Don't Die

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tw: major gore? mention of death, angst (here there is your politically correct author UwU)

MARCY'S POV

Marcy blinks a few time. The world slowly returns back to life around them as they stop spinning around. They place both their feet on the ground, panting.

Their head's hurting, their chest raising up and down way too fast. They place a hand over the heart to calm down the heartbeat. The suit is dirty of blood and dust.

They can barely remember what happened, it all felt like a dream. Marcy feels a shiver crossing their back, they rubs both their arms to feel warm again.

-Anne?- They call with their trembling voice. They feel another strong hint of pain in the chest. The memories return back with the strength of a river, hitting their brain.

Marcy grabs their head and groans out loud for the pain. They remember the pink liquid, the core, all the things they've done...Darcy. Now they remember all. They remember the blood on their suit, the shadow in their adversary's eyes. Marcy flinches. A deep sensation of panic starts making its way inside their body.

They can feel the anger, the fear, the panic as they turn behind to Anne, folded on the ground. Under her tiny, immobile body there's a puddle of dark, dense blood. The puddle is growing and growing.

Marcy can't feel their tongue, it's useless trying to talk. They simply can't, the consciousness of being responsible is dominating them. It's all your fault, something whispers inside them.

Marcy sobs but no tears fall from their eyes as they start walking to Anne. They can't even think about that word, Anne must be still with them. She must be alive.

You hurt your own friend, the voice goes on inside Marcy's head. They fell on their knees, near Anne. They feel in trance, are they still dreaming? Why's the world moving so slow around them? They can't hear anymore the noises of the battle under them.

-Anne.- Marcy whispers. They almost taste in their mouth the sound of that world. The name that, Marcy realises it only now, has been their entire world since they met.

Marcy can only hold tight on that name, cuddling on it, hoping everything will be fine.

-Anne...? They repeat again and the sweet taste of those four letters mixes inside their mouth with the bitter of the realisation.

-Anne, don't... don't.- Marcy bends over Anne's body, talking slowly. They feel so bad they can't even cry. With their tiny, weak, fragile arms they hug Anne's back. The blood flows on them too, dirtying the black suit.

Marcy places Anne's head against their chest, caressing her curly hair with one hand. They hug her tight, feeling her cold body pressed on the cold metal.

-Anne stay with me. Stay. Please.- Marcy whispers. All they can do is begging. The sweet taste of Anne's name is fading away inside their mouth. They can't feel the warmth caused by her presence anymore.

Marcy closes their eyes, tight, they want only to disappear with Anne. If she die, they die too.

-Anne.- They say again, eyes closed, trying to have back the comforting sensation of being safe around Anne. It's not fair. Marcy didn't have the time to say all the things they wanted. They didn't even find the right song for them two. Now it's useless. Marcy's alone.

-No, Anne, don't go. Don't. Stay.- Marcy's slowly forgetting even how to talk. There's no reason anymore to speak. Anne's not there to listen.

Marcy places one hand on Anne's heart, leaving her curly hair.

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