Chapter Summary: Car washing takes a back-seat.
Content Warning: Anxiety and pregnancy.

Chapter Two
Could Never Be Ready

The best thing about washing cars had always been the sense of relaxation that came with it. The sound of rushing water, the floral smell of soap, the repetitive motions, the sheer satisfaction of watching a car become steadily cleaner and cleaner. It was even more relaxing now that Greg didn't have to obsess about each and every job because a single unhappy customer could ruin his bottom line for the month. Now, he could just slip on some headphones, put on some sweet jams, and zone out.

Which was why he didn't notice anyone shouting his name until that someone was literally next to his ear yelling, "Greg, Greg!"

"Huh, what?" Greg blinked at Pearl, pulling off his headphones. "Pearl? What's up? Is… something wrong?"

It looked like something was wrong. Pearl's face was flushed, panicked. She didn't have her weapon out, but—

Greg got ready to run. "Is something happening? Is there a monster?"

Pearl shook her head frantically, wild-eyed. "No– it's her! She's back!"

Slowly and carefully Greg turned to properly face the Gem.

"Pearl, calm down. Who's back?"

Pearl didn't answer, just released a strangled sort of noise and made some indecipherable gesture with her hands. Greg was just about to try coaxing something more out of her, when—

"Greg."

The new voice sent an electric shock straight down Greg's spine.

He spun, and stared. She was there, in the dim evening light— Rose Quartz, as radiant and beautiful as the day she died.

Steven , Greg thought, No, Steven—

But Steven was there , right at her side, holding her hand. He was smiling.

"A-Amethyst?" said Greg, but no. This Rose wasn't purple, she had no gemstone at her breast, she was all brilliant pink and white. And anyway, there was Amethyst behind her, and Garnet too, and— "What's going on?"

Rose didn't answer. She just rushed forward, and picked him up, right up like he weighed no more than a pillow. Next thing Greg knew he was holding her face, staring into her eyes, his lips pressing against hers. She tasted sweet, like flowers and sunlight, and oh, he'd almost forgotten that taste. She was soft, gentle, like she'd always been, so afraid of hurting him… but there was something there beneath the restraint, something fierce and desperate—

Finally they parted, Greg gasping for breath. He stared at her in wonder.

"I came back for you," Rose said. "For all of you."

Quite suddenly, Greg felt very aware of himself. Of his greying hair, of his belly paunch, of the aches in his joints. He rubbed his neck.

"Well, I hope I, uh, didn't disappoint."

"Oh, Mr. Universe. You never could."

She gave him a slow, smouldering smile, ending with a playful wink. Greg couldn't help but smile back up at her— but as she placed him back on the ground, his stomach lurched and reality reasserted himself. He turned and sprinted towards his son, grabbing him by his shoulders. Steven looked fine, but...

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Dad."

Steven lifted up his shirt in demonstration, and there his gemstone was, glittering in the dim evening light.

Greg let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, but still looked to the Gems for some help. He'd never much understood various magic stuff, but he had at least a handle on the basics of their biology (geology?), and this didn't make any sense. How could there be two identical rose quartz gemstones?

If the Gems had any explanation to offer him, they didn't give it. Garnet was unreadable behind her glasses. Amethyst just shrugged. Pearl stood a little to the side, her arms clutched tight to her chest, looking everywhere but at Rose.

Yeah. Greg was understanding some of her earlier panic now. This… this was baffling. Completely and utterly and… Greg wasn't entirely sure what to think. It was like being in a dream.

Maybe this was a dream? It felt very real but… maybe a magical dream? Those could happen, right? Or maybe this was something else… With all the weird powers and space doo-dads the Gems had left lying around the planet, what with shape-shifting and holograms, it was possible. More possible, surely, than someone coming back from the dead. Was– was the woman he'd just kissed an imposter ?

