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The first time?
It was morning, very early on.
Adora had started a game of tag with Lonnie and Kyle. Contrary to popular belief, sometimes Horde children were permitted to have fun.
Just...
Only when the focus was on Adora.
Shadow Weaver watched them play. Catra looked at her supposed mentor with hope, perhaps even belief that she might be allowed to join, only to receive a firm shake of the head. That was the first time something like that happened, and it would not be the last.
Eventually, the other three youngsters left the room to go somewhere with more space.
Left.
For somewhere more fun. Somewhere better.
Catra ran too. She sprinted in the exact opposite direction of everyone else, deep into the bowels of the Fright Zone. There, she found that darkest of spaces, and possibly the only thing Catra could truly call her own. It served as a place to deal with the injustice of the world.
That spot became a staple in Catra's life, the only place for her to hide when she felt that burn.
That anger.
So much anger at everything.
Back then, Catra wasn't even sure what the word meant.
She wasn't sure what she was feeling when she first gripped her scalp and sunk to the floor of the closet. She clamped down hard on her tongue, razor teeth both fueling and stifling her furious sobs. It was as if the world had stopped, and when she finally rejoined the rest of the young cadets - it turned back on, normal as ever.
Adora hadn't noticed it at all that day.
It didn't take long before she did, however. Because that's Adora. She always worked that way.
It was afternoon, in the mess hall.
Adora had tried to invite Catra over to eat with her new friends, but Catra didn't want them. She didn't want their jokes or their games. She didn't want anything to do with what they represented. She wanted Adora.
Only Adora.
Adora, who apparently wanted to leave and be with other people. Better people. Catra had hissed, holding back burning tears before determinedly storming off to the edge of the room to eat alone.
Of course, Adora didn't allow that to happen. She was tuned in enough by then. She followed Catra, silently sat next to her, then leaned close so their shoulders touched as they ate. Despite the gesture, Catra was too livid to look at Adora.
Rational or not, that horrible feeling had become an established theme.
A constant.
Even when things were good...
She was terrified that Adora would leave, find someone new.
Terrified that she might be replaced.
And that fear never disappeared, at least not during their time in the Horde.
It was evening, during training.
A fellow cadet had broken their ankle, something that was never supposed to happen. It did though, especially when Shadow Weaver was present. Catra felt lucky she hadn't been hurt yet, perhaps the biggest perk of her agility. After much irritation, Shadow Weaver begrudgingly admitted that medical treatment might be necessary.
Adora volunteered to help the injured cadet to sick bay. Catra's response was surprising, as she offered to help too. Perhaps it was kindness, or maybe it was only to be alone with Adora on the walk back, but the reason wasn't important. Catra extended herself that day. So, imagine the shock to her system when she was shot down - and not by the usual suspect.
"It's okay, I've got it. Hey, don't look at me like that. I'm not leaving forever. Let's meet at the bunks? I've got a surprise for you!
Adora's smile didn't matter. Her kind words didn't matter, because when she left, the uncontrollable burn came back with a vengeance. Catra didn't go to bed until late that night, choosing instead to hide in that closet for hours. Unsurprisingly, Adora waited for her. But when Catra returned, she curled up at her friend's feet without a word - and without the part of herself she'd explored earlier in the evening. She had thrown it away, or so she believed at the time.
She never did find out the surprise Adora had planned for her, and she never did volunteer again.
There was simply that much rage.
Adora was too good. Catra had the growing suspicion that Adora was destined for something better. That no matter how many plans they made, that someday, Catra might actually be alone.
Nevertheless, just as she was about to fall into sleep, there had been a hesitant pat on her head. Maybe something to ease the pain - something to assure Catra that Adora was, in fact, there.
It was a comforting gesture, and one that worked for a while. It held it all at bay. Several years passed by before Catra was jarringly reminded that Adora was not always there, not even during the supposed safety of sleep.
It was night, in the bunk room.
For once, everyone knows much of this story. The details were clear even then. Adora had tried and failed to sneak away into the darkness. She'd come back, except she didn't. Not for a very, very long time.
She left for a better world.
And Catra was left waiting, stranded. She had never been so incensed. Every rage prior suddenly felt miniscule in comparison to this betrayal - which to be fair, they were. That bitter pain stuck to Catra's tongue in a way that would not release, so she tore Adora's sheets, and whenever she could find privacy, strips of cold metal from the walls.
All that, but it was never enough to satiate her. None of it made up for Adora leaving. None of it softened the pain of Catra staying.
It was then Catra realized anger wasn't all there was in her heart.
One time, and only once, she gave into that completely. No ripping. No tearing. No screaming. Catra simply curled up on Adora's destroyed bed and sobbed. The heat sparked afterwards, but it was then that she understood what the racing in her chest meant.
And when Catra woke up alone in their shared bed? For a brief moment, she feared Adora didn't understand what it meant, at least not to Catra.
It was dawn, the morning after their wedding.
She had reached blindly out into nothingness, and when nothingness came? The anger came with.
Adora was gone, again.
That almost forgotten fire roared in Catra's chest. Every muscle in her body shook, and her heart felt as if it was going to explode.
She was vulnerable. How could Catra have let that happen?
It built and built.
What could Adora possibly think was better the day after they got married?
Threatening everything.
Then Adora came in with breakfast, looking like the sun itself. The anger left in an instant - replaced with familiar guilt. Adora kissed that guilt away until late morning, never moving more than a foot away. They whispered under the covers for hours. Skin on skin. Love on love.
Adora insisted that she was going to show her everything, and Catra had laughed. Everything was already there. Wasn't it?
But no, Adora was adamant.
She was going to show Catra everything about Brightmoon. The first thing was some dumb little spot by the treeline - apparently, it was simply idyllic in Autumn. She swore there was something about it. Maybe it was the leaves. Something about how they changed color.
No, Adora could never quite phrase it right, but that was okay. By that point in the conversation, Catra truly believed that Adora had built the whole world for them, and them alone.
That she would never leave forever.
The truth didn't matter, not on that day.
Because soon enough, Catra found herself unable to contain her smile. She decided she would never really be angry again.
So she wasn't.
Not even yesterday, and it was yesterday that she faced hard reality.
Catra had knelt as close as she could bear without breaking down, all to tell Adora that she was sorry for ever being angry.
That she finally understood that sometimes… People leave, and that leaving doesn't take away love.
Then, she told Adora that she was always right, especially those times when she was actually wrong.
She told her she'd take care of Finn, and not to worry.
She told her she would visit every day.
Once she had made every possible promise under the sun that she could, Catra brushed red-orange leaves away. Then, she steadied her hands to place the bouquet on the headstone. It was hard to pull away from that cold white marble. She had hoped if she lingered long enough, Adora's warmth might radiate from somewhere within.
It didn't, but that didn't make her angry. Because she'd already been given all the loving warmth in the world. With its help, she'd found a better person within herself. Made a better person.
"Thank you for the best three years of my life. I love you… Goodbye, Adora."
Catra only wished she could give a little of that warmth back.