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Wood. Brown. Coated. New. Painted knob.
Marcy’s leg wouldn’t stop going up and down. She couldn’t remember the last time she blinked.
Rectangular. Few feet tall. Couple meters tall. Reminded her of the principal’s office.
She fixated on things when she was nervous. The door to her therapist’s office was the most interesting thing in the world right now.
Smelled like the rest of the waiting room. Felt hard to the touch. Creaked after a certain threshold. Nothing else to think about– not true. Doors were very interesting. She could think about doors all day.
She was gonna tell her therapist about Amphibia.
“Ugh.” She closed her eyes forcefully, like it made a difference.
She could feel the beat of her heart accelerate and then decelerate a few beats per minute. This kind of detail was utterly impossible to see on purpose, but it randomly distracted her constantly. Other people assumed she was just rude, and wasn’t paying attention to their conversation.
That wasn’t true either. She was always paying attention. She just had a million other things in her head.
The first time the doctor talked about diagnoses, she couldn’t stop thinking about the smooth textures different frogs and amphibious creatures had. People assume it was all the same, but frogs, newts and lizards all had different levels of–
Marcy had decided early on she wasn’t going to go on medication. Nothing against it, it just didn’t sit right with her. She remembered when she was a kid and took nighttime flu medicine. It made her hallucinate, then throw up all over her bed. She hated medicine ever since. The creation of medicine was actually a really interesting story–
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, the clock in the therapist’s waiting room was so loud. She never understood how people could think over a consistent sound like that. It was like a drumming sound that interrupted her every thought, not a soothing metronome like Sasha knew how to, because she actually knew how to play the piano, she had music lessons–
Cease, child. A terrible, yet not menacing voice in her head said, out loud. You are not going to accomplish anything like this.
Marcy took a deep breath. She held the air in long enough to feel her lungs expand, and then released it slowly. Not all of it washed away with the air, but she felt some of her mind empty out. Organize itself into something more manageable. Sheets, drafts and numbers.
The Core was helping.
There, there. It said, with a genuine pang of concern over the death knell of a thousand tortured souls inherent to its diction. You are doing much better now.
She never told anyone part of the Core stayed in her mind. Not enough to control her, and probably not the whole kaleidoscope of Amphibia’s greatest minds, but… enough. Enough to talk. Somehow, enough to care.
It had stopped being mad years ago. At this point, it was a cozy, weird roommate.
How do you fare?
“I’m fine, just…” She whispered. It was better to say it out loud. It made her feel less crazy, despite the fact she was literally talking to herself aloud. “I wanna go home.”
You have been talking about this for weeks. You missed your last two appointments.
“I know, but I was sick for one of them–”
You were not. You woke up and you cried, and you moaned, and you gave up. You forced a cough because you could not fake a sore throat.
Marcy didn’t say anything for a second. We are sorry. That was harsh.
“It’s true though.” She sighed. “I don’t have to tell them about Amphibia. It’s not that important. I can talk around it.”
She could swear she heard the Core ruminating around her head. Almost like it was still a sphere with spider-legs, skittering around the inside of her mind, pecking at her soul and memories like an insect looking for food.
Then who will you tell it to, child? A pause, almost as if to get closer. We are one. We know how you hurt. We know what you think. We know the paths these memories have taken you through.
“I don’t have to take anyone else with me.” The whispering gave way to pained words, spoken at a normal level.
The two other people in the room, also waiting for their appointments, didn’t react. One had headphones, the other didn’t care.
It is not worth it walking alone. It is not honorable, nor is it wise. There is power in quantity. There is catharsis in hearth, in belonging, even with just another one. The Core was built on these ideals. Strength through togetherness. Perfection through similitude.
The thousand voices of the Core hushed, followed by a far lesser number, yet far more emotional:
But we know it’s not always easy, Marcy. Regardless of what you decide, we are walking with you. You don’t have to worry about being alone like that.
Marcy hated talking to the Core before sessions. It was like crying pre-game. Her face got all red and she knew the doctor could tell.
“I know.”
The door opened, and Dr. Henri welcomed her in. Their hair was held tightly this time, so Marcy didn’t know if they’d cut it or not. Their blue and white clothes made them look lighter, somehow, despite the doctor being very tall.
