A/N: Hey everyone, I'm back with another banger of a chapter. It's one of my fave dual POV chapters so far, which says a lot. Catra and Adora's worst selves come out to play but I promise it's worth it.

CONTENT WARNING for references to emotional and physical child abuse.

Of all the things Adora has seen in Dryl, this may be the strangest. Yes, even stranger than the robot uprising.

Entrapta's gloves are off.

Her tiny hands (so tiny, holy shit) are on the sides of Scorpia's head, palms rubbing back and forth over the shaved bits. Adora can't stop staring, vaguely hypnotized. Not just by the sight, but by thoughts of how nice that soft fuzz must feel. Scorpia fell asleep almost immediately when she curled up with her head on Entrapta's lap over an hour ago, and Entrapta's been going almost non-stop since.

Apparently capable of extremely divided attention (yet another thing to be jealous of), Entrapta is typing and pointing with several locks of hair as she explains her choice of placement for the sensors in her early detection network. The last few are being positioned right about now, little yellow dots moving across the map on screen. Adora's exhausted but Catra said she was going to stay up to watch the sensor deployment, and Adora can't bring herself to leave her side until she absolutely has to, so she's up late too.

Separation anxiety notwithstanding, Adora's not sure she could physically sleep right now. She's been on edge since she got back from Bright Moon, even after she and Catra talked. There's something digging at her mind, refusing to let her rest: a distinct feeling that there's something she has to do. Conveniently, her brain refuses to tell her what this thing is, just that it's important and she can't rest until she does it.

"Once I can salvage enough parts, I'm going to extend the network to protect Bright Moon as well. They're most vulnerable with the woods frozen over," says Entrapta, not a shred of guilt in her tone for her mistakes. Adora doesn't know whether to be appalled or jealous. "Without the sensors, Bow's tracker pad can only detect Horde technology about as far away as the Beacon, and that doesn't give them nearly enough time to call for help, even if we zoomed over there at top speed."

The Beacon.

The Beacon.

Adora's face blanches.

"Oh, fuck," she says, eyes widening in panic. "FuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK."

Catra blinks, concerned but also slightly impressed. So much for the little girl who used to scold her for using the D word. "What?"

"I forgot to go see Light Hope. I told her I'd train with her after the meeting and I totally forgot," laments Adora, slapping her own forehead with a loud groan. Her nails dig into the skin and Catra's eyebrows fly up. Adora does not need to start doing that.

"Okay, calm down," says Catra, attempting to keep her tone even and non-threatening as she eases closer. Loosely gripping Adora's wrist, she peels her palm from her face. "Just breathe, Adora."

Adora can't just breathe. How could she have forgotten something like that? She was so tired after that meeting she didn't even think of it. Gods, she's such a screw up! And a terrible She-Ra.

"I need to go," she says, eyes snapping open with resolve. "I need to go there now."

"Now?" Catra's ears stick straight up. "Are you crazy? It's the middle of the goddamn night."

"It's not like holograms need sleep," reasons Adora. Light Hope usually lies dormant, activating any time Adora calls for her. But it's not like she's unaware of the passage of time. She'll know Adora's late. Very, very late. Adora will never hear the end of this.

"No, but humans do," states Catra, gripping her hand with an insistent squeeze. "And don't tell me you're fine, you said earlier that you've barely slept."

Normally the contact would be comforting, and gods has she ever missed holding Catra's hand, but right now it's too much. Adora jerks her hand away, shaking both of hers out and beginning to pace as she shakes her head sharply. "I'll survive. I have to go today, I promised I would!"

Catra's eyes narrow, her suddenly cold hand squeezing into a fist. "Didn't think promises meant that much to you."

She cringes the second the words are out of her mouth, even before Adora turns to her with a withering glare. "Sorry," she backtracks, hands raised in surrender. "I'm trying not to do that anymore."

This is why they can't have nice things. Catra is great at breaking things, casually pushing them off precarious ledges and watching them fall for her own pettiness and amusement.

Adora isn't about to let her off the hook either, by the looks of it.

