Shedding
Chapter 13
Could Scorpions hold hands with each other? Well, hold claws?
It was a strange question, perhaps. Sure they could?
Scorpia could fit her own claws together. Kind of. Ok it was pretty awkward.
But different Scorpions had different sized-claws, so would they be able to fit? Would it feel the way it apparently did for soft-fingered-people?
At the very least, Scorpions didn't have to fear cutting each other's claws the way Scorpia did, clasping her large, awkward claws around anyone else's hand.
She was aware of how dangerous she could be. Perhaps that's why it meant so much to her, whenever she felt the pressure of someone's hand around her claws. It was a sign of trust, wasn't it?
It seemed that way, when Catra caught her claw and dragged her off to share her thrill over a 'party' before things went so awry.
It also seemed that way, when Perfuma so casually took her claw in her hands, first in the Underwater Grotto and now it was a common occurrence.
Scorpia didn't know how to explain why it meant so much to her, that Perfuma could touch her so easily, so frequently. The arachnid relished physical contact. It and verbal affirmations were a love language both of them shared, and Scorpia was never short of compliments. The time they spent together always left the scorpion feeling flustered and fluttery in a way she didn't realize was possible.
Gosh, she loved her. She loved the friendships she had cultivated within the Rebellion. She loved …whatever it was she was cultivating with Perfuma. Was it romance?
Sometimes she wondered, if they were heading that direction or if it was something Perfuma wanted. Scorpia wanted it but, gosh, what if she was wrong?
Scorpia didn't make friends easily. She was raised in the Horde along everyone else, and yet while the other cadets bonded and grew up together, the Black Garnet's princess was kept in isolation. She was too much – too much Princess for a Horde that feared and loathed Princesses, too needy and clingy for those who had little tolerance for it. She was too much *her*. Just everything that made her who she was wasn't what they wanted. She couldn't, at the time, connect with the Black Garnet, and there was little reason to tolerate her when she couldn't give them what they needed.
Catra had been her first friend, her obsession, and she learned all too well what being *too much her* entailed. Catra reminded her of it, her hollering and cruel words as sharp as the nails raking across her carapace, or across the rigid wall beside her ear. Scorpia had hoped to show her what true friendship and loyalty were, but she realized that those attributes tied to everything else that made the Scorpion who *she* was made that friendship and loyalty too high and too annoying of a price to pay.
At least, that was what Horde Prime's whispers said, through the chip that forced her limbs to go against her will and attack her friends on His behalf.
They were not her friends. She had no friends – wasn't the type of person who could make friends. She was too clingy, too talkative, too incompetent. She was a useful tool and nothing more.
Scorpia could deal with the searing pain through her nerves when she tried to act against him – when she kept her silence when he tried (unsuccessfully) to push her to speak. She *knew* how much words hurt. The cruel words her thoughts conjured – with his prodding, though a small part of her feared any truth to them – remained formless on her lips. She wouldn't say them. She wouldn't say anything she couldn't take back.
She didn't truly feel the way he said she did, the way he forced her to. The rage that boiled at the pit of her stomach wasn't for them. The memories of Catra's wrath – the harsh tone of her voice, the swipe of her claws or the hard shove against her face, or her chest when the cat screeched at her to back off – replayed in her psyche like a video she couldn't shut off, egging her on to inflict her pain on the others. Her guilt at Entrapta's capture, her failure to even join the search party as Glimmer had other plans, eroded her resolve. What did she know about what she should or shouldn't do?
She wasn't a person who could have friends. Just as Catra would say, or that the Horde would imply, Scorpia was simply *too much* for anyone to love.
And even if there had been anything to love, she had squandered it away by her capture, by standing in Prime's light (even if he had forcibly walked her there) and turning on her friends. They didn't know how hard she fought to stop herself, did they? She might not have friends anymore by the time this was done.
Bow had asked her to trust him, to let him save her, and she did.
And it was over. The chip fell from her neck, releasing its hold on her nerves. The Rebellion welcomed her back with open arms. Horde Prime had been *wrong*. The thoughts whispered in her ear, the visuals – her memories – forcibly replayed had been silenced.
The chip left a phantom pain behind, sometimes, like a ghost coiled around her muscles. It also left those heavy feelings behind, sticking to her like a slime she couldn't rub off. Those thoughts sometimes held her own voice, or Catra's, now, and the memories replayed like a holographic projection she forgot to turn off.
Sometimes she surged with ugly feelings she didn't want, with no rhyme or reason for them.
She wasn't angry with her friends – they tried to help her. Perfuma's confidence in her, and the gentleness she displayed in the face of danger was something Scorpia would never forget, and it was those memories she clinged to when her thoughts grew dark. But the vestiges of anger (at what, she wasn't sure) and insecurity boiled to the surface, turning inward. She didn't want to think about any of those things – Catra's treatment of her, whether or not she was being too much and annoying her friends, anything about Horde Prime or the chip, none of it!
Catra even apologized! And she never apologized to anyone! They could be friends again!
She had friends now, in the Rebellion. They did want her around.
The chip was gone!
It was over. She need not spare another thought on those dark topics.
Besides, she had a Kingdom to fix! Which was pretty tough, but also pretty great because really anything could make the Fright Zone better than it currently is! Can't fall past the floor, right?
Yet…Scorpia knew nothing about how to rule a Kingdom. She had no idea how to fix any of this, who to ask or how to start. She also didn't know how to feel about Hordak himself – his white appearance a shade closer to Horde Prime's than he had been before his capture. He was already a fearsome presence, and Scorpia wasn't sure she would ever be comfortable with him. She also wasn't sure if she should…do something about the atrocities he had committed? But what? Scorpia didn't feel like she had the right to arbitrarily decide something like that, even if she was technically 'Queen'.
Entrapta was quick to come up with suggestions on how they could improve the Fright Zone, and current inhabitants also had requests, demands, pleas. It was a place to start, and Scorpia let them have at it. But sometimes…most of the time…she felt like she was being yanked through the process by her tail. Scorpia had no way of knowing if she was doing a good job or not. The former Horde were returning, though that could have been because they had nowhere to go. It was hard to start somewhere new.
Still…she comforted herself with the thought that now that the war was over and the Fright Zone was reclaimed by the Scorpion Princess, her people would start to return. Were any of the royal court alive? Were her parents alive? Any other relatives? Granddad?
If anyone came who knew what the Fright Zone was like before it fell to the Horde, they could help her return it to that state. Scorpia had no qualms relinquishing her responsibilities to someone who might know better.
A small voice, in the back of her mind, sneered that she was too stupid to lead a kingdom successfully anyway. Interestingly(?), that voice sounded like Catra's.
The arachnid smothered that voice down. Sure, it was likely something Catra would have said to her, a year ago. Maybe it was something she'd say now. She wasn't sure. Catra was jilted in how she spoke to Scorpia now – short, nervous, and that in turn made the scorpion nervous. Scorpia tried to keep aware of the things she did that irritated Catra originally. There was a mutual hyper-awareness that made it hard for either of them to talk casually.
Perfuma…was as wonderful as she had always been, full of praise and ideas and enthusiasm. She was a frequent visitor, and just as frequently invited Scorpia to Plumeria. The flower princess had a way of helping Scorpia pick up on the things she was missing without making her feel stupid for missing them.
Scorpia relished every moment she spent with the smaller woman, even as her gut burned with the fear that *she could screw this up*. She had such a hard time making friends, and she saw first hand what could happen when the friendship breaks down. Last the young Queen wanted was to ever hear such harsh words or see such anger or disgust on Perfuma's face, or Frosta's, or Bow's. Catra had issues that pushed her that way, some unrelated to Scorpia but the arachnid couldn't help but fear if she had been a different person – had been Adora, had been someone other than herself – things would have worked out better.
It had been one of the many whispers of that stupid chip, that Scorpia tried to banish yet those whispers had echoes.
That freakish phantom pain also sometimes jolted her awake at night, snaking across her exoskeleton like tendrils and leaving her in a sort of sleep paralysis. It was brief and occasional, but just the fear of it jarred her up in a cold sweat. Other times, she'd wake up in the middle of the night somewhere else, her heart pounding in her chest and her claws open. She preferred just the general nightmares, unpleasant as they also were.
Did none of the others who were chipped experience this?
She sometimes considered asking, but then…what if they didn't?
Would they say she was weird for it? Would they say that she should see a doctor?
The thought on its own left her in a cold, stammering sweat. She was terrified of doctors. Hopefully, with better food and living conditions in the Fright Zone, there wouldn't be need for any!
It was fine. Everything was fine. It was just some vestiges of a rough event, but it was over now and time healed all wounds, didn't they?
Sure, they did!
All she needed to do was push these thoughts and fears back until they were gone for good, and fix up her Kingdom.
