lostcarnival | [OPEN-ISH]

Entry tags:

[OPEN-ISH]

Who: Steven, Greg, Peridot, Zecora, and OPEN.
Where: The Doctor's medical tent.
When: After the attempted agent kidnapping of him and Peridot.
What: Steven gets shot with a gun, and has to go to the doctor. It's upsetting.
Warnings: Gun wounds, the left overs of violence.

When they port back into their real bodies, it's like everything's started all over again. The hit his body takes from it is instantaneous - and now there is a pain in his mind along with it that hadn't been there before. It's like the echo of what happened to him in the Matrix has overwhelmed his mind, and that his mind has inflicted it back to him. The mind makes it real, or whatever. He's just glad that he's not a full gem, for a solitary moment, because if his mind did this to him now, he doesn't want to consider what could have happened to his physical form if it was entirely reliant on it.

He staggers down onto the grass, the exit wound in his back burning, and blood bubbling out of his nose. Transitioning through realities has just made everything even more confusing, and he doesn't take much initiative besides letting Peridot carry him. They're back at the carnival. But they're not home.

It isn't until they've made it to the medical tent that the adrenaline has faded and things start to hurt for real. With some of the shock beginning to pass, the pain and fear is quick to catch up with him. He really wants someone to hold him, but he knows that he has to have his injury looked after first. He doesn't even consider trying to act tough, this time. Instead, he whimpers and starts to cry a little once he's laid down, too confused and scared to reason with himself or do much about anything.

[The open portion takes place after he's been patched up a bit and is resting, for anyone who wants to check on him.]

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It's bruising, Greg thought when he first noticed the color. There were still plenty of blues and purples lingering after the worst of the damage was sealed. It's the healing magic, he corrected as the green spread further out from the wound. Zecora's magic had taken a strange and unfamiliar shape, and it was just continuing its course as Steven continued to heal.

It's infected, he thought as it thickened and grew out from the skin. Something's gone wrong, something's been done to him that no one expected or recognized at first look--Zecora's magic, or magic inside the offending bullet, or any number of things could have set something insidious and dangerous inside of his son and was spreading as a disease.

It's this place, he finally realizes as he touches at the hard nubs of horns jutting out of his own skull. Steven hadn't been touched by the transformative magic yet, and Greg had dared to believe it was more of that hybrid anatomy protecting his son. Maybe it had; it took this wound for the magic to finally break through Steven's defenses. There's no way for Greg to know. He's as clueless about this as with anything about magic. Anything about this whole incomprehensible place.

All he can do is all he's ever done: wait. Too exhausted to focus but too anxious to rest, Greg paces by the bed and waits for Steven to wake properly, water and food waiting for whenever his son is coherent enough to take them.

It's itchy, he thinks. He scratches at his neck while dozing, only to find something soft and furry there - and for the scratch to hurt more than he's expecting. It forces him awake, a jolt of anxiety going through his gut, even as he struggles to get a hold on himself.

He cringes and cracks open his eyes, trying to get up but finding his body too heavy. His butt hurts, absurdly enough, and it quickly becomes one of the most dominating things on his mine.

"Dad...?" he calls out weakly, scanning the ceiling in a daze.

There's a thunk and a clatter, before Greg rushes out from the bathroom. ~~don't worry he was washing his hands~~

"Steven. Hey, kiddo, I'm here, it's okay. How're you--how're you feeling, are you okay? You need... water, or something...?"

"My butt hurts," he says deliriously, rolling over to face Greg as he comes out of the bathroom, holding the patch of moss growing on his neck. But, he's probably thirsty, too.

"I'll have water," he decides, closing his eyes again for a moment.

"Your butt...?" That sounds... is ominous the right word...? Greg rubs at his temple, around the base of his growing nub of a horn.

Greg chews on it a second, grabbing the cup he'd set aside and placing it by Steven. "All right, just lie still for a second. Let me check it out."

Steven nods sleepily, tugging down his underpants a little for Greg to see. The source of the weirdness seems to be the tailbone area, but Steven is incapable of seeing the exact situation - which is that he's developed about six inches of hairless tail down there, curled innocuously around his bum.

He can't quite move it yet, but he can feel the extension of his spine in a way that is hard to articulate. It mostly feels like he's got a bit of an ache in his lower back. Did he fall down...?

Oh that. That's. That's new, that's different. Greg stares, for just a second unsure of what he's looking at; without fur or hair of any sort, it looks even stranger and more alien. Still, there's no doubt of what's going on there. He glances to Steven, and swallows.

"Okay, that's--that's all right. Nothing too weird. Lemme see." Gently, he touches newly grown appendage. "Can you feel that, bud?"

It twitches a little when touches, mostly by reflex, early evidence of developing nerves even if Steven doesn't have total control over it yet. It's weird, though, so Steven can't help but shiver a little, reaching back to put his hand on Greg's as if trying to feel what's going on, exactly. When he does, it will make the increasingly defined claws replacing his fingernails all the more obvious.

"Yeah... What is it?" he asks, sounding a little bit concerned but mostly just confused. He has a thing on his butt? That is probably ominous, right? He'd just like to know more specifically what it is, because growths just showing up places reminds him of his early attempts at shapeshifting.

At least Greg's comment makes it clear that there's no cat face growing out of his bum.

His hand tenses under Steven's for just a second as he notices those claws. Oh, oh this is a whole thing, isn't it. Maybe... maybe it's like the cat thing, but really really slowly this time. And also green? They may need to do a thorough body inspection once Steven's feeling up to it. One... one thing at a time, though.

"W...ell... I could be wrong, but..."

