Warning for mentions of war and death.

Pearl left the sparring arena in a very mild, very manageable state of alarm. Bismuth wasn't here, wasn't at the forge or the hangar or the main base, didn't have any missions or errands that Pearl was aware of. And while the two of them had nothing in the way of explicit plans together, it was very unusual for Bismuth to go off on her own without at the very least bragging about it a little first, possibly proposing a wager over the outcome. But of course Pearl was sure everything was perfectly fine.

She warped over to one of Bismuth's favorite forests. Maybe she was just giving some new weaponry a trial run. Not everything has to have an ominous and terrible explanation, Pearl insistently reminded herself as she eyed groups of trees displaying varying levels of damage.

Finally she spotted a large blue figure sitting on an ashy fallen log. A large blue figure sitting on a log, sobbing raggedly into her hands.

"Bismuth?" Pearl cried and rushed over, a dissonant noise filling her head, washing her vision in inconvenient spots. "Oh no, no no no! What's wrong? Is someone hurt? Are you hurt? Where are you hurt?" Panicked tears immediately sprang to her own eyes at the thought. If only they were the useful sort! She quickly scanned Bismuth over, running through possible injuries, staring intently at her gem. All seemed in order, as far as she could tell, though if anything, this uncertainty only made her anxiety flare up brighter.

Bismuth sniffed and wiped her face on the back of her forearm. "Pearl," she said, her voice gravelly. "C'mere." She opened her arms in invitation and Pearl immediately climbed into her embrace, hugging back tightly. Having this tangible proof of Bismuth's corporeality, at least, was marginally reassuring.

They stayed unmoving for some time. Pearl listened to Bismuth's uneven breaths, bracing for the occasional hitches. Wrapped within Bismuth's arms is an exceedingly comfortable position in which to be, but considering the circumstances, Pearl couldn't quite enjoy it.

As subtly as she could manage, Pearl felt around Bismuth's back and sides to discreetly check for wounds.

Bismuth took a long breath and loosened her hold. Pearl eased back but kept her seat in Bismuth's lap. "I finished a new axe today," Bismuth said, voice slow and stuffy. "For – for Bao, you know, if she ever –" The sentence cut off with a sharp, whining sob, and Bismuth covered her face with a hand. Her shoulders jerked.

Pearl gathered her closer, fighting an insistent sense of paralysis. "There was very little you could have done," she said as firmly as the lump in her throat would allow. "Just considering the logistics, a successful intervention would have been highly –"

Bismuth tensed in her arms, and Pearl swallowed the rest of her speech. She had a vague feeling it was perhaps not very helpful at just that moment.

"It wasn't your fault," Pearl concluded carefully. She gripped the back of Bismuth's neck, running her fingertips over her nape, and Bismuth seemed to collapse into her.

"I was right there," Bismuth mumbled. "I was there."

"Yes. So was I. And you were extraordinary."

"I couldn't – I didn't –"

And that was the crux of the matter, of course. As skilled and brutal and precise as they were, nothing on the battlefield was a guarantee. They both knew this, so Pearl could think of nothing to say that wouldn't be dishonest.

She held on more tightly instead. Wrapped her arms around Bismuth's neck and her legs around her waist, wishing very intently that she could keep her safe from these intangible dangers, could transfer perhaps by osmosis even a fraction of the feelings of safety and confidence and capability that Bismuth always inspired in her.

Eventually, Bismuth's sobs quieted and the shaking wound down and she sagged onto Pearl, who unhooked her feet from around Bismuth's back in order to brace herself. She wanted to support Bismuth in any way she could, and of all those ways, physically was always the simplest.

When Bismuth's breathing remained steady for a sufficiently reassuring while, Pearl eased back, keeping her hands in contact with Bismuth's body. Just for her peace of mind.

Bismuth rubbed an open hand over her face. "Sorry bout that," she said with an asymmetric smile, her breathing thick and heavy. "It gets hard."

"It's all right," Pearl said, tentative. "We all know you're the sentimental one."

Bismuth guffawed. A positive sign. "The sentimental one, am I?"

"That's right." Pearl tilted her chin up. "And I am the even-tempered one, of course."

"Of course." Bismuth leaned over, lightly brushing her lips over Pearl's before scooping her up and rolling easily to her feet. She bounced her a couple of times in her arms, making Pearl laugh stiltedly. "You were ready to give me a piggyback ride all the way to Rose's magic eyeballs."

"The intensity of my concern was perfectly appropriate to the circumstances," Pearl protested.

"Looking all over your shoulder for potential threats," Bismuth continued. "You'd have dug a trench around me and put up a bunch of holo-watchdogs."

"If the situation called for it."

"Stuck your flag in the ground, struck a heroic pose. Poofed anything within spearing distance."

"As I've said." Pearl sniffed. "Even-tempered."

Bismuth laughed; Pearl could feel the vibrations of it in her chest, flooding her with giddy relief. She hooked an arm over the back of Bismuth's neck and drew herself up to kiss the corner of that thrilling smile. Bismuth turned just enough to meet her lips.

When she drew back, Pearl cleared her throat, fidgeting with the straps of Bismuth's apron. "Are you – uh –?"

"I'm good," Bismuth said, shifting Pearl in her arms so she could run careful fingers over Pearl's forehead, along her gem. "As fun as it is crying alone, I like crying with you much better."

Pearl's face burned. "That's, uh. Yes. Thank you."

"Hey, did you know, I love you rather a lot," Bismuth murmured, leaning in temptingly close. Ever so physically and verbally demonstrative.

"See," Pearl said in between gentle kisses, feeling reverent and protective and very vindicated. "Sentimental."