4. Sasha looking back

Sasha Waybright's scar was hurting. How was it possible that a more than 70 years old scar was hurting? If that was phantom pain, then she wanted Guardian powers right now to hunt and kill some phantoms. At least that's what she was telling herself. In reality it was just a minor, annoying pain. And in reality she was tired. Really, really tired.

88 years … not so bad. Not she was all too fond of the last 10 years or so, when most of her thoughts had been quite dark, but no one would ever live to say that Sasha was a quitter! And, if she was honest to herself, the closer the 88-year-mark came, the more curious she had become if the Guardian's prediction of her eventual lifespan would turn out to be true. It seemed now that this would indeed be the case.

Because there was not a shred of doubt in Sasha's mind that these were her last days. Maybe she wouldn't even live to see the next one. She had gotten weak, so weak … it as really frustrating actually! She had taken good care of her body all her life, she had been one of the oldest members in the gym at roughly 70, and she had been quite proud of it, although she obviously hadn't been able to do much anymore. Still. But old age would eventually catch up to you. Now, not even 20 years later, she wasn't even able to stand up anymore on her own. It had slowly driven her crazy. Hadn't she been so tired, which was not helped by the monotone beeps of the medical equipment around her, she would have screamed in frustration.

She often wished herself back to Amphibia, into her prime. No, wait: To Amphibia after she had quit being an asshole. There was NO way she ever wanted to be the self-absorbed, controlling bitch again who had lead the toad army to execute Hopediah Plantar. Anne and Marcy, bless them, had assured her time and time again how much better she had become as a person, and that even in her worst phase she still had had her good qualities, but … they had overcome their own demons, but had been victims mostly. She had been a bully, and she had come to despise her younger self, even more after the countless hours with her young patients, many of them having had bully problems too.

But being in Amphibia … it hadn't been all bad. Sure, there had been countless dangers and each world had its own problems, but they had been more direct. One problem with a civilized world like this one was that there were fewer accepted reasons to punch someone in the face. And well … Sasha HAD become a better person, but everyone was allowed to let off steam once in a while, right? And fighting deadly robots with equally deadly weapons with a strong, agile body in her prime had been exhilarating, no doubt about that.

On the other hand, living without the various comforts of Earth would have gotten old pretty fast too. To say nothing of the significant lack of romantic partners. She had become good friends with some of the inhabitants of Amphibia, some of them she remembered more fondly than even her own parents, Grime especially, but kissing, let alone SLEEPING with a toad or a frog? Yuck!

The amusement about the absurdity of her thoughts brightened her mood a bit. And What-if-scenarios? Really, Waybright? She had always been a practical woman, mind constructs like these were something for Marcy, not for her. Sadly … her dear friend wasn't around anymore. The eccentric Asian had died about 7 years ago. She had been sick for a while, and Sasha was actually glad that Marcy's death had been quick. Sure, a heart attack wasn't the nicest way to go, but it was definitely better than prolonged suffering … alright, now she was getting whiny, she didn't have it THAT bad. But if the Guardian came by right now and tried blackmail instead of a job offer a la "take the job and Marcy lives again and both of you will be young again" … she wouldn't take the offer, but she would be tempted. She missed the ridiculous, bubbly artist. A lot.

Anne too. Oh, of course Anne was still around. Old and tired too, like her, but it seemed like, as with their powers back then against the Core, Boonchuy would keep up longer than her against death too. And when you got old, it wasn't so easy to visit people anymore, even if you lived in the same city. Sure, the occasional phone call would come, and Anne had even visited her here in the hospital last week. It had been one of the really good days, them indulging in reminiscences for nearly two hours before Anne's son Sprig had come to get her again. Yes, she knew that this wasn't his actual name, but she had always called him that. She had been in a good mood for days after that. It had taken a lot of hospital food to bring it down to her current level again.

