hit 'em with the aro beam

“You’re supposed to say yes, of course we’ll be friends!” Sausage says, warmly playful. “Put a little enthusiasm in it, Pix!”

“I think you have me confused with Hermes,” Pix says mildly. Sausage doesn’t seem genuinely offended, so he accepts Sausage’s gentle pat on the back of his hand when he’s done. “Thank you! I knew it’d be worth coming all this way.”

Sausage beams. “You’re very welcome!”

Sausage has his hands full in Sanctuary. He’s been looking tired lately, hungry for a breath of calm. So Pix says, ”I was thinking of having some tea before I go. Would you join me?”

The company is nice. Sausage, for all his winking games, doesn’t actually push further than Pix can bear.

—

Scott sighs, looking over the flowering fields from his perch in the window seat. “We did figure it out in the end. Or Shelby did.”

Pix follows his gaze. There by the fields, a llama pen. It’s a good view from this room in Chromia’s tavern. “I didn’t even have to break into the mysterious stash of cursed scrolls about it. That worked out well.”

Scott gives him a sidelong look. “Would you have?”

Pix chuckles. “I like that you didn’t question that I would have a stash of cursed scrolls.”

Scott shrugs. “You seem like you would.” He sighs, drawing up his knees and resting his chin on them. “It’s… weird. I’m still kind of expecting him to start talking when I walk by now. I used to travel with my family, and we had llamas too, but if I wanted to talk to someone, I’d just talk to my parents? Chromia gets visitors, but it’s… different.”

“I don’t suppose you’re thinking of turning him back,” Pix says, turning from the window to look through his bag.

“No,” Scott says. There’s a note of longing in his voice. “I just… I guess I realized I missed the company? The non-llama company.”

“Oh,” Pix says. He glances over his shoulder. There’s a distance in Scott’s gaze that Pix is familiar with. Whatever Scott needs, he’ll be better off chasing the horizon for it than looking for it here with Pix.

—

The ancient capital is peaceful. Forever sunlit, golden. In the froglight orchard, dodos wander. Pix speaks to them, sometimes, taking notes on their mannerisms, their stomping dances and ruffled feathers, but mostly the landscape rolls on, untouched by human voices. He pulls ruins from the ground, day by day. He has his hands, his tools, his work. And when the mood takes him or the light projections falter, he has the shade of the goddess statue and early afternoon naps in the sun-warmed dirt. In solitude, he picks fruit off the trees. In solitude, he carves stone from underground. When he gets visitors, they do not overstay their welcome. He is warmed by everything.

—

Katherine has joined him at the campfire, allowing at last for the possibility that the logs are not going to cover her skirts in mud. Oli’s asleep — it’s been a long day of festival organizing for the bard — and Katherine’s grown quiet, speaking softly while she pokes at the fire.

“I might love her?” Katherine whispers despairingly.

“I see,” Pix says. He watches her stick catch, burn until she has to drop it into the flames. “I’m afraid we’ve wandered out of my domain of expertise.”

Katherine sighs. “Yeah, I thought maybe… I dunno.”

Pix doesn’t know either, so he says, “Maybe try talking to Sausage about it. Would you like another stick?”

They keep the fire going. Oli starts snoring and they exchange amused looks.

—

“Lucky for you that I was awake at this hour,” Pix says, sitting Joe down on his favourite rock. He sets a torch down to see by. “You came a long way just to see me.”

“I was in the area,” Joe says, slightly too strained to be properly dismissive. “Now can you get this poison out of me before I throw up?”

“Yep, drink this.” Pix passes the bottle over, uncorked, and Joe gulps it down without hesitating. It is nice, Pix remembers, to be trusted.

Joe groans as soon as he stops for breath. “Thank goodness.” He folds forward, almost draping himself over Pix.

“Joey,” Pix says warningly.

“Mm, sorry,” Joe mutters, letting Pix move back. “This is a really nice rock.”

“It is,” Pix agrees. “Stay there for a minute, we should make sure the poison’s actually neutralized before you try flying.”

“Aye aye,” Joe says. “God, Pix, you would not believe the day I’ve had.”

Pix sits, opposite him. “Yeah?”

—

“Piiiiiiix,” Oli calls, hurling out of the sky on invisible wings like a comet.

“Oh!” Pix looks up and steps out of the way for Oli to crash to earth. “Hello!”

“You were supposed to catch me,” Oli says, rolling over forlornly.

