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Bright Moon smelled like flowers. Even inside the castle the scent lingered. It was soft and heady with notes of sun-warmed petals amongst the cool stone corridors washed clean by moonlight. The light here wasn’t harsh like the Fright Zone’s fluorescent overheads or the sterile whites of First Ones tech. No, here it was gentle and gold during the day and silver at night. Adora should’ve felt at peace. But she didn’t. She felt off.
It had started earlier as a scratch in her throat that was easily dismissed. Then a wave of tiredness, but she’d pushed through worse before. She’d dealt with muscle injuries, magical overload, sleepless nights spent poring over restoration plans with Bow and Glimmer. She could handle being tired. She always did. But by mid-afternoon, she was swaying slightly as she stood in the courtyard planning a next mission with the best friend squad. She blinked too slowly at a map she couldn’t quite focus on.
“Adora,” Bow said with his eyebrows furrowing, “You’ve gone over that same route three times.”
“I’m just thinking it through,” Adora replied, her voice a little hoarse.
“You okay?” Glimmer asked stepping closer. “You look kind of pale.”
“I’m fine.” Adora forced a smile. “Just didn’t sleep much last night.” She tried to keep pushing through, but the world tilted a little too sharply to the left.
A hand caught her elbow. It was clawed and warm and familiar. “I’ve got it from here,” Catra told Bow and Glimmer without waiting for agreement. “She needs to lie down.”
“I don’t…” Adora started.
Catra didn’t wait for her to finish. “Not a suggestion.”
The second the door shut behind them, Adora sunk onto the bed, taking in shaky breaths. Every muscle in her body ached. And now that she’d stopped pretending, her body was shivering with fine tremors. Catra knelt in front of her with hands moving with calm and practiced ease as she pulled off Adora’s boots and then tugged the thick jacket from her shoulders.
“You’re burning up,” Catra muttered, feeling heat through her shirt.
“I didn’t want to worry anyone,” Adora mumbled as she swayed forward a bit and Catra eased her back onto the pillows.
“You think this isn’t worrying?” Catra asked, voice gentle despite her words. She reached up and pressed the back of her hand against Adora’s flushed cheek.
Adora’s lashes fluttered. The contrast of cold fingers against overheated skin had her melting into Catra’s touch.
Catra’s features softened. “You take care of everyone else. Let me take care of you for once.”
Catra eased the blanket around Adora and then she disappeared for the briefest moment into the washroom and returned with a bowl of cool water and a soft cloth. She pressed the cool fabric to Adora’s forehead.
Adora exhaled slowly, almost soundlessly, and her whole body seemed to sag under the touch. It was like something deep inside her had finally let go.
“You don’t have to do anything right now,” Catra whispered. “You don’t have to be strong or brave or in control.” She brushed the cloth across Adora’s temple, down her cheek and to the curve of her jaw. “I’ve got you.”
And Adora let her. With a quiet and shaking breath, tears she hadn’t realized were there slipped down her temples into her hairline.
Catra brushed them away tenderly. “You can rest,” she said again as she crawled into bed beside her. She lay curled up behind her with one arm draped gently over Adora’s waist as her other hand stroked through her damp, golden hair. “You always hold everything together for everyone,” she murmured against the back of her neck. “Let me hold you for once.”
Adora didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to.
Her breath evened and her muscles relaxed as her shaking slowed. And for the first time in a long time, Adora just let herself be held. She let herself be loved without needing to earn it.
Catra stayed awake long after Adora drifted off. She watched her sleep with one hand still resting lightly against her back while she counted the steady rhythm of her breathing. And when the fever broke and Adora murmured something soft and wordless in her sleep and shifted closer, Catra placed a feather light kiss to her temple. “You’re not alone anymore,” she whispered. Then she closed her eyes and rested too.
Bright Moon was quiet and still in the early hours of the morning. Soft golden beams filtered in through sheer curtains. Somewhere outside, birds sung softly. Adora blinked awake slowly and her head felt clearer. Her limbs were no longer leaden, and the ache behind her eyes had faded. Her skin was no longer burning, just warm beneath the weight of the blankets. A soft body was curled beside her, and Adora turned her head, just slightly, taking her in. Catra was asleep with her face tucked into Adora’s shoulder. She had one hand resting across Adora’s stomach as if even in sleep she refused to let Adora drift too far.
Adora felt the tenderness, the echo of last night when she’d been too weak to hide and Catra had just stayed with cool hands and softer words. Adora had felt the warmth of being held for no other reason than love. Something thick welled up in her chest, a mix of awe and relief and a fierce, aching gratitude. Adora shifted slowly, brushing a piece of dark hair from Catra’s forehead.
Catra stirred, blinking blearily. “Hey,” she mumbled, voice raspy with sleep.
“Hey,” Adora whispered back.
“You’re awake,” Catra murmured.
“Yeah, I feel better,” Adora replied.
“Good.” Catra yawned, then squinted up at her. “You look less like death. Still pale, though.”
Adora laughed softly.
Adora reached up and took Catra’s hand and held it tightly to her chest. “I didn’t realize how badly I needed that,” she whispered. “Last night, just you staying with me.”
Catra blinked again, more awake now. Her expression shifted to something softer. “I wasn’t gonna leave you.”
“I know.” Adora’s voice broke a little. “That’s what gets me.” She turned onto her side, still holding Catra’s hand between them. “All this time, I’ve been running on autopilot. I’ve been trying to fix everything and hold everyone together. I didn’t even realize how much I was hurting until I couldn’t stand up.”
“I noticed,” Catra said gently. “You carry too much.”
Adora looked down, “I think part of me didn’t believe I was allowed to need anyone.”
“You’re not in the Horde anymore,” Catra whispered and scooted closer. “You don’t have to earn the right to rest or to be held. It’s okay for you to cry, or laugh, or just be.”
Adora let out a shaky breath as her hand tightened around Catra’s. “Why do you always know what to say?”
Catra smirked, a touch smug. “Because I know you.” There was a beat of silence between them that felt full. Adora leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together.
“I love you,” Adora whispered, voice rough with honesty. “So much. I think I loved you last night more than I ever have, just for the way you held me and didn’t let go.”
Catra’s eyes went wide for a second, and then she said softly. “You were easy to love last night. Even all sweaty and delirious.”
Adora laughed, and it caught in her throat again from feeling such real and unfiltered emotion. “I’m serious,” she whispered.
“So am I,” Catra said, brushing her thumb against the side of Adora’s face. “You’re allowed to lean on me. You always have been.”
“I’m going to forget sometimes,” Adora whispered.
“Then I’ll remind you,” Catra murmured.
Adora let her eyes close gently. For a while they just lay like that, curled in close and held together by threads of morning light and whispered truths. The war was over, the universe was healing, and now so was Adora.