The side table didn't feel like enough. He went over to the table with the tea set on it and threw that aside, too, watching each of the fine cups pop and shatter against the hardwood floor. The table went next, splintering as he threw it aside.

He stood there and took a few calming breaths. He wanted to destroy more. He wanted to destroy enough so that it stopped hurting. His eyes were burning.

"Yeah, and she ended up dying for it," the Doctor said. "And I never knew."