WHAT: Catra owes Scorpia the biggest apology and the two take steps towards an actual friendship WHERE: Morningside Apartments WHEN: This past weekend, I think WARNINGS: It's soft your honor, there's even a HUG STATUS: Complete
It was the best she could think of. Apparently it was common practice to bring one anyway as a housewarming gift. Aside from wine and fancy cooking spices, she supposed. Plus, like. Perfuma. She didn’t know much about the extent of their friendship (or relationship, from the looks of it) but she figured Scorpia missed her something fierce and thought that this might help a little.
Or - maybe it would make it worse? Crap. Had she chosen something totally insensitive? It was too late to return it considering she had come to that possible epiphany the moment she knocked on Scorpia’s door, trying her best to conceal her wrecked nerves with a veil of aloofness. Catra was a bit fidgety. Twitchy ears, restless tail, all while trying to also snuff out this flame of hope that she could fix this. Scorpia texting her came as a surprise, and her agreeing to meet her one-on-one was an even bigger one.
But she also had low expectations. A defense mechanism from having been disappointed most of her life is probably what it was. Scorpia didn’t owe her a damn thing - especially forgiveness, and Catra wasn’t here for that.
She was here to apologize. She owed her one. A big one.
So here stood Catra, vulnerable and awkward and dressed in a cropped leather jacket reminiscent of their Crimson Waste ventures - before it had gone to total shit.
Plants did help. Scorpia didn’t have too many yet - she didn’t actually have an actual job yet, and needed to save money for things like food and supplies - but she hadn’t been able to resist buying a few houseplants which sat on her windowsills.
Scorpia herself was a bit of a nervous wreck, looking around her apartment to make sure that it was clean and presentable, not because she thought Catra would mind any kind of mess but because it gave her something to do that wasn’t thinking about why Catra was coming, or what she’d say, or what Scorpia had been preparing to say all day. Texting Catra, when she could read over everything before she sent it and make sure she wasn’t about to say anything stupid, or embarassing, or anything else had been so much easier.
Emily gave a startled beep at the knock on the door - apparently she was as nervous as Scorpia herself was - and she scurried into her room, closing the door behind her. Scorpia had tried to explain to her that Catra wasn’t going to turn her into scrap metal anymore, but she didn’t think Emily had believed her, and Scorpia thought that she maybe couldn’t blame her. She hadn’t always been the best judge of Catra in the past.
She opened the door, pincer to the biometric scanner that Brigitte had installed for her (take that, doorknobs). “Catra! Hi! Come in!” She stepped aside so Catra could do exactly that. “Can I get you anything to drink? Tea or juice or something?”
“Hi,” Catra exhaled in reply, blinking widely and apprehensively. If only that pep she’d been greeted with could soothe the twisting anxiety in her gut but it only made it worse because damnit, Scorpia shouldn’t be playing nice. Being at the receiving end of that, uh, small display of hospitality made her seem like a fraud undeserving of it and why couldn’t she be the mean one for once instead?
It was Scorpia though. Not a mean bone existed despite her hulking size and intimidating bulge of muscle that could crack her in half.
A hesitant step was taken inside, and she only entered enough to where the door could be safely shut behind them. “I’m fine though, I don’t need anything. This, um. This is for you?” she offered, holding the plant up sheepishly. “The flower pot’s tough. It shouldn’t break even if you accidentally squeeze it too tight.” That had been something she specifically looked to get - everything in the Fright Zone was sturdy and usually made of something metallic. Vallo was a lot more domestic, therefore a lot more fragile but there were options. The race diversity mirrored Etheria’s. Probably even surpassed it, if she were being honest. “It’s an indoor plant and doesn’t need too much attention so it won’t like… die easily, or anything.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Scorpia said, uncertainly, as she took the potted plant. Catra said it was tough, but she still took it gingerly between both pincers. She hadn’t expected any sort of gift, especially not one that was so cute (look at his little smile! He’d fit perfectly on the windowsill, with his little swinging legs), and she cradled it to her breast, trying to think if Catra had ever given her anything before. Other than the matching vests they’d had in the Crimson Wastes, at least.
