"I can't believe that… that tralk had the nerve to even-"

Aeryn sighed, futilely attempting to keep her anger in check. Her teeth grinded against one other and she stood, beginning to violently pace the maintenance bay.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Just, take a breath," John advised, removing his focus from his module and watching the woman as her hand fell to her pulse pistol.

She turned to look at him, the look on her face almost disbelief.

"Excuse me?"

He raised his hands in mock defence and chucked,

"I just think you're overreacting a little. All it was-"

"No!"

He fell silent, clearly having hit a nerve. He really thought they'd been getting somewhere but she'd been so distracted lately; not quite all there when he tried to talk to her. He knew she could be cold at times, but it was almost as if she wasn't doing it purposely anymore. Like it was something beyond her control.

Aeryn turned her back and began to pace again, mumbling something unintelligible under her breath. And after he was sure she wasn't going to shoot him, he returned to the repairs on his module, humming Greased Lightning quietly to himself.

A few moments passed before he spoke again,

"Hey, Aeryn, can you pass my-"

He looked up to find himself alone, except for the few DRDs that whirred around him as he worked, in the large room.

"Aeryn?"

The sound of a pulse pistol's blast rang through Moya's corridors and John immediately knew where it had come from. His pace immediately picked up and he ran towards his quarters.

But it was too late.

He watched as she slid down the wall, leaving nothing but a trail of blood behind her, and then moved his eyes across the room to the shaking hand in which the pistol fell from to the floor. Up the toned arm, and into the widened grey eyes of the woman responsible.

"John… help me."

Her voice was weak. He'd known something was amiss. And there was something about her words that only confirmed his suspicion of it being something she had no control over. But he didn't have time to help her now.

He approached the body, slouched; if it wasn't for the hole in her chest, she could easily have been relaxing. Brushing the blonde hair from her face, tears began to well in his eyes. They'd never been close, but there'd definitely been something between them.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, holding her frail form to him.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Aeryn slide down the opposite wall and hug her knees to her chest, eyes focused on anything but him.

"Aeryn," he said, softly.

Nothing.

"Aeryn, look at me."

She reluctantly did as he asked, and he saw that her eyes too, gleamed with tears.

"I never meant to-" her head fell onto her knees. "Something's wrong... I would never-"

He knew. Not even Aeryn would kill someone in cold blood.

Not even Gilina Renaez.