Chapter Text
Catra follows Adora out of the Heart, her thoughts racing, going as fast as her legs do. Adora is able to keep up, for once, no doubt thanks to She-Ra's unfairly long, muscular, powerful—
She needs to get a grip on herself.
The confession still rings in her ears, tears are still drying on her fur and she still feels Adora's limp form in her lap and arms. The shallow breathing. It is too much, too many things crammed in half an hour that felt like three hundred years. But they still have a job to do. There is no time to stop and deal with… feelings.
Oh, no.
What did she do? What did she say?
Catra doesn't let the conflicting thoughts get to her, they never have before. She can push them to the back of her mind, deal with the problem at hand—I love you I always have—and it's almost over anyway—you love me? I love you, too—the Heart is disabled, the magic will be released—and then? Then what?—Adora will save them all.
She glances at her, the light pouring out of her with the power she carries. Catra can't look at her too closely, but she sees the determination set in the sharp line of her jaw and the steel in her bright blue eyes. Eyes that turn to her when she notices the attention and go impossibly soft.
The blush, she can chalk it up to the merciless pace they both keep. The little, involuntary smile curling her lips is a little bit harder to explain. And Catra is still overwhelmed and confused and still reeling, but this right now—this weakening flutter in her stomach that somehow makes her more centered than she has been in a lifetime, this felt right—good. Catra doesn't have a lot of experience feeling good, and it's terrifying but she wants to dive headfirst into it.
Adora smiles back.
Catra is the first to look away, because she has to watch where she is stepping. Her graceful nature isn't so much being a cat as it is actually using common sense. Something Adora doesn't do very often. But they reach the valley, where the rest of the Princess Alliance still fights.
(And Adora didn't trip!)
(And neither did Catra! Which, considering recent events, is nothing short of a miracle.)
Adora halts, and so does Catra. She turns back on the glowing warrior, who stares at the scene before her with an unreadable expression, disbelief coloring her face underneath all the shine radiating from her.
"This—is real. Isn't it?" Her voice is a quiet, small thing. Unfitting the warrior's body she wears.
Adora looks down at her palms, blinking. She is spiraling, she just knows. So Catra takes her hands and squeezes as tight as she can. Adora turns to her.
"It's all real, Adora. You're here. It's real." Catra isn't a person for comfort, has never been. Words of affirmation don't come easily to her. But Adora was always an exception to all her laws and rules. "Everything is going to be okay. Nothing really bad can happen as long as we have each other, remember?"
Adora laughs, it comes out quiet and watery. "Together until the end of the world, wasn't it?"
She can't help but laugh right back and squeeze her hands tighter. "Hopefully, it won't come to that."
"Yeah, I should, uh... you know, make sure that doesn't happen."
"Yeah, probably." Everything tells her not to let go of Adora's hand, screams like a kid in the middle of a tantrum. But she does anyway, and takes a step back just to make sure. "You should... go do that."
Adora doesn't move at first, her hands fall limp at her sides. Then she cracks her knuckles. Not spiraling anymore, but still anxiety ridden.
Before she can ask, Adora says, "We're talking about it, right? What happened before."
Emotion surges up, all the way to her throat, clogging her airways. Her eyes sting a little, but it does not feel like a bad thing like it has been all her life. And she is nodding and wiping tears before they fall.
"After you stop the end of the world, we can."
Adora laughs again. "Ah, yes. I still have to do that. Don't worry, this is a piece of cake."
"Go get 'em," she breathes.
"Yeah… yeah."
Then she takes off running, a positive dorky grin on her face still. As if—as if there isn't an apocalypse she needs to stop out there. It is unbelievable how much Catra loves her. So, so ridiculously much.
The war ends with silence, and then light. Warmth. A sense of connection with the whole planet, with every last person and creature on it, all of them quiet as the sense of peace spreads. Even Catra who has never shown talent or any inclination to magic, feels the energy coursing her body from her bare feet to the ends of her hair.
She knows, then, that they've won.
What an unreal feeling. Winning. She's been fighting for it all of her life, it has meant different things during that time. Rule the Horde, rule Etheria, rule de world. Being on top somehow, above everyone else, above all danger. Untouchable, and unable to touch nothing at all. An empty, lonely life with no risk of being hurt anymore.
