Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Catra had learned early on in life that monsters were real. Like most kids though, she had thought they would be easy to spot, with grotesque features and unnatural airs not typically seen on the varied people of their world. She had believed that good guys always won, slew the monster, and saved the fair princess and the day.

All these illusions were shattered in one fell swoop. Monsters could be ordinary-looking people down the street, the good guys too weak to strike them down. The monster could disappear without a trace after committing their heinous misdeeds. The princess could die.

She just wishes she hadn't learned this lesson the hard way.

Years of therapy with a strong support structure helped. Catra had taken a long time to accept the knowledge that there was nothing she could have done. They were only ten, struggling against a monster in the guise of an adult. An adult who never hesitated to inflict violence on those too weak to defend themselves. Her mothers had comforted her as best they could with the fallout, offering the advice that sometimes bad people do bad things for no reason other than that they can.

None of that knowledge helped soothe the pain of memories. Could not fill the void in the magicat's heart as she went through the scant few photos she had. Finally able to see the pain in the gray-blue eyes now, hidden behind a gap-toothed smile from a lost blonde.

Adora died when they were ten, ripped from this world with nothing left behind but memories of her. Catra knew she would bear the scars- emotional, mental, and physical- forever.

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He was young when he learned not to trust the world. Just over two when a hole was ripped into his heart and life, leaving him as half a person. At first, he couldn't understand what happened. One moment things were fine, the next the hollowness settled in, a creeping, lingering sensation. All that he knew of that time was one day he was a set, playing freely in the innocence of youth. The next day he was alone, clutched tight to his mother's side in public, kept from stranger's eyes.

Adam kept a collection of photos by his bed. there were only three, each featuring a set of golden children one year after the next. There is a hidden folder on his laptop, which he started when he first learned how to manipulate pictures. These images would be enough to finish breaking his parents' fragile hearts if they were ever to be discovered, but he couldn't help but continue making them.

In these photos, that bright-eyed little girl didn't stop aging at two. For every year that he lived, there was an edited photo turning Adam into Adora. It was a secret hobby, something his therapist would probably deem unhealthy. He knew it would cause so many questions amongst other things if his peers were to ever discover it. But, he was born to be part of a matched set. So what was he supposed to do as the only piece left?

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For so long all she knew was pain, fog, and longing. It was an empty longing, for something she couldn't remember. There was a lot she couldn't remember. Some things she thought she was glad to forget, with the living nightmare that was her life. Other things, the ones that left an echo in her heart, made her sad. Even though they weren't there anymore didn't mean those memories hadn't left a mark.

Her monster had taken so much more from her than her memories. It had taken her childhood, sense of security, sense of self, and anything else it could dig its claws into and rip out. Her soul felt tattered and wispy, gossamer on a grave.

She didn't know what had saved her. One day had been like the next. Drifting through the state of surviving, unsure what the point was. She didn't even have the energy to hope for something different. Then one day, the last day she could take, she had yet again done something to instill disappointment and suffered the consequence of failure. That was when she finally decided enough was enough. Some inner core part of her knew that she either left now or she would die there, lost to the hands of the monster.

She waited for her warden to go to bed, huddled in the dark listening for sounds of slumber for eternal minutes. Once she deemed it safe enough she grabbed the only thing in her world that she felt was important- an old stuffed tiger with a cat pendant on its collar- and set off. She couldn't remember why this toy was essential to her, just that the charm gave her a sense of love and the tiger made her feel complete. This guardian had been with her forever, hidden in bags and holes for protection and she refused to lose them now.

Nothing else was needed for her freedom. Into the dark night she traveled, trees surrounding her and nothing to indicate which way led to safety. Though, any route was safer than back in that house. So for hours, she traveled, bound in a straight line, determination pushing her until at last she broke free. She was delirious by the time someone found her. She was also happy, freedom finally within her grasp even as she was barraged with questions on the way to the hospital. She could only answer one thing, the only thing she knew fully to be true.

"Adora. I'm Adora."