Chapter Text
“I don’t suppose that it’s any use telling you that I think this is a bad idea.” Grime says, watching Sasha moving around the room throwing on her armor.
“This is my last chance.” Sasha says, turning to Grime with a determined look on her face. “You heard what Gravel said. Marcy’s back from… wherever she went, and the plague’s just…” she waves her hands around in the air, “gone. Like it was never here, except for all the corpses.”
Which was more or less what Gravel had said. While Sasha was sleeping off her latest round of injuries, there had been a giant flash of green light in the distance, followed by a rush of wind so strong that the quarantine fires had gone out. Marcy had reappeared shortly after Sasha had woken up, apparently, carried by General Yunan (boy, had that earned a groan from both Sasha and Grime) and declared the plague solved. The Newtopian Army, which had appeared out of nowhere and surrounded the city for reasons nobody was clear on (although from the look on Grime’s face, he had some ideas), immediately began making preparations to leave. The general consensus is that the whole group will be gone in the morning, leaving the town in peace (or abandoning them to the task of cleaning up on their own, depending on who you asked). Sasha had, of course, declared her intention to sneak into the Night Guard camp and make contact with Marcy almost immediately.
“If you’re worried about missing your chance,” Grime says, “we could always just shadow their progress as they march. Pick your time a little more… cautiously, perhaps?”
“What, and get even closer to the capital?” Sasha shakes her head. “I’ve put you in enough danger recently, don’t you think?”
Which sure, Grime doesn’t have a good comeback to that apart from, “Yes, well that’s not an excuse to put yourself into danger, Sasha. We have talked about this.”
Sasha’s shoulders slump. “I know, Grime. I know , okay? But I can’t…” she feels her composure slipping, and takes a second to rein it back in. “I can’t let her leave and not see her. Like, actually see her, not from a distance, not in a mask,” not able to hold her , “just her and me and nobody trying to kill us.”
“I’m going soft.” Grime mutters to himself, sighing. “Okay. But I will come with you and make sure you get in and out safely. Deal?”
Sasha agrees immediately, but she feels a stab of guilt that Grime’s being dragged into this by her again . Isn’t this how I was with Anne and Marcy before we got here? Forcing them to go along with what I wanted to do? Maybe this is a mistake. She almost decides to call it off -- Grime’s right, this isn’t really their only chance -- but then she remembers Marcy saying “thank you” before she flew off, like she’d known Sasha was there, and that clinches it. She’s at least got to say “you’re welcome,” right? It would be rude not to. And hey, maybe she can wrangle a pardon for herself and Grime while she’s at it. Yeah, this isn’t just an excuse to see her at all. Who are you trying to kid, Waybright?
It actually doesn’t take much effort to sneak in, as it turns out. The day’s events seem to have exhausted everyone, and while there are certainly a few more guards than before -- courtesy of a freshly-arrived contingent responsible for what had been a truly amazing amount of artillery encircling the town -- they’re all more concerned with the business of preparing to leave. Locating Marcy’s tent takes a little more effort, and there’s a moment where Sasha’s positive they’re about to have to run for it, but Grime grins and throws a few bottles to make some noise and it draws the patrol’s attention off.
Then it’s just Sasha and Grime, standing in front of Marcy’s tent, and Sasha cannot bring herself to step forward. This is stupid she’s going to hate me she’d be right to hate me, we should go, this is too dangerous -
Her train of thought is interrupted by a cough from Grime, who seems to sense her turmoil the way he has increasingly been able to sense her moods. He gives her a long look, then solemnly gives her an awkward thumbs up. “Go get her, Lieutenant.” He whispers, then grins widely.
Which almost blows their cover, because Sasha nearly bursts into hysterical laughter on the spot, but to his credit, Grime’s managed to quell her anxiety. Sasha takes a deep breath, then darts across the path and into Marcy’s tent.
It takes a minute or so for Sasha’s eyes to adjust to the dim interior, but there’s no mistaking the shape on the bed. Marcy, Chief Ranger of the Night Guard and (apparent) savior of this town, has already tangled herself up in the sheets enough to look completely ridiculous, and has one arm under a pillow and one arm thrown out to the side. Sasha thinks, deep in a corner of her mind that she very rarely acknowledges but fuck it, she’s here and tired and wounded and they’ve both almost died more than once in the last two days, that it’s one of the most beautiful things she’s ever seen.
