Author's Note: According to tv tropes Algorithm of Deadness, Owen will be back while poor Tosh and Ianto won't be. Also Death failed to take Owen at the end of Dead Man Walking, so you really think he would be taken by something as mundane as a power plant meltdown? Here goes.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood. BBC does.
xxxx
Owen had planned to return to the Hub after containing the melt-down until he lurked outside long enough to know Tosh was dead. With Tosh dead, he really wasn't in the mood to officially quit. As a walking dead man, he couldn't metabolize Retcon or any medication, so his memories were his to keep either way.
As much as he would have loved to tell Jack to fuck off, Owen watching from a distance, decided to let Jack, Ianto and Gwen have their grief. He couldn't go back to his flat since Jack would quickly cart off all his belongings. With nothing else to do, Owen decided to sneak aboard a supply boat to go to Flat Holm.
After everything thing he done for Torchwood, sneaking aboard a small cargo boat was cake. Getting off meant waiting for the crew to be busy with unloading the supplies, so they wouldn't hear an extra pair of footsteps, but it was easy, too. Then Owen put aside all the cloak and dagger shit and knocked on the front door.
The nurse on duty said, "Dr. Harper, I heard you were dead."
Owen held up his gloved hand. "Old news." Then Owen held his bad hand with his good one. "With Tosh dead, I have no reason to return to Torchwood. I know it's very unlikely that Miss Holmes will return through the rift, but that being said, you could, probably, use a doctor."
"Captain Harkness visits regularly," said the nurse.
Owen smiled, realizing he was looking forward to telling Jack to fuck off. "I'll deal with that eventuality." He just didn't want to tell Jack to where to go today because Owen was still too numb from hearing about Tosh's death. He knew the stages of grief from when Katie died. He was more in shock then denial right now - he was too stunned by Tosh's death to be saddened by it at the moment - but that would change. They were called stages of grief for a reason.
"I can't pay you without alerting Torchwood of your presence," said the nurse.
"I don't eat; my flat is being retconned," Owen stated. "I may eventually need new clothes. Other than that, I'm good." Then again, Ianto should be able to get his clothes without alerting Jack of his presence. That also could be saved for another day.
"Everyone eats," said the nurse.
"I'm dead," Owen simply stated. "I thought you knew that."
"You look alive to me."
Owen offered the woman his good hand. "Take my pulse."
The nurse felt his wrist, touching different areas, moving a finger back and forth over where the blue of his veins could be seen.
"Nothing," said Owen.
She let go of his hand. "Oh my God."
"According to my doctor, I won't age or decay. And as long as I exercise regularly, I won't experience rigor mortis." Owen held up his damaged hand. "I also don't heal."
"I don't know how to say this." The nurse sat down and gestured for Owen to take a seat. "It isn't that we couldn't use the free help, but our residents are a bit - how do I say this - skittish. And having a doctor that is room temperature examine them isn't going to help their dispositions."
Owen didn't stand up. "You're turning down having a doctor on staff 24/7 because I'm not 37 degree Celsius?"
"You can stay," said the woman. "But if your touch freaks out the residents you will have assist in other ways."
"I want to be here if Diane Holmes should return, however unlikely, that may be. I'm only offering my services to relieve the boredom of waiting. So don't do me any favours."
"We can use the help. You wouldn't believe the turnover rate."
"I would." Owen had heard about Jonah's 20-hour screams.
The nurse got up to shake his hand. "Welcome aboard."
"You aren't freaked out by my lack of pulse."
"After dealing with our residents, I don't startle easy."
xxxx
Since Owen only had the clothes on his back and a pair of scrubs a nurse gave him, he did the residents' laundry while washing his own clothes. With 21 residents and growing, many who wet the bed every night, there was always laundry to do. It was a little less menial than making coffee he couldn't drink. Yes, he couldn't forgive Jack for that insult.
Watching the industrial dryer spin was only a little less boring than some of the shows on the cable television. He was in his scrubs, watching the clothes and sheets in the dryer go round and round. A women on night shift, who was newer than he was (see high turnover rate), said, "Dr. Harper, you need to go topside."
