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“Uh- Catra? You might want to see this-”
Catra had just finished skewering a stupid, way too big insect on a cactus spine when she heard Scorpia calling for her, letting out an internal groan of annoyance.
“Is it the tech we need?” She asked, leaning over. Scorpia was standing a little further down the path, nervously staring over a cliff’s edge. Having told the scorpion more than once to just focus on finding the tech they had been sent to the Crimson Waste for, she just had to hope it was something actual, and not just Scorpia getting distracted again.
“Uh- No. Something else.”
Trying not to seem exasperated, Catra got to her feet and strode over to Scorpia’s side.
“What are you even-”
There was a figure lying at the base of the cliff, the bright color immediately giving them away. They were sprawled out, blonde hair spilled over onto the sandy ground around them, a dusty halo as the sun glinted off of it.
Catra ran her tongue along her teeth, realizing that this was far more interesting than whatever unspecified piece of technology they had been looking for. “Well. That makes it interesting. I should’ve guessed Adora would follow us here… probably after the same thing that we are.”
“So- we should just go, then? She’s clearly not doing great out here, so that gives us a headstart! That’s good, isn’t it?” Scorpia pointed out.
“No way we’re leaving her here,” Catra growled, staring down at the figure and already taking another step toward the cliff.
“I thought we were scared of Adora! I thought we hated her!”
“That’s only when she’s awake,” Catra pointed out. She folded her arms, risking a glance over at Scorpia. “Go look for any kind of shelter we can stay in and I’ll catch up with you.”
Scorpia bit her lip. “I- I mean, are you sure? We might get separated, right?”
Anger burned beneath Catra’s skin and she whipped her head over to glare directly at Scorpia, who tensed. “Before we left, you promised you would listen to whatever I said, didn’t you?! And I said, ‘yeah, you better, or I’m slashing you to pieces and leaving you to the butcher birds.’ Isn’t that right?”
Scorpia swallowed nervously, hugging her tail to her chest. “Uhm- right! Right you are there, Captain. I will, uh… go do that. Look for shelter.” She hurried off down the path and away from Catra, who waited until she was out of sight before letting the panic sink in.
So many times she had wanted to tear Adora to shreds, and yet to see her here… Catra couldn’t make herself stop. She climbed down the side of the cliff, finding any footholds she could, before sliding down onto the sandy area where Adora was lying.
She was curled into herself slightly, hair undone and blood matting the blonde strands that had fallen astray. Bruises had bloomed across her arm and her leg was twisted awkwardly beneath her, clearly having fallen from the cliff.
Catra’s gut twisted with fear and she wanted to punch herself. She was supposed to be grateful. Handed right to her, the perfect opportunity to kill the person who had torn her life apart, ruined everything she knew and loved, and forced her into this constant cycle of frustration and hunts for self-worth.
The creature lying in front of her had done so much harm, lying right where she belonged- in the center of everything dying and poisonous.
And yet.
As Catra hurried closer, she found herself dropping to her knees, reaching a hand to fall against the base of Adora’s neck, her own heart pounding as she searched for a pulse.
And somehow, to find that this traitor, this double-crossing, arrogant rebel was still alive brought more relief to Catra’s heart than she thought possible. Hanging her head for a moment, she pulled the unconscious Adora into her arms and got to her feet.
If they were enemies, why did Catra feel like she just couldn’t let go? She grit her teeth, eyes burning with unshed tears of frustration. Even when she wasn’t even awake, Adora was so cruel to her.
Catra found a spot of shade, setting Adora down and propping her up against the rock far too gently for someone she hated. She hated Adora, and the fact that she had to remind herself meant she was weak.
What also was weak was the way she pulled off her shawl and draped it over Adora’s shoulders to protect her from the sunburns that had already formed across the exposed parts of her skin.
She was so stupid to come here, a literal desert, without proper clothing.
And yet Catra was infinitely more stupid for even being here.
She tried not to think about what she was doing, to brush away the invisible gazes of Hordak and Lonnie and everyone else who was yelling at her to just kill the rebel in front of her. Catra thought back to every time she had taken advantage of the fact that Adora refused to kill her. Every split second of hesitation before a knife met Catra’s throat… She remembered each one, and yet if Adora had gotten to be in Catra’s position, she would have known what a hypocrite she was. Not only was Catra hesitating to kill Adora, no, she was saving her damn life.
