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Marcy never really gets better at taking care of herself, which is why Anne isn’t entirely surprised when she arrives on the Boonchuys’ doorstep, an oversized hoodie wrapped around her shoulders as it rains, her hair plastered to her head. She looks desperately panicked - she’s never liked the rain much and months spent engulfed in liquid had only made it worse - and there are bags a mile wide under her eyes.
She looks a bit like a drenched cat. Anne can’t help but snort under her breath, even as she holds the door open wordlessly.
And she could say I told you so, because she had ; she had noticed Marcy struggling to keep up with her studies a few days ago, a sure sign that she’s once again dumped too much onto her own shoulders, and she had offered assistance, and Marcy had brushed her off and assured that she would be fine, she’s always fine.
But she doesn’t. She takes one look at the way Marcy’s eyes grow softer just being in her presence, and she closes the door behind her on her way in, watching the way Marcy slips the hoodie off, the loose tshirt underneath it revealing just the tiniest bit of dark, scarred skin, the base of a gnarly scar that nobody else is allowed to see. Marcy feels safe here, comfortable, and Anne would never take advantage of that.
“Everything okay, Marce?” Anne asks, softly, stepping around her to take the drenched hoodie from Marcy’s hands. She can throw it in the dryer for a cycle or two, no biggie. “My parents are at work right now, so it’s just us.”
Marcy’s shoulders relax visibly at that, and she plasters a weak, strained smile on her face, reaching up with one arm to squeeze some of the water out of her hair. “I’m-okay. Need to… sit down, maybe.” Her voice is raspy and airy, and Anne sighs.
“Did you walk all the way here without your crutches?” She offers her arm, and Marcy takes it, leaning against Anne heavily with a deep exhale. “Marbles, you know how bad for you that is.”
“Didn’t…” Marcy makes a frustrated noise in the back of her throat, her voice failing her in a way it only does when she’s super sleep deprived or has otherwise pushed her overtaxed body a bit too hard. Adjusting has been hard for all of them, but at least Anne had gotten away with only mental scars and the occasional tingling and numbness in her arms. “Didn’t, didn’t get the chance.”
“Come on, sit down.” Anne helps Marcy sit down on the couch, watching the way she collapses into the cushions with a breathy sigh of relief, shivering from the lingering chill of the rain. “I’m gonna throw your hoodie in the dryer and get some blankets, we’re having a self-care night.”
It’s why Marcy came, after all; if she hadn’t had the time to do something as small as grab her crutches to help manage the exertion and nerve damage, she must be super burned out. Normally, they would plan these nights out ahead of time, but Sasha’s been busying herself with things a lot more recently - she’s thrown herself into community service and helping others, trying to be better for them, truly being better for them - and Anne never minds it when it’s just one of them.
It’s not like we don’t feel Sasha’s presence when we’re alone anyways, she snickers to herself, draping one of the blankets that Sasha had knitted for her over Marcy’s shivering form. It earns her a grateful look, Marcy tugging the blanket around her shoulders and staring blankly into space. She doesn’t say anything else, but she doesn’t need to.
When Anne returns from dropping Marcy’s hoodie off into the dryer - also gathering some essentials for a self-care night, like hot chocolate, and a few of her favorite movies - Marcy hasn’t moved at all, still staring blankly up towards the tv, her eyelids drooping. It’s easy, so easy, to remember how messed up they all are here, when Marcy’s lost her normal energy and just looks exhausted and drained.
“Sooo,” she draws out, setting her hot chocolate on the coffee table and pressing the other mug into Marcy’s hands. Marcy clutches it instantly, inhaling the steam as her expression morphs into something content. “Do you wanna talk about what you’ve been working on?”
Sometimes, Marcy jumps on this, eagerly explaining her projects and hobbies and the things she’s been doing to ease her own guilt and keep her mind busy. Today, though, she just shakes her head, sinking against Anne when Anne sits next to her. “Will, will you talk? Bout anything?”
“Yeah dude!” Anne wraps an arm around Marcy’s trembling shoulders, tugging her closer. “Did you know that Kathy - yeah, Kathy C, the one from geography? - is crushing on Mason from bio? Mason already has a girlfriend! I’ve told her, I’ve told her she’s gotta be careful, but she’s started writing love notes, and it’d be so romantic but Mason’s girlfriend, Angela, is like, the sweetest girl in the world, she doesn’t deserve this at all. And they’ve been together for like, five years!”
“Mm,” Marcy snuggles into Anne’s neck, and though her breathing is heavy and ragged and uneven, she’s breathing. It’s a comfort that Anne never realized she needed, not until she had almost lost them. Her chest must hurt pretty badly today, though, because she winces after just a few seconds of staying in that position, straying from Anne’s side to sit more upright despite the conflicted look in her eyes.
“Oh, come here, you.” Anne snorts, and she guides Marcy carefully into her own lap, reclining in such a way that Marcy can sink easily into Anne’s arms, chest resting against Anne’s own. Her hands automatically find their way against Marcy’s back, tentatively tracing over the area where she knows the scar is but supporting her nonetheless.
“Thanks, Annie,” Marcy breathes, and she makes a sleepy little sound in her throat. “I haven’t… haven’t slept in a bit. Thanks for letting me come over.” She never sleeps well nowadays, Anne knows this from personal experience; this isn’t the first time that one or both of her girls have come to her place for cuddles to keep the nightmares and memories at bay.
“You’re welcome here anytime, Marbles, really.” Anne idly traces circles into Marcy’s back, using one hand to take the mug of hot chocolate away from her before it spills. She’s sipped at it a little, but doesn’t seem to have any intention on finishing it, just tugs the knitted blanket over her and Anne both with a content sigh. “Do you want to take a nap? You look like you need it.”
“Wh- what about you?”
“Eh, I can put on a drama or something, it’s what I was gonna do today anyways. Don’t stress it, Marmalade.”
Marcy laughs into Anne’s neck, her hands clenching at Anne’s shirt. “That’s a new one.”
“What can I say? You’re very nickname-able.” Anne smiles, and she fumbles for the tv remote. “Get some rest, seriously. We can paint our nails and call Sasha to whine at her for missing out when you wake up.”
“Okay, okay.” Marcy snuggles into Anne’s neck, her body going lax, and this once would’ve been cause for panic but now Anne just tangles a hand into her hair, relishes in the comfort that her warmth brings.
They can have some fun later, she decides, turning on some random show and adjusting the volume so that it doesn’t wake up Marcy from her well-deserved nap. For now, she’s quite content to sit here, one of the girls she loves so much tenderly cradled in her arms, safe and alive and home despite everything. She doesn’t need anything else.