Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

–I never got my chance to live,

                                   ‘We used to be friends–’

 ‘I miss you, ya know, but–’                                                           

But who cares!–

‘I kinda have a crush on you….                                     

like for two years now, actually’                                             

–When all my loved ones are gone–

                                                   ‘I found them, Gabbro… 

                                                                         I found feldspar,’

–‘n my home ‘s turned to ash–

                                                  ‘Void take me, 

                                           I’m so tired of 

                                                               existing…’ 

‘Stars, your laugh, it’s like sunlight–’                                        

–And I’ll never get my chance to say–

‘I wish I told you so much sooner–'                      

     '… I love you…'                                                                         

–goodbye–

–‘Cause it’s all burned away–

                                                                                … End it…

                              …You know what must be done…

                                                                            …There is no saving them from this…

                                                                                                                           …Just end it…

There in the darkness, among the dying universe, Gypsum stood silently. The music had ended… Or maybe it hadn’t… Gypsum had stopped playing though, had stopped carrying, long before now. If life was so easily snuffed out, there was no point in playing anymore, and there never was to begin with. 

They.

Felt. 

Nothing. 

Nothing for the music, it was pointless, but they did feel something deep down in their hollowed-out bones. 

They felt grief—

Grief for their people, how the elders would no longer be able to pass on the history they had been woven from,  how the hatchlings would never get their chance to grow old, and how they, themself, would never have a chance to have their own hatchlings…

It felt like electricity ran through every limb. A bitter taste lingered on the back of their tongue. Painful pricks built up in their eye sockets and they fought the urge to scream into nothing…

Hadn’t they been done with this mourning business a long time ago? 

...

Even after all of this time, they still refuse to cry, especially for themself.

✦

Gypsum sat with their legs crossed on the ship’s floor. Their mountain dulcimer in their lap thrummed with that familiar comforting twang as they tuned it. Vibrations traveled through them, and it soothed that part of their mind that was still not ready to let go. Gabbro sat across from them, stretched out as much as they could be, and watched Gypsum fidget away. They played a few notes, perfect, it was always satisfying to hear an instrument align. A rhythm began as they tapped on the body of the dulcimer, showing them the tempo they wanted to play at. Gabbro placed their flute to their mouth and mimicked the way Gypsum hummed.

“I know it’s dumb, but it’s the only way I can share how I feel… at all…”  Gypsum said and they strummed their way into a conversation. “Used to do this all the time, before all this madness, I’d hide away and play my heart out, and the words would always find their way to me,” they swallow hard and let a nervous chuckle escape, “I’ve never done this with an audience before. Don’t judge me too hard Gabs…” a grounding breath.

“You know, I don't think I ever told you about my experience with the Nomai statue. I had gone to speak with Hornfels, launch codes, ya’know. Hal met me down at the entrance and wished me luck, and you know how they are, always worried over me, they were right to. I grabbed the codes and raced to finally start my life, before I made it into the entrance that damned thing turned and stared straight into my soul.

"I was terrified.

But I couldn’t look away.

I couldn’t bring myself to sway–”

They exhaled another nervous laugh.

“I was awakened–

to a horrible reality–

We were forsaken–

to an eternity–

Of twenty-two minutes…

only twenty-two…

What was there to even do–

Before  the sky turned to a white-hot blaze 'o blue–

“So–

this situation ‘s more than dire–

And we’re all gonna die–

Go kiss all of your loved ones goodbye–

‘Cause the sun’s endin’–

in a never endin’ ring of fire–

“I never got my chance to live–

But who cares!

all my loved ones are gone–

my home ‘s turned to ash–

and I’ll never get the chance to say–

Goodbye

‘Cause it’s all been burned away–

In this loop that time forgot–”

Gabbro had stopped playing then, and Gypsum tried so hard to ignore the way they looked at them.

“there’s no use in tryin’–

When the universe is dyin’–

Guess there’s no use in dwell–in’

But I’m stuck in this never endin’ hell– ‘n

There is no escapin’ it

this never endin’ ring of fire–”

They couldn’t bring themself to look up once it was all done, their face burned, and they wanted to hide away. Why did they convince themself that that was a good idea? A pressure built up behind their eyes and they buried their face in their hands. Partly because they didn’t want to cry, mostly to obscure themself. Maybe in hopes they would become unrecognizable to the universe and it would just leave them alone.  A gentle tug at their wrist brought them back before they could begin a spiral.

