Catra operated under the assumption that she had lost her job at the power plant. She couldn't bend anymore, after all, and she didn't see any point in showing up to face Weaver one last time. The wicked woman would probably laugh in her face for her misfortune and then proceed to beat her again just for the hell of it.

Adora returned to the Underground nightly as soon as she was back in fighting shape (the crowd's love for their precious Shira apparently outweighed their hate for her companion), and her winnings went a long way in making sure she kept her residence in Razz's guest room, where Catra now lived with her. She didn't lose anymore. Ever.

Stonefist never showed his face there again. A smart decision on his part, but a disappointing lack of closure for Catra and Adora. Either one of them would have been happy to cave his fucking head in if he'd tried.

Razz offered Catra a job, and Catra had little choice but to accept, since she did not intend to continue living off of Adora like a leech.

Their new way of life was all right. It couldn't be called happy, exactly, when Catra was stuck in such a deep fog of grief and anger that she could barely focus, or when Adora came home every night with her knuckles bleeding and told Catra it was fine; it was just how she coped. But it was monotonous, and that meant it was relatively safe, and safety was a luxury they hadn't often gotten to enjoy.

And they had each other, which was the best part. Even though they operated on different schedules, which meant they rarely had free time to sit down and talk, the small moments they caught in between were like healing salve on their respective wounds. Often they simply basked in each other's company, sharing tender touches and looks that were so new to them both but felt like coming home. They figured they were together now, in many ways, and though it went unspoken it was as clear as day. It was better this way. They were better together. They got better together, slowly.

And the routine and the coping and the togetherness and the healing all worked well, for a while.

Then one night Adora came home early.

She came bursting through Loo-Kee's front door a little breathless, her face pale, and Catra couldn't tell on her first glance whether she looked more excited or panicked. She lowered the stack of empty bowls she'd been hauling to the kitchen in favor of catching her companion midstride.

"Adora?" she questioned, more than a little concerned when Adora's eyes landed on her and they shined gray. "What is it? Why are you back so soon?"

Adora cracked her battered knuckles absently. "Can I talk to you upstairs?"

That phrase made Catra's stomach plummet into her toes and every foul deed she'd ever done began running through her mind as she tried to guess which one Adora had found out. But still she nodded shortly and followed the taller girl through the doorway and up to their living space, trying to quiet her trembling hands.

At the top of the stairs, Adora pulled the curtain shut behind her and as soon as they were alone she blurted softly, tightly, "The Underground is gone."

"What?" Catra had heard her perfectly well, but she was too stunned to wrap her head around the news. Her relief that it wasn't about her was overshadowed by dread of a new sort. "Why? How?"

"The Avatar defeated Amon. The Equalists scattered. Everyone at the Underground was—it was basically one big Equalist sympathizers rally. Now they're all too scared to show up."

"What will you do now?" Catra asked, feeling panic up flutter in her throat for the millionth time in her life and trying not to let it seep into her voice. If Adora was out of an income, they would be living only on Catra's earnings from Loo-Kee. That wasn't enough to feed them both, much less keep paying their rent. Would she have to find another job? Would Razz be willing to support them both?

Adora sensed her distress. She took a step back from Catra, giving her space, and reached to take her hands. Her touch was warm and helped to steady her wild thoughts. "I have an idea about that," she assured soothingly, "but first, there's something else you should know."

Catra's system couldn't take many more shocks tonight. She swallowed and nodded and waited for the news with her heartbeat thrumming in her ears.

"The Avatar," Adora began, running her thumbs along Catra's knuckles to ground her. "She's found out a way to heal people from Amon."

Catra couldn't breathe. "You mean—?"

Adora nodded, chancing a smile paired with earnest eyes. "Your bending," she affirmed. "She can give it back."

Catra's knees felt weak and her body felt too hot and too cold at the same time and she didn't know why because she was thrilled, just—it was so overwhelming, because she'd grappled with and struggled through and tried to come to terms with her new reality because the possibility of ever regaining her bending was impossible and—

"Catra!"

