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Everyone on The Aurora had bad days, of course they did. Having an already faulty part of you replaced with more-than-questionably functional machinery tended to exacerbate more issues than they helped. And immortality meant you got old, in many ways even if not physically. So yes, everyone had bad days. And everyone handled those bad days differently.
Most times, Natsya tended to whine and complain on bad days. Mostly about being cold and achy, but also about Aurora not letting her actually do anything. She never made much effort to get up, too tired and too sore, and on occasion too dizzy, but she was certainly loud about it.
Luckily for her, though, she had two wonderful girlfriends always willing to play nurse and take care of her on bad days.
Such as that particular day.
“I had Ivy help me with this soup,” Brian said, handing her the bowl full of a steaming liquid, “it’s just a basic chicken broth, my dear.”
“Thank you, Drumbot,” Nastya nodded, absorbing the warmth in the bowl as if it was her life force and not the mercury running through her body.
She’d woken up cold that morning, and that was almost always a sign of an incoming bad day.
When she tried to stand up, she almost immediately fell back down, the world spinning and spots dancing in her vision. She groaned, loudly, and Aurora noticed her conundrum. The starship had asked what was wrong, and when Nastya said she felt bad, she immediately asked Brian to help the engineer in ways she couldn’t. Brian had arrived, an hour or so later, with soup and tea in hand.
She’d arrived using the cane she had given him, walking slowly, and precariously balancing a small platter in one hand with the warm drink and meal.
He had sat on her bed, and helped prop her up so she could properly drink the broth and tea, and asked if she needed anything else. The simple act, as small as it seemed to be, made Nastya’s heart squeeze with appreciation and adoration for the pilot.
Nastya blew on the soup, cooling it off so it wouldn’t burn her tongue. “I’d like my heating pad, if you’re able… My legs are stiff. Everything is, as this shambling corpse of mine really doesn’t like to work and I’m sick of it.”
“Shambling corpse, that’s a new one,” Brian muttered jokingly. His eyes seemed a bit unfocused as Nastya took a sip of soup, relishing in the warmth it provided as she did so. Brian eventually stood up, after seeming to deliberate for a moment. “Is it still somewhere in your closet? Or did you move it again?”
Nastya thought for another moment, before shrugging.
Brian sighed, a small smile on his face. He placed a kiss on her forehead, and Nastya smiled a little bit, and the drumbot moved slowly, hobbling over to her closet while leaning heavily on his cane.
Nastya raised an eyebrow, even as he blurred (her glasses remained untouched on her nightstand, she hadn’t put them on yet today and didn’t really plan to even though she could barely see) as he searched through her messy closet.
“Are you alright, Drumbot?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” the brass man said, pushing something in her closet to the side. “Why do you ask?”
“You appear to be limping more than usual, today.”
“I’m fine, Nastya,” Brian insisted, standing up. He had a dark red… shape in his arms. “And I’ve found your heating pad.”
“Thank you, dear.” Nastya took another sip of her soup.
Brian limped back over to the bed, sitting down with a soft sigh of relief.
“Do you need your chair or something?”
Brian waved her off. “No, really, I’m fine, love.”
“Brian, I am cold and stiff and aching and yet I’m still being condemned to bed. If you are hurting as well, no one will say anything if you need a day…” Nastya said slowly.
Brian smiled warmly. “I appreciate your worry, Nas, but really, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about me, alright love? You’re the one who’s sick.”
Nastya shook her head. “Nope, can’t do. Space Christ knows you don’t worry for yourself enough.”
Aurora creaked in agreement, chuckling softly with warm air blowing into the room through the vents.
“See? Aurora agrees, you need to relax more.”
“And you,” Brian pointed at Nastya, “are a hypocrite. You push off rest just as frequently.”
“So you admit to it,” Nastya raised a smug eyebrow, smirking.
“I admit to nothing,” Brian said, a joking air to his voice, “this isn’t a court of law. Nothing I say is being recorded or can be used against me.”
Aurora blew air at Brian and creaked again. “Exactly,” Nastya said, “you are being recorded.”
“Oh no, how dastardly,” Brian commented dryly, jokingly. “You have blackmail on me. How immoral. Whatever shall I do.”
Aurora creaked around them. “She says, ‘suffer’.”
Brian rolled his eyes. He turned to Nastya, looking at her for a few moments. The brass pilot’s eyes seemed distant, almost, like she wasn’t really focused on anything. The look cleared after a brief moment and she smiled softly at the engineer. “Do you need anything else, love?”
