There was no passenger door.

Ianto woke up strapped into his car with blood in his eyes and there was no passenger door.

A greatcoat fluttered ten feet away in the dark.

He tore at his seatbelt, trying to get it undone with shaking, useless fingers, whistling breaths at the back of his throat and a ringing in his ears. He felt like he was floating over everything and he knew it was the shock, impact, car accident, but he didn't care because there was no passenger door.

The seatbelt came loose and he crawled over the center console and through the gaping hole that was once the side of his car. His right ankle flared with pain the second he set it to the ground and he fell forward into the litter of broken glass and metal, but he paid no attention, dragging himself through it, to the body sprawled on the asphalt.

He reached Jack and pulled him up into his lap, holding his head.

"Oh God, Jack. I'm so sorry."

Jack's eyes opened, stared glassily upwards and then immediately clouded with pain. He grabbed Ianto's shoulder and bit down hard against a cry. Ianto grasped him tighter, but carefully, unsure of where he was injured.

Jack finally settled back into Ianto's arms, trying to take normal breaths. "I'm bleeding on your suit," he managed, with a breathy, mirthless laugh.

"Doesn't matter."

"Are you hurt?"

"No. My ankle. Nothing serious."

Jack's eyes flickered over Ianto's face. "You're bleeding," he said, slowly lifting a hand to touch a cut above Ianto's eye.

"You're dying," Ianto said, and took Jack's raised hand in his own.

"That happens." Jack gave a pained smile.

"It does, yeah." Inexplicably, Ianto could feel tears at the back of his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Jack shook his head, holding his breath against the pain. "Not your fault. Drunk driver. I saw him run after he hit you."

"I should have seen-"

"It's all right," Jack said with finality, squeezing Ianto's hand.

Ianto stared down at Jack, watching his chest rise and fall with labored breath. This had happened before, but not – not caused by him. The guilt of it welled up in him. Killing Jack. A favorite pass-time for some. Entirely unpleasant for Ianto.

"We'll find him," Ianto said. "The driver. CCTV will have picked him up."

Jack nodded, then closed his eyes against another wave of pain. Ianto brought him a little higher, a little closer to him.

"Can I do anything?"

"Just sit there being gorgeous." Jack grinned between panting breaths. "I'll be fine in a minute."

He'd be dead in a minute. Then alive in another. The absurdity of it hit Ianto maybe for the first time.

Then Jack cried out, loud, squeezing Ianto's hand tightly, and Ianto kissed him, whispering against his lips, "It's all right, it's all right-"

And Jack relaxed completely, his head rolling back, body going limp. Dead.

Ianto looked down at him. He was the only person in the world – most likely – who could be sure that when the person he loved died in his arms after a car accident, he would be back. It wasn't fair. But it was good. Ianto could watch Jack die a thousand times and never once truly lose him. It was a little horrible – the fact that he did have to see this face so many times, slack and pale – but it was better than the alternative. Better than Jack dying in his arms and then having to live without him for the rest of his life.

Ianto pressed his lips against Jack's forehead and muttered against his skin, "Come back. Come on, Jack. Come back."

And Jack gasped awake, limbs flailing, and Ianto held him down, murmuring that he was okay, he was okay.

Jack settled, breathing hard, clutching Ianto's arm with one hand. He blinked, exhaled, then sat up. "Sorry," he said.

Ianto shook his head. "It's fine."

Jack looked past Ianto's shoulder at the wreckage of his car. "Gonna need a new one of those."

"You pay me enough."

Jack grinned, then stood up, holding his hand out to help Ianto up. "Don't you love how I can be mortally wounded one minute and walking around the next, while you keep your sprained ankle?"

"Yes, it's a treat," Ianto muttered, grabbing Jack's hand and favoring his good leg. Jack slung Ianto's arm around his shoulder and helped him start to walk.

Ianto dug into his pocket and pulled out his mobile.

"Who're you calling?" Jack asked, looking at him.

"Gwen. We need a ride. And police cleanup."

Jack sighed. "There goes movie night."

Ianto looked at him, putting the phone to his ear and grinning.

"We could always go back to mine. I can think of a few things we can do without the use of my right leg."