WHAT: Catra's sick, Adora has suspicions (but really it's grocery store sushi that's to blame) WHERE: Darla WHEN: Early this morning WARNINGS: Food poisoning but nothing explicit STATUS: Complete
Even though her life wasn’t a constant war anymore, Adora hadn’t yet learned how to sleep much deeper than she always had. Sleeping light was ingrained into her bones after her years in the Horde. Shadow Weaver was never shy about waking them at a moment’s notice as part of some training exercise or whatever, dependent on her whim. These days, unless she specifically made sure to take an edible before going to bed, she still slept as if she might need to be on her feet whenever that blaring alarm sounded.
Thankfully, the nightmares she’d been having during the wedding planning had faded out again, so resting came a little easier. They still came through occasionally, but now that her stress levels had evened out, she had gone back to mostly dreamless sleep. Having Catra purring and wrapped around her was always a help, if not an outright deterrent.
Tonight, though, was different. Adora woke up when she felt Catra climbing out of bed and hurrying into the ensuite. She turned to slap at her phone and read the time: 4:07 AM. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she turned to squint at the closed bathroom doors through bleary vision.
Getting up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom wasn’t completely unusual for either of them. Adora especially went through a lot of liquids during the day, and well, that was what happened. But this had to have been the third time (maybe even fourth?) that Catra had gotten out of bed tonight. Adora had mostly been drifting back to sleep, not thinking much of it, but this time, she could hear the sounds coming from the bathroom — and they were very not normal.
Instead of waiting it out this time, she swung her legs out of bed, prompting Ivy to jump off the bed and pad toward the bedroom doors, probably to go stalk whatever invisible vermin she could find in the halls. Adora rounded the bed, pausing only to rub Spirit’s ears while he slept in his dog bed, blissfully unaware of his mothers’ troubles, before stepping through the ensuite’s sliding doors.
And there she was on her knees, bent over the toilet, obviously sick. Any remaining vestiges of sleep vanished in an instant as Adora snapped into full awareness. She hurried over to her wife, kneeling beside her and pulling her hair back off her face. She wrapped the thick mane up loosely in one fist, the other hand raising to stroke through the sweat on her cheek.
“I’ve got you, honey,” she murmured, her voice low and comforting. “It’s gonna be okay.”
Ugh, this was the worst. Catra hated it, wished she could curl somewhere and go to sleep but her body was revolting and that was why she was here for what felt like the millionth time and seriously considered sleeping in here to keep the constant back and forth to a minimum. She wasn’t someone who got sick often, and if she did it was hidden well - a magicat survival instinct, so they said, because illnesses meant vulnerability. It worked in her favor during her cadet years except for this one time when she was a bitty thing. The downside of magicats (or even regular felines) hiding sickness so well meant that there wouldn’t be any obvious symptoms until it progressed to something more dangerously severe.
This hadn’t been a gradual development of being sick. This was sudden, and miserable, and she wasn’t shy about Adora seeing her be this graceless puddle of blargh considering all they’ve been through. She did feel kinda guilty about waking her though.
“I’m dying,” she whined, and purred in a way that wasn’t content. It was an anxious, sickly vibration. “Melog went to get me another gatorade because they said something about electrolytes but I threw that up too. Am I dying?? Yeah, I’m dying.”
“You are not dying,” Adora insisted, pulling the hair tie around her wrist up to tie Catra’s hair into a loose ponytail. That should keep it out of her face and free up both hands for her to rub up and down her wife’s back, trying her best to soothe her despite how much the anxious purrs rumbling out of her ramped up her nerves.
“You should have gotten me up sooner to sit with you,” she chastised gently. She wanted to be there, even for moments like this, but she knew Catra wasn’t used to being doted on when she was sick. Usually, those magicat instincts took over and she managed to power through without anyone knowing any better. She could only remember one time where Catra had gotten really sick in the Horde, and she’d been the one to hide her away, cover for her, and take care of her when Shadow Weaver wasn’t looking.
This might end up being one of those times. Thank whatever gods were out there that Shadow Weaver wasn’t looming over them anymore.
“Didn’t wanna wake you,” she croaked and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, making a face. The bathroom tiles felt nice and cool against skin and fur, she really didn’t want to move from here. For now she straightened up from her crouch over this beloved porcelain statue and leaned into Adora.