No. No. The Gems– they would have thought of all of that, too. And they had known Rose for longer than he had, millennia longer. They wouldn't be here unless they were certain this was her. Pearl wouldn't be on the verge of tears, wouldn't have rushed all this way to give him some kind of warning—

"This is happening," Greg said, stepping back from the shock. "This is really happening…" He shook himself, pulled at his hair. "I can't believe this! I– we've got so much to talk about! We have so much to tell you, so much to show you—" Greg started towards the van, then stopped when he noticed the hose in his hand. "Just let me finish this first…"

He gave the car (a nice blue Chevvy) one last spray, then flung the hose over his shoulder.

"Done!"

Now he sped off to the van, diving right into the clutter, pulling the door closed behind him. He felt a pang of embarrassment— he should have cleaned up— but then, why would he have had any reason to? And it wasn't like Rose had ever minded before. And right now, he could hear her giggling with amusement, and Steven was chuckling, too—

Steven. Steven had met his mother . Greg had never thought– never thought Steven would have this chance—

He still remembered the conversation they'd had, not long after they'd first discovered Rose was pregnant. It had taken a while to notice— the first sign of pregnancy was usually a missed period, but Rose, of course, had never gotten those, even after she had made herself a uterus. So instead the first signs had been Rose gaining a sudden, fierce appetite, as well as accompanying bouts of nausea. They'd noticed her belly was, perhaps, a little larger than usual. And they'd gone to an obstetrician— one of the strangest, most unbelievable doctor appointments in Greg's whole life— and they'd done an ultrasound. And yes, there it had been, a staticky image of white against black, the first images of the fetus which would one day grow into Steven...

He'd been elated, jubilant, at first, and so had Rose. They'd hoped, and hoped, and tried and experimented, but neither of them had been sure if it would work— but it had. They were actually going to have a baby .

It was only after they'd driven back to Beach City that Rose had grown more sombre. More serious.

"Greg," she'd said, "There's something you should know. I suspect that if I have this child… They'll end up having my gemstone."

There had been seemingly endless discussions after that. Just the two of them, together, and then with the Gems. Those discussions had become more like arguments, sometimes, while at others Greg had thought the Gems didn't really understand, not really, what Steven's birth would mean for Rose's existence.

Even on the day of the birth itself, a sense of unreality seemed to cling to everything. Rose had lain on the Temple floor, on top of towels and blankets, propped up by pillows. She'd been smiling, even though that smile had been taut with pain. Pearl had drifted around her in anxious circles, before being unable to stand it anymore and gone running off. Amethyst had been jumping around like a puppy, or a kid waiting for a magician to pull a neat trick. Greg had sat by Rose's side, heaps of books about childbirth laying open around him. Rose had been clutching Garnet by the arm, grip tightening with each contraction. Greg had felt that should have been his job, he should have been there to provide comfort, but even then, Rose had been afraid of hurting him.

In the end, Greg hadn't seen how it'd happened. There'd been a bright burst of pink light, so bright it had left him blinded. And then, lying in the middle of the pillows and blankets, there'd been a little baby. A gemstone where its umbilical cord should have been, but otherwise normal, still covered in blood, his eyes scrunched closed, his mouth open as he wailed and wailed and wailed —

Greg'd picked the baby up, cleaned him, and hugged him. It hadn't been until much later he'd truly realized Rose was gone. It had hit him like a truck, and he'd cried for what felt like forever.

Now Greg fell against the wall of the van, struggling for breath. Rose had been gone, been gone for over fourteen years—

—and now she was back.

He was like that for a while, half-standing, half-crouching, lungs wheezing. Finally, he got control of himself, enough to find a half-buried water bottle. He splashed it over his face. The cold shocked him, forcing himself to blink and shake himself. He drank the water that remained in a single, long gulp. It helped.

Eventually, he caught his breath again. Rose was back. Rose was back, and that was good. That was... wonderful.

His shirt was drenched, but that was fine. Greg pulled it off, and changed into his cherry sweater— oh, Rose had always liked cherries, she'd be delighted! Then he rummaged around among the mess, until he managed to find a big hard cover book. Steven's Birthday Album. Perfect. He grabbed a few more things— a couple of framed pictures, his guitar— and headed back out.

They had fourteen years to catch up on.

oOoOoOo

Author's Note: At this point we've seriously considered summarizing each chapter as 'Character X is Not Coping'.