The Doctor paused in the doorway of his library. He hadn't been here in a while, but this was one room of the TARDIS that rarely changed. No matter how drastically the rest of the ship might make herself over, this room was his, and things generally stayed as he put them. His prized copy of "The Black Orchid" in its display case still stood where he'd set it all those years - centuries? - ago, and there was the wing chair upholstered in stiff leather that had just suited the tough old bones of a soldier.
The TARDIS was also selective about who she let find this place. Nyssa and Adric had known about it and come here often to study. And Rose, of course, had been privy to so many of his secrets. Curiously, the Ponds had never managed to find their way here, and for the moment he was profoundly grateful for that. For tonight, he needed some space to process the events of the day, and to reflect on the last time someone had managed to make him stop and think about his attitude towards the Daleks.
The Doctor sighed in relief at seeing Rose whole and safe - even if she was curled up in his chair. He couldn't fathom why she preferred the stiff, cracked leather to the plush settee that the TARDIS had insisted on installing for her in his library. She heard the quiet sound and looked up, smiling when she saw him, and he knew, suddenly, just how that Dalek had felt when it experienced sunlight for the first time. "Been lookin' for you," he said quietly. "You should be asleep."
"Couldn't," she replied. "What you got there?" she added, seeing that he was carrying a thermos and a tin.
"Bit o' tea, and those chocolate biscuits you like so much."
"You goin' domestic on me?" she teased.
"This was a hard day. Thought you could do with a bit o' pampering."
"Hard for both of us," she agreed. "Wanna share?"
"Not in my chair," he said, plopping down in the middle of the settee. "We are not getting tea and crumbs all over my chair."
Laughing, she scrambled over to sit beside him. That joyous laughter, that earlier today he thought he'd never hear again, was balm to his soul. It never ceased to amaze him just how much nine centuries of accumulated pain could be soothed by the touch of her hand, or the weight of her head on his shoulder. Or the simple act of sharing tea out of the same cup, fingers entangling as they both reached for the last biscuit. Rose laughed, and snapped it in half. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tucking her in against his side.
"Doctor," she said softly, "I'm sorry."
"Nothing for you to apologize for," he said firmly. "If anything -"
"No. I am. I'm sorry about waking up the Dalek, and not moving fast enough, and I'm sorry about Adam. I know you didn't want to bring him. It's just…he's so much smarter than me, and he wanted to see the stars…I just thought that if someone as smart as he is had the chances you've given me…"
"Rose, hush," the Doctor said firmly. "All Adam has is book learnin.' Most common thing in the universe. What you have is so much more, so very precious."
"What've I got, Doctor?" she faltered.
He reached out and cradled her face with his rough hand. "Love. Compassion. Empathy. You have the gift to look a monster in the eyes and find some good in him." He wasn't sure, just then, if he was speaking of the Dalek, or himself. It didn't much matter. She'd set them both free.
"But -"
"Hush," he reminded her gently. "If it's book learnin' you're after, the tools are right here," he said, gesturing around the well-stocked shelves of the library. "I know I'm not the most patient man," he admitted, the day's events making him speak with brutal honestly. "And I've been told plenty of times that I'm a rubbish teacher, but if there's anything you care to learn about, you ask me, and I'll do my very best for you. But Rose, just don't ever, ever think that you need to be smarter or better educated or anything other than who you are. You're my Rose, and that's all I'll ever need."
"My Doctor," she murmured sleepily.
He smiled fondly as her eyes slipped shut. He supposed that he really should take her back to her own room, but tonight, he just needed to hold her, to have that physical reminder that he hadn't lost her. That she'd always be his Rose.
The Doctor felt a single tear trickle down his cheek as his eyes slowly focused on one of Rose's hoodies, draped over the back of the settee. He'd never been able to bring himself to move it.
He wished so much that there had been a way to save Oswin. Mostly for her own sake - she was so brilliant, and funny, and brave, but also because it's what Rose would have wanted him to do. After all this time, she still had that effect on him.