Love Me Like You

by Scampy

Rating: teen
Tags: Equestria Girls, Sex, Suicide / Self Harm, Wallflower Blush, Sunset Shimmer, Drama, Romance
Length: 40729

Despite an awful past, Wallflower loves her life with Sunset and has for many years. Then she finds a secret Sunset's been hiding. Now Wallflower is determined to stop Sunset from making the biggest mistake of her life—asking Wallflower to marry her.

Eight years have passed since Wallflower Blush was rescued from a life on the streets by Sunset Shimmer. Learning to cope with the traumas that put her there—along with navigating a new relationship—wasn't easy. The life Wallflower lives now isn't perfect, but she's proud of how far she's come. With a loving relationship, a fulfilling job, and good friends, Wallflower is content to enjoy the stability offered by clinging endlessly and desperately to the present.

Then, she finds something Sunset has been keeping secret from her, and everything changes.

Now Wallflower is determined to stop Sunset from making the biggest mistake of her life—asking Wallflower to marry her.

Content Warning: This story contains realistic depictions of abuse, self-harm, suicidal ideation, and PTSD/C-PTSD.

Written together with Gay For Gadot ❤️

Cover art by our lovely and wonderfully talented friend Sandy. You're the best, hon ❤️

Special thanks to The Sleepless Beholder and Posh for editing!

Published 2023-02-14 20:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2023-02-21 20:46:01 UTC

Chapter 1 — Ship To Wreck

Of all the things Wallflower Blush ever imagined she'd do, throwing a house party wasn't one of them.

Well, apartment party. Nothing major, either. Just Sunset's—their friends. And no alcohol, of course. A condition Wallflower was still amazed they had all agreed to, even though it wasn't the first time. Wacky sodas that Pinkie Pie provided, along with all the dishes Wallflower had whipped up in the kitchen, seemed to be enough.

All of it was enough to make Wallflower smile.

At the moment, she was sitting on the couch between Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash, both of whom were their usual loud, boisterous selves. Seated nearby were Fluttershy and Applejack, who were alternating between ignoring Pinkie and Dash and indulging them.

"I dunno, Dashie!" Pinkie teased, crossing her arms. "I don't think you've got the guts to do it!"

After downing an entire bottle of root beer in one gulp, then belching loud enough to momentarily silence every conversation in the room, Dash replied, "Pffffft! I'll show you guts!"

Applejack sighed, then muttered to Pinkie, "Don't encourage her…"

Fluttershy reached over to pat Dash on the shoulder. "Remember your blood pressure, Rainbow."

"Gee, thanks, Mom."

With a soft chuckle, Wallflower turned away from their friends' continued banter. The last time she had seen her girlfriend, she was headed towards the kitchen. Wallflower looked back over her shoulder to find her.

Sunset Shimmer was at the sink, chatting away with Rarity. The two seemed to be engaged in an intense conversation, ignoring the raucous laughter in the living room in favor of hushed tones. Neither had noticed Wallflower looking their way. While Rarity appeared to be as dignified as ever, Sunset looked a little stressed.

Curious, Wallflower found herself staring. What could they be talking about that had Sunset looking so tense? To Wallflower's knowledge, the party was going great. In fact, everything was. Sunset had been doing well in grad school… Things were good between their friends… Even Wallflower had been doing well, working consistently, going to all of her appointments, taking care of chores and errands…

Just as Wallflower started running out of ideas, Rarity glanced over and met Wallflower's gaze. Immediately, Wallflower turned away, refocusing on the rest of the party. Whatever Rarity and Sunset were talking about, it wasn't any of her business. It was rude of her to be staring in the first place.

"So that's two versus two! What about you, flower girl?"

"Huh?" Wallflower jumped in response to Dash's question. "What about me?"

With a laugh, Dash pointed at herself. "Not you, me! What do you think about me jumping twenty buses on a motorcycle—" she paused, then exclaimed— "ooh! No, a flaming motorcycle! Into a pool full of bourbon!"

Wallflower raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you just say the motorcycle would be on fire?"

"Yeah! It'll be awesome!" Dash fist-pumped.

"...I'm staying out of this."

Instead of potentially being liable for Rainbow Dash's fiery doom, Wallflower grabbed some carrots and dip from a platter on the coffee table. Carrots weren't exactly her favorite vegetable, but she'd promised Sunset she would stay on the nutrient-heavy diet she'd been prescribed years ago. Even now, it was still important to mind her health.

Meanwhile, Applejack snickered and shook her head at Dash. "Still two versus two, Dash. No way."

"Dammit!" Dash groaned. "If only Twilight were here… Why's she gotta be off doing nerd shit while we're having an important discussion?"

Fluttershy cleared her throat. "Um, doesn't she work for NASA?"

"Like I said, nerd shit!"

A dainty scoff from behind her almost made Wallflower choke on her carrot.

"Honestly, Rainbow, must you be so crude?" Rarity took a seat beside Applejack. "At the very least, they're 'nerd activities.'"

While Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes in response, a much more pleasant surprise caught Wallflower's attention. Sunset gently sat down beside Wallflower on the couch, taking her girlfriend's carrotless hand in her own. Wallflower quickly finished her snack, then moved in for a kiss. The sound of their friends' laughter brought a smile to her face as they pulled away.

"You two are just adorable," Rarity gushed, clasping her hands together. "My my, has it been eight years already?"

Red-faced, Sunset murmured, "Something like that…"

Sunset was just so cute when she was flustered like this. Wallflower couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride as she chimed in, "It'll be eight years in just over a month."

"Oh, that's just wonderful." Fluttershy clapped. "I'm so happy you two found each other."

Somehow, Sunset blushed a deeper shade of red. "M-me too…"

Though Wallflower noted the shakiness in Sunset's voice, she declined to comment on it. Instead, she just squeezed her girlfriend's hand, then giggled when Rainbow Dash made a mock gagging noise.

"Blech! Enough with the mushy stuff!" Dash raised her empty root beer bottle up high. "C'mon, who wants to see me jump those buses?"

"Buses? You're still on that dumb stunt?" Confidence returned to Sunset's voice as she shot back, smirking, "Sounds pretty cringe to me."

Huffing, Dash threw up her hands in frustration. "Why do you keep saying that word?"

"Because it's based!" Sunset rolled her eyes. "Duh!"

Tilting her head, Pinkie asked, "Based on what?"

"Well, there's these really great memes that Wally sends me all the time, and—"

Wide-eyed, Pinkie cut in, "Wait, what was that other word?"

"Cringe?" Sunset offered.

Pinkie blinked, then exclaimed, "Cringe! What a fun word! Cringe cringe cringe cringe cringe!"

