Chapter Text
I don’t know what I did to deserve this.
This was the thought that plagued Catra’s mind as she failed to sleep for the 4th night in a row. By all accounts, she should have been exhausted. She’d spent the past four days wandering the deserted streets looking for someone, anyone. The first day had been frantic. She woke up in her own bed, unsure of how she got there, to nothing. Not a sound. Which, in her house at least, could only mean that something terrible had happened.
Her roommates were, to put it gently, the loudest people on the planet. Scorpia was a chronic morning person with about as much chill as a fucking ghost pepper, and Entrapta always had some weird ass experiment that never failed to shake the apartment and wake the neighbours. And the neighbour’s neighbours for that matter. Suffice to say that neither Catra nor the landlord could go a day without being accosted by some poor soul who just wanted to sleep in.
That was her first sign. Silence. Catra had tried to look at the ancient alarm clock that sat on her bedside table, but it didn’t display any numbers, only a flat line that, if one would stare for long enough (which Catra did in the days that followed), would occasionally rise and fall sharply, returning to its usual, horizontal position almost immediately. After being sufficiently confused by the clock, Catra decided that Entrapta must’ve fucked with it at some point in the night. She was always messing with stuff like that, something about wanting to know how it worked. Catra and Scorpia had once had to tie Entrapta down to stop her from taking apart the gas stove in the kitchen, keen to avoid a gas leak.
A terrible thought crossed Catra’s mind as she pulled on a hoodie, suddenly very cold. Oh fuck, something happened to them. With that, she burst out of her bedroom into their living room to be met with the sight of… nothing. Well, their apartment obviously, though surprisingly clean. But nothing else. Catra didn’t know whether to be relieved or more worried. The sun was out, so neither of her roommates should be asleep. Catra checked their beds, anyway, finding them empty. Made, as though no one had slept in them before. Catra tried to rationalise it, maybe Scorpia had stayed the night at Perfuma’s, and Entrapta had that weird guy she called her ‘lab partner’ (which Catra was sure was code for boyfriend, but Entrapta never admitted it). Though, Scorpia would always text when she stayed with Perfuma.
I didn’t check my fucking phone, Catra thought, kicking herself. Of course she’d let herself freak the fuck out before trying to call them, what an idiot. She set about the apartment, trying to find her cell. She searched her room first, and thoroughly at that, before turning the rest of the apartment over trying to find the dumb thing. Once she was sure it wasn’t anywhere, even somewhere ridiculous like the fridge or under the doormat, she went back to her room to flop onto her bed and let herself freak out again. Only to find her stupid phone plugged in on her nightstand next to her stupid malfunctioning alarm clock.
She grabbed at it immediately, hoping to find messages in the group chat between Catra and her roommates, but she found nothing. Literally nothing this time. When she looked at her phone’s screen it was almost as if the whole thing ceased to exist. Catra would believe it wasn’t there if it weren’t for the weight of the thing in her hand, or the fact that it would spring back into existence once she turned it to the side. At this revelation, she threw the phone across the room.
This is fucking weird.
Catra decided that enough was enough. She’d just go to Perfuma’s apartment herself. It was just a short bus ride away and, though she’d never admit it to Scorpia’s face, Catra would never forgive herself if something had happened. Too worried to be concerned about her appearance, Catra left her apartment in the pyjamas and hoodie, barely stopping to put on shoes and grab her keys before she left. She pushed the button to call the elevator maybe a little harder than was necessary and waited impatiently for the doors to open. After what felt like an age, the doors slowly opened, and Catra went to barge in. She barely stopped herself in time. The elevator wasn’t there, the doors had opened out into the shaft. Another step and she would have plummeted down eight floors, probably to her death.
Catra silently cursed Entrapta, after all the purple haired girl had probably messed with the elevator. Feeling only slightly guilty for cursing her friend when she wasn’t sure if she was okay, Catra tentatively opened the door to the stairwell. Suddenly plagued with a feeling of impending doom, Catra decided against throwing herself through a door before checking what was on the other side first. She felt like an idiot when she was presented with the familiar sight and smell of the piss-stained stairwell of her apartment building, but she sure would rather feel like an idiot than accidentally killing herself if it wasn’t there.
