Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hey, Adora”

Catra steps beside her partner, leaning onto the balcony to watch the day moons set. She looks down at her clawed hands that are not instruments of war anymore, and decides to act now or the nervously fluttering little bird in her chest is going to make her combust.

I want-

“Hey,” Adora smiles at her as she wraps an arm around Catra’s waist, pulling her impossibly close to kiss her temple with a loud smack . She then pulls back just the tiniest bit to show a goofy smile that lights up her face. “How was your day?”

Catra leans in a little, taking a breath. “It was okay. The usual intergalactic politics bullshit Sparkles and I have been dealing with for the past two years.”

Adora snorts at that. There are hints of laugh lines in her face, and all Catra can think of is I love you I love you I love you and I want- .

She bites her lip as Melog gently nudges the back of her mind with the feeling of safe . It feels like the ghost of the kisses she and Adora shared when they woke up the first day after the war ended, still incredulous that they can have this now. It was the first of many peaceful days, and they prevailed.

She glances over her shoulder, smiling at Melog a little shakily. The alien perks up from where they are perched on the bed, shaking out their mane and giving a mrrp that is probably meant encouragingly. Catra cautiously pushes a stay their way. She wants them to be here for this, but she also wants them to grant her this moment of doing this for herself.

Melog’s energy meets hers, confirming the stay as they lounge back into the ruffled sheets.

It’s going to be fine. Fine , Catra repeats in her mind. I want-

There have been so many moments over the past few weeks that she’s almost blurted it out in one of the meetings in front of the whole Princess Alliance. She needs to say it: I want -  

She swallows. I want -

The thought is interrupted by a series of what if s that have been circling in Catra’s mind for too long. She shakes her head, frowning a little. She can deal with the fact that Adora might not be ready yet. She knows that she is ready, and if Adora is not she’s okay to wait - she’s okay to wait forever, that is, as long as she can spend it with Adora.

Catra feels her tail swaying nervously behind her, hitting Adora’s legs.

“Catra, what’s wrong?” Adora’s soft expression turns worried as she pulls back. She looks over her shoulder towards Melog. They cower on the bed, tail tucked between their legs, ready to jump and disappear any moment, their mane floating in anxious white waves. They stay put because of Catra, and that thought fills her with warmth.

I want a little one .

She’s ready. She just has to get it out.

Catra takes a breath. She looks down at where her fists are clenched into tight balls on the railing of the balcony. It’s going to be okay , she repeats her inner mantra and keeps herself from reaching out to Melog. She has to do this on her own. They still give her an encouraging nudge. “I-”

Adora leans in to meet her eyes, frowning a little, worry creasing her brow.

“I-”

- want a little one .

She can do it. She-

She really can’t do it. The thought is so violently clear that it takes her breath away and stops her short. It burns in her chest, and she just feels so much all at once. She can’t stomach Adora not being ready.

“I-,” she stammers, looking for words, and goes for the next-best thought. She blurts out, “I love you.”

Adora gets that look of surprise she always gets when Catra tells her she loves her. However, she’s not easily distracted. She can sense that something is up with Catra and glances towards Melog again. They cower on the sheets, somehow shrunk in size, almost hiding beneath the blankets. Their mane is tinted in grey, swirling in anxious waves. Catra concentrates hard to fight the shame that makes her fur bristle and her feet eager to run.

She doesn’t run; instead, she stays and breathes blue back into Melog’s mane.

Adora looks conflicted, but gives her space. She lifts her arm off of Catra and instead trails down her arm with soft fingers, never letting go, to curl around Catra’s tight fist on the railing. Under the touch, Catra slowly releases her grip. When she does, Adora carefully turns her so they face each other. Holding both Catra’s hands, she leans close, bringing their foreheads together. The smile is in her eyes when she whispers, “I love you too,” and leans in to kiss her.

*

[Melog, Catra and Adora sleeping, an illustration by Sasha]

There’s a buzzing sound, the beeping-bubbly noise that usually announces a call at the edge of her consciousness. Catra nuzzles tighter into Adora’s neck. She tries to drown out the sound in the sleepy fog of her dreams, not yet acknowledging that she’s awake. She tries to linger, focussing on the heaviness of her limbs, Adora’s body pressed against her that’s slowly stirring, and Melog’s familiar weight on her waist.

The buzzing doesn’t stop; Adora lets out a groan as she reaches for the trackerpad. Catra grumbles. “Leave it,” she mumbles against Adora’s back, lips trailing over soft skin.

There’s a hand buried in her hair, scratching the back of her neck in a way that makes her purr and press up against Adora. “It’s probably important,” Adora mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

The sudden brightness of the display lighting up makes Catra hiss, which is echoed by Melog. She squints and nuzzles closer to Adora’s shoulder, glaring at the culprit with a sneer.

Entrapta on the other end of the line doesn’t seem to care for the hour, or that she might be waking them up. “We did it!” She full-on squeals , and it’s loud . Catra’s ears pin back, and she growls softly.

Entrapta ignores her as she launches into her speech; she’s in the best of moods, and her pigtails move in wide gestures. “Hordak helped me figure out the calibration of the Velvet Glove systems and we were able to reroute power to the transmitter so it has the range to  send signals to other worlds!”

When Entrapta moves a little to the side, still chatting along idly, there are two pale figures moving around in the background. While Wrong Hordak gives a wink and a thumbs-up, Hordak is bent over … some machine, maybe? Catra narrows her eyes at the screen. It could be the transmitter Entrapta’s rambling about, but she’s not sure.

“Entrapta?” Adora tries to interrupt with a tired voice, but to no avail. Once she gets going, Entrapta cannot be stopped. She delves into some technical detail on the calibrations she did and some sort of equation she tried.

“Entrapta?” Adora tries again, but she’s not persistent enough. She rests her head on Catra’s with a sigh, and Catra can’t help but agree to the unspoken words. It’s definitely too early for this. Melog, as if to confirm that, gives a sleepy mrrp and readjusts so they lay across both of their legs.

“And then Hordak had the best of ideas-” Entrapta still goes on without a care in the world.

“Entrapta,” she growls, louder and rougher than Adora, and it finally gets their friends’ attention.

“Oh, yes?” She looks up, still delighted with her discovery.

“Did you call us to just tell us all that, or do you have an actually urgent reason to wake us in the middle of the night ?”

Entrapta smiles brightly. “I almost forgot about that! We have a call incoming right now, you definitely should be here for it!”

She hangs up without giving any further detail, but it doesn’t take long for a message from Bow to pop up on the screen, reading, “5 mins”. It’s a system they established after both Adora and Glimmer walked in on the other couple respectively without knocking first.

Glimmer and Bow teleport in no less than five minutes later, both still in something of a dishevelled state, sleep in their eyes. Glimmer blinks twice and makes a weird sound that’s swallowed by a yawn into her palm before she makes everyone hold on. Catra feels Adora’s hand in hers, squeezing as she takes one deep breath to will the ever-present nausea that comes with teleporting away.

For a second, she doesn’t exist; it’s the most paradox feeling.

There’s another squeeze of her hand; Catra only opens her eyes again when she knows Adora has materialised back into existence by her side. She blinks, disoriented; they went from a moonlit room in Brightmoon to the labyrinth that is Entrapta’s residence in Dryl.

Entrapta is everywhere within a few seconds. “Come on, you’ll miss it if you don’t hurry!” She doesn’t give any more explanation as she herds them towards her wall of monitors before disappearing behind them. There’s swearing, followed by the sound of electricity crackling, and then more swearing before Entrapta appears again.

“Whoops, we seem to have a tiny problem with the wiring!” Entrapta holds up a finger while she pulls down her mask over her face. “Give me one minute!”

Catra’s glad for the additional minute to settle in. Her post-teleportation nausea is still somewhere in the pit of her stomach, but it fades faster than it used to since she’s been doing it more frequently. She grumbles out of principle with a side glance to Glimmer. What she sees has Melog trail over to the Queen of Brightmoon and nudge her leg softly.

Worry is what floods Catra’s mind, and she agrees with her companion.

Glimmer swallows dryly and presses a hand to her mouth in a motion that’s a universal gesture of feeling sick. She still holds on to Bow’s hand tightly, if the way Bow winces is any indicator, and is incredibly pale.

“Glimmer, are you okay?” Adora has noticed something is off, too. Her expression is concerned.

Their friend gives them a wobbly smile and a shaky thumbs up. “I’m okay,” she breathes, and adds, after a series of incredulous glances from the Best Friend Squad and a headbutt from Melog, “I really am! Stop worrying about me, we’re here for something after all!”

Catra and Adora share a look of concern before Catra looks back to the queen of Brightmoon. They will have a conversation about this, Catra decides as she narrows her eyes at her.

“We’ll talk more later,” Bow promises, and gives them a reassuring smile.

Melog presses themselves into Glimmer’s side and is only satisfied when she scratches their ears. Catra blushes a bit at the cheeky grin Glimmer sends her way as Melog purrs; her tail lashes in embarrassment.

“Aw, you really do care about me,” Glimmer coos.

Next to her, Adora stifles a giggle. Catra huffs and catches her tail to smooth down the fluffed-up fur there, pointedly not looking at any of her friends.

A shrill sound coming from Entrapta’s central terminal catches the group off-guard. Everybody flinches violently, and both Catra and Melog cover their ears with a respective hiss. Catra blinks away tears in her eyes.

“Whoops, sorry!” Entrapta reemerges from behind the wall of screens to step to the central console, seemingly unfazed. She presses a button, two, and the noise dies down. Catra carefully untangles her claws from her hair and unclenches her jaw in relief.

