And here it is folks, chapter five! Finally it all ends here, and on a happy note too!

The following two days went by in a blur. Most of it was wasted in further discussion; Sasha's plan had more holes than silk-worm cheese, and they needed to work out the kinks. There also went down to town two more times to buy rations, for them and for Joe Sparrow. That bird ate like a starved animal. They also lost two whole hours trying to patch Sasha's haircut into something not-vomit-inducing (it could've been done in 20 minutes, but Sasha had strong opinions about Grime's hairdressing skills). The result was unquestionable, however. Now Sasha was sporting a neat pixie haircut, and while it's true her hair was still in serious need of two liters of conditioner, it was an improvement from the butchering she'd done with her sword.

Compared to trying to tame Sasha's hair, packing up was easy. They'll have to travel light, for speed reason as much as for Joe's sake, so most of their stuff will stay behind.

It was noon and they were pretty much ready. The only thing left was for them to take heart to start this new life. Also, Joe Sparrow was being a bitch.

"Come on you stupid bird! Stay quiet." Grime pulled Joe's reins with all his strength, as Sasha approached Joe from behind with the new saddle in her arms.

The old one was badly damaged and torn apart. Joe's escape from Newtopia wasn't as slick as they'd first thought, if the burnt feathers on the bird's tail were a hint. Sasha and Grime had patched Joe up and he was ready to fly. He didn't complain when they put the reins on him, but started to throw a fuss when he saw the new saddle.

Joe was pulling back just as hard as Grime was pulling forward, making it impossible to keep him still.

"Any time now!" Grime demanded.

"I can't do it if you don't calm him down," Sasha replied. She was trying to latch the saddle to Joe's back but the bird wasn't having any of it.

Finally, Joe let out a shriek as he swung his neck left and right. Grime was dragged for the ride like bug on a vine, until he couldn't hold the reins any longer and was sent flying.

"Alright, you know what? Let's switch places," he said as he stood up from the mud pile he had landed over. "You calm him down, I'll put the saddle."

"Whatever you say", said Sasha.

They changed places, and for a minute Joe Sparrow was just as restless. Sasha, however, didn't pull the reins nor commanded him over. She stood completely still, never breaking eye contact with Joe. Slowly, the bird stopped flapping its wings.

"Good bird, easy does it," Sasha cooed at the bird and lifted a hand. "Now, sit."

She snapped her fingers and Joe Sparrow hit the floor. Grime jumped on its back and latched the saddle to Joe's body. Sasha rushed to tie it up to the bird's belly. Joe fought for a bit but eventually settled, just as tired as Grime and Sasha.

"Oof, finally!" Grime cleaned the sweat of his face. "The creature's stubborn; I'll give that to him."

"Yeah, I don't know. He's not so bad." Sasha rustled Joe's feathers, getting some happy chirping from him. "Hey, you think a blacksmith could make him a steel peck? You know, kick his dangerousness up a notch."

"How 'bout a shower? He needs one."

"So do you, old man."

Grime lifted an accusing arm and caught a sneeze at the smell from his armpit. "Point taken."

Sasha tied Joe Sparrow to a tree and took a look at the mill that had been their base to plan a coup on two separate times. There was just one last 'to do' on her list.

"Say Grime, can you get the bags out yourself? I got quick thing to do."

"Is it a life or death thing?"

"Yes."

The Captain's frown softened. "You have ten minutes."

More than enough, Sasha thought. She made a turn around the mill, heading straight to Marcy's grave, near the hedge when the backyard gave way to the woods. The tombstone with her best friend name on it still filled her with unreasonable panic. That ends now.

Sasha sat down in front of the grave, in the center of the flowers bed. As a kid, Sasha always wondered why people spoke to the tombstones at cemeteries. It was dumb. Who are you talking to? It's a piece of stone, man. There had to be better ways to spend your time than talking to the stones and skeletons.

