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“I walk into the fire always, and come out more alive.”
— Anaïs Nin
“And what does one give up, in order to be a hero?”
— Jennifer S. Cheng
Present
The cave is quiet, aside from the occasional snore, and the motion of Swift Wind's feathers as he shifts in his sleep. It's late and everyone's exhausted, likely wanting to save their energy for tomorrow. Catra included, but she seems to be the only one who can't sleep, save for Shadow Weaver and Adora. For years, Catra has speculated that Shadow Weaver has never needed sleep, and she's yet to be proven wrong. As for Adora, she's nowhere within eyesight, too busy avoiding Catra to even feign sleep in one of the sleeping bags Bow had set up for her. There's an empty one next to it, designated for Catra, but she hasn't touched it yet.
It's endearing that despite the night's events, Bow still thought they could all sleep near each other, comfortable and safe. Even if Adora wasn't avoiding Catra, if she were lying right next to her, close enough that they might as well be sharing the same sleeping bag, the same breath, Catra doesn't think she could sleep. The failsafe is a big contributor to that. It's wedged over her chest, a part of her now, like a parasite. She can feel it even when it doesn’t glow. It doesn’t burn her skin, but it’s unnaturally warm, and it’s heavy, like she clawed her own heart out and is wearing it on display. What’s left of it, anyway.
Melog stirs next to her. They fall asleep easily, a trait which would make Catra jealous, but she's found that they wake up just as easily, if a single negative emotion makes itself known, which happens often. Poor space cat.
"Go back to sleep," she tells Melog, and they shrink in size, curling up next to her leg. Instead of sleeping, Melog shifts to face the entrance of the cave, where Adora is now standing, looking at Catra expectantly, as if Catra was supposed to know to meet her there, as if she's in trouble for being late.
Catra could retaliate, give Adora a taste of her own medicine by ignoring her, pointedly going to sleep. But Adora knows Catra won't refuse her, not after today. So Catra jumps down quietly, not wanting to wake up Glimmer and Bow, who have inched closer to each other.
"What do you want?" Catra whispers, once she's reached Adora.
"Can we talk?"
Catra could laugh. It's been hours since Adora uttered a single word to her, and she doesn't have faith that this conversation will do either of them any good. "Now you want to talk?"
Adora puts a hand on her hip and finds a sudden interest in staring at her boots. "I've had some time to think." Her voice is quiet, strained, like she's embarrassed, maybe even ashamed.
"Great," Catra drawls. She crosses her arms and waits for Adora to make the next move.
Adora scans the cave before meeting Catra's eyes again. "Can we take this outside?"
Dramatic as ever, but Catra's too tired to say it out loud. "Sure, Adora."
They walk in silence, side by side but not touching, Catra notices the lack of it.
The Whispering Woods are quieter than usual, like every living thing has fled, knowing what's to come. All Catra knows is that her own heartbeat feels too loud. The failsafe's slight hum doesn't help.
"So," Catra begins, once Adora stops near a tree that she deems worthy enough to overhear their conversation. "What did you want to talk about?" She plays innocent, knowing it's an instant trick to get Adora riled up. Adora narrows her brow and clenches her fists, meaning it worked.
"Why did you do it?" It’s not the first time she’s asked Catra that question, but if things don't go too well tomorrow, it might be the last.
“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Catra replies.
“The failsafe was only meant for She-Ra,” Adora says icily. “If one of us had to take it, it was supposed to be her—to be me. Not you.”
Catra shrugs. "It didn't seem like you were in exactly the best headspace to acquire some horrible, magical, First Ones' tech earlier. So I took it for you. You don't have to worry about it anymore."
Adora exhales sharply. “I would have been in the right headspace if you just gave me a little more time. You heard what Shadow Weaver said—I needed to process it all. But I would have taken it, Catra. You know that.”
Catra does know that—she was able to envision Adora walking into the failsafe's chamber and electrocuting herself gladly. But Catra wasn't going to watch it happen, not when she's strong enough to stop it. She jabs her finger in Adora's face. "There wasn't any time. We were being ambushed and you couldn't stop crying, so I took it. You can thank me when I save Etheria.”
