Reunions and Introductions.
Six months. For the past six months, Rose Tyler had searched high and low, without success, and with one distinct aim etched onto her brain. To find that one man in six billion. That one alien. The last time lord in existence; her Doctor. She had had no indication as to where he might be; Torchwood had barely managed to transport her between the two universes in the impending emergency. She wondered if the Doctor was aware of it yet. Was the Doctor aware that every single universe in existence was in grave danger?
Almost two years since that fateful day upon which Rose had been forced into a parallel world; hers and the Doctor's hearts cruelly torn out of their being and discarded hurriedly, viciously and cruelly, Rose stepped again into the world in which she had been born. The day she'd been forced into the alternative universe, Rose had felt not dissimilar to a child incapable of acceptable behaviour; aggressive, naughty, rebellious. But the way in which she had fallen; been teleported, was much, much worse than being dragged, hands first, to her lonely, deserted, empty bedroom. Words did not exist to express the extent to which it was worse than being physically pulled around; Rose was only aware that it had felt like she had been forcibly pulled from her life, from her home world, her Doctor. Upon many occasions; almost latterly, Rose had wished that she had simply fallen into the void, with the Daleks and Cybermen; the very evil that she and the Doctor had been so savagely parted in attempting to rid the world of. Life without the Doctor had unquestionably been worse than death on a massive scale. Although considered dead on her world, she knew that real death would have been better than living without him. Every day for Rose was one too many without the Doctor; a heartbreaking, insurmountable and uphill struggle to pass the time, which had been slowed by millions of times the very second Pete Tyler had teleported her into the parallel universe. Pete Tyler. But he was not her dad. Her dad, whom the Doctor had taken her to see; would never have teleported her into a parallel universe like that. He had only known the Doctor for a mere few hours, but understood the complexity and extent of her feelings for the time lord. He would have known how much she would suffer to be trapped on a different world to her Doctor, and would never have even contemplated teleporting her into it. He'd have known that she'd have preferred death, and co-operated with her wishes whatever anyone said, even Jackie.
Rose would have killed herself long ago, believing the opportunity which now had come into her grasp to be impossible, unfathomable and, frankly, too good to be true. Her life meant nothing without him in it. She had been empty; more empty even than the empty citizens of 1940's London, turned into monsters by the nanogenes within a medical warship. She was surrounded by people, but they were no longer her family. She'd expected her mother, who had survived twenty years long, hard and painful yeasrs without her soul mate; and had not in reality been reunited with him; to understand how much of a torment a life without the Doctor was for her. But no. Jackie had simply expected her daughter to be teary for a minimal period, and then be grateful. Gratitude. How could she possibly show gratitude to the man who'd separated her from her Doctor in the most phenomenal way? And teary did not cover it. Tears had cascaded from her once beautiful face; hour after hour, day after day, week after week, month after month. And they had failed to notice. They'd made the mansion like a prison; watching her, following her, suffocating her. All to make sure she did not kill herself; rid herself of a life that had far exceeded the final point at which it was remotely worth living. Mickey. Mickey Smith had simply concluded that Rose still had a companion, someone to love her. She and Mickey were not love. She'd be lucky if Mickey would agree to drive her to Scotland, even when he was almost unconscious on alcohol, and could barely comprehend her requests. But the Doctor would be tortured until the end of time for her; of this she was certain. Her Doctor. And she would search for him until the end of time, because that was real love.
Rose would find him. Six months on her own world had amounted to nothing, but it was not over. This was not the end. She would find him; she needed him. She'd scour every other universe on the remote chance that he'd have gone to them searching for her; not knowing which one she'd been trapped in. But of course he knew. She'd still search every other universe before returning to her miserable, pitiful, shadow of an existence on Pete Tyler's universe.
For six months previously, Rose had scoured the universe for every trace of danger, and sifted each individual incident for her Doctor. She'd not even caught a glimpse of anything the colour of the TARDIS, never mind succeeded in finding the TARDIS, or even better, him. She was aware that if she found the TARDIS, she'd found him. She needed a new approach; a fresh approach, a more sophisticated approach.
Sarah Jane. A successful, profitable and heavily experienced journalist, Sarah would know of more danger filled incidents than Rose herself would be capable of finding if she spent the entirety of the following decade researching danger, catastrophes at a global level, disasters. She'd increase Rose's chances of being reunited with the Doctor, and she'd most probably aid her in scouring the incidents to find him; all while reporting on them. She'd invited Rose to find her. Said that if she needed her; at any time, to find her. And that was what she would do. Rose had eventually bonded with Sarah due to their similar experiences with the one time lord, and if she did not find the Doctor again, Sarah, she was sure, would prove better company than her supposed family, who were meant to love her and care about her so much. Sarah would make her feel closer to the Doctor, and she'd not tear her heart into tiny shards and put them on display for the entire universe to see. Sarah Jane would not abandon her. She would not let her down.