A/N: Yikes, I'm sorry this fic has gone so long without an update, but the world has kind of exploded multiple times in the last few months and I'm having a hard time focusing amidst all the chaos. That and I've been busy with irl stuff and also doing more [vidding] recently, plus working through a crazy dramatic arc in Hail Mary. But I'm here now, so let's get into it!
A note on chapter 33: In case it wasn't clear, Catra's flashback (and flashback within the flashback) happened the day/night before the series starts. Which, you know, adds some extra painful context to Catra's goofy and secretly troubled behavior and her fight with Adora in episode 1. I wanted to only hint at it instead of spell it out but as far as I know nobody caught it, so I was probably too subtle about it lol.
CONTENT WARNING for references to physical and emotional child abuse, but nothing graphic, and it's all situations we've already visited.
The sharp scrape of nails against Adora's scalp pulls a deep groan from her throat. Her heavy eyelids refuse to budge, but her other senses start kicking in quickly. The scent of Catra's fur wafts into her nostrils, her heartbeat echoing into her ear. Shoulders relaxing with a sigh, Adora smiles into Catra's ribs and burrows deeper, kickstarting a deep rumble in Catra's chest. Catra's fingers resume their movement in her hair and she hums happily, rubbing her cheek against the soft sheet between them.
Her brain takes its time coming fully online, but as it does Adora starts to pick up other smells. Antiseptic. Blood. The content smile slips from her face and she tilts her head up, squinting her bleary eyes.
Catra flashes a toothy smirk in greeting. "Hey, Adora."
Grunting a vague reply, Adora lifts her free hand to wipe the sleep from her eyes.
Her free hand.
It takes Adora a moment to fully process that her left hand is trapped under her chest, pressed against Catra's flank. That it's still clasped with Catra's, like it was before she… oh.
"Sorry," she mutters, heat prickling her cheeks as she sits up and releases Catra's captive hand. "Didn't mean to fall asleep on you."
"I don't mind," says Catra. Her affectionate smile suggests that's the truth, but it does little to ease Adora's conscience.
"You're injured."
"Yeah, a few inches lower. Don't worry, you weren't hurting me." Catra tugs a little on her sleeve, coaxing her to return.
Adora hesitates a moment, but Catra's smile wears her down. It's clearly what she wants, who is Adora to argue? Besides, Catra's so warm, and her fur makes even the bony protrusions of her ribs nice and comfy…
Chuckling sheepishly, Adora lays her head back down. "Okay."
Her eyes flutter shut again as Catra's fingers wind in her hair, twirling it gently. But now that she's awake and aware of the situation, it's much harder to fully relax. Thumb stroking the fur on Catra's forearm back and forth, she murmurs, "I'm the one who's supposed to be watching over you."
"We're safe here, both of us," Catra assures her. And for once, she really does believe it. They know after yesterday's incident that the sensor network is functional and they can count on backup from the Alliance in case of an attack. Sparkles didn't even try to poof her back to Bright Moon or anything. This is quite possibly the safest Catra's ever felt… in terms of physical harm, at least. Her dreams are a whole other story, muted and muddied as they have been today. She can probably thank the pain medication for that.
"Mm," hums Adora, hopeful but also notably noncommittal. Her nose and eyelids crinkle slightly as she yawns, and Catra's stomach churns with guilt. She's put this girl through so much.
"And I don't suppose you slept all that well last night," she mutters. "I sure didn't, after all that."
Adora inclines her head a little to meet Catra's gaze. "Catra, you literally almost died this morning," she says, her tone uncharacteristically blunt. "We really don't have to talk about this yet. I don't want to put any more stress on you."
"I'm feeling a lot stronger now. And I want to," Catra replies resolutely, even though it's not entirely true. To be completely honest, she's still exhausted despite sleeping away most of the day. And she'd much rather Adora just know how she feels than have to go to the trouble of hashing it out. But talking about things seems to help their relationship as much as anything, at least when they don't accidentally step on some hidden mine in the other's psyche.
Adora's lips pucker slightly, brow creasing in thought, and Catra frowns. "Wait, do you not want to?" she backtracks. That didn't even occur to her; Adora's usually the one who keeps them talking in circles until they're both dizzy. "I mean, I get it. I know we've had some intense conversations. Like a lot of intense conversations."
"I do," Adora says cautiously, "it just takes a lot out of me." She nuzzles back into Catra's ribs, fingers tapping out a restless staccato against the mattress. "And, I mean, when we talk I usually end up feeling like a monster because I missed something horrible or was hurting you the whole time without knowing it." Swallowing hard, she admits, "I can't make that… that dirty feeling go away, no matter how much I apologize."