“You’re back to steal from my catacombs,” Pix says mildly. “And, again, you have to give me a little more warning than that.”

“Well, I—” Oli sputters, pushing himself upright. “What’s a little thieving between friends, eh?”

“Most of my supply of golden apples, recently.” Pix holds his hand out to help Oli up. “I was looking forward to those, you know. If you’re going to be thieving, I expect compensation.”

Oli shakes his head. “What do you think thieving is, Pix? The lack of compensation is the whole point!” He snickers, thereby undermining his point a little.

“Thieving, as far as I can tell, is asking me to think of us as friends when you’re mostly here to steal and pester me,” Pix says, amused. Oli is entertaining. It’s not that Pix doesn’t like Oli. It’s just he keeps insisting— “It’s like you think I’m some kind of bottomless supply of dyes. That’s Chromia you’re looking for.”

“I don’t know that Chromia’s bottomless,” Oli says, with a musing air.

“Regardless,” Pix says. “I only let people treat me like a resource if they can offer some kind of compensation.”

Oli waggles his eyebrows.

“Not like that.”

Oli sighs as grimly as a cat that has been denied an early dinner. “All right, all right. I’ll sing for my supper, how’s that?”

“Oh?” Pix says. “Does the bard have new music?”

“He does!” Oli pulls out his lute and waves it around in a way that strikes Pix as possibly unwise. Pix, detecting that he’s expected to based on how Oli squints at him, begins clapping and cheering.

“Hey, Katherine?” Shelby says. She’s careful about sticking to her half of the table, even though Katherine’s threads and needles regularly wind up on top of her papers or nestled next to her books. She’s tracing her finger over her place in the volume she’s reading now.

“Mhm?” Katherine says, privately relieved to not be fighting with this knot in her thread for a moment. She sets her work down: a hat adored with a handful of pale pink flowers.

“Do you think— Hm.” Shelby gives up trying to keep track of her place and props her chin up on her hand. It looks kind of silly in a way that suits her, her overalls and her droopy hat pushed back so the brim isn’t in her face. “You’re a princess, right? Do princesses, like, do the whole dating thing?”

Katherine pokes at her needle on the table and then remembers that she probably shouldn’t do that. “I mean, I don’t know? I don’t think about it a lot.” Her parents think about it, she’s pretty sure; they’ve been thinking about it more since her eighteenth birthday. They are too wary of the curse to bother much, though. Bad enough she’s cursed, what if the grandchildren come out cursed? Katherine tries not to think about it.

“Would you ever?” Shelby asks. “Think about it, I mean. Or do— stuff. About it.”

“Stuff,” Katherine says slowly, eyes narrowing.

There’s something satisfying about watching Shelby flush pink. It makes Katherine feel less bad about being so easy to embarrass herself. It doesn’t do to be a princess who can’t hide what she’s feeling when she has dinners and opening ceremonies and tours to attend, but it’s easier to not feel any of that with Shelby, when it’s just the two of them working quietly on the things they need to get done.

“Well, you know, I don’t—” Shelby fidgets. “Okay, I, like, never actually told anyone? I almost told my grandma, but then the train was gonna start and if I didn’t get on then I’d just miss it and all my teachers already thought I was this horrible screw-up anyway—” She clears her throat and her voice goes soft like a cat’s belly. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Yeah!” Katherine says. “Yeah, totally. I’m great at that.”

Shelby gives her kind of a dubious look. She breaks first though: starts giggling until Katherine’s laughing too.

“What?” Katherine yelps. “I am! I am, I promise.”

Shelby sighs and fidgets with her hat. “I just think— maybe there are some kind of relationship I don’t want to have?” She stops fidgeting with her hat. “Like, ever. I don’t know, maybe I just haven’t tried it enough, and it’s not like I’d never fall in love or anything, but I— I don’t know.” She says the next part fast and sort of laughing, as if it’s a joke she doesn’t get but knows is funny: “Maybe there’s just something wrong with me.”

“What, really? Never?” Katherine asks. “In your whole life? That’s a long time.”

Shelby shrugs. “Maybe? Is that— Do you think that’s bad?”

Something is clicking into place in Katherine’s chest. She imagines pulling it out. She tries to imagine pulling it out. “I don’t know,” she says, picking up her thread again, twirling the needle around in her fingers. “I’ve never heard of anyone actually doing that before. But then again, I’ve never heard of your swamp… things. Before.”