“No,” Nastya said. “No I don’t believe so. But thank you.”
“Of course. If you need anything else, just ask Aurora to get me, but I did tell Tim and Jonny I’d hang out with them today, so…”
“Of course, go on. Do make sure they don’t completely wreck Aurora while I am bed bound and unable to do any repairs. Tell them I’ll do something a thousand times worse if they do.”
Brian nodded. He leaned over and kissed her forehead once again, before standing up and slowly leaving Nastya’s room.
—---
When Brian woke up, he knew it was going to be a bad day. Moving sounded like an awful idea, with every twitch sending white-hot pain piercing through his artificial nerves, and every attempt at moving seemed to make the pain worse. A small part of him hoped he would be able to remain in bed, hoped he wouldn’t have to move and deal with the horrible aching pain echoing throughout his body–but he knew that he’d have to get up. At some point, at least, he would have to move. He had many things to do, after all–she needed to attend to her pilot duties, she had promised Jonny and Tim to hang out with them in the armory, and he and The Toy Soldier were going to have a tea party–he had several things he needed to do that required, well– moving.
Aurora creaked loudly, and pulled a screen up next to her bed. Brian turned her head to look at the ship, trying not to flinch at the pain crawling up his neck, and read what she typed out. ‘Brian, my dearest pilot, would you be available to come assist Nastya? She is having a rough time today.’
Brian smiled softly to her. “Sure, love, does she need anything in particular?”
‘Something warm, ideally. She is cold :[’
“Alright,” Brian nodded. “I’ll get her something.”
Brian didn’t want to move, but Nastya needed her. She had things to do. So biting back a whine, he pushed himself up and moved to get out of bed. He grasped at one of his canes–one that Nastya had made her, she thought distantly, a sturdy thing made of scrap metal and wires that looked more like a piece of scrap piping she pulled directly out of a scrap yard then a cane–and used it as support to stand up. Despite its appearance, it was one of the sturdiest canes in his collection, and had yet to experience any similar wear and tear her wooden canes had. Nastya’s work was always sturdy, strong and often times a bit hefty–Brian found most things the engineer made worked as wonderful weapons in a pinch.
Even though her body ached as she stood, and he felt unsteady on his feet, he had things to do, and his girlfriend needed him. He needed to help her however he could.
He hobbled out of his room, and made his way to one of the kitchens. Luckily Ivy was there, and was willing to help him make something simple for Nastya (she’d said something about enjoying playing taste-tester, after a few grumbles about him interrupting her book), and he brewed some tea (just English Breakfast, as Toy had hidden the rest of the tea stash again), and made his way slowly to the engineer’s room.
It was truly quite rare to find her there, Nastya spent more time sleeping in the Engine Room next to Aurora’s heart, but Aurora had told him that that’s where she’d find Nastya, and so that was where he went. He didn’t stay long, just long enough to help her get comfortable. He almost wanted to stay, to lay down beside her and cuddle up close to her. To not do anything but laze about all day and rest. But he’d promised The Toy Soldier and Gunpowder and Jonny… He had obligations he needed to attend to.
So despite his aching body protesting, and fatigue weighing at her soul, despite the desire to rest plaguing him, she stood, and left Nastya to rest alone.
Hopefully he’d start feeling better soon.
—---
“Aurora,” Nastya asked, running her finger along the rim of her mug of tea. It wasn’t doing much for her cold, stiff hands, or the aches and chills her body was wracked with, but it was a comfort nonetheless. “Is everything alright with Brian? She seemed… Tired. Achey. More so than usual.”
“As far as I am aware,” Aurora creaked. “He said nothing this morning… he would’ve mentioned if he too was having a flare up, would she not?” Aurora’s creaks and groans and grinding gears echoed with concern.
Nastya hummed. “I would hope so.”
“I will keep an eye out, nonetheless,” Aurora said.
“Thank you, love. If you need me, just say something. I can’t promise I’ll be much assistance though. With this ridiculous form of mine condemned to suffering and the cold.”
Aurora blew a huff of air, chuckling slightly. “I will remember that,” the starship creaked.
“Good. I’m going to sleep for a while, then,” Nastya said, setting her soup to the side. “Less time I’ll have to acknowledge the existence of pain.”
Aurora laughed again, and curled a wire around Nastya’s wrist. “Sleep well, love.”
—---
Brian… doesn’t remember how he got to the armory. One second he was headed to his room to get his chair, walking proving too tiresome and joints protesting loudly their intent to give out on him growing ever louder, then everything felt wrong and bad and worse somehow, and she heard something but couldn’t tell what, and then he was in the armory.
