Future Log: Catradora - Part 1 of 2 WHO: Catra & Adora WHAT: Catra tells Adora she's going to fight + Finn time WHERE: Darla WHEN: April 5th, 2033 WARNINGS: Talk of death, grief, depression, etc. STATUS: Complete NOTES: Y'all, this was so huge I couldn't do the fancy code and had to split it in two. Godspeed if you read it all.
They let Finn play outside today.
Supervised, of course. Catra and Adora were out there with them, having mastered the balance between staying vigilant while enjoying themselves. The air was warm with a crisp breeze. Sunshine came through the leaves and branches, giving them little spots of light to bask under. Finn climbed trees; jumped from one branch to another, zig-zagged around while being chased by their moms. It wasn’t any less dangerous outdoors right now than it was before.
But this time, there was hope – a flame of it now, not embers that tried to stay alight from the ashes. The time traveling spell worked. There was a breakthrough, a plan. If they did this right, they could win. They could put an end to this nightmare once and for all. Rebuild Vallo. Have a future that was more than surviving and fighting and losing the people you knew in all sorts of fucked up, horrid ways.
They could send Finn off to school without worrying it would be overrun by thralls.
They could have Darla at full-power again. Shops could re-open. They could get actual groceries again to stock up the cupboards, and Finn could have normal things – like candy, and video games, and a playground where they could play with their friends. Ice cream dates. Trips to the movies and laser tag and carnival rides. If things were restored? Getting there wouldn’t take long. Not with magic or science that actually had the resources for great accomplishments.
Picturing it was all Catra could do. She couldn’t stop. She played outside like the world around them wasn’t in shambles, kissed her wife like it was any normal day. Nothing hurried or desperate – they were lazy and sweet, as if they’d have all the time in the world to kiss like that. Finn would roll their eyes at them but, well, allowed it. Today was nice. It was a reprieve from all the heartache; from losing Adam, from seeing Teela struggle, the way Kara would force her smiles, how Dare clung too tight to his mom, how Theo and Lori were still adjusting to having the one parent.
It was also a reminder of everything they still had to fight for. Of everything Catra was choosing to fight for, but that hadn’t come up in conversation quite yet. Adora didn’t know. Finn didn’t know. It was a storm that quietly brewed inside her, and she did her best to keep her body from giving away these little ticks that always gave her away. Keep the tail calm. Keep the ears up, not lowered, not pulled back. The purrs that spelled out uncertainty were swallowed.
How do you tell your family that you’re going to join the battle, knowing that you might not come out of it alive? That you might be the next one added to their list of people they lost?
“I hate how you’re better at this than I am,” Finn huffed, throwing their arms up in surrender. Their day was winding down, and before the sun was fully set, they were attempting to carve some doodles into a tree trunk next to Darla – with their claws. “Drawing smiley faces is hard on tree bark!”
But Catra – she was patient with it, carving out something they were all familiar with. Doodles of their faces in a simplistic cartoon-style. Of hers, of Adora’s, of Finn’s. It was cutesy but deeply sentimental, and she liked the idea of permanently carving that image in the environment they lived in. “You and your mama,” she smirked, adding the finishing touches with digs and swipes of her actual claws, “are so impatient when it comes to trying things out. You guys always expect it to be perfect and easy on the first try.”
“That’s the way it should be.”
It was Catra’s turn to roll her eyes. One last little line to finish up a spike in Finn’s hair, she unfurled from the crouched position and stepped back to view her work. For what it was, it was perfect. “Opinions?”
Finn pouted next to Adora. “It’s fine, I guess.”
Adora chuckled, wrapping her arm around Finn and pulling them into her side. Catra was right – this kind of frustration, this expectation of nailing everything in one go, was all her. She’d gotten better over the years. She’d learned to accept that practice was necessary and good when it came to tasks she was unfamiliar with. But it had taken her far too many years to learn that lesson.
Finn would learn the same eventually. Without a Shadow Weaver of their own breathing down their neck, expecting unachievable perfection in every facet of their life, hopefully it would be something they learned much more kindly and easily.
She peered over their kid’s head at her wife’s handiwork and smiled at her. “It’s beautiful, baby.” It had been a good day, a day like what might have been before Interitus, and this was a nice memento of it: their likenesses carved on the tree similarly to the drawings etched onto their bedroom wall. She reached out to snag Catra’s chin and pull her into another kiss, letting it linger sweetly.
