A/N: When I re-watched Reset and saw the way Gwen just sort of stared down at Owen and everything that was going on, I wondered what she was going through, so this popped up. Warning: it's quite sad.

Gwen stared, she couldn't cry. She just stared at Owen, covered in blood. His blood. Saw Tosh crying. Watched silently as Jack and Martha worked on Owen, trying to revive him. She doesn't even know how she got into the SUV. She assumes Jack or Ianto assisted her. Owen's in the boot, inside a bodybag. Gwen stares straight ahead. They arrive back at the hub, and Gwen silently gets out of the vehicle, walking ahead of everyone else.

She's inside now. Someone puts a cup of coffee in her hands. She takes a sip of the warm liquid and immediately puts it down. How can she be drinking coffee at a time like this? She peers down into the autopsy room. Watches as Jack removes Owen's bloody clothing, emptying Owen's pockets into the plastic bag provided by Ianto. She can see the wound now. A huge, gaping hole right in the middle of his chest. Right where his heart was.

She shivers and looks across the hub. She can see Owen's desk from her desk and she slowly gets up and walks over to it. His leather jacket slung over the back of the chair just the way he left it, the post-it notes stuck to his computer reminding him of things he had to do. She picked up his jacket and inhaled the scent that was unique to Owen. The scent of her lover. The scent she slowly had fallen in love with.

Ianto watches Gwen out of the corner of his eyes. He doesn't want to go over to her, but he wants to make sure she's okay. He watches her as she touches everything on Owen's desk, touches the last things he touched. Her fingers lightly graze over the keyboard, trying to feel where his fingers last were. A cup of coffee sits on his desk, now stone cold and possibly stale, but this doesn't stop Gwen from picking it up and taking a sip. Anything, Ianto realized, to keep her connected to Owen. Ianto makes a note of this and vows to bring her her coffee tomorrow in Owen's mug.

Jack turns his head to see what's distracting Ianto from helping him catalog Owen's personal belongings and sees Gwen. Gwen still hadn't cried, hadn't spoken. He's been watching her go through the motions of the end of the workday. He thinks that now that she's back she'll break down. But she doesn't.

Toshiko is still sobbing, though she doesn't know why. She and Owen never got to go on that date of theirs, so maybe that was why. She knew she had feelings for him, but she knew she was nothing to him. Tosh knew Owen still had feelings for Gwen, knew they still shagged. Had shagged, she mentally corrected herself. She glanced at Gwen and wondered why she wasn't crying, too. Tosh thought perhaps the two of them could comfort each other. The two girls who loved the dead man. How many other women had Owen loved?

Gwen wrapped herself in Owen's jacket. She felt so cold. Hands in his pockets, she felt around for anything - something - that belonged to Owen. She felt the cool metal of his keychain in the one pocket and wondered if he'd get mad at her if she took his car out for a spin. He always complained that when she drove he wound up with the gear shift in his crotch the next time he went out. Then she realized he couldn't get mad at her...he was dead. Gone. Never was going to tease her about being a female driver again.

Gwen got up and walked over to the door, pressing the sequence of buttons that would get her up to the tourist shop. Ianto followed her with his eyes, and motioned to Jack as if to ask "should I follow her?" Jack shook his head and pointed to the CCTV monitor, where they watched Gwen get into Owen's posh car, adjust the seat, open up the roof, and drive off.

"Sir?" Ianto questioned.

"Leave it. She'll be fine. She just needs to grieve."

Gwen drove straight to Owen's flat and parked his car right in his spot, making sure she was far enough away from the yellow post as to not muck up his car. He'd be right pissed at her if there was so much as a smidge of yellow...she stopped that thought. She let herself in and managed to nod at the doorman before heading into the lift and riding it up to Owen's flat. She let herself in and kicked off her shoes, half expecting Owen to pop his head out from the kitchen or the lounge telling her to help herself to a beer.

He didn't come. Gwen made her way to the bedroom. The bed hadn't been made since the day before, when she was over. She slipped out of her jeans and got under the covers, curling his jacket around her. Only then, did she allow herself to cry.