'Sup people! Here were are, with Part 3 of this eternally long fic!
Well, at least for me it is. I've been busy, job hunting, studying, and writing other projects BUT i havent abandoned this fic yet. Not when we are so close to the final line.
As i said before, Part 3 is gonna be shorter than the others. WAY SHORTER in fact, only TWO chapters left not counting this one.
I dont have much left to say except thank you for the people that have been reading this. I really appreciate that you all took the time.
With nothing to add, enjoy!
Part 3: New Eyes and New Colors
"Life is filled with unanswered questions, but it is the courage to seek those answers that continues to give meaning to life. You can spend your life wallowing in despair, wondering why you were the one who was led towards the road strewn with pain, or you can be grateful that you are strong enough to survive it."
― J.D. Stroube, Caged by Damnation
BUZZ…BUZZ…
Steven turned in his sleep, not ready to wake up yet. The buzzing and the accompanying song were familiar, but he couldn't say from where.
BUZZ…BUZZ…
He turned over and over; shaking with every move as he slowly came to his senses. In a sudden move, he hit his knee with the back of the bed; the pain acting as an instant wake up call. He opened his eyes to find he was nearly at the end of the bed. So tired he was last night, he simply passed out horizontally over the sheets. No wonder he was so cold.
BUZZ…BUZZ…
"Coming, coming," said Steven and sat on the bed, covering his back with the sheets.
He picked his phone from the table, not bothering to look before picking up.
"Whozzit?"
"Steven?"
It took him a moment to remember that, yes, he was Steven, and even longer to remember who the other person was. "Connie?"
"Finally! Since you didn't answer my texts I thought of calling you. I didn't wake you up, did I?" Connie added, a bit hesitant.
"Oh no. No, no I, uh, woke up hours ago. I was just in the shower."
"Cool," she said. "So… how was the party? Your first adult party away from home! Spill all the details, Universe."
Steven recalled texting Connie before the party last night. Too bad he didn't take any photos there.
"It was OK. You know, strangers, drinking, and lousy band that won't make it pass one-hit-wonder-" He stopped until the throbbing in his head receded. "That kind of stuff. I left after a few minutes."
Connie chuckled. Her laugh usually brightened Steven's day. Today it felt like being head butted in the head by Jasper.
"Really? And are you sure you didn't stay up late?"
"Psst, what? Nooo…" said Steven. "Why would you-"
Connie's laugh cut him up. "Steven, you are SO hangover. Your voice is super hoarse right now."
Oh Stars. Steven was hangover. That would explain why everything was so loud, so big, and he wanted nothing more than to throw himself on the bed until he disappeared inside the mattress.
"W-well you don't know that," Steven replied, getting heated up. "Maybe my voice is raspy because someone woke me up too early, miss Early Worm."
"Worm? Do you… do you mean Early Bird?"
"Yeah, that," he said, even more flustered.
"Well, I hate to break it to you but… it's not early."
"What do you mean?"
"Check up your phone."
Steven did so. 12:32 PM was the time. He jumped out of the bed, but since his legs weren't as alert as his head, he face-planted on the floor. Determined, he ignored the pain and flew towards the window and opened the curtains wide.
Big mistake. Biggest of Steven's life, right there next to shattering Jasper and drunk-driving. The world became a shapeless flash as the noon sunlight invaded the room. Steven backed away from the window, once again falling over and landing on his butt.
He ignored the pain and tried to shield his face with his hands, but even with his eyes closed he could still see a white blotch, so he summoned a bubble around him. As the light hit the bubble it was filtered in a dark pink hue, more forgiving to Steven's eyes. He sighed, eyes watering. He stretched his arm outside the bubble and brought the phone inside, and was assaulted by Connie's panicked shouting.
"Steven! Are you al-"
"I'm fine, Connie. I'm fine!"
"But you screamed. What happened?"
"It was the sun."
"What about it?"
"It burnt me!"
