Chapter Text
She can’t be gone. She’s too stubborn, she tells herself. She wouldn’t go unless it was to somehow spite her. She always had to have the last laugh.
She can’t be gone.
Adora and Scorpia stood in the castle garden, better known now as her garden, and exchanged a nervous glance. Adora gripped the bottom of her jacket and ran her fingers through her long hair. She didn’t bother putting it up anymore.
“I’ve tried a location spell and I cannot sense her anywhere on this plane of existence,” claimed the sorceress. “Not that that’s necessarily the worst outcome...”
The sorceress’ eyes morphed into narrow slits as her gaze, painted with both contempt and satisfaction, crossed paths with her own.
Don’t let her into your head, Adora.
‘You couldn’t save her and now she’s gone, for good. It’s all your fault.’
No, this isn’t my fault— she...she made her choice.
‘As if either of us ever had a choice. Shadow Weaver controls us both. Always has...’
‘...do not let something like this happen again.’
Adora...Adora...
“ADORA!” She shouted. Scorpia held one claw up in the air, waving it around as if to signal down Swift Wind. “Hey Adora, you alright there? We kind of lost you for a second.” As if on instinct, the scorpion princess wedged herself between Adora and Shadow Weaver. She may not have known Adora as well as Catra, but the face of her feline friend’s raw fear and paranoia following an encounter with the sorceress had permanently seared itself into her memory. Shadow Weaver was a permanent scar that also happened to be contagious, and she would be damned if she let her continue hurting anyone else.
The blonde let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, exhaling frustration, guilt, and regret she thought she locked away. She briefly furrowed her brow before the muscles in her face relaxed and gave an unconvincing yet still tender half-smile. She waited until her back was turned before speaking.
“I’m fine,” was all she could muster before her expression was but an amateur impersonation of her former self, and even then, she had no idea who that was. She recomposed herself and walked up the stairs in the most disruptive and piercing silence she had ever experienced— a scream she couldn’t hear, a touch she couldn’t feel.
‘I can’t feel her on this plane of existence...’
Those words echoed in an indefinite loop, locked in an eternal dance, begging for her undivided attention. She knew exactly what those words meant. She just didn’t believe them. At least she tried not to, but deep down she had a feeling that the sorceress was right.
Logically, it made sense. No one has seen or heard from Catra in the two weeks since the Heart of Etheria almost set off a magical apocalypse. They knew Horde Prime had Glimmer and Hordak, and they knew that because Bow tried to save Glimmer. But when asked if he had seen the feline among the wreckage of the now pummeled Fright Zone, Bow had only this to say:
“I’m sorry, Scorpia. I know you told me that the last person that should’ve seen her was Glimmer, but when I got there I only saw Glimmer and Hordak, and they...Prime took Glimmer,” his voice cracking at the mention of his best friend’s name.
Scorpia, not wanting to give in so easily, took a short trip to the Fright Zone herself, vowing to find her Wildcat, even if they were technically not friends at the moment. But their friendship never truly ended, and Scorpia never stopped loving Catra and never would— that’s just the kind of friend she was. Entrapta and Bow managed to engineer a way to trace Horde radio signals, like the ones in Force Captain badges, from an even further distance than Bow had done in the Valley of the Lost.
Surprisingly, Scorpia managed to keep her tracker pad from the time that Catra was captured, which had an encrypted (hah!) cached backup of Catra’s communicator signature. Entrapta hacked it with ease, of course, and imported this signature into her upgraded tracker pad. She wished she hadn’t.
The signal came from a place the purple-haired scientist knew intimately: Hordak’s Sanctum.
-
Adora sighed.
She finally had a moment alone in her room, away from the chaos of planning attack and defense strategies against Horde Prime, away from those she held dear, who meant well and loved her but never truly saw her. There had only ever been one person who saw her before her time as She-Ra. The blonde didn’t even know if she was alive. She felt hollow.
