Spinning
'Only the colours. Nothing else.'
A.N - I wrote this story with Ten and Donna in my head, but works just as well with Nine or Ten and any female companion. No Pairings.
Spinning faster, I twirl in sync to the Time Rotor. My skirt flares out, a whirlwind of colour in a sea of (relative) normallacy.
She looks on strangely, but the Doctor understands me enough to simply let me be.
We understand each other in a strange way, and in some way, we need each other.
I need him like I need my sister; someone to protect, someone to help.
He needs me like he needs his many companions; someone to make him remember, and never let him forget why he had to do it.
I can spin forever.
I was an adult from birth. Now I'm a child.
I can be a child forever.
I can't tell right from left anymore.
I can't even tell up from down anymore.
I don't care anymore.
Laughter ripples past my lips, joyous and infectous.
They can't help but join in my laughter.
I fall to the floor.
I'm dizzy, and I'm slightly sick. But I'm happy.
There's a feeling, blossoming deep inside of me.
I feel as though I can stand forver, battered always by the winds of time, but never to succumb to them.
I feel as though I can stare death in the face, and I can laugh.
I feel as though I can smile forever, and dance forever, and sing forever, and laugh forever, and just live forever.
In a way I feel ... I feel normal.
In a way I feel ... I feel happy.
Sat there, on the floor that feels like a cheese grater against my legs.
Sat there, in a sentient machine.
Sat there, surrounded by the coral that is my home.
My true home.
The colour doesn't matter, nor the desktop design.
Home is where the heart is.
I've found my heart.
I've found my home.
I'd rather die a thousand pain-filled deaths than give it up.
There is something coming.
I can feel it in the dark.
I can feel it in the light.
I can feel it in everything, and in anything, and in nothing.
But there is something coming.
And it's all going to change.
It's changing right now.
It already has changed.
... I hate tenses.