*Hey guys, sorry for the late update, life gets in the way sometimes eh? I'm a foul mood because I accidently deleted a prompt that I loved working on and probably won't have time to finish it again tonight. This chapter is a big one in the context of the story because there's a lot going but then really all of them are at this stage. We're reaching a critical point in the story. In any case, I really hope you guys love it. This one goes out to xandrota, who I haven't thanked properly for all of their amazing help over the last few weeks and their support. But thanks as ever to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited. Check back tomorrow. TPD*
"Can I get two white coffees, two black coffees and a herbal tea please?"
"Of course, coming right up."
The routine wasn't too bad. But it was the daily monotony of taking orders, making coffee, taking them to tables, taking payment, getting yelled at by customers her for things that weren't her fault, mopping the floors, getting yelled at by Donna for things that weren't her fault, refilling the coffee machines, getting yelled at by customers for things that were her fault, wiping down tables, getting yelled by Donna for things that were her fault, having to split her tips and worst of all, spilling boiling coffee down herself. It was Annabelle's idea of hell, on repeat. But that was no excuse, she told herself, as she saw her best friend enter Donna's and head towards Annabelle's till. She had been an absolute cow to Clara and there was absolutely no excuse for the way that she had behaved. The alcohol, the hatred of her own life, all projected outwards on Clara, who had taken it with surprisingly good grace, for someone so vulnerable and, if Annabelle's memory wasn't playing tricks on her, someone who was also quite drunk.
"Clara," Annabelle said quietly, earning her a scowl from Donna. "I mean, what can I get you miss? Let me guess, a single large breakfast tea, with plenty of milk and more than a sprinkle of sugar. That's coming right up. I have a break in ten," she added in a whisper. "I'll come and sit with you. I'm really sorry."
"It's fine," Clara smiled at Annabelle. Her soft hair hung like a curtain around her face but her eyes were alert and her lips raw. Clara really needed to stop chewing on them, Annabelle had decided. She looked okay, and there was no hint of anger in her expression or body language. "I'd like that."
Annabelle quickly made Clara's tea, knowing exactly how she liked it and adding just the right amount of milk, with a light sprinkling of cocoa on top. Clara always insisted that the sprinkle wasn't necessary but the look on her face when she sipped it told Annabelle that it was. Clara had found a table and Annabelle quickly finished up her tasks and Chloe took over on the tills as Annabelle slipped out of her apron, grabbed a coffee and sidled in opposite Clara. It had been three days since Annabelle had lost it at her and she was glad that Clara hadn't waited longer before coming in. Annabelle was working the late shift 2-10 and Clara had clearly just finished work. She had the post-work look of relief, mixed with elation. Annabelle wondered what that must feel like, to actually enjoy your job. She felt bitterness rising up inside her and scolded herself, reminding herself that she wasn't angry at Clara, but herself. Clara had done everything she could for Annabelle, well almost everything. They sat, staring at each other tentatively, both of them waiting for the other to make the first move. Annabelle licked her lips and sipped her coffee. Clara was better than her at this, but Clara herself seemed unsure of what to do, stirring her tea for far longer than was necessary. A trait Annabelle herself could relate to. Their eyes met and there was a tense moment where they both tried to smile.
"I'm sorry I've not been around," Clara began eventually. "I don't know why, but I was terrified of seeing you in case…"
"In case I did exactly what I did?" Annabelle laughed, no joy in the sound. "I spoke to Rose, she said that she could see this coming from a mile off and that she warned you to give me time to simmer. I think you took too much Clara. But it's okay, I'm the one who should be apologising. I was completely out of line. I need you to know, I don't believe any of what I said. I don't blame you. Tom's death…" she took a deep breath. "It was not your fault. It never was and I can't imagine how tough it must have been for you to accept that, even without me being a cow. I should not have said what I said."
"You had your reasons," Clara replied gently, reaching out her hand but Annabelle retracted hers. "Annabelle, I know that things aren't exactly going well for you, but whatever happens, I am here for you, I promise."
