It took a few moments to realize the meaning of Laney's question. The Gregorian calendar had no meaning in space, and Aquarius didn't even know how long she had been gone. Though if people were still looking for, she could only assume that it wasn't long enough. Eventually, they would stop. Nobody could chase phantoms forever. Except her, maybe.

And except Laney, maybe. Aquarius wanted to protest. To say that she wasn't coming back, or to tell her that everything would be okay, even if she didn't really believe that anymore. But saying anything would reopen the conversation, and after her uncomfortable realization, that wasn't something that she was prepared to do. If she started talking again, would she be able to maintain any shred of faith, or confidence, or hope?

"Do you have any of these things now?"

It took every ounce of Aquarius' willpower not to scream at Exidor, right then and there. That would surely draw Laney back, when she was finally leaving- no, finally, going back where she belonged. Earth was her home. There was nothing out in space worth sticking around for.

"Then why are you still here?"

There was nothing to be gained from answering. Nothing left for her, to cling to or to hope for. As if trying to shut out that knowledge, Aquarius heaved her heavy door shut, and rested against it, waiting for the world to end.