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Marcy is not often the one turned to for comfort, which is why it’s surprising when Sasha slips through the unlocked window of Marcy’s bedroom, landing on the floor with an ease that comes from familiarity.
It's a good thing she’s still awake, Marcy muses, sitting upright at her desk and blinking as Sasha spins on her heel, eyes furiously glancing around the room. She doesn't react to surprises very well, not anymore, but it's just amusing in this context, watching Sasha spin around the room, eyes searching through the dim blue lamplight until they find Marcy’s shadow.
“Is-” her voice comes out choked, the words catching in her throat as her weakened lungs struggle to keep up, “is, is everything alright Sasha?”
Sasha makes a face, and she storms towards Marcy’s chair. She doesn’t answer; she and Marcy aren’t ones to talk about their feelings, there’s always been something unspoken in their dynamic even before Amphibia. It’s also very late at night - or very early in the morning, depending on how you look at it - and if Marcy can feel the dredges of sleep-deprivation tugging at her consciousness, she’s certain that Sasha can as well.
“S-sash,” she stutters, frustratedly clearing her throat, “it’s late. What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a girl want to cuddle with her girlfriend in peace?” Sasha finally says, defensive in a way she so rarely is nowadays, and she stops in front of Marcy’s desk, hands on her hips. “Come on, Marce. You should be in bed.”
“So should you!” Marcy raises her hands in self-defense, and Sasha takes the opportunity to lean down, scooping Marcy out of her chair and into a pair of strong arms and a lean chest and really, Marcy can never complain with being carried by one of her girlfriends, but in this context it’s just confusing.
Nevertheless, she does little more than squeak as Sasha tucks her head into her chest, adjusts Marcy in her arms for a proper bridal-carry. Marcy’s legs dangle uselessly off the side, but she wraps her arms around Sasha’s neck for stability, clutching on as tightly as she can manage. For a moment, Sasha doesn’t even move, she just stands there, holding Marcy to her with ragged inhales.
Oh. Marcy knows what’s going on now.
“Sashy,” she whispers, turning her head so that she’s nuzzled into Sasha’s neck and shoulder, breathing against pale skin. “I’m okay. Can, can we go lay down now? You can spend the night, I’m sure Cat won’t mind.”
Not even the mention of Marcy’s sister - whom Marcy lives with nowadays, so she could stay in LA with her girlfriends - has Sasha moving, but she does finally, somewhat reluctantly carry Marcy to the bed after lingering for a few more seconds. She sits down on the edge of the bed slowly, and Marcy shifts herself into a more upright position, still tucked into Sasha’s chest.
“I’m okay, love,” she breathes, forcing her stutter to go away out of sheer willpower, breathing in and out steadily to keep her voice level and even. “Sashy, I’m okay. I’m okay. Can we lay down?”
“Mm.” Sasha flops over, sending the both of them tumbling onto the bed. Immediately, there are arms around Marcy’s chest, tugging her close, and Marcy just snorts, embracing her newfound life. She could die right here and be happy, she thinks, not even bothering to try and reach over to turn her lamp off and instead curling further into Sasha’s chest.
They lay like this for awhile, long enough that Marcy starts to grow drowsy, her eyelids fluttering as she breathes in the scent of Sasha’s perfume, tangles hands into the back of Sasha’s shirt with a sleepy sigh.
“Sorry,” Sasha finally murmurs lowly, “for all this.”
“Like I’d ever say no to girlfriend cuddles,” Marcy says teasingly, pulling herself back just far enough that she can see the glimmer of Sasha’s eyes, the soft expression on her face. “But seriously. Do you…” ugh, feelings are so hard- “...do you, do you wanna talk about it?”
Sasha pauses, and for a moment Marcy thinks that’s gonna be it, they’re not gonna talk about their feelings - because if they wanted to talk about it, they’d go to Anne, Anne has always been the emotional one of the three of them - but then she sighs, long and heavy and so telling, and peers down at Marcy through half-lidded eyes.
“I was worried about you,” she says, and then makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “Ugh. I can’t do this with you staring at me.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Marcy giggles, and she leans forwards again. They shift around so that Sasha is laying flat on her back, Marcy curled up on her chest, hands and legs tangled together. One of Sasha’s arms is draped over Marcy protectively, and Marcy clutches Sasha’s shirt with the hand not holding Sasha’s own, listening to the steady thump thump of Sasha’s heartbeat as she lays against her chest.
“I was worried,” Sasha finally continues, once they’re all situated, laying in the dim blue light of Marcy’s bedroom. “Anne said you haven’t been sleeping well-”
“-I have never slept well, ever, in my life.”
“-and I kept having dreams of being back… there, ” and Sasha makes another strangled noise. The hand against Marcy’s back raises to curl into her hair, and Marcy can hear the way her breathing picks up, heartbeat racing.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” she whispers, automatically. “You don’t have to talk if it’s going to hurt you, Sash.”
“No, no it’s okay, I just,” Sasha sighs again, and she sniffs hard, suddenly sounding watery and on the verge of tears. “I don’t like breaking down in front of you. It doesn’t feel right. Especially for this. ” It’s painfully honest for her, something which they’ve both struggled with in the past, and Marcy can’t help but feel a surge of pride.
“Sashy, it’s okay, really. You can tell me anything, I promise. Didn’t we all agree to that when we came back? To be open and honest with each other no matter what?” By the end of the short speech, Marcy’s throat feels icky, and she coughs, feeling boneless as she slumps a bit further against her girlfriend. “Y-you don’t gotta worry a-about me.”
“I just don’t want to lose you again.” Sasha’s voice breaks here, and she sniffs again, her breathing heavy and uneven. “I, I had to come see you, make sure you were okay. I couldn’t even just call, because your voice isn’t enough, I had to see you.”
“So, so you broke i-into my room,” Marcy teases.
“Yeah.” Sasha’s fingers comb through Marcy’s hair. “Sorry. I… sorry.”
“Sashy, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you a-apologize so many times in your life.” Marcy snorts, and she yawns, her eyes fluttering closed. “It’s, it’s okay, really. I get it. I’m okay, I’m okay. ” She squeezes the hand interlocked with Sasha’s comfortingly. “If, if you hadn’t come, I might’ve stayed up too late, though. So thanks.”
Sasha huffs in thinly veiled amusement. “Nerd.”
“I’m your nerd.”
“...yeah, you are.” It’s so fond and loving, Marcy feels like her heart could burst. She didn’t think she’d get to have this, not after the events of Amphibia, everything they had gone through because of her. She didn’t think she’d get to have her girls at her side, and yet here they are, curled together in the middle of the night, happy .
“I, I meant it, when I said you could stay,” she says, instead of voicing any of her feelings, because she thinks she’d rather die than admit to Sasha that she’s been in love with her for as long as she can remember. “Cat won’t mind. So… so stay? I’ll, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Sasha’s arm squeezes Marcy against her, and it’s comforting, the way Marcy feels like home here in her arms. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
“Good, good.” Marcy yawns again, her eyes still closed. “I’m gonna… gonna sleep now, mkay? Goodnight, Sashy. We can, we can call Anne in the morning and brag about having a sleepover without her.”
“Now I know you’re teasing me,” Sasha grumbles, but she must lean forward, the feeling of lips against Marcy’s hair intimate and soft. “Night, Marshmallow. Sleep well.”
And though she’s had troubles sleeping for as long as she can remember, though her own memories plague her in her dreams and tend to keep her awake… here, in the arms of someone she loves so much, Marcy falls asleep peacefully.