Shelby flips a page in her book. Flips it back. “That’s not a good sign.”

Katherine taps her needle on the table, eyes going to the knot she’s trying to unpick. “I mean, I don’t think I could do it.”

—

“It’s so nice here,” Shelby says softly, like an olive branch, coming up beside Katherine to look out over the water. The cliffs loom over them, and the shadow of the Greatbridge stretches long in the fading light.

Katherine says, “Yeah. It’s a nice view.”

“I’m not used to being able to see this much,” Shelby says. She sounds close by, so close she could be speaking right into Katherine’s ear. Is that just the breeze, or an idea of body heat? “Not a single tree in the way…”

“Oh,” Katherine murmurs, curling one arm up to her chest, then the other. She knows she looks silly, hands vaguely clasped over her sternum, but— It’s hard, suddenly. Looking at Shelby might remind Katherine that she can see Katherine too. “Right. Because your place has all the— mangrove.”

“Every time I chop some down I swear more grows in its place overnight!” Shelby singsongs, before laughing, uneasily. “Um. So. Are you packing stuff up from the festival?”

“Yeah, I was just— grabbing a few little things. Don’t want to waste them, you know,” Katherine says, aiming for light. “You?”

“Some leftover potions,” Shelby supplies. “I could— We could—?”

Katherine nearly bites her own tongue. She’s so tired. Still, she makes her voice come out teasing. “We could…?”

Shelby giggles, as if she’s forgotten. Somewhere behind their backs, the place she and Pirate Joe tried to kill each other. She did kill him.

It’s like searching through the dark for a chest hiding something she knows by touch better than by sight: Katherine finds a smile and puts it on. “What,” she says. “You have to tell me. To make it up to me.”

And now that she’s said it, she turns her head to look. Shelby’s taken off her hat, is holding it in front of her, gripped tight in both hands like she’s worried the faint wind will take it away. “I’m sorry,” Shelby says quietly. “For the fight. It— It was important, Katherine, I didn’t know how else to get him to leave you alone.”

Before the festival, that funny archaeologist came by to help Katherine with the redstone. Pix. He was nice. Oli the bard was there too. The two of them, they traded quips like candy and brought her in on the joke when they remembered to. It was easy to talk them, easier because no one was watching. Katherine doesn’t get it, why she feels so watched now.

Katherine puts her hands down. “It’s… okay. It’s fine. Neither of you—” She laughs, feeling vaguely hysterical. “Neither of you were listening to me anyway. So. Maybe it’s for the better that you found a way to work things out!”

Shelby murmurs, “I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah,” Katherine says. “I know. You were saying…?”

“Um. Oh! The potions. I was gonna say we could share a bottle? I don’t know what all of them do, but if you’ve got some time…” Shelby trails off. Katherine watches her grip tighten on her hat, then relax. She puts her hat back on. “They’re all reversible effects, pinkie-promise.”

Katherine takes a breath and is quietly, intensely grateful that Shelby lets her, standing there with a glimmer of worry in her expression. “Yeah. Yeah! That sounds fun.” She steels herself and takes Shelby’s hand. “Can I tell you something?”

Shelby’s hand in hers squeezes; the look on her face is flustered and it’s kind of— Katherine swallows. Shelby’s gotten stronger. The physical labour of tearing down trees, of tromping through mud to build a place for herself in the Evermoore. Katherine should visit; she keeps saying it and she never does.

“Anything,” Shelby says.

“I was thinking about that thing you said,” Katherine murmurs. Part of her, born and trained for this, reminds her to speak clearly. The rest of her knows this is a secret just for Shelby. “The thing about not wanting some kinds of relationships? I might— I might be like that too.”

“Oh,” Shelby says, surprised. “Oh! Oh! You’re— You’re like me?”

Katherine is probably squeezing Shelby’s hand too tight. She admits it, all in a rush like pushing a weight off its pedestal: “I don’t think I ever want to fall in love.”

“Wait,” says Shelby, her fingers curling tight around Katherine’s. Her voice gets small enough to pierce through Katherine’s ribs like a needle. “Ever?”

—

“Shelby,” Katherine calls, following the flash of pale colours, around the corner, into the main hall. It’s deserted, cleaned up already, and it’s just the two of them. The space feels unspeakably vast. “Shelby, wait.”

Shelby whirls on her heel and spreads her arm out wide, almost knocking over a potted plant. “Yeah?” she says. She takes another step back. “What? I don’t think we have anything left to say to each other, Katherine.”

