Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"Whatever she's paying you, it's not worth it."

Connie frowned, drifted on the last edges of sleep. She'd been fighting consciousness for some time now, tucked in one of those continuous dreams that incorporate any interruption from the waking world into its own strange storyline. Many hushed voices had become the whispering of wind, but there was something about this voice...a nearness, a tactile quality. And a tension that had the woman's well-trained battle instincts firing up.

Firing up too late. Behind closed eyelids, a bright flash of light became the reddened spark of a fire, and Connie awoke.

To a phone pointed at her face.

On instinct, Connie's right hand had gone to her left hip, but instead of meeting the hardness of a sword's grip, she punched soft flesh.

"Oof! Hey!" Steven protested, pushing Connie's offending hand aside to rub his distressed tummy. "Don't punish me! I tried to stop them."

"Stop them?" Connie repeated, squinting at the two green gems before her, who had already lost interest in the tableau of the human woman and their diamond. Having spent so many years with Pearl, a gem who had allowed herself to adopt such human habits as "cell phone ownership," it took Connie some moments to even realize how strange it was that the gems were using such an archaic human device.

And, when she did process the oddity, it was more due to the familiarity of the device itself. "Why do you have Sadie's ph—"

Connie stopped mid-sentence.

" No, " she hissed.

"Ye-eeeees!" rang out from the phone. Sadie's face beamed through a video call. "Beautiful, you two; I told you the left was her good side." She looked away from the camera for a moment, clicking at a keyboard, punching down on a final key with a sort of triumph. "And you are all set with tickets to TrekCon. A pleasure doing business with you."

The peridots Sol and Swift cheered and exchanged giddy high-fives. "To boldly go where no gem has gone before!"

" YOU! " Connie snarled, leaping to her feet and rushing at the kindergarteners.

Joy forgotten in the face of a force more powerful and destructive than their own diamond, the peridots screeched and flung their arms about one-another, braced for the sweet embrace of death.

Connie snatched the phone from Swift's hand and continued lashing out at the smug face of her secretary. "Blackmail? More blackmail? "

"Mmhmm!" Sadie chirped. She bounced in her office chair, entirely too perky for the early hour. For any hour, really. "You need to see this picture, Connie; you two are so cute." She sighed. "Really, it's tempting to send it out without even bothering about demands. It really deserves to be seen."

"Look," Connie hissed, dragging a hand through her short hair, which stuck out in every conceivable direction after a night of sleep, "Sadie, I know you enjoy your little games , but I think you have an overinflated notion of how much interest the local news has in me. Me sleeping with—" Connie paused. " Next to someone isn't a big thing!"

"The news?" Sadie laughed. "Oh, yeah. You've given them way more shocking stories than this. No, I got this for your mother."

In the eighteen years since Steven had left the planet, cell phone hardware had advanced enough that shattered screens were a problem of the past. In Connie's spasmodically clenching hand, however, it nearly became a problem of Sadie's present.

"You wouldn't ," Connie hissed. "You...you can't keep doing this! "

"I mean, probably not," Sadie agreed, shrugging. "You two keep cavorting like this and I'm sure she'll work it out on her own."

"We were not— "

"Tagliani's is delivering a proper meal to your office in an hour, Madame Mayor," Sadie breezed, clicking away at her keyboard once more. "Eat it all, will you? I'm not having you pass out halfway through Beach-a-Palooza because you were 'too busy' to eat." Sadie held her hands up to quote at the air, her eyes rolling magnificently. "And I'd advise you hurry back. Get a shower and some fresh clothes, before the delivery person arrives, so they don't see you looking like you had a wild time with the aliens last night."

Connie was ready to snap a threat back, but it was far too late. Sadie had flicked her hand at the camera, the gesture ending the call, the phone's screen flashing back to the most recent app: recent photos, where Beach City's mayor and Earth's diamond snuggled up under a lovely pastel sparkle filter.

" I hate you! " Connie screeched at the innocent cell phone. It did little to make her feel better.

Steven looked on and chuckled. There was something very satisfying about watching Connie be outmaneuvered. She had spent quite a lot of the time since he'd returned guiding events, or adapting instantaneously to his own machinations, forcing him to flounder through almost every interaction. Stars, even the kiss was more her idea than—

...the kiss.

Steven's hand drifted to his lips. It had been hours, but he swore there was a tingle there, still. A faint taste.

"Shit," Connie muttered, pocketing the phone. "Steven, can I call in that rain check on Lion jumping me home? Maybe the news doesn't care, but it really wouldn't look great if I had to do the UFO Walk of Shame."

Steven, addled, looked at Connie and murmured "What are we?"

Connie frowned. "Huh?"

"Nothing," Steven replied on pure instinct. It took him some moments to sync up with the actual conversation. "Oh, right. Yeah. Lion, jump, good idea. I'll ask Jasper to find him."

"Jasper?" Connie repeated, but her puzzlement suddenly faded. Wincing, the mayor leaned against the opaque wall—which had before been the transparent window looking out upon space, but which had filled in for privacy upon landing.

"Ah ah ah, dead leg, dead leg!" Connie whined, thumping the ball of a fist on her right leg. "Wake up!" Steven had done his best to keep the woman comfortable throughout the flight back—and he was a supremely comfortable companion to snuggle up against, with his liberal padding—but it seemed there was no escaping the consequences of sleeping sitting up. 

"She's a lot better at finding him than I am," Steven explained, rising to stand beside Connie, holding out an arm to offer stability. "It won't take her long." And, if it didn't take long, and Connie had the time....

"Uh, hey," Steven ventured, the back of his neck burning. "W-would you like to...to, uh...um...." The back of his neck burned, all the way up to his ears. Come back to my room? He thought. The words weren't complicated, but stars, he couldn't force them out. Please come back to my room, he thought again, willing his lips and tongue to comply.

Then, in a burst of inspiration, Steven realized, even if he couldn't speak, he could still communicate with lips and tongue! 

Leaning over, Steven closed in on Connie, heart pounding, every overwrought line from every romance novel he'd ever read flashing through his mind.

Connie took a large, crashing step forward onto her numb leg, staggering off just out of Steven's reach. "Yee!" she keened at the fading buzz in her bones. "Sssss...yeah, go ahead and have Jasper find him; I've got a thousand things to do if I'm going to feel ready for tonight. I really don’t have time to mess around."

Steven paused in his thwarted approach, not quite understanding where his intended had gone. He'd only just managed to recover and stand up straight, like a semi-normal person, rather than a total goober, when Connie turned back to him, awaiting confirmation of her leonine rideshare.

"Uh...you got it!" Steven shot Connie a double thumbs-up, and instantly wanted to smack himself in the face. Why not just add some finger guns while he was at it!?

