Chapter Text
1. Prologue
The silence after Connie left was almost deafening. He’d been able to keep his mind busy with the games and activities, but in the loneliness of the beach house it became near-impossible.
The humming of the microwave as he heated up his food was but a moment’s reprieve, quickly fading away into white noise the longer it droned on. He felt an invisible stare drilling into his back, the only other presence in the room being the lifeless visage of his mother over the front door.
He tried to forget that it was there — the gaze, and the painting.
Steven sat himself on the couch, primed and ready to eat, but he couldn’t get the thought of the painting, or the subject of it, out of his mind. He spared another glance at it, quietly taking in the serene depiction of his mother. It used to bring him comfort, but… now, it brought him questions, and this weird twisted feeling in his gut.
Suddenly, his food didn’t look so appetizing… he pushed the bowl back, hugging his knees to his chest. Glancing back up at the painting brought that pang back, and his hold on his legs grew tighter as a shaky breath escaped him.
“I just…” Steven began, shakily. “I’ve learned so much, and I have so many questions… But, you’re not here, and you can’t be if I am…” He felt tears welling, but he screwed his eyes shut and forced them down. His head sank against his knees, body shuddering with a wave of emotion. “I… I need you. They need you… I just wish there was some way I could talk to you, and ask you about everything…”
As if on cue, Steven felt a buzz of power from his gem; a gentle hum and a glow that bathed his vision in pink… It surprised him for a moment, but the distant sound of the Temple door opening answered the unspoken question on the tip of his tongue.
He cast a wary glance toward the doorway from his place on the couch. So far it had only caused him trouble to go in there, inviting as those soft pink clouds may look from a distance. Did he dare tempt fate and enter it once-more…?
He sat in contemplative silence for a few moments, weighing his options. He could just sit there, allow the door to shut and forget that it had opened… Let these thoughts pass as they always had before, or hope that some opportunity would present itself to distract him until they did. But there was something about it, about the door opening now, that served as an answer to his question.
Realization struck him — the room could let him talk to Rose! It could conjure anything he asked… barring a whole city, that is. Surely, one person would be more than doable. Not to mention, even if it was just an imitation, it had helped him talk through a conflict with Connie in the past. How was this any different?
With a renewed feeling of purpose, Steven slid off of the couch and onto his feet. The glow of his gem made shadows dance as he moved, casting onto some surfaces and reflecting off of others. It was only once he passed the threshold of the doorway and the door began to shut behind him that his gem dimmed and faded away…
Steven felt uneasy standing in the room again, as though his mere presence would cause something to go horribly wrong. He even considered turning around and leaving, tossing his plan out the window in favor of willful ignorance.
But… If he did that, then he would still be left with these unanswered questions, and more than that he’d have no way to sort through these problems. At least trying this gave him a chance to pour his feelings out to someone, illusion or not.
No, this was something he needed to do.
“Room, I have… a pretty big favor to ask.” Steven spoke, speaking softly as he figured out how to phrase his request. “I… I need your help; I want to talk to my mom. I need to.” Despite his resolve, the young teen stumbled and stammered over his words.
Steven expected the room to respond as it had every time before; for clouds to come together and take the form of his mother — or an approximation of her, at least. But instead, he was met with silence and inaction. As far as he could tell, nothing about the room had changed or would change.
He let out a small, defeated sigh. Of course it wouldn’t work — the one time he truly needed the room to do something for him, and it was too great an ask. Maybe it was because he didn’t know his mother well enough? Or maybe it can’t make his mother because he’s already in the room with her gem? But the room had always at least tried to do things beyond its power in the past…
Before Steven could contemplate any further, though, he felt a strange pang of power come from his gem. As though he were trying to float, or summon his shield, but… more. He glanced down at his stomach, the glow of the gem strong enough to show right through the fabric of his red shirt.
“W-what..?” He winced as the power only increased, his body temperature rising with the raw power that seemed to come off of his gem. It didn’t hurt or anything, but it was so much more power than he’d ever felt from himself… or anyone, really.
With a sudden and shrill ringing, tendrils of light shot forth from his gem. The force was enough to shred the bottom of his shirt and make him recoil back, only adding to his confusion and now-welling panic at the uncontrolled actions of his gem. The tendrils gathered and twisted together a short way in front of him, taking form in a way that was almost reminiscent of fusion…
Steven sank to one knee with a gasp, sweat beading on his face as the beams of light flowed freely from his gem. Letting out this strange light was tiring, even with the reveal of just how deep his gem’s reserves seemed to be…
The light piled and twisted into quite an imposing pillar before the almost endless flow from Steven’s gem was cut off, dwarfing him with a height and width far greater than his own. Though Steven felt a faint sense of relief from the strain on his gem and body coming to an end, he couldn’t ignore the anxiety and dread at his gem acting entirely independent of his thoughts or actions.
That anxiety only grew more vast, too, as the swirling pillar of light seemed to warp into something more tangible…
The amalgam of swirling tendrils tightened, warping into an almost mannequin-like figure of pure light. The figure was tall and broad, floating with its body arched and head tilted back in a rather elegant manner.
Long, glowing hair burst forth from the bare scalp, cascading down its back and over its shoulders in all too familiar coils. A dress materialized next, layered fabric hanging down to the floor and obscuring the mannequin’s legs.
The light of the mannequin grew colored, various hues of pink invading the stark white as the skin was colored with peach, the heir grew vibrant with pink, and the tiers of the dress became a gradient of rose-colored tones…
The only strange thing was that, in the star-shaped window of the dress where her gem should reside, there sat only smooth skin…
Steven gazed up at the completed illusion of Rose, the confusion of what had just happened overcome by the conflicting emotions that crashed into him all at once. What should he say, how should he feel? He’d never thought this far, a big part of him having thought – maybe even hoped – that his plan wouldn’t work in the first place.
But, as this apparent copy of his mother gained her bearings, something seemed… wrong.
Rose looked around with what seemed to be surprise and confusion. She clearly recognized the room, but it was like she had no idea why she was here. It wasn’t like any of the other times the room had created a copy of someone; they’d always just seemed to know why they were there, and not care that they were.
This time, though, the copy did care, and it seemed increasingly panicked as the seconds ticked by. It washed away every other emotion Steven felt and replaced them with an acute curiosity, quietly observing her movements from his place on the floor.
“What..? How am I…” She whispered, a shaking hand clutching at her chest. She looked down at her hands, turning her arms over as though to ensure she really was here… only for something beyond them to catch her attention.
The small boy staring up at her with wide eyes would’ve made her heart skip a beat if she had one, a strange sense of recognition and yet complete disbelief washing over her as it processed who she was staring at. The gem in his stomach – exposed by the earlier shredding of cloth – made that much certain…
“s-Steven..?” She gasped, voice breaking as tears welled in the corners of her eyes. Her legs gave away and she sank to her knees with a heavy thud, sending small clouds in her immediate vicinity scattering. The suddenness of the movement startled Steven, making him jerk back slightly as his eyes remained locked on the figure.
There was something about the way she spoke, the way that she emoted, how unexpected everything about her arrival was… It caused suspicion to bubble up within him; what if this wasn’t just another illusion of the room’s doing?
Could this really be her? Could Steven really be staring up at his mother…?