Disclaimer: I don't own Steven Universe!
Title: Rugged
Summary: Stevonnie notices their stubble while putting on a band-aid.
Setting: Jungle Moon
...
It takes some time to decipher which creatures are kind to strangers and which aren't. Stevonnie is fairly sure they don't know even a fraction of what exists on this moon. But that doesn't excuse sloppiness, so they wash the bite wound with a scowl, muttering darkly to themselves. It's burning by morning.
Stevonnie pulls the wound close to their chest with a hiss. "I think it might be infected," they told themselves. "Or starting to get that way."
"What do we do?" they asked.
"We wash it better, for one," they answered. "And we use antiseptic."
"But that stuff hurts!"
"We either hurt or we die, Stevonnie."
"Sorry, Stevonnie."
They consider licking it, but it seems like a big risk to put something like that so close to their tongue. They consider un-fusing, but that doesn't seem very smart. Enemies could be anywhere, and there's only the one sword. Stevonnie reluctantly leaves their hideout to find something reflective. There was plenty of it in the rubble, but they hadn't really been interested in the Star Skipper. They knew they wouldn't be able to fix it.
It's not for forever, they reminded themselves, not for the first time. It's just until Lars finds us. Not that Lars knew where they were, or anything, but they had to cling to the hope he wouldn't leave them to rot.
Stevonnie leaned it against the corner of their sanctuary, sitting cross-legged on the crater floor. It was nice here. As nice as it got, when one was surviving. They sighed and got to cleaning.
(They try not to think about Earth. About Garnet and Amethyst and Pearl, the Maheswarans, Peridot... There was so many things for Stevonnie to miss, and no way for them to work on fixing it. All they could do was wait.)
Sick at heart, the fusion finally took the chance to look at themselves in the mirror. They really didn't look all that different. A bit dirtier, but that was to be expected. The bite mark wasn't as deep as they'd first thought. It wouldn't even scar.
"Wait..." They leaned in, squinting. "Do I have five o'clock shadow?" Stevonnie reached a hand up to rub at their cheeks, finding them to be slightly bristly. "Or, wait, is that for after you shave? Do I have midnight o'clock shadow?"
Stevonnie settled in more comfortably, still rubbing at their face. "I didn't know I could grow facial hair," they said unnecessarily. It wasn't like they'd ever been themselves long enough to find out. They smiled at their reflection. "I look good."
The bite didn't hurt as much, anymore.
Author's Note: I actually labeled this document 'spitballing', simply because I'm gushing more than planning. I love Stubbonnie so much, yo.
-Mandaree1