A/N: Oh boy, who's ready for some more feelings?

Since chapter 21 was published a few weeks ago, I figure I should mention that the opening flashback is a time-skipped continuation of the brief snippet of a flashback Catra fought off last chapter. It came back for her when she was defenseless in her sleep. On that note,

CONTENT WARNING for some rather cringe-inducing physical child abuse in the opening flashback. It's not the most violent we've seen in this story but the accompanying psychological stuff makes it… extremely uncomfortable. I will leave a detailed trigger warning in the end notes.

"I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry!"

The current surged stronger and Catra cried out, her body seizing. She collapsed forward from her knees, face-planting on the prison cot. Shadow Weaver's binding magic caused more discomfort than pain at a base level but, as Catra had just learned, she could dial it up to pure agony if she was feeling particularly cruel, or proving a point. Or both.

Catra had no one but herself to blame for her current state. She knew better than to show any hint of defiance with Shadow Weaver, but had been waylaid by her own stubbornness and pride. Again. These were the fruits of her less than enthusiastic apology. The second beating, amplified by convulsing muscles and inflamed skin threatening to burst with every blow. The relentless current still coursing through her body, rendering her defenseless and making every nerve in her body scream. It was cold but it burned, it burned unbearably.

Struggling to catch her breath, Catra gasped, "Please stop, please. I'll be better, I'll-"

A red ring of magic enclosed her lips and snapped them shut, stopping her mid-babble. "Enough of your whining," huffed Shadow Weaver, her squeezing fist sending another torrent of magic coursing through the child at her feet. "You had your chance to talk."

With a flick of her wrist Shadow Weaver dispelled the magic binding Catra's lips, allowing her screams to permeate the cell unimpeded. Catra couldn't talk now even if she wanted to, too busy fighting a losing battle to suppress the sounds of suffering. Despite her best efforts they spilled through her gritted teeth, along with the last shreds of her dignity.

It felt like forever before Shadow Weaver allowed her another opportunity to end her torment. It was impossible for Catra to tell time in that state: disconnected from reality, yet inescapably in the moment. When the magical current suddenly ceased she slumped against the cot, lungs releasing a pitiful whimper like that of a wounded animal. Which is all she was anyway, according to Shadow Weaver.

"Now," Shadow Weaver drew out, the sensation of her floating closer making Catra's fur stand on end, "what do you have to say for yourself?"

Unable to hide her shudders of fear and lingering pain, Catra buried her teary face in the crook of her elbow. Voice cracking from emotion and the rawness in her throat, she croaked out, "I'm sorry."

Unsurprisingly, that wasn't good enough for Shadow Weaver. Just as Catra was swallowing hard to regain control of her voice, a hand came to rest on her shoulder, making her jump even before the fingernails dug in. Shadow Weaver's other hand caressed her jaw gently before yanking on it, wrenching Catra's neck and forcing eye contact. "What are you sorry for?"

Normally such an action would send a jolt of fear down Catra's spine and into every cell in her body. But in that moment all Catra could feel was the weight of defeat and resignation. It made her muscles sag, her limbs heavy, her spirit lifeless. She felt broken. Dead inside.

"For not meaning it before," she answered numbly, snuffling and swiping at her dribbling nose. "For giving you attitude."

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" Shadow Weaver crooned. She lifted her hand to the kitten's skull, ignoring the way Catra involuntarily shrunk into herself at the threat of contact.

The light touch on Catra's head screamed danger, and violation, and DO NOT WANT. It took all her effort to suppress the growl rising in her throat, a sound that would surely result in further punishment if it escaped. When it inevitably did, a palm swiftly collided with her cheek. Catra couldn't help the tiny gasp that shot through her lips any more than she could help the reflexive tears that flew from her eyes as her head whipped around.

"Do not bite the hand that feeds you, Catra," Shadow Weaver warned her. "Even a dimwitted creature like you ought to know better." Tilting her head, she inquired, "Or are you in need of more… taming?"

When Catra shook her head vehemently, Shadow Weaver reached out once more, with a burning glare that said she would not be denied. That she was in charge and Catra would submit, or else. Catra's eyes screwed shut in anticipation, teeth digging into her tongue as she tried not to growl, or scream, or bite that bitch's hand off.

