I sat on the cold exam table, watching Owen and Tosh banter.

"Look, Tosh, I just want to have someone else here - you know, in case I need an extra set of hands."

"All right Owen, I said I'll stay. What do you need me to do now?"

"Can you go get me the donor kit from that cupboard behind you?"

"Donor kit?"

"Yeah, it's got the needles and tubing and blood bag and all that."

Wait a second.

"Donor kit? Blood donor kit? Wait, wait, are you going to have to take my blood?"

"Well, considering that your blood type doesn't match anything we've got in our databases, um, yes."

"Is that a problem?" Tosh asked, sounding concerned.

I groaned.

"No. I…"

I shuddered and cringed away.

Tosh came down the stairs, not carrying anything at all.

"Jamie, Owen won't do anything you don't feel comfortable with - you know that."

She glared up at the platform above us, where Owen was now fishing through the cabinet she'd abandoned.

One glance, and I rolled my eyes. "Right. I'll believe that when…"

I stopped. Oops. Too close to the earlier conversation.

Owen pulled out of the cabinet, stepped back and slammed the door.

He went to the door and pulled back on the projector screen and leaned out into the Hub.

"Oi! Teaboy! Have you been messing with my supplies again?"

Faint footsteps, and a indistinct baritone voice, which Owen interrupted.

"Well, it's just that I can't find the bloody… oh, you've got it."

Ianto's voice carried again, louder but still indistinct.

"Bloody rats!"

"I'm sure they're angry he keeps blowing them up" Tosh whispered in an aside to me, suppressing a giggle admirably.

I tried to smile back but couldn't quite get the image of sharp metal piercing my skin, of my involuntary cringing making it worse, of pain and blood running through the tubing made my stomach tighten and crawl.

He was right though - if I was that unique, he'd need a supply of my own blood in case something went wrong.

I felt kind of foolish actually, not realizing it before. It's what Lucy'd needed, after all.

Damn it, why didn't I think of it in the first place?

"Jamie!"

"What!?"

Oh. Owen was back. I hadn't even noticed him come back down. Lost in thought indeed. That was usually Zack's role, not mine.

With an effort I forced my attention back to Owen.

"Right, or left?"

He spoke with exaggerated slowness, as if to a child.

"Owen! She's jet-lagged, not stupid!"

"Tosh, it's…" an enormous yawn interrupted before I could… I don't even remember what I was trying to do anymore.

Owen broke in - maybe having some pity on my confusion.

"Look, you're right handed, right?"

I had to think about it.

"Yeah, I th… yeah. Why?"

"Ok, then give me your left arm."

He took my arm and pulled it out, resting it on… that box hadn't been on the exam table before. How badly had I actually zoned out?

He turned my arm so my hand was facing up, grabbed a pale blue strip of rubber with ragged edges, reached around my upper arm, and…

"OW! What are you… Ow, that's tight!"

Owen rolled his eyes.

"It's supposed to be tight. Make a fist for me."

He began poking and pressing inside my elbow with his fingers.

"Oh yes, that's gorgeous that is"

He squeezed my arm, pushed and flicked the inside twice with his fingers.

"You have got some beautiful veins, this will be a piece of cake."

Then he pulled out the tubing and the needle.

Shiny needle. Pointy needle. It was cut off - not tapering to a point like a sewing needle, it was a tube that was cut off at a steep angle - more like a really sharp knife that happened to be round…

My stomach and throat tightened into the worst gag I'd had in years.

"Tosh!" I begged in between rapid, shaky breaths "Distract me, please!"

She looked concerned and unsure

"Quickly! please! I'm begging you!"

"What do you want me to do?"

She sounded uncertain, even a little afraid. Damn - were panic attacks contagious in this world?

"I don't know!"

Owen had backed the needle off, but it was still there. Sharp and pointy and deadly and a great big black hole in the middle of the cut off edge where it was supposed to take away my blood and...

I ripped my eyes back to Tosh.

"Tell me something - anything! How did you join Torchwood?"

"I, um…" Tosh stammered, looking wildly around the medibay, catching Owen's eye and quickly looking away. She grabbed her lower lip with her teeth, grimacing. Why…

Oh CRAP. Of course. Fuck and shit! And like an idiot, I go bringing up her most painful history AGAIN!

