Steven woke up with a small pit growing in his stomach. In just a day he knew the ceremony would finally be here and half his family seemed to be going off the deep end. As far as he knew Amethyst was missing, Pearl was locked in her room for hours, he has no idea how Peridot and Lapis are doing on their project and he had a sneaking suspicion his Dad would not be his chipper self. All because he threw a tantrum at some apparition of his somewhat-dead mother. It took him twenty minutes just to get dressed for a day of who-knows-what.

As he walked downstairs to get breakfast for his twisting stomach, he spotted a welcome sight at the kitchen counter: Amethyst goofing around with her shapeshifting. It seemed she was actually trying to copy the cat fingers trick Steven recently got under control recently.

"Amethyst!" Steven cheered as he ran downstairs. "You finally came back! Where have you been all this time? Did you mess up someone's face to take out your anger?!"

She answered with a shrug and a small grin. "Relax, dude. I just went for a walk."

"It's been two days! We all thought you were off pummeling stuff to cool off. Or at least I was…"

"Hey, I'm not that violent…!" she rebutted. "…Towards people. Outside the ring. And their property. For the most part. Okay, fair enough guess. Nah, I just talked to some friends. Your dad and Vidalia really helped me get my head back on straight."

"I'm really sorry you got so upset. I should have known you wouldn't want to bring all this up again…" was all Steven could get out before Amethyst hugged him back and patted him on the back.

"Dude, it's alright. We all screw up. Trust me, I know. You have always been there to help me through my crud and that's what this is all about. Now that I have my head out from my gem, I see that now. I'm sorry for acting so lame, Steven. You were just being the same lovable nutball you always are. Thanks for never changing that, Steven."

For some time they remained in the kitchen, simply enjoying being on positive terms with each other again and relieving the emotional baggage that came with this whole event. They continued to chat, kid and be scamps as they joked about all the events of the past days though Steven admitted he had a few concerns still on his mind.

"While you were outside, did you see Pearl anywhere? For all I know she's in Ocean Town by now!"

"Nope, sorry. Guess that means she's still working on her eulo-whatever. It must be HUGE by this point," she kid.

"Speaking of which, do you have one Amethyst?"

"No, but I guess I should write one at some point. If you need me, I'll be in my room making sure Pearl didn't try to color-coordinate all my junk again. Oh, and write that speech too." With that Amethyst ran into her room and began randomly shuffling around her monumental collection of rubbish to ensure proper chaos was still in effect.

As it turns out, Pearl was STILL going on about her words to Rose for tomorrow. She spent nearly the entire time (minus her demonstration for Peridot and Lapis) realizing that this was a near-impossible endeavor. Who would have thought cramming millennia and love and dedication into roughly a paragraph in the span of three days could be so difficult? Ever since the Crystal Temps left, she has been locked in her room discarding sheet after sheet of paper all filled with half-finished declarations and undone credos that failed to capture all she felt now that her mentor, her light, her everything was gone.

Now she lay on the central fountain in her room, futilely trying to conjure some collection of words. What should have been a grand release of all the emotion she had bundled within turned into a massive weight that left her exhausted and dejected. She was awoken from her stupor by the sound of someone knocking on her door.

"Pearl, are you in there?" said Steven's muffled voice. "Amethyst said you were in here. Are you okay?"

For the first time in hours Pearl stood up and noticed the cluttered wreck her room had become. Literally hundreds of crumpled up pages littered the floors but she was too lost in her own head to care. Without thinking she opened the door revealing Steven, shocked at the rings that had formed around her eyes despite her kind not needing sleep.

"Oh hello, Steven. Did I hear Amethyst brought you here? She's finally back?"

"Yeah. Pearl, you don't look so good. Have you been in here all day?"

Pearl glanced behind to see it was early morning meaning it had been about 24 hours since her meeting with Peridot and Lapis. She had spent nearly an entire day obsessing over this. Even by her standards that was alarming.

"It appears so," she muttered. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

Her voice was so empty, so listless. If Steven did not know any better he would say Pearl was sick… or depressed.

"Yes, I need you to stop getting obsessed over this."

Pearl chuckled at this. "It makes sense you'd say that. Steven, I just need some more time to get this together. I have until tomorrow to create my eulogy and I will not stray from this." She started to head back into her room.

On an impulse, Steven grabbed her arm and tugged her back into the doorframe. "No Pearl! You need to get your mind off this. Why don't you go outside, it did Amethyst a lot of good!"

"Steven, I appreciate you thinking of me but I really must get back to this speech," she said as she yanked her arm away.

"Come on Pearl!" Steven insisted, "You need to get some fresh air, maybe something out there will inspire you!"

"I spent thousands of years with your mother Steven. I have PLENTY of inspiration to draw from and I just require a few more hours to sort through it."