She’d expected there to be more small-talk before they got to this point, but Scorpia was pretty sure if she let this go any further it would just be harder to say what needed to say, so it was better to just get this over with now. “You don’t have to be nice to me, Catra,” she said, all in a rush, hugging the little potted plant a little closer, and now that that was out of the way, it was a little easier. “I mean, I know we’re both from Ethernia so maybe you feel like you have to be? But you don’t, really. I know… I mean, you’ve got a whole life here, and I don’t want to get in the way of that or anything. I can do my own thing. Really.”
Catra hadn’t gone too far from the door. It was probably wise. The pockets of her jacket were higher up than the usual style but she managed to stick her fists into them anyway. Better than crossing her arms in a way that made her look like she was hugging herself - that usually made her feel small, look small and she didn’t want to give that visual.
She let Scorpia ramble a bit, letting the words rush out of her in a way that filled Catra with shame because of course she felt that the politeness was out of obligation. As if she’d ever let her think before that she was capable of anything genuine when all she did was scowl and manipulate and threaten. A few moments of vulnerability were shared between them, here and there - but she didn’t let it happen often, and there was a part of her resistant about letting it happen now.
Perfuma had been the one to encourage her to be more open, though. Open and vulnerable and honest about her feelings, which were things at that point in time she’d never done before.
So, she’d try. Catra had been trying for the past year with people she’d met in Vallo, and it was time to put that to practice with someone she should have tried harder with in the first place. “I’m being nice because I want to be,” she replied carefully, eyes narrowed not in anger but - contemplation, in a way? “I got the plant because I wanted to. I thought it might help with… I don’t know, Flower Power not being here?” Wait, she should probably use her actual name. “Sorry, Perfuma.”
Nervously, before continuing, she scratched at her ankle with her exposed toes.
“Look, I just -” A deep breath as she squared her shoulders. She could do this and make direct eye contact and everything. “I want to have a conversation with you, and if you decide to not want to have anything to do with me afterwards - that’s fine. I mean, it’d suck because I’d like you to be part of this life too but I’ll respect that because I’ve…” Been the biggest asshole to you? “You were right, with what you said. I was a bad friend, Scorpia.”
Scorpia was better at not crying when people showed her unexpected kindness. In fact, she’d managed to avoid doing it altogether after that first day being taken prisoner by the Princess Alliance, with Frosta and her little ice pincers and Perfuma with her terrible salad, and she almost managed to keep it together now, right up until Catra said that she wanted Scorpia to be part of her life here and that she’d been a bad friend.
She’d nearly convinced herself that she would have been totally fine not being Catra’s friend at all, and that obviously Catra wouldn’t want anything to do with her with her new life, and that really, she didn’t want Catra to want anything to do with her, because Catra had not been very nice to her at all, but she obviously hadn’t done a very good job at the whole convincing thing, because this was the happiest she’d been since she got to Vallo.
She wiped at her eyes with her pincer while hugging the plant closer to her with the other arm, managing to resist the impulse to just scoop Catra up in her arms and hug the life out of her: she knew how much Catra hated that. “Yeah. Yeah, we can talk,” Scorpia said. “We should sit down, maybe?” She turned toward the living room, glad for the excuse to turn her back to Catra so she could scrub at her eyes a little harder, and if her eyes weren’t dry by the time she sat down on the large sectional, at least they were no longer actively welling up.
Oh. Oh. Scorpia was tearing up. Wait - fuck. Had Catra made her cry already? Did she say the wrong thing somehow? There were several seconds of that internal oh fuck oh fuck panic that may have seeped into her face because making her cry was obviously not what she intended to do and when she opened her mouth to say something, like an apology for having been the catalyst to turn on the waterworks, she realized something.
