#tearskept

Like the barrel of a gun, hard unforgiving metal presses against the Master's spine when Bill embraces him. He's grateful that their position hides his grimace in a way his mask can't. It only serves to highlight what this really is; a parody of friendship between two people pretending to be human.

Her mechanical parts are such a small percentage still, and she holds out hope that she'll be saved before it can go any further, but… He knows her fate is set in stone. She knows, too, that her chances are looking more grim with each passing day. Oh, how he gets mind numbingly bored of comforting her.

But, this is better than the alternatives. How long had he spent stranded on this ship alone before the Doctor, and his cyberman-to-be companion, landed? And forming a genuine connection with anyone here is out of the question. No, this is perfect; a semblance of attention, of companionship, without ever having to allow himself to be vulnerable.

It feels like watching other people form friendships on TV; something they have a habit of doing. Really, it's what they've bonded over, watching that stupid slow motion security feed and imagining themselves at the Doctor's side instead of her.

It's pathetic, embarrassing, the way Missy looks at the Doctor, the way he looks back at her. A stark reminder that the only way he'll ever be friends with the Doctor again is if he changes everything about himself, and the even harsher reminder that he'll soon be desperate enough to do so. It makes him nauseous just to think about; much like the scent of human hanging all over him.

“ what're you on about? course i do. we're mates, aren't we? ”   bill’s request for help had been accepted in a heartbeat, without a moment taken to consider otherwise. a second nature decision. and maybe yaz had been waiting for this exact moment for a long time. the moment someone reached out to her because they trusted her, because they liked spending time with her. not because she was already in the process of saving them, like she had done so often with the police or the doctor, or because she was their only option. she was a conscious choice. to bill, she smiled then and said,   “ ‘sides, it’s not like i’ve got anything better to do. ”

        The Doctor can’t help the dopey smile that blossoms across their face when they see her there. Bill Potts. Already in the thick of things. They’re not sure how it’s possible, but they step in closer, perhaps, than they have any right to given their new face. “Hello.”