Disclaimer: I don't own Steven Universe

Title: Ashes And Blood

Summary: Connie is forced to come to terms with her humanity after a battle with Homeworld.

Warnings: Missing limb, mild panic attacks.

...

Sueanoi- 'Tis my job, friend. Wait'll we get to the flashback chapter. =) (Yes, there's going to be a flashback chapter.)

Dragshot (chapter 1)- Lazy? Hmmm. I've been told I have a rather easy-going writing style, but I've never heard it be called 'lazy' before. Live and learn, eh?

Dragshot (Chapter 2)- Thanks! =)

pearl- Thank you. =)

...

At some point during her 'heroic' dash to get to the beach from her house, Connie had, rather carelessly, she might add, tossed her glasses aside.

She wasn't thinking about the future right then. She was thinking about Homeworld and the fact she was literally on her way to a battle and who in their right mind brought what amounted to dead weight to a battlefield? Besides, Connie hadn't technically needed her glasses for over a year now. Her parents knew about Steven's healing capabilities. They knew he'd healed her. And they also knew the completely accidental circumstances involved.

Connie more or less wore them because she liked them. (Steven also liked them, especially now that she was wearing them on honest terms, but that only had a very small part to do with it, honest. He seemed to like any look she chose to adorn. If she was wearing something just because he liked it, but had personally grown weary of it, he'd feel bad. Connie never wanted to make Steven feel bad.)

Amethyst, at some point during her clean-up prior to her awakening, had taken the time to search through her route and find them, and had returned them accordingly. They were a little dirty, but it wasn't like a quick wash wouldn't fix that up. And with no cracks to be crammed into (it's a real booger to get dirt out from between lenses and frame, let her tell you) it fell away easily.

She hasn't put them on yet. Instead she keeps them clipped to her shirt as some sort of trophy.

There's not a whole lot to do around the temple. Pearl is busy building something (what, Connie doesn't know- or, to be more precise, hasn't asked to know), Amethyst is always either cleaning up or raiding the fridge, and Ruby and Sapphire have been more or less secluding themselves, only coming out for their three daily meals. Ruby doesn't eat, nor does Pearl, so things get awkward at the table fast without Steven around to liven things up.

(Sapphire, as it turns out, is an incredibly picky eater. That's why Garnet only eats 'sometimes.')

The TV's busted, but there's not a whole lot on lately anyway. 'Under The Knife' is on a hiatus, and that's the only TV show she likes to watch.

To alleviate her boredom, Connie rereads the books on Steven's shelves, most of which she's given to him in the first place. Reading newer hard-cover books with one hand is surprisingly annoying, what with the book always wanting to close on her, but Connie learns to adapt.

The number one concern on her mind, however, is Pearl. The gem hasn't said two words about training since she woke up, and that's mildly worrying. Losing a limb is a justifiable excuse to cease all training whatsoever, one Connie can't really argue with. But if she does that, then how is she supposed to help Steven? What kind of friend would she be if she let a silly thing like this stop her from fighting by his side?

(Okay, so it's not silly, but maybe if she downplays it enough it'll start feeling like nothing.)

Ruby and Sapphire can work out whatever's eating at them together. Amethyst is already coping as best she can. If her teacher decides to pull the plug on sword fighting, Connie can't do anything but bow her head and say; 'Yes, ma'am,' because it's completely in her right to.

Connie doesn't sleep all that well without her slumber party pal. Not in his own bed, anyway. Nobody can really blame her on that one.

Eventually she gets up the gumption to ask Amethyst if she can come along with her. She hasn't left the house yet, and now is a good a time as ever. The gem agrees and, privately, admits she has yet to actually tackle the beach itself.

"I've been cleaning up the broken glass and any major breaks I saw. Haven't really gotten around to touching it."

Connie, her head tucked to her chest, considers both the pros and cons before finally nodding. "I'm ready."

She has to face her fears sometime.

Any living gems are already hidden away in the temple, protected by the sturdy pink of Steven's bubble, but weapons still linger among the wreckage, having no one to make them disappear.

The only weapon she can't find is her own sword, but that's to be expected. It was damaged, for one thing. For another; a ship landed on it. It's probably been crushed into the sand by now, if it wasn't melted by the heat and pressure of the initial contact. (Then again, she didn't have any major burns, so maybe not.)

"Man, this place is trashed." Amethyst whistles anxiously. "This is gonna take forever."

