Chapter Text
Adora could vividly remember the last time she heard anything; it was Catra’s voice calling out to her in a blaze of background noise and through a haze of pain.
She and Catra had been racing through the corridors of the Fright Zone, building up speed and Catra had taken a running jump into the pipes that hung from the ceiling. Adora, competitive and refusing to give up, had attempted to follow her but found herself falling short of the pipe to crash into the metal floor with a frightfully loud noise. This had attracted the attention of Shadow Weaver, who had glided around the corner and focused a penetrating glare on the two girls. Adora was crouched on the floor, small scratches showing on her limbs from her fall, and Catra was leaning over her to help her up. In a fraction of a moment, Shadow Weaver had grasped Catra’s arm tightly, pulling her towards her certain punishment.
Shadow Weaver had closed the door to the Black Garnet chamber, shielding Catra’s fearful heterochromic eyes from her view. The slightest wobble of Catra’s lips had echoed in Adora’s mind as she pounded on the door; her pre-pubescent fists making little to no impact on the heavy metal barrier. She’d glanced around and saw a metal pole, as long as her forearm that she levered into the narrow gap in the frame. Using her body weight, she’d managed to open the door a crack, letting Catra’s shrill scream permeate through the air.
Rushing through the gap, new scratches joining her existing ones, she breached the chamber in a frenzy of wild blue eyes and unkempt blonde hair. She saw Shadow Weaver holding Catra aloft with tendrils of black electric energy and her vision turned dark red. She threw herself at the sorceress, grasping her hands around the scarlet clad forearm as tightly as she could.
“Let her go!” she screamed, pulling with all her might but she made no difference. Shadow Weaver looked over her shoulder; her right arm still raised and controlling the mystical energies, her left held by Adora in impotent rage. Her mask revealed no expression but Adora could see the disapproval raining down on her and almost relinquished her grip with the shame of it.
“Adora,” Shadow Weaver purred, unconcerned with Catra’s moans of pain, “let go. This worthless animal needs to be punished.”
If anything, Adora held more firmly, managing to turn the sorceress’ shoulders slightly with her strength.
“No! You’re hurting her!” Adora’s world was wholly made up of Catra at that moment; all she could see was Catra’s streaming eyes, all she could hear was Catra’s shrill scream. Because she was fully focused on her feline friend, she noticed exactly when Shadow Weaver dropped Catra from her electric grip because she plummeted to the ground in a heap of limbs.
But she missed that the sorceress was moving to a new target: her. In the same instant, she focused her energies on Adora in rage, making her soar across the room with speed.
Her feet left the floor and she was flying through the air without pause. Her breath was rushed from her lungs by an impact in her chest and she could feel the wind whipping through her hair, strands having fallen loose from her earlier game of chase with Catra.
Before she hit the wall, her head impacting a beam with a loud thud, she heard Catra’s voice ringing out, cracking in the middle.
“Adora!”
--
She woke from sleep to a shaking of her arm. Opening her eyes, she saw that Catra was inches from her face, her blue and hazel eyes sparkling with mischief as she revealed her sharp canines in a wicked grin.
Situation normal then.
Her wild mane of hair was untamed and her ears were twitching in excitement. Although it had been many years since she had heard her voice, Adora could imagine her rolling tone and teasing lilt, rounded by age.
“Time for training,” she saw Catra say, her mouth moving but no sound accompanying it. Adora hadn’t heard anything since that day she had hit her head years ago. Shadow Weaver had examined her and determined that she had injured part of her brain, leading to a life of total silence. Try as she might, and she did try hard, the sorceress couldn’t find a way to reverse the damage.
Over time, her constant experiments to restore Adora’s hearing had tapered off, as had her interest in Adora’s training. As difficult as it was to adapt to no longer being useful, Adora found herself enjoying her life outside of Shadow Weaver’s steely gaze. It was helped that Catra seemed to be the only support she would get and she clung desperately to her, making it impossible for Shadow Weaver to single out the brunette. Without the cloud of Shadow Weaver hovering over them both, insidiously tainting their relationship with threats of punishment and resentment, they had flourished.
