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For the first time in years, Catra was fighting with Adora.
It wouldn’t be the end of their relationship. They’d been through way worse. But after being the happy couple for so long (and happy mothers for four years), fighting again reminded Catra of worse times. And a worse her.
“They asked for our help,” Adora said. “They need our help.”
“That’s not the point!” Catra pointed at the strategy table. “We’re over here. They’re over there. Even if we could teleport all the way to the other end of the galaxy—” She paused and looked across the table at Glimmer, who shook her head. “—we need more than just ships. We need supply lines, infrastructure, a local base - we can’t just take off right now before we figure this out.”
“We can figure all that out on the way,” Adora said. “I mean, we can’t teleport all the way to the other end of the galaxy, right? We have time.”
“And if we can’t figure it out?” Catra asked. “And we end up in the middle of nowhere with no food and fuel?”
“We’ll figure it out. Worst case, we can do it ourselves.” Adora walked around the table, to where she had set up a bunch of Horde clone figurines. “Mara’s ship is the fastest we have. I can go first, meet up with the local resistance, and capture a groundside base. It should have food and fuel too, if we need it. That way we’ll be ready for the rest of the fleet when they get there.”
“No,” Catra said. “You’re not jumping into the middle of the Horde by yourself.”
“I won’t be by myself. We need a small team. Small enough to fit onto Mara’s ship.” Adora looked over at Glimmer, and Bow beside her, and smiled at them. “I can think of a few people.”
Catra shook her head irritatedly. “The Horde’s not what it used to be, but that doesn’t mean we can just walk in with a ‘few people’ and expect everything to go well.”
“We beat Horde Prime with just a few people,” Adora pointed out.
“Yeah, and the Heart of Etheria,” Catra shot back. “You want to turn this planet around and shoot the death beam? Be my guest.”
Adora had no response, but she wasn’t backing down. Catra could see it in her eyes. It made her angry, too angry. She had to stop herself and take a deep breath before it got worse.
“Well,” Adora said, eventually, “even if it doesn’t work out, we can hold our own long enough for the fleet to get there.”
The anger started to come back again. “Why? Why do you think that?” Catra asked.
“Because we’re the Best Friends Squad. There’s nothing we can’t do when we’re all together.” Adora smiled a beautiful, yet simultaneously infuriating smile. Catra had learned to recognise it. It was the smile she did when she was totally confident of something and was now trying to come up with the badass one-liners to follow. Usually it was endearing, but right now it was getting on Catra’s nerves. She had to take another deep breath.
“Yes, we haven’t lost yet. Which is honestly amazing with how much stupid stuff we’ve done.” Catra put her hand on the Etheria side of the table. “But there’s a first time for everything, and if we keep being stupid it won’t take long. If we’re going to lose we have to do it when we can get backup.” She hesitated, and then finished, “And anyway… I’m not going.”
“You’re not—” Adora’s smile disappeared, and it gave Catra a guilty sense of satisfaction. “Why?”
“Uh, because we have a kid to take care of?” Catra smiled a thin smile. “It would be great if their other mom was around to take care of them too, but I guess that’s too much to ask for.”
“That’s not fair!” Adora slammed her hands down on the table, making the figurines bounce. “You know I care about Finn. But they’re doing alright, we won’t be gone for long, and this is so, so important. People are dying. People are going to die.”
“You are going to die if you do the stupid thing you want to do,” Catra snapped. “Then what is Finn going to do? What am I going to do?”
Adora’s eyes softened. “Catra…”
“Look, I…” Catra exhaled frustratedly. “We don’t need a vanguard. We’ll just have the fleet. We’ll stop over here,” she pointed to a cluster of dots near the Horde figurines, “and set up a base. We’ll ask them for supplies, scout whatever’s nearby, and then we’ll attack.”
A pause. Then, quietly, Adora asked, “How long will that take?”
“I don’t know,” Catra said. “Distance-wise, probably two months. Prep time will take maybe a week or two, but it depends who’s willing to give us food and fuel.”
Adora forced a smile. “I mean, we saved them before, right? In the uh, the… that adventure we had?”
“Yeah.” Catra sat down. “Just before we got Finn.”
There was a long silence. Eventually, Bow cleared his throat and tentatively began, “Now that we’ve all calmed down, maybe we should—”
“I’m sorry, Catra, I have to go,” Adora blurted out.
“No, you don’t,” Catra said.
“I do. I can’t just sit back and watch them die.” Adora began pacing again. “Mara’s ship is twice as fast as the bigger ones. If I can get there a month early, I can save more people. Maybe I can use Mara’s ship to evacuate all the people who can’t fight, and—”
“When did this become ‘I’?” Catra stood up again, her tail twitching involuntarily. “What about Bow and Glimmer?”
“They’ll be there, obviously. I mean, if they want to.” Adora smiled shakily at them. “But I mean, if they don’t want to, it’s okay.”
