ᴄᴀᴛʀᴀ ʀᴀɪɴʙᴏᴡꜰɪꜱᴛ-ᴍᴇᴏᴡᴍᴇᴏᴡ (hisses) wrote in valloic, @ 2020-12-24 23:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, she-ra: adora, she-ra: catra |
WHO: Catra & Adora
WHAT: An emotionally packed conversation between ex-best friends turned enemies turned...friends again, maybe?
WHERE: Adora's apartment at Morningside
WHEN: Tonight because it's a Christmas Miracle or whatever
WARNINGS: Mentions of suicidal thoughts, language, death
STATUS: Complete
Catra thought about avoiding Adora forever. No, seriously. She did. It was stupid, and so fucking immature but she didn’t know how the hell to handle this, how to handle her. Catra should be dead - she was fine throwing everything away if it meant Adora was kept from Horde Prime. It was supposed to be the one good thing she’d ever do in her life; no one would miss her, and it’d be over and done with. The perfect scenario for everyone involved. So why did that not fucking happen? She could blame this whole situation, being transplanted from one universe to this magic-imbued island mixed with every creature that’s ever existed. That was half the problem. The other half was Adora’s declaration that she didn’t follow her instructions and, instead, willingly walked right into the belly of the beast and rescued her from being chipped? And killed, supposedly. Not that she remembered any of it because ‘different timelines’ or whatever, so - that was weird. As if the rift between them wasn’t three years wide already, full of bottomless hurt and broken promises. It’d been days. Enough days for Catra to get her bearings, familiarize herself with what was deemed modern technology and have a basic understanding of the island’s geography. The sprawling city full of combating scents, the surrounding forest that seemed so tempting to get lost in; bits of it were familiar, most were foreign. It was all meant to keep her from obsessing over those network exchanges with Adora, from turning over every word in her head and thinking about every terrible thing she wanted to say to hurt her except - She just couldn’t do it. Not anymore. What the hell was the point of apologizing, then? Why risk it all - for her - if she couldn’t hold one goddamn conversation without tossing blame? Besides, she had questions. Catra couldn’t get them by avoiding her. That was how she found herself outside what was now known as Adora’s apartment, arms crossed over her chest tight after a quick knock of her knuckles against the door. She looked - well, she’s looked better. Now she was maskless, maybe a tad underweight, and there was a redness around those perpetually glowering eyes that came only from an unfortunate lack of solid sleep. The brief catnaps scattered through the day kept her mostly functional, flirting right at the edge of madness. Catra only had herself to blame for that. Adora was completely exhausted. It had been months since she’d gotten a full night’s rest, since losing She-Ra. She was stressed and stretched thin and that led to the rare, required moments of sleep being brief and restless, filled with tossing and turning. Even here, in this new place where she didn’t really have those obligations, she was lucky if she could force herself to sleep two hours with how rapidly her mind was racing. Part of the problem was she didn’t entirely trust this new place. The people who had welcomed her and shown her a video and even given her free money and a place to stay had been helpful, but that didn’t make the situation any easier. She didn’t want to be running around space trying to escape Horde Prime and beat him to Etheria, but she didn’t feel she had much of a choice at this point. Bow and Glimmer, the Princess Alliance, Etheria, the Star Siblings, and countless others were counting on her. Her. It didn’t matter that She-Ra was gone. She was still a Rebellion Commander and she needed to be there and make sure everyone was safe and Prime was defeated. There was some consolation and some comfort in knowing that Catra was here, too. They hadn’t spoken in a bit, but that had been by Adora’s own choice. With this weird timeline difference between them, she knew it was better to let Catra come to her to talk when she was ready. She’d already let some of her frustration spill over in their network exchanges. She wasn’t upset with Catra, but she was disappointed she didn’t remember being rescued. Which was stupid — she could only imagine how traumatic the entire ordeal had been, what Prime had done to her. She should be thrilled Catra couldn’t remember any of that. And she was, obviously. But she had rescued her, damn it. She’d barely been able to think of anything except making sure Catra was safe for weeks, and now they weren’t even on the same page. She was trying not to dwell in it. No easy feat for someone who dwelled in everything. The stressing and stretching thin had continued since she arrived in Vallo. She had been acclimating to the city, exploring every inch of it, expanding into the forest and the mountain ranges and everything else she stumbled across. She’d gotten lost once but thankfully been able to get back to a waypoint. She’d also taken a pretty nasty fall on a cliffside and was a little scraped up. Her hands were the worst; she’d cleaned them and wrapped them up in bandages, but they were still at that point where they ached. She’d returned to attempt a nap about an hour ago and just barely drifted off when the pinging sound she’d come to recognize as a notification on her new phone had gotten her up. Catra wanted to talk. She wasn’t going to turn that down. She’d given Catra had apartment number, then hurried to straighten up and make sure the place was presentable. She took a second to collect herself and adjust her standard ponytail before she answered the knock at the door. “Hey.” She offered Catra a very small smile and stepped aside. “Come on in.” It was kind of strange to see her with her hair still long, but concern overwhelmed that strangeness when she noticed how skinny she looked — almost malnourished. Catra didn’t care for the look of – what was it, pity? – flashing over her eyes. The smile felt out of place. Wrong, even, because Adora didn’t smile at her in a way that indicated any semblance of friendship. Not anymore. It only served to cement the fact that there were these missing moments between them, puzzle pieces that didn’t exist for her