Bug Planet, Roach's nest
"Roach! Roach!" Bug rushed over to his friend. "Thank dead God you're here!"
"Bug!" Roach exclaimed, a bit surprised to see him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were training with the other Starship Rangers."
"Well, actually I had a separate training session. I can't do everything that humans can do. Apparently opposable thumbs are more effective than claws. So I finished my alternative training program before the other Rangers finished theirs, and I spent my extra time doing some research on the humans. I wanted to learn more about the kind of person February really is. And I found out some pretty damning stuff. You're the only one I can tell because you know me, and you know what it's like to be in love. So I convinced my trainer to let me to come down here. I told him that I needed to check in with the Overqueen, since I am the Ambassador and all."
"So what did you find out?" Roach asked anxiously. "Is it bad? Are humans really the hideous creatures we thought they were?"
"It's nothing like that. It's..." Bug took a deep breath. "I found out that humans live for very long periods of times. Years. A year is 12 months. Bugs like us live for about three to six months. The average lifespan of a human is about 78 years, though many live to be over 80, 90, or even 100 years old. Let's pretend that I live for six months and February lives for 78 years. Her 78 years would equal 156 of my lives."
"Wow," Roach breathed. "That's a long time."
"I know," Bug said miserably. "That's the problem. I will die, and she will still be alive. Without me. I don't want to leave her alone for so long."
"Does she know?" Roach asked. "I mean, is she aware that she will outlive you by so long?"
"I don't know. She hasn't ever said anything to me, so I don't think she realizes how short my life is compared to hers."
"You have to tell her."
Bug shook his head. "I don't think I should. It would just make things weird. I don't want her to look at me like I'm dying. Telling her would change everything. I just want things to stay the way they are, the way they've always been."
"So what, the two of you will just go along like nothing is wrong, and then one day you'll just die, and she won't know why? You need to tell her so she is ready for this."
"But how? How do I tell her, Roach?" Bug shouted, angry that his friend was trying to tell him what to do and upset because he knew Roach was right. "How do you tell someone you love that you will love her for the rest of your life, but the rest of her life will continue far longer? How do you tell her that you're leaving her, that your lifespan is a fraction of her overall life? How do you do that? I can't tell her. I won't tell her. "
"But you have to tell her, Bug. You can't just go on, pretending that you two will spend the rest of your lives together. You'll spend the rest of your life with her, but she won't be able to spend the rest of her life with you. She deserves to know."
"But just imagine how hard this is for me, Roach. Imagine yourself in my position."
Roach fell silent, thinking it over.
Bug sighed. "The thing is that I love her so much, I don't want to see her hurt, especially if I'm the one doing the hurting."
"But don't you think that you'd be hurting her even more by lying to her?" Roach said. "Remember how you lied about being a human, and that ended up hurting her in the end. She trusted you, and you told her that you were something you weren't. And you almost died because of that lie, and if you had, don't you think that would have hurt her?"
"I wouldn't be lying," Bug countered. "Just withholding the truth."
"Withholding the truth is basically lying, Bug. You need to warn her of what the future holds, rather than have her find out when it's too late. You know she will outlive you by an extraordinarily long time, at least in our terms, so if you tell her now, you'll be giving her time to come to terms with this. If she can start grieving early on, when the time comes for you to part ways, she won't be hurt as much. That's what you want, right? To hurt her as little as possible?"
"Yeah, but I…"
"Bug," Roach said firmly. "You need to tell her."
x
Starship 15A2
"Um, February?"
"Oh, Buggy, there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!" The bubbly blonde wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight.
Bug sighed. This was not going to be easy. "I got done with my training a little early, and then I had to go down to Bug World and take care of some business. Ambassador stuff."
"Oh, Bug, you're so important," February gushed. "I guess that makes me pretty lucky to have you, huh?"
"Well, February, I need to talk to you. About us."
February's eyes widened. "You're not breaking up with me, are you?"
"No, no," Bug said hurriedly. "It's just… See, I did some research on humans because I wanted to find out more about where you come from and the kind of person you are. And I found out something very important. We really don't know much about each other, and I think it's time we got to know one another."
"Oh, Bug, are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" February began toying with her jacket zipper.
Bug thought for a moment, wondering what it was that February thought he was suggesting. "Um, I don't think so. See, humans live for a very long time. Years and years. Bugs, well, most of us don't even live for one year, let alone 70 or 80 like humans. The way I see it, I have about 3 months left with you."
"Wait, so you're not breaking up with me now, but you are in 3 months? Why would you do this to me?"
Bug sometimes wondered if February was just so blinded by love that she wasn't able to think things through, or if she really wasn't as smart as she said she was. He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and just spell it out for her.
"No, February. I am not breaking up with you now, or in 3 months. But in 3 months, I will not be here anymore. I will have moved on, leaving you behind."
"I still don't know what you mean, Bug…"
"Damn it, February, are you really this dumb? I'm going to be dead! I have 3 months left to live, and then I will die. Can't you get it through that head of yours? Maybe those people were right. Maybe you are a dumb slut."
February gasped, tears forming in her eyes. "Bug…" she whispered, the hurt clearly present in her voice. She turned away from him, blinking rapidly in an attempt to staunch the flow of tears.
"Oh, my dead God, February, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. It's just… I'm frustrated. I've been trying all day to figure out the best way to tell you this, because I know how hard it must be for you to hear that you will be spending so much of your life without me. Please, February, I didn't mean any of that." Bug went to her side and put a claw on her arm. "I'm so sorry. You're not dumb. You've proven to me time and time again that you are the smartest person I've ever met."
