"Unauthorized presence detected."

The words rang in Adora's ears, echoing up to where her consciousness floated somewhere far above her aching body. A distant feeling, like she'd forgotten something important, trickled through her mind.

Danger.

They were in the castle, but they weren't safe. Not yet. She tried to roll onto her uninjured side and pulled short, gasping as fresh, sharp pain lanced through her abdomen. One hand instinctively pressed to the wound, fingers slipping in something warm and slick.

"Not the same as last time, huh?" Catra said from nearby, the quiet, sarcastic bite of the words dulled by her panting breaths. It didn't sound like she was expecting a response—which was good, since Adora was pretty sure she couldn't give one.

The scrabbling in the walls was getting louder.

Right. Danger.

Adora pushed past the pain, slowly curling onto her good side and pressing a shaking hand to the floor.

"We can… fix this," she said, unable to get her voice much louder than a whisper. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather her strength. There wasn't much of it left.

It'd have to do.

She heard a soft scuffling, a groan, and then Catra's hands were on her arms, pulling her upright as she pushed weakly off the floor. She made it to her knees, then her feet, leaning so hard into Catra's unsteady support that for a moment she thought they'd both fall.

The way the room kept tilting really didn't help.

They stumbled further into the main room, where the blurry purple figure of a hologram stood on a small dias.

"Light Hope," Adora gasped out as soon as they were close enough, "It's me. Call off the spiders." Just a little longer, and then she could finally rest—

"Query not recognized."

What?

Adora squinted at the robotic tone, willing her eyes to focus. No… that wasn't Light Hope. It was the hologram they had encountered on her first visit to the Castle, the one that had disappeared after Light Hope finally recognized her as She-Ra. Why was it—no. It didn't matter.

"Get… Light Hope."

A pause.

"Query not recognized."

Adora groaned.

"Yeah, that sounds familiar," Catra said, her voice a mixture of annoyance, resignation, and exhaustion.

The distant clattering and scraping of the spiders grew louder still. They didn't have time for this.

"Give me the sword," she said, so quietly she feared Catra might not have heard. That fear was immediately dispelled when Catra's head whipped to face her, eyes wide.

"What? No. No way."

"No time," Adora gritted out.

"No," Catra repeated, anger edging into her tone. "It'll—for the love of Etheria, Adora, that could kill you."

"We can't fight them. Not.. like this." She clenched her eyes briefly against a wave of heat and pain, and opened them to see a glimmer of reluctant agreement in Catra's expression. "If I don't try this—we'll both die."

"I'll fight them off myself," Catra said, but the confidence of her words rang hollow.

"You can't." Adora was too exhausted to care about the way Catra stiffened. "Not all of them. Not alone."

"Don't tell me what I can't—"

"Catra." The room kept darkening at the edges, fading in and out of focus. "Please."

Slowly, reluctantly, Catra pulled the sword from the bag on her back and held it before her, just beyond Adora's reach. The scrabbling, clicking sounds of the spiders grew ever louder through Adora's distorted hearing—they must be at the door now, or spilling through the entryway behind them—she didn't dare look.

Catra moved the hilt of the sword toward Adora, then pulled back slightly. "Adora, I don't—"

Adora never heard the end of that sentence, because with a sudden burst of energy, she shot her hand toward the hilt and latched on.

It was like being thrown face-first into a blizzard, drowned, and electrocuted all at once. She would have gasped if she could pull any air into her body. She'd pushed through the magical assault before, bent the sword to her will just long enough to save Catra from Octavia's grasp—she could do it again. She had to do it again.

Her mouth opened, but trying to speak was like trying to draw breath against a frigid wind. It stole the air from her lungs. She couldn't inhale. Again. Try again.

She wrenched air into her body, just enough to get out the words.

"For the honor… of Grayskull." A gasping, pathetic whisper, but enough.

Because suddenly, everything was so much worse.