"You know Clara," Annabelle muttered. "You're probably the only person whose promises I trust. I hate my life Clara. I'm a failed novelist, living in a small flat on minimum wage, surviving off royalties. I'm alone and the only friends I have are you and Rose. People have promised me things my whole life and then they let me down. But you're different. You don't let people down. You don't walk out on those you care about. And besides, a breakdown in communication is two way. People who get angry at their friends for cutting off contact only have a case when they're actually trying to talk to them. And I was too wrapped up in my anger and suffering to stop and think that maybe I should have told you that I was at rock bottom and that everything was falling apart."
"I should have noticed," Clara sighed, clearly agitated as she ran her hands through her hair. "Sorry, long day. Had to break up a fight and my Year 10s marks are sliding. Plus, that Year 13 with the crush on me broke up with his girlfriend, so I'm worried that that might rear its ugly head again, especially now that he's turning 18. Not to mention the pregnan-"
She had stopped mid-word and looked furious with herself, as if she had slipped up and Annabelle didn't miss the trick. Pregnancy test. That was what she was going to say. Annabelle's eyebrows were up and her eyes piercing Clara's outer reluctance.
"You're not?" she breathed. Silence. "Clara, you're my best friend, you can tell me."
"No," Clara hissed, sounding frustrated. "That's the problem. I mean we've not even been trying that long, only since the start of September, but even so, you know?"
"Wow," Annabelle sat back stunned. Clara was looking horrified, as if she was just making things worse for Annabelle. But a smile broke Annabelle's face, a huge, cheesy grin and she let out a squeal so childish, Clara blushed. "Wow, Clara! That is amazing. Like, you're going to be a mum. And I'm going to have a little goddaughter running around! Oh my God, I can babysit all the time, I promise. And we can go shopping for baby clothes and Clara! This is incredible!"
"I'm not pregnant yet!" Clara laughed. "I thought that the other night was the night, you know? But apparently not. You know, it's one of those things. We'll get there, eventually."
Annabelle felt as if her world had been turned upside down. All her anger and pain had completely evaporated and she got up, crossing the table to Clara and pulling her onto her feet so that they could hug. Clara seemed reluctant for a moment, then she was as giddy as Annabelle and they leapt up and down excitedly, giggling like schoolgirls. Donna cleared her throat and was tapping her watch and Annabelle blushed, smoothing out her outfit before sharing a look with Clara and bursting into fresh, rapturous laughter. Clara finished her tea and grabbed her bag as Annabelle quickly cleared the table, sidling back behind the counter to grab her apron. Clara shot her a small wave and Annabelle sighed contentedly. All of a sudden, being covered in coffee, wiping up tables and being shouted at by strangers, didn't seem like such a bad thing.
When Annabelle got home, she was expecting Rose to be there, as her flatmate was never usually so late home. She was half-tempted to call her or drop her a text, but then she supposed Rose probably had a date or something. She hadn't been out much in the few months that she had been back in England and it would certainly be good for her to be out and about, doing something. Annabelle plucked a ready meal from the fridge and chucked it into the microwave, turning her nose up at it, but without much option. She was knackered after a long shift and just wanted to eat and then crawl into bed.
"Rose?" she shouted as she heard the front door open and shut. "Is that you…?"
She fell away as the Doctor's cousin David walked into her kitchen. Annabelle dropped her fork and forced her face into a perfect impression of a smile as Rose dashed over to the kettle, smiling affectionately at Ten, who shot Annabelle an awkward smile. Annabelle tried not to glare and kept her voice ice cool as she asked the question that caused Ten to flinch and Rose to drop her tea cup, shattering it on the floor.
"Does your fiancé know that you are here?"
"No," Ten admitted, as if he had needed to. "No she doesn't. And I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell her Annabelle. Or my cousin. And definitely don't tell Clara."
"Interesting," Annabelle smiled. "The one of the three you are most scared of isn't the one who can withhold sex, or with the one with a murderous left hook."