Adora sat on the soft cushion in front of her window, the moonlight bathing her in a soft, ethereal blue glow. She somberly gazed at the stardust that now, in chaotic yet beautifully disorganized patterns, decorated the deep indigo blanket that was the wider universe. Where there was once emptiness and two moons there were now stars— Etheria was back where it belonged, though obviously not out of danger quite yet. And even though the stars had finally returned to bring some light to the dark and infinite void, the bottomless pit growing inside of her had never felt more prominent, painful, and…
Empty.
She didn’t know what to do anymore. She didn’t just lose both of her best friends, she lost her entire sense of worth and purpose. She lost the sword, her sense of duty, her pledge to the greater good. No— she shattered it; once she saw through the spell that Light Hope ensnared her with, once she realized that once again, her entire purpose was one colossal, carefully crafted lie, the illusion faded.
She had been lied to— again.
She had been manipulated— again.
She had given up everything…
Again.
And the payoff? Learning that She-Ra was a tool, a piece of a machine, a weapon; the centerpiece of a force with so much destructive potential, an entire civilization abandoned it. The Heart of Etheria was evil, and by that logic so was the sword.
And her best friend activated it anyway.
Thinking about it hit her like a gut punch. What could she have done? Could she have tried harder? Why was it not enough for Glimmer to trust her? But she couldn’t dwell on those thoughts, not when she had another more pressing, dire question at the forefront of her mind.
Was Catra still alive?
Was Catra dead?
She knew the answer to the second question. The Catra she knew died a long time ago. Adora thought it happened in the portal. Then she pondered it more and thought it happened in the Crystal Castle. Then she thought it was when she first turned her back on the Horde and everyone in it— including Catra.
She couldn’t understand why she didn’t just join the Rebellion with her. Did Catra want to rule the world so badly she would sacrifice their friendship? Did Catra really not care about what the Horde was doing to the planet and its people? After all, she knew what the Horde had been doing this whole time; if she knew and did nothing, that must mean she was fine with it, that she didn’t care about who got hurt so long as she came out on top.
Why did Catra have to be evil? Why did she pull the switch just to win? Why did she do the things she did without a hint of remorse? And yet here she was, missing and longing for her ex-best friend. Because as many bad memories as they had, they also had good ones. Catra sneaking her a ration bar. Catra taking care of Adora when she got sick. Catra sleeping at the foot of her bed because she was scared of shadows. Catra sleeping next to her, breath tickling the base of her neck, an arm around her waist and under her pillow, legs together in a hopelessly entangled knot destined to be forever intertwined. Catra, Catra, Catra...
The Catra she knew died a long time ago. A lone tear slid down her cheek.
-
She didn’t remember falling asleep next to her window, but the throbbing ache at the base of her skull was very eager to remind her that she had. Adora looked out the window and found that she had fallen asleep for quite some time as it was nearly dawn. The near-breaking sunrise adorned the sky in beautifully radiating shades of purple, orange, and red. That’s right, they had stars now. The brief bliss she allowed herself to feel retreated as quickly as it came as the sky became a painful reminder: she had failed. That’s why there were stars, that’s why the sky looked the way it did now. She failed to stop Light Hope from opening a portal and sending them back into the wider universe. Mara’s sacrifice was for nothing.
She failed again.
‘You were nothing before Hordak and I took you in…nothing without me!’ ‘Such a shame...we had such high hopes for you Force Captain. Look at you now. It’s a pity, really. No wonder Catra never needed you.’
‘Well, maybe your best isn’t good enough. If it was my mother would still be here!’
‘When did you become so weak?’
Catra.
She thought back to a week-old conversation she had with Scorpia. At the time, it had only been seven days since the Heart nearly wiped out Etheria and everyone on it. Seven days since she came to yet another crossroads and made one of the most important decisions of her life. Seven days since she decided to break away from a destiny forced upon her, a destiny she never wanted. Seven days since she broke the sword...and herself.
