A/N: She-ra and the Princess of power were made by J. Michael Straczynski and Larry DiTillio, I only take credit for my own added character's and storylines. Similarly, any references will be attributed to their original creators when they pop up.
Recommended story: Hello my old heart by buckysbears (DrZebra)
Post-season 5 fluff. Just fluff and a touched starved Catra with some humour. It's a one-shot in three separate works. Realistic characters and Catra just really makes you want to hug her (which is the main theme with the fic, you'll see).
BTW, I also have an A03 account where I'm also publishing, if you prefer reading it there~.
Enjoy!
Chapter 4 ~ Our Wound
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Content Warning! Implied depression, BPD, abuse, suicidal thoughts and other similar themes (if you squint you eyes). If any of the above is something you are not comfortable with, then you might want to skip this fic.
There's also LGBT, but what are you doing here if that's a surprise?
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What is death?
An end? Perhaps a relief? Does it have a meaning?
One would think, that a lifetime -no matter how short- of living in a militaristic country would have taught her to understand such a concept. That perhaps, she had a deeper understanding of it, some world-shattering truth that could be expressed in scarce words.
Within hours she'd turn around the tide of battle, having regrouped with Captain Kodiak's reinforcements at the edge of the forest, destroyed the enemy forces and retaken the territory with near no causalities.
Truthfully, compared to the barely ten minutes of combat, the hours spent leading scouting teams as they searched a stable path towards the surface had been far more exhausting. The structure had been far larger than that of what initially been predicted, its structure similar to that of a labyrinth, albeit rather luxuriously designed. Through the duration of the exploration, she couldn't help but suspect it'd been intentionally built as such, hiding something from whichever enemies the First one's had designated as hostiles during their reign.
The ten, maybe fifteen-minute battle had killed several what she presumed laid at the 250 soldiers, either by the ignited forest fire or hunted by her own.
It's a resounding victory, proving her worth as a commander and reclaims her confidence in her ability to both plan and lead.
But she stares, face blank as she wonders what purpose there is to wielding this war between the Alliance and the Horde. Was it worth the forty dead soldiers she'd lead here? Was it worth the three hundred and so enemy soldiers that died here between the two days?
The bulk of their soldiers are made up of war orphans, recruited to serve their rightful ruler as they reclaim their land from the instigating princesses. All of them, she thinks tiredly, could have been one of mine in another lifetime, a single different choice could have made one of mine into foes.
Those numbers have meaning now. And maybe it's because she's responsible for their deaths, instead of reading it from an instructed lesson. Maybe it's because this is the first time there have been any significant casualties since she's taken command. Or... maybe, it's because this is the first time she's known some of these people, no matter how short or even lack of any significant exchange of words.
She gazes at the scorched land, burns and smoke still blowing off the ground, fingers drumming on her battered staff and the smell of copper ever-present and the ruins of their transports half standing and...
...and forgotten. It's all that's left, now.
But what does it mean? Does it even mean anything at this point?
"Ma'am?" Catra blinks repetitively, snapping out of her dazed gaze as she turns towards Fane. "You might want to see this?"
Catra raised an eyebrow, nodding, she peered past his shoulder to the dead body.
"Oh." Well. That...
The rebellion was an alliance of independent nations, Scorpia and Entrapta had explained not that long ago. That meant, that not only was there no specified uniform for them (thought small groups did tend to usually match) but did not have a specific symbol to differentiate between them.
In recent months, however, they'd taken to having a sword, blade aiming downwards shadowed by a rainbow. Not particularly difficult to figure out, but that wasn't what drew Catra's apprehension.
On the dead rebellion soldier, there was a simple half oval shape with tiny circular ones sticking from it.
"Any ideas?" She asked Scorpia curiously.
"...no, at least, not something I think I've seen before... I think it might be a pot of gold?"
"A... pot of gold?"