Applejack pinched the bridge of her nose, then mumbled to anyone who would listen, "Goddammit, not again…"

With a mock stretch-and-yawn over Sunset's shoulders, Wallflower braved making a joke. "Yeah, I really rub off on Sunset sometimes."

Rainbow Dash pointed at them and laughed. "Hah! Gay!"

Blushing, Wallflower replied after a brief pause, "Ye…yeah?"

"O-kay." Much to Wallflower's relief, Sunset came to her rescue. "If everyone's done eating, how about we start the movie?"

Dash snickered. "Bet you guys picked a gay movie," she said, before tucking her face into her elbow and sticking her other arm straight out behind her.

Sunset blinked. "Did you just fucking dab?"

"So what if I did?" Dash replied, still holding her pose.

"I'm pretty sure dabbing is cringe," Sunset said with a roll of her eyes.

Dash dabbed again. "Not when I do it!"

Applejack facepalmed. "Why are you like this?"

Between giggles, Wallflower tucked in closer to Sunset's embrace and snuggled into her shoulder. Once Rarity started the movie and the others quieted down, the only thing she focused on was the warmth of her girlfriend, and their home, as they sat there together.

Long past midnight, the last of their friends filed out of the apartment. Wallflower made sure everyone took home some leftover dessert, which consisted of a generous slice of strawberry pie topped with homemade whipped cream. All received it with a big smile—except for Applejack, who, to Sunset's apparent chagrin, was still prejudiced when it came to certain fruits. In years past, that would have been enough to bring Wallflower down. Now, she just laughed it off and didn't give it a second thought.

Once Sunset closed and locked the door, Wallflower wrapped her arms around her girlfriend from behind. She settled against her shoulder, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

Sunset's hands met Wallflower's own around her waist. "Good party, huh?"

"Mhmm."

With a quiet chuckle, Sunset laid her head atop Wallflower's. "I thought so too." After a moment, she added, "We have good friends."

Wallflower hummed, a growing smile on her face. "Yes we do."

"And messy ones." From the corner of her eye, Wallflower saw Sunset shake her head at the state of the apartment. "We should probably start cleaning soon if we're gonna get up before noon tomorrow."

As much as Wallflower was tempted to sleep in, especially on a weekend, she knew Sunset was right. Still, she responded with a meager protest of, "Just a little longer."

She could feel Sunset grin in response as she hugged her tight. "Alright. Just for you."

Several moments of standing cuddles later, the two pulled apart. Without a word, they set to work, divvying up the labor as they usually did.

While Wallflower started cleaning up the living room, Sunset headed into the kitchen. As she did so, Wallflower couldn't help but shoot a smile her way. All it had taken was one brief comment years ago about how she hated washing dishes, and Sunset had made it "her chore" without hesitation. Likewise, Wallflower was always happy to do the dusting and vacuuming that Sunset tended to put off.

Between tasks, Wallflower looked over to see Sunset sorting, washing, and drying dishes while she listened to music on her phone. Although her mind drifted to whatever Rarity and Sunset might have been talking about beside the sink, she pushed those thoughts away again. The night had been wonderful; she wasn't going to let one odd moment ruin it for her.

Less than an hour later, Wallflower had the living room tidy and clean. She tiptoed into the kitchen, arms poised and ready in hug position. When she threw them around Sunset—who was still elbow-deep in soapy suds—she earned a little giggle of surprise in turn.

"Sneak attack!" Wallflower giggled back, then kissed her girlfriend's cheek.

"Just in time, too." Sunset rinsed the last dish, pulled the plug at the bottom of the sink, and then returned the embrace. "All done?"

"All done." Wallflower grinned. "Now I have you all to myself."

Sunset smirked. "Oh?"

"Not that I wasn't enjoying hanging out with our friends," Wallflower clarified, though a part of her knew it was unnecessary. Still, there was no harm in being direct. "You've just been working so much this week, I haven't had much time to see you."

"Ah, well… They changed up the schedule and gave me a bunch of extra shifts." Sunset gave a half-hearted shrug. "It happens sometimes, especially closer to the holidays."

That slight pause in Sunset's reply was something that would have sent Wallflower spiraling with questions long ago. Although the temptation was still there, Wallflower mentally shrugged it off. "Oh, gotcha."

"In any case…" A familiar smirk returned to Sunset's face as she turned around and embraced Wallflower fully. "I have the whole weekend off. And I was wondering…" Her smirk grew to that cheeky little smile that still made Wallflower's heart skip a beat sometimes. "How does my baby girl feel about going out tomorrow night?"

"Yes!" Smiling from ear to ear, Wallflower pecked Sunset's lips before exclaiming again, "Ooh! Can we go to that Italian place?"

"Which Italian place?" Sunset laughed. "We have like, three, I think."

"The one in the city with the really great bolognese!"

"Bolognese it is." Sunset squeezed Wallflower's hand. "Wanna see a movie after? Or maybe check out that art festival in town?"

"Um…" Biting her lip, Wallflower mused over how to respond. "Those both sound fun, but we just had this party, y'know? Maybe we can do something that's just us? If that's okay, I mean." She exhaled softly and shrugged. "I guess my 'being in social environments' meter is tapped out."

Without hesitation, Sunset offered another suggestion. "It's supposed to be a clear night tomorrow, I think. How about we go for a drive to the lake after dinner? See some stars?"

"That sounds perfect." Wallflower kissed Sunset with her smile back on her lips. "Just like you."

With a satisfied hum, Sunset replied, "I do my best." She then pulled away, her eyes drifting to the clock on the wall. "Wanna get ready for bed?"

"I think—" Wallflower yawned— "that's a good idea."

Sunset's arm found its rightful place around Wallflower's waist as they left the kitchen. "Y'know," Sunset began, flicking off the lightswitch behind them, "maybe someday we'll move somewhere with a bigger kitchen."

"That'd be great, honestly." Wallflower leaned into her touch. "There are so many recipes I'd love to try if we had room for a bigger stove. Or a smoker."

"Well, we'd probably need a house if you wanted to have a smoker."

The sound of a loud car driving past their street made Wallflower flinch. Shaking it off, she nonetheless felt a twinge of irritation. "It'd be nice to live somewhere a little further from town. Ideally someplace with less stupid jerks in stupidly loud cars." After her nerves settled a bit, she continued. "Maybe on the coast?"

"Imagine if we could find a place like that little cabin we always talk about renting?" Sunset turned on the bathroom light, then handed Wallflower her toothbrush. As she added toothpaste to hers, she continued, "Or maybe we could live up in the mountains. I'd love to live on the side of a mountain again—the views are incredible."