"This is so not the time for your jealous bullshit, Catra." Her icy tone melts in the face of her anger and anxiety as she continues, "I am in the middle of a crisis here."

"Obviously," Catra huffs under her breath. Taking a second to breathe and refocus on the problem at hand, she steps in and tries again. "You remember what I taught you in Bright Moon? Things you can see, hear, feel? Let's do that," she suggests. "It'll help you calm down."

"I don't want to calm down," grouses Adora, looking away and wringing her fingers. She pulls hard, a vain attempt to quiet her mind to the point that she can think clearly enough to problem solve. Why the hell did Shadow Weaver ever think she'd make a good Force Captain?

"Oh my gods, Adora," groans Catra, throwing her head back dramatically. "Look, I get you need to fix this, but now's not the time for this, either. What are you gonna do, drive the skiff through the Whispering Woods in the dead of night? It doesn't even have lights."

"I could install some!" interjects Entrapta, and Adora jumps at the sudden reminder of her presence. Squinting as she does mental calculations, Entrapta adds, "It would take me at least half an hour, though."

"Please don't encourage her," groans Catra, rolling her eyes.

…Her very special eyes.

"Hey, you have really good night vision!" Adora reasons, perking up in excitement. "You could drive me."

Catra balks at the mere suggestion. "Hell no!"

"Please, Catra?" begs Adora, giving the best puppy eyes she can through her roiling anxiety. If Catra's unchanging expression is any indication, it's not effective in the slightest.

"You do realize you're asking me to drive into a frozen forest in the middle of the night and wait for you outside for however many hours while some stupid hologram puts you through your paces, right?" she asks flatly.

Squirming slightly under that loaded gaze, Adora logics her way through this latest obstacle. "I mean, you could wear your hoodie, grab some warmer pants and boots?"

"Are you serious, Adora?" Catra looks downright offended at this point. "Even if it wasn't fucking freezing out there, I've had a long day and I want to go to bed. It's not fair of you to ask that of me."

Oh. Okay yeah, that's a fair point. Adora flushes slightly under the weight of this realization. She's being self-centered, as usual. But…

"But I need to get there somehow," she protests weakly. Forcing her hands to stop fucking fidgeting, she clenches them into fists and squares her shoulders. "Entrapta, get started on those lights."

"No, Entrapta," Catra counters coolly, eyes still fixed on Adora, "don't get started on those lights."

"What the fuck, Catra?" Adora bristles. "Who died and put you in charge?"

"Shadow Weaver."

Adora balks, paling slightly at the morbid remark. "That's not funny."

"Eh, it kinda was," Catra shrugs with a wry smirk.

Giving her head a quick shake, Adora insists, "You know what I meant. Where do you get off, thinking you can boss me around?"

Catra snorts. "Why, because that's your job?"

"What? No!" Adora gapes at her, apparently completely baffled by the comment. "What is wrong with you?"

"What is wrong with you?" demands Catra. "Do you really think it's a good idea to go running off into a frozen wasteland in the middle of the night?"

"Might as well get some practice," Adora mutters, an almost imperceptible hint of bitterness afflicting her tone. "She-Ra has to be ready to respond to an attack whenever."

Catra facepalms, hard. "For fuck's sakes, forget She-Ra! I'm talking about Adora. You're not looking after yourself, so someone has to."

Adora huffs, crossing her arms. "I can take care of myself, Catra."

"Clearly you can't!" snaps Catra. "Or at least you don't. You wanna save the world but you don't care what happens to yourself." She jams a finger into Adora's chest, barely keeping a lid on her anger as she growls, "But I do, you stubborn fucking dumbass. So cut this hero complex shit before you run yourself into the ground, or worse."

"You're not in charge of me," retorts Adora, straightening up to her full height. "What are you gonna do, lock me up?"

Catra tilts her head. "Nah, that's more of a Bright Moon thing."

"Oooo, ouch!"

