A/N: Who's ready for some Adora POV? This chapter's a little longer to accomodate our first extended flashbacks!

No major content warnings apply... this chapter is heart-breaking on multiple levels but not especially traumatic, at least not compared to the first two.


Nose wrinkling as she slowly comes to, Adora groans and turns her face into the mattress, straightening her cramped neck. It's far from the most bothersome sensation in her body at the moment, but at least it's easily remedied. She doesn't usually sleep on her stomach, but she didn't have much of a choice last night. The best she could do was knock herself out with some numbing potion, keep her weight off her back and hope for the best. Gritting her teeth, she whimpers as her eyes flutter open and the pain hits her full force. It's even worse than yesterday.

Usually the wounds she sustains as She-Ra begin to heal when she transforms back, if not sooner. But these ones are different. The injury baffled the healers when Glimmer and Bow literally dragged her to the infirmary last night after she nearly passed out while trying to remove her jacket. Far from healing, the gashes in her back were inflamed and starting to fester. Adora answered question after question as the healers tried to deduce the cause of the uncharacteristic infection. No, she wasn't sick to begin with. No, she doesn't have a history of injuries like this. No, Catra's not a magical creature. She hates magic, for good reason.

Frustrated with the endless questioning, Adora supplied her own theory. Maybe it had something to do with her close connection to her assailant. Light Hope had said that thing about Mara being weakened by her relationships, so maybe it had something to do with that. The healers exchanged an awkward glance and said they'd ask Castaspella about it when she arrived in the morning. Mystacor has more information on She-Ra and the First Ones than any other kingdom. Thankfully they left it at that and sent her away with fresh bandages and a potion for the pain.

Said pain is threatening to drive her from her bed to go find more of this potion, but she knows moving at all is going to hurt even more. Besides, she hates going to see healers. There was always a certain stigma attached to that in the Horde. They may have had an infirmary, but most soldiers avoided it like the plague. One time Lonnie broke a finger in a fist fight and didn't seek treatment, didn't even realize it was broken until it started to heal funny. At that point, it was break it again or let it stay that way. Lonnie chose the former because even minor disfigurement was frowned upon as well. The Horde's unspeakably injured soldiers all seemed to disappear into background jobs, never to be seen again. They would never cast anyone out, of course, but reminders of the horrors of war would dampen morale. Adora refused to sneak around past curfew with Catra anymore after the time they came across a night janitor without a face. She gave the tween girls what appeared to be a sad look as Adora dragged Catra away with a shriek.

Catra didn't seem scared. In fact, once they were out of earshot she pulled Adora aside and scolded her for being mean. Adora balked and insisted she couldn't help it, and Catra rolled her eyes. Her weird, beautiful eyes that got her so much grief. That's when Adora understood, and apologized. But not to the janitor. She was too scared to go back. Catra said she'd do it for her some time.

Those weird, beautiful eyes. Adora exhales and tries to forget. Not the girl she knew, but the girl she knows now. If she concentrates very hard, she can forget the last several weeks. Forget that Catra is the source of her anguish, both emotional and physical. The injury was an accident. Adora's back got burned by a training robot with a malfunctioning laser beam, and Catra's not asleep at her feet because she got up to go get Adora her medicine.

Medicine. Adora groans again, the fantasy falling away. The pain is getting worse, and she's moments away from giving in and getting up when she hears the telltale twinkling sound of teleportation. She turns her head back to see Glimmer appearing at her bedside in a shower of sparkles. "Morning, sleepyhead!"

Bow bursts through her doors a second later, toting a tray. "We brought you breakfast! And more medicine." Oh, thank the First Ones. Adora smiles gratefully as he sets the tray down on her bedside table. Ever the diligent mom friend, he reminds her, "Don't forget, you need to report to the infirmary in half an hour so they can treat your wounds again."

Adora blinks. She was supposed to check back in twelve hours, not eight. Eyes narrowing, she turns her head all the way to the left to look out her window. Seeing the sun high in the sky almost makes Adora panic. She's always been a crack of dawn kind of girl, not that the Horde gave her much choice in the matter. Pushing herself off the mattress, she bites back a yelp as her back arches. Struggling to keep a grimace off her face, she slowly - very, very slowly - twists her hips so she can sit up. The others reach for her in concern but she waves them off. Once she's got her butt firmly on the mattress, she squints up at them. "Why did you guys let me sleep in?"

