Chapter Text
It was surprisingly easy to fall into step with this minor step back.
Well, no shit it’s easy. You’re supposed to be staying in bed for however long Doctor Maheswaran wants you to be. The only other place you’re allowed to go is the bathroom.
But you could do without the staring.
Which Yellow’s been doing for a while now that you wisely ignore, as you flipped to another page of the book you’re reading.
She’s taken to doing that every single time she’s “stationed” at your bedside. Just staring at you for as long as she deems necessary, look at someplace else in your room or outside the window for a brief moment, then go right back to staring at you.
Well, at least she’s not as distracting as White…
And that is, unfortunately, a very low bar.
“You haven’t been sleeping.”
You tensed up for a moment at Yellow’s voice, still unused to hearing her actually talk to you. “I sleep sometimes,” you retorted simply.
“When we’re not here.”
Your lips pressed together slightly, still fixing your attention more on your book. Which you haven’t turned the page of for an inappropriately long time.
Yellow sighed, the chair she’s sitting on moving when she starts to get up. “I’ll avoid anyone who might see me leave, so no one will question—”
“Stay.”
You only realized you said the word out loud when you notice Yellow staring at you with her eyes a bit wider than before. And you immediately shifted your gaze away from her. “I don’t mind you staying,” you admitted, more to yourself than her.
Eventually, Yellow sat back down, except now she has her elbows to her knees, leaning your way for a bit while her eyes were piercing—no, not piercing. There’s a certain softness that wasn’t there before.
Beseeching?
Aaaaaand I’m looking again. Damn it.
“You look tired, Human,” she said gently. “You need to sleep. It'll help quicken your recovery.”
You scoffed, sharply turning away from her to curl on your side, still holding the book open as if you have any intention to read more of it. “You think I don’t know that?”
You heard Yellow take a deep breath before sighing. “I can tell something is bothering you, Elise.” Up to now, you find yourself still…weirded out every time any of them say your name. “If you tell me what’s wrong, perhaps I can find a way to help—”
“I’m not a child, you know.”
At her pause, you only burrowed more to your pillow, slightly tugging your blanket higher.
“Of course I know that,” she tried to placate, and it still feels wrong and out of place and you don’t know why.
“Then quit talking to me like I am one,” you bite out, anger suddenly spiking and fueling your words. “So what if I can’t sleep? I’ll deal with it on my own. It’s not like this is the first time it happened to me—”
“What is?”
You clapped your book shut. “The nightmares!” It was proving to be a hard task to not raise your voice. “You’re wondering why I can’t sleep? It’s because of that and it’s nothing new and I’ll get over it. Just like last time.” Pulling your blanket up to cover your head became the end of discussion. “So butt out and let me deal with it on my own.”
If you were able to do it before, then who’s to say you can’t now.
Right?
“You’re so selfish.”
The harshness in her voice was familiar territory.
You want it to stay that way.
“You told us to never be afraid to tell you whatever's bothering us,” she went on, each note strung tight. “And yet here you are. Do you think we’re incapable of understanding your human trivialities?”
“Human trivialities”, huh.
Now, that? That is gold.
That is a fucking goldmine, right there.
At your sharp intake of breath, you shoved down the covers to sit up, glare fiercely meeting her neutral stare that grates on your nerves.
“If I’m so selfish, then what are you?” you hissed, a snake circling its prey. “Why take the time off to “help” a selfish human like me, huh? Oh, wait. I know.” Your mouth drew back into a sharp grin, nearly a snarl that only caused her to narrow her eyes, burning in molten gold. “It’s to make you feel good about yourself. Isn’t it? Still want to be in good graces with Steven for what you and Blue did?”
There was not a drop of smug victory inside you when she bristled, thin lines of sparks flickering across her shoulders, before she stamped a gloved hand on the bed and surged forward to take you by surprise.
But you didn’t.
