Children of Galifrey: A Doctor Who Fanfiction

Chapter 1

I wake up long before the sun rises. Always. I have to get up before my brother Runner. There are things I have to do that a kid his age shouldn't have to worry about. He already has enough on his plate. I check the barriers to make sure they are still secure. They are. The blockade is not what I worry about. I worry about the food supply. It is running dangerously low and we have no way of getting more. We can't take a step out of the house without getting gunned down by Daleks. 

I take out the allotment for the day. Most of it is for Runner. He is younger, he needs it more then I do. I don't care how much anybody else, how Father would disagree with that, my first priority is my brother. He's my responsibility.

I glance around the kitchen if you want to even call it that. The kitchen itself has been completely gutted. The only thing left is a small island and a few cabinets that have been detached from the wall and sit in a depressing state on the floor. All the windows are either boarded up or covered in blackout curtains and with electricity being spotty at best there isn't much light. The rest of the house is in similar repair but it was the best Father could do. I would have rather stayed with him although I can't imagine things would have been much better. Of course with us out of the way and "safe" he can focus on things that matter like ending this war.

I continue to stare blankly at the sad tiny room when my eye catches a tiny bit of light coming from an uncovered window corner. The corner of the blackout curtains we stapled to the walls has somehow managed to be torn off. This window is near the door. I have caught Runner staring at the outside world many times. He misses the outside and if I am being honest I do too. So far I have been able to resist the temptation but I feel so trapped in this little house. I want to see the world outside no matter how bad the picture is. I want to see my home, the capital sparkling in the distance on one side and Arcadia, Galifrey's glorious second city standing proudly in the other direction. No matter what happens to the rest of Galifrey those cities will stand, they always do.

I make up my mind just to take a peek. I carefully lift the unpinned flap and gaze out the window but the outside world is not the first thing I see. It's my reflection in the glass. I knew I looked bad that's why I avoid mirrors but I didn't know it was this bad. The person I see in the window is only a shadow of who I used to be. This girl's face is covered in little scrapes and scars. Her green eyes are blank and sunken in. Her expression tired and empty. Thin pink lips have been glued into a scowl. She tries to smile but can only manage a grimace. What used to be flowing dark brown hair has now been carelessly chopped off with a knife, it ends at a slanted angle just above her shoulders. Where did Thief go? Where did I go? If I was the girl I used to be I might cry. But I am not the girl I used to be and a lost identity is nothing to cry about. A lost life on the other hand...

Once I am finally able to look past my reflection I am met with something even more disastrous. My home in ruins. I am seeing first hand the damage done to my whole world. Everything is gray, very few buildings still stand. The Daleks have destroyed everything. Yet still standing in the distance, our capital. I am too far away to see it in detail but I can imagine it. The pure magnificence of it. My heart swells with pride. It doesn't matter how many of those evil monsters attack us, it will never fall. 

A small voice in my head tells me that this isn't true. It's a huge target. If it was so safe than Runner and I wouldn't have been evacuated secretly in the dead of night. We would be home, with Father.

"Thief... what are you doing by the window." I turn at the sound of Runner's voice. He is up early today already dressed in in a red tunic and darker red cloth pants, not unlike my own. At only 12 years old (three years younger than me) he is already taller than me and could pass for 16 or 17. He rubs the sleep out of his bright green eyes, the only trait we share. The rest of him looks scarily like our mother. His hair is a soft blond that has now grown to the same length as mine. Hundreds of freckles dot his soft nose and sharp cheekbones. Every day he looks more and more like her and that scares me. Our mother, Angel she was frail and weak, not only physically but mentally too.  At least that is how I saw her. Others might say delicate or dainty because of how pretty she was, beautiful even. If she wasn't like that then people might have seen her as I did. She did look like her namesake with long feathery white-blond hair. She was small and petite, she looked as though a small breeze could come and carry her away or blow her down. Because of her beauty, she was forgiven for things like not being strong enough to hold Runner for more than a few minutes. For being entirely dependent on Father. Everyone forgave her for everything. Everyone except for me.