Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Velma couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. 

She had gotten what she needed, the disc piece had to be her priority, and she knew it was far safer in her capable hands than it could ever be in Mr. E’s, but she still couldn’t shake that dirty feeling. She and the gang had wrecked a whole town, and poor ugly Jimmy had gotten beaten beyond repair. Her decision to chase after the Black Lilith had destroyed a small town and something of a historical monument. While sure, the ship wasn’t officially protected by the government at all, it was full of so much history, and now it sat at the base of the mountain, little more than a pile of splinters.

It would make sense, for Velma to feel guilty about all the property damage, but Mystery Incorporated has never been known for leaving a scene in good condition.

She felt a little bad about the boat, and the town, but none of that compared to the guilt she felt about Marcie.

Part of her wished she could go back to a time where they were nothing more than scientific rivals—a time where their only interactions were subtle digs at each other's sloppy records, or sample sizes that were far too small to stake such a claim on—but over the summer things changed between them. Velma tried not to get too attached, they were just partners. Their relationship was purely business, and that’s how it should stay.

But Velma’s friends were all gone, and Marcie was actually pretty great once they got to know each other. 

She was witty, and clever, and she just understood . 

All the things Velma had to keep to herself around the gang, the birth of a new theory, the daydreams of new projects, all the academic thoughts she just let bounce around in her head, Marcie was a captive audience to. 

And Marcie had thoughts of her own, brilliant, beautiful thoughts. Velma had never found herself so focused on the sound of someone else’s voice, wanting to absorb everything she was saying, to memorize the patterns of her speech. 

And when the conversation drifted from scientific theory to more personal matters, Velma still found herself captivated by Marcie.

Trying to replace Daphne with her new friend was far from Velma’s brightest idea, but she didn’t want to abandon her new… partner.

Kicking Marcie out had left her feeling like she had been stabbed through the heart.

Marcie telling her she was her only friend was like twisting the knife.

They had some kind of connection, something beautiful, and wonderful, and new. Spending time together—just the two of them—left Velma feeling like she belonged with Marcie somehow. As if maybe they could have something great. A strong business partnership, maybe. 

Watching Marcie fade into the horizon, empty-handed after all her hard work, resigning freely all for Velma’s sake…

Velma watched her silhouette fade out of view and looked down at the piece of the disc. 

She had gotten what she came for, but she couldn’t help but feel as if she lost something far more important.

Chapter Text

It’s not a good feeling, knowing someone would die for you. It had always seemed so loving, so poetic, that someone could look at you and find something worth dying for, that you were something worth protecting.

The romanticism of it doesn’t make sense anymore.

Velma had discovered at least one positive aspect of this new dimension. Walking along this bridge that seemed to go on forever, in a realm completely silent save the sound of their own footsteps, She had ample time to process recent events.

The subtle ache in her calves was nothing compared to the headache? Heartache? Velma wasn’t quite sure how to describe the feeling, really. All she knew was that it hurt. Part of her didn’t want to accept it, wanted to believe maybe Pericles wasn’t quite that cruel, maybe it could have been warning shots they heard.

But Velma had always been a smart girl.

The distant gunfire, scooby’s whimpering behind her, it didn’t seem real. How could it be? Approaching it from an outside perspective, it seemed absurd.

A deranged german parrot had his armed robots shoot a girl who smelled like hot dog water. What sane person would believe that story?

At least she hadn’t heard the screams.

Marcie was strong, so impossibly strong, but the same couldn’t be said for her friend. Velma couldn’t even tell her she loved her, couldn’t even bring herself to look back, couldn’t even save her friend from a fucking parrot, and she was supposed to save the world. But if she had heard Marcie scream, heard her cry out as the Kriegstaffebots shot her again and again and again? Velma wouldn’t have been able to take it. She wasn’t strong enough, she didn’t know if she ever could be, and she had to save the world.

It was hard enough to know Marcie would die for her, hard enough to know she would never be able to tell Marcie she was sorry, she should have been a better friend, should have loved her better, should never have been such an ass at all those science fairs, should have saved her, should never have let Pericles lay a fucking feather on her, should have done something. Marcie had died for her, and she couldn’t even bring herself to look back.

Velma wasn’t about to let her sacrifice be in vain.