Note: Content warning for anxiety attacks and PTSD.

Conversations, Part One

The night air was hot and humid, filled with distant jungle sounds— rustling leaves, monkey hoots, the drone of insects. The trees were thick, forming a canopy of leaves which went unbroken for miles and miles. Except in this one place, where six thousand years ago a spaceship had landed and crushed everything growing below.

Since then, the ship had been left rusting, vines and roots growing up and over and through its metal hull. Despite everything, trees had not managed to overcome it completely, and the break in the canopy remained. It provided a perfect spot for stargazing.

On the spaceship's roof Ruby and Sapphire lay sprawled out on their backs, staring up at the dark sky. For a while Ruby had kept up a running commentary, pointing out which star was which, reminding Sapphire of their names in both Gem and English, how far away they were, how many planets they had, what they looked like up close—

But then she got flustered. She'd never been very good at astronomy, never had a good memory for things. She was sure she was getting stuff mixed up, getting it wrong, she knew Pearl would have known better, or Garnet—

And besides. The stars were just a distraction. There was something else she wanted to talk about. Needed to talk about. She couldn't keep delaying.

So Ruby stopped trying to remember which star was castor. She turned over on her side, looked at her partner and said, "You— you should know. I fused. With Pearl. Yesterday."

Sapphire stared at her. Her reptilian expression was unreadable.

Then she flipped back over onto her belly, and reached up to the pouch which now hung from her neck on a cord along with the warp whistle. From it she pulled out a notebook and pencil. With Ruby's gem to provide light, Sapphire wrote out a single word response. Why?

Ruby sat up, shifting and sweating. Her… her freakout yesterday felt suddenly ridiculous, stupid. Embarrassing.

"Pearl asked," Ruby said, but that answer wasn't enough, and she knew it. "I was feeling… scared," she confessed. "And useless. And lonely. So Pearl—"

The temperature dropped, and so did Sapphire's plume. Her tail lashed. "I'm sorry," Ruby said. "I'm sorry— I shouldn't have— are you angry? I should have asked you first—"

Sapphire shook her head. Not angry, she wrote. Not at you.

"At Pearl?" Ruby asked. "Don't be. She was just trying to help, and she did help, really."

Again, Sapphire shook her head.

"Then— then why are you angry?" asked Ruby, frustration leaking in her voice. She hated this, hated the barrier between her and Sapphire, hated how they couldn't just know how the other was feeling.

Sapphire was crouched low, the pencil gripped tight in her claws. Frost had formed on her scales.

"Please, Sapphy," Ruby said, when minutes went by and Sapphire still didn't write anything, didn't move. "Please tell me."

Slowly, she did. Wish I could fuse with you.

"Oh," Ruby said, soft. "Me too."

Glad you have Pearl instead, Sapphire eventually scratched out.

"Oh- no. No, it's not like that." Ruby wrung her hands. "It wasn't like— Pearl's not like— she not your replacement. Okay? She's just… it's different." That wasn't clear enough, but Ruby couldn't find the right words. She groaned in frustration. "You're my Sapphire. You'll always be my Sapphire. Whether we can fuse or not."

But Sapphire was still so tense, her feathers still thick with frost. Ruby brushed her fingers along Sapphire's snout, melting some of the ice away. She asked, "Do you remember Sardonyx?"

Jerkily, Sapphire nodded.

Ruby was glad she didn't have to explain that, at least. There was a lot of history to Sardonyx, and not all of it good. She didn't want to risk re-opening old wounds, not when they'd worked so hard to help them heal over. Instead, she hoped that Sapphire could remember the— lightness of Sardonyx, the buoyancy, the thrill, the excitement. Hoped she could understand why Ruby might need some of that from Pearl, just now.

"Do you remember Onyx?"

Sapphire tilted her head.

"Pearl and my's fusion. That's her name. Onyx."

Recognition crept over Sapphire's face. Holding her paw flat, she flitted it in a tiny wave. It was a gesture which had come to mean 'I remember a little; tell me more.'

