Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Half-lidded eyes wrenched open to the sound of muffled crying. A▋▋▋▋ peeled back the thin sheet he had nestled in, then rose - on the balls of his feet as practiced. Two cautious steps towards the door intensified the volume of the sniffling. Three, four, five steps, and he was at the door. As he turned the knob, the crying paused, yet he persisted. He pulled the door open, making sure to lift up as he did so to minimize the squeal of the hinges, then braved the hallway. The black of the hall was coated in thin, silvery moonlight, a solitary gleam that revealed a younger child curled in the corner. A▋▋▋▋ took a few exploratory steps towards the unquestionably scared child.

"Hey... you okay?" he asked, taking another step closer and chancing a reassuring touch on the shoulder.

Faster than his eyes could comprehend, a flash of movement triggered thin, carmine lines on the back of A▋▋▋▋'s arm. He jolted backwards and winced, but just as quickly re-extended his hand and offered another, softer reassurance.

"It's gonna be okay, I promise. I won't hurt you."

His hand, thankfully, went unassailed. With his arm safely contacting the magicat, A▋▋▋▋ calmly lowered himself to the floor, crossing his legs in silence.

The two remained adjacent in unspoken solidarity until the light of dawn lapped at their stiff necks. Only then did the young boy turn to A▋▋▋▋ and speak.

"I'm C▋▋▋▋, I'm six now!" came from the surprisingly cheery cat, whose mismatched eyes had only just now registered with A▋▋▋▋.

"I'm seven, but we can still be friends. My name's A▋▋▋▋!" he chimed, smiling wider than he had in recent memory.

C▋▋▋▋ smiled back, and from then the two became inseparable.

The odious shadow oozes down the hall, approaching her lair with the grace of an assassin. The moment the door closes, C▋▋▋▋ slips out from underneath the end table. He drags his reluctantly socked feet, not trusting his claws to avoid scraping the floor. Creeping to the kitchen, he quietly opens the pantry door and grabs a box of saltine crackers before scampering back to his bed - taking extra care to ensure Mrs. Weaver is pre-occupied prior to opening the door, of course. As he inspects his spoils, a blonde mop pokes out from the top bunk. C▋▋▋▋ gives a thumbs up. 

A▋▋▋▋ takes a seat beside the magicat, eyes wide with a terror that is quickly assuaged by the crackers placed in his hands. In a hushed voice, he protests meekly, "You're going to get in trouble."

C▋▋▋▋ snickers, adding "If I get caught."

Concern doesn't leave the human's eyes, but his voice ceases wavering. "Thanks, Cat."

A chill rolls over the magicat at the nickname. He half-consciously raises a brow, tilting his head.

"Oh, cuz... cuz you're sneaky and light on your feet, like a panther!" A▋▋▋▋ says slightly too loudly, prompting a hush from his friend.

C▋▋▋▋ ponders it for a few minutes in a comfortable near-silence as the two of them munch on stale crackers. An unfamiliar pride washes over him at the thought of being compared to a panther - the coolest animal ever, he'll have you know - but something scares him about it. Something nameless, faceless. 

"I like it," he finally decides, tamping down the dread in his heart.

A▋▋▋▋ beams like he was just handed the world.

C▋▋▋▋ spends his eleventh birthday locked outside. Surprisingly, Weaver had nothing to do with it, at least not directly. An older boy, Cobalt, had waited for him at the door after school with an airsoft gun, refusing him entry at gunpoint. Not unexpected, given the extensive damage C▋▋▋▋ had done to his posters the night before.

Perhaps a show of defiance wasn't the brightest course of action in hindsight, given that C▋▋▋▋ ended up sitting by the fence, nursing a welt or two on his upper thigh. Though he'd never admit it, what stung far more was the fact he'd be missing his biannual movie night with A▋▋▋▋ - for the past two years on their birthdays, they'd commandeer the wheeled TV and VHS player for a few hours to watch a slightly munted copy of Spy Kids 2. They'd never seen the first, but it's not like they followed rules often, anyways. C▋▋▋▋'s birthday had been chosen because he'd thought he felt older that morning, and that was enough. A▋▋▋▋ had a real birthday, but he didn't make a big deal of it.

Nevertheless, it was hardly the first time he'd spent the night outside. The fear had long since faded to indifference, though he knew A▋▋▋▋ would join him shortly anyways. He'd had lacrosse practice, and C▋▋▋▋ had heard the activities bus a few minutes ago.

As if on cue, he saw the blonde drop from the window to the emaciated birch. C▋▋▋▋ waited for him to inevitably cut himself on a branch or sprain his ankle landing wrong, but the day could hold only so much bad luck, apparently. 

C▋▋▋▋ paid him a somber wave as he approached.

"Coby?" A▋▋▋▋ questioned, then followed up without waiting for a response. "'m sorry, Cat. I stole his jar of BBs this morning, but I should've known..." He mopes guiltily, dropping to the dirt beside C▋▋▋▋.

C▋▋▋▋ didn't respond. While not quite mute, he rarely spoke to anyone aside from A▋▋▋▋ - and even then, he was hardly a conversationalist. He'd told his best friend that he simply much preferred to listen, but he honestly never understood why he didn't feel like speaking, himself. 

Nearly a minute passed before he said anything.

"They're not BBs. They're pellets."

A▋▋▋▋ tilted his head. "Huh?"

The magicat sighed. "BBs are lead. Airsoft pellets are like, plastic." This earned a gasp from A▋▋▋▋.

"Isn't that what real bullets are made've?" 

"No, dummy. Real bullets are made of iron." C▋▋▋▋ declared, snickering. Sometimes it was fun being the smart one of the group.

A▋▋▋▋ frowned for a moment, then nodded. "I guess that makes sense," he admits, "'m not that good with metal stuff."

"Metal stuff?" C▋▋▋▋ laughs.

A▋▋▋▋ blushes. "Y'knew what I meant. You're the science friend."

"You're a fuckin' dork."

A▋▋▋▋ didn't respond, he just kept looking at C▋▋▋▋ with that signature grin.

"Hey, A▋▋▋▋?" C▋▋▋▋ asked, breaking A▋▋▋▋ from his stupor.

"Yeah?"

"Do you, uh, think you could ramble about something like you did last night?" C▋▋▋▋ sniffs a bit, the cold air finally getting to him.

A▋▋▋▋'s cheeks turn red, probably just now registering the cold. "Mhm, whatdya want?"

"Anything. Just talk."

C▋▋▋▋ presses his back to the fence as A▋▋▋▋ chatters about some weird jellyfish he read about, easily forgetting the cruel sting of the night air. The conditions didn't matter to him. Anywhere felt safe with A▋▋▋▋.

A▋▋▋▋ awoke to the usual mess of tangled limbs and half-discarded blankets. Apparently he ran hot, and Cat preferred that source of heat to the comforter, if the purring was any indication. A▋▋▋▋ ran his hand through Cat's hair, scritching a little behind his ears for good measure. Pure, sweet, morning bliss before the hell of high school. 

The top bunk had been all but abandoned for about a year now - ever since A▋▋▋▋'s 13th birthday - and neither of them seemed keen to change that. They slept far better in each other's company than they ever had apart - and no, it wasn't gay, they both liked girls, thank you very much. Best friends share beds all the time, it's not a big deal. 

In his musings, A▋▋▋▋ failed to notice Cat awaken, and so the sudden voice hit his reverie like a tsunami. 

"D'ya think Shweaver would ever let us get a pet?" 

A▋▋▋▋ looked at Cat in bewilderment, wondering where the hell he got the idea. 

Cat, sensing the confusion, elaborated "Cuz Coby got that dumb fish despite being useless. Surely we could get away with a cat or something."

A▋▋▋▋ took a few seconds to consider it, before ultimately deciding that it wasn't worth risking. Cat pouts before he can say anything. 

"S'not fair." Cat pauses a tick before an idea blooms in his head, following with "I'd bet if you asked her she'd fold in an instant." 

A▋▋▋▋ recoiled at the accusation, finally speaking. "What? She hates me as much as anyone. What makes you think she'd listen to anything I said?"

Cat scoffs, nuzzling his head into A▋▋▋▋'s chest even further, looking up at him - which definitely did not make his cheeks light up - and counters, "Please, princess. She'd give you anything you asked for, the way she goes on and on about your 'potential' and how you'll make her proud one day."

There's that nickname again, a point of relentless teasing from the time said he wanted to be like Briar Rose in Sleeping Beauty - a comment that had just slipped out with little to justify it. Truth be told, he didn't hate it. It was kind of cute, in a completely straight and normal way.

"Did I break you? You still in there?"

A▋▋▋▋ snaps out of it to find Cat's face in inch from her- HIS own. Just close enough that a slight nudge could... 

"No, sorry, just thinking about how we could do this. She's definitely not going to take us to a pet store, but I think maybe if we got a stray, she wouldn't make me get rid of it."

Cat bristles a little at the use of 'me', retreating back into A▋▋▋▋'s chest, but ultimately relents. 

"There's that gray cat that's sometimes out behind the music trailer at school. He's really old, though." Cat hums in thought, clearly talking only to himself.

A▋▋▋▋ interrupts the processing, suggesting "We can keep an eye out for any strays on the way to school and back, okay? We- I can convince her to let us keep it." 

This earns a thick grumble from the magicat, which is probably the closest thing he'd get to an 'okay' right now.

Silence had fallen over the room, the two having concluded their dialogue. 

Or, it would be silent, were it not interspersed with soft, trilling purrs.

A▋▋▋▋ doesn't want to be a boy anymore. Nothing about his body feels right. It feels like everyone around him only talks about being shitty to women and how best to get laid. He hates the clothes, he hates the expectations, he hates the facial hair and the body odor and everything about this accursed body he inhabits. He feels more than just ugly, he feels ashamed of himself. When Lonnie asked him out nearly a month ago, he took it as a prank and walked away - Cat chewed him out for that one, later. Apparently Lonnie cried afterwards, so now A▋▋▋▋ gets an accusatory glare in the halls.

If he'd been born a girl, everything would be perfect. The past sixteen years would make sense. The feelings he knows he shouldn't have for Cat that are twisted up in an ever-present wrongness would be so easy to understand. Maybe then Cat would stop being so distant, and they'd finally share a bed again. Maybe Cat wouldn't be afraid to be seen with him for fear of being calling gay again.

He had known he couldn't tell Cat. It would have ruined the tiny sliver of friendship that remained. So instead, he told the only adult he trusted.

-----------

The counselor's office was easily the most tranquil building in the whole school. Dim lights, a pleasant aroma of vanilla, lilac walls decorated tastefully without any of that "hang in there" bullshit.

A▋▋▋▋ slipped into the armchair across from the counselor, grateful for the sweatshirt - Cat's sweatshirt - lending him the courage to do this. 

The counselor smiled to A▋▋▋▋, then broke the silence.

"So, A▋▋▋▋, what seems to be the matter? You've looked rather stressed lately. Is there anything I can help with?"

The name stung a little to hear from her. For the first time, A▋▋▋▋ looked, truly looked at Ms. Ella. Purple locks complemented her soft, delicate features - and all he could feel was jealousy.

A deep breath helps to center him. "I really don't know how to say this, but you're kind of the only person I felt safe to go to."

Ms. Ella nodded.

"I've never really felt like I fit in with everyone else," he starts, "Like everyone else has something figured out that I don't. Like I don't belong."

Another nod. Another deep breath.

"I... I hate being a boy. Not- I don't want to be a man or any of that shit - sorry - I hate being like this. Nothing feels right anymore. Every time I'm forced to see this body I want to cry. I just... what can I do? How can I fix this? I only started feeling this way a few weeks ago, is it still reversible? Am I going to be like this forever? Is-" A▋▋▋▋'s rambling is cut off by a raised hand from Ms. Ella.

Her face is calm, warm, understanding. When she finally speaks, her voice is even and relaxed.

"Do you think you'd be happier as a woman?"

A▋▋▋▋ scrunches his face up, half-expecting the question to be a trap.

She smiles genuinely. "Honey, it's okay if you do. I promise that anything you say here stays with me."

He hesitates. Thirty seconds, a minute.

"I think so," he whispers weakly. He follows it with a stronger message, "But I'm not a transexual! I just... wish I'd been born different."

Ms. Ella looks... proud, if a little pitying.

-----------

Another hour later, Adora walks home from school, her head swimming with information. She heads to her room, finding it empty, as usual. Cat is probably out with friends or something; their relationship has been strained lately. It's to the point where he isn't even the first person Adora wants to tell about this. In fact, she doesn't really know if she has anyone else she could tell. 

As the next few weeks go by, Adora avoids the matter entirely. She suffers through the constant misgendering, deadnaming, and the rot of stagnation. She desperately needs to be doing something, making an effort to become who she wants to be. She's downright miserable, knowing that she could be on blockers and estrogen right now but isn't.

In a moment of weakness, she decides to tell Ms. Weaver. 

Like a moth to the flame, she approaches Weaver's office. She knocks.

"Come in, A▋▋▋▋." beckons the inky voice within.

Not bothering to wonder how she knew it was her, she opens the door and stands in front of Weaver's desk.

"What do you need, my child? Is that wretch C▋▋▋▋ still bothering you?" She spits the name as though it were filth.

Adora steels herself, then speaks before she can regret it.

"I'm transgender. I need to go on puberty blockers and I would like to be referred to as Adora," she says in the most monotone voice she can pull, her heart racing in her chest.

After a moment's hesitation, Weaver responds.

"Of course, child. I'll schedule an appointment as soon as I am able. Was there anything else?"

The words take a moment to hit Adora, leaving her in shock. She recovers enough to offer a simple 'no', then steps out into the hall. From within, the shadows release a final command.

"Do take care, Adora. I'm expecting great things from you."

Chapter Text

The promised appointment never ended up happening. A few weeks after their meeting, Weaver brought Adora into her office and handed her two bottles of pills - estradiol and blockers. Gray market, presumably, but she wasn't complaining. With it, she was also given a packet of information on recommended doses. All in all, a very surprising turn of pace for Weaver. Adora entertained no notion of the director suddenly having a change of heart - she wasn't stupid - she merely wondered what the hell her game was.

By the time of her 16th birthday, she was up to 6mg Est a day and feeling better than ever. She had her own room, now, which was a privilege nearly unheard of in Weaver's institute. Weaver and Ms. Ella remained the only individuals she'd confided in, though Cat had certainly noticed the mood swings. Adora didn't think he'd pieced it together yet, though it was only a matter of time.

Weaver had been suspiciously respectful thus far, stalwartly remaining discreet until Adora was comfortable coming out - not that that would happen any time soon. She had begun trusting her with more responsibility, employing her to file paperwork and do data entry for a modest sum each week. Adora finally had savings and hope for the future, and yet Cat still wouldn't say a word to her. He seemed to downright resent her of late, shooting her piercing glances and roughly brushing her shoulder in the hall whenever he got the chance.

It all came to a head when her pills went missing. She'd been more than careful, establishing her usual contraband niche inside her dresser drawer. As such, she could really only see one individual capable of this theft.

After curfew, Adora snuck over to Cat's now-private room to confront him, finding the magicat lounging on the bed with a smirk on his face, as though expecting her. He spun her blockers in the palm of his hand, confirming her suspicions outright.

"Hey A▋▋▋▋," he started, emphasizing the deadname. "You looking for your little pills?"

Adora's face went cold. Cat kept talking.

"You thought no one would notice? That I wouldn't notice?" He sat up, crossing his legs as he glared into Adora's soul.

Adora let out a panicked sigh, tears forming in her eyes. "I- I wanted to tell you, but you'd been so distant and-"

Cat interrupted the thought, tossing both pill bottles at her, one crashing to the floor as she caught the other.

"I haven't told anyone. Yet." The news brings a short-lived wave of relief to Adora. "But whatever fucked up 'deal' you have going on with Weaver? You're going to give me at least half of whatever you're getting, and your little," he motioned toward the pill bottles, "delusion can stay our secret."

It takes everything in Adora to hold back the sobbing long enough to ask, "Why? W-we... I thought we were friends, Cat." The dam bursts, and her words become interspersed with sobs. "Why do you hate me?" she chokes out.

C▋▋▋▋ scoffs. "Don't pretend you didn't abandon me the moment you got cozy with Weaver. You got yours and decided I wasn't worth it anymore, huh?" He stands quickly, and in a flash he's pinned Adora to the wall, yelling. "You THREW ME AWAY. So much for your fucking savior complex! Only took a few seconds to decide I wasn't worth it anymore? I've never NEEDED YOUR FUCKING HELP." The meager air leaves Adora's lungs as C▋▋▋▋ lands a brutal underhanded punch to her stomach, his dewclaw leaving a deep groove.

Quieter, solemnly, he adds, "I'm better off on my own than I ever was with you. Pay your dues and stay the fuck out of my life."

As Adora doubles over in pain, he wrenches the door ajar and shoves her through.

Broken-hearted, bleeding, and alone, Adora returns to her room drenched in tears.

C▋▋▋▋ already knew he'd get shit for it in the morning, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He'd never felt so much anger in his life, taking it out on the cheap plastic-y sheets and his own stained pillowcase. Fabric caught in his claws, a sensation that normally set him alight with discomfort, a sensation that he didn't even process now. He did anything he could to crush the burgeoning sadness in his heart at the loss of a 'friend', one that clearly had only wanted him when it was convenient. 

Fuck it. C▋▋▋▋ was alone from now on. 

Maybe he always had been.

C▋▋▋▋ wasn't remotely surprised when his door nearly came off its hinges in the morning as Weaver stormed in. He rubbed sleep from his eyes, trying to remain nonchalant as he saw the pure fury in her eyes. Of course A▋▋▋▋ had ratted on him. He'd probably been feeding Weaver everything C▋▋▋▋ had said for the past several months, if not their entire lives. He braced himself for the coming storm.

He made no attempt to flee as she grabbed him by the scruff and threw him to the floor. "You insolent, useless, CURSE of a child! Time and time again, I told Adora that you would utterly ruin her, but even I didn't expect you to go so far. I should kill you for this, you miserable little wretch." 

C▋▋▋▋ stood as stoic as he could, silently vowing to show no weakness. As Weaver closed in, no doubt to grab him again, he struck at her face, the minor resistance to his claws evoking a visceral catharsis the likes of which he'd never felt. It lasted but for a moment, as Weaver leapt forward, taking hold of whatever she could in her half-blind state. Agony erupted from the back of C▋▋▋▋'s scalp as every fiber of his mane went taught.

The next several moments went by in a blur of white-hot pain he was thankfully only semi-conscious for. He felt carpet turn to tile turn to hardwood, and yet his control was thoroughly uprooted. When he finally found reprieve, he was on the floor of the west common dorm as Weaver called everyone to attention.

Composed malice flowed through her every word as she began her speech. "This sad excuse for a child shall be joining you in this dorm from now on," she gestured to the room at large, "and the lot of you shall be on your own for food for the next week."

A collective uproar set across the room, enduring a few moments before being quieted by Weaver's thunderous command: "SILENCE! You may count yourselves lucky I house you ingrates at all with what little good you do for me. You will accept what you are provided and you will be thankful, lest you find yourselves on the streets." 

She turns to leave, offering one last suggestion over her shoulder.

"Oh, and if you have any complaints, you know who brought this upon you." With that, the door slams.

The uproar begins again, and C▋▋▋▋ counts himself lucky that he passes out quickly.

In the four days since her escape, Adora had faced a litany of "wake-up calls", as Weaver would've put it. She had been turned away from three shelters, assaulted once, and robbed of her backpack. She had blessedly managed to keep a hold of her pills and cash - nearly $700 in total - by virtue of hiding the plastic bag in her underwear, a tactic she'd picked up from some old movie. Adora had maintained the lie that she was 18 such that she would not be reported as a runaway, though her blockers had done little to help her case. 

She hopped from bus to bus, eventually finding herself four or five towns south. Whispering Hills seemed like a fairly dead-end town - lacking even a police station - though it did have a library, which she found some success in. The librarian, George, was incredibly sweet and offered to let her sleep in the staff room he'd graciously stocked with a beanbag chair. 

Adora didn't exactly "pass" as of yet, at least in her eyes. She tended to hide in Cat's her green hoodie, hoping to remain mostly unnoticed as a nondescript teenager, but George seemed to be under the impression that she was a girl. She declined to provide her name the first two times he'd asked, but relented upon realizing that he was the most safety she'd manage to get. She had beamed when he said the name suited her.

Adora made herself useful by helping to stock shelves, organizing the returns cart, and cleaning any surface she could get her hands on. The other Librarian, George's brother, had insisted that it wasn't necessary and that her stay wasn't in question, but he eventually relented. Over the next three weeks, she came to respect the two of them far more than any other prior adult in her life, save for maybe Ms. Ella, and entrusted them with pieces of her backstory. 

The confession that she was a runaway was met with no shock, having apparently been contacted a few days prior by one of Weaver's assistants asking if they'd seen her. 

"I didn't tell him anything, but he seemed to think you could have ended up nearby." George offered her a knowing nod, accepting her unspoken thanks before continuing, "We will protect you for as long as you wish to stay here. We know there's not a lot to do, but our collection is yours to explore." 

The other librarian - Lance, as she'd only just been informed the other day - started "We'd love to offer you a place in our home, but-" 

"We have twelve children. We figured you'd probably prefer a room to yourself," George finished. Adora didn't bother correcting him and simply nodded.

Wait... "Children? Are you two-" she made a gesture she hoped conveyed 'in a relationship'.

Lance and George looked at each other for a few moments, completely straight faced - and then broke down laughing. Adora rushed to correct herself, but Lance eventually held up a hand to stop her.

Tears still fresh in his eyes, he said, "Kid, I'm sorry, I thought it was obvious. Yes, hun, we're married in every sense except federally." 

Adora sighed in relief, "Sorry. I haven't, uh... Been around people like you." She realized how bad that sounded, then quickly added in a panic, "Not that I mind! You two are great, I don't, uh, have any issues with gay people! I'm - I mean, you don't, uh..." Jesus Christ, girl. Get it together.

In a last ditch effort, she blurted out, "I'm trans! It's okay! Sorry! AH!" She yelped as George put a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes.

"Girl, chill. We get it. We have two trans sons, we've got you." With George's words, the phantasmal weight on her shoulders dropped, and she rushed forward to hug him. 

C▋▋▋▋ takes pride in the three scars that form on Weaver's otherworldly-pale face. He'd gotten off fairly light, himself, all things considered. Apparently Lonnie and Rogelio cared enough to stand up for him, the lizard's stature and scales easily scaring off the other children. They'd never been 'close', he wouldn't say, but C▋▋▋▋ had stood up for them a few times in the past, and apparently they saw fit to repay it. 

The next few months saw a sort of trinity form between them, neatly filling the power vacuum A▋▋▋▋ didn't know he previously occupied. With his absence and Coby having aged out a few months back, C▋▋▋▋ was free to spin the story to his liking, ensuring that the rest of the orphanage didn't give them shit. 

Lonnie and C▋▋▋▋ took over the jobs A▋▋▋▋ had been responsible for, much to Weaver's chagrin - but she didn't have much of a choice, given that they were the only ones with spines in the damned place. Rogelio started doing errands for Weaver as her health declined, though she remained bitter about it even as she slowly shriveled to dust. 

It was a shock to no one when Weaver finally keeled over in the summer of 2014; everyone had assumed she only held on out of pure spite. With her gone, the position of director fell to an equally pale man named Hordak - god forbid anyone in this fucked up little town name their kid something normal. Hordak took C▋▋▋▋'s leadership well, elevating him from his position as a glorified secretary to his right hand man. If Lonnie and Rogelio were upset by this change, they certainly knew better than to voice it.

As C▋▋▋▋ entered his senior year, he found himself with more money than he knew what to do with. Hordak had cut him in on a small drug running job - shocker, the dude had a drug empire - which he found himself quite good at. His years of being manipulated and neglected made his tongue sharp, and his claws sharper. He was dexterous and lithe, ideal for discreet deals and for when shit went down and he needed to scram.

He eventually met Hordak's definitely underage girlfriend, Entrapta (not even going to touch that one), who he became fast friends with. She was a little off, but not in a way that got on C▋▋▋▋'s nerves. He got a crash course or two on electrical engineering and programming, quickly picking up Python and C# as a hobby. For all her quirks, the girl was a genius, a master of nearly anything that pulsed with electricity. 

When Entrapta went back to college, she encouraged C▋▋▋▋ to apply once he finished high school. Surprisingly, his sob story about growing up in the system and his proficiency in programming outweighed his mediocre test scores and got him a place at CWU - not as glamorous as Entrapta's school, but affordable and not too gaudy. He applied for on-campus housing (obviously), though wasn't lucky enough to pick his dorm or his roommate. He got stuck with an English major, of all things, some crop-top wearing guy named Bow. To be honest, the guy wasn't all that bad. He was respectful and didn't ask questions, a feature he wished most humans came with. Bow dodged conversations of politics and seemed to hold his tongue at some of C▋▋▋▋'s opinions, but most of the people she'd met seemed to roll that way.

A little past the beginning of her freshman year, he turned 17 to little fanfare, save for a forced outing with Bow.

Life was good. C▋▋▋▋ hadn't heard a word from Hordak in months, and frankly he didn't care. He was well past the point of being number two. Never again would he settle for that. In a few years, he'd find a high-paying software job and live in luxury for the rest of his life.

Getting rid of A▋▋▋▋ was the best decision he'd ever made.

Chapter Text

Adora stares at the game board, bewildered and beyond curious at how Cat managed to cheat at Sorry! without her noticing. Cat sticks out his tongue, his tail swaying happily and every so often brushing Adora's hand as she interrogates her best friend.

Without warning, Cat's ears pin back and his hackles raise. Adora doesn't even have to look to know who it is.

"C▋▋▋▋, I will not tell you again to sheathe that disgusting thing," comes the voice from behind her. The voice attains some semblance of warmth as it turns to address her, "Adora, you are needed in my office. Follow after me, if you would."

