piper90 | [locked to new hires] post-babadon't

Adora sighs and then takes a deep breath and tries, but she's not in a really good mental spot right now. For a lot of reasons. So she sits. And waits. And waits.

Saturday gives her a long time. She doesn't budge, or say anything, until it becomes very clear that Adora isn't getting the hang of it.

"You okay?" she says. If Adora takes the blindfold off, she'll see Saturday has a rueful smile. "What's giving you trouble?"

"Everything," Adora says and then reaches up to untie the blindfold.

"...this was a bad idea. I'm going to - I just need to go."

"Hey, now." Saturday reaches out, not exactly stopping her, but offering an alternative to bolting. "It's not a bad idea. Everyone struggles with this at first, it's not a big deal. What's the problem?"

"Everything," Adora replies, sounding tired, "I don't know how to deal with anyone right now. I just... I can't. And I should be stronger. I should be better. But everyone - everyone seems to think that I'm trying to burn myself out and they're all upset."

Saturday will, if Adora allows it, rest her hands on Adora's shoulders.

"They're worried 'cause beating yourself up ain't productive. Being here and doing this - learning from the experience - that's productive. I get it - I do. People have died on my watch, people I was supposed to keep safe, an' with a lot less excuse for it then gettin' ambushed and locked in a file cabinet. Some of 'em I basically got killed by bein' a fuckwit. Still don't know how anyone ever forgave me for any of it."

She's not lying. She doesn't know, may never know. She doesn't deserve the trust people still give her. But it's given, so she holds it tight, because letting go would be a worse sin.

"They're not upset at you. They're worried about you. No one's doing anything wrong, least of all you."

"They don't understand why I do what I do," Adora replies quietly, despairingly, "They think this is... I don't know what they think this is. That this is just - me burning myself out. They just seem angry and - I don't know. I really don't."

"They didn't seem mad - kinda ungentle, some of 'em, but not mad. C'mon, let's sit down."

She guides Adora to a nearby bench.

"Nobody's mad. A lot of 'em do understand. Bunch of career heroes, this lot. That's why they're worried, and trynna tough love at you. They're the kind of people who struggle not to beat themselves up when they fail, too."

It isn't hypocrisy, Saturday tells herself. Nowhere in this speech did she exclude herself from this description.

"What they think it is, is you beatin' up on yourself because you think that's what you deserve for failing. Which ain't true, by the way. An' it scares 'em 'cause they care about you, and they were probably scared shitless when they realized the imposter stole your face, so from their perspective they're just relieved you're okay an' your acting like you did something wrong. I know my first thought woulda been that you were dead and it was my fault for not realizing sooner."

"I'm going for a walk," Adora announces. She doesn't want to hear this. Again. So she doesn't sit down.

"Thanks... again. But it's the same thing people have been telling me all day and I really don't want to hear it again."

"Then what do you want?" Saturday doesn't make any move to stop her.

"I don't know," Adora replies, expression pinched.

She thinks she does know, but she also can't let herself choose. She can't let herself be selfish, because the world - the universe - needs her and she can't give up on it. She can't chose for herself. She's never tried to be selfish. It's how she is. She gives and she gives and she gives until she's empty and then she keeps trying.

And she's also probably lowkey suicidal, but that's another story.

"Is there somethin' that'd help you think it through?"

Saturday has a sense of having stepped out on what seemed like frozen ground and finding out it was thin ice. There's something here that goes a lot deeper then the usual sturm und drang.

Although six months ago, nothing about this would have struck her as usual. She can feel some sort of way about that another time.

"Somethin' I can help with?"

Edited 2021-01-30 03:36 (UTC)

"No. I just... I have to go," Adora replies slowly, feeling less and less sure with each passing moment, "I just - I need some time."

"Go where, an' do what?" Gently, gently; Saturday speaks as kindly as she can. "Look, if this were a, a broken leg or something making you feel this bad, you'd go to medical, right? On my honor, no more lectures. Just listening. But don't run off an' just nurse it in private - that won't make it better."

She's still sitting, forearms braced against her knees, looking up at Adora. Not a threat, not a position of power. Just a worried friend.

"Probably just... out. I need to lie down and think or - something," Adora shakes her head, "I just... I don't want to be around anyone."

"Okay. You don't have to stay. I like to go out on top of the rig when I need a think, there's lots of blind spots for the cameras."