Both of them whip their heads to the side to find Entrapta leaning in and whispering into her recorder. "Fascinating, the subjects appear to-"

"Shut up, Entrapta!" they both snap at once, but the mutual interruption turns their irritation back on each other and they end up in another glaring contest.

Sighing heavily, Catra pinches her brow. This is getting her nowhere but deeper in shit. It takes her only a moment to sift through the other issues with Adora's plan and form a new strategy, and a compelling argument.

"Look, Adora," she begins confidently, meeting Adora's sullen gaze, "this is just a bad idea all around. If you go there now it'll be obvious you forgot. Just go tomorrow and tell her the meeting ran long and you were too tired." Squinting as though she's still thinking it over, she muses, "Say you didn't feel like you had the energy to train optimally, and you didn't want to waste your time or hers." She finishes the act with a triumphant, relieved smile at having solved Adora's problem.

"That-" Adora falters and squints in the middle of her protest, eventually deflating at the realization that she has no counterargument. "That maybe could work, I guess," she grumbles, crossing her arms again. Catra's suggestion has relieved a bit of the urgency sending her mind and body into overdrive, leaving her feeling calmer but dejected. It's a viable solution to her problem, but she's not ready to lose the argument just yet.

"It will," Catra assures her, "as long as she doesn't pull another one of those sketchy brain scans on you."

"She promised she wouldn't do that again without my consent," says Adora, dismissing the concern with a wave. "I mean, I had to explain what consent was, but I think she gets it now."

"Comforting," remarks Catra.

"Will you shut up?"

"Now that I've made it all better?" Catra boasts with a cocky grin. "Absolutely."

As Adora scowls back at her, that grin fades to something gentler, disarmingly so. It melts said scowl right off Adora's face. The last of her anger fades when Catra reaches out, resting a warm palm on her shoulder.

"Look, just try to get some sleep, okay?" Catra urges her gently. "You'll feel better in the morning."

"I don't know if I can now," mumbles Adora, quiet but jittery. Her foot taps, her eyes dart about. She claws at the back of her forearm, focusing on the sensations of sharpness on one side, shedding skin accumulating under her nails on the other. None of it does much to settle her frazzled nerves.

Catra frowns at the troubled body language, genuinely concerned. What could calm Adora down and make her see reason, or at least convince her to not do anything stupid like sneak out in the middle of the night? Catra does not want to get stuck guarding her door, or…

Oh. Right.

Sighing as she rakes a hand through her hair, Catra peeks at Adora out of the corner of her eye. "Would it be easier if I stayed with you?"

Adora's head snaps up, her expression pleasantly surprised. "I-I mean, yeah, probably," she bumbles with a terrible attempt at a casual shrug.

Catra snorts under her breath. "That easy, huh?"

Squinting defensively, Adora protests, "It calms me down, okay? You know that."

"Yeah, I do," admits Catra, trying not to smile. When she fails almost immediately, she quirks her lips into a less embarrassing knowing smirk. "Go on, then," she urges Adora, shooing her away with a hand. "Get ready for bed. I'll meet you there."

Adora obeys eagerly, leaving with one last excited peek over her shoulder, and Catra can't help rolling her eyes fondly. As the footsteps disappear down the hall, she sighs in relief that she managed to not make a complete fool of herself. That relief promptly melts away as she looks back to see Entrapta's hair at work, scribbling furiously in her notebook while her fingers continue to rub Scorpia's fuzzy scalp.

Heat flares in Catra's cheeks and she whips a hand out to bat the book out of Entrapta's grip. "Cut that out!"

Gaping at her as though the outburst was uncalled for, Entrapta remarks, "You told me to shut up, so I did." She waves the pencil in demonstration, pretending to zip her lips with a second lock.

Catra slaps a hand over her face and slowly drags her fingers down her cheeks. Good gods, how did she end up working with such a band of idiots?

"We're not an experiment, Entrapta," she says slowly, her tone equal parts admonishment and frustration.

"Obviously!" chirps Entrapta, hair snapping out to retrieve the notebook. "I'm merely recording observational data," she explains as she resumes her scribbling. "I'd have to intervene to make it an experiment, and that would be unethical."

