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“It is nothing to die. It is frightful not to live.” ? Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
Mordecai didn’t know a lot about life. His memories of his life had been wiped – the Dreamers didn’t have the luxury of such knowledge. Death was all the teenager knew. He saw it all the time, could see it in the trees and the stars, the corpses of animals shoved brutally off the road, the howling of spirits as he crossed the cemetery. Occasionally it got overwhelming to constantly watch those with heartbeats gradually lose them, to watch the color drain from them until they were cold and discolored. Some of them came back. Most of them didn’t.
He wasn’t sure which was better.
The Dreamer drifted along the street. He didn’t know where he was, but he so rarely did. Locations didn’t seem to hold the same weight to the dead as they did to the living. The sun held no promise of warmth, and the earth no promise of comfort. The Heartbeats passed through him, shuddering from the sudden chill. He stopped moving, watching as the chill of death affected them. How would they react, he wondered, if they knew they were touching death itself?
He reached out his hand curiously, running his fingers along a woman’s hair. She shuddered and moved away, giving a glare around her incase a man was messing with her. Mordecai smiled, dropping his hand as he watched the people around him fill on a bus. She had her own life – death had probably already touched her. Her parents, her grandparents. Perhaps a friend. A child.
As the bus moved away, Mordecai swayed as his eyes observed the city around him. Full of Heartbeats. His attention was drawn to a man. He could smell the death on him, see the darkness around him. But… people seemed to interact with him, when he brushed against the Heartbeats. Mordecai’s feet were in motion before his thoughts were as the teenager ran towards the strange man. He walked along the man, staring at him in a look of confused awe. He was silent – despite the death around him, Mordecai was used to not being heard, and that had silenced his voice around people.
Owen walked down the sidewalk in silent reflection as he tried to escape the world of Torchwood. Having left the Hub behind while the team was away on business he had sneaked out the back entrance and ran a few blocks to a nearby pub where he hid out for a bit. Now he found himself standing outside it talking to some patrons. "Ya I drink here regularly but sometimes work gets in the way. Why didn't I have some drinks today? Well because I have to work tonight I just really passed through to see if an old friend would stop by." After a while of talking the hair on the back of Owen's neck suddenly stood on end and he glanced about. He shrugged it off and moved away from the group of living men and women. He began to walk down the sidewalk alone.
His head lowered and his shoulders hunched he began to move towards a place he had frequently gone too, a roof atop an apartment complex. Often times he had considered jumping but he knew it was fruitless thought. He couldn't die, he was already dead and he now owed his current condition to his boss Jack Harkness. His dark eyes narrowed and he growled softly to himself. He was not a fan of his Captain, he had never really liked the man and he liked him even less now. He had been turned into the team's pet, locked away in the Hub like some dark terrible secret. Reduced to making coffee while Ianto got his place of shining glory, obviously the Captain's new favorite. Owen scoffed softly, the man had no special skill, no outshining quality. Tosh was the computer wiz, Gwen the specially trained police officer, with quite a nice buttocks if he did say so himself, and he was the incredibly handsome medical genius.
Owen kicked a can at a building and sighed. He had died in action, saving Martha from a bullet, he had died a hero! Then Jack had to swoop in and use the Resurrection Glove on him and he was now the man's experiment! He sighed and looked down at the cars beneath him once more. Not all his feelings for Jack were animosity though. He still held a great respect for the man. Now he had seen death and felt it's cold embrace, seen the choking black emptiness it held for all he knew what it was Jack went through every-time he died. They shared a bond now, a bond that no one else in existence could share with each other and Owen respected that. So in a relaxed reflective state Owen stood alone on the roof now his anger gone and in it's place a cool acceptance. "Well if you can't beat it, might as well have fun while it lasts."
Despite the aura of death that clung to the man, it seemed Mordecai wasn’t visible. The ghost let out a small and disappointed sigh, following him closely. Once the man looked around – as though he sensed him – but Mordecai went unnoticed. He supposed he shouldn’t have expected much more than that. Wishful thinking had been gnawing deep at his bones lately – every glance in his direction had the young ghost in a dizzying and excited haze. It was all he had ever known, and yet when he saw the Heartbeats interact, he knew there was something so much more beautiful than being dead. And he couldn’t remember it, or how it had ended.
