WHAT: Catching up with Dan trying to ~dad~ Catra as she opens up about a few things WHERE: Dan & Allison's House WHEN: Before the creepy fucker plot and Adora's birthday methinks WARNINGS: It's soft STATUS: Complete
Claire was about to turn seven years old, which meant that her chore chart (hung prominently on the fridge) sort of morphed and changed over the past year - by now, she had washing dishes by hand as a feature item, and although the kitchen had an actual dishwasher Dan and Allison always left out a plate, a cup, and some silverware to give her practice at handwashing. She also helped Dan make dinner by way of finding ingredients and putting them away - it checked off a notch on the chart, yes, but it also gave him sort of a weird ache in his chest because this was something he used to do with Nick, whom he missed a lot. Granted, it wasn’t a chore chart for Nick (he was far too old for that) but still - it was a way to spend time together, and Dan still felt that ache. A longing that was a rope pulled taut in the pit of his stomach - most of the time he was able to work around it but sometimes he felt it keenly.
He got attached to certain people. That was inevitable. Though he was glad that, according to Sabrina, Nick got a second chance. It helped ease how much Dan missed him, quite a bit - all he ever wanted was happiness for those two.
And despite the diligence of the aforementioned chore chart, that didn’t mean the kitchen wasn’t a mess right now - in Dan’s view, it sort of was even if he realistically knew it could be worse. He and Allison had settled nicely into their quirky robin’s egg-blue house with the sloped roof, and the kitchen itself was very light and sunkissed - a retro stained glass piece in the window helped with that, and it was a little bit of a dedication to her 1960s era adventures. It also meant that Dan felt like every counter blemish was accentuated and he was simultaneously trying to tidy up and be a good host, after Catra stopped by.
It was a pleasant surprise. He sort of missed spending time with her, though he knew they’d both been busy as of late (she’d just gotten married). “If you want tea or coffee, I can make some?” he suggested, gathering some of Claire’s crayons and coloring books. “Or anything else. Something without too many vegetables, if you’re hungry.”
It’d been awhile - Dan was owed a visit, and Catra had been slacking. A lot had happened in the past several weeks (like, oh, a wedding) and a sprinkle of unexpected things before that had been kind of all-consuming. But she enjoyed coming here because it was so… homey? In this odd, classic way that she always recognized in movies and television shows; lived-in with a scent of its own that was a mix of the people that dwelled in it, spices and coffee.
Darla was eccentric and definitely home with the changes they’ve done to it but she was kind of soft for how cookie-cutter this almost was.
“I’ll take coffee, weirdo - I don’t need you to make me food,” she snorted, eyes rolling fondly. Dan was the first person she’d spoken to in Vallo and she was still getting used to the way he was with her sometimes. She was far past the age of needing some kind of parental figure (and the one she did have was a cunt, and dead), but being at the receiving end of how it could have been if she had an actual parent was… nice.
(Having her admit that was like pulling teeth sometimes, leave her alone.)
Catra unspooled the scarf from her neck so it wasn’t wrapped too tight. “Where’s the kid and the wife anyway?”
“I’m sure you don’t need me to but that’s not going to stop me from doing it,” Dan pointed out with a bit of a grin. He’d refrain for now, however, and just go with coffee - if he was feeling particularly domestic or he discovered that it had been far too long since Catra had a grilled cheese sandwich prepared with love as the key ingredient (he used to make them for Sabrina, when they lived in the mortuary) then all bets were off.
Heading toward the kitchen (and definitely grabbing a couple of errant crayons along the way - these were like Legos, forever lost and forever stepped on when you’d rather not; also it seemed like no matter how many crayons he gave Claire she either lost or broke them two days later), Dan dodged the PicassoTiles building set with all of its neon electric shades. It never ceased to amaze him, nor could he escape the fact that having a kid was pretty insane - anyway, the coffee maker was the goal, or more specifically, the fancy espresso machine Allison had gotten him for his birthday this year; this baby could produce dark brew better than Starbucks, not sorry. He turned it on to preheat it and began the process of grinding beans.
“They’re at the salon,” he continued. “Probably brushing some unicorn manes. I know Claire loves doing that and she loves learning new hair tricks from her mom.” Mostly the unicorn manes though. “How’s married life?” he asked then, glancing up from the grinder (after he put the lid on - beans shooting everywhere when you turned it on was no fun).
The excess outerwear was shed and neatly (for once - a courtesy she offered to everyone but Adora, sorry wifey) draped on a chair out of the way as she followed Dan towards the kitchen. Catra’s tail had that little curl at the end that looked like a question mark, or a hook. Meant that she was comfortable, that she was in a friendly mood. Imagine that.