“Here Marcy, it’s your turn.” They welcomed Marcy into the office.
The first time they met, the first thing Marcy asked was where the ottoman was. She thought there’d be a big ottoman for her to lay down on and wax her woes. Dr. Henri told her people kept falling asleep, so they used chairs now.
The chairs were ridiculously comfortable, and Marcy had fallen asleep on them a total of three times. They didn’t face each other directly, which made everything less awkward.
“So how are we today?” They asked, smiling.
Marcy had a few choices. She could ease into the subject, eventually revealing it in a way that wouldn’t make the doctor laugh or think she had lost it. She could pussyfoot around it for a few sessions. She could even just ignore it, and keep the conversation going from last time about her career choices.
So she chose what came naturally.
“IWENTTOANOTHERREALITYRULEDBYFROGSANDNEWTSBECAUSEIWASAFRAIDMYFRIENDSWEREGONNALEAVEMEANDIALWAYSKILLEDEVERYONE.”
No one ever said what came naturally was smart.
Oh by the Axolotl. Every time.
She could swear the Core found a way to facepalm without a face, or a hand.
Dr. Henri stared at Marcy, unblinking and unflinching. This wasn’t the reaction Marcy was expecting. Did they understand a word Marcy said? Should she say it again? It had probably been too fast, maybe she could still–
“Would you like to talk about it?”
Nothing.
Silence.
What?
“WHAT?” The shout was probably too much, and she immediately regretted it. But it was genuine! She was always told to be genuine!
Dr. Henri’s expression was a mixture of kindness and slight confusion. “Marcy, sweetie, you were on television, remember? With the armor and the army of robots?”
“B-b-b-but I thought people thought that they thought it was it-it-it was a hoax? I saw it on the news that–”
“Oh please, I don’t watch Volp News” Henri waved away her worries with good humor. “Marcy, do you remember who recommended me to you?”
“Oh, it was, um… Anne’s friend, Terri.”
“And how did Anne meet Terri?”
“...”
The dots connected in Marcy’s head, almost making a pop! sound. The blood rushed to her cheeks and colored her face red.
The Core snickered. That almost never happened. It was like the sound of rasp metal screeching against a rusty floor, but, also, of old people having fun at bingo. The combination was enough to put her at ease.
Marcy laughed too. “Oh, wow. Oh this makes it so much easier.”
“Is this why you didn’t want to talk about Amphibia before?” The doctor asked, their notes up again. “I’ve noticed you always talk about your friends who were there, and you skirt around some of the things you did, but never actually talk about the place directly.”
“I just thought it was a big secret!” She motioned with her arms: a secret this big. “I mean I’m not that girl from Gravesfield, I don’t just pop in and out of other worlds like that. It was just… hard to believe at first.”
“Well, I can assure you I believe you. It’s okay to come out.”
“Oh! Thank you! Turns out I’m aromantic but I don’t really know how to…”
Henri’s eyes widened. Then so did Marcy’s. Somehow, so did all of the Core’s myriad eyes.
“Y-you meant about Amp-phibia oh god oh god”
“I mean yes but we can talk about that too–”
“N-no, it’s, it’s fine, I do want to talk about Amphibia, I, I just, that wasn’t supposed to, I–"
Henri closed their notebook, putting their hands up.
“Okay, Marcy, hang on a second.” The doctor got up from their chair, motioning to Marcy to do the same. “We’re going to have our breathing exercises now and then we can talk for the rest of the session, okay?”
Congratulations, Marcy, the voices said. You broke the doctor’s spirit.
“Hm, I think I got the timeline down.” The doctor said, writing something down.
Henri’s notebook felt infinite to Marcy. Every time she assumed the book was over, Henri would just turn the page and keep writing. It always felt like it was in the middle.
“This is consistent with what I heard over the years, too. It’s a pretty wild story, I have to say.”
“Right? And I skipped some parts, I mean there’s stuff there for like, a book, or a comic, or…” Marcy let the sentence die. Henri picked it up.
“Or?”
“Ah, you know, it’s also just a thing that happened to me. I-it’s not that big a deal.”
