+*•The Reader•*+

"Steven..? Are you feeling alright?"

That phrase, he'd heard it so many times at this point, he could barely understand it. He'd been home for 5 months, and even still he was constantly asked 'How are you? Are you sure you're ok?' He was oddly growing tired of everyone walking on eggshells around him.

He turned toward the voice, he faced Connie with a gentle smile. "I'm fine, just...thinking."

Connie had come over, she'd been over at his house a lot lately. It was almost as if she lived there at this point. Accompanied by his dad and the Gems, he sat at the back end of the coffee table on the floor, a pillow as his cushion. He insisted to do so, allowing everyone else to be comfortable. Classic Steven behavior. They sat surrounding a puzzle Pearl had probably solved over 100 times on her own, but they hadn't been all together in so long, he took it all in.

Resting his head on his palm, elbow to the table, he began to listen quietly to everyone's conversations. Amethyst was on this odd tangent about a class gone wrong. Something about social cues. He'd never been good at that, nonetheless, he continued to listen. Pearl always replied as a matter of fact-ly. It was in her nature. Garnet would quip in with either some stoic advice or a joke. Greg and Connie seemed to be listening too, cutting in with their own advice on the matter every so often. They listened just like him, quiet and respectful.

Amethyst waved her hand, clearly annoyed with her situation.

"-And then, she just began screaming her order. Like she was convinced we wouldn't be able to hear her otherwise. Not EVERYTHING has to be a battle cry."

Pearl cut in, "Many gems aren't used to being outside of a...combat setting. Maybe you need to change the atmosphere!" Amethyst rolled her eyes playfully as they continued the conversation.

Garnet hummed, nodding in agreement. "I agree with Pearl. Many Gems aren't used to a contemporary life."

Everyone was absorbed into the conversation, leaving Steven almost alone with his thoughts. Brushing his fingers against his lips, he glanced to the cup of cold water next to him that Connie provided beforehand. He stared into the reflection of the glass, swearing he could see something there. He blinked, squinting before his figure began to change in its light. He rubbed his eyes, looking away as an annoying ringing began in his ears.

Steven began to bite down on the tip of his fingernail, his left hand rested on the table. Nothing was wrong, she's gone, dead even. It didn't matter that he was carrying her pieces. How they protruded through his bruised skin, mismatched and scattered. She was dead and couldn't hurt him. So why was he seeing her everywhere? In his own reflection? In his dreams? He felt consumed by the celestial being of light, but it was a light he snuffed out and absorbed long ago. It was gone, and she was gone. Why was he so afraid all of a sudden?

Sweat started to bead at his forehead, his fingers began to tap on the table frantically, every tap slowly growing louder as he adverted his gaze down to the table. The multicolored shards embedded in his skin began to shimmer under the overhead lights. He couldn't focus, he couldn't ground himself. He began to breath heavily as the ringing closed in on him. Connie adverted her gaze from her conversation to glance at Steven who'd been eerily quiet. The sound of tapping almost alarmed her.

She turned her head to face him, then her eyes darted to his left hand. She watched as his fingers spazzed and twitched almost out of control, now off the table. She noticed how she couldn't quite meet his gaze. She grinned nervously. She knew Steven hadn't been the same since they returned, but this felt wrong. She spoke up, forcing everyone to look at him as their conversations came to a slow halt.

"Steven? Is something wrong?"

Steven refused to meet their gaze, it was almost as if he couldn't move. Whatever he was doing, it wasn't his own volition. He moved his right hand from his mouth, biting down on his lip so hard it began to bleed. He began adjusting his grip on the far end of the table, his grip unsteady at its corners as his left hand seemed to twitch more.

It was sudden, like a giant jolt of energy overcame his body. Steven threw his face into the table, the violent sound of his nose cracking echoed through the yelps and screams of the group. Blood splattered across both ends of the hardwood appliance without care for who was watching. He lifted his head once more, his entire body seemed to tense and shake violently as his grip began to crack the table's corners. His face was bloodied, his nose more clearly broken resulting in a contorted expression replacing his once deadpan stare.

He threw his face once again into the table, and again, and again before freezing with his head against the table, the sound of his labored breathing remaining. More blood had splattered further over the table's ends until it began to reach the couch. Pearl and Greg covered their mouths in fear, Amethyst gripped the couch for dear life as if gripping any harder meant he'd stop. Garnet quickly began to stand alongside a weary Connie who began to approach him. The horrific noise of his face connecting to the wood caused everyone to freeze in absolute terror as the sound echoed through their minds.

Connie came to a halt, putting her hand out to stop the daring fusion behind her. She turned back to Steven, whose head was down on the bloody, broken table. She opened her mouth, whispering.

"S-Steven?"

Steven threw his head back up, snapping out of the trance that once held him, before throwing himself on to his back in horror as he began to scream. A loud, shrill scream that made everyone collectively gasp in horror. Pain echoed throughout his face, his ears ringing louder than ever. The overwhelming taste of metal filled his mouth as blood spilled from his lips and onto his black shirt.

He backed away from the table, kicking and shrieking as the shards along his body glistened in protest. Connie rushed to him, Garnet followed close behind her. Garnet wrapped herself around Steven from behind as to restrain him from hurting himself further, as she couldn't bare to look at his bloodied bruised face as he continued to scream into desperate sobs. His left hand continued to shake, his fingers twitching as the shimmering tone of the shards began to dull. He tried to hold his eyes open, his gaze darting around the couch in front of him.

Everyone looked so scared. Why were they looking at him? What was going on? What WAS that?

Connie came in front of him, her hands reaching to grab his face as blood poured like a fountain with no intentions of stopping. She recoiled her hands, and grasped his left hand, gripping it tightly as she dialed her mother's number.

Garnet carried a sullen Steven to his bedroom. His face was covered in bandage, all around his nose. He'd definitely broken it, he didn't need a doctor to tell him that. Oddly enough, he couldn't heal the fracture, only worrying his family further. His vision felt so blurry, he couldn't quite focus over the pain. The bottom of his eyes began to bruise, pooling with blood as if he'd been in a fist fight and more than likely lost.

Connie's mom was kind enough to check him out. She said something about a 'psychotic episode'. Whatever that meant. He couldn't remember anything else from the conversation except for the looks on everyone's faces. How horrified they were.

Garnet gently placed him in his bed, rubbing her hand against his dark brown hair as she sat next to him. She knew he didn't want to talk, she didn't need him to. She turned her head behind herself, she was speaking to someone. Steven couldn't quite make out who as he shuffled and turned his back towards them. Buried in the comfort of blankets, nothing could hurt him there. The familiar voice of the others echoed behind.

"Why would he do that?"

"Does this have to do with White?"

"Is he dangerous?"

That last sentence echoed. Is he? Is he dangerous? He felt like he was. Whatever it was, it wasn't him. He wasn't alone and he hated it. He buried his head underneath his pillow solemnly, his body trembled, shivering. He felt out of control. That wasn't him, someone, no, something else had completely taken over him.

He pressed the pillow down further on his head. At least for this moment, he could drown out the noise. That was, before a soft voice spoke up.

"Steven, are you alright?"