Waves of crackling, broken energy coursed across her body, electrifying every nerve. She was dimly aware of Catra being thrown back by the burst of magic, dimly aware of something that sounded like her own voice screaming. Transforming into She-Ra under normal circumstances felt like stepping into a pool of warm, golden energy, but this—this was like being pulled, stretched, squeezed into a form that wasn't hers. Pressed, pressed, pressed through a crack in the ground until she melded into unspeakable heat of the lava that lurked far beneath the dirt, molten until there was nothing of her left.

And then… it was bearable.

The screaming stopped, and she realized she was standing on her own. The normally pristine uniform was as bloodied and torn as before, and her side was still alarmingly warm and damp, but the suffocating heat was just… gone. It would have been an improvement, if not for the irregular, pulsing waves of magical energy that crackled across every limb, threatening to bring her to her knees, or the horrible, insistent feeling that this body was not hers, not hers, not hers, let go—

The hologram's voice cut through the roaring in her ears.

"Administrator detected."

Finally.

The hologram fuzzed out, replaced in the next instant by Light Hope's familiar form. Her eyes flicked across the scene before her, face falling into a surprised expression.

"Adora? What happen—"

"Call. Off. The spiders." A wave of broken energy crackled across She-Ra's form, and Adora doubled over, almost falling to her knees. She dimly processed Catra reaching out to her. It wasn't right, wasn't right. Something didn't want her in this body, but she couldn't let go of it. Not yet.

Light Hope waved a translucent hand. The scrabbling, hissing sounds halted, then resumed, rapidly fading as the spiders retreated back into the castle's walls.

There.

Another wave of broken energy coursed across her body, and this time, she didn't fight as the unseen force shoved her violently from She-Ra's body back into her own. A jagged burst of light, and Adora dropped to her knees, gasping for breath. Whatever strange aspect of the transformation had held her fever at bay was gone, now, and the returning rush of heat was like being thrown into a furnace.

Light Hope called her name, but she couldn't listen, couldn't think. The darkness was returning, fading Adora's world to a pinprick of purple light. There was a hand on her back, her shoulder. The touch felt like it was on someone else's body.

"The sword," Adora managed. "...please." Fix it.

The darkness won.

She was burning alive.

Her skin was boiling, every breath she drew like lava trickling down into her lungs. It overrode even the constant pain in her side, in her head. Heat. Everything was heat. Suffocating heat, too thick, too hot to breathe through—

—breathe—

—she couldn't breathe.

Something cool touched her face, tilting her head back, and suddenly air came easier. Words were spoken, worried, pleading, familiar. She couldn't understand them.

She drifted.

When Adora woke, the heat seemed to have lessened. It was almost tolerable now, though still uncomfortably warm, and oddly localized to her back and one side of her face.

Awareness came to her slowly. She was on the floor, angled in a position that lessened some of the ache in her ribs and eased her breathing, half-sitting, half-lying against something soft. Something soft and warm. Something soft, warm, and vibrating.

Catra.

She tried to say something, but all that escaped was an unsteady breath. Additional senses gradually filtered in: the steady beat of Catra's heart against her ear. The slight rise and fall of her breathing against her back. The soft vibration of the purr in Catra's chest, broken occasionally by a slight hitch. It did that, sometimes, when Catra forced a purr out for comfort—either Adora's or her own.

The vibration faltered again, this time accompanied by a catch in Catra's breathing. Adora suddenly realized that, in this position, she was was essentially a slab of limp muscle pressing her injured friend into a wall. She tried to sit up, to push away from Catra before she hurt her more, but all she could manage was a twitch and a groan.

A hand tightened on her uninjured side, the warmth of its grip muffled to a more tolerable level by layers of cloth.

"Don't move." The voice was quiet, right above her. The breath of the words moved a few loose hairs to tickle Adora's forehead.

"H—" Adora tried, then swallowed. "Hurting you."

"No."

Several protests sprang to Adora's mind, but garbled and twisted together into a form she didn't have the energy to untangle. A crease settled between her brows, and she managed to move one arm enough that Catra's hand came up to still it.

"I said don't move."

Adora's argument came in the form of a groan.

"Just listen to me for once," Catra said, frustration leaking into her tone. "Would it kill you to—" she broke off.

Adora managed to briefly pry her eyes open during the ensuing silence, but the dark, blurry image of the castle's interior didn't seem worth the effort. Keeping her mind from drifting back into the quiet, welcoming darkness took all her concentration.

