Archive of Our Own

It happens in a heartbeat. 

The Best Friends Squad had gone on a routine patrol mission around the outskirts of the Whispering Woods. The war may be over, but there are still some Horde loyalists fighting, mostly in guerilla-style ambush attacks, having lost the superiority of numbers and access to most of their equipment. Unfortunately, they had walked straight into one of those ambushes.

Bow is up on the high ground, firing arrows into the enemies below. Glimmer is teleporting around the battlefield, landing surprise hits and confusing the Horde soldiers. Adora and Catra are fighting side by side, Adora doing her best to use her long reach as She-Ra to keep their enemies at bay. Catra, always a close-range fighter, darts in and out, slashing with her claws and landing hard blows with elbows and knees. They’re working as well together as they ever have, but then—

Adora swings her sword, but she’s a fraction of a second too slow and the soldier slips past her, swinging his club hard. Adora immediately puts her sword in a defensive position to block, but it’s a mistake—she isn’t the target after all. She hears a sickening crack, and watches in horror as Catra goes limp, bleeding at the temple after the blow to her head. 

“NO!” Adora screams, swinging her sword with all her strength. She hits the soldier with the flat of the blade in the chest, and he goes flying back, and then lies on the ground unmoving. Adora drops to her knees, cradling Catra in her arms, shaking fingers checking for a pulse. It’s there, but faint, thready. 

“No no no,” she sobs. “No, Catra, wake up.”

“Adora!” she hears Glimmer scream, as if it’s coming from far away. “What are you doing? They’re all coming towards you!”

Adora jumps to her feet, suddenly aware of the battle again. She stands over Catra, sword raised. She’ll die before she lets any of them touch her. Rage bubbles in her chest. With effort, Adora pushes it down. She can’t afford to be distracted. She can’t afford to be anything but a sword. 

The battle passes in a blur, Adora aware of little but Catra beneath her, and where the enemy is in relation to that. Her own safety is barely a secondary concern; they will not get Catra. Adora doesn’t even notice the bruises and cuts she’s accumulating, nor that she’s not holding back against her enemies like she usually does. Fear starts to rise in the eyes of the soldiers she faces, and somewhere inside herself Adora feels guilt, but not enough to slow down, not enough to stop. After what feels like only minutes but must have been longer, the Horde soldiers break and run. 

Adora lets them go. She has more important concerns. Catra is starting to feebly stir and Adora is immediately beside her, only vaguely aware she’s shifted out of her She-Ra form. 

“Catra,” she says quietly but urgently. “Can you hear me?”

Catra groans, cracks open one eye, and immediately shuts it again. “Too bright…”

A concussion. Guilt weighs down Adora’s chest. If she’d just been faster, if she hadn’t made such a stupid mistake…

She jumps when she feels a hand on her shoulder. 

“It’s just me,” Bow says. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” Adora replies, hearing her voice wobble. “I think she has a concussion. I’d heal her as She-Ra, but I feel a little low on power. I really went all out on those guys. I don’t want to risk getting it wrong.”

“We have to get her back to Bright Moon,” Glimmer says authoritatively, and then softens, looking at Adora. “Our healers there can fix this, it’ll be okay.”

“We need to be careful moving her,” Bow cautions. “Adora, it would probably be easiest if you carried her. Can you turn back to She-Ra?”

“Yeah,” Adora says, and then remembers Catra’s current light sensitivity. “Catra, keep your eyes closed, okay?”

Catra moans something that sounds vaguely like “okay” and Adora transforms, feeling the familiar rush of magic and strength fill her. 

“I’m going to pick you up,” Adora says gently to Catra. “Don’t move too much, okay?”

“Strong arms,” Catra mumbles. “Arms good.”

It would be funny if Adora wasn’t so worried. “Arms good,” she agrees, putting one carefully under Catra’s knees and the other holding her shoulders. She stands up slowly and Catra turns her face into her chest, groaning. 

“Ugh...too fast.”

“I’m sorry,” Adora says. “It should be better now that we’re just walking.”

Adora starts off, concentrating on keeping her breathing steady. Panicking won’t help anyone. Glimmer jogs a little to catch up. 

“She’s going to be fine, Adora,” Glimmer says gently. “I promise. I got a concussion when I was a kid, before I got control of my teleportation powers. I accidentally teleported up and then crashed to the ground. I was pretty out of it, but they fixed me up right away. And it didn’t have any long term effects.”

