Work Text:
You let out a deep sigh, examining the tiny porcelain hand under your magnifying glass. Not much to salvage here. Unsurprising, considering that you found it holding a burning coal. What the hell was it thinking? Another sigh. Probably the same thing it was thinking when it ate those pills. Seems pretty obvious, in fact. You had hoped those particular proclivities wouldn't have made the jump to the mechanical heart, but… clearly no such luck.
You finish gluing two pieces of palm together and set it aside to dry, looking over at the rest of its inert body. Poor thing. You hadn't been LYING when you told it that it would feel better in time, not exactly… there had certainly been a possibility of that, and you HOPED it would pan out. But at this point, it's time to face facts. You haven't rescued it from its pain, you've trapped it in it. Stuck in a life it doesn't want, in a body it doesn't fit, with no chance of escape. You feel ill. You hope you can make it up to it, someday. In the meantime, you've got your work cut out for you. A tear rolls down your cheek as you return to your repairs.