#have some Aventurine introspection and maybe some cynicism

[grimalkenkid]

“The Kind of Person I Wanted Back Then”

(Had a burst of inspiration thanks to @havanillas art of Aventurine with a baby, so have this angsty-yet-hopeful Drabble! Enjoy?)

Aventurine knew his place; he was a tool for the Strategic Investment Department to deploy in situations deemed too risky or underhanded for any of the other Stonehearts. He was basically disposable, a pawn who was nevertheless useful if he could turn the tides at a pivotal moment. So it came as little surprise when Diamond sent him to once again “offer” the IPC’s aid to a particularly stubborn border planet that refused to ally with the Amber Lord against the Antimatter Legion.

Even from orbit, Aventurine saw the scorched craters where once-thriving cities stood, though the sight couldn’t hold a candle to the devastation he witnessed firsthand in his opinion. Of course, he would offer his sympathies or condolences when he met with their leader, but he wouldn’t sugarcoat anything. If Diamond thought a gentle touch would get through their thick skulls, then he would’ve sent Topaz.

The negotiation went about as well as expected. Their leader was a tough, old soldier, determined to maintain his people’s independence. However, Aventurine had seen enough of the crumbling masonry and hastily-set tents along the outskirts to sense the cracks in the man’s resolve.

“Give the IPC a controlling share in the planet’s geothermal energy market, and you’ll have the Preservation’s protection.” The words burned his tongue, bitter and acrid.

Like they should have protected the Avgin…

Aventurine left the meeting having given the leader a few offers to ponder and many possibilities to chew on. He was certain they’d come around and agree to the IPC’s terms. Eventually, everyone did.

There were few casinos still operating within the city, having lost most of their clientele to leisure activities less reliant on luck. A shame, Aventurine thought, and so he returned to the small space-port, texting Stelle to pester her into playing online poker. They were two hands deep when a laser-scorched shuttle made an abrupt landing nearby.

Dozens of injured civilians and soldiers rushed out. Aventurine hung back, keeping out of their way as they undoubtedly hurried to the nearest hospital or, more likely, a first aid kit. He tried not to think of how powerless he was right then. For all his wealth, he couldn’t actually protect anyone. Only the IPC could wield that kind of power, and he was little more than their puppet.

With a heavy-hearted sigh, Aventurine tried to turn his attention back to his game, but a lone figure lagging behind the rest of the refugees caught his gaze first. It was a small child, his awkward gait a sign that he had just barely learned to walk. He stumbled about aimlessly, his wide eyes watery and darting everywhere. Before a single thought formed in his head, Aventurine had already pocketed his phone and strode over to the confused child.

The instant the child saw Aventurine approaching him, he abandoned his wandering and stumbled as fast as his little legs could carry him towards the only adult who even seemed to notice him. Aventurine knelt down in front of the kid, his heart nearly stopping as he saw his eyes clearly, with the distinctly two-colored irises of a Sigonian.

“Where are your—?” Aventurine started, but his question would have to wait as the kid slammed into his chest, clawing at his waistcoat and sobbing as only a frightened child could.

Whatever questions Aventurine had could wait. He slowly brought his hands up and wrapped the poor kid in an awkward hug. He wasn’t supposed to be the one who offered comfort, shouldn’t be the one people trusted. Wasn’t supposed to be a person, just a tool, a pawn. And yet this kid was clinging to him like a lifeline. The least Aventurine could do was give him reassurance in return.

He patted the kid’s head, speaking softly until his tears dried and his breathing grew steady. Only then did Aventurine lift him into his arms, whispering a comforting lie as he returned to the city,

“Now, let’s go find your parents.”

Hours later, and Aventurine had the answer he’d known all along. The kid’s parents were dead, and no one would take him in. Of course they wouldn’t; why would anyone take in a Sigonian? To do so would be asking to invite a future thief and liar into one’s house.

But Aventurine was already a liar. A murder. A loser.

As the kid fell asleep in his arms, Aventurine returned to his ship, shutting himself away from the prying eyes of his subordinates. He sat down in the first chair he saw and finally let his own tears fall.

“I’ll take care of you,” he swore with all the kindness and tenderness that remained in his scarred heart. “I won’t leave you to fend for yourself. I’ll protect you… I promise.”

And he meant it.