Chapter 20

Content warning: I know that there should be content warnings slapped all over this story, but there's an explicit instance of dissociation/ panic attack in this chapter that may be especially triggering. You've been warned!

…

Formless shadows swirled around him, pulling his senses taut as bowstrings. He could feel the frightened figures surrounding him, but he couldn't open his eyes to see who they were.

He was faintly aware that he was moving. Hands pressed into him, too many to count, and then he was still. His awareness was lost in a sea of murky darkness, and he was left straining to understand what had happened. Where was he, and how did he get there? Why couldn't he wake up?

The touch of cold metal against his skin sliced through the darkness for a moment, then was gone. A figure leaned in close over him, clinical and calculating. Underneath their composure, he could feel an icy sting of fear. What were they afraid of?

A pungent smell filled the air around him, and he became aware of a dull ache spreading across his body. Was he hurt? No matter how hard he tried to focus, he couldn't remember. The figure hesitated for a moment, wavering over him with a pang of sympathy, almost an apology. The moment passed, and the hands pressed firmly into the source of his pain.

His darkness was washed in red as flaming acid burned through him. The flames spread straight from his center outwards until his entire being drowned in them; the alarm that flared up from the figures only compounded his suffering. He wanted to scream, to fight off whoever was trying to kill him, but he couldn't tear through the veil into consciousness. Still, he fought.

More hands pressed into him and the pain melted away, along with everything else. Dulled felt like the right word. The volume on all of his senses had been turned down to a minimum, and all that remained were the fleeting sensations of the figures pushing and prodding at him incessantly.

He had no sense of time at all as he floated along in the darkness; only by the changes in the emotions emanating from the figures could he tell that time was even passing. Terror, relief, anger, and most potently guilt, made up the entirety of his existence. That was, until he was unexpectedly thrust into a memory.

A memory that he instinctively knew was not a memory at all played at the forefront of his mind. Someone in a very similar state to himself, stuck in their own form of unconsciousness, was waiting for something.

Him. She was waiting for him to go and save her. Spinel…

He could only observe in helpless silence as her confidence in him slowly morphed into self-loathing and doubt. An entirely new kind of ache overtook him as she drowned herself in guilt, dwelling over every misstep she had ever made until she felt like she'd shatter from the weight of them all. Somehow, after everything, she felt like she deserved it. She wanted it.

Almost as soon as the idea formed itself in her mind, it became a reality.

When it came, she welcomed it.

The deep crack of a brick against fragile crystal was all that it took. Then again, again, again.

Her last thoughts were grateful.

The memory splintered and fell away along with her life.

He was falling through the darkness, and he knew he'd crash. He didn't care one bit. He could almost feel the shards of Spinel's gem raining down with him, both of them diving together into an open abyss. He called and reached out to them, hoping for any sign at all that some part of her still existed.

There was only silence.

The fragments of her consciousness scattered and faded away, and he was alone.

His grief, though muted by whatever forced state he was in, dragged him in a million directions at once. Something bigger than himself had just occurred, a plot point in a story so ancient that his human mind couldn't even fully comprehend it. The breadth of his spectrum couldn't hold the gravity of it all, and through his mortal lens it broke itself down into easier to process bites.

Spinel was gone. Shattered.

She had been defenseless, trapped in a bubble.

Pearl killed her, purely out of spite.

She didn't deserve to die, and Pearl knew that.

In the end, rage won out above the tumult. Although he'd been so ready to forgive her for rejuvenating Pink Diamond and allowing Spinel to waste away in the garden, this revealed her true motives. She never had their best interests in mind at all.

Spinel was right when she tried to warn him. Pearl never changed at all; she was still just as bitter and ruthless as she was six thousand years ago. If only he'd listened to her, she would still be alive. A pang of guilt added fuel to his fury; if he'd only listened to her, they could've figured something else out, and Spinel would still be alive.

He fought harder against the unseen force holding him unconscious as his thoughts lit up in a brilliant, angry pink. He felt a distantly familiar power filling him, a phoenix finally rising from ages-old ashes. An anger unlike anything he'd ever experienced overwhelmed his every sense; in that moment he was not wholly himself as his forgotten half lent him the strength he needed, and he welcomed it.

