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Lapis lifted her head, focused, and reformed.
She took it slowly, feeling her limbs expand, solidify, and settle back into themselves. She felt her hair fluff out. Her new skirt whispered to a place just below her knees. Inhale – the air was cool, salty with the ocean – exhale. Her feet touched the floor.
Steven’s temple was dark, the bright human belongings subdued by the calm of the night. Outside, she could hear the comforting rhythm of the surf as it muttered and breathed to itself. Whsssssssshhh – inhale – Rhhhhhhrrm – exhale. Lapis noted the couch behind her – apparently her gem had been placed on the cushions – then called out softly into the house, trying not to shatter the quiet.
“Steven? Peridot?”
“No – just me.”
Startled, Lapis whirled around to squint at the hulking shape silhouetted by the low embers in the woodstove. Kind face, smith’s apron, and huge, work-roughened hands: a Bismuth. The one she had seen before, down on the frantic shoreline of the beach. Lapis relaxed slightly, but her voice still came out cautious.
“Um. Hi. Where’s Steven?” She asked, and Bismuth grimaced. There was a bad taste in her mouth – why would the temple of the Crystal Gems be deserted if the Diamonds had been somehow driven back? Were they all bubbled? Speeding towards Homeworld? Lying shattered in the sand?
Bismuth must have seen her face tighten, because she put her big hands up and shook her head.
“Hey, hey, don’t worry – everything’s fine. You and Peridot were the only ones discorporated, and everyone else came out without a scratch.” She patted the seat next to her, but Lapis shook her head. Bismuth shrugged and continued. “Once the Diamonds found out that Steven’s had Pink’s gem this whole time, there was a big old family reunion. Wouldn’t put him down. He did some talking with ‘em, and the short version is, they decided the next step is curing the corrupted gems on Earth – and that they need White Diamond to do it.” Bismuth shuddered. “Steven, Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, and that human kid are all on the way to Homeworld right now.”
“They’re going to see – her? White Diamond?” Lapis hissed, and remembered what she hadn’t missed about her physical form: the shock of fear that squeezed her in double fists of dizziness.
Bismuth nodded again, but somehow she didn’t seem worried.
“Yeah. But he seemed ready for it.” She laughed, seeming equal parts bemused and delighted. “You shoulda seen him talking to the other two! Not a scared bone in his body. Besides, with Blue and Yellow as his entourage, I don’t see what she could do.”
Lapis bit her lip, tentatively allowing herself to feel comforted. With this first worry out of the way, her mind immediately leapt to a hundred more questions, most having to do with another conspicuous absence. One of them slipped out without her permission.
“Where’s Peridot? She didn’t go with them?”
Bismuth smiled like she had been waiting for this and gestured towards the door.
“Nah. Down there. She went out to get some fresh air after the fourth time I told her a watched Kindergarten never yields.” At Lapis’s blush, she added, “She’ll be happy to see you.”
“I hope so,” Lapis muttered, and she turned and went out without another word.
Below, soft waves smoothed the shore, and the Diamond’s ships jutted from the ocean like broken branches. Chunks of their glittering debris were scattered along the beach, though most of the smaller pieces had already been cleared away. Lapis felt a surge of guilt as she saw the shell of their brokenbacked barn, and she looked away. Her eyes landed on a tiny figure huddled further down the beach.
Heart skipping, Lapis opened her wings, took off, and touched down behind her.
Peridot was staring fixedly at the water’s breaking point, eyes half-closed and arms wrapped around her folded knees. Her hair was different – though the top still came to a point, it spread up from the tight triangle Lapis knew in relaxed little brushes and tufts. She could see three edges of a star motif peeking around her shoulder.
She realized she had been staring, and she coughed a bit. Subtle. Stop worrying. It’s Peridot – it’s fine.
Peridot scrambled to her feet. When she saw Lapis, her eyes widened until the moonlight found them, caught in them, and pooled. Her face was an open book of feelings, some of the enormity Lapis could feel looming in her own chest reflecting back at her in the silvery light.
“You’re back,” Peridot said, but still it sounded like a question. Something was hurting Lapis’s throat.
“I’m back,” she agreed, and Peridot took a step closer, her face warring between hopeful and stricken. The tension in the air took Lapis’s breath away, and for a second she just stood, trying to reclaim it.
“Peridot,” she forced out, “I – I really wanted to tell you I was sorry.” A million thoughts reared up, her own cowardice biting a hole in her tongue. “I think we should probably talk – “
Peridot interrupted with the distinct air of someone who doesn’t want to hear an unpleasant truth.
“What do you propose we talk about?” she asked. “You’re home. I forgive you for leaving. Everything can go back to how it used to be.”
Lapis stared blankly for a moment at the complete lack of comprehension in her face. Then, carefully, she leaned forward and gripped her shoulders. Peridot’s skin was cool and soft under her palms. Lapis saw her swallow.