because she hadn’t experienced them yet. It was so fucking annoying. There was a moment of pause after her invitation to study her, drink in every detail of her presence to convince herself of their reality. Still in the same uniform she’d been in for years, hands curiously wrapped as if she’d been wounded. Catra’s brows then rose, tail swishing lazily behind her; a mastered look of ease to disguise her restlessness, where she could make herself project a bit of false indifference and dash provocative smugness. Then, her mouth opened, and it all paired so well when she finally said, “Hey Adora.” The inside of her apartment was practically identical to hers, though this one – this one had faint traces of her scent, something she tried her hardest to disassociate with comfort and the feelings of home. She sauntered in with arms still folded, taking the view in as if it were new. In actuality, she was stalling having to make eye contact again. It had to happen, though. Necessary evils and all. “Guess you couldn’t She-Ra your way out of here?” “Not yet,” Adora admitted quietly, cheeks coloring with a bit of shame. It wasn’t for lack of trying. After She-Ra had come back on Prime’s ship, she’d been sure she wouldn’t have any trouble accessing her again. But even with all this magic just existing around them, nothing. It was yet another frustration to add to the list she was amassing. She could stand there awkwardly for a minute, but frankly, she needed to sit. She was sore from all her exploring and hadn’t refreshed herself yet. She gestured toward the couch, raising an eyebrow at Catra. “Wanna sit? And then we can…talk about whatever you want.” No, Catra didn’t want to sit. She was too antsy and could probably endure the conversation standing on her feet. But, sure, fine, whatever – she’d sit. To the couch she went, sticking to the corner end of it with crossed legs, arms resting over her thighs. Her posture could be considered effortlessly casual if it wasn’t for her tail, betraying her with these nerved twitches and flicks. She wanted to ask about her hands, what she did to cause whatever wounds she tried to tend herself – maybe even question as to why she hadn’t healed herself yet. Adora had the magic for that, didn’t she? She had healed Glimmer, Shadow Weaver. Surely she could make some scrapes go away. But she was probably the last person in the universe who had the right to worry about her like that. “Sparkles got to you in one piece, then,” was how she decided to start. Catra hadn’t really doubted it. Adora would do anything these friends of hers - that was the whole point of the stunt she pulled. Give her what she was looking for to keep her from showing up at Horde Prime’s doorstep. Adora sank down on the opposite end of the couch, keeping one full cushion between them. Space. She knew Catra still needed it, even though it went against all her instincts to grant it after all they’d been through — well, all she had been through that Catra didn’t remember. She folded one leg under herself, the other still planted on the floor, her back straight. She didn’t really know how to act or how to handle this situation. But when her eyes flicked over to Catra’s twitching tail, betraying how uncomfortable she was feeling, at least she knew she wasn’t the only one. Starting with Glimmer helped ease some of that tension on her end. “Yeah, we got to her. She was fine last I saw her. Thank you for doing that. I know what a big risk that was for you.” And she knew the consequences that had fallen on her as a result, but she’d bite that knowledge back until prompted. Another twitch of her tail. Catra bit back a snort. The gratitude was unnecessary, and Adora’s restraint in this conversation was as impressive as it was odd. The civility between them was a little uncomfortable. It was neutral grounds, and Catra didn’t do neutral despite her coolness. It was always all or nothing, love or hate. Often, a messy mix of both. “It was my risk to take,” she answered evenly, eyes beginning to narrow. “Not an invitation for you to come to the rescue like I was some damsel waiting for a warrior princess in shining armor.” Okay, so – that was a terrible way to show thanks, she’d admit that. Catra was missing a chunk of memories and didn’t remember much after being shoved on her knees before Prime’s throne, her laughter all gravel and broken glass because he couldn’t get Adora. She wouldn’t come back for her. Prime argued otherwise. And this meant, what – Prime was right? But before she’d delve into that, there was another point she wanted to touch on. “You mentioned Entrapta.” Catra quirked a brow. “How – she’s fine?” Alive, not dead, unlike the guilt and night terrors that haunted her about what she’d done to someone who considered her a friend. Adora knew better than to expect gratitude. She didn’t expect it from a Catra who knew she’d been rescued, and she certainly didn’t expect it from a Catra who didn’t share those memories. There was still a lot unresolved between them, and she had been told to stay away yet charged right in. She didn’t appreciate being sniped at, but she understood it. And unless it escalated, she wasn’t going to comment on it. “Entrapta’s fine,” she confirmed. “She was actually kind of thriving on Beast Island? There was a ton of old First Ones tech there, and you know how she is with tech.” Adora didn’t totally get Entrapta, and tech wasn’t anywhere close to her area of expertise, but her understanding of it was impressive. She had done so much to improve Mara’s thousand-year-old ship; it was back in working order, maybe even better than it had been back then. Catra’s response to that was a hum. Thriving, she says. It wasn’t the description she’d been expecting, and the fact that Entrapta survived didn’t make her any less responsible for the fact that she put her there - but she was relieved that the weirdo had been rescued, and that she was safe. Finally, she was able to exhale a breath she’d been holding tight in her lungs. “I thought he’d kill me for what I did,” she started, looking at everything else but Adora. “That was fine, I mean – I was prepared for it. It didn’t matter.” Catra nibbled on the inside of her cheek before continuing. “I fought off the clones until I couldn’t anymore. I wasn’t going to make killing me that easy, you know? Figured I’d give them hell for a last time. Then