It was ironic really. Her first real action as She-Ra was thrusting the Sword of Protection into the ground which created a shockwave so powerful it knocked Horde soldiers and tanks alike. She remembered surrendering a part of herself to whatever being she was a vessel for and losing control for a brief amount of time. It was ironic really.
As the destructive energy channeled itself into the sword, as Light Hope beckoned her to raise it straight into the air and fire the weapon, as everything around her screeched that she had failed once again, Adora made both the easiest and most difficult choice she had ever made— well, almost most difficult choice.
‘I won’t be controlled. I am not a piece of their machine. I am not a weapon. And I’m going to end this now!’
Adora was angry. How dare they? She left everything, everyone, for the greater good. She sacrificed everything for a chance to make the world right, to fix the damage the Horde, her Horde, had done. And it was all a lie. Once again, she was a pawn; controlled, manipulated, motivated by skewed retellings of a story she should have scrutinized more closely. Mara was never compromised because she was weak; she was compromised because she loved. Mara loved Etheria, and in Light Hope’s eyes, in their eyes, she had failed because her attachment made her weak.
‘No. My attachments are part of me, Adora. I can’t let it end here. I have to fight it.’
Her grip on the Sword of Protection tightened as she fought against destiny and every single ounce of magical energy on Etheria. She was swimming against the current of a raging river, the impending abyss lingering just a few hundred feet away. It was only a matter of time before she went over—
NO! She won’t give up. She promised. Not on her friends. Not on Etheria. Not on herself.
With a final push, she mustered all of her might, her energy, her willpower, and forced the tip of the sword down into the ground beneath her. The sound of shattering metal was nothing in comparison to the deafening roar of the untameable energy encircling her. She heard one final sound, an explosion, before collapsing.
Her conversation with Scorpia started out as a nonchalant retelling of their day. One would think that thousands of hovering spaceships would put a damper on any feelings of relief or comfort, but oddly enough, Scorpia had a way of making even the direst of situations feel manageable. Now that the sword was gone, Adora spent any spare time she had on the training grounds, re-sharpening the skills that made her a lethal force to be reckoned with in the first place. Sparring partners that matched her skill were limited if non-existent. There was only one person Adora truly respected and admired in combat.
“Adora? Hey, Etheria to Adoooora, you in there?”
Scorpia’s voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts. Thank the First Ones— oh.
Scorpia gave her a look that was a mixture of concern, confusion and surprisingly...resentment? She was never the best at reading or understanding people. She could only guess and hope that this wasn’t going to become one of those conversations.
“Sorry, Scorpia. Just lost in my head again, that’s all.” It was all she could say.
Scorpia stared blankly for a few seconds before smiling. “Hey, hey, don’t even worry about it! I understand completely! You know, sometimes, whenever Catra would get stuck in her head I’d have to wrap her up in a blanket just so she could talk about whatever was going on in that beautiful brain of hers!” Scorpia’s chuckle turned into a frown. She let out a defeated sigh. “Look, I know she…” She paused. “I know she’s done terrible things. And I let them happen. And, and, I know things between you two are complicated, but you guys have such a strong bond and me...well, I know she isn’t evil. I know it.” Any hesitation in Scorpia’s eyes was replaced by a look of determination so strong it made Adora blink three times in rapid succession.
Scorpia continued, “She was never beyond saving. But I realized that...” Scorpia’s frown turned into a pained smile, “I realized that it was never my place to save her from herself.” Adora raised an eyebrow in confusion as Scorpia paused to recollect her thoughts. “It was never up to me to save her. But it was never up to you either. It was hard for me to not think about what I could have done, what I thought let happen, but Catra made her own choices.” Adora realized what Scorpia was trying to say. She appreciated the thought, even if she didn’t completely believe it to be true. Even after all this time, a large part of her feels responsible for what Catra became.
Adora, taking it all in, finally spoke. What came out was not what she expected.
“Then why do I feel like I failed her?” she choked, “If I couldn’t save her, what made me think I could save anyone else?” She didn’t notice when the tears started falling freely, nor did she notice the scorpion princess pulling her into a tender embrace, rubbing her claws gently along her back. She had to admit, it was nice having someone who somewhat understood her complicated feelings regarding Catra.