“Peridot. How can things go back to how they were? I – I was too scared to fight – even after what you said to me, I wasn’t brave enough to stand up for our home. I – I even took the barn!” A humorless little laugh escaped her, but neither of them were smiling. “Doesn’t – doesn’t any of that bother you?”
Peridot frowned. Lapis felt sick with guilt.
“I – I can’t say it doesn’t – but – well, logically speaking –“
Lapis’s stomach sunk further. Peridot was stuttering as she always did when she said something she knew Lapis might disagree with, and a sudden realization hit like a brick to the face.
“You’re afraid of me,” Lapis whispered. Her hands felt like dead weights, and she dropped numb fingers from Peridot’s shoulders. Peridot opened her mouth, looking helpless, but Lapis stepped away from her, opening distance between them. “You – have you always been scared of me? Is that why – why you –“ She couldn’t finish. Her mind flashed back to the night she had left, the night she had been replaying in her mind ever since it happened – the bloody pink of the sunset, Peridot’s wide, tentative eyes, and what she had said, flinching, at Steven’s silent prompts. There are many things I should say, but – well, they would upset you, so in general I don’t say them.
Peridot’s hands lifted, making as if to grab onto Lapis, but she seemed to think the better of it at the last minute, and fell back clutching awkwardly at her chest.
“I’m not afraid of you! Well – not so much of you as of you – leaving. Or – or things going back to how they first were. When you first agreed to share the barn?” Peridot dropped her eyes, her hands twisting nervously. “It was – well, it was terrible at first. And once I realized how much I valued your company, I – I was afraid to say anything that might make you rescind it.” Lapis felt something in her twist, vicious and guilty, as she remembered all the hundreds of ways Peridot had accommodated her, working tirelessly to make her comfortable, literally bending over backwards to make her laugh. And what had she done in return? She had taken and taken and taken, and then, when her chance had come, abandoned everything, leaving her friends to fight a hopeless battle against shatterers. She took another step back, self-loathing rising in her throat, and Peridot squeaked out, “Don’t leave again!”
Suddenly, horribly, it was tempting. Lapis could feel her wings struggling to burst free and carry her away from all this – these terrible feelings, the choking guilt, Peridot’s disappointment and emotions and her big scared eyes. And more than the potential of physical security, Lapis could feel the lifting and distance of her mind, the dissociation – the safety of seeing it all from far away, where nothing could touch or bind or hurt her. It would be so easy to sweep away, to watch this whole mess shrink to meaningless pinpricks on the beach below.
But then her eyes locked onto Peridot’s face, and the expression she saw there forced concern to replace the distance. It was so raw it scared her – every line of her face ached with a naked, helpless fear. Lapis’s spine stiffened with resolve. She would never cause Peridot pain again – she was better than this now. She tamped down her pounding heart, quelled her unformed wings, and quieted her gem.
I’m done running.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, and Peridot nodded. Abashed relief was written across her face, as if she were embarrassed to have spoken but glad of the results.
There was a second of too-full silence before Lapis sat down, close enough to the water that the waves lapped at her toes. She patted the sand next to her, and after a brief hesitation, Peridot joined her.
“I really am sorry I left, Peridot,” Lapis said. Her voice came out very quiet. “I just – I couldn’t stay when I thought of fighting, or being captured again.” The what-if was still there, looming in the forefront of her mind: what if they had lost? Had it been so wrong of her, wanting to keep what she loved safe? “I know you forgive me,” she interjected as Peridot opened her mouth with a look of desperate reassurance on her face, “but I – that doesn’t really make me feel less bad.”
Peridot frowned.
“Why?” she asked, and Lapis bit her lip, a whole confusion of misery rising in her throat. She struggled to express it.
“I – I – maybe I feel like – you shouldn’t forgive me. Like – it shouldn’t be this easy,” she suggested, and guilt roared out again from the mess of feelings in her chest. “I – I took away everything we had together, and you’re just – letting me come back?”
Peridot’s mouth was tight, and when she spoke, her voice was small and barely controlled.
“You’re right,” she said, and Lapis felt her heart squeeze and contract with sudden fear. “You shouldn’t – shouldn’t run away from everything that scares you and then expect forgiveness. Maybe I – it’s possible I should be trying harder to not forgive you –“ her voice wavered and broke – “but I’m so happy to see you that it isn’t very effective.”
Oh.
Lapis stole an inhale that was suspiciously watery, and, for once without thinking of causation or consequence, she reached over and pulled Peridot into her arms.
They both stiffened a bit at the physical contact, but Lapis relaxed as Peridot suddenly returned the embrace, her face coming to rest in the crook of Lapis’s neck and shoulder. Lapis wound her arms around Peridot’s back and tried to remember how in the stars Steven did this so well – she breathed out, letting her torso melt against Peridot’s, and breathed slowly in again. Behind them, the surf mirrored the sentiment. She found it easier to talk into Peridot’s soft cheek, her small shoulder.
