Hands joined – a normal occurrence for the pair – the Doctor led Rose inside the TARDIS without a word.

Eyes downcast, she whispered, "I'll go pack my bag."

"What're you talkin' about, Rose?" he asked confusedly.

"You're taking me home, aren't you? Or do you always keep your companion's belongings, as compensation for all the trouble they caused, perhaps?"

"I'm not taking you home, Rose, not unless you want to go."

"Oh, god – never. But – I don't understand. Adam . . . what he did was minimal compared to what I've done, yet you sent him home. Why am I different?"

"Like I said – I only take the best. And that's you, Rose."

She had pulled away from him by now. At hearing his words, she fell to her knees, clutching at her sides and gasping for air as she released deep, heart-wrenching sobs.

The Doctor was instantly by her side, cradling her to his chest and rocking her as he would a small child.

"It's alright, Rose. I've got you," he whispered over and over again, his two hearts breaking at the sight before him.

"He's gone," she cried. "He's gone and there's nothing I could have done. And when I tried to save him, I ended up almost destroying the universe."

"Shh, there, there," the Doctor continued.

"And you . . ." Rose pulled away to look up at him. "If you hadn't come back, it would have been my fault."

"What's done is done, Rose. I knew what I was doing the moment I stepped in front of all those people . . . the risks I was taking. But I also knew your dad, and I knew that he would take care of you – and he did."

"Only because of you," Rose replied. "You were the one to point him in the right direction."

"That's all I could have done. A person's timeline is their own business. They have to make the decisions that feel best for them. And your dad did by putting you and the others above his own desire to be live."

Rose dissolved into hysterical tears again. But she managed to gasp out. "At least I got to know him better. But you . . . I almost lost you, permanently. And it would have been my fault."

"Put the past behind you, Rose," the Doctor urged her gently. "That's all it is – the past. It can't hurt you anymore."

Rose cried and cried, until her tears ducts ran dry.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered desperately. "Please – forgive me."

"You know I do, Rose Tyler," said the Doctor reassuringly.

"But why?"

"I forgive you because you're you – the best of the best."

"But I almost destroyed the universe. I got you killed for a time. How can you even stand to look at me, much less take me with you?"

"Oh, Rose . . . my sweet, darling Rose. If I couldn't leave you, I certainly couldn't blame you."

Rose kept her head buried in the Doctor's chest. She didn't believe him – she couldn't. And she was sure that if she met his gaze, she would see only censure for her actions.

"Look at me, Rose," the Doctor ordered, and she was unable to disobey. Reluctantly, she raised her head, only to gasp at the utter tenderness in the Doctor's eyes.

"You don't . . . hate me?" she asked.

"No, never," he replied. "There was a reason I offered to take you with me on the night of the walking dummies. You may not understand my motives yet, but someday you will. And that is why I could never hate you, and why I forgive you – today and always."

"Oh, thank you, Doctor," said Rose, collapsing against him and winding her arms tightly around his torso.

The Doctor heard her whisper, "I love you," but was pretty sure that she hadn't meant for him to hear that. What had to be understood about Time Lords was that they had impeccable hearing – he couldn't help what his ears picked up. However, he'd leave her with her pride and not let her know that he had heard – no matter how difficult it would be for him to keep silent, now that he knew that his feelings were returned.

"So, where to next?" he asked, casually changing topics and inserting as much cheer into his voice as he could. He was more than ready to leave the pain and suffering of this world behind, and he was sure that Rose would agree with him.