Chapter Text
The Reverie, Penacony (Dreamscape)
The Reverie was never quiet.
That was the first thing Aventurine thought when he woke up from the dreampool into the Dreamscape, looking around with his thrice-coloured eyes. No clerks, no tourists, not even the colourful origami birds that were usually perched on some of the lampposts. It was just so quiet.
The only sounds he could hear were the quiet tinkling of his jewellery as his footsteps echoed across the silent landscape. Left and right he checked; still no one in sight. It was silent in an eerie and unnerving way — as if something was prepared to pounce on him once he turned his back to it.
Immediately after that thought the Stoneheart set up a Cornerstone Deluxe shield, just in time as a Voidranger: Reaver’s blade met with it. However, he didn’t manage to set it up in time: the shield broke right after the blade came in contact with it, cutting a nasty red X on Aventurine’s left side. The thrice blessed (or was it cursed?) blood of the Gaiathra Triclops’ ‘blessing’ spilled out, a waterfall of red leaking out of the wound.
Well, this is a surprise.
Aventurine was directly opposite the Reaver, having been pushed back by the force of the blow. The X-shaped wound on his side was throbbing, rivulets of red still flowing from it. Seems it cut close to a vital spot, the blond thought, gritting his teeth as he struggled to stand up. He must’ve broken a rib or two, colliding with a railing behind him.
The Reaver’s gaze was cold and calculating as it watched the gambler slowly stand, and at that instance Aventurine knew that if there was one member of the Antimatter Legion here, there would be others as well.
The Reaver took the opportunity to make a stab for the blond’s abdomen, quantum blades gleaming yellow and silver. Aventurine set up another shield; this time it didn’t break, the blade mere inches away from its intended target. He let down a Roulette Shark on his opponent, gold smattering his vision. The Voidranger was sucked back into a quantum portal as the cascade of chips stopped, but an orange beam seared the right sleeve of Aventurine’s coat the moment it disappeared, as well as a Wind Shear arrow that grazed the tip of his shoe.
A Baryon stood on the gambler’s left; to the right was the Stormbringer. The latter charged at the blond, rearing its front legs up — sharp grey tips glinted like spears as they nearly skewered its intended target. The same couldn’t be said for the Avgin’s coat; part of it had been stabbed through by the Trampler and now the back of the peacock-coloured coat was dangling with uneven ends.
As Aventurine ducked to the side to dodge a Wind Shear arrow (the swift wind had cut a shallow line of red across the back of his palm, ouch) the Baryon fired another high heat beam, leaving a black scorch mark on the marble floor where Aventurine would have been shot through had he not rolled to the side again.
Beads of sweat trailed down the blond’s face. The heat was absolutely unbearable, and the fact that Aventurine wore such heavy and thick clothing made him want to slap himself. After all, who in their right mind would go sauntering out on a summer night wearing layers-thick clothes? (He did so anyway, and now he regretted it.)
The blond let down a Roulette Shark on the Baryon, watching it get sucked back into the same quantum portal like its dear Reaver friend 10 minutes ago. Aventurine hesitated for a moment to catch his breath. The summer heat was getting to him; a headache had started to bloom and his vision was starting to turn a bit fuzzy.
Aeons, I really shouldn’t have gone out today.
His ribs still throbbed as much as his side wound, the bleeding had ceased but dried blood had crusted around the gashes made in his skin. His legs felt light, as if he’d just gotten drunk at Dreamjolt Holstery and was sluggishly walking back to his apartment.
Limping, Aventurine made his way to the entrance to the Golden Hour — already he could hear the sweet voice of Robin as her songs were being blared over the PA. His mind was quiet; the only sound he could hear, hollowly repeating over and over again, was the nearly silent drip, drip, drip of his blood leaving a dark red imprint on the velvet carpet as he lugged his entire body to the entrance.
The only thing he could hear when he walked into the Golden Hour was 1) Robin’s songs being blasted over the PA, 2) melodious (but at this point of time it really just rang loudly in his ears) phonograph music, 3) the laughter and chatter of the people walking along the streets of the Dreamscape, and — finally — silence as the whispers of people who saw his bedraggled state stopped and gasped (some loudly, some quietly) as the blond walked past them.
It was so goddamn loud, and yet it seemed so quiet at the same time. His surroundings were quiet; only the same melodious phonograph music was playing, and he could hear pattered and quick footsteps as adults and children quickly walked away. His vision was starting to fade from grey to black at the edges — his head throbbed more than ever, spikes of pain shooting through his skull like lightning bolts.
The neon lightings of the shops lined across the Dreamscape blinded him like supernovas bursting. Strangely, when he walked near the back alleys, the lamps there were less eye-piercing and brought a certain warmth to them…just like his sister.
