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Of Spare Parts (and their echoes)
[h]alf
She has nightmares, too- nightmares that 9S might disappear still. She knows it's silly, that the Pods can fix them, but it still haunts her, lying awake in the dead of night.
She turns on her side, lets hair fall into her eyes, her fingers into 9S's open palm. "Thanks."
"For what?" His words are soft, kind, like the Lunar Tear still tucked behind her ear.
Her circuits momentarily jump back to system shock from imagining a life without 9S. She shivers, blinks, smiles.
"For being here, alive."
He starts, slows, smiles. Nods. He understands, and she thanks him for it, too.