WHAT: Dealing with the disappearances and talking about potentially disappearing themselves WHERE: Darla WHEN: Today WARNINGS: Some angst, some sadness, but it ends on a lighter note STATUS: Complete
No shoving expired bacon in the trash can. No having a meltdown over one slice of pickle. No slamming cabinets. Everything was just - fucking awful. It was a feeling that had been stacking up for awhile now, starting with Dan and working through Bow and now, now? It was Richie. Catra didnât believe it when she saw the notification coming through.
Like, that was fake - right? But there were so many other names joining the list (like Max, thank fuck Vallo took them out together), and dread took the form of this anvil that sank heavily in her gut. Instead of channeling it all through aggression, hisses, bared teeth she just went quiet. Numb, maybe? She didnât know what to call it or how to address it, didnât even care to. It all sucked anyway, the fuck did it matter.
The best she and Adora did was the bare minimum. Light, necessary chores - making sure the beasts were fed and walked, routine laundry tossed in the wash, an attempt at breakfast that was barely touched. In the end they said screw it, dragged their feet back up into their bedroom and went back to bed. It wasnât to sleep; they werenât in their normal spooning position (Big Spoon Adora, Little Spoon Catra) but instead chose to curl into each other, a ying-yang formation that kept their faces upside down to one another and close.
Closeness was the only thing that could even begin to make them feel better.
Catra would purr. It wasnât loud, wasnât happy. It stuttered. It was quiet, sad - anxious. The kind of sound that, when she was young, someone had called pathetic. And after a while, a long while, she lifted to her hand to rake through her wifeâs wheat blonde hair. âHey Adora,â she whispered. âI can hear you thinking hard.â
The past two months of Adoraâs life had felt like being punched in the face. Hard. Three times. Like just when the soreness and the sting had worn off, that same fist was waiting to make another attempt at breaking her face.
First, Dan. Then, Bow. Now, Richie. Max, too.
But Richie.
Before Adam had popped into Vallo and the reveal had eventually come that he was her brother, Richie and Leon had been the closest sheâd ever gotten to having a brother. Richie especially â he had been there from day one, and while heâd started out as Catraâs friend, he and Adora had forged an incredible bond of their own. He had always been there for her, no judgment, ready to listen to her vent her anxiety and help her joke her way through it when she ran out of steam.
He was a constant, for both of them, someone who had been there before them and would be there a good twenty years on with them, like her future self had told them. They were supposed to raise their kids together, but now? Richie and Max were gone. She didnât know if the little boy theyâd adopted was still out there. Everything was different. Again.
She wanted to power through after being sad for a while. It was what sheâd done when Dan disappeared and Bow, even though sheâd loved them, too. She hadnât pretended to be happy, because she wasnât, but sheâd trudged forward because life continued, like it or not, and she couldnât hide from it forever.
Today, though? Yeah. Hiding was the best she could do. The basics of keeping up with their animals (all of whom had subsequently piled around them in bed at this point) was so exhausting that laying down and expiring from sadness seemed like a fantastic idea. She was just deeply sad, and she could tell by those broken up little purrs Catra was, too.
And, yes, her brain was still running a million miles an hour.
âI just think we need to write up aâŠwill or something.â Her voice was quiet, blue eyes lifting to meet Catraâs. They had a hand each twined together between them and she squeezed them, taking a slow breath. âRichie and DanâŠtheyâre the only reason I ever thought this could be long-term, and now theyâre gone. We need toâŠget prepared, so everythingâs in order if one of us disappears next.â
What. Did she hear that right? Catraâs brain took a minute to catch up - not like it had been high-functioning today anyway, to hell with actual effort. Her gaze narrowed, taken back. âWhat are youâŠâ
Yeah, no. Things were depressing enough trying to reel from their losses to even contemplate the possibility of that right now. There was a sting in her eyes, the threat of tears that she forced back with a blink. With an irritable groan she pinched the bridge of her nose and rolled more onto her back because - god, fuck this with a chainsaw. âWeâre married. It doesnât matter. If one of us poofs away then the other gets their shit automatically, or whatever. Aside from the touchy feely commitment, thatâs the whole point.â
âYouâre right,â Adora sighed. She knew Catra wouldnât like this kind of conversation, and she did make a good point. If one of them disappeared without the other, of course anything left behind would go to the one still here. But it wasnât âthingsâ Adora was worried about, not really. Maybe âwillâ hadnât been the right word.