But maybe, maybe the risk was worth it after all.
Her eyes are still adapting to the new light. Partially blinded, she goes to the princesses and the rest of the rebels, hoping to find Adora. The new air full of energy, life, makes it difficult for her to find her distinctive smell. She'll have to get used to it, but she can't care as of right now.
Catra feels like she's walking on cotton, on the Bright Moon's beds Adora told her about, the kind that swallows you whole. Maybe it's not the horror story Adora intended to be. Maybe it isn't so bad.
Famous last words.
Honestly.
Honestly, Catra should know nothing is ever that easy.
"Catra!" Glimmer calls out to her, laughter dancing in her words.
She grins at her without meaning to, which the queen returns in kind from where she's at.
A man is with her, whom she supposes must be her father. Micah. He looks at her curiously. She has to swallow her uneasiness at his attention and has to will herself not to shrink on herself. Catra wonders briefly if he knows what she did, why his wife isn't among the celebrating people.
"Sparkles," she greets Glimmer when she is next to her.
This proves to be a tactical error on her part, because as soon as she is within reach, Glimmer flings herself on Catra. Her arms wrap securely around her shoulder and squeeze hard. Catra stiffens, then blinks before loosening her muscles and returning the hug. She can let it slide—today. With any luck, this euphoria might never end and she will let it slide everytime.
Micah smiles warmly at them. At Catra. She swallows hard and realizes that no, it will not last forever.
Glimmer pulls back, laughing a little. "Sorry 'bout that. Are you alright?"
Her eyes fill with tears and her mouth feels too full of emotions to properly answer. She nods.
A moment passes before she can ask, "You?" and even that is a little bit choked.
Glimmer punches her shoulder with no strength. "Don't tell me you're going soft on me, horde scum."
"You wish." She chuckles and turns her face. Leave it to Glimmer of all people to better her mood. "Have you seen Adora? I need to…"
She stops herself, unsure of where exactly she was going with that. She needs plenty of things right now. A bath, eight hours of sleep, hug Adora, know this isn't somehow an elaborate daydream of a desperate girl in what she thought were her last minutes of her life.
At least Glimmer is none the wiser to her string of thought. She only offers her hand. "Let's look for her."
She is already bracing herself for the accursed sickness she gets from the teleportation, but takes Glimmer's hand nonetheless and hopes that this isn't the thing that makes her hurl her guts up at last. That would be embarrassing.
At least they find Adora quickly enough, just blinking in and out of existence no more than a couple times. Also, it is very hard to miss the eight-foot tall, glowing warrior standing atop the outcropping, or the long, shiny ponytail waving at her back.
Catra tells herself the way her stomach turns itself inside out is because of Glimmer's magic. She hears Entrapta's manic cackle and then she has yet another reason for it.
She sees the princess, babbling excitedly about something. And then she sees the clone she's talking to and just knows that it can't be any other than Hordak. Her breath catches when his unseeing green eyes flicker to where she is and stay.
Catra scowls deeply after him, sending knifes with a glare she hasn't use on anybody but Shadow Weaver recently. The familiar taste of hatred burns her tongue. She won't let it out, not yet anyway—this isn't his moment. He won't take another thing from her.
So she turns to Adora, her back to them, and takes a moment to calm down—and to appreciate the stunning figure that is She-Ra, no one's ever accused her of being unable to multitask. Adora's shoulders are low and relaxed, even her posture loosens and if she didn't know better, she'd say Adora is slouching.
She laughs, then. Because when a war just ended and a terrible evil is defeated, the thing that just makes her laugh is Adora letting go of her perfect, rigid posture. Unbelievable. She laughs loud enough that Adora glances over her shoulder and beams when she sees her. And just like that, she doesn't care anymore about who sees or hears the emotions spilling from the laughter she breaks into.
Adora turns completely to her, her smile widens. Catra is nothing more than a moth drawn to the flame as she runs towards her and throws herself at her, arms wrapping around strong shoulders. Adora stumbles a step, but remains on her feet. Her hands hold her easily by the waist. And wow… okay, maybe that kills about all semblance of poise she's got.
Her face feels so hot when Adora lets go of her and gently sets her down, but she can't look away for the life of her or even let go. One of her hands slides down Adora's arm, the other lightly on her stomach. She's telling herself she doesn't move away because of the relief at, you know, just winning a war and having made it.