As time elapsed, Scorpia's royal 'court' (did Hordak, Entrapta, Perfuma and Lonnie count as a Court? They didn't have formal titles or anything but they did help keep things progressing smoothly… was it possible for the Queen of her own Kingdom to be part of the court of someone else's? Was that a thing? Would it be stupid to ask at this point? She's supposed to just know these things, right? Maybe she would ask Perfuma) fell into a rhythm. Electric, food and other necessities were becoming more abundant for every citizen and they were beginning to take account for those who had different needs and ways of functioning. Scorpia knew what it was like to live in a world that wasn't made for her body, and she knew of others like Rogelio who felt the same. When the Scorpions returned, they might have their own set of needs that Scorpia was eager to tend to.
But they never came.
Each day, she would check any new migrants in hopes for the first Scorpion – the first person of her kind – every day was the same answer.
Eventually, a cold chill formed at the pit of her stomach as a thought she'd dared not think wormed its way into her ear – bearing Catra's voice.
They weren't coming. Maybe Scorpia wasn't doing things the way they wanted them done. Maybe they had long since given up on her and moved on. Maybe they had considered her dead to them when they left her to the Horde so many years ago. Maybe they left her because she couldn't connect with the Black Garnet at the time? Maybe she was too much *her* for them to want?
Maybe they were dead.
Maybe she was working with her family's murderer, leaving him to help fix a Kindgom he had destroyed. Maybe she was a bad person, a bad leader, or a coward for letting him. Maybe her biological family was disappointed in her, for working with him, for having served Horde Prime. She had been chipped! She hadn't wanted to!
She didn't know, and she didn't want to think these things. Maybe they were in hiding, and didn't know it was safe to come out yet. Maybe they had left the planet…somehow…while they were in Despondos…and unable to see the stars… Maybe they had found a new home they enjoyed so much they didn't wish to leave…and for whatever reason no one ever decided to write to her? Maybe they thought she was dead, and hadn't yet realized otherwise? Maybe they would come, in time?
They will come, eventually! Or write to her, or something!
And if they didn't…
It was fine! It was fine! Everything is fine!
She had her friends in the Rebellion. She had Frosta, the coolest little buddy she could ever ask for! She had Perfuma, the kindest flower in Etheria and someone whom Scorpia hoped to one day call her girlfriend. She was rebuilding a Kingdom and it was going well! To be where she was at now was nothing to scoff at. Scorpia was grateful for it, for them! It shouldn't matter in the end, if none of the Scorpioni ever came back. It was fine!
She just…needed to continue cultivating those friendships, do well by them, be someone who they'd want to keep around. Don't think too much on it and just keep moving forward. Keep positive!
And that she did, dropping the subject of the Scorpioni as best she could. Well, unofficially. Perfuma still brought them up on occasion and Scorpia was not ever about to ask *her* to drop any topic. No, instead she deflected to a different topic, any other! How beautiful Perfuma looked that evening! How wonderfully the flowers bloomed and the pleasant aroma they gave! How homey the Fright Zone was beginning to look, and that was saying something because that place didn't seem capable of looking homey!
Perfuma thankfully took the hint, or took interest in the new topics, and they could leave the subject of the Scorpions behind them. At least for the time being.
At some point the two began having sleep overs, platonically sharing the same bed. Scorpia soon found that cuddling with Perfuma kept most of the nightmarish shenanigans at bay. Did that mean anything, or was it just happenstance? She didn't know. Perfuma had such a warm and accepting radiance about her, and her home felt so inviting. Scorpia liked to make herself useful when she was there – help tend the gardens with her claws, help the Plumerians with anything they needed, anything to give herself more of a reason to be there and more of a reason for Perfuma and her people to enjoy the scorpion's presence while she was there.
Perfuma urged her to relax – to try pajamas, and more comfortable clothing in general rather than her Horde Uniform. She urged her to try changing the hard bed and thin, ripped sheets in Scorpia's own bedroom with warmer, softer blankets and pillows. Those things sounded so nice – Scorpia often found herself gently rubbing her cheek or the smooth side of her claw against Perfuma's own sheets – but Scorpia was reluctant to make changes. It felt oddly selfish to make changes to her own living spaces or clothes just for her own comfort, like she shouldn't have them.
Scorpia didn't know how to explain it, or how to handle Perfuma's concerned smile as the blonde retorted, "Scorpia, you deserve to have nice things."
She also didn't know how to respond when Perfuma in a subsequent visit, eventually returned to the topic of the missing Scorpioni, this time voicing her concern when Scorpia tried to change the topic.
Scorpia's stomach clenched at the topic, and she could only stammer her most optimistic thoughts on what likely became of the them. Part of her feared annoying Perfuma. The two of them had never argued over anything and, if Scorpia had anything to say about it, they hopefully never would. Scorpia didn't mind relenting to whatever Perfuma wanted, in the end, but she didn't know how to do that, here. She didn't know how to deal with the missing Scorpioni, or her concerns with Hordak or with putting Entrapta in a bad situation. She didn't want to cause trouble with any of her friends, or anyone willing to help her. She didn't want to make waves, or take up space, or give anyone any reason to reconsider their help or their friendship…!
Perfuma finally relented, with an embrace and an offer.
"Just know…if you ever want to talk about it, to me or if you ever want to get answers from Hordak, you don't have to do it alone. I can be there with you, to help talk you through it, or to support you as to ask, and get the answer to, those questions."
Scorpia didn't know what to say of it, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. She also appreciated it when Perfuma guided her to her bed in a silent invitation that Scorpia had no intentions to refuse.
She held onto the flower princess through the night, hoping to will her heart to slow down and her thoughts to quit racing. Scorpia did eventually doze off – or she assumed she did – but when she woke up sometime later but there was a heaviness to it. Like she couldn't fully wake up. It was weird, and her tail and claws felt oddly heavy, too, though Scorpia couldn't tell if it was just because she was tired or if something else was happening.
The odd feeling brought with it a nervousness, and she wasn't so sure she would be able to hide it from Perfuma. She wasn't sure what she could say if Perfuma asked about it.
So she left. Guilt and apprehension twisted Scorpia's stomach in knots at the thought of what Perfuma might think or wonder when she woke up, so she left a fresh, warm cup of her family's calming tea and a note before returning to the Fright Zone.
The next hours… days(?) passed in a blur. Scorpia found it harder to concentrate. Her limbs felt heavier and harder to move – was it just her or did they look bloated? She tried to continue on as normal, act as normal, but it was getting harder to think and the anxiety brimmed at the surface, like a nausea she couldn't purge.
With that anxiety came another urge, one she had felt before but seldom this strongly: Hide. Burrow. She first tried under the thin, shredded covers of her bed but they didn't near suffice even when she curled up under them. Her room was too easy to find. She was too easy to find. Then someone may ask what was happening and then what? What could she say?
Yet she couldn't leave the Kingdom in a rut! She couldn't just disappear! That would be irresponsible!
Scorpia could barely keep her concentration as she spoke with Lonnie, and with Entrapta and Hordak. Truth be told she couldn't remember what she said, other than making sure they knew she'd be gone for a bit, but she would return. She couldn't recall if she said when.
The first time Perfuma called her after she had left sent a spike of anxiety through her. What if Perfuma was angry?
Thank the garnet, she wasn't. She didn't seem so, anyway. It was hard to think. Perfuma's voice had such a soothing effect on her, and such a soft, positive vibe. Scorpia always felt a little better just listening to her. Perfuma would occasionally ask if everything was alright, or if she was too busy to talk, and Scorpia would scramble to find the right words to assure her.
It got harder to find the right explanations once she settled in Horror Hall, when she began leaving the video feature off from their communicator. If she saw the interior of Horror Hall, the underside of the table Scorpia hid beneath, she'd surely ask about it. Scorpia just didn't know what to say. It would be easier to explain a dark video screen.
Perfuma soon invited her back to Plumeria. Gosh, she was tempted! Part of her wanted to go and hide there, burrow under Perfuma's soft blankets, cling to her and tell her everything.
But if she said anything of it, Scorpia couldn't take it back. She couldn't undo it, and she couldn't undo whatever effect it'd have on Perfuma. What if she got annoyed? What if it was too much for her? What if *she* was too much for her?
Scorpia just couldn't. She was much too grateful for what she had with Perfuma to risk any of it.
So she didn't.
As time progressed, Scorpia's focus grew more blurred and she'd fade in and out of consciousness. With it came dreams of the Horde – the cult-like presence of all those Hordak clones, Prime himself, the chip, the electric coursing through her body as she shot it at her friends. They came too fast and too fleeting to recall, but Scorpia jerked awake in a cold, clammy sweat. Her appendages *hurt*, especially her shoulders, like someone was squeezing them too hard. That was weird, though, because her shoulders were exoskeleton and wouldn't give under a hard squeeze.
What might be weirder was that, for a moment of fuzziness, she imagined Catra squeezing her shoulders, nails biting into her exoskeleton, her face and ears scrunched and sharp teeth gnashing but Scorpia couldn't make out the words. The scorpion blinked and squinted and the feline's visage faded into nothing. Just her imagination, it seemed.