The coast or the mountains… Both sounded lovely for their own reasons. Letting the silence hang between them, Wallflower contemplated those possibilities as they went through their nightly routine. Waking up to the roar of the sea, seeing freshly fallen snow every winter, sharing a home with Sunset in a place that was truly theirs… No matter the location, it just felt right.

When their teeth were brushed, faces washed, and medications taken, the couple made their way into the bedroom. The nest of blankets on the bed was divided between them, pillows fluffed, and the light turned off. Then, and only then, did Wallflower finally reply, nestled in her girlfriend's arms.

"Either one would be great. Or anywhere else, really." Wallflower felt Sunset pull her closer. "I don't really care where I live, so long as it's with you."

Their lips met, a long and slow kiss that was warm and grounding and freeing all in the same instance.

And when Sunset smiled and looked into her eyes, saying, "That's all I need, too," Wallflower knew things were never brighter.

Pietro's was a little hole-in-the wall on the south side of town, near the limits of Canterlot City before it gave way to rolling hills and distant mountains. Converted from a large family home into a bustling restaurant, it was one of the city's hidden gems. In another life, Wallflower would have been put off by the crowded dining area, narrow walkways, and constant noise of patrons and kitchen. In another life, she never would have ventured inside.

Tonight, in this one, Wallflower sat across one of Pietro's small tables from Sunset, holding her hand and gazing into her absolutely gorgeous eyes. The hustle and blur of waitstaff and customers around them didn't sway her one moment. The bread basket between them was half-empty; if it weren't for needing to save room for the main course, there wouldn't have been a crumb left. Everything was amazing here, from the soft glow of candlelight on their tiny table, to the paintings on the walls, to the plate of bolognese that was sure to arrive any moment now…

"I'm so glad we made time for this," Wallflower murmured, stroking Sunset's palm with her thumb. "It's been way too long."

"Agreed." Sunset brought Wallflower's hand to her lips and kissed it. "Remember the first time we went on a date here?"

"Oh gosh…" Letting out a sigh, Wallflower mused, "I think I spent, like, two hours getting ready for our first big fancy date." She glanced down at the light, flowy blue dress she wore—a spontaneous gift from Sunset during a random mall outing many years ago. "I didn't even have a dress back then."

Sunset smiled. "And now you have several. Although, yeah, you definitely took your sweet-ass time." Her smile settled into more of an easy smirk. "But I guess that's fair—you do have a pretty sweet ass."

Doing her best to ignore the heat of embarrassment that was no doubt painting her face bright red, Wallflower just giggled. "It's not my fault, okay? Do you have any idea how hard it is to pick out clothes for a nice date when most of what you own is scraggly oversized garbage?"

"I can imagine," Sunset said. "But no more scraggly garbage date clothes for my baby. Just cute dresses."

"I still can't believe my mom never let me have one…" Wallflower shook her head. "Actually, I can totally believe it. She always said I'd look slutty in a dress, but I think she was really just worried about me making her look ugly."

Sipping at her Italian soda, Sunset rolled her eyes. "Like you needed a dress to do that. Or anything else. Your mother was one of the most disgusting people I've ever seen." She let out a bitter laugh. "I still can't believe the pudgy, red-faced alcoholic pig in those pictures ever had the nerve to call you ugly."

Wallflower sipped at her own soda in turn. "Mom sure was a fun lady."

"I'm glad she doesn't remember you, because if she'd tried to come back into your life after you left…" Something dark burned behind Sunset's eyes. "I might've just snapped that bitch in half."

"As much as I appreciate the sentiment," Wallflower said, "I'm glad you don't have to."

"Me too." Sunset's gaze softened, a smile returning to her lips. "You've come a long way since getting away from her, Wally. You should be proud of yourself."

Dark, dim memories curled into Wallflower's mind, worming their way through her thoughts. Using the Memory Stone on her mother—her abuser—and never looking back as the front door to the only home she'd ever known slammed behind her; hiding in hotels, motels, vacant properties, using the mind magic to make anyone and everyone forget they had ever seen her; lurking in grocery stores but never having the courage to steal, even with the Stone in her pocket; desperate for food, picking through garbage for anything that wasn't too moldy or spoiled, even staking out abandoned tables at the mall food court for scraps.

When the Stone was shattered to pieces, everything became so much harder. Running out of hiding places that were safe and dry, riding the free city bus over and over just so she could have a place to sit down and sleep for a few minutes... Hoarding complementary packets of dry crackers from fast food joints when she couldn't bring herself to look into another trash can… Always scared, always hungry, always sick, always aware of how close to the edge she was.

And through it all, with no home or friends or familiarity to anchor her, the only constant in her life had been the bite of razors pulled from cheap pencil sharpeners and the disfiguring scars they left in their wake. An old, nasty habit, something she had picked up somewhere along the way when she was a child, though she still couldn't remember how or why it started.

She knew when she'd stopped, though. She had been clean for over seven years now, and she would never, ever look back.

Wallflower pushed the memories away, forcing herself back to the present with the bright colors of the restaurant and the concerned warmth in Sunset's eyes. Slowly, she took a deep breath. "If you and the girls hadn't been at the mall that day, I don't know how much longer I would have lasted." She squeezed Sunset's hand tight. "Sometimes I wonder what would've happened to me if you hadn't found me."

"The soon-to-be therapist in me wants to tell you that you don't have to worry about answering that question, but…" Sunset shrugged and looked away. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about it too."

"All I know is it's a good thing you're braver than me. I probably spent close to an hour just lingering and trying to work up the courage to talk to you, but…" Looking down for a moment, Wallflower just shook her head. "I guess I was scared that you'd just laugh at me."

"You're a lot braver than you think, Wally." Sunset gently placed both of her hands atop Wallflower's. "And I could never laugh at you. Even if I didn't know everything that was going on yet, the moment I saw you picking through our leftovers, I just, I dunno… I had this feeling that if I didn't do something, right then and there, I'd probably never see you again."

Wallflower couldn't help but laugh. "I remember how mortified I was when you came up and started talking to me, like you hadn't just seen me stuffing my face with cold veggie soup like a fucking gremlin.

Sunset smiled sweetly at her. "The cutest gremlin I've ever seen."

"Even back then, I had such a huge crush on you, y'know. When you saw me all scraggly and skinny and gross like that, I just wanted to curl up and die."

Sunset kissed her hand again. "You weren't gross, baby. You just needed help." After a moment, she added under her breath, "Not that you made that easy for me…"

Wallflower said with a huff, "I went with you when you asked!"

"After like an hour of dancing around the issue." Sunset smirked. "And then I caught someone trying to sneak out of my apartment that first night too."

