thinking about Adora and Catra returning to Bright Moon and trying to settle down but it’s not quite home. and the Fright Zone is all lush and overgrown and the change is good but it’s not home either. there’s rebuilding to do but that comes with a lot of paperwork and the two of them get restless. they’re made for action, not bureaucracy.
it starts off as something of a joke, a mention of a defunct artifact that someone should check on just in case. and if they’re so restless, maybe they’d have fun looking for it? one mission swiftly turns into two, three, twelve, forty-seven.
it’s not the ruins that Adora and Catra love, it’s seeing the world together.
somewhere on their fifth or sixth mission, they find a derelict horde skiff in the whispering woods. it’s bigger than the one they took there on a joy ride all that time ago, but it still feels like a sign. it takes a few favours to pull the thing out and fix it up, but soon enough the skiff is running and the interior has been converted into a slightly cramped but personalized living space.
it starts with a bunk that’s larger than they would normally sleep in - it’s big enough for two people - but Adora and Catra still squeeze into one side. (the other side is for Melog, who still prefers to sprawl out over the small parts of Adora that aren’t already being covered by Catra.)
everyone donates something to the ship for Adora and Catra to use. some of it is strictly decorative, like the custom sails that Sea Hawk commissions for them (despite the fact that the skiff doesn’t need sails) or the overly excessive amount of pillows from Glimmer. other things are much more useful, like the communicators from Bow and the trapping gear from Huntara.
then there’s the tiny, sheltered nook on the open bow that Scorpia builds for Melog to curl up in, on days when they’re traveling but the weather isn’t too nice. Mermista sighs heavily as she hands them a bottle filled with a magical, glowing liquid and a note in familiar handwriting that says: “break in case of ADVENTURE!”
and despite constant supervision from both Adora and Catra, Entrapta still manages to install some sort of superboost to the engine. it only takes a week before Adora and Catra (and Melog) know not to press the red button next to the engine chord (or at least hold on for dear life before they do.)
they take the skiff everywhere, they live out of it. sometimes just docking it to a tree and living in the woods for a month or two. every kingdom, every friend, always enjoys a stay from the couple for a few weeks at least. they always have new stories to share of their adventures. sometimes others go on adventures with them. (the best friend squad has a minimum quota of two missions per year.)
but at the end of day, it always comes back to Adora and Catra. it’s just like they used to dream about as kids - they’re traveling the world together.
Glimmer asks what it’s like to call such a cramped skiff home, but Adora just shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t really think about it.”
“the skiff really isn’t home,” Catra continues, Melog is slumped against both her and Adora, purring happily. “just like the Fright Zone was never really home.”
“yeah,” Adora agrees. “home isn’t the skiff, it’s just... wherever we are.”
“wherever we are, together.”
Catra’s hand slides into Adora’s and she smiles so pretty that they have to kiss.
Glimmer sighs and covers her eyes. “I’m still eating breakfast, guys.”
-they grew up together because it’s incredibly hard for me to write an AU where they haven’t known each other for their whole lives
-Catra was the one who always wanted to play goalie first but Adora wanted to be cool like Catra and as they got older, Adora was the one who got preferential treatment from the coaches
-the AU starts out with them playing for the same team, probably juniors??? idk the intricacies of actually being on a hockey team, I really only know the game as a spectator (being trans didn’t afford me a lot of opportunity to actually play growing up, not to mention the cost)
-anyway, Adora is the starting goalie for the Horde, and Catra’s the backup, but Adora is constantly overworked so her performance flags by the end of the season, causing the team to miss the playoffs or get knocked out the first round
-Catra only plays a handful of games each season, and it’s not enough for her to get into a groove, so her performances are often poor because she’s playing cold and the team in front of her doesn’t trust her to be as good as Adora, so they overcompensate and give up bad shots that Adora never has to worry about (which, in turn, means Catra gets less playing time)
-there’s some scandal during the off-season, maybe the Horde used illegal recruiting tactics or something, and with the team losing a deluge of draft picks as punishment, they can’t replace all the players aging out of the system, sothey’re forced to trade Adora for more players
-Adora becomes the starting goalie for Bright Moon while Catra takes over her spot in the Horde and it turns out that with regular play time, Catra is actually??? just as good as Adora??? but obvs Shadow Weaver/the coaching staff is unwilling to acknowledge that