She didn't realize her vision had gone spotty and she'd started to sway until Adora's hands grabbed her around the waist. She gripped the taller girl's biceps and blinked rapidly. "Sorry," she mumbled, "I—"

"No, I'm sorry. I should have told you to sit down first," Adora laughed a little too breathily, guiding Catra to the chair by the window and then kneeling in front of her. Her hands relocated themselves to the brunette's knees. "So do you want to go see her?"

"Obviously!" Catra still felt like she was buzzing all over, but it was in a good way for once. A rare smile was spreading over her face. Her hands shook as she laid them over the other girl's.

Adora laughed and her eyes sparkled beautifully. "I thought so. But, um…" Those lovely irises dropped and Catra could see her chewing at the inside of her cheek.

"What?" she pressed. Was there a catch? Of course there would be. She leaned in to await Adora's answer, but at the same time she was shrinking into herself, preparing for disappointment.

Adora met her eyes again. "She's at the Southern Water Tribe. It would be a journey."

Catra wasn't immediately sure how she felt about that. She picked at a scab on her knuckles. "How do you know?"

"The police chief just got back from there. She did a press conference. She was the first one the Avatar healed." Adora pulled Catra's hand away from making the scab bleed.

"How would we get there?"

Adora shrugged lightly. "Train, then boat, I guess. Unless you know any airbenders who can just pop us over there."

Catra laughed in the back of her throat. "I wish." She turned her hand over to run her fingers along Adora's jaw affectionately. "You don't have any secret airbending powers, do you, babe?"

Adora's blush was instant, but she managed a laugh as well. "Not as far as I know." Then she sobered, gazing up at Catra with a steady intensity. The look made Catra's chest feel tight and full at the same time. "If you want to make the trip, I'll come with you. I'll stay by your side."

And of course Catra wanted that; of course that sounded like the best idea that'd ever met her ears, but— "Adora, how will we pay for it?"

"We have enough for the trip there."

Adora's words sank in slowly. The way she was working her jaw again was proof enough that something was wrong. "And the way back?" Catra prompted hesitantly.

Adora held her eyes, but didn't say anything.

Catra let out her breath explosively. "Adora, I can't ask you to do that. You've already—"

"I have a way."

Catra stopped. The way she'd said that did not make her feel better about this at all. She narrowed her eyes to study her partner's face, lingering on the shadows making her irises look gray. Adora slid her gaze away. "Adora, what is it?" Catra asked softly, bringing her fingers under the other girl's chin again to coax her head back up. "If it's something bad, I don't want you to do it. I'm not worth that."

"You are." Adora's conviction was startling, and her hand came up to squeeze Catra's tightly. Then her grip faltered. "It's…about my village. And I'll do it. I'd do anything for you."

Her village. The place she couldn't go back to. The place that made her so upset to talk about. Catra couldn't ask that of her. "No. Adora, don't—"

"We're going to get your bending back," Adora interrupted her firmly. "I just need time to…prepare."

Catra still had no idea what that meant, and not knowing was gnawing a hole in her gut almost as painful as the place her bending used to be. But she trusted Adora, and if she was dead set on going through with whatever it was about her village that she dreaded so much, Catra was willing to give her all the time she needed to prepare. Especially if it was in an effort to help her. She wished Adora wouldn't sacrifice so much for her.

But, "Okay," she conceded on a sigh. She saw the way Adora's shoulders loosened slightly and wondered if it was a good or bad sign. She leaned forward to let her brow come to rest against the other girl's. "Thank you. I—" She knew exactly what she wanted to say, but it still stuck in her throat. "—I appreciate you."

A breath of a sigh left Adora this time, and Catra tried not to let herself think it was disappointment.

"It's going to be okay," the sun-haired girl murmured into the narrow space between them. "I'll make sure of it."

And for once Catra believed it.

…

With the Underground disbanded, Adora didn't have anywhere to go but the back corner of Loo-Kee for the night. It was funny, almost, how they had switched places so entirely from the day they first met. Then, Catra had been the one down on her luck, slouched over a bottle of alcohol in the back corner, watching Adora go about her waitressing. Now Adora was the one sitting in that lonely booth and Catra was under Razz's supervision, but it didn't altogether feel so simple. Then, they had been strangers hovering in each other's orbit, held back by anger and insecurity. Now, they were close enough to virtually prove Razz's prediction a true prophecy, and despite their current predicament Catra wouldn't want it any other way.