It left her in a cold chill, and the scorpion pawed clumsily at her communicator, pulling it to her. She wanted to check the time – was it a normal time to call Perfuma or should she wait? It was hard to tell time, there, under the table, but gosh…she felt so sore, so cold, and wanted so badly to see Perfuma's face and hear her voice. Scorpia tapped the communicator, staring at its dark screen for a long moment before she realized it wasn't illuminating.
Her stomach dropped as she finally realized what had happened.
Her communicator was dead.
No…! No, no no!
She kept tapping the communicator, ignoring the strange pain in her pincers, willing it to turn on even if just for a moment even as tears blurred her vision and heaves escaped her throat. If she could just make a last call to Perfuma...! Scorpia wasn't even sure what she'd say. Part of her wanted to call and tell her she loved her. Part of her wanted to call for her help, for her comfort or reassurance but now it was too late!
Eventually she dropped the communicator and curled up on her stomach – it was the most comfortable position she could get into, with the pain in her tail and claws.
It was fine…!
It was fine it was fine it was fine!
She'd be okay soon, and once she was better she could tell Perfuma…she wasn't sure what she'd tell her, but it didn't matter. She'd be okay soon and once she was she'd get to see Perfuma! That'd give her something to look forward to.
She would be okay! She was okay. She was okay.
The scorpion was so tired.
So very, very tired.
Dreams and nightmares came and went in a blur, as did consciousness, but other than the feelings they left behind she couldn't recall anything. Scorpia had no idea how much time was passing but part of her didn't care. She felt lousy, fuzzy and everything hurt, so whenever unconsciousness came for her, she gladly slipped into it.
At a point, she could hear someone calling for her, but it was so faint, so fuzzy, she couldn't grasp it. As soon as she began to question if someone was speaking to her, the thought was gone. However, a sudden burst of pain through her claw and Scorpia shot up from startlement and pain. She slammed her head on /something/ and sank down on her stomach, raising her pincers to shield her head, but gosh her pincers hurt. Her shoulders hurt. Everything hurt. Why did she hurt so much?
She squinted her eyes open to see forms hovering above her. The forms were shapeless, colorless, for a long time Scorpia could only stare at them as she tried to take in their features. Eventually, the forms began to take shape and Scorpia could make out the concerned face of little Frosta above her.
Dulled elation warmed the scorpion.
"H.. …hey, little buddy…" She lifted her claw in invitation, but didn't realize how much she starved for affection hidden down in Horror Hall until Frosta shimmied her way over. Part of her wanted to hug the little girl close, but her claws hurt too much to do so.
"Scorpia?"
It wasn't until she heard Perfuma's voice that she recalled that there had been two shapes. It took a long moment to focus on that sound, that shape, and that it wasn't a dream or a wishful thought.
Perfuma was here…! She was here!
"Perfuma…? Gosh, hi... … I'm so glad... to see you…!"
She could hear Perfuma's voice, but she couldn't wrap her head around her answer. In the haze she saw something coming towards her and brought her trembling claws up to shield herself. Scorpia didn't quite see Perfuma's hand pass between them, but she did feel her fingers brush through her short hair, rub her sore scalp and feel her forehead. The flower princess' touch felt heavenly, and Scorpia leaned her head into Perfuma's hand.
Gosh, she had missed her! She had missed her /so/ much!
It was so hard to think, hard to focus on what Perfuma was saying – she could hear her voice but most of the words were like the hum of a tune she couldn't follow the melody to. Occasionally she could pick out a few words, here and there. Did Perfuma want them to leave?
Where were they? Scorpia couldn't recall. Wherever it was, she remembered bringing herself there. This was her burrow. She couldn't remember why but it wasn't safe to be anywhere else! She needed to stay, and she tried to stammer this to Perfuma!
Whatever she said was the wrong thing, because Perfuma was moving to leave on her own…! No…! No, no no! Please don't. /Please!/
Did Perfuma think Scorpia was rejecting her? Had some of /Prime's/ words slipped out? She couldn't remember. She couldn't even remember how she got where she was now, or what she had just said, if anything.
She wasn't sure what to say, or what she was saying. Scorpia's throat felt dry and her thoughts spinning too much for her to put together any coherent thoughts as she tried to drag herself along the floor.
Scorpia felt a flash of movement and suddenly Frosta was leaving – was gone, and her rapidly receding back brought with it a surge of panic. Her stomach tightened painfully as she scrambled to find the words to call out, but Perfuma blocked her view with that gentle smile of hers, and her equally gentle voice as she assured that she was here. She was staying, then? Thank the garnet – well, the Heart Stone. Thank it. Thank it.
Soon she could hear Entrapta's distinctive voice speaking with Perfuma. There was something oddly soothing about hearing two of her closest friends speaking to each other nearby, even if she couldn't pick up what they were saying.
In her mind's eye, she could imagine herself sitting at a table with Perfuma and Entrapta, watching them converse but paying more attention to their faces and their mannerisms than anything they were saying specifically (or maybe, for some reason, she just couldn't hear them).
At a point, Perfuma turned to her and spoke with an inflection that implied a question. Scorpia blinked. The blonde reached over and brushed her fingers through her hair, the scorpion melting under her touch.
"Does it hurt?"
Hurt? Scorpia wasn't sure she understood.
"Does your exoskeleton hurt?"
Oh.
Well that, yes. Yes it did. In a weird way. Sensitive. Was that how it felt for people with soft, fingered hands like Perfuma? She imagined it would be more like how her face felt, or her stomach or bicep, except her claws, if they had skin rather than an exoskeleton.
Had she answered the question? She couldn't recall.
What was the question again?
"How do you feel otherwise?"
Oh! How did she feel! Yes, that was the question. Part of her wanted to say fine! Just fine! But she couldn't wrap her head around the words. She felt odd, hazy.
Tired. Just a little tired.
"A little?"
Just a little.
She could feel Perfuma's fingers trail down the back of her head to her neck – a small shiver running through her frame when they brushed past the scar on the back of her neck – down to rub between her shoulders. It felt wonderful, and Scorpia leaned into her. Part of her wanted to embrace the other woman, but she couldn't move herself to do so and she wasn't sure why, but she didn't question it.
"Has anything like this ever happened before?"
Like this?
Oh! Her exoskeleton!
In her mind's eye, she could envision the inside of her bedroom, but it was so much bigger! She wasn't sure why, because she'd had that room all her life. Yet she could remember her claws and tail hurt then, too, didn't they? But there was this…debris on the floor. Like she was shedding? She could recall feeling painfully embarrassed and gross about it, pushing the pieces under the bed. But that wasn't the same, was it?
The memory felt strange, though, because she could also remember hunkering down in Horror Hall, in a fetal position with her tail wrapped around her body on the crumbled throne beneath her grandfather's portrait. She couldn't remember if she shedded anything there. All she could remember was her claws and tail hurting so, so much, and an unsettling fear that it was really not safe to let anyone see her. It was…it was just hide and seek, and Grandad was looking out for her! It was fine!
She also remembered bits and pieces of other moments – hiding under her bed, hiding inside of Horror Hall again, this time behind the throne. Burying some strange, translucent shards because she didn't know what else to do with them and feared getting into trouble if they were found.
Was this all the same event? She couldn't recall. How long ago was this? A few years ago, maybe? Lots of years ago?
Scorpia blinked as she watched Perfuma, suddenly unsure of what she had said or if she had answered Perfuma's question. What was her question, again? Scorpia couldn't recall.
The gnawing fear subsided as Perfuma rubbed her back. At first she couldn't pick up what she said, but the affirming tone in itself was soothing, as were the few words she did pick up.
"Would you like to cuddle?"
Yeah! Always!
Scorpia could imagine herself smiling broad, scooting closer to Perfuma at the table they shared, and leaning into her. Perfuma guided her to lay on her side, and the dining area she imagined shifted into a bedroom – Perfuma's – and the two were cuddling like they so often did.
It wasn't long before the scorpion lulled back into unconsciousness, and within it a comforting dream of the two of them feeding each other some kind of tiny food. She didn't recognize the taste, but then Scorpia had such a limited palette that she likely wouldn't have known what it was unless it was made of the Horde Rations. Maybe it was something one of them or the others made for Entrapta? She did love tiny food! Scorpia found it tasteless, but the act was comforting and romantic and it made her stomach rumble. Truthfully, she was so elated just to be near Perfuma that she would have eaten dirt had the flower princess asked it of her.
The dream was interrupted by a sharp pain in her shoulder, drawing a yelp from her. Was someone trying to rip off her exoskeleton?!
Her eyes shot open (were they closed?) and she found she wasn't inside of Perfuma's bedroom, but inside of somewhere else. Frosta's form took shape in front of her, and for a moment she could only stammer and blink at the little girl.
