Chapter Text
“You‘re certain, Lisa?” Archimicarus says, ever-mysterious vision piercing deeply into hers. His eyes churn with a constant deep sadness and kindness.
“I am, as certain as magic is magic,” she declares. The dewy scent of burning mulch is billowing at their feet like clouds of cumulus state. The ancient cavern is crumbling around them. There is dust in the air. The bond between the destiny-bound hums with magic. “I will become a familiar as soon as the spell completes. Perhaps your familiar, old friend, if you’ll allow it.”
He shakes his head sadly with a grim chuckle. The tawny hair that used to be a crest of feathers, soft under her touch in either form, blows about his crown in the wind. “I cannot say I do not understand,” he says, “For long ago I too, wished to become human. You aided me in pursuit of my curses, even when you did not agree. How could I deny you the same, my dear partner?”
Though Lisa has known all along her former spirit companion’s good character, the endless ache in her soul is eased to hear him say it aloud to her face. She tastes ancient petrichor on the wind. A memory of youthful courage burns within her heart. “Thank you Archimicarus, for understanding,” she says. “This is who I am. I didn’t know you’d understand, but I had hoped you’d understand. I wanted you to understand. I wanted to understand how - understood me - augh....”
Connie Maheswaran sat on a pile of unfolded laundry on her bed, one foot tucked under her, the other braced gently against the bunk’s railing. Her laptop rocked against her knee and comforter as she tapped away on the keyboard. Her phone slept on the pillow.
COLLEGE ESSAY WRITING said this hour in the calendar, yellow for college prep, and Connie had used her yellow blocks for college essay writing! Except, the “essays” only called for about 200 words apiece, and she used the same story with a slightly modified introduction for all but one of them, and pretty soon Connie had run out of college essays to write before running out of her carefully-denominated essay writing slots. Instead of swapping out the schedule gap for something useful, Connie stole time for herself. She’d just reread Destiny’s End for the first time in over a year, because it was the only non-textbook she could make herself focus on, and now here she was turning back to something she thought she’d left behind in middle school.
“Who cares?” Connie said. “I’m never posting this anywhere. It’s not like it’s original. Does it even matter if it’s bad?”
Lion yawned from the floor, which in its entirety was only slightly wider than his curled-up body.
“I agree, Lion.” Connie’s foot was starting to go numb, so she switched sides. “There’s just this idea I couldn’t stop thinking about back when the book came out. You remember how mad I was about Archimicarus’s character arc.”
A sock had come dislodged from the laundry pile when she moved, and Connie watched it slip through the slats and drop onto Lion’s bright pink head. The animal, napping with his mouth in the carpet beneath Connie’s bed, didn’t stir.
”Thanks for listening even though you’re a cat and you don’t read,” Connie said. At that, Lion did offer response of a sort, blowing air from his nostrils loudly enough that Connie had to imagine he meant it. She grinned and returned to her story.
“Thank you, Archimicarus. You always have understood me, even these days when I don’t understand myself...”
Connie’s phone buzzed.
Steven: Still on tonight?
Steven: 8)
Connie startled another sock off her pile, calendar app open before she remembered she could have looked at the laptop screen. COLLEGE ESSAY WRITING had tagged out for the hot pink of HOT DOGS WITH STEVEN, and she and Lion were seven minutes late.
“Sorry, Steven! I spaced out and didn’t set a timer,” she said as soon as Steven picked up. “We’ll be there right away.”
“It’s fine,” Steven said, with obvious relief even through the phone. Connie winced. “See you when you get here!”
“Lion, up,” Connie said, climbing down from her bed. Lion grumbled, but rolled out of the way when she poked his side with a foot, giving Connie access to tiptoe around the floor and collect her things. He stretched. Lion gathered himself to stand as Connie put on pants and dug for a pair of shoes, which of course Lion had slept on. Lion pulled his feet delicately out of the way as she extracted each, bumping his face against Connie’s ducked head while she fumbled with the laces. She brushed pointlessly at the layer of pink fur clinging to her sneakers.
“Yes, it’s time to visit Steven,” Connie said, stuffing keys and wallet in her pockets and tying back her hair. She scratched at Lion’s cheek, then pushed his head away from hers. “I’m excited too. We’re late, let me tie my shoes, Lion.”