“No, please,” Katherine says. “Shelby, I—” She gestures. Shelby’s dress is pale, immaculate. She looks gorgeous. “You seem like you need help. I can— I can try, I swear.”

“Try?” Shelby says, eyes narrowing in disbelief. “I’ve seen you try, Katherine. Whatever this is—” she waves a hand at her own body “—you can’t fix it. You can’t even fix yourself! You wanna know why I think the curse hasn’t broken yet? I think you know you can’t.”

“What?” Katherine says. She stops moving, but Shelby takes another step back, away from her. “No, I— I mean maybe if I just try something else— If we sit down and talk about it together—”

“Nah,” Shelby says. Then she laughs, and it’s her laugh, this is still, somehow, horribly, Shelby, but it makes Katherine force her own shoulders down, school her expression. “Look at you! You even told me, didn’t you? I think you’ll never fix the curse because you’re broken. Because whatever’s supposed to be in your heart isn’t there, and the only thing that could’ve saved you is something you don’t even want! I tried, Katherine. You were busy—” Shelby takes another step back “—playing pretend. I’m going.”

There’s one thing in life that Sausage has always wanted. And that was someone to love. Not as a friend, he already has plenty of those. Somebody to love. Somebody to hug and kiss and cuddle. Somebody to shower in care and affection and whisper sweet nothings to. Somebody who he would die for.

However, there’s a problem. No matter how hard he’s tried to find somebody to fill those requirements, he can’t.

He’s dated before, lots of people. At first, he thought maybe he was just dating jerks, but after raising the bar, he didn’t get his desired results. He didn’t get any in fact, he’d raised the bar too high. So he lowered it, maybe too much, which resulted in him dating Xornoth. And after dating them and royally screwing up his life, the bar now floats in some undefined limbo.

Now Sausage doesn’t know where to stand on love. He was very discouraged from his past experiences, but he refused to give up on falling in love.

“I just don’t get it,” Sausage complains, flopping onto fWhip’s bed.

“Don’t get what?” fWhip asks, glancing at him.

“Why can't I fall in love?”

“Maybe because you keep dating jerks? And get off my bed I’m trying to make it.”

Ignoring the request, Sausage sighs dramatically, “But still, it can’t be that hard!”

fWhip scoffs and tosses a blanket over Sausage. “It is, in fact, that hard. Besides, aren’t you already in love with Jimmy?”

“I’m not ‘in love’ with him, we aren’t even dating,” Sausage corrects, pulling the blanket off his face. “Besides, he’s already dating Scott. So unless they break up, which I doubt they will, I don’t have the chance to try and fall in love with him.”

“Thank goodness. I would never forgive you if you tried to date him.”

Sausage takes one of the pillows and throws it at fWhip, making him break out into giggles. “Meanie!” He shouts.

fWhip throws the pillow right back, which starts a short pillow fight between the brothers. Once they stop and catch their breath between their giggles, fWhip lays down next to Sausage.

“Seriously, what do you see in him?” fWhip asks.

Sausage thinks for a moment before answering. “Well, he’s nice, he’s funny, he’s pretty, and he makes an adorable face when he’s mad.”

“To each their own I guess.”

“I like him more than I liked Xornoth.”

“I don’t.”

Sausage stared at fWhip in shock. “Really? You like my horrible ex more than your petty rivalry? You like the demon that ruined my life and corrupted my mind and body and abused me and still gives me those horrifying nightmares?”

fWhip looked away. “I don’t. I’m sorry. I hate Xornoth more.”

“Thank you.” Sausage huffed and glared at his brother. He just smiled in response to try and lighten the mood. Sausage had come here for advice and comfort, not to listen to his crush get slandered.

They lay in silence for a few minutes. Does Sausage love Jimmy? Does he want to be his boyfriend? If so, would they ever fall in love? Would it end up like the rest of Sausage's relationships? Would they get married?

Does he even know what it means to be in love with someone?

“fWhip? Have you ever been in love?” Sausage asks quietly.

“Depends on what you mean by ‘in love’.”

Sausage hummed. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t know what it really means. What do you think?”

fWhip lets out a long sigh and sits up. “Sausage, I actually have to finish making my bed and get back to work. Why don’t you try asking Gem? She’s a lot smarter than me with stuff like this.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Sausage says, and he stands up. He puts back on his cloak and follows fWhip out the door. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem. Good luck,” fWhip says as he escorts Sausage out of his house and closes the door behind him.

