Afterwards, Steven's mission not to be swayed by that ugly word was thrown off by the waves, soothed by them. The waves turned into Connie's hand stroking through his hair. If she tried to start a conversation with him, he wouldn't have known. Four minutes later, he was fast asleep.
When he woke up that morning on December the 7th, what he found was his Omnitransmitter, overrun with messages. He was going to shove it off to the side like he did every day, him managing to prop it back on the table every night with the resolution he'd get to it sometime. But with a full month of speeches ahead of him, he decided to go one step further. Since it was a piece of equipment that was expensive even for a Gem, he wouldn't go so far as to demolish it. Instead, he locked it in the spare bedroom's closet and kept the keys on top of the door. Connie didn't mind. Actually, her eyes seemed to light up a little when she saw Steven put the key at the top of the door.
The next of that month was a flurry of speeches. All the important ones were finished; he didn't dare do another speech on the side of the Capitol that was closest to the humans, let alone to the President that was oftentimes a large cog in the clock of all this trouble.
December the 9th, where the locations of his speeches made a flank along the Capitol-Maryland border, it was Connie that a group of disgruntled humans decided to attack next, this time towards Connie. Do you know what hell you'll put your children through, they said, and do you know what psychological harms that a marriage of your type will cause them? If you even try for children with Steven, one of them, a well-educated, otherwise soft-spoken man said, then you'll die!
Are you even human? cried out a group of ten or twenty of them, three or four of them raising up a sign saying the same thing.
Are you human?
Are you human?
The cry rose up, rose like the sun did in its musty way on the Capitol's shoulders every morning.
She looked at Steven. Steven looked back at her, his hands practically shaking on the makeshift podium.
And before Steven knew it, the love of his life was kissing him, and he was kissing her, and she was there and he was there, and that was all that mattered.
December the 10th, they did suffer repercussions. But, as Steven would later find out, the kiss was more than a kiss. It weeded out those who did support them and those who wouldn't. And he would later tell Connie that this would divide the two groups even further than they would now. Connie sighed, a sack of flour slumping over, and told Steven that she knew. She wasn't thinking.
"We aren't thinking. And it's not just because we're eighteen. No one's thinking here, Connie. Not in this game. No matter how much we think we are."
December the 14th, Connie was about to go off to a more rural area of the town they were staying in, this time moving up the eastern area of Maryland, starting with Delmarva right behind them and forging forward, making their way to the west. From there, they'd make the harrowing decision. Should they go to the North, where they'd be more likely to be tolerated? Or should they go to the South, where it was most needed? In a bundle of irony, going to the South would be taking the high path here.
"I'm going Christmas shopping, Steven. Trying to beat the crowds."
Nothing.
Thinking he was doing another one of his video chats, she walked closer to his room. As much as Steven teased her for it, she didn't knock on the door; whoever Steven was video chatting to would want desperately to see her.
"Steven-"
Everything in her tensed; the bile skyrocketed to her head, and she almost doubled over, clutching her stomach. But even when the ache passed, the bile wouldn't leave her head. None of this would leave her head.
The bathroom door was open; Steven was keeled in front of the toilet. Connie could tell from a hundred feet away that he'd used it to hurl in it. He was sweating. So much sweat, so much swear. He twitched a little, then lay still. She sucked in a breath, tried to keep her body from shaking, knew that there was something she had to do. First aid. First aid.
She put Steven on his side. Should she call anyone?
"Steven!" She didn't mean for it to be a scream. "Steven!"
She shook his shoulders back and forth. Nothing.
No. No.
She noticed the pink glow around his navel and knew. She let out a sob, a single sob, thanked everything and everyone.
When they were kids, Steven'd had a conversation with Connie over the same guard rail that was put in after Amethyst took her infamous tumble. Lion was playing fetch with her. Amethyst had done a surprisingly good job of keeping the frisbee close enough to where Lion's head wouldn't barge into the two of them while they were talking.
But it wasn't Lion's head that was the problem.
His tail grabbed onto Steven's waist. Before a half a second was over, Steven was tossed backwards and let go by the tail. His head had hit the guardrail before his eyes fell shut and he slid and fell. The rock that'd cracked Amethyst's gem hit Steven's right arm, and it bent like a bat's wing before he settled motionless into the sand.
