Fic (Torchwood): This is your life
Title: This is your life
Fandom: Torchwood
Author: cookielaura
Characters: Owen/Katie, Ianto
Rating/warnings: PG, grief
Wordcount: 457
Summary/Notes: Written for this prompt on comment-fic by samparker: Owen Harper/Katie Russell, he sees a glimpse of an alternate world where they're happy together.
'No,' Owen says. No, he doesn't want to go to the pub, he doesn't want to play pool, he doesn't want to stick around after work for a game of basketball. These days, he doesn't want to do anything but watch his new favourite show.
He thanks all available gods that he worked out what the crystal did before logging it into evidence, before mentioning it to the others. He's broken Jack's cardinal rule about taking artefacts out of the lab, he knows the consequences, and he couldn't care less.
It's been three weeks now, and every night is the same. A beer in his hand, the lights off, tears streaking slowly down his face as the crystal projects his life onto his living room wall. The life he should have had. He sees Katie, her eyes clear and bright, unmarred by some sick parasite, her smile soft and genuine. He sees their home, their bed, their dog, their child - a five year old girl who looks like Katie and screws her face up like Owen when she's cross. She got a miniature doctor's uniform for her last birthday, and she only takes it off for school uniform, baths and pyjamas.
And he sees himself, and he isn't broken. He paints walls and puts up shelves and walks the dog and reads bedtime stories and - and he isn't broken.
Everything is better there. His life here is receding, falling away, and it doesn’t matter. Why should it?
The fourth week, he drags himself into work. Leaves as soon as he can. Gets home, opens the fridge for a beer, sits down, reaches for the crystal, and -
it’s not there.
He tears his flat apart. Rips into the mattress even, though there is no way it could be there. When there is carnage spread over every surface, and there is nowhere left to look, he gets up and goes to the Hub, murder in his heart. Jack must have found out somehow, and more than likely he’s going to have a punishment in mind, maybe even a Retcon pill in his hand, but Owen doesn’t think twice. Retcon would be a blessing right now.
He doesn’t find Jack at the Hub. He find Ianto, in the archives, filing away the crystal. Filing it under Not To Be Used.
Slowly, the anger seeps out of Owen, the panic recedes, and he is only empty. And relieved.
‘Does Jack know?’ he asks, voice rough.
‘No,’ says Ianto. He pushes the drawer shut. ‘Do we need to talk about this?’
Owen thinks of that bright-eyed Katie, that fixer-upper home, that curly-haired dog and that small blonde girl. None of them are his.
‘No,’ he says. And then, ‘Thank you.’
Fandom: Torchwood
Author: cookielaura
Characters: Owen/Katie, Ianto
Rating/warnings: PG, grief
Wordcount: 457
Summary/Notes: Written for this prompt on comment-fic by samparker: Owen Harper/Katie Russell, he sees a glimpse of an alternate world where they're happy together.
'No,' Owen says. No, he doesn't want to go to the pub, he doesn't want to play pool, he doesn't want to stick around after work for a game of basketball. These days, he doesn't want to do anything but watch his new favourite show.
He thanks all available gods that he worked out what the crystal did before logging it into evidence, before mentioning it to the others. He's broken Jack's cardinal rule about taking artefacts out of the lab, he knows the consequences, and he couldn't care less.
It's been three weeks now, and every night is the same. A beer in his hand, the lights off, tears streaking slowly down his face as the crystal projects his life onto his living room wall. The life he should have had. He sees Katie, her eyes clear and bright, unmarred by some sick parasite, her smile soft and genuine. He sees their home, their bed, their dog, their child - a five year old girl who looks like Katie and screws her face up like Owen when she's cross. She got a miniature doctor's uniform for her last birthday, and she only takes it off for school uniform, baths and pyjamas.
And he sees himself, and he isn't broken. He paints walls and puts up shelves and walks the dog and reads bedtime stories and - and he isn't broken.
Everything is better there. His life here is receding, falling away, and it doesn’t matter. Why should it?
The fourth week, he drags himself into work. Leaves as soon as he can. Gets home, opens the fridge for a beer, sits down, reaches for the crystal, and -
it’s not there.
He tears his flat apart. Rips into the mattress even, though there is no way it could be there. When there is carnage spread over every surface, and there is nowhere left to look, he gets up and goes to the Hub, murder in his heart. Jack must have found out somehow, and more than likely he’s going to have a punishment in mind, maybe even a Retcon pill in his hand, but Owen doesn’t think twice. Retcon would be a blessing right now.
He doesn’t find Jack at the Hub. He find Ianto, in the archives, filing away the crystal. Filing it under Not To Be Used.
Slowly, the anger seeps out of Owen, the panic recedes, and he is only empty. And relieved.
‘Does Jack know?’ he asks, voice rough.
‘No,’ says Ianto. He pushes the drawer shut. ‘Do we need to talk about this?’
Owen thinks of that bright-eyed Katie, that fixer-upper home, that curly-haired dog and that small blonde girl. None of them are his.
‘No,’ he says. And then, ‘Thank you.’