And Now, A Rewritten Section of Scrap’s Solo Chapter 2

Been wanting to write this version of one particular scene ever since reading @calcium-cat’s One Small Dream. I guess consider this a perspective swap as well as an attempt of actually putting the song of choice in? ‍♀️

Anyway, if you want to compare and contrast, here’s the original chapter all ready to go. I have no idea if this rewrite is consistent with the rest of the work (since I just worked with this one section), so sorry if either of them are OOC to my own fic.

With all that out of the way, enjoy!

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“Would you please say the line to start?” Baby asked innocently. “That way I can get the music ready.”

Scrap-Trap sighed. He really was going to play this role, wasn’t he? “Fine, but only because you asked nicely” he answered, watching the other robot skate to a radio on another table nearby. His head ducked behind the curtain. Suddenly, the curtain pulled back just enough for Baby to see him. He took a deep breath, got himself into a proper Sally-like position, then bobbed his head as a mental cue. “Farewell, Liz,” he began somberly. “My dearest Elizabeth…” His voice trailed as he watched Baby’s eyes glowed brighter than usual. A lump in what remained of his throat started to form. Nevertheless, he pressed on. “Oh, how I hope my premonition is wrong.” he concluded, shaking his head both in and out of character.

Baby jolted out of her shock. She hurriedly turned on the device and pressed the play button. Her eyes shifted from the radio to her performer, who now exaggerated his shambling gait. Once he was in proper position (or what he thought was said position), he began to sing for her. “I sense there’s something in the wind,” she could hear him rasp as he mimicked the song’s choreography, “that feels like tragedy’s at hand.” Baby’s eyes widened at the change in his voice. It was only a little higher than usual, but this… frailness really took her aback. Not as much as hearing the name ‘Elizabeth’ uttered with such conviction,of course, but it still impacted her. He never sounded so sad before. At least, not when she was around.

Meanwhile, Scraptrap continued his re-enactment of the scene. He limped towards the center of the stage, stopping short of the imaginary gate that stood between him and his daughter. “And though I’d like to stand by her,” he sang, making sure he glanced at Baby when that last word left his mouth, “can’t shake this feeling that I have.”Allthe malice and bitterness he typically harbored faded away as his eyes drifted from her to the floor. In its place was left was what he felt yesterday. Fear, regret, doubts about himself ever being regarded as a father by Elizabeth again…

“The worst is just around the bend,” his voice faltered out, struggling to keep his real emotions in for at least one more line. His gaze shifted from the floor to the ceiling. In this strange state, he could almost see the starless night sky where a coffin-like sleigh should be flying across. “And does she notice my feelings for her?” he strained out, his one arm trembling as he traded the original pulling on the bars of the gate with reaching out to that unseen thing in the imaginary void. “And will she see how much she means to me?” His arm lowered along with his head. His eyes rested on Baby, who still watched him with the same curiosity and wonder she had many years ago. This caused him to wince before repositioning himself. “I think it’s not to be,” he followed up swiftly, a hint of somberness in his tone. 

Now that his emotions were a little more… stable, his voice took on the serious yet imperfect tone that it was supposed to have. “What will become of my dear friend?” he picked up as he walked alongside the still-invisible ‘bars’. “Where will our actions lead us then?” He then mimed unlocking the gate. “Although I’d like to join the crowd in their enthusiastic cloud,” he sang as he swung open the ‘door’. His arm signaled both the opening of the gate and a gesture to the would-be audience. A flood of memories hit him in that moment. Performing as Spring-Bonnie many years ago, doing roughly the same pose for an entirely different scene. Singing to Elizabeth as a storm rumbled and roared outside his newer house. These, among many others, caused his voice to crack under the weight of lost time. “Try as I may it doesn’t last,” he croaked as he sat down on the edge of the stage.

It was at this point that he posed in a similar manner to his initial performance. This time, however, there was no doll to hold tight.“And will we ever end up together?” almost made him forego being in-character.It was all he could do to not look at Baby directly and break down in front of her. “No, I think not,” he sputtered out, gripping his broken arm. “It’s neverto become…”

Time seemed to slow during that one pause. The metallic rabbit hung his head. This was it. His main reason for feeling so vulnerable about to be exposed. The recorded orchestra winded down, as if to punctuate how important this moment was for him. He braced himself for impact, then sang the song’s conclusion: “For I am not the one.”Thankfully for him, his voice remained firm enough. A soft click from the radio served as the way for Scrap-Trap to completely return to reality. He lifted his head and stared right at Baby. “I told you my singing wasn’t very good,” he scoffed.

“But your acting was genuine,” Baby added. “Too genuine.” She lightly pushed herself her from the table and slowly glided to Trap’s side. “Daddy,” she said with her glowing pupils focused on him, “do you feel that way about me? That I don’t think you’re ‘the one’, whatever that means to you?”