âBut if I disappear,â she continued, pressing onward despite knowing Catra would hate it, âI donât want you shutting down and shutting everyone out.â She gave their joined hands another quick tug, hoping to urge her wife closer but not forcing the situation. She just had to get this out, and she hoped Catra would hear her. âI want you to go to Bright Moon and be close to the others, okay? Let them be there for you.â
This was the part where Catra pulled away.
Gods, this was stupid. She hated it. She hated it because sheâs thought about this before, sometimes too much - about the what if. It was why she was always a little extra clingy; why she held onto Adora tighter at night, why she was always touching and kissing as if they were in a perpetual state of the newly-wed phase. If it happened, if she was left behind (why was she always left behind), there was comfort knowing that they were together back home too. But it would suck. It would still hurt.
And now she was thinking about it when she didnât want to, the cherry on top of all this ache. So when she pulled away she sat up, scrubbing a hand over her face to muffle the sound of a dumb sniffle and drew her knees towards her chest. âStop, Adora. Iâm not going to Bright Moon.â
Adora tilted her head to the side, watching Catra curl into herself for a moment before she pushed herself up, too. She scooted as close to her wife as possible, knee wedging between both of hers. She crossed her arms and dropped her chin to rest there, looking up at Catra with soft, sad eyes.
âSorry,â she murmured. âIâm justâŠscared. All these important people to us are gone now andââ She shook her head, looking away as tears welled in her eyes and her throat tightened until she couldnât bring herself to speak again. She had always known Vallo may not be permanent; it was hard to seriously think that when people disappeared so often. But sheâd let herself be fooled because it wasnât affecting them.
Now it was. Over and over and over again. The closest theyâd ever had to a dad, her best friend, the man she considered a brother. Who was to say it wouldnât be her next? Her sense of security was shattered.
âI know you are,â Catra replied, voice thick with a sadness she couldnât shake. Maybe she didnât need to. This was them. There was no reason to hide here, no secrets - but she knew she was doing that shutting down thing, trying to suppress the existence of a possible reality while Adora wanted to address it. Deja vu, the portal all over again. âI keep thinking - or hoping - thatâŠâ
Deep breaths, shaky breaths. That tail went to wrap around Adoraâs calf. âIf this place brought us here together then it should take us out, together.â That would be the ideal scenario. Best case scenario is that they stayed here, memories intact, living out the future the older Adora foretold. Except that future was beginning to crumble, diverging down a path she was afraid would lead to more loss. âBut I know that doesnât matter here, and you canât control what happens to me if you disappear. Just like I canât control what happens to you if I disappear.â
Adora squeezed her eyes shut, sniffling as the tears fell despite her best efforts to stop them. She hated that. She hated how out of control they were here, especially in situations like these. Because there was no arguing with Catra here â there was nothing she could do. She had told Catra (and Glimmer, but Catra didnât know that) what she wanted if she disappeared and Catra remained, but she couldnât force it. She wouldnât be here to see it happen.
âI hope if we doâŠâ She lifted her head, pushing her hands across her face in an effort to get herself together, regain some composure. âYeah, I hope itâs together. Like Dan and Allison and Claire. And I hope we go back to after the war, if we go back.â
She assumed that was what happened, but how could they really know? Very few people had left Vallo and returned to report back. And those who did â well, it seemed like there was still badness in their home worlds. Who was to say they wouldnât go right back to Primeâs ship and live it all out again? Or maybe it would go differently, diverge into a different timeline? If theyâd learned anything here, especially from Dr. Strange (who, gods was also gone, poor Wanda), it was that any and all of that was possible.
