Work Text:
“And then she screamed at me, which was... awful, just awful.” Scorpia shudders, and Perfuma leans forward to rub soothing circles on her back.
“That’s fucked UP,” Adora says, or at least tries to, just to end up yelling halfway.
She’s propping her head up with one hand, elbow resting on her knee. Her eyes, which had been fixated on Scorpia for the duration of her tale, are wide open, as if anything Scorpia has just said about Shadow Weaver’s terrible behavior could have shocked her.
It doesn’t shock Catra, that's for sure. Scorpia’s story fit Shadow Weaver’s character perfectly. What does surprise her, however, is just how completely wasted her girlfriend seems to be.
“How is Adora this drunk already?” she whispers into Glimmer’s ear, who’s sitting cross-legged next to her. “I saw her make her drink, it wasn’t that strong. Had you guys never given her booze before??”
Glimmer giggles, and Catra’s nose twitches at the vodka on her breath. “I might have spiked it a little. Oh, don’t give me that look. She has a high tolerance, ok? And she drinks less and less as the night goes on, so she often ends up being the only sober one. If anything, I’m doing her a favor. In fact,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows, “I’m doing you a favor. Drunk Adora is soooo fun, and sooo cute. You’ll see.” She giggles again, and Catra decides that the responsible thing to do is to take the Queen’s glass away.
She takes a sip of it and shudders. Glimmer did not hold back on the vodka. She nudges her own glass closer to Glimmer’s knee, all the while looking at Perfuma, who has taken over with an anecdote of her own. After a while she feels Glimmer move next to her, picking up the switched glass and taking a long sip from it.
“And her energy, don’t even let me get started on her energy,” Perfuma is saying. “It permeated everything. Those poor plants. I get chills just walking through that thing she called garden.”
“Really spooky,” Scorpia adds helpfully.
Perfuma nods. “I never thought I’d say this about any plant but...” she trails off for a second, her lips quivering. She takes a deep breath, those she does when she’s teaching Catra to center herself. Her voice is so low it’s almost a whisper. “They felt evil too.”
“Note: take samples of Shadow Weaver’s garden. Analyze for possible evilness.” Entrapta brings her recorder up to her mouth while she talks, then sets it down next to her and picks up a vodka glass.
It’s not filled with vodka but with a colorful, fizzy drink. Entrapta had experimented with alcohol on previous occasions, and she had decided that the flavor was not to her liking and its effects were not worth the discomfort of the sensation. The other princesses had decided that she was never to be left drunk and alone, or worse, drunk and accompanied by a drunk Catra. Catra had decided that the scolding they both received had been totally worth it. Sure, some things had caught on fire along the way, some murderous robots had been set on the loose, but fun comes with a price, and Catra is not a coward.
Entrapta sets down her tiny glass, and Mermista moves to refill it. As far as Catra knows, no one asked her to do it. She supposes she’s one to talk, having also supplied Entrapta with food during princess prom without any prompting. Could that be her real princess power? Getting people to hand her food? Catra eyes her warily for a few seconds.
“So yeah, I was like whatever, but it wasn’t really whatever, you know?”
The circle of princesses nods, showing their support. Catra’s not exactly sure how they all ended up drunk, sitting on the floor, and dumping on Shadow Weaver. She has no desire to take part in the collective venting –Shadow Weaver has occupied her thoughts and dictated her actions enough for a lifetime already– but she has no issue listening to the others. She supposes it’s understandable . Though Catra now knows that her friends’ lives have not always been glitter and sparkles, they were still completely unprepared for the level of shittiness brought on by Shadow Weaver.
At least Lonnie and Rogelio are here too. She keeps getting surprised that they are willing to accept the invitation. It’s... nice. Her relationship with Lonnie had always been rocky, like every other relationship in her life. She hadn’t even thought about reconnecting with her former squad once the war had ended. With the stuff she had pulled as Hordak’s second in command, that was one bridge she didn’t think would ever get repaired.