Catra's fingers land on her cheek gently but exert insistent pressure against her jaw, urging her to turn her head. When she gives in with a troubled sigh, she finds Catra's steady, reassuring gaze waiting for her.
"Adora, you are not a monster," declares Catra. "Okay? Not at all. And I'm the one who should be sorry."
Adora's eyelids flutter. "Huh? For what?"
"I already told you, back in the gym," Catra mutters with a shrug.
When Adora's brow crinkles adorably, she realizes she's going to have to repeat herself and is suddenly unable to maintain the eye contact she insisted on. It was easier to say this when her guard was already down and she was desperate to say things she'd almost lost the chance to say, forever. Scratching behind one ear as she feels them start to heat up, she swallows hard and forces the words out before she can lose her nerve.
"I'm sorry for how I reacted, when you told me how Shadow Weaver used to hurt you," clarifies Catra. Her jaw twitches and hardens, eyes going distant but unmistakable dark. "I'm sorry she hurt you at all."
Adora blinks, hard. Shaking off her surprise, she sits up again and takes Catra's hand. "No, I'm sorry," she counters. "I was being totally insensitive. We were talking about your trauma and I made it about me."
Catra sighs. She hates the T word, but now's not the time to go picking more fights. She can't very well argue with any of that statement, really, despite her natural inclinations. That's exactly what Adora did wrong. And it's a good sign she's already thought it through on her own, and a relief not to have to explain it. But accepting apologies, it turns out, can be just as hard as giving them.
"Yeah," she mutters, jaw shifting subtly. Finally meeting Adora's eyes again, she says, "Look, if you'd told me at any other time-"
"I know," Adora assures her. "My timing sucked. I just felt misunderstood, I didn't want you to think I couldn't understand at all."
"I was being kind of a condescending dick about it," Catra admits, lips quirking slightly. Adora chuckles, rubbing her thumb over Catra's knuckles. A firm squeeze of her fingers makes her look up, finding all traces of humor gone from Catra's eyes. "Why did you never tell me?"
Try as she might, Adora can't hold her gaze. Restless fingers twisting in the sheet, she mumbles, "That's just the way things were. Didn't figure there was any use talking about it."
"I guess that's one thing that was the same between us," remarks Catra. When Adora answers with only a nod, she sighs. Dragging a hand through her hair, she swears, "I'm trying, Adora, I'm really trying to do better. To listen, and not flip out whenever you say something that upsets me. I am trying, I promise. But when something reminds me of something really bad or scary I can't control how I react."
Catra frowns as she hears those words roll off her tongue. "No, I can," she quickly corrects herself, "it's just harder. But that's no excuse. I am trying, and I'm gonna keep trying, because I don't ever wanna lose you again. I hate fighting with you, I…"
A hand presses firmly against her chest, cutting her off with calming pressure. Her eyes flit up to meet Adora's, finding them full of empathy and love. "It's okay," says Adora. "I understand."
"You do?" asks Catra in disbelief. Not the mean and cutting kind of disbelief from last night, Adora knows the difference. This time the emotion sounds much more genuine. Almost hopeful.
"Yeah," Adora says quietly, absentminded fingers tracing the stripes on Catra's arm. "It happens to me too. I'll remember something and freeze up, get scared or even forget where I am." A memory strikes her and her fingers still, back straightening a little as a self-deprecating snort bursts past her lips. "Last week one of the Bright Moon generals laid into me and I started crying in front of her and Angella. It was so embarrassing."
Catra almost chuckles. It's not that it's funny, but… it's nice to know she's not as alone as she thought. "Really?"
"Yeah," Adora admits, lips twitching sheepishly. "It just felt too much like…"
"Like Shadow Weaver," Catra states gravely.
"Yeah." Adora's voice sounds as weak as she felt in that moment, her eyes beginning to sting just at the thought of it. "It made me feel like I was back there again, so small and powerless and… and in danger." Rubbing her eyes, she shrugs. "Honestly I don't even have to, like, remember anything in particular. Sometimes something just happens that overwhelms me, makes me feel that way again."
"Yeah, same," commiserates Catra. "And it can be the stupidest little things, too. Someone looking at me the wrong way, or using the wrong word." She can't help but frown as her reaction to Angella dropping the A word comes to mind. Angella wasn't even using it the same way as Shadow Weaver used to, but apparently that made no impact on Catra's, ugh, traumatized brain.
