Work Text:
Sasha Waybright had changed drastically since Amphibia, that much was clear, but with this new-found redemption came bucket loads of guilt and regret which she was forever being reminded of by the scars it had left her with. The ones which held the most were, unfortunately for Sasha, also the largest and most visible. The one on her cheek, still sticking out in its ugly pink colour against her pale skin even after all these years, and the one on her back. It was a large, thick, rugged white strip running the length of her back still resolutely standing out from under the heron tattoo she had desperately tried to shield it with.
Sasha had known from the moment she woke up that today was not going to be good. It had started with her waking up at almost midday and struggling to pull herself put of bed, something that had not happened to her since the time shortly after returning from Amphibia when she was at her very lowest, then she remembered, scowling as she did so, that it was a Tuesday and so she would be alone until the evening as it was the day on which Marcy had to go in to see how her creative team were doing in person.
She dragged herself to the kitchen and traipsed over to the cupboard which would usually contain her breakfast, or lunch on this occasion, of choice, cereal. Upon opening it, however, she was left face-to-face with an empty space. Fuck. This would not usually be an issue for Sasha as she would be happy to just have coffee, but today, so much felt like it was wrong that being out of the food she had expected and wanted to have was just too much.
Her hand was throbbing but she was not sure why, although upon further inspection of her surroundings she was confident to assume that the whole in the cupboard door which had not been there before was the cause. There was blood dripping from her cracked and bruised knuckles which she knew she should be bandaging yet she could not move. A small amount of blood splattered onto the linoleum floor of their kitchen. Sasha could only watch, standing there shaking and breathing unusually heavily. She willed herself to move. She knew she should be cleaning the floor and fixing both the door and her hand before Anne got home at two but she simply could not, overwhelmed by anger which mixed with the pain she was in, all she could do was shout. She shouted at the cabinets and at the blood and at the lack of cereal and when she had finished she simply cried.
Now sinking to the floor, Sasha berated herself for such a stupid, brutish outburst. It was just like something her younger self would do. Getting angry over something that small and insignificant and then hurting the people she cared about. She knew it was pathetic, there had been no cereal and now she was shaking and sobbing on the kitchen floor, vaguely aware of her hands tugging at the roots of her hair and surrounded by drops of her own blood and broken pieces of wood. In her mind this was very much deserved considering how she had just let her emotions consume her which she swore she would never do again.
Eventually a new worry clouded her mind. She had no idea whether she had been there for a few minutes or several hours but she felt it was reasonable to assume Anne would be returning shortly. Shit. She simply could not have Anne return home only to be met with the sorry sight that was a broken cupboard, a bloodied hand and Sasha having a mental breakdown on the floor. What Sasha felt she should be doing in a situation such as this was immediately cleaning everything up so not a trace of her outburst remained, but she couldn’t. She could only focus on how the scar on her back was pressing against a cabinet and she could feel all her bones rattling as she shivered violently.
Her knees were now up to her chest and in an attempt at shielding her supposed weakness from the world, she drew her arms over her face, but in that fateful movement, the heel of her hand dragged over the thin line on her cheek and caused a shudder to force its way down her spine and for her to, on instinct, physically recoil. This was the last straw for Sasha. Her brain was screaming at her to stay calm and stop being such a self-centred prick, this was overwhelming her and riddling her mind with guilt, and yet it could not stop the fury at herself she was feeling in that moment.
Her hands which had previously been lightly twisting the roots of her hair were now yanking on it, tugging out clumps of thick blonde locks, re-opening the wound on her knuckles with each clench of the fist. Her feet moved from being balled beneath her to stretching out and kicking the cupboard opposite her, opening the whole she had made earlier up even further. Tears poured in undignified streams down her cheeks as she clenched her eyes shut.
With every kick at the cabinet and tug of her hair she yelled through her already hoarse voice,
‘Selfish! Selfish selfish selfish selfish selfish!!!’
Her tone became more and more frantic with each utterance until it sounded more like an incoherent stream of sounds made by a wounded animal.
In the state she was in, Sasha did not notice the quiet clicking of a lock signifying Anne’s return, Anne however, noticed Sasha.
Her day had been quite pleasant, although tiring, as one of the newt’s eggs had hatched, and Anne was looking forward to returning home and watching something with Sasha as they drank tea and ate biscuits together but even as she approached the apartment door something felt off. At first she brushed this notion off as exhaustion, but when she opened the door and heard sobbing and several bangs her former worries were confirmed.
She immediately sprinted down the hall, throwing her bag to the side as she did so, and skidded round the corner. It was not a pretty sight which greeted her there. Sasha was curled in a ball against the kitchen side, rocking back and forth and sobbing, hand, concerningly bloodied, pulling out chunks of her hair and feet kicking at a cabined door with a large whole in.
Anne, despite this not being her first time seeing Sasha like this, was unsure of what to do. She knew the blonde had a habit of letting things get to her and a lack of any kind of emotional control, but she had not seen anything this bad in at least a year. She cautiously approached and sunk down beside her, hesitating as she decided what to say.
‘May I touch you?’ Was eventually what she settled on. Sasha was almost always in need of some comfort however also a very touch-averse person, so this seemed appropriate.
Despite finding herself physically unable to push a single word out anymore, Sasha wanted a hug more than anything and needed Anne to know it, so in a desperate push for affection she flung herself and the brunette and clung to her as if she were the last thing on earth because in that moment, it felt like she was.
Anne was taken aback but collected herself and hugged back tightly very fast. The two stayed in the embrace for what felt like an eternity, Sasha hyperventilating and sobbing into Annes shoulder and Anne rubbing circles on her back and gently trying to get her breathing to even out.
By the time Sasha was calm enough to stop her crying it was dark outside and they had been sitting there on the kitchen floor for well over an hour. She looked up at Anne, her every puffy and red and glossed over with tears.
‘I’m sorry…’
‘What..?’
‘I’m sorry for ruining everything’
At this Anne could only just catch herself before she audibly sighed. Of course Sasha would think that.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Anne was quick to reassure, ‘this hasn’t changed anything you know. We all have our issues and they just present themselves in different ways for each of us. That’s all.’
At this Sasha immediately began to cry again and Anne recoiled, worried that she had said something wrong. Evidently this showed on her face as Sasha once again pulled her close and leant into her.
‘Thank you.’ She muttered into Anne’s hair.
Anne grinned at this and helped Sasha to stand, supporting her as she swayed on the spot, and then walking the pair over to the sofa where they both collapsed.
‘Come on.’ Said Anne, ‘Lets watch something fun like, I don’t know, Brooklyn Nine Nine?’
Sasha perked up at hearing her favourite show suggested, but her face then quickly fell again as she directed it to the frankly quite fucked up kitchen.
‘But really I should be cleaning that because Marcy will be back soon and-‘ Anne cut her off.
‘No. We can worry about that later. Right now I just want you to be happy and safe.’
She quickly went to fetch some disinfectant and a bandage and then carefully patched up the strength holder’s hand as the two watched the cop show, before pulling her close and wrapping her arms around her middle, awaiting Marcy’s return so the three could all be together again.