Adora, crying. That got to her. It always did. This wasnât new - they had cried over Dan, over Bow, had done it over Richie earlier too. But now she was crying for them, a sharp pang of hurt settling deep into her heart as she witnessed the tears clouding her eyes. âHey, dummy,â she whispered, achingly soft and dearly affectionate, opening her bodyâs posture so she wasnât tightly wound into herself.
There was hesitation on what to do next. Catra contemplated but not for long. Slowly, carefully, she captured her wifeâs wrists into her hands and began pushing her back into their bed. The intent was to sit on her, to straddle; pin her with her weight if allowed. Adora could push back anytime she pleased. âIâm going to say something, and I need you to promise me youâre going to listen, okay?â
Usually, Adora wouldnât resist what Catra was trying to do here. She knew it was all in an attempt to help her breathe, to take away just a little control so she could force her body to relax. This time, she pushed back because she wasnât ready â but only for a moment. Inevitably, she allowed herself to be guided back into their pillows at the head of the bed and straddled by her wifeâs weight.
It did help her start to calm down, her heart rate starting to ease back to normal like she was curled up under a weighted blanket. She may have stubbornly wanted to turn her wife away, but sheâd needed this, and they both knew it. She could so easily let herself feel overcome, especially after such a big loss, but she needed to hold it together.
âOkay,â she agreed, her answering smile still tremulous. She lowered her hands to Catraâs hips and looked up at her expectantly, pushing a breath in and out as she nodded. âIâm listening.â
Catra waited until she was sure Adora was fine with this - drinking in every little detail, from the wobble of her lips, her breathing, where her hands ultimately fell. The grip on her hips was a good sign. It always felt like an Iâm keeping you there sort of gesture, grounding and assured.
Then, she took a deep breath. This was going to suck.
âIâve lost you before,â she began, and wasnât that a heavy statement to start out with - this was a territory of hurt she was traipsing in, emotional landmines everywhere. âIâve lost you before and that destroyed me. For a lot of different reasons. I felt like you didnât need me, or want me. I saw you make up your mind and leave with people you barely even knew. Iâd see you come back for them when they needed you.â
Glimmer, captured by Shadow Weaver - hurt by Shadow Weaver. That was a damning moment. Catra had endured an entire childhood of that and she had been told she didnât have to stay to be treated that way, that maybe she shouldnât be so âdisrespectful.â It was old baggage. There werenât any grudges, not anymore - but again, the point was, the whole thing was complicated and a mess of different motives.
âI didnât let myself have other people. Scorpia, Entrapta - even Lonnie and them tried when you left. But I shut down and spiraled and thatâs on me. I didnât know how to need people outside of you. I didnât think I could trust anyone after you. And thatâs - fucked, you know? Thatâs also not your fault. I wasnât your responsibility. You couldnât control how I dealt with things then, and you canât control how I deal with things in caseâŠâ
You do disappear. Those were words she had trouble forming. A tear managed to slip out like the wet bastard traitor it was, and she wiped her cheek hurriedly. Catra did her best to keep her voice solid for the next part, no breaks or cracks or quivering but that probably wouldnât hold up long. âShutting people out and losing my shit never did me any good. And it would hurt, but if something happened and I was left behind I know itâs not because you wanted to leave me or didnât love me. Iâd still have Spirit and Melog and Ivy. I have friends, somehow.â Sorry, she had to laugh at that part a little. âI would bide my time until this place fucked me off back to you on Etheria, or I would just⊠wait for you to come back to me.â
Catra would always wait for her. That was never going to be a question.
âSo Iâll be okay. I would hate it - but Iâll be okay, I promise.â
The second she heard the words âIâve lost you beforeâ, Adora had to fight the instinct to shut down. She wasnât coming from a high-and-mighty place asking Catra not to do that if she disappeared; she was speaking from experience, because she knew they were the same way. She may be better able to control herself, but she folded inward and punched things when she was hurting or angry or â really, any intense emotion. And this was treading their Greatest Hits territory in the worst way.
