hfm_logs | Don't camp the spawn point [CLOSED]

Entry tags:

Don't camp the spawn point [CLOSED]

Warnings: Potential violence
Location: Atop the spire
Characters: Peridot, Greg Universe, eventually Agent Washington
When: The day after their deaths/disappearance, respectively
Summary: So, we got murdered. How 'bout that.

Everything hurt.

Greg registered that fact, before even registering he was awake. All parts of him ached just for being in existence, not the least of which was the throbbing in his head, muddying his thoughts from processing anything more than how deeply uncomfortable it was to be--

--alive.

He tried to open his eyes, and was met with further assault on his being, light attacking him and blurring out the world. He groaned, and felt it rattle through his chest in a piercing burn. The sound choked out with a whimper, and he curled on himself a little. Was he really alive? Was this how it was supposed to feel? Or was this actually just how things turned out, after...? Sucking in a breath, he felt newly-repaired lungs complaining for the effort, and Greg creaked his eyes open again.

It was... a nice place. Bright, and clean, and green, and... familiar. Greg blinked, and attempted sitting up, only to be hit with a wave of nausea. Oh wow, everything is terrible. Why is everything so terrible in such a nice place. Oooorgh. He curled in on himself further, waiting for the illness to pass, or at least lessen. It took a long time.

This was the spire, right? The garden on top. He had only been here once before, the months ago when he'd arrived. Since then, he'd only been to the lower levels, checking to see if missing friends had ended up like Wash had said. Slowly, carefully, Greg looked down to his chest. Even as it throbbed with sharp pain, it was in perfect condition. No wound, no scar, not even a bruise. Just like Wash had said, after all. So he really had...

For a long time, Greg didn't move. His brain was running in circles, trying to process all that happened, to remember it, to forget it. He'd died. He'd died. And now he wasn't dead. Regenerated. Weakly, he felt fingers nudging at his stomach, just making sure. Eventually, he gave sitting up another try--a creaky, queasy process, but successful in the end. It was necessary, just to properly take stock of everything, ensure he hadn't spawned a new haircut or outfit or something. But no, everything looked just the same as ever. He kept finding himself gingerly rubbing at his chest, double and triple checking that really nothing was there. Clean, smooth, kinda hairy, untouched skin.

He'd died, and he was back. And that meant... everything was fine? Was that how it was? That's how the Gems did it. It didn't even phase them. And here he was, good as new. So he should feel. Okay. Everything was... okay. He just had to go back to living, like nothing had happened. Return to his apartment, to his girlfriend, to--

"Rose--ooohohoooo, ow, oh, okay, no..."

Getting up too quickly brought another crash of vertigo, and his knees buckled under the effort, leaving him reeling on the ground again. Rose didn't know. Rose had seen--he was a human, she didn't know, she'd think... he'd left her to think the worst, he should have warned her. Even now that he was awake, he couldn't even get up, could hardly even move to let her know. He couldn't keep leaving her waiting. Damn it.

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"Why...?"

It took him a while to process what she meant. What did he do that needed explaining? The--oh. Right. In retrospect... it was a pretty stupid move, wasn't it?

"I... w-wasn't really thinking clearly, I guess." None of them had been. It certainly hadn't been an attempted act of heroism, on his part. He just wasn't thinking things through. "I just... I wanted you two to stop fighting."

Greg grit his teeth, and did his best to make eye contact. There she was. Peridot, who had killed him, tried to kill Rose, tried to take his son. Peridot, who he was stuck here with. He looked away. He had to remind himself to breathe.

"Do you... do you get it? There's no point in fighting, here. It, it won't make a difference."

A slow progression of understanding played across Peridot's face. She became uncomfortably aware of an absence in her head that she had been too busy with other thoughts to notice.

"Then...then even if I had taken out Rose Quartz...she never would have stayed down. There was no way I could have won..."

Rage twisted her face into a scowl and she snapped the branch in half with an effort too monumental for a Gem to ever need.

"They lied...They lied! The shadows- They never told me! YOU-" She looked up, as if she was trying to look into her own head.

"Hmph...They're gone."

Greg cringed, at her anger, her action, and most especially her intent for Rose. Whether or not she could have really destroyed Rose, the intent and desire was all there.

But, she said something else important. The shadows. Greg's brow furrowed. "Gone...? You mean..." Deals didn't last through death. He couldn't be sure what to make of that.

"The shadows just want this war over. Like that Lux guy, I guess." With some effort, he got back up to a proper sitting position. "We're not getting out of here until one side wins. Fighting against each other's just going to make it take longer."

The flash in her eyes was more annoyance than anger, but she still turned the brunt of it on Greg.

"It's not that simple!"

She doesn't even know why it's not that simple, but it isn't. The way she had felt while she was shadowed...The Homeworld Gems vs Crystal Gems war had been simple until the arrival of the Steven. The Lux and Nox conflict had been simple...until she'd felt the effects of the shadows.