he said he had other plans for me, that –” You’d come for me. She didn’t understand why the hell he’d think that. Nor did she understand why he was apparently right about it, either. There was a pause, and she shook her head and switched to a different point. “He tossed me into a cell, said he’d do me a favor and ‘purify’ me soon. Said I’d be happier if I joined him. I told him to shove it up his ass. So him chipping me makes sense, I guess? But that’s all I remember. Then I was here.” There was the more serious turn they were skirting around. Adora stayed still and quiet, studying Catra’s expression while she spoke. As much as she hated the very idea of what Catra had been through — it truly made her feel a little sick to think of the way she’d been treated, the way Prime had violated her mind — she let her explain without interrupting. She had been through some dark times herself lately, but the resignation in Catra’s voice, knowing that she had been expecting to die and accepted it, completely broke her heart. That wasn’t her Catra, giving up like that. But Adora couldn’t really blame her either. She must have thought she was never getting out any other way. “I don’t know…the exact sequence of it all,” she began slowly. “When I got here, I had just taken you to bed onboard Mara’s ship, so it’s not like we had time to talk about it. But at some point, after you saved Glimmer and before we could get back there to get you, he chipped you.” She swallowed hard and averted her eyes for a minute, trying to shake the image of a chipped, green-eyed Catra dressed in Horde Prime’s white and black uniform from her mind. She probably never truly would, no matter what happened next. “Um.” She cleared her throat, lifting her gaze back to Catra tentatively. “We had to stop to refuel the ship before we could get there. And by the time we made it, you…weren’t yourself. He… He was using you, controlling you. But you were fighting back and trying to push through it. And you did a few times, but he was just stronger and—” She had to stop a minute there, an unexpected burst of emotion causing her breath to catch and tears to fill her eyes. She hadn’t wanted this. She didn’t want Catra to see how this had affected her. She was supposed to be the strong one, the hero. She’d done what a hero was supposed to do, but it was so much more than that, too. It was Catra, and seeing her that way had taken its toll. It wasn’t the using and controlling that surprised Catra. The clones were slaves to his will, and she could infer easily that she’d been made into some docile puppet chanting shit about coming into the light. She tried not to picture it, or think back to that neon green pool with crackling energy – how painful it had been for Hordak, and how that was probably what was in her cards as well. Ignorance was bliss. No, what surprised her was Adora on the verge of tears and for what, her? They probably fought. She hadn’t outright said it, but Prime set her up as bait and she assumed he used her to attack Adora. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t gone toe to toe before, claws and fists and magical sword swinging about. This time must have been different. Felt different. She wouldn’t have wanted to fight her in this scenario, but she couldn’t know anything for sure. Catra didn’t remember – or hadn’t gone through it yet herself. The latter was probably the worst. She had to actively squash down the reflex to crawl onto her lap, wrap her arms around her and let out a series of purrs that once soothed her without fail. They’d done that back when they were kids, when something would upset Adora to the brink of an anxiety attack. Sometimes she’d sing old lullabies into her hair, claws moving gently through her stupid ponytail until her breathing evened. But that was a lifetime ago, and they weren’t those kids anymore. Still, Catra shifted. Moved a little closer with tentative scooches until the gap between them could be bridged by the length of her tail. It whipped anxiously until it thwapped the top of Adora’s thigh, and then coiled loosely around her wrist. “You can take it slow,” she muttered. “Not like I have anywhere else to go.” Adora was in no position to stop herself from looking surprised, a few stray tears sliding down her cheeks, when Catra inched closer to her. She had hoped they were in a better place — or at least might actively work toward that now that they had gotten Catra back from Horde Prime — but she knew that had really been wishful thinking. Moreso now that Catra’s memories didn’t match up with her own. So, the last thing she expected was any sort of comfort. But the familiar thwap of Catra’s tail against her thigh, then wrapped around her wrist had the same old effect. Her breathing settled, and with a deep breath, she did her best to banish the tears that had gathered. She lifted her hand to wipe her cheeks clean with her wrist, following it up with a tentative, apologetic smile. “You said you had questions, so…maybe just ask what you want to know? I think that might be easier,” she murmured. She slid forward a bit herself — not much, not so they were touching, but the gap was definitely closing. She just hoped Catra wouldn’t choose to move away. Adora was holding back, a lot. Generalizing the events, withholding specifics. Maybe the details were irrelevant and it was possible she was reading too much into it but – no, something told her that wasn’t it. She liked to muse over the possibility that she still knew bits and pieces of Adora that others didn’t, and it sure as hell felt like she was hiding a few important tidbits. The space between them diminished considerably. Catra didn’t shy away, and her tail didn’t budge from its hold around her wrist. It wasn’t as if the gesture was rejected, so she’d leave it for now. She let a few seconds pass for her to, ah, get it together before letting the words fall out of her mouth: “Why did you come back for me?” Her voice was quiet, and weak, and she fucking hated it and tried to compensate by firing off her analysis of the situation. “It made no strategic sense. There were no guarantees I’d be alive, and you had to know you’d be walking into a trap set up specifically for you. And risking your buddies on a mission like that? That’s stupid. You don’t win a war by trying to rescue your enemy, Adora.” There it was, that spitfire – the