They all knew what was coming tomorrow. The adults, anyway; the kids knew only what they were told, and they were still young enough that keeping them out of the loop was better for everyone. They only knew the world the way it was, and while part of Adora wanted to give them hope of what it could be if this time traveling plan really worked, she was still hesitant to give herself that hope.
The big battle was tomorrow, on both ends of the timeline. If it worked, then they’d broach the subject of a whole new world with the kids. In the meantime, it was nice to just have a quiet, peaceful day.
“You know what I want right now? S’mores.” The smile that followed was a little wistful; chocolate especially was hard to come by these days. “Don’t we have a bag of marshmallows?”
“We do?” Finn blinked owlishly, tail straightening in alarm. “Do you guys hide the good stuff from us? I bet you do, and I bet you have chocolate somewhere –”
“Bet you can’t find it,” Catra challenged them, hands on her hips as she smirked down at their little person. They had all the strong parts of her and Adora’s personalities – the stubbornness, the sass. It could be annoying sometimes, but god wasn’t she also teeming with pride about it. “Unless you wanna prove us wrong?”
“Bet I can,” they shot back, hands on their hips.
“Go then. Mama wants s’mores. Let’s see what we can get done for her, yeah?”
Finn threw their arms around Adora’s waist, sticking their tongue out. “Fine, but only because I don’t want to keep watching you guys do the kissing thing. You’re gross.”
“Did you hear that?” Adora laughed, looking at her wife. “We’re gross, how awful.” She ruffled Finn’s blonde mane, then swatted at their backside to shoo them off inside. She really did want those marshmallows, and if Finn came back with chocolate, too, all the better. “Get out of here, you little drama queen. Better get to searching.”
She turned to watch as Finn scampered back up Darla’s ramp and back into the ship with a smile. They had gotten lucky – even in this world, Finn was a good, sweet kid. They’d gotten the best parts of both of them, and it was nice to see them feeling happy. She knew her anxieties could bleed over to them on occasion, and she never wanted to make them hurt like that. She was always glad to give them a carefree day.
She stepped up to Catra as Finn disappeared, looping her arms around her neck and leaning in to kiss her again. She felt a little carefree today, too – not an easy feat with how recent Adam’s death was, with her uncertainty and fears about the plan involving the time travelers. They planned to engage Interitus in battle tomorrow, hoping they had enough power now to take him down once and for all, and Adora was a bit terrified it would all blow up in their faces.
Not that it could get any worse than the end of all existence.
Now, it was nice not to worry. It was nice to feel a little light. “I love you,” she murmured, stroking across Catra’s shoulders. “I had fun today.”
“I could tell,” Catra smirked, hands smoothing down her sides and settling on her hips – good place to grip to pull her closer, too. Finn had sped off to go on a wild hunt of fabled foods so that’d keep them occupied enough while their moms did the kissing thing. Which she did, by the way, no shame about it. A soft press lips, a thumb gently rubbing into her hip bone. “Love you too, princess.”
Adora seemed better today.
Not in that fake way that Catra faced these past few years. There was a front she liked to put on for everyone else; their friends, their family, the kids, sometimes even her. It didn’t hide the exhaustion. That was a look everyone wore, and exhaustion wasn’t a secret. The lack of hope wasn’t much of one either.
It was what that lack of hope was doing to her. It was the losses, the disconnect, the self-deprecation. I’m sorry I’m… this. Catra remembered those words. She remembered hearing the guilt in them. The shame.
It worsened with time. Catra saw it happen. She tried to stop it. When she realized she couldn’t, she tried to slow it. She tried, and tried, and just – tried.
Today was good.
But days like this also don't happen often anymore. It hurt knowing she was on the precipice of ruining it.
Catra had their noses touch – and even rub a little, an eskmo kiss – before she nuzzled into Adora’s cheek. She scented her there. Kissed her, too, the softest sound of purrs bubbling from her chest.
Then, she pressed her lips to her ear and quietly said, “I’m going to the Outpost tonight.”
The good days weren’t completely gone. They were rare, Adora would admit that, but they weren’t impossible to have. She knew how to put on a good front around most of the people she cared about, knew how to make it seem like she was fine – even when most knew that she wasn’t who she’d once been, that her hope was dead and buried with Melog a long time ago. She could still be fine, accepting of their circumstances.
There was no way out. She truly believed that, and it was a struggle to think otherwise at this point in her life. They would survive until they inevitably didn’t, and that was all there was to it.