"It's Owen," he said. "I'm an orderly, a food service worker, a maintenance man or anything else anyone needs at this second. Right now, I'm the laundress."
"Come topside." The woman had grabbed his bad hand and started pulling him toward the exit.
The small green island had over seventy people in all manners of dress, standing, sitting or lying about. One woman with wavy brown hair and a leather flight jacket stood out. It couldn't be. Owen didn't know what day it was - from the dew and the position of the sun, it was early morning.
Someone in charge would be notifying Torchwood. Owen made a quick count. 73 people dropped by the rift. Every other time it was one or, when more than one, an object like Diane's plane, Sky Gypsy, carrying more than one. Owen ran across the grass and hugged Diane.
"It's you, it's really you," he said, wishing his eyes still could form tears - tears of joy. He did use eye-drops to keep his eyes moist, but they could only do so much.
Diane wrapped her arms around him. "Owen?"
"My heart left with you when I watched the Sky Gypsy leave," said Owen. "I still have your red dress." It was in storage with all his other retconned belongings. He could never say the right things with Tosh, why would today be any different?
"I was in the Sky Gypsy and now I'm here." Diane was still in Owen's arms. "How?"
"72 other people are asking the same question." Owen saw most of the people being led inside. The green knoll was getting more deserted by the second.
"You're cold," said Diane matter-of-factly.
Owen's body temperature was falling from the feverish temperature from being in a small room with an industrial dryer to temperature of the cold morning air. He would have to tell Diane that he could no longer have sex and knowing her sexual appetite soon. "We'll both be cold if we don't get inside."
"Inside," repeated Diane.
xxxx
Owen led Diane inside the metal doors to the underground semi-independent living facility. Most nursing homes had less sterile surrounding than blank walls and doors with names on chalk boards. "I was doing laundry when I was called outside. We can talk while you help me fold sheets."
Diane looked at the hand that wasn't holding her hand in its glove. "What happened to your hand?"
Owen looked at his black glove. "I happened to my hand." He was the one who played with the scalpel and then he broke his own finger to show Tosh that he felt no pain - nothing. His damaged hand was totally his fault.
They returned to the laundry room to see the laundry still spinning.
"Good, my favourite programme is still on," Owen joked. "I can fold sheets with both hands, so it isn't as bad as it looks. Having no pain also helps. Diane, how long were you gone?"
"I entered the rift a few minutes ago." Diane sat down on one of the few folding chairs in the small room. "It's been years for you. Hasn't it? Not as many years as before but more than a few minutes."
Owen touched one of Diane's beautiful rosy cheeks with his good hand. "A bit over a year. Maybe, eighteen months. Now that I no longer sleep or eat, I don't keep track of time that well. Living in an underground bunker doesn't help matters. The staff knows if it's day or night, but most of the residents don't."
Diane took his hand in both of hers. "Owen, are you a resident or staff?"
Owen thought a second. "I don't get paid and I haven't been above in weeks, months? Before today, that is. A resident."
Suddenly, the building shook, which was odd since Wales wasn't known for earthquakes. Owen sat on the floor and leaned against Diane since if he ripped his skin, torn any muscles or broke any bones, it wouldn't heal. He protected his face with her lap until the ground stopped shaking.
After the shaking stopped, Owen started folding the sheets, without a word.
Diane stood up to help him. "This is going to sound crazy, but you were holding onto to me a long time with your head in my lap, you don't have body heat. What happened to you?"
"I died. You don't want to see me naked. I have a bullet hole in my chest that will never heal. We should go to the common room and listen to the news about the earthquake."
She helped him fold the sheet. "There will either be aftershocks or there won't. Owen, you died."
"Jack brought me back. Jack gets to live forever and I get to be dead forever. It isn't fucking fair. Death wouldn't take me and being conscious as a radioactive pile of ash terrified me. Tosh talked me down from screaming like a maniac while she was dying." Owen wiped his face from force of habit because he didn't have any tears to dry. "At the last second, I was able to reroute the radioactive water to another tank, so I didn't get fried by superheated radioactive stream. I didn't know she was dead till later."
"You're dead?"
