Day 23: 'Tis The Season
Title: 'Tis The Season
Author: dr_is_in
Prompt: The Grinch
Rating: PG
Characters: Owen, Team, OC's
Summary: Christmas has always been a bad time for Owen. (Thank you to laligin for her beta-fu skills).
Owen stopped in his ascent from the medical bay and stared at his computer station in horror. It looked like a Christmas tree had exploded and covered it in tinsel and lights.
"Bloody hell! No, just... no..." Striding forward purposefully, he began to pull the decorations down roughly, tinsel ripping and scattering across the surface of his desk. He noticed for the first time that the entire hub had decorations scattered here and there and groaned in disgust.
"Owen!" Tosh’s voice was upset as she exited Jack’s office and noticed what Owen had done. "Stop it! Why did you do that?" She started gathering up the tattered remnants of the decorations from Owen’s desk, shooting a disappointed glare in his direction.
"I don’t want that junk covering my workstation. This is a work place, not a bleeding Christmas window display!"
"What is your problem? It’s just some decorations! Where is your Christmas spirit?"
"Bah humbug," he snarked back.
"Seriously, what is your problem? I know you can be a bastard most of the time, but even this tops your usual behavior. Don’t you like Christmas?" Tosh asked, with a hurt expression.
Owen gave an exasperated sigh. "No, Tosh, I do not like Christmas. Never have, never will. It’s always been either a bad day or just another day to me. So give it a rest, I don’t want to hear about how wonderful the holiday season is."
"You’re such a grinch, Owen."
Tosh walked away from him, hurt and disappointment on her face, as he dropped into his desk chair. He muttered under his breath about bleeding hearts and wastes of time and money. Christmas was a day of painful memories for him, and the less he had to do with it, the better.
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December 12, 1985
The tip of Owen’s tongue poked from between his lips as he wrote, concentration etched on his face and pencil gripped tightly in his thin little fingers as he very carefully wrote the words of his letter. He wanted it to be perfect so Santa would bring him what he asked for. The front door of the flat banging open made him jump, the tip of the pencil skittering across the page, making a jagged line on the paper. Owen’s face crumpled with frustration as he turned the pencil and vigorously scrubbed at the mark with the eraser. He could hear his mum banging around in the kitchen, putting away the groceries she’d come home with, as he quickly finished his letter.
Getting down from his chair at the table, letter clutched nervously in his hand, he moved slowly towards the kitchen doorway and peered into the room cautiously.
"Mum?"
"What?" his mother bit out at him, rounding on him with an annoyed expression when he didn’t answer immediately. "Well, what is it? Speak up, I haven’t got all day!"
"My letter...," he started to say, cowering under her angry look and holding it out hesitantly.
She snatched it roughly out of his hand, glancing at it dismissively. "Your letter?"
"My letter to Santa, it’s finished. I wanted to know if I could mail it out..."
Her mocking laughter brought tears to his eyes. "You little idiot, grow up! You’re too old to believe Santa is still real."
"Santa is too real!" he said defiantly, sniffling back his tears.
His mother crouched down and looked him directly in the eyes, a mocking smile on her lips. "No, there is NO Santa, and the sooner you grow up and stop believing in fairy tales, the better. There is no magical man who delivers gifts to all the good little kiddies on Christmas. And even if there was, he wouldn’t be bringing anything to a mistake like you. Now quit wasting my time." With that, she tore his letter to pieces before storming out of the kitchen, dropping the pieces on the floor as she exited.
Tears streaked down his cheeks as he looked the ruins of his letter, his mother’s mocking words ringing in his ears.
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December 20, 1997
"Hey, Harper, wait up!"
Owen looked up as he trudged back towards the dorms, books from the library tucked under his arm, as his roommate, Chris, caught up with him. "Yeah?"
"Wanted to let you know I was leaving, heading home for the holiday break. When are you heading out?"
"Umm, soon probably," he muttered, not meeting his friend’s eyes as he lied.
Chris eyed him suspiciously. "You know, the offer to come home with me for Christmas still stands, if you want. I know you and your mum don’t get along well..."
"Everything is just fine, thank you very much."
"You are going home, aren’t you? You’re not going to stay at the dorms while everyone else is gone, are you?"
"What I do is none of your concern. Don’t you have a bus to catch?"
"Look, man, seriously... you’re welcome at my parents’ house. It sucks to think that you would be here by yourself over the holidays."
"And what makes you think that I’m not going home?" Owen asked him angrily.
Chris looked ashamed for a moment. "I didn’t mean to read it, but it was lying on the floor in the room..."
"What was lying on the floor of the room?" Owen paled as he cut him off.
"The letter from your mum. Honestly, Owen, I just found it and read it before I realized what it was. But she was a right bitch in that letter, telling you not to bother coming home for the holidays."
"You had no right to read that!" Owen dropped his books, hands balling into fists.
Chris held up his hands in a defensive gesture as he stepped back. "Like I said, I didn’t mean to find and read it. Owen, you’re my best mate, and I hate to see you staying here by yourself for Christmas. I mean it, come home with me and spend it with my family."
