A/N: Yeah there was a bit of a delay here, but I was busy writing nsfw Catradora (titled Satisfaction over on the AO3) so I'd say it was time well spent. ;)
In any case, this is the chapter you guys get (almost) everything you want. Happy Halloween!
Eyes scrunching shut, Catra covers her mouth in an attempt to suppress a yawn. It leaks out through her fingers all the same, high and squeaky and embarrassing. Blinking the focus back into her eyes, she flicks them around in search of witnesses. Seeing no cadets looking her way, she sighs in relief and folds her arms back together. She scowls into the sparring circle, watching but hardly paying attention. Is she really supposed to give a shit about any of this?
A few more moves and Lonnie is victorious, slamming her opponent on his back before rolling and dragging his wrist into a devastating arm bar. He taps out and Lonnie gets a modest amount of applause as she stands. Grinning with a sweeping bow, she offers a hand to her opponent, who takes it grudgingly. Kyle and another boy take their places in the circle and Lonnie shares high fives with a few cadets on her way out. She's nursing a sprained ankle from a couple days ago, but you wouldn't know it by the way she struts.
When Lonnie's eyes lock onto hers, Catra groans internally. Of course Lonnie can't just ignore the folded ears, crossed arms and twitchy tail that very clearly say 'leave me the fuck alone.' No, that's like a homing beacon for Lonnie. She's always gotten a kick out of getting under Catra's skin.
Well, Catra won't give her the satisfaction. As Lonnie sidles up to her, she extends a congratulatory fist. "Nice armbar, dipshit."
Lonnie grins, bumping it with pride. "Thanks, bitch."
She turns to the circle and they stand silently side by side, watching as the next fight gets underway. In theory, anyway. Catra's zoning out, her lips sinking into a frown as she settles back into the numb, dark, heavy place she's been inhabiting today. Grief, she supposes, though not in the usual sense of the word. She's not grieving that abusive witch who tormented her all those years, body and soul. No, what she's grieving is the end of their relationship, how it's encased in stone forever, how she'll have no more chances to make things right. No more chances to make Shadow Weaver proud, to earn a gentle touch and kind words, to earn her pride and her trust. But that's bullshit, and she knows it. Those things were never earned, never given fairly.
Catra grits her teeth, glaring straight ahead. Today's numbness has been punctuated by occasional bursts of anger, rage so blinding it makes her want to tear her own skin to shreds to purge the feeling from her body. She rides out this latest wave of fury in silence, clenching her fists but keeping her claws sheathed to avoid making a scene in public. She takes a few deep breaths, pushing them out until the sensation releases her and she sinks back into the depths.
Shadow Weaver is gone. Catra will never get what she needs. It's over.
"What's eating you?"
Catra jumps slightly at the invasive words, turning to find Lonnie watching her with those infuriatingly smug green eyes. Licking her lips, Lonnie cracks, "I know it isn't Adora."
Catra's eyes narrow and she gives Lonnie a weak shove, prompting a laugh. "Nothing's eating me," she growls. "I'm fine."
"Then why aren't you sparring?" asks Lonnie. "Usually you love the chance to beat the shit out of some dumb human."
"I don't feel like it," Catra answers flatly, mouth twitching only slightly. She doesn't have the energy to be indignant. She doesn't give a shit.
Nodding with an exaggerated hum, Lonnie remarks, "You've been weird all day, dude. Broody, like more than normal." Catra summons the strength to shoot her a withering glare, but she's undeterred. "You snuck into the barracks after midnight last night, then you woke me up again with your snivelling at four in the fucking morning," she says with a glare of her own. "You owe me an explanation."
"I don't owe you anything, assface," retorts Catra, jamming a threatening claw against her chest. "And I was only snivelling because I inhaled something weird up on the rooftops."
Lonnie tips her head with a condescending smirk. "Sure, Catra."
"I'm serious," insists Catra. "There must've been some kind of spill in one of the factories."
"Uh huh."
Catra turns away with a glower, shaking her head. "Whatever, fuck you."
