Disclaimer: I don't own Steven Universe!

Title: Whispering Wounds

Summary: Pearl and Garnet fought in the Vietnam War. Amethyst is a refugee who came over years ago. Steven is the son of the General who hooked them up. Connie was in a bad fire as a small child. All of them have scars; all of them have gravitated towards each other.

Warnings: Mentions of wounds, fire, missing limbs, etc.

(This is what I like to call me and my comrade (PandoraTheFangirlQueen) like to call our Whispering Wounds AU. I figured this was the best way to introduce it!)

...

Pearl always seems tired to Connie, no matter what it is she's doing. Talking, baking, knitting- even the light of battle in her eyes looks sleepy.

That's not to say she sleeps bad. No, far from it. She simply never rests, clawing at invisible attackers in her dreams, and therefore lacks the energy in her day-to-day endeavors.

She's offered to take lessons elsewhere, but all that does is bring a frenzy of panic to her eyes. Pearl's knuckles go white with self-restraint as she shakily reminds her of how protective her parents are, of how they had taken so much convincing even for a local woman to teach her swordfighting.

Like she doesn't remember. Like every glance in the mirror isn't full of memories.

Connie doesn't mind her appearance, per say. More like she's resigned to it. She'd never considered herself pretty, even before the fire- she hadn't considered herself much of anything, at a whopping three or four years old- and she's well aware that Steven thinks she's beautiful. He's told her that plenty of times. She knows she fits in rather well amongst the war oddities of the Universe household- like a match next to burnt candles.

It's the fact that, to strangers, her form is something horrific that eats at her.

Even now, Connie isn't ugly. She lost her left eye, yes, and that side of her face is puffy and dry with scars. The other side is decent, with some lumps from skin grafts. Two middle fingers and an index gone. Surgery scars on her legs; a mild burn on her hip. That's not ugly. That's a body that was literally pitched into flames in its infancy and is healing. It's the idea that some consider healing to be disturbing that concerns her.

She feels anxious, nervous. Learning self-defense is helping to take the edge off it, but it's not like you can really cut a flame with a knife. She's just not ready for therapy yet.

Pearl isn't either, although she's been discharged for years. Maybe one day they could have group sessions together.

If Pearl is always tired, then Garnet never relaxes. Every training session they return to find her waiting on the porch, arms crossed. Once they appear, she's on her feet, giving warm greetings and whisking away things that need carrying.

Connie doesn't think she's ever seen her sleep.

The light of the house is easily Amethyst. The small woman settled into the role of housewife not long after Steven had been born, and had taken dominion over it rather quickly. Her definition of it was a loose one; she abhorred cleaning, and she didn't do much in terms of everyday affairs like grocery shopping- she shied away from it, really- but the woman cooked a mean meal, and she was a constant source of comfort in Steven's life, second only to Sapphire.

Speaking of, the woman gave her a cool nod as she begrudgingly took a stack of cards from her pupil. "Tarot cards aren't for you."

"But you bought me a deck and everything!" Steven whined. "I'd hate for it to go to waste."

"It wasn't a waste. It was an experiment." She murmured firmly. "Hello, Pearl. Sorry if I'm intruding."

"No, no." Pearl sighs. She slumps over in the nearest bar seat and watches Amethyst bustle about.

"Hey, Connie!" Steven looks like the real oddity, with his smooth skin, but Connie knows better. She's seen the inner workings on his mind, his psyche, from when he travels her way accidentally in his sleep. "Did you win?"

"We weren't fighting competitively this time." Connie shoots a glance at Sapphire, who nods. She sits down.

Amethyst is a force of nature in the body of a small Vietnamese woman as she set a bowl of stew in front of Pearl. "Eat."

Pearl shook her head. She looks bone-tired and frail. "I'm not hungry."

"Eat it or get outta my house." Amethyst replied bluntly. "This is my dinner, and you're in my place. Food. Now."

There's a long sigh of defeat, but it's a pleasant one. Pearl takes the stew and ladles out a spoon.

Amethyst nods smugly. Her crooked arm, curled across her chest all small and somewhat useless, only makes her seem more powerful. "All of you now. G, Ste-man, Connie, Sapphire; if there's anything left in this pot I'mma go back to bags of chips and pop for meals. I ain't a maid."

Steven giggles. Amethyst has been feeding him since he was old enough for solids. He knows she'll always keep him well-fed. Pearl and Garnet are another matter, and Connie who is allowed to scrounge as she pleases. They all settle in to eat, save for Amethyst, who eats standing up.

It's been a good day.

Author's Note: This is more or less a bit of fun with the character, getting used to the style of this universe, etc. etc. Everybody has a backstory, everybody is in pain, everybody gets a bit of stew. That's legit the whole 'fic.

-Mandaree1