Best Left Forgotten

Chapters

I - Shortness of Breath
II - Out of Control
III - Difficulty Trusting Others
IV - Derealization
V - Fatigue
VI - Self-Destructive Behavior
VII - Physical or Emotional Numbness
VIII - Distorted Self-Image
IX - Restlessness
X - Idealization of Others
XI - Impulsive Decisions
XII - Unstable Relationships
XIII - Social Impairment
XIV - Hypervigilance
XV - Interpersonal Effectiveness
XVI - Dissociation
XVII - Intense Irritability

I - Shortness of Breath

Wallflower Blush lay motionless, but not because she chose to. Something had disconnected her mind and body, a sudden paralysis that kept her pinned to the floor. Despite being unable to move, though, she was very much able to feel.

Her skin shivered in the frigid air of this blackness that was consuming her. Wallflower felt the sharp tingle of a million invisible needles as they passed over her legs, their trails stinging as if hot lines of blood were seeping from impossibly small cuts. Her whimpers died in her throat as she struggled to breathe beneath the crushing weight of whatever invisible mass had settled atop her.

Tears tickled Wallflower’s cheeks as they leaked from her closed eyes. She was going to die here. She was going to die without even knowing what had condemned her to this pit. Maybe using the memory stone so much had backfired somehow, and this hellish void was all that remained of her fragmented mind. Maybe Sunset and her friends had used some kind of magic to imprison her as punishment for everything she had taken from them. Maybe she had died in her sleep and somehow forgotten about it, and this place was all there was on the other side.

Her empty lungs ached, forcing her diaphragm into a gasping spasm. It was easier to breathe now, but the air around her suddenly stank of sweat and blood, tinged with a faint sweetness that made her gag. Wallflower coughed and spat, and after a whimper she reluctantly sucked in another lung-full of the foulness. Maybe suffocation wouldn’t be so bad.

Just as Wallflower was beginning to acclimate to the many layers of discomfort, agonizing pain stabbed through her entire body. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out, and the torturous sensation began to rip her apart from the inside—

Wallflower's eyes shot open and she seized up, holding her breath. After a silent second, her breathing started up again, with shallow gasps coming in and out as she trembled. Her fists were clenching and unclenching beside her, and her nails pressed into her palms hard enough to leave little crescent shapes behind in her skin.

It had been the same dream as the night before, and the night before that. Wallflower had long since lost track of how many of her evenings had been hijacked by this nightmare. Every time it did, it etched itself into her memory more and more. At this point, Wallflower could recite every terrible detail in her head, something she found herself doing more and more lately.

She sat up in bed and reached for the drawstring of the lamp beside her. The bulb flickered to life, casting a dim amber glow in a small area around her. Wallflower forced herself to take a deep breath, and as she did, her gaze fell on her hands. As frequent as this dream was, Wallflower was always surprised at just how much her hands were shaking afterwards. Witnessing her own body acting without her input left her with a sense of... something. Whatever it was, she didn’t like it.

She glanced at the little digital clock on her bedside table, dreading what the numbers may say. Upon seeing them, she was pleasantly surprised. Four o’clock wasn’t that bad, really. Slowly, Wallflower rolled out of bed, pulling her lengthy green hair over her shoulder. Maybe a good shower would help keep her mind off the nightmare for a while.

As soon as she stepped into the torrent of warm water, Wallflower could feel her muscles relax, even if just a little. Her relief was short lived, however, as she soon remembered that her time with this shower, and indeed this apartment, was limited. Without the memory stone, she was no longer able to fool her landlord into believing her rent was paid.

As her drowsiness melted away beneath the warm water, Wallflower began to unwillingly recall her situation in its entirety. With no job, no income and her parents’ memories of her gone for good, Wallflower would likely be forced out at the end of the month.

Stealing memories had been her solution to every problem. She couldn’t afford rent? All she had to do was make the landlord forget she owed him anything. She needed food? She could just steal it and make the grocer forget she was ever there. When she couldn’t fit in with her peers, she had wiped everyone’s good memories of the nicest person in school to make herself look better by comparison.

Wallflower leaned against the cold tile of the shower wall. She had relied on that stupid rock for everything, and everything she’d used it for was awful. As much as she wanted to feel bad for herself, she knew it was entirely her own fault. She also knew there was no way she could survive without the stone. Her pantry was nearly empty and she’d soon be without a home. While she could maybe go talk to her parents and convince them to let a total stranger live with them, she had left that family for very good reasons. Going back under any circumstance was the last thing she wanted to do.

On top of all that, these damn nightmares had sapped her of energy and resolve. She could never rest without being subjected to the same gruesome episodes of pain and terror. After so many nights lost to suffocation, all Wallflower wanted was to sleep free of torment—even if it meant never waking up again.

With that, her mind settled into the same grim resignation she arrived at every morning. She turned the shower off, wrapped herself in a towel and flopped back onto her bed, her wet hair dampening the sheets.

Wallflower looked at the clock. She still had a few hours before school started, and even though there wasn’t much reason to attend, it was too routine to just stop entirely. There was always a small chance of talking to Sunset for a few minutes, too. Any kind of interaction was better than nothing.

Beside the clock, Wallflower spotted a tiny stone, no larger than an acorn. She reached for it, her hand trembling a bit. She held it, rubbing her thumb over the spiral groove on its face. For all the damage the memory stone had done, all that was left was this dumb little pebble.

After turning the stone over in her hand a few times, Wallflower finally lurched herself up. She placed the stone back by the table and pulled on her sweater and jeans, then made her way towards the kitchen. Maybe she still had some cereal left.

Wallflower could feel her muscles tensing as she reached for the door to the cafeteria. Most of her classmates probably looked forward to their free hour to eat and socialize, but not her.

There would be so many people in there. It would be far too loud. It would be far too crowded. She would be better off getting something from the vending machine and eating outside, where no one could see her and the only sound would be the wind in the leaves.

It had been several hours since breakfast, and her stomach rumbled at the thought of a granola bar. She started down the hall towards the machine—only to remember that her wallet was as empty as her stomach. If she was going to eat anything, it was going to have to be one of the free peanut butter sandwiches in the cafeteria. The tax for her meal would be all the shouting jocks and chattering cheerleaders and eyes staring and people bumping into her as she stumbled through it all.

Resigning herself to hunger, Wallflower sighed and turned away from the cafeteria door. Maybe she would check the vending machine anyway. Maybe she would be lucky and find a snack someone paid for but somehow forgot to take. Maybe she would go home and shut the blinds and go to bed early, hoping the nightmare would spare her for just one evening.

“Wallflower?” someone behind her spoke.

Adrenaline sparked in her chest. “H-huh?” Wallflower turned and saw streaks of red and gold hair.

“Just me,” Sunset said, smiling. “Sorry, did I startle you?”

“No, it’s fine,” Wallflower said, turning her head away. “No big deal.”

“If you say so,” Sunset said. “So how’s it going?”

“Uhm... Fine, thanks.”

“I didn’t see you in the lunch line,” Sunset said. “Did you bring something from home?”

The momentary joy of being cared about was soured by another groan from Wallflower’s empty stomach. “I, uh, haven’t eaten anything, actually,” she said.

“Oh, well come on then,” Sunset said, gesturing towards the cafeteria. “There’s plenty of stuff left to pick from.”

“That’s okay,” Wallflower said, reflexively taking a step back. “I’m not very hungry.” She felt Sunset’s eyes studying her for a moment, and her muscles involuntarily tensed up again.

“Wallflower,” Sunset finally spoke. “I can tell something’s bothering you.” She stepped a little closer. Too close.

“Sorry,” Wallflower mumbled. She crossed her arms tightly, as if doing so would hide her from Sunset’s gaze. “I-I’m okay, really.”

“Alright, well I won't press you." Sunset gave her a genuine smile, which somehow only made Wallflower even more uncomfortable. "But if you ever need someone to listen, I’d be happy to, okay?”

“Okay.” Wallflower nodded, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Well I can’t let you just not eat anything,” Sunset said. “Wanna get something at the coffee shop down the street? It’s the end of our last semester anyway. Not like classes still matter at this point.”

“Oh, that sounds great!” Wallflower’s eyes lit up at the idea of hanging out with a friend. Then her memory caught up with her, and her face reddened. “But... I don’t have any money.”

“My treat then,” Sunset said.

Wallflower blinked. “Wha—for real?”

“For real.”

“Th-thanks! You’re the best, Sunset,” Wallflower said.

Sunset flipped her hair over her shoulder. “So I’ve been told.”

A few minutes of walking later, they were at the coffee shop. Wallflower had only been here a couple of times before, but in those visits she quickly learned that there was only one thing on the menu for her.

When they reached the counter, Sunset turned to Wallflower. “Pick out anything you want,” she said. “I got you covered.”

“In that case...” Wallflower turned to the barista. “One large double mocha frappuccino, please!”

Sunset laughed beside her. “You already had it picked out, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty filling and super good. Basically it’s like a chocolate milkshake with a fancy name,” Wallflower said.

“Hmmm, a chocolate milkshake, huh?” Sunset squinted at the menu. “I, uh, I think I’ll have one as well. It’s kinda warm out today, anyway.”

“Sure is,” Wallflower said. She wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her sweater as the two girls sat down at a table.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you wear anything but that sweater,” Sunset said. “Aren’t you hot in that thing?”

Wallflower shrugged. “I-I dunno,” she said. “I guess a little bit. It’s comfy, though.” In truth, the prospect of showing bare skin—even just from short sleeves—made her stomach turn.

“Do you not have comfortable summer clothes?” Sunset asked.

“I do! Just...” Wallflower looked away. She actually didn't, not that she wanted any. “I like this more.”

A server placed their drinks down on the table, and Sunset’s eyes went wide. “Oh man, that looks really good.”

“Right?” Wallflower smiled and brought the straw to her lips. “Mmmmmm... Dessert for lunch.”

“It’s the only way to live, honestly,” Sunset said, taking a sip of her own drink. “You were right, this is super yummy.”

“I can’t remember the last time I heard someone say the word ‘yummy.’”

Sunset tilted her head. “What's wrong with saying ‘yummy?’”

“Nothing!” Wallflower couldn't help but giggle. “Yummy’s funny, dummy!”

“Wallflower Blush, did you just make a joke?” Sunset waved a hand, grinning. “I’ll make a socialite out of you, yet.”

“Heh... Good luck,” Wallflower said.

Sunset excused herself to the restroom, and in the ensuing silence, Wallflower twirled the straw in her cup. Maybe this was what she’d been missing, she thought. Spending the afternoon with friends, sipping yummy drinks, having casual conversations about nothing... If only she had realized that sooner, maybe she wouldn’t have damaged her own life beyond repair.

Still, Sunset had told her she could tell her about anything. Would it be too much, though? Between her forgotten family, her impending homelessness and her sleepless nights of torment, Wallflower wouldn’t even know where to begin. Besides, when Sunset told her that, she was probably expecting to hear some silly teenager problem, not Wallflower's list of reasons for—

“Gonna finish that?”

A hand was on her shoulder. She shot up from her chair in an instant, knocking her drink over. As she pulled away, she saw Sunset, her blue eyes wide.

“I-I...” Wallflower stammered, unable to find words. Adrenaline pulsed through her body, flaring at the spot on her shoulder where Sunset had touched her. Other people in the coffee shop were now staring at her, and she could feel her body heating up beneath their glares.

Sunset’s expression fell from shock to concern, but before she could say anything, Wallflower was running for the door. The bell above it dinged as she pushed her way outside, her breaths heavy and punctuated with whimpers.

“Wallflower! Wait up!”

She turned to see Sunset coming up beside her, still holding her drink. For a moment Wallflower considered fleeing, but before she could move, Sunset was speaking again.

“What was that back there?” Sunset asked. “I thought we were getting along well. Did I do something wrong?”

“W-what?” Wallflower was taken aback. How could Sunset blame herself for that? She wasn’t the one who freaked out over nothing.

“You can be honest with me,” Sunset said. “Is this... Is this about what happened with the memory stone?”

“N-no!” Wallflower could feel the pressure of tears behind her eyes. “I mean... Yeah, I still feel really awful about all that, but it’s okay.”

Sunset didn’t answer, and the silence left Wallflower squirming with trepidation. “I just d-don’t like people being behind me,” she said. “It’s not a big deal, really.”

“We never talked about what happened,” Sunset said.

“We...” Wallflower blinked. “Y-yeah. We never did.”

“I can tell it's still bothering you,” Sunset said. Wallflower could hear the slightest wavering in her voice. “I think talking about it might make you feel better.”

In that moment, Wallflower wished she could just disappear. She didn’t like saying no to people. It almost always led to conflict, and she hated conflict.

“If you’re okay with it, I mean,” Sunset said.

“Uhh...” She really, really didn’t want to do this, but Sunset did. What kind of friend would she be if she said no? Besides if she was going to be gone in a few weeks anyway, what did it matter?

“Wallflower?”

Wallflower took a deep breath. “Y-yeah,” she said. “Yeah. We can talk about it.”

Wallflower fiddled with her keys as she and Sunset stopped in front of her apartment’s door. “It's not much,” she said.

Sunset didn’t reply, and her continued silence was only widening the pit in Wallflower’s stomach. As the door opened, she looked at Wallflower as if wordlessly asking permission.

“So, uh... Here we are,” Wallflower said, motioning to Sunset. “You can come in.”

They stepped inside the apartment. Following the muscle memory of a hundred dreary afternoons, Wallflower unceremoniously plopped down on the stiff blue couch by the door. She watched as Sunset took a moment to observe the tiny room.

The only color in the room was a line of plants by the door. Four round pots were overflowing with thin coils of vines and leaves, and the greenery was decorated by dozens of pink and purple flowers. They sat on a dark wooden shelf turned lengthwise that leaned against pasty white walls. Sunset lightly held a petal between her thumb and forefinger, as if admiring the softness of the flower.

“Morning glories,” she said.

Wallflower perked up, surprised. “I didn’t know you knew flower names.”

“Only a few.” Sunset released the flower, and it fell back into place among the vines. “Just the ones I’ve seen in your garden.”

“If only I put as much effort into my home,” Wallflower stifled a laugh.

“It’s cozy,” Sunset said.

“It’s cramped.”

“To be honest, I didn’t know you lived on your own,” Sunset said. “I thought I was the only one in our class with her own place.”

“Yeah, well...” Wallflower stared at the carpet, and a shaky nervousness started creeping through her limbs. “That’s probably a good place to start.”

“Alright.” Sunset gave her a soft smile. She sat beside Wallflower on the couch. “ Whenever you’re ready.”

For a few moments, Wallflower took deep breath after deep breath, trying to psych herself up to talk. She saw Sunset lean forward a bit, and finally forced herself to speak.

“You asked earlier if I was still bothered by what happened with the stone,” Wallflower said. “And I am, to be sure. That whole thing was awful, and I was really awful for doing it, and—”

“Hey, Wallflower?” Sunset interrupted her.

“Y-yeah?”

“Whatever it is you have to say, I’d like you to say it without insulting yourself,” Sunset said. “It’s something a friend taught me, and it makes it a lot easier to talk about bad things without feeling bad.”

Wallflower wasn’t really sure how to respond. Degrading herself was certainly something she did, especially in her own head, yet until now she had never really thought about it as something to avoid. “Uh... Y-yeah,” she said. “I’ll try.”

Sunset smiled. “That’s all I ask.”

“Okay, so...” Wallflower closed her eyes. “Yes, I still feel bad about what happened. But that’s not what you saw earlier.” She looked at Sunset, and the brief moment of eye contact make her stomach flip. “W-what you’ve been seeing for a while now...”

“Are you okay with telling me what it is, then?” Sunset asked.

“It’s really... Nnnnghh...” Wallflower groaned, and she curled her legs to her chest. “This is gonna be really hard to do without saying anything bad about myself.”

Sunset nodded. “I know, Wallflower. It’s still difficult for me too, thinking back on everything I’ve done.”

After a few more deep breaths, Wallflower continued. “I used the stone for a lot of things. Any time I needed something—food, groceries, anything—I could just take it and make people forget anything happened.”

She braved a glance at Sunset, expecting to see disgust and anger. When she instead saw the same expression of attentive concern, she blinked in surprise. “You’re not mad?”

Sunset shook her head. “I’m here to listen, not to judge.” She shrugged, a sheepish grin on her face. “Besides, I’m no saint either, right?”

“Still, though,” Wallflower said. “For months I was stealing and lying, using that stupid rock to get away with it all. That’s pretty bad, no matter how you look at it.”

“Doing bad things doesn’t make you a bad person,” Sunset said.

Yeah, well...” Wallflower hid her face again. “Stealing frozen meals and cereal from the store is one thing.” Tears stung her eyes as she spoke. “Stealing memories is another entirely.”

“There’s certainly a moral argument against it,” Sunset said. “And, it could have been a lot worse.”

Wallflower lowered her head. “I made my parents forget me.”

“...Ah.” Sunset looked around the room. “So that’s why you have this apartment,” she said, then paused as if carefully choosing her words. “Were your parents, uhm...”

“They’re very religious,” Wallflower said. “We didn’t see eye-to-eye on something really important, so as soon as I had the chance to leave, I took it.”

“I mean, that’s not the worst thing in the world,” Sunset said. “Maybe I’m just not very sentimental about parent stuff, but the way I see it, you did what was best for you.”

“Funny you say that,” Wallflower sighed. “I didn’t feel guilty about it at first. It was what was best for me, when I still had the stone. But after it was broken, I finally realized just how selfish and stupid I was.”

“What do you mean?” Sunset asked.

“It was just another escape,” Wallflower said. “Rather than trying to work things out at home, or sticking through it for a few more years, I ran away. I wiped their memories of their own daughter and just left them. And now I can’t go back...”

Sunset looked away, staring at nothing as if entirely lost in thought. Wallflower briefly wondered what she was thinking about, then continued.

“I found this little apartment,” she said, “and used the stone to fool the landlord every month so I never had to pay rent.” After a moment, Wallflower saw the realization dawning on Sunset’s face.

“But now that you don’t have the stone...”

“Now that I don’t, I c-can’t stay here anymore.” Wallflower trembled beneath the weight of so many stressful weeks. For so long, she had been telling herself exactly what she was telling Sunset now, and yet something about saying it out loud was causing her voice to crack. As it did, the words began to rush out, like she had turned on a faucet only for an unstoppable waterfall to spew forth.

“I can’t go back to my parents—they don’t even know me anymore.” Wallflower wiped the tears from her face. “I-I’m gonna lose my home, and I hardly have anything to eat and I’m so, so tired, all the t-time...”

She looked to Sunset, who was sitting beside her in silence. After a shaky inhale, she continued.

“I-I... I have nightmares,” she said. “The same one, every time I try to sleep. For w-weeks now, I don’t even know h-how long. B-blood and tears and I c-can never breathe or move or e-even scream, and...” Her breathing shuddered as she recalled the end of her dream. “This awful pain—so bad I think I’m gonna die—and I always w-w-wake up exhausted, and it happens every night...”

“That sounds really scary,” Sunset said. In her eyes, Wallflower found a sincerity that urged her to reveal the awful truth of it all.

“Every morning, I lie in bed, s-staring at the ceiling, too scared to go back to sleep.” Wallflower buried her face in her hands. “I think about the nightmares, I think about the guilt, I think about w-what’s gonna happen to me...”

“Wallflower...”

“I’m so tired of it, Sunset,” she said, her voice getting softer with every word. “I’m so tired, all the time. I just want it all to stop...”

Sunset moved to place her hand on Wallflower’s shoulder, only for Wallflower to flinch and jerk away.

“S-sorry,” Wallflower stammered. ”I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s alright,” Sunset said. “It’s my fault. I got so caught up and completely forgot.”

Wallflower stood up, her arms slamming down at her sides. “Stop doing that!”

Sunset looked genuinely confused. “Doing what?” she asked.

“You’re just trying to be nice, but I keep ruining it and then you act like you did something wrong!” Wallflower’s entire body shook as her eyes watered again. “It’s not fair!”

Sunset slowly got up, standing before Wallflower. “Y’know what I think?”

Fear gripped Wallflower’s heart. “What...?”

“I think you’re not being fair to yourself,” Sunset said. “You’re under so much pressure, Wallflower. Of course you’re anxious, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“But I put myself in this position,” Wallflower said. “It’s all my fault!”

Sunset shook her head. “It doesn’t matter who’s at fault. What matters is doing something about it.”

“I can’t, don’t you get it?” Wallflower screamed. “I can’t do anything! I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t even think!”

“I never said you had to do it alone,” Sunset said.

“Wha—” Wallflower’s voice caught in her throat. “No! No, don’t waste—no, this was stupid. This whole thing w-was stupid.” She fell back onto the couch, whimpering.

Sunset knelt on the carpet beside her. “It’s not a waste of time to help a friend,” she said.

Wallflower couldn’t even bring herself to look up. She curled into a ball, hiding her face. “I-it’s a waste of time to help someone like me,” she said, her voice muffled by her sweater sleeves. “Someone terrible.”

“Wallflower, you’re not terrible,” Sunset said.

Wallflower’s voice dropped. “I can prove it.”

“You really, really can’t,” Sunset said. “Trust me. I’ve known some terrible people, and you aren’t one of them.”

Wallflower stood up, wiping the tears from her eyes. In complete silence, she shuffled across the tiny apartment and into her bedroom. There, beside the clock on the bedside table, she found the evidence she was looking for.

She walked back to Sunset and opened her hand, revealing the fragment of the memory stone. “If I’m not a bad person, then why did I keep this?”

Sunset said nothing as she stared at the little rock. Slowly, she reached out, lifting it from Wallflower’s open hand. As she did, Wallflower saw the faintest blue glow within the stone’s spiral etching. Sunset ran a thumb over the stone fragment and another glow intensified, this one a deep orange from Sunset’s necklace.

“Can you... Can you hear that?” Sunset said, never taking her eyes off the stone.

“N-no,” Wallflower said. “What’s going on?”

Sunset looked up, her expression unreadable. “There are still some memories trapped in here.”

“What?” Wallflower blinked. “I thought you said they were gone for good after three days.”

“I thought they were too,” Sunset said. “Breaking the stone didn’t free them, but maybe... Maybe after three days, they were just trapped, but not unreachable.” She lightly held the glowing gem on her necklace. “This geode lets me see other people’s memories. I’m not sure, but I think I can use it to let them out...”

Wallflower could only stare in disbelief. If this shard still had memories, and if Sunset could somehow release them...

“Is it all of them? All the ones I took?” she asked.

“I can’t really tell,” Sunset said. “If I had to guess, it’ll only be a fraction of them. But if this works, we would just have to find the other shards and—”

“We could bring everyone’s memories back,” Wallflower finished. “Even my parents...” If her parents remembered her, she could go home. Maybe she’d feel less awful, having set things right. Maybe the nightmares would even stop.

“Sunset, you have to do this.” Wallflower was a bit surprised by her own determination.

“I can’t promise this’ll work,” Sunset said. “And just to be clear, I’d like to finish our conversation.”

“After this!”

“Of course, of course,” Sunset said. “Alright, I’m going to try...”

Wallflower’s heart was racing. In the span of a minute, her entire life had been turned on its head, again. With Sunset’s help, she could fix this. She could have her life back. She could finally be free of the constant stress and hunger and anxiety. She held her breath as Sunset closed her eyes. When they opened again they were gleaming brighter than either of the stones she was holding.

Then, with a blinding blue flash, a colorful ribbon flew out from the stone’s spiral. It swirled above Sunset for several seconds, and then shot off, seeking out who it belonged to. Wallflower’s eyes lit up with the ethereal glow of ribbon after ribbon, a smile widening on her face as her sins were undone before her.

Another ribbon, tinged with a verdant radiance, rose from the stone.

“It’s working! Sunset, it’s working!”

The green ribbon spun around Sunset’s head, only to slow to a near-stop. Wallflower didn’t notice as it pivoted until its edges were aimed squarely at her.

“Mom... D-Dad...” Wallflower’s voice was the softest whisper. “Please be in there...”

Then, the ribbon burst forth and vanished between Wallflower’s eyes.

“Gah!” Wallflower stumbled. “Wha...”

At last, the glow in Sunset’s eyes began to fade. She sighed and turned to Wallflower, a smile on her face. “I think it—Wallflower?”

“Nnnnghh...” Wallflower shut her eyes. Images flashed in her mind—someone grunting, someone crying, someone lying on their back.

She started screaming.

“Wallflower!” Sunset was beside her in an instant. “What’s wrong? Wallflower!”

“I don’t want to...” Wallflower cried out, grabbing Sunset by the shoulders. “Stop it! P-please, Sunset, I don’t—!”

Suffocation. Blood and tears. Terror enveloping her entire being.

Wallflower screamed again, clutching her head. Tears stained her face as she collapsed to the floor.