"You wish," snickers Lonnie.
"Ughhh!" Catra smacks her forehead with a huge sigh of exasperation. "Fine, I'll fight you if it will get you to shut up. For fuck's sakes, Lonnie."
Chuckling deeply beside her, Lonnie slings an arm around Catra's shoulder and gives her a playful shake. "That's my girl."
Catra would usually shove Lonnie away in this situation, but she doesn't this time. She's too tired to fight the contact and needs to save her strength for the actual fight. Besides, it's not the end of the world. Lonnie's arm is beefy but not so heavy as to be uncomfortable. The pressure is actually kind of soothing in a way, clearing Catra's mind and lulling her into a state of calm. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone, let alone Lonnie.
A loud thud and a howl of pain pierce the air, snapping Catra back to the moment. Her ears prick up at the familiar sound and she moves toward it on instinct, only to realize she's half a step behind Lonnie. Humans like to say that cats aren't pack animals, she's heard that one many times as a reason she can't be trusted. Catra is no more an animal than anyone else here, but she thinks Magicats must be different from their feline relatives in that way. The urge to protect her pack is overwhelming and immutable. One of her squadmates is hurt, and she needs to be there to help. Now.
She and Lonnie arrive at the edge of the circle to find Kyle sprawled on his stomach, moaning and writhing, pounding the floor as he tries to hold back wails of pain. It's not immediately apparent what the problem is from Catra's vantage point, but Rogelio is already kneeling on Kyle's other side, telling him to breathe and that he's going to be fine.
The instructor, some lower tier officer Catra doesn't really know, steps into the ring. Pushing Kyle's worried sparring partner aside, he shouts, "Enough theatrics! Get up and fight!"
Catra feels Lonnie tense beside her, hears Rogelio snorting at Kyle that his leg is broken and he'd better stay the fuck down. Cringing in anticipation, Catra peeks over Kyle's body and immediately wishes she hadn't. The sight of his unnaturally bent shinbone sends a shudder of sympathy through her bones.
The instructor must not have any reptile friends (likely) or he understands and is a complete and utter asshole (also likely), because he keeps yelling at Kyle, "Come on, don't be such a princess! I said get up, you coward!"
The boys' wailing and snorting is getting them nowhere, so Lonnie intercedes. Gesturing down at the deformed limb, she shouts over the din. "His leg's broken! You really think that's a good idea?"
The instructor's mouth falls open and he peers down at Kyle and then back up at Lonnie, his face turning red. "Don't talk to me that way, Cadet!" he barks. "You're running laps for the next half hour."
Lonnie blinks, purging her face of emotion. "I'm just trying to help. You needed a translator."
"The next hour!" he shouts. "Wanna push it more?"
Scowling, Lonnie shakes her head tersely and begins to push her way out of the circle of cadets. Watching her go, the instructor puffs out his chest and waves a dismissive hand down at Kyle.
"Someone take this weakling to the infirmary," he orders.
Rogelio glares up at the instructor, though to be fair the asshole probably can't read reptilian expressions either. Lucky Hel. Rolling his whimpering boyfriend to lie on his back, which results in another howl of pain, he grunts out an apology. Then, supporting the injured leg with one massive arm and the rest of his body with the other, he scoops Kyle up and carries him away.
As the crowd reforms around the sparring circle, the instructor claps Kyle's partner on the shoulder and declares, "Alright, let's get a real soldier in here to fight this guy!"
The cadets erupt into cheers and several rush forward to take Kyle's place, which results in a couple of impromptu fights as they try to push each other out of the circle. Catra is knocked back into the crowd in the process, but she doesn't react with her usual bared teeth and claws, too busy staring slack-jawed at the chaos. Never in her life has she felt more disconnected from her surroundings, not even when she wanted to be.
At one point in her life (okay, many points), Catra would have been clamoring along with the rest of them. For a chance not just to prove herself, but to avenge her injured squadmate. But she feels no need to prove herself to this incompetent asshole of an instructor, and it's not that kid's fault they're compelled to fight each other like this. He clearly felt terrible about Kyle, anyway.
