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He wakes up but it's only from a dream. His mind is still bleary and he snuggles into his pillows, trying to hold onto the images that danced in his mind.
It was pretty, so very pretty. Suns, two suns glowing against an orange sky and such red grass. He wanted to sit in it, to feel it between his fingers and watch as silver leaves fell from the trees. With the reflections of the sky, they looked like dancing balls of firelight, like some little spirits come around to visit him and play.
It was his favorite place to go when he dreamt.
And he tells Koschei about it, mumbles his memories in a tone that clearly says he's half asleep and he doesn't know what he's saying, doesn't realize that it pulls a reaction from the other but he can't help but tell him.
It was just so lovely, he had to share.
He stares at the console for hours. There's something in him that says touch it, that says all he needs to do is start hitting buttons and pulling levers and he would know.
But he doesn't.
His fingers twitch and he tries to remember what Koschei says, all the things he's taught him over and over again but nothing is there. His book is close by, open to a blank page and he's sure there are directions in there but he doesn't want them.
He wants to do this on his own.
Fingers brush against the console and he feels a strange sense of familiarity, like this is what he's supposed to do but his hand jerks away and he stumbles back. He didn't like that feeling, wasn't sure what to do wit it. His fingers still burned and the more he looks at the console, the more everything gets muddled, controls bleed into each other and he stumbles back until he has his back pressed up against the wall and his eyes shut tight.
Later, he writes about it in his book underlining the pat that instructs him to never do that again. It is the eighth time he's done it.
Hugging her tightly, he can't help but smile. She's good at that, making Theta smile. She's his best friend, the person he talks to, the person he sings with.
Koschei is lovely, Koschei is everything but she? She is his very best friend and nothing will change that.
Taking her hand into his, he gives her a light tug, urging her forward. "I want to show you something, something wonderful!"
And when he takes her to the pillow room and shows it off proudly, he can't help but let the look of confusion show when she says she already knew it existed.
Today is the day he's going to do it. Today he's going to make tea and he's going to do it right.
He has everything he needs, the water, the milk, the tea itself, even sugar and he knows this is going to go well. He remembered everything and he knows what he needs to do and he can' keep the smile from his face.
Water set to a boil, tea bag in a mug and milk and a bit of sugar. That's how it goes.
But there's no water in the cup and far too much sugar when he presents it to Koschei with a bright smile because he just knows he's done it right, he's sure of it.
In the kitchen, the TARDIS herself makes sure to turn the stove off.
He doesn't tell Koschei the stories that scare him.
He doesn't tell him about the man in the black suit who tore a hole through the sky. He doesn't tell him about the man who followed the Doctor across the stars, chasing him, destroying worlds and people and everything for him.
He once told him about Martha Jones, about the woman who walked the world and told stories to save the world. He told Koschei about her because when Koschei tells his stories, he remembers Martha (well, sometimes) and he likes that.
Sometimes though, sometimes he slips.
Sometimes he tells him about the soft sound, the dadadadum and the people that suffered. He told them about the showustheblood and how they almost got what they wanted. He tells him about gunshots and ladies in red and the sound the world makes when everything goes backwards.
Then he asks Koschei to tell him a story instead, because his stories are always so much better.
Word Count: 755
Verse: Memento Mori
It was pretty, so very pretty. Suns, two suns glowing against an orange sky and such red grass. He wanted to sit in it, to feel it between his fingers and watch as silver leaves fell from the trees. With the reflections of the sky, they looked like dancing balls of firelight, like some little spirits come around to visit him and play.
It was his favorite place to go when he dreamt.
And he tells Koschei about it, mumbles his memories in a tone that clearly says he's half asleep and he doesn't know what he's saying, doesn't realize that it pulls a reaction from the other but he can't help but tell him.
It was just so lovely, he had to share.
He stares at the console for hours. There's something in him that says touch it, that says all he needs to do is start hitting buttons and pulling levers and he would know.
But he doesn't.
His fingers twitch and he tries to remember what Koschei says, all the things he's taught him over and over again but nothing is there. His book is close by, open to a blank page and he's sure there are directions in there but he doesn't want them.
He wants to do this on his own.
Fingers brush against the console and he feels a strange sense of familiarity, like this is what he's supposed to do but his hand jerks away and he stumbles back. He didn't like that feeling, wasn't sure what to do wit it. His fingers still burned and the more he looks at the console, the more everything gets muddled, controls bleed into each other and he stumbles back until he has his back pressed up against the wall and his eyes shut tight.
Later, he writes about it in his book underlining the pat that instructs him to never do that again. It is the eighth time he's done it.
Hugging her tightly, he can't help but smile. She's good at that, making Theta smile. She's his best friend, the person he talks to, the person he sings with.
Koschei is lovely, Koschei is everything but she? She is his very best friend and nothing will change that.
Taking her hand into his, he gives her a light tug, urging her forward. "I want to show you something, something wonderful!"
And when he takes her to the pillow room and shows it off proudly, he can't help but let the look of confusion show when she says she already knew it existed.
Today is the day he's going to do it. Today he's going to make tea and he's going to do it right.
He has everything he needs, the water, the milk, the tea itself, even sugar and he knows this is going to go well. He remembered everything and he knows what he needs to do and he can' keep the smile from his face.
Water set to a boil, tea bag in a mug and milk and a bit of sugar. That's how it goes.
But there's no water in the cup and far too much sugar when he presents it to Koschei with a bright smile because he just knows he's done it right, he's sure of it.
In the kitchen, the TARDIS herself makes sure to turn the stove off.
He doesn't tell Koschei the stories that scare him.
He doesn't tell him about the man in the black suit who tore a hole through the sky. He doesn't tell him about the man who followed the Doctor across the stars, chasing him, destroying worlds and people and everything for him.
He once told him about Martha Jones, about the woman who walked the world and told stories to save the world. He told Koschei about her because when Koschei tells his stories, he remembers Martha (well, sometimes) and he likes that.
Sometimes though, sometimes he slips.
Sometimes he tells him about the soft sound, the dadadadum and the people that suffered. He told them about the showustheblood and how they almost got what they wanted. He tells him about gunshots and ladies in red and the sound the world makes when everything goes backwards.
Then he asks Koschei to tell him a story instead, because his stories are always so much better.
Word Count: 755
Verse: Memento Mori
