Now Adora had to face the reality of what she'd done. The terrifying prospect of Catra—her Catra—fading away in front of her eyes, unrepentant. The thought of having to live the rest of her life with the blood of her best friend on her hands.
A crystal-clear image flashed behind her eyes: Catra, only a few moments from now, lifeless. Her wiry body no longer taut with power and energy but limp and weak. Her gemstone eyes no longer gleaming with mischief or flashing in anger but empty, flat, dull. Her skin no longer radiating warmth that sent a thrill through Adora whenever she was close, but cold. Dead. She was dead.
And Adora couldn't bear it.
"What have I done," she gasped out as she snapped back to reality, where Catra was not yet dead but dangerously close. Adora realized her hand was still on the sword, which was still buried in Catra's bleeding chest, and snatched it away to stare at it in horror. "What have I done?" As if in response, the feline gave a weak croak in her half-conscious state and it sent an arrow of both ice-cold guilt and red-hot determination shooting through Adora's insides. She should never have listened to Glimmer and Bow. She should never have agreed to hurt her friend like this. She was supposed to help people, not stab them! She had to heal Catra whether she decided to repent or not.
"Hold on," she pleaded with newfound conviction. She leaned over the feline's fallen form and took hold of the sword again, preparing to pull it out. Her other hand came to rest over the ragged wound. She could heal it. She would heal it. "Hold on, Catra. I'm so sorry." Her voice fell to a pained whisper as she felt her friend's blood pooling under her palm. "I can fix this."
She didn't wait another second before closing her eyes and allowing She-Ra's warm flow of power to trickle into her through the sword, gathering in a molten well somewhere deeper than her heart. She'd been practicing this since the portal, determined to make herself as useful as possible in the fight against the Horde. She'd honed her skills with Light Hope's help to the point that she didn't even need to be in full princess form to use it. She could pull the energy straight through the sword into her own body and channel it like a piece of She-Ra had become a permanent part of her. She hoped it would work this time.
The warm energy began to burn, and Adora closed her eyes as the searing feeling radiated through her skin in the form of a golden glow. It intensified until it was almost painful to witness, even through her tightly screwed eyelids, and that's when Adora directed it gently toward the hand that covered Catra's wound. It flowed down her arm the same way it had flowed into her from the sword, leaving a trail of flame tingling in her veins.
As the radiance hit Catra and the wounded girl let out a gasp, Adora began to pull the sword from her body with her other hand. She couldn't do it too fast, or the subsequent loss of blood would outpace the healing flow, so she forced her movement slow and steady as She-Ra's power did its work.
Once her eyes adjusted to the bright light, Adora was able to crack them open to watch the process. She could see Catra's wound healing in real time—muscle stitching back together to be gradually covered by new, scar-pale skin—and she let out a long breath of relief. Moments later she was able to pull the sword from Catra's flesh entirely and toss it away with a clatter, loathe to even look at it right now. In its absence she pressed both hands to the wound to speed along its final steps.
The glow faded as the healing waxed complete. Adora could feel the warmth of Catra's skin under her palms and it was almost as comforting as the steady rise and fall of her chest that accompanied it. Though her tawny skin was pale, she was alive, and that was all Adora cared about. All she had ever cared about.
Reluctantly, the princess let her hands slip away from the wound to let Catra breathe unimpeded. She had the urge to relocate them to the feline's own hand and grip it tightly, and because she was too relieved to care about the consequences right now, she did just that.
At the touch, Catra stirred weakly. "Adora?" All she could manage was a rough, barely audible croak, but Adora heard it as if she'd shouted.
"Yeah," she responded gently, rubbing her thumb over the other girl's knuckles soothingly. Trying to make up for the violently contrasting touch she'd administered just minutes ago. How could I have done that? She hoped vehemently that Catra would forgive her. At the same time, she knew how likely that was. "Yeah, it's me. You're okay."
"Adora," the feline repeated, a little stronger this time. She let out a groan and her eyes fluttered open and slowly slid to Adora's. The blonde almost cried at the sight of that lovely blue and gold —bright and alive. Still alive. "Adora, I'm sorry. I'm—"
The last thing Adora expected was for Catra to start crying. But as her words caught in her throat and her two-toned eyes locked on Adora's face and the weight of what had just happened came crashing down, the tears were inevitable. A sob left Catra's throat as her expression crumpled and she reached for her old friend as if she hadn't just stabbed her within an inch of death. As if no angst or anger or bloodshed had happened between them in the last several months. As if they could just be Adora and Catra again.