You easily met her glare, even when the tip of her nose is nearly touching yours, even when heat is starting to seep in underneath the sheets, her gloved hand just a couple of inches from your hip.
“How dare you?” Her voice was trembling, barely able to hold herself back from roaring at you. You can tell she’s almost there, though, when her hand clenched on the bed, clutching the sheets tightly in her fist. “I’m here because of you, you miserable twit.”
WHY ?
It was a question that’s been clogging up your brain for so long now. It was a question you’ve been wanting to yell at their faces for so long.
But you’re scared.
Of what, you don’t know.
Do you even want to know why you’re so scared?
Or are you afraid of that, too?
“Hey, bud, I got you some…”
Azura was a welcome distraction, a reason for you to finally turn away from Yellow and that look she’s piercing into you. Even when she lets go of the bed to stand up, you didn’t look at her as her heeled boots clicked on the floor swiftly.
But Azura did. And she was the only one who noticed that exact second when Yellow blinked a lot faster before she storms out of your room.
“I think,” she spoke, after a tense beat of silence. “You two need this ice cream more than I do.”
It only made you scowl. “Ugh, whatever.” You held out a hand to her. “Just give me the thing.”
She stared at you, before tilting her head, even going so far as to cup a hand around her ear. “What’s the magic word?”
Are you fucking—
“Now,” you bit out.
Only a thoughtful hum was given to you instead of the bowl of ice cream. “I dunno,” Azura mused. “Last I heard, bratty punks don't get ice cream.”
That is it.
You tried snatching it from her, but she just held it farther from your reach. To your abundant frustration, that jackass seemed to be fucking enjoying herself.
And whatever string of patience you still had, snapped.
“Give me the goddamn ice cream!” you finally yelled.
Her quirked brow and growing smirk made you see red. “Or what?” she taunted. “You’ll pummel me with your plushies?”
Heat washed over you at the jab. Last time you did that was an emotional and vulnerable moment for you, and she knows it, goddammit! Your mouth drew into a vicious snarl once your hand found the book – a hardbound, four-hundred-paged book. “This has your face written all over it, you ass—”
“Kids.”
Both of you stopped short, only to glance back to see Mom’s unreadable face, standing by the doorway.
Oh boy.
Despite her size, she has no problem waddling over in one swift move to deliver a smack at the back of Azura’s head, unfazed by her squawking. “Stop riling your sister up. And you.”
Not missing a beat, you ducked your head just as she reaches over to give you a hard thump. Ow. “Your friends are just trying to help you, so stop pushing them away.”
Damn, she went straight for the kill, huh.
You tried to reason with her, but she’s not having any of it. “Whether you like it or not, those nice Gems are part of our family now.” Her eyes narrowed, and your excuses died out. “Me and the others already accepted them at this point, so it would be a shame if we learn they gave up coming here because of a certain someone. It would break your mother and I’s hearts to have that happen!”
Oh, twist the knife deeper, will you?
“Yes. Very heartbreaking,” you muttered, thoroughly cowed by the force of nature that is your mom.
Pleased, her usual kindhearted demeanor returned with an easy smile and warm eyes. “Good!” She wordlessly asked for the bowl of ice cream from Azura so she can hand it over to you herself. “Have some of this, sweetheart. Yellow has been keeping you from eating anything but “healthy” meals for so long. No harm in having a treat, right?”
Soften the blow by giving a piece offering.
Very smart of her.
You gingerly take the bowl from her. “Thanks, Mom.”
She gave you a pat on the same spot she thumped your head earlier, before waddling out of your room with a lighthearted hum.
And you and Azura were left staring at the door when it closed behind her.
“Mood swings,” she stated.
You nodded solemnly, finally eating a spoonful of the cold dessert. “Mood swings,” you agreed through your mouthful.
…
Three knocks on the door.
Before you can even finish saying “come in”, your visitor already pushed it open.