 “What even was this?” Adora asks, sounding just as tired and weary as Catra feels.

Entrapta shrugs, like an eardrum-piercing noise is not a big deal. “Oh, just the connection test I was running while trying to find an open frequency so the other planets could reach us. Was it that loud?” She wonders to herself, pulling out a recording device with one strand of hair. “Note to self, check hearing again; it seems to have deteriorated since experiment 2093-49d failed.”

She presses another series of buttons, and the screens come to light, showing a series of calibrations that use a mix of First One’s sigils, letters of which Catra has learned is a form of intergalactic common, and modern Etherian in a system only Entrapta really understands. Adora furrows her eyebrows at it as she scans over the words out of habit. She points at a series of recurring outputs in First One’s sigils. “... why does this say transfer 63% lunch’ ?”

“Oh, that’s what it says?” Entrapta seems genuinely surprised. “George and Lance were sure it meant ‘complete’ . The number is …,” the purple haired princess trails off for a second, seemingly thinking hard how to explain what her code does. Her eyes trail over their group. There is a tsk sound from behind them, and Catra whirls around to find Hordak and Wrong Hordak standing in the hallway, both carrying platters of tiny cups and tiny food. While Wrong Hordak gives them a happy wave and his trademark wink, Hordak just scowls as he regards them with an unreadable expression.

“It’s an indicator of the quality of connection. 63% is the best I could do so far, with the magical tree distorting the signal boost from the Velvet Glove system. It’s strong enough to reach the entire quadrant, but the transmission as a whole is very unstable,” he explains.

Catra narrows her eyes at Hordak, who continues his path towards Entrapta unimpressed. Melog outright growls at him, mane spiking red. Hordak ignores them and continues his path, although a bit more rigid than before. 

“Yes! We’ve tried to boost the signal as best as we could when we realised a message was coming in,” Entrapta picks up her explanations again, relief written all over her face and unfazed by what is happening behind her back. “We got it up to 63% so far with what we have here but we’d probably need to use the Velvet Glove systems on board the ship and do some repairs to really pick up the message clearly.”

She pauses as Hordak lays out the tiny food and the tiny cups on a small table beside her, gently reminding her to eat. Catra’s fur bristles as she watches the quiet exchange. This is just too odd; seeing him here, friendly with Entrapta (whatever that might entail), helping - that’s a lot to take in.

Melog hisses, again, and Entrapta turns to look at them, then turns to Catra. “My data indicates that Melog usually responds to your emotional distress,” she notes, pulling up some file on her trackerpad. “What is causing it?”

Catra averts her glance, hugging herself. “Nothing,” she mumbles, and feels shame wash over herself. Melog’s mane turns into grey waves as they return to hide behind her, curling around her legs protectively.

Adora steps closer as if she read her mind, sliding her hand into Catra’s, and Catra releases a breath she didn’t realise she was holding when she squeezes lightly, pulling her from her thoughts.

“You mentioned there’s a transmission incoming?” She prompts the purple-haired genius to return to their original topic of conversation.

“Yes,” Entrapta exclaims happily. “I called you here because of it! They’ve been sending the same message in a loop for the last half hour! I think they’re waiting for someone to answer”

Bow’s eyes light up. “That means it’s from a closeby planet!” He exclaims, excited. He nearly leaps over to Entrapta, but is kept from doing so when Hordak steps into the way with a glare.

Entrapta doesn’t notice her lab partner intervening and nods just as excitedly as Bow looks. Her hair keeps pressing a series of buttons, until the screens light up as a new program boots. The design reminds Catra of the communication system on Horde Prime’s now-incapacitated ship just as much as the communication orb on Darla.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come to open the channel,” she proclaims, turning to look at them expectantly as her hair gestures between all of them. “According to my notes, the leaders of the continent’s biggest Alliance and She-Ra are an appropriate choice for first contact.”

What’s probably an off-hand comment causes a moment of tension that translates directly into Adora’s posture changing from attentive to rigidly tense. She seems torn between stepping forward and staying where she is.

“I-”

“You-”

There’s an awkward pause as Adora and Glimmer exchange a glance after speaking up at the same time. Neither of them dare move.

Catra squeezes Adora’s hand that is still in hers and flicks her tail against the back of her knees. That seems to do the trick. The blonde takes a breath and holds onto Catra’s hand tight as she looks over to Glimmer. The Queen of Brightmoon slowly steps forward, turning halfway to look at Adora. 

Adora gives their friend a tense nod. Glimmer seems genuinely surprised and raises an eyebrow as Adora doesn’t move. The two of them share a look that’s full of something that remains unsaid. Then, the blonde swallows thickly. “This is your job after all,” she mumbles, trying for a light tone, and nods towards the communications panel.

Glimmer mouths a thank you before she turns around and fully makes her way to the spot Entrapta indicated before.

Catra slings an arm around Adora’s waist and brushes her tail against her hand in quiet reaffirmation. “Well done,” she mumbles, low enough so only her partner can hear. She tugs to coax Adora to relax against her, and she does. Adora slumps against Catra just the tiniest little bit, tension slipping from her spine. She buries her nose against Catra’s pulse point, mumbling, “You really think so?”

“Yeah,” Catra humms, a low purr vibrating in her chest that’s echoed by Melog. “I do”

“Oh, this is so exciting! It’s the first time a planet makes contact with Etheria!” Entrapta babbles in rapid speed as she presses a series of buttons. “Hordak!” She turns her head towards her lab partner and fires a series of commands at him. Hordak doesn’t even falter, just sits down in a corner to add a series of calibrations. (Catra tries not to be too impressed, but it is, in fact, impressive. Her ears pin back as Melog takes a curious step forward.)

Finally, everything seems to be prepared and set up.

“You ready?” Entrapta asks from her communication panel.

Glimmer takes a deep breath in front of Entrapta’s wall of mismatched screens and nods. Entrapta squeals excitedly and enters the final command to open the line.

“This is Queen Glimmer of Brightmoon,” Glimmer announces into the radio that transmits into the voids of space. “I’m hereby answering your call. Speak freely if you’re a friend of Mara”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the empty cackling of static.

It lasts, and when Entrapta frowns and types something into a keyboard, Glimmer turns around to Catra, Adora, and Bow, expression worried. “What if I messed up? What if they don’t even speak intergalactic common?”

“You did good, Glimmer,” Bow reassures her.

Catra swallows back her doubt, instead giving an awkward thumbs up. “Just like we practiced, Sparkles,” she reassures her friend.

In her periphery, there’s more encouragement from Bow and Adora, and thankfully Entrapta’s resolved whatever problem she’s had. Glimmer snaps back towards the transmission when the static noise breaks apart into words. Everyone grows taut when the message filters through, unclear and interrupted by the tinny rattling and hissing of something in the background.

Catra’s ears twitch as she frowns in concentration. It’s heavily distorted and broken up. Purrs , comes off of Melog as they headbutt Catra’s leg. The magicat gives them a puzzled look. “I’m not purring,” she states, confused. 

“... Queen … Minister … Moon … of Mara”

Catra’s eyes widen as she recognizes the language. When she looks at Adora, she sees her expression mirrored. They speak a form of intergalactic common that’s close to the common taught to them in language classes growing up.

“ … help … She-Ra … magic ... free”

The transmission ends in a tone that sounds like a crash before it devolves into static. After a moment, the whole wall of screens shut off with no further warning. Catra feels her fur bristle as Bow steps up next to Glimmer, to try and activate the radio again.

“What happened?” Is all Catra can think to ask. Her tail swishes anxiously as she watches Entrapta drop to her knees to crawl into some maintenance space beneath the main console. Hordak is by her side in an instant, handing her tools she doesn’t even ask for. 

“Can we send them something, anything ?” Glimmer looks to Bow.

He furrows his brow as he tries a series of commands before stepping back with a sigh. “It’s dead,” he shakes his head, shrugging. “Nothing we can do right now”

Entrapta curses under her breath, and Catra feels a ball of lead in her stomach weighing her down. It’s a bad sign when Entrapta curses in binary.

Melog trails over to Entrapta, resting on their back paws; their mane is bristling in anxious purple. They let out a questioning trill when she wiggles back out from under the console and carefully nudges the closest strand of hair. They’re ignored as Entrapta sighs. She shakes her head, deep in thought, handing Hordak back the tools with her pigtails. “I don’t know what went wrong, we’ve been working on securing the supply grid for so long!”

Hordak looks concerned; it’s a new look on him that makes Catra uneasy. He furrows his brows, looking at the central console. “We’ll have to find what fried the connection to the Velvet Glove system then.”

Entrapta’s face looks blank for a moment, her hair bristling with unspoken emotion, her shoulders drawing upwards tensely. She stares into space for a heartbeat or two. Hordak steps forward. Melog moves between him and Entrapta, letting out a hiss. Their mane bristles in red spikes,  a clear warning. Away , is what they give off in a strong wave.

Hordak takes a step back, clearly startled. He hovers nervously, looking at Entrapta but not daring to approach her. “Entrapta,” he tries, cautiously sending a glance towards Melog. The alien is still crouched in a protective stance. Protection and friend wave off them.

Catra ignores the fond way Adora looks at her as she squeezes her hand.

Entrapta ignores all of this, instead turning to sit cross-legged in front of the central console. She stares at it hard for one very long moment, deep in thought. Then, all of a sudden, her hair starts moving again, fetching tools and a recorder in lightning speed. She starts muttering theories about the supply grid and energy distribution that’s too fast for anyone except maybe Bow to follow. Catra’s ears twitch, and lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

The Best Friend Squad shares a concerned look. Adora mouths, Is she okay? towards Hordak, who shrugs. He looks to Catra, and her fur bristles at the memory of who he once was. “I need to help her,” Hordak negotiates, gesturing to the central console.

