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"Marcy? Oh my god–Marcy ok–hold on, we can–I can fix this just…just stay with me Mar-mar please–oh god." Sasha held her best friend in her arms, green blood beginning to drench her hands, her armour, and the floor beneath them.
Miraculously the girl in her arms opened her eyes, a clarity shining in them that began to quickly fade. "Sashy…it's gonna be ok…" Somehow she found the strength to lift her hand to Sasha's face. Stroking her cheek, she accidentally smeared some of her own blood there.
Tears began streaming from Sasha's eyes as she held Marcy's hand to her face. Marcy knew she didn't have much time.
"Sash…" her strength was fading. She needed to keep her voice quiet and save her energy if she was going to say what she needed to tell Sasha. "...I need to tell you something important…"
Desperately keeping herself together for Marcy's sake, and to not miss what very well could be her last words, Sasha nodded and pressed her forehead against the other girl's. "I'm listening Mar-mar…I promise I'm listening now."
For what felt like the hundredth time, Sasha tried buttoning her shirt. Her hands shook–they always shook–and it made what should've been a simple task frustratingly difficult.
"Fuck, c'mon just relax, it's just Anne." Sasha thought to herself. The thought didn't comfort her. There was no concept of 'just' Anne anymore.
10 years of not speaking to each other. 10 years of agonizing over the guilt of what she did. 10 years after Anne had cut all ties after they stepped through the portal back from Amphibia.
"Hey, Sasha? It's totally reasonable for you to be anxious, alright?" The girl reflected in the mirror comforted her, responding to Sasha's fears as if she could read her thoughts. "But you need to breathe , it's gonna be ok."
Sasha made eye contact with the other girl through the reflection; one brown eye and one blue meeting with Marcy’s own brown ones. The years had been kinder to Marcy. She was so much more confident, more outgoing, much healthier than she had been 10 years ago. Her hair was longer now–she had always wanted it long. Her outfit was casual, with a jacket covered in pins of her favourite characters to complete the look.
"Mars, the last time we talked she told me she never wanted to see me again." Sasha sighed as she gave up buttoning her shirt and turned to face the girl currently lounging on her bed. She didn't have to worry about modesty around Marcy. Not anymore–after all it was nothing she hadn't seen before.
"People can change over the course of a decade, Sashy," Marcy said as she stood from the bed and walked over to Sasha. Taking Sasha's hands she guided them, helping her button up the shirt as she continued talking, "I mean, she texted you asking you to meet up."
Sasha scoffed, an empty sound long since drained of the sarcasm of her youth, "She probably just wants to see you ."
"And would Anne from 10 years ago have even asked to see me?" Marcy questioned, picking apart Sasha's self-loathing induced argument. "Besides the last time I talked to her about you she seemed to be coming around!"
"I…guess." Sasha conceded the point but still hesitated to believe Anne really wanted to see her. And the hope that she would offer forgiveness? Completely out of the question. "Still, her choice of meeting location is kinda…telling, isn't it?"
"Sashy…it's the anniversary. Today is a lot for all of us." Marcy reached up and stroked Sasha's cheek; the one that 10 years ago was smeared with her blood and Sasha's tears. "I think commemorating it with you…talking to you, will give the closure that you both need."
Sasha didn't reply; she didn't need to speak for Marcy to know she wasn't holding out any hope.
The place Anne wanted to meet wasn't far; a 30 minute bus ride from Sasha's apartment. Still, Sasha lamented her lack of a car; it would've made the trip so much shorter…and the apprehension a lot more bearable.
"If I had a car…I think I'd want a bright red convertible." Sasha mused to herself, trying to distract herself from the mounting anxiety. She had always wanted to drive when she was younger. She pictured herself independent, at the age she was now, driving her and her girls around wherever they wanted. The broken relationships, perpetual tremor of her hands, and numerous triggers for her panic attacks had put an end to that dream.
Marcy, standing in front of her with her hands in her pockets, burst into laughter, breaking her from the spiral she was beginning to go down. "Oh my god, you'd be insufferable."
"I'd be hot!" Sasha smiled despite the bubbling pot in her chest as she defended herself from the jab.
"You would be hot…and insufferable," Marcy said before sticking her tongue out. Marcy was one of the few bright spots in her life. A constant beacon of love guiding her out of the storm. She resolved a long time ago that she would live for Marcy, if for nothing else.