Aaah, how much fun the three of them had had in the past! Before Amphibia, although that had come with the taint of toxic friendship, in Amphibia of course, and even after their big adventure when they had refused to let each other go and numerous long video calls and even actual visits despite Marcy having moved to Ohio with her family … until Anne's 23rd birthday had become the first of a tradition of anniversary gatherings for the three of them every 5th year, with additional visits between them once in a while of course. Sometimes they had met each other in L.A., sometimes in Ohio, sometimes they had traveled somewhere else, sometimes family members had been with them, most often not. Those days had been theirs, to remember the things that had brought and later bound them together even firmer. So many things the three of them had shared no one else could hope to understand … their friendship had been a strong, reliable and precious one, and Sasha wouldn't have traded it away for anything.

Sadly, on their 50th anniversary, when they had been 63 years old, it had become quite clear that Marcy's health had been deteriorating. They had booked a resort specialized in exotic plants, huge parts of it had reminded them of the jungles in Amphibia. It had been glorious. In the atmosphere of this resort their memories and stories had gotten an even more nostalgic quality. But it had also been the first time when Anne and her had noticed Marcy's heart problems. Marcy had tried to play it down, but in the end she had admitted that there was a troubling risk of a heart attack involved and that she needed to take things easy. She however had become quite furious at the suggestion of canceling their meeting. And … considering that Marcy had been forced to cut their next meeting in L.A. short, that on the 60th anniversary she hadn't been allowed to travel anymore and on the 65th she had been bedridden – on both times she and Anne had of course visited her in Ohio –, that would have been a bad decision indeed. Also because it had been one of the greatest vacations Sasha had ever had, mostly because her dearest friends had shared it with her.

She missed the company. Especially here. If there was one big regret in her life, then it was the lack of family. Oh, some of her distant relatives had visited her, and a moving number of her former patients too – some of these talks had really warmed her heart, shown her that she had indeed left a positive mark on their lives. But … it wasn't the same. Marcy's daughter Emily, a really sweet girl, much more focused on her life goals than her adorably erratic mother, had visited her dying mother every few days. That was probably one of the most important functions of family … making dying easier. She was glad that Anne had a big family – the Thai woman would most likely die surrounded by love.

That would probably be the only occasion ever to see Polly vulnerable. Anne's girl was feisty, Sasha had enjoyed babysitting her most of all, though Sprig and Maxeem were good kids too of course. Only Niran had never liked her much. One of Marcy's wild theories had said that he and Sasha were too similar in personality, both responsible and practical, and that he probably had felt a bit threatened. Well … he hadn't been entirely wrong. Sasha HAD had a crush on Anne back then after Amphibia. Anne's character growth in the other world had stunned Sasha, a meek doormat had suddenly become someone who would stand up to her without fear. She had began to truly notice the surprising amount of Anne's good qualities after that … bravery, kindness, empathy, humor, a strong sense of community, toughness, a sheer unending well of forgiveness, not to forget beauty … Anne was a catch, no doubt about it. There had been more than one sleepless night in which Sasha had agonized over the question if she should confess her feelings.

In the end she had decided against it. Their friendship had been a gift, one she hadn't felt she deserved … she had decided not to risk it, also because she had never gotten an unambiguous sign that Anne was even interested in women. That had been a mistake, according to Marcy at least – her friend had been adamant that there HAD BEEN signs, but Anne herself had never admitted anything beyond unbreakable friendship, the occasional teasing banter aside. And well, Marcy's overachieving mind sometimes had seen clues where none existed. Many amusing discussions had sprung from her friend's wild imagination. In the end it hadn't mattered that much. Soon Anne had met Niran, and they had created an amazing family … and she had found HER.

Sasha closed her eyes. Alice. The picture of her beloved was still vivid in her mind, and she was grateful for that. She never wanted to forget her, no matter how much it hurt. They had both been studying psychology and they had clicked immediately. She had realized it only later, but Marcy had been right in that regard: Alice had reminded her of Anne – very much so. Both liked physical activities, even though with Alice it had been hiking instead of tennis, Alice had had a warm, caring personality too and she had enjoyed bantering with Sasha just as much as Anne. She had been one year older than Sasha because she had taken off a year to do social work – immediately reminding Sasha of Anne's Thai community activities. She had liked to party once in a while, she hadn't been interested in fencing, but had liked to watch Sasha doing it … and she had been so beautiful.

