Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The force of the impact nearly vibrates through their bones as the Star Skipper hits the surface, throwing them against the cockpit’s control panel at such a violent speed that they just barely have enough time to put up a bubble.

Thankfully though, ‘enough’ is all the time they need.

In but a millisecond the world tints pink. Following the natural arc of this momentum, their neck whips forward, causing their head to smash against the solid barrier. Stevonnie yelps, their vision fading to temporary wooziness. It takes a while to fully recover. The wrecked remains of the ship spin within their mind like a teetering top as they slowly lift a quivering hand to their forehead to check for wounds. They groan, nearly every square inch of their body aching something terrible… but— a true blessing from the stars—there’s not a wound to be found. No blood, no easily distinguishable breaks, nada.

Woo, lucky them! Score: Stevonnie one, busted, broken spaceship zip.

Their thoughts ricochet back and forth like a shuttlecock at a badminton tournament as they wait for all that unpleasant dizziness to settle.

It must be your healing powers keeping us in one piece, ‘cause that was one really violent crash.

Well, also my bubble is pretty strong!

“Hah, well… we’re lucky even a bubble got me outta this scrape,” they murmur out loud, and let out a shaky breath as they attempt to ground themself.

Taking a cursory glance around, they notice that the cockpit’s window has shattered, leaving the ship open to the vacuum of space. At least, they’re assuming that’s what it is. After all, whatever hunk of rock this is they’ve crashed on doesn’t appear to have an atmosphere.

“Oh boy, guess I gotta keep this thing up for a while,” they say with a nervous laugh. They press their cheek against the bubble’s rim, peering at the cracked display screen. “Now, I wonder if any of this tech is salvageable…”

Stevonnie shifts in the jump seat. Without any iota of warning the ship’s engines explode, launching their protective bubble hundreds of feet closer to the very stars they’re marooned amongst.

Oh, what a day it’s been.

Chapter Text

This shard of planetoid isn’t particularly large, but it has just enough mass that its gravity is swift in yanking Stevonnie’s spinning bubble back to the surface. Their heart pounds as the bubble collides upon the craggy surface, bouncing a few times before finally coming to a full and complete rest. They gasp for breath as they— limbs wobbly and faint— pull themself to their knees.

“Aughh, my everything hurts.”

Slowly but surely they rise to their feet, their knees still quivering something terrible. All around them, the remains of the Star Skipper (may she rest in literal pieces) are now barely distinguishable, nothing left but melted twists of scrap metal. Even if there was any possibility of fixing up the communication array earlier, it’s a moot point by now. 

Steven, how are we gonna—?!

“Oh, no, no no no no!” they cry out, gripping at their hair. “Oh, this is bad. This is so, so bad. How is Lars gonna be able to find us now?”

They adjust the straps of the backpack around their shoulders and begin pacing as they continue to converse with themself, walking back and forth across this rocky plain like a hamster in a ball.

If… y’know… a hamster was at threat of suffocating and freezing to death the exact moment it exited said ball.

“Okay, Stevonnie, calm down,” they say, hugging their arms around their chest. “We’re fine. I’m fine! Let’s just work this out bit by bit. So. We’re stuck on some weird asteroid, or something. We have no ship. No means of communication. We’re safe in this bubble… for now. But… I honestly don’t know how long I can keep this up. I don’t usually use it longer than a few minutes at a time.”

What about the day we first met?

“That’s different, though,” they stress, plopping down within the bubble to sit with their legs crossed. “That time he didn’t summon it voluntarily. And that time, we weren’t stuck in the vacuum of space! Although… Okay. Okay, we were stuck under the ocean, fair point. And I guess there’s that time Steven was marooned with Eyeball. But still. It’s only been a few minutes and I’m already… so… so tired.”

Stevonnie’s breathing grows far more shallow as the minutes tick ever onward, each puff of air coming in staccato gasps amidst their exhaustion. They grit their teeth, hand clenching against the rose quartz gem at their midsection. They’ve long since come to realize that maintaining any one of Steven’s shields or abilities for an extended period of time is super taxing for them, more so than it is for the young half-Gem himself or even his fusion with Amethyst. Makes one wonder if that’s because they’re a 75% human hybrid, or because they simply haven’t trained enough together.

They moan, frustrated at this whole dumb scenario. Is there literally anything they could’ve done differently to avoid all of this? They’re sure Lars and his friends will find them soon once they follow their trail and do a flyby, but there’s still so many variables to consider here. Figuring there’s no sense in sitting here and waiting for their limited energy to deplete, they hop back up to their feet and begin rolling the bubble inland, away from the asteroid’s edge.

About a minute or so later, Stevonnie squints. They swear they can see dimmed starlight glinting off of some sort of domed surface in the far distance. Perhaps there’s some Gem technology hidden away here that could prove useful. Better yet, perhaps there’s a breathable atmosphere in there. But all potential discoveries in good time. For now… all they can do is explore their new surroundings.

Explore and wait.

Chapter Text

The dome encapsulates a gigantic garden. Or at least, what used to be a garden.

All the flora represented here has long since shriveled up, flowers and decorative shrubbery fading into mere husks of their former glory. This plus the hollowed out moon hanging high above this lone asteroid strikes quite a sense of melancholic unease in Stevonnie’s heart, like they’re treading across some sort of long-forgotten ruin they have no right to disturb. Of course, the former plant life signifies the likely presence of oxygen, so since they felt a blissful rush of escaping air while entering through the service doorway and they don’t see any obvious signs of fractures across the glass of this dome, they take a lofty risk and drop the bubble.