What an insensitive piece of… oh god, what do I do now?

The sick feeling in my stomach basically tripled, churning violently with guilt and anxiety over guilt. Why do I keep…

And I can't even fix it, I'm not supposed to know it's even a sensitive topic, much less why.

"Jamie - look at me."

Hands on my shoulders, squaring up opposite me.

"Look. At. Me."

It's Owen. No needle in sight now. Just Owen, in front, wanting - no, demanding - me to give him my full attention.

He's not panicking. He speaking slowly, calmly - but this time it's firm and forceful, not condescending.

"Ok, good, now, I want you to meet my eyes. Focus on me, on what I'm saying. Nothing else, can you do that?"

I nod - still too sick to speak.

"Okay, Jamie, you're having a panic attack. You're hyperventilating, and you're as tense as that handrail over there. And that's not good, right?"

I glance over at the handrail.

"No, just focus on me. I need you to do something for me, right?"

I nod again.

"I need you to slow down your breathing. Just focus, breathe with me, ok - breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out."

It took all the concentration I could summon to match his breathing, but I did.

"Good, good. In, out. In, out. Count to four - in two three four, out two three four, in two three four - ok, good."

He reached for my arm again, stretched it out.

"Ok, Jamie, now I need you to just close your eyes." It was beginning to be hypnotic. Deep breathing, a soothing voice. My eyes closed almost on their own.

"Good girl. Now just keep on counting your breaths, ok? In two three four, out two three four, in two three four, out"

I almost didn't feel it - almost. Before I could panic again, it was done. I kept my eyes closed anyway - but I let myself notice again.

A pressure against my arm, a cool, smoothe tube. itchy, sticky tape holding something down against my arm just below the prick, Owen pulling a coil up and taping that as well.

Owen opening my hand and pressing a foam rubber ball against my palm.

"Ok, now, I want you squeeze that while you breathe, ok? in, squeeze three four, out release three four, in squeeze three four, out release, three four."

It felt like forever that I was breathing, in and out to a count of four - squeezing, releasing the ball. Nothing else existed - just in and out, squeeze and release.

Then he took the ball away.

I reached, grabbed the air, trying to get it back.

"No, it's ok, it's ok - we're good, okay?"

A firm squeeze of my shoulder - reassuring, at least that's how it felt.

I opened my eyes. The needle was still in my arm. I felt sick again.

"Hey, Jamie, you're doing great, just hang on, ok?"

I looked over at Tosh - she was smiling uncertainly at me. I tried the breathing again, and it actually helped. Next thing I knew, Owen took my free hand and brought it over to my donor arm.

"Here, press down on this for me when I say so."

I felt something soft under my fingertips. I glanced down - a stack of gauze. Focusing on my breathing and looking at the white square beneath my fingertips, I almost didn't notice the needle when he pulled it out. He pulled a roll of some wrinkly stuff and began wrapping it around my arm, securing the gauze tightly.

Tosh spoke up.

"Was this your first time giving blood?"

"Yeah. Yeah it was."

"Well you did really well."

I took a deep breath. I didn't feel really well, but hopefully it would pass.

"All right, Jamie," said Owen, "I think you're good to go. Eat something, drink a lot and take it easy for a day or two."

"I'm… you're… you're done? I can go home now? I mean, um - Tosh's place I didn't mean that I thought you've already figured it out, only Tosh I guess that's underestimating you because I suppose you could you are a genius of course."

I was rambling. Tosh looked embarrassed, and Owen was rolling his eyes.

"All right, new girl," he said as he helped me up. "Why don't you head home and take care of yourself. Tosh? You think you can get her home?"

"I can get her to mine. I'm afraid her home will still take a bit more work."

I sighed. "Sorry," I muttered.

"Why are you sorry? You're the one stuck with us - and even more you're stuck with HIM as your doctor."

"Oi!"

I really didn't mind, this was a break from feeling like a failure - but I was just too tired to argue. With either of them.

"Okay. Can we head back to your place? I'm really tired."

"Of course"