White’s dazzling grin never stopped getting you to both tense up and feel at ease at the same time. If it’s any more possible, being around White may just be the most confusing to be with out of all three of them.
For you, anyway.
“Stardust!” she cheered, sauntering her way in typical White manner. What’s different now, though, is she has something hidden behind her. “Have I told you how nice it is to see your face?”
Yup, you always do.
You let out a meek sound reminiscent of your chuckle. And you completely missed how she seemed to falter because of it while she’s nearby your bedside. “I may have forgotten all about it,” you returned, light and easy.
Her gaze became lidded, her grin slowly being filled with mischief when she bent down and started leaning closer. “Well, I wouldn’t mind telling you again and again—”
But you drew back before she could do anything.
And all you can hear is your heart picking up speed as both of you processed what just happened, heat beginning to take over your face.
“What do you have there!” You internally cringed into eternity over how panicked you sounded. In a rush to set the air back into its normal – friendly – pace. Where nobody keeps going back to a kiss that never happened.
Nope.
None of that.
Oh God, this is hurting me physically. Is that even possible?
“I…” White cleared her throat (thank God) as she finally sat down with a polite distance between you two. “I noticed Steven’s human friend come by sometimes with flowers. And…” She mustered a strained smile. “Since we’re friends, I thought of doing the same?”
Why that’s phrased as a question, you’ll never know.
So, instead, you focused on the white bouquet of blooms she finally revealed to you.
A much more genuine smile curled on your lips, lightly tracing one of the flowers' pitcher-like petals. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” you reminded her, like so many times before.
And just like those times, she waved you off. “I know.” It was noticeable how much she relaxed when she said it.
Because both of you found your footing once again.
Gently, you brought the bouquet to your chest once she held it for you, and you tried to ignore how her hands twitched when your fingers grazed hers for that brief second.
“Thank you.” Suddenly, something fluttering inside your chest urged you to hid your smile behind the flowers. “I really like them. A lot.”
That soft look she’s giving you is familiar. That warmth flipping inside your stomach is familiar. The way she tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, her nails grazing your cheek, all of them are familiar.
Should you stop?
“More than those flowers Steven’s friend would give you?” she lilted.
You let out a puff of air that sounds a lot closer to your laugh. Something that made her light up as you shake your head a bit. “I’m not saying I’m picking favorites, but…” You paused for that good old dramatic tension, and your smile grew when she seems to be waiting for more. “Connie does give me blue flowers.”
Despite her exaggerated groan, you went on, your smile continuing to grow until it became a grin, “And you know blue’s my favorite color. Right?”
“In my humble opinion, white is far better than blue or yellow.” She moved closer to lean against your side, perching her cheek on top of your head.
You elbowed her playfully. “Are we still talking about colors or…?”
“Take it whichever way you want to, Stardust.”
As you giggled to yourself, the thought of how much you missed this came over you, sitting warmly inside your stomach.
“I…” Tentatively, she wrapped an arm around your back, just holding your elbow to pull you closer to her minutely. “I missed you.”
Just like that, you stopped laughing.
Just like that, the lighthearted, friendly air became mute. Stifling.
For that brief moment, it felt good to not think of anything else except the now. None of what happened before to have that “lighthearted, friendly air” suddenly look so far away.
Unreachable.
You started to move away from White, and she lets you.
You pinned your attention more on the bouquet instead of her, and she lets you.
You sat there in tense silence.
And she lets you.
Simply watching over you, with a depth in her eyes that you wouldn’t be able to comprehend even if you saw it.
“Have you seen Yellow?” you suddenly asked, quiet and painfully unsure.
Moving away, that polite distance made its way home between you once more. She folds her hands on her lap, back straightening. “No, I don’t think I have,” she said. “Did something happen?”
You became smaller at this, head dropping lower as you listlessly thumbed a flower petal. “It’s my fault.” You were saying that mostly to the flowers with how soft your voice got. “I made her mad.”
