Chapter Text
Over the following days, Lapis gave up her habit of taking her beloved nightly slumbers on the couch, in favour of sleeping on the roof. It wasn’t remotely as comfortable or accommodating as the couch, but she made do. The unforgiving coldness of it bit at her nape when she lied down, and she always ensured that her gem was pressing into the surface. Temperature wasn’t a concern for gems, but that didn’t stop her from yearning for the warmth of pillows and the indoors.
As much as she longed for it, she knew she’d had her turn with it, and that it was now Peridot’s opportunity to relish in its comfort.
Right, Peridot.
Since she’d bid her goodnight a about five days ago, they’d started doing it every single night before Lapis fell asleep. After spending so long barely speaking to each other unless absolutely necessary, it was a little jarring to say the least. But, to be totally honest, she...
She sort of liked it. Just a little.
The night after their first shared ‘goodnight’, Lapis went straight up to the roof of the barn to sleep, determined to not make the same mistake she did the evening prior. The little noise of her weight against the rooftop must’ve been what alerted Peridot, as Lapis had made a point of staying quiet as to not disturb her.
“Goodnight, Lapis!” Peridot called up to her. By the eager and immediate nature of her voice, it sounded like she’d been sat waiting for Lapis to get back just to say goodnight to her, which Lapis found incredibly strange.
At first, she stayed quiet, for the most part due to how much the sudden call startled her. Then, sheepishly, she responded.
“Night.”
Seemingly satisfied, Peridot turned the TV on and adjusted the volume accordingly, not speaking another word for the rest of the night.
The next time, however, was a little different.
Lapis had returned to the barn after a long day of miserable thinking and somber introspection. She couldn’t help it when she had days like this. The only thing she could really do for herself is wait it out and try to distract herself. She sat on the roof, too enthralled in her own dejection to anticipate Peridot’s voice sounding from below.
“Night, Lapis!” A little more casual this time, even though the slight excitement remained in her voice.
Lapis waited. The TV’s audio didn’t fill the silence – it wasn’t going to until she spoke, she knew that. She just...She didn’t want to speak right now, lest her voice cracks or falters and gives away her sadness, her vulnerability.
Years and years of a few moments went by.
Tap. Tap.
Two soft, metallic sounds. That was all. Knuckles tapped gently against the roof of the barn, a shy response to Peridot’s enthusiastic call. Brief moments of silence followed. Then, that familiar hum of voices returned, distorted within the TV. Phew.
After that, their routine evolved to be a happy little ‘goodnight’ called up to her, to which she always responded with two gentle taps on the roof’s surface. It was nice. Grounding, in a way, especially during the more unpleasant nights. Peridot didn’t seem to mind the change either, much to Lapis’ relief.
It was their silly habit that they could share, one of the biggest reasons they maintained interactions with one another, and they both liked it. In the dark nights when the moon scarcely illuminated the vast expanse of countryside, not a person, gem or animal in sight for miles, having that little reminder that they weren’t alone helped, regardless of who’s company it was.
And, hidden away under the obscuring veil of the night, lied the smallest hint of a smile on Lapis’ face with each goodnight she received.
“Goodnight, Lapis!”
Peridot called up to her roommate, her voice bearing a little less enthusiasm than usual, which was surely noticeable in her tone. She’d just finished her least favourite episode of season five. A completely unnecessary filler episode that does nothing to advance the plot. Seriously! It’s so completely void of substance. It’s only purpose is to serve as fan service for the Paulette and Percy ship enthusiasts. But she couldn’t just skip it either, as that would ruin her strict viewing plan. Regardless, she still made sure to call up to Lapis for their nightly exchange.
They’d been doing this every night. It was great for Peridot, she loved routines. She also didn’t mind the gentle reminder that Lapis no longer abhorred her enough to avoid interaction with her at all costs. They’d made some miraculous progress in the past few weeks, so much so that Peridot had often thought there should have been more to it. Though, after some self-analysis, she hypothesised that such a feeling may have been borne from her own feelings about what she put Lapis through. They were essentially at equal footing now, but the guilt never stopped plaguing her. I mean, it wasn’t like they were friends yet either, but still.
She still hadn’t responded. That’s fine. She probably just didn’t feel like it tonight.
...What if she just didn’t want to do it anymore? That was fine too, she supposed, but it was a shame. She’d grown ever so slightly fond of their little routine, and she had no inclination to terminate it so quickly. But if Lapis didn’t like it then she had to respect that.
...
She could just check on her, really quickly! Just to make sure she’s okay.