That’s a stupid thought. An elevator shaft, sure. It’s not like it was completely unheard of for the damn things to malfunction, but a stairwell disappearing? How the fuck would a whole ass stairwell disappear? Catra was sure she was losing it. She didn’t remember getting home, maybe she’d hit her head. That would account for the weird clock and the phone and the sense that she was going to die any second, sure, but not the elevator or her missing roommates. Plus, her head didn’t hurt. Maybe she had lost her mind.
Catra hurriedly made her way through the usually busy streets of Brightmoon, headed straight for the bus stop a block away from her apartment. Wait. Catra stopped in her tracks, taking a moment to survey her surroundings. Where is everyone? The street was empty, save for a parked car or two. Not a single person in sight. Catra stood and listened for a few minutes, desperate to hear the rumble of a car engine, or the sound of someone grumbling about their morning commute, hell Catra would settle for the sound of an insect or two right about now. But the sound never came. All Catra heard was the sound of her own suddenly erratic breathing.
Brightmoon was a busy city, and Catra’s apartment was right in the heart of it. She couldn’t remember the last time she left her apartment without being barged by some asshole in a suit who couldn’t get their head out of their ass for long enough to look where they were going. Something was wrong. Actually wrong. Catra had every right to feel like there was some kind of impending doom. Fuck.
Catra ran to the bus stop and waited for an embarrassingly long time before remembering the current set of circumstances she’d found herself in. Terrible thoughts crossed her mind. Was there an evacuation no one told me about? An alien invasion? The fucking rapture? What if-
No.
Catra refused to let herself spiral. Instead, she rose to her feet and with shaky legs walked about as calmly as she could manage (not at all calmly) to Perfuma’s apartment. She pressed Perfuma’s buzzer, as well as the buzzers for every other apartment in the building for good measure, and waited, begging whatever deity or higher power she could think of for someone, anyone to answer the stupid door. No one did. Fuck. Holding on to whatever sliver of hope she could muster, Catra threw herself against the door to the apartment building, telling herself she would pay for the damage later. Surprised at how easily it bust open (and the fact that it didn’t hurt even a little), Catra tentatively walked into the lobby. Slowly, like an idiot, Catra opened the door to the stairwell, ensuring that there was definitely solid ground for her to step onto.
Catra practically sprinted up the four flights of stairs to her friend’s girlfriend’s apartment. Perfuma’s your friend now too, dummy, Catra thought, paying no attention to the fact that she wasn’t out of breath after sprinting up the stairs. She checked behind the door out of the stairwell, fucking idiot, and stepped into the very real hallway. It was long, much longer than she remembered. In fact, she was sure it was too long. Is the building this wide? Catra pushed the thought aside as she finally reached apartment 407. Not bothering to hide her worry, Catra pounded on the door.
No one answered, so she kept pounding. She didn’t stop until she was sure her knuckles must be bleeding and pulled her hand back to observe the damage. Her skin remained unbroken, and she felt no pain. What the fuck is going on? Catra was done waiting. Like she had done with the door downstairs, Catra threw herself against the door to her friend’s apartment. Again, she was surprised at how easily it gave, though this time she didn’t stop to check for solid ground.
Of course, this would be the time there was none. Catra fell through the newly open door to find no ground waiting to hold her up. She barely managed to grab onto the doorknob before she fell. Her breath quickened as she dangled above an expanse of nothing. Literally nothing. Below Catra, there wasn’t an inch of solid ground. Instead, she found herself staring down at a sucking pink void. The door jolted, starting to fall off its hinges. Grateful for the few years she spent doing gymnastics in high school, Catra swung the door and grabbed onto the ledge of the longest hallway in existence. Or wherever the fuck this was. Pulling herself onto solid ground with little effort, Catra took a moment to catch her breath. Or rather, she breathed heavily for a minute or two, believing that she should’ve been more worn down by what had just transpired.
