Maybe the aching would stop one day. Maybe pigs would fly. Though that wasn't a particularly good analogy on a planet where there were, in fact, creatures that resembled flying pigs. But who was he kidding, Jack thought as he took another drink from the first glass of the night. The first of many. It would never get better. Everyone he had lost would remain etched in his heart. But there were too many etchings. Names had been carved within names. And with Tosh and Owen added to the collection, there was no more room. Not for when Ianto and Steven died. And that was when it broke. Simply shattered. Now there was a gaping hole where his heart should have been. Jack Harkness took another drink.