Light flooded his vision as he opened his eyes, blinking furiously. Everything was blurry as he looked around, squinting as best he could, trying to get past everything that looked as if it were swimming. As far as he could tell, people were everywhere- but did he know any of them?
"Look, he's getting up," said a voice, deep and rough.
"Well, don't hit him like you did last time," said a voice, female this time. It sounded vaguely familiar to Owen as well…
"N-Natasha…?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes to clear them. The woman scoffed at him.
"Don't call me that, Doctor Harper," the woman said, "it's Agent Romanoff when you're here. Got it?" Owen looked up at her, her face leering and crude.
"Wh-what was that, love?" he asked warily, turning his attention from the man to Natasha. What had happened after they had turned the corner…?Natasha bent down, her dress shown goff an ample valley of cleavage in the process. Owen noticed the man was shifting, his eyes focused on her bosom.
"Listen, dearie," Natasha smirked, "let's just say our date wasn't working out for me." Owen raised an eyebrow in confusion. The man- Didn't she call him Clint?- was still focused on her breasts, a lewd grin on his face. Owen sat up, the wall cool against his back.
"Oi!" he snapped at Clint.
"Me?" Clint pointed to himself, genuinely confused.
"Yeah, you!" Owen quipped, his lips forming a thin line, "don't be nasty now!"
"What are you talking about?" Natasha demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. Owen jutted his chin at Clint.
"The bloody wanker was undressing you with his eyes, love!" Owen said defensively, "that isn't the way to treat a woman!" Natasha widened her eyes- Owen was probably the first person to call Clint out on his actions. She knew he looked at her like that, but she tried not to pay it any mind. Of course, now that Owen noticed, it made her feel… violated, she guessed. No man had ever defended her like that. She felt herself blush, then shrugged it off.
"Don't pay him any mind, Doctor Harper," Natasha said bluntly.
"But-"
"I will deal with him later," she cut him off, "for now, we would like to ask you a few questions."
"Alright… what then?" he asked. Clint had an annoyed look on his face, as if he and just swallowed a lemon whole.
"For starters, do you know of Norse mythology?" Natasha said, jeering over him. Owen shrugged. He wasn't particularly experienced in the area. he informed her thus. She sighed, rubbing her forehead, "Alright, well, have you at least heard of Loki?"
"God of Mischief, no?" he said. She nodded.
"Yes," she said, "we believe he has reason to associate with….. a colleague of yours, let's say." Colleague…..? Owen thought, wrinkling his nose, does she mean….?
"….Jack," he mumbled, widening his eyes, "what would he want with Jack?"
"Not just Jack," Clint said, "all of you. Gwen Cooper, Toshiko….. Donovan Ianto…."
"Oh…. shit…" Owen muttered, shaking his head.
"….Susie Costello…." Clint rambled, counting on his fingers.
"Susie Costello is dead!" Owen blurted, "she killed herself!" Clint ignored him.
"….and yourself," he said finally, much to Owen's dismay, "Doctor Owen Harper."
"B-but…. what would he want with us?" Owen let out a nervous titter of a laugh, "I mean, we aren't anything special…
"That's where you're wrong, Doc," said a voice- male, lower then Clint's More demanding, really. Natasha and Clint immediately gave a stiff salute, Natasha righting herself.
"Saergent," She said with a nod. A blade man nodded back politely, his hands shoved in the pockets of a long black leather trench coat.
"Agent Romanoff, Agent Barton," he said, then he nodded to Owen, "I see you made it here safely. That's good."
"Safely?!" Owen panicked, his voice rising, "your little minions practically abducted me!"
"Well, beggars can't be choosers," the man said, holding out a hand, "Nick Fury. Director of S.H.I.E.L.D." Owen took his hand, shaking it with trembling fingers.
"Doctor Owen Harper," he answered, his voice now barely a whisper- who were these people and what did they want with him? With Torchwood?
"We have an issue dealing with Loki," Fury said, "and we need your help."
"Down to basics, huh?" Owen said under his breath as he stood up, crossing his arms. The leather of his jacket pulled over his muscles until it looked as if the seams were about to rip.
"Your director decided to take a little filed trip to my facility the other day," fury said suddenly. Owen was taken aback- was that why he left so suddenly.
"So that's why he took the pterodactyl…" he said to himself.
"What was that?" Natasha asked, looking at him curiously. Owen shook his head, putting on a smile, saying, "Nothing, nothing. Do, proceed." Clint rolled his eyes.
"You British are all so fucking polite, it makes my skin crawl," he complained with a shake of his head.