Sasha realizes that she’s suddenly completely and utterly overwhelmed. It’s her. It’s Marcy , and she’s right there , Sasha could reach out and touch her if she wanted, could brush the few rogue strands of Marcy’s hair that are currently straying dangerously close to her nose, which causes it to wrinkle and Marcy’s free arm lugubriously slaps herself in the face, which actually makes the situation a little worse, but sleeping Marcy seems to think it’s fine.
“Shit,” Sasha murmurs quietly, not even realizing what she’s saying until the words are already out of her mouth, “I’m doomed, aren’t I? I mean, I knew I was, way before we even came here, but… fuck, Marcy, do you have any idea how good it is to see you?”
Marcy snorts, shifts a leg, and executes some kind of contortion that flips her around so that her back is now to Sasha. There’s no way , Sasha thinks, looking at the curve of Marcy’s spine, she’s comfortable like that . Almost without thinking, Sasha extends a hand and frees Marcy’s leg from its sheet prison. Then, equally without thinking, she pulls a blanket up to cover Marcy’s shoulder, and briefly rests her hand there before good sense intervenes and she draws her hand back.
“I’ve missed you so much ,” Sasha whispers, and she feels more than hears how watery her voice is, this giant knot of emotion caught in her throat, “you and Anne both. I never should have…” She shakes her head. Shouldn’t she be trying to convince Marcy to join her? But then again, Marcy’s asleep, so who cares? Maybe, in the dead of night, with Marcy asleep, Sasha can manage to be honest. Nobody to see, and nobody to hear.
“I’m a bad friend, Marbles. I fucked up things with Anne, and she hates me now. I think she’s probably right to? I mean, I was just trying to get her back home, to get us all back home, but… she’s right. I’ve never let you guys... I haven’t let you know. Or let you disagree. Or let you choose . I’ve just dragged you along with what I wanted to do, because I don’t… I don’t know any other way to be. I’m just scared you guys don’t need me the way I need you. That… that you don’t want to be around me the way I want to be around you guys like, all the time. And now we’re here , in this weird fucking place, because I couldn’t let Anne go. I forced her to steal that box, and now we’re here, and I lost her, and I lost you , and…” she sobs (but quietly, because even being honest as she’s ever been, some habits are hard to break) and has to collect herself. “Fuck, I’m a mess. I keep trying to hold on to you and I think that might actually be hurting you, and I don’t… I don’t want to do that. I never wanted to do that, but… but I do. So... I’m going to fix this. I’m going to give you this whole world on a silver platter, and we’re gonna live like queens, and when we’re sick of it I’ll get us home safe and sound. Even Anne, even if she still hates me, I’m gonna get her home to her family. I swear , Marcy.”
“I think…” Sasha looks at Marcy, sleeping and peaceful, and decides that yeah, she might as well say this out loud before it kills her, before it crawls up her throat and chokes the life out of her, “I think I love you two. Like, you know, more than uh,” she huffs a laugh, “more than I should. But I don’t… I don’t know how to… deal. With that. It’ll ruin everything to tell you.” It’ll give you the ability to hurt me worse than anyone has ever hurt me , she can’t quite say, not even here in the dark with nobody to hear her. “I just… I know, this is dumb, you’re asleep so none of this matters, I’m just rambling because I’d never say any of this to you, I mean can you imagine me being like ‘hey Mar-mar, what’s going on, you wanna go on a date sometime?’ But… I had to say it, you know? Even if you’re asleep and none of this matters. I had to say it, and I’m so glad, I am so fucking glad you didn’t die, I don’t know what I would-”
Which is about when Marcy’s voice mumbles a sleepy, “Sash?” and Sasha’s heart stops.
“H.. hey, Marbles.” Sasha stammers, a million thoughts running through her head, all of them more or less a variation on oh fuck . She should run, but then Marcy’s regarding her with this sleepy little smile and, well, that’s it for any plans Sasha might have re: running away.
Marcy seems to take the presence of Sasha in her tent completely in stride, like obviously Sasha’s here, it makes complete sense. She sits up a little more, regarding Sasha closely, and pats the mattress. “Well don’t just stand there, come here.”
Sasha realizes that she’s kind of just been standing frozen for the last several seconds, approaching a minute, and slowly unclenches and moves to the bed and sits next to Marcy but not too next to Marcy. “You um… you’re taking this well.” she says, and immediately regrets saying it.
Marcy laughs and looks a little embarrassed. “Well, you know, it’s not like this is the first time you’ve shown up.”
“Oh, you uh- what?”
“You know, like, in a dream?” Marcy elaborates, and gives Sasha a sideways look. “I mean, this is just a dream. It makes sense! I had a long day, I fell asleep, you’ve been on my mind and, well, here you are! ”
“Here I am.” Sasha agrees, and breathes a traitorous sigh of relief. “Yep. Dream Sasha. You catch on quick.”