“Adora, I’m gonna tell you something,” she started, “Before I really ever talked to you, I really didn’t like you. No idea why, but I realized later that it was because I knew that Catra would never look at me the way she looked at you. You guys just have this bond that no matter what happens, no matter who tries to pry you apart, even if it’s the universe, you somehow always come back to each other.” Scorpia has to fight back tears before she can continue. “She never hated you, you know.”
Adora’s eyes widened in surprise. What? Everything Catra did to her had to have been motivated by hatred. How else could she explain when she left her dangling off a cliff over an open chasm? How she kidnapped her and pulled a lever that she knew would end Etheria as they knew it? How she callously kidnapped an entire village just to lure her into a painful electrical trap? No, Catra hated her. She didn’t join her in Thaymore, she chose to stay with the Horde. The Evil Horde. The tears finally stopped and she slowly pulled away from Scorpia’s embrace. Her gaze remained fixed on her own two feet, unwilling to face her former enemy turned friend.
She had to have hated me, she thought.
“Then why did she do it,” Adora let out more venomous than she intended. “Why did she hurt my friends, why did she want to hurt my friends, why did she want to hurt me? What could I have said, what could I have done?! What didn’t I do?!” Her questions gradually became anguished screams.
Scorpia looked at her with sympathy. “That’s the thing, Adora. I kind of realized that sometimes, the universe feels like it has to break something just to fix it. And I mean, Entrapta always talks about imperfection and failure being beautiful— how it’s part of the process and everything. How all things, no matter how broken or damaged they seem, can be fixed.” Adora finally locks eyes with Scorpia. “Well, that’s what she says about her inventions but I think the same thing applies to friendships! I mean, come on, I don’t think any strong friendship comes without its struggles— how else would you know it’s real?”
Adora was confused. Friendship. Sometimes it felt like what she and Catra used to have transcended that. Sometimes, she felt like no matter what, destiny would inevitably lead her back to Catra, for better or worse. The Horde never explained any type of relationship- she didn’t even know what an aunt was for Etheria’s sake. All she knew was this: every moment she spent with Catra felt drastically different compared to what she felt when she was with others, even Bow and Glimmer. The stolen glances that Spinerella and Netossa would sneak during war meetings reminded her of that. What was that word again? Wife? Girlfriend? It didn’t matter. The Catra she knew died a long time ago. There was no going back.
“Scorpia, can I ask you something?” she looked down and furrowed her brow. Scorpia’s tail swayed slightly as the atmosphere shifted.
“Sure thing, Adora. But I do have to warn ya, sometimes I ramble when people ask me stuff because, well, people never ask me stuff so it feels good when someone trusts me enough to ask me stuff! And I’m rambling again aren’t I,” she flinches as she cuts herself off. Adora laughs genuinely for the first time in what seems like forever. Maybe she could do this. Maybe, just maybe, she could pick up the pieces and rebuild, reforge.
“It’s about Catra,” she began, “When you first came to Bright Moon you mentioned something about Shadow Weaver being here and how something finally made sense on why Catra was acting the way she was. And how you leaving would hurt her even more.” Scorpia winced at that last bit. Adora continued. “What...exactly did you mean by that?”
Scorpia pressed her lips into a line, racing thoughts apparent in her eyes. She didn’t know how to say something like this, so she figured she’d start by telling her some of the things that happened after she left.
“Right after Catra came back from some First One’s tech retrieval mission, I noticed something was different about her. She looked like...like a part of her was just gone. I mean, Catra rarely goes to sleep right after coming back from a mission, but that time she just turned and left.” Adora knew exactly what she was talking about. “I knew something was wrong but I didn’t know what. Then Hordak gave us permission to use the Black Garnet and yadda yadda, but Shadow Weaver attacked us and boy, that magic was painful.” Adora winced. She knew that too. “But Catra ended up clawing off the little gem on her mask that connected her to the runestone and had me put her in a prison cell.”
