Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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"Is this Catherine Applesauce?" Catra frowned at the phone. "Um, yes, but can I ask who's calling?" The voice on the other line shifted as if they were sitting in a chair. "My apologies. I'm Lieutenant Colonel Hope. But you can call me Mara," Catra ignored the way her heart skipped a beat. "What can I do for you then, Mara?" She asked instead, oozing fake confidence. Mara cleared her throat softly. "I'm calling on behalf of Private Adora Greyskull,"

Catra swallowed thickly. "Yeah, I know Adora," She sat against the desk in her room. "Is-is she ok?" Catra asked softly. "She will be yes," Mara answered. "However, she has listed you as her next of kin," Catra frowned. "What does that mean?" She asked. Mara sighed slightly. "Generally, a next of kin makes medical and other decisions when the person cannot,"

Catra's heart thumped in her chest. "Adora was injured in service, and will likely need a new kidney. The hospital will try and fix it, but it's relatively likely that she'll need a new one within the year. We just need your permission, as her next of kin, to authorise it," Catra suddenly felt very angry. How dare Adora force her to make these decisions? She debated hissing into the mobile and throwing it against the wall. "Sure, whatever," She said instead. Mara audibly hesitated, even through the phone. "So, we have your permission to give her a new kidney? It is an operation, you understand?" Mara pressed. Catra scoffed bitterly. "Look, Macy-"

"Mara," She interrupted. "Whatever. Adora and I haven't spoken in over six months. So I don't know why she's put me as her king or whatever," Catra began to pick at her nails. "But I don't wanna be it. I don't wanna be responsible for fixing her fuck ups," She said. Mara shuffled over the line. "We can arrange for her next of kin to be defaulted to a commanding officer. In this case, it'll be Colonel Hope Light or myself," Catra shrugged before realising Mara couldn't see her. "Sure, whatever. I just don't wanna be it,"

She hung up the call before Mara could speak any further.

Adora loved fighting. A strange thing, sure. But when she was on the battlefield, she was just a soldier. Not a delicate woman, or a glass vase. She was a valued soldier who was protecting her country.

She was an equal.

The apparent 1st part of the war was fought when she was a baby. Both her parents were military fighters. Her dad, Randor, was a General in the Etherian army, and her mom, Marlena, was in the Air Force as a Captain fighter pilot. Adora and her twin brother were born on the Crimson base, making them army brats. Marlena and Randor sent them away to their grandmother's, Razz, back in the Whispering Woods precinct when they were only two months old; barely out of the hospital's ICU. Marlena and Randor died when Adora and Adam were three months old. Razz died shortly after when they were five months old. Adora was sent to Shiela Weaver's all-girls home, whereas Adam was sent to Orko's home for boys.

To cut a long story short, Adam joined the Air Force, just like their mom did, at sixteen. Adora refused, point blank.

At least until Adam was shot down somewhere over the Salinean Sea a few weeks before their seventeenth. Fueled by rage and grief, Adora joined the army. She was placed under Marabelle (Mara) Hope's battalion in the military. There, Adora quickly climbed the ranks, being ruthless in her training and attacks. When she was little, Sheila had let her watch a show called He-Man, and Adora discovered Adam did too. They wrote about being He-Man and She-Ra. Adam's call sign was He-Man. Adora's was She-Ra.

It took a while for her to garner respect within her troops. Many of them blamed her parent's reputations for her rapidly growing collection of titles. In one particular incident, they were training with arrows and climbing high and steep poles. She, along with two other women, and one guy, were the only ones who were able to reach the arrow at the top of the thirty-five-foot pole.

Somewhen around her twentieth birthday, they were out on a simple scouting mission. "They" being her, Lieutenant Colonel Mara and Colonel Hope. Mara held control of four hundred, Hope had seven-fifty and Adora, as a Captain, had one-fifty.

She walked at the back, keeping an eye on the rear. Mara was in the middle, while Hope took the helm. Adora kept to her own thoughts, sometimes chirping in when her troops asked her questions or involved her in their conversations, but otherwise was silent. They walked through the Arxian mountain range which Adora hated. The mountains were famous for traitorous weather and unpredictable avalanches.

It was also where Adam was shot down.

The battalion trudged through, as silently as possible. Adora listened to the mountains.

It was quiet.

Far... too quiet. She designated the rear to a nearby troop, Wesley Horde (or WH) and jogged on to meet Mara in the middle. "Hey, you ok?" She asked quietly. Adora shook her head, "Listen," She whispered. Mara stopped walking, waving for her troop to continue and listened to the mountains. "I don't hear anything," She frowned. Adora grimaced, "Exactly. It's way too quiet for mountains." She whispered. "You think it's an ambush?" She asked back. Adora sighed quietly. "Maybe? I don't know... it's just far too quiet... and I don't like it," She bit her lip. "Go let Hope know... see what she wants to do. I'll keep an eye out,"

She nodded briefly and jogged on ahead again, meeting Hope. "What are you doing here? You should be at the rear," She scolded. "If I may, Colonel, as I just said to Mara, it's way too quiet. Something's wrong. I think we're walking into an attack or ambush." She said quietly. Hope glanced around briefly before scoffing, "I know these mountains like the back of my hand. We're fine, go back to the rear, and don't move," She snapped. Adora bit back her scathing remark, bowed her head and dropped back to the rear.

She looked around, trying to find something out of the ordinary. Her skin itched and she turned in her stride. Someone was watching her. She stared at a rock in particular and focused on listening.

Distantly, almost silently, she heard a gun cock. Adora spun and flicked over the troops. Not one person had their gun out. She scanned the mountains again. Had she looked in a different direction, she'd have missed the moving rock.

Wait... moving rock?

Another gun cocked.

"Ambush!" She yelled. A sudden barrage of bullets shot from the sky. Hope yelled from the front. Mara darted to the left, while Adora darted to the right. She glanced around. "Anyone hurt?" She asked. The group checked themselves over and shook their heads. "No, we're ok,"

She looked across the green ground to where Mara was hiding. "We can't hide forever!" She yelled. "Wait for Hope's signal!" She yelled back. Whilst it was the correct decision to await the most senior person's call in an attack, Mara (and Adora for that matter) were well within their rights to command an attack of their own. Adora looked at Hope, who had hidden a little ways past her. "It doesn't look like a large army! We can take them! Who has the snipers!?"

Adora looked at the group behind. "Anybody?" She asked. Twenty-five raised their hands. "I have twenty-five!" She yelled. "I have the other fifteen!" Mara yelled. "Take out their gunmen!" Hope yelled. Adora spun and faced them. "Are you ready? Aim at anything that moves up in the mountains, don't hesitate. Got it?" She said. The snipers nodded and crawled out of their hiding spot. Adora crouched to the side of the rock, out of sight from the enemy, but able to see what was going on. "On my mark!" She yelled. More guns were cocked and readied. "NOW!" She yelled.

A barrage of bullets shot from their hiding hole, followed quickly by Mara's snipers. They whizzed through the air, making their targets fall into the grass, or roll down the hillside.

"HOLD!" Hope shouted. Adora held her hand up and her snipers stopped.

Hope whistled and everyone jogged over. Like they did two years ago, the enemy appeared at the top of a hill. It was easily three enemies to a soldier. Adora cringed. Not everybody was going to come out of this alive. "If we die, we die with honour. Kill every enemy you see. No mercy," Hope locked eyes with everyone, including Adora. The blonde nodded, readying her gun and tapping the dagger she kept in her boot.

She exchanged a quick look with Mara.

"CHARGE!"

Despite probably running to her death, Adora felt a grin split her face as the wind rushed through her hair. There was a certain freedom to this: being able to fight for her country.

The enemy ran at them, shouting and shooting. She slid on her leg, ducking a swing from a dagger-wielding soldier. She rolled into a fighting stance, swinging at his ankle. He roared and dropped to the ground. The group shouted behind her and began slicing the enemy down, one by one. Three soldiers were behind her, daggers held up menacingly, already dripping with blood. "You are fighting pointlessly. You will fail," One of them sneered. Adora didn't answer. She readied her dagger and blew some hair out of her face. She twiddled it in her hands.

With a shout, Adora spun her dagger in a circle and sliced out at their hands. They jumped back with a shout. She swung it at the soldier to her left. He yelled loudly and dropped to the ground. She twisted it through his arm and slashed across his midsection. She yanked it out and flicked the blood off. The middle one charged at her, his dagger raised just as the other one on her right ran. She ducked into a roll and sliced at their ankles. They dropped down, shouting and swearing. She stabbed them in their stomachs, panting slightly. She scanned to see if anybody needed urgent help.

Mara's shout drew Adora's attention to her leader, Hope. She ran over and brandished her dagger, swinging at the largest soldier she'd seen. Seriously. She thought there was a weight limit when being in the army.

Apparently, that wasn't received on the opposing side.

The enemy crashed to the ground as her fist made contact with his skull. Hope scampered out, screaming commands to the remaining fighters of the Etherian army, leaving her battling with the giant. She glared into his green eyes. He pulled a sword from his belt. He swung at her small form. Adora groaned as she strained against his sword with her tiny dagger, but held. She kicked upwards and into his man area.

He dropped down, hissing. Adora rolled into a crouching stance. She spun at his feet, slicing them with her dagger. The enemy dropped to the ground, yelling, but swung at her head. She ducked and thrust it into his thigh. It dug into the ground behind him, pinning him. He roared and gave one final swing at her leg. Blinding pain erupted from it, freezing her brain and turning her spin cold. She screamed, grabbing the wound tightly. Blood leaked from between her fingers.

Adora yelled out in frustration, yanking out her dagger. She clambered onto his body and pushed it through his throat, killing him instantly. Adora knew she wouldn't get it back... not that she'd try. That was fine... she didn't really like the dagger anyway.

She slipped off of his body, panting on the ground and looked around. Hope was fighting strong, and Mara was winning against four enemies. The pain made itself known, staining the green ground a horrible red colour. Her leg felt cold, but also hot. Way too hot. Adora blinked the spots away from her vision, glancing down. All she could see was the blood slowly seeping out from the massive gash somewhere around her knee.

Her vision began to turn grey as everything around her faded.

