Every single one of them was brave. Every person he remembers - and he remembers all of them - was brave. They'd all face death with enormous amounts of pointless pride in staring it in the face and giving it the harshest glare possible - and most of his companions, no matter how sweet or small they may have been, could give a glare.

Their bravery may have been what made him the proudest and the guiltiest. He thought every day of another, and sometimes the more recent ones took two days. Sometimes the ones from long ago would take a week. It didn't matter; each one made him grieve and and each one hurt more and more each time. It wasn't a matter of preference but a matter of each loss sending up another flare of guilt to the already too-high pile. It never went away and neither did the pain which ached with every beat of his two hearts.

"How many more?" Davros uttered in his gravelly, Dalek-like voice. The words still penetrate his soul. They go right to the core of both of his hearts and eat them through, and yet they still pump, invisibly kind and painfully cruel. "Just think—how many have died in your name?"

They were all brave. Every name he could think of—all the owners of all those names were the bravest people Earth's ever known.

Her name was Rose.

She was brave because she was afraid. The fear that she began with was transformed into something he saw as so beautiful that he fell in love. She took it and turned it into knowledge, into something to fuel herself to become better and brighter in her confrontations. Rose Tyler was helped by the Doctor in the same ways as everyone else, but with a little bit of the unique twist that made the Doctor love her so much. Her personality fit so well into the imperfections and perfections of his that the attraction between them was undeniable and irresistible. Over time, they couldn't keep pretending it wasn't there because it was so strong.

Anyone who heard the Doctor speak her name knew what was at the end of that sentence on Bad Wolf Bay.

"Rose Tyler!" the Doctor exclaimed as she reentered the TARDIS. He watched as she comfortably came in like it was her own TARDIS as much as it was his and smiled, glad she'd grown accustomed to his home. All of his companions normally did, but it was especially rewarding to notice this from Rose, for reasons his mind would not allow him to explain but his hearts wouldn't allow him not to.

"Doctor!" she mimicked, grinning at him as she sauntered up to the console. She'd gotten her hair cut a while ago and he was still contemplating if he liked it better long or medium, though he wasn't sure why such a small detail was drilled into his brain like that. Still, he decided, she looked good either way. Her blonde hair was just her blonde hair. Just Rose, no matter what.

"Where do you want to go now?" he asked her eagerly.

She paused as she contemplated, and then she shrugged. "I'm not sure… Maybe we can just sit?" Rose suggested.

The Doctor frowned. "Sit?" he asked. The idea of staying still hadn't come close to occurring to him, but now that she brought it up, having some simply peaceful time with his best friend did not sound bad at all. "Sit," he said, the word feeling better in his mouth after some thought. "Sure, let's sit." He ran around the console as he put it into the Time Vortex, his usual energy coming back to him now that she was back from visiting her mother.

"And where should we do this sitting?" she asked him.

"I believe this sitting should be done in the kitchen," he replied, holding his hand out to her.

She immediately took it, and as they walked together to the kitchen, she said, "I believe that's a wonderful choice for our sitting."

He smiled at her with a slight roll of his eyes and they entered the kitchen. He walked around and held out two bananas questioningly. Rose rolled her eyes and said, "Sure."

"Bananas are good," the Doctor declared as he handed her one and sat down across the table from her. The small table was round and only had four seats, but for big occasions—of which there rarely was—he had a dining room. In the dining room was a long, twenty-two-seating table. He couldn't remember a time when every chair was filled. In fact, he didn't use the dining room but once.

The kitchen was small but fancy, with silver and blue everywhere. The walls were the same as the walls in the console room, but the cabinets, cupboards, sink, dishwasher, refrigerator, oven, microwave, and every other kitchen appliance you could think of was kind of metallic silver with blue chairs and a silver table. Everything that was silver held a bluish tint or bluish trim, and it all looked very alien. It was exactly what you might expect an alien's spaceship's kitchen to be like with just a bit more humanness added to it since it was the Doctor's.

To Rose, the kitchen was hers. The Doctor hoped so at least. He wanted the TARDIS to be entirely hers, not just hers when she came back from visiting Jackie and missed it and him. He cooked most of the time—before she even woke up he would be making her eggs or French toast—and the rest of the time they were trying out a foreign world's Saturday specials.

