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you watch as the bubble catches the light of the temple heart, and you can't help but think that bismuth always loved to be seen, always wanted attention.
it was maybe the worst thing rose could have done to her, hiding her away as if she were some shameful thing, but you understand why she did it. steven says that bismuth said that he was better than rose, and you won't think it, you won't.
you think that garnet is crying. you can't tell.
that night, you sit in the water and pretend that it is lava.
"pearl," you hear bismuth saying. "bring me a sword." it is a joke between the two of you and you love her for it, how she never acted like your backstory was something to be overcome. you can be proud of who you are, who you were. "pearl," she says, "bring me a sword," and you delight in saying no.
you bring her one anyway. you pull a sword from beneath the fountain and run your hand over it. it is cool and smooth and elegantly designed. it belonged to tigereye you think, and you hate that you aren't sure. you should be sure. you should know these swords better than you will ever know yourself.
bismuth is gone, but for just a moment she was there again, ready with hugs and laughter and continuous reminders of how amazing you can be. you loved bismuth and you love her now, and you will always love her.
"i remember making this one," bismuth says, touching the sword. "gave me a run for my money."
you think she would like the way you take care of the weapons, almost religiously. they belong to other fallen comrades, but they were hers, first and foremost, and if you squint you can see the molten iron spinning through her fingers.
she probably didn't make all these swords, but then again, bismuth was something amazing, something unstoppable.
you could've prevented it, maybe. you considered yourself very close to her, but you're learning that you weren't really as close to gems as you thought you were, so maybe not. everyone loved bismuth, and you- you were no exception.
did she talk to everyone the way she talked to you? did she lower her voice to a whisper each night to a different gem? did she confess a thousand times over?
she can't have.
"pearl," bismuth says. "did you ever want to shatter anyone?"
you run your hand over one of the swords, again and again. you like to think that you didn't because you could have, maybe. you were so, so good with all your weapons. you could have run each of these into a gem, listened for the sweetly sickening crack of death. you didn't, so you must have not wanted to, you must have.
"pearl," bismuth says, and she sounds like your diamond- no, white diamond, she was not yours and you were not hers- "you never ever wanted to shatter anyone?"
faces blur together, faces with sneers and anger- no, disgust. disgust at the pearl who thought she could fight.
you open your mouth to say something- maybe yes, after so long saying no- but you close it again. you don't need to say anything. bismuth knows.
there were days when you wanted to shatter them all.
you didn't act on it, which is why you are not bubbled. is that the only reason? if you had been made a different gem, raised in slightly different circumstances, or encouraged enough by rose to be loud, to have opinions, would you have ended up like her?
you were always too meek, always too quiet.
"the pearl i know would never have jumped into my arms!" bismuth says and from here, it sounds more like a taunt than anything.
you have changed so much in the last five thousand years. if you went back to the rebellion now, would you have shattered gems, confident enough to do so? would you have refrained, whether because of your own twisted, foggy morals or because rose was always right there?
you don't know and you hate that.
you show bismuth an axe. it's pretty, glinting in the cool light of your room.
"everyone said that one was too decorative to be useful," bismuth says. "man, it showed them!"
you shiver. the parallel could not have been unintentional.
what if bismuth had found you? did it all just boil down to loyalty, in the end? rose won. rose would always win, but what if she hadn't?
five thousand years later, and you still can't be sure if you ever had opinions for yourself.
"i like this one," you whisper, proffering another sword to bismuth. "did you make this one?"
"i made all of them," bismuth says and then, quieter, "i like that one too."
she would have loved the temple. she would have loved steven, more than she already did. bismuth had so much love in her, and it feels impossible to you that so much hate and anger could have coexisted.
the crystal gems were about love. they were about hope.
"nobody is more crystal gem than i am!" bismuth says, except she says it in steven's voice because steven was the one who told them about it.
which one? which one?
they could not have all loved so deeply and dearly as rose. they all must have hated, at least a little bit. the crystal gems must have been such an amalgamation of anger and resentment all festering together and how was it that rose kept them all so-
so what? in line? in love?
"what do you think, pearl?" bismuth says. rose says it, too.
"i don't know," you say. you don't feel like you know anything, anymore.
you need more time when the world has been pulled out from under you. there has been so little time for you to orient yourself.
you stand. bismuth disappears, as do her swords.
garnet thinks that it is acceptable to not know. in times of uncertainty, you have always gone to garnet.