She-Ra fics (2018)

Virus - P4

Adora takes a steep downhill turn in the night. Catra begins to panic as she desperately tries to get Glimmer's aunt to help her best friend before it's too late.

~

When she was stressed, Catra found herself picking at her claws. More often than not, she'd end up picking at them too long and they'd break or splinter. She did so in the Horde a lot. She'd ruin at least one claw a day, or certainly damage them irreparably. When her claws began to bleed, she'd bandage them up briefly, lick the blood away and continue about her day. Scorpia had noticed and often chastised her for ruining her claws. Catra, of course, hissed and growled at her to leave her alone. Entrapta had taken notice as well and engineered some mechanical claws to put over the top of Catra's healing ones.

She called them false nails.

Catra threw them across the room in dismissal but later returned to try them on. They worked, of course. But in her haste to escape Horde Prime, she left them back in the Fright Zone. She hissed as one of her claws split, a small trail of blood leaking from the wound.

Catra sighed angrily and began to pace.

That was another thing she did when she was stressed. Pacing often helped her organise her thoughts. Adora grumbled from the bed. Catra stopped pacing and moved to be by her side. She peered over, sniffing. The scent hadn't gotten any worse in the last few hours, but it hadn't gotten any better. Adora rolled onto her side, snoring softly. Catra continued pacing.

God, all that stupid She-Ra did was hurt Adora. First, she took her away from Catra. Then she caused her pain with the magic at the heart when Sparkles helped activate the portal. Then she hurt her when the heart needed destroying the heart. Then the stupid guardian at the heart poisoned her with some magical virus, that only she could see. Jesus, if Adora hadn't picked up the damned sword in the first place, somebody else would've been She-Ra, and Adora would be safe and healthy.

Catra perched on the edge of the bed, huffing softly. Before Adora fell asleep, Catra wanted to wake Sparkles up to get her aunt here, but Adora refused. "Leave Glim to sleep. It's midnight, Catra," She'd whispered, gently touching her hand. Catra wanted to snatch it back with a warning growl but resisted the Horde imprinted urge. Instead, she settled for rolling her eyes. "Whatever. Don't die in the night, because I won't care," She said. Adora snorted. "Shut up, yes you would," She eased herself up, hissing slightly. Catra kept up her nonchelant face. "Nah I won't. You've had your chance, you ignored it," She grinned. "Now perish,"

Somehow that ended up in the two of them in a pillow fight, something Catra deeply missed doing as young girls in the Horde. Eventually, they settled back down at around one. Catra claimed she was bored and didn't want to play anymore, but she suspected Adora knew she was bullshitting her.

Catra couldn't watch Adora's sunken, pale face try to force joy onto it just to ease her nerves any longer.
Adora passed out quickly, and here they were, at... she glanced at the wall... 1:43 am.

Catra smoothed back her hair with a sigh. She took a final look at her ailing best friend, though she suspected they were inching more into something akin to partners (not that she'd ever admit it), and lay on the ground on a pile of blankets. She finally shut her eyes and went to sleep.

Or tried to.

Shortly after she shut her eyes (liar, it was two hours later) she was woken up by a cold feeling slithering down her back... like she was being watched. Her traumatized inner child taking over, she kept her eyes loosely shut, hoping Shadow Weaver whoever was watching her would leave. But then she abruptly realised Shadow Weaver was dead, and nobody was in her room. Instead, she sat with a frown, rubbing her eyes. "Dora?" She mumbled. There was no answer. Catra grumbled as she sat on her knees, looking at the bed. "Adora?" She asked again. The sheets were rumpled, like she'd left in a hurry. Catra stood, crawling across the bed. A small damp stain, possibly sweat (or blood... it was a 50/50 for either really) marred the mattress. "Adora?" She called.

Catra glanced around the room briefly, worry settling into her bones. She stood. "Adora!" She called loudly. In her peripheral, a light lit. She spun. It was the bathroom. "Adora?" She called again. She knocked on the door, gently pushing it open. "Oh, baby,"

What the hell?! Catra had NEVER referred to ANYBODY as "baby" in her ENTIRE life! Not even real BABIES!

Adora sat in a crumpled mess on the ground, one arm draped loosely over the toilet, another propping her head up. "Sorry," She mumbled. "Did I wake you?" Catra huffed, sitting by her side. "No, dummy. What happened to you?" She briefly felt her forehead, alarmed at the burning feel. "You sick?" She asked. Adora grunted. "Feel it," She moaned. Catra inhaled quickly. "Have you actually been sick?" She asked. Adora waved her hand. "Kinda,"

Catra sighed to keep her patience in check. "Have you blown chunks? Yes, or no? Simple question, Dora," She spoke as evenly as she could. Adora whined. "Tiny bit," She moved closer to the bowl, groaning. "I'd get out... I think I'm gonna hurl," She warned. Catra shook her head, despite her every being telling her to GET OUT.

"Nope. We're in this together. I'm not leaving you. Never again," She vowed. Adora smiled weakly before fulfilling her word and puking in the bowl. Catra shut her eyes tightly, rubbing her back stiffly. "Jesus. You haven't even eaten today, why do you have so much to throw up?" She commented a few seconds later. Adora just groaned, reaching to flush the awful stuff away. She sat up a little straighter. "It's not even proper puke... it's weird code-like stuff." She rubbed her mouth with some tissue paper. Catra peered over briefly. "Just looks like saliva," She commented. Adora tutted. "We've established you can't see it,"

Catra flicked her ear. Adora leaned against the sink, breathing slowly. "Any better?" She asked. Adora shrugged one shoulder. "A little... but I still feel really sick," Catra sighed angrily. "Stay here. I'm getting Sparkles,"

Adora's hand grabbed her tail. "No! Please don't!" She begged. Catra yanked her tail out. "Will you stop being so goddam heroic and accept help, for once in your life?" She snapped. Adora glared. "I'm not gonna get any worse over the next four hours. Just wake her then. Please," She begged. Catra huffed. "Fine."

She paused for a moment, rubbing her eyes. "Don't die," She snapped. Adora whined. "I said don't-" Catra ignored her and continued walking. She moved to Adora's bed, grabbed the blanket and a few of her (ridiculously fluffy pillows) and dragged it all to the bathroom. "May as well camp in here if you're gonna blow," She curled up by the bath. "Try and sleep at least a little, ok?" She asked. Adora wiped her mouth with some damp tissue. "Thanks, Catra... for... well, a lot," Adora laid by her side, her wound facing the ceiling. Catra snorted. "Don't be so sentimental, dork. Just sleep,"