Over the last few years, things had changed dramatically for Adora; she’d had to learn how to function without her hearing and had to adapt her whole life. Alarms were useless to her, teammates calling out went unheard and she didn’t hear any voices or sounds. If it weren’t for Catra, she would have probably not survived this long and Adora knew it.
So did Catra.
Catra was her alarm in the morning, rousing her for training, and her warning during simulations. They’d devised a system of hand signals and gestures to use, completing their simulation runs in complete silence. It was only with Catra that Adora attempted to talk anymore; she’d resorted to signaling at all times with others and Catra was the only one who heard Adora’s vocalisations, smiling broadly with every attempt. Her voice wasn't bad, often just pitched at the wrong volume. Catra was her rock and support, giving her a shoulder to lean on and a warm purr when she felt useless.
The hardest thing to adapt to wasn’t the lack of sound, nor the heady disappointment that radiated from Shadow Weaver constantly, it was the feeling of uselessness. She’d tried so hard growing up to be independent and responsible, taking accountability for Catra and her squad as easily as breathing, that she had been lost and adrift when she had first woken without the ability to hear.
She’d cried so much, fearing that Catra would leave her now that she couldn’t support her but she found that her relationship had improved a little. Catra had become her support, instead of her trying to have it the other way around, and Catra seemed to enjoy the responsibility. She had thrived, appearing more content than before and happier. This development, and the lack of Shadow Weaver’s cruel oversight, had led to love.
Their relationship had evolved beyond friendship one night, curled up on Adora’s bunk with their foreheads touching in the dark. Their world was each other, nothing else existed, let alone mattered and Catra was purring so deeply that Adora could almost hear it. She could certainly feel it, reverberating through her chest and soul, comforting and warm.
Catra’s clawed hands had traced up from her waist and landed on Adora’s nape, gentle nails tracing the large scar at the base of her hairline; an outside reminder of her head trauma. She had looked up to see Catra’s unique eyes heavy and soft gazing at her and she couldn’t resist. She’d reached up and held Catra’s face in her hands, her fur warm and soft. She’d pulled her closer and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips.
Although Adora couldn’t hear anything, she felt Catra’s breathing start and hitch before she pushed forwards, continuing their kiss with a smile. They’d not spoken about labels and titles, knowing that they were everything to one another: friend, lover, partner. Equal.
With a groan she couldn’t hear, Adora levered herself upright, Catra grabbing her hand and helping her along against gravity. She looked around the rest of the barracks, noting that Lonnie and Rogelio were already missing with their bunks made neatly but Kyle was sprawled out, mouth wide open and chest heaving indicating he was snoring loudly. Although she would never be as stealthy as Catra, she had mastered the art of being as outwardly silent as her inner world was, and crept passed Kyle on soundless feet. Catra’s hand remained in Adora’s, leading her towards the exit with her mischievous smile in place and a wicked glint in her beautiful eyes.
They readied themselves for the day, showering and dressing with economical movement and presented themselves for the start of their simulation session, arms behind their backs, eyes forwards and smiles broad. Lonnie and Rogelio were also present, sparing small glances at the two girls whilst a clock before them counted down to the start of the simulation.
Their instructor was standing before them, meeting their parade rests with an overbearing scowl and pointed glances at the clock. At ten minutes past, Kyle rushed in to the room, pulling on his red and white shirt with his boots unlaced.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he garbled, knowing that the other cadets were laughing at him despite the lack of noise in the room.
“Late! Cadet, you should be on time! Even Adora arrived before you, and she can’t even hear the alarm!” their instructor barked, making Kyle’s pale blond head wilt and Catra give him a scathing glare, that he thankfully didn’t notice.
Adora looked towards Catra, not knowing why she was suddenly glaring but received a “don’t worry about it” hand wave in response. The gruff instructor began to explain the simulation: they were in the Whispering Woods and battling the evil princesses, it would be a group assessment, try not to die.
Situation normal then.
A quick set of hand signals passed between Catra and Adora, discussing in their own unique way their battleplan. Catra relayed the plan to Lonnie, Rogelio and an ashen Kyle, who all nodded in agreement. Being in a squad with Adora for so long, they had all picked up the basics of Adora’s hand signals, Rogelio embracing them himself with his reluctance to speak, but none held the fluency that Catra did.