Catra narrows her eyes at him.

Hordak looks pained as he adds, “Please, Catra. Let me help.”

Catra has to close her eyes and take one very, very deep breath. She pushes back on Melog’s convictions. She doesn’t know what to feel about Hordak, a former authority figure hovering over her turned … somewhat Etherian. She tries it with accomplice and ally but that doesn’t feel right; Hordak is anything but an accomplice to their plans, and not an ally either.

At a loss, she turns toward Adora. “What does Entrapta call him?” She mumbles, with a subtle nod towards Hordak, who’s still hovering as closely as he can. Adora looks like she’s drawing a blank.

“Lab partner,” Bow chimes in, a smile on his face, giving Hordak a thumbs-up. The former Horde leader clearly has no idea how to react. It’s almost endearing.

“Okay,” Catra gives him a half-smile before she concentrates on that. Lab partner is something Melog will accept. Their mane shifts back to a calmer shade of purple before turning blue again. They flick their ears as they slowly begin to move back to Catra. She lets out a breath as Hordak approaches Entrapta with a tool she’s been asking for from the intestines of her console.

When Melog reaches her, she perches down to wrap her arms around their neck and rub her cheek along their muzzle. “What a day,” she mumbles into their mane, and realises it’s probably not even really day yet. She bites back a groan.

Glimmer slumps down besides her. “You can say that again,” she mumbles and nudges Catra’s shoulder, giving her a lopsided smile. Adora sits cross-legged across from Catra, giving her an encouraging smile, and Bow crouches down besides her. He lays out his trackerpad for them all to look at. “I tried to record it as best as I could,” he explains before looking at them. “What do we do now?”

“We help them,” Adora responds, like it’s easy.

“And how would we do that?” Catra snorts at that and buries her face in Melog’s mane. She feels the others’ glances on her but decides she can hide from the world for another bit. Melog gives a chirp, mane pale blue in a sign of Catra’s feeling of dread.

“... I don’t know,” Adora sighs and reaches forward to pet Melog’s head.

“If Entrapta can get her systems back online, we should be able to ping the location of the message. We know it comes from a closeby planet because it’s a live broadcast, so that’s already something,” Bow hums, deep in thought.

“We’ll be able to go check it out in no time,” Glimmer nods, slowly sliding into the leader and queen mindset she usually has.

Catra groans at the optimism of the group. “We don’t know anything about whoever sent it! This could be a trap! Why are you all so fucking trusting ? I swear, I will never understand how I ever lost to you.”

“Well, we always had She-Ra. That’s a pretty good counter-argument,” Glimmer chuckles and has the nerve to wink at her.

“I hate you,” Catra hisses and buries herself in Melog’s mane again to hide the blush creeping to her cheeks. Melog, the traitor, gives a happy chirp.

There is not much to do but to sit around and wait, so they wait, trying to figure out whatever the weird sounds in the transmission were. Melog pushes purrs into the back of her mind along with a rumbling in their chest that Catra forces down immediately when she sees her friends looking at them. Adora, Bow and Glimmer watch them attentively, and Bow is clearly about to coo , because he always does, but she dismisses them with a shrug, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

They’re interrupted by Entrapta rummaging around in the intestines of her console loudly. There’s the sound of metal being hit with a tool, more rummaging, something creaking awfully loud, and a few more indistinguishable sounds before she shuffles out of the tiny space again.

Entrapta exclaims, “Try turning it on, Hordak!”

She stands up, covered in dust and with a machine oil stain on her cheek. Hordak disappears somewhere behind the monitors as prompted; it’s probably where one of the fuses is. After a moment, there’s a clicking sound and the monitors slowly come to life again. Entrapta mutters something into her recording device while her hair begins to type in rapid speed.

“Come on, Alfie, you can do it,” she tries to talk the console into doing what she wants. “I know you can!”

When it finally comes to life, Entrapta lets out an enthusiastic, “Good boy!”

There’s the sound of something hitting something metallic from behind the screens, and the quiet rumble of a swear word specific to the Horde that has Catra and Adora stifle a laugh. Entrapta seems oblivious to this as her multi-limbed rapid typing continues.

“According to our records the coordinates the transmission was sent from is a planet about Etheria’s size. In some of Darla’s older records, it’s called,” Entrapta pauses to signal Adora to join her. “I’m not sure what this is. Adora?”

The blonde scrambles to her feet, stepping towards the wall of monitors. She wrinkles her nose as she tries to decipher the First One’s sigils on one of the monitors. “Nsf,” she starts, and stops to double-check. “Nsf … Qa-Qamar. It reads Nsf Qamar. I have no idea what that means.”

Something tingles the back of Catra’s head when she hears the foreign words, but it passes too quickly. She wrinkles her nose as she tries to focus on it. Purrs , Melog pushes into Catra’s mind again, startling her. She feels the fleeting tickle in the back of her mind slip her grip and hisses at her companion. Melog stands up to nudge their head against her ears. Catra sighs and crosses her arms in front of her chest, now sitting cross-legged. “I know you’re trying to help, but you’re doing the opposite right now,” she explains quietly. Melog sits down on their back paws and just looks at her with a puzzled expression, their head tilted sideways.

Adora is looking at her over her shoulder, her frown somewhere between reassurance and worry. “I have no idea what that means,” she repeats at a low volume, deep in thought. Catra smiles at her with a nonchalant shrug. You don’t have to , she tries to send Adora’s way.

Meanwhile, the conversation around them has progressed to brainstorming where they could gather more information.

“The records we got from the Velvet Glove files are heavily corrupted since the hivemind was destroyed, ” Entrapta worries as she continues typing, pulling up file after file as if to prove a point. “Hordak and I have been monitoring them after we observed strange behavioral patterns in some of the clones left on Etheria. The slow neurodegeneration is fascinating! Let me just pull up some files on the readings we-”

Catra has no idea what all of that means, but degeneration is never good, and a glance towards Hordak tells her that he’s not happy about this information getting out either. 

“What about Darla’s records?” Bow cuts in, bringing Entrapta back on track.

Entrapta pulls some other files. “The planet has a different name in some of the records we have from Darla, but the coordinates seem to match up. They don’t give us much, however. We know that the surface of the planet was inhabited around a thousand years ago, but there is little information about what kinds of species or climate to expect.”

Glimmer groans. “Why can’t there be one place to know it all?” She complains.

Entrapta looks at her with a neutral expression. It takes Catra a moment to recognise it as her face whenever she tried to explain something to one of the engineers in what she considered layman's terms back during the war. “Darla was not designed to carry a full database,” Entrapta explains slowly. “She only carries what was necessary to navigate across the stars, and that’s about it.”

Adora hums, deep in thought. “The Crystal Castle would’ve given us more, but I haven’t been able to access it since I destroyed the sword.”

Entrapta stares into space for a moment, completely still; then, she takes out her recorder and mumbles into it in light-speed. Catra knows this behaviour; it appears when the purple-haired genius has an idea that’s equally ingenuous and catastrophic. Catra’s fur bristles when she overhears something about restoring computational networks and multidimensional nematodic systems . She has no idea what that means, but it sounds a lot along the lines of the portal all those years ago.

Melog starts to nervously pace between Catra and Adora in response. Adora stumbles forward when they brush against her legs a little too aggressively. They brush against Catra’s back and go back to Adora, one, two, three, four times. They’re only satisfied when Adora is right there , slumping down in front of Adora only to jump back to their feet to circle the two of them all over again. Their tail sways anxiously, mimicking the movements of Catra’s.

She grabs her fluffed up tail in a long-trained habit to smooth it down. Her ears pin back as she holds it tightly, her claws digging in just the slightest bit when she remembers the brute pull of the portal. She swallows dryly as the phantom pain of being shattered time and time again and again lights up her body. She needs-

She acts on instinct, and only comes back to herself moments later. Melog pushes safe into the back of her mind, and suddenly there’s Adora in her way, catching her, holding her by her arms before pulling her in.

Catra blinks, startled.

“Catra, what’s wrong?” Her blue eyes are alight with worry, and Catra’s stomach sinks from the sudden weight of her guilt.

She wraps her arms around Adora and takes a moment to breathe her in. Safe waves off of Melog again, stronger this time, leaving the phantom of many hugs with Adora lingering over the hug they share now.

When she manages to pull back, she licks her dry lips. There is no way she can explain this rationally. “I’m sorry,” she forces out quietly, hoarsely. “I didn’t want to-”

Adora cuts her off by shaking her head. She rubs Catra’s arms firmly, ruffling her fur. She smiles at her. “It’s all good,” she promises before looking to someone - Entrapta? - behind Catra. When she speaks, she suddenly sounds very tired. “We’re not experimenting with anything related to rebooting Light Hope,” she breathes, almost pleading.

There’s a quiet “Of course” that sounds a lot like Bow, and Catra feels relief coming off of Adora. She places her hands firmly on Adora’s shoulders, digging her claws in just enough for Adora to feel the pinpricks through her jacket but not enough to break skin. Adora breathes a little easier, and Catra doesn’t feel as bad as before.

When their eyes meet, they share a tired smile.

“We still have no idea what to expect on Nsf Qamar,” Glimmer announces, which brings them full-circle to the beginning of the conversation.

“I have no idea what that means”, Adora repeats, again, looking at the glyphs on one of Entrapta’s screens again. “It sounds foreign”

Catra snorts. “It’s written in a dead language only you can read,” she points out. “It can’t be more foreign than usual.”

