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The Far, Far range was too damn far away, Casey thought. Beatrix had been gone for what seemed like forever, even if it had only been a month or two. She'd arrive, take care of those foreign life forms known as "slimes", and hopefully make a fortune doing it.
Casey wished they could have gone, sometimes. There would have been two of them out there instead of one. Casey was sure that they wouldn't have enjoyed the trip or their new life - they liked being on Earth, around people more than Beatrix did - but they still wished they'd gone. They'd left her once, and they shouldn't have left her again, even if it meant giving up their musical career.
After all, even if they and Beatrix had pretty much been opposites attract, it still didn't mean that they wanted her so far away that they'd never see her again. In some ways, it was like she had died, this going so far away that they would never see her again. Except that they'd be able to exchange messages, be able to talk that way even if it wasn't real time.
They would never see her face, never squeeze her hand, never hug her ever again. Never have a conversation that didn't involve the exchange of voices, of sounds. Casey knew that they would go on, write music, go on with life. But right now it seemed so damn difficult to even think about that.
Maybe some day it would get better. Someday they wouldn't grieve what could have been, if she hadn't gone or they would have gone with her. But it was difficult now, just handling the ache of knowing what never would be and would never happen again, and so for that, Casey couldn't do anything except make music, tour, and maybe even cry.