Pete comes near Rose, who is sitting alone in the darkness, stricken with grief. "The Doctor really cared about you," he starts. "He didn't want you to go through it again if there was another way. Now there isn't." She doesn't get it. "The car that should've killed me, love. It's here. The Doctor worked it out way back, but he...tried to protect me." There are tears in Pete's eyes now, too. "Still. He's not in charge anymore," Pete says. "I am." Rose protests; he strokes her face: "Who am I, love?" My daddy. Jackie walks up, eyes wide, and Pete points to Rose: "Jackie, look at her. She's ours." They stare at each other, caught up in hugeness. Jackie throws her arms around her daughter, eyes shut tight. She lets go. "I'm meant to be dead, Jackie. You're gonna get rid of me at last," Pete says, over her complaints. "For once in your life, trust me. It's got to be done. You've got to survive, because you've got to bring up our daughter." Poor lonely Jackie. Is it better this way? Even if she won't remember? Pete pulls Jackie in for a last kiss. It's passionate. Rose watches. It's good that she should see this part, too, since she'll be there for his death: he's an ordinary man.

Pete: "I never read you those bedtime stories. I never took you on those picnics. I was never there for you." Rose argues that he would have been. They both know it's not really true. They both know it doesn't matter anymore. "But I can do this for you. I can be a proper dad to you now." Rose says it's not fair. She's the opposite of right. It's not fair: it's damned lucky. "I've had all these extra hours. No one else in the world has ever had that! And on top of that, I get to see you." He takes her face in his hands. "And you're beautiful." She sobs silently, but he smiles, free now. "How lucky am I, eh? So. Come on, do as your dad says." Rose hands him the vase, without looking, tears still falling. "Are you going to be there for me, love?" Viewer abuse: that's when you scream "Nooo!" at the TV, even though it's just a TV. She nods, and he looks into her eyes. "Thanks for saving me," says Pete. And the sad, halting piano blooms into glissando, and he pulls his girls, his wife and his daughter, into his arms, and Rose closes her eyes. He's a hero. Finally. Restoration of the divine. How can you say any of this was a mistake?