Today, she wasn’t thinking those thoughts. Today, she felt content. Her wife was in her arms, kissing her and purring and melting into her like they were a decade younger, happy in the most innocent way two war veterans could be, and she was good.
Then Catra leaned in, and she spoke, and Adora went stock still.
For a long moment, she thought she hadn’t heard right. Her brows furrowed as the words slowly sunk into her brain, but the second they did, she snapped back. She stared at Catra, open-mouthed before she pulled her jaw tight, and her expression went from confusion to anger, fear gripping her heart like an icy hand.
“No.” It wasn’t disbelieving. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even a request. It was a command, one she repeated much more emphatically barely a second later. “No. You’re not going anywhere tonight. Finn’s inside, and we’re going in after them. We’ll pull out a puzzle or something.”
“I’m going to the Outpost tonight,” she repeated, still quiet, still – soft. Her flesh hand abandoned her waist to tuck some of Adora’s hair behind her ear. She traced the edges of it, then moved her fingertips to touch the scarred skin beneath her cloudy eye. Beautiful, and no one in the multiverse could ever change her mind about it.
There wasn’t a ‘good time’ to tell her this. Catra knew her wife wouldn’t just passively accept this decision – this decision she had made on her own, without consulting her, which they didn’t do. They made decisions together; as a team, as partners. It had always been Adora who ran with things like a dog with a bone, and it had always been Catra who had to remind her to include her in the process.
They had gotten better about it over the years. This moment was not a shining example of that progress.
“Once Finn goes to bed,” Catra told her, taking a deep breath, “Clawdeen’s taking me. She’ll come back afterwards.”
“No.” Adora shook her head. “No way.” There was an angry part of her that wanted to pull away from Catra’s touch, but she couldn’t bear to do that, not even now. If anything, she leaned in closer, emotion welling in her chest and making her throat feel tight. “No, you don’t get to make that call yourself, Catra. No.”
She couldn’t let her go. She wouldn’t. She knew this battle had to be fought, and she wouldn’t argue it. The wizards and the higher ups, Kara included, seemed to think this was the right path and that they might actually win. That was fine, and if it worked, like she’d told Keith, she would happily eat her less-than-positive words on the whole matter.
That did not mean she was okay with her wife joining in. They could lose this battle easily, get soundly thumped like, honestly, they usually were when they went up against Interitus and his forces. He was threatening a final end, and even if they thwarted that, truly killing him felt like wishful thinking.
Best case scenario, they kept going as they had been, surviving but not thriving. People would still die. People would still become thralls. They’d lost enough people to both of those fates for Adora to just nod, smile, and say sure, honey, come back safe and put Catra’s safety at risk like that.
If it meant she had to fight her own wife, to convince her that this wasn’t a chance she needed to take, then that’s what she’d do.
Stroking Adora’s cheek easily became holding her cheek, and Catra made no movements to step away for the sake of giving her space. “It’s the last chance we’ve got, you know that,” she said in hushed whispers, voice cracking around the words. The way her wife was looking at her almost made her want to backpedal, and take back the decision and just say hahaha, kidding.
But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Not when their friends were putting down their lives to try and make things right again too.
“I promised a long time ago to give you the life you wanted,” Catra continued, recovering with a little more confidence. It took a sniff and another deep breath for her voice to settle into something less heartbreaking. “I promised Finn before they were even born that they would have a better life than we did growing up. And I’m just–really tired of this place making a liar out of me, Adora. I want to fight.”
Catra let her hand drop from her face.
“I’m not asking for permission.”
That was just it – it’s the last chance we’ve got. It was a chance, not a guarantee. This could very well be their last night existing, and Catra wanted to leave? After the day they’d just had, filled with goodness and lightness, without the weight of worries on their shoulders for once? It was a miracle Adora had even been able to let go for this long; maybe it was because she knew there was nothing left to worry about, that if they died, at least they died all together, a family.
“None of this is your fault, Catra,” she pleaded, reaching for her hand to hold it again, twining their fingers together and squeezing tight. “None of it’s on you. Me… the way I’ve been… it’s not on you. Please don’t leave me now. Don’t leave Finn now.”
This life hadn’t turned out how they’d hoped. There was no disputing that. The past decade had been strewn with strife, fear, guilt, endless fighting, loss. The past five, for Adora, had been a trudge, that flicker of hope finally snuffed out and leaving a tiny void in her chest that she couldn’t completely fill. But her family kept her going. Her family kept her alive and working to stay comfortable. She wasn’t prepared to lose that any earlier than she had to.
