Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steven laid on his back, staring up into a deep and horrible darkness; he’d had this dream before. He willed himself to sit up, knowing that this was what the dream demanded for it to end.

All around him, he could see the backs of the people he loved, walking away from him into the void. He could hear them, in a distorted way- like he was under water. There was Pearl’s melodic peals of laughter, Connie’s excitable but indistinct chatter, and his Dad singing some familiar song from carefree van rides of the past.

In previous nights, he’d tried to catch up to them, but they were always just ahead, their faces unknowable.

He clasped his hands over his mouth, resisting the urge to call out to them. The worst part of the dream is that his voice was not his own. Any time he tried to beg them to stay, instead of words he emitted an ear-shattering roar, which grew louder the longer he cried. The roar caused the darkness to overtake his loved ones until he was completely alone.

So, Steven remained silent.

“Hello?” came a small voice behind him.

Steven whirled around. That was new. No one had ever spoken to him in this dark place, and merely having his existence acknowledged was enough to make tears sting his eyes.

“Oh,” said Steven, as his face fell, “it’s only you.”

Steven gasped, relieved to hear his own speech instead of the monstrous sounds from prior nights.

He looked upon the small person before him- “Classic Steven,” as Amethyst called the younger, chipper version of himself. The boy gazed up at him from his round, wide-eyed face.

“Only me?” he repeated, “Wait, who are you? Are you- um…”

“I’m you,” Steven said, unable to make eye contact with the trusting child, “What, you don’t even recognize yourself?”

“Oh my gosh!” chirped Classic, “I mean, I kind of hoped, but I wasn’t sure! I actually grew? You’re so tall! So cool looking! And I love the jacket! Are jackets our thing now? What are our powers like now? What about Connie? Are we-“

“Stop,” said Steven, “This dream was bad enough already, but this is just weird. I’m ready to wake up now.”

“What? But I just got here,” the little boy’s face fell.

Steven turned away from him, pinching his arm hard until he shot up from his bed.

It was 4am, and he never tried to get back to sleep. He knew the other Steven was there waiting for him- the one everyone wished he still was.

***

The next night, Steven opened his eyes to that familiar darkness, but this time Classic stood over him, looking down with a furrowed brow, slight bags under his eyes.

“I think I figured out why I’m here,” he announced.

“What are you talking about?” said Steven, “You’re a dream. You’re here because my mind put you here.”

“No, I don’t think that’s it. I’m real. And I don’t mean real like a memory. I mean I traveled here. To help you.”

“What, like time travel?”

“Yeah, I guess? You know, like when we were in Kiki’s dream, or when we saw Lapis and Jasper fused as Malachite while we were dreaming?”

Steven shrugged, “So my consciousness can travel through space and time? Ok, cool. Good to know.”

“The only thing I don’t get is, why don’t you remember any of this? If you’ve already done it?”

Steven tried to straighten his back and look wise and aloof like Garnet would, “You might be from another timeline. Or, if we’re from the same timeline, it might create a paradox if you remembered visiting yourself in the future. Knowing this stuff ahead of time might change my future self, and therefore create a different future self than the one you’re visiting. Your mind could have blocked out this stuff to prevent a paradox from forming, only preserving the memory in my mind- in the time it’s actually happening. Or you could have just forgot because, you know, dreams be like that.”

“Ok, I understood like half of that maybe, but I didn’t remember any of this when I woke up. It all came back to me once I went to sleep, though. I think this time travel stuff is kind of hard on me. I was sick all day yesterday, which really freaked Pearl out, because you know, healing spit. I don’t normally get sick.”

“Right,” said Steven, still not completely convinced he wasn’t just dreaming up this version of himself, “I wish Connie was here. She would know how to make sense of all this.”

“Oh, she is here! Isn’t that her over there?” Classic pointed to Connie’s form perpetually walking away from them, “I like the haircut! And she’s tall now, too!”

“Steven, wait!” he called out to the boy, who was already bounding after her in large, floating leaps.

“Connie!” Classic shouted, clasping his hand around hers and turning her around.

Steven’s stomach caught in his throat as he saw where her face should be, a swirling blankness vaguely colored like her skin. Her head was tilted down towards Classic, unmoving and unfeeling.

“Ah, Connie?” Classic Steven fell backwards in shock, “What’s happened to you?”