"That's right," crooned Shadow Weaver, pressing hard as she petted the top of Catra's head. "Who's a good kitty?" Her tone was sickly sweet, honey laced with arsenic, a mockery of the praise and affection Catra so craved.

Catra's throat swelled, tears welling behind her eyelids as she willed herself not to squirm away. This was unbearable, every second of it. The humiliation, the unwanted touch, these ghosts of things she'd never have. Why couldn't Shadow Weaver mean it, damn it? Hadn't Catra tried to make this woman care for her, or at least tolerate her? But no, she didn't get kind words and loving touches. Those were reserved for Adora.

The invasive fingers grazed one of Catra's ears and it flicked away instinctively, a chill running down her spine as she choked back a sob. Shadow Weaver scoffed in disgust as she finally, finally drew her hand back. "Collect yourself, child," she said flatly. "You're expected in Horde History in twenty minutes. And you know what happens when you're tardy, or truant." Then she deactivated the force field and floated away, not looking back.

A whine caught in Catra's throat, high and long, and she buried her face in the mattress. Shaking sobs rattled her ribcage, her hands winding in the sheets as she desperately clung to her sanity.

"...up. Hey, wake up. It's okay."

Catra's ear flicks, her skin still crawling as she begins to surface. The distant, comforting words contrast with the tight grip on her arm, further muddling her hazy consciousness. A sudden jerk of her body makes her eyes snap open with a gasp and a whimper, the ghosts of a scream building in her chest that she can't seem to voice.

Adora stops shaking Catra's shoulder as soon as her eyes open. "You're okay. It's just me," she murmurs, letting her hand slide over Catra's shoulder blades with a concerned frown. Catra's body is stiff as a board, her eyes wide and unblinking. Beginning to rub her back soothingly, Adora presses a kiss to the top of her head. "She's not here. She can't hurt you."

The safe voice and reassuring words send a small wave of relief through Catra's brain, but unfortunately not her body. Her muscles remain locked, paralyzed by fear despite her nerves firing overtime, screaming at her to flee from the uninvited contact.

She knows it's just Adora. But that makes no impression on the terrified child inside her.

Struggling to make herself move damn it, Catra shrinks into herself in protest. "Stop… stop."

"Shhh, it's okay," Adora croons, pulling Catra closer and wrapping her arms around her shuddering body. "I got you."

The sudden pressure and sensation of restraint sends a surge of fear through Catra's body, making her tail stick straight out and her fur stand on end. It also finally allows her to break through the paralysis, and suddenly she's thrashing in Adora's arms.

"Adora, stop!"

Escaping Adora's suddenly lax grip, Catra scoots back and flattens against the wall, eyes wide and trained on the threat. Adora looks shocked, perhaps even upset, but Catra is in no frame of mind to process this, much less sympathize. Hissing instinctually, she sends Adora a glare as heated as her flaming cheeks. "Gods, what is wrong with you?" she demands sharply. "I told you to stop."

"I-I thought you were having a nightmare," Adora parries weakly, caught between defensiveness and concern as she takes in Catra's fearful, aggressive body language. She can feel her own cheeks flushing too, but from embarrassment rather than anger. "I was just trying to make you feel better."

Catra barks out a laugh. "Please. You were trying to make yourself feel better," she snarks. "You and your fucking hero complex."

Adora's eyes narrow. "What, is it somehow wrong that I want to help you?"

"Not everything is about what you want, Adora," retorts Catra. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe other people don't want your greedy little hands all over them all the time? Taking, taking, taking, just like always!"

"I…" Adora's mouth slips open as she's hit with a headrush, a spiral of despairing thoughts following in its wake. Did Bow and Glimmer not like her hugs? Was she using them this whole time? Has Catra always hated it when she touched her?

"You care more about feeling like you're helping than you do about whether or not you're actually being helpful," spits Catra. Her muscles refuse to relax, so she hugs her knees tighter to her chest instead, watching Adora like a hawk as she absorbs this apparently earth shattering information. Catra huffs, dropping her chin onto her knees as her tail wraps itself around her legs. "You don't care about making me feel better. If you did, you never would have left."

Adora stiffens, inhaling sharply through her nose. "Oh, don't even start," she growls, the sudden anger swelling in her chest making her features go dark with warning. "I sacrificed everything when I broke you out of prison, Catra. You don't get to tell me that I don't care about you."