He mentally cried out in rage as he tore his way to consciousness, bent on revenge. No matter what it cost him, Pearl would pay for what she did. She didn't deserve to go on living as if she didn't completely destroy an innocent gem's life; first with mental torment and then by shattering her. Not only that, but for what she did to Pink Diamond, to him. She stood next to Pink Diamond, then Rose Quartz, and then himself, all the while knowing what she had done to them. The depth of her deceit shocked him as much as it infuriated him.

Terror spiked up from the two figures situated around him, and he felt hands pushing into him again. He struggled to yell at them to leave him be, but he knew it wouldn't work. He was getting weaker again. The power that sang from his gem wavered and flickered out, and he found himself falling under again.

The darkness encompassed him further now, blocking out all coherent thought.

Floating along in the darkness, the guilt emanating from the figure at his side was his only companion.

…

The sun had long since set on Little Homeworld by the time Ruby and Sapphire finally plopped down onto a bench overlooking the empty courtyard. After the longest and busiest few days of their lives so far, they felt both bone-tired and fulfilled. From simple scrapes to ruinous miscalculations, they had spent every second of their time helping the bustling town with Sapphire's future vision. Every single mishap she had seen, they'd successfully prevented; all but one.

Sapphire wouldn't go into detail about what exactly was going to happen; she only told Ruby that it wasn't set in stone yet and that they had to wait for the right moment to intercept if needed. With that in mind they relaxed, breathing in the cool midnight air and letting the sounds of the ocean flow over them.

In between the distant crashing of the waves was an electric silence. Somehow, after the time they had spent completing task after task, they had no idea how to act when it was just the two of them again. Ruby flashed a glance to the gem at her side, then looked away just as quickly. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, forcing herself to cool down; she figured Sapphire probably wouldn't like it if she set their bench on fire.

"It won't. I mean, you won't. Set the bench on fire." Sapphire's cool voice drifted up from next to her, instantly warming Ruby's cheeks even further. She was about to open her mouth to ask, but Sapphire beat her to it. "You were about to make a joke about setting a fire, but you don't need to worry."

"Oh," was all she could come up with in reply, and they settled back into tense silence.

In the moonlight, she could barely make out the silhouette of her companion lounging next to her. Her silk gloved hand rested in the space between them, stroking lightly across the wood grain with her fingertips. That detail struck Ruby as odd; in all of the time they'd known each other, Sapphire always sat with her hands folded in her lap. It was just her natural poise, so why the change?

She watched the gem's delicate fingers sweep back and forth over the space next to her, confused by the oddity of the gesture. That was, until she caught a sparkle of something spreading across the silk gloves. She squinted, looking down as nonchalantly as possible.

It was ice. Tiny crystals of ice were forming across Sapphire's fingers as they crept across the seat of the bench. She was nervous.

Suddenly, Ruby felt like she could burst into flames. She knew she could be dull sometimes, but something about the way Sapphire's body seemed to lean towards her made her intent obvious.

Ever since the blue gem had opened up after the sword training incident, Ruby had felt protective of her, far beyond what her duty entailed. At first, she didn't understand why she felt that way, but she accepted it as just a part of her nature as a bodyguard gem. Her feelings had changed over the time they'd spent together, developing into something deeper. More often than not, she caught herself staring at the gem and her face would stretch into an involuntary smile. There was just something about Sapphire that drew her nearer, although she never imagined that she would feel the same way.

Maybe it was the dark that emboldened her, but she didn't let herself think too much as she dropped her hand to her side.

The ice sizzled away underneath Ruby's blazing fingers as she covered Sapphire's hand with her own. Color blossomed across the pair's cheeks as a waft of steam rose up between them, curling away in the moonlight. They sat in silence for a long moment, feeling the extreme temperatures of their hands melding into equilibrium.

Ruby shakily stroked her thumb across Sapphire's knuckles as she spoke.

"Sapphire…I don't really know anything. When I formed here, before you came, I had no idea who I was or what I was supposed to do. I was nothing without you." She stared down at their hands, too afraid to watch her reaction. "I was made for you, but it's more than that now. I-I want to be with you, and not just to protect you. When I'm with you, I feel like I belong. Does that sound crazy?"

Sapphire was quiet for just a bit too long, and Ruby finally looked up. The smile that met her gaze erased all of her doubts, and she returned it earnestly. She'd never been good with words, but she felt confident that she'd gotten her point across, and even better, Sapphire seemed to feel the same way.