Catra scoffs. "Since when do you care about ethics, oh hacker of the planet?"

Entrapta blinks up in surprise. "I have ethical dilemmas all the time, Catra. For example-"

"No examples," Catra cuts her off sharply. "I'm tired, I'm going to bed."

"With Adora…" Entrapta singsongs at her back as she retreats.

Catra whirls around, pointing a warning finger at her chest. "Entrapta, I swear to Hordak-"

Entrapta cackles with delight, slightly jostling the head on her lap and making Scorpia's eyelids flutter. How the hell did she sleep through all that, anyway?

"I'm just teasing, Catra. Gods, you're easy to rile up. At least when it comes to her."

"Do not make me break your recorder," growls Catra.

Glancing down at Scorpia's sleeping face and back up at Catra, Entrapta casually retorts, "I would not recommend that. My girlfriend is bigger than yours and she'll kick both your asses if I ask her to."

"She's not my-" Catra cuts herself off this time as she realizes she's playing right into the grinning inventor's hands. "Oh, shut up."

She storms away but can still hear Entrapta cackling. Catra is halfway down the hall before one of her ears flicks back, picking up Scorpia's bleary voice mumbling, "What- what did I miss?"

"Oh, do I have a story for you…"

"Shut up, Entrapta!"

***o***

Goosebumps rise under Catra's fur, prickling her skin as she strips off her tank top and hurriedly pulls a sweater over her head. Entrapta's lab is a warm enough space, but this room gets even colder than the Fright Zone prison at night. Last night she woke with chattering teeth and had to dig around in the musty old dresser and trunk to find warmer clothes and an extra blanket. Clearly her Horde-issued pajamas weren't going to cut it here.

To be fair, Dryl is basically a huge tin can. And unlike the Fright Zone, it's sparsely populated. From a resources management perspective, Catra can acknowledge that it doesn't make sense to heat the whole place. But couldn't Entrapta have given them rooms closer to her and Scorpia? If there's a reason she didn't, well, Catra doesn't want to know about it.

Slinging the big fluffy blanket over her shoulder, she pads down the hall to Adora's door, ignoring the queasy feeling in her gut. She's just here to calm Adora down, watch over her in the darkness. It's not like she didn't do this thousands of times in the Fright Zone. No big deal.

The soft knock on the door makes Adora bolt upright in bed, quickly smoothing out her shirt and hair. "Come in!"

The door cracks open and Catra quietly slips through, pushing it shut before wordlessly approaching the bed. Adora can't help grinning at the sight. Catra's ears are down, her eyes heavy with sleep, and her blanket is dragging on the floor behind her. It could only be cuter if she was sucking her thumb.

Eyes narrowing in a petulant glare, Catra grumbles, "Say one word, and I'm leaving."

Adora zips her lips in reply, but her grin doesn't go anywhere. Not until Catra turns for the foot of her bed, and her lips drop just as fast as her heart. One of her hands stretches out unbidden as she watches Catra curl up facing away from her, the warmth on her feet not nearly enough to combat the chill of loneliness inside her. Her chest aches with dashed hopes that she hadn't realized had risen so high.

Hand slowly closing into a fist, Adora's arm drops limply to the blankets. Her shoulders slump and she lies back down, pulling the covers up and getting as warm and comfortable as possible with Catra so far away. But she knows it won't be enough.

Cocooned in her fluffy blanket and quickly fading, Catra's self-soothing instincts kick in. It's not even a conscious choice to begin rubbing her cheek on Adora's ankles through the covers. Adora's feet smell so good. Yeah, they smell like feet, but they also smell like Adora. Catra can't help the purr that rises in her throat as she continues to bunt against her ankles.

"Catra?" Adora's voice wavers pitifully, just like it used to when she was a small child seeking solace in the darkness.

Nothing has changed since then, since Catra was a wee kitten with bestial instincts far too big for her body. Adora's distress call makes her ears prick up with sudden alertness, that same immutable instinct to comfort and protect this girl sinking its claws into her chest. When a conspicuous shiver runs down Adora's legs, Catra's remaining willpower to keep her distance dissolves in an instant.