"Again with the heroism," remarks Catra. She tilts her head with a cruel smile, eyes piercing Adora in a way only she can. "You need to be needed so badly, don't you?"

"Stop it," snaps Adora.

Catra raises her eyebrows innocently. "Stop what?" She can't help a tiny smirk at Adora's extremely satisfying growl of frustration.

Dragging her fingers through her hair, Adora demands, "Why are you being like this?"

"Because I'm sick of you assuming what's best for me!" exclaims Catra. "You can't always fix everything by… by smothering me, Adora!"

Adora tosses her hands in the air. "Okay, then what do you want me to do?!"

There's a brief pause before Catra says, "That."

Adora blinks in confusion and Catra holds her gaze steady, despite the urge to roll her eyes. "I want you to ask. Preferably before you start putting your hands all over me."

A crawling sensation at the back of Adora's neck causes her to squirm, wring her fingers. She suddenly can't look Catra in the eye. "Look, I thought… earlier, we were all snuggled up. I thought you liked it."

Catra pushes out a hard but shaky breath as she flexes and releases her hands, attempting to calm her body, which still doesn't seem to have gotten the memo that the threat has passed. "Earlier, I wasn't just coming out of a nightmare."

Swallowing down the guilt, Adora chances a look at Catra. "I'm sorry, really. I didn't mean to scare you."

Catra scoffs, looking downright offended. "You didn't scare me." When Adora tilts her head with her best 'you're so full of shit' expression, Catra's tail flicks and she averts her eyes. "Look, sometimes I need space when I'm upset. Haven't you noticed that at some point during the last eighteen years?"

"I mean…" Adora shifts, pulling at her fingers again, "yeah."

"So why can't you just give it?" asks Catra. The words make Adora lift her head, find Catra staring her down again. Her mouth moves wordlessly with an answer that won't come.

"Because you hate feeling useless, that's why," Catra spells out for her. Leaning in with a stern gaze, she concludes, "But I told you, it's not about you. It's about me. And when I tell you not to touch me, I want you to stop fucking touching me. Got it?"

She's nearly spitting again by the end of her declaration, those glowing embers of anger flaring once more. But they're extinguished in an instant when she sees Adora's face go pale, her hands fisting the sheets as her eyes dart away. Catra knows the signs. She just pushed Adora past her limit.

"Shit. Adora-"

She's cut off by a sob. Adora slaps a hand over her mouth, but there's no hiding the tears rolling down her cheeks. Her other hand trembles, clenching the linens tighter as her breathing speeds up. Acting swiftly, Catra moves behind Adora and wraps her up in a tight hug, resting her chin on her shoulder and forcing a purr.

Adora takes a couple seconds to react, shrugging weakly in an attempt to dislodge Catra's arms. "If I don't get to do it, neither do you," she mutters bitterly.

Catra scoffs, pulling away just enough to see Adora's face. "Okay, don't be an idiot just to spite me. I know this makes you feel better because, unlike some people, I actually pay attention." When Adora scowls and looks away, Catra heaves a sigh and drops her arms. "It's not like I'm revoking your friend privileges, Adora. I'm just telling you to ask before doing something that sometimes makes me feel worse when I'm freaking out. Is considering my needs really that inconvenient for you?"

Fists clenching, Adora stands and whirls around to face her. "You know what?" she snaps. "If I'm so dumb and useless and bad at this then maybe I should just stay here, stay out of your way. All I do is piss you off, anyway."

"Oh my gods, do you have to be so dramatic?"

"Me, dramatic?"

Taking a second to settle herself with a breath, Catra says, "Look, I didn't ask you to come with me because you're useful. I asked you to come because I miss you and I like having you around."

"Sure you do," scoffs Adora.

"Adora," Catra says flatly.

"No, seriously," Adora insists with a wave of her hand. "You go on to Dryl, I'll stay where I'm needed. At least Light Hope appreciates me."

"Hello, Adora." The robotic voice materializing behind Adora makes her jump forward with a shriek, whipping around to see Light Hope hovering mere feet away. "What do you-"

Light Hope cuts herself off as she lays eyes on Catra, her projection flickering into red. Panic shoots through Adora, but Catra doesn't show any signs of fear. All she does is roll her eyes and scoff, "Oh, smooth move, dumbass."

