A/N: Okay here's the comfort half of that hurt/comfort... sorry about that. There was just no way to fit all this in one chapter without it being absolutely massive.

CONTENT WARNING for repressed memories, vague suicidal ideation, and references to self-harm.

Catra's eyelids snap open, a sharp breath sucking in through her teeth.

Purple. That's all she sees, all she possibly can see. Her wide eyes are locked in place, just like every muscle in her body. She can barely even breathe.

Her ears still kind of work, even if they're pinned tight against her skull. It's noisy where she is, which is apparently not with that scary lady and man… Shadow Weaver and Hordak, right. That knowledge does little to alleviate the terror still coursing through her veins.

It takes a few seconds to register that the noise is several muffled voices talking over each other. She can't make sense of any of them until Adora's voice echoes through the murky depths, distant and distorted. "Catra?"

Her eyelids flutter, a warm sensation seeping into her bones as her fists unclench just the slightest bit. When her eyes refocus, they land on Adora's worried face.

"Catra, are you okay?" asks Adora, laying a gentle, hesitant hand on her thigh.

It all comes rushing back to her. She's in Dryl, with her friends. Her friends, that dumb archer, and that talking horse. Her body is still slumped against the couch, legs draped over Adora's lap. No one has moved except to lean closer, five sets of curious eyes drilling into her all at once. They haven't moved since she… since Shadow Weaver…

Oh, fuck.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Catra releases a breath that's half exasperation and half relief.

"Catra?" This time it's Scorpia calling her name.

"What?" Catra halfway growls, barely opening her eyes.

Scorpia shares a worried glance with Adora before echoing her words. "Are you okay?"

Catra's about to answer when she feels a tremor in her left hand, the one that's not still impaling Entrapta's fancy couch with its claws. Winding it tightly in her shirt, she answers, "Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Uh…" Grimacing slightly in anticipation, Swift Wind hazards, "You kinda fainted, there."

Catra bristles. "I did not faint," she huffs, flicking Adora's hand off her leg. Not even to appear tough, but because she can't stand the contact. The attention. All these people staring at her like she's about to break down. "What am I, a princess? I'm just tired, that's all."

No one dares question this. Satisfied that she's shut them all up, Catra closes her eyes again and stretches luxuriously. Or at least she hopes it looks that way. Really she takes so long because the paralysis is still wearing off, much too slowly for her liking. Finishing with a yawn that's only half fake, she asks, "Did I sleep long?"

"Like twenty seconds," says Scorpia.

"Eighteen, actually," Entrapta corrects her, but quietly, unobtrusively. The instant Catra looks her way, she averts her eyes.

"Felt longer," mumbles Catra.

Adora starts to reach out again, then curls her fingers into a fist and lets it fall to the cushion, resting beside Catra's leg. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Please," scoffs Catra. "I've heard worse."

The sad part is, she's not even lying. She just wasn't expecting it here, now. She let her guard down, let herself maybe start to enjoy her life a little bit, only for Shadow Weaver to destroy her again the second she was vulnerable. Why does she even bother?

"Is that supposed to be comforting?" asks Bow, a rather concerned look on his face.

"I dunno, is it?" she snaps. "If you're not comfortable here you can leave, Arrow Boy. Not my problem."

"That's not-" He shakes his head. "Never mind."

Taking the time to look each person in the eyes before speaking again, Catra finally says, "Well, this has been thrilling, but I think I'll finish that nap somewhere else." Swinging her legs off Adora's lap, she plants her feet on the floor and stands, somehow managing not to lose her balance in the process. "Have fun with the Devil Diaries."

The room is quiet for a long moment, everyone listening to the retreating ticks of Catra's claws against the metal floor as she walks away. When the sound finally fades, Entrapta exclaims, "I am so, so sorry!" Fingers fidgeting mightily, her worried eyes flick between Scorpia and Adora. "This is bad, isn't it?"

"Yes!" snaps Adora, glaring at her bewilderedly.

"Very," Scorpia says at the same time, eyes downcast.

A noise somewhere between a groan and a whimper passes Entrapta's lips, her dangling legs kicking furiously at the air. Adora's anger evaporates instantly, leaving only regret in its wake. Brow creasing in concern, she stands and rounds the coffee table.