Wallflower sighed. "Would you believe me if I told you I literally didn't know what I was doing?"

"I would."

"I think by that point, I'd been so hungry and so exhausted for so long that nothing even seemed real anymore. Like I knew I was there, just… It didn't make sense, and all I could think was that I had to get away." Wallflower turned to one of the restaurant's wide windows beside her, staring out at the expanse of headlights and street lamps and harsh, frigid streets. "Even if I had nowhere else to go."

Sunset held her hand a little tighter. "And now you always have somewhere you belong." She paused, then added, "And someone you belong with."

All the lights outside blurred together. "It seems so obvious in retrospect, but at the time, I… I dunno, I just didn't want to be a burden to you. Or anyone else." Wallflower turned to meet Sunset's gaze. "I still don't. But you never treat me like one."

"Of course not," Sunset said quietly, in that warm, relieved way she often did. "And look at you now, eight years later. Working a job you love, almost a decade of therapy under your belt, and wearing a pretty dress on a date with your girlfriend."

With a heavy, happy sigh, Wallflower said, "Life's just perfect now."

The two exchanged smiles and a brief kiss before Sunset spoke up again. "So…" She took a slow breath, her eyes locked on Wallflower's. "How does it feel to know the rest of your life will be like this?"

The rest of her life?

The rest of her life—

Something harsh and fearful flared up in Wallflower's mind, but before she let it show, habits learned through years of practicing mindfulness took over. Without even needing to prompt herself, she slowed her breathing and fully took in the scene before her. The happy clamor of Pietro's. The savory scent of garlic that whispered of the meal to come. The sweet taste of her Italian soda as she brought it to her lips. The cool feel of the table beneath her fingers.

Most of all, the sight of her beautiful girlfriend as she smiled back at her, waiting.

As her sense of stability returned, Wallflower replied, "That's a nice thought."

Before she could—or would—elaborate further, the waitress arrived, plates of bolognese and seafood fettuccine in hand. Romance was abruptly shoved aside in favor of pasta.

For the rest of the dinner, Wallflower focused, as she always did, on the here and now.

Leaning back against Sunset's car, Wallflower gazed up at the starry sky in almost reverent silence. No matter how many times they made the drive out here, it never failed to mesmerize her. Here, the last lights of the city had long faded, the only lamps the stars and moon. Other than the occasional cricket or frog, they were alone, enjoying a place that felt like theirs.

"Remember the first time I drove us out here?"

Sunset's quiet question couldn't break the spell. Wallflower continued looking up at the stars as she answered, "I'd never seen the sky all lit up like that before."

"The stars are different where I'm from, but I didn't realize that for years, because of the light pollution. It wasn't until about a year before I met you, I went camping at this lake with the girls." In the dark, Wallflower saw Sunset's smile widen. "When I saw the night sky, I decided that whenever I finally did meet someone special, I would bring her here to see it, too."

There was that little flutter in her chest again. "You're so sappy," Wallflower said, giggling.

"You love it."

"I do."

"And I love you."

As Wallflower laid her head on Sunset's shoulder, she said with a peaceful sigh, "I love you too."

They stood like that for some time, wind gently playing with their hair, locked in a warm and sweet embrace. It was not an uncommon scene, nor an uncommon moment. Nevertheless, it always felt as special as the first time.

"I'm really glad I've been able to make this place special for you," Sunset said, almost in a whisper.

"Me too." Wallflower squeezed her arm. "We have a lot of special places. Pietro's, this lake, the cove by that little town on the coast, that old observatory in the mountains…"

"What about the cinema?"

"The cinema's nice, yeah."

"I mean…" Sunset looked over at her with a smirk, a husky purr in her voice. "When we get seats way in the back of the cinema."

Warmth spreading on her cheeks, Wallflower giggled, "Well, yes… That too."

Sunset giggled in turn. The two of them drew in close for a kiss before returning to the stars again.

After a moment, Sunset spoke up once more. "So, there's something I've been thinking about. Excluding the cinema, for obvious reasons, maybe we could… Well…"

As she trailed off, Wallflower prompted, "Hm?"

Turning to fully face her, Sunset asked, "How would you feel about… maybe bringing someone else to some of our special places someday?" She paused, eyes shining in the moonlight. "Maybe a little girl?"

…A little girl? Who was Sunset talking about—?

Wallflower's breath left her, and suddenly it was all she could do to force out a whispered reply. "Like… like a daughter?"

As soon as that last word left Wallflower's lips, a glowing smile spread across her girlfriend's face like nothing Wallflower had ever seen. "Yeah… A daughter," Sunset said.

Wallflower heard the waver in Sunset's voice as she kept speaking, but the words faded into nothing. Images flashed through Wallflower's mind, unfocused but impossible to mistake—she and Sunset, together, and a third figure with them. A little girl. A daughter.

Her daughter.

What would she look like? Would she be one of theirs? Both of theirs? Was such a thing possible? What would she sound like? Who would she take after? Would they take her to this place, this spot by the lake where they were now, in a few years? Would it be special to her? Would she love this place? Would she love Sunset? Would she love Wallflower? Would she love her… her mothers—?

"...Wouldn't that be wonderful, Wally?"

All at once, the images, the questions, everything in her mind stopped. Wallflower grabbed them by the scruff and shoved them back into the recesses of her consciousness, an anxiety for another time, always for another time. She forced herself back to the present with the sound of crickets and wind and water and Sunset's voice. Reality settled back in around her, and Wallflower focused, as she always did, on the here and now.

With a smile and a sigh, Wallflower met Sunset's gaze. "Yeah," she said, feigning a neutral reply. "That could be nice."

A playlist of their favorite songs serenaded them home on the drive back from the lake. Between dinner, stargazing, and singing, Wallflower was feeling both as light as a feather and as heavy as a stone in freefall.

Still, that didn't stop her from resting her hand on Sunset's thigh as she drove down twisting backroads and lonely highways. Once they were back in the city proper, Sunset drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the other tangling her fingers with Wallflower's own.

Though it was a cold night, Wallflower basked in the warmth of their embrace as they pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex. Before Sunset could open the door, Wallflower moved a hand up to her cheek, pulling her in for a deep kiss.

Breaking the kiss, Sunset laid her forehead against Wallflower's, grinning. "I think I know what someone wants for dessert."

"Mmmm." Sighing happily, Wallflower mused, "I want ice cream."

"Lucky for you—" Sunset playfully poked Wallflower's nose— "we still have some chocolate chip in the freezer."

"Mmm, good."

Sunset pulled the key out of the ignition and started to get up, only to be held in place by Wallflower's arms. Wallflower gave her another kiss, deeper this time, apparently distracting Sunset enough that she almost dropped the keys.