"Fine, you big baby," she huffs. Dragging her blanket with her, she crawls up the bed and flops on her stomach next to Adora, throwing her right arm across her ribcage.

She's just gotten settled when she hears Adora whisper, "You can get in with me if you need." Catra tilts her head up just enough to make suspicious eye contact, and she quickly adds, "I don't want you to be cold."

"Is this all part of your master plan to get me into your bed?" deadpans Catra.

Adora's eyes narrow, her lips dangerously close to falling into a pout. "Don't tease me right now," she protests, "I'm still really upset."

"Then why did you ask me to stay with you?"

"Not at you, at myself," specifies Adora, obviously frustrated. "About Light Hope, and how I can't do anything to fix it. Not right now, anyway." There's a small but undeniable hint of bitterness in that last sentence, and it makes Catra frown.

"Sounds like you are still mad at me," she remarks.

"I'm not mad," huffs Adora, "I just…"

Adora's hand circles fruitlessly as she searches for the right word. Catra can't quite place the word either, but she knows what Adora means. It's a feeling she had to shove down far too many times in the Horde for her own safety and Adora's happiness.

"I wasn't trying to boss you around, you know. Or make things harder for you," she says cautiously. "I was just trying to protect you."

"That's not your job."

A dull pang strikes deep in Catra's chest, a hollow ache she knows oh so well. She can't help wincing at the hurtful words, but it's the blunt, dismissive way Adora said them that makes her eyes flash and ears fold back with a growl. Suddenly she's up on her elbows, glaring down at a shocked Adora.

"Are you shitting me?" she spits. "That has always been my job, Adora. Or are you forgetting who guarded your bed practically every night when we were kids? Who watched your back in every fight? And don't even get me started on protecting you from all the shit Shadow Weaver was doing to me behind your back."

Adora's wide eyes narrow slightly as she points out, "I never asked you to do that."

"Well if I hadn't, you would've had a massive breakdown and run to Shadow Weaver to try and fix it, and made everything worse for both of us."

"You don't know that," argues Adora.

"Yes I do," Catra says flatly.

Indignation flaring in her cheeks, Adora snaps, "Stop talking to me like I'm an idiot!"

"You're not an idiot," Catra clarifies with an eye roll, "you're just predictable. You always need to be the hero, and that's how you end up trying to fight a whole war by yourself and thinking the fucking world is going to end if you miss one training session. Talk about an ego."

"I'm She-Ra! Like it or not, the fate of the planet kind of does rest in my hands."

Catra huffs, averting her eyes. "As if you weren't bad enough already."

"Do you think I like this?" demands Adora. She squeezes her trembling fists, a feeble attempt to hide just how unhinged she feels. "Because trust me, Catra, I don't. If I could pass She-Ra off to someone else and run away, live out the rest of my life in peace, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

No more Light Hope. No more Alliance. No more letting people down. It's like something out of a dream.

"That's not true," scoffs Catra. "You wouldn't know what to do with yourself if you're not playing martyr for your latest cause."

Those words send a cold rush through Adora's head, shocking her into silence. Her eyes flee Catra's piercing gaze, back sinking into the mattress as the fight drains out of her. When she manages words, her voice somehow comes out both hard and small. "You know, if you just came here to insult me, you might as well leave."

Still absorbing the sudden shift in Adora's energy and admittedly more concerned than she wants to be, Catra takes a few seconds before asking, "Do you want me to?"

"No, I just want you to cut me a fucking break for once," grumbles Adora, still refusing eye contact. "I feel shitty enough as it is."

Something heavy sinks deep in Catra's stomach, her eyes falling shut with an irritated sigh. Fuck, she's done it again. Why can't she just be civil and handle a disagreement like a decent fucking person instead of aiming to kill every time Adora sets her off?