Adora rolls her eyes. “What I mean is that the words don’t really make sense. Usually I know what individual words stand for, but this is just … letters, if that makes sense. They don’t have a meaning in First One’s language.”

Purrs , Melog pushes into her mind again, but Catra brushes them off. She tries to conjure the image of them cuddling in bed to answer them, along with a distinct later . Melog shakes out their mane, seemingly unsatisfied.

“So it could be a word that was originally not First One’s language,” Bow nods, deep in thought. “I’ll ask my dads if they found any similar linguistic features in the records they collected.”

Purrs , Melog insists, again, this time initiating their version of a purr. Catra fights down her own responding purr as she shakes her head at Melog. “Now’s not the time for purring!”

She ignores Bow, who’s about to coo again , and groans as Melog only purrs louder, nudging her ears again. “I have no idea what you want to say, Melog,” Catra massages the bridge of her nose.

They slump down by Adora’s feet, frustration coming off of them in waves as their mane moves to agitated purple ripples. Adora bends down to scratch their head to comfort them.

“Even if we don’t know what’s expecting us exactly , I’m sure it will be fine. It’s not the first time that we go into a situation like this, after all” Adora shrugs, a lopsided smile on her face.

Glimmer nods, a bright smile on her face. “We can do anything!”

Bow fistbumps the air. He exclaims, “Best Friend Squad Space Mission!”

Catra rolls her eyes at that. “You know, you should’ve died so many times in the course of the war, I don’t know how you survived that long,” she mumbles, dragging her hand over her face with a quiet groan. “ Please let’s do some proper research and ask the Star Siblings about it before setting ourselves up for a death trap?”

[Doodle of Catra saying "Basically I joined the rebellion and then we won" to Adora, by CuddlyPoodle]

Chapter Text

They materialise back in front of their bedroom in Brightmoon as the early morning light begins to seep into the high windows of the corridor. Adora squeezes Catra’s hand as she tries to catch on to their new location. She shakes her head to clear her head and regain full control of her limbs again when Adora turns to Glimmer, “Hey, wanna meet up for-”

There’s a squeaky “sorry” left in Glimmer’s wake as the Queen of Brightmoon, a little wobbly and almost as pale as the clones in Dryl, teleports away in a hurry before Adora can finish her sentence.

“-breakfast,” she deadpans, face falling.

The blonde shakes her head in resignation at the residual sparkles where Glimmer disappeared with a sigh, hands resting on her hips. There is tension in her shoulders and jaw, but she swallows the annoyance down she must be feeling. Instead, she turns to look at Catra. “Did she have to do this again?” She complains.

“What did you expect?” Catra flicks Adora’s cheek with her tail. “She’s been doing this for weeks. Who knows what she and Arrow Boy are up to in the mornings.”

“Still,” Adora pouts; Catra bites the inside of her cheek not to tell her how cute she looks. “It shouldn’t be so hard to see each other when you’re living in the same place.”

“They have a life on their own, just like we do,” Catra points out. “Besides that, we’ll have plenty of time in space and on our mission - well, if we don’t die first because it’s actually a trap and you all are just too naive for your own good.”

That entices Adora’s features to brighten a bit, especially when Melog headbutts her for good measure. Adora crouches down to pet their ears, a soft smile on her lips. Her eyes light up with magic, and the two of them share what is their version of a quiet conversation; it’s endearing to witness.

After a while, Adora sighs and stands back up. “You’re probably right,” she stretches, stifling a yawn. “Do you think we have time to lie down again before duty calls?”

It’s a rhetorical question, obviously. Melog yawns loudly before nudging the doors to their room open. They slip inside and walk up to the bed, only stopping to pick up a stray pillow on the floor. Shaking out their mane, they look back at Catra and Adora expectantly.

"Melog says yes, and we know who's boss of nap times," Catra jokes, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Adora giggles. Her alert edges soften in the dim light of the early morning as she finally lets the tension seep from her posture once she's entered the room.

"Thank you, I needed that."

Something stirs in Catra, bubbling out of her mouth before she can catch herself, "I-"

Melog's mane lights up in a colorful swirl of Catra's emotions. She swallows. Just say it, she admonishes herself. It's not that hard. Say 'I want a little-'

Adora halts her spiralling thoughts. "You okay?" She stenches of worry, and she must know that something is up.

"I-," Catra opens her mouth, but-

She quickly shakes her head and pushes Adora further in before kicking the door shut behind them with her bare foot. "I need a nap to function," is what she goes for instead. 

Melog trots back to Adora to help herd her in the direction of the bed. She laughs at their antics and sits down on the edge of the mattress to peel off her boots and wiggle out of her clothes. Catra, too, casually strips down to her underwear as Melog rearranges the mess of pillows and blankets they left into a makeshift pillow fort.

When they’re satisfied with the result, they knead the surface a few times before slumping into the middle of the nest, tucking their limbs beneath their body right where a beam of the day moon streams in through one of the windows.

Catra stays back half a step to watch what’s happening, hands resting on her hips. “What do you think you’re doing?” She questions sceptically.

Nest, is what they push into Catra’s mind with clear intent.

She startles and feels herself flush deeply as her fur bristles at the mental image. “What the-”, she cuts off, only to groan at her companion. She stares them down with a snarl, but her lashing tail gives away her embarrassment. Melog’s mane shifts to a curious shade of pink that has Adora laughing.

Adora reaches over to pet their head with a cheeky smile on her face. “Sometimes I’d love to know what you two discuss,” she admits with a soft expression.

“No, you don’t,” Catra growls. She turns back toward Melog. “This is not funny,” she insists, grabbing her lashing tail.

Melog purrs mischievously, clearly enjoying the attention. Catra stomps over with a hiss, wrapping herself into Adora’s arms. She glares at the alien feline with narrowed eyes. Mine she shoves their way a little forcefully. Melog, unfazed, shakes out their mane. 

Adora’s laugh only grows louder as she wraps her arms around Catra. “Why didn’t you say that you wanted cuddles?” She teases.

Melog only gives a happy mrow in response, visibly satisfied with themselves.

“You’re such a little shit sometimes,” Catra groans, exasperated, meaning both of them. She doesn’t acknowledge Adora’s words as she lets herself be wrapped into the embrace. She breathes as she rubs her cheek against Adora’s now bare shoulder absentmindedly.

Melog nudges nest into the back of her mind again, gentler this time. It feels more like an invitation than teasing. It’s accompanied by the feeling of stretching out in the half-shade beneath a tree in the garden, the light from the day moon filtering in through the leaves. She doesn’t know if it’s a dream or a wish or something Melog made up themselves; there’s Adora lying against her and Melog and a little-

Catra halts her thoughts as her heart contracts with the kind of want that hurts. She breathes in. Holds her breath for one, two, three - breathes out.

“What-,” she blinks at Melog, who, for once, does not give her emotions away. They purr audibly, nudging Adora’s elbow with their head.

“You want scritches too?” Adora offers, extending one hand to place on Melog’s head. If she notices the shift that goes through Catra, she doesn’t comment on it. She holds her instead: firm but not in a way that would be restrictive, and lets her breathe, rubbing slow circles into her back.

After a while, Catra feels more like herself again. Carefully, she untangles herself from the blonde to make her way over to the middle of the nest, tugging Adora along. She nudges Melog to scoot over. “This is my spot,” she demands. They reluctantly move to the edge of the nest, stretching out with a yawn as they settle down again.

Catra and Adora smile at each other as they lie down themselves. They lauch as they arrange their limbs around each other. In the end, they're tangled into one another, Adora’s arm heavy on Catra's waist, heads bedded on Melog’s back. Soft light sifting in through the open window bathes them as the world outside slowly comes to life.

Catra’s tail thuds lazily onto the mattress as she listens to Adora’s slowly setting breathing and Melog’s quiet purr that echoes the sleepy one in her chest.

Her eyelids droop just when Melog carefully nudges the back of her mind with another image. It’s an unfamiliar setting, but fuzzy like a picture out of focus; Melog’s memories often are. The feeling the image carries, however, is clear: family.

It makes Catra’s heart ache.

She shifts, presses her back into Melog, laying her tail over them and curls into Adora, impossibly closer, shifting her head to her chest until she can lie her ear over her steady heartbeat. Catra vividly remembers when Adora’s heartbeat was all she could hear. Adora gives a quiet hum, half-asleep, as she tightens her grip around her.

The feeling sparks and ignites her heart, spreading throughout her body, until she flickers with I want a little one.

[Illustration of Catra, Adora, and Melog cuddling by CuddlyPoodle]

Maybe they just lie there, maybe one of them or both doze off eventually. Catra doesn’t feel like she slept when she cracks open an eye at the familiar noise announcing an incoming call. She sits up and rubs at her eyes, ignoring the feeling of déjà-vu as Adora reaches for the trackerpad, hair messy and squinting at the brightness of the display.

“And here I thought duty might skip out on us today,” Catra sighs. Melog behind her huffs in agreement. Catra sends them a lopsided smile over her shoulder. “You can say that again, Melog.”

She dangles her tail in front of them to playfully swat at it.

Adora rolls her eyes at their antics before she taps the trackerpad to answer the call. It’s Scorpia.

“Hi you two! Did I wake you up?!” She beams at them through the screen. There’s Perfuma in the background, bent over some kind of plant, a bundle on her back with a white head of hair peeking out. She looks as tired as Catra feels but smiles happily as she waves at them.

“Hi Scorpia,” Adora smiles at their friend. “What’s up?”

Catra just gives them a curt nod when she leans into the frame. She frowns when a movement at the edge of the screen catches her attention. Scorpia’s tail twitches; it always does when she’s nervous.