Steven ran to the child, grabbing him around the shoulders and pulling him away from the disturbing image, now fading back into the darkness. He hugged Classic to him, placing his hand on the back of the puffy hair burrowed into his chest, soaking his shirt with tears. The child even smelled of the Crying Breakfast Friend Cologne he used to wear. It all felt too real for him to just be another part of his dream, and Steven was sure that this boy really was himself from the past, in some form.

“It’s ok,” Steven croaked, still trying to convince his current self as much as his past one, “This isn’t real, remember?”

“I know it’s not, but what happened to you? Why are you dreaming about this horrible place so much? Is Connie- is she still-” he hiccuped, took a deep breath, and said in a small voice “-is she still alive?”

“Alive? Of course she is. She’s fine. Everyone is fine. This is just a bad dream.”

Classic Steven backed up, glaring, “You know I’m not stupid. You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not stupid, either! I’m literally you, but older. And what I know is that you’re still a kid who doesn’t need me to dump this on you!”

“I’m not going to remember it anyway, right? You obviously needed help so bad that you pulled me through time to talk to you! Please, just tell me what’s wrong!”

“Or what? Tell you what’s wrong or what? Stars, I’ve always been like this, huh? So desperate to be needed? To help at my own expense?”

“What are you talking about? I want to help you because I’m nice! And because you’re me! I love you, Steven! I love me! I want us to be happy.”

“You just want a ‘Happily Ever After,’ don’t you?” Steven whispered.

“Yes! Who doesn’t?”

Steven sat on the ground and patted the spot next to him. Classic Steven sat, staring at him.

“I don’t know if ‘Happily Ever Afters’ exist,” he said, “but I’m pretty sure they don’t exist for you and I.”

Classic grabbed Steven’s hands in both of his, stubby fingers clasping hard, “I know things aren’t as simple as they are in stories, but your future is what you make of it. Steven, whatever is happening to us, the first step to happiness is just talking through it. Even if that’s just to yourself at first. Maybe that’s why you need me here.”

“I don’t know…”

“What about the gems? What about Connie? Dad? Can’t you talk to any of them?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated? More complicated than how Pearl and dad felt towards each other over mom? Remember that big trip to Empire City, where you convinced them to talk to each other, and things got so much better after that? Wouldn’t it be the same as that?”

“No, it’s different! And that! That right there is a prime example of why I’m so messed up! You’ve been having to play therapist to a bunch of immortal space rocks your whole life! You shouldn’t have even been placed in that position! You were just a kid! What if they hadn’t made up? You would have just blamed yourself and internalized it, like we always do.”

“But people can always make up. There’s always hope,” Classic mumbled.

“Not always.”

A heavy silence hung in the air, and Classic Steven shook his head, deciding to move on.

“So,” the little Steven tapped his chin, “it’s a different kind of complicated?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Are you separated from the gems? Is someone trying to kill you again?”

“No,” he chuckled, “somehow I miss when people were trying to kill me. It was a nice distraction.”

“A nice distraction from what?”

“It was a distraction from the fact that I don’t have a purpose outside of helping people! That everyone told me it was my destiny to fix things, and then my destiny was finished when I was 16, and everyone else gets to move on while I’m just stuck!”

Steven realized he’d been shouting when he looked down and saw Classic backing away from him, his arms tensed in the pose that readied him for his shield.

“I’m sorry,” said Steven in a softer tone, “It’s more than that, though. My- our- powers are linked to our emotions. And that means if I let myself feel anything extreme like fear or anger, I get dangerous. Mom,” he swallowed, “mom wasn’t always a healer. She had destructive powers. She did some horrible things, worse than you know. And I have them, too. Nothing good comes of me sharing my feelings. People only get hurt. That’s why I can’t- I can’t…” he trailed off, sinking down and putting his face in his hands.

He flinched as he felt little Steven’s arms wrap around him from behind. It was a familiar pose- the same he’d taken hugging Pearl as she cried about Rose so long ago.

“You can’t just make yourself not feel,” the boy said, “if you keep your feelings in they’ll consume you. Maybe that’s what your powers are doing. They’re just your feelings trying to express themselves.”