Adora's head swivels at the mention of her name. She passes Cat an apologetic glance, but he just looks sad. She stands and steps away slowly, barely catching the anger and the betrayal in Cat's eyes as she turns the corner.

Adora arrives at Weaver's office, knocking on the door, unsure of when she'd fallen so far behind.

"Come in, dear."

She opens the door and steps inside, immediately gasping.

"Adora, you mustn't associate with that stray any longer," Weaver starts, wiping an elongated finger along the kitchen knife in her hand.

Adora's eyes go wide with fear, then she screams.

"Adora," she starts again, venom dripping from her voice, "Calm yourself. You need to let go of your emotions and do what is right for you. C▋▋▋▋," she spits the name, "only weighs you down, a parasite draining all that you are."

Weaver spots the hesitation in her eyes, then adds, "You want to make me proud, don't you?" She motions Adora closer, and she reluctantly complies. "You wouldn't want to be a burden on me, would you?" Adora remains stock still. "You won't live up to your... potential with him in the way."

Tears should be wetting Adora's face, but she merely extends her hand. With a sinister grin, the director places the knife in her hand, and it quickly morphs to resemble a hunting knife.

Adora clenches her fist around the grip until her hand bleeds.

Adora awoke to a grotesquely bright light in her face, blinding her in an instant.

"Dude, I don't have any shit left," she exclaimed - entirely truthfully, one might add. It had been about two weeks since she left Lance and George's library, and she was back to sleeping on benches - though, in Thaymor, this time. She had been a bit too careless in drawing her money to pay for food and got robbed yet again, this time losing everything. Bench to bench she migrated, occasionally interrupted with a brief extralegal stay indoors. She'd managed to squirrel herself away in a Home Depot for a few days, claiming a cozy enough shelf to lie upon out of sight and out of mind, though that ended when she fell on her way down one morning and got thrown out. So, this bench in Velvet Grove Park had become her new best friend over the past six hours.

A gruff, emotionless voice interrupted her reminiscing. "You can't sleep out here."

Adora sat up, finally looking the menace up and down, anger building at the blue uniform she'd grown to hate over the past few months. The uniform that had harassed her over and over again, kicked her from the only shelter she'd had, insulted and demeaned her, and that turned a blind eye when she had the audacity to get robbed.

Cranky, hungry, and sleep-deprived, her hatred possessed her, and she spat, "The fuck's your problem, man? I'm just trying to sleep; I've got enough problems without you butting in."

The moment the baton was drawn, Adora realized her mistake.

Her cell was as bare-bones as the movies had always made them out to be, the rock-solid cot doing little to alleviate her aching back. It was a short time after dawn, if the light streaming through the glass at the end of the hall was anything to go by. Adora had obviously gotten no sleep following the 'incident,' her pounding headache and swollen lip providing enough agony for a lifetime.

To make matters worse, the occupant of the neighboring cell would not stop snoring. She wore a muted light-gray blouse under a denim jacket, extravagantly adorned with a blue jeweled diamond brooch. She matched her top with a black maxi skirt that stopped a full six inches above her ankles, showing off her custom purple-pink boots that looked straight out of a children's cartoon. Just another rich girl that would no doubt be out by noon if her parents had anything to say about it.

Adora caught herself in the thought, admonishing herself for becoming so jaded in such a short time - though this thought was abruptly halted by the realization that the snoring had stopped. She swiveled her head back towards her neighbor and found her staring right back, face pressed against the bars.

A blush crept up the rich girl's face to her ears, stammering some sort of apology: "S-sorry! I- you just don't seem like the type of gi- person that would end up here." She offers a half-smile that defuses nothing.

Adora holds herself back from an indignant retort, settling for "It's alright. I never expected to end up here, either."

"Glimmer," the pink-haired girl comments, reaching a hand through the bars.

Adora shoots back a confused look, glancing around the room for the relevant stimulus. The girl withdraws her hand, rolling her eyes.

Matter-of-factly, she states, "My name. Glimmer Brightmoon. What's yours?"

Embarrassment blooming in her face, Adora introduces herself in turn, "Oh, uh, hi. I'm Adora." She feels like she should add her last name, but abstains for whatever reason.

Glimmer raises an eyebrow. "I take it you're not from around here?"

She manages to get out, "Uh, yeah, how could y-?" before she's talked over.

"Most people recognize the name Brightmoon, is all." No further explanation is offered, and Adora doesn't feel like prying.

"I'm from Whispering Hills, a little ways east of here," Adora explains. She decides to add "I worked at the library for a bit."

Glimmer's eyes grow wide. "You must know Bow then, right? Pretty boy, crop top, kinda got baby deer energy?"

The name strikes an ounce of recognition in Adora, taking a few moments to fish out.

"George's youngest, right? Never met him, but they talked about him some."

Glimmer nods, "Guess you hadn't been at the library long. He went off to college a few months ago, used to help out at the library, too. We've been besties pretty much as long as we've been alive." A wistful look conveys everything Adora needs to know on the subject, stirring a feeling she doesn't wish to investigate. She changes the subject.

"You said I should recognize your name? Are you famous or something?" Adora glances down at Glimmer's brooch, connecting the dots a little.

Glimmer scoffs. "I wish. My mom's the mayor."

"Of Whispering Hills?" Adora realizes her slip-up immediately, the bemusement in Glimmer's face invoking some panic.

Trepidatiously, she responds, "Of Etheria. The city in which we are. Are you-"

She's interrupted by the hallway door screeching open, fighting hinges that hold on presumably out of pure spite. Another non-descript cop.

"Brightmoon, your mother is here to collect you." He waddles over to her cell door and unlocks it, brusquely wrenching the door ajar and motioning her towards the exit, not so much as glancing at Adora. Glimmer walks off, paying Adora a parting wave and a mouthed apology as she leaves.

Adora laments the loss of her new friend over the course of the next twenty minutes. A part of her just knows they'd be best friends in different circumstances than these, but it seems nothing can go her way lately.

As if on cue, the hallway door opens again, and the same cop steps out, begrudgingly uttering, "Grace, you're free to go as well. Mrs. Brightmoon wants to speak with you in the lobby."

Five minutes into the drive to Whispering Hills, Adora's panic truly sets in. Apparently Glimmer had told her mom - Angella, she insisted - that Adora was a friend of Bow's dads, and that was enough for her to offer a ride. Adora struggles to say 'no' on a good day, and thus she ended up in the back seat with a cold sweat. Glimmer endures a quip from her mother every so often, but the drive is mostly 80's pop.

Angella certainly fits the part of mayor - she has to be at least 6'6" - and her gaze instills a strange balance of warmth and fear. She's dressed like she's ready for a ball, wearing some fancy dress and cape combo more befitting of a queen than a mayor. The moment Adora first saw her, she knew she needed Angella's respect.

As they near their destination, passing a shoddy "Welcome" sign, Glimmer notices Adora's condition and nudges her mom. Adora spots a pair of thin gray eyes looking her over in the rear-view mirror and suddenly finds interest in the minute details of the carpet.

A silky voice addresses her, "Adora, is something the matter? I'm not driving you somewhere you won't be safe, am I?"

Silence is all that Angella needs to confirm that assumption. Without much hesitation, she pulls off the road and parks in the first spot she finds. Adora hides her nose in her shirt, struggling to hold back the tears and ultimately failing as her vision goes blurry.

Glimmer is the first to speak. "Adora, do you have any family nearby?"

Adora manages to choke out a 'no' and fumbles the rest as she continues to break down. Glimmer pops open the passenger door against her mother's wishes and sidles in beside Adora, wrapping her in a hug before she can object. The dam bursts, and she breaks apart completely. Her new friend holds her through it like she's done it all her life.

When her weeping subsides, Angella addresses her again. "You are free to decline, of course - though I highly encourage it."

Adora wants nothing more than to put up her walls and trudge on alone again, but her aching, starving body compels her to accept, the fear of another night in the open for once outweighing her fear of being a burden.

Burden, burden, burden. That word echoes through her head like it pays rent. Her thoughts flit back to Lance and George, how the day she left, they'd solemnly told her that they couldn't afford to pay her for her work that week. She recalled the overwhelming shame, the contrition that constricted her chest and pounded at her head as she sobbed in the bathroom afterwards, gasping for breaths that wouldn't come.

That same paralyzing guilt she felt now, that had plagued her as long as she could remember, never sated until her soul was empty. After Weaver backhanded Cat hard enough that his head hit the banister, after Cat stole her pills and punched her, after hearing that Weaver had called the library.

She was going to die. She was having a heart attack. Her left arm went numb, her mouth dried up, her jaw ached. Someone was crying to her right, nearly in hysterics.

The panic to her right rattled on, accompanied by something more directed from the front. She felt a hand on her shoulder, a soft contrast to the dread burning a hole in her chest.

Involuntarily, she wrapped her arms around the crying figure - Glimmer, she recognized - forgetting her own condition, ignoring the pain that raked her veins, her breathing steadying and her heart calming its thunderous rage. A deep breath, two. She coddled Glimmer's head against her shoulder on instinct.

"You're okay, Glimmer - you don't have to worry about me. T-take some deep breaths, okay?" Her words wobbled, anxious and unnerved.

Glimmer took a deep breath and quieted, staring at Adora like she had two heads, then murmured, "Sorry. You scared me, I thought you were- were dying." Bemusement never left her face, but she eventually broke from the hug and buckled herself into the seat beside Adora.

Adora looked up to see Angella craning her head around the headrest, her expression resembling something akin to relief.

Angella was starting to scare Adora, honestly. Her expression never wavered, never showed a hint of emotion. She didn't so much as chastise her daughter for whatever had gotten her arrested. It was uncanny how little could be read from her face.

Over the remainder of the ride, there had been only old pop music. Glimmer had dropped her befuddled face a few minutes after they had started moving again, though Adora could tell there would be a conversation about it later.

The gate to the Brightmoon mansion opened at a glacial pace, creating an agonizing sound that only seemed to affect Adora. The SUV pulled up the driveway aside an extravagant fountain; though it was just noise to her at this point, her mind left at the gate. Words were probably said to her, but she failed to process them. Nor did she process the enormous windows, the regal decor, nor the creepy painting hanging in the foyer - things that should by all accounts have been remarkable to her. Things just happened around her without her input, and she followed her host on autopilot, like a ghost bereft of purpose. She was a spectator to her own life.

Adora isn't really sure when it happened, but she finds herself sitting at the dining room table with a plate in front of her. She is alone, though three additional plates are set, silverware and all. Her thoughts are her own again, a sense of childlike wonder taking over despite the exhaustion. While it's not quite the castle she'd always expected mansions to be as a child, she's shocked at how much space there is, how high the ceilings are, and in general just the scale of everything. The dining room alone probably took up as much room as the entirety of the Whispering Hills library. 

A door behind her opens, breaking through her revelry. Where Adora expects to find Angella or Glimmer, she instead sees a rather jubilant man with jet black hair, the sides shaven and the rest half up in a bun. He's wearing a floral shirt, khaki shorts, and moccasins despite the chilly weather.

"Hey there, Adora, right?" he says, sauntering over.

She nods, thankful when he chooses to abstain from shaking her hand, instead taking a seat diagonal from her. He twiddles his thumbs awkwardly, trying his damnest to look anywhere but at Adora.

He runs a hand through his hair, nonchalant as he says, "So... How was jail?"

Adora cachinnates, her heightened guard lowering drastically.

"Was nice to have some company, at least."

His lips draw into a knowing smirk. "You get the window cell at least?"

"I asked. No dice. Not exactly running a very tight ship."

"That's county jails for you. Not really meant to be impenetrable, just enough to hold someone for a little while. I doubt they see much more than the odd DUI, place was practically packed with just the two of you."

Adora eyes the man, about to comment, when a door on the other side of the room opens. Unsurprisingly, Angella and Glimmer traipse out, the latter clearly having just received a lecture from the former. A part of her mind thinks 'Good', before the rest beat it to death with hammers.

Glimmer takes the seat adjacent to Adora. Angella stops in front of the remaining seat and says, "I see you've met Micah-"

'Micah-' thumps his forehead with his palm. "Oh right! I'm Micah, Angella's wife. Err, she's my wife." Said wife looks at him, then ruffles his hair prior to sitting down, a genuine smile on her face.

Angella addresses Adora again, "Marnie will be out with the food shortly. In the meantime, would you mind telling us about your situation?"

Adora would mind, actually, but answers the rhetorical question nonetheless. "I ran away from my last place."

When the Brightmoons realize that's all she's going to offer on her own, the follow-up questions begin.

"You need not tell us everything, but it would help to know at least a little." Adora all but rolled her eyes, knowing well the unsaid threat it houses.

Micah starts, "What's your favorite color?" Angella shoots him a look, but his smirk only grows.

The question catches Adora completely off-guard. "Uh... red, I suppose."

He nods, silently passing the floor to his wife.

"Where was your last place?"

Adora debates her options, then decides: "Whispering Hills. I lived in the library for a few months."

Multiple sets of eyes grow wider at the revelation. 

After an extended pause, Micah asks, "Do you know how to play backgammon?"

The questions ping back and forth between them - favorite food, backstory, favorite subject, etc. - until they arrive at the topic of her family.

"What made you run from your family? Did you feel unsafe?" Angella poses the question as though it doesn't carry the weight of the world.

Adora bites her lip. "I, um... My family's dead. I grew up in an orphanage. In, uh, Fort Zona." Fright Zone, she and Cat had always called it.

This information only seems to shock Glimmer, whose jaw drops considerably. Angella and Micah share a look.

"You should stay here with us for the foreseeable future." Before Adora can protest, Angella continues, "It won't be forever, just until we figure things out."

The offer is overwhelming - suspiciously so - and Adora sits in silence, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it fails to come, she starts to spiral yet again, but Micah interjects, "How about you sleep on it? We've got a spare room up by Glim's you can use." 

Adora nods, if only because her psyche threatens to collapse in on itself from exhaustion.

The moment she touches the bed, she passes out.

---

When Adora awakens, the clock on the nightstand reads 6:30 AM. Figuring she has a while before anyone else awakens, she takes the opportunity to absorb the room. It's roughly twice the size of her dorm back in FZ, and it's carpeted, to her surprise. At the foot of the bed, against the wall, lies a dresser topped with a rather large flatscreen TV, the remote for which is seemingly lost to the ether. Adora opts not to touch it, some minor paranoia from Weaver's surfacing. She glances around the rest of the room, noting the no-doubt remarkably expensive painting of a willow tree to her right. She'd never been one for artwork, but it does seem to bring the room together. There's a ceiling fan above her that she can't even fathom how to operate, though she's cold enough as it stands. 

A knock at the door startles her, momentarily disabling her ability to respond. 

Glimmer calls through the door, "Breakfast is almost ready, if you wanted to join us."

Adora's mouth waters at the concept, having entirely neglected to eat dinner the night prior as the questions rained down. She bolts to the door, a little too eager, causing Glimmer to yelp when she opens it with vigor.

Adora barks something of an apology, then follows Glimmer to the kitchen.

Adora is still at the Brightmoon house two months later. She's been studying for her GED exams, a task she finds far more miserable than she remembered, probably because she no longer had Cat to help. Glimmer is slowly teaching her how to drive when she's not in class, sparking enough anxiety in Adora to warrant scheduling a psychiatrist appointment. Angella had seemed convinced that she had anxiety, which felt like an overreaction - but it's not like Adora had the courage to say 'no' to her. 

The Brightmoons had also gifted her a phone a few days prior, something Adora neither asked for nor understood how to use. She had seen her classmates use them before; of course, she had just never been the one pressing the buttons. It all looked so much easier when someone else did it. Glimmer tried to teach her a few apps and even had her make an Instagram, but still Adora decidedly favored the laptop she had been lent. So, for now, she stuck to using the phone part of her phone - when she remembered to take it with her, that is.

Glimmer and Adora had, predictably, become best friends, though she still found herself fearing that Glimmer would turn on her like Cat had. The topic of her gender had never been a question, something that shocked her given she was certain she didn't pass. Hiding her pills had been rather trivial, at least; alas, her stock was in dire straits. She had the number for Weaver's supplier memorized, as she'd been forced to make the calls herself after the first delivery, but she was reluctant to give Weaver an in.

Eventually, Adora was added to a group chat with Bow. She took to him easily, as well. She learned that Bow was about a half hour out from them at CWU and, as such, could only visit once every few weeks. Glimmer seemed to be taking that quite hard, which came to a head one Thursday evening. 

"Okay, make a left turn here. Keep straight, ease into the turn, nice- you're cutting it a little close to the curb- TOO CLOSE! ...Stars, girl, how do you function?" Glimmer had gripped the 'oh shit' handle like her life depended on it, only relaxing when the car stopped not-quite between the lines of a parking spot.

Adora's eyes watered slightly, then she sighed. "I'm never going to be good at this; I just get so... nervous. I don't understand how everyone is so calm when they're driving a two-ton metal deathtrap at 60 miles per hour. Aren't these things, like, one of the leading causes of death in the world?"

Glimmer just rolled her eyes. "You're the only one that thinks that, Adora," then, after a thought, added, "When's that psyche appointment?"

"Next Tuesday, why?" Adora knew why, she realized too late.

Glimmer donned her smug face. "Xanax will do you so much good, hun. You're as high-strung as they come." She mumbles something after, her expression fading. 

That's Adora's cue. "What's the matter, Glim?"

Glimmer doesn't even look at her. "I'm just tired; it's fine."

Adora hardly moves her lips before Glimmer gives in on instinct. "Okay, fine! You're worse than my mom about that shit; it's not a big deal. I'm just kinda upset that Bow's so far away. I knew we probably wouldn't end up at the same college, but he just had to go to CWU," she rants, her eyes betraying how little of a deal this was to her. "With my luck, you'll end up halfway across the country," she downtroddenly adds. 

Adora's body goes rigid. "Who said I was leaving?"

Glimmer turns to face her at last, cavalier as ever, "When you go to college?"

"Glim, I'll be lucky to get my GED at this rate. Plus, you know I can't afford college- No, don't you start with that. Your family is not spending any more on me." 

"You could try for a scholarship? You're smart, you have a sad backstory, and I'm sure there's plenty of scholarships for orphans," Glimmer suggests, tripping over the word 'orphans' as though it were a slur in a high school assigned reading.

Adora ponders this for a moment. She had thought about it before, sure, but she'd written it off before she got to the logistics. She'd had enough of school, honestly, but every teacher had always told her that college was the only way to ensure her job wasn't utter misery. 

She sighs again, the fear of failure crippling her resolve. "Guess it couldn't hurt to try."

Glimmer practically sparkles with delight.

The week after, Adora is prescribed an anxiety medication, to nobody's surprise except her own. 

Chapter Text

"You've seriously never been to the beach?"

C▋▋▋▋ prays his racing heart isn't audible when he responds. "No, I was pretty sheltered. Didn't do much of anything outside the house."

Bow frowns. "What did you do as a kid? You haven't seen any movies, you haven't played any sports, and you haven't gone anywhere."

C▋▋▋▋ snarls reflexively, warning Bow to drop it. 

He puts his hands up in mock surrender, then changes the subject. "You do this week's Calc questions yet?" He goes ignored as C▋▋▋▋ slinks back to his hammock. 

The dorm had come with beds, obviously, but C▋▋▋▋ had ignored the recommendations to bring a mattress pad and quickly found himself waking up in agonizing back pain. The slate mattress functioned now as a fire hazard, propped up against the dresser by the doorway, such that you could only open the door two-thirds of the way and had to sidle in and out. 

His hammock honestly wasn't that much better, but he was far too stubborn to regret his purchase. He'd caught some shit for it at first - well, actually, Bow had just cooed at the six-foot-long cat plush C▋▋▋▋ brought (that he definitely didn't use as a big spoon), but C▋▋▋▋ could tell Bow was just jealous he hadn't thought of it.

A sigh spills out from across the room. C▋▋▋▋ begrudgingly cranes his head to find Bow pouting over something. C▋▋▋▋, being the good roommate that he was, inquires.

"Stressing about your trip, again?" he calls, his voice cracking ever so slightly.

Bow nods. "I guess I'm still nervous from the crash. What if I lose focus again?"

C▋▋▋▋ scoffs. The 'crash' in question had just been Bow rolling over a curb while on the phone with his dad, but it had rattled him enough to delay his trip a full five days. 

C▋▋▋▋ wasn't about to let him make it six. "Listen, Shimmer-"

"Glimmer."

"- isn't going to wait for you forever. Get your ass over there before your girlfriend dies of separation anxiety." He came off a bit harsher than intended, but Sparkles makes him irrationally violent.

"She's not my girlfriend," came the expected reply.

C▋▋▋▋ facepalmed audibly. "Look, we've had this conversation four or five times already. If you don't leave in the next hour, I'm setting the room on fire." Bow's eyes widen, then he mumbles something even a magicat's ears couldn't parse. C▋▋▋▋ briefly wonders whether he could make it look like an accident.

Bow remains unconvinced, paralyzed by the fear of disaster. 

"Stars, I'll fucking drive you if that's what it takes." He regrets the words the instant they come out.

Clearly, the universe has favorites, because Bow leaps on the opportunity.

The drive wasn't the worst way to spend a Friday afternoon, honestly. C▋▋▋▋ had successfully guilted Bow into buying him some gas station mystery meat and a slushie, and the radio was loud enough that neither of them felt compelled to speak. It was only a thirty-minute drive, and C▋▋▋▋ managed to reach a state of bliss towards the end. He was almost sad when they arrived.

As they pull up to a black steel gate, embroidered with various filigree and flanked by an extensive marble archway, the doubt begins to creep in.

"This isn't the right place." 

Bow cleared his throat, a few beads of sweat forming instantaneously. "Right, so, uh, Glimmer's mom is the mayor-"

"Of course." C▋▋▋▋ groans, bewildered that this wasn't considered important enough to mention until now - he was wearing a band T-shirt and jeans, and Bow wasn't dressed much richer, himself.

Bow winces, "It's alright; just act natural. Micah is super chill; you couldn't make him mad if you tried." He looks away, as though that neatly answered all of C▋▋▋▋'s questions.

"... and her mom?" The sweat on Bow's neck told him everything he needed to know. "Her mom's terrifying, isn't she?"

"Only if you make her mad?" Bow tries, his voice cracking.

That was a task C▋▋▋▋ excelled at, unfortunately. He breathes out, exasperated. "'K, text me when you're done."

Bow pouts for a few seconds, then tries again. "Dishes for a week?"

"... A month."

C▋▋▋▋'s hackles raise as the door swings inward, breathing in a familiar scent he can't place.

A pink-haired woman that C▋▋▋▋ assumes is Glimmer stands off to the side, apparently too rich to even open her own door. She smiles at Bow, yet it fades the instant she sees a magicat beside him.

"Who is this?" Her voice exemplified her entitlement, an unmistakable 'holier-than-thou' tone C▋▋▋▋ had grown accustomed to when dealing for Hordak. 

Bow clears his throat, clearly displeased with her attitude. "Glimmer, this is C▋▋▋▋. He's my roommate; he drove me here."

Glimmer's face drops even further, displaying an emotion well beyond mere distrust. She cranes her head to the side, presumably towards the kitchen. She snaps back to Bow. "Hey, Bow, can we talk inside for a second?"

Bow gave C▋▋▋▋ sympathetic eyes, then steps inside. "It'll only be a minute, I'm sure-"

"Now, Bow."

"Yes ma'am." Stars, he's whipped.

C▋▋▋▋ leans against a nearby pillar, sneezing once as the sun pierces the clouds. He had no doubt Glimmer was chewing her boyfriend out for daring to bring home a 'subhuman' or whatever slur the kids were using these days - the rich are all of a kind. One of the nice things about being inhuman, though, is that he never really had to try to eavesdrop. People always just assumed everyone had the same, unsophisticated basal hearing capabilities, a fact C▋▋▋▋ regularly took advantage of.

"... his name?" That same bratty voice. 

"My bad... ...forgot... ...background check... roommate." The quip captures C▋▋▋▋'s full attention - Bow rarely gave sass.

He hears a door squeal open, then footsteps matching neither of the identified parties.

"Door, do you want us to call the cops?" Glimmer says less rhetorically than C▋▋▋▋ would've liked.

The unidentified woman shoots back, "No! Just... just let me talk to him? I need to apologize-"

Glimmer interrupts, raising her voice. "You don't need to apologize for shit!"

Her plea falls on deaf ears as the woman steps towards the front door and swings it open.

An astonishingly beautiful blonde steps into frame, speaking softly. "Listen, C▋▋▋▋, I'm really sorry."

C▋▋▋▋ gawks in confusion as he fails to understand what she's apologizing for. There's a hint of familiarity in her voice, a sort of comfortable nostalgia that drops his defenses and eases him into a quiet calm. A wretched thought hits him like a bolt of lightning, one he adamantly denies as he looks her up and down. Her face was rounder, her hair was thicker, fuller, and her eyes sparkled with a joy they'd never had when C▋▋▋▋ had known her.

"A▋▋▋▋?" he asks, kicking himself for not noticing sooner.

A▋▋▋▋'s face lights up red and she makes a shushing motion, hurriedly correcting, "My name is Adora." She they groan, backpedaling. "Sorry, I'm just- they don't know, okay? Keep it down, please?"

C▋▋▋▋ seethes. "They don't know what, Adora?" he says, speaking even louder. "That you're pretending to be a woman?" He steps forward into the doorframe, pushing them roughly. "You-" he starts, when pain ricochets through his jaw. His vision fades as he falls backwards, indiscernible shouting filling the air.
When he regains his senses, Glimmer is standing over him with bruised knuckles, yelling.

"You don't get to say SHIT to my sister. If you ever even look at her again, I'll-" She cuts off as Bow tugs on her arm. She turns to look at C▋▋▋▋ one last time, then stomps back inside and slams the door.

