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Glimmer squinted at the geometric glyphs on the box, but they refused to make themselves understood. The first part might have resembled the word "dehydrated", but she was pretty sure the next did not read "protein". And it was definitely too short to leave any room for "slaw".
Adora had mentioned "dehydrated fruit" the night before — or rather, she mentioned it before they all went to bed, which is as close as it gets to night out here. She'd also mentioned "dehydrated flavouring", however, when Glimmer asked her to identify their stock of ancient foods. There were several other dehydrated somethings, too, and now Glimmer wished she'd taken notes. Why did she think she would remember any of this?
She could open it. That's one way to make sure. Then again, after a thousand years they all kind of look the same. Or maybe they looked the same to begin with. Glimmer had no way of knowing whether the First Ones just always made their space food into indistinguishable grey mush. Last night, she'd confused a pack of powdered micronutrient concentrate for dehydrated protein slaw. Luckily, Wrong Hordak caught her mistake before she added a dangerous dose of vitamins to the protein-infused pastries.
Less luckily, Wrong Hordak (there had to be something better they could call him, Glimmer mused) was still resting. Violent disconnection from the hivemind takes its toll, after all. Meanwhile, the only person who was literate in Circles and Triangles was asleep, and Glimmer was not about to rouse Adora from her much-needed slumber just to re-identify their inventory. This was her task.
As much as she wanted to complete it, though, no amount of staring would magically bestow her the knowledge of the box's contents. Glimmer groaned and pressed the container against her forehead. She could smell the old cardboard, and to her surprise, it reminded her of a finely aged book.
"Oh!"
Glimmer adjusted her grip on the box and turned it over in her hands a few times, struck by inspiration. Finding the top, she pried it open and took out the foil pouch. It was easy enough to tear it open along the serrated edge, though she made sure to keep the opening as small as possible. With some trepidation, she leaned in and took a sniff.
...
"Ahh..." she moaned, frustrated. The grey powdered contents didn't smell like anything to her. She could only pick up on the scent of the foil wrapper, which had itself picked up a cardboard aroma. The dehydrated mystery would remain a mystery, it seemed.
"Need help, Sparkles?"
"Eep!" Glimmer yelped, launching the pouch into the air and its contents across the floor. She spun around and found Catra at the door.
"Catra!"
Glimmer expected a sarcastic retort, but instead Catra was holding her hands up in apology and scrambling toward her.
"Ah, crap, let me just-" she stammered, grabbing a dustpan and bending over to collect the split powder.
For a moment Glimmer could just look at her, unsure what to say. Catra, passing up an opportunity to tease? This was unprecedented.
"Uh," Glimmer started, a bit lost. "It's okay, Catra." She stooped to help her. "It's no big deal."
But Catra kept on collecting the powder feverishly, as if she hadn't heard her.
"...Catra?" Glimmer tried again. This time, Catra flashed her a glance, and it seemed to Glimmer that the emotion in her eyes was disproportionate to the situation.
"Don't worry about this, Sparkles," Catra said, turning back to the shrinking mess with singular focus. "I got it."
It was all Glimmer could do to scrape a handful of the powder into the dustpan before Catra had cleared everything else. She watched as Catra stood up, wordless, and emptied the wasted food into a bin.
"Uh... good morning," Glimmer ventured, fidgeting now.
The words snapped Catra back to reality as she set the dustpan back in its place and offered Glimmer a hesitant wave.
"Good, er, morning," she answered. The waving hand moved to scratch at her hairline. "I guess?"
"Yeah," Glimmer said, giggling. "It doesn't make much sense out here, but I just got up so I'm counting it."
Catra grinned. "That's fair." She gestured to the piles of illegible boxes around them. "Making breakfast?"
"Yeah..." Glimmer said, offering an embarrassed shrug. "I'm trying to, anyway. But I can't tell what's in the containers."
Catra smirked, crossing her arms. "I noticed you were trying to sniff them, though."
"I was," Glimmer conceded with a chuckle. "I thought I might be able to tell what's inside by scent."
"And?"
"They're all cardboard-scented."
"Hm," Catra hummed, stepping over to the nearest pile. "To you, maybe."
Glimmer's eyes lit up. "Oh my gosh that's right, you have cat senses."
Catra just kept smirking, circling the boxes and picking one out.