He had to get away. There was no recovery from being himself. So, without even a wave or a "see you later," Steven fled the room, in quest of either quartz or feline.

He left so fast, Steven didn't even notice Connie appreciatively watching him go. Nor the hand that rose to touch her lips. She couldn't suppress a little smile. And, once she was sure Steven was well away, down the halls, Connie Maheshwaran couldn't stop herself from bouncing in joy.

Steven was fairly confident he knew where to find Jasper; if her Diamond was so lately kept from ship duties by a snoozing politician, it was Jasper's duty as his second to take the helm. Thus, he was in no way surprised to find her on the bridge, in her outsized chair, conferring with Elder.

Steven was a bit more surprised, though pleased, to find Lion at Jasper's left, laying on his back in Steven's own chair, doing his best to appear like he was perfectly comfortable, despite the armrest digging into his spine.

"Oh, Lion!" Steven said, pausing in the doorway. "I thought you'd still be out terrorizing birds."

Jasper looked away from the tablet she had been studying with Elder, and grunted. "He took a break to bring his spoils home," she growled, holding up a still-wiggling lizard's tail.

"Aw!" Steven beamed. "He brought you a gift!"

"He shouldn't have," Jasper drawled. "Especially when it gives Spinel a panic attack."

Steven shifted his attention to the nav-and-coms station, when the dark-blue gem sat, head on her desk, face hidden in the cradle of her arms. Her shoulders trembled. Beside her, Pyrope watched, red eyes wide, a hand held half outstretched towards her crewmate.

"Oh," Steven said. "Oh, no, Spinel, it's fine. Lizards can detach their tails to get out of danger. It escaped!"

"Really?" Spinel mewled, lifting her head (Pyrope slapped her hand back down on her workstation, sending a random array of characters across the screen). A string of snot stretched from the gem's nose down to her desk. It glistened prettily.

Sprawled on the command chair, Lion groaned. And burped.

"Oh yeah," Steven lied.

He made a mental note to never tell Spinel what was on yesterday's pizza.

"Lion," he said, walking across the room, stooping beside the command chair so he could give Lion a good scratch behind the ears, "would you go gave Connie a jump home, please? I'll buy you a dozen deep-fried Lion Lickers tonight."

Looking down his muzzle at Steven, Lion blinked slowly. Stretching out, he brushed a whiskery kiss to Steven's nose.

"Haha!" Steven rubbed at his tingling face. "Thanks, bud," he said as the big cat flopped out of the chair and ambled out into the hall.

"I'd say you were going to run out of cash," Jasper said, rolling her eyes, "but I don't think even Laz could run through an entire asteroid of gold."

"Don't test me," Laz chimed from where she worked on one of the wall screens.

"No intentions," Steven shot back. "But, good reminder, Jasper. Chalcedony, we need some funds for tonight, and I don't think the ticket booths can convert from gold. Could you hit up some pawn shops and cash in?"

"Oh, sure," Chalcedony said. "Take the skipper?"

"Definitely. Be careful parking, though. I have no idea how we'd get a flying car out of impound."

Chalcedony shrugged. "I mean, fly it, probably?"

"Hah." Steven laughed hollowly. "Lets not have an intergalactic incident. How about you just don't park illegally?"

Saluting in agreement, Chalcedony left to go about her important pawn-store business.

"It sounds like this lot will be attending tonight's festivities, then?" Moss Agate asked. She stood with crossed arms, trying to appear stern, but her eyes glinted. Showing off her quartzes was one of an agate's greatest joys.

"Yes," Steven confirmed, inspiring cheers from all around the bridge. Holding his hands out, he waved the clamor down. "But we've got to follow some ground rules, so listen up!"

Dutifully, the bridge settled. Those who could easily dismiss their work did, over a dozen screens flickering out of view.

"First thing: I'm really sorry, but for the sake of our hosts, no fusing at Beach-a-Palooza."

The cry of outrage was immediate. An amethyst reached out to steady her wobbling agate.

"That's at the party ," Steven called out above the din. "You can arrive already fused if your fusion is shorter than me and you can mostly pass as human. We are guests tonight, and guests don't scare off the customers! I know, I know, some of you will have a hard time fathoming going four whole hours without fusing—"

There was laughter from all about, and a few murmurs from the crew. Mossy responded to the accusation with an indignant sniff, which might have actually been an effort to hold back tears.

"But," Steven continued, "I'm sure you all can plan ahead or abstain, for the sake of the humans. Remember, they can be rather delicate."

Moaning, grumbling, but general calls of assent and "Yes, My Diamond."

"And, similarly, if anyone wants to fight or show off weapons or such, please do so by the Temple, not near the boardwalk."

"So just don't scare the humans?" Laz supplied.

"Exactly! And if anyone here hasn't watched the video I made on how money works, today is the day! There's plenty of food and games and cool stuff to buy, but the important word is 'buy.' I really don't want to have to hire a lawyer to get you off on shoplifting charges."

"What's shoplifting?" A jasper inquired of an amethyst, who shrugged in return.

"Watch. The. Video." Steven said in his most commanding, but unpowered voice.

"Yes, My Diamond," came back in chorus.

"And one last thing. Hush." Steven turned to the peridot workstation, addressing their youngest member.

Hush hunched down, trying to disappear amidst her fellow kindergarteners. She said nothing. Peridots, generally, could be said to be prone to dramatics, but Hush's energy had always fallen more inwards, becoming a silent anxiety.

"That was excellent work," Steven said, beaming upon the gem. "If you hadn't noticed the anomalies, we wouldn't have made it to Green Star Sapphire for another hour, at least, and she'd have been alone when she emerged."

"I—um—I—nothing...." Hush trailed off, looking down at her tangling tendril fingers.

Steven was about to reassure her that of course it was something, but was preempted by a voice which was nearly as gentle as Hush's, but which carried through the bridge far better. A voice that was still unfamiliar, but comforting to the diamond, just like all his other gems.

"Thank you," Green Star said. She sat with some of the quartz geode, and wasn't looking in quite the right direction for her address. She had a tight grip on one of the amethyst's wrists, anchoring her through lifelong darkness. It seemed the interference of Garnet's own sight had taken effect. "I'm glad I wasn't alone. That would have been...terrifying."

"Oh. Uh. Welcome," Hush managed, looking as if she wished to return to the boulder from whence she came.

"Could I possibly go to this 'Beach-a-Palooza' with you?" Green star went on, surprising quite a lot of the bridge. The rubies especially. But not, Steven noted, the quartzes that had taken the new gem in, who grinned as they looked between the two little gems. "It's only that, with another sapphire nearby, I only know if there are gems very close to me, and I understand that there will be many organic lifeforms there which I would not be able to sense, regardless. And I have been told by many on the crew that you are a very... calm companion."

