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Marcy gripped the sink with a vice grip, tears in the corner of their eyes threatening to fall.
They traced their hand down the ropey, twisted, nasty scar stretching all the way from the bottom of their throat all the way to the very top of their belly button; their hand shuddering as they did.
Usually, Marcy loved their scars. They always thought that they made them look more badass, even the one on her jawline they got from Sasha all those years ago in Amphibia, but this one was different..
They despised this scar. They loathed it. It reminded them of one of the worst moments in their life, getting stabbed by King Andrias – who they had seen as their father figure way back then – and when they thought they would die with their best friends hating them.
Marcy hated that scar because it reminded them of the stupid, juvenile decisions they made when they were thirteen all because their parents needed to move, and even in the end going to Amphibia didn’t even stop that.
It reminded them of the white-hot pain of their lungs being seared by fire, their spine being completely shattered by a sizzling hot blaze shooting through the middle of their torso and their heart being completely obliterated when they were stabbed by who they thought was their friend.
Every time they changed or took a shower or wore slightly more revealing clothing than usual they would be reminded of it; even when they tried to ignore it they could still see the jagged and ugly sharp edges of it sticking out from the bottom or top of their clothing. They could always feel it, how heavy it felt stretching across their chest and back, but the worst part was that they could still feel the pain sometimes.
They could still feel the blistering pain through their chest for a brief moment, sometimes even longer, and sometimes it would be triggered by their hand just brushing over the burnt, ropey, scarred flesh. It just made their heart ache all the more, the guilt crushing them completely.
No matter how many times Marcy tried scrubbing their scar in the shower, sobbing to themself, hitting their forehead with frustration, tugging at their hair and praying that it would just disappear and be clean because of all the soap or it would just fall off like a scab, yet it never did, and it was always there to remind them of their mistakes no matter how hard they tried to heal or forget it and put their dumb mistakes in the back of their mind.
The longer Marcy stared at the mirror back at themself, the harder it was to hold back tears. They felt a burning in their throat as they saw their vision shake, making an ugly gasp as they tried to hold back their tears. Their body couldn’t stop trembling no matter how hard they gripped their sides and dug their nails into their arms to try and stop freaking out, not wanting to wake their lovers who were asleep.
Their hands shook on the sink and they could feel their face getting hot as they desperately tried not to start sobbing, shakily reaching out a red-toned hand to run cold water and splash it onto their face, hoping it would help them calm down or at least look like they weren’t just bawling their eyes out.
“Marcy?”
And there it was, Marcy’s safe place. The sweet, comforting, pseudo-raspy voice of their beloved girlfriend, Anne, which was rough from non-usage, but it still sounded gorgeous.
They looked over to see Anne standing in the bathroom door frame, her eyes soft and worried and slightly wide as she took in the state that Marcy was in right now, her curly hair messy and sticking out in different places like she just rolled out of bed (which she probably did).
Marcy knew they looked like a mess themself, probably even more so than their girlfriend; frizzy, messy hair, face probably redder than a Doritos bag, their eyes watery, puffy and bloodshot, and only dressed in the same goofy Minecraft boxers they always wore to sleep and a random sports bra.
Anne immediately approached Marcy, her warm hand reaching out to gently and lovingly cup Marcy’s face, a loving, tired look of concern in her eyes.
That was something Marcy had always loved about Anne. She always made them feel so safe and comforted and they always knew exactly what was upsetting Marcy. Sasha made Marcy feel protected in a way like an overprotective bodyguard — in a good way of course —, but Anne was different in a way. She just had such a soft aura that made Marcy completely melt and make them feel like wearing their heart on their sleeve.
Maybe it was the fact that Anne was looking at them with those beautiful, knowing eyes, or maybe it was just their desperate need for affection in their very unstable state, but they immediately melted into her touch, fat tears rolling down their cheeks as they crumbled to the floor.
Anne immediately reacted, not even saying a word as she got on her knees and let Marcy cling onto her, sobbing into her chest.
Marcy just melted. They couldn’t stop sobbing, no matter how many times they gasped to try and contain themself or sniffle to hold back any more pain they were dumping onto Anne.
Marcy trembled and shook as they desperately clung to Anne’s shirt. They didn’t— they couldn’t even say a word, choked sobs and pure anguish in their cries, ugly gasps and snorts and incoherent stammers and murmurs escaping their mouth as they felt Anne’s comforting and relaxed heartbeat against their head.
Anne probably knew why Marcy was upset, this wasn’t the first time they woke up due to nightmares about their time in Amphibia due to their PTSD, but they never let themselves cry this much in fear of making Anne disgusted or mad by how stupid and emotional they were being, but they couldn’t even bring themselves to think about that at the moment.
Anne comforted Marcy the whole time, however, and let them cry, giving them gentle kisses on the head and soft rubs on their back — making sure to be clear of their scar — as they cried, holding them as close as she could to her. Anne didn’t budge, and she wouldn’t until Marcy was okay. She just remained there, mumbling soft comforting words such as ‘i love you’ or ‘its okay, shh,’ and nuzzling her face into Marcy’s long frizzy black hair.