When she was nine years old, her birth mother died and the foster family she was staying with took her to her grave after the funeral was over. They acted like this was a super important moment, like Sasha had the right to be upset. Sad, even. Truth be told, the only thing Sasha saw was a tombstone with the name of a woman she'd never meet; and if she was upset at anything, it was about how they made her get up early on a Sunday morning.

Her opinion had changed drastically now there was a tombstone with a name she recognized. She pulled her sword out and a sharpening stone and began to talk.

"Hey Mars Bars." Sasha slid the stone over the sword, eyes glued on the blade, not the tombstone. "We're done packing and ready to go. By tomorrow morning we shall be on Wartwood, if Joe doesn't get too tired. I found him, by the way. Or he found us? Either way, he's cool. I'll make sure Grime doesn't fry him up."

She stopped in her tracks. This was stupid. Not the 'talking to the dead' part —Sasha had gotten over her self-embarrassment a while ago. But she had been presented with an unique opportunity; to talk to Marcy without actually talking to her. Anything Sasha said here and now would be a secret; out of her chest and into the wind, where no-one would ever hear it or judge her for it. It was her last goodbye to her friend. She had to make it count.

"Can I tell you about my dream? Or not so much of a 'dream' as just something I think about a lot. It's about me, running from home." Sasha paused, surprised with herself. She'd never voiced this to anyone before. "Some days… some days sucked, right? You know the ones I mean, back on Earth. Those days when school was terrible, and the other kids were idiots, and everything felt pointless and kinda without color and all you want to do is to lock yourself into your room but can't do that because people will think you're weird. And you would stop yourself and think 'why do I even put up with all this crap?' Ever felt like that before?"

She waited for an answer that never came but that she already knew.

"And on these days I would think about… going away. Steal my foster parent's money. I know where they kept their savings. And then I would stop and think 'I should pick the girls first'. I know you would've accepted. Anne could've been a problem since she is super close to her family. Emotionally clingy much, amirite?" She laughed at her own joke. "But she would've given up eventually. And you could've helped me convince her! Just think about it. You, me and Anne. We could've been out of the state the same day. The money would've lasted us for a while. After that, I don't know. I never got too far into the details —it doesn't matter. With my skills, your brains, and Anne's… Annetitude, we would've been unstoppable!"

Sasha felt the deepest, most hidden corner of her heart shine up. The glee of childish ignorance was hard to ignore. Sasha thought she'd lost it; gone the first moment she draw blood with her sword. Even though it still existed, it was scarce. A nearly dried water well.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Sasha snapped at the tombstone. "Why didn't you tell us about your parents? To Anne. To me? I… We could've done something. Or do you think I have something to lose back home? We could've run away together, dude! No more parents, no more rules, no more stupid school bullies. Just the three of us. It could've been perfect!"

Sasha slapped her mouth shut. That came out louder than she wanted. She looked around to confirm she was still alone. Just her and the memory of her best friend.

"Although now we know that's a lie, uh?" She laughed without humor. "Half a year on our own and we've done nothing but fighting. It took Anne, what? Five minutes to find herself better friends? We wouldn't have lasted a day on the road."

Sasha brought a hand to her face. The scar hasn't hurt in a while, but its memory still seared.

"Was I really such a lousy friend? Anne surely thinks so. I always knew I'd never win a 'Best Behavior' award, but I thought you guys were… I thought you didn't care…"

She couldn't keep going. What a bunch of bullshit! The scar on her face proved her wrong. Mocked her for her lies.

"Who am I kidding? I've always been terrible." Sasha bit her lip at the confession. "If I'd been a better friend, none of this would've happened. Anne and I wouldn't have fought. We wouldn't even be stuck in this stinky world. And you… you would be…"

The sword felt from her trembling hands. Her fist went to her head, not quite pulling, but rubbing her sides with increasing pressure.