She lifted her free hand to brush her snowy bangs aside, and even in the dim moonlight she could see that Sapphire's eye was alight with joy. A gentle breeze blew across the courtyard, bringing with it the salty sting of the ocean, and in that moment the rest of the world fell away. There was a gravity between them as they stared into each other's eyes, unspoken words passing between them in a silent vow that seemed brand-new and intensely familiar all at once.

It struck Ruby then that something about this was too familiar, past the point of reasoning. Her smile faltered a bit, and Sapphire spoke before she could.

"I know…I feel it too." She nodded solemnly, moving her fingertips to Ruby's cheek. The cold stung against her blush, but she leaned into the touch anyways.

Her eyes never left Sapphire's as she was swallowed by strange feelings she couldn't recognize. She shivered as the small, cold fingers under hers shifted, lacing between her own and squeezing. She could almost…remember experiencing this exact feeling countless times over thousands of years, but it didn't make sense to her, and in the next moment the feeling slipped away.

Sapphire's eye darted to the side, breaking the spell as her bangs fell back into place. "Oh, stars. I- I was distracted, I didn't see… We're needed, let's hurry."

Ruby blinked dazedly at the sudden change of tone. Sapphire seemed harried and anxious as she jumped down from the bench, and she immediately took off towards the center of the courtyard.

Ruby gathered herself and caught up as quickly as she could, reaching her just as she hopped up onto the warp pad, and they were off. To her amusement, Sapphire was thrown off balance in the warp stream, and her hands automatically found the closest stable thing: Ruby's shoulders. They shared a nervous chuckle in the second before their feet touched down on the next warp, and then they stepped apart.

The scene that met them could only be described as chaos.

The Pearl and the Amethyst stood inches apart, each screaming over the other and seeming on the verge of a physical fight. The Lapis and the Peridot watched the argument from the stairs by the door, and two humans were huddled around a low table. As they approached the scene, Ruby could see another human lying unconscious across the table, looking much worse for wear. She paused in her steps as she caught sight of a light pink gem embedded in the human's navel, and Sapphire answered her unasked question.

"Yes, that's the Steven they've been looking for. He's badly hurt, and they're making it worse." They reached the center of the room, and she nearly yelled over the arguing gems, "You two are hurting him!"

That got their attention. Instantly, their heads swiveled in the direction of the human boy on the table, their spat set aside. The smaller human gripped his hand in both of hers, scanning over his sleeping face in a panic. By all accounts he looked fine, aside from the ridiculous number of physical wounds he sported, but Ruby knew to trust Sapphire's vision. If she said the argument was hurting him, they'd better believe her.

"What are you talking about? He looks fine, he's just sleeping." The aggression from her abandoned argument still laced Pearl's words as she snapped at the small blue gem in front of her. Something about her tone put Ruby on edge; she stepped up to her side, just in case.

"He's in a state of heightened sensitivity to the emotions around him. He will be unconscious for a few days as he heals, but any strong negative emotions around him will slow that recovery. If you want him to heal properly, you either need to calm down or take your conversation elsewhere."

With that said, it was settled. Pearl huffed shortly and threw herself down on the couch while Amethyst stomped back over to the kitchen area. Ruby watched as the purple gem deposited a geometric stone onto the countertop, where it sat inanimate.

Hopefully Sapphire would explain this mess to her when they left, because she felt utterly lost.

Luckily, they only stuck around long enough to make sure there wouldn't be any more issues. The room fell into tense silence for a few minutes, and then the Pearl suddenly launched up from her seat and stormed over to the warp pad. In an instant, she was gone, and their task was complete.

Sapphire's cool voice floated up from next to her, "We aren't needed anymore. Let's go."

Ruby hoped she wasn't imagining the faint twitch of the blue gem's lips as she followed her over to the warp. Something about that almost indiscernible smile as they left together made her own mouth stretch into a ridiculous grin, and she reached for her partner's hand as they were whisked off of their feet.

…

Connie helped her mom clean Steven up and change his clothes, and then she and Amethyst carried him up the stairs to his bedroom. She had seen the silent objection in her mom's eyes as she announced that she'd be staying with him, but she knew it was a lost argument and didn't say anything.

When Steven's bandages had been changed and he was passed as stable, her mom headed home with the assurance that she'd come back as often as possible to check on him.

