Momento

Growing up as a soldier, Adora knew pain on a deep and personal level. She was always the Golden child- Shadow Weaver's favorite. But that also meant training extra hours with older soldiers and from this point- getting more injuries. Broken bones, large bruises. Once or twice even concussion bad enough for Shadow Weaver to have to intervene. During her time at the Horde physical weakness was not only discouraged- it was forbidden. So every time she would hurt herself, either during training or when roaming around with Catra, she would just take a deep breath and try to ignore the pain until it was nighttime. And when all of the lights were out, Adora would allow her tears to only be visible for her pillow as she suffered alone in silence, once even biting her hand so hard, it drew blood. By the morning she would be dry enough to not have any evidence of her breakdown. They were days when she considered herself lucky, because her injuries would be bad enough for her teachers to send her to the med bay. And that meant receiving some strong painkillers that would make her feel drowsy, but allow her peaceful sleep. Somewhere back in her mind, Adora remembered staying awake at night, wishing nothing more but the blissful yellow syringe, so she wouldn't have to deal with her throbbing insides. 

And there were no painkillers at Bright Moon for some reason or other. But sleeping alone in a room meant that Adora had enough personal space to cry at night. She no longer had any bad injuries on her body- She-ra always healed her before transforming back to her mortal self. But the phantom pain in the back of her mind was always there- her entire body would ache, her stomach turn around and make her want to return her dinner in a disgraceful manner. Room spinning, palms sweating, breath not coming right, but it was still better than the worse. During the darkest nights, usually after having to fight against Catra, Adora would just curl up in bed and allow the pain to take her away, because she knew it would end by arrival of the mourning. 

When Horde Prime arrived she started ignoring the pain to the point that she was almost convinced that she was feeling no such thing. Bow was the only person, that was able to see right through her faked expressions, but they were way too busy to talk about it.  The only peaceful time she ever had was when she was about to die- it was as if the fail safe that she carried was a painkiller. And then the war ended and they won and there was peace on Etheria. And Adora's condition got worse.

Headaches became her everyday normal. It was almost strange to wake up without the soaring feeling between her eyes, that will eventually travel all around her skull, until her whole world rooted down to the pain in her head. Her vision would change, everything being blurry; her left leg and hand would go stiff, as if she had slept on the wrong side. But her headaches always meant nothing compared to what Catra went through, so she never spoke about it. How could she even, when her girlfriend was the one to wake up in cold sweat after a nightmare. Adora preferred to just squeeze her eyes shut, to detach from her own problems and to just snuggle with Catra, to talk to her in a sweet lullaby tone and allow her comfort. And her friend would eventually fall asleep on her chest, breathing slowly and steady and leaving Adora once again with her pounding skull.

And this is when the yellow syringes reappeared, but this time they were many of them. Opioids, that made everything blank enough to be bearable. Adora found many of them in the Fright Zone, left abandoned behind. At first she was hesitant, it was medicine after all and she should be careful with those stuff. It was after one of her really bad episodes, did she injected herself with one of them. It was breathtaking and relieving and for the first time in many nights she slept so heavily, that she missed the moment Catra woke up from her now usual nightmare. Her girlfriend of course didn't said a thing, thinking that Adora was finally able to relax after winning a freaking war. One dose became two and Adora finally had enough energy to help with everything around without becoming grumpy. Glimmer and Bow, being the people who pressured her to relax after defeating Horde Prime, were the first people to suspect something, but Adora was quickly able to dodge that:

"I just needed a small break. Besides we are no longer fighting, so that's relaxing enough, right?"

Two doses became three. Than four. Then Adora had to hide the painkillers, so nobody would find them when they started working on turning the Fright Zone into a kingdom for Scorpia. She hid them in her room, because she knew that even if Catra slept in the same room with her, she never looked around. Four turned to five. Six. Seven. They always felt good, just because she felt nothing after them. And after suffering with sharp and burning pain, feeling blank felt like the best thing on the whole planet. Adora might be bad at lying, but she was very good at simulating feelings- a smile bright enough was everything she needed to debunk everyone's worries. So she continued, because what else did she had? At that point it was only her and the feeling on heavenly peace. Even laying next to Catra, listening to her girlfriend's purring started fading away into the nothingness. All of her actions became severed by her thoughts- creating peace by medication never seemed like a bad thing. Only once. Only once more. Only... Only...

