Owen's End of Days

What really happened just before Jack disappeared?

When Owen heard Jack's words "I forgive you," he crumpled instantly, involuntarily. Right there in front of the whole team. It surprised them all. Jack was swift to react. He quickly reached up, his hand firmly grasping the back of Owen's neck to pull the young doctor into an embrace that was warm, reassuring and sympathetic. He trapped him tightly against his shoulder, his hand rubbing comfortingly, vigorously, up and down the length of Owen's back, not permitting him to pull away.

Owen began to weep, hesitantly at first, but quickly breaking down into gasping sobs. Jack didn't let go; he held him firmly, instinctively kissing the top of his head to give additional reassurance. They stood there until Jack realized that Owen was tiring and had cried himself out. With an arm still around the young doctor's shoulder, Jack said quietly, but with command, "Come with me," and led Owen to the sofa. Owen followed his Captain unquestioningly. Finally.

"Let's just sit for a moment and regroup, huh?" suggested Jack.

Owen nodded and slumped against the arm at one end of the sofa, shrinking into himself. Jack sat next to him, deliberately re-establishing the closeness.

"This has been coming at you for a while, hasn't it Owen?" Jack said gently, opening the conversation at a very personal level.

Owen, for once, made no attempt to put on a show of bravado. He offered no wisecrack. He simply looked at Jack, his still eyes red from the tears he'd shed, and nodded. His shields were down. He had no energy left with which to fight. "Yeah. I guess."

"Tell me about it. What's going on? Whatever it is, we can try to make it better." Jack was quiet but insistent. He played many roles within his team. He was always the Captain, but sometimes he was friend or father, brother or lover, and occasionally, counselor. And today, for Owen, he sensed that he needed to be a little of all these.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I'm so sorry."

"Yes, I know you are, Owen." Jack was totally genuine. "But I need to understand what's happening to you."

Owen snorted. "Me too!"

Jack stood up. "Stay there. Don't move." He commanded. "I won't be a moment." He went to his office and returned with the whisky decanter and two glasses full of the light amber fluid.

Owen raised his eyebrows. "Thought you reckoned you didn't drink, and that I shouldn't drink so much?" he said as he took a sip, the liquid raw on his dry throat. He took another mouthful to wash it down.

"Talk to me, Owen." said Jack, ignoring the last comment. "What's been going on with you that you try to get yourself killed deliberately in a fight with a weevil, you provoke Ianto into shooting you, then you actually kill me?" Although the words were strong, the tone was gentle, not critical.

Jack reached out and touched Owen's chin lightly, tilting his face towards him, really seeing him for the first time in weeks. He realized that there were dark circles under his eyes, as dark as the ones under his own, and Owen was even thinner than normal.

"When did you last eat or sleep?" asked Jack, suspiciously.

Owen shook his head. "I don't know. I don't care."

"I do." reprimanded Jack, sharply. "I need my whole team."

"You might have noticed. I've not really been much of a team player recently," said Owen. "You don't tend to get a very good year-end performance review if you kill your boss." His observation was wry.

"Well, true, it might have a negative influence on your chances of a pay rise" grinned Jack, relieved to hear a little spirit creeping back into Owen, "but trust me, Doctor Harper, you are an asset to my team. And I want you back. Now have another drink and talk to me."

Owen took a deep breath, finished off his glass and started to speak, deliberately not making eye contact with Jack. The things he was about to say, wanted to say, needed to say, weren't easy for him to admit to himself, let alone to vocalize to anyone else. Particularly to someone whom he had shot dead. "I thought I'd finally found happiness again when Diane came into my life. I really did. I felt alive and loved and cared for, for the first time in…. in…." he broke off, choking back a sob.

Jack moved in closer. He thought he knew what Owen was building to. He was no psychologist, but he knew Owen needed to voice it.

"And then she left. She just left. Said she loved me and then she fucking left me, Jack! My life changed from one moment to the next. Just like that." He clicked his fingers violently together and let his gaze linger on them for a moment, before he turned to look Jack in the eye. "Not the first time I've had to deal with being suddenly alone." Despite the alcohol, he was stone cold sober.