Catra walked out of her final class of the day, groaning at the sun. Despite not having drunk in over twelve hours, she was still very much feeling the alcohol from the night before. She slid on her sunglasses and pulled out her phone. Scorpia had called her a few times and texted at least double, Leona (or Lonnie, as she was called) had texted her a few times as well, which was odd. Lonnie was a girl she and Adora had grown up with in Sheila’s home for girls. Catra never really got along with Lonnie, but Adora did.

And what Adora wanted, Adora got.

Despite being an army brat, and being raised by a woman who loathed war, Adora was the favourite in the home. Her blonde hair, stuffed into wonky pigtails with her soft blue eyes and gap-toothed grin won everyone over. Catra shook the bitter thoughts away. She hadn’t seen Adora since October 18th, 2118… over three years ago. Why, you may wonder?

Catra had begged Adora to not join the army, to run away with her and live a life away from Horde City. But no. Adora had to flex her hero complex and avenge her family’s deaths or whatever. Catra had sworn to herself that if Adora joined, she’d never speak to her again.

And she hadn’t.

It was now January 10th, 2121, and she hadn’t exchanged a single word. Despite the blonde girl trying via phone calls, emails, letters, texts and even audio notes, Catra had remained stubborn. Adora finally got the idea around six months into her service… also around the time of her new kidney.

Vaguely, Catra wondered how she was doing with the kidney. But then she shook the thought away. Catra took a sip of her coffee and began to look through the messages.

Scorpia - 09:38: How are you, Wildcat? Last night was wild. Hope the hangover isn’t too bad.
Scorpia - 09:40: Have you got art class today? Let me know, bc my break might start around yours.
Scorpia - 10:19: Did I upset you? Nah. If you find me, I owe you coffee.
Scorpia - 11:18: Wildcat, please answer me. There’s something online, and you don’t wanna see it.
Scorpia - 11:20: Catra, please don’t look online. Find me.

Lonnie - 11:13: Hi bitch. Have u seen the news?
Lonnie - 11:24: Scorpia wants me to warn you bc ure not answering her.
Lonnie - 11:26: Srsly, Catra, it’s about Adora. U rnt gonna wanna read it.

Catra blinked furiously at the pad, immediately doing what the two women had advised her against. Unaware of where she was walking, Catra bumped into someone. “Hey, watch where you’re going, dipshit!” She spat, flicking coffee off of her hand. “I’m so sorry!” The voice said back. Catra gasped highly, yanking off her glasses. “Well, fuck me sideways,” She paused. “Hi, Adora,"

Chapter Text

Catra didn't like to take pride in making people uncomfortable, but sometimes, she did. People were usually put off by her eyes and wild hair. To be fair, at certain times of the day, she did look like a druggie. She was a rare blessed person, according to her therapist at least, because she had heterochromia. Her left eye was hazel but looked more golden, and her right was a bright blue. At night they were brighter. Coupled with the curly hair that worsened if she attempted to brush it, she looked like the full ticket.

There were only three people who didn't freak out immediately. Her therapist, Ella (but she went by Spinnerella for some reason Catra couldn't be bothered to remember), Scarlet (who went by Scorpia) and Adora.

Yet, the second Adora's blue/grey eyes met Catra's, she flinched backwards and away from her. Despite the urge to be hurt by the action, Catra allowed it. They hadn't exactly left on the best of terms when Adora enlisted three years ago, and Catra had refused to speak to her in those long years. Raising an eyebrow, Catra allowed her eyes to rake over Adora's body as the blonde stuttered some shitty story, not that Catra was really listening.

Adora looked... different, but at the same time, she didn't. She was still taller than Catra, she still wore her hair in its signature ponytail with the stupid poof, and her eyes were still blue. She was skinnier as well, but more muscular in her arms. Not that Catra was looking at her biceps. Her ribs seemed to poke through her white compression shirt (another signature of hers), but that could've just been shadowing to be fair. Her eyes, while bright and blue still, were sunken along with her cheeks.

Catra didn't really know how to feel.

Instead, she cocked her hip with a disinterested sigh. "What do you want, Adora? Why are you here?" Adora's stuttering stopped as she shifted slightly, breath catching in her throat. Adora was usually pretty composed, so Catra was somewhat taken off guard. "Um, I-I think I have a class here?" Catra narrowed her eyes. "Well, you either do or don't. What is it?" She held her hands up. "Wait, rewind. Why are you here? Aren't you still in service?" She paused. "I thought contracts lasted a minimum of eight years," Adora shifted again, moving more of her weight onto her left side. "Yeah, technically I am," She said. She tugged the strap of her rucksack, tightening it against her back. Catra shrugged. "Then why are you here? Have you deserted or some shit?" She idly pulled out her phone and texted both Lonnie and Scorpia back.

Nvmd, already seen the news in person. Talk later.

"-dishonourable discharge or medical discharge," Catra blinked. "So... what are you?" She asked. Adora shifted uneasily, different from the first two times. "Um... I was medically discharged from active service... but I still have five years of my contract, so I'll probably get a desk job or some shit," Catra rolled her eyes, only slightly worried that Adora (possibly the MOST robust person she knew) was medically discharged. "Wow, I knew you never lasted long, but three years outta eight? That's not even half,"

Sure, the first part of the sentence was a jibe, but the second half was a bit too far - even Catra knew that. Adora knew it too, judging by the sour twist on her face. "Look, I'm not here to fight, Catra. I can only afford college because of the army. So, give me a break, ok?" She snapped. Catra bit back her scathing remark about loans and sex, one that would've made more sense in time. "Look, do you know where these places are?" Adora showed her a notepad. "What's this? Don't you have a phone?" Catra turned her nose up. Adora sucked her teeth. "Obviously not,"

Catra looked at the two rooms listed. "That's reception, the big blue craphouse over there," She pointed vaguely. "And this is Etherian Towers. I'm there, so I can show you," Adora nodded and took back the pad. "Thanks," She said.

Catra learned, granted a week later, that Adora's dorm was in Etherian Towers. On the same floor as hers. In the same hallway as hers. In the same dorm as hers.

Sharing a wall with HER.

At least Catra was on the end of the block, so it was just outside to her other wall. In that week, she'd grown to know an awful lot about her former best friend. Catra didn't have the best sleep schedule to be fair. She'd always been a night owl, so more often than not, she'd be in the shared common room for her dorm and eat cereal while watching trash TV. Her dorm was one of the higher rent ones, so it was only a few of them who lived on the top floor. Catra, Scorpia, a guy called Archer (or Bow) (and more often than not, his girlfriend Glenda (Glimmer) as she insisted) and now, Adora. Previously, it was Catra's friend Toby, who went by Double Trouble. But they moved away to some luxurious college somewhere out near the Crimson Waste with their boyfriend.

Scorpia was in bed by ten, lights off by eleven and awake by nine. Bow was a little like Catra and just kinda slept when he needed to, usually by eleven thirty. Adora? Fucking weirdo. She'd be in bed by eight on the dot, lights off by nine, and awake by six. On one occasion, Catra had fallen asleep in the common area but was woken up just after six when somebody shuffled into the kitchen. As she twisted on the couch, she caught sight of blonde hair in a ponytail.

She feigned sleep, watching curiously through slitted lids. Adora shuffled slowly, leaning on the countertops as she moved, wincing when she raised her left hand above her shoulder, and using a... crutch? Nah. Catra rubbed her eyes. Only people who'd broken bones used crutches. Catra rolled her eyes to herself and twisted back into the couch, shutting her eyes.

A few other times made Catra question just how much she really knew about the blonde vet.

Like.

On the evenings when Catra was chilling in her room while the others did various assignments, or fucked in the bathroom if you were Bow and Glimmer, she'd hear strange noises from the paper-thin wall separating her from Adora. Not pain-filled noises either. Catra would pause in whatever she was doing and press her ear close. From the other side, she could guess, that Adora was hooking up with someone.

Multiple someones as well. At least one person a day. Maybe she was experimenting? Catra was lesbian, so she totally ogled the frazzled women leaving her roommate's room. Sometimes it'd be so quiet, that Catra would crack open the door to make sure Adora hadn't orgasmed to death or orgasmed some poor woman to death, but no. They'd be asleep, stark bollock naked, on the ground usually.

Not that Catra could comment. She'd had her fair share of various women in her first year of college. And both Scorpia and Bow were in committed relationships, so it'd make sense for the two girls to experiment with their own love lives too.

Another thing she'd noticed, and probably half the fucking house as well, was the nightmares. Ok, they weren't that loud, but they were loud enough to wake Catra from her sleep. Usually, it'd be Adora shouting one word: Mara, Hope, No(which were common as fuck) or some rando's name that Catra could never make out. Then something would scramble against the wall, probably the bed as she got up, followed by uneven movement. Like she was skipping a step and hopping instead.

Weird coping mechanism, but whatever. As long as Catra got the majority of her sleep, she'd make do. She hated Adora for leaving and joining the army as if it hadn't taken her parents and twin brother, but she wasn't cruel enough to make her feel shitty about her nightmares that woke Catra up every night around 11 am, then 4 am, and sometimes at 6, sometimes not. Sometimes, Catra would be up in the common room from as early as 3 am, having been partly woken by Adora's nightmares and Glimmer's walk of shame out and her own nightmares.

Around two weeks after Adora had moved in, Catra began to dig a little. On one of those 3 am getups, she was nursing a cup of coffee and watching some shitty horror film playing when Adora surfaced from her room. Instead of her hair being neatly in a ponytail, it was splayed out like a lion's mane. Catra couldn't tell for certain, but she would've bet her precious cup of coffee that Adora was using a crutch.

And that her pyjama pants looked suspiciously thin on her right leg.

Yet, the following day, both pant legs were full with legs again.

Chapter Text

A few weeks later brought Christmas round. Most of Catra's class were fucking off back home to the obligatory festive dinner or going skiing in the Kingdom of Snows. Scorpia was going to Petunia (Perfuma)'s family back in Plumeria, a forestry kind of place just outside of the Whispering Woods precinct for the first time. They'd been a couple since Easter of first year, so just over a year and a half together. Scorpia's moms were travelling for work over Christmas, so they agreed to meet Perfuma's parents. Bow was heading home to the Whispering Woods, and Glimmer was off to her mom's in Bright Moon.

