standing on the edge of tonight
Would you look at that, here I am! I’ve never written a She-Ra fic before, but I wanted to give it a try, so I wrote this short pre-canon fic! I hope it’s somewhat in-character. I’m open to prompts, fic recs, and generally anyone who would like to say hi as I explore the fandom! Also, if you’d like to be added to a taglist, I can make one!
(Title is from The Edge Of Tonight by All Time Low. This fic is on Ao3 here!)
Words: 2742
Pairings: Catradora (pre-canon and pre-romantic)
Warnings: self-deprecation and self-hatred, implied abuse
“I‘m never going to be Force Captain.”
Catra raises her eyebrows as Adora practically tosses herself at the railing. She sinks low onto it and grumbles in protest. Of what, Adora’s not really sure. Of something.
“You’re kidding, right?” Catra teases. “Of course you’re gonna be Force Captain. You’re all law-abiding and boring, it’s bound to happen.”
“Boring?”
Catra smirks.
Adora sticks her tongue out, and usually this would lead to a play-fight, where Adora can grab Catra in a headlock or Catra can shove her to the side. Or they’ll just and catch each other. It’s a great night for a race, the sky warm and dark, and nobody expects them inside for a little while longer.
But Adora can’t find the heart.
She sighs, sinking further down on the railing and running a hand along the edge. Her hand catches on the rust. The wind ruffles her hair and she sighs again, tracing shapes in the clouds, feeling a loose and wavy kind of tired. She should be in bed. It’d be easier if she was in bed, getting sleep for tomorrow, but she’d come out here with Catra anyway. Of course she had. She couldn’t imagine just leaving Catra here alone, no matter how tired Adora felt.
No matter how terrible she feels right now, wind whipping her ponytail, staring into the clouds.
“Adora?” Catra asks in her special I’m-totally-not-worried tone. “Did something happen? Did--did Shadow Weaver--”
“No!” Adora interrupts. “No, nothing like that. I just--”
The words won’t come. She feels awful, she knows that much. So awful she can’t begin to imagine putting up a front like usual. Maybe she should try anyway. It’s not becoming of a Horde soldier to sulk.
Adora tries for a smile. It barely makes it onto her face before sinking away. So much for that.
“It’s fine,” Adora says anyway, convincing no one and only said for the sake of filling the silence.
“Doesn’t sound fine.”
Catra’s perched on the railing, tail around her legs, and Adora would be scared if she didn’t know Catra well. She swears Catra has never fallen in her life. It’s a long, dark drop below, and Catra swings her legs out over it, like she knows exactly what’s at the bottom and is positive she’d survive it.
“Adora?” Catra asks again.
“How was your day?” Adora blurts out, her voice too sharp. She can’t think of what else to do. “Pull any good pranks on Kyle?”
Maybe Catra wants the change of pace as much as Adora does, because her face splits in a smile and she begins rambling about some prank involving ration bars and an old helmet. Adora tries to listen, she really does. But everything’s so heavy tonight, and Catra’s words fall far below them before Adora can catch them.
“And then--Adora? Adora!”
“Here!” Adora jerks her head up. “I--”
“Adora,” Catra says, eyes unreadable if you were anyone but Adora, who knows those yellow eyes better than her own. “You weren’t listening.”
“Sorry.” Adora gives Catra a sheepish grin. “What were you saying?”
Catra tilts her head, tail lashing behind her. “Something’s definitely wrong. What is it? Who do I need to scratch? I will, don’t test me--”
“No one!” Adora looks pleadingly at Catra, who glares back, and Adora has a sinking feeling that Catra might just attack everyone if she doesn’t get a specific name.
Adora sighs.
“Nothing,” she says. “I--I just had training earlier, and Shadow Weaver--”
“I knew it!” Catra exclaims. “What’d she do?”
“Nothing!” Adora insists. “Catra, she’s not--”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” Catra rolls her eyes. “Fine. What did Shadow Weaver, in her infinite wisdom and out of the goodness of her heart, say to you?”
Adora hesitates. “I didn’t do well in training.”
“No duh, you were sick last week.” Catra shrugs. “I still stay you should have taken a day off. It’s a good excuse to slack.”
“The Horde never rests,” Adora reminds her. “And it was just a cold.”
“Whatever.” Catra waves a hand. “So you were tired and didn’t get a perfect score on whatever weird simulation they cooked up today. Big deal. You’re still everyone’s favorite.”
Adora flinches despite herself. Catra’s eyes narrow, and Adora feels uncomfortably like they’re sparring, like Catra’s sizing her up and deciding whether to fight back.
“And Shadow Weaver,” Adora continues when Catra doesn’t say a word, “said that--that I couldn’t slack off like this. I’d be embarrassing both of us, and just because--” Adora cuts herself off. Catra doesn’t need to hear that part.
“What?” Catra asks anyway. Always so smart. Adora loves it, and tonight she wishes Catra would back off. For both their sakes.
“Nothing,” says Adora again, like that’ll make it true. “You don’t want to hear it.”
“Try me.” Catra’s hands are stiff on the railing. “Haven’t got all night, Adora.”
