WHO: Adora & Catra WHAT: Adora gets a âgiftâ from home and tensions rise WHERE: Darla WHEN: Friday morning WARNINGS: Stupid angsty lesbians STATUS: Complete
As soon as Darlaâs doors sealed shut behind her, Adora crouched down to let his Spirit off his leash. Their morning runs always wore the little guy out for a while, and today was no exception. Instead of running off, he sat down and patiently allowed her to remove his harness. Heâd gotten a little bigger and stockier over the past two months heâd been with them, and although he was still a wild thing, he had calmed down quite a bit â and the amount of exercise Adora gave him only helped.
âGood boy,â she praised, rubbing his ears and kissing his snout despite his panting. âGo get some water, okay?â They had scattered water bowls all over the main deck that Darla kept filled to the brim for their canine son at all times. He wanted for nothing around here, and Adora wasnât quite sure how, but she was pretty sure heâd made friends with the AI, too. There were times sheâd come into their converted living room and seen him making all sorts of rumbly, happy noises at the console. Sheâd never heard the AIâs voice responding, but there was definitely some reactionary beeping and blinking lights.
It was a mystery she wasnât too determined to uncover.
Once Spirit had trotted off, Adora peeled off her sweaty tank top, then kicked off her sneakers and socks, leaving her in only shorts and a sports bra. She left her clothes on the floor to be picked up later; usually at this time, Catra was waiting on the couch for her, either playing a game or watching Netflix. It was strangely quiet, though, and as she ventured farther into the living room, she realized it was totally unoccupied. Her brows raised; it was unusual but not concerning. She decided to check out the kitchen next â Catra had been trying to teach herself to cook bit by bit â but came up empty there, too.
Very weird.
âCatra?â she called out. If she was hiding around here anywhere and Adora had missed her, she would hear her voice. No response. Maybe she had gone out? Or maybe she was still in bed. There was one easy way to find out.
âHey, Darla?â
âYes, She-Ra,â the shipâs AI replied in its typical crisp, pleasant female voice.
âIs Catra here?â
A couple of seconds passed before a map of the ship appeared across the window. âCatra is in the Captainâs Quarters,â Darla replied. The map on screen zoomed in on the upper deck and showed a little red dot dead in the middle of the spacious room theyâd taken over since moving onto the old ship.
Okay, so maybe she was still asleep. It was odd but she more than deserved to sleep in if she wanted to. Adora doubled back to pick up her clothes and shoes, then whistled quietly for Spirit, snapping her fingers until he returned to her side. âLetâs go wake up Mommy, huh? I bet she could use some puppy kisses.â
A brief elevator ride later, Spirit ran ahead of her into the bedroom and leapt up onto the bed with a happy yip, nudging Catra with his head for attention.
âHey, sweetheart. Slept in today?â Adora questioned. She paused by the door to drop her dirty clothes into the laundry hatch and her shoes on the mat, then turned her attention back to her girlfriend. âAre you feeling okay?â
Today started out like any normal day.
First was the reluctant stirring into wakefulness as Adora readied herself and Spirit for their ritualistic morning runs. Thereâd always be a sleepy murr with sleepy kisses right before they left, and Catra would take the opportunity for a few extra moments of snoozing before forcing herself up. Not like she wasnât used to a tight regimen of early rising - hello, The Horde - but now that she didnât have to it was bold for anyone to assume sheâd continue with that schedule of her own free will.
Dressing herself for the day came next (after basic hygienic practices, duh), and since they had nothing pressing to do it was loungewear she selected - leggings with stylish and purposeful rips, an off the shoulder shirt that showed off the straps of a flimsy tank top. The most time consuming part was her hair. Catra had a lot of it, and had been toying with the idea of a haircut in the near future. Nothing that could be compared to the style Prime had stuck her with back home (it really wasnât a bad cut but it had been given to her by Horde Prime so fuck no), though some inches could be cut off. Lately Adora had been helping her braid it but since she struggled to do that on her own during some parts, she opted for a low ponytail.
