Rose couldn't sleep. It was late, or early, or at least it was when she normally slept; time didn't really mean that much inside the Tardis.
The Doctor on the other hand was having no such problems; if anything he was sleeping more now than she had ever know. The "other" Doctor, the man she had known before never seemed to need sleep, but so much about him had changed. He had explained that the regeneration and fighting the Sycorax had taken their toll and he still needed time to recover, things would soon be "back to normal".
But would things be normal again. She wanted to accept that this new man was still as much the Doctor as the one she had loved, but there were times, when he entered a room, that the pang of loss was almost unbearable.
Rose walked slowly around the control room, so many wonderful memories in this strange alien environment.
She smiled remembering the very first time she entered the Tardis, leaving it again almost instantly, unable to comprehend what her eyes were telling her. The moment she had discovered that this strange man was even stranger than she thought.
Here was the place she stood in that beautiful Victorian dress, when the Doctor had told her she looked beautiful. He had quickly joked away the comment, but Rose had seen the truth in his eyes.
Here where they danced the day that Jack had first come aboard. Rose had thrilled at the jealousy in the Doctor's eyes when they had brought Jack into their lives, but not as much as she thrilled at the feel of the Doctor's arms around her as he danced her around the consol.
Jack? She wondered where he was now. The Doctor seemed certain that he was safe, so had no real reason to doubt him. But she remembered Jack kissing them both goodbye, was it really possible that he survived?
Rose's sigh seemed loud in the quiet of the Tardis. She had never known it so quiet; it was normally so full of life. Even in the beginning, when it had just been Rose and the Doctor he seemed to fill the place with energy, with excitement. Add Jack to the mix and the resulting chaos had been a joy.
Rose stopped as she ran a hand across the panel of the consol, still scratched where she had attached the chain to force open the heart of the Tardis. Her memories of what happened after that was vague, uncertain. In her dreams she saw again the bright light, and images that she could not understand, the Daleks melting away before her eyes, the Doctor holding her close… She could not be sure how much of what she dreamed was real; the Doctor seemed unwilling, or unable to discuss it.
But she remembered waking up, back safe in the Tardis. She recalled the feeling of pure joy at seeing the Doctor standing there, safe and well, joking that his singing had frightened away the Daleks. And then he changed. He tried to explain what was happening, but he had so little time, and the only word that penetrated was dying.
Rose had watched this wonderful man disappear, consumed in light, and then return, but not as himself.
Now when the Doctor smiled it was a different smile, when he held her hand it was with different hands. But when he fought, there was the passion and the conviction of the man she knew.
Rose ran her fingers across the scratches on the consol again; she would ask the Doctor if they could fix it in the morning.
"Don't worry Rose, everything will be fine."
Rose jumped at the unexpected voice, looking around to see who had spoken, but at the same time knowing that the words had been whispered inside her head. The voice was soft and low, but familiar, as if she had known it for a long time.
"It doesn't matter what he looks like, he will always be our Doctor."
Rose felt comforted by the words, stroking the consol once more in thanks.
She yawned, the need for sleep had caught up with her and Rose made her way out of the control room.
Once she had gone the Doctor stepped out from the shadows, walking over to where Rose had stood, placing his hand over the scratched consol.
"Thank you old girl," he whispered to his Tardis.