A/N: Sorry for the delay, I've been having a weird time with writer's block and mental health stuff as of late, and this is kind of a strange chapter structurally so it wasn't easy to write. I hope it's not hard to read though, because this is another chapter with actual football in it. As with chapter 1, it's mostly about what's going on between the plays and I've done my best to make the gameplay easy to follow without making it stale or over-explainy. There's some helpful information below for those who don't know anything about football.
Next chapter we're back to non-gameplay stuff: Catra's perspective of this chapter's climax and the ensuing consequences. In the meantime please enjoy Adora managing to be both pretentious and insecure, as she does so very well. There's also a couple of meme references and several hat tips to funny moments in canon, so it should be a good time even if this chapter is a hot mess (just like its protagonist).
Glossary: "the red zone" refers to the area between a team's goal line and twenty yard line, the last twenty yards they can defend before a touchdown is scored against them.
Very basic football gameplay that will be useful: a team has four plays (a.k.a. downs) to move the ball ten yards forward. If they succeed they get a new first down (i.e. a fresh set of four plays) and if they fail the other team gets a turn playing offense. Usually if teams are too far away to kick a field goal, they will punt (kick the ball) on the fourth down to get the ball as far away from their goal as possible, voluntarily sacrificing possession of the ball for a better defensive position. If they're very close to getting that ten yards they will sometimes risk trying to push the ball forward to get a first down instead of punting.
"Good evening football fans, and welcome to the Halloween SPOOKtacular!" calls the PA announcer. "Tonight your Thaymor Rams play host to the Fright Zone Horde in the final game of the season. It's the last game for your seniors, so make some noooooiiiiise!"
The packed bleachers explode with cheers and horn blasts, stomping feet echoing around the field. As the bedlam dies down, Adora leans in towards Scorpia and remarks under her breath, "They're sure rowdy for a team that's 2-7."
As she says it, it occurs to her that probably half of Thaymor is here because there's not much else to do in a backwater town on a Friday night. Other than maybe get drunk or high and dare each other to roam around the supposedly haunted woods between here and the city. That's the kind of thing normal teenagers do, right?
Feeling her co-captain's eyes on her, Adora turns her head to find Scorpia peering down at her curiously. "Some people like football just for fun, you know," says Scorpia.
"Fun?" scoffs Adora. "I don't know her."
Okay, it's not that football isn't fun for Adora. She enjoys it, at least when the team is doing well and she isn't fucking up. But how can anyone play a game and not care if they suck?
To be fair, it's not the Rams' fault that they suck. In addition to the small pool of players to pick from, their program is severely underfunded. Thaymor High doesn't even have a proper football field, just a multipurpose field with combo soccer goals/field goal uprights and rusty bleachers on wheels. Fright Zone High doesn't have a fancy stadium like Bright Moon does but at least they have permanent stands and uprights, and a fieldhouse so they don't have to change inside the school like they do at Thaymor. That shit reminds Adora of middle school.
"Ah, that's our cue," says Scorpia, nudging Adora's arm and pointing across the field at the pair of players crossing the sideline on the Thaymor side.
As she and Adora follow suit, the announcer continues, "Meeting at center field for the coin toss are Rams captains number thirty-nine Reed Turner and number forty-eight Angus Brown, and Horde captains number twelve Adora Grayson and number seventy-nine Scorpia Say… Say-modge-low-icks."
Scorpia snorts as they continue their approach. Her last name is pronounced 'sa-moy-wo-vitch' but no announcer at an away game has ever managed to say it correctly.
"Wow, he didn't even get one syllable right," remarks Adora. "Is that a new record?"
Scorpia shakes her head. "Believe it or not, I've heard worse."
Adora frowns. "How long would it take him to Google that shit? Saying people's names is kind of his job."
"But what's the fun in that?" mutters Scorpia. Adora squints curiously, trying to gauge Scorpia's expression past her facemask. Rolling her eyes with an ironic chuckle, Scorpia explains, "People get a kick out of butchering Polish names. It's a hot European pastime."
"We're not in Europe," says Adora.