Now, Sausage is alone. He decides to walk to the Crystal Cliffs so he has some time to think. He already has a pretty good idea of what loving someone would be like, but what does it mean to be in love with someone? It is the thought of wanting to stay with someone forever, right? To want to love them and marry them and never leave their side. To want them to feel the same way about you.

Yeah, that sounds right. That’s probably it.

Thinking back to his experience with Xornoth, he definitely wasn’t in love with them. He thought he was at the time, but he’s since learned better. All relationships before that weren’t nearly as serious, so he was even less in love then. Jimmy and Scott are probably in love, maybe he can ask them what it’s supposed to be like.

He reaches the Crystal Cliffs after twenty minutes or so of walking. Gem is outside, tending to a small bed of flowers.

“I didn’t expect to see you here again so soon,” Gem said when she noticed Sausage approaching. He'd been here the night before, horribly shaken from a nightmare and seeking comfort from his sister.

“I need help,” Sausage explains, nervously wringing his hands together.

Gem stands up and brushes the small bit of dirt off of her. “What did you do this time?”

“Nothing! I just have a question!”

“Ask away.”

“What does it mean to be in love with someone?”

Gem pauses. She turns to look at Sausage with a surprised look on her face. She sighs, adjusts her ginormous hat, and asks. “Sausage, what’s going on?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking-“

“Wow really? I didn’t know you could.”

“-Shut up! I was thinking about love and the future and realized I didn’t really know what it meant to be in love with someone!”

Gem sighs again. “We’re going to have to sit down for this, aren’t we?” Not waiting for an answer, she takes Sausage by the arm and leads him inside her house. They walk upstairs and upon opening the bedroom door, Sausage immediately runs and flops onto her bed.

“I just made that!” She shouts exasperatedly over Sausage’s giggles. “At least take your shoes off!”

He does, along with his cloak. To her utter dismay, he bundles up in Gem’s perfectly made soft blankets and pillows and blinks innocently up to her.

“You are such a nuisance,” She grumbles with no real malice and sits down next to him on the bed. “Now tell me again, what do you want my help with?”

Sausage sighs. “I was thinking about my life and my future and started wondering if I’d ever fall in love.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Because I’ve always wanted to fall in love with somebody.”

“Yeah.”

“But then I realized that I don’t even know what it means to fall in love.”

“Mhm.”

“So I went to fWhip to ask him and he was no help-“

“Unsurprising.”

“-and he told me to ask you instead. Because you’re smart. And now I’m here.”

Gem nods and thinks for a minute. “Well, you were right to come to me and ask. What do you think it means to be in love?”

“Umm… I think it means wanting to stay with a person and love them and want to kiss them forever.”

“Okay,” Gem says as she grabs a small notepad and starts taking notes. What is this, therapy? Sausage already has a therapist! Maybe he should’ve asked them for help instead. “You said you’ve always wanted to fall in love with somebody, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Why? Sausage pauses. Why does he want to fall in love so badly?

“I don’t know,” He confesses. That’s just what he’s always wanted. Falling in love has always seemed so delightful, and he's always been under the impression that you need to fall in love. That you need to date and get married and stay married to somebody forever. “I guess…” Sausage says, “Because I have to?”

“Do you though?”

Does he?

He stays silent for a few minutes, deep in thought. That’s what he’s always been told, by his parents, the books he’s read, his advisors, everyone. You have to fall in love and get married and have children. His kingdom needs an heir. But if he never falls in love he’ll never have a baby. No, that’s not true. He could always have a child with someone he doesn’t love, his parents did, but his childhood was terrible because of it, and he would never choose to bring that on someone else.

“Why do you think you have to?” Gem asks softly when Sausage doesn’t respond.

“So I’ll be happy,” He responds without thinking.

“Do you need to fall in love to be happy? Aren’t you already happy with us? Your friends? Your family? Your citizens?”

She’s right. He is happy. His life is great without a partner. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“So you don't need it to be happy.”

“But I need it to have an heir. And I really really don’t want to have a kid with someone I don’t love. Look how that turned out for me!”

She hums in response and writes some more on her notepad. “That is true. Your heir needs to be biological, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So adoption is off the table. But do you really need to love your spouse to love your child? My parents didn’t love each other but they sure loved me and fWhip.”

Good point. Sausage could probably pull that off just fine. But if he’s already happy and having a child won’t be a problem, then why does he need to fall in love?