Adora surged gladly into the embrace, sliding her own arms carefully around the smaller girl and pulling her close to feel her heartbeat against her own chest. As if she was agreeing that none of that had happened. Begging to agree to just be Adora and Catra again. And the comfort of Catra's living warmth was powerful enough to smother the guilt and allow her to, for now. Powerful enough for her to say, "It's okay. I've got you," and be absolutely convinced of every word. Catra's fingers curling tightly into Adora's jacket said that she felt it too.
But of course the moment could not last.
A flash of pink sparkles and a tinkling trill marked Bow and Glimmer's entrance. "Adora!" Glimmer cried expectantly as she materialized. In a single glance she took in the sight: Adora on her knees, Catra in her arms with a bloody tear down the middle of her shirt but no wound underneath, the Sword of Protection discarded. She beamed. "Did it work?"
Oh no. There was the guilt again. Before she could stop herself, Adora glanced down at Catra in a panic.
Catra was pulling back slowly, carefully, to meet her eyes. There was a shadow coming over hers to replace the relief they'd just been basking in. "Adora?" she asked uncertainly, voice still hoarse. Her fingers began to relax their desperate grip. No. No, no, no, Adora thought frantically. "This was…just a setup?"
Adora could feel their momentary bond dissipating like mist. "No!" she blurted, too loud, unconvincing. She stared into Catra's gemstone irises with panic in her own, terrified that after everything she'd just end up screwing this up again. "No, Catra. I—" She couldn't lose Catra again. She couldn't. The first time had broken her heart, and she doubted that she could make it through a second. Catra was too important. And if her friends didn't agree with her, well, she supposed she would have to make that sacrifice. Because she was done ignoring what her heart was screaming at her.
When the feline began to pull away from her again, that was the last straw.
Adora whipped around to face Bow and Glimmer with her jaw set in vicious determination. "No," she said strongly. "I didn't heal her for you guys. I didn't do it for the Rebellion, or the princesses, or Etheria, or the greater good." She looked back at Catra, and her expression softened even as her grip tightened around her, not letting her go this time. "I did it because I can't hurt Catra anymore. Not like this."
The stunned pause didn't last long. Glimmer let out a groan of frustration and threw her hands up in the air. "I should have known this would happen!" she lamented, bringing one hand to the bridge of her nose so she could scowl into it. "You're still attached! Even after everything that's happened."
Adora returned her glare twofold. "Attachments don't have to mean weakness, Glimmer," she maintained, feeling for all the world like she was arguing with Light Hope.
"But she's done horrible things!" Glimmer cried, gesturing to the feline practically cradled in Adora's arms. "People have died because of her!"
"Didn't you hear her? She's sorry!" Adora was losing patience. All of them had done things they weren't proud of, including Glimmer. Adora had been a part of the Horde, for Etheria's sake! It was true that Catra's deeds were worse than most, objectively, but that didn't mean she couldn't atone for them. That didn't earn her a death sentence.
Glimmer fumed. "Sorry doesn't cut it. Sorry doesn't bring my mom back!"
Adora's anger was rising to match. Why couldn't Glimmer just try to understand for one measly second? Of course she missed Angella, but two wrongs didn't make a right. Tensely, deliberately, the blonde extricated herself from Catra and stood, positioning herself in front of her protectively. Facing her friends as if she were ready to fight them over this, because she was. "Killing Catra won't bring her back either," she said firmly.
"I can't believe this." Glimmer scoffed and turned to Bow for backup, but the archer didn't look like he altogether agreed. He was staring at Catra with his dark brows furrowed intently; evaluating. Calculating. That only frustrated the new queen further. She turned back with a snarl. "Adora, she's evil!"
"People can change," Adora maintained stubbornly. "You just have to give her a chance."
A shuffle from the ground behind her signalled that Catra was trying to rise. Adora turned instantly to help her; to demonstrate her sincerity, but the feline brushed her proffered hand away. She climbed to her feet alone, waited until she stopped swaying, and then shouldered gently past the blonde to face the Bright Moon queen herself. Her shoulders were taut with lingering pain. "Can you stop talking about me like I'm not here?"
