So I had this great idea where I was only going to use this account for Avoiding Clichés like the Plague. I'm posting this now, and then no more fanfiction. Actually, if you're reading this, it's pretty unlikely that you've read Avoiding Clichés like the Plague, considering the two fandoms probably don't mix much.

Anyway! After I watched Torchwood Declassified and learned that Owen, while almost definitely not returning to Torchwood, might not be dead, (thank you Burn!) I couldn't resist. I just don't want him to be dead. So I wrote this. Because I am pathetic. So this is it. The end of my fanfiction.

The scuffling of feet through the grime. Tearing at meat. Growls coming from every direction. He growls too, not quite the same way as the others, but it's still there. Every day, it becomes more like theirs. As he approaches them, the creatures bow and cower away from him, their lord. Usually, he is able to ignore what he's eating. He doesn't even care. It all tastes the same now. Yet every once in a while, the bit of him that's still human wonders what he has in his mouth. If he's any better than those people in that village in the country…

When he's eaten his fill, he turns and walks away. The beasts that he used to fear close in on what he's left as he wipes the blood from his mouth. By now, of course, he knows better than to call them weevils. He uses their proper name, the one they use for themselves. He's the king of the Della Cantura.

Sitting a distance from them, he can hear the Della Cantura shriek and roar as they fight for the meat. He listens to his own breathing, so different from their snarling, and a memory overcomes him.

"Wasn't that the one with the space pig?"

"Space pig."

"Yeah. We never did get that date, you and me. Yeah, we just sort of missed each other. It was my fault. Didn't notice until it was too late. I'm sorry."

"Me too."

"It's starting."

"Owen."

"It's all right. Really, Tosh. It's all right. Oh, god."

"Owen. Owen..."

That was when the speaker cut. He never got a chance to explain before the radiation destroyed the equipment. The grate in the wall had a sheet of metal covering it, but not quite. An ancient looking mobile phone was stopping it from touching the ground. He pried it open, squeezed through, and let it shut properly just after the radiation hit. What exactly that little bit of radiation did to him, he wasn't sure. But, it had restored his ability to live, and when he'd made it into the sewers, he had found the "weevils" more inviting than before. Originally he had planned to return to the hub, but once he'd joined his kingdom, his desire to return to his human life vanished.

And so he hasn't left the sewers. Maybe the radiation had affected his brain, too. Or maybe it's just time that seems to be wiping away his memories…

Katie. There had been a Katie. She's important. She had been very important. And… dead. She was dead. He isn't sure why the thought of her makes him so sad. There are two other girls. Still alive. They look like him. Sisters? Yes. Sisters. The man with the braces. That man had power, he remembers. That man couldn't die, unlike him. And Tosh. The one who he can remember talking about a space pig before the radiation hits. Had they been together? No. He remembers that.

He sits for a long time. The Della Cantura are taking a while to eat. There is a lot of meat there, and they're fighting over it, making a hell of a racket. He presses his fingers – such human fingers – to his temples, and feels a headache coming on. Probably from the remembering he's doing. Standing up, but staying slightly lowered, like the Della Cantura do, he moves further away from them, seeking solitude. The Della Cantura do not question their king's actions.

When he stops to sit again, he can still hear the echoes of the snarls and tearing. Water rushes past his toes, bricks scrape the back of his head. It's not exactly comfortable, but it's all he knows. Maybe he knew comfort before. Noises come from above, up on the street. A machine, metallic and unnatural sounding, stops directly above him. Two loud thuds come next, and he can now hear someone stepping onto the ground. Their shadows flicker across the sewer grate a few meters from him. He hears them speaking. A woman and a man.

"Jack? What exactly are we dealing with here?" Jack.

"Dunno, by the looks of it, I'd say weevils. Some guy went missing around here earlier today." Weevils. They say weevils.

"Should we check in the sewers?"

"Yeah, I'll go. No, seriously Gwen, there might be a lot of them. Don't come down, you've got Rhys. And I can't die anyway." Gwen.

One of them is rummaging through a bag, he can hear it. Gwen. Jack. Weevils. That's what they said. And then the flood comes.

Torchwood. All of it. And his life before. His life with Katie. His life with his family, with that woman he calls a mother. Jack, and Gwen, and Tosh, and Ianto. They're his friends. He's had memories come back before, whenever he hears humans on the surface. But never like this. He remembers who he is. And, for the first time since he joined the Della Cantura in the sewers, he wants to return to his human life. He wants to drink coffee, cut up dead people, laugh at pointless jokes. Go on that date with Tosh.

Those other times that the memories came back, he hesitated and wondered, and then remained in the sewers with the Della Cantura. Now, he observes his subjects, further down the tunnels, still ravaging the meat. He feels the slit, grease, and god knows what else slip underneath his fingers, and decides it is time. He could be the king of these creatures forever, never quite belonging with them, or return to where he assume he is meant to be.

As he lifts himself into a fully human standing position, he wonders how long it has been. A few months? A year? Longer? He doesn't know anymore, he's lost track. Day, and night, it's all the same in a sewer. When he lifts the sewer grate, he sees Gwen and Jack whip around to look at him and pull out their guns. He steps out onto the street, and for the first time in a long time, he is conscious of the fact that he is naked.

"Jesus…" Jack drops the gun. Gwen gapes at him. And Owen just stands there, unsure he has made the right decision. Beneath him, the Della Cantura moan and wail over the loss of their lord.