At night, she stands on the balcony outside her bedroom and dreams of falling.
She can still feel the rush of air to her lungs, the adrenalin coursing through her body, the desperate need to cling on for her life.
She always falls anyway, no matter how much she tries to imagine holding on just a few seconds longer.
Now, she stands on that balcony and looks up to the sky all-wrong and pretends that the air she breathes in so deeply is the same air he breathes. She pretends that she will wake up the next morning and it will all have been a dream. She pretends that, somehow, the Doctor will come find her, that, by some miracle, he will show up on her doorstep or save her from a group of rabid mannequins, just like the first time.
Hell, she even pretends that she never even met the Doctor in the first place.
But no matter how much pretending she does—no matter how much she tries to act as if her wounded heart will heal—she cannot erase the feeling that she doesn't belong here: she has no place in this world, where things are the same, but they aren't, not really, because the one person who ever really meant anything is gone and she's just not whole. No amount of wishing can make her mum or Mickey or her resurrected father ever quite enough.
That thought scares her because she's sure it's unhealthy to need someone so completely, but what scares her more is the awareness her fading memories. She spends her days worrying over the vanishing sound of his laughter in his ears and his look of concentration in her eyes.
She wonders, horrified, when he will become nothing more than a dusty box of forgotten recollections in the farthest corner of her mind.
She lies on her bed and lets these thoughts chase each other round and round her head. It hurts to move. Worse than that—it hurts to merely be.
This is not what the Doctor would have wanted for her, but her Doctor is not here, and she can't bring herself to care what he might have wanted.
Into the night, she whispers big, Bad secrets to the stars and begs salvation from the Universe.