Chapter Text
It had been a routine patrol mission, brought on by frustration and restlessness from weeks of inaction; not much more than a glorified stroll along the edge of the Whispering Woods to try to clear Catra's mind. Although they were making progress in their fight against the Rebellion, it was slow going and the weeks had begun to blend together, forming a continuous stream of reading reports and sending out patrols. There were no large battles or sudden counterattacks, just slow, mind-numbingly slow progress, one little Rebellion outpost at a time. They were winning, but it sure as shit didn't feel like much it.
Maybe if she hadn't been so lost in her own thoughts, she would have noticed the odd stillness that had fallen over the forest, or the energy in the air that was slowly building as the evening wore on.
A rustle, further into the forest, finally caught her attention. She snapped her head towards it, claws out and fangs bared. If some rebels were trying to ambush here, she'd make sure they wouldn't live to brag about it. But as she waited there, her ears twitching to catch even the slightest movement and her eyes scanning the forest for any sign of danger, nothing happened. Nothing, not even a leaf moved, or a blade of grass. The stillness was eerie, unnatural.
"Who's there?" she finally called out. Maybe it was some of her own troops goofing off.
The next noise was farther away, but it was enough for her to go on. She set off towards it, skipping over roots and ducking under branches until she ended up in a small clearing. Her eyes went wide as she saw the figure on the far end of it. She swallowed, taking in the giant, unkempt mane of a little girl, the different colored eyes, and the heavy scowl.
And then the little one disappeared into the brushes, leaving Catra more shaken than she'd care to admit.
A week passed until she went back, supposedly for another routine patrol mission. No one dared to question her, of course, and Hordak was too busy to care. As usual.
This time, she noticed that odd stillness as soon as she arrived. It made her fur stand on end, and she had to smooth out her tail more than once just from the unease the forest brought on. Still, she persisted, not sure what she was expecting but unable to shake the urge to press on and find out. Between the first one's tech and Double Trouble, she wasn't a stranger to seeing people she really shouldn't be seeing, but this had felt different, somehow.
With her ears on full alert, it didn't take long for her to pick up on that rustle again, and she set off towards the sound.
Just like the last time, she caught up to the little fur ball in the clearing, catching her by the wrist.
"Who are you?" Catra demanded, but the little one just hissed, swiping at her with her claws. "If that's you, Double Trouble–"
"I'm not trouble!" the little one shouted, hissing at her again.
Catra glared down at her. This wasn't really Double Trouble's style, was it? They were a lot more on the dramatic side, not to mention they were supposed to be infiltrating the Rebellion. "Who are you," she said again, squeezing her grip a little tighter.
"Catra," came the mumbled response.
"That's not possible," she grunted. Still, she let go of little Catra's arm and took a step back. "What are you doing here? Don't try to run," she quickly warned, recognizing how little Catra's body was beginning to tense up as if getting ready to bolt. "I'll just catch you again and drag you back."
Little Catra hissed at her and plopped down on the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees and staring sullenly at the ground.
"I said, what are you doing here?"
"I didn't do anything," little Catra grumbled.
"That's not–" Catra sighed in frustration. The more she saw of this little version of herself, the more the little runt looked and acted like, well, Catra. As if this really was a younger version of herself. She squatted down next to the little one, studying her with narrowed eyes. Stranger things had happened, hadn't they? "You're Catra, huh? From the Horde?"
Little Catra gave her a wary glance, then nodded.
"Then you should know I'm one of the commanders of the Horde." She leaned in, balancing easily on her toes. "Which means you have to follow my orders, and answer my questions. Understood?"
Little Catra narrowed her eyes as well, glaring up at her. "You're not a commander. I've seen all of them, and they're all mean."
"Yeah? Well I'm mean too." She stopped, not sure where she was going with that.
"You look like me." The words were quiet, suspicious. "I've never met someone who looks like me." A hint of something odd flashed across little Catra's face. "What's your name?"
"I'm Ca– just call me Cat."
Little Catra's ears suddenly twitched and she stiffened. "Shadow Weaver's looking for me." Before Catra could react, she had jumped to her feet and dashed into the brushes, leaving Catra alone in the clearing once more.
Catra returned already the next evening, even less sure of what she was doing there than the night before. She hadn't slept much at all and she could tell the others were starting to wonder what these patrols were for, but no one had been brave enough to take it up with her yet.