This wasn’t a bad cry.
Catra wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“Sure,” she said after a minute, and followed her lead to the couch and the spot she occupied was at the end - right at the edge, too cautious to really make herself comfortable. Despite the openness to be heard out this wasn’t the time to get cozy. Her hands slipped out of the pockets and were restless, and one went to scratch the back of her neck, right against the scarred spot when she came to another realization. “I didn’t even think to ask because it’s been awhile since Adora and I have seen the end of Prime but - how are you doing? After the whole being chipped thing?”
It had occurred to her just now that the experience must still be fresh for Scorpia. Not so much for Catra now since it’d been months since she had been given that unfortunate memory dump update but for Scorpia - different story.
“Oh,” Scorpia said. She hadn’t been expecting that particular question, and it felt a little like Kyle had wound up and had punched her in the stomach with all his strength; it wasn’t enough to knock the wind out of her, it wasn’t even enough to really hurt, but it still made her insides tense up. She glanced away, unconsciously mirroring Catra, one of her pincers going to the back of her neck to graze over the slightly raised scar. “Oh, it’s -” fine, she’d meant to say, but couldn’t quite.
She rested the planter on her knee. “I dream about it sometimes,” she said. “And … I don’t know. I guess part of me knows that it wasn’t my fault, and I got chipped trying to protect Perfuma and Sea Hawk and Double Trouble, and I wouldn’t change that. But I spent so long fighting against the Rebellion and then right when they’d accepted me…” Right when she felt like she’d finally belonged somewhere for the first time. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to put her feelings into words. “It feels like I betrayed them, maybe? And then before I could really apologize I ended up here... Not that there’s anything wrong with here or anything. Here is great. It’s just...”
It just wasn’t where all of her friends were.
Double Trouble. Talk about a name she didn’t expect to be thrown in there, what the hell. Another question for a different day. Catra got where she was coming from though - dreaming about it still, the weird feed of information one would get being connected to a network of clones. The flashes of violence against someone you didn’t want to hurt.
The guilt, which still hadn’t left after all this time. It wasn’t as strong as it once had been, but - there was an echo remained, dull and persisting. Sometimes it came to a roar when she saw the scars Adora had gotten from that fight.
“They won’t hold it against you,” she said after a moment, dropping her hand to busy herself with the ring around one of her fingers. Twisting, pulling it. “You know they’re like - weirdly forgiving, even when they probably shouldn’t be. I’m not saying that you don’t deserve to be forgiven for anything, it’s…” Word vomit. Catra’s cheeks filled up with air, and then she let it go. “What happened wasn’t your fault is what I’m trying to say. Accepting that’s not always easy, so. I get it.”
Scorpia hadn’t noticed the ring before Catra had started playing with it. She hadn’t thought Catra was really the type for jewelry, but then, she didn’t know Catra as well as she thought she did. It was a nice ring though, and Scorpia nearly complimented her on it before what Catra was actually saying sunk in.
“Did he get you too?” Scorpia asked, and then grimaced. She probably should have found a more delicate way to ask that.
Catra blinked. Then sat there, thinking because - right. Scorpia didn’t know. The ones who had escaped the whole chipping process knew what had happened and at that rate it almost felt like everyone had known (not a fact she was happy about but what could she do), and here was the reminder that it wasn’t the case.
It wasn’t her favorite subject for obvious reasons. Definitely wasn’t the easiest thing to casually bring up in a conversation, either. The experience was common ground for both of them, so maybe she could… try? Consider it part of this catching up conversation she had wanted to initiate.