Feeling a new round of quivering afflicting the body beneath her, Catra looks up in alarm. Adora's face is tight, her eyes distant but pooling with unshed tears. It makes that place deep inside her chest ache once again. But this time it's not unfulfillment and humiliation causing the pain, it's failure and shame. Some protector she is, turning on her packmate with claws and fangs bared. She likes to think she keeps Adora safe and makes her happy, but she's doing a shit job of both.

Steeling herself, Catra resolves to make amends. She caused this breakdown, the least she can do is try her best to calm Adora down. Even if it means crossing a line she didn't want to.

Abandoning her blanket and the last of her dignity, she slips under the covers and settles directly on top of Adora. This should do it. The warmth and pressure does something that her companionship alone can't. Throw in the purring, and Adora usually melts like putty under her.

But Adora resists it this time. No, she doesn't consciously try to dislodge Catra, but her body fights against the comfort. Muscles tightening, limbs shifting, grunts of effort and distress escaping her throat.

Prying up finger after finger, Catra frees Adora's hands from their death grip on the sheets. Slipping them under her shirt and onto her lower back, she pushes them up through her fur, prompting Adora to rake her fingers through it. That usually helps calm her down. It takes a few seconds, but when Adora's hands start to move her muscles finally give up the fight, relaxing with a shudder.

Tears begin flowing down Adora's cheeks, borne of relief as much as sadness. It feels so nice. So, so nice. Warmth. Pressure. Vibration. Softness. The most soothing sound in the world. But despite the significant calming effect on her body and brain, her despairing thoughts persist. They just seem more… detached now, floating by like she's in some kind of dream state.

"The Alliance hates me…" murmurs Adora, glazed eyes pointed at the ceiling. "Light Hope's gonna be mad at me…"

Tightening her grip on Adora, Catra purrs harder in an effort to ease her mind. To drown out those thoughts she can so easily dismiss but Adora cannot.

"I can't lose you, too," whispers Adora.

Catra's ears perk up, her purrs ceasing as she lifts her head to look down on Adora incredulously. Nodding down at their entangled bodies, she asks, "Do I look like I'm going anywhere?"

Cheeks beginning to flush, Adora stammers, "I- well, no, but…"

"Adora, I want you around," Catra assures her, pressing a calming hand to her chest. "I'm just tired of you acting like I'm your weak little sidekick that you need to protect, like you couldn't possibly need any help from me. I commanded armies. I defeated Shadow Weaver. I am not a weakling."

Adora stares up at her in shock. "Do you really think that's how I see you?"

"What else am I supposed to think?" scoffs Catra. "You didn't believe I could have possibly defeated that spider in the ruins by myself. You even admitted you never had much faith in me after I saved your fucking life." Adora averts her eyes and Catra scowls into the darkness. "I wanted to take care of you too, but you wouldn't let me. You always had to be the hero."

"Okay, maybe I was bossy and overprotective sometimes," admits Adora. "But I didn't think you were weak. I never meant to make you feel that way."

It would be so easy for Catra to snipe at Adora, to throw up a front of anger to cover her pain. It's how she survived all those years in the Horde. But they're not in the Horde anymore. It's hard, it goes against her every instinct, but she looks Adora right in the eye and lets her see her pain. Hear her pain. "How else was it supposed to make me feel?"

Adora's eyelids flutter with surprise. "I'm sorry, I just…" Feeling her throat beginning to swell, she swallows hard and averts her eyes before she can break down in tears.

"Catra, your life was so hard, and it wasn't fair," she says, voice threatening to crack. "I wanted to make it easier in any way I could, take away some of your pain. I know it wasn't much, I know in the end you still got bullied and Shadow Weaver still hurt you, I just hated watching you suffer and feeling powerless to stop it."

Daring to glance back at Catra, she finds the girl watching her with a furrowed brow. When she finally speaks, it's with a calm voice and measured words.

"The problem is, Adora, when you acted like that you made me feel powerless," she explains. "Even more than I already did. You made me feel like I wasn't capable of taking care of myself or doing anything right, and that's the exact same shit Shadow Weaver used to say to me."

Adora feels her jaw slipping open, a sinking feeling in her chest. "So you're saying I made it worse."

