Title: Looking Within
Author: Shen
Rating: PG-13
Setting/Spoilers: Starts in the lever room during Doomsday, in my Peril-verse
Characters: Rose Tyler, Mickey Smith, Jake, Jackie and Pete Tyler, OCs
Teaser: Rose has landed in the other universe. Should she hope for a way back or carve out a new life for herself? And what unexpected resources might she find on the way? Action/Adventure Reunion!fic.
Author's Note: Angst. Woe. Due to its setting (see above), this chapter needs must be depressing, so bear with me. Also, it takes place in my Peril-verse (See my profile for the list of stories). If you've read those stories and would like a recap, I've helpfully posted one at http://shengirl dot livejournal dot com/8390 dot html If you've not read them, why not give me a shot:D

Chapter 1: Silence

Rose held onto the lever with all the force of her considerable will. She could feel it; her fingers would soon break or tendons shortly rip, and still she tried to hold on that few seconds longer. Injuries, the TARDIS could heal, but if she let go-

Rose looked at the Doctor, at the panic in his face, and wanted to renew her grip. But it was impossible. The void particles only gained momentum, tugging harder and harder, never relenting, until Tyler will was no match for physics and the weakness of flesh. Instead of a break or rending of tissue, a twitch shot down her arms, a reflex, survival mechanism turned dooming.

Rose fell back, sideways really, gravity overthrown by trans-dimensional physics. A macabre Superman knockoff in reverse. She screamed. A thud. Unfamiliar arms. A glance, shock of living. Horror of realization - and she was gone.

Rose landed dazed, in a heap with Pete at the 90 degree change in forces. But she was a smart girl; it took a mere second to realize what had been done. She propelled herself off of Pete's lap, stole a button rudely from Mickey's hand, and tore over to where she knew her wall clamp would be. Hit the button. Nothing. Hit it again. Nothing. And then the horrible reality came crashing around her ears, dragging her composure with it.

"Oh god..." she croaked. She heard her mother tentatively call her name, but, heedless, she stumbled to the wall. She could sense the singularity, or more accurately, her home universe on the other side, and it compelled her to beat her hands against the wall. She was dimly aware of her cries, "Bring me back!" while her mind howled in anguish. This wasn't supposed to happen!

A flutter on the edge of her consciousness made Rose still her mind. It grew stronger, and, instinctively, she knew the Doctor had moved to occupy the same space as her, a universe apart. With a practiced mind, she reached out for her lover, finding him heartbreakingly faint but wrapping herself in him all the same. They tangled together, a jumble of emotions hurriedly shared – love, comfort, horror, panic, all in a few seconds. Then, inexorable closing of the walls continued, and it was the lever all over again. Rose and her Doctor clung uselessly until it felt like just hands clasped, then fingertips gripping, then nothing as they were ripped apart.

For the first few days, Rose would wake wanting his body and reach out lazily with her mind. Waking alone had never been unusual, after all, not with a Time Lord for a bed-mate. However, she would only be met with emptiness, a sucking void where her lover should be, and it left her feeling nothing less than desolate. She'd grown accustomed to that blue and brown presence, never intruding but there should she want it. Toying with her dreams when he felt mischievous, radiating comfort after an adventure with a poor ending, telling him when he did something oh-so-right in bed. She worried even more for him. He was a psychic creature, lonely without someone to share his head at least a little; with her gone and no other Time Lords, he must be feeling that loss even moreso than she.

She tried to explain it to her mother one day. The woman desperately wished to better understand her daughter, and talking it out was supposed to be good for people, or so she'd been told.

"We were very close, Mum..." Rose began, sitting on the sofa after the household staff had gone home. She had her legs pulled up to her chest and a pillow squeezed in her arms, the picture of insecurity, but her mother sat turned towards her with a concerned expression.

"I know, sweetheart; it would take more denial than I'm capable of to miss that," Jackie responded with a faint smile. "You loved him."

"We were... together." The way her voice cracked as she said it made Jackie's heart break, but she pressed on. Now was not the time for her tears.

"I understand; I really do. I was much the same as you when your dad died. Lost is the word. Hard to see a future without him." And how was she supposed to feel, getting everything she ever wanted while her daughter drowned in misery? It was a facsimile of survivor's guilt, and it meant Jackie would do anything to make her feel better.

"I know, Mum. That's why I'm talking to you," said Rose, offering a smile even weaker than her mother's before continuing. "But it's different, too. You knew he was dead, and as horrible as that is, that's closure. He's there, and I'm here, and I'm left to wonder if he'll find a way back to me. Could happen tomorrow; could never happen at all."

"Well, you've got to-" Jackie began, but the floodgates had been opened.

"And there's more, Mum! I'm not the same as when I started traveling. My head- I'm sort of- psychic. We were psychic, always there," Rose tried to explain, gesturing vaguely towards her head. Jackie was shocked to silence, so her daughter continued unfettered.

"And now, when I reach out, there's nothing. It's... lonely. Empty." Later, in more composed moments, Rose would call it the very definition of an 'audible silence.' "It's this yawning hole where he used to sit, and it can only be worse for him. Time Lord, he is, and there's no one else. But while I sit here, worrying for his mind, I can't help but think selfishly, too. And that's... awful."

The jargon about Time Lords blew right past Jackie, but she did at last see something she could comment on, exclaiming, "Of course you're going to worry for yourself! And right now, that's the only worry that'll do you any good. You're right; he probably needs you more than you need him. But you've got to put yourself first now, move on." Rose gave a rough laugh.

