Chapter 12
The garden was empty. For days, possibly weeks, he waited; assuring himself that Pink would come back to him when she was ready.
Hours upon hours he spent wandering listlessly through the winding paths, feeling as if a piece of him were missing. Abandonment stung him like a fresh wound.
The unchanging, star-blotted sky was of no use in telling the time.
What was Pink up to, without him? Pearl had finally gotten her wish, it seemed; she had Pink all to herself. He tried not to feel bitter at the thought.
When he got tired of walking, he would sit in front of the warp pad and wait. He held a fragile hope that she would come back for him. Surely, she missed him, if even just a little?
Her face flashed through his mind, smiling down at him lovingly. He could almost remember the smell of her floral perfume, soft and comforting. He longed to hear her ringing laugh one more time, if only to fill the silent void of space he found himself in.
The garden seemed a cursed and haunted place without her.
He told himself that she just needed space, and that when she came back things would be okay again.
.
His feet dragged pathetically as he made his way around the garden for the hundredth time, following the paths by muscle memory alone. The flowered bushes and reaching pothos were all familiar to him now, not a single detail of the place was unknown to him; his red, tired eyes barely looked up from the stone and dirt pathway.
Instinctually, his feet carried him to a far corner of the space. In the small clearing stood a tall, twisting tree whose branches sprawled out on every side. Dried, dead leaves covered the pavement below it, crunching as he walked to the tree's thick trunk.
He sat down in the cool shade, closing his eyes and sighing.
This was their tree. The first time they came here, he had found it. Pink was so excited to climb with him, and they had made so many happy memories up there together. Now, as he sat under its blotted canopy alone, he wondered if they'd ever get the chance to climb again together.
To his left, a thin branch sat broken on the ground; the same branch that had snapped off when Pink had tried to step on it to get into the tree.
An idea flashed on him, springing him into action. He grabbed the snapped branch as he stood and left the clearing.
…
Glass crunched under his back as he rolled over, shading his face from the glow of the warp pad. Hazily, he recollected his dream, trying to make sense of it. It felt like weeks had gone by, although he knew he had probably only slept for a few hours.
His empathetic powers seemed to be getting stronger from prolonged use, allowing him to see vast stretches of time all at once. The feeling was disorienting to say the least. He took a deep breath in, grounding himself in the present.
The room felt the same as it always did, cold and quiet, though it smelled horrendous from the sack of rotten fruits deteriorating in the corner. Crinkling his nose, Steven looked around the room. Broken glass sparkled on every inch of the stone floor, throwing tiny flecks of light onto the walls. He expected to find a pair of glowing pink eyes watching him from the corner nearest the door, but only plain stone met his gaze.
Spinel was gone. The sight of the empty corner shocked his body awake, and he sat up abruptly. A sick, dizzy feeling filled his head as his breath quickened, and his eyes flashed to the ground all around him. He scanned the floor, looking for anything he could use to escape. This was his only chance.
Grabbing the biggest shard of glass he could find, Steven began hacking at the roots tied around his feet. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and the sound of his haggard breaths echoed around the silent room.
Blood dripped from his palm where he held the glass, but he barely noticed the stinging cut as he dragged the makeshift blade back and forth on the thickest root he could grab. A tiny, green slit appeared through the root's tough skin, and he began to slice into the softer wick on the inside. It gave way under the blade with ease. Desperately, he drove the blade into his constraints, ignoring the growing flow of blood down his fingers. The root was almost completely severed; just a small slice of wood kept it together.
The glass slipped from his grasp as he hissed in pain, cradling his fist to his chest. His blade cracked in two on the stone, shining crimson. Clenching his teeth, he pried his curled hand open to see an angry gash straight through his palm. He whimpered as he tried to move his stiff fingers, causing more hot blood to gush down his wrist. A small glint of white shining beneath the red meat nearly caused him to faint. The sharpened glass had cut straight through his hand, and in his adrenaline-shot state, he hadn't felt it.