"Well, you Americans are bloody bastards, so do kindly shut up," Owen barked at him, taking the man by surprise. Fury laced a hand on his shoulder, fingers digging into his skin until he thought the man would dislocate it.
"I would appreciate if you would cooperate, Doctor Harper," Fury said, eyes- or eye, since he wore an eyepatch- in disapproval. Owen jerked his arm away, mumbling, "Whatever, you bloody wanker."
"I'm gonna pretend I didn't here that," Fury said, "for now, follow me." Shaking his head, Owen reluctantly followed, keeping his eyes on Natasha- this was definitely a surprise, her being an agent. Then again, she hadn't really said much about herself on their date- if being abducted counted as a date. His footsteps echoed on the floor as he walked through an area filled with computers and people, all wearing the same sort of black or blue uniform, the small bird looking logo stitched on the breast. A woman with her brown hair in a bun was leaning over a man who sat at a computer, arguing with him over coordinates or something of the like.
"How come he isn't wearing the same uniform as the others?" Owen pointed out. Indeed, he was wearing not the uniform, but a pair of jeans and cowboy boots, paired with a Black Sabbath tee shirt, the decal faded on the front.
"He isn't an agent," Fury said dissuasively, "now I would appreciate if you focused on the task at hand, Doctor Harper."
"You haven't even said anything!" Owen protested, keeping his eyes on the man- specifically the shirt. Although he knew it just wasn't possible, it looked as if there was something… glowing, under the fabric, as if it had a pulse of its own. Cracking his knuckles, he approached the woman and the man, ignoring Fury shouting for him to stop.
"Excuse me, sir," the woman said immediately, hands on he rips as she stood up. She was a good two inches taller then Owen, but he wasn't focused on that, keeping his attention on the man. Owen waved her away idly.
"You're excused, whatever," Owen answered, pulling up an empty chair that sat a few feet away, "What are you doing?" Often, back in Torchwood, he would watch Toshiko work with the computers, since he wasn't exactly the technology whiz himself.
"British?" the man said, "well, that's new. Tell me, is the Queen really a Bond Girl?" Owen chuckled, cracking the faintest of a smile.
"Well, she does have the hots for David Beckham, I'll tell you that right now," Owen joked, then traced his finger on the screen, "but what do these numbers here mean?"
"Well, Captain hop over there said they had a brake in, so we have to figure out where he was and when. These are just rough coordinates and times." Owen felt sweat bead on his forehead- they were talking about Jack, he knew.
"Doctor Harper," Fury called, his voice curt, "now."
"So you're a doctor too?" the man pointed out. Owen nodded, clasping his hands behind his head as he leaned back in the chair.
"Yeah- yourself?" Owen asked. The man gave a curt nod in agreement, holding out a hand "Nah. Just kidding. Blood and guts aren't really my thing." Owen took his hand, giving it a small shake, quick and hard.
"Doctor Owen Harper," he introduced himself.
"Tony Stark," the man said. Clearing his throat, he said, "so what brings you here?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"We usually don't go to other countries unless it's a dire situation," Tony explained, "an well, here we are in Cardiff, England."
"Doctor Harper!" Fury shouted, making him jump.
"You Americans are all so bloody pushy!" Owen shouted in frustration, pushing the chair so it wheeled into a desk, falling over with a loud bang as he got up and followed the director. As he and the two agents turned a corner, Owen stole a quick glance back at Tony Stark. The woman was now with him again, chattering away about coordinates.
"Doctor Harper, your attention," Natasha demanded, snapping her fingers in his face.
"Yes, love?" he said, his distracted thoughts blowing away on the wind.
"Don't call me that," she demanded, then added, "we need you to watch these security tapes. Identify the person who broke in."
"But you already know who it is," Owen shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"I know," she said, "but we have a special assignment for you, Doctor." The doors slid open and another man walk din, wearing a button down purple shirt with brown dress pants, a pair of loafers on his feet. Natasha gestured to him, "Doctor Owen Harper, meet Doctor Bruce Banner."
"Doctor Banner, this is-" Fury began, then Owen shushed him, "I can introduce myself, thanks!" With a roll of his eyes, he nodded to Doctor Banner, saying, "Doctor Owen Harper." Banner nodded.
"Pleasure," he said simply, then beckoned Owen to follow, "Agent Romanaoff, Agent Barton. Director Fury. Please give us a few minutes?" They all idly agreed, walking away, Fury adding, "task all the time you need."
"So, what now?" Owen asked once they and left.
"Come to my lab and I'll show you," Bruce said. Owen chuckled.
