A/N - Hey guys. Still working on "A Gem Like You" but I wanted to contribute something to Stevidot month. This is for the video games prompt. Hope you all enjoy!

"This one. This one."

Peridot held up the game box so that he could see which one it was. Her eyes were squinting behind the visor with eagerness as she would read a few words from the back and then peek back and forth between it and him with a smile.

Steven held a finger to the bottom of the case tilting it back. On the front, it read "The Haunting of Dreadmont Manor". Below the harshly sliced font was a ramshackle and boarded up Manor looming from above on a hill. Steven glanced up.

"Are you sure? I haven't even played this one yet."

Peridot hugged the box to her chest and swayed. "It's about a brave log recorder—"

"Journalist?"

"— A recorder" she continued firmly, "who goes into hostile territory to write logs about things so dangerous no other gem, uh, human has ever recorded. He also is there on a rescue mission to retrieve a small abandoned human who got lost. It is an undeniable fact that this is the most valuable of all your interactive log disks, Steven."

He grinned. "Alright, let's do it."

Peridot squealed in delight, pumping her knees up and down as she ran over to the Gamebox. The tray slid out and she lowered the disc on top of it with the utmost care as if it were irreplaceable. Steven picked up the controller and shook the chord to untangle it. They sat together on the edge of his bed watching while the logos passed and the main menu came up to reveal Dreadmont Manor challenging them to enter with the floating word "start" in red. Steven placed the controller in Peridot's hands. She blushed as his hands covered both of hers, showing with a push of his thumb against her smaller green one, how to work the thumbsticks to move the character and the camera. His fingers rested on her ring and pinky fingers as he showed her the triggers on the back.

"Well, I guess you do know most of this already, huh? Don't need me to tell you."

"I don't mind," she insisted at once looking up at him.

He pressed a button down. "This is your D-pad. It's mostly used for activating any items that you might find."

Peridot put her thumb on his and rubbed the side of it gently. "That will be most useful," she reported softly never taking her eyes off of his.

Steven leaned down to that face turned up to him as it retreated away and then shyly returned. Their lips met. She pushed up against him impatiently as she always did as if he were perpetually late in giving her exactly what she wanted. Then it was that gentle ease as she relaxed, sated with that kiss, long overdue. She opened her eyes, narrowing them with a pleasurable flutter as she gazed back at him.

"Good luck, brave recorder," he whispered.

"I don't need luck, I'm a certified… " She stopped herself and smiled sheepishly, "Wow… thanks."

She turned determinately toward the TV her lips forming a firm line. She jabbed her thumb down on the start button accepting the challenge. The button press was punctuated with a lightning flash and a boom of thunder. Peridot jerked forward. She swallowed and regripped the controller in her hands, and Steven looked over at her. She reduced the distance between them with a quick scoot and then selected new game.

After a quick cinematic that showed the journalist arriving and entering the manor, Peridot began exploring a foyer. Steven had seen houses like these in some of the old movies that Pearl liked to watch. So many people would be passing through, a footman introducing a new gentleman in a coat, ladies huddled together passing secrets with gloved hands. Now with each step, the boards underneath the journalist creaked, worn and covered in dust. Everywhere were lines of scratches on the floor as if someone had been moving furniture over and over. The journalist passed a rotting Victorian chair pressed against the wall with its padding long gone leaving its covering to hang like floral skin stretched over a wooden boney frame.

The staircase leading upstairs was closed off. It was blocked by a pile of ruined chairs, tables, and couches. When Peridot guided the journalist over to it and pressed a button, it made him say Hm. Looks like someone hacked all of this to pieces.

Peridot hm' ed with him. Steven pointed. "Hey. Check that table there. I think one of the drawers is glowing slightly."

Peridot moved away from the staircase and checked the foyer table. It was a deep mahogany. All but one of its drawers were missing. Inside was an old newspaper clipping. Peridot's eyes scanned it dutifully.

Steven read the title out loud, "Business magnate claims that son isn't really dead."

"Charles Dumont S R," Peridot murmured, "This old log says that he also had a daughter who was not shattered. Daughter… " she repeated, "Is that like what you are except female?"

Steven nodded, "Yep. I'm my dad's son. She was Charles's daughter. Oh, also," he added smiling faintly, "it isn't S R, it's senior. That means he named his son the same name. Humans do that sometimes to carry on a legacy or a name they think is important. It's like how my middle name is Quartz to carry on something from my mom."

Peridot admired the newspaper, "So these humans were high ranking. This mission is of higher importance than I first concluded."

She dismissed the zoomed in image of the article with a button press and swiveled the camera up to a picture frame above the foyer table. Steven was surprised that it was still hanging at all since the tan wallpaper was peeling off in strips in most places. In the flaking frame was a picture of a woman with a delicate oval face, her dark black hair pulled into a bun. Despite her soft features that hinted at kindness, her expression was severe.