"Apples are better," Rose replied, grinning at him.

"But are they yellow?"

"Sometimes."

"Well… are they…? Erm. Never mind—apples are better."

Rose giggled slightly and they talked for hours after that, laughing and forgetting that outside the TARDIS doors there were whole civilizations to see, worlds to be found, and running to do.

There she was.

He had lost her. She was stolen into the alternate universe and he couldn't truly ever see her again, but he needed his goodbye. The Doctor and Rose—the story that would never end—needed a good, proper ending. It was the best story he'd known in a long time and it hurt, like turning to the last page of a book and seeing your favorite character die, only amplified majorly until it ate out his hearts and plagued him with pain.

She turned and saw him. He felt like hugging her and telling her how great she was and how pretty, but he restrained himself, standing tall and firm. "Where are you?" she asked, her blonde hair blown around by the wind. He looked around at Bad Wolf Bay and wished desperately that he was actually there, but the ghostliness of the bay made reality shudder back to him even though it was so easy to fly away from it with Rose.

"Inside the TARDIS," he answered, looking at his console which was realer than Rose and Bad Wolf Bay. "There's one tiny little gap in the universe left, just about to close. And it takes a lot of power to send this projection; I'm in orbit around a super nova," the Doctor explained. He laughed softly but there was no joy to it. "I'm burning up a sun just to say goodbye." But she was worth it, and he needed this.

Rose shook her head slightly. "You look like a ghost," she told him.

"Hold on…" The Doctor took his sonic screwdriver out of his project and pointed it at the console, strengthening the projection as the TARDIS was what was holding it up so they could see each other. Rose and the rest of the sliver of Bad Wolf Bay that he could see became a bit clearer and more solid, less fake and ghostly, like she said. It made him long even more to be able to bring her back onto the TARDIS and go off somewhere into space…

She walked over to him and raised her hand to touch him. This hurt his hearts incomprehensibly. He wished he could touch her too, but he forced himself not to reach out to her as she asked, "Can I t—"

"I'm still just an image," he answered miserably. "No touch."

Her voice trembled and he felt like tearing down all of time just to give her a hug. "Can't you come through properly?"

"The whole thing would fracture," the Doctor said. "Two universes would collapse."

Those two universes were worth it…

"So?" she asked, and the Doctor agreed but just smiled. She let out a short breath, knowing whatever hope she had in saying that was killed. She looked away for the briefest time and then looked back at him. He watched her and she watched him—perfectly at peace with sitting together, wishing they could hold hands and touch and feel and save worlds again.

The Doctor broke their gaze and looked around. "Where are we?" he asked her. "Where did the gap come out?"

"We're in Norway," she answered.

"Norway. Right." He nodded as he spoke.

"About fifty miles out of Bergen. It's called 'Darlig Ulv Stranden,'" she supplied.

The Doctor frowned and exclaimed, "Dalek?"

"Darlig," she corrected. "It's Norwegian for 'bad.'" When he furrowed his brow, she continued. "This translates as 'Bad Wolf Bay.'"

A small laugh between them was shared.

"How long have we got?" Rose asked, voice cracking. The Doctor felt like he was the sun that was burning to allow this goodbye.

"About two minutes," he told her gravely.

She ran her hand through her hair and laughed bitterly, though she was almost crying. "I can't think of what to say!"

He laughed sadly. Tears were not far behind, but he was much better at hiding it than the girl before him. He glanced at Rose's family and her friend Mickey, standing by the Jeep they came in. "You've still got Mr. Mickey, then?" he said, nodding toward them, trying desperately to somehow cheer her up in the slightest but knowing that that wouldn't work.

"There's five of us now," she told him. "Mum, Dad, Mickey… and the baby."

The notion of her being pregnant nearly killed him, but inside he knew she must've been happy. Still, he could hardly bear it. "You're not…?" he whispered gently.

She shook her head. "No!" She giggled lightly. "It's Mum."

The Doctor laughed in relief and looked at Jackie.

"She's three months gone. More Tylers on the way."

