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She went to bed early.
Sleep hadn’t been in her priorities for a while and she thought that it was time to change that. There was no room for exhaustion-induced hallucinations on the battlefield, and after a particularly rough morning consisting of shadow figures standing menacingly in the corners of her vision, she decided to go to bed early. She mumbled out an excuse to Grime, something about self care, who then waved her off urgently after a tight squeeze of her hand. He almost seemed excited to get her away from the field, something Sasha avoided thinking about on the way to the Plantar’s house.
A sweet sort of syrup from Maddie made it easy to fall asleep. It was gifted to her when the revolution started picking up speed and the bags beneath her eyes turned black. At first she refused to take it — she was fine and repeated it endlessly to try to reassure her, although at some point it turned into her trying to convince herself rather than Maddie — but when Grime wordlessly slid it across the table during dinner, she bit the bullet and kept it in the bathroom cabinet for emergencies.
The syrup made her fall asleep quicker, but the main reason she took it was for her nightmares. It took away all of her dreams, or she didn’t remember them, at the very least. When she asked Maddie about it, the girl shrugged and said she didn’t know that could happen, waving it off as a symptom due to biological differences.
Maybe she shouldn’t have doubled the dose. Regardless, it was the first time she had dreamt in a long while. It was a weird feeling. Like she wasn’t welcome even though she herself conjured the space.
She was on a bench. Looking out into gray hazy nothing.
Marcy was there. Sitting right next to her with a big shining smile on her face, rambling about some sort of evolution thing. The hollowness in her chest filled with warmth and relief and affection.
It was the fucking worst.
She missed Marcy so much it her twisted the marrow of her bones and threatened to pop her heart. Seeing her act like nothing had happened was like balm on a burn.
“ – and I found out that the reason why the bugs here are so big is because of the oxygen levels! Although I can’t really figure out what the deal with amphibians is, it's definitely – ”
“Marcy?”
She stopped, “What?”
Her brown eyes sparkled like they usually did when she was ranting. Sasha didn’t want to wake up.
“Can I have your barrette?”
Confusion made her brows furrow but she still unclipped it. She shook out her hair and tucked it behind her ear. Her fingers were warm as they pressed into her palm, and right before they left, Sasha grabbed her hand.
It was slightly uncomfortable, the barrette was clunky and so was the way their fingers folded, but Marcy caught on and straightened them out while looking at her concerned.
“Why do you want it?”
Sasha didn’t trust her voice. There was a lump in her throat and she was tired of crying in front of the people she had to be strong for. She tugged Marcy by her hand until half of her was practically in her lap. She waited a few moments before hesitantly placing her hands on her back, her face wrinkling at the warmth.
It felt so fucking real.
Sasha was suddenly scared that Marcy would be ripped from her hands like how she ripped her own from Marcy’s in Andrias’ castle.
A few more seconds passed before she inevitably gave in, snaking her arms around her body and squeezing tight.
It was nicer than she was comfortable admitting. It had been so long since she felt another warm and dry body. And it was her.
Her chest expanded with every breath and she could feel puffs of it hit her neck. There was a give to her that warned her to not squeeze too hard. She was humming some tune from a video game and Sasha could feel the vibration travel from her body to her own. Sometimes her fingers twitched against her shirt and tapped out slow rhythms in time to her humming.
It was her. A dream version, but it was her.
She buried her face into Marcy’s shoulder as her own shook uncontrollably. They slowly melted into each other and their breaths synced, Sasha’s shaky and wavering, Marcy’s calm and guiding.
She really didn’t want to wake up. It was tugging at her softly, carefully fading them apart. She curled further into Marcy’s neck, her hands hopelessly trying to tangle themselves into her cape so she would never ever lose her again, the barrette digging into her palm.
“So, how’s it going?”
Sasha whimpered and laughed.
She knew that this dumb dream was going to be burned into her memory forever.
“I’m . . . I don’t know.”
“Sash?”
It took everything in her to not blurt out apology after useless sniveling apology. To not fall on her knees to beg for forgiveness for everything she had ever done wrong like a good God-fearing man. To not cry out and wail about how much every part of her ached. To not scream that she was doing it all for them. To not.
“Yeah?” She asked, her voice muffled and warbly.
“What’s going on?”
The question made her tremble harder. She curled her fists into Marcy’s cape and took a breath to steady herself. Marcy smelled like sweat and dirt and citrus and Sasha wanted to make a candle, a perfume, an air freshener, a something out of it so she never forgot. She never wanted to wake up.