Adora could help her with it later. Maybe after a shower, if her girlfriend played her cards right - she always came back stinking like high hell with sweat anyway, and at times Catra was benevolent enough to jump in with her and scrub her back. Or - something. Ahem.
Overall, normal. Except for one thing.
Being the last one out of bed meant that making the bed was her chore. It was a dumb chore, and entirely unnecessary when they were going to be slipping back into it at night (not to mention other activities their bed involved), except part of being in a relationship and having this domestic arrangement involved compromise and Adora was anal retentive about certain things. So making the bed it was, and Catra had stopped grumbling about it awhile ago because now it was simply routine.
In flattening out the sheets and spreading out the blankets, there was a lump her hands felt in dressing the bed. Somewhat rectangular-shaped, a bit thick, and she had to wonder if one of them had fallen asleep with their Nintendo Switch. Turns out it wasnât anything electronic - quite the opposite, in fact. The journal she uncovered wasnât anything familiar to her, and it was worn with several pages and notes written in it with a handwriting that she did know.
It was Adoraâs. When did she -? When her thumb flipped through the pages in what was a confused, actually innocent gesture, she must have accidentally dislodged something taped to one of the pages because from it fell some stationary. A letter colored lavender, lightly scented of Bright Moon (her nose could tell), and the first line in old ink read Dear Catra.
Catra couldnât stop herself. She read it. She read every letter, every line, from you are my enemy now, and always will be right down to I wouldnât do things any other way. And before she could stop herself, before she could let those words sink in and rationalize that this was an old letter, she kept going - went to the rest of the pages, to the notes and scribbles and observations. All of it. The but when I became She-Ra she couldnât accept me for who I was and the that was her choice.
Her senses didnât register that Adora had come home before it was too late, and her brain hadnât realized that her own cheeks were - wet? Catra had been crying, quietly, maybe even angrily. It was a flurry of activity after that, because she had to push Spirit away from her and shove the journal underneath the pillow (which made it so very obvious she was hiding something).
âYeah, I just -â Catra swiped at her face, eyes splotchy and heart racing and blood pumping. Her ears were low and her tail was absolutely lashing. Spirit knew enough of those signs to whine and step away. âGot distracted. Iâm gonna go start breakfast, thereâs sausage that needs to be cooked before it goes bad.â
Adora knew something was wrong even before that not-at-all subtle attempt to hide something. Unless Spirit was being overly rambunctious, they rarely pushed him off or got stern with him. She couldnât remember a time heâd ever cowered away from Catra like that, but she was clearly upset; the signs were all there, and Spirit probably felt it on a more primal level Adora couldnât quite touch.
âSpirit, come lay in your bed,â she cooed, approaching the bed to rub the dogâs head and usher him back onto the floor. He had a little dog bed tucked into the corner that he slept in most nights, and he trotted over to it obediently. With him out of the line of fire, Adora turned back to her girlfriend, concern painted across her face.
The lowered ears and the whip-fast tail overruled her claim that she just got distracted. She was sure that was true, probably by whatever it was she had hurriedly shoved under the pillow, but that distraction had very obviously upset her, too. She knew she still didnât smell particularly pleasant, but she abandoned her hygiene needs and got in front of Catra before she could get up and leave.
âHey, what is it? Whatâs going on?â She sat down beside her and tilted her head, searching her eyes. âYouâve been crying?â That got her â Catra crying always broke her heart, especially because it was so rare these days. Shadow Weaver had beaten the tears out of her, for the most part, a very long time ago.
Nope, Catra wasnât about to entertain this. Her attempts to push this down until it was six feet under in the depths of her fucked up mind werenât going to be successful - she was aware of her own distress, thanks, but didnât want to address it with her right now. It was too raw, too fresh, and her thoughts were nasty and spiraling downward into self-destruction.
