Chapter Text
Gem pulled the strings on her elytra, the ones Pearl had painted with beautiful lilies and roses, to open them and jumped out of the left eye socket of her base, not bothering to light off any rockets. Her destination was close, after all.
She landed on the deck of her little fishing boat starter base, stumbling slightly and taking a heart or two of damage as she rushed the landing. Pulling on the elytra strings again to settle them against her back again, she opened her inventory with a soft click, searching for food to replenish lost health. Gem grabbed a loaf of bread, closing her inventory with a flick of her wrist and pulling chunks out of the breadroll-like loaf with her left hand. After a few bites, she flicked the bread away, refocusing on her original task.
Gem opened the door to the captain’s quarters/bedroom of the boat, removing her sunhat and putting it on a peg next to the door and replacing it with a stethoscope around her neck.
The kid—or at least Gem was fairly sure they were a kid—was still where she had left them the other night. They were tense even in ‘rest’, face slightly scrunched and muscles tight. Gem had long since replaced their old, ragged, and bloody clothes—which sat on a chair in her main base, washed and ready for the kid’s hopeful awakening—with a plain hospital-like robe. She’d bathed them too, revealing even more scars, bumps, bruises, and cuts, painting a gruesome and yet to be told story. Whatever had happened to this poor kid, it mustn't have been good.
Gem hadn't told anyone but Xisuma about the kid, not wanting anything to happen. She’d had to tell X, of course, as he was the admin and this was an un-whitelisted player who had somehow glitched onto Hermitcraft without permission. X, of course, had been gracious upon hearing and seeing the kid’s condition, saying that they would check the server code for errors that may have been caused by the newcomer, but would otherwise leave it to Gem.
While the new and very heavy responsibilities placed upon Gem’s shoulders were overwhelming and, frankly, terrifying, she was glad X trusted her enough to do it. X could've said that Gem would need to give the kid to someone like Cleo or False who would be more experienced in taking care of cases like this, but he hadn't. They’d trusted her with the responsibility, and she was willing to take it.
Even if it meant dealing with their panicked attacks and shouts when they woke up, too out of it and afraid to understand what was happening. They would yell at someone who wasn't there, someone presumably called Dream. Most of the time, their cries were desperate pleas, pleas for the Dream person to have mercy, to stop whatever the kid thought they were doing. Other times, which happened less often, they would be angry. Not angry, livid . They would yell angrily, cussing every few words, about how, in their words, ‘fucked up’ Dream was and how they’d ‘fucked them up’.
The kid would fight, too. Sluggishly, but nevertheless, they fought. They would try to pull non-existent items out of their now-empty inventory and, when that didn't work, would grab any piece of hospital equipment near enough to them and loose enough to jossle, brandishing their improvised weapon weakly. They usually ended up dropping whatever it was they’d pick up pretty quickly, considering they had a broken bone on one arm and a broken wrist on the other. When that happened, they would usually try for a lunge or tackle, falling over and passing back out.
After the first few occurrences of the kid’s more violent behaviour, Gem had learnt that fighting was useless and made things ten times worse, so she had resorted to sitting back, watching the lash outs with a sickened expression. She was horrified at whoever—presumably someone named Dream—had managed to break someone, especially a kid, so severely. It was sickening and… Gem didn't have any more words, but you get the point. She was disgusted.
Gem finished refilling the liquid IV bag that was connected to the kid’s arm, the concoction running through the tube a mix of regular IV drip and a diluted regen potion. She flinched as the kid tensed further somehow when the liquid began running into their system again. They subconsciously growled at the feeling, trying and failing to shy away from the tube. Gem would offer them a light touch to ease their subconscious, but she assumed it wouldn't be taken very well. The kid didn't seem to like touch.
Gem was just getting ready to leave the cabin, already reaching for her sunhat, when she heard the kid retch. She instantly straightened, deer-like ears flaring up wide open to hear better, as she turned around. She steeled herself for any of the many options that could happen; A: the kid throws up and stays passed out; B: the kid throws up and ends up becoming semi-conscious, pleading for mercy; C: the kid throws up, becomes semi-conscious, and ends up trying to fight. Either way, she needs to be prepared.
The kid barfs, only a vaguely red-ish, translucent spit-up spilling out of their mouth and onto the bed beside them. …That would be a mess to clean up neatly, considering she could no longer just move the kid away, not with the IV drip and monitors attached to them.