“I missed you,” Lapis breathed, and felt the vibration as Peridot swallowed.
“Who wouldn’t?” Peridot asked, straining to make her voice sound disgruntled, and Lapis huffed out a surprised laugh, holding her a little tighter. And after a second, she spoke again, because the warm feelings were balancing out the scary ones. This was worth it – Peridot was worth it. How had she ever forgotten that?
“Hey… I also wanted to say that – maybe things shouldn’t go back to how they were,” Lapis finally said, and abruptly Peridot drew back. The fear was back in her eyes.
“You – you don’t mean our living arrangement?” Peridot said, and the desperation was back. Lapis could finally recognize it: Peridot racing through options, willing to compromise or sacrifice anything to make her happy. “We can fix the barn – with Bismuth’s assistance, that should barely take an Earth cycle. Or, if you’d rather, we can build something else? With separate rooms? Or I could –“
“No,” Lapis interrupted, as gently as she could. “That’s not what I meant. I mean with – with what you’re doing now, Peridot. The priority thing. I don’t want you to be afraid of telling me what you want.”
Peridot blinked, considering. Lapis barreled on, feeling nervousness squeeze up her throat.
“I – I know I don’t deserve your trust after what I did. But if you could try to trust me again, then just – trust that I’m not going to leave because you said Jasper’s name, or, or, put the TV on too loudly, or tried to climb in with me but made us both fall out of the hammock.” Lapis felt tears burning behind her eyes, and she swiped an angry arm across her face, embarrassed. Stars, she was bad at this.
When she looked up, Peridot was scrubbing an arm across her eyes too. She sniffed, and when she spoke, her voice was chillier than Lapis expected.
“Okay. But I’ll remind you that I did everything for you out of consideration for your fear of emotional commitment – and the moment I told you what I wanted, you left.”
Lapis gaped at her, stung. Peridot was staring at the sand to her left, arms crossed protectively over her chest, mouth set in a wobbly line. The worst part was that she was right – suddenly, Lapis realized part of the reason she had left was because being asked to give herself emotionally, to drag up the part of her that still felt, was almost as unspeakable to her as being trapped on the bottom of the ocean. At least, it had seemed that way before the empty solitude of the moon – before she’d had to watch Peridot every day, mouth moving soundlessly with words she couldn’t hear, and feel and feel and feel without even having the option to share it with somebody else. She closed her mouth and felt something set in her heart, like two halves of a split stone finally, perfectly, coming back together.
“I’m never leaving Earth again,” Lapis said, her voice hoarse, and Peridot’s head shot up. “Not unless everyone comes with us. I promise.”
“That won’t make you feel – trapped?” Peridot asked cautiously, and Lapis realized with a shock that, somehow, it didn’t. It was an easy promise to make, because with the whole universe to travel, solar systems to fly through, stars to brush and endless planets to explore – in the end, she had still chosen Earth.
“No,” she said, and the wonderful simplicity of the statement made her repeat it. She smiled. “No. Earth is my home now. But more important – “ she felt a lump in her throat, and she swallowed at the look shining out from Peridot’s eyes, “ – it’s our home. Together. And – Peridot, I want to be better this time.”
“No more leaving,” Peridot said, her voice suspiciously wavery, and Lapis swallowed again.
“No more leaving,” she agreed, and Peridot sniffed again. Lapis blew out a shaky sigh. “I – I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop feeling bad for a while, though.”
Peridot looked up, thoughtful. When she spoke, the tears had disappeared from her voice under the comfort of providing information.
“Maybe it just takes time,” she suggested. “When you were – ah, away, I planted a garden with Steven and Amethyst, and I was convinced that one failure rendered the whole experience null. But then I realized it’s always possible to try again.” She smiled a little bit, and it was so unlike her usual wide grin that Lapis felt a strange, wistful wonderment dawn in her chest. What had she missed when she was gone?
“Time, huh?” she said, and Peridot nodded sagely. “I think we have that. Y’know, I once heard a great strategy for spending time with someone you care about.”
Peridot turned her head, looking intrigued, and Lapis smiled mischievously.
“Care to watch the sun come up, and figure out what we’re going to do with all this time?” she quipped, and watched Peridot’s face light up like the first cloud in a sunrise, brushed and illuminated with something greater than gold.
“I think that sounds – agreeable,” she said, and Lapis felt a warm tangle of feelings rise in her chest. Her pulse fluttered and broke, like a drop in a still pool of water. She smiled.
They sat on the shore for hours, Peridot on Lapis’s lap, sometimes talking, sometimes not, and all the time looking up at the shifting sky. The stars glittered down at them, eventually paling in a prelude to the rising sun. And when it broke at last over the horizon, spilling blues and roses and golds with reckless abandon across the glassy sea, Lapis pulled Peridot a little bit tighter against her. Together, they held each other close, bathed in the promising light of a new day’s beginning.