"Pearl, this isn't healthy! You need to stop getting so wrapped up in this. I know my Mom would think…" Steven stuttered before Pearl, getting more aggravated with every word, finally snapped.

"WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT ROSE QUARTZ?! YOU HAVE THE GALL TO SLANDER HER NAME AFTER EVERYTHING SHE SACRIFICED! DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO USE HER NAME, YOU UNGRATEFUL CHILD!" she screamed at the top of her metaphorical lungs.

Silence reigned in the house. As soon as she finished, Pearl recoiled in horror at her own words. Steven ran towards the door trying not to bawl in front of her and make her anger worse.

"Wait Steven!" Pearl yelled as he tore across the room "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to shout, I just…"

Pearl dashed outside to find where he went, only to find Steven nowhere in sight. Even given his impressive running speed for his stature, there's no way he could have torn across the beach in only seconds. To add to her confusion, there were no footprints in the sand. Feeling completely lost and loathing her own temper, Pearl flopped down onto the coast and cried. For what seemed like eternity she laid on the sand baking in the heat and lamenting how she could have blown up in his face. Over one little confession from days ago. How could she ever make this up to him was the only thought that was restraining her from completely losing herself to incoherent blubbering.

Hours passed as Pearl stewed on the sand only for a familiar voice to rouse her.

"Pearl? Are you trying to get a tan?" asked Connie.

The Gem in question could not bear to move. She lazily moved her eyes to meet the young girl's stare. "No Connie. I'm trying to resist burying myself," she responded bleakly.

"What's got you down? Is it about…"

"Yes this is about the funeral. I blew up at Steven and made him run away crying because I am a pathetic, obsessed soul over Rose and I let my temper get away from me. And for what? A futile attempt to release thousands of years of affection and appreciation on a single sheet of paper."

Connie took a seat next to Pearl and placed her hand on the Gem's pale arm.

"Pearl, it's okay. We all screw up and its common for emotions to run high at funerals. Heck, I kind of wish that was the case at my grandma's funeral a week ago."

"You mean that wasn't the case with you?"

"Not at all. There was maybe a dozen people there. My mom, dad, me and a few of her close friends and coworkers. My grandma was an amazing travel writer years ago. Going off to some foreign country, immersing herself in the culture and getting to report on it for a living was her dream come true. Her husband, my grandfather, he met her when she was traveling to Mumbai for an article. They got married only a year later. Her life couldn't've been better."

Pearl rose into a sitting position, fascinated and confused by Connie's story. "She sounds wonderful. Why wouldn't everyone be crushed someone like that died?"

"It started when she was travelling to Spain and was taking a boat trip with my grandfather for their second honeymoon. They got some rickety old motorboat that was in terrible shape. It stalled in the middle of their trip and the engine wouldn't start. When my grandma tried to inspect it, grandpa started it again and it exploded. They have no idea how but it blew up right in their faces."

"Oh my goodness! How did they survive that?"

"Every doctor and surgeon who looked at them asked the same question. In fact, my mom said that's why she wanted to become a surgeon. That way she could save people's lives. That aside, they both survived but grandma was stuck in a wheelchair. Her legs were pretty much obliterated from the accident and she could never walk again which made travelling nearly impossible at the time."

"Oh my, that does sound terrible. I can't imagine what I would have done if I was put out of commission during the rebellion."

"My Mom used to tell me how she was such an inviting, joyful person before it all happened. She was the youngest of the bunch, two sister and two brothers. I only met her once. She came to my first violin recital when I was six. After I was done, Mom and Dad gushed about how great I was and then brought grandma over to meet me. She then proceeded to pick apart everything wrong with my performance for what felt like forever until Mom and she got into an argument and Dad took me into the car to get me to stop crying. It was one of the worst days of my life."

"My word! How could someone talk to a member of their own family like that? Unless that's typical of human grandparents…" Pearl added nervously.

"Hardly. If I thought Mom could be controlling and judgmental, grandma was even worse. The only reason I was sad over this whole ordeal was that seeing Mom so upset and stressed. None of my uncles or aunts even showed up! My grandfather, who left her years ago by the way, called just to make sure Mom was okay. He didn't show up either. She had to plan the entire ceremony herself and even then she had second thoughts about it. Like I said, the only other people who came were friends of hers before the accident and a couple of fans of her writing. Needless to say, they were all surprised to hear their celebrated writer was a bitter old lady who died angry and alone. Mom was the only one who wrote a eulogy."