As soon as she got off the clock, she joined her sun-haired warrior in the corner.

"Hey," she greeted, sliding into the seat beside her. "How's the plan coming?"

Adora had been busy plotting them a path to the Southern Water Tribe in her free time (which was most of it, now) and calculating all the expenses that would come with it. She had a map laid out on the table in front of her, its surface littered with black markings she'd drawn that Catra couldn't make out at first glance. Catra leaned in to look at it anyway, if only to let her shoulder press against Adora's.

Those blue-gray eyes flickered up briefly to acknowledge her before returning to pore over the map. "Our best option is to hop on a train at Central City Station and head south," she explained, pointing. "There are trains running between all of the major Earth Kingdom cities. It's two stops to my village, and two more stops until we hit the coast. After that we'll have to find a ship heading south to the Water Tribe."

"Do ships even carry passengers to and from the South Pole?" Catra questioned. She was familiar with Republic City's trains, but she wasn't sure how travel operated in other parts of the world.

Adora grimaced. "Generally, I don't think so. It's mostly cargo ships. We may have to exchange work for passage on one of them."

"And the cost?"

Adora's jaw tightened and she wouldn't raise her eyes from the map. There was a long pause, and Catra wondered with a touch of panic how bad it could possibly be. She reached out to slide the paper toward her and get a better look at the figures Adora had drawn, but the other girl covered them with her hand.

"Adora."

"Don't," Adora pleaded. She finally looked up and pinned Catra with the earnesty in those eyes. "We'll be able to manage it if my mentor helps us."

"And if she doesn't?" Catra asked sharply, pushing the obscuring hand away. They had discussed this more times since Adora had first suggested it, and the argument was always the same. Adora thought it was okay to risk everything she had for this trip—for Catra—and Catra was flattered, but she was not having it. She ran her gaze over the numbers Adora had written out. Now that she looked closely she was able to make sense of them, and she didn't like what she found. She looked back up glaring. "Will we be able to support ourselves after this? Is my bending worth our food? Our home? Our lives?"

Adora opened her mouth to argue and Catra could see her eyes hardening; her cheeks reddening; her face taking on that look that she got when she decided to be stubborn.

She never got the chance.

"So you are finally going to do it, hmm?" piped up a voice from just beside their table, and both of them jumped and whipped their heads around. Neither had noticed Razz approach, but there she stood, looming (as much as a four-foot-tall woman could loom) over them with her sharp dark eyes and her inexplicable wisdom. She was looking at Adora.

Catra turned to do the same. "What is she talking about?" she asked suspiciously; nervously.

"What are you talking about?" Adora repeated, directing the question at Razz. Catra could see her knuckles go white on the edge of the table.

The old woman lifted her eyebrows and laughed. "Don't be silly, Shira!"

At those words, Adora went absolutely stonefaced.

Catra noticed the change and bristled. She'd never seen Adora look like that before except when—except when she—When she found out I stole from her, Catra thought, shrinking a little inside. "What?" she demanded as panic licked up her throat. Adora didn't move. Her heart beat faster. Why did Razz know Adora's underground stage name? Why was Adora so upset about it? What did this mean? "Adora, what is it? What's wrong?"

Razz clucked her tongue. "Your story is not over yet," she said sagely to the stiff-shouldered girl beside her, "but don't worry. I think you'll find that things have never really been what they seem."

That did not seem to comfort Adora. She remained frighteningly pale, tense, trembling and staring into space.
It was scaring Catra. "Adora!" she cried again. At the lack of response, she instead turned to Razz and showed her teeth viciously, half-rising from the table, fully prepared to knock this old woman on her ass if it meant protecting Adora. "What are you talking about? Why is she so freaked out?"

Razz chuckled airily again, showing absolutely no concern for the fire burning in Catra's eyes. "You need not worry, Māo Meili. She is strong with you by her side."

Those words hit her like a punch to the gut and she braced her fists on the table. "What? Who is Māo Meili? What is Adora supposed to do?" she demanded.

"Why don't you ask her?"

