Hello again!

I know I said I was busy, but this has been annoying me for ages. I'm not sure when I'll finish the second chapter, so there's no guarantee of anything. I might not even finish this. I was bored waiting for my Irish oral, there was nothing to do, this happened. It's a bit short, but I'm hoping I can increase the size with future chapters.

Anyway, I'm pretty much going for this thing to be themed around time. How original. Each chapter will represent a quarter of the clock (E.g. This chapter's at 12:00, next one will be at 3:00, and so on). Just because 3:00 follows 12:00 does not mean the chapter will be set three hours after. The 3:00 I'm working on is supposed to be 3:00 pm, while this is 12:00 am. Get it?

Enjoy!


12:00 AM

There was fire.

There was so much fire. Flames licked and curled around his haven, taunting him as he worked frantically to mend the rusty machinery. He heard screams of terror and wailing from the outside and quickened his shaking hands, determined to find a way out, to escape. A robotic cry, screaming out the word that all Gallifreyens had grown to fear, made him freeze in fright. He waited for around ten seconds, before letting his breath out in a relieved sigh and adding the finishing touches to his project.

It was done. A relieved chuckle fled from his lips as he took a step back to examine his work. The helmet looked slightly hazardous, but if his calculations were correct (and they always were), then it would be perfectly safe for the job intended. He placed the helmet around his head, feeling it push against his skull. He fondly stroked his craftsmanship, touching the the subtle dents. It had been destroyed and abandoned when he'd come across it. He'd rescued it. He reached for the most important part, the pocket watch that was to contain everything he was, and placed it in the machine anxiously. He looked around the room, the sentient machine, that he resided in.

"Thank you."

There was a slight whirring noise that probably translated as 'Get a move on!'. That was so much like her. He chuckled, setting the contraption to make sure his name remained the same, if not similar. He liked his name, it suited him well. It was why he picked it. He looked up, finger over the 'start' button, and decided he wasn't going without a touch of the drama he was so well known for.

"Toodles."

And then Izaya woke up.

He clutched his sheets tightly, his thoughts erratic and fearful. What the hell was that? It had felt so... real. Did it mean anything? Izaya dismissed the idea from his jumbled thoughts as soon as it arrived. Of course it didn't. It was only a dream, albeit one that had shook him, and he should just go back to sleep.

Although...

He looked over to his LED alarm clock. It read 2:43. Goddamn, who'd still be awake? He grabbed his phone off the dresser and flicked through his contact list. Nope...no...wants to kill him...nope...Shinra! Shinra would surely be awake, dissecting some unfortunate cat or something. He called the number and lay back, breathing deeply.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hey Shinra," he mumbled, sighing in relief.

"Oh, Izaya. Do you know what time it is?! ...Are you alright? You sound kind of strange."

"I'm fine just... Do you know anything about strange dreams?"

A sigh.

"Izaya, I'm a doctor, not a psychic. Go back to sleep," Shinra muttered, hanging up.

Izaya hesitated, considering calling back, before deciding that Shinra was probably right. He should just go back to sleep and forget the nightmare. He flopped back into bed and shut his eyes tightly, willing himself to forget.

Which was harder than it seemed.