Jack Harkness went through the lists of deaths, going down, down. 'P's, 'Q's, 'T's.
Townhall P.
Tvere O.
The next name on the list.
Tyler R.
Tyler. The name went through his head on repeat. He slowly got up and walked over to Toshika.
"Tosh. Look up Rose Tyler."
She frowned up at him. His voice was strangely detached.
"Why? Is it –"
"Just do it."
She nodded, and searched.
"Here, Rose Tyler."
Images filled the screen, a smiling blonde girl, holding her diploma, a picture of her hugging a dark haired man in a pinstriped suit.
Jack made a funny noise in his throat on the last one.
"Any d-death certificates?"
Tosh scrolled down.
"Yeah, here, said she died four days ago."
Tosh turned around and saw Jack was gone.
He ran as fast as he could, out of the building, to the street. Waving down a cab, sliding into it. He told the driver an address.
The Powell Estate.
He stood in front of the building, clutching his sides together as if to get rid of the pain that was rising up inside of him.
Every lost word, everything he had wanted to say but hadn't, every unsaid apology was filling up his mind.
A choked sob escaped him. He fell to his knees, his head hanging low.
All the things he had wanted to tell her. All the things he never would. The things he would put off, planning to say next time. Well, there was no next time. There never would be.
His best friend, his companion. When he needed someone, he would go to her. His love. The only woman he had ever loved was gone.
Rose Tyler. Rose Tyler. Rose Tyler.
Wonderful Rose Tyler, who had survived so much, who had seen so many things, was gone. She had left an impact on the world, yet no one knew except for him. Him and the Doctor.
No one knew just how many times the universe would have crumbled, how many times the world would have ended with out the beautiful blonde English woman.
She had been more to him than that. She was special.
Rose Tyler.
His only love, his stunning companion.
He felt a crushing wave of blackness envelop him.
Oh, Rose. His Rosie.
My Rose. My strong, beautiful, lovely, brilliant Rose. Are you happy? Oh, Rose, I love you. I always have and I always will. Forever.
Jack stood up headed back to Torchwood. There was work to do.
Ever since that day, his team noticed a subtly change in him. He was not as quick to smile, he didn't make as many jokes, and he was often caught looking off into space, a look of indescribable sorrow on his face.
No one could argue that the death of that blonde girl, Rose Tyler, had drastically changed Jack Harkness, and he would never be the same.