Disclaimer: Don't believe everything you read. I own Doctor Who. I warned you. But I don't, really. Unless I do.

A/N: Girl in the Fireplace. Why did the Doctor really go through the window? Here's just one among many possibilities that make me feel much, much better about the whole thing. Saw it last night and realized Rose was much more sympathetic with Reinette than I'd first thought. Here's what I made of it. Also, thanks again to Jecir and Kirsten for reviewing (since I can't send review replies.) :-)

Promise

Rose watched him. She tried not to, but she couldn't help it. She watched as he continued pushing buttons and flipping switches and taking readings. He didn't give up, him. Even though it was completely hopeless. His face said it all. She didn't have to ask to know. She hardly had to ask lately to know exactly what was going on behind those ancient eyes of his. So, there was no nope. The only way to save Madame de Pompadour, Reinette, was to go through that glass window.

He caught her staring. He looked straight into her eyes. She gazed back. Intensity crackled like lightning between them.

"Mickey," Rose murmured without looking away. "Could you go check the bedroom? See if she's still there."

"Sure." His voice was laced with confusion as he took in their standoff, but he left without another word.

She saw the moisture forming in the Doctor's eyes but refused to break the stare. His throat bobbed up and down. She'd made her decision. Now all he had to do was follow through.

"Rose," he began, his voice choked.

"You made a promise," she interrupted sternly. She surprised herself with how calm she sounded, though a storm was raging inside of her. "And I made that promise for you."

His eyes were red. "I know."

"You're the only one who can." She murmured, as the screams from below grew louder. She didn't mean he was the only one of them who could accomplish this mission. She was as capable of that. But only he could take the journey that followed. She couldn't live the three thousand years it would take to get back.

"You don't have to do this." He said.

She hadn't blinked. "No, you do. And I'm tellin' you to. You're not the only one who gets to make sacrifices." She chuckled now, no amusement in the sound but a sad smile in her eyes.

A loud neigh from up the corridor broke their concentrations. They both looked in that direction, then back at each other. Her eyes were filled with tears. He now carried a calm composure.

"You come back to me now, you hear? Doesn' matter 'ow long it takes. Just come back."

He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. But it didn't matter. His eyes said it all. They burned with his unspoken words. "Always." He wanted to say more, she knew. She wanted him to say more. But she knew he couldn't. Instead, he whispered one more word. "Promise." And he turned and swept down the corridor, away from her.

She stood stiffly as he raced by on Arthur, as he left her. The glass shattered. The sound resembled what she'd imagine her heart must have sounded like at that moment. Said heart found its way into her throat. She barely heard Mickey's questions. Why was she so shocked? She'd practically thrown him through the window herself. Was it that he hadn't looked back? No, that couldn't be it. She understood why he didn't. He never did.

The truth was that it was that he'd gone at all. She really hadn't expected him to listen. After all, only one person was at stake, not the whole universe, as was usually the case. Had it been a decision then, Rose versus Reinette? And he'd chosen Reinette? No, that wasn't fair. First, she'd made him go. And second, it would have gone against everything he was, his character, not to go. If there was one concrete, absolute thing the Doctor had taught her, it was sacrifice and how-to. This time, though, it wasn't costing only him, but her too, and his sacrifice had cost her everything. She wondered if he felt the same way and then stopped because she already knew the answer. He'd promised to come back, and she was holding to him to that. She wouldn't move until he returned. Even if that meant he'd have to brush cobwebs from her face when he got there. Because he would get there. Always. And that's why she'd let him go.

A/N: Let me know what you think. It still feels incomplete to me. Thanks for reading!