Arriving at the Whispering Woods, she heard the sniffles before any shuffling of leaves and branches, and something twitched uncomfortably inside her. She found little Catra in that same clearing, curled up with her knees against her chest and her back against a tree, framed by that giant mess of a mane she had never bothered to try to keep in check. When she saw Catra emerging from the forest, she hissed, but didn't make any move to run away.
"Terrifying," Catra drawled as she crossed the clearing. "What's the deal with you?"
Little Catra mumbled something, angrily wiping away tears with the back of her arm. Catra could only pick out "Adora" and "dumb", but that was enough to get the rough idea of it. At least they had that in common.
"Yeah, she's definitely dumb. What did she do this time?" Catra dropped down onto the ground a few feet away, tail swinging lazily. "Rat you out to Shadow Weaver? Abandoned you for Lonnie again?"
But little Catra just shook her head, eyes still fixed on the ground. "Shoved me."
"Sounds like her."
They sat quietly for a while, the silence only broken by the occasional sniffle.
Eventually, something bothered Catra enough to ask, "So, what happened?" She wasn't that interested, not really. Maybe she just wanted to hear what Adora had done, to be reminded of just how much Adora had it coming.
"I–" Another sniffle. "I just bit her. A little. Not even hard." She curled in on herself a little more, folding her tail tighter around her feet. "She said I could," she mumbled.
Catra's tail stilled, her ears drooping slightly. She remembered the urge to chew on things when she was little, both when she was teething and after. It hadn't really been popular with the other kids. "And she pushed you." Adora, being the airhead that she was, had probably just reacted on instinct. It'd be like her to offer herself up as a chew toy, after all.
"Yeah."
"Maybe you should go back and bite her again." Catra's grin was all teeth. "She probably deserves it."
Little Catra looked up. "I didn't mean to hurt her."
Something in Catra's gut clenched and she scoffed. "You won't get anywhere with good intentions, kid." She rose to her feet and adjusted her gloved sleeve. "She'll just use them against you."
She left the clearing without looking back.
Five days passed in a blur. Patrols, reports, a few pointless spats with Hordak, the occasional grunted order to her troops; it all felt so empty. She kept going by focusing on the end goal: complete victory, destroying the Rebellion, driving through Bright Moon with Adora chained and broken. That was what she wanted, what she had worked for all this time, and they were so close.
If only the road there wasn't so soul crushingly monotonous.
She found herself in the forest again that evening, still idly wondering why she kept coming back.
Little Catra was sitting in the same spot where Catra had left her, jabbing the ground with a stick. She looked up when Catra came into the clearing, fear flashing across her face for a split second before she turned down towards the ground again, her mane obscuring her expression.
"You keep coming back here," Catra said. "What's it this time; did Adora push you again?"
All she got was a shake of little Catra's head and a swoosh of her tail.
"She can be a real pain in the ass."
"She's nice," little Catra mumbled, barely more than a whisper. "She said she didn't mean to shove me either."
Catra scoffed. "She can't keep her dumb mouth shut."
That got a rise of out the little one. "You don't know her!" she snapped, her mane fluffing up in anger. "She's my friend and she'll always be my friend, forever."
Catra opened her mouth, ready to cull those naive thoughts before they could ever take root, but something made her hesitate. Instead, she scoffed again. "Whatever. I know her well enough." The words tasted bitterly in her mouth.
Something caught Catra's attention, and from the way little Catra's ears twitched and turned, she had heard it too: a rumbling, probably from a tank, rapidly coming closer. Catra's claws were out and she was already on her feet when she remembered that it had to be a Horde tank; the rebels didn't have anything like that. Still, the realization did little to soothe her, especially when the noise died down and the new arrivals began to speak.
"I don't know, should we really be out here?"
"If she's out here alone, she might need help. Maybe the rebels are attacking through the forest again and she's trying to take them on herself? I know she'd do anything to protect the Horde but we can't let her do everything on her own. That's not what friends do, they–"
"Okay, okay, fine. Let's just get this over with."
Catra's lips curled up in a snarl. Kyle, Scorpia, and Lonnie; of course they wouldn't listen to her. She should go out there and let them know exactly what kind of lazy wastes of space she thought they were, but...
Her eyes flitted down to little Catra, now on her feet as well. She looked wary, maybe even scared, no matter how much she tried to hide it behind that ever present scowl.