Something twisted in White’s chest. Maybe it’s because of that tremor in your words, or how much you seemed to be caving in on yourself. You were always so headstrong – so stubborn – with that bright grin and confident stance.
It hurts.
It’s hurting her to see you so…broken. Pieces of that fierce stubbornness she grew to familiarize herself with you scattered and far apart.
Is it even possible to put them all back together?
She shakes herself off from her somber musings.
Right at this moment – and for as long as you need it – she has to help you.
Because you’re her Stardust.
Her Light.
With clear hesitation, she reaches down to cover your hand with hers. Just having it there, as she lightly strokes the side of it, right by your thumb. “Perhaps she’s upset,” she told you, gentle. “But not mad. And even if she is, I don’t think it will last very long.”
As fierce as Yellow’s temper is known to be, it always did leave as quickly as it formed. A raging tempest leaving still, flat waters in its wake.
Especially when it comes to Blue, or White.
Or you.
“It doesn’t matter.” She feels your hand clench into a fist. “I still made her mad. Or upset. Whatever it is, I made her that way.”
Ah, there’s the stubbornness…
“If we’re being honest, I think we upset you plenty of times before, too.” The Rose Quartzes' “visit” in your room is one she remembers at the top of her head. “Does that make any difference?”
“Of course that’s different,” you immediately shot back. “You didn’t even realize you were making me upset! I knew what I was doing because I—”
Want Yellow to be upset…?
Your eyes popped open, the thought coming to you so unexpectedly before it instantly drops down the pit of your stomach.
Why would you want her to be upset with you—?
Stop it. Stop playing dumb.
You already know the answer. You already know the answer, but something stops you from saying it out loud.
(Maybe it’s because you know White won’t accept it. Will never accept that answer, even when you believe in it so much it’s killing you inside.)
“If you tell me what’s wrong, perhaps I can find a way to help—”
“Look at us as you “apologize”.”
The squeeze around your hand was coaxing and gentle, but it still made you startle, nearly crushing the flowers to your chest.
And White’s looking at you with wide – worried – eyes.
Great.
“Where did you get these flowers again?”
Her brows furrowed slightly at the jarring transition. “I didn’t,” she said, clearly uncertain.
She didn’t? Must’ve slipped your mind, then.
It’s been doing a lot of that lately.
“Ah. Well!” You plastered on a grin, holding up the bouquet. “Mind telling me where you got these? There wouldn’t happen to be white lilies on another planet, right?”
It was obvious how unconvinced she is by your display when she’s already reaching out for you with a soft, “Elise, please talk to—”
But you only shake your head no, hiding your faltering smile in the flowers, drawing away from her.
So she holds herself back.
“I found them here, actually,” she was able to force out, hiding her concern beneath a thick layer of lighthearted musing. As if she was simply talking about how nice the day is outside. “At the back. There were more flowers planted there, but these caught my eye.”
Slowly, that look of a cornered animal went away to be replaced by mild confusion. It was real, for a change.
“But…that’s where my dad’s garden is…” you muttered to yourself, deep in thought. The way you frown and that wrinkle on your nose were familiar.
And it would’ve been comical, the way your eyes popped wide open as realization sets in.
“Oh, my God, White, you took these from my dad’s garden.”
Just as you said that, you could hear a faint cry of anguish downstairs.
Perfect timing. As always.
…
“I still don’t understand why we’re here.”
Her grumbling earned her an eye-roll. “You plucked those flowers, so it’s only fair you return them,” you said for, what, the sixth time this entire morning? A disdainful noise left her ebony lips, a grimace twisting her features to complete her look of disgust.
Oh, and let’s not forget how she just had to shift away her sheer skirt and starry cape “to keep them from being stained by this planet’s muck”.
She’s the perfect partner in gardening, that’s for damn sure.