"Probably." She agrees, kicking a shard over. "So we might as well get started."

One couldn't say her mother and father hadn't taught her the in's and out's of having a good work ethic. She worked hard and diligently, as is to be expected. Slouching on the job is an all-around bad idea, especially when it's on a battlefield.

It's all a bit surreal, honestly. The last thing she remembered before passing out was the beach on fire and the ship falling to the ground in chunks, the smell of ashes, and pain, but now it's all so... innocent. The only dangerous things here now are the pointy bits left out in the open.

(And the technology, obviously, but Connie seriously doubted any humans could crack the technology- herself included.)

Until, that is, she finds it.

It being the gem that stabbed Steven in the back- quite literally. It being the gem who had quickly and efficiently sliced the point of her sword off.

It being the gem she had, quite possibly by pure luck and a stroke of magic on Pearl's end, stabbed back and broken.

Connie stumbles back. Her backside hits the sand, but she hardly notices. She focuses on keeping herself upright and taking deep breathes.

"Whoa, whoa. Connie, what's wrong?" Amethyst is by her side in an instant. She reaches out to hold her, then stops herself, hands reaching for her right side and left shoulder but never quite touching. Connie stares at the broken gem, waiting for it to burst to life, to take form, to kill her, to do something.

Amethyst follows her line of sight. "Oh. Is that-"

She swallows and nods, mouth dry.

"Oh. Okay. I got this. See? See?" She bent over and wrapped the fractured gem in a dark purple bubble, teleporting it without preamble. Connie dimly registers, in the part of her mind that isn't panicking, that she's never seen the gem bubble things before.

She doesn't know if she says it aloud or not (maybe it was just the look she was giving her), but Amethyst flushes and scratches the back of her head. "Heh. I don't like doin' that if I don't got to. My bubbling skills are pretty weak, 'specially compared to Garnet or Steven's."

Connie's stomach clenches, because Amethyst's bubbles are weak and she'd just sent that thing to the place where Steven was regenerating. Vulnerable, vulnerable Steven, whose gem, while difficult to crack, was still the only thing barring him from death, and he couldn't even protect himself in this state.

"Crud. Probably shouldn't have said that." She flops down on the sand and put a small hand in her shoulder. "Listen. Gems can't regenerate inside bubbles. Steven's gonna be just fine."

But what if he isn't? Amethyst already said her bubbles were pretty weak; what if they'd found a way? Homeworld's abilities and magical prowess were murky at best; what if they'd discovered a way to pop bubbles and they just didn't know?

"Okay, okay. Let me rephrase that. She's dead, Connie. She's not coming back. And even if she could, cracked gems can't summon their weapons. Ruby and Sapphire are pretty tough when they gotta be, and there ain't nobody on this planet who's gonna get near Steven if they don't like them."

Connie made a strangled noise and nodded, blinking back tears. Killing that gem hadn't really bothered her, honestly. She stabbed it, it broke, poof, gone. It was knowing that Steven- kind, passionate, always looking for the best out of people Steven- would find out that terrified her.

Her heart squeezes painfully. Amethyst pulls her into a hug. "It's okay. I get it. We've all been there. Take your time."

She grits her teeth and slowly wills the shaking to subside. Amethyst's hair is well-cared for, something she is grateful for, considering her nose is half-buried in it.

"Better?" The purple gem asks when she pulls away. Connie wipes her moist eyes on her arm.

"Better."

"You, uh, you gonna be okay, or do you wanna head back?"

She shook her head. "I'll be okay. Let's get back to work."

Pearl perks up when they open the front door, Amethyst leading, and stands up. "How did it go?"

For a split second Connie is afraid she'll tell the taller gem about her little 'moment' on the beach, but Amethyst just shrugs. "We got some of the bigger stuff outta the way, so it's a start."

Oh. Right. Duh. Amethyst is no hypocrite. It took life-or-death situations to get her to openly discuss her insecurities and pain- especially if Steven was in the room, as she wanted him to be proud of her (as if he would ever not be). What kind of gem would she be if she tattled Connie's to the first gem she saw?

"Oh. Well, that's good." Pearl smiles widely. Connie isn't sure if she's trying to show her support or is faking it horribly. Either way, she doesn't ask, and neither does Amethyst.

"Eh. I'mma go take a nap." She pats Connie's shoulder before disappearing into her room. Pearl watches her go with a friendly scoff.