"This looks like it's the same as the one you were sniffing," she noted, pointing at it.
Glimmer squinted. She still couldn't read the label to save her life, but she could at least try to match it to others. As far as she could tell, Catra was right.
"I think it might be!"
Catra opened the box, and the wrapper, and took a whiff of the contents.
"Yep," she said, pleased with herself. "It smells like the stuff on the floor. Very..." She searched the air around her for the word. "Meaty?"
It was Glimmer's turn to smirk. "You mean savoury?"
"Whatever," Catra retorted, pressing the package into Glimmer's hands and returning to the pile. "Do you want my help or not?"
Glimmer snorted. This was the Catra she expected: irritable and oblique. Strange as their new circumstances were, she didn't mind. And she certainly could use the help.
"Well, since you're so desperate to lend a hand."
"I'm not desperate!"
Glimmer only laughed, gathering a representative sample of boxes and piling them into Catra's arms. The latter's scornful expression melted quickly, and she set the boxes on the floor, sitting cross-legged and grabbing the closest one.
"You know," Glimmer started, "I think between you and me, we might have a chance at breakfast."
"Hah," Catra scoffed, fiddling with the lid on the first box. "This is about all I can do, so the cooking's on you, Sparkles."
Glimmer inspected the appliances they had at their disposal with a nervous laugh. There was a sink, something resembling a stove, several motor-operated containers that could be mistaken for blenders, and a microwave. She only knew how to identify the latter because she'd actually tested it the night before. As for the rest of them...
"...actually, Horde Scum, I might need your help for that too."
"What?"
Tugging at her collar, Glimmer gave a sheepish smile.
"I kinda... just told Wrong Hordak what the food was supposed to look and taste like. I might have maybe, sort of, possibly not paid attention to how he made it."
Catra looked at her in disbelief.
"W-what?" Glimmer stuttered, defensive. "He had it covered!"
Shaking her head, Catra chortled.
"I guess I can't blame you. I'd probably have done the same."
"See!" Glimmer put her hands on her hips in a victory pose. Her confidence withered, however, as she looked again at the intricate displays attached to every appliance. "Now, think you could help me figure out how this kitchen works?"
"Um, hello?" Catra complained, indicating the box in her hands. "I'm smelling here?"
"Oh, right." Glimmer turned to the stove-like object and rubbed her hands together. "I'll see what I can do while you're busy smelling."
"Can you not say it like that?"
"Like what?" Glimmer asked, stifling a giggle.
"Nevermind," Catra snapped, though she couldn't hide a grin.
Still giggling, Glimmer considered the panel of buttons. They didn't seem to be colour coded, nor were there pictorial depictions. The First Ones, she thought, did not try very hard to make their equipment accessible. Apprehensive, she pressed a button that was isolated in the top-right part of the panel, bigger than the rest.
With a startling beep, a heating element on the top of the stove turned out. Simultaneously, Catra let out a yelp and nearly fumbled the box she was sticking her nose in. Her tail pointed up and hair on end, she hissed at Glimmer.
"Could you warn me next time?"
"Sorry, sorry!" Glimmer said, though she was trying not to laugh at Catra's reaction. "I didn't know that would happen."
Muttering, Catra set the box down and reached for the next. More carefully now, Glimmer inspected the remaining buttons to try and piece together their function. There were two arranged into a pair, and Glimmer suspected she knew their function.
"Let's see..." she mumbled, pressing the upper one. With a much more tolerable beep, the heating element grew brighter. "Yes."
"Nice," Catra said from her spot on the floor, peering into a pouch, and Glimmer felt a burst of pride.
The other button, as she had surmised, reduced the intensity of the heating element. Glimmer briefly reviewed the rest of the panel, but decided it would be best to stop while she was ahead. The three buttons would be plenty for their purposes, and hopefully she wouldn't need to bother with the more intimidating contraptions on the countertop. She searched the surrounding cupboards and, finding a bowl, set it by the stovetop. It wasn't a professional arrangement, but she was happy with it all the same.
She turned around to check on Catra's progress. Most of the boxes, now open, were arranged carefully on one side. Noticing Glimmer's gaze, Catra paused in her attempts to identify the contents of one of the remaining containers. She hesitated and lowered the box, glancing at Glimmer. Her brow furrowed, and Glimmer thought she looked worried.
