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[Garnet]

"So close together and yet so far apart. Both inside and out."

The pain. It slowly starts to come back, reaching out to me through the veil of slumber. This time less acute.

A nagging soreness is more annoying rather than impairing. It's itching like an aging half-healed wound. The aching has significantly dulled.

As dreams slowly fade away, one of my paws jerks up my chest, trying to evaluate the damage. Expecting the worst. But surprisingly enough, my fingers brush against something rough and earthy. Something's wrapped around my chest.

"Huh?"

My heavy eyelids finally pop open. It takes more than a few seconds to adjust to the dim lighting in the room. Or what's left of it.

The only source of illumination appears to be the red-hot heating coils humming up above.

My rib cage seems to be covered in some sort of... Roots? They look like wooden snakes slithering around my body. Their presence infuses me with a sudden surge of adrenaline that pushes me wide awake.

What is this?

I grab onto them instinctively, trying to rip the overgrowth away. But merely touching it causes a sudden jolt of pain to come crashing down like a hammer.

"Ouch."

It hurts to move.

"D-don't."

Hearing a familiar voice lifts my worries in an instant. My blurred sight makes out a figure sitting by my side.

Jasper. How ironic. The tables turn this time.

He looks so much more different now from how I saw him in my sleep. He has grown. A lot.

His bright green fur is as well-kempt as silk. No more filth, dirt, and corruption staining it. Old wounds and bruises are long gone, hidden under the gloss. All but the brand and the faded scars. Those things aren't going anywhere anytime soon even after he evolved. A constant grim reminder.

His pink eyes seem a little startled by my abrupt awakening as they peek from under that mask-like growth on his forehead.

He awkwardly fidgets on the floor, pulling his paw back from me and hiding it under his knees. A little more sheepish than he usually is.

"I was worried," his effete voice sounds genuinely concerned.

"Aren't you always, sis?" I cut him off with a tease, a sleepy smirk brightening my face.

He pouts almost childishly, raising his arm. As if about to slap me on the wrist, but stops midway. I know he can't. Ha!

"Bum!" he sighs, clearly playing along more than being offended by my snarky remark. He knows me all too well.

"Guilty as charged," I whisper hoarsely.

My throat is sore from all the sea salt and brine. Even thinking about it makes me want to vomit.

"Ugh. But jokes aside" -my fingers softly tap the improvised corset, finally realizing what it is- "thanks, chum. I'm guessing that's your work?"

"Y-yeah. Hazel had to patch you up and... I helped a little," he abjectly replies, rubbing the back of his head.

I'd wager more than just a little. Here he goes, selling himself short again.

I slightly lift myself up, looking over my body. The injuries have healed. At least the majority of them. But the stains are still there. I quickly notice a thick dried up red trail going down my neck. My palm brushes against my cheek, painting itself in the same color.

"Bah" -I raise my voice, looking at the shriveled crimson smears- "was it that bad?"

"I thought you were going to..." he gulps, getting visibly uncomfortable to utter the word he's supposed to finish it with.

Nevertheless, I get the message.

"Die? That's just SWELL," I say with a sarcastic groan, getting a little annoyed with my performance as I slam myself back into what looks like a pile of clothing.

Flimsy. I know I can do much better than that. It must have been embarrassing. If it wasn't for that slippery deck, I would have sent that creature reeling to wherever it came from. I can't believe it flunked so badly.

In contrast to my irritation, Jasper looks distraught as he recalls it all, biting on his claws.

It's somewhat funny that he cares about my safety more than I do. Giving me one of those silent stares. His ears flop down as if he's expecting me to buoy him up.

"What?" my voice still sounds saucy.

Jasper knits his brows. His face gets even more desperate and puppy-like. He isn't playing, is he? Getting all heartfelt and upset at me for taking such things too lightly. He's such a girl, I swear.

"Fiiine. I'm sorry. I'll try to be more careful in the future, alright?" I can't help but roll my eyes while speaking.

"Thank you," he finally responds with his usual soft tone, slightly relaxing his shoulders.

"Look, I was building up a head of steam," speaking through the gritted teeth, I push my back up the broken dresser to assume a half-seated position. Still hurts. "Just got unlucky is all. Next time I'm playing soccer with the serpent's ass. You'll see."

Someone had to step up, right? Or to be chosen to step up. Mom probably had the rest working on the other things for sure.

"I hope that... There won't be a next time," the cat tightly closes his eyes and shakes his head.

I wave my paw dismissively, "Oh COME ON! Don't you want to watch me fling that thing around like a sack of orans?"

"No," he replies with a whisper.

Of course, he doesn't.

I pull up a blank expression, "Killjoy."

"I-I just. Really want to see you getting back on your feet. The fights may wait. Pretty please?"

That wide-eyed look again. Begging me to reconsider. He knows exactly how to get through. Shrewd.

Somehow it stings not to humor him.

I guess the rematch can marinate. For now.

"Alright, uptight. Ding-ding. You win," my bark radiates defeat.

The sounds of his tail softly tapping on the floor mirror the wave of relief warming up his face. Doesn't take that much to make him happy. Wish it can last.

I get it even if I find it hard to relate. I've been doing this ever since I hatched my way into this world. Or so it feels like. Old habits most definitely do die hard.

My paws fold on the stomach, complementing a bored guise. My breaths turn into steam, signifying the chill crawling its way into the ship. Unlike the all-consuming moisture, it brings little discomfort. The sheer heat of my fur creates a haze in the air around me.