He sat down on the edge of the roof, watching the people below. How long would it be until they died? Would they stay dead? How many of them would become Dreamers? He looked up at the man curiously. Was he dead? It certainly didn’t have a pulse, Mordecai would have been able to sense it. But did that always mean death? It was feasible for a species not to have a heart if they had another way of pumping blood. Still, that didn’t explain the pervasive stench of it. Would this man jump?
No.
At the man’s words, Mordecai chuckled. “Death is forever, with a brief pause for breath. You’re dead for billions of years before you were alive, and you’re dead for billions more afterward. The moment in between is barely a second,” he told the man who had no indications of being able to hear him. That was his lot in life – the philosophical corpse no one could pay attention to.
Owen smiled at the scene below him of the life. His mind was at peace once more, his unbeating heart ached for that but he was at peace. Suddenly a hushed voice, almost like the wind bringing the eerie echo of some long lost conversation to him, reached his ears and he turned. Then he saw it, a man standing not to far away from him like the ghost of his past. He glances at the boy and blinks a few times. "Who are you?" He then stands carefully and walks over to him. "What are you?"
Mordecai’s eyes widened and he looked around, making sure there wasn’t anyone behind him. His bewildered expression quickly shifted into an excited one. “Mordecai!” he answered, circling the man curiously. Mordecai’s feet weren’t quite touching the ground – only his toes dragged along the roof as he drifted. At the man’s next question, the ghost shrugged, pulling up his feet and floating in front of him cross-legged. “I’m a Dreamer. I don’t know what a Dreamer is, before you ask. But you! What are you?”
Owen stares at the floating man and doesn't bat an eye. "So definitely a non-human." He walks a bit closer to the being and then circles around him in clear fascination. "Why are you following me? Or do you often come here as well?" His normal harsh "I don't care" manner is lost to the fact this being seemed surprised to see him despite seemingly to have been following him. He stops in front of the being and smiles softly. "How are you floating? A levitating wristband? Or are you one of those flying aliens?" He smiles happily, well a small happy smile at least, at the thought of meeting an alien and not having to do the Torchwood round up.
“Sort of non-human,” Mordecai agreed. He had been a human before, hadn’t he? He just happened to be a dead one now. Mordecai grinned at the man as he circled him, trying not to laugh. “I was following you because I thought you could see me. Which you can!” He floats a little higher, his happiness radiating off him in the form of warm air. “Guess I’m a floating alien, because I’m not wearing anything. But that’s not all I do.” He cupped his hands and blew into it, purple dust billowing out and forming into butterflies, landing on Owen’s arms and along his head. They were warm and powdery to the touch, and meant to make people feel better. “Ta-da!”
Owen nodded to the boy and smiled softly, a look he had found himself doing more since his death, well more than he ever did. “Well you don’t seem threatening so I won’t report you or even mention you to Torchwood.” His loyalty to his team had reached an all-time low since they turned him into a pet. While he still felt protective of his team mates, or were they former team mates now, he felt no love for the organization now.
“I was following you because I thought you could see me. Which you can!”
An impressed look crossed his face and he looked at the boy in shock. “You followed me? I’m impressed you were able to keep track of me so well. Yes I can see you, but I couldn’t at first. I just felt watched.” He watches the floating boy and then listened as he spoke again.
“Guess I’m a floating alien, because I’m not wearing anything. But that’s not all I do.”
Owen quirked a brow at the boys admission to floating and then tensed incase the boy drew a weapon. So as soon as the boy blew the purple dust at him, he flinched back from the dust.
“Ta-da!”
As soon as the relaxing sensation filled him Owen smiled and laughed. “Ta-da indeed. This is incredible. What are you doing to me?” He smiled happier than he had ever felt.
Torchwood? Mordecai tilted his head curiously at the word. He’d never heard of them before. At Owen’s question, he nodded. “Yeah, I’m good at keeping up with people.” Especially his Dreamings – though he was also drawn to those who were sad and angry. He couldn’t understand why – they were emotions that he himself rarely felt, so why should he feel such a strong attachment to those who do? “It’s easy for me to do it.” He was fast, flexible, and he could use nearly anything around him as a perch.
He frowned as the man flinched. Perhaps it didn’t work on grown-ups. Mordecai’s feet touched the ground and he hopped a bit closer, tilting his head to the side and lowering his head slightly as he stared at the man. But then Owen laughed and so Mordecai followed suit, leaping back into the air to hang upside down by one of the over-arching ventilation units on the roof. His toes curled into the edge of it and he hung by his toes, watching Owen curiously.