Sheâd fucked up. Not just by leaving the Horde but a million times before that and a million times after. She hadnât fought for Catra hard enough. She had broken their promise. She had betrayed the only person sheâd loved for so long in such a deeply fucked up way that sometimes, she still stayed up nights wondering how theyâd gotten to where they were. Catra should rightly hate her for the rest of their lives. Sheâd deserve it.
Her hands tightened on Catraâs hips, and there was no fighting back the tears that fell freely down her cheeks now. But she didnât shut down. She didnât turn away. She didnât nudge Catra off her so she could run away and beat herself up for even bringing these thoughts to the surface. She stayed, listened, watched Catra try to hold herself together, too. This wasnât an easy topic â so much of their lives werenât â but she was soldiering through, and Adora could do the same.
By the time she was through, Adora was torn between aching sadness and pride. Catra really had come so far. She had seen where sheâd gone wrong and was resolved to fix it, without putting any blame on Adora. It was amazing, and admirable, and Adora loved her all the more for it, even if the thought of Catra being here without her was heartbreaking.
âYou better be,â was what she finally managed to reply, her voice hoarse and trembling as more tears fell. âIâm sorry. Itâs notâ I donât even wanna think about being without you, but I didnât ever think weâd be without Richie either, and I justâŠâ
She threw her hands up, letting out this sound that was half frustrated groan and half sob before pressing them tightly to her face. Why was she always such a freaking mess?!
âHey, hey,â she said in hushed tones, her heart breaking into pieces at how much she was crying now but there was nothing about this conversation that was pleasant. It was bittersweet at best, and the difficulty was why she had wanted to so badly shelve it for later and let it be a Future Catra problem (she needed to stop doing that). But what the hell, right? Get all the feelings out when they were in it so it would stop looming over them.
Catra gave her a moment to cry before reaching for those hands, gently but firmly prying them off her face - and hopefully she wouldnât be against getting her wrists pinned onto the bed, lovingly. âIf I somehow bow out of here without you, you are going to be fine,â she went on to sternly say, nevermind the choked words. âYouâll have Spirit to take care of, too. And Ivy. You have to make sure Swift Wind doesnât unleash a great evil for the sake of freeing his brethren. Youâll have our friends, and like - an entire phone album of sexy selfies from yours truly, duh.â
Now she was crying, too. Laughing a bit in between. This was ridiculous, and she hated to think about Adora being here by herself - because contrary to what she used to think, Adora did need her. âYouâll either come back to me, or Iâll give the middle finger to every metaphysical law that keeps us separated and claw my way here to you again. Somehow. Just - gods, please, donât eat every single weed brownie you get your hands on.â
A laugh burst out of Adora before she knew what was happening. She didnât stop crying â the tears still fell in what had to be buckets â but the sobbing was choked off by a laugh instead. It was a weird feeling but in a very good way. It lifted her spirits in a way sheâd desperately needed and split her face with a smile.
âI canât even make weed brownies anymore! I always made them with Richie!â She was giggle-snorting through it, even if the sentiment was inherently a little sad. She could likely make them on her own, and there were bound to be plenty of places out there she could buy a batch if she didnât want to take that risk (and given her relationship with the kitchen, she did not). But it had been their thing â another level to their bonding beyond just their twice-weekly runs with Spirit.
Was she losing her mind? She felt like she was losing her mind. That had been such a wild swing of emotions, and she wasnât done. By the time the laughing died down, she was just somber, flexing her hands in Catraâs grip and looking up at her with soaked cheeks and shiny red eyes. âI miss him already,â she whispered, her jaw clenching tightly. âI canât believe heâs gone.â
Laughing, albeit brief, was a good sign. It didnât mean they were cured and had happiness radiating out of their ass but Richie would have wanted something like this - aside from bartending the dude was a professional comedian, he liked the funny shit. Loved laughter, loved making people laugh. He was ridiculous and warm and had the dorkiest grin.