Angry pride swelled inside him. "I don’t need your pity or charity," he ground out between clenched teeth as he gathered up his fallen books and stalked away.
"Owen, wait!" Chris chased after him. "It’s not pity..."
"Just leave it!" Owen shouted angrily.
Chris watched sadly as Owen walked away and wished there was something he could do to make him change his mind.
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December 23, 2004
Owen sat on a chair in the barren apartment, surrounded by boxes as the gloom of the late afternoon filled the room. He looked around at the remnants of his life... their life... all neatly packed up and categorized and labeled. Ready to be moved or filed away.
Pulling the nearest box closer to himself, he opened it back up and picked up the silver frame on top, staring at the photo in it. His heart broke just a little bit further as his fingers traced the lines of her face in the photo from Christmas last year.
Katie...
She was gone, torn from him, he’d never see her again.
Sometimes he wondered if it was even worth keeping going.
He tossed the frame back into the box and got up, striding quickly from the apartment. He spent the rest of the holiday drunk in an attempt to just forget her and keep the pain at bay.
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December 24, 2006
He slammed the door of the flat closed behind him and stood there in the silence for a few moments. She was gone, had left him, he wasn’t enough for her to stay. Closing his eyes, be breathed deeply in an effort to keep his emotions in check. A sob tore from his throat as the lingering scent of Diane’s perfume reached him and he dropped to his knees in the middle of his living room.
It was Christmas and he was alone once again.
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Present Day
Owen started in surprise as a hand reached over his shoulder and dropped a gift on to his desk. He looked up to see Jack standing behind him. "What’s this for?"
"It’s a Chrismas present. You could have figured that out, being a genius," Jack teased him.
"What is it with everyone and Christmas around here? It’s just another bloody day, except for people acting stupid and wasting money on decorations and presents."
Jack sighed sadly. "I know the holiday has always been rough for you, Owen..."
"Exactly, and that is why I just want to be left alone and not bothered. The quicker it’s over with, with minimal annoyance to me, the better. It always ends up with me being alone, so I’d rather not participate at all."
"But you’re not alone, Owen. Take a look." Jack motioned over towards where Ianto, Tosh, and Gwen were gathered on the couch, laughing as they exchanged presents. "You have a family now... all of us."
Jack clapped him on the shoulder and walked back to rejoin the others as Owen sat and thought for a moment. Looking back towards the others, Tosh caught his eye and gave him a tentative smile, motioning for him to come join them. He picked up the gift on his desk, turning it over in his hands contemplatively. Maybe Jack was right and things would be better this year. Getting up, he moved to join the rest of them, his heart swelling as Tosh smiled at him and drew him into the celebration.
Author: dr_is_in
Prompt: The Grinch
Rating: PG
Characters: Owen, Team, OC's
Summary: Christmas has always been a bad time for Owen. (Thank you to laligin for her beta-fu skills).
Owen stopped in his ascent from the medical bay and stared at his computer station in horror. It looked like a Christmas tree had exploded and covered it in tinsel and lights.
"Bloody hell! No, just... no..." Striding forward purposefully, he began to pull the decorations down roughly, tinsel ripping and scattering across the surface of his desk. He noticed for the first time that the entire hub had decorations scattered here and there and groaned in disgust.
"Owen!" Tosh’s voice was upset as she exited Jack’s office and noticed what Owen had done. "Stop it! Why did you do that?" She started gathering up the tattered remnants of the decorations from Owen’s desk, shooting a disappointed glare in his direction.
"I don’t want that junk covering my workstation. This is a work place, not a bleeding Christmas window display!"
"What is your problem? It’s just some decorations! Where is your Christmas spirit?"
"Bah humbug," he snarked back.
"Seriously, what is your problem? I know you can be a bastard most of the time, but even this tops your usual behavior. Don’t you like Christmas?" Tosh asked, with a hurt expression.
Owen gave an exasperated sigh. "No, Tosh, I do not like Christmas. Never have, never will. It’s always been either a bad day or just another day to me. So give it a rest, I don’t want to hear about how wonderful the holiday season is."
"You’re such a grinch, Owen."
Tosh walked away from him, hurt and disappointment on her face, as he dropped into his desk chair. He muttered under his breath about bleeding hearts and wastes of time and money. Christmas was a day of painful memories for him, and the less he had to do with it, the better.
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December 12, 1985
The tip of Owen’s tongue poked from between his lips as he wrote, concentration etched on his face and pencil gripped tightly in his thin little fingers as he very carefully wrote the words of his letter. He wanted it to be perfect so Santa would bring him what he asked for. The front door of the flat banging open made him jump, the tip of the pencil skittering across the page, making a jagged line on the paper. Owen’s face crumpled with frustration as he turned the pencil and vigorously scrubbed at the mark with the eraser. He could hear his mum banging around in the kitchen, putting away the groceries she’d come home with, as he quickly finished his letter.
Getting down from his chair at the table, letter clutched nervously in his hand, he moved slowly towards the kitchen doorway and peered into the room cautiously.
"Mum?"
"What?" his mother bit out at him, rounding on him with an annoyed expression when he didn’t answer immediately. "Well, what is it? Speak up, I haven’t got all day!"