That was a rather...generous description, Steven thought. He'd always considered Hush to be subdued, even reticent, not merely 'calm.' But, compared to the rubies, who were, to a one, glaring at Hush, the metal below their feet glowing red, 'calm' was surely a compliment.

Hush stuttered some more, before replying with a querulous "S-sure."

"I thank you again," Green Star said, dropping a brief curtsy to the peridot.

The rubies gasped at this servility from a sapphire. Steven made a mental note to talk to his adopted gems about...stars, about equality and courtesy and not being super overbearing and creepy. Again.

But later. He needed a break just as much as everyone else. "Alright, now that that is settled, I need everyone to wrap up your duties and automate everything you can. We're taking a weekend off."

The cheers from the crew drowned out Army's confused "What's a weekend?"

He'd get into that later. He'd do a lot later. For now, Steven was just ready to rest....

"Steven," Elder said, coming up to the man, flipping through her projected workscreen, "I'd really like to go over the results of the Prime and Beta survey before clocking out. It shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes, and I could get it out of my head before this party. Otherwise, it will be bouncing around in there nonstop."

The urge to whine was incredible. He resisted. "Yeah," Steven acquiesced. "Fine, let me just take a look—"

"Also," Jasper broke in, making Steven groan. She was grinning. She knew what she was doing. And it made her very, very happy. "Coral needs to fit your clothes for the night."

Steven took a deep breath. "Anyone else?"

Sheepishly, Spinel raised a hand.

"Oh no," Steven whimpered. "Which one?"

"Blue Diamond, My Diamond."

"Love it," Steven lied. "Elder, if you'll come with me, we can go over the survey while I'm being fitted. Spinel, message Blue's pearl, say I'll call when...when I'm emotionally prepared."

Spinel reeled. "M-My Diamond!?" She looked to her workstation, imagining having to relay that message.

"An hour," Steven corrected. "I'll call in about an hour. Elder, shall we?"

"Don't fidget, My Diamond," Coral ordered. "These needles are sharp."

Steven knew that all too well. More than a few of Coral's early designs had small, unplanned bits of embroidery to hide spots of blood. It had taken some hours to calm her down, the first time it happened. Jasper had been no help in the matter, well into a rage at the pearl that dared to harm her diamond. Hypocritical, given the bruises and cuts Jasper herself had caused during their sparring sessions.

By now, Steven had learned to keep statue-still while Coral did her work. Luckily, this fitting seemed just to be for slacks, so Steven looked over the tablet which Elder had handed over.

"It's a bit had to make accurate projections, as this is the first gem colony which has been left alone for any significant period of time, but I think these readings show great promise." Elder expanded her own projected screen, highlighting a few numbers. Those numbers flew to the side as a three-dimensional map of the Prime Kindergarten displayed.

"This is the area of effect around Prime at the end of the Rebellion. 7,325 square kilometers of neutralised space, with another 1,245 square kilometers of a desertified perimeter. Beta," and she brought up another map alongside Prime, "produced only half of what Prime did, but it was already located within a sizeable desert. Its neutralized Zone was 28,343 square kilometers, and we were unable to distinguish what area beyond that was natural desert and what may have been caused by the injectors."

Steven hissed at the numbers. He knew the damage caused by Pink Diamond's Colony had been extensive—enough for the human inhabitants of the region to attempt to drive gem kind out, sparking the fist salvos of the war for Earth—but hard numbers were always so...undeniable. And, yet, at the same time, unfathomable. "We really did a number on this planet...."

"Actually, all things considered, the effect is almost negligible," Elder corrected. "Pink Diamond's colonization efforts went quite slowly, as one might expect from someone undertaking such a large campaign as their first project. Even including all the smaller kindergartens and experimental injections across the planet, less than a thousandth of one percent of the planet's surface was affected." Elder considered the maps, thin fingers tapping at her hips in a sinuous wave. "Compared to Yellow's colonies, Pink's work campaign absolutely glacial. Yellow would have been over a third done with the planet's colonization by the time the Rebellion began. The humans probably would have been wiped out before a full generation had passed."

Steven shuddered. He'd seen Yellow's efficiency at work on new colonies. If he hadn't been the one to fight back against the Diamonds, the one to sing out and thus reclaim this planet, everything outside his ship would now be dead rock and gem machines. "Then let's be glad Pink was so slow. And even then, she did the damage. What do things look like, now?"

"Well, I didn't bother bringing up maps of the small test sites," Elder said, grinning, "because every sign of them is gone." Little green-toned images of jungles, fields, and even a city flashed through the display. "In fact, I only came across one injector, down in the antarctic ice. All the others seem to have been scavenged for parts by nearby human populations. And even the antarctic one has been repurposed!"

A video popped up of a vast, plainlandscape. Though the video was tinged green, the brightness of the ground—and, of course, Elders' description—made it obvious that the majority of the view was bright white snow. In the middle of the screne was a half-buried, broken injector, bulbous top cracked open and nesting atop a jagged boulder, the other end disappearing into a snowdrift.

Little creatures waddled up to boulder in a disorderly mass, bumping into one-another, knocking more than a few back down to the had-packed snow below. There was a traffic-jam up top, which seemed less due to the carrying capacity of the path, and more from the nerves of those penguins who had reached the top.

Suddenly, one of the penguins overcame its fear and lunged belly-down into the top of the injector, disappearing within.

Seconds later, there was a puff of powder from the drifts and the penguin reappeared from within the hollow injector, flapping its stubby wings and shaking its head to dislodge a dusting of snow.

"Oh em gee," Steven cooed, "that's so cute! "

"So cute," Elder agreed.

From her spot pinning the hem of one pant leg, Coral tsked. "Tender-heart," she muttered.

"But Coral, look at them!" Steven whined, gesturing at the video.

Coral complied in time to see a gray, down-covered chick approach the injector and tumble over sideways into the tube, appearing on the other end with its entire body turned white with snow.

Coral rolled her eyes and got back to pinning. "Organics," she muttered, manifesting a dozen pins between her lips.

"Okay, back to the data," Elder said, waving to dismiss the video, ignoring her Diamond's disappointed cry. "As for the two main kindergartens, the damage has also been reduced there. At Prime, the desertified perimeter is only about a kilometer thick all around, which is a huge reclamation. Within the neutralized zone, though, there's only been about a five-hundred square kilometer reduction in damage.

