Chapter Text
Aventurine had seen a lot in his lifetime. A lot of pain, anger, grief, and things he’d never tell anyone. He’d watched life break even the strongest people. Each time he couldn’t do anything to help. He couldn’t help his sister, and he truly couldn’t help himself. He’d suffered so much loss, and he’d do anything to bring his sister and family back. But, that’s not the way it’s supposed to go. Eventually, everything would return to the nothingness of Nihility.
Death and loss were nothing new to Aventurine. It all hurts just the same. No one truly gets used to seeing people die, especially when those people are loved ones. It was salt in the wound when it didn’t rain at the funeral, as if the Aeons THEMSELVES didn’t care that he couldn’t save them. Aventurine watched as Ratio wore his bust throughout the entire funeral. When the funeral ended and everyone left, he took off the bust and sat by the graves. He didn’t cry. Aventurine didn’t think either of them had any tears left to cry.
Aventurine didn’t know what to say to comfort Ratio. What could he say? They both failed, and the consequences had been catastrophic. Looking back, he should have said something. Ratio would have probably listened to sugar coated words and empty condolences. Maybe if Aventurine had said something, Ratio wouldn’t have spiraled. He wouldn’t have…done this.
“You’re spacing out again,” Rivera pointed out, frowning at him. “That’s the third time you’ve spaced out. Are you sick?” She leaned closer, eyes narrowing, and she tried to check his temperature.
“I’m fine,” Aventurine huffed, gently pushing her back. “Just…focus on your plants,” he murmured, watching the young girl smile brightly and carefully sift through the dirt. His eyes watched her pat down the soil around the vegetable plant and water it. It was wrong. She’d never pat the soil that firmly or use that much water. Aventurine wanted to say something, but he didn’t.
“Can you water those plants over there?” Rivera asked, voice sweet and kind. She pointed to a row of flowers separated from the others and handed him the watering can. Her hand brushed against his, and it was too cold.
“Sure, duckling,” Aventurine smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He walked toward the flowers, looking down at them. She wouldn’t let anyone near these plants much less water them. Not while they were still in a research phase. He pretended to water them, not having the heart to ruin her research. “I should go check on the Doctor,” he smirked, putting down the watering can. “Good luck with your plans, Rivera.”
Aventurine kept a small journal with all the differences the four students had, all minor and nearly invisible to the naked eye. But, he knew. He had seen the differences, and if he had seen them, then Ratio definitely did. He wrote down another discrepancy and hid the journal in his room. He couldn’t convince Ratio to stop this…not yet. In his own selfish way, he wanted them to be real.
“Hey, Professor, I have a ques—” Avama cut herself off when she saw Aventurine lounging in the chair. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Not at all,” Aventurine grinned before Ratio had the chance to speak. “I’m just paying the lovely Doctor a visit. You are?” He flashed a charming smile at her.
The girl looked unimpressed by Aventurine’s antics. “I’m Avana. I’m one of the students…” She glanced from Aventurine to Ratio. “Is now a bad time?” she asked, fidgeting with the sleeves of her jacket. “I know office hours are over but you did say at the beginning of the school year if we really needed help you’d be available and—”
“What seems to be the problem?” Ratio asked, shooting Aventurine a stern look. He stopped marking the papers in front of him to give Avana his full attention. He raised an eyebrow, expecting an answer.
“Problem? There’s no problem…” Avana smiled, putting her hands in her pockets. Ratio raised an eyebrow and Avana’s smile faltered. “Hypothetically speaking, if there happened to be an incident where these people borrowed a life form oven and made a lot of creatures, what would one do to keep the creatures from…overrunning the dorms?”
Aventurine smiled wistfully as he cradled Ace in his arms. The cake cat meowed and pawed at him, looking up at him with wide eyes. Strangely, the three cake cats had been very standoffish with Aventurine ever since the funeral. He sighed and let the cat go, watching Ace skitter away. He missed cuddling the critters and the warmth that came with it.