Shaking those thoughts from her head before she began spiraling again Sasha realized she was about to miss their stop. She barely pulled the cord in time–with no small amount of help from Marcy–right as they approached it, causing the driver to slam on the breaks and everyone, except for Marcy, to lurch forward.
"Sorry," she said sheepishly as she got off the bus with Marcy in tow.
A small patch of green interrupted LA's urban sprawl. An oasis that served as a suitably peaceful spot to rest.
Sasha felt nauseous as she passed through the gates. She was an intruder, a disease invading a healthy body destined to ruin everything it touched. Still she had agreed to meet someone here, and no matter what that entailed, be it a renewed declaration of hatred or a punch to the face–both of which she well deserved–she at least owed it to her to show up. So she trekked onward, a prisoner marching towards the gallows.
She knew where Anne would be–where else would she be? There weren’t many other reasons for her to be here after all. Sure enough she found her there, wearing a beautiful blue and green dress, her hair down and flowing in the gentle breeze.
In front of her stood a gravestone. Small, but well maintained. The inscription on it was bilingual–English and Mandarin.
It still hurt Sasha to read it.
Marcy Regina Wu
2006-2020
Beloved daughter and cherished friend
Sasha was desperate.
Grime was down, arm severed, her cape acting as the only thing keeping him from bleeding out.
Cold steel sliced through the thick, humid air that reeked of blood, sweat, and fear. That thing–that amalgamation of all of Amphibia’s greatest minds and worst intentions–toyed with her, a glee that only intensified as she weakened. Even when she landed a hit–a small cut on their face–it only made them angrier. Tricks they had been holding back until now were fully on the table, ready to make her suffer. Swirling mist enveloped her as Darcy disappeared, replaced by illusions of her friends. Slashing at them in an attempt to stop their words, Sasha kept constant vigilance for when her true opponent would strike.
In another life, in another world, Sasha Waybright would’ve hesitated. The images of those dearest to her a distraction–enough to give Darcy the opening they needed. Her back would’ve been sliced and burned, leaving behind a massive scar–a permanent reminder of when she had saved Marcy. Her Marcy.
But Sasha, from the corner of her eye, saw the movement. That minute shift in the flow of the mist that heralded its master’s attack. Sasha was a soldier. A warrior. And so often in the heat of battle, warriors act before they think.
That was what Sasha told herself sometimes to make life bearable.
Steel met steel, then flesh, and steel again as her sword plunged through Darcy’s chest, emerging out the other side of them bathed in sickly green blood. For a brief moment elation filled Sasha before the realization of what she had just done dawned on her.
“You fool…” chuckled the Core as its last vestiges vacated Marcy, her body falling limp in Sasha’s arms as the helmet fell from her head.
At the sound of her approach–her hesitant trudging steps–the girl at the grave turned. Her expression remained neutral, which was more than Sasha could ask for. A look of contempt or disgust would've been far more appropriate.
"Sasha?" Anne asked, her voice as level as her face.
Sasha nodded in return before awkwardly saying, "Hey Anne…been a while."
Anne hummed in agreement as Sasha stood as far from her as possible while still being next to the grave. Anne had already placed some flowers, a bouquet of pink carnations, delicately placed at the foot of the stone. A long, lingering moment passed between them, Sasha’s discomfort growing and festering within her. Standing this close to Anne felt like sacrilege–a space she was unworthy to tread. With every passing second the voice that said you shouldn’t be here grew louder and louder, a klaxon declaring her trespass.
“I can’t believe it’s already been 10 years…” Anne’s voice, quiet, contemplative, suddenly cut through the noise in Sasha’s head. Her casual tone made Sasha’s stomach lurch. Why wasn’t she angry? She should be furious . They were only here, after all, because of Sasha’s own recklessness.
Bile rose in Sasha’s throat. She barely managed to swallow it down before she said, “Anne…why am I here? If…if you wanted to see Marcy I didn’t have to be here.”
The look Anne gave her only sickened Sasha further–an expression of pity mixed with guilt. Sasha didn’t deserve the pity; Anne had nothing to be guilty for.
Hence Sasha’s shock at Anne’s next words.
“Sasha…you’re here because I wanted to say…I’m sorry.”
In that moment a spring that had been winding inside Sasha–since the day Anne had texted her, since the day they came back from Amphibia, since the moment her sword had plunged through Marcy’s chest–came undone. As the energy of its recoil struck Sasha with the force of all her sins, what else could she do but shatter?
