Ianto knew he was hurt. The blast had been unexpected and as he lay in the street not hearing the screams and car alarms he wondered at the irony.
The lunch with Malcolm's daughter was supposed to be an apology but she'd never showed. Ianto had sat for over half an hour feeling like a right twat before paying for the drink and leaving.
In his confusion he had not noticed the car parked by the pet shop or the slandering signs painted on it berating the capture and mistreatment of animals until he was walking past it and he shook his head as he wondered if anyone cared anymore. But when it exploded, taking out the shop he'd cared.
What kind of idiot decides to save the animals by blowing them up?
The life he leads only to be caught in someone else's car bomb. How embarrassing.
Hands were helping him sit up and he realised with shock that he was deaf. Temporary? Don't panic.
Ianto fumbled for his phone before remembering that it would be useless and groaned as his back cramped. Eager hands helped him to an ambulance and he soon found himself in an emergency room staring down the business end of a small torch.
They had realised his dilemma and provided him with a pen and paper. He hesitated when it came time to fill out the form and wondered if he should put his real name.
Was that car bomb a coincidence?
Finally he wrote Ianto Merlyn. In for a penny in for a pound.
If they were after him it let them know that he was not afraid to taunt them, and if they weren't? It let them know who he belonged to and who was looking their way like the big eyeball thing in Lord of the Rings.
The young candy stripper read the name and started to shake. He smiled reassuringly and tried to calm her as he handed her the phone and showed her the caller ID for Malcom.
Ianto wished he could have heard the conversation but the look in the girl's face told him all he needed to know. Malcom was coming. God, sound the trumpets.
The first indicator that Malcom was in the building was a sudden flurry of medical staff rushing about with flowers and clean sheets on the bed he was desperate to vacate in the private room he had been shoved into.
Malcom flew into the room with such aplomb that Ianto was reminded of a Captain Jack Harkness entrance.
Malcom was talking, probably shouting as he drew Ianto on his arms and peppered his face with kisses. Ianto beckoned the girl for the pen and paper.
I'm OK my love, just a temporary thing.
Hearing should be restored within a day or so.
Drs say no permanent damage.
I love you
Malcom read the scrawled note and slowly tore it from the pad. He carefully folded it and placed it in his wallet as Ianto silently watched.
As Malcom talked with others Ianto quietly rose and dressed himself from the bag Malcom had dropped on the edge of the bed.
He then sat and waited for Malcolm to finish and take him home.
.
.
.
.
On the way back to the penthouse Malcolm kept looking at Ianto who was nodding off to sleep in the passenger seat.
Ianto stumbled his way into the lift and leaned against Malcolm, betraying his aching bones with a groan of pain.
As Malcolm helped Ianto undress and climb into the bed he made a mental inventory of injuries apparent on the pale flesh as he ran his fingers over his flanks.
Bruises, cracked ribs, concussion, split scalp and debris had been imbedded in his back, leaving vicious scratches down one side. Loss of hearing.
Malcolm watched over him until Ianto was asleep and then he gave into the shaking he'd kept at bay.
As he wept and shook silently, berating himself for being silly as Ianto couldn't hear him anyway, Malcolm looked at how easily he nearly lost him. Lost everything and he railed into the night.
Not this one. He's mine!