“I was on his ship,” she shrugged. “With Glimmer. We were together when he made his grand debut.” Catra assumed no one tried looking for her otherwise. Maybe the Rebellion thought she’d gotten killed (something she had even asked Glimmer to do), or was biding her time in the shadows like some viper waiting to strike. “Adora being Adora was going to find a way to get her friend off that ship and was on the way. Prime found out about it, and… was waiting for her. It was a trap. To keep her away I got Glimmer off the ship and to her so she could turn around - you know, leave. Go back to Etheria. Prime got a little peeved about that. He chipped me, gave me a haircut, the whole little sister title like the twisted shit he was and used me as bait for Adora.”
Her explanation was fairly condensed but some details weren’t necessary, she figured. Scorpia didn’t need the description of what all the indoctrination process entailed (details she even skimped with Adora when she asked), and it wasn’t really relevant for her to know that Prime had killed her by having her puppeted body vault off that platform. Vaguely, she recalled the sickening crack of several (important) bones breaking when she hit the ground after he tried to fry her brain. Good times.
“Adora came for me anyway, we fought and - it was bad,” Catra alluded, her ears flattening against her skull. “But she managed to tap into She-Ra and save me. Entrapta removed the chip.”
That explained a lot. Like the haircut, which had looked good but that Scorpia couldn’t really understand (maybe Catra had needed a change, but getting a haircut during all of that seemed a little strange), and how Catra had come to join the princesses in the first place, and how Adora had become She-Ra again and … well, there’d been a lot of things that Scorpia hadn’t even realized she’d had questions about until now.
“Oh Wildcat, I’m sorry,” Scorpia said, resisting with all her might the urge to just scoop Catra up and hug her. “I didn’t know.” Obviously, or she wouldn’t have asked in the first place. “Oh! I have ice cream. Did you want some ice cream?”
Ice cream seemed like it might help even when hugs wouldn’t.
Catra fought back a reflexive wince. The pity - or sympathy? - had been something she’d been trying to avoid. By now she accepted what had happened to her as some kind of karmic justice for her long list of crimes, but even that probably couldn’t even begin to balance out the scales.
(Adora liked to argue that she ‘helped’ save the universe too. Catra would then argue back that all she literally did was get sappy and smooch her. The results were cool though.)
“I’m fine, on both ends - I’m not really a ‘eat your feelings’ kind of person,” she chuckled tensely, still fiddling restlessly with her ring. “But, uh.” Fuck, how to even continue this? Catra knew the words she needed to say. Ultimately they were I’m sorry but she also felt as if Scorpia deserved something more detailed. “I know I… hit rock bottom. Pretty bad. Back in the Horde.”
To be fair she was always pretty ornery, except it had gotten so much worse after what happened with the portal - after she sent Entrapta to Beast Island, lost her mind and decided to make reality go tits up because she couldn’t handle the swirl of every terrible feeling making her rotten on the inside. Back then she wanted to sweep up all the shattered pieces of her broken heart, mold them into a massive bomb and throw it back into the world so everyone else could feel what she felt.
And she’d put the blame on Adora’s shoulders, as if Shadow Weaver hadn’t wanted her to do that their entire lives. As if that woman wasn’t blameless for the little monster she created out of Catra.
“You always tried being there for me even when I felt like I had no one, and I just… didn’t let you. I think part of me always thought you were trying too hard to replace Adora for me? But you couldn’t, no one could. Then there was a part of me that thought what was the point, you know? Everyone always leaves me behind. Making friends, getting attached. It’s all stupid.”
Clearly she didn’t believe that now and it wasn’t an excuse. A little context of where her mind was during that time was a little helpful, is all.
“I got attached anyway. It’s not that I never cared, it’s…” Catra wished she had somehow rehearsed this entire spew of raw feelings out in the mirror or even on paper just to make sure she was making sense. “I guess it doesn’t matter if I did care or not. Maybe the fact that I did makes it worse. I treated you like shit anyway most days. I drove you away. You did the right thing by leaving. I’m sorry. For all of it. For being the biggest asshole and going too far with everything. You deserved better. And I hope you know you don’t really owe me any forgiveness for it, either.”
