After her boyfriend's death Clara Oswald takes comfort in the fact that a part of him still lives on and she seeks out the man who carries her loved one's heart inside him. John Smith would like nothing more than to resume his life like it was before the surgery, but he struggles to adjust and somehow he finds he has a soft spot for the woman who lost the man that saved his life.

Will John find it in him to change or is Clara still not ready to let go and accept that just because they share a heart, it doesn't mean that they are the same?

Matters of the Heart

Chapter 1

When the alarm tore him from his sleep the last thing John Smith wanted to do was to actually get out of bed. He could hear the rain rattling down on his roof as if a great flood wanted to wash them all away. Damn, he had spent too much time reading the Bible lately. Not that it had done him any good at all. Not that it had made him feel any better.

The alarm didn't stop however, instead it kept nagging him, reminding him of his appointment. Would it be very rude not to show up, to cancel on her? Yes, he supposed it would be, so John threw the duvet aside and sat up. It was just a meeting for coffee, just one of his attempts to understand what was going on inside of him that would amount to nothing. It wasn't as if he had planned anything else for the day except to drift through those hours during which he was awake like he always did ever since the surgery.

John Smith used to be different once, back when death had still been lurking on his doorstep, ready to strike at any given moment. He had never been a nice man but at least he had had something in his life – the drive to make his last months, weeks, days count for something, to leave something behind. Now that he knew he was going to live it seemed that he had run out of reasons to. The drive was gone and for now his publishers were tolerating it, blaming it on the impact of the heart transplant and recovery, but soon he would have to present them with an idea for a new novel and he couldn't. He hadn't written a single word in almost four months. He couldn't write, he didn't know what about and all those novels he had just typed away at the speed of light before the surgery now seemed like the work of someone else entirely. Something about him had changed and four months on he still felt a stranger in his own skin. Before the surgery he had been an arse and his publishers had tolerated it because he had been a genius. Now he was simply an arse with no idea how he was supposed to make a living from now on.

Then, about two weeks ago, Dr Martha Jones had called him.

2 Weeks Ago

"Is this about the results?" John asked and all of a sudden he felt afraid. Was he going to die after all? "Is something wrong?"

"No, your results are picture book perfect," Dr Jones reassured him immediately, "There's something else and it's a little unusual this way around."

"Well?"

"We've had a call from a young woman. She is your donor's girlfriend and she has asked to meet you."

For a moment John wasn't quite sure what to say. He didn't like people very much and, if he was completely honest he didn't want to meet some hysterical, grieving woman just cause her boyfriend had donated his heart to him after he had managed to get himself killed. He didn't know why she would want to meet him, why he should even go through the trouble. Her boyfriend was dead. John was alive. It probably should have been the other way around.

"Normally it's the recipient who asks to speak to the donor's relatives or spouses. I'm sure you can understand why," his doctor went on.

"Not really, no," John replied bluntly.

Martha Jones paused for a moment. "It's a tough adjustment. Most people find it easier if they know about the person who gave them a second chance at life. Maybe it would be good for you to talk to her, you know."

John didn't answer.

"Her name is Clara Oswald. And she asked us for your phone number. We can only give it out with your permission."

Clara Oswald.

No, that name didn't ring a bell at all. "Listen, this woman is probably still grieving her boyfriend's death. I'm not sure I'd be the best person for her to talk to. I'm not good at this sort of thing. Why don't you give her the number of a counsellor instead?"

He heard Dr Jones sigh on the other end of the line and something told him he was going to get a lecture. "Do you remember one of the conversations we had about a year before the surgery?" she asked him.

John scoffed. "You mean the one where you threatened to take me off the waiting list because of my attitude?"

"That's the one," his doctor confirmed, "I don't want to regret the decision I made back then because by the time the next heart will become available a few of those people still on the list will have died. Better people, people may have deserved a chance to live more than you did."

John sighed. He hated being guilty into playing nice. And he really, really didn't want to meet with a stranger over coffee to share sob stories.

"You want to live, Mr Smith, I know it. Your results are perfect, you show up at every single appointment, you stick to your diet and your exercise, but that isn't everything and the rest is what worries me. I don't think you're coping with the change as well as you think and maybe talking to that woman will help you."

"Fine," John agreed without really wanting to, but Dr Jones didn't leave him much of a choice, "Give her my number, but tell her to prepare for disappointment."

He would disappoint her for sure, John knew it when he stepped under the shower and let the water wash away the faint remainders of his nightmares. They had been plaguing him ever since the surgery and John didn't even understand what they were about, just that he woke up every morning, feeling a sense of dread and loss.

John didn't know what he was supposed to tell Miss Oswald except that she couldn't expect anything from him. His health was fine now, he was alive, thanks to her dead boyfriend. Though he was aware he should probably try to phrase it a little more nicely. Or maybe he wouldn't, at least she would never call and bother him again.

1 Week Ago

"Hi," a shy voice said into the phone, "Am I speaking to John Smith?"

John swallowed and noticed that his palms suddenly felt a little damp when he had to tighten the grip around his phone. It was probably time for his medication because there was no reason for his heart to be pounding right now. Something was off. Something was definitely not right.

"Yes," he replied, clearing his throat. His throat. Why did he feel as if his heart was trying to jump out of his throat?

"I'm Clara Oswald," the woman went on to explain while John sat down. He hardly even heard what she had to say to him, "The hospital gave me your number. They said it was okay to call?"

"Yes," he repeated even though he would have loved to tell her to get lost, yet somehow he couldn't. Something was wrong with his heart and he didn't have the strength to argue right now. He needed to get to a hospital immediately.

Clara hesitated on the other end of the line. "Is it okay if we met for coffee some time? I would like," she broke off, "I don't know. I want to know how you are, I guess. I want to see that a part of him still lives on."

"That's. . . that's fine, I think," John found himself saying, still not able to shake the feeling that his heart was about to fail him any second.

"Good," her voice lightened up, "How does a week from Saturday sound?"

"Sounds good," he replied breathlessly, "Listen, I've got to go now. Let's text about the details."

John didn't wait for her to say anything else then, he simply hung up and rushed to the hospital where they instantly ran all kinds of tests, only to find that he was in perfect health.

"Are you sure?" John asked the nurse that had delivered the news, "I'm not feeling alright."

Rory, the nurse, raised his eyebrows. "Well, you look healthy to me and were certainly healthy enough to shout at the hospital staff half an hour ago."

"I'm fine now," John replied angrily, "I wasn't fine when I came here!"

"Well," Rory said and handed him the results, "This says you're fine, so you can go home now. See you on Friday for your usual appointment."

John had no other choice but to go back home, feeling fine once more, but still remembering how his heart had threatened to jump out of chest and how scared he had been. His doctor was right. He wanted to live.

John checked his looks in the mirror after he had stepped out of the shower and considered shaving off the beard that had started to grow on his chin, but then decided not to make an extra effort for Miss Oswald. God forbid he made a decent impression that would make her want to repeat the meeting.

With a sigh he reached for his jacket and umbrella, determined to get this meeting over with and never look back on it.