"I thought you said you wanted ice cream," Sunset teased, running her fingers through Wallflower's hair. "You're acting like you want something spicier."

Putting on her best pout, Wallflower asked in a pleading tone, "Can't I have both?"

Sunset ran her free hand down Wallflower's back as she pecked her lips. "Mmmm, only because you asked so nicely. Like a good girl."

The heat rushing to Wallflower's face at that last line was soon cast aside in favor of the chill of the night air. Between more light touches and kisses, the two made their way from the car at last to the apartment door. A few turns of a key later, and they were kicking off their shoes, barely locking the door behind them.

Sunset turned around, starting to say something, before Wallflower seized her once more in a kiss. A tangle of limbs and windswept hair made their way to the couch, Wallflower pulling Sunset on top of her.

"Aren't you eager," Sunset said with a soft chuckle, the warmth of her words in Wallflower's ear sending chills down her spine. "If I hadn't gotten out of the car fast enough, you—"

"It's been a while, okay?" Wallflower interrupted, frowning in mock offense.

Sunset laughed. "It's been like a week!"

"I'm impatient!" Wallflower whined. "You've been working so late, and I didn't wanna keep you up or make you late for anything, so I've just been—!"

A squeak of surprise escaped her lips as Sunset kissed her again. Wallflower giggled. "Nevermind, let's just keep doing that."

Sunset tilted her head. "So, no ice cream?"

"Of course we're gonna have ice cream, just later!" This time, Wallflower was actually a little offended. "Do you even know who you're talking to?"

The feeling of a soft hand on her cheek drew Wallflower's eyes to Sunset's. "You know I could never forget a face like this." Sunset smiled down at her, those perfect blue eyes of hers shining like stars, and suddenly everything else melted away. It was just Wallflower and her girlfriend—her love—and the blazing fire of love and bliss flowering between them, burning away every thought Wallflower had except one.

"Bed?"

The ghost of Sunset's breath on her neck, followed by the embrace of her lips, was Sunset's answer. Rising to her feet, Sunset took Wallflower's hand and guided her towards the bedroom. Wallflower followed her, never once losing Sunset's gaze.

The moment Wallflower laid down, she pulled Sunset on top of her, sprawling them both together on the bed. Just as she reached up to bring Sunset down closer to her, Sunset kissed her again. The desire between them was palpable, and Wallflower felt it growing by the second, burning away anything that stood in its path.

No doubt or fear or trauma could touch her here. Only Sunset could. Everything was heat and warmth and joy and love, so much love. Long, lingering kisses, interspersed with little ones peppered at her forehead, cheeks, and neck. Wandering hands tore at buttons and zippers and hooks in between caresses, a pile of clothing growing on the floor. The comfort of skin-on-skin beckoned Wallflower further, and it was all she could do not to lose herself in Sunset's touch.

When they momentarily paused for breath, red-faced and smiling and ready, all Wallflower could say was, "I love you so much, Sunset." She reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her girlfriend's ear. "I really, really do."

In this light, Sunset glowed, almost radiant. "I really, really love you too, Wally," she said, before her kisses started to trail down lower than Wallflower's neck, and everything coalesced into one continuous, eternal experience of bliss.

The weekend—date night especially, in more ways than one—was just what Wallflower had needed. Between her job and appointments, and Sunset's grad school and job of her own, things had seemed more hectic than usual. A fantastic Saturday night date, followed by a lazy Sunday of watching too many cartoons and putting off what few chores they had left, brought a sense of peace and routine back to their household.

By the time Monday rolled around, Wallflower was ready to face the week. It wasn't a busy one—just her therapy appointment, one of two she had every month, along with a couple shifts at her part-time job. Landscaping at the clinic allowed her to both utilize her natural talents and give back to the people who had helped change her life for the better. Although it wasn't enough to pay for everything on her own, it had been a big step—one Sunset made possible by working all these years on top of finishing school.

While Wallflower's schedule was looking manageable, Sunset's was a different story. By the afternoon, during their usual phone call on Sunset's lunch break on campus, Sunset already seemed to be having a rough day.

"My boss texted me this week's schedule. I've got shifts after school all across the board," Sunset lamented. An audible groan followed. "The holiday rush is kinda insane… Sorry babe."

"No sorries, hon," Wallflower assured. She felt a little guilty as she relaxed on the couch at home, her tasks for the day already done. "You have nothing to be sorry for. What time do you think you'll be home tonight? Just so I'll have dinner ready when you get home," she added, wishing Sunset could see her smile at the thought.

She heard the smile in her voice, though, which was almost as good.. "Aww, you don't have to do that for me, sweetie. I can just grab something quick on the way home." There was that sigh again. "I think it's going to be a long one today."

"Is it really that busy during the holidays where they need you so much?" Wallflower couldn't help being a little mad, especially on her girlfriend's behalf. "Your boss knows you're still in grad school, right?"

"He does, but…" Another pause. "We're the main distribution center for the post office, and you know how much crap people order online…"

Wallflower could only hope she wasn't going to add, however inadvertently, to Sunset's workload once she started her own shopping. "Yeah… That's fair. At least you get to listen to your headset in the warehouse, right?"

"I guess. And the extra pay is pretty nice," Sunset said, then audibly took a bite of her sandwich. "Thank you for the yummy lunch, by the way."

"Of course, hon!" Wallflower beamed. "I'll let you go so you can finish it, okay?"

After a moment, Sunset replied, "Okay. I have just enough time after my next class to get to work, so I probably won't be able to message you for a while."

"That's okay. I'll be here if you need me, okay?"

"Okay, Wally. Have a good day, love you."

"Love you too, Sun—"

The call cut off. Sunset had sounded rather rushed at the end too. Whispers of anxiety lingered in Wallflower's mind, but… No, she was just overthinking things again. Sunset had a busy day, after all. Nothing to worry about.

The hours Wallflower spent in their apartment alone always seemed to pass with all the haste of molasses. Time ticked by with relentless plodding as Wallflower tried to find something to do. With no work or therapy for today, the apartment already clean, and the last of the laundry in the dryer, she resorted to endlessly scrolling on her phone as day turned to night.

Normally, the monotony of days like this would be broken up by periodic text messages from Sunset. Even if it was just a simple message like, "heading to class," or random memes Sunset browsed on her breaks, it helped. Today, however, Sunset had only sent one message since lunch—a quick text that said she had made it to work. And while that did help Wallflower's anxiety—just a little—the relative silence otherwise was a little concerning.

No matter. This was just a temporary increase in hours; things would settle back down for them again soon.

