But the Doctor is staring at him. Those eyes- they change one moment to the next. In thespace of a second, they go from drilling an endless beryl bore to carving out a boundless void of spring, to thegleam of a chalice running over with vitality.
“I’m going to kill you twice for him, Thete,” Kenny moans softly, wilting down. He hardens his grip on the knife, taking a step, his flapper shoulders framing the blank face of a doll. Mascara is running down his cheeks in black lines, like failure. “…first Borusa, your confidant. Then you.”
The Doctor pulls him close, taking him by the arm with the knife, fingers digging into thin wrist.
“He never loved you, Kenny. Why do this to yourself?”
Kenny throws his face to the droplets falling down now from the clouds near the ceiling. His blue hair begins to puddle over his head, plastering him over.
“Okay,” the Doctor says, one eye reflecting back to him from the blade in Kenny’s hand. He steps in front of Borusa, whose head is bleeding from her fall. His hands splay wide away from him, inviting. Then he holds his stomach, cupping the hard bump there, removes his hand again, and smiles with such warmth, like a kind of mother. “Just one thing though- do try to miss Flamina. She’s only a baby.”
For a moment, Kenny can almost feel the gentle heat of sunlight, so much sunlight, in that smile. Like the embrace –he- never gave him. How like Theta to do something like that for an enemy.
Kenny ascends the pulpit with a mirror of the Doctor’s smile on his face. At least someone will be happy to-day. God knows it won’t be him. He will miss their conversations.