“That’s debatable,” Bow says, catching up to them. “But she’s right, Adora, Catra is going to be okay.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” Adora says, trying to keep the lingering doubt out her voice. Sure, Catra has been hurt before, in training and in battle, but Adora can’t think of a time she’s seen her take a hit to the head like this and be so out of it. Catra is always so sharp and so quick, it’s deeply disconcerting to see her slow and fuzzy like this.

“We probably can’t teleport,” Glimmer says. “I don’t know how that would interact with a head injury. We’re what, a day and a half’s walk from Bright Moon?”

Adora’s heart sinks. They won’t be able to get Catra help for a day and a half…

“Yeah,” Bow confirms. “We don’t really have anything to stay overnight, but about a third of the way there there’s an abandoned rebel hideout we can use for shelter. It’ll be rough, but well, we’ve slept in worse places before!” He smiles at them, obviously trying to lighten up the mood. “It’ll be okay, really.”

“I guess it has to be,” Adora replies. She can’t think of any outcome where it isn’t okay, where something bad happens to Catra she can’t fix. This is all her fault, if she had just been faster, if she had just been better, smarter, more capable, Catra would never have taken this hit. Another failure, and once again it’s someone she loves who pays the price.

“Don’ worry ‘dora,” Catra slurs. “Been in...worse scrapes. Least Shadow Weaver isn’t here. ‘M safe with you ‘n your friends.”

“Shhhh,” Adora hushes her. “Just close your eyes and rest.”

“But don’t fall asleep!” Glimmer interjects.

“Actually,” Bow says. “It’s okay. That advice is outdated. If she can talk to us a little like she is, it’s okay for her to sleep. It even helps the brain recover.”

“How did you know that?” Adora asks Bow gratefully.

Bow shrugs. “I’m the normal guy on our team without any powers, so I figured knowing something like field medicine would be helpful. I guess you’d never notice me patching people up because She-Ra heals herself.”

“Well, thank you,” Adora replies, doing her best to give him a small smile, even if her stomach is still churning with worry. “Do you think you could check on Catra when we get to the shelter?”

“Of course. I’ll give her my best attention, I promise.”

“Too loud,” Catra groans. “Talking too loud. Shhhhh.”

“We’ll be quiet,” Adora promises, whispering to Catra. “Why don’t you try to go to sleep?”

“Sleep soun’s good,” Catra mumbles. “‘Night ‘night.”

Glimmer, despite the seriousness of the situation, looks like she’s trying to stifle a laugh. Catra would never be caught dead saying “night night” like a kid normally, and maybe it would be funny under other circumstances, but Adora can’t see the humor in it right now. She shoots Glimmer a reproachful look. 

Glimmer looks chastised, but Adora is pretty sure she sees her shoot a grin at Bow out of the corner of her eye when she turns away. Whatever. She has bigger concerns right now. Like Catra.

Adora looks down at Catra, who is curled up against her chest, already asleep. Her breathing is slow and steady, and Adora takes comfort in the steady rise and fall of her chest. Like this, she can almost pretend nothing is wrong. Almost, but not quite.

Adora sets her jaw and looks forward. It’s going to be a very long walk.

Even as She-Ra, Adora’s arms are aching when they reach the old Rebellion hideout. They’ve been walking for about four hours, and even though Bow and Glimmer offered to carry Catra, Adora wouldn’t let them. She just can’t be away from Catra when she’s injured like this, even if it’s only a few feet away. And so for four hours Adora had walked one step after another, carrying Catra the entire way.

“There’s some supplies in here still,” Bow calls out, exploring, and Catra stirs in Adora’s arms. She’d been mostly sleeping as they all walked, occasionally returning to consciousness to mumble something half-coherent and bury her face into Adora’s shoulder. 

“Shhh,” Adora whispers to her. “It’s okay. We just got to where we’re staying for the night.”

“‘Kay,” Catra agrees. “Night is good. Dark. No more light. Light hurts.”

“Yeah, nice and dark.” Adora glances at Bow, who’s gesturing her over. “Let’s go talk to Bow, okay?”

“Mmm. S’long as you’re quiet.”

“There’s a cot here,” Bow whispers, pointing as Adora walks over. “Just one, but we can put Catra on it. In the morning we can convert it to a sled so you don’t have to carry her all day. Not that one of us couldn’t have helped…”

“I had it,” Adora whispers back. “But...I will be glad to put Catra down.”