"Zombie films were a bit after your time," Owen explained. "My heart doesn't beat. I don't breathe. And I can't have sex."
Maybe, she didn't hear that last part. "You can't have sex?" Diane repeated. Bloody hell, she heard it.
Owen continued to fold the sheet then put it in the closet with the other clean sheets. Owen took another sheet from the dryer and started folding it. He was an expert at steadying things with his bad hand while the other hand did the lion's share of the work.
Diane interrupted Owen's silence. "You don't work for Torchwood any more. They house you here with the other rejects."
"Jack doesn't know I'm here. I hide wherever Ianto visits, but we turn our heads away from the each one enough that it's nearly a game." Owen would go into a room or turn a corner when he saw Ianto. Ianto, in turn, avoided Owen's eyes. "I came here because I hoped you would end up here. Not as a resident. I didn't want you to be damaged by the rift like they are, but I figured you would pass through as you were readjusting to life outside."
Diane touched his face. "You waited for me. That's very sweet."
"Diane, I love you. I want to be more than your fuck buddy. Not that the sex wasn't great. It was." Owen continued to fold the sheet. "I'm sticking my foot in my mouth. Please, stop me."
Diane helped him finish and put the folded sheet with the other clean ones. "You're no longer a warm body to hold in the night."
"Tosh and I danced at Gwen and Rhys's wedding. Tosh said it would be awkward marrying me with the whole 'death do you part' shit." Owen took another sheet from the dryer. Doing his mostly one-handed folding meant he didn't need to look at Diane. "I know I'm damaged."
Diane didn't say anything while she helped him fold another sheet.
Finally, Owen spoke. "Let's go to the common room and find out about the earthquake. With the rift dropping 73 people onto Flat Holm, I'm sure Jack is here. I can't avoid him any longer."
xxxx
Jack wasn't in the common room. The people on the telly were talking about the sky being full of planets. If the sky was really full of planets then Jack was too busy to worry about 73 new rift refugees. 73 people being dropped in one location a short time before the Earth was moved was hardly a coincidence, meaning the world was coming to an end. At least, he would return to the endless timeless void of death, holding Diane's hand.
"What's going on?" said Diane.
"Jack will talk to that doctor friend of his and have him set things right," said Owen. Whoever brought them here wanted them alive because why else keep the Earth's atmosphere intact. All he could do now like all the other residents of Flat Holm was wait. "You can look at the planets outside, but I have laundry to finish."
Diane took his hand in hers. "The laundry can wait."
Owen made eye-contact with Diane. "Are you sure?"
"There is no one I rather be with than you, watching the last light go out," said Diane.
"Then why did you fly off so fast?" asked Owen.
"If I stayed, would you still be alive?" Diane asked, not answering Owen's question.
"I would have still got in the way of Aaron Copley's weapon, so the answer is no." Owen smiled at her. Tosh's last moments of life were listening to Owen rant. He promised himself that he wouldn't do that to Diane. He needed to be happy for her and not show her that he was terrified that the world was going to be destroyed by whomever or whatever moved the planet. Holding Diane's hand, Owen walked out to the reflected light of the 26 planets surrounding Earth. "It's surreal but beautiful."
"Like you," Diane said. "Do you still moisturise?"
"I shellac to keep my moisture in, keep my skin intact and make cleaning off the dust and dirt a simple wipe," said Owen. Natural shellac yellowed the skin, so he was presently coated in an artificial resin. "I also moisten my mouth and eyes as often as necessary."
Diane put an arm around him. "I think you're beautiful."
A nurse's aide came out. "Someone wants to talk to you."
"Amelia Earhart?" asked Diane.
"No one has claimed to be her, but we have a number of women that are unconscious or not coherent enough to give their names, so don't give up hope," said the nurse's aide.
"Well, if you find her, I would love to compare stories with her," said Diane.
"Dr. Harper, you used to be part of Torchwood. They deal with stuff like this," said the nurse's aide.
"I'm no longer part of Torchwood and this is a bit out of their league," explained Owen.
"Still the director wants to talk to you," said the aide.
Owen gave Diane a kiss on the cheek. "You can enjoy the planets' glow. I'm needed inside."