Bad End of the World

I'll Be Your Distraction

Catra

Catra didn't know what to feel. She didn't have time to process the fact that Shadow Weaver was actually gone. She felt like she should be happy, but instead she felt lost, and confused. And worse, she was crying, actually crying, for Shadow Weaver of all people, and she didn't understand why.

She literally tried to kill me, Catra thought. She believed she'd been done for this time, too. She thought her bones would have been twisted and broken, and thought every breath would be her last. But then the vicious magic had stopped, and she'd watched as Adora plunged that broken sword further and further into Shadow Weaver's chest.

It was brutal. She'd seen Adora's face, contorted into a mask of rage. It was something she'd never thought she'd witness, not from Adora, at least.

"Catra, I..."

Adora had actually snapped, had actually killed someone, and Catra couldn't help but feel the weight of responsibility for it. She knew now that she should have been kinder. She should have taken Adora's words seriously, should have offered her something other than hate in return. She certainly should have done something more than selfishly, hatefully fuck her against a wall, as though Catra's own feelings were the only ones that mattered.

"Shh, it's okay."

She felt Adora's tears seep into the fur at her neck, felt her cling to her desperately while loudly sobbing. Catra had never seen Adora this vulnerable before, and it felt as though her own heart might burst.

"It's okay," she said, her voice cracking. "We'll be okay."

Catra clung onto Adora just as tightly, and soon felt overwhelmed. The loss of a mother figure, despite it being a terrible, murderous one, was bad enough, but the thought that Adora had blood on her hands and it was all her fault was more than she could bear.

"Adora, I'm so sorry..."

Catra began to cry, too. She let everything spill out, until her hot floods of tears made it difficult to breathe. She was done fighting, tired of pretending that she'd ever wanted anything other than the woman in her arms, and if feeling this way made her weak, she didn't even care anymore. She finally got it. Finally understood that Adora did love her, every bit as much as she loved her.

--

Eventually their tears stopped, and the room fell eerily silent. Catra pulled away from the embrace, wiped away her own tears, and then Adora's, too, but Adora flinched ever so slightly at the contact, and Catra felt appalled at herself for assuming her touch would ever be welcome again.

"Sorry," she muttered, pulling her hand away.

"No," Adora said, grasping weakly for it, then squeezing Catra's fingers. "It's okay."

Catra managed a weak smile, feeling surprised and relieved from the simple gesture. But Adora's eyes were duller than ever, and Catra wasn't sure what to do. So she tried again, raised her hand and slowly, gently wiped away the residual tears from Adora's cheeks with her thumb.

"You're hurt," whispered Adora. She gently stroked her fingers across Catra's sore neck, and the soft, undeserved affection made Catra feel like crying all over again.

"I'll live," she said, taking a deep breath. "Thanks to you."

Adora blinked a few times, and then grimaced. "I... I really killed her."

"She was going to kill me," said Catra. She tipped her forehead to Adora's. "You know it. I know it."

Adora shook her head, and fresh tears appeared at her cheeks. Catra knew what she was going through, of course. She still remembered the first time she'd killed someone - a young, Plumerian boy, about their age. She'd watched his eyes glaze over, and smelt his blood beneath her claws for days afterwards. Adora was going to need time, but unfortunately, time was the one luxury they didn't have.