Adora’s eyes grew wide; Catra beat Shadow Weaver? She knew the feline was strong, but facing the sorceress, in the chamber where most of the torment took place no less, and coming out on top? Adora couldn’t help but feel a mixture of pride and sadness. Catra never needed me.
“Anyway, once I threw her into prison, which by the way, was pretty freaking awesome, I mean come on, Shadow Weaver’s kind of— oh, right. Sorry,” she frowned as Adora smiled once again. “Where was I? Oh, right! I threw her into prison, actually, it was more like I gently placed her down because even though she was awful she’s still a person and then that’s when the Battle of Bright Moon stuff happened and yea the mission was technically a failure, but Entrapta convinced Hordak otherwise and he ended up promoting Catra to second in command! Whoa, that was a lot!”
Scorpia swept a stray hair from her face, wiped the sweat off her brow, and continued. “Anyway, she kept visiting Shadow Weaver and then Hordak ended up asking her why she hadn’t been sent to Beast Island yet and you know, I figured Catra of all people would be overjoyed but instead she looked...sad? I asked her about it and she told me I wouldn’t understand, which she was absolutely right because I mean, Shadow Weaver was horrible to her! But then Shadow Weaver ended up tricking her and escaping and...Hordak found out and had her imprisoned so she could wait for her punishment.”
Adora’s neutral expression quickly turned into one of guilt. Scorpia looked like she wanted to stop talking, which tipped her off that her story was about to get a lot worse; Scorpia loved talking. Adora motioned over to a bench on the side of the training grounds, where they sat and continued their conversation. “And then what happened?”
Scorpia couldn’t look her in the eyes. She didn’t want to. The buried resentment was seeping out. She couldn’t let it. She knew it wasn’t Adora’s fault, but a small part of her still blamed her for abandoning Catra and leaving her in Shadow Weaver’s clutches. She took a deep breath and reluctantly continued.
“I tried to break her out. She called me stupid and said some other mean things. But I saw right through it. Wildcat tries to act like she doesn’t care. Tries...anyway, Hordak was going to send her to Beast Island to make an example out of her, but Entrapta convinced him to let her hunt down First One’s tech in the Crimson Waste.” Oh.
So that’s why Catra was there.
It was all starting to make sense. It didn’t make it okay by any means; even Adora knew the way Catra treated her after that fateful day in Thaymore wasn’t right. But it was all starting to make sense.
“Anyway that’s when we figured out you were also in the Crimson Waste and right after we kidnapped you, sorry for that by the way, our new gang threw her a party. Neither of us knew what a party was but boy was it fun! It was the first time I’ve ever seen her happy, actually.” Adora’s heart broke. Not because she knew that Catra’s moments of true happiness were fleeting and incredibly rare. No, Adora’s heart broke because she realized right then what made her snap.
It’s not my fault, it’s not my fault, it’s not my fault…
‘If you hadn’t been the world’s worst She-Ra…’
‘If you hadn’t come through that portal…’
It’s not my fault, it’s not my fault, it’s not my fault, she made her choice, she has to live with it.
Not my fault.
Adora stood without warning. Shadow Weaver tricked her former friend and came straight to Bright Moon; she realized what that revelation must have looked like to Catra. Whatever faint embers rested in her gut were fanning into a full-blown wildfire made of resentment and fury. They were doomed from the start. Shadow Weaver always controlled them. Even when they were miles apart she somehow managed to keep both of them under her thumbs. She thought about what Scorpia said earlier about the universe always wanting to rip them apart. It dawned on her then that even that night in the Crystal Castle they had been nothing but marionettes, controlled in a long, neverending series of cracks specifically engineered to turn into irreparable rifts.
They were never meant to win. The universe made sure of that.
I don’t get to have what I want.
“Adora?”