Connie carefully laid the duvet over Steven, painfully aware of each and every injury to avoid. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, strengthening as the night carried on.

It was nearly 3 am, and she had never felt more tired; nor had she ever felt so utterly relieved. Steven was home, and he was alive. The mattress creaked under her as she climbed on, curling herself up next to him. There was just enough room on the bed for her to leave a space between them; she was terrified of accidentally hurting him.

She fought the incessant drooping of her eyelids to watch Steven's calm, sleeping form for as long as she could. She felt like she could finally rest easy; even in his state his presence was like a balm to her nerves. Now, if only she could do the same for him when he woke up, assure him that she'd never leave his side again, that he was safe…

Her eyes snapped open suddenly, and the mattress creaked as she jerked awake. Her entire being was suddenly occupied on a single question. Was he safe? In all of the havoc, she'd forgotten to ask Pearl what exactly became of the gem that kidnapped her best friend. Was she still out there? If she was ready to kill Steven rather than lose him, would she fight her way back to Earth, try to steal him away again?

Unconsciously, her entire body had tensed up, ready to strike. The idea of losing Steven again drowned her in cold apprehension; she would never let that happen to him. The shadowy corners of the room suddenly felt ominous, twisting themselves into menacing forms that threatened to steal away everything she held dear.

She couldn't fight off sleep forever, she knew, but she would try. She would never leave Steven helpless again. Knowing it would help her stay awake, she let the frightful images fill her psyche, driving out any hint of tiredness that remained. She sat bolt upright on the bed, peering through the tiny gaps in the blinds for any hint of movement. The moonlight outside became a beacon of terror, as if that gem would crash down from the heavens again any moment.

Spinel. Hatred rose like bile in her throat as she recalled Pearl's description of her. How could someone hurt a being as pure and loving as Steven? She had no doubt at all that he'd only tried to help her the entire time she had him, and yet she had caused him so much pain, torturing him almost to death. How could anyone spend more than a day with him and not learn to love him?

She must be a monster, she thought. Irrational, desperate, murderous.

Her imagination conjured up images of a crazed, scorned friend of Pink Diamond stalking along the edge of the house, peering in through the windows. She could find them in their sleep, while they would both be helpless. It would be too easy.

A bird flew past the house, trailing a fleeting shadow across the window, and Connie gasped. Her blood ran cold, although she knew there was no actual threat. In that exact moment, Steven's breathing quickened, and a crease formed between his eyebrows.

Sapphire's warning echoed in her mind, and then she felt conflicted. She couldn't let her guard down, but if her fear was hurting Steven that was unacceptable. She had to calm down.

She relaxed, focusing on her breathing and easing the tension from her shoulders. Sleep nagged at her when she finally got a level head; her cheek found the pillow again, but she still didn't let her eyes fall closed.

Under the shared duvet, she searched out his hand. It was warm and heavy as she pulled it towards her, and she found all of her fears dissolving away. He was here, and he was safe, and she wasn't the only one looking out for him. A part of her knew that the worst was over, but just in case, she brought Steven's hand closer, pressing her lips against the backs of his fingers. Both of her hands wrapped around his, tight enough that she wouldn't miss if he moved.

If someone wanted to take him away, they'd have to pry him out of her hands.

With their hands entwined on top of her pillow, she finally drifted to sleep.

The next few days passed much the same; Pearl never came back from wherever she'd run off to, so Connie kept vigil by Steven's side almost constantly. She only ever left his bedroom the few times a day she needed to eat or use the restroom, and she always rushed back to him as if he were in immediate danger.

Her mom had brought her a few books during one of her visits, and Connie sat idly flipping through the pages until she got tired enough to curl up next to Steven and sleep. She always held his hand wrapped in hers throughout the night, just in case.

Over the days his wounds cleared up extraordinarily well, to the point where there was just a raw, pink scar left on his stomach where he'd been stabbed. His bruises had all lightened from deep purple to a sickly yellow, and the bags under his eyes had lightened significantly as well.

On the morning of the fourth day, Connie woke up to the feeling of Steven's fingers twitching against hers. At first she'd been frightened that something was wrong, but she quickly realized that he was just stirring in his sleep. He sniffed and turned his head in her direction, but otherwise slept on. It was still a good sign, and Connie found herself feeling hopeful.

