Chapter Text
Catra had long been acquainted with the long shifts at the hospital. There was a sharpness to her mind that made her the best cardiologist and cardiac surgeon in Etheria but an innate sense of tiredness she couldn’t shirk off. Yet today was different. Catra was feeling revitalised. After taking the day off yesterday to celebrate her third wedding anniversary with her wife, she felt better than ever. Adora was her soulmate, and despite both of them working long hours, they always managed to make time for each other, finding ways to surprise one another. It was their small picnic in a neighbouring park that made Catra’s day, the time they spent talking to each other in the sun with blissful ignorance to the time. As they walked home with the sun setting behind them, Catra couldn’t help but feel eternally grateful the world blessed her with someone so marvelous as Adora Greyskull.
Her night shift today was fairly spacious. She had finished her evening surgery and was checking on one final recovering patient before getting to go home. Catra was pouring herself a coffee in between patients when her pager started frantically beeping. Urgent, pericardial tamponade. OR Cardio 1. Scorpia- Trauma Surgeon 3329. Catra instantly dropped what she was doing, nerves setting alight but not distracting her as she rushed to the ER. Her co-worker Netossa caught her on the way, “Catra,” Netossa seemed unlike her usually calm self, a bundle of anxiety, “there’s- god- slow down-”
“I’ve gotten paged for an ER surgery. Now is not the time,” Catra cut Netossa off as they ran down to the operating rooms.
“I know, I was just there, but, Catra-”
“What?!” Catra snapped. She shoved her way into the prep room, where people immediately began situating her into a surgical gown and gloves.
“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.
“Catra,” Netossa entreated, breaking Catra out of her spiral, “you're not operating on her. I’ll call in Entrapta,”
“We don’t have the time,” Catra hissed, “Entrapta could be an hour longer in her surgery. Ador- the patient is in critical condition,” Catra pointed out. Netossa knew Catra was right.They had no time to wait, with Adora in critical condition.
“This is against protocol,” Netossa tried.
“She’ll die if I don’t!” Catra yelled, snapping under the pressure. She took a deep breath, quickly analysing the situation, “they’ve definitely tried to drain the tamponade already, so the procedure is a pericardial window. I can do it in my sleep,” Catra asserted. Netossa acquiesced.
“Okay. Override protocol. What can I do to help?” Netossa asked.
“Just don’t leave,” Catra said nervously. Netossa nodded. She got dressed into sterile surgical scrubs whilst Catra got spoken to by the trauma surgeon.
“Dr Weaver, the patient’s been in a car crash,” Scorpia informed, unknowing that the patient was Catra’s wife, “we attempted to drain the pericardial sac with a needle but it wasn't enough,”
“Left anterolateral thoracotomy,” Catra muttered to herself as she looked at Adora’s body, “where's the marker,” Someone passed Catra a surgical skin marker and she quickly began drawing the incision site as she prepared to cut open her own wife.
– — –
The surgery took 53 minutes. Promptly after, Catra sped to the closest staff bathroom and puked. Netossa unlocked the door with her override keycard and rubbed her back whilst Catra finally sobbed, letting her emotions overtake her. “It’s over now, hun,” Netossa assured, trying to comfort Catra, “she’s safe, because of you,” Catra stumbled back, falling into Netossa, “you’re gonna be okay,” Netossa whispered, holding Catra tightly, “c’mon, let’s go,” Netossa put Catra’s arm over her shoulder as she lugged them both to the break room. Catra collapsed onto the couch, her body shaking from her sobs. Catra didn’t care that people were staring at her, or that she’d never cried at work. No one but Netossa even knew she was married, “everyone out! You can go to another break room,” Netossa instructed as she knelt to Catra’s height. She brushed Catra's hair back and pulled Catra into a hug. They sat there, static whilst people filtered out the room. Catra wasn’t sure how long it’d been before she tried to stand again. “Catra,” Netossa said.
“She’s- fuck-” Catra almost fell into the couch with how dizzy her head felt. It was hard to believe that moments ago Catra was steady enough to perform a surgery. Now she was so overridden with deep fear she could barely orient herself.
