Work Text:
101 Earth cycles. Trapped. For so long on a dirtball of a planet.
No warp pads, no way to repair the ship……
Even his prized turntable was broken.
Galaxite was desperate.
So he had to keep going.
Keeping himself distracted from everything.
Galaxite didn’t know what to expect when he saw Paraiba Tourmaline holding the gems of his troop in his arms after being defeated by those pebbles. He looked, well, defeated with scratches and burns all over his body.
“Those rebels! Thinking that they would be able to break my spirit with their ‘instruments’...“Paraiba kept rambling on and on as he sat down right beside Galaxite, still fixing their spaceship. Maybe he was a little too close. (Not that Galaxite was complaining.)
Although Paraiba was a high class Tourmaline, Galaxite found out that he was quite insightful. What was more, he barely bragged about his deeds, which amazed Galaxite. Most Tourmalines tended to be quite boastful, arrogant, and blatantly disrespectful of other gems, which made Galaxite have a distaste for those lines of gems. (He was definitely not reminded of himself. Absolute not.)
“Galaxite.” Galaxite was startled by that voice, and he looked directly at Paraiba.
“I have a proposal.” Paraiba’s voice was a lot more serious than usual, so he stopped rearranging those wires and sat down.
“My troops and I were defeated by those rebels without fusing.” Galaxite did not like where the conversation was headed. Paraiba paused, as if he was also feeling the same. But he kept on explaining.
“Back in the Gem War, I encountered rebels who combined their strengths and powers to become a fusion of different types of gems. And, I must admit, as much as they were a disgrace, those rebels were so strong when they worked together! They somehow managed to poof us soldiers with a mere poke! One sent me flying off with a hammer! So many times that my troops got accustomed to backing off when we heard that laugh! She managed to scare the living daylights out of me!… So.” Another pause.
One thing that Paraiba was good at was his spiels which were not simple bragging. Instead, they were quite entertaining, as he dramatically retold stories from all of his past wars. Galaxite was trying to distract himself from the inevitable question he knew was coming, so he took a breath.
“Galaxite. Let’s fuse to defeat those rebels.” Oh stars. That blatantly?
“WHAT.” Paraiba, of all gems. So loyal to Homeworld. Interested in meddling with cross gem fusion? He could not help but enter a state of confusion.
“You have a mastery over gravity. I can manipulate metal. At the same time, you are probably not as well acquaintanced with strategic thinking as I am. We can combine those powers to…” Even though he was stating the truth about strategic thinking, Galaxite still felt offended.
“Well firstly, I CAN make up strategies! It is just that I was never given a chance to make them! Secondly, we are going to be just as bad as those rebels if we…”
Paraiba placed a finger over where Galaxite would have a mouth if he had one.
(He was not obsolete than those Peridots, even if both of them did not hold up to Homeworld’s strict standards in gem appearances.)
After his stranding, Galaxite noticed that his patterns of thought led him more and more into a path of self doubt, even in times where logic should be the prime concern.
“Hush. Desperate times call for desperate measures. As long as they do not know what we did, it will be fine. Besides, capturing those rebels is the first priority, as you said before.”
Paraiba had a point, though. If they could capture and harvest the gems of that Zincite and Azurmalachite, it would be enough to power their ship and head back.
To this day, Galaxite wonders if he knew what was coming next.
“Yes.” He managed a squeak of a voice, a mere shadow of his usual booming voice.
Paraiba slowly takes Galaxite’s hand. Although he knew how capable Paraiba was in combat, it always surprised him how tiny Paraiba’s hand was in comparison to Galaxite’s.
“Rebels first went into synchronization by dancing. Shall we?” He starts to twirl in place. Honestly, it was… adorable. To see someone like him be so engaged in things other than combat.
So Galaxite decided to answer it. By raising his long arms into the air and catching Paraiba mid turn.
“Got you.” Galaxite could hear a ghost of a smile in his voice, which surprised him too.
“Your long arms were not just for show, hm?” Paraiba was teasing him.
“Technically, a Galaxite’s long appendages are often used for repairing, creating, typing, piloting…”
In response, Paraiba made a sound. Wait, was that giggling?
The sound was contagious, and Galaxite realized that he was laughing too. Their laughter meshed together quite well, and Galaxite found that he wanted to hear Paraiba’s giggles all the time.
He noticed that Paraiba’s gem emitted a neon green glow.
He also realizes that Paraiba’s outfit had a blue tint to it.
Galaxite was convinced he was seeing things now after being stuck here for so long.
Then, why does it feel so pleasant?
The light, so warm, started to engulf the both of them until…
When they regained vision, they realized that the world felt so clear. Deeped with so much more vibrancy that they definitely did not expect such a primitive planet. They did it. It felt so utterly surreal. Feeling each other inside. And yet, this was neither of them. Why did it feel so quiet? It felt as if there were literally no one in the universe other than them. (The fusion knew they should be feeling guilty. Why were they feeling so warm after what happened to his? His? Troop? Ignoring Kimberlite’s order? Becoming an abomination at one’s will?)
They understood their purpose of existing: to defeat Zincite and Azurmalachite. So they tried to walk down to the city from where they were.
They really tried.
They failed miserably at their purpose when they made the huge mistake of looking up to the sky. The constellations in the sky were nothing like that of Homeworld or the colony. And yet, it was… beautiful. (Beauty was never a concept for Paraiba. Always forced to see the ugliness of everyone as they screamed vulgar war cries and begged for mercy… No. Not now.) They could see Homeworld, shining down upon them and yet, it felt so far away.
“Did we…” A voice neither of them were familiar with spoke. It sounded intrigued. Amused, even.
“Yes.” Cautiously, the new being raised their hand into the air. So big and delicate at the same time. Just like them. Capeable yet fragile, as much as they hated to admit it, but they, the fusion, knew better.
The fusion casually raised up the human-made hunk of metal, a toaster, into the air. (Where did Galaxite get that from? …Ah. The dumpster. Where those organics dispose of their worthless items that they use in day to day life. So insufficient.) The toaster flew so high up, and then they managed to bend the metal into a small ball of wires, and as it came down with intense speed, they made it burst into a thousand tiny flecks. (Great. Now they were just as insufficient as those organics. Says the one who decided that he should throw random object into the air to prove how strong they are.)
They laughed. Despite how murky the situation was, they were having fun. While knowing how they were failing their troops. Kimberlite. The colony. Homeworld. (Why does it feel so…good?)
Maybe defeating those rebels can wait. Maybe they should just stay here and look up at the stars for now. And when they were ready, they could obliterate those gems and go back. (That was what they wanted back, right? Their original purposes? …Not again. Not now.)
Here they were, in the center of the universe. That was the only thing that mattered now.
“Zuke?”
“Yeah May?”
“I think something good happened right now.”
“Why?”
“It’s a hunch.”
“Thanks, made me feel better. …Now, where were we again?”
“The chorus!”
“Okay, okay.”