Melog was back within seconds, the gatorade following them in that telekinetic bubble. The bottle landed in Catra’s hands and she kind of just - looked at it, dreadfully. “Unless She-Ra can cure the gross out of me. Wanna try? Because this is the only time I’ll agree to be at the end of a magical experiment.”
Groan. Her stomach hurt, and she rubbed her hand over her flat belly.
Adora wrapped her arms around Catra as she settled back against her and pressed her nose into her hair. Seeing her so miserable tied her stomach up in knots, but now that she was up, she was staying up. She wouldn’t have Catra suffering alone — and really, it wasn’t much earlier than when she usually got up for the day, anyway.
She raised her eyebrows at Catra’s suggestion and shrugged a shoulder. “I can try,” she agreed. She’d never tried to heal people of illness, but she had healed an old injury for Leon. Maybe it wasn’t impossible — certainly worth a shot. So, she placed her hand next to Catra’s over her belly and closed her eyes.
Magic thrummed through her, warming her inside and out, as it usually did. But the healing glow that usually radiated from her was dimmer than usual, and the usual zing of power she felt never came. After a few moments, her efforts faded altogether, and she was left lifting her hand to her face to inspect, as if that might reveal what had gone wrong.
“So…I guess I can’t?” She looked puzzled, confusion evident in her voice when she spoke. “Sorry, baby.”
It was wishful thinking. Valiant effort too, even if her hopes got a bit high when Adora lit up like a beacon and the warmth radiating from her was soothing. It was calming, and familiar, and -
Oh, did she have to barf again?
Catra lurched forward with a wince, fighting back the urge and succeeding which was, like, surprising considering she felt like she was ten seconds away from ejecting her organs out. But to be safe she switched her object of support back towards the damn toilet, tail twitching and ears pinned back to her skull. “It’s fine,” she strained and swallowed the icky taste teasing the back of her throat. “I’m just - gonna stay here, okay? I don’t wanna move anymore.” Melog made a sound, nudging the gatorade in her hands that she sloppily shoved back into their muzzle. “Shoo, take this back, I don’t want it.”
Melog gave off an irritated snort and gave Adora this deadpan look. They couldn’t communicate like they did with Catra but those eyes very much expressed a thought along the lines of do something about your wife.
Adora bit her lip and nodded at Melog. She understood them well enough to get the gist of what they were trying to say, even if she wasn’t psychically linked to them like Catra. The look she gave them in return was apologetic on her wife’s behalf. She knew they understood, despite their annoyance.
“You sure you don’t want to try a few sips?” she suggested, wrapping her hands around the bottle to keep it close while the other returned to rub Catra’s back. “Or maybe some crackers or toast to settle your stomach?”
Catra closed her eyes to let out this long, pained hum and if it was difficult to decipher whether or not it was a sign of protest or her trying to keep whatever contents that still excited in her stomach down. Put her out of her misery, she was over this. “Maybe,” she relented, because she did want her damn stomach to settle so she could sleep off the rest of whatever this was.
What even was this, some stomach virus? Vallo making half of its population toss cookies? She didn’t know but guess what, she fucking hated it.
Her blue eye cracked open to peek at Adora. “I guess… we can try something dry. I’ll try to drink this later?”
Melog let out a trill of approval, and went to push their head into Catra’s side for her to move. They were met with hands weakly pushing their snout away. “No. I live here now, stoppit. S’my new room.”
Adora rolled her eyes, all fondness, and reached out to pet Melog nicely since Catra was being so difficult. “Do you mind bringing a pack of crackers in here?” she asked them, meeting those glowing blue eyes. Once upon a time, that glow might had felt a little eerie and ominous, but she knew better than that now. “I’ll bring her out to bed as soon as she’s up to it.”
Moving Catra right now wasn’t going to go well for any of them. And if she kept on feeling that need to empty her stomach, dragging her further away from the toilet was only going to make her have to run and she didn’t seem like she felt up for that. Even the way she swatted at Melog was weak and half-hearted, Adora noticed.
“Think it’s a fever?” she questioned, her free hand moving to lay her palm across Catra’s forehead. She was suspiciously hot, and it was usually Adora of the two of them that ran at higher temperatures. “Lemme grab the thermometer and check.”