"It's not fair!" Sasha yelled. At the tombstone, herself, the Universe. "Why did you get to make things right? You sent Anne home like you promised and you apologized to me but I didn't get to apologize to you. Because I am sorry, alright? I'm sorry I'm such a mess up that couldn't-"

Bubbling rage grew in Sasha chest until it was freed as a throat splitting growl. She had to move, to do something or she might die! She slammed her legs and welcomed the pain. Then she brought her hands up and hit the sides of her head, feeling the noise pull back as she did so. She kept going and going, red with rage and blood, hitting the sides of her head in a steady rhythm before delving into furious punching. It quieted the noise, but only made the voices louder. This is your fault. You killed Marcy. You drove Anne away. You can't even apologize now, so no-one will know you're sorry. It should've been you.

But despite the voices accusations (or maybe because of them), Sasha kept her assault on her own head, feeling more numb by the second. If she kept going, maybe she'll hit herself out of consciousness. Maybe she'll disappear, and the world will kept going without her.

THUMP! Sasha shrieked at the noise and made a jump to escape, knowing full well what was coming. Alas, she was not fast enough and two long arms wrapped around her, pulling her against a strong chest. Sasha fought against her aggressor, punching the feathery body but the grip was just too strong and she was still too deadened to fight back.

"J-Joe Sparrow! Get your filthy wings outta my-" Her screaming was cut off by Joe pushing her deep into his prominent chest. There was even more space there, now that they had removed the bird's Newtopian armor.

After struggling for a whole minute, Sasha gave up. Fine! If this giant, sentient pillow wanted to hug her, so be it! Joe chirped as Sasha let her arms fall to her sides, and immediately began to coo. The sound was mesmerizing, as was the soft rumble inside the bird's chest. It was massage to Sasha's body and soul. She caught herself dozing off, anxiety being pushed to the back of her head.

She was calm… but how? This is the second time Joe sneak up to Sasha and hugs her. Is almost as if he had known what to…

Oh no.

Please, tell me Marcy didn't train this stupid bird on how to treat panic attacks, Sasha thought, and then she chuckled because Of course she did.

As Sasha's breath calmed, Joe eased his grip on her. She pulled off and brushed the feathers of her face.

She pet Joe's chest, making it chirp like a squeaky toy. "Out of all the steeds in Amphibia, I'm left with the comfort animal." Sasha laughed at the irony.

She still felt like blight on Amphibia, but he was done hitting herself. If it were for herself, she would never do it again. But she was starting to realize there were things outside of her control. That alone was scarier than anything she'd faced on this world.

Someone cleared their throat and Sasha went stiff. She looked behind Joe and there was Grime, arms on his hips. Yep, still stuck in adult mode, Sasha thought.

She spoke to Grime slowly, trying to keep her newfound calm. "So… how long have you been there?"

Grime took a moment to respond. "Do you want the truth, or do I lie to you?"

"…lie to me."

"I just got here. I heard nothing."

"Good. Let's leave it at that."

Grime nodded solemnly, looking more out of place than any other time. There had been a shift in their relationship these last few days, and neither of them had dared to acknowledge it yet.

They were Sasha and Grime. What was there to say?

"Anyway, I'd everything set up when this stupid bird flew away." Grime shift his weight from one leg to the other, as impatient people do (and people that had to hit the bathroom). "We can leave whenever you're ready."

That stung Sasha. She wasn't ready. She'll never be. But they had to leave all the same; it was the castle situation all over again.

The tombstone felt even colder now. There was a loneliness that gnawed Sasha from the inside. Everything Sasha had brought from Earth was six feet underground. But there had to be some good for all that bad, right?

She turned to face Grime and Joe. Grime gave her a thumb up —something Sasha had taught him how to do. Joe didn't seem to know exactly what was happening, but he chirped merrily at Sasha.

It was a team as good as any other. No, scratch that. It was an amazing team. An 'it's early in the morning so let's go find us some trouble' type of team. Whatever shit this world throws at them now, they'll face it together. And Sasha? She'll be fine. More than that, she'll be better. Stronger. Sharper. If Amphibia thought she was a bitch before, they'd seen nothing yet. She'll burn this whole world to get to Andrias if she has too. And then she'll make a better one.

After all, what doesn't kill you just makes you stronger.