-the season is a hot mess and halfway through, there’s a line brawl during a Bright Moon v Horde match with the main fight card belonging to Adora and Catra at centre ice, resulting in a lot of suspensions
-Catra gets cut from the team because of the suspension, Adora ends up getting injured while she’s suspended and Bright Moon just sees that Catra’s available and is like “it’s free real estate” basically. she still has to serve the rest of her suspension, but Catra plays the tail end of the season for Bright Moon and secures a playoff berth
-first round is prob against the Horde and Catra gets injured just as Adora is ready to play again. Adora comes in and plays well because it turns out resting your goalie is good, actually
-Bright Moon gets knocked out in the second round anyway and it kinda sucks but Adora and Catra are gonna play for Bright Moon next season together and they’re gonna be a tandem, splitting games equally and then they’ll win the cup
-or maybe that was their last season in juniors but it doesn’t matter that they didn’t win because they’re committing to the same college??? idk idk but what matters is that they’re together again and their relationship is balanced in a way that it wasn’t before
-also they’ll start kissing each other at some point and I just that’s very important of them
-She-ra’s tiara and Catra’s mask being incorporated into their goalie masks is very important to me, especially since it gives me the opportunity for Adora to incorporate Catra’s design into a new mask the same way She-ra’s S5 form has the Catra inspired mask
-I just really love goalies and I feel like they don’t get enough love in hockey AUs
-sorry not sorry I basically spoiled the whole plot
any two OCs (im not familiar with them) and 1,3,5,7,9... and 26!
Latch/Kee
Latch (she/her), late 20s, 5′9, short reddish brown hair. She’s a planetside miner who became a intergalactic smuggler after her younger sibling ran afoul of the local crime lord (who works for a bigger, badder space faction).
Kee (they/them) early 30s, 5′8, long black hair. They’re a former smuggler turned shady information dealer turned smuggler AGAIN thanks to Latch.
1. Who makes the first move and how?
The first time they dated, it was Latch who made the first serious move that pushed the two of them towards a relationship. At the time, Kee was still a smuggler and a pretty big asshole. There was a lot of, somewhat malicious, flirting back and forth from the moment the two met, but it wasn’t until Kee skipped out of their fourth job in a row to spend the night that Latch really pushed and got them to admit there were actual feelings involved.
On the second go around, it’s Kee who puts the ball in Latch’s court. After a run-in with some baddies, Kee passes up on a chance at vengeance to save the group. They reiterate to Latch that they really are changed, even if they still aren’t the most morally sound person. Latch thinks about it, gets some encouragement from a few other people, and then all but breaks down the door to Kee’s quarters so she can kiss them.
3. Who is the most romantic?
Kee, for sure. Although both have a pretty warped idea of romance. Latch grew up working in the mines so she’s lost her ability to care about a lot of frivolous things, but it works, because Kee’s idea of a romantic gift is a knife designed to gut someone or a night out destroying a military blockade together while listening to some classical music in a dimmed cockpit.
5. Who says “I love you” first?
Kee said it first. I think Latch wanted to say it first, but she was worried that Kee would never say it back. Kee definitely surprised her by saying it, and they never really stopped saying it, even for the time that the two weren’t together.
That first time: It was another clandestine night, Latch was in Kee’s ship, in Kee’s bed, and they were letting her have access to whatever she wanted, which was baffling to her, because Kee’s very particular about the security of their ship. When Latch asked why she was allowed so many exceptions in their life, Kee told her simply, “because I love you” as if she should’ve already known.
7. What do they get up to on a night out?
Destroying military property mostly, at least these days. On an actual date night, Kee will kick everyone else off the ship and use some of their many connections to score some rare contraband - like a rare wine and some chocolate (chocolate is very hard to come by in space) - for a private, candlelit dinner.
Latch is more likely to plan their outings planetside, as she’s not super fond of being trapped on a ship all the time, and just explore the markets and clubs, getting shitfaced and then taking Kee to a private room somewhere to get down and dirty.
9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?
For Latch, it was actually her first time meeting Kee. She tried to fend off Kee from stealing some shipments from the mine by brandishing the plasma axe she uses for mining, but the whole thing kind of backfired and she accidentally trapped them in a room together with no way out for almost two days. Kee was incredibly smug about it.
