October 8, 1975

Toledo, OH

Pearl's new friend wasn't willing to let well enough alone. Humiliating at getting his ass publicly kicked by a girl, he decided to beat some reactionary sense into her.

Pearl was leaning against the car door, her face twisted into a hostile glare, her muscles tensing for another fight as he shouted insults, most involving "bitch" and "dyke" and similar epithets. But Greg, belatedly emerging from the hotel and still nursing headaches, responded more to the goon standing in front of her with a tire iron in his hand.

He rushed over just as the man appeared ready to clobber Pearl, then whipped out a can of bear mace and sprayed half the bottle directly into his eyes.

The man yelled in agony and fell writhing to the ground, tire iron clattering to the pavement. Pearl coolly kicked it out of the way and looked back at Greg.

"Come on, Pearl, let's get out of here," he urged, jumping into the passenger's seat.

Pearl still seemed shocked by what just happened, staring at the man twisting on the ground beneath her, but instinctively complied. She entered the car hit the gas pedal and raced into the street, narrowly missing a truck as she turned into traffic.

"Jesus Christ, Greg!" Pearl yelled, ignoring the honks and screams from behind her. "What was that about?"

"Please don't yell, Pearl," Greg groaned, clutching his head again. "Shoulda figured that guy was giving you trouble..."

"You know I'm perfectly capable of defending myself," Pearl huffed, straightening her shirt. "You didn't need to rescue me."

"I know, but...my way was faster."

Pearl harrumphed at this at first, but she couldn't help letting out a snicker as the words sunk in. As a silent gesture of truce, she reached down and turned on the car's air conditioner, even though it made her shoulders cold. She saw the barest ghost of a smile on Greg's face as he rested his head against the door, trying to fall back asleep.

It took about fifteen minutes before Pearl realized that they were headed in the wrong direction.

Just before sunset, after about two hours of tooling aimlessly around northwestern Ohio (and possibly crossing into Michigan at least once), they drove through Sylvania, a small but pleasant suburb. With a day of unpleasantness behind them, they checked into yet another hotel.

"Should we dial Garnet and Amethyst?" Greg wondered as they checked in. "I mean, this is kind of a detour..."

"A frustrating detour," Pearl agreed, feeling frustrated. "Usually I'm a much better driver than this."

"Well, it's Ohio..."

"True." And Pearl sat down and thought, turning on the desk lamp for a moment as Greg unloaded his baggage.

"How is your head, Greg?" Pearl asked.

"Doing better," Greg said. "The worst of it passed, at least. I think when you hit the speed bump it, like, knocked the bump back into place."

"Glad I could help," Pearl responded. "Still, if you need to lie down..."

"I could rest, but...hey, if you have stuff to do..."

"Hmm. Anyway, I don't think we should call them from here. At least not until we've found something. I mean, at some point you have to figure they'll be tracing our telephone..."

"Especially if they were able to call Garnet and Amethyst at their hotel..."

"Exactly. Now you're thinking like a Crystal Gem."

"Great," Greg sighed, falling backwards onto the mattress. "Guess I'll have to get some sword training, too."

Pearl chuckled. "Well, if you're in the mood I'd be happy to show you!"

"Sure, right after my nap."

Another awkward silence.

"I'm not overly hungry, but it does look like it's around dinner time," Pearl said, looking at her watch. "Do you want to eat anything...?"

"I haven't really eaten all day, so...maybe," Greg said. "Just gimme a few minutes to decompress."

Pearl watched as Greg buried his head in a pillow and wondered how long until he fell asleep.

She fished around in her purse, hoping she still had enough money for food (no guarantee of that after their impromptu hoteling spree).

"How about I just order some sandwiches or pizza or something?" Pearl asked. "I saw a sub place driving in here..."

"Sure."

Pearl fished around and found a menu for the restaurant in question, complete with a goofy Italian stereotype flipping a sandwich.

By the time she found it, Greg had fallen asleep. And Pearl decided she really wasn't that hungry.

Pearl walked alone through the streets in twilight, trying to balance her thoughts.

At least her injuries weren't bothering her much today. Too much on her mind, maybe. Even after the fight with the schlub in Toledo, she hadn't experienced any discomfort or pain.

Pearl was glad. She needed to heal. She needed to be whole, or there'd be no chance that she'd survive another round with Aquamarine and Jasper and Topaz.

She still couldn't puzzle out why Topaz had spared her life, especially after she'd just walloped Greg into submission moments earlier. Maybe she was working for someone else, though Pearl didn't have the faintest idea who or why.

Either way, wouldn't that be a laugh? Wheels within fucking wheels, as Lapis might say.

Pearl thought about Lapis, and shuddered to think what state she was in currently. Hoped she was still alive. Prayed that she wouldn't be stubborn and that she'd talk and allow the Gems to help her out.

She felt bad that the two of them, for all they seemed to have in common, hadn't talked or interacted much at all during their time at Beach City. But then Pearl had been in bed pretty much the whole time, and asleep for much of it. And Lapis was usually off enjoying herself with Peridot or listening to music with Amethyst.