That day, just about all of them discovered what Steven called his "generator when it snows real hard"- in other words, what kept him alive when his human half, the primary breathing in and breathing out, was in danger. In danger, not dead. Not nonfunctioning. Only malfunctioning. The gem pulsated, kept breath going in and out of his lungs and his heart beating the way that it was supposed to. No hospital would need a life support system as long as the Gem was functioning; it was what replaced the regeneration properties in full-blooded Gems, kept it blended with his human body. Blended with something more than a hologram.
Steven was rushed to the hospital that day. At first, that was what Connie thought she should do to Steven now as he lay in front of the toilet. But her fingers shook. Her fingers shook as she dialed 911, wondered if and how they'd discover it was Steven they were coming to pick up, if they'd turn tail and go back to the hospital as soon as it occurred to them that he was half of one of them.
She knew she was alright now. At least halfway. The operator was trained to find out what was wrong with Steven much quicker than Connie was. All the thinking wouldn't be up to her. In a matter of two minutes, she was instructed to take off Steven's jacket so no one else would be contaminated.
" Contaminated with what?" she asked, although it tiptoed on a yell. "With what?"
"Arsenic, ma'am."
Arsenic. Oh, God. How could she not see this coming? How could she and Steven have thrown themselves headlong into this without reading any of the dangers? They saw them. They skimmed them. But they never read them. The road ahead was much brighter than that. Too bright to see the thorns.
"The chef!" she almost yelled, the tears in her throat the only thing holding her back. "It was the dam chef!"
She was instructed to sit Steven up so he wouldn't choke, rinse his mouth should he accidentally swallow any more. She noticed tears. She dried them off, too, and she let her own fall.

When Steven woke up at the hospital hours later, his stomach pumped and unpleasant, it was Spinel's hand that was holding his to the point of tingling.
"Hey, Waffles." He was surprised he'd remembered that.
The biggest smile in the world went on her face, and after half-squealing, half-saying his name, she took him in a hug big enough to make his back ribs start being sore.
"Nice to see you, too."
She'd grown. She'd grown so much, and Steven had missed it. She was reading human books, listening to human music, learned not to use her stretchiness when she was in public. She'd visited all the tourist attractions Beach City had to offer while laying low and sticking with the other Gems so Greg wouldn't be in danger. She hadn't had a burst of outrage in over a month according to Pearl, and that had been when she and Garnet were sharing memories and war stories of Rose. Thinking that Spinel didn't deserve as much of a dose of grief as they were getting, they'd sent her to her room. Little did they know how much it'd backfire.
He missed it all.
He had to stop.
No, not stop. He had to slow down. If he didn't, he may lose his life, both in a literal sense and whatever sense his head and heart came up with.
As he came out of the hug and Spinel sprang up out of her seat to make a phone call to the rest of his family, he looked around. Looked at the sign. He was back near Beach City now. Most definitely in Delmarva.
Even without the waves, seagulls still flew. Still teased him. He could still smell home in the air.
He could slow down here.
He had to slow down here.

After Christmas, he decided. On Saint Stephen's day, he decided. After that, he'd leave. He'd have a little over ten days with them, and that was all. He was staying for the holidays, that was all. Neither he nor Connie were abandoning their political life. Connie brought this up to him, tired dinner-plates under her eyes, and told him how she was planning to spend the holidays with her family in lieu of Steven's. He nodded, and with a heaping pan of dhanu muan and a kiss that lasted a long while, she was off.
The first day he and Connie came back, Greg and Steven talked for a long, long while. Didn't talk about how Steven hadn't done a gig with him lately, but that Greg had scheduled at least 3 as soon as Steven announced he was staying at home for the holidays. Talked about life and love and how complicated all of that was. Talked about how poor Pearl was beating herself up for how she was feeling about Greg, and how Greg was doing his best to stop it. Greg thought that everything he did made it worse. But there was one thing that stuck with Steven for at least the rest of the day.
"We were out of food, so we got some on the way to the grocery store." He had a small, goofy little smile on him that Steven was in we with; it probably hadn't appeared on his face since before Steven was born. "It was so stupid. When she stepped out of the car, she saw how this one sedan parked between two spaces. And she started laughing. The simplest thing. But the way she laughs… the wind, it can't stop it…"
His childhood bedroom. He hi-fived the same Mr. Universe poster he'd hi-fived since he was tall enough to do it. He looked at it, looked at all the way things were arranged. Other than what he'd taken with him, his father hadn't changed a thing. He even took a tour to look at all the stains that had accumulated over the past fifteen or so years. The memories struck him, and he was knocked down to the bed. It was too big to squeeze up small apartment stairs.