She spent the rest of the first day running across Brightmoon, finding nothing but empty buildings and the occasional sucking void. You’ve fucked it now, Driluth, Catra thought to herself as she re-entered her apartment long after the sun had set, being extra careful to ensure there was something to enter into. She decided that this wasn’t reality, or at least her reality. She knew two things about wherever she was, one was that it liked to fuck with Catra, lulling her into a false sense of security before presenting her with another void. The second thing she was sure of was that she was alone. She was sure she’d walked every damn street in the city. Save for the ones that were currently not there, obviously. Not only had she failed to find another person, but she’d also failed to find another living being. Not a single rat around the garbage cans that she knew they lived in by her favourite restaurant, nor a single ant or fly. She’d even gone to the park to claw through the dirt hoping to find a worm. She never thought she’d be disappointed to not have one of those slimy assholes in her hand.
After walking what was probably the most Catra had ever walked in her life, she expected to crash the second she fell into bed. The ‘the moment your head hits the pillow’ kind of deal, so imagine her surprise when she sat, awake, staring at the stupid alarm clock until the sun came up. Catra wanted to be mad, she should’ve been exhausted, and she’d certainly earned a good night sleep, but of course, it never came. Rule number one of Catra’s new reality, it liked to fuck with her. At least I’m not tired, Catra thought as she climbed out of bed on the second day.
Even though she sniffed herself and was met with an unfamiliar but pleasant odour, Catra decided that she needed a shower. The idea of the hot water running through her hair and down her back was too enticing to resist, so she shed the pyjamas she’d been wearing for too long and turned on the shower. She had hoped that her worries and concerns would wash down the drain, but when she stepped under the high-pressured water (thanks Entrapta) she was met with nothing. No warmth, no sensation, nothing. It was as if the water wasn’t there. Catra shivered and, for what must’ve been the hundredth time since this whole thing started, felt like an idiot. She stepped out of the shower and went back to her room, not bothering to turn off the water. What, is someone else gonna need it? Catra thought, of fucking course, if this stupid place won’t let me sleep then obviously it won’t let me shower.
Catra allowed herself to wallow. She pulled on a pair of stained sweatpants and her favourite flannel and flopped onto the couch in the living room. She screamed, cursing wherever she was, and then cried. Or rather, tried to cry. Despite the shitty situation and Catra’s best efforts, her eyes remained dry. Fine, if you won’t let me be sad then I’ll get fucking angry. Catra pulled herself off the couch and stormed into the kitchen. With enough force to pull it off its hinges, Catra ripped open the kitchen cabinet and grabbed the plates stacked inside. One by one, she threw each of the plates against the back wall of her apartment, cursing every part of this fucked up world. As each plate shattered, Catra let off a bone chilling scream. She discovered that her lungs continued to fill themselves despite the constant exhale of screaming, so Catra never ran out of breath. The whole thing would’ve felt cathartic if didn’t feel so… so… fuck.
Catra couldn’t put her finger on it. I bet the German’s have a word for it, she found herself thinking. The closest word she could think of was ‘surreal,’ but that didn’t capture it at all. The whole thing felt surreal, sure. Catra was in some kind of fucked up dream world, obviously it was surreal. But also, there was something scarily tangible about the world around her. In dreams, the sun didn’t rise and fall in the predictable way the sun did in this world. In dreams, the world around you would be different, even if you knew the place like the back of your hand but here, Brightmoon was the same old Brightmoon, despite the sucking voids and lack of people. In dreams, you couldn’t feel a pinch but here, Catra could pinch herself and feel it, just not the same as when she was home. She felt the pinch, sure, but there was no pain. Whatever this place was, it wasn’t a dream, Catra was sure of it. Or at least, sure it wasn’t just a dream.
After well and truly destroying any crockery she could get her hands on (including the neighbour’s, sorry Razz) Catra decided to test the limits of this place. Within reason, of course. Catra hated it there, but she didn’t have a death wish. So, she carefully made her way out of her apartment building, avoiding the elevator and checking behind every door for sucking pink voids. She walked for a while, unsure of what she was actually planning to do. It was only when she found herself in the Brightmoon Athletic Centre that she realised she’d had a plan all along. The pool. If she didn’t feel the water in the shower and could scream for thirty minutes without needing to take a break, surely she could sit underwater indefinitely.