"Bonus points if they're really tall," adds Adora.
"Oh, one hundred percent," agrees Catra. She even hates it when Adora gets up in her face and uses her size advantage, and she's not even two inches taller than her. It's closer to three if Adora's wearing her boots, whatever, but at least she doesn't levitate when she loses her temper. That shit was terrifying.
A squeeze of her hand pulls her back to the present, where Adora's soft, understanding smile is waiting for her. A smile she really doesn't deserve. Her eyes slide away with another sigh. "I wish I could predict it better. Would save us a lot of trouble."
"I wish I could too," murmurs Adora, watching her own thumb as it explores the back of Catra's hand. "Not just for me, for you too."
Catra doesn't answer, but Adora can feel her questioning gaze. Swallowing the lump of guilt building in her throat, she explains, "If I wasn't so caught off guard, maybe I'd react better when that happens to you. Not take it so personally. I know it's not about me, it's just hard to remember sometimes when you get mad like that."
"It's not your fault," says Catra.
Adora chuckles. Her forgotten mantra sounds weird coming out of Catra's mouth. But it means more coming from her than anyone else. Anyone alive, anyway.
"Maybe not," admits Adora, meeting Catra's gaze with a shy smile. "But that doesn't mean I can't try to do better. I want to be a better friend to you. Or, you know," she nibbles at her lip, "whatever we are."
Adora's eyes bounce away again, fingers fidgeting, and Catra frowns. Her empty right hand twitches at her side, itching to caress that insecurity off Adora's face. Letting go of Adora's hand, she flattens her palms on the mattress and begins to push herself into a sitting position. She's not supposed to use her damaged abdominal muscles, so her arms will have to do.
The pills the healers provided her a few hours ago mute the sharp edges of her pain, but Catra can't help wincing as the stitches pull at her inflamed skin. Still, she keeps pushing. She can't leave Adora sitting there looking so adrift. Adora needs an anchor, and Catra will give it to her, her wounds be damned.
"Catra, be careful!" Adora's arms shoot out in a panic, hands scrabbling at Catra's back to take some of her weight. For once, Catra doesn't think she minds. She actually needs the help this time, and there's no trace of bossiness in Adora's tone. It's pure concern, and fear.
Heat sparks in Catra's cheeks as Adora gently reels her into her chest, and she instinctively ducks her head. It could be the attention, or the proximity, but either way she doesn't like it. She's not supposed to be the flustered one. Fighting off the blush, she mutters, "Yeah yeah, worry wart. I'm fine."
Adora's brow remains wrinkled in concern but she doesn't argue, deferring to Catra's judgment with a quiet nod. Her grip on Catra stays steady, though, holding her upright to spare her injured muscles the effort. Something inside of Catra melts, warmth oozing through her body as she relaxes in Adora's arms. Strong, but so very gentle.
Catra finds herself lifting both hands this time, caressing Adora's cheeks with equal gentleness. It's what she deserves.
The unexpected contact makes Adora jump a little, and the intensity in Catra's gaze isn't exactly relaxing either. Her throat goes dry as she stares right back, utterly paralyzed. Is she about to get another kiss? Catra said she still wasn't ready yesterday but she didn't seem to mind Adora kissing her in the gym this morning. Adora shouldn't have done that, though. She's terrible at boundaries. She doesn't know why Catra puts up with her at-
A pair of thumbs tracing her cheekbones interrupt that spiral.
"Hey," murmurs Catra, lips quirking affectionately. "Listen to me, okay?" When Adora nods mutely, she states, "You're Adora. That's a title all its own."
Adora feels her brow furrow a little but Catra doesn't seem to notice, too occupied with brushing some loose strands of hair behind Adora's ear. Her fingers trail down and tuck in behind Adora's jawbone before she meets her eyes again. She smiles softly, shoulders giving the tiniest shrug. "Maybe we're still figuring things out, but you don't have to worry about what level we're at or what to call us. You're my person, okay? Always have been."
A shuddering breath leaves Adora's lungs, the tension bleeding out of her muscles. She can feel a dopey smile overcoming her face, but she doesn't care. "You're my person too."
Catra feels her ears flick with pleasure, warmth spreading from her chest up into her cheeks. On some level she knew that, but it's really nice to hear. She spent most of her life believing it, but it sure didn't feel that way a couple months ago.
"Duh," she says, pulling Adora into a hug.
