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Summary
Catra's the best cardiac surgeon in Etheria. There's no surgery too complicated for her until she's facing her unconscious wife on the operating table.
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“The patient is Adora,” Netossa winced as she spoke. Catra paused.
“You’re fucking- no,” Catra stammered in disbelief, opening the door to the operating room. Catra wasn’t squeamish- she was a surgeon, for God’s sake, she’d seen it all. But Catra flinched as she saw her wife on the operating table, gashes scattered across her body, her head bloody and her eyes shut; unconscious and unaware of just how wounded she was.
Adora was a wreck, her head covered in wounds and face pale as a sheet. Adora’s clothes had been cut open to access to her chest, Catra’s favourite dress of Adora’s torn in two to reveal her bruised and bloodied chest. Catra’s gloves had already been put on, she was in the gear, and the shift cuts meant that Catra was the only cardiac surgeon available.
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amnesiac adora / surgeon catra