“Just sit for a moment,” Netossa requested.
“No,” Catra sobbed, “I need to see Adora,”
“Catra,” Netossa repeated, firmer this time.
“Have you seen the inside of your wife’s chest?! Have you had to operate on her to save her life?!” Catra yelled, “no, right? So don’t tell me what to do!” Catra stormed out. Despite Catra just yelling at her, Netossa followed, “fuck off,” Catra cried, wiping her red eyes, “what are you doing?”
“Coming with you, let’s go,” Netossa assured quietly. Catra let Netossa do all the asking around, standing by her side passively if not for the tears streaming down her face.
When Catra finally found Adora’s room, she collapsed by her side, holding her unconscious wife close. Catra felt hollow as she hugged her, fear thrumming through her ears at the thought that Adora could’ve died. Netossa read over the EMT report before quickly snatching it away, “What’s on the report?” Catra asked, her voice hoarse and raw from the crying and yelling. The adrenaline of the surgery had melted away, leaving an ice-cold fear in the pit of her stomach.
“I’ll tell you later, just focus on Adora,” Netossa said calmly, rubbing Catra’s back as she hunched over her wife’s body. Her ears automatically picked up on the heartbeat thumping in her chest, something she counted unconsciously.
“Her heartbeat is good,” Catra muttered when she realised what she was doing, “but what if she’s not okay? What if I missed something?”
“She’s stable, Catra,” Netossa affirmed, her voice firm and assertive, “you’ve done everything you can. I’m gonna step out to quickly reassign my surgeries and call Spinny, okay?” Netossa asked. Catra nodded, too numb to protest. When Netossa left the room, Catra detached herself from Adora, walking up to the EMT report on the counter where Netossa had left it. As she read the page, her heart began to sink.
Adora crashed right next to the hospital, some random person speeding past a red light. There was only one reason why Adora was near the hospital so close to Catra’s finishing time. Catra had to take her car in to get serviced and was going to walk to the mechanic after her shift, something she’d very audibly complained about. Adora was just trying to pick Catra up.
The tears had never stopped, though the ache in Catra’s heart grew tenfold if even possible. Her hands balled into fists as she leaned against the counter, her quiet sniffles filling the room. When Adora’s heartbeat picked up, Catra’s ears perked up, and she turned to see Adora’s face scrunched up. Her wife let out an unceremonious groan and Catra’s eyes shot wide. She hesitated to get closer, watching as Adora slowly came to. Adora's eyes blinked open, taking in her surroundings. Catra was frozen, a deer in headlights, as Adora made eye contact with her. Adora’s eyes roamed over Catra, her gaze warm and longing, “sorry,” Adora mumbled, her speech slightly garbled. Catra swallowed hard, her eyes wide. But before she could respond, Adora’s face relaxed and her eyes fluttered shut. Catra let out a disappointed exhale, her tears tapered off but sitting on the brink of her waterline, ready to spill over at any moment. When Netossa walked back in, she pulled Catra into another hug and they sat on a sofa chair next to Adora’s bed, squeezing tightly in the small space. Catra studied Adora’s unconscious face, looking for any signs of movement.
“She woke up and looked at me,” Catra whispered, “she said sorry,”
“That’s good,” Netossa said, squeezing Catra’s hand.
“My wife apologised for getting in a car crash she didn’t even cause,” Catra pointed out, somewhat harshly.
“But she still has fine motor control and she can speak,” Netossa described, reminding Catra of what she knew. Catra leaned forward and brushed the hair out of Adora’s face, listening to her wife let out a relieved sigh. Catra was just grateful Adora was responding to her touch, and that she could comfort her.
It took several more hours, with Netossa leaving and returning to the room between checking on her own and Catra’s patients. Adora’s unconsciousness had been waning. Whilst Netossa napped on the bigger couch they brought in- exhausted after already working 9 hours- Catra’s eyes stayed fixated on Adora. She watched for all the tiny movements, every twitch that indicated Adora was slowly waking up. When Adora’s eyes fluttered open once again, Catra quickly jumped to her feet. Netossa woke up from the jolt. Adora mumbled unintelligible words, her eyes unfocused. Catra sat on the edge of the bed and held Adora’s hand as Adora slowly awoke. It took thirty minutes before Adora even spoke.