His thoughts were broken by the three cake cats Aventurine had gotten from the…incident. They made their way into the room, meowing and chattering as they clambered onto the bed.
Aventurine grunted as one of them settled on his chest. The other two curled up in between Chase and Avana, closer to Avana as she was warmer. Aventurine shifted to make room and get everyone comfortable. Chase sniffled and sneezed into a tissue, coughing up flem and mucus.
“Gross,” Avana groaned, glowering at her brother. “Keep it to yourself.”
Chase shot Avana a weak glare. “Don’t start. You were just puking earlier,” he grumbled, rolling over and resting his head on Aventurine’s arm.
“Come now, you two ducklings,” Aventurine spoke softly, not wanting to be too loud and trigger any headaches. “Stop arguing and rest. The sooner you rest, the sooner you get better.”
He watched Avana write one of her essays for her classes. Aventurine frowned, sighing heavily. Everything was wrong. There was no music or podcast playing to help her concentrate on writing. Chase wasn’t bothering her or bantering with her like he used to do when she was trying to write her essays. Jasper wasn’t as enthusiastic about technology.
Aventurine knew something was wrong, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Nothing would bring them back. He bit the inside of his cheek and finally decided to approach Ratio. Most of the time, Ratio would be in his office or lab doing research. Ratio wassn’t in his office so he was probably in the lab. Looking back, it was strange the doctor suddenly refused to let Aventurine into the lab. The Stoneheart swallowed thickly and walked toward the door that led down to the lab.
The lights were off, and Aventurine should have closed the door and called Ratio. Instead, he took a deep breath and turned on the lights, descending into the research lab. The lab smelled of chemicals and Aventurine poked around. He found many, many pictures of the ducklings and of himself all over the room. He picked one up, smiling wistfully.
However, one caught his eye that stood out. A picture of the graves. Five graves instead of four graves. He frowned. There were four graves. He specifically remembered the four graves at the funeral. Why did this picture show five? Unease settled in his stomach. He started to rummage through the lab, looking for any explanation. A file, a note, a video, anything to help him understand.
His heart dropped as he pulled out a file and opened it. His hands shook and he dropped the file, staggering back. Aventurine bumped into the table, knocking glass vials to the floor. He couldn’t breathe. The world around him spun and he collapsed to the floor. He clawed at his chest. He felt too cold. Why was he so cold?
“You’re not supposed to be down here, Gambler,” Ratio’s cold voice cut through his panic. He looked down at Aventurine, eyes empty and cold. He glanced toward the broken glass and huffed in annoyance. “You’ve made a mess that I have to clean.” His eyes darkened when he saw the file on the floor.
“What the hell is that?” Aventurine spat angrily. “Ratio, what the hell does that file mean?” he growled, glaring at the scholar. He wanted to use his cornerstone…His cornerstone. Where was it? He hadn’t seen it for a long time. He couldn’t feel it anymore. “No…” he whispered, eyes wide.
Rato sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not again,” he mumbled to himself. Again? Aventurine furrowed his brows. What did he mean by again? “You have to stop doing this,” Ratio murmured, kneeling down in front of Aventurine. “I don’t want to keep doing this to you, but you keep trying to look into things that don’t matter.” He reached out to touch Aventurine’s face.
“What are you talking about?” Aventurine growled, slapping Ratio’s hand back. “I’m dead, too? I died trying to protect them, didn’t I?” he started to hyperventilate. “I can’t…I don’t…why would you…” he stammered, struggling to breathe.
“Calm down,” Ratio commanded sternly. “It doesn’t matter,” he said bitterly. “You’re all here now.” His voice softened with a hint of sorrow. “Don’t worry now. It’s going to be okay.” He pulled Aventurine into a hug. Aventurine clinged to Ratio. He didn’t want to, but he desperately needed a hug. “Just calm down.” He pressed a button and Aventurine seemed to go limp.
“Don’t worry, dear gambler,” Ratio murmured softly. “I’ll fix this and everything will be fine.”