She turns away from him to sulk. "They spoke to me when I was on their side. I had useful powers! I knew what to do with them! I escaped Rose twice before but when I had the shadows..."

She's made an attempt to stand up and succeeded though her legs were shaking, knees nearly knocking together. She couldn't exactly walk yet, but she was only shaking and not swaying. "...It was like I was the bravest Gem in all the wor-"

Suddenly it was like she snapped out of a trance. "Why am I telling you this?"

For a while, Greg didn't speak. He just sat, watching the ground, chewing at his cheek.

"I dunno. I've never felt powerful, myself. I've just found other ways of being worthwhile." Small ways. Hopefully helpful ways. But never powerful ways.

With a heavy sigh and a hand through his hair, he chanced another look at Peridot. It was a little easier, with her turned away. "So, maybe I'm talking out my butt here. But seems to me, if all the power in the world gets you here with a guy like me, it's not worth a whole lot."

"Well, that's fine for you. You're a human. Though allying yourself with a Gem like Rose Quartz was a prudent move, I admit."

She still couldn't seem to will her legs forward, though she really wished she could. "Please don't talk out of your rear end. That's disgusting. And anyway, it was HARDLY all the power. I witnessed that shadowed human do things I thought only Gems were capable of while I was left with a barely functional healing ray."

Nope, she can't stand any longer. The burning pain in her abdomen brought her slowly back down to the ground. "Perhaps it would be MORE prudent to ally with the more powerful side."

...Huh. That gave him a thought. Greg's brow furrowed, as he mulled it over. "Oh... man." He pressed a hand to his forehead, frustrated as he tried to put it together. "Dang it... there's a really good fart joke in there somewhere, but it's not coming to me." This is the worst thing that's happened today by far.

"Ahh well..." He gave up, sagging into a sigh. "You're talking about Aaron, aren't you? I dunno... when I met him, he was pretty badly hurt. I bet he would have really liked a healing ray, around then." This, being said as someone without any knowledge of Aaron's old magic.

"Healing's a really great ability to have, if you ask me. It means... you can take care of the people you care about." Did that mean anything, to Peridot? To any Gems, aside from the Crystals? There had to be something they cared about, wasn't there? "I've seen a lot of my friends get hurt. If I could heal that up for them, even a little, I'd take the chance in a heartbeat."

"...What's a 'fart?'" Humans and their strange ways. Whatever it is, it sounds nasty.

Peridot tilted her head to the side. "No...he said he'd given up healing magic for the shadows. If he'd wanted what he had, he would have kept it." This was logical. "All my allies and I come back from having their bodies destroyed on their own. My enemies too, apparently. Healing is quite simply useless to me!"

Something small and weak passed over Greg's face; a tiny little smile. Ah, good. He could still do it. That was a step in the right direction. "One of humanity's greatest natural defenses."

The smirk couldn't keep up long, though. "He said that, huh?" He couldn't speak for Aaron, admittedly. He didn't know for sure, didn't know much about him at all. But he'd seen how pained, and scared, and alone the guy was, in the barn. "Well, I guess we all make misjudgments."

Wash sat up with a start, trying to catch his breath. Where was-

A garden. A very familiar garden.

He couldn't be here now- Tucker and Caboose and the Reds were stuck on the Staff of Charon- they needed an extraction- he was on his way-

And then he'd had a glimpse of sunglasses, and that ugly sweater vest, and a "welcome back" without enough time to respond, and he was stuck in this city again, nowhere near where he needed to be-

And they'd still be there when he got back, at the exact same moment he'd left. He knew that. It'd be fine-

Though it sure was frustrating as hell. He snarled and slammed his fist on the ground, then yelped, shaking it out. Oh, right, he'd sliced that one open in a fit of Fuck Your Camouflage less than an hour ago.

He sighed and got to his feet. At least he felt better than he had last time he'd woken up on top of the spire.

Speaking of waking up on top of the spire - those were voices. That was...that was Peridot. And Greg. What the hell were they doing up here?

(He didn't want to consider the most obvious option. Not until it was confirmed.)

It didn't take him long to make his way over to them and walk into the best conversational opening he could have ever asked for. "Oh, yeah, farts can be deadly," he said nonchalantly. "You probably want to avoid those."

That was enough of that. "What are you two doing up here?" Never mind that he'd just spent months on Chorus; never mind that he had no idea how much time had passed here in his absence, if any; nope, he had questions. Might as well get them answered.

She was about to ask Greg to explain. These farts were clearly something she needed to be aware of for the future. She hadn't even been sure humans HAD any natural defenses.

But then...

Oh yes, him. The rude one. Even Peridot knows that if she admits what she did to Greg it probably won't go over so well. She's not even sure what to do after this. Considering the way Rose makes allies, killing her human has probably put her on the radar of more than one powerful person. This isn't completely unfamiliar territory for her, but she's not sure how a human will react compared to a Gem.