Scorpia was standing now. Adora hadn’t noticed. She knew Scorpia had more to add, but frankly, she heard all that she’d needed to hear. All she could bear to hear. She was tired.
“Scorpia,” she said, “Thank you. I know you probably have more to tell me but I think that’s probably all I can handle today. I’m sorry—” she was cut off as Scorpia picked her up and hugged her so tightly she thought her eyes would pop out of their sockets.
Regaining their composure, the two princesses stared at one another, a newfound look of understanding on both of their faces. In a strange way, she was relieved. Hearing all of those horrible things that happened to her ex-best friend wasn’t pleasant, but she was relieved that even after she turned against the Horde, Catra still found someone who cared enough to stick with her until the very end, to look after her and be there for her in some ways that even Adora couldn’t. They both nodded in silence as they began going their separate ways. Before she had gone too far ahead, Scorpia spoke up again.
“Adora, can I ask you one last thing?” Adora nodded, curiosity written on her face. “Do you think Catra is evil?” The question took Adora by surprise.
The fact that she hesitated to answer bothered her. It really bothered her.
“I don’t know,” she began, “I don’t know what good or evil means anymore. I don’t know if there’s a difference between acting out of cruelty or acting out of hurt and being desperate if they both lead to the same thing.” She paused and massaged her palm with her thumb. “Am I evil for being the key to a weapon that could destroy everything? Even if it isn’t my choice?” Scorpia stumbled. She definitely did not see that coming.
“Adora, you’re the furthest thing from evil besides hugs,” she smiled. “And kitties. But you know, I’ll tell you one thing. You aren’t evil. Neither is Catra. I know she isn’t. She can’t be.”
“How can you be so sure?” You never did have too much faith in me.
“Because if she is...and if she’s gone,” she pauses and takes a deep breath. “I don’t know if I could live with myself letting the person she became be the last memory people have of her.”
I’m going to try to remember the good things about you, instead of the bad ones. Because those break my heart.
“You’re right. She can’t be evil,” she took Scorpia by surprise with a small bittersweet smile. So this was faith.
“And how are you so sure?”
Adora’s expression tightens, her fists clenched.
“Because if she is, then all of this was for nothing.”
-
Her conversation with Scorpia was all she thought about for the next week. At the time she had no idea whether Catra was still with the Horde, or what was left of it, or if she had gone into hiding following the Rebellion’s short-lived victory. She didn’t even know if Catra was still alive. She had been tempted to ask Shadow Weaver to do a location spell to find her sooner, but, well, it was Shadow Weaver, and the last thing she wanted was to make the sorceress feel needed. Shadow Weaver was still controlling her and she hated it. She thought about asking Micah, but he was still recovering from years of isolation on Beast Island and from knowing his daughter was taken prisoner on a spaceship that no one knew how to even get to. In the end, she gave in and asked the shadow sorceress herself.
Learning that Catra was no longer ‘on this plane of existence’ had stirred something in her. Though she knew what the words implied, she had a hard time believing them. Catra didn’t survive years of the Horde just to perish in some ruins. She didn’t endure everything she did just to die alone. No, Catra couldn’t be gone. She refused to believe it. Catra was a survivor.
So this is faith, huh?
Scorpia’s words gave her a sense of newfound hope— the most she’d felt since the portal incident. She was still incredibly angry, frustrated and hurt. She still had nightmares about their final confrontation in the alternate reality; nightmares about that corrupted, hate-filled creature from the void weaponizing every insecurity and doubt she had. That wasn’t her Catra.
Hearing Shadow Weaver eagerly implying Catra was gone had only fueled her determination and faith. Shadow Weaver wanted Catra gone. That could have only meant one thing.
Her Catra was out there.
She made her way to the training grounds before anyone else was awake, determined to get a good workout in before going about her business for the day. She would never make it there, however, as a certain purple-haired princess dropped down in front of her from above.
“ADORA! Just the person I was looking for!” How in the Horde did Entrapta have this much energy and how long had she been up?! Adora had no time to think about that.
