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I Don't Want To Be Alone

Summary:

Jonny d'Ville doesn't like talking about his feelings. Luckily, the other Mechanisms are good at poking and prodding in just the right places until he gets fed up and tells them what's wrong. Or, they're okay at it. And extremely good at annoying him. It probably balances out.
But you can't spend centuries together in space without figuring out how to talk to each other.

Or, Jonny tries to repress his emotions. The other Mechs don't let him.

(discontinued but the first chapter read like a one shot anyways so its fine)

Notes:

Social Distancing has sucked all my thoughts out my head and replaced them with Mechanisms.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Jonny D’Ville doesn’t have emotions. At least, that’s what he’d loudly proclaimed the last time Nastya had asked him if he was feeling alright. He’d shot her right after, when her only response had been a raised eyebrow and silence. Jonny D’Ville doesn’t have emotions, and if he did, they would be the cool kind of emotions like rage, or psychotic glee. Certainly not lame ones like sadness or guilt or fear.

And Jonny D’Ville certainly doesn’t have nightmares. No way in hell. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why he’s wandering the halls of the Aurora while everyone else is asleep. A reasonable explanation that doesn’t involve him suddenly jolting upright in bed, breathing erratic, visions of needles and blood and hands, digging through his open chest-

Nothing like that.

So he wanders, a shaking hand trailing along the walls as he meanders his way through the ship. And he doesn’t think about nightmares, because why would he? Jonny D’Ville doesn’t have nightmares, after all. Why would he waste his time thinking about them?

To have nightmares, you have to have emotions, so Jonny can’t have nightmares. You have to be afraid. Fear makes you vulnerable. Jonny is anything but vulnerable. He is a hard shell, protecting nothing but spikes and rocks and other suitably hard things. His heart is made of cold metal, and that doesn’t leave any room for squishy emotions like fear. He curls his hands into fists.

He’s not shaking like a leaf, in fact, he’s not shaking at all. Screwing his eyes shut and digging a hand into his hair, he slumps against the wall. Nothing even happened, so nothing’s wrong. He isn’t afraid. He isn’t scared. There’s nothing to be scared of! So he doesn’t want to cry. He doesn’t want to go find one of the others who's less likely to kill him for waking them up, and cling to them until he feels a little better. To press his face into someone’s shoulder, to fall asleep feeling safe.

He’s perfectly safe. There’s no reason to feel otherwise.

Jonny D’Ville lets himself fall down, to pull his knees up to his chest. He twists his hands in his hair, trying to focus on the sharp pricks of pain in his scalp. His gun lies abandoned back in his room, and he distantly registers a half formed wish that he’d brought it with him. But now he just tugs and pulls at his hair, and he doesn’t think about nightmares. He curls into himself tighter and he doesn’t think about being afraid, so terribly afraid. Because if he doesn’t think about it, it will go away. That has to be how it works.

“Jonny?”

He opens his eyes, and yes, there’s Nastya, standing above him and looking concerned. He feels like he should be doing something about this situation, like killing Nastya. But he doesn’t have his gun, and suddenly he feels as though just standing up would take entirely too much energy. So he lets his hands fall away from his head and looks up at her.

“Nastya. You’re up late.” She nods and gently maneuvers herself into a sitting position across from him.

“So are you.”

“Oh, you know. Wanted to take in the glorious sights of the spaceship Aurora without you fuckwads there to block all the scenery.” Nastya simply sighs.

“Jonny, are you alright? I am… worried about you. So is Aurora.” Jonny scoffs.

“I’m fine. The great Jonny D’Ville doesn’t have emotions.”

Nastya nods. “Of course. Now, could the great Jonny D’Ville tell me why he was curled up in an empty hallway at three am, given that he doesn’t have emotions and everything is fine?”

“It’s not three am. Space doesn’t have time.”

“You’re deflecting, Jonny.”

“Am not.”

“Alright then.” She stands abruptly, dusting off her skirt as she does. “Have fun being fine, Jonny. I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait!” Jonny jumps up, grabbing her wrist as she turns to leave. “I- can you stay? Just for a little while. I don’t- I don’t want to be alone.”

Nastya’s face softens, and she nods. She takes his hand and guides them both back down to the floor. “Of course, Jonny.”

They sit there, and when Jonny carefully creeps closer, presses their shoulders together, Nastya doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t shove him away, either, so he leans his head against her shoulder.

“You know,” she says, voice gentle as she begins to comb through his hair with her fingers. “It’s okay if you need help. We all do, sometimes. Even if you’re the first mate.”

“Captain.” He can feel more than hear her laughter, rumbling deep in her chest.

“First mate. But still, you know that I’m here, right? I’ll always be here for you.” Jonny frowns.

“I don’t need help. I don’t have emotions. I don’t have nightmares. I don’t- I’m not scared!” He pushes himself away from Nastya, scrambling to his feet. She gets up after him, trying to grab his hand again, but he ducks out of the way.

“Jonny-”

“No! I’m not scared, because there’s nothing to be scared of! It would be silly to be scared of something that’s not even there, right?”

“Jonny, it’s-”

“I’m- There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m perfectly safe. So I don’t need your help, because there’s nothing wrong.”

“Jonny!” She’s shouting now, and Jonny spares a second to hope that no one is woken up by all the noise they’re making. And then Nastya is hugging him, and he practically melts into her. “It’s okay. I get nightmares too.”

“But-” Now it’s Nastya’s turn to cut him off, and she squeezes him tighter.

“No. It’s okay. It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared, too. We can be here for each other, yeah? We’ll be scared together.”

“There’s still nothing to be scared of.” He mutters, voice muffled where his face has been pressed against her shoulder. “It’s stupid.”

She chuckles. “Yeah. A little. But it’s okay.”

Eventually, they sit back down. The metal hallway is cold and hard, but neither of them mind. Nastya tells Jonny about the Aurora, about how Ashes set an octokitten on fire yesterday and how Tim cried. She talks about anything and everything, and when Jonny falls asleep she doesn’t let go of his hand.

She’ll be here for him, and he’ll be here for her. That’s how it had always worked, and how it always would. Nastya tucks a lock of hair behind Jonny’s ear, whispers a goodnight to the Aurora, and lets herself drift off to sleep.

Notes:

I love Nastya so much, okay? I just love her. She and Jonny have a sibling dynamic and you can fight me on this.
So, yeah, I hope y'all liked this! Hopefully, there's gonna be one chapter for each of the other mechs. Ashes is up next!
If you wanna scream about the mechs with me, you can talk to me on Tumblr at imjustmeat! See you next chapter!