Chapter Text
Prologue:
Owen Harpers life was a story he knew a lot of people would struggle to believe, and sometimes he struggles to believe it himself. He went from being perfectly normal, with a normal job, normal friends, normal relationship, overall normal life to hunting aliens for an organisation named Torchwood in a secret base beneath Cardiff, doing autopsies on human and alien corpses alike, cutting ties with everyone he knew before, and losing all that he once held dear.
I’d you’d have told him five years ago, after he’d just proposed to his girlfriend, Y/N, that he’d have lost everything he had, including her, he’d have punched you in the face, calling you all kinds of fucking nuts but no… that’s exactly what happened.
He struggled to remember sometimes just how he got here because it was too painful to look back, he had to separate himself from his past because he’d lose his mind if he didn’t. He’d changed so much since joining Torchwood, and he didn’t like it, he didn’t know himself anymore but it was the only way he could cope.
Y/N’s death ruined his life, ruined his mental health, ruined who he was as a person, he couldn’t be that person after she died because so much of him ended up dying with her. He’d never lost hope that she’d be okay, never, he pushed for more tests, more scans, more everything to make sure she lived but even after everything, having to accept there was nothing he could have done made it all that much harder. Having to live knowing she was dead the moment her first symptoms showed up.
She’d died from a alien parasite growing inside her brain, but of course at first he didn’t know any of that, at first it was determined Y/N’s lapse in memory was some temporary amnesia from a bang on the head she suffered after being assaulted by a patient at work, but then in the following months it got worse, it was settled that she had early onset Alzheimer’s, though Owen couldn’t accept that because she’d be one of the youngest people to ever have it, going against almost all medical science.
So, Owen ordered another scan, which this time uncovered a large tumour, which had magically grown within a week since her last MRI, but he hadn’t really questioned it much at the time, it was actually something of a relief to him that all this pain for him and Y/N could possibly be reversed and things could go back to normal. That it would all be alright, just like he promised her, he knows he shouldn’t have made promises he wasn’t sure he could keep but he couldn’t bare to see her cry, to suffer, he’d have said anything to make her smile, to give her hope, anything at all.
But on the day of her surgery, all that hope came crashing down when Jack Harkness showed up and he had to see that parasite on Y/N’s brain, the thing that had taken her from him, struggling to accept it had been from another world, something unpredictable, that no amount of medical intervention could have stopped.
It made it all worse, made his grief worse, Jack never helped in those initial days and weeks after by making him feel like he was losing it, rambling about aliens to everyone who’d listen and in turn being treated like he was crazy, like he had lost his mind from the grief. He understood now why Jack did it, it’s what Torchwood did, tampered with, erased anything that was evidence to extra terrestrial life but at the time, Owen just wanted answers, validation that he hadn’t imagined everything, validation that Y/N died with no hope of survival in any case, despite how much tougher it made things to stomach.
His initial weeks in Torchwood were surreal, his heart hadn’t been in it on top of being in the middle of his grieving process, he spent a lot of his first couple of weeks drinking, and missing missions because of hangovers leading Tosh to have to cover for him on a couple of occasions.
He’s surprised Jack didn’t fire him but Jack must have given him some grace, knowing he was still in pain over Y/N, though he’s never truly stopped being in pain, he could just deal with it slightly better now and had got a lot better at hiding it until he was out of work.
Saying that, Owen still finds himself at night going back to the day she died, resulting in him still regularly getting drunk alone, on the nights he doesn’t go out and find a woman to fill his bed for the night, and looking back through their picture collection.
Remembering, or more accurately reliving, walking back into the house he and Y/N shared the day she died alone with a bottle of whiskey, he remembers sitting drinking, looking at the pictures of them scattered over the living room, remembering the time and place of each photo, then getting angry. Pissed at the world. Pissed at everybody, himself more than anything, for allowing this to happen even if it wasn’t his fault. He then trashed the place, screaming, crying, why this had to happen to him? Why him? What did he do? All Owen wanted was to wake up from the nightmare but he never did because it was real. That was his life now.
This morning then was like most of his mornings nowadays, he woke up with a hangover, some random girl beside him that he’d picked up from a club last night.
As carefully as he could, he sat up, popped a couple of paracetamol with some water, caught sight of the picture of him and Y/N sat on his bedside table, keeping it there to remind himself who he used to be before he went about his day. It tormented him more than anything else, reminding him of a life he could never have now but he felt he deserved it, so kept it in plain sight.
He stares at it for a few seconds then gets to his feet and pulls on some clothes heading to his kitchen. Ten minutes later, Owen sat at the breakfast bar with a fresh cup of black coffee and toast, just sitting there in silence while he had his breakfast, waiting for the girl to wake up so he could get rid of her. He might be an wanker but he wasn’t going to drag a girl out of bed even though he probably should.
Five minutes later, his toast was gone and his coffee half drunk, this was when he was no longer alone and the woman from his bed, no he hadn’t remembered her name, was now walking towards him, dressed as he was, in last nights clothes.