They double over in sheer fatigue, stabilizing themself with hands on knees as they gasp for breath. Oh, sweet, sweet life-bringing breath! How they missed this.

Since they don’t feel like they’re ten seconds away from asphyxiating or freezing into a Stevonnie shaped popsicle, they take a moment to collect themself, before resolving to wander around and see what they can find in this strange place.

By and large, the garden takes up the bulk of this structure. Other than that there’s a massive platform situated midway towards its center, with a steep set of stairs stretching all the way to the top. Eyes glittering, they dash forward to take a closer look. They give a sharp inhale as they approach its base, brushing their hand against some eroded Gem glyph etchings in the old stone. They’re sure this complex used to be quite a sight to behold in its heyday. Such a shame time had to carry this place to an eternal rest. What used to go on here, they wonder? What kinds of Gems would use such a space? And why did they stop? Did they just all leave when… when the colony above was fully drained of its resources?

Their nose crinkles just thinking about it.

Hey, they muse suddenly. Up at the top… I think that’s a warp pad.

Are you sure?

Pretty positive.

“Couldn’t hurt to look,” they mutter softly, climbing up the stairs. Though, it’s by no means an easy climb. Their legs are still burning from the long hike they took to reach this dome in the first place.

When they arrive at the top they kneel in front of the familiar crystalline platform, placing a flat palm upon its surface. They close their eyes, focusing their mind on the tangled web of warp stream signatures old users have left behind for the past few millennia. It’s a little like a fossilized travel record, but if it were energy based instead. Well, kinda. They’re sure it’s far more complicated than that, but to be fair Steven wasn’t paying full attention to Pearl the day she was teaching him how to do this. His loss, Stevonnie thinks with a snort. They sure think all this Gem history stuff is interesting.

The web comes into distinct focus within their mind’s eye, and they quickly zero in upon one particularly bright thread… a thread that stretches further across the boundless stars than any Earthen warp stream they’ve ever seen.

“Galaxy warp,” they breathe in giddy realization. “This is an actual, working galaxy warp! But— no!” they cry, grinding their hands into fists. “That means we can’t use it, because Earth doesn’t have an operationa—”

“Is that finally you?” a high-pitched voice cries in joy from the distance.

They whirl around in a flash, scanning the interior of the (perhaps not so?) extinct garden. The complex is massive, but it’s not long before they locate the owner of this unfamiliar voice, trapped amongst the browned and hardened brambles all the way down the stairs.

Standing midway between the raised galaxy warp platform and the stagnant fountain at the center of the dome is a short pink Gem.

From this distance, they’d have to guess she’s maybe half their height, perhaps a little taller. Her gemstone is on her chest, a heart shaped type they don’t recognize. The Gem’s hair is pulled up into messy little buns, twisted to look like hearts to match the stone at the core of her being. She stands with her arms open wide, baggy eyes alight with anticipation as she waits for their response.

Mouth agape, Stevonnie skitters down the steps of the platform as fast as they can. Who is this Gem? Why is she alone in a withered garden, in the middle of deep space? And why are her feet literally bound by roots? Stars, how long has she been standing here?

“Oh! Oh, hello! I, uh— I don’t think I’m who you’re looking for, sorry,” they say with an apologetic smile. “I’m Stevonnie. If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here all on your own?”

“I’m playing a game,” the small Gem replies simply, clasping her gloved hands together.

“A… a game?”

“With my best friend, yes!” she enthuses. “She’ll come back any day now, I can just feel it.”

Her voice sounds chipper enough, but perhaps as a result of Connie’s lonely childhood and the walls a person learns to erect in those situations, Stevonnie can intimately sense the cracks in her facade. They may not understand the full scoop yet, but they can tell she's desperate to convince herself of her own cover story.

What on Earth happened to this Gem, here in this dilapidated garden that time forgot?

Chapter Text

A short while passes. Maybe fifteen or so minutes, it’s hard to tell. They’re genuinely beginning to wish they brought a watch on this misadventure.

In that time, they’ve poked around the central span of the garden to see if there’s anything else of note. For a brief moment Stevonnie’s eyes light up when they see a nearby pedestal holding up what looks to be one of those Diamond Line communicator things, but then… oh, yeah. It’s a Diamond Line. Like the one Peridot used to start a direct video call with Yellow Diamond herself. Even if there’s some theoretic way to hack in to it so it doesn’t connect straight to the Gem Homeworld and all the uber powerful beings who want Steven dead, they wouldn’t even know where to start with that. Ergo, messing with it in any way just doesn’t seem worth the risk. 

They’ve also tried their best to engage this new Gem in conversation, hoping to gain some much needed context on what this place is or what she’s doing here. When all is said and done though, this new Gem doesn’t seem very talkative.

Besides that first outburst she’s only spoken up when spoken to, as if she’s so wholly focused on her current task— so locked in— that she simply doesn’t possess the mental fortitude to voluntarily do anything else. Just thinking about the possibility makes Stevonnie’s heart fill to the brim with sorrow. And to think this is exactly the kind of dark reality the Crystal Gems fought to rescue Gemkind from in the first place!

So far, there’s only three things they know about her for certain:

1. Her name is Spinel.

2. She’s been standing here for a good while. She specifically dodged the question when asked how long.

3. She’s waiting for her best friend. No, she doesn’t want to unwind the vines from around her feet and sit down with them. If she sits she loses the game.

Stevonnie doesn’t know who this supposed ‘best friend’ is yet, but they don’t sound like a very great person if they’ve left this poor Gem to wait alone in the middle of nowhere under the guise of some vapid game.