Connie held her breath. "Did you just blinded yourself with the sun, you goof?"
"Yes!" said Steven, matter-o-factly. "I thought it was earlier…Oh man, I oversleep so badly."
"Oversleep?" Connie voiced her surprise. "Steven, you can't 'oversleep' on a road trip. You can wake up at any time you want. Not to mention you're on your own. Wasn't that the point of the whole trip?"
Steven played with the hem his shirt —or what was left of it since the incident last night. "You don't get it. I had this whole plan made, a schedule of all the things I wanted to do and see."
"I know. You showed it to me. Several times."
"Yes and I have to stick to it. I just, I don't know, don't wanna miss a thing. This trip has to be perfect."
He felt dumb as he was saying it. Connie must've though so too, by her laugh.
"Sorry Steven but… That's a little silly. I like schedules as much as the person next to me —which technically would be you, depending on how you see phone communication," said Connie and Steven could tell she was this close to start rambling about the metaphorical closeness the phone-talking.
Stars, he missed her so much.
"But a road trip is all about freedom. Going to new places, doing new things. Meeting interesting people. You can wake up whenever and do whatever. Or nothing at all! Not doing anything sounds great to me."
"But my schedule-"
"I have a schedule," she retorted. "A meticulous, color-coded schedule. But you've freedom".
Steven stared at the ceiling through the pink colored bubble. There was a sadness in Connie's voice that crushed his heart. She missed him as much as he missed her —maybe more, since she wasn't on a fantastic road trip like he was. That was the problem. More than miss him, she wanted to be there with him. Not just on a few hours visit with Lion, but to travel with him. So many times Steven wanted to ask her to join him and he didn't dare. What if she'd said no? Worst, what if she'd said yes? Connie has been amazing these last few months. She'd been for him 24/7, helping him get back on his feet after his incident. She truly has been his rock (no pun intended).
So no, Steven couldn't ask her to come. What for? To do all that over and over again? What if he lost it and did something stupid in the middle of a panic attack? If Connie had been with him yesterday, maybe none of these events would've happened; but she deserved more than to be Steven's emotional clutch forever.
After his transformation, Steven had learnt how to lean into others for help. Now, he'd to learn how to be alone. Take care of himself. Be happy. And he'd to do it solo.
So here they were now, talking on the phone, several miles apart. He hated it and she hated it. But that's how things had to be.
"It's just…" he began, trying to put his feelings into words. "There is so much I want to do."
"And you're going to do it. You're going to go out and have the adventure of your life. And you'll be fine. You want to know why?"
"Why?"
"Because you're Steven Universe."
The meaning of her words slowly crept in. Of course he was. That name carried a whole lot of baggage. Most of it was bad, but there were some bright spots here and there. Connie made sure to always remind him so.
He felt his chest inflating with pride and joy. "Thanks. I guess I needed that," he said. "Gosh, how do you always know what to say Connie? You're so smart and pretty and perfect and pretty and pretty-"
"Steven!" Connie said, scandalized. "You said pretty three times."
"Because you're Connie Maheswaran, and you're very pretty."
She laughed again and this time it felt like clear water on a wound in Steven's brain. It hurt, but it was refreshing.
"Alright you goof, just take care of yourself. AND take it easy with the bottle the next time, please."
"Easy for you to say, you're the one holding my brain cells."
"No refunds! Your precious brain cells are mine now!"
They were sent into a fit of giggling, like they were children again. They were so close, yet so far too. It was weird, but they'll survive.
Steven spoke with a hint of sadness. "Well, I've to go. Need to wash my face and my teeth and my… everything. I have to look like a person again before I hit the road."
"Smart. Wouldn't want the cops to pull you over for looking hangover."
"Yeah we wouldn't want that," Steven bit his lip to keep the bad thoughts inside. Now wasn't the moment for a recount of yesterday's events. "Well. I guess this is it then."
"This is it."
"Thanks for calling."
"It was nothing. I like talking to you. Remember, text me when you're in Florida."