That just left Catra and Adora in the dorms. Sure, there were a few stragglers, but most of them were going home or staying with friends. Catra, and Adora for that matter, were both orphans as far as she knew. Well, Catra knew Adora was an orphan. She'd read Randor and Marlena's names on the military war stone just outside of Bright Moon castle. She also knew both of them were only children, Randor's parents having died when he was young, and Marlena's mom, Razz, died when Adora was a few months old.

Catra also remembered having to nurse Adora through the rough and unforgiving clutches of grief when her twin brother was shot down in service a little under three years ago.

Catra assumed she was an orphan: why wouldn't you if you were in an orphanage? So she had nobody to go home to, and neither did Adora. Which left her with the awkward task of trying to maintain civility in the dorm. Catra graduated in the June, but Adora was only in her first year, which meant once June hit, Catra was done. Done with her and done with Eternia Univeristy. She'd be pissing off to the hometown of her grandmother, Half Moon. It was small enough to not have an airport but large enough to have an architecture company, one that'd already offered her a job upon graduation.

Why were things awkward between her and Adora?

Simple.

Catra hated war.

She asked Adora not to join the army.

She begged Adora not to enlist.

She pleaded with Adora to stay at home with her in Fright Zone City.

Adora enlisted in August.

She told Catra on September tenth.

She shipped out on September eighteenth.

She didn’t come home for three years, one month and fifteen days.

Catra glanced to the side of the couch, feeling her anger slip away. Adora was watching some crappy sports coverage on the tv, curled up underneath some knitted red blanket. Key word being was. She was dozing softly, head resting on the armrest. Catra couldn’t break her gaze as she continued to brood. It’s not that Adora didn’t try to reach her. She’d tried calling, then texting, then Whatsapping her, then social media messaging (granted not for long, but even so), then emailing and finally letters.

Catra had read her letters and emails and texts, but never answered them.

Cruel? Yes. Necessary? Also yes.

Look, everything Adora wanted, she got. She was the only one in Sheila’s home who was allowed to watch TV on the big screen once she’d finished her chores and homework. When Lonnie finished her homework and chores, she’d be granted early bed - which meant she could watch some crappy show on her phone, so long as it was pre-approved by Sheila. When Catra finished her homework and chores, she was only given the chores Lonnie and Adora had failed to do properly. If Adora wanted to visit Adam, Sheila would take her.

If Catra or Lonnie wanted to go to the library, she’d snarl at them and throw them a five-dollar bill to split for the bus fare.

Adora’s letters and emails were usually the same. Blathering on about how much she missed her and life back in FZ City, a few jokes about fighting for her life more in the canteen line than the real battlefield, a couple of pictures of her with her squad, maybe a sly video of her taking the piss out of some woman named Marabelle, who would then proceed to chase Adora to the barracks threatening lavatory duty, then the both of them get caught by some woman called Hope, who’d glare at them both and cut the camera.

Catra tried to make her lip curl at the sight of the blonde vet asleep under the red blanket, but she couldn’t muster the hatred. Instead, she turned her rage to Reddit and got ready to argue with grown men.

In hindsight, Catra should’ve known something was wrong. She’d picked up more work over the Christmas break, in at the club as a bartender from nine at night to three in the morning, come home and nap until midday, then work in a cafe from one till six from Thursday until Sunday.

When she wasn’t working, she was sleeping or showering. So she didn’t really notice the distinct lack of one Adora over the course of seven days. Catra, granted was away pretty much from two on Thursday to nine am on Monday. But in the days she was there, she’d seen Adora twice, if that. Both times she looked unwell. Maybe she’d picked up a bug? Catra passed it off for the first week. But the car she’d driven to college with wasn’t there when she left for work on the second Friday and didn’t return until sometime between two and six on the Sunday.

After Christmas Day had passed, the club reduced her hours to nine to one instead, so Catra was back in her dorm more. She liked being alone, usually. She could lounge around in her underwear, eat what she wanted, watch what she wanted, sleep when she wanted, and have sex whenever she wanted. It was great. But the problem was she wasn’t alone.

She had a roommate.

And that roommate just so happened to be her former best friend.

Sure, they’d seen each other naked before. Jesus, they’d showered together so Sheila didn’t make the water cold for Catra. They’d also slept in the same bed together, Christ, they’d helped bandage up so many wounds caused by assholes at school or Sheila’s own hands.

She cast another look down the hall to the room next to hers. Catra knew she should check on Adora, make sure she hadn’t died in her sleep or some shit, but she was still so angry with her. Sighing angrily, she pulled out her phone.

Me - 10:38: I’m in a dilemma and I need your help.

Lonnie - 10:40: What?

Me - 10:40: Remember Adora? The bitch that left me?

Lonnie - 10:42: Yh, obviously. Y?

Me - 10:42: Right, well, she’s in my dorm, yeah? But she’s
not actually left her room, from what I’ve seen, in at least
three days.

Lonnie - 10:43: Wait, she’s in ure dorm? LMAO

Me - 10:43: Leonora.

Lonnie - 10:43: I will stab you.

Me - 10:43: Uh huh.

Lonnie - 10:45: Don’t be a pussy. Knock on her door then.
Adora’s Adora. Three years wouldn’t’ve changed much.
She wouldn’t hurt you… unfortunately.

Me - 10:45: No, like she’s being really weird. She
disappeared for two days as well. She’s literally not
left her room. Not even for food… unless she’s
waited till I’ve left.

Me - 10:47: Also, asshole.

Lonnie - 10:50: Flexing my psychology degree rn.

Me - 10:50: 🙄

Lonnie - 10:50: 🖕

Lonnie - 10:51: She could just need space. She’s a vet, right?
Now she’s fought in the war?

Me - 10:51: That makes her sound old and grey.
But yh, I guess so.

Lonnie - 10:52: Veterans more often than not have some issues
readjusting to civilian life for several months, sometimes years,
after a long posting. How long was she away for again?

Me - 10:52: Like… three years, I think.

Lonnie - 10:53: Chances are then she’s just having some
trouble with adjusting. Do you know when she came
home?

Me - 10:54 Idk. The first time I saw her was on campus.
So idk how long she was back for before that. Probably
not long bc she said she’d served three years, and she was
posted in September.

Lonnie - 10:54: If it’s bothering u, check on her.

Me - 10:54: Right, and get stabbed by a war vet. Great idea.

Lonnie - 10:58: Don’t get my hopes up.

Tossing her phone onto the couch cushion next to her, Catra huffed as she stood. She groaned under her breath as she walked towards the end of the hall, past Bow's empty bedroom and past Scorpia's. She raised her hand to the door and knocked once, twice, three times. Adora was quiet for a few moments, only broken by a barely audible sigh. "Yeah?" Came through. Catra took that as her cue to enter, so she pushed open the door. "I thought you had the flu," She commented by the doorframe. Adora shifted on her bed, bunking further up. She gestured. "Sit, if you want. I'm only doing coursework," Catra hesitated slightly. Adora rolled her eyes. "Relax, I'm not that traumatised yet,"

Catra snorted awkwardly as she moved to sit down on the edge. "Shift your leg," She said, swiping to flick at it. Adora hummed. "I have," She said over her laptop. Catra raised her eyebrows. "If you don't move 'em, I'll sit on 'em," She warned. Adora rolled her eyes. "I've moved. There's room for you," She said, kicking under the quilt to prove her point. Catra hummed. "Fine," She dropped down onto the bed, sitting against the wall, her legs extended over Adora's.

She frowned. "Wait," She looked at the bed. "Have I eaten some of Perfuma's brownies?" She looked at her hands. "Hm?" Adora mumbled. "You. I should be sitting on your right leg right now," She patted the mattress. "But I'm sat on the mattress," She jabbed Adora's left leg with her finger, electing a disgruntled huff. Adora finally looked up, blinking in awareness. "Oh! That's because I've not got it on," Catra hesitated. "Um... sorry? You- you've not got what on?" Adora gestured to the wardrobe. "My leg," She said. "Open it, you'll see,"

"I'm not gonna look at your leg, Adora. I've definitely had some of 'Fuma's brownies," Catra rubbed her face. Adora giggled as she kicked Catra's legs. "No, seriously! I wear a prosthetic leg," She said. Catra, her curiosity piqued, got off the bed and ventured to the wardrobe. There, inside, were two prosthetic legs. "Well, shit, you weren't kidding," Catra crouched to look at them. "You can pick it up, ya know," Catra yelped as Adora's hand rested on her shoulder for stability. She hopped to the side, leaning against the wall. "They're pretty robust. They're not gonna break if you touch 'em,"

Catra wrinkled her nose, reaching out to poke it. "Oh," She said, somewhat disappointed. "It's plastic," She deadpanned. Adora chuckled. "What, did you think it was human flesh?" She began to laugh, hopping over to her bed and using various things to help her balance. Catra watched with a small frown, something thick and unfamiliar settling in her heart as the blonde eased back into her bed, this time without the blanket on. "How come you never told me?" Catra asked quietly. Adora inhaled in breath and held it for a moment. Catra stayed on the floor. "I dunno... it just never came up," Catra wasn't the best at understanding when to stop in conversations, not because she was autistic or anything, but just because she didn't always think before she spoke.

Hence: "I'd think a missing leg is a pretty easy conversation opener,"

Adora's eyebrows rose into her hairline. Catra peered at the prosthetic again. "Is it above or below?" She asked. Upon silence, she glanced over her shoulder. "Hello?" Adora shook her head, exhaling softly. "Below. I still have my knee," She pulled a weird red sock further up her leg. Catra finally moved from the ground and to the bed. "How'd you lose it?" She asked softly. Adora hesitated, tucking the right leg under her left, hiding it from Catra's view. "If you don't wanna tell me, don't. I'm not gonna force you to,"

Adora shook her head. "No. My therapist says talking about it is healthy," She took a breath. "Um... it's actually one of three really bad injuries. This was just the one that got me discharged," She gestured to the leg. "I can't exactly run without a fucking leg, can I?" Despite the chuckle, Catra could hear, and feel, the disgust in her voice. Catra opted to stay quiet, waiting for Adora to open up on her own.

