He knew this feeling.
It was longing, utter and unbearable longing, so deep and penetrating that he really asked himself if he might do it. Let go. Let go. Let go, let go, let go. Like he was on the edge of the Pit again, daring himself to jump, temptation devouring both his hearts like nothing else he could imagine.
She will die in battle.
That's what the Beast had said. And he had spent so much time trying to tell her that it wasn't true. But that scared him worse than any of his own challenged beliefs. And he had felt it in the air ever since that day. He thought, no, he knew something was coming.
Here it was.
He could imagine it. Just to let go. To crash into the void with her. To not decide for once, just do. Pry his old hands off the lever and grabs her young ones, so far away. And she was screaming his name, too late already. She was going to die. Alone. Without him. In that hell with the Cybermen and Daleks.
One hand loosed itself from the bar, after her, fluid. He could feel that particles dragging him towards her… Jump, jump, jump! It felt so long, his arm. And she was so far away in the short space, dragged backwards.
All it would take was a jump. A release.
"I love traveling with you," she'd said. Earnest, smiling, beautiful even though she hardly knew him. He wasn't sure if it was his new eyes that really made him notice, or if before, he had just not tried to.
And how many times had he thought he lost her? Gotten her stuck in some impossible situation, and she whispered in his ear that she didn't mind?
"But stuck with you, that's not so bad."
Jet let go. He willed himself to do it, unwind his tight fingers from that bar. He would fight all the millions of Cybermen and Daleks if it meant keeping her safe, if it meant using his every regeneration. He had a promise to keep. His fingers twitched.
Oh, god. He couldn't let her die. He couldn't lose her. He couldn't lose her… He hadn't ever said it to her…
Suddenly, he was screaming too. Incoherent sound, bloody sound, his mouth wrenching open… he couldn't even force himself to form her name. "No!" The long sound and half his brain ripping away from time. Let go let go let go letgo letgo letgoletgoletgo!
He wasn't able to breathe, choking, burning lungs, pain cracking through his hearts… Rose Tyler—his Rose Tyler… watching her die.
Let go. God, he couldn't let her burn. His screams tore the sides of his throat. Just let go!
But he knew so much. Self-preservation flooded his system. His hand grasped the lever again, horror carving into his face, his lungs. He felt himself hold on with every ounce of survival and self-loathing he had.
He had killed her.
He saw the flash of light before he saw him appear. Pete Tyler with just enough time before the void overtook him. His eye's met the man's, a silent nod, and he caught her. And she knew. Her panicked, screaming eyes deep into his. Betrayal. Desperation.
They disappeared. So far away.
So, so far away.
And he knew in that moment, alone in the universe, that he would do anything to say goodbye.