Just Imagine...

A Day in Torchwood

{CONTENT WARNING: contains suicide ideation}

"So... are you going to jump?" Owen asked the woman next to him. She looked at him in surprise.
"You're not going to try and stop me?" She asked.
"Not if you really want to." Owen said. 
The woman stared out at the view of the city, seemingly afraid to look down at the empty street below.
"I don't know." She admitted, voice shaking.
"Why don't I tell you a little story," Owen murmured, cringing internally as he realized how much he sounded like Sam Bloody Ryder, "and then you can decide, hmm? How's that sound?"
"Okay." The woman sighed, scooting back from the edge of the building a little. Good.
"About a week ago, I almost died," Owen began, "and I thought no one cared..."

It had all started the day after Owen's near miss with a bullet to the chest.
He'd been down in the autopsy bay, cleaning up his medical supplies, when a scalpel nicked his palm. Bright red blood oozed from the cut and Owen froze. Normally the sight of blood would activate his instincts and he would immediately become a doctor and nothing more, someone there to help heal people.
But not today.
Today, the sight of his own blood reminded him how fragile he really was and just how easy it would be for someone to kill him. His throat constricted and his heart started pounding in his chest. He couldn't breathe. The room was spinning.
"Owen?"
He glanced up at Martha's voice and saw that she and Tosh were staring at him in concern from the railing above.
"You're hurt!" Tosh exclaimed.
Owen tried to say it was nothing and he could handle it but no words came out. He was choking on nothing. He was dying.
Tosh and Martha seemed to sense what was happening and both rushed to him, steadying him on either side as he swayed on his feet.
"Owen, look at me, it's okay," Tosh murmured, gripping his shoulder, "just breathe, everything is okay."
"JACK!" Martha shouted. Great, that was what Owen needed, more people to witness this. Not.
"What's wrong?" Jack shouted, bounding over. Sam, Ianto, and Gwen, overhearing the commotion, came to stand nearby, Sam putting her arms around Gwen and Ianto's shoulders.
"I think Owen's having a panic attack!" Martha exclaimed.
Is that what this was? It felt like the edge of death to Owen. But Tosh was there and she was so beautiful and it was beginning to calm him down. The claws around Owen's chest loosened and he could breathe again. His heart slowed to a normal pace.
But it still wasn't okay.

"What happened next?" The woman asked, seemingly very concerned by the story.
"Jack told me to go home." Owen answered.

"You need to relax," Jack said, "your incident just now made that clear. Go home, watch tv, just chill."
"If I could chill I wouldn't be having panic attacks." Owen muttered.
"Owen, this is not up for debate," Jack said firmly, "I want you to go home and rest for a couple days."
"What about the rest of you? You need a doctor."
"We've got Martha. She stitched your hand up pretty well, didn't she?"
Owen looked down at the neat row of stitches in his palm, then closed his fist around them despite how much it hurt.
"Fine," he snarled, "I wanted to go home anyway. I'm tired of this place, it just reminds me of how easily people die."
He turned and stormed out of Jack's office, roughly pushing Ianto out of the way as he did so.
"OI!" Ianto barked angrily, but Owen wasn't listening.
"Owen, what is going on with you?" Gwen asked.
"Like you care." Owen muttered, not even looking back.
"Owen!" Tosh called, sounding worried. But Owen ignored her, striding right out the cog wheel door.
This was the second time he'd been kicked out of the hub like this, and it still hurt just as much. Still, Owen pushed on, blinking back tears.
Back at his flat, Owen sat at the kitchen counter, dazed. He felt nothing. Everything on tv was stupid and boring. There was nothing interesting in the fridge, not even alcohol. The couch felt like a pile of rocks and his bed didn't feel much better. He was somehow both overwhelmed and underwhelmed at the same time and he hated it. He looked at the stitches in his palm again, feeling a strange urge to tear them out. But he refrained.
There was a knock at the door. It was Tosh. She was smiling awkwardly and holding a pizza box.
"Hi Owen," she murmured, "I... thought you might be hungry or that you might just need some company so-"
"I'm not hungry." Owen cut her off.
"Okay, that's fine," Tosh said, "do you... mind if I come in?"
Owen hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside so Tosh could come into his flat. She made herself right at home immediately, sitting at the island in the kitchen and opening the pizza box, taking a huge bite out of a slice.
"So," she mumbled around her mouthful as Owen joined her, "are we still planning on going on that date?"
"I don't know." Owen muttered despondently.
"I am!" Tosh said, almost sounding hurt, "we can go anywhere you want."
"I don't want to go anywhere."
"You want to stay in? Order takeout? Who's place, mine or yours?"
"How are you not getting it, Tosh? I almost died two days ago! I am not thinking about going on a date with you right now, and I might never think about it again!"
Tosh really looked hurt now.
"What are you saying?" She asked softly, "that you wish you'd never said yes?"
"Right now, yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying!" Owen snapped, though he immediately regretted it.
"Well FINE!" Tosh shouted, tears springing to her eyes, "I'm glad you feel that way! I can't believe I wanted to go on a date with you in the first place!"
"Oh, come off it, Tosh!" Owen exclaimed, "we both know that's not true! For the love of God, can you all just leave me alone?!"
He didn't even wait for Tosh to answer, he just left his flat. He had no idea where he was going, but he found himself at the edge of the docks. The sea air was cold on his face but he didn't care. Maybe he should just jump in and let it be over with, but then again he was too much of a coward for that and he knew it.
"COWABUNGA!"
Owen didn't have a second to think about who the hell had said that before someone slammed into him from behind and shoved him into the frigid Cardiff Bay water. For a second Owen panicked, unable to find the surface, but then a moment later he did and he resurfaced, spluttering. He heard laughter.
"Sam, I can't believe you," he growled, "this is a new low for you."
"Aww," Sam cooed with a chuckle, "you know nothing's too low for me, buddy. Now c'mon, you look stupid bobbing around down there." She extended her hand and Owen took it, letting her haul him out of the water. He was absolutely freezing now.
"Take me back to the hub." He murmured, shivering so hard his teeth chattered.
"Really?" Sam asked, "Jack said-"
"I don't care," Owen hissed, "I wanna talk to him about his little idea." 
Sam blinked, then shrugged.
"Okay pal," she murmured, putting her arm around his soaking shoulders, "but I'm just warning you, Jack ain't just gonna let you waltz back in after only one day."
Owen didn't respond, just huddled into himself against the cold.
"You okay?" Sam asked. 
"I'm fine." Owen said. But it was a lie.