"The first one was when I was hit in the kidney," She lifted her shirt to display a tiny scar. "Some jackass swung at me after dinner one night. Bruised the fucker so bad it needed taking out," Catra felt a memory bubble to the surface. Oh... Lieutenant Colonel Mara called about that a few months after Adora was posted. Catra assumed it was because of war itself. "The second was a bullet in my shoulder," Adora gestured to her back. "Can't show it 'cus I'm sat down. But I was shot by the enemy and it fucked the nerves in my shoulder blade and my entire left arm," She flexed her fingers. Catra tried not to look at her biceps in the compression shirt. "What does that mean?" Catra said around her thick swallow. Adora stared at her hand in contemplation before letting it drop with a soft smile. "Means I have chronic pain in my arm and shoulder for the rest of my life,"

Oh.

Catra wrinkled her nose. "That's shitty," She eventually said. Adora hummed. "Then this," She gestured to the red socked knee. "How'd you do it?" Catra asked. Adora's face twisted slightly, gaze falling into her lap. "Well, you've gotta have a cool story at least," Catra picked at her fingers. "Oh yeah?" Adora hummed, looking up through her eyelashes. Catra hummed back. "There's no point in telling people you've lost your leg because of some crappy infection!" She scoffed. "You've gotta tell 'em you lost it because you had to choose between your leg and a bus of orphans or some shit,"

The comment didn't make much sense, but it made Adora laugh.

"I mean... the commander of the enemy sliced open the back of my knee?" She shrugged. "Fuck, really? Can I see?" Catra covered her mouth. "I'm so sorry..." She whispered. Adora snorted. "I mean... you can if you want. It's only a small scar, so there's not much to see," Slowly, Adora lowered the red sock and displayed the knee. Catra's finger ghosted near the wound, but not touching it. "Wow," She muttered at the thick white scar. Adora hummed to herself lowly as she lowered her leg and put the red sock on. "Why do you cover it? Does it get cold easily?" Catra asked. The blonde shook her head. "No. It just hurts sometimes. The red thing is a compression sock," She explained. "It's supposed to help with swelling and pain, but I have my doubts,"

Catra finally pulled her gaze away and settled it out of the window instead. She knew she should try and make amends, or at least do something, but she physically couldn't get the words out, despite her brain screaming at her. Eventually, though, Adora reached across the table. "Listen, not that you're not a ray of pure sunshine," She began. "But I need to take my pills," She rattled a bottle. Catra could see an excuse when she was given one. Yet, she continued. "OK?" Adora frowned. Catra rolled her eyes. "Listen, I know an excuse when I see one, but you just have to tell me straight up. I'm not being funny, we share a wall,"

Adora frowned deeper. "I've literally heard you being eaten out against it," Catra deadpanned. Adora's face went bright red as she ducked. "I wasn't aware a triple orgasm was a thing," Catra continued. Adora groaned. "Shut up, Catra. Seriously!"

"And you didn't strike me as a bottom either,"

She only batted away the pillow with a high chuckle, throwing over her shoulder as she left: "I'll have to remember that!"

Chapter Text

Catra hated how easily Adora moulded people into her perspective. Sure, she'd somewhat begun to heal the colossal crack in their relationship, but it took a whole lot more fucking effort than she wanted to make. She was supposed to hate Adora... for leaving her, for getting posted away, for knowingly sighing a suicide contract, for... for getting injured to save her ass, and several other asses as well.

When she mentioned these thoughts to Spinerella, her therapist said it could be something akin to survivor's guilt. She doesn't have survivor's guilt, but having your childhood best friend (in a long-winded way) risk their life to help protect yours and the greater good, whilst also harbouring unpleasant feelings toward one another... could stir up some feelings that aren't nice. It could make the person feel like they owed the former best friend something, purely because of the sacrifice they made.

That's what Spinny said, at least.

Catra probably could've gotten over Adora being a vet now, if it were her own choice to leave. But she was medically discharged... and lost a leg fighting for their country.

Yet, sometimes, even that couldn't stop the real scum of the Earth from breaking the ground to ruin somebody's day.

Looking back on it, she mused... perhaps punching Hordak hard enough to knock out a tooth wasn't the best of ideas, especially in her final year. Catra sighed angrily from the Dean's office. Dean Angella Moon pursed her lips in thought, sighing heavily. "Catra..." She began. "You must understand where I stand here, don't you?" Catra shrugged lightly. "Yeah, I guess so," Angella kept her eyes trained on Catra's for a few beats longer. "I'm not entirely sure you do," She said. "Nobody, or certainly not a large amount of people, have had to deal with this situation before,"

Catra shifted slightly.

"No. Nobody has had to deal with a case of bullying like this before. Not in where a student bullies another student for their service in war or the disability they have to live with now..." Angella levelled Catra with a soft glare. "Neither have they had to deal with another student stepping in to defend student B by, and I quote, "repeatedly punching student A hard enough to physically dislodge and knock out a tooth," well..." Angella glanced up from the paper on her desk. "I'm not sure where I stand,"

Catra sighed quickly, quietly and softly. "Is there any way I get out of this with my degree still?" She asked. Angella cleared her throat. "Even if I were to expel you from the university, Catherine, you would not lose your degree. Or the work you put forward to it. If I so chose to go down that route, you would receive a mark on your record, and I would have to notify anybody who approached me for a reference if you so chose to transfer to another place of education to continue your degree,"

Catra couldn't help but look up in confusion. "Even? Dean Moon?" Angella pursed her lips slightly as she leaned back against her chair. "Hordak was already on fragile ground when he joined this university, so the comments he made today, and the destruction of Adora's prosthetic, will result in expulsion for him. And he will have to pay her back for the prosthetic, either through the university's lawyers or her own... or, as I believe she is still under contract with the military, they will deal with him, as it will be considered destruction of their property," Angella paused. "Which is an option Hordak will not like,"

"It will entirely depend on how Adora wishes to proceed,"

Catra began to play with her nails. "So... um... what does this mean for me?" Angella exhaled softly. "I will give you a verbal warning, and nothing else. I saw nothing wrong with the act you performed. You were defending a person who couldn't defend themselves, yes?" Catra bit back the remark that Adora could've taken them all before she joined the army, never mind now. Catra knew she'd had combat training and gun training, so she could've killed them with one pinch to the neck.

"Absolutely," She agreed instead. Angella nodded, satisfied. "Don't let me see you in here again, Catherine. Not unless it is for good things," Catra stood up to leave, nodding over her shoulder. "Thanks, Dean Moon," Angella gave a simple nod. "I understand the urge to protect our soldiers, Catherine. My husband fought in the war, too... Adora was just fortunate enough to make it home," Catra snorted softly. "You call a life filled with PTSD, a missing leg and chronic pain fortunate?" Angella's face twisted slightly. "Well... she's alive... that in itself is a gift, I suppose... discounting everything else,"

Biting her tongue, Catra turned and left.

Adora usually prided herself on her "keeping herself together"ness that she had. One thing the army had taught her was to not show weakness. Weakness was very much preyed upon. Especially by butt-hurt men who thought they somehow deserved to be in the army more than the women did. Then Adora climbed the ranks, jumping from Private to Sergeant in less than two years. She'd developed thick skin, thicker than her fellow Sergeant Rogelio, one who was regularly ribbed on his inability to bruise thanks to his thick skin.

But then she was shot and became a cripple. All that thick skin fell off in those four weeks in the hospital, leaving her with just the bones on her skeleton. The muscle she'd trained for, gone. The strength she had, fucking gone. Her dignity? Left the second she pissed into a tube in front of her commanding officers, unable to fucking walk anywhere. Her pride? Fucking poofed away when Hope told her she was medically discharged from service.

Around two weeks into her lovely stay in the Crimson hospital, she came to know that Mara had died in that ambush, right at the end. Hope didn't tell her until she was off the heavy dose of morphine. Adora wanted to go to Mara's funeral, but couldn't fucking walk, so she had to watch on SKYPE.

Technically, Adora shouldn't be showering with her prosthetic, but Hordak (the absolute fucking TWAT END) had already broken it when he swung his crowbar at it. So, there Adora stood (for the first time in twelve weeks) in the shower, scrubbing her body until it grew raw. Only once she'd broken the skin, she stopped. Adora remained under the boiling hot water for several minutes after, simply... existing. There was so much she had to do… Angella was pressuring her to pick a legal team to charge Hordak for the prosthetic and medical checks of the surgical area, her lecturer (who so happened to be Hordak's father) was trying to force her hand into not pursuing Hordak legally and increasing her workload until she agreed...

Adora swallowed thickly, flapping her hands nervously, feeling the panic attack creeping from the darkness of her mind. The blood pounded in her ears. Her heart thudded in her chest. Her hands shook. Her foot tingled. Her vision warped, as if she were looking through a fish-eye lens.

Adora shuddered. She had to do something... she had to get away. The water continued burning her back, but Adora didn’t register it. She lowered herself to her knees (knee, you stupid bitch. You weren't quick enough, and you lost one), feeling them (IT) quake dangerously under her weight. Tears burned her eyes as they left, stinging her red raw cheeks in their paths. She clutched the metallic bars of the shower, her hands wrapped so tightly around it that her nails dug into her palms. Breathing was hard. Really hard. As if she’d just run the 50-klick Galebreath Gauntlet.

She cried harder, her chest growing tight as bile rose in her throat. Adora scratched at her chest as if she could open it and force her lungs to accept more oxygen. Her vision began to grow splotchy at the edges.

Her watch buzzed frantically, the tinny voice crackling. "Warning. Heart rate is exceeding parameters," Adora could only wheeze for breath pitifully. She slid down the wall, bringing her knees close to her chest. Somewhat very distantly, she was aware of the shower burning her back.

Her watch buzzed against her wrist. Adora’s head dropped against the stone walls, her neck unable to support it anymore.

The door suddenly slammed open. Somebody rushed in, but everything was a frantic blur of colours - nothing was solid enough to identify. “Shit, Adora, you’re having a panic attack, ok?” The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but not enough to her panic-addled brain. “I’m going to touch you, ok?” Adora jerked a nod, coherent enough to understand that. If she weren’t in the shower, and naked, then the question probably wouldn’t have been asked. But she was… and it was.