For Kee, they made a big boast about fighting some guy that kept checking Latch out, but Kee slipped on the way over and knocked themself out on a table. Also there are at least two times that Kee has almost piloted the ship into an asteroid belt/debris/wreckage because they were too busy staring at Latch’s ass instead of actually paying attention. Honestly, Kee is just. constantly embarrassing themself in front of Latch. I doubt it will ever end.
26. Why do they need to have a serious chat?
I mean, Latch and Kee are exes who decided to date again, so there’s a LOT for them to talk about. In all honestly, neither has changed a lot but both have different priorities now and being honest about what both want from the relationship is, uh, key to keeping things together this time around.
theivorytowercrumbles replied to your post “I know late on a sunday isn’t the best timing, but I’ve got a couple...”
Catradora playing a sport together :D
this ended up being less “catradora playing a sport” and more “adora gets injured (and catra + sports were involved)”
---
(“Adora? Adora?”
She comes to, lying flat on the grass, with Catra staring down at her. Her ears are ringing and there are more and more people surrounding her, but she barely notices them, too focused on the desperate worry in Catra’s eyes.)
Adora sits on the locker room bench with her head bowed, arms propped on her knees, ears buzzing like a static TV channel at max volume. On the other side of the room, she can see the medical trainer talking with Coach Weaver, but can't actually hear what they're saying.
Her vision blurs and she takes in a deep breath, pushing down a swell of nausea and pain.
Coach Weaver leaves and the medical trainer comes back, puts a hand on Adora's shoulder. "Take it easy for a bit, okay? Game's almost over, then you can go home."
Adora nods, even though it's painful and dizzying. She can't afford to be injured and she's tough, she'll bear through it just fine. No need to worry anyone. "Thanks," she says.
The medical trainer leaves, turning the light off on the way out. The darkness is a blessed relief for Adora's eyes. She waits, silently measures time until she thinks it's been long enough to have a safe moment alone.
Then she slumps against the lockers and groans pitifully.
"Jeez, Coach said you were a little banged up, not dying."
Catra's voice shocks Adora back into a sitting position, but she slouches again after a moment. Catra's the one person she never feels pressured to act tough around. Even when she does, her best friend can easily see through it.
"Ugh, Catra," Adora groans, head still pounding. "What do you want?"
"What? I can't check up on my best friend after she got injured?" Catra asks, hands on her hips, grinning devilishly. Her expression falters after a second. "Also I got ejected from the game, so."
Adora snorts, amused, but that just makes her head hurt more. "Not surprising, considering this," she gestures to herself, "is kinda your fault."
"It is not!" Catra defends. Loudly. When Adora winces at the volume, Catra quiets her voice while maintaining her conviction. "I was just trying to steal home," she hisses. "Kyle is the one who didn't move out of the way. And it was his bat that hit you." She scowls, crossing her arms defensively. "And you had your helmet on," she mumbles. She turns away from Adora, but then sits down next to her anyway. "Also, what's with you and head injuries?"
Adora just chuckles softly and leans against Catra's shoulder. It's much more comfortable than the wall and she's tired of keeping herself propped up. She laughs again.
It's enough to make Catra turn towards her. "What are you laughing about? This is serious. Your brain's already weird enough without all these head injuries."
Adora just shakes her head, keeping her laugh stifled but unable to actually stop, too caught up in an old memory. "Remember when we were six and you tried to steal a base by literally taking it out of the ground?"
"Oh my god," Catra falls back against the wall dramatically, voice overflowing with exasperation and embarrassment. "Stop bringing that up. I'm the best base stealer in the league now. I've broken almost every record."
Almost every record. There’s just one left.
The record for most steals of home plate in a single game. A record that Catra would've broken today, if things hadn’t gone the way they had.
She can recall the key parts of the incident vividly, although they playback a little disjointed. Catra at second base, the pitcher winding up, Catra breaking into a full on sprint, two blown throws by the opposing team and Kyle standing in the batter’s box, too dumbfounded to get out of the way as Catra ran towards home plate with all the force of a freight train.
There was, presumably, a collision of stupid proportions at home plate, and Adora, who’d been standing in the on deck circle, was somehow the one who got injured. But Adora doesn’t remember any of that.
All she remembers is darkness and Catra’s voice calling.
(“Adora? Adora?”)
And Adora knows that if she hadn't gotten injured, Catra would've had a better chance of completing the game without being ejected.
"I'm sorry, I know you wanted to break that last record today."