“I don’t know what it is,” Mordecai admitted, blowing into his hand to create more of the butterflies. They spread out before dissolving back into a purple powder and blowing down into the streets below. The butterflies on Owen’s arms evaporated as well. “But they make people feel better. It helps to remind them of all the happy things they’ve ever felt. That’s my job as a Dreamer. To make people better,” he said, flipping off the shaft and landing in front of him lithely. Mordecai was always moving, a habit he no doubt picked up from the children he spent the majority of his time around. “You never told me your name. Can I know it?”
“Yeah, I’m good at keeping up with people.” / “It’s easy for me to do it.”
Owen shrugged a bit at that. “I didn’t mean it as an insult child. It just surprised me. Normally I’m more alert and know when someone is following me.” He smiled frowned a bit at that not used to being nice to others. Usually he was course and rude to other people as a way to hide his real emotions, that or because he just didn’t like the other person. As a result he felt awkward being nice to the boy in front of him. In truth he didn’t actually hate this kid, he seemed nice and why should Owen be rude to him. Owen didn’t believe in being rude to children, that didn’t necessarily mean he liked children though. Yet he couldn’t help but feel little pleased by the boy’s company.
“I don’t know what it is,” Mordecai admitted, blowing into his hand to create more of the butterflies. /“But they make people feel better. It helps to remind them of all the happy things they’ve ever felt. That’s my job as a Dreamer. To make people better,” he said, flipping off the shaft and landing in front of him lithely.
Owen watched the child in shock as he hung like a bat from the air vent nearby. This was not something he had seen before, and that alone is saying a lot, but it was still enough to spark a sense of curiosity in his mind. “Before I joined Torchwood I was a doctor. I wanted to help make people better too. That didn’t last long cause soon after I got my first job I joined the Institute and became the doctor to corpses. Now I am a talking corpse and will never secure a job again.” I’m just the Institute’s pet. They’d never let me go, Jack would never let me go. Despite the butterflies on him he could feel the burning indignation in his chest at what Torchwood had reduced him to. As if giving up on him the insects dissolved into purple dust and left him and the boy alone again.
“You never told me your name. Can I know it?”
Owen hesitated at first then shrugged. He had already told the boy most of his secrets why not disclose his name as well. “I am Doctor Owen Harper, but you can call me Owen. What is your name?” He looked at the boy curiously hoping the boy would tell him his name, and also hoping he hadn’t already and he had forgotten it.
A doctor? Mordecai listened, curiously, the doctor’s tale. They weren’t so different, really. Mordecai had always wanted to make people better, for as long as he could remember. A doctor to corpses, though? Mordecai tilted his head and stepped a bit closer. Why did the man seem so angry to be dead? Had Mordecai been angry when he’d first died? He couldn’t remember anything except feeling happy – perhaps a bit lonely at times, sure, but mostly happy. Perhaps it was different if life was remembered.
He crept a little closer as Owen told him his name. “It isn’t so bad, being dead. I can’t remember what I was like before I became a Dreamer,” Mordecai admitted, “but I don’t think being dead is so bad. Maybe you should run away from your job, if they make you so unhappy. I could help you. I know lots of places,” he said. “You shouldn’t feel like you need to stay there for the rest of your afterlife. Being trapped is a terrible thing, Doctor Owen Harper.”
Mordecai grinned and gave the doctor a playful bow with dramatic flourish. “The name’s Mordecai,” he said, tipping an invisible hat to him. “I think so, anyway. Can’t remember anything from my life, but I remember seeing that name on a sheet next to my body.”
“It isn’t so bad, being dead. I can’t remember what I was like before I became a Dreamer,” Mordecai admitted, “but I don’t think being dead is so bad. Maybe you should run away from your job, if they make you so unhappy. I could help you. I know lots of places,” he said. “You shouldn’t feel like you need to stay there for the rest of your afterlife. Being trapped is a terrible thing, Doctor Owen Harper.”