“Where am I?” Adora asked, her voice drowsy from the pain medication. Catra’s face contorted instantly.
“You were in a car crash, baby,” Catra explained. Adora flinched at the pet name, as though she wasn’t expecting it, “I had to operate on you.” Adora looked Catra up and down, noticing the scrubs and the ID badge.
“Isn’t that your job?” Adora asked. Catra was convinced her heart stopped beating. Myocardial infarction, heart attack.
“What?” Catra pulled back, her eyes wide with confusion. Adora looked panicked, but Catra was in such a state of shock she could barely help soothe her. Netossa quickly stepped in, noticing the first signs of something Catra didn’t want to think about.
“Hi there, I’m Netossa. I have a few questions to ask you if that’s okay?” Netossa started. Adora was clearly hazy and confused,
“Alright,” Adora acquiesced.
“Can you tell me your name?”
“Adora,” she mumbled back, “I don’t know what’s happening.”
“Do you recognise where we are?” Netossa asked. Catra knew Adora should know. She's been here enough times for Catra. Catra never thought Adora would be here for herself though.
“I don't know. The lights are so bright. The hospital?” Adora fretted, rubbing her eyes. Her eyebrows were pinched together.
Catra listened as Adora’s breathing picked up, “slow down,” Catra said to Netossa, trying to shut off her feelings so she could help like a good wife should, “she’s getting stressed.” Netossa gave Catra a quick, grateful nod.
“It’s okay to be unsure, honey. We’re here to help you, okay?” Netossa assured. Sluggishly, Adora nodded, reminding Catra that there were drugs in her system which was probably why she was acting this way, “do you know the date?”
“No, everything’s fuzzy,” Adora responded, her eyes glassy.
“That’s completely normal. You were in a car accident,” Netossa informed gently, “do you recognise this woman or myself,” Netossa gestured to Catra and then at herself. Adora frowned as she glanced at them both.
“Should I?” Adora responded.
“Do you recognise me or not?” Catra insisted. When Adora shook her head no, Catra choked on a sob. Netossa got up and walked straight to the wall-phone.
“Radiology, this is Dr Netossa in. I need a CT scan stat for a 32 year old female with amnesia, suspected TBI. I want to rule out any complications,” Netossa instructed swiftly, “Have the nurse bring her from Recovery 501, thank you,”
“It’s just the pain medication," Catra faltered, clearly doubting herself, “it’s making her hazy.”
“We can’t take the risk,” Netossa asserted, “she’s showing signs of amnesia, Catra. She could have a brain bleed,” the reality was too much for Catra to bear, so she stepped out of the room. She watched as one of the nurses in charge of the Recovery rooms went in with a gurney. They rolled Adora out and Catra made fleeting eye contact with the woman she loved, only to be met with a confused gaze. Netossa met Catra outside of the room.
“She looked at me like I was a stranger,” Catra croaked, her eyes unfocused as they pointed toward the ground. Netossa held Catra’s hand.
“I know honey. But you’ll get through this,” Netossa had been a mother to Catra ever since she adopted her at 16. Catra was harsh and mean, having spent her formative years in abusive and neglective households, but Netossa and her wife Spinnerella were patient. Netossa was the reason Catra became a doctor in the first place, “I think the best thing to do is come home to mine after we get the results,” Netossa said, “I’m getting Lonnie to read them as soon as they're done, so we’ll know for sure.”
“I can’t leave her here,” Catra sniffled, “I just can’t.”
“Just for the night,” Netossa said, “you already worked a 10 hour shift before all of this shit. You need to get out of here.’
“I don’t think she’d even want me to stay,” Catra admitted quietly, the tears surfacing to her waterline again. Netossa nodded solemnly, holding Catra’s hand tightly.
“I know. But we don’t know much right now. Don’t give up,” Netossa assured. It was the closest thing she could say to 'everything will be okay’, because they were both doctors. Saying that wasn't true.
“I know,” Catra muttered, blinking the tears down her face.