As she stood on the edge of the Olympic sized swimming pool this place advertised on every bus that ran even remotely close to the city, Catra faltered. She’d always hated the water, even when she was a kid. She’d heard the social worker telling her new foster mother that her parents had drowned when she was only three. Catra would be certain that was her first memory if she didn’t have the faintest memory of a woman’s face, not dissimilar to her own, smiling at her from the front seat of a car. So, standing on the edge of the impressively huge pool caused Catra to take pause. She’d never learned how to swim, so what if she was wrong? What if, when she stepped foot into this water, it behaved exactly in the way that water should? What if she was about to drown herself to test some stupid theory?
So, Catra sat. For a long time, she sat at the edge of the pool watching the fluorescent lighting bounce off the water as it rippled, contemplating how bad of an idea this was. Eventually, she mustered up the courage to put a hand in, careful to hold onto the ladder with her other hand. She placed her hand in the water and gently pushed it back and forth. As she predicted, nothing. No change in temperature, no sensation of the water rushing between her fingers, not even that weightless feeling everyone told her she’d feel if she just jumped in.
That was enough for her. Catra had been around Entrapta whilst she rambled enough to understand the basics of the scientific method. She’d had her hypothesis, she’d tested it, and she had got the results she’d expected. Now she could safely take her next steps. Unfortunately for Catra, the next steps were the ladder descending into the depths of her worst fear. No big deal. Of course, she could back out. No one was around to judge her for not getting in. But this wasn’t about overcoming her fears. Sure, it was terrifying, but the morbid curiosity swelling in the back of Catra’s mind won out against the fear.
Oh so carefully, Catra lowered herself into the water. It felt as it had on her hand, which obviously was not at all. It would be as if the pool was empty if not for her clothes floating around her. The water was up to her neck, and there was still space for her to lower herself before her feet even thought about touching the floor. For the first time since waking up the day before, Catra actually felt her chest tighten and her heart rate rising. Clinging to the ladder like it was the only thing keeping her alive, Catra steeled herself. This was your choice, Catra told herself, now live with it.
Catra took a deep breath and finally put her head below water. At first it was disorienting, though it was hard to describe why. Her head felt different to the rest of her body. There was no change in temperature, but it felt as though the air around her had gotten thicker, less accessible. Obviously the air is inaccessible, idiot, you’re under water.
Panic started to well up in her chest again, and Catra pulled her head back above water despite her own insistence on trying this out. Quickly and sloppily, Catra climbed the ladder and flopped onto the tile. She knew if she was in her own reality she’d be gasping for breath, maybe even on the verge of a panic attack, but here she only felt the panic in her chest, and even that subsided the moment she left the water.
This was stupid.
Collecting herself, Catra stood and walked with purpose out of the stupid Athletic Centre and down the stupid streets of stupid Brightmoon. Her route home was interrupted more than once by the void, stealing what would be her regular path home. Catra couldn’t even bring herself to be concerned by the increasing frequency of the void, instead choosing to yell in exacerbation every time one of the stupid things caused her to detour.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to come home to, but it wasn’t a clean apartment, untainted by shattered crockery or an unmade bed. Unblinking, Catra made her way through to her bedroom, checking for solid ground before stepping in to every room. It was already dark, she’d spent far too long staring at the water and the sun was setting by the time she’d left the Athletic Centre, and what with all the detours, her journey had taken Catra well into the early hours of the morning. She decided she was exhausted. Obviously, that kind of this isn’t a decision, but it was one she made anyway.
Tonight, she was determined to sleep.
Despite the past few days, Catra still wasn’t tired, but that wasn’t going to stop her. She would force herself to sleep tonight by sheer force of will. Powered by fury, Catra threw on an old, oversized shirt and threw herself into bed, closing her eyes with a tight determination. If spite were enough, Catra would’ve fallen asleep then and there, and stayed that way until the world went back to normal. If spite were enough, Catra would wake up to her roommates’ usual shouts at the ass crack of dawn. If spite were enough, Catra would be able to cry herself to sleep as she so desperately wanted to. But, obviously, spite wasn’t enough.
