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“Locked in a tower on a planet without oxygen, spacesuit running out of air, and you’re trying to tell me you weren’t scared?”
“Eh.” Rose shrugs, like she wasn’t within a few minutes of death — though the Doctor is pretty sure she’s downplaying her concern. Far be it from him to criticize. “We came here together; I knew we’d leave together. I knew you’d come get me. You always do.”
He’s still caught up in the rush of the rescue; the terror of being too late still throbbing in his bones, the thrill of getting her safely back to the TARDIS warming his veins.
“I always will,” he promises — though the Doctor of all people should really know better than to make promises like that.
Rose leans into his chest; he wraps his arms around her. “Even if it means breaking into a thousand-foot tower to get me out?”
“A tower is nothing. I’d burn up a sun for you, Rose. I’d break the universe to save you, if I had to.”
The words slip out, a fierce blaze of protectiveness, and it frightens him to realize they feel true.
This is why Time Lords shouldn’t fall in love.
“I don’t know about that. Better choose the universe over me, if it came to it.” Rose laughs. “If you need to burn through a sun or two, though, I’ll trust your judgment.”
The Doctor laughs too, holding her against his hearts, and tries to ignore the cold frisson of premonition.