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Space is quiet, and space is cold.
It’s quiet, and it’s cold, and it’s empty. So much of space travel is just traveling through the endless void, planets and stars so unfathomably far away it’s as though they never existed at all, outside their faint and twinkling light.
Catra has experienced it before, of course. She had been beamed up into Prime’s ship, and held prisoner there, even as she told herself she wasn’t. She’d been chipped, and rescued, and tagged along through space with Adora and her friends as they made their way back to Etheria. But that time, her head had been so full of memories of the Hivemind and the rush of being near Adora again that she didn’t really have time to think about it.
She does now, and she wraps her arms around herself as she remembers what it reminds her of. Space is not the first void she’s travelled.
“Don’t touch me!” she shouted, all of eight years old. “Adora, Adora, where are you?!”
“Adora isn’t here,” Shadow Weaver snarled, grabbing her arm. “You can’t drag her into your messes today. You are going to learn to sit still and be quiet. You will learn your place. ”
“No!” Catra yelled. “No, I won’t! I didn’t do anything! I thought it was Adora, I didn’t mean to knock Lonnie down when I jumped on her!”
“You would have knocked Adora down then.” Shadow Weaver loomed over her, threatening. “And that is even worse. Do you think I would keep you around long, if anything happened to her?”
Catra knew she wouldn’t. She remembered all too well Shadow Weaver’s threat to “dispose” of her, after she had caught her and Adora in the Black Garnet chamber. It haunted her nightmares, Adora leaving and Shadow Weaver’s darkness consuming her whole.
Shadow Weaver must have seen the look on her face. “That’s right, I wouldn’t. And now, you’ll have a little taste of what waits for you the second Adora comes to her senses.”
Shadows closed in around Catra, the darkness complete. Her sharp eyes, usually able to pick up the finest details even at night, saw nothing. She heard nothing, felt nothing, smelled nothing. It was cold, and she was for the first time in her life completely and utterly alone. Adora would never find her here.
She screamed, and screamed, and no one heard.
Right now Catra’s eyes see nothing, even as she looks out the viewport in the control center into space. The stars might as well not be there at all. She’s dead, Catra tells herself. She’s dead, and she’s never coming back, and she can’t hurt you anymore.
Even the last thing Shadow Weaver had said had hurt her. I’m so proud of you, Catra. The one thing Catra had spent her entire life wanting to hear, even as she denied it to herself. The only thing she had wanted more was Adora’s love (and she’d denied that even further). The question of whether or not the pride and affection was sincere has been tormenting Catra for months.
If it was Adora she would have meant it, Catra knows. She always meant it for Adora, the favorite, the one she always wanted. Catra was nothing, other than a blemish on Adora’s spotless record. Had she said it just to be sure Catra would persevere to the end, to make sure Catra would see to it that Adora fulfilled her destiny and returned the magic to Etheria? Had it been just one last manipulation? Or had she finally, finally seen what Catra was worth?
Catra will never, ever know. She wishes she didn’t care.
She shivers. She shouldn’t be here, all alone in the control center. She should be in bed with Adora, warm and safe. But tonight she had laid in bed next to her for hours unsleeping, and when she could no longer stand to be alone next to someone else, she escaped for a truer isolation.
Shadow Weaver is not the only darkness space reminds her of. There has been so much of it in her life. The portal…
The world was ending, and Catra along with it. The cliff crumbled, and she fell into the abyss. It hurt , the energy burning her, sapping everything she was away. There was blinding light everywhere, so dark it forced her vision back into the darkness of blindness. No, not just light blinding her, darkness was spreading, first her hand, then her arm, every nerve alight as it spread. It spread across her face, and she desperately grabbed the cliff she’d just fallen off of, hauling herself up hand over hand, claws digging deep gouges in the rock.
I won’t die without taking Adora with me, she thought savagely. I won’t let her win again. We’ll go out together, just like it was meant to be. Me and her, together forever.
