He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the tiny object in the palm of his hand. Few people believed that Owen Harper was the marrying type. Fewer believed he had once been engaged. But here he was, staring at the engagement ring he had once got on one knee to slip onto a girl's finger, only for her to die before they got to the wedding. His suit still hung in the wardrobe, her dress in its box on the shelf, every day a stab in the heart that he never got to see her wear it. The death of Katie Russell, soon to be Harper, was almost 5 years previous to that evening's events, as Owen turned the ring in his hands, before carefully placing it back in the box and his nightstand. Once he was sure the ring was safe, Owen padded barefoot to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of scotch from the cupboard, and took a swig without even attempting to reach for a glass. It was going to be a long night.
The next morning Tosh observed Owen enter the Hub, not quite his usual self. "Good morning, Owen." She piped. Owen just grunted and went to his desk, obviously hungover, and Tosh thought nothing of it. It wasn't the first time Owen had come to work hungover and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
Owen's head was pounding from the whisky the night before, so much so he couldn't even express his thanks when Ianto placed a coffee on his desk. It was the 5th anniversary of Katie's death, and he wasn't really up to talking to anyone, so he picked up his coffee and the paracetamol Ianto had sensed that he needed, swallowed the two and stared at his computer for a moment. Today was going to be a long, hard day, but first, he needed coffee.
The rift was quiet that day, nothing bigger than some weevil hunting for Jack and Ianto, so Owen was able to spend his day staring listlessly at his computer screen, unsuccessfully attempting to update staff medical records with the stack of handwritten notes of all the illness and injuries from the past few months. He couldn't draw his mind away from Katie, from the day that should have been their wedding, from how much he wanted to be back with her. He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the delivery of Chinese food at lunchtime until Gwen tapped him on the shoulder. "Owen, we've got Chinese, come join us for lunch, you've been updating those files all day."
"Thanks, Gwen, but I'm not hungry." He replied with a tight-lipped smile
"You feeling alright? It's not like you to not be hungry!" She remarked
"I'm fine. Thank you for your concern." Owen turned back to his screen, indicating that the conversation was over.
By the time evening rolled around and everyone else had left, the stack of papers Owen was supposed to be transferring across had barely been touched. He knew he was supposed to be taking the night shift to monitor rift activity, so he figured he could probably continue his work through the night. A voice suddenly broke his reverie and he looked towards it.
"Owen, go home, you look like shit. I'll take the night shift just... go get some sleep, ok?" It was Jack speaking, offering to take the shift off his hands so that he could go home. He had no doubts that Ianto would be joining the Captain so Owen chose to take the opportunity to leave earlier than planned.
Jack watched with suspicion as the young medic automatically packed up his things and left the Hub. He knew that something was wrong, and it wasn't just the hangover. Something about Owen's behaviour, his unusually quiet demeanor and his lack of appetite, wasn't quite right. It always concerned Jack when Owen acted out of the ordinary. He took his phone out from his pocket and called Gwen, who answered on the second ring. "Jack? What's the matter?" She asked
"I need you to keep an eye on Owen," He said simply
"Owen? What do you mean?" She wasn't quite understanding what the Captain wanted
"If he goes to any bar or club tonight, I want to know about it. Something isn't right."
"Ok, so I'm on Owen watch. Just what I wanted on my night off." Gwen's voice was laced with sarcasm.
"Please, Gwen. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important." Jack's voice had softened.
"Ok." Gwen agreed, before clicking her phone off.
A few hours later, just over a mile from the Hub, Owen sat alone in his flat, a half-filled glass of whisky in front of him. The mostly empty bottle was a little further down the counter. He couldn't stop thinking about Katie. Just Katie. All he wanted was to see Katie. Tears fell onto his lap and his hands shook as he took another sip of his drink, finalizing his decision. Owen calmly took a pen and paper to write down his final thoughts, folding the sheet in half when he was done. He then took a knife from the kitchen drawer, went to his bedroom and took out the jumper that still smelled of Katie's perfume. Once he had taken in a deep breath of her scent, he folded the jumper back into the drawer, making sure it was safe and securely back where it belonged. From there, Owen sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the foot of his bed, and used the kitchen knife to slice his wrists open.
It took a few minutes for his vision to blur at the edges, but Owen expected this, he was a doctor after all. The last thing he heard was someone calling his name.