Which was something she was also aware of, and she wanted to distance herself from it before an explosion became inevitable. Like, she also literally invaded Adoraâs privacy by reading that journal (where the hell did it even come from) and was definitely not proud of it? It was a mess, she was a mess. Not that the fact was anything new and it was an honest-to-god miracle Adora kept her around despite that.
âDonât wanna talk about it,â was what she groused under her breath before shooting up off the mattress. Catra smoothed back those stray hairs that made it out of her ponytail, dried her eyes and was fine. Really. She was also making her way towards the door, already deciding to take the emergency stairwell down to the deck where the kitchen was because she couldnât fathom being in an elevator right now if Adora followed her. âGo change, okay? Iâll be downstairs.â
âCatra, wait a minute,â Adora protested, jumping right back up to follow after her girlfriend. She managed to catch her just as the doors automatically opened in front of them, wrapping a hand around her elbow. She knew this move was Catraâs attempt to bury what she was feeling instead of confronting it, probably because those feelings were directed toward Adora. It was probably in her best interest to just let her go and give her a minute, but learning to leave well enough alone was still a work-in-progress for her. Whatever this was, she would rather clear the air now.
âPlease, just tell me what happened,â she requested softly, stroking down her forearm. She knew she should probably just let her go, that none of this was going to help her case, but she couldnât let go that easily. Whatever it was Catra was hiding, she couldnât stand not knowing. âDonât let this stew, okay, whatever it is. Tell me what has you so upset. What did youâŠput under the pillow?â
In most situations Adoraâs touch would be like a soothing balm to whatever ailed her but, today - it just wasnât it, it didnât work. Catraâs tail bristled, fur standing on end and her claws instinctively unsheathed with a zing. They were involuntary reactions chalked up to her species that she wasnât proud of. The claws, in particular, stirred up guilt often from what theyâd done to her.
Back when she ran The Horde she tried to keep those reactions controlled; they gave too much of her away, showed a weakness that was unbecoming. With Adora that kind of repression wasnât necessary but during moments like these, where everything was delicate and volatile and all she wanted to do was run? She wished she could control them better.
Catra whipped her arm away and began massaging her palms to ease her claws back to a less threatening stance. This wasnât Adoraâs fault. It was hers, it always was. âI didnât know what it was when I picked it up,â she admitted. Shame burned in her eyes. âI knew it was yours but Iâve never - I didnât recognize it? Then a letter fell out and I couldnât stop. Iâm sorry. I shouldnât have and that was - that was shitty of me.â
A letter? Adora frowned, trying to determine just what Catra was talking about. She didnât really know how to react to Catraâs apologies for reading something that was hers, apparently? Seemed like the simplest way to piece this all together was to find out what it was herself. Once she was shaken off, she stepped back up to the head of the bed, reached under the pillow, and her heart stopped when she felt what her hand wrapped around.
The purple journal Glimmer had gifted her at the start of her stay in Castle Bright Moon was a bit disheveled when she pulled it out but not much more so than usual. She had crammed papers in there that didnât quite fit, so it was always not quite right. She hadnât seen it in ages, hadnât written in it in well over a year â since the portal.
Now she knew what letter Catra was talking about. And there were other things in there, comments about her that she had written in anger and, honestly, in a last-ditch attempt to make herself give up hoping for her, but it hadnât worked. And of course now it came back to bite her.
She turned back toward her girlfriend, shamefaced, fingers digging into the leather journal covers. âThis was a long time ago,â she said, holding it up before tossing it back onto the bed. âI was hurt and angry and - and there was so much going on, so much I was processing. Everythingâs changed since then. You know that.â
âIâm not mad at you!â Catra blurted out hastily - Adora needed to know that. âIâve done worse when I was mad at you, so much worse than some angry notes in some pastel-colored journal.â This conversation wasnât doing any wonders for claw retraction, nor did it do anything to ease the tension bunched up in her shoulders (it was why they were raised up a little high).
