Two hundred and fifty seven years since he had destroyed a star for one last chance to see her face, hear her voice. Two hundred and fifty seven years since he had given up any hope of ever seeing her again. Worlds and stars could fall for Rose, but even he could not destroy the universe to keep her by his side.
Two hundred and fifty two years since he began to search for a way to reach her without shattering the fabric of reality. Two hundred and fifty two years of searching, testing, failing, struggling, trying again.
The Doctor's hand shook only a little as he pressed the button.
The Tardis skipped between universes like a stone across a pond.