"Scorpia?" She could hear Perfuma's voice. "We need to get your shoulder pads off. Can you get them off?"
Her pauldron? Perfuma wanted it off? Why? What was happening?
Scorpia couldn't form the questions, and also didn't want to risk upsetting her by it. She could recall the backlash of questioning Catra's orders, after all. She did as she was asked – or tried to. But it hurt. It just hurt so much. Why did her shoulder hurt so much? Why did her claws and tail hurt so much, for that matter?
She couldn't. She couldn't.
"Okay… I'm going to try to get the other one off, but let me know if it hurts, okay? I'll be as gentle as I can."
Scorpia wasn't sure why Perfuma wanted them off, but for the moment she could pick up the words – the request. It sounded urgent, in a way, and Scorpia would abide. Perfuma had seen her dressed in even less.
She could feel the pressure in her shoulder, the push of the pauldron, but it /hurt/. It was so weird, because the scorpion wasn't a stranger to pain. She normally could take pain like a champ! Yet this pain was just different, more intense for her. The intensity of it scared her, but she held on for Perfuma's sake. Suddenly, she felt a more intense ripping sensation in her shoulder and she sucked in her breath.
The pressure immediately relented, accompanied by Perfuma's frantic apology. "Sorry! Are you okay?"
She didn't know the answer to that, or even how to respond. Scorpia never wanted to hear Perfuma worry, especially about her. Sweet, caring and strong as she was, Perfuma only deserved the best. She squinted into the haze – for a moment she couldn't remember where they were. Perfuma's room? The Fright Zone? She couldn't recall, and she couldn't really absorb the information she was seeing around her.
It…it didn't matter, did it? Scorpia could faintly make out Perfuma and Frosta's alarmed expressions and forced a smile for them. "Don't.. don't worry. I'm okay, I'm okay."
Was she? She couldn't recall. Scorpia could hear Entrapta's voice again – though she couldn't see her. She and Perfuma were talking again. Scorpia drifted back into a haze once again.
Time passed in a series of jolts and stops – fleeting touches, brief thoughts and then oblivion in between. In one moment, she could feel the gentle embrace of Perfuma's arms around her. In another, she could hear Bow speaking with Perfuma. In her mind's eye, she could envision hanging out with them in someone's bedroom, or in a livingroom – somewhere with a couch or a bed that she and Perfuma could cuddle on.
She heard Mermista's voice and the dreamscape shifted to accommodate. They were in a livingroom. Scorpia was cuddling with Perfuma on the couch – on the tip of her tongue was a joke or a comment or a word of appreciation that the couch was large and wide enough to fit them. Her tail and claws hurt distantly, like an annoying sound she was trying to ignore. They were at Spinnerella and Netossa's perhaps? Yes, they had talked about board games and card game parties, of which the group was occasionally invited. Scorpia couldn't quite remember exactly how their home looked, so she made up the details.
She could picture Mermista and Sea Hawk murmuring together over a hand of cards, Frosta sitting on the edge of the couch and Bow sitting with Adora, Glimmer and Catra – though the latter three were a silhouette - and she could hear the hum of voices. Maybe they were explaining the mechanics of the game? Scorpia couldn't quite grasp their words – couldn't understand the mechanics of the game they were about to play. That's okay. They'd show her.
"Can you repeat back what I said?"
Perfuma asked her a question, and for a fleeting second Scorpia was almost certain she knew what the blonde asked of her, and she answered "Okay" in kind. Though as soon as she said it, she realized she couldn't remember what Perfuma had said. She was too tired to think further into it, and just settled against the other woman's comforting embrace and soon forgot anything had been said at all.
The warm mental image of a board game night quickly erupted into a cacophony of pain and water. Her eyes shot open and their environment was so very bright – with a bolt of horror she realized she was out of cover! Dug out of her burrow?!
For a flash she thought of the battle against Horde Prime, Mermista's power – the water spraying across the floor, connecting them to their loved ones…water that Scorpia could electrify. Those chips kept them at Horde Prime's side, in his /light/, of which she couldn't will herself a burrow to hide no matter how much she had yearned for it. The whispers of the chip were gone and yet she could almost hear them now, like phantoms.
She would not have any of them! Her body was her own!
Scorpia thrashed her tail, too confused to think of who she fought against but eager to get them away nonetheless. She soon felt Perfuma's arms around her neck, her voice urgent but incomprehensible.
Scorpia pulled the other woman into her embrace, ignoring the pain in her claws, and pushed forward to shield Perfuma's body with her own. They hit something – a wall? That was fine. Whatever cover they could get would suffice. Even if there was no cover, Horde Prime would take Perfuma over Scorpia's dead body!
"I gotcha.. I gotcha.. I gotcha.. I gotcha…"
Even as she assured Perfuma, Scorpia hadn't realized the other woman had taken her face in her hands until she was gently urged to look at her. Perfuma was speaking directly to her, and she strained to listen yet could only pick out fleeting words here and there – and as soon as her ears picked up the words, they were gone like sand trough her sore claws. She just couldn't grasp the words long enough to retain them, with her /too bright/ surroundings and /too sore/ body, everything felt wrong.
She soon felt something else against her face, soft with varied textures. Scorpia recognized Patchy as soon as she felt him on her cheek, and she looked past the stuffy to Frosta's concerned, determined face. Her little buddy was here…! And she brought Patchy!
Frosta was speaking, though her words were muffled trough the veil of exhaustion as well. Patchy… she was speaking for Patchy. Something about friends being here, and that he'd sting. She wasn't sure what Frosta meant, but their too-bright surroundings were no longer so bright. Less like the battlefield of Horde Prime and more like…she wasn't sure what. It was hard to think. Had she burrowed?
Gosh, she was so tired. So, so tired.
Her consciousness could barely grasp what came next. The feelings, thoughts and actions all felt like a dream she couldn't recall. She dreamt of that night in the grotto, singing her sneaky song about being a spy on the center stage. Except she was singing a different song, and this time Sea Hawk was singing with her in a duet! Even just being able to sing at all and not be degraded for it was something special, something Scorpia never thought she could have. Perfuma and the others – sans Catra – stood around the stage – some watching, some talking to each other, but everyone having a good time. That's what mattered most to the scorpion, that everyone had a good time.
She was normally so nervous singing in front of others, and a small part of her quietly acknowledged that shyness, but Sea Hawk's singing and the others enjoying themselves encouraged her to continue. At one point, she was near startled out of her song with water, and she looked up to see cracks in the glass. That was bad, right? Shouldn't she do something about it?
Sea Hawk continued their song, giving her a knowing nod. She wasn't sure what 'knowing' that nod 'knew', but he glanced over at the cracked glass and yet continued singing even as he too was dampened by the spraying water. Was that what they were supposed to do? Keep singing?
Mermista was here, and she was the expert on water, so Scorpia needed to continue the performance and keep everyone entertained – or at least distracted – while the mermaid fixed the problem. Yes, that was the plan. Right?
So she continued.
The water hurt, especially her shoulder.
In the back of her mind, she wondered if it meant that there was something wrong with the water, or with her.
The thought fluttered out her mind almost as soon as it came.
Eventually, there was a sharp, almost ripping pain in her shoulder and her singing cut off into a groan through gritted teeth. The visage of the underwater grotto shifted Perfuma – had she climbed on stage? – kneeling with her – was Scorpia kneeling?
She could see Mermista, Entrapta, Frosta and Sea Hawk's blurred silhouettes around her – the latter's song still singing. Perfuma was there, encouraging her to take measured breaths.
They were… they were …Her exoskeleton was broken wasn't it? Something was wrong with it, and they were fixing it, right? She felt Patchy against her and pressed her face against it, willing herself still as they did whatever they had to do. She didn't understand it, and she couldn't bring herself to ask – for that brief moment, she knew she wouldn't be able to wrap her head around it. It was hard enough to think at all.
Eventually the pain receded (barely) in one shoulder and erupted in the other. She focused on the others there with her, on the song Sea Hawk was still singing – even if she couldn't envision the grotto anymore. He gave her a thumbs up, and she weakly hummed with him, trying to focus on anything but the pain.
Gosh, she never really lamented the general distant numbness that was her usual exoskeleton. She never had the sensitivity in it as she had with the fleshier parts of her body, and sometimes she had wondered what it was like for people who had skin all over. If this was what it was like, the others could have it.
Eventually there was a release to the pain – it didn't necessarily subside, but it wasn't so agonizing and just leveling down to a lesser amount of pain was worth being grateful for.
The scorpion felt faint, and began to fade in and out of consciousness again. In spurts, she felt odd sensations.
Removing a glove – or what Scorpia imagined removing gloves on a fingered person to feel like. The arachnid could, and did sometimes, wear gloves, though she had a hard time getting them on herself. When pulling them off there was a vague slipping sensation.
Cold and wet. Her thoughts had abandoned the Grotto and rooted her in the Fright Zone. It was raining and freezing. Her shoulders weren't hurting so much.