It wasn’t through lack of trying. Catra laid with her eyes tightly closed for hours going through every trick she’d ever heard. She counted so many sheep that if her brain were a farm they’d sheer enough wool for the whole east coast. She tried that meditation crap Perfuma was always peddling, though Catra wasn’t sure that would’ve worked even in normal circumstances. Mindfulness was never her strong suit.
Finally admitting defeat, Catra opened her eyes and resigned herself to another night of staring at the alarm clock, watching out for the sharp rise and fall of the otherwise horizontal line. At some point before sunrise, they had increased in frequency from every twenty minutes or so to every ten. Catra was sure this would mean something, but couldn’t work out what, so she kept staring until the sun graced her with its presence.
Getting out of bed was surprisingly difficult. Despite the blanket offering no warmth and the pillow no sleep, Catra couldn’t bring herself to leave the relative safety of her mattress on her third day. Maybe the futility of the whole situation had finally caught up with her, maybe she was just lazy. Whatever the reason, Catra stayed put for most of the day. A fleeting thought that she hadn’t eaten since waking up here crossed her mind, but the lack of rumbling from her stomach told her that she needn’t worry. She considered how long she would have to lay there for this to be over, one way or another. Yesterday she had told herself she didn’t have a death wish, but maybe she did. Maybe she wanted this all to be over, whether that meant her untimely demise or not.
This was the thought that pulled her out of bed late on her third day. She pulled her sweatpants back on and left the apartment, this time not checking for solid ground before walking through a door. She pressed the elevator button and stepped in without a second thought, mildly surprised to find that she was caught by the floor of the elevator car. Vaguely aware of what she was doing, Catra stepped off the elevator, through the lobby and out of her building. Where’s a sucking void when you need one, Catra thought as she walked the empty streets of Brightmoon.
It took a while to find one. Catra laughed at the irony, yesterday she couldn’t turn a corner without almost falling into one, but when she needed one they were nowhere to be seen. She had to walk to the outskirts of the city before she found one, and boy did she find one. While before the void had taken over a street for a block or so, or the footprint of an apartment, this time it was, well, everywhere. It was as if Brightmoon was this tiny speck in an endless void. Catra wasn’t sure if that thought was comforting or terrifying. It didn’t matter though; it would be over soon.
Catra found a bench and sat for a moment, making sure this was actually what she wanted to do. Considering her options, Catra decided this was the best one. She was completely alone and stuck with nothing but her thoughts and this tiny chunk of land. Slowly, Catra rose to her feet, taking one last look at the city she had called home. If she was home, she would’ve shed a tear. Well, if she was home she wouldn’t be in this situation, but she wasn’t home and she was in this situation. Good thing she wouldn’t be for long.
She took a tentative step forward and reached with her left hand into the void she had been desperate to avoid these past few days, letting her fingertips brush against the pink energy before her. It didn’t feel any different. No pain, no sensation, whatever. That’ll do, Catra thought as she pushed her hand further in. She took a breath and made to step forward, but a noise stopped her in her tracks.
“… wake… damage… care…”
It was quiet, but there. Scorpia’s voice. Not from the void, but behind her. Catra ripped her hand out and turned around, half expecting to see her muscular friend standing across the way. Instead, she was met with the familiar sight of the city she’d just said goodbye to. Well shit.
Catra considered for a moment. Before, she believed she was alone. She believed there was no hope. But after hearing her best friends voice, there had to be some hope, even if it was just a little. Not turning back to look at the void she had been so close to throwing herself into, Catra walked back. The voids blocking her path reappeared, but they were easy enough to avoid. Arriving back at her apartment as the sun set, Catra decided to not even try to sleep. What would be the point? She knew for certain that this place wouldn’t give her a moment of piece, and now she’d made the decision to stay she probably didn’t have the right to be mad at that. Instead, Catra went into Scorpia’s room and pulled out one of the many scrapbooks her friend had made over the years.
Catra knew this one well. It was full of pictures of her scowling and plastered with Scorpia’s slightly desperate grin. The first year they lived together. Scorpia and Catra had met in high school but weren’t all that close. Not through lack of trying on Scorpia’s part, mind. The muscular girl was always trying to start up mundane conversations with the other girl but was always met with a sarcastic response or a roll of the eyes. You never did deserve such a good friend, Catra thought, thumbing through the album. She had only agreed to move in with Scorpia and Entrapta when her foster mother kicked her out the day she graduated, and even then Scorpia had to practically drag her to the apartment. Catra had been determined to not ask anyone for help, so was content with sleeping rough until she could work something out for herself. Scorpia wouldn’t allow this, of course, telling Catra she was ‘too stubborn for her own good’.