“Heh,” Steven rubbed his eyes, “maybe you’re right. Too bad I’ve burned my bridges. I’ve been avoiding Connie for over a month, because I knew she’d make me talk about it, and I didn’t want to lose control around her. I kept telling her I was too busy to hang out, and I warp away if I see her coming to the house. And the gems? There’s no way they’d want to talk to me. After what Cactus Steven repeated.”

“Cactus who? Just how many Stevens do you talk to?”

“Oh,” Steven’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, “long story.”

“Listen, I know they love you. No matter what. They always will, even if you say hurtful things. If you talk to them, I know they’ll listen.”

“Destructive powers, remember? I can’t.”

“Haven’t we always had a hard time controlling new powers? Maybe you just need practice. Just talk to me. I won’t remember, and you can’t hurt me since I’m not physically here, right?”

Steven sighed, “Fine.”

With that, the people around them disappeared, and the room was flooded in light, revealing them to be sitting on Steven’s couch in the beach house.

“Hey!” remarked Classic, “I love the remodel- even with the huge hole boarded up in the front. It’s definitely an improvement from the creepy eternal darkness we were just in!”

“I guess that’s true,” agreed Steven, not mentioning how stifling he’d found the house lately.

Hugging his knees, Steven was able to tell himself of the nightmares that wrenched him awake about White removing his gem, and how he still flinched if anyone brushed against it. He told him about the pressure of overthrowing a space dictatorship and making new laws and rules that were fair and safe for everyone in the galaxy. He told him about Spinel, who tried to kill him just for revenge, and how he still felt guilty being unable to genuinely befriend her despite that. He told him how years of being compared to his mother made something break inside him, and every time he learned some new awful thing about her it was like a knife twisting in his stomach. It felt like they were awful things that he was responsible for, on an ever-growing list of things he could never fully make right. He told him about the last time he’d tried to fuse with Connie that they couldn’t, and he felt like if he reached out to her now he’d only hold her back. He told him of everyone moving on while he was left behind, his spirit used up in creating the era that allowed for their happiness. He felt resentful of their happiness, and entitled to be a part of it, even though he did not think that was possible or justified.

Steven had spent so long being silent, that the words came out like a flood, tumbling over each other, rambling, and rushed. He stopped, not because he had said all he felt, but because he was exhausted, and because he worried over how Classic was taking it all in.

“Wow,” said Classic Steven, staring up at him with starry eyes.

“What? Amazed at what a screw-up I am?”

“No, I’m amazed at you! You saved the whole galaxy! And the earth! And you have all these awesome powers! And you saved the uncorrupted gems and started a whole school for them! You’re awesome, Steven! Of course you’d have some difficult baggage going through all that, but look at all you’ve survived!”

Steven laughed, feeling his face flush, “Yeah, well, I guess I peaked at 16. How can I top all that?”

“Why do you have to ‘top’ anything? Maybe you just need to reconnect with what you love. What do you want to do now?”

“Ugh, not this question again! I’ve had enough lectures about my future from Amethyst.”

“Amethyst is lecturing you about having direction in life?”

“Yeah, who would’ve thought, right?”

“Well,” said Classic, “if I wasn’t so busy with gem stuff, I’d want to be a full-time musician and TubeTuber! Have you made any more unboxing videos? Or vlogs? Or recorded any new songs?”

“No,” said Steven quietly, “I haven’t done anything like that in a long time. I guess longer than I’d realized.”

“Well, there’s no time like the present!”

“An ironic statement, coming from someone in my past.”

“Hmm, yes,” Classic pursed his lips, “I see in the future we know what ‘ironic’ means.”

Steven laughed, “It was good seeing you, but I’m going to work hard to make sure you don’t have to come back. I know psychic time travel must be taxing on your gem. We won’t have any more making ourselves sick over trying to be useful to people.”

Classic grabbed Steven in a final hug, squeezing him tight around his waist, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, little guy. You’ve got some rough things ahead, but I believe in you.”

Steven’s consciousness faded back into his room. He could feel the soft down of his comforter, and his firm mattress beneath him. There was a sharp barb in his side from yet another cactus spine he’d missed. Dried tear streaks made the skin around his eyes feel stiff and crusted over. Late morning sunlight warmed his body.

Steven crawled out of bed, hobbled downstairs, and saw a box of donuts sitting on the counter with a little note attached:

“I got you some donuts, but you were still asleep so I ate most of them. You can pretend it’s because I was looking after you sugar intake. Sorry, not sorry. Love you, dude. -Amethyst.”