She brushed away the sand sticking to Adora’s face, wondering the last time she had gotten this close to her. And had it been with a knife to one of their throats?
There were cuts and bruises across Adora’s skin, no doubt from the rocks at the base of the cliff. Catra pulled away the red blazer Adora still, for whatever reason, insisted upon wearing, and found a snake bite torn into her shoulder. Also not good.
She spent what felt like hours meticulously cleaning it, finding rocks embedded into it as well as a trickle of blood drying across Adora’s shoulder. It was eerie, to be sitting there in the shade and being so gentle, so cautious as if she feared she would hurt Adora if her hand slipped. Her entire mission was to hurt Adora.
As her thoughts wrote themselves off the page in confused, frustrated scribbles that carried none of the gentleness her hands moved with as she reached for the bandages and began to bandage the bite across the rebel’s shoulder.
Then Adora’s eyes fluttered open.
Catra could practically read her thought process, confusion and drowsiness clearing as she searched for where she was, a homing gaze finally locking onto Catra. A moment to process it, then she lurched forward, immediately going for her knife.
Shrieking, Catra dropped the bandages she was holding and leaped back, all the building regret reaching a peak before she realized that Adora probably couldn’t hurt her. It was only proven as Adora crumpled back into herself, hissing with pain and breathing harshly.
After what felt like far too long of a silence, Adora trying to catch her breath and fight the pain, no doubt from the array of injuries she had suffered, the rebel slowly looked up.
“What did you do to me?” she hissed.
Catra couldn’t reply, taking another step back. Of course she would get blamed for some else’s mistakes and decisions. ...She was just trying to help. She watched as Adora’s gaze flitted down to the bandages, the blazer folded beside her, the cleaned and wrapped injuries around her ankle and forearm, and then back to Catra.
She narrowed her eyes. “What game are you trying to play, Catra?” Her tone remained skeptical, but confusion had seeped in, layering her voice with something less aggressive.
“The one where you fall off a damn cliff and end up passed out in the middle of the desert,” Catra replied, folding her arms defensively. “It was an easier game when you were unconscious.”
Adora frowned, still apparently dizzy from waking up as she pressed her eyes shut. She glanced down at the treated injuries again, realization filling her expression. Catra should’ve known better than to assume she wouldn’t bring it up. “Wait- you were trying to help ? Why?”
Catra grit her teeth. This was exactly what she didn’t want to happen. She had just wanted Adora to stay out the whole time, then call all of this some mystery savior situation. Maybe then she wouldn’t try her luck any further and go home.
“You’re here for the same tech we are.”
Adora narrowed her eyes. “We might be. Why’d you help me?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Catra snapped. “Get out of this stupid wasteland before you almost die again, and maybe you’ll survive to find out someday.”
“You’re not as good at avoiding questions as I remember you being,” Adora smirked, tugging her blazer back over her shoulders.
Catra grit her teeth. “Just go home . Please. You have a home now, don’t you? You have friends and people who you love and care about enough that they can replace me. You’re doing so well, aren’t you, with your fellow princesses and stupid sword, so just go back to Bright Moon and leave all of this alone. I won’t tell anyone that you messed up and nearly got yourself killed, and the next time we see each other we can be trying to kill each other again.”
Disappointment swirled in Adora’s eyes and Catra wanted to punch something. This was exactly why she wanted Adora gone. Every moment she stayed was another moment of seeing Adora’s expression fill with that same expression pleading for Catra to stay, the disgustingly cruel, sad, shock in whatever the cat had said.
Catra ran her hands down her face, letting out a sharp breath of frustration. She kept her hands over her eyes, keeping her from having to look at the rebel any longer.
“You sound like you don’t really want me to go.”
Catra swore under her breath. Covering her eyes wasn’t working, for now Adora’s soft voice had once again infiltrated her pounding skull, trying again to rip her apart from the inside. “Don’t fucking pity me. You ruined this, you took what we had away! You can’t just turn around and pretend I’m the one who needs to be forgiven! I told you, just leave . Go back to where you belong.”
“Where I belong is with you, Catra.”
