I wrote this last week. I'm sorry I didn't put this up sooner - been busy getting ready for my art exam (it was two very VERY long days).
Anyways, enjoy.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
There's nothing I can do.
I'm a doctor for crying out loud! I'm supposed to fix people. But I can't fix Owen.
He's now a torn and broken man. A torn and broken dead man more like, and there's nothing I can do to help him.
He died. That was bad enough. Then Jack brought back that stupid glove. Now, he's the living dead.
It's even worse that I can't stay to take care of him. That would mean Tom would have to leave his job, the one job he loves best. My family wouldn't exactly be very happy. Mum still isn't that happy about the Doctor.
I wish I could talk to Tom about it. He wouldn't understand. He doesn't remember. Like most people. Like Owen.
Jack is the only person I can really talk to about it. The Doctor will be saving a planet or the Universe. My family don't really like me talking about anything like that.
Whenever I need cheering up, it's always Jack I turn to. For those reasons.
I can't this time. Not when he's lost someone.
I feel like I should do something for the team. Even if it is just giving them my number and telling them to call me if they need something. Anything will do.
He took the bullet for me. He saved my life.
It should've been me that died. Not him.
I look at him now and all I see is something that shouldn't be. Owen, sewing up his own hand. That's something I wouldn't wish upon anyone. Not even the Master.
He doesn't deserve any of this. He will never be able to heal. Never be able to live again. It's all my fault.
I guess they call that "Survivors Guilt". Or just "Guilt".
I know it's short. Like I said, art exam.
Review?