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“Death Valley? That doesn’t sound like a very safe place to camp.”
Steven laughs; it’s dark out, wherever he is. Some kind of desert. The soft light of a campfire, just off screen, dances around Steven’s face, exaggerating the corners of his smile. “You’d think so, with a name like that. But actually there are a lot of really popular campsites around here.” He leans back on the sleeping bag he’s rolled out, the picture of relaxation. “Actually I met a really nice couple at the next site over, they came to photograph the stars out here.”
The video calls had started at the suggestion of Steven’s therapist--a way for him to get to know his ‘extended family’ of quartzes and stay connected to people while on the road. And, ideally, to have a somewhat neutral party to talk about, well--
Well. They mostly dance around the subject. But that’s fine.
At first all of the rose quartzes had been excited to join in--Steven is still a celebrity in gem circles, even if he denies it--so much so that the early calls mostly consisted of quartzes enthusiastically yelling over one another in an attempt to gain Steven’s undivided attention, to the point where he rarely got a word in edgewise. But as time went on, interest (and attention spans) waned, until most calls were like this, just Steven and Rose chatting quietly.
It’s...nice. To talk. Rose might even go so far as to say they’re becoming friends--they’re friendly now, at least.
Steven suddenly sits up a little straighter and clears his throat. “Um, this is unrelated, but can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“It’s about...mom?” His voice cracks; he clears his throat again. “If that’s okay?”
Oh. Rose nods, slowly. “...Okay.”
“Do you...are people ever mean to you?” Steven asks; then clarifies, after a beat, “Because you look like her.”
Rose frowns, looking down at her lap. “I mean...not really, at least on the ship.” The zoomans didn’t even know about gemkind as a whole, or that they had lived for hundreds of generations in what was essentially a glorified prison, until recently--let alone the rebellion. Most of the other quartzes onboard never even fought in the war to begin with, shuffled off as the embarrassing byproducts of Pink Diamond’s failed colony.
Rose cuts her eyes back up to Steven. “...Though I can tell it makes some people uncomfortable.” She shoots him a self conscious little smile.
Steven goes pale, and then laughs shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah...haha, yeah. Sorry about that still.”
“It’s okay.” And it is.
Another beat; white noise from the commlink hums in the background. “Can I ask you another question?”
Rose nods.
“Do you, uh--do you hate her? For everything she did?”
Rose watches as Steven brings a hand down to touch his belly, right where his gem rests. Unconsciously, she mirrors him, hands folding around her own gem in its identical placement.
She must take too long to answer; on the other side of the screen Steven grimaces, lifting his hands. “Sorry, that’s--you don’t have to answer that.”
“No!” Too fast, too loud--Steven flinches away from the screen. “No,” she repeats, quieter. They’re separated by thousands of miles but Rose still pulls back, tries to make herself as small as possible. “It’s fine. It’s just--complicated.” Because of course it is.
“I know…” Rose pauses, still trying to find her words. “I know Rose Quartz was trying to do something good. Make things better. But...she left such a mess behind. When I see all the people she hurt--”
Rose catches her reflection in the window of the ship. She’s started crying, she realizes. Embarrassed, she scrubs her eyes with the back of her hand, wraps the other around her waist and holds herself tight; it feels like she might drift away if something isn’t pinning her down.
Her head dips. “...it makes it hard to look in the mirror sometimes, I guess.”
“...That’s fair.” Steven says after a moment. He sounds strained.
“Do you hate her?” She has to ask it--doesn’t really want to know the answer, can already guess what he’ll say, but--
Steven grimaces again. “That’s--well--”
“Complicated?”
“Ha.” Bitter. “Yeah.”
Rustling from the other end of the line as Steven adjusts his sleeping bag. Rose lets her gaze drift to the skyline behind him; the stars in the video projection line up almost perfectly with her view outside. She tries to imagine the two of them sitting together, side by side.
Steven clears his throat. “There was a time I wanted to be just like her...I grew up hearing all these stories from dad, and the Gems, about what a perfect, wonderful person she was. That I reminded them so much of her. But it...got to the point where I was afraid to be, like, myself, y’know? Because...because well, who would want Steven over The Rose Quartz!”
He sighs, bites the inside of his cheek. “And I know, now, that they all just really missed her. They didn’t mean to make me feel like that. And they didn’t understand. But…”
Rose starts when Steven suddenly throws his hands up, a deep scowl lining his face. “And then it was all a lie! She wasn’t even who she said she was!” He’s standing now, sleeping bag thrown to the side as he paces around the campsite.
Rose Quartz pulls her knees to her chest, watching him. The floaty feeling comes back tenfold; like if she let herself go she would drift right through the ship and out into space.
But Steven’s still going.
“She just lied! To everyone! And then left us all to pick up the pieces.” Steven wanders back into view. His face is pinched tight and--sad. Just so sad. “Sometimes it felt like she didn’t even care about what would happen to everyone after she was gone. Like they-- we --didn’t matter at all.
“But then, on Homeworld...I saw--” Steven cuts himself short, brows furrowing. He rubs a hand over his mouth and seems to think better of whatever he was about to say. “I understand why she did it. Everything. Why she ran away from the Diamonds and then...ran away from everything else.” He takes a deep breath. And then, in an incredibly small voice: “And...I know she loved me.”
Oh. Oh.
“So,” Steven laughs, a little watery. “To make a long story short, I don’t...think I hate her. Not really.”
Rose touches her gem again. Her chest feels tight. “Can I ask you another question?”
“Sure.”
“Do you think you could ever forgive her?”
Steven’s mouth twists. Slowly he sits back down, pulling his legs up to rest his chin on his knees. “Maybe, one day.” He says, in that small voice from before. “What about you? Do you think you could forgive her?”
No. She wants to say. Yes. Never. Rose looks past Steven, to her reflection standing behind him, like some pale ghost. It stares back at her with wide, dark eyes. Finally, she settles on; “...I’d like to. Someday.”
When she looks back at Steven she’s surprised to find him scrubbing at his eyes. “Sorry for bringing down the mood, haha.”
“Don’t be, please! Thank you,” she wets her lips. “For talking with me. Really.”
He gives her a little half moon smile. Rose tries her best to return it--she hopes it fills him up with the same steadying feeling.
“You know,” Steven sniffs, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He sounds a little brighter. “Just the other day my therapist recommended some books about uh, forgiveness, and self compassion. Maybe weeee could read them together?” He ducks his head. “If you want.”
“Okay.” Don’t cry Rose. Her vision blurs at the edges. “That would be nice.”