âYes,â Gwen spoke carefully with her eyes averted. Being honest without saying too much was the tactic sheâd been using with Rhys lately. It wasnât entirely fair, but it was a start and better than the lies she could have given. As a hesitant afterthought, she added, âTheyâre friends of mine.â From there, Anwen was free to assume whether Gwen had befriended Owen and Ianto after their arrival or had something more casual with them back home.
This was not only a civil conversation but a nice one between mother and daughter. Gwen meant no harm by not volunteering any more information than Anwen directly asked for, because the girl herself had made it clear she didnât want to know more about her motherâs past or the worldâs future than was necessary. It was better that way.
Gwen sipped casually at her tea and managed a genuine smile when Anwen joined her. From there, she didnât hesitate to pick up a fork and dish a generous helping of each food onto her plate. She had half a sausage in her mouth by the time she realised what Anwenâs emphasis implied. She wasnât just observant of the new rooms: she was interested; and, when the explanation was finally done, Gwen failed to hide her initial reaction, which held equal parts of shock and relief.
âI wish youâd told us, butâŚâ she stalled. Sheâd given better answers with a gun to her head. Incredibly, this was more of a challenging. It meant finding a balance between being a friend and being a mother whilst thinking she didnât have much a right to act as either. âItâs not exactly a dorm room at Uni, but, itâs nice,â she managed it finally and then the unwelcome concern hit and she spoke this time without really meaning to, âWhat made you decide to?â âWhat made you leave Amyâs?â was the real implication, but she wouldnât press if Anwen didnât want to answer.
âFriends?â Anwen raised her eyebrows slightly as she took a bite of hash brown. âYou mean, you mean you knew them before you got stuck in this place?â Were these two guys part of that...alien-hunter organisation that Gwen was a part of?
âSorry,â Anwen said, feeling slightly guilty about not telling her parents about her room change sooner. She was hit by a twinge of sadness when Gwen compared the rooming arrangements to a dorm at university. Anwen didnât like to think about the things she was missing back at home.
She really didnât want to answer Gwenâs question. She wasnât sure how to do it without showing Amy in a bad light, which was the last thing she wanted to do. âI, um...â Anwen began as she put a slice of eggy bread onto her plate, âI donât know, I just felt like I was overstaying my welcome. Itâs not fair for Amy and Rory to be sleeping in separate rooms because of me. And then when more rooms appeared, there really wasnât any reason to stay with Amy anymore if I could have my own room.
ââMorning,â Gwen echoed. There was no real indication of just how long Anwen had been kept waiting, but the food still smelled great and she seemed to be in a good mood. âI did,â she answered honestly and then grinned when she saw the chance to inject some humour. âNext time you canât sleep, just make a blog post complaining about it and then wait a bit.â
Dragging her usual chair up to the island, Gwen paused just long enough to process some mixed feelings about being in the kitchen often enough to have a usual seat, before she settled and motioned towards the tea Anwen had offered. âI can if itâs just a little, mainly since Iâve switched to decaf.â
Normally, a drink without caffeine was not worth the effort of even picking up the mug to sip at, but sheâd found a reliable and worthwhile source: another old newly-resurrected friend who might talk and get Anwen a little closer to the truth about Torchwood, whether she wanted it or not. Of all the dangers she faced, a few facts from her past should not have looked so bad; but sheâd nearly lost Rhys due to her habitual lying. At times, she was truly afraid.
âSome new people have shown up,â she said in a careful attempt at starting conversation. It was the closest she could to get to asking if Anwen had met Owen or Ianto without having to provide a name; but that reminded her of another small issue. She hinted at this one vaguely as well: âSome new bedrooms too.â
At Gwenâs reassurance, Anwen handed her the mug and then went back to the counter to fix some of tea for herself.
When Gwen mentioned the new Pocket residents, Anwen replied, âRight, I think I saw something about that on the blogs. They were...well, there were two guys. I think. Am I right?â
She wondered if Gwenâs ânew bedroomsâ prompt was less of a random conversation starter and more of a way to get an update on the whole roommate situation. âIâve definitely noticed that change,â she said as she brought the three different plates (one for the eggy bread, one for the hash browns, and one for the sausages) off of the stove and onto the center of the counter island that Gwen was sitting at. Anwen then grabbed her tea mug and brought that to the island as well, where she finally sat down and began to put some hash browns on her own plate with her fork (both of which were pre-set on her place-mat, just like the plate and silverware that were already set on Gwenâs).