Further down the hall, past the foyer, the boards creaked.

"What was that?" Peridot whispered as if whatever it was could hear her. She bent over the controller.

"Ah, it was probably just the house. It's old and they make noises like that when it settles. Check out that other painting, I think that's Charles Sr."

Peridot made a move toward it, but the boards creaked again. "Nyeh!" She snapped the camera in the direction of the hall and at the end of it was a dark, crooked figure. Steven jumped.

But Peridot cocked her head, "Oh. Maybe it's one of the Dumonts. Maybe I can talk to him with the A button."

The figure started to shamble toward them down from that long hall.

"Peridot I don't think—"

From one of the side rooms in the hall with an open doorway, lightning flashed at the precise moment it lurched past revealing a horribly disfigured face that sunk back into darkness with a boom.

"NNNNNEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYAAAAAAAHHHH!"

"That's Junior! You have to run!"

Peridot was frozen in place, her thumbs trembling on the joysticks.

Steven grabbed at her shoulder and shook, "Run Peri! C'mon into that living room!"

Peridot slammed the joystick down hard and scrambled into the living room that looked like an old fashioned drawing room. The camera went crazy as she spun around trying to find a way out. There was a door on the other side of the room. She made a break for it while the arrhythmic thumps of junior's legs came from behind her. Peridot was breathing harder and harder.

"How can a motor dysfunctioned individual move so fast!" she whined. She stabbed the A button over and over but all she got was the sound of the knob jiggling. It was locked.

"Oh no no no. Ste-VEN! What do I doooo?!"

"Uh. Uh. You gotta hide! Try—"

Junior wheeled the journalist around with a hand made up of only three large fingers, and Peridot let out a shriek as he drove a huge ax into the journalist's chest. The journalist fell over and gurgled his last breath. A shock of thunder and then the game over screen appeared.

Peridot stared agape at the screen, holding the controller limply in her hands. It slid out of her fingers onto the floor. She threw her arms around Steven and buried her face against his chest.

"Now I'll never bring Dreadmont's logs back to my own people."

Steven lowered his head against her blonde hair, pushing the peak of it down with his cheek. He squeezed her. "It's okay. That was only one death. You're supposed to die all kinda times in games like these. That's how you learn and get better. Look."

She turned her head but kept her cheek against his shirt just in case what he was showing her didn't make her feel better. She muttered, "What."

"There's a retry. You pick that and go back to the last checkpoint. We can try and beat him this time with what we've learned."

Peridot's eyes widened, and she sat up, holding onto his arms, "A retry?"

Steven pressed a kiss to the side of her head, "Yep."

Her eyes darted back to him underscored with patches of evergreen, "Of course, I… I knew that." She picked up the controller off the floor and sat back next to him, adjusting herself. Now she was smiling. Confidently, she pressed the button for retry.

The checkpoint took them back to the foyer. Peridot retraced her steps to the table and reread the newspaper clipping. The boards began to creak again at the end of the hall. This time, Peridot ran into the drawing room straight away, but didn't try for the door. The frantic hobbled thumping started up like some kind of disturbed engine.

"Gotta find a place to hide, quick," Steven said. The camera swept around the room. He pointed, "That old wardrobe! Bet you could fit in there."

Peridot rushed over to it and with the press of a button, the journalist started to climb into it.

"Nyeheheheh."

There was a crack in the doors of the closet so they could peek out. Lightning flashed. BOOM. And then Junior was standing right there in front of them.

Peridot gasped and whined. Wherever his eyes darted, his whole body swung with him. Junior searched for them by grabbing the fainting couch and heaving it over. Peridot's hand shot down and grabbed Steven's. She threaded her fingers between his while her other hand wobbled with the controller.

Both of them sat there side by side holding hands as they waited for Junior to give up the hunt. When he couldn't find them, he started to growl and whisper to himself. Both of them jumped when he finally brought his ax down on something right beside their hiding place. Wood snapped and glass shattered. Then, all was silent. Peridot moved the camera. Steven didn't see anything, but he knew he had to be out there still.

Glass crunching underneath boots. Junior swept right by the crack in the wardrobe doors, the ax head leaving one long white scratch in the boards as he drug it behind him.

"nnnnneeeeeeggghhhh." Peridot squeezed Steven's hand.

Junior stumbled out of the room, and the thumps slowly faded away. They both let out a breath at the same time and looked at each, Steven grinning and Peridot amazed with an open-mouthed smile.

"It worked!"

"He isn't going to catch us," Steven winked.

Peridot regripped the controller with both hands, "Not this time. We have to find a way to unlock that door."

"Well, there has to be a key somewhere. Maybe we can check this room for it first. That way if Junior comes back we can just use the wardrobe until he leaves again."