Lapis was young, still, for all that she'd been through, and beautiful, and deserved to have fun. Pearl felt that she, herself, didn't.

She'd given up fun the moment Rose died. She needed to inherit her great love's cause and legacy to fight injustice and expose the truth.

Still, Garnet and Amethyst could decompress in their own ways, could enjoy themselves in ways that . Maybe it was the age difference, or maybe...there was something wrong with her.

She knew she hadn't gotten over Rose. She thought about her every minute of every day. And she knew that so many little things she used to enjoy, from reading and writing to music, no longer gave her any pleasure or enjoyment.

She hummed tunelessly as she walked down the street, drawing the attention of passers-by. A slight breeze ruffled her skirt, and she absently clamped it against her leg. She walked past the sub place she'd planned to order from, but didn't care.

I don't need to forget Rose, she scolded herself. I couldn't even if I wanted to. Even if it was healthy.

But I need to make my life work, somehow. I can't define myself purely by her.

I was my own person for a long time. Before Rose. Even while I was with her.

But then I defined myself as an FBI employee. A servant of the government. I can't go back to that.

Then be Pearl White. Be a person Rose would be proud of. Someone worthy of her love and legacy. In everything I do.

She stopped herself in the middle of the sidewalk, struck by this revelation and subconsciously hugging herself. She looked around her, then up towards the sky, as if hoping to see Rose's face amidst the heavens and the oversized moon.

There's definitely one thing I need to do, Pearl thought to herself. And though she felt a lurch of nervous nausea in her gut, she also felt a surge of happiness.

Because everything suddenly made sense.

Greg woke up when Pearl entered the room, accidentally banging the door against the wall. She carried a bag of takeout food in one hand.

"Oh Greg, I'm so sorry," she sputtered, kicking the door gently shut with her leg.

"No problem," he mumbled, rolling over and looking at the clock on the nightstand. "It's only 7:00, way too early even for me to sleep."

"Well, I have sandwiches at least," Pearl said. "And I had enough money left over to get some Cokes from the vending machine."

"Pearl White, you sure know how to spoil a fella," Greg said, rolling off the bed and onto the floor.

Pearl hesitated, then sat down next to him, and they enjoyed their food on the floor of the hotel room.

She bought Greg a meatball sub and a turkey sandwich for herself. At first they nibbled in silence, then Pearl steeled herself for the confrontation she'd been dreading.

Here goes nothing.

"Greg..." she began, unsure what exactly to say. But he was distracted.

"I really hope this soda doesn't explode," Greg muttered as he popped open the Coke can.

"Amethyst isn't here," Pearl said. "You have no reason to expect that."

"Hey, it's just my luck," he said before taking a swig of soda. "So hard to drink this and not think..."

And he left the thought hanging. Pearl decided to bring it up, as delicately as she could.

"So...how long has it been since you've had a drink?"

"Eight months," he said. "Will be nine...next week, I think."

"Hmm. I'm...really proud of you, Greg," she said with a shy smile. "I know it's been hard dealing with...Rose and everything else, so..."

"It's one less thing for me to worry about," Greg said, swigging the rest of the can down in one gulp. Pearl stared at him, then blanched as he belched loudly and grossly.

"Sorry," he said, wiping some soda off his lips and chin. "Some old habits never die."

Pearl winced before continuing.

"Sometimes I wish I had a way of dealing with..." she began. "I mean, not that I want to be an alcoholic or anything like that..."

"You really don't, Pearl. It takes over your life until there's nothing left but your addiction. Nothing but memories of your last beer and anticipation for the next one. And a lot of pain and blackness in between. That's no way to live."

"I know how addiction works, Greg," Pearl said, more dismissively than she intended.

"Yeah? You think so? Not until it happens to you." Greg tossed his soda can at the garbage bin and missed. "Maybe you think you know, but..."

"Greg, I'm sorry!" she blurted out. Her directness startled them both, but now that the cat was out of the bag she plunged into it.

"Greg...I know what happened to Rose isn't your fault. She just...she kept something from both of us. Think of that. The two people who knew her better than anyone else and we didn't even know she had a problem. How could we have known?"

"I thought about that every day after it happened," Greg admitted. "For weeks. I still do, sometimes. I found her stash, like, two days after she died. She had injectable stuff and pills, too, hidden in a fucking hideaway compartment in her desk."

"Part of me said, you couldn't have done anything, and that's probably true," he said, tears brimming in his eyes. "I mean, she didn't want me to know. And I never would have guessed. She didn't show any of the signs that I thought about...I mean, sometimes she'd be all euphoric and over-the-top in her emotions, but...I dunno, I never saw that as being that different from how she always was."

"Yeah," Pearl agreed quietly.

"But you can't help thinking, wishing there was some way you could change the past."

"You can't," Pearl assured him. And to his surprise, clasped his hand and held it. He didn't seem to know what to do with this development, but accepted it for the moment.