So she breathed, because thatâs the dumbass tactic they used in those little yoga classes she attended to work on this anger of hers. The very same anger that bubbled up to a boil, threatening to burst through the surface and spill out âtil everything around her was scorched. It was true when she said she wasnât angry at Adora - her girlfriend wasnât the target of her rage. She was.
But even at her most exemplary bouts of self-destruction, there were moments that Adora had been damaged in the process too. That was what Catra wanted to avoid.
âI shouldn't have read it in the first place, okay?â she scowled. âLeave it at that and just - drop it. Let me make breakfast. I donât want to talk about it anymore.â
Adora was tempted to argue otherwise because Catra was very clearly angry. She sounded angry and all those signs that she was in a bad mood were still very visible. And it had to be at her, right? She was the one who had written those shitty things in dark moments, and now Catra had seen them and she was pissed off. She couldnât understand why she was claiming not to be mad.
Pushing wouldnât be the smart way to do this, though. The emotional side of her wanted to until they could get through all of this bravado and hurt feelings and put it to rest. It wasnât like she hadnât seen Catra in some volatile moments, and she could absolutely handle it. But she knew the guilt that would follow if she forced an outburst when everyone had calmed down. She stood by her general âdonât stew in itâ sentiment, and she didnât like the idea of her getting into her own head and driving herself crazy. She just didnât really know what else to do right now.
Except, wellâ
âFine,â she agreed after a moment, her tone calm in a very practiced, intentional way. âBut - look, Iâm sorry. Iâm really sorry. I wonât say I didnât mean any of it because at the time, I was really hurting and I felt like I meant it. But now, I mean this - I love you, Catra. Iâm so far past all that, weâre past that. I donât care if you read the whole thing cover to cover, youâre allowed. I would have shown it to you myself if I had known it was here.â
âStop - stop stop stop,â Catra hissed, eyes screwing shut briefly because all the apologizing wasnât helping. Adora didnât need to say sorry. She didnât do anything wrong in this scenario. âDonât you get it? Iâm mad at me.â
They were supposed to drop it. She was supposed to mosey downstairs and let off some steam by slamming cabinets and cursing at a sizzling frying pan so she could - ugh, figure herself out. Things inside her were still rotten; reading Adoraâs thoughts and feelings in tangible form on paper had been a harsh reminder of what sheâd done and of what she didnât deserve. Which was - this. Her. All of it. âItâs fine if you meant everything you wrote because I meant to hurt you every time I did.â The words were forced out, choked and mad and so sad. âI loved you the entire time and still did what I did and. Iâm the one thatâs sorry. Iâm always going to be sorry, Adora. And itâs - fine, I just need space to get my head straight again without you trying to fix everything.â
The last thing she wanted was for Adora to blame herself for her goddamn feelings the entire time. They were hurt, yeah - but that wasnât her problem. It was Catraâs to sort out and deal with instead of unleashing it on her unfairly.
Stepping back and giving space and trying not to fix everything were all things Adora seriously struggled with. She fixed things; it was part of who she was at this point, ingrained in her from such a young age that she didnât know how to not. She was working on those things, and here it was less necessary, thankfully. They had plenty of issues they were still chipping away at slowly and she was okay with that.
This, however, was right in front of them, slightly more pressing, and leading to things Adora didnât like. She hated knowing that Catra was beating herself up for this all over again when they had worked so hard to let the past be the past. And it had only been dredged up because of this damn journal she hadnât thought about in ages and hadnât written in for even longer.
She acquiesced, though, running a hand across her face and nodding. âOkay. Iâll give you space.â She forced a smile and met mismatched eyes across the room. She wanted to go over to her and hug her, but she refrained. Sheâd already been pushed away once and didnât really want to be pushed away again. âJust - you donât have to be sorry either. I donât feel that way anymore, so - itâs fine.â
That, right there, was what allowed her body to release the tension necessary for her claws to retract; Adora taking that metaphorical step back, granting that space she needed. Most of the time verbal reassurances were enough to pacify her. This had been a lot. Sudden, like a swift punch to the fucking gut with zero time in between to recover from the blow.
