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

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[locked to new hires] post-babadon't

[ Adora fidgets with her communicator, staring at the screen, her brow furrowed as the video feed starts up. She's in a bed in the infirmary, with some bandaging on her head where she's was previously bleeding from the scalp. She looks tired, mostly. ]

Hey everybody. I just - I guess I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let myself get taken out like that. Everyone had to deal with that because of me. I screwed up. I won't let it happen again. Uh - I guess that's about it.

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"Yeah. I think the same way, sometimes. But... I actually figured something out, just now, talking. Something my best friend said before - before I got grabbed. It's like, I thought she was just being cruel for no reason, but she wasn't. She wasn't saying that my self isn't enough, that it's bad for me to be a hero. She was saying... kinda the opposite, actually, I think I just realized. My self is enough. I don't gotta kill myself trying. She was trying to say she doesn't want my heroic death. She wants my life, an' if it's not heroic then she's fine with that. As - as long as I'm alive to be not-a-hero with her, that's enough."

Shit. Now she's starting to cry a little.

"I think Catra an' the rest were trying to say the same thing. They don't want your heroic death. Heroic deaths make good stories, but they're still deaths. You still wouldn't be there anymore, after. How could they be happy with a victory at that price? Would you be?"

She's speaking slowly now, feeling it out as she goes.

"My pops - raised me to do great things. Be a hero. Ever since I can remember, that's all I ever wanted. Then I got to actually go do hero stuff and you know what? It fucking sucks. Nobody should have to be a hero. Not all the time. It's too damn much to ask of anyone, and that includes yourself."

"It doesn't matter how much it is or isn't," Adora replies quietly, "It's who I am. It's who I'm supposed to be. It's... it's what I have to do."

She believes that. She genuinely does. Every authority figure in her life, save one, told her it was on her. And even then, she promised Angella she'd look after Glimmer - and if saving Glimmer means dying, she'll do it.

And without realizing it, she's crying right along with her.

"I don't - I don't know, Saturday. How can I do that? How can I not give everything and then pretend that it was enough? Especially when it isn't? When I'm the only one who can do what has to be done? I - I understand. Really."

She sounds... tired, almost.

"I can't do that, though."

I'm not worth it unless I do.

"But says who? Like - heroes are supposed to do things for other people, right? But everyone we're doing this for says, stop, don't do that. It's hurting you, and it'll hurt me. So what kind of heroes are we, if we don't listen to them, just keeping going forward even if it hurts them? Who are we really doing it for, then?"

Adora is crying, so Saturday is crying more; she wants to stop but it feels good to cry about this, like something finally snapped inside her, but it wasn't breaking, it was just letting go.

"I don't think - I don't think it's about not giving all of yourself. I think it's more... like... " She reaches out, as if grasping for something, and lets her hand fall. "I think it's about accepting that the world is a fucking - i don't know, desert - full of people who need help, an' if you pour everything you have into that, sure, you're gonna help some people, but then you'll be dead, and what good can you do for all the people after that who're gonna need you? If you give all of yourself, then there's nothing left for people who've come to depend on you. And there's nothing left for you. And then you're gone, and there's nothing to show you were there except some wet sand and a good story, because people are never gonna not need help. You can't fix it, even with magic. Or someone already would have."

She takes a deep breath.

"What they're trying to say is: giving everything doesn't include your life. If you're willing to die for other people's right to live, how can you exclude yourself from that kind of thinking and still be an honest person? Who says that this is who we have to be and what we have to do? According to whom? Us? Are we really that fuckin' smart, that we can make that call? The people we love? They already chimed in. The people who raised us? Well, you were raised by an evil asshole and I was raised by a man with his own issues. If every single person says we're worth more then our deaths, an' the only people saying otherwise are us, and the people who raised us to believe that..."

Another shaking breath, hands on knees. The tears are pouring free down her face.

"You know, a big part of being a hero is admitting when you're wrong."

Edited 2021-02-02 05:47 (UTC)

"I don't think I am, though," Adora replies, voice hoarse. She hears everything Saturday says, but she can't visualize it applying to her - because of course she has to pour out everything. She has to be perfect. She can't let people be hurt. She has to keep everyone else warm. Pouring everything she is and will be into others is the only way she knows how to exist. It's the only thing that makes sense. Because she feels so incredibly alone and small when she makes a mistake. When she can't save people. When she's not able to be there.