The drive back to CWU was awkward, to say the least. C▋▋▋▋ had waited in the car for several minutes after the door slammed, only leaving upon receiving a text from Bow saying that the ride back wouldn't be necessary. His jaw stung and his fingers still buzzed with pins and needles as he attempted to wipe the incident from his mind. Earlier, the claws on his left hand had imprinted grooves on the steering wheel, an unpleasant texture he was reminded of every time he turned more than fifteen degrees to the right. 

Why the hell didn't they seem shocked? What did they talk about in the kitchen? Were they expecting this, did Adora rat on me for the shit at Weaver's?

As he pulls into his usual parking spot, he takes a deep breath just as his phone buzzes once, twice, thrice. A part of him doesn't want to even read it, but he forces himself when he sees it's from Bow.

arrow: I got the full story from Adora. I'm still extremely disappointed at how you handled things, but I'm willing to hear you out.
You should know Adora blames herself for this. I don't want you talking to her until you and I have worked this out.
Give me a call when you're back. Don't run from me on this, Glim didn't even want me to give you a chance.

C▋▋▋▋ chuckles. Bow was too easy to work.

me: i'm sorry for how i reacted. we didnt end on good terms and this lgtv stuff is new to me

With that, he steps out of his car and makes his way to their room, leisurely flopping into his hammock. He gives it a few minutes, then calls Bow, who picks up in two rings.

"You're not as slick as you think you are."

C▋▋▋▋ sits up, replying, "What do you mean? This all just so new to me," his faux-naïf tongue almost sickeningly saccharine.

"Don't play dumb, Cat. You hurt my best friend and I know you don't regret it." Bow sounds exhausted, bordering on jaded.

C▋▋▋▋ grinds his teeth, a little disgruntled at the ease with which he'd been seen through. Maybe the LGTV joke had been too far. 

"Look, it's not my fault she- they decided to... that I lost my best friend because they didn't want to... Fuckin', no one wants to be a guy. It's just a shit hand all three of us were dealt; it's not something you can fix with pills and a sex change."

Bow trips over his words, astonished, "I- we don't... Nearly all men want to be men, C▋▋▋▋. Wh- I want to be a guy. I'm happier this way."

C▋▋▋▋ laughs mirthlessly. "Whatever, dude. I never wanted to live life on hard mode when women just breeze through life. The instant Adora decided she THEY were a girl, Weaver gave them everything while I was left destitute, left in the dirt to rot."

Bow's tone turns dour. "How can you- you have no idea what she's been through. She was homeless, C▋▋▋▋. She got robbed and beaten, she slept on the streets and had to fight to survive."

"I faced that much and more each and every day I lived in that shithole orphanage. They lived life in my shoes for a few days," C▋▋▋▋'s level tone shattering from desperation. "And, what? Adora gets to live in a mansion? Where the fuck is my mansion? I've suffered more than she they could ever know." 

"Stars, just say 'she'. If you correct yourself one more time I'm hanging up on you," Bow replied, his voice weighed down with disappointment.

"What? I'm not calling th- fucking... fine. She." He's sick of restructuring his sentences for it, anyways.

Bow takes a deep breath. "You are not the victim here. She was terrified and going through a huge change, and her best friend responded by stabbing her in the stomach and blackmailing her. You abandoned her."

C▋▋▋▋ snarls indignantly, "I didn't stab her, first of all - and second, she abandoned me! She didn't want anything to do with me the moment she got her dumbass pills! We- stars, fuck this. I'll call her by the right name and shit, okay?"

"That's a start, but you owe an apology to her - to all three of us." 

"To you, sure. To Adora, maybe. To Glimmer, though? She fucking punched me!"

C▋▋▋▋ can practically see the wishy-washy expression on Bow's face as he half-jokes, "I would've done the same, eventually. Be glad it was her."

C▋▋▋▋ doesn't reply.

"You're still not taking this as seriously as I'd like, but we can work on that. Despite everything, I still care about you. I know you can move past this and figure yourself out."

When C▋▋▋▋ still doesn't respond, Bow speaks again, "I'll see you on Monday. we're going to talk about this more. Don't try to contact either of them without my oversight."

The phone blips as the call ends, and C▋▋▋▋ sighs.

Nearly all men want to be men.

Well, nearly all men are idiots.

The promised continuation to the conversation seemed to assuage Bow's fears enough to get him off C▋▋▋▋'s back, but the stress was building nonetheless. Bow would hardly look at him half the time, and he spent as much time out of their room as possible. On top of that, C▋▋▋▋'s funds were beginning to run dry. His card had been declined at the damn vending machine a few hours earlier, forcing him to rake his pockets for spare change. He had some emergency cash in a sock in his backpack, but it was far from sustainable.

C▋▋▋▋ knows exactly how he's going to have to get out of this, and he hates himself for it.

At 6:17 AM on a Wednesday, he hits dial.

On the last ring, the call is accepted.

"Ah, little brother. Come crawling back, I see. I told you that you needed me."

C▋▋▋▋ grunted, "Fuck off, Hordak. Gimme some shit to run, I'm sure you've been in shambles without me."

Hordak condescends, "Your respect is lacking, as always. It's a shame Weaver isn't around to offer corrections."

C▋▋▋▋ doesn't bother dignifying him with a response.

"Nevertheless, you were sufficiently usable for my purposes once before, and as such, I am willing to take you under my wing again." Hordak's dispassionate tone betrays his need, as always.

"Where am I going and when?" C▋▋▋▋ importunes, ready to end the call the moment he clarifies.

A pause. "13:20, the northern Greenwater mall lot. L-"

C▋▋▋▋ hangs up.

Three weeks later, and C▋▋▋▋ is still sitting on mountains of product. 

Turns out, campus kids don't give a shit about hard stuff, the most they ever want is weed - maybe shrooms, if they're feeling adventurous. You need burnt-out office workers and pompous-ass executives to move white, a fact Hordak certainly knew when setting him up.

Tensions with Bow continue to rise as poverty and failure force C▋▋▋▋'s mood to plummet, and C▋▋▋▋ swears it's only days before Bow gets sick of his shit and leaves.

At least Calc II was easy enough. He twirls his stupid-ass clicker in his right hand as the professor goes on and on about substitution integration, occasionally advancing to another bloated slide with yet another shitty meme. C▋▋▋▋ could tell the kid to his right really wanted him to stop playing with his clicker, a fact that made him that much more inclined to continue.

Thirteen minutes until the end of class, half an hour of online worksheets, then he'd finally be free for the weekend.

The double doors at the back of the auditorium burst open, three cops spilling in, their eyes scanning the room. One saunters towards the front of the room, pulling the professor aside to speak with him. C▋▋▋▋ chuckles to himself, all too happy to watch the show, when the short cop pulls up beside him and wrenches him to his feet.

"C▋▋▋▋ D'riluth, you are under arrest. Place your hands behind your back."

Thunder shoots down his spine, utter shock consuming his mind, every waking thought discarded in an instant. He watched his life shatter, the ground giving away beneath him as cold steel clasped his wrists.

He vaguely hears his Miranda rights read to him as he watches in third-person. The magicat is unceremoniously led out the door to a police cruiser, and all C▋▋▋▋ can do is watch. The boy hits his head on the way in, the pain not even registering. 

Time passes.

This is really happening, isn't it? Bow fucking sold me out. He found my stash and fucking ratted.

Thoughts race through his mind, voices shouting over each other to be heard. A wave of cold washes over him, oddly bittersweet and addicting.

That's all I'm good for, apparently. The second I start to trust someone, they stab me in the back and take all I have, and I'm stupid enough to fall for it every damn time. Just some broken fucking shell of a person that everyone's just waiting to watch fuck up and ruin everything.

Wretch. Worthless. Vermin. All you've ever done is drag Adora down, it's no wonder she's moved on without you. She left you because you're a failure.

That last one sticks around; the voice icy and familiar. The car fades away, giving way to popcorn ceilings and beige walls.

C▋▋▋▋ stood over Weaver's bed, watching the light in her eyes flicker on and off. Her form was emaciated, nearly all her hair had fallen out, and she stank like death. She motioned him forward.
Her voice raked at C▋▋▋▋'s ears. "Speak."

"Why was it always A▋▋▋▋? I got higher grades, I've succeeded at everything I've ever done, and now I do your job better than either of you ever did. I've usurped A▋▋▋▋ in every category, time and time again, and still you chose him. Why?"

A weak, wet cough starts Weaver's speech, "You were never even in contention. You're a lowlife, a manipulative liar that burns everyone around you simply by existing. Every step that you took, you dragged her down. She has been thriving in your absence, ever since you drove her away." 

Each word hits like a sledgehammer, his fleeting hope crushed underfoot. 

Weaver enters another coughing fit, collapsing into her pillow.

Everything boils over. C▋▋▋▋ roars at the dying woman, "And yet I'm the one standing over you; I'm the one living! You're dying, afraid, and unloved, like you've always fucking deserved. All this time, I've wanted YOU to see me, and it was all for fucking nothing! I've spent my entire fucking life trying to live up to your expectations, and now I'm better than everyone in this fucking place! I don't need you, and I never fucking have. All you are is a coward." He takes a deep breath, almost whispering, "I'll proudly wear your disgrace."

Weaver doesn't react; and her eyes never again open.

Chapter Text

Time slowed to a halt as C▋▋▋▋ fell backwards. Adora took a step forward to try to catch him, but was abruptly stopped by Glimmer.

Adora yelled at her best friend, admonishing her for lashing out, all the while fearful of the consequences of C▋▋▋▋'s disclosure.

Adora sits in a lumpy armchair in the foyer across from Bow and Glimmer, who take the couch. Glimmer has ice on her knuckles, still fuming, and yet Adora wants nothing more than to check on C▋▋▋▋.

She supposes someone will have to break the silence. "Look," Adora starts, catching the attention of both parties, "W-what he said about me out there, uh, about me being a guy-"

Bow looks at her with wet eyes as Glimmer cuts her off, "Adora, he doesn't have the right to say anything about you. I know you both grew up sheltered as fuck, but he's a piece of shit for calling you that."

Adora's eyes water a bit as she chokes out her next few words, "He- he wasn't lying. I'm... I was born a man. I've been lying to you both this whole time." She prepares herself for the inevitable backlash, but instead catches Bow and Glimmer sharing a look.

Glimmer goes to speak, but Bow raises a hand to cut her off.

"Adora, we know. We've known. You... you really thought we'd hate you for that?" Bow looks hurt, and maybe a little afraid.

"Wh- Since when? I don't know what I did wrong; I was so careful." She's on the verge of sobbing and a slight bit of anger lingers in her confusion.

Bow stands and walks towards her, extending a hand to comfort her, though he retreats when she flinches. He takes a seat to the right of her in an antique rocking chair made for someone two-thirds his size. 

He looks up at her. "Adora, you know Glim and I are both gay, right?"

Adora's expression turns to shock, then embarrassment. "Oh my stars, I'm so sorry for asking if you two were dating, I swear I didn't know! I made things so awkward between you for no reason... shit."

Glimmer laughs, "No, dumbass. We're both bi - well, I'm pan, but you probably don't know what that is."

Bow gives the chair an experimental rock, then adds, "They're pretty much the same thing, but the distinction matters to some people." Glimmer shoots him a look, and he holds his hands up in surrender.

He continues, "More importantly - wait, that sounded wrong... Uh, I'm trans, too. I'm kind of surprised you hadn't noticed."

Adora looks him up and down, then says just above a whisper, "You haven't started yet?"

Bow and Glimmer share a chuckle, their nigh-telepathic bond running laps around Adora's own understanding.

Bow speaks as Glimmer continues winding down, "No, I'm going the other way, 'Dor. I've been on T for seven years now."

"O-oh." Adora has run out of words, surprise after surprise having drained her daily allotment. She tries to comment and finds herself unable as her mind retrospectively parses several events that once confused her.

Glimmer finally recovers from her giggle-fit, "Look, hun, the point is that we've always known. I'm pretty sure my parents know, too. Queer people have a way of finding each other, and once you've been around others long enough, you'll learn to pick up on the signals."

Bow nods. "Glim, you have 'Fuma's number, right? Maybe it'd be good for her to talk with someone that's, uh, been through kinda the same stuff?" His signature voice crack dampens the weight of his words a little, but Adora nods back regardless.

Glimmer lights up and pulls out her phone, and a few moments later Adora's phone dings, making her flinch again.

"Girl, you need to put that thing on silent. Bow, can you-" she cuts off, gesticulating wildly. Adora gets the memo, pulling out her phone and holding it by the corner as though cursed. Bow grabs it from her, flicks some hidden switch on the side, then hands it back.

"Now it just buzzes instead of that awful stock sound."

Adora handles the phone like a live grenade, accidentally throwing it at Bow when it vibrates.

After dinner, Adora flops backwards onto her otherworldly soft bed. She had finally worked up the courage to ask if they had any firmer mattresses a few weeks back, and Angella was more than willing to oblige. She came home after driving lessons to find it had been replaced with a brand new one, a gesture so touching she opted not to mention that it still wasn't firm enough.

She pulls out her phone, flicking the little switch Bow had showed her back and forth. She took a deep breath and messaged the contact Glimmer had sent her.

Adora: Hello! This is Adora, Glimmer gave me your number. I don't really know what she told you, exactly, but I'd like to talk.

Perfuma: Tally-ho, fellow adventurer! If you're here for a talk, you've come to the right place! Tales of glory, danger, and ADVENTURE await!

Adora looks down at her phone in disbelief, slow blinking. She tabs out of the conversation and messages Glimmer.

Adora: I didn't expect Perfuma to be such a vibrant character. 

Glim✨: yea, she can be a bit quirky lol
she goes on about tarot cards and divination and stuff al ot, i dont really get it
but shes really nice and easy to ta
lk to when shes not in that mode

She bats her eyes dramatically once again, scarcely believing an individual so 'quirky' could exist.

Adora: Right, so, I'm trans and I was told you might be able to help.

Perfuma?: Ah, my friend, I too am trans! Trans-continental, even! What can I help you with?

Adora takes a look at the phone number Glimmer had sent her, verifying this was indeed Perfuma - and, upon squinting, found that the last '8' was in fact a '3'. She facepalmed, then sent her final message.

Adora: Sorry, wrong number. Pleasant travels, I guess?

Not Perfuma: Ah, two wayward ships passing in the night. 'Twas fleeting, but it was an honor!

She blocks the number, then drafts a message to the correct one.

Adora: Hello, this is Adora. You're Perfuma, right? Glimmer told me that I should message you about trans stuff.

Nearly half an hour passes before she gets a response.

Perfuma🌸: Hi! Yes, Glimmer Told Me About You. How Long Have You Been On E?

Adora silently wonders if Not Perfuma is still available.

In the end, Adora comes to like Perfuma, despite the typing quirks slowly driving her insane. Adora learns a fair bit about the LGBT community. Adora had always internally hoped that she was a lesbian, but she chalked that up to the fact that the flag was kick-ass. She talked with Perfuma about it for a while, and they determined that she'd only ever had feelings for Cat - feelings that Perfuma encouraged her to act upon until discovering his 'stance' on the matter.

Perfuma also told her about various identities and such that the acronym didn't cover, strongly hinting that Adora might be asexual upon finding out that she'd never once considered sex in a positive light. The words turned to mush until, mercifully, Perfuma suggested that they both sleep.

When Adora wakes next, she has the house to herself. Bow and Glimmer were out shopping, apparently. She stretches, working her aching shoulder to atone for the plush mattress she subjected it to. She indolently trekked down the stairs, making her way to the kitchen to cook herself some eggs. Along the way, she spots an envelope at her usual chair, which she savagely opens upon noticing the sender.

Adora hums to herself as she finishes reading the letter, then half-heartedly drops it in the trash before continuing with her breakfast.

It wasn't my top choice, anyways.

And yet, it would be the first of many to come in the following weeks. CWU, BMU, SKU - each and every one had denied her application. With each letter, her heart dropped more and more. CWU and BMU hurt the most, being the colleges her two best friends attended - but when the final rejection came from SKU, well known for accepting almost everyone, she lost all hope.  

Bow was the only one she told about her rejection from CWU, or from any college, for that matter.
"It's really okay, Adora. They have really high standards, and tech's never really been your field, anyways." Bow offered that warm, grounding smile he always used, the one that never reached his eyes.

Adora tried to laugh it off, but the pain of failure cut deeper than she could mask.

"You're gonna be alright, Adora. You've got drive like no one I've ever met. Any college would be a fool not to have you." He patted her shoulder and his expression turned a bit more serious. "Promise me you won't give up?"

Adora looked him in the eyes as she lied.

Crestfallen from rejection, Adora began secluding herself. College had been her one shot at redemption, a chance to pay back the burden she cast on everyone that dared provide for her - and she'd failed even at that. Bow and Glimmer had been pestering her to reveal both what was plaguing her and the results of her college applications, though they knew better than to force the issue when she refused to answer.

The final straw came when Micah asked what she wanted for her coming birthday. She kept her face as stalwart as she could, said she'd give it some thought, and made plans to leave. 

Adora's messy handwriting, while not illegible, left a lot to be desired even on a good day. That night, her hands shook and her eyes failed her, dripping salty water on the ripped notebook page. Her words were vacant, accomplishing very little beyond shifting blame and making excuses. She wrenched her eyes from the page, instead making busy packing her backpack with her latent cash, medicine, and the few clothes she had. She quietly condemned herself for never purchasing a phone, but carried on. It was inconsequential at this point, regardless - what good is a phone without a home, without anyone to call? It's not like C▋▋▋▋ would ever want to talk to her again after she left - and Weaver would certainly never welcome her back.

Adora flinched at the door opening a ways down the hall - probably Rogelio - and expedited her packing. She had left behind far more than she would have liked, but there was no time left. She crumpled the pathetic goodbye note and shoved it in her pocket, then slipped out her dorm window, never to return.

Adora has until the following week to leave. She couldn't stick around for her birthday, she couldn't let them spend any more on her worthless self. She curses herself, unable to bear the shame of disappointing the family that had taken her in. She knows her behavior is starting to arouse suspicion, though she also knows that by the time it boiled over she would be long gone. She wouldn't leave a note this time. A text would have to be enough. 

She manages to endure three more days, then flees into the night once more.

Adora's phone remains off as a matter of principle, as she's unsure if the Brightmoons would be able to track her with it - assuming they even want to find her, that is. The bus led to Plumeria, though she honestly just boarded the first one she found going away. 

On the third bus, the weight of her decision finally descends upon her, though she holds her expression as she processes. She had cried too much for a lifetime, and all that had done was make people pity her. 

I'm supposed to be the one protecting others, and yet time and time again I force them to protect me. I thought I'd be able to pay it all back, I thought I'd be able to be someone, I thought I'd be able to help people, I thought I'd stop being so pathetic, and I failed. I failed everyone. I let Bow down, I wasted the Brightmoons' money, and... and I failed C▋▋▋▋. I failed C▋▋▋▋ each and every day I thought I was protecting him. He lived his life in misery while I thrived. I abandoned him.

I'm unworthy of anyone's love. Some protector I am.

Glim✨: where the hell are you??? 
mom and I are worried sick
please tell me you're okay

Adora tabs out of the conversation, cringing as she looks at the avalanche of missed calls and text notifications. She cycles through a few of the texts.

Angella🦋: Adora, we're very worried about you. Please call me back when you get the chance. I need to know you're safe. I love you.

micah🪄: adora, you're ok, right? i know you probably ran away from home, but i promise that whatever happened, its something we can work through
i love you

Bow🏹: Glimmer's saying you ran away. If you need someone to talk to about it, I'm here for you. I promise that I won't share anything without your permission. We care about you, Adora.

Her eyes grow red as she reads, tears threatening to spill out at any moment, but Adora clenches her fists and fights them back. She needs to be strong.

She decides to message Bow and Glimmer first.

BFS

Adora: I want to keep this brief, but I am leaving for good. I have failed you all, even if you won't say it.
Glimmer, I left some money at the foot of my bed for the applications.
Bow, I'm sorry for letting you down. I really wanted to go to CWU with you.

If she clenched her phone any harder, the screen would crack. Still, she is determined not to cry.

She messages Angella and Micah together.

Angella, Micah, and 1 other

Adora: I'm sorry I couldn't make you both proud. 
I'll be okay. Please don't come looking for me. It's better this way.

Then, she cried.

"A▋▋▋▋, can you go get that printout off the copier for me?"

"A▋▋▋▋, I need your timesheet by Sunday night."

"A▋▋▋▋, can you run this license number for me?"

It'd been eight days since she'd run away, and five since she'd started working. Her legal name sent a jolt of lightning through her the first few times, but she was growing to accept it. She was lucky to still be perceived as a woman as it was, the woman who hired her having been merciful enough to neglect the 'M' on her permit.

She's ripped from her contemplation as her beloathed enters the room. She barely holds back a groan, not even bothering to spin her chair around.

"Sup, A▋▋▋▋? Was wondering if you'd made a decision yet." Derrick is pushing 30, yet he was somehow shameless in his attempts to 'court' a teenager. It took everything in Adora not to slam his head against the filing cabinet.

Instead, she chuckled awkwardly. "Uh, yeah, I think I'm gonna have to pass this time. Not feeling super well right now." It wasn't untrue, but it definitely was pushing it given that he was the source of her discomfort.

He tsks, but keeps his voice level as he responds. "It's all good. Maybe some other time?"

When Adora doesn't reply, he quietly steps out of her office and waltzes down the hall, slapping the emergency exit sign along the way.

Maybe never, you freak.

As she packs up to leave for the day, she spots that cute blonde walking past her door.

"Oh, hey! P▋▋▋▋▋▋!" The girl jumps at her words, but relaxes upon seeing it's her. She steps into the office, leaning against the doorframe.

"Hi, A- uh, there." P▋▋▋▋▋▋ looks her up and down, then adds, "Red's a good color on you."

Adora beams, turning a little red, herself. "Thank you! I'm not used to wearing, uh, business casual, but this top is great!" She pointedly smooths out her blouse, an ounce of pride forming when she reaches the little ruffly things.

P▋▋▋▋▋▋ grins back. She had that same smile Bow always had, warm and welcoming. 

After an awkward silence, P▋▋▋▋▋▋ speaks again. "Hey, uh, would you want to maybe hang out some time? I think we might, um, have a lot in common." She winks and Adora feels her heart flutter. She'd never been hit on by a woman before, and stars, does it feel good. 

"Yeah! I'd love to, when are you free?" She probably should've toned down the excitement a bit, but she couldn't contain herself.

Thankfully, P▋▋▋▋▋▋ chuckles good-naturedly and responds, "I'm actually free right now, if you wanted to get dinner or something?"

Adora makes a squeak that might generously be considered a 'yes'.

Adora is sweating bullets, but she's happier than she's been in at least a month. The conversation flows easily, and Adora wonders how she ever thought herself to be straight. P▋▋▋▋▋▋ hardly opens her mouth and it's already the funniest thing she's ever heard.

She almost doesn't process it when P▋▋▋▋▋▋ fishes in her purse for a bottle of pills. Tiny, blue pills. Adora's eyes go wide.

"Oh... You're-?"

P▋▋▋▋▋▋ nods.

Adora checks her surroundings, then quietly says, "Me too."

"Oh, thank stars. I thought so, but you can never be too careful," she replies, "My real name's Perfuma."

For the second time in eight seconds, Adora's eyes widen.

"Y-you're Perfuma?" She then quickly adds, "I'm, uh, Adora. We texted for a bit."

It's Perfuma's chance to be shocked. "Wow. It must have been fated." Her smile melts Adora's heart.

A waitress walks up to take their order, looking more excited than service workers typically are. Adora raises an eyebrow, but orders something she's fairly certain has chicken in it. Perfuma gets something with beans, probably, though Adora's Spanish is far from perfect.

As the waitress goes to walk away, she smiles widely, saying "You two make such a cute couple, by the way!" and then skitters away.

Perfuma chokes on nothing. "Did," she coughs, "did she think that this was a date?" She tries to force a laugh, but it comes out raspy and soon she's coughing again.

Adora's face drops, her positive mood evaporating like a drop of water on the surface of the sun. Perfuma notices, and starts to panic.

"Oh my stars, you didn't- I didn't mean to lead you on, I'm so sorry. I just wanted to befriend another trans person, I... I'm pretty sure I'm like, six years older than you." Perfuma's eyes water, either from coughing or from the embarrassment, and that's enough to send Adora into protector mode. 

She forges a smile. "Hey, it's no worries! It's my fault for reading it wrong, I've just never, uh, dated before." 

Perfuma noticeably brightens at her lack of dismay, sending a wave of relief through Adora.

"Do you still want to be friends?" Perfuma asks in an almost rhetorical tone, which Adora takes as her cue to laugh and nod. 

---

As Adora settles into her (comfortably) stony mattress for the night, she decides to send Perfuma one last text.

Adora: By the way, would you mind not telling Glimmer or Bow that I'm here? I don't want them to worry about me.

Perfuma🌸: Of Course, Adora. No Worries At All.

Adora smiles in spite of her crushed hopes, turns her phone off for the night, and passes out.

She wakes up an hour and a half later to her phone buzzing nonstop. She glances at her screen to see several missed calls and messages, the most prominent of which reads:

UNKNOWN NUMBER: YOU'RE IN FUCKING PLUMERIA?? WHY AM I FINDING THIS OU...

The text cuts off, but she can imagine the rest - Glimmer was incapable of subtlety. She sighs, buries her phone in a spare blanket, and goes back to sleep.

The next morning, Adora doesn't even bother retrieving her phone as she sets out the door. Mercifully, it's Saturday, so she doesn't have to add work on top of all the new stress. She wanders down her street, trying to clear her head. Her usual coping mechanisms are absent and as such, she is going completely insane. 

She does the only logical thing she can think of: She heads to the local animal shelter. It's only a few blocks past her workplace - unfortunately, the sidewalk sharply slopes upward and Adora is out of shape. She arrives at the door, fittingly panting like a dog, and steps inside.

