"Rose Tyler-"

And then he was gone.

And she was left standing there, crying on the sands of Bad Wolf Bay. He had burned up a star to say good-bye. But it still hadn't been enough. He still couldn't get to her, and she still couldn't get back to him. And that was the worst thing in any world. Because she wasn't even able to tell him the truth.

She found out a few days before getting his message. It should have been the happiest moment of her life. Instead it was the worst. Because he wouldn't be there, and she had no idea what would happen. If he could be there, or she with him, it would have been the best thing that ever happened. But without him, she didn't know what to do. And it terrified her. After all that had happened, all that she knew, she was scared. She, Rose Tyler, the Bad Wolf, was more frightened than she had ever been.

But the fear pulled her out of the depression that had held her in its grasp ever since she turned away from the wall. It yanked her from the cold, damp air that had enveloped her for weeks.

Then she got his message, and the fear turned to apprehension and anxiety. What should she tell him? What COULD she tell him? She would tear apart the universes to get back to him, if she could. And he actually could tear them to shreds.

Who did she owe more allegiance to? The universes or...?

But in the end, none of it mattered. She went, driving for hours to get there. Of course she went. How could she not?

She didn't know what to expect once she got there. She just got out of the car and walked. She didn't feel drawn to a certain spot. Life isn't like it is in the stories. She just walked away, away from everything, trying to walk away from this world and back to her own. Back to her Doctor.

And then he was there. But not really. He was just an image, a ghost of the man she loved, an apparition lasting two minutes.

They talked. She couldn't even remember about what, really. Something about the Cybermen and Daleks. Lots of people disappeared. She was dead.

She tried to convince him she would be fine, even though "fine" was far from what she really was. She told him she still had her mum and dad and Mickey.

And the baby.

When she said it, that look flew to his eyes and she knew what she had to do. Even with as much practice as he had over his many years, he could never hide himself from her. To others, he may have been the Doctor, the more-than-a-man shrouded in secrecy. But to Rose, he was HER Doctor, her wonderful, fantastic Doctor. The man she loved. And he her. She knew that he would have torn both universes apart to get to he and their child. She knew by his eyes alone that if it was true, he would have stopped at nothing, destroyed everyone and everything he had to. He would have destroyed all of time and space for her.

So she quickly corrected, "It's Mum's."

And the relief on his face was so bittersweet it hurt.

She was crying. She didn't even try to hold back the tears. This was one situation where she was allowed to cry.

She told him she loved him. He told her her name.

But that wasn't what she was crying about. He never had to say he loved her. She knew. She'd always known. She's known before he did. He didn't need to say it.

No, that wasn't why she was crying. She wasn't even really crying because he was gone.

Actually, that was part of it, having to manage everything without him.

But the tears weren't for her. They weren't even entirely for him. No, she was crying because of the reality of that she was avoiding.

Because they had only had two minutes, and sometimes a horrible lie is better than the bittersweet truth.