"Thanks for taking care of her," a familiar Northern accent murmured from behind him. Nine walked into the console room after waking up, waiting until he was less disoriented before going to find his self.
He'd been watching Eight over the past couple of weeks, trying to offer what little ghostly comfort he could, but it was clear that hadn't been enough. He could offer real comfort now, though, and he had every intention of doing so.
Eight turned with a startled look, then smiled tentatively and set Scully down with a pat. "Of course," he said, relief clear in his voice. He stood and stepped over to Nine, concerned.
"'Bout as much as I figure you are," Nine chuckled gruffly, before tugging Eight into a tight hug. It'd been two weeks without contact, without touch, without speech...he'd essentially been alone again, and it was his own sort of personal hell. But it was over now, and Eight wasn't the only one who was relieved.
Eight chuckled, returning the hug. Truth be told, he'd spent most of the two weeks alternately worrying about Nine, and trying not to worry -- the TARDIS had never had so many repairs done.
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He'd been watching Eight over the past couple of weeks, trying to offer what little ghostly comfort he could, but it was clear that hadn't been enough. He could offer real comfort now, though, and he had every intention of doing so.
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"Are you all right?"
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"I'm more concerned about you, really."
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