A/N: Aaanndd we're back in Containment Unit 6. It turned out a little darker than I intended? You've been warned.
Sapphire is used to seeing bizarre things, at this point. Disturbing things, too; over the centuries she's become decidedly numb to seeing the many ways in which someone's gem can be destroyed. Death for a gem is somewhat abstracted in most cases, due to their regenerative abilities, but at the end of the day it is nevertheless a part of the cycle of existence. The universe is constantly recycling itself, and a shattered gem just becomes another contribution to the pile.
Besides, ever since the Diamond Authority found and forcibly conscripted her to answer future oriented inquiries for them, lo those many years ago, Sapphire has seen a lot more death and destruction. The possibility of anarchy and planet-wide demise hardly fazes her anymore. All she does now is acknowledge the possibility, and then look for the way to skirt around it (there is always a way). Even her own death; she's seen it hundreds of times, always different. She knows it will happen one day, but she's too familiar with the concept to fear it anymore.
As such, Sapphire doesn't expect the Diamond Authority's tenth question of the day to be unique. It's a fairly standard inquiry about procedures and possible policy changes. She already has four of the most likely possible outcomes typed out in reply, but she has the feeling that she is missing something important. Sapphire sits back in her communications chair and closes her eyes as she sinks into a meditative state; it's the easiest way for her to engage her future vision.
What she gets doesn't come in clearly, which happens pretty often. The vision presents itself as snippets of sight and flashes of emotion, jerking her to and fro between them, rarely coinciding. The vision grips her, clenching and clenching until she truly feels the agony of being ripped apart, and the raw gaping wound that's left behind. The panic that grips her with icy claws. The urge to scream builds up in her throat.
When she slams back into the present, Sapphire yelps. She jerks so hard that she and her chair tumble to the metal ground.
Ruby, who had presumably been pacing off to the side out of boredom, startles and scrambles over. "Whoa—what happened? Are you okay?"
Sapphire smacks away the hand that offers to help her to her feet. She manages to keep her expression stoic as she places the chair upright. She's forcing herself to breath normally, but that scream is slowly uncoiling itself in her throat. She's not going to be able to keep this up much longer.
"Get out," she says quietly. Her fingers are squeezing the back of the chair so hard she swears she's denting it, and she's not looking up. She can't. Not right now.
Ruby is not terribly quick on the uptake. "What? Why? What's going on? I've never seen you like this."
"I'm not going to go insane or wreck anything," Sapphire says, still keeping her eyes down. The careful control she usually has over her tone is wavering, she can hear it. "I just need you to leave this room."
"I-I can't do that. My orders are to—"
"I don't care what your orders are. I have to be alone." Even if Ruby reports this, it isn't going to matter. As far as Sapphire knows, she is the only one with future vision; the Diamond Authority isn't going to do anything harmful to their own personal oracle because it would be self-destructive.
And if she's wrong, and she's killed anyway—well, it was going to happen eventually.
"Sapphire, you're not stable right now. I can't in good conscience—"
"I said get out!" Sapphire knocks the chair over because it feels like the only thing that's still keeping her from utterly losing it. She's not surprised when her knees buckle and she's forced to crumple to the floor, clutching large chunks of her own long hair because it's distracting her from the fact she can still feel herself being wrenched apart. "Please," she whispers. "Stand outside the door, for all I care. I'm not trying to escape. I just need to… to…" Sapphire doubles over and presses her face into her knees. She's whole, she's fine, there's nothing wrong—except she's shaking everywhere, and she is unstable and bloated like she's about to burst at the seams.
What is wrong with her? It was just a vision.
For once, Ruby doesn't say anything. Sapphire feels the pressure of her eyes for the longest time before finally—finally—the door closes, and she is alone.
In her head, that's when she screams. She screams and screams and screams. She screams so hard that it almost begins to feel like she is being ripped apart after all, and it leaves her shaking harder than ever. The sensation of losing an integral part of her being still hasn't left her, still makes her want to panic and sob and destroy something, all at the same time.
What kind of vision was that?
The feelings are real, but while she's screaming on the inside the only sound that actually leaves Sapphire's lips is that old, familiar melody. It's her only way to talk sense into herself. If anyone hears her now, they won't be able to say for certain that she feels this broken and jagged; all they are going to know is that she can sing, and that's no real secret.
The sound is shaky and soft at first, warring with the desire to shout and shriek like a banshee, but as she settles into it her voice swells. In time that song calms her down, just like it always does.
The song fades away as Sapphire presses her forehead into her knees and hugs herself. She closes her eyes and tells herself to breathe. She'll get back to work soon, but she just needs a minute. Just one more minute.