Minutes later they were skidding to a stop outside a silver trailer with a red-and-white awning, flanked by picnic tables and a plywood sign reading HOT DOGS. On one half-stripped bench, Connie’s magic boyfriend Steven Universe waited, swinging an onion ring from his finger and swiping his phone. There was a black canvas bag on his other side.
“You’re never late for a study break,” said Steven when Connie claimed the opposite bench. He scratched at Lion’s ears when the familiar nudged him in greeting. “Hi, buddy. Are you feeling okay, Connie?”
Connie sighed. “Yes, yeah, I got all caught up writing something.”
“College essays, right?”
Connie had always filled out calendars herself, but some days it still felt like Steven had a better grasp of her study grid than she did. “Yeah,” Connie said. “I‘m basically done, though. They don’t take as long as I expected. It’s like a glorified author-bio-slash-oneshot.”
Steven smiled. “I can’t believe you’re really going off to college. You’re like, the main character in a classic coming-of-age movie.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Connie said. “So, hot dogs?”
“Oh yeah!” Steven unslouched. He put his phone away and led her to the side of the hot dogs trailer. “Dad recommended this place, so I said I’d check it out on the way up. I thought it might be fun to experience together,” he explained while they approached the counter.
“It’s definitely an experience,” Connie said with good humor. One of the other tables in the grassy lot was occupied by a parent and three children, spilling bright stripes of condiment across paper-boated hot dogs and chips. A napkin blew off of their table and, shortly, up and over a wire fence into the adjoining backyard.
A short-haired kid who looked a little older than either of them took their order and Steven’s cash from within a column of onion-scented heat, complimenting Connie’s blatantly unbrushed ponytail. They said they’d call out when it was ready.
“I got you something in Empire City,” Steven said. He dug in his jacket pocket.
“Aww, Steven,” Connie said, tugging his onion rings to her side of the table. “That’s so sweet. What is it?”
Grinning, Steven presented a closed fist, and when Connie reached out with both hands to take it, dropped a small but weighty object into her cupped palms. He was beaming at her with that uniquely ingenuous joy that made you want to believe in Steven. Connie’s grip closed on smooth edges and she lifted the thing for a better look. Attached to a thick keyring, a solid metal cast of Dogcopter hung by a chain stuck to his propeller. It rotated slowly as Connie dangled the keychain from a finger, smiling.
“Mister Copter. What a surprise to see you again. Thanks, Steven,” Connie said, taking Steven’s hand back in hers. “I love it.”
“I saw and thought of you right away, so I had to get it,” Steven said. “Did you ever see Dogcopter 6?”
“Without you?” Connie teased. “Of course not.”
Steven flushed, and squeezed her fingers between his, and Connie allowed herself the slightly giddy satisfaction of having caused it.
“Remember how Peridot pirated Dogcopter 5 so you could watch it on Homeworld?” Connie said. She’d watched it on Steven’s couch, reacting together over text. They’d accounted for the time delay by pressing play ten seconds apart. It had worked, more or less.
“Remember when we saw Dogcopter 3 in theaters?” he said. “And they even let Lion in?” Lion, napping in the grass half-under the table, nosed dozily at Steven’s shoe.
“Of course,” Connie said. “Same day he showed us the batcave. And your mom’s sword. I’d never forget that.”
“Yeah. That was my first time at the movies, too. I got a headache from the glasses after. Wild times, huh?” Steven had his other hand in Lion’s mane. “I thought being around the Gems got us in a lot of trouble growing up, but you had your moments too. Huh, Lion?”
Lion sneezed. Connie and Steven laughed.
“You did your best, bud,” Connie said. She bumped her shoe against Lion’s toes in lieu of pets. The big cat tucked his paw out of the way. “Thanks for looking out.”
“Oh,” Steven said, lighting up. “Before I forget.” He handed over the bag that had been sitting next to him on the bench. Connie peered in. Only a pile of folded-up fabric was visible. “Can you give this to Pearl next time you’re in Beach City?” Steven said. “Only if you happen to be in the neighborhood. I just don’t know when I’m going back.”
