@torchwoodtechie liked for a starter
Jack was gone.
And not gone like he had been a day ago, cold and pale on a mortuary slab (and Lord, that sight would give Owen nightmares for weeks, not half because the guilt threatened to overwhelm him at any given moment). He was just gone, vanished out of the Hub and he’d taken that weird hand in a jar with him. And he showed no signs of coming back.
It had been two weeks since he’d vanished, and they’d finally had a slow day, which had of course meant catching up on paperwork and, in Owen’s case, sulking in the autopsy bay and letting himself ruminate on things he probably shouldn’t. He didn’t even notice Tosh, staring blankly down at his report, one hand lightly rubbing the scarring gunshot wound on his shoulder.
