Catra yawned as she kneeled on the floor of Darla’s laundry room, methodically and mechanically picking out damp clothes from the device Entrapta had ensured them all was a washing machine. The cold and the wet, normally enough to have her squirming in displeasure, was just about bearable as she dropped each item quickly into a basket: shirts, leotards, trousers… She stopped to smile as she pulled out a familiar red jacket, though—it had taken far too much convincing to get that in the wash.

The sound of footsteps behind her interrupted her thoughts, and she stuffed the jacket into the basket quickly. Not that there were that many people on board with them for this journey, and fewer still that she would be embarrassed in front of, but…

“Ah, Catra,” Hordak’s deep voice was tense with discomfort, and Catra turned to glance up at him, suddenly stiff. His lips were stretched into a thin line as he looked down at her for a moment in thought. “Are you almost done here?”

“Uh, yeah,” Catra mumbled. “Just gotta stick this lot on to dry.”

Hordak nodded sharply at that, and Catra grabbed the last clothes from the washer in a single handful—care be damned—and shoved them into the basket, stepping aside. Hordak stepped forward, and all of a sudden Catra found herself uncomfortably aware of how small Darla’s laundry room was. She swallowed, and turned to face the dryer.

It was an unfortunate chain of facts, but an undeniable one: if they wanted to travel space to bring magic back to the universe, especially in Darla, they were going to have to bring Entrapta along, and if they were going anywhere with Entrapta for any length of time, Hordak would tag along, too. None of them liked it—well, none of them except Entrapta—and the uncomfortable truce led everyone to keep mostly to themselves in the long stretches of time between planets.

(Catra didn’t mind that so much—more time alone with Adora, away from the prying eyes and teasing whistles of Bow and Glimmer, was certainly a good thing for her. But she missed the camaraderie of their first spaceflight, the warm and happy glow of eating with everyone, relaxing and teasing each other…)

She’d been avoiding Hordak more than the others had. To them, he was an enemy-turned-acquaintance, not someone they knew all that well in either role, and there was an awkwardness where neither side quite knew what to say. But Catra had known him—perhaps not as well as Entrapta, but certainly better than anyone else from the Horde. They had worked together too closely—and had each been too big a threat to the other’s power—for them not to know each other well, and to know to be afraid of each other.

And unlike the others, she had something to apologise for, which sat uncomfortably on her shoulders, a heavy weight she had been trying hard to ignore.

“Entrapta says we’re just a day from Cirian,” Hordak said, not catching her eye. “Another planet that was once a battlefield between Prime and the First Ones. She expects the magic there to be volatile.”

“Ah,” Catra didn’t quite know what to say. “Well, it’ll be good to get off Darla for a bit. Stretch our legs.”

“Quite.”

An uncomfortable quiet, permeated by the ever-present hum of Darla’s machinery, fell over them. For a moment, Catra was struck by how long it had been since she and Hordak have been alone together—their fight in the forge must have been almost a year ago, now.

She swallowed. “I, uh… I’m sorry.” Hordak looked up at her, then, his red eyes unreadable. She squirmed under his gaze. “You know, for lying about Entrapta betraying you. And sending her away in the first place. I… that was low, even for us.”

Hordak nodded. “We were never exactly the best people, were we?”

Catra snorted before she could stop herself. She wasn’t quite sure, but she could have sworn the corner of Hordak’s mouth twitched upward, ever so slightly. “That’s certainly one way of putting it,” she said dryly, before pausing, weighing her words. “Though, uh, don’t tell Adora I said it, but… we did make one hell of a team.”

Hordak smiled at that, a toothy grin that showed off blood-red fangs. “We did, didn’t we? Though I suppose we were somewhat hampered by the mutual distrust, and seeing each other only as a means to our own planned ends.” He sighed, leaning back against the washer, his long legs crossed beneath him. “Maybe, with time, we can do better, and actually achieve some good out of all of this.”

Catra frowned. “You, uh, you’re okay?” she asked, falteringly. “With me being around, and working together and stuff?”

Hordak sighed, resting his head on his spindly fingers. “I… will struggle. I do not want to forgive you, Catra. But Entrapta has, and I am trying to do better by her, so…” He paused, taking a deep breath, before turning to Catra. “I hope to be, one day.”

“They do make us better, don’t they?” Catra smiled, closing the dryer hatch and flicking it on with a gentle prod. “I’m glad you and Entrapta found each other again. You both deserve that.”

“Thank you, Catra,” Hordak said. “The same can be said for you and Adora.”

Catra turned away slightly, hiding the faint warmth on her cheeks. “Speaking of, I should, uh, get back to her. She’s gonna fall asleep on another starmap if I leave her alone for too long.” She took a few tentative steps towards the door, before stopping, her hand hovering limply above the door’s control panel. “But thanks, Hordak.”

The door slid open with a quiet hiss, and Catra walked down the corridor, an awkward urgency to her steps. She only glanced back once, as she reached the corner and turned towards her cabin. For the first time since she had boarded the ship with him, the sight of Hordak standing there, turning dials and pressing buttons, didn’t fill her with a sense of dread, or unease. He wasn’t the tyrant she’d once served and used, nor the angry, desperate warrior she had fought in the forge; he was just Hordak.