juice_factory | Crystal Lite AU

Crystal Lite AU

In the years since the Crystal Gems were last seen, things have gotten... interesting, in the Universe family. Monsters don't stop attacking the temple simply because its inhabitants are gone, and dangerous artifacts don't stop threatening humanity. The last remaining remnant of the Crystal Gems is one little boy, without any proper magical guidance or teachers of his heritage to show the way. What he has left to him is a handful of abandoned relics to piece together hints, and the secondhand experience of his very ordinary, very overwhelmed father.

They get by. His powers are growing, slowly but steadily. With each new ally or ability they uncover, things get a little better. It's never easy, but it's not as hard. And they've always got each other to count on, no matter what. So long as they've got that, there's nothing in the universe that can stop them.... though it does try.

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No. He needs to do better than that; that's not an answer -- not even one that begins to make sense. She could tell that from the mirror; he's leaving her no more informed than she was before.

The corners of her mouth tighten. "You want me to trust you. You want me to do something for you. I need answers. I need--"

She's made a mistake, feet automatically shifting in the sand towards more of a defensive stance. She's still wobbly, limbs still too long uncommunicative with her mind, leaving her uncoordinated. Her knee snaps out of its lock, giving underneath her.

Her shift towards defense and anger gets another flinch out of him. Yet, even as he's taking a step back, he sees her buckle, and lunges forward to catch her.

He doesn't quite get there quick enough to keep her upright, but as long as she doesn't get a faceful of sand it's a win. "Woah, come on, take it easy. Let's just..." Greg swallows, and eases her to sitting. Then, reluctantly, he sits back himself, spreading his hands. He's not armed, he's not in position to strike her. Even scared and defensive, she can see that, right? If she wants to, she can pound him into the dust. All she'd need to do is stay upright long enough.

"Let's just... take a second to figure this out, okay?" He doesn't want to. He's shaking, frustrated, afraid. Every moment wasted is another dozen things that could be happening to Steven, another warp station they could find, another hundred or thousand or billion miles he could be away. But none of that will ease Lapis' fears. No matter how much he'd like to, rushing her will only make this harder for everyone. They need to talk.

It's hard to maintain intensity when you can only barely stand upright -- and hard to be afraid of a human, no matter who he's with, when he's this determined to keep her from toppling over. Again he manages to catch her neatly, supporting her upward and away from the ground. Somewhat stunned, she doesn't protest, not resisting as he eases her back down to the sand, staring at him as he settles nearby. His body, how he's reacting, is a good reflection of how she feels on the inside: Quivery, agitated, overstrung.

Pressing her lips together, she draws her legs closer, tucking them up underneath her, small again there on the sand.

"I need . . . an answer." She doesn't look at him, staring at the sand near her knees. "If you want me to trust you . . . I need to know who you are. Why you have Gems bubbled in the back of your van."

More than that. But these are the most important questions to start . . . and the most pressing to be answered.

Edited 2016-06-05 21:55 (UTC)

His hands fold together, squeezing tight and thumbs twiddling. Looking down at his lap proves far easier than looking at her.

"Those gems... they were all monsters. Like the one you..." He winces at the memory. "...helped with. Gems who lost their minds and turned into stuff like that."

His throat hurts. "I'm not a Crystal Gem. But Steven is. He's protecting the Earth from monsters and... other gem stuff. Things left behind from before. I'm helping him learn."

Is that . . . even possible? Gems turning into monsters, losing their minds?

How would this happen? And why?

Again, so many questions . . . but she needs to focus on the most immediate.

"'Steven' isn't a Gem name," she notes. "It's . . . not any kind of Gem I know. What is he? Where are the other Crystal Gems?"

Shouldn't they be here, so that the van isn't full of bubbles?

. . . Though considering that he talks to two gems he calls "Garnet" sometimes, she has the feeling that the answer won't be good.

"Steven Quartz."

Greg's smile is faint, tired, still directes down at his lap.