"Okay," Ruby said. She laid back down, and began idly running her hand through Sapphire's feathers. Maybe she couldn't recall the names of every star, but this, at least, she remembered perfectly. "In one of the war's early battles, Homeworld managed to take Garnet out. When I regenerated, you were gone. They'd taken you. I was—I was—" Ruby shook her head, nearly choked at the memory of fear and panic. "But Pearl was there. And she told me, 'We're going to her her back'…."

xxxx

The spaceship had become busy place, lately. People were always travelling in and out, playing and talking and chatting and working. Today, it was surprisingly quiet. There were no visitors, and not even Huggy and Bitey were there. They were out exploring the jungle— something they'd been working up to for some time now. After five-thousand years alone in a single spaceship, they'd been understandably nervous about leaving, but they'd been slowly gaining courage, working on making their way farther and farther out into the trees.

That left only Centipeetle and Sapphire. And after some consideration of how to fill this rare alone time, they'd decided to try playing some 'video games'. There were numerous options, but Centi had settled on something she'd seen Steven and the Amethyst play a number of times. Steven had described it as a 'Fighting Game', and it appeared to be a very simple battle simulator. You could pick a 'character' with set capabilities, advantages and disadvantages, and engage it in combat against your opponent's character.

Centi had chosen the character named 'Lonely Blade'. She'd seen Steven using him, and she liked his big hair. Sapphire had chosen a character named 'Fury Fist'. Centi could guess why: he was small, dressed in red, and fought with his hands.

The game had been engaging. Enjoyable. It required skill, speed, prediction, intelligence. You had to memorise patterns, see how buttons and movements strung together, fight defensively, look for openings—

It brought to mind new old memories— memories of the vastness of space, of a different set of controls in her hands, of the roar of her ship's powerful engine, of battles and fire fights and—

— and then Fury Fist had come running at Lonely Blade, not in a run but in a roll, a spinning ball of flame—

And Centi hadn't been in her ship anymore, she'd been in a dark vast plain, and a Quartz warrior had been coming right at her, and— rolling at her— and she had reared up, spitting acid—

When she'd gotten hold of herself again, the TV had been half destroyed. Dripping, melted. Centi had stared at it, and cried.

It was such a stupid, stupid, trivial thing. Just a simulation, a human game, entertainment—

— and yet, it had left Centi on the floor, shuddering and shaking and spasming, a song screaming in her head, tears streaking down her face, acid pooling around her claws.

Her claws. Not her hands, her claws— she'd lost her hands again. And she'd thought she'd gotten used to that, that it didn't bother her anymore, but she'd been enjoying the game, she really had, but now it was destroyed and even if it wasn't, she couldn't play it because she didn't even have fingers—

A cold, heavy weight fell around her shoulders, grounding her.

Sapphire was whistling, a soft, soothing sound, a calming rhythm, a counterpoint to the frantic ugly tempo beating in Centipeetle's head, the one which would rise to a deafening pitch and leave her screaming, screaming, screaming, trying to block it out.

I'm afraid, Centi did not say.

I know, Sapphire did not say.

They didn't need to.

xxxx

With the fireplace lit, a hot cup in her hand, and a warm blanket on her shoulders, Connie felt incredibly cozy. Amazingly cozy. Experiencing a level of cozy she had previously thought could only be reached in holiday specials.

Of course, most holiday specials didn't have a pile of giant acid-spitting centipedes curled up by the fire.

Connie grinned to herself. A day in the life at the Universe household.

Though she had to admit… for the Temple, it was unusually quiet. No monster attacks, no explosions, no weird space tech. Part of it was because Steven wasn't around. Somehow he'd ended getting some sort of part time job at the Funland Arcade as a fake fortune teller, something which Connie found both supremely boring, super silly, and also kind of creepy. (The was scary how much the make-up made him look like an actual robot). Ruby and Amethyst were off doing something in the massive garbage piles of the latter's room. Pearl had promised to help Connie with her latest mathematics assignment later, followed by some sword sparring, but for now she was busy doing the laundry.

Connie didn't mind. She had something else to work on.

The coffee table was covered in books. So many books, that they'd overflowed to the couch, and even part of the floor. Books, papers, figurines, maps, her laptop. None of it was for laptop, or for training.

"It's for Dungeons and Dragons!" Connie exclaimed, as Sapphire surveyed the mess and gave Connie a probing look. "It's a table top game! Not just a board game like those—" Connie waved a hand towards the shelved boxes labeled 'Citchen Calamity' and 'Scruuble'— "But a roleplaying game. My Uncle Ojas introduced me to it, and even gave me a bunch of his old books and things so that I can play myself! I told Steven about it, and he said he'd like to try it, and so did a couple of kids from my school, so we're gonna get together next week and start a campaign!"