As Catra watches the scene play out, watches the instructor continue to egg the cadets on, only one clear thought forms in her head.
What the fuck is wrong with these people?
Seriously. How is it weak and cowardly not to stand and fight on a broken leg? That's not how the body works. Then again, they also like to say that deserters are weak and cowardly. Maybe they don't know what those words even mean. Maybe weak and cowardly just means having a mind of your own.
Catra's eyes track Lonnie as she hobbles around the room with a red face and clenched fists. Though she isn't visibly fuming in the same way, a similar heat smolders deep in Catra's belly, filling her mind with treasonous thoughts. The whole thing is so fucking unfair. But that's hardly some grand revelation. Nothing that happens in the Fright Zone is fair.
So what is she even doing here?
That thought in particular makes Catra blink. Hard. She knows why she's here, she's been saying it over and over, clinging to these words, this need. She needs to show them they were wrong, she needs to achieve what everyone thought her incapable of. If she leaves, she'll never do that, and everything that happened here would be for nothing. But if nothing is fair here, rising to the top says nothing about her qualifications, only her ability to work the system. A system that's absolute bullshit.
And who does she need to prove it to, anyway? These mindless idiots submitting to an incompetant authority figure? Her temperamental former boss who put blind faith in her one day and took it away the next? Her deceased sorry excuse for a mother? Her ex-best friend who left her alone to suffer, but has since come to understand her wrongdoings? No… the only person Catra really needs to prove it to is herself. But if the system is bullshit, there's nothing to prove, only a painful void to fill with… something.
Scorpia's words from last night filter into Catra's brain through the distant sounds of cheering and shouting. If it feels like everything is for nothing, she needs to find a way to make something of her suffering so she can be at peace. Her eyes fall on Lonnie again, her ears recalling Kyle's sounds of agony. If she can stop other people from being hurt the way she was, would that make something of it? Would that be enough to satisfy the longing deep inside her, to heal the yawning, yearning chasm Shadow Weaver created with her rejection and cruelty, with her refusal to provide validation and affection? Catra doesn't know.
All Catra knows is she's done with this shit.
***o***
The hallway is silent save for the usual machine hum and the grunts Lonnie's making with every other step as she limps through the barracks complex. Neither she nor Catra is in the mood to talk, not now. They just came from the infirmary, where they found Kyle unconscious and about to go into surgery. Rogelio was pacing around and taking full advantage of his somewhat obscure language, grunting and huffing about the asshole instructor. If anyone else understood him they didn't say so, but Catra can't help worrying nonetheless. Her tender eye socket throbs at the thought of what could happen to him.
Of course, Lonnie didn't take the opportunity to get her ankle looked at while they were there. Medical attention, the horror! Catra gets it, she does, it's just that everything seems extra stupid right now. The insubordinate shit Hel was spouting off is nothing compared to the treasonous thoughts still bouncing around in her head.
Catra considered offering Lonnie a piggyback ride or an arm for support, but she values her life too much. Lonnie's just as prideful as she is. And as much as she despises showing weakness, she's also a dramatic little bitch. Lonnie's gonna suffer, and she's gonna make sure everyone knows about it.
Lonnie's overblown sigh of relief announces their arrival at their own dorm. Hobbling to the nearest bunk - Adora's - she plops down and rips the tensor bandage off her ankle, scowling at the swollen joint.
Catra's eyes narrow at the invasion of her territory, but she says nothing. A few days ago she would've punched Lonnie for such an indiscretion, but they've been getting on surprisingly well since her return. Besides, it's hardly fair to make Lonnie climb up to her own bunk on a bad ankle after she was forced to run laps for no good reason. She's the one who chose a top bunk back in the day (fought someone for it, actually), but it has its disadvantages.
Rolling her foot with a wince, Lonnie mutters, "What a fucking dick."
Catra would gladly chime in, but she's still sporting bruises from the last time she spoke too freely with no form of protection. Right now she really wishes she had Scorpia's sound blocker box with her, or the new and improved version that lives in Entrapta's lab, but she never thought she'd need it anywhere but with them. They're the only two people she confides in, these days.
