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Blue light shone off shattered glass and pooling fluid, cold and clear. Anne could still feel its power surging through her, her heart pounding and her hair alive with the energy of the Calamity Box. It should have faded by now; Andrias was defeated, the Night gone, their invasion postponed forever, but still the power lingered. And Anne already knew why.
The power came to her when she was worried about her loved ones; when Andrias had taken Sprig, when his invasion threatened her family, and now, when she was crouched over the unconscious, fragile form of her closest friend in the depths of the king’s deactivated castle.
She’d set Marcy down just beyond the wreckage of the machine she’d been kept in. But every time she closed her eyes she could still see it; her friend and maybe more sealed in a tank, floating in bluish fluid, hooked up to all kinds of tubes and wires and monitoring machines. Now that tank was shattered, and the liquid drained, and the tubes all severed, and Anne didn’t even want to think about what they might have been doing to her.
A quiet groan snapped her attention back to the present, her breath catching in her throat as she saw Marcy move. The other girl’s face scrunched up in discomfort, her arms slowly reaching up to wrap around her body, and Anne could only watch and hope as slowly she pulled herself up into a kneeling position. Her eyes opened slowly, her gaze wide and unfocused beneath slick hair still dripping fluid.
“Anne?” she breathed, her voice like glass.
“It’s me, MarMar,” Anne whispered softly back, unable to keep the relief from her words. Because Marcy was hurt and afraid and weak, but she was alive and whole, and that was all that mattered.
“Where’s…” the other girl trailed off, looking slowly around the darkened room. Her grip on her arms tightened, shivers running through her body. “Where’s Andrias?”
“He’s gone,” Anne promised. Marcy opened her mouth again, but nothing came out, like the words were stuck in her throat, so Anne filled the empty space. “We beat him, MarMar; everyone’s safe and everything’s okay now.
“He had you in this, this machine, hooked up to all this weird stuff,” she gestured back at the shattered wreckage, her voice hitching as she went on. “I don’t know what he wanted to do to you, but we stopped it.” Her hands hesitated in the empty space between them, too afraid to reach out.
Marcy blinked; Anne felt her heart break as her eyes started to shine, tears welling up at whatever she was remembering.
“I don’t…” for a moment she struggled for the right words, shivering again. “It was cold, so cold; that’s all I remember after…” The unfinished implication hung heavy in cold air. Her breaths came shaky, her words heavy with pain and fear, and she shuddered as if that cold was still seeping through the grey bodysuit she was wearing.
And suddenly Anne remembered the jacket around her waist. She glanced down, her gaze falling on the familiar yellow fabric, sleeves tangled up and draped over her knees. It wasn’t hers; it belonged to Marcy, left behind at Anne’s house a few days before she’d stolen the box; and since she’d gotten home Anne had been wearing it to remind herself of the girl she loved the most.
It was a hope that Marcy had survived Andrias’ blade, a silent promise that she wouldn’t forget, that she would come back for her, that she forgave her for everything and still loved her. And now, Anne decided, it was time to fulfil that promise.
Marcy watched as she untied the knotted sleeves, then reached out, draping the soft fabric over the other girl’s shoulders. The yellow was bright, brighter than anything in that cold and dark place, and Marcy nestled gingerly into the offered warmth. One of Anne’s hands lingered on her shoulder, offering as much reassurance as she could.
At that, Marcy couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. They ran down her pained face, mixing with the damp falling from her hair. Her whole body heaved under the jacket, her face twisting with deep pain.
“I, I’m sorry, Anne,” she forced out, fighting back a sob. “I’m so sorry. I just… I didn’t wanna be alone, a-and I didn’t think, cause I-I never think I just-”
“Marcy,” Anne cut her off, her voice soft but firm “it’s okay.” She could feel herself welling up too, everything crashing down at once. “I’m not mad, and I mean that.”
“B-but it’s not okay!” Marcy choked out, shivering again under her jacket. “I took everything away from you! I ruined your life! I-I ruined all of our lives.” Her face fell, gaze turning down with a sniffle. “You don’t have to forgive me.”
“But I want to,” Anne replied softly, all of her feelings spilling out at once. “I know you wanted us to be together, to get away from your mom and dad and everything else, and I understand that. I never want to lose you again and I…”
She trailed off, feeling an impulse ignite in her mind. There was something else she wanted, needed to say, now that she had Marcy back and everything was going to be okay. So she leaned in; Marcy finally looked up again, fragile hope in her eyes and her hair and tear-tracks shining in the blue glow, and finally Anne could say it.
“I love you, MarMar.” A small smile crossed her face, borne on relief and hope and love. “I really do.”
“Anne, I…” Marcy trailed off, her words giving way to more shaky breaths, and suddenly she just shattered. Her face crumpled, a fresh wave of tears spilling out, and before Anne could say anything else she launched herself at the other girl.
Her arms wrapped desperately around Anne as it all gave way, her body heaving as the sobs came up. Anne shifted back onto her knees, gently embracing her in return; the hand on her shoulder slipped down onto her back, rubbing softly through the yellow fabric of her jacket, while the other held the back of her head as it fell against Anne’s shoulder.
For a moment they just stayed like that. Marcy let it all out in a river of pain and regret; the hurt, the trauma, the fears and self-doubts. And as she held her, Anne couldn’t stop herself from crying too, tears of hurt and relief running down her cheeks. And finally, with her sobs dying down to sniffles, Marcy forced out a few quiet words.
“I… I love you too, Anne,” she admitted quietly, squeezing the other girl tightly. “I don’t want to lose you either.”
“You won’t,” Anne found herself promising, squeezing her back, her voice a hopeful whisper. “We’ll go home together, and I won’t let anyone else hurt you, parents or not.” Marcy sniffed sharply at that, like couldn’t quite believe it. “You’re safe now.”
Marcy melted into the embrace at that, the desperate tension finally leaving her. In its place came warmth, and in that moment, swaddled in soft, comforting yellow and lit in pale, reassuring blue, home in the arms of the girl she loved, she finally let herself believe Anne’s words.
