The Doctor watched Rose turn and leave the room. She had given him that smile that he had missed so much but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

He kept his eyes focused on the door until he was sure she was gone and then turned to face the mess of papers on the table. This may take a while, even for him.

He picked up the closest piece of paper: blueprints for Buckingham Palace. He tossed it over his shoulder, he knew his away around the palace well enough. The next file he picked up contained a list of leaders and military personnel and all their relevant information. He quickly summarised that these were the people sent in from other countries after the British Parliament fell. He put it to the side, hereby deeming it the start of his "useful" pile.

Half an hour later, his "useful" pile had only gained a few files but the floor was littered with paper. The Doctor was currently reading a lab report on the gas that killed the Zygons. Definitely Z-67. The Doctor crumpled it up and threw it over his shoulder, sighing in frustration. Surely the Resistance must have more useful information than this.

'I didn't think you were the lingering-in-doorways type,' he said to the woman who had been watching him for the past two minutes and thirty-three seconds.

'And I didn't think you were into world domination,' said Kate Stewart, striding into the room, 'but here we are.'

'This isn't about world domination,' said the Doctor. 'He doesn't want to rule the world. Why would he?'

'You tell me. He is you after all.'

The Doctor bristled, 'He's not me,' he said flatly.

Kate paused. 'No he's not,' she agreed. 'And I should have figured it out sooner. Maybe I could have stopped him.'

'No, don't do that. We can't all start blaming ourselves otherwise we'll never get anything else done…. Good to see you alive, by the way.'

Kate gave him a small smile. 'You too,' she said. 'So if he doesn't want to rule the world, what does he want?'

'I don't know.'

'Found anything useful?' she asked, indicating the files and paperwork that littered the floor.

The Doctor pointed to the small pile beside him. 'Not a lot,' he said.

'Well, I'll leave you to it then,' she said, moving towards the door.

'Where's Osgood? Is she here too?'

Kate turned at the Doctor's question. 'Dead,' she said solemnly. 'Along with the rest of the Zygons.'

The Doctor nodded. It was the human Osgood who was killed by Missy. He always suspected but now he knew for sure. And Zygon-Osgood was right… it no longer mattered.

Kate turned and walked out of the room, leaving the Doctor alone with his thoughts once again.

Why didn't he see what his meta-crisis was? He should have known by the way he so casually committed genocide even if it was against the Daleks. And the Doctor left him with Rose. Worse than that, he told her to make him better, made her think it was her duty. Well, one thing was for sure, if Rose couldn't make him better, nothing could.

The Doctor wondered, not for the first time, what it would have happened if it had been this him who had had to make the decision to leave Rose behind. He had no doubt in his mind that he would have chosen differently than his predecessor. He was a selfish old man now. He had lived too long and lost too much to be anything else.

The Doctor sighed and turned his attention back to the files that still covered the table. No use dwelling on what could have been. He needed to focus on making this right.

oOoOo

Hours passed and his "useful" pile had steadily grown but the mess on the floor had at least doubled.

He picked up another piece of paper. This was one of the ones he had picked up when he first got here. It was a rough drawing of something called a RCA. It was a standard chair but it had what looked like headphones suspended above it, obviously meant for the occupant. The chair was hooked up to a big box, which, after some squinting and a lot of imagination, the Doctor figured must have been some sort of lab machine.

There was some notes underneath the drawing. The Doctor recognised them as Rose's handwriting.

The Valeyard feeds blood into the machine. Blood control? But it's my blood. Always my blood. Why? Bad Wolf?

The Doctor didn't like the sound of that.

I never saw the machine in action, but I heard the screams. Whatever experiment the Valeyard is running, none of his test subjects survive.

He flipped the piece of paper over and read the back. The letter were written in big bold writing at the top of the page. Underneath each letter was a list of words in a number of different types of handwriting. People were trying to figure out what the initials stood for.

Under the letter R, there were five words written that hadn't been crossed out: Random, Reverse, Regeneration, Regulating, and Relative. The letter C had three words: Chair, Chamber, and Control. The last letter had four: Attachment, Analysier, Arrangement, and Arch.

The Doctor flipped the paper over to look at the picture again. He could see it now. It was crude but it was definitely what he thought it was. He flipped the page over once more and grabbed a pen. He circled the word they guessed correctly and then added another one to the "C" list and circled that too. He didn't know what the R stood for but it didn't matter, he knew what the device was for. He should have guessed the Valeyard would be up to something like this. He should tell Rose. But should he wake her or should he wait? She had only been asleep for three and a half hours.

He heard footsteps behind him, it seemed the decision had been made for him.

'I know what-'

Something heavy slammed against the side of his head and everything went black.