She faintly heard Perfuma say something about her tail. She wanted to touch it? She needed to? Scorpia could barely think to answer. Part of her was just so tired, she didn't care what Perfuma did with it. The scorpion just wanted to sleep.
Warm and cold, at the same time. Warm in some areas, cold in others. She flipped between finding comfort in the heat, or cold, or both, and feeling repelled from it. Comfortingly numb was sometimes too cold, or a rapid return to a throbbing sore as the chill wore off. Sometimes the heat felt soothing, easing the pain, and sometimes the material against her exoskeleton felt abrasive. Sometimes she couldn't think to gauge it at all, dulled by malaise.
She could feel the comforting, hard spherical surface of Emily beneath her. The feeling of motion. She was riding on top of Emily? Vaguely she could envision herself at the war room of Bright Moon, like the first time she came in and politely waited for them to take notice so that she could plea for their help to save Entrapta-
Through her closed eyes she could still see the blinding bright light. Prime's light? Had he found her burrow? She wanted none of it!
She could feel herself falling backwards, unsure of whether she had knocked herself off balance or if she had stepped back to escape that garish light to find that there was a nothing behind her – was it a hole? A lower platform?
Scorpia tried to flail her claws, her stomach jumping to her throat. Her mind skipped and suddenly she was sitting down, hiding behind her bandaged pincers. She could feel the pain and tension in her erect tail, ready to strike Prime down.
"Shh, it's okay," she felt a hand against her flank. Perfuma. She'd recognize that soothing tone and touch anywhere. "What's wrong? What happened? Did we hurt you?"
Scorpia stared at Perfuma through her pincers, her mind going blank as she tried to recall what just happened. Her heart pounded in her chest and her throat tightened. She felt paralyzed, her thoughts and memories scrambled like a book in a language she only knew the gist of. Flipping through its pages she could swear she knew the words, knew the story it told, but nothing.
In her mind's eye, the book dropped from parted claws as Scorpia felt Perfuma's hand against her cheek. All she could think to do was lean her face into the other woman's hand, so she did. They were back in the darkness, in her burrow, in the shadows far away from Prime's terrifying light.
The burrow began to move, it seemed. It almost felt like flying, or like someone lifting a bed with her in it. That was weird though, wasn't it? Scorpia was way too heavy to lift normally, and especially lift with a bed. Maybe it was the ground that was moving, pulling the burrow along with it? She could hear Sea Hawk singing again, and she could envision herself singing a duet with him – in the Grotto maybe, but she wasn't sure. Her imagination couldn't conjure the environment clearly. It was a remix? A cover? It was a new, duet version of her spy song.
The song and visual faded, first into a hum and then into nothing.
At a point, she dreamt of a sleepover. Perfuma helping Scorpia into her nightgown. It was kinda weird wearing such soft and comfortable clothes, wasn't it? It blew the arachnid's mind sometimes that people wore things just because it was comfortable. Scorpia loved the idea in theory – to feel soft, gentle, colorful things against her bulky frame all the time – but she wasn't sure she was allowed. She wasn't, was she? That would have gotten her in trouble at the Horde, or at least ridiculed.
But she was allowed, and it felt so nice. It made the pain in her exoskeleton a little more bearable. Scorpia laid back and the bed felt like a cloud. Man, she must really be tired if her rock hard bed felt so inviting now. Her eyes felt so heavy, and part of her wanted nothing more then to sleep.
And soon she drifted. In the far distance she could hear voices, muffled and unreadable. Sometmes she felt like she was flying – through such a cold, /cold/ sky. Sometimes parts of her felt so /hot/, uncomfortably hot, but hot from the inside like a volcano. Or, at least, that's what Scorpia imagined a volcano to feel like.
Was that what the Fire Princess had felt like, sometimes?
Her claws clicked.
Sometimes she felt both too hot and too cold, as if she was warming herself by the electric forming around her body in the middle of the arctic.
In the throne room of the Fright Zone – a makeshift throne room, not her Grandad's - She could recall Prime's hand clamped down on her shoulder – between her exoskeleton and her neck, as she had stared at the empty space where Perfuma's flower remained. His exam clarified that her chip was intact and working, which meant there was no malfunction on its part, which meant that it was her own resistance that caused her to miss her loved ones so purposefully. She tightened her lips, her insides both warmed with relief that she had indeed missed and Perfuma and Adora escaped safely, as well as electrified with terror.
"Do you think this will save you?"
His whisper was far too close to her ear. As much as she loved intimacy, she hated /his/. His grip made her rigid and his whisper made her skin crawl.
"Do you really think they're going to keep coming back /for you/? Do you think that faithful display is endless? All I've seen through your eyes, in your mind, you know just as well as I do that they're losing wind. They're losing faith."
No. No they're not. Perfuma wasn't, at least.
And Perfuma was right! Scorpia was able to resist, in the end, just for that moment.
But only for that moment.
They knew she missed on purpose, didn't they? That their faith wasn't in vain?
"They're tiring of you."
In the moment it felt like she could feel her blood vessels – which was pretty weird because that wasn't a thing, was it? Was it her nerves she was feeling – and the chip weaving its way into them? It hurt and she wanted nothing more than to tear them out of her body, but she couldn't move her limbs to do so.
She felt Prime's grip tighten on her shoulder, a spike of fear coursing through her forcibly still frame. A small thought wormed its way to her consciousness – whether it was her own or Prime's she wasn't sure, and she tried to squelch it as soon as it came but by the relaxed grip on her shoulder she knew Prime saw it.
Prime sees all.
The brief thought spoke of wishing Perfuma and Adora would come back for her, disable the chip, knock down Prime, bring down the roof, do something. Help her. Rescue her. Scorpia direly didn't want to be there. Perfum had urged her to resist the chip, and Scorpia tried. She tried not just then, but all the time. Any form of resistance hurt terribly, and took everything she had to even deviate just a little. What was she supposed to do? Did Perfuma not realize the limits of Scorpia's resistance? She couldn't save herself, could she?
Or perhaps she /should/ be able to, but just wasn't strong enough, competent enough to save herself enough to let them save her? Maybe it was Scorpia's fault they couldn't retrieve her. Surely that's why they had come, wasn't it? Perfuma had called for her. Scorpia hadn't been able to stop herself from attacking them. It had taken everything she had just to redirect her lightning enough to let them escape.
She was still learning how to even use her lightning properly – she had it so briefly.
Perfuma had left a flower behind – thought to do so even when they were escaping. That was a sign, wasn't it? She wasn't giving up. They weren't giving up. They would come back for her. They would. They would.
She just needed to hang on until then.
"Scorpia…" Prime's voice whispered. She clenched her teeth. His relaxed hand drifted off of her shoulder to touch her collarbone.
/Too close to her throat/! The scorpion near jolted out of her exoskeleton!
"Woah-woah, it's okay." Scorpia stared at Bow's confused face as he gently pressed against her collarbones. She didn't think to move, barely able to recognize his visage as her thoughts scattered.
She urgently looked for Perfuma. She had been looking for her, hadn't she? Scorpia could recall the urge to see her, even if she couldn't remember what led up to it.
Finally, she turned her attention back to Bow, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed. Oh, wow! Bow was here! Bow had… Bow had…been in space, hadn't he? He had been far away on a trip, hadn't he? When was he supposed to return? Was he back on time, or had returned early? Did that mean Adora, Glimmer and Catra had returned, too?
She asked as much, the words evaporating from her thoughts as soon as they left her lips. She tried so hard to focus her questions, listen to his answers.
They had been looking for First Ones, hadn't they? Scorpia hoped for their sake that they found them. She could imagine how much it would mean to Adora, knowing how much it meant to the scorpion to find her own people. Scorpia at least had pictures and a rough idea of what might have happened. Did Adora have anything at all?
Most importantly, Scorpia had her found family. She had the Rebellion, now. She had Frosta, Bow, Perfuma.
Her stomach clenched as she couldn't quite recall her conversation with Prime but she did recall the general feeling of it – the urge to crawl out of her too-hot-and-too-cold skin as well as the desire to find Perfuma, maybe burrow wherever she was, and hide there until this panicked feeling subsided. Yet with that desire came a heavy feeling that she didn't deserve it, or them.
She could faintly hear Bow ask a question, and she answered it on auto pilot. "I…I'm okay."
Had she done something wrong? She had, hadn't she? Perfuma had been here in the Fright Zone with her recently, hadn't she? It was busy in Plumeria and she wasn't supposed to be here, right? Scorpia couldn't remember, but she felt like that was true. Perfuma had taken the time to come here, again, just as she had when Scorpia was chipped. But she should have been able to weather it herself, hadn't she? Scorpia wasn't sure – her thoughts were muddled – but she couldn't shake the feeling that Perfuma had reason to be tired of her.
Restless, the scorpion wanted to get up, walk, look for Perfuma and just make sure everything was alright. Everything was fine, right?