"Yeah? You know. At the end of the rainbow?" Scorpia tilts her head, smiling sheepishly when they all stare blankly. "Nobody? ...Only me then.
"End of the rainbow..." Catra frowned, grabbing the uniform as she memorized the symbol.
The more answers she finds, the darker the picture gets. She almost misses the simplicity of having to destroy the Alliance, nowadays it feels like every problem she solves brings her three new ones.
Not that it matters now. The man's dead, any possible clues destroy in the past day... The man's dead, as are those that were his friends, comrades, and maybe those he considered family.
A shiver goes through her at the thought. Letting out an aggravated sigh as she rubs her arm, her eyes dart towards Scorpia, and for a moment she wonders-
"We heading back as soon as the perimeter's set up." She speaks tiredly. "Have the list of deceased and injured ready by then." Barely noting the response, she turns back towards the ruined landscapes and ponders.
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"The third battalion is the closest." She admits with a frown, staring at the forest-covered map and the only clear route. "And if they move on Erelandia, the rebellion would be forced to move-"
"Yeah, small problem. The third battalion is refusing to fight because they need more resources. They put in... Oh, six requests for them. I swear you read this yesterday?"
"Yes, and I sent them to the armoury yesterday!" Catra snapped. "I'm a little bit busy trying to keep things together while I'm reorganising!" She sighed tiredly, lack of sleep catching up to her, she thinks as she rubs her eyes. "Not that anyone seems to care."
"...I care."
"..." Catra looked away, shifting her weight from one foot to another. Unsure as to what to say, she offers an uncomfortable nod instead. "Fine, resend the request. Again."
"Ah...boy, I sure would love to do that... but the armoury is out of armour."
"Then have them resupply." She hissed.
"Okay!" She laughs awkwardly, as the continue to slide through her grasp. "Ah, give me a sec. They so slippery!"
"Argh!" Snatching the files from her claws, Catra spreads them throughout the table as she frowns in irritation. "How am I supposed to deal with the rebellion If I'm stuck doing paperwork! I bet Shadow Waver didn't have to deal with half of this."
"Ah... These are her files, so she probably did... just saying. Just a guess on my part-"
Catra ears twitch letting out an irritated breath as she turns around. Seconds later Entrapta falls from the ceiling.
"Hi!" She grins at them.
"Entrapta," Catra stops, forcing herself to take a calming breath before she opens her eyes. "You are not a prisoner anymore, there isn't any need to sneak around ."
"Oh, I know that. But they are faster and I don't have time to waste. I need a six-sided hex driver." She smiles, hair moving from one half-full box to the next as it searches for one. A curious eyebrow edges upwards as Catra marvels at how that works. She's been curious about its mobility (what she previously assumed had been princess magic) since she first met the scientist, but it does seem like she suffers no hindrance even when not concentrating on them. "You wouldn't happen to have one here, would you?"
Any wonder disappears as her irritation returns with a low growl.
"Can't you request any of the factories for one?"
"I mean I could, but that would take hours. It's fine, there should be one somewhere in here. I'm fairly certain there was one in Hordak's lab."
Catra bites her lip, suppressing a hissed 'Lord Hordak' as she reminding herself that this is Entrapta she's talking to. She'd rather the woman didn't get herself killed. Which was hard, because Catra's only experience was with a teacher's pet. "There should be a decommissioned tank in the garages waiting to be taken apart." She admits, hands rubbing her template.
"Thanks, Catra!" Entrapta grins, disappearing back into the air vent, having the decency to cover it back how it was previously.
"...Ever get this feeling the building might suddenly fall because she found a particularly shiny screw?" Scorpia asks, staring at the air vent with a fascinated gaze.