Kakavasha!
Aventurine shook his head, sweat-slicked blonde locks swatting his face. His legs felt like they were going to break at any moment, and when he touched the wound on his hip he felt a long, thin gaping hole emitting the smell of blood. He brought his hand up to his face, inspecting the mini cut on his hand. The blood had already dried, and it hurts less than before. His ribs still ached and creaked as he trudged towards his house, the residence of the one person he knew and trusted with his life.
He was crossing the street when with a woosh! and splat! he was on fire.
The Wind Shear arrow was lodged into the pavement, sharp knife-like wind still swirling around the tip. Except, the tip (scratch that, the whole mothefucking arrow) was drenched in blood.
Gloriously ruby-red blood.
Aventurine didn’t have to look down to see the gaping hole slashed across his abdomen, he could smell it: the stench of blood wafting through the air, the feeling of the sudden explosion of pain all over his too-human, too-fragile body. The gambler staggered to one side, leaning onto a pillar for support. Another burst of pain blossomed along that side.
Nope, never mind. I am so fucked.
He swivelled his head back to look at the Stormbringer through the haziness of his eyes, but he only saw an extremely large quantum portal sucking the green and grey creature back, and a familiar white-haired Stoneheart. With that said, Topaz had an equally angry expression on her face as she stormed over to her boss. “Damnit Aventurine, do you know how-”
She halted as she took in the blond’s messy and hunched back form, sweat dripping down his chin, leaning against the marble pillar — and her expression changed entirely as he shifted and she managed to catch a glimpse of his worst wound.
“Aventurine…”
“Right on time, Topaz,” Aventurine grinned, turning to face her. Topaz’s face blanched as she saw the amount of blood leaking from the shot the Wind Shear arrow had managed to land on him. “What the fuck, Aventurine?” she whispered in horror, eyes darting between the blond’s pale face and the wound on his stomach. “What the hell happened?” she demanded, jabbing an accusing finger at him.
“Nah, just some shit that went down- Hey!” Aventurine flinched as he attempted to shrug away the pain and the white-haired Stonehearts’s concern. Topaz had gripped onto his shoulder hard — hard enough to make him flinch under the extra pain applied to his body.
“Oh, you’re not going anywhere.” Topaz’s voice was laced with determination. She loosened her grip on his shoulder, but didn’t let go — instead, he was all but bodily dragged up to Dr. Veritas Ratio’s abode. Struggling was useless; he’d only aggravate his injuries more and most possibly pass out or die due to the blood loss. Aventurine watched the snaking trail of blood that leaked in front of him as Topaz dragged him across the marble floor.
Aventurine nearly hit his head against the floor as Topaz suddenly let go of his shoulder; it screamed in relief as it breathed in fresh air. “Wha-“ Aventurine didn’t have time to react before Topaz hauled him up to his feet, taking his right (and thankfully non-injured, save for the cut on his hand) arm, putting it over her shoulders as her left hand circled behind his back to support him.
”One foot in front of the other,” Topaz cautioned as she slowly let him up the stairs. It was only half a floor, yet the pain he felt was probably the worst thing he had ever felt in his life. His ribs creaked, his left side flared as if it had caught on fire, and his mind was as hazy as ever. The black spots dancing in his eyes threatened to knock him out at any moment, shrieking and cackling and cursing (or was that just him hallucinating?). He closed his eyes abruptly, opening them again as he inhaled slowly.
“Come on, Aventurine. Hang in there, just a few more to go.” Topaz’s voice was laced with extreme concern and worry, and Aventurine swore he could hear Numby squeaking from his feet. He opened his eyes again, and there Numby was: by his left foot, squeaking repeatedly in what seemed to be concern as well. The blond gambler let a soft smile slide onto his face at the sight of the Warp Trotter. He looked up again at the five or so more steps until solid ground — God, I hate these fucking stairs.
Aventurine lifted one foot, putting his entire body weight on it as he quickly put the other up as well. His knees were threatening to bend at that very moment, shouting and pleading for this hell to stop. But he continued on anyway, sweat dripping down from his chin. He felt the drip, drip, drip of his blood leaking from his wound again. He heaved a sigh of relief as they made it to the doctor’s front door, glad to be on solid, flat ground again.
Topaz leaned forward to press the golden doorbell, but there was apparently no need for that as the doctor himself abruptly opened his door, his face scrunched up at the disgusting smell of blood on his doorstep — but that expression fell as he took in the sight of the blond gambler being supported by his fellow Stoneheart. Aeons, he’d never seen so much blood leaking from a living person — and how Aventurine had survived he didn’t know.