“Don’t,” Catra sighed, cheek squished up pitifully against the toilet seat. Melog pushed the gatorade back into her before trotting off to get those aforementioned crackers. “I checked. I’m hot and yucky but it’s not a fever.” Her body was running a degree higher than usual although it didn’t cross fever territory - so it wasn’t that she had an infection.
Her hand kept rubbing her stomach as if it’d soothe the discomfort. It was beginning to ease up a little as the night went on. Or morning, whatever time it was. “It’s probably a bug, it’ll be fine. Just don’t wait on me. Go do your stuff.”
It was probably pointless since Adora liked to hover, but she’d try. Catra was notoriously needy though, she also definitely wouldn’t say no to being spooned and petted.
Adora had just started to push up off her feet but sat back down as soon as Catra told her she’d already checked. She was still concerned, but knowing fever wasn’t on the table eased it a little bit. Took a few possibilities that had started swimming through her head out of the running. She wished she’d brought her phone, so she could do some googling, but it could wait.
“No way, I’m staying right here with you. It’s still early for my stuff right now.” She scooched a little closer again and slipped her hand up to cover Catra’s and join in the slow rubbing motions. If it was soothing her at all, Adora wanted to help. She tucked her chin over her wife’s shoulder and kissed her cheek, keeping close to her without pulling her away from the toilet — just in case.
She was quiet for a little bit, just keeping her hand moving and her nose nuzzling against Catra’s face, when a thought occurred to her. It was like a lightbulb moment, and she couldn’t believe it had taken this long for the possibility to click. Especially with how frequently certain things had been happening recently.
“Do you think,” she began quietly, trying to broach the subject carefully, “maybe…you’re pregnant?”
Mmm, s’nice. Adora being close, the physical doting. Catra was so tired, and she was almost sure if she let her eyes flutter shut for more than a few seconds she’d fall asleep easily - which sounded divine. Her night had been full of interruptions and restlessness, she just wanted to snooze for hours.
It was tempting, until her wife suggested that.
“What.” Catra blinked, and raised her head and gave Adora this look. “No. That’s not - no way.” Right? Like, she didn’t really understand how that’d work for them in the scheme of things besides the sword playing a critical role in, uh. That. Sure, they’d been using it with a little more frequency because it was fun and they felt like it and she wasn’t going to worry about what it could lead to. They wanted Finn in their lives again, some day. Whatever happened, happened.
But. You know. That was going to be something Future Catra would tackle. Not something that’d happen now, presumably. “It’s, um. It’s way too soon for - ugh.”
Another wave of nausea hit and Catra squirmed a little. Nothing happened though, thankfully.
Adora was trying to tamp down the wave of hope building in her chest. They didn’t really have any evidence that pregnancy was causing Catra to feel sick. Nausea and vomiting were symptoms of early pregnancy (which Adora knew because she may or may not have been doing some mildly obsessive googling). But they were also symptoms of literally millions of other things.
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“Yeah, maybe not,” she relented because there was no point in pushing it. She wanted it so badly; she missed their baby, and even the two little girls they’d only heard of from her future self. She wanted them, now, as immediately as she could have them. She also knew her baby fever wasn’t a good look and pushing her wife would only irritate her.
She just…couldn’t completely help herself.
“But…maybe? We’ve been, you know. Using the sword. Kind of a lot,” she pointed out.
That wasn’t an entirely intentional ‘I want to make babies’ move on her part, but it wasn’t not. They had put together that her magic in combination with the sword was what had brought their kids about, sure, but it also just felt really good. It could completely meld into her body and feel (if not look) like a part of her. Using it was always a good time.
That nausea was persistent and this time it had to do more with the topic of conversation. Her tail was a little more active now, swishing. Melog finally returned with a box of crackers, the new remedy encased in that telekinetic bubble, and instead of letting it float towards Catra who would - most likely - thwap it away, they made sure it was Adora who received it.
They did sense the weird moods and gave a curious tilt of their head though.
Catra groaned and held the weight of her head with her hand, elbow on the toilet, and she was blushing like a rose. “I know Finn is supposed to happen when we’re still young but - we’re really young, I don’t think it’s them. It’s… something I ate, maybe?? Uh, like this one time I ate some spoiled contraband in the Horde that made me sick. I didn’t know it was spoiled because why would I know, and I should have figured something was up because it smelled weird but I… don’t think I ate anything spoiled last night?”