"What're you looking for?" Bow asked.
Perfuma. Was she mad? At her?
Perfuma wasn't mad, nor was she there? She had returned to Plumeria, but she was getting medicine? She was going to come back?
Oh Gosh, she didn't need to do all that…! She didn't need to go out of her way! Scorpia would never mean to cause her so much trouble!
She could hear Bow speaking, but she could hardly hear him over the pounding of her heart. Scorpia urgently wanted to get up, to find her, to tell her she was fine and not to-
The door swung open, causing the scorpion to jump in startlement. Her thoughts fled like Etherian animals from a Horde Tank as she found herself staring at Catra. The Magicat was standing in the doorway – she faintly noted Adora next to her, but that acknowledgement dispersed as soon as it came.
Catra had /that/ look on her face. She knew that look all too well. Her tail was bristling – her fur standing on end notably even from their distance. Scorpia knew that posture, and the venom that soon came after. It confirmed in her mind that she /did/ do something wrong, even if she couldn't work out the specifics. Did that make it worse?
Scorpia recoiled, hiding behind her raised claws as she stammered apologies.
She could hear Catra's shout, but couldn't pick up the words through the hammering of her heart. Scorpia soon felt the bed moving, heard more voices – some shouting, some speaking, but it was all hum to her as she urgently apologized over and over again.
Her sorries trailed off as she felt something soft patting the top of her head. She peered up from her claws to see Frosta, holding Patchy up high.
Frosta, her friend, her little buddy, one of her favorite people, a cherished member of her little found family.
/You know that they're losing wind./ In that moment she couldn't recall where she knew those words from, who had said them. Catra? Prime? Was it just something she knew? Was she too needy, took up too much space, too exhausting or annoying or too much /her/? Part of her was afraid to ask, but she needed to know.
"Frosta…? Frosta…? Is.. is everything okay…?"
"Is everything okay?"
"B-between us-? Y-you're not mad?"
Frosta's yell wasn't as alarming as Catra's – Frosta often yelled even when she was happy – but it was hard to make her words out clearly. Only a few words could pierce the fog - No. She was going to kill someone. Take Patchy.
She did as she was instructed, holding Patchy and watching the ice princess work through wide eyes. Even as the pain in her claws numbed from the cold – and the rest of her body shivered from the mix of cold and heat – she couldn't wrap her head around what Frosta was doing or why. Yet, it felt too familiar for her to ask. It was almost like forgetting a close Horde member's name, right? There came a point where it was awkward to ask anymore.
Is there something else she should be doing? Should she help? Apologize?
It was then she felt a nudge, and turned to see Bow – she had forgotten he was there until now. His movements were a blur, but even in her hazy vision she could make out his open arms. His words clarified his gesture. "Can I have a hug?"
Always. /Always/.
She leaned into him, hugging him and feeling his gentle embrace. She hadn't realized how much she wanted to be held until she was. There was something so reassuring and comforting about embracing a close friend. It made his assurances that Perfuma would be here soon more real – like she was really coming back and that things were okay between them, between the group. He offered to tell her stories of the places they saw and she accepted, laying her cheek down on the fabric of his shirt as she listened.
Bow's voice and generally calm, optimistic demeanor had a soothing quality to it. It always did. There was a kind of calm confidence mixed with a gentleness that made him easy to trust. It was that tone he used when he talked her down in the ship, when the chip drove her to attack him and he urged her just to trust him. She did trust him, then and now.
It was a welcome distraction. Scorpia's attention drifted in and out, but whenever she snapped back to attention Bow would smile to her and urge her to settle. Eventually she just focused on the sound of his voice. At one point, she vaguely noticed Entrapta enter the room in a blur of purple pigtails and metal. She went over to do…a thing…Scorpia didn't know what and she was too tired to ask. Bow was speaking, though she couldn't tell if he was talking to Entrapta or to her.
Sometime after – she wasn't sure how much time had passed – she heard Bow's enthusiastic voice, more voices. Scorpia's reaction delayed – the thought to investigate fluttered into her mind but was hard to grasp, like a gnat flittering around her cold, clunky pincers. She felt a familiar touch – Perfuma's fingers through her hair. She'd recognize her closest friend's affection anywhere. There was a softness and strength in it that was hard to describe – Scorpia wouldn't have thought the two could go together until she experienced it for the first time.
However, with that surge of elation also came a spike of fear as the scorpion tried – and failed as her mind was too hazy to focus – to read her closest friend's face. The whispers of doubt and worry sped through her, and she straightened up. Urgently, her mind raced for the right words to tell the other woman how much she meant to her, how grateful she was to see her, be near her, how sorry she was for all of this even if she could hardly wrap her head around what 'all of this' was. "Perfuma..! Hi…! I'm so-I'm so glad to see you!"
She soon found herself in Perfuma's arms, hugging her tightly and relishing the flower princess' embrace as she heard her answer. "I'm so happy to see you, too, hon."
Scorpia's tail curled with relief. Perfuma was there, and not angry with her. Everything was okay. It was okay, it was okay.
"See? I told you she'd be right back." She could hear Bow's words more clearly now. Hearing him state her prior worries out loud made her tense.
"Scorpia? Were you worried I wasn't coming back?"
Scorpia froze, her throat felt like it was closing – her thoughts raced too much to form a response. What…what should she say? Had she said too much? Catra always said she never knew when to shut up. Scorpia couldn't remember admitting those fears to Bow but she must have, because he knew and now Perfuma knew and how was she supposed to explain?
She felt the flower princess pull back and the scorpion almost panicked, but she paused when Perfuma felt her forehead. Her hand felt so cool against her hot scalp – it was both comforting but also made her shiver harder, as if her body just realized how cold she felt.
"I hate to rush you," Perfuma looked away as she said this. Scorpia blearily followed her gaze to see Entrapta – the arachnid had forgotten that the scientist was there until now. "-but Scorpia has a fever. We need to get a sample of her blood to Hordak so he can test the medicines."
Beads of sweat trickled down her face as the words sunk in. Fever. Blood. Medicine.
/Doctor/.
No! No no no that wasn't necessary! Not necessary! She didn't need a doctor! She was fine! There were plenty of weird things she did, plenty of little aches and pains and unpleasant things her body was doing but she could weather it! She could weather it, it'd all go away and she'd be fine! She didn't need a medic, and she didn't need to trouble them further.
Her mind raced and she stammered, frantic and pleading as she tried to push herself up. Her stomach felt sick and part of her wanted to dig deeper into her burrow, where she could remain hidden until this was all over, she could just shove these terrible events aside like a nightmare and forget all about them, and go back to life as normal.
"You're not bothering us!"
Bow's words cut through her pleading and she froze. She felt Perfuma's grip stiffen as well.
"What…?"
Scorpia's heart pounded in her ears as she tried to form the words to insist that she was fine, not to worry about what Bow was saying – she shouldn't have told him anything – but her throat tightened and she couldn't find the words. Her heart dropped further as he continued, frantically wanting him to stop but unable to push her voice or her body to interfere. Through the pounding of her heart, the exhaustion and her blood rushing in her ears, she could hardly make out what Bow said. She could pick out a few words here and there – "Afraid you were mad at her," "The things she said," "Being too much trouble."
She should say something, shouldn't she? Argue against what he said, play it down, dismiss it. Everything was fine! But she could hardly organize her thoughts, or recall his words with enough clarity to dispute them. In the moment she couldn't recall what she had told him, or why he knew what he knew, or what Perfuma knew, or even what they saw. She couldn't remember much of the previous…few hours? Days? What had Scorpia done during that time? She couldn't recall what led up to this, not really. /Had/ she been too much trouble? Scorpia could feel – see – Perfuma's dark eyes watching her, perhaps waiting for an explanation. Was she angry? She didn't look angry, but in Scorpia's nervousness she couldn't really read her expression. Panic surged as she found she didn't know what to say. Her mind just…blanked.
Desperate, all she could think to do was apologize, hiding behind her curled tail and raised pincers. "I-I'm sorry… I'm sorry…!"
She knew she should say /why/ she was sorry, explain it. That was the makings of a proper apology, wasn't it? Yet she couldn't organize her thoughts well enough to form a coherent explanation, a coherent apology, a coherent anything. All she could think to do was apologize, again and again and again.
Scorpia could hear their voices – especially Frosta's - but she couldn't make out the words – too afraid to hear them, and focused on apologizing. Perhaps if she did so enough, they could overlook this and things could go back to normal.
But what if they /couldn't/? What if she had wrecked things between them?! She just—she didn't know what to do – how to make this better. She didn't-
"Shh…shh…" She felt Perfuma's hands gently rub her upper arms, hear the soothing tone in her voice as the flower princess shushed her. "It's okay. You're with us, now. You'll never be sick or hurt and alone, ever again."