The tears flowed with no reason, no origin. The smell, even the smell. It was something that wouldn't ever leave him.
For awhile, he was a child.
But only for awhile.
He wished he could've been for longer.
But only for awhile.

Garnet must've come in in the middle of Steven's nap. He knew by the way part of his sheets were tucked in perfectly by Pearl, and then only halfway ruined on the other end.
He also knew by the note that was left by the side of the dresser.
"We're all worried about you. But whatever decision you decide to make, we'll support it. Or at least I will."
Steven chuckled a little and headed downstairs.

That late afternoon, after conversation after conversation of how Steven's political life was doing so far other than him being poisoned with arsenic by the hotel chef, Spinel told Steven of how quickly she was catching up to human technology.
"It sucks," she said. But then she giggled. "But I like it. Something charmin' about it."
"How often're you on there?"
"I dunno. An hour a day, maybe? I'm learning really quick. Although Greg told me that with my reputation, it wouldn't be the smartest idea for me to get a social media account." She shrugged at him, then stretched herself so her top half was sticking out the door while her bottom half was still sitting in the seat. She cupped her hands around her mouth. "I CAN STILL MAKE A FAKE ACCOUNT, MR. GREG!"
"WHAT?"
"I SAID, I CAN MAKE, A FAKE, ACCOUNT!"
"NO!"
Spinel made a little sigh, and by the time her top and bottom half were at the same. By the time Spinel looked at Steven, he was a little pale.
She made a little giggle before almost slapping herself for it. "Sorry, Steven. I don't do that as often. Just when it's convenient."
Steven could've told her about why Greg said "no". About the amount of danger Spinel would be putting him in, about the IP that could easily be detected by hackers no matter how anonymous she'd made it. But he didn't. Instead, he, knowing what kind of trouble she could get into by putting herself out to the world, dashed to his room and came back with two tiny machines that played the game "Doom the Darkness", Steven and Amethyst's favorite.
"What do you even do on here?" She tapped the screen.
"It's a bit tricky, but I think you'll get the hang of it. You have these buttons to move, this button to fire, this button to start the game, and THIS one to activate your cloaking device."
"Cloaking device?"
"Yeah, makes your ship invisible."
"Yeah, I know. I had that feature on my injector. I'm just wondering why that button's so big here."
Steven got a chill right in the middle of his spine. "Spinel, this isn't an actual ship."
"It isn't? It looks a little weird."
"No, this is like a game of pretend."
Her eyes lit up like firecrackers, and Steven couldn't help but chuckle and put a hand on her shoulder. "Here, you pretend to be the ship."
Steven was particularly interested to see her reaction once she died for the first time. She made the quietest yell Steven could remember and gripped the carpet before taking a breath and starting again.
"That it, Spinny?"
Okay, that was a little cruel.
"Sorry."
"S'okay, Steven. I need stuff like that sometimes. Helps me fight against it harder."
After the third time, however, she got the hang of it. She even loved how it mirrored old Gem aerial tactics of evading bullets from tens or even hundreds of ships while fighting back with a single one, which is why Steven loved it so much in the first place. She even got past the fifth level without getting hurt, but was obliterated the sixth one.
"S'okay, Spinel. I played this thing for five years before I beat level six."
"Yeah, but you were a kid."
Steven smiled, almost said, "So are you."
. By the time Steven played the game again to see if his grown-up, chubby fingers were good enough to beat level eight, Pearl walked into the room.
"Four hours. She was on that computer for four hours when she first went on it, Steven. I don't know what to do with her!"
Steven and Spinel couldn't help but laugh, and if only Steven was alien enough to transcend, or at least freeze, time.

Two days later on December 17th, just before lunchtime, Garnet started shifting back and forth, obviously in discomfort while Greg fried up some hotdogs and Pearl tried to make a sugar crystal sculpture nearby that'd be "too good for them to eat" when she was done.
"Garnet? You okay?"