Catra knew what she meant. She knew exactly what Adora meant, for the feeling of belonging is what she had been fighting this whole damn time. There was something so peaceful, so right , of caring about Adora, and yet every logical bone in her body was screaming for her to stop. To stab Adora right there. To mar the perfect, soft skin, and gentle features that haunted every moment Catra thought about the rebel in the wrong way.
“Don’t say that,” Catra hissed back, barely managing a sound above a whisper. “Just don’t.”
“I’m telling the truth, Catra. Where we both belong is together, and not fighting this ridiculous war. The Horde may have brought us together, but we’d never be able to be truly happy there. It was a lie. Please, there’s a way to fix this, where we can be happy, but you just won’t listen!”
Catra shook her head frustratedly, anger burning in her chest. “Shut up! Just- shut up. You tell me this every damn time we see each other again-” and every time I want to believe you more and more. “And I’m tired of it!”
“Then why did you help me? ” Adora asked again, sitting up straighter.
Catra pressed her lips together, forcing herself to go silent. Every word that spilled from her lips was being used against her, and she was already beginning to crumble. Catra didn’t crumble.
So instead, she turned to leave.
“Wait-” Adora pressed a hand to the ground, trying to get up, but Catra turned on her heel, hackles raised.
“Stop, Adora. Like hell you’re following me. I have orders, and an unwritten part of them is to not let you interfere. Just- just pretend I wasn’t here, okay? Pretend you just survived by coincidence and go… find your friends again. You don’t say you met me, and they don’t ask why you didn’t kill me. I go back to Scorpia and say I left you to die, because you weren’t worth the effort of killing you myself. Got it?”
She watched, breaths labored, as Adora slowly shrank back against the cliff wall, expression slowly sinking. Catra let out a sharp breath, blinking hard to fight back the tears in her eyes. Maybe if Adora asked, she could have called it sand in her eye, but of course, Adora didn’t have to ask. She already knew.
Catra turned around, forcing herself into long strides as she started to walk away.
“Catra?”
Despite how much Catra’s mind was screaming at her to just leave before Adora could say anything that would hurt her again, her legs froze up and she stopped, staring at the ground. She heard Adora sigh softly.
“I don’t like fighting you either.”
Catra shook her head, a minute movement that might have pretended the frustration, the anger with herself and everything that had put her in this position was a fly she could brush away with a toss of her head.
“Why-” she managed to reply, throat closing up. “Why does it have to hurt so much? Why do I have everything I could ever want but- but I’m still not happy?” She glanced over her shoulder at the rebel, tears stinging in her eyes. “You’re a monster like that, Adora, making me choose…”
God, she hated being this weak. Everything Adora said- as well as every moment that she didn’t speak- made Catra want to tear herself open, every word tugging more tears from her eyes. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.
“You would’ve had to choose no matter what, and you’ll have to choose again,” Adora continued. “And hopefully when that time comes, it’ll be easier.”
Catra watched over her shoulder as Adora slowly got to her feet. She slowly turned to face the rebel, narrowed darting for her next move. She had disarmed Adora and could outwit her in combat. Not to mention Adora was still swaying slightly on her feet, breaths unsteady from dehydration and still slightly pale. Whatever she was planning, it wouldn’t work.
Catra readied herself to fight, nails unsheathed as the rebel grew closer. She watched, searching for the attack, when Adora just wrapped her arms around her.
It wasn’t an attack at all. It was gentle, protective with the warmth of an apology that Catra didn’t deserve.
So she didn’t fight it. She refused to accept it for a moment, standing stiffly as the arms wrapped around her, but she couldn’t make it last long. She slowly lifted her arms to return it, pulling Adora closer to her and letting her chin rest on the rebel’s shoulder.
She wished it was like this again. Where the biggest consequence to staying there forever in Adora’s arms was being late to training.
Catra left Adora there afterward. She had to catch up with Scorpia and continue the search, but the encounter buried itself in the corner of her mind, curling there as if it were a flower Catra was waiting to see bloom.
For now, all it was was a pair of phantom arms around her and a slight tremor in her hands she couldn’t get rid of.
But maybe, like Adora was promising, this could fix itself somehow. Maybe Catra would finally break down enough to give in to every underserved comforting word, every desperate promise, every time Adora’s eyes would soften as a careful plea for Catra to come home. And maybe then it would be like that again.