Adora gapes. "Is that what this is about? Saving Etheria? Doing the right thing? Do you think you have to do this to make up for everything you've done when we were enemies? Because you don't, Catra. I would never ask that of you, you've already proved yourself."
Typical Adora, assuming Catra's concerned about doing what's right. It couldn't be the furthest thing from the truth. Catra takes a step back, avoiding Adora's gaze. "That's not what this is about."
“Then why?” Adora’s voice is softer now, her eyes wide and worried, as if what she says next would have the power to change what happened. “Catra,” she says. "I want you here with me. I need you here with me."
Catra can't say, Me too, or, You're an idiot for thinking I'm doing this for any reason but you, or It's not just the world that would fall apart if something happened to you. So Catra bites her tongue. Even if she were to say any of those things, Adora wouldn't understand, and even if she would, Catra's not sure she could bear the heartbreak of what could come after, not when it might be too late.
“I would have jumped into fire, too, you know,” Adora ends up saying. “For you, I mean.”
“I know,” Catra replies, not meeting her eyes. She doesn't doubt it. Adora went back to Prime's ship for her and faced him by herself, unaware that she had She-Ra's power. Saving Adora from a hundred magical fires would never be enough to make up for it. Taking the failsafe barely counts.
“Do you?” Adora asks. “Because it kind of seems like you don’t listen to me.”
Catra laughs at that, but the bitter sound doesn't stop Adora from inching closer to her now. As she does so, the failsafe flickers brightly, beating in time with her heart. There's a small part of Catra who worries that the failsafe could leap from her chest to Adora's, that She-Ra's power would be strong enough to unravel everything that Catra has done for her. Adora, that is. Not She-Ra, and certainly not for all of Etheria.
Six hours ago
Catra got lucky with the fire. She’s not sure the way magic works on Etheria, how this trap isn’t all fire and isn’t all fake, but it’s warm. Her skin prickles at the thought of Adora getting burned, the thought of herself burning in the process of saving her. Catra thought the flames were real, but she didn't hesitate, she jumped without giving it a second thought. She's smarter than that, or rather, she would have been smarter than that if anyone stepped into the flames who wasn't Adora.
But as Shadow Weaver speaks—and Adora listens—Catra can tell her luck ran out, not that she ever had much luck to begin with. Adora is frozen in place, paralyzed, because it’s dawned on her what Shadow Weaver wants her to do. Adora has always tried so hard to be brave, she had to, to survive the Fright Zone. To become She-Ra. To face Horde Prime alone.
But heroes can only do so much on their own. Adora steps away from Shadow Weaver, cradles her arms. “Take the failsafe?” she asks. “But—but I can’t.”
Adora, it seems, has finally acquired some sense of self-preservation, but it’s splintered, unstable. It can’t hold against Shadow Weaver’s demands.
“You don’t have a choice,” Shadow Weaver says. “Not if you want to save Etheria.”
“You have no right to tell her that!” Catra yells. She meets Glimmer’s eyes and recognizes the anger in them, it seeps through to Bow too.
“We can’t let Adora take that risk!” Bow says.
"There has to be another way!" Glimmer insists.
Shadow Weaver might be outnumbered, but it doesn't make a difference, because Adora is still weighing the options. Adora, beautiful, stubborn, stupidly heroic Adora, will die for the chance to save Etheria.
“No, she’s right,” Adora says, and her voice wavers. “It has to be me.” Adora cries, and wipes away at her tears with her sleeve. That's when her knees give out, and she falls, shaking on the ground.
Glimmer teleports to her side, and Catra gives Shadow Weaver her best glare. Adora thinks she has to die to save Etheria, but she doesn't. Catra was prepared to die when she rescued Glimmer and warned Adora not to come back, sparing Adora from Prime's wrath. Even now, she's ready to accept that fate. Catra's never seen Adora this scared before, and she'd give anything for Adora to never have to be afraid again.