Connie's mind flashed back to the somber affair. Instead of hushed whispers and the sharing of grief that were common at these events, everyone was treating as an informal get-together where everyone decided to wear black dress clothes. Priyanka, Connie's mother, had not slept properly in days and was beyond ready to simply be done with the whole ordeal. She was the only one who purchased flowers for the departed Prisha Mahesweran - a small arrangement of black hellebores. The coffin was a crude oak box that looked a shipping crate sanded and poorly dressed up out of necessity than love. The small party eventually sat down and began the ceremony. Since her mother had pretty much abandoned religion (though she did have a nasty habit of cursing the heavens every night), Priyanka had to conduct the ceremony herself instead of getting a proper priest of any description.

"First of all, I would like to thank everyone for coming to… celebrate," she struggled, "The life of my mother who, as we all know, taken from us at the age of seventy-four due to a heart complication. I understand my mother was an… outspoken individual. She was never afraid to admit what was on her mind…"

It was clear to everyone, especially her husband Doug that she was holding back severe pain. He could tell it was not from the feeling of losing a beloved parent, but from biting her tongue on every word otherwise this requiem would become a roast.

"I see we have a handful of her past acquaintances from her days as a travel writer," she looked to the few seniors who knew Prisha before the accident. "And even a few inspired individuals who were fans of her early work." She glanced at the younger attendants of the procession - a group of aspiring journalists from a nearby university who heard their favorite author, who had long been professionally retired and personally reclusive, had passed away. It is a shame they learned what had become of her later in life.

"I have a few select words to say about her," she said to the audience, "Especially since none of her real family showed up…" she muttered under her breath as she pulled out a pristine sheet of paper with her final sendoff painstakingly written in pen.

"Mother, for years I wondered how I could fix that terrible accident. I thought if I was the perfect daughter: never getting in trouble, excelling in my activities, acing every class, selecting only the most responsible of friends, I could make you smile. I ended up overachieving in school, had the bare basics of a social life and constantly felt inadequate. Perhaps if I became a surgeon myself, I could discover some miraculous treatment that could allow you to walk. All I got after my degree was complaints how I never visited you. Maybe if I found a wonderful husband and had wonderful grandchildren, you would feel respected and accomplished. I eventually received an ignored wedding invitation and my only daughter in hysterics on what should have been the happiest day of her life. From the day you made Connie cry, I gave up. I realized there was no reclaiming the warm, driven, marvelous woman you were in your prime. Because you blamed everything and everyone around you for a chance accident. My older brothers and sisters told me stories how you were their shoulder to cry on, their guide to an enormous, welcoming world, their angel who would love them no matter how they acted. Since I was four when that accident happened, all I have are those stories. I have a childhood filled with one parent constantly berating me, bearing down on me for the slightest faults and never cracking a smile while the other did everything in his power to support and love me. I could hear you two always debating the tritest of concerns. I could never picture you, the one who is supposed to nurture me into the ideal version of myself, doing anything but spiting everyone and everything around you. And above all else I have one thought: Prisha Mahesweran, the woman who illuminated every room she walked in, who drew in countless friends with her charm, and inspired people by the hundreds with her incredible gift, was dead long before this week. The woman who raised me was a shrill, malignant, inhospitable, unfeeling shell. You went straight from being in love with the world to hating it and everyone on it because YOU received a rotten hand in life. And yet I still miss you. The you I dreamed of meeting for so long. And one day when I join you, I hope to finally meet that long-deceased you. Please still be in there somewhere. Please come back to me."

Pearl's mouth was agape. She clung to every beautiful word and tried not to shake from the sheer emotion Connie was relaying. The young Mahesweran continued from her own point of view.

"After that, it was all pretty unforgettable. But at least she finally got all that out of her system."

"So what happened after that?" Pearl asked.

"Well after we put her coffin in the ground there was a wake, a sort of party where everyone cheers up and remembers the good times. Being my grandmother, she was hardly brought up at all. Oh, I forgot to tell Steven that last part! If you see him again, be sure to let him know." Connie got up and offered Pearl a hand.

The Gem took the offer and stood for the first time in hours. "I'll be sure to do that. I'm very sorry it was all so taxing for you."

"Don't be, it's all over now. Well, I'm going to find Steven. Want to help?"

"Not quite. I'm sure he can find his own way home. My guess is he took Lion somewhere and he can just warp back. I'm going to take his advice and spend the day outside."

"Okay then. See you later!" Connie waved goodbye and ran back down the beach to where her parents were waiting. True to her word, Pearl spent the rest of the day enjoying the natural beauty of Earth and the simple pleasures that her life provided. The fresh air, the calming waves and even people watching for a time. Simply watching the men and women of Beach City go about their day and seeing how all of them were capable of making their own decisions, each one somehow different from the other. During her excursion, she made sure to stop by Greg's carwash that afternoon for something she needed for tomorrow.

"Hey Pearl," Greg waved as he noticed the slender Gem approaching "If you're looking for Steven, he left a while ago."

"Thank you Greg, but I actually have a question for you."

"Really? What's that?"

"Do you still have that suit you got me in Empire City?"