“Isn’t that… bad? To never fall in love?” He asks.

“No, it’s not. There’s nothing wrong with never falling in love in your life.”

Sausage blinks. “Oh.”

Gem puts her notepad down and faces her brother. She takes his hands in hers. “Sausage, do you actually want to fall in love, or do you just think you need to?”

“Of course I want to! Everyone does!”

“I don’t,” Gem corrects.

Sausage pauses and stares at her. That doesn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t a person want to fall in love? Is she allowed to do that? Is he allowed to do that?

“You can do that?” He asks, flabbergasted.

Gem bursts out laughing. “Yes, Sausage. Of course, you can. Nobody’s forcing you to fall in love if you don’t want to. I don’t really care whether or not I get married, that’s not my priority in life.”

Sausage sits up and stares at Gem. This contradicts everything he’s ever believed. A wave of relief floods through him and is quickly replaced with confusion and aggravation in a way. Why did he spend his whole life believing a lie? That’s not fair.

Gem softens and says, “I’ll ask again. Do you actually want to fall in love?”

“No,” He hears himself say. “No, I don’t.”

Saying that lifts a weight off his shoulders. All of the pressure that he never noticed he was being crushed to death under dissipates. He doesn’t want to fall in love. He doesn’t want to get married. Why did he think he did? Because he was told he needs to? He doesn’t.

“In fact, now that I think about it, I’ve never… actually been in love with anybody,” He continues. “Not even the people I’ve dated. I don’t-“ A sob tears through his body, interrupting his words.

Gem wraps her arms around him in a warm hug. He accepts it, melting into the embrace and sobbing into her shoulder. Gem runs her fingers through his hair and rocks them back and forth. This is familiar. No matter how confusing Sausage’s life gets, this always stays the same. Gem will always be there for him. Once his cries quiet, he pulls away and looks at her.

“Feel better now?” She asks softly, letting go of the hug and taking Sausage’s hands in her own again. He nods and sniffles. Gem smiles and gently squeezes his hands. “I have something for you.”

– –

It’s been two days since Gem gave Sausage a thick book on sexuality. He’d been confused at first when she placed the book in his hands—he already knows that he’s gay, why would he need to learn more? But she just chuckled, gestured to the bookmark left between the pages, and reassured him that he does in fact need it.

He hasn’t read it yet. To be honest, he’s scared about what he might find. His life and perception of himself was already warped, he didn’t need another mind-blowing experience so soon. But he can’t avoid it forever.

Carefully, he picks up the book from his desk, sits down in the chair, and opens it to the bookmarked page. It’s the beginning of a chapter titled “Asexuality”. That’s a term he’s never heard before. He leans back in his chair and starts reading the chapter.

As he reads he starts to understand why Gem gave the book to him. Almost every doubt and question he’d ever had gets answered. Including the most important one. He’s never fallen in love because he doesn’t want to. His brain just isn’t programmed to. And knowing that’s perfectly normal is comforting.

He finishes the chapter in what feels like minutes despite the hour that has passed. Relaxing in his chair, he sighs. Everything is starting to make sense. It’s a lot, he’ll definitely have to reread the chapter several times again, but he understands himself. And that’s all he wanted.

– –

Gem was shelving books in the library when something slams into her from the side, knocking her to the ground. She cries out, the books in her arms flying everywhere. She turns to see who her now-giggling attacker is and to nobody’s surprise, it’s Sausage.

“Can I help you?” She asks as she pushes her brother off her.

“You already did!” He beams.

“I did? What did I do?”

Sausage picks up the book on sexuality from the pile on the floor and shoves it into Gem’s chest. “This!”

It takes her a moment to recognize the book but her face lights up and she gasps when she does. “Was I right?” Sausage nods and Gem pulls him into a hug. They both laugh in delight and hold each other on the floor of the library.

“I’ve learned that I am aromantic and asexual!” He says proudly once they calm down. “That means-“

“I know what that means,” Gem says with no malice. “How do you feel about knowing that?”

“Like my entire life was a lie.”

“But are you happy? Sad?”

“Oh I’m devastated,” He admits. “I’ve always wanted to fall in love and now I know I can’t. But I’ll be okay. It’s not easy discovering your sexuality, you know!”

Gem laughs again and pulls herself onto her feet. “You will be helping me clean all these books up.” She says as she helps Sausage up. He groans but obliges, picking the books off the floor and helping Gem shelve them.