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The Enemy

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The first thing that Catra thinks is how luxurious her prison cell is. It’s nicer than anything in the Fright Zone—even her barracks weren’t this nice. This large. This PLUSH.

She wonders if this is an attempt to catch her off guard. If so, they probably shouldn’t have left her alone for so long. (Also there’s a bird perched outside her window and it’s pissing her off that the window is locked because she wants to CATCH IT SO BAD.)

She wonders when the interrogation is going to start. And, for that matter, what they’ll be interrogating her for. It’s not like she knows anything important.

She hears an unfamiliar sound—someone is knocking on the door. “Catra?” Adora’s voice. Catra’s heart skips a beat. “May I come in?”

“It’s not like I can stop you,” Catra says. She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms behind her head. Taking command of the room.

“Hey, Adora,” she purrs as her old friend—the one who betrayed her—peeks her head in through a crack in the door. She needs to be in control immediately, or else she’s dead—wait, is Adora blushing?

“Just… needed to make sure you were okay,” Adora says. “I keep having these nightmares—”

“Look, She-Ra,” Catra interrupts, biting off each syllable as it leaves her mouth. “You’ve chosen your side. Stop pretending you care about me and just get on with the interrogation already.”

Adora’s eyes snap toward her, wide and brown and watery. “Interrogation?” she murmurs.

“Why else would you need me,” Catra grumbles. “Not like we’re—”

“They were torturing you!” Adora yells. “I couldn’t just—we—” She balls up her fists, and Catra realizes that she’s trying not to cry. “I had to get you out,” she whispers.

There’s a moment when all Catra can do is stare in shock at the girl before her, the girl who abandoned her, reduced to tears by the thought of her pain. Then… “Wait a sec,” Catra says. “How did you know they were hurting me?”

Adora collapses against the door with an audible thunk. “I… I…” She freezes, then pulls a knife from her belt and jabs the tip into her palm.

Catra feels the stab, and when she looks down, her palm is bleeding in the exact same place that Adora poked in her own. She looks up, sees Adora looking back at her, looks back down—and suddenly everything makes sense. Adora didn’t come back for her. She came to protect herself.

Catra tries very hard not to snarl.