The bedroom was cold and the air was slightly stale.

"Can you open the window?" Wheeler asked quietly, not wanting to step any further into the room just now.

Linka crossed the threadbare carpet and threw the window open, pushing the curtains aside and letting in sunshine and breezes.

She could smell dust and furniture polish and the slight, flowery scent of perfume. Wheeler's mother.

She watched him carefully. He was staring at the bed.

"Wheeler?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah..."

"We do not have to, if this is too hard..."

"No, it's gotta be done..." He rubbed his forehead and made his way slowly into his mother's bedroom, pulling the closet door open carefully.

He breathed. Perfumed sachets of lavender were stored in here, and for the rest of his life the smell would remind him of her. He felt a tremendous sadness. In that moment there was no guilt or anger attached to it, though those feelings had not disappeared forever. But just then, it was only sadness. The loss hit him fully, and he realised she was gone, and she wasn't going to slide her arms into the sleeves of her favourite dress again, or complain that her favourite t-shirt was falling apart at the seams, or stand in the living room ironing her shirts as she watched the baseball. She was gone, forever, and it was unfair and real and there was no way to wake up from it or escape it.

He felt Linka take his hand and he tore his eyes away from the clothes hanging in the closet to smile down at her.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah." He nodded and squeezed her hand. "I just don't know what to do with this stuff."

"We do not have to do anything just now," she said gently.

He shook his head. "There's no point in it sitting here. It'll be just as hard to put it off. I'll box it up and send it away."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Far away. I don't think I want to see anyone else wearing this stuff. We'll send it along to one of the charities collecting for those mudslides, or something."

She nodded and together they pulled the clothes out and sorted them, folding them quietly and organising them into boxes and bags to be taken away.

It took a surprisingly short time, and the room was almost entirely bare by the time Wheeler declared it to be enough.

"Are you sure you do not want to keep any of this?" Linka asked him.

He shook his head. "The only thing I ever came back for was Ma. I'm not going to miss anything else."

She nodded and kissed his cheek.

Linka sighed and rolled over, but her arm hit bare mattress. She sat up quickly and spotted Wheeler sitting at the foot of the bed, staring at the floor.

He turned at the sound of her shifting, and smiled. "Morning, babe."

She smiled back at him. "Are you okay?"

"Just talking to Ma-Ti." He leaned over and kissed her, nuzzling against her nose for a moment. "Coffee?"

"Da, that would be good."

He smiled at her again and went to fill the coffee machine as she dressed.

She joined him in the kitchen and hugged his waist, her cheek pressed against his thin t-shirt, over his shoulder blade, as he made her coffee.

"I told Ma-Ti we'd be back tomorrow," he murmured. His voice vibrated within him and she smiled at the sound of it. She pulled away from him slightly and he turned to face her.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Are you ready?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted, running a hand through his bed-tousled hair. "I just don't want to be here any more, you know? I don't think it's good for me."

She looked up at him worriedly, and he kissed her forehead.

"I'm not going to run down to the bar any more," he promised. "I'm never doing that again. It was stupid and I'll never forgive myself for it."

"Wheeler –"

He shook his head and she stopped.

"I want to get back to work," he mumbled. "I miss it. Do you think that makes me a bad person?"

"Nyet," she whispered, sliding her arms around her neck. "Of course not."

"I still miss her," he said miserably. "I still feel like it's my fault." He wrapped his arms around her and kept speaking before she could interrupt him. "I just want to go home and have things feel normal again, you know?"

"I know," she said gently, stroking the back of his neck with her fingertips. "But there is something you have to do, first."

He sat back on his heels and looked miserably down at the earth in front of him. It was pale from the sun, and though the ground was yet to settle, shoots of grass were poking through already.

Linka touched the top of his head gently and left. He stared after her for a while, watching her wander through the gravestones, the sun shining on her blonde hair.

He turned back to his mother's bare grave and rubbed a hand over his face. "Linka insisted that I come and see you again," he sighed. He felt a little ridiculous, speaking to the mound of earth in front of him. He didn't want to think of his mother lying beneath the ground. He rubbed his jaw again and flicked his eyes back to Linka, who had moved further away and was still reading the names on all the stones around her.

"She's pretty fantastic, right?" he asked, a slow grin spreading over his face. "I think you'd like her, Ma. I wish you could have met her."

He sat there for a while longer, trying to sort his thoughts. He felt uncomfortable and sad and lonely. He watched Linka and loved how pretty she was and felt his heart swell and smile at the thought of her.

He looked at his father's grave, situated beside his mother's. "I'm not going to make the same mistakes you did," he said firmly. "I'm not doing that to her."

He placed a gentle hand over the earth that covered his mother. "I don't think I'll understand it, Ma," he muttered. "I'm not sure if I'll ever forgive you. You hurt me more than he did. I expected hurt from him. Not from you. But I hope you're happy, okay? I hope you're peaceful and you're okay."

He hesitated slightly, feeling the ridiculous nervousness and self-consciousness rise up in him again as he sat there in the sun. "I love you."

He got up and walked back to Linka, not sure if he felt better or worse, until she smiled at him.

He felt better.

The sight of the geo-cruiser sent a wave of warmth and relief through him. He suddenly felt great affection for it – it had seen them through tough times before, and now he was coming out of the toughest thing he'd ever faced, and it was here to take him home again.

He sat at the controls, but before he could do anything, Linka sank into his lap.

"Hey, I'm driving this time, babe," he said, grinning at her.

She smiled.

"Are you sure you are okay?" she asked. She wasn't doubting, or condemning, or judging him. She was simply asking.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "I'm not sure if I'm ever going to be okay, after this."

She stroked his hair. "Pomni, ya vsegda ryadom," she whispered.

He grinned and touched his forehead gently against hers. "Care to clarify for me, babe?"

She smiled back at him. "It needs no clarification," she answered, but she moved her mouth to his ear and whispered it again. "Remember, I am always next to you."

He held her tightly to him. "Then yeah," he answered. "I'm okay."