Catra shrugs halfheartedly, wrapping her arm around Adora's shoulders. "Eh, it doesn't matter. I don't really care about those, y'know? They're just fun to rub in the faces of people who do care."
A year or two ago, Adora might've taken Catra's words at face value, believed them to be true. But she knows better now. Catra cares more than she wants to admit. "You do care," Adora says, softly, because speaking too loud feels like turning on a microphone and putting it right next to a plugged in speaker. "You don't have to lie to me."
"I'm not lying," Catra says, lying.
Adora starts rolling her eyes but stops because the motion makes her nauseous. She pauses, shudders, and takes a deep breath; Catra's eyes narrow in concern. "Yeah, okay. Whatever, liar,” Adora says. “I know you care. You care about a lot of things."
"I care about finishing my last year at this dumb school so I can do what I want without some stupid teacher breathing down my neck." Catra says with a huff, slipping her arm away from Adora so she can kneel in front of her instead.
"And me."
"What?" Catra's distracted, fingers brushing loose strands of hair from Adora’s brow.
"You care about me." Adora says. It's not a question because she already knows the answer. Especially when Catra is cupping her face with both hands and looking into her eyes with concern, clearly trying to figure out how bad the damage is.
"Ugh, yes, you dummy. I care about you."
"Well, after that display out there, I'm not sure I believe you," Adora teases, feigning a pout.
"Aw, does it still hurt?" Catra teases right back, voice low. She pokes Adora in the cheek but she’s careful to touch somewhere it won’t hurt. Then, gentler, "Does it?"
"Yeah, actually," Adora admits. She reaches up, touches her temple. "Right here."
There's a moment of heavy silence, the kind that feels fit to burst. Then the fingers along Adora's jaw move and Catra presses her lips, soft as a feather, to Adora's temple.
"Here?" Catra murmurs.
"Y-yeah."
The lips brush against Adora's cheekbone next.
"Here, too, right?"
It doesn't hurt there, but Adora gets the feeling that isn't what Catra's asking. "Yeah."
The next brush of lips is next to her nose, warm breath fanning against her skin.
Adora can feel the current of anticipation building in her veins, in the thrum of her heart, in the air around her. She curls her fingers in Catra's shirt right as their lips meet.
It's soft, and sweet, and Adora feels more than a little light-headed as Catra pulls away, keeling forwards after her.
"Oh, crap! I forgot you're like totally concussed right now," Catra hisses, steadying Adora and letting her lean back against the wall.
Catra turns to scramble for an ice pack or something while Adora watches, her heart pounding and cheeks pleasantly warm. Catra suddenly looks a little bit softer than before. Maybe it’s the concussion talking but, "I always knew one day you'd knock me off my feet."
Catra freezes and she doesn't turn back around but Adora can see the red flaring across the back of her neck. "This isn't funny!"
this uh ended up being a helluva lot longer than I planned it being and I’m not sure if it’s what you were expecting, but here ya go
takes place at some point after season 1, when the war is presumably even more serious | warnings for brief depictions of abuse (because Shadow Weaver)
It all happens so fast.
This isn’t the First Ones’ ruin, where Catra had time to decide. Time to steel herself, time to build her resolve, time to convince herself that pushing Adora away and drawing a clear line between them was what she wanted. Time to put conscious effort into cutting Adora down.
But they’ve watched each others’ backs for so long that it’s not something easily unlearned. It’s muscle memory. It’s instinct.
It’s the only explanation for why she leaps, knocking She-Ra out of the way and putting herself in position to get hit instead. There’s a scream and everything goes dark.
—
“Careful, Catra. Adora’s not here to protect you anymore.”
But that was never really true, was it?
On the surface, it always looked like Adora was protecting her, vouching for her despite her “bad behaviour.” But it was always Catra that Shadow Weaver went after. Even when Adora was clearly the guilty party, Catra was always the one that suffered. And when Catra actually was at fault, the threat of Adora being punished in her stead was enough for Catra to choose to suffer alone.
But Adora’s not here anymore so there’s nothing that Shadow Weaver can use to threaten Catra.
…Adora’s not here anymore.
Catra screams, tears up Adora’s bed, and tries to forget all the pain she’s suffered for nothing.
—
Agony shoots up Catra’s spine, from the tip of her tail to the base of her brain. Shadow Weaver’s magical energy surrounds her, red electricity crackling.
