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Steven curled up under his new blanket, staring up at the ceiling of his tiny room inside the Crystal Temple. The glow of his Cookie Cat clock shining dimly in his face.
Everything here was so new—so big, so quiet in a way that wasn’t really quiet at all. The ocean outside, the occasional creaks of the temple, the hum of the warp pad—it all felt very.. unsettling. It's never been this way around the gems before.. So.. why is it this way now? Guess we'll never know.
No more nights curled up in the backseat with a pile of blankets, listening to the soft hum of the engine as Greg strummed his guitar in the front. Now Steven had a room, a bed, and the Gems—his family.
But they were still figuring that part out.
Across the room, the Gems stood together, exchanging glances like they were waiting for someone else to make the first move. They had done a lot today—moving the rest of his furniture in, eating (well, watching him eat with the occasional "help" of Amethyst), talking about how he’d “adjust.” But now, they had reached a new, unexpected challenge: bedtime.
Greg had made it very clear to them that Steven needed a bedtime.
That led to now.
“Okay,” Amethyst said, rocking back on her heels. “So… bedtime. That’s a thing we do now, I guess?”
Steven nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Well,” Pearl said, hands clasped in front of her. “It is important for growing children to get proper rest, so this is—yes, this is fine. This is good.” She adds with an anxious undertone, attempting to convince herself.
“I’ll put you to bed by punching you into the mattress,” Amethyst teases, cracking her knuckles.
“No, you will not!" Pearl scolds with a hint of annoyance, yet also concern in her voice.
“Alright, alright,” she snickered. “G’night, dude.”
Garnet nodded. “Goodnight, Steven.”
“Night, guys,” Steven said, giving them a wave as Amethyst bounded off and Garnet followed, calm as ever, who were off to their rooms in the blink of an eye.
That left Pearl.
She lingered by the steps near his.. loft.. bedroom.. area(?) hesitant. Steven tucked himself under his blanket, watching as she fidgeted.
“Well,” Pearl started, “goodnight, Steven.” She turned to go.
But something twisted in Steven’s chest. The room was too quiet, too still. The temple felt big in a way it hadn’t before.
He suddenly sat up quietly. It was clear the boy was uneasy. Who could blame him after moving in with a bunch of rocks from space that don't know how to take care of a child on their own?
Pearl froze, glancing back.
Steven chewed his lip. He felt awkward. He was supposed to be a big kid now. He wanted to be here, but…
“Um— Pearl?" Steven asks, unusually quiet, especially for a child as energetic as Steven.
She sighs. She was so close to getting out of there. So close.
"Yes?" She responds softly.
There’s something Dad used to do,” he admitted. “Before bed.”
Pearl hesitated. “Oh.”
Steven shifted. “It’s kinda silly. But.. I— Well, I can't really sleep without it. It's a comfort thing.."
Pearl’s expression softened, but there was something uncertain in the way she held herself. Like she was stepping into unfamiliar territory with no map. “I… suppose we should try to keep things consistent,” she said carefully. “What did he do?”
Steven glanced down. “He, um… he used to sing.”
Pearl stiffened.
“Oh.”
Silence stretched between them.
Steven swallowed. “It’s okay. You don’t have to—”
“No!” Pearl said quickly. Too quickly. She composed herself. “No, it’s… alright. I can—well, I do know quite a few songs. Rose—”
She stopped short. Cleared her throat. “Yes. Right. Singing. That’s… I can do that.”
She perched on the edge of his bed, stiff as a board, like she wasn’t sure how to sit in a way that made sense.
Steven watched her, unsure.
Then, softly—hesitant at first—Pearl began to hum.
It wasn’t a song Steven knew. It wasn’t one of Greg’s old rock ballads. It wasn’t even something human. The melody was strange, flowing, something ancient and unfamiliar. But it was gentle.
And it was nice.
Steven let himself sink into the blankets, the tension in his chest unwinding. His eyes drifted shut.
Pearl’s voice faltered when she realized he was asleep. She studied his face, soft in the dim light, before exhaling, somewhat in relief.
Maybe they aren't doing such a bad job so far.
"Goodnight, Steven."