“I missed you. It’s been.” The smell of burning came and went, “A while.”
Marcy hummed and patted her back a few times, nodding in understanding. She hesitated in her next words, and Sasha felt her open and close her mouth a few times. Her heart dropped to her stomach in anticipation, her body tense and ready to flinch.
“Sasha?”
“Yes, Marcy?” She asked quietly. A mutter of a murmur. Any louder and she was scared she was going to fall apart for good.
“Are we all you want?”
Yes.
It was automatic. Thoughtless. It bounced in her skull, loud and repentant. Heedless.
And Christ forgive her but a part of her longed for the ignorance for when she didn’t know Anne and Marcy were what she wanted. For when she thought about them like how people thought about the things they needed to do. Constant and linear. Controlling and tiring.
Marcy pulled her in closer and played with the short hairs on the back of her neck. It sent pleasant shivers down her back.
It was simpler to think like that. To think that she had her dues and they had theirs.
Because otherwise, she was faced with the fact that their love wasn’t conditional. That she didn’t have to spend year after year carving her niche into rock with sore blistered fingers. And it fucked her up even more to realize that she would do it all again regardless because her love was just as unwavering as theirs, reciprocated or not.
“I don’t know how to answer that,” she lied, so thick and so blatant she knew Marcy knew.
She just chuckled stiffly, “Uh huh.”
Sasha rolled her neck and rested her forehead on Marcy’s shoulder, “I just think I wished I changed more.”
Marcy whispered, “To where you’d forget us?”
“No but to where I don’t need you and Anne,” Sasha said, savoring the words on her tongue.
Marcy’s breath shook and Sasha wasn’t really sure if it was warranted. It wouldn’t kill her to be a bit less dependent. To be less selfish.
“You guys aren’t even here. I don’t see the point in saying it.”
She wasn’t exactly ready for it though, being less dependent on the girls who ruled every one of her childhood choices. She wasn’t even ready to swallow the fact that Anne and Marcy had achieved things without any of her input on them. She was being left behind to be nothing but a faded memory. Like a sun bleached toy.
She wanted to be what they talked about. She wanted to be who they reached their goals for. She wanted to be the person shaped hole in their chests. She wanted to be what they spent the rest of their lives looking for. She wanted to be wanted like how she wanted them: possessive and controlling like what she was trying to rid herself of.
“Would you rather that Anne be here, too?”
And she and Anne would never know how she felt like she was made for them. How she was finally proving it, painstakingly relaxing her iron grip from the reins, slowly wiggling her overgrown nails out of the flesh of her palm, stretching out each creaking joint until it popped.
“No. No it’s fine, I just. Give me a second.”
Sasha swallowed thickly and rubbed her snotty nose on Marcy’s cape with a weak smile. It felt soft, and Marcy groaned and chuckled, holding and pressing her shoulders away so they could face each other.
Her eyes were going to be the death of her, she thought. Bright and so earnest. Cheeks as full and soft as July peaches. Sasha tried her best to keep her sobs at bay, laughing breathlessly with a best friend she needed more than she needed herself.
Nothing was fair but this personal crime had to be the most cruel and unjust.
Marcy grabbed her wrist. Sasha didn’t need to be told to open her fist. She picked up the barrette and touched Sasha’s face with her free hand, turning her head towards the floor so she could position it right. It clipped on with some pressure and a short snap, and then her hand slipped down to her cheek, cradling it. Sasha leaned into its warmth. The other found Sasha’s hand and squeezed it encouragingly.
Marcy looked down for a moment, curling into herself for a short second before meeting Sasha’s eyes again. A sudden pain shocked her heart and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold out.
“Tell me I'm all you want. Please.”
Sasha never ever wanted to wake up.
She choked and let the dam break, hoping her tears could repay the debt of yearning for someone she loved yet hated. For someone she should’ve been better to. For someone she shouldn’t have left. For someone who would never come back. For thinking that it should’ve been her but knowing that she wouldn’t have had the guts.
Her voice was choppy and almost unintelligible, her cries full and interrupted by exhausting blubbers that made her face blotchy. Snot dripped from her nose onto her pants and some of it got into her mouth, thin and watery.
Marcy paid it no mind as she wiped her tears.
It felt so fucking real.
“You are always who I want, Marcy.”