"You weren't breathing right," Catra said, finally, quietly. "I didn't know—a couple times—" her voice pitched dangerously, and she paused. "A couple times I thought you weren't breathing at all. I had to… I had to make sure."

Oh.

That didn't sound good.

She felt distant pang of guilt at the raw concern in Catra's voice. Talking was still taking an absurd amount of effort, but she managed to breathe out a word: "Sorry."

She felt the jostling movement of Catra's almost-laugh, followed by something that might have been a wince. "Yeah, you should be."

She wanted to see Catra, make sure she was all right, find out what was going on—but simply opening her eyes again was starting to feel like an insurmountable task. Exhaustion crept back over her, and she felt herself relax back into Catra's warmth. The last thing she felt was a gentle vibration stirring against her back as she fell back into sleep.

The next time she woke, it was with a much greater sense of awareness. She was laying down on something cool and hard, the warmth at her back gone but replaced with a new, lesser warmth wrapped around one wrist.

Adora blinked slowly, the purple hues of the crystal castle's interior gradually coming into focus. She turned her head to one side, slowly realizing that she was laying on a slab of crystal raised above the floor. A mound of dark, wild hair lay at her side. Catra was sitting on the floor, arms crossed on the edge of the slab, head resting on her forearms, fast asleep. One hand was curled loosely around Adora's wrist, fingers resting just where her pulse beat beneath her skin.

It wasn't long before the crease between Catra's brows slowly deepened and she blinked awake. A guarded expression flitted across her face when she noticed Adora staring at her, followed by relief, then a more neutral expression.

"About time you woke up," she said, stretching a bit before pulling back with a wince. "I was getting a crick in my neck."

Adora's response was to close her eyes with a soft, amused exhale. When she opened them, Catra's gaze was on her again, appraising.

"How're you feeling?"

Adora took a moment, assessing the question. Her side hurt, of course. Her head sent a stabbing reminder of its abuse through her temple when she'd moved it, and her… everything ached from using the sword's broken magic again. However, her mind was a little clearer, now. The oppressive heat, for whatever reason, seemed to have receded somewhat.

"Okay," she said, almost surprised by the rasp of her own voice. She looked down, noting the fresh white cloth wrapped around her midsection. A faint blotch of red was visible, but darkened as though the bleeding had stopped some time ago. She twitched a hand toward the bandages. "Thanks."

Catra glanced away. "Uh, yeah." She cleared her throat. "It only opened a little, so. At least you didn't completely ruin my work."

"Sorry if my bleeding is an inconvenience to you," Adora said, letting her eyes close with a faint smirk on her lips.

"Oh, it is. It really, really is."

Adora's smile twitched a little wider, and her eyes opened again to glance around the room. They were still in the main room of the castle, although they'd moved against one of the far walls. She looked down at the slab of crystal she was laying on.

"This is new."

"Thank your hologram friend," Catra said with a vague gesture to the dais. "I asked if there were any beds around here, and then she waved her hand and this thing popped out of the wall."

"Huh. Didn't know she could do that."

"Really appreciated the way she disappeared when I asked for one big enough for me to lay on, too." Sarcasm dripped from Catra's tone, and Adora winced.

"Sorry."

"Whatever," Catra said with a shrug of her good shoulder, then tapped one claw on the bed's solid, shiny surface. "Not missing out on much."

She had a point. The beds in Bright Moon may have been too soft for her tastes, but a firm mattress was still miles more comfortable than a solid slab of rock. Adora's back was starting to go numb.

"Did Light Hope say when she'd come ba—" Adora's words were cut off by Light Hope's abrupt appearance only a few feet away. Catra jumped, yelped, and winced.

"Adora," Light Hope said, completely ignoring Catra's reaction. "I am pleased you are awake."

Catra seethed in her general direction.

"Yeah, me too," Adora said. Then, a sudden rush of realization, her gaze darting around the room: "Wait—the sword—"

"The Sword of Protection is in my care," Light Hope said. Adora relaxed slightly, and Light Hope nodded her head toward Catra. "This one brought it to me."