"Hi, I'd like to see about volunteering." She knows her voice is off-pitch, but she always has trouble controlling it after exercise.

A short old lady pokes her head up from behind the counter.

"Oh, you're just in time, dearie!" Her voice reminds her of a cartoon character, and-

Wait.

"Dearie?" she questions, hoping that she hadn't somehow grossly misheard her.

The woman waves her hand dismissively. "Pshh, everyone's a dearie when you get to my age. Come, come. This way." 

She grabs a broom and steps through a door, peeking her head back in to wave Adora forward when she doesn't immediately follow.

Stepping through the door, Adora is surprised to see less than half a dozen animals overall. There's a blue-ish dog with an impressive snout, two kittens and their mother (presumably), and a chinchilla? Notably, of the thirty or so cages present, over a third appear to be unlocked.

Adora's breath catches in her throat. "Uh, Ms..." She trails off.

"Madame Razz, dearie." she corrects, bapping her on the head with the end of her broom.

Adora clears her throat, "Madame Razz, are these... all the animals? And why are their cages open?"

Razz snickers. "Oh, Mara, silly. They need fresh air, how are they going to get that cooped up in here all day?"

Adora leans slightly to the right, finding an open doggy door leading outside. When she wanders closer she finds a nondescript alleyway, equipped with the mandatory two dumpsters and a discarded pizza box - and more importantly, no animals.

Something between rage and befuddlement releases as an enigmatic yowl from within her. She paces back and forth for a few moments, then steps back inside.

"When can I start?"

Chapter Text

As the world's shortest cop leads C▋▋▋▋ to the interrogation room, he spies Bow sitting in a chair in the lobby. It's strange, seeing him gripped by absolute terror - he was always the last one C▋▋▋▋ had expected to end up in this situation, and it was all this magicat's fault.

C▋▋▋▋ is roughly pushed through the wrought iron door into an empty room with a table and a few chairs. He takes a seat in the least munted chair, but it really isn't much of a comfort. He's seen cop shows, so he kind of knows how this whole process goes, though they usually cut out the part where the criminal waits for 36 damn minutes for the interrogators to show up.

As the door closes, before either cop can say anything, C▋▋▋▋ loudly pleads, "Bow had nothing to do with this. He's completely innocent, even if he is a fucking tool. Keep him out of this, and I'll be a lot more cooperative."

The cops look at each other for a second, then the man replies. "We know, kid. We just needed to ask him some questions about you."

C▋▋▋▋ sighs in relief, proceeding to remain utterly silent for the entire interrogation.

Half an hour later, he finally gets his phone call (he had forgotten to ask until now), and without even thinking, he dials Hordak. Normally, C▋▋▋▋ wasn't the type to remember phone numbers, but it wasn't hard to remember his dumb ass vanity phone number, because apparently being evil dictates that you must advertise. 

As per usual, he picks up on the last ring.

"Ah, little brother. I was expecting your call. I hear you got yourself into a conundrum - I suppose you expect me to help." His voice is toneless, as though spoken by a robot. Normally C▋▋▋▋ can read Hordak fairly well, but the man's thoughts entirely elude him this time.

C▋▋▋▋ grunts, "Yeah, yeah. If you hadn't given me so much product no one wanted, I wouldn't be in this fucking mess, so how about you pull your strings and get me out of here ASAP?"

Hordak laughs, a mirthless noise that grates on the ears. "You forget yourself, little brother. I did no such thing. Any error that might have occurred lies entirely with you."

C▋▋▋▋'s resolve bursts. "Oh, right, my bad, I guess I should've sold it to your mom so she could cope with how much of a disappointment you are. Or maybe I should've sold it to your underage girlfriend; I'm sure she could use a pick-me-up after taking seven classes this semester. I'll make sure to remember that for next time after you fucking hold up your end."

"As much as I would love to 'pull strings' for you, I'm afraid I have plenty of alternatives lying in wait, alternatives that are far more cooperative. If that's all, I'll be going now." 

"No. No! You can't fucking do this to me! After all I've done for you, you stab me in the back like a fucking coward? Fuck you." C▋▋▋▋ goes to hang up the phone, but a noise from Hordak cuts him off.

"-ought I should mention, I'll be sending a lawyer your way to keep you in line. Do play nice with them."

Click.

God fucking damnit.

C▋▋▋▋ stretches, his shoulder popping loud enough to echo. The other holding cells are mostly empty, he notes - though he supposes most people don't do hard crime on a school day. As he reclines on his 'bed', the hallway door opens and a cop starts fumbling with his keys.

"What's going on?" C▋▋▋▋ asks, a little worried something had gone wrong with Bow.

"Lawyer's here. Hands behind your back, I need to cuff you again."

C▋▋▋▋ complies begrudgingly, but apparently not quick enough, as the cop grabs him by the forearm and pulls him into position, his forehead knocking into a metal corner.

He attempts to spin to confront the shithead, but the grip on his arm is firm. After an agonizing few seconds, the cuffs are on and he's being led into the hallway, where a pastel green lizard with long blonde hair awaits - just the type he'd expect Hordak to associate with, honestly.

The three of them enter an interrogation room, and the cop locks the door behind him, telling the lawyer to knock twice when he's done.

When the lizard speaks, the voice catches C▋▋▋▋ completely by surprise.

"So, darling, have they been treating you alright? Hordak wouldn't want anything happening to his little pet, after all." 

The voice is salacious and smooth, lacking any edge or bite. It perfectly rides the line of androgyny, so logically, C▋▋▋▋'s first question is, "What are you?"

The lawyer laughs, "Me? I'm Daemon Torres, but you may call me DT - or 'Your Highness', whatever's comfortable."

C▋▋▋▋ snorts, motioning for the lizard to continue.

"You're going to have to be more specific, kitten."

The nickname quickly gets a rise out of C▋▋▋▋, his claws unsheathing audibly.
"Are you a man or a woman, fuckface?"

DT laughs condescendingly. "Whichever one would piss you off more, I suppose. You may refer to me with they and them."

C▋▋▋▋ goes to make a retort, but instead grits his teeth. "Fine, whatever. What the fuck is our plan here?"

DT stands up from against the wall, sauntering over to the table before taking a seat atop it. "Well, I was told to keep you quiet, but I can already tell that's not going to work. You're a feisty one, aren't you?"

C▋▋▋▋ remains silent.

"Touché. So, here's the thing: I don't want to have to put a lot of work in, and you don't want to go to jail, so how's about you just spill the beans on that old ice king of ours and get a plea deal?" They grin like a devil bargaining for a soul, twirling a finger through their (frankly gorgeous) hair. 

C▋▋▋▋ reclines in his seat, propping a leg up, trying his best to look nonchalant as his heart catches in his throat. "And why, exactly, would you help me fuck your boss over?"

DT flips their hair to the side and C▋▋▋▋ can't help but stare enviously. DT seems to notice, giving him a wink that definitely does not make him blush.

"Oooh, you're a cutie, aren't you? I cannot wait to watch your egg crack, darling." 

"Not even going to touch that. Just name your price." C▋▋▋▋ smirks in spite of himself.

DT cackles, "Oh, darling, you couldn't afford me." 

With each lewd joke and nickname, C▋▋▋▋'s tail thrashes more erratically, now pinging off of the table leg to his right. 

I have half a mind to... don't finish that thought.

C▋▋▋▋ stands, walks to the door, and all but shouts, "Just set up the fucking deal, stars." He pounds heavily on the door twice, and is happy to be escorted back to his cell.

The heat from their encounter lingers even as C▋▋▋▋ goes to bed for the night. DT had certainly had an effect on him, sure - but it isn't a gay thing. They look enough like a woman that C▋▋▋▋ got confused and that's all, right? If they aren't a man or a woman, it can't possibly be gay. C▋▋▋▋ is a boy man and they aren't, so it's heterosexual. 

He continues working through these gay matrices until, eventually, sleep comes.

C▋▋▋▋ awakens to the smell of citrus shampoo. He sneezes instantly, finding golden blonde hair blanketing his face. Part of him wants to smile, proud to have taken that lawyer down a peg, but the rest of him just feels uneasy. Still, it's the coziest he's felt in a long time, so he's going to milk this for as long as he can. 

His tail moves with a mind of its own, running up and down the length of his partner's calves and thighs, eventually settling on their wrist. So what if he has a reputation to uphold - he's allowed to be cute and sweet sometimes, damnit. As if on cue, that traitorous vibration starts forming in the back of his throat, and while he does his best to cull it, the low rumbling prompting him to bury himself even deeper in his partner's immaculate hair. He never wants to leave this silky, golden mess.

After what feels like an hour passes in the blink of an eye, DT finally starts to wake up. C▋▋▋▋ keeps his arms wrapped around them, refusing to let them move even as they start to squirm.

"Cat, come on, let go!" The voice commands, laughing like nothing else in the world matters. They manage to break free from his grab for long enough to flip their position and start straddling C▋▋▋▋'s hips, but when he opens his eyes, he does not find DT.

Adora stops in an instant, all excitement vanishing as C▋▋▋▋ goes limp beneath her.

"Cat? Are you- what's wrong, babe?" Her voice, despite all the pain it brings him to hear, still grounds him, still manages to pull him back from the brink of panic like a salve to her woes. 

Adora nudges a kiss into C▋▋▋▋'s hair, sending a chilling wave down his spine. She sits a little further up, staring into his eyes with a gaze that dances on the edge of desperation.

Her eyes water slightly as that villainous smile threatens to do him in. 

"Hun, please. You can talk to me. I love you."

The words paralyze C▋▋▋▋ as a warmth he'd never known fights its way through his veins. Adora grabs his left hand and lifts it to her lips, kissing it gently like a chivalrous knight. 

Worry eagerly leaves his mind at the gesture, and he smiles back. "Shouldn't our roles be reversed?"

Adora looks at her with a look of pure, undeniable love, and whispers, "You'll always be my princess, Cat."

Cat's eyes go wide as Adora runs a hand through his- her hair, stopping at the base of her ears to scritch there, softly, like she always used to. Cat can't bring herself to speak, the warmth of the situation neatly filling all the gaps in her heart left by centuries of rust and decay.

Adora places a kiss on Cat's forehead, whispering in a dulcet tone, "Good girl."

C▋▋▋▋ bolts awake, slamming his head into the empty bunk above him hard enough to put stars in his eyes. 

He claws at the sheet beneath him in an attempt to ground himself. It was all just a dream. A horrible, fucked up dream. Thank stars.

He can't explain why his eyes start to water as he forces his mind to repeat Thank stars.

C▋▋▋▋ isn't terribly surprised when he's escorted to a private room to speak with his lawyer, though he can't shake the uncomfortable memory of the dream. His cheeks are practically glowing as he enters.

DT raises an eyebrow that C▋▋▋▋ counters with a glare. DT puts a hand to their chest, as if offended, then motions for him to shut the door.

"So, kitty, I've got some good news and some bad news. We both know you want the bad news first, so here it is: you're going to have to do community service. A lot of it. 500 hours, to be exact." They barrel through their clearly rehearsed lines, denying C▋▋▋▋ an opportunity to retort. "The good news is that the prosecution has agreed to a plea deal in exchange for everything you've got on Hordak. You ran numbers for him, right?"

C▋▋▋▋ finally gets a word in, "Yeah, just a-"

DT claps their hands together, breaking C▋▋▋▋'s train of thought. "Lovely, darling. Was worried I'd told a fib. So, you might be wondering about the community service part - and as much as it pains me to say this, kitten, it was either this or going to trial."

He stirs this information in his brain for a bit. He really doesn't know shit about the legal system, but it seems outright stupid to let a drug dealer back onto the streets just because they ratted.

"I don't buy it. What's the catch?" C▋▋▋▋ does his best to look stoic as he leans back against the wall, mirroring DT's posture.

DT beckons him closer with a blatantly [charged] gesture and C▋▋▋▋'s feet start moving before he even realizes it. When he's close enough to make out the pores on DT's face, they reach out a hand and tilt his chin upwards, delicately running a finger along the underside of his jaw. They lean in close as C▋▋▋▋'s heart threatens to explode.

"You won't survive." C▋▋▋▋ breaks from his trance and recoils at the threat as DT laughs maniacally.

They motion as though wiping a tear from their eye, then explain, "You're so easy to rile up, I couldn't resist. Prosecution's been swamped with cases lately and just took the first thing I offered. I was going to haggle for you, but he didn't even give me the chance." DT pouts dramatically.

C▋▋▋▋ all but yells, "You couldn't have started a little lower?!?" His claws come out as he presses towards DT, startling them back a step.

DT looks down at him, reading his eyes for a short while. They seem to dismiss the threat altogether, regaining their composure entirely. "Take what you can get, kitten. If you want to go to trial, be my guest. I'm sure the jury would acquit a feral that dealt drugs to college students."

He grimaces, which DT seems to take as acceptance.

It's been nearly a month since anything interesting happened to C▋▋▋▋. He's not blind to the irony - the only reason he's been stuck in this stupid jail cell is because he has no friends left to pay his bail. Still, he had hoped that Bow would at least visit him. 

Maybe he did rat me out after all.

That thought has been drifting through his head the past few weeks, as well, and he's no more comfortable with that likely reality than he was when it first occurred to him. He acknowledges that he sort of deserves it now, but he's still bitter about it. He supposes that his transphobia (as Bow had called it) and drug dealing together made for a bridge too far.

As if on cue, though, a guard enters to unlock his cell. She mumbles the word "visitor" and steps over to put cuffs on his wrists, a motion he'd since grown used to. As C▋▋▋▋ is led through the halls, he contemplates what he'll say to Bow - there's no point in lying now, so he might as well just convey his need for money. 

And yet, when he steps foot into the visitor's room, he doesn't see his former roommate behind the plexiglass.

"Entrapta?" he asks, incredulous that she even remembered he existed. 

The guard motions to the seat, then removes his cuffs. C▋▋▋▋ had been generally compliant thus far, a fact that earned him some slight measure of trust - such as being trusted to cross the room unaided. Yippee.

He sits down as the door closes behind him, then activates the microphone.

Before he can speak, Entrapta takes the lead. "Hello C▋▋▋▋! I hope that you don't mind, but I would like to collect some data on what life has been like in this facility!" Her smile lacks any trace of falsity, as usual.

C▋▋▋▋ drops his head to the table edge, the sharp corner hurting a bit more than intended. 

"Gee, it's good to see you, too, Entrapta." C▋▋▋▋ mumbles with as much sarcasm as he can muster, knowing it still won't be enough to get through to her.

When he sits back up, Entrapta is tilting her head like a confused dog. "Is now not a good time?"

C▋▋▋▋ laughs. "Yeah, I'm gonna be late for my dinner with the president in half an hour."

"I don't appreciate your use of sarcasm. I am merely trying to be considerate, please be patient with me."

That catches C▋▋▋▋ by surprise. In all the time he'd known her, Entrapta had never once called him out on his sarcasm. He's so caught by surprise, in fact, that he finds himself apologizing.

"Sorry. Just... forgot how blunt you could be."

Her smile returns and her head straightens. "It's okay! I am happy to see that your anger issues are improving."

C▋▋▋▋ nearly snarls in response, but catches himself before he disproves her compliment, so he just nods.

"Hordak informed me of your imprisonment, and I thought it would be nice to check in on you - and collect some data while I'm at it. I rarely get to speak to the incarcerated."

The name builds fire behind C▋▋▋▋'s eyes. "Oh, did he now? Well, I'm so relieved daddy cared enough to tell you about me." He knows for a fact his tone is far harsher than it should be and can't bring himself to care.

Entrapta's head tilts again. "I have not spoken with my father in years, C▋▋▋▋."

There she was, back to her usual, naive self. "Hordak. Because he's old enough to be your father," he scathes. 

The look of confusion doesn't leave her face. Quizzically, she responds, "I find that highly unlikely. He would have been two years old when I was conceived."

What?

Entrapta takes C▋▋▋▋'s confusion as a sign to elaborate. "C▋▋▋▋, I am 26 years old."

TWENTY-SIX???

C▋▋▋▋ is so flabbergasted he can't even react. All he manages to say is "Oh," sotto voce.

Entrapta returns to her smile. "So, if we may begin, would you mind telling me about the amenities you have been provided?"

At last, the day of the trial arrives. All-in-all, it only took about six weeks from intake to get to this point, but that was far longer than C▋▋▋▋ had ever intended to spend in jail. As he steps into the courtroom, he's a little shocked to see only two people in the room. DT sits with their legs crossed at a small wooden table, winking at him as he enters. At the back of the room, the most nondescript judge possible sits. If someone told C▋▋▋▋ to picture a judge in his head prior to this moment, it would have been indistinguishable from this one.

C▋▋▋▋ takes a seat beside DT, who quickly whispers in his ear, "Be a good girl for me and keep quiet, hm?"

His face heats up - in anger - but he knows better than to sabotage this chance.

The judge calls the room to order, even though everyone already was in order. DT is given the chance to speak first.

"Your honor, the prosecution and defense have arranged a plea deal of 500 hours of community service in exchange for a guilty plea and information that would lead to the arrest of Hordak, alleged kingpin of the 'Horde', a prominent illicit substance supplier."

The judge pretends to read over the various signed documents, then looks up and clears her throat. "I am going to question you about the facts of the crime alleged-" C▋▋▋▋'s brain turns off as she rattles on for nearly a full minute before finishing with, "Do you understand all that?"

C▋▋▋▋ is sweating bullets, though he forces himself to give a coherent response. "I do, your honor."

"Very well. Let's begin the questioning."

For the next half-hour, C▋▋▋▋ is interrogated on several seemingly random pieces of his life - name, age, schooling, and about a billion other things. At one point, he's asked if he trusts his attorney, which he almost laughs at before responding affirmatively. 

It turns out to be an exhausting, humiliating experience, being talked down to by a judge who seems to see him as a toddler that can't think for himself. The word "understand" is spoken at least fifty times and C▋▋▋▋ is growing to despise the word.

Finally, after an agonizing eternity, the judge accepts the plea.

C▋▋▋▋ is then led to an office and forced to sign several thousand papers, agreeing to whatever they throw in front of him at this point as he's far too exhausted to care. He's told that he will be brought in at a later date to provide the evidence promised in the plea deal, and that he'll be under the state's protection upon doing so. 

C▋▋▋▋ goes to gather his belongings before leaving, but realizes that he only had his phone on him at the time of the arrest upon seeing just his clothes in the locker. He retrieves his phone from the front desk and is unsurprised to find it dead. He pulls the slip of paper DT gave him out of his pocket and drops by the landline to make a call.

45 minutes pass without his ride arriving. In the meantime, he's asked six or seven strangers for a charger to no avail, the look of pity they give him pissing him off more and more each time. In a fit of rage, he throws his phone in the nearest outdoor trash can and revels in the sound of glass shattering.

"C▋▋▋▋ Dreelooth? De-rill-ooth?" an overly-cheery woman's voice calls. "Agh, I knew I should've practiced."

C▋▋▋▋ turns to his right to see a scorpioni woman standing at least six and a half feet tall smiling down at him nervously. 

She runs one claw through her bleached white hair and extends the other. "Hi, I'm Scorpia. Yeah, I know, my moms aren't very creative. I'm your new best friend!"

C▋▋▋▋ sighs.

Chapter Text

The money Adora catalogues far exceeds anything she'll ever see in her lifetime, a fact that brings her much chagrin as she works. Her desk phone rings, breaking her concentration. She's quick to put a hand on the receiver, but pauses when she realizes it's not Perfuma's number. She calms herself, breathes deeply, and then presses the phone to her ear.

"Hello? Ad- This is A▋▋▋▋ Grace speaking."

The voice on the phone is stern, almost cold. "Ms. Grace, you are needed in my office immediately. Thank you."

There's a click, and then the line goes dead.

Adora's arrival is less than immediate, mostly due to the six or seven minute panic attack she had in the bathroom after the call. When she finally makes it down the hall and knocks on the door, she winces at the frustrated huff she hears. She interprets it as "come in, already" and pushes the door open.

Hope is sitting at her broad wooden desk (maple, if Adora had to guess), staring impatiently in her direction. Adora closes the door behind her and steps further into the room, trying her hardest not to cower at Hope's intimidating appearance. She wears uncannily straight, mid-back-length silver hair, which, accompanied by her fierce gray-blue eyes and signature cerulean designer robe, gives off an air of near-divinity. Her slender dark fingers dance upon her desk, thundering like a war drum in Adora's ears, while the other hand cradles a small framed picture. When Adora finally makes it to the desk, Hope motions to the white leather armchair. There's a dust cover on the cushion that Adora doesn't really know what to do with, so she merely sits atop it, which thankfully doesn't seem to annoy the CEO. 

Adora watches Hope write in a notepad for a few moments, the tension building as she awaits her impending termination - or execution, if her coworkers were to be believed.

Hope hastily closes her notebook. Without even looking up, she says, "You are being promoted. The details of your promotion shall be sent to you via email."

Time was, Adora's jaw would've dropped; now, she merely nods. She can't get a good read on the CEO, though she doesn't seem displeased, at the very least.

Hope raises one hand to halt Adora from exiting the room, presumably, something she had no intention of doing until dismissed. "I have been impressed with your performance thus far. If you continue to focus on your work and push through the growing pains, you will find yourself rising in this company quickly. You have drive that the others do not and it has not gone unnoticed."

Adora briefly smiles, then nods again. 

Gently, Hope sets the picture frame on her desk, angled just enough that Adora can make out a picture of a tan woman in a tiara. She knows better than to comment, but Hope catches her glance.

"Nobody," she offers brusquely.

The look she gives the picture doesn't seem very platonic to Adora, but she's not about to call her boss gay and get fired.

Hope looks her in the eyes, almost worriedly, then finishes with, "You are dismissed. Maintain your dedication."

Adora salutes, like an idiot, then swiftly walks out of the office and back to her desk.

The promotion is an attempt to get her to quit, she quickly decides. Over a week has passed since the news, and her workload has at least tripled. She was more than happy to hide in her office and keep to herself, considering the whole Derrick situation - and now she has to hound her coworkers for timesheets and deal with their misogynistic comments all the while, because of course she's the asshole for asking that they put their work hours in a spreadsheet once a week. Where she used to come home tired but fulfilled, she now struggles to stay awake on the six-block walk home before passing out without dinner. All that for an extra $2.33 an hour.

Adora had honestly managed her stress better when she was homeless. At least then, she had hope she'd get back on her feet some day. Now the only light she can see at the end of the tunnel is the chance that Hope gets hit by a bus.

Stars, why did I think that?

She digs her nails into her forearm as she feels the panic start to set in again.

Only thirty-five minutes before I can leave.

As if on cue, she hears a knock on her door.

"Sup, A▋▋▋▋ - hey, anyone ever tell you your name sounds like a dude's name?"

Fucking. Derrick. Her blood boils, threatening to erupt in a pyroclastic spray of crimson. 

She screams at him, "Shove it up your fucking ass, Derrick. If I wanted to be negged by a pedophile I'd go back to the shelter. Why don't you-"

"A▋▋▋▋? You alright? You look tense?"

Adora breaks free from her daydream to see him standing over her, analyzing her face as though she weren't just thinking about castrating him with a pencil sharpener.

She takes a deep breath. "I'm fine, Derrick," she says with the least malice she can muster.

"You sure? You look-" Derrick raises an eyebrow as she cuts him off.

"I said I'm fine. Please, just leave me alone right now."

He whistles. "Sheesh. Alright, I'm going." When he thinks he's out of earshot, she can hear him mutter something about periods.

Adora unplugs her desktop and storms out the door and through the lobby. She thunders down the sidewalk to her apartment, her phone clenched in her hand so tight it hurts. The malaise builds with each step and she knows she won't be able to make it to her apartment before breaking down. She vaguely hears someone calling her name and starts into a sprint, ducking into her building and rushing up the steps two at a time. She gets to her door and fumbles with her key, but the footsteps are right behind her and she's not going fast enough. She finally swings the door open and slams it behind her, catching a glimpse of a pink sandal in the hallway at the last possible second. She locks the door and braces herself against the off-white countertop ringing her kitchen. 

She hears a knock at the door and nearly sobs. She just wants to be alone.

"Adora?" comes the voice.

In the moment, she doesn't even process that her real name has been said, she just slides to the floor and lets the back of her head thump against the drawer behind her. 

"Go away," she mutters weakly.

There's a pause. "Adora, it's going to be alright. It's Perfuma - please open the door, I don't think you should be alone right now."

Adora sits for another eternity, but meanders to the door and undoes the lock. A few moments later, the door slowly squeaks open. She hears more than sees Perfuma plop to the floor beside her.

"Hey, it's alright. I'm here for you. What do you normally do to calm down?" Perfuma's voice still has that calm, warm lilt to it, yet there's a concerned bite to it that mitigates the usual effect. Of course she pities her.

When Adora doesn't respond, Perfuma's look turns melancholic for a tick before determination overtakes it.

With the gentlest voice she'd ever heard, Perfuma asks, "Can I give you a hug?"

Adora holds back a sob, but nods. Measured arms encase her lithe frame, bringing her chin to rest on Perfuma's shoulder. It feels safe; it feels homely, but it doesn't feel like-

"I miss him," she's surprised to hear herself say.

Perfuma tightens her grip. "I know, Adora."

After an extended floor comfort session, Perfuma offers to stay to keep Adora company for a little while. Adora feels awful for having interrupted her day as much as she already has, but Perfuma insists, offering to watch a movie of her choice on Netflix.

An expedited scavenger hunt for the wi-fi password later, the two of them sit on Adora's 'new' secondhand couch that Razz insisted she take. Perfuma's laptop screen is far from ideal in size, but they make it work. Adora confesses her lack of knowledge of movies in general, so Perfuma simply selects one she likes and relaxes.

"Glimmer keeps calling to ask how you're doing."

Adora looks anywhere but at Perfuma, suddenly focused on the movie she'd ignored for the past hour. 