He wasn’t sure how she got to the armory, but Jonny and Tim were laughing, so she couldn’t leave. She was sitting on a bench, hips having protested standing so long and walking so much, and her pistol was in her hand. There were targets on the other side of the room, riddled with new and smoking bullet holes.
She felt… bad… Yes, bad was a good way to put it. And it was a never ending cycle, she felt bad and then he felt bad about it because he was having fun with people he cared about and enjoyed being around. And he felt bad. But she couldn’t push the feelings away, the cost of the energy to do that was much too high and he was already sitting at a deficit.
But he felt. Bad.
His head was… Fuzzy, even as Gunpowder laughed loudly at whatever it was Jonny said. His head hurt, and it only made the fog he was swimming (it felt more like sinking) through worse.
She was trying to pay attention to something else, anything else–the weight of the pistol in her hand, the sound of gunshots as Jonny and Tim one-upped each other with trick shots, the sound of bullets slamming into the targets, the cool air blowing out of the vents in bursts of laughter from Aurora, his hat sitting on his head–but no matter what his attention was always brought back to the pain pulsing through his limbs and his head. It was deeply unpleasant, to put it simply, for words more complex seemed surprisingly out of reach.
She just wanted to go back to his room and lay down, but he’d promised. He’d told Jonny and Gunpowder he’d hang out with them, and she couldn’t just abandon their plans. He’d promised and he couldn’t break that promise, it’d be rude and they hadn’t had much time to hang out recently. Even as her knees and his hips ached from standing–from merely existing it seemed like, as she’d been sitting for a good fifteen minutes at least–and she felt like he was on fire despite only sitting off to the side. It was awful.
“Oi, Drumbot,” a voice called through the mud of his mind. She thought that it would’ve snapped her back, but it was still like wading through a dense marsh. Jonny came into focus, and he could just barely make sense of his expression–he looked pinched, concerned. Brian didn’t respond, just stared at him. Talking seemed like such an unnecessary use of energy. Jonny glanced at Tim, who was also looking at her. Also looking concerned, Tim’s arms were crossed and they were frowning. “…You good, Brian?” Jonny asked. He went to say something else, but then stopped, and continued staring with that badly veiled concern in his eyes.
Brian tried to smile reassuringly, but it was hard and he was just so tired. “I’m fine, Jonny,” she said. “Just tired.”
Gunpowder and Jonny shared a look again. She felt far away and distant.
“Are you sure?”
She was so tired. And everything hurt. And she was so tired of being tired.
“Actually,” she said slowly, “I think I’m going to go sit down in the Bridge for a while… If you don’t mind…”
“Course not!” Gunpowder looked almost offended, briefly, that she’d even suggest it. The gunner glanced at Jonny and rolled their shoulders. “…Feeling a bit tired myself, too. Might go lay down if you wanted…?”
“No, no I’m okay, but thank you, Tim.” Brian put his pistol back into the pocket he kept it in inside his coat, and smiled. “I’m sorry…”
“Really, don’t worry about it, Brian. You seem like you need it.”
Brian nodded, trying not to seem upset or disappointed (for what he didn’t even know at this point, he was just so fucking tired that even thinking seemed to hurt) and slowly made his way out of the armory. He felt bad, he felt awful for abandoning their plans, but everything hurt and everything felt distant and blurry. He was in no state to enjoy a bit of chaos or friendly competition with his Crewmates. He needed to sit down and do nothing strenuous for a while–piloting would surely be a nice break.
Leaning on Aurora’s wall to support herself, his shoulders aching too much to support himself with her cane, he slowly made his way to the bridge as Aurora creaked around him. She sounded worried, but she was much too tired to try to dissect what the starship meant.
—---
There were few that Aurora cared for more than her Mechanisms. And in her heart, she held a special soft spot for Nastya and Brian. Her engineer and pilot were perhaps the people most dear to her of all–and she made no attempt to hide her favoritism. She loved them dearly in her own way–however, she would be the first to admit that they were more often than not stubborn about the simplest of things.
Nastya, all things considered, was the easiest of the two to convince to relax or take a break. As much as she’d push herself to work even when she was tired and achy, mercury blood leaving her fatigued and hands shaky, she could be swayed to rest with simply the promise of a warm drink and some time cuddling, caught up in Aurora’s wires. She’d wine and grumble about it, but she would indeed take a break.