"'This one' has a name, you know," Catra growled.

"Yes, I am aware."

Catra's lip curled to expose one fang in a half-hearted snarl.

The exchange swam past Adora's ears. "The runestone? Can it—" She took as deep a breath as she could manage, bracing for the answer. "Can it be repaired?"

The few seconds of silence following her question seemed to stretch out into an eternity. An eternity where She-Ra would never return, where Adora had managed to destroy Etheria's most powerful runestone and lock away its most valued defender within mere months of taking up her mantle.

"It can."

The air Adora held caged in her lungs rushed out in relief.

"However," Light Hope continued, and Adora tensed again. "The process is extremely complex."

Of course. Of course it was. It was a runestone—something ancient, something full of magic, something Adora would never understand, and she broke it. Who knew how long it would take to fix? Months? Years? For all they knew, it could be longer than their lives—not that it those would be particularly long, since without She-Ra, the princess alliance would collapse again, Hordak would conquer Etheria, balance would be lost forever and the entire planet would be destroyed—

A hand squeezed her arm just hard enough to hurt, and Adora yanked out of her spiral to see Catra staring at her from the corner of faintly worried eyes. The grateful smile she offered felt more like a muscle spasm. Light Hope was still talking.

"Based on its current rate of repair and several simulations, I can state with 97.3% certainty that the shortest possible time until full operational capacity will be two hundred and seventeen point five—"

Days? Weeks? Years?

"—minutes."

Minutes.

Adora blinked, stunned, and a short, almost hysterical laugh escaped her.

Light Hope's eyes landed on Adora. "Is something amusing?"

"No. Not at all. I'm happy. Very happy—that's fantastic."

"Oh." Light Hope seemed taken aback by the response. "It is… pleasant to have one's work appreciated."

"Oh, it's very appreciated. Thank you."

"You are welcome." The words seemed unfamiliar to her, an almost soft expression passing across her face. It dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. "I must attend to the repair process. In the meantime," Light Hope gave a pointed, distasteful glance toward Catra while continuing to address Adora, "Do not die. It would be a significant setback."

"You got it," Adora said, weakly. The hologram disappeared, and Catra made a rude gesture toward the empty space it had occupied.

Adora exhaled a laugh, almost giddy with relief. The sword could be repaired. Her mistake could be fixed.

Catra's exasperated voice cut through her thoughts.

"Are all your rebellion friends this annoying, or is it just the one with dumb names?"

It was nice to hear the familiar, teasing lilt underneath Catra's annoyance. "Oh, just the ones with dumb names."

Catra's tail swished, then stilled as her eyes widened in realization. "Etheria—you all have dumb names." She dropped her head dramatically onto her forearms, which were crossed across her knees. "I'm doomed."

A smirk. "Yep."

Adora started to squirm a bit, then pulled short with a quiet gasp. Moving probably wasn't the best idea, but—she really was starting to go numb.

"Help me up, would you?"

It was far from a pleasant experience, but a few moments later Adora was leaning against the wall, head pressed back against cool crystal as she took deep breaths and exhaled slowly around the stabbing ache spreading through her abdomen. It hurt, but at least sitting up relieved the itch in her skin that always came when she remained motionless for too long. Her eyes roamed the interior of the room, landing briefly on the few pillars of crystal that jutted from the floor. She hadn't spent much time observing them before, but there wasn't much else to do at the moment.

Ventilation Systems, the First Ones writing on one pillar read, a jewel-toned crystal residing in its center. Environmental Controls, read another, then Emergency Lighting, then Contaminant Eradication, and—

—wait.

No, it wouldn't be just sitting there.

Would it?

"Catra?"

"Mm?" Her head jerked up, and she blinked rapidly. Adora realized with a pang that she had slept—well, if you counted "mostly unconscious, possibly about to die"—but she didn't know if Catra had gotten any real rest.

She'd worry about that in a minute.

"See that pillar over there?" she asked, nodding in its direction. "Can you get the control crystal out of it?"

"Why?"

"I'm curious about something."

