Lyra paced her room. "Let me out, you monsters!" She yelled at the walls. The nurses had stopped listening to her cries a long, long time ago. Almost eight hundred and ninety-seven years ago, to be exact. "Let me out, torturers! You hurt me, let me die!"
"Now, Lyra, why would you do that, when I'm right here?" Asked a voice from the door.
"Is that really you? Brother?"
"Don't say that here, Queenie. My chosen name is the Doctor."
"I think you'll always be Brother. Or, better yet, Caelum. You picked that name, remember?" Lyra asked as she moved towards her brother. "It isn't your real name, of course, but you loved it. You always went by Cael when we were little. Do you remember when we went to the TARDIS garden and you wanted to fly one so badly they actually let you sit inside? I remember. I remember when I first got sick. Morae just thought it was a little sickness. Delphinus said it was serious. Did they ever get back together after that?"
"No, Lyra. Mum and Dad never spoke again, except to pay for the TARDIS. They're gone, now. So are Monroe and Jaylee and Torah. All of them, dead. In the blink of an eye, they died." Lyra put her fragile grey hand on the Doctor's shoulder.
"I'm so sorry, Cael."
"It's the Doctor now," he replied.
Lyra paused before speaking again. "They told me, you know. As soon as I asked about it, they told me. I remember when Monroe took me here in his TARDIS. He said they had the best medical care in the whole of the universe. When he left, I was only five. Five years old, Cael. And my big brother left me in a strange galaxy with doctors who poked and prodded me with needles and machines. Monroe was only fifteen. He thought that the doctors here were going to cure me, bring me home. And then I found out what happened. And the doctors here did not care if I made it home alive because I have no home to go to. So, forgive me, Caelum, if I cannot call you a doctor."
"I'm sorry, Lyra. I was only five too, you know. When you left. I don't really know you. You're my sister, but you're not. I built my own family on Gallifrey, without Morae or Delphinus. Or you, or Monroe or any of our siblings. But I built my own family, Lyra. You are welcome to be a part of it, but I need to save my son before I save a stranger."
"You couldn't even save your home planet, Caelum. What makes you think you could save a life?"
"Because there was nothing left of Gallifrey when I burnt it. My son is here and alive and will be well. He is not a dead stranger, Lyra, and I don't want you to be either. So, tell me how to get him through this disease." Lyra crinkled her nose.
"They tell you the logistics of the disease, but never what it's like. I can see, but it's difficult. I can see you all grown up, with your messy brown hair and dark eyes and need to shave, God. You look tired, Brother. I can't feel anything, but I know it's there. It's odd. There's your shoulder, skinny as a pole, under my palm, and I see it, but I do not feel it. If I look away, I can sense it. But I don't feel anything. I almost became a Weeping Angel. Take me to your son, Cael, and let me meet his mum, and I will be content, and I will help you in any way I can." Lyra held her breath. She needed to know her twin brother and needed to know why they survived out of everyone on Gallifrey. "Please, Caelum. Please," she begged.
"Alright. I'll take you to my son. You don't touch him, though. He's still incredibly sick and we're trying new cures for him, but be careful, Lyra." The Doctor grabbed his sister's hand and led her through the halls, twisting and turning until they reached the emergency pediatrics wing. "Rose?" The Doctor called. He went from room to room, glancing in each. He finally came to a sealed room, and inside he could see his son lying on the bed, Rose sitting in the chair next to the bed, and Martha moving around the room, organizing. "See the blonde girl there, Lyra? That's Rose. She's his mum. That's Martha, the one you met earlier. For a while, I lost Rose, and Martha travelled with me. We're taking her home soon." The Doctor slid open the pressurized door. Rose turned around and saw him first. She jumped up and ran to give him a hug, and he returned it just as fiercely.
"Doctor, his color is normal! Look," Rose said, leading him to their son. "Look, his skin is perfectly healthy. He's still sleeping, though, but he hasn't had any issues since we put him on the medication," she explained, smiling down at Gallifrey.
"Rose, this is Queenie. Queenie, Rose Tyler. You've met Martha already." The Doctor turned to Gallifrey. "And this is my son," he said softly, putting a hand on his son's forehead. "No fever." Lyra gazed through her cone eyes enviously.
"Cael get me on that medication."
"I can't, Lyra. I don't have the money to, and neither do you. You don't have anyone to monitor you, and this isn't tested for adults. You aren't even alive anymore, Lyra. You're moving stone!" Lyra frowned. Just then, a nurse—this one from Raxacoricofallapatorius—came in. In a buzzing voice, she announced, "visiting hours are over, all except patients are asked to leave, thank you," and left. Rose kissed the top of her son's head and the Doctor squeezed his hand. They walked side by side, their hands intertwined, but in a somber way. Martha walked a bit ahead of the pair. When they reached the TARDIS, they all sat inside a bit pathetically by the console on the ground.
"We ought to take you home, Martha. You've got a medical degree to get. We'll keep you updated on his condition, but let's take you home." The Doctor tried to be energetic and cheerful, but it didn't work. He slowly moved some levers and gently hit buttons. Even the TARDIS sounded tired. They reached Martha's flat and hugged her goodbye. "You'll make a fantastic doctor, Martha. Doctor Jones. It's got a nice ring to it," the Doctor smiled. He hugged Martha one last time before letting her out the door.