"Bug, I don't know if this is working out," she said, meeting his eyes. "You obviously do not know how to flirt if you think telling me I'm stupid is the way to win me over. And pretending to die? What kind of idea was that? Did you think it would make me feel sorry for you, so we would be like star-crossed lovers, doomed from the start but still willing to try?" February was really crying now, streams of tears streaking her face. "Well, it didn't work. I thought you were different, Bug. I thought I was safe with you, that you would never try to manipulate me like this. I'm always being manipulated because everyone assumes I'm too stupid to figure out what they're doing. I just thought that I had finally found someone who wouldn't do that to me. I guess I was wrong."
"No, February." Bug was near tears now, too. "I'm telling you the truth. And I didn't want to hurt you by telling you this, but I failed at that. I never want to hurt you like I did when I lied to you about being human. That's why I wanted to warn you that our time together is going to be short in human terms. Three months for me is a long time, but to you, it's only a minuscule period that can easily be forgotten. And really, that hurts me more than you, knowing that our love and time together will have meant so much to me, but won't mean anything to you."
"Oh, Bug…" February's voice softened. "Of course it will mean something to me. I will always love you. You were the first person who ever made me feel like I could be successful, someone who is smart enough to get the job done."
"Not anymore," Bug muttered, ashamed of his blow-up.
"I know you didn't mean it, Bug. And I didn't mean what I said, either. I can see why you're upset. I can't imagine having to tell you that I wouldn't live long enough for us to spend the rest of our lives together. That was very brave of you, Bug." She sniffled, trying to stop crying. "I just wish I could be as brave as you."
She wrapped her arms around Bug and buried her head against him. "I don't want to let you go, Bug," she whispered. "I don't think I can."
"We still have 3 months," he replied. "Let's make the most of it."
x
3 months later
"It's time, February."
The lump February learned to suppress over the past few months whenever she looked at Bug suddenly blocked her throat.
"Are you sure?"
Bug nodded weakly.
February vowed to herself that she would be strong for Bug. She wouldn't cry. His last moments of life should not be filled with the sound of her sobbing.
"Be tough," she told herself, thinking of Taz.
Bud lifted his head and gave his claw to February. She gripped it tightly.
"I won't let go," she promised. "I will be with you until the very end."
"Thank you."
He'd requested to return to Bug World for his final days. It was his first home, after all, and he wanted it to be his last. Bug knew February was uncomfortable on his home planet, but she refused to let her fear and disgust keep her from going with him, and he was grateful for that.
Bug was still, conserving what little energy he had left. He stared up at the starry sky, remembering all those times he looked up at it before, wishing he could explore the unknowns it held. And he had. Against all odds, he, Bug, a bug, had become a Starship Ranger. Dreams really did come true. And to share that dream with the most amazing person he'd ever met, someone he loved… It was the greatest life he could have asked for.
"I always wondered if I would know when I was dying, or if I wouldn't know the difference and just wake up one day and find that I am no longer in this world," he said suddenly. "But I can feel death, February. I can feel it, creeping in and taking ahold of me, sucking out my life. But it doesn't hurt. I thought it might hurt, but it's almost pleasant. I feel relaxed and calm, like no matter what happens, it will be okay."
February was finding it very difficult to remain strong and not cry. "Bug, please don't talk like this. Please."
"I'm sorry, February. But I've accepted my fate. And you should, too. You won't be held back by me. You'll be free to search for someone better than me. I know what we had was…unconventional, to say the least. You deserve a more normal relationship, one that will last."
"No one will be better than you, Bug," February whispered. "I don't even want to think about being with anyone else."
"But February…" Bug squeezed her hand. "It was fate that brought us together, and fate that is tearing us apart. It was meant to be. Maybe I was meant to be with you for my whole life, but you are meant to be with someone else. When I'm gone, I don't want you to waste the rest of your life mourning me. I want you to be happy."
"But how can I be, Bug? You're the only one who makes me happy. Without you, I don't know what I'll do!"
"February, listen to me." Bug stared at her intensely. "You will need to move on. I'm begging you to. That is my last request. For you to move on after I die. Can you do that?"
February shook her head. "I don't think I can, Bug. I love you too much. Eep opp ork ah ah."
"If you truly love me, then you'll be able to let me go. You'll always remember the times we spent together. We changed each other's lives for the better. But my life is over now. Show me that you can let me go." Bug glanced down at her hand. "Let go."
February took a shuddery breath. "I…"
"Let go," Bug repeated, weaker this time.
February could feel Bug slipping away, which made her want to hold on to him even tighter.
"Let go." Barely audible this time. Or maybe he hadn't spoken at all and it was just the echo of his voice in her head.
But she couldn't do it. She couldn't let him go. She wanted to sit here with him for the rest of her life, pretending that he was still with her.
She was weak. She knew this for a fact. She wasn't even strong enough to follow Bug's last request. She couldn't let him go. She wasn't even strong enough to keep from crying.
"I'm so sorry, Bug," February sobbed. "I couldn't do it. Not because I don't love you, but because I'm not brave like you. And I hate myself for failing you. You asked me for something so simple, and I couldn't even do that for you. And now you're gone."
Because he was gone. Bug's claw slipped from her hand. She couldn't prove that she would be strong without him, because she knew for a fact she could never be strong again. He made her strong; he was the support she needed. And now she had nothing.