Sapphire nodded, but she still looked puzzled. She floated towards a pile of blank character sheets and leafed through them. After a moment, she wrote out, It seems very complex.

"Oh, it can be!" Connie agreed. "You need to write a whole story for it and everything. That'll be my job. I'm the 'Dungeon Master'. That means I have to make up the whole world— the map, the villain, the threats. Everybody else will make characters with different powers and strengths and stuff, and then they get to make actions, which succeed or fail by rolling dice. I get to guide them and tell them what happens."

Connie wasn't sure if Sapphire quite got it yet, but that was okay. She knew the Gems had trouble with a lot of human entertainment, so she was used to it. She settled back down to drawing her map. She had really cool world in her head— vast mountain ranges, dazzling deserts, sweeping fields— and magical floating castles, like the Sky Arenas would have looked in their prime, inhabited by an order of proud paladins—

She had nearly finished her final touches, and was looking up to grab a pencil sharpener, when she found Sapphire curled up on the couch, staring intently at the Dungeon Master Manual. After a moment, she got up to see what Sapphire was reading.

Sapphire wasn't reading. At least, not anymore. Instead, she had stopped at a full-page illustration. One which showed a band of adventurers— archer, mage, fighter, thief— dwarfed by the rearing form a massive blue dragon.

Connie's first thought was that it was a pretty epic picture. Her second thought was that, "Oh… that… looks a little like you, huh?"

Sapphire croaked. Her claws dug a little into the paper. Connie blanched.

There were arrows sticking out of the dragon's chest, dripping grey blood. The mage's hands burned with purple flame. The thief had a whip in her hands. And the dragon, for all its strength and fury, suddenly also looked really scared.

"Don't worry," she said. "You're a lot prettier than that one!"

Sapphire gave her a dry look.

"Sorry," Connie said. "But— I mean it. You're… not like this dragon. You're one of the nice dragons. There's a lot of stories about those. A lot. Seriously, I should bring over the Pern books next time. Or Eragon— it's not that great, honestly, but it's about this boy and a dragon who's name is actually Safira. Oh, and you know what? I bet Steven has a copy of How To Train Your Dragon— we could watch it when he gets back— Not that you need training, I mean…"

Sapphire started to make a rasping sound, one which stopped Connie dead mid-ramble. Was something wrong? Was she angry? Offended? Having one of those panic attacks—

But no, Connie realized. The sound was laughter. Sapphire was laughing.

Still chuckling softly to herself, Sapphire gently closed the book. She briefly rested a paw on Connie's shoulder, then jumped off the couch. She grabbed the pencil sharpner, then floated down to a spot besides the coffee table. Grabbing a pencil, she tilted her head at Connie in a way that said, Let's finish your map.

xxxx

Amethyst was training.

She tried to do it regularly. Once every week, at least; sometimes more. She joined in with Steven, or Connie, or Stevonnie. Sometimes she would even grit her teeth and train one-on-one with Pearl. And more often then not, these days, she'd find herself up in the ruins, alone.

It was boring, tedious work, but Amethyst wanted to get better, and little by little, she was. Her running was getting faster; her aim a little more precise; her stances a little more balanced. She'd never be as big or as strong as Jasper was, never be what a Quartz was meant to be, but she could, at least, do this.

Just then she was running drills with her whip. Peridot had built a bunch of 'battle drones' to defend the barn, and when Amethyst had asked if she could use some, Peri had been too pleased to ask why. Recycled from the old robonoids she'd sent to Earth, they were spherical robots about the size of soccer balls, which flew around and shot lasers at selected targets. The lasers hurt- but it would take about ten hits from them to force a regeneration. The closest Amethyst had ever gotten to that was seven.

But she'd been getting better and better at dodging the lasers, too. Today she'd only been hit once— and that had just been a graze on her arm.

It still hurt, but Amethyst ignored the pain as she rolled around the arena, throwing herself off of columns and leaping up the stairs as she dodged lasers. She'd outpace them until she found an opening— then she'd lasso a drone with her whip, pulling it in close enough to flick their off switch.

At the beginning of the session there'd been five drones; now only two were left. One was directly in front of her. Amethyst dodged its blasts easily. The other was behind her, out of sight, but Amethyst could hear it humming as it flew, could hear the warning whine before it fired—

Amethyst threw herself to the side. A blast of yellow light streaked past her as she twirled around and flung her whip around, snagging the robot. Grinning, she began to reel it in.

