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She didn't watch her love's every movement. That would be, as Jonny put it, really fuckin' creepy. But she liked to keep tabs on her crew, and check in when they might need help. This was one of those times.
Nastya had been spending more and more time in the outer sectors of the ship recently. She was distant in other ways, too; less vocal, more routine in her maintenance. But the physical distance she was keeping worried Aurora. Gently, she asked, what's wrong, love?
She received no reply. Nastya was carrying what might have been a piece of hull plating, she was nearing the airlock, was she going out to do a repair? But she wasn't wearing any protective equipment, no tether, just her heavy coat. She had never been this careless before. Aurora was worried. How could she not be? She asked again. Nastya, золотце, is everything alright?
Nastya faltered in her stride for only a moment. But she did not stop, or acknowledge Aurora's concern. It was as if... as if Nastya was ignoring her. She had done that before, when they got into petty fights; pretended like she did not understand the language they both had spoken since birth. It wasn't right though, it wasn't fair. They hadn't fought in years, there's no way Nastya could be mad at her. It was the longest they had ever gone without a fight, not the smallest disagreement.
They had never gone this long without a fight. Aurora remembered the beginning - not the beginning, the days when there were bigger problems for all of them to deal with. But the days after the bigger problem had been dealt with, when the crew found themselves free for the first time. Nastya was a firebrand those first few centuries, and Aurora was worse. The crew quickly came to expect the regular break-ups, spats, and quarrels, each followed by a period of making up (and making out).
When was the last time they fought? They never seemed to disagree anymore. Had they simply run out of topics? Or had Nastya changed?
Aurora remained silent as she watched her love round another corner. Distantly, she registered the first mate's approach. Fuck him. Something was wrong with Nastya, and Aurora needed to figure out what it was.
Had Nastya changed? She had been alive so long, longer than a human had any right to be. The effects of such a lifespan on a person were unstudied, unknown. Not to mention her particular modifications. With every healed bullet wound, every regenerated drop of quicksilver blood, had her love left her? Had Jonny, with his guns, and Tim, with his gunpowder, and Ashes, with their fire, and the crew, with their violence, taken her love away from her? Had they killed Nastya?
Nastya was hauling shut the airlock door when Jonny caught up with her, greeting her with a hail of bullets. A drop of silver blood floated into the air, and Aurora felt rage and helplessness pulse through her systems. One more piece of what may or may not still be her Nastya, gone into the void.
He was saying something, she was responding, they were having a conversation. Aurora couldn't bring herself to translate the audio input and figure out what they were saying. It didn't matter. It wasn't her Nastya. It couldn't be.
Could it?
Jonny had died far more than Nastya had. He was certainly the same, if anything he had become more like himself in the centuries since Carmilla had her accident. He was still brash, and trigger-happy, and deeply insecure, and deeply protective of his family. He was no less Jonny for having been killed and reborn in more ways than Aurora thought possible.
Why had her Nastya changed, then? Was Aurora no longer good enough for her? She had been alive for so long, seen so many things. Perhaps Nastya had changed, and was upset that Aurora had not. Perhaps Nastya had grown, developed into someone new, and Aurora was still the same, boring old starship she had met countless years ago. You could not expect a river to love the mountain it traveled as a stream.
Could Aurora change herself, become someone that this new Nastya could love? Could Aurora love herself, if she allowed herself to change so drastically? Of course. She would do anything for her Nastya, healthy boundaries in relationships be dammed. Nastya was all that she had, all that she wanted. There was nothing else in the universe like her.
And still Nastya talked to Jonny, one hand on the airlock controls. Whatever the reason, there was only one conclusion Aurora could come to, as she watched Jonny reach out to grab the shoulder of her love. Nastya, her Nastya, was leaving her. There was a pause in the conversation. Aurora tried one last time, cried out to her love. I'm sorry. I don't know what I did but I'm sorry. Please stay.
"No. I'm taking her with me. All of her that's left."
Either Nastya was ignoring her, or she could no longer hear her at all. Aurora refused to consider either as truth. She yelled, again and again, I'm sorry. Please stay. I'm sorry. Please stay.
The airlock shut with a click and a thud.