"Come on, we have to look for her. She could be hurt!" Catra could hear Scorpia's gasp. "We can't let her down."
She could hear four pairs of footsteps slowly coming closer, mixed in with the rustling of leaves and branches as the squad fanned out in a standard Horde search pattern. Again, Catra hesitated. She wasn't in any danger, obviously. The little runt wasn't in any, either, but for some reason Catra didn't want the others to find her.
It wasn't until the footsteps seemed close enough that Scorpia might step into the clearing at any moment that Catra finally sprung into action, grabbing little Catra by the wrist and dashing farther into the forest, taking shelter in the crown of a tall, old tree where the thick branches would both make sure that they wouldn't be spotted and that they wouldn't fall down. Up in the tree, she yanked little Catra into her lap, keeping one hand loosely over her mouth.
"Stay. Quiet." She murmured the words, her mouth next to little Catra's ears, and carefully let go of her mouth when little Catra nodded shakily. "We'll stay here until they're gone."
"Huh." She could hear Scorpia making her way through the brushes. "I could've sworn I saw something. Was that you, Kyle?"
"What?"
"Nah, he's over here. Maybe you saw a bird or something."
Farther away, Rogelio grunted something.
"They might be here," Scorpia insisted. "Maybe they rebels have bird people? Maybe they're hiding in the trees!"
Catra bared her teeth, tugging the smaller Catra closer to her. Somehow, Scorpia always managed to choose the worst times to be halfway competent.
Rogelio grunted something again, causing Lonnie to laugh.
"Yeah, me too. Not very impressive bird people." She chuckled again. "Kind of nice to be out here without all the fighting, though."
The chatter continued but as the squad moved on and left Catra's vicinity, she stopped listening. Eventually, the rumble of the tank started up again and she finally breathed out.
"Alright," she grumbled and started to move, only to find the little Catra sound asleep, having shifted around and curled up in her lap while she was busy staying alert for Scorpia and the others. Her hand hovered over little Catra's shoulder, but she couldn't bring herself to wake her up. Besides, it wasn't as if she had slept particularly well herself lately.
When she woke up a few hours later, her back ached and little Catra was gone.
Catra tried to stay in the Fright Zone, she really did. One week passed, then another. Every night she dreamed of a little runt of a girl, more mane and teeth than anything else, sitting alone in the forest. Sometimes she thought she could see flashes of blonde hair just outside her periphery, running through the woods too fast for her to catch up.
Seventeen days had passed when she finally found herself in that clearing again, awake and restless.
Little Catra wasn't there.
She had waited first, thinking the little one was hiding, or maybe just late. Then, when the waiting became too unbearable, she began combing through the surrounding woods, listening, sniffing, looking. Still, nothing. In the end, she collapsed onto the ground next to the tree where little Catra had sat the previous time she had found her. She knew this was all ridiculous; she was painfully aware of it. The little Catra probably wasn't even real, just a result of stress and boredom and a chronic lack of sleep.
She was halfway to sleep when the sound of snapping branches and leaves sliding against fabric made her fully alert. A moment later, little Catra stumbled out into the clearing, eyes watery and lip quivering.
Catra was on her feet, stalking over to her before she could think about it. "What happened?"
Little Catra hesitated, then barreled over into Catra, wrapping her arms around Catra's waist in a messy hug.
"That bad, huh," Catra muttered, not sure where she'd even put her hands. When little Catra didn't let go, she put one on the little one's back, rubbing it awkwardly. She didn't do... whatever this was, but she couldn't bring herself to push little Catra away. "Adora again?"
But little Catra just shook her head, still doing her best to bury herself in Catra's midriff. "Shadow Weaver."
Catra's hand stilled and her ears flattened, and she had to fight the urge to bare her claws. She didn't know what that old hag had done, but she could imagine. "Well, she's not here," she grunted.
Again, little Catra shook her head. Her mane flailed wildly. "She's looking for me."
Swallowing hard, a useless attempt to get rid of the know that was rapidly building in the base of her throat, Catra frowned. "She won't find you here." She let out a hollow chuckle. "And even if she did, I'd rip her to pieces before she could do anything."
The only response she got was some more sniffling, but little Catra's grip became just a little bit less tense.
"Look, kid. She seems scary now, but one day, you'll be way stronger than she ever was."