Scanning the room for some kind of alternative, Catra's eyes settle on the vacuum bot sitting dormant in the corner. It's a small machine, but loud and clunky as they come. It's perfect.
Striding over to the bot, Catra squats down and taps in a few commands. It comes to life with a chorus of whirs and beeps, prompting another round of bitching from Lonnie.
"Are you serious, Catra?" she shouts over the escalating noises as the bot begins to crawl across the floor. "Are you actually fucking serious right now?"
Stepping over the stupid thing, Catra looks her dead in the eye and says, "Shut up, Lonnie."
Lonnie recoils slightly, mouth falling open as she stares up at Catra. Her fists clench and she hisses, "I hate that fucking thing."
"Yeah, well, unfortunately for us, we're not lizards," Catra shoots back. "And I dunno about you, but I don't want another concussion. Do you want peace and quiet, or a chance to vent?"
Lonnie's eyebrows arch, and Catra suddenly remembers she never told Lonnie who attacked her or why. Her eyes flick away, arms instinctually crossing over her chest.
Thankfully Lonnie doesn't press for details, either out of sympathy or because she's too keen on complaining. "Seriously, though, who promoted that asshole?"
"Probably some other asshole," Catra snarks with a shrug. "The higher ranks are full of them."
"Yeah, well you would know," huffs Lonnie.
Putting on her best grin, Catra jokes, "It's practically a requirement. How do you think I got second-in-command so fast?"
Lonnie grunts out something only vaguely resembling a laugh, not looking Catra in the eye. Reaching for the bandage, she sets to work rewrapping her ankle.
Frowning, Catra sinks down to sit beside her. "You worried about Kyle?"
Lonnie rolls her eyes and mutters, "I'm always worried about Kyle."
Catra watches her squadmate in silence for a moment, carefully crafting her argument. As Lonnie finishes wrapping, she leans back on her hands and remarks, "Maybe it would be better for him if he didn't have to be a soldier."
"He doesn't have to be," grunts Lonnie, securing the bandage. "Once we graduate he can choose to be a factory worker."
"Yeah, in what? Two more years?"
"He's survived this long." When Lonnie looks up to meet Catra's gaze, her eyes widen briefly before narrowing. She speaks slowly, hints of warning in her tone. "What are you trying to say, Catra?"
"You said you'd protect him with your life…" Catra reminds her, shrugging casually as she trails off. "Maybe the best way to protect him is to take him somewhere safer."
Lonnie blinks hard. "Okay, I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that."
Dropping all pretenses, Catra sighs and fully faces her. "I'm serious, Lonnie."
"So am I." Lonnie stares at her for a few seconds, looking both disgusted and curious. "Since when do you want to leave?"
Catra can't look at her anymore. The shame of entertaining such weak thoughts is threatening to crush her, and knowing it's messed up doesn't make it any better. Swallowing hard, she resolves to be honest. If she shares her own feelings of disenchantment, maybe it will allow Lonnie to identify her own. Talking about it has got to be a step forward, in any case.
"It's more like since when do I not," she admits, ears flattening defensively. Her jaw and shoulders clench as all her instincts fight her, scream at her to shut up, but she presses on. "When I got promoted I could finally prove them all wrong. Before that… well, if Adora had asked me to leave with her, I would have." Catra snorts, arms crossing over her chest. "I mean, if she'd asked me as more than an afterthought."
"So she did ask you," concludes Lonnie. There's an undertone of accusation there that makes Catra's head snap up.
"Yeah, but she was leaving either way," Catra spouts, suddenly defensive. "She didn't want to leave for me, give up everything she'd worked for to show she cared about me. That would've been different."
"Still more of an offer than any of the rest of us got," retorts Lonnie, a bitter edge to her voice.
"That's why I'm saying this now," stresses Catra. Her eyes squeeze shut as she attempts a calming breath. When they flutter back open, she finds Lonnie staring at her slack-jawed. "Don't look at me like that. I know it didn't just hurt me when Adora left us behind, okay? I get that. And I don't wanna do the same thing."