Her hand made contact with something clothed. “You feel that? Try and match my breathing,” The voice said. Adora flexed her fingers, feeling the rise and fall of the person's chest. She tried to make her lungs cooperate, but they refused, insisting on staying too small for her body. She jerked her head. “Can’t- I can’t!” She gasped. “Ok, that’s ok. We’ll try something new,” The voice kept her hand on their chest. “Name me one thing you can taste,” The voice said. Adora blinked frantically. “Come on, Adora. Name me one thing you can taste,” They said again. Adora’s tongue felt too heavy for her mouth. “Um… my-my tongue,” She stuttered. The voice hummed. “Ok. Now, two things you can hear,” Adora’s head began to grow fuzzy with the little amount of oxygen. “Water… you,” She gasped out. “Good… now, three things you can feel,” The voice sounded slightly clearer. Adora flexed her fingers and toes. “Um… metal… your sh-shirt and… um… water?” She tried. The voice hummed again. “Good. Four things you can smell?” The fuzz in her brain dissipated slightly. “Shampoo,” she said. “Um… the- toilet cleaner… you and… a-uh-“ She sniffed the air. “Uh… soap,”

Her heart seemed to stop breaking her chest cavity. “Great. Finally, five things you can see?” The voice asked. Adora shut her eyes softly, opening them slowly. “Shower… the toilet… me…. the- the door,” She paused. Her vision cleared up enough to identify the voice. She glanced down with a flush. “And you,” She said timidly.

Catra hummed softly. “Good,” She gently put something soft into Adora’s lap. Adora looked down, immediately wrapping the towel around her body. Adora tried to haul herself up but shook dangerously.

Catra grabbed under her arms. “Steady. You’ve just had a panic attack… and a pretty bad one… you should wait a minute,” Adora shook her head. “No. I-I need to get out of here,” She insisted.

Catra released her grip. “Ok, ok. We can get out of here. But you have to sit down, ok? I don’t want to bring you out of a panic attack, just for you to break a bone trying to walk?” She tried to joke. Adora glanced between her and the running water. “Ok,” She said softly. With Catra's help, Adora shuffled to her bedroom, silently sitting on the bed.

Catra walked out and returned a few moments later. “I found these in one of the drawers,” She handed some soft clothes over. “When I have a panic attack, the last thing I feel like doing is talking and interacting with people. I just put on my sweats and sleep it off,” Catra shifted by the door. "I don’t know if it’s the same for you, but… yeah,” Adora began to pull on the soft clothes, trembling violently. “Thank you… Catra,” she said softly.

Catra waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. Panic attacks are horrible when they come out of nowhere,” She said. Adora was quiet for a few beats. It was clear Catra had something on her mind, but she thankfully chose not to pursue it.

Adora was grateful for the tact.

Chapter Text

Winter in Bright Moon was always rough. Because of the close proximity to the Whispering Woods district, the winter that took the forestry area by a chokehold, quickly shifted to the capitol after the holiday season, usually. Sometimes it'd start as early as mid-December, but oftentimes it would only take hold in mid-January. It'd stay with its icy claws dug in tightly until the beginning of March, sometimes even April where it'd be Spring until mid-June, boiling until mid-August, Autumn until mid-September, and winter until April again.

Catra knew first-hand that the winter sucked huge ass because she'd always catch a chest infection that'd bully her body until long after Christmas. She'd finally cracked Adora's shell some more in her cooped-up state between Christmas and New Year. Apparently, in the three years that she'd served, she'd only been to two bases. The central base, Bright Moon Army Reserve (or B-MAR, as she'd called it) and the Crimson Waste.

Aptly named after its scorching temperatures, Adora claimed. Despite using copious amounts on her pasty ass skin, she'd burned badly enough to need hospital treatment in the first few weeks there. As had most of her squad, including the LTC, Mara. Catra didn't fail to notice the sharp twist in the atmosphere when she was mentioned. "What was she then? Apart from a Sarge," Catra asked. Adora's eyes fixated on a point in the rug, glazing over as she spoke. "Officially, nothing else. But Mara always went through the effort to have friendly relationships with her subordinates," The blonde clutched her tea mug so tightly, that Catra wondered if it'd break. "Commanding respect was easier when the people you were trying to lead already liked you," Catra put her mug down on the table. "You sound like you speak from experience," She noted.

Adora remained staring at the rug, blinking sluggishly. Catra dug her toes into the blonde's thigh. "Hey, I'm talking," She wiggled her toes. Adora blinked harshly, slapping Catra's foot. "Fuck off, that hurts," Catra shrugged. "Always works," She answered. Adora rolled her eyes, losing some of the ram-rod straightness her spine always held, sinking into the sofa a bit more. She moved her left shoulder slightly, then dug it into the side with a squint. "You got a pillow?" She asked. Catra frowned a little at the request but handed over the one by her side. Adora grabbed it and folded it in half, tucking it behind her left shoulder and leaning against it.

Catra noted the way her shoulder dropped as if the tense line had been cut. "Better?" She asked. Adora nodded. "Mm-hmm. S'just a bad pain day I s'pose," She shook her head softly with a loud sigh. "Must be the weather," Catra hummed in agreement, sipping some more of her drink. A few moments passed before she spoke again. "So you never answered me," Adora finally turned to look in her direction. Catra was suddenly struck with the realisation of how tired Adora looked. Not physically, but just... tired. Like she'd been fighting her whole entire life on four hours of sleep.

"What?" She sighed. Catra shook her head lightly. If Adora didn't wanna be tired, she shouldn't've joined the fucking army. Her fault, and nobody else's. "You talking about Mara. It sounded like you knew from experience of commanding people," Catra caught onto the immediate tensing of Adora's shoulders. "I do," She answered shortly. "Like what? Were you in charge of people?" Adora's eyes became guarded. "Can we talk about this another day?" She shifted, reaching for the crutch leaning against the door. "I'm really tired and my leg hurts," Catra narrowed her eyes slightly. She wanted to ask what she meant by her leg hurting, but, ethically and morally, she couldn't. Catra was already on a slip n' slide to hell, and asking that question may very well turn it into a drop slide.

"Do you want any painkillers?" She asked instead. Adora hummed softly as she shook her head. "Nah, it's fine. I need strong ones, and you can only get those at a clinic or hospital," She heaved herself up, balancing on the crutch. "I ran out this morning, so I'll get some tomorrow," Adora cleared her throat softly as she hopped to her bedroom, having taken off the backup leg earlier that evening. Catra's eyes followed her movements laser-focused. "If you're sure?" She called. "Sometimes it can help just by taking the edge off," Adora shook her head with a bitter laugh. "Nothing takes the edge off, but thanks anyway,"

Catra could see a conversation closer from a mile away.

"See you in the morning," She called.

The following morning, Catra woke up to four texts on her phone and no Adora.

Blondie - 03:27:  Woke up with a fever of 103, so went to hospital. Will text you if I have to stay overnight.

Blondie - 07:34:  They're keeping me all day to see if the fever goes away. It hasn't rn, but we'll see.

Blondie - 12:20: fever still hasnt gone n they think melegg s ofected. comese me okss

Blondie - 12:21: *pls

Catra rubbed her face roughly, sighing heavily when her phone began to buzz in her grip. "'lo?" She mumbled in greeting."Good afternoon, Catherine," Angella's voice spoke from the speaker loud and clear. "Oh. Good, uh, good afternoon, Dean Moon," Catra fumbled the phone, scooching up the bed. "I haven't got much time on this call, so I will keep it short and sweet," Angella continued. Catra's heart fell into her feet. "I have been alerted that Adora is in urgent care for reasons undisclosed to me, by Colonel Light," Catra's heart fell further into her feet, squishing against her toes. "With all due respect, Dean Moon, what does this have to do with me?" Catra was already tugging on her hoodie and skinny jeans from the ground. "Seeing as you were, perhaps indirectly, connected to the situation via your physical confrontation with Hordak, I have been advised to bring you as a witness for the army's records,"

Catra grabbed her wallet from the side and car keys from the bowl. "Um... sure. What hospital? I was heading to see Adora anyway, to be fair," She fumbled with the front lock, jogging downstairs. "BMUC," Angella answered. "If you approach the desk and ask for Sergeant Major Light, they'll take it from there," Catra threw herself into the beat-up Mini, barely running on fumes and spite, and switched to Bluetooth. "Ok. I'm going there now," She said. Angella hummed from the other line. "Do not say anything until I get there... the army has a tendency to send their best talker out for situations like this, and more often than not, you end up confessing or saying things you didn't intend to," Catra hummed, bidding goodbye. She knew the army was clever with their words... that's how they'd convinced Adora that joining the army was the best way to avenge her brother's death.

Part of the reason Catra refused to have any connections to Adora when she was in the army was this very reason. Adora laying, pale as a sheet, in a hospital bed. Well... that might be exaggerating just a tad, but she was still pale in the bed and colder than usual to the touch. Catra stayed in the armchair to the side, mindlessly scrolling through shit on her phone as Adora slept. Truthfully, Catra had no idea what she was doing, just waiting. Some guy in the camo bullshit had taken her up to Adora's room in stiff silence, opened the door, stuffed her in and left again.

Catra knew he was just doing his job, but even so. A hello would've been nice. "We're not allowed to interact with the public on casual matters when we're on duty," Adora had told her once. "What do you mean, casual matters?" Catra replied. "Like, we can't go and sit in a coffee house or drink anything besides water in a clear bottle on duty, the only times we can speak is if we're being asked a question by a civilian, being talked to by a member of law enforcement or government, or our own commanders," She chuckled lightly. "Mara wasn't ever tight to the rules though. She'd always chat to the old ladies, even if Hope was around,"

Catra wouldn't get too much more out of her after that. At the mention of Mara, Adora would curl in on herself a little tighter and change the subject.