"Oh, well, anything to satisfy your curiosity," Catra said, the words lacking any real bite. She heaved herself to her feet with a pained grunt and crossed the room. A clawed hand reached for the crystal. "Just so you know," she said over her shoulder, "If I get eaten by spiders for this, I'm coming back to haunt you."

The crystal came free easily, but instead of a fresh swarm of spiders, the translucent, thoroughly annoyed figure of Light Hope popped into existence directly beside Catra. She jumped with a stifled yelp, then settled her expression into a venomous glare.

"Shit I hate that—"

"You," Light Hope said, flatly, ignoring the outburst. She turned to Adora.

"Why has she removed the control crystal? Without it, I am unable to activate the castle's security protocols. We will be left unprotected."

Ha. So she'd guessed right after all.

"No offense, Light Hope," Adora said in what she hoped was a placating, reasonable tone—did tone even matter to holograms? Worry about that later— "But the protection system has been a little… overzealous in the past. I think we'll both feel a little more comfortable if we just hang onto the crystal for now."

"You will feel safer if you are defenseless?" Light Hope said. Something about the words made Adora feel very stupid.

"Just for now," She repeated. "We'll put it back before we leave. Promise."

Holographic eyes narrowed. Annoyance? Disappointment? She tried not to care.

"I suppose I cannot stop you."

Adora grimaced as Light Hope's figured vanished.

There was silence for a moment, then Catra lifted a finger to point toward where Light Hope had been standing.

"You train with that? Like, daily?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"And you're still sane because…"

A smile tugged at Adora's mouth. "Years of experience with difficult personalities."

Catra had almost returned to Adora's side, but now stopped short, dangling the crystal in the air before her.

"So you're saying I should drop this."

"—No!"

"—Because that's what I'm hearing right now."

"You are such a pain in the ass."

With an exaggerated motion, Catra mimed dropping the crystal.

Unfortunately, she did a pretty good job. Before she realized the joke, Adora instinctively tensed in an effort to lean forward and catch the crystal before it shattered on the floor—a motion her side wound did not find particularly amusing. A fiery lance of pain shot through her stomach, a quiet groan escaping as she pressed her head back against the wall and forced her muscles to relax.

"Shit—sorry." The words were closer now, a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

Adora exhaled, trying to force the pain past her clenched teeth along with her breath. It half-worked.

"Peachy," she said. She opened her eyes, feeling a small smile curve her mouth at a sudden realization. "You know, I haven't heard you say that in a long time."

The hand dropped away. "Say what?"

"Sorry."

Catra's eyes widened faintly before her gaze darted away, ears turning back to press down against her skull. Her mouth opened, then closed. "Yeah, well. Maybe I—" She cut herself off, still refusing to look at Adora, and a small seed of panic bloomed in Adora's chest that she'd pressed too far, too fast. Catra drew her knees up. "Don't get used to it."

Her gaze bored a hole into the ground.

Don't panic. It's okay. She'll be fine. We'll be fine. Just talk about something else—

"The crystal?" Adora said, finally. Great topic, Adora.

Catra started almost imperceptibly. "What? Oh—right." She raised one hand to offer it toward Adora, who shook her head.

"I wanted you to hang onto it."

The outstretched hand faltered. "What?"

"You didn't have… the best time, last time you were here," Adora said, and Catra snorted softly. Yeah, she'd allow that was an understatement. "I want you to feel safe. At least, as safe as you can."

"Well, uh." Catra shifted, shoving the crystal into her hip pocket. "Thanks. I guess."

Adora felt strangely awkward, and simply nodded in response.

The hole in her side chose that moment to remind her of its presence, sending a stabbing pain through her midsection. She curled slightly forward and groaned, eyes shut, feeling a drop of sweat roll down her temple. The horrible, mind-melting warmth had receded—a side effect of the sword being partially repaired, maybe? She still had no idea how healing worked with that thing—but it was still there. Her eyes opened again to find Catra staring at her, eyes tight with concern. The warm weight of her hand rested on Adora's shoulder.

"Y'know," she wheezed, trying to lighten the mood, "Whenever Bow and Glimmer finally get their act together and find us, I am never going to let them live this down. 'Master Tracker,' my—"

Adora broke off in confusion. Catra had snatched her hand away as if burned, and now stared at the floor, muscles taut.