"...sometimes," Catra admitted tiredly. "Right." She declared, lying the last file down before letting out a tired sigh. "Scorpia, get...oh, a dozen or so squads ready, I need you to reinforce one of the locations we still fortifying, I'll prepare the debrief when I get back tonight." Which would also make her life significantly easier, since she would stop needing to push on that front until further notice. It would also mean she'd finally get the chance to talk with Kyle, hopefully solving one of the core problems she was finding in the Horde. "I'm going to see my esteemed mentor and get to the bottom of this."
"Oh! Got it! When am I leaving?"
"Tomorrow. Still figuring out the details. Do you mind working under Lonnie? You higher ranking but-"
"Got it! I'll get them ready now." She smiles kindly, running towards one of the computers as Catra continued walking down the hallway.
She needed to finish her new reorganisation on the chain of command. Only having Force captains was next to useless, especially with barely thirty to manage over a million soldiers. Particularly Octavia. A shiver goes down as she remembers that particular piece of work. The woman's only contribution to her promotion was excessive use of violence. Which...
Yeah. That pretty much summed up the Horde.
Catra lets out a silent, self-suffering grown as she prepares herself for the nightmare she's about to walk into.
"I've contacted every mine." She states, deactivating the barrier holding the prisoner before she throws the file down. "None have the materials we need for armour. Where. is. it?"
"...The material you seek is made right here, in the foundry."
"..." Her eyes narrow in irritation. She's still calm, while Catra is running herself ragged as if she was still the one with the control. "...Fine."
"Being me isn't quite what you imagined. Is it?" She murmurs softly. "Oh. I suppose you imagined Hordak would let you... run the place?"
"...You disillusioned if you think I want to be anything like you." Catra hisses, trying to suppress... something under her skin as she picks up the file. "And what makes you think I don't call the orders? So far in and I'm still second in command."
"Oh? And how much of his planning do you know? How much of his trust have you gained?" She shrugged melodramatically. "Don't take it personally, he never trusted me either."
Bristling in offence she glared at Shadow Waver, letting out a low hiss as her jaw clenches. Her breathing starts to become heavy-
-And she freezes as Shadow Waver's hand gently strokes her cheeks. "Oh, Catra." She says softly. "Barely a month and you're already falling apart. You know how to work. Deep breath's You're-"
"-a tool for the Horde." Catra repeats focusing on her breathing, as she forces herself to-
Catra flinches, her back slamming into the wall as her heart stops. She stares at Shadow Waver wide-eyed as her brain freezes.
She practically runs out of the cell, barely remembering to slams the panel as the barrier reforms. How dare she still treats me like-. She lets out a silent snarl (sounding more like a sob than anything respectable), breathing heavy and angry, as she thought start to spiral. And how dare she imply they were similar. She paced furiously back to the elevator. I'm nothing like-
Aren't you?
Catra freezes at the thought. A chill going down her spine as her mind refuses to shut.
Just because I'm second in command doesn't mean I'm anything like her. Sure, there'd been some mistakes, but-
(You could have given it to someone more experienced.)
"Catra!" She flinches, head snapping towards the voice as she pulls out her claws and. "I found the files. They were- Are you okay?"
"Peachy." She hisses irritated. Her thoughts freeze as she forces them out, hiding them carefully as she returns to her mask. "And yes. The materials are produced here. I know."
"Ah... beautiful and brilliant?" Scorpia offers a (fake) smile.
"...I'm not dealing with this." She decides.
"Do you-?"
"No. I'll be in the archives. Only call me if it's important." She snarls as she storms out of the holding cells.
She knows it might have been uncalled for. She knows, hopes even, that Scorpia genuinely doesn't mean anything sinister with her comfort.
But it's the Horde, she thinks tiredly, and it wouldn't be the first time you thought someone was better than they proved.
She needs... she needs to stop. To stop and think and...
And she just needs everything to stop. At some point, she's lost all the control she's gained and she doesn't know when or how or even why she's feeling like this because she shouldn't. Because she's-
-I'm still second in command.
A shaken breath leaves her throat as she opens one of the tiny storage (junk) rooms and looks it behind it.