I’m gonna help her, they wholeheartedly resolve, sitting on the broken cobblestone— their backpack hugged tight to their chest— and waiting for their own friend right alongside this new acquaintance. I don’t know how yet, but I’m gonna find a way.

Chapter Text

“Y’know, there’s something we have in common,” Stevonnie says after an extended stretch of mildly awkward silence.

Spinel’s weary eyes snap open wide, and for a moment the image of her becomes almost doll-like, the lines of stress cutting across her face receding.

“Y— you think so?”

“Yeah.” They tear open a protein bar they retrieved from their pack, and bite into it. Mouth full, they continue. “I’m waiting for a friend, too.”

A myriad of emotions flicker over her features in such a short span of time that they have trouble identifying any single one of them with confidence. There’s shades of quiet disappointment there, they think… and maybe even anguish?

“Oh,” she says simply, folding her hands one over the other as seems customary for her. She stares out at the unmoving stars with a fervent sense of yearning, gazing into the inky canvas of the starlit cosmos as if she’s found literally anything else beyond far distant galaxies to focus her imagination on. 

Stevonnie purses their lips. Hmm. Could there be something else out there they’ve yet to notice? A planetary body they’re unable to see? Something hidden, or even something that exists beyond the visible spectrum of light a human is capable of seeing? This Gem’s certainly stood here for a long while, eyes adjusting to the low-lit darkness. And surely there’s still a ton of stuff they don’t understand about the limitless expanse of space anyways. In their opinion, not having all the answers is super exciting. After all, there’s no telling what humanity (and even Gemkind!) has yet to discover!

With a wry smile, they shake their head. Calm down, nerd. Your Connie is showing. They take another mouthful of the protein bar, feeling it slide nice and smooth down their throat and into their stomach. Hopefully now it’ll stop churning so much.   

“You can wait for your friend with me,” Spinel says then, not peeling her eyes away from the endless night sky beyond the dome. “If you… want to be with me, that is.”

“Thank you. I’d like that.” Then with a snicker: “‘Course, knowing Lars and his navigating skills I might have to wait a long while.”

The soft curve of the smile arcing across her face looks just a bit too perfect to seem real. “Well, good thing ya’ don’t have to worry about me goin’ anywhere!”

Chapter Text

If there’s one thing Stevonnie knows to be certain, it’s that waiting together in extended periods of silence is still far better than waiting alone.

They can already sense the psychological scarring Spinel’s suffered from her time spent in this suffocating isolation. She still hasn’t entrusted them with the knowledge of how long, but context clues have led them to imagine that this vigil is far, far from a recent development.

For one, the hardened vines shackling her feet to the cobbles are a rather telling sign, overtaking her as if she’s but another unmoving, unfeeling feature of this ancient landscape. Since the pink Gem refuses to break free from those vines they might as well be a warden of her own making, and be believed— it’s not for lack of trying on their part. The garden’s state of disarray is the other big clue. All the crumbling pillars, the cracked stone pavers… It reminds them of the ruins where they practice their sword technique with Pearl. And those are over five thousand or so years old, they think?

More to the point, a lot of Spinel’s words and actions simply paint a picture of someone who’s waited in solitude far longer than any individual ever should. She smiles often, but it never reaches her eyes. Her general lack of prolonged conversation thus far reads less as rudeness, and more as genuine confusion as to how to best interact with another intelligent being. She’s unpracticed. Rusty. Whoever this person is she’s playing this game with, they better damn well be worth it, they think, hugging their knees to their chest as they sit under the inattentive watch of the stars. Sure, Stevonnie gets that time passes differently for Gems, that the sheer length of their lifespans sometimes makes a decade seem like a blink of an eye with nothing short-term to act as an anchor, but making someone wait in place for this long while framing it as a game to be won just seems… needlessly cruel.

“So, who’s this friend you’re waiting for, anyways?” they ask then, curious despite themself.

Spinel sighs dreamily, the corners of her mouth curving up with a gentle grace. It’s the closest she’s come to genuine happiness the whole time they’ve been marooned here with her.

“Only the most lustrous of Homeworld’s matriarchs,” she replies in a slight sing-song tone, eyes glinting wistfully. “Pink.”

Stevonnie just about unfuses right then and there.

Their mind— which, over the hours had settled into a primarily singular voice— fills to the brim with a cacophony of clashing input, tinted with shades of panic and confusion and reassurance that could only stem from their component halves. It’s jarring enough that it’s honestly a miracle they’re able to pull themself back together at all. It’d be radically different if they were back at home. Back in Beach City, safe on the beach, surrounded by people they know and love, a dissonance like this would probably cause them to split apart instantly. Contrary to what one may think it’s not a sign of weakness as a fusion, not at all. It’s merely a natural reaction to a mind becoming disparate and divided. Any fusion can experience this after long enough. Alexandrite, Opal, even Garnet.

It’s only Steven and Connie’s desperation to remain as close to each other in the wake of all this unfamiliarity that allows them to retain an anchor on their very existence, clutching to the softly thrumming threads of hard-light that are stitching them together. They throw their hands against the sides of their head to ground themself, temples pounding as they gawk at her with mouth agape, eyes bugging out.

“Wait— Pink Diamond?”

”The very one!” the heart-shaped Gem chimes while swaying back and forth, clearly not noticing the sweat beading on their forehead as they desperately try to keep themself together in the shock of this revelation. “I was made specially for her, a perfectly cut Spinel companion for a perfectly cut diamond!”

”O-oh,” they stammer. “That’s… cool.”