“Morning,” she sighed, “Something you need to tell me?”
Entrapta’s grin faded away. “Yes, actually. Bow and I reverse engineered the signal from Catra’s old badge and, well—” Adora snatched the tracker pad before the scientist could protest. Her hopeful expression turned into one of fear. “T-this can’t be right. How is it still tracing her to the Fright Zone? Didn’t Scorpia already look?” Something about this wasn’t sitting right with her. Shadow Weaver implying she was dead, Catra’s badge being traced to Hordak’s Sanctum; was this what she thought it meant? Was she wrong to have faith? No, Adora wouldn’t give up so easily. She would just have to go and search for the feline herself.
She needed to find Bow.
“Have you seen Bow? I wanna try something, but I need him,” she started. Before Entrapta could answer, she heard a familiar, taunting voice.
“Hey, Adora.”
Catra?! No, that was impossible, Catra couldn’t be here in Bright Moon. Everything points to her being somewhere near the Fright Zone. How could she be here without anyone noticing?
“You need to learn to relax darling,” the voice taunted, “you might hurt yourself thinking too hard.” Their smug expression quickly gave them away and Adora wasn’t having any of it.
“Just get to the point, Double Trouble,” Adora retorted. Oh, she was definitely not having any of it. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot in annoyance.
“Well, I’ve been watching you go absolutely crazy over not knowing what happened to our dear old kitten. It was fun while it lasted, but I’m getting bored so I guess I’ll just tell you what I know,” they said with a devious smile. “The last time I saw her she wasn’t looking too hot. Especially after my little pep-talk,” Double Trouble said as they took the form of Adora. “You know, she really was obsessed with you. I knew that power wasn’t what she really wanted, but I still don’t think she realizes that what she really wanted wasn’t a ‘what’ at all.” They snickered and pranced down the corridor. “Anyway, I don’t know where she went afterward. I do know that the Fright Zone was an absolute wreck after her and Hordak’s fight. Who knew giant laser cannons could be so scary!” They gave Adora one last mischevious look, “Guess I should’ve tried a different distraction.” Double Trouble took their true form, leaving a stunned and devastated Adora.
No, don’t listen to them. They don’t know any more than you do. They’ve lied to you before.
Adora refused to give in to doubt. She wouldn’t leave Catra behind again. She wouldn’t give up on her. They had so many issues to work through, so many feelings to untangle, so much unresolved tension. But she still had faith.
“So anyway, Bow went to his room the last time I saw him!” Entrapta’s voice brought her back to reality.
“Thanks, Entrapta. Can you give us the coordinates for Catra’s tracker?” The purple-haired princess latched onto the support beams above them and made her way to her lab, albeit in an unconventional fashion; that was just Entrapta. Before vanishing, she gave Adora a smile almost as wide as when she got to tinker with Mara’s ship. “Already way ahead of you! I sent them to yours and Bow’s tracker pads. You should get going in case something interferes with the signal though!”
Adora looked up at the princess in relief. I missed her, she thought. “Thank you, Entrapta.”
-
She pounded on Bow’s door.
Come on Bow, please open up.
After a minute, the door opened and a disheveled and sleepy Bow emerged. “Adora? Hi,” he yawned and smiled in confusion. “What’s going on?”
Adora showed him the tracker pad and the coordinates and Bow immediately recognized what this was about.
“Catra’s signal stops in Hordak’s Sanctum. I’ll go with you to take another look, but I already told you that I didn’t see her at all when I went back for Glimmer,” he shook his head and sighed in defeat, remembering that his best friend, his partner, had slipped right through his fingers.
“I know and I trust you, Bow. But I want— no, I need to take a look for myself,” she nodded, “I can’t leave her again.”
He nodded, “I know. Let’s get our stuff. I’ll let Micah and Perfuma know where we’re going.”
Adora tenderly took Bow’s hand in her own. She didn’t know what she did to deserve such supportive friends.
“Thank you, Bow.”
I hope you’re okay, Catra.