"You must be Catherine," A new voice spoke. She turned. "Depends who's asking," Catra answered. The woman by the door smiled in an odd way. It seemed like she was trying to reassure Catra that she posed no threat, yet, her smile suggested otherwise. Like she was trying to catch Catra out in a lie and bust her for it. "I'm sure you're aware of who I am," The woman continued. Catra shrugged. "I'm guessing you're the Sarg," She answered. Hope hummed. "Colonel Hope Light," She confirmed. "Or, you can just call me Hope," Catra nodded once. Hope jutted her chin to Adora. "I'm her commanding officer. Along with around a thousand soldiers," Hope walked across and stood by the edge of the metallic bed, pausing as she took in the vitals beeping on the monitor. "Technically, I only directly commanded seven-fifty, but as Colonel, I had to command a few high-ranking officers below me," She turned to Catra. "Such as Lieutenant Colonel Mara, before she passed on, and Adora," Catra hummed lowly. Maybe now she could learn more about Adora's exploits in the army.

"Adora was a high-ranking officer? What was she?" Catra pretended to act disinterested, but she was genuinely curious. Adora had always been a high achiever... Catra wondered just how high Adora had climbed in three years. "Adora is a Captain," Hope answered. Catra nodded. "Is that good?" Truthfully, she had no idea how high a captain was in the army. "For only serving three years, yes, it's very good. Not many have achieved such ranks in such time," Hope nodded. "What did she do? Who was she in charge of?" Catra barrelled. "Have you not asked Adora this, yourself?" Hope asked with a tinge of irritation in her voice. Catra felt her skin bristle. "She's otherwise engaged right now," She answered. Hope rolled her shoulder slightly, inhaling with a shark-like smile. "Adora wasn't "in charge" of anybody. She would oversee anywhere from sixty-two soldiers to one-ninety. Adora typically had one-fifty under her sight,"

Catra whistled lowly. "Damn,"

Hope hummed lowly in agreement, falling into silence for a few moments. "I suppose you understand why we are involved with Captain Greyskull's condition," Catra shrugged nonchalantly. "Nope. I haven't got a clue," She turned to stare at the Colonel. Hope hummed lowly, clearly not believing Catra. "I doubt that. You are close, no? We find it hard to believe that you simply do not know," Catra shrugged again. "I know she's unwell. Beyond that, I know nothing," She kept her gaze trained on the officer. "Well, in an altercation, of which we don't know the minute details, but we will find them out, the army-issued prosthesis was damaged beyond repair," Hope nodded in Adora's direction. "Our Orthotist determined the cause to be blunt force. Possibly a crowbar or something of that variety," Catra pretended to pick at her nails. "Thanks to the damage to the prosthesis, it irritated the surgical area and caused an infection," Hope paused. "If it were just a case of an infection, obviously, we wouldn't be involved. However, not only does the damage fall under a hate crime, it's also damaged official military property and will be dealt with by our own police force, in addition to the BMPD,"

Catra swallowed softly. "Well, I certainly didn't do it, so you can rest the glare," She said instead. Hope squinted slightly as if she were looking at her prey for the day. Catra kept her gaze steady, only looking away when Hope hummed softly, turning back to Adora. "I understand that you were a witness to the crime. You are here to give a statement, yes?" Catra cleared her throat. "Yeah, but I'm not speaking until Angella arrives," Hope cocked a brow. "Angella? Is she Adora's mother? We were under the impression Adora's parents served in the military," Catra tucked her phone away into her pocket. "No, Angella is our Dean. Seeing as the incident took place at the university, Angella Moon will be coming to help mitigate everything," Catra shifted. "And I suspect she'll be bringing the university's legal team with her... or at least representation,"

Hope gave a single nod. "I understand. It is wise to have legal representation when you can. Some of our officers, even I admit, can be a little intimidating to those of us who don't deal with them on a frequent basis," She paused. "As is their job," Catra scoffed softly. "I've spoken with the police before, and they're about as intimidating to a young woman as anything can get, so, I think I could've managed,"

Hope chuckled. "You have moxi. And I respect that. Not many women have it anymore, instead settling for a life of mediocrity and submission," She turned with a wolf-like grin. "But I can assure you, from personal experience, that our officers, that military police, are much worse than BMPD. They are designed and trained to be dealing with war criminals and deserters, some of which bench press twice your weight as a warm-up," Hope put her cap back on. "So, I can guarantee, you wouldn't fair quite as well as you think you would," Catra followed her to the door, a sneer curling at her lip. "Which isn't a reflection on you as a person, Catherine. I have been on the receiving end of interrogation with the military police before," Hope paused. "And believe me when I say it's harder to stand up for yourself against them than you think,"

Saying nothing further, Hope opened the door and pulled it closed behind.

Chapter Text

~

Catra, after Angella arrived and began talking with the burly men outside of Adora’s room, let herself be led away by Hope. “Do you drink coffee, Catra?” She asked, briefly looking up from her phone. Catra shrugged. “Sometimes. Not often though,” Hope hummed. “Walk with me? I am getting a coffee,” Catra narrowed her eyes. “I just said I don’t drink coffee,” Hope chuckled. “I may be older than you, but my hearing isn’t. I am getting a coffee. You can order what you’d like. My treat,” Catra glared as venomously as she could. “I don’t want any “sign up now” BS. My be- friend is in there, suffering, because she signed up. I’m not putting myself in that position,” She spat, ignoring the way her mouth tried to say best friend.

Hope simply held up her hand. “I am not here on recruitment. Even if that were my task, it wouldn’t be me. There are recruitment officers for that. I simply wish to talk to you,” Catra hummed. “Fine. I won’t turn down a free drink,"

~

“So, Catherine, tell me about yourself,” Hope sipped some black coffee, putting her cap on the table. Catra huffed. “It’s Catra. And I'm good,” Catra took a loud sip from her tea. Hope hummed. “Ok, Catra,” She pursed her lips briefly, clasping her hands. “I’m going to be blunt. We have little to no information on Adora. Her medical history, any kind of hereditary diseases she might have, or develop, any neurological disorders,” Catra snorted. “And why are you asking me?” Hope took another sip. “She said you had the information as her next of kin,” Catra’s heart sunk a little. “Seeing as you relinquished your kinship before we could ask you for the information, we no longer had grounds to, at least not without legal force, which Adora refused,"

Catra hummed over her anxiety. “Seeing as Adora is currently out of commission, but still has a little over four years left to serve, we need that information now,” Hope displayed a piece of paper. “I’m not asking for anything really personal. Only medical,” Catra scoffed softly. “We’re in a hospital. Why can’t you ask them?” Hope hummed. “Do you not think we’ve tried? The hospital has nothing on Adora either. The base hospital where she was born was unfortunately destroyed, along with all of their files. The only records of one Adora Grayskull are those her adoptive mother filled out, education records and what little the military could contribute,” Hope paused. “But, as I’m sure you’re aware, Sheila Weaver wasn’t exactly the most truthful when it came to legal documentation,"

Catra did know that.

She sighed heavily. “I’ll tell you her medical and fucked up family problems, if you answer me one thing,” Hope hummed. “Within reason,” She agreed. Catra smirked softly. “You tell me how the hell she managed to get from scrawny anxiety-riddled Adora to muscular boss Captain Adora in less than three years,"

Hope straightened a little. “I can show you. For training purposes of higher management, we record training sessions and ceremonies. I will take you to the conference room,"

Mara liked to pride herself on her general togetherness. She’d been in the army since she was sixteen, and now twelve years later at twenty-eight, she stood as a proud Lieutenant Colonel, watching her little soldiers graduate from privates to first-class privates. Meaning, they were finally ready to go out into the big bad world and complete missions from the head honchos. Despite Mara leading three hundred on average, only one-fifth of her privates were graduating to first class today. The other half weren’t graduating for a while.

Graduation should be one of the best parts of a soldier's service. Mara remembered all three of her enlisted ranks, and all five of her officer ranks vividly. Mara was an orphan from the age of fourteen, having witnessed her parents being brutally slaughtered in an attack on her home city, Eternia. It spurred her to join the Etherian army and fight for those who couldn’t fight for themselves.

Of all the fresh faces who came to her in October of 2118, one stuck out the most. Adora Grayskull. Daughter of the legendary General Randor and Lieutenant General Marlena. She, along with her twin brother Adam, were legacy children, having followed in the steps of their parents. Adam had served briefly underneath Mara for four months before transferring to the Air Force. When Mara had asked where his sister was, Adam just shrugged. “She’s not interested in joining,"

Adam died a mere eight months later, being shot down by the enemy.

Adora enlisted less than a year afterwards.

Yet, as Mara stood in her navy blues, watching as each private was tapped out from formation, her heart ached horribly for the lone blonde cadet, whose family had died long ago. When it was only Adora and ten others, Mara approached Hope. “Do I have your permission to tap Adora Grayskull out? Her family aren’t in attendance, and won’t be,” She’d asked. Hope briefly flicked over the clipboard in her hands. “No. She’s under your command. I will do it,"

The two ladies walked over and approached the ram-rod straight blonde. “PFC Grayskull?” Hope asked. The blonde remained looking ahead, as she’d been taught. Hope raised her hand and touched Adora’s shoulder. “You’re tapped out, Adora,” She said. Mara stood just behind, waiting until Hope removed her arm and walked away. She walked up to the blonde. “Hey, I’m sorry nobody could come,” She said. Adora sniffled quietly once and turned with pursed lips. “I’m not. If they’re not willing to see me now, then that says all I need to know about them, doesn’t it?"

Before Mara could respond, Adora saluted once and marched off to the mess hall alone.

Catra found herself gnawing on her lip. “She… she had nobody at graduation?” Hope hummed. “You’re allowed to invite as many people as you wish. Adora, to my knowledge, sent out three invites. To one Glimmer Moon, Lonnie Horde and you,” Hope took a long sip of her second coffee. “Seeing as nobody RSVP’d or attended, her commanding officer, and my subordinate, Marabelle Hope had to tap her out,” Hope paused. “It’s a shame her parents aren’t around… I fought with Marlena in the Air Force for a few years before transferring to the Army,” She took another sip. “They’d be so proud of her,"

Catra slammed her cup down. “Listen, lady. I don’t wanna be guilt-tripped,” She glared. “I’m not trying to guilt trip you, Catherine. I’m simply telling you what you wished to know,” Catra tried to calm her unsteady heart. “Why show me how mopey she was in that stupid video?” She hissed. Hope leaned back in her chair, a calculating look in her eyes. “Do you want to stop? I can show you some training videos instead, if that’s what you’d prefer,” Catra swallowed thickly, necking her hot tea. It burned her throat, leaving her thirsty for water. “Fine,” She hissed. Hope hummed.

