I DO NOT OWN STEVEN UNIVERSE

Cute one-shot I'd been planning to do since the Stevebomb 2.0 set off. I realize the writing style changes mid-story and that is completely intentional. Thanks.

It's the way Pearl stares at him like he is one of his father's vintage vinyls that he absolutely mustn't touch. It's how she no longer sings loudly as she cleans around the house. It's the way she looks like she's mentally slapping herself every time she ruffles his hair or comes too close. It's how Steven knows something is wrong.

Steven does not like it.

He confronts Pearl as she makes him lunch. Turkey with lettuce and cheese on wheat.

Steven: "Uh- Pearl? I've got to ask you something."

She freezes. The split-second tense of her muscles is so slight, so minute, that Steven would not have noticed it had he not been watching closely for her reaction. She drags the silverware drawer open and slips out a butter knife. Pearl doesn't turn around to meet Steven's eye.

Pearl: "You want the bread toasted, yes?"

Steven gives a grunt of affirmation before trying to redirect the train conversation back on the right tracks.

Steven: "Pearl, is something... Wrong?"

Pearl laughs. It's so forced, that even she cringes upon hearing it.

Pearl: "Of course not, Steven."

Steven bites his lip.

Steven: "Are you sure? Because you're acting kind of weirdly lately."

Pearl: "Weird how."

Steven almost flinches at her flat tone of voice. It's almost like she's challenging him. Challenging him to read her mind and fix this problem before the frayed wire snaps. She's begging him through her pride. But Steven can't read minds, and so he doesn't know what Pearl needs to hear. So instead, he is left with two options. A) tell Pearl that he was joking and pretend like nothing is wrong. And B) answer the question.

Steven does not lie to his loved ones. He refuses to let this problem fester into an epidemic.

Steven: "Well lately you've been tiptoeing around me and acting like I'm not even there. You don't even fold my clothes in the same room as me anymore."

He wants to say much more, but he stops himself at that.

Pearl stiffens, and for a second as she turns around to deliver him his lunch, it seems as if she knows exactly what he's talking about. It's the momentary flash of murky emotions on her face that tells Steven that she knows.

Pearl: "I don't know what you're talking about. Eat up your lunch- we have training in a half hour."

She almost ruffles his hair like she did so often in the good old days. Steven dares her to run her spiderlike fingers through his mop of curly hair. But she stops herself midway and retreats to her room instead. Steven sighs. He can't enjoy his sandwich because it tastes like wet newspaper. He eats it anyways. He owes Pearl that, at least.

It's the way Pearl forces herself into his room and sits right next to him as she folds his clothing- rigid and like an ungreased machine. It's how she makes a show of acknowledging him as he walks through any point in her line of vision. It's the way her smile seems shakier than the San Andreas fault that tells Steven that she is faking it.

She must think that if she overdoes all of Steven's previous grievances, then she will seem normal again. But if Steven is honest with himself, he will admit that she's acting stranger than ever. It's concerning. He doesn't think she's acting healthy.

Steven is afraid that this will slip through his fingers and spiral out of control. He is afraid that Pearl will reduce herself to a robot with the sole functionality of saying his name as he walks past. He talks to her again as he catches her late at night escaping from her room. She looks weathered and beaten.

As soon as she sees Steven, however, all her weariness seems to fade instantly. This does not comfort Steven, as it seems like her physical merits of exhaustion disappear in a glitch. He can still see how glassy her eyes are, however. She can't glitch away those expressive blue open books.

Pearl: "Steven! It's awfully late... What are you doing?"

Steven: "Uh, me? Oh. Haha- I'm just getting a snack..."

Pearl has never made him nervous, but looking at her now- he feels shivers ripple up his spine. She looks like she's made of cheaply painted plastic. She's as flawless as a doll, and as fake as one too.

Pearl: "Want me to make you something?"

Steven: "No... I-I'm good. I'm just gonna get some chips."

Pearl rolls her eyes.