"And how are you dealing with it, Owen?" asked Jack , still gently, as he met Owen's brown eyes, seeing the anger flare in them.

"How do you think, Jack? " snapped Owen, then suddenly looking away again. The emotion had become too intense. "I almost got myself killed twice in a month. And then I opened the Rift and nearly got everyone on the planet killed! It doesn't take a genius, or a doctor, to see that's not exactly a healthy attitude."

"Doctors," said Jack, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "What do they know?"

Owen smiled too, his anger evaporating as he recalled saying that very thing to Jack not so long ago from a hospital bed. The smile turned into a yawn. Owen rubbed his eyes and sighed. "I'm tired, Jack. So fucking tired."

"That's probably because I put a sedative into your drink."

Owen rolled his eyes but didn't explode as Jack had half expected he might. Owen even looked grateful. "A nap for a couple of hours sounds pretty good right now, actually." Without realizing he was doing it, he leaned wearily up against the soft but solid comfort of Jack's shoulder.

"We need to finish this before you fall asleep, Owen." Jack gently prompted him to continue talking.

Owen nodded. Jack couldn't tell whether the doctor was truly in agreement, or just humouring him. But then Owen began to talk. "Jack, I miss her so much." He swallowed back the tears that again threatened to engulf him.

"So, was it the vision of Diane that tempted you to open the Rift?" Jack hoped that he could tease the real truth from Owen.

Owen shook his head. "I miss her so fucking much." This time, with the sedative starting to really take hold, he wasn't in control and he couldn't stop his tears. "For God's sakes, I'm crying again. That's twice in an hour. I haven't cried since ….."

Jack pulled the exhausted and vulnerable young doctor back against him again, rocking him slightly. It reminded him of the one other occasion when Owen had permitted him to offer comfort. That had been the only other time he'd ever really heard Owen reveal his inner feelings. Oh, he could be mouthy and vocal about things, but he never let anyone know how he truly felt inside.

"Since what…." Jack prompted.

"Since she died. I couldn't even cry when she died, or when she was buried. It was only afterwards, that day at the cemetery, when you were there. What kind of a man does that make me? Someone who can't even cry at…."

Owen broke down completely, sagging into Jack for comfort. "I lived for her, I would have died for her. She was my life. When I lost her, I lost myself. I lost my way. I thought I'd found it again with Torchwood, but then Diane appeared and I lost it all over again…." There. He'd said it. It was out in the open now, something that could be dealt with now it had substance.

Gradually, the wracking sobs subsided and Jack realized that Owen had finally given in to the sedative and was almost asleep. He lifted the doctor's feet up onto the end of the sofa, loosened his belt; and pulled the thin frame into his lap, pillowing the doctor's head in his arms. He tipped his own head back to rest against the wall and wearily closed his eyes.

And that is how Ianto found them an hour later. Despite wanting to be with Jack, despite wanting more reassurance than that one surprising, enigmatic kiss, he understood that he'd needed to leave them alone. At first, he thought they were both asleep. Jack's breathing was as deep and regular as Owen's. But Jack lifted his head and opened his eyes, which glistened suspiciously brightly, when Ianto entered. He smiled weakly. He was exhausted.

"Everything OK?" Ianto asked, concerned.

"Yeah, it will be now," said Jack, smoothing Owen's hair. He eased the doctor out of his arms, and placed a cushion gently under his head. "I've got to go do some paperwork in the office and arrange for Owen to have a few days off. When he wakes up, would you take him out and feed him, I don't think he's eaten in days. Any chance you could bring us all some coffee back too?"

Ianto nodded and turned to go. He heard Jack mutter something but it was too quiet for him to hear.

"Pardon?"

Jack turned briefly to Ianto, and then back again to look at the sleeping Owen.

"We'll get him through this. All of us together. It's all been about Katie. Losing the love of his life was his own End of Days."

Ianto turned to go and, so quietly that Jack almost didn't hear him, said "Thinking you were dead, killed by Abaddon, was my End of Days. Jack, I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Jack reached out and pulled Ianto towards him. "Believe me, Ianto, I would never leave you. There is nothing on earth that could take me away from you. Nothing on Earth."