A chuckle on her right breaks her concentration—or lack thereof—and she turns to the origin of the sound, finding Glimmer with a shit-eating grin the size of a moon. Catra thinks she might just pass out if she says something about any of it. But she goes back to Adora, Adora who is looking down at her so warmly, with such a tenderness and she can't find any shame to feel. Not right now.
Catra beams.
"It's over," Adora utters, awe spills from the two short words. "It's all over."
Her eyes fill up with tears. "Good riddance."
It's all so much, she thinks. So many things happening at the same time, so unreal and yet Catra's never felt as grounded as she is now. The war… the—the everything is over and now there are… there are possibilities. Chances. She looks into Adora's eyes, her smile growing broader, and it's like the world is open wide for her. For them both.
Glimmer laughs to herself. Catra looks her way and scowls—no way she is going to blush—but the princess laughs again, covering her mouth with a hand. "Not to interrupt you guys, but I am ready to go home now."
Adora looks away, flustered and giggling. How can she be so perfe—Get it together!
"Yeah, you're right," Adora says, then looks down at Catra. She thinks she might get used to the softness Adora regards her with. "Let's go home."
"Yeah," she replies softly. "Let's."
Adora shines brighter and her body starts to reduce in size under Catra's touch. She closes her eyes to protect them from being blinded. It is a weird experience, feeling the shift. By the time, she thinks it ends, Adora is in front of her but the glow on her skin doesn't die out as much as it dims. She tilts her head to the side.
"Adora?"
"I—I'm—"
Her words end in a gasp as she stumbles forwards. Catra holds her upright by the waist. "Adora! What is it?"
Adora gapes. "I don't—"
Her skin glows again, a far cry of what it was just seconds ago. The light flickers, like a light bulb just before it burns out, faint outlines come in and out of existence. Then Adora falls forward and Catra goes with her because the weight of her suddenly multiplies. She tries to soothe the fall but her knees sink painfully in the grass.
"A-Adora, tell me what's going on."
But she only replies with screams. Painful, blood-curdling screams. And Catra starts shaking all over her body. Because this is Adora. Adora who has withstood the worst of her claws her whole life with little more than grunts, at worst.
Adora glows brighter again and turns into She-Ra. Her screams only grow louder. She grabs her by the shoulders and puts her on her back, but that seems to help little if not at all. She keeps on flickering between forms, sobbing with every swift shift. They happen so fast that Catra isn't sure where her body starts and hers end, like she can put her hands through her as though she is nothing. The terror grips her heart so tight she can't help but to grip Adora's shoulders just as hard, seeking some form of solidity and holding onto it, so Adora can't disappear into thin air.
"Please! Please, tell me what's wrong!" she shrieks, panicked tears gather in the corner of her eyes. She is half-aware of Glimmer and Entrapta coming to kneel on Adora's other side. "Go get help!"
Glimmer looks torn for about a second, looking between her and Adora before following her orders. Catra tries to reel her panic back in. Help is on the way and she needs to be useful, panic doesn't have a place here. But Adora's screams keep on breaking her resolve, eating it away like fire through powder.
She thinks she might be sobbing.
Entrapta pulls out a scanner from her pocket. Catra hisses before she can stop herself or before she really understands what is going on.
"I can't get a reading of her vital signs," she says quietly.
Catra feels like she can't breathe. Entrapta isn't nowhere near as scared as she is, but there is genuine worry coloring her face and her words. Bad sign. Bad, bad sign.
Adora's body convulses, the movement accompanied by her cries. She flickers between forms again. And Catra tries, tries to hold her down and make the worst a little better. But Adora still screams, still cries out.
"Please, please, stay still," she begs. "Tell me what's wrong."
She hates how much helplessness seeps into her voice. Calm down, calm down now. But she can't. It is happening again and she might lose her this time.
"H-Hurts… Catra…" she stammers despite her clenched jaw. She feels her muscles spam involuntarily. "I—I'm sorry…"
Her gaze is unfocused, unnervingly bright for the situation. She can't get a read out of them.
Catra swallows hard, moves a hand to Adora's face, her nails scrap lightly against her headpiece. "It's okay, everything is going to be okay. Help is on the way. Just don't move so it doesn't hurt, okay?"