Perfuma is nothing if not persistent, so she tries again. "She misses you. They all do."

Adora nods.

Perfuma ends up leaving shortly after the movie finishes, seemingly convinced that Adora is no longer a danger to herself. She gives her one last hug before she goes, and then Adora is alone again.

Adora forces herself out of bed early the next morning, slipping on a ratty hoodie and jeans before slipping out the door. The streets are fairly empty, what with it being both Saturday and 5:15 AM, so she takes her time walking the blocks to the shelter. Razz tends to open at dawn on the weekends so she can close up early, something that had yet to be a factor for Adora as she had grown used to sleeping in when she could. 

She pushes the door open and doesn't immediately spot Razz, something that always scares the living shit out of her. Adora peeks around the corner into Razz's office and finds her dancing jovially with her broom, surprisingly limber for her age. 

"Madame Razz?" She calls.

Razz takes it in stride, spinning on the spot and not appearing the least bit embarrassed. Adora supposes that once you get to that age, it takes a lot to shame you.

"Adora, dearie! You're here on time, for once!"

Adora shakes her head with a smile on her face. "What's the occasion?"

Razz looks at her quizzically, uttering a rushed "Hmm?"

She starts, "The da-"

"Oh, yes, yes! It's Mara's birthday! She's coming to visit for dinner, it's been too long!" She beams, passing her broom to the other hand with a little flourish.

"Who's Mara?"

Either Razz doesn't hear her, or doesn't feel like answering. 

"Razz?" she tries again.

Like a flash of lightning, Razz bonks her on the head with her improvised weapon.

She's absolutely indignant as she corrects, "It's Madame Razz, Mara!"

Adora rolls her eyes at the misnaming - something she has noticed the old woman tends to do when excited or otherwise preoccupied. 

"Come over for dinner, dearie. Mara would love to meet you. You're just her type!" Razz... jokes? Adora turns bright red, regardless. 

She starts to turn down the offer, but Razz hits her with the sad old lady eyes and she folds instantly.

"Sure, I guess. Where-" she begins, but Razz is already celebrating.

"Yes, yes, you'll help make the pie like you promised. Don't think I forgot. I have a mind like a seal trap," she interjects. Adora neglects to mention that she butchered the expression.

Instead, she just smiles - she's used to it, at this point.

When the day winds down at around 3PM, Razz is quick to lead her back to her apartment - which she had neglected to mention was just upstairs. It's a studio, and the bulk of the room is threadbare, but the kitchen is immaculate. Razz digs in a cupboard and slaps a ceramic bowl on the counter so hard Adora worries it will crack, but it ends up hanging on just fine. 

Razz makes Adora get the flour for her so she doesn't have to get her ladder again, being only a little over four feet tall. A white cloud billows from the bowl as Razz pours, stopping at some arbitrary point to make Adora return the flour. A bit of honey butter and a pinch of salt are thrown in, and by the time Adora has put the flour back, a ball of dough rests in front of her. Razz wraps it in plastic wrap in an instant then throws it in the fridge.

"We'll give that an hour to chill. In the meantime, we can make the filling!" 

It's endearing to see Razz so energetic about anything, and although Adora supervises far more than she actually helps, the pie goes into the oven in no time. Razz invites Adora over to the couch and turns on a Hallmark movie, something about a woman losing her dog - Adora stops paying attention when the love interest shows his face. 

The pie ends up coming out of the oven golden brown and Adora has to hold herself back from tasting it. Razz must catch her hungry eyes, because soon she's being whacked with yet another broom. Adora runs away, laughing as Razz gives chase. 

After a minute of that, Razz gets tuckered out and plops onto the couch to watch her terrible movie. Adora sits beside her and finds herself getting invested - specifically, in the fact that the protagonist has far more chemistry with the best friend character. She curses the heteronormative nature of the movie in jest and is surprised when Razz agrees with her. 

As the movie winds down, Adora glances to the clock and begins to worry. It's nearly 7pm and there has been no sign of Mara thus far. The pie sits on a little specialized pie warmer thing on the stove, so it's not going to waste or anything, but Adora is worried Razz had gotten her days mixed up.

She prods a little, as subtly as she can manage. "Hey, Madame Razz, when did you say Mara was going to get here?"

Razz's expression dies on the spot. She looks to the door and pouts.

"She's probably not coming. She never does anymore. To think, Mara has outgrown her poor old mother."

She turns to Adora, who's trying her best to offer comfort.

"I'm sad she couldn't make it again, but with you here, it's almost like she was."

Adora hugs her.

Adora is unfortunately unsurprised when she's called into Hope's office the following Monday. Part of her wants to blow up at her for the mental breakdown she caused, but Adora knows she's lucky to have this job to begin with. So she bites her tongue as she enters the room, taking a seat in front of the hefty desk and waiting to be acknowledged. 

An eon passes without so much as a solitary glance. Finally, Adora coughs pointedly, and only then does Hope look at her.

"Ah, Adora. I didn't hear you come in, my apologies. To get down to business: you left twenty-nine minutes ahead of your shift ending on Friday. I don't need to tell you that this is unacceptable - you're an intelligent young girl, I know you can see how this reflects poorly on the company. Ensure it doesn't happen again, as this is your only warning." Hope's words are startlingly bland, devoid of emotion like a corporate machine. 

Adora has to fight to keep her jaw in place. "I take it you don't care to find out why I left in such a hurry?"

Adora can swear she spies the tiniest eye-roll from her boss, who then says, "Irrelevant."

She fumes. Her orders had over-encumbered Adora to the point of a mental breakdown and yet she refuses responsibility like a wretched toddler. Adora's mind races with comebacks, insults, resignation letters - but instead, what she asks is: "Why do you have a picture of Mara on your desk? Do you know where she is?"

Hope's pupils dilate at the name, although her face remains impassive. 

Adora presses on. "I spent all Friday evening with Madame Razz making a pie and preparing to celebrate her birthday - and she never showed up. Razz told me she never shows up anymore. If you know where she is, I need to-" she cuts herself off as she spots sprouts of tears in Hope's eyes. "What? I don't understand what the issue is, I just refuse to let Razz spend another year without seeing her daughter. Can you just..." she motions her hand in a circular motion, prompting Hope to speak. "Who was she to you, at least?"

Hope looks towards the ceiling, the first time Adora has ever noticed her intentionally averting her gaze. After a deep breath, she starts, "I only tell you this because I can feel her yelling at me." Adora tilts her head in confusion. Hope continues, "Mara was my friend. She had drive and heart like no other, a gallant hero if ever there was one. We balanced each other well, my calculating and risk-averse manner bringing stability to her life, and her courage bringing needed change to mine. However... last we spoke, we fought grievously. Our friendship is no more." She sighs, pressing a palm to her chin, her fingers partially obscuring her mouth and nose. 

"You were in love." Adora posits without thinking. She immediately stiffens in terror. "Shit, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have- uh..."

"Yes," Hope cuts in softly, "we were."

Adora stands, bouncing on her toes. "Well, it's not too late. You can win her back, I just know it! You two were perfect for each other, clearly, don't let one fight ruin it all!" She's not sure where her energy comes from, but it's too late to take it back when Hope's expression remains somber.

Wordlessly, her boss stands and walks over to the faux-fireplace, grabbing an urn off the mantle and trodding back over. She delicately places it upon the desk in front of Adora. She stares in Adora's direction, her gaze stiff and unrelenting.

"It is too late."

After work, Adora collapses on her bed and screams into her lumpy pillow.

She's thankful she wasn't fired, of course, but she knows she'll never be able to look her boss in the eyes again. She runs the conversation over and over again in her head.

Ah, Adora. I didn't hear you come in, my apologies.

Adora groans, just as a revelation enters her mind.

She called her Adora.

She whips out her phone and texts Perfuma.

Hey, did you tell Hope to call me Adora?

Perfuma🌸: No, Why?

Did She Say As Much?

No, she just called me it in her office earlier. I don't understand how she knew or why she's using it.

Perfuma🌸: Did She Say It In A Transphobic Sense?

I don't think so, she was pretty casual about it.

Perfuma🌸: I Suggest You Talk To Her About It. Do You Have Her Number?

Ugh. Yeah. I'll give her a call. Thanks.

Perfuma🌸: Take care, Adora.

Adora grabs her notebook off the counter and calls the number on the inner cover.

"He-"

"Hi, Hope, it's A- Adora. Why did you call me that?" She knows she's being impatient, but fear takes the wheel.

"Call you what?"

"Adora. My actual name."

Hope pauses. "I had assumed that was what you preferred to be called. Was that assumption incorrect?"

Hope's nonchalance is starting to throw her off. "Yes- no- I prefer to go by Adora, yes. How did you learn that?" 

"I still keep in touch with my mother-in-law, you know."

Adora's brain is putty, so she quickly tabs out to google what a mother-in-law is - though Hope beats her to it.

"Razz. My fiancee's mother." She sounds a little defeated, or maybe disappointed.

"Oh. Right. Uh, it's not going to be an issue, is it?" Adora intends for it to come across as a threat, but her voice is incapable of achieving such things.

She can practically see Hope's dead expression as she responds, "No."

"Good."

Adora hangs up with her heart in her throat. She goes to message Perfuma back with an 'all-clear', yet finds her finger hesitating over the contact just above.

She unblocks the number, hitting call before she can change her mind. It picks up after the first ring.

"Hey," the voice nonchalantly says. "How's it going, Adora? They been feeding you over there?"

Adora smiles, immediately knowing she made the right choice. "Nothing but gravel. Not even the good kind, either."

Micah chuckles. "Maybe you'd be a fan of Angella's cooking after all."

"I have standards, dad," she responds without realizing.

She hears Micah choke from over the phone. "I, uh... I've really missed you. You know I - we - love you a lot, right? You're not bothering us when you call, I promise that we- it's good to hear from you." His voice is raw and packed with an unfamiliar, sorrowful emotion.

Adora doesn't cry, but it's a struggle. "I know. I love you, too. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner. I just needed to do this for myself, I didn't want anyone to try to force me to come back."

Micah composes himself before speaking again - she can practically see him straightening his back and clasping his hands. "I know, honey. We just want you to be okay."

They talk for nearly an hour. The phone is passed off to Angella and Glimmer both - the latter of which is absolutely livid at first, but eventually gives way to relief.

Before she knows it, she's been roped into dinner with the Best Friend Squad the coming Friday. Glimmer assured her that it was mandatory, but that she could pick the restaurant if she really wanted to, which Adora declined, knowing full-well her sister already had a place in mind.

It's this knowledge that carries her through the rest of the week. That, and the fact that Hope reduced her tasking significantly. It's still more work than before her promotion, but certainly less overwhelming. She supposes her breakdown turned enough heads to warrant preventing a repeat, for once immensely grateful for her anxiety.

Friday rolls around in no time. They 'agree' to eat at a local noodle shop, though it's clear Glimmer just missed it from the last time she visited Perfuma.

Adora arrives 40 minutes early, preserving their table and drinking two full cups of water as the waiter starts to grow concerned.

As the clock strikes six, Glimmer breaches the door and tackles her in a hug, while Bow awkwardly shuffles in behind.

"Holy shit, girl, it's been too long. How are you doing, sis?" Glimmer's still laying it on thick with the gender-affirming language, Adora notes, but she finds it endearing that her sister cares so much. 

Bow gives her a hug, after, a gentle reprieve from the overbearing familial love.

After they order, Adora sets to catching the two of them up on everything that has gone on in her life the past several weeks. It had mostly been covered over the phone, but it's comfortable conversation nonetheless.

Bow chimes in every now and then with an update on his schoolwork, which still stings a little, but she's mostly just happy for him. 

Glimmer uses the opportunities to complain about her own college situation, primarily revolving around her roommate. "She's a slob! She hasn't even fucking touched the wet wipes I bought!"

Bow chuckles, earning her ire. "And this guy," Glimmer says, motioning to Bow, "gets to have a room all to himself as a freshman!"

Adora raises an eyebrow at that. "I thought your roommate was..." she starts, not wanting to finish.

Glimmer covers her mouth as Bow wilts. "Shit. I forgot you didn't know yet. Bow, could you, uh-"

It clearly pains him to say it, but he forces it out as barely more than a whisper. "C▋▋▋▋ got arrested for selling cocaine on campus." 

Adora screeches, her soul leaving her body. "HE FUCKING WHAT?"

Bow and Glimmer wince. "It's a long story. He got kicked out and I haven't heard from him since."

Adora lets her head drop to the table.

"How's your new roommate?"

Scorpia snips her claws awkwardly, crimping the fabric of her blouse. "He's, uh, he's a character! Not sure where he gets all that energy from, he's a wildcat, alright! Snarls like one, too."

"Scorpia, that's racist. You can't call him that." Perfuma attempts to convey herself earnestly, but Scorpia's dopey smile forces her to break into one, as well.

She deflates, then comes back just as quickly. "Sorry! I'll workshop it!" After a brief recoil, she adds, softer, "You're not mad at me, are you?"

Perfuma sighs and shakes her head, waving the issue away with her hand. "Is he still looking for a place to get his community service in?"

Scorpia bobs her head like her neck were a spring. Perfuma raises an eyebrow, realizing she might have a crush on this dork. "Didn't look cool? My bad. Anyways, yeah, but he said he's trying to avoid trash pickup at all costs."

"My coworker just started volunteering at a local place, I could send you a link, if you'd like. It'd be a bit out of your area, but it seems chill - she really likes it so far." Perfuma fishes in her bag for a notepad or something to write on, but ultimately makes a mental note to text it to her later.

"That'd be awesome! I'm sure he'll love... whatever it is!"

Chapter Text

"C'mon Wildcat, just give it a try. Who knows, you might love it!"

C▋▋▋▋ snarls at Scorpia, raking her claws through the air as a threat. "You put that thing near me and you're losing a limb!" He pauses. "And stop calling me that!"

Scorpia chuckles. "Such a feisty little guy. You know you've gotta eat your greens if you wanna grow strong!" She flexes, as though that proves a point.

"Magicats are obligate carnivores!" When Scorpia's face remains listless, he sighs. "It means we only need to eat meat, you dolt."

"Everyone can eat lima beans!" Scorpia insists. C▋▋▋▋ kicks her shin under the table - unfortunately, Scorpia is far too built to even stagger.

Scorpia picks up a spoon, shovels a few beans on, and drives it towards him. Thankfully, without airplane noises this time. C▋▋▋▋ swats it away and stands up, walking away from the table and stomping off to his room. He slams the door shut, flopping roughly onto his bed and dinging his shoulder on the tennis ball he'd been throwing against the ceiling earlier. 

He has about two more days of freedom until he has to start on his community service. Scorpia, as annoying as she could be, is covering rent and utilities for the time being, so he doesn't have to get a job on the side just yet. Now, if only she'd tell him what the fucking job was - she insisted that it had to be a surprise, and that he'd 'love it when he saw it'. Not like he'd be able to do anything about it, of course, but a heads up would go a long way. Probably.

C▋▋▋▋ digs the ball out from under his arm and starts throwing it in the air again, having found no better way to kill time without a phone. He'd been shockingly reliant on it prior to his arrest, spending nearly all his free time scrolling something or other. Scorpia had been quick to suggest some hobbies for him to pick up in the wake of that, though C▋▋▋▋ was hesitant to do anything with the loudmouthed idiot. They'd likely go to a bar just once and she'd scream at the top of her lungs that her 'best friend' had just gotten out of jail.

That's another thing that keeps nibbling at his psyche - the fact that Scorpia is so quick to claim him as a best friend despite how off-putting he's trying to be. He's threatened to kill her no less than five times in just as many days, and each time she laughed it off.

Come to think of it, Adora did the same thing when C▋▋▋▋ went through his first rebellious phase. He'd shoved, scratched, and even bit her - and yet she remained his friend.

Guess I'm just really easy to pity.

It still feels weird referring to Adora the way he does, but by stars is it less confusing than trying to willfully call... that a man, especially after that dream.

He tosses the ball a little too hard and it plinks off the ceiling at an odd angle, rolling into the corner of the room. C▋▋▋▋ sighs, but doesn't bother going after it. He can be alone with his thoughts for a bit.

"Stars, Scorpia, could you drive any slower?" C▋▋▋▋ hurls the barb without thought and groans as she actually lets off the gas pedal even more. "I was being sarcastic. You drive like you're 87."

Scorpia barely glances over, a worried expression displaying prominently. "You know I'm just trying to be your friend, right?"

C▋▋▋▋ freezes. Caught off guard, he sighs, whispering, "Yeah."

The car remains silent the rest of the way to her new job.

When they do finally arrive, C▋▋▋▋ hops out wordlessly and Scorpia drives off. 

Surprisingly, it's a pet shelter - he'd expected trash pickup given his explicit request for anything but, though this is far better considering he actually somewhat liked animals. He steps through the door and waves to the old lady sweeping the floor. Razz, as Scorpia had called her, looks up and smiles widely. 

"Ah, C▋▋▋▋, dearie! Scorpia has told me so much about you, come in, come in."

C▋▋▋▋ had already entered, but he follows her as she gives him the tour. It's a tiny place and there are scarce few animals even in the place. Curiously, the back door had a monumental amount of tape over the bottom quarter, the intent of which C▋▋▋▋ cannot parse.

"Mara isn't here today, so for now you can feed the sweetings and refill their water. If you have any questions, come fetch me." Razz steps into her office, sweeping already spotless floors along the way. 

C▋▋▋▋ picks up the cat food, first, the tabby kittens having caught his eye. He walks over to the cage, opening it gently and pouring what he felt was an appropriate amount of food into the empty bowl. The smaller of the two prances over happily and licks at the food, while the other seems more interested in C▋▋▋▋'s hand, trying its best to climb it. C▋▋▋▋ coos, lightly petting its head with a smile. The smaller kitten seems to get jealous at the attention, abandoning its meal to climb over its sibling and dangle from his wrist precariously. C▋▋▋▋ swiftly cups his other hand under the kitten, catching him when he starts to slip. He's now dual-wielding kittens and simultaneously brushing his thumbs over their heads. 

A voice from the left startles him, "Oh, that's Chester and Abby. Chester's the small one, he's an adventurous young lad." Razz stands in the doorway, seemingly unperturbed by C▋▋▋▋'s lack of progress in doing what he was asked.

C▋▋▋▋ doesn't reply, merely placing the two back in their cage and pouring a bit of water into their mostly full bowl. 

"They just lost their mother last week. Poor thing caught the flu, methinks."

C▋▋▋▋ looks back into the cage, a new sense of sympathy endearing them to her. 

"What will happen to them?" he asks cautiously.

Razz waves her hand dismissively. "These little guys will be adopted in no time. Kittens don't stay here very long." She gestures to an elderly calico in the corner, "Old Ellie over there is a different story. She's coming up on a week, so we'll probably end up having to transfer her soon. No one wants to adopt an old cat."

C▋▋▋▋ barks a laugh. "Tell me about it."

He recoils as Razz whaps him on the head with the end of her broom. "You're not old just yet. I'm sure you'll find a partner soon enough."

While not exactly what C▋▋▋▋ had meant, he just nods.

After about three hours at the shelter, Razz closes up early and C▋▋▋▋ is unceremoniously booted from the shelter. Scorpia won't be here to pick him up for another ten minutes, so C▋▋▋▋ mills about the sidewalk. When he passes the nearby alley, he catches a slight 'mew' from the direction of the back door. He slowly presses forward into the alley, careful not to scare it away. As he steps around the dumpster, he finds a small black kitten pawing at the back door to the shelter. 

C▋▋▋▋ gets down on his knees and pspsps's to lure the kitten over, and to his surprise, it happily trots over and climbs into his lap, purring as it marks his thigh. C▋▋▋▋ runs his hand down the kitten's back, cooing every time it moves or yawns. 

A few minutes later, he spies Scorpia's car and goes to set the kitten down, only for it to scream the second he does. He quickly picks it back up and it rubs its face on him. He walks over to the car, pulling open the door with the kitten in his off-hand. 

Scorpia beams at him, gesturing to the little guy.

C▋▋▋▋ rolls her eyes. "Found him in the alley. Won't seem to let me go." After a moment of deliberation, he adds, "Your place allow cats?"

Scorpia bounces excitedly, exclaiming, "KITTY!"

When C▋▋▋▋ arrives at work the following day, he finds himself enjoying the comfortable bliss of the shelter, devoid of all other sapient life. It's a refreshing reprieve from Scorpia's extroversion and occasional idiocy. He sets about the room, going through the checklist Razz left him. He feeds the two rabbits, the puppy, the calico (Ellie?), and the ferrets. He checks the water of each cage as he goes, relieved to find that they're all mostly full, saving him a trip with the water jug. Ultimately, he ends up at the kitten's cage, having saved it for last intentionally. They scamper towards him the second he opens the cage, immediately climbing his arm as he tries to pour food. Chester lightly bites him, though regret instantaneously surfaces in his eyes as he licks the wound he left. C▋▋▋▋ takes that as a cue to set the two of them down. 

He hears the door open, greeting Razz as she glides inside, her footfalls near silent in her pink grandma slippers. She nods at him, then slinks into her office with a blank look upon her face. 

As the day ticks on, a part of C▋▋▋▋ worries - Razz told him the day before that Mara would be working today, though she never stated at what time. The odious feeling in the air raises his hackles against his will, forcing him to remain hyper-vigilant. Something is off, but he can't place it. Every time the door opens to a visitor, he stares them down, as though a gaze alone could provide him sanctity. His tail won't stop lashing as he berates himself for his paranoia, each interaction driving him further up a wall. 

The front door opens.

"You'll always be my princess, Cat."

He shivers as the memory gives way to a nightmarish scene: the figure of Adora in the doorway, mouth agape and eyes wide.

"C▋▋▋▋?" she barely manages to ask.

C▋▋▋▋ snarls, "You're Mara?" His ears pin back involuntarily, recalling the incident at the Brightmoon Manor. He takes a pace towards her, smirking when she flinches.

Adora clears her throat. "No, Mara is- was Razz's daughter. She mixes up our names. I'm... I'm still Adora." She offers a nostalgic smile, as though it undoes everything she's done to him.

C▋▋▋▋ turns around and marches into the closet, grabbing his cleaning supplies and getting to work without a further word. Adora presumably absconded to Razz's office in that time - probably quitting, knowing her. He kills the thought, wiping down the empty cages and walls with fervor.

He hears the front door open, peering around the corner just in time to see Razz walk out. Adora mills about by the office door, pointedly not looking at him. He grabs a tennis ball off the counter to his right, tossing it in the air as he addresses her. 

"Should've known you'd end up here." He starts, trying to start his digs subtle.

Adora doesn't bite, slightly nodding her head in acknowledgment and steadfast resolve.

C▋▋▋▋ thinks for a moment, then tosses the tennis ball to her. She catches it awkwardly with both hands, then looks at him.

He smiles at her. "Gonna throw it back, princess?"

That did it. She looks conflicted, somewhere combination of hope and fear, but eventually tosses it back underhand.

C▋▋▋▋ humphs, stepping out of the way to let it roll along the floor. "Throw like a girl, too." Adora's face turns red, her fists clenching tight enough to leave white marks on her palms. 

He takes a step closer, preparing to twist the knife. Adora staggers back a half-step. "What's the matter, Adora?" he starts, taking another step forward as he continues, "Not so tough without your backup dancers?"

Adora's face turns another shade of red entirely, muttering something.

C▋▋▋▋ cackles. "Come on, princess, speak up." He takes yet another step forward, apparently startling Adora enough to set her off.

"It's a wonder no one bailed you out, you're such a great friend." she scathes, her voice dripping with venom.

He sets his jaw, heating up in turn. "Like you have any fucking room to talk about being a friend. You gave me up to live in a mansion and make out with Glitter."

Adora's eyes turn harsh as she slams a fist on the nearby desk, causing C▋▋▋▋ to jump half an inch. She raises her voice, "I was homeless for weeks, Cat. I was mugged and assaulted - I lost almost everything I'd ever owned in the first few days. I slept on park benches and only found Glimmer in jail."

C▋▋▋▋ nervously takes a step back as Adora advances - she had nearly a full foot on him, he's not stupid - replying, "W-would love to hear that story. What'd Sparkles do to end up in jail?" He centers his voice as he speaks, finding his confidence again. "Embezzlement? Tax fraud? Maybe-"

Realization blooms across Adora's face. She whispers, "You never cared about me, did you?" C▋▋▋▋ takes another cautious step back at the accusation. "You act like I'm lived a life of luxury just because Weaver liked me more. I earned her respect. Maybe if you'd been even the slightest bit responsible she wouldn't have punished you all the time. In spite of that, I stepped in to protect you every step of the way, only for you to stab me in the back the second I decided to prioritize myself even ONCE." She's breathing heavily now, starting to lose herself in her anger as C▋▋▋▋ flinches at every word. "You talk about me like I'm the privileged one, like you've suffered, but you got to be yourself! You got to go to college! You got to live your own life while I rotted, just like you'd always wanted." 

C▋▋▋▋ recoils at the weight of her words, his own rage building to a point. He growls and takes a step towards Adora, flashing his claws. "Oh, so it's MY fault Weaver-"

In one swift motion, he's slammed against the wall, the small of his back roughly introduced to the corner of a picture frame. She boxes him in, staring down at him with fire in her eyes. C▋▋▋▋'s claws instinctively dig into the wall behind him, but Adora pays it absolutely no mind. 

She winces at the noise C▋▋▋▋ makes, her eyes suddenly an ocean of sympathy. She takes a deep breath and her voice quiets to speaking volume, the fury having melted into something resembling compassion. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was afraid of how you'd react and I knew you wanted nothing to do with me." She pauses, looking off to the side to regain some composure. "You were always the first one I was going to tell, you know? I respected you so much. All I ever wanted was for you to feel that same way about me." She takes another step forward, their foreheads now nearly touching. Adora hesitates. She looks away slightly, some of her loose hair falling in C▋▋▋▋'s face. His mind goes blank, his willpower faltering from the similarity to that dream. He sheathes his claws and sinks down the wall, not bothering to look up at her as the panic sets in. 