"I can handle the Doctor's left hooks!" Ten riposted. "Clara on the other hand…"
"Enough!" Rose snapped and Annabelle had felt the temperature in the room drop as Rose was shaking. "Annabelle won't say anything, will you? She's not going to stir up trouble."
"Rose," Ten said quietly, but Annabelle was on her feet, staring Rose down. "Annabelle, Rose doesn't mean it like that. She's just saying, that nobody needs to know about this."
"About what?" Annabelle deflected and they both exchanged a look. "You're obviously not having an affair, or you would be trying much harder to keep it subtle. So what exactly is going on here and why shouldn't I tell Clara?"
"Nothing is going on," Ten fielded, as it looked like Rose was about to explode. "We are just two old friends, going out for a meal, catching up on old times and offering some mutual support during difficult periods of both of our lives. And the truth is, it is utterly harmless, but as your reaction has just shown, other people won't take it to be as harmless as it truly is, and will probably judge, as you did, that some sort of engagement is taking place outside of my engagement, which could not be further from the truth and in telling people you will merely be arousing suspicions where none need to be aroused."
Ten looked so happy with the way that he had answered that that Annabelle almost hated to shoot him down. But her snort of derision gave the game away and she shrugged as he looked at her, pure disappointment on his face. Rose was doing a trademark Rose sulk, where she would say whatever to anything pull faces at everything and huff every so often so that people were aware of her presence. She always did it when people didn't give her what she wanted and Annabelle strongly suspected that she was used to people giving her what she wanted as a result of it. Judging by the look on Ten's face, he always did. Annabelle shot Rose a distinctly unimpressed look and returned her attention to Ten, who was at least behaving like an adult and realised that he needed to justify his actions, if not to her then to himself.
"Look," Ten sighed. "I'll admit that coming after Rose was a bad idea…"
"Oh thanks!" Rose spat, huffing.
"You know what," Annabelle felt really bad for Ten in that moment. "Why don't we talk about this somewhere else?"
"Why?" Rose interjected and Annabelle could see the relief drain from Ten's face. "Is there something you don't want to say in front of me?"
"No," Ten responded quickly. "It's just, I needed to see her one last time Annabelle, to catch up and see how she was hanging in there."
"You couldn't resist!" Annabelle informed him, choosing to ignore Rose completely. "You could not resist seeing her and seeing how things could be. You were willing to chase her halfway around the world and even now, you can't stop yourself from going after her. Do you love Martha Ten?"
"Of course I do," he replied defensively and Annabelle didn't need to be looking at Rose to know that she had just stiffened and pulled a face. "I love Martha, so much and I am marrying her. I just needed to see Rose and…"
Annabelle didn't say anything. She just looked at Ten, a mixture of sympathy and sadness. She was torn. She knew that Martha needed to know about that Ten was heading down a bad path. But he genuinely cared for Martha and didn't want to hurt her, that much was obvious. He was stuck in a web and he was the only person who could pull himself out of it. Annabelle knew what that was like, for she had been there herself. She wrapped an arm around Ten and smiled at him.
"Okay," she said quietly, so that Rose couldn't hear. "I won't say anything. But you won't make a liar of me David, so if anyone asks I will tell them the truth. And you have to get your head screwed on properly. Priorities Ten. If you truly love Martha, then you need to stop pretending that what's happening here is okay. Is friendly. You need to act like a man and either marry Martha or don't marry her, but don't string Rose along behind you, because we both know how she feels about you."
Ten didn't respond, but Rose pushed past Annabelle, grabbing his arm. Annabelle went to say something, but she could hear Rose slamming her bedroom door, sliding the lock into place. Annabelle sighed heavily, finished her meal and then went to bed.
Rose was fuming and Ten had long since realised then when Rose was in a bad mood, it was incredibly difficult to reason with her. Rose took deep breaths and Ten sipped on his tea, trying not to further anger the situation.