“Marcy, I’ve been seeing patients for 10 years.” The doctor’s gaze became slightly more piercing. Not enough to be menacing, but enough for Marcy to know they were serious. “You didn’t tell me this because it wasn’t a big deal.”
“I mean it mattered but it’s not the same.” Marcy hiccuped. She had been talking for a long time. “It’s not the same as the others.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, we all met people there, but… it was their adventure, you know? Anne and Sasha, they had the full package. After we finally met I was knocked out for so much of it, and it turned out I was being lied to, and then I… I…”
Gulp. Scorching hot flame breaking through bone and sinew. Waves of energy in the shape of a blade disrupting all her systems. The look of horror in Anne’s face, and the realization that this was it. This was how she died. This was the last moment she would ever have with her friends. The last time she would ever get to apologi–
Child, you are shaking.
She didn’t even realize Henri was holding her hand, crouched by her side. The physical feedback of the panic attack hit her like a truck. She felt like she was going to be faint and sick all at once. The office spun like the throne room when she was going down, sword in her chest and friends screaming over Andrias’s cruel remarks.
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Henri’s voice, in contrast, was smooth and controlled. “We have all the time in the world, all the sessions you need to get through this. You can let go if you want, and I’ll still be here next time, okay?”
No words came out of Marcy at that time. The shaking wasn’t really receding, but she felt it less. The tears in her eyes didn’t make it better – the whole world was a blurry mess of colors and sensations.
You are in the field, Marcy.
The Core’s influence cut through her fears like a violent, protective knife. Damage over damage, only of a different kind. Familiar and manageable.
The castle is beyond the horizon. The taller blades of the lush green fields touch your hands. You smell dew and polen in the wind. Over yonder, you see mighty, ancient odonatans. Feel the warmth of their firebreath. Feel the breeze of their dragonfly wings.
The image was as clear as day. She could feel the leather and cotton garments, the weight of the crossbow on her hand, the fur on the boots keeping her legs warm. The sun on her skin. She was in the field. She was in the office, but she was in the field.
The field is in your head, child. The field is always in your head. You may go wherever you want, but you may always return to the field.
You are of the Core. You do not face this world alone.
“Feeling better?” Henri asked, smiling. No more shaking.
“Yeah.” Her throat really hurt now. She was sweaty and gross. But she meant it. “All better. S-sorry about–”
“No need for that here, okay?” Henri got up from their crouching position. “We’ll take this as slow as you want to take it. Just telling me all about it was enough for now.”
Marcy nodded. She felt exhausted. Couldn’t wait to get home and watch more Dragonclaw Omega, as jank as the animation was.
Dr. Henri had a few more questions for her about what she just experienced. Marcy always learned a lot from the questions her doctor asked her. This kind of emergency didn’t have all the time, but it happened enough that she knew how to get back into gear.
“Hey, Marcy?” The doctor asked after a while. “We’ve still got some time left. Can I ask you something personal?”
“Um, sure.”
We thought that was the doctor’s job.
“Would you like to talk about being aromantic?”
A different kind of panic attack. Nowhere near as bad, but definitely uncomfortable. She completely forgot she outed herself by accident. People called it anxiety, sure, but she just called it awful.
“Ah, um, uh, I, er, it’s, I–”
Henri chuckled. “It’s okay if you don’t, it’s alright.” The doctor closed their notebook, as if telling Marcy this was off the clock. It wasn’t, but the distinction was appreciated. “It’s just been a big session, and I wanted to make sure.”
“Y-yeah, it’s been a, um…” She looked down at her feet and remembered how she got those shoes. She kept staring and remembered the first time she got them wet. She kept remembering. She kept trying to escape.
There is no escaping yourself. Do this.
“I don’t like it.”
Henri’s brow reacted, but quickly went back to neutral. “How so?”
“I found out about it when talking to Sasha. She was telling me about this new boy she’s dating.” Marcy kept looking down. Her hands found their way up to her arms, and she began to almost hug herself through the story. “She said she decided never to try anything with Anne. Too much baggage. B-but then she kept talking, and I realized she was serious?”
“Serious about her boyfriend?”