Casting a quick glare at Catra, Adora redirects her ire toward her snooping mentor. "Light Hope! You can't just apparate in my bedroom. What did I say about privacy?"

"The Crystal Castle is my domain, including this room. Nothing that occurs here should be private from me," replies Light Hope. Gaze settling on Catra again, she declares, "The Crystal Castle is intended only for She-Ra and her steed. You are trespassing, Force Captain."

"Yeah, trust me, wasn't my idea," huffs Catra, though her ears prick up slightly at the use of her former rank. "I wasn't exactly itching for round two with your spiders from hell."

Light Hope reverts back to her usual shade of purple, though she doesn't look any less irritated. "I am sure it was not. Adora has a poor track record in this regard."

"Oh?" Catra's tail begins to fluff up but she swallows down the jealousy and tries to keep her tone teasing, if slightly accusatory. "Who else have you been bringing into your room, Adora?"

"It was just Bow, calm down," huffs Adora. Turning to Light Hope, she points out, "And you said it was okay."

"An error on my part," replies Light Hope flatly. "I should never have allowed you to entertain an ally in these halls. It goes against my programming and clearly you lack the judgement to distinguish between an ally and an enemy." Adora feels the blood draining from her head as she continues, "You have violated my trust, and the agreement you made to protect this sacred place. I am very disappointed in you, Adora."

Adora's shoulders somehow manage to both clench and sag at the same time. She can feel her face falling, betraying her humiliation, but she can't seem to make herself speak to defend herself. What would she say, anyway? Light Hope is right.

Her fingers find each other and begin to wring and scratch, desperate to spend this nervous energy and soothe her mind. But it's useless. Tears are pricking at the corners of her eyes when she hears Catra snap, "Hey!"

Catra steps forward and a little to the side, halfway blocking Light Hope's view of Adora. "Calm down, flicker face," she snarks, grinning obnoxiously in an aggressive invitation. "I'm not an enemy anymore. I defected."

"That is a highly unlikely story," replies Light Hope.

Eyes still on the floor, Adora mutters, "She's telling the truth."

"What proof has she presented?" When Adora answers with only a fleeting glance, her hands burrowing deep into her pockets, she remarks, "Adora, I am only a hologram and I dare say I am a better judge of character than you."

No doubt unaware of the devastating burn she just delivered, Light Hope wastes no time turning back to Catra. "If you have truly defected from the Horde, you will allow me to scan your brain again to be sure."

"Whoa, hey," objects Catra, raising her hands defensively as she steps back. "No, lady, you can't dig around inside my brain." Not again. It's one thing having her body touched without permission, but her mind?

"I will learn the truth, Catra, even if I have to drag it from your-"

Catra shudders at the mere thought. Shadow Weaver didn't try to pull things from her mind often, rarely used truth spells on her either. Why would she bother? She didn't care about the truth, she only cared about being right. But when she did do it…

A shiver runs down Catra's spine. It's the most vulnerable feeling, knowing someone can see the innermost parts of her and she's helpless to stop it. Especially if that person is an enemy willing to use it against her. For instance, a sadistic excuse for a parental figure, or a hologram able to conjure devastating flashbacks down to every precise detail.

"Then I will be forced to assume you are lying and activate the security system," Light Hope replies matter-of-factly. One thing she has on Shadow Weaver is that she seems oblivious to Catra's distress, rather than enjoying it and milking it for her own amusement. Hurray for small blessings.

Adora gulps, eyes flitting between the two of them. Not only is the confrontation making her nervous, Catra's brain holds some new information that she's not exactly keen on Light Hope getting a hold of.

Stepping forward, she objects, "Light Hope, is that really necessary?"

"Yes, Adora, it is really necessary," stresses Light Hope, something bordering on sass infiltrating her tone. "Someone needs to counteract your negligence."

As Adora's face falls once more, Catra's hardens. Her discomfort falls by the wayside in the face of her need to prove this bitch wrong, and get her to lay off of Adora. "You know what?" she snarks. "Go for it. I have nothing to hide."

Well, that makes one of them. Raising a pointed eyebrow at Catra, Adora stresses, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"She already has most of the memories she can torture me with," reasons Catra, in an attempt to calm herself as much as Adora. "What's a little more psychological ammunition if it means we don't have to fight our way out?"