"My letter...," he started to say, cowering under her angry look and holding it out hesitantly.
She snatched it roughly out of his hand, glancing at it dismissively. "Your letter?"
"My letter to Santa, it’s finished. I wanted to know if I could mail it out..."
Her mocking laughter brought tears to his eyes. "You little idiot, grow up! You’re too old to believe Santa is still real."
"Santa is too real!" he said defiantly, sniffling back his tears.
His mother crouched down and looked him directly in the eyes, a mocking smile on her lips. "No, there is NO Santa, and the sooner you grow up and stop believing in fairy tales, the better. There is no magical man who delivers gifts to all the good little kiddies on Christmas. And even if there was, he wouldn’t be bringing anything to a mistake like you. Now quit wasting my time." With that, she tore his letter to pieces before storming out of the kitchen, dropping the pieces on the floor as she exited.
Tears streaked down his cheeks as he looked the ruins of his letter, his mother’s mocking words ringing in his ears.
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December 20, 1997
"Hey, Harper, wait up!"
Owen looked up as he trudged back towards the dorms, books from the library tucked under his arm, as his roommate, Chris, caught up with him. "Yeah?"
"Wanted to let you know I was leaving, heading home for the holiday break. When are you heading out?"
"Umm, soon probably," he muttered, not meeting his friend’s eyes as he lied.
Chris eyed him suspiciously. "You know, the offer to come home with me for Christmas still stands, if you want. I know you and your mum don’t get along well..."
"Everything is just fine, thank you very much."
"You are going home, aren’t you? You’re not going to stay at the dorms while everyone else is gone, are you?"
"What I do is none of your concern. Don’t you have a bus to catch?"
"Look, man, seriously... you’re welcome at my parents’ house. It sucks to think that you would be here by yourself over the holidays."
"And what makes you think that I’m not going home?" Owen asked him angrily.
Chris looked ashamed for a moment. "I didn’t mean to read it, but it was lying on the floor in the room..."
"What was lying on the floor of the room?" Owen paled as he cut him off.
"The letter from your mum. Honestly, Owen, I just found it and read it before I realized what it was. But she was a right bitch in that letter, telling you not to bother coming home for the holidays."
"You had no right to read that!" Owen dropped his books, hands balling into fists.
Chris held up his hands in a defensive gesture as he stepped back. "Like I said, I didn’t mean to find and read it. Owen, you’re my best mate, and I hate to see you staying here by yourself for Christmas. I mean it, come home with me and spend it with my family."
Angry pride swelled inside him. "I don’t need your pity or charity," he ground out between clenched teeth as he gathered up his fallen books and stalked away.
"Owen, wait!" Chris chased after him. "It’s not pity..."
"Just leave it!" Owen shouted angrily.
Chris watched sadly as Owen walked away and wished there was something he could do to make him change his mind.
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December 23, 2004
Owen sat on a chair in the barren apartment, surrounded by boxes as the gloom of the late afternoon filled the room. He looked around at the remnants of his life... their life... all neatly packed up and categorized and labeled. Ready to be moved or filed away.
Pulling the nearest box closer to himself, he opened it back up and picked up the silver frame on top, staring at the photo in it. His heart broke just a little bit further as his fingers traced the lines of her face in the photo from Christmas last year.
Katie...
She was gone, torn from him, he’d never see her again.
Sometimes he wondered if it was even worth keeping going.
He tossed the frame back into the box and got up, striding quickly from the apartment. He spent the rest of the holiday drunk in an attempt to just forget her and keep the pain at bay.
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December 24, 2006
He slammed the door of the flat closed behind him and stood there in the silence for a few moments. She was gone, had left him, he wasn’t enough for her to stay. Closing his eyes, be breathed deeply in an effort to keep his emotions in check. A sob tore from his throat as the lingering scent of Diane’s perfume reached him and he dropped to his knees in the middle of his living room.
It was Christmas and he was alone once again.
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Present Day
Owen started in surprise as a hand reached over his shoulder and dropped a gift on to his desk. He looked up to see Jack standing behind him. "What’s this for?"
"It’s a Chrismas present. You could have figured that out, being a genius," Jack teased him.
"What is it with everyone and Christmas around here? It’s just another bloody day, except for people acting stupid and wasting money on decorations and presents."
Jack sighed sadly. "I know the holiday has always been rough for you, Owen..."
"Exactly, and that is why I just want to be left alone and not bothered. The quicker it’s over with, with minimal annoyance to me, the better. It always ends up with me being alone, so I’d rather not participate at all."
"But you’re not alone, Owen. Take a look." Jack motioned over towards where Ianto, Tosh, and Gwen were gathered on the couch, laughing as they exchanged presents. "You have a family now... all of us."
Jack clapped him on the shoulder and walked back to rejoin the others as Owen sat and thought for a moment. Looking back towards the others, Tosh caught his eye and gave him a tentative smile, motioning for him to come join them. He picked up the gift on his desk, turning it over in his hands contemplatively. Maybe Jack was right and things would be better this year. Getting up, he moved to join the rest of them, his heart swelling as Tosh smiled at him and drew him into the celebration.