John pulls the plate of fries an inch closer, feeding himself some slowly while he listens to Ianto. Please, John, he says, and he has no real reason to say no. Well, no good reason beyond his stubbornness and pride.

"Who's 'they'?" he settles on asking. 'They' gave it to him, and they could be anyone. The Natha, people from Olympia, from Wyver, another refugee, a doctor prescribing it to treat some injury that Ianto hasn't told him about. He wouldn't put the latter past him, honestly. It's something John would do himself, after all, giving away something prescribed to him.