"Oh, sure, furball," Glimmer spat sarcastically. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
Catra stared her right in the eyes, deadly serious. She took a deep breath before speaking. "If you want me dead, kill me. I deserve it." Adora made a noise of protest, but Catra cut her off with a raised hand. "—but do it yourself. Don't force Adora into it. She can't." The feline looked back and met her friend's eyes with an excruciating mixture of regret, emptiness, and affection that Adora didn't even know she still possessed. Her next words were a murmur: "I know she can't."
"Catra—" Adora began to plead, but again Catra shut her down, this time with a shake of her head. Without another word she and Glimmer returned to their staredown, one side heated, the other devoid of any temperature at all.
A second or a century could have passed while Adora stood there, waiting for the shockwave of her two worlds colliding to flatten her into ash.
Glimmer was the first to crack. She looked away with an angry tch, her whole body vibrating with anger. "Whatever. But she's your responsibility, Adora." She emphasized it with a jab of her finger. "If she destroys the world again it is your fault, and we won't be there to help you pick up the pieces."
"Fine," Adora agreed calmly, even as her insides were melting into a pool of mixed relief and dread. She hoped dearly that this wouldn't come back to bite her. She hoped even more dearly that Catra would be open to the idea and not just bent on ignoring her for the rest of her days. She hoped this sacrifice would be worth it.
"Fine!" returned Glimmer much less calmly. Without warning she grabbed onto Bow and the two vanished in a huffy puff of sparkles, leaving Adora and Catra staring at the spot they'd just vacated.
Left alone, a silence stretched long enough between them to become awkward, then uncomfortable, then unbearable. Sometime in the middle of it, Adora turned to look at Catra, and Catra slowly lifted her head to meet Adora's eyes. Hers looked…dull.
So much has happened between us, Adora realized with a rush of regret. None of it good.
"So you really had to stab me, huh?" Catra finally broke the silence, sounding just as painfully weary as Adora's thoughts. The princess couldn't read the look behind her deadened eyes.
Adora lowered her head in shame. The image of Catra bleeding out at her hand would cause her nightmares for years to come. She wished not for the first time that she'd simply refused her friends' plan. She should have been stronger. "Nothing else worked," she explained weakly.
"I get it," Catra replied to Adora's great surprise, lowering her head as well, her ears drooping in kind. "I'm—" Her throat jumped in a swallow like it was physically challenging to get the next words out: "I'm sorry it had to come to this."
Adora let out a long sigh through her nose. She could not describe how good it felt to be talking about this instead of fighting about it. She was so sick of fighting. Sick of fighting Catra. "Me too," she breathed. She ached to pull Catra into her arms again; to rest her brow against the feline's and simply exist with her the way they used to do a lifetime ago. But she couldn't, so she clenched her fists at her sides and tried to take things one step at a time.
Catra forced herself to look up and meet Adora's eyes. "I see now," she managed, voice still constricted. Her hand half-extended toward Adora like she, too, wanted to be held, but then she stopped and let it fall. Her gaze dropped again, but not before Adora could catch the sheen of tears. "I see that everything I've done was awful and unforgivable and you have every right to hate me for that."
"I don't hate you," said Adora instantly. Of all the things she could ever say to Catra, that one came the easiest. She had never hated her. Not even after the portal. Not even after she'd given up hope that she would ever see the light. Adora could never hate her.
Catra's chin jerked up in surprise. Adora wondered if Catra had thought differently; if she had used the belief that Adora hated her to fuel herself into hating the world. It was not hard to believe, and that broke Adora's heart all over again. Catra swallowed hard again before speaking. "I…I don't hate you either," she responded gently, so gently, as if the words might lose their truth if she held them too tight. And, it wasn't much, but it was the best they had right now, Adora thought. Only, Catra wasn't quite done. She looked up straight into gray-blue eyes, cleared her throat and continued, "So do you think…maybe we could try again?"
Adora's first thought was a resounding yes! but it was not quite that cut and dried. As much as Adora disagreed with Glimmer's tactics of late, she knew that she was right about one thing: Catra had hurt a lot of people, and that was not a sin easily forgiven. "It will take a long time to make up for what you've done, Catra," she reminded, more to convince herself than the other girl.
The feline nodded stiffly. One of her hands rose to rub gingerly over the new scar in her chest. "I know."
That motion sent a spike of guilt into Adora's own chest, and she finally gave in to the urge to reach out and touch Catra; to comfort her somehow. She grasped that searching hand in her own and held it firmly: a promise.
"But…I think, someday, we could."
And the way Catra looked up at her and almost smiled, she knew it to be true.
…