“I... I...” Sunset looked completely stunned. She wasn’t going to help her. She couldn’t help her. Wallflower shut her eyes again, and she saw a face.

His face.

“No no n-no no no!” Tears blinded her as she looked up, trembling. “S-Sunset, please, I don't want to...!”

Wallflower saw Sunset drop down. She saw her holding a hand just above her own, paralyzed in trepidation. After a moment, she felt Sunset lightly touch her wrist.

Sunset’s eyes went white, and the world disappeared.

II - Out of Control

Author's Note

CONTENT WARNING
This chapter contains a graphic depiction of sexual assault.

II - Out of Control

“I’ll walk you to your door,” he said.

“Oh, I mean, you don’t have to,” Wallflower mumbled. She bit her lip as he stepped out of the car anyway.

“It’s no problem,” he said.

“...Y-yeah.”

She moved to her apartment door in silence, and he followed behind her the whole way. She could feel his eyes on her as they reached the door. She gripped her key in her hand, waiting for him to go.

“Since I’m here, I gotta use the bathroom.” He shrugged. “Drank a lot of punch at the dance, I guess.”

“The bathroom?" Wallflower blinked. He just stood there, staring at her expectantly. She wanted to tell him to leave, but she didn’t like confrontation, even over something this small. “Okay,” she said.

Wallflower turned the key, and he pushed past her into the apartment. She stood in the doorway for a moment, then walked in with a sigh. After placing her keys and handbag on the shelf, she plopped down on to the couch. Across the room, she could see the bathroom door was closed. She wished he’d hurry up so she could be alone. Maybe she’d erase the whole night so he wouldn’t talk to her at school next week.

She heard the toilet flush and mentally scolded herself for letting him use it. Wallflower didn’t think of herself as a germaphobe, but she was definitely going to spray the seat down a few times. The sink’s faucet creaked on and off, and Wallflower tensed up as the bathroom door opened.

“Thanks,” he said as he walked out of the bathroom, drying his hands on his pants. “Nice apartment.”

Wallflower didn’t reply. She just wanted him to leave, and engaging in conversation would only prolong that.

“So you live alone?”

Wallflower nodded. “Mhmm.” She stared at the door, then back at him, then back at the door, hoping he’d take the hint.

“That’s pretty cool,” he said. When Wallflower didn’t respond, he sat beside her on the couch.

Her muscles tensed up on their own. “Uhh...”

Her voice died in her throat when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

“Wha—!” Wallflower pulled away. “W-what are you doing?”

“Huh?” He looked confused for a second, then smirked. “C’mon, we’re dates to a high school dance.”

He didn’t even dance with her. He just talked with his friends while she sat in the corner the whole—wait.

Wallflower's heart stopped.

He didn’t mean...

Her question was answered when he put his hand on her again. Before she could react, he had pushed her on her back. The stale blue cushions shifted beneath her.

He crawled over her, and his hands were on her again. He pulled off the straps of her dress so hard that one of them broke. A chill ran over her shoulders, and she finally snapped back to reality.

“G-get off me!” Her voice cracked, and he only laughed in return. She tried to push him off, but he was too heavy.

He leaned over her. “Seriously? You went to a dance with me then invited me in. What did you think was gonna happen?”

“I-I...” Wallflower’s mind was entirely frozen over. He was wrong. Right? Did she do that? No, she wouldn’t have. But she did go to the dance with him. Did she invite him in? She never told him no. Was that the same thing?

“Look, this is just normal,” he said. “Trust me, you’re gonna like it.”

He pulled down the top of her dress, exposing her undergarments. Her face burned as she wriggled beneath him, unable to move at all. She couldn’t look away as he grabbed her and touched her and squeezed her.

Her whimpers of protest died when she saw his face. Within his look of excitement, Wallflower saw a lustful desire that terrified her to her core. He wanted this, and he wasn’t going to stop if she told him to. She had no way to make him stop at all. He was bigger than her, stronger than her—he could hurt her, if he wanted. He would, if she kept fighting.

Wallflower gasped as he pulled the cups of her bra over her chest, and again when his hands returned to her bare skin. Every second he was on her, he pressed his weight down harder and harder. As he fondled and played with her body, she tried her hardest to look away. In her periphery, she saw her door.

She just wanted him to leave. If she let him do what he wanted, then he’d leave.

He tightly gripped her breasts, and she stifled a sob. If she screamed for help, he would hurt her. If she tried to fight him, he would hurt her even more. What else could she do but just wait for it to be over? He was too heavy, and she was too weak. There was nothing she could do.

Wallflower went entirely limp, even as she felt his fingers gripping the bottom hem of her dress. He tried to pull it down, but the dress bunched up around her hips. After a pause, she heard the sound of tearing fabric and felt the chill of cold air on her exposed legs.

She couldn’t stop him. He was going to take her, and she couldn’t stop him. A sob caught in her throat as tears stung her eyes. She agreed to go to the dance. She let him in. She never told him to leave. This was happening because she was too scared and stupid to say no.

Wallflower flinched as he slid his thumb beneath the lining of her panties. She wanted to scream for help, to kick and bite and thrash until he left her alone. But if she tried to, he would hurt her. He might even kill her. So instead she lay there, quietly sobbing as he pulled off the last piece of clothing protecting her. She heard the sound of his belt buckle coming undone, and the second she saw what was beneath, she twisted her head away, shutting her eyes as tight as she could.

She held her breath as his hands firmly gripped her by the waist. She whimpered when she felt it touch her. Tears streamed down her face, and her entire body shivered as he slid the tip of it over her.

Then she was torn open.

It hurt. It hurt more than anything she’d felt in her entire life. Wallflower cried out as the agonizing feeling pushed into her, like she was being ripped apart from the inside. He said something she couldn’t hear. Blood and fluid trickled down the inside of her thighs as he pulled back—only to stab into her again. Every time he pushed forward, the pain inside her was renewed. Wallflower tensed up again and again as her body screamed at the thing invading it.

This was her fault. She let this happen. Even now, she wasn’t fighting. But if she did, he would kill her. Maybe that would be a good thing.

Then, for a moment, he stopped. Wallflower opened her eyes, only to see that he had re-positioned himself over her. He pressed his entire weight down on her, so much so that she couldn’t breathe. Her sobbing and whimpering devolved into desperate gasps, each one punctuated by a bolt of agony at the end of his thrusts.

The air was hot and stale and smelled of sweat and blood. As his hips slammed into her again and again, another scent filled her lungs, and it made her gag. The reflex denied her a lung-full of air, and her diaphragm spasmed, twisting with pain.

She was going to die here. He was going to suffocate her without even knowing.

Wallflower could feel herself slipping into dizziness, and she welcomed the sensation. If she passed out, this would be over. Even if she died, it was worth it. She closed her eyes and waited for unconsciousness to—

A spark flared inside her, and her eyes shot open. He had moved around again, pulling her legs over the arm of the couch. He pushed into her again, and within the torturous stabbing, the spark lit, and her sobs twisted into a gasp.

Another thrust, and she felt it again. And again. Each time, it smoldered and burned for a little longer and pulled her further and further away from the unconsciousness she so desperately needed.

She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to feel this. This was worse than the pain.

Wallflower tried to hold her breath, hoping to make herself pass out—only to have the air forced out of her lungs by the growing sensation inside her. He was stabbing into her harder and harder, and her body reacted against her will.

Her labored breaths came in sync with his accelerating thrusts. With every movement, the piercing agony he had spread through her sank further beneath the other feeling as her body worked to mask the pain. Wallflower could only stare at the ceiling, dazed and trembling, as he kept slamming himself inside her as hard as he could.

She shut her eyes, praying for the feeling to go away, for the pain to return, for anything but what he was making her do. Her body responded by shivering involuntarily, and as it did, the sensation within her intensified. She felt it spreading to her thighs, then her hips, forcing them to tense up as the fire burned within her.

He grunted, and stabbed into her one last time. Wallflower could feel his heartbeat as he tensed and twitched inside her. She whimpered as she felt him release, polluting her insides and filling her with a horrible warmth and wetness that forced her over the edge. The sensation in her lower body swelled and intensified before cascading through her entirety, drawing out a breathless gasp. Tears filled her eyes as she shuddered beneath him, unable to prevent herself from crying out. Time slowed to a crawl, and her core convulsed and radiated with pleasure.

She hated every second of it.

The feeling smoldered as he slowly moved in and out of her a few more times, leaving her exhausted and trembling. Only once he pulled out of her completely did Wallflower fall motionless, her breathing heavy. He started to say something, but she couldn't hear him. Her mind was too busy forcing her to admit what she had been trying to ignore.

She agreed to the dance. She let him into her apartment. She never told him to leave.

She felt really good at the end.

She hated it. She hated herself for going to the dance, for letting him in, for not saying no. She hated him for making her feel good, and she hated herself for letting him. She hated that she felt it at all. She hated that she knew what it was and what it meant, and she hated that she couldn’t bring herself to say the word, not even in her own mind.

There was a sound. A door closing. Wallflower blinked and looked up.

He was gone. He was finally gone.

For a few minutes, all Wallflower could do was lie there in silence. She stared at the ceiling, listening to the shaky sound of her own breaths. Try as she might, she couldn't ignore the awful heat of what he had left behind inside her. It slowly dribbled out of her, and she coughed out a single sob as nausea settled in her stomach. The smell lingered, and goosebumps rippled over her still-exposed skin.

Then she started crying. Heavy, broken sobs cut through every shallow breath as hot tears streamed from her eyes. How could she have let this happen? How could she have been so stupid? It was just like he told her. They were dates to a high school dance. What did she think was going to happen?

Her cries grew louder and more erratic. She didn’t want to live with this. She wished he had killed her. What would Mom and Dad think of her?

A lump caught in her throat when she realized they would never think of her again. To them, she would just be some stranger, some stupid whore who didn't know any better. Their own daughter meant nothing to them because she had erased herself from their minds.

Wallflower blinked. She slowly sat up, trembling. Her entire body was sore, her hips and thighs aching the worst. She didn’t want to stand up, but she didn’t want to remember this.

Leaning against the wall, she stumbled towards the table by the door where she had left her handbag. Viscous drops of his fluid continued to trickle out of her, running down her leg alongside trails of her own blood, tickling her skin and deepening the nauseous pit in her stomach. When at last she reached her bag, she opened it and pulled out her solution.

The memory stone had been able to solve all her problems. Maybe it could solve this one, too.

Her entire lower body was screaming at her to stop moving, so she fell against the wall, sliding to the floor. Her breathing was shaky as she stared at the unblinking eye etched into the stone.

She didn’t want to live with this. She couldn’t live with this. It would be best if she just forgot about it entirely.

Wallflower closed her eyes, willing the stone to purge her mind of anything and everything that could remind her of this. It lit up with a familiar blue glow, its eye staring into her. She held her breath, and—

Wallflower’s eyes opened. She saw the glow in Sunset’s eyes vanish, only to be replaced by tears.

“Oh Goddess...” Sunset whispered. “Wallflower, y-you...”

Wallflower’s breathing was sharp and shallow. A sob cracked her voice when she tried to speak, and then another, and then another. Her cries grew too heavy, and she broke beneath their weight.

Sunset caught her, but Wallflower didn’t flinch. Her trembling wails were muffled by Sunset’s jacket as she screamed into her friend’s shoulder, unable to escape the torment of her memories.

III - Difficulty Trusting Others

For the first time in ages, Sunset Shimmer had no idea how to help a friend.

She and Wallflower sat on the soft carpeted floor of Wallflower’s apartment. Every once in a while, she would hear a whimper or hiccup from Wallflower, but otherwise the girl was entirely silent. Sunset gazed across the room at nothing, trying to make sense of what she had seen in Wallflower’s mind, and what she could do about it.

She didn’t recognize the boy who had attacked Wallflower, although she had no idea what she’d do if she found him. He had mentioned a dance, and the Spring Fling had been the most recent one. If that’s when it happened, then it had only been a little over a month ago, just before Sunset’s friends had their memories of her erased.

She glanced over at Wallflower, who was staring half-lidded at the floor. Between her lashing out at Sunset and what she had said about nightmares, it seemed as though the trauma of that night had stayed with her, even after she had erased her memory of being...

Sunset shook her head. Even in her mind, she was uncomfortable saying the word. She couldn’t imagine how Wallflower was feeling right now.

With a heavy sigh, Sunset checked her the time on her phone. It was getting late and decisions needed to be made. There was no way she could leave Wallflower alone tonight, not after what she had just seen. Beyond the horrible things that must be going through her friend’s mind, Sunset needed to be sure Wallflower was safe, especially from herself.

“Hey,” Sunset said, her voice barely above a whisper. “How are you feeling?”

Wallflower didn’t respond. She didn’t even move. Sunset shifted around, turning to face her friend.

“I, uh...” Sunset paused. She wasn’t sure if there was a right thing to say, but she needed to choose her words carefully all the same. “Do you want me to stay over tonight?”

Wallflower barely turned her face. She shook her head.

Sunset sighed. “I can’t just leave,” she said. “I mean, if it were me, I’d want—” She caught herself and fell silent. She shouldn’t be assuming what Wallflower wanted. “I can’t even imagine how awful it must have been,” she said.

Wallflower’s reddened eyes glared at her. “Yes you can.”

Sunset blinked. “What? I mean—”

“You saw it,” Wallflower said, her voice coarse from crying. “You saw him fuck me.”

“W-Wallflower!”

Wallflower pulled her legs in, curling them to her chest. “Go home, Sunset.”

“What? I—No!” Sunset scooted so she was in front of Wallflower. “You really shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Wallflower looked away. “Why?”

“I need to know you’re safe.” Sunset lifted her hand, then pulled away.

“You think I’ll kill myself,” Wallflower said. Her bluntness left Sunset a little more than uneasy.

“The possibility occurred to me, yeah,” Sunset said.

“Go home, Sunset.”

Sunset felt her heart drop. “Wallflower...”

“Go home.”

“N-no!” Sunset stood up. Her mind was racing with images of Wallflower, pinned on the couch, crying and gasping. “There’s no way I’m just—just going to walk out after this!” Sunset’s voice caught in her throat, and she turned away.

Behind her, Wallflower spoke, her voice cold. “This is your fault.”

Sunset froze.

Wallflower stood up, leaning against the wall. “You made me remember.” Wallflower’s voice cracked, and she started shouting. “It’s your fault, Sunset! You put that th-thing back in my head, and now I c-can’t make it go away and—and it’s your fault!”

Sunset couldn’t bring herself to look at Wallflower. Tears blurred her vision as she stared at the couch, at the spot where Wallflower had been while he assaulted her. It was her fault, wasn’t it? She had released that memory. She had forced her friend to remember, to relive that horror all over again.

Sunset steadied her breathing. That wasn’t true. She may have released the memory from the stone, but she was not to blame for its existence. “I’m not leaving you here alone,” she said.

“W-would you just...” Wallflower gave Sunset a light shove. “Get out! Get out of my—out of my h-head...!” She stumbled back against the wall and slid down to the floor, her entire body heaving as she cried.

“Wallflower, I... I can’t.” Sunset knelt beside her. “I can’t make it go away, as much as I wish I could.” She sighed as she saw Wallflower’s tear-stained face. “And I can’t leave you.”

Wallflower didn’t respond. She sniffed, hiding her face behind her long hair.

“I’ll stay the night here, okay?” Sunset tried her best to smile.

“I-I don’t want to stay here,” Wallflower whispered, still looking away.

“Hmm?”

“It was r-right over there,” she said, glancing at the couch. “Where he... H-he...”

“Shhh.” Sunset sat against the wall beside her. “It’s alright. You can stay with me.”

Wallflower finally looked up, and her soft brown eyes were a mix of every emotion there was. Sunset held her hand out. “Okay?”

A whimper escaped Wallflower’s lips, and then another. After a moment, she touched her hand to Sunset’s, nodding. Her cries grew heavier, until she was sobbing again, and she leaned her head against Sunset’s shoulder.

They stayed there for a while, tucked against the wall as the sky grew darker and darker out the window. Sunset sighed, resting her head on Wallflower’s. She felt Wallflower squeeze her hand, and their fingers laced together.

“You can have the bed,” Sunset said as she opened the door to her apartment. “The couch is plenty comfy for me.”

Wallflower shuffled in behind her, keeping her head down. “Okay.”

Sunset closed the door behind them, locking it. Wallflower seemed to relax a bit as she looked around the room, but she didn’t say anything.

“Are you hungry?” Sunset asked.

“No, thank you.”

Sunset made her way to the fridge. “You haven’t had anything since the coffee shop,” she said. “I’ve got some carrots, if you want a light snack.”

Again, Wallflower shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“Alright, well...” Sunset pulled out the bag of baby carrots. “I’m gonna munch on these. Feel free to have some.”

“Mhm.”

The two of them sat on the couch, and Sunset rubbed the back of her head. “So the kitchen and bathroom are down here on the bottom floor, the bed’s up on the loft, and, uhhh...” She glanced over at Wallflower, who was lying back against the couch cushions, and immediately realized she wasn’t listening.

“Wallflower?” Sunset put her snack down. “Can you, uhm... Can you promise me something?”

Wallflower sat up a bit. She briefly made eye contact with Sunset, then she turned away without a word.

With a sigh, Sunset continued. “This is going to be really, really hard. And it’s going to be hard for a long time. There are going to be a lot of moments where you don’t want to keep going, and...”

Wallflower sat up again, and Sunset realized she had her attention. She took a deep breath. “Just, if you ever feel like that, like you want to... To hurt yourself, or to g-give up...” Sunset let out a shuddering exhale. “Promise that you’ll talk to me first, okay?”

Sunset watched her friend, looking for any sign of an answer in Wallflower’s empty eyes. She had seen her go from completely blank to screaming to nothing in just the short time since the memory returned. Sunset needed to be sure, despite those ups and downs, that Wallflower would refrain from doing something she couldn’t take back.

When Wallflower nodded, Sunset realized she had been holding her breath. She heaved a sigh. “Thank you,” she said. She reached for her carrots when she heard Wallflower tentatively speak up.

“Uhm...”

“Yes?”

Wallflower stared at the food in Sunset’s hand. “Can I have one?”

Sunset smiled. “Of course,” she said. “In fact, you can have more than one.”

IV - Derealization

Wallflower rolled back and forth on the mattress, her eyes wide open. As completely exhausted as she was, she could not allow herself to fall asleep. Suffering through the nightmares just wasn’t worth it.

She flipped back over, the comforter bunching up as she did, bunching up like her dress had that night, right before he ripped it open—right before he ripped her open.

“Mmmph...” Groaning, Wallflower buried her face in the pillow. She couldn’t keep thinking about that, otherwise she would never be able to... To what, sleep? She didn’t even want to sleep.

On the couch below, Sunset was snoring just loud enough to be heard up on the loft. Wallflower frowned. It must be nice to be able to sleep like that. If she lay on her side with her ear to the pillow, Sunset’s snores almost sounded like his grunts as he—

“Gahh!” Wallflower lifted her head and slammed it back into the pillow, whimpering. She couldn’t ignore this. The memory was in her now, and there was nothing she could do about it. There was no escaping it, no fighting it, no erasing it. All she could do was wait for it to be over. Her breathing faltered when she realized a horrible truth—it would never be over. Anything and everything was going to remind her of it, every single day, for the rest of her life.

If there was no use fighting it, she may as well let it have her. Trying to ignore it was only making her more exhausted, and she had quite a few hours to go before the sun came up. With a shaky sigh, Wallflower allowed herself to succumb to the memories, letting them drag her back to that spot on the couch where he had taken her.

She frowned, shifting beneath the comforter. No, that wasn’t right. There was no reason to be prudish about it now, so why bother calling it anything other than what it was? She’d said it earlier to Sunset, so why was now any different? At the time, something about the bluntness of the word had made Wallflower feel a little better, but only for a moment. She slammed her head on the pillow again.

She never screamed or fought or called for help, not when he pushed her over or even when he ripped her clothes off. She gave in the second she got scared, just like she always did, and now she was paying the price for it. He probably didn’t even realize anything was wrong, because she was too scared and stupid to say anything.

She cried out and thrashed around on the mattress, kicking the comforter off the bed entirely.

“Can’t sleep?”

Wallflower squinted as the lamp beside her turned on. Sunset was standing beside the bed, rubbing her eyes and still wearing the clothes from the day before. Her hair was an absolute mess as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t want to,” Wallflower said, her voice low.

Sunset pulled her legs up onto the mattress, sitting cross-legged. “Is it the nightmares?” she asked.

Wallflower could only nod.

Sunset stared at her with those deep blue eyes. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Wallflower looked away. “What?”

“Who was he?”

Sunset’s question left Wallflower frozen like a deer in headlights. If Sunset wanted to know who he was, that meant she would want to find him, and if she did, Wallflower would probably see him again. Nothing frightened her more.

“I don’t want to talk about him,” she said.

Sunset’s expression didn’t change at all. “Why not?” she asked.

“Why not—?” Wallflower face reddened as she threw her hands up. “Why do you think, Sunset?!”

“Wallflower.” Sunset’s voice was as soft and patient as always. “I just want to understand.”

“I want you to understand!” Wallflower snapped back. “I never want to s-see him again!”

Sunset nodded, unflinching. “And that’s okay. I promise I won’t go looking for him unless you want me to.”

“Yes you will. If not you, then one of your friends,” Wallflower droned.

“I'm being honest, Wallflower,” Sunset sighed. “I’m sure it feels near-impossible to trust anyone right now, but please, please believe me when I say I will not share a word of this to anyone.”

Wallflower pressed herself against the headrest, her breathing ragged. Just like with him, just like with her memories of that night, there was no escaping this conversation.

“You don’t even have to say his name,” Sunset said. “Just... I need to know what happened. I’m afraid that if I don’t, I may accidentally say or do something that really hurts you.”

Wallflower crossed her arms. “He... He was just some jerk I barely even knew,” she said. “He asked me to the Spring Fling, a-and—I don't even like guys, but I guess I figured I could make myself more 'normal,' and I-I’d never been asked to anything before, let alone a dance.” Wallflower closed her eyes with a shivering sigh. “I should’ve known what h-he...”

“Shhh, hey.” Sunset scooted closer to her. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is my fault!” Wallflower shouted, tears stinging her eyes. “I said yes to the dance, I let him into my home!”

Sunset opened her mouth to interject, but Wallflower silenced her with another scream. “I let him have me! I never even...” She balled herself up, hugging the pillow as cries broke through her words. “I never s-said no...”

“You never said yes.”

"Sunset—"

Sunset kept speaking, her voice as steady as ever. “And you told him to get off you, you tried—”

“Would you shut up?!” Wallflower threw the pillow as hard as she could at Sunset, who effortlessly caught it and put it down beside her. Wallflower immediately fell forward, whimpering out words between heaving sobs. “H-he... I n-never fought him, Sunset. Not once he started t-to...”

“You were scared, Wallflower,” Sunset said.

“I-I was, yeah. I was scared.” Wallflower held her chest, trying to take deep breaths. “But I still should’ve done something. I didn’t even try, n-not even when he... He...”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“Why not?” Wallflower said between sobs.

“Because it’ll hurt,” Sunset said. “It’s a horrible word, and a horrible thing to do to someone.”

Wallflower wiped her eyes. “I deserved it,” she said. “I was stupid enough to—”

“You are not stupid, Wallflower,” Sunset said firmly. “And no one deserves to go through that.”

“Deserves what?” Wallflower couldn’t bring herself to look at Sunset. “Getting fucked?”

That made Sunset stiffen up a bit. After a beat, she spoke up again. “I feel like you’re using that word to make it seem like this isn’t a big deal.”

“It really isn’t. People get fucked all the time.” Even as she tried to sound apathetic, Wallflower felt her skin crawl.

“Wallflower, you...” Sunset moved so Wallflower was looking at her. “You know this wasn’t that kind of thing. What he did to you...”

Wallflower knew what Sunset was about to say, and her stomach dropped.

“It was rape,” Sunset said, her voice breathless.

“No.”

“I know it’s an awful thing to hear,” Sunset said, “but you have to be honest with yourself about what happened.”

“It wasn’t that.” Wallflower shook her head.

“He forced himself on you, Wallflower.”

“That—no!” Wallflower turned away, her face burning. “That d-doesn’t make it...” Her words died on her lips as she shut her eyes tight, crossing her arms.

“Wallflower...” Sunset still sounded so calm, and Wallflower couldn't stand it. “You were crying. I saw it.”

“Yeah, y-you did,” Wallflower said. “And what else did you see?”

Sunset looked confused. “What else?”

“I was crying. And then I...” Wallflower whispered into the air so quietly that she could barely hear herself. “Then I was gasping, and shaking a-and...”

She felt Sunset move beside her. “Wallflower, that wasn’t—”

"I didn't want to, Sunset..." She hugged herself, whimpering. "I-I didn't want to, but it happened anyway..."