Bow nods, and pulls the cot out. Adora gently lays Catra down on it. When she steps back, Catra opens her eyes and looks at her blearily. 

“Where’re you goin’?”

“Just going to look at the supplies. I’ll be back soon, I promise.” Adora runs her hand through Catra’s hair briefly. “I’m going to turn back from She-Ra now. You should close your eyes.”

When Catra does, Adora de-transforms, and suddenly feels much more tired and much more sore. She-Ra might heal her injuries, and give her extra strength and stamina, but at the end of the day, it’s still her body. She-Ra isn’t a complete escape from physical consequences, even though most people think she is. Not Catra though. Catra was always there for her after a hard battle, once they were finally on the same side again. And now Catra is hurt…

Adora shakes her head, trying to clear it. “Supplies?” she asks Bow.

“I sent Glimmer looking. Hang on, there she is. Looks like she’s carrying some rations or something.”

Adora and Bow walk to Glimmer, so they don’t have to disturb Catra. Bow asks Glimmer what she found, and Glimmer makes a face.

“I found something that can loosely be categorized as food,” she says, “and it should still be safe to eat. Not fun, but safe.”

Adora shrugs. “Can’t be worse than the Horde ration bars.”

Bow grimaces. “I still can’t believe that’s all you ate for eighteen years.”

“At least it gives me an advantage here,” Adora replies. “ I won’t be the one choking on these rations.”

“Rub it in,” Glimmer mutters. “Horde kid tough guy, no taste buds left.”

Adora snorts. “Give me a couple? One for me and one for Catra?”

Glimmer does, and Adora makes her way back over to where Catra is lying on the cot. She’s curled up, and frankly looks a little miserable.

“Hey,” Adora says quietly. “I brought some dinner. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“Ughhhh,” Catra groans. “Food sounds awful. Feel kinda sick.”

Adora unwraps a corner of her ration and takes a small bite. Blech. It’s not quite as bad as Horde ration bars, but it’s not going to be easy on a nauseous stomach either.

“Please?” she asks. “For me?”

Catra glares at her. “You know that works. Damn it. ‘S not fair.”

Adora hands her the ration. It was a dirty trick, but desperate times, desperate measures…

Catra takes a bite and blanches. “You’re givin’ me this?”

“It’s all we have.” Adora lays a hand on Catra’s shoulder. “Please, try to eat some.”

In the end, Catra manages about half the ration. It’s more than Adora hoped for. As she’s eating her own, Bow walks over. 

“I promised you I’d check her out,” he says to Adora. “I can give her a look now.”

“Thanks,” Adora says, swallowing down her instinctive response to hide Catra’s weakness away and then turning to Catra, who has curled up again. “Catra, can you please turn over so you can talk to Bow?”

“Talking hurts,” Catra grumbles, “my head hurts and talking is worse.” Even as she’s saying it, she turns towards Bow.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Bow says. “This won’t take long. Can you follow my finger with your eyes?”

Catra’s gaze is definitely a little off, and Adora furrows her brow in worry. Bow nods to himself.

“Okay, we expected that. I need you to answer some questions now, okay?” Catra nods, and then seems to immediately think better of it as she winces and puts a hand to her head. “Who is the ruler of Bright Moon?”

Catra gives him the most condescending look she can muster, which even while concussed is quite something. “ Sparkles.”

Bow laughs a little, quietly. “Okay, maybe that was too easy. What year is it?”

“Only know the Horde calendar. It’s...35 years since Hordak landed. No, 34. No, wait, it’s…”

“It’s okay,” Bow says. “Don’t think too hard about it. One last question: what’s the name of Mermista’s kingdom?”

Catra pauses for a long moment, and her ears drop before she answers it. “Salineas. Burned it. It was...don’t ‘member when, but it burned. My fault.”

Bow looks stricken. “Catra, I didn’t mean—”

Adora steps in, kneeling next to Catra, face to face. “Don’t worry about that right now,” she murmurs. “Don’t think about it. You’re doing a lot of good now, remember? We’re doing good together. It’s not like before.”

Catra weakly reaches out to touch her hand, and Adora  interlaces their fingers. “Together. Yeah. Always shoulda been. ‘M sorry. ‘M really really sorry.”

“I know,” Adora whispers, squeezing her hand. “I know, I know, and I forgive you, you know that. Just try to get some rest now, okay? I need to talk to Bow.”

Catra hums in agreement, but when Adora steps away she calls out weakly: “Adora? Come back, okay? Please come back.”