Peridot nodded sharply, "A sound strategy." She pressed a button and climbed out of the closet. The camera moved all on its own to settle on a massive painting above the drawing room's fireplace mantle. The severe woman was standing erect in the center of it wearing a dark dress. On one side of her was a little girl with black shiny hair wearing a white dress and holding the woman's outstretched hand to her chest. She faced forward posing politely for the painter. The artist had captured even that small perception of tiny fingers tugging onto the woman's steady hand. On the other side of her was a young boy around the same age. He wore a formal outfit with a black vest and shorts. His eyes were downcast as if the hand on his shoulder was heavy.

"Maybe that's Mrs. Dumont?" Steven offered.

Peridot didn't say anything but only stared at the painting and at the little boy and that heavy hand. "I don't think so… " she said softly, "have to find that key." She began to search the room. Junior had destroyed the small bar cabinet that was next to the closet. There was nothing there but empty bottles and broken shards of glass. The journalist rifled through a bookcase whose bottom shelves had collapsed into book ramps. Smells musty. Like everything else in this place.

"Even with a creature hunting him, his analysis is still calm and professional," Peridot remarked with admiration.

"I'm helping too... "

She gazed over at Steven. "You're much stronger than his puny form. You would have beat the monster instead of running from him." Peridot beamed at him and leaned into his shoulder pressing the corner of her blonde hair down. Steven smiled and put his arm around her.

"Maybe the Piano? It's the only thing we haven't checked yet," he said. Peridot nestled into his side, getting comfortable, and went over to check. It was a grand piano with that same deep mahogany. The cover was already propped open. The journalist ran his hand along the inside and stopped. It's a key. Must go to something around here.

Peridot grinned and wiggled in place. "Victory!"

The cover fell down on top of the journalist's arm as he went to pull it free. A discordant set of piano notes played.

"WHAT?! GAH!"

Peridot and Steven suddenly looked at each other. In the distance, they could hear the beginnings of a frantic stagger.

"Nooo noo no no!" Peridot mashed the A button repeatedly to free her arm so she could get to the door.

Thump athump thump athump thump athump

"nnnyyyyEEEEEEEEEEAAAHH!"

The journalist wrenched his arm out of the piano and stumbled away into the middle of the room. Peridot slammed the joystick down running for the locked door.

THUMP ATHUMP THUMP ATHUMP

The knob jiggled and wouldn't open. Peridot swung the controller up and down whipping the chord. "Why isn't it working?!"

"Crap I don't know! It should! I meant wait — It's an item Peri! Use the D-pad!"

Peridot ran her fingers over the D-pad buttons all at once and one of them highlighted the skeleton key. She slammed the button down and the door flew open. Junior was right behind them charging through the living room's archway, ax in hand. Peridot turned just in time to throw the door in his face and lock it.

She shouted, "HAH!"

Her face fell when the head of Junior's ax cracked through the middle of the door. Through the hole, they could see Junior heft the ax into the air and swing it down again, the hunch of his back bobbing with the motion. He was hacking the door to pieces.

"RUN PERI!"

The journalist turned, holding his bruised arm, and ran full speed down a shaft. It wasn't a hallway at all. It looked as if they were in between the walls of the manor itself. Behind them the door exploded and after them came

THUMP ATHUMP THUMP ATHUMP

"There is no logic to the design of this structure!" Peridot shouted shrilly as she held the sprint button down. Steven's heart sank as he saw up ahead that the shaft would soon come to a dead end. Just as they reached it, the floor gave out from underneath the journalist. Peridot stood up, gripping the controller hard in both hands, as he slid down a tunnel into the manor's basement.

The screen went dark and the loading screen popped up.

"Wha… what happen? Did I make it?" Peridot asked, slowly sitting back down.

The saving icon appeared on the screen. Steven let out a 'hah' and sat back on the bed, his heart still pounding. "You made it. We reached a new checkpoint."

"Heh." Peridot turned to him with an uneasy smile.

"You did so great, Peri."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek, "Let's do the next part."

They played for hours until it got dark and Steven started to get sleepy. His eyes blinked open. He leaned up and looked past Peridot's shoulder to see 2:03 am illuminated blue in the dark. His throat felt dry. He'd get a cup of water from the kitchen. Even resting on the pillow, Peridot's brow was lowered and creased as if she tackled sleeping like she did everything else. Intensely. Steven leaned down and kissed the corner of her lips. She made a small moan and wrinkled the corner of her mouth. Her fingers stretched out to tug on something and curled into the sheet instead. He crawled down to the bottom of the bed and stood up.

He tried to tiptoe over to the stairs, but the covers on his bed ruffled. Slowly a green glow grew in the darkness. Below it were Peridot's eyes squinting at him. She thrust both her arms up toward him.

"Don't leave me alone, Steven!" she hissed. "Pleeeease."

"I'm thirsty Peri, I'm only going down to get a glass of water."