“You’re apologizing to me ? ” Sasha exploded for a moment before the rage turned inward, a black hole collapsing in on itself. “Anne I’m a fucking monster . You gave me so many chances and I fucked up. Every. Single. Time. You trusted me again and what did I do with that trust? I fucking killed Marcy .” If Sasha wasn’t aware of the tears in her eyes beforehand, her rapidly blurring vision helped her realize.
Anne looked conflicted as she stepped towards Sasha over Marcy’s grave. “Sasha…what you did was awful…and I know what I said in the past was harsh but I know better now. You didn’t mean to do it and you did everything you could to save her. I forgive you Sasha…I think I forgave you a long time ago and I’m so sorry it took me this long to say so.”
At this declaration Sasha only shook her head, “I don’t deserve forgiveness Anne. Just let me go.” Sasha turned to leave and began walking away, intent on fulfilling Anne’s decade old request, until Anne called out one last thing to her.
“Sasha, please. Let me talk to Marcy.”
And Sasha, monster that she was, could never deny Anne that request. She had already taken Marcy away from her once. There was no way she would ever do so again.
She turned to face Anne and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she opened them again, two brown eyes met Anne’s own. She immediately rushed forward, enveloping Anne in a tight hug as the other girl cried into her chest.
“It’s alright Anna-Banana, we’ll figure this out.”
Sasha didn’t have much time.
4 minutes.
That was all the time she had the moment Marcy stopped breathing.
That had been a minute ago.
Marcy had held on as long as she could. Until her last breath she had comforted Sasha as she carried her to their destination, telling her everything would be fine. Sasha wished she was still telling her that now.
Marcy’s instructions had been clear, in spite of her actively dying as she relayed them to Sasha. Bring the helmet, get to the throne room, pull the coral sconce to open the secret door, follow the stairs all the way down until she got to the room with the giant deactivated Core robot. Rearrange certain wires and attach the helmet to a certain machine. Then, place the helmet on Marcy’s head and hit upload.
“Then the hard part is done, I’ll be uploaded to an isolated database, seperate from the Core” she had said, each breath shallower than the last, green beginning to leak from the corners of her mouth, “but then I need to ask you a huge favour…I don’t wanna be alone, stuck in a machine forever. If you put the helmet on and press transfer…I can hang out in your head with you. Would…you be ok with that?”
And of course Sasha had said yes. How could she abandon the girl she had just killed and leave her to spend the rest of eternity alone? While the experience was…unpleasant, the shocks from the helmet leaving her convulsing on the floor until the process was over, Sasha knew it was worth it as soon as she took the helmet off.
Standing over her, dressed in her old Newtopian Night Guard uniform, was none other than Marcy Wu.
“AAHHHH Sasha Sasha Sasha SASHA! It worked!” Marcy joined her on the ground, enveloping her in a hug. And she could feel her. It was as if Marcy was with her in the flesh and not…
Sasha looked over at Marcy’s body, still slumped on the ground, leaning against the machine that had just, in a way, saved her life. Guilt overtook her. She had still killed Marcy. She had killed Marcy .
“Sashy! Don’t think like that!” Marcy grabbed her by the shoulders, tearing her focus away from…Marcy. “I’m alive ok? I’m alive because of you .” Sasha could only nod in response. For now that was enough for her. It had to be.
Unfortunately it wasn’t enough for Anne.
She had been frantically searching the castle for them, their disappearance from the shield generator room a source of panic for everyone. She found them in the throne room, the place of Sasha’s last betrayal, Sasha holding Marcy’s lifeless body, her pink sword still lodged in her chest.
For a long time all Anne could say was, “What did you do!? ” all while cradling Marcy’s corpse. Sasha’s explanation fell on deaf ears, a persistent blue glow filling Anne’s eyes whenever she approached her; the repetition of the phrase, “Give her back,” joined Anne’s mantra, a desperate prayer to the universe to undo what Sasha had done.
Then the castle returned to Amphibia and the moon began to fall. Duty to Amphibia ended up being the one thing that could tear Anne from Marcy’s side. She used the stones right on the balcony of the castle, turning the moon to dust before joining it soon after. When she came back, everyone, including Sasha and Marcy, celebrated, relieved that the savior of Amphibia had returned to them.
Anne only looked over guiltily at the still cold corpse of her first friend.
