Chapter 25

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[Author's note: This chapter contains blood and reference to physical violence. It also refers to events that took place in chapter 15, which may be triggering to survivors of sexual assault and police violence. Reader discretion is advised. Please see the end of the chapter for specific content warnings.]

For three days, Catra held her breath.

Not literally, of course. But emotionally, mentally, it felt like she hadn't exhaled since her conversation with Hordak. She was waiting for something to happen — something big and earth shattering. Instead, she reported to the garage each day and found Shadow Weaver skulking around at Hordak's side as if everything was the same as it had always been.

At first, Catra was pissed; how could Hordak not act? How could he keep a traitor like Shadow Weaver so close, knowing what she'd done? Maybe this was the way it would always be. Even in a gang, everything was so stacked against Catra's success that she was starting to wonder if Adora had the right idea about wanting to leave.

By the third day, Catra was resigned to accept that her gamble hadn't paid off after all. She'd made her move, and it had failed.

Then, after yet another long night standing watch at Hordak's door and a short nap in the back of Scorpia's car, Catra wandered through the garage and shoved her way into the back where she found Hordak waiting for her. This time, Shadow Weaver was nowhere to be seen.

Catra and Hordak stared each other down by way of greeting. There were no pleasantries between them, and to be honest, Catra preferred it that way.

"Do you need me for something?" she asked, her voice still hoarse from sleep.

Hordak replied by turning his back to her.

"Follow me," he said.

Begrudgingly, Catra did as she was told. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Scorpia, huddled around a map of the city with a couple of other gangsters. Another strategy session. Things around the garage had been tense since the warehouse raid. Everyone was scrambling, trying to figure out how to move product and take care of all the other grunt work without the help of their loyal little foot soldiers. Losing the kids had been a major blow to the Horde's operations, and now everyone was expected to step up to fill in the gaps. As she and Hordak crossed the room, Catra caught Scorpia's eye. Wordlessly, Scorpia motioned to Hordak as if to ask, 'what's going on?' Catra responded with a bewildered shrug before being ushered down a back hallway.

Hordak didn't say a word as he led her down the corridor. The only sound was that of their boots thumping against the poured concrete floor and echoing back at them off the bland cinder block walls. At last, Hordak stopped his marching and turned back to Catra. He pulled a key from his pocket and slid it into the lock on one of the nondescript steel doors that lined the walls. Then, he stepped aside and gestured toward it.

"After you," he said. There was no intonation to his words — no way for Catra to discern what his intentions were. Her heart rate quickened as she turned the key with one hand and closed the other into a fist. If this was a trap, she was prepared to fight her way out or die trying.

Instead, what she found on the other side of the door took her breath away.

There, bathed in the harsh fluorescent light that spilled into the room from the hallway, was Shadow Weaver. She sat crumpled on the floor with her hands bound behind her back. Blood poured from her mouth and a gash on her forehead, spilling down to stain her rumpled white blouse. Shadow Weaver raised her eyes and locked them on Catra. Her gaze was inscrutable and unflinching, and Catra couldn't help but shrink under the weight of it.

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