Sunset didn't reply, and Wallflower could hardly blame her. There was nothing she could say that would help.

“If it was what you said it was...” Wallflower’s eyes lost focus as she stared at the wall, shuddering as she remembered the smoldering sensation that had run through her. “Then why did I-I... Why did I feel like that? Why...?”

Sunset remained completely silent. Wallflower kept staring at the wall, her vision blurring further as her eyes watered. She was honestly surprised that she still had any tears left to cry at this point.

Then, Sunset sighed, turning to face Wallflower. “That was... It was out of your control,” she said. “Bodies react to stimuli, whether we want them to or not.”

“Please don't try to act like it was some normal thing."

“Of course it was normal,” Sunset said. “It’s just like when you get a bruise and it hurts. The body feels things in response to what’s happening to it, and it can be really... Inconsiderate, I guess. Especially when talking about the, uhh... The reproductive parts...” Sunset’s voice trailed off.

Wallflower wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I... I don’t know. Maybe you're right, but... I don't know. I don’t know anything anymore.”

“Wallflower.”

“H-huh?” She looked over and saw Sunset staring at her, eyes wide with some horrible realization.

“It happened after the Spring Fling, right?” Sunset asked. “Over a month ago?”

“Uhm... A little over a month, yeah,” Wallflower said. “Sunset, you’re kinda scaring me—”

“Wallflower, when was your last period?”

“I...” Wallflower blinked. “Before...” All at once, her breath left her.

In an instant, Sunset stood up and started pacing. “I’ll go to the pharmacy first thing tomorrow morning,” she said. "They have tests there." Her confidence was undercut by an unmistakable shakiness in her words.

“S-Sunset...?” Wallflower's voice was impossibly soft, and she felt as if the entire world had fallen into slow motion.

“You’re probably okay,” Sunset said. “It’s not that irregular for cycles to have wider ranges sometimes.”

“Sunset...”

“You’re gonna be fine. It’ll be okay, and... And even if—huh?” Sunset stopped talking when Wallflower grabbed her hand. Wallflower lightly pulled Sunset back to the mattress, where she sat back down beside her.

Wallflower trembled a little as she rested her head against Sunset. “You made me promise to tell you if I ever wanted to give up.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.” She felt Sunset put an arm around her, and she could immediately tell that her friend was just as scared as she was.

Wallflower let out a slow, shallow exhale. “I-I want to give up,” she said.

Sunset held her a little tighter. “I know.”

“Thank you,” Wallflower said. “For letting me stay here. For everything, really. But... But I don't think I can do this...”

“We’re going to get you through it, no matter what,” Sunset said. “I know we will. We just have to take things one step at a time.”

As she allowed herself to fall a little further into Sunset’s embrace, Wallflower realized she was starting to drift into unconsciousness. So many hours without rest were finally catching up to her, and yet for the first time in weeks, she wasn’t afraid to go to sleep.

Wallflower closed her eyes, sighing. “One step at a time,” she whispered.

V - Fatigue

Sunset pinched the corners of her comforter, spreading it wide and draping it over Wallflower’s slumbering form. Her friend seemed peaceful enough, although her talk of nightmares and the events of the past few hours left Sunset wary of how helpful sleep would even be for her.

After clicking off the bedside lamp, Sunset leaned against the loft railing. Her eyes darted towards the window, where the first glows of dawn were peaking over the horizon. With a heavy sigh, she looked back to the bed. Seeing Wallflower sound asleep tempted Sunset to collapse back onto the couch for a few hours, but her own rest would have to wait.

Checking her phone, Sunset found that the pharmacy would be open in about half an hour. It would take almost as long to walk there, so she pulled on an old hoodie and collected her keys and wallet. A wayward glance at the couch left her groaning. She had slept for maybe an hour before Wallflower’s cries had woken her up, and while she was ultimately glad to see Wallflower was opening up to her a little more, the lack of sleep and late night conversation had left Sunset just as exhausted as her friend. Nonetheless, she slipped out the door, making sure to close it as silently as possible.

As she began making her way to the pharmacy, her mind wandered into worry. She was more than well-versed in the biology of human cycles after so many years here, and such a long span between periods—almost forty days—was certainly uncommon. It wasn’t impossible, but it was just as likely that Wallflower’s assaulter had gotten her pregnant.

The thought made her stomach turn. She had promised Wallflower that she would not go looking for him, but if she was being honest with herself, part of her wished she hadn’t. At the time, she was more concerned with coaxing Wallflower into opening up to her, and she’d said what she had to for that to happen. While Sunset would never go back on a promise, the thought of such a monstrous person roaming free left her with a scowl that could kill.

She could understand Wallflower not wanting to see her attacker again, though. As cathartic as it was for Sunset to think about him being hauled away in chains, any legal proceedings would inevitably boil down to a “he-said; she-said” argument. Should Wallflower attempt to seek justice, she would have to spend months of her life being constantly reminded of what she’d been through, and there was no guarantee that it would be worth it.

Still, Sunset thought, it was possible that Wallflower would change her mind about it. For all intents, she had really only had this one day to process what happened, despite the assault happening over a month ago. Regardless of what she decided, though, Sunset would support her. It was all she could do, now.

What did supporting Wallflower mean, though? What would it entail? Sunset mentally ran through a list of her monthly expenses—groceries, social outings, phone and internet bills... She had been lucky enough to be given a room-and-board agreement by her employer, but that meant that her apartment came at the cost of a sizable cut in pay. It wasn’t normally a problem, but there was no way she could afford taking care of two people unless she took on a lot more hours.

A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled the reason for her morning walk. Goddess forbid, she’d have to take care of three.

When confronted with a seemingly impossible dilemma, Sunset always fell back on her preferred method of problem solving. Eliminating any possibilities that were completely unacceptable would narrow down her choices until something made sense. In this case, Sunset would sooner jump into traffic before kicking her friend out. Wallflower needed someone to look after her, and Sunset was the only person she had. The two of them were going to be living together for the foreseeable future, that much was certain.

Sunset leaned against a street lamp as she waited for the crosswalk light to change. She couldn’t ask Wallflower to get a job, not now, and possibly not for a long time if a pregnancy test came back positive. She was still so damaged—it wouldn’t be fair to ask her for such a thing.

Again, Sunset’s mind returned to the purpose of visiting the pharmacy. It was more or less impossible to make financial decisions until she knew the extent of the situation, and that meant waiting until Wallflower woke up and was able to take the test. Sunset shuddered at the thought of what Wallflower might do if the test was positive.

Now that she thought about it, her apartment was nowhere near a safe place. There were kitchen knives, over-the-counter painkillers in the bathroom, a loft with a railing to tie something around... Sunset scratched her forearm beneath her sleeve, recalling the morbid creativity one could have if determined enough to hurt themselves. When she got back, she would need to inspect every inch of her home and either hide or remove anything Wallflower may be tempted to hurt herself with. Sunset was overcome with dread as she realized she would have to do so right away, before she could fall asleep herself.

It was such an extensive task, and only one of many. She had to figure out finances, bring over Wallflower’s belongings from her apartment, be constantly vigilant about Wallflower’s safety, as well as countless other necessities that fell to her. Sunset groaned, bitterness pulling her lips into a frown. She never asked for any of this.

As she came up on the pharmacy, Sunset shook her head, scolding herself. There was no time to indulge in self-pity, not while Wallflower was still so fragile. Maybe one day she could allow herself to complain about it. Maybe one day she could collapse beneath all the exhaustion and stress. Maybe one day she could take a break from being concerned about her friend, her future and herself, but not today. She had to stay strong for Wallflower until Wallflower could be strong for herself.

Sunset entered the pharmacy, the automatic doors sliding shut behind her. She quickly found the contraceptive aisle and located a relatively inexpensive pregnancy test. As she brought it to the checkout counter, the clerk raised an eyebrow.

“Uhm, these won’t really work the morning after,” the clerk said. She bagged them up all the same.

After a moment, Sunset realized what she was implying. “O-oh, it’s not for me,” she said.

The clerk gave her an incredulous look, and Sunset’s face went red. “Look, it’s... Ugh, nevermind!” She handed the woman the amount she owed, grabbed her bag and stomped out the door.

As she made her way back to her apartment, Sunset rolled her eyes. To be sure, a pregnancy test was not something she ever expected herself to purchase. Intimacy had never really been her thing. Flash’s numerous failed attempts to seduce her were proof enough of that.

Just then, a chime echoed from her pocket. Sunset looked at her phone, recognizing Rarity’s name as the sender of the message. She was inviting Sunset for early morning coffee, something Sunset desperately needed.

With a heavy sigh, Sunset replied. Sorry, can’t. Foreseeing Rarity’s inevitable protests of her vagueness, Sunset included a bit more. I have company over.

Before she could even slip her phone back into her pocket, the chime sounded again. Sunset read the message and slammed her face with her palm. Of course Rarity wanted to know who was staying over. Just like the clerk, she probably thought it was something scandalous.

Sunset stared at the blinking cursor on her phone, trying to think of what to say. Eventually, she settled on honesty. Wallflower Blush, she typed. She’s going to be staying with me for a while. I can’t really say more right now, sorry.

Less than a minute passed before Sunset heard the chime. She looked at the message and smiled. As much of a gossip as Rarity could be sometimes, she was very respectful of boundaries.

As Sunset at last pocketed her phone, her thoughts turned to the rest of her friends. Maybe they were the solution she needed—every one of them would be more than willing to help out her and Wallflower if they knew what was going on.

Of course, it wasn’t that simple. There was no way Wallflower would want to tell any of them what she’d been through, and Sunset certainly wasn’t about to say anything without permission. Would it really be okay to ask her friends to help her with a problem she couldn’t tell them about? Sunset sighed as she walked up to her apartment door. She would have to answer that question later.

She pulled the door shut, making sure to do so quietly. After slipping out of her shoes and putting down her keys and bag, she tiptoed up the stairs to check on Wallflower. She was still sleeping in the same place she’d been when Sunset left. As Sunset drew a little closer, she saw how tightly Wallflower was gripping the comforter. Even in her stillness, Wallflower looked incredibly uneasy.

Sunset's heart sank a bit. What if Wallflower was having a nightmare, right at that moment? Should Sunset wake her up so she could escape the tormenting dreams? Should she leave Wallflower alone, if only to let her body rest? Deep down, she knew neither of those questions had right answers.

Making her way back downstairs, Sunset moved to the kitchen. Just as she thought, there were quite a few sharp objects that she needed to remove for this to be a safe environment.

Stretching away as much of her exhaustion as she could, Sunset set about her task. Maybe one day she could relax. But not today.

VI - Self-Destructive Behavior

One line for no. Two lines for yes.

Wallflower stared at the little pink box on the bathroom counter. Cute curly font spelled out a brand name, flanked by lists of meaningless statistics she didn’t want to read. Sunset was just outside, standing in the doorway.

“I’ll be just out here,” Sunset said.

Nodding, Wallflower flipped the box over, reading the directions to ensure she knew how the test was done. Apparently the end of the stick reacted to the presence of a hormone in urine. The prospect had her a little more than uneasy, but the only alternative was a blood test. This really was the only choice she had.

“O-oh, yeah.” Sunset shrugged. “You’ll need some privacy.” She closed the door, and Wallflower was alone.

After reading over the directions one more time, Wallflower opened the box. Inside was a plastic stick, similar to a thermometer, and on its end was a plastic cap covering the tip she would need to hold in urine. Closer to the center was a little window where the result would pop up.

One line for no. Two lines for yes.

Wallflower stepped back from the counter, beads of sweat forming on her brow. She didn’t want to do this. She knew what the result would be—two pink lines ensuring the presence of a living thing lingering inside her. Putting the testing stick down, Wallflower paced around in the small space of the bathroom. A striped shower curtain hung opposite from the door, which was still closed and unlocked. The tiny counter around the sink had some cosmetic and hygienic items, with a few drawers beneath the counter-top on one side. When Wallflower looked up, she saw a medicine cabinet with a glass mirror affixed to the front.

She moved a little closer, observing her reflection. A fragile mess of a girl stared back at her, covered by matted tangles of hair and the deepest frown Wallflower had seen in her life. She stared into her tired brown eyes and hated them.

Her stomach twinged at her as she turned away. Sunset would surely tell her that her stomach pain was a sign that she needed to eat something, but Wallflower knew the truth. Her stomach hurt because of the parasite he’d implanted in her that night, a memento of her torment. She would no longer be able to lie to herself about it once she took that test.

One line for no. Two lines for yes.

Wallflower returned to the sink and picked up the testing stick. She held it in her hand, turning it over, and removed the plastic cap from the end. After a second, she dropped it on the counter again.

Sunset’s voice came from outside. “Everything alright in there?”

Wallflower answered by locking the door.

“Wallflower?”

She couldn’t do this. If she did, the test would be positive. The pain in her stomach proved it. Wallflower knew that as soon as she saw those two lines, she could no longer deny that another life was attached to her own, and she would lose even more agency over her body as it became the home of another being.

There was a knock on the door. “Hey, Wallflower?” Sunset was louder than before. “Talk to me, okay? What’s going on?”

As much as she hated it, Wallflower knew that seeing those lines would force the certainty upon her. At that point, it would mean she couldn’t give up. Awful as it was for her to admit, a child would give her something to live for.

She couldn't let that happen. This was her last chance to take her own life.

“Wallflower!” Sunset uselessly rattled the locked door. “Please, let me in! Wallflower!”

Wallflower held her breath, trying to ignore the noise of Sunset banging on the door. She looked around the room for anything she could use, tearing through the drawers and medicine cabinet. The things she would have expected to find in a bathroom—painkillers, detergent, razor blades—were nowhere to be seen. Wallflower cried out in frustration. Sunset must have taken them all away while she had been sleeping.

She couldn’t give up. She had to find something, something lethal, something she could use to stave off the inevitable proof of her pregnancy.

“P-please!” Sunset shouted as she shook the door handle again. Wallflower could hear the cracks in her voice. It seemed weirdly backwards for Sunset to be crying, and not her.

The incessant sound only made Wallflower more determined. She had to find something and use it quickly, but there was nothing here. Nothing poisonous, nothing sharp, nothing at all. As Sunset screamed desperately outside, Wallflower’s gaze turned to the mirror.

What a horrible person, making her only friend so distraught after everything Sunset had done for her. What a stupid, stupid girl, too frightened to say no, even when someone invaded her home and pulled her legs apart. What a disgusting freak, too sick and slutty to stop herself from shuddering and gasping with pleasure when he stained her mind, body and soul.

No, she thought, scowling. She still wasn’t telling herself the truth of it. She and Sunset kept using all these euphemisms, all these synonyms, all these elaborate ways to avoid acknowledging the disgusting reality.

He didn’t stain her. She didn’t shudder. She let him cum inside her, and he made her cum too. Just thinking that word made Wallflower want to vomit, but it was what happened—what she let happen—and calling it anything else would just be lying to herself. There was no hiding from the truth, and the truth was that she was going to see those two lines and know she was pregnant and it was all her fault.

Unless she died, right here, right now. Outside, Sunset’s screams and shouts had faded into whimpers, punctuated by an occasional useless shaking of the door handle. This was going to leave her devastated, but there was no other way.

Positioning herself in front of the medicine cabinet, Wallflower glared through the mirror at the stupid little whore who ruined her life. Then, with all her strength, she punched the glass.

It clattered on its hinges, but otherwise remained undamaged.

“Grrrraaahh—!” Wallflower screamed and pounded it again, but to no avail. Despite the intense pain in her hand from striking it, not a single shard of glass had fallen from its frame.

She should have known this would happen. She was weak, too weak to break the glass, too weak to do anything.

“Wallflower, I-I can help you! We can figure this out together—!” Sunset’s cries were deafened by the heavy impact of Wallflower’s head against the mirror.

As Wallflower steadied herself, her skull throbbing, she saw the tiniest of cracks forming on the mirror’s glass. Despite her pain, despite Sunset’s screams, Wallflower slammed her head into the mirror again. Again she stumbled back, and again she saw cracks on the glass, this time larger and stained red with the blood dripping from her forehead.

Sunset wasn’t screaming anymore. She was whimpering, pleading, crying. She sounded so hopeless, and it only made Wallflower hate the girl in the mirror even more for tormenting her friend. She crashed her head into her reflection again. A few splinters of glass began to fall, but none of them were big enough for Wallflower to kill herself with.

“Please...” Sunset’s voice was barely a whisper. “P-please don’t do this...”

Wallflower took a deep breath, doing her best to block out the pain and Sunset's crying. Her vision was blurred by blood as she lurched forward, smashing into the mirror again. The impact left her recoiling, and she stumbled back. As she did, wide shards of glass fell from the mirror’s shattered remains. She immediately grabbed one, its razor-sharp edges cutting into her palm.

“Wallflower... I-I’m sorry...”

Wallflower stopped.

“I d-don’t know what to do...” Sunset whimpered in the silence. “I don’t know what to do. I did my best, but I—I don’t know what to do...”

Wallflower stood motionless, frozen. Her hand stung from the glass cutting into it, and her head felt like it was going to explode. Hot blood ran down her face, tickling her skin. She looked into the shard of the mirror in her hand, and was surprised to see that she wasn’t crying. Maybe she was finally out of tears.

“W-Wallflower, I...” Sunset weakly sobbed. “I’m s-so, so sorry...”

Dazed, Wallflower leaned against the wall. As her eyes passed over the bathroom, she saw drops of blood all over the counter and sink. The shattered remains of the mirror were stuck to the dented face of the medicine cabinet, which was also bloodied after her repeated attacks on it. She looked to the test on the counter, then down at the shard of glass in her hand.

She could end it, right now. Just one deep cut into the side of her neck and everything would disappear. No more nightmares, no more memories, no more anything.

Wallflower dropped the shard and unlocked the door.

The second Sunset saw her, Wallflower was nearly knocked over by the ensuing hug. Sunset clung to her, her entire body trembling as she cried and cried and cried.

Wallflower let out a slow, shallow sigh, and then another. Her breaths became steadier as she at last returned the embrace. She closed her eyes, Sunset’s hands running over her back as she held Wallflower closer.

It was all so strange. Sunset was crying, and Wallflower was not. She should be crying after something like that, right?

When they finally parted, Sunset stared at Wallflower, her bright blue eyes brimming with tears. She brushed her hand through Wallflower’s bangs, leaving it stained red.

“I-I’m so sorry! I never should've closed the door, o-or ever let you be alone!” Sunset’s voice wavered as she hugged Wallflower again. “I should have known h-how you’d react if the test was positive!”

Wallflower blinked slowly. “I, uhm, never took it.”

“What?” Sunset looked at her, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “Then why...?”

Wallflower sighed, overcome with a dull calmness. “It’s okay. I’ll clean up your bathroom.”

“Absolutely not!” Sunset emphatically shook her head. “N-no! No way! You need to go to the hospital!”

“There’s a lot of blood,” Wallflower said. “I have to clean it before it stains stuff.”

Sunset kept protesting, but Wallflower didn’t really pay attention. She set about her task as slowly as possible. Every second she spent cleaning the bathroom was one she didn’t have to be taking the pregnancy test. Her eyes fell on the testing stick, still on the counter. It was face-down and the end used for testing had a good amount of blood on it.

All at once, Wallflower’s heart stopped. If there was blood on the end...

Trembling against the weight of her own dread, she reached for the testing stick. One line for no. Two lines for yes. Wallflower held her breath as she turned it over in her hand.

Tears filled her eyes when she saw the result—a single line clearly marked within.

VII - Physical or Emotional Numbness

Wallflower held her eyes closed for a moment, trying to ease her headache. “I said I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not!” Sunset shouted at her. Her friend sat hunched on the carpet beside the bathroom, blood and glass littering the floor in the doorway beside her. “You need to see a doctor!”

Wallflower took a few stumbling steps before stopping in front of the couch. For some reason, sitting there left her feeling uneasy, so she lowered herself to the floor instead. Little trickles of blood still dripped down her forehead. “It’s okay, Sunset,” she said. The ringing in her ears sounded like wind chimes. “The test was negative. I’m gonna be fine.”

“Your head is bleeding, Wallflower!”

“It’s just some scratches,” Wallflower said. “There’s no reason to get a doctor involved.” As much as her head hurt, she had no interest in explaining why she had smashed her head into a mirror over and over to some random stranger in a lab coat. She would be okay. There had only been one line, so she would be okay.

“I-I don’t—no!” Sunset wiped away tears, only for more to fill her eyes. “You were about to kill yourself! All because I... I...” Whimpering, she buried her head in her hands.

“But I didn’t,” Wallflower said, giving Sunset a weak smile. “I’m okay now, I promise.”

Sunset was silent for a moment, staring helplessly into Wallflower’s eyes. When she opened her mouth to speak, a choking sob came out, and then another. Sunset’s lungs shuddered, and Wallflower wrapped her arms around her.

“I was s-so scared...”

Wallflower held her a little tighter. “I know, Sunset. I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“I was so sure you were going to...” Sunset interrupted herself with a whimper. “The door was locked and you wouldn’t answer, and... and there was n-nothing I could do...”

Wallflower closed her eyes again as the dull aching in her skull grew sharper. “It’s alright,” she said. “The test was negative. Everything worked out.”

“No it didn’t!” Sunset cried. “I thought you were gonna die!”

Wallflower yawned. “I did too."

"You need help, Wallflower," Sunset said. "I'm gonna call—"

"Don't," Wallflower interrupted. She blinked, and blinked again, slower. Was she blinking? She wasn’t trying to, but the world was flickering all the same. Her head really hurt. “I think I’m going to take a nap,” she said.

“I’m serious!” Sunset huffed. “You have to go to the hospital!”

Wallflower shut her eyes as tight as she could. “Nnnnghhh...”

“Wallflower...?”

Her head really, really hurt. “I don’t wannaaaaaaa—”

Wallflower felt her body give out, and she collapsed.

Blood. There was so much blood.

It joined with other fluids—both his and hers—that dribbled out of her and down her inner thighs as she stood up, shakily leaning against the wall. Her head was screaming like it was going to split apart any second as she took the first wobbly step.

She had to get to the stone. She had to erase everything.

Her legs moved as if affixed by rusted hinges, and with every motion she felt the nauseating warmth of what he’d filled her with as it moved around inside her. Across the abyss, her bag sat on the table a thousand miles away. Blue light shimmered within it, and an eerie eye stared back at her as she took another step towards the glow. In the blackness all around, the softest of voices whispered and sighed.

Everything. She would erase anything and everything about tonight. Not just tonight, but every day and every night he had ever lived. She would leave him as nothing but a mindless husk, an empty shell with no soul to guide him. Hate and tears filled her eyes, and the mixture of fluids ran cold down her leg as she moved forwards. The void was swallowed by colorless static as the first drops fell from her skin.

She could erase herself, too. No one would miss her, certainly not herself. She was a nobody, an object in the background, unseen by all except those who would try to use her. He didn’t care. Her parents didn't care. She didn’t care. There was nothing worth preserving in her mind. She reached the table, and the voices and voids died in screaming silence as she pulled the cold grey object from her bag.

The stone’s gleaming blue iris looked through her as she held it in her trembling hands. She could end herself, and him. She could end everybody, if she really wanted to.

Was that what she wanted? No, she didn’t want that. She wanted to be wanted, but not like this. Not like how he wanted her. Did he ever want her? Maybe she was just a plaything for him to use and discard like a broken toy. She could leave him just as broken, maybe even more so. But if she did, what would that make her? He had invaded her home, invaded her body... How would she be any different if she invaded his mind in return? She tumbled through nothing, the airless vacuum whipping her hair all over. She shifted, and a chill ran through her as she felt the horrible warmth resettle inside her.

This was all too much. She didn’t want to think about this anymore. Whatever he remembered wouldn’t matter if she didn’t remember him, right? She just wanted it to go away, all the nothing, all the something, all the everything, just long enough for her to catch her breath. The tears on her cheeks evaporated into steam as she held the stone close to her chest.

It was better this way.

She took a deep breath, and everything was gone in a cerulean flash.

“I don’t know what to do...” She heard Sunset speaking in hushed tones beside her. “It’s only been a day, and... And already...”

“A day since, uhm...” There was another voice, this one softer.

“S-since I made—ugh, I’m sorry,” Sunset said, groaning. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, just... I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone without her permission.”

“That’s okay,” the other voice said. “She must really trust you.”

One by one, Wallflower’s senses slowly came back to her. The air around her was stale and cold, and it smelled like cleaning detergent. Beneath her, stiff cushions had propped up her head, which was being compressed by some kind of wrap. Her hair fell in a tangled mess around her shoulders, and when she tried to move, her bangs tickled her face.