Connie didn’t point out she had had no reason to visit Beach City since he’d hit the road. That he‘d asked her for a favor so casually was progress, and she didn’t want to shut that down. Steven being real with her again was worth a quick errand, and she was free for another hour. She’d finished the essays early, after all.
“Sure!” she said. “I’ll drop it off later.”
The kid at the counter called out their order.
Pearl: [Auto-Response]
Hello, Friend,
I am on sabbatical for nine weeks. Let’s talk then!
Thank you and have a nice day,
Pearl.
“You’re kidding me,” Connie said to her phone. “Sabbatical?” Little Homeschool had only been open, what, a year? Two?
Peridot: SOMETHING FROM STEVEN? FOR PEARL? YEAH NO ONE KNOWS WHERE SHE IS
Peridot: AMETHYST SAYS SHE’LL TAKE IT
Lion ditched her the moment they got home, so Connie took Dad’s car to Little Homeschool. He and Mom had been carpooling lately with the longer hours, and she was only technically supposed to drive in an urgent situation, but Connie basically drove whenever Lion wasn’t around. It wouldn’t be an issue as long as she drove safely and made sure to refill the gas, and lately they were asking her to run more errands than Lion was ever around for. Little Homeworld stood just outside Beach City, so in fifteen minutes’ time she was turning into the lot and retrieving Dad’s key from the ignition.
Connie: Where are you?
Amethyst: hanging flyers! come on up!
She spotted her fellow Crystal Gems by the Little Homeschool billboard. The Heaven and Earth Beetles, as always, were out on a stroll. Bismuth and Amethyst stood comparing finger-tools before the backdrop of local notices. They’d each shapeshifted a protractor, and Amethyst was checking the marks on hers against Bismuth’s while the taller gem explained something.
“Afternoon, Connie!” Garnet greeted her.
“Good afternoon, Garnet!” Connie sidestepped the beetles and accepted Garnet’s handshake in greeting. “Long time no see.”
“Hi,” Bismuth said. “How’s school?”
“Connie! Where’ve you been?” said Amethyst.
“Hey, guys,” Connie said. “Steven wanted me to pass this along, so I thought I’d stop by.” She gave Amethyst the bag.
“Riiight! Peridot said you were bringing something of Steven’s. You just missed her. So what is it?”
“Steven said it’s for Pearl, but I hear she’s on sabbatical.”
“Oh, word. We’ll make sure it gets to her.”
“Thank you,” said Garnet.
“So how’ve you been?” Amethyst asked her.
“I’m good, the usual,” Connie said. She gestured in the air. “School on top of school on top of college prep. It’s fine, I just don’t have free time, like, ever.”
“Bummer.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Hey, while you’re here, check this out.” Bismuth handed Connie one of the flyers.
“‘First Annual Beach City Tag-Team Fighting Tournament’?” Connie read aloud, scanning the page. There was a very nice, if abstract, illustration of a Ruby and an Amethyst wrestling to tie the text together.
”Originally ‘First Annual Beach City Tag-Team Hand-to-Hand Combat Tournament’,” said Amethyst. “Combat Club is putting it on. There was a huge response, so they’re changing up the events to add some variety.”
“Amethyst and I designed the poster,” Bismuth said. “Pretty neat, right?”
“The Ruby was me. I’m in Blue P’s figure meep morp class,” Amethyst said.
“Very neat. But this is a team competition,” Connie pointed out. “Steven’s taking a break from gem stuff.”
“Who says you have to go with Steven?” Amethyst said. “I’d sign up together, but me and Garnet are already on a team.” Garnet flashed a peace sign. “We’re also the newspaper club,” she said.
“News Media Club, officially,” said Bismuth. “Peridot’s building a website.”
“So? What do you think?” Amethyst asked her. “I know you have the moves.”
“Sure, I have moves, but on my own I’m not exactly a gem,” Connie pointed out. “This looks pretty hands-on.”
“Bring a sword! You learned from the best, you’d kick ass. Every gem’s got a weapon built-in anyway.”
“Almost every gem,” said Garnet.
“Let her think about it,” Bismuth said. “No pressure, Connie. Sounds like there’s a lot on your plate already.”
“Yeah,” said Connie. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
“We’d love to have you,” said Garnet.