"I'm sorry, Catra," she whispers.
A horrible thought occurs to her, then. She believed all of the poison from the First One's monster was healed when Adora transformed, that there wasn't a sign of infection. But what if Adora hadn't been okay? What if she only pretended she was and Catra didn't notice until it was too late?
Adora leans into the hand she still has on her cheek, visibly trembling, and stares at her in the eye. For a moment, despite all the pain and magic, Catra sees clarity in her.
"I'm sorry," she repeats and then not a second later, she drifts off.
The hill plunges into silence.
Until Catra replaces Adora's screams with her own. "No, no, no, no! Adora, wake up! Come back!"
She knows her hands search for life signs, that she is careless and leaves some claw marks and a little bit of blood behind. But she can't find anything.
Someone picks her up from behind. Strong arms wrap around her, keeping her own stuck to her sides, and lift her clean off the ground. Red chitin that can only belong to Scorpia comes into her vision field. She doesn't care.
"Let me go! Let go," she yells, her throat feels sore almost immediately.
Catra kicks and screams some more, scratches at Scorpia's pincers. Her claws are an attack away from breaking and she still doesn't care. She needs to get to Adora—she needs her. But Scorpia might as well be a fortress with all the damage she withstands.
She can do nothing. She can't get out of Scorpia's hold, and she can't help.
A sob wrecks her whole body and she squirms. "Please," she begs. "Let me go."
King Micah approaches Adora, kneeling besides her and drawing sigils in the air that he then pushes towards her chest. She doesn't get to see more as Castaspella kneels across from her, effectively blocking her sight.
Catra tries to twist in Scorpia's hold, but she only hurts herself on her exoskeleton, her movement will leave bruises all over her torso and arms, but she doesn't stop fighting. Scorpia knows that, knows that she will open her stomach wide on her pincers before staying still. So instead of letting her go, she pushes her onto the ground, restraining her. Catra has no chance against her massive weight and height, can't even rotate her wrists inside the tight grip of Scorpia's pincers.
"Hey, Catra, look. You need to let Micah and the healers do their job," Scorpia explains, she even puts her no nonsense tone on. "You have to calm down. You can't help if you attack the people who are trying to help already."
Even in being so stern, Scorpia is gentle. She can take advantage of it… She can… She can't even think right. And Scorpia won't let her go. And Catra can't stop moving and rising her head to see Adora's closed eyes and unmoving form. Her vision blurs.
"I can't lose her now, please," she begs again, as if Scorpia can miraculously fix it all.
Her eyes go wide. "Y-You won't, ok? You won't lose her, things will be fine. But they need to help her first and they can't do it if you attack them. First, you have to calm down. Think you can do that?"
No. Catra can't even picture what calm looks like, not with Adora unconscious—possibly dying on the grass a few feet away from her. She whimpers. Come on, get it together, you're a soldier, you push on, she orders herself. So she swallows the fear clogging her airways and she nods.
Scorpia stares at her for a moment before deciding she is telling the trust. "Alright, I'm letting you go now."
Catra swallows and nods again.
Scorpia follows through and gets off her. She is running the small distance Scorpia put between her and Adora. This time, however, she stops a respectful distance away, next to Bow and Glimmer. Glimmer wastes no time in holding onto her, even if she is holding Catra back just as much.
"What is happening?"
"Her vital signs are normal," a sorcerer tells her, reading Entrapta's scanner. "But there is too much magical energy in her body now. She-Ra is enough to withstand it, this is just a way to protect herself."
She doesn't understand what any of that means. Magic was released. Adora was a conduit, not a vessel. And the magic around them… she felt it. They are supposed to be celebrating. Things should be fine now, everything was fine a moment ago, Adora had been. Where did it all go so wrong?
Glimmer squeezes her upper arm and sniffles before sobering up. "What—what do we do now?"
"She seems stable now," her aunt tells them while she holds a bright sigil up in the air. "We can only watch over her and sees how she progresses."
Catra still shakes, still looks for some stability after the terror of thinking Adora could be—that she could have… and Glimmer's aunt is just there, speaking so calmly as if, as if… This is not okay, why can't anyone see that?