"Beta is somewhat harder to judge. There's still a completely neutralised twenty-thousand square kilometer zone, but natural desert habitat has encroached significantly on the perimeters." Elder's display of Beta switched to a topographical map. "The recovery seems to have developed along the canyons, where the land is more protected from the sun. Beta was built upon a rise in the land, which must have once been a small mountain, in a region of at least moderate rainfall, before a climate change about two-point-five million years ago. You can actually trace the path of the old mountain streams and compare them just about exactly to the recovery zone."

"That's fantastic!" Steven said, nodding at newly-projected images of reptiles, birds, and the occasional small mammal. "I mean, it sounds like there's still centuries to go, but I guess we are working on a more geologic scale."

"Really more like millennia," Elder said. "We could try to speed things up with cloud-seeding and strategic planting, but we're really only looking at a five-to-ten percent reduction in the area's recovery time. And who knows what biomes we might be preempting by interfering."

"Hmm, true." Steven said. "I'd want us to work alongside the local land management groups if we do anything, but that can wait at least a few years, while we develop a good plan."

"My thoughts exactly!" Elder's gem glowed with her pleasure. "But, speaking of plans and land development, there is one area I think we should address immediately ."

A new, familiar location flashed into view.

Steven leaned back in surprise. This was, most definitely, not one of the old kindergartens.

"My Diamond!" Coral hissed, elbowing his upper thigh. The cold, razor-sharp tip of a needle grazed Steven's skin.

He froze, resisting the urge to step away. "Shards, Coral, are you sure you don't want to go to medical school down here? You're made for surgery."

Coral snorted. "Work on organics? That's beneath me."

Steven rolled his eyes and decided not to remind the pearl that her diamond was half-organic.

He returned his attention to the verdant display. Even without Elder's ever-green overlay, the view would have been largely the same, but for the red berries spread across the landscape. "The battlefield? What's going on there? Is the energy from the shattered gems causing some sort of problem?"

"Not that I can detect, no," Elder answered. "This is about an outside influence. I did a survey of legislative proposals, land sales, and what-have-you for anything within twenty miles of any major gem sites. Even if we're only studying things, gems running around would be bound to attract attention." She crossed her arms and studied the map. "The majority of the sites are on government-owned land, in restricted areas, so they're left well-enough alone. The battlefield was among those, up until three months ago, when it was re-zoned from 'restricted' to 'commercial.'"

"Oh no," Steven hissed. This would not be well-received by the veterans. The life-force of the thousands of shattered gems from Earth's last battle had seeped into the very soil, manifesting the ghosts of their sisters as thriving organic life. It wasn't just a battlefield; it was a monument. "Do we know what the plans are?" If it was something simple—say hiking trails or an archaeological museum devoted to all those gem weapons—the soldiers might be able to overcome their horror.

Elder pulled up more documents. "The winning bid seems to be for a hotel and a rope-course." She looked to her diamond, shrugging. "For 'corporate team-building retreats,' whatever those are."

Steven winced. "Nothing good." And not something he could let happen, even to the energy of old gems. This would take some consideration. There was no way he could build up the funds to buy that land just from Chalcedony hawking nuggets of gold. They would have to drop an entire boulder of precious metal in a bank somewhere, and what that would do to the world economy, he had no idea.

"The developer plans to break ground in spring," Elder went on, "so we don't have much time to take advantage of the overflow of life-force in the area. I've highlighted four locations," and she brought up a new topographical map, with the aforementioned targets marked out with yellow dots, "with quite intriguing properties for gem development. I'm particularly excited about this one," and Elder made one of the dots flash red. "If we're careful, and get to work before this 'corporate retreat' breaks ground, I think we can produce three beryls, and, if my latest theory is correct, this spot has a fifteen-percent chance of producing an emerald!" Overcome with the possibilities of her proposal, Elder clapped her hands together, preening.

In the wake of Elder's excitement, there was silence.

Coral looked up at the map, then to her quiet diamond. The pins between her lips flowed to liquid light, retreating into her gem. The pearl took several steps away from Steven, stopping behind the kitchen island, crouching almost out of view.

"You want," Steven hissed, turning to loom over Elder, "to inject gems on Earth?"

Elder froze. Her eyes went wide. "Just there! And it's only because of the energy overflow. If things remain as they are, the human's development would—"

"I will address that," Steven snapped. "But you ." He ground his teeth. "I can understand your wanting to inject on early-development planets. Understand, but not approve . But this?" Steven pointed at the display map, just seconds before it fizzled out of sight as Elder hid her ideas from her diamond. "All of that is alive, Elder!"

"And the humans are going to tear it out!" Elder protested. "I mean, if anything, using the energy there to create gems will be a favor to the humans! If left unchecked, the plants will regrow over anything they build in six, eight months, at most! My proposal wouldn't neutralize the area, like the kindergartens; we'd just be bringing it in line with the available energy readings of nearby biomes!"

"We are not desecrating a GRAVEYARD!" Steven yelled, bringing his fist down on the island countertop. Bowls of fruit and a frying pan clattered at the impact.

A crack rang through the air.

The sound brought bile up Steven's throat. His stomach dropped out. He looked down at his fist.

A line snaked across the marble countertop, following the almost organic pattern of the stone. There was a brief silence. Then a grinding as the last bits of stone lost cohesion and the corner of the countertop fell to the floor, crumbling to pebbles.

On the other side of the island, Coral gasped, stepping away until her back pressed against the cabinetry. Her hands cupped over her smooth gem. The pearl stared at her diamond, trembling.

Steven didn't need a mirror. He could feel the power in his limbs, his gem, his diamond-shaped irises. Several deep breaths did nothing to bring the surge back down.

He turned to Elder, and spoke us calmly as he could manage. And still there was a deep growl in his words. "We do not get to make that decision, Elder. My mother fought a war so we wouldn't make those kinds of decisions for Earth."

Elder looked into Steven's bright eyes. She swallowed, ducking her head, gaze averting. "Yes, My Diamond."

"Coral?" Steven queried.

"Y-yes, My Diamond?" Coral quavered.

Steven winced. Stars and shards, he hated himself. "How much more fitting time do you need?"

"I...." A deep breath. "I was fairly done."

"Thank you," Steven said, acknowledging the little lie. He didn't blame Coral for wanting to rid herself of a raging diamond. "If you'll excuse me," he said, "I've got to make a call."

The dark clouds that had hung over the Galaxy Warp had dispersed since Steven's arrival home, leaving just a normal layer of early-morning fog, which was already dispersing. He would rather it stayed. Not being able to see Blue Diamond, or be seen by her, felt preferable, at the moment.

How long could he put off the call? Technically, he'd told Blue it would be within an hour, but what sort of grasp on time did the diamond have, currently? Gems almost didn't bother keeping track of time, focusing more on events within their civilization, and not the placement of those happenings in the eons. He'd studied the history of the Diamond Authority under Blue, and there were entire centuries omitted. Not to hide anything—because who was there to question the flawless Diamond Authority?—but because the diamonds didn't think anything important had occurred.