Sweet, hopeless Adora, of course, had other ideas. She managed to track them down to the Crimson Waste, and asked them to make the trip to Bright Moon for an afternoon. Catra had been told later that the only reason Lonnie had agreed was because Rogelio wanted to see the castle and Kyle wanted to see Bow? She still didn’t understand that last part. In any case, come they had, and then they had subjected themselves to the most uncomfortable twenty minutes of Catra’s life as Sparkles tried to preside over tea.
The solution had, again, (and quite surprisingly) come from Adora. She had pushed her chair back, dragged everyone to the training grounds, and put a baton on each of their hands. It took a couple of hours but after the tenth time Lonnie had kicked her ass, she had finally stretched out her hand to help Catra stand. The bruises had stayed on her skin for weeks, but she had found that Lonnie’s wry smile had been worth it.
At least Kyle has stayed home tonight, looking after Imp. Shadow Weaver used to scare the crap out of him. He would have told story after story after story, never getting the hint that he should let someone else speak. Everyone else would have gotten drunk off their asses to drown out his voice.
“Sometimes,” Glimmer starts when she feels it’s her turn. “Sometimes I wish she was still alive, so I could kill her again myself.”
Her statement gathers mixed reactions. Perfuma purses her lips, Scorpia chuckles awkwardly. Mermista holds up her hand, and Glimmer clumsily crawls two step forwards to high five her.
“Dark, I like it,” Mermista says.
Then she blinks and looks at Catra and Adora, like she’s now remembering that she’s talking about the closest thing they had to a mother figure. Perfuma always puts a weird emphasis on that when Catra mentions her during their therapy sessions. The word mother doesn’t mean much to Catra. Neither does father or parents for that matter. Yes, she had a complicated relationship with Shadow Weaver. Yes, even at the end some part of her sought her approval. But Catra’s over that now. There was never any love there, from either of them. Catra had been shaped since she was a kid to feel like she owed something to the woman, like she needed to earn a spot in her good graces. Well, that was bullshit, like everything else about Shadow Weaver.
“Don’t look at me,” Catra says, raising her hands and almost knocking down her glass, “I’d be right there with you.”
She thinks it’s dumb that they are now getting worried about this, but then she finds herself also looking at Adora, making sure she’s comfortable with this situation. She’s playing with the straw on her glass, and doesn’t seem to notice that the easy atmosphere has gone somber while waiting for her reaction. Her tongue is sticking out and there’s a frown above her eyebrow as she stabs the lime at the bottom of her drink. Catra coughs subtly, and Adora looks up at her, glassy eyes going soft when their gazes cross. Catra’s heart jumps in her chest, and she’s about to lean forward and kiss the dumb expression out of her face when Adora seems to notice that everyone wants something from her.
“I’d kill her twice,” she says with a shrug, and Catra is surprised she’s still present enough to know what the conversation is about.
“You would?” she hears someone say, and belatedly realizes it’s her. The slur on her words finally clues her in the fact that she’s way drunker than she thought, and she glares at her glass. This is what she gets from switching drinks with Glimmer. She was just being responsible!
Adora shrugs again, causing her to lose her balance for a second. Her hands shoot up to stabilize herself. “She took you away from me,” she says with a frown. “Of course I would.”
Catra’s hand paws at Adora’s shoulder, bringing her closer. She kisses her deeply, all the other people in the room be damned. She hears some whistles and cheering, but she pays them no mind. Adora kisses back just as fervently, and keels over in her enthusiasm. Catra’s hand on her shoulder is the only thing that keeps her from crashing against Catra. Undeterred, Catra cups her face with her other hand, searching for a more comfortable angle. Something cold touches her foot. She intends to ignore it, but it distracts Adora, making her sit back down, giggling. Catra glares downwards, and finds that she has knocked over her glass, its contents spilling all over the floor.
Adora touches her lips with her hand, and another giggle bubbles up in her throat. “Wow.”