Mara slowly walked into the gym, flashing her ID badge at the camera. She kicked her shoes off by the side and slipped on her trainers from the cubbyhole. Only one other person occupied the gym at this stupid hour of two am. She was blonde, about five foot seven, and had steely blue eyes. “Adora,” Mara called gently. The blonde either ignored her or didn’t hear her, for she kept using the pull-up bar and hoisting herself over it in sets of ten, exhaling harshly with every lift. “Adora,” Mara tried again. The blonde continued her pull-ups. Mara took a few steps over, standing a few paces behind. Adora finally dropped from the bar and pulled out her phone, switching the music track on her now visible headphones.

She stretched briefly, pressing a hand into her side, and wincing with a low swear. Mara puffed out a breath, following her as she moved to the punching bag. In sets of five per hand and alternating legs, Adora swung and kicked at the rice bag. Mara, though she was woken from her sleep and consequently, pissed off, was very impressed. Adora continued going at the rice bag for a solid five minutes before Mara tapped her shoulder.

She expected the swing, so was unsurprised when Adora gasped loudly and swung with a strong right hook. Mara ducked down, barely missing it. Had Adora made contact, Mara would’ve definitely had a concussion. “Hello She-Ra,” Mara teased. Adora’s hair was plastered to her forehead, sweat still dribbling down her temples and into her shirt. She yanked off her headphones with a jolty salute… swiftly followed by a sharp gasp and a hand to her side as her shirt began to stain red. Mara tutted loudly and crossed her arms. “Why are you working out this heavily, PFC Grayskull? You’ve only just been cleared for  light  exercise,” She chastised. “That means casual walking or stretching,"

Adora groaned softly as she slumped down the side of the wall. “Not pull-ups and boxing! Cabrona,” Luckily, when Mara had been alerted on her way to bed that a stray soldier had gone into the gym, she’d thought wisely and brought her med kit. Mara sighed heavily and crouched by the blonde’s side. “Shirt up,” She said. Adora’s hand shook as she pulled her white tank top up. “Jesus, Adora. I don’t think I can stitch this with what I’ve got,” She tutted. Adora whined. “Noooo… no hospital,” Mara felt her eye twitch. Adora huffed petulantly. “Up. We’re going to the medical bay. They’re gonna have to remove the stitches and redo them,”

Slowly, Mara helped her close friend up from the ground and slung her arm over her shoulder. They walked out of the room, with Mara flashing her ID card again, and began shuffling to the medical bay. “Why’d you do it?” She asked quietly. Adora refused to meet her eyes. “Adora. You’re a sensible soldier. Why would you do this? Work yourself so your stitches burst?” Mara craned her head to look at her subordinate as best she could. “I just… I needed to get my mind off it,” She finally mumbled. Mara frowned. “Mind off what? The surgery?” She asked. Adora just hunched further in on herself. “Adora, most of us have had surgery here at some point. It doesn’t make you any less of a soldier,” She tried to reassure.

Adora shook her head as they continued limping to the medical ward. “No… it’s January 20th,” Mara quickly glanced at her phone. Shit. “Oh… it’s Adam’s birthday, isn’t it?” She asked softly. “You’d think being twins would mean the same birthday, huh?” Adora asked bitterly. “But that's the best thing about being eight minutes older. Me being born at eleven-fifty-six, he being born at double-oh-four,” Mara pulled Adora into her side a little tighter. “I’m sorry about your loss, Adora,” She whispered. “I only knew Adam for a few months, but from what I’d seen, he was an incredible person and loved you so much,”

Adora abruptly stopped, jerking out of Mara’s grip. The colonel stopped in surprise and turned just in time to help the blonde slide down the wall as her body caved in on itself with violent, physically wracking sobs. Mara slid to her knees and pulled Adora into her shoulder, letting her sob loudly into it. She said nothing further, just rubbing her back softly.

After the videos had finished, Catra found her heart aching. Why hadn’t she answered those fucking messages? Her friend needed her. While watching the videos, Catra had been impressed (and somewhat attracted) by the dramatic change in Adora’s physique and status in the army over two and a half years, settling on the Adora she knew now and the apparent rank of Captain. “She was one of our fastest achieving soldiers,” Hope broke the silence. “That’s why she became Captain nearly six months before the average,” She took another tantalisingly long sip of her coffee. Catra stared into her empty glass with a small huff.

“So… what?” She eventually said. Hope hummed in question. “What do you want me to tell you? Cus I really wanna get outta here,” She spat. Hope shifted slightly, pulling out a folder. “This form. If you could answer these questions to the best of your ability, that’d be great,” Catra flicked through the form. “You know I know fuck all about her parents? Or before that? I barely know about her brother,” She said. Hope plucked a pen from her breast pocket. “Doesn’t matter. just fill in what you can,"

Despite knowing Catra was doing it for the benefit of Adora, she didn’t like the look in Hope’s eyes.

Chapter Text

You guys, I’m actually so proud of my best friend right now. She beta’s all of my stories and even gives me writing tips on how to flesh out characters and such: in short, my writing is basically hers with the same style. She just doesn’t write fanfiction.

But in December, she self-published her very first book! I’m genuinely so fucking proud of her. She’s got a hardback, paperback and e-book available.

My issue is that nobody seems to be buying it. She’s really down about it but doesn’t show it. I just know her well enough to know she’s bullshitting. It’s somewhat based on the loss of our best friend in 2020: she actually brought us together as a mutual, so reading the words that she wrote in her honour makes me lowkey cry.

Please give it a read. It’d really make her (somewhat crappy) year. It’s not my business to air out her laundry, so just give it a read, please.

Here are the links.

Paperback

Hardback

e-Book

Chapter Text

Six weeks later.

“I don’t need you to fix things!” Catra spat. “I think you do. You need help!” Adora shouted back. “You haven’t gotten anything done, and you’ve been here for months!” Catra hissed and turned in on herself. Adora had no idea. Just because she went to war and fought the big bad man and became Captain DID NOT mean she could invade Catra's life. Sheila's voice grew louder in her head, hissing venomous remarks.

"You never do anything right."

"You're worthless"

"Look at you, Adora's finally realising what a worthless wretch you are,"

"Lazy,"

"Useless,"

Catra gripped the side of her head, digging her nails in. It needed to stop. It had to stop, or she’d rip herself to shreds. “Catra?” A hand touched her shoulder. She pushed it off, digging her claws in for emphasis. “I don’t need you!” She screamed. Part of her knew she was screaming at the voices in her head, but the other knew she was lashing out at Adora... and she wanted her to hurt.

Adora's lip quivered, but Catra wasn’t done. She couldn’t stop herself. This is where it all ends. She knew it would come. It was always inevitable that they’d break. Might as well get it over with now. Lash out and destroy it all before they could get any farther, and Catra’s heart could be left any more bare and throbbing. She does this every time: gets close to someone and hurts them... like Sheila always said she would.

Catra remembered a time when she was about to end it all, but fucking Adora flexed her complex again.

Adora found her on the roof with a bottle of whiskey. She wanted to call the cops and rush up there to get her… but a small part of her stalled. Last time, it was Adora up there, on the roof, wanting to end it all. And it had been Catra's kind words and patience that pulled her back from the edge.

And Adora was determined to pull Catra back from the edge.

“It first started when you were adopted,” Catra began. “I know you wanted to stay, but… you’re Sheila’s golden girl… Sheila somehow blamed it on me, and let me know… every day,” She took another swig of her bottle. Adora hummed. “She’d hit us whenever we misbehaved, which, you know, is fine if it’s one slap on the behind… but she wouldn’t stop hitting until we bled,"

Adora hummed again. Despite what Catra thought she knew, Adora had been unlucky in the adoption department. So she knew first-hand what it was like to have a physically abusive adult in her life. “So… we’re on the roof because?” Catra paused. “Because I don’t wanna do this anymore." Adora questioned what, and Catra sniffled loudly. “This fucked up game of life,"

She took another swig of the amber bottle. “I thought that by heading to university for law, she'd be proud of me…  or at the very least leave me alone," Adora hummed, shifting on the uncomfortable roof tiles. The two sat in silence for a while. “Catra… why don’t we get down, hmm? This roof isn't comfy enough to consider life,” She said softly. Catra downed the rest of the bottle. “No matter how fast I run, it’ll always catch up to me,” She whispered. Adora frowned. “What?” She sighed as she faced her. “Something I saw on TV. The only way to deal with your problems is to deal with them head-on. Running will delay, but not stop them.” Adora huffed. “Well, it's not wrong. Running does delay it… But some problems need to be run away from. Abusive parents are one of them.”

Catra scoffed quietly. “I forgot about your lovely adoptive father… you’re one of the few people who understand what it's like…” She stood up, swaying slightly. “Well, and I say this with all my heart, I wish we didn’t understand this. In my eyes, there’s no excuse for a parent to hit their kid."

She stood there, on the edge of the roof. “If I lean forward enough, everything will stop."

“The bruises, the scars, the anxiety… it’ll all stop,” She continued. Adora stood with a grunt. “Yeah, it will. But in its wake will be mourning and grief.” Adora sighed heavily. “Catra, I promise you, I’m gonna help you out of this.” She grabbed her arm and gently pulled her back from the edge.

...

“And how could I ever rely on you?” She continued bitterly, in spite of the memory. “You left your friends, your whole life, to go and flex that fucking hero complex of yours to "avenge your family" that you never even met!" Catra mocked. Her heart was screaming at her to stop. “So, what’s to stop you from leaving me, huh, princess?” She spat.

Adora's blue eyes widened. “Catra-”

She cut her off before she could give another fake apology. “You can just stop pretending to care or trying to help. There is nothing you can do to fix this, to fix me. I’m better off without you!” She turned away, facing the window of the dorm. She didn’t want to see Adora’s face... whether there was heartbreak or relief. Only the rain hitting the window and the party upstairs filled the silence.