Glimmer squeezes her arm again, more forcefully this time. Maybe she feels the inevitable explosion just waiting to happen, the erratic way her breath comes in and out and the thrashing of her tail is proof she is an inch away from snapping.
She won't. She can't. She needs to be useful, and if she goes off, Scorpia will just subdue her again. That's not something she can afford.
"We can't leave her here," says Glimmer. "I can teletransport her—" she cuts herself off when her voice wavers, then starts again. "I'll take her to a tent."
Catra moves away from her. "N-No. No. No magic, we don't know how that'll mix. We have to carry her." She sniffles and wipes her face with the back of her hands, as if that can make her look more put-together, less of a wreck. "We need something sturdy to, to…"
"To move her," Scorpia finishes for her when words start to fail her.
This is basic first aid, all the training—or medical attention—you ever got back in the Horde. "Yes. The strongest of us can—we can carry her. The rest need to set up a tent for her or something. Shelter."
Glimmer nods at her. "You heard her, everyone!" she shouts at the assortment of princesses that gathered in that hill without Catra noticing. "I will find supplies. Scorpia, Bow and Sea Hawk stay to carry Adora. The rest of us set camp."
People set to work immediately. Good. Good…
Catra takes a deep, steadying breath and kneels next to Adora again, careful of not stepping on her ponytail. Maybe that'll wake her up, she thinks wryly, can't mess with the ponytail. And she wants to cry again. Instead, she takes a hand to Adora's cold and sweaty forehead. Her eyes move behind her eyelids, like she does when she has a nightmare.
"Come on," she urges, "you can't do this to me now."
Catra never asks for anything, she just takes it, does her damnedest to hold onto it. She never asks, she certainly doesn't beg. But she would kneel and put her forehead on the dirt if it made a different, if it helped.
"Please."
The next moments are nothing more than a blur for her. People come back with the things Glimmer requested, she then lets her take charge. At least she thinks so. She has the vaguest recollection of shouting orders. When Catra comes back to herself, her throat is sore and her hands are clenched into fists, claws digging into her palms. She doesn't remember why she is outside of an unknown tent or why she is glaring up at Scorpia—Scorpia of all people—like she will attack her.
A familiar enough scene, considering.
Someone pushes her back by the shoulder and gets between the two of them. Bow. She didn't hear him coming but then again, she can't hear much more than her own heartbeats. And she realizes it's unreasonable, but she hisses at him.
Bow backtracks a little, but holds his stance. "Catra, we are all just as worried as you are. Turning against each other will take us nowhere, alright? Scorpia is only trying to help, just as the rest of us."
Is she? Catra can't recall. Maybe she should feel more shame about it but quickly decides it's too much of a complex emotion. Adora, she is inside that tent, she's not okay and Catra isn't with her.
The healers and sorcerers are with her now, they can help. If Catra could, she'd be there too. She presses the heel of her hand into her eye and tries to breathe.
When Bow speaks again, his voice is softer. "Hey, things are going to turn out okay. She'll be okay, Adora always is." He tries to reach her shoulder, but she only hisses at him before he can touch her. "So please, let's not fight."
The tip of her ears point down and she lowers her eyes to his boots. "I didn't—I didn't mean to. I just—"
Nothing really bad can happen as long as we have each other.
Her eyes fill to the brim. Catra isn't with her, and even if she was, what good is she? What difference does it make? She never could protect Adora when it counted, she couldn't even make good on her promise when she absolutely had to. Just this time… She should have been able to tell Adora wasn't okay. And now she's there and she is here, and she is useless.
"I can't lose her now," she whispers.
This time she allows Bow to wrap her in a bone-crushing hug. There is no hiding how weak she's been, she still is, but she tries anyway as she buries her face in his chest and lets herself finally cry in earnest.
There is a fallen tree branch in the outskirts of their impromptu camp where Catra stands watch. It is behind Adora's tent. She hasn't left the spot in hours and the moon is setting again.
"You should eat something," Glimmer suggests.
Catra saw her coming, she almost smelled the worry emanating from her from across the camp and who it was directed at this time around.
Adora hasn't moved an inch since they put her in the bed Glimmer teleported in for her and she hasn't shifted out of her She-Ra form. So Catra doesn't move from her self-imposed guard, her ears alert that she can hear a pin drop.