“I can’t do this on my own,” Sunset said, her voice wavering. “I thought I could, but... I don’t know. This is so much more than just being nice and listening and—and even then I thought I was d-doing okay, until...” A trembling whimper filled the silent room, which Wallflower had surmised to be a hospital suite.

“Shhhh. It’s not your fault, Sunset.”

Wallflower allowed her eyes to open just a tiny sliver, only to realize that Sunset and the other person were out of sight. She contemplated turning her head, but thought better of it. As soon as she moved, they would know she was awake. She wanted to hear what Sunset had to say.

“It is my fault!” Sunset kept to just above a whisper, emphatic as she was. “I thought I had taken care of everything—the knives, the ibuprofen, the r-razors...” She took a deep breath, and Wallflower could hear tiny sobs breaking through between her breaths. “I hid everything I would have used. I was so sure it was safe, but... but then I closed that door...”

“You didn’t know what she was going to do,” the softer voice said. “If I had to guess, I’d say she probably didn’t know either.”

“But I should have known, Fluttershy! I said I’d take care of her!”

Wallflower stiffened up. Sunset had brought her friend. Had she brought the others? She turned her head as slowly as possible, trying to locate any other people who may be in the room.

“You can’t take care of someone who doesn’t want to be cared for,” Fluttershy said. “I won’t ask you what happened to make her do that, but it must have been terrible.”

Sunset let out a shaky exhale. “Like you wouldn’t believe...”

“Sunset, look.”

Wallflower froze.

“She’s waking up,” Fluttershy said.

Before Wallflower could even blink, Sunset was standing over her, tears in her eyes. “Oh thank Goddess, Wallflower!”

The volume left Wallflower’s head throbbing. “W-what’s going on...?”

“You’re in the hospital,” Fluttershy said. Wallflower braved a glance at the other girl, and Fluttershy smiled warmly at her.

Wallflower turned back to Sunset, who was wiping her eyes. “Why is she here?”

“O-oh, she had a car, and I called—because you’d passed out, and I didn’t know what else to do, so I, uh...” Sunset looked away, swaying nervously like a child about to be punished.

“I can step outside if you’d like,” Fluttershy said.

Sunset shook her head. “N-no, Fluttershy, it’s—”

“Yes, please,” Wallflower said, her words barely audible.

“Huh?” Sunset knelt beside her. “Wallflower, she’s not—”

“Please...!” Wallflower tried to be assertive, but couldn’t stop the tears from brimming.

“It’s no problem,” Fluttershy said. “I’ll be just outside, okay Wallflower?”

Sunset’s friend knew something had happened, even though Sunset promised she wouldn’t tell anyone. Sunset didn’t tell anyone, though. If anything, she had done as much as she could while holding herself to that vow, even though it was probably making her life a lot harder.

“But... F-Fluttershy...” Sunset’s voice broke, and she looked back at Wallflower. “I don’t know what to do...”

Sunset was trying so hard for her. Wallflower realized that her friend probably hadn’t slept in nearly twenty-four hours, and Wallflower had repaid that dedication by almost killing herself and scaring Sunset half to death. How could she be so ungrateful? Sunset probably wanted her to go away, especially now that she knew Wallflower wasn't pregnant and there was no more reason to take pity on her. But where would she even go?

“We can talk later, Sunset,” Fluttershy said as she opened the door. “Wallflower needs you right now.”

Wallflower shut her eyes, and in the blackness beneath her eyelids, she saw her bloodied reflection staring back at her through a shard of glass.

She did need Sunset right now. But what about what Sunset needed?

“W-wait...” Wallflower was put off by the coarseness of her own voice.

Fluttershy turned. “Hmm?”

“You can stay,” Wallflower said. When she looked at Sunset, she saw her friend’s relieved and grateful smile.

VIII - Distorted Self-Image

“Uhm...” Fluttershy’s voice sounded above her. Wallflower craned her neck and saw her peering over the edge of the loft. “I’m sure Sunset wouldn’t mind if you sat on the couch.”

A tense feeling settled in Wallflower’s knotted stomach. “Probably not,” she said, still unmoving. “I’d rather be on the floor, though.”

Up on the loft, Fluttershy murmured a soft goodnight to Sunset. Wallflower heaved a sigh as she heard her descending the stairs, and she rolled over, facing away. The slight motion left her head throbbing for a moment, and she gritted her teeth until the pain settled.

She knew Sunset needed sleep, but something about being left alone with someone—especially someone she had so recently wronged—only deepened the anxious pit in her core.

Wallflower shifted nervously as she heard light footsteps approaching her. She hated the thought of being trapped in a conversation with Fluttershy, but she hated having people behind her even more. She rolled her eyes as she flipped onto her back again. At least now she knew why it was so uncomfortable.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer the couch?” Fluttershy asked. “Sunset and I play video games here sometimes. It’s really comfy.”

Wallflower briefly glanced at the couch. It certainly looked far more plush than the stiff blue cushions of her own sofa. When her eyes flitted to the side, though, she saw the arm of the furniture, so similarly shaped to the one he'd pulled her over when he took her.

“No,” she said flatly.

Wallflower barely noticed as Fluttershy sat on the couch, too lost in her own self-resentment. She needed to stop sugarcoating it. He didn’t “take” her—he fucked her. After she sat with the thought for a moment, she frowned, running a hand down her face. Sunset had been spot-on when questioning if Wallflower preferred such a blunt word for the sake of downplaying what happened. She would say that Wallflower was still sugarcoating it, even if she was using such crude language. She would say that he didn’t “fuck” her, either, but Wallflower still couldn’t bring herself to accept the word Sunset had used.

All at once, Wallflower grimaced and turned away, resenting both the furniture and her choice of language. What did it matter what she called it? Both she and Sunset knew what had happened. Such descriptors only served a purpose when explaining it to someone else, something she was absolutely not okay with doing. She winced as her headache resumed its dull pounding.

“I don’t think lying on the floor was what the doctor meant when he said you needed rest,” Fluttershy said.

“I like laying on the floor. And besides, it’s not like I have a concussion,” Wallflower said, and immediately regretted saying anything. She just wanted Fluttershy to leave, and conversation would only delay that. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the apartment door, and a nervous chill settled in her chest.

“That’s true,” Fluttershy said. “Still, any head injury is serious business, especially if it was bad enough to make you pass out. Sleep will be important.”

Anxiety flared at the prospect of sinking back into the nightmares, forcing Wallflower to respond. “I don’t want to sleep,” she said, her voice breathless.

“Do you have nightmares?”

At that, Wallflower blinked in surprise. She barely turned, avoiding eye contact as she responded. “How did you know?”

“I used to have nightmares when I was younger,” Fluttershy said. “Not like ‘little kid’ younger, more like freshman year.” She brushed a few strands of long pink hair from her face. “They were so exhausting—people glaring, laughing, pushing me around... I had been at a private school until then, and the idea of going to a public high school like CHS was really scary. I didn’t really know anyone besides Rainbow Dash, and she was always so busy with sports. I guess all that anxiousness followed me to bed every night.”

Wallflower was silent for a moment. She wanted to be left alone, but having some company was nice too. For a moment she wished Sunset was awake, only to mentally groan at her own selfishness. Sunset had been so patient with her since the moment Wallflower had remembered what happened, but it was unfair to expect her to hold her hand every second of every day.

She took a deep breath, and then another. “How’d you make them stop?” she asked.

“They didn’t stop all at once,” Fluttershy said. “I had to learn to live with my anxiety, little by little. For me, that meant having animal friends instead of people friends, and eventually I found people friends too.” She lay down on the floor beside Wallflower. “Oh, you’re right. It is nice down here.”

Wallflower stared at the ceiling, allowing her eyes to lose focus. Talking with Fluttershy wasn’t as bad as she thought. A smile tugged at her lips, only for her expression to sink into despondence once more. “Yeah, well...” She felt her legs tense up, and she moved them together. “I guess laying on my back is my element.”

“What do you mean?” Fluttershy asked.

In the span of a second, adrenaline shot through Wallflower’s entire body. She should’ve known better than to say something like that—of course Fluttershy would be confused. Her heart thumped, rattling her head and worsening the aching feeling in her skull.

“It’s okay,” Fluttershy said. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I-I...” Wallflower sucked in sharp, shallow breaths. Deep within her, as much as she hated to accept it, part of her wanted to tell Fluttershy what happened. As the fears of a pregnancy still faded, Wallflower found herself lost in her own mind. In all the time she had spent alone, she had dreamed of one day being able to open herself up to people who cared. Wouldn’t she be betraying her past self by throwing away the opportunity now?

“It’s alright, really,” Fluttershy said. Her voice dipped into a regretful softness. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“No, it’s... It’s fine,” Wallflower said, surprised at her own answer. “Just... I’m not used to this.”

Fluttershy turned her head. “Used to what?”

“Having someone to talk to,” Wallflower said.

“I know what you mean,” Fluttershy said. “I used to be so afraid of talking to anyone—I didn’t even want to say my own name.” She gave Wallflower a warm smile. “It is nice though, being able to speak my mind. I so often get lost in the clutter of ‘what-ifs,’ or beating myself up over silly mistakes no one else even noticed. Talking to my friends about those helps me clear my head.”

“Yeah...” Wallflower sighed. “That does sound nice.”

“I know we’re not as close as you and Sunset are, but if there’s anything you want to talk about...”

“Part of me does want to, but it’s... I dunno, difficult for me, I guess,” Wallflower said. “I only just started talking with Sunset, and already she’s taken me into her home. She’s so patient with me, so understanding...” She exhaled slowly. “I feel like I’m taking advantage of her just by being here.”

“Is it alright if I ask why she invited you to stay with her?” Fluttershy asked.

Wallflower shifted beneath another pang of anxiousness. “S-someone... Someone really hurt me,” she said.

“I thought so,” Fluttershy said. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Wallflower looked away. “You don’t even know what they did,” she muttered.

“I don’t know for sure,” Fluttershy said. “After helping Sunset get you to the hospital, though, I do have a guess.”

“What?” Wallflower felt her heart stop. “H-how could you...?”

Fluttershy held Wallflower’s gaze, her eyes soft and unsure. “Are you sure you are okay with talking about it?”

After a shudder, Wallflower gave a wordless nod, unsure of what was compelling her to do so.

“When Sunset called me...” Fluttershy glanced up at the loft. “I’d never heard her so scared before. I’d never heard anyone that scared. Of course, I rushed over here immediately, and I live close by so it didn’t take long.”

Wallflower felt her heart sinking as she looked up at the loft. Sunset had been so good to her, and she had repaid that kindness by almost killing herself and leaving Sunset terrified.

“When I got here, she had you in the bathroom,” Fluttershy said. “She was trying to clean the blood off your face, even though... Well, I don’t think she knew what else to do.”

With a hitched breath, Wallflower blinked away tears. She imagined Sunset screaming desperately into her phone, pleading with Fluttershy for help. How could she have put Sunset in such a horrible situation?

She felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t flinch. “It’s okay, Wallflower,” Fluttershy said. “The only reason Sunset was that afraid was because she cares so much. I know it hurts to hear about it, but I think in the end, some good can come out of it for you.”

Wallflower allowed her muscles to relax just the slightest bit. “How is scaring someone who cares about me a good thing?” she asked.

“I know what it’s like to think someone only helps you out of pity,” Fluttershy said. “For years, I thought Rainbow Dash only stood up for me because she felt bad for me. It’s a difficult feeling to get away from.” She smiled at Wallflower. “At least now you know for certain that she really does care about you. That’s a valuable thing.”

“Maybe,” Wallflower sighed. “That just makes me feel worse about being a freeloader.”

“I don’t think she sees it that way,” Fluttershy said. “Helping a friend isn’t some kind of exchange. Sunset only wants you to recover after what happened.”

Wallflower rolled over, and Fluttershy’s hand slid off her shoulder. “If you really knew what happened, you’d know it isn’t something I’m going to ‘recover’ from.”

“Again, I don’t know for sure,” Fluttershy said. “And I won’t ask you about it.”

“You already did,” Wallflower said, “whether or not you realized it. I just didn’t answer.”

Fluttershy looked confused. “I don’t remember. I’m sorry for that, then. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Y’know, talking with you is a lot easier than I thought it would be.” Wallflower shifted on the floor, sighing. “And if I’m being honest, there’s a part of me that is okay with you knowing, but it’s like we’re at this stalemate, dancing around a question neither of us want to ask.” She forced herself to look Fluttershy in the eye. “Do you want me to tell you?”

“I want to help you, just like Sunset does,” Fluttershy said. “I think I’d be able to do that a lot better if I know for certain what happened.”

Wallflower felt her muscles twitch, and she shut her eyes. “Yes or no,” she said. Her voice was flat and cold, and her words sounded more like a demand than a question.

“...Yes,” Fluttershy said. “If you’ll tell me.”

After a deep breath, Wallflower spoke. “I’ll ask you. What do you think happened?”

With a sigh, Fluttershy glanced at the bathroom door. “When I was helping Sunset move you out of the bathroom, there was blood and glass everywhere, and I saw something on the counter.” Her face fell, and her voice was barely above a whisper. “A pregnancy test,” she said.

The words sparked another burst of anxiousness in Wallflower’s chest.

“You said someone really hurt you...” When Fluttershy looked up at Wallflower, there were tears in her eyes. “You meant someone forced himself on you.”

Time seemed to slow as Wallflower processed what she’d heard. Fluttershy knew the whole time they had been talking. Anger flared for the shortest of seconds, only to be smothered by grim resignation.

“I don’t know what to call it,” Wallflower said. Hot tears streamed down her face as she turned, staring at the ceiling. “Or, that’s not—I do know what to call it, but I-I feel like I c-can’t say the word...”

“I know,” Fluttershy said. “You don’t have to.”

Wallflower looked at her through brown eyes blurred by tears. “It’s n-never gonna go away,” she said. “I can’t make myself forget it anymore, not without the memory stone.” Her voice rose, trembling as she cried. “Every second of every d-day, I’ll have to—!”

“Shhh, let’s keep our voices down,” Fluttershy said, pointing at the loft. “She’s had a long day.”

Wallflower’s face went red beneath her tears. “Right, s-sorry,” she said.

“It’s alright.”

“Uhm, I don’t...” Wallflower turned away, lying on her side. “I don’t really want to talk about what happened, actually.”

“That’s okay,” Fluttershy said. “I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me at all. And of course, I promise I won’t tell anyone, even if Rarity tries to pull some gossip out of me.”

“Please don’t...”

“You don’t have to worry,” Fluttershy gave her a small smile.

“Sunset said she wouldn’t tell anyone either, and... I guess she didn’t. She’s been so good to me...” Wallflower whimpered. “She h-hasn’t left my side since I remembered, but I...” She trailed off, looking up at the loft. “I just feel s-so worthless, like I'm a burden on her,” she said.

Fluttershy shook her head. “Don’t say that, please.”

“It’s true though,” Wallflower said. “Ever since she started talking to me, all I’ve done is make her life more difficult and given her more things to worry about.” She held up her hand when Fluttershy opened her mouth. “I know what you’re gonna say—that her helping me isn’t an exchange. Maybe she doesn’t think I need to give back, but I want to.” Wallflower wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “Otherwise I’ll just keep feeling worse.”

“If it would make you feel better, then maybe you should,” Fluttershy said.

“But I don’t have anything,” Wallflower groaned. “I have almost no possessions, no money, no anything...”

“You have yourself,” Fluttershy said.

At that, Wallflower turned her head. “What’s that mean?”

“Rarity once told me that too often, we believe that giving someone something means giving them, you know, something. Something they can hold, like a gift. But it doesn’t have to be.”

“I don’t get it,” Wallflower said. “It’s not like I can take her to the zoo or whatever. I don’t have any money, and even if I did, I don't want to be around people.”

“Well not the zoo,” Fluttershy said, her words harder than usual. “Zoos are awful.”

Wallflower sat up and looked away. “Uhm... Sorry, then. But I still don’t get what you mean by giving her ‘myself.’”

“No need to apologize,” Fluttershy said. “And I did word it confusingly, I guess. What I meant was, if you two are going to be living together for a while, you can give her the gift of your company.”

Wallflower sighed, frowning. “I don’t know how to be good company,” she said.

“For Sunset, I think company at home is good company. She has a lot of friends, but I’ve always gotten the impression that she feels lonely. Living alone can’t be easy.”

“It really isn’t,” Wallflower muttered.

“I think having you stay with her will be good for both of you,” Fluttershy said. When Wallflower gave her an incredulous look, she continued. “You don’t have to be her best friend overnight or anything, and you don’t have to pretend to be okay when you’re not. Just do what you can, when you can.”

“I mean...” Wallflower’s eyes rose to the loft. “It sounds nice, but I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Just little things, whatever you’re comfortable with,” Fluttershy said. “Maybe you could start a garden on the windowsill or cook something for dinner on the nights she has work. She wants to take care of you, Wallflower—maybe you can take care of her, too.”

Wallflower hugged herself, giving Fluttershy a sullen look. “I can’t even take care of myself,” she said.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t try to take care of someone else,” Fluttershy said.

“I-I don’t know...” Wallflower turned away. “She’s so nice to me and—and I really do want to give back somehow, but I don’t even know what she likes. And after what happened, I’m s-such a mess and crying all the time...”

“I know it’s hard,” Fluttershy said, giving Wallflower a sad smile. “It’s going to be hard for a while longer. I think doing something for Sunset might make it a little easier, though. Maybe it’ll be a good distraction.”

“Nnnngghh...” Wallflower sat against the wall, curling her legs to her chest. “I don’t know,” she said.

“You don’t have to know right now,” Fluttershy said, standing up. “She’s under a lot of stress, so maybe you can think of some way to make her feel better, even just a little." She stretched, wrinkling her nose. "Rarity’s all about incense nowadays, though personally I think they’re just smelly.”

Wallflower stared at her legs, brushing away another tear. Something to make her feel better...

“I’m sure you’ll think of something nice,” Fluttershy said, yawning. “If it’s alright with you, I’m going to head home. I have quite a few fuzzy friends who are waiting for dinner.”

“Y-yeah, okay,” Wallflower said. “Thank you. For talking with me, I mean.”

“Any time.” Fluttershy smiled at her. “I think it’s very sweet that you want to do something for Sunset. I’m sure no matter what it is, she’ll appreciate it, and you.”

Wallflower silently looked up at the loft, where the softest of snores were echoing over the balcony.

“Oh, and Wallflower?”

After a moment, her eyes blinked back into focus. “What is it?” she asked.

“I really am sorry that you had to go through something so horrible,” Fluttershy said.

Wallflower didn’t answer, instead hiding her face behind her long hair.

“I’m sure you won’t believe me right now, but you’re very brave. I hope one day you realize just how much.”

“Yeah...” Wallflower kept her face hidden. “Thanks.”

“Sunset gave me a spare key, so I can stop by if you need anything,” Fluttershy said. “Please do try to get some rest. Have a good evening, okay?” There was another moment of silence, and then Wallflower heard the door close and the click of the lock.

For a while, Wallflower didn’t move from her spot on the floor. She looked up at the balcony, squinting at the lights above it. Sunset’s slumbering was still just loud enough to be heard on the bottom floor. If not for her fear of the nightmares, Wallflower would have gladly gone to bed early as well.

When she stood, her legs were shaky. While she knew she would have to sleep eventually, there were definitely still a few hours before Sunset woke up. Even if she did want to rest now, there was no way Wallflower was going to sleep on the couch. She trudged her way to the tiny kitchen and poured herself some water.

After glancing at the clock, Wallflower sighed. The idea of being alone with her thoughts for the next several hours was less than pleasant, but maybe Fluttershy was right. Maybe Wallflower could distract herself by doing something nice for Sunset, if only she could figure out what. She pondered over what Fluttershy had told her about giving the gift of herself, and suddenly her mind was buzzing with old rumors at school and the disapproving glares of her parents.

Wallflower sipped her water and sat back down on the floor. It was going to be a long night, and she had a lot to think on.

Author's Note

Crossover with Sunset's Isekai takes place after this chapter, and can be read here!

IX - Restlessness

It was well after dark by the time Sunset made it back to her apartment. With deft hands and silent movements, she turned the lock and pushed the door open, wincing at the familiar creaking of hinges in need of repair. Her guest needed silence as much as she did.

She didn’t even bother looking at the flickering green digital clock by the door. Whatever time it was, it was way too late to be getting home. There had been far too many tables to clean all on her own, but she needed the extra hours if she was to make ends meet while providing for Wallflower.

A glance up the stairs, and Sunset knew Wallflower was in bed already. The bedside lamp was off and the fairy lights wrapped around the balcony had been unplugged, darkening the entirety of the loft. The downstairs light was still on, though—a completely black room did nothing to help with Wallflower’s nightmares.

Sunset sighed as she passed the couch, mentally preparing herself for another night of restless sleep beneath the glare of her overhead lamp. Bitter as she was, though, she knew it was for a good reason. Of course, such altruism would do little to make her less exhausted in the morning.

She made her way to the bathroom, grabbing the pair of purple pajamas she had laid out before work that morning. As she slid the bathroom door shut behind her, her eyes fell on the destroyed remains of her mirror. She could only meet her fractured gaze for a second before turning away. It was difficult for Sunset to believe that it had only been shattered two days ago. Maybe returning to her routine of waking, working and walking home alone had tricked her mind into a sense of normalcy.

Sunset frowned as she slipped out of her work uniform. Hair-thin scars criss-crossed along the top of her exposed thighs, only to vanish again as she pulled on her pajama bottoms. If she was being honest with herself, she still wanted to do it, even now. She had especially been wanting to the past few days.

She knew she couldn’t, though. She could not allow herself to sink back into her destructive habits—not while Wallflower needed her to be strong. Besides, Sunset’s own struggles with isolation and self-hatred were nothing like what Wallflower was going through right now.

Wetting her toothbrush in the sink, Sunset made an effort to avoid looking at the mirror. Wallflower needed her to be strong... What did that mean, though? When Sunset thought back on her own periods of doubt and depression, she wished she'd had someone to tell her it was okay to feel that way, rather than tell her that she shouldn’t.

Maybe what Wallflower needed was someone who could stay in her sadness with her, rather than try to lead her out of it entirely. Sunset had never told another soul about her own struggles, but maybe doing so would be the best way she could be strong for Wallflower. After all, in Sunset's experience, being strong never felt strong.

As Sunset left the bathroom, fully clad in her pajamas, she looked up at the loft again. She and Wallflower hadn’t really talked much since returning from the hospital—clashing sleep times and Sunset’s work schedule today had seen to that. Maybe tomorrow would be a good day to take stock of their joint situation. With fears of pregnancy subsided, Sunset could finally... Honestly, she had no idea what to do next. It was all she could do to keep Wallflower safe and fed.

Sitting on the couch, Sunset reached for her phone. She set her alarm, placed it on the table—and froze.

Whimpering gasps echoed from up on the loft.

Without another thought, Sunset rose and climbed the stairs, fully expecting to find Wallflower in tears. Upon reaching the bed, though, she was greeted with an even worse sight.

Wallflower was stretched out, entirely rigid, as if she had been paralyzed. Her hands were opening and closing rapidly, so hard that her nails were pressing little crescent shapes into her palms. Beneath the comforter, her chest rose and fell at a frightening pace, and sweat beaded across her brow, matting tangles of green hair to her forehead. Her head rolled this way and that, adorned with a pained expression that made Sunset’s stomach sink even further.

“Wallflower...?” Sunset whispered. The only response was more desperate little gasps.

Seeing Wallflower in such a state was making Sunset’s heart race as well. Without thinking, Sunset reached forward, placing her hand on Wallflower’s trembling shoulder and shaking her.

“Wallflower, h-hey!”

Again, there was no response. Something swelled in Sunset’s chest, and she shook Wallflower again. As she opened her mouth to speak, her fingers brushed against Wallflower's neck, and fear and anguish and terror surged forth—

—Entirely paralyzed, can’t even scream or cry. Barely able to breath, gasping for air. Choking on the smell of blood and sweat and herself. He keeps stabbing through her, like a saw blade splitting her in two, ripping her apart from the inside out.

It hurts so much. She’s going to die. She doesn’t want to die.

What she wants doesn’t matter. She’s under his control, and he can do whatever he wants with her. Before he kills her, he’s making sure to get some use out of her first. It doesn’t matter. Her life has no value.

It doesn't have to hurt. She can feel something else. She can’t ignore the feeling, so just let it happen. It’s happening no matter what, so why try to fight it?

It’s not so bad. Let it happen.

It makes her want to throw up. She doesn't want to let it happen.

It's okay to let it happen. It feels good.

She doesn't want to feel it. She doesn't want to feel anything. She wants it to be over... But she doesn’t want to die.

Fear seizing her lungs. Can’t breathe. It hurts so, so much but she doesn’t want it to end. He’s only keeping her alive to fuck her. It’s her only use to him, the only purpose she has in his eyes. As soon as he’s done, he’ll kill her. As soon as she’s not being fucked, she’s going to die, and she doesn’t want to die.