vestiges of rage, emphasized by a bristling (though unmoving) tail and a low growl blooming in her throat. She’d take this over sounding so pathetically small even if she knew she’d come to regret it in a handful of minutes. Three years apart and the circumstances surrounding Adora leaving the Horde might have changed the relationship she had with Catra. But nearly two decades together meant she still had some insight into her thought process and motivations that no one else did — she liked to think so, anyway. She was hardly surprised when Catra went from heartbreakingly vulnerable to cold and analytic, bordering on angry. Of course she did. She was trying to hide her feelings again. “You’re right,” she agreed, twisting her wrist to wrap her hand gently around Catra’s bristled up tail. “It was a stupid move. It wasn’t logical at all. I walked into a trap.” She shrugged one shoulder. It was true; it had terrified her in the moment, but she’d had to keep her composure and push through at that point. “I gave myself up, actually. I thought I could distract him and Bow and Glimmer and Entrapta could get you out of his holding cell and onto the ship before he realized what was happening. We put all of our lives on the line with no guarantees.” It wasn’t as if she’d done this without her friends’ consent. They had all agreed to this potential suicide mission. They’d known, at the very least, they were exposing themselves to Prime for reasons that might not be reasons anymore. But it was much more an emotional choice than rational — she could acknowledge that. “I couldn’t give up on you. What you did to help Glimmer really did change things,” she insisted, meeting Catra’s gaze seriously. “But I would have come to get you either way. You matter to me. That has never once changed. So, I had to try.” That did it. That was what spurred Catra's tail into tearing itself away from her grasp, lashing furiously like a whip aiming to kill. She couldn't hold her stare anymore - the eye contact was broken because it was too much to maintain. Adora was serious. She agreed to her assessment of her stupid plan as if it was nothing, as if she was worth putting her neck on the line. As if she knew how Catra told herself she didn't matter, so why not die? She shot up off the couch, arms wrapped around herself tight, back towards her. Catra considered bolting. Running off like a coward was so much easier than facing her problems, wasn't it? Tempting. Really tempting. But instead of sprinting out the door, she forced herself to slowly turn on her bare feet to point her gaze back to her. Still angry, still - something. Yeah. Something. "You," she hissed as she roughly shoved Adora’s shoulder into the couch, "are such an idiot. This She-Ra thing’s gone to your head and it’s going to get you killed one day, you know that?” Watching Catra shoot off the couch so suddenly made Adora’s heart sink, but she dug her fingers into her thighs to keep herself from reaching out. She was trying her absolute best to let all of this happen on Catra’s terms. If she wanted to leave, she wasn’t going to stop her. This conversation was a lot to take in, and it was still really just the tip of the iceberg. The last thing she expected when Catra turned around with that angry look on her face — very angry, like furiously angry — and shove her against the back of the couch. She expected harsh words, maybe yelling if she was worked up enough, but for some reason, she hadn’t expected it to get physical. And of course she should have — for the past three years, fighting was practically all they’d been doing. But she wouldn’t succumb. She pressed her fingertips a little harder into her legs, her jaw clenching as she fought to keep herself from pushing back. It was really hard not to respond to angry Catra in kind. “Yeah, maybe I will. Maybe I should already be dead.” She tried to keep her tone even, but it was still tinged with the slightest edge of exasperation. “But if I died saving you, it would be worth it. Okay? I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth.” Catra was tempted to call horseshit on all of it. Why now? Why the hell did Adora suddenly care that much about what happened to her? She'd been left behind with people that had no qualms in killing her if it suited them. Shadow Weaver, Hordak - they had both tried, and they had both failed. Horde Prime was hardly any different. She could have shouted, yelled these points out to remind her of every betrayal she'd felt by her for the sake of this stupid war, and yet - The words died in her throat. She hovered over Adora for a few moments. Riled, and resentful, and heartbroken. Maybe a little hopeful. Maybe crazed. Her hand lingered on her shoulder, claws out and digging into her jacket. But then - slowly - it dropped, falling back to her side. "I'm -" Catra stopped. Her claws flexed, and her tail kept twitching, and she averted her eyes again. She was a coward, couldn't even look at her for half of the conversation. "I meant it when I said I was sorry. For everything." Her ears flattened against her skull. "And I'm sorry, again." The rage quieted into this dull roar, tucked within the edges of her mind. She didn't know if she could ever get over it, but for now she was able to push it aside. Adora hadn’t realized how angry she must have looked until Catra apologized again and the tension faded out of her face. Her eyebrows unfurrowed; her mouth slipped from a deep frown to something a little more reserved; and her gaze softened as she took in the sight of Catra before her. She looked so small and frightened, closer to the kid she’d been during Shadow Weaver’s abuse than the cold, calculating leader of the Horde she’d become over the past three years. And the weight of what she’d done to that kid, that girl she had loved all her life, settled heavily onto Adora’s chest — not for the first time. “I’m sorry,” Adora spoke up, reaching out to snag Catra’s hand. There was no holding back this time, not even the smallest consideration that maybe she should. “I should have fought harder for you all these years. I should have tried to—to make you listen, something. I shouldn’t have left you there with…them. You deserved better than that, especially from me.” She had tried, though, during that first year particularly. She had tried everything she could think of to make Catra understand why