Star Crossed Heroes

"It's all right. Really, Tosh. It's all right." Those were the last words he ever would say. And he meant every one of them. He had only one regret, and that was that he hadn't noticed what was right in front of him for so long, not until it was too late.

The world went white, not black like the first time he'd died. This time felt different. It was white, and warm, and had his body actually produced chemicals anymore, he'd have said it was caused by the purge of chemicals flooding his brain to make his death painless. But he didn't feel anything anymore. He didn't feel pain or hunger or even lust. He had wanted to die for real before, shortly after he had come back. But he didn't. And since then, he had found something else to live for. SomeONE else. Just when he wanted to live again, he was about to die. He would have gone out screaming, since he couldn't well go down fighting.

But then he'd heard Tosh's voice. Her pleading for him to stop. Why? 'Because it's breaking my heart.' The sobs in her voice snapped him out of his rage. The standard stages for mourning are Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. He skipped past the bargaining and depression, letting the pain in Tosh's voice slap him back to what was happening. She'd blamed herself. That's the last thing he wanted. He wanted her to live on, find someone to make her happy. Maybe name a kid after him or something. But live a long, happy life after he was gone. He couldn't leave her blaming herself, could he?

So he told her it was all right. He told her it wasn't her fault. It wasn't. There was no way it could be. As everything faded, his last thoughts were of her.

"Owen!" Toshiko cried, the screen showing the Turnmill Nuclear Power Station shifting to oblivion. He was gone. She was dying, she could feel the strength melt from her body, the cold of blood loss settling into her. Tears fell in streams, the salty trails cooling on her face as she fought to focus. She had to stay awake, had to tell them about Owen. He couldn't just die in vain. They couldn't just forget about him in there as the radiation faded over the next however many centuries. He saved the city… he was a hero. He didn't deserve to just fade into nothingness.

"Toshiko? Toshiko!" She heard Jack from far away. Then an instant later felt him holding her. She could barely see him through the veil of tears and the white nothingness devouring the edges of her vision. "Gwen! I need help down here!" She just needed to tell them… about Owen. That's the singular thought making her cling to life.

"The nuclear plant at Turnmill. Owen's there." She heard Ianto's voice from… somewhere… she was having too much trouble focusing to know where.

"Sealed in… re-routed the blast…" she explained, with what felt like the very last of her strength. There was so much more she'd have liked to say, but didn't. So much more she wanted to do, but never would. But as she faded away into oblivion, she found she didn't exactly care.

Owen wandered through oblivion for what felt like hours, but very well could have been seconds… time was inconsequential there, after all.

"Owen?" He spun at his name, squinting through the too-bright whiteness around him. It was like a fog all around him. "Owen, is that you?"

Oh, God. Not here. This must be some sort of happy place to protect his mind as his body melts away. She can't really be there. His mind rebelled at the mere idea of her being dead with him. Not his Tosh. "I'm dreaming." He announced, his voice dulled by the emptiness around him.

"No." She answered softly, following his voice. He realised he, too, was moving closer to her voice. "I…" She couldn't bring herself to say it. It was too weird, even for her. "I'm really here. As are you. Probably some polypsychokinetic energy field created by our emotional connectivity and the proximity of our times of death." There, she said it. She's dead, too. It felt… strange. Coming to terms with it would probably be pretty tough. At least she had plenty of time.

"No." Owen was within sight of her now. She was wearing what he had last seen her in, but with a large, bloody tatter in the lower abdomen of her shirt. "Nonononononono." He chanted until he reached her. His medical training kicked in, and he lifted the hem of her shirt to examine the wound. The clinical part of his brain noted that it was a gunshot wound, as even in this noncorporeal form his vision swam with tears. "When?" He managed to choke out, pulling her into a tight hug. Logically, he knew it had to have been soon after his own demise. But the hopeful part of him said that it wasn't unusual to wear the same outfit on other days. Hopefully, years down the line.

Her arms wrapped around him, clinging to him as though if she let go, he'd vanish. "Grey shot me before I walked you through the meltdown procedure. I… it wasn't my arm that I was needing the painkillers for." She confessed, head against his shoulder, just taking in the comfort of his embrace. She thought she'd never see him again. "I managed to hold out long enough to tell the team what happened to you." She explained, voice soft and tear filled. "I thought I'd never get to see you again." Her tears soaked Owen's shirt, and he felt them. Fuck. How could he feel anything? He's dead. Ghosts don't cry, and they sure as shit don't feel tears soaking their shirts. Where the hell were they?

No, not hell. It couldn't be. Tosh didn't deserve hell. Owen, sure. He was an arse, all the shit he did, that he put others through. Sure, he could believe he deserved hell. But not Tosh. Never. She was the closest thing to an angel anyone could come. He only hated himself for not realising it sooner. "Hey…" he pulled back and lifted her face to meet his eyes. "Kinda silly to cry over me when you're in the same boat." He felt his heart lurch at the sight of her tears. He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her lips. She certainly felt tangible enough. She was so warm, so… alive.

Tosh's eyes drifted closed almost melting into the kiss. She had dreamed of that moment for years. It was just a shame they had to die to get it. Not that it in any way diminished the importance of the moment. She loved him, and was glad that if she had to die, at least he was there with her. Eternity with him seemed like a pretty nice deal, actually. "Thank you." She whispered, nuzzling his cheek. "But at least we got to the chance… in the end, anyway." If this was what forever was going to be like, she had no complaints.