“Like I said,” Marcy says, and there’s a twinkle of amusement in her eyes, “this is becoming a common thing here.”
Hearing the girl you just admitted you might, sort of, be in love with say dreaming of you is becoming a common thing is a lot to take in, and Sasha feels like her entire body might have just blushed. She swallows and tries very hard not to ask the question on the tip of her tongue, “What uh,” no don’t , “what kind of dreams are we talking about here, Marbles?” Shit .
There’s definitely a mischievous look on Marcy’s face now that makes Sasha’s heart stutter-step and her mouth dry. Marcy scoots a little closer and, like she does this all the time, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, nuzzles into Sasha’s shoulder. “Oh,” Marcy says, voice innocent, “you know. Nice ones.”
Sasha isn’t sure why she starts crying, but she does. Something in her heart bursts, and she’s overwhelmed, and the tears simply refuse to stop. The idea of anyone , let alone Marcy, dreaming about her, and considering those dreams nice , is… too much, maybe, for her to believe. Marcy reacts almost immediately, drawing back and looking horrified.
“Oh no, did I do something wrong? Is this one of those dreams where I end up losing everything and it’s all my fault? Is that voice going to start taunting me again?”
Sasha feels like she’s in the most danger she’s ever been in, because of the way that Marcy’s panic snaps her out of her own head and replaces every thought with do not let Marcy blame herself for this , so she does the only thing that seems like it makes sense, which is to grab Marcy’s hands and press them together while whispering “Oh, Marcy, no, it’s not you, I promise, I’m just…” just what? Sasha thinks, overwhelmed with happiness because at least some of what I feel about you might be reciprocated? “It’s been a long day and I feel like my brain’s all over the place.” is what Sasha settles on. “I mean, you almost died . I don’t know what I would do if that happened. Especially if, well…” am I really going to say this to her when she’s actually conscious? Sasha thinks, then thinks, I mean she thinks this is a dream, so maybe I’ve already said something like this to her in her dreams and this won’t be weird? “You’re… you… I mean, you mean uh…” this shouldn’t be hard, but the way Marcy’s stilled and is looking directly at her is making Sasha’s stomach do all kinds of insane things, and her heart feels like it’s either going to explode or just give up and stop beating altogether.
Then Marcy does the unthinkable and, gently removing one of her hands from Sasha’s, cups Sasha’s face and wipes away some rogue tears, tracing the scar Anne left as she does so. “Hey, it’s okay,” Marcy says, and she has the fucking audacity to giggle and sound like the most beautiful thing on Earth or Amphibia before she leans in close -- too close, oh my fucking frog too close what’s she -- and whispers, “I think I’ve kind of figured it out” before her lips brush so, so fucking lightly across Sasha’s and just like that, every other thought Sasha might have re: this being a bad idea (does Marcy really think this is a dream? Is it fucked up to kiss your friend if your friend thinks it’s a dream? What if your friend is the one kissing you? What if just being in this situation makes you think that Grime must have slipped you some kind of drug before you left and you’re the one having a dream, passed out in Gravel’s house?) goes out the window because Sasha, well, Sasha kisses back.
More than just kiss back, as it turns out, because now that the dam’s broken Sasha’s dropped Marcy’s other hand in favor of wrapping one arm tightly around her waist, pulling Marcy up and into her lap, while the other hand snakes up Marcy’s back to tangle her fingers in her hair, every thought in her brain reduced to dust, just a repetition of Marcy, Marcy, Marcy, Marcy is kissing me, I’m kissing Marcy, yes this is good yes .
Sasha pulls back and Marcy looks like she’s been hit by a truck, assuming the truck was like, a sexy truck or something, Sasha isn’t really good with words right now. There’s silence for a moment while neither of them speak, just catch their breath and stare.
“So, uh,” Sasha says, then licks her lips, “is this how the dream usually goes?”
Marcy gives a breathy “Yeah, something like that,” and kisses Sasha again. This time Sasha ends up falling backwards on the bed, and Marcy follows her down, laughing. Sasha feels light, free, like everything’s going just great , and Marcy curls up next to her and throws an arm around Sasha and nestles in the crook of her arm and sighs and it’s like Sasha’s heart is finally at peace ( now if only Anne were here too , a stray thought says, before being snuffed out). She can feel sleep starting to steal in, and Marcy’s breathing has started to even out too. She could just… stay. She could stay here and wake up tomorrow morning and inform Marcy this wasn’t a dream, and maybe she and Grime will get a pardon (but then what happens to the rebellion? A problem for future Sasha and Grime to figure out, maybe).