So Blue probably wouldn't notice if two or three hours passed before her student called. Stars, he could probably extend it to a couple days without upsetting Blue unduly.

But Steven knew well enough from childhood, it was best to just rip the band-aid off.

Steven sat on the steps leading to the central warp pad, the still-shattered link to the rest of the galaxy. He drew a small octahedron from his pocket and, before he could let himself vacillate into a bracing countdown or other delays, he turned the activating facet to the blue side and let the communicator float out of his hands.

The expanding screen displayed the expected sight of a short blue pearl—particularly elegant and neutral in expression—but before she could answer the call, an excited voice rang out from just off-screen.

"Is it him?! Pearl, give that here."

The pearI had just a second to jolt in surprise at the suddenness of her diamond's command—as a keeper of history and culture, Blue Diamond had always moved rather slowly—before the view on the communicator shifted, rising, to focus on a large, long face and perennially heavy eyes.

"Pink," Blue Diamond beamed. "It's been months since you last called! And how dare you not tell me your good news directly," she chided, but with a lightness and affection. "Yellow told me you're back to work on your colony!"

"I'm home on Earth, yes," Steven confirmed, crossing his arms. "But we aren't doing much work. This is a vacation."

"Ah, yes, a 'vacation,'" Blue repeated the word slowly, rolling it around on her tongue. "You mentioned those. They did sound intriguing."

'Intriguing.' The idea of taking any sort of rest had been nearly foreign to the diamonds, when Steven first joined them. It had taken a bit of explaining to make them understand why Steven would regularly lay on cushions and refuse to respond. Of course, the explanation had taken longer than it probably would have if Steven hadn't been more than half-asleep as Blue berated him for his laziness.

"Well, I do look forward to hearing your plans when this 'vacation' is over."

Steven shrugged. "Just more scouting. You all left this sector pretty much alone for Pink Diamond, so we've been having good luck finding suitable planets." His and the diamond's definition of "suitable" being, of course, quite different.

Blue Diamond frowned. "Well, scouting is important, but what of your primary colony?"

"It is doing well," Steven said, stiffening his spine. "We're exploring ways to help it recover the damage from the original development."

"But you must go back into production sometime," Blue objected.

"As I told Yellow, and as I'm sure she told you," Steven seethed, fighting so hard to keep his tension down to just sharp words, instead of devolving to bellowing out more of the day's abundant rage, "I will not be making any gems on Earth. And," Steven went on, holding up a hand as Blue opened her mouth to speak, "I also told Yellow, and I'm telling you that what I do with my colony is my business alone. "

"Pink! You can't keep coming up with excuses to avoid developing your empire! You have a duty to your gems."

"Of course I do," Steven snapped. "And I'm sure I serve my gems—"

Steven stopped himself. Clacked his teeth shut so tight he worried a molar would crack. But he only clenched his jaw the tighter, holding in the accusation of 'far better than you.'

"You do tend to them admirably Pink," Blue soothed, having at last noticed the boy's tension. "But there is always room for improvement."

"Hmm." Steven nodded, battling the ball of vile words cloying to his tongue.

"Well, I'm afraid I must go," Blue said with a deep sigh. "I must activate another batch of injectors soon, or this colony will fall behind schedule. But I really would love to be kept updated, Pink. The data you're sending back from your experiments has been quite... curious."

"Well," Steven shrilled, "I'm glad you can patronize my work."

Blue blinked, but before she could respond, Steven reached out, tapping the bottom of the octahedron and ending the call.

He resisted the urge to throw the communicator into the ocean. For one thing, there were dozens more on-ship, so it wouldn't even bring him peace. And, for another, he couldn't in good conscience subject marine life to Blue. Not even crustaceans.

He rolled the octahedron between his hands. Should he just call White and get the lectures over with? No...given his luck, he'd be put on hold for a week. And then he'd still have the sit through a lecture. Better to wait until the great diamond got around to noticing him. Which, ideally, would take years.

"I see she hasn't changed," a voice opined from behind Steven.

"Laz," Steven yelped, turning to address the gem. "I didn't—"

But the gem before him was wrong. Or, different, to be more accurate. None of the freckling of gold across her nose and cheeks, no heart of blue stone, and no light in her eyes.

"Lapis," Steven corrected himself. He looked about the galaxy warp. "Is this where you got off too?"

The gem shrugged, a long, undulating motion. "I suppose I can go wherever," Lapis said, long legs taking meandering, almost random steps, threading her between the warp pads. "Now that I don't have to wait around, I mean." She sent a look Steven's way. Her eyes were half-lidded, emulating a calm the gem had yet to show since Steven's return. Her wings nested low on her back, tips dragging down and leaving thin, wet trails on the dark blue stones, which evaporated away swiftly in the sea breeze and the light of the rising sun. “But I suppose this place has become rather familiar.”

Lapis's wide, light steps and the wet path behind her created a diagram for a dance Steven had never before seen. Intricate and arresting and closing him into an ever-narrowing circle.

"Lapis," Steven ventured, hairs starting to rise on his forearms, He could not blame their erectness on the chill. Not with the sun banishing the last of the day's fog. "Lapis, you didn't have to wait here for me. That wasn't healthy."

"I'm a gem, Steven," Lapis snapped, light flashing through her wings. "We don't have 'health.' You're either broken or you're not."

"You know that's not true. Look at how much you improved back at the barn, with Peridot!"

"And why did I need to stay with some kindergartner, Steven?" She shot back. "Because of what she ," Lapis gestured vaguely in the air, where Blue Diamond's face floated, "did to me in the war. And because of what your monster did to me when I got free."

Steven was quite certain whom Lapis would consider a monster. He thought it best to let the insult go. "And Peridot helped," Steven reiterated. "She was there for you. From what I'm gathering, she wanted to be there for you when I left, too, but you wouldn't let her!"

Lapis swung about on Steven, screaming. "If she had helped me when I needed her, then you wouldn't have left in the first place!" At the ocean gem’s back, her wings fractured, becoming a million needle shards, which shot back, lancing into one of the broken warp pads, reducing it to a pile of dust.

Steven stepped back, arms rising to protect his eyes from flying debris. He almost raised a shield. He desperately wanted to, still. But once more arming himself against Lapis...it didn't feel right. She was almost...almost like one of his own gems. There was a pull at his core, from his gem, that desperately wanted some way to connect to hers. To comfort her.

And that pull became all the stronger, all the more painful, as he risked lowering his guard and saw that as Lapis was regaining her wings, their forms thin and brittle, some of the water she used was rising from the tears streaking her cheeks.

