She remembers him, the black figure with a painted face, green and red pins poised high up in the air.
He remembers her, the quick flash of olive in his peripheral, glinting claws ready to strike.
She remembers Equius, her best friend, with his own brother's stolen arrow protruding from his leg, and large, hard hands wrapped around his throat.
He remembers the blueblood, his prey, gasping and writhing while his powerful hands squeezed the life out of him.
She remembers the terror and panic.
He remembers the strength.
She remembers her body moving into desperate action.
He remembers the force that plowed him to the side, forcing his grip to become limp.
She remembers her flash of relief when Equius fell to the ground, finally able to breathe.
He remembers his shock momentarily freezing him at the sight of her small frame straddling his.
She remembers the instinct, the pounding in her head of danger, yet her body froze up when she should have been pouncing away from him.
He remembers anger coursing through him, his hand grasping for one of his pins, then flying into wrathful action.
She remembers pain exploding in her cheek when cold, hard plastic launched her away with alarming force and into the concrete ground.
He remembers the power returning to him as he stood and walked over to her fallen figure.
She remembers a cold something pooling in her stomach, and the loud crack of his weapon coming down on her shoulder swiftly.
He remembers how sloppy yet still powerful his attacks became, bashing at the demon's body several times, even though no sound erupted from her delicate throat.
She remembers the sudden jolt inside of her, her leg acting out on its own and catching him in the gut long enough for her to regain what little strength she had left and tackle him to the ground.
He remembers being plowed to the floor again, this time not having the advantage of her shock.
She remembers knowing that her energy was limited, and that she needed to get away fast.
He remembers his eyes widening in confusion as she raised her arm into the air.
She remembers the power and swiftness she put into scraping her claws across his face.
He remembers screaming out.
She remembers shivering at his insane cries.
He remembers the stinging pain, even as the weight of her body left his.
She remembers Equius finally moving, picking her up without a word and simply running in the opposite direction.
He remembers Karkat's shouts at seeing his friend's writhing figure on the floor, before he felt Karkat's small and warm hands cradle his face, trying to hold him still.
She remembers quickly pulling the arrow from Equius's leg, then staring at the bruises on her own body, unable to look away.
He remembers Jane telling him that he'd always have these scars.
Even now, when she closes her eyes, she can still picture that dark predator and his marred face.
And he can still picture the gleam of her claws, behind them the terrified yet defiant eyes of the demon.
So, this was the time when Gamzee and Nepeta (and Equius) had that takes place in 2007. Nepeta gave Gamzee his scars, although they were not self-inflicted. I guess, in a way, it scarred Nepeta as well. I'm not sure if I was able to really show that this was traumatizing to Nepeta, or if I was able to portray Gamzee's insanity.