Chapter Seven:
Closure Isn't Easy
Having spent hours in the hub, Owen squints when he steps outside as his eyes take some time to adjust to the natural light. As Diane walks to him, the sun hits her hair giving it a soft glow, and Owen fights the urge to reach out and touch it. Diane stands awkwardly before him, unsure of what to do with her hands and still frightened by the incident in the lift. They walk along the docks until they find a place to sit. For a while, they say nothing, not knowing where to start.
Owen decides that an update to his patients' condition is the best place. "In case you're wondering, I've found an antidote that worked. They all have scarring along their gastrointestinal tracts and Tosh has ulcers, but following a special diet and a regiment of antibiotics for the next week should take care of that. They'll need additional bed rest for today and possibly tomorrow, but I expect them to make a full recovery."
"I'm glad to hear. And you've been with them all this time?"
"Yeah. Well, that's my job."
"They're obviously special to you."
"That small group is all I have. Maybe you don't need anyone, but I need them."
"And I feel awful for putting them in danger. You have to believe me."
"I do. I know it wasn't your fault – not entirely your fault anyway."
The pilot shudders, but knows that she is partly to blame. "Haven't you ever done something that you regretted later?"
"I have. Luckily, the bloke never found out. He's still with her, and they're happy."
"Whereas I may have wrecked a marriage because I was lonely. I did get lonely out there, Owen. I thought of you on so many days, wondering what you were doing. On some days, when things were awful, I wished I stayed."
"And what about the good days? Did you think about me at all?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"The truth," Owen says calmly.
"Those were the days I was glad I left. There is so much beauty out there. I'm glad that I got to experience some of it."
Although her words hurt, Owen can at least appreciate the fact that she won't sugar-coat things. He could always count on her to be so candid. "Like what?"
"I saw beautiful towers that looked like they were made of glass, flowers as big as my head that gave off wonderful and intoxicating aromas, planes that flew so fast that they could barely be detected by the naked eye. My God, the future is so brilliant and overwhelming and amazing." She speaks with so much conviction, and her face lights up.
"I asked you to take me with you," he replies. "You refused."
Diane nods in agreement. "I know."
"And you said you loved me."
"I did. I do, Owen." She reaches towards him to touch his face, but he flinches.
"How can you say that to me after you left?" he mutters bitterly. "I opened up to you. I told you I was scared, and you turned around and deserted me. Do you call that love?"
"I love you in my own fashion, Owen. I love you in the only way I know how."
"It wasn't enough!" Owen hisses. "I used to blame the rift for taking me away from you, but it wasn't the rift, it was you who decided that I wasn't enough for you."
Diane shakes her head impatiently, wondering why he can't see things from her perspective. "What about me, Owen? What kind of life would I have had here, languishing on the ground when my first love is to be in the sky?"
"If you were patient, you would have gotten your license back."
"And what was I to do in the meantime? I would have been miserable, and would have made you miserable. Who knows what have happened? When the thrill of passion eventually faded, would you have honestly stuck by me?"
"I guess we'll never know," Owen retorts.
"I know what would have happened because I know myself," she says defiantly. "I have been with men who have tried to get me into a relationship on their terms, and I could never do that. Call me selfish if you'd like, but I did what I had to do to be happy."
"And are you happy? All alone without any family or friends? All of those adventures, and no-one to share them with," Owen says. "Ianto doesn't even like me very much, but he would gladly give his life for mine. If I told Tosh I was scared, she would hold my hand. Gwen has fought beside me day after day to save this world. Jack forgave me when he had no reason to. And yesterday? We all made sacrifices for each other because of the mess you left us. Part of love is sacrifice. You aren't just selfish; you're shallow if you can't see that."
"So you didn't come out here to talk to me? You just came out here to insult me some more," Diane says angrily.
"You could have shared in that life!"
"And it wouldn't have been my life! I would have been living through you!" Diane shouts. An older woman who happens to be passing by looks at the pilot; she appears to want to help, but hesitates. Diane ignores the woman and lowers her voice. "Why can't you understand that?"
"If life here would have made you unhappy, we could have started a life somewhere else." His voice sounds almost like a plea.
"What about your team? Do you think you could have left them?"
"They would have understood if that's what made me happy." Owen waits for a response, but the pilot doesn't offer him one. He throws his hands up and walks away. "It doesn't matter now."
Diane follows him and grabs his arm to stop him. "So this is what we have left, isn't it? Nothing left except resentment."
Owen sneers at her. "Maybe love just ends in a lifetime of resentment. Who needs that, right? Maybe I should just stick to a series of random shags."
"You shouldn't cheapen sex, Owen."
"And you can say that with a straight face? Now, who's being delusional? The sex is always cheap if you're not willing to put some effort into the relationship. Only I'm willing to admit that, and I'm willing to live with that," Owen says as he walks away.
Diane walks after him and pulls him around by the shoulder. She holds on to his shirt, refusing to let go. "Please, Owen. I don't want us to leave things this way. You do mean so much to me. You opened my eyes to so many possibilities, and for that I am eternally grateful. I just don't want you to hate me. I don't think I could bear that." Her hand loosens its grip and slides down his arm.
Owen recalls a time when that touch meant so much to him, and for a moment, he feels just a fragment of excitement. He seizes this moment and kisses her, but she doesn't respond with the same passion. "I can't hate you," he whispers in her ear. "I'm angry with you, but I can't hate you. It would be easier for me if I did."
"And what would you do with that hate?" she asks him mournfully, gazing into his eyes.
"It would have killed the memory of you once and for all," Owen replies.
"And then what?" Diane asks softly. "You have so much to offer someone else, Owen. That hate would have just gotten in the way of your happiness."
"Stop it," Owen pleads. "You gave me hope once, and then you took it away. Stop messing with my head."
"I don't mean to. I just -"
He interrupts her, unable to take any more of the conversation, "Just stop it."