"Thank god." As they arrive at center field, Scorpia's tight lips suddenly split in a grin as her voice and expression turn cheery. "Hey, guys!" she greets the captains with a wave. "Lovely day for a game, eh?"
All familiar foes, the four of them exchange pleasantries and shake hands. Well, everyone but Adora exchanges pleasantries. Adora can only bring herself to nod mutely in the face of the bane of her existence. Reed Turner is at least five foot eight, broad-shouldered, and has these magnetic, sparkling blue eyes that make Adora's look a dull gray in comparison. Adora has never been able to look her in the eye without blushing and stuttering like a damn idiot. And unfortunately, since Thaymor's one of the closer schools geographically within their regional league, they play each other twice a year. Adora's kind of relieved this is the last chance she'll have to be a gay disaster in front of the second prettiest girl she's ever met.
Stepping in, the ref says, "Okay, you all know the drill. Fright Zone, make your call."
Clearing her throat, Adora manages to say, "Tails."
He tosses the coin high in the air and steps back, letting it land on the grass. Peering over to check, he announces, "Tails it is. Ball or goal?"
"We'll receive," says Scorpia.
Turning to Thaymor, he asks, "Which goal do you want to defend?"
"We'll start moving this way," says Reed, pointing to her right.
"Okay, get your teams on the field in the next two minutes," he concludes before making the appropriate hand and foot signals to indicate the decisions made at center field.
By the time Adora and Scorpia get back, Huntara's gathered the kickoff return team and is giving them a last minute hype up. Catra comes out of the huddle jumping, driving her knees high then bouncing on her toes.
"Excited?" asks Adora, eyebrow cocked high.
"Hell yeah," says Catra. "I'm gonna ram that ball down their throats."
Adora smirks. "I see what you did there."
Catra makes good on her word, returning the kickoff for a touchdown and cementing her place in the state record books: first ever high school player to return a kickoff or punt for a touchdown in every game of the regular season. Adora wouldn't have known that little piece of trivia if Entrapta hadn't pointed it out, to be honest, but she's not gonna tell Catra that.
When Catra skips back to the sideline with the ball tucked under her arm and a massive grin on her face, Adora greets her with a bear hug.
"Yes!" She can feel herself beaming as she leans back a little, lifting Catra's feet off the ground. "I'm so proud of you!"
"I'm proud of me too." Smirking down at Adora, she whacks her chest playfully. "Now put me down, you dummy."
Adora obeys but doesn't entirely relinquish her grip. Her hands slide off Catra's back to rest on her hips as she places her on her feet, giving enough separation for her to really soak in that smile. Even Adora doesn't get to see Catra's smiles that often, not the genuine kind. But when she does see them, sees Catra looking truly happy for a change… god, Catra's smiles could end wars.
But Catra's smile is slipping a little as they continue to hold each other's gaze. Her eyes turn curious, briefly dip down before coming back up. Her mouth opens as if to say something but then snaps shut. Incapable of speech herself, Adora stares back at Catra and screams at her telepathically to say what she's thinking, just on the off chance…
"Ninety-six, the ball."
And just like that, the moment shatters. Adora's shoulders sag, weighted down by disappointment and unanswered questions. Fighting the urge to glare (or scream and throw things), Adora turns to the encroaching official and plasters on the most charming smile she can manage. "Come on, ref, she just set a record. Let her keep it."
Eyes narrowing irritably, he asks, "Do you want to pay Thaymor for the ball, captain?"
"I absolutely will if they ask me to," declares Adora.
"Your funeral, then." Shaking his head, he jogs off to join the other officials as they set up for Kyle to kick the extra point.
An elbow nudging Adora's ribs pulls her attention back to Catra's smile, a sheepish one this time. "Thanks, Adora."
Now it's Adora's turn to smile. "Least I could do."
"Wildcat!" Scorpia bounds toward them, arms thrown wide open for a crushing embrace. Catra tenses up, and Scorpia must notice because at the last second she slams on the brakes, stopping a foot away. Though she looks a little sheepish, her enthusiasm doesn't dampen even one iota as she lifts her hand for a high five. "That was awesome! That spin to break the tackle!"