Not once did she acknowledge Sasha.
Only when Amphibia was lost to them forever, the final portal closing behind them, Marcy’s body still cradled in Anne’s arms, did she say anything to Sasha.
“I never want to see you again.”
Sasha came-to on the bus back to her apartment. It was late. The sun had long since set and the dim blue night lighting of the bus cast its glow on her. Even though she didn’t need to sit, Marcy was seated next to her, leaning her head on Sasha’s shoulder.
“Good morning,” Marcy said gently.
Sasha only grunted in response. Still, she did feel a bit better in spite of the recent interaction with Anne. In all honesty she enjoyed letting Marcy take the driver's seat while she just faded to black–something she had always done whenever Marcy was with Anne. It was calming, cathartic. Sometimes she wondered if she just never came back…
"SASHA. You know I can hear that." Marcy rarely used such a harsh tone, reserved for the few instances whenever Sasha's thoughts went too dark.
"Sorry Mars," Sasha muttered sheepishly, guilt gnawing at her. "You know I'd never do anything though, right? I gotta keep you safe."
Sasha gave Marcy's arm a light punch–an attempt at playfulness that completely deflated as soon as she saw Marcy's face.
She was pissed . More than that Sasha could feel something else underlying her anger.
"Sasha. I'm not worried about myself. I'm worried about you . Anne is too–don't you fucking start that self-deprecating shit Waybright I'm talking."
Sasha immediately shut her mouth, the rebuttal that she didn't deserve Anne's concern dying on her lips. She felt her emotions and Marcy's beginning to tangle, the barrier that they usually maintained between themselves being relaxed.
"I just…I don't understand Sasha. There she was giving you everything you ever wanted. She forgave you outright! Why…" Sasha didn't need to speak, her emotions crossing the now more permeable barrier between them. Forgiveness–second and third chances. That was for people who deserved it. People who didn't fumble it immediately.
People who didn't kill their friends.
Marcy guided Sasha's hand once more to the bus cord. As they exited the bus and began walking to their apartment, Marcy continued, "Sasha, what you did was in the heat of battle. You were scared, outclassed, and fighting for your life–and if you hadn't stopped Darcy who knows what they would've done. I probably wouldn't even be here! Yeah maybe you could've done stuff differently, but you can't expect perfection from yourself."
Marcy stopped, grabbing both of Sasha's hands as they stood underneath a streetlight–the warm yellow glow making Marcy look angelic. "Sasha I forgave you when you carried me through the castle halls, doing everything you could to save me. And Anne…as soon as she found out the truth–that you saved me, let me share your mind–I think she forgave you then too."
At these words Sasha felt her heart lighten. She wasn't sure if they were Marcy's emotions or hers at that moment, but the feeling soothed her all the same. Still, doubt lingered, a rut carved into the pathways of her mind, a constant reminder of her lack of worth. "Why did it take her so long to say so then?"
"Because she feels guilty too, Sash." This simple truth–and she knew it was truth with the barriers down between them–that simple truth sent shockwaves down to Sasha's core.
"Sasha…she knows how hard the past 10 years have been on you…and in a lot of ways she feels like that's her fault. She wants to make things right, but she can't do that if you refuse to accept her forgiveness–and she does forgive you Sashy. But I think…I think you need to learn to forgive yourself."
The logistics of hugging Marcy meant she couldn't lean on her for support, but if she could've, Sasha would've collapsed in Marcy's arms. "I've hated myself for so long…I don't know how."
"I know Sashy, trust me I know," Marcy reassured her friend, allowing her feelings to cross the barrier, wrapping Sasha's pain in her feelings of comfort. "But you're not alone, alright? You have me…and you have Anne now too."
Sasha's doubt still lingered, the inescapable pit she had dug for herself was a void 10 years in the making. But for the first time since she was a child she thought that, just maybe, she could begin the climb out.
Sasha's hands shook–they always shook–as she stood in front of a door she never dared to believe she would ever knock on.
"Hey Sashy, it's ok. Here, let me help." Marcy's hand guided her own, a gentle embrace she had felt countless times before. With Marcy's help her hand steadied, allowing her to give three firm knocks.
Anne looked puzzled when she opened the door and saw the girl before her. "Marcy? I didn't know you were stopping by–" Her words halted as soon as she saw her eyes. Two brown eyes met one brown, one blue. "Sasha?"
"Hey Anne, good to see ya."