interstellar5555 | the last mistake, the choice i made

Who: Steven, Greg, and technically Sans.
What: Sans teleports Greg into Steven's room one more time, by popular demand.
When: February 11th, 2055
Where: Steven's room in Pride HQ
Warnings: Potential discussion of torture, child abuse, etc.

It's late in the evening, and he's feeling claustrophobic.

Jin has been locking him in his room at night lately - ever since he had a few bad episodes of wandering off to other parts HQ and doing clumsy things. She told him it was because he was a liability and that there was no guarantee of supervision at these hours of the night. He didn't argue with her about it. He didn't even want to. Being locked in here is far preferable to the tiny cell he'd been kept in before, waiting for hours until the next terrible thing they did.

It doesn't seem like they have much use for him anymore. His manager had even threatened him with as much - if he didn't start pulling his weight again, then he was worthless to the label. He understands that, he thinks. He just doesn't know how to give them what they want.

He's been trying to take notes, to write music, to do anything, but he mostly just ends up scribbling on paper instead. Drawing is the only thing he seems to be able to focus on, in bits and pieces. His thoughts are always so disconnected that words quickly get difficult - at least with images, its always so easy to pick up where he left off. It doesn't matter if he doesn't remember what he was going for initially, he can just turn it into something else.

At some point he got the idea to get out his makeup, and has been playing with them for a while now, painting his arms and face in between doodling on paper. It's kind of nice, even when the glowing cracks all over his body cut through the patterns. Maybe it's even pretty.

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"Why?" he mumbles, and the despair there is obvious. He'd tried so hard to do the right thing, and he'd been wrong. Those moment leading up to being caught and punished had been the most alive he'd felt for as long as he can remember - the most right. But the cost of it had been too much to stand. "I can't do anything to them..."

"I think maybe you could, before. They were scared of how happy, and friendly, and kind you were, so they tried to take it away."

There's no way to know if it's true, but Greg can't possibly imagine any other reason they'd do this to him.

"You used to be strong, and magical, and brave. They know you still can be. You showed them that, last week. I bet you and Garnet and the rest could've taken these guys out easy."

"Garnet..."

His fingers clench around the fabric of Greg's shirt. All of this does seem possible to believe, now. That they destroyed him so he couldn't fight back. It seems unfair, but it makes sense. It worked too well. He's not good for anything now.

"I can't remember her. I wish I could..."

It hurts, knowing something so important must be so close. He just can't visualize her in his memories at all.

"Why did they want us here?" Out of so many people, they'd been chosen, but what for? "It's so bad...and I don't get why..."

Greg's already heavy heart sinks further. His own memory of Garnet is pretty hazy, but he's sure she was close with Steven. It must be killing her not to have him remember.

"I wish I knew."

It's the biggest question on everyone's minds, it seems. Whoever they were, whatever they were all capable of, none of it explains why they were brought here. It all feels so arbitrary.

Steven is basically curled up on Greg's lap at this point, cradling himself against his chest. He doesn't want him to go again, even though he realizes that he's going to this kind. He's not allowed to be here. It isn't right.

"They want us to keep playing," he says softly. "The music...it's...somehow..."

He feels all confused whenever he talks about it, but they all know there's a magic to it. It must be related.

It's not wholly clear when they ended up like this, but it doesn't really matter. It's not the first time they've been curled up on each other, here or in their memories, and if Greg has a say it won't be the last.

The music... Greg's been stroking Steven's hair, but his hand stops at the boy's unfinished thought. The music... is...?

"Weird things have been happening when I play." His voice is hushed, saying it as much to himself as to Steven. "Other people, too... it's... it's changing... something." This is... this is important, isn't it? He's been noticing it, but unable to put it together. Something's right in front of him, staring him down, and he can't quite get there.

It's something they want more than anything they were capable of before being changed. It's why someone broken like him is useless. He knows he's useless.

"That...that lady...the one who died. She could do it, too." He shakes his head, having a hard time remembering the specifics. He can't remember the woman's name now, or even what she looked like. He just remembers that she died. Lesedi Santiago killed her. "They said that he made her do it..."

Greg can't claim to remember her in any capacity either. All that's left are eulogies and recordings. Those, and the fear and confusion she passed on to all of them.

Steven's not the first one to draw the comparison. Greg's mouth goes dry. "That won't happen again." If he could hug him any tighter, he would. "I won't let anything like that happen to you again." If he's got a power like Naomi's, then that means he has the power to stop it. If he can make sure of that much, he can be of some use.

the last mistake, the choice i made

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