A.N. Just a little something with Nine. I wrote this back in school after one of my exams so my brain was kinda dead at the time. I refined it a bit, but it's still just one big rambling thing. Anywho, don't own anything and all that jazz.
Twisting twirling ebbing flowing.
It shines, burning and searing, gold blue red silver green twisting twirling ebbing flowing. It's in his thoughts in his dreams in his future. Cold bright burning- searing. Stripping his flesh, lashing his mind, hot searing molten gold consuming his being, entering his soul and locking the former resident out.
Twisting twirling ebbing flowing.
Time.
Time.
Time.
It's in his head- burning, burning! Golden threads link the web hung with silver and orange and blue, dividing the space of the cosmos. Why is it empty? It's not- everything is just so small. Insignificant in the grand searing burning knowing face of Time. His face, its face, no one's face.
Did he have a face? Ears nose eyes hair- no, no hair. Big ears and cold bright deep eyes like ice. No longer like ice, more like fire.
He laughs at the revelation and worlds are created and destroyed and created, disappearing from Time and becoming fixed points all in the same twisting moment. Golden tears stream down his cheeks as he continues to laugh, the colors intersected be silver and blue. It hurts, he's burning, it's euphoric.
With a wave of his hand, the constant ebb and flow halts just long enough for him to think and realize that this is wrong, so wrong and he has to stop this is wrong-
Twisting twirling ebbing flowing.
The vortex rushes though his mind, calming and soothing and searing. He burns gold. He's dying, he's living. He sees everything, knows all that has not been, all that should be, all that will be.
Time.
Something's wrong.
It's hiding from him, them, hiding behind the time-lines of pink and yellow. Gold once blue now burning eyes see it and wonder at the colors. It's growling and snarling and, oh, it's fighting.
Bad.
That's a Bad Wolf.
Oh.
His Rose. His lovely lovely pink and yellow human. Did he forget? No. Yes. He narrows his focus, the gold blue green twisting and shifting away, bringing his mind to the right now. She's there, right there, yellow and pink and so so fantastic. It takes an eternity of an eternity for him to remember that this is wrong and he has to stop or else he will is did burn-
Twisting twirling ebb-
No!
The power of the vortex fades in a shimmering kaleidoscope of thoughts, leaving him so cold and alone. It almost hurts. He can hear his beloved ship on the edge of his mind, comforting him as her heart returns to its casing. He is himself. But not for long. He continues to burn, the absence of the essence of Time destroying his body and mind.
He doesn't care, not really. Just as long as his Rose wakes up first.