Adora leaned back to retrieve the crackers from Melog, sliding a finger along the seam to pop the top of the box open. She was listening while she focused on pulling a plastic strip of crackers free and tearing it open. She nodded as she held a cracker up to her wife’s lips, refraining from commenting on how rosy red she’d become; she had to admit that what Catra was saying made more sense. Pregnancy symptoms would probably have started a little more subtly than the sudden onslaught they were experiencing right now.
There was still a pang of disappointment, but she pushed it aside to start racking her brain. She couldn’t really remember what it was they’d eaten last night. She ate enough that meals tended to blur together unless it was something especially significant. She thought it was take-out, maybe, because she didn’t remember Catra cooking last night.
Her eyes suddenly widened when it hit her. Guilt instantly knotted her stomach.
“That sushi,” she breathed. “Oh gods, Leon told me not to buy it at the grocery store, but I didn’t listen.” She’d been convinced he was just exaggerating. Surely they wouldn’t sell something at the store that could make you sick, right?
It was weird to even attempt eating with her face so close to toilet water, so Catra made herself sit up straight and huddle back into Adora’s side. The cracker was taken and nibbled on cautiously. “I didn’t know you got that from the grocery store,” she blinked. “And I didn’t know that’s something you could get from the grocery store. That explains why it tasted kind of… terrible?”
She didn’t want to say anything because Adora went out of her way to be cute and surprise her with her favorite food - and she didn’t feel like she needed to ask exactly where she got it? It was presumably a restaurant. “I ate it anyway because it’s adorable that you got it for me but… yeah. It was pretty bad. Actually - I started feeling like crap not long after dinner.”
That tracked, then. It made more sense than getting magically knocked up.
“But we always could, um.” Catra cleared her throat awkwardly. “Take a test just to be extra sure because now you’ve got me paranoid.”
Adora settled back against the wall opposite the toilet, stretching out her legs and pulling Catra up against her properly. At least this gave them a modicum of space so it felt less weird for her to eat here. There were few places Adora wouldn’t eat, but the bathroom was one of them, so she totally understood.
She was the one beet red now, though. She really had been trying to be sweet and bring Catra food she loved. She’d though Leon was exaggerating about how awful grocery store sushi was, but maybe she should have listened. If it really was the cause of how Catra was feeling now, she’d made a dumb choice. Not that such a thing was really unusual when it came to her.
She tried, okay?
Catra’s suggestion was met with raised brows because — well, she’d bought what she was saying about the unlikelihood of pregnancy hook, line, and sinker. But the possibility did still exist, and maybe it was best to put the paranoia to rest the easiest way.
“We can,” she agreed. “If you want to? I can take Spirit out and run to the store to grab a test. A few, maybe? I hear sometimes you can get false results with just one, so maybe, like, a handful would be smart?”
Catra did the thing where she balled up - knees tucked into her chest, tail wrapped around her ankles. Her ears remained pathetically low. Yes, she was being a fucking baby but this was allowed, and cuddling up against Adora was nice. Made her purr genuinely this time.
Melog mirrored her a bit, laying on the cool floor with a purr of their own and nuzzling at Adora’s leg. “I mean, I don’t think you have to go overboard,” she chuckled scratchily. “But it’d give me a moment of privacy to clean up. I need to brush my teeth, and shower. Try to sleep forever.”
Her ribs were sore from throwing up so much - how was that even a thing? Wah.
“Either way,” she peered up, looking like hell warmed over still because her hair was a mess despite Adora tying it back and her cheeks were still pink and she was a tiny bit sweaty. A mock look of offense crossed her face. “You did this to me.”
A surprised laugh escaped Adora before she could stop it, and at the same time, her face reddened to the tips of her ears. Catra was right, though. Whether it was food poisoning or pregnancy making her feel so horrible, Adora was kind of responsible for it. She felt guilty and a little bit ashamed; she never wanted Catra to suffer because of her, but it was too late at this point. Right now, she just needed to focus on helping her feel better.
Had she not just been bent over throwing up, this was probably when Adora would have leaned in and kissed her. As it stood, she pressed a kiss just to her sweaty forehead and gave her a very gentle squeeze. “I know,” she murmured. “I guess that means I have to fix it, huh?”
Catra had to laugh too, it was contagious. This situation was ridiculous no matter the cause anyway. They must be a funny sight like this, on the bathroom floor with a box of crackers and an unopened gatorade and cuddling. “You’re required to be at my beck and call,” she grinned at her toothily. “Constant spooning, that’s how you fix it.”