she’d left. It had never been because she didn’t want to be with her or because she didn’t care about her. She wasn’t always the most aware, but she knew the situation she’d left Catra in when she left the Horde. It had haunted her more often that she’d ever admitted to Bow or Glimmer or any of her Rebellion friends. But she also knew she couldn’t force Catra to leave because that wouldn’t have been good for anyone. She had to want to leave, and she had insisted on staying. Even She-Ra couldn’t work miracles. Still, she felt the least she owed Catra was a sincere apology. It wasn’t the first time and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Leaving Catra behind, not being able to pull her away from the Horde, was one of her biggest regrets. Watching her turn into that twisted version of herself over the years had genuinely broken her heart. What she’d done — sacrificing herself to send Glimmer back to them — had renewed Adora’s hope that the Catra she’d known was still in there and, maybe for the first time, she was ready to really listen. The last thing Catra expected from her was an apology. She's heard a variant of it before, something along the lines of I'm sorry for leaving and I never wanted to leave you. Back then she couldn't fathom the idea of accepting it - the sentiment felt like a bitter afterthought, insincere and forced because they'd been stuck in that First Ones’ ruin. Adora had always been her priority and the fact that she wasn't hers had been the toughest pill to swallow. It destroyed her, and it wasn’t Adora’s fault she was that fragile. But she could believe this version of an apology, somehow. Not that she deserved it. Whatever her reasons were for staying with the Horde didn't matter. Catra had taken it too far. The damage was done, and saving Glimmer wouldn't correct any of her wrongs. She'd been selfish, and spiteful, and so cruel. Nothing could justify that. Adora may have hurt her but she had hurt Adora back tenfold. Hurting was all she ever did. Catra let her take her hand, and now she was close enough to where the front of her legs touched Adora's knees. This - holding hands - shouldn't feel as easy as it did. It should feel strange and unfamiliar after so long. So why didn't it? "What did you do to yourself?" she asked with a tired sigh, the fury she had clung to ebbing. Catra pressed their palms together, and interlocking their fingers into a firmer hold. There were still so many unsaid things between them (Adora was definitely hiding stuff from her) but this felt like a good start, perhaps. “We’ve been here for a couple of days and you’re already hurt.” Although Adora was happy to have the subject dropped and shifted, she would have kept answering questions if Catra kept asking. She wasn’t purposely trying to be evasive — it just wasn’t easy to explain. She didn’t know the entire story from Catra’s side, and she could give the blow by blow, but that might only make things harder. There was already so much unspoken and unresolved between them. She hated to add to that. So, she took the out she was offered. She gave Catra’s fingers a squeeze and shrugged. “Lost my balance and caught myself up on one of those cliffs. I’m okay.” She had a little gash under her chin that she’d tried to tend to and probably a few bruises on her knees and lower legs, but her hands had caught the worst of it. She had sustained much worse than some cuts and scrapes, though, so she wasn’t worried. “I think you’re right, though. I don’t think we can force our way out.” She had gone on those explorations knowing that was probably the case, but she tried anyway. She always had to try. Catra rolled her eyes. Climbing cliffs, seriously? Couldn’t she sit still and not do that? “No shit,” she scoffed. “I’m sure your attempt to find a way was very valiant but it looks like we’re stuck here an unforeseen amount of time. You look like crap, by the way.” It wasn’t meant in a mean way. She was just voicing an observation, pot calling the kettle black and all. Catra noticed the wear and tear on her the moment she walked in despite her attempts to make herself look presentable. “Why don’t you just heal yourself and ditch the bandages? This seems like it’d just get annoying after awhile.” The way she yanked their hands closer to her chest wasn’t all that gentle (they’ve always been a little rough with each other, mostly for the sake of play). She was being nosy and plucking at the wrappings to get a better look. Adora knew it was stupid and didn’t make sense. Sometimes she made stupid choices, and this was definitely another one. The effort had been fruitless, a waste of time and energy and nothing more. It worked as a distraction, though, and their timeline difference had left her in need of a distraction. Maybe even more than the knowledge of what was probably waiting for her back in their own universe. “Thanks a lot,” she huffed, but it was clear she wasn’t really offended by Catra’s commentary on how she was looking. She knew she looked worn out. She had seen the bags under her eyes from lack of sleep, and she certainly wasn’t sleeping enough to get rid of them. “I’m fine, seriously. They’ll heal eventually. I can’t really…do that right now.” She averted her eyes again. She hated that she couldn’t seem to access She-Ra when she wanted her, even though she knew her alter ego was still there, lurking beneath the surface. She couldn’t understand why she was still having such a hard time summoning her when she’d come out so easily back on Prime’s ship. It seriously irritated her. She missed the First Ones’ sword. Despite all the horror attached to it, she’d never had a hard time transforming with it. “What’s that even supposed to mean?” Catra blinked, having ceased her meddling with the bandages and half-wondering if she should just - uh, let her hand go. She didn’t yet. The way that Adora was the one avoiding her eyes didn’t bode well. “Is She-Ra broken or something?” She meant it as a joke, but now she was beginning to realize something might seriously be up. Her eyes tightened into a pointed stare, heatless though suspicious. “I figured you might have had some trouble with him.” Having free range around his ship caused her to wander the corridors, mapping everything to memory and watch how things functioned. Weeks of quiet observation is what taught her how to work the controls so she