That damned gambler bet his life again, didn’t he…
Ratio crossed his arms as he looked from Aventurine to Topaz. He was very sure that the former was barely even conscious; his eyes were half-closed and blinking rapidly, and his figure was slumped — a stark contrast to the confident, arrogant man he’d seen barely a week before.
Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead and chin, and his breathing was laboured — short breaths being inhaled and exhaled from his mouth as he flicked his unique Sigonian eyes to meet with Ratio’s gold and amber ones. “Hey, doc,” Aventurine grinned sloppily, his smile lacking its usual confidence.
Ratio arched an eyebrow. "Do you really expect me to return that greeting when you're bleeding out right in front of my house?"
Aventurine's grin widened. "What's wrong with coming to a friend's place for help? After all, I did get shot right below your humble abode, so the most logical choice would be to get to a place where I knew I'd be safe."
Ratio's eyes narrowed. The gambler's response didn't mimick his current state; already his unique eyes were dropping, eyelashes brushing his skin. His figure was getting slacker and slacker, and from the way he leaned heavily on Topaz and her expression (which was growing increasingly worried as the seconds ticked by) he was in need of immediate medical attention.
Topaz sighed, looking up at Veritas. She was so close to crying -- unshed tears were already gathering in her eyes, and Numby floated up to nudge their mistress, letting out a squeal of sadness as it turned its gaze on Ratio. Both Stoneheart and Trotter had the look of desperation in their eyes, begging the doctor to help the gambler.
(Could Trotters experience emotions? Because Numby's gaze bore into the doctor's soul, filled with worry, concern, sadness and urgency all at the same time.)
Ratio sighed, stepping out to take the arm Aventurine had slung over Topaz’s shoulder. That arm fell limp against the Avgin’s body as Ratio hooked his right arm under Aventurine’s legs, his left arm supporting Aventurine’s back, carrying him bridal style. The blond’s eyes fluttered open a bit, like butterflies delicately flapping their wings. “Never in my life did I imagine getting carried by Doctor Veritas Ratio himself,” he laughed breathlessly. His lungs burned and he was struggling to breathe, and the heat in the front of his head wasn’t helping.
Ratio stayed silent as he marched back into his house, Aventurine in his arms. “Tell the IPC that their Aventurine Stoneheart won’t be reporting for work for the next week.”
He could hear Topaz shout a “Wait-!” before the door slammed shut.
~
Aventurine felt like he was being burned alive.
Metaphorically, of course, but his lungs, ribs — they all hurt, and he just wanted it to go away.
So being half-awake while having broken ribs, a large bleeding gash on his stomach and an unbearable heat at the front of his head did not help.
The gambler could feel the soft cushions of the velvet couch as Ratio gently set him down. He could barely see the other man through his half-closed eyes, and coupled with the burning fire in them the doctor was nothing more than a blurry figure. Ratio was saying something, from the way his mouth moved, but he couldn’t comprehend it — it just bounced around hollowly in his head.
He could feel cold wind on his skin as Ratio took off his thick coat (seriously, why had he decided to wear it?) and tossed it somewhere; he felt a freezing sensation glide across the skin of his chest as Ratio peeled open his shirt. Something equally cold and freezing touched the spot right above where his heart was, and his vision focused enough to see Ratio with a stethoscope.
————————
Let go of me!
Woah, settle down, kid!
Restrain him, would you?
He could feel strong arms holding his thin and ragged ones down as his tiny body fidgeted around. He kicked out, connecting with something or someone. More arms held down his legs and he could see his chest coming out and down, matching his ragged breaths.
The man in the white coat took out his stethoscope, placing the cold metal directly above the patch of fabric and skin where his heart was beating rapidly underneath. The man nodded, humming as he turned around.
A needle in his hand, he thrust it into a vein in the boy’s arm.
The boy screamed.
————————
“—turine?”
Huh?
”Aventurine!”
Ra…tio?
Aventurine’s vision focused, and now he feel the ragged breaths coming from himself, and the equally ragged ones coming from Ratio, who was…on top of him?
Aventurine suddenly realised how close he and Ratio were; he could feel the heat of the latter’s breath dance across his neck, trailing down his skin. His arms, he noticed, were also pinned by Ratio’s hand on top of his head. The other hand was being used by Ratio as support so that his body wouldn’t fall on Aventurine’s, and the look in his dawn-like eyes was fearful; concerned.
The blond blinked a few times, his breaths still coming out in short puffs. Finally, the corners of his mouth spread into his signature grin, although it was more strained than usual. “My, doctor. Imagine what would happen if someone walked in on us in this position.”
Ratio scoffed, his breath tickling Aventurine’s skin. “This is your reply after having a panic attack?”
