Author's Note: Braxiatel is the Doctor's brother. You can see the family resemblance, sometimes.

Cavab

Romana blinked open her eyes, struggling to breathe the air, as it burned with decaying time around her. The landscape was already dissolving, bits of it burning out of time, with residue of the Dalek weapon that the Time Lords called the Eternity Blaze.

They had countered with their own weapon — the Finger of Forever. Which had been constructed with much help from the artifacts Braxiatel had passed to her, throughout the war.

Now… the planet didn't have long left.

Romana squinted through the dimness. Trying to make out the face of the person who'd awakened her.

"Doctor?" Romana asked.

"Is currently half-way across the universe," came Braxiatel's voice, "and 3,000 years in the past. At the next campaign." He placed his arms around her shoulders, and tried to help her stand. "Can you walk?"

"With some assistance, yes," Romana said. Coughing, as the dust stirred around them. "He survived, then?"

"From what I can gather," Braxiatel said. "But it still remains to be seen if we will."

The planet shook.

The burning time flaring around them.

Romana gritted her teeth, trying to walk. But nearly fell over with her first step. Braxiatel caught her.

"It's my own stupid fault," Romana excused herself. Struggling forwards, through the pain, trying to make as though it didn't bother her. She suspected her leg was broken, though, and much more besides. "I was caught behind enemy lines. I knew it was only a matter of time before the Finger of Forever. I saw they were close to detecting it, and stalled them. Rather too well."

They both could smell reality charring around them. Romana caught sight of phantoms of those lost in the battle, crying out for her as they were absorbed in empty pockets of null time.

"The Doctor discovered I was missing, and rushed in to get me out," Romana concluded. Her jaw set and her eyes determined, as she stumbled ahead fast as she could. She was back to exuding as much of her authoritative and in-control air as she could. "We were caught in the blast, together. For a moment… I thought he'd…"

She nearly fell, again.

And Braxiatel clutched her, in an even tighter grip. Making sure she didn't fall or slow her step.

They could both see the TT capsule, just ahead of them. Nestled in the embers of a burning reality.

"Of course, if he was saved," said Romana, hobbling towards it with every scrap of energy left in her, "it's safe to assume that I was left behind on purpose."

Braxiatel grabbed for the key, and unlocked the TARDIS doors. Pulling her inside, just as the null time roared up again and began to eat away, even more, at the world around them.

He eased Romana to the ground, then snapped the doors shut.

"I didn't expect Rassilon to make his move so early," Romana said. Gritting her teeth, as she half-crawled to the console, and pulled herself back to her feet. "He must be more eager to get rid of me than I thought."

"You should rest," Braxiatel told her.

Romana gave a drawn-out sigh, as she began to help him program the console. "Why men are always so determined to prove they can pilot a six-person TARDIS by themselves is a mystery to me." She pulled a lever, and felt out and programmed the gravitic controls. "I know the Finger of Forever. If you're going to have any hope of escaping it, you'll need my help."

The capsule bucked, as the null time made the planet collapse in on itself.

Dragging the TARDIS towards the singularity.

"Increase materializers to full capacity," Romana commanded him. Throwing three switches into reverse. "Warp stabilizers to overload."

But that would never be enough, and Braxiatel clearly knew it.

With a cursory glance around himself, he threw everything into reverse, then ejected 3/4 of the interior architecture.

Throwing the TARDIS out of the planet, and back into the vortex.

"Three fourths," Romana commented. "With no way of assuring this room wasn't jettisoned. And all automatic teleport functions disabled due to the null field." She looked up at him, vaguely amused. "Yes. Every so often, you can see the family resemblance."

Braxiatel said nothing.

Focused on evading the Dalek ships that they'd attracted, now following them through the vortex.

"Including," Romana continued, limping to the other side of the console, "the rather infuriating way you two have of deciding you know best, without thinking to consult me, first." She threw down her fist, and punched in the override to Braxiatel's controls. "Back to Gallifrey, Braxiatel."

Braxiatel was quiet for a long time.

Then, "I don't think that would be wise."

"Oh, there's no doubt of that," Romana agreed. "But this is war, Braxiatel. And I intend to fight till the bitter end."

"Rassilon…"

"…is of little or no importance," Romana cut in. Her knuckles were turning white, as she struggled to keep herself upright through the pain. "I swore an oath to defend Gallifrey. And my oath still stands. Whatever Rassilon may or may not think."

She stood up straight and tall.

Staring Braxiatel down.