I ruined her life.

Adora takes another deep breath, visibly shaking. She's almost whispering now, her voice conflicted and detached. "I used to think that one day, you'd come around and start treating me as an equal. I don't know if I believe that anymore."

C▋▋▋▋ drops fully to the floor, legs outstretched as tears sting his eyes. Adora backs up in shock, taking deep breaths and pacing back and forth. She thumps herself in the forehead and lets out a wail, "I'm so sorry. I don't... I just... Shit."

He doesn't look up again. He catches Adora extending a hand to him with a sympathetic look. He swats it away, turning onto his side and curling up. 

Adora leaves, like always.

Scorpia is late to pick him up, probably. He's wordless as he pulls open the passenger door and climbs in, something Scorpia in her infinite wisdom does not let slide.

"What's up, Wildcat? You seem down." Her voice is full of earnest concern and reeks of pity.

C▋▋▋▋ can't hold back his snarl, digging his dew claw into his upper thigh until his mind ceases thought. In an instant, he's back at their apartment and in his bed with a sticky note on his forehead. His anger lingers in the form of virulent disregard for everyone and everything. He rips the note up without reading it. He buries his face in his pillow, screaming loud enough that they'll probably get a noise complaint. He doesn't particularly care at the moment. A rogue thought breaches his conscious like an armor-piercing bullet and he wills it back the way it came.

She left me. She's the one that needs to change.

A knock wakes him from the daydream.

"Wildcat? We're making dinner, you want one burger or two?" She's as jovial as ever, though that hint of concern maintains its presence. 

To his surprise, he stands and makes his way to the door, opening it and stomping out to the table. The stray kitten sits atop the counter as Scorpia sets about seasoning the meat. She sends C▋▋▋▋ a relieved smile that he reluctantly returns a poor imitation of.

"No bun, right?" C▋▋▋▋ shakes her head. "Just checking, memory isn't what it once was." C▋▋▋▋ snorts. Scorpia has that knowing look on her face, the one that says We can talk about it later, if you want.

C▋▋▋▋ changes the subject. "Any idea what we're calling this guy?" He motions to the kitten, who is currently trying (and failing) to escape the empty sink they'd trapped themself in. 

Scorpia beams, "Ooh! I wanna pick! Let me think..." He can practically spy steam leaking from her ears when she starts uttering some kind of dark ritual, sounding something like "Ooteatop?"

C▋▋▋▋ does a double take. "What?"

Scorpia blushes, "It's 'Potato' backwards." C▋▋▋▋ groans.

"Pick a normal name." His voice is far from serious, but she goes back to thinking.

"What about... Meooo-" she stretches the syllable as C▋▋▋▋'s gaze hardens at her, "logue." He catches the way Scorpia's eyes flick to the magazine on the coffee table.

He chuckles. "You want to call our cat... Meowlogue?"

Scorpia sneezes as some seasoning drifts up to her face, then replies, "Uhh... maybe we could shorten it a bit? What about... Meow-"

"I will not hesitate to hit you with the nearest blunt object."

"Melogue?"

C▋▋▋▋ scratches his neck awkwardly. "Spell it."

Scorpia smiles confidently, "M - E - L - O - G - E."

"That's Meloge." He stiffly pronounces it in such a way that it cannot possibly rhyme.

"Right! No 'E', then! Err, keep the first one. Melog!"

C▋▋▋▋ reclines on the couch while the patties 'set' or whatever Scorpia said, his spirits drastically lifted. Scorpia's eyes still betray her intent to bring up the sore subject, so he heads it off before it can be sprung upon him.

"My coworker. It was Adora," he starts.

Scorpia snaps a pincer shut to convey a revelation. "Right! That's her name, Adora. You know her?"

C▋▋▋▋ growls lightly. "Knew. We grew up together at Weaver's. She... she left me behind in the middle of the night. Went to live in a mansion with a different friend." He obscures several irrelevant details, pained to be sharing as much as he is.

Scorpia gasps. "That... that!" She cups a claw around each of C▋▋▋▋'s ears, then shouts, "Asshole!" C▋▋▋▋ rolls his eyes and shoves both arms away. 

He starts to say it's fine right as Scorpia says, "I'm coming with you tomorrow. Wanna give her a piece of my mind."

C▋▋▋▋ looks at her in shock. "What? Why? Are you stupid?"

She puts on a pouty face. "No one hurts my best friend."

He sighs.

C▋▋▋▋ looks out the window again. Scorpia waves back.

He'd hoped that Scorpia's resolve would have wavered by now, but she remains committed to yelling at Adora - who happens to be about two hours late and counting. 

He checks back in a little while later, poking his head outside.

"How long are you gonna wait?" He hopes in vain that she gets the hint to hurry up and leave.

"How long has it been?"

C▋▋▋▋ looks at the wall clock. "Two and a half hours?"

Scorpia smiles brightly. "At least two hours and thirty-one minutes!"

C▋▋▋▋ facepalms, plopping down in a seat in the lobby nearby where Scorpia is standing. In no time, he sees that ugly blonde poof out the window, shoving her way into the shelter. Now that she's inside and he's able to take a closer look, he finds several exceedingly poor attempts at masking dishevelment. 

The door opens with much more force than usual, the bells going ballistic as Scorpia rushes in.

"You're Adora, right?"

Oh no.

Adora holds a hand aloft horizontally and wobbles it slightly. 

"Kind of? Are- are you her sister?" Scorpia's stupidity astounds C▋▋▋▋ each and every day. He decides to hide in the back room until this confrontation is finished, putting on his headphones and blasting a classic rock playlist he assembled with Bow a few months back. He busies himself with cleaning and the like, grateful for the brief reprieve - though he knows it won't last.

And yet, it does. Three hours pass entirely uneventful. He assumes that Scorpia has already gone home, given the lack of fighting he hears when he takes off his headphones. In fact, he rather suspiciously doesn't hear any life at all. He cautiously cracks the door and looks around, unsurprisingly yet concerningly finding nothing. C▋▋▋▋ enters the lobby proper, dragging his gaze over every surface for a clue as to where Adora went - before coming across the window to Razz's room. He steps up to the narrow window and peeks through.

Adora sits in the back corner against a filing cabinet. Her hands are on her head and her knees are to her chest. Her face is burdened by shock, her eyes wide and vacant. C▋▋▋▋ instinctively puts a hand on the doorknob, but a voice in his head stops him in his tracks.

You'll only make it worse. Why would she want the help of a filthy stray?

C▋▋▋▋ runs away.

Chapter Text

He saw me. He definitely saw me. He saw me and he left. He doesn't care at all.

You deserve it for leaving him there.

He should have been a better friend.

You've never been a friend to him.

Adora's desk phone rings. Startled, she picks it up without checking the caller ID.

"You are needed in my office." Hope's voice is still cold and unfeeling, but it lacks the edge of expectation it once threatened.

Adora runs a hand through her hair, trying in vain to mask the evidence of her binge drinking. "I'll be right there." Hope says nothing further and hangs up. 

She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose, willing her headache to fade. She stops by the bathroom on her way down the hall, splashing water in her face and smoothing out her hair as best she can. She already knows it won't fool Hope - the woman had eyes like a hawk - but it's a matter of principle at this point.

Adora doesn't bother knocking, pushing into the door she knows is unlocked. Hope doesn't do things on impulse, everything is planned, calculated, prepared ahead of time such that nothing can go wrong. Hope stands in the center of the room with her reading glasses on, thin half-frames accenting her already sharp appearance. She's looking down at a tablet with fervor, though she instantaneously draws her attention to Adora when she steps forward. 

Hope's voice is anything but passive as she speaks. "Adora. You have been overindulging of late." 

The tone stings, hearkening back to Weaver a little too much. She does her best to hide the wince she undoubtedly expresses at the thought. Hope notices. She always notices.

She levels Adora with her eyes. Adora holds her glare for a moment, but quickly drops it, the nonverbal argument lost. Hope's face softens, as does her tone. "I understand you are under some external stress. You may speak on the matter if it brings you any peace."

Adora remains silent, staring straight ahead and away from Hope's pitying expression. Part of her burns to let loose the whole story, damning the consequences and the judgment - so she does.

She gives Hope a nearly three-minute summary of the situation. Neither of them able to maintain eye contact for the full duration thereof. Adora breaks first when recounting her interaction with Cat on the doorstep and how she came to leave the Brightmoon household, her face twisting and threatening to spill tears. Hope offers a look of concern, but doesn't push the matter until Adora finishes.

Hope chuckles mirthlessly; a dry, muted vocalization. "I am unqualified to field these sorts of concerns, I'm afraid. Mara would've given you stellar advice. I am not her. I can recommend you to a private therapist, though I recommend first checking if any family or friends you trust would be willing to hear you out. Please take the rest of the day off."

Adora nods solemnly, exiting the office. Strangely, she feels far better than when she entered, despite Hope's non-advice. She slowly treks back to her apartment, hand hovering over the phone in her pocket in anticipation of the call she's going to have to make in a few minutes. She wills herself not to drag her feet, knowing that further delay will only bring her more anxiety. As she steps in the door, she taps the call button.

It rings just twice before Glimmer answers. "What's up, 'Dor?" She sounds like she's chewing on something.

Adora glances at her fridge, but ultimately decides against grabbing anything. She reclines on the couch, then finally responds after a too-long pause. 

"Cat's working at the shelter with me now." It slips out without warning and she instantly wishes she could take it back.

"...I'm on my way." Glimmer's voice seems level and composed over the phone, though Adora's experience with her sister tells her otherwise. 

"Glim, stop. I can handle myself." She pauses, then sheepishly adds, "I already, uh, spoke to him the other day." She leaves out the part where she slammed him against a wall and yelled at him - not that Glimmer would admonish her. 

An angsty sigh comes through the speaker. "So, you just want to talk about it?" 

Adora nods dumbly, then hurriedly says, "Uh, yes. Sorry." She absentmindedly plays with her hair in a daze before realizing that Glimmer probably wants her to start talking. 

Adora recaps the argument to the best of her ability. "I think he hates me," she finishes. At some point, she'd migrated over to the kitchen, resting her elbows on the countertop. "I just wish we could be friends again. I miss him."

The voice over the phone suddenly interjects, "You love him, don't you?" Adora's face immediately blooms red. Her instinctive "No!" does little to assuage Glimmer. "Oh my stars, you really do. You could've fallen for any idiot, and you chose him. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Glimmer!"

"No, don't you 'Glimmer' me! I'm not hanging up until you admit it." Her voice is strained, but not entirely disappointed.

Adora humphs, defiantly planting her foot. "I absolutely do NOT. He's just - he was just a really good friend." The words fail to convince even herself, but she denies it all the same.

She can hear Glimmer smirk. "So, he's like a brother to you, then?"

"No!" she cries before she can catch herself. "Maybe I thought I liked him for a bit when we were younger, but I don't anymore. I just... need him in my life."

"And how is that different from being in love with him?"

She scoffs, "Because I don't want him like that!"

"Right, I'm sure you don't think about kissing him every waking moment." Glimmer jests dismissively.

Adora gags. "Stars, no. That's disgusting." 

Glimmer doesn't respond for a moment, apparently stumped. Then, "So what? You're probably just... what's it called, aromantic? Bow! What's- ah, shit, I think he's asleep right now. Whatever, do you know what being aromantic is?"

Adora does not, but she pieces it together pretty easily. "When you don't love anyone, I guess?"

"Kinda. It's when you don't, like, want to do stuff like kissing with someone but you still love them," Glimmer explains matter-of-factly as though she weren't just about to check with her not-boyfriend. 

The sentiment is almost grating to her ears. "That's just a friend!"

"Look, I'm not an expert on this. I'll ask Bow when he wakes up, he said he knew someone that went through all that. I just think it explains a lot about... this." Glimmer no doubt gestures widely with her hand. "Think about it, okay? I've got to head to my late class. Love you."

Adora responds in turn, and the line goes dead. 

The shelter is blissful, almost ethereal when Adora arrives. Light classical music drifts from the kennel room, heroically keeping the silence that ignites her subconscious at bay. She makes her way to the source, opening the door and half-heartedly offering a greeting. "Morning, Razz." She is surprised to instead find C▋▋▋▋ bopping along to the music joyously, broom still in hand.

C▋▋▋▋ startles and ceases his awkward dance, dropping his broom. The room goes silent, the hush overpowering even the music.

Adora speaks first. "Hey. Uh, I... I know you probably don't want to speak to me right now, but I wanted to apologize for how I treated you the other day. I thought you were going to hurt me. I freaked out and snapped." She stutters to a halt, not as ignorant of C▋▋▋▋'s wide eyes as she'd like to be. 

C▋▋▋▋ clears his throat, eyes transfixed on the floor as he begins to speak. "Y-yeah." He seems to lose his focus for a moment, but eventually manages to look right at her. He looks pained as he manages to respond, "I'm sorry, too. I should've helped yesterday. I just- you know how it is."

It's Adora's turn to be shocked, and without thinking she steps forward to give her old friend a hug. He backsteps cautiously, though his claws don't unsheathe. "Don't," he commands. After some hesitation he quietly adds, "please?"

Adora raises her hands in surrender and backs up. She sits atop one of the empty cages, crossing her legs. She takes a while to think, neither of them addressing the other nor the elephant in the room. 

"Scorpia talked to me last night. She," he pauses and his gaze fixates on a floor tile, "she made me realize that I'd fucked up. She was so angry at me when she learned what happened..." He gestures, trailing off. He resumes his stance, an arm folded into the other across his chest. 

"Does that mean...?" Adora ventures, stopping once C▋▋▋▋'s expression turns dour. He shakes his head, muttering something.

"I don't know. I really don't fucking know how I feel or what I'm ready to apologize for. I don't think I can talk about all that yet. I... fuck, I really don't know how to do this. Scorpia made me practice with her this morning, saying I'm sorry and all that shit, but it doesn't feel right. I regret it, I think, but I don't feel sorry about it, I guess." He wipes his eyes, though Adora hadn't noticed tears.

Adora watches herself breathe deeply and step out into the lobby, sitting in the nearest chair. She forces herself to ignore the condemned face C▋▋▋▋ gives her as she does so, forces herself to take some time to recuperate. Minutes pass. Her vision eventually returns to first person, her breathing steadies, her pulse descends. 

C▋▋▋▋ pushes through the door, leaning against the wall to her right. He says nothing.

A migraine brews in Adora's head, pain shooting through her temples. She slips her hair out of its ponytail, relief from the tension helping just a little. She catches C▋▋▋▋ staring as she shakes out her hair, giving him a small smile.

She breaks the silence again. "Can we just be normal again? I really don't want to fight anymore. We don't have to talk about it just yet if you don't want to, but I miss you." Her voice is strained, wavering out of fear that this all blows up in her face again. She notices the corner of C▋▋▋▋'s mouth tug up at the confession, though he certainly tries to hide it. 

"Yeah. We can do that."

Adora beams back, stretching her arms out for a hug. C▋▋▋▋ slowly creeps forward and falls into her arms, melting into the embrace like no time had passed, like they were still children valiantly rebelling against Weaver. She murmurs as C▋▋▋▋ purrs, "I've really missed this, Cat - can I still call you that?" She feels him reluctantly nod against her shoulder and she hugs him even tighter.

A▋▋▋▋ sprinted down the sidewalk towards the buses, his backpack swinging treacherously, threatening to topple him. He made it to the door and knocked. The bus driver gave him a knowing smile and welcomed him aboard. He took his seat a third of the way back and began to put the final touches on the solo portion of his project.

By the time the bus made it to his stop, he was nearly finished. He shoved everything in his bag and disembarked, beginning the short walk back to Weaver's. He regretted missing lunch earlier, as his footsteps were now heavy and arduous. He slowly clambered up the stairs and into his room, tossing his bag aside and collapsing in bed. 

A▋▋▋▋ awoke at dawn. He stretched, then whispered indiscriminately, "Cat, do you think you could help me with the Algebra homework?"

Seconds passed without an answer. He stood and turned on the light, shocked to find no trace of the magicat. Panic overtook him, sending him sprinting down the stairs and into the backyard.

In their usual spot, shivering and alone, he found Cat curled up in a ball against the fence. As A▋▋▋▋ walked over, Cat hissed at him in warning.

"Cat, I'm so sorry, I passed out as soon as I got home, I didn't even think-"

He scoffed. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'd forgotten your beauty sleep took priority over your best friend." A▋▋▋▋ grimaced at the accusation. 

A▋▋▋▋ tried again. "I promise I didn't mean to, please don't be mad."

"Don't be mad? You left me here to rot! What the fuck happened to sticking together? You know I'd never leave you out here alone if you got in trouble." The anger in his voice was nearly eclipsed by sorrow. A▋▋▋▋ outstretched his arms and pulled Cat close, letting him nuzzle into his neck to cry. "Please don't forget about me." A▋▋▋▋ tightens his embrace. "Never."

"Switch with me? I'm gonna go take a nap in Razz's office."

Adora rolls her eyes, slipping behind the desk and trying not to look bored. They'd had exactly zero visitors in over three hours, so after another half-hour of nothingness, she digs her book out of her bag and starts reading. Cat had slowly been whittling down her sense of 'duty' over the past week, encouraging her to slack off like he has a vested interest in the matter. Razz hardly shows up anymore - not that she needs to, they get on average 0.6 customers a day - so it's not like they'll ever get in trouble for it. 

Two more hours pass without a visitor. Adora has long grown sick of reading, persevering out of sheer boredom. With a breathy sigh, she dogears a page and throws it on the desk, then stands and pulls open the door to Razz's office. Sure enough, Cat lies on top of the now-clear desk, evidently having decided nothing upon it was worthwhile enough not to get knocked onto the floor.

His voice is cocky as he addresses her, "Hey Adora. Think I'm on break another fifteen minutes or so, what's up?"

Adora almost speaks before realizing she had nothing planned to say. Her vacant eyes give her away, if Cat's smarmy guise is anything to go by.

"Didn't think you'd get this far, huh, princess?"

Adora feels herself start to tilt her head, though she fights it off for fear of the relentless teasing Cat would no doubt impart. "What's with the nickname?"

Cat shrugs. "You get a nickname for me, I get one for you." Adora gives him a look that says You know that's not what I meant you dolt. He snickers in response. "You just have a regal getup, what can I say?" Adora looks down at her flannel and blue jeans, then back up at Cat. He grins, daring her to say anything.

She changes the subject. "What happened with that customer yesterday?"

Cat turns a bit downtrodden. "He just weirded me out, that's all." Adora rolls her eyes, motioning for him to continue. Cat does his damnedest not to give in, but eventually breaks. "Fine, I just heard him call me 'them' to you. Felt really... strange, I guess. I'm not into all that gender stuff."

"They/them is just gender neutral, dude," she explains, then hesitantly adds, "and for what it's worth, you look and sound pretty androgynous at times." 

Cat stares through her, face unreadable as he mutters "Really?" 

Adora nods.

He seems to turn this over in his head for a bit. "I guess it's fine, then."

Adora smiles brightly. "So, he/they for you, then?" 

Cat shoots her a look, staunchly objecting. "None of that stuff. It's just fine if people wanna call me they, stars." He rolls over, clearly done with the conversation. Adora decides to take a seat in the beanbag chair, causing Cat's ear to twitch. He looks over and grimaces.

Before Adora can even question him, he practically launches himself into the beanbag on top of her. Adora squeaks from the sudden mass of fluff in her lap and writhes, but soon leans back when Cat angrily kneads her. His tail sways happily in the air, occasionally brushing her arm and back. Cautiously, Adora raises a hand and sets it on Cat's head near the base of his ears. He growls a little, at first, but ultimately relents and allows her to scritch him. A low rumbling pulsates in her lap, though Adora knows better than to comment by now. 

Half an hour passes before Adora breaks the silence. "Would you want to get some coffee or something?"

Cat stirs from his contentment, giving her a brief taste of side-eye. He makes a noise, something along the lines of prrrrrrrrrbt. Adora interprets this as a 'yes, but give me a bit.' Sure enough, after a few minutes, Cat stretches and stands, extending a hand to help her up.

When they arrive at the cafe, it's nearly dusk. It's a fairly standard coffee shop Adora has been to a few times, particularly when her workload got heavy. She walks up to the counter, conscious of Cat standing behind and looking over her shoulder at the menu. The barista, Jen, steps over from cleaning a machine, her usual red, pink, and orange badge prominent on the right side of her apron.

"Adora! Nice to see you, want the mocha again?" Her voice is chipper, betraying her otherwise exhausted visage visible through the window prior to their arrival.

Adora nods, smiling back at her brightly. Jen taps the keyboard a few times, occasionally glancing up at Adora as she does so.

"You should wear that jacket more often, hun. It looks great on you, really shows off your arms." Jen's cheeks dimple as she speaks. Cat audibly groans and pushes past Adora.

"Hi, could I get an espresso, double shot? Thanks." His voice is curt, dismissive.

Jen's expression dampens, but she nods as she inputs the order. "Can I get a name for your order?"

"It's for Cat."

Jen looks at him studiously, then at Adora, clearly processing something. Tentatively, she asks, "Yeah, no problem. Are you paying separately or together?"

"Together," Adora chimes in before Cat can offer to pay. He shoots her a look but doesn't openly object. She hands over her card, then gestures for Cat to go find a seat. He takes off like a kid in a candy store, scouring the booths. 

"Should've known you'd be off the menu. She's cute, though. You fit together well."

Jen's comment takes several seconds to register with Adora. The moment it does, she turns bright red. "Oh, uh, no, we're not, uh, together, and h- Cat's not- uh..."

The barista just smiles back, writing their names on their finished drinks. "Well, in any case, hope you enjoy."

Adora's face doesn't get any less red as she walks to their table, where Cat is splayed out on one of the booths. She lightly nudges his drink towards him and he bolts upright, but frowns when he sees the cup. 

"What? Did they make it wrong?"

Cat's expression is unreadable. "She spelled my name wrong." He spins the cup around, revealing KAT in blocky letters on the receipt. Adora laughs softly.

"Maybe she spelled mine wrong too," she jests, checking her own receipt. "Uhh..."

"Always knew you were illiterate," Cat taunts, snatching the paper from her. "Fucking seriously? Who even asks people out like that anymore?"

Adora turns even more red. "Maybe she just wanted to be friends?" Her tone fails to be convincing in the slightest.

Cat grabs his espresso and stands. "C'mon, let's go." He snags Adora's hand, pulling her towards the door as the barista calls out her farewell.

"Have a nice evening, ladies!"

The door slams shut behind them, the silence of the outdoors suddenly deafening.

"What an asshole. Do I look like a fucking lady to you?" Cat grits his teeth, digging his claws into the side of his mostly-empty drink. 

Adora uneasily frees her hand, turning to face him. "Dude, it's okay. She just misunderstood, it's no big deal."

"No big deal? Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is?"

Adora stares at him, deadpan. "Yes." A little anger seeps into her voice, but she wills it to stay down. 

Cat freezes. "Wha- Oh. Right. Well, still, I don't even know how anyone can see me like that. I'm manly," he almost gags on the word, "as hell."

"Your name kind of gives off a vibe, I guess. I think she just thought you were trans."

Cat fumes, his fur bristling as he near-yells, "I am NOT fucking trans."

Adora can't find the will to respond, simply offering a 'goodnight' and walking home - alone.

Chapter Text

"And these new developments bother you... why, exactly?"

Cat blinks at the question. "What?"

Netty leans forward in their armchair. "Well, you've been sitting here telling me you've wanted to be closer to Adora for ages, and now you're getting closer. What's the issue?"

Cat's fur stands on end, the confrontation a blatant threat. "So, what, I've been coming here a month and you think you know me now? The fuck is this? I thought you were supposed to be all 'peace and love' or whatever." 

Netossa raises an eyebrow.

He runs a claw down his right thigh, just enough to hurt but not leave a mark. He sighs, forcing himself to postpone his anger. "It's- I don't want that, obviously. I know I need to fix... Whatever the hell is wrong with me," he manages. He drops his voice to a mutter, adding, "so people stop leaving." His thoughts trail off as the memory of Adora's departure resumes branding his subconscious. 

"Temper tantrum over?" Cat nods, embarrassed. Netty clears their throat. "Alright. We can start by going over how things have been between you lately, and we'll move into why it's upsetting you."

Cat swallows, then begins. "Ever since our big fight, things have been really... nice. We're hanging out a lot. I missed being around her, even if things aren't exactly the same anymore. She still makes me feel safe, I guess. Bow was kinda like that, but I still felt judged." He looks up to Netty for guidance. They nod, gesturing for them to continue. "I think I- I don't know. I don't know why things feel weird. I wish she'd stop trying to push her gender shit on me, though - she keeps trying to tell me about all these labels and it's really annoying because it's like she's trying to prove a point and she always talks down to me when she gets like that. Maybe she thinks I'll suddenly discover myself and all my problems will magically disappear when I find the right label, maybe deciding I'm Brachydiosexual will fix me."

"Why does the idea of being queer scare you so much?"

He laughs. "Scare me? No, I just know who I am and it's not that. I'm just a normal dude." 

Netty taps their clipboard. "Normal? Do you mean queer people aren't normal?"

"No! I just- I'm not like them," he exclaims without thinking.

"And why would it be so bad to be like 'them'?"

"I-" He stops himself and thinks it through. "Because it's not me. I've never been like that and I never will be. I don't care that Adora is trans, I just don't want people associating me with it."

The therapist twirls their pen in thought. "How about this: If Adora asked you out tomorrow, how would you feel?"

Cat's ears pin back and he glows bright red. With a shaking voice, he replies, "I- I'm not gay. I don't want that anym- I don't want that." 

Netossa stares at him knowingly. "And why would dating Adora make you gay? Why would dating a woman as a man make you gay?" Their gaze is paralyzing, daring him to reply. 

