He sat, head in his hands, and wished for something more. The lamps outside the window were lit, illuminating the dusty room for what it was- dirty and decayed. Whiskey scorched his already sore throat, burning trails and it fell through his body like fire dancing around his hearts. Pain was good. It helped him to feel at all.

A slight wince warped his features as he accepted another belt from the barman and threw it back. He knew he had been screaming in his sleep again, screaming for her although the acknowledgment did not solve anything. The realisation that there was nobody there to calm him did not make him cry at the darkness anymore. He was numb to it now. Numb to everything except the nightmares that roamed his mind, torturing him with a life which was now impossible.

He wanted her back in his arms. Wanted the rush of warmth as he held her against his chest, the beating of their hearts becoming intertwined as she pressed her cheek to his. Her smile, her laugh. He wanted the exhilarating feeling of her hand in his and the wind rushing through his hair as they ran for what seemed like forever. He wanted to take her to mountaintops and beaches and forests. He wanted to spend the rest of his life by her side and die with her, old and happy.

But she was gone now. Lost to the cruelty of time.

And there was no going back.

He staggered from the bar, pushing open the door with his dumbed senses and feeling his way down the street. It was snowing, fat flakes of ice falling from the sky and soaking him to the bone. Although the cold was almost painful, the feeling felt good against his rugged face as he tilted his head towards the sky. He used to love the snow, but all concepts of love were gone from him now, dragged screaming into the abyss. His hands found the rough wood of the police box and a feeling of anxiousness came over him, as it always did before he entered. The gentle rising of hope that she may be inside, that she would come running to him and throw him backwards. A hope which was too tender to rise and too feeble to believe in, but a hope which kept him going.

The key scraped the lock and welcomed the familiar click of his front door. He nudged his weight against it and paused, with baited breath, before he stepped inside.

Silence. Although her scent still lingered slightly in the air he knew that he was alone. He could sense that the beating of his hearts was the only sound that resonated through the room. A sigh tumbled from his lips and his eyes closed against the darkness as he began the long haul down the corridor towards his room and the darkening void that was sleep.

He was alone.

And the silence was breaking his hearts.