“Stop!” seven-year-old Adora shouts. “I was the one who took your stuff.”
Shadow Weaver regards Adora, mask showing nothing as she regards the young girl coldly. “And yet it was not you who I caught with my things.”
The electricity crackles again, Catra whimpers, but isn’t able to do much else, paralyzed by Shadow Weaver’s powers. Even her tears are stuck, unable to pool.
“I said stop!” Adora argues again and Shadow Weaver suddenly turns her attention away from Catra, dropping the spell and cornering Adora with her shadows.
“Do not. Speak back to me, child,” she snarls. Then she softens oh so slightly, hand cupping Adora’s chin. “Or do you wish to suffer as well?”
Adora looks terrified, shaking, but she still looks past to Shadow Weaver to Catra, who’s staggering to her feet. Catra meets her gaze and shakes her head. There’s no use in both of them getting punished, and she doesn’t want Adora to get hurt anyway.
Adora slumps, resigned, and if a mask could smile, that’s what Shadow Weaver does, clearly pleased by the show of deference. “As I thought,” then she backs away, allowing Adora to rush to Catra’s side. She watches them, as if intrigued. “Don’t test me again.”
—
Sparring among groups of trainees do have rules, but the earlier a trainee realizes that the rules were made to be circumvented, the more successful they are. It’s not the only way to succeed, but it’s the best way. So it’s no surprise when a group of seniors bring illegal weaponry into the sparring room, for the sole purpose of using it against Adora, who is a notoriously tough opponent, even for a junior.
Catra sees it first, recognizes it for what it is, and gets in the way. The seniors are trying to pull a fast one on Adora, who’s already engaged in combat and trusting the others to follow the rules.
The shock baton hurts, but it’s nothing compared to the shit Shadow Weaver’s put her through.
As soon as it happens, Adora is all over the guy, tearing the weapon from his hands and pinning him, raining blow after blow into his face while he struggles to defend himself. The fight devolves into an all out brawl that ends with the instructor getting elbowed in the nose by Adora when he tries to drag both girls away from the seniors. (The seniors are clearly the losing party of the brawl, with one loudly complaining that Catra bit her and bleeding profusely from the arm. Catra only laughs in her face before the instructor grabs her by the back of her collar and tosses her towards the locker room.)
Afterward, when they’re in the locker room cleaning up, Lonnie taps Catra lightly on the shins with her staff. “You’re lucky Adora looks out for you. That really would’ve ended badly otherwise.”
Catra just scoffs and pushes Lonnie’s staff away, going over to Adora, who looks exhausted even though she barely broke a sweat. She thinks about sitting next to her, but there’s too many people still. She rifles through her locker for a bit. When everyone else has left, Adora whispers. “Thanks for having my back out there.”
“Someone’s gotta watch out for your dumb ass,” Catra says.
“Oh, so you were watching my ass then.”
“Hey, Adora? Shut up.”
Adora only laughs. “I’m just teasing. Besides, a promise is a promise. Right?”
—
Ears ringing, Catra comes to slowly. Everything aches. Her vision is dark and blurry. Each breath feels like a knife in her side and the end of her tail sears with burning pain. Her whole body feels sluggish, each limb like a lead weight; a barrage of alarms in her brain screaming for her to move, to get up, that this is bad, are all drown out by heavy, painful static.
She doesn’t remember losing consciousness.
She wets her mouth, tastes blood, recalls a battle, an explosion, Adora—
Adora!
She jolts and almost black out again by the sudden agony in her chest.
Yep, that’s definitely a broken rib, she thinks. Or two. Or five.
As the pain settles - a high wail fading into a dull roar - everything else starts to come into focus. Most notably, the sound of something metal being crushed and broken. Catra follows the sound, sees the back of She-Ra standing on top of the large mechanical monstrosity that the Horde had sent.
She’s absolutely cleaving into the machine with her sword even though it clearly isn’t functioning anymore. Her heavy, wild swings are taken without thought, only speed and strength. There’s something desperate in her motions that Catra doesn’t understand.
“Adora?” she manages weakly.
She starts, stops mid-swing, sword raised high. When she turns, Catra almost flinches, pinned by an all-consuming fury. She-Ra’s eyes are a burning red and the lack of recognition in them sends genuine fear spiraling through Catra’s body. She shakes and trembles and pushes herself up, despite the pain, to sit against the wall. Every part of her instinct wants to run, but she this is much as she can move right now.