With more haste than she’d anticipated, Peridot clambered down to the floor of the barn and into the cool embrace of the evening air. It was dark out already, the sky just beginning to give way for a dazzling array of distant stars. It made Peridot feel...smaller.
Reaching the roof of the barn proved to be a challenge in itself, with no ladder, stairs or platforms to aid in her ascent. Despite this, she remained persistent in her efforts, clinging to her unrelenting tenacity. She’d gotten up there before – she could do it again.
Following a series of stumbles and falls, Peridot managed to climb up a pile she’d made of old scrap and other items she’d found lying around, getting just high enough to climb up the wall of the barn and onto the roof. She allowed herself a moment to catch her bearings, disoriented from scaling the highly unstable improvised pile she’d thrown together.
It was after this brief moment of recuperation that Peridot lifted her gaze to Lapis. Slender arms lie wrapped around her form, clinging at her shoulders. She was sat upright, her fingers nearing her gem defensively.
Peridot knew what that meant, she’d seen it before.
By the looks of it, Lapis hadn’t noticed her arrival, or, if she did, she was too occupied to acknowledge it.
Peridot approached her slowly, crawling quietly on her knees. Now she had a better view of Lapis, one unobscured by the darkness.
She was shaking.
Instinctively, Peridot reached a hand forward to gently tap her shoulder, making her aware of her presence, but upon realising what a poor decision that was, based on previous events, she hastily retracted it.
She didn’t know what to do, really.
Lapis was obviously in a state of panic, one too deep to be pulled out of easily. Peridot’s hands were tied – what was she supposed to do? She could only curse at herself internally as her brain failed to come up with something that could plausibly work.
“...Lapis?”
Lapis flinched, startled by the voice. Her head turned.
“Uh, are you okay?”
The uncertainty was thick in Peridot’s voice in spite of her efforts to sound calm and collected.
Lapis stared at her, brows furrowed and twitching. By now, her whole body had shifted, her back twisting as much as possible without making her face her roommate. She was trying to protect her gem, it seemed. She was still shaking, too. Think, Peridot!
“Right- sorry, of course you aren’t. Sorry.”
Peridot shifted her own body as well, sitting with her legs crossed and her hands lying atop her knees. It was a pose that hopefully displayed her, albeit feigned, confidence, an attempt at appearing less threatening to Lapis. The silence that followed her words was filled by their unyielding eye contact, soft eyes meeting sharp ones.
“...Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Lapis’ eyes widened ever so slightly, brows creasing as she looked her up and down. She looked so sincere. It was...jarring to say the least.
She was having another episode, courtesy of yet another series of spiralling thoughts on a flight over a forest. She had intended to wait it out alone, but had made the unfortunate mistake of not responding to Peridot’s goodnight call whilst enveloped in the depths of her despair. Peridot coming up to the roof to check on her was an unanticipated development.
The last time Peridot tried to approach her when she was in such a state she was almost poofed, Lapis wouldn’t – couldn’t – let it happen again.
‘Go away, Peridot.’ It was on the tip of her tongue, the words clawing at her lips. But she couldn’t’ – wouldn’t – say it.
She just stared at her, her gaze softening into some pitiful expression, unable to maintain her icy glare.
Giving in to vulnerability was excruciating. It had been so much easier with Steven – but then again, it was Steven. He always seemed to know how to cheer her up or help her or just be there for her when she needed him. He had so much empathy, even when she didn’t deserve it.
Peridot was not Steven. Not even remotely close to achieving his level of understanding and kindness. Heck, he had to talk her through every attempt at an apology she made and she still managed to fail on every single try. She just...didn’t get her like Steven did. Nobody did.
But maybe...Maybe she was tired of feeling so alone. Every time she faced one of these episodes, she faced it alone. She isolated herself and toughed it out until it was over, only to be left with a horrible, sinking loneliness afterwards.
Maybe she was tired of being alone.
“Could you just...talk? About anything? I just...I need something else to focus on.”
Peridot gawked at her, dumbfounded.
She hadn’t really expected a clear, easy to follow response.
“Y-Yes. Of course. Um...”
Thinking of something to talk to proved to be more difficult than she thought. Talking about Jasper was obviously a big no-no, obviously. She followed her train of thought, noting to avoid anything she came up with that could remotely relate back to Jasper, or Malachite, or the mirror, or their past. Judging by Lapis’ expectant expression, she probably meant she wanted Peridot to talk at her, rather than to her.
One thing Peridot did know how to do was talk.
Sheepishly, the smaller gem shuffled up beside Lapis, sitting a decent distance away as to not startle Lapis.
