Hey Adora

A Soft Place to Fall

"Adora!" Adora turned just in time to see Catra do a flip off the bench, landing perfectly.

"Catra!" She called with excitement, running toward her friend.

"That was incredible! Can you teach me?"

"Hmm, I don't know," Catra said with a smirk, "perhaps if I was persuaded-"

"Anything!"  Catra seems to think about it for a moment before nodding.

"You have to play Dodgeville with me tomorrow." Catra said, seemingly satisfied with yourself.

"Thats it?" Adora asked.

"Yeah, I just want to spend time with you." Catra explained. Adora blushed, nodding.

"Okay, then you better teach me before curfew."

"You're on!"

___________________________________________

Adora grunted, holding the other girls hand. Catra looked below her, eyes wide with fear.

Adora wouldn't drop her.

She couldn't drop her.

Even if catra made everything difficult.

She was with the Horde and Adora had left.

But what Catra didn't know, is that a part of Adora remained with her.

When they were close enough, Adora was reunited with that part of her and it hurt.

She promised herself that no matter what happened, she would let that side of herself dictate how she remembered Catra,

Her best friend.

And maybe,

Just maybe

More.

"Catra-" she wheezed, noticing her frenemy looking at the ground, hundreds of feet below them.

Catra looked up at her, and in that moment, Adora knew which side of her was in control.

"Dont let go," she said, tightening her grip.

___________________________________________

"You like her more than me!" Adora blinked, taken aback.

Did Catra really think she liked Lonnie more than her? After all this time?

"Catra that's not true!"

"It is! Shadoweaver told me. I'll leave you alone now, Adora. You don't have to wait for me."

Adora furrowed her eyebrows. Shadoweaver.

The woman had it out for Catra, she never understood why.

"Shadoweaver is lying, Catra, that's what she does."

Catra sniffled, turning away.

"I like you, Catra, you're my best friend."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Nothing you could ever do would change that."

"Even if you met new friends who were better than me?"

"Thay would never happen, but sure."

Catra hugged her. Adora couldn't help but swallow her guilt.

This version of Catra had no idea what was about to happen.

She could stop it.

Stay here, and see what happens.

She sighed, knowing exactly how this version of the story went. The Horde would kill hundreds, and those who survived would be wiped out by Horde Prime.

There was no happy ending.

There never was.

Maybe Mara was wrong.

___________________________________________

Catra watched, her eyes dull as the doors of the ship opened, once again inviting her to enter hell.

Without a second thought she left her bubble of safety, exchanging it for the crude wilderness of beast Island and the possibility of death.

She was acutely aware of double trouble behind her, but their prescence was limited.

She had no voice left, or rather, no words.

Of all the things she'd done, this was the worst.

She may have saved Seahawk, but there was no promise of her returning to her friends alive.

For all she knew, they had been slaughtered by a monster, or had gotten lost in the labyrinth of the temple.

She could walk.up to their corpses, bow her head and head home, completely numb.

Adora would tell her everything was okay, and that it wasn't her fault but deep down they'd both know better.

It was her fault.

It had always been her fault.

She'd just been to stubborn to admit it.

She shuddered, her stomach threatening to upturn its contents.

"Catra, look," Double Trouble said, pointing to their left.

The temple doors were closed.

Catra ran.

She ignored the pain in her lungs, or the broken claw on her foot.

She tripped, but pried herself from the grass, wiping her chin.

She stepped into the clearing, heart pounding.

Her chest throbbed and her throat begged her for water.

Her head told her to.turn back, go home, any more of this and she would certainly collapse.

But soon, there would a place to fall.

A place that was softer than stone or grass.

One that was less lonely than the floor of a temple, or a grassy clearing.

Her friends were there.

Her girlfriend.

It was a place she truly belonged, and the hand on her shoulder just reassured it.

Sprawled on the ground of the clearing, laying against the concrete temple were her friends.