"Oh, I hope I'm not distracting you!" Glimmer said.
"Oh, no," Catra mumbled timorously, deciding that the box belonged in a gap between two others and getting started on the next one.
Glimmer watched her process with curiosity. Catra's claws made opening each box complicated or messy, depending on how much care she took. The pouches, though, she could slit with a single finger. Thinking about how sharp each claw must be, Glimmer's breath caught in her throat.
Catra didn't notice, reaching for the last unopened box. The cardboard tore roughly and pieces of it fell to the floor like crumbs. One claw made a small, silent incision in the pouch, and Catra brought it up to her twitching nose.
"Hm..."
Whatever she smelt was enough for her to place it far to one side of the pile. Adjusting its position with a finger, she leaned back and took a look at her work.
"That's all of them," she nodded. "Best I could do." Her voice was quieter than before, and her expression mellow. She looked rather morose where she sat.
"Awesome!" Glimmer said, putting on as encouraging a voice as she could
"Yeah..." Catra trailed off, distracted.
Glimmer tilted her head, confused. Her first guess was that Catra wasn't happy with her work. But it seemed something else was wrong. Something was bothering Catra, but Glimmer had no idea what.
"Hey, is everything okay?"
Catra fidgeted with her claws, averting her eyes.
"Actually..." she said to a patch of the floor, "I was kinda wondering if I could talk to you, Sparkles." She managed to meet Glimmer's eyes for a second. "It's... sort of why I came here."
"Oh?"
Catra shifted uneasily where she sat. This, too, was unprecedented. Glimmer wasn't sure what to make of her... passiveness. It was entirely unlike the Catra she'd seen from afar, and fought against up close. If she didn't know any better, she'd think it was vulnerability.
"Well, see... I..." Catra mumbled, scratching at the nape of her neck.
Glimmer's eyes widened. It was vulnerability. Not like she'd seen on Prime's ship. There, they were forced together by the circumstances. Here was Catra, who came to her voluntarily, who could easily leave and sulk in her room. And she wasn't leaving.
Glimmer took a few steps and sat across from her.
"What is it, Catra?"
Catra looked at her and, taking a deep breath, closed her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Sparkles."
Puzzled, Glimmer tried to make out Catra's thoughts. She could only see sadness weighing Catra down. She gave her best giggle and tried to wave Catra's worries away.
"What are you sorry for? You saved me. If anything, I should be thanking you. So, by the way, thank you."
Catra shook her head and drew in her knees, wrapping her arms around them and looking at the ground between.
"That was nothing."
"Are you kidding me? Who knows what Prime would've done if you hadn't gotten me out of there?" Glimmer grimaced as Catra scratched again at her neck. "I guess you know," she said, "which is all the more reason..."
"No. It's nothing."
"Catra," Glimmer sighed, "what are you talking about?"
"That one good thing I did," Catra began shakily, "doesn't make up for everything else. It doesn't even come close. And... I'm sorry, Sparkles." She sniffed. "I'm sorry, Glimmer."
Glimmer chewed on her lip. It was true, technically. No, it was true, unequivocally. She'd been too distracted to think about it on Prime's ship, and still too distracted when she was reunited with her friends. But it was true. She nodded.
"Thanks for saying that, Catra," she murmured.
Catra sniffed again, and Glimmer saw that her eyes had started glistening.
"It's not about saying it, though," Catra said, her voice breaking. "It won't be enough. It'll never be enough. And I know that, and I'm sorry."
"What do you mean?" Glimmer asked, though she was beginning to understand.
Catra glanced at her in between rubbing her eyes. "I hurt a lot of people," she said, "and... I'm gonna do my best to make up for it. I have to. But there are some things I can't make up for."
Glimmer kept her eyes on Catra intently.
Taking another deep breath, Catra steadied herself. "I'm so sorry," she choked, "about your mother."
And Glimmer's face hardened.
She hadn't taken the time to connect all of those dots, though they were there to be connected. There was just so much to do. How could she begin to process? But here they were, the daughter of the mother lost, and the one responsible for the loss. Glimmer didn't have the opportunity to think about it before, but now reality was confronting her, and she started to feel the weight.
