NOTES: This was written way back in 2008, immediately after the episode was aired, I believe. Not beta-ed so all mistakes are mine (and if you point them out I'll fix them).
Jack sat slumped in the chair of his darkened office, staring into an untouched glass of brandy. When he came into the hub only 30 minutes before he was in a rage of grief, anger and guilt. Leaving the rest of his team to deal with their co-worker's body he had stormed into his office and poured himself a drink, not even bothering to turn the light on. Now the anger had dissipated, leaving grief and guilt.
As the amber liquid stayed still in its glass confines, his mind began to wonder. The earth shattering seconds when Owen was shot flashed before his eyes, remembering how the mixture of emotions assaulted his mind as his last coherent thought turned to shooting the bugger who had harmed his team. The cold numbness then the hot fury that followed Martha's two little, earth moving words- "He's dead".
Jack had lost too many people in his long life, but he could still feel what he felt after each death. Even experience didn't make each loss of life any easier. Especially when they didn't expect it. Owen was always the one to bounce back after any event, the one who could be relied upon to make a cocky comment during any situation. He could sometimes be a twat, but he is a good man. Was a good man.
Jack's thoughts turned to Tosh. He knew that she had feelings for Owen, that much was obvious after looking at her tear stained face and slumped shoulders when she returned to the hub. He also knew that Owen had either been oblivious to, or ignored her affections, although during the past fateful day he had felt some shift in their friendship. As if Owen was starting to feel something back. Not that it mattered now, not now that Owen was gone.
Guilt was also present with Jack's grief- guilt that he hadn't done anything to prevent this from happening, even if it was just taking the bullet himself, he'd do it for any of his team. Guilt that he'd sent Martha in as a spy in the first place, she may have saved the world, but this was different. He was just recovering from the fact hat she had nearly died before this happened. He had started to think of his team as invincible although some small part of him knew that something had to go wrong at some point. Why had he got so cocky and self assured? Perhaps if he had listened to the logical part of his brain, then the doctor of the team might now have been taking the ladies out for a drink.
Another part of Jack's mind acknowledged the fact that he needed to find a replacement, and he hated himself for it. The body that now rested in cold storage had barely cooled and he was already dismissing him like yesterday's pizza boxes.
Jack was drawn out of his musings by the office door opening slowly, and was startled to find tears running down his face. Swiping them away with the back of his hand, he looked at his visitor through watery eyes. He was surprised to notice that the hub's lighting had been reduced to a blue glow, leaving the office almost pitch black. One of the shadows by the door reached over and turned on the lights, revealing Ianto and Martha.
"I was just going to lock up for the night and take Martha to her hotel before going home. Is there anything I can do before I leave?" Ianto asked. Jack sniffed heavily, dismissing the answer 'Bring Owen back' echoing in his mind,
"No thank you, Yan. Go home. I'll see you in the morning." Ianto nodded before disappearing into the shadows. Martha looked sympathetic while she lingered by his doorway, before shutting the door and following Ianto, leaving Jack alone with a glass of brandy and his thoughts.