"Come on, Rose," a voice with a warm, Northern burr rumbled under her ear. "Up you get! Time for us to go. You helped me build it, so you get to help me use it."

Her eyes fluttered open groggily as she felt him ever-so-carefully manipulating her fingers to press a button. The jury-rigged contraption, constructed of assorted junk from the Doctor's pockets, as well as Rose's hoop earrings ("I'll buy you a new pair - next trip - I promise!") and wad of chewing gum, wheezed and sputtered, then the lock on their cell sprang open.

"See? Couldn't've done it without you," he said proudly.

Rose managed the ghost of a smile, wondering that she had the energy for even that small gesture.

"Let's get you home," he murmured, scooping her up into his arms.

The next time Rose awoke, she was warm and safe and dry in her own room on the TARDIS.

The Doctor looked up from whatever he was tinkering with and grinned. "Was wonderin' when you were gonna wake up. How are you feelin'?"

"Better." Rose glanced contentedly at her familiar surroundings and smiled. "You got us home."

"We got us home," he corrected gently.

"But I didn't do anything. I couldn't even walk out of there on my own."

The Doctor sighed and looked away. "I've been traveling on my own for too long. Lose track of things, sometimes. I'd probably still be sittin' in that dungeon. But you…I knew I had to get you someplace warm, away from all that mold that was mucking about with your upper respiratory system."

"So…I was like, your inspiration?" Rose asked, with a slow smile.

"Yes. That's just what you are, Rose Tyler."