"Sure I am." Two voices. Steven was almost thrown back in her seat, while Pearl looked back and said a sad little "she does that sometimes" before going back.
"It's...pretty clear that you're not. Want to sit down?"
Steven tried to make a resolution that whatever problem Garnet was having, he wouldn't fix. But that became harder and harder the more the seconds passed, and immediately, his resolution barreled out into the Atlantic outside like a message in a bottle.
"How's the whole….'unnatural' thing?"
Garnet cringed. "It's not getting better."
Spinel had to smile at Garnet's clipped-off "t"s, and it was the first time Steven had even noticed them at all.
"Seems that they hate that part of mnas more than they do mnas itself."
An effortless fusion, an allegory. The word for "me" or "I" in Gem was "mnie", while the word for "us" in Gem was "nas". They were blended easily into "mnas" shortly after Gems discovered they could fuse hundreds of thousands of years ago. "Me" and "us". "I" and "we". "Mnas. ¨ She only used it when she was emotional. And Steven hadn't remembered her using that word since he at least first moved out to the Capitol.
"And how did…" Steven looked behind him, saw a cream-colored woman watch them at the edge of the property line, looked on sternly and waited until she walked away. "And how did they find out?"
"I...I don't know. Maybe the-"
She suddenly stood up to her full height, backed down a little when she saw how frightened Steven was.
"The wedding, Steven. At least fifty humans were there. And it's not like we knew they were all supportive. Not like your dad or Lars or Sadie. Any one of them could've been there under cover, and they could've told everyone they knew."
She covered her forehead with both hands. Steven gasped a little, and it was only when Garnet saw them both when she took a breath, tried to articulate something useful from that crowded-to-the-fire-marshal's-wits'-end that was her mind.
"We want to move somewhere. Both of us. Anywhere. Not here. You see these people, they think that biology's all there is to it. They think that anything else is unnatural. This species doesn't even need population, even they have released their own papers-"
"Hey. Garnet? Garnet. Look at me."
Nothing from her.
He knew not to put his hands on her shoulders, but he tapped a hand to the left frame of her visor, and it seemed to have the same effect.
"You are not unnatural. Love isn't unnatural. What you have is just as natural as what...Connie and I had." He didn't dare to venture into "whLook at you! You're a rock! Two rocks! You're the most natural thing there is!"
She made something in between a grunt and a wince, looked towards the ground.
"And besides all of that. You know what rocks also are?"
"Strong." No hesitation. "All of us are."

Well, I guess I'm only halfway strong, then, thought Steven. Oh, well. It's been like that since forever.

December the 19th, Amethyst was searching. When Steven was falling asleep that night, he could hear her tapping, tapping, tapping. He smiled and made a little chuckle-wheeze. Amethyst was always so thoughtful, when it came to Christmas presents. Not with anything else, through. But Steven thought he was at first hallucinating when he woke up at three in the morning. Other than the routine pattering of the waves that had swept into his mind at a young age enough for him to always be able to fall asleep to it- wait. Pattering. That didn't sound right.
The sound was coming out of Steven's room. He stepped out of his bed before subconsciously putting a hand on the Mr. Universe poster. He squinted in the slightest amount of disappointment as he realized the tapping was more typing from Amethyst's computer in her room. At first, he thought she had something to hide, but Steven noticed the clearly open door and her silk-and-cotton hair being lit by the computer while she brushed it back every so often.
There was one problem: Spinel's door was open, too.
Spinel was covering herself with her pillow, her eyebags drooping to the ground. "Why's sleep hafta be so hard, Stevie? I haven't gotten a lick of sleep…"
"Shhh." Steven put a hand on her cheek and moved down, brushed her pigtails, and she felt the need to close her eyes again after a few times. "I know sleeping's still new to you. And you might not have known this, but sleep works better when your room is quiet. So… close the door before you go to sleep, okay?"
Steven felt...cheated. Cheated that he hadn't gotten to play this role for the entire time he was being raised. That he was an only child. Why, because Gems couldn't handle pregnancy like humans could? That cheated them all.
She nodded, but as Steven moved to leave the room, she said the words that Steven was sure Pearl had been hearing since the first week she'd came here.
"Don't leave me."
