Chapter Text
Crying was supposed to be a release. He’d heard that somewhere before, probably one of the psychology seminars he had put on one night in the background while doing paperwork for Little Homeschool. Granted, he didn’t pay attention very well, mind swamped with various other subjects of importance, but he picked up a few things between pages of work. It was a way to release a buildup of emotions, positive or negative, a way to release the tension it may have been unknowingly putting on your body.
Steven called so much bullshit on that. He didn’t feel any better from crying as long as he had been, curled up with his face in Lion’s mane. He doesn’t know how long it’s been, he’d lost track of time relatively quickly after being healed of his…situation. He knew he was being watched, his friends and family surrounding him as he sobbed ungraciously, and he could feel his face burning with embarrassment at his position.
The winds of the later day brushed against his exposed skin, unfortunately not hidden behind the blue blanket covering his form, and he shivered, curling up closer to Lion. The pink mane of his companion always had a way of comforting him, a warmth constantly swirling through the fur, consistent, calm. The warmth seeped through his body, keeping the majority of his body at a comfortable temperature, aside from the bits of exposed parts of his skin. He hasn’t moved very much, he thinks. He can’t really remember, mind muddled with a heaviness he can’t push away.
No one had moved to touch him during his breakdown at first, content to just hover close with their presences, allowing him to use Lion as a big pillow as he wept. Though after a bit, Connie had quietly stepped forward and gently took one of his hands in her own, gentle fingers brushing over his knuckles, and she hadn’t stopped doing it since. His dad had a gentle hand on his back, comforting sweeps going up and down his spine. No one else had touched him, probably not wanting to overcrowd him after his 50-foot diamond powered temper tantrum.
He can’t believe he got himself into this situation, he lost control of himself, laid himself bare to everyone, and they looked scared. Of him. Which, he couldn’t blame them, he’d be scared too, if he was in their position. This was what he had wanted to avoid, and it hurt. He didn’t want to feel like this, raw, completely scrubbed clean of every layer, of every wall he had carefully put up over the years.
He..what, corrupted? He couldn’t handle how bad he became and he corrupted over it? The thought made him shudder, and he pushed it to the back corner of his mind, he can’t think of it right now, not now. There’s too much in his mind already, pushing against every sensitivity he has.
Thankfully, the gentle touches of his human companions helped bits of awareness seep back into his senses, pulling him out of his thoughts. His mind feels foggy with emotion, unfocused, like he can’t get a clear image of what’s happening around him. He realizes, distantly, that he’s sore, an ache in his bones he hadn’t taken note of before making itself known as he attempts to focus in on it. He felt weak, a tremor in his body making itself known as he focused more on his bodily sensations, and he realized that he was exhausted. The crying was definitely making it worse, but he couldn’t really stop. At least the phrase ‘ opening the floodgates ‘ had some accuracy.
He could hear the gems talking quietly amongst themselves, a nervous chatter that pattered gently against him. The Diamonds were quiet though, their large presence barely felt to him, even though he could feel their eyes burning into his back. He knew they were there, a looming energy present in the air he thinks he would’ve been more unsettled about in this state if he didn’t feel so zoned out. The feeling freaked him out a little, his breath catching from how out of control he really felt.
Clearly he wasn’t the only one who picked up on how out of sorts his head was, and he heard Connie’s voice quietly speak up next to his ear, her grip on his hand getting a little firmer, and he moved his head carefully to stare at their intertwined hands, eyelids heavy, his vision foggy with tears still, seeming to be neverending.
“ Steven? Hey… “ she spoke quietly, eyes glittering with relief as his eyes shifted up to hers, though she took note of them being a bit unfocused. “ Do you want to go inside? I’m sure your bed would be more comfortable than being out here, right? “ she asked, a gentle smile never leaving her face. He shrugged absentmindedly, the motion irritating his aching back and he flinched a little at the action, which didn't go unnoticed by Connie or Greg, both of their expressions pinching.
“ I can run in and make sure his room is in…good condition? “ Lapis offers quietly, an awkwardness laced in her tone, wings already summoned. Greg nods at her gently, and she shoots off towards the house, no one speaking up against the action, appreciating the help.