She stumbled her way out of the abyss, breaking into an unsteady run. Half her vision was in shadow. When she touched her face, from her right ear to the bridge of her nose was consumed by entropy. She laughed madly, her voice echoing in her ears. I haven’t been whole since Adora left, Catra thought. Now the whole world will be as empty as me.
When she saw Adora, surrounded by pure light, the world had never been so dark.
Catra shudders. If she had been thinking about going back to Adora before, she couldn’t now. Confronted with the memories of the very worst thing she’s ever done, she can’t can’t go see her. Adora, who saved the world, while Catra was trying to end it. Adora, who saved her in the end, even though she didn’t deserve it.
A tear escapes down her cheek, and Catra wipes it away angrily. What right does she have to cry? It was her fault, her evil, she was not the victim here. Adora should have just left her in the portal and let it eat her whole.
There’s one other thing space reminds her of, and it makes Catra feel colder than the vacuum outside ever could. If the portal had been light that turned her into darkness, then Prime had been the light that sealed her into pitch blackness, never to escape.
“No!” Catra screamed. “No! Kill me! I betrayed you, kill me, don’t make me part of you, don’t make me part of this! I deserve to die! Kill me!”
“Hush child,” Horde Prime said, stroking her newly-shorn hair while they held her down. “Soon you’ll be in my light, whole and happy. Soon, you’ll know peace.”
The chip stabbed into her spine, and Catra’s entire body went tense, a soundless cry of agony escaping her throat. The clones carried her to the pool of green liquid, and threw her in. She sank to the bottom like a stone. Dimly, she can hear chanting, the words muffled through the liquid. Then, a current of electricity thrummed through her body, and a sudden blaze of pain fades to nothingness.
It was quiet, so quiet. Catra had no thoughts, no feelings. Catra had no self, and she was glad. There was nothing left. This was the oblivion Shadow Weaver had always promised her, and there had been no other way her story could end.
Catra realizes she’s hunched over the console, one hand gripping it tightly while the other holds the back of her neck, covering the scar the removal of the chip had left. It takes her longer still to realize what she’s hearing is her own sobbing.
“I’m sorry,” she gasps. “I’m sorry, I deserved it all, Shadow Weaver was right—”
“Catra?” Adora’s voice startles her, and Catra jumps, tail out and bushy, fur standing on end. “Catra, what are you doing here? I woke up, and you were gone.”
Catra doesn’t turn around. She can’t let Adora see her face, slick with tears.
“Hey, Adora.” She tries for casual, and it comes out broken.
“Catra…” Adora whispers, and Catra hears her coming up behind her. One of Adora’s hands lands on her shoulder, turning her around. “Catra, please, what’s going on?”
Now that Catra can see Adora, love and concern written on her face, she can’t bear it. She doesn’t deserve any of it. Not after all the things she’s done.
“Shadow Weaver was right,” she says. “About me. I deserved all the things that happened, I deserved Prime, I don’t deserve you and you should have left me and—”
“ No.” Adora’s voice is hard and angry. “No, how dare you say that? Shadow Weaver was wrong about everything, and you most of all. She tried to keep us apart, she hurt you all our lives, how could you say she was right?”
“Look at what I did!” Catra gestures around, as though the air itself holds her sins. “Look at everything I did to the world! To you. What are you doing here, with me?”
“I’m fixing it,” Adora says. “Here, with you. I’m fixing our world, and what’s between you and me.”
Now Catra is angry. “You’re not supposed to! You always try to fix things, you always play the hero, you can’t fix this! You can’t fix me. ”
Adora sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. She stays quiet so long that Catra thinks about turning around and leaving.
“You’re right,” Adora says, reaching out and touching her arm. “I’m sorry. I always try to fix things, and I have to learn to let you do things on your own, when you need to.”
Catra looks down where Adora’s hand rests on her arm. As quickly as it came, her anger leaves. “Thanks.” She pauses. “You couldn’t fix me if you tried anyway. I don’t know who could.”
“You can.” Adora squeezes. “And I can’t fix you, but I can help. Please, let me help.”
