A/N- Hi everyone. This is a random idea that popped into my head the other night when I couldn't sleep. It was written at one in the morning, lol. Reviews more than welcome, especially constructive critism! Enjoy!
It's always there. The ache deep inside me. Sometimes I think it will never fade. I don't know how Jack copes. He's lost so many loved ones in the past. I look at him every morning and think 'Where do you get the strength from? How do you get up every morning? How do you carry on?'
It tore me in two, clearing away her desk. You'd think that b now I'd be used to it, dealing with aliens and deaths every day of the week. But it still hurts. So much so that every new death fills you up like a drink, making you feel that the never ending despair will consume and drown you.
Tosh's desk, cluttered with the things that I associated with her; glasses, bobbles, the insane amount of sheets tidily tucked away on a regular basis- the list was endless. All being packed away into brown cardboard boxes with the customary 'T' etched on the side, to be left to rot away in storage until it's needed. Tosh's life, packed away in boxes.
I couldn't stop the tears then. I collapsed to the floor with an echoing thud, letting the pain and grief wash over me. I knew that death surrounded Torchwood like a glove when I joined. Being able to cope with the pain was part of the job description- but no one could keep the shield up all he time so I had to give in. After a few gut wrenching sobs, I felt two pairs of strong arms encircle me. I leant back against Jack and Ianto and we cried our eyes out. We stayed like that for hours, sharing our souls with each other. Eventually we all fell asleep, including Jack, which was a first.
I was the first to wake up the next morning. Laying in Jack an Ianto's arms on the cold concrete floor of the hub, it was then that I realized what Torchwood was like. We're a chain, all of us supporting and helping each other. If you take away a link in the chain, then we splinter. Links can be replaced, but this always leaves a mark. Like a scar from an operation, these marks fade with time, but there always there, no matter how much you try and cover them up.
I still think about them both everyday. My dreams are full of Tosh's gentle smiles, Owen's sarcastic comments. Whenever I see a list of equations, I think of Tosh. I can't watch a medical programme without my heart bleeding for Owen. You only appreciate something when it's gone- I didn't realize what a big part of my life the two had become before it was too late.
Even now, Two years on, I still have the odd moment of insanity when I think I see Tosh at her desk, staring at a computer screen and chewing on a pen – or Owen examining a body in the autopsy room, scalpel poised- but then I'm reminded by the insistent ache deep inside that there dead, preserved in the freezers three floors below me along with all the past Torchwood employees before them. They may be no longer with us, but Owen and Tosh will never be gone so long as we remember them.
A/N- So what did you think?