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She is scared. The air in the room is being sucked out, throwing her into the cold oblivion of space, forcing her to remember the crushing helplessness of being left floating, directionless, powerless to change her situation. It’s too hot but her hands are ice cold; she knows, because they burn bright and merciless on the pale pink of Rose’s arm.
Rose’s breath comes in calm, shallow gasps, small smile lighting up the facets of her eyes. She marvels at her control, at her peace, when she herself is fighting to stay upright, fighting the tears at the corners of her eyes. She hasn’t cried in one hundred million years, in twelve thousand lifetimes, in a span that she can’t count. She can feel the pressure building up inside her, a bottle filled so full that the first drop to spill will unleash them all.
“Are you ready?” Rose asks, and she nods her head but she can barely keep herself from shaking. Rose’s smile is unshakeable. “I’m so excited. I wish I could see what he’ll look like.”
“He’ll be beautiful,” she says, because he’ll be a small part of her, and that makes it the truest thing she’ll say today. Rose’s breath comes slower, lighter.
“It’ll be soon.”
Garnet turns, her hand gently pushing Greg’s arm. “You should go. It’ll be dangerous.”
His voice is hesitant, and it’s the first time she remembers that he’s in the room. The first time his voice has permeated the thick bubble that surrounds them. “What’s going to happen?”
The room grows still and she can feel them all wondering the same thing. What’s going to happen? She clutches Rose’s arm tighter, tighter, squeezing until she’s sure she’s leaving bruises. Bruises that won’t exist for very much longer, on an arm that won’t be there any more. It’s the only time she can remember being so callous about Rose’s well-being.
“We don’t really have any specifics.” Amethyst is unusually sombre. She sits in the corner with her legs tucked up beneath her, round owl eyes peering dolefully at the bed.
“But we don’t want to put you in danger.” Garnet returns to guiding Greg out.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He sits opposite her, holding Rose’s other hand.
“I need you to take care of him Greg.” Rose is almost laughing. “I don’t think the Gems know much about human babies.”
“I promise.” He holds her hand in both of his own. “But I’m going to be here now. For the both of you.”
“You’re so sweet.” Rose closes her eyes, exhales, a long slow note. It grows, high and musical, beautiful and soft. It’s happening now, they can all feel it. There’s a brightness in the room, growing larger and pinker with every second and then the sound is suddenly gone and she is holding nothing.
Her eyes are closed, tight, so tight that they’re straining against her skin and she knows what’s happened but she’s still too afraid to look.
“Hey there little guy.” Large eyes open on a small human bean, tucked snugly into the crook of Greg’s arm. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
He’s so small. It’s the first thing she thinks, the first thought she’s capable of when she sees him. Something so large and wondrous into something so compact. Like a tiny Rose that she can carry around with her. Except it isn’t her.
She wants to stay and she wants to leave. Hands are still clutching emptily at the sheets on the bed. She clenches her fists, and then, suddenly, her chair is toppled on the floor and she’s gone. Running away. She can’t stay there any longer, can’t handle the sudden emptiness in the room that Rose’s presence used to fill. She can still see the faint pink afterglow on her skin, the strange souvenir of having been present for such an event. Even now, it fades, returning to a regular white glow, erasing everything that she has left.
She finds herself underneath the trunk of a cherry blossom tree. It’s beautiful. The petals are exactly the color of Rose’s hair. And suddenly she can’t see them anymore, they’re changing shape, they’re blurring at the edges, they’re coalescing into the shape of her, and her dress and her beautiful hair and suddenly Pearl realizes that the tears have come. A torrential flood, pouring down her face, and she can’t do anything to stop it. Every last vestige of her composure has disappeared and she’s sobbing now, breaking down loud and messy and she doesn’t know what to do.
She doesn’t know when she finally manages to stop. It’s dark now, light and dark and day and night passing without notice. How long has she been gone? She stands, shaky, her legs trembling under her sudden weight. She clutches the rough bark of the tree and feels depleted. There is nothing left of her now, it’s all fallen to the grass below, watering the roots of the tree. She is empty.
Walking back to the beach is arduous, every step painful. Coming closer and closer to a place that’s devoid of all meaning. Pearl wraps her arms around her self, a shallow hug. What will I do now?
Garnet is sitting on the beach, Amethyst at her side. They don’t turn when she comes to stand beside them. She turns to face they sunset they’re watching, and remembers the first time she’d ever seen the sun cresting below the waves on the horizon. How beautiful it was. She turns away from them and returns to the cave, footsteps slowed by the sand sinking beneath her.
Her room is the same, somehow. Untouched by the events of the day or the last week or whenever it was that the little human bean appeared. She sits in the water, letting it’s cool touch soothe her skin. Her eyes close.
“Pearl!”
Garnet’s voice is strong, echoing in the space. Pearl doesn’t look away, sword clashing swiftly against her virtual trainer.
“Amethyst and I are going to see Steven. We’ll be back soon.”
Steven. She wants to see him and she doesn’t. The fear comes crawling back up her throat and she spits into the water indelicately. Garnet is already gone.
She swings her sword suddenly, viciously, and the holo-Pearl trembles and shatters. She wins. Again.
The darkness provides cover. Or, it provides enough. She is stunned when she sees the construction taking place on the side of the cliff face, above the cave. A set of wooden stairs, a small apartment set above the rocks. The sudden appearance of the structure is confusing. What do Gems need with all this?
