Chapter 10
After being shown around his apartment, which looked barely lived in, Owen settled on the sofa and absorbed everything he had heard, seen and been exposed to today.
So Owen liked both men and women. He seemed to have been a bit of a bastard to people, taking the piss out of them, having affairs with women who had boyfriends, basically being an arse. It didn't appear he had many friends outside of Torchwood because no one but Tosh, Ianto and Jack had visited him. Whatever happened, when his memory did fully return, he promised himself he would never end up going back to being a dick who pushed people aside and hurt them. No more locking things away.
He wanted to call Toshiko, but didn't know her number. Ianto had left his mobile and work numbers in case he had any problems, but Owen didn't want to pester Ianto for her number, making him seem desperate to talk to Tosh. He could wait until she was ready to speak to him.
He spent the rest of the afternoon immersing himself in his possessions and history. He started in the bedroom.
Clothes were strewn over the bed. He tried each item on, looking at himself in a full length mirror in one corner of the room. He appeared to own lots of casual clothing, jeans, t-shirts, hoodies, but he also found at the far back of the wardrobe several tailored black and pinstriped suits, with a variety of plain white and blue collared shirts and ties. When he'd finished with the clothes, he tried on the shoes.
Clothes from another lifetime, with Katie and NHS hospitals. As he tried items on he reflected on his memories of her. He had loved her. Possibly his first love, and since he'd remembered her he had felt a feeling of confusion over what had happened to her, but also at the back of his mind a feeling of devastation. How could the one person he loved in the whole world be the one person he had been unable to save? And just like that Owen was hit with the knowledge that Katie had died on an operating table.
Everything he knew about medicine meant nothing if he hadn't been able to save her. That day had destroyed his faith in his ability to heal, and opened his mind to the impossible world of extraterrestrial life. When you closed one door, another one opened. His life had become meaningful in a different way, saving people from aliens instead of disease or injury.
The room didn't hold any picture frames or mementoes he could see.
Checking his bedside table draws he found a heap of condoms, a tube of lubricant, and several assorted sex toys, including cock rings and a butt plug. He obviously enjoyed sex, given the vast quantities of supplies in the drawer. He quickly closed the it and wandered into the bathroom.
Everywhere looked fairly clean; a walk in shower, a stand alone bath tub, a sink and toilet. The space above the sink held a long width mirror. He gave the bathroom cabinets a wide berth – sure of what he'd find in them.
Owen trailed into the living room, and switch on the large flat screen TV on the wall. The living area was square with the bedroom and bathroom coming off of it. The TV took up the majority of one wall, with a comfortable brown leather sofa angled adjacent. Each end of the sofa was bordered by two oak, square coffee tables. He noticed speakers under the wall mounted TV, and in each corner of the room, wired for surround sound.
Again, there were no personal items, picture frames of family or friends. Everything was sterile looking, very impersonal. Owen wondered to himself what his relationships had been like with his family? Did he have any family still around? Distant or immediate? If not, why not? Were they dead or estranged? He had so many questions and still no one to talk it over with.
He went to the fridge and rooted around, spying a green long necked bottle, hidden at the back of the fridge, behind a large block of plastic encased cheese, and an ear of cauliflower. Carefully extracting he searched all the kitchen drawers, eventually coming upon a small bottle opener. Cracking the metal cap off the condensation covered green bottle, Owen took a long pull of the beverage, letting its yeasty, carbonated liquid slide down his throat.
He chocked a little at the coldness of the fluid as it flowed down his digestive pipe.
He left the kitchen, beer clenched in hand as he easily located the remote controls to all the electrical appliances in the living room.
Dropping onto the soft leather sofa, Owen hit on the 'ON' switch on one remote, causing the TV to burst into life. Some skills you never seemed to forget, it seemed. After setting up the satellite box he surfed through the 752 channels he was obviously paying for, but couldn't seem to settle down to one particular programme. An hour went by before he grew tired of pressing the control buttons.
Frustrations at himself and his situation caused him to shut the TV off and throw the remote down next to him, slightly hard than he'd intended. The controller bounced off the cushion tipping off the edge as it landed, clattering onto the hardwood floor. Owen flung himself back against the cushions.
This was ridiculous. He felt like a prisoner in his own home! Gathering his strength he hauled himself up, located a jacket, and remembering to collect his house keys, left the apartment, locking it up behind him.