“Not like that, it’s, I realized she was talking about dating people for real. Like, spending time with them, going on dates, w-waking up near them, and, and, I-I don’t know.” You’re in control. You can do this. We can do this. “I read romance novels all the time, I cry when I see romance movies, but I never realized what I was supposed to think about them. Until Sasha was telling me about it. I thought it was… just stuff people made stories about, I guess. Like dragons and magic and stuff.”
“Do you think you’re supposed to feel a certain way?”
“I mean yeah, it’s normal, isn’t it? It’s how they teach it at school.” Her eyes finally met Henri’s. She only hoped they didn’t look as sad as she felt. “When Sasha was talking I heard how interested in this she was, and how happy she was that she got someone. And I… it really scared me.”
Henri didn’t ask a follow-up question. Marcy knew she was already committed to continuing. “Am I never gonna find anyone? Is that what this means? I-I don’t feel anything like she said. Like I love my friends, I l-love Sasha, and Anne, and my parents, and I would do anything for them, but… I…”
“You don’t feel it like she does.”
“No.”
And then the tears were back.
“And then I kept thinking, was that always how it was? Because back in Amphibia, Yunan and Olivia were so obviously into each other, and I thought oh, it’s just a click that happens sometime, and it just hasn’t happened for me, but then then then Sasha said it’s not? It’s a different thing that grows and changes how you think, and it’s… I never felt that. I don’t even know what that’s supposed to feel like. I thought... I thought I was in love with Sasha all my life until she explained to me how much I wasn’t. S-she didn’t even notice she was doing it. Like I wasn’t even there.”
Her chest hurt. Her head hurt. Her stomach hurt. She wanted to go home, but it was too late to stop.
“I mean what’s the point of being alive if I can’t love other people?” She blurted out. If Henri reacted, they didn’t show it. The Core was agitated. “I feel like I’m not even people. Ever since I heard Sasha talk about it, I keep hearing how different people sound when talking about others. They’re all so complete, they’re all so normal, why can’t I be normal too?
Child. Marcy–
“I was supposed to have figured this out before! It was so obvious, why didn’t I ever notice? Am I that distracted? Am I stupid? Could everyone else tell what I was? What is wrong with me? Why is there so much wrong with me?!”
Sobbing and tears and the internal, eldritch noises of a concerned artificial god, trying its hardest to hug a teenager while lacking physical form.
It didn’t bother Marcy that much, usually. But today wasn’t like most days. She felt every wound she ever acquired in Amphibia opening up again, even the ones that weren’t there anymore. She felt new wounds she never knew were there bleeding, and she didn’t know how much she could lose through them.
There was always something wrong with her. That was the story of her life. That’s why people always used her. That’s why her parents didn’t care. That’s why Andrias killed her. That’s why Sasha didn’t bother asking if she was okay. That’s why–
“Marcy?” Henri said, after enough silence. “I’m going to tell you what I wish someone told me when I was your age, okay?”
The girl cleaned her tears and snot with her sleeve. “O-okay.”
“Look at me.”
Henri held both her hands, looking Marcy straight in the eye. Marcy always thought the doctor was beautiful, but the feeling came weird now. Recontextualized.
“You’re wrong.”
It didn’t as much hit her as it waved a lot of her train of thought away. Marcy expected a pick-me-up, or an impassioned speech. Or anything other than that.
“What?”
“You’re people, and you can still love people. You can still have relationships, you can still get married. If you want to, you can have children. Or you can not. You can spend the rest of your life without any of that and be the happiest person alive. There’s nothing wrong with you. What you’re gonna call love is what you feel love is.”
No answer. No thoughts. For the first time in so long, her mind was completely empty.
“The thing they don’t tell you in school is that the only person who gets to decide what you can or cannot do is yourself.” Henri continued. Marcy decided one day she was gonna make sure her voice never cracked, so she’d sound more like her doctor. “Nobody feels exactly the same. Nobody thinks exactly the same. We’re all unique and we’re all trying to fit anywhere we can. The words we use don’t define us, they describe us.”