"I'm fine."
Fatest lie to come out of her mouth, and she has said she hates Adora, constantly. Glimmer sighs.
"You're no help if you faint when you stand up."
Not that I will be of much help anyway. She growls. "Trust me, Sparkles, I've been worse."
In terms of self-care, sure. Catra spent days without sleeping or eating more than a bite of a ration bar. But the most challenging day as second-in-command can't compare with waiting. With not knowing.
She listens to the things the sorcerers say, but she can't understand a word. She takes to cursing Shadow Weaver's name up and down, betting she'd know what to do, what to say. An explanation. Something. Out of all times she had to go and die...
"What have you heard?" Glimmer asks.
She seems to have resigned herself to Catra not moving nor accepting her offer, so she sits by her side and hugs her knees to her chest in a way that makes her look smaller than she really is.
"Still out cold. They don't know why, but the current theory is that the Heart hurt Adora before she transformed and now her healing magic is fixing the damage. But she sounds like…"
Like she is dying. She can say it, she does, only chooses not to. But Adora sounds like she is minutes away from fading away. Her breathing is so fragile she can't always pick it up with the noise. Then there are the weak cries, the groans. She's been in a battlefield, she knows how dying people sound like.
"I feel so useless," she whispers.
Catra understands strategy, armies and logistics. This is outside of her comprehension, and worse, out of everyone else's as well. She-Ra is something that belongs to Adora and Adora only.
"I know what you mean." Glimmer sighs. "I don't want to stay here and do nothing. If it was any of us, she would have found a solution by now. It's unfair that we can't return the favor."
She copies Glimmer's position, pressing her legs close and setting her chin on her knees. Glimmer touches her shoulder. She has to fight off her instinct to flinch away from the touch. It feels like thousands of needles burying themselves under her skin.
"Catra, what happened when you found Adora? What really happened at the Heart?"
She tries to answer at first, but a bitter laugh comes out instead. She hasn't tasted one like this in quite a while, before Prime, she would dare to say. It is so familiar, easy to slip into. Like going back to her bed in her old Force Captain quarters. Cold and uncaring, but hers. Safe. Glimmer withdraws her hand.
"She was about to die," she tells her. "She was doing the thing she does, playing the hero. 'Cause who cares, right? Not her that's for fucking sure. She was poisoned and she couldn't transform, but she was going to go through it anyway, even if it killed her. I know she was afraid, and she told me to run away, but I—I couldn't—I wasn't about to leave her. And she managed in the end, she made it out on her own feet. You saw that, we all saw that. She looked fine. But she wasn't and no one noticed and she didn't say anything and now…"
Catra is breathing hard, like she's been running miles all day. The pressure in her chest and behind her eyes increase, they tell her to get up, to do something. But she can only cry so much, pace so much. She's completely spent on doing nothing at all.
She turns her face away. "And now she might be gone for good."
Her lower lip tremble violently and her chest spasms with unreleased sobs, but Catra is out of tears to let out, so she simply sits there, shivering from head to toe while the fucking Queen of Bright Moon watches. She is generous enough not to comment on it, at least.
They stay quiet for a long moment, until Glimmer speaks again.
"That is the panic talking," she says matter-of-factly, it is kinda obnoxious. "Adora is more stubborn than that. You really think she'll leave all of this mess we have to fix to us? She will rise from the dead just to kill herself at work. Have some little faith in her."
Catra snorts, then sniffles. "Sometimes I am really envious of you princesses. What does it feel like being sure things are going to go the way you want them to?"
Glimmer rolls her eyes, but smiles slightly.
"I wouldn't know."
The healers allowed someone to stay with Adora when they had to go check on other people, and once they determined Adora didn't need constant monitoring. Catra was the first and only one to volunteer—as if anyone would try to get in between them.
The only person who put up any kind of fight was the water princess, who leaned over Glimmer's shoulders to whisper, "Didn't she, like, try to kill her? Multiple times?"
In her defence, she didn't know Catra could hear her. She still turned to glare at her and a cringing Glimmer. "We can trust Catra," Glimmer said, putting up what Catra believed was her diplomatic voice. "She won't hurt Adora."
Mermista only scoffed. "If you say so."