The buzzer sounded and their eyewear activated with holograms displayed over the top of wrought metal beams and robots. As one, the squad leapt into action, Catra jumping into the beams doubling as trees and the other four grouping together on the ground. Using their stun batons, they circled the first robot masquerading as a princess and managed to render it out of commission as it took a swing at Kyle. Kyle stumbled backwards, half scrabbling, half being pulled by Rogelio with a reptilian snarl and Lonnie and Adora flicked their batons to recharge them.
Lonnie quickly looked to the ceiling, alerting Adora to a change in situation and then gestured to indicate an incoming hostile. Adora turned just in time to have her baton shot from her hands by a laser and dropped back as Lonnie charged forwards. Backflipping, she reached behind her for her staff, carried collapsed in her belt loop and lengthened it. She jumped back into the fray; Lonnie having been joined by Rogelio. Kyle was sat with his back to the wall, a large cross on his chest plate indicating he’d been eliminated. When had that happened?
Adora thrust her staff into the control panel of the robot, doubling as the princess’ face and it collapsed with a dramatic whine. She blew an errant hair from her face, having come loose from her ponytail and looked around, doing a sitrep.
Kyle: in the corner, eliminated.
Rogelio: skulking towards her, still in.
Lonnie: running a hand through her dreadlocks, still in but not noticing the robot approaching behind her.
Adora opened her mouth and made a sound, alerting Lonnie to her. She gestured to the robot behind her but Lonnie wasn’t fast enough as she was eliminated by a shot to her back. Rogelio was quickly taken out as well, leaving Adora and Catra, who was nowhere to be seen.
Squaring her shoulders, she dodged the first two shots from the robot and parried against one of its legs. Using the momentum of the impact, she leapt onto its main body and attempted to slam her staff into its control panel. Unlike the previous robot, it was more durable and resistant and so, her staff bounced harmlessly off. Thrown off balance, she wobbled dangerously and almost fell from the spherical body of the robot but she was caught around the wrist by a familiar clawed hand.
Although she couldn’t hear it, she was sure Catra just purred her name but she focused on getting her balance back. Catra used her claws to pry open the control panel and this time, the wires cracked satisfactorily under her staff. With a low hum that vibrated through her bones, the robot collapsed and sent the two remaining cadets crashing to the floor. Catra landed on her feet, perfect balance acting in her favour.
Adora slammed into the tiles, harshly landing on her arm and, to add insult to injury, the tile turned red and she started to fall through the floor. She stopped her fall with her extended staff, hanging limply from one arm and stared up at the ceiling lamps. A frustrated groan left her throat, although she couldn’t hear it, when Catra’s smirking face peered over the edge.
“Need a hand?”
--
It was brown ration day. Catra hated brown ration day; grey ration day wasn’t that much better but it was palatable compared to the impossibly inedible brown rations. She glanced over to Adora who had a frown on her face as well. Both of them hated brown ration day. It was the icing on top of a particularly irksome day. It had started well: cuddled in bed with Adora, pranking Kyle and destroying robots, but the instructors felt their performance wasn’t good enough and they were sent to run laps and more simulations, missing lunch.
It was dinner now and Catra was starving, only to be let down by brown ration day.
Sending a meaningful look to Adora, she peeled away from the line, heading to the exit. Adora frowned (adorably) but followed her, abandoning her rations as well. As soon as they were through the door, Catra turned to Adora, enunciating her words clearly.
“Wanna sneak out some grey ones?” Adora smiled, her white teeth and blue eyes dazzling as she nodded, making a small sound of agreement. Often, Catra truly missed Adora’s voice and her laugh but it made her infrequent sounds and speech more valuable.
Creeping around the corner on silent feet, the pair made their way to the back store rooms, hiding quickly when a Force Captain walked down the corridor. Sharing a breathy smile, they successfully entered the store room, giggling manically and sharing a look of accomplishment. Dropping a quick kiss on Adora’s lips, and enjoying the dumbfounded look on her face, Catra turned to the wooden boxes to try and find some grey ration bars.
Halfway through her search, she felt Adora pull on her sleeve gently. Looking up, she could see the blonde standing next to her, a wicked cheeky grin on her face.
And the keys to a skiff in her hands.
Catra’s eyes glittered with poorly contained excitement and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
Adora deserved another kiss for this idea.
