Summary: For Catra, growing up in the Horde was only easy when Adora was there, too.

Note: This is going to be a series of one-shots focusing on Adora and Catra growing up in the Horde in no particular order. So, every chapter they will be a different age!

In this first chapter, the gorls are 11 years old.

Bullies

The thing about living in the Horde is you have to learn to get by on your own. There are other people there, sure, and you spend every second of every day with them. So, everyone is your friend but they're also not, because everyone is just competing against each other from the moment they arrive. Competing to be the best in order to prove their worth.

So, Catra keeps her gaze low as she swings open her locker door, keeping to herself as she always does. Her chest heaves and sweat still coats her skin from the training session she'd just come out of. The distant voices nearby speak words she can't bother to decipher.

She'd recognized the only other figures when she'd walked in, huddled at the opposite end of the locker room. They're the kids she had been grouped with in the simulation today. She sees them around the Fright Zone sometimes, but she doesn't train with them often. They're only older by a few years but still, no one ever associates with the other age groups.

So, Catra ignores their loud disruptiveness as best as she can. Still, she can't help but overhear one of the kids' biting words, practically echoing within the dire room.

"You think you're better than me, huh, blondie?"

A much smaller, weaker voice speaks up, hardly audible beneath all the other commotion. "I didn't mean…"

"I'm top soldier around here. Not you!" booms the older boy.

There are two others hovering nearby, arms crossed and not saying a word. The one shouting is much taller than the rest, with short red hair and arm muscles bulging.

And that blonde ponytail… her frame much tinier than the others, backed against the corner of the locker room. Catra can't see her very well from the three pairs of broad shoulders that block her view, but that voice is home to her.

"Are you gonna cry?" the teenager continues in a mocking tone. "Are you gonna cry like the little baby you are?"

Of course. Of all the soldiers competing today, Adora got the highest score. It was her first win. She was so happy. She'd immediately ran to Catra afterwards, practically jumping up and down because of her achievement. Without question, the other girl had been ecstatic for her. She may have been the onlyone that was.

Catra's chest tightens with rage. "Hey!" She steps out from behind the shield of her open locker door.

With the room suddenly silent, all heads crane to look at her. After a few moments, the boy turns to face Catra completely.

All three of their hard glares pierce into Catra's eyes. Still, her stone expression remains unfaltering, chin lowered and eyebrows furrowed together. Catra's not afraid of them. She isn't afraid of anyone.

"Leave her alone," she says, maintaining an even tone.

The boy exchanges snarky glances with his friends, attempting to hold back a snicker at that pathetic demand. Threateningly, he takes a step forward. "What are you gonna do about it, cat-girl?"

Catra's ear twitches in irritation. The name has been heard by her too many times. Still, she'd stopped letting that hurt her a long time ago. It only causes her fists to clench harder at her sides, claws digging carelessly into skin.

The redhead scoffs at Catra's silence. "That's what I thought." Dismissively, he turns his back to her, once again returning all attention to Adora.

Catra's ears lower, heat rising to her face and eyes absolutely fuming. "I said leave her alone!" She lunges towards the kids, their tall figures towering overhead.

Desperate hands clutch onto the redhead's arm, struggling to pull him away to get him to face her. At first, the boy remains unmoving, his strength clearly no match for Catra's own. Then he whips around in an instant, his fist shooting through the air out of nowhere.

Adora shouts her name.

Catra grunts as she stumbles back. Heat boils on her suddenly throbbing cheekbone. When she retracts a hand from her face, a trickle of blood spots her fingertips.

Catra thinks she can hear Adora's voice again, telling her it's not worth it. She blocks that out too, because all she can really see is the way the boy is looking down at her right now, like he's proud. Like he knows he can get away with what he wants.

He scoffs again, eyeing her smugly. He takes another step, but before he can get any closer, Catra releases a vicious snarl from the back of her throat and claws her nails across his face, knocking him into the wall of lockers.

Later that day.

Catra hisses from the stinging pain on her cheek, momentarily breaking the silence of the tiny bathroom.

Adora flinches, retracting the cold towel from Catra's face. Her wide eyes blink from the reaction she'd just accidentally caused, shoulders tensing as if Catra's physical pain were also her own.

After a second, they both relax as they sit in chairs opposite one another. The word 'sorry' hangs on Adora's tongue, but she remains silent. Catra notices it, her heart tightening just from the soft expression on the blonde girl's face.

Catra lets her continue, despite the instinct to push the other girl away whenever it begins to hurt. Still, Adora's touch is beyond delicate as she holds the ice-cold cloth to her newly-formed bruise.

Thankfully, the incident in the locker room hadn't gone on for much longer after Catra left three bloody scratches across the one boy's nose.

More kids coming from training had entered the room moments afterwards, distracting the group from whatever conflict that had been started. Maybe it was from the shock of Catra fighting back, but somehow he had let Adora drag her away before the situation got worse.

They both know Catra wouldn't have stopped on her own, anyway. She could've kept going for days. He was also sure to let Adora know that if he had anything to do with it, it was the last time she would achieve the highest score on his watch.

"You didn't have to do that," Adora tells her.

Catra turns her head away slightly, eyebrows heavy over her eyes. Yes, she did.

Adora notices her silence. "You shouldn't keep picking fights like that, Catra." All it ever does is get Catra into trouble, and Adora never wants to see that.

"I wasn't picking fights," she defends, her tone significantly more aggressive.

Adora takes a steady breath. She's not going to argue with her about that. They've done it before. She just… hates seeing Catra like this - letting herself get pushed around because she doesn't think that she's worth anything more. Why can't Catra just see that she really does matter, despite what everyone else says or thinks about her?

"I just don't want you to get seriously hurt one day, that's all," Adora reasons gently. Especially not over her.

It's bad enough seeing Catra with a giant, scabbed bruise on her face that really only happened in the first place because of Adora, so she really wouldn't be able to live with herself if something worse ended up happening to her, too.

Catra suddenly rises to a stand, smacking Adora's hand away from her face. The chair scrapes abruptly across the tiles. "I only did it for you, dummy!" Catra shouts, her boiling anger finally erupting.

She had just stood up for Adora from a bunch of bullies and instead of saying thank you, Adora just wants to scold her like everybody else? Why does she even bother? Why can't Adora ever try to see all the things that Catra does for her?

Adora is too stunned from the other girl's outburst to even think about what to say to that. By the time she's processed what's happened, Catra has already left.

The bathroom door slams shut, leaving Adora to sit there alone, the cold towel still held limp in her hand.

Note: Always open to fic suggestions! :)