âActually, I um...sorry I didnât tell you before, but I didnât think it was that big of a deal...I moved into one of the new rooms. An empty one, of course.â Anwen glanced up slightly, wanting to gauge Gwenâs reaction before continuing.
The funny (and very convenient) thing about pregnancy was that it meant Gwen could eat, sleep, and complain as much as she liked, but now, particularly into her third trimester, no one could fault her for it. Of course there were pains and worries to contend with. A few restless hours in bed wasnât even the worst of it- although it was the easiest ailment to discuss and probably the only one sheâd mention if her daughter asked again.
When Rhysâ suggestion worked and the full nightâs sleep actually helped, Gwen actually woke up smiling. For once, it was her own stomach rather than the baby that demanded attention. Sheâd planned to have breakfast with her daughter and, yes, thankfully, it would involve food. Anwen may or may not have inherited her fatherâs skill in the kitchen. It was such a sweet gesture that Gwen didnât think sheâd complain either way. It would also give them a chance to talk about some very important things.
She exhaled with something a little too cheerful to be a yawn and moved to dress carefully. She was working a comb through her hair by the time it occurred to her to check the time. A slight rush of dread passed through her when her mobile confirmed that it was closer to noon than any respectable breakfast time, but the lack of missed calls or concerned messages had to be a good sign. Gwen ambled from her room up towards the shipâs kitchen, with a dozen apologies ready to go, but with a reassuring grin on her face anyways just as she walked in, hoping to find Anwen waiting.
Anwen figured that Gwen wouldnât be up bright and early (which she was grateful for, as she wasnât too keen on getting up at six to start cooking) so she planned on having the meal of eggy bread, hashbrowns and sausages ready at about eleven.
It turned out that Gwen arrived closer to noon than two eleven, but it wasnât a huge issue; Anwen kept the food warm on the stove as she waited. Finally the door opened and Anwen turned to face it. âGood morning,â Anwen greeted as her mother walked in the kitchen door. âDid you sleep well?â
She took one of the two mugs that she had prepared and filled it with tea. âOh, wait,â Anwen paused suddenly, looking from the mug to her mother. âAre you even allowed to drink tea? I mean, with all the caffeine and everything...sorry, I donât know the rules.â She gave her mother a sheepish smile.
Itâs the same kind of nerves, but at least I donât have to do maths. Well, aside from trying to guess the due date. Iâm thinking I might take bets on it.
Yeah. Iâm sorry. Thereâs not a lot to do.
Not now. We should both try to rest soon, but howâs tomorrow?
Iâm okay. Just tired. I guess thatâs just not enough to sleep, but tired and thinking. Do you remember how it felt when you took A levels? Just like that.
Summary: Anwen finds Rory to express her concerns about Amy.
Anwen walked down the hallway to Room 5, where she knew Rory was staying. Hesitantly, she knocked on the door and hoped that he'd answer. Anwen took a deep breath as she waited for a response; she was not looking forward to this conversation in the slightest. She didn't want to intrude on Amy and Rory's personal business, but Anwen felt like she had an obligation to the man to relay her concerns about Amy.
Rory gave up looking for Paisley, figuring out that River must have taken him again. Seriously, how did they manage to find a place to hide so often on that ship without going below deck? While sending a quick text to River, he made his way down to his bedroom, figuring they would both turn up eventually before dinner. When he rounded the corner by the stairs, he stopped when he saw Anwen standing outside his door. His first thought was to let her know she had the wrong room before realizing how rude that was and then realizing she was probably there for a reason and his stomach twisted with worry. "Hey, Anwen." He waved, trying to sound casual though the concern was already seeping through his voice. "What's up? You alright?"
Anwen flushed in embarrassment when she saw Rory coming around the corner. She gave him a small wave in response to his greeting. "Hi! Sorry, I -- um -- didn't know you were out." Anwen swallowed and then continued. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks. I was just wondering if...uh...if I could talk to you for a moment. I mean, unless you're busy, I can come back later," Anwen added with a nervous smile, not wanting to disturb him if he was in the middle of something.
