Crystal Lite AU

[panspermia]

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.

Comments

[oceantier]

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.)

[panspermia]

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?"

[oceantier]

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."

[panspermia]

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."

[oceantier]

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."

[panspermia]

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.

[oceantier]

"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."

[panspermia]

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."

[oceantier]

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.

[panspermia]

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.

[oceantier]

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.

[panspermia]

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?"

[oceantier]

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?

[panspermia]

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."

[oceantier]

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?"

[panspermia]

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!"

[oceantier]

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.