Catra wants to. God, she wants to. But she’s not sure she can while she’s looking Adora in the face. She moves closer, hoping Adora picks up on her unspoken desires.
Adora does, enfolding her in her arms.
“I hate space,” Catra says. “The void of it. It reminds me of Shadow Weaver, and the portal, and Prime.”
Adora’s arms tense around her, and then relax. A conscious decision, if Catra knows Adora, letting go of her own discomfort to comfort her. “Okay. Okay, one at a time. What about Shadow Weaver?”
“Did you ever know what she did to me?” Catra asks, hiding her face in Adora’s neck. “What she really did?”
“I knew she hurt you,” Adora answers. “But I didn’t know how much. I don’t think I wanted to know, because I couldn’t protect you from it, no matter how hard I tried. And I did try, Catra.”
“I know.” Catra squeezes her. “You were just a kid. I can admit that now. But so was I.”
She feels Adora nod above her, and continues. “It didn’t happen often, but sometimes she used her powers. On me. Don’t you remember how I was afraid of the dark until I was like, fourteen? You were the only one that ever knew that, I used to tell you I’d claw your eyes out if anyone else ever found out, but I didn’t mean it.”
“I know.” Adora takes in a breath. “Her powers...Catra, I am so, so sorry. You never deserved that. Never. ”
Catra tries to let herself believe it. “Maybe I didn’t. But maybe I did. What if I turned out the way I did just because it’s me, not because of what Shadow Weaver did to me? What if I was just like this, all along?”
“Like what?” Adora asks. “Like a good person who made a lot of horrible mistakes who’s doing her best to make up for them? Like someone who is forcing themselves to travel somewhere that brings back their worst memories just to bring good back into the universe? Like that?”
“No.” Catra steps back, out of Adora’s arms. She doesn’t look at her. “Like someone who pulled the lever to the portal.”
Adora’s hand twitches, like she’s thinking of reaching out to Catra but realizes she’d just be pushed away. “I won’t lie to you. That’s the worst thing you ever did.” The words hit Catra like a stone. “But I forgive you. I haven’t forgotten, I’ll never forget, but I forgave you for that a long time ago.” She pauses. “I can’t speak for anyone else. But I do know I’m not the only person who loves you.”
“You aren’t?” Catra asks, confused.
Adora laughs. “No, of course not. They don’t let just anyone join the Best Friend Squad, you know.”
Catra scowls to hide the warmth growing inside her. “That’s still a stupid name.”
“Take it up with Bow.” Adora looks at her, then bites her lip. “One thing you said just now scared me. You said you deserved Prime.”
“I…” Catra starts, and then doesn’t know where to finish.
“I was so scared when I found you,” Adora says gently. “Talking about how you were at peace, talking about how I broke your heart and Prime healed it. I was so scared you wouldn’t want to come back to me.”
“ Never, ” Catra says. “I’ll always come back to you. Adora, you’re my home, wherever you are. I was so lost without you.”
“And I was lost without you. You didn’t deserve Prime, Catra, no one does. Even at your worst, you didn’t deserve Prime, or Shadow Weaver, or any of it. I promise, you didn’t, and you don’t.”
Catra takes a shuddering breath, then takes Adora’s hand. “If you tell me enough times,” she says, “maybe I’ll believe it.”
“I’ll tell you a thousand times,” Adora promises. “And then a thousand more. I’ll tell you as many times as it takes, every time you need it. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. Even you can’t push me away.”
“I love you too,” Catra whispers.
“Next time, wake me up.” Adora says while they’re walking back. “No matter how stupid you think it is, wake me up, and I’ll be there.”
They slip into the bed, Adora holding Catra gently. Catra holds her back, clinging to her strong arms, her toned back. Adora has carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, and now she’s using that same strength to carry her. Slowly, surely, Catra drifts off to sleep, comforted by Adora’s steady, even breaths.
Space is quiet, and space is cold, but Adora is warm.