Catra feels her world narrow down to the movement despite her best effort to pay attention to what’s said. She gulps; her tail sways, then stills as her ears perk forward. Catra bites her lip, hard. Focus, she tells herself and feels that sentiment echoed in Melog softly tugging at the hem of her shirt. She focuses on Scorpia instead.

She’s nervous; Catra can see it in the stiff edges on her smile. She looks like she’s about to burst, and Catra really can’t tell if it’s the good or the bad kind of bursting.

“I’m so glad I reached you! There’s been a slight issue with one of the cargo transports from Scorpion Hill, and it’s not a big thing, y’know, nothing that would necessarily need you, but, y’know, I need to go there, and, y’know, Flora is just so little and Perfuma would be all by herself, and I - well, I thought, hey, why not ask if you were in the area, and-”

Just like predicted, Scorpia can’t keep the nervous energy she’s projecting to herself anymore. And when Scorpia’s nervous, she rambles.

Catra sighs inaudibly before she cuts in, because Adora is too polite to do it, “Scorpia, slow down! I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Whoo boy, okay, uhm-,” Scorpia takes an audible breath. “So, uhm, Flora is just so small, and Perfuma, you know, she’s great, but she’s also so so tired, because we’ve been sharing night shifts and I-” She trails off, looking like she’s at a loss for words.

“Scorpia,” Adora takes over and interrupts Scorpia, voice soft as she pieces together the scrambled bits of information. “You have to go do something you need us for?”

“Yes,” Scorpia nods, relief clear in her face. Her tail stops twitching and distracting Catra, instead slowing down to sway behind her. That’s a clear sign she’s calming down. Catra lets out a breath of relief.

“And you don’t want to leave Perfuma and Flora alone?” Adora continues.

Scorpia nods again, a smile spreading on her face.

“Well,” Adora shoots Catra a questioning look. Catra knows it’s just for show because it’s Scorpia, and because it’s Scorpia - well, it’s Flora, actually, her favorite (and only) niece - there is no way they could say ‘no’. She huffs and crosses her arms in front of her chest and tries her best to look annoyed to save face despite it.

Adora catches her happily swaying tail and gives her a shit-eating grin as she pets it from base to tip. Of course she sees right through her. Catra still hisses for good measure, before stating, “Fine, we’ll babysit.”

She can’t give in that easily, after all. She doesn’t want all of their friends to know how soft she’s become. Sometimes, it’s easier to keep up the front of her old grumpy self, but her heart’s not in it anymore. Melog perks their head into the screen and meowls, mane blue and dancing in happy waves that give her away.

On the other end of the line, Scorpia makes a delighted sound. “Flora will be so happy to see her favorite aunts!”

She looks to Perfuma, who perks up, visibly relieved. “That’s lovely!”

They talk a bit more about their means of transportation; it appears Darla is needed, and Catra is a little relieved not to have to teleport again so soon. “It will be a good chance to see if we need anything else done on Darla before going off to Nsf Qamar,” Adora muses.

“You’re going on holiday?” Scorpia exclaims, excitedly. That seems to stir Flora, because the bundle on Perfuma’s back starts to squirm, and there’s a series of noises that only can come from Flora. Scorpia shoots an apologetic look towards Perfuma and clicks her pincers before scratching the back of her head awkwardly. “Whoops, heh, the little one demands attention. I’m so so sorry, I’d love to chat more but I need to-”

“It’s fine, Scorpia,” Catra cuts in to stop her friend’s ramble before it can fully take off, sanding down the edges of her annoyance with a reassuring smile.

Adora leans in, promising, “We’ll see you in a bit, we can talk then!” 

When they end the transmission, Adora smiles brightly at Catra, eyes lighting up with magic. “Did you hear that?” She beams. “We’re Flora’s favorite aunts!”

Melog purrs loudly as they drop down into a position that’s universal for play as Catra schools herself to hold back a smile. “Just so you know, I’m the more favorite aunt,” she teases.

*

About an hour later Catra is stretched over a pillow and watches Melog roll in the grass as Perfuma hands her a cup of tea. Adora and Scorpia are off to the mission while Catra hangs back with Perfuma to keep her company. Perfuma is supposed to take a nap, actually, but has not made any motion to follow up with that.

The magicat takes a tentative sip and nods at her friend. “Almost as good as Scorpia’s special blend,” she compliments.

Perfuma’s tired smile shines as bright as the day moon as her eyes wander over to where her and Scorpia’s daughter is zig-zagging through the high grass behind Melog. She’s squealing with joy.

“You know, she’s been teaching me to make tea the Scorpioni way,” Perfuma tells her like it’s a private little secret without taking her eyes off her daughter. The sudden intimacy of it astounds Catra. She sends her friend a surprised look before she trails her eyes down to the tea, cautiously smiling as she sets it down carefully.

She opens her mouth, fully intending to compliment her host, but -

“I didn’t think Scorpia ever offered to teach anyone how to make tea,” is what comes out instead. Wow, this was not what she intended to say. She tries to dampen the sharpness of her tone as much as she can, to make it sound conversational, but a pang of jealousy is there, burning hot in her chest.

A flicker of blue turning anxious purple in the high grass catches the corner of her eye. Catra sees Flora pause with wide eyes. Perfuma throws her a concerned look from across the small table in the middle of the seating area. Catra shakes her head and tries not to focus too hard on the way her fur bristles at the unwanted attention. 

Flora makes a curious noise as she takes a step forward to touch Melog’s flickering mane. The alien feline pulls back a little, only to nudge Flora’s hand cautiously with their muzzle, sharing the feeling with Catra in a wave of child that is warm like a nap in a summer breeze.

Catra focuses on that for a breath. She clutches the cup a little too hard as she concentrates on willing blue back into Melog’s mane.

When she redirects her attention to Perfuma, the other woman has a friendly smile on her face that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Perfuma is good at hiding her emotions behind a smile, but Catra knows her well enough to see right through it. She’s clearly feeling mixed emotions beneath the exhaustion that’s written all over her features.

Catra’s ears twitch and her tail swishes anxiously as Perfuma takes a deep breath; it’s the kind she only does when she has to ground herself. She’s concerned, and it comes off like the strong smell of elderflowers that bloom in her flower crown.

Silence stretches between them for one tense moment, but it’s ruined by the strong smell surrounding them. Catra wrinkles her nose and sneezes because of it. They share a look and giggle, and Catra sighs in relief when the flowers around her disappear back to the ground. “I’m sorry, sometimes I’m still bad at,” Catra gestures at herself. “all of this. It’s nothing personal.”

“I know,” Perfuma smiles encouragingly. “I know the transition has not been easy - for any of us”

Perfuma pauses, probably waiting for Catra to look up. Irises bloom around them all of a sudden, weaving into Perfuma’s flower crown, and while Catra doesn’t know what the flowers mean exactly, she knows it’s probably something mushy.

They sit in silence for a while; Perfuma is clearly waiting for Catra to look up. She feels her ears twitch forward, but stubbornly refuses to meet her friend’s eye. Instead, she eyes the tea in her cup, looking for the small differences that make it different from Scorpia's. The color is off a tad, and there's some tea leaves at the bottom of the cup.

"Catra," Perfuma finally speaks up when she realises that this is something she cannot win. "You've been working so hard. I want you to know that both Scorpia and I and many others see that."

There's a smile in her voice. Catra’s ears pin flat to her head at the soft voice she recognises from the time Perfuma implored it’s hard to keep your heart open, and, later, I see how hard you work to make things better, but don’t forget about yourself. By now, three years after the end of the war, Catra still feels like she has days where she takes two steps forward and five steps back, despite what Perfuma just said.

A loud giggle makes her turn around. Flora has somehow managed to climb Melog’s back, holding on tight with her small pincers as Melog carefully struts around with her. They purr audibly as they parade her around like a noble steed. There’s the image of Swift Wind pushed to the back of her mind that clearly comes from her alien companion, and Catra can’t help but snort. Perfuma shoots her a surprised glance.

“They’re pretending to be Adora and Swift Wind,” Catra explains, stifling her laugh behind her hand. “At least according to Melog. I’m not sure how much of a say your little one gets in this.”

Perfuma laughs and a rose bush nearby starts sporting light pink and yellow roses. "You know, I can absolutely see that."

They watch Melog parade Flora around a bit longer. When Flora grows tired of holding on, they slowly trot back to where Catra and Perfuma are sprawled over a series of pillows and lay down carefully onto their stomach to let Flora get off. When the toddler is back on her own feet, she looks at Melog with big eyes. The Krytian sits onto their back paws and waits for her to approach again, which she does with wobbly steps, teeny tiny baby pincers outstretched towards the alien. Melog watches her every move, ears twitching. They give the same tentative mrrp sound when they first met Catra. She’s half-expecting them to sneeze, just like when they found each other on Krytis. Instead, they lean their head to their side playfully, curious as Flora wraps her soft pincers around them. She buries her face in their fur, giggling.

“Are you done playing horsies now?” Catra teases. She smiles at Melog, who meets her eyes. They give an inquisitive mrrp, and the vague sensation of riding on Swift Wind’s back pushes into her mind. Catra blinks in surprise. Huh. Melog probably caught the sensation second-hand from her when Adora and Swift Wind teamed up and dared Catra to do loop-di-doops on She-Ra’s noble steed. Melog gives a happy chirp, and Catra’s fur bristles at the promise of mischief in it. She narrows her eyes at them. “Oh no,” she protests. “You won’t.”

Melog just flicks one of their ears. There’s a mischievous tint to the blue of their mane now. Catra has a premonition on what they’re about to do.