“Because you’ll still go, won’t you?” Catra asked. “Even if it’s just you.”
“... Yeah,” Adora said.
“It’s not—it’s not your duty to save them,” Catra said.
“I know,” Adora said. “This isn't about my duty. I want to help people. I want to save people. This is what I want.”
“Do you want Finn to grow up without you?” Catra shouted. It was sharper than she’d intended, and she hadn’t even finished the sentence before she began to regret it. But it was too late, and she didn’t back down.
Glimmer stood up. “Catra, that’s not fair.”
“That is fair,” Catra hissed. “Because if Adora won’t even consider the worst case scenario, then she should maybe think about it a little more!”
“I have! I have thought about it,” Adora shouted back. She lifted her hand to massage her head. “But it won’t happen. She-ra—”
“She-ra isn’t invincible,” Catra countered.
“We’ve been fighting the Horde for years,” Adora answered. “I know how to fight them. Everything they’ve thrown at us, we figured out a way to beat.”
“And I guess the Horde just won’t invent new weapons. Or won’t come up with new ways to use the ones they have.” Catra folded her arms. “And I guess you’ll beat them every time? I guess you’ll never make a mistake? Because trust me,” she clenched her fist, her claws jabbing into her skin, “mistakes are easy to make.”
“I won’t.” Adora looked at the Horde figurines. “And if I do, I’ll have a backup plan.”
“You can have every plan in the universe, but shit. Happens.” Catra leaned heavily on the strategy table, her left index finger circling Etheria. “It’s when things go wrong that you make the biggest mistakes. Trust me, I’ve made enough of them to know.”
Something in Adora’s eyes shifted, but her stance didn’t. “It all worked out in the end.”
“So everything will?” Catra hit the table. “You give second chances. The Horde doesn’t.”
“That’s not the point. Mistakes don’t have to be fatal.” Adora picked up one of the Horde figurines and turned it about. “If I make a mistake, my friends will be there to catch me. We protect each other, cover each other's weaknesses. Alone we’re vulnerable, but together we’re unstoppable.” Her voice softened. “Haven’t you noticed?”
“I’ve seen a lot of unstoppable things in my life. None of them really were.” Catra looked up at Adora’s Horde figurine. Made in Hordak’s image, like Hordak himself was made in Prime’s. They were two biggest unstoppables she’d ever known. And Adora, the third, who had come so close to Prime’s fate so many times, wanted again to cast herself into the dark unknown for people she’d never met. And she wanted that over Catra.
That was one thing she herself could never be, Catra supposed. Good. At least, good the way Adora was.
“Don’t do this,” Catra said quietly. “Stay with me. Or stay with the fleet. Just… just don’t do it this way.” Her gaze met Adora’s. “Please.”
Adora broke her gaze with Catra. She didn’t say anything. She just put down the figurine, walked over to her chair, and sat down heavily. Her eyes stayed on the table.
“Okay.” Catra stood up straight and cleared her expression. A small part of her wanted to cry but she wouldn’t give it the satisfaction. “It’s your choice to make. You should make it on your own.”
“Catra…” Adora started.
“Don’t.” Catra turned around and headed for the door. “I’m tired. I’m going to check on Finn and Melog and then I’m going to bed. You all already know what I think, so you can do the meeting fine.”
Bow stood up. “Do you… do you still want dinner?”
“I’ll get my own.” Catra left, shutting the door behind her.
The bed felt empty without Adora.
Catra turned over, squeezed her eyes shut, and pulled the blankets tighter over herself. She was tired, but it was the kind of tired that didn’t let you sleep. Her head was full of thoughts and feelings but she couldn’t focus on any single one. Like a thick haze, it surrounded and suffocated her but when she reached out to grab something there was nothing to take.
She wondered if it would be better if Melog was here. Ever since Finn had come along Melog had been their most active playmate and friend, and Catra was happy to let that happen. Without Adora, though, there was a void that wanted to be filled, and she began to want her old companion back.
But, no. The rational side of Catra knew that Adora would be along, soon, to apologise and then insist on doing the stupid thing she wanted to do anyway. Melog would be nice, but she didn’t want an emotional beacon broadcasting what she was feeling to the world.
Still, it would be nice to figure out what she was feeling for herself.
There was a soft but clear creak from the end of the room, and then the sound of footsteps. Adora’s footsteps, of course. Catra had known the sound of them even from their days in the Horde. The sound meant so many things to her - love, friendship, safety, purpose, but also inferiority, insecurity, jealousy, and hate. It took her time, but she’d finally gotten over it a few years ago. Or she thought she did. Now she wasn’t sure.
“Catra?” Adora asked, softly.
Catra’s head hurt. “Hey Adora,” she said, out of habit more than anything else.
“Are you okay?”
Of course not, you idiot. “Yeah,” Catra said.
Adora sighed. “Okay,” she said. More footsteps, then the bed sank sideways slightly. Catra cracked open one eye. Adora was sitting next to her, a small bag in her hands. Catra shut her eyes again.