--
This was such a bad idea. They crashed through the underbrush of the Whispering Woods, having lost control over the skiff at the edge of the Fright Zone and just hanging on for the ride. Catra had one hand curled around the lever, claws digging into the metal, the other had been sacrificed to Adora’s death grip. Her blue eyes were round with fear as she vocalised with displeasure.
“Catra!” she shouted, her voice sounding slightly muffled as it always did, and Catra turned the skiff sharply left to avoid a tree that had come out of nowhere.
Unfortunately, she ended up catching a low hanging vine and it knocked Adora from the skiff.
All Catra could see was a young Adora, flying through the air from a burst of dark electricity, superimposed over Adora falling through the foliage, a wordless scream echoing from her throat and terror in her eyes.
“Adora!” she reached her hand fruitlessly towards the blonde, knowing she wouldn’t catch her but trying all the same. The skiff was too far away by this point, still careening through the trees and Catra saw a large tree ahead of her. She was going to crash.
Electing to jump and at least try to control her fall, she leapt from the skiff, hearing it crash and explode behind her as she scrabbled for a branch or a vine to hold on to. Scratching her claws against the bark of a tree, she managed to slow her fall enough (at the expense of splinters under her nails) to hit the ground with a roll. Quickly standing, leaves making a home in her messy mane of hair, she began to run back in the direction she came from. Her ears were pricked, intently listening for Adora and she thought she heard voices at one point but it wasn’t Adora.
Crashing through the brush, following the trail of broken branches and flattened foliage, she reached a clearing with grass and moss on the ground and streams of light filtering through, dappling the earth with light. Near the edge of the clearing, she saw the collapsed form of Adora, laid on her side with her hair loose from its ponytail and eyes closed.
“Please don’t be brain damaged,” she whispered, cradling Adora’s head and shoulders in her arms as she tapped lightly on her cheek. With a frown and a groan, Adora’s bright blue eyes opened and she looked into Catra’s worried ones.
“C’tra?” she mumbled, her words sounding more out of focus than usual but Catra smiled.
“It’s me, dummy,” she said, hugging her close and giving Adora a quick once over to check for injuries. She couldn’t see anything obvious but now that her heart wasn’t as loud as it was before, she could hear the other noises of the woods more clearly.
Including the voices she thought she had heard earlier.
“I’m telling you Bow, it’s around here!” a young female voice claimed.
“My tracker pad isn’t working. I don’t think we’re going the right way,” a male voice responded.
“I know these woods like the back of my hand,” a confident tone entered the female’s voice, “we’re definitely going the right way.”
Catra’s head turned to the left of where she was kneeling, looking in the direction of the voices and Adora, noticing Catra’s change in demeanour, began to sit up on her own.
“What’s going on?” she signalled and Catra put her finger to her lips. A warning to be quiet.
Through the undergrowth, two people joined them in the clearing. The first was a short girl with purple hair and caramel skin and she was accompanied by a tall boy with dark eyes and a crop top?
Catra’s brain malfunctioned. What was he wearing?
As soon as they entered the clearing properly, the two newcomers stopped short at the sight of the two girls kneeling on the ground. There was a tense pause where neither pair spoke a word, then the purple haired girl noticed the Horde insignia on their clothes.
“Horde scum!” she shouted and threw a pink glittery ball at them. Both Adora and Catra scrambled backwards, caught off balance and in a vulnerable position. The newcomers must be from the Rebellion, with the purple haired one possibly being a princess to boot. They backed themselves away as the boy readied a bow and arrow and the girl threw another sparkle ball. Adora and Catra ended up separated, Adora leaping right and Catra left. Adora continued to dodge the sparkles thrown at her whilst Catra set her claws to work shredding a net arrow that approached her.
“Rebellion, huh?” Catra purred, gaining the attention of both the girl and the boy. Adora stayed silent, as she usually did. “What can we do for you today?”
“Don’t play dumb, Horde scum!” the girl growled, an impressive noise leaving her tiny body. “You’re here to steal the First One’s relic, aren’t you?”
What? What was a First One? What relic?
As Catra paused to think these questions, she was caught off guard by another net arrow that pinned her to a tree trunk and knocked the breath from her lungs. Adora, on seeing this, let out a wordless noise of rage and scanned the clearing for a weapon, anything, that she could use.