Catra knows it was fair, so she swallowed her retort and resumed her watch, this time over Adora herself, without fighting with the princess whose kingdom she destroyed. They can get into that later, when Adora is not like this.
Adora who doesn't wake up that day, nor that night, nor the next dawn. She doesn't get up, kicking and screaming she is going to be late to training like she's prone to do. Catra amuses herself thinking about it, in seeing the almost maniac gleam in her eyes until she realizes that there is no training, there isn't any meeting to get late to. Adora would then sigh in relief and plop down onto bed again, happy to sleep in. Happy to rest without having to ask to.
The amusement never lasts, and it dies down when Catra dives into reality and remembers Adora still hasn't and she shows no signs of doing so soon.
She sits on the ground by the end of the bed, resting the back of her head on the mattress. Her back meets with the cool metal of the bed frame. Adora twitches and grunts. Falls silent. Her breathing is still the same.
Catra runs her hands down her face.
She might start crying again. Might have, if Entrapta wasn't coming in, so she braces herself and gets to her feet.
Entrapta has permission to come into the tent—a right only Glimmer, Bow, the healers and the sorcerers have—to check on the machines connected to Adora. That and only that. Catra makes sure of that as Adora's apparent personal guard.
"Oh, hi, Catra," Entrapta chirps. "You look considerably worse than what you did yesterday!"
She snorts. "Thanks."
"Have you slept at all?" she asks as she goes to look over at the machines.
"Some."
"Oh. I get that, I don't sleep that much either! I hadn't slept in a while until Scorpia made me some tea last night, it was very relaxing. I saved some samples to analyze them later today!" she cackles, which hurt her ears. "Maybe you can ask Scorpia to make you some if you have trouble sleeping."
She looks away. Not that a cup of tea could do the trick, but the thought of approaching Scorpia for it? She'd rather eat glass. She still doesn't remember why they got into an argument yesterday, but she remembers her face and the fear and the heartbreak and she can't really tell if that happened yesterday or before because it's all the same.
So no, she doesn't think she will ask for some tea.
Entrapta distracts herself by tinkling with the machine. Catra doesn't know exactly what she does to it, but she knows she's one of the people who can actually understand the things on it. "Fascinating," she murmurs, eyes glued to the screen that Catra learned monitors the levels of magic in Adora's body.
"Adora is not an experiment, Entrapta," she growls. It would be more intimidating if her voice wasn't so hoarse or if her eyes weren't still swollen.
Entrapta tries to tame the awe in her eyes, giving her a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention to make it sound like that."
"Whatever."
"I said it is fascinating because the amount of magic in her system doesn't correlate with her brain activity. And I have spent time analyzing enough data to know magic users usually use the planet's magic and manipulate it, but they don't really keep it, except for some special and complex spells. But Adora is holding onto it right now. There should be more brain activity than that, some part that is sending the chemical signals to order the body to do so, but her brain activity is one of those in a—"
Entrapta cuts herself off abruptly, which makes Catra scoff and cross her arms. "Coma. Her brain activity is like one of a person who is in a coma. You can say it."
"She's not brain dead, at least!"
She knows. She knows that those are not the same thing, but she's seen people die. She lost people because of it, squadmates, cadets when she became Force Captain. People who fell unconscious, and never woke up. It is hard to not picture Adora in one of the medbay beds, there and yet not.
"Of course, there are risks of her brain sustaining injuries the longer she spends like this, but she's been asleep for less than twenty-four hours!"
Catra can appreciate the honesty—and the weirdly genuine encouragement. Maybe it makes her feel better to know it is as factual as it gets. But she still wishes for another answer.
She shrugs. "I guess. We'll have to see."
"You're right!" she perks up. "Observation is a vital part of all scientific endeavors, almost as much as failure is!"
"You've said that before."
Entrapta gives her an odd look, Catra returns it. Neither speak. Uh…
"Anyway! The readings are continuing as normal, there doesn't seem to be anything out of place nor there seem to be any errors with the equipment! I'll check them again later. For now, you wouldn't believe how much tech is left lying around in the spires!" she squeals, her eyes going shiny. "I'll see you later, Catra!"
Entrapta leaves before she gets enough energy to tell her not to do something crazy. She wouldn't listen anyway.
Catra sighs and lets herself sit on the foot of Adora's bed, her unseeing eyes on her.