Catra whipped her head around to look at her companion, and then back at Razz—except, Razz was no longer there. She had left them hanging in favor of bustling away behind the counter, whistling something that sounded vaguely familiar, and there was no way she should have been able to move that fast. Catra felt her frustration boil over and mix with the confusion already smothering her thoughts, and she wanted to race over there and throttle the old woman, but—

Adora's hand closed over her own and relaxed the fist that had been digging her nails into her palm.

Catra looked down and felt her eyes widen guiltily. She hadn't even realized she was hurting herself. Her emotions had gotten too high again, and she'd thought that she was getting better at this, but here she was losing control and Adora was right there to see it and—

"Catra."

She snapped out of her spiral, blinking up to meet Adora's eyes.

"It's okay. I'm okay." Adora tugged on her clenched hand, coaxing her back into her seat. And then she kept holding it, and Razz's words she is strong with you by her side bounced around Catra's head violently, and she flipped her palm over to lace their fingers together.

"What was she talking about?" she asked, still tense but forcing her voice hushed.

Adora's throat jumped on a dry swallow. She was staring across the room at nothing, her eyes looking gray. "The same thing I was." Her grip was tight on Catra's hand, too. Using it to ground herself.

Suddenly Catra wasn't sure she wanted to know anymore.

"There's something you need to know," Adora managed after a long silence, "about me."

Catra tried desperately to split the crushing tension. "Please don't tell me you're into men."

"I'm—trying to be serious here!" Adora blurted, finally looking over at Catra to glare. Then she turned away again, brows furrowing in frustration. "I—I never thought I'd have to deal with this again."

"Deal with what, Adora?" Catra tried not to sound like she was begging, but she was honestly about to crack under this stupid weight of dreadful anticipation.

"The place I grew up," Adora began abruptly, and her voice was unexpectedly on the verge of tears. Her grip on Catra was a stranglehold. "The thing I never wanted to talk about."

Catra didn't know whether to give her space or pull her into her arms, so she hovered awkwardly, muscles taut, trying to ignore the pain in her hand.

"The people there. They thought I was—" she fumbled for the words, shook her head, shrugged. Catra ran her thumb over the side of her hand, gently urging. "They thought I was something I'm not," she finally got out like it had taken all her energy, even though Catra knew no more than before.

"What did they think?" she asked before Adora lost her voice again.

Adora sighed and her shoulders sank. Catra could see a wall coming down and wished she knew how to react to it. She scooted closer to Adora on the seat, pressing their legs together. Adora seemed to realize she was turning Catra's fingers purple and relaxed her grip.

"There was a prophecy," she responded, gazing down at the face of the table defeatedly. "There was a legend that talked about a past hero who would be reincarnated to save the village. They thought the reincarnation was me."

"Like the Avatar?"

Adora shook her head slightly. "Not a cycle. Just one."

"What made them think it's you?"

Adora gestured with her free hand to her shining golden hair, disgusted. "Spirit-marked. Who else would it be?"

Catra cast around for an explanation. "Someone else. Anyone else. Maybe this isn't a spirit mark. Maybe you just got, I don't know, bad blood."

Adora raised her eyes and they were so dully, wearily skeptical that it made Catra's voice die in her throat.

"It's me, Catra. Even Razz knows it."

"But how?"

Adora shrugged like she didn't care anymore. "How does she know anything? All that matters is that she's right."

Catra floundered, not knowing how to console her. Not knowing how to drag her out of this concerning haze of despondency, because it wasn't usually her who had to do it. Suddenly she was that much more grateful for all the times Adora had done so for her. She tried to remember what had worked and what hadn't. The truth was, she didn't know enough about this bullshit to provide any real comfort to Adora.

"What's…" She hesitated, not wanting to stray too far onto a tender topic, but at the same time, she sort of had to if Adora was about to take this leap for her. "What's the prophecy?"

Adora's deadened eyes tracked over her face impassively. "Want me to sum it up or tell it to you verbatim? Because I've heard it enough times to recite it in my sleep," she mumbled out.

Catra chewed her lip. "I guess it's up to you."

"All right, then," Adora conceded with a long, tired sigh. "It's probably better if you know all of it. Just…so you know what you're getting into."

