Archive of Our Own

“You can hide behind She-Ra all you want, but no matter how many people you save, nothing will take back the fact that you abandoned the one person you swore to protect,” Catra sneered.

“I swore to protect everyone!” Adora retorted instantly.

“Yeah, well, who was the first?” Catra chanced a menacing step forward, ending up only inches from Adora’s face.

Within the past hour, the two soldiers had derailed from civil discourse to a full-blown argument.
And, somehow, Catra had assumed a rather defensive position at the mention of her fateful decision at Thaymor. The Horde was always a touchy subject for the magicat, but whenever she and Adora talked extensively about their time apart, it always ended the same way: Catra in a tail-spin spiral and Adora trying to de-escalate in a way that didn’t bruise her ego.

It was difficult for Adora to imagine Catra’s position and her consequential actions. They were two different people, after all. Adora had a destiny, no matter which side she represented, and everyone treated her as a worthy force for their own gain. Catra, on the other hand, lacked security that she had a purpose at all, so she fought for one. Adora was lost in a forest while Catra was planting seeds.

“Catra, I came back for you,” Adora pleaded in a last attempt to calm down her girlfriend.

“Yeah, that was real stupid of you,” Catra spat, glaring daggers into the eyes of the girl she would sacrifice her life to protect.

Catra never knew why she acted so brash when it came to discussing old habits. Treading on her old life always seemed to throw her into the deep end, and she never liked water. She knew every decision she made in that dark period was nothing if not the product of a prolonged lack of awareness and foresight, but admitting she was wrong out loud… Admitting she was weak and operating under the same habits of her childhood abuser -- the same abuser that Adora watched torture her from the time they were children. She couldn’t handle the reality. Maybe it was shame, maybe regret, but Catra only knew one way to cope with her insecurities: violent deflection.

“You don’t mean that,” Adora’s voice cracked, her usually stable demeanor chipped by the other girl’s words.

It was a quick turnaround. Catra’s sensitive ears picked up the skipped beat of her heart, the unsteadiness of her voice, the shuffle of clothes as she leaned the tiniest bit away from Catra. Her eyes, tuned to every tell of Adora’s inner feelings, watched as she stepped back, zeroed in on the color of her eyes becoming hard to read with a sheen of fresh tears, and witnessed her entire face fall in defeat of Catra’s unexpected rebuttal.

Run.

And she did. Any other person wouldn’t have noticed, but Adora, the same girl who wiped up Catra’s tears from the time she still allowed herself to cry, watched the weight of her words reach her face -- constricted pupils, raised fur, flat ears. And then, Catra ran.

She ran, throwing open their bedroom door in Bright Moon, and sprinting on all fours as far away from their argument as Catra could.

Usually, Adora would spring into action at this point and chase after her partner, but something held her still. Maybe she was the problem. Maybe she was suffocating Catra. Maybe she shouldn’t play the hero all the damn time. Maybe she-

A stray tear slipped down Adora’s cheek, pulling her out of her head. She sniffled while wiping the wetness from her eyes, letting out a ragged sigh. She moved to close their bedroom door with a gentle, but apprehensive, click. Her hand stilled on the door as she listened for the quiet chirping of the night that fluttered through the bedroom’s balcony.

It wasn’t always this hard. Believe it or not, Catra and Adora had worked out most of their issues during the time it took them to get back from space. It was quiet. Nowhere to run. It was quite literally the perfect place for confrontation. Besides, after Prime’s defeat, Catra turned into a sort of house cat. Most of the warriors’ time together consisted of Catra sprawled across Adora’s chest, soaking up the five o’clock sun that streamed through their balcony in calm silence. Sure, Catra’s stark change of behavior could be attributed to her numerous therapy sessions with Perfuma, but her progress was still hers.

However, naturally, their three years apart made for a lot of material to catch up on, so even six months after the defeat of Prime, they still occasionally stumbled across sensitive topics. The offensive comment rang around Adora’s head. Catra didn’t mean it; she was just upset. Harsh words seemed to sting more because of their dwindling amount of conflicts. Call it vulnerability, but Adora preferred to think of it as the increasing number of loving words from Catra’s mouth just made the sinister stick out more.

Adora decided to give her girlfriend some space; let Catra come to her. With her decision, she made her way to their bathroom to take a cold shower.

-

Catra’s lungs felt like they were going to burst from the sheer pressure of her heart hammering in her chest. She finally stopped running when her throat started closing, only to find herself at the edge of the Whispering Woods.

Catra’s head, still shrouded with a light fog, decided that her only direction was up. And so, she scaled the nearest tree, making her way to the tallest branch in the Whispering Woods that still had a clear view of the Bright Moon kingdom.

By the time she made it up the tree, the cold air hitting the back of her throat felt like the stab of a knife at each and every inhale.