“Okay, so, you’ve never watched Camp Pining Hearts to my knowledge, but there’s these two characters – Percy and Pierre – who, in spite of the obvious attempts by the writers to coax the viewers into rooting for a Percy and Paulette pairing, I believe are the optimal candidates for love interests for each other. Pierre is a total brute, vastly superior to Paulette. I mean, there’s no contest! Pierre out-performs Paulette in pretty much every field and-“
Lapis brought her knees up to her chest, folding her arms over her knees and allowing her head to rest there. Her movements were languid, but she was still trembling slightly. Peridot had trained her gaze on some random spots around her; the roof, the ground below, the stars, anywhere but Lapis’ eyes. It helped her focus when she wasn’t also trying to maintain eye contact as she spoke. Lapis’ eyes only occasionally left the distant place beyond the horizon she had set her gaze upon, every so often casting a glance at Peridot whenever she emphasised something or described something with particular enthusiasm. Very rarely, she’d even offer a quiet ‘hm’ in response.
Her rant lasted a long while, an hour or so if Peridot had to guess.
Lapis had stopped shaking by then, but she’d also stopped glancing at Peridot, her eyes now firmly unblinking as she stared at some unreachable spot in the distant sky.
“-So, anyway, that’s a brief overview of my thoughts on Percy and Pierre’s obvious compatibility. I could go into more detail but we’d be here for hours.”
Peridot let out a proud chuckle, impressed at her own extensive knowledge of Camp Pining Hearts. Her smile soon faded upon casting her eyes to Lapis.
“Lapis?”
“..Hm? Sorry, I was listening, I just...”
Unable to finish her sentence, Lapis gave a gentle sway of her hand to indicate what she meant. Peridot didn’t quite understand, but she decided not to question her. Once again, silence befell the two. Peridot turned slightly, mimicking Lapis’ position and resting her chin on her forearms. They were both looking up at the stars now, wordlessly coexisting in the soundless night.
“We..We could watch it together. If you want to.”
The suggestion was shy, quiet, made amongst fidgeting hands and nervous glances at the terraformer beside her. The regret was immediate, the moment had been ruined, sliced clean in half by words that broke their silence. Tension hung about Peridot, though she couldn’t quite figure out why. Perhaps she wanted someone to share CPH with more than she’d realised. Yeah.
“We don’t have to! I just thought- maybe it could help distract you from..uh..”It also occurred to Peridot in that moment that she had no idea what Lapis was going through. Okay, sure, she had a vague idea, but she didn’t truly understand it as much as she might need to.
“...Sure, I guess.”
...What?
Lapis could’ve sworn Peridot’s expression could light up the night sky with the way it brightened with startling immediacy.
She watched as the technician scrambled to her feet and eagerly made her way back don the side of the barn. Lapis followed hesitantly behind her, just barely noticing the precarious pile of junk Peridot had presumably used to scale the barn.
If she was totally honest, she didn’t really want to do this. This was far too much for her right now, but it’s not like anything else was going to be able to take her mind off of the sinking dread settling within her. Might as well try it, at the very least.
Upon entering the barn Lapis found that Peridot had already organised everything in front of the couch and was keenly slotting something into the TV before sitting back, a toothy grin stretching across her features. Lapis winced slightly, lifting herself onto the couch. Peridot was sat at the left end, flush against the arm of the sofa. Lapis copied her, pressing herself into the corners as much as possible. The large gap between them was very noticeable, but neither commented on it. Thankfully.
The TV flickered to life, and so, it seemed, did Peridot. Lapis could see her fidgeting excitedly in her peripheral. Must be something good, then.
Or bad. It was entirely possible that Peridot just had terrible taste.
Once it started, Lapis felt a slight grimace form on her face. The intro was so...Flowery? Melodramatic? Flamboyant? Strange. It was strange. Strange enough to make Lapis glance over to Peridot in confusion.
Perhaps she’d made the wrong decision by agreeing to this.
What followed, though, was far worse. She hardly understood any of it. There were all these people – but where did they come from? Was she supposed to know any of them? She stole a brief glance at Peridot, who was utterly fixated on the screen in front of her. Peridot looked over at Lapis and smiled, somewhat nervously.
“T-The intro is a little confusing, but they’ll explain things soon.”
Sure enough, that’s exactly what they did. After the first part, the characters began to provide exposition in their dialogue. Watching became easier, taking littler effort to understand, even with Lapis’ limited knowledge on human culture. Eventually, there came a sort of flow, a pleasant simplicity to what she was watching. It wasn’t long before the lingering dread that clung about her had all but vanished, now a thin mist soon to dissipate into nothing. It was a nice distraction, this Camp Pining Hearts, much to her surprise. When it ended, Lapis found herself pulled from an almost trance-like state.