He lowered himself back to the cold floor, forcing his pounding head to clear. Thick streams of blood flowed freely from the wound, pooling on the ground. He was losing blood too fast, already he was feeling lightheaded. His healing powers weren't working, but he had to try.
The taste of metal filled his mouth as he licked his palm, focusing with all of his might on closing the fatal cut. Over and over, he ran his tongue over the separated skin, spitting blood out each time.
The gash shortened eventually, and his hand tingled uncomfortably as the skin stitched itself back together. A cut like this he could heal in an instant usually, but he was thankful to see any progress at all in his current state.
Feeling as if his hand had fallen dead asleep, he rolled onto his back, relieved. A marred, pink blemish was all that was left of half of his palm. The new skin stretched painfully as he flexed his fingers.
He held his buzzing head as he sat up again, shaken from the near-death experience. After all that Spinel had put him through, he almost killed himself by accident while she was gone. He could only imagine her reaction, coming back to find her prisoner dead, soaked in a pool of his own blood.
He needed to be more careful.
Looking down, he found the shard of glass, broken in two. Gently, he scooped them towards him, careful to keep his fingers away from the sharp edges. Either of the pieces were still bigger than any other shard scattered within his reach, he observed as he picked them up in his fingertips, holding them up to the light. Either of them would work.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck pricked, freezing him in place. He held his breath as he looked up to the warp pad, straining his ears.
Footsteps fell lightly on the ground above, growing louder as they got closer. Spinel was coming back.
Steven looked down at himself, the bloody shards of glass in his hands, and the small puddle of blood at his side. Panic rose like bile in his throat; there was absolutely no way he could explain his way out of this.
Thinking fast, he shoved the shards into his front pocket, and shifted his body to cover the blood. He practically sat in the puddle, the still-warm blood soaking into his jeans uncomfortably. As the trapdoor opened, he tried to wipe the blood from his forearm onto his shirt, blending the fresh blood into the old stains.
His hand then shot up to cover his face as the room lit up in the toxic pink glow emanating from the rectangular door frame. With the grinding sound of stone on stone, the door slid open to reveal Spinel, bearing the weight of several cardboard boxes and a burlap sack precariously balanced on top.
He tried to sit as naturally as possible as he watched her set the items down. She spoke over her shoulder at him as she busied herself with organizing.
"Good mornin', I brought you some stuff." She took a deep breath in, then huffed, "Gosh, that smells bad!"
Covering her nose, Spinel picked up the bag of liquefied fruits and carried it through the open door, disappearing around a corner. A flash of dim light brightened up the short hallway, and Steven knew she had just opened the trapdoor. A second later, the light dissipated, and Spinel came back in. The heavy door sealed shut behind her.
She smiled down at him, her hands balanced on her hips proudly.
"Now that that's taken care of, do you wanna see what I got you? I had to go reeeally far to get it, you wouldn't believe!"
She seemed so genuinely excited to show him, but he only frowned apprehensively at her. What kind of game was she playing now, acting all nice? The happy, excited tone of her voice rang in his memory like a ghost of the past; this is how Spinel used to be, excited and friendly. The only thing he had ever seen her get excited over now was hurting him, so whatever she had brought was obviously no good news for him.
Seeing his fearful glare, she waved her hand in the air flippantly, sighing. "It's nothing bad, I promise. It's food, look!" She turned and started rummaging around in the boxes.
It had been days since he had eaten anything, or had any water. Spinel hadn't brought anything since their last argument, and the rotten fruit wasn't exactly an option. Besides, she had moved the bag out of his reach; even if he wanted to try to find something edible in there, he couldn't.
The sound of crinkling caught his attention, and his back straightened to peek into the boxes. Spinel turned and held out a handful of plastic-wrapped foods with foreign letters splashed on the logos, and he could see more bags and snacks peeking out of the boxes.
She walked over and dropped the foods in front of him, then turned and started digging through the bag. She emerged with a myriad of glass and plastic drink bottles, various sodas and fruit juices.