Since Sunset had declined her offer of a home-cooked dinner, Wallflower settled on making a box of macaroni and cheese when she got hungry enough. To balance things out nutritionally, she only ate about a third, saving the rest for later and finishing with some leftover veggies from the party.

By the time Wallflower finished cleaning up from dinner and put the last load of laundry—mostly Sunset's clothes—in a hamper, it was almost ten o'clock. She sighed as she sat back down on the couch, considering calling Sunset. Instead, she just fired off a quick text message asking if everything was okay.

A couple minutes later, Wallflower's phone rang. "Hey, you," she said as she answered it.

"Sorry!" Sunset sounded stressed. "Sorry! I meant to call earlier on my break, but then one of my co-workers needed help with something and I kinda got distracted and—"

"It's okay, hon," Wallflower soothed. And it truly was—just hearing Sunset's voice made all the restlessness of all the hours before melt away. "You're off work now, I hope?"

"Yeah!" The sound of a crackling loudspeaker followed. "I was just getting something at the drive-thru really quick. I was going to call you while I was waiting, but the line moved faster than I thought."

Wallflower smiled. "That's okay. So you're on your way home then?"

"Yeah, I should be there in like, ten minutes."

"Awesome!" Before she could forget, Wallflower went over to unlock the door. "The front door will be unlocked for you. Let me know if you need help getting stuff from the car, okay?"

A sigh of relief was all the confirmation Wallflower needed. "Thank you, Wally. I—I'm on my way."

"Drive safe, hon. I love you!"

"I love you too, sweetie."

Wallflower hung up, but didn't put her phone away. The next ten minutes that passed dragged on somehow longer than the ten hours that preceded them.

Soon enough, the telltale sound of work boots climbing the stairs to their apartment signaled that her solitude was finally coming to a close. Even though it was late and they would likely need to go to bed within a few hours at most, it was always Wallflower's favorite part of the day.

As soon as Sunset appeared in the doorway, Wallflower joined her side, greeting her with a swift kiss. "Hey, you."

Smiling, Sunset kissed her back. "Hey…"

Though she was as beautiful as ever, Sunset looked absolutely wrecked by this point. Her eyes were already drooping, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail. Her backpack was slung over one shoulder, her work bag over the other. Although Wallflower would never say so, on days like this, Sunset tended to smell like—well, work. A bit sweaty, a tad grimy, and just a pinch metallic. Warehouse gunk, Sunset called it.

Wallflower grabbed the bag of fast food and large soda that Sunset was balancing in one arm. "I'll put this on the kitchen table for you, okay? Why don't you go and get all comfy."

"...Okay," Sunset said after a moment, sounding almost in a daze.

Though the reply was less than Wallflower hoped for, it was enough for now. After a brief pit-stop to place Sunset's dinner on the counter, she followed her girlfriend to the bedroom. She sat with Sunset as she changed out of clothes marred by rushing between classes followed by a full day's work. Even if Wallflower couldn't relieve all the stress and exhaustion Sunset's schedule inflicted on her, she could still be present. A flirtatious remark here, a gentle half-embrace there… Whatever little gestures she could offer that would put a smile on Sunset's face, for however brief a time.

As Sunset pulled a freshly cleaned set of pajamas from the hamper beside their bed, Wallflower jumped to her feet. The usual division of labor was for Wallflower to wash the clothes and for Sunset to put them away, but Sunset had done enough already. "How about I put these clothes away while you eat?" Wallflower offered. "You've worked hard enough today."

Sunset gave her an apprehensive glance. "You sure?"

"Of course!" Wallflower took her hand. "One less thing for you to worry about tonight. You go start on dinner, I'll join you as soon as I'm done here, okay?"

A tired smile accompanied Sunset's answer. "Okay. Thanks, Wally."

"Don't mention it," Wallflower said. She gave Sunset a brief hug, then playfully swatted her on the shoulder. "Now go eat your damn food!"

"Yes, ma'am," Sunset snickered as she returned to the kitchen. Wallflower watched her go, smiling to herself. Another job well done in her duties as a good and supportive girlfriend.

She set to work immediately, dumping the hamper's contents out onto the bed and pulling out any towels she saw. As she folded and stacked them, she again felt a tiny swell of pride in her chest, an increasingly familiar feeling that struck her whenever she managed to prove one of her mother's long list of accusations to be dead wrong.

"So much for being a 'parasite,' huh?" she said to herself, smirking.

Wallflower's thoughts kept wandering as she carried a pile of a half-dozen folded shirts to Sunset's dresser. She had worked so, so hard to achieve the level of stability that let her do things that would've seemed impossible just a few short years ago. Things like getting a job she not only could handle, but enjoyed. Things like being in public spaces on her own without being completely overwhelmed by fear. Things like being able to host parties, to be confident and self-assured, to live her own life in the present she fought like hell to reach in one piece.

The past was all too painful and the future was always uncertain, but in the present, Wallflower knew she was safe.

Opening the bottom drawer, Wallflower tried her best to make some space among the already-stuffed rows of messily folded shirts and tank tops Sunset owned. As it turned out, having a fashion enthusiast as one of her closest friends meant Sunset was constantly inundated with new things to wear, and Sunset's less-than-perfect technique when it came to folding said clothes meant the space in her dresser wasn't always used as efficiently as it could be. After more than a few fruitless attempts to stack the freshly washed clothes into the drawer, only to have it be too full to close, Wallflower resolved to just pull the whole thing out and re-fold and stack its contents.

With a bit of effort, she managed to free the drawer from the dresser and turned to place it on the floor. As she did, though, something caught her eye.

Beneath the dresser, tucked in the back of the empty space behind where the drawer usually sat, was a little box.

Immediately, the little voice of reason in Wallflower's head told her no. Tiny secret box hidden under Sunset's dresser? Whatever it was clearly wasn't any of Wallflower's business, so the best thing she could do would be to put the drawer back and pretend she never saw it.

Only… she did see it. And she kept seeing it, because for whatever reason, she couldn't seem to look away.

Memories flashed through her head. Memories of a little box she'd hidden from Sunset for the first few months they lived together, full of sharp things and regrets. Memories of the shame in her heart and the sorrow in Sunset's eyes when the little box was found. Memories of endless apologies and tears and promises to never keep secrets anymore, promises to always, always be honest about her feelings and to never, ever hide things from Sunset ever again, while Sunset promised to do the same for her.

They didn't keep secrets from each other. They didn't.

So why did Sunset have a secret box hidden under her dresser?

Just as the anxiety and doubts started to spiral, something in her head clicked, and the memories of years past were swiftly supplanted by memories of just the last week.