"Last time someone said that to me I almost got laid," Owen reminisced. Banner ignored the comment, instead sliding open a glass door that revealed a medical station- a few screens were on one side, flickering on and off opposite a metal examination table, the sheet mussed and wrinkled. Tools sat on a small table next to it, the implements in disarray.
"Are you going to dissect me…?" Owen asked warily, caution creeping into his voice. Now Banner chuckled, shaking his head.
"No, Doctor Harper, I am not going to dissect you," Banner assured him. Owen let out breath he hadn't realized he was holding in- a sigh of relief.
"Thank heavens for that."
"What I do want you to do," Banner cleared his throat, "is watch this security tape." Leaning over to reach behind the televisions, he produced a single cassette tape, a white label sticking to the black square naming it "Security." Tossing the tape to Owen, he fumbled as he went to catch it before clutching it protectively.
"What for?" he asked.
"Just pop it into the player over there and you'll see," Banner instructed, pointed to a dust VCR. Owen shoved the tape into the mouth of the player. A whirring noise immediately started up.
"What exactly does this have to do with myself and the others, exactly?" Owen said as the screen turned blue, then revealed the lab. On screen Banner and the other man- Tony Stark, Owen remembered, were leaning over a body, the face obscured.
"You're examining a body- nothing I haven't done myself," Owen pointed out. Banner tapped the screen with his index finger, pausing the video. He pointed to the bod on the table.
"do you recognize the body?" he asked, tapping it.
"Why would I recognize a dead man?" Owen asked.
"Do you recognize him though?" Banner repeated. Grumbling, Owen peered at the screen, trying to focus on the man's image, although it was a bit blurry. Although there was a smudge of blue….
"….Jack?" Owen breathed softly. Banner furrowed his brows in concern as Owen's eyes widened, as big as saucers.
"Jack?" Banner asked, crossing his arms.
"That's impossible….." Owen whispered. And it should have been- hadn't he just seen Jack back at torch wood Institute? It can't be…. Owen thought, sucking in his cheeks, let tin gout a deep breath.
"Doctor Harper, tell me who this Jack is," Banner said.
"I…. I work with him," Owen gulped, adam's apple bobbing.
"Where do you work with him?"
"Torchwood," he answered. He could feel himself shaking now, his fingers visibly trembling.
"What was his position?" Banner pressed.
"Leader of the team….." Owen trailed off, keeping his eyes on the screen, on Jack's dead body….
It just wasn't possible. It couldn't be real.
"What did your team do, Doctor Harper?" Banner asked. Owen whipped his head to face Bruce, his mouth forming a thin line of disapproval.
"Is this an interrogation?" he asked, his eyes flitting to the corners of the room, "are you taping me?!" Banner opened his mouth, then closed it. After a few minutes, he sighed, saying, "We keep the security cameras on at all times for safety reasons."
"Bloody bastards!" Owen spit out a curse, going for the door. Gripping the edge, he tried pulling it open but the glass door was slick, result in gin his fingers sliding around with frustration as he shouted a string of derogatory terms, each one worse than the last.
"Doctor Harper, just calm down," Banner said, closing his eyes, chest heaving up and down. Turning back to the man, Owen noticed a light sheen of sweat on Banner's forehead, and he stopped fidgeting with the door.
"Please," he said, "please let me leave." Owen hated the way his voice cracked, sounding like a schoolboy who hadn't yet hit puberty. Banner rubbed his forehead. It was obvious to Owen that he was trying his best to stay calm- But what for?
"I know this isn't the ideal situation for you," Bruce explained, "it isn't for me, but I'm just doing what Fury asked. Now please just tell me: what did your team do?"
"We…. we fought aliens…" Owen hesitated, convinced that he sounded absolutely insane, "…harbored alien technology. What's it to you?"
"Because we here at S.H.I.E.L.D. do the same thing," Banner said, looking a bit uneasy.
"Really now…?" Owen nodded, cracking a nervous smile. Banner nodded, adding, "Although our aliens involve gods. So I guess they aren't really aliens to begin with." Owen bit his lip- this man definitely was not sane, although the same couldn't really be said for himself, now could it? Owen pressed his hands against the glass, trying to force the door open. Usually sliding doors allowed you to push it open in case of an emergency, but he had no such luck.
"Listen, Doctor Harper," Bruce said, "No one is here to kill you. Please just…" Out of the corner of his eye, Owen saw Banner twitch, his head suddenly cracked to the side.
"Is there any other way to bloody open the door?!" he muttered to himself fin a panic, his fingers groping for a latch or knob- something to get it open!
"i don't work for S. .L.D. myself," Banner said suddenly, making Owen freeze.