Caucasian, though usually tanned skin, slim build, long brown hair, always a smirk on her face, green eyes often twinkling with laughter behind her sexy glasses, those soft hands with surprisingly strong fingers … Sasha hadn't stood a chance. She had tried to appear smooth, but Alice had seen right through her. She had stayed friendly and casual, not reacting to Sasha's flirting attempts at all with the exception of these knowing smirks, until Sasha had fallen apart. And only THEN she had asked SASHA out on a date.

The date had been nothing special. But it had confirmed what they had already suspected – they enjoyed each other's company tremendously. They could discuss psychology-related stuff for hours. Alice liked listening to Sasha's tales from Amphibia and watching the movements of Sasha's muscles while she was training and Sasha in return loved Alice' many family stories, having grown up in a rural community with six siblings, who had been – surprisingly against all cliches – okay with Alice wanting to study in L.A. and being a lesbian. Soon Alice had met Anne and Marcy, and they had liked each other. They had stopped dating and become an official couple very soon … and once they had reached their early 30s and had been established in their fields, Sasha specializing in child psychology, Alice staying in general psychology … they had discussed their next big steps. Marriage. And adoption. There had been no doubt in their mind that they wanted both.

It had been nothing spectacular. A simply traffic accident. And yet if had destroyed Sasha's whole world. Brake failure. The car had hit Alice and she had been dead mere minutes later. Sasha had fallen into a deep hole when the news had reached her. Had it not been for Marcy and especially Anne, who was able to visit her in person more often of course, who had tried their very best to shoulder some of the pain themselves … she wasn't sure if she would still be alive today. Seeing Alice' pale, motionless face in the casket … nothing in her whole life had prepared her for that. A huge part of her heart had followed Alice into the grave, at the young age of 36.

She had dated again, but not often, and she had soon given up. No one would ever replace her beloved in Sasha's mind. Those years had been incredibly hard … but she was the Champion of Strength. She had pushed through the pain, step by step, and had found the will to live again. She had focused on her work ever since, putting most of her energy into helping her patients, making other lives better. She had also spent most of the rest of her time with Anne, Marcy and their families, to at least get a glimpse of a happy family life. She liked to think her and Alice' adopted kid would have become good friends with theirs. Alice wouldn't have wanted her to give into despair, and it wasn't really her style anyway. More than 50 years … and Alice was still the only person in her life who was equally as important to her as the two girls whom she had traveled to another world with.

The door opened. She opened her eyes. What now? She was getting weaker and weaker and it was actually hard to stay awake … dying while thinking of her beloved wouldn't have been a bad thing. But then she realized who it was.

"Anne!"

And it indeed was her old friend. She was leaning on her son Sprig, who helped her sit down in a chair next to Sasha's bed, and returned the smile. Oh, she had grown old too, but there was still the same amount of love in her eyes.

"Hi Sasha," she said with her usual warm voice. Her hand found Sasha's. "Do you mind some company?"

"No," Sasha croaked, having at least a Hop-Pop in in her throat, maybe a Sprig too, her eyes never leaving Anne's face, which had never been more beautiful. "Not at all."

"They told me that it's serious this time, Sasha." Anne signaled her son to leave the room, which he did. "So I've made time for you."

Sasha couldn't hold back the tears. She wouldn't die alone here. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you, Anne."

When she awoke she immediately started sobbing. It had been hard for Anne, she knew it. She was an old woman, and it had taken about three more hours for Sasha to finally close her eyes and pass away. And yet she had stayed with Sasha, not complaining even once. Frogdammit, how was it possible to be so GOOD? She didn't care if anyone could see her, she cried some more tears of relief and thankfulness.

After that she took a few deep breaths, collecting herself. She could feel that her body, or whatever it really was, was young again. Twenty years or so. Alright. She finally opened her eyes and inspected her surroundings. Similar looking, but not quite the same floating island, for once it was bigger than last time, and a small distance away from her fortress there was also a Newtopian building and a tiny Wartwood hut. Nevermind. She knew where she had to go.

