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Summary:

After losing her barn and her sense of pride, Peridot begins to rethink her role as a Crystal Gem.

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Greg’s words, accompanied by a warm smile, echoed through the green gem’s mind: “Hey, Peridot. I’m sorry about the barn. Figured you might be a little lonely right now while everyone’s gone. Diplomacy, ‘reforming’ and whatnot. So, uh, I got you this tablet since I heard you really loved that last one.”

The gem had stretched out eager palms to accept the gift, a genuine smile spreading across her face. “Wow,” she breathed, “thanks.” Thumbs tracing gently over the edges, her own cheerful reflection peered at her from the glossy black screen. It was perfect -- identical to the one she had before, in fact. Just seeing it again was already bringing back so many memories.

“Now, I dunno if all that internet-stuff is good for you, but hey-- as long as you’re happy.”

As long as you’re happy. Well, surely she didn’t have to worry about that anymore. She was a real Crystal Gem now, star and all, and everyone else was sure to come back soon. And she had her tablet again.

Still, the seed of worry had already been planted in her mind: What would happen if she wasn’t?


 

Peridot recalled these thoughts with scorn as she jammed a screwdriver into the edge of the tablet’s plastic casing, working impatiently to sever the screen. With a crunch, a web of cracks marred the underside of the display. A worthy sacrifice for her curiosity, she hoped. None of the other tools seemed quite right.

The cover was cast off to the blanket that she sat on, the inner workings revealed. How satisfactory. With clumsy but deliberate fingers, she fumbled to lift the wide, flat battery pack from its rightful place, peeling aside a few pieces of tape from the corners. From what she could infer, a central processing unit connected to a form of a ‘touch response enabler’. The other hardware simply functioned as an ‘internet’ connection and a low-quality camera.

How disappointingly primitive. In reality, the tablet was still nothing like her finger screens. Even with her older velcro improvement, it still didn’t even come close in quality. She must have deluded herself into thinking otherwise for the lack of better options.

Greg’s voice brought her back to the present, muffled against the doors of the van. “Peridot? Are you doing all right? Hear it’s about to rain pretty soon.”

The gem in question lowered the battery and turned briefly in his direction. “Yes,” she lied, “I’m simply...”

The remains of her new favorite toy were strewn across the blanket. It was gone, separated into broken parts that couldn’t possibly match the value of the whole. And her suspension of disbelief had been thoroughly shattered.

The day she got her first tablet, she was cackling giddily, face pressed into a newly-won plush ‘alien’ as she strode home from Funland. The device weighed heavy on her arm as she carried her prize. As impractical as it was in the moment, she never cared once as Steven struggled to congratulate her between pauses and Amethyst snorted her own laugh in response.

She didn’t care then what the purpose of the plush was. She didn’t care that her tablet could only connect to a world’s worth of information rather than a galaxy’s. In the moment, somehow, she had been blissfully distracted away from her burdens.

The screwdriver was still clenched in her palm. A sinking feeling manifested itself in her form; it was an empty emotion that she couldn’t quite put into words.

“I mean, if you’re having fun, I guess that’s what counts the most,” Greg offered positively.

Peridot remained silent, her gaze settling grimly on the mess of parts.

“Ok. Well, I’m just gonna give you some time,” Greg continued. The end of his phrase faded away, signifying that he was walking elsewhere. “Seeya later, maybe.”

Peridot kept still, her quietness permeating the air until she was sure that Greg was far enough away from her. She sniffled, trying not to think about the tears welling in her eyes. The longer she looked, the more the feeling tore at her chest and the more frustration boiled within her.

“Nrrgh!” she growled. She scrambled to her feet and flipped one half of the blanket, sending parts clattering into the opposite side of the van. “Why do you still exist?” she ranted, “I already destroyed you!”

She was met by dead silence once more. Still, Peridot remained stiff, seething, as if waiting for an answer. Her eyes narrowed at the cracked screen, which was lying beside a collection of boxes. Worthless.