“This is so pointless,” she whined, helplessly gesturing at the flower bush with visibly cut stems poking from the leaves. “Why would anyone leave these organics outside – unguarded, if I may add – and not expect them to be taken?”
“White, this is a family garden. Why would any of us even think of picking them when they're just hiding back here?”
As you’re occupied in prepping everything both of you will need, you can already hear her pouting beside you without looking. “Ugh, how can you even say they’re “hiding” when they’re out here in plain sight?”
You open your mouth to argue, thought about it some more, and shrugged, instead. “I guess you got a point there,” you conceded, before bumping against her side, a tiny smile on your face as you peered up at her and that frown she has on that’s slowly getting softer by the second. “But my dad really worked hard on these, so…”
Just like that, her frown came back at full-force. “If he did, then why isn’t he in your place right now?” she pointed out, voice unknowingly sharp and heated.
And you paused, lowering the flower buds you’re holding but not turning to look at her. You’re worried she might see the hurt you’re trying to reel in. “I can leave if you don’t want me here,” you said in a light, casual tone to soften your words.
Hey, you don’t blame her. Your dad knows a lot more about gardening than you do. Hell, you won’t be surprised if he knows all of the gardening tricks there is, just stashed away under his sleeve.
But, you know, it did kind of sting since repairing a plant only needs a flint and a tape. It doesn’t take rocket science or years of honing a green thumb to do this—
“I never wanted you to leave.”
Silence — thick and painfully awkward — reared its ugly head between you two because of how...loaded that statement is.
And, honestly? You have no idea what to say about that.
Lucky for you, White lets out a tense sigh, fingers drumming on her thigh as she gathered her thoughts. “You’re supposed to be resting, Stardust,” she said, voice close to a whisper that you wouldn't be able to hear if you're not right next to her. “Not here where you might strain yourself and—” a shiver wracked down her frame as she practically spat out, “—stars forbid, get yourself all muddy.”
Oh, my God, first Yellow, now White? You’ve always known they have a protective streak from what happened with Holly Blue months ago, but this?
“I’m not going to shatter into a million pieces when I take one step outside, White,” you insisted, unable to hide your disbelief from your even voice. “Just because I’ve been stuck in bed for a while doesn’t mean I’m fragile. Just, you know, rusty on the—”
“No. I don’t know.”
When you think of White, you see her dazzling grins, hear her boisterous and overly familiar proclamations, know the soft pink on her cheeks she used to sport around you so long ago is her way of expressing that precious vulnerability.
You’ve never heard her use this kind of voice before. Empty, yet unlike the way she used to muse to herself when she hid herself away inside her head. Flat, a stark contrast to every change in lilt or note that can already hold so many meanings underneath.
The ground disappeared from beneath your knees, leaving you suspended in thin air.
And you don’t know what to do.
“I don’t know how you humans manage all of this.” Your lips pursed. Hearing her call you human – knowing the deep, vast drop of difference between you two grow wider – did little to ease the pit in your stomach. “How you cope with…” Her hands curled into fists on her lap. “How you cope with something so…so life-changing. How you move out of it when I’m still coming to terms that we failed to—”
Her mouth snapped shut, gaze dropping to her hands after chancing a glance your way.
Tired.
You look so tired.
Whatever amount of shine you accumulated these past few days flickered away, like a dying star on its last dregs of gas, and she curses herself for it.
Especially when the memory of you being so…wary around her earlier still sits fresh in the forefront of her mind.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Your voice was so quiet it made her think you’re talking to the flowers, instead.
Pointless things, those flowers. Yet here you are talking to them like they matter more to you than her—
Guilt flashed through her, much more blinding and painful than the last, before she shuts down that train of thought.
Of all times to be jealous…
How embarrassing.
Just as she was about to stew in this tense silence, her gaze got drawn to the bush, only littered by young, unopened buds and cut stems…
Her back straightened, visibly perking up at the idea that zipped through her magnificent mind before she set her shoulders.