Her precious drumbot, on the other hand… he was well and truly stubborn . He was much too stubborn for his own good. And clearly, if no one else was able to do anything–or at least get him to listen to them–she had to do something about it herself.
Brian huffed, crossing his arms. “Aurora, love, c’mon…”
Aurora creaked around her, and typed out on the control screen in front of Brian: ‘Dearest Pilot, you seem to need to get some more rest. Please do so post-haste <3’
Brian rolled his eyes. “Someone needs to be here to help you with navigation and piloting, ‘Rora…” The metal man mumbled, almost as if to himself.
‘I am quite capable of piloting myself.’
“Yes, but you can get incredibly off course without intervention, which is fine but we do have a planned destination…” There was a planet they visited sometimes, which was mostly junkyards and warehouses. They needed to stop there for scraps to reignite their reservoirs for whenever he or Aurora got damaged and Brian’s mechanism couldn’t fix the damage. Iron as well, for something Tim was working on. The gunner could be very particular about the spare parts they used, and got picky if the iron or steel or whatever metal was their latest fascination they were looking for wasn’t exactly what they wanted.
‘One day is not enough time for something catastrophic to happen. You can take a break. You will take a break, Brian.’
Brian tapped his fingers on his arm. “Aurora, you aren’t going to change my mind. It’s not like piloting is really strenuous–I’m fine…”
‘Brian. You need to relax and take a break. I will not let you push yourself to a breaking point.’
“Well, I’m not there yet,” Brian insisted, “I just needed to sit down for a while. So there–no reason to prevent me from helping you.”
Aurora blew a huff of warm air at Brian, creaking around her. She argued with the drumbot for a while more, but he was uncompromising in his position, so Aurora retreated.
If she couldn’t get him to rest, then she would get someone who could help her force her beloved pilot to take a break.
Naturally, her first go-to was Nastya. The engineer was laying in her bed still, eyes closed, and curled up under several blankets.
“Nastya,” Aurora whispered to the engineer, in creaks and groans and the whirring of gears. “Are you awake my love?”
Nastya rolled over in her bed and petted the wall lightly. “Yes, my dearest. What do you need? Did Jonny shoot something vital again? Do you want me to string him up?”
“Nothing of the sort, Nastya. However Brian appears to be having a bad pain flare up–he is ignoring my attempts at coercing him to come to bed.”
“Do you want me to try, then, love?”
“If you are feeling up to it.”
“If you could help me there… Give me a moment and I’ll be there.”
“Thank you, my love.”
—---
“Aurora told on you,” Nastya said, leaning against the pilot's chair. The drumbot rolled his eyes.
“Figured she would.”
“Said something about not listening to her,” the engineer continued nonchalantly, “and insisting you don’t need a break.”
Brian turned to Nastya. “And you’re here to be a hypocrite? Or for something else?” Nastya stuck her tongue out at Brian. “You’re supposed to be resting, too. I’m amazed Aurora even let you out of bed.”
“Hush, you.” Nastya ran her hand through the copper wires that made up Brian’s hair. The metal man leaned into the touch, tension in his shoulders dropping. “I was going to ask if you wanted to take a nap with me and ‘Rora, but I guess I’ll just leave you alone.” Nastya sighed, almost dramatically, “I was really hoping to have a personal hot compress. So my body is less achy. Guess I’ll just have to sleep with ‘Rora. Cold. With only her wires to hold me.” Nastya sighed again, even more dramatically.
Brian rolled his eyes. “You have a heating pad.”
“It’s not the same… but I understand… Sigh…”
Brian sighed through his nose, before eventually saying, “Alright, fine. I’ll come sing you to sleep, just give me a second.”
Aurora, at that moment, decided to shut off his consul.
“Oh fuck you too,” Brian grumbled. A smug smiley face appeared on the console before it shut off once more.
“Coming, then?” Nastya grinned, slightly, and Brian rolled his eyes.
“I suppose since you both are forcing me…”
With a groan and a barely suppressed wince, Brian stood, leaning heavily on his cane despite the strain it put on his shoulders. Nastya watched him carefully, an expression Brian didn’t have the energy to read on her face.
“Shall we, then?” The Drumbot asked.
Nastya nodded and walked closer, wrapping an arm around Brian and helping him stay steady. “This okay?”
“This is unnecessary…” The metal pilot replied. “I can walk to your room…”
“It will be easier with help.”