“The same as non-married life,” she answered as she hoisted herself up on the kitchen counter. A cat’s favored perch; she was small enough not to bump into anything important. The corner of her mouth tugged into a smirk. “Which means it’s perfect. She still snores the same, squirms right before she farts - asks me dumb questions like ‘what if the alphabet started with the letter Z’?”
Yep, Adora was definitely the one and they already had the dynamic of an old, married couple that bickered uselessly over the dumbest shit. They loved each other despite all the flaws and quirky habits. Catra wouldn’t have it any other way. “Heard your teenager is, uh - my age now? How’s that going?”
The idea of knowing what your spouse did before they let one rip really was the mark of a happy marriage, Dan supposed. It made him laugh as he continued prepping that coffee - shots of espresso and a damn near expert hand by now; Allison had gotten him this machine because he tended to work long hours when things went topsy-turvy here. Though the mention of Sabrina had him whooshing out a quviet breath, as if he wasn’t sure whether to be amused or stressed about it; in a way it was sort of an easy decision. She was alive and well, she had Nick, she could pursue her goals and her dreams freely - but it also seemed sad, in a way. To miss that chunk of time here, even if it - probably - was for the best.
“It’s hard to really know how to feel about it,” he admitted. “All I know is that I saw how much she was hurting and I couldn’t do anything about it. She thought everything was final, back in her world and realizing that it’s not helped her - so I’ll take it. Do I think it’s a shame she lost years here? Yes, in a way. Healthy grieving is important too, as a process and something everyone goes through.” Then again, she hadn’t really been healthy about it at all - and the circumstances surrounding her loss were a lot more bleak too.
Catra was a little awkward with other people, uh - feeling things. Grief was strange. She had known Sabrina was going through it hard and god, why wouldn’t she? That glimpse of the future she saw through Riley was most likely gone, a life back home didn’t seem possible and sometimes the only way to get over something was to get through it. She had extended options of distraction but wasn’t going to smother - not her place.
“I mean - she seems better,” was what she offered with a shrug, claws tapping against the countertop. “It’s a weird way to fast forward through the motions of loss and feeling like shit about it, but I hope it makes you worry and stress less about her? I know you always do.”
Dan was really that person, worrying and caring and doing, like, thoughtful things. He had definitely been patient with Catra despite how ornery she’d been upon arrival, weary and cranky from sleep-deprivation after a stunt that was essentially a sucide attempt. He checked in a lot, sent her vitamin refills. Didn’t crowd but hovered at a respectable distance. Seriously - he must be tired from all this pseudo-parenting.
The espresso smelled like heaven (or whatever constituted a heaven - jury was still out), roasted hazelnut and the perfect bit of acidity. And the foam, it was perfect too - like a cloud, really. Cotton ball fluffs, and he had two cups ready to go. “I’ll still worry but, yeah, not as much about that,” Dan agreed. Sabrina had been on course for a potential downward spiral that would end in a hard crash - and he wasn’t sure what he could have done to stop it, or how to step in for some kind of intervention. He’d done that before but definitely not with someone he used to look after - someone he would continue to look after, even if she might not need him to do that any longer.
One of the coffee cups was passed over to Catra, where she was perched oh-so-regally on the counter. Dan leaned nearby, a hip jutting out to rest there. “I’ll worry about you too,” he admitted, with a small smile that reached his eyes regardless. “I think it just comes with the territory.”
He was proud of her. He saw how far she’d come in the span of a year (close to it?) here in Vallo. But they all knew that this world wasn’t always kind. And you had to keep close to the people you cared about, because tomorrow was not guaranteed.
Yay, coffee. The cup warmed her hands, and she gave a tentative blow at the steam coming from it. It’d be a few minutes before she could take a sip without scalding her mouth and that was fine. They had time.
“Yeah, but - I’m fine,” Catra insisted. Her ears took a cute little dip, flattening against the wild craziness of her hair in a way that was admittedly bashful. “It’s not like I’m…”
Going through anything, she wanted to say. Which wasn’t exactly wrong but it also just wasn’t exactly right, either. There was always going to be something she was sorting through and she’d been putting a dent in her, uh, more severe issues - like abandonment and trust and self-worth. Obviously she was doing something right because she had friends and somehow maintained those relationships without too much friction or issue. Catra was genuinely happy for once in her life.
But there were things she kept to herself, too. Things she didn’t think other people should know because - why, again? She tried to find a reason. None of their business? Meh, that was cold; the point of having friends was to share things and offer support. Did she think she deserved any kind of support? Absolutely not because she was total trash that did terrible things. That sure as hell tied into the self-worth issues she was working on.
Maybe she should work on that a little harder.
It took coming to that (reluctant) realization that she trailed off for way too many seconds and should reply. “Uh,” she cleared her throat. “I’m fine-ish now, really. Vallo kind of fucked with me a little last month though. Before the wedding.”