“For a moment when I woke up and you weren’t there I thought you’d done a runner.” The blonde smiled and all the man could do was smile half heartedly in return.
“In my own flat? Not sure how that works.”
“It’s amazing what some guys do. I’m glad you’re not like that and at least stuck around… do you mind if I make myself a coffee?”
Owen looked at the counter below him and sighed as the girl walked over to make said coffee, then glanced in her direction “I’m sorry but I really don’t have much time, I have to go to work, I’m already late as it is, so… have your coffee then please, would you just go.”
She stopped what she was doing, turning to look at the man, her face hardened “Ah, right. You’re not so different then, kicking me out first chance you get, you don’t have to lie about being late for work, if that were true you’d have woken me up long ago. This is because you just want me gone.”
“Don’t most people after a one night stand? Isn’t that how they work, if not; I’ve been doing it wrong for a while. And if you thought this was going to be anymore than a one night thing, you’re kidding yourself, love.”
“I’m not sure what I thought, but I thought maybe you liked me a little more.”
“Clearly you were wrong.”
“Clearly.” She scoffed “You know what I’ll leave the coffee I think, just get to the point and go. Guess it makes sense you don’t want me sticking around… don’t think I’m stupid, I wasn’t gonna mention it but seems as you’re such an arsehole I will, I saw the picture in your room when I woke up, you and your girlfriend, right? Cheating on her, classy move.”
“I am not cheating on her!” Owen snaps, though to him it did feel like cheating because it’s not as if he and Y/N broke up, she died. Their relationship ended by neither of their choosing.
“She left you then and I’m a rebound? If she left you, can’t say I’m surprised if this is your bedside manner.”
Owen looked the woman straight in the eyes, stating emotionlessly “She’s dead, actually.”
There was a stunned silence, the answer unexpected and blunt “O-oh, shit, I-… I’m sorry, I didn’t-… er-… I didn’t think-… when… when did she die?”
The man closes his eyes and looks back at the counter, shaking his head “A few years ago. I don’t really wanna talk about it.”
“Well, you must have really loved her to still have pictures of her around.”
“Yeah.” He muttered, not wanting to say anything else that could prolong this conversation, he just wanted her to go.
She sensed that, and this went with it without anymore fuss, she went back to the bedroom gathered the rest of her things then left a few minutes later after Owen offered her what was left of his coffee, though it was lukewarm by then, her and Owen exchanging no more words during any of this I just an understanding smile as she left.
Although she’d thought he’d been bullshitting, he was actually late for work, meaning the second she left, he ran some mouthwash around his mouth, grabbed a jacket, pulled the chain with Y/N’s engagement ring from his pocket, put it around his neck, collected his keys, his phone then left himself, jumping into his car and driving the few minutes, dependent on traffic, to Cardiff bay.
Once he got to work, he scanned his security card, allowing him inside the hub, he hoped everyone was preoccupied and didn’t notice that he was nearly an a hour late. He knew he wasn’t that lucky, but he hoped, okay?
It was very short lived, because the moment he walked in Gwen was walking past “You’re late. Again.” Gwen scolded with a light glare “You’re lucky that we have nothing of actual importance to do today. Oh, wait, sorry, no, you have to autopsy that Trandisian Prince, Jack needs to report back to the commanding officer by two, that gives you three hours to complete an alien autopsy, you’re not making life easy for yourself. You’re going to have work quickly or we might all be decapitated, did you see the sword that thing had? I would not like to be on the receiving end.”
“I don’t think you could miss it, but which sword are you talking about because that could be meant in more ways than one, either way, I agree, it’s too much for any man, or woman.” Jack says with a wink to the welsh woman, after walking into Owen’s field of vision “Fun night? Must have been given you’re still in yesterday’s clothes.” The immortal then asked him with a smirk.
“Didn’t have time to change, and yeah, last night was as good as it gets- booze and hot women, what else can a man ask for?” Owen replied, enthusiastically, grin spread on his lips, slipping into his usual work persona moving towards his desk, placing his keys and phone down, grabbing his lab coat “You need this autopsy done by two, yeah?”
“Yep!” Jack calls back.
“Great.” Owen mutters to himself “And how exactly am I meant to do that on a species we’ve never encountered before?”
“No idea, next time you’ve got an important alien autopsy to carry out by a deadline, don’t get drunk.” Jack shot back at him unhelpfully.
“Cheers, Jack. So helpful.” The doctor sighs under his breath, grabbing all the equipment he thinks he needs, takes it down to the medical/autopsy bay where the body is already laid out for him, which he quietly appreciated.
With this deadline hanging over him, Owen got to work, hoping to god that the internal systems of this being were similar to humans or they all might have to watch their internal organs be cut out and fed to them but he was used to these occurrences now, that was Torchwood for you, everything no matter how out there was just another day.
It was Owen’s life now, it serves it’s purpose, allows him to use his skills, distract himself and he does enjoy it, but he still has to go home and face the void still gaping in his life, he wishes more than anything for something to drop out of the sky and fix his life, it won’t happen, he knew it but he still couldn’t help but wish as he was fed up of just existing, he simply wanted to live again.