"… Catra?"

She didn't say anything, a muscle in her jaw tensing.

"What's wrong? Did I say something—"

"No," Catra bit out, and Adora almost flinched at the intensity. "No," she repeated. "It's…" she paused a moment, as if working herself up to get the remainder of the sentence out. "It's something I said. Didn't say," she amended.

Adora felt her anxiety spiking.

"What is it?"

"In the woods—when you were—I saw your friends," she rushed out, voice grating ever so slightly on the last word. "They were looking for you. I didn't—they didn't see me." There was another pause, as if Catra was still fighting with herself. "They didn't see me because I was hiding. And when I decided not to hide anymore, it was too late—"

Too late? A dim sense of horror passed through Adora's numb mind, and she choked out a question: "Are they alive?"

Catra's brow lifted in surprise. "Oh, yeah. I mean, there was a beast—" Adora's heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of her chest, "—but they were fine. Sparkles teleported both of them right out of danger."

Relief flooded through Adora, and it was a moment before her mind caught up. "Okay, so why were you so worked up?"

Catra just stared, blinking in confusion. "I… because I hid. I kept thinking they might leave me behind, or take me with just to throw me in prison, and I-" Adora couldn't help but snort quietly, and Catra's eyes snapped to her.

"What?"

"Nothing, I... I just don't think Bright Moon even has a prison." Catra blinked, then sighed in a way that said you've got to be kidding me. "I'm sorry, keep going."

Catra took a breath. "Well, prison or not, I'd made up my mind to do it anyway, but… it was too late. And now we're here," her claws scraped against the crystal as her hand clenched, "instead of in Bright Moon, where you belong. Where you could be getting better."

"I am getting better," Adora said, firmly. Catra arched a brow, and she wilted a bit. "I think. Well, I'm pretty sure. I don't think I'm getting worse?"

"That's very reassuring."

"Look, Catra, you—" Adora began, starting to shift so she could fully face her, then pulled short with a wince. She settled for covering Catra's hand where it lay tensed on the crystal slab. Catra twitched, but didn't pull back. "You saved my life," she said, earnestly.

"After endangering it in the first place," she mumbled.

"Well, yeah." Adora grinned. "You do kind of owe me for that."

Catra finally raised her eyes to look at Adora, a faint sense of disbelief written on her face. "Why aren't you mad about this?"

Adora paused, considering. "Well, I might be. A little." She could feel the disappointed resignation emanating from Catra's form, and hastened to continue. "But you decided to talk to them anyway, even if you didn't want to. Even if you ran out of time. That counts for something."

Catra relaxed almost imperceptibly.

"Doesn't feel like it."

"Doesn't matter." Adora squeezed her fingers slightly.

There was silence for a moment, then the corner of Catra's mouth twitched up in a teasing grin. "Etheria, you're such a sap."

Adora pulled her hand away to flick her in the leg. "Look, one of us has to know what emotions are."

Catra's grin stayed, then faded slowly. She shifted. "I still… I feel like I should… apologize."

"For what?" Adora said in genuine surprise, then winced at Catra's sharp glance. What a time to be an idiot, Adora.

"The thing with your friends." She waved a dismissive hand. "Arrow boy and Glitter."

"What you should apologize for is constantly mangling their names—"

"—never gonna happen," came the airy response. Catra shifted again, as if trying to pull the words from her throat. "Anyway, I'm… sorry."

The words came soft, her eyes meeting Adora's in an expression more open and vulnerable than she'd seen in a very long time, and she could read the unspoken words as easily as if they'd been graven into the crystal walls:

I'm sorry for more than just that.

A warmth filled Adora's chest. She reached again for the hand that lay between them, squeezing it in a way that was as much to comfort Catra as it was herself.

"I forgive you," she replied.

For more than just that.

A/N: And we're back! Hope you all had a great holiday season! This chapter was supposed to be longer and end in a cliffhanger, but this ended up feeling like a better place to stop, so... enjoy the break? xD

Thanks as always for reading! 3