She sat on the tree with nothing but the light of the entire galaxy above her and the sound of trees swaying in the gentle wind. She felt like a mistake in that moment, like everything’s stillness and serenity were disrupted by her labored breathing. As her heartbeat declined, the fog in her head lifted, and she was subsequently hit with the reality of the past thirty or so minutes.

It was unfair, her circumstance. How come she worked so hard to even be able to look at herself in the mirror -- nonetheless deserve Adora’s unconditional, life-saving love -- and still lose control like that same person who pulled that lever? She couldn’t believe she had done it again, but old habits die hard. Sure, the space-time continuum wasn’t at stake right now, but it might as well have been. She hurt Adora. The space-time continuum didn’t mean shit if Adora was unhappy. Put that on a t-shirt; Catra would buy twenty.

Catra looked up at the stars above her. She was still not used to seeing them all the time. It was different when she was in space where they seemed to watch her from every window, silently waiting for her to commit another atrocity. But, to be fair, everything was different in space. Her time there was like living the life of another person. Space Catra, the girl who saved Glimmer because she wanted to; the girl who Adora came back for because Adora wanted to. It was like one big dream.

One big dream.

And then, she woke up.

She woke up and had to return to Etheria -- the same planet she had previously almost destroyed. Seeing the stars for the first time from Etheria after the war was surreal. At first, it only served as a reminder of what had happened on Prime’s ship, but it slowly evolved. The stars in the sky reminded Catra that, no matter where she was, time moved forward. With or without her.

After all this time, she was still here.

Hell, time was moving without her right now. Somewhere in Bright Moon, Adora was probably worrying about Catra. She was likely treading over their fight and kicking herself over her failure to diffuse the situation. Her Adora.

Catra knew she wasn’t being fair to her girlfriend. Still, the thought of taking that walk of shame all the way back up the steps of the castle, accompanied only by the organic whispers of the night and the constant nagging reminder of her actions buzzing against every corner of her mind just to apologize to Adora again…

The thought kept Catra rooted to her spot on the high branch. She couldn’t count the number of times she had been in this situation on two hands; she never learned. She knew she was in the wrong. She knew. Sometimes she wished she still wore the veil of ignorance that had blinded her for those three years she spent running the Horde. At least then she didn't have to apologize every single time she acted under impulse… so basically every single time she was herself.

Being a good person sucked ass.

Catra sniffled, suddenly aware of the cold that surrounded her. Yes, she had fur, and she tended to run warm, but she had become used to Adora’s additional body heat at night… sue her. Not to mention the polluted climate of the Fright Zone mixed with the constant running machinery made an oven of the barracks at times, so it’s not like she ever gained a high tolerance to begin with. The only other time Catra had experienced such a mundane yet fully encapsulating chill was her trip with Entrapta and Scorpia for that piece of First One’s tech and… space.

The first thing she had noticed about Prime’s ship was how vacantly cold all the hallways were. It wasn’t frigid or anything, just cold enough to discern and seek a warmer place… which didn’t exist. It was uncomfortable, but that was Prime’s style: discomfort.

Catra inhaled a rather unsavory breath through her nose. The coolness stung her nostrils as if the air were on a one-way road straight to her brain. It was for a selfish reason, wanting to escape the cold, but Catra started to descend from the tree.

Her pace? Slow. Every bone in her body screamed to turn around and keep running, but she begrudgingly kept walking forward. A mixture of guilt and shame trickled through her bloodstream, replacing every ounce of warmth with cold despair. Of course her body was turning against her -- it's like she was allergic to acting in the self-interest of others. How fitting.

It’s funny, Catra’s sense of fight or flight. She was trained as a soldier ready for combat at any moment, but the second her battle dealt with mushy confrontation of her character, she was gone. There was something to say about her emotional maturity, though. Old Catra would have blown a few things up by this point, but that wasn’t her anymore. Okay, maybe that was a low bar, but it had to count for something.

Catra’s stomach was in knots, her brain on fire, shoulders tense. She was suddenly grateful she had skipped dinner for her argument with Adora because, if not, it wouldn’t have stayed in her stomach. After realizing how much her knees were shaking as she stepped, Catra stopped walking and sat on the steps of the Bright Moon castle. A guard took notice and approached to escort her further, but she waved them off with an apologetic smile. She didn’t deserve the help of others right now. Pity parties are better celebrated without guests.

Catra reworked her and Adora’s argument in her head a bit longer. She had nothing to say yet besides sorry, but she didn’t exactly remember what she was sorry for. At that moment, the haze of frustration truly lifted from Catra’s head.

She didn’t remember.

Catra raked her hands through her hair - it was longer now. The short hair was easier to deal with than she first anticipated, but she still liked the comfort of longer hair. Right now, it sat a little past her shoulders. Glimmer helped her sort through different products, and her hair was the healthiest it had ever been.

Regardless, no matter how much she scrubbed her healthy scalp, her memory of their argument was gone. She closed her eyes, furrowed her brows, covered her ears. She tried to drown out all her other senses, but to no avail. Catra pinched the bridge of her nose to discover tears. She had started crying out of frustration; how embarrassing. She had to pull herself together.