“Those were some pretty heavy words… did you want to talk about it?” Gabbro asked. They had crawled their way across the floor, resting on their knees in front of Gypsum, glossy eyes and all.

It felt like their heart was in a vise.

“No, I don’t want to talk about it,” because it's pointless, Gypsum tried to sound neutral when they answered. The way Gabbro seemed to flinch back, told them they’d failed.  “You’re lucky you got that,” they said, attempting to sound playful. To get a rise and lighten the mood. Why were they trying so hard when none of this mattered. 

Gypsum just wanted Gabbro to be happy on the final loop, but they insist on digging up everything they’ve tried so hard to bury. The image of dirty hands, caked in mud and ash of a long dead forest, hung ethereal in their mind's eye. Hopelessly digging for something that would never be found.

They were familiar hands yet unrecognizable.

Gabbro sat on their hip next to them, legs bent in, and shoulder pressed against the wall. “Ok,” was all they said, but they seemed to be silently pleading for an actual conversation. After a long moment had passed they relented and placed their forehead against Gypsum’s and hummed quietly. “I need to tell you something, Gypsum, I don’t want to leave it unsaid.”

Stars, don’t say what I think you’re gonna say…

“You are so kind and caring… I know I’ve told you this so many times before, but I mean it every single time…” 

Please, don’t…  

“I wish I told you so much sooner–“

“Gabbro, don’t–” Gypsum surprised themself with their own outburst, and tears were flowing from them before they could stop it. “If what you’re about to say is true, please, don’t finish it…” Sobs tore through their body, “because I can’t–” their grief choked out any words they tried to speak.

Gabbro wiped away their tears. 

“Ok…”

✦

Even after all of this time… they were still a fucking liar. 

✧

Every word, spoken and unspoken, filled Gypsum’s heart, weighing it down until it sank below the surface of the muck and mud and dead pine needles. A fitting burial.

Numb ...

They willed themself to become numb, to get this done with, to let the universe end and begin anew. To let their loved ones end… and strangers take their place… 

Everything fades into emptiness… 

An unexpected rage boiled below their ribs that spread to their lungs and throat, igniting their final breath into a scream. 

“LET THEM LIVE!” 

Their final plea… 

A bright light sparked.

It spread and consumed the void. 

… 

Chapter Text

When Gypsum imagines what the inside of a heart looks like, they see a forest.

It’s in eternal twilight, and anyone you have ever loved lives there, just out of sight. Only ever catching glimpses of them if you look hard enough. Conversations echo through the branches in facets, catching light and reflecting back memories. Special interests of the Hearthian decorate the branches and ground, ever-changing, the way that people do. Fireflies drift about the pine, their light ebbs and flows like the tides of a heartbeat.

 Gypsum can remember the first time they became aware of the forest. 

✧

In their early hatchling hood, when they were barely out of the single digits, there was a fire in the crater. It burned a few cabins down before it could be contained, and all hatchlings were evacuated to the cliffs where they had a front row seat to the blaze that tried to consume the village. That day, Chert lost their parents to the hungry flames, and the whole village felt their loss. And that day, a fear planted itself deep into Gypsum’s mind. The idea of losing Gossan, Slate, and Hal led to horrible nightmares that led to sleepless nights spent crying in the lap of an increasingly exhausted Gossan. On a particularly bad night, Slate stepped in and took them for a walk. The sun had barely set by the time they made it to the edge of the crater wall. 

✦

“All right, climb on up,” Slate said as they adjusted their small bag to clamber up the ladder easier. When Gypsum didn't make a move towards the ladder, Slate huffed, “c’mon, we ain’t got all night, Gyps, get a move on.” They nudged Gypsum towards it. “I–” Slate cut themself off, “… I’ll be right behind you, pebble, I promise.” The unexpected reassurance is what had made them climb, even more so how gently it was said. 

“Opie, wh– why did we come up here?” Gypsum asked, too afraid to look down. 