She’s cornered.
Then… She-Ra blinks, like she’s just waking up. Recognition shines in her eyes and the fury starts to fade from her face. She blinks again and her eyes are suddenly back to blue.
Not She-Ra blue either, but Adora blue.
“Catra?”
Adora rushes over, dropping her sword, but the visage of She-Ra doesn’t fade. It’s getting harder to separate the two, it seems, and Catra doesn’t like it. Not that she likes much at the moment, with how much pain she’s in.
She definitely likes the gentle way Adora cradles her with her arms, says “Sorry,” softly into her hair as she picks Catra up and starts carrying her.
“You saved me,” Adora says. Then she teases (softly, because everything is a little scary right now), “Even though you don’t like me.”
Catra snorts, wheezes. Everything hurts and laughing sucks, but she appreciates the levity. “Especially because I don’t like you.” Her heart aches and it’s not because of her ribs. It aches and it’s saying, because you love her.
“Yeah well, I don’t like you either, so I’m gonna have to ask you to stop putting yourself in danger. Because it’s super annoying always saving someone I don’t like.”
“Shut up,” Catra’s too weak to do any verbal jousting with Adora right now, and Adora knows that. It’s equal parts infuriating and heart-warming.
They walk for a while in silence, Catra slowly drifting off - not quite awake but not quite asleep.
“Catra,” Adora starts, voice tender and fragile.
“Don’t.”
Whatever emotional maelstrom Adora’s going through right now, Catra doesn’t have the energy to deal with it. She doesn’t want to think about what she’s done, doesn’t want Adora to get the wrong idea. And she especially doesn’t want to confront her own messy feelings about all of this.
“I—” Adora sounds like she might argue for a second, but then lets out a breath. “You’ll be okay.”
Catra can’t keep her tail from coiling around Adora’s arm. Maybe it’s just because She-Ra is so much bigger, but her tail feels a little short. Either that or— well she doesn’t want to think about the other option right now. “Duh,” she says, even though she feels like garbage that’s been put through the compactor and then lit on fire.
“Okay, smart ass.”
“Catra!” Scorpia’s voice is loud, yelling for her in the distance.
The rest of the squad must’ve been looking for her, Catra realizes.
“I’ll hand you off, okay. Just maybe tell them not to zap me?” Adora asks. “Because those shock batons aren’t very fun.”
“Yeah, I remember. You’re such a wimp.”
Footsteps turn the corner. Catra’s too tired to look, but she knows Adora—She-Ra—is face to face with her squad now.
“You!” Scorpia shouts. “What did you do?”
“Hey!” Adora says, indignant. “I didn’t do this! I’m just here to give her back.”
“You think I believe that you—”
“Scorpia,” Catra starts, wincing in Adora’s arms. She can’t really handle speaking at any volume, but especially not a loud one. “It’s fine.”
She can hear Scorpia approach cautiously, feels the hard chitin of Scorpia’s arms take her with an extreme tenderness. Her tail lingers on Adora’s wrist, hand, fingers, until she’s pulled too far away to reach her anymore.
“I think we’re all done fighting here,” Adora says, the implications of a mutual retreat clear in her voice.
“Yes, we are,” Scorpia answers. “For now.”
The glow from She-Ra is brighter than it was before. Catra only notices now that she’s not in her arms anymore. She-Ra turns and starts to walk away, clearly tense but willing to show her back anyway. Some of the others in the squad tense, but Scorpia shakes her head at them.
“Thank you.” Scorpia’s voice is sudden, soft but loud in the fragile silence. “This doesn’t change anything, but thank you.”
She-Ra, now standing still, gives Scorpia a look over her shoulder, nods, and then keeps walking.
—
Back in the Fright Zone, Catra winces as she sits up. She’s never been a fan of all the weird serums the Horde uses for healing injuries, they make her feel foggy and nauseous, but she supposes it’s one step up from having to be carried everywhere.
She’s already been chewed out by Hordak in his obnoxiously holier-than-thou way, so now all that’s left to do is rest up until the next mission. Which would be easier if she wasn’t having nightmares about Adora every time she closed her eyes.
Nightmares. More like memories she wants to forget.
She’d thought that turning her back on the promise would’ve broken things between them permanently. Ended things so distinctly that there was no coming back from it. But the feelings were still there, despite everything, weren’t they?