"We had a chance, Steven," Lapis croaked. "If she'd done it, if I'd...if I'd made her...."

"Lapis?" Steven ventured, daring a step forward, an arm outstretched.

His foot landed on a thin shard of stone, which cracked under his feet.

Lapis jerked back. Her wings, though still lace-thin, spread wide. "I—" she croaked.

And then she was gone, leaving Seven with nothing but confusion and the sort of bone-deep chill you could only feel on the sea.

Thankfully, the warp pad Lapis had damaged hadn't been the outlet to Beach City. Steven did not relish the thought of calling his crew for a pick-up. He needed a little more time alone. Please.

He hoped, with all his hybrid heart, that he could warp through the Temple without facing anyone.

He came through, light taking on solid form once more, and looked about his remodeled childhood home.

The Crystal Gems, to a one, looked back at Steven. So did Jasper. And Carnelian, Green Star and Hush. And a half-dozen other crew members, all of whom crowded about Greg Universe, who sat on the couch, leafing through one of Steven’s many childhood photo albums.

Steven considered warping up to the Temple hand and flinging himself on the edge.

"Steven!" One of the amethysts cheered, pointing at the open album. "Ga-reg was just about to show us your Ceremony of..." she paused, looking to Greg, mouthing a foreign word. "Brisk?"

Greg grinned. "Close. Very close."

Steven blinked.

He turned to light and fled.

Not far. A few dozen feet up. And, despite earlier considerations, he did not take an immediate nose-dive off the pinky

Mostly because he instinctively froze when he saw the flash of a long, wide blade in sunlight.

And a little bit because the holder of this particular blade was not Connie, as he first thought. It wasn't even any blade-wielder from his crew. Instead, Jasper's geodemate, the well-named Skinny, sat on the little mound of stone below the hand's pinky. Across her lap lay a sword, which Steven took several seconds to recognize: the claymore of Fire Agate, the one Pearl had returned to the Beta gem only...stars, was it just two days ago?

"Oh, sorry," Steven said, taking a step back and wracking his mind for warp destinations. Shards, if he'd gotten permission from the Crystal Gems to connect the Blade to the Earth's warp system, he could have escaped to his ship. (If he'd asked to connect Earth to the galactic warp system, he could have shot himself into the void between stars and never have to deal with any of this again....)

Before he settled on a destination, though, Skinny turned about to address him. "My Diamond," she said, "can I talk to you?"

Steven paused. The lithe jasper sounded quite serious. He knew that this old soldier wasn't quite so... emotionally constipated as Jasper, but her moments of catharsis had never happened with him. She talked with Carnelian, or another Beta jasper, or occasionally one of the calmer amethysts. But, while she was friendly enough with Steven, being the sort to use "My Diamond" and "Steven" interchangeably, they had never had a long talk about feelings .

"Of course," Steven said, striving for a tone between chipper and solemn. It was time to be The Listener. The wise one. The shoulder to lean on.

He took a few jogging steps off the warp pad and down to the little crease below Skinny's seat. What was it, the Life Line? No, no, Heart. He was pretty sure. Whatever it was, the dip was just deep enough to put Steven's head nearly on a level with the orange gem.

She looked to Steven, offering an awkward smile before returning focus to the sword on her lap. There was a little pile of supplies and what looked to be several short pieces of frayed cord by Skinny's thighs; the remnants of the sword's previous grip, it seemed. Skinny was carefully wrapping the naked grip in thread of a burnt orange even deeper than the gem's own stripes.

"Are you...switching to the claymore?" Steven ventured, watching the masterful wrapping. Skinny kept a constant tension on the string, leaving no gaps in the cover, even when her fingers gave a little flourish, leaving behind a decorative knot.

Skinny tilted her head. Considering. "You know. We loved Fire Agate," she said, trailing her knuckles along the blade for a moment, before going back to her work. "If she saw me touching her weapon like this, she'd have poofed me and put me on the front lines for the next dozen battles."

Steven blinked. "That's love?"

Skinny laughed, pulling the cord tight, her arm muscles popping into definition. With another little dance of fingers, the thread wove in on itself, and Skinny picked a small blade from the tools, flashing it across the trailing end of the cord. A small bit of the cut end peeked out from the weave, but a little brushing and rubbing along the grip worked it back under the wrap, giving the illusion that the grip was made of one unending orange strand.

Skinny held the sword out over the edge of the Temple hand, examining her work in the sunlight.

"We loved her," Skinny repeated. "And she did her best by us. But she let most of us get shattered." The veteran sighed. "And then she was shattered, herself."

"It...sounds like Mossy would have hated her," Steven said. He most definitely did. Another high-class gem, sending so many of Pink's gems to their deaths those millennia ago? And yet, at the same time, here was again that faint, hollow ache of connection is his gem as he looked on the agate's sword. She'd been his. Before he even existed, he was hers.

"Yes," Skinny agreed, laying the claymore across her lap. "I think, looking back, I hate her, now, too." Despite her words, Skinny's touch on the blade was tender, mindful of an edge sharp enough even a gem’s sturdy skin. "And I miss her so much."

Steven knew grief was strange. He'd certainly felt enough conflicting emotions about his mother's unremembered death. Add on thousands of years of mourning, and the interconnected death of hundreds of sisters, and things must grow even more unmanageably complex. Hatred and love and nostalgia in one really didn't seem so strange.

But Skinny's next words still shocked the breath out of him.

"I want you to do the injections on the battlefield."

It was so unexpected, so unrelated to what had come before, that Steven didn't even have time to feel a building anger, as he had done with Elder and Blue Diamond, before Skinny was speaking again.

"I know it's not my decision," she said, calm as the sea breeze on her face, "and it's against every rule you have. But that's what I want."

"But...why?" Steven somehow managed, staring at the Beta gem. "Wait. How do you even know about that?" He couldn't imagine Elder had told the entire crew of her dressing-down, and Skinny and Elder weren't close.

"Well, Elder was upset." Skinny had a little twitch in her lips. "And she talked to Swift about it, and Swift's quarters are...."

"Across the hall from Heliodor's," Steven finished, rubbing at his face. "So the entire ship knows, then?"

"About you blowing up and scaring the lustre off Coral?" Skinny said. "Of course."

Steven groaned. Just what he needed. "Skinny, you know I won't inject on Earth. I can't."

"But you don't know what to do with the battlefield, either," Skinny pointed out. "Even if you take the land from the humans—"

" Buy ," Steven interjected. "We would buy the land."

"Right, right," Skinny dismissed. "Commerce. I was around this morning, I get it. So, even if you buy the land...what then? You just...keep it like it is?"