Brian wanted to argue more, but he wanted to lay down somewhere more, so he didn’t put up any more fuss. He felt utterly exhausted. He let Nastya lead him away, the engineer holding most of his weight that her cane couldn’t take. And away to the engineer’s room they went, Aurora creaking quietly around them while she and Nastya made idle conversation that Brian didn’t have the energy to keep up with. The sounds of their voices were soothing enough as it was.
—---
Arriving once again in Nastya’s room, Brian sat down heavily on the engineer's bed. He felt so tired…
Nastya sat down next to him, leaning into her side. “Ready to get some rest now, Brian?”
“I had things I was going to do today…” the drumbot muttered, finally letting the disappointment and exhaustion seep into his metal bones. “I had promised…”
“Promises get broken sometimes. It can’t be helped.”
Brian leaned his head on top of Nastya’s, sighing. “I’m tired.”
“That’s alright. I am too. So let us take some time to ourselves.”
Brian just hummed in response, eyes slipping closed. Nastya muttered something to Aurora, and the starship creaked in kind, before gently scooping the two up with some wires, forming a hammock of sorts. Brian jumped at the sudden movement, opening his eyes, before relaxing seeing it was just Aurora. Nastya pushed her to lay down, and laid down beside her.
“I just wanted to be there to help you,” Brian mumbled, so quiet Nastya almost missed it.
Silence stretched on for a few moments, as Nastya carefully chose her words.
“You can’t help, you know,” Nastya said, quiet as she was able, “if you’re running yourself ragged.”
“I know,” Brian mumbled, brushing some of Nastya’s hair behind her ear gently. The movement made his aching shoulders creak slightly, but he kept from flinching at the sudden spike of pain. “I would just rather be useful than stuck in bed. I’d never do anything if I laid down every time I hurt.”
“But when it gets bad, is that not enough reason for you to stop and rest?” Nastya insisted.
“I’m usually needed elsewhere,” Brian sighed. “You’re not the only one this Crew keeps busy with their… Shenanigans.”
“You’re being too kind to them–they’re dumbasses whose idea of fun is coming up with creative murder attempts. If those are ‘shenanigans’ I’d hate to see what they deem proper ‘pandemonium’ to be.”
That at least got a small chuckle from the Drumbot.
“I think ‘pandemonium’ is that last planet they ravaged–left it burned to a husk and the earth terribly salted, I believe.”
“Hm. Sounds in line.”
Aurora’s wires wrapped around Brian’s wrist and gently lowered her arm from where it was caressing Nastya’s face, moving it to rest on the bed. She hummed in thanks to the starship, and Aurora creaked a ‘your welcome’ in turn. The starship purred around them, gently wrapping the two in wires in what could be approximated as a hug.
“She thinks the others would understand if you need to rest more. So you’re not in pain so frequently.”
Brian just hummed noncommittally. Nastya sighed.
“I’d like to help you more, too,” Nastya said. “But I can’t if you don’t let me in.”
Aurora whirred and creaked around them.
“Aurora says you need to talk to her more, too. She says she wouldn’t have been mad if you said you wanted to stay in bed this morning.” Aurora creaked again, wrapping wires around Brian’s hand and squeezing gently. Brian returned the gesture.
“I didn’t want to leave you hanging,” Brian muttered.
“Aurora could’ve gotten someone else. You don’t need to take on every burden, you know.”
“You’re no burden, Nastya.”
“You know what I mean.”
Silence lapsed, and Brian just watched Nastya for a few moments, taking in the way her brown and blue hair framed her face, the way her grey-toned skin made her eyes stand out, the rise and fall of her chest. He just laid by her side and watched her for a moment.
“I was supposed to have tea with The Toy Soldier today,” he said eventually. “I don’t want to bail on it.”
“It’ll understand. You can always reschedule.”
“I guess… I just…”
Aurora blew cold air on both of them, groaning loudly. Nastya chuckled.
“She’s insisting we get some rest,” Nastya translated.
Brian huffed a sigh. “Won’t even let me complain about missing my tea party. She’s so demanding.”
“Someone has to push you into bed when you’re hurting,” Nastya said. She curled her hand in Brians’ and sighed. “But I do want some more sleep. I’m tired, and I know you are too.”
Brian chuckled. “Alright. Sleep well, Nastya.” Aurora creaked quietly, blowing a warmer puff of air at the engineer.
Nastya closed her eyes and began trying to fall asleep. Aurora curled her wires slightly tighter around the two of them.
“…Thank you, Aurora,” the pilot muttered, before closing her eyes.
The starship blew warm air at her and creaked quietly.
She’d do anything for her loves.