"Are you kidding?" scoffs Glimmer.

Bow gives Glimmer a look and answers more directly as he hands Adora her medicine. "The healers said you need to rest."

Adora narrows her eyes over the cup at her lips. Downing the disgusting cocktail in one gulp, she shakes her head. "No, what I need is to find a way to heal the Whispering Woods so the Horde can't attack us again." Wincing as she stands, Adora fishes in her hip pocket for her hair tie. "She-Ra fixed the runestones, I'm sure she can fix the woods." When she automatically starts to raise her hands to gather her hair, a cry of pain rockets out of her lungs before she can stop it.

Exchanging a glance with Bow, Glimmer wordlessly takes the hair tie and moves behind Adora. "Maybe She-Ra can do that," Bow agrees gently as Glimmer does her ponytail. "But Adora can barely get out of bed."

Her head shakes sharply. "Adora doesn't matter."

"What?" As Adora brushes by him on the way to her wardrobe, Bow protests, "Adora, slow down. You're gonna hurt yourself."

"I'm fine," she assures him as she digs out her sword, smiling at the powerful feeling she gets just from touching the hilt. That sense of power can remedy just about anything, except for apparently these special wounds on her back. And her broken heart.

Glimmer slaps a hand against the side of the blade as Adora starts to lift it. "No, you're very much not fine."

"Guys, stop it," snaps Adora. "Seriously. I've trained through worse injuries in the Horde."

Glimmer's eyes bulge. "And you think that's a good thing?"

"That's not the point. I can handle working through pain, and if I can help then I'll gladly do it." Sheathing the sword, Adora wraps the strap around her waist so she doesn't have to reach all the way over her shoulder just to summon She-Ra. She doesn't bother with her jacket for similar reasons.

As Adora secures the sheath's buckle on her hip, Glimmer mutters, "This is so messed up."

"What is? Putting the greater good above my own needs?" Adora crosses her arms defensively and glares down at her currently very annoying friend. "I was raised as a soldier, not a princess. If I thought the way you do, I never would've left my best friend behind to join your rebellion."

Fists tightening at her sides, Glimmer shoots Adora a withering glare and teleports out of the room. As the last sparkles fade in her wake, Bow clears his throat. "That was a little harsh."

He's right. Adora usually makes a point of being kind to people, especially her friends. But right now she hurts inside and out and is exhausted despite the long sleep she just had, and she's much more irritable than usual. And admitting she's wrong has never been easy for her. Avoiding his gaze, she mutters, "Not everyone gets raised in the lap of luxury, Bow. Even I had it better than a lot of people in the Horde."

Bow must see the glint of sadness in her eyes. Hand cupping her shoulder, he asks, "Like Catra?"

Adora sighs. "Yeah. Like Catra."

Her fingers graze the sword's hilt and he interjects, "Can you at least eat before you go out there and wreck yourself? You have to go to the infirmary anyway, save your She-Ra-ing for after."

"They'll just tell me to go back to bed. Trust me, I'm fine, I don't need a check up." But she does swipe a pastry off her tray to satisfy Bow… and because she is admittedly pretty hungry. Can't perform well on an empty stomach, that's what Shadow Weaver always used to say. Pushing that thought aside, Adora grimaces as she manages to lift her sword to shoulder height. Mouth full of flaky goodness, she gets out a muffled, "For the honor of Grayskull!"

It's good enough. Adora feels her muscles bulging, flesh and bones stretching as she rises off the floor, settling into her new form. It's not nearly as weird and disorienting as it used to be. Shoving the rest of the pastry in her mouth, she heads for the door.

She and Bow have taken maybe ten steps down the hall when Queen Angella rounds the nearest corner, making them freeze in their tracks. Glimmer and a pair of guards follow close behind her. "And just where do you think you're going, young lady?" she demands as Glimmer stops beside her, wearing a scowl that Adora reflects right back at her.

"To the infirmary, ma'am," Adora answers with a straight face.

Angella raises an unconvinced eyebrow. "As She-Ra?"

"I heal faster as She-Ra."

"I see." Angella gestures beyond her and Bow. "You do know the infirmary is that way, right?"