Catra let a few more tears fall before straightening her back and smoothing out her hair. She held her tail, smoothing out the fur there as well. She was smart; she could do this, she could remember. Or at least that’s what she mumbled to herself while preparing to think through the last 12 hours of her life.

Her day started like usual: waking up, of course. She and Adora spent a little longer than socially acceptable cuddling in bed. They saved the world. They can do whatever they want. Shut up.

Eventually, Adora left to go speak with Glimmer about who knows what. Catra had selective hearing whenever it came to hoity-toity royal junk. She took the time alone to get ready for the day and complete a quick workout in the BrightMoon gym.

The day slowed down after lunch. Catra was mainly just left to her own devices. She sharpened her nails, read a few chapters of a book, took a nap - standard stuff. The day had been overcast, and Bright Moon tended to run a little cold, so Catra did most of her activities in bed.

It was Adora storming into their bedroom around sunset that woke her up from her second nap of the day. She was clearly upset as she immediately began ranting to a half-awake Catra about Glimmer’s hesitation to send a team for a mission in space. Catra didn’t remember all the details. But, again, she wasn’t even fully conscious.

Here, Catra’s memories began to fog. Somehow the conversation derailed into an argument of whether it was Adora’s responsibility as She-Ra to intervene in other planets’ internal affairs, but Catra didn’t care about that. She just wanted Adora to calm down and stay in Bright Moon for a bit longer. Besides, the war had only just ended a few months ago. Etheria was still recovering, and quite frankly, so was Catra.

But Adora couldn’t calm down to save her life, so, of course, she had been giddy to begin another space exploration days after the end of the war. She must’ve been at her wits’ end after months of slow reconstruction on Etheria.

Catra decided she had enough information for a conversation. Even if it wasn’t the argument itself, she thought she had pinpointed the general cause.

With that, Catra rose from her spot on the cold steps and walked inside. The temperature difference hit her instantaneously. Her fur smoothed down, and her shoulders relaxed. She still shook slightly from the anxiety of her situation, but at least she was warm.

It was late. Glimmer must have been asleep because the castle staff were finishing cleaning up for the night. The silence bothered Catra, but she decided she deserved it for her actions. It was her usual punishment, anyway. She always thought the only thing worse than being yelled at was the silence that followed. Or, maybe, it was just being alone with herself that seemed insufferable.

The walk to her and Adora’s bedroom felt longer than normal. Maybe it was due to Catra counting every beat of her heart or the fact that she decided to greet every single castle worker she came across. Of course she wasn’t trying to further stall her inevitable talk with Adora. That would be ridiculous. Whatever the case, Catra eventually ended up in front of their bedroom door with no other potential distractions.

-

Adora had always taken short, cold showers; Horde habit. Her movements outside of the shower, however, were slow. She took extra time to brush her hair. Extra time to brush her teeth. Adora made sure every single step of her bedtime routine was perfect. It had to be perfect, or else she was wasting her time. She pushed all thoughts about Catra out of her head, focusing all her energy on her seemingly monotonous duties.

After completing her nightly tasks, Adora aimlessly paced around the room. She wasn’t so much thinking about something as she was nothing at that point. She had other things to think about than Catra’s whereabouts. She was She-Ra – of course she had tons of other way more important things to do rather than think about her poor girlfriend who is all alone somewhere who she was supposed to be mad at but-

A searing charley horse instantly brought Adora to her knees. The pain was insufferable, to say the least. It felt as if her leg muscles were trying to crawl out of her skin. Yet, even with this unfortunate turn of events, Adora silently thanked the universe for giving her something else to think about, even if it was temporary.

After the pain subsided, Adora limped over to her desk, favoring a comfy cushion over the hard tile of the bedroom. Her eyes wandered over the items littered on her desk: pens, figurines, a lamp, a journal.

Her journal. She hadn’t written in a while - she tended to only write when she felt intense emotion which usually only made her feel worse. She knew writing about Catra would feel weird – like a betrayal almost – but maybe it would do some good to allow herself to think about their argument instead of distracting herself.

Her handwriting was sloppy: a mix of Etherian and First One’s writing littered her yellow notebook. Perfuma had insisted the notebook either be yellow or pink because they are ‘happy colors.’ Whatever that meant. Naturally, Catra made a fuss over receiving the pink notebook, but now Catra had a vast collection of pink notebooks full of memories.

Adora was aware of Catra’s memory issues. To be honest, it was hard to ignore for the first month after the war ended. Every once in a while, Catra would suddenly remember a repressed memory and disappear for days on end while Adora was left without explanation. With some friendly advice from Perfuma, Catra had stopped disappearing and instead wrote down her feelings about the memory in a notebook. Hence, the growing number on their bedroom shelf.