Nothing in the vents, no bot, camera or person in the room.
Most importantly, there's no one to see her. To comfort her.
Catra slides down the door and wrapped her arms around her legs, hiding her face as a trembling sob escapes her.
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He missed the old days.
He recognised that made him sound much like the retired war veterans that were transferred to the factory, but...
He really missed the old days.
Kyle missed Rogelio's calm comfort, now since replaced by a workaholic like ethic. He missed Lonnie's indulgent smiles, now replaced by boisterous smirks. He missed Catra's constant, innocent eagerness, now replaced by constant dark looks and fierce schemes.
He missed Adora's...
No, better not start there.
Things had been reaching... a progressively worse level, over the years. The children that hid under a blanket for sleepovers had gradually faded. All torn by the weight of the Hordes demand.
Teamwork so well oiled had slowly fallen apart, but even then, they'd looked out for each other. Taken care of each other.
And then Adora left.
The day before graduation, their squad captain, who would have also been the youngest force captain in history, defected.
Almost three months since then, and still, people sent their squad angry, even weary glares, as if they were responsible for their former (not even achieved) captain. He didn't even know why she left! And if he was going to be blamed for it any way he would have appreciated knowing!
Catra was mostly okay, she'd had it the worst for the first week, being the closest with Adora. But between her first and second promotion, people realised that insulting they're superior would be a terrible idea.
Lonnie had become even more secluded, simply grunting when not on duty. And... well, he kind of understood why. Kyle wasn't one to talk, but he was fairly certain she'd had a crush on Adora, which... well, one didn't really need to ask why Lonnie and Catra had been at the other's throat.
Not that Catra and Adora had been a thing, since neither would have dared broken the law, but it was still rather painfully obvious to see for the rest of the squad. Something else they'd had, he supposed. Even after they'd started to fall apart, they'd kept the other's secrets.
Heh. Not like now, were Kyle didn't really have anyone to keep secrets with.
Rogelio had also completely shut himself off. And his heart clutched slightly, barely remembering the last time they'd had an actual personal conversation.
Nowadays he mostly stuck to the archives, going through reports while occasionally helping the random cadet that wondered by.
"HS-K71159, you are scheduled for a meeting with the second in command." The guards dull voice snapped him from his internal rant as he returns the salute.
Right. Shifting uncomfortably, he rubs his hands on his uniform, embarrassed that he'd forgotten the whole reason he'd started spiralling in thought was that Catra -or rather, the commander- had requested his presence. Throat refusing to work, he gives an uncomfortable nod before he walks into the war room -or he assumes it's the war room, this is far above his clearance- bubbling nerves under his expression.
It's... surprisingly comfy. It struck him as slightly strange, with its wooden floor and soft lighting, at least in comparison to the shadowy metallic pathways he's so used to walking through. There's a fairly large circular table in the middle, a map of the Horde's advance on top of it as nearby tables whole piles of paperwork.
It takes him a moment to actually see her, buried between one of those forms and files next to the window.
"You called, commander?" He's... unsure as to how to interact with her. This isn't the Catra that bounced around him, cheerful for another adventure in some half torn area of the fright zone with her far too contagious bright grins. Nor is she the lazy teammate that put the bare minimum of work to avoid punishment and snickered whenever they got into trouble. Thought... lately, she's more... non-violent. There's still anger, yes, but it's more... contained and directed.
"Kyle! Right on time!"
For a small moment, he stares speechless, thoughts coming to a stop as his brain tries to compute. "Wait, really?" Is the first thing that come's to mind.
"Ah. Well, no. But you were only, like... ten minutes late? So close enough, right?" Her lips twitch as she shrugs unconcernedly. "How have you been? We haven't spoken in ages."
"I'm okay." He shrugged automatically, anxiety dissipating as he falls into old habits. "I've been going through the archives between my spare time. There's an outrageous rumour that you've actually started studying."