“Let's go to a break room,” Netossa decided. Catra let herself be guided, feeling like she didn’t know how to get there even though she’d been here countless times. They sat in the break room, Netossa hugging Catra tightly whilst Catra tried to process the last few hours.
“How long has it been since the surgery,” Catra asked dryly, her throat aching. Netossa looked down at her watch.
“About five hours. We were waiting by her bedside for a while,” Netossa said. Catra nodded numbly, returning her head to her mother’s chest.
“Thank you, 'Tossa,” Catra said quietly.
“Of course,” Netossa responded. Her phone pinged, but she didn’t check it. She knew it was Lonnie telling her she received the scan.
After half an hour, Lonnie called.
“Hey Nettie,” Lonnie said as she picked up the phone, “results are all clear, I’m sending the official report through now. It looks like retrograde amnesia from a TBI. I can confirm there's no structural damage,” Catra’s ears perked up and she let out a sigh of relief, “last I heard they were moving her to the ICU to monitor her heart.”
“Thanks Lonnie, see you later,” Netossa said, hanging up the phone. They both got up, “let's call HR, organise some time off then head home.”
“I can’t take time off,” Catra muttered, “I can’t lose this too,” Catra seemed desperate, like she was holding onto the last threads of her life before everything fell apart. Netossa sighed.
“Catra, listen to me right now. You haven't lost her. Stop with that bullshit,” Netossa asserted.
“But she doesn’t know who I am,” Catra was in despair, like her body had been torn into two.
“It’s a case of post traumatic amnesia. She’ll slowly recover within the next few weeks.” Netossa pointed out.
“You don't know that,” Catra argued.
“I know, but it's most likely. You can't give up like this. Your wife needs you, even if she doesn't know it,” Netossa said.
“Okay,” Catra muttered, defeated and too tired to argue. Netossa called quickly and arranged for a meeting tomorrow. In the meantime, they both had two days off. As they went into Netossa’s car, Catra’s palms got sweaty. They drove past the exact place Adora crashed, the road partially closed. Netossa reached over the console to hold Catra’s hand, squeezing it tightly. It was pitch black at night, the time just past 3 am when they arrived home. Spinnerella was waiting for them.
“Oh Catra,” Spinnerella sighed as Catra engulfed her in a hug.
“I don't know what to do,” Catra sobbed, “she doesn’t even remember me,”
“She will. Give her time,” Spinnerella assured as she rubbed Catra’s back, “There are some pyjamas and a towel on your bed, but I’ve run you a bath. It has bubbles, lavender salts and everything nice.” Spinnerella knew how sleepless Catra got in times of intense stress. She couldn’t imagine how poorly her daughter would sleep now.
“Thank you,” Catra muttered gratefully. She walked through the hallways and found herself looking at the picture frames on the wall. When she was greeted by Adora’s happy face on their wedding day, her whole body ached. She held the picture frame, taking it off the wall and hugging it to her chest.
“Sweetie,” Spinnerella comforted, rubbing her shoulder. Catra sniffled.
“I’m gonna go to the bath now,” She said, to avoid confronting the pain. Catra made a pit stop in her childhood bedroom to grab the pyjamas and towel. She left the photo frame on her bed.
When Catra undressed in the bathroom, her eyes drew toward the hickeys on her chest, love bites showing Adora knew exactly where to kiss to draw a breathy sigh out of Catra. Catra could barely fathom how someone who knew her so intimately could now be so emotionally far. It was only yesterday- or two days ago, now that the clock had ticked over- that Adora and Catra were celebrating their wedding anniversary. The happiness already felt like a distant memory, something Catra chased to feel again in the face of all the dread and grief she was hit with.
The warm water soothed her aching muscles as she stepped into the bath. All alone, Catra felt hollow. She opened her phone, texting their friends about Adora. Sent in the dead of night, no one responded. She sank into the bath, sighing. Catra wasn’t sure how long she soaked there before getting up, drying off and dressing. She got into bed and hugged the photo of her and Adora, slipping into feverish dreams. When she woke up throughout the night, she was desperate to think it was all a horrible nightmare. But all she had was reality, that Adora was injured and couldn't remember her.