Title: Get the Balance Right
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Owen Harper
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: PG
Table: 4
Prompt: 44, Balance
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Owen Harper, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

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The Doctor looked up at the clock in the brightly lit waiting room for what seemed like the hundredth time, crossing his legs and then uncrossing them, heaving a sigh and fidgeting in his chair. At least it was soft velveteen, not the hard plastic that he'd come to expect from hospitals. This place had gotten that right, if not much else.

He shouldn't be here. He knew that. But he hadn't been able to ignore Jack's frantic message, telling him what was happening and what he wanted the Doctor to do. He'd resisted at first, telling Jack repeatedly that he couldn't change someone's destiny, that it wasn't right.

But he hadn't been able to let it happen. Not because he'd known Owen Harper personally; he didn't have any idea what the man was like, other than a very brief, fleeting impression that he'd gotten of a man who would age to be a crusty curmudgeon -- if he lived that long. Why hadn't he had some vision of how Owen's life would turn out then?

He hadn't. Maybe if he'd tried to look into the future, taken some interest in Jack's Torchwood team .... No. The Doctor shook his head, firmly pushing those thoughts away. He hadn't had any kind of premonition, and he wasn't going to chastise himself for that. He hadn't know what would end up happening, and it was better that he hadn't known.

Yet here he was, changing Owen's destiny in a much more drastic way than he really had any right to do. He'd listened to Jack -- for once -- and taken the Tardis into that hell that would have killed Owen and disintegrated him into nothingness. Luckily, he'd managed to pull Owen into the ship just before the human had passed out, and brought him here.

Here. To New Earth. To a place where he could set Owen's life right -- if he chose to. To a place that could change everything.

Well, there was only one problem with that. He'd told Jack that he would try to rescue Owen -- but he hadn't told the immortal that he would. And now that the deed was done, and he'd done something that he more than likely shouldn't have even contemplated, he found himself not wanting to take Owen back to where he belonged when all this was over.

He'd gone back into the past. His own past, a past that he'd rather not have remembered. It was the only way that he could think of to bring Owen back -- literally. Hopefully, that mirace was taking place right now, at this instant, in this same building where he was huddled in a chair and waiting anxiously for some word of how it was going.

Could they bring Owen back? Or was he doomed to a half-life forever? The Doctor sincerely hoped not; he might not have had much of an impression of Owen at their first meeting, but from what he'd seen of the young doctor, he was a better person than might be obvious at first glance. He was certainly brave; no one could fault him in that department.

He looked around the room, studying the walls, the lights, anything other than the faces around him. There were surprisingly few; he couldn't really remember if it had been like this when he'd first been here. He'd shut the place down then, which had definitely been the right thing to do -- but he hadn't known that he would need it so desperately at some point.

Yes, he'd told Jack that he would try to do this. But would it be the right thing to take Owen back to Earth, to Torchwood, to his old life? That life was behind him now. And from what he'd been told, this young man had a family who didn't care about him, and not much else but his work and his colleagues in Torchwood. Not much to go back to.

The Doctor sighed again, resting his head in his hands. If he was honest with himself, he didn't want to take Owen back. He'd spent the last few weeks -- weeks? or was it months? he had no idea -- alone, telling himself that he would find someone when the time was right. It seemed as if the time was right, if he was willing to grasp at this chance.

Owen would need a place to convalesce, that was certain. The Tardis could be that place. He didn't absolutely have to tell Jack that he'd been able to rescue Owen. And he could give Owen the chance to stay with him, or go back to his life with Torchwood.

Of course, there was always the chance that Owen wouldn't want to stay with him. Probably a much bigger chance than the idea that he might want to stay, the Doctor told himself glumly, wondering what in the world made him think that Owen might, for even a moment, want to gallivant around in time and space with someone he barely knew.

But then again, he hadn't really known any of his companions when they'd first joined him, had he? They'd all been chosen more out of expedience than anything else. He'd been lonely, he'd wanted someone to be a friend and companion to him, and they'd been there. That had been all there was to it. This .... was a bit more complicated.

There was something in him that was drawn to this young man, though he couldn't put his finger on quite why. It was a strange feeling, to be so attracted to someone and to have no idea why he felt that way. Perhaps it was because Owen seemed so strong, so capable -- and yet, in the situation he was in now, he needed the Doctor, needed what the Time Lord could do for him.

Would he be grateful that he'd been brought back? Or would he feel that the Doctor had no right to do so, and demand to be taken back to the 21st century and Torchwood? There was no way to know, not until he'd spoken to Owen and the other man knew exactly what he'd done. He couldn't help feeling that he might have overstepped a boundary ....

The Doctor sighed again, leaning back in the chair and recrossing his legs. Another glance at the clock told him that it was only ten minutes past where it had been before. Time was moving so infuriatingly slowly -- as it always seemed to when there was something that felt very precious to him hanging in the balance.

How was he going to manage this? He really hadn't thought about what he was doing when he'd taken the Tardis into his own personal past and brought Owen here. He hadn't been thinking about what he was doing when he'd told the residents here to try and bring Owen back from the state he was in. His only thoughts had been of immediacy, not the future.

It was already done. He couldn't go back and undo it -- and he wouldn't. He'd already crossed a line that he might have done better to leave well enough alone. There was nothing for it but to go on from here, and hope that he hadn't mucked up too badly.