Catra observed Glimmer's silence, uncertain. She couldn't glean much from the reaction and deemed it best to just wait. The seconds passed, Glimmer gazing at the wall opposite them, deep in thought. Catra just kept watching, wordless. This time she knew not to say anything.
It was a full minute before Glimmer spoke again. Now her voice was quiet, shaky from contained emotion and soft with melancholy.
"I'm gonna be honest with you, Catra. I don't know what to say."
Catra relaxed, just a little. That wasn't as bad as she'd feared; it wasn't good either, but she knew it wouldn't be easy.
"That's okay," she replied. And it was. It was as okay as it could be. She expected nothing from Glimmer, after all. How could she?
"I don't know if it'll help," she continued, "and maybe there's nothing I can do that would help. But I've spent the last few days thinking about this, and I wanna do whatever you need me to do." She hazarded a chuckle. "Even if you just need me to shut up. That's why I came here."
Glimmer didn't return the laughter, but she nodded. Her answer came slow.
"I won't pretend you can make it right, Catra," she said. "But in a twisted way, you're probably one of the people who can help the most."
Catra's ears perked up, and Glimmer couldn't help but smile.
"There's a lot I don't understand about what happened," she explained. "That's mostly because there's a lot I don't understand about you, and I don't know what was going on in your head back then. I still don't know, really, but I know enough to trust you.
"That's what makes this so weird, isn't it?" Her smile turned bitter, and she could feel tears pooling in her eyes. "You're why I lost my mom. You didn't literally make it happen, but you might as well have."
Catra winced when she said it, but she made no protest. Glimmer was right, and it was Catra who admitted as much when she broached the subject. But hearing it from the one she hurt felt different. It hurt different. She knew she had to swallow the pain, and that knowledge made no difference to the lump she felt in her throat now.
"That was you," Glimmer whispered, "and this is you, too." She laughed, rubbing a sleeve against her nose. "How does that make any sense?"
Catra opened and closed her mouth. She thought she should say something, but she could think of nothing to say. To her relief, Glimmer kept going.
"I need to understand you," she said, looking at Catra. Her chestnut eyes bore into Catra with determination, and Catra struggled to return the gaze. "That's the only chance I have of understanding what happened, and why."
"Okay."
Glimmer pushed herself across the smooth floor, inching closer. From just a foot away her eyes had even more intensity, and Catra found herself focusing on Glimmer's nose to avoid her stare. If she was afraid of how Glimmer would direct the conversation before, she was terrified now, and she held her breath.
"Now," Glimmer whispered, "are you gonna help me make breakfast or not?"
The gears in Catra's head, frozen as they were, took a moment to spin up and parse the sentence.
"W-what?"
"I said," Glimmer continued, leaning back with a bright grin, "are we doing breakfast or not?"
"Uh, sure," Catra answered, still confused. If this is what Glimmer needed from her, fair enough. But it was very weird, and she felt a giggle building in her throat as a response to how odd the whole situation felt. She couldn't help but let it out, and she was even more surprised to find Glimmer laughing alongside her.
"This is so weird," Catra croaked through her growing laughter.
"It is!" Glimmer agreed, waving her arms around. "It's the weirdest thing!"
And so they spent a while stuck in confused, tired, incomprehensible laughter. Catra felt a deep relief in it, a strange catharsis. There was still so much to do, so much she owed Glimmer. Maybe she would never stop owing her. But at least she knew now that she could give what she owed. The weight would be shared and lifted over however many days, weeks, months, or even years it took, and that knowledge alone eased the burden.
The laughter dying down, Catra wiped a tear from her eye and gestured to the boxes around her.
"So, you wanna know what my nose told me about all this junk?"
"Definitely."
Catra started from the left, pointing out the isolated packages and larger groups.
"There's the meaty one — savoury to you, Sparkles — and one that smells a bit bready. A whole bunch of them didn't smell like anything, even to me. Should probably avoid those. One smelt bitter, and one of them was kinda smoky. And the last bunch each had a different spicy smell."
Glimmer nodded as Catra listed the items off, stroking her chin with exaggerated thoughtfulness. They could make this work, she thought. But best to keep it simple.
"Well," she said, "we'll definitely need the protein slaw, and the breadstuff."
She stood and grabbed the "meaty" and "bready" boxes, setting them on the countertop.
"Okay, your turn," she said, grinning at Catra.
