Winnie Is Not Okay

2.14

"Pilgrim", Tosh had gotten a whole presentation ready when they met up in the conference room, "A religious support group, more like a debating society. Meaning of life, does God exist, all that stuff. The point is, it was tiny, more like a hobby, run by Mark Brisco's wife, Sarah. She had all that stashed in the wardrobe. Handwritten and photocopied. That's why we couldn't find any more records. She wasn't even online."

"No mention of Suzie or Max?", Jack asked, flipping through the pages Tosh had handed them all.

"Not a word. She didn't even keep a register."

"It wouldn't be our Suzie, though", Owen rubbed his chin, "She wouldn't go to that support group bollocks."

"How do you know?", Gwen challenged him, "I mean, were you friends? Any of you? Who was her best friend in this place?"

"She sort of kept to herself."

"Bullshit, Owen", Winnie reprimanded him instantly, "We all do. We're a team and we work together swimmingly but we don't know each other. And that's how it's supposed to be, cause when you get locked up and tortured I don't want you knowing my family's names. And Suzie probably didn't either."

"Well, then", Gwen deterred with a smile before they could discuss, "If she needed to talk, maybe that's exactly where she'd go. A group of complete strangers."

"Could be", Jack ran a hand over the side of his face in exhaustion, "You've got a point, Gwen. Time we got to know our deceased colleague a little better."

"I hate active investigations", Winnie said on the drive to the storage units, "Like, even the police take their breaks and time off when their actively investigating. But us? We don't pause until we're done. Can't we do archeology again? Nothing's active about that."

"Last time that literally turned into an active investigation, Winnie, so shut it and take it in stride", Jack scolded her as he parked the car in front of Suzie's unit.

"Have I got this right?", Gwen asked, exiting the car, "When I die, you get to keep all my possessions? My whole life's gonna get stashed in a locker?"

"Rules and regulations", Jack replied.

"Did you even read them?", Winnie commented, opening the door lock.

"What if I leave all my stuff to Rhys?", she asked.

Jack smirked, "We'll stash him away, too."

Winnie opened the garage door to the storage unit and the team got their torches ready.

"Tread carefully, people", Jack warned them, "With respect. This is the life of Suzie Costello."

"That's all we are, in the end", Tosh commented, shining her torch into a box, "A pile of boxes."

"Is her father still alive?", Gwen asked, turning to the team with a framed photograph in hand.

"Don't know", Tosh shrugged and the others gave similar gestures,

"But you must've looked him up to tell him his daughter was dead", Gwen suggested.

"When Suzie left Torchwood, she was on the run", Tosh explained, "She wiped all her records. I couldn't retrieve her files. She was good at computers. Huh. She was good at everything."

"She was good at murder, too", Owen joked, "Laugh a minute, that was Suzie."

Winnie discovered some books and picked up one of them. Gwen was behind her suddenly and asked, "What's that?"

"A book", Winnie smiled halfheartedly, "Emily Dickinson. Poet. Phenomenal kisser."

"What?"

"What?", she distorted her face into an uncomfortable grimace and put the book away. She and the Doctor had visited Emily Dickinson once as Rose was sleeping before they had met Jack. She didn't know her poetry back then. The name, yeah. But the writing? Never came up. The Doctor had gotten so jealous. It had made her smile back then, now it made her sad, reminiscent.