There was a balance here, a balance that he had to be careful to keep. He should have weighed the pros and cons more carefully before he'd brought Owen here, but there hadn't been time. He'd had to make a decision, and now that it was done, he could only hope that he'd done what was best not only for himself, but for the young man who was now in his care.

The Doctor's lips quirked in a smile at that thought. Owen, letting anyone care for him? Not bloody likely. He knew that there was some sort of recent lost love in his life -- two, if he could believe the hints that Jack had dropped -- but the man he'd briefly been introduced to hadn't seemed like the sort to open his heart easily.

And besides, Owen probably didn't fancy men. No, he would more than likely recoil if the Doctor tried to reach out to him in that way, however tentatively. The Time Lord leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling and focusing on a crack that zigzagged across his line of vision. There was no use being attracted to Owen. It would never pan out in the end.

But still .... even if there wasn't anything there of that sort, maybe he would want the adventure that being the Doctor's companion could bring. Maybe he wouldn't want to go back to Torchwood. It was entirely possible that he would feel this was an entirely new phase of his life, and that he wanted to live it in a way that he'd never dreamed of before.

He couldn't feel that he had much to go back to, after all. Everyone other than the Torchwood team thought he was dead -- and Owen certainly didn't seem like the sort of person who would want to deal with the awkwardness of starting a new life in the same place. He really was better off to be with the Doctor -- at least, from the Time Lord's point of view.

The Doctor ran a thin hand through his hair, wishing that he could stop his mind from going in a hundred different directions at once. There was no using contemplating all of this and trying to guess what Owen's reaction would be -- he would know that soon enough, when he was told what had taken place in the rooms behind those forbidding doors to his left.

A shiver went through him as a sudden thought struck him, taking his breath away for a moment. What if .... what if Owen didn't survive this? What if he'd been dead for too long to be brought back? What if he was stuck in some sort of half-life forever?

He didn't want to think about that. Not that he would mind having someone who wasn't technically alive with him -- but if that was the case, Owen more than likely wouldn't thank him for bringing him here in a vain attempt to reverse something that he should have left alone. And it wouldn't endear the Doctor to him in any way.

It was too late to think about things like that. He'd made his choice when he'd brought Owen here -- and given that choice again, if he was honest with himself, he would have done the same thing. Owen's life had been taken from him too soon, and he deserved better than that. Hopefully, he'd be given a second chance -- a chance that he had every right to be granted.

The Doctor looked up sharply as a figure moved through the double doors, approaching him across what seemed like miles of floor. He stood up, his hearts feeling as though they were thundering in his chest. This was it, then. This was what it all came down to. He would find out in a few seconds if what he'd done had been the right decision, or if he'd made a horrible mistake.

He couldn't speak as he faced the being walking up to him; it was as though his throat had closed, letting no words out. He could only raise his brows in mute question, hoping that what he was trying to ask would be understood.

"It took longer than expected -- after all, he seems to have crossed over a while ago." The -- what should he call this being with a cat's face? -- person waved a hand to indicate where they'd just come from, their eyes turning back to the Doctor and studying him as if wondering what they should say. "But he's come out of it well."

"Is he ....?" The Doctor could barely bring himself to say the words. "Is he alive?" That was all he needed to know. If Owen had been given back the life that had been too suddenly and cruelly taken from him, then no matter what happened, this would all have been worth it. All the worry, all the indecision. He would have made the right choice.

"Yes, he's alive. Weak, but he'll be all right if he doesn't try to exert himself too much." The cat-person studied the Doctor quizzically, tilting that leonine head to one side. "Is he family?"

"No." The Doctor shook his head, reluctant to reveal more than he had to. "Just someone who I .... care for." His tongue stumbled over the words; for some reason, they weren't easy to voice aloud. It almost felt as if he shouldn't say them, but they were true. When had he come to feel this way? That was a question he'd have to grapple with at a later date.

"Ah, I see." The cat's face almost smirked, if such an expression was possible for them. The Doctor said nothing, only looking towards the doors that he knew hid Owen from his view. He had to get through those doors; he had to make sure that Owen was .... as he was supposed to be. And he had to find a way to get the young man out of here and back to the Tardis.

"Can he be moved soon?" It didn't matter if he was told that this wouldn't be possible, the Doctor told himself, trying to look as innocuous as possible while he asked the question. They didn't need to know that he intended to have Owen out of here tonight -- sooner, if he could. "I'd like to be able to take him home as soon as I can."

"I don't see why not." The cat-face looked thoughtful for a few moments; then the being shrugged and pointed towards the doors. "If you'd like to see him, he's recovering at the moment. I think you'll find that everything is in order. There were no complications, in spite of the fact that he seemed to have been dead for at least a few days."

"He was," the Doctor said, not offering more of an explanation than that. He moved towards the doors, turning and looking back at the cat-person when he reached them. A smile flickered across his features, a smile that brightened his entire face. "Thank you. I can't thank you enough for this. I hope you all remember that."

He turned and pushed the doors open, his footsteps quickening as he headed down the hallway towards the his destination. Now, to figure out a way to get Owen out of here without being seen, he thought, his mind already running over the possibilities. It would certainly prove to be a rather interesting way to spend an evening.

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Next story in series - Back To Life.