Rory shook his head and waved his hand, silently telling her it was alright as he moved past her to open the door, peaking inside first to check that River wasn't in the room, though he knew she was off somewhere with Paisley. "We can talk now, come on in. What's up?" He asked her, casting her with his concerned gaze as he sat on the edge of his bed and pointed for her to sit too if she'd like.
Anwen followed Rory into his room and shyly took a seat next to him on his bed. "I, uh...I wanted to let you know that...I-I know that this is really none of my business, but..." Anwen took a breath and met Rory's gaze before continuing. "I'm worried about Amy."
Rory took note of Anwen's behavior and frowned more deeply, and then when she finally said what she was there for he felt his heart clench tightly in his chest. He had noticed quite a bit from Amy that made him worry too, and he'd been internally warring with himself whether to cut in and say something to her every time he watched her start a (mostly) pointless fight with someone on the blogs, but figured it wouldn't solve anything, so so far he'd kept his mouth shut. But he had to press for more from the girl anyway. "Why's that?"
Anwen shook her head. She thought carefully before speaking again. "I've just, uh, noticed some...things..." she continued, "...things that made me think that she...that she's not feeling very well. I don't know what's wrong, but she's just been acting strange, and...and I wanted to let you know." Anwen knew she was being extremely vague, but felt more comfortable allowing Rory to ask for details rather than going into everything all at once. She looked down at the floor, her cheeks going red, and waited for a response.
Rory lowered his head, listening intently to Anwen's ... very vague and unhelpful answer. "What's she doing that makes you think she's not feeling well? Like properly sick or?" He prodded, shifting on the bed so that he was more directly facing her, trying to get her to open up a bit more.
Anwen bit down on her lip. "No, not...not properly sick. At least I don't think so. But I know something's wrong." She thought carefully about how to continue, and ultimately decided that she'd better start off lightly. Picking at the blanket on Rory's cot, she began again. "She's been...skipping meals, for one thing. A lot. I know it isn't normal for her because she never did this when we were in that town -- she was always reminding âmeâ to eat, actually, when I was...um...upset about my dad disappearing." Anwen was extremely uncomfortable talking about Amy in that way; it felt almost like Anwen was a kid tattling on a friend who misbehaved. "But, um...that's not the most worrying thing I wanted to tell you."
Rory wasn't sure whether he was relieved or more worried to here that the cause for Anwen's worry wasn't from an actual illness like the flu or anything. On the one hand, she wasn't dying- and that was great. But what was wrong was quite possibly deeper than an everyday flu and he knew he was part to blame for that and a huge amount of guilt sat deep in his gut. Maybe if he'd paid more attention or had just been easier on her about everything that had been bothering him then she'd be okay. But instead he'd been so bitter and angry that he'd been ignoring all of the warning signs that she wasn't. Like the fact that she'd been holing herself away from everyone. That wasn't Amy, and Rory knew that. Amy always went head first into things and thought about it later and she was never really considered shy either. When Anwen spoke up again, Rory was drawn out of his train of thought, and for a moment he'd forgotten that she was even still there. "What's that?" He asked, half afraid of the answer, half thinking he might already know.
Anwen knew that there was no going around it anymore. She cringed slightly before admitting, "She's been hiding a bottle of something -- I'm not sure what -- in our room. Maybe there's more than one. Some nights I smell wine and some I smell vodka. At -- at first I she'd go out at night and come back a bit -- erm -- out of it, but she doesn't leave our room much anymore and somehow she still gets completely plastered by midnight." Anwen shifted uncomfortably. "She'sâŚshe's sick some nights, and tells me later that it's just seasickness. I don't believe her." Anwen began to pick at some skin around her nails before continuing, her voice slightly hoarse, "And a few days ago, whenâŚI'm sure you sawâŚwhen she was talking to my mum through the blogs, I umâŚI came into our room not long after she posted some of those things and she was crying. Really hard, too. I felt so terrible for her; she was holding onto the sink in our bathroom -- for balance, I think -- and was just sobbing. I asked her what was wrong and she looked so embarrassed and said something about how she was just missing home. I-I don't believe that that's true, either. After that she's been acting so strange around me and I can tell she's been drinking more, too, andâŚ" She blinked, trying to hold back a few tears of guilt, "âŚI can't help but think that some of this is my fault. My mum and dad said that I could move back in with them and I'm going to as soon as possible. I don't want to be a nuisance for Amy, not after everything she's done for me, and I never wanted to keep you two from each other, either." Anwen swallowed. "IfâŚif you don't mind me saying, Rory, I really hope you move back in with Amy as soon as you can. I don't know what's going on but she needs some help and she needs you."