"In some ways, yes," Catra says cautiously, holding Adora's gaze. While she doesn't want to set off another one of Adora's guilty spirals, she doesn't want to lie to her either. The last thing they need is more lies, and speaking her mind with honesty feels surprisingly good. "And then, you know, when I did protect you, it seemed like you didn't notice or care, or like it was so surprising that I could be of any use to you."

Catra's eyes drop as she swallows hard, combatting the sudden cramp in her throat. "And it- it hurt…" Her voice cracks despite her best efforts and she screws her eyes shut in frustration, and shame. Her last words are barely a whisper. "I felt so worthless."

A hand comes to rest on Catra's cheek and a shaky breath pushes its way out of her lungs. Blinking back the burning in her eyes, she lays her head on Adora's chest. Adora's hand moves to her scalp, scritching gently, and tears begin to leak from Catra's stubbornly scrunched eyelids. It's a comforting feeling, damn it, why is she crying?

"You're not worthless, Catra," murmurs Adora, her free hand now ghosting over Catra's back. "And you're not weak. I'd pick you in a fight any day. Not just to keep you safe, but because I feel safer with you. And I'm sorry I never told you that."

Those words draw yet more tears from Catra's eyes, evoke hints of elation and relief amongst the sorrow. Catra snuffles into Adora's shirt and swallows, intent on thanking her for telling her this. But when she opens her mouth, all that comes out is a sob. Her face crumples and she buries it in Adora's chest as more follow, her shoulders shaking as she begins to lose control.

Gentle fingers stroke her back, scratch behind her ears as Adora murmurs more comforting words. Her voice is soft, a soothing sound that makes Catra press tighter against her chest and inhale deeply. Adora smells like safety, like home. Sinking into that feeling, Catra finally lets go. She lets herself cry.

The guttural sounds spring forth like a fountain of long-repressed pain, tears streaming down and soaking into Adora's shirt. Her chest aches terribly at the sound. She tried her best to protect Catra until the day she left the Horde, but all that time she was inflicting more pain on her best friend. A deep pain she's never been able to express and release until now. Adora's not even angry with herself at this point, she's just sad. She understands exactly how fragile confidence and a sense of self were in the Horde.

A shiver runs down Adora's spine. She wants to comfort Catra, help her understand she was not so alone in that, but Adora avoids ever even thinking about this, let alone talking about it. But Catra was so brave, and Adora doesn't want to be the coward. When Catra's sobs wane into residual whimpers, she takes a deep breath and a leap of faith.

"Look, if it helps," she pushes out before she can stop herself, "I acted that way because I didn't want to be weak either."

Still sniffling, Catra blinks up curiously. Her eyelids flutter under the weight of her sodden lashes as she turns her chin to rest on Adora's chest. Adora has to look away. This is too hard to say otherwise. Scratching nervously at her own scalp now, she admits, "I didn't want to need anyone else. I wasn't allowed to. I had to be the best at everything or Shadow Weaver would get mad."

Adora remembers the crushing insults piling on her shoulders during those performance evaluations. Lazy. Stupid. Worthless. A bad leader. A disappointment. She remembers leaving Shadow Weaver's office in tears more times than she can count. Honestly, those lectures hurt more than getting hit. Being punished for misbehavior is one thing. Being chastised for failures when she was already doing her best, though? That was devastating.

"Oh, I remember," Catra mutters bitterly, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "If I beat you at much of anything other than footspeed she'd get on my case about 'dragging you down.' A few times I almost overtook you for top overall combat marks in our year and she took away my rations so I'd be too weak to fight."

Another wave of emotion crashes over Adora's brain, washing away all conscious thought as her grip on Catra tightens. When the ringing fades from her ears, she swallows just enough rage to growl, "I really hate her."

"Join the club," Catra huffs into her chest.

Adora snorts, twirling strands of Catra's hair around and around her finger. It's both a sign of affection and a convenient distraction. "I mean, come on," she says, forcing a chuckle, "I wanna beat you fair and square."