Even Catra's smuggest smirk can't hide the blush infiltrating her cheeks. "Meh, all in a day's work," she says, reaching up to slap Scorpia's hand. The casualness of her words is severely undermined by how tightly she clings to that ball, but Adora doesn't tease her for it. Let the girl have her moment.
Adora gives them a little space as they continue to chat, turning to watch Kyle do his thing, but in her peripheral vision she sees Catra step in and tuck herself under Scorpia's arm. Scorpia's face lights up as she wraps both around Catra in a gentle hug, and Catra's eyes fall shut with a soft smile, her face relaxing completely as she lingers in the embrace.
Suddenly, Adora can't bear to look any longer. Conflicting emotions clash in her gut as she stares blankly out at the field, seeing nothing.
It's nice to see Scorpia and Catra getting along again, that terrible awkward tension finally gone. And Adora loves seeing Catra happy, regardless of circumstances. But watching Catra now, it's impossible to forget she's still hung up on Scorpia, and that hurts. Adora had wondered about Catra's feelings for Scorpia before, but they were made indisputably clear at the party. You'd have to be blind to miss how upset Catra got when Scorpia showed up with Lonnie, let alone when she saw them kissing and literally ran out of the room. And she only came back after Scorpia went out to comfort her. Scorpia assured Adora and Lonnie that she could handle it, and she was right.
Adora wasn't the best person for Catra then, and she never will be.
"Kickoff team, come on!" Huntara shouts from nearby, shocking Adora out of her thoughts. "Diaz, Samojłowicz, get your rears in gear!"
"Hey, Adora!" calls Catra. Adora blinks over just in time to catch the ball coming for her chest. Looking up as she cradles it instinctively, she finds Catra grinning once again. But there's a softness in her eyes too, one that turns Adora's aching stomach to mush. "Take care of that for me, will ya?"
Adora nods mutely and hugs the ball tighter as she watches Catra trot onto the field. Catra was right about her being a noble knight, she would guard this ball with her very life. But she's no Prince Charming. And that is her burden to bear.
***o***
The game is a blowout, to put it kindly. The outcome is never in doubt from the opening kickoff. The Rams have managed to win a couple games this year but as usual they've languished near the bottom of the standings all season. They have maybe five capable players on defense, and Adora preys expertly on their many weak links.
It's 27-3 by halftime, but the bleachers are still packed with Fright Zone and Thaymor fans alike. Once again, Adora can't help being impressed by Thaymor's school spirit. If the Horde was ever losing this bad they'd lose half the crowd.
As the PA announcer proclaims the start of the costume contest, prompting a louder round of cheers, Catra sidles up to Adora. Nudging her ribs, Catra cracks, "Too bad DT's in uniform today, they'd definitely win."
Adora rolls her eyes at the reminder of her recent humiliation. A couple days ago, on actual Halloween, the cheerleading captain waltzed into homeroom wearing eye black and Adora's varsity jacket, their blonde hair in a poof at least 3 inches above their forehead. There was no doubt who was to blame for the costume, even before Catra started cackling at Adora's horror and embarrassment. DT and Catra have a history of getting into trouble together and trolling the entire world, whenever they're not biting each other's heads off and/or flirting up a storm.
Well, it's mostly DT flirting and Catra not complaining, but it still makes Adora's skin crawl every time she witnesses it. She has plenty of reasons not to like DT, and on Wednesday they certainly added to that list.
DT preened under Catra's approving laughter, chest puffing out further in an attempt to mimic Adora's mannerisms. Maybe they didn't think it was obvious enough who they were dressed as, or maybe they just wanted more attention (probably the latter), because they broke character pretty quickly. Throwing a hand to their chest, they declared in falsetto, "Fear not, mere mortals! It is I, Adora Grayson! Captain of the Horde, savior of the known universe!"
Adora squirmed in her seat, trying and failing to will away the blush in her cheeks. Her voice is not that high, and she doesn't act like that. Does she?
Apparently Catra didn't agree. Pretending to bow down as DT sauntered over, she crowed, "DT! That was Oscar-worthy!"
