“...oh.” Matt wasn't sure if he was in shock, or if he really didn't care that much about the fact that he was now stuck in the Wales of another universe and wouldn't ever be able to go back. No more working for the Boston Police Department, solving murders while pissing off all of his co-workers; no more running interference between his sister and mother so they wouldn't “accidentally” kill each other; no more instantly deleting all of his dad's phone calls; no more... well, he couldn't particularly say no more being stuck in elevators with the corpses of man-eating fish, although he did hope for it.
All of the others were looking at him apprehensively, almost expecting him to either start ranting or to break down in tears. Matt was always sorry to disappoint (well, not really, he always purposefully planned to disappoint, but telling people that tended to piss them off and he'd noticed that the entire group of Torchwoodies had at least one gun on them).
After a few seconds of them waiting for Matt to spaz out, Owen seemingly got bored and took the opportunity to retreat back to his desk which was almost wallpapered (it would have been wallpapered, but it's hard to wallpaper something that isn't a wall, and desks did not qualify as such) with paperwork. Yes, yes, people being stuck in another dimension, never able to contact family or friends again, quite sad. But that didn't write all his reports for him.
“So what's going to happen to me?” Matt asked not long after Owen went over to his desk. “I mean, is there another Matt Seely in this universe? And I don't have any records or anything, how am I supposed to get a job to, you know, live?”
Toshiko took this as her cue to jump in. “I did a search for all Matt Seelys in the United States. There was a few of them, but they were all too old to be you.”
“And as for the records, we can always forge those,” Jack said, watching him closely. “We'll help you get settled in, find a place to live, and a job.”
Matt frowned, thoughtfully. A job, a new job. He could be anything (well, within reason) that he wanted to be. And he was drawing a complete blank on job options. He could go back to the police force – but if he remembered correctly, cops in the UK didn't carry guns, and he always got very paranoid without a firearm. And he was definitely going to stick around the UK, because this group of strange people were the only ones he had any connection to in this world.
That's when it hit him, how alone he was. Delayed reaction, maybe. “Why can't I work here?” he demanded, desperate to keep contact with the only people he knew – or the only people he knew that also knew him, anyway.
Jack gave him a placating smile. “Torchwood isn't exactly... a normal workplace,” he started off. “We don't just deal with people – and dinosaurs – that fall through time.”
No shit, thought Matt. “No shit,” Matt then said. Even at the best of times, which this wasn't, Matt didn't keep much of what he thought inside his own head. It tended to bounce around and echo loudly when he did that, until it distracted him to the point that he accidentally spiced up his coffee with Tabasco sauce. Woody still laughed at him for that (and he had a right to, since Matt had taken one sip of the coffee and then spit it out all over his desk in front of the whole squad room). Woody probably wasn't going to laugh at him anymore, though. What with him disappearing off the face of the planet. No more Woody mocking him, no more him teasing Bug about Lily, or mouthing off to Macy.
Before he go too in-depth in his own personal pity party, Jack smirked at him and then raised his voice, keeping his eyes on Matt. “Hey Owen, why don't you take Matt here down to the cells and introduce him to Janet?” he asked.
Owen grumbled, but left his paperwork with a glower at first the forms, and then Jack, who insisted that he fill out said forms. “Come on,” he grunted as he strode by Matt, who looked highly confused. (Others would say he looked highly sarcastic, but the subtle tilt of his eyebrow and the microscopic widening of his eyes changed it into what Matt, at least, recognized as confusion.)
Janet turned out to be the name of a creature that looked a bit like someone had cross-bred humans with wild boars and then raised them near Chernobyl. “We call them Weevils,” Owen said, sounding a bit bored with his reaction.
“So where's the bigger one?” Matt asked.
Owen turned and frowned at him. “What?”
“This is the lesser of two Weevils, right?” Matt started to laugh at his own lame joke, and it didn't take too long for it to become more than a little hysterical, to the point that he had to carefully make himself sit down in the corner where the dirty concrete wall met the equally dirty concrete floor, across from 'Janet'.
After a moment, Owen knelt down in front of him, looking uncertain. “Are, uh, you all right?”
Some more hysterical giggles, and Matt managed to choke out, “Peachy keen.”
They sat there like that (well, Matt sat and Owen knelt) for a while longer as Matt slowly calmed himself down and stopped the giggles. He leaned his head against the wall and caught his breath before speaking in a voice so calm it was bordering on hysterical. “You know, the stupid thing is that what I'm actually going to miss the most? Is arguing with people I don't really like.” This almost made him crack up again, but by very calmly breathing in, and then out, then in again, and then out again, he managed to stay calm.
“Er,” Owen was obviously uncomfortable. “Well, you can argue with me, if you want,” he said, still watching Matt as if he was going to snap and go on a psychotic rampage.
Matt pouted. “That wouldn't work. I actually like you.” He sounded a little disappointed by this, like he'd been hoping to dislike everyone in the creepy underground building he'd appeared in and Owen was completely ruining his dreams.
Owen raised an eyebrow. “I'm... sorry?” Matt grinned at that, but didn't break into hysterics again. It seemed like that moment had, thankfully, passed. Owen put out his hand (and wondered at himself; he wasn't usually this nice to people. Or nice at all) and helped Matt off the ground. “Come on, I've got paperwork to complete,” he said, unable to keep the whine out of his voice. “And you need to work things out with Jack.”
Matt smirked. “You make it sound like we're in a relationship or something.” Owen rolled his eyes in response, and they headed back to the main section of the building, the part that was actually lit to look like something other than a set for a really bad horror movie.
When they got there, Jack waved Matt into his office and got started with creating an identity for him, Matt insisting the entire way that he was going to work for Torchwood. Then they came to the part of the forgery where they were giving him a university degree and the like. “What degree would you like?”
“Which one's best for working at Torchwood?” Matt asked. Jack glared and Matt looked innocent (key word: looked). And then they both dropped those looks as klaxons began to blare and the entire place went into lock-down. “Well,” Matt said, “That can't be good.”