Thank you for the sweet reviews! Sorry to be breaking your heart at the moment, but I'm sure I can make up for that later ;)

Chapter 13

John watched Missy closely while she inspected the letter, her eyebrows rising the further she read and he got the distinct feeling that his friend wouldn't be of much help in this case either. He felt glad that Missy was around, that he had at least one person he could rely on, one familiar face that he recognized. Missy had been there since their childhood days and if John could trust one person it was her.

"Nope, sorry," she replied after a while and threw the letter onto his bed, "I have no idea what this is about. You never mentioned it to me."

With a sign John reached for the letter and glanced at it one more time, maybe hoping that he would finally realize what it was about - but that didn't happen. It was the same, old, confusing letter that he had looked at for two days.

"How are you feeling?" Missy enquired after watching him for a moment.

How was he feeling? That was a very good question.

"I don't know," he admitted wearily, "Confused. Mostly."

"Well, I kind of already suspected that. You have the last 5 years of your life to catch up on," she replied, the tone of her voice a little too cheerful for the situation. John got the impression that she treated his condition as a bit of a joke or a nuisance or both.

"I thought," he hesitated, "I thought you might be able to help me with that. Fill in some gaps. Answer some questions."

"I thought Clara has already been here."

Clara. Everything connected with her was so strange, so weird. She was a truly lovely woman and nothing if not nice, but John just didn't know her.

"She was," he said after a long moment, "She showed me photos. Told me about us."

"So you know what happened in the past five years. Or at least a rough outline of it and while we're on the subject," Missy said, "Since you've currently forgotten why you hired him - you need to fire your receptionist."

"Why?" John frowned at her.

"Because he's an imbecile," she replied with a shrug, "I tried to call you at the office before I went on holiday and he gave me a big, long speech about how I deserve some rest. I fell asleep eventually, so I have no idea what conclusions he drew in the end."

John rolled his eyes at her. "I'm not gonna fire an employee that I don't even know or remember hiring."

"Fine," Missy spat, "Suit yourself."

"About Clara," he began carefully.

His friend looked back up at him, eyeing him expectantly. "What about her?"

"That's what I was gonna ask you. I mean, I know she's my wife, but-"

"No but," she replied vehemently, "She's your wife and you love her."

"I don't even know her," John argued defensively, shifting in his seat. His leg stung a bit inside the heavy cast and right now he couldn't wait to finally get rid of it, even if it meant walking on a cane for a few more weeks.

"Yes, so you'll have to get to know her again," Missy said, waving her hand around in a dismssive gesture. She sounded annoyed again. "I am seriously mad at you, John. I helped you meet her, I helped you two get together. What more do I have to do to make you happy?"

"Missy," John growled in reply, "I had an accident. It's not like I chose to forget about my wife."

"Same outcome." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned back in her chair. "Talk to Clara. You will find all your answers there."

"Not this one." John raised the letter in his hand to show her. "It says I wanted to talk to Clara about something after our anniversary, which means the conversation never took place, so Clara doesn't know. Who would I just give £5000 to? It makes no sense. I thought that maybe I was cheating-"

"You weren't cheating," Missy said and when John glared at her, trying to ask how she could be so sure about that, she laughed and went on to replied before he could even ask. "Clara is your everything. You would never do anything to hurt her. To be fair, you two were almost disgustingly in love."

"People keep saying that and yet it doesn't help me at all!" John spat angrily, "I don't remember. It doesn't matter how many photos she shows me or how many people tell me how much I love her, I have never seen her before I woke up!"

He took a long, deep, desperate breath. Missy was his best friend. John had thought that if someone would understand, it would be her. But apparently he had been wrong.

"Missy, you know me better than anyone else. You know how I am. You know how long it takes me to warm up to people and Clara-" he broke off, sighing, "She will expect things of me. The way she looks at me with her big, sad eyes. She expects me to be her husband. I can't do that."

Missy pouted at him.

"How am I supposed to live with her, Missy? In a strange house, with a strange woman?"

"John, honest question," she said and looked straight at him, "Do you like her?"

"That's not the p-"

"That's very much the point, so do you?" she pressed.

John hesitated because he hated to admit it. He did like her and how could he not? Clara hadn't done anything to make him dislike her. She was nice and lovely and absolutely pretty to look at. "Yes," he admitted eventually.

"Good," Missy concluded and leaned back in her seat, "Because I didn't give her your number for no reason. When she walked into the shop with her computer problem I felt it. I knew she'd be perfect for you, so just go to her and fall in love again."

John opened his mouth to protest, to tell Missy that it wasn't nearly as easy as she made it sound when suddenly there was a knock on he door and Dr Jones entered just a moment later.

"Oh, am I interrupting?" she asked when she noticed Missy sitting next to his bed.

His friend rose from her seat instantly. "Not at all, dear. I was about to leave. Suitcases to unpack and all of that stuff," she pointed at Dr Jones, "You do what you can to patch him up, yeah? He gets grumpy when he's confined to his bed."

Martha Jones cracked a light smile. "So I've noticed and I have good news about that," she announced, "I think we can discharge you tomorrow."

"Really?" John asked in surprise. Technically he had been ready to go home yesterday, but he wasn't sure whether he was actually keen to leave the hospital. What they meant when they said "home" was a strange place to him, one he hadn't even seen except on photos. Clara would be there and it would be strange.

"Yes, as long as you don't overdo it I see no reason to keep you here any longer. Your leg will heal and maybe the familiar surroundings will trigger those memories to come back a little sooner."

John exhaled sharply as he leaned back against his pillow. He would have to get used to the idea now, wouldn't he?