Unable to retain eye contact with her any longer in this moment, Stevonnie turns away with a low, shaky breath. Their hands clutch at the bottom hemline of their shorts. Caught in the throes of internal turmoil, they begin to inwardly converse with themself.

Oh boy, oh boy, oh geeze, this isn’t good, one voice frets, flashing back to the way Eyeball treated him when he revealed who his mother was…

Hey, hey, it’s fine, says the other, try to calm down, it’s—

But she was waiting for Pink Diamond! She’s waiting for Pink, and I— my mom shattered her, an’ so if my mom shattered her then it’s my fault she’s here waiting in the first place, for thousands of years, and even if Pink was supposed to be bad, that means she’ll never come back for Spinel, and Mom did that to her, and—

Listen to me. It’s gonna be okay! I promise you it’ll be okay.

B-but—!

No. Steven. Deep breath. We’re gonna figure this out.

Stevonnie inhales slowly through their nose, letting the stale garden air fill their lungs completely. They count to themself— one, two, three, four, five— and then exhale, letting the imbalance plaguing them fade away.

I’ll find some way to figure this mess out, they think in resolution, biting at the inside of their lip. As Rose’s legacy, it’s my duty to.

Chapter Text

“It’s… been a long time since I’ve gotten to listen to someone else talk,” Spinel says out of the blue.

Stevonnie’s fidgety hands grow still, their attention pulling away from the fisherman’s knot they’re tying over and over again (knot, unravel, rinse and repeat) with a short length of frayed rope they found in Connie’s bag. Their brow shoots up. Did… did they really hear what they think they heard? Did Spinel just speak on her own without first being prompted? Their glance shifts to their companion, and it seems she’s not finished revealing her thoughts yet.

Still standing in the exact same root covered patch of ground they found her shackled to initially, the Gem wrings her fingers together, vulnerability streaked across her features as clear as the metaphorical heart on her sleeve. (Metaphoric because actually, she keeps it on her chest.) She presses her lips together, letting them sound a pop a few times to fill the dead space. It’s clear she’s choosing her words carefully. Watching close for every slight shift in their reaction.

“So I— I hope it’s okay that I’ve mostly been quiet. It’s okay, right? You’re not upset? O-or disappointed, or—?”

Stevonnie regards them with a melancholy smile, unable to bury the depth of the pain they feel for her plight. Thanks to Steven’s empathetic abilities, they can literally sense her distress as clear as day, as if it’s a dense smog tainting the very air. But right now their friend doesn’t need to know that.

Right now, what she needs is reassurance.

”Nah, of course not. I understand not wanting to talk much. Talking can be super tiring. ‘M honestly…” They yawn. “Kinda tired, myself.”

Spinel tilts her head. “Tired?”

“Yup, I probably gotta get some sleep soon.”

“Sleep? Is that some sorta game too?”

“Oh yeah, I always forget that Gems don’t need that,” they say under their breath, stashing the length of rope away in the backpack’s front pocket. “It’s— ah geeze, how do I explain this— it’s when you get all comfy, and close your eyes, and don’t speak or think, and sorta… let your mind drift away.”

“So there is a name for it…” she says in quiet awe. “Huh. I guess I’ve been playing ‘sleep’ a whole lot, lately.”

Chapter Text

It seems all Spinel needed to begin to speak up on her own was a little courage and time to warm up to their presence, and now that she’s pushed past that initial barrier the questions flow without restraint.

Their companion tilts her head, the thin tufts of flyaway hair that fray from the edges of her heart shaped buns shifting as she does, and squints. “What sort of Gem is a ‘Stevonnie,’ anyways?” she asks, gesturing towards the pinkish-red gemstone positioned at the center of their belly. “I ain’t ever heard of such a cut, and we Spinels are s’pposed to know most everything! Hah, can’t have comedy without material to make comedy of, o’ course!”

“Huh?” they murmur, snapping to attention. In their exhaustion, they must have come close to dozing off.

Spinel purses her lips impatiently. “Gem.”

In an instant she stretches out her arm like it’s a length of salt water taffy to cross the blank space between them, startling them in the unexpected shock of it. Lightly, she jabs her gloved pointer finger at their stomach.

“What is it?”

Stevonnie’s eye twitches, cataloguing the sight of Spinel’s extreme (and admittedly impressive) shapeshifting ability away for later.

“Oh, y’mean my gem type? It’s… actually a Rose Quartz,” they explain with a measure of hesitation. “Stevonnie’s just the name I go by.”

Her expression scrunches in blank confusion. “Why wouldn’t you just be called what you are like everyone else?”

They pause, genuinely considering how best to answer this question for a Homeworld Gem who (as of yet) hasn’t claimed her own individuality. The concept of going by his gem type instead of his birth name is definitely something Steven’s contemplated on the rare occasion… on long, restless nights stuck wandering the lonely seas of consciousness alongside the everlasting specter of his own dour thoughts. It’s an emotionally charged scenario to be sure, when it comes to his— and by extension, their— complex relationship with Rose. With… with the Gem who gave up her physical form to create them. But right now, in this precise moment, they’re not Steven at all, are they? So forget what he’d think about all this. How would they answer? What’s most important to them about their identity? Humming, they perch their hand against their chin.

“Because… having a rose quartz gem just isn’t who I am, not really. It’s only a small piece of the puzzle. Who I am is what I choose, what I experience. That’s true for everyone in every moment, in my book! And in this moment, I’m choosing to be Stevonnie.”

Spinel gawks at them completely wall-eyed, mouth agape. “Wowie…” they breathe in thinly veiled awe. “That sure is the deepest thought I’ve ever heard!”