Steven brushed off his shock and squinted at a bottle, trying to decipher where the drink had come from.
Plopping down on the floor next to him, she gestured to the packages and excitedly exclaimed, "Look! It's human food! I went to the other side of your planet so no one would recognize me, and I just grabbed all of the prettiest stuff. Whatcha think?"
Steven's eyes nearly swelled with tears as he spotted a spicy shrimp flavored bag of Chaaps. She really had been to Earth. It was like a sick insult, knowing she had gone all the way back to his home, where his family was, where she had stolen him from. Now, she was back here, trying to act as if they were friends.
His teeth ground together as he snapped at her, his eyes narrowed.
"Why?" His voice was barely raised above a whisper, but it was the first thing he had said to her since she had rejuvenated him a second time.
Her smile withered, breaking in the face of his cool anger. She ran an anxious hand over her hair as she replied, looking awkward.
"Well, you uh…you've seemed sad. Sadder than usual. I thought this might cheer you up! I know things here aren't, well, ideal, but I don't want you starving, so eat up!" She ended with a grand smile, gesturing to the feast of junk food.
Steven's mouth fell open in incredulous shock. What on earth was she talking about, 'sadder than usual'? He was a prisoner! She had tortured him, right after trying to fuse with him, and telling him that she had erased his family's memories!
He shook his head, gasping out, "Can you not think of a single reason why I might be upset? A single one? 'Cause I can name a few!"
Her hands flew up into the air as she shouted, "I know, I know! Look, Steven, I'm trying here. I went all the way to Earth for you, so please, just show a little gratitude."
He balked at her dismissive tone. 'Gratitude'? What was wrong with her?
He dropped the Chaaps, turning his head away from her. He wasn't going to play along in whatever horrible game she was trying to play with him. For all he knew, the food was poisoned, and she was only acting nice to trick him into eating it. He'd rather starve.
His ears pricked up as the boxes slid across the floor, stopping on his leg. The bag came next, clinking and sloshing with the various drinks. Staunchly, he ignored them.
Spinel sighed, complaining, "Gosh! You've always been so stubborn. Come on, it's fine! You need to eat, you're all white and shaky."
Little did she know, he was white and shaking from blood loss, though the starvation probably didn't help. A little voice in the back of his head piped up, reminding him of how on Earth people drank juice and ate cookies after donating blood. He swatted the thought away, refusing to even look at what else Spinel had brought from Earth. He let silence fill the room while he waited for her to give up and leave him alone.
After a few tense minutes, Steven nearly jumped as a loud groan burst from behind him.
"Piiiink! Come on-"
His head whipped around, venom lacing his voice as he seethed at her, "You know that isn't my name. I. Am. Not. Pink."
Her eyes widened at his heated outburst. She disagreed with him, he could tell, but she seemed to be trying to reign in her argumentative nature for whatever reason. She swallowed thickly, then looked down at the boxes.
"This looks…interesting. I've, uh, never eaten before, but here goes." She picked up a small, square package of clear plastic filled with colorful stars of sugar.
Steven cringed as he watched Spinel place the whole pack in her mouth still wrapped in plastic. Her disgusted expression would be comedic any other time, but all he felt was wary confusion as he watched her chew and swallow the whole thing, shivering. Why on earth was she acting so weird?
"That was…not good. Why do you humans eat so many things wrapped up like that?" She looked into the box filled with plastic packages, shaking her head in bewilderment.
Steven was not amused in the slightest.
"Why don't you leave me alone?"
Her thin lips pursed in thought as she hummed. She seemed like she almost didn't want to tell him why she had suddenly changed her tone, but in the end, she explained herself. "I have to help you remember yourself. I couldn't do that if I left you alone, now could I?"
His hands balled into fists in his lap as he gritted out, "Don't you think I've been trying that my whole life? All that anyone has ever wanted from me was for me to be her. So no, I don't think you'll get any farther than I have. It's a complete waste of time."