Catra didn’t disappear often anymore. It’s less of a risk now, of course, with the citizens of Etheria finally warming up to her after her war crimes, but she had less of a reason to run. Proper support has that effect on people. Her daily Etherian death-threat count was at an all-time low. Well, excluding sarcastic comments from herself, but they were working on Catra’s positive affirmations.

Thirty minutes had passed. Adora stared down at her writing - all of it about her girlfriend. She tried writing about herself, but she seemed to veer off track, favoring recalling a time when Catra broke into the Fright Zone kitchen to steal her ration bars when she was sick. Adora liked to write about the good things. Besides, what good is it to carry around a notebook full of dead weight?

As Adora wrapped up another borderline incomprehensible paragraph, she heard the bedroom creek open the slightest amount.

-

“I’m sorry.”

The first thing out of Catra’s mouth was an apology. She had gotten good at apologizing recently; it’s one of those traits that get picked up when one switches sides after a war.

“I know,” Adora answered with a disappointed sigh.

Ouch. She deserved that, but damn, did that hurt Catra’s pride a little bit more than she’d like to admit.

Catra slowly made her way to the back of Adora’s chair. She hovered for a moment, watching Adora scribble a few closing words into her journal. Catra couldn’t read Adora’s writing, but she could always infer the tone by the discrepancies in her lettering. When she wrote for fun, the space between her words was more prominent than when she wrote out of stress. Catra didn’t even have to look at her writing to know how Adora was feeling.

Guilt pricked at Catra’s sides, but she bit back the urge to apologize again. Instead, she waited for Adora to initiate conversation. She didn’t need to talk her way into a corner with her ever-decreasing memory of their initial fight.

“Where did you go?” Adora asked after setting her pen down. The pages of her journal crackled as Adora closed the small notebook. Unlike Catra, who preferred to fill her pages with nothing but words, Adora stuck memorabilia when she felt uninspired, resulting in a much heftier book.

Catra waited for Adora to meet her eye, but she stayed with her back to the brunette. She moved to hold her head in her hands like an overly stressed parent after hearing their kid got expelled. To Catra, this was the worst-case scenario. God, way to kick someone while they’re down.

Catra cleared her throat – which felt like if pop rocks had a knife flavor from her impromptu relay race against her subconscious. A cup of water would do wonders, but that wasn’t her priority at the moment.

“The Whispering Woods… I just sat on a tree branch.”

“In the cold?” Adora finally turned her head to peer at Catra over her shoulder.

Catra looked like a sick puppy: her hair stuck up in all directions from running, her suit had torn a bit from scrambling up the nearest tree, her demeanor was shot from that look Adora was giving her.

“I- have fur, Adora.” Catra tried to deadpan, but guilt forced its way into her inflection.

“Not enough!” Adora shot up from her chair, getting in Catra’s face.

Catra immediately shrunk into herself, her tail swinging with unease. After a moment of eye contact, Adora yanked Catra into a rough embrace, sniffling into her shoulder.

“Don’t do that anymore,” Adora mumbled while strengthening her grip around Catra’s waist.

Catra had scary good reflexes, almost as if she were always one step ahead of her attacker, but Adora’s hug made her freeze for a moment. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Catra returned her hug, pulling Adora closer by wrapping her arms around her neck. She could feel Adora coming apart by her uneven heartbeat and labored breathing. She wished she could take it all away. Who was she to do this to her? Who was Catra to cause the savior of the universe to sob in her arms at her wrongdoings?

Adora pulled back first, keeping her hands firmly locked on Catra’s waist as if she may fly away at any given moment. Catra noticed her hesitance to let go, so she kept her arms around Adora’s neck, allowing one of her hands to fall to cup the corner of Adora’s jaw; a silent promise that she wasn’t a flight risk.

“I love you,” Adora stated with that intense look in her eye. Like Catra was just another one of her field missions.

“I love you, too,” Catra replied instantly, tucking a stray hair out of Adora’s face and behind her ear.

“Can we talk about it?” Adora asked. Her intensity was soon replaced by a solemn look of appreciation. Catra could see the light blush dusting her cheeks. It was cute. She always took pride in the effect she had on the other woman. But that was neither here nor there.

Catra paused following her girlfriend’s request, gulping down a knot in her throat (which still felt like a million needles - she needed water soon.) She broke eye contact with Adora, quickly finding the open balcony door calling her name.

No.

Catra willed her line of sight back to Adora. Beautiful, compassionate, selfless Adora. She dropped her hand from Adora’s jaw to her lower bicep. She was so real. Just touching her eased Catra’s nerves.

Catra nodded. Slowly at first, but quickly gaining intensity when Adora pulled her ever so slightly closer.

“Yeah. Of course we can, dummy.” Adora smiled at the nickname. Their nickname.

“But can I shower first? And-” Catra’s voice finally gave out, which she tried to remedy by clearing her throat. Spoiler alert: it didn’t work.

Adora basically blew a fuse at her own failure to closer inspect Catra’s condition. It didn’t take long for Catra to end up sitting on their bed in a fluffy towel with a hot cup of lavender tea.

