Lost Loves
River lay besides her husband. He was lying rigidly on their bed, staring unblinkingly up out of the glass ceiling of their bedroom. She wanted more than anything just to reach out and touch him, to feel his baby soft skin beneath her fingers, to listen to the mismatched beating of his hearts beneath her head. She missed the way his long arms, always surprisingly strong, would wrap themselves protectively, possessively around her, holding her to him, making her feel safe, and warm. She missed the way that he looked at her, like she was the most spectacular, most magnificent phenomenon that he had ever encountered.
He looked unutterably sad, lying alone, gazing hopelessly up at the stars that they had named together, hugging her old battered diary safely to his chest. He presented a brave face to the world, to Clara, to Vastra and Jenny, and to Strax, but when he was alone, his defences would weaken, and his mask would crack.
She reached out, her fingertips not inches from his face, tracing the air above it. A single tear escaped the corner of his old eye and slid slowly down the side of his face.
"I miss you," he whispered. River felt her heart constrict in her chest, sorrow threatening to choke her as he curled up on his side, facing away from her, hugging her diary closer to his chest.
"I miss you too sweetie."