Until she heard a quiet whimper, only just loud enough for her to catch between bass drops. When she looked back, Catra stumbled back a little. Tears gathered in the corners of Adora’s eyes, only just held back by the teeth biting into her lip and sheer will. Adora had never looked like that before- not when Adam died, not when she confessed about her leg, not even when Hordak pulled that fucking stunt that landed her on Hope’s radar again. Adora didn’t cry. At least not in front of others, not like this.

It almost made her anger break, unable to watch those baby blues bleed tears. Tears that she caused. But Catra made herself turn away again. Catra would only continue to hurt her because that’s just who she was. “I’m sorry," Adora’s voice shook. “I won’t bother you again. I’ll just… go. You won’t have to deal with me ever again.”

Catra heard her uneven steps slap against the wooden floor and the clattering of keys. Catra turned and saw only a flash of red as Adora flew out of the dorm, the door slamming violently behind her. It was better that way... There was no temptation to call her back, to try and pull back all the vicious biting words that spewed from her. This was good, Catra tried to convince herself. She should stay as far away as she could from Catra. Save herself from any more hurt. And all the anger that still raked through her.

The front door opened.

"Adora, fuck off," She hissed. "Um... not Adora," She turned slightly. Scorpia was home from break. "But she did just tear off down the hall like her butt was on fire," She stepped into the common area. "What the hell happened?" She asked. Catra scoffed. “What, friends can't argue?" She asked. Scorpia shook her head. "Not like that, no," Catra wanted to ask her what she meant, but another person at the door spoke first. "Hey, is Adora OK? She just ran into me," Perfuma stepped in. "I think she was crying..." Catra pulled her lower lip in and chewed the inside until she tasted blood. "I don't know. They've argued, apparently," Scorpia whispered, clearly forgetting Catra had feline hearing. "That girl was a wreck. I- I'm not sure she should be going anywhere on her own right now," Catra finally turned back with a hiss. "Perfuma, go after her. Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid," Scorpia gently pushed her girlfriend out. Perfuma only nodded once, quickly taking off in the direction of the distraught blonde. "Wildcat-"

Catra didn't let her even try. "I bet you think you’re so much better than me. Got your life all figured out, so you have to help poor pitiful Catra. Well, the joke's on you. I’ve had to take care of myself ever since I was four years old. I don’t need you or Adora’s help. You’re both assholes and need to leave me alone!" She screamed, throwing a glass at Scorpia's head. She sidestepped, of course.

“Catra, I don't know what's going on, and neither do I particularly care right now,” Scorpia began. “But you need to calm down and control yourself... even if she was wrong for whatever reason, you're way too angry. You’re acting like you did before... everything," Catra's hackles raised. "Like how, Scorpia?" She hissed. Scorpia met her gaze. "Like a bad friend,"

The words were like a bucket of water tossed onto all the heat of her anger. Still, she couldn’t stop now. It was all too late. She was too committed.

Yet.

She hissed aloud, pulling her arms in tightly for a sense of grounding. Scorpia's phone began ringing. "Hey, 'Fuma, did you find her?" Perfuma's voice was tinny on the phone, but she was frantic any crying. "Wait, wait, wait, baby, slow down," Scorpia began pacing. Catra inched closer, trying to make out the other end of the conversation. "She's on the edge, Scorpia, I can't get her down, she won't listen to me!" Perfuma wailed. On the edge? Catra frowned, finally looking up at Scorpia. Her gaze was hard. Catra knew then that she'd fucked up. "Where are you? We're coming,"

Perfuma said something, but Catra's ears were roaring. Scorpia put her phone down with a glare. "You need to man up, now, Catra. You're the only one who can fix this," She hissed. Catra pulled back a little in shock. "Why are you angry with me?!" She exclaimed. "Adora's the one who has no respect for boundaries!" She yelled. Scorpia scoffed. "Maybe, but whatever was said in that argument was the nail in the coffin." She hauled on her coat. "What do you mean?" Catra approached slowly. "You know I fought as well? In the army?" Scorpia asked. Catra nodded. "Yeah, you've got a prosthetic, like she does," Scorpia nodded. "Do you know what else we have?" She asked. "Nightmares, dark thoughts, 24/7 pain, constant fear and worry," She paused. "Dark thoughts," Catra shrugged, confused. "OK?" Scorpia sighed, tossing her a red raincoat.

"Adora's on the roof, Catra," She whispered. Catra shrugged again, but despite herself, the gears in her mind began working. On the edge of the roof? It’s raining, why the fuck would anyone be up there? Well… she conceded. Apart from those who wanted to kill themselves. Adora had talked to her about that once, how she’d attempted twice. Once in school, once in the army. Both times, she was found. The first time she’d attempted cutting, but her boyfriend, at the time, found her and called 911. The second time she attempted was with pills and alcohol after she’d watched a soldier stand on a land mine. That was the explosion that caused the chronic pain in her arm. Mara found her, foaming at the mouth and took her to the hospital.

Catra narrowed her eyes in thought. Adora had also said if she ever attempted again, she wouldn’t leave it as long, it'd be quick, instant. Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Catra inhaled sharply. "She’s gonna jump,"

~

“Catra, go over there and sort this out,” Scorpia said. Catra growled lowly. “She’s the one who fucked up, not me,” She retorted. Scorpia pushed open the fire escape quietly. "Sounds like you both fucked up. The problem is, you're not the one about to jump," She said. Catra shrugged. "Maybe I should," Scorpia raised her brow, unimpressed. Catra turned back, somehow feeling ashamed. "Scorpia, thank god. I-I-I can't get her down, she's not listening to me," Perfuma sobbed, running into her girlfriend's arms. Scorpia's prosthetic hand shoved Catra forward, making her trip. She whirled with a hiss. "Go and sort this out," The white-haired woman said. She walked back through the fire door, shutting it behind. Catra approached the blonde on the edge of the roof. "Adora?" She called. Adora's shoulders tensed.

“You can’t do this," She stepped closer. Adora chuckled bitterly. "Why not? Everyone hates me anyway," She said back. "I'd be better off dead. No nightmares, no more pain, just peace," Catra stepped closer. Time for a different tactic. "No, I mean be up here in a storm," She tried. Adora's head tilted toward her very subtly. "Or ever. Not when you keep talking about attempting and…” Catra sighed, searching for the right way to say this. “You can’t just kill yourself, Adora."

Adora’s shoulders tensed again with the same anger as before all of this. “I don’t have to listen to whatever you say I can or can’t do. You already made it very clear you don’t care about me," Catra was close enough to grab her now. “I do care about you," She insisted. Adora turned back briefly. Catra shouldn’t have said that. “Then why have you been treating me like shit?” She hissed. “Because I care too much!” There it was… out in the open. “And it terrifies me,"

Adora wrapped her arms around her knees and squeezed herself in response. Catra hesitated before sitting by her side. Adora didn't move, though she remained curled up tightly. Catra steeled herself to ask her question. “Are you okay?” She whispered. Adora tensed. “Is anyone?" She muttered into her legs. Catra knew there was more to it. She had to bite the bullet. Had to know. “Are…" She paused. "Were you going to jump?” Adora was quiet for a long time. Catra strained to stay silent and wait.

“I just..." Adora sniffled. "I feel so alone and…” Adora sobbed a little, “Like I only make things worse." It wasn’t a direct answer, but it might as well have been. Catra’s heart ached. She didn’t miss the present tense either. Catra knew what that felt like, what it did to a person’s mind. What was it still doing to Adora’s? “I’m... sorry for what I said." Catra saw Adora shake a little as if she were fighting back tears, but Catra didn’t stop speaking. “I was awful and cruel. I- I was hurting, and I wanted to make you hurt, and I know that's no excuse, but I... I dunno...” She trailed off. "I was an ass, and you didn't deserve any of it," She mumbled into her legs, having pulled them up tightly.

Whatever hold Adora had over her emotions was fraying. She suddenly pushed away, swinging her legs to the other side.

Or she tried to.

The crappy knee-high stone around the edge of the roof cracked and gave way. Adora dropped, a terrified scream ripping from her throat. Catra grabbed the back of her coat. "Adora, hold on!" She yelled. The rain poured thicker now, making it hard to maintain a grip. "I'm trying!" She screamed back, desperately trying to find purchase on the wall. "I don't wanna die, Catra," She sobbed. "You're not. I'm not letting you go!" Catra yelled down. "SCORPIA!" She screamed, her voice cracking painfully. The fire door swung open. "Shit!" Scorpia ran at them, stopping at the ledge. "Help me!" Catra yelled, straining against the jacket. It began to rip. Adora dropped some more. Her fingers scratched at the wall frantically as her tears streamed from her eyes. Scorpia leaned over. "Give me your hand!" She yelled. Adora strained. "I-I can't reach!" Catra's brain dinged with an idea. "Your leg! Take it off and use that!" She yelled over the thundering rain. Adora's eyes cleared briefly as she unhooked her prosthetic leg and launched it up. Scorpia grabbed it. "Hold on!" She tugged powerfully, bringing Adora over the wall with an ungrateful thud.

She immediately scrambled into Catra's arms, sobbing furiously. Catra grabbed her back equally as tightly, frantically rubbing her shoulders, both grounding her and Adora. "I know that was scary, but you two have to get out of the rain. It's getting worse," Scorpia held a jacket over the trio as she spoke. “I- I- I can't w- walk," Adora stuttered. Catra looked at the broken leg. "Use us, we'll help," She said. With Scorpia's muscles, they managed to get into the stairwell and away from the rain. Catra tried to push away, to lead Adora back to the room, but her grip was iron. Her face was slack.

Sheila started hissing things into her ear again, but she resoltely ignored her, stepping in behind Perfuma, who was holding the door open. Catra diverted to the kettle on the side and began boiling a cup of chamomile tea, something her therapist had suggested. She grabbed two cups out of the cupboard, functioning on autopilot, while Scorpia and Perfuma helped deal with the shell-shocked blonde.

Catra poured the boiled water into the cups and seriously debated pouring it onto her face. It’s not like she didn’t deserve the pain. Fuck, her fucking mouth had nearly caused someone to fucking kill themselves… so… yeah… great fucking day for Catra.