"Three days top. Promise."
"Can't wait."
Steven had to hang up, he just had momentarily forgotten how.
"Well... See you soon then-"
"I love you," Connie said in a rush and hung up, probably sensing that Steven wasn't going to. Silence weighted like lead now he was alone. Just Steven and his ol' reliable bubble. He was so tired. Maybe he could stay inside; rest his eyes, just for a few minutes…
"Is this something you do often?" asked uncertainly Dr. A.
"What do you mean?"
Dr. A. tapped the side of Steven's bubble with her pen.
"Ooh, you mean this bubble," said Steven and turned around on the bubble to give his therapist a side glance.
It was pretty uncomfortable, sitting on the bubble on top of the couch. He'd summoned it the moment he stepped into Dr. A's office, and has refused to talk at all. Today was weird.
"It feels right, I guess," he said. Dr. A. hummed and write extensively on her notebook, nose wrinkling.
Steven hated when she did that. He felt observed, even though he knew she couldn't see him.
"Its fine to me," she said, although she didn't mean it. "But just so you know, it's a little awkward being on the outside of a one-sided bubble."
"I know," he said.
Steven didn't elaborate, and he wasn't planning to. Dr. A. waited for a while before she finally gave up and dropped her notebook over the table.
"It's your time."
The memory shook Steven to the core. Bubbling himself, hiding from the rest of the world inside the one-sided sphere, was a bad habit of his. Many times after his incident he'd found comfort in his bubble —sometimes for hours straight. Slowly, and with support from his family and therapist, he'd beaten the habit down. Today was a weird day though, and the temptation to shoo the world away in his comfort sphere was too big.
POP went the bubble as it was banished when Steven stood up. He regretted it immediately; being on two legs was a constant pain. He backtracked until he felt onto bed, making it creak. He was content, but he knew he couldn't stay in bed forever, unless he wanted to pay for another day at the motel —which he didn't.
I've got to get outside, he thought. Fresh air and sunlight will fix me up for good.
But it didn't. Movies and TV shows don't really prepare you for everything a hangover entails. Steven felt there was a whole team of tiny people drilling their way out of his skull, at different places at once, sending pain to his neck and down his back. Keeping his eyes open for more than a few second was torture. And his stomach? He didn't have one. Everything he'd eaten or drank last night had risen to his chest, waiting to be expelled from Steven's body. There were also the tremors but those might be because of the day. Last night was particularly chilly, and today had followed through; a sign that winter was just around the corner.
BAMN! Steven bolted up from his position over the balcony railing. A man had came out from the room next to his own, and unlike Steven, he seemed well rested and happy to be alive. He was two steps down the stairs when he turned to Steven, his smile condescending.
"Tough night?" the man asked.
"More like tough morning."
The man snorted, finding Steven suffering all too funny. Once he was at ground level, the man spoke again.
"Hey kid, is this your car?"
Steven looked at the wrecked, piece of junk on the motel parking lot. His eyes opened wide and his heart skipped a beat. Oh Stars! That's my piece of junk!
The Dondai was in one piece, and that's about all that was good about it. The left back light was busted and lost, and the front, roof and both sides had so many dents it might require a Homeworld engineer and a priest to patch it up. Let's not even mention it was parked diagonally over three lots.
Steven shrieked like a kitten in distress and walked down the stairs. At least the first two steps; then he trip over and rolled the rest of the way down. Physically, he was fine, thanks to his half-gem body. Emotionally, he was devastated.
The other man shook his head at Steven's form on the floor. "Jesus Christ kid. Didn't you ever hear 'don't drink and drive'?"
In a true Gem fashion, Steven lunged forward and growled the man. He shrugged it off and muttered. "Weirdo."
Then put his helmet, got on his bike and drove away from the motel, leaving Steven alone in the parking lot.
I don't think he checked out, he thought before bracing himself and walking to his car.