Pearl: "Midnight snacking is tremendously unhealthy."

Steven smiles, because even though it seems as if she's repeating pre-set phrases, she is at least repeating one that almost sounds like her.

Steven: "It's a human thing."

Silence. And then-

Steven: "So... What are you doing up?"

Pearl: "Gems don't need sleep."

Steven knows she is hiding something. He is teetering on the edge of his own devices. How frustrating she is right now- telling the doctor she is sick and not explaining what hurts!

Steven: "Pearl, is something wrong?"

Pearl freezes. This time, it's obvious.

Pearl: "Why? Have I been acting strange again? What have I been doing wrong?"

Steven doesn't want to trap them in a game of say-and-do. He knows if he explains what she has been doing, she will do the opposite and they will be back at square one.

Instead, Steven puts down his chips and walks forward to meet Pearl. He can see how nervous she looks, and so he takes his last few steps as if he is closing the gap between he and a frightened animal. He gently wraps his arms around her hips and presses his face into her leg. Her skin is cold- like his marble countertop.

Steven: "Pearl, you have to tell me what's wrong. Please. I hate seeing you like this. I just-"

He clenches his fingers tightly. Pearl winces.

Steven: "- I can't take this anymore! Please, Pearl! I can't read minds! I can't tell you what you need to hear until you tell me why you need to hear it!"

Pearl looks like she had been slapped hard across the face. She covers her open jaw with her shaking hands. Slowly, she bends down until she's at eye level with Steven. He's crying. Not hard, or loud, or obnoxiously- the tears are silent and fat as they roll down his pink skin.

Pearl stares for a moment. Then she talks. She doesn't repeat a scripted phrase. She doesn't pretend like she's okay. She talks.

"Steven," Pearl traces his tears with her fingertips and wipes them away. "Steven, I'm so sorry."

Steven doesn't want to beat around the bush anymore either. He just wants to have this. He wants this real conversation with his real Pearl. He just wants to talk.

"I just don't know what I'm doing wrong!" Steven whimpers.

Pearl's eyebrows shoot up. "Nothing! You're not doing anything wrong. This is my fault, alright? Mine. Understood?" He nods. She ruffles his hair instinctively and plucks him from the ground, carrying him to his loft bed and lying down on the soft mattress with him in her arms. "I just..."

Steven knits his brows. "You just what?"

There's a long silence as Pearl tries to gather the right words in her head to explain everything, but she comes short. Only four words escape her lips.

"Steven, am I bad?" She asks, and she takes a heavy breath because those words tear her up inside. He shouldn't see her like this.

"Bad? At what?" Steven asks.

"At being a substitute. For Rose," Pearl whispers. She restates quietly: "am I a bad mother?" Suddenly, her perfect facade fades and Steven sees her. The real her.

Steven finally understands. He pulls her into a hug and jams his face into the crook of her neck. "Never," he says, with such vitriol that Pearl feels his rumbling voice in her chest.

"Steven, I've made so many mistakes..." Pearl whispers, staring up at the ceiling.

"So have I. So has everybody. Rose probably made just as many mistakes as you," Steven snaps, pushing himself up to look Pearl in the eyes. And Pearl is shocked because he has never called her 'Rose' before. "You're not bad, Pearl. And you're not nothing."

He settles besides her again and sighs. "You're... You're my mom. And I think you're pretty great."

Pearl reluctantly agrees, and although her heart's not in it now, Steven knows it will be eventually. She just needs time.

"So," Steven manages a weak smile. "Can I call you 'mom' now?"

Pearl squints, trying to figure out if he's joking. He snickers.

"Just 'Pearl' is fine," she decides.

"Yeah, I like Pearl better, too."

And it's the way she runs her fingers through his hair without thinking about it. It's the way she laughs at all of his dumb jokes as if every word is the punchline. It's the way she beams with pride every time he says her name because he says it like it's the second Sunday of May. It's how Steven knows that Pearl will be just fine.

The second Sunday of May is better known as Mother's day.