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oncoming_stormsThere's never any time.
The irony of being a Timelord, he supposes.
.There's a split second before a child becomes a man and another split second before he's holding his own grandchild in his arms. He watches buildings rise and stars fall, and he's standing on his home planet a split second before he wants to leave In the next second, he's handing the grandchild away (when did she grow to be a woman? Wasn't it just a split second ago she was a precocious little girl?) to be a bride. In a split second he leaves her and in the next he regrets it.
There's never any time.
Another second and he feels two hearts beat underneath his breast, as he's lost his first regeneration. Seconds tick by, and he gathers companions and loses them (and has them ripped away). Another second, and he's exiled. Another, he's back in his planet's good graces. Another, and suddenly he's elected President. Another, and he's on the run again. Things change so quickly, they move so fast. He can't keep up, it seems, all that irony is weighing him down.
There's never any time.
Another second ticks. He blinks away tears as memories of his home planet swim before his eyes. Wasn't it a second ago that he was resenting the ground beneath his Gallifrey-bound feet? In the same second, he finds a friend (a love), and before the next second ticks, he's attached, he's holding on for dear life. Wasn't it a second ago that he swore he'd never give his hearts to another? He falls in love in a split second (but it takes centuries to move on).
In a split second, he decides to trade his life for hers. (If another appeared, he'd do it again.)
There's never any time.
Another second, and she's screaming screaming falling and he can't catch her. It takes a split second, but she's saved, and in that instant, he's alone again. A split second and he's reaching for her, but he's just an image. Had he told her he loved her a split second sooner, she'd have heard him. He waits for the centuries to roll in, and eventually the hurt will heal.
There's never any time.
Another split second, and her hand is in his, and he's found a friend. Split second decision, of course, to give her just one trip. Several seconds, and suddenly she's more than just a passenger. A split second later, she's in his home, invading his life and he hates it. Another second, and he wouldn't be without her. Another second, and he is. There's no time to grieve or miss or feel, things just move too fast, and the irony of how much time he's had and how little he has never escapes him.
There's never any time.
He's old, now. Very old. Impossibly old, he might've said at one point. Washed up, used up. Dry and brittle, like the fabric of the universe. No friend to hold his hand this time, he's alone (but there are so many seconds in there that he's been alone, why does this one have to be any different?) No more time for split second decisions, his clock is ticked down to zero, and there aren't anymore sleeping forms in his mind to wake up, no more regenerations to be had. For a second, he wishes he wasn't alone.
There's never any time to fulfill wishes when you're a Timelord. He doesn't have time to see the irony in it.
Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 590
The irony of being a Timelord, he supposes.
.There's a split second before a child becomes a man and another split second before he's holding his own grandchild in his arms. He watches buildings rise and stars fall, and he's standing on his home planet a split second before he wants to leave In the next second, he's handing the grandchild away (when did she grow to be a woman? Wasn't it just a split second ago she was a precocious little girl?) to be a bride. In a split second he leaves her and in the next he regrets it.
There's never any time.
Another second and he feels two hearts beat underneath his breast, as he's lost his first regeneration. Seconds tick by, and he gathers companions and loses them (and has them ripped away). Another second, and he's exiled. Another, he's back in his planet's good graces. Another, and suddenly he's elected President. Another, and he's on the run again. Things change so quickly, they move so fast. He can't keep up, it seems, all that irony is weighing him down.
There's never any time.
Another second ticks. He blinks away tears as memories of his home planet swim before his eyes. Wasn't it a second ago that he was resenting the ground beneath his Gallifrey-bound feet? In the same second, he finds a friend (a love), and before the next second ticks, he's attached, he's holding on for dear life. Wasn't it a second ago that he swore he'd never give his hearts to another? He falls in love in a split second (but it takes centuries to move on).
In a split second, he decides to trade his life for hers. (If another appeared, he'd do it again.)
There's never any time.
Another second, and she's screaming screaming falling and he can't catch her. It takes a split second, but she's saved, and in that instant, he's alone again. A split second and he's reaching for her, but he's just an image. Had he told her he loved her a split second sooner, she'd have heard him. He waits for the centuries to roll in, and eventually the hurt will heal.
There's never any time.
Another split second, and her hand is in his, and he's found a friend. Split second decision, of course, to give her just one trip. Several seconds, and suddenly she's more than just a passenger. A split second later, she's in his home, invading his life and he hates it. Another second, and he wouldn't be without her. Another second, and he is. There's no time to grieve or miss or feel, things just move too fast, and the irony of how much time he's had and how little he has never escapes him.
There's never any time.
He's old, now. Very old. Impossibly old, he might've said at one point. Washed up, used up. Dry and brittle, like the fabric of the universe. No friend to hold his hand this time, he's alone (but there are so many seconds in there that he's been alone, why does this one have to be any different?) No more time for split second decisions, his clock is ticked down to zero, and there aren't anymore sleeping forms in his mind to wake up, no more regenerations to be had. For a second, he wishes he wasn't alone.
There's never any time to fulfill wishes when you're a Timelord. He doesn't have time to see the irony in it.
Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 590