They had time, and the steam from those coffees drifted like a dream off the cups - like ghosts escaping, curling toward the ceiling. There were always ghosts. “Vallo does that,” Dan hitched a breath that was close to resembling a laugh. A bitter one, because while Vallo hadn’t fucked with him personally in awhile being that he was dead and gone (chapter closed, no epilogue, his story was final and no one was clanking the contents of a bag of bones and calling in favors with Baron Samedi to bring him back), he’d seen it plenty with those he knew and loved.
“It’s - to be expected, I suppose. Being here is nice sometimes and obviously we can be happy if we let ourselves feel that but it doesn’t magically erase what happened in the past. Long ago I realized - you took yourself with you, wherever you went.” There were similar quotes too, he supposed, phrased better by people who were better with words than he happened to be - but the sentiment remained.
He finally took a chance on that coffee, sipping slowly. “What happened?”
You took yourself with you, wherever you went. God, wasn’t that the fucking truth. Catra couldn’t shed her mistakes like a snake did with their skin - they were etched into her everyday thoughts, saw it all while she slept. Same with the trauma, and that was a word she loathed to use in regards to herself but since the shoe fit? Ugh.
“I had a set of clothes show up,” she sighed, and when she said it out loud it sounded really stupid. “Remember when I, um - woke up chipped? Dr. McCoy had to remove it. It’s from… that whole business.” Her hand gestured at nothingness vaguely. “It happened, like, forever ago and I’m used to things going to shit for me anyway and if magic’s real then so is karma, I had what happened to me coming.”
That’s what she told herself to make it easier, anyway - people who do bad things deserve to be on the receiving end of bad things, don’t they?
Catra took a gamble on the coffee’s temperature and took a sip, like drinking something would help loosen the tightness of her throat. It was hot but it didn’t sear down like fire. “It just… reminded me of what he did. How he got me into those robes. I never told Adora much about it.”
Aside from confirming that, yes, what he did to her was torture - he had even admitted that to her when she infiltrated his ship to face him, to get her back. Prime made sure to let Adora know she suffered until the end of it. With what happened recently she’d opened up more, confessing to a few specifics. Baby steps.
“Time is supposed to help you get over things, right?” she shrugged. “I guess I thought I was more over it than I really am, is all.”
“Sometimes,” Dan admitted, hands wrapped around the coffee cup. “Time helps take the edge off. But if you use time to heal it’s usually because you’re doing something specific with that time.” It wasn’t only about the mere passage of time, was the point. You couldn’t just sit there and let it drift on by, an echoing tick of a clock - there was also connecting with people, rewarding activities, or even meeting new folks. “Some experiences just leave us scarred for awhile - and scarring’s not a bad thing either, necessarily. It keeps us healthy.”
He knew Catra had been through a lot - she also carried a lot of guilt, a lot of baggage. Things that weighed on her - Dan understood, he identified. There was so much he had struggled with too, when it came to moving on. And believing he even deserved that.
“I also think that when it comes to the karma, not forgiving ourselves fully also keeps us from healing - no matter how much time passes.” He wasn’t sure where Catra was at in that process but she seemed to be doing a little better, at least. And he believed she’d get there fully.
Catra had been doing some productive stuff for herself - like activities to help her with those, uh, anger issues. Breathing exercises, yoga, meditation. Now she had enrolled in some art classes that weren’t exclusively college courses and that proved to be therapeutic. She had taken steps to be a better person, a better friend, but as for the Horde Prime thing?
Yeah. Her hopes of it all fading away into the abyss of her history hadn’t really gone well.
“Ugh - that’s so much emotional labor,” she sighed, sounding like some tired but petulant little teenager. But she got where he was coming from, and Dan nailed it on the head about self-forgiveness. Adora forgave her, she forgave Adora. Forgiving herself was a different story; and despite all the progress she’d made it was sometimes disheartening to still feel like a hot mess. Or a fraud, even. “Sorry. I’m just… don’t you get tired about hearing people’s shit all the time? Am I being annoying? I’m being annoying.”
God, what was with this word vomit. This is what happened when she kept herself from clamming up - she got awkward and spiraled a little and then she kind of began flailing on the counter like a useless cat.
Dan laughed a little, but not unkindly - it was a puff of air all about commiseration as he reached over and playfully batted at the curled end of Catra’s tail. He would have scratched behind her ears but he wasn’t sure if she’d appreciate that or not - still, he had plenty of love to give and would share all of that.
“You’re not being annoying,” he promised. “I think we may have even chatted about how we’ve done shitty things and getting past that more difficult than most people may anticipate?”
And she could come to him - whenever she needed to, whenever she wanted to. Dan liked to be there for those he cared about, and he wouldn’t take their trust for granted; the fact that Catra did open up to him meant a lot. “But I’m here for whatever you need - even when you just want food, with or without vegetables sneaked in, and not always the emotional labor.”