-

The teacup burnt Catra’s hands. It was at the point where Catra had to pinch the handle and position her other fingers on the rim of the bottom of the cup to prevent feeling the piping hot ceramic. She wanted to drink the tea to make Adora feel better, but third-degree burns down her esophagus didn’t seem very appealing, especially when her throat was already sore.

Adora had started anxiously pacing when she had nothing else to provide. She meant well, but her heart was too damn big. In all honesty, her girlfriend’s treatment only made Catra feel worse for putting them in this situation. She wished she had an undo button. Maybe then the shame tugging at the back of her ears would leave her alone.

Finally, Catra set the sweltering teacup on the ground. The clink of the china against the tile stopped Adora’s pacing as her eyes shot over to Catra. She might as well have fired a gun with the expression plastered on Adora’s face.

“The tea is too hot…” Catra mumbled with a small smile. Adora immediately walked over and crouched in front of Catra, fingers ghosting over the hot cup.

“I can get some ice or put it in the fridge-”

“Adora, stop being weird.” Catra’s hands found Adora’s and pulled them into her lap. The two locked eyes, waiting for the other to break the ice. Adora cracked first, her eyes dropping down to their intertwined fingers.

“Are we okay?” she whispered, watery eyes flicking up to meet heterochromatic. Catra quickly dropped Adora’s hands in favor of holding her face, ready to catch any rogue tears.

“Shit, yes, Adora, we’re okay,” Catra cooed,” we’re okay, Adora, I promise.” Like clockwork, a tear slipped down Adora’s face when she blinked. Catra wiped it away as soon as it fell, unable to let Adora think for a second more that their relationship stood on questionable grounds.

“Adora, look at me,” Catra tilted Adora’s jaw upwards to meet her own glossy eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said.” It was a shot in the dark on Catra’s end – she still didn’t entirely remember their argument, just the feeling of shame and guilt that ensued directly after. Adora sniffled, resting her hands on top of the feline’s thighs and leaning into her touch.

A reaction like this couldn’t have arisen from a diplomatic debate. She was so screwed. She was so fucking screwed.

“Do you have an issue with She-Ra?” Adora asked after taking a moment to compose herself.

The question caught Catra off-guard. She-Ra? What did She-Ra have to do with any of this? Her confusion must have shown on her face because Adora backed away from Catra’s hands. Definitely not a diplomatic debate.

“You don’t remember what you said, do you?” Adora asked, eyes searching for the answer she knew she would receive. Catra suddenly became very interested in her discarded teacup. She regarded the stillness of the liquid. Even in its scorching state, it remained still. Maybe if she were born as a tea leaf, she wouldn’t have so many worries. Or, alternatively, perhaps she could take a lesson or two from this teacup. Like, for example, teacups are really good at shutting the fuck up.

“Catra?” Adora pried. Catra started pushing on her temples – as if the pressure would knock some neurons into place, but to no avail. She didn’t remember. Of course she didn’t remember.

“I’m sorry,” Catra mumbled, barely audible. Shameful tears pushed through Catra’s eyes and down her face.

Her head was so painfully empty. It’s not like she didn’t have any thoughts, she did, but none of them were right. She felt like a farmer who had thrown a handful of random seeds into the dirt, and once harvesting season came around, she wanted a squash. Of all the random seeds she planted, she was absolutely positive a squash seed was among them, but she just couldn’t find the damn squash. I mean, it’s not like she neglected the plants - she watered them, and the sun was out every day. The squash had to be there! It had to, but it wasn’t, but it absolutely was - maybe she was just overlooking something? Had she mistaken the squash for the pumpkin-

-

Adora sat back, leaning on her hands for support. She should have guessed. Adora’s eyes drifted across the room while she tried to think of a response. She couldn’t be mad at Catra, but she also couldn’t ignore her words.

“Adora, I’m so sorry,” Catra choked between wet, shaky breaths,” you don’t deserve this.”

Yeah. She didn’t deserve this, but she also didn’t deserve a military upbringing as a freshly abducted infant, so Adora was taking what she could get at this point. She dealt with Shadow Weaver for the first seventeen years of her life – and she was arguably on Shadow Weaver’s good side – she could handle Catra. She had been for around twenty years.

Adora shook her head lightly; albeit dumb-looking, the motion helped clear her thoughts. She reached forward, pulling Catra’s hands from her face, and set them in her lap. Catra didn’t resist Adora’s movements, but she did look away from her in an attempt to hide her tear-streaked face.

She still felt the need to hide her tears. It was the little things that reminded Adora of their shared trauma. They were just a pair of damaged kids who never got the childhood they deserved.

“Hey,” Adora started gently as she massaged Catra’s knuckles to make her claws resheath,” it’s okay… well, it’s not okay, but…”

Catra tried to draw her hands back, but Adora managed to keep her grounded. Catra’s tail thumped loudly on the bed next to her, cluing into her discomfort. Adora cleared her throat, racking her brain for something, anything to say.