Catraâs hands went up her wrists and she locked their fingers together, and having them occupied was inconvenient when her face was leaking too but she just - turned her head, rubbed her cheeks the best she could into her shoulders to make herself look less blubbery. âI know,â she sniffed. âHe taught me how to use emojis and the stupid gifs and gave me advice about you when all we were doing was sucking face and not talking about it. Made me my first fucking cocktail when I showed up here and it was snowing.â
Hard to forget. He and Dan were nice to her - and she was very suspicious of strangers just being nice for the hell of it. But Richie had been persistent with her too, never really backing down despite the claws and fangs she liked to show off in defense.
âTold you.â Catra smirked through the tears. âMaking friends is a scam.â
Adora didnât like seeing Catra crying anymore than Catra liked seeing her crying. She untangled their fingers to push herself back into a sitting position and lean back against the headboard before taking Catra into her arms. Her lap was freely available now, and she wrapped Catra up into her arms, tucking her head into her shoulder.
âMaking friends is a scam,â she echoed, nudging their foreheads together. âThankfully, I donât do much of it these days.â She was kidding, kind of. She had been a bit less outgoing lately. It was partly circumstantial (hit after hit after hit), but it was also partly a stress-reducer. She tended to get less overwhelmed when she only had her core group of people to worry about.
Funny how Catra had become the real social butterfly of the two of them. It suited her, and Adora was proud of her.
Catra had a feeling Adora wouldnât let her keep her pinned for long. They always ended up like this, her wife feeling as if she had to wrap her up protectively and it turns out Catra just fit pretty perfectly on her lap like this. No protest given - ever. It was a comfort for the both of them.
Her own arms wound up around her too, claws snagging the fabric of her shirt like she was making sure to hook into her in the scenario where someone - something - tried taking her away. âIf you knew thatâŠâ she bit down on her lip, thinking. âIf you knew that Vallo was gonna take one of us away tomorrow - what would you do today?â
Adora hummed, dragging her fingernails gently down the back of Catraâs shirt. There were so many things she could think of that she still wanted to do if this was the last chance she got here (and who knew â it could be). But it didnât take long for her thoughts to land on one particular memory that made her smile, slow and a little shy but genuine and free of waterworks.
âYou remember our first official date?â she asked. She hoped so. They had a lot of wonderful memories theyâd made together in Vallo, but that date was one of her favorites. It had been the fruits of her obsessive need to plan something perfect, something official â even though theyâd been together over a month at that point and intimate even longer.
And it had been a fun day. The two of them in the park, chasing after each other with nerf guns, then sharing the finger foods Adora had ordered to stuff into a picnic basket, blanket and all. Sheâd lost their nerf battle and literally fed Catra half a carton of barbeque meatballs by hand. It truly was perfect. And it was one of her happiest Vallo memories she could think of.
(That had also been the settling of the quiche/quickie mix-up, but they didnât need to talk about that.)
âIâd recreate that. Every part of it. Even the feeling, you know? When everything didnât seem soâŠintense. Vallo still sort of felt like a vacation back then.â
Hah, of course. How could she forget the very intricate, full-scale live Pinterest board she had stumbled upon in one of the other rooms. It was very detailed, with pictures of possible locations, what were the most portable foods, what material made best for an outdoor blanket, picnic baskets. It was insane.
But also, really, the best. Adora was determined to consider every detail - right down to the nerf guns. It was the sweetest, cutest, most Adora thing. How could she not smile about it? Because she was - a small curve of her lips, fondness shining in her eyes.
âThatâs when I told you I wanted to grow old and gray with you,â she chuckled, the sound of it hoarse - sandpaper in her throat. Catra nuzzled into the side of her face. âYou were so surprised like the dummy you are. But I think my favorite part of it was the quickie on the menu, you were delicious.â
She was one hundred percent talking about it, not sorry.
Adoraâs heart flipped in her chest and a smile immediately followed. Maybe it was silly that her heart still did acrobatics every time Catra got all sweet on her. They were married now, and it was no surprise she wanted to grow old with her. But it made her want to melt every single time nevertheless.
