i don’t know how i answered the ask early, i’m on pc and clicking enter should put me to the next line. but ANYWAYS. long-ish drabble after the cut
The smoke is heavy when Anne falls to the ground. Her breath is heavy and her body is scraped all over. She can hardly stay conscious, and the familiar blue static is swimming in her vision.
She feels familiar hands on her, holding her up. She smiles weakly down at the Plantars, whose hands anchor her to this world.
“We’ve got you, Anne,” Sprig says.
The sky is dark with ash and also killer robots. It was too early to use her power. Anne needs to hold on. Needs to get up to the ship and find the girl inside. If she’s even still there.
“Behind you!” A familiar voice pierces the air, and Anne’s eyes snap wide open. Her legs are shaking but somehow they follow her command and she is racing towards the noise.
“Good catch, Lieutenant!” another voice says.
“It was only a couple robots, Grimesey,” the first voice says. “This is a breeze-”
Anne rounds the corner, and Sasha Waybright’s words fizzle out in her breath.
She looks like a mess, covered in soot and grime. Her hair is unruly and multi-toned, her roots slightly darker than they used to be. Her armor is scarred, a cross on the left side of her chest. Both hands hold swords.
That’s not what Anne notices, though. All Anne can see is how her jaw drops and tears shimmer like diamonds. How her entire body stiffens and all the robots and war disappear from around them.
“Anne,” she breathes.
Anne wants to run towards her and tackle her, and in her heart that’s what she does. But her energy is sapped, so she limps slowly towards Sasha.
“I am so sorry,” she says, and she holds her hands in front of her, a barrier. “For everything. For how I’ve treated you, for what I’ve done to you. For what I did to Marcy.”
Her words sit heavy in Anne’s chest. Because there Sasha is, and she’s here and she’s real. Anne remembers how she felt when Hop Pop hid the music box, and somehow this is different.
It all felt so childish. Little games to distract from the bigger thing. Anne misses Sasha too much to hate her.
So Anne throws her arms around her, tugging her close enough to muffle her tears in her shoulder. The swords clatter to the floor, and Sasha’s shoulders shake violently. Anne just holds tight. The warmth of her skin and ragged rhythm of her breath means she’s real.
“I understand if you don’t want to be friends with me,” she says. “If I were you, I would hate me, too.”
“I never hated you, Sasha.”
Sasha quivers in her hold, but her arms finally wrap around Anne’s, pulling her closer.
“Don’t let me go.” Sasha’s request is so soft, it is almost lost to the wind.
“I won’t,” Anne says. “Not ever again.”