Something was wrong with Steven. He gripped on the door handle. He tried to walk forward, pushed himself back a little, so it looked like he was jerking in place, or stopping entirely. He was neutralizing himself, and he went into a panic. He couldn't control himself. His movement. His thinking- his thinking wasn't right, either. No, I'm not going to leave her. She obviously needs me, even if she is a little annoying. And besides, how long would it take for her to fall asleep?
Leave her. She's a drag on you.
No! Why would I do that?! Why would I think that/?!
He had to sit down. Had to-he collapsed, banged the back of his upper arm against Spinel's dresser.
"Steven? Steven, you okay?"
All of a sudden, a pool of contradiction took over Steven. Was this what it was like to be Garnet? Was her head swimming in these thoughts all the time? Memories of a thousand years bashed his head. Bashed it two times. Three. Four. Five. Six.
Do it! Do it, Steven, because you did it before!
I know. I know where this is going. No. I'm my own person now. You know that, right?
I know. But do it for the sake of your sanity, for the sake of mine.
It took some more searching, but he found that the voice of him doing it was his mother. A figment of her. Their subconsciousness was sharing, and he was wallowing in all four corners of it.
No. No, Mom, no, why are you here, Mom…
He shook, and thoughts were him, and he opposed all of them, and he shook, and he shook, and he fell asleep long before Spinel ever would.

Heart thumping. Thumping. Thumping. Thumping.
His eyes shot open. After a few seconds, he realized he was still in Spinel's room, the lights turned on and highlighting all the posters on the walls. His dad was staring almost directly into his eyes.
"Pearl. Pearl, he's awake. You can tell the operator that. You're okay. You're okay, right?"
"Y…." he couldn't say the full word yet. Not now. He shut his eyes again before he tried to sit up.
Pearl practically yelled as she tried to force his legs still, but as Garnet and Amethyst pulled her off, Greg just moved the door so that Steven could more easily get his balance and sit up.
"You okay?" Greg repeated.
He blinked. He blinked again. Saw the looks on all their faces and looked at the ground in order to avoid them. Then, he laughed.
"First the arsenic, then this." His laughing grew louder. "Man, can't you guys buy me a LifeAlert?"
Most of them at least smiled. Only Garnet sighed, said, "He's fine," and left. But the space whe opened led his line of vision to Spinel at the edge of the bed, looking down.
"Why were you all panicking?" Steven asked as he slowly shuffled his way to his feet.
"Because you were." Greg helped him up, and Steven didn't object.
"What? No, I wasn't! I was just thinking something that my mom wouldn't, that's all!"
Pearl piped up . "You weren't just ...panicking, Steven. You were full-on convulsing."
"Pearl." His father's exhausted voice this time. He sighed. "It wasn't full-on convulsing. He was just twitching once every few seconds or so. If it weren't for it happening so often, it may as well have been muscle spasms from staying up so late all those nights working on speeches." He patted his shoulder before Amethyst came around.
"Steven?"
"Yeah?"
He was so tired. So tired, and he let his arms slip to his lap, his lap slip to the bed, his body following it.
"You know what I was doing tonight, right?"
He shook his head, grabbed a pillow and pushed his cheek against it.
"I was seeing if there was a Gem army anywhere I could apply to."

All the family could do was hope that nothing was buried in Rose's conscience more than she'd already revealed it to be.
And Spinel always had trouble sleeping once she realized how much Rose had thought of her.

He always remembered Christmas. Remembered the way his father would always joke about how the day didn't matter and that tomorrow was Saint Stephen's Day, even if his days of being too overly Christian with his family were at least decades behind him.
He remembered the way the winter always turned on its end and the way the sky would always have its way of changing. The moon would lengthen and brighten, and since he was a child, he'd have the impulse late at night, after every present was unwrapped and after almost every guest had left the house, to shout out, to put on all of the jewelry that had belonged to girlfriends his father'd left behind a long, long time ago, and to half-dance with the women in the house under the moon in the backyard celebrating a Moon Goddess he didn't necessarily believe in.
Then again, he felt as if he'd never be able to do more than half of anything.
He'd received Connie's present… a book that appeared to be on public speaking until he read it and realized it was a different book altogether, a compilation of superhero comics dug up from the back of the publishing house the comic was originally in. He'd read it all Christmas morning, putting every attempt on his life, every speech, every stress from both sides of him before his father called his name and it was almost lunchtime.