Fifteen to ten minutes pass – it felt maybe longer – of Marcy sobbing and crying into Anne’s chest until the cries finally stopped, small sniffling, hiccups, and tiny little stutters of fumbled words that Anne couldn’t decipher spilling out, like they were trying to rationalize something with themself.
“What’s the matter?”
Anne asked her lover gently and sweetly after a little, petting their hair softly and gently scratching their scalp as if they were a dog. Her voice was soft like silk, gentle enough to melt even the coldest of hearts, and in this case, Marcy’s.
“Why don’t you hate me?”
Marcy’s grip tensed on Anne’s shirt as they asked this question, their voice quivering from the events of moments prior. Their legs had tucked in closer to their stomach as if they were trying to get as close as they could to their girlfriend as a sign of comforting themself.
“What?”
Anne asked, her voice still soft, but Marcy could practically hear the way her eyes widened in her tone, she was definitely taken back.
This was when Marcy lifted their head up to meet Anne’s. They knew they looked like shit, but they didn’t care as they averted Anne’s eyes, guilt lacing their hazel eyes.
“Why don’t you hate me?”
They echoed quietly, their eyes red and dark from tears that spilled out.
“Why would I hate you?”
Anne questioned, caressing Marcy’s tearstained cheek with sympathy; her heart aching for her lover and her heart shattering in her eyes as her other hand rubbed gentle and slow circles on their back.
“You should.”
Marcy said coldly and bitterly, tears welling up in the corner of their eyes again as they looked away for a mere second, feeling that familiar burning in their throat once again and scrunching their nose to avoid breaking down again.
“You should hate me. You should yell at me, kick me out, beat me up, whatever! I deserve it! I don’t deserve anything!”
Marcy felt their voice go higher and break as they gasped desperately at Anne, their voice shaking as they looked away in shame.
Marcy suddenly felt two hands tenderly grab their cheeks and turn their head; wiping away any stray tears on their face and any stress that might’ve been still pent up over the years in the same soft action. It was Anne. Marcy’s gorgeous, comforting, savior of Amphibia, and more importantly – and conveniently – Marcy, girlfriend Anne.
Anne’s eyes showed no disgust, no annoyance, no anger, only worriedness and pure love. It made Marcy melt even more into her touch.
“Do you want me to do those things?”
Anne’s voice was calm and genuine, like an innocent and ethereal question, Marcy could listen to it for years and never get bored or uncomfortable whatsoever.
Marcy paused, their eyes looking away from Anne’s once again, but their trembling hands going softly over Anne’s tender and warm ones on their cheeks.
“Well.. no.. but you should!” Marcy fretted, her eyes wide as they darted around desperately.
“Marcy, you were thirteen going on fourteen. You were scared, you were impulsive, you were a child. You couldn’t have known better.” Anne said, taking her hands off Marcy’s cheeks to hold Marcy’s cold, shaking hands that were resting over hers with such kindness and compassion that it almost instantly calmed Marcy down
“We were all kids, we all made dumb mistakes back then because none of us were in the right state of mind.”
Anne sighed, rubbing Marcy’s knuckles with her thumb. “But we’re older, me and Sasha both had the time to forgive you, and we did. We both love you, Marcy. There’s no reason for us to hate you, because it’s in the past, and we’re all okay and safe.”
“The past is the past and you can’t change it, but it makes us have better relationships and helps us become better people. Hell, I was a bratty and selfish kid before and now look at me, look at you! You’ve grown so much, and maybe you have some rough reminders of a mental scar in your mind, but that doesn’t make you awful, quite the opposite. It makes you way stronger, that you were able to go this far and fight through so much pain, that’s amazing..”
Anne said genuinely with a soft smile, looking back up at Marcy who started crying again.
“Wha— Why are you crying? Did I make it worse!?” Anne started freaking out, her eyes wide as she raised up her hands the way a red panda would as a defense mechanism.
Marcy snorted, wiped away their tears and started laughing softly and shakily, their heart warming at Anne’s reaction. “Anne! Anne! No, it’s okay!” Marcy giggled quietly. Anne always had a way of making Marcy laugh no matter how sad they were.
Anne quirked a brow in confusion, but started giggling as well as a chain reaction to Marcy’s laughter, though her laughter was more nervous.
“That was just.. you’re too forgiving.” Marcy admitted, their laughter dying down to look away with a shy smile.
Anne smiled genuinely, her heart fluttering in her eyes and her anxiety of making Marcy feel worse completely evaporating as she let out a sigh.
“And you’re too hard on yourself.”
Anne said softly, cupping Marcys cheek in her hand and pressing a soft kiss to their forehead, feeling the tiny nicks and scars of time beneath.
Marcy leaned into Anne’s neck and relaxed slightly, letting themself regain a normal breathing routine.
Neither of the two lovers spoke for a moment in fear of ruining the moment before Anne gently spoke up.
“Why don’t we head back to bed? It’s late.”
Anne asked gently, caressing her partner’s hair. Marcy only nodded in response.
“Yeah..”
They mumbled, sighing as they heard the sound of Anne’s comforting heartbeat against their ears. Anne loved them, she really did. And they loved her too.