But if she doesn’t want to die, then she must want—

“Gah—!” Sunset recoiled, the glow of her magic leaving her eyes. A second later, she was screaming.

"N-no!" Sunset toppled back, her eyes shut tight. "Stop! Get off me—!"

She blinked, her entire body trembling. On instinct, she took slow, steady inhales, and she could feel her heartbeat slowing with every breath. It was a dream. It was only a dream—but it wasn't hers.

"Wallflower!" Sunset shot up, scrambling across the bed. "I’m so s-sorry, I-I didn’t mean to do that! It just—Wallflower?”

Beside her, Wallflower’s eyes shot open, full of terror. Even as they did, her breathing remained ragged as ever.

Sweating. Panic. Hyperventilating. Sunset knew all too well what anxiety attacks looked like—what they felt like. Wallflower was clearly going through something much worse, but all the same, Sunset’s instincts kicked in.

“Wallflower, listen to me.” Sunset spoke as steadily as she could, even as her heart was racing. “Focus on my voice, okay? Keep your eyes open.”

Wallflower clutched her chest, making a gasping sound as if she were trying to speak. Her terrified expression fell even further, and her eyes darted around the room in search of an invisible threat.

“It’s okay,” Sunset said. She knelt on the bed in front of Wallflower, forcing herself to smile. “I’m right here with you, Wallflower. I know it’s scary, but I promise you’re not in any danger, okay? No one can hurt you here.”

Again, Wallflower tried to speak, but only pitiful whimpers escaped her lips.

“Just focus on my voice,” Sunset said. “We’re gonna breath together, alright?”

Within Wallflower’s trembling, Sunset recognized a nod. “Concentrate on breathing, okay? In, hold, and out.”

Wallflower inhaled sharply, the breath hitching in her throat. When she tried again, she doubled over as if she’d been punched in the stomach.

“O-okay, you’re okay,” Sunset said, her voice wavering. “It’s safe here. I’m here with you, okay? I’ll keep you safe, and... And...” After a fearful pause, Sunset gently took Wallflower’s hand in her own, supporting them both. “Here, how about this? I-I’m gonna count to five, and you breath in for as long as you can, okay? One, two, th-three...”

As Sunset counted up, she watched Wallflower carefully. The first few breaths were rocky and shaken, but as Sunset counted to five again and again, Wallflower steadied herself a little more each time.

Sunset was starting to feel calmer herself. They were getting through this. “You’re doing great, Wallflower,” she said. “Keep breathing in slowly, just like that. Try holding it for a bit before letting it out, okay? Nice and slow, you’ve got it.”

Wallflower nodded, closing her eyes as she inhaled and exhaled. Sunset realized Wallflower was holding her other hand, too. They stayed there, linked together and breathing in sync. After another minute of paced breaths, Wallflower’s shaking had almost entirely faded.

Sunset gave her a smile. “Feeling better?”

At last, she got a spoken answer. “Y-yes,” Wallflower said, her voice strained.

The relief Sunset felt was almost tangible. “I’m really proud of you, Wallflower,” Sunset said.

“Mhm...”

“Really,” Sunset said. “I know how awful it can be. We got through it, though, and if it happens again then we’ll get through it again.”

Wallflower looked away, as if she was ashamed of something. Sunset leaned over a bit, trying her best to meet her gaze.

“Sorry, let’s just focus on right now,” she said. “What do you need?”

For a moment, Wallflower didn’t move or speak. Then, without a word, she pulled Sunset into a soft hug.

“O-oh,” Sunset whispered to herself. She sighed, smiling, and held Wallflower close. Their embrace held for a while, and as Wallflower rested her head on Sunset’s shoulder, Sunset realized this was the first time they had hugged without either of them being in tears.

It was nice. The thought made her smile even more.

When at last they parted, Sunset spoke softly. “Are you gonna be able to get back to sleep?”

Immediately, Wallflower’s face fell. “I don’t want to,” she mumbled.

Sunset nodded, but in the back of her mind she knew that bed rest was vital for Wallflower—especially after her head injury.

“Well...” Sunset sat upright, thinking for a moment. “Would it help if I stayed up here with you tonight?”

Silence held for a few seconds, then Wallflower whispered, “Yeah...”

“Okay,” Sunset said, standing up. “Gimme a minute, though. I know Pinkie left at least one sleeping bag around here somewhere.”

“You can sleep in the bed with me,” Wallflower said.

Sunset was caught of guard. “O-oh, uhm... Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, is all.”

Wallflower shook her head. “I won’t mind,” she said.

“I mean...” Sunset really hadn’t expected this. It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to sleep in a bed rather than the crummy couch downstairs, but couldn’t this make Wallflower anxious?

Before the wheels of her mind could turn any further, Wallflower looked up at her. She had a terrified look in her eyes, like a child frightened by screaming parents. “Please...” she said in the softest of whimpers.

Sunset sighed, smiling. “Okay,” she said. “Scoot over.”

As soon as Sunset crawled beneath the sheets, Wallflower pressed into her like a puppy scared of a thunderstorm.

“Oh...!” Sunset shifted a bit, initially unsure of how to react. She would have thought that Wallflower would be extremely unhappy with anything like this, but beneath that tangled mess of green hair, Sunset saw a more peaceful expression than she had ever seen on Wallflower before.

It didn’t take long for Sunset to decide that this was pretty nice after all.

X - Idealization of Others

“I think that about covers it,” Sunset said. “If we stick to this budget—tight as it is—we should be okay. At least for the summer, anyway.”

Wallflower looked over from her spot on the couch, her eyes running over the handwritten spreadsheet Sunset held. While the column of expenses had plenty of items solely related to her, the only income listed came from Sunset’s work as a waitress. Even with Sunset’s room-and-board agreement, she would barely be able to get by so long as Wallflower was draining her coffers.

“There has to be something more I can do,” Wallflower said. “I can try to find a job, or—”

“No way,” Sunset said. “What we have here is doable, Wallflower. I’m happy and able to support you for as long as you need.”

“Well... Well what if I wanna support you?” Wallflower huffed. “It’s not right for me to just take and take and not give anything back.”

“The best thing you can do for me is be good to yourself,” Sunset said. “That means taking it easy—it’s only been a few days.”

“I-I know, but...” Wallflower squirmed, guilt gnawing at her thoughts. “Maybe I could look for more fragments of the stone. If we find the one with my parents’ memories... It would make your life a lot easier.”

“What about your life?” Sunset asked. “Do you want to go back to your parents?”

“I mean...” Wallflower sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Honestly, no. I left for a very good reason.”

“Is it alright if I ask what that was?”

“Oh, uhm... Yeah, okay.” Wallflower stiffened up a bit. “So, they’re very religious, and—how should I say this? Traditional?” She deflated as hateful slurs and shouts raged in her memories. “So they don’t care much for tolerating certain kinds of people.”

“I think I see what you’re getting at,” Sunset said.

“In particular, they’re not exactly fond of ‘the queers,’ as Dad so often put it.” Wallflower stared at the floor. “I guess it never occurred to him that his own daughter would be one, too.”

“Oh, Wallflower...” Sunset wrapped an arm around Wallflower’s shoulder, giving her some sense of comfort. “That must have been really awful to come home to each day.”

“I guess, yeah,” Wallflower said, leaning against Sunset. “I used to be a lot more broken up about it, but I mean... After so much time apart, it’s just kinda stupid in retrospect.” She waved a hand, feigning a grouchy expression. “‘You can't be a lesbian, Wallflower! Go to your room and don’t come back until you’re as straight as the stick up my ass!’”

“Pfffffff—!” Sunset laughed, and Wallflower couldn’t help but giggle as well. “Please tell me he actually said that.”

“I may have embellished that bit at the end,” Wallflower said, bearing a sullen smile. “Still... You’re right that it sucked to come home to every day. Honestly, it's a huge part of why I was willing to go to a dance with a guy in the first place. I guess I figured, I dunno, that I could force myself to be more 'normal?' For all the good it did me...”

Sunset said nothing, holding her a little tighter. With a sigh, Wallflower allowed herself to sink in the one-armed embrace. As the two of them fell into silence, she grew more mindful of just how much more at ease she was than usual. For as long as she could remember, a constant sense of anxiety had clung to her at all times, leaving her muscles tensed and her mind on alert every second of every day. In this moment, though, Wallflower recognized how close she was to that long-lost feeling of being calm. Her body was almost entirely relaxed, but her thoughts still buzzed with memories of the past few days.

Despite everything Wallflower had put Sunset through, she was still right here, keeping Wallflower safe just as she had promised last night. Truthfully, Wallflower could not understand what possessed Sunset to be so nice to her. It was all too genuine to be rooted in pity. Maybe Sunset blamed herself for returning Wallflower’s memory, and caring for her was Sunset’s way of making up for it. Wallflower cringed when she thought back to the impulsive accusations she’d made against Sunset that night.

“Hey, Sunset?”

“Yeah?”

“What I said, back on the night I remembered... You know, uhm...” Wallflower sat up a bit. “You know I don’t blame you for any of this, right?”

Wallflower’s heart dropped when Sunset took her hand off her shoulder. Sunset shifted on the couch, turning to face her.

“Of course,” Sunset said, her eyes softening.

Wallflower brushed aside a stray lock of lengthy green hair. “I feel really awful about what I said... About a lot, really. All you’ve done is help me, and in return I-I’ve made your life so much harder in just a few days. And after the thing with the mirror...” She looked away, shrinking into herself. “I guess I just don’t understand why you'd still want me here.”

“Because you need someone supporting you,” Sunset said. “I want to be that person, Wallflower. If I have the ability to help you, I have the responsibility to do so.”

“You don’t need to feel obligated to fix my life,” Wallflower said. “At this point, it’s so fragmented that even if I had someone to help me pick up the pieces, I... I still don’t think we’d have enough to put it back together again.”

“Maybe not the way it was,” Sunset said. “But it doesn’t have to be like it was before to be worth living.”

“I think you’re getting ahead of yourself,” Wallflower said, her words dry with bitterness. “My old life wasn’t exactly great.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t make things better for you in the future," Sunset said.

Wallflower groaned, rubbing her eyes. “I still don’t get it, Sunset,” she said. “Why do you care about my future? Especially after everything you’ve suffered through because of me!”

“I’m not upset with you, Wallflower,” Sunset said. “Even looking back to what happened with the stone, I think your lashing out probably had something to do with what happened to you.”

“What do you mean?” Wallflower asked.

“You told me yourself how you’d been suffering for weeks, even with the memory erased,” Sunset said. “Even if you didn't remember what happened, I think part of it still stayed with you, y’know?”

Wallflower nodded, turning away. “I guess that makes sense,” she said. “But it doesn’t excuse what I did to you—what I’m still doing to you.”

“Wallflower...” Sunset smiled at her. “These past few days have been a lot, but I’ve never blamed you for any of it.”

“How can y-you say that?” Wallflower sniffed, blinking away the mistiness in her eyes. “I tried to kill myself in your bathroom! How are you not angry with me for that?”

“Because it’s not your fault,” Sunset said. “What happened to you... I never could have survived it. I never would have had the strength to unlock that door and let anyone help me.”

“I heard you, Sunset,” Wallflower said, lowering her head. “I heard you pleading and crying and banging on the door, and I just... I did that to you.”

“Wallflower, please don’t expect me to be mad at you.” Sunset sighed, closing her eyes. “I mean yeah, there have been moments when I’ve been scared—so scared that I’m not doing enough, or doing something wrong...”

“What? But you’ve done so much for me,” Wallflower said. “You’ve been nothing but wonderful to me ever since I remembered—before that, even. Taking me in, staying up with me... And what you did for me last night, helping me through that...” She gave Sunset her best attempt at an encouraging smile. “I wish I could that strong if you ever needed it.”

“Y-yeah... I’m doing my best,” Sunset said. “And I know you’re doing your best too.”

Those words were enough to turn Wallflower’s forced smile into a genuine one. She and Sunset sat in silence for a moment, until Sunset spoke up beside her.

“Hey, uhm... Can I show you something?”

“What is it?” Wallflower asked.

Sunset took a deep breath, and then another. “Okay,” she said. “I’ve never told anyone about this, so... Here goes, I guess.”

With that, Sunset pulled the hem of her knee-length skirt back to reveal her right leg. All across the top of Sunset’s thigh, faint scars—long since healed—criss-crossed over each other, their thin lines spreading unevenly outward. Immersed within them were a few scars which were thicker and more reddened than all the others.

“S-so... Yeah.” The sound of Sunset’s voice made Wallflower realize she was holding her breath. Her eyes snapped up to meet Sunset’s own, which were downcast and full of apprehension.

“Sunset, I...” As the initial shock began to wear off, Wallflower was overcome with confusion. “I had no idea,” she said. “You always seemed, I dunno...”

“Like I have it together,” Sunset finished. “It’s pretty dumb, I know, because I do have it together—at least in terms of like, life stuff. I have great friends, my own place, all these good things.” She sighed, her shoulders hunching. “But before all that, when I was still bitter and angry and awful to everyone, I’d come home every night and just... Sit in silence. I’d go whole weekends without speaking a word out loud, just because I had no one to talk to.”

Wallflower shifted in her seat, grimacing. “I know what that’s like,” she said.

Sunset gave her a sad smile. “You handled it much better than I did,” she said. “For all those years I was on my own, even though I would never admit it... Deep down, I hated myself. I’d given up so much and hurt so many people because I couldn’t get over my own stupid pride. And every night, as soon as the lights went out, I was alone with my thoughts.” She wiped away a tear. “It didn’t take that long for those thoughts to turn on me. I guess hurting myself made them stop, if only for a little while.”

In her periphery, Wallflower saw Sunset’s hand shaking. Without thinking, she took gentle hold of it. “Do you still...?”

“No, not anymore,” Sunset said, to which Wallflower felt a little relief. “I haven’t for, I dunno... Two months now? Something like that.”

“That’s still more recent than I would have thought,” Wallflower said, before immediately regretting her choice of words. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, I get it,” Sunset said. “From the outside looking in, you’d think I would have stopped after I finally found friends. A-and they did help, for sure. But, I mean...” She exhaled heavily, leaning back into the couch. “Aside from a few sleepovers or whatever, I was still alone from the moment I got home until I left the next day. A lot can build up in that time, y’know?”

"I do,” Wallflower said. “Self-loathing becomes routine.”

“That’s exactly what it was,” Sunset said. “A routine. Every night I would hurt myself, even when I didn’t feel like I needed it. After a while, it became like... Like a way to pass the time, just another thing to do.” She sighed, sinking further into the cushions. “Eventually it was the only thing to do.”

“Well...” Wallflower held Sunset’s hand a little tighter. “I’m glad you were able to stop.”

“Me too,” Sunset said. “Although if I’m being honest, I still want to do it. Especially when I feel alone. Which sometimes happens even when I'm out there, around other people.”

“I never would've thought crippling loneliness was something we'd have in common,” Wallflower said.

“Yeah... I really wish I’d met you sooner.” Sunset paused, then looked up. “I mean like talked to you, sorry. I know we met before, uhm...”

“It’s okay, Sunset,” Wallflower said. “I understand what you mean.”

Relief flashed in Sunset’s eyes. “I guess I’m just trying to say that... That you’re not alone in struggling, y’know? That it’s okay for you to not be okay, because I'm not okay either. And I hope this doesn’t sound too selfish, but having you here really helps me, too.”

“That...” Wallflower’s voice wavered with a feeling she couldn’t describe. “That makes me really happy.”

“You said you wished you could be as strong as me,” Sunset said. She gave Wallflower a gentle smile. “But the truth is that you already are.”

Wallflower felt her heart stirring as a flurry of emotions ran through her. Silence held for a second longer, and then she and Sunset embraced. In that moment, Wallflower at last found the total tranquility that had been lost to her for so long.

XI - Impulsive Decisions

Sunset readjusted the paper bag in her arms as she exited the grocery store, the automatic doors sliding shut behind her. Her phone was buzzing incessantly, indicating yet another wave of text messages, and she already knew what they’d say. As she made her way across the parking lot and towards the sidewalk, she held her bag in one arm and pulled her phone from her pocket.

Just as expected, half a dozen texts from an equal number of contacts were asking if she was interested in going to some kind of party. Seconds later, Sunset sent a simple reply, denying the request and apologizing. Hanging out with her friends was always enjoyable, but she had other plans tonight, just as she did every time they asked.

She pocketed her phone, sighing. Sunset loathed the thought of leaving Wallflower—someone who constantly struggled with feeling excluded—all alone so that she could go to a party. It’s not like Wallflower would be willing to go with her either, and Sunset could hardly blame her, given what she’d been through. Wallflower had seldom left the apartment in the several weeks they’d been living together, and she would only do so if Sunset accompanied her. Even then, Sunset could only take Wallflower out for so long before her guest’s mounting anxiety forced them to return home.

She leaned against a telephone pole as she waited for the crosswalk. The more Sunset thought about it, the more she realized Wallflower wasn’t really her guest anymore. Her apartment had become their apartment, their mutual home. Honestly, Sunset was more than happy with the change. Spending time at her apartment was much more enjoyable now that she had someone to spend that time with. It only helped that in the few short weeks Wallflower had been staying with her, she had grown quite attached to Sunset, and the two of them now had a bond that felt far more resilient than the one Sunset shared with her friends.

As wonderful as all the girls were, Sunset had recently been confronted by the bitter truth that they would be just fine without her. It had always been a long-standing fear of hers, and it was proven when her friends’ good memories of her were erased. Even without Sunset, they had fallen into a nearly identical friendship dynamic, as if Sunset’s presence had never mattered to begin with. She was expendable to them, even if they didn’t think so now.

She and Wallflower had a different kind of closeness. They lived together, ate together, even slept in the same bed together. Wallflower needed her, and Sunset was beginning to accept that she needed Wallflower too.

Sunset crossed the street, arriving at her apartment building. She grunted to herself as she tried to pull her keys from her pocket while juggling her several grocery bags. After a few more seconds of fiddling with the key ring, she finally succeeding in turning the rusted lock to her apartment. She turned around, using her elbow to push the handle down and again to open the door.

“Wally?” she called out. “I’m home, could you help me with these bags?”

“Oh!” Sunset saw Wallflower’s head peek over the loft railing. “Sure, just a sec.” In moments, Wallflower was rushing down the stairs and across the room. She threaded her arm through the handles of a couple grocery bags and took them from Sunset’s grasp. “Where should I put these?”

“Uhm, just over by the fridge is fine,” Sunset said. “Most of those are veggies anyway.”

“Bottom shelf, right?” Wallflower asked.

“Yeah, just push aside the, uhh...” Sunset stood still for a moment, then shrugged. “The whatever the heck is in there, I dunno.” She stepped past Wallflower and placed the rest of the bags down on the table. “Probably leftover takeout or something.”

As soon as Wallflower closed the door of the tiny fridge, she turned and wrapped Sunset in a tight hug. Sunset sighed, leaning slightly into the embrace. “Miss me much?”

“Maybe a bit,” Wallflower said, giving a little squeeze. “I get pretty lonely without you here, y’know?”

“I was only gone for an hour, Wallflower.”

“I-I know!” Wallflower finally released Sunset from her affectionate vice grip. “I just got bored, is all.”

“You could always start on that list of great shows I gave you,” Sunset said. “Y’know, the ones you really need to watch?”

“Well, yeah, but...” Wallflower shifted back and forth, brushing a lock of green hair over her ear. “I was kinda hoping we could watch them together.”

Sunset couldn’t help but smile. “It’s pretty late, but maybe we can watch something after dinner,” she said. “Speaking of which, do rice and veggies sound okay?”

“Mhmm.” Wallflower nodded. “Anything I can do to help?”

Sunset thought about it for a moment. There were two things that needed doing—boiling the water and chopping the vegetables. Her eyes flicked to the bathroom door, and a brief grimace flashed across her face. Even if Wallflower seemed fine right now, Sunset still wasn’t about to hand her a knife.

She blinked, her mind returning to the present. “Can you get the water started? Oh, and the hot plate may be unplugged, so check that first.”

“You got it!” Wallflower grinned,

As Wallflower set about her task, Sunset began dicing the vegetables. “Any idea which show you wanna start with?” she asked.

“Not really,” Wallflower said. “You can choose. I’m just happy to have someone to watch stuff with.”

“Yeah... It really does make things better,” Sunset sighed.

It was good to be home.

Sunset crawled beneath the comforter, sliding into her usual spot on the right side of the bed. Beside her, Wallflower flipped back and forth through the pages of the book she held—some cheesy romance novel they had found at a garage sale last week.

“So how are you liking it?” Sunset said, smirking.

“It’s, uhm...” Wallflower averted her eyes, redness spreading on her cheeks. “It’s okay. Pretty lovey-dovey, to be honest, but that’s not always a bad thing, y’know?”

Sunset shrugged. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Oh, you can turn off the lamp if you want,” Wallflower said. “I’m done with this anyway.” She unceremoniously tossed the book on the floor.

“Yeesh, I thought you liked it,” Sunset said. “Good thing it’s paperback.”

“Oh c’mon, garage sale books are the best ones to throw around.”

“Fair enough,” Sunset said. She reached out and pulled the lamp cord beside her, and the loft fell into darkness. Like clockwork, Wallflower scooted over and snuggled into Sunset, just as she had done every night since her panic attack. If the best way for Sunset to help keep the nightmares away was to sleep in comfort and warmth instead of on the couch, that was a sacrifice she was more than willing to make.

She relaxed further into the sheets. Beneath the comforter, she felt Wallflower’s hand searching for her own, and a moment later their fingers were laced together.

Sunset sighed, a smile growing on her lips as she closed her eyes. This was nice. Every night, she was surprised by how nice it was. Whatever loneliness had preyed on her in the past was long gone, along with all the depression and self-destructive behavior that spawned from it.

Just as she began to drift off, something shifted beside her. Sunset’s eyes blinked open as Wallflower lifted her head from her shoulder.

“Hey, Sunset?” Wallflower whispered, her expression unreadable in the darkness of the loft.

“Yeah?” Sunset sat up. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, y-yeah, nothing’s wrong at all. I guess, just... I-I dunno, uhm...” Wallflower fumbled over her words, nervousness creeping into her voice.

Sunset put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay,” she said. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Wallflower sighed. “I do. And I’m so thankful for that—for you. You’ve done so much for me, ever since, uhm... Since I remembered what h-he...” She paused, and Sunset sat patiently as Wallflower took a deep breath. “...Since I remembered what happened. Letting me stay here, taking care of me, being there for me... I can’t thank you enough.”

“And you’ll never have to.” Sunset smiled.

Wallflower shifted around, kneeling on the bed beside Sunset. “The night I got my memory back, it was like... It was like a full month’s worth of all that pain just came crashing down all at once. I thought my life was over—I wanted it to be over.” She sighed, wiping her eyes. “But you were there for me. You wouldn’t let me be alone, even when I pushed you away and screamed at you to leave. Sometimes I’m still surprised that there’s someone in my life who cares about me that much...”

“Of course I do,” Sunset said. “I want to support you however I can, Wallflower. I really care about you. ”

“See, that’s kinda the thing. You show how much you care with everything you do for me,” Wallflower said. “And for a while I’ve been, I dunno... Confused about how I can show how much I care about you.” Even in the dark, Sunset could see Wallflower smiling. “You make me feel safe, Sunset. That’s something I’ve never had before.”

“Oh, Wally...” Sunset couldn’t help but grin. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Wallflower scooted over until she was right in front of Sunset. “I think I have it figured out, though. How to show you how much I care.”

“I already know how much you, uhm...” Sunset trailed off when she realized Wallflower had inched closer, and tingling feeling rushed through her as she met Wallflower's lidded gaze. “Wally...?”

Wallflower took a deep breath, and her shoulders shuddered a bit, as if a shiver had run up her spine. A nervous smile crossed her lips as she spoke. “I... I hope you like this."

Without another word, Wallflower began drifting closer. Sunset watched, paralyzed by something, as the distance between them grew smaller and smaller.

Then, in the space of a blink, Sunset surrendered to an urge she didn’t know she had and closed her eyes as their lips met.

The world around them fell into slow motion. Sunset's thoughts evaporated as Wallflower pressed further into the kiss, and she hardly noticed her own breathless sigh as she started losing herself in the soft, steady rhythm. The kiss broke apart, only for their lips to come together again, and again, and—

Sunset’s eyes shot open and she pushed Wallflower away.

“Wha...” Wallflower sat up. “S-Sunset, what’s wrong?”

Sunset didn’t reply. This was wrong. Doing that was wrong. Feeling what she’d just felt was wrong.