"His mother picked it. Human and gem names... it felt right."

His breath catches, and he needs a moment to compose himself. Finally he looks up, at the temple towering over them.

"I don't know where they are. They're lost."

He's holding back. He's giving her answers, but even she can tell they're not all the answers, and to a paranoid, insecure Gem, that's a danger. All these mixed signals . . . they heighten her anxiety that there's something here that's hidden just beneath the surface -- that his kindness is just a front for something darker in purpose.

Something that will bite if not careful.

She's braced her arms on either side of her, tension in the muscles -- as though she expects to push away, put distance between them.

"Humans and Gems don't have Gems. And Gems don't just get lost."

(She says that with such certainty, and yet . . . in a manner of speaking, wasn't that her fate? Just . . . a force like the Crystal Gems, which took on the Homeworld, they don't just vanish. They don't just cease to exist.)

Greg thinks about that for a moment. Then he shrugs. "Earth is just weird like that, I guess."

He leans forward a little, sighing. "Lapis, right? I know this has got to be frustrating. But my son is out thete somewhere, and he needs my help. So long as he's in danger, I just don't have the time to explain all of it. There's too much.

"If you come with me, I can tell you more while we move. If not, you can go and head to... to Homeworld, or wherever. It's all up to you."

Greg looks at her, both of them scared and mistrustful and desperate. He asks her, but doesn't demand:

"Will you help me?"

Her eyes are shadowed, obscured by the strands of her hair as her head dips, lowered towards the sand.

"You want me to trust you. Go with you. Help you. Believe you."

"I know this place. Warp pads. Gem technology. But the Crystal Gems are the reason I was stuck in that mirror."

"You want to go. But if you want me to go with you, you won't hide. You won't lie. You won't use me for your purposes."

Silvery strands are coming in from the ocean, coming too far for the momentum of the surf, lingering too long -- like fingers stretching out for her where she sits on the sand.

Her eyes come back up, burrow into his. "So I need an answer: What happened to the Crystal Gems, and what relationship are they to you? Or you could spend a lifetime looking for him -- or a life getting him back."

He doesn't see the ocean--doesn't know to look. He just curls a little further into himself, already plenty afraid without the full nature of the threat clear. She scares him plenty not with action, but with all she represents, all she might be. As many misgivings as she has for him, he has for her. Carelessly trusting her, giving her too much, it's not just him being put at risk. Letting her have the advantage could put all of life on Earth at risk.

But in the end, Greg is no Crystal Gem. He's not sworn to protect Earth. He's sworn to protect his son.

His eyes meet hers, but rather than resolute or determined, he just looks weary.

"They were my friends," he croaks. "My family, even. Rose and I, we were... she was everything to me." Greg blinks through the tears. "But they're gone now, all of them. Like the rest. Went mad, and wild." His knees tuck in tighter. "I don't know what did it. I don't know where they are. Steven, he's all I have, I--I can't lose him, too. Please."

There's a lot to absorb in all of that. The Crystal Gems, gone. Rose -- again, Rose Quartz? Was?

She's quiet, taking it all in, lips pressed together into a thin line of white.

She could refuse him. It would be easy -- to leave him here to his memories and his helplessness. What should any of it matter to her? It's fitting, isn't it, if the Crystal Gems went mad and got lost, became monsters to be beaten and trapped in bubbles? If they rebelled against Homeworld for this place and yet met their end here? What does she care what happens to this world and the bare remnants of what remains of the battles of Rose Quartz? Hasn't she already given enough?

Yet in the end, none of these sticking points will help her, either. None of it will let her get home. She knows her own world, its laws, and its technology. But he knows this place, and maybe some of what she's lost in the long years between then and now.

For the moment, there's only one good decision to make. Her eyes shift sideways, not liking it.

"I'll help you," she says finally. "But I want something back."

Greg blinks his eyes clear, startled by success. He leans forward, hopeful and desperate.