Adora's arms wrap around Catra's back and she sighs, letting her head tip to rest against Adora's. After a moment she fully gives into her impulses, tipping her forehead down to rest in the crook of Adora's shoulder and nuzzling into her collarbone. One of Adora's hands slides up into her hair, nails gently scraping her scalp, and a lazy purr rises in her throat. Adora chuckles but refrains from making any comments about how cute Catra is or anything similarly suicidal.
"So, um…" Adora clears her throat, and Catra can feel the heat building in her neck as she speaks. "Is it okay that I kissed you earlier? I was just really overwhelmed and, uh, relieved, you know?"
Catra's stomach burbles, sinking slowly, and she barely fights off the urge to squirm. "You were scared you'd never get another chance?"
"Yeah," Adora confesses, her voice small and vulnerable. Instinct kicks in again and Catra finds herself burrowing deeper into Adora in an attempt to comfort her. And herself, maybe just a little.
"I didn't mean to scare you," murmurs Catra, fingers tracing Adora's ribs through her shirt. She follows up with a tiny lick to Adora's neck that Adora would expect to feel gross, but instead has her reeling Catra in even tighter.
"I know." Swallowing hard, she says to herself as much as Catra, "It wasn't about me."
Catra doesn't answer, and Adora's not sure if she's considering the question or just basking in the silent intimacy. Either way, she doesn't dare interrupt. She keeps her mouth and eyes shut and savors the warmth of Catra's embrace and the fingertips stroking up and down her spine.
Several moments pass before Catra loosens her grip, pulling back enough to look Adora in the eye. "I'm not mad about it," she says, a hint of caution in her tone. "It felt right in the moment. Just maybe don't make a habit of it yet."
A cramp grows in Adora's throat as her gut plummets, but she swallows it down and nods. "Okay."
And it is okay, she reminds herself, forcing her overly sensitive brain to think logically. Catra said yet. Yet. She hasn't fucked this up, at least not any more than she already had. Catra just needs more time.
Something like relief crosses Catra's face, a seemingly genuine smile turning her lips as her thumb catches in Adora's collar. "Thanks for asking."
"Of course," says Adora. Forcing a smirk, she pokes Catra between the eyes. "You're not the only one on a journey of self-improvement or whatever."
"Hey, that's my thing," Catra protests, playfully swatting Adora's hand away, but she can't help grinning.
Adora grins right back at her, though it fades to a softer smile the longer she holds Catra's gaze. That smile may seem sweet and innocent all right, but it's threatening to turn Catra into mush. The feeling is unnerving, vaguely akin to nausea, but she sinks into it anyway.
The spell breaks when Adora rubs the back of her neck, eyes flitting away shyly before returning to Catra's. "Can we snuggle?"
Catra snorts, pushing down those ooey gooey feelings before she makes a complete fool of herself. "Obviously. We've been doing that every night, dummy."
That brings several pleasant memories to the forefront of Adora's mind, the blush she's barely been fighting off flaring up in her cheeks. Having to explain herself further sure doesn't help with that either. She can barely even hold Catra's gaze as she clarifies, "No, I mean now."
Catra raises an eyebrow, a smug smirk creeping onto her face, and Adora stumbles over her words as she attempts to recover a little dignity. "I-I mean, neither of us slept well, right? A nap would be nice." And that might be a legitimate excuse, if Adora hadn't been asleep on Catra ten minutes ago. She gulps, cheeks flushing impossibly hotter. So much for dignity. "Or, you know, another nap."
"You don't need to make excuses. I know I'm a top notch cuddler," Catra boasts airily. Peeling back the sheet bunched in her lap, she gives Adora's shirt an encouraging tug. "You want me to lie on you, or you wanna spoon?"
"I don't want to do anything that hurts you," Adora interjects, eyes scanning Catra's body in concern.
"Nothing hurts me right now, that's what the pills are for," Catra assures her teasingly. When Adora still hesitates, her eyes and voice turn earnest. "Just say what you want, Adora. It's okay."
"Okay," Adora concedes tentatively. Biting her lip, she starts to lean Catra back, careful to support her the whole way down. But once Catra's safely on her back and she's only inches above her and already in her arms, Adora's reservations and willpower dissolve. Hand flattening over Catra's sternum, she admits, "I think…"
Finally she gives in completely, laying her head on Catra's chest. Higher this time, right over her heart. Its steady beat saps the tension from her shoulders, allows her to breathe deep. She hasn't lost this. Hasn't lost her.
Catra chuckles, the sound reverberating in Adora's ear and against her cheek. One hand moving to her shoulder and the other to her hair, Catra warns her, "Careful, go this soft on me and I'll put you in a human trap."