As they all gathered in front of the Christmas tree, Garnet was still trying to explain to Spinel what a Christmas was and why people gave items to each other without anyone meriting them.
"But why during the middle of winter?"
"Because that's when humans first decided it to be."
"And why is there a picture of a baby in a...wooden house?"
"It's complicated. But it's because of your dad and what he used to be, and it's because the local store had nothing else good for sale because just about everyone here is what your dad used to be."
She covered her mouth, adjusted her visor to make sure it covered her eyes enough. "What Greg used to be."
Spinel didn't seem to notice. "And why is the tree not made of cryo-infused chloromatter? It'd be a lot cheaper, not to mention more efficient."
Her face was stone. "I'm not Pearl. Don't ask me."
Spinel frowned a little and looked towards the ground, and Garnet tried to touch her shoulder in an apology before Spinel turned back around, laughed in mischief, and sprang out of the way to look for any presents that may belong to her. Garnet couldn't help but chuckle twice; once for what'd happened with Spinel, and twice for her being the only one she could know who could send a gift to herself without it being considered cheating.
Steven chuckled as he finished opening his first present, but as soon as he tugged the golden wrapping on the second one, Pearl made the mistake of turning on the TV in search of one of the Christmas specials.
On the way, she found a news channel with one headline.
"NEW STATE ORDINANCE INVOLVING THE PROTECTIVE SEPARATION OF HUMANS AND EXTRATERRESTRIAL BEINGS TO BE IMPLEMENTED IN THE NEXT HOUR."

Over the next hour, everyone had their own reactions. There was Greg, who only repeated, "I knew it" before laying out maps of the town. There was Pearl, who screamed and locked the doors and shut the windows, even one of the chairs and barred the back door with it. Garnet guarded the front and kept lookout, saying things only Ruby would say once in awhile. Spinel didn't know what to do. Didn't know how she was going to handle her separation from Greg, and for a moment Steven could've sworn he saw her tears lengthening.
Only Amethyst contributed her possible battle strategies. Vantage points to take down the human officials when they arrived. The lightpad was not an option, as they didn't know how many were guarding the one out in the gem sect of Beach City. Going out of state, to Delaware up north a half an hour away, was their best bet, they concluded. But how to get away, they wondered? They could use the ocean as a possible escape point, but the only thing Greg had was a sailboat that would leave them sitting ducks for the hour it would take to get all of them out of sight.
But the van…
Greg knew back roads to take, eroded from some of the collective remnants of Hurricanes Dorian, Edouard, and Fred that had whiplashed their way up there. No way the authorities would risk taking that road unless they had to. And they only had to if they saw them. The van could fit all of them easily. It was hiding them that was the problem…
Greg's gears went into overdrive as he sprinted to his garage, not taking Amethyst with him. He rustled through pile after pile and took dimmer, which looked like blinds with spots all over them and a giant Thomas the Tank Engine plastered on it. He'd put them in to keep the sun out of Steven's eyes when he was younger. One quick "haven't gotten the money to buy another one, and besides, these work fine" and he wouldn't be questioned. Everyone would have to stoop down and lay on the floor in a semi dogpile. For space purposes, Spinel was a little too eager to volunteer to poof herself, which resulted in everyone screaming, or at least firmly telling, her not to.
But as time passed, they looked on with worry at how little space was in the van. If they dogpiled, not only would it be uncomfortable- if someone looked in the window a little too hard or opened the door, they'd all tumble out just like that. So they found a heavy metal rod Steven kept under his bed in case an intruder came. Garnet, the only one with the nerve to do it, all had them line up and then clubbed them all on the head with it once, hard enough for her to end up with a handful of very valuable, mostly intact gemstones in her hand and nothing more.
She was rushing them all down to the garage, wrapped in a bath towel, when she asked the question. "Should we tell the others?"
Everything stopped. If they told them now, they'd only have fifteen minutes or so to evacuate. And enough people running around trying to evacuate meant they'd all be spotted.
But if they didn't, could they live with themselves?
After the texts made, Steven wondered if he could live with himself as Garnet asked him to hit her again with the rod.
"Please." Tears came from her top eye, pouring, and dripped from one of her bottom ones; she clutched her head and tried to sit up. "I didn't hit myself hard enough."
