ii.
perihelion | the point in the orbit of a planet, asteroid, or comet at which it is closest to the sun
hope creeps in
with empty promises
teasing, fleeting
then gone again
hope feels like a distant dream
for younger souls, full of light
you think it'd be kinder to let go—
there's nothing left for you anymore
reunion could not be more sweet
than now, your heart lifted
from seemingly endless depths
maybe today, the universe is kind
she draws you in again
ever familiar and still as beautiful
her lips tender, delicate
the sweetest invitation; this time, you accept
she calls it another way of living—
and you? you've never felt more alive
—
This is it. Really, there's nowhere lower to sink than here, in a war zone, being hunted by an army of Cybermen and knowing their chances of escaping are near zero. Add to that the mess of her having been turned into a Cyberman… things aren't looking up for her. She supposes the one silver lining is that it makes the choice to stay by his side and essentially sacrifice herself easy. And it's nice - that despite how she's literally been turned into a monster, that she'll go out fighting. That she'll die for a purpose, and die with her soul and spirit intact, even if her body has been taken from her.
Don't get her wrong; she's bloody terrified to be facing death, despite it all.
But then somehow it's all over, and she's still standing. It's just her and an unnerving quiet that's fallen, just the sound of rubble crunching under heavy, metallic footsteps, and the soft, hissing crackles of the occasional lingering fire. And then there's him; the last one who could possibly understand, who knows who she is beneath this metal casing, her last scrap of hope that maybe she can still be someone. And he's lying there, so still - she reaches down to touch him and can't help but flinch at how still he is, and she weeps. Weeps for her friend and her loss, emotion choking up in her throat, raw and human and scared. Scared that she's alone like this, stuck in a purgatory between human and monster, alive and robotic; because of course she'd draw the short straw, they didn't even bloody manage to properly turn her into a robot… after it all, her tears are still there. Still real.
It's not until she notices the puddle forming in front of her, too quickly to be from the rain that she's been too numb to even notice, that she realises those tears never were her own.
—
There's a soft, metallic thud as her body - or her metal shell, rather - falls away from her, and suddenly the world shifts, and it's as if she's in some sort of dream. The world around her doesn't feel the same anymore, as if she's looking at it through an outsider's eyes.
"Am I dead?" Bill asks, eyes drifting back to meet her gaze; in all of this, Heather seems like the only solid, real thing, there's a certain sharpness and clarity to her that everything else lacks, and oh— an unexpected warmth when Heather's lips press to hers. She melts into her, relishes in the way that her heart flutters, and the way that time stops for them again… if this is what death is like, she'll take it any day.
"Does that feel dead to you? You're like me now. It's just a different kind of living."
There's water streaming from her hands but it doesn't alarm her. No, there's something calm about it, like this is how things are meant to be. "How did you find me?" Out here, in this wasteland, at the end of all hope.
"I left you my tears, remember?"