Catra never did thank her friend for helping her that day. Or apologise for being such an asshole. That would be the first thing she would do if she ever saw her again. Scorpia deserved as much. More even.
The night went so much faster with Catra looking through her friend’s scrapbooks and albums. Catra was careful to avoid the ones she knew she wasn’t in, keen to not invade Scorpia’s privacy. Eventually, her hand fell on the newest photo album. It was only half full, being only half way through the year. Catra couldn’t help but smile at the first picture. It was from New Years, just after midnight. Scorpia and Entrapta had dragged Catra to some party in this penthouse just outside of the financial district. Apparently it belonged to some friend of Perfuma’s. Entrapta disappeared almost the second they walked through the door, something about the garbage disposal, leaving Scorpia and Catra. The latter had told her muscular friend to go find Perfuma, she’d be fine on her own, but Scorpia refused to leave Catra’s side. In the end, Perfuma had found them and the three of them got well and truly trashed before the New Year began. Scorpia and Perfuma kissed at midnight whilst Catra took their picture with one of the disposable camera’s Scorpia always carried around, before turning the camera on herself. The picture in question was Catra with a shit eating grin stood in front of her friends, who had only just come up for air after the New Year’s kiss. Scorpia said it was her favourite picture of all time, and Catra knew exactly why.
It was one of the only times that Catra actually looked happy in one of these stupid pictures. Catra decided that she would make an effort to smile every time Scorpia shoved a disposable camera in her face as soon as she saw her again. Obviously, Catra wasn’t the only reason Scorpia loved that picture. It wasn’t even Entrapta in the background, stood on a table laughing like a crazy person with some scrap metal in hand, with some blonde girl stood below her, ready to catch the mad scientist if she fell. It was the way Scorpia and Perfuma were looking at each other with pure adoration and unconditional love in their eyes. Make more memories like that, Driluth, they really do deserve it.
Catra forced herself to stop smiling at the first picture in the album after a while, flipping over the page to the usual programming of Catra looking miserable in each and every picture. She only looked at these briefly, not wanting to bring herself down again, instead choosing to search diligently for another time Catra had shown her roommates even the remotest bit of love. All she could find were the pictures Catra had taken, not to be kind but to avoid being photographed herself. Catra was about to flip back to the first page when she was met with a picture that caused her to drop the whole album.
Forcing herself to look again, Catra stared down at the unfamiliar photograph. It took a long time for Catra to actually register what she was looking at. Herself, in a hospital bed. Her head was covered in a bandage, and she had a tube in her mouth and wires were connected to machines that weren’t in focus spilled out from the neckline of the gown she was wearing. Shifting her focus from her head, Catra looked over the rest of her body. Her left arm was in a cast and her left leg was surrounded by some kind of… cage? She wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, it looked like it hurt.
From there, Catra’s mind worked overtime, trying to remember what happened before she woke up wherever she was. Purgatory? Limbo? Aren’t those the same thing? All she could muster was the faintest memory of a street. She knew it well; it was part of her walk home from work. Not bothering to put the photo album away, Catra made her way out of the apartment and along the familiar route to her office. Luckily, her journey was unimpeded by any voids, as if this was where she was supposed to be going this whole time.
With her quick pace and lack of obstacles, Catra’s journey took almost no time at all. Staring at the dimly lit street, Catra wracked her brain to try and remember what had happened. She paced for a long time, so long that the sun began to peak out over the horizon before she took pause, looking across the street at something she was certain wasn’t there when she arrived. Or rather, someone.
Catra’s mouth fell open as she stared at the woman. She had blonde hair that was pulled up into a ponytail with a funny little pouf at the front, as well as blue eyes that were wide with confusion as they settled on Catra’s own eyes. Catra recognised this woman, but it took her a minute to remember where. Then it clicked.
“Hey, Adora.”