Determined, she reaches for one of the flowers she picked and recalled the brief outline you gave earlier. Lining up the stems should be easy, what’s not is the tape.
This stupid tape that she’s not entirely sure how to use. Does she slip the flower through its hole for it to mend? Is there a button she needs to press to activate?
“What are you doing?”
The hint of lighthearted incredulity in your question was promising, so she kept herself busy with the tape, peeking through the hole to look at you and your tiny smile. “I don’t know, either,” she hummed, both flippant yet careful at the same time. “Didn’t you say you have an idea how to repair these flowers? I propose you teach me, so I would know how to get this contraption,” she shakes the roll of tape between her fingertips, “to work, for star’s sake.”
For a moment, you just stared at her like a tree grew on top of her head.
Then, you blinked. And another blink. And another.
Until you have to turn away from her to face the flowerbed instead of watching that thoughtful look she has on grow softer each second she gazes at you.
“M—My—” You cleared your throat to get that tremor in your voice out. “My dad showed me how to do it since he, um, since he would leave for seminars for days a few times. He gave me and Az a crash course in case him and the moms need to leave together.”
As your hands were busy with the tape – so that’s how to use it – you told her about whatever anecdote you have about your dad and gardening and she doesn’t really care too much about the topic—
But here she was, hanging onto every word that leaves your mouth, even as you ask her to hold the flower onto a cut stem because she has “steady hands”.
The way you keep brushing against her arm was at war with her desire to focus on your voice. Being distracted is out of the question, after all!
While you were now taping a makeshift splint around the stem, your anecdote somehow moving into a tutorial for your company to follow along, White was smiling the whole time before her gaze wandered to the house, for some reason.
And that reason showed itself to be Yellow.
She was heaving slightly, White noted to herself, a few errant sparks still running across her torso and limbs. Whatever fit she had earlier seems to be gone.
At least most of it.
White only realized her smile completely got wiped away when you gave her arm a pat, followed by a triumphant exclamation over one of the flowers being “good as new!”
After pinning Yellow with one last glance, White popped on a smile and cooed at your victory.
Despite the happy sight, something clenched inside Yellow’s gem, bitter and resentful.
She knows she shouldn't be feeling this way — stars, it's been so long since she last saw you smile — but the thought of it only made that bitterness crawl higher, that resentment pricking her gem on all sides.
Seeing as how she’s not needed here any longer, she turned on her heel.
Warping out of here is a temptation she yearns to have. But, as her whole life is made out of irony after irony, the warp pad is right by where you are.
It would be wise to wait for you two to finish whatever in the universe you were doing. She’s in no mood to deal with any of this mess—
“Hey.”
Her stalking off paused, but she doesn’t turn around to look.
Swaying idly from the porch swing, Azura’s spoon clinked against her bowl when she scooped up some ice cream. “She kept rolling off the bed, you know,” she started out of the blue, wholly conversational, like she's simply talking about the weather. “I can hear her falling on the floor. See, my room’s next to hers.”
She ate her treat, its sweetness doing nothing to the harsh cold encompassing her chest. “So you could imagine what I can hear from where I’m at. Her crying about the gravity, begging it to stop so she can go look for you.” Swallow the ice cream. Gloved fists clenched tight. “All sorts of things are playing tricks on her in her sleep. Figured telling you this might help you whip something up, eh?”
The breeze that swept past Azura held a tinge of sulfur.
Without saying anything, Yellow proceeded in her way, her pace much calmer than before as she went to the tree line and her figure got swallowed by the thick trunks.
Azura can’t help but roll her eyes, eating another spoonful while she though about imitation being the best form of flattery.
God, who even gets flattered by the silent treatment?
Honestly, you and Yellow might butt heads against each other but you two are so the same it’s getting hilarious.
Well, it would be hilarious if it’s not so goddamn frustrating.
Letting out a sigh, she closed her eyes as her seat swayed with the wind.