Eyes fluttering shut, Adora sighs contentedly in defeat. "I wouldn't mind."
Catra grins. Tipping her chin down carefully, she lifts her head just enough to press a kiss to the top of Adora's head. She can feel a bit of strain in her abs as she does, but it's totally worth the adorable inhuman chirrup that bursts from Adora's lips. As she relaxes back again, Catra lets her hand in Adora's hair slide down her back, stroking over her shirt, and Adora hums contentedly. It's the closest she can get to a purr, and Catra echoes it right back at her.
They lie there wordlessly for several minutes before Catra feels Adora's brow and jaw begin to tighten. So typical.
"I can feel you worrying," she says dryly. "Stop it, Adora, I'm fine."
"No, I was just… I was thinking," murmurs Adora, fingers curling slightly on Catra's chest.
"Mm?" prompts Catra. When Adora fails to answer she smirks and extends a single claw, poking Adora in the forehead. "Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."
The raspy tone contrasting such smooth words does something to Adora's stomach. Heat floods her face, but there's no anger behind it. Embarrassment, absolutely, but also… ugh, why is she smiling? That's even more embarrassing.
Adora ducks her head to hide the expression, not to mention how badly she's blushing, in Catra's shirt. Clearing her throat, she tells her, "Uh, it's more of a question, actually."
"Oh yeah?" asks Catra, still so casual and carefree. She wouldn't be, if she knew what's weighing on Adora's mind. What has been weighing on it since last night, and truthfully for some twelve years before that.
"Yeah, um," Adora clears her throat again, fingers winding in Catra's gown, "it's just- it's, uh, about Shadow Weaver."
Catra's body stiffens, her arms locking into place around Adora. Before she has the chance to freak out too much, Adora flattens her hand on Catra's chest and lifts her head into her field of view. Meeting Catra's wary eyes, she assures her, "If you're not up to it it's fine, we don't have to talk about it."
It takes a moment, but the pounding heartbeat under her hand slows to a more controlled rhythm. "I'm up to it," Catra says, quiet but strong.
Adora blinks, forehead creasing slightly. She was about ready to let it go, but Catra seems sure. Swallowing her nerves, she gives in to her own curiosity (and emotional masochism).
"Did she…" Adora's eyes slide away, fingers drumming absently on Catra's chest. She's not even entirely sure how to phrase it. "There was no broken glass, was there? After Octavia."
Catra's heart leaps against her ribcage, some unknown force punching the air from her lungs. She can't speak as Adora meets her gaze again, can only stare wide-eyed. But she said she could handle this, and she will. Steeling herself with a (mostly) steady breath, she asks, "How did you know?"
"I mean, I always wondered," admits Adora. "The timing always felt like a convenient coincidence, I guess. But when Lonnie brought it up at dinner you looked about ready to pass out or murder her, and then after the nightmare you were…" Adora flexes her hand in demonstration.
Catra can't help the tiny scoff that passes her lips, though truthfully it's directed at herself more than Adora. "Guess you're not so blind after all."
Thumb sweeping reassuringly over Catra's chest, Adora makes a face halfway between a smile and a grimace. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No. Yeah. I dunno." Catra shrinks into herself with a shrug. "There's not much to talk about. Honestly, I kind of deserved it. I did wreck someone's eye, even if I didn't mean to. I just got mad when she whacked me with her tentacle on the way by and didn't even apologize."
Adora shakes her head resolutely. "Nobody deserves that."
"I got lucky," mutters Catra. "She wanted to take my claws."
The familiar line of reasoning makes Adora frown. Moving her hand to Catra's arm, she slides it down to the hand on her shoulder, finding Catra's fingers and linking them with hers. Giving them an insistent squeeze, she confesses, "Look, I do this all the time too. Trying to rationalize things because it's easier that way. I mean, duh. That's how I was able to believe Shadow Weaver and the Horde weren't evil for the longest time." Her eyes flee in shame, landing on their joined hands as she whispers, "It's so much easier to see it with another person than with yourself."
Catra stiffens slightly beneath her, but she doesn't push her away. In fact, she strokes her fingers through Adora's hair again as she calmly points out, "Everything that was happening to me wasn't enough to make you see it."
"I didn't know what I was seeing back then," Adora quickly counters. "It felt wrong but Shadow Weaver said it was right and I… I wanted to trust her." Hoping Catra doesn't take that as her trying to make excuses, she steers them back to the point. "I meant now. Now it's so much easier to see you were mistreated than to admit I was." Eyes sliding away, she admits, "But maybe that's because I didn't have it as bad, like you said."
