Rose and her Doctor lay in the grass. Stars gleamed above them. The world was lit by a full moon, shining down from the skies they so often traveled through. The Doctor had his arm around Rose's shoulders, offering silent comfort. After watching her Earth implode, she had asked the Doctor to take her somewhere quiet. Somewhere there wasn't war or worry. Somewhere peaceful.
And so they were here. Rose didn't know the name of the planet and she didn't care. She was sure the Doctor had told her when they landed, but it hadn't mattered. She had flopped down in the grass and not moved since. The Doctor had wrapped his arm around her and said quietly,
"I come here often when I need to think." The air was warm, but Rose still shivered. The Doctor shed his leather jacket and wrapped it around Rose's shoulders. She pulled it close around her.
"How do you handle it?" she asked, tears in her eyes.
"What?"
"Knowing what happens. Knowing that your world is gone. Knowing everything and not going mad with it."
"Truthfully, I don't think on it. If you don't think on it too much, you can forget it for a while."
"But don't you remember eventually?"
"I didn't say it was a perfect way to handle it." he said defensively. Rose snuggled closer to his side,
"You've gone mad, you know."
"'Course I have. I'm over 900 years old. By your standards, I should be absolutely mental and dead."
"I'm glad you aren't dead." Said Rose with a sniffle. The Doctor dropped a kiss to her head,
"Me too." They lay there all night, watching the stars go by and grateful to be alive.