They run their restless fingers through the hair at the nape of their neck. “Uh— thanks?“

Mind sparking with fresh info to mull over, they avert their head for a moment to think in private. Hmm. Well, that interaction didn’t go as poorly as they feared it might. That being said, the topic of Rose and Pink and any obligations they may hold therein is something they absolutely want more than one voice weighing in on. Perhaps it’s time to do some meditation. They sit up straight, positioning their hands the way Garnet showed them months back.

Stevonnie closes their eyes, steadily breathes in and out, and willfully lets their sense of self fade into the background.

Chapter Text

On a frosted blue plane of subconscious thought somewhere deep within their psyche, Stevonnie’s components sit side by side.

Steven hugs his knees tight to his chest, rocking himself back and forth in a futile attempt to expend the excess nervous energy jittering through his bones.

“Gee, I gotta say I’m surprised she didn’t react more about… well, y’know… about Rose Quartz and all,” he says with a slight laugh. “Everyone else tends to freak out about it, and like, try to kill me.”

Meanwhile, Connie hums thoughtfully, sitting with her legs crossed underneath her. She balls her hand at her chin as she considers the deeper implications of this quandary. “But that makes total sense, actually.”

He squints. For a split second he's genuinely not sure whether she’s referring to the fact that people want to kill him because they think he’s his mom or the fact that Spinel didn’t react negatively. He supposes that’s a bit silly though, since they’re currently fused and by all rights should have full access to each other’s thoughts, feelings, and memories. Duh, of course she means the later!

“Oh,” he breathes, suddenly hit with the same spark of logic that she’s just parsed out. “Ohhhh!”

“Right?" she enthuses, and it's almost as if she can tangibly sense the neurons connecting in his head. "Think about it. If she’s been waiting here for Pink Diamond for thousands and thousands of years and doesn’t even know she’s been shattered, then she doesn’t know to be angry at Rose Quartz for doing that in the first place.”

“Wow… Connie, you’re a genius, you know?”

She bites back a smitten smile, glancing away bashfully. “Well, I can’t exactly claim that, but…”

“Sure ya’ can, if it’s the truth!”

“Oh, you flatterer, you.”

Sighing, Steven lays himself down on this metaphysical plane’s surface, briefly feigning content as he stares at the faint specks of light glittering like diamonds in their shared sky. Diamonds… It seems they can't avoid the reminder, as of late. His neutral expression slips into a frown. As he’s absentmindedly tracing the edges of his gem through his shirt— a subconscious habit he’s never quite been able to shake— he feels Connie plop down right at his side. Her hair brushes against his ear. He smirks for a moment, giving a soft laugh at how it tickles before he shifts a smidge away to give her more room, but then…

“No,” she says firmly.

“What??” he cries, throwing his arms to the side. “Come on, I didn’t even say anything, how’d you—”

“We’re fused, Steven. Believe me, I know every surface thought that's running through your mind right now and at the moment? They’re pretty loud. Plus, you’ve got a terrible poker face,” Connie jokes, before her expression sobers again. She sighs, simultaneously understanding the churning burden of her best friend’s guilt and also the external reality that he has nothing to answer for in the first place. “You‘re considering telling Spinel that Rose Quartz, your mom, shattered her friend. Her Diamond. You’re fully prepared to take the fall for something you never did, because even if deep down you know you had nothing to do with your mom’s decisions, you still can’t help but act as if it’s your fault anyways.”

His cheeks grow beet red under the scrutiny of her deep-digging psychoanalysis.

“Well— we can’t just… continue to lie to her, Connie!” he says, pointedly swerving the topic away from himself. “You know how I feel about lying.”

Her hand shifts to rest upon his forearm. He turns to look, and when he does he's met with her unending gaze, endless understanding woven through her soul's glassy window.

“Yes. Yes, I know. I know it hurts you. And I’m sorry for that. But would not lying make anything better? Like, how would she react? What would she say? Would it hurt her instead… knowing the truth? That no matter what she does, her friend’s never coming back?”

The two of them inhale together, in sync with Stevonnie’s calm breathing. Steven closes his eyes as he considers this quandary further, focusing on— instead of the twinkling sky— the steady heartbeat of the girl lying next to him. It’s a reassuring sound. Connie does exactly the same, and the two of them soon find themselves almost moved to tears by the simple reminder that… even if they have no idea how to navigate any of this… at least they have each other.

Steven slowly moves to intertwine his fingers with hers. “I guess… there’s no perfect solution to this, huh?”

“Believe me, I don’t like the thought of withholding the truth either. But I truly think this is one of those rare cases where the morality of it is subjective.”

“Well, I still think we should tell her,” Steven states firmly. “She deserves to know she doesn’t have to wait anymore, even if it hurts at first. But maybe not right now. Not when we’re so sleepy. And I don’t wanna do something you’re not comfortable with, either. Ya’ wanna come back to this discussion later?”

“Yeah, sure! Rest would be best. Help us make the best decision, an’ all.”

“‘Kay! It’s a deal. Goodnight!”

“Sleep tight…”

In a shriveled garden under the watchful shadow of that hollowed moon, Stevonnie opens their eyes

Chapter Text

If there’s one thing Stevonnie can thank their lucky stars that Connie Maheswaran is an absolute pro at, it’s being prepared for the brutal punishments of nature. Strictly speaking, their current place of refuge is no jungle— all the foliage and fauna that might’ve made its home here once upon a very long time has long since crumbled into ash, decaying into legend right alongside these ancient Gem ruins— but the point still stands. Who else would think to bring stuff like a grappling hook, or thermal blankets, or a spile, or fourteen days’ worth of dense protein meal bars that they could stretch out over a month’s time in a pinch? Certainly not Steven, the kid who once brought board games on a mission to the Great North.

