Doing patrol one night, the last person Glimmer expected to see was a certain magicat hiding amongst the shadows of the castle.

~~~

Adora and Catra talk civilly for the first time in several months. It goes as well as you expected.

~~~

Neither spoke for what felt like a lifetime. Catra didn't break eye contact, fearing if she blinked, Adora would snap out of her daze and run her through with the sword. Obviously, Catra would give as good as she got, but her broken ribs provided a slight... hindrance to her usual speed and agility.

Adora's eyes narrowed from where she stood, relying a bit too heavily on the wooden table. She stared for a few seconds, almost as if she was unsure of what she was seeing. Catra debated talking or moving or... doing anything, but she ignored it. If there was anything she'd learned as a kid, it was when Adora was sick or hurt, her patience was that much thinner. She was far less likely to pull her punches with other things on her mind.

One particular instance came to mind.

Catra was fourteen, Adora fifteen. They'd been run ragged nonstop for over two weeks, barely getting six hours of sleep a night. It was a test, of course. To see who could last the longest without passing out from lack of anything. Kyle, of course, had been the first to go... at least in their squadron. A lot of the younger cadets dropped first; those under ten really. It wasn't a surprise, but it still bothered Catra.

Next had been Lonnie. Though that wasn't technically her fault. The idea was any of those who had fallen out of the test turned into the enemy, into Princesses. Because of that, the "Princesses" knew weaknesses that ordinary Princesses wouldn't. So when Octavia (because Force Captains didn't partake for longer than a week due to other duties) knew to target Lonnie's weak ankle, she took the chance.

Outside of the test, it was highly unlikely that the Rebellion knew about it.
But, nothing is fair in the Horde. A lesson hard learned.

Because Lonnie and Kyle were gone, the next to fall was Rogelio. Lonnie and Kyle were the only ones to understand and translate him, so when he'd roared for help, nobody came to his aide.

Catra and Adora took it in shifts to sleep and watch; because cats were more nocturnal than humans, Catra would take the night shift, while Adora took the day shifts. On the Monday, they'd been woken from a mutual rest with a screeching alarm bell after only three hours of sleep. On the Tuesday, Adora slipped. Her ankle cracked loudly, swiftly followed by a red face as she bit back the pain. On the Thursday, Catra took note of just how swollen Adora's ankle was. Coupled with the purple markings and thickness of bruising, she'd concluded a sprain, or the more likely option, broken.

On the Friday, Adora lost her temper with an older Force Captain. Catra ended up pulling her away, somewhat scared. Adora, with one right hook and roundhouse kick, put the Captain on his ass, unconscious.

Catra desperately tried not to stroke the fire of Adora's simmering temper since then. Not enough for her to stop pulling her punches.

So, she stayed still.

Adora finally sighed, shoulders falling. She rubbed her eyes, hissing. Whether in pain, annoyance, anger or what, Catra couldn't tell. She glanced at the blue bottle Sparkles gave her. "Must've had too many," She mumbled. Catra darted behind the curtain, taking the moment by the throat. Adora obviously realised the lack of one cat, judging by the heavy sigh. "I'm in too much pain for this,"

The bathroom door shut, and Catra slid down the wall.

~

Catra waited until after Adora had napped before she made her appearance. Usually, the blonde was much more reasonable after she'd slept or eaten something. And, despite loving the cat and mouse thing they always had going on, Catra didn't have enough in her to fight an angry, in pain, sleep-deprived She-Ra with broken ribs.

She perched on the edge of the bed, waiting for Adora to wake.

It took longer than she thought. At one point, around five hours after Adora initially crashed, she made sure the blonde was still breathing by holding her finger underneath her nostrils.

It took nine hours for Adora to wake. That was more than what they received back in the Horde.