"Entrapta, you didn't know," says Adora, laying a hand on her shoulder. A hand Entrapta promptly shrinks away from. Frowning, Adora pulls back and continues, "It's not your fault, it's mine. I was the one who asked you to read those entries."

"And I'm the one who called Catra a pet," Entrapta counters, head hanging in shame. "I should have known. How did I not clue in that it was her? I wasn't thinking, and I hurt my friend."

"Hey, Entrapta. Breathe." Kneeling in front of the rolling chair, Scorpia peels off her girlfriend's work gloves and places her hands on the sides of her own head. Entrapta obeys the unspoken prompt, rubbing the fuzzy sides of Scorpia's scalp. Within moments, she releases a calmer, slower breath.

Okay, Adora really needs to try that sometime.

"I don't think that's why she's upset, okay?" Scorpia says gently. "It was what Shadow Weaver said, not you." Forcing a chuckle, she adds, "'Mongrel' is worse than 'pet.' I'd know."

Between the implication of Scorpia's own struggles and the mere sound of that word, Adora can't help but grimace. Literally 'mongrel' just means a creature of mixed breeding, but it's intended for animals, not people. It may not technically be a bad word, but Adora has heard it directed at Catra and Rogelio enough times to know how hurtful it can be. Even when she hears it used correctly it makes her uncomfortable, considering her history.

"It couldn't have helped," mutters Entrapta.

"It's okay," insists Scorpia. "Catra's strong. She'll be fine."

Entrapta draws her hands back, eyes dropping to her lap. "You should go find her. She shouldn't be alone right now."

Intercepting Entrapta's wrists a few inches from her stomach, Scorpia holds them gently in her pincers. "Neither should you. Adora can go, she's Catra's best friend."

"Ah, not really," Adora stammers, hands burying themselves in her pockets. "She actually said pretty clearly that I'm not her best friend again, at least not yet." Twitching her mouth sheepishly, she tells Scorpia, "I'm pretty sure it's you."

Scorpia rolls her eyes. "Even if that's true, she's probably up on the roof. Only way I'm getting up there is on the skiff, and it's not like there's anywhere to park it. If I try to climb a rope my claws will just snap it, so."

"I could fly you up there?" Swift Wind suggests tentatively.

"Not the point, Swift Wind," Bow mutters in his direction.

Adora shakes her head as she reconsiders. "No, she's right, it should be me. I'm the one who knows… well, I know better than anyone else, anyway, what went on with her and Shadow Weaver."

At that moment it occurs to her, so much more history could be stored in these files. Maybe Shadow Weaver didn't bother to document things with Catra, given how little she seemed to care about her. But on the other hand, if she enjoyed torturing her as much as Catra says she did, maybe she recorded her sins for her own amusement. Maybe she should search for Catra's name, or the various slurs Shadow Weaver might have used in its place. It might help her understand Catra better, help her predict what might trigger her blow ups and flashbacks. On the other hand, she doesn't want to invade Catra's privacy. That in itself is a sure way to trigger a blow up.

Shaking her head, she pushes that possibility aside for now in favor of considering her journey to the roof. Dryl has several towers of varying heights all spread out, which makes for a lot of space to check. And Adora doesn't have time to mess around.

"I think I'll take you up on that ride, Swiftie," she says. "You just have to promise to be quiet, not to spook her."

"You got it, Adora," he says with an uncharacteristically solemn nod, not even one joke about how he is in fact capable of being quiet. Even he must sense the gravity of the situation.

As Adora steps up to him and prepares to mount, she hears a small, squeaky voice. "Adora?" When she looks over her shoulder, she finds Entrapta cringing apologetically. "Can you tell her I'm sorry?"

"Yes," says Adora, giving her a nod of solidarity. "But you should probably tell her too, when she comes down." Adora's just placing her hands on Swift Wind's back when something occurs to her. Turning back to Entrapta, she adds, "Just, like, don't be specific about it. Hearing it again isn't going to help."

Entrapta nods and flashes a thumbs up, and Adora mounts Swift Wind and gives a soft kick to his flank. "Let's go!"