Wallflower remembered Sunset and Rarity breaking off from the rest of the party to have a seemingly intense conversation away from prying ears. She remembered Sunset speaking of a bright and happy future as if it was set in stone and couldn't melt away at a moment's notice, then prompting Wallflower to agree. She remembered those words spoken by the lake, words that flashed a beautiful and terrifying series of images and questions through her mind as she tried to imagine what their daughter would look like.

Disquieting but disconnected moments suddenly took shape into something that forced Wallflower to reach into the space beneath Sunset's dresser and pull out the tiny box.

A thousand thoughts spun through her mind like a cyclone as she held it in her hands, and the second she opened it, every single one of them vanished as all of Wallflower's hopes and fears were confirmed.

Within the tiny box, she saw a tiny ring—a single orange gem set into a band of white gold that could only be meant for her.

Chapter 2 — Blinding

Wallflower knelt on the floor of her bedroom, hunched over the tiny box clutched between her trembling hands. Her eyes scanned the familiar soft blue walls lined with little art pieces from their trips to the coast and copious photos of Sunset and her smiling, searching for something, anything to ground her. Something to anchor her in the present, to grab her mind and force it to focus, to keep herself within her own head instead of floating away in the treacherous currents of the past or future.

For all her efforts, Wallflower couldn't look away from the ring.

There was no present to be found in the little orange gemstone at its heart. Instead, as Wallflower stared into the the expertly cut facets of the ring—her engagement ring—years of constant strain and effort to keep her mind from drifting too far into the waters of an uncertain future all came undone in an instant, and just like that the walls and pictures and floor and herself and everything that wasn't the little box with its little ring faded into her periphery.

Wallflower stared at the ring, and her future stared back. Only, unlike the endless kaleidoscope of dismal possibilities she saw whenever she'd considered where her life may end up, this time there was no doubt. And, unlike the many times she'd been certain her future would contain only misery and an early grave, this time it was full of life and light and all the good, wonderful things she ever wanted.

In that ring, she saw Sunset and herself, together now, tomorrow, next week and next month and next year and forever. She saw the familiar comforts of her hard-won slice of quiet domesticity become a sprawling path that stretched off into infinity.

Along that path, she saw everything that was hers and everything that would be. She saw wedding dresses and honeymoons, she saw the home they had now and the house that would be theirs one day, she saw all the nights and years and decades of enjoying home-cooked meals together, of falling asleep in Sunset's arms, of looking down and seeing that ring on her finger and knowing that it was hers and Sunset was hers and they would belong to each other forever.

In that ring, Wallflower saw her daughter's face. She saw golden red hair and freckled cheeks and soft brown eyes much like her own. She saw her child smiling brightly as she held her mothers' hands whenever they all went out. She felt her touch, heard her voice, rejoiced at the swell of love in her heart whenever her baby girl laughed. She saw herself putting her little girl to bed, with Sunset by her side, silently watching the new life that was theirs and knowing that the overflowing, endless wellspring of love they had for each other finally had someone else they could share it with.

Wallflower turned the ring over in her hand, her eyes unblinking as she watched the way the light danced along its edges. Despite not knowing much about gemstones or jewelry, she could tell it was wildly expensive. No wonder Sunset had been working so much lately—she must have been planning this for months, maybe even longer.

The notion made Wallflower's head spin. How had she not seen this coming? Of course this would happen sooner or later, wouldn't it? She had always known she would spend the rest of her life with Sunset Shimmer, if only she would've let herself think about it. They'd been together for their entire adult lives, their souls fit together perfectly, they were partners for life in every sense of the word. Of course Sunset was going to ask Wallflower to marry her. Why should that mean that anything about the life she already loved would change?

Why was it so terrifying?

Something cold and heavy twisted its way through her gut. With nothing to anchor her mind, the here and now slipped through her fingers like fine grains of sand. Just as quickly as they had come, those beautiful visions of the future were snuffed out by angry, roiling memories of the past, and Wallflower was powerless to escape them.

Instead of Sunset, Wallflower saw her mother, red-faced and stinking of cheap wine as she screamed obscenities and insults and deep, gruesome truths that torched whatever shreds of self-worth Wallflower ever had down to ash and dust. She felt the seizing fear of death grow distant as she recalled her mother striking her and shoving her to the ground and squeezing the air from her lungs, and she resented the quiet, tired apathy that settled in her heart when her mother let her go, and she realized death was exactly what she wanted.

She felt the angry sting of a razor blade she'd taken from a pencil sharpener as she pulled it across her left forearm. She felt the gnawing urge to cut herself burn inside her skin any time something bad happened. She felt the smothering heat inflicted by the summer sun punish her for hiding her cuts beneath thick sweaters, driving her further and further into the black pit of loneliness.

She heard the rush of traffic and the coaxing whispers of the wind as she stared down from the top floor of that parking deck she'd climbed almost a decade ago, only to spend hours standing on the edge until red and blue lights finally flashed beneath her. She felt the brief pull of gravity as she stepped over the ledge, only to be yanked back onto solid ground by uniformed faces she couldn't remember and dragged away to a tiny hospital room.

She existed far away from the endless streams of static in her ears as her mother argued with people in scrubs for days on end, until she was sent back to the hell she'd been so desperate to escape from. She sank into the deep pit of shame in her chest when her mother glared at her, and felt the soreness of the bruises swelling her cheek when she struck her again. She lost count of the scars that lined her left arm and her thighs as she added new cuts every single day. She longed for an escape, for an end, for her life to shrivel and fade into the invisible nothingness she had already been for years.

She held hope in her hands when she found the Memory Stone. She grasped desperately at the only form of power she had, using the magic to escape her anxieties and mistakes, all the while feeding her depression and self-hatred with every memory of herself that she erased from those around her.

She tasted blood when her mother hit her again. She saw the flashes of light from the Stone, felt the pounding of her heart as she scavenged any traces of her existence from the only home she'd ever known and threw them in the trash on her way out. She withered beneath the hollow, gnawing eternity of hungry days, frigid nights and the constant, hounding fear of being seen by anyone. She was swallowed beneath endless waves of guilt in the days after the girl she would fall in love with somehow forgave her for doing the unforgivable. She gasped at the familiar bite of a razor on her skin again and again and again and—and…

Catapulted back to the present, Wallflower at last found her anchor. Her eyes fell to her sleeve, which she desperately tugged back to reveal the many rows of scars that still lingered from her ill-fated adolescence.

Sunset always told her they were basically faded by now. She even said she couldn't see them anymore. But Wallflower could.

To her, they may as well have been as red and angry as the days she made them. Some ran parallel in neat rows down the length of her forearm while others had been slashed wildly during intense fits of self-loathing. Some were thin lines that ghosted almost invisibly beneath the surface of her skin, but others were wide, pale stretches of aged scar tissue, beacons to all the world that Wallflower was sick. Just looking at them made her arm prickle with that familiar urge she would never escape from, no matter how many years she put between herself and her last relapse.