Tension slowly leaks from Lonnie's posture until she finally sighs, combing a hand through her dreads. Resignation taints her eyes and voice as she asks, "When?"
"I'm not sure. I kinda just decided," admits Catra. Hesitating a couple seconds, she reiterates, "You could come too, you know. You and the boys. I want you to. You could have a better life than…" she gestures around the dorm, "this."
Lonnie's face hardens again. "I can survive here just fine."
"I know," Catra assures her. "So can I. But maybe… maybe we shouldn't have to, you know?" She blinks down to her lap, brow creasing as she nibbles her lip. "Maybe we deserve better."
This is all so weird.
Sighing once more, Lonnie asks, "Where would we even go?"
Catra's head shakes sharply on impulse. "I can't tell you that. Not until we're out of here."
Lonnie squints. "You want me to leave my whole life behind to run off with you, no clue where we're going? Catra, that's a lot to ask."
"I'm not asking, I'm offering," counters Catra. When Lonnie's head shakes and her eyes fall, she fights to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "Okay, well. Just know that if you decide to leave later, there's a place for you. Once we defect, I think you'll know where."
"We?" Lonnie blinks.
"Stop asking so many damn questions," Catra scolds her with a soft elbow to the ribs. "Trust me, you'll get it."
"A'ight," shrugs Lonnie. "We'll see about that."
Smiling into her collar, Catra admits, "I hope you come. I could use a sparring partner who's not afraid to kick my ass."
"Sure," chuckles Lonnie.
"'Kay, well." Suddenly fidgety, Catra stands and nods at the door. "I'm gonna go check in with Entrapta, see what nonsense she's up to today." Giving Lonnie a tight smile, she turns to leave.
"Turn off that stupid bot on your way out," Lonnie calls after her. Catra glares at her demanding tone and she tosses a hand in the air. "What? I'm not chasing it around on this ankle."
"Fine," grumbles Catra. She tracks the thing down and yanks it out from under one of the bunks, resulting in an ear-splitting screech of protest. When she finally gets the stupid thing turned off she sighs in relief, making her way back to its home in the corner. Setting it down gently, she heads for the door.
"Hey, Catra?" Lonnie's voice stops Catra in her tracks, and she turns to see those green eyes uncharacteristically unguarded. Lonnie's whole face is relaxed, actually, something Catra can't claim to have seen in years. Her mouth twitches in acknowledgement. "Thanks for asking."
Holding her gaze a moment, Catra snorts. "Yeah," she says. "Least I could do."
Exiting the barracks, Catra marches straight to Entrapta's lab. She's set this whole thing in motion, and now she has to follow through. Lonnie's not a narc, Catra knows that, but she's too prideful to chicken out or go back on her word. Not to mention stubborn as fuck. Once Catra's set her mind to something, prying her from that resolution is next to impossible. One of the many ways in which she and Adora are alike.
The lab doors slide open to reveal Entrapta perched on Scorpia's pincers, their lips mashed together. Entrapta's gloved hands caress Scorpia's cheeks, hair molesting her bulging arms as she hums into the kiss. The door opening and closing makes no impression on them whatsoever. Must be a pretty good kiss.
Catra's nose wrinkles. Stepping closer, she crosses her arms and clears her throat loudly.
While Entrapta seems too preoccupied with her current fascination to notice, which is pretty normal for her anyway, Scorpia's eyes flick Catra's way and bulge. Extricating her lips, she says, "Oh. Um..." She points at Catra, leaving Entrapta supported by one beefy arm as she turns to look.
Entrapta releases a nervous chuckle, waving sheepishly. "Uh, hi Catra." Hopping down, she continues, "Sorry, we were just-"
"Hey, Trapta," Catra interjects as she approaches, waving away the explanation she so does not want to hear. "Is your box turned on?"
Entrapta's mouth falls open. "My- my what?"