For whatever reason she’d gotten lucky making amends with most of the crew. Turns out that being stuck on a spaceship under the watchful eye(s) of Horde Prime was a great environment to bond with Sparkles (of all fucking people). Bow seemed to easily accept her for saving his girlfriend and thought she was too cute now to ever be a menacing creature of destruction. Entrapta should have wanted to kill her and instead helped her, and had told Catra that she’d been forgiven without resistance (how???). Perfuma and Netossa had warmed up to her, and Frosta seemed toned down the frostiness (no pun intended) after giving her a well-deserved punch in the face.
No need to elaborate on Adora.
Mermista probably wanted to drown her though and that was fair. Point was - just because others gave her the courtesy of a second chance doesn’t mean they are all obligated to. And the last thing Catra wanted was for Scorpia to feel obligated.
Okay, no ice cream then. Scopia listened, biting her tongue whenever she wanted to interject (It's not your fault and of course I understand and I get it, because, she reminder herself, the things Catra did were her responsibility, no matter what she's been going through, and no, Scorpia could never understand or get exactly what that had been. Scorpia had come too far to go back to "Catra is always faultless"). Scorpia didn't always do well with Serious Conversation, despite how much she'd always wanted Catra to open up, but Catra deserved Scorpia at least trying without just brushing everything under the rug.
"I did deserve better," Scorpia said, when Catra was finally done, and she thought Perfuma would be proud. She could almost hear her voice in the words. "But of course I forgive you, Catra. Not because I think I owe you it, but because I want to. And… and I'm sorry too. Not for leaving. No that," she chuckled a little, nervously, "that I think was the best decision I made. For me, I mean."
She'd known what it would do to Catra as soon as she'd seen Shadow Weaver with the Princess Alliance. How her leaving would make things worse for Catra. But even then, she hadn't regretted leaving Catra. For leaving the Horde. And maybe by that point Catra had come to be the physical embodiment of the Horde: someone or something that Scorpia gave her complete and total loyalty to while getting nothing back.
"But I don't think I was a very good friend to you either. I mean, I tried, but I didn't really know what friendship was." Maybe no one in the Horde had. "I know I was a lot. You were always asking for space and I never gave it to you, and maybe… I should have listened to you too, sometimes. I was trying to replace Adora, and I thought the best way to do that was to force you to open up even when you weren't ready." And sometimes if you forced something to open up, you broke it. Like trying to pry the petals open on a flower instead of letting it bloom.
She couldn’t even feel butthurt about Scorpia admitting that leaving had been the best decisions she’d made because - duh. It had been the best decision for Adora too. Neither of them should feel sorry about that. Her own inability to leave despite knowing everything they were responsible for (and ultimately, what she was responsible for in the name of the Horde) was on Catra. It was the evil she knew. It was the evil that made her and the evil she wanted to be accepted by so badly, just to prove she was worth something; that she was capable of being more than someone’s tag-along or afterthought.
And she did prove she was a force to be reckoned with. Catra didn’t need magic to leave an impression. Only thing was, though - the impressions she’d left behind were awful ones that scarred, shaped like claw marks that bled nothing but rage and resentment. She didn’t get why people wanted to forgive her but if she had their forgiveness then she would do her best to be someone worthy of it.
Catra’s tail had wrapped around her own waist as if she was trying her best to occupy as less space as possible. Her shoulders were apprehensive and high, eyes watching Scorpia as she said her peace - the whole space thing and relentless persistence. Which, admittedly, did contribute to her attitude towards her back then. The last thing she wanted to give her was false hope that something would ever happen between them and while she’d been cruel, that was a line she refused to cross.
She’d been tempted, once. At the Crimson Waste. It was an impulsive, spur-of-the-moment almost. Catra was relieved that nothing ended up happening.
“You at least had good intentions with the mistakes you made,” she said, looking away briefly - but eventually the eye contact was made again. Tentatively, of course. “I don’t hold it against you, if that’s what you’re looking for. We were bad for each other. I hate the way everything happened, but… I’m glad things are better. For both of us.”