Rory sucked in a breath, and looked away from Anwen to stare at River's empty bed as he processed everything that she said and tried not to let his emotions show too much. It was clear that Anwen was obviously upset and he didn't blame her. It wasn't exactly an ideal situation for the girl and a part of him - though small at the moment due to the worry and pain in his heart about his wife winning out- was upset that she had to be subjected to that in the first place. When he opened his mouth the first time, his voice caught in the back of his throat and he quickly covered it up with a cough. He needed time to think, to process and figure out what he should do. The guilt that had been growing since the start of this conversation was overwhelming to say the least and it only just kept getting worse. "First- Anwen," he started, once he found his voice again, tearing his gaze away from River's bed. "None of this is your fault, okay? I mean that genuinely." He told her, searching her eyes to make sure that she was listening and hopefully believing him. "Second, I think you moving back with your parents is a good idea. Great actually. I know your mum will be happy to have you back." He paused to offer a genuine smile, that he only half way had to force. "Thank you for talking to me, I really do appreciate it. If there's ever anything else you need to talk about or have concerns over, my door's always open. And you have my number." He sucked in a breath and bit down on bottom lip, glancing at the door. "If you want to stay in here a bit, that's okay. But I'm going to go for a bit of a walk. I've got some things to think about."
Hmm. Now that is curious. Maybe you could think me up some novels I wouldnât be embarrassed to assign to my students? Iâd settle for a good mystery.Â
Iâve got a hunch about that. If Iâm right it probably makes sense the things Iâd actually like to keep myself occupied with havenât seemed to show up. Weâve got a complicated relationship the - uh - hunch and I. It would also explain why, no matter how many times I dispose of it, The Time Travelerâs Wife ends up on my bunk. Cow.Â
TAGGING: Rory Williams, River Song, Gwen Cooper, Rhys Williams, John Smith, The Master, Toshiko Sato, Mycroft Holmes, Sam Winchester, Anwen Williams, Irene Adler, Clara Oswald, The Doctor, Dean Winchester, Eve, Esther Drummond, Danny Pink, Donna Noble, and Rex Matheson.Â
TIME FRAME: July 11th, evening
LOCATION: The room below deck with bullet holes in the door.
GENERAL NOTES: The people of the Pocket attend a party with no idea what to expect. Several uninvited guests show up, some traditional Earth ballads are shared, the Pocket is alternatively cruel and kind, and Tony the Tiger makes things not so grrreat. Â
TAGGING: Rhys Williams, Gwen Cooper, Anwen Williams
TIME FRAME: June 30, dinner time.
LOCATION: The Kitchen aboard the ship.
GENERAL NOTES: Gwen and Rhys sit down in the kitchen to have dinner when Anwen walks in. Rhys finds out sheâs his daughter and he surprisingly takes it well.
What's the point of being eighteen if you can't have a bash? You're invited to one helluva party below decks (look for the door with bulletholes). Free flow of alcohol, pink flamingos in a pool, and maybe someone to carry you home that night? Just don't do anything that you wouldn't want your parents to find out about (you never know, they might be there too, partying like it's 1999.)
Well, I canât resist a party thatâs got pink flamingos, can I? And Iâm curious to see how a ship can have a pool on it. Though the whole âdoor with bulletholesâ part is just the tiniest bit off-putting.
Um, as long as everyone else is going â Iâve seen the other invitations â then I guess itâll be safe to go.Â
Okay â whoâs hoarding the good books? Just finished my seventh re-read of The Time Travelerâs Wife which is a shame seeing as I wasnât exactly keen on it the first go round. Whereâs the Faulkner? Or Hemingway? Somebody point me in the direction of Danteâs Divine Comedy  or Austenâs Pride and Prejudice â and do it quick before I spontaneously combust out of boredom.Â
Iâm afraid Iâm in the same boat -- no pun intended. I wish this ship at least had a library, given how long weâve been here.