…

His darkness gradually receded, so slowly that he didn't realize it until he could see sunlight streaming across his eyelids. The brightness hurt his head, but he fought against the urge to frown. He didn't move.

He could tell immediately that he was home. The softness of his bed pressed around him, and familiar smells assaulted his senses. Someone was there with him, sitting in a chair pulled up next to his bed. From the scent wafting up from the covers and from next to him, he knew exactly who it was.

How long had he been unconscious? Another question struck him then, much more pressing. How the hell did he get back home? A crease finally formed itself between his eyebrows as he tried and failed to recall how he ended up in his house, in his bed again. He could remember being in the garden, and then Pearl showed up, but the images that his mind conjured were faded and unclear. Did Pearl bring him home? She must have.

"Steven?" Connie whispered from next to him as if she was afraid she would wake him up. She probably noticed his frown.

Finally, he peeked over to her. Immediately, he was assaulted by the sunlight that streamed in above her head, crowning her in a golden halo. He cringed and his hand flew up to cover the side of his face, and he was taken aback by how heavy his limbs felt. His entire body seemed like it was made of lead.

Connie jumped up at his reaction, flying over to close the blinds. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. Is that better?"

He nodded but didn't remove his hand. He swallowed, then cleared his throat dryly. Although he had a barrage of questions for her, he figured he'd start simple. His voice failed on the first try, scraping and cracking out. "How- how long?"

"How long were you asleep, or how long were you…gone?" she asked, hovering nervously at his side. He shrugged.

"Well, you've been asleep for four days, and well, um, you were gone for a little over three weeks."

He nodded, considering that. It sounded about right, but he had no way to be sure. Everything seemed so mixed up, too much to decode just then, so he moved on.

"How am I here?"

Connie hesitated for a moment before she answered him. "Pearl brought you back the other night. My mom and I took care of you and brought you up here so that you could rest. How are you feeling?"

He didn't miss the way she'd changed the subject, but he didn't press her about it. "I feel fine," he answered automatically before he even considered it. It was a lie. The more he focused on it, the more he could feel the various aches across his body; he knew he'd have a hard time when he finally decided to get up.

Connie gave him an unconvinced smile that bordered on a grimace. She always saw right through him.

"Well, maybe not."

Her grimace deepened until she looked like she was in pain. It bothered him.

"I'm fine, really. Look, I'm still in one piece, aren't I?" He tossed the blankets off of himself, revealing his wholly intact body. Well, intact enough, he thought as he counted the number of bandages that littered his bare torso. His gem peeked out from under a patch of clean, white gauze, glinting in the muted sunlight. For a reason he couldn't quite pin down, the sight of it filled him with a strange sense of loss.

His attention was snatched away as Connie suddenly took his hand in hers. Her words seemed to catch for a moment before she finally forced them out. She spoke slowly, deliberately, as if she were weighing each syllable.

"Steven, I understand if you… don't want to talk about what happened, but I'm here for you. You know that, right? Whenever you feel ready, I'm here to listen." She squeezed his hand and breezed a kiss across his knuckles.

As he processed her words, it felt as if the earth had been snatched from under him. The only thing that kept him grounded was Connie's vice-grip on his hand as his mind whirled. She was right, but the idea of speaking it aloud in that moment felt completely off the table.

An irrationally strong urge to stay silent took over him, and his jaw locked shut. His body had taken over for him, sparing his mind from the torment by physically preventing it.

Connie was still staring into his eyes, a hint of concern creasing the corners of her mouth as he looked blankly back up at her. He knew he was being rude, but there was too much going on in his head for him to do anything about it. Just say yes, nod, anything! He tried to force some kind of reply out to stay her rapidly increasing worry, only to find that the muscles in his throat were painfully constricted.

He could only watch in a daze as comprehension dawned on her, and her face lit up in anxiety. Only when her arms wrapped around his shoulders did he realize that he was shaking.

"I'm so sorry, Steven," she whispered past the ringing in his ears as his chest trembled under hers. "Shhh, breathe." Her fingers stroked through his hair as she tried to soothe him, to no effect.

He was keenly aware at that moment that he was no longer in control of his body. He felt completely numb as he sat up, wrapping his arms around Connie and practically dragging her into his lap. His gaze absorbed itself on the corner of his dresser, allowing the edges of his vision to go black as he felt the sobs wracking his frame. His breath and tears were stifled against Connie's collar, intensifying as she squeezed him back.