Thing is, Catra and Adora have already crashed and burned before. Theyâve hit their lowest point. If they could come back from that, they could come back from anything - including this.
âIâll work on keeping that in mind,â she promised, releasing a sigh sheâd been bottling up the entire confrontation. Her feet began taking those slow steps backwards, out of their bedroom and towards the elevator. âI love you, and Iâm just - going to the kitchen. After I make breakfast Iâm getting some air.â Tear up some trees, maybe even climb atop of Darla for a catnap in the sun so she could sleep off this sudden onset of depression that was sucking the air from her lungs.
Then sheâd come crawling back to Adora, pushing herself back onto her lap where she belonged. Catra always did. She just needed some time today to get there.
Adora crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. She knew this really hadnât been that bad. There had been a couple of heated moments, but overall, theyâd had a civil conversation and she completely got why Catra was hurt. But she still felt awful; her heart was in her throat and her stomach was in knots. She didnât like that she couldnât explain herself, that Catra was refusing to discuss all of this with her. She was afraid that it would just keep lingering in the back of her mind and creating resentment, but she couldnât change that. Sheâd already agreed to give her space and leave it alone.
âHey, um. Donât worry about breakfast for me.â She reached back to adjust her ponytail and walked up to the mat sheâd left her shoes on. âI actually already had a breakfast sandwich with Richie. I think Iâm just going to go up to the Training Grounds.â She knew herself. She knew it would be difficult as hell to give Catra space if she stayed here. She needed to go somewhere where she could keep her mind occupied, and training was the perfect way to do that.
âSpiritâs kind of worn out, though.â She carried her shoes over to the dresser, grabbed a fresh pair of socks, and sat down on the bed to put them on. She eyed their canine son in his dog bed, drifting off to sleep with his tongue lolling out. Once he really fell asleep, she knew his usual little snores would follow. âCan you keep an eye on him? Iâll come back around lunchtime to take him for his walk.â
Of course, in trying to spare Adoraâs feelings she was still hurting them anyway. There were no winners in this, and the kindest route Catra thought they could both take kept them stuck in this quicksand of fucking sad.
Her feet stopped moving, and she froze in place as she watched Adora grab her things to leave again. If she wasnât up for breakfast then cooking was pointless for Catra - the pit of her stomach felt like it was endlessly sinking, killing her appetite. The food wouldnât be for her. That was fine, obviously she would figure what else to do, but.
Catra surged forward. One second she was about to exit their bedroom, the next she stood in front of her and cradled that perfect face (even scarred from turkey talons, she was still beautiful) between her hands. The kiss she pressed to her forehead was a gentle one, and she let her lips stay right there for a few seconds.
âIâll see you later then,â she whispered softly.
Adora hadnât even gotten to her feet again before Catra was in front of her, hands on her, and her entire body just relaxed. Her eyes closed and her hands slipped around her back, automatically pulling them a little closer together. For a split second, she considered changing her mind, staying here and keeping herself in Catraâs space, but no. Sheâd agreed. They could handle a day of not being around each other constantly, right?
âLater. Promise,â she murmured, tilting her head to press a kiss to her girlfriendâs nose. She pulled her hands away and leaned back a bit, a quick smile curling her lips and a knowing eyebrow rising. âEat something while Iâm gone. Please.â She knew how Catra could be when she was upset, but food was necessary. âEven just a snack. Iâll bring back burgers.â
There was a rapid succession of nods at that - snacking was a realistic goal, her stomach would revolt at being empty eventually. âI will,â she replied tensely, trying to mirror her smile but it was very brief too - and guilty. So guilty.
But despite that she still found herself needing that space anyway.
Catra stepped back to allow her to get up without too much physical contact. She ached for more touch - a hug, anything - but until she sorted out her own internal mess of feelings she felt undeserving of it. âBe careful.â