To the Ends of the Earth: Peridot/Amethyst-

She finds her in the same place she always does after battle, in the Kindergarten, curled sullenly inside the smallest hole there.

Peridot just halts, loitering right before the entrance, to the side and out of view. Once she's here, she never quite knows what to say. Brain searching, wracking thoroughly for reassurances and conversation starters, yet by the time she even considers something halfway decent, Amethyst always calls out to her, somehow aware of her presence:

"I dunno why I always come back here, like, it's shit and it should only remind me that I'm shit, but I just-"

Her voice falters, hoarse in the way that Peridot likes, just a little, but enough that it signifies her aggravation.

Peridot swallows thickly, uncomfortably, fidgeting with her touch- fingers. They call them fingers here.

She hears Amethyst sigh, most likely in exasperation. "Whatever, just get in here, Peri."

Jumping, Peridot rubs at her arms, and adjusts her visor, and smoothes her hair before approaching the hole. She doesn't know why really. A habit. Close quarters with Amethyst always makes her want to look nice. "Al . . . right, I'm coming."

She squeezes right in only to find Amethyst sitting sideways, head resting on her knees, vision orbs rimmed red. Nothing new here, but it has her feeling the tiniest she's ever been.

And they don't say anything. Not at first, at least, with Amethyst glaring sulkily at an inner wall of her cavern, and Peridot not knowing what to do with her hands, but she finds a use for one yet, and that's to take a thicker, darker one in hers, hesitant.

It coaxes Amethyst to speak, at least. She gives a small laugh (and something soars in Peridot's chest, just a bit) scrubbing her eyes dry with her free hand.

"I'm such a mess," she says between a groan and a cynical chuckle, "A total disaster."

Internally, Peridot agrees. Amethyst is a mess, and she's nothing like she's supposed to be, and what she is, she shouldn't be, however, on top of that, she's so much more. She's so much more, the best gem there ever could be, despite her obvious defects and she makes Peridot want to be more than what she is too, more than a lowly technician.

Amethyst ducks her head again, fingers buried within a wild mane, "I am, and I'm a wreck," here, her voice cracks, sharp like the gem shards Peridot has worked with, and it leaves a reminder of something painful in her chest, "and I fuck up all the time because I am a fuck up, but, like . . ."

Violet eyes meet green. Peridot freezes under a gaze so miserable, and expectant, and longing. Admittedly enough, emotions frighten her. But she feels them so much these days that it hardly makes a difference.

"Every time we go fight, I can't help thinking about what you said. How I could be a leader. How I should be a leader." Her expression shifts, bitter and morose. "But then, somehow, I make a mistake and it reminds me of what I am."

And Peridot squirms. There are so many times where she wishes she hasn't opened her mouth that day. So many times where Amethyst's confidence has kindled something warm inside of her, and she thinks about it numerous times over- the nights where Amethyst consoles a cold, trembling, anxious her that should Yellow Diamond show her face, she'd have to go through her, and each Crystal Gem first.

She's always thinking about that, how warm it made her feel, but never can she fix what she's said, or reassure Amethyst to stop thinking this way.

"Uh," she tries weakly, but she jumps at her own voice as it echoes a little too loudly within the small cave, "To be fair, your calculation of Steven's distance to yours was merely ten point six-five feet off, so it's not entirely your fault that the corrupted spinel-"

Amethyst shoots her a heated glare. Peridot shrinks beneath her gaze and wonders why the other gem even tolerates her presence.

"I'm sorry." It's easier to say these days, and she likes the effect it has when she does; somehow she's been humbled. She spares a fleeting glance at Amethyst's face, then lets her thumb brush tenderly over lavender knuckles. "I really am."

While she doesn't look at her, Amethyst at least gives her hand a responsive squeeze.

They sit in a minute or two more of silence before something that feels an awful lot like guilt compels Peridot to open her mouth.

"And it's, erm, unsettling to me . . . when you speak this way, because you've only ever been strong in my eyes. I've only ever . . . wanted to be accepted by you, and acknowledged by you because I honestly do think that you're the best." Coughing awkwardly, she internally adds, And that has nothing to do with your creation.

Amethyst raises her head again. Peridot wonders why she finds her so appealing to look at. She turns away, flustered.

"Dude, we might have a different definition of 'best' here than on Homeworld . . ." But she's laughing, just barely.

Peridot rolls her eyes to the ceiling in thought. "Best . . . of the highest quality, excellence, or standing."

Amethyst stifles an amused snort. "Okay, then you're definitely using it wrong."

There's that warmth spreading within her again, the one she gets whenever Amethyst smiles at her, whenever Amethyst laughs.

"I think Amethyst is the best because . . . I would admittedly do anything for her."

Peridot watches purple cheeks flush two shades darker. "Peri, I thought you were supposed to be all logical and junk."

"What's illogical about it?" She purses her lips, musing in slight annoyance about what could possibly be confusing about her declaration. "It's a fact that it's what I think."

Amethyst studies her for a moment before her grin falters into something somber. "If I were a leader, I bet you wouldn't even follow someone like me."

The statement throws her for a loop for a solid minute or so as Amethyst further deflates in on herself with each second that passes.

What startles Peridot the most, however, is how vehemently she disagrees.

Peridot shifts uncomfortably, "Errrmm..." Her throat is dry, and she tugs nervously at the collar of her outfit, and while she is loathe to say anything, she knows she owes Amethyst at least this truth:

"W-Would it be pathetic if I said I'd follow you anywhere?"

And this is it. This is the final wall that crumbles away, reducing Amethyst to a sudden fit of raucous snickers that resound noisily off the walls of the small enclosure.

She bends over at her middle, forehead to her knees, and Peridot can't decide if she's watching in rapture or in petrified embarrassment, but it's true that she's utterly frozen in place.

As much as Amethyst's laugh tugs at something deep in far abdomen, there's a difference between them, and there's something about this one that flushes her cheeks in mortification.

When the purple gem recovers, she slowly uprights herself, hair disheveled and obscuring her eyes in a manner that has Peridot choking over her next breath, a small grin playing on thick lips.

"Just super cheesy," she finally replies with a breathless chortle, and Peridot nearly doubles over from the force of her embarrassment.

"Oh, yeah, w-well-"

And then, for a brief, chaste moment, a warm mouth presses over hers.

"But it would make me really glad."