Slate said nothing, only sat on the edge and patted the space next to them, beckoning them to sit. They had removed a small old jar from their bag while they waited for Gypsum to join. They had started punching holes into the old lid with an equally old pocket knife. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Makin’ holes so the fireflies can breathe,” Slate said, placing the jar out of Gypsum’s reach. 

“Why?“ Gypsum asked reflexively. 

“‘Cause the fireflies are gonna be out soon, ya knucklehead,” Slate chuckled and held a steady hand on Gypsum’s arm as they finally moved to sit next to them, just in case. 

“Yeah, no duh, but why are we here ? I don’t want to be here… ” they sat and crossed their legs and arms.

“We’re here ‘cause you won’t let anyone get any sleep…” Slate patted Gypsum rough on the shoulder and they felt themself deflate. “I thought it would be nice to getcha out for the night… maybe talk about it…” 

When Gypsum looked up at Slate, they were staring out over the horizon. They followed their opie’s line of sight and found on the other side of the crater was a small campfire. A group was there, they seemed to be laughing, and playing music, and just having a grand time. 

“How can they just move on…” Gypsum asked 

“They haven’t moved on, pebble, they still hurt… that hurt doesn't just go away…” Slate answered. 

Gypsum looked down into the crater, seeing the blackened remains of the cabins wasn’t easy. This was the same spot where all the hatchlings had watched the cabins burn. If they closed their eyes long enough, they could still see an intense glow fill the crater. Gypsum sank into Slate’s side and their opie tucked them under their arm. Tears sprang up from their eyes and their mouth ran faster than their mind could think. 

They poured all their fears onto Slate, and they listened. 

“I see… that all seems pretty scary,” Slate said, they turned the closed pocket knife in their hand running a thumb over the handle. “This is probably gonna sound harsh…” their arm tightened around Gypsum’s shoulders, “but Gyps, you can’t go on worryin’ about us dyin’. We all die and we don’t know when it’s gonna happen, but if you spend all your time worried over it, you’re gonna lose time, time that could’ve been spent havin’ fun and enjoyin’ the company of those who’re left before they’re gone too,” Slate passed the knife to Gypsum. When they moved their hand, it revealed a worn engraving of the name ‘Malachite’ on the handle.​​​​

Gypsum ran their fingers over each letter carved into the wooden handle. A firefly flew up from the grass between the two. Slate gently reached out and cupped the firefly in their palm. They let it crawl to the back of their hand as they grab the jar and give it to Gypsum. 

“I think it’s ‘bout time we start catchin’ these little critters… maybe even sneak over to that party ‘n see what they got cookin’.”

“D’you think they got marshmallows?” Gypsum said as they wiped their eyes and nose on their sleeve.

Slate gave them a big grin, “Only one way to find out, let’s go crash a campout!”

✦

That was one of the best nights of their short little life. It was a night full of friends and fireside stew and bare feet, running through the damp grass, playing tag and catching fireflies. When they first arrived at the campfire, Gypsum was certain that slate had planned this whole thing. Considering who was at the campfire. Feldspar and Hornfels had bought Riebeck and Gabbro out camping. To Gypsum's surprise, Chert was there too. 

After all the playing and the delicious food, Gypsum was tired. So tired that when they curled up next to Slate, who was lounging next to the campfire discussing the next big ventures’ project with the other founders present, they had fallen asleep almost instantly. And, thankfully, they didn’t see a burning crater or the absence of their family. They saw the forest. It was full of fireflies. One drifted close enough for them to touch, they caught it like they had so many times already, they collected more until they were satisfied, then they observed the fireflies. Each one they concentrated on made them feel something different. They felt happiness, they felt sadness, they felt guilty for being happy, but the longer they observed them the less they felt these emotions so strongly, and they understood them a little more. 

✧

Over time it became a habit to collect and observe these fireflies, and after a while,  they started leaving the jar shut for longer periods of time. They remember vividly the day they stopped opening the jar all together.  It was a tragic series of events, a terrible chain reaction. Feldspar disappeared, Gabbro was devastated, then Gossan lost their eye. With that, the search for Feldspar was called off… Chert was the only other astronaut at the time, Hornfels and Slate decided it wasn’t worth the risk of sending them to their possible doom. Riebeck and Gabbro were only a few years off for their solo launches. But that didn’t matter, of course it didn’t, not when every second counted in the search for the wayward astronaut. 

