Gazing down, she scrunched her bare toes in the soft grass. It was wet with the pooled droplets of the recent rain, much like the garden bench upon which she was seated. She felt the damp seeping through her pajamas and the underwear beneath, but she did not stir.

She could no more have returned to slumber than he could cross the void.

Closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, she savored the fresh scent of wet earth mixed with the sweet fragrance of her mother's flower beds. Slowly, she turned her face towards the sky and opened her eyes.

Night stretched above her vast and mysterious, teasing her with the promise of space and time. Each glimmering star seemed to twinkle meanly, each flash reminding her of what she lost and would never reclaim. And in the middle of it all loomed the full moon, so close that she could count the number of craters that pockmarked its face. It blazed in the heavens, a beacon that tugged insistently at some part of her soul.

She shivered and wrapped each hand around a slat in the bench. Her grip tightened as the sensation swamped through her again, millions of ants marching just beneath her skin.

Idly, she thought she would be used to this by now. It had been nearly a year since they had parted company, and ever since then she found herself driven to confront the full moon, every hair on her body standing on end. In those early days she wondered if this was him trying to get through, trying to come back to her. Her fanciful eyes would gaze at the heavens looking for small blue twinkles, and her heart would leap with excitement each time she found one.

As time relentlessly passed, she understood her hope was a vain one. She no longer desperately searched for blue twinkles in the night sky. Hopefulness morphed into resignation, and now when she faced-off with the moon she was more resolute and determined than heart-broken.

Emotions had no substance; they were ethereal wisps of the soul, not tangible things like bodies. Though the universe may not allow either of them to physically cross the dimensions, she was convinced it would allow her to send him a message. Life, while not perfect here in Pete's world, was okay. She desperately wanted to reassure him that she was alright, and doing her best to make him proud.

More importantly, she wanted to know that he, too, was alright.

Closing her eyes, she turned her focus inward and gathered all her reassurance and love for him into her hands. In her mind's eye her feelings for him coalesced into a warm ball of blinding golden energy, and into this she fed all her wishes and hopes – that he was not alone, that he found someone to stand by him, and, most importantly, that he was happy.

The ball of energy grew with each addition, her hands soon unable to contain it. She worked quickly, forming it into an arrow, gleaming like the sun. When it was complete, she shot it straight into the bejeweled fabric of the night sky, willing it to pierce the void and find him on the other side.

She could see it streaming through the heavens, a long golden tail trailing behind. Though she never looked down, she knew without question that the end of that tail was tied directly to her heart.

Most nights she would watch the arrow fly higher and higher until colliding with something solid. She would trace its fall as closely as she traced its ascent, and she always winced with pain each time the message returned to coil dejectedly around her heart. On those nights, she'd slink back to her bed; shoulders slumped, she'd burrow into the covers and cry herself to sleep.

Still her hope was undaunted, and she fervently wished that tonight would be different.

She watched the missile with anxious glowing eyes, following the projectile as it sliced a gleaming arc across the sky. It struck the barrier. The resistance was tangible, a solid wall designed to keep her and the Doctor apart, and she held her breath. Spots danced before her eyes and just when she thought she would spend yet another night in tears, she felt something give.

No more than a slight dent in the barrier between realities, she focused on that one spot, pushing and pushing until, finally, her arrow poked the tiniest of holes. Her will darted through the howling bringing light into the darkness, illuminating creatures that knew only the nothingness of the void.

Barrier after barrier bent to her will, her arrow stringing world after world like a child making a popcorn chain at Christmas. Soon she felt the other end of her heart line anchor itself somewhere on the other side. It was only then she allowed herself to breathe. She had done it. Her message of love and hope had been successfully forced through the void, and she knew deep within her heart that he would receive that warmth and know from whom it had come.

Her soul leapt for joy; she felt unfettered and free. Jumping to her feet, she raised her hands to the sky and smiled. Giving in to her jubilation she pirouetted and howled her victory at the moon.

Tonight she stepped confidently back to her bed, her spine straight and proud. Tonight, when the rush of victory lessened and she reached for slumber, she was smiling.