It had taken a total of seven minutes to deduce that the bride had transmatted from a spatially fixed viewing station (the supernova serving as 'romantic scenery' for the wedding), leaving her husband-to-be standing at the altar. At least, the equivalent of an altar to the 29th century Christians of the 3rd union. The TARDIS, which pulled in all the energy emitted by the supernova, had accidentally intercepted the transmat. Between the series of yelling fits, pacing, and finger pointing fights that ensued, the Doctor had little time to think over what had happened on parallel earth. As soon as the angry woman in white stopped shrieking at him and explained her side, he quickly righted her plight, reversed the transmat with his sonic-screwdriver, and sent her back to the station somewhere. He hoped she ended up in a broom closet, that crazy woman.
Wincing at the ring in his ears her shrill yell had set off, he left himself sink into the two-seater next to the center console. Slowly, his head lolled backwards to rest on the back of the chair.
He was tired.
It was an all encompassing tiredness, not just a physical ache. The Doctor could feel it in the depths of his mind, the double beat of his hearts. He stared unblinkingly at the ceiling of the console room while he replayed in his mind too much too fast. Half an hour could have passed before he moved, but time was something the Doctor didn't want to pay attention to, for once. He replayed the scene at Bad Wolf Bay in his mind over and over, thinking of all the things he could have said in two minutes that he didn't think to say while he was able.
"And I suppose, Rose Tyler," he whispered to no one, closing his eyes. "That…I love you, too."
It had to be said. It didn't matter if only the TARDIS heard him, if no one heard him, or if Rose herself heard him admit what she already knew. The Doctor had to say it, had to make it real and move forward.
And if that didn't work, he didn't know what would.