She didn’t want to compare her girlfriend to a minefield – because that would be completely insensitive – but how could she navigate this? She was the one who got hurt, not Catra. Adora was used to pushing her feelings aside for the greater good, but Perfuma had been quite adamant that ignoring her feelings was, in fact, a bad quality. Catra usually preached the same thing, but sometimes her values would get lost in translation whenever she had particularly emotional episodes.

Adora let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension in the room become slightly more suffocating with each second she delayed her response. Finally, Adora settled on instigating. She didn’t need to comfort Catra right now; she needed to know what was going through her head.

“How about you tell me how much you remember?” Adora chased Catra’s eyes, and eventually, she caught them. Adora slowly reached up to wipe the dried tears on Catra’s face. The gesture was intimate; loving. Catra let out a long sigh before silently agreeing.

-

“The last thing-” Catra cleared her throat, semi-horrified at the scratchiness of her voice. Adora wordlessly picked up the now cooled teacup and held it out for Catra.

Catra accepted the cup with an embarrassed smile and promptly downed the entire cup. Tea leaves and all. It wasn’t as refreshing as she would have liked, but water is water. Even when it is contaminated with leaves.

“Damn, might as well eat the cup while you’re at it."

Catra whipped her head towards a semi-impressed-looking Adora, grinning. Naturally, Catra pushed Adora’s face away to heed her own embarrassment.

“Shut up!” Catra squeaked, Adora’s giggles easing the tension in the room.

What Catra used to playfully push Adora’s face away now hung suspended in the air, forgotten, while Catra stared at Adora. The blonde’s ability to bring comfort to whomever she spoke to in any situation always fascinated Catra. Her own lack of filter and interest in the general public usually made people feel worse. For a while, that’s what Catra preferred – easier to boss people around when they feared you. That wasn’t so much the case anymore.

When Adora stopped laughing, she opened her eyes to Catra’s outstretched hand inches away from her face. After a moment of visible confusion, Adora took Catra’s hand and held it to her own face. Catra quickly regained awareness and flattened her hand against Adora’s cheek, using her thumb to trace the top of her cheekbone.

Catra still couldn’t believe her luck. Here she was, holding Adora’s face in her hand. Beautiful, compassionate, heroic-

“You should take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Adora quipped, bringing her own hand to rest on Catra’s to prevent her from moving.

Thump.

Catra’s tail roughly collided with the bed as a low growl escaped her throat.

“Oh, shush. You love me.” Adora wrapped her arms around a hissy Catra who tried desperately to escape the blonde woman’s grasp.

After a few loud minutes of play-wrestling, Adora ended up straddling Catra while locking her arms above her head. The position was compromising in a number of ways, but after her day, she didn’t have it in her to challenge Adora any further. Catra instead slumped into the bed in defeat, pursing her lips in a silent request for a kiss. Adora obliged as one of her hands slipped down from Catra’s restrained wrists to her lower jaw.

As quick as it was initiated, the kiss was abruptly cut off by Adora sitting up. She managed to keep Catra’s back flush against the bed by moving her hand to Catra’s shoulder, holding her still. Catra groaned at the loss of contact, but she knew she couldn’t complain. They had unfinished business.

“Are you ready to spill now?” Adora questioned from her position above Catra.

The way she was sitting caused a shadow to hang over Catra. The warm fluorescent light of the room framed Adora’s shoulders, making her look, for lack of better words, angelic. Catra had been ready to talk for a while, but now she needed to catch her breath from how Adora’s thighs felt pressed against the sides of her hips.

Adora’s eyes softened as she studied the girl below her. Catra was always convinced that Adora could read her like a book with just one glance, but she didn’t seem to be reading anything. She was just observing. Appreciating. Then, Adora ran her pointer finger down the length of Catra’s jaw, ending at her chin.

“You’re so pretty,” Adora whispered, the tension in the room instantly absorbing the intimate words. Catra gulped. It felt like Adora was talking at her rather than to her – like she were on a different planet, observing Catra through a distant memory. Adora’s thumb traced the bottom of Catra’s lip absent-mindedly.

“Etheria to Adora,” Catra mumbled, gently pulling Adora’s hand off her face to hold instead,” are you ready to listen?” Adora blinked, the usually ever-present flame in her blue eyes returning. She quickly moved off of Catra, instead opting to sit on the edge of the bed. Catra stilled for a moment, suddenly feeling that sense of inadequacy returning to the pit of her stomach. What just happened?

“What’re you thinking about, ‘Dora?” Catra chanced while sitting up next to the blonde. Her tail thumped against the bed as if she were subconsciously timing the length between Adora’s answer. It only took three tail thumps for Adora to answer.

“You,” Adora stated, turning her head with a small, affectionate smile,” I’m always thinking about you.” The purr that ripped out of Catra was embarrassing. What was even more embarrassing was Catra’s immediate knee-jerk reaction to butt her head under the warrior’s chin, marking her. Adora giggled, allowing the magicat to complete her ritual. Only when Catra showed signs of slowing did Adora stop her girlfriend’s onslaught of rubbing.