Adora's shoulders fall with a sigh. There's no point continuing to bullshit. Glimmer's already narced on her anyway. "Your Majesty, I want to serve the rebellion, like I said the day I pledged my sword to you. I can't do that while lying around in the infirmary."

"There's nothing you can do right now," Angella assures her. "We're not under attack, and Casta is working on a protection spell to shield us until the woods can recover."

Eyes roaming around the hallway, Adora shifts her weight. "Please, I can't stand lying around not helping. I need to do something." She perks up at a new thought. "She-Ra's great at lifting things. I can help with the rebuilding effort, if nothing else."

"And reopen those gashes?" sighs Angella. "No. You need to heal your own wounds before you can heal anything else."

"But Your Majesty-"

"No buts. Go to your room and rest, Adora. That's an order."

Adora's nails dig into her palm but she nods curtly, eyes on the floor. If there's anything she's good at, it's following orders. Angella sends her away with a promise to send the healers up to treat her in her room. Adora waits until the doors close behind Bow and Glimmer to react, hurling the sword into the opposite wall with a frustrated yell. The movement makes her wounds scream in protest, but it's worth it.

"Adora!" Bow's shocked voice rings through the room and she turns to meet his gaze, breathing heavily from emotion more than exertion. Bow and Glimmer begin to close in on her, concern plain as day on their faces. "What's wrong?"

Feeling She-Ra's power ebbing along with her anger, Adora lets go and allows herself to detransform. Averting her eyes as she shrinks, she wraps an arm across her stomach and grabs above her elbow. "This is all my fault."

"What?" asks Glimmer, hurrying to her side. "What is?"

"If I'd said something or done something different in that temple…" Adora's head falls into her hands. "All I did was make her more angry. I provoked the attack. I provoked her."

Face darkening, Glimmer practically spits the words, "Adora, that animal is not your responsibility."

"Don't call her that," snaps Adora, stepping back in disbelief. "You sound like Shadow Weaver." Scowling at the floor, she mutters, "Aside from the 'not my responsibility' part."

Glimmer's hands fly up. "Why not call it like it is? She's a fucking savage, Adora!"

Stepping between them, Bow starts, "Guys, can we maybe-"

"She almost destroyed my home, she tried to kill my mom," Glimmer continues to rant, cutting him off. "She tried to kill me! She's the one who did this to you! Why are you defending her?"

Adora growls under her breath, on the verge of truly losing her temper. "I'm not defending her."

"Oh, really?"

"Why are you being such an asshole?"

"Guys!" Both girls stop and stare at Bow, who's raised his voice for the first time Adora can ever remember. Bracing a hand against each of their shoulders, he takes a turn looking each of them in the eye. "Can we please take it down a notch? We can discuss this without screaming our heads off."

Adora shuts her eyes and pushes out a slow breath, pulling her shoulders back to stand up tall. Her eyes flick back open and take in a still seething Glimmer. "Look, I'm not defending what she did. All I'm saying is she's a person, not an animal. That's… a sore spot. I assume you haven't spent your whole life being called the freak with the ears." Glimmer's eyes flick away in what appears to be shame, but Adora's not quite done yet. Setting her jaw, she mutters, "And she has a name. You don't have to be so rude."

"Fine," huffs Glimmer, rolling her eyes. But she does make the effort to stay calm as she expresses, "The point I was making is that Catra is not your responsibility. The things she does are not your fault." Her voice and eyes soften further as she holds Adora's gaze. "Really, they're not."

Sighing heavily, Adora sinks down onto the edge of her bed. "I know. I know that."

"But you don't believe it," Bow surmises. Adora gives a glum shake of her head in agreement. "So this is a Shadow Weaver thing?"

Adora scoffs down at her hands. "Everything's a Shadow Weaver thing."

Wiping her clammy palms on her uniform pants, Adora rocked on her heels outside the Black Garnet Chamber, gathering the courage to knock. Shadow Weaver didn't like interruptions, but Adora had a problem that needed solving. And if she couldn't solve it, her mind would stay in hyperdrive and deny her any rest. She knocked. The door slid up and open with a powerful whoosh. "Adora, what a nice surprise."

Adora released a subtle sigh of relief and greeted her commanding officer with a stiff salute. "Shadow Weaver. Do you have a minute?"