“She--” Adora bites her lip. “She said I couldn’t expect to succeed just because I wasn’t as--lazy--as you.”
There’s a long, bottomless silence.
“What?” Catra laughs. “Hey, you aren’t seriously worried that’ll bother me, right? Nothing I haven’t heard before! I work hard to do nothing, Adora, relax. It’s a compliment!”
“You should try harder,” Adora says, gladly jumping at the familiar argument. “It’s important for you to do your best.”
“Important for who, Shadow Weaver? Or Hordak in his stupid sanctum?” Catra swings around the railing, leaning back and tossing an arm over the side. “Why bother? Too much work. All the rest of you can take care of it--I don’t care.”
“You won’t become a Force Captain if you act like that.”
“Who said I wanted to be a Captain?” Catra snorts. “I don’t need any of those stupid little badges. I don’t care what they think of me.” She stills. “But you do.”
“Of course I do,” Adora says. “I’m going to be a Horde Captain. I’ll make myself useful--I’m a good fighter, they could use me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Catra gives her a long look, and Adora gets the feeling she’s being judged, though she’s not sure what for.
“I get that,” Catra says, “but maybe keep that between us?”
“Why?”
“You’re putting it all out there,” Catra explains. “Why don’t you ever hold back? Choose how they see you, instead of letting yourself out in the open like that.”
“They see me for who I am,” Adora argues. “There’s no point in hiding it--I am a Horde soldier.”
“You are a Horde soldier,” Catra repeats. “And what happens when you aren’t enough? Like today?”
Catra doesn’t mean to hurt her. Adora knows that. But it stings, and Adora stares into the shifting sky to hide the prickling of her eyes.
“Today was an off day,” she says, keeping her voice steady. “I was tired. I’ll be better tomorrow.”
“And one day you’ll be tired again.” Catra watches Adora out of the corner of her eye. “One day they’ll stop giving you a tomorrow, Adora, it’d be so much harder to fall if you tried a little less!”
“What else am I supposed to?” Adora snaps.
“I don’t know!” Catra’s tail twitches, and her hands jerk, and she’s frustrated and so is Adora, and they’re pulled tight and ready to snap. “Lie low? Stop making a spectacle of your weaknesses? You’re so earnest all the time, can’t you set your standards a little lower?”
“I’m not going to fail to make you look better!”
Adora hates the words the moment they leave her mouth. Catra flinches back, eyes wide, and before Adora can do anything--what? What would she do?--Catra is turning away.
“Wait!” Adora yells, reaching out a hand. Catra runs down past the railing and jumps to a nearby pipe, and soon she’ll be out of reach, somewhere in the maze of metal that makes up their home.
“Wait! Catra! Please!”
Catra’s leaving. Catra’s leaving, because Adora messed up. It’s all her fault, she should have gone straight to bed and not bothered her best friend, how is she supposed to ever be Force Captain if she’s such a failure--
“I’m sorry!” Adora bursts out. “Catra, I’m sorry, and I’ll find you if I have to, but if you can, please stay!”
Catra is quiet, frozen, her tail twitching and her ears flat, balanced on the edge of a pipe and one jump from disappearing.
“I’m sorry,” Adora pleads, hearing her voice crack. “I didn’t mean that. I’m tired, I’m--I’m frustrated--please, Catra!”
There’s another long silence that sinks past them slowly. Adora feels vaguely like she’s falling, like the platform beneath her feet is tilting and giving way.
“Don’t leave,” Adora whispers. “Please.”
Catra glances back at her, and she can try to hide it all she wants, but Adora sees the tightness around her eyes.
“This isn’t about me,” Catra says slowly.
“I know,” Adora says, relief flooding her. “I know, I know, and we can talk about it if you stay.”
Slowly, so slowly, Catra inches her way back to the railing. She sits on it, hands around her knees, the wind blowing her hair. She’s not looking at Adora.
Adora’s apologized, but her words still hang in the air, and she doesn’t know what to do next.
“I was just trying to help,” Catra says quietly, her voice hard. “I just wanted to--you’re gonna get hurt, and I was trying to keep you safe.”
Adora laughs a bit, because it’s so strange to hear that. “No, that’s me, that’s what I do for you.”
“Yeah, and it’s not--” Catra huffs and starts again. “It isn’t--I’m not the only one in danger here, right?”
“Danger?” Adora repeats, and laughs again, because what else can she do? “Danger--Catra, this is our home!”
“And?” Catra gives Adora a challenging look, and Adora doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t get it. What is Catra saying--that Adora’s not safe? Of course Adora’s safe. There’s nowhere safer than here, in the heart of the Horde, under Shadow Weaver’s wing. If Adora trains hard, like she has her whole life, she’ll be the best. She’ll be worthy of everyone who gave her a chance. That’s how it is. It’s always been safe--it’s been everything Adora’s ever known.
And the only way to keep Catra safe is to be strong.
“Who am I kidding?” Catra mutters. “Of course you’re not. And of course hiding won’t work for you. You’re you and I’m me and--you could never pull it off.”
That makes sense. Catra is the one who hides, because Catra is the one who’s in trouble, because Catra is the one who gets herself into trouble. Catra is the one everyone hates. Adora isn’t like that.