“That’s it?” She asked, turning to Peridot once the credits began to pour down the screen. The disappointment in her voice was poorly hidden.
“Oh, no, that’s only the first episode. There’s a lot more.” Peridot explained. By now she was on the floor, adjusting something on the TV manually. “Do you...feel better?”
“Uh, yeah. Can we watch more?”
Peridot’s eyes widened. “Do you want to?” The surprise in her voice was very clear, accompanied by a confused, lifted brow to convey it further.
Lapis nodded.
“Oh, okay!” Peridot beamed, adjusting parts of the TV before hopping back onto the sofa with a satisfied smile.
They were like that for a while, watching episode after episode, Lapis’ troubles all but gone and Peridot’s excitement firmly rooted in its place. Here, Lapis felt so strangely...right. Wrapped in thin swathes of comfort, barely yet sufficiently shielded from the monsters in her head. It was silly, really, the enjoyment she got out of distracting herself with such trivial things – fiction, stories, made up people and their made up lives. Peridot shared the sentiment, though, evident through her constant explaining, announcing of her opinions with every scene that passed, and the general air of glee that radiated from her.
The pair had settled into a pleasant scene, lying comfortably across the sofa – Lapis with her legs on the floor, thanks to her height, and Peridot with her legs crossed atop the sofa. They were, for the most part, quiet, save for Peridot’s explanations and declarations. It came as a surprise to Lapis when Peridot went quiet after a particular scene. Pierre had gotten into a fight. Not one of his own fault, caused by some misunderstanding between him and another camp resident. Lapis had certainly expected Peridot to comment on it, but instead, the gem fell silent. About ten minutes passed before she said anything, causing Lapis to occasionally glance at her to make sure something wasn’t amiss.
“You...You could beat her, you know. Jasper.” Her voice was quiet, her words mumbled under a blanket of uncertainty.
Lapis felt something lurch suddenly within her, her eyes flicking to Peridot under furrowed brows.
“What?”
“Well- you just seem worried. That she might come back. I think that’s what’s going on, at least. I just wanted to reassure you that should a rematch occur between you two, you’d more than likely beat her a second time. She’s strong, sure, but you’re stronger. I think so, anyway.”
Lapis immediately notice she’d started to ramble. She knew she’d probably disturbed her by mentioning Jasper, so she was trying to provide an explanation. Pull back from it, make sure she knows what you mean. Lapis could see it on her face. Her body language. The way she used her hands to emphasise her point, more so than usual.
Lapis allowed herself a moment to think before responding.
Why would she say that? Clearly it’s been on her mind for a while now, but why? Why was she concerning herself with what Lapis was thinking?
Probably because it affects her too, idiot.
Right.
Lapis felt a pang of guilt. She wondered for a moment if Peridot often thought of Lapis’ outburst, how she felt about it, if it still frightened her. Yet, here she was, trying to comfort her.
Yeah, she was worried that Jasper would come back. She was scared. But that wasn’t what worried her the most. What really got to her – the rotting hand of dread that clutched her insides and coated her in a thick, impenetrable grime that engulfed her whole – was what Lapis might do if she came back.
Because if she did return, to hurt Lapis or anyone else, Lapis would shatter her.
Perhaps that was an exaggeration. She often dreamt about shattering her, not by choice mind you, but she knew she couldn’t possibly – wouldn’t possibly – go through with it. But that wasn’t really the point, was it? The point was that Lapis was a monster. Just as much as Jasper. More than Jasper, even, because somehow she’d managed to pull good people into her depths, trap them in the maelstrom that was Lapis Lazuli. Stars, she even started to feel sorry for Peridot, as weird as it sounded. But –
When she looked at her, when she looked at Peridot’s strained features as she tried her absolute best to convey her sincerity, to show her that she really did believe in her. Whether Lapis liked it or not, Peridot was reaching her hand out and giving her a sign that she cared. At least somewhat. Maybe it was to save her own skin, to have some small chance that Lapis might stop being so irritable and frightening – a threat. But, just maybe, Peridot didn’t want to be alone either. Perhaps they were both adrift, clinging at anything solid at the mercy of thrashing waves, even if it meant clinging to each other, of all people. Regardless of what they thought of one another, they were all they had. If Steven brought them together, they might as well try.
Lapis wasn’t at all willing to share her darkest secrets with Peridot, but she also wasn’t going to be cold and spiteful. She was done with that.
So, in the vast quiet of the night, under the roof of a home shared by the two, Lapis turned her head to the TV.
“Thanks, Peridot.”