***o***

Tail wrapping tighter around her waist, Catra watches the hypnotic sway of her feet as they dangle over the chasm below. She drags a single claw back and forth over the underside of her forearm. Back and forth, back and forth. Not deep enough to draw blood, just deep enough to leave white scratch marks visible in the skin under the sparse layer of fur. Just deep enough to keep all her emotions at a low boil, keep her from doing anything stupid. With Shadow Weaver dead and gone, there's no one to lash out at besides herself. If this is what she has to do to keep from taking a wild leap with a feral scream to end it all, she'll do it.

Maybe if she dug deeper she could get a temporary reprieve from what ails her, but some part of her wants to think about it. To mull it over, search for some meaning in it, wallow in the misery it brings. To commit it to memory because, like it or not, this is her history.

Unlike most of the memories that haunt her, Catra has no prior recollection of that scene. She's lived in the Fright Zone for as long as she can remember, recent events notwithstanding. She doesn't remember arriving, or her life before. Some of her nightmares feel real in the moment - so real - but when she wakes she knows they were not. But this one… this one's different. Somewhere deep inside her, Catra senses that this must be real. And she hates it.

She hates that it happened. She hates that she remembers it. She hates that woman who wrote her off without ever giving her a chance, who made her life one of hardship for no reason other than prejudice and spite. The senselessness of it all… why did it have to be her? What did she ever do to deserve it?

Catra knows now. Nothing. She did nothing. Nothing but exist. It was easier to believe Shadow Weaver had a reason to hate her. All Catra has ever been able to remember is a cycle of resentment and violence, with no beginning and (until recently) no end. Then again, she always knew Shadow Weaver hated her unfairly. This shouldn't be a surprise, nor should it upset her.

At least now she has an answer to that question she posed to Shadow Weaver over and over in life and in death: Why? It's an extremely dissatisfying answer, but an answer nonetheless.

Growling quietly, Catra glares up at the dark clouds forming overhead. "Are you ever going to leave me alone?"

Silence hangs heavy around her, oppressive as the humidity in the mountain air. She sighs, gaze dropping to her trembling hands, and asks an even more difficult question.

"Am I ever going to be able to let you go?"

This time, the silence lasts but a few seconds. Catra's ears swivel, flick at the sound of wings approaching. Large ones.

Oh, great. It's Adora to the Rescue again.

Pulling her legs up into her chest, she sighs into her knees. How is she supposed to stop dragging Adora into her shit if Adora keeps dragging herself in?

Adora's footsteps are quiet as she dismounts and approaches, too quiet. What, does she think Catra will fall apart at the slightest provocation?

"I thought you'd be on the roof, but this is even better," remarks Adora, taking in the scenery for herself. They're on the beam jutting from Dryl's tallest tower into the cliffside, giving them an unparalleled view of the city and castle grounds.

When Catra doesn't answer, her only reaction an annoyed flick of her ear, Adora frowns and joins her in sitting. Eyes on her dangling feet, she furrows her brow. Now that she's here, she doesn't really know what to say. What can she possibly say to make what happened even remotely okay?

Recalling her final moments in the lab, Adora finally settles on, "Entrapta wanted me to tell you she's sorry."

Catra's ears swivel slightly in her direction, though she still doesn't answer. But at least she's listening.

"I'm sorry too," adds Adora, nibbling at her lip. "I wasn't thinking about what else might be in those files."

Catra shrugs, still watching the clouds. "It's not your fault Shadow Weaver was a bitch."

"Yeah, but I should have known better than to have Entrapta of all people read it aloud in public. It's no one's business but ours."

"And the whole rebellion's now," remarks Catra. She grimaces at the mere thought. "Wonder how many of them have read all about it by now."

There's movement beside her, a soft slapping sound, then Adora's voice muffled in her palms. "Gods, that's humiliating."

Catra scoffs. She can't help it. Finally turning to look Adora in the eye, she asks, "What's the worst she could have said about you?"