Catra hates to admit it, but Glimmer was right. Drunk Adora is too cute, way too cute for Catra’s current intoxication levels.
Glimmer tosses her a bunch of napkins. “Clean your mess.” She teleports what can’t be more than twenty centimeters away to avoid the spilled alcohol. Catra rolls her eyes, but she presses the napkins down on the floor before it can spread further.
“Did we tell you guys about how she died?”
So Adora is back on the Shadow Weaver topic. Catra had been hoping she would be up for another make out session. She dabs violently at the floor with her napkin. There hadn’t been that much left on her glass, how could it have gone everywhere ?
Adora keeps going, unbeknownst of Catra’s failed plans. “It was sooooooooooo fucked. So fucked up. She said ‘you are welcome’ like we owed her for doing the right thing for once in her life?” She shakes her head and her hair hits her on the cheek. “And even then she couldn’t resist leaving us with one last bit of psychological scarring. Plus, she was wasted.”
That makes Catra’s ears perk up. “Wait, you thought so too? I thought I had imagined it.”
Adora turns to look at her. “Uh, yeah! Didn’t you notice her slurring? It wasn’t the same way her words dragged when she had wasted too much magic and got exhausted.” Catra feels her jaw fall at Adora’s surprisingly lucid analysis. That is, at least, until Adora laughs to herself again. “I’m sure of it, homegirl was liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.” And there’s the drunkenness again.
Catra smiles, glad that at least Adora’s having fun tonight.
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Lonnie chimes in. “Remember that time she woke us up in the middle of the night to make us run laps around the training area? I’m convinced she was drunk then too. Sadistic bitch amused herself with watching us struggle.”
Rogelio rumbles in support.
Adora, who’s in the middle of attempting to get a sip from her drink, almost stabs herself in the eye with the straw in her eagerness to add, “Remember how bad Kyle threw up that night? And she kept yelling at him, making him look more and more green.”
Catra extends her hand to take the straw away from her girlfriend, which earns her a pout. Seriously, does no one appreciate the lengths she goes to try to save her idiot friends from themselves?
She frowns, and starts talking, but she’s interrupted by Adora reaching wildly for the straw. Catra moves her hand away, making it harder to reach, then says, “I don’t remember that.”
“I think you bailed?”
Still trying to wrestle the straw back from Catra, Adora nods a couple of times, her hair bouncing wildly behind her head. “She sneaked out on the second lap.”
Catra’s frown only deepens. “And I got away with it?”
She pushes Adora’s face away from her, but that doesn’t stop her from extending her arms as far as they go, slapping Catra’s face in her attempts to grab the straw. Catra sighs, then relents and lets her have it. Adora yelps in victory, raising the straw to the ceiling as if it were her sword. She wastes no time in plopping it back on her drink, then hums happily to herself as she takes a sip from it. Catra’s heart can hardly take how adorable she’s being.
“She was distracted by Kyle. Saved your ass, most probably. Getting to yell at you in front of us was the only thing missing from her perfect night.”
There’s not enough alcohol in the whole planet that can prevent a scowl from taking over Catra’s face. Her tail comes to hug her at the waist, and she sits back, as if the distance would shield her from Lonnie’s comment.
“Catra!” Adora exclaims, shifting her weight forward and kneeling. She lets go of her glass on the process, completely forgetting that she’s supposed to set it down first. It rolls down her thighs and onto the floor, where it keeps going, crossing the empty space in the middle of the circle. The slice of lime falls out of it along the way. “Catra!” Adora repeats urgently, taking ahold of Catra’s wrist. “It was so fucked up when she did that. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
Catra brings her hand free to rest above Adora’s. “I know, Adora, it’s ok.”
But Adora shakes her head forcefully. “It’s not ok, it was never ok.” She looks dangerously close to crying, and Catra’s thoughts are too sluggish to think of a way to prevent this. “You were right, she never earned your respect, and even then, being disrespectful didn’t mean you deserved to be abused!”