"She'll clean the beach, but she won't clean her room." She tuts, but there's no heat to it. Pearl turns to her. "I have something I'd like to give you."

"Yes... ma'am?" She says, mildly concerned. Gems don't typically give gifts. Birthdays aren't really their style (and why would they be, when they live forever?) and they never got into most human holidays.

But it's not a present. It's a prosthetic, or so Pearl proclaims as she holds out a perfectly sized and crafted metal arm with yellow vein-like appendages running through the inside.

"It has a cloaking device, so it should match its color to your skin tone once you put it on." She explains. "It's set to- for the most part- painlessly attach to your spinal cord and brain, so it'll work exactly like your old arm did... I hope."

Connie stares at it, partially because she wasn't expecting it, mostly because it is, quite obviously, even, derived from Homeworld technology. "Uh, ma'am? Not that I don't trust and believe in your skills as an engineer completely, but..." She hesitates. "This is still Homeworld technology. Are you absolutely sure it's safe?"

Pearl's face softens. She nods. "Homeworld, while filled with dangerous gems, has remarkably unbiased technology. I can only assume it's to make the juggling of ships and leaders less complicated. I've already taken measures to block anything that could possibly be dangerous."

Connie takes her at her word. Pearl is meticulous in her work, and she's certain everything has already been combed through multiple times. Rather than argue further, she lifts the prosthetic to her right shoulder.

It attaches itself almost immediately. There's a slight tingling sensation, but otherwise the area goes numb. Yellow 'veins' appear just under the skin on her shoulder, then disappear further down as they reach for her spine.

There's a flash of light. The color changes from a blue-ish green to dark brown.

Blinking, she lifts it to the light, only to find the skin just as transparent as it was before. Yellow veins go to each finger, pool into her palm, and skitter up her arm into her shoulder.

"Excellent. Can you move it?"

Connie twitches the fingers, then clenches them into a fist. She can see the 'muscles' clench, but she doesn't feel anything.

"Alright. I have some tests for you, if you don't mind."

She doesn't. Pearl has her move each finger and raise and lower her arm. She sets a row of different objects on the table in front of the couch, and Connie grabs and uses each one to test her range of mobility.

The last one is a juice box, which she calmly pokes the straw through and takes a drink from. She's suddenly reminded of that picnic on the hill, that juice box filled with backwash, and of the glasses clipped to her chest.

"Pearl?"

"Yes, Connie?"

"I can't feel it." She sets the box down in demonstration. "I can move my arm and the fingers, but I can't feel any of it. It's not like it's numb or anything, it's just... not there."

"Well, no." Pearl blinks at her. "As amazing as Homeworld tech is, it can't- or, perhaps, won't- recreate nerve endings. You're never going to have feeling in that arm again."

She'd already guessed that, but hearing it be said so bluntly is a punch to the gut- one of many she's had today. Connie leans back and closes her eyes, willing away more tears. This isn't the time to cry.

"Connie, are you okay?"

She shakes herself and blankly wipes her face. "I'm fine, ma'am. This is just one of those 'wow, this really happened' moments, you know?"

She did. Of course she did. She'd survived a war, after all. Pearl doesn't answer.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Let's finish those tests."

"We're done testing for the day. I have to get started on dinner."

Had the day really passed so quickly? Connie had hardly noticed the hours slip by.

"Oh, and, Connie?" She pauses halfway through her trek to the kitchen. "Once this has all blown over, you and I need to have a talk about our lessons. We need to tweak the schedule a bit, but otherwise I think it'll be almost the same as before."

Connie perks up. "We're still doing it?"

"Of course we are." She scoffs. "Do you honestly think I'd stop now? You're at a disadvantage now, I must admit. Even more so than before. But we'll work around it. If anything, this little setback is all the more reason to train even harder."

Her chest puffs out on it's own accord, heart swelling with it. "Yes, ma'am!"

"Good. Now, come on. Helping me cook will be good practice."

Connie scrambles to get off the couch. "Yes, ma'am."

The juice box is left half-full on the table.

Author's Note: Because I can't be the only one who can't see the gems letting Connie go home missing an arm, right? =)

Now might also be a good time to mention that Peridot isn't going to make an appearance in here. Not because I don't like her, but because the idea came to me before 'Catch And Release' and I can't imagine a good way to work her into the story without making her look like a third wheel now.

No flames! Don't like don't read! Review!