"I'll do it," Catra says, before she can take it back. Her voice cracks, but she continues. That’s all she’s ever done, persist, survive. It's brought her to this point. "I'll take the failsafe."
"Catra, you can't!" Adora says. She struggles to stand, so Glimmer helps her up, lets her lean against her. "I have to be the one to do this."
“I’m stronger than anyone has ever given me credit for,” Catra tells her. "Including you, Adora. If this will help, if this will work so Prime can't touch the heart, I'll do it."
“But we don’t know that taking the failsafe will work, even for She-Ra.”
“So you get to sacrifice yourself, and I can’t?”
“Yes,” says Adora. “That’s how it's supposed to happen.”
“You don’t always get to play the hero, Adora.”
“Oh, so you’re saying it’s your turn?”
“No,” Catra says. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. Unlike you, I don't care about being the hero.” She turns to face Shadow Weaver. “You don’t really want Adora to take the failsafe and die, do you? It was me you always wanted to get rid of.”
“You do not possess the strength to carry it,” Shadow Weaver says to her. "Let alone the magic."
“But you won’t deny that you would let her die so you can get your hands on the magic? Wouldn't you rather it be me instead?”
Shadow Weaver's expression is impossible for Catra to read. “Adora can take it, you can’t.” It's a similar sentiment she's heard all her life, Adora being stronger, better, smarter.
“You’ve never believed in me. None of you.”
“Catra—” Adora starts, but she falters. Her brows are puzzled, her eyes still wet. “I can’t let you do this.”
“You can’t stop me,” Catra tells her. “You’ve lost control of She-Ra, and she was the only thing in this room that ever came close to defeating me.”
There's a silent protest from Glimmer, Catra suspects, but she doesn't voice it.
Adora begs now. “Please, don’t do this.”
If Catra could, she would take Adora's hand and leave Mystacor, leave Etheria for good, and find somewhere Prime hasn't touched. But Adora loves the world, and she won't leave it. “Etheria can’t lose She-Ra if this goes wrong. Not with Horde Prime around. But me… Etheria doesn’t need me. None of you need me.”
Adora's standing on her own two feet now, but tears are still streaking her face. Before Adora has time to part her mouth again, they're interrupted.
Even Catra miscalculated. She wasn't careful enough, none of them were careful enough. They've been found by Micah and the other sorcerers of Mystacor. Adora's in no state to fight, in no state to summon She-Ra. So Catra does what she does best: she plays dirty. She manages to distract Adora, and it works. When Adora's not looking, Catra bolts for the failsafe.
As she takes it, it burns, electric, blue instead of red, bringing back memories of her childhood. Somehow, Catra endures it.
Weighed down by the failsafe, she takes in her surroundings. The sorcerers of Mystacor have been defeated for now, but it won't last long, they need to leave Mystacor before reinforcements arrive. "Let's go," she rasps.
Catra tries to help Adora off the ground, but Adora won't meet her eyes.
Present
Catra stares at Adora warily, she doesn't want to spend this night fighting with Adora, she doesn't have the energy for it anymore. She wonders if the failsafe has drained her more than she thought. "Look, I'm not sorry I took it. I wasn't going to let Shadow Weaver use you again. And it's done." She motions to her chest. "I have the failsafe. Tomorrow I'll go down to the heart, and I'll finish it, but you have to trust me."
"Of course I trust you," Adora says, almost sounding surprised by the implication that Catra thought otherwise. Adora's gaze remains steady, serious, getting back on track. She's always been good at that. "Tomorrow we go to the heart, the two of us." Catra nods slowly, before Adora offers her a small smile. "I'm not letting you go there alone. I promise."
"Okay."
"Now it's your turn to promise me."
Catra tilts her head. "Promise you what?"
Adora's initial anger from before has faded, only to be replaced with worry. "Promise me that we'll go to the heart together, and we'll leave the heart together."
"Fine, I promise."
Adora's eyes lighten up a little, but Catra can't stop her ears from drooping. It's not a promise she can keep. Catra doesn't plan on coming back.