Nine hours was apparently all Adora needed. Catra had peacefully curled up by the end, dozing softly, pain-free for a while. Not really, but compared to what she'd been feeling only hours previously, it was an improvement. Catra was given absolutely zero notice as she was woken violently. A hand grasped at her throat, pinning her to the ground. She choked, scratching at the hand and kicking at the assualter. The assaulter grunted with each kick, moving to straddle Catra's waist, pinning her legs to the ground. She gulped at the feel of something very pointy by her jugular.

"Adora, please, let go!" She forced out. Adora's eyes were cloudy as she heaved for breath. "What are you doing here? Haven't you caused enough problems?" She hissed. Catra gulped, grabbing at Adora's hands. She wrenched them away, grunting with the effort.

That had always been apparent, even as young children, toddlers even. Where Catra was flexible and quick, Adora was strong and clever.

Adora's grip faltered for a split second as her eyes cleared. "Cat-Catra?"

Catra brought her knee up straight into Adora's groin, pushing her off by her shoulders. The blonde grunted as she fell onto her back, straddled now by Catra. The magicat held her hands against the ground, panting heavily. Nobody spoke. If Catra wasn't too busy keeping the sword away from her jugular, she would've been slightly concerned at the heavy breaths leaving the blonde's lungs.

Adora's eyes cleared. Then they focussed.

"Catra? What the hell are you doing here?"

~

Catra sat on the floor, cross-legged as she listened to Adora prattle on about stupid things. She'd pushed herself upright, wincing as she moved. Catra resolutely ignored the sharp pang of... guilt? in her heart. Adora initially ignored her for thirty-odd minutes, choosing to attempt to slather some cream onto her back and throwing back several pills. She moved to the bed, hand on her lower back, grunting and wincing with each step. Catra fought back the concern desperately wanting to bleed through.

She and Adora were enemies.
That much was clear.

Yet... watching Adora struggle to even move across a room brought forth something ugly that Catra spent years repressing. Guilt. Untrusting of her own mouth, Catra stayed stewing in silence, waiting for the chatty blonde to break the thick ice.

She didn't. Not for a while. Mostly she sat on the bed in a medicated daze, staring heavily at the wall, swaying slightly. But the clock hit 11:48 and she began to spew. Catra zoned out, having heard the lecture of "joining my side. It's the good side, you'd be better with us" at least ninety times. For a while, only a small while granted, Catra did think about defecting. Sereiously thought about it. The grief Shadow Weaver gave her just wasn't worth it.

Until she was promoted to second-in-command.

She shook her head softly, faking a yawn. "Are you done yet? You've not even asked why I'm here," She leaned against the bed, hating how her eyes slipped shut for a second. Adora shifted on the bed, breathing sharply. Catra's ear twitched; hearing small whines escape the blonde's lips. "Why are you here, Catra?" The tone started strained, clear she was in more pain than she was letting out, ended resigned.

Catra swallowed back the bile.

"Thought I'd pay you a visit," She snarked. Adora stared at her for a few seconds, emotions blurring past from happy to worried to anger to pity to disgust to exhaustion. She sighed heavily, easing herself off the bed. She took her shirt off, replacing it with another, a tank this time.

She slipped off her grey Horde issued trousers, ducking behind a plain of wood, stepping out moments later in grey shorts. Catra found her eyes drawn to her sculped legs, following them up and up and-

She forced her eyes away, stinging as she came across the blood splotched bandages, despite them only being changed a few hours ago. Adora sighed heavily again, sitting on the bed. "I don't care anymore, Catra." She whispered, her voice cracking. Catra narrowed her eyes, putting her walls up high. "Shame you didn't come to that conclusion several months ago," She snarked. Adora pulled her ponytail out, screweing her eyes shut as her lifted arms up. Catra resisted the urge to help, instead changing into her loaned sleep wear.

She turned back, meeting the calculating and weary gaze of her ex-best friend. "Ugh, what?" She snapped, rubbing her arms. Adora shrugged lightly. "Nothing, nothing," Adora stood and moved to the light. "Good night, Catra,"

And the room plunged into darkness.