"Of course, child. Come in." The door slid shut behind Adora and she locked her fidgeting fingers together as Shadow Weaver looked up from her cauldron. "What's on your mind?"

"I'm worried about Catra," Adora blurted before she could lose her nerve. Catra was usually a sore subject with Shadow Weaver, but Adora needed to do something. Her usual ways of helping Catra weren't working, and she could never stand feeling powerless to help. Not at five, and certainly not at fifteen.

Shadow Weaver's voice hardened. "She's not misbehaving again, is she?"

"No! No, anything but." Adora's knuckles went white as the compulsion to fidget grew stronger. "She's just been acting strange since she got back yesterday."

"Strange?" pressed Shadow Weaver.

"Just… not like herself."

"Is that a bad thing?" It was meant to be a joke, but Adora only frowned. "Adora, I sent Catra to train with the senior cadets so she could see how badly she would fare if she continued her tardy and truant ways. Perhaps she's learned her lesson and is now concentrating on becoming a better soldier."

"I don't think so, she seems pretty out of it." Shadow Weaver's eyes narrowed slightly and Adora quickly clarified, "I don't mean she's being lazy. She'll barely talk to anyone, not even me. She's covered in bruises. I'm worried they might have done something to her. Bullied her, attacked her outside of training."

"Why would they do that?" Shadow Weaver sounded genuinely surprised, and it made Adora's brow crease. This shouldn't have been a large leap to make.

"Because she's different," Adora spelled out. Catra had spent her entire life fending off the older kids who'd corner her in the hallways and taunt her, pulling her tail and mocking her mismatched eyes. If she hissed and unsheathed her claws, that would only make them laugh harder. Usually she just stood there scowling at the floor, swatting away any probing hands but not lashing out for fear of being mocked for her fiery temper as well. Adora didn't mind threatening them with violence, though. Her honor wasn't at stake, and she was universally feared and respected, even by the older cadets.

"It's been going on for years," added Adora, "but usually I'm there to protect her." And comfort her. Those encounters always upset Catra and she'd end up curled up in Adora's lap later with her arms around her neck and tail around her waist, silent tears dripping onto her collarbone. Adora wished she could hold Catra like that now, but she wasn't coming to her for comfort this time.

Shadow Weaver slowly floated closer, pulling Adora from her thoughts. "Catra's not becoming a distraction for you, is she?"

Adora stiffened, fighting to keep her eyes from bulging and giving her away. No, Shadow Weaver couldn't know. They'd been alone in the locker room. Adora was sure of it. She wouldn't have tried it with anyone else around, it'd been nerve-wracking enough as it was. Even more nerve-wracking than this conversation. While Shadow Weaver's tone wasn't exactly threatening, Adora had a feeling someone would suffer for it if she thought this true. Probably Catra. It was always Catra. Keeping her face as blank as possible, she asked, "Distraction, ma'am?"

"You have such potential, Adora," Shadow Weaver gushed, grazing the back of her hand down Adora's jaw. "You need to focus on your own development, not worry about cadets who aren't interested in pulling their weight."

Adora's eyes narrowed slightly. "With respect, Shadow Weaver, you always told me to keep an eye on her. That's what I'm trying to do."

"Yes, and I appreciate your efforts to keep her out of trouble." Adora could hear the deprecating smirk hidden behind her mask when she added, "I know how difficult that can be."

"This isn't a joke," snapped Adora.

The air around them darkened and Adora shot back into a rigid posture. Eyes flashing and hair levitating ominously behind her, Shadow Weaver annunciated each word. "What did you say?"

Adora's heart pounded in her ears. That tone was the same one she'd heard on any of the rare occasions she'd witnessed Shadow Weaver slapping Catra or one of the other cadets. Usually Catra, she was the one who talked back the most. It had never happened to Adora, though. Adora was a good girl. "Nothing, ma'am."

The darkness receded and Adora released a shuddering breath. Reaching in tenderly, Shadow Weaver brushed a loose tendril of hair behind Adora's ear. "You're such a good friend, Adora. She really doesn't deserve you." She gave her cheek a soft pat that contrasted the blow Adora had been expecting seconds earlier. It made her skin crawl. "Go on, now."

