052 - An Unsent Letter
[The following is found sitting open on Tosh's laptop, by Harper, when he comes to find her all coma'ed out on her sofa.]
Dear Harper,
I want to tell you about somebody I knew at home. Another Harper, as it happens.
His name was Owen.
I worked with him at Torchwood for four years. He was a doctor, the team medic, and to begin with I was...seriously unimpressed with him. There was one time just after he first started when I had to carry out an autopsy in his place, because he was so hungover he couldn't even answer his phone properly. I told him off, I told him Torchwood wasn't the sort of job you could just take time off from - and that wasn't the only time I did it. But he didn't even care. He told me I was being too uptight.
He was loud-mouthed, irresponsible, aggressive...but he was one of us. Sometimes he could be kind, even sweet in some ways, and he made me laugh. Not many men do that. I got used to him and then, over the years, I fell in love with him. I couldn't tell you when it happened, there wasn't some revelatory moment when I realised it, but there came a time when I looked back and I knew I'd loved him for months and months. I could barely remember feeling any other way. But I wouldn't tell him - couldn't. I wouldn't let it get in the way of our work. So we got on with it. He slept with dozens of people, I wasn't really dating as such, even if I'd had time for a social life I can't imagine anybody I would have wanted to go out with.
It couldn't last, of course. I was going mad from not telling him, from not letting him see it, although God knows it must have been obvious to everyone else. I asked him out on a date. He said yes, after a fashion.
Then he died. He was trapped in the face of a disaster and I couldn't stop it. I couldn't pull him away. I did everything I could and it was enough to save the city but it wasn't enough to save him. He died, and then I died too. Minutes later. And when I came here to the Barge, the deal with the Admiral I made wasn't for my life. It was his. I didn't want my life any more.
Owen came to the Barge. For a little while. I'd hoped that it would have been an opportunity to say everything I hadn't been able to, I wanted to be able to fix things between us, but it....it wasn't anything like I'd hoped for. And after Aleera graduated....when I as good as told him what I was prepared to do, for him, he didn't want it.
I had gone through so much to give him this second chance, this...gift, and he didn't even want it.
I've wanted to believe for so long that he was trying to let me off the hook. That he was turning it down so that I could have my own life back instead, but...I knew that wasn't true. Deep down, I always knew. He didn't want to help me, he wasn't being selfless, he just wanted to throw it back in my face. He knew I was responsible for his death, we both knew. And one of the last things he did before he left the Barge to go God only knows where was this hideous, petty act of revenge.
It's taken me a long time to...not work it out, really. It's always been true. But it took me this long to recognise that I was chasing something that was never going to happen for me. I wanted someone who I don't think was even capable of returning my feelings. The one time I told him I loved him, he told me I was lying. As if he could possibly know.
I know this is an awful letter so far. I'm almost finished and all I've done is whinge on about a dead man. This is why I prefer maths. It's so much easier to get to the point with an equation.
The point I want to make here is that I spent almost half a decade chasing after something that was completely futile. And then I met you, and...I admit, I heard warning bells. I thought I was asking for the same mess all over again. You're charming, sexy, flirtatious....and he was too. He could be. But when I was with him, even when he was on his best behaviour he still made me feel inadequate. When he wasn't, he could just crush me with a few words and not even notice.
And you're not that person. I need to clarify - I'm not saying that what I feel for you I feel because you're like Owen, not beyond the most superficial similarities. It's not even because you're not like him. It's because you're you. I don't have to feel guarded or geeky or embarrassed to be myself when I'm with you, and I've never felt that with anybody else, not really. I know this is a line, but I feel like I can be a better person around you. I want to be a better person around you.
I love you, Harper. I love you, and I'm a coward, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was afraid to feel this way again. I'm sorry I drove you away. I'm sorry I was as cold as I was, and that it took me too long to realise that I didn't need to be scared.
I'm sorry I'm never going to send this.
I'm sorry it's too late.
- Toshiko
Dear Harper,
I want to tell you about somebody I knew at home. Another Harper, as it happens.
His name was Owen.
I worked with him at Torchwood for four years. He was a doctor, the team medic, and to begin with I was...seriously unimpressed with him. There was one time just after he first started when I had to carry out an autopsy in his place, because he was so hungover he couldn't even answer his phone properly. I told him off, I told him Torchwood wasn't the sort of job you could just take time off from - and that wasn't the only time I did it. But he didn't even care. He told me I was being too uptight.
He was loud-mouthed, irresponsible, aggressive...but he was one of us. Sometimes he could be kind, even sweet in some ways, and he made me laugh. Not many men do that. I got used to him and then, over the years, I fell in love with him. I couldn't tell you when it happened, there wasn't some revelatory moment when I realised it, but there came a time when I looked back and I knew I'd loved him for months and months. I could barely remember feeling any other way. But I wouldn't tell him - couldn't. I wouldn't let it get in the way of our work. So we got on with it. He slept with dozens of people, I wasn't really dating as such, even if I'd had time for a social life I can't imagine anybody I would have wanted to go out with.
It couldn't last, of course. I was going mad from not telling him, from not letting him see it, although God knows it must have been obvious to everyone else. I asked him out on a date. He said yes, after a fashion.
Then he died. He was trapped in the face of a disaster and I couldn't stop it. I couldn't pull him away. I did everything I could and it was enough to save the city but it wasn't enough to save him. He died, and then I died too. Minutes later. And when I came here to the Barge, the deal with the Admiral I made wasn't for my life. It was his. I didn't want my life any more.
Owen came to the Barge. For a little while. I'd hoped that it would have been an opportunity to say everything I hadn't been able to, I wanted to be able to fix things between us, but it....it wasn't anything like I'd hoped for. And after Aleera graduated....when I as good as told him what I was prepared to do, for him, he didn't want it.
I had gone through so much to give him this second chance, this...gift, and he didn't even want it.
I've wanted to believe for so long that he was trying to let me off the hook. That he was turning it down so that I could have my own life back instead, but...I knew that wasn't true. Deep down, I always knew. He didn't want to help me, he wasn't being selfless, he just wanted to throw it back in my face. He knew I was responsible for his death, we both knew. And one of the last things he did before he left the Barge to go God only knows where was this hideous, petty act of revenge.
It's taken me a long time to...not work it out, really. It's always been true. But it took me this long to recognise that I was chasing something that was never going to happen for me. I wanted someone who I don't think was even capable of returning my feelings. The one time I told him I loved him, he told me I was lying. As if he could possibly know.
I know this is an awful letter so far. I'm almost finished and all I've done is whinge on about a dead man. This is why I prefer maths. It's so much easier to get to the point with an equation.
The point I want to make here is that I spent almost half a decade chasing after something that was completely futile. And then I met you, and...I admit, I heard warning bells. I thought I was asking for the same mess all over again. You're charming, sexy, flirtatious....and he was too. He could be. But when I was with him, even when he was on his best behaviour he still made me feel inadequate. When he wasn't, he could just crush me with a few words and not even notice.
And you're not that person. I need to clarify - I'm not saying that what I feel for you I feel because you're like Owen, not beyond the most superficial similarities. It's not even because you're not like him. It's because you're you. I don't have to feel guarded or geeky or embarrassed to be myself when I'm with you, and I've never felt that with anybody else, not really. I know this is a line, but I feel like I can be a better person around you. I want to be a better person around you.
I love you, Harper. I love you, and I'm a coward, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was afraid to feel this way again. I'm sorry I drove you away. I'm sorry I was as cold as I was, and that it took me too long to realise that I didn't need to be scared.
I'm sorry I'm never going to send this.
I'm sorry it's too late.
- Toshiko