"Thank you, kitten," purred DT, grinning and hugging the football under their arm tighter to their ribs. They either didn't notice the way Catra stiffened or ignored it completely. Poking the exaggerated hairstyle, they went back into that whiny Adora voice as they asked, "Is the hair poof high enough?"
"Could be higher," Catra answered tersely. "And do not call-"
"Oh my god, I know," groused DT, sinking into their natural deeper tone. "Ruin all my fun." But they regained a bit of their mojo as they focused on Adora, sticking their tongue out and blowing a raspberry at her.
They were definitely wrong about Catra ruining all their fun. In Math class that afternoon, Adora answered a question incorrectly and DT huffed out in a caveman grumble, "Football good, math bad."
The class roared with laughter and Adora almost cried in front of everyone. DT definitely noticed her distress, watching her with a smug smirk and delighted eyes. Maybe they don't know about her learning disabilities, maybe it was just a dumb jock joke, but Adora had half a mind to punch that smirk right off their face. But that would have only proven the joke true and reinforced the whispers among the senior class that Adora's a total spaz, so she forced herself to laugh along with the joke, prove to DT and everyone else that she could take it. She's supposed to be strong enough, confident enough to withstand a little teasing.
Still, Adora can't help wishing Catra wasn't in AP Math so she would've been around to put DT in their place. Catra doesn't usually stand for anyone making fun of Adora… not unless they're mocking her ego, apparently.
Catra doesn't really think Adora's that full of herself, does she?
"It wasn't that funny," grumbles Adora.
"Oh come on, Adora, it was hilarious!" insists Catra, slinging an arm around her neck. "You should've seen your face! You were like, 'Oh, no! Betrayal!'" She presses the back of her hand to her forehead and pretends to swoon.
Adora huffs, shoving Catra away, but she can't help smiling a little at her antics. Shaking her head, she mutters, "I still can't believe you stole my jacket."
"Borrowed, without permission," Catra corrects her. "And it was for a good cause."
"What," snorts Adora, "your own amusement?"
"Precisely." Catra grins brightly and Adora can't find it in herself to be mad anymore. Unfortunately, it's not quite so easy to soothe the hurt feelings festering under her smile.
Instead of walking all the way back to their changeroom for halftime, the Horde regroups behind the bleachers on their side of the field to talk things over. There's not much to discuss. They're executing their plan brilliantly, minus the one field goal allowed, and Sergeant Cobalt encourages them to keep it up.
The implied order to show no mercy makes Adora squirm with guilt and discomfort, but she understands the need for it. They're tied with Bright Moon in the standings and the tiebreaker is point differential, so they need to run up the score. It's not going to help their reputation of being an unsportsmanlike team one bit, but it's not like the Royals are going to hold back over that same concern. They're a rich kid team, not a bunch of ruffians from the wrong side of the tracks. No one will accuse them of being unsportsmanlike.
Unfortunately, things start to unravel the Horde's first possession of the quarter. 'Things' being Adora, in particular.
It all starts when Thaymor surprises them with a blitz of attackers on the first play, overwhelming their offensive linemen. Adora sees it coming immediately off the snap and looks around for someone to dump the ball off to before she gets sacked, but she isn't fast enough. She hears the footsteps at the last second and turtles, protecting the ball as a body hits her from behind. She groans as she hits the ground, despite only her pride being hurt. They lost at least five yards on the play, not a great way to start the half.
The pressure eases off her back and Adora sighs, turning over. A pair of sparkling sapphire eyes stares down at her, freezing her on the spot. As she registers that Reed Turner is kneeling over her, straddling her, her mouth and eyes slip wide open. Suddenly, Adora's in less of a hurry to get up.
Reed cocks an eyebrow, looking half teasing and half concerned as she asks, "You okay there, Grayson?"
"Uh… uh huh," mutters Adora, nodding and averting her eyes as she feels a blush coming on.
"Articulate as always," chuckles Reed, her expression unreadable. Standing up, she offers a hand that Adora grudgingly takes, hauling the quarterback to her feet with ease. Their eyes lock again mid pull and Adora absently wonders how far this girl could throw her, given the chance.