"Welcome back, Sasha Waybright," the Guardian, in his dog form, this time without duncecap, greeted her. Nothing had changed in the replica of her old toad-army-sponsored room, as far as she could remember.

"Guardian," she replied. "Not much seems to have changed for you."

"Very little does in such a short amount of time," the Guardian confirmed. "Though your experience is probably very different from mine."

Sasha sat down on the couch this time, a little farther away from the Guardian. She wasn't really touchy-feely at the moment. "I find it hard to believe that you wouldn't know about my life," she declared. "It was full of love, trials, routine, pain … quite a lot of pain, actually." She looked at the dog accusingly. "Almost as if someone was testing my tolerance."

"Changing things in the lives of your successor as a Guardian can have greater consequences than you think," the Guardian countered. "It is wise to do it as rarely as possible. Was your life still worth living?"

Sasha grimaced for a moment, but then she relaxed. No need to antagonize a powerful being TOO much. "Sure. By the way, thanks for bringing back Anne from the dead after she blew up the Core. It meant a lot to me that she was there at my deathbed a few minutes ago." She raised an eyebrow. "I always wondered if that was an attempt to guilt-trip me into taking the job, but I guess not. The note in Anne's pocket about seeing you soon was a bit risky, I think. She and Marcy could have started asking questions about who wrote it, and I didn't want to tell them about you … and neither would I have wanted to lie to them."

"It worked out as it was intended," the Guardian replied cryptically. "I sense that you have another question."

"Yes." Sasha licked her lips. "Is it possible to speak to long dead people as a Guardian?"

"Sometimes," the Guardian answered. "It is hard to describe to a being without my abilities, but not all souls are at the same place or in the same state."

"Figures that there aren't any easy answers in this situation."

"Did you expect that?"

Sasha snorted. "No really," she admitted.

"Then I guess it is time to ask the most important question," the Guardian concluded. "Sasha Waybright, … are you now prepared to take over the position of the Guardian of the Multiverse, with all the power and duties it entails?"

"Yeah, and now comes the funny part," Sasha mumbled and looked away. "No. I'm not."

"What?" the Guardian exclaimed, barking twice. For a moment Sasha thought that she'd get annihilated by an angry god, but it turned out to be a … random reaction seemingly. The Guardian probably didn't know all about how dogs usually reacted to things. "Why not? You were already strong with 13 years. And life has hardened you even more. You are more than qualified!"

"Qualified ..." Sasha repeated, looking at the ceiling. "You want me to be a protector. Someone who safeguards countless lives, but also allows for sacrifices if they are necessary to keep the multiverse running. Right?" She shot a glance at the Guardian, who nodded. "Can I do that? Sure, I guess. For quite a while. As you said, life has hardened me. But for thousands of years, without anyone to hold ME once in a while?" She shook her head. "I would have fallen apart after Alice' death if it hadn't been for Anne and Marcy. When I felt suicidal, a phone call with them or them reminding me about a thing Alice did once managed to bring me back. I can do this job, for a while. But for thousands of years, me alone? No. I'm not strong enough."

The Guardian looked at her for nearly half a minute. Then he nodded, looking like a scolded dog again. "Very well," it acknowledged. "May I at least show you one last thing that may change your mind? If not, then I will let you go."

"Sure, why not? It's not like I'm in a hurry."

"Then follow me."

The Guardian stood up and trotted towards the door. Sasha followed. She knew that there was nothing that could change her mind. She had experienced loneliness already, a truckload of it, and there was no way she'd continue to do so. Even if the Guardian became angry and started doing bad things because she had declined … who knew if she would be any better? The first thing she'd probably do was trying to bring Alice back to life or at least talk to her, maybe that would break some essential rules already and fuck up the multiverse beyond repair? Nah.

The door opened on its own and they stepped outside. She immediately saw the movements at the hut and the Newtopian building. Her eyes opened wide when she recognized the two humans who were just stepping out of the two buildings, lead by … Joe Sparrow and Domino? The hell? For a moment there was complete silence as all of them stared at each other. And then all of them shouted at the same time: "What are YOU doing here?"