afternoon of 6/4
Do you remember what happened? she tells him, and he does, every mad second of it. They tried to tell you that you were insane. They tried to tell you that nothing happened. That it was all in your head.
She tells him, They were right.
What did you see?
Jack in the corridor, telling him it was already too late. A room full of corpses and Katie and that thing in her brain. And nothing on the security footage, no Jack, no alien. Nothing.
Jack set it all up. He fed you retcon and the lies, and you believed him. But it wasn't real.
And it's insane, but so is what he's believed all these years. Katie sitting across from him in an empty cafe in Penarth is impossible, but he sees impossible things every day. If his time at Torchwood taught him one thing it was to trust what he can see, what he can hold in his hand, take apart.
"You were dead."
You saw it with your own eyes. There was no one on the security footage. No Jack Harkness. No alien.
"But you were still dead. I buried you."
She ducks her head and closes her hand around his. I know, and I'm sorry. There was nothing I could do. They made you see only what they wanted you to see.
Those days and weeks were a blur of nothing making sense and letting others guide him through his days, eating when he was told to, dragging himself into the shower whenever his friends insisted it had been too long, nodding as Katie's family handled all the arrangements, and the service over and done before he knew it. He barely remembers what he saw until Jack was beneath him, taking every punch he threw, and apologizing the whole time.
"Who?"
Torchwood. Harkness.
"Why would they do that?" he asks. He knows all too well that they're capable of it.
They had their reasons. There's more going on than Harkness even hints at. He keeps you in the dark so you always have to come to him for answers. It's how they control you. You accept what he tells you, and that's that. But what they showed you, you have to believe me: it wasn't real. Think about it! You knew it wasn't real. The youngest case of early onset Alzheimer's in medical history? Like nothing they'd ever seen before? And Harkness was there the second it all went bad. How could he possibly have known, Owen?
Owen's mind is reeling trying to take it all in, trying to make it all make sense. And yet a part of him is holding Katie's hand in his and remembering the way she would get wound up like this, passionate and talking too fast, and he misses her. Misses her pacing their apartment, gesturing wildly as she went on about some screw up senior house officer making her life hell or the pizza delivery guy who always groused about the tip.
Are you listening to me?
"Yes?"
This is serious, Owen. Harkness has been manipulating you from the start, and now that you're out, you aren't safe anymore.
"What do you mean? How do you know all this?"
Katie leans across the table and says, You think Torchwood is the only secret agency out there? You think Torchwood are the only ones trying to keep the world safe? How do you think I found you? We've been trying to track you down for ages now. We had to warn you.
"Warn me?"
Has anyone ever stopped working for Torchwood and lived to tell about it? You're very tidy, you lot. And Owen, you are a mess that they won't leave alone for much longer. You need to be careful.
She leaves again, just as suddenly as before, with another promise to return when she can, another promise for more answers, and Owen sits, alone and bewildered, in the cafe staring at her untouched cup of coffee until the shop closes.
She tells him, They were right.
What did you see?
Jack in the corridor, telling him it was already too late. A room full of corpses and Katie and that thing in her brain. And nothing on the security footage, no Jack, no alien. Nothing.
Jack set it all up. He fed you retcon and the lies, and you believed him. But it wasn't real.
And it's insane, but so is what he's believed all these years. Katie sitting across from him in an empty cafe in Penarth is impossible, but he sees impossible things every day. If his time at Torchwood taught him one thing it was to trust what he can see, what he can hold in his hand, take apart.
"You were dead."
You saw it with your own eyes. There was no one on the security footage. No Jack Harkness. No alien.
"But you were still dead. I buried you."
She ducks her head and closes her hand around his. I know, and I'm sorry. There was nothing I could do. They made you see only what they wanted you to see.
Those days and weeks were a blur of nothing making sense and letting others guide him through his days, eating when he was told to, dragging himself into the shower whenever his friends insisted it had been too long, nodding as Katie's family handled all the arrangements, and the service over and done before he knew it. He barely remembers what he saw until Jack was beneath him, taking every punch he threw, and apologizing the whole time.
"Who?"
Torchwood. Harkness.
"Why would they do that?" he asks. He knows all too well that they're capable of it.
They had their reasons. There's more going on than Harkness even hints at. He keeps you in the dark so you always have to come to him for answers. It's how they control you. You accept what he tells you, and that's that. But what they showed you, you have to believe me: it wasn't real. Think about it! You knew it wasn't real. The youngest case of early onset Alzheimer's in medical history? Like nothing they'd ever seen before? And Harkness was there the second it all went bad. How could he possibly have known, Owen?
Owen's mind is reeling trying to take it all in, trying to make it all make sense. And yet a part of him is holding Katie's hand in his and remembering the way she would get wound up like this, passionate and talking too fast, and he misses her. Misses her pacing their apartment, gesturing wildly as she went on about some screw up senior house officer making her life hell or the pizza delivery guy who always groused about the tip.
Are you listening to me?
"Yes?"
This is serious, Owen. Harkness has been manipulating you from the start, and now that you're out, you aren't safe anymore.
"What do you mean? How do you know all this?"
Katie leans across the table and says, You think Torchwood is the only secret agency out there? You think Torchwood are the only ones trying to keep the world safe? How do you think I found you? We've been trying to track you down for ages now. We had to warn you.
"Warn me?"
Has anyone ever stopped working for Torchwood and lived to tell about it? You're very tidy, you lot. And Owen, you are a mess that they won't leave alone for much longer. You need to be careful.
She leaves again, just as suddenly as before, with another promise to return when she can, another promise for more answers, and Owen sits, alone and bewildered, in the cafe staring at her untouched cup of coffee until the shop closes.