had that skill ready to go by the time she broke Glimmer out of her cell. Catra had also been hoping to figure out if the fucker had a weakness, something to exploit. She came up with nothing. “Did he do something to you?” “No, no.” Adora didn’t hesitate to reassure Catra with a quick, soft smile. “Prime didn’t hurt me. Not like that. He tried to use you to take me out, which sucked, but that didn’t go his way.” It kind of did — She-Ra had literally had to resurrect Catra after Prime forced that plunge to the ground — but she wasn’t getting into that right now. For Catra’s sake and for her own. “I guess She-Ra is broken, kind of.” She sighed, adjusting her grip and brushing her thumb across Catra’s knuckles. “I broke the sword to keep from activating the Heart, and I’ve been having a hard time accessing her since then. I know she’s there. I’ve gotten her to come out a couple of times. It’s just…not so simple anymore.” Slowly, she was putting together the pieces in her head. The Heart - Glimmer had fessed up about that plan in full, guilt ravaging her heart from having acted like an asshat. Some of it had to do with the fact that Catra planted Double Trouble to literally mess with them and damage their morale, but there had been some organic development there they couldn’t take credit for. Adora broke the sword. Adora broke the sword around the time they were abducted. Catra’s eyes tightened into slits as she mulled that over. “But you had her,” she began cautiously. “When you boarded Prime’s ship. Right?” She assumed that they fought with her as She-Ra while she was chipped. That’s how they usually fought, and it wasn’t like Catra couldn’t keep up. Adora was rarely herself in the middle of a battle - though she did recall seeing the footage of her on Etheria fighting and suspiciously, she wasn’t in her eight-foot goddess get up. Her tail swished again. It was a sign that her temper was beginning to spark juuust a bit. “Or was part of your stupid plan to face him gambling the chance that you couldn’t turn into She-Ra?” Adora bit down on her bottom lip and she shook her head, averting her eyes once again. “It was a gamble,” she admitted quietly. She knew Catra wasn’t going to like that answer, but she wasn’t going to lie. “The planet we were fueling up on was falling apart and she’d been out then! For…a minute.” It had been so brief, just the barest flicker, but She-Ra had saved the day during that big earthquake. But Adora had known she couldn’t count on her, and still, she’d forged forward. She had to try. “And she came back in the end. After Prime—” She had to stop again, take a breath. Remembering chipped Catra, possessed and controlled by Prime but fighting — the pain was still so fresh. She didn’t like thinking about the eerie neon green in place of the mismatched gold and blue eyes watching her now. A part of her wanted to totally avoid the subject, but she had to get over her discomfort and be honest. She had dragged it out long enough. “He made us fight. He talked to me through you—well, he threatened you. Said he would make you his new vessel.” Another pause; a slow breath. It was still way too emotional to get through without some cracks. “Your chip got damaged and — I mean, you had already been trying to get out from under his control, but it was working more and more. I… I promised I would take you home. I really thought you’d broken free, but…he wasn’t done.” Her grip on Catra’s hand tightened. “That platform his throne is on? He ma—” She choked around the half-spoken word, fighting against the sob rising in her throat. Her eyes closed, and this time, the tears couldn’t be kept at bay. “He made you jump off the edge and—” Her free hand balled up into a fist, her nails digging into the bandage around her palm. She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence at that moment, but she figured Catra would catch on. “Okay, okay, stop,” Catra sputtered out, not entirely sure yet what the hell she was trying to relay but that wasn’t her concern. Adora was - crying? Worse than before, like she was teetering on the edge of a total breakdown. “You don’t have to say anything else, just - uh -” Fuck. She yanked her hand free and before she could even think her actions through, her arms circled around Adora. A knee was propped onto the couch, and she kind of just held her against her chest. Catra didn’t know what else to really do. Her heart thumped hard and fast, and then came the low vibrations - a rolling of purrs, not of contentment. They were a little uneven and a little broken up, but they were there in hopes it helped. “Let’s talk about - okay, when was the last time you actually had decent sleep?” Adora didn’t protest or try to pull away. She sunk into Catra’s embrace and tried to close her eyes to stem the flow of tears. She wrapped both arms around Catra’s waist and just clung to her, struggling to regain her composure. Being wrapped up like this helped; there was still that old comfort in Catra’s scent, her touch, the warmth of her body. The purring was what did her in, though. It had been so long since she’d heard that sound, but her body still instinctively relaxed, every bit of tension draining out of her. “Been a while,” she murmured, nuzzling her cheek against Catra’s chest. She slept occasionally, but she didn’t sleep well. She hadn’t slept well in a long time, even before losing She-Ra. But the loss of her alter ego had only made it harder. Now that she knew she was there and she still struggled to access her, it was no better. Truthfully, it didn’t feel right for her to be the one comforting Adora - not after the hell she had put her through, on purpose. It should be Glimmer, or Bow. Anyone else but her. And yet she was all Adora had at the moment, so Catra would try. She owed her that much and more. The purrs kicked up a notch with a spur of confidence, and she pressed her cheek atop of her head. It would flatten the hair poof she insisted on styling despite feeling like shit. “Do you think you’ll be able to trust me for the next hour, or something?” she mumbled, tail moving with a mind of its own as it grazed up Adora’s side. “I wanna try something.” Once Adora had started to get ahold of herself, she realized how weird the situation probably was. She and Catra hadn’t really been on good terms lately, to put it mildly. And, hopeful as she was for the future, she