Thank you all so much for the reviews :) And I'm sorry!

Chapter 24

"Are you nervous?" Clara giggled as she noticed the Doctor shifting next to her after she had rung the doorbell.

"Are you kidding me? Of course I am," he spat before he took a deep breath, "I'm about to meet your family."

Gently she reached for his hand and squeezed it in her own. "It's just tea," Clara tried to reassure him, "It'll all be fine."

The next moment the front door opened and the Doctor instinctively let go of her hand when her grandmother appeared in the doorway, wearing her brightest smile on her face.

"There you are," she said happily, "Come on in!"

Clara stepped inside, followed by a reluctant Doctor who turned towards her grandma as soon as they were in the living room. Her father and Linda apparently hadn't arrived yet and so the Doctor handed over the wrapped present he was holding under his arm.

"Clara told me that it was your birthday a few weeks ago. I'm sorry that I stole Clara away for that weekend and I hope I can make up for that with this."

"Oh, thank you," her grandmother said kindly, "But that weekend didn't really go according to plan anyway – you have nothing to worry about."

Clara had no idea what the Doctor had prepared for her grandmother and when she unwrapped her present Clara recognized one of the portraits he had painted of her. A simple one, showing Clara standing by the large window with a cup of coffee in her hand and a hint of a smile on her face.

"Oh, that is beautiful," her grandmother uttered happily, "Thank you very much. I know just the place to hang this."

Her grandmother turned towards the wall and held up the painting, trying to see how it would fit when the doorbell rang again before Clara even had the chance to give her grandmother her present.

"That'll be your father and Linda. Could you get that for me, please?"

The Doctor threw Clara a horrified glance but she only smiled in reply and left him alone with her grandmother to greet her father. He was still walking on crutches and Clara hugged him only gently before leading them both into the living room where the Doctor was now sitting on the sofa, looking utterly uncomfortable.

"Soooo," Clara took a deep breath, "Dad, Linda, this is the Doctor. I don't know if grandma has already mentioned him. We met at the painting class I'm taking."

The Doctor rose from the sofa again to greet her parents who didn't seem surprised at all by his presence. So her grandmother had told them and she wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. Suddenly Clara felt a hand on her arm.

"Clara, dear, could you help me prepare the cake in the kitchen?" her grandmother asked her kindly but there was something odd about her voice that she couldn't quite place.

Throwing the Doctor an apologetic look she followed her grandmother into the kitchen.

"So, how long have you two been together?" she asked Clara as soon as they were alone.

This wasn't about helping with the cake, this was an interrogation – and this time she couldn't just hang up or run away.

"It's recent. Very recent," Clara replied and reached for a knife to busy herself with cutting the cake.

"He is a good man, though, isn't her?" her grandma asked further, "He treats you well?"

"Grandma-"

"I just want to know, dear. You've always told me about the men in your life. That crazy Swedish boy, the teacher you were dating for a while. I'm just worried because you haven't mentioned him at all. And also – the Doctor – what sort of name is that?"

"His name is John Smith, if you need to know. The Doctor is just what he calls himself in the art world. It's like a nickname."

"Danny called me," her grandmother said, her voice grave.

"What?!" Clara blurted out. What was wrong with that guy to call her family and stick his nose where it had absolutely no business? "What did he do that for?"

Her grandma sighed. "He is worried about you. He said you completely dropped off the face of the earth since you met the Doctor. You're not going out with your friends anymore and he said you're very distracted in school. He thinks it's because of the Doctor and frankly, he started worrying me, too. I've hardly heard from you since you started that painting class."

"Danny isn't worried," Clara said, more loudly than she had intended to, "Danny is jealous! He still isn't over us and so he's trying to sabotage my new relationship! Have you considered that he might be the reason I'm not going out with the other teachers anymore?"

"That doesn't explain why you've never called or visited in the past few weeks."

"Is that true?"

Clara shot around to see the Doctor standing in the doorway. She wasn't sure what exactly he had heard but it seemed to have been enough.

"Clara, we love you and we just want to make sure you're not making a mistake," her grandmother said calmly.

She turned back towards her grandma. "This wasn't a nice invitation for tea," Clara said angrily, "This is an interrogation. Or an intervention. Either way, you can save your breath. I am fine and I'm leaving."

Clara darted out of the room, grabbed her jacket and left the house without saying another word, only vaguely aware of the Doctor uttering apologies behind her back and eventually trailing after her.

OOO

They sat down in a small café not far from her grandmother's house and Clara was still furious, even after the walk and ranting about Danny almost all the way. She just couldn't believe her family had done something like this, especially her grandmother. And above all she was mad at Danny for calling them when he had absolutely no right to do that.

"Doctor, I am so, so sorry," Clara apologized again, "I had no idea it would be like this."

"Yeah, they're not exactly wrong though, are they?" he spat, "Clara, I told you it was important that you're spending time with your friends and your family. I had no idea."

"I am spending time with them," she replied defensively, "It's just been a few crazy weeks, that's all."

He sighed.

"Doctor, I am serious about this. I've even made a new friend, all thanks to you. And frankly, my colleagues from school bore me to death. You can't be mad at me for not spending time with people I don't really like."

"I'm not mad, it's just-" his sentence broke off when he raised his head but the Doctor didn't look at her. He looked right past her and an expression of horror crossed his face.

"Doctor, what's wr-"

"You!" a woman shouted behind her and just when Clara was about to turn around to see who it might be the woman had appeared next to their table. It was one of the waitresses of the café, a blonde woman around 50 and she seemed angry. Furious even.

"You have some nerve showing your face in here!"

"I'm sorry," the Doctor apologized immediately. Clara thought she had never seen him so startled before, "I, uhm, I didn't know you work here. I'm sorry. We'll leave."

When the Doctor was beginning to rise from his chair and Clara was still a little baffled as to what was happening the woman turned to face her.

"New muse, huh?" she asked angrily, "You watch out, girl!"

"Jackie, please," the Doctor begged her quietly, "Let's not cause a scene."

"Not cause a scene, eh?" the woman apparently named Jackie shouted at him, "Why? Cause you're ashamed? Cause you know you're guilty? Because you killed my daughter?!"

This time the Doctor didn't reply anything and the woman spoke directly to Clara again.

"If you're smart you'll pack your bags and leave him before he kills you, too."

She could feel the Doctor's hand carefully wrapping around her own.

"I'm sorry, Jackie. I really, really am," he told her in a weak voice.

"Yeah, you keep saying that," the woman yelled, "But your apologies won't give me my daughter back!"

"Come on, Clara," he said in a low voice, obviously trying very hard to remain calm even though his hand was shaking, "We're leaving."

He half dragged her out of the café and it seemed as if he was taking his first breath in minutes as soon as they were outside. The Doctor looked devastated and very eager to leave this place behind but Clara had no intention of just letting it go.

"Doctor, what happened in there? Who was that woman?" she demanded to know, "What happened to her daughter?"

"Please," the Doctor begged, "Please, don't ask. I can't talk about her."

He let go of her and buried his face in his hands. If he had been devastated before the Doctor was now looking desperate.

"Did you really kill her?"

Finally the Doctor looked back at her through his tears. He was crying and there were so many emotions in his expression that Clara couldn't tell what he would do next. She just saw his guilt, his shame, his grief and his fear.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "But Jackie is right. You should leave me while you still can. Before I kill you, too."

And then, with no further warning, the Doctor just turned around and started walking away and for once Clara lacked the energy to go after him.