[charloft] Dreams
He dreams about fire.
He dreams about lots of things, really. He dreams about Daleks, lots of Daleks, he dreams about Rose Tyler and Martha Jones and Donna Noble. He dreams about the TARDIS, not Grace, though she’s in his dreams too. A different TARDIS, a blue box that never changes and he dreams about how his hands move against her console like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
And sometimes he dreams about explosions, about planets burning, about people burning about everything burningburningburning but he’s so cold, shivering under so many blankets that don’t do their job.a
He dreams about rhythms and flying and the way the world feels when it spins backward.
He dreams about saying goodbye.
He dreams about that a lot actually, dreams about goodbyes and gunshots and people dyingdyingdying in his arms and before his eyes and by his hand.
Sometimes he cries when he sees them because he knows what happens. When he dreams like this, he always knows the ending.
He apologizes to Koschei when he has those dreams, he apologizes until his voice is gone which doesn’t take very long but even afterwards, the words are traced against his skin with Theta’s index finger.
He trembles, curling up tighter beneath the blankets and he refuses to close his eyes after a while. When people dream like this, everythings’s supposed to be warped, supposed to be twisted and strange and frightening.
When Theta dreams like this, he remembers and he thinks that might be worse than anything.
Word Coun: 256
Verse: Memento Mori