“ Hey schtu-ball, you with us? “ Greg asks, shifting his hand up to Steven’s shoulder, and he hums in response, moving his face back into Lion’s mane, another shiver raking his body. He hates this, he hates feeling like this, like he isn’t in control of his own body, which is a feeling he has unfortunately gotten used to over the last few months. But this was worse, he was completely open and raw to everyone and he couldn’t stand it. His energy was too depleted to do anymore than just quietly cry, his louder cries being traded out for quiet hiccups and sniffles.
“ Is he alright…? Steven, bud? “ Amethyst’s voice comes from his left, careful, hesitant, and he allows a lidded eye to look over at the gem, peeking out from the pink mane he’s hidden in, and relief dances across her face, eyes glossy. Steven doesn’t feel like he can utter a word, but he hopes that just simply looking at her is enough.
“ I think he’s exhausted, it’s been a….long day. It's a good thing Lapis is making sure his room is good. He could probably use some sleep, “ Greg says, and almost like she heard them, Lapis flies back over from the beach house, confirming his room's stability. Everyone shifts, including The Cluster, who carefully moves them up to the balcony. Steven reacts to the movement with a surprised, quiet whine, holding onto Connie’s hand more tightly in response, and she shushes him gently, a careful hand on his other shoulder as she huffs at the sudden movement.
The gems say their thanks to The Cluster as they trample off, waiting patiently for the others.
“ Alright, come on bud, let’s get you in your room, “ Greg says, allowing Steven to release his hold on Connie’s hand and Lion before scooping him up instinctually, which Steven is distantly grateful for because he doesn’t think he could walk right now if he tried. He feels a hand on his forehead, brushing his hair back, and he vaguely recognizes the hand as Garnet, her touch gentle yet solid, letting him know she’s there. She pulls away after a moment, whispering something to Greg that Steven can’t make out. His dad nods gently, and begins to walk.
His mind seems to get foggier in this position, Greg’s careful movements as they walk into the beach house comforting his addled mind as he gets brought upstairs, the voices getting quieter as he reaches his room.
Distantly, he doesn’t think he deserves this, they’re being too kind to him after everything he just did, and he can’t even remember a portion of it, blocked out behind static, which seems to become more prominent as Greg ventures into his room.
He’s not sure what happens after that, zoning out for the most part as he feels himself get helped into a pair of his pajamas, and placed in bed, surrounded by his covers. He feels a warm, larger hand brush his hair back, a gentle kiss placed on his forehead, then footsteps fading away as he begins to drift, a vague presence next to him all he feels as he nods off.
—
He isn’t sure what woke him up, awareness pushing into his mind without him asking, making him aware of the aching in his head, as well as the rest of his body. It felt like he was flattened by boulders than rolled through some mud, his limbs heavy, and he groaned, trying to shift his body to lessen the pressure he felt. He heard a gentle hum, and a hand moving to brush through his curls carefully, consistent yet hesitant, almost as if it’s waiting for permission to continue, which Steven obliges with a content hum. His mind feels fuzzy, body aching, is he sick? When was the last time he got sick? It’s had to have been a couple of years at the least…it hadn’t been a common occurrence since his…healing powers fully developed. Weird.
He carefully peels his eyes open, squinting at the light coming into the room, and he groans, comfort forgotten to twist his body away from the offending brightness, and he hears a muffled apology to his right, something shifting to lean carefully over his back, hair tickling his face.
“ Steven..? You with me? “ a familiar voice asks, a chime that always makes his heart flutter. Connie. Wait, Connie? What is she doing–
The memories come back to him all at once, and he shoots up in bed, accidentally sending Connie reeling back in surprise, a gentle oof leaving her as she hits the pillows. She recovers quickly, sitting back up in a blink, instantly grabbing the shaking boy’s free hand, the other covering his face as he leans over, short breaths leaving his mouth.
“ Steven…Steven hey, you’re alright, “ she mutters quietly, trying to avoid overwhelming him more, and he shakes his head, lifting his face up to meet hers, eyes unfocused and glassy, lip trembling. His hand bunches up his shirt, right in front of his gem, eyes jumping around Connie’s face, his room, his bed, like he was taking it all in for the first time.