But a few days ago I found a book on Monet, which is incredibly weird for a pirate ship and even weirder given that I like to paint and Monetâs one of my favourite artists...Â
You know how this place supplies us with all the clothes and food we need? Iâm wondering if itâs starting to do that with things to keep us busy too. Iâm trying not to think too hard about it because itâs bloody creepy.
I suppose you just get used to everything, thereâs nothing new to discover - although, Iâm sure that canât be true. You do have a point there - we all had our own space. Sadly, weâre just going to have to get used to what we were given.Â
I donât think so. Iâm Toshiko, nice to meet you.
Thatâs true, Â I just hope we donât have to keep getting used to this much longer -- as mad as it sounds, I miss the town we were in before. I mean, compared to this ship.
Toshiko, right. Nice to meet you too. Uh, how long have you been in this place?
âThank you,â was the easiest thing to say. Gwen had given the offer in the first place to help Anwen feel not only needed, but important. She wouldnât exactly just put her to work, but it was nice to know she had someone to depend on and share with. Their little family was far from perfect but they could stick together and they could heal. âOh, God,â Gwen laughed in spite of herself when she felt her own eyes start to water. She rubbed at them but kept her smile firmly in place for Anwenâs sake.Â
âThree months, yeah,â she echoed the question but phrased it as an affirmative. âWould have been maybe three weeks before all that rain started.â Gwen caught herself too late to consider that her daughter would have no interest in the exact date or details of the new babyâs conception, but it was something sheâd only recently considered herself. Thankfully, she could always count on Jack to be a good change of subject. âHe is,â Gwen promised. She was poised to explain that she trusted Jack with her life and had, in fact, put him in charge of looking out for her children if anything happened to her; but his role as Anwenâs godfather summarised that in a happier light and Gwen was content to go with a simpler explanation, âHeâs a good man.âÂ
In truth, she hadnât expected Anwen to ask anything about her âdoctorâ. Sheâd felt safe using the general term because it technically covered almost everyone who knew about her pregnancy- alien Doctors and medical professionals alike. It wasnât as if she and Rory had done anything shameful, but sheâd asked him to keep this secret for her so dropping his name now would do more harm than good. âSort of complicated,â she spun a white lie. âI dunno what else to call him, but heâs lookinâ out for me and the little one.âÂ
Anwenâs reaction to her touch this time was a lot more promising than the face sheâd made when Gwen first sat down with her. It made her feel a little more at ease and it told her they could do this. Anwen might not show it in the same obvious way, but she clearly had her parentsâ strength and resolve. Even more relieved when the next point shared was only some minor disbelief, Gwen let her grin widen into something warmer. âI was an only child. I dunno what to tell you.â She laughed too, in spite of everything, and it felt great.Â
And, because she had to, Gwen quickly redirected, âListen, Iâve got to lie down for a bit. Itâs nothing, just the nausea coming back. But I want to check on you later. Iâd like it if we can talk more, so youâre ready when we get off the ship and we can move. Does that sound good? Is that okay?âÂ
Anwen found Gwenâs description of her âdoctorâ somewhat unusual, though she couldnât put her finger on why. Maybe because she never revealed the manâs (so it was a man, was that weird for a sort of...pregnancy doctor?) identity. Maybe Anwen was just overthinking this. Gwen had a right to privacy.
âI think Iâll like havinâ a sibling. But being nearly twenty years older than them will take some getting used to.â Anwenâs smile grew, just like her motherâs did, and was glad to hear Gwen laugh. There was something about her motherâs laugh that was comforting -- like it was impossible to hold a frown while hearing it.
Anwenâs eyes widened in concern when Gwen said that she needed to lie down. âOh, uh, okay. You sure you donât need any...er...help?â Anwen wasnât sure what she could possibly help with if Gwen was laying down, but she just supposed sheâd make the offer just in case. âYou can also just lay on Amyâs bed if you like. Iâm sure she wonât mind.âÂ
Anwen nodded when Gwen said that they would talk later. âThat sounds good,â she said. âIâll see you later. And, uh, text me if you want me to bring you water or some food. Or anything, really. Let me know.â