"Well, yeah," Steven said. "It would be a monument!"

"My Diamond, that is not a monument," Skinny said. "I mean, I don't know about the Crystal Gems, but when I saw the battlefield...." She shuddered. "It's horrific."

"Isn't that what battlefields are?"

"Of course they are. My Diamond, I went into that fight with a hundred of my geode at my side. And I left it with four. My agate was shattered. And all that's left of them is being sapped out by those organics. The life there? All over that battlefield? It's not a monument. It's a parasite, feeding off our dead. And it will keep feeding on the energy they left behind until...until I don't know." Skinny ran a hand along the flat of her agate's blade. "And I hate it. I hate that it's happening, and I want it to stop. All of us from the battle want it to stop, but your damn ideals won't let us just inject enough to make everything normal there." Her hand tightened into a fist and came down on her thigh, hard enough that the gem winced. Though her face was a rictus of pain already.

Steven stared. Skinny had adapted to familiarity with him, but she'd always been a more...traditional gem. As in, he suddenly realized, a compliant one. Which was an unnerving thought, given how he had always tried to get his gems to share their feelings. But, well...it was so rare that they expressed an idea counter to his own wishes. And, despite the sudden opening-up from a gem who had done little but get along for the past decade, Steven found himself...well, wishing she hadn't . Wishing she had kept her opinion to herself. Wishing he didn't have to suddenly consider desires contrary to his own.

It would have taken ages to find a way to react to Skinny's proclamation, but jaspers are never fond of waiting. The claymore on Skinny's lap turned into a pool of light before being reabsorbed into her gem, and she stood, looking out to the sea and quite deliberately away from her diamond.

"Those plants thrive on the spirits of our dead," she said. "And I'd rather have one new crew member among us than watch as my sisters are devoured for another five-thousand years. And maybe those Crystal Gems disagree. But they are the reason things are like this, to begin with."

Steven leaned back, mouth dropping open as he tried to sputter a response, but he had only managed stray syllables before Skinny stepped over the edge of the Temple hand, dropping out of view. Soon, she reappeared down below, walking away across the beach, leaving Steven finally alone, as he had wanted so many times today, suddenly wishing that it wasn't always his wishes that had to be granted.

Everyone in the house below seemed unconcerned with the diamond brooding far overhead, as no one came up to impose upon Steven. Which meant he had plenty of time to go over the morning. And, unfortunately, his mind did not rehash the pleasant parts.

Just as being up in the sea breeze began to feel uncomfortable, a little party of gems appeared from the temple below. Steven was still loath to catch notice, so he trusted to his high perch for shelter. But, while most of the gems were occupied with chatter, not all were as oblivious as the diamond wished. The temple's hand cast a long shadow, and the new bump on the shadow betrayed a recalcitrant diamond.

It was odd to see Garnet startle. From what Steven understood, the fusion saw possibilities, not certainties, but she had always shown such calm self-possession that it seemed she must know all. But it wasn't until she stepped under the shadows on the sand that the fusion noted their observer.

But, unlike Steven's own gems, who would have, no doubt, cheered and waved and given him away, Garnet just glanced up at Steven and gave a little nod. Then, she went back to talking with Green Star, who was, really, far more important than some diamond .

The group continued around south of the cliffside and out of sight, leaving Steven to sigh with relief. An unopposed retreat. And he didn't even need to call Lion for a jump.

Or so he thought, for Steven realized, as he warped back into the Temple, that he had made that most ancient of gemkind mistakes: he'd forgotten the humans.

Luckily, this one human had a special spot in Steven's heart. Greg Universe smiled upon the reconstituting shape of his son and waved a hand in towards the couch. "Schtu-ball! Come here; I haven't had you all to myself in ages!"

Steven needed no further prompting. He was a starfish, a blanket, a baby monkey wrapping itself around its mommy. Greg, being at least 50% responsible for Steven's need for physical affection, gladly wrapped a hand about his son's back, barely reaching far enough to curl fingertips about Steven's side and pull the young man closer in.

Snuggled up, Steven sighed in contentment. "It has been...a morning."

"I heard," Greg acknowledged. "Got to say, Steven, scaring the crap out of Coral doesn't speak well of how I raised you."

Oh. It was going to be one of those bonding sessions. And, Stars, Greg did them so well. The casual comment, with just a tinge of acerbicness in the tone, and all of it somehow directed at Greg's "failings," instead of Steven's? Parenting at its finest.

"I know," Steven mumbled, looking down at the coffee table, where photo albums still sat open. "I should have kept my temper, but I—"

"People spend enough time talking about 'buts,'" Greg said, smirking as he nodded towards one photo album, which was open upon a particular childhood Beach-A- Palooza performance. Two full moons had shone that night. 

"What did I teach you to say instead?" Greg cajoled. It was such a distant, yet still-familiar tone. The performance of fatherhood, it seemed, did not change when a child reached adulthood.

Steven sighed. "'Butts aren't the end that talks.'" the diamond let his head loll to the side, resting on his father's shoulder. "I know, you're right. I'll apologize to Coral when I get back on ship."

"And?" Greg prompted.

"And Elder," Steven groused, and, far more petulantly, added, "Even though we have rules about not—"

"'Even though' sure sounds like a 'but' by a different name," Greg mused.

Steven sighed and let his justifications drop. "I swear, is there anyone Heliodore hasn't told, yet?"

"Let this be a lesson to you; don't give gossips anything to share. You know. Like yelling at people, ice cream bribery, making out with politicians."

Steven spluttered. "We weren't 'making out!' It was a kiss! 'Making out' is...." Steven paused, considering. "When does it become 'making out?'"

Greg began to chuckle, the movement of his shoulders jostling his son. "Ya know, I sort of expected you to try and deny everything. Though I suppose my little romantic has been dreaming about that kiss for years. Was it everything you ever hoped?"

"Yeeeeeesssss!" Steven squealed, pressing his hands to his cheeks. "Dad, her lips were so soft! And I love her shampoo; it smells all eucalyptus-y! And she's still a really good fighter and she's all political and how do I get Connie to kiss me again?"

"Ask, probably," Greg said, as if it were so simple. "So long as she’s not bus or mad at you. Though, if I know that woman, she's probably not done being mad."

"Ugh." Steven deflated. "Probably...."

Greg patted Steven's back. "But-"

"Butts arent the end that talks," Steven interrupted.

Greg elbowed Steven's side. " However ," he replaced, "she was also waiting for that kiss for years."

There was a little jig playing is Steven's heart. But there was also a slower, more somber tune. One he'd done his best to ignore for the last few days, but which had, nonetheless, been growing louder and louder.