“ You–you shouldn’t be here, I don’t wanna–I don’t want to hurt you! “ he forces out, voice hoarse and weak, chest heaving. That familiar pink hue starts to crawl across his skin, fast and sudden, and he panics more at the sensation, shifting uncomfortably. Connie frowns, placing a careful hand on his chest, keeping the other in his.
“ You won’t hurt me, Steven. You’re okay, I’m okay. Relax. Breathe. “ she speaks gently, taking a deep, purposeful breath, keeping her eyes on his own glassy orbs. His eyebrows furrow, confusion etching itself into his expression, seamlessly blending into his panic.
“ Breathe with me, okay? I don’t want you going into a panic attack right now, you’re too drained. “ Connie says firmly, repeating her deep breaths, waiting for him to follow.
‘ Panic attack? ‘ Steven thinks to himself ‘ I’m not– ‘ he stops, taking note of his shaking limbs, heaving chest, and foggy mind ‘ ah. ‘
“ Yes, you’re having a panic attack, Steven, “ Connie says in a deadpan voice, somehow reading his mind, and a light amusement dances in her eyes as Steven frowns. Connie shifts, crossing her legs to sit more comfortably, and Steven shakily copies, focusing on following her breathing, the two sitting in silence other than their breathing, in sync as Steven calms.
As the panic settles, it leaves a heaviness sitting in his chest, thick as molasses, and he carefully pulls his hand out of hers, hands fisting into his pajama pants. The pink hue faded from his skin, leaving his normal tone. Exhaustion lays itself over his shoulders like a weighted blanket, settling over his aching body and he deflates a little, eyes stuck looking at his sheet, crumbled up around his hips.
It was quiet, too quiet in the beach house. Almost as if it was purposeful. If he strained his ears, he could hear the wind of the early day blowing into the house, right through the large gaping hole he knew was caused by him. The knowledge of that stung, but he knew that it would be fixed up quickly, Bismuth probably already had the plans ready, knowing her. He hated that, he wanted to help fix this mess he made, but he didn’t even know how to begin. Not after that.
Connie shifts closer to the teen, knees touching his own as her eyes scan over his form, calculating, observant. She was a lot like her mom in that way, analyzing details, signs, symptoms.
“ You’re in pain, “ she states simply, concerned, care in her expression as she lays a careful hand on his forearm, feeling the gentle trembling going through his form. He sniffs, looking away as tears seem to appear from nowhere. It frustrates him, and he scowls, burying his face in one of his hands, nails pushing harshly into his skin, trying to will it away. He’s desperate to hold it together, though clearly that wasn’t working out as well as he wanted, not anymore, as the tears didn't stop.
Steven feels a gentle hand pry his own away from his face, another hand settling on his cheek, turning him back to Connie. She huffs, bringing his hand up to her lips and leaving a gentle kiss on his knuckles, which stuns him, blinking in surprise at her as she hums.
“ You don’t need to hide how you’re feeling, Steven. Not anymore, and I don’t want you hurting yourself to try and stop it, “ she says firmly, eyebrows furrowing in determination, “ being as blunt as possible, you scared the hell out of me. I’m not saying that to make you feel terrible, but I’m being honest. I need you to know how much I care about you, and I hate that you felt like you had to keep this all hidden from me, from all of us. “ she takes a breath, tightening her hold on his hand as he listens, an unreadable expression settled on his face.
“ You are not okay, and that’s not a bad thing to admit. We want to support you, after everything you’ve done for all of us, it’s the least we could do. “ she brushes his knuckles gently with her thumb, looking down to let him process her words. She knew that this wouldn’t be fixed with one crying session and some kind words. This was deep, a gaping wound in Steven that had never been given time to heal, constantly tore back open over the years. It hurt her, knowing he was suffering as much as he was and he didn’t try to get help, she doesn’t think he thought he deserved it.
“ …I’m scared, “ Steven mumbles, tears leaking out of his eyes freely now, looking down at their hands, lip quivering. The admission seems to stress him, but he presses on, “ I’m terrified Connie, of what I’ve become, of what I…of what I turned into. I’m not…I’m not me, not anymore. “ he admits quietly, biting his lip, his hold on Connie’s hand tightening, not enough to hurt her, but enough for his point to be made. He was always aware of his strength around her, especially as they grew up and his powers got stronger, he was always making sure he didn’t accidentally use too much of his strength.