"But she said–"
"You won't have to listen to her. You won't have to listen to anyone." She pulled little Catra away enough to crouch down to her eye level. "You're going to be even stronger than Hordak. And you won't let anyone get in your way ever again. Not Shadow Weaver, not Hordak, not–" She swallowed again, pushing away thoughts of friends and promises. "No one will be able to hurt you."
Little Catra's watery eyes stared into hers, and Catra could tell the little one almost believe her. "You're me, aren't you?" little Catra said. "From when I'm big."
Catra stiffened, then sighed. "Yeah. I think I am."
Little Catra watched her with wide eyes, her pain from earlier all but forgotten. "Are you that strong now? Stronger than Shadow Weaver?"
Catra's grin was all teeth. "Yeah." She sat down with her back against the tree. "And Hordak."
Without much warning, Catra found herself with a face full of messy hair as Catra plopped down in her lap and made herself comfortable. She sighed, already resigned to being a glorified seating arrangement to this wild haired disaster of a child. As little Catra began to purr, Catra absentmindedly ran her claws through the little one's mane, bringing some sense of order to the chaos there.
"Is Adora big too?"
Her hand froze for a moment until she could force it to continue. "Yes," she bit out, her tail lashing out in displeasure. "She's big."
"Bigger than you?" Little Catra turned to look up at Catra, barely any of that earlier suspicious left in her gaze.
Catra scoffed, thinking about seven foot women with enormous swords and even bigger hair. "Afraid so."
"Good. Then you can kick everyone's butt so no one's mean to you ever again."
"Not exactly," Catra muttered. Staring into her younger self's eyes, a thought hit her. "But you could do that on your own. You don't even need Adora."
Little Catra scowled and her tail whipped out in a burst of anger. "But I want Adora! And you said no one would ever tell me what to do ever again! So you can't tell me either!"
Rolling her eyes, Catra let her head slump back against the tree. She couldn't remember she had been this much of a brat when she was a kid, but maybe that had just been wishful thinking. "You're not that big yet, though. So I can still tell you what to do. And I'm telling you to not trust her. She'll let you down and push you aside. Just like she did before."
With a hiss, little Catra jumped up, making sure to step right on Catra's belly in the process. "She promised we'd be friends forever. She promised," she hissed before running off into the woods.
When Catra came back two days later, little Catra hissed at her. Catra's lips turned up in a faded smile. She was starting to see why Adora hadn't found her particularly scary when they were kids.
"Go away."
Catra ignored her, instead sitting down in front of her. "I told you about Adora because I know what's going to happen if you trust her."
"You're wrong!"
"Wish I was," Catra muttered, "but I'm not. If you want to make it, you'll have to do it without Adora. You can't depend on her. You can't depend on anyone."
Little Catra hissed at her again, her mane fluffing up in anger. "You're wrong! You're just like Shadow Weaver!"
A hot, painful shiver shot up Catra's spine. "I'm not," was all she was able to get out through her gritted teeth.
"She doesn't want me to be with Adora either. You're both wrong!" She stumbled to her feet, wiping away angry tears.
Feeling like the ration bars she'd had for dinner were trying to crawl back up her throat, Catra swallowed hard. "Wait."
Her eyes were still glistening and her breath was uneven from sniffling, but little Catra stopped, halfway to the edge of the clearing.
"Look, I'm..." Catra took a shaky breath, drawing a hand through her mane. She pushed herself to her feet and walked over to little Catra, crouching in front of her. "I'm not like her. Shadow Weaver wants to use you; I want to help you."
"But you don't want me to be friends with Adora," little Catra said, her voice cracking mid-name.
"Because she'll just–"
Both of them froze, ears twitching. Someone else was there. Acting purely on instinct, Catra spun around, claws out and ready to pounce on anyone stupid enough to try to sneak up on them.
A figure emerged from the woods, and Catra's eyes widened. Messy mane put up in a ponytail, different colored eyes, some kind of cape covering one arm. At least the new arrival looked about as confused as she felt.
"Oh," she said, an eyebrow cocked. "This is new."
"You're also me," Catra said. It wasn't even a question. "From... the future?"
The older Catra shrugged. "Guess so." She looked over to little Catra, still standing partially behind Catra. "Couldn't help but hear what you were talking about. Or, you know, who you were talking about."