Spinel crossed her thin arms, her expression turning serious. "Well, luckily for us, we have plenty of time on our hands. One way or another, I'll help you to remember." She pleaded with her eyes as she continued, "I need you to remember."
So this was why she was acting so strange. She was getting desperate. Steven shook his head, staring through her with angry, mismatched eyes.
"I can't. I'm never going to remember. You need to accept that she'll never be back. Pink. Is. Gone." He turned his gaze away from her again, hoping she'd finally gotten the hint. He expected a loud outburst, or perhaps for her to return to sulking in the corner, but he got neither. She stayed rooted to the spot next to him, staring at the side of his head. Her silence and lack of reaction was really making him uncomfortable.
A pathetic, sniffling sound from next to him derailed his cold anger, and he looked over to see tears streaming down Spinel's black-streaked face. She seemed angry, and her thin bottom lip trembled as she tried and failed to reign in her emotions. Steven was amazed at how quickly she switched from happy to crying.
Her voice trembled as she stuttered, "You promised me, you promised you'd c-come back for me…"
Steven's eyes widened and his breath hitched; Spinel was finally opening up. He let her carry on, listening with rapt attention.
"I waited for you for so long. Now you're back, but you're not yourself. I brought you here so you could remember, and we could be together, like you promised." Her chest heaved with sobs as she broke off, hiding her face behind her gloved hands.
What did she mean, did Pink really leave her? He thought back to his dream. Pink had left her, but he didn't remember her promising to come back at all. She had fled in a fit of obvious terror, and then Spinel had wandered to the garden. Apparently, there was more to this story, and he'd have to figure it out. He was pulled from his musings as Spinel continued, nearly yelling.
"If you can just remember, you can tell me what happened. You can tell me why you forgot me! You left me here! I was alone for thousands of years, all by myself, waiting for you!" She slammed her fists down as she shouted desperately, a glint of her usual rage shining through her sorrow.
Her cries of anger morphed into heavy cries as she hung her head down, banging her fists into the floor.
It was the first time Spinel had broken down like this in front of him, Steven realized. She had no problem showing her anger, but she always seemed to hide her true feelings behind a facade of psychopathic glee.
Maybe it was a waste of time and effort, but maybe it wasn't too late to get out of this the classic Steven way. Swallowing his anxiety, he stretched out a cold hand to rest on her spiked pink sleeve.
She froze at his touch, staring at the floor as he spoke softly, comforting her.
"Spinel. I'm so sorry that Pink did that to you, but I don't know why she did it. She did so many things that I can't ever understand." He glared at the bare wall in front of him as he spoke, allowing the bitterness of a lifetime of uncovering lies to lace his voice.
His hand dropped to the floor as Spinel shifted, and he looked over to see her inquiring gaze locked with his. If what she had said was true, she had no clue of everything Pink had done in the last six thousand years. Maybe if she knew all of the horrible things Pink had done, she'd change her mind somehow.
"I had no idea I was Pink Diamond until just a couple of years ago. She lied to everyone, and started a war with herself; she cost thousands of gems their lives because she couldn't stand up for herself against the other Diamonds. In the end it was all for nothing, when she faked her own shattering and lived on as Rose Quartz. Pearl was the only one who knew." It felt good, to finally get his feelings out in the open. He couldn't say these things in front of the gems, or his dad.
"She destroyed so many gems, and lied to so many people, then just disappeared and left me to deal with her consequences." He gestured around him, then at the roots tying him to the floor, sighing. "I don't know what she did to you, but I know how you feel. You need to accept that she's gone, just like I had to. We'll never know why she did the things she did to us, we can only move on."
As if by example, he reached out and picked up the bag of shrimp potato chips, scanning the bright orange package placidly. The tension in the room was at a peak, and he needed a way to break it. Shrugging, he tore the bag open, relishing the wash of nostalgia that hit him. This bag, the air inside, and the chaaps were from Earth; he used to eat these all the time back home.
Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, he reached inside of the bag and pulled out an orange-dusted chip, popping it into his mouth.
