Chapter Text
Peridot hated weekends.
Peridot especially hated sunny weekends.
Weekends were the time when her student research team took time off to see the local sights around the city where their lab was located—and in sunny weather, they would usually end up at the nearby beach for a day of “fun in the sun” (or whatever the faculty in charge of recreation activities had advertised it as). In Peridot’s opinion, the whole thing was a massive waste of time. They were here on the coast of Italy to perform tests on and aid in the development of a new concept for prosthetic limbs, and taking two perfectly good work days off seemed pointless to her. She would be less irritated if her professor would allow her to stay behind in the lab; or, barring that, to take some research notes with her. But any and all previous requests had been met with a firm objection and her professor’s insistence that she “go have fun.”
While some of the surrounding destinations had been at least marginally interesting (the Romans had had impressively sophisticated plumbing systems, and Peridot begrudgingly admitted that the view from the top of the hill they had climbed one weekend was worth the long, zigzagging trek up), beach weekends had, as far as she could tell, no redeeming qualities. The fine sand was scorching hot underfoot, and its tendency to bury itself deep within any crevice barred her from bringing any electronic devices, lest they meet an untimely and undignified end. The bright sun would turn her pale skin a blisteringly painful shade of red if she didn’t slather herself with lotion, and her general aversion to water made the entire trip more like a nightmare than a dream holiday. Overall, when beach weekends came around, Peridot was miserable.
However, despite all her objections, she was here, curled up under an umbrella on a towel and scowling at anybody who crossed within three feet of her self-designated space. With a pair of non-prescription sunglasses perched on her thin nose in front of her normal, bottle-thick circle lenses, Peridot was squinting at the tiny text of the travel edition of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Though most of her classmates would insist that she had no idea how to relax, she did have interests outside of her dedication to work. Classic sci-fi, for instance, was something she had loved since before she was old enough to read it for herself—her dad had often read to her from a collection of Ray Bradbury’s works before bedtime, and she had maintained an appreciation for the genre ever since.
She had hoped to finish re-reading the Douglas Adams novel before lunchtime, and to be able to begin the next in the series after the students had gathered for a meal. Unfortunately, it seemed as if the world had other plans.
Peridot squawked as she felt herself lifted off her towel and flung over the shoulder of someone with a pair of strong, toned arms. She flailed briefly, and managed to knock both pairs of her glasses off in her attempt to free herself from her attacker. Once she had turned around enough to see the face of her assailant (which involved a near-Herculean effort), she wondered why she had been surprised.
Jasper. The basketball player from Peridot’s university was here for pre-season with her team, which happened to be training in a facility owned by the same school as the lab where Peridot was researching. Seeing as the same university ran both programs, they often went on joint excursions at the weekend. Jasper had been the bane of Peridot’s existence since they were randomly assigned as roommates freshman year, and Peridot had been trying valiantly to avoid the sight of her platinum-blonde ponytail during this entire trip.
“Hey, what are you doing?! Put me down!” she exclaimed, wriggling about in Jasper’s firm grasp. Jasper merely rolled her eyes (or at least, Peridot assumed she did) and readjusted her grip.
“You always spend all day hiding under that stupid umbrella, avoiding human company. You can’t spend your life as a repressed shut-in, Peri. It’s not good for you.”
“I’m not a shut-in, Jasper! I have a perfectly acceptable amount of friends. And I spend time outside!”
“You know that Professor Quartz’s son doesn’t count, right? I’m talking about people your own age. And yeah, you go outside…when you have to to walk between buildings to get to class. You need a helping hand.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being friends with somebody younger than you, who might just happen to be the son of one of your lecturers. Anyway, Steven’s not my only friend! There are at least twenty people who I play video games with regularly.”
“Peri, have you ever actually met any of them in person?”
“That’s not the point!”
“Look, all I’m saying is that you need to start interacting with the people who are here in front of you. You’re at the beach! Why not get started by going for a swim?!”
While they had been bickering, Jasper had carried Peridot over to the end of the wooden dock that jutted out from the most crowded point of the beach. Their classmates were grouped in a loose formation, either sitting on the end of the wood or floating in the sea just below. Peridot grudgingly admitted that they did seem to be having a better time than she had been having, and wondered if she would be able to placate Jasper by striking up a short conversation with one of them.
However, she never got the chance. Before she could escape, Jasper hurled Peridot into the air, sending her flying over the wet heads of the students clustered below and crashing down into the water a little farther out.
From Peridot’s point of view, it was as if somebody had suddenly pressed the mute button on life. Instead of the noisy chatter on the beach and the frequent calls of sea birds, all sound was muffled. It took her a second to realize that she had just been thrown into the sea, and by that point, she had been sinking in stunned silence for long enough that she was fairly far down.
Her first instinct was to shout, which only accomplished the task of greatly depleting the amount of air she had stored in her lungs. Next, she kicked her legs and attempted, as much as possible, to propel herself upwards towards where she thought she could make out the faint glimmerings of the sun. However, the sturdy material of her cargo shorts and t-shirt held water and weighed her down. Peridot looked up desperately, vainly hoping that somebody would be there to rescue her. She was not a strong swimmer at all, and was starting to face the unfortunate truth that she might not make it back to shore. The outgoing tide had swept her into deeper water, and her lungs were burning from the lack of air. Peridot could not tell whether the steady darkening of her vision was due to oxygen deprivation, increasing water depth, or both combined.
She knew she had to breathe, that her lungs would not let her hold her breath for much longer at all. Distantly, she felt her mouth open automatically, to gasp in air that was not there. Her vision faded out as cold seawater entered her throat and her limbs stopped working altogether, though just before the darkness completely engulfed her, she could have sworn she saw a flash of deep, brilliant blue.