"Anyways, that aside. Remind me why are we on the boat again. Sail-abrating good times?" I murmur, clearly unamused.

I hate anything to do with water unless it's in a bowl. Or whatever Mom's giving it to me in.

Meowscarada shrugs, retorting with an awkward smile.

He's probably as confused as I am. Figures. We're in and out of those spheres so often lately that it's getting genuinely hard to keep the tab on what's going on.

"I don't know... The last thing I remember is" -he crosses his legs, trying to make himself more comfortable on the rapidly cooling surface- "her talking to the professor in Vermillion City. A-And then I'm recalled here."

Yup. That much I can recollect myself. Probably doing another errand for the brainbox.

Ugh, it's been such a long while since we did anything other than assisting the highbrows with research. I miss the good old days of kicking doors and taking names in the tournaments. Hope it's important enough to waste our time on.

"Then the attack. She wanted me to fix the dents in the hull. T-the captain was already out of it. The bridge was a mess. We were in trouble-"

"Big time," I interject. "A boatload of problems, eh?"

Jasper slowly hides his face behind his palm with a nervous titter.

Sorry, bud. Can't help it.

"So. Let me get this straight," I look over my bloodied wrist, curiously watching one of the missing claws grow back under the wearing-down effects of medicine. "We're on a craft that's taking its last breaths. In the middle of who knows where. Chasing ghosts and doing who knows what. And I'm stuck in a bed as a bonus. Marvelous."

The cat compunctiously nods. Making it seem like it's his fault somehow. Everything is as far as he's concerned.

His expression shifts into a guilty frown at the mention of the state of things around us.

Now I'm worried.

"What's wrong?" my eyes turn back to him.

"I just..." he lowers down his head, staring at the floor.

"Jasper?" I soften down my voice.

He shrugs again, visibly distraught, "I could have been quicker, I..."

Meowscarada shudders, glancing at the damaged room. His arms wrap around his chest, protecting himself from the seaborn cold starting to sip in. I forget how delicate his kind is when it comes to the drops in temperature.

His mood swings so quickly, it genuinely takes me by surprise.

He looks miserable. His voice turns into a whisper.

"I'm so sorry. I'm a failure. If I-I wasn't slacking off, I would have been back to the main deck in time. I could have been there with you so you wouldn't-"

"Wow, wow, wow. Slow down."

I move myself a little closer. My fingers flick together, striking out a tiny candle flame floating in between them.

"First. Warm up," my paw stretches towards him.

He hesitates for just a few more seconds before finally giving in, compelled by the warmth radiating from the fire. His palms draw near to bask in its comforting glow.

He's shaking. Hard to say whether it's from the chill or the weight of misplaced guilt.

"Buddy," I say with a growl, gathering enough strength to sit.

Jolts of dull pain crack through my muscles. But I'm getting there. Slowly.

"Pal. Look," my words are followed by a soft tap on the shoulder.

He doesn't flinch. That's progress.

"You can't be everywhere at once-"

"But-"

"Shush," I quickly interject.

"You did your part. The fact that this tub's still kicking is already a miracle on itself. Guess who made it so?"

The cat stares at me silently. He knows the answer, but he won't spill it. He always struggles to.

"Come on. Say it," my words sound stern, almost demanding an answer.

"Me..." he mumbles so weakly, it seems like he's unsure of it himself.

Downplaying his efforts is what he does.

"There you go. See? It isn't hard to say it out loud."

The corners of his mouth slightly lift. His eyes glint.

"Let it sink in. Because we aren't, not today" -my face melts into a smug- "you follow?"

Jasper responds with a childish giggle. That's what I'm aiming for. Way to go.

"You're a real dill. So relish in it!" I press on with stupid puns.

"Staaap, I GET IT!" he sounds pleasantly embarrassed, a slight pink hue flushes up his ears.

My smile grows in size, "You better."

The cat awkwardly turns away, struggling to maintain the mutual gaze. I hope the words get where they're supposed to. Confidence was never his strongest suit. We'll have to work on that.

A sigh escapes my lips. Sometimes a shared moment of silence is louder than any speech.

It would have been nice if it wasn't for the nagging feeling of restlessness invading my mind. Having to sit still and wait for whatever's coming our way is jarring. Unbearably so. I'd rather have my plate full of things to do than succumb to bitter apathy.

Where are our friends, anyway? Busy as bees, I bet. Getting stuff done. Ugh.

You know what?

Screw it. I'm sure Meowscarada could use a distraction too. As much as myself.

"Jasper," my voice pulls the cat out of his contemplation.

"What?" his bright eyes turn back to me.

"Sobble's butt" -the flame flickers off as I reach out to him for assistance- "help me stand up. I got enough leisure for today."

"Are you... Sure?" he's unconvinced.

"Ripe as a berry, chums. Come now," I wrap my fingers around his forearm.

"O-okay," he nervously exhales.

A gentle pull lets me regain my footing. My paw grabs onto the table as I fight off the frailty fleeting my body.

I'll be fine. I've been through worse.

My shoulders stretch. I try to take a deep breath to soothe my aching limbs. But when the ribcage expands, a fit of painful cramps comes down on me like a tide.

"Shoot..."

My knees wobble, making it hard to stand. I lean into the piece of furniture to maintain my balance.

"Wait! Don't-"

Something tumbles behind my back.

An ear-piercing sound of glass shattering across the floor forces me to turn around.

The incubator. The last thing I see before the lights go off. The coils emitting them die out with a buzz. The air smells of burnt wiring.

The egg rolls out, pressing itself into my foot.

"Whoops."