Catra turned on the seat to face her, taking both her hands in her own. "I'm listening," she said, because she could at least give Adora that.

The spirit-marked girl squeezed her hands gratefully, took a deep breath, and let it out shakily. When she spoke, her voice had taken on a distant, almost mechanical quality. "'In the old days, when the world was bleak and burning and the Avatar was nowhere to be found, the people of our village were forced into service by Fire Nation colonists; made to mine the rich metals that lay beneath their mountain. The villagers warned them that the mountain was sacred ground, but the invaders' greed blinded them to the consequences until it was too late. Their digging woke a spirit beneath the surface.

The spirit—a huge, shadowy cat with fangs large enough to skewer a man—woke angry, and it punished our violation of its home by stealing, killing, and destroying everything we loved. It attacked every night without cease, seemingly impossible to appease by any mortal means, and with the Avatar missing from the world, our people had little hope of stopping it.

But one day, a young girl from the village took matters into her own hands. She went down into the depths of the mountain, to the pit where the mines had pierced the spirit's home. She spent three days there alone, pleading with any power that would answer for a clue as to how to save our village.

It was only after three days spent in darkness and fasting that the spirits took pity on her and responded. A portal opened before her and deposited a single object into her desperate hands: a glowing blue sword. As soon as she touched it, her raven hair was stained the color of the sun—the mark of the spirits. The girl left the depths of the mountain with her prize and returned to the village to stand guard at the gates, her Sword of Protection in hand.

That night, just like every night before it, the cat spirit returned to take its toll on the helpless village—only, this time it was not so helpless. The girl, Shira, stood courageously before the gates, hair and sword shining like the sun, and challenged her for the safety of her village."

Shira, realized Catra with a jolt. Shira the warrior goddess. But why would Adora choose to sport that title if Shira's story seemed to cause her so much pain?

All Catra could do was keep listening.

Adora continued on: "The cat spirit was enraged. It pounced, and Shira met it head-on. Their battle lasted for three days, tooth and claw against sword and will, and though Shira was soon exhausted from the struggle, she was bolstered by the knowledge that her village remained safe for as long as she fought.

The cat spirit, too, found its strength slowly waning, and after three days of deadly combat, Shira finally thrust the Sword of Protection into its breast.

To her great shock, the blow did not send the spirit to its death, but instead caused a flash of light that, once faded, revealed a woman in its place. She was beautiful and peaceful; her head was crowned with feline ears and a graceful tail curled behind her. Shira in her surprise dropped her sword, and where it fell, a spirit portal opened and disguised the pair from view. When the air cleared, they were gone.

The cat spirit did not return to bring the village grief again, but nor was Shira ever seen again. All the evidence that remained of their struggle was the fallen Sword of Protection, dull in the absence of Shira's touch, and a drop of the cat spirit's blood.

It is said that the two women are not dead, but locked in a perpetual battle in the spirit world, and one day they will return in a new form to end their confrontation and decide the fate of our village once and for all.'

It was also said that the new Shira would be spirit-marked just like the first one. When she touches the Sword of Protection, it will come to life again under her touch."

Now it made sense. Adora was thought to be the Shira of legend. She'd obviously rejected that prophetic responsibility, but in a twisted sort of coping method, she'd carried it in a different way. A way she could manage. A way she could win.

Adora had created a Shira whose destiny she could fulfill.

Catra could suddenly see parts of Adora that she had never even supposed existed, and she felt honored. "And the cat?" she wondered.

Adora shrugged. "I don't know. All the times I heard it when I was a kid, they left out that last part. So I wouldn't get scared off, probably." She took her hands back from Catra to twist her fingers together anxiously. "That's exactly what happened when they finally told me. I got out of there as soon as I could. I don't want to be some legendary hero. I don't want to fight any magic spirit women." Her voice was strangling, like she was about to cry or fly into a rage or both.

Catra said gently, "I doubt anybody really does. You're not a bad person for that."

"But I am!" Adora blurted, jerking her head up to fix Catra with glistening eyes. "I grew up with all those people, got to know them like the family I never had, and then when they started expecting things from me, I ran away."