Adora's mouth drops open in protest. Even if Shadow Weaver sung her praises most of the time, that doesn't mean she wants everyone to know all about Shadow Weaver's questionable child-rearing strategies or read every backhanded compliment about Adora's untapped potential. While she was curious enough to look for herself, the idea of all her successes and failures, rewards and punishments being made public is horrifying. Okay, maybe it won't be public per se, but she's not exactly comfortable giving a group of people she's on uncertain terms with such sensitive information, potential psychological weaponry. And she really doesn't appreciate Catra's insinuation that there is nothing at stake for her here.

Her lips move wordlessly a couple times before she snaps them shut with a sigh, directing her glare down at her lap. This isn't worth getting into right now. Catra's upset, and understandably so. Besides, Adora came up here to comfort Catra and apologize, not to argue. Shoving those feelings down, she places a gentle hand on Catra's back. "You okay?"

Catra stiffens at the contact, averting her eyes. "I'm fine."

And maybe it's not just Catra, maybe it's being iced out by Glimmer, rejected by Entrapta, questioned by Bow, but Adora has had just about enough of this.

"Okay, are you seriously going to do this?" snaps Adora.

Catra blinks back in surprise to find Adora glaring at her, hands furled into determined fists.

"You gave me so much shit for not opening up to you or letting you comfort me. You're being such a hypocrite right now," accuses Adora. "I thought we were trying to be more open with each other."

Fuck, this isn't what Catra wanted. She didn't want to hurt Adora, or make her mad, she just...

"You shouldn't have to worry about me," Catra says to her lap, prompting a predictable scoff from Adora. Rolling her eyes, she meets Adora's with an annoyed squint. "You've spent so long worrying about other people, never yourself. I just wanted you to have a nice time with your friend today, not spend it dealing with all my bullshit."

Oh. Adora feels the anger draining from her face as this sinks in. Oh. So that's what all this was about.

"Besides," mutters Catra, "I don't need you to help me feel better. I can take care of myself."

"I know, but it doesn't mean you should have to," Adora says quietly, but without delay. Knocking shoulders with Catra, she adds, "And hey, it's not bullshit. It's okay for you to be upset. I was upset and it wasn't even about me."

Catra's tail flicks, but she doesn't reply. After a long pause, Adora ventures, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No," states Catra. When Adora rolls her eyes with a huff, she insists, "I don't! And this isn't even me shutting you out, I really don't wanna discuss it. I remembered something… something extremely unpleasant, and I don't wanna think about it."

Scoffing once more, Adora sasses her, "So you were up here by yourself, brooding, not thinking about it?"

That viciously accurate callout makes Catra scowl, turning her face away and hugging her knees tighter.

"Look," sighs Adora, "you don't have to talk about it with me if you don't want to. I just want you to know that you can."

Catra purses her lips, eyes falling shut with a sigh. "It's not something you can understand."

"I can still listen," Adora offers gently. "If you want." When Catra doesn't answer, she scratches the back of her neck with a frown. There's something that's been bothering her since before the incident in question. Something Entrapta said that prompted some uncomfortable inner questions.

"Hey," she begins hesitantly, "I'm sorry if I offended you earlier." Catra blinks over curiously and she grimaces. "When I said that thing about the kitty trap. I didn't mean it like that, but that doesn't mean it's okay. If it bothers you I won't call you that anymore."

"I didn't mind," says Catra, offering a small shrug. "I don't mind when it's you, when it's just us, as long as I'm not already upset about it or whatever. I know you're not making fun of me."

That brings a tiny smile to Adora's lips, one Catra can't return. Staring out over the kingdom, her eyes harden. "I am what I am," she says, clenching her clawed fingers in a fist. "Maybe I am a mongrel, but I'm not some wild beast." Tension rises in her throat and she swallows, hard. "I'm not an animal."

"I know," comes Adora's quiet voice.

Eyes squeezing shut against the oncoming sting, Catra insists, "I'm not."

"I know," Adora assures her, laying a hand on her shoulder. She doesn't hesitate, it doesn't even cross her mind. Catra in pain breaks her heart and her first, deepest, most basic instinct is to comfort and protect her. She only remembers Catra's request to ask first once it's too late, but thankfully she seems to have read her correctly this time, because she doesn't shrink away. Emboldened, Adora gives her shoulder a tiny squeeze. "Everyone who's important knows that."