“Relax, Ratio. I was being sarcastic,” Aventurine laughed dryly. Unfortunately, a cough decided to rip itself out of the blond’s lungs, resulting in him coughing violently. A few drops of blood leaked from his mouth, catching the eye of the man who was holding him down.
Ratio sighed in frustration, pushing himself back up. Aventurine could feel the plush velvet bounce back up from the removal of the scholar’s weight. He tilted his head to see Ratio rummaging through a white box. “You’ve broken some of your ribs. May I ever so politely inquire if you hit something with great force?” The doctor asked, turning around with a roll of white gauze, a silver needle and black thread.
Aventurine let out a sarcastic hah. “Blame the Reaver that decided to sneak attack me. Who knew the railings in the Dreamscape were just as painful as reality’s?”
“You should blame yourself for getting into a fight.” Ratio replied monotonously as he started to stitch up the large wound. Turns out, the gash wasn’t as big as Aventurine assumed it was — it covered nearly his entire stomach, but it was only half a centimetre wide. The waterfall of blood that leaked from it was rather concerning, though. He was surprised he hadn’t passed out from the blood loss (which made being conscious much more painful); perhaps his boundless luck had something to do with it.
Aventurine flinched as the sharp point of the needle dug into his skin, accompanied by the black thread. Ratio glanced up at the gambler, his brows furrowing in concern at the pained expression on the blond’s face. Aventurine noticed this and tried to flash a (not so) convincing smile at the doctor. “I’m fine, if that’s what you were gonna ask, Ratio. You can continue.”
Ratio made a mental note to be careful while stitching up the wound. He could hear Aventurine gritting his teeth together, trying not to flinch or wince every time the metal touched and went up and down through his skin — it pained the doctor to see Aventurine suffer so much.
The needle was coated in blood by the time Ratio finished stitching. Aventurine looked like he was going to pass out at any moment; his face looked devoid of colour. Sweat still trickled down his neck and his breaths were still short and shaky. Ratio took the gauze and skillfully wrapped layer after layer of the white cloth around the wound. He felt Aventurine flinch every time his fingers brushed against his skin, which was warm and slicked with sweat.
Ratio looked up again to see Aventurine hugging another pillow on the couch, holding onto it as if it was for dear life. His eyes were closed and he was sweating more than usual, and his forehead had a crease where he was grimacing. The doctor lifted the soft sweat-slicked locks that covered the blond’s forehead as he felt his forehead. He nearly wanted to jerk his hand back; Aeons was he burning up. Ratio sighed in frustration. This damned gambler really needs to take better care of himself.
The doctor picked up Aventurine again, untangling the fluffy pillows from the blond’s grasp, before he set him down gently on his bed. Aventurine’s chest rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm, and the silence in the air was only broken by his shaky breaths and sudden intakes of air.
Ratio made a quick trip to the kitchen, grabbing a cloth which he wet and squeezed dry, and a small pail, half full of water. Aventurine was quite literally thrashing around when he got back to his bedroom; Ratio had to physically hold him down to get him to stop moving. Once Aventurine had calmed down, his quiet shuddering breaths breaking the silence, Ratio placed the damp cloth on Aventurine’s forehead, fingers brushing across his skin as he did so. Aventurine still felt extremely hot; a high fever had to have occurred.
Aventurine’s teeth gritted together slightly before they relaxed — his senses must’ve registered the sudden change in temperature on his forehead. His eyelashes fluttered open delicately like the wings of a butterfly as those thrice-coloured eyes opened and darted around, settling on the man beside him. “Ratio…?” Aventurine croaked out, his voice soft, and slightly hoarse.
Ratio sighed irritably. He crossed his arms and legs, bringing up one accusing finger at the Stoneheart. “Do you have any idea on how to take care of yourself, damned gambler? For Aeons’ sake, getting an illness probably isn’t possible here in the Dreamscape, and yet here you are!”
Aventurine blinked at the doctor’s sudden outburst. It was…certainly not what he was expecting from Ratio. His lips tugged into his signature grin, although it was smaller and seemed more forceful than usual (to Ratio, at least). “C’mon, doc. No one said it wasn’t possible to get sick in the Dreamscape. Although, getting injured and sick at the same time does hurt like hell.” He winced as he tried to shift himself closer to Ratio.
Ratio pushed the smaller man back down, flicking his forehead. “Idiot. Stop squirming around, lest you want to aggravate your already bad enough injury.” He grabbed a book that was resting on the nightstand, flicked through its pages and started reading.
Aventurine chuckled dryly. His vision was really getting darker by the minute. Maybe I’ll take a nap for a bit… he thought groggily, as his eyes finally shuttered closed.
Ratio looked up after a while, seeing Aventurine’s chest rise up and down. He went back to his book, but not without muttering a few more words.
Rest well, Aventurine.