“Isn’t it bad that I don’t think I fit anywhere, though? Everyone else feels like they already fit…”
“You don’t fit anywhere yet.” They smiled. “There’s always more to the world than what’s in front of you. But here’s the secret, okay? You don’t have to fit in all the time. You don’t have to be what you thought you were supposed to be. You can be Marcy Wu, or whatever you turn out to want to be. It’s not weird. It’s just you taking charge of your life.”
“And… everyone is like that?” She asked, suddenly sounding like she was in class. “Are you like that?”
“Oh, Marcy.” Henri laughed. “No 30-year-old alive knows what they’re doing. You don’t see the adults in your life talking about this because they think they have to belong. They think they have to conform, and whatever’s going on with them isn’t worth it.” They let go of Marcy’s hands, motioning at the office. “I was supposed to be in France, cooking at a restaurant like my father did. My brother was supposed to marry his high school sweetheart and move to Paris.”
Marcy couldn’t blink. She felt like she would miss some important detail if she blinked.
“And you didn’t?”
“My brother married his sweetheart’s brother and is working in a theater in Germany, and I can’t fry an egg.” Henri took a deep breath, as if enjoying how saying it out loud felt. “I couldn’t imagine being happier. I can’t imagine how miserable it would be if I had listened to the voice inside my head telling me everything I learned at age 10 was the whole truth. That the first plans I ever made were the only plans worth considering.”
The doctor extended their hand, and Marcy took it, getting up from her seat. She felt light.
“Sometimes you’re not what you expected you were gonna be, but there’s nothing as rewarding as discovering who you really are, no matter what other people think. That’s the point of being alive. At least for me, it is.”
“Oh, wow, I did say that, I’m s…sorry, I wanted to stop saying sorry. Uh, s–”
“I was your age once, I get it.” Henri put their hand on Marcy’s shoulder to stop them from an apology loop. “Hey, I got some phone numbers that could help you. Some local groups. Kids your age, going through similar things. Would you be interested? They serve donuts every Thursday.”
Hunger! Sustenance! Lifeblood! The Core writhed in excitement.
“Hunger! Sustenance! Lifeblood!” She said, writhing with excitement.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Henri looked at their wristwatch. “Well, we blew 20 minutes past our regular time, but I think that’s fine. Let’s just not make a habit of it.”
“Right. Thank you Dr. Henri.” Marcy made to leave, and then stopped. “Um.”
“What’s wrong?”
“C-can I hug you?”
Dr. Henri hugged Marcy. The Core silently thanked them.
“Admit it, you thought I was gonna chicken out.”
We never said that.
“Yeah, right.”
Marcy could have taken the bus, but she wanted to walk home this time. It was a cool afternoon, with orange-purple skies and a lot of extreme emotions to work through.
We are happy you went through with it, all the same.
“Thanks.” Marcy hesitated. “And um, thank you for your help today, too. I really appreciate it.”
Hmph. The fields are yours, child. You summoned them in your time with us. We simply open the door when we desire.
Marcy didn’t answer. Somehow, she felt the Core shuffling, awkwardly.
And if you need the door opened more often, we will always be ready for you.
“Aw, look at you, all vaguely redeemed and lovely.” She started, until the question arose in her head. “Um, Core?”
Yes?
“Why are you nice to me?”
Because we love you.
Marcy stopped walking.
“What?”
Is this not what the doctor said was happening? We have defined our attitude toward you as such. It was the term agreed upon by consensus.
“I, I just, it’s kinda… a lot?”
A moment of silence. Probably an entire election happening. Marcy knew to wait sometimes.
The doctor’s words are wise. We subscribe to them.
A pause, more reflective than usual. Less voices, less mechanical, less awful. Almost like people talking.
We hurt you, Marcy. We almost killed you. Yet you treat us like friends. It’s not something we can ever truly repay.
We return your kindness and humanity the only way we can. It is not the love humans seek, but… it is real for us.
We hope it is real for you, as well.
“ah” was the only sound that Marcy managed to get out before bursting into happy tears. “I love you too, you literal goofball.”
We are not a goofball.
“It’s a good thing to be! I swear! No no, I’m serious, look–”
And so Marcy marched home, rambling incoherently about nonsense all the way through, speaking to demonic voices no one else could hear.