She peers out through the blinds at the sun setting across London. This might well be the last time she sees it. She squints against the glare and tries to memorise the silhouettes of the buildings. She thinks that the view from her flat as the light fades is an odd thing to miss, really. A whole world – a universe, even – of people and things, and that's what she holds onto.

But then, she's always liked sunsets. In her experience, that's when all of the best things happen.

She thinks of her Mum, and of how she'll feel if she never sees Rose again. Then she realises that it doesn't matter either way. If Rose doesn't take the chance while she can, she doesn't know who or what the hell will be left of her, but it won't be Rose Tyler. She won't be able to live with herself. One way or another, her Mum's going to lose her.

She's been dragging herself along for far too long. It constantly batters at her, and she's finally at breaking point. She can stand tall on her own for short stretches at a time when it's necessary, but the weight of doing it all the time is too much. She's been part of a pair ever since she took a hand in a basement and ran. She still hasn't figured out any other way to be.

Rose lets the blinds snap shut again, plunging her flat into darkness.

When the Zeppelin finally sets them down, Rose leads the Doctor away without a word to anyone else. There's something she has to do. That they have to do, just the two of them.

"Rose, what –"

"Shh," she says, and he falls into silence.

She see with one glance at his face what he's thinking. He trusts her to lead him, even when she's refusing to explain herself. Funny. It had always sort of been the other way around between them. Rose supposes that he's the one out of his depth now, and she's the one showing him new worlds that she's experienced many times before.

Well, a new world. It's difficult to remember that even with the Doctor at her side once more, she's still grounded. There'll be no travel throughout time and space for them now.

But there's still this.

The door squeaks on its rusted hinge as she pushes it open. She steps out onto the roof of her building, dragging the Doctor behind her.

"Sunset," she says simply.

The Doctor looks at her like he doesn't quite know what to make of her. She knows the feeling.

"Sunset?" he repeats.

"I wasn't sure I'd ever see it again," she admits. She meets his eyes, then, for the first time since they'd watched the TARDIS disappear on that beach. "The Dimension Cannon was dangerous. We didn't know..."

He pulls her in close to him, then, clutching at her.

"I still can't believe my Mum and Mickey used it," she mumbles into his suit jacket. "I told them not to."

"You shouldn't have either," the Doctor admonishes, pushing her gently away so that he can look at her again. "You could have been ripped apart, crossing the Void without any proper insulation like that. Even the TARDIS has – had – difficulty making that trip."

The mention of the TARDIS in the past tense looks like it almost breaks him. Rose understands, because she feels it too.

Still, she shakes her head. "I couldn't've stayed here. I just couldn't."

The Doctor looks away guiltily. "And then we practically forced you to come back."

Rose reaches out and cups his cheek, turning his face back towards her. "Shut up," she says firmly. "Remember the last time we watched a sunset? Remember what you asked me?"

She certainly can recall every second of it, even years later. She can tell he does as well. She likes to think that it's not the sort of promise any man, even him, could easily forget.

"My answer still stands, you know," she says. "It wasn't never about the space travel or whatever. It was you and me, and our completely insane version of forever. You tryin' to tell me that you can't still get the two of us into trouble here on Earth?"

He smiles. She's glad for the sight of it.

"I think I might be able to manage something," he says.

She thinks to herself that – for the first time in years – if she stumbles, he'll be right there to catch her. Right where he belongs. For now, though, just him being there is enough that she thinks she can stand on her own two feet for a while.

They stay to watch the sun lower beyond the buildings, their hands finding each other subconsciously.

The touch of their palms together and the companionable silence between them says more in that moment than any grand professions of 'I love you' and 'forever' could ever do.

~FIN~