Catra slips out of her room, giving Scorpia a wave to let her know she isn’t going far, that she doesn’t need to be followed. She goes to the rooftop of one of the kitchens. A place she used to frequent with Adora when neither could sleep, staring up at the inky void of the night sky and drawing imaginary maps of all the places they could go if only they weren’t here, in the Fright Zone.
She isn’t sure what she’s going to find up there tonight. Loneliness and the bitter taste of old memories, she thinks.
What she actually finds is Adora.
“What are you doing here?” she hisses, and then reaches out, digging her claws into Adora’s wrist to make sure she’s not hallucinating.
(She’s not.)
Adora doesn’t even wince, just looks at Catra tenderly. Something about her looks so lost, so fragile, so soft, and Catra hates it. Adora was never like this in the Horde. (Inside her heart, she knows, Adora has never been more herself than she is right now.)
“I just…” Adora gently uncurls Catra’s cutting grip and takes the hand in her own. Catra allows it. “I just needed to know you were okay.”
“Why do you even care? Adora, why are you even here? I didn’t drop you off a cliff so you could keep chasing after me like some—some—some stupid idiot!” Catra tears her hand away, confusion boiling over into anger.
She gingerly climbs onto a vent, draws her knees up and wraps her tail around, scowling at the singed end that’s a couple inches shorter than it used to be. “I broke our promise for a reason.”
It’s not as harsh as she wanted it to be, coming out shaky and unsure.
“I know,” Adora says. She moves closer and leans against the vent, but doesn’t actually touch Catra.
It’s exactly the way Catra likes to be approached and Adora’s probably the only person that actually knows that. “Then why are you here, you moron? What’s stopping me from just reporting your presence to every soldier in the sector?”
Adora shrugs. “I’ve been a bad friend,” she says.
It isn’t an answer at all and only serves to rile up Catra even more. Her emotions are a mess thanks to everything - the war, the whole being enemies with her oldest friend thing, the near death experience, the resurfaced memories, the painkillers.
It’s mainly the painkillers, she thinks, so she doesn’t have to admit how much the other things affect her.
“Gee, what gave that away?” she says, wryly as possible.
Adora doesn’t bite though, doesn’t rise to Catra’s provocations. Instead, she continues with her frustrating honesty. “You broke our promise,” she says, voice soft but genuine. “But I broke it first, even though I didn’t mean to.” Her voice wobbles, breaks a little, breaks a little of Catra’s heart with it. “I’m so sorry, Catra.”
No. No. No. This is not happening. Catra squeezes her eyes shut. She will not cry in front of Adora right now. Adora is a traitor, Adora is her enemy. But her brain is foggy with drugs and the deep parts of her subconscious are still insisting that Adora is safe, that it’s okay to break down in front of her.
“Fuck you,” Catra growls, voice watery. “You don’t get to say that after everything. Not now.”
“Maybe not,” Adora agrees, shoulders slumped and looking utterly defeated. “But it still needed to be said. I gave up on you too easily. I took on the mantle of She-Ra to protect people, but the person I wanted to protect the most ended up being the one that got hurt the most because of my choice.”
It’s a lot. Too much even. Catra has no choice but to deflect, to push away the heavy emotions with sarcasm. “Kyle, right?”
“Ugh, you, you dipshit.”
She hears the laugh in Adora’s voice though, and her tail uncurls from over her feet to drape over Adora’s right shoulder.
For a moment, she just enjoys the night with Adora, pretending this is just another night from Before.
“I want this war to end,” Adora says. “But I don’t want this war to be the end of us.”
Catra shifts, uncomfortable. “I won’t leave the Horde.” Though she’s not sure if won’t or can’t is more accurate. She knows the Horde aren’t the good guys in this scenario, but at the end of the day, would her shitty life really be any different in the Rebellion than in the Horde? She doesn’t think so.
She’d have Adora, though. Maybe.
So her answer remains the same. For now.
“I know,” Adora says. As if she knows more than just what Catra is saying on the surface. “I miss you.”
I miss you, too, Catra thinks. “I should go,” she says. She needs rest, needs to prepare herself to be Adora’s enemy again tomorrow.
She slowly clambers off the vent, letting Adora help her down. She’s still in pretty rough shape, all things considered. They end up standing, face to face, hand in hand. Catra starts to pull away, but Adora squeezes her hands gently, let’s her know she wants to say something before they separate again.