Adora immediately catches and scolds herself, squeezing her fists and eyes shut in an attempt to focus. That resolve lasts one whole second, until Reed slaps her on the ass as she trots off to her own huddle. Adora's left staring after her slack-jawed, trying not to let her brain melt.
Rattled by both the sack and the slap, Adora stutters out the next play call in the huddle and proceeds to overthrow Catra by a mile. Thankfully there's a stoppage in play afterwards due to an injury on the field, giving her a chance to grab some water and try to get her head on straight. So to speak.
If hot girls could just stop slapping Adora's ass in the middle of games, maybe she could actually function. She knows it's a thing in football and it's her problem she can't react like a normal human being, but still. Is the fucking universe out to get her?
"Keep it in your pants, Adora."
Catra's voice shocks Adora out of her thoughts and she jumps, head whipping around. Catra's standing there with her hands on her hips, clearly disappointed and extremely annoyed. Adora swallows dryly as Catra reaches out, smacking her on the side of the helmet. "Come on, get your head in the game."
"I'm fine," says Adora, but she can't look her in the eye. Knowing she's been caught with her mind in the gutter fills her with shame, and not just for the usual reasons. Catra being the one to call her on it, when Catra's the person she really wants… it almost feels like she's been caught cheating on Catra. Which is stupid because she and Catra are not together, that's for damn sure.
Catra scoffs. "You look like a tomato. God, if the scouts find out all it takes to incapacitate you is a pretty girl touching your butt we're all doomed."
Pinching her forehead through her mask, Adora groans, "Catra, please."
"I mean I know you're a virgin, but I didn't think you were such a desperate one."
A cut off growl bursts through Adora's lips and she snaps, "Unless you're offering to help with that, shut the fuck up."
Oh no.
Adora is frozen stiff, eyes bulging as she watches Catra react to the worst thing she could have possibly said. Poor impulse control or not, that should never have come out of her mouth. Catra, for her part, appears equally shocked by Adora's lapse in judgment (and general decency). It takes several long, agonizing seconds for her to respond.
"Help?" she finally says, weight rocking back onto her heels. Her gloved hands wind in the hem of her jersey as her eyes flick away and then back to Adora. "You mean like set you up with someone?"
Adora should be relieved. She should. Crisis averted, right? But maybe she didn't want to avert it after all. Maybe that needed to come out. Fact is, either Catra's willfully misinterpreting Adora's words or she finds the concept of being with Adora so disgusting and bizarre that the actual meaning is incomprehensible. Either way, Adora's stomach is left aching, the cold rush of rejection washing over her brain and down her spine.
"Forget it," she mutters, shaking her head tersely. "Let's just play football."
When they get back out there for the third down, the plan is to throw a long pass. Sixteen yards is a lot to make up in one running play. But the intended receiver is covered. Even Catra is being guarded decently on the play, but Adora can barely bring herself to look at her anyway. When she spots a gap opening in the defensive line, Adora surprises herself by darting through and taking off.
Adora doesn't run the ball a lot herself. She doesn't usually need to, and Grizzlor rarely calls for Adora to pull a quarterback sneak on purpose. She's a gifted athlete, but that doesn't change the fact that she's 5'5 and 140 pounds soaking wet, and too valuable an asset to risk getting injured. That doesn't stop Catra and other players from giving Adora shit about being a sissy, like it's her fault she needs to stay healthy. But they're wrong. Adora is full to the brim with aggression, aggression that is currently boiling over. Besides, it's her fault they're 3rd and 16. She needs to fix it herself.
Reed comes flying at Adora from the side and Adora braces herself, leaning into the contact and bouncing off the girl before she can wrap her up. Spinning away, Adora scans the field. Thankfully her receivers running long has opened up a bit of space for her. She jukes around another linebacker, the only other player in the vicinity, and keeps running.
The third linebacker moved downfield initially but must have picked up on the change of plan pretty quickly, because he's now charging Adora's way. He's right around the 1st down marker and closing in on her, so she needs to get by him - she can't just slide on the ground to avoid the tackle, as quarterbacks often do. He's big but not that quick, so she fakes to her right with her eyes and the ball before sidestepping to the left. Unfortunately he doesn't take the bait, slamming right into her. Adora struggles in his grip, pushing forward determinedly to pick up as many inches as possible before he finally wrestles her to the grass.