Thankfully, the kid didn't seem to wake up at all, only tensing up and whining slightly. Gem sighed, grateful that today was going mostly smoothly, although she had likely just jinxed it. Gem, only mildly perturbed, opened her inventory, grabbing a washcloth she had brought with her, just in case. She sure was glad she had thought of doing so, now that it was proving necessary.
Just as she started wiping at the plasticky sheets on the bed, she heard the door open. Gem tensed. She hadn't invited X over today…
“Gem? I saw you were- oh…” Etho’s voice called, trailing off at the end in shock. Gem sighed through her nose, preparing a response. So she had jinxed it.
“Etho, er, hey,” She responded awkwardly, turning slowly with the slightly soiled washcloth in hand. “I… I’ll explain later. Did ya need anything?”
“Er, no. I’ll just… Talk to you later once you’re done.” And with that, Etho left, the sound of rapidly fired rockets announcing his departure. Gem silently, still holding her breath for some reason, walked over to shut the door before finishing cleaning up.
—————
It was a few days later now, and Gem had practically been forced to tell Etho about the kid, as he had seen already. He had been startled, concerned, and had asked if she had told X, which, of course, she had. That had calmed Etho down some, although he was still concerned about the safety of the server, considering everything that had happened. To be fair, Gem had been too, at first, but X had told her that the server seemed stable, the only issue being a small hole in the firewall and the far reaches of the world where no one lived being glitchy and unstable, and since then, they had fixed it. Etho had nodded at that, seemingly satisfied.
Etho had asked to see the kid today, wanting to see their condition and possibly even give some input and advice, an offer to which Gem had graciously agreed, needing any help she could get. So, as Gem landed on the deck today, this time sticking the landing with zero hearts lost, she spotted a certain white-haired fox leaning on the rails, expression unreadable through his dark green mask. She offered him a gentle smile, sighing.
“C’mon, Etho. I need to mark his stats on my charts and refill his IV. Get a move on,” she bantered lightly, wanting to loosen up the near palpable tension on the small boat. Said fox huffed lightly, standing up straighter to follow her in.
Gem lets out a gasp, seeing the messy scene before, very different from how she’d left the ship the other day. Etho peaked around her, letting out a very concerned sounding, “Oh snappers…”
The kid was on the floor, all of the tubes and monitors ripped away from their body, the heart rate monitor screeching in a way that anyone would know meant “bad. This is bad.” Gem rushed forward, rapidly grabbing the stethoscope from the wall, not even bothering to take off her hat. She hurriedly put the earpieces in, pressing the metal part to the kid’s chest, murmuring to Etho to unplug the heart rate monitor, the sound getting to her. Etho agreed anxiously, flipping the switch and unplugging the device.
Gem let out a sigh of relief at the sound of the kid’s heart still beating and the soft, slow pattern of their breathing. She had truly thought she’d failed for a second there—she had left the kid alone for too long and they had lashed out. They could’ve died, and Gem didn’t even know if they’d respawn, seeing as they weren’t on the whitelist. “Good news, Etho,” she started wetly. “The kid’s alive.”
Etho let out a sigh. “Need help bringing them back to the bed?” He offered, seemingly unsure of how to respond. Gem smiled gratefully and nodded, setting the stethoscope around her neck.
“Could you make sure the bed’s ready? They mighta messed it up.” Etho nodded at the request, seemingly heeding the orders, if the shuffling and crinkling of plasticky sheets and soft blankets were to speak. Gem gently lifted the kid into her arms bridal style, upset but not surprised by how light they were. She’d carried them before, of course, but it was still so sad to think that anybody that tall could be this light and malnourished.
“Done,” Etho said awkwardly, shuffling toward the door to watch as Gem transferred the kid to the bed, positioning them to where they could turn to barf if needed.
“Etho, could you get the heart monitor set back up? I need to refill the IV,” Gem requested, going over to her extra bag of supplies in the corner of the room. The monitor beeped as Etho turned it on, getting the many wires put back into the kid’s chest and calibrating it. Gem joined him by the machines, but she was instead by the IV, refilling the bag and poking the tube into a vein in the kid’s left arm, the one with the broken wrist.
Once they were done, the two Hermits retreated to the deck of the small fishing boat, the deer apologising to the fox, to which he replied that he was merely happy he had been there. Gem thought so, too, shuddering at even the thought of having to do that alone.