"And what about you?" he asked. "Are you…?" So many things could end that sentence. ...happy? …in a relationship? …okay?

"Yeah, I'm— I'm back working in the shop."

He nodded. "Oh, good for you."

She laughed for a moment. Both of them felt a sense of the old times. "Shut up. No, I'm not. There's still a Torchwood on this planet. It's open for business." She came close to crying again. "I think I know a thing or to about aliens."

The Doctor was overwhelmed with pain and pride in his Rose Tyler. She was his… and he was losing her, but he was grateful for her keeping a hold of him. He wished there was a way for him to do the same.

"Rose Tyler," he said, "defender of the Earth."

Their eyes lingered on each other lovingly, but again the Doctor can't let it last for long. "You're dead, officially, back home. So many people died that day and you've gone missing," he told her. It was so sad, all of it. Her gone, the people he couldn't have saved when the Cybermen and the Daleks invaded. "You're on the list of the dead."

Rose cracked. She cried quietly.

"Here you are," he said, and smiled. "Living a life, day after day." He paused. "The one adventure I can never have."

She was sobbing now and could hardly get her words out but she did. "Am I ever gonna see you again?" she asked and then buried her face in her hand.

He shook his head once: "You can't."

"What're you gonna do?" she asked.

"Oh, I've got a TARDIS," he answered, trying to make sure she knew everything would be okay—though it wouldn't, and he was sure that she was too smart to fall for it. "Same old life, last of the Time Lords."

"On your own?"

He nodded silently and couldn't tear his eyes away from the beautiful woman he loved but could never have. He should've known—should've never fallen for what would only tear him apart later. But he wouldn't wish away his time with her, ever. She looked him over and he could tangibly see how heartbroken she was in her eyes and by the thick, fast stream of tears flowing down her cheeks.

"I lo—" She broke down and couldn't finish her sentence. They both knew what she'd say but once she had composed herself—somewhat at least—she finished. "I love you." She shuddered with her sobs and the Doctor looked at her with so much love that he didn't have to say it—but she wanted him to, and he knew that. He couldn't bring himself to, couldn't, couldn't…

"Quite right, too," he managed in a whisper.

She nodded and forced a smile through the tears.

"And I suppose," the Doctor continued. "If it's my last chance to say it…" He paused, gazing at her. He was going to say it. He braced himself: "Rose Tyler…"

Before he finished, his world ended and she faded away from him. He knew he'd taken too long, and now he would never be able to tell her just how much he cared for her, but there was not way to say it to her in words anyway. She was gone from him forever, and though he'd burnt a star for her he didn't feel like it was enough. As he stood in his console room, head bowed and crying, he wondered if the two universes that would collapse really were worth it.

"Time for one last trip," the Doctor remarked. "Darlig Ulv Stranden. Better known as…"

And he took them to Bad Wolf Bay, the place he'd last seen Rose Tyler before she came back. He kept the grief from his voice, for he knew what was coming: his second loss of Rose and the first loss of Donna. He knew her mind was burning and it burnt his hearts but he flew around the console with his usual verve until they reached the bay.

He and Donna stayed back as the others walked out onto the sandy ground outside of the TARDIS. He knew exactly where they were and what it looked like, and he was beyond unenthusiastic to be returning to there. He sighed and Donna looked over at him, seeming to understand, but fortunately she didn't understand enough—not enough to know what was coming for it. He didn't want to see the pain in her eyes just yet.

Then they walked out as Jackie said: "—you remember? Had a baby boy!"

"Ah, brilliant," the new Doctor said. "What did you call him?"

"Doctor," Jackie answered simply.

The new Doctor was taken aback and so was the real one, but he did nothing but watch skeptically. The new Doctor, however, showed his surprise and asked, "Really?"

Jackie smiled. "No, you plum," she said. "He's called Tony."

Rose, obviously confused, spoke up: "Hold on... this is the parallel universe, right?"

The Doctor and Donna walked forward together, both of them with their hands in their pockets. "You're back home," the Doctor told her mirthlessly.

"And the walls of the world are closing again, now that the Reality Bomb never happened," Donna continued with the same graveness to her words and expressions, for as she was the DoctorDonna she knew what was happening in total, unlike Rose. "It's dimensional retroclosure." She looked up at him for a split second as she said, "See, I really get that stuff now." He nodded, and the new Doctor was smiling.