Although now that they’re thinking about it, perhaps he’s got a fair amount of sense to him after all, ‘cause they’d do just about anything for like… a good deck of cards right now. It’d be fun, or at least more fun than just awkwardly sitting here under the stars in a constant state of half-conversation. Perhaps they could play some solitaire… teach Spinel go fish. Something like that. Oh, if only.

Literally anything would be better than waiting at this juncture.

“Lars, where are you?” they whine to themself.

Stevonnie yawns, and begins to unfold the aforementioned thermal blanket from its compact packaging. It’s thankfully not too chilly inside the domed garden, but they figure they’ll be able to catch a few more winks than the bare minimum if they have something weighing them down. Now, for the last preparation. They need somewhere secluded to lay. They glance at their pink companion from the corner of their eyes, knowing full well what has to come next. After becoming the first source of conversational engagement this Gem’s had for stars knows how long, they don’t relish in the thought of just… leaving her alone out of the blue like this, but it’s unavoidable if they want to get any iota of rest. They're absolutely positive they can’t sleep with someone standing there watching the whole time. Ergo, they need to seek some distance. Just for a few hours, just while they rest.

A good twenty feet away, the fusion finds exactly what they’re looking for. There’s a crumbling pillar tilted askew there, with the top half of it (it must’ve fallen off) lodged into the dirt on its side. Bingo! they think with a grin. An ancient ruins privacy curtain!

Bundling the blanket in the crook of their arm, they rise to their feet to go check it out. But right as they’re about to take their first step towards the pillar, a hand wraps around their free arm with all the force and elasticity of a lasso, holding them back. They stumble in place, heart skipping at the surprise. At the other end of the super-stretched arm, Spinel stands ever resolute in the middle of the clearing. The smile crossing her lips is obviously forced.

“Heyyy, friend!” she says in an overly chipper tone. “Buddy, palsy… Whatcha up to?”

“Uhhh—” Sweat beads on their brow as they desperately grasp for any way to kindly explain this, because they have a fear where this conversation is going. “Finding a place to sleep?”

Hurt washes over her features. “You can’t do that here?”

“Well, you see, the thing is—”

“Y-you’re just gonna leave me, here, alone?!” she cries, quivering panic jolting its way into every square inch of her hard light body.

“Whoa, whoa, no!” Stevonnie says, holding up their hands in defense. “No, of course I’m not! I have nowhere to go, remember? I’m waiting just like you!”

She flashes a wounded expression, eyes glistening. Slowly but surely however, she loosens her grip around their arm and retracts it back.

“Then… where are you going?”

“I’m… I’ll only be on the other side of this broken pillar, all right? I can’t sleep without a little space.”

Spinel rolls her eyes wide, the pupils subtlety bouncing as they return to rest. “Heh, a little space. Look all around you, you’ve got as much space a Gem’ll ever need! Eh? Eh?”

She stretches her arm out again to nudge their shoulder with her elbow. Mind in turmoil, Stevonnie doesn’t respond, doesn’t turn their head to even glance at her.

While normally they’d laugh at a dumb joke like that, their current circumstances have stretched their capacity to truly enjoy anything without becoming a total worry wart thin. They sigh, trying not to dwell on the depressing reality of just how much this waiting game has emotionally scarred this poor Gem, or on the fear that they were… maybe, on some small scale… somehow contributing to that by uncovering old wounds.

“Stevonnie?” her sad little voice rings after a few seconds of deliberate silence. “Why aren’t you laughing at my joke?”

”I’m sorry, but—” they press their hand to their temple, as if they could simply rub away the growing stress— “I’m really tired, okay? I promise you, it’s not your fault, it’s just…” They yawn, sudden and unrestrained. “Been a very long day…”

“Didn’t feel very long to me,” she comments, tone low.

They look back on her with a glint of sympathy, voice soft as they continue. “We can talk until I fall asleep, how’s that? But once I’m asleep, I’ll be quiet and unable to hear you for a few hours.”

When they turn their back on her, the last thing they see is her heartbroken expression, lips pursed into a small pout. But ultimately, she doesn’t drag out the conflict any further after that, so neither do they.

Chapter Text

“What’s it like?” Spinel‘s voice comes from the other side of the pillar, after but a few minutes of quiet.

“Hmm?”

Their eyes flutter open, body shifting under the thermal blanket upon the timely reminder of the cold stone supporting their limbs. For but a moment as they were about to drift off, they imagined that they were flopped across the wooden floors of Steven’s house, or even stargazing out on the boardwalk, but… No. No, of course not. The stars were never this stark and numerous back home. The space between them was never this black.

“Out there… beyond the garden,” she clarifies softly. “I’m just wondering… if it’s moved, at all. Without me. After all, it’s been quite a while,” she says with a wry laugh. “I’m sure the diamonds have so many more colonies. And then there’s you- a Rose Quartz! Hah! I’ve never even heard of your type before this. Imagine that.”

“I, uh.” Stevonnie rubs their eyes as they yawn, their hands shifting to rub away the ache in their jaw that’s probably a late aftereffect of the crash. “I don’t know much about what the diamonds are up to lately, but where I’m from things are always moving, actually.”

Ever so faint, they notice something prickly under their fingertips as they rub at their skin. Their features narrow in concentration. What is… Oh. The realization slams into them like the inevitable force of the ocean’s tides against weathering stone. Ohhhh! they marvel, taking rapturous note of the bristly texture. Holy— is that stubble on their chin?? The world is ever moving, indeed!