"Uh... what?"
"Pick two or three of the spices."
Catra looked between Glimmer and the spice boxes, flummoxed.
"No... no, no," she said, shaking her head. "Trust me. You do not want me making these decisions."
"Or," Glimmer hummed, "you can trust me when I say that I do."
Catra considered her, lips pressed with indecision. She did make an authoritative figure, standing there with her hands on her hips. The ridiculousness of the situation made it difficult to take her too seriously, though. Her expression softening, Catra grabbed a pair of boxes and stood up.
"Well, I did think these two were kinda nice."
"Ooh, perfect!"
Catra watched Glimmer sniff each of her two offerings in turn, humming with satisfaction each time.
"Even I can smell these!"
That left Catra looking rather pleased with herself, and Glimmer set about pouring their ingredients into the bowl she had prepared.
"Are you, uh, using measurements?"
"Does it look like I am?" Glimmer answered, squinting at the growing pile of powders. "I'm eyeballing. It's the Bright Moon way."
"I thought you didn't know anything about cooking, let alone the 'Bright Moon way'."
"Shut up."
They giggled and, satisfied with her progress, Glimmer handed the bowl to Catra. She found a wooden spoon in one of the drawers, too, and passed it her way, setting aside a spatula for herself.
"Put some water in that and stir it."
"Uh..." Catra said, looking at the bowl in her hands. "How much water?"
"You know, just, some water. Guesstimate. Make it like a batter."
Catra rolled her eyes and portioned what she judged to be a safe amount of water from the sink. She started stirring, finding it more intensive than she'd expected. Meanwhile, Glimmer was scouring the cupboards for something.
"When you pulled the lever," Glimmer said, her head obscured by a cupboard door, "did you know what would happen? How bad it would be?"
Catra froze, looking her way, but Glimmer continued searching between the pots and pans nonchalantly. Catra understood. This was how they would talk about it, because it was too much to sit and think about nothing else. They were to be friends, and she would do what she could for Glimmer while they were being friends. It was up to Glimmer how and when each of this conversations began, and it would be up to her if and how they end.
Catra resumed stirring. "I did..." she said, "and I didn't."
"What does that mean?"
"Everyone warned me. Entrapta told me it would be bad. Adora tried to stop me — you know, you were there...
"But I wasn't thinking about that."
Glimmer retrieved a wide pan from deep in one of the cupboards and dusted it off.
"What were you thinking about?" she asked, setting the pan on the stovetop.
Catra sighed as Glimmer took the bowl from her. The ingredients were thoroughly mixed into a batter, and Glimmer seemed satisfied with the consistency. She turned on the heating element, holding a hand over the pan to gauge its temperature.
"I was just... so angry. At everything, and everyone." Her ears drooped. "When Adora left, I couldn't tell you how betrayed I felt. And everything she did after only made the feeling worse. Shadow Weaver had me under her thumb at first, then Hordak..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Not that it... justifies anything. I was angry, and I wanted to take it out on Adora. Nothing else mattered to me then."
Glimmer nodded, pouring a dollop of the batter onto the pan and watching it sizzle.
"You didn't know you were destroying lives?"
Catra grimaced. "No, I knew," she said. "With what Adora said, I knew it would be that bad. I just... didn't care." She cradled herself with one arm. "The consequences felt so far away that they didn't matter in the moment. All I wanted to do was make Adora hurt."
Glimmer looked at her, impassive. Catra seemed so miserable that she almost wanted to tell her it was okay. But she also knew to resist the impulse. This wasn't about Catra, and it would be a disservice to herself to make it so. Still, she had to say something.
"You know what terrifies me?" she said, mustering a smile.
Catra looked at her, waiting for the answer.
"If we somehow traded our lives... I don't know whether I'd have done anything different."
Catra opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Glimmer watched as tears pooled in her eyes and escaped from the corners.
"You don't have to say that," Catra mumbled, her breath ragged.
"I'm not saying it just for your sake," Glimmer shrugged. She flipped the half-cooked batter, which was starting to resemble a pancake. "I think it's true, and that makes it easier for me to understand. You weren't some incomprehensible evil back then. If you were, you wouldn't be here now. There was a reason you did what you did, and even if it wasn't a good one, understanding it helps me."
"Okay," Catra said, sniffly.