“I will,” Adora promises. “It’ll just be a few minutes.”

“I’m so sorry,” Bow bursts out as soon as Adora gets to him. “I wasn’t thinking—”

“It’s okay,” Adora reassures him, grabbing his hands which he had been wringing together. “It was an accident, it’s okay. She probably won’t even remember when she gets better.”

Bow relaxes a little, and takes his hands back. “Thanks. I hope you’re right. Anyway, she definitely has a concussion. That’s not a surprise. It’s moderate, I think. She’s definitely having trouble thinking and remembering, and her eye tracking wasn’t great, but if it was more severe she’d be throwing up or saying things that were completely incoherent. She should be okay until she gets to the Bright Moon healers.”

Adora nods. “Do you know if...if there’ll be any permanent damage?” She doesn’t want to even consider the possibility, but it keeps racing around in her mind, what if, what if, what if…

Bow looks apologetic. “I don’t really know enough about medicine and magical healing to answer that. But Glimmer really did heal okay from her concussion. I don’t know how bad that one was, but look, you can see she’s just fine.”

Adora takes a deep breath. “Thank you. I’m glad you were here to check her out. It’s...it’s still hard for me to trust other people with Catra, weakness was something you never wanted to show in the Horde, but I’m glad I trust you.”

Bow’s eyes tear up and he grabs her in a hug. “I love you too!”

That’s not exactly what Adora said, but she’s glad he knew what she meant. She squeezes him back before stepping away and telling him she needs to go back to Catra.

Catra cracks one eye open when Adora approaches, squinting even in the dim light of the hideout. “How’re you feeling?” Adora asks.

“Like shit. Head hurts. Every little noise is so loud, ‘n I can’t think. Everything’s...hazy. What happened?”

“You got hit in the head,” Adora answers. “When we were fighting. You don’t remember it?”

Catra pauses. “No. I ‘member fighting with you, but it just kinda blanks out at the end.”

Adora wants to tell her it’s her fault, and she’s sorry, but doesn’t think Catra could handle that conversation right now. So instead she asks: “How can I help?”

“Just hold me,” Catra says, scooting over a little bit on the cot. “Please.”

Adora eyes it. It looks barely big enough to hold two people, but they shared a bed in the Horde. She can make this work. She settles down on it and then lays behind Catra, wrapping her arms around her gently.

“It’s okay,” Adora murmurs. “I’ve got you.” 

Catra turns into her and tucks her head into Adora’s neck. She’s purring quietly, but Adora knows it’s probably more of a self-soothing purr than a happy one. Still, it’s familiar and comforting, and despite all her worries, Adora finds herself giving into her exhaustion, drifting off to sleep.

The second day of their long walk back to Bright Moon is easier than the first. Bow had managed to convert the cot into a litter, and Adora, freshly transformed into She-Ra, is dragging Catra, which is much easier than carrying her. Guilt spikes in her chest with every little bump they hit that makes Catra groan in pain, but Adora doesn’t think she could carry Catra for eight hours straight, even as She-Ra.

They started out early in the day, and they reach Bright Moon in the late afternoon. Even though all of them are physically fit, Adora can see Bow and Glimmer’s exhaustion as well as feeling her own. She’s infinitely grateful to them for staying with her instead of just teleporting home. Of course, they never would have done that, and it’s one of the reasons why she loves them.

“Your highness!” a guard cries, racing out to greet them. “We got your message last night that you’d be back late, and had wounded. The healers are on their way.”

“Thank you,” Glimmer says, and Adora is grateful she and Bow thought to call ahead using the trackerpad last night. “We’ll wait here for them. We don’t want to move Catra any more than we have to.”

It’s a little late for that, Adora thinks, but she appreciates the concern. Within moments, a team of healers has converged on them. 

“It’s a concussion,” Bow tells them. “Moderate, I think. She’s mostly coherent but sensitive to light and noise, and she’s been having issues with memory and thinking.”

“When did this happen?” the lead healer asks.

“Yesterday,” Adora says, mouth dry. “About midday. We were in a fight. I was too slow. She got hit in the head. Hard.”

The healer hums. “And you’ve moved her since then. The whole way on a litter?”

“I carried her the first day,” Adora answers. “We dragged her on a litter today. I tried to avoid bumps as best I could.”

“Yes, yes,” the healer says, distracted. “Nothing to be done for it. We’ll take her from here.”

“Wait!” Adora cries, grabbing the healer by the sleeve as she turns away. “Can’t I come with you?”