She can appreciate Entrapta's honesty, she really, really does. But a part of her still craves soothing words, craves someone to point at a positive outcome without the attached warnings and the tentative optimism of saying things might turn out fine, but they also might turn out so very wrong and you can't help it no matter how attentive you are.
She doesn't deserve any of it, though, the peace of knowing it is going to be over and it's going to be okay, eventually. But Adora doesn't deserve this ending, not after giving so much.
Catra doesn't know who is in charge of these things, who gets to decide what punishment and rewards each one earns. She almost wants to believe there is such a person, the next she wants to believe they are just. Because Adora, she is good. Good like no one they grew up with is or will be. So whoever decided this is where her fate leads, if there is someone like that, they are not fair.
If it was Catra, Adora would be fine. She'd be celebrating the peace she worked so hard for. She wouldn't have her like this just to punish her. Because this is what it is, another option just doesn't make sense. What better way to make her pay for all the things she took away from the people of Etheria than to take everything from her? Catra can endure a thousand Hordaks and a million Shadow Weavers, she would if it meant Adora would be okay.
Did you know it is a tradition to wish upon shooting stars? Bow said once while they were still in space.
Catra doesn't see any that night, but she still makes a wish anyway.
Adora wakes up three whole days later.
She hasn't put a foot outside the tent since then, isn't planning on it either. Glimmer begs her to go stretch her legs and for Etheria's sake, eat something. The uncomfortable ottoman she brought her the second day already has an impression of her and her three predilect positions: sitting straight, slouching and curled on herself when she pretends she sleeps at night. And she still stretches her legs plenty when she feels like she can't take any more of it and starts pacing, or when she sits next to Adora and stares at her like she can will her into wakefulness.
It has yet to work.
Bow and Glimmer pop in as much as they can, considering the disarray that is going on outside constantly. There are talks between the princesses, discussions of what now? Catra can't spare the mental power to follow. She is aware they are not moving until Adora wakes up, but that's about it.
Adora's best friends always bring her food. Catra makes herself eat it even if she doesn't want to. They don't bother her for more than that and she doesn't hiss as much.
So of course, when Adora wakes up, she is taken by surprise.
She is sitting on the ground by the end of the bed again when the cries begin, the twitches. Like she is having a nightmare—like she is in pain. These moments are common, they are tortuous and they feel like the stretch for hours, but they are normal now. So Catra hides her face on her knees and waits it out.
Only, it doesn't pass. It gets worse.
Adora starts groaning, louder than she has before, and trashes around. She feels the vibration of the bedframe hit her back.
" Fuck ."
She's up in a moment. Adora moves around, clutching the thin cover to her chest and frowning. She mumbles under her breath, words Catra can't make out. Her hands hover awkwardly over her body, unsure what to do with what she has.
"G-Glimmer! Bow!" she calls out.
Adora breathes in and out erratically in a way that is awfully alike to when she usually has a nightmare. She whines lowly and turns to her side. Catra has to hold her down by her armored shoulders to prevent her from falling.
"Adora. Adora, hey, it's okay. Can you hear me? It's okay, you're okay."
Glimmer opens the tent flaps, a wide-eyed look on her face. Bow next to her looks just the same. She is about to say something when a blinding light takes her by surprise and then the armor disappears, leaving behind soft fabric under her hands. The movements still.
She feels rooted to the ground as she watches Adora. Adora in her red Horde jacket, not an injury in sight, looking so peaceful it scares her.
Catra can't even move her hand to her neck, to check for her pulse.
Because Adora is not moving anymore, the crease of her brow fades.
And she can't tell whether she is breathing.
"Is she—"
Adora gasps.
She breathes in and out.
She doesn't stop breathing.
"Oh. Stars ."
Catra might have fallen in a heap of boneless relief if she wasn't supporting herself on the mattress. Her claws sink deep, holding onto it like it is the last vestige of her sanity.
"Catra?"
All of her fur comes to stand on end as she looks up, her heart up in her throat.
Blue-gray eyes stare up at her.
She has all of one second to feel relieved, to smile down at her.
The next, Adora lunges at her.
They both go down to the ground, Adora above her. Her hands come to wrap around her neck. She scowls down at her with her teeth bared.
"What did you do?"