“You won’t,” Catra repeats, but it is in vain. She notices Perfuma giving her a puzzled glance, but chooses to ignore it as she braces herself for the phantom of sensation that follows Melog’s memories of her flight. It’s as sudden as the loop-di-doop Swift Wind chose to surprise her with when she stiffly sat on his back. Just like back then, her stomach drops with a wave of nausea. She grips the table in front of her tightly as her stomach follows the feeling of the next loop-di-doop on the winged horse’s back.

She fights another wave of nausea as she glances at her companion. “I hate you,” she grits out through her teeth. Melog has the audacity to happily mrrp at her.

“Catra, are you okay?”

Perfuma is suddenly there, too close, blackthorn winding itself into her hair as she holds Catra’s hand. Catra bristles at the contact, and she yanks her hand away with a hiss. Melog’s mane flashes to a spiky, alarmed red that startles Flora. The toddler stumbles backwards and falls on her bottom. Her eyes grow big. Catra feels like watching a slowed down version of reality when the little one’s mouth begins to quiver. Her big eyes slowly fill with tears as she looks between Perfuma and Catra, and Catra -

Catra just reacts as the baby starts to sob, first quietly, then increasing in volume. Her ears pin back at the noise, and she looks at Melog, who gives an air of indifference, as if this was not completely their fault.

“This is your fault,” Catra mutters under her breath as she scrambles to her knees to reach Flora.

Her companion gives a quiet mrrp sound from the back of their throat that is definitely mocking. Catra rolls her eyes at Melog as she moves to pick the crying toddler up into her arms. 

“Okay, okay,” she hectically tries to soothe the infant. “It’s going to be okay!”

Her voice sounds shrill in her own ears, and obviously her own agitation does nothing to calm Flora down. Melog lazily nudges their head against her elbow, and a wave of calm down passes over Catra. She narrows her eyes at the alien. “Duh,” she retorts defensively, rolling her eyes. “I am calm!”

She’s not.

She knows it, and Melog knows it, and Perfuma knows it. Fuck, why does Perfuma not deal with her own child?

Flora wails even louder and clutches her tightly and that drowns out every other thought. She tangles her pincers in Catra’s hair and pulls. Catra’s ears ring from the high-pitched cry, and she blinks back tears of her own because fuck, it hurts.

Melog nudges her again, sending another wave of calm, this time feeling like laughing with Adora about something stupid when they prepare to go to sleep. Catra swallows down the sudden lump in her throat and eyes Flora.

“Okay,” she repeats, voice rough but this time more calmly. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

She slowly rocks the toddler in her arms. Flora stills, big eyes watching Catra’s every movement attentively.

“See?” Catra allows herself to smile as she breathes a sigh of relief. “Nothing wrong here. All good.”

She glances over at Perfuma, suddenly realising she’s there. It’s awkward to say the least, to have Perfuma watch her, the flower crown sporting lavender that matches her glowing smile. Catra clears her throat and wrinkles her nose at the smell as she nods to Flora in her arms. “You want her back?” is what comes out of her mouth somewhat awkwardly.

Perfuma’s smile is still there as she shakes her head, eyes soft. “I think I’m ready for that nap I was promised, since you seem to have everything under control.”

*

Perfuma is fast asleep on one of the pillows, moonflowers blooming around her. Catra only has the heart to wake her up when Darla’s shadow glides over them from high above. Flora and Melog both look up, following the space ship’s movement cutting through the clear sky. The little one babbles excitedly and holds out her pincers to Catra in a motion that is universal for hold me.

Catra looks at Perfuma, who just smiles, and crouches down to scoop Flora up. Her arms wrap around Flora almost automatically, pulling her into an embrace. Flora gives a contented giggle, wrapping tiny arms around Catra’s neck. Her pincers tangle into her shoulder-length hair.

“Hey, ouch,” Catra admonishes softly, but with a smile on her face. She blushes when she meets Perfuma’s gaze, whose smile is radiant as pink carnations weave and bloom into her hair. It makes something stir in Catra, and she instinctively holds Flora tighter. The little one giggles into her ear and pulls her hair. Catra looks the other way, rolling her eyes fondly. Then, she nods towards the platforms nearby that are used as landing space for aircrafts. “Come on, they’re about to land.”

Melog, the traitor, rubs their head against Perfuma’s legs, pushing friend into the back of Catra’s mind. It feels like eating cake with your hands and endless nights of giggling and board games. Catra buries her nose in Flora’s hair to hide her smile.

[Illustration of Catra and Flora, by CuddlyPoodle]

They make their way over to the platforms. Something in the back of Catra’s mind stirs when they step onto the sun-warm metal floor that is covered in moss and vines; there’s a faint memory of naps on heated pavement that’s too flimsy to catch.

They watch Darla touch down on the platform, shielding their eyes against the gust of hot wind that rushes over them. Catra’s ears pin back at the hydraulic hissing when the loading hatch opens.

Lilies of the valley spring to life at Scorpia’s feet when she exits the cargo hold. Perfuma smiles at her as they share a chaste kiss before Catra releases Flora into Scorpia’s arms. She hugs her little pincers around Scorpia’s neck, but not for long. Instead, the little Scorpioni squirms and wiggles out of Scorpia’s arms to climb to her back with ease.

Scorpia tries to stay still, hunched forward the slightest bit, a smile on her face as she leans in again to kiss Perfuma. “How did it go? Were you able to get some rest?” She asks, smiling softly.

“Yes, actually. Catra had everything under control,” Perfuma glances over to Catra, a warm smile on her lips. Catra busies herself looking into the opposite direction, her face hot with a blush that won’t be hidden by the thin layer of fur on her face. She clears her throat as Melog strolls forward to rub their head against Perfuma’s leg in affection. Perfuma giggles and bows down to pet them.

Friends, is what Melog contributes to the conversation, purring contentedly. Catra rolls her eyes at them fondly.

They perk up simultaneously with Catra when a familiar walking pattern comes close to the loading hatch. Catra’s world narrows down to Adora as she watches her exit the loading hatch to join them. She distantly hears Scorpia and Perfuma call out to them what probably is a teasing remark about how wrapped up in each other they are, but she doesn’t care. Catra moves without thinking; so does Adora. They meet in the middle of the platform, a few steps away from their friends. Catra stretches up, Adora, still tingling with magic, bows down; their foreheads touch as their eyes meet for a breath before they kiss.

When Catra opens her eyes again, Adora has transformed back, but still looks at her with the smile that makes her eyes shine. “Hi,” she greets, voice low and private.

“Hey, Adora,” is what comes out of Catra’s mouth, a half-smile tugging at her lips. It’s both the same and softer than it used to be; this new shade overlays the past ones uttered by a confused, love-struck teenager and a spiteful young adult with a broken heart. Melog meows.

Adora leans in again to touch their foreheads together, laugh lines deeper now from the fond smile that lights up her features. She hums as she pulls back a little to look around. “This looks so much like our old platform,” she muses.

“I guess so,” Catra determines after looking around herself. “I mean, it could be it, but this place has changed so much it’s hard to say.”

“Perfuma and I did our best to make it a good place to be!” Scorpia chimes in, smiling broadly. 

“You really did,” Adora agrees, trailing her eyes around in wonder. “Sometimes I still can’t believe it’s the same place.”

“We’ve been doing research on the old kingdoms that were located here before the Horde took over,” Perfuma explains, crouching down to pet Melog. “There is so little out there about Scorpia’s family since most records were destroyed, though, so we had to get a bit creative.”

“Creative how?” Adora asks, a confused look on her face.

“We found people that originally lived here all over Etheria!” Scorpia chimes in with a broad smile and sparkling eyes. “I thought my people were all gone, but they’re still there!”

“With their help, we were able to piece together quite a bit of how the area looked like before the beginning of the war,” Perfuma continues, a proud smile on her lips. “We’re trying to rebuild as much as we can.”

“We want to make it a good place to return to,” Scorpia exclaims. Flora contentedly gurgles, climbing up to look over Scorpia’s shoulder. Scorpia smiles at her and tilts her head to press a soft kiss to her daughter’s temple. She adds, a little more quietly, “... and to grow up in”

“That’s,” Catra’s at a loss of words. She clears her throat. “That’s … lovely.”

“Oh, and Wildcat, you will love this!” Scorpia perks up at her. “Did you know that there was a Magicat settlement close to Scorpion Hill? We could’ve been friends no matter what, be there war or no war! That is, if you were born there, and we haven’t found anything about that yet. But just think-”

Scorpia rambles on, completely taken by happy fantasies of how they would’ve met even if Hordak never had touched down on Etheria.

Catra-

Melog meowls as their mane flickers to anxious spikes of yellow. They leave a confused Perfuma to press against the back of Adora’s legs, making themselves small as if to hide.

Catra takes a breath, completely overwhelmed with this new information. She closes her eyes when she feels the weight of Adora’s touch on her shoulder as Melog pushes calm into the back of her mind. It carries the smell of a campfire in the Whispering Woods and the taste of pie and the many made-up names of stars glistening above on her tongue. She concentrates on that as she breathes.

“What-,” Catra has to stop and try again, clearing her throat to croak out, “What did you find out about them?”

“Maybe we should sit down for another cup of tea for this,” Perfuma gently intercepts.

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea! We haven’t had a cup of tea together in ages, Wildcat!” Scorpia exclaims and turns to head towards the meadow.

Perfuma smiles at that, shaking her head in slight exasperation before she turns back to Catra and Adora. “We’ll go ahead to give you another minute!”

She turns to follow her partner too quickly to hear Catra’s quiet “Thanks, Perfuma”. 

Adora bumps their shoulders together gently. “Hey Catra,” she says, voice low, gesturing to their surroundings. “It really is different here, isn’t it? It never occured to me how much.”