"Your sound box thing, you know," Catra tries, not wanting to be too specific in case it's not powered up.
"Oh, the mobile audio interference module 2.0! Yes, I have it on permanently, since I have a difficult time containing myself when I get excited and I've been working on this highly sensitive data retrieval mission."
Tipping her head, Catra casually inquires, "How's that coming, anyway?"
"Oh, I'm so glad you asked! I've made some incredible breakthroughs!" Springing over to her desk in one hop, Entrapta begins typing wildly, pulling up file after file on the various screens. "Hordak has some real tricky firewalls surrounding his most sensitive files, but I got past them! I haven't had time to read them all yet, but the ones I have read are fascinating. Real juicy, and useful, too. We'll definitely be able to use this as a peace offering."
Catra's brow furrows. "Peace offering?"
"To the rebellion!" explains Entrapta. "So the Princess Alliance will take us back in and agree to protect Dryl when- I mean, if we defect."
The floor shifts beneath Catra's feet, her eyes glazing over as a wave of nausea rises in her gut. This… no. Scorpia said they were going to fuck off to Dryl, not cozy up with the enemy. What the fuck is going on?
Squirming beside Catra, Scorpia interjects, "Uh, Entrapta, Catra's not down for joining the Alliance."
"I couldn't even if I wanted to," Catra says flatly, fighting the tension in her jaw. "I'm not a princess."
"Of course not, I meant me and possibly Scorpia," Entrapta clarifies with a wave of her hand, eyes not leaving the screens. "Sorry, Catra."
"It's fine," grumbles Catra, thumbs catching in her belts as she jams her hands downward. "I never had a big shiny sword or a dumb tiara to get me in the door. I know how it goes."
Entrapta pushes off from her desk, careening towards them on her rolling chair. She skids to a stop a foot away and hops up onto it, bending down to look Catra dead in the eyes. Suddenly her hair shoots out, culling a surprised squeak from Catra as she pulls and prods at her face. Catra's scowl deepens and she swats away the encroaching lilac tendrils.
"Downturned mouth, tight cheeks, creased forehead, outbursts of hostility," remarks Entrapta. Hopping off her chair, she straightens up proudly and concludes, "You seem annoyed."
"No shit, genius," mutters Catra, kicking the chair for good measure.
As it rattles away, Entrapta gets right up in her face again. "Is it because you don't want to get involved with the people who stole the girl you love away from you, and you're too prideful to join them after refusing her offer the first time?"
A rather insane smile stretches across Catra's face. Still looking at Entrapta, she very sweetly says, "Scorpia, I'm gonna fucking murder you."
Entrapta is undeterred. Perching on her hair, she rests her gloved hands on Catra's shoulders and holds her gaze earnestly. "Catra, we need to go somewhere, and Dryl is by far the safest option, at least in terms of fortifications. Plus, you know, all my stuff is there. But that's the first place they'll look, so we need me to be reinstated into the Alliance so we can call on them to protect us if the Horde comes for us. Make sense?"
"Uh, doesn't your kingdom have an army?"
"Eh, not much of one, to be honest," admits Entrapta. "The Horde could basically walk in and take it at any time."
Catra squints. "But you think it's safe there?"
Entrapta shrugs and answers with her usual brand of brutal honesty. "Safer than anywhere else," she declares, sweeping her arms around dramatically.
"Huh." Catra's brow furrows, foot tapping out a rhythm while her tail sways behind her.
"What's going on, Catra?" Scorpia pipes up, squinting at her ominous body language.
Catra takes a deep breath, waits for her mind and body to try to talk her out of it. But they don't. The words come surprisingly easy.
"I'm ready to move on," she says.
Scorpia's eyelids flutter obtusely. "Huh?"
Catra doesn't even roll her eyes. "I'm leaving the Horde," she spells out. "We're leaving the Horde."
Suddenly Catra's feet leave the ground, her yelp of surprise dwarfed by the loud wheeze of all the air leaving her body. Somehow Scorpia manages to squeeze her even tighter, making her wince in agony as her ribs creak and crush her lungs.
