Ianto blinked as if dazed before Jack's words really registered, and he brought a hand up to his face. It came away wet with blood, but not much. Ianto had been injured often enough to know without looking that it would heal on its own without stitches. It wouldn't even leave a scar. He was more concerned with what he'd just seen, and if he hadn't worked for Torchwood so long, he might have been afraid Jack would think he'd gone insane. But when your life involved the amount of rubbish theirs did, seeing scary things in mirrors was more likely to be indicative of alien tech or creepy monsters than one's mental stability.

"Lisa... Lisa was in the mirror. She was...she was converting Mica." The words felt like acid on his tongue and he had to force them past his lips. Some part of him felt like speaking those words was a curse on his niece, and if he'd had anything in his stomach, he knew he would have brought it back up then and there. He could taste bile, and he realized he needed to find some calm and pull himself together.

He took a deep breath. He could smell Jack's pheromones, and the lemon scent of the cleaner he'd used on the tile. There was no smell of cordite or steel. It helped.