“We did, we did,” Catra confirmed - because she did recall that conversation. Vividly, in fact, as it was one of their first ones and Dan provided a weird emotional refuge for a few moments there. She did settle, and her tail did this curious thing where it kind of actually wrapped around his wrist - loosely - for a few seconds. “I just don’t like dumping stuff on people, or coming across as whiny or something. But people are supposed to need people, so.”
That came with the territory of friendships, she guessed. Back then she tried her hardest not to need anyone - and it had isolated her, drove everyone that did care away and left her with nothing. Rock bottom hurt like a bitch. “I’d also like to not be a half the mess I still am for whenever Finn, and - I took up some art classes? They kinda double as art therapy. They don’t count for college credit or anything because college still sounds like a scam to me but it’s neat.” Catra took another sip of coffee, grinning afterwards. I’ll make you a cartoon-y family portrait so you’ll feel forced to hang my stuff up like you do with Claire.”
“Art classes sound great.” Dan meant that too - he always thought classes like that, where you explored what you were interested in without any obligations or the pressure of school, were beneficial. It seemed stress relieving too. “I’d be happy to hang up whatever you make on the fridge. There’s space anyway,” he gestured to the appliance, which did have some of Claire’s first grade assignments on there - a couple of drawings (one was supposed to be a self-portrait, another was a multicolored plane flying and leaving puffs of cotton behind - cotton balls glued on paper, really) and a math thing she’d gotten good marks on.
But for Catra? He’d be proud to put up her art. The thought gave him kind of a warm and fuzzy feeling that didn’t have to do with hot coffee.
“People do need people though,” he agreed. “It’s not a bad thing. And for what it’s worth, I think that when Finn comes along you’re going to be great. Whenever it happens.” It was a little sad to know Ripley wasn’t going to be in the picture - or maybe she would, you never knew. But either way, Dan loved being a grandfatherly type and he’d be there for any kid he could spoil. Facts.
Catra hoped so. It was an awful idea to have fished for exact timelines of when their gremlin child would make an appearance - although her gut told her they’d still be young when it happened. Time to kick her own ass in gear. Not only for them but for herself too, obviously.
They just happened to be an extra motivator in the mix of things.
“What about you though?” she asked, dangling her legs enough to give him a gentle kick. “Considering you’re always there to lend an ear and give us encouraging pats on the back - what’s up with you? With the wife and kid and life thing>?”
“Hmm - “ Dan had to think about that for a moment. Because, for the most part, not much was happening - and he was actually okay with that. Was actually okay with being the listening ear and that person who gave encouraging pats on the back - it was the least he could do, especially when there was so much happening, constantly, and he didn’t have the magical skills that were often necessary to be able to lend a hand.
The Shining wasn’t anything magical or, at least, he never believed it was - a lot in Vallo had short of shown him otherwise (shoved it in his face, really) but he tried not to think about it; he knew who he was, after all this time. Or he liked to think so, anyway.
“We’re doing well,” he said. “Can’t believe I’ve been married for over a year now.” Him and Allison celebrated their first wedding anniversary in November and it was pretty low-key, all things considered - which he didn’t mind in the slightest. “She actually got me this for my birthday,” he motioned to the espresso machine. “Since things are always going wrong and I’m always in the clinic dealing with the injuries. Staying up late and whatnot. But - it’s just a part of life here, I guess.”
But speaking of the ear-lending and back-patting thing. Dan’s mouth twitched up in a half smile. “You sure you don’t want anything to go with that coffee, by the way?” Carrot pie? Just kidding, he didn’t have any of that.
Married for a year - good for them. He and Allison were so ‘hashtag life goals’ with how established they were here. Catra hoped that would be like, a forever thing and Vallo wouldn’t fuck them over by sending one of them home (considering Dan had nothing to go back to). “Yeah - I don’t envy you when shits hits the fan,” she mused. “I’ll do my best to not be one of your patients.”
The last time was, uh. That Interitus thing and She-Ra punching her ribs so hard they got cracked and did she listen to Dan when she told it to take it easy? Absolutely not. He dealt with too many stubborn people, poor guy. “And will you stop offering me food? Like, if you really wanna feed me then -”
Hmmm. Catra squinted at him, and thwapped Dan gently with her tail. “Make me that grilled cheese.”
“I knew you were going to ask for that,” Dan’s smile was a bit triumphant - like sunshine after the rain, and he immediately moved to go grab the frying pan and grab the cheese and butter from the fridge; he had some tomato he’d slice up too, and a rich multi-grain bread that would be perfect for this occasion. “May as well do it while I can, before shit hits the fan.”
And before Catra became one of his patients - she was stubborn as hell, yes, but he was pretty used to it by now. From her, from most of his loved ones - he’d just do his best. Like he always did.