It comforted Connie, in a weird way, that even as unstable as he is right now, he’s still making sure he doesn’t accidentally injure her, and it leaves a warm flame settled in her chest. He’s still himself, deep down. She didn’t want him to be afraid of himself, she hates that he feels that way.
“ I understand, but you’re still you Steven. You’ve just been through so much—so many things no one should’ve never had to deal with. You’re traumatized, but you’re still Steven. “ she explains gently, bringing both hands up to hold his face, thumbs brushing tears out of his eyes.
“ No matter what form you take, you’re still my best friend, one of the most important people in my life, and I’ll always make sure you know that. We’re still jam buds, okay? “ her own eyes water at the statement, tears falling freely down her cheeks, and Steven sobs gently, reaching a careful hand up to brush her own tears out of her eyes. His hand shakes as he does it, fear in his movements, but he does it nonetheless, warming Connie’s chest and face with the action.
Connie gently moves her hand to his neck, pulling him gently to her shoulder, which he doesn’t fight, face slotting perfectly between her neck and shoulder, shuddering. She brushes her hands through his curls, holding him close to her body as he cries, and even now, he tries to keep himself quiet. Very unlike his cries of the previous day, loud and uncontrollable, clawing out of him in a way that made her frown, holding him closer.
Connie isn’t sure how long they’ve been in this position, but at some point she had laid back against Steven’s pillows, pulling the boy along with her, allowing him to settle into a more comfortable position against her, face still hiding against her shoulder, he wasn’t crying much anymore, aside from occasional sniffs. His eyes were closed, though he wasn’t asleep, breaths too light. She brushed her hand carefully back and forth across his arm, a gesture she hoped was comforting to the soreness she knew he was experiencing, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
It wasn’t the first time the two had cuddled, with Steven being a naturally tactile person, she was rather used to impromptu cuddling sessions with him over the years, sometimes simply just lying across each other or leaning against each other. Other times though, especially as they got older, it was more like this. Legs tangled, bodies leaning against each other, warm and comforting. They hadn’t done it in ages though, Connie realized distantly. Everything with Steven had been going on for a while, months of a slow building spiral that led to his breakdown, and the two of them had been in a weird spot ever since he…proposed to her on the beach.
Connie won’t lie to herself and say that she didn’t have feelings for Steven. It was clear as day he had them for her too, but the two of them had never really…talked about it. They were comfortable how they were, and Connie truthfully never knew how to bring it up. But then he had gone and proposed, a moment clear to her now that was just part of this mental and emotional spiral he was going down. She knew something was wrong, but he wouldn’t talk to her, or talk to anyone, it seemed.
Then he had started swelling and turning pink, which according to Pearl and the others, was happening before he had even proposed, the turning pink part anyway. It had gotten worse after the proposal, the stress tipping his powers over into another level of reactive emotion, and it hurt her heart to know that she was part of that. She loved the boy, it was as easy to admit to herself as breathing air was, and if he’d asked she’d date him, and she’s sure it would be the same if she asked him. But they were young, a mere sixteen and seventeen years old, they had time.
She hoped that he knew that it didn’t change anything between them, if the position they were in right now said anything. He seemed relieved to be close to her again, letting his guard down to just be with her, and she let herself be in the moment with him, they both needed it.
Right before Connie could close her eyes though, she saw movement near the staircase, and she turned her head to see Greg and Pearl peeking around the wall, curiosity and concern in their eyes. She immediately brought her free hand up to press a finger to her lips, shushing them with a gentle smile, and the two seemed to deflate a little, smiling. They leave with careful steps down the stairs, and Steven shifts, eyes half open, looking at Connie.
“ Why’d you do that? “ he asked quietly, and Connie huffs, moving her hand up to gently scratch his scalp, smiling when the boy seems to relax more.
“ I want you to rest, everyone else can wait, okay? “ she tells him, and he hums, exhaustion seeming to win as he settles back in his original spot, closing his eyes again and getting comfortable, and this time, Connie feels content in doing the same.