Best Left Forgotten

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.