Gently, the healer removes her hand. “It’s best if we have quiet and privacy to work. We’ll take good care of her, I swear to you. We’ll send her right to your room as soon as she’s better. It should only be a couple hours, and she’ll be right as rain afterwards.” The healer pats her on the shoulder, smiling briefly, and then turns away, hustling after the team of medics carrying Catra away.

Adora stills, feeling locked in place. She never imagined they’d take Catra away. She thought she’d be there, by her side, throughout the whole thing. But now this team of strangers is taking her, and Adora can’t follow, and she feels panicked and scared and like she’s letting Catra down, somehow. 

It’s Bow who comes to her. “Adora,” he says gently, placing a hand on her arm. “It’ll be alright. The healers just need some time to fix her up. It’s normal for them to not let anyone in while they’re working. That’s just how medical care goes.”

Adora looks at him. “It is?” she asks, voice cracking. “In the Horde, we didn’t, I mean, there wasn’t—”

Glimmer is here now, looking at her sadly. “I know they didn’t take care of you in the Horde,” she says, eyes understanding and expression sympathetic. “But we take care of our own here, and this is just how it works. We don’t hurt anyone for showing weakness, and we help them until they get better. She’s gonna be okay.”

Adora releases a breath, feeling it stutter in her chest. She can’t help but feel like she’ll never see Catra again, that they took her away injured and she’ll never come back from wherever soldiers who can’t fight go. But she trusts Glimmer, she trusts Bow. She trusts Bright Moon, it’s just that old instincts die hard. Catra will be okay. They promised.

“Yeah,” she says. “You guys are right. I...I should go back to my room. To wait for Catra.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” Glimmer asks.

“No,” Adora answers, too quickly. “No, it’s okay. It should...it should just be me and her when she gets back. I don’t want her to feel overwhelmed.”

“Adora,” Bow says gently, “are you okay?”

“Of course I am! I’m not the one who got hurt. Really, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, guys.”

Bow and Glimmer look unconvinced, but they let her go. Adora’s feet carry her automatically through the castle, and before she knows it, she’s in the room she and Catra share.

There are traces of Catra everywhere. Her clothes on the floor (she never puts them away), scratches in the headboard, even the smell of her lingering in the air. Adora sinks down sitting on the bed, head in her hands. 

This is all her fault. If she had just been faster, just been smarter, this never would have happened. She made a mistake in battle, and Catra paid the price. Adora tries, she tries so hard, but she just keeps failing. She failed Queen Angella, she once failed to save her friendship with Glimmer from fracturing, nearly dooming Etheria, and now she’s failed Catra.

She’s failed Catra again, because truthfully she has failed Catra many times. She failed to protect Catra from Shadow Weaver, she failed to get Catra to join her at Thaymor, she failed to stop Catra from pulling the switch and opening the portal and damning them all. The only thing she has ever truly wanted is to love Catra and keep her safe, but look at what Catra’s life has been. Adora has never, never succeeded in that.

First Shadow Weaver, and then Horde Prime, now just a random soldier who got lucky. Will Adora ever be able to protect Catra? Will she ever be able to save the people she loves?

Distantly, Adora realizes that she is crying, and that the sun has gone down. She has no right to cry. She hasn’t gotten hurt. Her carelessness, her weakness and stupidity, they got someone else hurt. What right does she have to be upset? Furiously, she wipes her eyes, but to her frustration, new tears spring up. She hitches her breath, trying to be calm. She learned long ago how to hide her tears, to sob silently so as to not be caught, and then later, how not to cry at all. She’s frustrated that she can’t seem to stop now.

She jumps as the door opens. 

“Adora?” a familiar voice calls.

“Catra!” Adora exclaims, jumping up. “Are you alright? How do you feel? Is everything—”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Catra says, striding forward quickly and gripping Adora by the shoulders. “Don’t worry! The healers fixed me right up. My head doesn’t hurt anymore and I feel totally normal.”

“You’re okay,” Adora breathes, leaning forward and touching her forehead to Catra’s. “You’re really okay.”

“Yes, dummy,” Catra says, but then pulls back and pauses. “Adora...have you been crying?”

“No, of course not,” Adora denies, hoping the dim light hides the redness of her eyes. “Why would I? I’m not the one who got hurt.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Catra says, and Adora can hear a little frustration in her voice. “I can smell the salt in the air. Adora, please, what’s going on? Don’t shut me out like this. Not anymore.”