The atmosphere was broken by a small tapping noise against the roof. The gem lifted her head briefly. Just the rain; nothing special.

She sighed reluctantly, shoulders sinking, reaching a few fingers beneath her visor to rub at her eyes. Slowly, she sat down on her comfy spot on the blanket. Even as she relented, an agitated energy still coursed through her form. It was restless and powerful like a guilty pleasure.

Peridot chuckled involuntarily, nervous and low, as she swiped a few tears from her cheek. In this moment, she had nothing left. All of that work to earn appreciation from the others had been for nothing. The ever-changing Earth could just as easily wipe away her current successes as her past failures.

Gently, she placed the screwdriver off to the side. The Earth was saved. But the barn was gone. Every meep-morp, collected trinket, and piece of Camp Pining Hearts merchandise had been vaporized into nothing. Her wilted garden, once her source of pride, couldn’t be saved by one rainstorm. Not even Bismuth’s persistent praise of her fight could lift her spirits, considering that such compliments only came from one gem. 

Peridot looked to the tablet screen once more, which was lying pathetically against a box. Her features softened with the onset of understanding. It had been a long time since she acted on her curiosity in such a passive way: exploring something not to experience excitement or to learn, but to satisfy an instinct.

Far beneath beyond her own conscious control, something in her programming had persuaded her to take a peek inside. It did not care that the device would be destroyed; it only existed to explore, document, and quantify.

A small shiver coursed through her form at the thought. There was still a part of her that existed beneath these arbitrary values of ‘fun’ and ‘happiness’. It lurked beneath every aspect of herself that she had supposedly ‘discovered’. A certified engineer, pilot, and professional Kindergartener. They still existed and would always be: just what she was made for and nothing more.

Peridot leaned down on all fours, reaching for the broken screen. She brought it close, holding it delicately by the edges. Fragments of her reflection peered back at her between infinitely small webs of cracks, details that she normally wouldn’t care to notice.

Already, she could feel the sickness easing from her form. It was simply an object to be fixed if she cared enough. Perhaps there was no other meaning behind it than what she had simply made up.

The gem wiped the remaining wetness from her cheek. A certain relief percolated in her chest. An unnatural but familiar sense of indifference. An excited half-smile began to creep across her face for reasons she did not know, nor cared to know. It was a strange rediscovery of some kind. Peridot’s fingers stretched out on the worn surface of the blanket, seeking a temporary anchor in her whirl of realization.

“Hey, Peridot! I think it’s gonna pour. Can ya let me in?”

The gem’s eyes narrowed at the door. “No!” she snapped. She couldn’t be interrupted now. Perhaps the greatest non-visual meep-morp of all time was taking place in her own mind. She knew she was about to reach a conclusion soon.

Her smile returned. She began to cackle quietly to herself, egged on by her sudden inspiration. She tossed the screen aside. Such a worthless distraction. Free from hindering attachments, she could be out taking advantage of as many resources as the Earth had to offer. Things that she clearly deserved after all of her efforts to preserve them. Things possibly worth more than her own feelings.

Her gaze swept through the interior of the van. She was surrounded by things. Boxes, heaps of clothes, and sound equipment lay stacked or thrown in piles around her. Functionally useless for her, but all contributing to Greg’s self-esteem. Even he had stated so: “Well, it’s not much, but it’s something. Just make yourself at home.” He wouldn’t bother to rub such ownership in her face if they didn’t contribute to this sense. Not that he had truly accomplished anything, unlike herself. 

The rain grew louder, muffling Greg’s voice further. “Look, I know you pushed me off a roof once, but can we just be pals for a sec? At least just toss me my keys.”

The gem’s outward excitement began to fade, replaced by deliberate calm. She had to concentrate on her next move. According to Greg and her own inferences, the ‘keys’ were the most important part of his belongings. Without them, he wouldn’t be able to access the van so easily.

