The Doctor and Rose come upon Tommy, to whom the Doctor bequeaths the blue scooter before they leave. "Little present. Best, um...keep it in the garage for a few years though, eh?" Behind them, Eddie walks down the street with his suitcase; behind them, Rita embraces her mother. Tommy watches his father leaving, and scowls: "Good riddance." There are three ways to deal with authority. One is for children. "Is that it then, Tommy? New monarch, new age, new world...no room for a man like Eddie Connelly?" That's right, says Tommy, "He deserves it." And he does, and there isn't, and we're biding our time. He deserves it. But Tommy doesn't: there's a fourth way. You look behind the image and see the reality, which is that Eddie is a person just like Gran was. He's just lost, that's all. Rose and the Doctor go around inspiring people to save the world, right, and all of a sudden you hate this dude so much you can't see straight, and you forget the fourth way: You start with Eddie. Start saving the world with Eddie. Save the world one Eddie at a time. "Tommy, go after him," says Rose -- who knows a thing or two about letting your father go for good -- and Tommy asks what on Earth for. "He's your dad," she says, but what she means is, "You're worth saving." Tommy smirks. "He's an idiot." Which is undeniably true, and Rose nods. "'Course he is. Like I said, he's your dad. But you're clever. Clever enough to save the world, so don't stop there. Go on!" She nudges him; the beautiful song starts up again. Tommy runs to join his dad. He grabs his father's bag from him, and they continue on together. Clever Tommy.
Doctor and Rose fondly watch Tommy and Eddie from a distance, sipping on orange juice. They clink their glasses together, smiling, having saved another world. I mean to say that they watch the image of Tommy reconciling with his father, with the real world, crashing back to the world of televisions and uniforms after walking with a god, and they are so very proud of him, and so very happy to sit and watch. O happy hour, behold the bride With him to whom her hand I gave. They leave the porch, they pass the grave That has to-day its sunny side... Love is and was my King and Lord, And will be, thoâ as yet I keep Within his court on earth, and sleep Encompassâd by his faithful guard, And hear at times a sentinel Who moves about from place to place...and whispers to the worlds of space, In the deep night, that all is well. They think they know what's coming; they don't. And I am so sorry for that. But for now they move from place to place, and whisper to the worlds of space, in the deep night: "All is well."