Catra hums, deep in thought. She squeezes Adora’s hand, and Adora squeezes right back. “Maybe that’s not so bad. We’re different too after all,” she remarks in the same tone of voice.

They share a private smile.

“It kind of fits,” Adora agrees.

Melog trills in agreement, rubbing their cheek over their joined hands before they stroll after Scorpia and Perfuma. After a few steps, they stop to look back, a clear signal for Catra and Adora to join them.

Scorpia moves with a spring in her step. She smiles at something Perfuma says as Flora giggles with her mother’s every rocking move. The little one holds on tight with her pincers. It looks like it hurts, but Scorpia doesn’t make a face. Family is what Melog pushes into the back of her mind, and it’s accompanied with the feeling of lying in that little nest of theirs this time. Catra smiles at the thought.

“Thanks, buddy,” she mumbles and pets along their back. Melog purrs; it’s loud enough to announce to their friends that they’ve caught up. Scorpia turns around to greet them with a smile. When she turns back to face forward, Flora giggles and slips. It’s just for a second before she holds on tight again, but Adora’s breath hitches, and Catra feels her tense up.

Adora steps just a little to get closer, shoulders tense and jaw set. There’s determination in her features as she watches Flora with no mind for Scorpia’s swaying tail; it’s a little too close to Adora for Catra’s liking. The magicat carefully reaches out, trying to tug just the slightest bit to signal Adora to take a step back.

The blonde doesn’t move, her lip worried between her teeth.

Catra opens her mouth to admonish her for standing too close, but stops herself when she notices how focussed Adora is on Flora. She’s ready to jump, Catra realises with a start. She’s worried.

She fights down the sudden urge to shove herself in harm’s way, reminding herself that this is Scorpia. Scorpia doesn’t hurt people.

Still; the feeling is there. It resides in her belly, slowly taking up the space until Catra’s sure it will just swallow her whole as it continues to grow outward. She breathes in, and as her ribs expand she realises it’s love that takes her breath away and burns with the intensity of the suns they saw in other galaxies.

I want-

Suddenly, Melog is right there, manifesting out of thin air as they tackle Adora to the ground with a happy mrrp. Adora cries out as she falls, a loud “oof” accompanying the air pushed out of her lungs. Melog don’t seem to mind; they purr as they lick Adora’s face enthusiastically, mane moving in happy blue swirls. “Stop it, Melog, stop!” Adora groans and laughs a breathless laugh as she tries to half-heartedly fend off the alien’s ambush of affection. She gasps as she tries to push their muzzle away from her face.

Melog only backs off hesitantly to let Adora sit up. They meow happily as Adora scratches them behind one ear. Adora looks at Catra, ponytail dishevelled, a few loose strands hanging into her face. There’s a warm spark in her eyes as she asks, “What was that?”

You, is what Catra wants to say, but instead averts her gaze, shrugging as nonchalantly as she can. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies as she feels a blush heating her face as Melog licks her cheek with a purr.

“Aw, you like me,” Adora teases, looking directly at Catra. Catra doesn’t need to see her shit-eating grin to know it’s there. “How embarrassing for you”

“I don’t like you,” Catra protests. She crosses her arms over her chest and blushes more when their eyes meet. She adds, softer, “I love you.”

Adora’s eyes shine with magic as she tries to rein in her radiant smile. “I love you too,” she returns a little breathless.

They’re distracted by a yelp. Scorpia makes a face as she twists in an attempt to look over her shoulder. “You wanna get down?” She asks Flora with a smile in her voice despite her obvious pain. The little one responds in a series of happy baby noises and clumsily starts moving down Scorpia’s back.

[Doodle of Scorpia with Flora on her back, by CuddlyPoodle]

Adora’s right there in an instance, hovering close. Scorpia notices this time; she smiles at Adora over her back, carefully swinging her tail out of range. Catra relaxes immediately. “Climbing people comes naturally to us, but getting down is just as important, and takes a bit more practice,” she explains.

“From what Scorpia’s told me, Scorpioni children never fall,” Perfuma tries to ease Adora’s worries and gestures to Flora. The little one makes a series of noises as she continues her way down Scorpia’s back. She frowns in concentration - it’s adorable.

“That’s right, they never do!” Scorpia confirms, turning just a little to get a better look at Flora. “Oh, that’s the trickiest part. Just go slow, buddy, you’re doing great! I was the clumsiest little Scorpioni, but look at me! I’m still in one piece!”

Catra bites back a snort and shares a look with Perfuma. Adora gives a jerky nod, obviously not convinced. She keeps hovering, a worried expression on her face.

Flora masters the last bump and slides down Scorpia’s tail with a happy squeal. Melog greets her by gently nuzzling her face. Flora giggles and hugs their muzzle close.

Adora smiles at that. She lets out a breath and lets her shoulders slump just a little. “Hey,” Catra bumps her shoulder into Adora’s, sending her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. Flora’s okay. Just come sit, Adora.”

Adora nods numbly, and follows as Catra lightly tugs at their joined hands. Melog supports her by headbutting into Adora’s legs from behind. Together, they coax her to sit down on one of the pillows. Perfuma is right there, handing them each a cup filled with tea. When she fills Catra’s cup, she holds her gaze with a smile on her face. “Are you ready to hear more?”.

Catra draws a blank; she has no idea how to feel about all this. She should feel something, shouldn’t she?

Ears pinning forward, she hesitates, but nods. “What- What did you find out?”

“Unfortunately, the settlement was abandoned when the Horde occupation really took off. So, what we have … it’s actually not that much,” Perfuma apologizes.

Melog’s mane shifts between different colors, waving in anxious swirls. Catra closes her eyes, concentrating on calm for them with a low purr vibrating in her chest. She conjures the mental image of the Whispering Woods in the fall, focussing on the feeling of damp moss beneath her bare feet.

She opens her eyes when Melog echoes her purr and gives Perfuma a small nod. “That’s,” she clears her throat. “That’s okay, I think. I’d like to hear more.”

Scorpia and Perfuma exchange a look. “Where should we start?”

Perfuma thinks before reaching for the trackerpad. “What we know is mostly from stories we heard from people who heard it from other people, so … we’re not sure what’s reliable information and what’s pure fiction.”

Flora tugs at her dress with a noise. Perfuma smiles down at her and hands Scorpia the trackerpad to pick her up and hold her.

“The settlement has different names in the stories, but they always involve ‘Moon’,” she explains. “There’s different opinions about what happened after the Horde came. According to some stories, they went into hiding in the mountains, and other tales say something about a- what? An underground labyrinth? That doesn’t sound right.”

“It’s what it says,” Perfuma shrugs. “From the landmarks the stories mention the settlement probably was located in the mountain range South of Scorpion Hill. And … that’s about it. I’m sorry we cannot give you more.”

“We’re happy to send you everything we collected, though! Maybe you’ll be able to make more sense out of it with the resources you have in Brightmoon and the sorcerers in Mystacor,” Scorpia offers. “We haven’t had the chance to talk to them yet!”

It’s more than Catra ever expected to know, and yet so little. Catra blinks. She feels … empty, and she still doesn’t know what to make of this new information. She doesn’t dare look up. Instead, she turns the cup in her hands. It’s warm to the touch. Adora gently catches her tail and pets along it slowly. Catra focuses on the warmth seeping in through her fingers and the pattern Adora leaves as she cards over her tail.

“... thank you,” is what comes out in the end. Catra takes a breath and looks up, “I mean it. Thank you for telling me about this.”

There’s a squeak, and Flora wiggles out of Perfuma’s arms with a happy sound. Perfuma laughs as Flora crawls over to Adora lightning fast, and grabs onto Adora’s jacket sleeve to pull herself up to stand. She looks up, grass and wild flowers in her hair and on her pincers. Adora laughs as she picks the greenery off Flora. Flora extends her pincers, frowning in concentration, in a motion that Catra recognises from earlier; she wants to be held. Adora looks at her, clearly drawing a blank.

“Uhm,” Adora throws Perfuma a look full of insecurity. “What does she want me to do?”

“Just pick her up,” Catra instructs before Perfuma can answer, mimicking picking up a kid.

Adora blinks at her in surprise before turning to Flora. She smiles softly as she follows suit and scoops Flora into her lap. “How’s my favorite niece doing?” She coos, ruffling Flora’s wavy white hair. Flora giggles and nuzzles into Adora’s colar, wrapping her arms around Adora’s waist. All of Adora lights up.

A branch of lavender appears in Flora’s hair, and Catra can’t help but smile when she notices Perfuma watching, a quiet smile on her face.

“Ah, look at them!” Scorpia sighs, completely taken with the view. She wraps an arm around Perfuma, who giggles. “She really loves spending time with you.”

“Both of you,” Perfuma adds, pointedly looking at Catra. Catra feigns an air of indifference as she looks away to hide her smile.

“We really love her too,” Adora freely admits, leaning in to tickle Flora, who squeals in delight. She buries her nose in Flora's hair, and if there's a hint of magic around her, nobody comments on it.

Melog bumps their head into Catra’s arm, nudging her with love that feels like coming to her senses in the wake of She-Ra's magical glow and wrapped into Adora, finally in control of her own body and mind again. She purrs as she wraps an arm around them, leaning close.

"And both of you are really good with her! I bet both of you would make great moms!” Scorpia beams at them.

Catra's fur bristles, and she turns to Adora, who’s sitting motionless, turned inward. The want that has been flickering in her chest hurts as it makes its way up to her throat with flames lighting up her vocal chords. She swallows.