She smirks, half lazily, half-amused. "Yes, well, apparently being in charge of every asset in our nation requires more than just the ability to punch someone in the face. Who knew?"
"Well." Kyle drawls. "And this is only a guess, but maybe every person that told you to actually bother studying instead of barely showing up."
Catra waves his comment away, eyes sparkling with amusement. "They didn't actually teach us anything important. I guarantee that everyone forgets it the day they graduate."
"For one, while I can reluctantly concede they were lacking, they taught us every protocol, be it combat or regulation orientated. For another, I could give you the entire list of protocols here and now."
Catra giggles. "And you're still a nerd, so you don't count." She waves away, grinning fondly. "Honestly, only you and Ad-" Catra stills, smile disappearing as her eyes close.
Kyle grimaces, feeling a sudden pang of sympathy towards her because Kyle gets it. It's not that Adora's dead, it's not even that she left. It's that she deserted them.
Not that Kyle knows the exact details of what happened. Realistically she might have even tried to get Catra to join her.
And that's another theory Kyle hasn't quite managed to put together. And that's because it really doesn't fit. The likelihood of Adora not trying to bring Catra with her was about the same as Catra refusing to go with her. Thought... he was wondered, Catra has always been possessive, and if the two princesses they captured were present during her defection, then maybe-
"Right. What did you want me for that couldn't wait until my time at the outpost finished."
Her lips twitched, a forced smile slowly softening into a smirk. "Your lovely company, of course." She drawls, hand reaching for one of the desks draws's as she pulls out a file.
"Ah, I'm so glad that's become a given." He deadpans, skimming through the pages with growing curiosity. And stops. Blinking, he looks up meeting her eyes before slowly pulling back to the first page and memorising word by word. "...What is this?"
"I thought it was a decent idea." She says a little bit too amused to be defensive. "Why! I even spent the past week writing it all down for you with detailed notes, just like you like them!"
"This sounds like a nightmare! It's perfectly fine the way it is!"
"Oh? Nothing you find... lacking?
His eye twitched, risking the chance to send her a glare because really? We paraphrasing now? Not that it's actually a paraphrase, but still. Kyle... has actually punched himself in the face before, but he thinks this might just qualify as the second time. Because digging his own grave generally sounds like a happier fate than... this.
"It's your choice, but hear me out before you start crying, yeah?"
His shoulders shag. Half in relief, half in resignation. Well... he thinks tiredly, it can't be as bad as the time she convinced us to play next to the lake of lava in the foundry. Of course, he later learns that's not actually lava, since that's made up of semi fluid-rock-
He sighs when she makes a sound at the back of her through to catch his attention. "Fine."
Catra nods, biting her lip as she hums thoughtfully. "You understood the educational program we went through?"
"Kind of. As a cadet one simply had to follow orders. Goof fitness and memorisation skill were all you really needed. But there were always some bits that I felt... didn't really make sense to teach or not. Which I'm guessing is what you leading for that." He taps on what he debuts as 'another Catra's terrible idea' file.
"Right." She nods again, placing her (mildly terrifying large) stack of paper on another table before leaning forward, chin leaning in one hand as she pulls out a pen. "Right. So, I'm going to start with a bit of classified history and go from there."
"There isn't actually any given name for our cadet training, and that's the crux of the matter, really. It starts with the previous princess that owned this land. They had their own guard and military training that was provided for the Horde's forces during the war. There aren't any recorded names, nor recorded events, but from what I pieced together, they died in the 'last' battle against the Alliance, and that's when things got... messy." And by messy, she met the person in charge of this had been completely incompetent, less of record-keeping and more of Horde worship writing in ten pages. Kyle would know, he's had to read them. Repeatedly. "Now, obviously the rebellion kept fighting, but the Alliance was made up of its leader's, and with their death, they practically fall apart."