Gypsum decided they were responsible, and they needed to be there for everyone, that they would never cry again, that they had no right to. 

They didn’t cry when they thought Gossan was dead, they didn’t cry when the metal shrapnel filleted their face or when their ear was barely attached to their head, and they most definitely didn’t cry when Gabbro stopped coming around. Gypsum was sure Gabbro blamed them for everything. 

It was stupid to assume they hated them, but Gypsum was a stupid teen. 

From then on, all they could think about was how much they had failed everyone,and how they would just keep failing… They kept the jar sealed tight hoping it would suffocate it all but everything inside only multiplied. When it got to be too much, physical pain helped make the emotional pain hurt less. 

Everything was ok for a while, they had plenty to distract them from the unpleasant reminders, happy memories to make. There were things to discover and music to play and new friends to make and people to flirt with… but when they were alone, those old feelings would crawl their way out somehow, and it was painful in ways they couldn’t describe. 

When the loops started, they didn’t have their distractions anymore. All they had were memories. When they imagined their heart with every loop it was like the aftermath of a devastating fire. 

No music.

No laughter. 

Just pain. 

Everything was dead.

Except the jar… Everything they kept in it was thriving and with every loop, it would glow a little brighter, until its contents shone as bright as a star. It wasn’t peaceful or beautiful, it was violent and angry and burned their insides, so they tried burning their outside. They tried to kill the pain, to hide it away, but it became harder every attempt. If Gypsum got rid of this pain… they would have nothing left of home. 

At least they had Gabbro back, even if it was only for a little while…   

✧

Gypsum held their chest as Gabbro’s unspoken words reverberated through their heart. 

The strange sensation caused them to gasp. That shouldn’t be possible. 

 None of this should be possible… 

Wake up. 

Another gasp escapes them, and Giant’s Deep is overhead in its familiar space, framed by the cliffs and pine, the launch tower, its pedestal. One thing stands out. The orbital probe cannon was already broken. Slate is still roasting a marshmallow, but it comes dangerously close to the flames, and they have their free hand rubbing at their eyes. Slowly, Gypsum got to their feet.

“You alright, Gymmie? You look about how I feel,” Slate chuckled. 

All they did was point, “‘s broken,” they managed before their throat pinched closed and sent them into a coughing fit. Gypsum tried to speak again but their throat burned like they had been screaming for an eternity, but it was only a second. A second that stretched across an eternity…  maybe that was it. Yeah, it was probably that. Slate’s gaze had followed to where they had pointed. 

“Wh– I … when did that… wait, wasn’t it always broken?” they said. They were clearly confused, which made Gypsum’s confusion clear. “No it wasn’t… I don’t think it was?” The marshmallow caught fire and Slate didn’t notice. 

“Sla–” another cough choked out their voice, “‘s on fire.”

“Aw shit,” they quickly blew the flame out and frowned, “Looks like you got a gift for Gabbro now, charcoal, just the way they like it.” Slate snickered before tossing it back into the fire but they didn’t replace it. They just kept glancing at the broken cannon.

An emptiness washed over Gypsum after hearing their name, they hurried to the lift. As they entered the launch codes Slate, of course, started to voice their confusion. “I got the codes before camping,” they said. Their throat still hurt enough to make them want to clear it. 

“Those fumes must be more toxic than I thought.”

“Yeah, but I think it’s just because you’re old.”

 They ride the lift up before Slate could sass back. Their body carried them through the same steps, the same motions, the start of the same maddening 22 minutes… but it wasn’t the same, was it? Gypsum stared at the dirty old mechanic's rag laid over the headrest of the pilot’s chair. It’s in the same spot they left in the last loop. They froze, that last part repeated in their mind like an echo. 

The last loop. 

There was only one person Gypsum wanted to see, and one they needed to see. 

This was it, their final first solo launch. 

As they broke through the atmosphere they instinctively sought out Giant’s Deep. An image of Gabbro graced their tired mind, their smile mischievous… not their smile… the smile they inherited– the face they inherited. 

They set a course for Dark Bramble.