"Oh, kitty!" she squeals. "I'm so proud of you!"
Still unable to emit more than a squeak, Catra winces and slams her fist down against Scorpia's back until she loosens her grip.
"Oh, sorry!" Scorpia backpedals, placing Catra back on her feet. "I mean, 'Wildcat.'"
Doubled over panting with her hands on her knees, it takes Catra a couple sounds to comprehend the apology. It didn't even occur to her just now to be offended by the term she once snapped at Scorpia over. Then again, there were more important things to worry about than some vaguely demeaning nickname.
"I was gonna say I can't breathe," Catra clarifies as she straightens up. Averting her eyes with a frown, she mumbles, "I got enough of that already from Hordak and Shadow Weaver."
"What?"
Waving Scorpia off, Catra mutters, "Forget it."
Scorpia frowns, brow crinkling in concern. Putting a hand on Catra's back, she steers her to the side of the room, out of Entrapta's earshot.. Not that it matters, she's already fully absorbed in her work again, muttering to herself and typing up a storm.
Resting a claw on Catra's shoulder, Scorpia gently says, "Hey, look, I know there's a lot of baggage keeping you here." She tips her head, examining Catra with those soft, perceptive eyes. "You sure you're ready to leave it all behind?"
Catra closes her eyes and tries to think about it, but truly, there's nothing left to think about. Today's events lifted some kind of veil shrouding her mind, throwing into sharp relief several truths she wasn't able to acknowledge before. She has nothing left to prove. This isn't worth it. She doesn't want to be here.
Ready or not, something inside of Catra has let go.
"Yeah," she declares. A smile crosses her face. A smile of triumph, yes. But even more so, it's a smile of relief. "Yeah. I guess I've made my peace with it."
***o***
It's just before lights out when Catra comes across Lonnie in the barracks. She's reclined back against the wall in her bunk, foot propped up on a pillow she seems to have stolen from Catra's unused bed, engrossed in a book. Grinning to herself, Catra ducks down, sneaking around her own bunk before popping her head up over the side of Lonnie's.
"Hey, so I was thinki-"
"Ah!" Lonnie jumps, tossing the book in the air as her head swivels to locate the intruder.
Catra cackles gleefully, ducking to avoid Lonnie's swatting hand before jumping up to join her in one hop. "What's up, gibble?"
"Please," huffs Lonnie, smoothing back her dreads. "I can walk. Doesn't mean I have to like it."
Catra makes herself right at home, crawling up to squeeze in beside Lonnie. It's the perfect revenge for Lonnie's invasion of Adora's bunk. Ignoring Lonnie's pointed glare, she asks, "Any news on Kyle?"
Lonnie blinks away for a second, tongue tucked under her lip. "He's out," she answers tersely. "He'll heal."
"Good." Catra nods, eyes drifting away. Lonnie doesn't move to make room for her, but she doesn't push her off the edge either. Finally Catra says, "Tomorrow."
Lonnie's eyelids flutter. "Tomorrow?"
"Yeah, what are you up to tomorrow?" asks Catra, raising a pointed eyebrow. "There's a tech-gathering mission leaving at dawn. Usually they just use robots but apparently some of the sensors have gone screwy, so they're taking soldiers to be another set of eyes." She shrugs nonchalantly. "They could use a few more bodies."
"They?" Lonnie squints. "You're not going?"
"Well, I am hitching a ride to the woods, but actually I'm setting off looking for Adora," clarifies Catra. "Might be gone awhile."
There's a flash of recognition in Lonnie's expression. "Right, your personal mission from Hordak."
"Yeah." Poking her in the ribs, Catra prods, "Anyway, should I tell them you can help? Gibbles like you and Kyle are ideal, actually. They could actually get some use out of you."
Lonnie's eyes flit to Kyle's empty bunk, then down to her lap. "Kyle's gonna be in the infirmary for a couple days still, and I have to be here for the boys. Besides, I just… I can't right now."