Really, Catra's still less than thrilled by the prospect, but she'd rather let someone in willingly than be invaded, violated, defiled. At least Light Hope isn't forcing the scan upon her without her consent this time. At least she was given the option to fight the spiders instead. A choice between two shitty outcomes is better than no choice at all.

A glowing blue orb apparates in front of Catra and she can't help recoiling slightly with a tiny hiss. It may be technology, but it still feels like magic. And magic makes her feel dirty.

A hand lightly grasping her fingers pulls Catra from the brink of whatever that was, and she glances at Adora. She's wearing a weak smile, one that quickly slides off her face. Her eyes drop to their linked hands and jump back up to meet Catra's. "Wait, sorry, is this okay?"

Nodding almost imperceptibly, Catra gives Adora's fingers a tiny squeeze before letting them go. She doesn't want what's about to happen to her - what she's about to let happen to her, she reminds herself - to spread to Adora as well.

"All right, Hope," she blusters, cracking her knuckles. "Hit me."

A look of confusion comes over the hologram's face. "Hope…" she murmurs. Her voice sounds softer all of a sudden, almost human.

"Uh…" Adora leans in, peering at her face. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she states suddenly, her face flickering as her voice returns to normal. "According to my sensors, I am at the highest functionality possible given the state of the watchtower. Thank you for asking." Turning to Catra, she instructs her, "Please look into the light."

"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill," mutters Catra. Taking a deep breath, she pushes it out slowly and lets her eyes focus on the glowing orb. It's honestly fascinating to look at, so shiny…

Adora watches as a line of light jumps out and pans over Catra from head to toe. This time they aren't magically transported to the Fright Zone when the light disappears. This time Light Hope turns and glares at her.

"Oh. I see," she says, sounding the furthest thing from impressed. Adora gulps again under her cold stare.

Catra's eyes flick once between the two of them. "I'm guessing you didn't tell her," she says to Adora.

"It's not like you went and told Hordak," deflects Adora.

"Well, I kinda did, but not on purpose," mutters Catra. Adora raises an eyebrow and she says, "Long story."

Light Hope chooses this moment to interrupt, materializing slightly closer to get their attention. "You may not be an enemy combatant anymore," she tells Catra, "but your presence here is still unauthorized. Please vacate the premises or I will be forced to activate the security system."

Adora hopes Catra doesn't notice her tiny sigh of relief. Because while Adora chose to believe Catra when she said she left the Horde, she was well aware that it was a choice. After all these months of being at odds and falling victim to Catra's manipulation on multiple occasions, knowing for certain that it's the truth is a relief.

"Yeah, don't worry," says Catra, waving off Light Hope and stepping through her on her way to the table. "We're leaving."

Suddenly Adora feels self-conscious. Hands fidgeting once more, she asks, "You still want me to come with you?"

She can't help wincing at her soft tone. She sounds small, vulnerable. But there's a good reason for it. She knows she fucked up when she ignored Catra's wishes, and the knowledge that she made the situation worse fills her with shame. The last thing she wants to do is make things harder for Catra, who already has had such a hard life. To hear Catra tell it, Adora doesn't understand her at all and doesn't care to. But Adora cares. She probably cares too much.

And the fact is, despite her frustration earlier and the threat she made to stay behind, she never really wanted to. But she also wasn't convinced that Catra didn't want to leave her behind. For all she knew, Catra was just trying to calm her down because she felt bad for setting off one of her episodes. Or worse, because it was annoying. An inconvenience. A liability. All the things Adora never wanted to be.

"Duh, obviously." Catra rolls her eyes, fully back into obnoxious mode, but her smile is genuine. Slinging the backpack over one shoulder, she reaches out a hand and says, "Come on, dummy. Let's get out of here."

A grin sprouts on Adora's lips, one she couldn't hold back even if she wanted to. Sidestepping Light Hope, she joins Catra at the table and takes her hand. Catra's palm is warm but calloused, a lovely contrast to the soft fur on the back of her hand. On impulse Adora lifts their hands to her face and rubs her cheek against the short fur, humming at the soothing sensation. She registers Catra chuckling, but it feels too nice for her to be embarrassed.