Spinel stared at him blankly for a moment as he swallowed. The corner of her mouth twitched in an almost-smile as she whispered, "Oh. Out of the bag."
He held the bag up to her nervously, nodding his head in offer.
She pulled one out, and inspected it closely. Her nose scrunched as she ate it, obviously not enjoying the experience.
"That was better, but I still don't know why you humans eat stuff like that." She shivered again, wiping the residue of tears from her face and sniffing.
"We need it to live, you know that. Well, not chaaps, but food. It gives us energy to do things, and you know, to survive. I don't mind it." Steven shrugged as he looked around in the boxes to see what else he could try. Now that he had tasted some food, he realized how absolutely famished he was. Apparently, Spinel's definition of 'the prettiest stuff' was basically all candy. The idea of eating a box full of sugary candy on an empty stomach didn't sit well with him.
He reached down by his feet to dig through the bag, pulling out a pink bottle decorated with strawberries. It kind of looked like strawberry milk, so he decided to give it a shot. It was surprisingly good, although still quite sweet.
"Can you tell me more about her?"
Spinel's question startled him, making him spill his drink down the front of his shirt. She didn't seem to notice as she kept her eyes glued to his.
Flustered, he replied, "I, um, I don't really know that much about her. Like I said, she kept a lot of secrets."
Spinel nodded, looking away with a frown. Steven's heart panged with understanding. Back when he would ask about his mom, he would always get similar replies. That, or the conversation would be dismissed after a few kind words about how loving, how selfless Rose was. He never got the truth about her until he went and found out for himself.
"I'll tell you what I can. It's not much…but you should know the truth."
…
It was early afternoon, and the golden sunlight beamed in through the open windows. A pot on the stove bubbled away merrily, filling the beach house with the herbal scent of vegetable soup. Connie stood by, vigilantly stirring the rich broth every few minutes.
Greg sat and watched her numbly from atop a barstool. A night's rest, a shower, and a few hot meals had greatly improved his appearance, though nothing could clear up his tired, red-rimmed eyes.
This is how they had passed the last twenty-four hours, in peaceful near-silence. Aside from the short hour Connie had spent in the strawberry field earlier that day, she had stayed with Greg, trying her best to nurse him back to health. She could understand that she couldn't help him emotionally, but at the very least, she could keep him from starving.
With the soup finished, Connie scooped healthy portions into two bowls, then sat down at the bar next to her guest. Together, they shared a quiet meal, filling the silence with the clinking of their spoons against glass.
A light knock at the door signaled to Connie that their guest had finally arrived, and she hopped down from the barstool to greet her. A warm, motherly smile and the smell of wet paint met her as she opened the door.
"Thank you so much for coming, Vidalia." Connie lowered her voice to a whisper, mindful of Greg's curious gaze on his old friend. "I hope we aren't asking too much, he's just really not been doing well, and there's only so much I can do for him alone."
Not bothering with soft-speak, Vidalia laughed kindly, marching over to the bar and slapping Greg's slumped shoulder.
"Anything for a friend! I've got Sour Cream on babysitting duty for now, cause it looks like I've got a bigger baby to sit!" She playfully poked at his ribs with her elbow, attempting to elicit a laugh, and failing miserably. "Well, maybe I'll just set up a playdate between you and Onion, and see what kind of trouble the two of you make, huh?"
Connie gave a sad little smile, knowing that Vidalia would probably give up on trying to cheer him soon. Though, by the way she picked right back up and kept at it, she just might prove her wrong in the end. Either way, Vidalia was a much more capable caretaker than Connie or any of the gems were, and she was eternally grateful for the help.
"I really can't thank you enough. Hopefully, everything will work out soon. We're getting so close, we just have to keep at it." She turned her eyes from Vidalia to Greg, who seemed put-out as he connected the dots. Not wanting to sugarcoat too much, she addressed him.
