Work Text:
“You know you're my mom, right?”
Pearl freezes in place. Water drips from the sponge and plate in her hands, the quiet drips deafening in the silence. It's early evening and the two of them are the only ones home – Garnet's on a gem retrieval mission and Amethyst is doing whatever Amethyst is doing. Steven sits at the kitchen counter, his schedule, planner, and phone spread out in front of him but largely ignored as he grips his pen (a dark purple glitter gel pen) tight, his heart thumping in his throat. He can't quite make himself look up.
Pearl still hasn't moved.
“I mean – I know you're.... Not,” He mumbles. “I can't not know who made me at this point. But....” He trails off, scribbles a spiral into the margin of his paper. Sheepish regret colors his cheeks red, but he forces himself to go on. It needs to be said. He's been wanting it to be said.
“.... But that doesn't make her my mom. If there's anything that I've learned since everything with the diamonds it's that family is something that you choose. Something you have to work for and put effort and love and care into.” He hears Pearl gently place the plate and sponge back in the water. "And you do that for me. You always have." He sees her wipe off her hands on a dishtowel in the corner of his eye. He swallows. He presses on.
“You four are my family. Garnet, Amethyst, Dad, and You. And it's not that I love the other Gems any less or – or anything like that, it's just,” and he swallows, running a hand through his thick hair, feeling tears prickle at his eyes, God, he's messing this up, messing everything up. Again.
Pearl circles around the counter and slips into the seat next to him. Wordlessly, she reaches out and pulls him into her arms, and he's engulfed in her familiar, comforting, motherly scent that screams home and love and safety. He clutches at Pearl with an odd sort of desperation that he wasn't expecting, work forgotten, and he needs to finish, needs to see this through, needs Pearl to know -
“ - It's just that they're different than you. You've been here for me in ways that no one else has. And it's – it's not Rose's fault that she's gone, it's not Rose's fault she wasn't here and couldn't be, but she wasn't - and every day she becomes more and more of a stranger to me and I just – I can't - “ His voice cracks. A few tears slip down his cheeks.
Pearl hushes him, a hand tangled in his hair, petting and stroking his curls with long, strong fingers, and it's the familiarity of it, the trust in the action that truly breaks him and the dam of everything that he's been holding back.
He's surprised, really, by how much exactly that is. He starts crying and starts talking and can't quite seem to stop, fears and anxieties and hurts and rage gushing out of him faster than he can process what he's saying until finally his words run dry.
By the time he pulls back from her chest the sun has gone down. The only light in the beach house is that given by the ethereal glow of the temple and a lamp in the living room. He feels raw and tired and embarrassed, but he's no coward, so he risks a glance up at Pearl.
Unsurprisingly, her eyes are wet. Her face is flushed and she's smiling a soft, open smile. Her hand – calloused and scarred, a warrior's hand, a knight's hand – cups his jaw, and he smiles shakily back at her.
Her lips part to speak, but words fail her. She smiles, shakes her head. His eyes slip closed as she presses her temple to his, the rounded curve of her Gem cool on his skin.
“I love you.” His words are nearly whispered, almost ashamed. “And I just.... I wanted you to know how I feel. It's important to me. You're important to me. And in all the ways that count – in all the ways that matter.... You're my mom.”
She smiles again, wobbly and open. He inhales with her, his breath only slightly steadier than hers, and clenches his eyes shut as she finally, finally speaks.
“I think.... I think you've been mine for a long time, Steven.” Her voice shakes, and he can feel the love pouring off of her. After he'd learned about how Pearl belonged to his mother he'd briefly wondered, terrified, if Pearl only cared for him because she felt she had to, because she was programmed to, but he knew that wasn't the case. All she had to do was speak and it would be clear how she felt for him – how she couldn't help but love him. Not because of his origin but because she was Pearl and he was Steven and they were them.
“I love you,” she breathed. His smile grew, and he leaned up to hug her again. “Stars, I.... I love you. And you - “ she laughs, wet and joyous and warm. “ - Oh, Steven, you are my little boy. No matter how old you get o-or how tall – stop growing, by the way, it's very disorienting,” She bopped him playfully on the top of his head and he giggled into her shoulder, straightening up and grinning at their near-equal height. “You.... have always been mine. And I've always been yours.”
She cupped his jaw. His vision blurred and smile widened.
“And there is nothing and no one I would trade this for – trade you for.” There is absolution in her voice. An understanding. A fierce stubbornness that no one else could match. An honesty. A promise.
She kisses his forehead. He kisses her cheek.
He believes her.