Now Glimmer reached out and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. Catra shrank beneath her touch, but returned her smile.
"Actually," Glimmer said, "could you find us two plates? There should be some somewhere."
Nodding, Catra moved to Glimmer's other side and started opening cupboards. She lucked out on the third, retrieving two wide plates and setting them next to the stovetop.
"Thanks, Catra."
"Don't mention it."
Glimmer took the first pancake, now thoroughly cooked, and put it on one plate. Catra scooped another blob of batter onto the pan, and it sizzled aggressively. They watched the batter spread, bubbles bursting through.
"You know," Glimmer mused, "when we were first stranded on Prime's ship, I really did believe you were the last person I wanted to be stuck with."
"Can't blame you."
"But now that I think about it... you were probably the person I needed to be stuck with."
"Wait," Catra said, ears perked. "Really?"
"Yeah. It would've been easy to feel sorry for myself if I was stuck with, say, Adora. But you, Catra... you were the one person who had pushed everyone away even more than me. The one person who was lonelier. So I ended up feeling sorry for you."
"Hey!" Catra protested, throwing a playful punch into Glimmer's shoulder.
Glimmer just laughed. "I'm serious! It gave me context. And seeing you change, just flip completely..." She looked at Catra and waved the spatula gravely. "If you could redeem yourself, then there was no question that I could, too."
"I didn't realize that was something you ever doubted," Catra said, eyes now fixed on Glimmer.
"Oh, yeah." Glimmer set the second pancake on the other plate, and motioned for more batter; Catra obliged. "Are you kidding? I said the worst things to Adora and Bow, I abandoned them for my own stubborn, terrible idea, and I nearly destroyed Etheria." She swirled the pan, encouraging the batter to spread. "I had a lot to apologize for after you sent me back to them."
"I never thought about it like that..."
"Well, for a while I was actually afraid I'd lost Bow. That we could never go back to anything close to what we were. But I thought about how you turned around, and how we were ready to put everything on the line to get you out of there..."
Flipping the pancake, she found Catra's eyes and smiled tenderly.
"We have more in common that you might have known, Catra. And I'm not about to heal overnight, but that doesn't count for nothing."
Catra just stared back, too surprised to say anything.
"What's the matter?" Glimmer teased. "Cat got your tongue?"
That was enough to make Catra groan.
"That doesn't even make sense."
Glimmer just hummed, scooping the third pancake onto a plate. Catra emptied what was left of the batter and looked into the bowl.
"Huh. That was just the right amount."
"What did I tell you?" Glimmer said with a wink. "Eyeballing it the Bright Moon way."
"Sure, Sparkles, sure."
Glimmer took aim at Catra with the spatula, raising her eyebrows threateningly.
"Are you questioning my culinary expertise, Horde Scum?"
"Hey, now," Catra drawled, pushing the spatula aside with an extended claw, "I didn't say that."
But Glimmer, incorrigible, pointed the spatula right underneath Catra's nose.
"You'd better not. I'm not to be underestimated."
"Oh, I would never," Catra scoffed in mock offense.
"Good," Glimmer huffed. "I bet they don't even teach you how to scramble an egg in the Horde."
"What's an egg?"
"'What's an egg!?'"
"Now I'm just messing with you," Catra said, snorting at Glimmer's outraged expression.
Glimmer relaxed and, laughing, lowered the spatula.
"Uh, Sparkles?"
"What?"
"Not to question your culinary expertise, but..." Catra pointed at the pan. Following her finger, Glimmer realized that the pancake was overdue for a flip and had begun to smoke.
"Oh!" she said, rushing to flip it and folding a corner in on itself in the process.
"You're hopeless," Catra commented, chortling.
"Shut up."
They laughed some more and, in a moment, the final pancake was done. Glimmer set it on a plate, and the two of them took a second to admire the fruits of their labour. Catra leaned in and, taking in the aroma of the fresh hydrated and cooked food, hummed approvingly.
"It smells a bit weird," she said, "not gonna lie. But it's good."
"Yeah?" Glimmer asked, her eyes bright.
"Well... good enough. Let's go with that."
"'Good enough' is good enough for me."
Catra grabbed one of the plates and flash Glimmer a mischievous grin.
"We should eat these before the others get up. I'm not in a sharing mood."
"You read my mind."