"Hey, Adora?" Adora's eyelashes flutter at Glimmer's words. That phrase always sounds weird coming out of anyone else's mouth. Adora hums and raises an eyebrow in acknowledgement, only now registering her friends seated on either side of her. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She swallows and gives her head a shake, meeting Glimmer's eyes. "Sorry I snapped at you."

Glimmer at least has the decency to look embarrassed. She gives Adora's knee a little squeeze and reciprocates. "I'm sorry too."

Adora places a hand over Glimmer's. "I know you guys are just trying to look out for me. And I appreciate it, 'cause I'm not the greatest at looking out for myself."

"You're damn right, you're not." Glimmer grins and slings an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into a hug. "It's okay. You've got a lot to unlearn, but we want to help you."

"That's right," Bow chimes in, joining the hug to make an Adora sandwich. They love doing that, and Adora doesn't mind. It's a little weird learning to accept comfort when you've always prided yourself on being the one who comforts and protects, but Adora's getting better at it. She's found she appreciates the support, even after years of telling herself she didn't need any. Giving her an extra squeeze, Bow reminds her, "We're the best friend squad, we look out for each other."

Adora's face falls. Thankfully Glimmer's head is tucked into her neck, because hurting her feelings again so soon is not something Adora wants. But Bow's words remind her too much of the promise she broke to her best friend. Her real best friend. Worst enemy. Whatever.

Ever since their confrontation in the temple a couple nights ago, Adora's stomach has felt unsettled, to say the least. Catra was so angry and saying all these things Adora didn't understand. Adora never protected her. She didn't need Adora's help. Didn't need her. Didn't want her. It left Adora feeling like she'd been missing something all these years. Catra was supposedly her best friend, but as she turned her back and left her hanging on that cliff face, Adora felt like she didn't know her at all. She hasn't had much time to reflect on it since, what with the battle and all, but the question has continued to eat at her gut this whole time. Where did she go wrong?

Frustrated from her fruitless meeting with Shadow Weaver, Adora snuck glances across the table at Catra as she quietly ate her dinner, barely looking up from her plate. Adora didn't dare ask about the conspicuous bruises on her arms and neck, but she frowned as she considered their potential origins. What kind of training exercise gives you bruises on your neck? Chokeholds, possibly? Yes, that must have been it. That had to be it. The thought of the seniors strangling Catra for the fun of it was too much to bear.

Catra always seemed most alive in the evenings, revved up for some kind of caper she would inevitably drag Adora into. Her internal clock had never entirely adjusted to human hours. But that evening, just like the one previous, Catra opted to retire to the barracks after dinner. Adora went with her because that's what they did. Eyes narrowed in concern, she watched as Catra eased herself down onto the edge of their bunk with a wince that she tried to hide. Heart aching, Adora sat beside her and laid what should have been a comforting hand on her back, but the contact made her flinch. Adora couldn't help her sympathetic grimace. "They really gave it to you, huh?"

"Well, they know what they're doing," Catra mumbled vacantly. "That's why they're senior cadets."

Adora squinted and gave her a bit of sass. "I think it's because they're eighteen, actually."

"Ugh," Catra drew out in an exasperated groan that made Adora smile. Now that, that sounded like Catra. "You're such a nerd."

Pulling her in closer, Adora reached over and rubbed a light noogie into the top of her head. "That's why you like me."

Catra's chuckle was hollow but she barely tried to pull away. "Whatever you say, Adora." Choosing to interpret the mixed signals as good, Adora released Catra's shoulders to run her fingers through her hair. Digging her nails in for a light scratch, she drew out a very quiet purr. Much less of one than usual, but a purr nonetheless. Testing her luck, she slid her fingers back to massage behind Catra's ears. They flicked and perked up initially but then flattened under her touch. Catra sighed. "Don't…"

"Don't what?" When Catra didn't answer, Adora tipped her head so she could see her face better. "Am I hurting you?" A couple seconds passed before Catra swallowed and nodded slightly. Adora quickly lifted her hand and gently slid it down Catra's arm to find her hand, one of the few parts of her that didn't appear to be injured. Hesitating only briefly, she threaded their fingers together and gave her best friend a reassuring squeeze.

A tiny choked sound caught in Catra's throat, just loud enough for Adora to hear. Extricating her hand from Adora's grip, she said, "I need to go."