The familiar cold, heavy feeling of guilt seeps into Catra's bones, ties knots in her stomach. She shifts under the weight of it, swallows hard as it creeps up into her throat. "I don't think so," she says. "I was the same way, I always reacted more to Shadow Weaver coming down on you than me. If I'd known what she was doing to you…" Catra huffs in frustration, free hand raking through her thick hair.
Adora smirks. "You'd have risked a belting because Shadow Weaver 'whacked my ass with her bare hand a few times'?" she asks, more teasing than sincere. But the smile slips off her face as she holds Catra's gaze and asks, "Is that really worth it?"
"To defend your honor? Hell yeah," Catra answers immediately. "I got beat no matter what I did, it was only a matter of time. Why bother trying to be good when you'll get punished either way?"
Adora winces. Squeezing Catra's hand, she dips her head to dust light kisses across her knuckles. She doesn't know what to say. No words can make this better, turn back the clock or take away Catra's suffering. Her eyes sting and she squeezes them shut, breathing deeply as she nuzzles the back of Catra's hand.
Catra sighs, lifting her free hand to caress Adora's cheek. When Adora finally looks her way again, she twitches her mouth. "Look, what I'm trying to say is… maybe I did have it worse, in that way, but I know she played all kinds of twisted mind games with you too and it really fucked you up. And she still hurt you. It's not like that's nothing. I shouldn't have acted like it was, and neither should you."
A watery smile turns Adora's lips. She dips her head again, leaving one final kiss on Catra's thumb. "I forgive you. I'm sorry too."
The words leech the tension from Catra's body as her guilt dissolves, allowing her a full breath. She's unspeakably grateful that Adora understands without her having to say it again. Lips curling in a charming smirk, she replies, "I forgive you too. Now can you please just relax?"
Adora snorts. "You know I don't know how to do that."
Acknowledging this with a chuckle, Catra pulls her head back down onto her chest. "Just be with me. Okay?"
Adora's response of a lazy nod kickstarts Catra's purr, but she puts effort into continuing it as she wraps her arms tight around her, fingertips tracing mindless patterns over her shirt. Adora may not know how to relax herself, but Catra has plenty of experience doing it for her.
It takes mere seconds for the tension to leave Adora's body, for her to go limp in Catra's grasp. Even her face relaxes, Catra can feel it, and she barely chokes down a chuckle, her purr lapsing for a moment. Adora's tiny whine and the way she burrows in deeper is plenty motivation to get it rolling again. After all the anxiety Catra has caused her today, not to mention the upheaval of the past couple weeks, it's the least she can do.
Calming Adora's body is one thing, but her mind is another. Nuzzling harder against Catra's chest, she tries to shut it down. Everything Catra's doing is helping, but some deep part of it is fighting back, demanding to be heard. It needs something to do, to obsess over. But as the rumble of Catra's purr continues to assault her eardrums, she remembers. There is something she can give it to do. That thing Catra taught her about focusing on what's around her in the moment, things she can see, hear, feel.
Maybe that's what Catra meant by just being with her. It's as good as any other strategy she can summon to calm her mind. But she's perfectly content with her eyes shut, so she changes it a little. Breathing deep, she begins.
Things she can smell: Catra's fur. Her skin, and her sweat, no doubt from her time in the gym. Hints of dried blood. An acrid tinge of disinfectant.
Things she can hear: Distant footsteps, faint voices. Catra's relentless purr. The thrum of her heart, the slight wheeze of her lungs as she starts to drift off.
Things she can feel: Warmth emanating from the body beneath her. Soft fur peeking past the collar of Catra's gown, tickling her fingertips. The ceaseless vibration and pulsing heartbeat echoing through Catra's chest and into her own body. A pair of strong arms holding her steady, anchoring her mind and body amidst the fear and uncertainty.
…And herself falling deeper and deeper in love.
A/N: Okay, I lied. This is the chapter that ties up this arc. Adora and Catra badly needed to come together and find some comfort and solace after that big scare, and boy they had a lot to talk about (not all of it's even in this chapter, but it's a start).
But there is still plenty to come in this story. How does Catradora's relationship progress now that they're in a better place? How do they address their ongoing mental health issues? How does Team Dryl continue to mesh as they all settle in? What was the disturbing information that Glimmer came across, and how will our heroes react to it? How will their truce and fledgling alliance with the rebellion play out? Stick around to find out.