"Don't you get it? 'Moving on.' I was never meant to have to move on. Our life was dangerous, and I understood that. I was never afraid to die. But I didn't... begin to imagine that I would be separated from the Doctor. I assumed I would die first, probably young. Worst case scenario, we would die together. But live on alone? Mum, I never thought to prepare myself for that!"

"But don't you see, Rose? Every young couple thinks that. No one realizes it, early in life, that they could lose their partner. I... I didn't know you were so serious with him. But you're not alone. If you want, we could even find a support group or something. Lots of people've lost loved ones to the Cybermen, or disease, or accidents. And you've got me and Mickey and even Pete."

"Support group? But he's not dead, Mum!"

Jackie gently insisted, "No, sweetheart, but he's gone. And we'll help you pick up the pieces, if you let us." She seemed to be getting through, but her daughter still looked wretched.

"Oh, Mum, what am I going to do?"

"You're going to live. One day at a time, Rose." Jackie pulled the younger woman against her chest, where she burrowed close. The Doctor had given Jackie Tyler more than she dare hope for, and all she could do to pay him back was take the best possible care of his lover. She'd make it so she deserved what she got, do whatever Rose needed for as long as necessary. What else were mothers for?

Rose Tyler had never been known for her listlessness or uselessness. After a week, she felt like she was going mad – nothing to do all day but wallow in her misery in a house that had staff to do all the cleaning and cooking. And telly only did so much to distract her from reliving the lever room again and again in her thoughts. Had she locked the lever improperly in the first place? Why didn't either of them think of a harness? How cold must she have appeared to her mother, abandoning her in this world without so much as a glance? Why wasn't she dead? Would she prefer to be? These questions raged over and over until, one night at dinner, she spoke up.

"I need a job." Not, "I want," or, "I would like." Pete and Jackie froze for a moment and looked at her.

"There's... no rush. I got funds to spare, and quite honestly, you don't eat much," Pete offered kindly, laughing gently at his own joke. Jackie and Rose didn't smile back as widely. The truth was, Rose had barely displayed an appetite at all.

"It's probably the dramatic drop in exercise," Rose lied before continuing, "and I appreciate your hospitality. Really... it's above and beyond, to give to a total stranger. But I need work, something to do with my life."

'Something to keep me occupied until the Doctor rescues me,' part of her thought, but she tried to ignore it.

Rose hadn't quite managed to keep the desperate tone from her voice, but she took a deep breath before continuing, "Thing is, I'm new to this world. And I know you're making me an identity here, so that part's taken care of, but I'm not sure what to look for, honestly. Or what I'm qualified for. It's all sort of... new. And I thought..." She trailed off.

"That I could suggest something for you? Of course! Ask me anything, anytime. But don't call us strangers; we saved the world together once," Pete cajoled.

"Of course," said Rose, finally smiling a little. Pete really was being incredibly kind to her, and she didn't miss how he used their shared adventure as justification rather than the fact that she was Jackie's daughter. It was accepting her on her own merits.

"And on that note, how would you like to do it again?" Rose saw her mother's sunny expression drop.

Within a few days, Rose reported to Torchwood headquarters for training.

"This is... militaristic," she stated, looking through the training requirements skeptically. She had agreed to work for them on the condition she could do field work, stay active. Much to her mother's chagrin, of course, but it was what she wanted.

Pete explained, "Training's thorough, but we're not an army, exactly. Just an organization that works with them sometimes. You'll be placed on a team of people balanced for investigation, diplomacy, and a bit of muscle – perfect for following up cases of suspicious occurrences suspected to have alien involvement."

"Without attracting too much attention or dying," Rose added with a small smile. She knew a thing or two about attracting the wrong kind of attention.

"Exactly! Now, right over here..." He led her to a desk where she could fill out what seemed like reams of paperwork (with Pete's patient assistance; she hadn't had time to memorize her new personal information). Next, she had to interview with a friendly woman who turned out to be part of the very small psychic division. After a few monotonous questions, Rose politely interrupted her.

"Um, sorry, I'm not Miss Cleo. Can't foretell the future; can't read minds. Couldn't glimpse someone's thoughts even if they wanted me to. I'm just... slightly psychic," she explained, heart twinging at the term. "Me and another psychic could... form a rapport. I might sense a psychic disturbance or communicate on some level with a telepathic race – but that's it. Does that help you classify me?" Rose smiled in an attempt to cover her curtness.

"Miss Cleo?" asked Pete, mystified, but he was ignored.

Though momentarily stunned by Rose's interruption, the woman smiled once again and responded, "Yes, that should. I just need to see what potential and training you have, so I know what you need. Now if I could..." She lifted her hand from the table and reached for Rose's temple. Rose twitched but reluctantly let the woman touch her and was rewarded with an impressed expression.

"You've got blocks up! And good ones, too. Most human psychics we find run about unshielded until we teach them better."

"I sort of learned that one the hard way," Rose said with a blush, remembering the specific circumstances surrounding that lesson. Then she looked down, attention drifting from her surroundings. Remembered physical and emotional intimacy flooded her mind, and she took a moment to mourn it.

"Rose?" she heard Pete ask gently. Taking great pains to steady herself, swallowing grief and emptying her mind like only a psychic can do, she responded after several seconds.

"I'm fine, Pete." Still, she did not look him in the eye.