Owen sighed and smiled at the child. Perhaps the child was right. He was so focused on returning to the way it was when he was alive he wasn’t enjoying the gift he had been given. A second life so to speak an escape from the void he had been in. Torchwood was holding him back once again, Jack was keeping him from living his life once more, he had to get away from this. “You would do that for me? Get me away from Torchwood? You’re right I’m trapped there, trapped trying to regain what I lost when I died. I need to get away, need to learn to enjoy the world once more, I’ve been given a second chance and I intend to make the best of it.” He smiled at the kid and couldn’t help but smile. He hadn’t felt this happy or relaxed since he had joined Torchwood, he liked it this way.
“The name’s Mordecai,” he said, tipping an invisible hat to him. “I think so, anyway. Can’t remember anything from my life, but I remember seeing that name on a sheet next to my body.”
“Well then, hello Mordecai, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Owen sat on the roofs edge and looked down at the bustling city. He felt relaxed, happy, at peace, he found it odd that he was more content with life now he was dead then when he was living. He figured it was probably because when he was living he didn’t feel complete, he wanted so bad to get away from life that he forgot to enjoy it. Now that was taken from him and he had nothing to escape now he was able to relax and look for good things in life. “Where would you lead me to escape Torchwood? They monitor so much of the world.” He looked at the kid and sighed. “All I want to do is make people happy and content. I was denied that in life, I want to do it now again. Even if it just means making their deaths peaceful.” He sighed and looked away. “I was denied even that. Mine was horrific and scary, but I died saving another.” He wouldn’t ask for a better death.
Mordecai grinned at the man, feeling the excitement behind his words. He nodded. “Of course I’d help you!” he said, listening to him carefully. He didn’t know what a ‘Torchwood’ was, but if there was anything Cai knew he was good at, it was hide-and-seek. “Good,” Mordecai said, giving a firm nod. “That’s what death is to some people – a second chance. And it’s my job to help people, and I figure even if you aren’t alive, you still need help,” Mordecai reasoned with a calm shrug. It made sense to him. He’d help Owen, and there wasn’t anything no stupid Torchwood could do about it!
The Dreamer followed him, drifting over to the edge. He sprayed a few of the butterflies downwards, watching as they brushed against the people below. “Anywhere you want. I’ll deal with Torchwood to let them let you go,” Mordecai said, brushing off Owen’s concern. “I can be very persuasive.”
He smiled, drifting off the roof to float cross-legged in front of Owen. “You’d be a good Dreamer. I bet you’re going to make a lot of people happy and at peace. Dying people need that hope.” He tilted his head as Owen told him how he died. “I don’t doubt it. I know a hero’s heart when I see one, and that doesn’t go away once it stops beating. I hope I died saving someone.”
“Of course I’d help you!” he said, listening to him carefully. He didn’t know what a ‘Torchwood’ was, but if there was anything Cai knew he was good at, it was hide-and-seek. “Good,” Mordecai said, giving a firm nod. “That’s what death is to some people – a second chance. And it’s my job to help people, and I figure even if you aren’t alive, you still need help,”
Owen looked at the boy beside him and offered one of his rare smiles. “Thank you.” It was rare for Owen to smile, let alone thank someone. A part of Owen was repelled at the thought of needing help but he was not so blind as to think he didn’t need it. He needed help, or he’d be stuck in Torchwood’s belly for the rest of his afterlife. “I am glad you understand me, I’d gladly accept your help Mordecai.” He looked out over the city and sighed heavily. “I just wish I didn’t need it. I’d think my friends would be helping me, guess they weren’t really my friends huh.”
“Anywhere you want. I’ll deal with Torchwood to let them let you go,” Mordecai said, brushing off Owen’s concern. “I can be very persuasive.”
“Anywhere I want? I’ve never really thought of going anywhere else to be honest.” He threw a small rock down and watched it bounce off the sidewalk and startle a few birds. “Where is a good place to go? I’ve only really left the city on official Torchwood business so not very good at vacationing.” He looked thoughtful for a few moments. “Maybe I could leave the planet?"
“You’d be a good Dreamer. I bet you’re going to make a lot of people happy and at peace. Dying people need that hope.” He tilted his head as Owen told him how he died. “I don’t doubt it. I know a hero’s heart when I see one, and that doesn’t go away once it stops beating. I hope I died saving someone.”
Owen looked at the boy next to him and blinked. “I could be a Dreamer? Is there some sort of training I go through? Some sort of changing I need to undergo to get those powers you have?” He was intrigued now, the thought of finally being able to help people and live, well sort of live, in peace filled him with a sense of hope he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Where would I go to get this training?"
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