Really, she didn’t particularly enjoy feeling like shit but she wasn’t mad about it no matter the cause (money’s on the grocery store sushi, gross). It would pass. “Thanks for getting up with me,” Catra tacked on after another brave cracker nibble. “I feel a little better. You help.”
Melog made a noise suspiciously close to a grumble.
“Yeah, yeah. You help too, buddy.”
Another noise, this time louder.
“I’ll drink this thing when I want to drink it.”
Adora chuckled again, reaching out with one hand to give Melog some well-earned, grateful pets. “I’ll always get up with you,” she told Catra, dropping another kiss on the bridge of her nose before leveling serious blue eyes on her. “Part of the whole marriage package. And I don’t want you to worry about waking me up, okay? I’d rather be with you, no matter how gross you feel, than sleep through it like an idiot.”
She knew there wasn’t technically anything she could do — her healing fail was proof of that — but she could be there. She wanted to be moral support, at least, and provide all the cuddles and kisses she could ever want. Spooning, too.
“Think you’re up to laying back down for a little while? I can carry you out there and get you settled before Spirit and I head for the store.”
Gods, she really should get up and try to wash the ick off herself, but - she was also just so damn tired, and the thought of Adora doing the heavy lifting by bringing her dead weight back to bad sounded divine. Catra’s eyes fluttered shut, and she tucked her face into the crook of her neck. “Yeah,” she rasped out. “Please?”
Allowing Adora to take care of her had been a work in progress at this age. Back then she thought of the gesture as smothering, as if she was incapable of taking care of herself so Adora had to come swooping in with her hero complex. But she had the clarity now to know that it wasn’t like that, and if she were to be honest - her wife was damn good at taking care of her when she needed it.
The crackers and gatorade were wrapped up into Melog’s telekinetic prowess as they made their exit out of the bathroom. Those would go on the nightstand for convenience. “Promise you’ll stay until I fall asleep?”
As soon as Catra agreed, Adora started moving, shifting onto her feet as smoothly as she could while cradling her wife in both arms. She followed Melog out the sliding doors, trying to keep any shifting minimal so she didn’t accidentally stir up any more of Catra’s nausea. In a few moments, she’d settled Catra into the pillows and sat down on the edge of the bed to hold her hand.
“I’ll be right here,” she murmured, free hand brushing her wife’s bangs out of her eyes. “You don’t even have to ask. I’ve got you.”
She doubted she’d be going back to sleep now, not with all this on her mind. But no, she wasn’t leaving. She wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to take care of Catra when she could. It had taken them a while to get to this point — her being less smother-y and Catra being more receptive. They were still learning, but they’d both come a long way.
“Try a tiny sip of gatorade for me before you sleep?” she asked, reaching out to grab the bottle before she put on her best puppy dog eyes.
Catra didn’t know what she was thinking; their bed was a hundred times better then the bathroom floor. Blame it on the cacophony of familiar scents she found herself surrounded with, causing her purrs to roll and roll. She’d love nothing more than to pass out into oblivion but Adora’s voice cut through the haze, begging her to put some effort into hydrating.
She sighed, dramatically.
“Fine,” she agreed, groggily forcing herself up into this half-sit position so she could untwist the cap and take baby sips. The drink was a little too sweet for her liking right now - part of why she couldn’t keep it down before - but she’d try to stomach it a second time. Her insides accepted it for the moment. “Happy??”
Melog definitely was, she could tell. After setting the bottle aside she flopped down for good this time, burrowing into Adora; face rubbing into her chest, tail wrapped around her leg, purrrrrr. “Love you. Pet me, ‘kay? Feels nice when you do.”
Once Catra accepted the bottle, Adora clambered over her to settle down in the middle of their bed. She knew giving Catra her hand to hold wasn’t going to be enough for her when she was feeling like this, especially when they were both so used to being cuddled up together in bed these days. She let herself relax, reassured that her wife was okay, and maybe her eyes got a little fluttery. Spirit was still asleep; she could wait a little bit longer.
She hummed and nodded, letting Catra’s purrs vibrate over her skin as she stroked the backs of her shoulders, then slowly up and down her spine. “Love you,” she whispered back, kissing the top of her head. “Wake me up if you start feeling sick again, okay? I’ll be right here.”