Based on "The Girl" by Hellberg
And he knows she is out there, somewhere. Not quite dead, not completely alive. Frozen between one heartbeat and the last. His walking paradox of a saviour.
She haunts his dreams, all the time, every night.
Brown eyes that saw wonders, London. Oh, how they haunt him. He always did love dark eyes that could shine so bright.
Bones that survived everything, that lived from adventure to adventure, fighting against the bad guy to save the small guy… Glasgow.
A wonderful heart that learned to love him and his Scottish brogue, Aberdeen.
He never remembers her when he wakes up. Well, at least not completely.
He knows he travelled with her, Cambridge to Boston, Lima to Tokyo, London to Trenzalore, Blackpool to Arcadia.
He knows she died… sort of. Knows her sacrifice, all of them. Knows she has died for him and many others.
He knows she loved deeply, madly, profoundly, brokenly, completely, loved with everything she was and wasn't.
And he knows she is out there, somewhere. Not quite dead, not completely alive. Frozen between one heartbeat and the last. His walking paradox of a saviour. (Although, who is he to talk?)
She goes on, forgotten. By time, by him, by everyone. Yet somehow, utterly remembered. Like a story you can't remember the ending to or a joke you forgot the punch-line to.
It is a fond reminder, not complete, never complete, but still somehow there.
But in dreams... it is only there, in dreams, that he can remember it all.
Brown eyes shining with mirth and desire. Seeking adrenaline like a junkie.
Bones, brittle yet strong. Enduring all sorts of pain in order to ensure his safety.
Heart, loving, caring, giving. Far too big for someone so small.
Everything, everything except for that smile. That smile he is certain overpowered the Sun and all other stars in its vicinity.
And when he wakes, she remains frozen, somewhere in the back of his mind, hidden away.
A vague memory, a small laugh, a tiny chuckle, a hidden strength, an encompassing sense of joy and sadness, bittersweet.
And when he tries to remember, he forgets more.
It's like she is a paradox, human yet more, alive yet dead, lost yet not. It drives him crazy.
But he likes it. The ache in his hearts as he recalls whatever small tid-bit of this wonderful, impossible girl reminds him he is alive. That someone out there loves him and is taking care of him. That maybe, just maybe, he'll meet her again.
She gives him hope even in death and sorrow and longing and absence. Because she is also alive and joy and fulfilment and ever-present… always his favourite paradox:
Truly the girl that time forgot yet could not do so entirely, no matter how much it tried.