With everything that happened, the Doctor hadn't even stopped to consider it, that his anchor had worked, or to what extent. But now he's ever more grateful that it did, because in the chaos, he'd been so afraid he might lose them both to forces beyond his control.

Her tears pull at his hearts, even as she smiles, and he wishes he could soothe every hurt that lingers. Yet, he also knows that in strange ways, the terrible things bring them closer, though he would also hope for those he loves never to suffer. Life is a constant tangle of good and bad, pain and hope, and all they really have in the end is each other, for whatever time they're given. He's not so good at that latter part; endings are inevitable and his instinct is to run to avoid them, but it deprives him of all the good things in between. He's trying to remember that and hold onto it more here, because there's nowhere else to go.

Smiling down at her gently, he softly says, "This place has been so unpredictable in nearly every way, couldn't be sure of anything. I'm so glad it worked."

The worst that could have happened was it did nothing. To know she had a bit of control, at least, means everything to him.

"What you said, though, about what bothers you. If you don't know what it is exactly or how to say it, just know you're understood and you're never alone."