It had only been a month since Wallflower remembered what happened. If Sunset closed her eyes, she could still see the memory she had witnessed. She could see Wallflower trapped beneath him, sobbing and shivering as he played with her body. She could hear her crying out in agony as he ripped her open and stabbed into her over and over and over. She could feel the depths of her disgust and self-loathing as she was forced to whimper and shudder with pleasure against her will.

Sunset knew how damaged Wallflower was. She knew it wasn’t okay for them to do this. She knew it could possibly wind up hurting Wallflower even more.

“Sunset, please,” Wallflower said, her voice shaky. “Say something.”

Just as Sunset was about to speak, her mind presented her with a question—if Wallflower and her kissing was wrong... Why had she enjoyed it so much?

“I-I...” Sunset struggled to find an answer. Until only a few moments ago, Sunset had never even thought about this kind of relationship. Wallflower had been the one to kiss her, though, so Sunset had no doubts that Wallflower wanted to be with her. Now that the choice was before her, Sunset realized that she was more than okay with that, too.

Sunset shook her head. Wallflower had been raped. The last thing Sunset wanted to do was stir up that trauma through any kind of intimacy. Just because Wallflower said she wanted this didn’t mean it was a good idea, right?

“I don’t... Wallflower...”

That kind of thinking was a double-edged sword, though. Were Sunset to take that idea and run with it, she would be discounting what Wallflower wanted based on the belief that she didn’t know enough about romance or sex to make her own decisions—which was the exact same justification Wallflower’s attacker had given just before he’d assaulted her.

“I-I’m sorry...” Wallflower hung her head, and even through the darkness, Sunset could see the glint of tears brimming in her eyes. “You didn’t like th-that and... And I did it anyway and I shouldn’t have, I’m s-s-sorry...!”

“No, Wally, hey...” Sunset spoke softly. “That’s not it. You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, doing her best to choose the right words. “I... I did like it. That’s not the problem.”

Wallflower sniffed, wiping her eyes. “Th-then what is?”

“I don’t know,” Sunset sighed. “I just... I need time to think about this, okay?”

“Okay,” Wallflower spoke just above a whisper. “Will you still stay up here tonight...?”

“Of course,” Sunset said, returning her head to the pillow. “Besides, I don’t think I could go back to sleeping on the couch even if I wanted to.”

“O-okay. Thank you.” Wallflower laid down beside Sunset, pressing into her and warming them both. “It really does help,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” Sunset said. She closed her eyes, her own head resting on Wallflower’s. “No matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere.”

XII - Unstable Relationships

Sunset made her way up the stairs, collapsing into the bed. While the day had been nothing out of the ordinary—wake up, go to work, come home—the looming prospect of discussing the events of last night with Wallflower made every moment drag on twice as long. It hadn’t helped that neither of them had spoken much in the hour since Sunset had gotten home.

A wayward glance at her phone revealed a blinking blue LED, no doubt indicating several unread texts from her friends. She frowned and turned the phone over. She had more important things to deal with right now. Besides, whatever social gathering they were planning would no doubt be just as enjoyable without her.

The only sounds in the apartment were Sunset’s own anxious breaths and the bathroom sink downstairs, where Wallflower was brushing her teeth before bed. Sunset fidgeted beneath the sheets, still unsure of how to mentally prepare herself for the conversation they were about to have. She knew what question Wallflower was about to ask her, and she also knew that she still didn’t have an answer.

The sounds of the sink faded away, and Sunset bit her lip. Moments later, Wallflower ascended the stairs, and Sunset scooted over to make room for her. Aside from what had yet to be said, it was almost the same routine as every other night.

Then Wallflower climbed into bed and their gazes met. Neither spoke, and Sunset wracked her brain, hoping against hope that she could find the answer that had evaded her for the entire day. When the silence had stretched on for long enough, though, it was Wallflower who at last broke it.

“Y’know...” Wallflower looked away, the tiniest of smiles on her face. “I’d never kissed anyone before last night.”

Sunset shifted as Wallflower’s gaze returned to her, anxiety and eagerness filling the pit in her stomach.

“It was really nice,” Wallflower said. She brushed aside a stray lock of her bangs, and Sunset could see the redness spreading on her cheeks. “At least I think so.”

Sunset's mind brought her back to the exact moment their lips had touched, reminding her of every tender detail in the brief seconds of softness that followed. "It was," she said. A second later, when she finally processed her own words, a shiver danced through her, and she scolded herself for such an impulsive response.

“Mmmm... I’m glad you liked it.” Wallflower leaned forward, her smiling face only inches from Sunset’s own. “It makes me really happy that my first kiss was with you,” she said. Her voice softened as she lightly touched Sunset's burning cheek. "I bet the second one will be even better..."

“I, uh...” Sunset tried and failed to think of something to say. All she could do was watch, frozen by anticipation and excitement as Wallflower drew closer and closer, her eyes closing, their lips about to—

“Wait, n-no, we shouldn’t...” Sunset pulled away. She threw off the comforter and sat on the edge of the bed, burying her face in her hands. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she said, more to herself than to Wallflower.

“I don’t understand,” Wallflower said. She sounded so confused, so hurt... When she spoke, her voice was quiet and distraught, and it nearly broke Sunset’s heart. “I... I thought you wanted this.”

“That’s not—Nnnghh...” Sunset groaned, gripping her hair as she turned away. She stood up, flares of anxiety and concern clashing with her renewed wish for intimacy and connection. Sunset had no idea which side would win out—or which one she wanted to win out. “That’s not the problem, Wallflower,” she said. “It's barely been a month since you remembered. I know you’ve been doing a lot better recently, but... But I’m really worried that this will end badly.”

Wallflower got up from the bed, her arms slipping around Sunset's waist from behind. “I’m not that fragile, Sunset,” she said. “I know you’re worried. You’re worried because you care about me, and I appreciate it so, so much.” After a pause, she held Sunset a little tighter. “It’ll be okay, I promise. I really do want this. I want to show you how much I care about you.”

Sunset stood motionless, unable—or unwilling—to leave Wallflower’s embrace. Electricity shot through her as she felt Wallflower's feather-soft touch just above the waistband of her pajamas, and for a fleeting moment, a primal thing in the back of her head wished for Wallflower's hand to drift further down. Suddenly, Sunset's mind was buzzing with daydreams of all the intimate activities the two of them might share together if she gave in to her urges—only for it to snap back to confusion and worry.

This was all happening too fast, wasn't it? She and Wallflower had only been living together for a month, and earlier in that month, Wallflower had tried to kill herself right here in their apartment. While she seemingly hadn't been suffering from nightmares since the two of them started sharing a bed, her dream that Sunset had seen a few weeks ago had been so terrifying that Wallflower woke up to a panic attack. Even Sunset herself was still bothered by what she had witnessed.

Things were okay right now, but she and Wallflower were balancing on a knife's edge. Rushing into a romantic relationship—or even having one at all—would only make their difficult situation even more complex, maybe even dangerous.

Still, as much as Sunset didn’t want to admit it to herself, Wallflower was right. She did want this. She wanted it more than anything, and she was just as incapable of silencing that impulsive excitement as she was at silencing her fears that this was a really, really bad idea.

Sunset's thoughts were interrupted when Wallflower let go of her waist. Wallflower stepped back, and Sunset heard the rustling of clothes behind her, followed by the soft sound of a shirt falling to the floor. She shifted in place, her heart beating a little faster.

“Sunset.” Wallflower placed a hand on her shoulder. With a trembling sigh, Sunset shut her eyes as tight as she could. Slowly, she turned around, until she felt Wallflower’s other hand on her other shoulder.

“Sunset, look at me,” Wallflower spoke softly. “Please.”

Sunset held her breath as she opened her eyes. Wallflower stood before her, staring longingly at her with those deep brown eyes. Her lips were curved into a gentle smile, and her head tilted slightly as she moved just a little bit closer. Her hair fell over her bare shoulders and down her back, framing her body and drawing Sunset's gaze lower. As much as Sunset tried to keep her eyes locked with Wallflower’s, she inevitably looked down, and her breathing immediately faltered.

Wallflower was completely uncovered from the waist up. Her exposed chest was only inches away from touching Sunset, and Sunset could have sworn Wallflower was swaying back and forth. In her periphery, she saw Wallflower’s smile growing as Sunset stared at her breasts, unable to look away.

Despite her popularity and often-thriving social life, Sunset had never been with another girl. She had never been with anyone. She honestly never really wanted to, even wondering for a time if she might be some degree of asexual. If anything was ever going to change that, she expected she would know it when she saw it—if she ever saw it at all.

In Wallflower's tender smile, Sunset at last discovered that impossible adoration she hadn't believed existed. Every past opportunity for romance in her life always felt wrong for some reason, but now the boundless well of affection Sunset had given up on finding was standing right in front of her, patiently waiting for her touch. Even still, warnings and wariness lingered on the fringes of her mind, tainting her burning desire to share herself that she still fought to suppress and ignore.

Wallflower stepped closer, her arms sliding around Sunset once more. Sunset found herself holding Wallflower as well, and her fingers moved on their own, tracing slowly along the small of the shorter girl’s back.

Sweat tickled Sunset’s forehead, and her breaths grew slower and heavier. Wallflower was so close—all Sunset had to do was lean forward, and Wallflower would have her second kiss. Even as Sunset stayed motionless, her hands continued their autonomous movements up and down Wallflower's back, and a sigh escaped her as Wallflower held her close.

All the while, Wallflower kept staring at her, remaining completely silent. Her eyes were alive with affection. Her fingers were just barely dipping beneath the hem of Sunset's shirt. Her breasts were pressing against Sunset’s own. Her skin was smooth and soft to the touch, and her lips looked even softer.

After last night, Sunset already knew that they were. They were so, so soft... Soft and warm. She blinked, her own lips parting a bit as she let out a shaky exhale.

“Can you tell me that you don’t want me?” Wallflower asked.

“I-I don’t like lying,” Sunset whispered.

“Good.” Wallflower grinned. “Because I want you.”

“I... Wallflower...” A frenzy of conflicting feelings fought for control of Sunset’s mind. It was way too soon for Wallflower to be doing anything like this, right? Well... If that was the case, wouldn’t Wallflower know it better than Sunset? She said she wanted this, and even without her geode, Sunset could tell she meant it. How was it fair for Sunset to essentially call her a liar? But if Wallflower really wanted it, and Sunset really wanted it, then why was Sunset still so apprehensive?

“I know you’re worried, but I promise it's okay.” Wallflower pressed herself forward a little more, still holding Sunset’s gaze. “This is my choice.”

Sunset averted her eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you...”

“Oh, Sunset...” Wallflower sighed, resting her head against Sunset’s chest as if the two of them were slow dancing. “You could never hurt me.”

Sunset shivered as Wallflower rubbed her back, and again when she realized she was returning the favor. Her hands continued to caress Wallflower's bare skin, drifting up and around, almost to her breasts. Even as Sunset reveled in the softness beneath her touch, shame and fear swelled within her. “I’ve hurt people before,” she said. “I’ve hurt you before.”

“But things are different now.” Wallflower looked up at Sunset with those bright, beautiful eyes of hers. “I know I’m safe with you.”

“I mean...” Sunset stared at her, hope edging into her words. “We’d have to take it slow.”

Wallflower nodded. “If you say so.”

Sunset squirmed, unsure as to why she was still clinging to her last shreds of anxiety. “And you’re not scared?” she asked. “After, y’know...”

Wallflower blinked, almost as if she was surprised. “Of course not. How could I ever be scared with you, Sunset?” She smiled sweetly. “I love you.”

The second Sunset heard those words, the entire world froze. Her thoughts were overrun as she swam through thousands of memories, recalling every interaction between herself and her friends, herself and Celestia, herself and anyone she’d ever known, all the while searching for something she knew she wouldn't find. In an instant, Wallflower’s words broke through a lifetime of isolation and depression, and when Sunset’s focus at last returned to the present, her eyes were brimming with tears.

“Sunset...?” Wallflower spoke softly, her voice unmistakably nervous. “Are you okay? I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“N-no, I’m okay,” Sunset said, interrupting her. She wiped the tears from her eyes, and with them went the last of her doubts. “Sorry, it's just... No one’s ever told me that before.”

Wallflower’s beaming expression was the most beautiful thing in the world. A smile at last broke free on Sunset’s face, and when Wallflower stood on her toes to match her height, Sunset gladly leaned forward to meet her. They shared a long, loving kiss, and Sunset’s heart erupted with pure joy.

XIII - Social Impairment

Sunset ran her washcloth back and forth across the table, wiping away crumbs and little drops of sauces. It was one of many tables in need of cleaning, but as soon as she was done, her shift would end and she could go home.

Her heart fluttered as she thought back to last night, and the night before that, and the night before that. Every evening for weeks, Sunset had come home and been pulled into a warm embrace by Wallflower. Now, though, those hugs were punctuated by a soft, loving kiss.

Every time Sunset thought about those special moments they shared, she was shocked and enraptured all over again. As much as she had been trying to take things slow for the sake of caution, Wallflower definitely wasn’t making that easy. What began as occasional kisses and spooning in bed had quickly evolved into passionate stretches of kissing and touching, all at Wallflower’s constant encouragement.

Wallflower’s enthusiasm was as confusing as it was enjoyable. Sunset would have expected her to be extremely restrained or even uncomfortable, but her actions had been the complete opposite. Brief flashes of memory were enough to turn Sunset’s face red, even as she was in the middle of wiping down tables. The few times Wallflower’s hands found their way under Sunset’s shirt, Sunset had barely been able to stop herself from leading them lower instead. She couldn't blame herself for the thought, though. Self-control was difficult to maintain while being felt up by her girlfriend.

Just thinking that word still felt so strange. She had a girlfriend, someone to hold her and kiss her and say she loved her every day. If Sunset was being honest with herself, it was extremely surprising. Romantic intimacy was the last thing she would have expected Wallflower—or even herself—to have wanted, and yet here they were, partners in a blossoming relationship. Maybe it was a sign that Wallflower was moving forward by not allowing her trauma to prevent her from expressing her feelings.

Those feelings were communicated often and clearly, much to Sunset’s delight. Whenever she was home, not an hour went by without Wallflower telling Sunset that she loved her. Less than a week ago, Sunset had never heard those words spoken to her before—now she was hearing them every day, and her heart soared every single time. Maybe one day soon, Sunset would be able to say it too.

She sighed as she moved to the next table. How strange that it took something so horrible to bring her and Wallflower together. Her life had changed so much since the night Wallflower remembered, and she was almost ashamed to admit it was for the better.

As Sunset finished cleaning off another table, her drifting thoughts were grounded by a voice behind her. She turned around to see familiar purple curls bobbing ever-so-slightly as Rarity approached her.

“Sunset!” Rarity smiled, giving her a brief hug. “Oh, it’s so good to see you darling. It’s been far too long!”

“Uhm, yeah. Good to see you too,” Sunset said. “What, uh... What are you doing here?”

“I figured I’d stop by and see if you were around,” Rarity said. “I would have sent you a message first, but—ahem—you haven’t been very responsive as of late.”

Sunset frowned. She had planned to return to Wallflower as soon as her shift ended, but Rarity would no doubt make that difficult. “Sorry. I’ve been pretty busy,” she said. “Here I am, I guess.”

“And I am so glad to see that, dear. After such a long stretch of silence, I was starting to get worried.”

“That’s nice of you,” Sunset said. “But as much as I appreciate it, you really don’t need to be concerned.”

“We haven’t heard from you in over a week,” Rarity said. “You stopped responding to calls or texts or anything. How could we not be concerned?”

“I dunno,” Sunset said. Her mind lingered on memories of how her friends had acted after forgetting her, of how she had watched them from afar, of how they continued enjoying themselves as if nothing was missing from their lives at all. A sudden bitterness clung to her heart as she responded. “I figured you wouldn’t really mind.”

“What?” Rarity said. “Of course we do! Things just aren’t the same when you’re not around.”

Sunset rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”

“Sunset, please.” Rarity’s voice softened. “I can tell something’s been wrong, and I’d like to help if I can.”

With a drawn-out sigh, Sunset turned away and resumed clearing the table. “There’s nothing wrong, Rarity. I’ve just had my hands full, is all.”

“With that Wallflower girl, correct?” Rarity asked.

At that, Sunset paused her task, anxiety clawing at the fringes of her thoughts. Rarity was definitely heading towards the one topic Sunset really wanted to avoid. Keeping her promise of silence to Wallflower was difficult enough without Rarity prying for information, but short of walking away entirely, Sunset didn’t see a way out of the conversation. She tightened her grip on the washcloth, frowning. Might as well get it over with.

“Yeah, she’s been staying with me,” she said flatly. “Is that a problem?”

“Of course not, darling,” Rarity said.

“Alright then,” Sunset said. As nice as it would be for the conversation would end there, Rarity was never that easy.

“Well, I mean... It’s not a problem, but if you have been so busy, perhaps there’s something the rest of us could do to help? I did have the most marvelous idea of putting together a monthly care package for the both of you, though I thought it best to ask first.”

Sunset groaned. All she wanted was to finish up her shift and go home to Wallflower, and every second this conversation continued was delaying that goal. Still, Rarity’s offer was obviously rooted in genuine concern. Turning her down would just be rude. “I’m okay myself, thanks,” she said. “But if you wanted to get Wallflower anything, I could give you some ideas.”

“Wonderful!” Rarity’s eyes lit up. “Perhaps I could make her an outfit other than that oh-so-drab sweater of hers. Earthen tones are difficult to work with, but her complexion would just be perfect!”

“I’m sure she’d love that, Rarity,” Sunset said. “Maybe run any designs by me first, though. She’s pretty picky about what she wears.”

“I’ll do you one better,” Rarity said. “I can run them by her myself when I come over to take measurements!”

At that, Sunset grimaced. There was absolutely no way Wallflower would allow Rarity to touch her at all, let alone take her measurements. Even the idea of inviting anyone else into their apartment would make Wallflower really uneasy, and at this point it even made Sunset a little uncomfortable.

“I don’t think that’s gonna be possible,” Sunset said. When Rarity’s face immediately fell into a pout, Sunset tried to choose the best words to let her down easy. “Wallflower’s just pretty shy, is all. Besides, the more I think about it, she wouldn’t be very interested in an extravagant outfit anyway.”

Rarity deflated a little more. “It is what it is, I suppose,” she said.

“Maybe instead you could get her some flower pots and seeds or something.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Rarity said. “She’s all about plants.”

“Uhm... Yeah.” Sunset shrugged. “I’m sure she’d appreciate, uh... Plants.”

“I’ll get right on it, darling,” Rarity said. “Perhaps I could hand them off to you at Pinkie’s little soirée this weekend?”

Of course Rarity would try to invite her to something. The notion returned Sunset’s thoughts to how well the rest of the girls got on without her, and didn’t take long for her mood to sour once more.

“I can’t make it, sorry.” Sunset turned away from Rarity, moving to the next messy table.

Rarity blinked, almost as if she was surprised. “Well... That’s a shame, then.” She perked up. “Oh, but perhaps we could move it to a time better suited to your schedule?”

Sunset frowned, her mind stuck somewhere between exasperation and anger. “I’ll be busy for a while,” she said.

“Alright Sunset...” Rarity sighed. “I’ve been patient, I really have. All of us have. But at this point, it feels as though you’re deliberately avoiding us.”

Sunset almost laughed. There was a sense of irony at her friends being upset by her doing anything without them, and the thought only pulled her further into bitterness. Whether or not Rarity would admit it, they didn’t need her, and she didn’t need them. The only person she needed was waiting for her at home.

“I’m not avoiding you, Rarity,” Sunset said, her voice stiff and measured. “I just have my own things going on.”

“What things, dear?” Rarity asked. “All you’ve said is that Wallflower has been staying with you.”

Sunset refused to meet Rarity’s gaze. “Because that’s all there is to say,” she said.

Rarity moved around the table and back into view. “That was over a month ago,” she said. “We’ve hardly seen or heard from you since.”

“I told you...” Sunset gritted her teeth. “I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to even speak to your friends?” Rarity said. “Somehow I doubt that.”

Anger flared in Sunset’s chest, and she turned around, glaring daggers at Rarity. “Alright, you’ve clearly got something to say,” she said. “So say it.”

Rarity sighed, her hands fidgeting. “I suppose there’s nothing else to do than put it bluntly. You’re spending all your time with Wallflower, and we never see you anymore. I’d like to know why.”

For a brief moment, Sunset froze up, and when her apprehension thawed, her expression beneath it was hardened and stern. “That’s none of your business,” she said.

“I beg to differ,” Rarity said, causing Sunset to tense up even more. “It’s keeping me from seeing my friend, and as such it is very much my business. Whatever’s going on, I think I deserve to know.”

Sunset’s frown fell into a scowl. It was one thing for Rarity to be concerned about Sunset’s absence, but it was another entirely for her to say she deserved to know what Wallflower had been through. The only other person who knew was Fluttershy, and that was only because Wallflower herself had told her. The idea that Rarity wanted that same trust, for no other reason than she felt like she deserved it, wasn’t just laughable—it was insulting.

“You don’t deserve to know anything,” Sunset said, irritation dripping from her every word.

“Sunset, please...”

“I have work to do, Rarity,” she said. “You said you wanted to see me, and you saw me.”

“I wanted to speak to you,” Rarity said. “Not just lay eyes on you.”

Sunset rolled her eyes. “Well you did that too. Mission accomplished.”

“Honestly,” Rarity said. “Now you’re just being rude.”

“I’m being rude?” Sunset raised her voice. “You’re the one who accosted me while I’m trying to do my job!”

“If this is how you’re going to act, then fine,” Rarity said. “I hope Twilight and Rainbow Dash have better luck talking some sense into you.”

“Seriously?” Sunset scoffed. “What, are you all gonna take shifts harassing me at work?”

Rarity sighed. “Must you assume the worst? No one wants to harass you, Sunset. We just miss our friend.”

Sunset finished clearing another table and moved on to the next. “That’s really sweet Rarity, but showing up here unannounced and berating me when I won’t fuel your gossip habit is pretty close to harassment in my book.”

“I never meant to upset you, Sunset,” Rarity said. “I just wanted to reconnect. Is that so wrong?”

“When I want to reconnect, I’ll reach out to you,” Sunset said.

“If that’s what you want, fine,” Rarity said. “Just don’t expect all the other girls to stop looking for you.”

“What, did you form a search party?”

“I, uhm... I suppose so?” Rarity said. “Pinkie and Fluttershy are checking around the school, Applejack wanted to drive around to check a few other places, and I decided to look here. Rainbow Dash insisted on being the one to check your apartment, and Twilight went with her.”

When she heard that, Sunset’s heart almost stopped. “They’re looking there right now?”

“Maybe? I think they’re heading over after Rainbow’s soccer practice ends,” Rarity said.

All at once, every muscle in Sunset’s body tensed up. Rainbow Dash was going to show up at their apartment, demanding Sunset answer the door. Sunset stiffened even more when she realized that the girls knew Wallflower was there too. They may demand she answer—and Wallflower was there all alone.

Sunset dropped her washcloth. “I need to get home,” she said, her voice wavering. “Did you come here in your car?”

“I did,” Rarity said. She crossed her arms, frowning. “Though with how you’ve been talking to me, I’m not so sure I should—”

“Rarity!” Sunset snapped. “Wallflower’s there by herself and Rainbow Dash is gonna show up pounding on the door!” Desperation seeped into the cracks in her rising voice. “Please, I need to get home, right now!”

For a split second, Rarity was silent, her eyes widening. Then, she nodded. “I parked just outside. If we hurry, I think I can get you there before them.”

Sunset turned, glancing briefly at all the tables she had yet to clean off. There was no time to tell her manager she was leaving—a text sent from the car would have to do. She bit her lip, scolding herself in hindsight for not getting Wallflower at least some kind of cheap phone.

Without a word, she started towards the parking lot with Rarity not far behind. In her head, Sunset obsessively ran over scenario after scenario of how long it might take to get home, what she would have to say to Rainbow Dash and Twilight, and—Goddess forbid—what she would find if the two of them got there before her.

Sunset shook her head, her brisk pace breaking into a run.

XIV - Hypervigilance

Sunset fidgeted in the passenger seat of Rarity’s car, staring intensely at her phone. After several calls and texts to both Twilight and Rainbow Dash, she still had yet to get a response. Whether that was a good sign or a bad one, she couldn’t tell. Sighing, she let her phone fall into her lap.

Her head spun with one horrid scenario after another. She envisioned Wallflower’s anxiety crashing over her like a wave as the first knocks came at the door. She shuddered at the thought of Wallflower trembling and hyperventilating, huddled in a corner as Rainbow Dash’s repeated shouts forced her into a panic attack. Her heart skipped several beats as she imagined Wallflower locking herself in the bathroom with a kitchen knife, desperately slashing at her veins in a frenzied attempt to escape the terrors overwhelming her.