didn’t know how things would have gone back home after Prime’s ship. She didn’t know how things would go here either; just the short amount of time they’d spent together so far had been an emotional roller coaster. But all they had here was each other. Still, she didn’t want to cling too hard and scare Catra off. She thought about thanking her and pulling away. Before she could, Catra’s cheek was pressing against her head, and she just melted, butterflies swarming to life in the pit of her belly. She felt like a little kid again, curled up with her best friend in the world, hiding away from Shadow Weaver and the other cadets to just be with each other. “I trust you,” she said, nodding against Catra’s chest, her fingers pressing gently into her back. She didn’t know what exactly Catra had in mind, but she wasn’t worried. Right now, she just felt safe. Catra tried to pretend the words didn’t dosomething to her, like they didn’t resurrect a dead mess of butterflies in her gut. Sentimentalities really weren’t her thing - feelings were awful, and she fought them down as hard as she’d fought Adora in the battlefield. And here they were, proving themselves to not be dead. So she opted for a little bit of sass, a little bit of tease. It usually got under her skin - maybe it’d level them out. A claw went under her chin, and she slowly lifted her face so their eyes could meet. “I’m taking you to bed, princess,” Catra smirked. The innuendo probably went over her head. She counted on that, and her intentions were innocent despite how the words sounded thick like honey and the mischief in her eyes. Catra broke their embrace to grab her by the hand, and pull her up from the couch. “C’mon. Bedroom. It looks like our apartments are identical in layout, so I’m guessing it’s this way?” Catra’s tone made Adora roll her eyes, but the smirk that followed made her cheeks flushed and her chest all fluttery. She let herself be pulled up to her feet, confirming Catra’s guess with just a short, tired nod of her head. Whatever charge she’d managed to amass during her brief rest before Catra’s arrival was nearly drained. Going to bed sounded good right now. Maybe the tears had tired her out enough for sleep. “Are you staying?” she questioned, shrugging her red jacket off her shoulders as they entered the bedroom. She hoped so but didn’t want to assume. Maybe Catra just wanted to tuck her into bed and get out of here. She would understand after what an emotional mess Adora had been up until now. That inquiry was met with a scowl. Ugh, of course she was staying but she wasn’t going to like, say it. Catra stood the night stand, folded one arm around herself and used her free hand to point at the bed. “You try to fight me in your sleep, I’m out,” she groused, figuring that statement would ultimately answer her question. “Take out your ponytail. You’re gonna be bald by thirty if you keep that up.” For whatever reason the little act of her tail touching her, and the hug worked to soothe her nerves. So maybe she’d be able to get Adora to sleep with the power of nostalgia. It was worth a try. “Bossy,” Adora commented. She glared at Catra heatlessly, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. She may not have gotten a direct answer to her question, but the intention was clear anyway. She was glad. The idea of Catra staying with her did provide a little bit of comfort. Worrying about her was part of the reason she’d been struggling to sleep lately. Having her close might ease her nerves and provide some much-needed reassurance. She sank down onto the bed and pulled her ponytail free as she was told, brushing her bangs away from her eyes. She looked up at Catra, holding her hand out expectantly. “Are you planning to tell me your master plan?” “On your side,” she commanded, an eyebrow quirked expectantly. Yes, she did take her hand, but she led her to the position Catra wanted - on her side, back towards her. She settled in right behind her, adjusting the mess of her blonde hair so it wasn’t quite tickling her nose. Her chest went flush against her, and her arm circled her waist. Out of the two of them Catra was the smallest, but the spooning worked - at least, she was comfortable. “I don’t sing anymore,” she warned, nose pressed into the nape of her neck. “But I can…you know.” Purr. She was purring. “Is this gonna be okay?” She had to make sure she wasn’t crossing some boundary. Adora said she trusted her, but that was likely temporary and she wouldn’t mind the extra assurance. Adora was definitely tense for a few seconds when they first settled down in bed. She was happy that Catra wanted to stay and totally okay with sharing a bed — they had done that for years on end, in beds much smaller than the huge one in this bedroom. She just hadn’t expected cuddling. Maybe she should have after how touchy they’d been, but it had still taken her by surprise. She was okay with it, though. The tension was nothing more than a blip before she relaxed, sparks shooting down her spine when she felt Catra’s nose pressed into the nape of her neck. “It’s okay,” she affirmed softly. “This is good.” She was sad to hear Catra didn’t sing anymore, but she wouldn’t have asked, anyway. If Catra hadn’t offered, she wouldn’t have asked for this either. But it felt nice. “Have you been sleeping?” She hadn’t been so bold as to return the ‘you look like crap’ comment, but — well, she did. She looked skinny and kind of ragged, and Adora seriously doubted she’d been getting any sort of rest on Prime’s ship. This is good. Catra was clinging to that, then. Not like Adora didn’t have it in her to toss her off the bed if she wasn’t fine with this. The gesture was as familiar as it was strange, though - these moments were supposed to be gone. Adora was supposed to hate her. Hell, she certainly hated herself. Maybe she’d just leave if this was successful. There was no reason for her to stay after that. “Not really,” she admitted noncommittally. How could she, when all she dreamt about was that stupid fucking portal? Scorpia leaving her. Entrapta on Beast Island. Now that she knew the former was at least alive, she hoped it would assuage whatever part of her brain that insisted on tormenting her about it but that was highly doubtful. And the way Adora looked at her that way with those eyes - it was seared behind her eyelids forever. There was no turning