Scorpia paused at this, daring to peek at Perfuma from between her pincers. The flower princess' warm smile greeted her on the other side, and she reached in to stroke her cheek. "You know what the hardest part of all of this has been…?" Her voice was unmistakably warm. Scorpia felt the tension begin to ease from her bristled form as she listened. The thundering of her heart subsided and for the moment she was able to grasp Perfuma's words. "It was not being able to reach you, not knowing where you were, or what had happened to you."
"I am so happy you're here. There's nowhere else I'd rather be then here by your side, helping you through this." Perfuma's visage blurred and Scorpia could feel a lump in her throat. She wanted to believe her so, so badly, so she did. Perfuma had never lied to her. Her gentle assertion was the same now as it ever was, making the large former Horde soldier feel protected in a way that would have almost seemed laughable to anyone else, especially given their size difference. But she did. "The others feel the same way, I know it."
"We do!"
Scorpia's vision felt hazy as she shifted her gaze, like the visuals around her jumbled into static whenever she moved, but she faintly focused on Frosta and Bow, who were smiling back at her. Things were…really okay between them. They weren't mad. They wanted to be here, with her.
Her vision blurred until she could barely make out their forms. The arachnid hadn't realized she was holding her breath until it came out in a sob. She felt Perfuma pull her close, and the others join in, and the sob erupted into bawling.
She tried to embrace the group in return but her claws /hurt/ on contact, and in the end she could only lean into them. Their embrace was firm, but careful. Scorpia couldn't remember entirely what led her to this moment – how they got to where they were, or even where exactly they were, or what was happening to her, yet the relief in that moment was indescribable.
They were here. They had come here, for her, and they weren't angry with her for it.
She had no idea what she could do to make it up to them, or to show her appreciation but in the moment she let go of the thought and just relished their closeness. She didn't know how long they stayed there, but eventually her crying subsided, leaving the scorpion exhausted. At some point she had sunk down, laying her head on Perfuma's lap and faintly feeling the cold washcloth against her temple. She must have dozed at some point because the others had moved position. Entrapta was talking with Bow, and Perfuma and Frosta were with her on the bed. Their words had just been a stream of incomprehensible murmurs until one word from Perfuma pierced her dreamy haze like a needle in a balloon.
Doctor.
/I could ask one of the Plumerian doctors?/
Wuh-what?! Doctor? Wait-why? She was-she was fine! Whatever she had wasn't serious-it-it was the fever? She could faintly recall that she had one – Scorpia couldn't remember if it was something she heard one of them say or if the malaise and mix of hot and cold indicated the fever, but that was what she assumed and she rolled with it. She hid her face against Perfuma's stomach, hugging her around her waist. "W-wait—it's not—it's not needed! It's not that serious! I'm alright. I'm sure the fever will go away on its own!"
Surely that's happened before! Scorpia was a sturdy bug! She could recover from anything on her own!
"Maybe, but we can't risk it, sweetheart. And we want to treat your pain, too. Don't worry, it's a doctor's job to be a doctor. It wouldn't be any inconvenience to them at all." Perfuma's voice held a soothing tone, and she could feel the other woman's fingers brush through her dampened hair, yet Scorpia felt her stomach churn.
She could recall the terror she felt, much smaller and not nearly as hardened of an exoskeleton as she had now, nursing a cracked frame. Scorpia hardly interacted with doctors as a young girl, but she /saw/. She bore witness to doctors handling other Horde kids, and their aftermaths. They didn't come out better than they had been when they came in. The sounds that came out of the medical rooms weren't anything she'd want to recall.
She tightened her grip, not even feeling the pain in her claws at the moment – or perhaps she just wanted to shove any of that pain away.
No…! No, no no she was fine! She was just fine! Almost good as new, as it was!
Scorpia shot up to a sitting position, stammering as her thoughts raced as she thunked her claw against the bedframe – and immediately regretted it as pain spiked through her limb. She bit back a hiss of pain, grimacing as Frosta jumped and Perfuma caught her claw in her hands.
She could faintly hear Perfuma worry over her claw, the softened state of her exoskeleton, but Scorpia pushed herself to seem normal – not in pain, not unwell, not in any need of a doctor!
"S-see…? N-nearly good as new! I don't need a doctor! I'm okay, I'm okay!"
"Scorpia—" The arachnid nearly jumped out of her shell at the sound of Catra's voice. She froze, and looked to Catra with wide eyes. In her mind's eye, Catra was opening her mouth to yell at her, berate her for acting like a coward, or being too loud, or otherwise annoying them, or taking too much of their time when they had better things to do. It took a moment for Catra's actual words to sink in. She was…comforting her? It was hard to wrap her head around what Catra was saying – there was a difference between Rebellion and Horde doctors?
Perhaps…perhaps it was true. Catra didn't seem like she was lying. Yet Scorpia couldn't slow the pounding of her heart. Just thinking about seeing a doctor made her want to hide under the bed – dig a big hole and stay in it until this was over and everything could go back to normal again.
"We don't need a doctor! We have an Entrapta! Me!" Scorpia blinked, the tension easing as she looked to her friend. Entrapta was dramatically pointing at her. "So lay back and I'll figure out how to get that blood drawn in no time!"
Scorpia's eyes wavered. Entrapta was definitely no doctor, but gosh, she was as smart and capable as one and without all the sadism! If Scorpia trusted anyone in a 'doctor's role, it would be her. "Entrapta…"
With Perfuma's urging, Scorpia laid back down against her lap. She laid against her, feeling the cold cloth against her forehead once again and taking comfort in her presence – in the presence of her friends. There was a small buzz of tension at Catra being there – and she strained to listen to Catra's words – but the spike of adrenaline was subsiding and it was getting harder to focus. Catra's tone seemed okay, at least – neutral, sometimes, agitated at others. Perfuma's warmth and closeness made the arachnid feel safe, and eventually she began to doze again – or almost doze, but she startled semi-awake as Entrapta suddenly yanked the blankets from her legs. Scorpia blinked as Entrapta ordered her to give her one of her feet – wuh? What was happening? – and a blush heated her face even further than it already was when she realized the nightgown she was wearing. There wasn't anything specifically embarrassing about the garment, just that she hadn't yet worn it in front of anyone but Perfuma. Scorpia always dressed formally – in a uniform or a stylish dress up until this point. Was this too soft and effeminate for her? Would they think differently of her, or comment on it? She couldn't even recall changing into it. Maybe when she first got sick? Scorpia couldn't remember.
After a few seconds, Scorpia took note of Entrapta's posture and the syringe in her hand and realized what was happening. Oh, that's right—they…were talking about drawing her blood. Was that right? Scorpia wasn't entirely sure if she dreamed that answer or overheard it, or just made it up based on what she saw. It was hard to think straight.
Alright…it's fine, it's fine. She knew and trusted Entrapta. She could bare this.
"Scorpia!" The Black Garnet Princess blinked as Patchy popped up in front of her face, accompanied by Frosta's voice. "What's Patchy's favorite color!"
Wait, what?
The plush dropped out of view and was quickly replaced with Frosta's face, leaning in towards her as if about to tell a secret. "What's Patchy's favorite color? I wanna get him a little scarf for holiday!"
Scorpia could only stare at her. What… what was going on? Patchy's favorite color? It seemed…important, maybe? She wasn't sure. It took a moment for her to even recall what it was.
Red. It was red.
Like Scorpia's exoskeleton.
Was that right?
"Got it!" Entrapta's voice chimed in at the same time Frosta's did, and it felt like everything around her was moving more quickly than she could keep up with. Suddenly, Entrapta was gone. Wasn't she supposed to draw blood?
Wait, she did draw blood? The Rebellion way? Which didn't have to hurt?
It was all a little confusing, but Scorpia was grateful for it nonetheless. Grateful for them – for Frosta, her little buddy, for Perfuma, her closest friend, Entrapta her best friend (her thoughts turned to static before they could float to the dark place it sometimes did when she remembered that Catra wasn't quite her 'bestie' anymore), for Bow, for Adora, for Glimmer, for Catra even despite the rough direction their relationship had gone.
Scorpia was a lucky bug. An exhausted, lucky bug.
She could hear the others speaking, and she answered when she could, as best she could, but her answers were on auto pilot. At some point the others left – most of them anyway. Perfuma urged her to close her eyes and she did…but as her thoughts began to drift they immediately headed for a darker place – her stomach clenched with worry as it suddenly occurred to her (for the first time? She couldn't recall) that she didn't know how /long/ they had been here. How long had Scorpia been in this condition? How long had Frosta, Perfuma and the others been here with her? How long had she been ignoring her responsibilities to the Horde—the Fright Zone? It wasn't the Horde anymore, but she couldn't really call it Scorpioni if she was the only Scorpion, right? Should it have a new name?
She didn't want to think about that. Instead, her thoughts circled back around to the guilt and apprehension she felt at being such an inconvenience to her loved ones.
Scorpia squinted her eyes open. "…Perfuma?"