"Then why… then why are you letting them keep you here?" Owen said, not turning around. Outside, he saw a few agents traipsing about.
"I'm not," Banner said, "they called me in. I had no choice in the matter."
"What about me….?" Owen asked, his voice a hushed whisper. Banner shook his head, pursing his lips.
"I'm afraid not, Doctor Harper," Banner said, "and neither do the rest of you." Owen bit his lip, and he felt a gush of warmth flow into his mouth, between his teeth, over the tongue. Lifting a hand to his lips, his fingers came away red.
"I just bit my lip," he said plainly, rubbing his fingers on his face, a smear of crimson dashed across his face like paint.
"Doctor Harper, are you alright?" Banner asked.
"I just bit my lip…" Owen repeated, still trying to process what Banner and said. He turned his eyes up at the man, who waited patiently- a bit too patiently at that, too calm. Just a moment ago, he had seemed like he was trying to hide his anger… Owen thought, then gulped.
"i just bit my lip…." he said for a third time, receiving a scowl from the man as he added, "and you're asking em if I'm alright?"
"Well, it seems like… like your fine now," Banner said exasperated, "now what was it that Jack came here for?" Owen shook his head. On the tape, Jack was obviously dead- they were trying to cut him up…..
"….but I just saw him…." Owen said in a hushed whisper, trailing off, "….and if he died…."
"Doctor Harper?" Banner tried cutting in, but Owen waved at him, as if shooing away an annoying fly.
"….Why didn't we get called in to collect the body…?" Owen asked himself, completely ignoring Banner.
"Collect the body?" banner asked, trying to get in on what Owen was talking about, but he could see it was n use. Owen was now in his own little world, oblivious to anything or anyone that was trying to get his attention. He could have become the Hulk- gotten angry and started smashing the place- but that wouldn't have really helped. And it would only freak him out more, Banner thought.
"Torchwood- whenever anyone who works with us dies, we go collect the body…" Owen began to explain, "…we collect all their belongings, wipe the records…"
"Is that protocol?" Banner asked, "erasing someone from existence?" Owen glared at him, eyes bugging out in annoyance.
"Well, when you're with us it is!" he said in a panic, "For example! Susie Costello!"
"You said she killed herself," Banner said, reflecting not eh past conversation. Owen nodded.
"Yeah, she did!" he said, "but then instead of burying her like normal, we have to collect all her belongings and put them in boxes! We have to preserve the body and put it in the morgue-"
"You guys have a morgue?"
"Well, yeah- I work there, but that isn't the point!" Owen cried, his face starting to get red, "the point is I had to wipe my colleague from existence! Not once but twice!" Bruce raised an eyebrow in question, asking, "Twice?"
Owen shook his head, clenching and unclenching his fingers.
"It isn't…. it isn't important!" Owen said in frustration, "I just want to get out of here! Please!"
"I have too," Banenr said, "but we have no such luck, Doctor." Instantly, Owen let out a cry of rage, screaming as he was fed up with all the questions, all the riddles.
"You fucking Americans!" he screamed, "all your stupid riddles and nagging! Just let me go!" Neither rod them noticed th door slide open, the soft click as it was shut again.
"I'm afraid we can't do that, Doctor Harper," came Fury's voice, making Owen jump.
"And why the fuck not?!" Owen yelled.
"Because we have a situation," Fury said matter-of-factly- as if that cleared things up.
"Then bloody take care of it on your own instead of kidnapping me!" Owen screeched, his accent making it slightly hard for the two to understand him, "just keep me out of it!"
"I'm afraid we can't," Fury said, clasping his hands in front of him.
"Let me go or I swear I'll shove your bloody bollocks in a blender-"
"That sounds lovely, but we really should save personal activities for later," Fury cut him off bluntly.
"You- you aren't serious…" Owen faltered, taking a staggering step backwards, his already pale face getting paler.
"Unfortunately for you, I am," Fury said, "and it involves your friend."
"LEt me guess: Jack," Owen answered, clenching his jaw. Fury nodded, a sarcastic smile on his face.
"That's the one," he confirmed, "and, to make things interesting, guess who has his sights on him?"
Owen rolled his eyes, "Who, you bloody bastard?"
"…..Loki?" Banner suggested, a look of concern flashing in his eyes. Now it was Owen's turn to be confused.
"Loki- as in, God of Mischief of Norse Mythology?" Owen cracked a smile as Banner nodded, letting out a sarcastic laugh, tears stinging his eyes as his shoulders were suddenly wracked with sobs, "Oh God! You fuckers are insane!"
"We get that a lot," Fury said, his tone cold and serious, "but we have work to do."