Title: your past so present you can feel your baby teeth

Rating: Teen

Full Summary: "This year has been the hardest of your whole life. So hard you cannot see a future, most days. The pain is bigger than anything up the whole horizon, no matter where you are. You feel unsafe, you feel unsaved. Your past so present you can feel your baby teeth. Sitting on the couch, you swear your feet don't reach the floor."
- "Angels of The Get-Through", by Andrew Gibson.

Adora left the Home a week after her eighteenth birthday in search of a life where she didn't have to hide who she was. But despite having braved a whole new world and built a life all of her own, she still has regrets. One of those regrets is leaving her best friend behind.

When Catra calls her on the burner phone hidden in her bag, Adora jumps at the prospect of a new beginning. But healing isn't easy, and Catra has demons of her own to conquer. She can't do it alone.

A story about growth, healing, and learning to live again after living your whole life in the shadows of an abusive cult.

Content Warning: No content warnings for this chapter. Though as a blanket warning, this fic addresses abuse and trauma, as well as cults.

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One

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"Lies and slander!"

Glimmer crosses her arms defensively before blowing a large bubble with her faded pink gum. It makes a distinct popping sound as she bites down on it, "It's true and you know it. You're obviously lawful good. You cried like a baby when we got sent to the principal's office that one time in third grade."

Bow frowns, "Glim. We were eight."

"I mean, yeah, but everyone knows that eight-year-olds are open books. Right Adora?"

Adora blinks.

"Uh. I mean…"

"See, Glimmer! Adora agrees with me."

"I didn't say that…"

"See Bow, Adora agrees with me ."

Adora stifles a sigh. The truth was that she'd barely even grasped the question to begin with. What sort of eight-year-old cries when they're in trouble? You're supposed to school your features and dutifully take whatever punishment you're given, right? Adora knew to do that by the time she was four.

But Adora doesn't say that. Bow and Glimmer are different than she is—they had normal childhoods, for the most part. Sometimes, Adora wonders if anyone in the world feels as alien as she does interacting with people like them, which is practically everyone she encounters. She ignores the bitter taste in her mouth at the memories.

But that was then, she reminds herself. She's out now. It's been two years since she lived in Sarah Weaver's shadow. Two years since she tip-toed through the echoing halls of the Home, overstuffed duffle bag in hand.

Nearly two years since she decided what she wanted to call herself.

"Adora? It's your turn," Glimmer says, expressive eyebrows drawn in a still-unfamiliar concern, "You okay?"

Adora takes in the scene in front of her. The many-sided dice, glittering iridescent purple in the dim lighting of the apartment. The popcorn sitting in a bowl on the floor next to Bow. The precise miniatures of herself and her friends, hand-painted by Bow with loving, nimble fingers.

She smiles.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."

And she really is.

They don't fall asleep until two AM—once Glimmer doses off on Bow's shoulder and Bow starts nodding off, Adora takes her leave. She gets into bed, melting into her soft, worn sheets, and she doesn't dream.

{1}

Adora holds back a sigh, eyes drawn towards the time displayed on the bottom right corner of her clunky laptop before diligently returning to the front of the classroom, where her teacher is lecturing about sixteenth century Spain. It's half past nine AM, and her stomach is probably growling loud enough for her teacher to hear from the next state over. She silently curses her roommate's night owl ways and the enticing allure of a late-night DnD session causing her to miss her morning run and be five minutes late to class and then forces herself to tune into the teacher's monotone voice.

She's two pages into her history notes and halfway through the lecture when the ringing starts. It must be one of her neighbor's phones, because it sounds close.

"I would appreciate it if you turned off your phones before the start of class. It's in the syllabus," the teacher says, dropping her monotone in favor of barely hidden irritation. Adora winces in secondhand pity for the poor soul who left their phone on this morning, furtively looking around to see who dives into their bag to silence it.

It takes longer than it should for her to realize that no one is checking their bags. It takes even longer for her to realize that everyone in the aisle is looking at her. She blushes fast and hot, clumsy fingers searching the inside of the inside of her bag for the pocket where she keeps her worn smartphone.

Only, it isn't even vibrating.

Oh.

She dives into her bag again, reaching near the bottom until her fingers wrap around another phone—an older model this time.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I have to take this," she says, standing up and grabbing her bag. She nearly trips over her long limbs on the way out in her hurry. Once she finally reaches the hallway, she brings the phone to her ear with shaking hands, "Hello?"

"Addie?"

Tears spring to Adora's eyes, and she has to hold back a sob at the name that rushes to her lips, "Catra?"

"Addie, I need your help. Can you pick me up?"

"Of course," Adora breathes unsteadily, "Where are you?"

"I'm in Bright Moon, at the Greyhound station. Near entry six."

"I'm on my way," Adora promises, "Do you want me to stay on the phone? I don't drive, so I'll have to call an rideshare."

Adora can hear Catra smiling in her own Catra way, "Nah, it's fine. I'll see you in a bit. You can't miss me."

"Okay."

"Oh, and Addie?"

"What?"

"Nevermind. I'll see you in a bit."

"I'll call you when I get there. You might not be able to recognize me. Don't be too shocked, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you when I see you."

When Adora hangs up the phone, there's a smile on her face the size of the sun. Maybe there's hope for Catra, after all. Maybe she can move past It too. Just like Adora did.

No matter what, Adora will be there every step of the way. Catra deserves that much, at least.

~.~

Author's Note:

Woohoo, I am PUMPED! I've been planning this fic since the end of She-Ra like last month and wow am I excited to share this with y'all! As you can see, it's an AU. Kind of a college AU with found family themes and lots and lots of diversity! Trans Bow and Adora! Disabled and mentally ill characters! Realistic depictions of trauma! Yay!

So I originally said that this wasn't a Catradora fic because up until now I wasn't super comfortable with the more unhealthy aspects of the ship, but I've decided to try and incorporate it later on in the series. In this installment in particular, though, Catra is just leaving an extremely abusive cult situation and is nowhere near ready for a relationship yet.

Anyway, please let me know if you like this fic! Again, I'm super excited to finally be sharing it!

Much love,

Aster