Stay

This fanfic contains a lot of swearing, smoking, violence and various other mature themes.

Jasper, Peridot, Lapis Laszuli, Steven, Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, Peedee, Kiki, Gunga, Onion, Sadie and Lars are the property of Rebecca Sugar and Cartoon Network.

This is an AU where gems differ slightly from canon in that they have a measurable heart beat as well as other small changes that you will likely notice, I'm not mentioning all of them here because spoilers and I'm lazy. Mask Island is much bigger than canon version.

Day 6 of this story is the day of "Super Watermelon Island".

This fanfic is written from the perspective of E. K. Brooks who spends a lot of time alone before any canon characters are introduced. Thou hath been informed-ETH!

Chapter 1: Travelling

It was time to go, finally. I leaned over the bathroom sink and looked myself in the eye. This had been a long time coming. The last thing that had kept me in this place, my cat Sam, died a few weeks ago. I stepped out of the bathroom and looked around my ground floor apartment. Sam's metal food bowl still stood in its usual place on the plastic mat by the fridge. I kept waiting for him to trot through the cat flap with a "mmraw" and his tail high in the air, like he had done every morning for the last twelve years. I couldn't take it away, if I did, it would be like he was really gone. A real Schrodinger's cat moment, despite the twinge of loss, I smirked at my own pun.

All the bags were packed, or the bag was packed. The backpack. It had been a birthday gift from my parents when I turned twenty. It was a really good one, and by that I mean expensive, something I could never have been able to afford on my own back then. My parents were always good at that, making sure me and my sister had good quality things that lasted. This backpack had been their final gift to me before they passed away. I had named it the Luggage, because of Terry Pratchett books, an author both my father and I loved. In its life, the Luggage has been to several festivals, camping trips and vacations across numerous countries. It has been lost, found, accidentally set on fire and had almost all of its detachable components replaced over the years. Sometimes I think about that, how many parts of a whole can you change without the whole thing becoming something different. To semi-quote Terry Pratchett:

"This, milord, is my family's axe. We have owned it for almost nine hundred years, see. Of course, sometimes it needed a new blade. And sometimes it has required a new handle, new designs on the metalwork, a little refreshing of the ornamentation . . . but is this not the nine hundred-year-old axe of my family? And because it has changed gently over time, it is still a pretty good axe, y'know. Pretty good."

Maybe it's just about perspective.

I made a last sweep of the apartment, checking the fridge and kitchen cupboards for the tenth time to make sure there was no food to rot. A couple about my age was going to rent the place while I was away. The second to last thing that kept me here was my ex, Christina. We had been together six years, before I ended it about seven months ago. We had met as she was finishing up med school and I was working on my book. It was a whirlwind romance and we fell for each other quickly, but we only got to meet once every two weeks. She lived half the month in the same city as me and spent the other half in the far north, completing her studies in a very specialized hospital. We were both very busy, she conducting a medical trial for her final paper and me working round the clock to finish my deadlines. When my book was finished, we waited eagerly to see how it would sell, and after three weeks my publisher called with "great news". It had been an overnight success. Suddenly I was flooded with emails and calls from journalists, talk show hosts and movie companies. I was overwhelmed, but Christina kept me grounded. I'm especially thankful to her for keeping me from buying some really stupid things with the first check I got. My bank account had never seen so much money. It was such a change from before I finished the book. I had lived below the poverty line since I graduated from high school, picking up stray shifts wherever I could get them to make ends meet. I remember going to the grocery store after the check had cleared. For the first time, I didn't have to count every penny, read on all the prize tags and add it up on my phone as I went along. I didn't just have to get what was necessary; I could have anything I wanted. Name brand stuff! Fancy name brand stuff! I ended up putting so much in my cart I couldn't carry all the bags, but that was ok, because I could afford a cab now! As I got home that day, Christina shared some great news of her own – her article had been published in a prestigious medical journal and she had been invited to speak at the biggest medical conference in the country. We celebrated with the fanciest meal we had ever made together. We had been together for two years at that point but I think that was the beginning of the end. We saw each other less and less, and talked less frequently on the phone too. Daily emails became bi-weekly emails, then monthly emails. We stayed faithful to each other, but we drifted apart. It happened slowly and we were both so busy we hardly even noticed. Years passed and she was hired as a full time medical researcher at the most famous research facility in Europe. During the same time, I was doing book tour after book tour, appearing on TV only when I had to though. I liked interacting with my fans personally and a camera wasn't my idea of personal. A movie based on my book was made, which I was reasonably happy with. This added even more money to my account, and I had no idea what to do with it. In our last year together I only saw Christina twice. Once on her birthday and once on Midsummer's eve, when I ended it. There wasn't really much to say about it and neither of us seemed particularly upset. You had to know each other to be upset, and we just didn't anymore. We parted on good terms. I think what was upsetting was the lack of emotion I felt. And the paparazzi. Our breakup was apparently big news and we both got hounded for comments, pictures and TV-appearances. Let's just say, neither of us obliged.