“You were abused too,” Catra says, lamely.
It doesn’t comfort Adora. Catra briefly considers running to the door and letting the others handle this. She’s not afraid of being vulnerable in front of her girlfriend anymore, but there’s a difference between that and having to console a crying Adora when they are both completely hammered. Catra will probably say something dumb and upset her further, and that’s the best-case scenario.
“Sometimes I don’t understand how you stand to look at me.” Tears start falling from Adora’s. Between the slurring of her words and the way her lower lip is shaking, Catra has to make a conscious effort to understand what she’s saying. “I did not only let it happen, I justified her too.”
She can’t help it, Catra starts crying too. Fucking alcohol. Fucking Shadow Weaver. If even one of these princesses even tries to hug her, she’s tearing their arms off from their bodies.
“Are you kidding?” She might be yelling at this point. She’s not sure. “She was hurting you all that time and I didn’t see it either. I thought your life was so perfect. The best. The favorite. Adora, I was so cruel.”
Catra reaches for her and buries her face on Adora’s neck, sobs taking over her body. Between her arms, Adora is shaking just as badly.
“I’m so sorry,” Adora says.
“No, I’m sorry,” Catra insists.
Adora hugs back, her arms circling Catra's waist. Catra can’t do anything but repeat how sorry she is, and she thinks Adora is doing the same, but why does it matter? Adora has nothing to apologize for, it’s her who’s always been in the wrong.
“Um.... guys? Are you ok?”
She slowly disengages herself from Adora’s embrace. There are worried faces all around them. Something soft brushes her arm and she hisses before she realizes it’s her own tail. The embarrassment is what finally gets her to snap out of her crying session. She looks at Adora, who’s calmer, but still looks shaken. She carefully brushes her thumb under her girlfriend's eyes.
“Yes,” she says sharply, defying them to say different.
“Don’t be upset, Adora,” Lonnie says, surprisingly gentle. “Even if you had stood up to her, she would’ve probably wiped your memories away or something shady like that.”
Lonnie chuckles to herself. Catra and Adora, however, freeze in place. Catra had taken Adora’s face in both of her hands to comfort her, and now she’s stuck staring directly into her eyes. There, she finds a shocked expression that must mirror her own.
Noticing their reactions, Lonnie’s laughter dies off. “Wait, guys, I was just joking...” She looks around the room slowly. “You don’t really think...” She trails off, an uncomfortable silence taking over the group.
It’s Glimmer who breaks it. She points a finger at Adora and screams, “WAIT, IS THIS WHY SHE DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT HORSES?”
Catra lets go of her girlfriend's face and jumps back, putting some distance between them. “You didn’t know about horses?” She feels like she’s seeing a stranger.
“WAIT, YOU GUYS KNEW HORSES BACK AT THE HORDE? AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?” She looks like she’s about to start crying again.
“EVERYONE PLEASE CALM DOWN,” Scorpia cries, her voice cracking.
But it’s no use. The room has gone into a flurry of activity, everyone standing up and forming smaller groups. Catra and Lonnie are shouting at each other, none of them sure if they are trying to reassure themselves that Shadow Weaver hadn’t actually messed with Adora’s head, or if they are trying to prove the other one wrong. Glimmer is still on the floor, head on her hands. She’s talking quietly to herself, trying to recall everything single off thing Adora has said since she met them, then comparing it with similar attitudes she has seen coming from the other Horde kids. Scorpia might be crying, and though Perfuma is trying to guide her through some meditation exercises, it’s clear she needs them just as badly.
At some point Catra remembers that Adora is still in the room, and frantically searches for her. She finds her with Entrapta , who’s talking fast into her recorder while she pokes and prods her friend. Adora doesn’t seem upset, and she even laughs every time Entrapta touches her. She approaches them cautiously .
“Subject’s inebriated state makes it difficult to assess if any real damage has been done to their frontal cortex,” Entrapta is saying. “Further testing is required.”