“Okay, okay. Spill.” Catra’s purr subsided as she let out an exacerbated groan, dramatically flopping onto the bed. Adora moved to sit criss-cross, pointing toward the theatrical display.

“Fine,” Catra stared up at the ceiling while keeping Adora in her peripherals,” you had a meeting with Glimmer where she told you we couldn’t go back to space yet.” Catra glanced at Adora, seeking confirmation from her spot on the bed. Adora silently nodded. With another frustrated sigh, Catra continued.

“Then, I tried to calm you down, but we kind of got derailed arguing about the ethics of bestowing magic to oblivious colonies…”

“You actually had a good point,” Adora interrupted,” it’s worth bringing up at the next Alliance meeting.” A black hole began to form in Catra’s stomach. This is where she became lost in her head. She didn’t even remember what her stance was in the argument, nonetheless how to approach such a nuanced, controversial issue with the other princesses. She needed to calm down and focus on the issue at hand.

The issue at hand…

-

Adora squinted at Catra, noticing her sudden silence. That paired with Catra’s tail starting to thump against the bed gave Adora all the information she needed. Of course Catra forgot all the bad parts of their interaction. She wasn’t bitter or anything, just, wow. Sometimes she wondered if it would be easier if she could randomly forget all her traumatic experiences, too. One glance at Catra’s mountain of notebooks caused that thought to dissipate as soon as it arose. Catra didn’t only lose the bad parts; some good ones disappeared, too. Adora decided to pick up where Catra was struggling.

“You said people might not react to magic as well as we did, especially if they had never been exposed to it before,” Adora started, “you said that you initially hated magic.” At this point, Catra sat up, staring at Adora with unblinking eyes.

“I did,” Catra confirmed. Adora could see the dots connecting in her head in real-time. It didn’t take much for Catra to remember sometimes; just a gentle reminder of her words already seemed to steer her in the right direction. However, the hesitant curiosity in the girl’s eyes showed her that she hadn’t quite jogged her memory yet.

“Why?”

Catra continued to stare at Adora, waiting for her to give her just a little bit more information.

“Why did you hate magic, Catra?” Adora repeated slowly. Catra gulped, her ears flattening against her head. She was so close to remembering. Adora could feel it in the air. She thought it was similar to when the lights are off, but someone states they are about to turn them on. Call it anticipation.

“Because the first time I saw it in person, it took you away from me.” Catra’s claws had begun to dig into the comforter, so when she recoiled from the memories of their argument, she let out a hiss of pain at the tug. Adora snapped into action, planting her arms firmly on the magicat’s shoulders, preventing her from moving farther back. The additional weight only seemed to heighten whatever emotion Catra was feeling as the fur on her arm rose to stick straight up.

She looked terrified: pin-needle pupils, extended claws, smoothed ears. Adora wanted to back up and give her some space, but she didn’t want Catra to hurt herself. Instead, she tried to distract her by continuing their conversation.

“Why did you think magic took me away?” Adora asked, forcing her eyes to lock with an increasingly anxious Catra.

“Because you turned into a different person, Adora!” Catra yelled, shoving Adora away. She scurried backward, falling off the bed with a loud smack. During her fall, she had attempted to save herself by clawing the bedsheets. One could guess how that ended up for her.

-

Her head was so loud. Conversations warped over each other in a chaotic, spontaneous rhythm. She couldn’t even tell who said what as all the voices blended into one. She was on the ground; she knew that much. A splintering pain ran through her lower back, traveling up her spine to bounce off her already dense brain like an incredibly demented game of Pong.

It was too much. She couldn’t think with so much going on at the same time. She clamped her eyes shut as the patterned darkness from the blanket only served as an unnecessary distracting element at the moment. She would do anything to make sense of the running dialogue in her head. It came in spurts of clarity:

“Why didn’t you come with me?”

Why didn’t Catra go with her? She should have. She would have, but…

“So I’m just supposed to follow you wherever you go?”

“I didn’t say that!”

What did Adora say? That Catra will always be worthless? No, that wasn’t her. Adora doesn’t say those things. Does she?

“You just wanted an excuse to get away from me.”

Yeah, that sounds right. Adora never liked her. Adora abandoned her.

“Catra, you know that’s not true.”

Isn’t it? She was gone for so long-

“You can hide behind She-Ra all you want-”

Oh, She-Ra. Now Catra knew what Adora was talking about earlier, but she didn’t have a problem with She-Ra. She was a big, pretty lady-

“You abandoned the one person you swore to protect.”

Was this still about She-Ra? Was she thinking of the right conversation?

“I swore to protect everyone!”

When did she swear that?

“Who was the first?”

Me. I was the first, but she came back. Adora came back for me. Beautiful, wonderful-

“Yeah, that was real stupid of you.”