"Anyway...maybe that's why I drank," Greg continued, steadying himself with great difficulty. "Or maybe...I dunno. I was brought up thinking it was stupid to talk about your feelings, that I'm a guy and that emotions are for women or kids or whatever. That whole macho line of bullshit was big in my family. But, I mean, the older I got the less helpful biting down on my feelings seemed to be. But when Rose went...there didn't seem anywhere to go."

"None of your friends helped out?" Pearl asked. She remembered how much support and understanding Garnet and Amethyst gave her. It didn't erase all her feelings, but it helped her cope, made her feel loved, maybe even prevented Pearl from taking her own drastic action in response.

And...she felt more than a little guilty that she hadn't even thought about how Greg might feel. Instead, she blamed him. And no doubt helped drive him to drink.

"They tried, or some of them did. My cousin Andy...you know, he's an asshole in a lot of ways, he's not that different from our friend in Toledo...but he has a good heart, and he really tried to reach out once he heard what happened. Of course, his idea of reaching out involved getting me drunk and trying to hook me up with some of his lady friends...but I appreciated the gesture, I guess. I just kinda felt, there was no way I was going to love anyone again."

Pearl shook her head. She wanted to say something to comfort him, but couldn't form the words. And knew that she had the same feelings.

"And then I thought, well, maybe that's not the healthiest way to look at women, you know? As something to fuck." He winced at his own words and blushed, afraid of Pearl's reaction. "Not that, you know...I never thought of Rose that way. Not ever. She was gorgeous, but she was something else. But, you know, I was guilty of...me and Marty did some rotten things in our younger days..."

Pearl felt the shame radiating from him, and how hard it was for him to spill his guts.

"All you can do is move on and mature," Pearl said, trying to empathize with Greg. "Which is hard, I know. I'm not one to speak about moving on. But one thing I do know is that...you shouldn't blame people for things they did in the past...as long as they've learned from it."

Pearl and Greg looked at each other until they smiled. Greg started to cry, then looked away and grabbed his sandwich.

Pearl smiled too, taking another bite of her food as Greg struggled to collect himself.

They didn't say anything more about it. At least not then, during their meal. But by that point, they didn't need to.

Pearl threw everything away as neatly as they could. Greg, looking a little relieved by their conversation, went back to the bed and stared at the ceiling.

"Did you bring one of your books along?" Greg asked. "I remember you always had to bring something to read with you everywhere you went."

"As a matter of fact!" Pearl answered, pulling out a slim volume that she'd grabbed from the Beach House.

"Kurt Vonnegut, huh?" Greg said, scanning the cover. "Wouldn't have taken you for a fan."

"Needed something different from my usual," Pearl said, cracking open the cover. "Besides, this one's set in Ohio."

"Ah, I see. Do you mind if I turn the radio on for a few minutes?"

"Sure," Pearl said, leaning back against her pillow as she started to read, using a little slip of torn notebook paper as a bookmark.

Greg turned on a rock station and dialed the volume low, so as not to disturb Pearl.

They might not be close friends now, but they had an understanding, at least. The atmosphere between them seemed much less tense, much more enjoyable, and both seemed content to let their own little worlds occupy the same space.

At least, until a familiar tune came on the air.

"Oh God," Greg moaned, burying his head in the pillow. "I swear I can't get away from this thing!"

Pearl perked up and listened. Sure enough, it was Greg's hit, "Water Witch," playing yet again.

"I'd thought you'd be happy that this song was still playing," Pearl said.

"Yeah, still is the operative word," Greg cried. "This same song! Reminding me that I'm a one-hit wonder and that I'll never sell any albums ever again. Ugh."

"Well...it's something," Pearl assured him. "It's more of a legacy than some of us will have."

"Yeah?" Greg responded skeptically.

"Besides...it's not a completely terrible song," Pearl said, even though she'd grown heartily sick of hearing Rose play it.

Greg laid back and listened to one of his guitar riffs, acting it out on his bed.

"Yeah, I guess it has its strong points," he joked. Though he sighed as the last verse began.

Pearl snapped her book shut. Hesitating just a moment, she put it down and walked over to Greg, who stared dumbfoundedly as she offered him his hand.

"Greg Universe...may I have this dance?"

Greg hesitated, not sure what to say, then smiled and stood up. A grateful smile that broke Pearl's heart.

The two of them embraced and danced slowly across the room, not speaking or making a sound or saying anything. Even as the song ended and "After the Gold Rush" came on the radio, they stayed together, swaying and dancing numbly, just enjoying each other's company.

They had one thing in common that few other people had...they had loved and lost Rose Quartz.

They could reflect on that fact and take comfort in that fact. It wouldn't erase all the past, it wouldn't heal all the scars, but it would make things more bearable.

That night, Pearl was happy. And so was Greg.

And so, both of them thought, was Rose.

Because that night, in that hotel room, they had finally reached an understanding. They might even be friends, now.

And that was enough.