The damage wasn't that bad from up close. Sure, the body was all dented and bent out of shape in many places, and there was the matter of the busted light and cracked windshield but structurally speaking, it was as solid as ever.
Steven got inside the car before noticing he didn't brought the keys with him. And he couldn't have brought them, since they were peacefully hanging from the keyhole. Steven went rabid.
That's just great. How come nobody stole my car? He thought and then mentally backtracked. On second thought, I should be happy the garbage collector didn't pick it up.
Steven flipped the key. The engine came to live immediately. At least the battery's charged up. He parked the car right, taking up only one lot, and then he turned it off. One less problem. He recalled keeping some ibuprofen on the glove compartment, which would solve yet another problem. He reached to grab it when he saw something that made him freeze.
Blood. In the passenger seat, the console, and in the spot where Soledad's head had hit the windshield. The car was dripping red. The smell, which Steven had attributed to himself at first, was nauseating. Steven pushed opened the door open and threw his head down. A spit of vomit came out of his mouth and felt into the floor but that was about it, hurting his throat put without any relief to his nausea. Now's not the time to throw up. Keep it together, Steven. After a few seconds breathing, he got to keep the vomit down —for now at least.
Thinking fast, he picked his jacket from the backseat. It wouldn't be of any use, however. There was as much blood on the jacket as on the windshield.
Steven went out of the car and into his room. The subsequent events felts as blinks in time, as memories from the night before passed before his eyes.
Blink. He was in the motel room's bathroom. The Dondai crashed against a police patrol.
Blink. He was wetting a rag in the sink. The Dondai speeded over the route.
Blink. He was dashing down the motel stairs two steps at the time. The car made leaps in the air, landing on its wheels every time.
Blink. He was scuffing the blood from the windshield but it wasn't coming out. The car made a sudden motion the seatbelt couldn't measure against. Soledad head hit the windshield.
Blink. The blood was finally gone from the windshield. Soledad immobile shape lied on the passenger seat.
Blink. He was crying. Steven touched Soledad's forehead and she opened her eyes, bringing her back from the edge of the abyss.
Blink.
Steven's back hit the seat. He'd been crying for a few minutes now, but he was finally falling back into the horrible, horrible real world.
The spare shirt he'd used as rag was on his lap, completely soaked and wetting his pants. The car was clean, however. All blood was gone from the windshield and the console. The seat would require a deeper wash, but he'd reduced the red blob to a few scattered red spots.
Once again he felt back into the breathing exercises. In and out. In… out… The beating of his heart slowed down, even if his hands were still shaking. That's better, he thought. Maybe I could get to the motel and clean myself up now.
Steven opened the door when a black blur came at him at terminal speed. He closed the door and felt back into the passenger seat just in time. A giant black dog lunged into the door from the outside. He was all black, with a white spot around his right eye. Eyes which, by the way, were filled with bloodlust.
"Wow! You are a very big boy," Steven blurted. "Hey, I-I really don't want more trouble-"
The dog didn't seem to like what he said —or maybe he just didn't like Steven's face— because his snarling intensified. He barked incessantly, showing rows of white teeth and spitting drool on the window. Steven began to sweat and the light began to expand in his belly. Sooner or later the dogs barking was gonna attract attention and Steven absolutely couldn't deal with that now. And all that noise only increased Steven's mind-splitting headache.
"Would you shut up!"
The Dondai was shaken. The dog went silent. Even Steven covered his mouth, surprised by the force of his voice.
In any case, it worked. Problem is it worked too well; the dog was wincing and shaking like he'd been kicked, breaking Steven's heart in half.
"Oh no. No, no it's OK, buddy." Steven opened the door and, gathering his strength of will and body, stood straight, trying to look normal-ish. "See? I'm just a regular person. Nothing weird here. And now I'm gonna pet you, like a normal person would…"
He stretched his arm as the dog stood a little higher, reaching to meet the boy's hand, when a angry, raspy, not-at-all-friendly voice came over:
"Killer! Come over here stupid animal!"