Rose spoke up in indignation. "No, but… I spent all that time trying to find you. I'm not going back now!" she protested.

"But you've got to," he told her firmly, stepping forward and locking his eyes on her sad face and her eyes which were already watery. 'Cause we saved the universe, but at a cost." He looked now at the new Doctor, who looked back at him. "And the cost is him. He destroyed the Daleks. He committed genocide." Obviously he didn't expect this because the look of anger that the Doctor wore so often but never saw for himself came to his face, and he could almost feel his face turning to that expression, it was so familiar, even though his face stayed stony. "He's too dangerous to be left on his own."

"You made me!" the new Doctor snapped.

"Exactly," he replied forcefully. "You were born in battle, full of blood and anger and revenge." His eyes went to Rose and his voice softened. "Remind you of someone?" When she said nothing, he continued explaining what he meant. "That's me, when we first met. And you made me better. Now you can do the same for him." It was almost too much, talking about the Time War while losing Rose and about to lose Donna, but he had grown since the last time he said goodbye to Rose, and tears didn't come to his eyes.

"But he's not you," she said softly, a tear running from her eyes.

"He needs you. That's very me."

"But it's better than that, though," Donna said. "Don't you see what he's trying to give you?" She looked up at the new Doctor. "Tell her. Go on."

Rose looked back at the new Doctor and the Doctor looked at the ground for a moment, holding back a sad sigh.

"I look like him, I think like him. Same memories, same thoughts, same everything." He looked at her with the same seriousness and same love as the Doctor. "Except I've only got one heart."

"Which means?" she asked.

He told her, "I'm part human. Specifically the aging part. I'll grow old with you and never regenerate. I've only got one life… Rose Tyler," he proposed, "I could spend it with you… if you want."

"You'll gr-grow old… at the same time as me?" she asked. It was every wish a woman in love with the Doctor made come true, and Rose was most certainly in love with the Doctor.

"Together."

She shook her head and moved forward, toward the new Doctor. She touched his chest gingerly to feel his single heart, and the Doctor smiled despite himself. The despair inside him was great, but the prospect of his Rose being so happy for the rest of her life, even if it wasn't him she was happy with, was an idea that he couldn't help but smile at. It was the only thing he wished of those he could no longer travel with.

The TARDIS made a noise of displeasure and the Doctor looked back toward her. "We've got to go," he said quickly. "The reality is sealing itself off… forever." He turned to leave her with him, to leave his Rose, but she stopped him as he and Donna walked toward his big blue box.

"But… it's still not right… 'cause the Doctor's… still you," she exclaimed.

He nodded toward the new Doctor, forcing the tears slowly leaving her eyes to not faze him. "And I'm him."

"All right," she said. "Both of you, answer me this." They come up to either side of her, facing each other but looking at Rose. "When I last stood on this beach, on the worst day of my life… what was the last thing you said to me?" When he didn't answer immediately like she'd hoped, she added, "Go on. Say it!"

"I said 'Rose Tyler,'" he said truthfully, fully aware of what she wanted to hear, but tears were coming to his eyes and he couldn't bring himself to say it aloud. And besides, she needed to hear it from the new one, not him. But still, he thought so powerfully that it broke his hearts, I love you.

"Yeah, and how was that sentence gonna end?" she insisted, confused as to why her Doctor wouldn't say it.

"Does it need saying?" he replied after a moment. She seemed somewhat hurt, but maybe he was just, in buildup of sadness, imagining it.

Rose's head swiveled toward the other Doctor. "And you, Doctor? What was the end of that sentence?"

He didn't hesitate to lean to her and whisper it in her ear. Rose looked at him when he pulled away, seeming to realize that it really was her Doctor, just like he was. She pulled him in and kissed him, her arms flinging themselves around his form. The Doctor watched them sadly. It was his one final glance at her before losing her forever to him, no proper goodbyes this time and most definitely no kisses. Then he walked forlornly back to the TARDIS and closed the door on Rose Tyler forever.

And he missed her as soon as he did.