A/N (07/04): Hello guys. Here I go again when another fan fiction for you. Right now, I am slowly drawing myself into a hangover, after 2 days straight drinking and barely any sleep. Honestly, I do enjoy writing these from time to time and this one is from request from a friend on Wattpad, so I hope you enjoy and maybe someone out there forgives me for the things I have done to a close friend of mine. This story is told mainly from Steven's perspective but I'm doing third person for the first bit and see how it goes. I don't know if I'm going to make this more than a chapter or 2, heck it might go to 3 but don't expect too much out of it that being said I like to think my followers, my readers, and the silent majority of the people are tuned into my fanfiction, so without further ado let me tell my tale. The tale of how a child of light can carry a dark shadow. Oh yeah, Happy Independence Day. I'm happy to follow in the footsteps of great people who fought for my chance at a free life.

Withered Roses

It started like any other day for Steven Universe. He woke up, laid in bed for five minutes to get the energy to start the day, used the bathroom and performed his hygiene (or as he liked to call it; "Shit, Shower, and Shave.") He stepped out of the latrine while drying out his mane and went into the closet for his go-to outfit, blue jeans, pink sandals, and that old black shirt his father left him a few years ago. Although he didn't want to ruin the design of it, because of sentimental value, but he thought changing the yellow star with a pink one was a nice way of making it he's new signature design, while honoring his music legacy. Steven stood in front of his mirror once more before giving off a satisfied grin. It, however, fell when he pondered on what today had instore for him. See, today was a special day for the young adult, for it was the day he was going to finally reconnect with his mother, Rose Quartz. However, to a good majority of the city, she is known as Pink Diamond.

For as long as he could remember, he never really saw a lot of his mother growing up. Well, in person that is, there was always the occasional poster that hung on buildings and signs. In his early years, Steven grew up with only his father as the only parent in his life, and he never really questioned it. Why would he? He grew up home-schooled and thought of his father to be an awesome guy. He could play guitar, owned a small business (it was a Car Wash, but still), and gave great life advice, even for a very laid back person. That however didn't stop him from wondering. Asking about the lady in that big painting that hung over the front door. Who was Rose? Why did she have pink hair? Why was it that Greg sometimes cried over her whenever he thought his son was asleep? Father didn't really talk about his mother all that much. He didn't think it was the right time, after all he is just a boy. However, said boy finally got his answer when he was 10, unfortunately it wasn't on the best of circumstances. A few months after Christmas, Greg suffered a heart attack. It was a surprise to Steven, and everyone involved with the 28-year-old man. Some say it was work related, other say it was his diet of pork chops and beef franks. If you were to ask Steven now, it was a broken heart. As Mr. Universe laid on his deathbed, he asked for his son. His father reached out and held his son's hand. He told him that he was proud to have a son like him, that he would never change a thing about how his life went. He asked that he be nice to the people around him, mind the ones that are for but also against his better interest. Finally, as his eyes slowly began to drupe for one last time, he asked that he don't hate his mother for not being here and there. Even in death's embrace, Greg still held a smile. That was the final nail in the coffin, and at that moment, Steven broke down over his father's cold, lifeless, hand. He barely understood what was going on, but it didn't buffer the blow. Steven kissed and covered his father's head in tears. Maybe he thought, if he saw the pain and love he had felt, it would've willed just a few extra moments of life in him. But, no, Greg laid lifeless on the bed, leaving only his son to grieve…

The funeral was like any other. Simple church. Simple priest. Simple town with simple folk. Simply, it was a simple burial for a simple man, but to Steven, he was extraordinary. A man who was engrossed in wealth yet chose to lead a life of casual living. Maybe that's why after the service, only Steven stayed to watch his father get put into the ground. It was kinda funny, Steven never fully believed that Greg was dead until this moment. He expected his father to rise out of the casket like a zombie, and prank the city into a panic, only he wasn't in on the joke. Or maybe that was just hope. Hope doesn't have to be realistic, just imaginatively possible. But, unfortunately, Reality tends to have strict rules when it comes to life, especially when it must end. After saying some words of appreciation to the grave, he began to take his leave, the pitter-patter of the rain masking his tears. When he approached the entrance; he was stopped by a black cab. It struck him as a surprise, but it was the first in many blows. A man in a fancy black suit got out of the driver seat, walked behind the car, and opened the rear passenger-side door in front of Steven, and from there, out came a tall woman in a white dress. She had black umbrella covering her head, as if she wants to hide it for whatever reason. She slowly walked toward him, the tick-tock of her heels sounding at a crawl. She stood as over him. He noted that she was very pretty and smelled of flowers. His eyes noticed a tuft of light pink hair.

"My, how you've grown, Steven." She said softly.

At that moment he suddenly knew who this was, and for the second time today he was crying. She cradled her child in a tear driven embrace. She missed her baby and it was clear that it was far too long since they had seen each other.

...

'Why must resolutions come from impactful climaxes?' Steven sighed as he grabbed his keys. It was an hour drive to the airport. After wiping away a stray tear, he left, taking care to lock his door. He jumped in his burgundy Cadillac and started the trip to Rose.

Tags will change as story progresses. Please leave a comment. -NNW(EcriteExpert)