Disclaimer: I don't own Steven Universe!
Title: Midnight
Summary: Connie gives herself a haircut while Lion settles in for an extended sleepover.
...
Connie slips off Lion, giving him a distracted pat on the shoulder as a thank you. He follows her up the door, and when she waves a hand to shoo him off he doesn't move. Too tired to argue, she shrugged and adjusted her gym bag, twisting the doorknob. Later, she'll have to remind her mother to lock it (she has a key, and, should she lose it, she has a voice. There's no need to tempt burglars) but for now the concept evades her.
"Connie!" she hears, but before she can really process it her mother's hands are on her shoulders. Connie tensed, hands twitching, but she remembered Jeff all too well. There'll be no limb breaking tonight. "Connie, did you-"
"He's back," Connie interrupts, voice flat, too numb to care about groundings. Or maybe she's too mad. She really can't tell anymore. She takes in a deep breath. "Steven's back."
"Back?" Doug echoes. "Connie, honey, you promised us you'd call before you-"
She doesn't let him finish. Truthfully, she's done with the conversation. She's been done with it since before it even started. "We didn't. He came back on his own." Connie lifted her head to meet Priyanka's eye. She's not sure what her mother sees on her face, but her lips close and tighten. "Please, mom. I'm really tired. Can this wait until breakfast?"
Priyanka stared at her a long moment, torn between wanting to demand answers and recognizing her need for space. She slowly nods. "Breakfast. At six. You'll tell us then."
Connie nods back, bobblehead-like. "Yes, ma'am."
"Uh, Con?" Doug points behind her. "Is he staying?"
Lion sets his muzzle on top of her head. It makes Connie feel a bit better. "I think so, yeah. Is that okay? He's house-trained, and he catches his own food."
"Connie," says her father seriously. "Do you really think I'm going to try and convince a lion to go anywhere?"
Lion follows Connie up the stairwell, paws thudding awkwardly on steps too small for them, then into her room, where he leaps onto her bed and lays down, tail flicking. The gym bag strap slithered down her shoulder, thudding to the floor. Connie flinched, reminding herself that she was carrying important goods. She'd be a hypocrite if she mistreated something she'd promised to keep safe.
Something hot settled in her chest and stomach as she slipped into the adjacent bathroom. Connie hadn't done a lot of things these past few days- sleep and eat regularly were somewhere on the list- but showering was much higher up on that list of 'no time, don't care, gotta help Steven'. It's too late for the real deal, so she just sticks her head under the faucet and cranks it, feeling the top of her head get drenched. The cold water jolts her into a wakefulness she hasn't felt since the ship left Earth.
She doesn't know what she wants to do. Cry with relief? Jump for joy? Punch Steven in the nose? All of it sounds tempting, in one form or another, and there's so little time to do any of it before the next crisis hits. Connie tilts her head back, feeling the drops vaguely slip down her scalp. There's no way she'll ever get it all wet, short of sticking the ends in, and that forces her body to move at an odd angle. She's sick of moving herself into weird angles for things that don't matter.
Connie doesn't realize what she's doing until she hears the first snip of the scissors, and by then it's too late to stop. She snips and snips and snips, feeling the weight drop away, fluttering quietly to the floor with a growing sense of dismay. Her dark hair hangs awkwardly around her shoulders, jagged and uneven. A small, distant part of her hopes her parents won't freak out. Mostly, she just doesn't care.
Steven wants to pretend nothing has changed, but he can't. No one can. Things have changed. Connie's changed. She's sick and tired of pretending otherwise.
Tired and defeated (shouldn't she feel the opposite? She just got her best friend back, for pete's sake), Connie turns tail, setting the scissors down with a thunk. She shuts the light off and closes the door, pretending that she's pacified with a halfhearted goodbye and cat hair on her bed.
Lion had moved slightly while she was gone, taking up the far right and bottom of her bed. He blinked at her reproachfully as she sidled up, falling onto the bed with a groan. Connie sniffs, long and loud, wondering what she's gonna do next. She should give it a few days, right? Let the tensions settle before going to talk? Steven just got back from Homeworld. Everyone is tense. No need to add to the drama.
Connie pulled herself up, burying her face in Lion's shoulder. He doesn't complain, shifting to hold her weight more comfortably.
"Oh, Lion," she sighed. "What am I gonna do with him? For that matter, what am I gonna do with you?"
He set his head on his paws. It was fairly clear he knew what he was going to do with himself. For now, that would have to do.
Author's Note: So how 'bout that new Stevenbomb, eh?
Man, is it nice to write Connie. It feels like it's been ages. I love Steve-o and Amethyst, don't get me wrong, but Connie is just as high up there for favorite characters.
-Mandaree1