Steven grimaced, shut his eyes. He raised it into the air, and everything in him whipped around in a tornado, stopped as Greg grabbed his brother's left-behind hunting rifle- for self defense in case they came across more violent authorities- and did the job. Two more valuable gems appeared on the floor.
"Oh, my God."
Greg shook as he put the rifle down. Steven ran towards the garage door, pushed the button to lift the door. Now that they weren't needed, he put back the decade-old Thomas the Tank Engine blinders.
"Steven. Steven, I shot her. Steven…"
He crumpled onto his knees, trying to catch his workseat as he went down.
Steven grabbed the gems, stuffed them all into the glove compartment. By the time he came back, Greg had already stuttered halfway across the garage, putting up his hand when Steven offered to drive. Greg turned off the tracking device on his phone along with Steven and backed out of the garage.
"I know someone up in Rehoboth. We can stay there, Steven."
"In one of the beach houses?" Steven jostled along with the van as it set out on the half-sand.
"Yeah. It's not the best, but it's our best shot. We don't know the landscape there yet. But it's gotta be better than here, Steven. It's gotta."
The trucks. They were designed to look like cattle cars; that was apparent to both humans there. They hoped it was for intimidation purposes only. A bad sign. A bad sign...
"Go, Dad! Go!"
He regretted it as the van's jostling confused his seatbelt, and it tightened over his chest the point of him coughing as he jostled some more. Greg muttered something about the alignment before going up towards the state line.
Twenty minutes passed. Suddenly, the glove compartment expanded to four times its size There was a horrible screaming sound from the glove compartment. Ruby's voice. Then another poofing noise before Steven could interfere, and Ruby was back in her gem.
"Ruby, oh, G-" Steven grabbed the barf bag in the pocket behind the seat and vomited.
"She must've been the one Garnet missed the first time" was all Greg said before he gripped harder onto the steering wheel, realized that there was someone in front of him on the beach, swerved to the right.
Steven shuddered, looked out to the waves as they threatened to creep up from the shoreline and nip the edges of their tires. He gripped the bag in his hand. "How close are we to the state line?"
"Almost there. Almost there, Steven, okay? Just hold on. Stay with me, all of you."
Steven made plans in case there were guards blocking the state lines, in case they'd formed a plan far before their family did, which was most likely the case considering the state was the entity that had the ordinance released in the first place. Greg did his best to look disheveled, look like he was lost, disoriented. Steven suggested Greg distort the truth a little, say he was visiting family up north. Greg nodded, and when they approached the touristesque sign indicating where the border was, Greg saw guards out of the corner of his eye, but as the van slipped past the sign, both father and son could feel the guards' eyes training on them.
"We made it. Oh, God."
Five minutes passed by before they saw the sign indicating where Rehoboth began, a town almost identical to Beach City, except entirely with a human population and only ever hearing stories of what was going on. Greg pulled onto the road away from the sand with one huge jolt, and Steven opened the glove compartment.
Spinel came to, clutching her head in near-agony for the slightest of seconds, as soon as Greg sat down on the bar at the back of the van.
She took a look around, almost tasted something wrong in the air. "Where are we? It doesn't look like we're out of Mary's-land or whatever it's called."
Greg didn't move; he'd taken ahold of his own head. Spinel put an arm over his shoulder.
She looked at the open glove compartment and the thousands of dollars worth of gemstones inside, found she couldn't stop.
"You remember?"
Steven felt a shudder as he looked back at her, although it could've been the now nonexistent wind.
"Remember what?"
"When you-"
The both of them were silent for the next half a minute. Greg had now come off the back of the van, causing the whole thing to shift so slightly that you couldn't tell it happened unless you were physically touching the van's floor.
"When I poofed them?" She buried her fingers in her hair, messed it up. The thought occurred to Steven that the first thing Pearl would do when she came back was fix it. "Kinda. It's...foggy. I remember that, but then I remember getting cut in half."
"Yeah." Steven chuckled, scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry."
"It's alright. I was attacking you first, after all. I don't think there's anything anyone could do to say that what I did was alright. Even anything I could do."
She sighed, and Steven knew that sigh more than anything.
"But I do remember."
A tear trailed its way down her cheek. Steven reached out to dry it, halfway out of instinct. Spinel jerked away a little at first, but then sighed and let Steven wipe it away, wipe away the next one. His hand stayed there until both were sure that she was done.
"I do remember."
_