m-findlow.livejournal.com

Title: Voice of reason
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Owen, Ianto, Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,020 words
Content notes: Spoilers for Cyberwoman
Author notes: Written for Challenge 146 - Voice
Summary: Owen is forced to be the voice of reason in a difficult situation

'I want every last piece in this room burned and completely destroyed,' Jack commanded them firmly, before stalking off.

Owen noticed that it wasn't the angry, petulant kind of departure, but rather the cold, uncaring sort.

He didn't like being bossed around, but neither did he want to be any sort of leader. Now he was left to be the voice of reason to three people who were not in any sort of fit state to listen to anything he had to say.

'Gwen, go get the mylar crates from upstairs. Tosh, fire up the incinerator. It's going to take hours to get it up to sufficient heat for this lot.'

'I don't understand,' Gwen began.

'Just do whatever the hell Tosh tells you to do,' Owen barked. He didn't have time for molly coddling her. She took the abrupt response and quickly departed, secretly glad to be able to leave the room.

He turned from watching her retreating figure down the hallway and back to his remaining charge, sighing heavily. This was not going to be fun.

The young man was kneeling on the floor in a pool of blood, the normally fastidious persona oblivious to it, and sobbing without making a sound. That was when Owen realised how eerily quiet the room was, the only sound being the occasional sparking of the conversion unit.

Stupid bastard had nearly gotten them all bloody killed. He didn't want to feel sorry for him. The hippocratic oath was a bitch sometimes.

He gave it a few more moments before walking over and putting a hand on his shoulder.

'Get up, mate.' Even 'mate' was stretching the friendship at this point. It was more about what he did, than it was about what he said.

At first there was no reaction. Owen didn't spare the body in front of him a look. To his mind it wasn't human, so there was no sense in grieving over its loss, unlike the other poor girl who'd gotten caught up in this mess, and now lay there riddled with bullets, including his own. If anything made him feel sick, that was it.

That deranged robot had sliced open her head and pulled out her brains. Who knew where it would have ended. And if she hadn't found the girl first, it was likely the man in front of him would have been her intended target, and it would be his body lying there pumped full of lead. Stupid, lucky git.

'Get up.' This time broaching no argument, Owen wrapped a hand under his shoulder, prepared to pull him up if necessary, but found only limp, compliance, with no resistance at all. That wasn't good. Doctor mode set in, warning his brain that the change in demeanor was the onset of shock. He needed to act fast. Removing him from the immediate scene was a priority.

Owen lead the detached figured away through the darkened corridors, finally guiding him to the bathroom.

'Hands,' he instructed, pulling them forward under the tap, and letting the water run red with blood as it rinsed away from the pale skin underneath. He scrubbed them with soap whilst their owner stood idly off in another world. He tried to distract his own thoughts, but found them wandering to memories of Katie. Now wasn't the time to try and sympathise with Ianto's loss. He wanted to be angry at the man for all the lies and the deception that had put them in so much danger. He didn't do that either. Doctors were trained not to let their emotions get in the way of treating patients.

He struggled to remove the blood soaked clothing and replace it with clean, unsullied clothes. The tall,  lanky frame of his patient did little to help, and he only noticed now just how unnaturally thin he'd become. A doctor should have noticed these things. It irked him in a professional capacity.

Finally, he managed to drag Ianto up to the main part of the hub, still a scene of carnage with equipment strewn everywhere from their earlier altercations up here. Still, it would have to do.

He perched the young man on the edge of the sofa, telling him to stay put. Firm instructions seemed to be the only thing he was receptive to. He returned with a glass of water and a tablet in hand, proffering both.

'Aspirin,' he stated, watching as it was duly ingested, hand unexpectedly unwavering wrapped around the glass.

'Just relax,' came the next instruction, and he watched as eyelids drooped, and the head slowly dipped forward.

Owen was gently guiding Ianto's unconscious form into a lying position on the sofa when Jack reappeared.

'What have you done?'

'Sedative. And a strong one at that. He shouldn't be left alone, and you'd have a hell of a job trying to explain to the NHS why he should be hospitalised.'

'He's a traitor.' The way Jack said it made him feel ice cold right in the pit of his stomach. He put on his most forceful doctor's tone. Jack didn't get to speak to him like that in this situation. Patient welfare always came first.

'He's a kid. One that just lost his girlfriend.'

'Who nearly killed us all and threatened to destroy the whole world,' Jack added fiercely.

Owen didn't reply. He knew he was way out of his depth now. His role as their doctor only gave him so much sway. There was no reasoning with Jack the way he was. Ianto's fate now rested in Jack's hands.

'What happens next is up to you,' Owen said, shrugging on his jacket, 'but you've only got until he wakes up to decide.'

He walked away towards the door. He'd seen the sorts of things Jack was capable of. Ianto may not have done the right thing, but he probably didn't deserve torture either.

'If you decide to end things,' he paused for a second, not wanting to voice the thoughts in his head, and sparing one final look at the sleeping figure, 'perhaps it's best he doesn't wake up.'