Catra’s eyes snapped open. She remembered.

Why did she say that? Why? She was so sick of feeling repulsed by herself. When will she learn to keep her fucking mouth closed? God, why was she like this? Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid-

Her heartbeat increased with the pacing of her internal self-ridiculing. She didn’t deserve Adora. She messed up everything she touched - it had been that way ever since she was a child. Weaver was right.

-

Adora watched the display in front of her in horror. Catra had never had a meltdown this bad. Well, excluding the three years they spent on opposite sides of a war, but that wasn’t relevant right now. The blonde wasn’t even totally convinced what she said was that bad. Yeah, it stung in the moment, but she knew Catra didn’t mean it. Heat of the moment, or whatever. But here Catra was, tearing herself up over it.

Usually, putting pressure on Catra’s body made her calm down. To be fair, only Adora could be the one applying the pressure, but still. But Adora touching her is why she freaked out in the first place? Think, Adora, come on.

Adora did a once-over of the bedroom, desperately searching for anything that could help. Notebooks? No, she wasn’t in the suitable mind space to write. Waterfall? I think Catra would commit homicide if she were to go anywhere near that waterfall right now. Teacup? Goddammit, Adora, it was empty already. Should she get her more tea? No, that would take too long. Adora was already taking too long! Screw it.

Suddenly, Adora scrambled off the bed and dropped to her knees next to Catra. Blankets had fallen on her when she clawed them down on her descent, so Adora’s first order of business was to get them off. She probably felt suffocated by them, worsening her state.

“Catra, baby, I’m taking off the blanket,” Adora attempted to warn. Although not confident Catra had heard her, Adora slowly began tugging the blanket off the seething brunette.

It didn’t take long for the blanket to get thrown aside. To Adora’s surprise, Catra wasn’t even fighting the blanket; she was fighting herself. Her claws framed the sides of her face, not quite hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to sting. Her pupils looked like needles when they shot towards Adora at the change of lighting. Her hair stood on end, a growl buzzing in her chest.

The blonde’s movements were slow; intentional. She allowed Catra’s eyes to follow her hands up to the claws clinging to the other girl’s face. The air was tense as if the Whispering Woods itself awaited Catra’s unpredictable response.

One by one, each of Catra’s claws were lifted from her face, soon replaced by the warmth of Adora’s hand rubbing the length of her head in soothing motions.

“Are you done being a pain in my ass?” Adora whispered, a sad smile indicating her sarcasm. Catra began to nod slowly but soon increased her speed as her hands returned to keep the blonde from moving. She closed her eyes, stray tears falling from the corners. Luckily, Adora was there to wipe them all away. After a moment of tender silence, Catra cleared her throat.

“Weaver was right about me.”

“Weaver wasn’t right about anything,” Adora retorted,” Don’t-”

“All I do is cause problems.” Catra turned her head further into Adora’s touch, soaking up the feeling of her presence.

“Catra, I love you, but shut up.” Adora wrapped her left hand around the other girl’s neck and pulled her into her lap. She used her free hand to brush down the brunette’s back, all the way to the tip of her tail. Catra nestled into the side of Adora’s neck while she grazed her claws at the woman’s back. Not enough to rip her nightshirt, just to feel the goosebumps bubble over her skin.

“I love you, too,” Catra mumbled into her neck. The vibration of her voice traveled through Adora’s neck and rang around her head. A chill ran down her spine after the sound’s third lap around her brain.

A beat of silence.

Two.

Three.

Time always moved slower when she held Catra.

Even though it had been months - almost a year now - since Catra had lost consciousness on Prime’s ship, Adora still waited for her heartbeat. It wasn’t every hug - just the ones that notably mirrored the one shared on that fateful day. The heartbeat always came now.

Always.

It didn’t stop Adora from listening. It was subconscious at this point; a gentle reminder her love lived. Lives.

After everything, she still lives.

It was a hell of a way to obliterate the significance of their argument. The way Catra’s tail wrapped around her arm almost made her forget they had any conflict at all. Adora knew the importance of maintaining boundaries and having conversations, but god. Sometimes all she wanted to do was hug her girlfriend. It had been enough when Catra first awoke on Darla, and it would always be enough for Adora. To hold her close. Close enough to bruise.

And maybe that was all they needed tonight: a messy excuse to comfort each other. That’s how their relationship worked in the Horde, so why change the meaning now? What are words spoken out of thought to poorly phrased responses? Redundant. If Adora couldn’t even adequately explain how much she adored the girl in her arms, then why bother?

Besides, they didn’t always have to be on the same page to appreciate each other. To love each other.

Sometimes, a hug was all they needed.

They could pick this topic up later because there would be a later, but this moment? A moment so meticulously crafted out of the two soldiers’ passion for each other - to understand each other. It was something that only warranted one explanation in Adora’s eyes: desire.

The desire to grow, the desire to love, the desire to understand. It was all the same. They both wanted the same thing.

And right now, all Adora wanted was Catra.