Here's where the nest story really begins:
For a while longer they simply sat there. The air grew colder about them and the dampness of the sand began to seep into their clothes. The sun had set and the light was dimming. With each foggy breath, they came to a deeper realization of the undeniable: That it had all actually happened. This was reality. Their reality. Pete's World. They were here now. They could never go back. But they were together. Finally together again.
Neither of them said a word. Neither of them moved. They would, it seemed, rather stay here forever: Perhaps in the hope that they would hear the TARDIS again, coming back for them. The grinding, vworping noise still echoed in their ears, resonating deep within each of their souls. It was the sound of the universe. Their universe. And it was gone. Perhaps they lay in the hope that it had all been a lie.
But perhaps, just perhaps, they lay in the hope that it had all been real. Perhaps the reason for their near disbelief was something more than the tragedy of losing all contact with the reality to which they both belonged. Perhaps it had something more to do with the presence beside them: The incredible, impossible presence of the one that they had always and would always love. Perhaps this was the reality for which they were destined after all. Neither of them knew which it was, but the more they thought about it the more unbelievable it became; the more wondrously, gloriously unbelievable, and the more fantastically real.
They stared up at the stars, watching them come out one by one. They air grew colder still. It must have been some time in early autumn, because although the temperature had been mild before it lowered quickly as the dark crept over the eastern sky, becoming what could only be properly described as 'chilly'. Each sensation seemed to testify to the reality of their situation: The breeze on their skin, the taste of salt on the air, and the warmth of the other body beside them. The waves lapped gently at the shoreline somewhere to their right, a sound that might have been enough in itself to lull anyone to sleep – especially someone who had had such an eventful day or such an eventful life as they had.
They gazed, together, skyward; each lost deep in their own thoughts. Each wondered what the other was thinking. Neither bothered to ask.
At long last – no one knew how many moments or hours later – the muffled sound of footsteps approaching in the soft sand could be heard. The sea wind had picked up, stirring up the air around them and washing the cool night in waves of the gentlest warmth mixed with a nearly icy chill. The footsteps were nearing, but neither of them wanted to respond. But if they did not take this moment, they would never have it again.
At last, Rose broke their stillness. Turning her head only slightly, she looked over to him. She took a moment to simply take in the image of his face. It was so familiar. So wonderful. And it had been so long since she had gotten the chance to see it; to see him, and to be with him. Was it still him? A dark corner of her mind protested. It was true; none of this was as it was supposed to be. She was not supposed to come back to Pete's World. She was supposed to stay with him, on the TARDIS. She had made her plans and even said her goodbyes. And now she was back at Bad Wolf Bay. As she looked once more at the man beside her, still thinking over his words, she realized that maybe, just maybe, that all of this was ok. Maybe what was 'supposed' to be and what 'should' be weren't always the same. Maybe this wasn't that bad after all. Maybe it was the best.
She had to resist that part of her that whispered doubts against her new Doctor: That little voice that kept reminding her that he was half-human, and insisting that he was not the Doctor. But then again… He was half-human. He had given up so much for her. And he would never, ever leave. He promised. And he had told her. He had actually said it, out loud. He loved her. How could she still doubt him? He was her Doctor. She dared to hope once more and dared to trust him.
"We're…" Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, but in the calm evening it sounded like a shout. The Doctor turned his head towards her, catching her gaze in his own. For a moment Rose stopped. It had been so long since she had seen that look in his eyes: Not just since she had seen him last, but since she had seen him like this. He was open, honest, and bare. All of his guards were down. And that was, for once, alright. He was a new man, with a new purpose, and a new hope. "We're gonna be alright, yeah?" Rose finished her question at last.
The Doctor simply stared at her for a moment as he mentally testified again to how utterly brilliant, lovely, and amazing she was, and to how much he loved her. He could see the deep hope and trust in her eyes, tempered with a twinge of honest fear. It was a look he had seen many times before. It fact, it was just how she looked in the instant that they first met.
Without saying a word the Doctor slipped his hand down to clasp Rose's. She entwined her fingers with his in natural reaction to his touch. "Rose…" He whispered, his voice gentle and his grip tight. She held on to him just as tightly and realized in a flash that in this moment her very breath hung upon his word. "We're gonna be…" A slow smile crept upon his face. "Fantastic."
Rose could not help but smile back. For a moment, she wanted nothing less than to grab him by the lapels and kiss him again for all it was worth. But in this quiet, peaceful moment it somehow did not seem right. "Yeah?" she whispered meekly instead. She did not want to be rash or shallow, but she wanted to trust him. She needed to trust him: To hear him say it, that they would be alright, and that he loved her. And to believe. She wanted to fall slowly, deeply in love with him again. As he smiled at her here, on this God-forsaken beach of all places, she realized that she already had.
"Yeah." He breathed out a confident reply. In a moment he had turned to press a gentle, chaste kiss to her forehead, his right arm coming to wrap around her shoulders and pull her to himself without ever releasing her hand with his left. He closed his eyes and held her there for a long moment and Rose closed her eyes as well, breathing in his scent, his touch, his warmth, everything about him: Reminding herself that he was real.
As he held her, their hands still grasped tightly, she slipped her free hand up to his chest. She could feel the beat of his single, human heart. And this time – unlike the first time, when she had been scared, unsettled, and even angry – she felt that it was right. In fact, it was brilliant. He had given up so much to be with her. And here he was, holding her in his arms. Her Doctor.