Catra let out a noise of disgust. "Let me guess, you've got some future wisdom for me?" She narrowed her eyes, claws still not withdrawn. "Or this is all something the Rebellion came up with and you're here to–"
Older Catra rolled her eyes, cutting her off with a frustrated sigh. "Man, I had almost forgotten how messed up I was back then," she muttered. "No, I'm not some masterminded plot. I don't even know how I'm seeing you."
"Are you Double Trouble?" Catra asked, beginning to circle the newcomer. "Or are you something else they made to try to make me give up." She scoffed. "They're getting desperate, aren't they? We're this close to ending the Rebellion once and for all, and now you show up. You both show up. It's too convenient."
"Do we really have to do this?" the older Catra said, more bored than anything else. "We both have better things to do than fight."
"Yeah?" Catra grinned. "Or maybe you're just scared you'll lose." She leaped forward, lashing out with her claws, only missing the older Catra's chest by a few inches. Ducking under a swing of the older Catra's leg, she saw an opening and swept her free leg clean off the ground. A second later, she had the older Catra pinned to the ground.
"Are you done?" the older Catra grumbled, making no move to get free.
"You're weak," Catra scoffed.
"Well, I don't have to spend all my day taking over the world anymore. Kind of put a dent in my workout routine."
Catra stared down on her, her hands still pinning the older Catra's to the ground. "Why should I believe any of this is real?"
"If it isn't, what's the point in fighting me?" came the annoyed response. "Seriously, not everyone is out to get you."
Something about her felt... familiar. It wasn't the eerie but not quite perfect similarity of Double Trouble's disguises, or the oddly one-dimensional and distant memories she had experienced back with the First One's tech. This strange version of herself looked so much like herself she felt like she could almost tell what she was feeling and thinking just by looking at her.
Reluctantly, she got to her feet and backed away, half-expecting the other Catra to jump her.
Instead, the older Catra looked over to little Catra with a warm smile Catra barely recognized. "Hey there, kiddo. Sorry about the fight."
"You're also me," little Catra said, still lingering behind Catra. "Are you older than her?"
The older Catra snickered. "Oh yeah, you're both kids compared to me."
Little Catra glared up at Catra. "She said I shouldn't be friends with Adora anymore."
"Yeah?" The older Catra met Catra's eyes with an expression she couldn't figure out. "How'd that work out for you?"
"It worked out fine," Catra snarled. "We're this close to ending the Rebellion for good. Without Adora."
An angry hiss was all she got from little Catra before the little one spun around and ran out of the clearing, disappearing into the underbrush once more.
"You know I'm right. I didn't get this far depending on Adora or anyone else, and I don't need to!"
The older Catra studied her with that same odd expression. "I know, I've already been through this. You are the younger me, after all." She gave Catra a once over, not looking particularly pleased with what she saw. "You've already sent Entrapta away, right? And Hordak's hiding out in his lair."
"Yes, and when I finally finish conquering Etheria, I'll get rid of him too."
"And then?"
Catra frowned. "I'll have won. I can do whatever I want. I'll be the head of the Horde." She chuckled. "The leader of all of Etheria."
"Sure, right. But what are you going to do. Rampage through the country side? Make every day a princess-hating holiday?" She smiled, and it was somehow both soft and condescending. "Lock up Adora somewhere and throw away the key?"
Catra's frown deepened. She didn't have time to think about all that before Etheria was fully conquered. It split her attention and weakened her resolve. No, the one thing she had to focus was wiping out the Rebellion.
"You figured out stuff to do, didn't you?" she shot back.
"Yeah, but–" The older Catra hesitated, her ears flattening slightly.
"But what?" Catra took a step closer, claws ready. "Tell me, or I'll knock you on your ass again!"
The older Catra didn't look the least bit frightened, something that only served to frustrate Catra further. Before she could act on her impulses, however, the older Catra continued.
"I didn't win the war. The Horde lost. Everyone lost, kind of. And then... won. It's complicated." She sighed. "But I don't remember talking to an older version of myself back then, so maybe you won't actually do what I did. Maybe you'll be luckier." Something about the way she said that last word made it sound a lot less positive than Catra expected.
But she needed to focus. She needed to focus on the one goal she had, the one goal she had clung to all this time. Winning the war, defeating the rebels. Leading the Horde. That was what she had worked for and that was what she was going to do.
"I won't be luckier," she snarled. "I'll be better."
She stalked away with her claws digging into her palms hard enough to draw blood.