#pyro.fic

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.

There's something haunting about being in the Newtopian castle as it crashes to the ground.

Marcy. Marcy's the something that's haunting. Because that's what ghosts do: they haunt.

Anne would've laughed at that. If she were here. But no, Anne is somewhere else. Marcy hopes she got home, hopes that the portal worked. She can't imagine any place worse than where she is.

Sasha wouldn't have laughed. Marcy knows this because she is looking at Sasha right now and Sasha is not laughing. Her friend is slumped on the ground and there's blood dripping from the now-reopened scar on her cheek. It's hard to laugh when you're like that.

Only Grime is awake. He's looking right at Marcy- no, right through her. He can't see her.

And why would he see her? All he needs to see is the corpse behind Marcy, the thing that she can't bring herself to look at: her own body.

The tower almost crash-lands. But suddenly he's there, this mass of blue, and his tail nearly slices through Marcy. But she- well, she doesn't run, she can't run. It's more like she tries to exist where he isn't, and suddenly she's there. As if her body were made of a million particles that all rearranged themselves.

Marcy studies her hand as he studies her body. Her fingers are translucent green, and she can see the marble floor through it. She would have never thought that ghosts would be green. Maybe it's linked to Anne; she charged the green gem in the temple, and Anne charged the blue gem, and now Anne is some blue superhero.

Which was froggin' cool, in case you were wondering. Marcy didn't see much of it, only Anne levitating onto the floor like some sort of anime protagonist. He was reduced to a pile of rubble on the ground, and Marcy almost thought Anne had defeated him, for one beautiful moment.

Anyways, Marcy's hand. She wiggles her fingers back and forth and they sort of glitch into place. She doesn't know if she's moving so much as teleporting each of her particles. Or maybe this isn't even real and she's projecting her consciousness outside her body. Maybe this is all in her head.

Marcy's new to being a ghost. She's not sure how all this works.

He picks up her body and Marcy can feel it. Not directly- his touch is like a thousand fire ants crawling on her skin. She tries to rub her back, where her body is being cradled, but her ghostly hand doesn't do anything.

Then he is gone, and Marcy is alone again.

She stays there for a while. Where else is there to go? She would follow her body, but...no, she can't do that. Her body is gone from this place, but Marcy is still here, still hovering right over the spot where she was st-

Staring! That's what Sasha is doing: directly at Marcy.

She's awake, at least.

Sasha blinks again, then rubs her eyes. She's still staring in Marcy's direction. Marcy looks behind her, to see what Sasha's looking at. All she can see is the empty space where her body was, and the slight scorch mark from the portal.

"So." Grime stands next to Sasha, who's sitting on the cracked marble floor. "That was...an event."

Sasha blinks again, then shakes her head and looks away. "Yeah. It was something." She sighs, then stands. "I really need to get outta here."

"Wait!" Marcy shouts, without thinking. Which is stupid, because no one can even hear her. She's dead and this isn't even real.

Except Sasha stiffens.

Turns around.

And looks Marcy straight in the eyes.

Marcy immediately averts her gaze; eye contact is hard. But soon her eyes find Sasha again, and Sasha looks like she's seen a ghost.

"This has got to be a hallucination," Sasha says. "I- Grime, do you see anything- or, uh, anyone there?"

That's enough of a cue for Marcy. She phases in front of Sasha, who stumbles back in surprise. "Sasha! You can still see me?"

"Uh, of course I can," she stammers, "but you're-"

"Going to be accompanying you for the rest of our time here?" Marcy finishes Sasha's question. "Of course I am! You saw A-, uh, you saw him take my, uh...anyways! We've got some places to go, right? Can't keep a weird despot king in power forever." She trails off with a nervous laugh.

The corners of Sasha's mouth tug upwards. Marcy's breaking her stoic demeanor a bit, which means she can finally breathe.

"Yeah," Sasha says. "We've got a revolution to refuel."

"Oh!" Marcy says. "That reminds me. If you're going to Wartwood, we should stop by Maddie Flour's house. She's really sweet, and cool, and we hung out for like an entire day when I was staying in Wartwood..."

Sasha sighs. "We've got limited time, Marcy. We have to hurry if we ever want to see Anne again."

"Oh!" Marcy adds, "and Maddie knows how to resurrect the dead."

Sasha stares at her, openmouthed.

"What?" Marcy asks.

Sasha inhales. "Why didn't you lead with that?"

"Well, it's the most important part," Marcy said, "and everyone knows that you should end with the most important part to have maximum effect..."

"We're going to Maddie Flour's, then," Sasha says. "Come on."