"Mr. Universe, we're going to get him back soon. I just need you to go with Vidalia, and hang on until that happens. We're all trying our hardest, and there's still scout teams out searching; it won't be long. I promise. For now, Vidalia is going to take care of you." She held his calloused hands in hers, looking apologetically into his eyes. She only hoped he could find some comfort or reassurance in her words.
Without any warning, Connie found herself tangled in a rib-cracking embrace. A sniffle sounded next to her ear, followed by Greg's voice, choked with emotion.
"Thank you."
The tearfully whispered words wrenched painfully at her heart, and she returned the embrace. A moment passed and they broke apart, wiping stray tears from their cheeks.
With squared shoulders and a set jaw, Greg nodded to Vidalia. He was ready to go. The last thing he wanted was to be a burden, especially to those people who were his son's only hope. Whatever he needed to do to help, he'd do it.
A few words were exchanged, and then Connie was waving goodbye to the pair as they disappeared around the edge of the temple's cliff. She breathed a big sigh of relief knowing that Greg would be well taken care of, and that she could focus all of her time on Steven and Pearl.
The sun dipped behind the horizon, shimmering in a bright red across the ocean waves. Warm breeze blew her hair across her face. In another time, she and Steven would have set up a picnic somewhere to enjoy such a beautiful sunset together. It would have been so lovely.
A buzzing in her pocket made her jump in alarm, snapping her mind away from such depressing fantasies. Her breath quickened as she pulled her phone out to see Peridot's name flashing across the screen.
Answering the call, Connie was met with the shrill sound of Peridot's panicked voice.
"Connie, we need you at Little Homeworld, now! My satellites just caught something, and you'll want to see it!"
She took a moment to process, then quickly replied, "I'm on my way."
Hanging up the phone, she turned back to the house to grab her bag, then she made her way down to the beach. Parked along the side of the sandy cliff she found Steven's Dondai, and she climbed in. Though the car wasn't officially his yet, Greg had made it clear that it was intended as a seventeenth birthday present for his son. She had learned how to drive in this car, and in his absence, Connie was sure Steven wouldn't mind her using it.
She rounded the corner to Little Homeworld, and parked by the observatory where Peridot usually spent her time. She was met at the door by a flushed Peridot, her face lit up by several floating devices encircling her head. She poked and swiped at them as they passed her, typing in little bits of data and chewing her already-short nails.
The small green gem turned and ranted as Connie followed her up the spiral staircase to the roof.
"We caught it just an hour ago, on satellite 73H, over Asia. It came from the direction of homeworld, stayed on the ground for thirty-two minutes, then took off again, back in the same direction. We lost signal from it just as it left this galaxy cluster, but I've directed the scout teams to search in that trajectory. Here." She held open the wide door at the top of the stairs, not breaking eye contact with her screens.
Connie's head spun as she entered a room built like a giant glass bubble, with a high, clear ceiling and rounded walls. Littered around the room were short steel tables covered in computers and experimental trinkets she could only guess the purpose of.
Amethyst leaned against the desk Lapis was sitting on top of, with Pearl standing just behind them. She looked deeply troubled as she stared at the floor with crossed arms. Connie quickly approached her, sensing her distress.
"Amethyst, what's wrong? Peridot said something about an object in Asia, or something? What's she talking about?"
"It's her." Amethyst's eyes were blazing with anger as she spoke.
Connie gasped, "How do you know? Can you-did we get a picture of it? I mean, of her?"
Peridot paused in her pacing to approach, pushing one of her tablets through the air until it landed in her hands. The photo was blurry, but she could make out a round, shiny object that seemed to be moving at high speeds, if the blur was any indication. Though the photo was mostly monochrome, she could make out the slightest tint of red, or pink, on the object. At Peridot's direction, she swiped onto a video.
The object was definitely pink, Connie realized as she watched a grainy video of the sphere zipping over the tops of a group of trees. The clip was short, but from Amethyst's previous descriptions, this was definitely the ship that Steven was taken in.
"She landed near a big city in-" Peridot checked her notes, "China. We don't know what she did there, but she did it quickly. By the time I got the alert, she was already gone."