The only thoughts in his head were reflections of the words being whispered into his ear, breathe, it's over, you're home. Over her shoulder, his eyes remained locked on the dresser, incessantly roving over each minute flaw in the wood grain.

Try as he might, he couldn't bridge the gap between his mind and his body enough to listen to her. The cries that tore from him were too loud, too uncontrolled. He felt embarrassed. He didn't even feel upset, and yet he was crying harder than he had in his entire life.

He realized that his breath was flowing far too quickly as his head began to spin and darkness grew from the edges of his vision.

Somehow, Connie picked up on it too. She leaned back in his grip, holding his face firmly between her palms. His gaze refused to leave its fixation until she tilted her face in front of him, and he was met with his reflection in her eyes. The word hysterical echoed in his mind, the only thought he could connect with the wild, unseeing stare he saw and the guttural noises tearing themselves from his throat.

His cries didn't slow or quiet as she pressed her forehead against his, in a gesture she clearly meant to be comforting. His reflection stayed in his vision as if it had been burned there, and he felt another wash of embarrassment. She must think I've completely lost it.

Through all of the noise he was making, he could hear Connie breathing. Long, slow, exaggerated breaths; in through her nose and out through her mouth in a steady rhythm for him to follow.

His body put up quite the struggle as he tried; his 'in' breaths were a choppy series of stunted gasps, and his 'out' breaths were rapid-fire pants. Though it wasn't anywhere near perfect, he was getting enough oxygen, and following Connie's breathing gave him something to focus on.

Slowly, his grip on her loosened and his cries slowed enough for him to breathe fully. One of Connie's hands left his face to run through his hair, brushing it back from his face, and the touch helped pull him back down to earth.

After a few moments of near calm, he buried his face in her neck, hugging her close in silent appreciation. In one fluid motion, Connie slid from his lap and coaxed him back down onto the bed, where he rested his head on her chest. Her breathing remained as steady as the heartbeat that thumped under his ear, and he found himself drowning in the rhythmic noise. The minutes ticked by into hours as they stayed that way, even as the sunlight glowed red and faded from the window.

Connie's fingers played idly in his hair as he finally cleared his throat. She looked down at him silently, full of patience as he collected himself.

"Um…how is everyone?" His voice sounded even worse than before, if that was possible.

Connie frowned before she replied, "Everyone's fine, don't worry." She hesitated for a moment as if there was more she wanted to say, but then she decided against it.

Steven felt a stab of guilt; she probably thought he was going to break down again if she said the wrong thing. Was she wrong, though? He wasn't entirely sure why he'd reacted that way before, and he was more than a little afraid of it happening again. Maybe it was too soon.

"Do I… have to see everyone right now? Or can I wait 'till tomorrow?"

Connie nodded vehemently as she replied, "Wait as long as you need, it's no problem at all. They don't even know you're awake right now, and I won't tell them if you don't want me to."

He thanked her silently then asked, a little nervously, "Will you stay with me?"

Her eyes melted. "Of course, Steven. I've been sleeping in here this whole time, I'm not going to leave you now. There's just one thing I have to do first, one minute."

With that she slid out from under his head and slipped out of the room. The sudden stillness and silence pressed in on him unexpectedly, and he felt a chill run down his arms. With the sunlight gone from the window, his room took on a dark grey tint, cold and dim.

Too cold, too grey, and the sheets were tangled too tightly around his ankles. A pathetic whimper slipped out as he fought the covers off and curled up at the top of the bed, rubbing his hands over his eyes. Connie had only been gone for a few moments, and he was already losing it.

Luckily, she chose that exact moment to slip back into the room, carrying an armful of plastic packages. She dropped them down in front of his feet on the bed with a sigh.

"I know it's not much, but I'll be able to cook you something more substantial tomorrow for sure. Oh, and here," She pulled two water bottles from the surprisingly deep pockets of her dress, setting those down for him as well. "Eat and drink up."

Looking down at the assortment of snack cakes and chips, he realized that he wasn't hungry in the slightest. He drank the water out of courtesy, but something about the colorful labels on the food made him feel sick.

Connie looked concerned, but she didn't push him about it as he moved all of the food onto his nightstand. Without another word, she climbed up next to him, and he let himself drift off to sleep with her fingers idly twirling in his hair.