“This isn’t me leaving either of you,” Catra protested with a hiss because–fuck, did she really have to word it like that? It killed her. It killed her to feel like she was leaving them behind, like this was some careless choice she made. “This is me fighting for you. For both of you, because we can’t just…”
She took that hand, squeezing back. Part of her wanted to step away and take a breath. Most of her wanted to stay and not let go. So she stayed, and held hands, and splayed her metal one against the small of her back. Funny how they can manage physical intimacy despite this disagreement — but they’ve had practice. This was a dance they knew.
“If we’re dying, I’m not dying quietly,” she tacked on, narrowing her eyes. “I’m going to give all the hell I have if it gets us even a little bit closer to finishing this. Because this place, and everything, it’s been… killing you, Adora. Not violently. Not abruptly. Slowly, though. I’ve seen it happen before and it’s not your fault, it’s not you. But I stepped up to fight for you last time, and I’m going to do it every damn chance I get.”
Catra knocked their foreheads together.
“I look out for you, remember?”
Adora knew she couldn’t disagree. Watching Vallo fall apart around them, fighting for a future that seemed more and more impossible to achieve by the day, it was killing her. So much of the person she’d once been was gone now, not just physically. She knew that. She hated it. She hated seeing her wife, the best part of her life no matter how broken it was, shouldering so much.
She hadn’t realized that meant it would come to this. She knew so much of the emotional burden they typically shared had fallen on Catra, but maybe she hadn’t truly seen the toll it had taken on her, too. If she felt fighting was the only way she could make Adora better, then she had failed her. Again.
Her free hand rose to Catra’s jaw, skimming across the sharp lines. “I don’t want you to fight,” she insisted, her voice wavering but not breaking as she clung to her wife. “I don’t need you to fight. I need you to be here, safe with me, whatever way this goes. Please, please don’t put your life on the line for a plan that might not work.”
That’s when her voice finally broke, cracking at the end of her sentence. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she didn’t have the willpower to keep them from falling. Her heart ached in her chest, full of sharp pains – fear, and panic, and a despair that made her feel hollowed out inside.
“Just stay with me, okay?” Anguish bled into every shaky word she whispered. “Stay. Be with us. Live or die, don’t leave us.”
There was that crack in her resolve again. Pieces of it crumbled, and she looked almost panicked. Adora had never begged like this before. Not even when she was under Prime’s control, although that recollection had gotten fuzzier through the years; she remembered the urgency, the grief, the determination to bring her back home.
She even remembered Adora screaming her name through the Whispering Woods, claiming she needed her while being so ready to die.
But to beg, like this–
Is this how Adora felt when she thought she had no choice but to fight? Did Catra sound that heartbroken when she asked her to stay? The realization of the role reversal was as if someone dumped ice water on her, and this gut-wrenching deja vu made her breath stutter. This wasn’t supposed to happen again. They’d fought so hard to not be in this situation a second time. Now they had Finn, and it wasn’t fair.
She almost relented. She almost took it back. It wasn’t as if she was some chosen one with a destiny meant to fight this battle. She could be with her wife and child no matter the consequence; win or lose, life or death. Catra could stay.
Adora’s face had both her hands now, thumbs tenderly swiping at her cheeks to dry them. “I’m going to fight,” Catra repeated quietly but fiercely, breaking her own heart. “I choose you and Finn by not giving up on a life with you. I can’t let it go, Adora. I won’t.”
And if it went south, well - that fucker of Interitus had go to through her before he got to her family.
For a moment, it felt like Catra would give in. Even through tears clouding her one good eye, Adora could see her starting to panic, starting to reconsider. But then she saw her stand firm. She saw her collect herself and make a decision (not the decision Adora wanted her to make) and insist again that she was going to fight. She was leaving them, and even though it was for the most selfless of reasons, Adora couldn’t take it.
She felt helpless. She felt unheard. Was that what it had been like, all those years Adora had made the same damn decision? Was this how Catra had felt, watching her run into battle after battle? Was it how she’d felt at the Heart, all those years ago?
Vindictive thoughts lurked in the back of her mind. She could pull away, tell her to go, tell her she would never forgive her for this. But that wasn’t fair or right, and gods, the regrets she’d have. As much as she hated the decision Catra was making, she had to recognize that a decade ago, she’d have done the same thing, no hesitations. Their positions could so easily be reversed. She was furious, and her heart felt like it had finally, finally shattered into pieces after years of being held together by tape and glue, but she couldn’t be a hypocrite. She couldn’t be cruel.