âMy quickies are pretty awesome,â she agreed, deciding to play into it with a salacious grin this time around. It had been a little embarrassing at the time, but Catra had very gently corrected her and sheâd made an effort not to say things out loud without trying out that Google speech thing first from there on out.
âWe should do that,â she declared a moment later. She looked into blue and gold eyes, her own widening after a few secondsâ pause made her realize how that sounded. âNot the quickie. I mean, not right now, but maybe later.â She fell silent, picturing that âmaybe laterâ for a moment before shaking her head and circling back to her original point. âThe date, though. We should go out and do that. Richie wouldnât want us here justâŠfeeling awful.â
The grin, the widening of eyes - Catra knew exactly how the gears turned in her wifeâs head, it was adorable. She could spend the entire day staring at her like this. Pupils wide because this was the object of her affections, a subdued but content purr beginning to kick up. Richieâs name being dropped resurrected this sting in her chest, the kind that persisted to her throat and that was probably going to be happening a lot today.
And tomorrow, the day after, weeks from now. Months, maybe.
âLike - now?â she inquired, raising an eyebrow. It was admittedly going to take a lot for Catra to get up and want to move around, but maybe she could be spurred into motivation. âFeeling awful right now has me pretty comfortable, though I guess⊠I get your point.â
Adoraâs brows furrowed. That was a fair point. She was comfortable, too, and she probably wasnât really up for going out in public just yet. She was trying to lean into her more optimistic side, but there was no saying how long that would hold up. She could see it in Catra, too, the way her expression shifted the smallest bit when she mentioned Richie again.
Still, she stood by her point. Richie wouldnât want them moping around for him like this, and she needed just a few moments of something fun, something she knew would make him (and them) laugh.
âGive me just a minute.â She gave Catra a kiss and shifted her off her lap, scrambling past a perturbed looking Spirit and nearly stepping on Abby sprawled out on the floor where she couldnât see. She reached down to give her quick, apologetic pets before disappearing out their bedroom doors.
When she returned, maybe ninety seconds later, she stood at the foot of the bed and held two very familiar weapons in her hands and wore a big, triumphant, blindingly bright smile. Sheâd stowed the nerf guns in one of the gymâs closets ages ago, and theyâd rarely taken the opportunity to use them since that big date. Now, though, seemed like it could be a pretty ideal time, maybe a break in the sadness they needed.
âWhat do you think?â she asked, trying her best to temper the hopeful edge in her voice.
Alright, being deprived of lap privileges was the worst but she could admit that she was intrigued by - whatever Adora went to get. Which had been revealed shortly, the toy guns a sight to behold because they were that mature. Catra had curled up into a ball in her absence, eyes blinking wide and ears twitching as she detected the sound of movement at a distance.
Now, she couldnât help but grin too.
âI think you want me to kick your ass.â Catra did a final wipe of hands over her face to dry off her cheeks. âOkay, fine. Letâs do it. But weâre picking up food at the grocery store because Iâm not in the mood to make anything. And Iâm, like - buying ten boxes of fruity pebbles.â
That ridiculous fried chicken recipe was their thing. She had no intentions of making it any time soon, but the cereal was still a comfort to have.
âWeeeeell,â Adora went on to clarify. âWe can still go out, but I was thinking we could just shoot each other with nerf guns in the privacy of our own spaceship?â
She was more than willing to go out if Catra was truly up for it, but her intention had been to find a middleground for them. Here, they could lapse into a pile of sadness again whenever they needed to, but the blasters still added some very much needed lightness to the mood.
Catra thought about it for two whole ass seconds.
âYep, like that better,â she concurred with a casual shrug, untwisting herself from her position to crawl towards the end of the bed. âStill stand by needing ten boxes of fruity pebbles in the very near future, buuuuutâŠâ
One of the plastic guns was grabbed for herself. She checked it, made sure it was equipped with the foam ammo that had the stupid sunction cups on it (she was going to aim for Adoraâs forehead, mark her words) and then cocked the mouth of it into her wifeâs chin. âYouâre on babe.â