"I'm sorry, Saturday."

Saturday can't think of anything coherent to say: just this deep welling feeling of but why? What purpose does any of it serve if the people you're doing it for don't want it? Except she's said that already, and it's not getting through. But something is niggling at her, jumping up and down for attention in the back of her mind. Something Adora said before, ages ago, back when they'd all just arrived. About her sword. About She-ra.

Saturday's eyes narrow.

"But you've been wrong before, right? About She-ra, and your destiny. Wasn't she a fake-out from the start? Just a superweapon looking for a host, something like that? You chose to throw her away rather then be controlled and used up. After believing you'd been chosen for some great purpose, or whatever. Or am I rememberin' wrong?"

"Light Hope lied to me, but Mara - Mara was She-Ra before I was and she used her power to try and change things. Being She-Ra - it wasn't necessarily bad. But... the Heart of Etheria was a weapon and Light Hope wanted me to use that weapon... but I didn't. And I'm still She-Ra."

Adora sounds a little defensive.

"Mara was supposed to used the weapon. After her, it was you, an' you chose the same thing. But you both realized you were wrong in how you thought the power of She-ra was gonna be used - or should be used - but you were both wrong, weren't you? About who She-ra was meant to be. And you both changed your minds. Decided not to be used up."

She studies Adora's face, looking for - something. She's not sure what. But there's something here.

"You are still She-ra, but because you chose to be. So - it's not that you have to. You've decided that you push come to shove, you're the one who doesn't deserve to live, because with great power comes great responsibility - to die? Why is that where your head goes, immediately, to the point where you get jumped and survive then hate yourself for not fighting to the death? You didn't do anything wrong, Adora. You just screwed up. That's not a crime. No one even died. So why did you jump to 'I should be dead'?"

Saturday thinks she knows the answer, but - that's not the point of asking.

"That's not what I said, Saturday," Adora's still crying, but she scrubs at her face. The crying... helps a little. It vents frustration and sadness but it also leaves her feeling exhausted and drained. This conversation doesn't help at all, honestly.

"I didn't say I should be dead because of this-" She waves her hand, as if to encompass the situation, "I don't even hate myself!"

Not consciously, anyway.

"The point I'm making - that I've always been making - is that I have a responsibility to do everything I can. That's it."

Saturday is already shaking her head. "Yeah, no, I don't buy that. You thought you fucked up up. Everyone said, 'no worries, we forgive you' or 'hey, happens to everyone, here's how to do better next time.' An' that's somehow literally the worst thing someone can say to you? What were we supposed to do? Like did you want us to blame you? Because that's not fuckin' rational, Adora. That thing came outta nowhere - how could you know it was active, much less what it was capable of? We're not mad because we're just glad you're alive - an' that's nowhere in your calculations, is it? Or if it is, it's cause you think we - what, don't understand the stakes? Don't realize how much danger we're in? Don't understand how it is to have everything on your shoulders? Don't realize how it feels to know someone died because you fucked up an' there's nothing you can do to bring them back? 'Cause I know you know that ain't true."

She stands now, stretching out her hands. "I mean, all I did was ask you to clear your mind and focus. An' you were so worked up you couldn't even do that. I don't know your life, that's true - though I don't like what I've heard of this Shadow Weaver - but you've seen me fight an' you know I'm for real. An' I'm tellin' you, warrior to warrior, that being fucked up over failin' makes sense. Being so fucked up you can't put it aside an' focus on the training you need to not fuck up again? That's somethin' else. It's not good practice. You do have a responsibility t'do whatever you can - an' that includes sortin' through the mess in your head. 'Cause you don't do anyone any favors takin' every failure as a personal fuckin' statement on your worth. She-ra isn't the reason you exist. You're the reason She-ra exists."

She runs a hand through her hair, shaking it out.

"This all kinda got off track, though. Look - let me clarify, this is not a fight from my perspective. We're still friends if you wanna be. If you wanna try t'learn this trick again, I'm game any day. I didn't mean to ride you on it, you're gettin' enough of that. Sorry."

"I'm not messed up over failing!" Adora practically yells, "I'm messed up over everyone reacting like I'm going over the edge! Including you!"

Adora waves her hands, as if she can somehow convey her emotion through sheer emphasis.

"Stop trying to help," she continues after a deep breath, "You're just - making it worse. Just stop. This is the exact same thing and you still - you still don't get it."

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