The Doctor stands alone in the TARDIS, tears spilling down his cheeks, his mouth still open to speak the words that could have broken Rose for good. He swallows, hard. Continues to cry, silently, until he can finally wipe the tears away and breathe, hit buttons and flick switches, push levers and get away. His hands are heavy, and empty. He turns suddenly, to see a woman named Donna Noble, wearing a wedding gown, as shocked as he is. The tears are still drying on his face. "What?" he asks, and she jerks toward him, yelping in surprise, angry. "Who are you?" He stares around the TARDIS, dumbfounded. "What the hell is this place?" she hollers. He stares: "What?"
But that's for the Christmas special, "The Runaway Bride," which we'll be seeing sometime in the summer, I guess, and anyway, that's not what we were talking about, was it? We were talking about Rose and the Doctor. This isn't one funeral, but two.
Once there was a girl named Rose Tyler, and we've talked about this before. She touched magic and fell in love, two rarities. She looked into time, and knew everything, and liberated and saved and comforted and brought joy to people at a prodigious rate. Basically a superhero, she became. And she went up into Heaven and came down into Hell, and through it, and out the other side. She came close to losing her humanity, until grace relented, and lent her a hand, and got her nudged back into place, with a family, a mother and a father who loved her, and she could begin again. But the man she fell in love with, now, he was strong, and wise, and funny, and strange. Sometimes he didn't make any sense at all. Sometimes he scared her. But they were a team, and they fought together. And one day, he was taken from her. He died, passed away to another world, where she could never see him again. And she mourned him, and she found her place, and she remembered how to fly again. The thing he taught her was to be better than just another shopgirl: the thing she learned from him was that she always was. Conservative average is like 9,000 words a recap. Twenty-seven recaps. I don't care to do the math and I don't know how to say this without coming across just ridiculous, and I am slightly drunk, but I mean: Rose Tyler. On every single page. I know this girl, and she's gone, forever, and tonight I really miss her. I wish today were just like every other day. My Rose. You were fantastic.
Once there was a boy, loom-born and Academy-taught, who went out into the world with a magical machine, and had adventures. Lots and lots and lots of freaking adventures. In time and space and comics and novels and the occasional TV show. And one day Gallifrey burned, and the Time Lords died, and the Daleks were gone, and Arcadia fell. And I'm pretty sure he died that day, too. And I'm pretty sure the first thing he saw after that was a blonde girl from South London, who took his hand and led him back into the light. And they went everywhere together, up the ramp and down again, and he died. He changed his face. It hurt like hell. And when he came back, they went to Barcelona -- the planet, not the city -- and then back to London, and he learned what a family was like. Things got domestic. Her mom would do things like kiss him right on the mouth. And that South London girl taught him how to love again. He cracked open his chest and let himself take chances and risk oblivion in ways he never had before. She opened doors and left them unlocked, and she knew him. This is what love means; this is what existence demands. And then she died. The ramp down for him, too: she reached up to Heaven and he reached down to Earth, and where they touched, it was magic. He got more human; she got more human, too. He had to let go, without turning back to look, without saying it aloud; and this is also what love means.