DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who or the planet Gallifrey, but Alexia and the plot are mine. Much of what the Doctor says about the planet is adapted from "The Sound of Drums" (Season 3, Episode 12).

Author's Note: (warning) This chapter is significantly shorter than all the others, but I promise that the next chapter should be up later today! (: Enjoy.
(Constructive omments & suggestions welcome.)

Review Replies:
BlueEyedDreamer97/Kris: I haven't had a chance to read any of your fanfictions yet, but when I finish with this one then I'll definitely check 'em out. But if you read a lot, then I highly doubt that you suck. (:

Chapter 7: Gallifrey

"It was the most extraordinary planet in the entire universe. The Shining World of the Seventh System, within the constellation of Kasterborous. The second sun would rise in the south, making the mountains shimmer. The trees had silver leaves and, when the sun glittered on them just right in the early morning, it looked like a forest of living fire. On the continent of Wild Endeavor, in the mountains of Solace and Solitude, was the Citadel of the Timelords. It watched over the galaxies below, like a silent, non-intrusive guardian. It was the most ancient, most beautiful planet.

"The children of Gallifrey would be taken to go to the Academy and at only eight years old, just a child, they would go as a novice to see the Untempered Schism, the initiation to life as a Timelord. It's a gap in the fabric of reality, through which can be seen the whole of the time vortex." The Doctor looks upward with a reminiscent smile brightening his features as he tells me of our shared home world.

A longing ache comes to my chest and, although I don't remember all of what he tells me, I miss my lovely home planet.

"What did the Dalek want from us? I remember them invading, and I remember bombs igniting the sky—all the bodies! It was terrible!" My chest tightens into a knot, and I feel tears begin to well up in my eyes but I fight them back. The Doctor looks as pained as I do and he reaches out to grab my hand. Looking up, I meet his eyes through a blur of tears. "I can't believe you're really here—I mean, I thought I was the last one left. My family—they're all gone."

The images of my children and grandpa lying lifelessly beside me flash through my mind. Then comes the memories of my husband, the one I didn't have time to try and find. But I seen all the bombs, I had seen the utter destruction, and my lover was on the front lines. There's no possible way he could have survived that.

Sobs rack my frame and I burry my head in my hands just like the figure the Doctor showed me of the Weeping Angel. Strong arms embrace me and I lean deeper into them. The Doctor squeezes me tight and I cry into his shoulder.

"I lost them all, Doctor! My babies—my children." I choke out between the sobbing. "The Dalek blew up the school!" I scream, my grief churns into searing rage without warning. My fists clench so tight that my knuckles turn white and the skin feels like it's going to tear.

The Doctor pushes away to look deep into my eyes and I'm surprised to see the horrified agony on his face. "Did you have children there, too?" When I ask him this, the pain on his face intensifies and his hold on me slackens slightly. "I'm so sorry." I whisper.

Together, we cry and cry. The doctor, a man that I saw as so unbreakable, is crying in my arms—and I in his. Together we share the pain and grief of the loss we share—our homes, our friends, and our families. I don't know how long we stay like that, clinging desperately to each other so as not to lose the one last piece of our species, and the memories of our lost planet. But when the pain ebbs away, ever so slightly, and with my physical wound and the rampant emotions of the day, I'm exhausted. The Doctor leads me to a room that is not visible from the main control station, and finally, I slip into the pleasant blankness of sleep.