Damn Catra’s enhanced senses. Adora sighs, runs a hand down her face. “Okay, I was crying. I...I felt guilty that you got hurt. It was all because of me.”

Catra takes her hand. “C’mon,” she says, leading Adora towards the bed. “Let’s sit down.” After they do, Adora sitting somewhat stiffly, Catra casually wrapping her tail around her, Catra asks: “Why do you think this was your fault?”

“You don’t remember what happened, right?” Adora asks, and Catra nods. “Well, we were fighting, and I saw a soldier with a club coming up. I thought he was coming for me, so I went defensive, but it was actually you he was after, and he got you good before I could ever even get there to block it. If I’d just been smarter, or faster...”

“Then maybe you would have blocked it, maybe you wouldn’t have.” Catra leans into her. “Adora, you weren’t the one with the club. It’s a battle. Injuries happen. I trust you to have my back—still do, nothing has changed. You’ve had my back as long as I can remember. It was me who turned on you.”

“That’s not true!” Adora protests. “I was never able to stop Shadow Weaver from hurting you. I tried, but I didn’t know how to stop her, and I thought maybe if I was good enough she wouldn’t hurt you anymore. I tried to get her to see the good in you, and cover for you when you got in trouble, but it never ever worked. If I’d been able to protect you better, Thaymor never would have happened. You never would have had so much anger and pain inside.”

“ Don’t you dare,” Catra growls. “My choices were my own, mine. And with Shadow Weaver, you were just a kid! I used to be mad at you because I thought you liked being her favorite, but I got over it because I finally figured out it was bad for you too! How were you going to protect me when we were five, ten? There’s nothing you could have done. I’ve admitted that, why can’t you?”

“It just feels like my fault.” Adora hunches over. “It always feels like my fault. I was always supposed to be better, and what even is the point if I can’t keep the people I love safe? What good am I then?!”

“You’re good because you’re you!” Catra bursts out. “I love you because you’re Adora, not because you’re a hero! You don’t always have to be a hero, you can just be you! And I’ll love you every day, and so will Bow, and Glimmer, and everyone else! Just be Adora!”

Adora pauses, and then leans into Catra, shaking. “I don’t know who I am without the hero part.”

Catra kisses the side of her head. “Well, I do. You’re kind, and brave, and dorky. You make me laugh, and sometimes you make me annoyed because you’re too earnest for words, and you have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever known. You love food more than anyone I’ve ever met, and that stupid horse, for some reason. You’re good, and not because you’re She-Ra, just because you’re you. It’s enough. It’s always been enough for me. You know I loved you years and years before we ever knew She-Ra existed.”

Adora lets herself sink deeper into Catra. “I loved you too. I never knew what it was, not until the Heart, but I loved you for as long as I can remember. You’re the only person who knew me before She-Ra, you know? You’re the only person who knew me when I was just Adora.”

“You can still be just Adora,” Catra says, squeezing her. “With me, you can always be just Adora. And that will always be enough.”

At that, Adora sobs a little, and Catra pulls her into her, holding her gently. “I was so scared,” Adora says in a small voice, “I was so scared when you got hurt that you wouldn’t be okay forever, that it would be permanent.”

“I’ll always come back to you,” Catra promises. “Cats have nine lives, remember? And I’m pretty sure you recharged mine when you brought me back.”

Adora laughs, shaky and watery, but laughing just the same. “I should have remembered you’re too stubborn to ever let something like a head injury stop you.”

“Damn right,” Catra says. “I’m made of tougher stuff than that.”

“I love you,” Adora breathes out, burying her face into Catra’s shoulder. “Come to bed with me? I’m exhausted.”

“Always,” Catra promises. “And I love you too.”

They don’t need any words after that. They shrug off their day clothes, crawl into bed together. This time, Catra is holding Adora. Adora rests her head against Catra’s chest, reassured by the steady thumping of her heartbeat in her ear, calmed by the rumble of the purr from her chest. Like this, the battle of yesterday feels very far away. Like this, Adora can believe Catra that she’s enough. And maybe with enough nights like this, Adora will even believe her in the light of day, standing on her own two feet in the sun.

Adora sleeps. Her dreams are still and calm. In the morning, she will wake up, and Catra will still be there. In the morning, she will be Adora, and Catra will be Catra, and that will be enough. In the morning, she will be loved.

The stars pass overhead, still and quiet, and when the sun rises, all is well.