She runs a hand softly against the wooden railing, half-completed. What is going on?
The sand is warm from the day, but she runs above it, suddenly desperate. She’s waited so long she doesn’t know if he’ll even look the same anymore. She starts, aware that she doesn’t even really know where to look. Where could they have gone? Where would he take a tiny human bean? Her pulse quickens, suddenly frantic.
She can’t go back and ask them. Her pride wells up within her and she strides forward confidently, with no idea of where to start. It isn’t a very large town. They’ll be there. Somewhere.
She finally finds the van parked in a lot at the end of the beach. Closer than she’d expected. She can hear the soft cries of the tiny thing from halfway across the lot, fervently hushed by a sleepy Greg. She’s suddenly, violently angry for a searing flash. How could he let Rose’s small bean cry? How dare he upset him! Her footsteps are hard and fast against the ground and then suddenly she’s at the back of the van and a moment of real hesitation reaches her. Arms extend without conviction, resting on the cold metal of the doors. She can’t bring herself to open them. She can almost hear the tiny heartbeat on the other side, and she stops, resting an ear against the metal. It’s cold, and it bites at the touch.
“It’s okay little guy, what’s the problem? Your diaper’s fine.” There’s a brief moment of rummaging, and then, “Not hungry? Well, you just can’t sleep then?” A low laugh. “Alright. How about a lullaby?”
She expects to hear his voice, a low, grating song about stars and the universe. There’s a faint click, and she’s struck by the sudden sounds of Rose’s voice, soft and sweet.
“The stars are out, The moon is up, Its time to go to bed.
I'm so glad you have a place, to lay your sleepy head.
Go to sleep my little one, beneath the evening stars.
You will always have a place, To lay your sleepy head.”
She can’t do it anymore. Right when she’d thought she was out of tears they come flowing out, cascading down her face. She leans against the doors, head bowed, and lets them fall to the ground. She isn’t ready to hear or see Rose’s echoes. Not yet. She turns her back and sinks to the floor.
She comes every night. Just to hear Rose’s voice, singing softly to her son. She hasn’t yet worked up the courage to knock on the door, to see the tiny little bean. Not yet.
The moon is full tonight. She can see every pebble on the ground, every little leaf, thrown in sharp relief against the soft shadows on the ground. She almost dances, letting the small breeze carry her steps in swirling motions against the floor. In fact, she manages a small series of steps, of leaps, a tiny pirouette at the end. She spins, arms extended, to the sound of Rose’s voice. Wide steps, sweeping arcs, like a half remembered dance. She remembers her partner. Her grace, her elegance, her beautiful eyes. They way they’d sweep together across the ground when they were fused. The energy, the joy. She’s swept up in the motions, without thinking, stretching gracefully upwards to the moon.
She can feel it in her bones, remembers the way it felt to be fused with her. Such unrestrained emotion, so soft, so gentle. She closes her eyes, letting the steps come to her, carrying her away. A light step there, a half turn here. Arms always up. She turns, letting the motion sweep her away.
She hits the edge of the van with her foot, just barely scraping it. The sound echoes in the parking lot and she’s thrown off balance, barely managing to recover. The back of the van door is quietly unlatched, and Greg peers out at her. The little human bundle is cradled in his arms.
“Pearl? Do you want to come inside?”
She stutters, composure lost. She can feel the heat crawling up her cheeks, and she has the urge to flee, quickly. “No, I. I was just. I only wanted -” Her words catch in her throat as she finally takes a look at him. Steven. She’s paralyzed.
Greg scoots over to make room for her, patting the space beside him. She stands, shaky, and makes her way uncertainly inside. The van is crowded, and messy as it always is. She picks her way through the clothes and the discs and the bags of tiny human diapers, settling herself delicately on the floor in a small space cleared between musical equipment and baby formula. He smiles quietly, and offers her the small bundle. “Do you want to hold him?”
Pearl freezes, more unsure than she thinks she’s ever been. He just laughs softly, and she can hear the tiny thing start to burble. She puts her arms in what she assumes is the correct position, and he slides Steven in for her. He’s so warm - warmer than she’d expected. She can feel the tiny pulse through her skin.
Greg looks over, eyes warm, and picks up his guitar. There’s a disc already in the player, and he presses play, waiting for the first few lines of music to drift through before joining in. The guitar strums softly, and he starts.
“What can I do, for you?”
Pearl looks up, eyes misting, as the familiar strains of Rose and the rest of the band come floating through the stereo. She tucks her head down towards Steven’s. Through the folds in the blanket, she can see it, twinkling up at her. Rose Quartz’s gem.
And she’s really crying again. Tears stream on silent tracks down her cheeks and she thinks, what’s wrong with her? She’s cried more since Steven than she thinks she ever has in her entire life. She doesn’t look up but out of the corner of her eyes she can see the tears dripping silently down Greg’s face too.
How wonderful, she thinks, head bowed and eyes closed. Her hand reaches down, caressing it softly. That there’s still such a big piece of her left in the world.
She stays the night, even after Greg’s fallen asleep, cradling Steven in her arms.
“I’ll protect you,” she whispers, into his temple, and holds him close. His heartbeat echoes against her skin and she smiles for the first time in weeks.