A smile cracked over Steven’s tired face. He really did need to sit down and talk to Amethyst, but he wasn’t ready to quite yet.

Instead, he got cleaned up, went back upstairs with a donut, and dusted off his old video camera.

After taking a few minutes to set up his tripod and make sure the camera was recording, he sat on the bed, looked into the lens, and took a deep breath before he started speaking.

“Have you ever wondered what your past self would think of you today? Lately, I’ve been thinking he would be disappointed in me, but I have it from good sources that’s not true. I’ve realized lately that I’ve been in a lot of traumatic situations that have stuck with me. I’m done acting like everything is fine, because it’s not, but I’m ready to work on it. I’m not sure if I’m going to make this video public, but I’ll start off just with sending it to the people who I know have always had my back. You know who you are. Thanks for always being there for me, even when I wasn’t receptive to your help,” he gave his best smile, which was weak but genuine, and took a bite of his donut, “Thanks for the donuts. Thanks for being my Jam Bud. Thanks for trying your best to be parental figures for me when you didn’t even know what a parent was. And dad, thanks for teaching me to play music. I honestly don’t know how I would still be here without it. I’m sorry that I haven’t been myself lately. The truth is, I’m still trying to find out who that is, but I’d be really grateful to have you with me there through the process. I love you guys.”

He stopped the recording, grabbed his notepad, and started writing lyrics for his first song in months.

“It’s going to be ok, Steven,” he whispered, and willed himself, in that small moment, to believe it.

Chapter Text

The Dondai was in the shop, and Steven sat at the base of the warp pad, fidgeting with the old car keys. None of the gems understood why the car was his preferred mode of transport.

Pearl argued the warps were superior in that they were environmentally clean, but Steven could drive his entire life and still not do the damage of one kindergarten. The amount of the environment he restored with his spit seemed to balance out the emissions from driving.

Peridot said the warps were objectively better because they got you where you needed to go instantaneously. Steven wondered why everyone equated an instant transition with the best one. There warp had no tape deck, where Steven could insert the music that he wanted to bathe his tired spirit in before the next task on his agenda. There was no recognition of the world in between destinations- no scenic earth beauty marking the progress made and the distance traveled. There was no purr of an old engine in response to his touch. There was no dark stain from the strawberry milkshake that was pushed out of the cup holder when Connie tried to grab him in a kiss, and they laughed until they cried using the flimsy napkins in his glovebox to placate the spreading pink mess. The gear shift was still a little sticky, and he hadn’t cleaned it despite keeping the rest of the vehicle pristine.

Steven was torn out of his reflections on the milkshake night by a wet nose pushing his hand.

“Oh. Hey, Lion,” he said.

The oversized cat whacked the keys away from him.

“I don’t know why I’m moping so much, either.” Steven sighed, “Any chance you’d take me to Little Homeworld?”

Lion emitted a low grumble and sidled next to Steven, looking back at him as an invitation to ride.

Steven hopped onto Lion’s back, sinking his hands in the cotton candy mane. The thrumming purr underneath him was familiar and grounding. Lion bounded out of the house. The cold air whipped through Steven’s hair and bit at his cheeks, reminding him that he was alive. Lion ran across the calm ocean just as easily as he had the sand, his massive paws making only the smallest ripples on the surface. The moon hung low and bright in the sky, making the sea glisten.

Steven remembered when all of this used to be so wonderful to him that it made him shout into the wind with exhilaration. He used to dream of the next magical hint to his past this strange creature might show him. He used to press his ear to Lion, late at night when it was dead quiet, and wonder how his heartbeat could be so slow and soft.

Of course, now Steven knew more about Lion’s biology than when he was a child. He’d condemned a human to the same fate, just by crying- by having the normal human reaction to the circumstances.

Was there any chance his mother did this to Lion accidentally as well? Had any thought crossed her mind regarding how it would feel for him to see his entire pack die of old age, and to live an impossibly long time afterwards? Did Lion resent being bound to Steven forever? He knew he would never receive answers to these questions, and he no longer wanted them.

Steven dismounted Lion when they reached Little Homeworld, and he muttered his thanks without making eye contact before turning away.

If the Dondai wasn’t fixed soon, Steven would just walk where he needed to go.