She couldn’t speak either. A million words ran through her head, but none of them could come out among the sobs that wracked through her. Instead, her arms wrapped tight around her wife’s back, hands knotting in her shirt, holding onto her with absolute terror at the prospect of letting her go.
Catra didn’t hesitate to hold her. She needed it. Claws digging into her back, tail wrapped around her leg, face buried into the side of her neck. She worried Adora would pull away from her and just shut down. There was a chance she still might. There were moments – gods, several moments – throughout the years where Adora would be there, next to her, breathing, and Catra would still somehow feel so alone.
Adora would disconnect. Check out of the moment. She’d drown in her thoughts and keep the grief to herself, like she’d be a burden if she let herself feel – like it didn’t matter, because other things might matter more. Then Adam died, and it got worse.
“The plan’s going to work,” she told her, promised her in every way but the actual verbiage itself, letting Adora cry against her. “I’m coming back–and if you want me to sleep on the couch for a while because you’re mad at me, that’s fine.” Catra swallowed down all the heartache, all the fear, and combed her claws down her hair. “But once things are back up and running again, we’re going to get ice cream. Buckets of it. We’re going to eat it and get sick together and throw it back up like a family. Because it’s going to work.”
Catra kissed her ear, her cheek, her neck. Anywhere her lips could reach, she kissed. She just didn’t realize that, at some point, she started crying too.
The moment Adora felt hot tears falling onto her neck, tears she knew weren’t her own, her heart skipped a beat. She had always hated when Catra was sad. She was supposed to make her happy, to make her smile, to make her forget the bad parts of life, even if it was only for a little while. It had worked wonders for them both, sharing that responsibility over the years. She had fallen down on the job a long time ago, and Catra deserved a better version of her than she’d gotten.
Catra needed Adora to be brave for her, so this time, she would do the best she could, no matter how many times her mind wandered down a million more negative paths. She tried to summon that up now, taking a breath in and pushing it slowly out through her nose. She raised a hand to stroke down Catra’s mane of dark hair and pressed a tender kiss to her wife’s forehead.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay, baby.” She wasn’t sure she believed it, not entirely. The picture Catra painted, beautiful as it may be, felt like a fantasy, an idea so far removed from the reality they lived in that it was hard to imagine they’d ever find their way back to it, even in the best of best case scenarios. But, if only for her own selfish purposes, she wanted to believe it. She wanted to hope her wife wasn’t signing her up for sure death.
“I’m never putting you on the couch,” she assured her, tucking Catra’s head under her chin and tightening her grip around her back. “You know I can’t sleep without you.” She would be up all night tonight for that very reason – too worried, too petrified, to let her guard down for even a second.
“It’s just for tonight,” Catra sniffed, so sure of it in a way that felt a little delusional but – if she went into this whole thing thinking she’d die anyway, then she might as well already be dead. She buried her nose into the hollow of her throat, and her hands went to her back again but this time, under her shirt.
Soft skin, toned muscle, scars; old ones, new ones. She knew all of them. She had caused some of them. It was all part of their story, and right now Catra just wanted to feel more of her. She wanted to feel closer.
Her eyes fell shut for a moment, and she continued. “Do you remember when…” A small, wet laugh. “Shit, it must be almost exactly ten years at this point. I was pregnant, and you were rubbing my feet, and you told me that thing about how you choose to dedicate yourself to the person you’re committed to every morning–and it’s like marrying them all over again? I did the math recently.”
Catra sniffed again, and when she opened her eyes, she tilted her head back up to look at her. “I’ve married you over four thousand times, princess.”
Adora’s mouth quivered, shifting quickly into a tremulous smile. “I remember,” she breathed. Sometimes, those days felt like they’d happened centuries ago; sometimes, she remembered like they were yesterday. On bad days, she lived in them like they could take her away from the depression that plagued her.
This specific one – she could remember it vividly, how Catra had looked up at her with those stunned, mismatched eyes when she let that tidbit slip. It had been true then, and it was true now. Every day, she chose Catra, over everything and anything else. The most amazing part, though, was that Catra kept choosing her.
“Four thousand,” Adora murmured, leaning down to brush a kiss across the freckled bridge of her wife’s nose, “doesn’t feel like enough.” She pressed their foreheads together, inhaling the scent of the woods clinging to her wife’s skin. “I want four thousand more. Forty thousand more. Promise me?”
