Next chapter on the 12th of July.
The Mistress spends a lot of time thinking about the words he'd said. They were few but they play again and again, her mind focussing on struggle in them.
Sorry.
He had said, fighting for awareness.
I'm trying.
And as much as it makes her feel like laughing to know that he's still there, her Doctor, it makes her want to cry too.
She wants to slip up again, give him a reason to come to the surface, to fight for her.
She knows it would be dangerous if she did but she.
Misses him.
She misses the real him more than she had known that she could.
It had seemed incomprehensible once- a universe without the Doctor.
It feels like that's where she is living now. She'd gotten used to it, to that idea that he was gone and she had lost her only friend but knowing now that he was there still, just trapped away from her, somehow didn't make it any easier at all.
The doors open and Bill comes in and the Mistress smiles, genuine.
"Sorry I'm late- tried my hand at baking. Seemed like something to do in the middle of everything- hope they're alright." The human is already talking at a mile a minute and the Time Lady feels warm as she waits for her to come and open the door to her cage again, holds it and extends an arm for her to take.
She doesn't need to but like always she lets the human take some of her weight, feels her solidity under her fingers.
The smell of coffee from the styrofoam cups is strong as she lets herself be led to a table, two chairs on one side.
The Mistress feels that perhaps it's easy to forgive herself for the warmth in her words as she tells Bill that she's sure they'll be fine and thinks about things that the human deserves to be told.
When the Doctor next visits she watches his face for small movements, tracking the way his eyes go over the room as she stands, hands clasped loosely in front of her, in her glass cell.
The bag in his hand is plastic, stretched around the handles.
He types in the code and enters, placing the bag on the table.
"I've got something to get to. Will you be alright in here?" He asks, hand already around the glass door as he waits a moment.
It's not really a question and she knows that really. Still. She can't help but lean forwards ever so slightly, lips parting as she stares at him for a moment, hand going to take his arm without her consent.
"Yes." She says, quickly enough that he probably didn't catch her slip.
"Good." He replies, closing her door properly.
Then his back is to her and his hands are in his pockets and he's gone.
The Mistress watches him go, trying not to hope and trying not to cry.
She remembers when he'd stopped excusing himself from her to work.
She remembers when he'd spent time marking homework while she read.
She remembers when it had been comfortable to feel his touch, gentle, on whatever part of her was closest before he left.
That small physical goodbye had meant the world to her, knowing how uncomfortable he was with contact.
She misses it.
The Mistress watches shadows sprawl across the ceiling, cast by the impression of night in the false windows.
Her arm stretches up to meet them and she thinks of millions of other nights, other ceilings and walls and countless stretches of stars and colours and lights.
Her breaths seem to hang in the air, a physical thing, as she thinks about what will wait for her outside this room.
She remembers, lowering her hand to her chest, that the sky here is blue in the day and darker at night. Depending on the year the stars are more or less visible. She preferred some of the earliest ones, far more incredible than the ones later in the human timeline where the stars were blocked out by light coming from the constant thrum of the human lifestyle.
She can't place the year though.
She doesn't know if the stars will be good.
Regardless, the Time Lady looks forward to the feeling of wind on her skin again, of something alive and not just the inert materials of this room, of noises which don't suffocate and aren't as complete as the silence which surrounds her now.
The Mistress walks without Bill now, pacing in front of those doors as she thinks about the millions of things that could go wrong.
"Has there been anything from SIT?" She asks, turning to face Bill directly who is just watching her, smiling. Her face drops into seriousness at the question.
"Ah- no. Not yet." She says, "They might just be busy trying to stay hidden- it's difficult out there."
"Well I don't have a choice in that yet, do I?" The Mistress snaps, scowling as she fixes the human with a glare.
It softens almost instantly as she sighs, dropping dramatically into an armchair. The Time Lady holds her hand to her forehead.
"I'm sorry. It's just. There are so many things that I don't have control of. There are so many things that could go wrong." She says, "And at the same time it all feels like it's moving so slowly." Missy says.
"And I know that's how revolutions work- I've orchestrated so many. Usually I just skip around in time so I can see the results immediately. No waiting." She gestures with her hands erratically, sliding down the back of the chair.
Bill walks over, face patient. She puts a hand on the Mistress' knee. It's warm.
"Do you want to talk about it?" The human asks.
The Time Lady parts her lips but has no words for a moment.
"I-"
"You don't have to-" Bill rushes to assure her, "But if you're worried I'm here to listen. I'm not just doing it to save the world you're." The human's mouth goes dry as her eyes remain on the Mistress'.
She looks away.
"You're my friend. I care about you." It sounds lame to her ears but she's said it now so that's that.
The Time Lady feels something twist within her.
They're both quiet, eyes averted from the other. Bill squeezes her knee and then removes her hand.
Missy takes in a breath and sighs it out, looking at her lap, her hands twisting in it.
"It's just. I'm so worried about things I don't have any control of. I'm used to being in control and being at a distance from things. I don't like…" She breaks off, feeling her voice catch and hating it. She grits her teeth instead.
Bill surges forwards, hand on her knee again and another on her arm.
"Hey, it's okay if you need to cry! God knows I've been crying about it all the time." Bill reassures her. The human snorts as if it's nothing, to feel so strongly.
"It's just-" The Mistress is cut off again by the weakness in her own voice, angered by it.
"I hate it. I hate not being able to control even my voice or when I do things. I hate not knowing what's going to happen next. I hate not having the Doctor. I hate being in here. I hate that I'm so." She forces the words out bitterly and they just keep pouring out of her mouth as if pulled by some strange force. They break and shatter on the ground and her voice catches one final time, word sharp in her throat like an unchewed crisp.
"Weak." Her hearts hurt and her lungs feel like they're seething in her chest. The Mistress clenches her fists in her lap.
There's a pause and then Bill is holding her close, one arm wrapped around her head and another around her shoulders as the Time Lady crumbles in on herself.
"Oh- you're not weak- not at all!" She consoles as the Mistress says, "I'm so scared and I hate it, Bill."
There's another pause as Bill just holds her closer and Missy can hear her heart in her ear, rhythmic, slow compared to her two.
"I'm so scared, Bill." She whispers, letting one hand move to hold the human's arm and squeeze it.
"I know," Bill murmurs, running her palm up and down the Time Lady's back, "But it will be okay." She says.
"Somehow."
"And then-" The Mistress takes a shuddering breath, swallowing again, "There's finding the memories too-"
"Now shush." Bill says softly, rocking her slightly, "We can worry about that later. Now is for feeling things, yeah?"
There is an insistence in the human's voice which she can't ignore.
Eventually she replies.
"Okay." The Mistress agrees, holding on to Bill just a little bit more tightly.