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

~~~

The Horde make a well-placed strike; shaking the rebellion deeply. Adora loses control.

~~~

Catra woke up the following morning to an empty bed. Scratch that, an empty room. She rubbed her eyes harshly, colours bursting behind her closed lids. God, how could she be so stupid!? Getting that close to Adora again... after all that time apart. Just... helping her like she used to.

Catra snapped at the air, growling lowly. She'd worked too damn hard to get where she was... she'd hurt too many people to turn back. If fucking Shadow Weaver hadn't gotten into Hordak's head, Catra would still be at the Fright Zone, with Scorpia and Entrapta, planning the next move.

"My Lord, surely you will punish her? She failed and caused the Horde much in losses. Never mind the laughing stock we are," Shadow Weaver crooned into Hordak's ear. Catra was summoned to his sanctum where he laid into her. "She is right. Shadow Weaver, that is. You have caused us much in losses. Tanks, weapons, soldiers, bots, tech obtained by Entrapta," He'd shook his head. "But you also came the closest in destroying the Rebellion. And the woods are frozen, allowing us passage with no resistance," He'd mused. Catra stayed frozen in fear.

After deliberation, Hordak decreed she was to be beaten for failing so spectacularly, but able to keep her Force Captain rank for the success.

Shadow Weaver was all too pleased to witness the beating.

So Catra ran. If Hordak was too weak to allow Shadow Weaver's manipulations, then Catra wouldn't stick around to watch. So, broken ribs and all, she fled.

She jumped out of bed, growling in frustration as she moved about the room. Pacing was something she'd found helpful in managing her anger. It allowed her to take a few moments to organise her thoughts; to reorder what she wanted and how she wanted it done. She walked to the window, sighed, walked to the bathroom, sighed louder, walked to the bed, growled, walked back to the window, growled louder, walked to the mirror, and screamed.

Her eyes fell upon a piece of paper. With a tsk, she picked it up.

Catra.

​​​​​​​I honestly don't know if you'll remember helping me last night, or if you even want to, but thank you. I managed to sneak some food up for you in the night. It's stuff I think you might like; I do. They're my favourite. The Queen has a guard training session today that I have to supervise, so don't go thinking you can escape. Today, in particular, the castle and its grounds will be crawling with guards who have orders to detain (and quite possibly harm you for cooperation) on site.

If you really wanna get out of here... I will help you leave, quickly and quietly. I know a back way in. But you'll have to wait until tomorrow at the earliest. So... don't do anything stupid. I'm not gonna risk being thrown in jail if you can't wait a day.

See you tonight.

Catra crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it across the room with a yell. It bounced against the wall, hitting and rolling across the ground. Catra stomped over, raising her foot to crush it-

-when something caught her eye.

She bent over, hissing slightly at the pain in her side, picking the shiny thing up. Her badge, she realised with a gasp. She turned it over, examining it. Her eyes caught a plate of food, just at eye level, on the bedside unit. Some weird... brown crusty stuff with an odd red coating over the top. She leaned in closer, sniffing.

Strawberries.

She looked at the badge again.
If she could radio to Hordak... maybe she could get her rank back... maybe she could take Shadow Weavers.

She pressed the comm.

~

Adora rubbed her head as she sat in the war room. Alwyn had been taken. The village that was so peaceful, so unassuming, so... non-threatening... gone. The Horde attacked in the night with a team of only ten, plus a Force Captain. She sat there, listening as the Princesses bad-mouthed Catra, calling her every name, quite literally, from a pig to a dog.

Yet, there was no way Catra was behind this particular attack. She was eating strawberry jam on toast in Adora's bedroom for one thing. Never mind that she couldn't even walk to the bathroom without wincing. She sighed heavily, grimacing when it irritated her back.

The ten angry slashes were stubborn fuckers. They refused to heal; barely closing by themselves after nearly a week. Stupidly, thinking she hid the pain, Adora grumbled into her hands. "Guys, this isn't working!" She snapped. The Princesses stopped arguing, all eight heads turning to stare. She rubbed her eyes harshly. "Catra wasn't behind this," She began. "Yeah, because you know her so well," Mermista drawled. Adora glared. "Uh, yeah. I do," She snapped. "And I know she'd want us to know it was her attack," She sighed heavily, ignoring the flash of burning on her back. "Believe me, this wasn't her doing,"

She stormed out shortly after, claiming she needed air. She barged into her room, slamming the door shut. "What's got your knickers in a twist?" The magicat remarked sarcastically from the window ledge. Adora stalked over, grabbing Catra by her shirt. "What game are you playing here, Catra? Huh?" She snapped. Catra's eyes widened in shock. "You think this is fun? Sneaking into Brightmoon, claiming you're hurt, helping me heal after what you did!? Huh?!" The magicat seemed at a loss for words.

Adora dropped her with a sigh. "The Horde took Alwyn," She sighed. Catra stayed quiet. "They killed nearly everyone," Adora continued. "Perfuma and Mermista recovered the body of a nine-year-old girl, Catra. A nine-year-old," She snapped. "When is this gonna end? The Horde weren't interested in actually killing people all this time..." She paused. "Were they?"

Catra didn't speak. Adora whirled in a temper, grabbing her shirt again. "WERE THEY!?" She screamed. Catra clawed at her hands, shoving her back. "Of course we were!"

Adora stumbled back, not because she'd been forced to, but because of the weight of the words. "What do you think they were training us for?" Catra chuckled. "Don't show weakness, don't help anybody, move on if somebody dies, don't mourn the lost," She listed. "You think they did it for fun!?" She yelled. Adora's chin quivered. "I didn't think they were training us to kill Catra. To obtain enemy bases, yes, But to slaughter pointlessly?" She questioned. Catra shrugged. "If you were too stupid to think otherwise, then that's on you,"

Adora's vision warped dangerously as images of the burned girl flooded her mind. "We were raised as killing machines?" She whispered. Catra scoffed. "Wow, you really are stupid," She mocked. "Boo hoo,"

Adora pressed a fist to her mouth. "I can't believe you were okay with this... wait, did you know? Did you really, honestly, truly know? That we were being used as murderers?" She raised her eyes to meet Catra's. The magicat held her gaze for a second, before looking away. "Yes," She said.

Adora's ears rang as her head filled with cotton.
She looked to the ground in a daze, unable to form coherent thoughts.

And she ran.