It was definitely odd, watching Jack haul people off, spouting off what Ianto thought of as bad film guard speak, all with a pained expression on his face. At least Jack seemed to be allowed to keep his own expressions. In and around his eyes, at least. If the situation weren't so dire, he'd be far more interested than he was.
By the time Jack came for him, Ianto had stripped off his waist coat and tie, leaving them behind, neatly, on one of the beds. Tossing what he hoped was a reassuring smile to those left in the cage and to Jack himself, Ianto let himself be manhandled about, back towards the museum. "Good hands, yeah? I know you're not Jack. I know he's in there, but you're making him do these things. Not even Jack's lines are that cheesy." Because that line? Was truly bad.
Ianto didn't begin to panic until they stood in the doorway and he saw what waited for him. How had the people who ran this place gotten their hands on .. on one of those..?
"You ... you can't," he said, pushing back against the body that held him firm. So familiar, the hands on his hips, that he could cry, but those hands were now keeping him from running from the machine. A cyber converter. Ianto felt sick and had to swallow a few times. "Please don't," he said quietly. "Please, not that thing. Just .. please. Not .. not that." His fingers dug at Jack as Jack pushed, scrabbling to get behind Jack, to get away, anything, but to no avail. There were no brave smiles now; Ianto was facing down one of his terrors. Again.
By the time he was strapped down, Ianto was shaking visibly and blinking back tears. Before his hand was tied down, the last of him to be restrained, Ianto reached up and touched at Jack's face with shaking fingers. "Not your fault, Jack," he said, voice harsh with fear and bad memories. "Don.. don't let me be converted. Don't." Kill him first, just don't let him turn into Lisa.