That's when, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Sapphire.

Her concentration broke, and so did her grip on the whip. It fell to the ground. The robot went flying backwards from the sudden release. The second drone took aim, and fired.

Amethyst got out of the way, but just barely. She felt the blast streak hot, past her cheek, felt it singe her hair. She hardly cared. All she cared about, just then, was Sapphire. Sapphire shouldn't be there, she could get hurt, the drones were only supposed to attack Amethyst, but what if something went wrong, what if they went after Sapphire, what if—

Putting on a burst of sudden speed, Amethyst raced for the drones' remote control. Lasers flashed around her as she ran, but not a single one hit before she dove onto the controller and slammed the off button. There were two small beeps. The robots switched out of attack mode, and obediently landed on the ground.

Amethyst sagged with relief. She looked over to where she'd seen Sapphire. She was still there, unharmed and unperturbed.

Or mostly unperturbed. Her appearance was on the 'human' side today— she was probably fresh from a healing. Floating upright, with her ball-gown in place and her feathers falling down past her shoulders, Sapphire looked very regal and composed. The expression on her still reptilian-face seemed calm. But her arms were crossed, and her claw-sharp nails were digging into her skin. Sapphire's single eye was just barely visible through the bang of feathers, and its gaze was fixed to the ground, where Amethyst's abandoned whip lay.

Amethyst made the whip vanish.

"How long have you been there?" Amethyst demanded, more angrily than she intended. Sapphire flinched a little, and Amethyst gave herself a mental kick.

But if Sapphire was afraid, that didn't stop her from floating over and silently handing Amethyst a slip of paper. It said, We need to talk.

Amethyst looked at the ground, rubbing the arm where she'd been grazed. She didn't want to talk. Not about this. She'd been hoping she wouldn't have to. She'd been thinking that after Smoky, she wouldn't need to.

Apparently, though, she would. No getting out of it. So Amethyst took a deep breath, and said, "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I— Sapphire— I messed up. Bad. I hurt you, and I'm really, really sorry—"

Sapphire held out a page from her notebook. It said, I'm sorry I hurt you too.

Amethyst blinked. "What?"

Sapphire turned to the note book's next page. You attacked me. I attacked you back. I'm sorry.

"Yeah— but you were just fighting back, and anyway, you didn't know what was happening—"

Neither did you, the next message began. Amethyst was wondering how exactly Sapphire had managed to write out responses to all of these things ahead of time, when right, yeah, duh. So she just kept reading. It was a mistake on both our parts. We need to acknowledge that and try to move past it.

"I," Amethyst began, but then stopped. "Sure. Okay. How, then?"

Sapphire had prepared a response to that question, too. It was a long one, filling an entire page of the notebook with tight, too-neat script. The lines of each letter were pressed deeply into the paper, sometimes so sharply that the pencil had nearly torn through. Clearly Sapphire had taken a long time writing it. Amethyst figured that giving it the time to read through it properly was the least she could do.

It can be hard for me to tell what is real. Sometimes I have trouble telling the difference between memories and visions. It can be scary, and if I panic, it only gets worse. I've been learning to calm myself down, but I need to figure out how to stop myself from panicking in the first place.

I get scared around your whip. Sometimes I get scared around you. Amethyst's grip on the paper tightened. I know that what you did was an accident, and that you would never deliberately hurt me. But it can be hard for me to remember that.

I need to remember. There are going to be battles where I will need to fight. When that happens, I cannot allow myself to panic. I need to get comfortable around you, around your whip, and around combat. Will you help me?

Amethyst stared. Sapphire was afraid she wouldn't be any use in a fight?

Well. Amethyst knew how that felt.

When she finally looked back up, Sapphire's face was taut, as if actually worried Amethyst would say know. Amethyst snorted. Smiled. "'Course I'll help."

oOoOo

Author's Note: Hey everyone. Sorry there was no chapter last week... between a hectic personal life and certain real life events, I was left without much time or motivation for writing.

But now we're back! As I've been writing, I've realised I'm lengthening my plan for how long this fic will be (again). This chapter was initially going to cover much more than what's here, until I realized how long it was getting and decided to split it. Plus, I suspect the conclusion is going to take a little longer to wrap up as well. So I currently predict thirteen chapters total.