Chapter 28: Owen's Place

Owen was woken by the clatter of cutlery on plates and the sound of laughter. He reluctantly opened his eyes: he was in his flat, so who were the people making the noise? It took a few moments but then he remembered, it was Jacks 3 and 5. He looked at the beside clock and groaned when he saw the time: 6.42. He tried to get back to sleep but the noise from the main room – the TV was now on – prevented him and he finally admitted defeat and pulled himself out of bed. He grabbed a robe and wandered into the main living room where he found Jack 5 on the couch watching TV and Jack 3 sitting at the table finishing some breakfast: eggs from the smell, Owen decided.

"Morning," cried Jack 3, full of life at this ungodly hour and despite having downed quite a few whiskies the night before. "Can I make you some breakfast?"

"No, thanks," mumbled Owen, making a grab for the coffee pot and pouring some into a mug. He found some painkillers and took them with a swig of coffee. He ambled over the couch and slumped beside Jack 5.

"Good morning," said Jack 5, fiddling with the remote control. "God, I hate these things! It's so old-fashioned. Voice activation is so much easier."

"What are you looking for?" asked Owen, seeing cartoons on the screen. He reached for the remote when it looked like Jack 5 would throw it across the room.

"The news?"

Owen pressed the appropriate button and Bob the Builder was replaced by BBC News 24. Owen sipped his coffee, taking in a roadside bombing in Iraq, financial shenanigans by one of the airlines and yet another knife death in London. The same thing as always. Jack 5 seemed interested and sat watching avidly. Behind him, Owen heard Jack 3 run water into the bowl: with luck he would clear the washing up that had amassed over the past few days. Owen heaved himself to his feet and took his now empty mug over to join the other crocks.

"You must have been busy lately," said Jack 3, "to have allowed all this to mount up." He was washing glasses and mugs and had plates and cutlery lined up ready for their turn.

"No, it's usually like that," admitted Owen. "I'm not into housework."

"But you have such a lovely place. My place is a quarter the size of this one room."

"I thought you lived in the Hub," said Owen. "At least, my Jack does. I assumed you always had."

"No, I've always had somewhere of my own. Wouldn't want to live in that place!"

Jack 5 joined the conversation, having turned off the TV when the sports news started. "We move into the Hub in 2000, when there's no-one else." Owen looked at him blankly. "You know, after Alex shot everyone?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Who's Alex?" asked Owen.

"Alex was leader of Torchwood 3 in 1999. He found the locket that came through the Rift. You must know this!" he protested.

"I don't, honest!" protested Owen. "What locket?"

Jack 5 sighed and sat on one of the stools. "The locket showed the future, specifically what was going to happen in the 21st century. Alex cracked, couldn't take it. He shot the other members of his team, all four of them. On New Years Eve, 1999." Jack 5 paused, lost in memories. "I found them and him. He shot himself in front of me. Happy New Year!" he added ironically.

"What did you do?" Owen was interested in spite of himself.

"Only thing I could, cleared up. Put the bodies in the morgue, cleared their homes and moved into the Hub 'cause there was no-one else to monitor the Rift. Torchwood London sent some temporary help but they were pretty useless so I got rid of them as soon as I could. Recruited Suzie, then Tosh and then you. You know the rest." It was obvious Jack 5 did not relish the memory of that time.

Owen was amazed. He could not imagine walking into the Hub and finding all his team mates dead. What would he have done? He doubted he'd have been as practical, as organised, as Jack had been. Owen thought he'd probably have got out as soon as he could and got drunk until he'd forgotten the whole thing, left someone else to clear up the mess. He wasn't surprised Jack had acted differently; he was far more committed to helping his fellows than Owen was. Maybe Owen should appreciate that more and not always try to undermine him. Yeah, and pigs might fly!

"I'm going to get showered and dressed," he said to the others, "we'll need to leave soon."