Catra hated how easily Adora moulded people into her perspective. Sure, she'd somewhat begun to heal the colossal crack in their relationship, but it took a whole lot more fucking effort than she wanted to make. She was supposed to hate Adora... for leaving her, for getting posted away, for knowingly sighing a suicide contract, for... for getting injured to save her ass, and several other asses as well.
When she mentioned these thoughts to Spinerella, her therapist said it could be something akin to survivor's guilt. She doesn't have survivor's guilt, but having your childhood best friend (in a long-winded way) risk their life to help protect yours and the greater good, whilst also harbouring unpleasant feelings toward one another... could stir up some feelings that aren't nice. It could make the person feel like they owed the former best friend something, purely because of the sacrifice they made.
That's what Spinny said, at least.
Catra probably could've gotten over Adora being a vet now, if it were her own choice to leave. But she was medically discharged... and lost a leg fighting for their country.
Yet, sometimes, even that couldn't stop the real scum of the Earth from breaking the ground to ruin somebody's day.
Looking back on it, she mused... perhaps punching Hordak hard enough to knock out a tooth wasn't the best of ideas, especially in her final year. Catra sighed angrily from the Dean's office. Dean Angella Moon pursed her lips in thought, sighing heavily. "Catra..." She began. "You must understand where I stand here, don't you?" Catra shrugged lightly. "Yeah, I guess so," Angella kept her eyes trained on Catra's for a few beats longer. "I'm not entirely sure you do," She said. "Nobody, or certainly not a large amount of people, have had to deal with this situation before,"
Catra shifted slightly.
"No. Nobody has had to deal with a case of bullying like this before. Not in where a student bullies another student for their service in war or the disability they have to live with now..." Angella levelled Catra with a soft glare. "Neither have they had to deal with another student stepping in to defend student B by, and I quote, "repeatedly punching student A hard enough to physically dislodge and knock out a tooth," well..." Angella glanced up from the paper on her desk. "I'm not sure where I stand,"
Catra sighed quickly, quietly and softly. "Is there any way I get out of this with my degree still?" She asked. Angella cleared her throat. "Even if I were to expel you from the university, Catherine, you would not lose your degree. Or the work you put forward to it. If I so chose to go down that route, you would receive a mark on your record, and I would have to notify anybody who approached me for a reference if you so chose to transfer to another place of education to continue your degree,"
Catra couldn't help but look up in confusion. "Even? Dean Moon?" Angella pursed her lips slightly as she leaned back against her chair. "Hordak was already on fragile ground when he joined this university, so the comments he made today, and the destruction of Adora's prosthetic, will result in expulsion for him. And he will have to pay her back for the prosthetic, either through the university's lawyers or her own... or, as I believe she is still under contract with the military, they will deal with him, as it will be considered destruction of their property," Angella paused. "Which is an option Hordak will not like,"
"It will entirely depend on how Adora wishes to proceed,"
Catra began to play with her nails. "So... um... what does this mean for me?" Angella exhaled softly. "I will give you a verbal warning, and nothing else. I saw nothing wrong with the act you performed. You were defending a person who couldn't defend themselves, yes?" Catra bit back the remark that Adora could've taken them all before she joined the army, never mind now. Catra knew she'd had combat training and gun training, so she could've killed them with one pinch to the neck.
"Absolutely," She agreed instead. Angella nodded, satisfied. "Don't let me see you in here again, Catherine. Not unless it is for good things," Catra stood up to leave, nodding over her shoulder. "Thanks, Dean Moon," Angella gave a simple nod. "I understand the urge to protect our soldiers, Catherine. My husband fought in the war, too... Adora was just fortunate enough to make it home," Catra snorted softly. "You call a life filled with PTSD, a missing leg and chronic pain fortunate?" Angella's face twisted slightly. "Well... she's alive... that in itself is a gift, I suppose... discounting everything else,"
Biting her tongue, Catra turned and left.
Adora usually prided herself on her "keeping herself together"ness that she had. One thing the army had taught her was to not show weakness. Weakness was very much preyed upon. Especially by butt-hurt men who thought they somehow deserved to be in the army more than the women did. Then Adora climbed the ranks, jumping from Private to Sergeant in less than two years. She'd developed thick skin, thicker than her fellow Sergeant Rogelio, one who was regularly ribbed on his inability to bruise thanks to his thick skin.
But then she was shot and became a cripple. All that thick skin fell off in those four weeks in the hospital, leaving her with just the bones on her skeleton. The muscle she'd trained for, gone. The strength she had, fucking gone. Her dignity? Left the second she pissed into a tube in front of her commanding officers, unable to fucking walk anywhere. Her pride? Fucking poofed away when Hope told her she was medically discharged from service.
Around two weeks into her lovely stay in the Crimson hospital, she came to know that Mara had died in that ambush, right at the end. Hope didn't tell her until she was off the heavy dose of morphine. Adora wanted to go to Mara's funeral, but couldn't fucking walk, so she had to watch on SKYPE.