Catra scoffs, her claws flexing gently in Adora's shirt. "You wish." When Adora chuckles once more, a smile spreads across her face. That's one thing she's always been able to do for Adora. Make her laugh.

Cheek rubbing lazily across Adora's chest, she mumbles, "What did she say to you, when you weren't good enough?"

Adora stiffens, her hands freezing in place. Catra feels her throat bob against her head before she answers, "I don't really wanna talk about it."

Despite understanding this sentiment all too well, Catra can't help deflating, her lips falling into a frown. Obviously this stuff is hard to talk about, and she doesn't want to push Adora's boundaries when she keeps asking Adora to respect hers. But she just poured her heart out to Adora. Why can't Adora trust her the same way?

Feeling Catra sag slightly, Adora peeks at her face in concern. Disappointment is written all over it, and for once she understands why. They just talked about this, after all. Adora frowns, fidgeting involuntarily as frustration and guilt war within her. She hates baring herself this way, it's incredibly uncomfortable and everything she's been taught not to do. But if she doesn't, she'll just be proving Catra's point, won't she?

Reaching out, Adora turns Catra's chin slightly to prompt eye contact. Adora can only hold it long enough to fire off a weak smile before looking away. Clearing her throat, she says, "If I didn't do well, if the team didn't do well, she'd call me lazy or a bad leader, things like that." She can't help snorting slightly as she adds, "I guess she blamed all the misbehaviors on you and all the failures on me." Frowning into the darkness, she reflects, "It was like everything depended on my performance. Like the whole squad was dependent on me, especially you."

Catra raises an eyebrow. She doesn't want to attack Adora when she's vulnerable, but she can't resist giving her the tiniest bit of shit. "And you're telling me you didn't like that, not even a little?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Adora runs her fingers aggressively through Catra's back fur. "No," she admits, "part of me did. I mean, sometimes it was too much, but… I did like feeling like the stronger one. I liked thinking you needed me." Eyes floating up to the ceiling with an empty sigh, she asks, "Because if you didn't, what good was I?"

A clenching pain strikes deep in Catra's chest, making her wince as she looks at Adora's hopeless expression. This time she's the one reaching out to turn Adora's chin. Adora hesitates to look her way, and when she does her face is full of trepidation. She's probably expecting a volatile reaction to that admission. It's not like Catra can blame her for that. Hoping to set her mind at ease, she takes one of her hands and bunts her cheek against the back of it.

"Adora, listen to me, okay?" she states, voice soft and eyes steady. "You were the only good thing about my life in the Horde. Forget all that stuff Shadow Weaver said. I didn't need a savior, I just needed a friend." Gazing down at their hands, she links their fingers together. "It never mattered whether or not I needed you. I wanted you, okay?"

Adora's eyes are bright and wet, full of undeniable yearning as she stares up at her. "I wanted you too," she says, her voice quiet but raspy with desperation.

A dopey smile splits Catra's cheeks before she can stop it, and out of habit she quirks one corner up into a smirk. "Yeah, I know." Giving Adora's hand a tiny squeeze, she cocks an eyebrow. "Feel better?"

Eyelids fluttering, Adora squints. "Yeah, actually," she remarks, evidently surprised.

"Good," says Catra, smiling once again. Feeling an oncoming blush, she buries her face in Adora's chest and purrs playfully, culling a laugh from Adora.

Adora wiggles her hand free, and Catra is perplexed for a moment until she feels a hand scritching at each of her ears. Her eyes fall shut with a sigh at the heavenly sensation, tongue blepping out of her mouth ever so briefly. Though sleep is suddenly calling her, she pulls herself together just long enough to butt her head up under Adora's chin and order her, "Now, put that tired brain to rest. Sleep."

This time, Adora doesn't mind being told what to do.

A/N: Many thanks to MalachiWalker for beta reading this for me and helping me figure out what I didn't like about the first draft. It is so much better now. I've already recced her series Rhythm & Blues, but if you don't know she's now got a bartender!Catra au out and it is a lot more of this angst and hurt/comfort madness we are both known for.