I want-

Adora loses the magical glow around herself as she meets Catra's eyes. "We …," she licks her lips, insecure as she cradles Flora close. "We haven't really talked about that yet."

Melog's mane flickers to white as they cower, ready to run and disappear. Adora reaches out to pet them soothingly, open worry in her features. They flinch when she touches them, and she retreats again. Adora shrinks into herself around Flora, who looks up at her with a confused sound, shoulders dropping.

Catra’s heart aches.

“Yeah,” Catra quietly agrees, averting her eyes. “Never thought about it.” She doesn't trust her voice to say any more, doesn't trust the burning in her chest that could spring forth any second now, ruin-

Not anymore, she decides.

It’s a conscious effort to reach out. Catra swallows around the lump in her throat and focuses on where she is, who she’s with, and what she feels for Adora. Stay, is what she tries to convey with her extended hand. She holds her breath as Adora hesitates. She seems torn; there’s the tension of what’s yet unsaid and the need to do the right thing - even though there is no right thing to do.

When she squeezes Catra’s hand, Catra squeezes right back, letting out a breath. There's a purr in the air; it takes her a second to realise it comes from both her and Melog.

Coronals of sweetpeas appear on Adora, Catra, and Melog’s heads when they bid their goodbyes eventually, albeit hesitantly. Catra catches Perfuma casting a bewildered look at Flora, who waves at them from Scorpia’s back as they take off. Adora must have seen the same; she turns to Catra, eyebrows raised in wonderment. “Was this Flora…?” 

Catra nods, equally astonished. “Maybe…?”

“We’ll have to ask them about it next chance we get. I don’t know at which age it’s normal to forge the connection to a runestone,” Adora hums. “Maybe Glimmer and Micah know more about it.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Catra nods and gets comfortable in the Captain’s chair. She hands Adora the trackerpad. “Do you want to see what we missed so far?”

Adora takes the trackerpad and does a quick scroll through their incoming messages. “It’s not much. Bow and Glimmer want to meet us in the library to go through what both Castaspella and Bow’s dads found on the coordinates of the planet. They want us to pick up a few things on the way back to Brightmoon.”

“Let’s go, then,” Catra puts in the coordinates for the library.

*

[Illustration of Bow, Glimmer, Catra, Melog and Adora sitting around a trackerpad reading "Half-Moon" in First One's language by Sasha]

As it turns out, Bow’s dads found quite a few things, as did Entrapta. Catra and Adora end up picking up a stack of tomes on their way back to Brightmoon. Entrapta, of course, has been tinkering with Darla while nobody was paying attention. She transfers the data without mentioning how she can access her data frame remotely. Catra, at this point, is almost afraid to ask.

They meet Bow and Glimmer in the castle library and set to work. Catra’s a little amazed at the amount of material they managed to compile on such short notice. They look through the material that is scattered between them and divide it up to work through individually.

Catra’s surrounded by notes on the floor, wading knee-deep through what Entrapta managed to pull from the Velvet Glove network. There are patterns and connections that feel oddly familiar; they could’ve been hers, they were hers, at least for a short while. The thought makes Catra’s fur stand on end and puts her on edge. Melog resorts to pacing restlessly, mane moving in the wild storm of anxious energy coming off her.

“I’m sorry, Melog,” Catra sighs. Melog’s mane bristles as she touches them; Catra retreats. She tries to take a breath and hold it for one, two, three, four-

Melog still paces when she breathes out. Catra feels sick to her stomach; they’re subject to her anxiety, and she can’t calm down enough to put Melog at ease. They nudge her softly, rubbing their muzzle along her shoulder. It’s their way of saying It’s okay, but that’s hard to believe sometimes.

A glass of water appears in front of her face, seemingly out of nowhere. Catra looks up to see Adora smile at her. “You look like you need a break,” she explains.

 “Maybe, but-” Catra looks back at her notes. Just like the files Entrapta sent over, they consist of scattered information that is connected in ways that make little sense. In fact, they have led her down multiple rabbit holes so far. Trying to make sense of it outside of Prime’s network is a headache-inducing venture.

“No buts allowed,” Adora decides.

Glimmer, who’s working across from Bow at one of the big tables in the middle of the library, leans back with a groan. “Yes, break time! Do you all feel as stuck as I do?”

Catra lets herself be pulled to her feet by Adora. She leans into the loose embrace, her ear against Adora’s chest. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply, listening to the familiar heartbeat. After five breaths, Adora speaks up, “Better?”

Catra raises her head to see a familiar spark of magic in her eyes. She nods silently, leaning in to bring their foreheads together. “Yeah,” she mumbles. “Thank you.”

It needs a bit of shuffling around, but eventually, the five of them sit in a circle on the floor. Melog is significantly calmer now, and so is Catra. They lick her face when she sits down next to them.

“We’ve been at it for hours,” Glimmer complains, rubbing her face. “Check-in? And please tell me we have something.”

“My tome turned out to be a book of fairy tales,” Bow tells them, gesturing towards his table with his glove-clad hand. Bow’s dads made them promise to treat the old tomes right, which means thin gloves and special book-stands. “The fairy tales are stories from all over the universe, I think. One of these talks about a planet at the coordinates we have from the message.”

“Fairy tales,” Catra snorts. “Seriously?”

“It’s all we have so far,” Bow shrugs. “And sometimes fairy tales tell us a lot about the time and the place they came from. The one I found about our planet is a story about a Queen that could turn into a panther, and somebody called Cloud Foot.”

“Next thing you’ll mention is a Sir Pawcelot,” Catra giggles, throwing a side-glance at Adora. It takes her a moment to recognize the hero of the stories they made up whispering in the night. She lights up, catching a gigglesnort with her hand on her mouth. Melog mrrps in delight at the mental image Catra provides them with.

Glimmer and Bow share a look and a smile.

“Let’s suppose these stories contain a bit of truth, it might tell us a little bit about who we are meeting there,” Glimmer brings them back on track. “Could it be shapeshifters? Since this Queen person turns into a panther?”

A planet full of Double Troubles doesn’t sound too appealing; Catra huffs under her breath, “I hope not.”

Bow hums. “From what it sounds like, they are only able to turn into a panther, and in the story that’s something only the Queen can do, with some kind of,” he stops to double-check the word with the translation software Entrapta developed with Adora’s help. “I think this could either be ‘crone’ or ‘crown’ ... Adora, what do you think?”

Adora leans over the trackerpad, squinting. “I think it’s supposed to be ‘crown’. ‘Crone’ would use a different sign for the vowel,” she explains before looking up. “Maybe it’s something that works like She-Ra’s sword used to?”

“I think I saw something like that in Prime’s spoils catalogue,” Catra perks up. She starts sifting through her notes. It takes her a few minutes to find the right reference. She follows one of the paths in the neuronal network of information to find the right entry on her trackerpad. “Here it is! ‘Royal Crown of Half-Moon, magical properties, function unknown’.”

Melog, who has been lounging against her, perks up. They sit up to nudge Catra’s shoulder. Purrs, is what they push to the back of Catra’s mind. She frowns. “What do you mean?”

They nuzzle the distorted image of the artifact on the trackerpad, insisting on purrs.

“I don’t get it, sorry” Catra sighs, patting their head. “I promise we will go to sleep in a bit. Okay?”

Melog huffs, as if they were annoyed, and slumps down sulking. Catra shakes her head and shrugs at Adora’s questioning glance.

Glimmer takes the trackerpad to examine the file Catra pulled up further. She squints. “I don’t think I saw something like this in Prime’s creepy trophy room,” she muses before looking up and to Catra. “Have you?”

“No,” Catra shakes her head.

“It looks so familiar, but I have no idea where we could’ve seen it,” Glimmer mumbles, as if to herself.

“However, we have these First One’s fairy tales, and the catalogue,” Bow concludes. “That means both the First Ones and Prime at least tried to take over the planet.”

“Half-Moon gives us something new to work with, though. And we’ll have plenty of time in space to work out how we approach this mission,” Adora argues, already ready to defend her poor tactical choices. “If it’s anything like on Etheria, we might be able to help them.”

Please, don’t be anything like Etheria, Catra silently pleads and feels her fur bristle involuntarily. She sees Adora turning toward the platform in the innards of Mystacor, expression set into a determined frown. She sees Adora turn her back at her, to deliver the failsafe, ready to die. She sees-

“Just,” Glimmer hesitates, voicing Catra’s concern. “Please be careful? We don’t know what’s out there, and what the planet’s like, after all.”

Catra and Adora speak at the same time. “Wait, what are you-?” - “Are you not coming-?” They break off and look at each other in surprise. Catra feels a smile tug at the corners of her mouth, smoothing down the fur on her arms.

Bow and Glimmer share one of their patented we’re having a conversation over eye contact looks. They look hesitant, and somehow excited; Catra can’t pinpoint the emotion. She feels the uneasy inkling of insecurity tickle her spine; it's weird not knowing what everyone feels like all the time. Bow and Glimmer and even Adora usually wear their hearts on their sleeves; it’s one of the few reliable things that never changed even when the war ended and they started finding out what peace can mean.

 “There … is something we want to tell you,” Bow explains, giving Glimmer an encouraging nod. Glimmer takes a breath, and looks both terrified and giddy. “I’m pregnant,” she says, breathing out. She looks back to Bow, who has stars in his eyes, before turning back to Catra and Adora with a beaming smile. “You’re going to be aunts!”

“We’re,” Adora blinks, dumbfounded. “We’re gonna be aunts?”

Catra, for one second, wonders if reproduction was just revealed to her, but that would be dumb - and Adora might be many things, but definitely not dumb. She feels the ever-present flicker in her chest, her very own constant internally burning I want a little one, and laughs.