“Mind if I take over?” Catra tells her, and Entrapta nods and walks away, still taking notes. Catra turns to Adora. “Hey babe,” she says slowly, “how are you feeling?”
Adora blinks a couple of times before her eyes focus on her. “I’m ok. How are you ?”
The last word has too much force in it, and Adora punctuates it by leaning most of her weight on Catra and poking her on the chest. Catra eyes her suspiciously.
“Are you sure you are ok?”
Adora giggles. “I think...” She laughs again, then lowers her voice. “I think I’m drunk.”
She’s still doing nothing to support herself, so Catra puts her arm around her waist. Despite herself, Catra smiles. “Is that so, huh? What clued you in?” If anything, the fact that she can recognize it is probably a sign that she’s starting to sober up.
She’ll never get tired of Adora’s laugh. “ Entrapta was talking to me but I have no idea what she was saying,” she keeps up the conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t tell her though, I don’t want to upset her.”
Catra pats her on the head. “Don’t worry about it, I won’t say a thing.”
Adora hums appreciatively and nuzzles her face against Catra’s shoulder. Catra decides that she’s had enough of tonight. She’s tired, she’s buzzed, she’s been through an emotional roller-coaster, and she deserves to enjoy the company of her girlfriend without the constant chattering of the other princesses. Besides, Adora needs to get some water on her, and Catra is not trusting any liquids in this room. She’ll probably never trust any drink that comes from Glimmer ever again.
She’s starting to lead Adora to the door, when someone starts yelling again. Catra groans, she can already feel the headache that she’ll have to deal with tomorrow.
“THAT’S ENOUGH! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!” Perfuma’s loud voice cuts through every other conversation. She gets closer to Catra and Adora. “Is it true?”
Adora tilts her head. “Is what true?”
Perfuma’s eye twitches. “Is it true Shadow Weaver used to wipe your memories?”
Oh, right, that had been happening. Catra’s tail puffs out at the question. Who asks something like that? Is she trying to make Adora cry again?
“Oh.” Adora bites her lip and scrunches up her eyebrow. She appears to be deep in thought for a few seconds, and the princesses lean closer in anticipation. “I don’t know,” she finally says, and the group deflates around them. Adora turns to Catra. “What do you think?”
“What? Why me?”
“You are the one who knows me best, if anyone could tell, it would be you,” she explains like it’s obvious, and Catra guesses that it is, but it’s also obvious that none of them are in any state to be having this conversation.
Still, she ponders over it. Adora might look calm now, but what if once she wakes up tomorrow she has a crisis over this? Catra knows she would, at least. The thought of Shadow Weaver poking around in her mind...it makes her want to throw up.
“I... don’t know,” she finally admits.
“How can you guys not know? Someone might have screwed around on Adora’s brain and none of you can tell?”
Rogelio grunts and huffs .
Lonnie nods. "Exactly. The Fright Zone was a mess, we can’t be aware of every little thing Shadow Weaver did to screw us up.”
“You call this little?” Glimmer looks like she’s about to explode.
Catra interrupts before things can escalate. “Plus, Adora was a weird kid. And she hit her head a lot.”
Adora nods effusively. “I was. And I did.”
Glimmer opens her mouth, then closes it again. She frowns.
“And you are like, completely cool with this?” Mermista says.
Adora shrugs with the arm that’s not holding onto Catra. “What’s adding one more trauma to the pile?”
And honestly, who’s Catra to argue with that kind of logic? The princesses look at each other, then back at them, and Catra can see the way they have to physically will themselves to let it go.
“Can we go to sleep now?” she says, not waiting for an answer before she starts walking towards the door, taking Adora with her.
“Goodnight guys, tonight was really fun!” Adora calls as she’s dragged away.
They close the door behind them, leaving the others to deal with the emotional fallout of the night, which Catra still isn’t completely sure how they both managed to avoid.