"He's gonna get me."

"It will only be a second. I promise. I won't take long."

"What if he gets you down there in the kitchen?" Her eyes were darting, suspecting every shadow.

Steven smiled, "I'm much stronger than him, remember?"

"No don't go, Steven," She brought the covers up to her chin, "He likes to ambush."

He walked over to her side of the bed, and she crawled up on her knees so that when he got close she clutched him around the neck and hung on like a peridot necklace. Steven held her by the waist.

"It's going to be fine. I'll come right back up."

"Nooooooo." She mashed her warm cheek against his and squeezed her eyes shut, "I won't let him get you. Stay here with me where it's safe."

He pulled away to look at her. Her hands were buried in his hair holding the back of his head as she looked up at him pleading. Steven raised his eyebrows.

Peridot still looked distressed, but she said, "Okay, well hurry."

She let go of him and sunk back down into the covers. As soon as he took the first step down, Peridot was clutching the side of the bed and leaning over to watch him go. He reached the bottom of the steps, flipped the kitchen light on, and walked over and got a glass out of the cupboard. Peridot followed every movement with her eyes. Steven turned on the sink, waited until the cup was full, turned the sink back off, and took a long gulp of water. Then, he headed back upstairs making sure to flip the light back off and brought the glass back with him taking casual sips along the way.

When he returned and sat on the edge of the bed, Peridot crawled up behind him and wrapped her arms around him.

"You could have been killed," she whispered with such assurance. She put her chin on his shoulder, and with a sigh of relief, as if she had already taken full stock of him, rubbed the soft blue cotton of his pajama shirt that covered his chest, relishing that nothing seemed to be unaccounted for.

Steven leaned back and when he tilted his face to her, she was already there looking at him with a tender, but impatient look. He kissed her. She held her face close to his as they parted. She rubbed her tiny nose against his, her warm breath mingling along with his in the dark.

"You know… I don't have a night light," he spoke low to her, "but I do have something close that might make you feel better." Steven went to stand up again, but Peridot threatened to go right along with him as a backpack. He staggered back down. "It's just over there," he told her, "I'm not even leaving the room this time."

He waited. Reluctantly, she pried away and threw herself down into the covers as if he had pushed her. There was a groan from the bed when he got up again. It turned into a whimper as he neared the closet. Peridot whispered something behind him, but all he caught was the word "hiding".

Steven went to open the closet door, but his hand stopped, his fingers hovering above the knob. Then he chuckled to himself. It was silly. There was nothing in there. Peridot had just put the idea in his head, that was all. He furrowed his brow. He tried to peer through the slats in the door. It was too dark. Besides, there wasn't anything to see. Except… maybe there was. Tucked between his shirts and coats, suspended above his old shoe boxes, there might be a grin. Deformed, as if something had taken a good grin, a joking grin, and had melted it so that it dripped into a frown, reforming, hardening, like wax after the flame has been snuffed, into a joyless, gaping crater.

He snatched the door open. His arm was already raised in anticipation of the shield summon. Nothing. Steven cleared his throat and dove his outstretched hand into his hair hopefully disguising the gesture from Peridot. He took a few slow breaths to collect himself. What he was looking for would be near the back. He crouched down and shoved the shoeboxes out of the way and fumbled around until he felt the round shape. Carefully, he drew it out.

"When I was little," Steven turned to her, "I told Pearl I wanted to go to the place my mom came from. If I couldn't meet her, I figured seeing her home would somehow get me closer to her. Let me know what she was like." He closed the closet door and positioned an orb on its stand between the TV and the bed. Peridot peeked from underneath the blankets, watching him set it up.

"I got really upset when she told me I couldn't go. That it was too dangerous." Steve smiled faintly and shook his head, "I didn't talk to her for like three days. Not until she came home with this."

With a click, the ceiling of his small bedroom lit up with countless sparkling stars. Peridot gasped and raised herself, the blankets falling back over her shoulders as she tilted her head back to take it all in.

Steven joined her back in bed. With murmurs of approval, Peridot wrapped herself around him. Together, side by side, they watched the stars twinkle from below. Peridot put her hand over his heart, and he set his hand over hers. Steven turned his head to her, rustling the pillow.

"Pearl sat with me, and she told me that this was as close as either of us could ever get to her anymore."

"As close as I can be."

"Do you ever think about going back?"

"Sometimes."

"Would you?"

"No." Peridot rubbed his leg with her stocking covered toes. "Not without you."

Steven reached down and scooped his hand underneath her thigh and pulled her closer. By the starlight he could see her blush. Her hand came to the crook of his neck.

Steven glanced up, "There's always going to be a lot of scary stuff out there, Peri." He looked back to her, "But we'll face it together."

Her brow began to knit in that impatient look again, but he kissed her suddenly.

"MMMM! Mmmmnnnnnn... oh"