Several whistles blow nearby as Adora lands on her back, their urgent tweets demanding immediate disengagement. The linebacker ignores them, lightly shoving off of Adora as he stands with a scowl. As he starts to walk away, Lonnie steps into his path and bumps him slightly on the way by.
"Hey, watch yourself, asshole," she warns him, despite hardly being of an intimidating stature herself. Turning to Adora, she offers a hand up.
Adora scowls and gets up on her own. It's nothing personal against Lonnie, but Adora doesn't need a bodyguard. And it's not like she deserves the help when she failed to get the first down anyway.
As Adora jogs back to the sideline, she hears Huntara bark, "Okay, short yardage team, let's go!"
"No," orders Cobalt, stepping in. "Punt it."
Huntara's meaty fists land on her hips, an annoyed quirk to her lips. "Sarge, you know we can get that first down," she argues.
"And if we don't, we're handing them the ball in our red zone," he counters. "If we give up a touchdown to the Rams I'm firing every one of you and myself. Punt the ball."
Adora fumes quietly under her helmet as she stands on the sidelines watching the ensuing play. At herself for fucking up so badly. At Cobalt for robbing her of a chance to fix it. At Catra for not loving her back. At herself for thinking about this shit instead of football, again. She's a terrible quarterback and an even worse person.
"Hey." Lonnie's voice breaks Adora's latest spiral, a warm and heavy arm wrapping around her shoulders. "You okay?"
Adora nods. It's not like she can tell Lonnie what she's actually thinking. They don't have time to unpack all that.
"God, what's that guy's problem?" grouses Lonnie.
"I mean, we're embarrassing them in front of their own fans," Adora reasons. "I'd be pissed too."
"Still no need for that kind of shit. That should've been a penalty."
Adora shrugs noncommittally, though she agrees with Lonnie if she's being honest.
A new round of whistles sound out on the field as the Thaymor punt returner is brought down. While the Horde's defense huddles up, Catra runs off the field and straight to her roommates.
"What the hell, Adora?" she demands, ripping off her own helmet as she crosses the sideline. Her brow is pinched in what looks to be a mix of confusion and anger. "What was that? Why didn't you just slide?"
"Because I knew I didn't have the first down," Adora says flatly. "And despite popular belief, I'm not a sissy quarterback."
Catra falters, her face softening slightly. "Adora, I'm just teasing when I say things like that," she assures her. "You don't need to prove anything to me."
Adora blinks impassively. "Maybe I needed to prove it to myself."
"Prove it to yourself in a playoff game, then," says Catra. "There's no need to play hero in a blowout."
Lonnie's arm tugs Adora tighter into her side, giving her a small fraternal shake. "Don't sweat it, Adora. We all know you're a tough cracker."
Squinting at her, Adora asks, "Don't you mean tough cookie?"
"Naw," Lonnie replies slyly, patting her on the shoulder, "I mean tough cracker."
Adora can't help chuckling at that. Even in her worst moods, she appreciates a good dad joke. "Well played."
"I thought so." Clapping the top of Adora's helmet hard enough to make her startle and wince, Lonnie adds, "Now cheer up. We've got tons of possessions to go. Lots of chances to humiliate that fucker."
Lonnie is right, of course. Their next two possessions end in touchdowns, bringing the score to 41-3. Humiliating doesn't even begin to cover it.
The third quarter is nearly over when the Horde gets the ball once again. Adora marches them methodically down the field, not opting for any long passes. At this point they need to practice their plays more than they need to run up the score, no matter what Cobalt says. She really is trying to be sportsmanlike. And she's minding her own fucking business when it happens again.
It's that same fucking linebacker. It's not even a blitz, he seems to decide to go after Adora on his own. The guy comes out of nowhere, breaking through a gap in the offensive line while Adora's busy scoping out Catra near the sideline, and she barely even sees him before he's grabbed her by the jersey. Lifting her off her feet, he picks her up and stuffs her headfirst into the ground.