The worry is not receding. Letting Adora go would be correct; it's what she's said she wants, and she's the expert in herself. Saturday reminds herself how much trouble she's made for herself and others by assuming she knows best, and still can't shake the gnawing worry that letting Adora go off alone would be a bad idea.

"What do you want to think about?"

"Everything. Nothing. I just... I need space," she says, echoing something that Catra said to her a short while ago.

"That's all."

"All right." It's not really possible to hide the worry in her eyes, and she's not trying that hard, either. "I'll see you at dinner, then? I'm around, if you decide you wanna talk."

"What's there to talk about?" Adora sounds almost bitter. Or frustrated.

"Everyone else seems to think I don't know what's good for me."

Saturday stops a moment to consider that, before answering. She can't say, "they don't" because they do; the problem is that they don't mean it the way Adora's receiving it. Saying Adora's wrong isn't gonna help - Adora's hearing nothing but that and also, that is what people are doing - and saying that she's right isn't true. Well, it's not untrue, but it's as incomplete as the other version.

She chews on her lower lip a bit, looking inward and distracted.

"Well, from where I'm sittin', it seems more like people are seeing someone walking around with a broken leg saying she's fine, and wondering what in the hell she's saying that for. But - " a sharp nod, as she comes to conclusion. "We also don't actually know each other that well, do we? We've got a lotta facts about each other, but we don't know. So - okay. What do you know, then? Like what are we missing? What would be good for you?"

Her face is open, her voice sincere. This isn't a challenge, or meant to undermine her. She's asking, because Adora's right - no one actually has.

"But it's not like that! I'm not missing anything-" Adora pauses and allows Saturday to finish. She takes a slow breath to try and get herself to calm down a little. She's pacing back and forth now, trying to get her energy out. She finally pauses when Saturday asks that question, her brow furrowed.

"Nothing! Nothing is missing! I know what I have to do!"

Not quite true. She doesn't think of herself as needing anything because she doesn't think she really deserves anything. She needs to handle the universe. The world. She has to give as much as she can. To take anything back from the world? No. She can't do that.

"What's good for me..." She frowns, brow furrowed, "Why? What does that matter? I don't need to worry about that."

Edited 2021-02-01 05:24 (UTC)

"Well..." Saturday checks what she's saying as she says it, clearing it of any thoughtless turn of phrase that might catch them up. "You said we're acting like you don't know what's best for you, an' that you know what you need. I thought maybe some of that was more training, 'cause when I offered you accepted, but that ain't worked out so good. So I figure, I musta missed somethin', right? Which means maybe you are right, an' you know what's best for you, an' it's not anything we've offered. So if you can tell me what it is, maybe I can help you get it."

Saturday waits for the answer without trying to anticipate the response. She's learned, painfully, that that's the only way to do. At least, when you really want to reach someone, and not just con them into going along until the goal's been met.

But the first step is the immediate need. Adora doesn't feel listened to, so - Saturday will listen.

"There's nothing to tell," Adora replies, still sounding frustrated, "They think that I shouldn't be so willing to charge into danger, I guess. That I shouldn't take this responsibility on. But that's not something I can just stop doing - I have this power and should use it. I have to use it. So - why does everyone want me to stop?"

Or that's how it feels, anyway.

"They don't get it. I have to do this - I have to do all of this."

Saturday is really starting to regret not taking a closer look at the other comments on Adora's post. She frowns, bracing her forearms against her knees.

"Have to do what, exactly - what responsibilities? I logged off after I said my bit," she explains. "Didn't look to close at what everyone else was saying, just checked no one was blaming you more'n you already blamed yourself. Mostly what I saw was people sayin' not to be too hard on yourself over it; pick yourself up, dust yourself off, an' keep goin'."

She starts to shrug, frowns, then decides to hold her peace. There are other things she wants to say, about the whole not-getting-it thing - she suspects the problem might be more that they get it too well. That might not be helpful at this point, though.

"I have to... protect people. I have to make sure other people stay safe. The whole universe, if it comes down to it," Adora replies with a sigh, "And they're telling me that... I don't? That I shouldn't? And I don't understand why. I don't understand why they think it's wrong of me to want to protect other people."

It's more complicated than that. It always is. But that's how it feels to Adora.

"I can't let myself get slack. I have to keep going."

Although now they're drifting onto another topic entirely.

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