"Is that perfectly understood, Braxiatel?" Romana demanded.

Braxiatel met her eyes with his own, for a long time. Watching as she attempted to keep some dignity, despite her injuries.

Then gave in.

And returned them to Gallifrey.

"As you wish, my Lady," Braxiatel said.

Gallifrey, during the Time War

Braxiatel had remained beside Romana, as she recovered. Until the moment before she regained consciousness, at which point he slipped out the door.

And attempted to use his Time Ring.

He wasn't terribly surprised that it didn't work.

Disappointed… but not surprised.

Almost certainly a bio-variance built into the transduction barrier. To make sure he couldn't leave if he wanted to.

Which meant that Braxiatel's next stop was to remove that particular aspect from the transduction barrier. And rebuild it to allow him passage, out.

It took him little time to crack the code for the doors.

The doors should have been impossible to decode, of course. But Braxiatel, himself, had once had a hand in programming the locking mechanisms. After that nasty business with the Apocalypse Element had exposed their vulnerabilities.

Braxiatel felt a vague sense of satisfaction, as the doors slid open, to allow him access to the Transduction Barrier controls. He raced inside.

But stopped, several steps in.

"Lord Braxiatel," said Rassilon, perched expectantly in the center of the room. "I suppose this means you wish to leave us."

Braxiatel hesitated.

"You wish to abandon Gallifrey at its time of greatest need," Rassilon continued, standing up to his full height, robes resplendent around him. "Forsake your duty as a Time Lord and run away like a terrified child."

"My Lord," Braxiatel said, bowing low. "Forgive me, but… I doubt I'd make a very good soldier."

Rassilon didn't drop his imperial glare.

"I came for a single purpose," Braxiatel said. "And with your rather generous assistance, I've accomplished that purpose. Now, if you don't mind…"

"If you truly wish to depart," Rassilon said, stepping away from the controls, "I cannot stop you. The choice is yours."

Braxiatel hesitated, again.

Certain that this was all part of some complex trap.

But still began to head past Lord Rassilon, towards the transduction barrier controls.

"Of course, it's a pity," Rassilon continued, "about the Lady Romanadvoratralundar."

Braxiatel froze in place.

Hand over the controls.

But he didn't press any of them.

"There are many on Gallifrey who still look up to her and follow her," Rassilon continued, his voice casual, yet pointed. "But this is a time of war. I cannot encourage the growth of factionalism or dissent amongst the ranks. That might lead to disaster."

Braxiatel dropped his hand, back to his side. "I see."

And turned to face Rassilon.

"And I suppose you're about to say something tiresome," said Braxiatel, "about how you'll keep her alive… if she proves useful."

"Something like that," Rassilon agreed. "It all depends… on you."

"I thought it might," Braxiatel muttered. He looked down at the time ring in his hand. Then back up at Rassilon. "Of course, you haven't considered the possibility that I might not care what happens to the Lady Romana."

"Oh, come now!" Rassilon replied, stepping towards Braxiatel. "You are one of her most fervent followers." Then, with a voice like ice, added, "She doesn't know quite how fervent. Does she?"

Braxiatel said nothing.

"Yes, I can see it, hiding behind that calm veneer," Rassilon observed. "That fire, when I mention her death. That hint of jealousy, when she speaks of the Doctor. That second of bliss, when she looks at you as her savior."

"I think you must be mistaken," Braxiatel said, slowly.

Rassilon gestured at the transduction barrier controls. "Then leave!" he said. "Prove you care nothing for her at all. Save yourself and leave her behind, to die."

Braxiatel didn't move. For several long minutes.

Then, with a sigh, he surrendered the time ring to Rassilon.

"What do you wish me to do, my Lord?" Braxiatel asked.

Gallifrey, present-day

"Of course, I was less useful as a soldier on the front lines," Braxiatel explained to Jenny. "That much was clear. I was mostly used to build… rather nasty weapons. Or help devise strategies."

"But you did fight," Jenny said. "Everyone here acknowledges that."

"We all fought," Braxiatel said. Trying to drive away memories… of screaming Daleks and Time Lords dying, all around him… of time twisting and contorting and being ripped apart… of planets burned to dust simply to deny the Daleks access to the minerals the planets contained…

He shook his head.

And all phantoms of the past fell away.

"Vyonda, the fall of the Herzo Gates, the Climb of the Regoz Tower," said Braxiatel. "And more battles. More than I care to list — or remember. I did my part, for the War. I saw… more than enough."