Catra laughed again. It was scratchy, a little squeaky thanks to the kiss on the nose and the whole forty thousand days part. Basic math told her that was going to be a ridiculous number year-wise but she didn’t care. It sounded perfect.
She wanted an impossible amount of days with Adora. An impossible amount of years. She wasn’t letting anything take it from her.
“Promise,” she choked out, but she was smiling back at her. Catra was purring. They were happy. They were a little anxious. They were honest, at least. She wasn’t going to hide them. “Forty thousand days, or closest to it. Definitely more than four thousand.”
Adora leaned down and sealed her lips to Catra’s once more, letting the kiss linger tenderly. The hand in Catra’s hair pulled forward to cup her cheek again, drifting up to stroke that sensitive spot just beneath her ear. She broke the kiss but kept their foreheads pressed together again, enjoying Catra’s purrs rumbling against her body. They weren’t perfect, but they were happy enough, and she reveled in them.
She sucked her bottom lip for a moment before she let her gaze meet Catra’s again. “I don’t want you to fight,” she said again, “but you let me fight so many times when you didn’t want me to. So, if you really feel like you have to do this, I won’t stop you.”
She still wished Catra wouldn’t go. She wished she could beg and plead until she gave in. She wondered if maybe she could talk her into staying home another way. Maybe she could create some sort of physical block or lock Darla down. She could say something in front of Finn, but no – that one was a step too far.
In the end, she just needed to accept that, this time, she didn’t get a say.
It was the worst feeling.
“If this all goes right, and Vallo goes back to…being Vallo, maybe we’ll get that second wedding someday. Remember, like we used to talk about with Finn when they were little? They deserve a cake made with real sugar.”
Catra’s laugh died down into a chuckle. Her hands got comfortable against her lower back, and she began to sway their bodies a little like there was some slow song in the background to move to. “‘Course I do,” she huffed fondly. “But it’ll be just us – I love you, and as beautiful as our wedding was, I don't need you to be a bridezilla a second time.”
She was poking very lovingly at that memory; the makeshift pinterest board in Finn’s room before Finn had even been conceived, the flailing and the almost flopping uselessly to the floor. Those were simpler times. And, gods, she missed those.
“And when this all goes right,” she echoed with a correction, her brain almost veering into a dreadful territory (if it doesn’t, know that I don’t regret a single thing with you) but she chose to focus on the hope instead, “I get to be a pillow princess and you can rail me into next week because I’m going to go I told you so so fucking hard, you’re going to want to shut me up.”
Did she want to make Adora laugh? Yes. Did she absolutely mean what she was saying? Yes.
Gods, their wedding was another one of those memories that felt like it had happened ages ago and just yesterday all at once. It had been beautiful, and that was all because Catra had reeled her in after she’d worked herself into a tizzy trying to put in too many details and perfect every one of them.
If they got the chance to have another, she was on board with something small. Something memorable just for their little family. There would be pieces missing – even on the off chance they claimed victory, her brother was still gone. Her mom, her dad, they wouldn’t be here. It would be enough, though. And it would make Finn and Catra smile, that was all she ever wanted.
That last line had its desired effect: Adora laughed, nodding her approval. “Deal,” she agreed. “But I never want you to shut up. If this works and we really do make it through, give me all the ‘I told you so’ you’ve got in you. I’d deserve it.”
“Deal,” Catra said immediately. The chance to drown her in I told you so’s — gods, it existed. She knew it did. She’d chant that phrase forever just to be a shit. And even if the possibility of it not working and all of them dying clung, and even if the possibility that they won and she died anyway existed (but if it helped give Adora and Finn a chance at something more, something better, could she even be upset about it?), she wouldn’t dwell.
She was going to concern herself with the now. For Finn, for Adora. Fighting for Finn and Adora. So she drew her in for a kiss, lips softly slotting together for what might be several, several moments, because right now they had the time. Catra wanted to enjoy the feel of her like this; familiar and warm and still hers, all hers.
Then, with their lips barely parted, she murmured, “Let’s go find our baby, yeah?”
“Yeah, let’s do that,” Adora agreed in a whisper, letting her thumb skim down the line of her wife’s jaw. She was reluctant to let her go, and there was no way in hell she would truly let her leave without some obstacles, but right now, they needed to be together. All three of them – their little family, her everything.