"Wh, what is it? I, I'll do whatever I can. I promise!"

It's a careless thing to swear by before knowing, but at this moment there seems nothing he won't do.

"I want to go home." In comparison with her tone before, the words are surprisingly soft . . . and somehow small on the open air, bare.

"If you want help from me . . . Help me find a way home."

Greg swallows. Then he nods. He has no idea if he can--that big warp was destroyed, after all--but he'll try. That's all he's ever done.

In truth, she hardly needed to ask. He hadn't been thinking about it, but he never would have wanted to keep her trapped here. Not after what she's been through.

"I will."

Then . . . a nod, short -- a small dip of the head.

"Okay."

She's not confident about this -- any of this.

But in a host of bad options . . . this is the best she can do.

Greg closes his eyes, for just a second. "Thank you." He doesn't know if this is the right choice, if this is going to help or hinder. Still, some small weight has been lifted from his heart with the knowledge he doesn't have to go into this completely blind.

Grunting faintly, Greg pushes himself up to his feet. "Okay. First thing is... you know how to use a warp pad, right?" She ought to, anyway. "I'll get my pack together, and we can try chasing 'em down with that. Is that okay?"

He offers a hand, to see if she's ready to get up yet.

Again, hesitation -- though this time more from the uncertainty of being able to stand. After all, she's been unsuccessful twice so far. Again, though, she accepts the offered hand, levering herself upward into a standing position with him as a counterbalance.

She still wavers a little once up, and reaches out instinctively for the open van door to steady herself.

"It's fine," she offers in reply to his question. "Yes . . . I can use one."

Behind her, the silvery threads creep back into the waves.

He nods. "Go ahead and take a seat. I've got to head over to the storage unit."

Already, he's rummaging for a sheet of paper, scrawling down brief messages for people in town. Maybe he can hand them off to Barb if he sees her, otherwise he can probably leave them at the wash and people will see them as necessary. One for Harry, one for Vidalia... one for Connie, just in case...

"It'll be maybe... twenty minutes, to run there an' back. You don't have to come or anything, but uh--if anyone comes up to ask, I guess... tell 'em you're just passing through. Sound okay?"

He's going somewhere?

That worries her. She's leaning against the edge of the van door as he scribbles furiously. How is she going to get anywhere to sit? And the humans . . . why is it important to tell them she's just passing through?

". . . Why?" she manages to get out.

What will happen if she doesn't?

Edited 2016-06-11 20:41 (UTC)

He pauses, startled by the... frailness, maybe, in her voice. She's so unsure, so uncertain, about something so small.

"Uhh, it's just... the fastest explanation, is all. People aren't exactly nosy, but I dunno how much you wanna share."

This is all so weird. It's hard to know what will or won't unnerve her more. This whole situation is pretty unnerving already.

"You can come, if you want. It won't be anything exciting, is all."

Honestly, at this point, almost everything is unnerving. It's not that she wants to be back in the mirror by any means, but exposed to the air, visible to the world . . . she feels strangely unprotected, vulnerable -- especially when her limbs aren't working right.

Who even knows about her wings?

. . . Her wings.

"I'll stay."

She has her misgivings about being left behind, but she needs to know: How much is she able to do? She can't test that in front of him. Somehow that possibility would be even worse.

She presses her lips together. "Can . . . you take me down near the water?"

He nods, and takes her hands to gently lead her further down the beach. It's possible she could use the chance to escape, but... well, she could probably do that at any point. There's no point worrying about it atthis point.

"All right. You stay comfy, I'll be back faster than you can say peanut butter with a mouthful." He flashes her a thumbs up, starting a light backwards jog. "Sit tight!"

Twisting over her shoulder, she watches him go. There's the same possibility for him, too -- that he'll take the chance to escape, that he won't come back. She's very small on the sand, watching him retreat, eyes lingering in that direction until he's gone from sight entirely.

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Crystal Lite AU

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