“I want to make a new promise,” Adora says. “I, uh, know the last one didn’t work out so great, but, well….” She fumbles for words and Catra thinks about walking away, knows her heart couldn’t take it right now.
Instead, Catra arches an eyebrow at Adora. “Spit it out before I decide to just leave you here.”
“Whatever happens, we’ll always find each other again.”
A ridiculous sentiment, Catra thinks immediately, but the voice in her head sounds a bit too much like Shadow Weaver and so she instinctively rebels against it. Even if she stays with the Horde, even if she firmly believes that there’s a way to fix everything without defecting, without abandoning the only place she’s ever known with no chance of going back. Even if she has to face Adora as her enemy again and again and again, she will never become Shadow Weaver.
“And what if the Horde wins the war?” Catra asks.
They both know the Horde winning most likely means She-Ra’s death, and with her, Adora.
“Yes,” Adora still says. “Even then.”
There’s a charged silence, Catra watches Adora’s eyes dart down to her mouth and back up to her eyes. Catra knows what it means, knows she’s doing the same.
(“You promise?”
“I promise.”)
“You should go before the guard changes again,” Catra whispers.
She lets go, and it’s easy this time, because she knows one day her hand will find Adora’s again.
Besides, a promise is a promise.
…Right?
—
She remembers: as long as they’re together, nothing bad can happen. But they’re apart and everything sucks. And a large part of her is scared that nothing will change, that things won’t get better even if they’re together again. But she thinks of the new promise, how it warms her in a way that makes her want to break everything.
They’ll find each other again. Not just as enemies. She has to believe that.
Catra curls up on the foot of Scorpia’s bed and, for the first time, doesn’t feel messy and conflicted about it. Entrapta’s computers hum quietly on the other end of the room, a familiar sound that has Catra drifting off in moments. She sleeps peacefully.
aresmarked replied to your post: I know late on a sunday isn’t the best timing, but...
Them bundling up together because it’s the freezing north
Reports said that the horde was looking for something in the expansive tundra that was Princess Frosta's land. In truth, Catra was hoping to draw attention away from the horde's main target. What actually happens is that Adora tracks her down to deal with her personally, and they both get lost in a blizzard.
Adora follows Catra to shelter, a cave that's less a cave and more a tiny crevice in an icy shelf. There's no standing room and Adora, with her back pressed to the opposite wall, is almost hitting Catra in the chin with her knees.
"Ugh, this isn't enough space for both us! Why did you follow me in here?" Catra asks.
"Uh, because I don't want either of us to freeze to death?"
Catra growls, tempted to snap back. But she doesn't want to seem vulnerable or so easily provoked, even if it is by Adora (the only person she ever really trusted).
"Well, great," she grumbles.
"Good."
Adora crosses her arms against the cold and looks at the floor, Catra looks at the icy wall to her left. The blizzard outside is too bright to glare miserably at anyway.
The shelter doesn't do much to keep out the cold. It shields them from the biting wind and icy snow, but within seconds, Catra's shivering and so is Adora, judging by the way their legs keep bumping together from trembling.
Whatever fury Catra was storing inside is being eaten away by how freaking cold it is. She scowls, knowing what needs to be done but not wanting to do it.
"Adora--" she starts, just as she hears Adora mumble something.
Her ears don't pick it up over the howl of the wind outside, but suddenly there's a flash of golden light and the space she was sharing is just a little bit smaller than before.
"What are you doing?" Catra demands.
"I'm warmer like this," Adora (She-Ra?) says with a shrug.
Catra stares and she doesn't look away. The blue of her eyes are more like Adora's than not, which tells Catra… something. She's not sure what, just that sometimes - most times - Adora is not Adora when she's like this.
"What?" Adora asks, with a voice that reverbs unnaturally.
"Nothing," Catra scowls. She slouches and her tail flicks nervously before wrapping around her waist again, too cold to do anything else. She slips in between Adora's knees, tries to get used to how much bigger She-Ra is.
It's not that she's unfamiliar - she's fought and grappled with She-Ra many times - but this kind of familiar touch was reserved for the Adora before. It's different now.
Adora wraps her arms around Catra, rests her chin between her ears and sighs.
"Thanks," Adora says, as if Catra's the one providing the warmth.