"I understand," says Catra. She really, really does. If Lonnie leaves, it's got to be on her own time, her own terms. But Catra couldn't very well leave her squad behind without offering a way out. A little bit of hope.
Eyes scanning the room full of cadets getting ready to turn in, Catra leans into Lonnie and puts a hand to her ear. "Dryl," she whispers.
As Catra pulls back Lonnie blinks, then nods in understanding. Shielding her mouth with one hand, she mouths, "Entrapta and Scorpia?"
"Mm," Catra hums.
Frowning in thought, Lonnie nods once more, staring down at her lap for a moment. Meeting Catra's gaze again, she says, "Thanks for trusting me." Her eyes dart around and she quickly adds, "You know, plugging me for a mission and all." She twitches her mouth slightly. "I know I haven't done much to earn it."
A smile starts pushing its way onto Catra's face, so she morphs it into a smirk. "What can I say? We're squadmates, I care about you guys too."
"You have funny ways of showing it," remarks Lonnie.
Truly grinning now, Catra retorts, "I could say the same for you, dipshit."
Lonnie huffs, but she's smiling. "Don't get all sappy on me, now."
"Me, sappy?" Catra scoffs. "Say that again and you'll end up like Octavia."
"A Force Captain?"
"No, with only-" Catra cuts herself off as she spots the gleam in Lonnie's eyes. "You're fucking with me."
Lonnie cackles, no doubt enjoying this final chance to get on Catra's nerves. As her laughter dies down, her expression turns pensive and she extends a hand. "Good luck, Catra. I hope you find what you're looking for."
"Thanks." Catra lets a genuine smile shine through as she grasps Lonnie's hand in a solid shake. Then she turns and lets her legs dangle off the bed, preparing to drop. Teetering on the edge, she looks back over her shoulder. "See you soon."
As she hops down, she hears Lonnie mutter, "Yeah, we'll see about that."
***o***
The blanket off Adora's bed. An electronic map, a shock baton, a hoodie, a week's worth of rations. This is all Catra stuffs into her backpack at the crack of dawn. She already stashed most of her personal belongings in Emily's cargo compartment last night, alongside Scorpia's keepsakes. Not that there was much to begin with.
Even Catra's featherlight footsteps echo in the hallways when they're this quiet, utterly deserted. The wake-up siren has yet to sound, leaving her alone with her thoughts as she strolls toward the vehicle bay. Finding the skiff parked on the loading dock, as promised, Catra wanders to the edge.
That familiar heaviness settles on Catra's shoulders as she looks out over the Fright Zone. The place she grew from a frightened child into a hardened soldier. The place she suffered humiliation, abuse, neglect. The place that failed to fulfill so many of her deepest longings and needs.
This place leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, a tang as acrid as the polluted air. It tastes like disappointment, broken promises, wasted potential. But there's a sweet undertone to it, one that makes it palatable. It brings a sad smile to Catra's lips.
This is the place she met Adora. The place she met Scorpia, and Lonnie and Rogelio and Kyle. The place she learned to fight, and to love. The place she had her first kiss. The Fright Zone houses some of Catra's fondest memories. But those, those she can take with her.
She just wishes she could leave the bad ones behind.
Catra's ear flicks slightly at the heavy footsteps behind her, her twitching nose picking up Scorpia's scent with ease. She stays silent even when the footsteps cease, glazed eyes taking in the shadows cast across the complex by the earliest shades of dawn.
This was her home.
Hesitating a moment, Scorpia ventures, "You sure about this, Catra?"
Eyes lingering just a moment longer, Catra says, "Yeah, I'm sure." She turns to Scorpia with a smile, resignation and excitement battling to control her lips. "Let's go somewhere better."
A/N: Thanks to Akari Hope for betaing this chapter! Since it was so important for Catra I wanted an extra eye on this one. If you haven't read her cute but painful modern au over on the AO3 I highly recommend it!
Yes, next chapter is the long awaited Catradora reunion. Stay tuned!
In the meantime, enjoy season 4... if that's even the word for it. I dunno, I'm a little scared. Can't wait for Noelle to torture me some more.