Ianto's eyes skitter from John's smile down to the man sitting propped on the ground in front of him. Holland isn't looking very good, it's true, but dead five years? He's sitting there in front of them.

Another man might start with sympathy first, but Ianto's lost enough friends to gloss over that part and mostly be puzzled. Maybe that makes things more awkward. Maybe not. He can't let himself overthink things right now.

"What is this?" he asks the other man, casting a wary glance back at John. "What are we doing here?"