She plans on avoiding him. She will. She is.
But then Amethyst calls her over, and after a short protest she knew was futile, she's staring at him from over his crib.
He smiles up at the sight of Pearl It's a silly, doppy little smile. Nothing like Rose's, yet similar enough to be nostalgic, familiar.
He opens his mouth, slow, sluggish, lips forming around thick, thick words,
"Ma… Ma..." And he reaches up toward Pearl with a quick, grabby grabby motion.
He, of course, has no idea how much this affects her. How it tugs so harshly at her heartstrings.
In that moment, she knows she's lost.
She's swept up by this fiery, maternal instinct (confusing, yet entirely, completely sensical). She sweeps him up in her arms, and holds him close, and swears to protect him. Nothing else exists, except her and this child.
"Steven," She cradles the back of his head, and nuzzles his cheek.
Her child.
Amethyst laughs, teases, but Pearl ignores her.
She plans on avoiding him. She will. She is.
She just doesn't know what to do. She spends hours stalking the empty halls, through desolate, silent rooms suddenly so barren without Steven's familiar voice. Pulling at her hair, unable to contain the concern that seemed to gnaw at her very gem.
After an hour spent in the garden, arguing about what to do, how to do, eyes wet, distraught with all the overwhelming concern of family, the gems had parted ways. Pearl had stepped on the warp pad, moments from zipping to Homeworld to chase after Steven. Garnet had rested her hand on Pearl's shoulder, startling her. The petite gem turns, blue eyes wide with desperation. The look behind that peach visor said it all.
"But…"
"He needs space," Her tone is firm, leaving no room for argument, "Chasing after him now will only mae it worse. We have to wait for him to come to us"
Pearl didn't like it. The jerk of Garnet's cheek, tiny and almost imperceptible, said she didn't either. But she was usually right.
So now, Pearl was waiting. Waiting for him to come back. For him to finally talk to them. It's excruciating. She finds herself feeling unbearably restless, pacing, pacing through the house.
She just wished he'd talk to them. She could tell he was hurting, had seen the shame curling across his features as he erected that rosy pink barrier between them, that literal, figurative wall of separation. She could see it so clearly, yet was completely unable to help him. Barred from it, by the same boy she'd cooked every breakfast for, and sung silly songs with, and read bedtime stories to (no, he was not quite that same child, but he was still Steven, and he was still her child: hers, more than anyone else's). It hurt.
She was so worried about him. So worried for him.
The screen door of the beach house opens, as someone lets themselves in. Pearl had been too absorbed in her musings to notice the sound of knocking. She turns swiftly, to see Greg, standing just inside the doorway, looking sheepish.
Just Greg. Not Steven. Not some monster.
"Hey, uh, where's Steven," He rubs the back of his neck, smiling awkwardly.
His eyes are glassy. He's been thinking for awhile. Overthinking, maybe. Pearl knows the look.
"He left. Three hours ago," She says, with a sigh.
His face falls with disappointment. He looks away.
"I wanted to talk to him. Tell him I'm sorry," When he turns back, he seems surprised by the look on her face, "What happened?"
She could not answer that. They still didn't know what happened. No one did but Steven, and he was still out, presumably on homeworld.
"I just… don't know what to do," She cries out, and the indignance is back, masking the concern that was choking her "He was so upset, and he wouldn't tell us why, and I… just don't know anymore"
This was hard.
Greg turns away, contemplative, reflective, "I mean, geez. I haven't known for years"
"That's not helping," She sniffles, wiping at her nose.
He laughs. It's awkward and stiff and not all there. She laughs too, though, because laughter was always contagious, and it was better than bursting out in tears like the confused, lost people they were.
It just hurts, so bad.
It peeters out. She gazes out the window, past dark, roiling waves and pale sand, cool drafts through tiny spaces between tight boards. She picks at the thread of her jacket, rolls her foot, and tries not to let the burn of artificial bulb light sear through her retinas.
Her tone is withdrawn, and concerned, when she finally does speak.
"Something's very wrong. Something's been wrong for awhile. How did we not notice?"
Steven was theirs. They should have known. Should have seen.
"I don't know"
The silence that follows is deafening.
Had to get this out before the next episodes air. Can't wait for this finale! Whoo. Hopefully Stevie is okay. Also, next one will include reactions from Garnet and Amethyst.