Work Text:
It wasn’t the fighting that hit hardest or cut deepest.
If anything, that was just proof she was important enough to be graced with her attention for a short period. The World’s Savior must have such a busy schedule after all.
It wasn’t the glares or looks of deflation after watching her own words fall flat time and time again as she pleaded for Catra to find the good in herself and join her.
What does she know anyway? The old her died when she left all those years ago. This Adora is a stranger to her now. A stranger to be put in their place and reminded of what it was that she decided to walk away so easily from.
The problem that always surfaced, the one that ate at the softer parts of Catra that she never let show, was the way Adora had made it so easy to leave her behind.
The hours spent scraping at the inside of her mind for clues on why it was so easy for everyone to expend her was enough torture than anything that the blonde warrior could ever do to her intentionally. While her mind drifted like a compass needle, always towards Adora’s direction, it only flared shame and anger because there was no chance that her old friend would waste time doing the same.
Adora made friends, gave freely, and was always the kind of person people gravitated towards. Everything Catra herself found impossible to do even if she secretly wished for the same.
Before the sword, before the Whispering Woods, she had stupidly put faith in her friend against her own better judgement. If their own caretaker found her to be insufficient, she knew in her mind that no one else would ever think more of her.
Even if there were promises whispered together as kids. She had been stupid to let her heart spark enough hope to believe what her beautiful words had sworn to her.
The first day she was gone, Catra remained on edge while doing her best to shield her from whatever consequences could come from what had happened. As noble as Adora was, she never had to put herself in harm's way like that because Shadow Weaver and the other cadets always believed her to be the negative influence. In the end, she was always the root of the problem. It made it easier to be the one to lie and cover for Adora but who really believed what she said anyway without the Golden Girl there to bolster her word?
Each hit she took from the radiantly transformed version of her friend only fueled her more. It was welcomed as a twisted reminder that she was finally worth Adora’s attention, even if just for a moment.
Each slice her claws delivered back was her own form of saying what she could never get her words too.
*Why was I so easy to leave?”
*You said ‘always‘ and lied.”
”What do they give you that I couldn’t?”
If it was power Adora wanted, Catra could do it. She climbed ranks faster and so much easier without Adora there to slow her down. But the pride was always fleeting because it only served its purpose for so long. New positions in the Horde meant that she was placed on the battlefield more frequently. Sometimes oppose Adora herself or one of her other little sidekicks.
True be told, Catra didn’t even know if she wanted Adora to keep begging for her to leave the Horde. She couldn’t pin point exactly when but eventually those pleas stopped and Adora seemed to harden herself.
She had finally caught up to everyone else and realized what Catra was and must have been disgusted enough to let it embolden her too. Her arms threw with more strength, her aim zeroed in on her, and the small traces of mercy she could easily exploit dried up. It made for more interesting fights when they clashed.
Through dark bruises and deep cuts, it was all better than the empty feeling of not existing in her life. Through each hit she took, it proved that she wasn’t something to just be ignored or thrown away.
The destruction and fear she inflicted made her feel worthy.
If she couldn’t be given the respect, then she would resort to taking it in whatever form delivered.
Underlings whispered about her in the halls. Enemies grimaced when they saw her opposite them on the battlefield. Seeing the faces of Adora’s replacement friends look at her with disdain brought her the closest thing to happiness that she had felt since Adora defected.
Even more when she had the opportunity to antagonize Adora up close in ways that only she knew how. Every inside bit of information was fair game in pulling a reaction from someone so mighty. Pulling such a dazzling savior down to her level was a back and forth that was something close to addicting.
“You’re really bad at this, ya know?” her voice taunted at Adora from across the rocky surface of another war torn town. Catra grinned gleefully at the small growing line of anger in Adora’s forehead.
Any jab would get her less focused and more desperate to get the altercation over with. Catra knew exactly what buttons to press on her over-achieving friend. Adora did too, she just hadn't used them with such readiness.
You hurt me, so I’m gonna hurt you back in whatever way I know how.
In the end, it always wound up the same. One side would take their leave and the other would be left feeling less than victorious. Adora still left with them, still chose them. Eventually Shadow Weaver had done the same.
Even someone like that who saw her rise in power, obtaining the ultimate goal of any cadet, and it still wasn’t enough. She would never be enough.
That thought kept her rigid and cold. It kept everything inside. She could be safe there.
Scorpia was the only one who ever seemed genuinely excited of her presence after Adora, but it could never fill that void. The history wasn’t there and Catra didn’t want anything further than whatever their stations required of them. Her touch wasn’t the same. It just wasn’t her.
Catra hated how much she caught herself longing for her.
Scorpia would prove her right again. She left too.
Everyone always leaves.
She was nothing though and it must be remarkably easy to leave when its someone worthless in the first place.
Light sounds of crackling echoed across the room as their green scales shifted into the familiar lightened hue. Shoulders bulked up into the form of that of a soldier and a different shade of blonde replaced Double Troubles as it morphed into the typical high ponytail Adora wore.
Hands on hips with a cocky smirk, they were nearly the real thing.
Catra's chest felt tight. A confusion mixture of hate and something else suddenly made breathing more of a labor.
A predatory grin splayed across “Adora’s” face. Suddenly the expression softened, a new look of care and longing replaced it and Double Trouble slipped right into character.
“Catra,” her voice hitched. “I’ve missed you…”