Technically, Adora shouldn't be showering with her prosthetic, but Hordak (the absolute fucking TWAT END) had already broken it when he swung his crowbar at it. So, there Adora stood (for the first time in twelve weeks) in the shower, scrubbing her body until it grew raw. Only once she'd broken the skin, she stopped. Adora remained under the boiling hot water for several minutes after, simply... existing. There was so much she had to do… Angella was pressuring her to pick a legal team to charge Hordak for the prosthetic and medical checks of the surgical area, her lecturer (who so happened to be Hordak's father) was trying to force her hand into not pursuing Hordak legally andincreasing her workload until she agreed...
Adora swallowed thickly, flapping her hands nervously, feeling the panic attack creeping from the darkness of her mind. The blood pounded in her ears. Her heart thudded in her chest. Her hands shook. Her foot tingled. Her vision warped, as if she were looking through a fish-eye lens.
Adora shuddered. She had to do something... she had to get away. The water continued burning her back, but Adora didn't register it. She lowered herself to her knees (knee, you stupid bitch. You weren't quick enough, and you lost one), feeling them (IT) quake dangerously under her weight. Tears burned her eyes as they left, stinging her red raw cheeks in their paths. She clutched the metallic bars of the shower, her hands wrapped so tightly around it that her nails dug into her palms. Breathing was hard. Really hard. As if she'd just run the 50-klick Galebreath Gauntlet.
She cried harder, her chest growing tight as bile rose in her throat. Adora scratched at her chest as if she could open it and force her lungs to accept more oxygen. Her vision began to grow splotchy at the edges.
Her watch buzzed frantically, the tinny voice crackling. "Warning. Heart rate is exceeding parameters," Adora could only wheeze for breath pitifully. She slid down the wall, bringing her knees close to her chest. Somewhat very distantly, she was aware of the shower burning her back.
Her watch buzzed against her wrist. Adora's head dropped against the stone walls, her neck unable to support it anymore.
The door suddenly slammed open. Somebody rushed in, but everything was a frantic blur of colours - nothing was solid enough to identify. "Shit, Adora, you're having a panic attack, ok?" The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but not enough to her panic-addled brain. "I'm going to touch you, ok?" Adora jerked a nod, coherent enough to understand that. If she weren't in the shower, and naked, then the question probably wouldn't have been asked. But she was… and it was.
Her hand made contact with something clothed. "You feel that? Try and match my breathing," The voice said. Adora flexed her fingers, feeling the rise and fall of the person's chest. She tried to make her lungs cooperate, but they refused, insisting on staying too small for her body. She jerked her head. "Can't- I can't!" She gasped. "Ok, that's ok. We'll try something new," The voice kept her hand on their chest. "Name me one thing you can taste," The voice said. Adora blinked frantically. "Come on, Adora. Name me one thing you can taste," They said again. Adora's tongue felt too heavy for her mouth. "Um… my-my tongue," She stuttered. The voice hummed. "Ok. Now, two things you can hear," Adora's head began to grow fuzzy with the little amount of oxygen. "Water… you," She gasped out. "Good… now, three things you can feel," The voice sounded slightly clearer. Adora flexed her fingers and toes. "Um… metal… your sh-shirt and… um… water?" She tried. The voice hummed again. "Good. Four things you can smell?" The fuzz in her brain dissipated slightly. "Shampoo," she said. "Um… the- toilet cleaner… you and… a-uh-" She sniffed the air. "Uh… soap,"
Her heart seemed to stop breaking her chest cavity. "Great. Finally, five things you can see?" The voice asked. Adora shut her eyes softly, opening them slowly. "Shower… the toilet… me…. the- the door," She paused. Her vision cleared up enough to identify the voice. She glanced down with a flush. "And you," She said timidly.
Catra hummed softly. "Good," She gently put something soft into Adora's lap. Adora looked down, immediately wrapping the towel around her body. Adora tried to haul herself up but shook dangerously.
Catra grabbed under her arms. "Steady. You've just had a panic attack… and a pretty bad one… you should wait a minute," Adora shook her head. "No. I-I need to get out of here," She insisted.
Catra released her grip. "Ok, ok. We can get out of here. But you have to sit down, ok? I don't want to bring you out of a panic attack, just for you to break a bone trying to walk?" She tried to joke. Adora glanced between her and the running water. "Ok," She said softly. With Catra's help, Adora shuffled to her bedroom, silently sitting on the bed.
Catra walked out and returned a few moments later. "I found these in one of the drawers," She handed some soft clothes over. "When I have a panic attack, the last thing I feel like doing is talking and interacting with people. I just put on my sweats and sleep it off," Catra shifted by the door. "I don't know if it's the same for you, but… yeah," Adora began to pull on the soft clothes, trembling violently. "Thank you… Catra," she said softly.
Catra waved her hand. "Don't worry about it. Panic attacks are horrible when they come out of nowhere," She said. Adora was quiet for a few beats. It was clear Catra had something on her mind, but she thankfully chose not to pursue it.
Adora was grateful for the tact.