But just as quickly as they made their exciting discovery, Spinel’s voice returns in a rush of panic to ferry them back down to Earth.

(Well, back to… this random hunk of space rock? Whatever it’s called. If… it actually has a name. Yeah. They’re definitely teetering on the edge of exhaustion right now. Gold star, Stevonnie, idiom wasted.)

“Always moving?” the pink Gem says, every syllable laced with more nervous energy than the last. “Always? Truly?? H-how do you live with that? Doesn’t that ever make you feel, erm, you know… outmoded?”

That last word is spoken in a shaky whisper, as if the very concept is something shameful to even think, let alone utter out loud for the entire galaxy above to hear, absolutely silent in its cosmic judgement.

“Not really,” they say, still transfixed by the super cool fact that they’re able to grow actual hair on their face. They smile, dropping their hand from their chin, and drink in the sight of the endless universe above them as they lay atop the weathered stone of the garden. “Things change a whole bunch, yeah. And sometimes it hurts. But other times, change can be for the better, y’know? Sometimes what we’re used to has to end so we can start something new.”

“That sounds scary.”

“Sometimes, yes! Totally! But it’s honestly the most beautiful thing in all of existence. There really is a bunch of incredible stuff out there, moving and growing. I can show you around if you want, when we leave.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. And even though it’s nearly imperceptible— there’s a newfound flicker of hope struggling to stay alight in her tone. “When… we leave…”

Chapter Text

“Stevonnie?”

They stir with a soft groan upon Spinel’s call, and— yearning for any pinch of warmth and comfort they can grasp— curl into fetal position under the thermal blanket. “Yeah…?”

“Are you still there?”

“Physically? Yeah. Mentally? I’m ‘bout ready to crash.”

“Crash?” The gem sounds genuinely troubled by this notion, her voice pitching up. “Into what?”

“W-well, in this case it’s not strictly literal…” And thank goodness for that, they think, holding back a snort of amusement. “But into dreams, I guess one could say.” With much contemplation, they narrow their eyes. “Wait, you probably don’t know what dreams are, either. Aw, shoot. Uh—”

“Is it another sleep thing?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is. It’s kinda like, um, a story you watch in your mind. Kinda. It’s pretty complicated to explain, sorry. I could probably do a better job if I wasn't… halfway there,” they say, yawning their way clear through that last sentence.

“Oh! Oh, oh, wait, I know about stories! I used to tell Pink stories all the time!”

“You did, huh? What kinds of stories?”

“Oh, I’d talk about loads of things! Imaginary stories about distant colonies, ones about real Gem history or past trips to the surface, or about the life of Her Radiance herself…”

Ah, okay, they think, slight disappointment flooding their synapses. So mostly Homeworld propaganda stuff. Should’ve expected that. 

Still, they can’t deny they’re curious to tap into Spinel’s knowledge about Gem society. See what she knows. Garnet and Pearl don’t share much about their past to Steven, so it could be educational.

(And, not to be rude, it also might distract the now talkative Gem enough to let them finally fall into the open arms of sleepy time land. Stars know they ache for it.)

“Could… you tell me one?” they ask.

A distance away, beyond the pillar, Spinel is entirely taken aback by their request.

“You want me to— really?”

“Yeah, of course! It’ll be like a pre-dream.”

A few heartbeats of silence pass as they shift under the thermal blanket, waiting for a response.

“Well,” their Gem companion begins eventually, interspersed by nervous laughter, “it’s been quite a while, but I’ll try my bestest! Any requests?”

They purse their lips thoughtfully, gazing towards the portrait of the cosmos stretching infinitely above. “Hmm. What about… something about that moon in the sky?” they say, eyes locking on the stellar object in question, hanging above them like a silent sentinel. From this perspective, the hole bored through it almost looks like a heart.

“Oh, ya’ mean that little hunk of hollowed-out rock up there? Sure, I know plenty ‘bout it!”

Spinel takes a breath. Yawning with growing fatigue, Stevonnie takes a moment to get more comfy upon the ground, nestling their head upon their backpack.  

They close their eyes and listen in respectful silence as their friend begins her account.

“About seven thousand, eight hundred years ago it was one of Blue Diamond’s colonies, in the height of Homeworld’s expansion. Psarius V, they called it! Used to orbit a gigantic gas planet, all blue and green swirls... I never visited much, just once or twice with Pink, but... oh, it was so beautiful! So full of life! All the flowers and shrubs in the garden, they came from that moon’s surface. Before the colonization finished, of course.

“And then the garden? Blue built this as a gift to Pink! Y’see, they sliced the moon into fragments when they hollowed it out to make more Gems. All the hunks that weren’t useful to Homeworld were left behind. But Blue Diamond is so merciful and giving, and doesn’t like wasting a single scrap of resource if she doesn’t have to. So she found a way to make this hunk useful instead. And now it’s a special place just for Pink and I, a place where we can play!”

The Gem gives a long, sad sigh, but to their ears it’s as if the sound of it is a world away.

“I love it here. I really do. I only wish… everything looked as beautiful as it once did.”

Their breathing slows to a quiet lull.

“And that there were more games to play…”

Spinel’s words dancing like the gentle brush of rose petals upon on their mind, Stevonnie finally drifts away into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

“Spinel?”

“Hmm??”

“How about we play a new game? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?"

The little Gem gasps and lets go of their hands, her heart shaped buns bobbling up and down as she wiggles in her excitement. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES! Anything for you!”