"She has some nerve," Rose snarled and Ten nodded. "I mean, I know Annabelle's been through a lot, we both have. And I thought we'd I dunno connected or something. But she was being so…judgemental," Rose sounded upset now rather than angry. "I mean, why does everyone assume the worst of me? Clara and the Doctor both told me to stay away from you. They all seem to think that I am going to mess things up for you and Martha and that's not what I want."
"Then what do you want Rose?" Ten asked her gently, though the question was as much aimed at himself as her. He knew why he was here, in his heart and he truthfully, didn't want to remind himself. He needed to get out, before he ended up destroying the best thing in his life. The Doctor and Clara might have thought the worst of them, but Ten wasn't entirely sure that they were unjustified in doing so.
"I want you," she replied, her voice quiet. "I want you to tell me the truth and I want to know if you still love me, the way that you used to. And then I want you to tell me that you feel that way about Martha, so that you know that you're with her for the right reasons."
Ten couldn't answer that. He had forgotten how angry he had been at her for leaving him, how much he had hated her for what she had done. Rose had left him high and dry, ran away from any commitment and left him to suffer alone. And Martha had been his salvation. She had cared for him in ways that Rose never could. She never made his blood boil the way Rose did, but that was both good and bad. Martha was safe, Martha was comfort and Martha would never run away if things got difficult.
"I love her in a different way to the way that I loved you," Ten replied, deflecting the question about his feelings for Rose, because he didn't have an answer. "But no less strongly. You are two very different people Rose and you give me very different things. I chose Martha a long time ago. You chose Mickey. I don't know what gives you the right to come back here and choose again."
"You didn't choose Martha," Rose replied, clearly hurt by his comment. "You chose me. Martha was your consolation prize. She gave you things that you thought you needed because I hurt you. You're scared to admit that you love me because of what happened last time. But I'm not going to run again. I'm here for you Ten, whatever you choose."
At this moment, she leaned in to kiss him and Ten snapped to reality.
"I'm engaged," he said coldly.
"So?" Rose's smile ignited the fire in his heart and he swore loudly, running his hands through his hair. "What is it going to be Ten? Me, or Martha?"
"Clara!" he shouted, rolling off the bed and taking out his phone. "I choose Clara. Because right now, she's the only human being on the planet that I want to talk to. Rose, I did love you, but this is wrong. I'm wrong. I should never have come here tonight. Please, don't come chasing after me and don't say anything to Martha."
"David," Rose said in a voice so soft that he turned back to her. "I wouldn't say anything to Martha. I would never forgive myself if I got in the way of something real between you and her. But the fact that you're here with me and not with her, doesn't that say something about your relationship?"
Ten paused for a moment before pulling out his phone and calling Clara. He left the house, Rose deciding not to follow.
"Hello? David?"
"Clara?" Ten took a deep breath. "Can we meet? I need help."
"You went to see Rose." It was a statement, not a question. Clara didn't sound angry, she sounded sad, and sympathetic, as though she had known in her heart that it was going to happen but that she was really hoping that Ten would be sensible enough to resist. In all honesty, Ten had been hoping that he would be sensible enough to resist. But he had thrown himself in at the deep end. And he knew it was a mistake. Because as much as he hated to admit it, Rose was his Achilles heel. Not matter how much she had hurt him, he couldn't stop himself from going after her, it was as if she had the pin code to his actions. And she was toxic. She brought out sides of him that he wasn't proud of. But she also made him feel alive, as if no part of him would ever feel dulled again.
Clara met him at a bar halfway between her house and Annabelle's and she promised him that she had said nothing to the Doctor. And they talked for hours. Ten was confused and angry and he didn't know what to do, but he knew that he loved Martha and that he wanted to marry her. Clara was sympathetic and she was kind, but she also told Ten exactly what he needed to hear. That Rose was at least partially right. He had to stop fucking around. He had to make a decision. Because if he was marrying Martha, Rose could not be a part of his life anymore. And he wasn't ready for that. Ten made a decision. He needed time.
*Tomorrow: The Doctor does a fist pump, Rose has a shower and Annabelle makes tea again. Plus some interesting stuff happens.*