Except… sometimes you end up needing to protect your friends from you , flits through her head, followed by, you have to find your true strength , and Sasha knows, deep down, that she can’t stay here. There’s more to do, and Marcy… Marcy seems like she’s thriving here. Can I promise that things won’t go back to how they were between us if I stay? Sasha thinks, and then another, even worse thought, if Anne saw us together, would that turn her against Marcy too?
Maybe this is what her true strength ends up being: the strength to have what she wants, really wants, and to walk away from it because it can’t happen like this. Or it can, but not now .
Sasha tries to keep her voice light as she asks, “So how do these dreams usually end?”
Maybe Marcy really was falling asleep, because her immediate response is to tighten her grip around Sasha’s waist before the answer comes. “We fall asleep together, and then I wake up.” Her voice gets small. “I guess it’s no use asking you to stay, is it?”
It’s a dagger to Sasha’s heart, and she curses herself for this, curses the entire fucking world that’s both given her Marcy in a way she never thought she could have and is now demanding that she leave , because achieving victory means making sacrifices, and oh , this is the biggest sacrifice Sasha’s ever going to make. “Sorry Marbles,” she says, and she knows her voice is watery, “you know that’s not how dreams work.”
“Yeah,” Marcy says, sighing, “I know. But maybe this time… can I say goodbye?”
Sasha sits up, gently untangles herself from Marcy. “Yeah, of course you can.”
Marcy pulls Sasha in for a hug. “Goodbye Sash.” She kisses Sasha one last time, rests their foreheads together. “I love you.”
Sasha feels her heart break. “Love you too, Marcy. Tell the real me that when you see her, okay? She… she’s looking for you. I know it.”
“I know you are,” Marcy says softly, and for a moment Sasha swears that her eyes spark green. Marcy squeezes her hand tightly before releasing it. “Now go on, it’ll be dawn soon and I need to wake up at some point, don’t I?” She smiles, sunny and sad and maybe a little hopeful, then settles back into her bed. Sasha stands and turns, stepping away. She feels Marcy’s gaze follow her as she walks to the tent flap, listens for guards, and slips out.
Grime takes one look at her face and says nothing, but gives her hand a squeeze before they make their way out of the camp and back to Gravel’s. Then, much like the night they came back from the quarantine zone, he pulls her into a hug and Sasha cries harder than she’s ever cried before.
“I had to leave her, Grime.” she says, between sobs, “There’s too much else going on, and I can’t pull her into all this.”
“Sometimes,” Grime says, “victory requires a great sacrifice. You know it, and I believe your Marcy does too.” Which is a strange thing for Grime to say, Sasha thinks (nevermind the way her heart leaps at the idea of her Marcy ), but then he continues. “You will see her again, Sasha, and it will make this all worthwhile.”
She knows Grime’s right, of course. Knows it like she knows the sun’s going to come up in the morning (which she knows is not as far off as she’d like, but it’s fine, she spent most of yesterday afternoon asleep). “Yeah,” she manages to say, “you’re right.” Somehow saying it makes her feel better, a little stronger, so she repeats, “you’re right ,” and stands up and feels, well, she still feels like shit, but there’s a clarity of purpose now. She knows what she stands to gain with this whole thing, now, and it’s (at the very least) Marcy Wu and her absurdly soft lips. She goes to the room she’s been using, lays down, misses how it felt having Marcy curled against her, and falls asleep.
Morning does, in fact, come too quickly, but Sasha wakes up feeling surprisingly good for having her heart shattered into roughly a billion shards last night. Maybe it’s because she knows this is necessary, or maybe it’s the whole strength thing she keeps being reminded of (an image of a small red frog with a giant hammer flits across her consciousness, and it’s familiar and strangely comforting), or maybe it’s the fact that even though she has to let Marcy go now, she knows , knows that Marcy’s in love with her, wants to be with her , and hey it sucks that they’ve got to part ways for a while, but Sasha wouldn’t trade that knowledge for anything in the whole fucking world.
So yeah, she thinks, why not ask Grime if he wants to go observe the Newtonian Army’s withdrawal from the safety of the trees? “After all,” she says, “it’s a good chance to get a feel for just how big of a force we’ll be up against, don’t you think?”
Grime hmms. “Yes, and I’m sure this has nothing to do with you wanting to see your… friend again, hmm?”
“Shut the fuck up, Grimesy!” Sasha says, cheerily.
Grime laughs. “Very well, Lieutenant. Let’s do some intelligence gathering.”
