Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not even a packet of Tic-Tacs. :(
Teardrops on the fire
The Hub was surprisingly quiet. There had been no new rift activity for over a week, so the Torchwood Team was using the opportunity to catch up on other work. Gwen was sat at her desk, trying desperately to be interested in some traffic light anomalies that Jack had asked her check. Gazing across the way she could see Tosh typing away skilfully on some program that Gwen didn't quite understand. Jack was in his office, staring at the ceiling. Reflecting he called it, daydreaming is how Gwen referred to it as. She had last seen Ianto strolling towards the archives, holding a piece at alien technology that resembled a Smartie tube. Owen had not appeared yet. He had been out all day yesterday and had been a little more arsey in the days prior to that then normal.
Gwen raised her head in idle curiosity as the door to the Hub rolled open. She took a sudden intake of breathe as the figure entering came into view. She heard Tosh on the other side of the room do the same.
"Bloody hell! Who'd you piss off last night then?" Gwen asked, as she took a good look at Owen's face. His right eye was swollen badly and there was an ugly bruise on his cheek which had a small cut in the middle.
"Some guy not impressed with you trying it on with his girlfriend?" queried Tosh at the same time.
Owen shot both of them a filthy look at before walking stiffly to his desk, his left arm wrapped around his ribs. Gwen and Tosh's eyes followed him and watched as he sat at his desk before removing a pot of pills from his pocket and dry swallowing two.
"You not gonna tell us what happened then?" Tosh inquired. She was concerned for him, but didn't want to make it too obvious so was trying to remain aloof by staring furiously at her computer monitor.
"No," Owen replied.
"Are you OK though?"
"Do I fucking look OK? Why don't you piss off back into your little geek world and leave me the fuck alone."
"Owen, I don't think that was called for at all," Gwen started.
Owen glared at her with a snarl.
"Don't you bloody start wading in with your bloody Walton Family attitude. I can do without that today so why don't you both shut your mouths and leave me in peace." With that, he rose suddenly, gasping quietly at the sharp pain in his ribs, before regaining his composure and stalking off to the autopsy lab.
"What was all that about?" Tosh looked at Gwen.
"Dunno, but there's no excuse to be that rude."
Tosh laughed softly, "but it's Owen. That's what he's like sometimes."
"I know, but there's still no need for it."
The rest of the day was relatively uneventful in comparison. At around half four a bleep from Tosh's computer alerted them that there was some slight rift activity over at Rumney. Jack emerged from his office, swinging his great coat over his arms.
"Come on Tosh. We'd better go investigate that. Bring your laptop."
"Never leave home without it."
"You classify this," Jack gestured with his arm as he worked to the door, "as home. Oh Tosh, I think I'm going to have to give you more time off."
"It's an expression, Jack. But I'll take the leave if it's going." She joined him at the gate.
"Really, well, you'll just have to show me how badly you want it."
"Jack?"
Their voices became muffled as the door rolled shut again, although Gwen was sure she heard a high-pitched squeal of indignation come from Tosh before the door fully closed. She gazed over in the direction of Owen's lab. The period directly following his moody departure had been filled with stifled profanities and several loud crashes, but things had fallen silent about an hour ago.
"Maybe you should check on him," Gwen jumped slightly as Ianto appeared from nowhere.
How does he do that? She though, breathing deeply in order to calm her racing heartbeat.
"Sorry, soft-soled shoes. Never know where I'm going to pop up next!"
"It has gone quite quiet. Do you think he's alright?"
"Probably. Maybe he's gone for a snooze in one of the storage freezers. Apparently there're quite roomy. I've heard you can get two people in there."
Gwen gave him an I'm-not-impressed face.
Ianto shrugged nonchalantly. He was walking away, collecting dirty mugs from various desks in his path. He looked up at her.
"Maybe you should look in on him though."
Owen was not immediately obvious as Gwen entered the autopsy lab. Across the room were various bits of paper, empty blood tubes and a few surgical instruments which must have gone flying when Owen had launched the silver tray carrying them at the far wall. The trolley had been heaved into the circular wall of the pit with a force great enough to remove paint, as a few chips speckled on the floor below it. Continuing further into the room, Gwen found her target sat on the stairs on the far side, resting his head in both hands, facing away from her towards the wall. His body was hitching slightly as though caught in a bout of hiccups.
"Go away."
It was with more than a little shock that Gwen realised that he was crying. Owen, self-proclaimed emotionless void, was sat sobbing on the steps of the autopsy lab.
"Good God Owen, what on earth is wrong?"
"Look, it's none of your business so just sod off, alright."
She walked around the top of the gallery and down the steps to where he sat, and gently placed an arm around his shoulders. He turned away from her again but didn't attempt to remove her arm. Instead he sat there, hand pushed to his mouth as tears softly flowed down his cheeks.
They stayed like that for a long time. Eventually, Owen cast his eyes round at her. The crying had done him no favours. His eyes were both swollen now and his cheeks were a myriad of colours, the blues and greens of the bruise encompassed by red and pink blotches. He sniffed decisively, trying desperately to pull himself together. He regarded Gwen thoughtfully.
"It was my Gran's funeral yesterday," he said finally.
"Oh Owen, I'm so sorry."
"What for? She was old. It was her time. She'd been ill for a while."
"But, even so, it's still hard," she sighed. "So you had your Gran's funeral and then you got beaten up when you get back as well. Yesterday was not a good day for you was it?"
Owen stood suddenly.
"This didn't happen when I got back," he gestured at his face, then walked over to the trolley where he rested his hands on it, his back facing her again.
"Oh no, not before you left. That must have been awful to turn up like that."
He turned slowly. He was smiling wistfully.
"Not before either," he said softly.
"So, what then? During? Oh God Owen, You were attacked at the funeral? What happened?"
He'd rotated back round to the trolley and was staring intently at its shiny surface.
"My mum's boyfriend didn't take to kindly to me calling her a selfish whore," he looked round at her out of the corner of his eye. "Don't get me wrong, if it was just him, I could have taken him easily, but unfortunately his mates were there too."
"What?! Why did you say that? And why didn't she tell him to stop?"
"Because, she doesn't care," he whirled round shouting. "She never did. She never told them to stop. She couldn't give a rat's arse about me. I just got in her way. She never wanted me. She told me that often enough. I was a mistake, the worst mistake she made, cos she couldn't get rid of me."
"Oh Owen, I'm sure that's not true," Gwen was walking over to him.
"I didn't care. I knew she didn't love me. I accepted that ages ago. But, but," his eyes were filling with tears. "But, my Gran loved me. She looked after me. Gave me a home when things got really bad, encouraged me to be a doctor and now she's gone. She was the only person who ever cared for me and she's gone and I'm on my own." He looked up at her. "What am I gonna do?" He whispered.
She didn't know how to answer that so instead she pulled him to her and held him in a tight embrace until there were no tears left.
After a while, he pulled away from her, grunting softly as his ribs burned in his chest. He cradled an arm protectively around his chest and walked towards the steps.
"You're not alone, Owen," Gwen said suddenly. "You have us."
He stopped his ascent of the stairs.
"But for how long?" He replied quietly.
He proceeded up. As he approached the top he glanced back round at her, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Thanks." With that he rounded the corner out of her sight. Gwen sighed heavily and continued to stare to at where he had last been.
"It's OK, Owen Harper. It's OK."
