Work Text:
A soft tune lilted in the air, electronic backing betraying its source. Greg's van was fairly old by human standards, so it wasn't much of a surprise. Pearl wasn't all too familiar with the intricacies of his radio, but she assumed the faint interference was a given with such technology. It was the same with Homeworld's communication devices, even as far back as the Wailing Stones.
She never could've imagined doing this when she first met Greg. An upstart looking for his foothold in the world, stumbling and unsure and the source of constant vexations. Rose had loved that in him. Pearl had hated it. But here they were, sitting on the beach, driver's side door open to let them hear the old radio more clearly.
Pearl would hesitate to call it comfortable. There were still so many things left unsaid, years of resentment and misunderstandings and shared grief that one good talk couldn't fix right away. As much as Steven liked to think so. But it was nice. That constant on-edge feeling she had around Greg was mostly gone, flightiness traded out for something solid and heavy, and more than a little complicated.
"I really am sorry," Pearl apologized plainly. "For always being so... rude to you. It wasn't your fault I was upset. Not really." It was all the humans before Greg, the constant disregard Rose had shown for Pearl's feelings through her revolving door of human partners over the years, that made her so bitter and jaded. None of that was helped by Pearl's general disdain for humans as a whole. She never really understood what Rose saw in them - she still didn't.
"It's okay, I get it," Greg sighed, rubbing his head. "Rose was a lot of things, but good at understanding how she affected other people wasn't one of them." It stung to hear, but rang true in Pearl's mind. "I know she did her best, but that doesn't mean that she still didn't hurt you." He paused. "Hurt us, I guess."
Pearl couldn't find anything to say to that. He was right, of course. If there was anyone else alive on this planet that knew Rose half as well as Pearl did, it was Greg. It came with the territory of being an object of her affections. For all the good she did, for how kind and magnanimous and relenting she could be, Rose stubbornly refused to see the things she didn't want to look at.
"You know," Greg continued, "I really should've realized it sooner. How you felt, I mean." Pearl stiffened. Greg glanced sideways at her. "I was just some stupid college drop-out who thought he was ahead of the times, but I couldn't see how you looked at her." He shook his head. "No, I saw. I just didn't want to. If I'd let myself see it..." He chuckled weakly. "I would've backed off in a heartbeat. At least, I'd like to think so."
"Greg, that isn't your fault," Pearl stated firmly, surprising herself with the surety she felt. "Rose was the one who kept falling for humans left and right. I told her a few times that I wasn't comfortable with it, but she couldn't help herself. You know how she was." They exchanged a knowing, tired look. "After a while, I stopped saying anything. I thought I could wait for her interest to die out, that she'd always come back to me in the end..."
"But she didn't," Greg somberly finished. Pearl looked away, hugging her knees to her chest. No, instead of coming back, Rose had decided to go away forever. She made herself right at home in Pearl's heart, flattered her with praise and adoration, then turned around and willingly executed her own death. It was morbidly poetic. They'd faked her death so long ago, but only at that moment did she deign to truly follow through.
"...And now we have Steven," Pearl whispered with finality. She fought to steady her voice, rubbing at her eyes discreetly. Something told her that Greg noticed anyway, but he didn't say a word about it. "He's a wonderful kid. I can see exactly why Rose wanted to have him every day. He resembles her in so many ways, it's uncanny. But other times, he's so much himself that I can't imagine life without him around anymore."
"But he's not Rose," Greg remarked. He reached over, hand outstretched, and hesitated only a moment before laying it on Pearl's shoulder. "Don't get me wrong, I love Steven with all my heart. He's really the best kid I could ever ask for. But that doesn't stop me from missing Rose. It was something I had to teach myself, the first few years after he was born. Missing her doesn't mean that you love him any less."
Such a simple assurance, yet it hit Pearl like a ton of bricks. Tears pricked at her eyes and she fought to wipe them away before they fell. Still, they streamed down her cheeks despite her efforts, dripping onto the sand below. It wasn't long before she could no longer hold back her sniffles, and once she hit that point, she was already softly crying.
Greg pulled her towards him, wrapping his arm around her in a side hug. She didn't turn to him, but she leaned into the embrace. His warmth was comforting, grounding. If she pretended, she could probably delude herself into imagining that his scratchy, overgrown hair was actually a swath of giant ringlets. That the arms around her were cooler, but sturdier. Tough in a way human flesh couldn't be. But she didn't give in to the fantasy, as tempting as it was.
The song on the radio switched abruptly, shifting from a serenade to something more upbeat. The resulting change in the atmosphere was sudden, but it did halt Pearl's tears momentarily. Wiping her eyes, she rose, pulling out of Greg's awkward hold. She turned back to him and held out a hand. He stared at it, eyebrows drawn in confusion. Pearl quirked a trembling smile.
"May I... have this dance?" All at once, Greg's eyes went wide in shock. An invitation. For humans, it was of very little importance. A fun social activity, maybe. A way to impress a potential partner. But it had a whole different meaning for gems. Surely Greg could recall the last time he'd danced with a gem on this beach? Pearl certainly did. The memory was etched into her very gemstone, the final nail in the coffin on her and Rose's future together.
"I... Pearl," Greg's voice turned wholly earnest in a way she couldn't recall hearing in... years. "It would be my pleasure." He placed his hand in hers, accepting her request. She helped him keep his balance as he rose off of the ground. Neither were sure where to put their hands or what to do at all, really. Greg ended up grasping Pearl's right hand with one of his own and putting the other on her waist. Pearl put her free hand on his shoulder.
Then, smooth as the surface of the ocean, the two were off. Their steps were unpracticed, uncertain, but together in that newness. They stumbled with each other, they tried and failed and tried again. It didn't matter that the song eventually ended, swapping over to some rock and roll tune. It didn't matter that they were getting further and further from the van, music growing quieter. With the stars as their witnesses, Pearl and Greg danced. Together.