Eight

One day she looked herself at the mirror and was terrified to find a very different girl looking at her. That one was pale, too pale to be Adora. Her skin hanged like an oversize shirt. When did she lost so much weight? How did she did it? Why...?

Nine

At this point she didn't even remembered what her headaches felt like. There were still some small flukes, but they were so minuscule, that they never bothered her. On the other side it has started becoming harder to hide her punctured hand, that was full of so many new bruises from the needles, that she considered moving to the other one. Her stomach started making more problems, but it wasn't as bad as when she was hurting. No vomit, so she was fine, right?

Ten

She had a bad fight with Catra. She never meant it. At this point most of her action was automatic and the dreamy feeling was her constant. Everything felt like a feverish dream, so when Catra started making some small comments, she took the moment to say what was on the back of her mind. And, oh boy, did she said many stuff. It wasn't only anger- anger, deep pain, sadness - so intertwined that perhaps their names aught to be tweaked to reflect the true origins of those emotions. And she spoke and spoke and said many ugly stuff, never meaning to hurt Catra. But she remind her about the Horde, about Angela, about Scorpia. She never meant it and looking back she didn't even had an idea why they were fighting. And her girlfriend yelled back, something along the line "I knew you all hated me!". But if something, Adora never remembered it- it was a memory so deep in her mind, that she could easily just forget about it and allow her mind to delete it. She never understood how or when that fight ended or what she did for the rest of the day. She only figured out that something was very bad when Catra didn't came to her room when they were about to go to sleep. So that night she slept on her own. Glimmer told her the next morning, that Catra went to Scorpia's kingdom for the night. 

Eleven and a half, because she needed something more after the fight with Catra.

And then Bow started making comments about how she looked like she had risen from the death, so twelve.

Netossa asked her if she was fine, but clearly didn't buy her story and in the end of that night- thirteen. 

Fourteen and she started vomiting all of her eating. But she couldn't stop it. It was nice and she didn't wanted to feeling pain again. If she had to live through another headache, she would rather open her skull with a dagger. 

It was at fifteen when Catra confronted her. And given the fact that they didn't spoke for more than a week, even purposely avoiding meetings, it was more than awkward to now confront each other. This time Catra's voiced didn't rose above the silence. There were no stirring comments, no harsh insults. And Adora herself didn't feel this hot feeling in her gut when she was angry, so she presumed that they weren't fighting this time. To be honest, she never knew- by the point Adora only felt exhaustion. She only heard something along the line "Tell me what is wrong, Adora. Please."

"Nothing. I am fine" she remembered hearing, only to later figure out that it was her who had said it. 

"No, it isn't" the feline told her. "You look like a skeleton. You are pale, your skin is always cold. Think that I won't feel the disgusting smell of vomit from your bathroom?"

"I am fine, Catra! Absolutely fine! LOOK AT ME!"
"I can't Adora. You don't look like yourself. What's going on. Tell me, please."

"And what are going to do?" Adora must have asked at that point.

"I don't know, but if there is something I learned the last few months, it is that you don't have to suffer alone. Please, Adora. Don't do it alone. I am here. We will figure it out. Together."

By that point her hand was burning. By that point she wanted sixteen. She wanted the feeling of nothingness. Of peace. She wanted to forget everyone and everything and hide in her room. But deep inside she knew she wanted something more. She knew because her chest tightened when she felt Catra's arms around her body. Then the breath came, shallow, lungs unable to move much against her suddenly heavy ribs. The static her mind had become suddenly went silent and knowing, they were already sitting on the floor, entangled into each other. At that point she wanted to cry and to feel loved, but her mind was a spotless room and no such feelings appeared.
"Catra?" her small voice echoed around them.
"Yes?"'

"Help me."