And in the corner, almost hidden behind a cluster of vines and moss, was a sword; old and rusted but with an edge that could possibly free Catra. Adora rushed towards it, confusing the two Rebellion members as she ran away from Catra but they noticed her intent quickly. The boy started to chase behind her as the girl disappeared in a constellation of sparkles only to reappear just behind Adora.
Catra watched helplessly, bound to a trunk, as the girl yanked on Adora’s hair to stop her, her hand mere inches from Adora’s scar. Catra saw red at that; Adora was sensitive about her scar and didn’t allow anyone to touch it. Well, no one but her.
As she struggled more against her binds, she watched as Adora flipped the girl over her shoulder, slamming her to the floor and continuing on to the sword in the same motion. She and the girl tussled a few more times, reaching forever closer to the sword buried in the ground when the ground began to shake and tremble.
Adora looked back to Catra, pausing midstride as she hoped for some insight from the feline but Catra was just as clueless. The two Rebellion members seemed uncertain as well, looking at each other in trepidation.
Through the trees crashed a large body. It was easily taller than those gathered in the clearing, stretching towards the treeline and its multiple eyes stared at the foursome. Its eight legs menaced forwards and its pincers clicked dangerously. It was a giant spider and it was on the hunt.
Unfortunately for Catra, she was already pinned in a web.
The beast stampeded towards the trio on the other side of the clearing, avoiding Catra in favour of the larger meal in front of it. The boy fired off more arrows, hitting the spider in the eyes as the girl distracted it with sparkles. Adora glanced between the sword and Catra, unsure what to do and they locked eyes, Catra mouthing at her to get the weapon. She nodded and rushed towards the sword, pulling it from the ground in one smooth movement. Her eyes seemed to unfocus for a moment, before flickering back to their usual intensity. She looked over her shoulder as though hearing something, but that was impossible.
From across the clearing, Catra thought Adora’s eyes looked more blue than usual.
The blonde, carrying the rusted blade, ran towards Catra, avoiding the two Rebellion members who were still fighting the spider. The beast was roaring loudly, making three of the four people flinch violently and it knocked the battling pair backwards with a swipe of its foreleg. Catra watched in helpless fury as the spider rushed behind Adora, sweeping her up into the air and letting her slam into the ground with force. Adora let out a gasp of air and her grasp on the sword loosened slightly.
“Adora!” Catra screamed and realised that she’d made an error because the spider noticed her, noticed her bound and still state, and crawled towards her. Adora had propped herself up on all fours, shaking her head and her blonde hair flying around her. She glanced up to see where the beast had gone and saw it scuttering towards a bound Catra. Her ears, usually silent, were filled with a staticky white noise and the whisper that she thought she’d heard earlier began to tune in loudly.
“Will you fight for the Honour of Grayskull?” an ethereal voice echoed in her head and she looked around to find its source. She couldn’t remove her eyes from Catra though, as the beast rapidly approached her and her rock, her everything got a twinkle of fear in her eyes. She felt a rush of righteous fury and answered in her mind.
“For the Honour of Grayskull,” and the clearing was filled with blinding white light. There was a ring of metal on metal and the roar of a beast before the light died down to a manageable level. When the others could see clearly again, the two Rebellion members were shielding each other, the boy curled around the girl’s head and Catra was still bound to the tree but Adora had moved.
She was standing in front of the spider, now collapsed on the ground, motionless and no longer a threat to anyone. Catra’s eyes gaped wide as she saw Adora further: she had grown two feet and her hair was longer and blonder. Her eyes were radiant blue and she was dressed in a white outfit with gold inlay and a tiara.
A tiara.
“Adora?” she tentatively whispered, knowing that the blonde wouldn’t hear her as she was looking at the ground but, to her eternal surprise, Adora’s head snapped up and she locked eyes with Catra.
“Wha-?” she began, her voice articulating clearly for the first time in years and she looked shocked to hear her own voice, her hand flying to her lips.
--
Adora could vividly remember the last time she heard anything; it was Catra’s voice calling out to her in a blaze of background noise and through a haze of pain.
She could also remember the next time she heard anything; a tentative whisper of her name from the woman she loved.
It was always Catra.