back after that. Then being on Prime’s ship, his eyes literally everywhere? Catra spent sleepless nights roaming the same corridors over and over until she knew the place like the back of her hand. Rest wasn’t happening. Her tail settled over her thigh, still and limp. “Can I say something?” Adora wasn’t surprised by her answer. With the way things had escalated after the portal, even before Horde Prime, sleep had been hard to come by. They had been at war this entire time, but some days weren’t as bad as others. Some nights, she could actually sleep deeply and wake up refreshed. Those nights had been gone for a long time now. Losing She-Ra, losing Glimmer, facing a bigger bad than Catra or Hordak had ever been, it had her stress and anxiety levels at a fever pitch. But Catra was in the midst of it all. She was stuck on Prime’s ship in the middle of space, alone and held captive. She may have been given some degree of freedom, from what Glimmer had told them, but she didn’t truly have any. And then he had stripped it away even further, all because of Adora. She had saved Glimmer for Adora. And she had been punished. She reached down to brush her fingers across Catra’s tail, stroking the fine, soft fur. She wasn’t sure what she was about to hear, but she wasn’t going to deny her. “Yeah, of course. You can say anything you want.” For the first few, slow seconds, Adora was met with silence. Until - and very softly - Catra decided to speak up. The fact that they weren't looking right at each other was good. Adora wore her feelings on her face so much, and she didn't know if she could handle that while she poured out her own goddamn feelings. "I know I don't remember, or just - haven't gone through what you have, but thank you. For coming to get me." That was a decent start. One thing down, another to go. "And I know saying sorry doesn't fix anything," she continued, not realizing that the hold over Adora's waist had tensed and tightened. "I know I fucked up, a lot. I'm going to try to work on not doing that so much." Catra started gnawing at her bottom lip, canines so sharp they almost broke skin with how she tried to keep her nerves under wrap. "But if you ever want me to just go away and leave you alone, tell me. I'll go. You don't owe me anything." Adora swore her heart nearly burst out of her chest when Catra thanked her. That was the last thing she’d expected. Honestly, she’d thought it would be some sort of teasing, snarky remark to balance out her request’s serious tone. She listened without commenting — she wanted to interject, but she knew Catra needed to get this out. So, she let her, waiting patiently. She closed her eyes when Catra’s grip around her waist tightened, trying not to let herself get over emotional again. But in the end, she was overwhelmed and she had to do something about. She slowly broke Catra’s grip around her waist, turned onto her back, and pulled her old friend into her arms. She was sure she’d get some protests or some squirming, and she wasn’t going to force her to be still. She was just going to try to give comfort as best as she could. “I don’t want you to go anywhere,” she murmured, pressing her cheek against the top of Catra’s head. It was a little easier to be so open and honest and keep herself from breaking down again when she wasn’t looking dead into Catra’s eyes. Hopefully, she’d get better at that again over time. “Sorry might not fix it, but it means a lot. And I want us to really fix things.” Catra hadn’t expected their position to change but, no, she didn’t protest. There were a few moments of awkwardness in figuring out what the hell to do with her hands but as Adora spoke, they moved on their own accord. Up her back, clinging to her shirt, claws out and pricking at her more than intended. “You promise?” she blurted out, pitiful and choked and broken. At least she could still hide her face, tucked (nuzzled, even) into her neck - she didn’t want her to see the tears pinched at the corner of her eyes. Adora was giving her a chance. One she didn’t deserve, but she’d take it. She was done being this wretched, angry little beast meant for destruction. Oh. That hit Adora hard. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying hard to banish the image of Catra on Prime’s ship, holding herself and trying to shake Prime’s control. Those exact same words — the exact same tone — it was a terrible echo that plucked at her heart strings. And that hurt far more than the pinpricks of claws pressing into the skin of her back. “I promise,” she whispered fiercely, squeezing Catra a little tighter. Tears were welling in her eyes again, but she was fighting them. Her voice betrayed her a bit, though; shaky and slow. “I promise, Catra. I never gave up on you. I couldn’t. I know we can fix this.” Catra gave these quick, short little nods. There was this sniffly sound she had failed to suppress. Her chest felt tight, but oddly, she also felt lighter; like she shed an old, rotten skin to start anew. The purrs never stopped. They persisted, especially now that they were ultimately chest to chest. Her mission had been to lull her to sleep and she wasn’t about to call quits. “I’m tired, Adora,” she rasped out, meaning that in every sense of the word - physically, emotionally, everything. Catra was spent. Her tail twitched, and its new home was Adora’s waist. There were other things that threatened to fall off the tip of her tongue. Words like I missed you, and other words she never said aloud, not even to herself. But for now, she settled with: “I’m just glad I’m here with you.” “So am I.” Adora let her hand rest between Catra’s shoulders, rubbing in slow circles. She was effectively responding to all of it at once. She was exhausted in every sense of the word. She had been for days, weeks, months, but she hadn’t allowed it to catch up with her. And she was glad, if she was going to be stuck in some strange place she couldn’t escape, at least she was stuck with Catra. At least now they had a chance to make things right, away from the pressures and baggage of home. “Sleep. I’m gonna sleep, too.” She kissed Catra’s forehead, quick and soft, before settling her cheek against the top of her head again. Her eyes slipped closed to the vibration of Catra’s rumbling purrs, steadier and more consistent now, against her chest and stole her last bit of consciousness in seconds. |