"Sure," mutters Catra, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

Adora shakes her head decisively, reaching out to turn Catra's chin her way. "Hey, look at me."

The suddenly commanding yet soft tone of Adora's voice shocks Catra into compliance. When she meets Adora's eyes, she finds them earnest and reassuring, a calming smile on her lips.

"Listen," she says. "I love you for what you are. You can protect and comfort me in ways no one else can. You're strong, and brave, and amazing to watch in a fight. The way you move, it's incredible."

When Catra's eyes dart away again, Adora's smile grows wider. She brushes back a small lock of hair that's fallen free from Catra's mask, fingertips grazing her temple. "And you're beautiful."

That gets Catra to look at her, once again staring in shock. Adora is too enamored to be embarrassed, blushing only a little. She drags the side of her index finger down Catra's jaw, hungry eyes following right alongside. "Handsome as hell."

Catra, meanwhile, is blushing so hard she's screaming internally at herself to cut it out, play it cool. Why is Adora able to do this to her? She hates it. She loves it. She loves…

"You're such a dork," she scoffs.

Refusing to let her shirk the attention so easily, Adora persists with a knowing grin. "You're special, you know? Way more special than me."

Catra cocks an eyebrow. "More than She-Ra? Really?"

Grin softening into a smile, Adora meets her gaze head on. "You don't need magical powers to be incredible."

Adora's eyes drop ever so briefly to Catra's lips, but not briefly enough for her to miss it. Superior visual acuity and all. Her heart begins to pound as her own eyes follow suit, only they linger shamelessly. Not because Catra's feeling bold, but because she honestly can't help it.

Finally her eyes flick back to Adora's questioning ones and she whispers, "Neither do you."

Catra's the one who leans in first. She has to be, she's the one who asked for time and space. But as she drifts closer, Adora moves to meet her in the middle. The kiss is soft, lacking the desperation of that one in Bright Moon yet somehow retaining all the feeling. Adora's hands move on instinct, framing Catra's face as her lips brush Catra's chapped ones. The slight roughness is actually pleasant, grounding her in the moment when her head is threatening to float away. A breeze ruffles their hair and Catra sighs into the kiss, releasing her legs and letting them fall. Her hands move to Adora's cheeks, and Adora can't resist the temptation to deepen the kiss just a little by giving Catra's lip a tiny nibble and tug.

Some embarrassing noise between a hum and a moan escapes Catra's throat but she ignores it, chasing Adora's mouth and reuniting their lips with a soft caress of her jaw. Her eyes close briefly but she forces them back open just to see that look on Adora's face again, that look of trying so hard: eyes squeezed shut in concentration, all her focus on making Catra happy. Her brow isn't furrowed this time, though. She looks relaxed, and stunning.

Seriously, Adora thinks Catra's beautiful? Has she ever looked in the mirror? Her cheeks are just a little rosy, a wisp of blonde hair floating in the wind as her breathing picks up slightly. She's everything Catra's ever wanted.

Everything Catra's not ready for.

Reluctantly pulling back with a parting peck, Catra watches as Adora's eyes flutter open, dazed and exhilarated. Her mouth twitches sadly as her thumb brushes Adora's cheek. "This doesn't mean…" Catra frowns as she considers her words. "This is just a moment we're having. I'm not past everything yet."

Disappointment seeps into Adora's expression, but to her credit she hides it pretty quickly. Snorting quietly, she softly punches Catra's knee and says, "Obviously."

Catra's eyes narrow slightly but she can't help chuckling either. She can't certainly can't argue that.

"Sorry, that was rude," admits Adora, peeking at her sheepishly from under her eyelids.

"But accurate," concedes Catra.

Eyeing their dangling legs, Adora kicks her foot to the side a little, giving Catra's an affectionate nudge. "Take your time," she says. And she means it. "I'm not going anywhere."

Catra smiles, hair ruffling in the breeze, the softness in her expression contrasting with the tear trails on her cheeks and making Adora's chest ache.

"I believe you," she says. She leans in to give Adora one more kiss, a lingering one, before breaking contact in favor of laying her head on Adora's shoulder. Adora snakes an arm around her waist in reply, relishing the warmth and closeness after the cold, detached way Catra left the lab.