Light shines upon their playmate’s gemstone amidst her celebration, various colors caught or scattered by its complex faceting. Warm pink, so different in hue from the lush, breathy greens of this garden. So different from the watery blues, or the bright yellows found within the flowers’ pollen.

Swallowing back a shard of frustration, they drop to their knees before her. Glances down so as to meet her eyes. They feign a smile anyways. 

“Here, I’ll show you how it’s done…”

Spinel grins, wholly content in her purpose to play and serve as she waits for instruction on this game.

“Stand very still… yes, perfect, just like that! Hands clasped in front of you. And don’t forget that lovely smile,” they say, reaching forward to tap her button nose with the tip of their gloved finger.

“Oh, this’ll be so much fun,” she enthuses, bouncing on her feet, “I can just feel it!”

They place their hands on their knees and slowly push themself back to their full height, towering over the Gem. 

“I’ll be back… soon. The game is simple, just stand here until I return, and if you’re still in place when I see you, you win!”

She giggles, eyes glittering. “Pshhh, that’ll be so easy!” she says, gaily swinging her clasped hands back and forth. “I could stand here forever and ever without moving, there’s no way I’ll ever lose!”

They laugh. It’s quiet, tinged with uneasiness at the edges. Their eyes stray from the other Gem’s, fixing instead upon one of the tiny organic creatures that was transferred along with the plants in this garden, the winged being fluttering aimlessly in the empty air above Spinel’s head.

“Yes, you’ve gotten very good at our games, haven’t you?” Slowly, subtly, their fists close at their side. “Well, I’d best be off. I wouldn’t want to leave my new world waiting, of course.”

“Have fun!” she chimes. She almost unfolds her hands to wave, but can’t quite bring herself to break the rules of the game.

They turn on their heels, the warp pad’s platform looming in their view. Pink flats, each shoe adorned with a floating white ball as decoration, move forwards with each step. Their smile fades further and further from them as they climb the steps and reach the top… as they look behind one last time, seeing the spinel standing upright and alone in the central courtyard of their garden, so, so obedient.

“Goodbye,” they whisper in a low voice, the words having a sense of irrefutable finality to them.

The warp pad activates in a flash, enveloping them in a column of light and carrying them off.

Moving to reach to their own gem— at their navel— they pull an item out. It’s flat, diamond shaped, and made of the most blemish-less crystal any of Gemkind could dream to provide. They quickly tap in their code, and press their fingertips against an icon on the screen.

Inhaling slowly, they bring the communication device closer to their lips.

“Yellow, Blue,” they say in a flat tone, just loud enough to eclipse the ambient ring of a trip through the warp stream. “I’m ready.”

They catch a glimpse of their reflection in the shiny crystal, just for a split second, but a split second is all they need to see her. A tall, fluffy mane of light pink hair. Full lips. Pink rimmed diamond shaped pupils black as the dead of space.

Caught amidst the hypnotizing throes of what they now realize must be a dream, Stevonnie stares into the heart of the looking glass, and Pink Diamond herself stares back.

“I’m on my way to Earth.”

Chapter Text

Stevonnie wakes up swinging.

No amount of attempted self restraint can quell their shriek of alarm. They thrash wildly under the cover of their blanket, kicking it off in mere seconds. Inside their chest, their heart hammers like Garnet’s gauntlets against stone. Th-the… whatever it is they just witnessed, they…

Those eyes… stars, the intensity of those eyes! 

Pink rimmed, inky black diamond pupils…

“Have fun!” Spinel chimes with an unwitting smile stitched upon her face, watching that twisted matriarch of Homeworld walk away forever.

The fusion clamps their hands tight to their head, feeling close to drowning under the weight of these unwanted flashbacks.

“Steven, what was that!?” they cry out.

“Diamond dreams,” they breathe in response, sensing their components growing distinct within their psyche again, Steven and Connie’s dissonant thoughts jumbling around freely alongside their own. “I’m having diamond dreams again!”

They suddenly feel faint, overstrung, like a length of taffy being pulled into two. The gem at their navel faintly glows. Riding the wave of instability, they grit their teeth.

Please, not now, not this, I don’t want to come apart, I’m not ready, I’m not—

“Hey, are you falling into pieces over there?” a concerned voice calls from the other side of the broken pillar. “Don’t worry, your dear ol’ friend Spinel is here to hold you together!”

Accompanied by peels of youthful laughter, (probably the most laughter they’ve heard out of her yet), a pair of arms stretch up and over the ruins with the flexibility of a water hose, and wrap around their midsection three times in seconds flat. It’s enough of a startle to knock them out of their headspace and back into reality.

The choppy waters of memory recede. Slowly but surely they begin to regain their balance, feeling the dependable foundation blocks of their existence— Steven and Connie’s fathomless love and trust for one another— slot neatly back into place. Indomitable, they are. Even by nightmares. They heave a sigh of sheer relief. Or at least, as deep a sigh as they can muster while tied up in the embrace of their stretchy armed friend.

Still working to ease the tempo of their frantic breath, practically panting, they pat softly at Spinel’s arms. It’s a signal for her to let go, one that she surprisingly takes with grace. Who knows? Perhaps she can kinda sense the fraught mood.

Stevonnie follows her retracting arms around the edge of the garden ruins, returning to that central clearing where Spinel stands upright and erect, her feet imprisoned by the very wildlife she once adored with all her existence. The pink Gem’s eyes meet with theirs.

“Stevonnie?” she asks, desperately clinging to this chipper attitude even in the sight of their clear distress. “What’s wrong?”