“I brought dinner,” Adora said.
“I’m not hungry.”
Adora put the bag aside and scooched a little closer to Catra. Catra could feel her warmth, even through the blanket. She pulled the blanket closer to herself.
“Are you still angry at me?” Adora asked.
“A little,” Catra said.
“I’m sorry.” Adora put her hand on the blanket. She probably thought the sheet lump she was caressing was Catra’s leg, which ordinarily Catra would have laughed at. At least, it made her smile a tiny, tiny smile.
“It’s okay.” Catra meant it, kind of. It wasn’t okay, but she knew she herself was most of the reason why.
“No, it’s not,” Adora said. “I shouldn’t have upset you like that.”
Catra opened her eyes and laughed, though she couldn’t muster much mirth behind it. “And do what, leave without telling me?”
Adora looked aside. “I shouldn’t have pushed so hard, at least.”
“If I get to fight for what I want, you get to too.” Catra freed her hand from the blanket and rested it on Adora’s. “This is what you want, right? It’s not about that duty shit?”
“It’s what I want.” Adora upturned her hand, taking Catra’s in hers. “I want to help.”
Of course she did. Adora couldn’t help being good. She’d always been that way. She left her home for it. Everything she’d known - Catra included.
“Promise?” Catra asked anyway.
“Promise,” Adora said.
For a little while, the two of them sat in silence. It was a comforting silence, but a pensive one too. Catra knew what was coming next. She didn’t want to deal with it. But it would come anyway. That, too, was the way Adora was.
“If you want me to stay, I will,” Adora said quietly.
“I know,” said Catra.
“I know this is important to you, and I want you to be happy.”
“I know,” said Catra.
“So if you want me to stay… just tell me, and I’ll stay.”
So in the end, if anyone was to take away what Adora wanted, it would have to be Catra. Fitting, Catra considered gloomily. After all the times she’d done it before, why not once more?
But Catra was no longer that person. That was probably what Adora was counting on, however subconsciously. She wanted Catra to give her permission to go, so she could get what she wanted and not have to feel bad about it. And Catra would give that to her, because she loved Adora, and because she was good now.
Well, she was wrong about one of those things. Catra wasn’t good. She’d leave that entire star system to the Horde if it meant saving Adora. Hell, she’d blow it up herself if that’s what it took. The only reason she would never do that is because she knew Adora would hate her. And more than that, Adora would be heartbroken. Catra couldn’t do that to her. She couldn’t do it to herself, either; she needed Adora, just like how Adora needed to be good.
Would Adora hate her if Catra told her to stay? Catra didn’t know. She probably wouldn’t be happy. She wouldn’t be at peace, either. She’d probably wander around the castle or Mara’s ship or stare up into the sky at night, wondering what would have happened if she went. That thought would consume her until she either reconciled herself to it or she took off without telling anyone, like she did with the Horde. And with Catra.
That thought terrified Catra. She knew it probably wouldn’t happen, not again. This was a different time. They were different people. That was so long ago. And yet, Catra knew, that part of Adora that compelled her to leave was as much a part of her as anything could be.
What if Catra let Adora leave? Catra wanted to say she would probably be fine, but the truth was that she didn’t know. Maybe it would be a walk in the park. Maybe she was walking into a firing squad. It was impossible to know. If Adora didn’t come back, could Catra accept it?
No, she couldn’t. She really couldn’t. She wouldn’t allow it, not as long as she lived.
There was nothing to it, then. There was only one thing Catra could do.
“Go,” Catra said.
Adora squeezed her hand. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Catra said. “But I’m coming with you.”
“What?” Adora looked taken aback. “What about Finn?”
“They’ll be fine with one of the princesses while we’re gone,” Catra said. “But we are leaving the moment the rest of the fleet gets there. No excuses. Okay?”
“Okay,” Adora said.
“Three months. One month getting there, one month getting back, one month of me trying to keep us all alive. That’s it.” Catra clambered up into a sitting position and jabbed her finger into Adora’s chest. “I’m not making Finn wait any longer for us to get back.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine.” Adora leaned forward and took Catra into a big bear hug.
“One more thing you have to promise me,” Catra said.
“Anything,” Adora said.
“If I die, you get the hell out of there and come back home.”
Adora’s hug got tighter. “Catra…”
“Don’t make Finn lose two moms.” Catra put her hands on Adora’s shoulders and pushed her away gently. “Promise me.”
Adora swallowed. “I… I promise.”
Catra nodded and brought her back into the hug. “Thank you.”
“I love you,” Adora said.
Catra sighed. “I love you too, you dummy.”
That was going to be the death of her one day. Possibly one day soon. But that was okay. She would die a thousand times over if she got to stay with Adora to the end. There was nothing else she could ever want.
Catra spent the rest of the night that way, wrapped in Adora’s embrace.