“How soon until we get there?” Sunset asked.

“Uhm, it’s your apartment, Sunset,” Rarity said. “I think you would know better than me.”

“Well I don’t have a car, Rarity!” Sunset snapped. “I don’t know the lights or traffic or whatever!” A second later, Sunset shook her head with a sigh. A short temper wouldn’t help anyone right now. “I’m sorry for shouting... I’m just really worried right now,” she said. “And, uhh, thanks for driving me. I really do appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Rarity said. “Though if I may ask, why the extreme sense of urgency?”

“You know how emphatic Rainbow Dash can be,” Sunset said. “If she comes knocking on the door demanding to come in, Wallflower will be scared out of her mind...”

“I know you said she was shy, but really? Terrified by a knock on the door?” As Rarity slowed to a stop at a red light, she gave Sunset a glance. “Perhaps I’m just being incredulous, but that seems like an overreaction.”

Sunset stared at the red light, counting the seconds as she waited for it to turn. “Not for her,” she said.

“Is that why you’ve been so unavailable, then?” Rarity asked. Disdain lingered in her voice. “It’s no wonder she’s been taking up all your time. Constantly being preoccupied with an anxious wreck of a roommate can’t be easy.”

Sunset forced herself to glare out the window. Now was not the time to start another argument, but with Rarity insulting Wallflower like that, Sunset could almost taste the bitterness of her own unspoken words.

“It’s not that simple, Rarity,” she said. The gears in her mind turned and twisted, trying to figure out how to explain herself without breaking her promise to Wallflower. “Look, just... Something really, really bad happened to her, and I need to be there for her. I’m all she has now.”

“Oh...” Rarity shrunk a little into her seat. “Well now I feel dreadful for talking about her like that.”

“It’s fine,” Sunset muttered, checking her phone again.

“You’ve called Rainbow Dash and Twilight half a dozen times now, dear,” Rarity said. “Perhaps you should just call Wallflower herself...?”

“If I could have done that, I would have by now.”

“She doesn’t even have a phone?” Rarity asked, her voice wavering.

“She barely had anything to eat before she moved in with me, let alone a cell phone,” Sunset said. In her periphery, Rarity cringed again. “I dunno, maybe I should’ve bought her a disposable one or something...”

“It’s wonderful of you to help her,” Rarity said, “but you’re not her mother, Sunset.”

“I know that.” Sunset rolled her eyes. “I’m sure things seem confusing from the outside looking in,” she said. “There’s a lot I wish I could say, but I promised Wallflower I wouldn’t tell anyone what happened without her permission.”

“I understand, dear,” Rarity said. “And my apologies for being so pressing on a private matter.”

Sunset glanced at her phone, seeing no new messages from Twilight or Rainbow Dash, and she squirmed in her seat as she and Rarity came to yet another red light. Her apartment was still several blocks away. Maybe it would be faster for her to hop out now and run rather than risk any more traffic. Maybe that would be a better idea once they got a little closer.

“I, uhh... I should apologize too,” she said. “For how I acted earlier, I mean.”

“It’s alright, Sunset,” Rarity said. “Had I known you were under so much pressure, I would have been a bit more delicate.” She paused, smirking. “Though maybe next time, lead with what’s stressing you rather than be so defensive right out of the gate, hmm?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just trying to keep Wallflower safe, and... I dunno,” Sunset sighed. She tapped her leg up and down, anxiety mounting in her limbs. “She’d be really upset if I left her alone to go to some party, y’know?”

“Well, you know she would be welcome to come with you,” Rarity said. “Perhaps we could plan for a more relaxed and quiet evening, rather than one of Pinkie’s usual festivities?”

“I’m sorry, but I doubt it,” Sunset said. “Wallflower isn’t really comfortable around anyone but me.”

“That... Doesn’t sound very healthy for her,” Rarity said. “Wouldn’t encouraging her to be around others be a good thing?”

“That’s, uhm...” Sunset blinked, her train of thought grinding to a halt. Rarity actually had a good point—as well-deserved as Wallflower’s anxiety was, overcoming it would be even more difficult without confronting it.

“It’s just a suggestion.” Rarity shrugged.

“O-oh, sorry,” Sunset said. “I was just lost in thought, but yeah. That sounds like a good idea. I’ll ask her about it.”

“Wonderful, darling,” Rarity said, smiling. “I’m sure the rest of the girls would be more than happy to have her around.”

“Yeah, that’s...” Sunset looked at her phone again. “That’s good. We can figure that out after I make sure Wallflower’s okay.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Rarity said. “Still nothing from Twilight or Rainbow Dash?”

“Still nothing,” Sunset sighed. “Hey, uhm, we’re getting pretty close. Just drop me off at the next light and I’ll go by foot.”

“I don’t mean to invalidate your concern, dear, but I promise things are going to be alright,” Rarity said. She pulled the car to the curb and put a hand on Sunset’s shoulder. “She’ll be fine. She has you, after all.”

“Y-yeah,” Sunset sighed. “She’ll be okay. Thanks for the ride, Rarity.”

“I’ll be right behind you!” Rarity called out behind her as she shut the car door.

Sunset didn’t bother with a reply.

Wallflower glanced out the tiny window of the apartment, scanning the sidewalk for any sign of red and gold hair. With a disappointed sigh, she turned her eyes to the kitchen clock. It was still a little early for Sunset to be getting back, but it didn’t hurt to hope. Either way, though, it would be worth the wait. It was always worth the wait.

Daydreams danced through Wallflower’s mind, bringing a gleeful grin to her face. Their evening routine played out beneath her closed eyelids—rushing over to the door, pulling Sunset close, reveling in the warmth and safety she brought with her. A shiver tingled in her abdomen, anticipating their lips pressing together, drawing each other in. Maybe they’d settle on the couch and just enjoy being together for a while. Maybe Sunset would lead Wallflower’s hands beneath her shirt again.

Wallflower shifted, another little shiver running through her. Maybe this time, Sunset would want to touch her, too.

Of course, Wallflower was more than happy to go along with whatever her girlfriend wanted. Making sure Sunset knew how much Wallflower cherished her was more than worth a little discomfort—and besides, if Sunset liked it so much, Wallflower would probably enjoy herself too. Either way, it would mean Wallflower was being useful to Sunset, and that was enough.

Wallflower stood and paced across the apartment, making her way to the bathroom. Doing her best to avoid her reflection’s gaze, she applied a bit of lip balm and took the time to rub some aloe lotion into her skin. She had never bothered herself with such products before, but she knew that Sunset liked her soft. That alone made the effort worth it.

Knowing she was making Sunset happy was such a wonderful feeling, a high she chased every day with ever-increasing fervor. Watching Sunset’s lips curl into smile as she pulled away from a drawn-out kiss, listening to her softened sighs as Wallflower massaged and played with her chest, the way her eyes lit up when Wallflower said she loved her... She would tell Sunset she loved her as many times as she had to—more, even.

Maybe one day, Sunset would even say it back.

If she wasn’t ready or able to match Wallflower’s affections, though, that was still fine. Sunset had already done so much for her—it wasn’t fair to expect anything more. All that mattered was Sunset’s happiness, and what they had right now was perfect as it was.

Just as Wallflower returned to the window, a sound rang out, and she froze. Someone just knocked on the door.

Sunset never knocked. She never had to—she had a key. But someone just knocked on the door. Someone who wasn’t Sunset.

In an instant, Wallflower dropped to the floor, pressing herself against the wall. She hadn’t seen anyone out the window, but maybe they had seen her? The thought made her skin crawl, a dreadful sensation only made worse by a second rhythmic pounding on the door. Whoever was out there wanted to be let in. If she opened the door, they might even walk in without asking. And she was all alone.

She took a slow, shaky breath, and then another. It was fine. If she stayed quiet and hidden, they’d leave her alone. Besides, Sunset was going to be home soon anyway. She’d make them leave. She’d keep her safe.

A raspy voice called out from the other side of the door. “Hey, anyone home? Sunset?”

“I think we’re a little early,” a second voice said. “She’s probably not back yet.”

“Well what time is it?”

“I’m not sure. Phone died while I was waiting for you to finish running in circles.”

“Of course it did, Twilight,” the first voice said. “Don’t you keep like, a hundred extra batteries or something?”

“Those are for other devices, Rainbow Dash!” the second voice—’Twilight’—shot back, embarrassment lacing her voice.

Twilight...? Wallflower blinked. Twilight Sparkle, she remembered. She was Sunset’s friend, as was Rainbow Dash. They were among the girls Wallflower had tried to attack with the memory stone. They had watched on in horror as Sunset had writhed and screamed on the ground when Wallflower ripped her mind apart.

Wallflower gulped. If she opened the door, those girls would not be happy to see her.

Another knock. “Hello? Uhh...” Rainbow Dash paused. “Ah, dang it, what was her name...”

“You’re kidding, right?” the other voice responded. “We just talked about this yesterday.”

“I’m tired from practice, Twilight! Give me a break!”

“Wallflower?” Twilight called out. “Wallflower Blush?” There was another knock, this one softer and shorter. “You in there?”

Wallflower shifted lower to the floor, adrenaline pulsing through her. Sweat tickled her forehead as a frown spread across her face. Why was she so scared, anyway? Things would be fine. She’d be fine. They were here for Sunset, not her, and Sunset would be home soon. All she had to do was stay silent. She wasn’t in danger, she wasn’t, she wasn’t—

“Oh hey!” Rainbow Dash’s voice was right behind her.

Wallflower’s entire body iced over as she realized that she was still sitting beneath the window. Like an idiot.

“Hey, Wallflower!” The sound of knuckles on glass stung her ears. “You, uhh... You know I can see you, right?”

Wallflower didn’t reply. She couldn’t even move. What the hell was wrong with her? She was fine. They weren’t going to do anything to her. Sunset was friends with these girls—even if they didn’t like Wallflower very much, it’s not like they were going hurt her. So why did she feel so paralyzed right now?

“Y’know, it’s pretty rude to ignore someone like this!” Rainbow Dash spoke louder, and a whimper broke through Wallflower’s lips. Still, she remained frozen, huddled in a ball beneath the windowsill.

There was another knock on the window. It was softer, yet still managed to shake her to her core. Tears stung her eyes. This was stupid. Why was she being so stupid? She was safe. She was perfectly safe but she still couldn’t move.

“Wallflower? Could we maybe talk to you for a minute?” Twilight Sparkle was behind her now. Even with her head pressed against her knees, Wallflower could feel both Twilight’s and Rainbow Dash’s gazes burning into the back of her skull.

“Oh gosh, Wallflower...?” Twilight’s voice softened. “Are you alright?”

She couldn’t take this. For some stupid, pathetic reason, she couldn’t take this. Finally, Wallflower cried out, curling up as tight as she could.

“Hey!”

Someone else shouted, their voice echoing from further away. Even without looking, Wallflower knew who it was.

“There you are!” Rainbow Dash said. “We’ve been looking all over for—”

“What the hell are you doing?!” Sunset shouted over her. “Get away from the damn window!”

“S-Sunset, we didn’t...” Twilight stammered. “We didn’t mean to upset her, we j-just...”

“Yeah, well you did anyway,” Sunset said. “I said get away from her.”

Wallflower heard the door’s latch unlock. Trembling, she managed to pull her gaze to the door just in time to see Sunset burst through.

“Wallflower!” Sunset rushed over to her, kneeling on the floor beside her. “H-hey, I’ve got you, Wallflower. You’re okay, you’re okay...” Wallflower’s breathing grew a little steadier as Sunset embraced her. She closed her eyes, her muscles at last relaxing a bit, but any sense of comfort was poisoned by a sickening realization. Sunset was scared out of her mind—again—because Wallflower couldn’t keep herself together.

She curled into herself again, a shaky sigh leaving her. “I-I’m sorry...”

“No, Wallflower, don’t do that,” Sunset said. She turned her head to glare at the girls who had followed them inside. “This isn’t your fault.”

Wallflower braved a glance at Twilight and Rainbow Dash. Both girls wore expressions that fell somewhere between confusion and concern, and Wallflower withered beneath their looks of pity. As soon as they made eye contact with her, she tore herself away.

“Don’t s-say it’s theirs,” she whimpered. “Th-they’re not the ones who f-freaked out over nothing.”

“Well...” Twilight lowered her head. “We still shouldn’t have harassed you like that.”

“It’s not like we meant to,” Rainbow Dash said, wincing as Twilight elbowed her in the side. “I-I mean, we just haven’t heard from Sunset in like, forever. No calls, texts, nothing.” She shrugged. “Figured maybe you could tell us what’s up, is all.”

“I’ve been busy,” Sunset snapped back.

“Sunset...?” Wallflower looked up at her girlfriend. “You’re not talking to your friends?”

“I’m just busy a lot—you know that better than anyone, right?” Sunset said. “It’s fine, I promise.”

But it wasn’t fine, and Wallflower knew it.

“Because of me...” she whispered.

“Huh?”

“Y-you’re only so busy because of me.” Wallflower stared at the floor, her eyes widening a little as wetness tickled her face. “I’m ruining your friendships... Again...”

Sunset immediately moved in front of her. “No,” she said flatly. “You’re not. You haven’t done anything wrong, I promise.”

“That’s n-not true!” Wallflower cried. “Don’t make excuses for me, Sunset! I’m s-so helpless and needy and I’m coming between you and the people you care about again—!”

“I care about you,” Sunset said, hugging her once more. “Please, please don’t blame yourself for this.”

“Uhm...” Rainbow Dash shifted. “I’m just, uhh... I’m gonna wait outside,” she said. “C’mon, Twilight.”

“N-no, wait,” Sunset spoke up. “You... You’re right, Rainbow Dash. I haven’t been responding to you, and that’s not okay.” Wallflower could feel Sunset taking a deep breath. “I just... Look, things are complicated right now.”

Rainbow Dash stifled a laugh. “Yeah, we can see that.”

“That’s not what I...” Sunset shook her head. “I’m sorry for blowing you off, okay? That wasn’t cool of me.”

“It really wasn’t,” Rainbow Dash replied, earning another nudge from Twilight.

“Sunset,” Twilight said, “if you don’t have time to spend with us, that’s okay. We were just really concerned, you know?”

“Y-yeah, I know,” Sunset sighed. “And I’m sorry for that. I’ll do my best to keep up with you and the rest of the girls.”

“Only if you’re able,” Twilight said. “We don’t want to strain you, Sunset. We just want to know you’re doing alright.”

“No,” Sunset said. “I can make the time for it.” She wrapped an arm around Wallflower’s shoulder. “We’ll talk about it and get back to you. Promise.”

“Awesome!” Rainbow Dash pumped her fist. “Gang’s back together again!”

Sunset turned to Wallflower. “This whole thing is on me, Wallflower. No one else. Especially not you, okay?”

Wallflower met her girlfriend’s gaze. Sunset really, truly believed what she was saying. Arguing with her about it would only make her feel worse, and Wallflower had caused her enough of that already. “Okay,” she said softly.

Sunset embraced her again, and Wallflower at last returned the hug. There was some commotion across the room—yet another person entering the apartment—but Wallflower was too lost in her own shame to give it much notice. Even if Sunset wouldn’t admit that Wallflower was still causing her problems, that didn’t change the truth of things.

That was okay, though. Wallflower would just have to find a way to make it up to her.

XV - Interpersonal Effectiveness

Sunset relaxed beneath the comforter, Wallflower settling close beside her. As they huddled together in the dim amber lamplight, Sunset ran her fingers through her girlfriend’s long, tangled hair. Lovely as the silence was, she knew she had to raise the question eventually, and now was as good a time as any.

“Think you’re ready to start meeting my friends?” Sunset asked. “Properly this time, I mean.”

Wallflower sighed and scooted a little closer. “I dunno... I don’t think they’re going to like me very much.”

“Because of the memory—?” Sunset cut herself off as Wallflower deflated a little.

“It’s not that,” Wallflower said. “Though if they did still hate me for it, I mean... I’d understand.”

“They won’t, I promise.” Sunset forced a chuckle. “If they can forgive me for all the years of rotten stuff I did, I’m sure they can forgive you for one mistake.”

“Forgiving you is a lot easier,” Wallflower said. “You’re, y’know... You’re worth it.”

Sunset planted a soft kiss on Wallflower’s head. “So are you,” she said.

“Maybe to you.” Wallflower pressed a little further into Sunset. “But them? How am I worth it at all? How can I be worth having in their lives when all I do is force them to walk on eggshells around me?”

“Fluttershy has some pretty bad anxiety sometimes,” Sunset said. “That’s never mattered to any of us before.”

Wallflower shook her head. “Yeah, but she’s like you,” she said. “You’re both easy to be around, and I’m just... not.”

“Hey, hey...” Sunset spoke softly. “Be fair to yourself, okay? Being a little scared of other people isn’t something to be ashamed of, especially given what you’ve been through.”

“I’m not scared of them.” Wallflower’s voice was low and bitter. “I’m scared of being around them, because I know I’m gonna screw it all up somehow.”

Sunset chewed her lip. “I really don’t think that’s true. And even if you do have some trouble with social stuff, that’s okay. There’s no better group of people to practice with.”

“I just...” Wallflower twisted beneath Sunset’s arm until they were face to face. “They’re your best friends, Sunset. I’ve already come between you and them twice now. I really don’t want to do that again.”

“I told you, what happened last week is on me, not you.” Sunset shook her head, sighing. “I’m the one who didn’t bother to keep up with them for a month.”

“A month you spent having to practically babysit me,” Wallflower said. “The only reason you couldn’t keep up with them was because you were so busy with my stupid neediness.”

“No, Wallflower, that’s not...” Sunset stopped herself. If Wallflower learned how easily the girls had moved on without their memories—how that had proved Sunset was useless, unneeded—it’d just be one more thing she’d wrongfully blame herself for. “I think I needed some space from them anyway.”

“Sunset...”

“It’s fine,” Sunset said. “I promise.”

Wallflower’s only reply was to gently nuzzle the crook of Sunset’s neck. Her arm rested on Sunset’s midsection, Sunset pulled her close, and for a while both girls just held each other. It was moments like this that made the long hours and tight budgets worth it—cuddling at home, hidden from the world, the flame in her heart burning away her fears and doubts. Here Sunset was comforted, calm, safe.

An airy sigh escaped her as she felt Wallflower’s slow, even breaths softly brushing against her neck. Green fingers found her own, and as they twined together, Wallflower slowly raised her head to meet Sunset’s gaze with those warm brown eyes. It was all Sunset could do to sit still and let Wallflower come to her, pressing their lips together. Sunset shivered as the kiss held, caution harshly shoving any lurking desires back into the corners of her mind where they crawled from.

Take it slow, for Wallflower’s sake.

Of course, it became a lot more difficult to stick to that mantra when Wallflower deepened the kiss, drawing a surprised squeak from Sunset. This was still okay, right? Of course it was—Wallflower was the one pressing forward. Sunset pushed against the analytical gears turning in her head, choosing instead to focus on the warmth and softness of the girl in her arms.

This was fine. So long as Sunset didn’t overthink it, or do anything stupid, then it was fine.

Eventually they had to break apart, if only to catch their breath. As they did Sunset took the fleeting opportunity to ask again. “Just give them a chance? Please?” She did her absolute best to sound encouraging. “I know it’s a big change from the past few weeks, but I think it’ll be good for you. For both of us.”

“I don’t even know where to begin, though,” Wallflower said, squirming a bit as she returned to her spot tucked beneath Sunset’s arm. “I’m not good at making friends like you are.”

Just like that, Sunset had an idea. “Well your birthday is coming up soon, right?” When Wallflower hesitantly nodded, Sunset grinned. “Well that’s perfect then! I can’t think of a better icebreaker than a Pinkie Pie party.”

Again, Wallflower fidgeted. “I-I don’t do well with crowds,” she said, her voice shrinking with every word.

Sunset nodded. “We’ve got a couple weeks. What if I just invite one or two of them over at a time?” she asked. “It doesn’t have to be everyone, or every day. That way you can get to know them a little better in a calmer environment. I know it’s a lot, but I can’t be the only person you speak to on a regular basis, y’know?”

Wallflower didn’t answer, which was about as good as a ‘no.’ About as good, but not quite. Willing or not, they needed to do this.

“I’ll invite Pinkie over tomorrow, okay? If we’re gonna have a party she’ll need time to prepare,” Sunset said. The pouty face Wallflower gave her just about snapped her resolve, and she forced herself to look away. It took nearly half a minute of silence before she caught a slight nod in her periphery.

“Oh, and I should probably have Rarity come by too,” Sunset said. “She mentioned there was something she wanted to give you anyway. Now’s as good a time as any, right?”

Wallflower’s pout twisted into a full-on frown. “She doesn’t have to do that.”

“Trust me, it’s better not to fight her on it,” Sunset chuckled. “She’s gonna do it either way.”

Wallflower grumbled a bit, but didn’t press the issue further. Satisfied, Sunset again found her girlfriend’s hand and squeezed it gently. “This’ll work out, Wallflower,” she said. “It won’t be easy at first, and maybe not for a little while, but it’s gonna be worth it.”

Sunset sat beside Wallflower on the couch, rolling her eyes as Pinkie Pie paced back and forth before them, seemingly pondering something.

“What,” Pinkie spoke slowly, “is your favorite color?”

“Uhm...” Wallflower shifted beneath the glare of the table lamp, which Pinkie had tilted to shine right in her face. “I guess I like pink...?”

“Ooooooh!” Pinkie’s sudden giddy shout made both girls flinch. “No way! No. Way. Pink is my favorite color too!”

Wallflower avoided eye contact with Pinkie’s manic gaze. If the way she was gripping Sunset’s hand like a vice was anything to go by, she was already nearing her limit only one question in.

“Curious,” Rarity said, not glancing up from the pad of paper she was filling with notes. “I would have guessed green.”

“Of course,” Wallflower muttered. Sunset barely caught the words, but they were likely too quietly to be heard by anyone else.

Sunset took a slow, deep breath, holding back a well-practiced glare. Rarity obviously didn’t mean any harm. No need to make a big deal out of it.

“Okay, next one’s really important,” Pinkie said. “Favorite kind of birthday cake?”

“I’ve, uhm...” Wallflower blinked back at Pinkie. “I’ve never had a birthday cake.”

The sharp gasp that followed would’ve been more fitting if Pinkie had been holding her breath for a solid ten minutes. Again Wallflower flinched, and this time Sunset couldn’t bite her tongue. “Take it down a notch, Pinkie,” she said.

“Maybe two,” Rarity added. “Just to be safe.”

“Oop, sorry!” Somehow even Pinkie’s whisper was overbearing. She gave a quick salute, to which both Sunset and Rarity rolled their eyes. “That’s just so sad, though,” she whimpered. “You’re already a grown-up and you’ve never had your own birthday cake?”

Wallflower hunched over like she was being scolded. “I-I, uhm... Sorry...”

“Nope!” Pinkie’s frizzy hair flailed as she shook her head. “No sorries in my town, missy. If anything, this just means you deserve a cake amazalicious enough to make up for all the years before!”

“That’s not a real word, dear,” Rarity said, nose still buried in her notebook.

“Well it should be!”

“I-I dunno,” Wallflower said. “I don’t know what I’d like.”

Sunset smiled as softly as she could. “You liked that fancy chocolate thing at the coffee shop, right? I bet a chocolate cake would be even better.”

At that, Wallflower perked up a bit, but before she could reply Pinkie blurted out, “The triple mocha frappuccino at Java Bean’s?!”

“Triple?” Wallflower blinked. “I only ever had the double.”

“The triple has the frappe, the chocolate drizzle and chocolate shavings!” Pinkie’s gleeful grin could light up a city block. “We’ll have to go there sometime so you can try it!”

To her credit, Wallflower didn’t immediately decline, but Sunset knew better than to let her stew in silence. “So... Chocolate cake, then?” she asked.

“O-oh, yeah, that would be nice,” Wallflower said. “You really don’t need to do anything special for me, though.”

“Think nothing of it,” Rarity said. “Everyone deserves something special from time to time. Oh, and speaking of which!“ Without another word, she stood and exited the apartment, the door left hanging ajar behind her. Sunset craned her neck to peek out the window, where she spotted Rarity retrieving something from the passenger seat of her car. Seconds later, she was shuffling back into the apartment with a pair of potted plants in her arms.

“I saw these precious little ferns and just knew they’d be perfect for you,” Rarity announced as she placed them on the table in front of Wallflower. Each plant was scarcely more than a dozen small stems with tiny, soft green leaves lining them, which weaved and tangled among themselves as they flowed down the sides of the white ceramic pots they were housed in. “The man at the store said they’re a bit tricky to care for, but something tells me you’ll more than manage.”

For the first time since the girls had arrived, Wallflower wore a genuine smile. “Maidenhairs,” she said, rubbing one of the rounded leaves between her fingers. “I’ve always wanted to try growing one.”