Silence fell over the room, heavy and foreboding. Lapis was the first to voice the question everyone must have been wondering.
"Why China? I mean, I guess I'd go to the opposite side of the planet if I knew everyone was looking for me, but what the heck could she even do there?"
Being the only human in the room, the answer seemed obvious to her. The only thing was, why had it taken so long?
"I think she went to get supplies. Things you can only get on Earth, like food and drinking water. But, Steven's been gone for a few weeks now, there's no way he'd survive that long without eating or having water. So, why'd she wait so long?" Nobody seemed to have an answer for her.
She burned to know how Steven was doing. The thought of him starved and tortured and who knew what else sent a shiver down her spine. Her eyes drifted down to the video clip again, watching the pink sphere fly across the same patch of forest over and over, and she was overcome with anger.
Whoever this twisted-minded gem was, she was taunting them. She slipped right under their noses to invade their home again, and escaped before they had even noticed her.
Suddenly she was sickened by the video, and she threw the tablet down on the desk as if it had burned her. Without a word to the shocked gems, she turned her heel and stormed out of the observatory. Their eyes burned into her back as she slammed the door behind her. Bismuth was walking into the building as she left, but she didn't stop to talk as she brushed past.
Time blurred in her eyes as she found herself behind the wheel of a car, Steven's car, and she was whipping through Beach City. The streets were empty and darkened in the dusk, and street lights flickered to life as she flew past.
The temple came into view, and she drove on, her body running on autopilot as her mind reeled numbly.
She walked across the beach, towards the dark outline of a glass monolith exploding outwards from the landscape. The huge, solid structure stood as a bleak reminder of the horrors that had occurred here, but she had been purposely ignoring it whenever she passed.
Up until now, she had been pushing away her rage and fear, focusing instead on the task of finding Steven. They weren't any closer to finding him, and knowing that his captor had been so close was just too much for her. She pushed herself between two smooth columns, sliding down into a pool of soft white sand that had blown into the shallow basin.
From the center, one might call this structure pretty, but all that Connie could think about was Steven. Here, right here in the middle of this crater, was the last place he had been on Earth. She closed her eyes, imagining the pink sphere with him inside, blasting off into space. He had been hurt, nearly killed, and he was probably so scared.
Connie could feel her resolve breaking. She knew it had to happen sometime; she knew she wasn't going to be able to hold it in forever. Her chest felt heavy with overwhelming dread as she stared straight up at the spires glittering in the moonlight, so calm. She hadn't been there. Even now that she was here, she was useless enough to let that insane gem come back to Earth and leave untouched. It wasn't fair.
How could something so beautiful come from the most horrific violence? Connie's unfocused gaze landed on a smaller spire that jutted out from the edge of the crater, blackened and sharp, and she was filled with single-minded rage.
A shriek of anguish tore from her as she flew towards the column, rearing her fist back. She landed her punch with a solid crack, shattering her own knuckles on impact. She fell to her knees in the sand to find the glass hadn't even chipped.
She cradled her unmoving fingers to her chest as she leaned her forehead against the structure, feeling its coolness on her skin. Labored cries ripped from her throat uncontrollably, reverberating on the smooth glass. Her own yells of pain and sorrow echoed back at her, as if the monolith itself was mocking her.
She lay there, sobbing in the crater until she lost her voice. Her lungs screamed for air as she heaved in breaths between pained cries, and her nose ran continuously into the sand beneath her.
What seemed like hours passed, though her hazy awareness blurred the lines. Eventually, her tears dried up, and she was left with a pounding head and burning eyes staring blankly up at the stars. Sand stuck to the side of her face and body as she rolled onto her back, groaning as she saw her swollen, black knuckles. She'd have to go see her mom tomorrow.
For now though, she decided to stay in the sand, gazing up at the sky, imagining Steven out there. He was waiting for help, and she'd be damned if she didn't deliver. She had let him down twice now, and she refused to do it again.