"Oh, come here, you," he broke by a fraction, arms instinctively looping about her frame to pull her in close as he possibly could. Whether standing at the precipice of his every adventure on The Crucible or in the safe, warm confines of the TARDIS, just having her near was enough for the Doctor to endure whatever madness crossed his mind.
She wasn't a solution, but a salve. "Have you seen it yet?" He asked quietly, mentally shaking his head at himself for being unclear and so strengthened his grip about her for his own sake, like he needed to steel himself for traipsing back down memory lane. It hadn't been until River's arrival that he thought of what happened, what he was off to face and honored to do despite what it cost him. He'd seen it, other than saving Gallifrey, it was all he'd actually sat down to see with his own eyes for the full length and breadth of a showing.
He hadn't even had the stones to watch his successor's passing--regeneration. The word really wasn't any better. Change was death, and death was an end.
"When I go, have you sat through it?" He pulled back then, expression wholly somber and eyes remorseful. "Because I got a bit lost, Rose. You know. Oh, me, can't ever find my way through all that tangled up time-y wime-y, wibbly wobbly mess of time and space properly. But I can find you, Rose Tyler. Know I did, made sure you were the last face this face saw. First and last, that's you for me. That's everything. I know you will, that's why I am all right. A bit. Mostly. Eighty-five percent. Ish. I promise."
Despite the despair he tended to latch on to like a much needed crutch, he smiled at her--genuinely--and found her hand to squeeze reassuringly. "The other fifteen percent has been keeping awfully busy denying that though, eh? I'm sorry, have I been that off?"