I had always been an introvert and this public life was getting to me. I had had this idea when I was a kid, that I wanted to have my own Robinson Crusoe adventure. And that fantasy was what I was now going to finally realize, with some modifications. Everything had been organized by my assistant Parker, the most efficient and able multi tasker I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. She found the perfect place, an uninhabited island without large predators, that wasn't a nature preserve. She sorted out countless forms, jumped through all the hoops to make sure that I got all that I wanted, which was to be left alone with supplies on an island for as long as I pleased, with a solid exit strategy and safety measures. I negotiated the safety procedures down from ridiculous to manageable – a satellite phone. I argued that I wanted to be left alone and alone didn't mean a helicopter doing a fly by every six hours. Part of the deal was that I would acquire all the necessary knowledge for island survival and that I would lose those seventy or so extra pounds I had packed on over the last four years. I agreed. It was hard. Really fucking hard. But I did it and I was now in the best shape of my life. My body was strong, but not in the showy way of bulky biceps and a six pack. It gave me confidence that there wasn't a pickle jar in the world that I couldn't open. I was ready.

I stepped out of my apartment, hoisting the Luggage onto my shoulders. A car was waiting for me by the curb and the driver took me to the airport. Parker met me at the entrance with a few last minute papers that needed to be signed and watery eyes. She tried to hide it, but I saw. I gave her a hug at the security station and told her I would be just fine and to not worry. I picked up a bottle of Absolutely Vodka in the tax free shop, not that I drank very much, but it was a taste of home. I felt elated as I got on the plane. Parker had gotten me a first class ticket with all the trimmings and I sipped possibly the last fizzy drink I would have for months. I felt extremely good about myself – I could fit into the plane seat without feeling uncomfortable. Yes, the first class seats were bigger than the ones in coach, but there was a time I was very close to having to buy two seats.

Surprisingly rested, I stepped off the plane, picked up the Luggage and headed out of the airport. In the arrival hall a man was holding up a sign saying "Harriet Johnson", which was the alias I was travelling under this time. My real name, Erica Katheryn Brooks, or EK Brooks, would have drawn unwanted attention. He led me to the car and we drove off to a marina, where a grey haired woman and a young female nurse met me. That was another part of my deal with Parker, every two months I would have to meet a nurse who would take all sorts of measurements, weight, blood pressure etc., and if any of them went into the dangerous zone, I would have to come back home. The examination went quickly and I boarded the sailboat 'Olivia' that would take me to the island. The woman captaining the boat was named Rita Fernandez and had a cheery demeanor. It took us several hours to get to the island and we spent the time chatting about this and that. She was a nice person with three grandkids and one great grand kid on the way. Her oldest grandchild apparently was a big fan of my book and I happily signed her a very dog eared copy. Seeing the book so well read made me feel so… proud. Not of myself for writing the book, but of the book itself. Like it was my kid and they had grown up to be a good person.

We arrived at the island around mid afternoon and I felt so excited. We waved farewell and I looked around at the beach that would be my home for as long as I wished. It was perfect. There was a cliff off to the left side that provided two walls, a perfect place to put up camp. There was a coral reef making a natural border to keep large aquatic predators like sharks out and also provided a living larder with fish and crustaceans. The jungle was dense and had a variety of fruit trees including mangoes and coconuts. There was a fresh water spring about five minutes' walk from my soon-to-be campsite. In the shadow of the cliff there was a huge pile of supplies stashed under a tarp, courtesy of Parker and delivered by Rita and Olivia. This was going to be Robinson Crusoe, luxury version.

I raised the tent and dug a fire pit, gathered some firewood and found a handy flat rock I was sure could be used to bake fish on. I lit a fire after ten minutes hard work with the fire steel and settled down to enjoy a dinner consisting of a cup of hot chocolate, a meal bar and a pack of peanuts. I lay back in the sand and watched the spectacular sunset. I was so happy. So free! It didn't get any better than this. I put on a super serious face and said aloud;

"But then everything changed when the fire nation attacked" and lit a cigarette, chuckling to myself and my amazing wit. I crawled into my sleeping bag after a while, deciding I would sleep under the sky tonight. The sound of the ocean so close, the occasional squawk of gulls, the salty air and the warm sand made me feel perfectly at ease. It really didn't get any better than this.