Truely, this Torchwood deal is getting a bit out of hand :D. Owen is probably my favorite character (insufferable git that he is) because all the doctors I do know (and thinking about it I know quite a few for someone who hasn't so much as broken a bone) act just like him. Or he acts just like them. It breaks my heart knowing that he dies :( This was written between his initial death and Gwen's wedding. It takes place in a moment of stillness and rest after he returns to work, but before the actual wedding.
My name is Dr. Owen Harper and this is my life.
A life that is full of action... and violence... and work, wonder. Secrets, sex... and love and heartbreak... and death. My death. The death I survived.
"I've built an entire life out of knowing things,"
The pterodactyl cocked it's head and squawked back at Owen.
"Ye bloody git, you don't know anything above shitting on my worktable," Owen patted Myfanwy's beak and smiled when it began a type of purr.
"An entire life based upon knowing what dosage to give what person for what illness, and when to give up on resuscitating a stopped heart. I know the chemical make up of every bodily chemical and I know the stages of every known disease. I know what to do when Torchwood freaks out, and I know what to do when the Rift freaks out. I know how to program a computer," He leaned over and gave Myfanwy another biscuit, "And I can make fantastic drinks."
"You're not one to wax so philosophical Owen," Harkness hauled himself over the edge of the catwalk to lounge next to his medical doctor.
"Like you're one to care about philosophy either Jack," Owen glared halfheartedly at his Captain.
"Well, try me? Who's more likely to understand this," a generic wave of the hand, "Than me?"
"How about that doctor you keep talking about?"
Owen watched as Jack froze for a moment. The idiotic playboy grin slips completely from his face to be replaced with a look of horrible longing and sadness.
"You're Torchwood's doctor," He hedges.
Leaning farther over the edge to watch as Myfanwy takes flight Owen snorts, "I may be a doctor, but I'm not the doctor. Least not to you. Jack, I'm dead. Don't you owe me some transparency? I," His voice cracked much to his embarrassment, and he couldn't go on.
"My Doctor doesn't know much about… well, the things you know about," Jack's voice was quiet, "He's a traveler. He knows much more than me, but I swear to you, if you two had to take a medical exam, you would win before he could figure out the "name" space,"
"That… shouldn't make me so pleased,"
"Had a feeling it would though,"
"Why'd you do it Jack?"
The silence wasn't uncomfortable this time. Owen knew Jack was deciding which way to answer the query.
"I've never been good with resisting something bad for me," Jack steepled his fingers and breathed out heavily, "And this Doctor is a terrible thing for me.
"You however are a different thing entirely. You may be bad, but you're a better bad. We need you here, for as ever long as we have you,"
Owen knew his breath, if he had any, would have just caught in his throat.
"So… it wasn't just for the code?"
"Owen… that damned lock-thing Tosh carries around like a child would have opened the fucking door you idiot,"
Owen stared, anger and happiness screaming through his mind like a cat and dogs trying to kill each other. Of course they have the stupid lockpick!
"I…" he began to sob, body wracking but no tears coming. It was stupid, really, he never cried much alive as he tried to dead.
And Jack stayed there for him.
Owen figured he could try to stay for them, too.