“I just wanted you to know that I know,” Scorpia said. “I’m glad things are better too. Things were really hard for a while, but I’m glad you’re happy now, Catra.” She squeezed the potted plant between her pincers before she realized what she was doing, but it didn’t break, just like Catra had said it wouldn’t. “Can I give you a hug?” she asked, all in a rush, because this seemed like a very huggy moment, and it was killing her that there were no hugs being had.
That might honestly be the first time Scorpia’s ever asked to give a hug. Caught Catra by surprise, if she were being honest. But, like. In some good, funny way. It’s not like she didn’t appreciate the heads up before her bones were pulverized in a tight embrace either.
Assuming it was that kind of hug but did she really know how to give any other hugs?
“Yeah,” she breathed out with a rapid set of blinks. Then, she repeated herself again just to make sure she sounded sure. “Yeah. I mean. If you want. I’m - not opposed to hugs these days. Uh. So how do I -”
Catra stood and then kind of… flailed a little awkwardly and why was she like this, she knew how to give hugs! In Vallo she’s hugged more people than she ever had in her entire life before this but what are you supposed to do with your hands again??
Catra didn’t need to worry, because if there was anything that Scorpia would never in her entire life forget, it was how to hug. All she really needed was Catra’s permission (Not opposed to hugs these days. Vallo really had changed her), and she stepped up and wrapped her arms around her, gentler than the bone crushing hugs that Catra might have remembered.
A hug that didn’t involve cutting off air circulation or limbs breaking? Catra tensed, and not because she didn’t appreciate the gesture. It was because, admittedly, she wasn’t sure if this would ever happen again. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever get a chance to hug her back after all this time, either.
But this time she did; she hugged her back with arms much smaller than hers. Catra felt herself finally relax. If Scorpia listened closely, she could even hear a whispered thank you.
“Is…” she pulled back to look up at her, squinting. “Ice cream still on the table?”
There’d been a long time when Scorpia had dreamed of Catra hugging her back, though probably not like this. This, she thought, was better than however she’d imagined it before. Catra had been the first person to really show Scorpia any kind of friendship - when she’d convinced Scorpia to go to the Princess Prom with her - and Scorpia had latched on to that with everything she’d had. But her and Catra would have never worked romantically, probably not even if Adora hadn’t been in the picture.
But this was nice. Because maybe she and Catra could work good as friends without… everything else that had been going on in the Horde hanging over their heads.
“Ice cream is always on the table,” Scorpia said, holding onto Catra’s shoulders for just a moment longer, smiling down at her. And then she let go and lead the way to the kitchen. “Or, well, in the freezer, I guess. Zuko brought some over and I can’t believe I’ve never had it before! I can’t believe the Horde never had any ice cream. Or pizza. Or… or anything other than ration bars, actually.”
Catra felt hundreds of pounds lighter. It was weird, and freeing, and she knew an apology didn’t fix everything (it hadn’t for Adora either but they had worked through it, and sometimes they were still working through it). This was a good step forward towards - something. Something better. Like an actual friendship that wasn’t tainted by Catra’s abandonment issues and rage, or Scorpia’s need for her good graces and space.
“The Fright Zone did have some food contraband,” she brought up, eyebrow quirked and mouth forming this toothy little smirk. Obviously not to the extent of what was really out there but she remembered having a few indulgences - like a cup of applesauce she’d gotten her hands on during her cadet years, that had been a wild experience for her mouth. After that she didn’t give a shit about actual food because running the Horde took up most of her time. “But no, nothing good like ice cream, sadly. Zuko better have gotten you a good flavor though.”
She had come here expecting the worst because she’d argue she deserved the worst, but with moments like these would never stop taking Catra by surprise. So she’d roll with it, and would do her damn best to not mess up these seconds chances people kept giving her.