He breathes deeply, collecting himself just enough to respond. "It's not that she isn't a woman, she's just not - I knew her before she was a woman. It feels weird."

Netty's glare hardens, sending Cat cowering in place. "So you don't really see her as a woman then, huh? What would it take for you to see her as a woman? She goes by she/her, she dresses femme, her voice sounds more natural than mine does - what else do you need? Is it her body parts? You're not dating her, anyways, so what does it matter?"

When he doesn't respond, Netty trucks on. "C'mon, kid. I think we both know what this is about. If Ms. Weaver hadn't been so accepting of Adora's transition, we wouldn't be here."

Cat snarls, almost shouting, "Stop bringing that up! I am NOT jealous!" He folds his arms and twists his head away like a petulant child. 

"Cat, I'm not blaming you. Weaver abused you, whether you want to admit it or not - and that's fucked up. She placed your best friend on a pedestal while she treated you like shit, hun, it'd give anyone issues. Frankly, I'm surprised you're this well-adjusted, given the circumstances," they trail off towards the inevitable 'but', "But she's still in there. Don't let her ruin this for you."

Cat throws another crumpled straw wrapper into the hood of Adora's sweater, smirking at the twitching of her nose with each that lands.

He starts to ball another, when Adora whips her head around. "What are we, twelve?" Her tone is playful, but Cat can sense the agitation beneath the surface that she's too kind to admit. Adora seems to realize this fact, because she quickly moves to put her headphones back on.

Cat reaches out and grabs her wrist. "Nope, none of that. I'm not dealing with anxious Adora for the next four hours. Spit it out."

"What? There's nothing-" She stops mid-sentence as Cat levels her with a glare. She sets her headphones on the desk and turns all the way around. "Glimmer's having a party for her cousin's 18th birthday," she corrects hurriedly.

The implication is obvious, but Cat decides he can make her beg a little. "Good for her?"

Adora rolls her eyes. "You should come." She puts on those soft baby doe eyes and Cat almost breaks, but he holds on.

"Do you want me to get punched in the face again?"

Adora looks unimpressed, shooting back, "Only if you're a dick again." She crosses her legs as she leans against the wall, trying her best to look nonchalant despite her palpable stress. 

"Right. Get to the point, princess, who's gonna be there?" Adora's cheeks flush a little as the nickname lands.

Cute.

Adora pulls out a planner - a physical, paper planner - and reads down a list. "Glimmer, Frosta - that's Glimmer's cousin - Bow, and Perfuma. Scorpia's a maybe, but she'll probably go if you do. There's also one girl I've never met, Mermista. Pretty small gathering, per the request of the birthday girl."

Cat looks at her skeptically. "Right, so, two people that hate me and two I don't know. What makes you think I want to go?"

He might've pushed it too far, because Adora steps away from the wall and snaps, "Would it kill you to just say 'no'?" Cat recoils slightly and he can feel his ears droop.

"I never said I wouldn't go."

Adora's expression drowns in a wave of sympathy. "You don't have to go if you don't want to, but don't treat me like an idiot. I'd just prefer if you were there with me. I like you a lot, and I want my friends to like you, too."

He nods, stepping closer and casually wrapping his tail around Adora's wrist for comfort. "Do I need to bring anything?"

"Nothing but a positive attitude?" Adora tries.

Cat scoffs. "I'll see what I can do, princess." 

He revels in the way her face lights up again.

All things considered, Cat expected far worse. Sure, the house is still bougie as shit and Sparkles gives him side-eye every twenty seconds, but the food is decent and Adora hasn't left his side all night. They each only had a single, foul-smelling drink and decided that was enough until they put something else out.

Cat looks up at Adora's face every so often and finds himself reflexively smiling when he sees her enjoying herself. His teenage self would've been proud, finally getting her to chill out. He even convinced her not to make a list of conversation topics - well, he convinced her to leave it at home, anyways.

He jumps a little when Adora taps his shoulder, but plays along, following her gaze. Across the lobby or whatever the fuck this room is called, Scorpia is standing next to Perfuma, chatting profusely and remarkably red-faced. 

Adora pokes him with her elbow. "They seem to have hit it off, huh?"

Cat lets himself drop into a smug smile. "Oh, you're just now finding out about that? They've been on like, four dates already."

"And they haven't made it official yet?" Adora cries out, gawking in disbelief - or betrayal. Her jaw drops even further when Perfuma plants a gentle kiss on Scorpia's nose. Adora gestures wildly in the direction of the two of them, her expression blatantly reading 'Are you seeing this shit right now?'

The birthday girl (helpfully marked by no less than three party hats and several bits of confetti) turns and stares a hole in Adora, motioning across her neck with her finger. Adora gulps.

"Scared of miss five-foot nothing, are we?"

Adora makes no attempt to recompose herself, shying away and haplessly muttering, "She's scary... She threatens to kill me all the time, I don't know what I did to her."

Cat snickers. "She's clearly just doing it to get a rise out of you, du- uh, Adora." Their argument the previous week about whether 'dude' was gender neutral hadn't exactly resolved itself, but Cat thought it best not to push it. 

She shoots him an appreciative look. There's a soft disquiet between them, an almost electric feeling that had been rearing its head every now and again since they'd reconnected. Adora steps a little closer, never breaking eye contact. "Do you-"

"ADORA! BOW W- WANTS TO ASK YOU A QUESTION!"

Adora startles, and for an instant, her rage could rival gods. She somehow manages to switch it off as a thoroughly drunk Glimmer staggers over, offering a feigned pleasant greeting. "Hey, Glim. What's up?"

Cat takes a few steps back when Glimmer pushes forward, having promised three separate people that he wouldn't get into a fist fight. He resigns to retreat to the kitchen, reluctantly pouring himself some orange juice. It's probably intended for some other purpose, but he can't find a damn thing it would go even half-decently with, so he figures it won't be missed. Bow sidles up a few minutes later, doing his best impression of someone not intending to start an awkward conversation.

"So..." Bow starts, barely managing to attract even an ounce of Cat's concentration.

"Yep, doing great. Get to the point." Cat doesn't know quite what sets him off enough to snap like that, but he has therapy for that.

Bow places both hands on the counter-top, adopting a serious expression. "Look, I know you grew up in less-than-ideal conditions, so I'm willing to try and move past everything that happened. For Adora's sake, though, I need to know you're putting serious effort into improving."

Cat's words catch on his tongue, the offer of forgiveness stinting his savage reply. "Alright. I'm in therapy, and I'm trying to make things right with her. I barely understand anything yet, but I'm working on it. For what it's worth, I am sorry."

Bow smiles, mostly through his eyes. "That's a good start. Apology accepted." He presents his arms, offering a hug without pressure - something he'd been great at ever since Cat lashed out that one time.

He doesn't comment on the tears in Cat's eyes when he returns the embrace.

After a few minutes of comfortable quiet, Adora scampers over to the both of them, apparently eager to leave drunk Glimmer behind. "She pre-gamed an 18 year old's birthday party?"

Bow shrugs nervously, subtly motioning with his head to Cat - ironically, a gesture that Adora's imperceptive ass is bound to misinterpret. 

Adora's face lights up. "Oh! Right, Cat, we were trying to come up with party games to play - you have any suggestions?"

Cat sighs, already foreseeing the outcome of his response. "Anything but truth-or-dare."

"Ugh. Dare." Cat fiddles with a loose string in his pocket, desperate for this abomination of a game to end.

The game has been surprisingly tame thus far, with the most devious dare forcing Mermista to drink a teaspoon of Sriracha - a task she easily completed, having been raised by Indian parents. 

Bow smiles broadly. "I dare you to-" he starts.

Cat interrupts him, a little annoyed, "Yes, you can touch my ears. C'mon."

Bow scoots closer and delicately pets the magicat's ears. The sensation isn't unpleasant, though he definitely would've scratched anyone else that tried - save for Adora, obviously. 

After a few seconds, Bow seems placated and returns to his seat, glowing a little brighter than before.

He feels a fingers at the base of his left ear and nearly claws at them before recognizing the touch as Adora's. A low rumble overtakes him against his will, clearly audible in the dead air.

"Is he... purring?" Bow looks ecstatic, cooing to the further dismay of Cat. He tucks himself into Adora's arm and pouts with his arms crossed, though his discomfort is soon disarmed by another warm caress from her pillow. The rumbling grows, but the rest of the crowd seems to have moved on to the next person. 

The bottle lands on Glimmer, prompting a re-spin. Because the universe hates him, it lands on Cat.

Glimmer smirks, an evil thing dripping with venom. "Truth or dare, C▋▋▋▋."

He flinches at the name, for some reason, but complies, anxiously picking 'truth'.

Before the words can leave her mouth, Cat braces, expecting some bullshit about why Adora left. 

Instead, he gets, "What would your name be if you were a girl?"

He squeaks in surprise, internally panicking. The room goes silent, blacked out by a deadened air. He chuckles awkwardly, his vocalization of confusion only just leaving his lips. He can feel several pairs of nervous eyes on him, beady and merciless. 

Blessedly, Bow grabs Glimmer by the wrist and starts to drag her out of the room. "Excuse us for a moment."

Adora gives Cat a confused look. He shrugs in return, anxiety likely apparent in his posture. 

Mermista is the first to speak up, completely indifferent to the room's unease. "Alright, Perfuma, get to it." 

Bow returns a few minutes later, barely missing out on Scorpia's (admittedly decent) rendition of 'Take On Me'. Glimmer emerges shortly thereafter and begrudgingly rejoins the circle, though Bow's watchful eye serves to limit her potential troublemaking.

The first dare Cat is given is trivial and he's thankful for the respite. When the second through fifth dares Cat gets are similarly uninspired, though, he begins to fume. Soon, though, fate happens to grant him the opportunity to get back at Sparkles.

"When are you and Bow going to start dating?"

Glimmer freezes, turning downright pink and unable to expel even a single word. Bow takes over, "Maybe someday. Can we move on?"

Cat nods, satisfied with the reaction - and even more so by the death glare Glimmer shoots him after the fact. 

Another two cycles pass by. Glimmer has to lick a shoe, Mermista confesses that she doesn't really hate her boyfriend, and Bow 'prank' calls his dads (he confesses to the ruse immediately).

Scorpia's bottle lands on Perfuma. She squeals with excitement when Perfuma picks dare with an oddly salacious voice. Scorpia 'dares' her to make her a flower crown, which is readily accepted and the two exit through the side door into the night - hopefully to pick flowers.

Bow politely passes, instead giving his turn to Twinkle.

"Please be C▋▋▋▋ - FUCK!" Glimmer cries out as the bottle lands in the space between Adora and Mermista. Mermista raises her hands in surrender, passing the torch to Adora without even a moment's hesitation.

Cat repays Glimmer's evil smirk from before, practically forcing smoke from the half-fae's nostrils.

Adora requests a truth with an uneasy smile.

"Ugh. Fine, Adora, do you have a crush on anyone at the moment?"

Red floods Adora's face as she stammers. "I-I- uh, n-" She pauses to center herself, then responds clearly, "Yes."

Cat does a double-take at the answer, looking to his best friend in dismay. "What the fuck, and you never told me?" His expression certainly bares pain, though he can't bite it back with the violent burn building in his chest.

Adora sheepishly looks the other way, so Cat takes things into his own hands. He grabs the bottle and 'spins' it, forcing it to point at Adora.

"Adora, truth. Who is it?" He demands, slamming his palm on the floor.

She jumps, donning her signature 'who, me?' expression and trying to play dumb, though Cat refuses to let it go.

I can't believe she never told me. I thought we were actually getting somewhere.

He grabs her by the shoulder and forces her to look into his eyes. "Adora. Who?"

"Cat, I really don't want to answer this-"

"Adora!" The lack of sobriety among the group is infectious, he realizes a moment too late.

"It's you!" Adora shouts, causing Cat to startle back.

"W-what?" he stammers out. "Sparkles put you up to this, d-didn't she?" His breathing grows heavy and swift, desperate gulps of air doing nothing to abate his thirst for oxygen.

Adora looks crestfallen, reaching a hand towards Cat with exceeding caution, hurt evident in the trembling of her hand.

Without even thinking, he slaps it away and stands. "I can't believe..." he starts, then decides it'd be far easier to do the only thing that's never failed him.

He runs.

It's a full three days later when he next sees Adora.

She's out walking Misty, some kind of husky mutt, so he sneaks up behind her and whispers, "hey, Adora." He notes that his voice lacks its usual confidence and snarkiness, though he doubts Adora will comment.

Adora pivots on the spot and nearly drops the leash. "Cat! I'm so sorry for what happened at the party, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just felt really pressured and-"

Cat cuts her off with a little wave. "Relax, princess. I'm over it, I know you didn't really mean it anyways. More mad at Glister than anything." He smiles a tad disingenuously, walking alongside her as Misty tries in vain to jump up on Cat. "How much longer you got left today?"

Some switch flips in Adora's dumb-ass brain, just now registering that he's not mad at her - which, frankly, should've been obvious by the fact he ran into her at all. He's more than capable of hiding away, as he's demonstrated in the past.

She smiles widely. "I'm off at like... 6:30, I think? Why, did you want to do something?" She's still playing a little coy, but it's impressive she was able to pick up on the subtext at all, given that she's Adora.

He looks away, attempting to appear composed while his heart beats out of his chest. "Would you want to go to the park up north? Weather's supposed to be nice this evening." Immediately, he questions whether he was too forward and obvious, pressuring Adora due to something she'd only confessed out of convenience and compulsion.

After what feels like an eternity, Adora cheerily replies, "I'd love to! Meet me back here when my shift's up?"

Cat nods coolly. "Yep. Sounds good. I'll, uh, see you then." He internally chastises his erroneous speech, though it goes unnoticed. He walks off to nowhere in particular, eventually settling on a bench and losing himself in thought.

"Wildcat, you can't avoid it forever. It happened, and you need to move on or you're gonna lose her again." Scorpia's expression bore true concern, unshackled from her typical overly-positive demeanor.

Bow idly messed with a fidget toy in his lap, having exhausted his dialogue tree minutes ago. He'd clearly come underprepared for Cat's stubbornness, a common pitfall among newcomers to his life.

Cat wore a visage of mere disagreement, though a haughty look festered just beneath the surface, begging to excise those tumors from his once peaceful indifference with an outbreak of calculated self-destruction that would surely leave him without friends.

Like he'd always deserved.

He shook the thought from his mind, begging his mind to muster a response. "I know I have to, and I hear what you're saying," he starts with far more difficulty than it should reasonably take, "but I need more time. It's cruel to force that upon someone in the moment and you both know it. I don't know why we're still arguing this - I'm going to take my time and Adora's just going to have to deal with it."

Bow finally spoke up again, his rage finally boiled over. "What was all that at the party about trying to make things right with her? She thinks you hate her. Are we really doing this again? When are you going to grow up, Cat? She needs you."

The two of them end up at the park just after sundown. They sit atop a bench beside the gazebo, quietly munching on some postponed breakfast sandwiches in a comfortable silence.

After they've both finished, Adora pushes past the barrier between them, inching closer to Cat under the guise of showing off a picture on her phone. Cat doesn't object, slinking a little closer in turn.

Adora seems to notice the lacking distance only then, as her face turns gray and downtrodden. She can't manage to look Cat in the eyes as she says, "I'm really sorry about the party, Cat. We can pretend it never happened, and I promise I won't ever do anything that makes you uncomfortable like that again, I've just felt this way for so long and-"

Cat pours over Adora's face, failing to find an ounce of regret. It doesn't feel right, it doesn't feel safe, but he knows he has to.

She needs you.

Masking his discomfort, he looks straight into her eyes, half-cocks a smile, and whispers, "I have a crush on you, too." His tail sways as his heart sets alight, now unburdened by the weight he's carried for over a decade now. Something still lingers, but it doesn't matter right now because all he can feel is vibrancy and unbridled fearlessness.

Grief vanishes from Adora's eyes and is swiftly replaced with disbelief, and then elation. "You- really? For how long?"

Cat inches closer, pulling Adora into a side-hug. "Only just realized it a few days ago. Not sure how long before that. Don't remember how it feels to be without this feeling." He's slurring his words a little through happy tears, burying himself in Adora's shoulder and neck. 

"Cat..." Adora places a gentle kiss on the top of his head and he melts, feeling sincerely loved for the first time in his miserable life. He draws his face back, unsurprised to see the beginnings of tears in Adora's eyes, and then he's leaning forward and she's moving to meet him, their eyes never breaking until the moment they both close - and then bliss, a loss of sensation that tears away the rotten pieces of him and builds them anew as their lips meet and meet again, that unforgettable dream finally come to life, and she can feel her lips against her own as all words losing meaning in the rapturous excitement of freedom, no longer cloistered by despair.

Seconds, minutes, eons too soon, it all comes to a close and Adora stares back at her with nothing but adoration. The world reorients itself. Words regain their meaning. Only then does it hit her- him.

I'm not like her.

He brusquely pushes Adora away, standing from the bench and staggering back until he hits the grass below, looking up but seeing nothing, no trees, no clouds, no stars. Empty. Alone. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve her. His dream blinks into his mind and warps, warps until he can see himself for what he truly is: a disgusting, vile monster that yearns only to take and take and take, never giving never improving never loving never growing, never being to her what she is to him.

I'm not allowed to do this.

The hollowness in his chest expands to a crevice, dropping him down to the depth below where all he can feel is wrong, discomfort, disquiet, a body that isn't his. All roads lead him back to his dream, that wonderful solace of a place where he finally felt secure and free of his hideous body, his maligned features replaced in entirety by her, his mirror, the other Cat. He isn't her. He's wrong. He doesn't fit. He's wrong. He'll never be her. 

He's wrong.

It all burns away as immeasurable time passes.

When his eyes finally regain focus, Adora is gone.

Cat runs.

Chapter Text

Adora eliminated the remaining distance separating them, melting into Cat's reluctant, tender lips. She cautiously wrapped an arm around to pull them both deeper, relishing in the sound Cat choked back. Her heart hammered in her chest, enamored as Cat finally kissed back, desperate and hungry, as though pulling away would be the death of them. Cat's fangs dug into her bottom lip and tugged ever so slightly, if for just a moment, then at last they parted. Adora endured the bliss, finding herself lost in Cat's eyes and in the ecstasy of a love finally reciprocated - while Cat stood paralyzed, eyes empty as she drowned in dread.

"Still don't wanna talk about it, I'm guessing?"

Adora shakes her head, weary from another sleepless night. She traipses over to the trunk and slings her backpack inside, maneuvering it around the three suitcases she had bought the night prior, 'in case she wanted to bring any clothes'. Her movements border on languid as she closes the trunk and drops into the passenger seat, though Glimmer graciously makes no comment. 

Glimmer starts the car with a grimace. "You know I love you, right?" The subtext is obvious, even in Adora's current state, so she merely nods a reply. 

The asphalt quickly becomes a blur. Clouds loom overhead, threatening rain but never delivering, creating a surreal calm that was easy to sink into, to get buried in.

When Adora awoke, it was to a crack of thunder and pouring rain. She glances to her left. Glimmer visibly shakes from anxiety in the driver's seat with her wipers at max. Adora fidgets with a dial, turning on the radio just in time to catch an ad break.

Glimmer presses a button on the steering wheel, silencing the noise. She grips the wheel with every fibre of her being, no doubt preparing to give the lecture Adora had been expecting.

"Fuck, this is so much harder than I thought it'd be. Look, I'm- I'm sorry for all the stuff at the party. I was drunk, and I know I hurt you and Cat with the dumb shit I said - Bow's made that plenty clear to me. I haven't been behaving like a sis- like a friend to you. I was scared Cat was going to fuck up again and- I don't know, I guess I was worried you wouldn't stop chasing him and he'd just end up hurting you. It's my fault for pushing you two together-"

Adora groans. "Glimmer, I don't want to talk about it. Please." She turns away, resting her head on the window and tries to go back to sleep.

"R-right. Sorry."

Glimmer looks over at Adora's sleeping form, nervously drawing breaths as she hits call. It rings thrice before an answer comes.

"Adora, I was hoping you'd call. Your absence was noted." The voice is heavy with something, an uncertain emotion and willful secrecy staining an otherwise intimidating demeanor.

Finding herself lost in thought and silent for far too long, she shakes her head and begins. "Hi, this is Glimmer, Adora's... friend. She's going through a lot right now and won't be able to come in while she recovers - she'll be in Brightmoon.

Hope tsks. "Brightmoon, hm? I'll put a word in with her supervisor, thank you for letting me know."

Glimmer blinks. "As in you're going to fire her?"

A sigh. "That's not something I'm at liberty to discuss with anyone but her. Have a pleasant day."

Click.

"Is Angella-"

"No. She's on a business trip until next Friday."

Adora scarcely tries to hide her relief. The fear of facing her adoptive mother shakes her to her core, the image of Weaver's features burnt into every crease of the fae's expression. For weeks, months, any sharp word or scant remark bit down with torpifying presence, a reminder that she wasn't free - that she'd never be free. 

And she had no right to feel thusly. Cat suffered at the hands of that monstrous woman for far longer than Adora had even known her - took every punishment, beating, and scar meant to relieve Weaver's unbridled anger present in every moment of her woeful life.

Adora laid in her bed and stared at the wall adjacent with vapid complacency, feigning ignorance to the pain being suffered just a few rooms away.

Her watch beeped. She dismissed it without a second thought, then crawled over to her dresser in the dark and pulled out the bottom drawer. She dug around in the space beneath for a few moments before she found her pills. She flicked off the flimsy lid with a thumb, dropping two blue-green ovaloids into her hand. She returned the bottle and reset the dresser. She brought herself to her feet to trudge back to bed to stare at the ceiling as the pills dissolved beneath her tongue.

Rogue thoughts of her anticipated coming out crossed her mind, carrying with them the usual picture of Cat's unwavering support.

Cat, I'm a girl. I think I always have been, I just was afraid of the expectations everyone has of me. Ever since I've started thinking of myself this way, since I started being Adora, I've been happier - much happier. I hope you can understand.

Adora, you know I'd never hate you for something like that. I know how you feel, I've always wanted to be a girl, too - I was scared it would ruin things between us. Maybe this is just the encouragement I needed to take the plunge, too.

I love you, Cat.

She shook her head violently, slamming her temple into the bedpost with a thud. The pain felt just. 

How dare she think of her friend like that?

"What have you told Micah?" Adora finally coughs out.

"Just that you're be home for a little while. I'll leave the rest to you." 

An annoyed look rests on Glimmer's face, and thus Adora remains silent for the remaining car ride.

When they finally pull up to Glimmer's estate, Micah is waiting at the entrance with crossed arms. Adora's anxiety spikes, sinking its needly claws into the inside of her throat and terrorizing every word that would dare attempt to spill out.

And yet his expression is soft, inviting, if concerned. Disappointment bears no hold over him.

"Girls! How was the drive?" His voice betrays his expression - there's a taciturn tone lurking beneath, reticent and mirthless as though a single wrong word could kill.

He's afraid.

Glimmer speaks up, "Was alright, there was an accident that brought us to a crawl for a while there." She grins nervously.

Micah opens his mouth to respond, though manages only to cough. "Sorry, still getting over the bronchitis. Not sure if the Zanam-whatever is helping or hurting, heh."

Silence falls over the group for an uncomfortable moment. 

Adora forces herself to break it, if only to get to bed sooner rather than later. "Glimmer, do you think you could take my bag inside? I- we're going to talk, I think."

Glimmer is gone in an instant, presumably eager to escape this awkwardness.

"So..." Micah starts.

"I told Cat I liked him."

Micah beams for a split second before his expression melts into one of pain. "Ah, I'm sorry." He pauses in consideration. "Did you know your- uh, that Angella rejected me three times before finally giving me a chance?"

Adora clears her throat, dismissing the anecdote. "I, uh... he said he liked me too." Before Micah's confused visage can conjure another story, she continues, "I really don't want to talk about it."

She steps around him, absent of words.

The next few days expose a worrying pattern. Bow asks Adora to accompany her to the store. She declines. Glimmer asks for help with laundry. She accepts. Micah asks Adora if she wants to go out to dinner. She declines.

If Glimmer asks for anything, she's there in a heartbeat, ready to help and overjoyed to be in the presence of a friend with whom her relationship isn't strained - yet the same doesn't go for Bow, someone she thought she'd missed equally much. 

Though I wish he'd give me more space, it's like he doesn't trust me to be alone for even a second.

As if on cue, Bow walks into the foyer and sits across from where she's reading. He seems to deliberate his choice to even attend, but in the end he speaks up.

"You've been avoiding me."

Adora makes no attempt to respond.

Bow sighs. "Look, Adora, if it's about the thing at the party-"

Something about his tone sets her off, and before she knows it she's shouting. "It's not about the party! It's never been about that and I'm sick of everyone treating me like a kicked puppy. I'm an adult and I make my own decisions, you don't get to say shit about it just because you think you know me. You and Micah just keep shoving your nose into my business, playing psychologist when all I want is to be left alone." She all-but slams her book on the side table as she stands, feeling the slightest trace of guilt as she storms up to her room and collapses on the bed.

It doesn't take long for someone to come knocking. Adora doesn't bother responding. Glimmer always just barges in anyways, and everyone else knows to leave her alone.

The door wrenches ajar. She doesn't turn to look as Glimmer saunters over and plops down at the edge of her bed.

"Why do I feel so weird around them?" Adora eventually asks.

Glimmer scoots closer to put a hand on her shoulder. "You got rejected. Things are gonna be weird for a while." The words do little to comfort.

Adora stuffs her face in her pillow. "I don't wanna wait a while. Wanna be normal now."

Silence reigns. Glimmer doesn't speak again, lightly patting her shoulder and doing everything she can to avoid eye contact.

When Adora wakes to the light of dawn, she's surprised to feel foreign skin against her own. Rubbing her eyes, her suspicions are confirmed. Glimmer lies sound asleep, snuggled up beside her. She lets herself linger another few minutes, but ends up extricating herself when an opportunity presents itself.