She drew her heron sword —the red one, the one she fought Anne with. It hasn't brought her much luck.

She addressed the tombstone again. "You can rest now, Marcy. I'll take it from here. I'll make Andrias pay, set everything right. Promise."

Sasha lifted the sword to the sun and sunk it into the hard soil, right behind the tombstone. The picture was as pretty as it was somber. Now everyone will now Marcy Wu slept here. And that Anne Boonchuy and Sasha Waybright were buried with her.

Good riddance to the bitch, Sasha thought, meaning her old self. She won't spend a single second mourning her.

They brought Joe to the front and finished setting everything up. The new saddle had two big compartments at each side; more than enough for their stuff. Grime had taken their bags out, and had settled the rest of their possessions, including the tables and chair, in a big pile.

Sasha put the bags into Joe's saddle and stood in front of the pile. Grime opened a few bottles of bog-grog and began spilling the liquid the pile, soaking the wood in alcohol.

"Getting rid of the booze, I take it? Sounds good to me," said Sasha merrily.

"Its not that this makes me very happy, but I didn't had much of a choice. I've… noticed how you tend to lean towards self-destruction."

Sasha scoffed. "Just me?"

Grime gave a laugh and emptied the bottles. "Alright, alright. We lean towards self destruction." He sighed. "Its time to turn over a new leaf."

Grime went to his pocket and pulled a match. He lit it with the back of his arm —how did he even do that? — and threw it into the pile.

The pyre took fire immediately, although it would take a while for it to burn to cinders. Neither Sasha nor Grime were sentimental folks, but they found themselves staring into the fire. It was hard to see everything they had constructed burning up, with only an uncertain future in front of them.

Sasha took her gaze out of the fire, as smoke got inside her eyes. "We should get going," she said, cleaning a solitary tear. "The more we stall, the bigger the chances the frobots will find us."

"Right as usual, Lieutenant."

Grime picked the two leftover bottles and prepared some Molotov with them (although they're called 'bottle bombs' in Amphibia). He gave one to Sasha.

"For the future?" he asked.

Sasha tipped her bottle with Grime's. "For the future."

They brought the wicks to the fire and let the bombs loose on the mill. Fire engulfed the wooden walls like it was nothing and soon enough the whole building was on flames, breathing a black cloud into the air. Talking about spreading like fire, uh?

They had to leave now before the smoke alerted the town and they sent guards to investigate.

They took seat on Joe's back; Grime had a bit of a harder time, since Joe didn't stop squirming the whole time.

"I swear, this bird hates my guts," Grime grumbled, taking seat behind Sasha.

"You'll be napping with him in three days," said Sasha and Grime, knowing it was true, said nothing.

As soon as she pulled the reins, Joe took off, making circles as he gained altitude. Sasha had rode Joe just once and she wasn't at the front then. It took a lot of control and a steady hand to stop Joe from losing his route. Higher and higher they flew, until the mill —and the grave on its backyard— were nothing but a small dot. The air cut their faces as they reached limit altitude, but once they were above the lower clouds, Sasha let the reins go and Joe stabilized his flight. She looked at her compass and corrected Joe's direction. Now they were on route to Wartwood.

"Damn, take a whole lot of that view, Lieutenant. It's a beauty!" said Grime with childish glee.

Sasha did so and lost her breath. From up there, the whole valley came into view, not much different than her maps. Mountains and rivers in heartbreaking detail. Sasha let go of the reins, since Joe was in the right direction, and let her arms dangle free and the wind touch her face.

And right there, for just one second, Sasha felt a familiar presence dry the tears in her eyes.

Ta dah!

Not gonna lie, i'm happy this is over with. It was a pain to publish in such a short time... BUT it was a nice challenge, too! I have never written so much so fast before!

Of course, next time, i might take more time to re-write my fics. I like them to be as polished as possible.

Anyway, its done now. I have such a hard time writting Sasha. She is... VERY complex and with so many different facets. I hope i did a good job.

Thanks for everyone who read and commented! See you guys next time!