Peridot reached beneath a fold of the blanket, digging mindlessly. Her hand soon reached a small, metallic object that emitted a quiet jingle. Fingers grasping around her prize, she lifted the keys victoriously to her eye level. Explore, document, quantify, and possibly acquire in some cases. She had nearly forgotten about that one.

The rain was barraging the roof. “Peridot, please!” the man’s voice strained with desperation over the weather, “the keys?”

The gem laid the keyring out in front of her, studying it for a second. There was only one key, actually -- the one for the van. And for now, it was hers. Peridot stared hard into the key, whining with effort as she called upon invisible forces. The dense metal curled slowly in on itself, melting and shriveling into a ball.

She sighed, some exhaustion overcoming her from the strain. Still, a twisted feeling of pride flourished in her chest. She was now temporarily superior to Greg, as much as a lower gem like herself could be.

Peridot picked up the crumpled key and crawled to the door. She watched the rain-streaked window solemnly. Already, she could feel a sense of regret creeping in. She might feel compelled to apologize later. But no, it would all be worth it to see the look on his face in the moment, to see him surprised by her ingenuity. To have him experience having nothing at all.

The gem reached for the latch, swinging the doors open into the roar of the rain. Her expression was reserved, almost indifferent, as raindrops began to stream down her face. Her gaze fell on the man waiting directly in front of her.

Without a word, Peridot held out her hand, presenting the wet, mangled keyring to Greg as if it were a gift. As soon as the he opened his own palms in response, she dropped the piece into them without care.

Greg’s eyes widened in horror. “B-but...my van... How did you-?”

Peridot lifted her chin. “You may keep this as an artifact of my former appreciation of you. And all of the Crystal Gems.”

The man stood still, shocked. “Wait, what?”

“I’ve discovered I no longer have any intentions of trying to be ‘happy’ nor any need to be. However, I assure you that, so far, I’ve found no large-scale consequences for this Earth from me, personally, not being happy. I’m only a Peridot, after all.”

“What exactly do you-?”

“Goodbye, Greg.”

“Peridot, wait-!”

The gem swung the doors shut with a satisfying slam. She kneeled, head hung, fingers clawed, waiting for the spinning sensation in her head to disappear. She shivered, both from the coldness of the rain that pricked her form and the overwhelming realization of what she had just done. Was she an enemy of the Crystal Gems yet? Or could they eventually forgive her again?

Finding no impact immediately, Peridot lifted her head cautiously. She took a breath to steady herself, easing out of her tense pose, arms lowering down by her sides. The rain seemed to patter quieter against the roof.

Greg’s voice came again from outside, causing her to jump. “Hey, what’s the deal here? What’d that key ever do to you? Can’t we just talk about this?”

She growled to herself. Despite her efforts, she could still hear that clod shouting from the outside.

“Weren’t you super into being a Crystal Gem just a couple days ago? I don’t see them going around ruining peoples’ keys. Doesn’t that matter to you?”

A conflict took place in Peridot’s chest: a sinking sense of fear competed against an stirring sense of excitement. But, no, she couldn’t focus on either. There were more important matters at hand.

Really, what difference could such begging make? She wiped her face and arms with one edge of the blanket, distancing herself from the muted pleas outside. The gem tucked the wet corner against the star on her chest, attempting to calm her internal madness. She was already here, safe in this van, taking refuge in her own choices. And nothing could change that.

Perhaps, by acting upon her natural tendencies more often, she could play to her own strengths. Outside of a ‘borrowed’ van and a constraining barn, there was an entire planet to explore. Away from painful feelings, confusing social conventions, and pointless responsibilities imposed on her. The possibilities were endless, from now on, so long as she was no longer confined by Earth’s rules.

“No, it doesn’t matter, actually,” she replied coolly to herself. Her fingers stroked against the soft surface of the blanket, curling around her newfound hoard of tools. “I’ve already found my worth right here.”