She finds Micah in the kitchen waiting beside the coffee machine. He gives her a solitary nod, but seems to get the gist that she wants space.

Against her will, though, she finds herself speaking. "Sorry I've been like this."

Micah raises an eyebrow high, seemingly glad to be back in familiar territory. He snags his mug from the machine and sets it aside before making eye contact. "It happens, kiddo. None of us hold it against you."

He turns to grab his mug a little too quickly, causing Adora to startle.

Her adoptive father brings the mug to his lips, looking through her with a knowing gaze. "You still have Ms. Ella's number, right?"

Adora expresses her confusion, but nods. 

He puts on a slight smile. "Give her a call. Angella'd kill me if I tried to give you a pep talk again."

The office is smaller than Adora remembers. A flimsy wooden desk - probably birch - lies cramped in the far corner, partially concealing Ms. Ella's scrunched form.

Adora closes the door behind her, only just then earning the attention of her therapist.

"Adora, it's lovely to see you again." She hurriedly unballs herself, straightening her back in an effort to look presentable. "I was reading your check-in form - please, have a seat. Apologies for the mess, we're, mmm, downsizing."

"Downsizing?" Adora echoes, glancing up at the barren walls and disrepaired furniture.

Ms. Ella excitedly shimmies. "I'm finally joining Netty's counseling center next month!" She smiles dreamily for a second or two. "But that's not important right now. Let's talk about you." She adjusts her glasses and looks down at the printout in front of her. "You say you've been having some issues with your father - can you tell me a bit about that?"

Hearing the words aloud drove a twinge of regret into Adora. "It's, uh, not what it sounds like. I'm just having trouble talking to him like normal, or even simply being around him is awkward. I still love him, of course, but... he doesn't feel as safe as he once did." Idly, she toys with a pen in her hoodie pocket to bring some sense of order to her nerves.

Nodding, Ms. Ella jots something down on her notepad. "You mention relationship troubles on here - has that caused some stress with your father?"

Adora's face goes red as she shirks eye contact. "I don't- I mean, kinda? He wasn't like, disappointed, I don't think, but I did impose on him cuz I couldn't keep it together and I'm really worried-"

"Hey, deep breath. You're starting to spiral, no one's judging you here." The sound of ceramic draws her eyes once again. "Would some water or tea help?"

She does as instructed but declines the beverage with a hand wave. "I'd rather just get through this before I shut down." 

Ms. Ella motions for her to continue. 

"Right, uh... I just don't trust him as much and there's really no reason for it. A-and it's not only him, either, one of my best friends, Bow - I think I've told you about him - he's felt weird to be around, too. It feels like everyone's changing around me and I can't understand them anymore. I- I know the problem is me, but I don't know how to fix it."

A contemplative look paints itself upon Ms. Ella's face, prompting her to ask, "And how is your relationship with Glimmer? Do you feel this same discomfort around her, or is it just the men?"

Adora entirely fails to hide her appallment as the coming wave of fear leads her to the obvious conclusion. "Oh. It's just the men, isn't it? Am I- does this mean I'm an... androphobe?" she questions, vaguely recalling the innumerous pieces of feminist literature Perfuma sent her.

Ms. Ella stifles a laugh. "An androphobe? Adora, being uncomfortable around men after a bad breakup is hardly unusual, especially for women your age. "

"It wasn't a breakup!" Adora shouts suddenly. At the surprised look Ms. Ella gives her, she timidly continues, "We weren't even together to begin with. I said I liked h-him, and then he didn't... I pushed things too far. It was my fault." A solemn thought drifts through her, voice foreign.

He didn't deserve me anyways.

Before she can even afford to consider it, her therapist offers additional commentary.

"Am I correct in assuming this is C▋▋▋▋?"

Indignant, she recoils and brusquely fires back, "He goes by Cat now." She pauses for a moment, adding, "They said they're okay with they/them, too." Pink blossoms in her cheeks, a fact which Ms. Ella notes instantaneously.

A tangible wave of understanding crashes over her therapist. She smiles proudly as she probes further. "Let's focus on that for a moment. You seem really eager to defend Cat and their choice of pronouns - it makes you happy that they've begun accepting they/them, right? Does it feel like progress?"

Adora tilts her head. "I mean, I guess? He- they used to be really transphobic, if you remember all that. I'm just happy to see them getting more accepting."

Ms. Ella still carries that knowing expression as she speaks next, lightly shaking her head. "Adora, what I'm about to say is probably going to be a lot, but I need you to seriously think about it."

She nods trepidatiously.

Her face like stone, Ms. Ella poses, "Have you considered that you might be gay?"

Adora almost laughs. "Of course not! I like Cat."

"But you said that Cat is now using they/them pronouns - if I may ask a hypothetical, would you find them more appealing if they came out to you as non-binary?"

What are non-binary people even like?

She attempts to think it over before responding. "I... I'm not sure? I don't see what the point of this is."

Ms. Ella puts a hand on her chin, leaning forward on her desk. "Another hypothetical, if you would kindly entertain me - how would you feel if Cat were a woman?"

That catches Adora off-guard. "I-if sh- they were a woman?"

Her mind conjures an image of Cat with a black crop-top, jeans, and combat boots. She's confident and mature as she meanders over, effortlessly pinning Adora to the wall with a clawed hand at either side of her head. Slowly, she brings her indigo lips to her ear and whispers Hey, Adora in a raspy, androgynous voice, sending shivers up her spine.

Reality returns to center stage as Ms. Ella looks on at her.

She chokes back tears as she mutters, "Oh. I'm gay."

"So, how was therapy? You seem to be, uh... different? Is that a good thing?" Micah prompts in the midst of dinner, breaking the nigh-fifteen minute silence that had persisted prior.

Glimmer nearly chokes on her rice. "DAD!"

Adora pales, but hardens her resolve enough to respond. "It was alright, I think. Talked about why I've been so weird lately." Hurriedly, she adds under her breath, "also I'm gay."

Micah's face explodes with giddy joy. "That's great, honey!" He looks away for a split-second, biting his lip as though holding something at bay. "Ooh, I get to do it again! Can I say it?"

"Say what?" Adora replies, realizing a moment too late that she's about to be hit with-

A shit-eating grin overtakes Micah's guise. "Hi, gay! I'm dad."

Tangents follow, as per usual - Micah never lets the conversation die from that point on, like he believed even a slight break in momentum was sacrilegious. Eventually, though, Glimmer manages to excuse herself, and Adora follows soon after.

Adora nearly makes it to her door with glazed eyes, planning to retire with little more than a wave goodnight - when a whisper-shout catches her ear. 

"'Dora. You wanna talk about stuff?"

She pauses and holds back a sigh, but relents. "Sure. Your room?"

Glimmer nods. "C'mon." She daintily pushes open the door, traversing the room in a second before descending upon the bed. She clambers up to her desired position, laying up against the headboard with a pillow propped behind her head. Adora follows, nudging the door shut on her way past. She opts to sit at the far side, but a frown from Glimmer draws her in closer.

After they're settled, Glimmer prompts, "So. Therapy. How'd that go?"

Adora bites her lip as she attempts to locate where to begin. "We talked about, uh, how I was all weird around guys lately. I just felt so distrusting of Micah and Bow even though they'd done nothing wrong. I didn't even process it at the time; I acted on instinct and kept my distance and struck down their invitations with fervor."

Glimmer cocks an eyebrow with a devious grin, sending a misshapen 

"How long you practice that sentence in the mirror?"

She blushes. "I didn't- Whatever. Ass." 

Adora watches a bolt of lightning travel up Glimmer's spine as a rare introspective thought breaks free from her heart's prison.

"I think I went through something similar when Bow came out. I mean, I thought I was a lesbian up to that point, so it was a shock to see the person I was kinda into change genders. The attraction didn't fade in the slightest - that's how I figured out I was bi. When I really sat down and thought about it, I realized I would've been happy either way."

A reciprocal jolt hits Adora, realization hitting her. "Oh, stars. Perfuma. I didn't even really think about it at the time. I got the impression she was into me and my brain didn't stop to process her gender."

Glimmer laughs. "And that didn't clue you off that you were a lesbian?"

Offended, Adora barks, "No! I just didn't think! It was a crush of convenience and that's all. I completely wrote it off when I realized I... liked Cat because that 'obviously' meant I was straight."

"How do you know you're not bi?"

A pause. "Because I can't imagine myself being happy with a guy - even Cat, at this point. If things were different, maybe, but not like this."

"Different how?"

Adora thunks the back of her head against the wall. "Can we talk about something else for a sec? I don't want to think about this right now."

Glimmer brazenly nods. "Did you know I had a crush on you when you first moved in with us?"

Adora nearly falls off the bed in shock. "What? You?"

She puts on a pouty face. "Don't sound so offended! It's just... you were the pretty new girl and all, you know?"

Pretty?

Thoughts and memories race through Adora's head. The buzz she felt when Glimmer put a hand on her shoulder. The desperate clawing to earn her foster sister's approval. The constant desire to be around her, the need to make-

"Shit. I think I had a crush on you, too."

Glimmer tsks. "Took you long enough. Worked out better this way, anyways." She looks intently at the far wall, adding, "No offense. Just that I hadn't- haven't given up on Bow. Would've been a mess."

Quiet falls over the room, save for the poorly weighted ceiling fan squeaking every so often.

"You all talk about anything else?" Glimmer finally interjects.

Adora thinks it over, ultimately deciding not to hide the metaphorical bombshell she'd unearthed towards the end of her session. "I found out I was gay because Ms. Ella asked what I'd think if Cat were a woman."

Clearly, Glimmer chose the wrong time to take a sip of her water, because she promptly spits it all over her comforter. A nanosecond later she's crying laughing, furiously messaging something to someone - Bow, if she had to guess.

Taking this as her cue to leave, Adora stands, red-faced, and exits the room. It takes all she has not to slam the door on the way out.

Ring. Click.

"We're sorry, but the number you have dialed is n̷o̵t̶ ̵a̶v̵a̶i̶l̵a̶b̴l̷e̵."

Adora buries her face in her pillow.

It's really over.

Chapter Text

The air in his room is cool, bordering on cold. He makes an empty, drowsy motion at his comforter - forgetting the damn thing to be still interned in the wash. The memory forces a groan from his parched throat, but nevertheless spurs him to at least check the time. He dredges up his phone from its crevice and flicks it on, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Fuck off. I'm sleeping," he calls, hoping Scorpia will get the memo without a diagram this time.

A pause follows. Without warning, she calls through the door, "Wildcattttttt, Perfuma's here. Dinner's on. You promised!"

Cat rolls over to face the wall, making a point to avoid looking in the mirrored glass of his unpowered screen.

Another knock. "Are you naked?"

That catches his attention. "What? Why the fu-"

He hardly has a chance to react before his world turns sideways.

"SCORPIA! SCOR- PUT ME DOWN! WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?" he squeals, flapping his limbs awkwardly in any direction that might impede the unreasonably buff scorpioness. 

The lukewarm leather of the couch breaks his abrupt fall well enough, finally granting him a glimpse at his captor's incessantly upbeat expression.

She slings herself down into the seat beside him, poking him in the ribs. "See? It's nice out here. We made Wanting Soup!"

"The hell is wanting soup?" he mutters, pushing himself up on his elbows. "You mean wonton soup, you dolt?"

Scorpia waves a claw dismissively. "Yeah, whatever." She looks over to the kitchen and smiles, glibly remarking, "Told ya I'd bring him!"

Perfuma calmly steps closer, passing a withering look Cat's way. "Yes, I'm just delighted he's deigned to end his voluntary exile. Scorpia, would you be a dear and get the mail?"

With a salute, she heads off, leaving Cat to fend for himself. He moves to stand, only to find himself blocked in.

Perfuma's voice is restrictedly irate as she casts words in his general direction. "So, Cat. It's been quite a while. How about we have a little chat about what you've been up to, hm?"

Cat merely swallows his pride and nods, only half-expecting to survive the coming conversation.

"Had a talk with Adora yesterday. Seems like she's been going through a lot lately. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

He sighs, disheartenedly offering, "Look, I really don't want to talk about all that-"

"Oh, don't worry, you won't have to talk much," she starts, leveling him with another gaze. "You're going to spend at least the next month with Netossa working all this out, and then you're going to apologize - are we clear?"

"Perfuma-"

"Cat," she sternly interjects, "quit digging. You're going to make it up to my friend so she can get back to living her life, or you're going to lose everyone all over again. I'm done trying to play nice with you. I know your childhood wasn't great, but you're hurting the people I care about and you're taking advantage of my girlfriend's trust. I refuse to let you go on treating people like this."

If Scorpia notices the abject terror on Cat's face when she reenters the room, she makes no mention of it.

"Who's up for soup?"

"How did that make you feel, exactly?"

Cat sits in silence, the wretched backrest stabbing into his shoulder blades like a strip mall masseuse. 

Netty sighs, rolling her knuckles across her 'desk', a cheap plastic foldout card table. "Alright, clear we're getting nowhere with this, so let's try something else. How was the kiss?"

He bolts upright, feeling the red pool in his face as he shoves down the intrusive thoughts.

"Knew it." She brusquely drops an elbow to the table, rattling the desk and sending a jolt up Cat's spine. "You can cut the shit, I know why you're here."

Netty seems to take his silence to mean something other than 'if you say another word, I'm going to jump out the nearest window', so she continues, "I'm 50/50 on whether the issue is that thing you've been keeping repressed because it would make you a massive hypocrite, orrrr that you think you kissed a dude."

"She's not a dude! I-" he stops himself, realizing the trap he's walked directly into.

She smiles. "C▋▋▋▋."

A similar jolt travels the length of Cat's torso, ending in his neck and forcing a shudder.

Netty's smile doesn't waver at his discomfort. "Uh huh." She nudges open a drawer to her side and withdraws a bottle and two novelty zoo mugs. "You drink?"

When Cat looks back with confusion, she rolls her eyes. "You're not paying me. We get to break some rules. Neither of us are drunk enough for this shit, so do us both a favor and take it."

Almost defiantly, Cat snatches the mug and allows his 'therapist' to pour. 

After corking the bottle and setting it atop the desk, she takes an entirely too-large swig and immediately regrets it. "Fuck. That's awful."

Cat approaches his drink with far more moderation, taking a small sip and coming to much of the same conclusion. "What the hell is this?"

She snickers. "Graduation present. Ella's dad is... eccentric." Despite gagging when holding the mug to her lips again, she imbibes yet more of the amber liquid. "No wonder she doesn't drink. This were my first, I'd never touch the stuff."

Biting back a harrowing retort, Cat simply nods. Subtly, he glances down at the pattern on his mug - an otter floating serene in a pool with the rather obvious caption 'Come On In, The Water's Fine'.

Adora would love this mug.

"Big otter fan?" Netty barks with a pointed gesture.

"Nah, just... thinking," he manages to expel almost smoothly despite the surprise. He sips at the vile substance, finding it goes down much easier this time. 

Netty's clearly sees through the lie, if her eyes are anything to go by, but she drops it regardless. "They're Ella's fave. She loves pics of them holding hands. Pretty sure it's still her phone background, actually."

"They're so baby! Look at the one with the little shell!" Adora shouted, drawing the attention of some frustrated adults.

Cat did his best no-hands shushing motion, but smiles regardless. It was rare they'd be treated to anything of the sort, so he was more than happy to see Adora enjoying herself.

Adora gingerly climbed off his shoulders, then crouched down to offer Cat a chance to see over the slightly too-tall barrier. He waved her off. She knew better than to argue by now. 

"Didya know they hold hands when they're sleeping cuz they don't wanna float away?" Adora questioned - again, far too loud.

He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the adults by the signpost. Their science teacher was still busy chatting with one of the chaperones, which gave them at least a few more minutes. "C'mon, let's go look at the turtles. I wanna see a snapper..." 

"They're one of Adora's favorites, too," Cat proffers, lingering in their halcyon days. 

She quirks an eyebrow at that, but again refrains from commentary. "And what about you?"

"Oh, uh... I guess I like cats a lot."

Netty holds up her mug, gesturing to the lion adorning it (alongside the significantly less catchy caption, 'We'd Tell You We Didn't Love It Here... But We'd Be Lion!') "Big ones?"

A little offput by the sudden inquisition, Cat stews for a moment before responding, "Not really. I like tabbies. Have a kitty at home."

"Is that where the nickname came from?" 

Something about her tone seems off, like she's reverting to therapist mode - but the question is innocent enough for a reply. "No, Adora gave it to me. I know it's like," he broadens his hands, motioning towards his tail, "obvious, but I like it more than the shit Weaver assigned me."

She nods, letting the conversation trail off as the alcohol works its way through them. Then, after a short while, "Want me to change it on your file?"

Cat waggles a hand in the air in dismissal, "Don't gotta do all that. Just a nickname."

The refusal doesn't seem to register with her. "While I'm changing that, is he/him still best for you?"

He juts a simple, "yup" and takes another drink, but his mind itches. A few seconds, maybe minutes later, he follows up. "Actually, uh, Adora's been- I mean, uh, I'm fine with people calling me 'them', too."

Netossa beams, making a note on a pad of paper in front of her. "You been experimenting with pronouns and stuff?"

He shakes his head.

"So, if I said, 'I just met up with Cat, they're a client of mine' - how does that feel?" 

To an extent, her eagerness bothers Cat, but it's hardly enough to necessitate snark. "Yeah, that's good- er, good with me, whatever."

Netty stalls, carefully considering her words. "And what if I said, 'That's Cat, she's my-'"

Her words trail off, as though expecting a visceral reaction, but Cat doesn't say anything.

"- she's my client," she finishes, seemingly alarmed she managed to close the thought at all. "You alright?"

"I'm chill," they reply, rolling their tail between their fingers. "I just don't think I care. I'm kinda numb to it, at this point. Everyone around me seems to think I'm something I'm not, acting like they're so slick about it. I don't get it. Why does everyone care so much about whether I wanna be a girl? Not like it makes a fucking difference. Everyone wants to be a girl."

Netossa looks back at them with a bemused, if concerned, expression. "Cat, I don't really know how to tell you this, but most people assigned male are happy that way."

Cat doesn't reply, at first. The spot on their tail they've been rubbing is beginning to bruise, but they're too focused to stop. Finally, they cough out, "So what? Just look at me. I'm not like her. It'd never work out." They sigh, finally dropping their tail, instead tracing seams on their pants with a claw. "Just something I need to get over."

The eyes that look back at them are burdened with sadness, some grotesque degree of pity Cat doesn't think themself worthy of.

"Hun, it's not- that's not how it works. You're looking at this as some all-or-nothing situation." Netossa sets her mug aside, twiddling her thumbs. "A guy wouldn't be thinking this at all. You don't have to know the end result for the process to be worth it."

Tears have long since begun streaming down their face, their eyes and ears scrunched as though afraid of the world itself. "There's no point. I'll never be like her."

"Like who, Cat?"

The claw digs in deeper, poking a hole through. "The girl from my dreams. I- I keep seeing myself lying in bed with- with Adora, and she calls me her princess and all these other sweet things- and- and I have really pretty hair, my skin is clear and soft, my eyes look full and I just feel so... happy. But then it ends. I wake up with that burnt-out look on my face. I look down and I see a man. I see a man with cursory stubble and a flat chest and- and I can't even force myself to accept that's me. It feels like I'm watching a movie of my own life. I... I don't feel like I'm me. Fuck."

Netty steps around the desk and pulls Cat into a half-hug, and only then do they finally allow the sobs to come out unmitigated.

"I'm really happy for you, Cat! It's been the most fulfilling experience of my life and I wouldn't change it for the world, and I just know you're going to turn out great."

Cat stares back at Perfuma with empty eyes, still a little frustrated to be grilled on the specifics of their appointment (even if they did come back somewhat tipsy). 

After a long pause, they finally reply, "Yeah, no."

Perfuma turns to face them, concern spreading across her face like a wildfire. "What do you mean? Are you not excited?"

They chuckle mirthlessly in response. "I'm not doing all that."

Confusion melds with the concern moments before disappointment takes over. "Look, Cat, I know how hard it is to go through this, but you're already most of the way there. You've admitted you're a girl and that you're unhappy with yourself - now's the time to make the change." She sets herself gently beside Cat on the couch with an expectant look.

"I didn't- I never said I was a girl. I just said I realized I wanted to be one." Cat remains steadfast in their acceptance, face even as they deliver the words.

Perfuma breathes deeply, likely willing a blood vessel not to burst. "You are already a girl, Cat. All you had to do to be one was to accept that. I don't," she starts, digging her palm into her forehead, "I don't understand the disconnect here. You did the hard part. It's just some- no, I'm sorry, that's not fair to say. The rest of this is hard, too, don't get me wrong, but it's unbelievably rewarding. I couldn't be happier with who I am now. I can hardly even recognize old pictures of me, I feel so alive now."

"And what happens when I don't make it, huh?" Cat fumes, their tail lashing. "What happens when I get stuck in a gray area where everyone can tell I'm not a chick, but I look too uncanny to pass as a guy? What happens when I'm forced to deal with hate from shitty people, shitty people like me, because they can't see me going either way?"

It's only half the truth, and Cat knows it.

As if I could ever deserve to be happy after what I did to Adora.

Perfuma opts to stay silent for a good while, seemingly processing multitudes in her head. Finally, with a harrowed expression, she offers, "Yeah. I can't claim not to know what that's like. I always thought I was too tall and broad-shouldered to ever 'pass'." She looks down at her lap, nervously running her fingers over one another. "But it's a leap of faith. You can't know how you'll turn out, sure, but you'll still be happier. At some point, I just said, 'fuck it. I'd rather be a clocky girl than a miserable guy', and that's all it took. The first several months, I got hurt by so many people who utterly refused to understand, that saw me as this horrifying 'man' who wanted to prey on women." She paused again, a bit stunned from reliving the memory, before continuing, "But I found my people. I- I still don't pass perfectly, but my people love me for who I am. You've got to trust that you'll find the people that matter, who will see you as you want to be seen without judgement. You already have Scorpia and I - and that's a huge first step. It's just-" she stops, interrupted by Cat's furrowing brow.

They huff at the broken speech. "I'm happy for you, 'fuma, I really am - but I can't take that risk. Hope you can understand." With that, Cat stands and pads silently to their room, leaving behind a befuddled Perfuma.

Over the next several months, the attempted interventions do little else but piss them off.

Perfuma ambushes them from time to time, doing her best to pressure a decision that was never on the table to begin with. Hangouts, car rides - even her usual home-cooked dinners aren't safe, always managing to land on the subject of her latest bloodwork and the ease of making an appointment. As though Cat's hang-up was ever a matter of convenience. 

Scorpia's attempts are markedly more infuriating, almost belittling in their unfathomable naïveté. 

"Hey, Wildcat, I was gonna run by the pharmacy here in a bit. Need anything?" she asked, voice heavy with a faulty, faux-lackadaisical lilt. "Ibuprofen, allergy meds..." She paused, before sharply turning her head to add, "estrogen?"

Netossa simply flashes a disappointed smile any time her inquiries about the topic come up null.

That one hurts the most.

"Hey there, kitten."

Cat grinds their heel into the pavement, steeling their will for the coming storm. "DT. Wish I could say it's a pleasure."

DT laughs boisterously, dramatically tossing their head back all the while. "Oh, I'd forgotten how much I liked you." They give Cat a once-over, stopping midway up their torso. "Huh. Would've thought you'd cracked by now. Guess those mommy issues run deeper than I thought."

A low, unseemly growl forms in the back of their throat. "Stars, it's all any of you dipshits can fucking talk about. You've got the subtlety of a molotov cocktail."

When DT just smiles, Cat knows they've played into their hand, but they can hardly bring themself to care. They start down the sidewalk, Cat trailing a few paces behind.

They've hardly taken more than a few steps when their anxious question slips through their lips. "What exactly is the gameplan?"

DT smirks. "Relax, kitty. You've just got to sit up in your highchair and answer some questions. Really, it's a wonder you're here at all - he still insists on representing himself after his spat with his PD." They twirl a lock of their hair, pointedly looking smug. "I'm sure he's just dying to get another chat with his 'little brother'."

Cat flinches at the moniker, offering little more than a "hmph."

"Anywho, you'll mainly just be sitting in the back while someone else does all the work. Nothing new for a pillow, of course."

A rare silence rests between the two, uncomfortable enough that Cat speaks first. "What the hell made you want to turn coat on Hordak, anyways?"

They roll their tongue in their cheek, popping an exasperated sigh. "Oh, I wanted a knife in his back the moment he shook my slimy little paw. Cannot stand his type."

Cat's confusion drops to their face. "What, criminals? Drug lords?"

A mirthless chuckle. "No, darling. Men," they spit the word, "Neanderthals in suits who think they're owed the world." They pause, an ounce of anger slipping through their facade as they mutter, "Plus, the man wears taupe."

It's surprisingly easy not to grit their teeth at the statement. "Not all men are like that," Cat suggests with little conviction.

DT sighs, a breathy, disappointed thing. "Yes, darling, I'm aware. 'Men' in this sense is merely a euphemism for the villainy of the upper class and their relentless crusade to subjugate the many. Those at the top are nigh-uniformly men, and therefore- ugh, you get the gist, you're not that ignorant."

Cat stirs the response in their mind, at least looking to conjure up a witty retort; when DT beats them to the punch.

"Kitten, now's when you propose a counterargument. Really, it's basic dialectics - do keep up."

The inflammatory statement fails to take hold, and the topic drops.

DT watches as Cat crawls into the back seat of their handler's car, chuckling to themself about the earlier proceedings. An odd sense of pride travels up their spine, but they deny it entry - they have an image to uphold, after all.

"Excuse me, Mx. Torres! ... Would you mind giving a word about your client, the key witness C▋▋▋▋ D'riluth?"

They turn to face the camera, gently tossing their hair. "Oh, darling, I'd love to. See, I've been there for her since the beginning-"