Peridot pulls back a bit, canting her head and looking a bit like she's autofilling various endings to that sentence somewhere behind her shaded eyes, and none of them are what Lapis is thinking, and to find that out would probably baffle her and set the situation back on its axis to revolve in circles again.

She casts guilt aside like a tool she doesn't need anymore. Already it's filed away neatly with Homeworld sensibilities and casual gem classism- these feelings I have for these things I've done don't matter to me and shouldn't matter to anyone else.

Lapis does not have a brain that files things away neatly. Lapis's brain is a tempest in a teapot, scattering baggage and guilt every which way, but there's just not enough room to hurl it so far that she can't find it again. They'll be here again. They've only stopped this Hell.

Peridot doesn't care. The scene fades and they're back in the barn with only the memory that were storms here once. It still tastes like salty sea air and the ground still feels gritty under her feet, and she makes a face. All the words she could have said before are abruptly replaced with mild disdain as she looks at their room. "We're... probably going to have to borrow another room for the weekend. The barn is a little... unfortunate right now."