Both Steven and the dog recoiled, and the animal whined and ran away from the voice. By getting inside Steven's car. Steven was about to protest when a door slam made him jump. A man came out from the motel reception. He must be around Steven dad's age, but while Greg had stored the years in the gut department, this man had accumulated the mass in his chest. Steven remembered him as the innkeeper and he looked like he was only missing a stormy cloud over his head; and of course, he was approaching Steven —because that was Steven's luck.
"Hey you kid! Wait a second," he shouted and Steven could almost see the vile coming from his mouth. His aura wasn't pretty to look at.
Steven glanced at the car; the dog had hid on the floor, his aura quivering with fear. Wish I could do that, Steven thought.
The Innkeeper stopped in front of him. "You're the kid from the 4B. Esteban?"
"Steven, actually."
"Close enough." The man said, already bored with this conversation. "Have you seen my dog?"
His dog? Steven then saw the chain leash on the Innkeeper's hand, and the way his aura bubbled with rage. Ah. That made sense.
"And how does this 'dog' looks like, exactly?" Steven asked.
"It's a Doberman."
Steven blinked several times. The Innkeeper sighed. "It's a black dog with a white patch on his eye."
"Huh-uh. And when did you lost it exactly?
"Five fucking minutes ago!" the Innkeeper shouted. "But I'm not surprised. That dog has always been a little shit. Never in its life has it done what I told him to. Dogs are just not the same anymore. I remember my pa had a German Shepherd. Best beast in the world. Didn't put him through the shit that waste of skin of mine puts me through, you know?"
Steven nodded, getting the mental picture of what was happening. The Innkeeper lifted his head to peek behind Steven, and his brows furrowed even deeper.
"Ah so this is your car-"
"You know what?" Steven rushed to say, sensing the impending discussion. "I did saw that dog."
"Really? Where?"
"He… ran off. You just missed it. He went…" Steven lifted his hand towards the route. "That way."
"You're shitting me."
"I'm absolutely not."
The man's aura grew even redder. "The nerve of that asshole! I should let him get rolled over by a truck. Oh, but he ain't escaping me so easily. Pay a fortune for the fucking bitch…"
The Innkeeper continued to ramble as he headed down the road, without a single 'thank you' to Steven. Once the man was out of sight and hear, Steven opened the door. The dog ('Killer', apparently) jumped out. He sniffed the air, probably sensing his master was here.
Steven's heart melted at the animal confusion. "Poor thing. You're not a killer, aren't you?"
Tentatively, he stretched his arm, waiting to see any reaction of the dog. When he didn't try to bite Steven's arm off, Steven patted his head. And there was the tail wiggle of approval. It was like a balm to Steven's soul.
"Good dog."
Steven went back inside the car, grabbed the wet shirt, his jacket, the ibuprofen and… what do you know! He'd some antacids inside the console too. That'll patch Steven's belly for real.
He said his farewell to the dog and began the walk back to his room. Midway up the stairs, he felt a presence behind him.
Steven turned to face the animal. "Oh no, you don't. You're not following me into my room, you hear me?"
Killer tilted its head one side, then another, in that way dogs do when they had not a clue what's happening and that was so goddamn cute.
"Go away. Run while your master is out. I won't help you. I have MY own problems, you know?" Steven insisted, and then stopped because he was trying to speak reason with an animal.
Of course he always spoke like that with Lion, but that was different. Lion was magical. Killer was just a dog.
Steven kept his march, looking back every step to make sure Killer was in place. Satisfied, he opened his door. Killer went inside first, getting under Steven's legs. Steven wanted to scream but reined it in. He was too tired to argue.
This day's off to a great start, he thought bitterly as he closed the room door behind him.
Ta dah! Poor Steven, i do love to stress him out. But his suffering is close to an end.
Remember, only two chapters left. Next one is gonna be the longest, and the last one is a sort of epilogue, so stay tuned!
And as always, like and comment if you liked it.
