He burned…
Burned as bright as a sun, yet dim as a shadow. He felt fire course through his very blood eating away at his soul. He was Death, the destroyer of worlds, the OncomingStorm. He was the Savior of one and the ending of another, the coward that survived. And around him it burned.
Home…Sanctuary…Gallifrey…it burned before its time.
And the Coward survived.
Yes he lived, even though he begged death to dance with him. Wished for an ending to the eternal torment of his soul, the emptiness of his mind. He begged, but Death is too fickle a master and Time too possessive a mistress. So around him they waltz, teasing him at the peripheral of his senses. Never granting him the one wish he wanted.
They dance, while he burns…
Time and Death. Death and Time. Forever linked. Forever apart of each other, and he, a slave to their call. So he dances. He burns. He grieves. He exists. The Wanderer without a home. The lonely God. And then in an instant everything changed. One word. One action. One moment.
"Run!"
The burning stopped.
So simple a thing, a hand to hold. Yet if brought back life. It fought off the burning, chased off the nightmares. Time and Death still danced around him, but he was deaf to their music. She was here. She outshined the shadows. She was so much, but so little. Arm-in-arm, hand-in-hand, heart-in-heart they danced their own waltz among the stars.
Until she burned…
She burned. Brighter…stronger…she burned to save him. She burned as she died. She burned and only he could end it.
"I want you safe. My Doctor. Protected from the false God."
Time and Death now had a new partner in their unending dance, and she burned for the rhythm of the music. He was nothing compared to her, she burned as he begged. She died as he hoped.
"Come 'ere. I think you need a Doctor."
He burned. She burned.
The dance paused, Time and Death undecided between their Champion and their Child. One must die so the other may live. One must burn to set the other free. One must walk a path that would lead to the parting. He burned. She burned…and around them the Dance resumed.
He burned.
Fire coursed through his very body, change, rebirth, the Phoenix of Legend. Death released its grip upon his soul for a brief moment and allowed the nightmare to pass. The shadow, the screams, the faces, the grief all released in a moment of fire. He burned and from the ashes was reborn.
He burned…and was healed. She burned…and was saved.
He burned…she burned…around them Time and Death danced. She promised forever. He promised the Coming Storm. Time promised nothing. Death promised endings.
He burned…she burned…they burned…and the Storm came…but it did not matter.
For they burned as one.