"What? Why?"

"I left something in the locker room," she muttered, avoiding Adora's gaze as she stood.

"I'll go with you." Adora could hear the desperation in her own voice. It wasn't an offer, it was a plea. Catra shook her head and she resorted to flat out begging. "Catra, please talk to me."

Catra's arms and tail wrapped around herself like they always did when she was uncomfortable. "There's nothing to talk about," she mumbled. "I'm fine."

Adora watched with dismay as Catra exited the barracks without looking back. With no one there to distract her or otherwise disrupt her mental spiral, her brain jumped into overdrive again. It analyzed every detail to death in a desperate search for answers. Catra's injuries, her distant behavior, her reactions to being touched, what happened in the locker room the day before she was sent away. What happened in the locker room.

The realization hit Adora square in the chest, knocking the wind out of her. Catra didn't feel the same way. Catra didn't feel the same way, and now Adora had gone and ruined their friendship. That's why she was acting weird, because Adora was making her uncomfortable, not because of whatever the seniors did to her. Adora kissed her when she didn't want it. Adora was smothering her and not taking a hint. Adora was causing this rift between them. It was all her fault.

"Look, I know it's hard, but let's start with something simple, okay?" Bow's voice pulls Adora back to the moment and she meets his kind eyes. Cupping her face with one hand, he tells her, "Adora matters." Adora snorts, eyes falling automatically, but Bow tips her chin up. Holding her gaze, he insists, "I mean it. You matter. Not what you do, not who you become when you lift that sword. You."

Her eyes suddenly sting with emotion she didn't realize she had on the subject. "Thank you," she whispers around the lump in her throat.

His sweet smile could light up the whole world. "There's tons of people here to help. All the princesses, the Queen, Castaspella. She-Ra doesn't have to do everything on her own. So let's try something for a few days, okay?" Adora humors him with a nod. "Try just being Adora."

A nervous chuckle echoes out of her throat. "I don't know how to just be Adora."

Bow pokes her shoulder with a good-natured smirk. "You haven't even been She-Ra for two months."

"I know, I just…" Adora sighs, knee bouncing as fast as her thoughts. "Before that, I was a soldier. I trained for my cause. I looked out for- for my friends. I don't know what to do if I don't have any responsibility."

"You need to be needed," Glimmer pipes up quietly from behind her. Adora turns and finds Glimmer's expression both empathetic and determined. "I get that," she tells her with a knowing nod. Her forehead creases in thought and her teeth play at the inside of her lip. Adora has to look away. Catra does that as well. "Look, maybe this is a lot to worry about at once," Glimmer says, reclaiming her attention, "but you really need to cut the shit about everything being your fault. I'm not just talking about Catra. You always take everything on, make it your responsibility. The stress is going to kill you one day."

"But it's…" Adora frowns. "It's how I deal with things."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess…" Brow furrowing, she muses, "If something is my fault, I had control over it. It's better to think I failed than to think bad things just happen." Her mouth twitches, eyes falling to her lap. "It's better to be a failure than to be powerless."

Glimmer's chuckle makes her look up with a frown, but the girl's smile isn't derisive in the slightest. "Adora, bad things happen. You're not a god. You don't control the forces of the universe." Adora sighs and starts to run an anxious hand through her hair, hisses as the movement reminds her of her injury. Glimmer clasps her hand in both of hers, stilling her restless fingers. "We're going to work through this together, okay? You'll help again when you can. And in the meantime, please stop blaming yourself. This is not your fault."

Adora takes a deep breath, sees the phrase in her mind, forces it through her lips. "It's not my fault." The words sound strange rolling off her tongue, stilted and contrived. That phrase, that sentiment, it's not in Adora's vocabulary. Saying it feels wrong in so many ways.

Glimmer doesn't seem to agree, based on her smile and the way she grips Adora's hand tighter. "Good! Just practice saying that."

"It'll get easier, I promise," says Bow, squeezing her shoulder approvingly.

"Not my fault," Adora repeats, testing that theory. "Not my fault. Not my fault."

Maybe if she says it enough times, she'll be able to believe it one day.


A/N: Hope you enjoyed. It might be a while before I update again but feel free to come scream at me on Tumblr if you want to talk Catradora feels and/or fucked up childhoods.