“And now you can grow two.” Rarity grinned proudly.

As quickly as Wallflower’s smile came, it faded. “You didn’t have to do this for me,” she said.

“Oh hush, darling.” Rarity waved a hand. “That’s exactly why I did it.”

Sunset glanced back at the ferns as Wallflower’s expression shifted. “So Wallflower,” she spoke clearly, "where should we put them? Do they need a lot of light?”

“What?” Wallflower looked to Sunset, then back at the plants. “Oh, uhm, I don’t think so. Not direct sunlight, at least.”

“The upstairs window might be good for that,” Sunset said. “Maybe we can get a shelf to put by your side of the bed.”

As soon as the words left her lips, Sunset clamped her mouth shut, her eyes darting around the room. Pinkie Pie wasn’t even listening, being too occupied with twirling one of the fern’s stems around her finger. Wallflower seemed not to notice, nodding slightly as she lifted one of the plants from the table into her lap. Only Rarity had a knowing smirk on her face, but she remained silent.

Whatever, it didn’t matter anyway. Why did Sunset even care so much? There was nothing wrong with the girls knowing about her and Wallflower. And even if there was, she wouldn’t care. She didn’t have to justify her feelings to anyone—especially not to people who didn’t care about them in the first place.

No, that was wrong. That was stupid. Of course they cared. And if they cared, they’d understand if Sunset didn’t want to talk about it. It was private, after all. It was none of their business. They didn’t need to know the details of her life any more than they needed her in their lives.

“Sunset?” Wallflower’s voice cut through Sunset’s thoughts. “Do we have a spray bottle I could use?”

“Uhm... Y-yeah, I’m sure there’s an extra one around here,” Sunset said. “You might wanna clean it out first, though.”

“Of course, of course.” Wallflower continued inspecting the fern, peeling back its stems to look at the soil beneath. “Can I come with you the next time you go to the store? Maybe I could get a few things for this.”

Now that was a surprise. Sunset nodded, grinning. “You don’t have to ask, silly. We can go tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“That’d be nice, I think,” Wallflower said. A few seconds of silence passed, then she turned to Rarity. “Uhm, thank you very much. I really appreciate it.”

“My genuine pleasure.” Rarity smiled. “I considered bringing you a few empty pots and some soil so that you might plant some seeds from scratch, but I figured it best to run such a thing by you first.” Her voice lowered to a not-at-all-quiet whisper. “Between you and me, darling, this place could use some flowers to liven it up.”

“Yeah... I bet we could manage that.” As Wallflower looked around the apartment, Sunset wondered what ideas might be springing forth in her mind. How expensive were pots and bags of soil, anyway? It couldn’t be too much. Even if it was a little pricey, it was worth it to make Wallflower happy.

One thing at a time, though. Sunset turned to Pinkie, who was still fiddling with a fern. “Think you’ve got enough to start planning the party?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am!” Pinkie chimed as she stood up. “Chocolate cake and pink balloons are the foundation of any party worth throwing.”

“Th-thank you too,” Wallflower said, her smile straining. “I’m, uhm... I’m looking forward to it.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Pinkie crossed her arms, nodding sagely. “Never fear, birthday girl, you just leave everything to your Auntie Pinkie.”

The banter continued back and forth until mid-afternoon when Pinkie and Rarity made their exits, much to Sunset’s relief. As Wallflower took one of the ferns up to the loft—supposedly to examine the light it would be getting—Sunset sank back into the couch cushions, exhausted. Today went about as well as it could have, all things considered. A little bumpy, maybe, but ultimately a success. Pretending nothing was wrong between her and the girls was even more draining in person, but that was fine too. It had to be.

Sunset could sort her personal issues out on her own time. For now, though, Wallflower needed her more.

XVI - Dissociation

Wallflower awoke with a start, her whole body tensing up in a moment of adrenaline that was gone as soon as it came. Bleary brown eyes opened to scan the area around her as she lifted her head from Sunset’s shoulder.

Something moved. Or... something flashed, that was it. Blindingly bright, enough to violently jerk her out of slumber. But now nothing was out there.

Was it just her dream? It wouldn’t be the first time a dream had been intense enough to wake her up, but she wasn’t having a nightmare. She hardly had those at all anymore, ever since she and Sunset started sharing a bed. Besides, Wallflower couldn’t remember anything bad in her dream—or what her dream had been at all, actually.

Another glance around the darkened loft confirmed that whatever the flash of light that woke her up was, it clearly wasn’t part of the waking world. She was safe.

Of course she was safe. After all, Sunset was here.

Moving slowly so as not to wake her girlfriend, Wallflower twisted around to face her. Sunset always talked about how cute Wallflower was when she was sleeping, and now Wallflower could say for certain that it definitely worked the other way around. Then again, Sunset was cute all the time.

The more Wallflower watched Sunset's short, wheezy breaths, the more she realized that Sunset actually looked... Well she didn’t look very comfortable. Her eyes were shut tight, with a small frown etched beneath. If Wallflower squinted hard enough, she could just barely make out a few beads of sweat on Sunset’s forehead.

That couldn’t be good. Did Sunset have a fever? Wallflower lightly pressed the back of her hand against Sunset’s cheek, but didn’t find her to be any warmer than expected. Maybe it was just because it was a little warm in the apartment, brought on by the late summer months. As Wallflower pulled her hand away, Sunset shifted slightly at the loss of contact.

Ah, there was that extra sleepy cuteness.

Smiling, Wallflower resettled beneath Sunset’s shoulder. Her hand moved beneath the comforter, finding Sunset’s hand and taking gentle hold of it. With a soft sigh and a contented hum, Wallflower nestled into her girlfriend and closed her eyes. A weird dream waking her up was a small price to pay to fall asleep in Sunset’s arms twice in one night.

The mid-afternoon sun stretched across the floor behind Wallflower as she sprayed the Maidenhairs three times each. Some cursory research online didn’t reveal as much as she’d liked about how to properly care for them, but that was alright. Figuring this out as she went was something that was actually in her admittedly small wheelhouse.

The click of the lock and the squealing of old hinges snapped her attention to the door. “Sunset?”

“H-hey, yeah it’s me.” Sunset sounded exhausted. “Got let out a little early.”

Wallflower made her way down the stairs and wrapped Sunset in a tight hug, same as she did every day. Rather than return the embrace as she usually did, though, Sunset squeezed her once and let go, stepping back to take off her shoes. She really did look worn out—if Wallflower hadn’t seen Sunset sleeping last night, she’d have thought Sunset never went to bed at all.

Making her way over to the couch, Sunset sat down slowly, as if worried it might not hold her weight. There she sat, staring at nothing as Wallflower leaned against the arm of the couch.

Fear gnawed at the edges of Wallflower’s concern. Sunset had seemed a little out of it before she left for work this morning, but nothing like this.

“So, if you’re home early, uhm...” Wallflower spoke slowly. “Do you wanna have Twilight over a little earlier instead?”

“Oh, uhh... I told her not to come today,” Sunset said.

Wallflower blinked. “Why?”

“Nothing serious.” Sunset’s voice never broke out of its monotone. “I just... I wasn’t feeling up to it today, that’s all.”

“What do you mean?”

“I guess I just didn’t sleep very well.” Sunset sighed. “I don’t really have the energy to put on a happy face for her.”

Now that was a familiar feeling. “But... why would you need to put on a happy face for her? She’s your friend, Sunset,” Wallflower said. “I’m sure she’d understand if you’re feeling down.”

The only reply Sunset gave was a barely-visible nod.

Wallflower chewed her lip as she watched Sunset just... sit there, silent, staring at her knees. It was like looking in a mirror at herself from a couple months ago, when it was all she could manage to eat one meal a day.

“Sunset?”

No response. Wallflower’s jaw clenched as she sat beside Sunset and put a hand on her shoulder. Wallflower half-expected her to flinch, but if Sunset had any reaction, Wallflower couldn’t see it.

“Sunset, please,” she said softly. “I know something’s wrong.”

Sunset just shook her head. “I promise I’m fine,” she said, only to hunch over as she spoke. “...Work was just really bad today.”

Wallflower knew that kind of excuse—a half-truth that something was bad, only because some unmentioned worse thing made it so. It was something she defaulted to more often than she should, but that’s because it was reliable. Sunset using it now was as clear a sign as any that no matter what Wallflower did, Sunset would not want to talk about what was bothering her.

Sunset was the emotional expert, not her. Wallflower didn’t know how to talk someone through their problems to make them feel better, let alone problems they didn’t want to discuss.

...Maybe she didn’t have to talk at all.

Slowly, Wallflower climbed atop Sunset, settling into her girlfriend’s lap as she knelt on the couch. Sunset held her gaze the whole time, leaning back a little more into the cushion as her hands rested on Wallflower’s hips. With her own hands on Sunset’s shoulders, Wallflower pressed a kiss to Sunset’s cheek, then her jaw—then she stopped, no more than an inch away from Sunset's lips.

She watched Sunset in silence. Sure enough, the hands on her hips pulled her in, bringing their lips together. The kiss seamlessly led into the next, and the next. With each new connection, Wallflower pushed further, her tongue gently pressing against Sunset’s lips.

It didn’t matter if Sunset wouldn’t say what was wrong—Wallflower could still make her feel better. Wallflower could still make her happy.

Again, Wallflower kissed her, mouth softly open as she felt Sunset at last reciprocate with a deeper kiss. An amber hand rose to Wallflower’s cheek, warm and steady as she leaned into it.

Sunset wanted her, Wallflower could tell. Sunset wanted her. She was just waiting for Wallflower to say something, do something, give some signal that it was okay for them to do more. Sunset was so thoughtful like that, so kind. She was still so patient, even after everything Wallflower had put her through.

The least Wallflower could do was reward that patience.

As she kissed Sunset again, Wallflower touched her hand to the one on her cheek. As gently as she could, Wallflower led Sunset’s hand from her cheek down to the lower hem of her shirt.

Immediately, Sunset broke off the kiss. Her eyes flicked down to her hand, then up to Wallflower’s face, briefly stopping in between.

“Wally...?” Sunset’s voice was heavy and dry. “Are... are you sure?”

Of course she was sure. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be doing this.

Sunset really was too good to her.

“Mhmm.” Wallflower smiled. “I want you to.”

For a moment, Sunset just stared at her with those brilliant blue eyes. Then, with a slow nod and a shaky exhale, Sunset’s gaze turned down, and her fingers slipped beneath Wallflower’s shirt.

The feeling of a hand drifting up her body set off every alarm in Wallflower’s head. Holding her breath, she shut her eyes as tight as she could and pushed the adrenaline back. She would not allow her stupid broken brain to ruin this because of something that happened ages ago. Besides, Sunset liked it whenever Wallflower touched her—Wallflower should like this too. She did like this! This was a good thing. This was a fun thing. Normal couples did stuff like this all the time, and more, without any issue.

She was safe here. She was safe with Sunset. Nothing Sunset did for her, with her or to her could ever hurt.

That assertion was tested the second Sunset’s hand slid over the band of a plain white sports bra. Wallflower focused intently on Sunset’s face, frozen in an expression of... shock? Wonder? Wallflower really couldn’t tell. Either way, keeping her eyes on Sunset was the best way to anchor her thoughts and keep them from drifting into rougher waters.

A warm hand cupped her breast, fingers spreading over the fabric of her bra. Every movement Sunset made was slow and measured, and periodically she would look up at Wallflower as if expecting to be told to stop. Spikes of adrenaline rose with every gentle squeeze and knead, but each was easier to force down than the one before. As Sunset moved her hand to the other breast, Wallflower let out a wobbly sigh and tried to relax her muscles as much as she could.

This was okay. She was okay.

Seconds passed into minutes. Wallflower didn’t speak, content to watch the expression on Sunset’s face as it shifted from caution to enjoyment. Another hand joined the first beneath Wallflower’s shirt, and Wallflower drifted forward a bit as it smoothly rubbed her back.

“Can I, uhm...” Sunset spoke up, her voice a little shaky. She ran a finger across Wallflower’s back, dipping the tiniest bit beneath the band of her bra. "Can I take it off...?"

Oh.

Sunset wanted more.

Sunset wanted more of her. And she was actually asking herself, rather than waiting for Wallflower to push the issue.

Wallflower couldn’t tell if the fluttering feeling in her chest was anxiety, surprise or something else entirely.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to stop her from meeting Sunset’s gaze and nodding.

Sunset responded with a kiss and a smile. Wallflower sat up in her lap, took a deep breath and pulled off the shirt covering her. This wouldn’t be the first time Sunset had... seen her. She’d seen on the night Wallflower first told Sunset she loved her, and if Sunset’s magic geode worked the way Wallflower thought it did, then on the night Wallflower moved in...

It didn’t matter. Second or third time, this still felt different.

Wallflower didn’t exactly love how her body looked. After gaining back some of the weight she'd lost when living on her own, she was somehow simultaneously too skinny and too fat, misproportioned all over. While Sunset was attractive without even trying, Wallflower couldn’t manage it no matter how much effort she put in. It was one of several reasons she avoided looking at her reflection whenever she was near a mirror.

Judging by the look on Sunset’s face as her eyes drifted up and down, she would probably disagree on all of that.

One by one, fingers slipped beneath the elastic band. Wallflower tried not to shiver too much at the feeling of Sunset’s hand inside her bra, warmly covering her breast, thumb brushing over her—

A sudden well of confidence surged through Wallflower’s mind, pushing back the spasms of panic and the quiet twisting in her gut. She could handle it. Despite all her stupid impulsive fears that would never shut up, she could do this and be okay.

Without a word of warning to Sunset, Wallflower pulled the bra off entirely and dropped it on the couch beside them.

The kiss was swift and sudden, but Wallflower didn’t care. She was fine. More than that, she was enjoying herself. She could do this and she could do more, because it was with someone she loved. With Sunset, she could feel just like a normal person and nothing could ever take that away from her.

Sunset lowered her lips from Wallflower’s face to her neck, then along her collarbone. Wallflower knew what she was doing, where she was going, but that was okay. Sunset could do more, Sunset deserved more. Wallflower could handle it now, and if she could handle this, she could handle anything. She leaned forward as Sunset leaned back, her hair forming a messy green curtain around them as the hand on her back pulled her in towards Sunset. Brazen affection flashed in Sunset’s eyes as she looked up at Wallflower, closed in and—

“Mmnh...”

Sunset looked so happy.

“Hnn...!”

It was all worth it to see her happy.

“Ha-ahh...!”

Sunset never stopped kissing, tasting, suckling. Wallflower clung tightly to her girlfriend, her head resting atop Sunset’s own as fleeting tingles of pleasure warred with the constant adrenal horror scraping at the back of her mind.

But none of that mattered. Sunset was happy.

That’s all Wallflower needed to be happy too.

XVII - Intense Irritability

Canterlot State University wasn't the largest or best college around, but it was growing faster than almost any school in the country. It was also the only university out of fifteen that had accepted Sunset Shimmer into their fall class of the coming school year. Despite her exemplary test scores and… passable grades, her lack of official documentation limited her choices to either CSU or a local community college that shared a few buildings of the same campus. No amount of forged paperwork would stand up to the scrutiny of a more prestigious college's acceptance board, who would be actively looking for any reason to reject potential candidates.

The community college had actually been her first choice—mainly due to a lower tuition cost—but at the repeated insistence of both Twilight and Principal Celestia, Sunset had applied to something like three dozen scholarships. Something about "wasted potential" or whatever. While most of the scholarship programs flatly rejected her, she'd managed to scrape together enough funds to afford a couple semesters at CSU. With a little luck and a lot of effort, the plan was to build her academic résumé and snag whatever scholarships she could until she found more stable financial footing.

Now that Wallflower had moved in, that last part would take quite a bit longer. Sunset had to balance her class load with extra hours at work, possibly supplemented with hours working as a tutor if her grades were good enough after her first semester. No matter how she looked at it, the coming months were going to be even more hectic than summer had been. There would be no easy way around any of it—painfully long hours and a ton of hard work were the only way through.

That was okay though. Wally made it all worth it.

Wally was always worth it.

Sunset yawned as she trailed behind the tour group she'd been following all afternoon. The past few nights of restless half-sleep had taken their toll. As she passed by yet another line of tents advertising some on-campus clubs, she fiddled incessantly with the chain of her necklace.

Maybe she could leave it with one of the girls for a while, see if that would make them stop.

No… No, that was stupid. Sunset shook the selfish thought away and buried it beneath a rising tide of guilt. A little unexpected exhaustion was a small price to pay if it meant Wallflower was sleeping soundly for the first time in months. How horrible would Sunset be if she took that away from her?

Sunset could handle it, as well as any other surprises that came up.

This way, Wally was fine. If she was fine, Sunset was fine too.

As Sunset's tour group dawdled their way around the campus, she paid less attention to the guide and more to the clashing architecture around her. CSU had been making an effort to modernize in the past few years, tearing down old brick class buildings and replacing them with sleeker ones mostly made from glass and plaster. They were nice enough to look at, but Sunset's eyes were repeatedly drawn to the few remaining quaint structures that had so far survived the process.

Most were small, single-story halls used by primarily the community college, but a few stood out. One of the dorms was a lovely old building tucked away in the corner of the grounds, and clustered along the western edge of campus was a collection of bio-labs and greenhouses. If Sunset ever took Wallflower on a tour of the school, she'd have to remember to start there.

Sunset's personal favorite by far was the bell tower right in the middle of campus, the same one that had been on all the brochures she'd seen. It rose from what was otherwise the dinky old atrium building, seven stories high with an open spire at the top. A small balcony ran around the edges, and as Sunset understood it, the inside of the spire was actually accessible from within the building.

Sunset smiled to herself as her gaze traced up and down the knotted web of ivy that crawled its way up the brick tower. Wally would probably love it up there, at least if Sunset came with her. It'd make a nice romantic private spot for the two of them, assuming Wally ever start attending this campus herself.

Soon enough, Sunset ditched the tour group and made her way back towards the bus stop. She'd seen enough to know where her classes would be anyway, and picked out a few spots to show Wallflower if she ever wanted to come visit. No reason to stick around for the rest of it. Besides, Wallflower would be happy to see her home early anyway.

As Sunset passed by the bell tower, her phone buzzed. A quick look showed a message from Fluttershy.

Twilight told me you're touring CSU today. Are you still there now?

Sunset sent a simple confirmation and stuffed her phone back in her pocket. Less than a minute later it buzzed again.

Meet me in the coffee shop on the first floor of the library. I need to talk to you.

Great.

After confirming when the next bus would come by, Sunset started off towards the library on the other side of campus. Maybe if she led off with some junk about the bus schedule and needing to be home soon or whatever, Fluttershy wouldn't want to inconvenience her and Sunset could leave as quickly as she came.

As Sunset entered the library, she found it surprisingly loud, and lacking in books. Apparently those were all kept on the second floor, and the space down here was dedicated to pumping students full of caffeine.

After a brief glance around, Sunset spotted Fluttershy across the room. She sat stiffly at a little wooden table in the corner of the café, staring intently at nothing. As Sunset approached, Fluttershy looked up briefly and managed something like a half-hearted wave before returning her gaze to the tabletop.

Sunset had seen a lot of expressions on Fluttershy’s face over the years, most often caused by Sunset herself. Fear, anxiety, misery, joy, contentedness and everything in between. Whatever thoughts were going on behind that face now, though, she could only guess. If she had to, she guessed whatever Fluttershy wanted to speak with her about wasn’t going to be very pleasant.

Whatever. Might as well get it over with. If she turned and walked away now, the rest of her friends would never let her hear the end of it—not after she’d given them her word about “making time for them,” or whatever it was they wanted to hear.

Sunset plastered on a half-smile as she sat down. “I got your text. What’s up?”

Fluttershy’s brow twitched. She opened her mouth as if to speak, only to draw it shut into a thin line. A moment later she mumbled something under her breath.

Sunset sighed, frowning. “You know I can’t understand you when you mumble like that.”

“...I can’t believe you.”

Fluttershy’s voice, soft as it was, still took Sunset for a loop. What was this all about? Was this about Sunset avoiding them? She’d already straightened that out with the rest of the girls, had Fluttershy somehow not heard about it?

“I can’t believe you,” Fluttershy said again, her voice raising. “I cannot believe you, Sunset Shimmer!”

“Excuse me?” Yeah, no, Sunset was definitely not in the mood to get yelled at. Any strained sense of civility went tumbling out the window. “Tell me then, what did I do that’s so unbelievable?”

“Don't pretend you don't know! After what Wallflower went through, I can’t believe y-you...” Her face reddened as she practically hissed, “I can’t believe you're sleeping with her!”

For maybe the first time in her life, Sunset was so mad that she was actually speechless. What was she even supposed to say to that? No wonder Fluttershy wanted them to meet in a public place like this, so she could freely shame Sunset for... For what? She and Wallflower had never even—!

...Rarity. The next time Sunset saw that gossiping little brat, she was going to strangle her with her own stupid springy hair.

It took every ounce of self control Sunset had not to scream that out loud. Instead, in a low, seething voice, she asked, “What exactly did Rarity tell you?”

“She told me you and Wallflower were sleeping together! Honestly, of all the awful things you’ve done in your life, this is the worst! Taking advantage of a—!”

“Shut up.” Sunset snapped, louder than she meant to. It didn’t matter, she didn’t care who heard. “I’m going to say this only once, so pay attention you self-righteous idiot.” Fluttershy stayed silent beneath Sunset’s leering gaze. “Wally and I are literally sharing a bed. She has these horrible nightmares, a-and... And me sleeping in the bed with her helps with them sometimes. She wants me there. No one is taking advantage of anyone.” Red hot anger burned in Sunset’s chest. “Nice to know that’s what you think of me though.”

Whatever reaction Sunset was expecting, it wasn't the one she got. Fluttershy didn't so much as flinch. "So you're not together, then?" she asked.

"That's not—y'know what? Fuck it." Sunset scowled. "Yes, we're together, and it's not your place to get all pissy about it." With that, she stood and made for the door.

"Wait!" Fluttershy's hand was on her shoulder. "Don't you see how dangerous this is? Wallflower isn't ready for that!"

Sunset wheeled on her. "And who the hell are you to decide that? What, you had one conversation with her over a month ago and suddenly you know her better than she knows herself? It's her choice, stop trying to take it away from her!"

"She doesn't know what she's getting herself into! You're putting her at risk to get hurt even more, how can you not see that?"

"Because I trust her, Fluttershy!" Sunset shouted. "I trust her when she tells me she wants this, I trust her when she tells me she's okay! What would you have me do instead?" Sunset's voice twisted into a mocking tone as she walked out the door, Fluttershy close behind her. "'Oh gosh, so sorry Wallflower, but you're too broken to make your own decisions! You just don't know what you really want!'" With a sneer, she turned back to Fluttershy. "Wanna guess who the last person that told her that was?"

Ah, there it was—the slightest of cracks in Fluttershy's thin façade of confidence. "It's not the same thing and you know it," she said softly.

"I don't know that, actually," Sunset said. "All I know is that you'd rather I treat my girlfriend like damaged goods."

"That's not what I'm trying to say at all! I-I just… I want her to be safe!"

"And you think I don't?" Sunset said. "What, you think I never considered any of this? I agonized over this, Fluttershy! When she first told me she wanted to be with me, I was terrified of hurting her! I even insisted we take it slow, just for her sake!"

"Have you been?"

"Excuse me?"

Fluttershy frowned. "Have you been taking things slowly?

For a moment, Sunset was silent. After how far she and Wally had gone the other night, the honest answer was 'no.' That being said, an even more honest answer was 'it's none of your goddamn business.' She'd go with that.

"Well?" Fluttershy crossed her arms.

Sunset mimicked her. "The intimate details of my relationship are none of your fucking business."

"Sunset!" Fluttershy's expression was almost one of desperation. "What on earth has gotten into you? How could you possibly think this is what Wallflower needs right now?!"

"Because she told me! She told me she wants this, she told me needs me, she t-told me she loves me!" Sunset's voice cracked. "Are you saying she's lying?!"

"She was raped, Sunset! Rushing her into a relationship won't take that pain away, it'll just—"

Sunset slapped Fluttershy across the face as hard as she could.

Fluttershy stumbled back, clutching her cheek. Sunset stepped forward, looming over her with tears in her eyes.

"Don't you dare say that to me," Sunset said. "I know what she's been through. I know better than anyone what she's been through. I've seen it." Clutching her geode with a trembling hand, Sunset pushed the invasive flashes of suffocating terror to the back of her mind. "I-I've seen it."

Fluttershy couldn't meet her gaze, instead staring at the ground as she held her cheek. Sunset could make out the beginnings of a bruise spreading across it.

"...You're going to hurt her," Fluttershy said.

Sunset wiped her eyes and turned to leave. "I'd sooner die."