"Dad, I...if Connie has been waiting, then...I mean, why didn't she wait?” Steven looked down at his hands. “For me?"

Greg was silent. The congratulatory pats to his son's back changed into a slow stroke. "Steven...." Greg tried, but soon let out a little snort of frustration.

Leaning forward, grunting as his belly was compressed, Greg plucked a photo album from the coffee table. With a soft, relieved groan, the elder Universe relaxed back into the sofa, resting the open book on his lap.

Steven was only passively interested at first—after all, he'd seen enough of himself—but, suddenly, his mind perked to attention.

This photo album matched none of Greg's style. No extra stickers or little drawings or glittery gel-pen exclamations. The photos were perfectly parallel with the page edges, and there were only brief notations below each image, done in a looping, meticulous script.

And, though, he was in a few of the photos that flipped by, it was a young Connie that starred in every one. Serious and confident, even as a pre-teen, but growing happier and cuter in each image.

Until, suddenly, the smile was gone. And so was he.

Greg didn't explicate on any of the pictures; he let the descriptions—Doug Maheshwaran's hand, no doubt, as Priyanka used a true doctor's script—guide Steven through Connie's life. School awards, orchestra performances, a few candid shots of her with the gems or practicing with Rose's sword in the backyard. Growing slowly older.

Greg flipped a page.

Steven frowned at Connie. With a boy. Both were probably seventeen years old. They sat on a pier at dusk, hands held between them, resting on the salt-weathered wood. It was not a good shot, Steven decided.

Grge paused on that page longer than Steven would like. He wanted the pages to turn, for Connie to move on, for whoever that was to be left behind.

"At the risk of sounding like a skeezy old man, Connie was quite the desirable young woman," Greg said. "Smart, confident, beautiful. She dated plenty. Once Priyanka realized she couldn't stop her." Greg chuckled. "Which was some months after Connie realized her mom couldn't stop her."

Steven’s scowl darkened. Unable to take the image anymore, he reached out and turned the page. Luckily, the boy was already gone, replaced by Connie in one of the more candid shots he'd seen. Priyanka stood before the girl, the smallest, unsuccessfully contained smile on the mother's lips. She was applying concealer to a truly monstrous zit above Connie's left eyebrow. Connie was crying, just a little, but also glaring at the cameraman for immortalizing her this way. It was as funny as it was heart-wrenching.

Greg eyed his son. "She was allowed, you know," he said. "Even if you'd been there, she had every right to make her own decisions.. Heck, if you'd been around and were acting all pissy," Greg paused, letting the 'like this' remain unsaid, "there'd be plenty of people around more than willing to remind you of that. Excluding Pearl. She was pretty pissy about things, herself."

Steven liked Pearl. Pearl was the best.

The slow perusal of the photo album continued. Connie grew taller. More mature. He came across a photo which had caught Connie in the middle of a jump, screaming, holding a paper to her chest. On the opposite page was that crumpled paper: a college acceptance letter. The next several photos were of her in cap-and-gown, and then standing beside a packed car. A dorm room, sitting in a lecture hall, at a table in a pub, about to drop a shot into a dark beer (next to that picture, one of the few notes from Priyanka, a simple "how dare" and a frowny face). And, through them all, she sat with the occasional boy...no, man , at this point. Holding hands or their arms about Connie's shoulders or the woman sitting in their laps. Some there for just a picture. Some for several pages. Eventually all leaving, but all there , for a time. With her.

Steven turned a page too hard, the top hole-punch ripping.

Greg lay his hand on Steven's, preventing further damage. "Steven," he chided, "you have to understand—"

"She's a her own person, I know!" Steven snapped. "I get it, I left her behind! I didn't expect her to...to join a nunnery or something! I just thought...I hoped..." Steven rubbed hard at his eyes, sending up shifting geometric patterns in his vision. "I know I shouldn't have counted on it, but I just thought she'd...you know, when I came back, that...." He sighed. "I thought she'd be ready when I came back."

"Steven." Greg shook his head. He took over the perusal of the photo album again. Flipping faster, through an undergrad career and graduation, waving goodbye at an airport, buried in books, another walk through a sea of graduates, this time arrayed in a bright scarlet gown. Then back in Beach city, in Mayor Dewey's office, arguing with the old politician. On the boardwalk, greeting old friends.

At a small party in Steven's childhood home, sitting on the porch with the gems, looking to the stars. Smiling, eyes bright, almost manic.

Then, in the next picture, a smaller smile. Bags under the eyes, knuckles white as she clutched a glass of wine.

Then, sitting on the beach before an approaching twilight. Lips still curved in a smile, but nothing alight in Connie's eyes. Except exhaustion. A deep tiredness that had nothing to do with whether she slept or not.

"Connie was so ready for you to come home," Greg said. "She came back to Beach City a couple months before you were due, and I don't know what she left behind, back in Oxford, but she left it. Completely. And she waited for you to come home.

"Connie waited. She waited for fourteen years for you to come home." He turned the pages once more, showing a woman in quiet mourning. "And she waited two more years," Greg said, as more pages turned and the exhaustion left Connie's eyes, replaced by a focus, a passion, a purpose as she stood with Mayor Dewey, with city council, with the people of Beach City in a crowd, holding up signs which proclaimed "Vote Maheshwaran!"

Greg turned a page. On the left side, Connie hugged her parents, both completely covered in "Vote Maheshwaran" shirts, hats, pins, lanyards. In the background, Lars was appreciatively watching Sadie, who was mid-jump and screaming. Bill Dewy beamed, confetti resting in his thinned hair. Buck applauded at his father’s side, and the rest of the packed crowd at Fish Stew Pizza went nuts. On the right page, a more formal shot: Connie in a red suit, on a stage, one hand on a thick book, the other held up high.

"And then," Greg said, turning one final page, "she stopped waiting."

Steven had seen Connie in mehndi once before, after she'd returned from a cousin's wedding. But he'd never seen her in such thick saris and intricate jewelry, the henna fresh on her palms, her long hair woven up high on her head, just as adorned as her neck and wrists. She was...ethereal. 

Steven stared. There were pages after this one. A few dozen. And he wanted to look, wanted to wound himself, but he was afraid, ashamed, overwhelmed.

Greg seemed to understand. Greg always seemed to understand. He shifted the photo album to Steven's lap and lumbered to his feet. He patted his son's shoulder, twice. "See you tonight, kiddo," he murmured, and made his slow way across the living room and out the front door.

Steven waited, hoping that someone else might burst in to distract him and demand that Pink Diamond attend some new crisis. But no one was coming to save him.

Steven sniffled and wiped at the pool of tears already in his eyes. Sight clear for but a moment, he turned the page. 

And watched Connie walk down the aisle.