Adora doesn't exactly have time to react. Clinging to the ball with her right arm, she instinctively extends her left to break the fall. Bad idea. When her hand hits the ground it gets caught at an awkward angle under her body as she falls on top of it. Pain shoots up Adora's arm and she cries out, grabbing her jammed wrist.
"Just stay down, Horde scum!" the linebacker growls, standing over her.
Panting and clutching her wrist, Adora stares up at him through blurry eyes, his flushed face briefly coming into focus between waves of tears. The pain and shame in his eyes is something she knows well, and can't blame him for at all. He showed her exactly as much mercy as her team has shown his, and she's the engine behind the trainwreck.
This is exactly what Adora was trying to tell Catra on Tuesday. Win or lose, it always comes back to the quarterback.
Their staring showdown is snapped when a body suddenly hits the guy from behind, sending him sprawling on his stomach. All Adora sees is a blur of green and white and a bushy mass of brown hair.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" shouts Catra.
Wincing, Adora rolls onto her side in an attempt to follow the action. Catra is holding the guy down with a knee in his back, pretty impressive given he's twice her size. Adora can't help staring, mouth slipping open behind her mask as she watches Catra put him in a chokehold. "Don't fucking touch her, you piece of shit!"
Oh, wow. That's… that's something.
The linebacker tries to get up under Catra's weight but she kicks the back of his knee, forcing him back down, and that especially vicious action snaps Adora out of her trance. This is bad.
"Catra!" she shouts, trying and failing to keep her voice from cracking with tears. "Let him go!"
Rogelio jumps in, ripping Catra off the guy and holding her back while she screams at him to get off of her. Adora sees Lonnie jump into the fray too, grabbing Catra by the shoulders and trying to talk her down. Unable to hear over the roar of the crowd and the blood rushing in her ears, Adora falls onto her back again and lets her eyes slip shut with a whimper.
The world goes in and out of focus for what could be five seconds or fifty. Adora feels people kneeling down near her, hears concerned voices, but nothing breaks through her haze of agony until she hears the sharp tweets of the ref's whistle. She cranes her neck to find him, just in time to catch his verdict. He signals roughing the passer on the defense and a personal foul on the offense, jerking his thumb up and over his shoulder after the latter to signal an ejection.
Great, so now they've lost both Adora and Catra. Fucking peachy.
Catra doesn't even argue with the ref throwing her out, just walks calmly to Adora's side and crouches beside her. "Hey, Adora?" She squints apprehensively, peering down into Adora's hazy eyes. "Adora!" When Adora acknowledges her with a dazed nod, she sighs in relief and pats her on the chest pad. "You okay?"
Adora shakes her head, not daring to speak again. She can barely keep herself from crying as it is, little whimpers forcing their way past her lips.
"Don't worry, we're gonna take care of you, okay?" When Adora manages another nod, Catra slips one hand under her shoulders and grasps her arm with the other. "Think you can sit up?"
Once Adora's up on her butt, she blinks her vision clear and takes in a few more details. The team's trainer is kneeling on her other side, a few other Horde players looking on in concern. An incoming green jersey catches her eye and she blinks up as the encroaching Ram stops in front of her.
Crouching down, Reed touches the top of Adora's helmet with a grimace. "Sorry, Adora. That wasn't cool," she says. Adora appreciates the sentiment but is even less capable than normal of forming a sentence, so she just nods. Looking on in concern, the Thaymor captain offers, "You need help?"
"I've got her," Catra hisses, grip tightening on Adora's shoulders.
Reed raises her hands innocently, eyebrows arching as her eyes dart between them. "Okay, okay. Didn't realize, my bad."
Adora is too dazed to comprehend what Reed is talking about, but she could swear she hears Catra growl as Reed taps her on the helmet once more before walking away.
Catra and the trainer help Adora to her feet and she walks off the field under her own power, still holding her wrist. She's acutely aware of Catra's fingertips on the small of her back the whole time, the touch comforting in both its gentleness and firmness. Vaguely, she registers the audience clapping.
She wishes they wouldn't. She hasn't done anything worth applauding.
A/N: Hi I'm Jo and I like sports. Honestly though we're back to the regular fare next chapter, with some quality hurt/comfort if I do say so myself. ;)