Disoriented Cosmos {A Torchwood Story} [COMPLETED]

17. The First Time I Found Out A Half-Naked Man Would Fight For Us

I'm woken up in the middle of the night by my phone blaring tinnily, and as I check the caller ID I roll to my side with a groan and answer the call. "Amber, what did he do? I'm not falling for the bullshit, just tell me what he did and I'll help."

"I swear it wasn't his fault," the woman on the other end insists in an almost indistinguishable wailing tone, "I kept moaning on and on about the dishes, the damn dishes - it's so stupid, so trivial. I deserved it. I'm just calling so you wouldn't report him because it's my fault; it always is, because I antagonize him-"

In a flash I've gotten up from the sofa and started to pull on my Doc Martens and long coat, all the while talking to poor Amber: "Don't blame yourself for his abuse; that's what he wants you to think so he doesn't have to face the responsibility of his decisions. I'm coming round."

"No, Lin, please don't," she attempts to bargain, using the nickname she gave me when we went to the bird park and the linnets flocked around me, but I don't heed her pleas because Owen opens the door to my old bedroom, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and wearing only his boxers. Hmm, wasn't expecting to see that so early in our roommate bonding days.

"Who's that?" my coworker asks, sounding like a grumpy child, and I cover the phone with my hand as I pick up my keys and whisper to him, "My friend Amber is living with her abusive husband Adam and I need to go to her. Can you call the police and come with me? I need to keep her on the line so she thinks I'm not calling them."

At the mention of abuse Owen blinks out of his sleepiness and hurries to get his phone from our room, and I open the door and put my ear back to the phone. Amber is still crying: "-it's just... I don't want to cause any trouble, otherwise he's gonna come back for me, and he's gonna do something else-"

"Amber, please don't think that way," I say, watching Owen snatch the first aid kit he keeps on the coffee table and go out ahead of me to the car in just his jacket and pants, not bothering about actual layers, me following and whispering Amber's address to him in quick breaths. "There is no reason for anyone to treat anybody like he treats you, I swear."

"Then why does he do it?" she sobs on the other side, and right before we get into the car I pause and think of all the scumbag aliens I've seen in the past few months.

"...because some people love the power."

Owen pulls me roughly into the passenger seat and starts up the car, talking quietly but rushed into his own phone. On mine I keep talking to Amber, reassuring her by telling her about trivial things such as the coffee I had today and how my boss (whom she still doesn't know is the boss of an alien organisation and whatnot) still can't work the coffee machine, and how much he wants an employee who can finally make a decent cup of jo.

Cowering in what I can only assume is the corner of her wardrobe, I hear my only friend outside of Torchwood pray hopelessly, and hope that tonight is finally the night I can put her husband behind any kind of bars, so she can be free.

For the next fifteen minutes Owen drives after putting the phone down as soon as the cops knew where Amber lives, and I grip his hand without thinking as I try to talk into the phone with a steady and calming voice. He doesn't seem to notice or mind, just keeps driving as fast as the speed limit lets him. I have to admit, despite being a mysterious unwavering wall of personality, Owen Harper does not mess around when it comes to people's safety and wellbeing. I don't question it the whole drive, instead letting him revel in the passionate anger coming off him in waves.

When we finally do get to Amber's house, the first thing we have to do is fight through the cops to demand I see my best friend. She's crying in the arms of an officer as another two try to restrain Adam, the angry man cursing out his wife for being a traitor and undeserving of love.