(But he can't imagine what else it could be)

"It looks sorta like you're growing a, uh, tail."

That tip gives him a little bit of incentive to try controlling the limb again, resulting in the trail twitching back and forth beneath Greg's hand. Steven sits up some more, trying to crane his neck around to get a better look.

"Oh," he says, when he first catches a strained glance at it, flushing a little in the cheeks. It takes a moment to process that, in his current mental state. "That's... That's kind of cool." he means it, but there some hesitation too. "I guess..."

He hopes it gets bigger than that, because right now it just looks sort of creepy.

"I feel really weird..." he says, flopping down again and closing his eyes.

Even if Greg is unnerved by the whole concept of their changes, he can at least agree this is... well, a harmless change, at least. The claws are another matter, but so long as Steven's not freaking out Greg won't either.

"Just take it easy for now." Greg sits back down by Steven's side. "Think of it like shapeshifting. You'll get the hang of it."

He's sure he will. Steven's always been at home with these kinds of things, and embraced them. It's in his nature. No matter how strange it is to Greg, the important thing is that wound.

"Do you hurt anywhere else?"

He considers it for a moment. Most of his body just feels kind of weak and achy like he's coming down with the flu. It's hard to pinpoint the specific places, except for the bruised area where the bullet wound was, of course.

"Just my shoulder," he decides, opening his eyes again and offering Greg a smile, even though it takes some effort. "But it's way way better than before!" He reaches out to put his hand over his dad's again, claws or no. "I'm... I'm okay, dad."

But he only says it because he knows Greg must be worrying. He doesnt know what he is right now.

Is he all right, really? As little as Greg understands about magic or all this weird transformation stuff, he did raise Steven. He can tell his son is holding something back. But he's tired, and hurting. Maybe he's not ready. Maybe he'll tell him later.

Greg lays his other hand on top of Steven's, cupping it gently. All he wants is to make sure his son is happy. He doesn't know how to do it here. Nothing is like it was before.

"All right. If anything starts hurting, you can tell me, okay? I'll be right here."

For a moment, that reassurance almost makes him feel worse. Because he knows. Like Garnet had showed him, he knows that the only way to feel better is to address all of this head on, but he still can't for some reason. He keeps delaying, and hoping for alternatives, or for a time when he'll feel more ready.

But he never does. He certainly doesn't now, when he knows that Greg has been having a hard time settling in as it is. This isn't his kind of place.

How could he tell him that, despite what's happened to him, that home wouldn't be any better? Is he wrong for feeling that way? Isn't that just another way he's avoiding dealing with how he feels?

He holds Greg's hand, closing his eyes and nodding. He curls himself so that he's closer to his dad's body, looking for reassurance in that contact.

"I know," he says, and it means a lot to him. But saying he will, for sure, is a lie. Steven knows it is.

For a long while, that's all. They stay like that, hands held and bodies close, taking both solace and fear from each other's presence. They're here, and they're together.

Greg wonders, quietly, if that's any help at all. He can comfort and hold Steven close, but he can't protect him. Not from this. It's always been a fear of his, but it's worse here, so much worse. Nothing is certain, nothing is set in stone. All that reassured him is gone, everything from their home to their bodies and even their magic. Nothing works right, and Greg is only burdening Steven more.

He always trusted Steven to look after himself, but if this place has made it hard for him to do even that, then Greg can't blindly let his son handle it all by himself again.

"You know..." He finally speaks, very softly, and pauses there. Just to make sure Steven hasn't fallen asleep. "I've been thinking..." Another pause. He'll say it out loud. Once he's sure he's not bothering Steven. Just... finding the words is hard.

Steven cracks open his eyes, looking at Greg sleepily. He's awake enough that he wants to know what his dad is going to say, regardless of how tired he is or isn't. He feels his tail wags a little in his pants. Oh. Weird.

"What?" he prompts. He doesn't have a tone of energy to say more than that with, but he does want to know.

For a second longer Greg considers dropping it and letting them both get some rest, but he pushes through. This is important. For both of them.

"I... I wanna get better. At magic. That protection spell."

No matter how much of a bad feeling it gives him... there's no actual downside beyond his own issues. It seems like the spell only does any good for himself, but maybe if he works at it... it can help others, too.

"Maybe... you could teach me how you do it? We could make it a family thing. Shield practice."

Steven is confused for a moment, sleepily unsure if he's misconstrued what Greg said, but as it dawns on him that his impression is correct, he starts to smile more genuinely. He's still tired of everything, but he asked for his dad to be protected, and anything that will help with that is solidly a good thing.

Steven needs practice, too. He can't let this happen again - it doesn't matter whether or not he wants to fight, the fight always seems to come to him.

"Yeah!" he says, his agreement warm and as enthusiastic as he can muster. "I dunno if it works the same, but... I bet we can figure it out together. Right?"

Steven's enthusiasm lends a little more confidence to him. No matter what Greg thinks he can do with magic, he'll be doing it with his son. That's plenty reason it'll work out for the best, even if the magic itself is a failure.

"Yeah. Even if they're pretty different, it's even important to know what doesn't work."

He leans again into the bed beside Steven. "I betcha, though... it'll be way easier than trying to learn alone."

He's still pretty tired, so now that this is decided he'd inclined to drift off again. It lends him a burst of warm happiness, though, as he curls up at Greg's side, folding his clawed hands in front of him and he leans in against his father's chest. He smiles, and nods a little in agreement.

"Yeah. It always is."

He closes his eyes and falls silent then, drifting off. If Greg doesn't prompt him for anything else, he'll fall asleep, faintly beginning to purr after he's become fully relaxed.

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[OPEN-ISH]

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