"We are clearly talking." She cleared her throat. It seems like a safe answer, but she can't keep the suspicion out of her face. "What are you doing here?"

"W...Wash!"

Greg jumped at his friend's voice. He hadn't expected to see anyone else up here, and his brain scrambled to put together why he'd be there, concern and relief fighting for dominance. It made sense, Wash knew about this place, knew where to come looking. Except for his asking why they were here. So then, for him to be with them...

He staggered to his feet, wobbling slightly. "Are--are you okay? What happened?"

Right. This was how conversations with Peridot went. He hadn't missed this. "Wow, it's almost like I figured that out myself and joined your conversation!"

Greg's response was cause for more concern. He wasn't stable, and the sinking feeling that Wash knew why was only getting more pronounced. He headed over to Greg, reaching out to steady him. "I wound up back on Chorus. Turned out the civil war was a ruse covering up planetary genocide by a large corporation, and the merc who said he was an ally was actually a raging sociopath with a penchant for stabbing people." Wash shrugged. The amount of nonchalance with which he could deliver that information said something about the state of his life; he wasn't sure he wanted to think about what exactly that was. "So the past few months have been fun."

But this wasn't about him. "Now I think it's your turn to answer that question."

"Well, I don't recall inviting you," Peridot, too, managed to get to her feet, taking a few steps back from the two of them. If she registered Wash's explanation for his absence, it didn't show on her face beyond a slightly pursed lip and raised eyebrow. Planetary genocide did interest her, but there was no way she was going to get the whole story from him, now or possibly ever.

Her eyes were on Greg, except when they darted to the sides of the garden looking for escape routes. She was going to have to be ready to run. He was going to spill the beans. His actions during the fight had shown fairly clearly he didn't know what was good for him. How much could he care about what was good for her?

"Uhh. That's, ah. You've been. Busy. That's... huh." He rubbed at his neck, filing that all away under "very important things I don't understand." It was a very big mental file.

Months, though...? How long had he been out? Wash had mentioned, once, something about time moving differently between home and here, but now that he thought of it he hadn't actually checked if he'd been out an hour or a year.

The moment of confusion (one in a very long line of moments) was pushed aside for yet another moment of distress. Wash didn't know. He had to explain--but what could he say? He hardly wanted to put it in words himself, and Peridot... Greg cast a small, anxious glance at her, then to the ground.

"There... there was a... an accident." That's what it was, after all. Even that vague description, however, made his stomach twist. He didn't want to think about it. The less he said, the better. "We... we both made a mistake, and..."

That look to Peridot, and Peridot's nervousness, did not go unnoticed. Greg's halting explanation only made things worse. "And you died," Wash finished, calmly as he could. That wasn't the whole story - there was no way that was the whole story - but...

But he remembered just how badly dying had fucked him up. It was another set of nightmares he'd never be able to forget. And if that had happened to Greg - worried, sensitive, not mentally suited for that kind of trauma Greg...

Priorities. Triage first; explanation later. "Do you think you can handle the stairs?"

He...hadn't told him. Peridot's look changed to one of intense confusion. "Accident" wasn't inaccurate, but it didn't near cover exactly what happened. Surely Wash wasn't a comrade to her, he would have no trouble taking her out in her weakened state but...

Greg still hadn't told him.

Peridot was entertaining the idea that this might be a set-up. They both seemed to know that dying wasn't permanent. Perhaps Greg had died to bring her up where the other could take her out but...no. No, that didn't seem to be what was happening. This was simply...coincidence? Strangely apropos coincidence, but still coincidence?

This was the strangest thing that had happened yet.

The two humans seemed to have everything covered, or more precisely, Wash was paying more attention to Greg then her. Going with them increased the chance of Greg telling him everything which increased the chance of Wash killing her. She took two more experimental steps backwards. Perhaps she could just...quietly leave and figure this out by herself.

Wash finished the thought, so he wouldn't have to. The words were out there, now. Greg didn't say anything. Wash was perceptive enough not to need the confirmation.

Shifting his weight, testing his legs, he gave a small nod. "Sure... yeah, I think so. Peri--"

He glanced back again, choking on her name. Ah. She was backing off. Greg couldn't deny, it was a bit of a relief. All this was... more than he'd bargained for, to say the least.

He swallowed around the queasy lump in his throat. "Take... take care of yourself, okay...?"

By this point, Wash was having a pretty hard time believing whatever had happened had been an accident. Peridot's expressions and behavior (could she be less subtle?) pretty much sealed that deal - there was more to this story than Wash knew. He'd find out eventually; for now, there were a good number of stairs between them and where they needed to go.

"Come on," he said, wrapping an arm around Greg's waist. The stairs were wide enough for two abreast, and odds were good that Greg would eventually need the support.

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Don't camp the spawn point [CLOSED]

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