If only she could leech some of Catra's pain into her own body. She'd do it in a heartbeat, she would. She can't change the past, she knows that. But if she can change the future, make it just a little bit better for Catra, she wants to. And maybe this time, if they stick together, she can.

***o***

When they return to the lab, only Entrapta is there to greet them. 'Greet' being a strong word. Their host is intently focused on whatever it is she's studying on the screens, munching on a plate of tiny sandwiches, and doesn't notice them right away. It's only when Emily beeps and nudges her leg that she spins around.

Entrapta's face blanches at the sight of Catra. Despite the expression of dread, she hops off her chair and rushes over, gloved fingers wringing tightly. "Catra, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to- I didn't know…"

"It's okay, Entrapta," Catra interrupts. "I'm fine. Really."

Entrapta tilts her head, looking far from convinced. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Catra declares with a resolute nod.

"But I-" Entrapta cuts herself off with a quick look at Adora, apparently remembering her advice. Her eyes drop and she fidgets for a few seconds before peeking back up at Catra. "I hurt your feelings."

"Shadow Weaver hurt my feelings," Catra corrects her, dismissing this with a shrug. "And how were you supposed to know she was a speciesist idiot? If I'd told you, maybe you would've clued in, but I didn't." She directs a sheepish smirk down at Entrapta. "Can't really blame that on you, now can I?"

That last sentence worms its way into Adora's chest, melting her heart as she watches the exchange. She can feel the dopey smile spreading across her face, and she doesn't even care. She is so in love with this girl.

"Heh," scoffs Entrapta, sporting a sheepish smirk of her own. "I guess not."

Noticing the unrelenting wringing of her fingers, the way she's awkwardly shifting her weight, Catra raises an eyebrow. "Do you want a hug?"

Entrapta nods quickly and steps in, throwing her arms around Catra's ribcage and squeezing tight. Catra chuckles, returning the deep pressure that she knows Entrapta likes.

Adora's eyebrows arch. Since when does Entrapta give hugs with her body? Like, Adora's seen her get affectionate with Scorpia, but she's her girlfriend, she doesn't count.

It takes a moment, but Entrapta's body relaxes in Catra's grip. Lifting her head, she slides her arms back to grasp Catra's forearms. "You guys are probably hungry. The others are in the dining hall getting lunch, if you want to join."

"Thanks, will do," says Catra, giving her a smile and firm shoulder pat. Turning for the door, she nods at Adora to follow.

Falling into step beside Catra, Adora murmurs, "I didn't think she liked hugs."

"Depends on the person, I think," Catra muses with a shrug. She's long stopped trying to understand Entrapta's peculiarities. Or the reasons behind them, anyway. All she needs to know is how to predict and react to them, how best to respect her boundaries.

"Right," mutters Adora, frowning at her feet, "of course."

The sullen body language makes Catra's eyebrows arch. Though her eyes roll, her smile is affectionate as she nudges Adora's ribs. "I'm the same way," she reminds her. "Don't take it per-"

She's cut off by an alarm blaring behind them. They both whip around to see the early detection sensor map usurping Entrapta's screen. Most of the dots are green, signaling an online and idle status, but one in the Whispering Woods is flashing red.

Entrapta cackles with delight. "Hah, it worked!" Whipping out her recorder, she narrates, "Dryl, day 4: Early detection network confirmed functional! We can officially declare this experiment a success!"

Catra winces at the shrillness and volume of her voice. She's still a bit sensitive to sound after that pesky concussion, and the alarm itself is bad enough. Her naturally sensitive ears can pick up additional sirens out in the hallways, boxing her in on all sides with noise. Within seconds, a bunch of hurried hoof and boot steps join the cacophony, crescendoing as they approach.

Swift Wind bursts into the room, Bow hot on his tail and Scorpia a few paces behind. He skids to a stop in front of Adora, eyes wide and tail erect in panic. "What is that?"

Turning to them with a tight smile, Catra says, "That would be the Horde."

A/N: If anyone has ever fainted from shock/horror and flashed through memories and woken back up an impossibility short time later, well… you know it's an experience. I can only hope I got across how disconcerting it is to the rest of you.