Adora has never needed to hide.
But also, that doesnt make sense. Because Catra’s tone is tight and angry and sad and pointed in all the wrong places. Catra is upset, and Adora doesn’t know why.
“What do you mean?” Adora asks, hoping to coax Catra further.
Catra’s silent for a long, long time. “I worry about you, Adora.”
Adora’s breath catches in her throat.
“I get that it’s different. I get that everyone likes you. I get that you’re not the one who makes mistakes.” Catra turns to her, eyes wide. “But you’re setting yourself up for--Adora, can’t you keep yourself safe? Don’t you want to?”
“I am safe,” Adora says, feeling weirdly close to tears.
“You’re not going to be!” Catra waves a hand at her. “You’re always just so--so--insufferable! And you try too had, and--and if you’re so obvious about what you want, someone’s going to try and take it away!”
There’s a long, thick silence once again, and Adora’s chest is cold.
“Catra?” she asks softly.
Catra turns away. “Forget it.”
“Catra--”
“I said, forget it!”
Adora lets her voice grow quiet. “Is that why you don’t care about the Horde?”
“I don’t care about it,” Catra snaps. “You’ll do all the work and I can take half the credit, like always.”
Adora lets out a long breath. “Maybe--maybe if you let yourself have what you want, you could get it?”
Catra laughs. It’s an empty, harsh sound, and Adora hates it. “The world doesn’t work that way.”
“It could.”
“It doesn’t.”
Adora stares at her hands.
“Do you think,” she says slowly, “I could ever be a Force Captain?”
Because if Catra needs it, she will be. If Catra needs safety, she’ll give it. If Catra says Adora can do it, she can.
“Yeah, obviously,” Catra says, like it’s a fact. Something they learn in training. Princesses are the enemy, you don’t disrespect Shadow Weaver, and Adora is going to be the best one day. “Glad you’re done being stupid about that. You’ll be Force Captain and I’ll use that to get extra rations.”
“You’ll be Force Captain too,” Adora corrects. “Or--or higher, even. We could be more than that.”
“Could we?”
“Of course!”
“We could,” Catra says, as if Adora’s saying facts too, as if Adora is somehow convincing her by virtue of existing. Catra smiles. “I think we’d do a good job running the Horde.”
“We’d crush the princesses,” Adora says, beginning to smile back. “We’d both get new rations without needing to steal extra, we’d prank Kyle--”
“We’d see active duty,” Catra adds. “We’d see the world.”
“We’ll see the world.” Adora stares into the sky. “And we’ll--we’ll make it however we want. We’ll make it ours, just you and me.”
“Me and you,” Catra says, and in the light of the night sky, balanced against the wind, she looks like she really could conquer the world.
If she can do it, so can Adora.
If Catra needs it--if they both need it--Adora can try hard enough for both of them.
And they’ll make a world where they’re together, for as many nights as they need.
“Sounds like a plan,” Adora says, grinning.
“Sounds like the best plan.” Catra shrugs. “And, I mean, I guess you’ll have to train harder, if you want to rule the world and everything.”
“Yeah,” Adora admits. “So--”
“So I heard the training room is still open,” Catra finishes, looking at Adora hesitantly. “And I wouldn’t be caught dead doing extra credit, and this is not because I like you, but if you really need it--”
“You’d practice with me?” Adora’s eyes widen. “Really?”
Catra hisses and blushes. “Maybe--shut up! This doesn’t mean anything!”
But it does, and they both know it.
“Okay,” Adora says. “Let’s practice.”
“Great!” Catra jumps off the railing with a grin. “And I’m not gonna go easy on you.”
“I’ll still win!”
“You wish!”
Adora bumps Catra’s shoulder, and Catra bumps back, and now they’re chasing each other down the hallway, laughing, smiling so wide that Adora’s heart is going to burst from her chest. Catra’s laughing. Catra’s laughing and teasing Adora and it’s just the two of them, and nothing bad can happen as long as they’re together.
This is why Adora tries.
This is what Adora will fight for, and this is what she’ll do anything to protect. This is the world she will create, piece by piece, and this is the world she will train to deserve.
Her hand slips into Catra’s. Catra squeezes it. Adora squeezes back.
In the end, all Adora wants is this--for Catra to be happy.
And if Adora has to succeed, she will. If she has to lead, she will. If she has to be the best and the strongest and the fastest, if that keeps Catra safe and happy and under control and by her side, she will be.
Adora and Catra will rule the world together, and Adora can’t wait to see it.
But for now, it’s late, and they’re breaking into the training room. For now, Adora needs to prepare for a sparring session. For now, she has a long way yet to go.
And she won’t fail. She won’t stumble. She won’t fall.
Catra can land on her feet, Catra can hide and run and survive in the way only Catra can, but Adora gets one chance to make everyone proud.
Adora will rise, because she doesn’t have a choice.
And she’ll carve out a piece of the world for them. They deserve it, because the world has refused to give it willingly, and Catra needs a place to stay.
Adora will make that for her. It’s the least she can do.
Come anything, Adora will stay by her side.