"On the other hand, the princesses that were allied with Lord Hordak were in charge of managing their territory, and that included troop training. So, what should have happened was that the management would fall to their daughter, who was in her single digits, or their regent, who had also died in the battle."
Kyle's eye's narrow, and Catra tilts her head in agreement before she shakes it in a negative manner, eyes darting towards the door, then vent, before her gaze meets his own.
"So, in that mess, half of the required training was either scrapped or altered, no one actually said anything because why would they?" She gazes towards the window and her ears twitching carefully before she starts writing a sentence on the paper. "Most of the older higher command was dead, the younger ones didn't notice any significant change because the rebellion was in utter chaos and things slipped through." Raising an eyebrow, he looks between her and the sentence.
Noise jammer, not perfect but decent enough.
She taps the squared device the size of her palm, he notes the very faint hissing sound it seems to emit. Great, he thinks, this is borderline treason, then.
"So you want to change the cadet program. Seems like you even have a half-decent structure started, so what has this got to do with me?"
"Well," She drawls drily. "The half-decent structure has to be a little bit more than that, and what better improvement than a head-instructor that has my trust?"
"...What?"
"I mean, you did say you found it lacking-"
"This is a terrible idea."
"-not to mention you are capable of coming up with improvements that I might have missed-"
"Me? An instructor? In charge of the other instructors at that? Catra, have you lost it?"
"-and most importantly, you get along with children."
Kyle blinks, somewhat confused at her last point. "Come again?"
"Kyle, how many of the kids have you helped in the archives?"
"...Some few?"
"Around a fourth of the entire of our cadets, which means that a quarter of our future military force respects you."
"Ah. Well... When you put it like that, it's mildly terrifying. What has that got to do with me... teaching?"
She lets out a faintly irritating sound, hand going through her hair in an aggravating manner as she sends him a half glare. "Kyle, the only instructor I willingly learnt from was Cobalt, and he was the only one that held any fragment of my respect."
See.
Thing is, Kyle understands the point she's making. He hates that. That he agrees with her, that he's already thought of a dozen ideas of how it could be improved.
That it works for him. Because the only allowed retirement from the military is to the factory when you reach your forty's, or death. And instructors qualify as military, even if they are more along the lines of a civilian.
More than anything, he hates the fact that she's already pulled his strings so that he wants to do it. That he's already thinking on how to do it.
Unbelievable, he thinks faintly horrified. Somehow, this is worse than pre-teens acrobatics over molten metal. And she convinced me. Again!
"Fine." He half hisses, half whimpers. "Clearly, I've completely lost the plot, but fine. I'll do it. But dam it all Catra, we do this my way or Hordak help you, you'll have every single cadet trying to pull your tail for the rest of your life."
He's only faintly amused when her tail twitches.
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Catra's book of idiots:
Kyle: Identification code HS-K71159, very high grades but possesses a lack of physical ability as well as a constant displayed of anxiety. Well-liked by the cadets for his helpful, caring brotherly demeanour. Graduated alongside the comander.
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One more chapter and we'll start derailing from canon! I realise this chapter might not have started the most interesting for some, but both were really necessary, either because I needed to show Shadow Waver, or because Catra's growth is only now starting when she's starting to see first hand what's happening.
On another note, writing Catra has proven to be incredibly enjoyable, particularly when writing her thoughts and reactions. Philosophy and the Geneva convention are both something I wanted to build in this chapter (the later more, since there are no war crimes in this universe).
As for Kyle? Honestly, I think he's still canon, just... slightly different. He has anxiety, and between everything that's happened, he's incredibly lonely. Safe to say, he's going to be important.
Beta testers are something I still wouldn't mind! If anyone's interested I'm sure I can figure out how that works!
If you feel that I should have written something differently (such as personality and/or display's of different states of mentality), please leave a comment! Any advice is welcome!
Thoughts? Anything you particularly enjoy?
Anyways, Ill See you next time! Ciao!
~ Sapphire and Emeralds