She…should explain herself, shouldn't she? Scorpia didn't know how, or where to even start. She didn't know what was happening. She could express her gratitude? Tell Perfuma how much this all means to her, how much she needs her? Yet… that would only put more pressure on her, wouldn't it? Would it drive her away? Catra always told her how clingy she was – too clingy. She could almost hear Catra in the back of her mind, warning her not to talk too much.
Her thoughts screeched to a halt when she felt Perfuma's calloused fingers gently knead her scalp.
"All questions and feelings are welcome, here."
Perfuma's gentle touch and voice held a soothing quality. There was something about her that felt like the warmth of the sun on a frigid day – soft and illuminating and sheltering against the biting cold. It felt so nice.
"I… I, uh… I hope I'm not…I mean…I… I'm sorry for keeping you so long. It's…been a while, right? Kind of…hard to keep track of time-b-but I know you're busy with your Kingdom, a-and…"
Frosta popped up like a prairie dog, but her visage and Perfuma's movement looked like static in Scorpia's half-lidded gaze. It was hard to keep up.
"There's no other place I'd rather be than here with you, Scorpia. You're so sweet, to worry about us when you're not feeling well and putting us first. That kindness and consideration are some of the many wonderful things that make you who you are."
The arachnid's gaze softened, relief relaxing her taut frame. She relished the feeling of Perfuma's fingers scratching against her scalp, and felt the smaller woman shift to embrace her. Scorpia curled her tail, savoring the contact.
"Sometimes, I worry that your kindness and consideration come at a cost."
A cost?
"I fear it might be hurting you."
Kindness and consideration can hurt? Scorpia wasn't sure she understood.
What she could understand was the petal-soft touch of Perfuma's lips against her cheek, followed by Perfuma's cheek against her own. "Just…it's okay to be selfish, sometimes."
Weirdly, it did make sense and yet it sounded wrong at the same time. Selfishness was okay, but it wasn't okay /for her/, it seemed? Scorpia wasn't so sure she felt at liberty to be selfish, not in any way she could think of. Still, she was too tired to analyze it.
She didn't need to, as Perfuma continued.
"It's okay to need our help, to be inconvenient. It's okay to need attention, comfort and reassurance, and it's okay to ask for what you need."
Her eyes wavered at that, and she touched her claw to Perfuma's hand. It felt weird – both sensitive and distant, maybe due to the towels wrapped around them. She would have bear-hugged the other woman, swooped her into her pincers and kissed her – if she could, if it would have been appropriate or wanted. Gosh, she loved her!
"I love you."
She was too tired and relieved to think about the timing, even after she said them. Scorpia might have even forgotten or not realized she uttered them aloud until she heard Perfuma respond "I love you, too," in kind, accompanied by an affectionate squeeze.
The scorpion felt like she could float, both wanting to relish the moment and also wanting to sink into sleep now that she wasn't anchored awake by fear.
"Try to get some rest. Would you like me to guide you through meditation?"
That…that sounded great.
Really, really great.
At some point, she drifted.
In and out, she drifted.
At one point, they were outside. They were fighting…something. Scorpia couldn't see what.
Were they playing a game? Yes, maybe this wasn't a real fight. It was a game. It had to be, because she didn't feel the tension of a fight. It was low stakes, like paint ball except with magic. Except the others were using magic. Scorpia clenched her jaw at the thought of using her lightning. Too dangerous for a game.
Too dangerous. She could hurt her friends.
Frosta was next to her, and she scooped the little girl up in one arm and tossed her into the air. Frosta loved it when the scorpion tossed her, and the motion just felt natural.
Scorpia grinned as she watched Frosta unleash her magic in the air, at…whoever. Scorpia's vision didn't go that far, and she didn't question it.
She reached her pincers out to catch Frosta as she came back down, but as she stepped back her foot dropped as if missing a step.
Scorpia jolted.
She was sitting in a chair and leaned back so far that she had to catch the table with the tip of her claw – the appendage embedding into the wood – to keep herself from falling. Scorpia pulled herself straight and looked back to see Perfuma, Frosta, Bow, Adora and Catra around the table with her. Perfuma had a spoon of…something, in her hand, and was holding it to Scorpia's face.
"Here," Perfuma had her usual, sweet smile. "Take a bite of this, hun."
Scorpia wrinkled her nose – she sniffed it but it smelled like nothing.
"This is always how I did it!" Frosta declared cheerfully.
Did what?
Scorpia decided not to ask – or perhaps she couldn't find the words to. She leaned in and took a bite. The substance was cold, creamy and had a sweet flavor – Scorpia was only just starting to tolerate sweetness. The cold made her shiver. She hadn't realized how cold she felt until now.
The substance also had something hard inside, but Scorpia just swallowed it down as well. Whatever it was.
Perfuma placed the spoon down and urged her to drink some water. "Wonderful. You should feel better, soon."
Feel better?
The dinner table faded, the group faded, into nothing.
She felt so hot, and cold at the same time. Was it weird to feel both? Be both?
She heat felt like electric, pulsing across her body.
Scorpia could recall one of the last times she had used that power. She feel the water against her ankles, sloshing about her calves and Horde Prime's horrifying whispers in her ear. The hive was him, all him. His whispers were like the hum of every servant, thinking his thoughts, thinking the things he wanted them to think – fueled by the memories and thoughts he'd peel from their psyche, putting it up in display like a drawing taped to a locker. Scorpia didn't want to see them like this. He never picked the good memories – the fun ones, the happy ones. He always picked the ones that made her skin want to crawl right out of her exoskeleton – the scary ones, the guilted ones. Scorpia had no idea she'd had so many until he'd pluck them out like cards from his hand until he drew the ones that'd propel her forward – or at least distract and exhaust her enough to let him drive.
She could feel the static of her electric around her ankles, the aftermath of her powers whenever she used them in water. Scorpia could only stare at her friends as they laid twitching within the shallow magic-made lake. Mermista was standing beside her, that eerie green glow in her eyes.
Scorpia wanted to cry. She hadn't /wanted/ this. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to use her powers like this.
How could they understand how /sorry/ she was, when she continued to press on? How would they ever believe her when she said she never wanted to do any of this?
She could hear Prime's voice telling her that they wouldn't. They'd never believe her, and she'd never get to tell them anyway.
The scorpion felt tilted, like the world had lurched under her feet and she was sliding. Her tail thrashed and even as she tried to right herself she could neither balance herself properly or fall. It felt like she was at a constant tilt, confused and vertigo.
Her heart pounded as fire ran through her veins.
The urge to /run/, to get away burned so hard that it felt like a fire she needed to put out. She didn't want to hear Horde Prime, she didn't want to fight her friends. She didn't want to hurt anyone, ever. She just wanted to run, to burrow somewhere so deep that his voice would never reach her.
Run! /Run!/
Scorpia hadn't realized she was already running until the ground dropped out from under her.
The scorpion found herself at a wreckage. The Fright Zone? Well, yes and no. It was Horror Hall, what was left of it.
She tried to run to it, but gosh she was so slow. Her feet pounded the ground but it was taking so long for her to get there despite it seeming so close.
If she called out to it, would Granddad hear her? Would he come for her? Would any of them come for her?
Scorpia's throat felt raw as she called out. "Grand Dad?!"
She didn't dare look back over her shoulder, or perhaps she couldn't. There was a weight on her back, on the back of her neck, like fingers curled around her spine. She could only move forward, running as fast as her legs would take her. She could feel herself weaving, stumbling, pushing against things – trees? Walls? She could feel the impact but couldn't focus on it as she kept going.
She could hear Prime's whispers. It felt like no matter how far she'd run they'd follow her, but she kept rushing nonetheless as she didn't know what else to do if not that.
"Grand Dad?! Help me!" As she finally made it to the door, Scorpia threw her shoulder into it – the pain across her shoulder jarred her and she found herself stumbling to a stop.
Her eyes blinked open and she found herself in an empty room – too small for Horror Hall. A bedroom. An empty bedroom?
This was… this was supposed to be Horror Hall.
Scorpia stared wide-eyed at her surroundings, her tail thrashing as she heaved sharp breaths. She could feel the cracked and broken door under her bare feet.
Why wasn't this Horror Hall…?! Where was she?!
Notes: I had been toying with the idea of including her perspective as its own chapter, and had been debating on where in the storyline to place it. I finally decided that here would be a good spot and it ended up taking a life of its own. It is crazy long, like 3-4x longer than any previous chapters. because it covers so much (the previous chapters) and I wanted to get it to a point after the events we've witnessed so far before this chapter ends, so it could lead into the events of the next one. It ends up being a recap of sorts, as I wasn't sure how to navigate the scenes where she had been more lucid (skipping them felt weird because they felt like skips in her memory that she wouldn't have if she was lucid, so I tried to put them more in her perspective and /hopefully/ it's not too repetitive), and I wanted to show enough of how her mental and physical state contributes to the reliability of her narrative. I hope you like it, and that the writing style wasn't too confusing!