Gravel makes them both promise to return to town once the army’s gone -- something about a few denizens of the town wanting to thank them personally, which Sasha’s not gonna turn down since that was, after all, the point of this whole exercise (well, in theory. In practice, it turns out the point was kissing Marcy Wu).
They have a good view of the soldiers mustering for the march -- Sasha can spot General Yunan strutting around and barking orders, but strangely, she doesn’t see Marcy. Maybe she’s sleeping in , Sasha thinks, after all, she had to be carried back to town last night and then I ended up waking her up and she blushes at the memory.
“Look at their movements,” Grime says, interrupting Sasha’s train of thought, “half of them are sloppy. I bet this was the first time most of them have even been out of the city.”
“Hell of a first deployment.” Sasha snorts. “Go surround this town, wait, nevermind, come home.”
“You uh,” Grime says, making a face, “you do know what they were here to do, right?”
“This might surprise you, Grime,” Sasha says, “but I can put two and two together. I assume if whatever lead Marcy ended up chasing didn’t pan out, the King would have leveled the town to keep the plague from spreading.”
“The King,” Grime replies, “did not give that order.”
Sasha doesn’t need him to tell her who did. She knows immediately, almost instinctively. I guess she really does know something about being willing to sacrifice for victory , Sasha thinks, then, strangely, she feels a swell of pride. Didn’t know you had it in you, Marbles. Then she wonders why it is that Marcy’s willingness to destroy an entire town in order to win seems like a positive quality ( because that would be the toad-like solution to the problem, and you’re something of a toad these days, aren’t you? ).
As if summoned by the conversation, Sasha finally spots Marcy in the distance, striding up to have a few words with General Yunan that, for obvious reasons, Sasha cannot hear at all. Then, instead of heading to join the throng of newts preparing to march off, she strikes a pose, shouts something, and snaps her fingers. The giant bird from the forest swoops down and lands in front of Marcy, who mounts up. There’s a few more words exchanged, then Marcy takes off into the air and Sasha, who was doing just fine with the idea of having to let Marcy go, thanks, can’t tear her eyes away from the sight. The bird does a lazy circuit of the area, and Sasha is struck by the thought that Marcy’s looking for her , because a thought Sasha’s beginning to have is that Marcy knew it wasn’t a dream, and was just playing along (which means they are both now carrying a shared secret, one they won’t acknowledge until much, much later, when things are settled down. After another few rebellions and some daring rescues and more than a couple difficult conversations and at least one undone death).
Once Marcy’s gone, Sasha focuses on troop movements, grateful for the distraction. “So what do you think, Captain? Do we have the men we need to win?”
Grime ponders this. “Maybe. We should aim for a more subtle plan, perhaps -- the element of surprise will allow us to break their spirits early, and if we have the full strength of the Toad Lords behind us, well… I like our odds. We just need to convince them we’re on to something.”
“Speaking of which,” Sasha says, watching the last of the Newtopian Army march out of the town’s gates, “you think it’s safe to head into town? See what the people have for us?”
The two head back into the town and are greeted by Gravel, who leads them into the quarantine zone where several grateful survivors offer any number of valuable rewards. Grime politely but firmly turns them all down, saying only that he and his companion (meaning Sasha, who has her hood up and is once again playing the role of mysterious creature) were invested in helping those the Newtopian Empire seemed determined to ignore.
Then, they’re approached by a wizened old newt with a missing arm. She looks Sasha up and down and sniffs. “You are another traveler from beyond, I see. The third I’ve seen.”
That’s interesting , Sasha thinks, “Another like me passed through here?”
“No, not here ,” the newt responds, “but perhaps there may be truth to the old prophecies after all.”
“Prophecy?” Grime asks, curious.
“Three travelers from beyond will come,” the newt intones, “and their coming will either bring, or prevent, calamity. So the stories say. But first they will have to face the temples.”
“Temples?”
“In the temples they will face trials,” the newt continues, ignoring Sasha’s question, “and choose to keep or sacrifice their powers. Then, and only then, will they be able to return to their home.”
“So just to check,” Sasha says, “there’s three temples, and facing those temples will help the uh, three travelers get home?”
“Was that not clear?” The newt asks, sounding almost a little offended. “I feel like I was being pretty straightforward.”
“No, no, you’re fine.” Sasha waves the newt off. “You uh, yeah. Thanks. Very useful.” She turns to Grime and says “Don’t you think she was useful?” before turning back and doing a double-take. The newt is gone.
“Well!” Grime says, clapping his hands together and rubbing them vigorously. “That was weird!”