"Adora, I must object," interjects Light Hope, appearing now between them and the door. "Even if I am 'driving you up the fucking wall,' you are making great progress here."

Her very specific phrasing makes Catra roll her eyes, already regretting letting that creepy bitch rummage through her memories.

"And I'm miserable," states Adora. And it's the lifelessness in her tone more than the words themselves that makes Catra's ears prick up.

Sighing heavily, Adora combs through her messy hair, tucking some loose strands behind her ear. "Light Hope, I'm not a machine," she appeals. "I need to be around other people. People I can touch, people who are my friends." Shoulders drooping, she shakes her head. "You wouldn't understand."

"I do understand the utility of friends," counters Light Hope, and Adora rolls her eyes. Perhaps oblivious to Adora's sadness and frustration, she continues, "They provide company, a listening ear, and…" Her eyebrows furrow, her face and voice going softer. "Warmth."

Thrown by the sudden change in Light Hope's demeanor and the implication that she might actually have feelings, Adora takes a second to splutter, "Exactly, warmth! Surely you've noticed how cold it is here all the time."

Light Hope frowns, turning away slightly. "I have."

"Look, Light Hope, I'm not giving up on being She-Ra," Adora assures her, stepping closer. "I'll still come back and train every week. I have to go to Bright Moon for the Alliance meetings anyway."

"You will still come visit me?" asks Light Hope, sounding somewhat hopeful. When Adora nods, her tone and cadence turn more robotic again. "And you will maintain your commitment to fighting to protect Etheria, bring balance to the planet?"

"Of course! If anything, I'll have the energy to train harder if I have a reason to live."

Catra's eyes flash to Adora's back, eyebrows arching. That's perhaps the most casually dark thing she's heard her best friend say, ever. Since when is Adora the one about to give up on living? This place has really fucked with her.

"Very well, Adora," states Light Hope. "Will you return tomorrow, after the meeting?"

"Of course," agrees Adora. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Okay." Light Hope smiles. And for once, it's not creepy. "I will see you then."

"See you then." Turning back to Catra, Adora grabs her hand again and gives her a little tug. Light Hope moves aside to let them by, and Catra gives her a cheeky little wave with her free hand as they pass.

Once they're alone in the hall, Catra squints at Adora, giving her hand a soft squeeze. "Adora? You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Adora answers with a confused blink, like she didn't just admit to some vaguely suicidal feelings right in front of Catra. Then her lips fall into a frown, eyes darting away before returning to squint at Catra. "Are… are we okay?"

Sighing, Catra releases Adora's hand and scratches the back of her head. She doesn't want to lie to Adora, but she also knows how sensitive Adora is to anything that feels like rejection. And now that she isn't angry, she doesn't care to exploit that weakness again.

Actually, she is angry. She's angry with herself for triggering one of Adora's episodes in the first place. Sure, she was right, but she was cruel about it. Needlessly cruel. And there's someone very cruel who still lives in Catra's memories, whose voice taunts her on the daily. Someone she vowed never to be like.

Why is it that Adora always brings out the worst in her?

"We're working on it," is the answer she settles on.

Mouth twitching, Adora averts her eyes. "Yeah, I guess." Her shoulders slump and Catra's chest aches. Because Adora brings out the best in her, too.

"Hey," she says, bumping shoulders with her glum best friend. Her best… something. "I missed you."

That brings a smile back to Adora's face. Winking cheekily, she teases, "So you're admitting it now?"

Catra pinches her brow with a frustrated sigh. "Adora, ever heard of quitting while you're ahead?"

"Never." Adora grins, and it only turns brighter when Catra throws her a halfhearted glare. Looping her arm through Catra's, she skips ahead with a whoop, tugging her toward the atrium. "Come on, let's get the fuck outta here!"

A/N: (Trigger warning for [non-sexual] touching without consent, abuse of power, electrocution via binding magic, speciesism)

Thanks to Malachi Walker (a.k.a. the best commenter a writer could ask for and the genius behind the rock star au Rhythm and Blues) for beta reading this chapter. You can all thank her and our discussion on Catra's touch aversion on Tumblr for the chapter theme and that flashback going precisely the way it did. I know I already kind of covered these themes in chapters 2 and 9 but I figured it warranted a little more attention on its own, and it actually fit really well with what I was already doing with the chapter anyway.