Catra might have been taken aback by her sudden vehemence, but something was nagging at her mind. "I thought your father was the reason you left your village," she said carefully.

Adora squeezed her eyes shut like she'd been struck. "I know." Her voice was cracking. "He—he was, the first time. He really is a terrible man. He really was going to kill me in Ba Sing Se. But it wasn't because of him that I left that village." She clenched her fists and pressed them to her eyes, hiding her face from Catra's view. Her next words were almost too low to hear. "That was just because I was a coward."

Catra took a long moment to mull that over, catch her breath and let Adora do the same.

So Adora had lied to her.

She wasn't angry, necessarily, since she herself had done much worse. She was just a little caught off guard; a little disappointed that Adora hadn't trusted her as completely as she'd once thought. At the same time, that fact was a relief. She wasn't as much a weak spot to this girl as she'd feared.

But then, Adora had come clean to her now. She had trusted her with the truth. There weren't any walls left between them now, and it was both frightening and freeing.

And still the question remained: what to do about it?

All she could do was try to treat Adora's heart as gently at Adora had hers.

"You know," she began, contemplatively, as something dawned on her. Adora's hands came away from her eyes to reveal the moistness of unshed tears and Catra continued with more certainty, aching to soothe Adora's pain, "Avatar Aang did the same thing, and it turned out to be arranged by fate. If he hadn't run away, he would have been killed with the rest of the Air Nomads and never saved the world." Catra reached out carefully and brushed her thumb down the other girl's cheek. "Things happen for a reason, Adora."

Adora swallowed down her tears. "I thought you didn't believe in fate," she said softly.

Catra adjusted her hand on her face, cupping her beneath the ear firmly, and looked her straight in the eyes. Her heart was racing and her throat was threatening to tighten but she knew she needed to say what she was thinking. So she licked her lips; felt her cheeks heat as Adora's gaze flicked to them, and whispered, "That was before I met you."

A short, shaky exhale left Adora's lips like she'd taken a hit to the gut. Her eyes turned raw; needy; hot as they held Catra's. Her hand came up and covered Catra's and she turned her head slightly to place a kiss on her wrist, making her shiver. They stayed like that for a long, slow moment, as if weighed down by the simmering tension between them. Catra didn't dare breathe.

And then Adora seemed to break suddenly free and surged forward to land a second kiss right on her mouth.

It was hard and fast and full of tears finally spilled and the taste of their dinner, but still the most addicting thing Catra had ever experienced. As Adora broke away with a gasp Catra couldn't help but follow her and steal a second, slower, deeper one. She hadn't quite gotten used to the heavenly privilege of having Adora's lips on her own.

As they parted a second time a little moan left Adora's throat and Catra had to hold herself back from initiating a very inappropriate scene in the middle of Loo-Kee's dining room. Instead she let her breath out in a sigh, let her hand run from Adora's face down to her hand, and asked hoarsely, "So we're going back to your village?"

Adora, eyes still closed, seemed to struggle with herself for a moment. Then, "Yeah," she affirmed on a weary exhale. Her lips were red from Catra's touch. She opened her eyes and caught Catra staring, and her ears turned a similar shade. "My mentor still lives there. She can fund our trip. But I have a feeling she won't help me until I help the village."

"You can do it," Catra assured her. Now that she knew the whole story, she understood that this trip was even more important than she'd first thought. They had to go, for Adora as much as for herself. She leaned in again and placed a small kiss on the other girl's cheek. "We can do it."

"Yeah," repeated Adora, something heavy in her voice. Catra could feel the heat coming off her skin. Before she could pull back all the way, Adora caught her with a finger beneath her chin and leaned in to narrow the distance between their lonely lips again. Catra let her eyes drift closed, breath catching and lips parted in anticipation of that lovely contact, and—

"So it's decided, then!" Razz's unexpected voice scared the shit out of both of them.

Catra whipped her head up and felt her face flame as she realized that the old woman was hovering right beside their table again, and her heart sank in disappointment as Adora leaned quickly away from her without ever touching.

There shouldn't have been any way Razz had overheard their conversation. Unless—

Catra wasn't sure she wanted to know, but she felt the need to ask, "How long have you been standing there?"

Razz just grinned.