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The first time she sees her, Catra's settled against her thighs, one ear pressed to Adora's stomach.
Here. Adora.
"Hey, Adora."
Adora's eyes are shiny and blue as ever and her arms as strong as Catra remembers them. Adora pulls Catra towards her chest and all she can do is clutch at her jacket and press her nose to Adora's hair.
She smells the same even after all the haze and war.
Catra swears the flutter in her heart is just the chip.
*
Green. Little Sister. Catra. Prime. Painpainpain.
Her eyes open and her teeth clack at her jaw snapping shut.
Nightmares are okay- she's dealt with more than a few, but she'll never admit that almost all of them are about Adora. Catra sits back and pulls at her hair - oh. It's short.
That's fine - milder than having your claws pulled off and bloody. She knows from the torture training, courtesy of the Horde.
Then: light, warm and sudden and Adora of all people standing in the doorway. Catra's stomach flips but she pushes it right down again. This is the second time in a few hours she's gotten to see her; if Catra's lucky for once, Adora won't be a hallucination.
Adora walks over, sits on the cot and goes to put a hand on Catra's shoulder as she turns away.
Adora suggests taking the chip off, and there's nothing Catra wants more than Prime's influence gone, but she's not worthy of that. She's only a solider and Adora should drop her off on whatever planet is closest. Catra doesn't need them. (They don't need her.)
The argument is over once Adora fucking flips Catra's mattress.
They shout until Adora says "I never hated you." And god isn't she pretty, eyebrows furrowed and set deep over her eyes. Catra can only see blue.
It's only after a few seconds that Catra registers what Adora said. It's too good to be true. She turns away and waits for Not-Adora to leave her alone again.
*
The third time Catra sees Adora, Entrapta arrives behind her, with her annoying voice and her annoying hair and stupid mask.
Catra doesn't want Entrapta near her: she knows how loyalty is fickle and rots as quick as the food back at the Horde. Adora tells her that they're being tracked through the chip and Catra can only back up against the metal wall. Adora pins her hand against it and her voice is as strong as steel when she tells Catra that they're removing the chip one way or another.
It's definitely not the time to let her mind grow dizzy and warm.
Catra slides down the wall as Adora suggests that she'll drop Catra off on some planet and her heart gets a little dimmer when Adora turns away.
"Adora, wait."
Catra reaches for Adora's arm, wiry and solid with muscle, and slides her own hand down to Adora's. It's rough and marked with little scars, and Catra's hand tightens against it, just to make sure she's really there.
"Please. Stay."
Adora stays. For once. Catra pretends Adora's worry doesn't shoot straight to her core.
-
After a hand on a shoulder and Adora's eyes looking so goddamn earnest Catra tells her what happens with the clones and their hive mind. They don't take the chip out after all.
*
Catra's going home. Adora promised. That's how Catra knows.
*
The fourth time Adora's actually in front of her, she sits on the floor among Adora's little group.
Best Friend Sqaud - pfft. Catra can't help but hold in a scoff every time she hears it.
As she eats her Little-Pouchy-Meaty-Thing, she spots Adora looking right at her with a smile.
The one where she smiles with her eyes more than her mouth. A private smile that only Catra knows.
Catra ducks her head back down and keeps feeling fuzzy long into the night.
*
Catra makes a bold move dropping right into Adora's lap. It's fine- Catra's never been one for subtlety.
Adora flushes.
Ohmygod she's adorable.
Ha, Adora-ble. It's meant to be apparently. That joke is not new to Catra.
Catra smirks up at Adora and she only gets more cross. Catra worries whether it's real and she's stepped over a line, but Adora goes back to She-Ra-ing.
Catra slides off of Adora's lap and sits on the windowsill of a whole-ass spaceship.
Space isn't what she imagined. It's emptier than she would've thought from all the stars that dotted the edges of every horizon.
She thinks she's ready to be home.
Until she can't be.
*
Catra can't believe that Adora is reckless enough to let Catra make a plan to get through the blockade.
Doesn't she know not to trust an ex-enemy after one militaristic agenda has collapsed and another is in the process of killing everyone?
Oh well, Catra supposes that Adora is a lot purer than she is.
-
Catra's forced to wear a stupid helmet with dumb ears and even dumber gloves that don't let her claws through.
When she tugs the fucking thing off she has to take a deep breath 'cause Adora's giggling.
Adora sighs at the end of it and it's all Catra can do to not melt into a fucking puddle and she's so mad because this shouldn't be-
Anyway.
Entrapta shrieks and they all jump.
-
When Catra finds Melog, she finally has someone to relate to.
Melog has been alone for a long time, longer than Catra's been alive and they've seen so much death and fire at the hands of Prime.
They each pledge to make Prime pay.
(It also doesn't hurt to tell Melog everything, especially when they can't tell anyone Catra's secrets.)
*
Melog brings the ship past the blockade and Catra has never been more grateful. She looks down and sees Adora's hand holding Catra's.
It's pale and rough and warm and comfortable and Catra gets mad because she is not friends with Adora. She isn't anything with Adora.
Ugh.
-
They hang above Bright Moon to make sure there aren't any ground troops patrolling.
Catra keeps her eyes to Melog and her back to the wall in her room. It isn't as dark as it used to be, with Melog's blue glow shifting with their breathing.
Catra is left to her own and for the first time, she's able to think without having to worry about intruders or traitors or AdoraisnotsafeAdoraisdead.
So she thinks, long and hard about how much her life has flipped on a dime. Her new friends; She doesn't think that Bow and Glimmer mind her too much but decides she should stay wary. Just in case. She thinks about Melog, the only one in this whole universe that she doesn't hesitate with and it's hardly been a day.
Catra counts her losses: her teammates from the Horde, her usefulness, her status in the hierarchy and her claim to power. Her hair, as dumb as it sounds. But she settles at the fact that maybe she might win more than lose.
She thinks about Adora, in all her shiny, self-sacrificing glory. The way she always insisted to have the poof at the crown of her head. Her shoulders- how sculpted and angular they are. The way her hips turn into her legs just so and the line of muscle in her neck when she turns. The way she only ever stands two ways: with her hip cocked to the left or stance wide with her hands clenched. The belt at her waist that shifts with her hips.
Her smile, her smirk, her dark eyebrows set over a strong brow line and bright eyes, the way her jaw sets when she decides something, the muscle that jumps above her temple when she thinks and the way she looks at Catra.
Like she's worth all the trouble they've been through.
Fuck. I think I like you.