How could Sunset want to marry this?

Even if she did, how could Wallflower possibly explain these scars to the child they would have someday? How could she share this side of herself without making her own daughter disgusted by her?

Her gaze turned to the ring again. It still held her future, a lifetime of love and happiness and never feeling alone again. It held her—her marriage, her child, her hopes and dreams and all the good and wonderful things in the world. Everything was so beautiful, so blissful, so bright—too bright.

It was too much. It was all too much.

This was all wrong.

Even in her periphery, her scars burned themselves into her vision. They were her reminders, weren't they? Messages from her past, indisputable proof offered by her younger self to show her the only future she deserved. She didn't deserve that ring. She didn't deserve Sunset. She didn't even deserve to be alive—

No, no, that wasn't true, she… she had suffered enough, hadn't she? What was the point of going through all the years of abuse and misery and loneliness if not to give herself a chance to be happy? She deserved to be happy. She fought like hell to survive long enough to make it to this point, and she deserved to be happy.

She deserved to be happy… and so did Sunset.

The thought struck her like a bullet fired from the world's most obvious gun. Of course Sunset deserved to be happy, Wallflower had always known that. Aside from one stupid, stupid mistake when they were still in school together, Wallflower had always wanted Sunset to be happy. She wanted Sunset to smile forever, to be surrounded by just as much joy and light and goodness as Sunset herself brought to the world.

Wallflower swallowed thickly as she turned the ring over in her hand again. This… This wasn't about making Sunset happy with cute gestures or warm embraces or mild attempts at comforting after a bad day. This was about the rest of her life—the rest of their lives.

If Sunset gave her that ring, and Wallflower said yes, would Wallflower be able to make Sunset's life a happy one? A truly happy one?

Her eyes returned to her arm, where the answer to that question had been carved into her skin years ago.

She was poison. She was weak and mutilated and no matter how much effort she put towards fighting or concealing it, the truth was that Wallflower would spend the rest of her life dragging Sunset down with all her expensive uselessness, her inescapable traumas, and her constant, stupid, pathetic urges to hurt herself whenever literally anything went wrong.

If they got married, Wallflower would be overjoyed... and Sunset would be miserable.

Maybe not immediately, and maybe not for a while. But Wallflower knew herself, and she knew, as sure as she knew she loved Sunset, that her little attempts to play at recovery and stability could never last. Eventually she'd crash and burn down to her natural state of an incapable, self-destructive idiot, and Sunset would be forced to pick up the pieces and pay for the damage because her useless parasite of a wife couldn't keep her shit together. And even if Wallflower tried to pick herself back up, the same cycle would play out again and again and again until either Sunset couldn't take it anymore or Wallflower did her a favor and just fucking died—

"Wally? Everything okay in there?"

Wallflower nearly jumped out of her skin when Sunset's voice called out from the living room.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine!" she said, definitely a little too loudly. "Just got distracted! I'll be there in a sec!"

Just got distracted. A half-truth hiding a disgusting lie. Exactly the kind of heartless manipulation Wallflower had loved to pretend she wasn't capable of anymore.

With all the graceless speed she could muster, Wallflower closed the ring box and tucked it back beneath the dresser before stuffing the removed drawer with as many unfolded clothes as she could and jamming it back into place. Her transgressions hidden, she took a series of deep, shaky breaths, stared bitterly at her scars for just long enough to be sure she was grounded back in the present, then stood and put on her best neutral expression.

This was going to be a really long night.

The cluttered greenhouse tucked away behind the visitor's center at Skyland Gardens had long been Wallflower's favorite place to retreat whenever she needed peace and quiet. Even before she'd been hired as an assistant landscaper by the residential clinic, she had fallen in love with the place after being one of only a few patients who took an interest in horticulture as part of her "expressive" therapies.

The first few weeks she'd spent at Skyland were a dissociative nightmare—or so she'd felt at the time. In the span of less than a month, she'd gone from being homeless and starving, to being dragged into a safe home by Sunset, only for Sunset to then register her at some clinic she'd never heard of to be treated for a laundry list of mental health diagnoses she'd never known she had. Everything had happened so fast, a whirlwind of changes ostensibly being made for her own good, and all of it had left Wallflower too dazed and terrified to engage with anything other than the few hours a week she'd been allowed to come to the greenhouse and just breathe.

Today, so many years after completing her treatment, Wallflower sat at a raised table beside the greenhouse's door. Magnolia, the clinic's horticultural therapist and Wallflower's supervisor, was out for the week and had left a list of things for Wallflower to take care of before she got back. It was nothing too monumental, just the usual assortment of tasks: take care of the potted plants inside the various buildings around the clinic's campus, sweep the greenhouse, make sure the various projects left behind by clients were in good order, tend to the clinic's titular gardens that lined the walkways around campus…

All had been finished in short order, leaving Wallflower with nothing left to do but sit here and think. And, as much as she wished otherwise, there was only one thing her mind would let her think about right now.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that ring, and every time she did, her heart would flutter and her stomach would tie itself in violent knots. In a matter of months, weeks, maybe days, Sunset was going to lock eyes with her, get down on one knee and ask something that Wallflower could never in a million years say no to. Spending the rest of her life with Sunset was the best, most beautiful thing she could ever wish for—but this wasn't about her.

If Sunset asked Wallflower to marry her, she'd be making a mistake that would eventually destroy her. That much was certain, Wallflower knew. No amount of therapy and patience and lying to herself could change what she was deep down—a burden. Sure, Sunset could handle that weight now, so effortlessly even that neither of them felt it. But given enough time, she'd slip up, and the weight Sunset had to carry would grow.

It might start small, like feeling unable to do as much housework. Maybe it would be worse, like losing her job or relapsing. Knowing herself, Wallflower couldn't count out the possibility of just waking up on the wrong side of the bed and trying to off herself again. Whatever happened, however big or however small, it would make things harder for Sunset. She'd fight and struggle and torture herself to carry Wallflower's baggage, and maybe they'd even reach some sense of stability afterwards, but that just meant the whole thing would play out over again.

Sooner or later, it would be too much, but even then Sunset wouldn't give up on her. Wallflower knew Sunset better than anyone else, and what she knew terrified her—Sunset would sooner destroy herself trying to keep Wallflower afloat than let go of the miserable burden of a partner dragging her down.

Wallflower couldn't let that happen. She couldn't let Sunset ruin her own life like that.

But she also couldn't say no.

Or rather, she didn't trust herself to say no. If it came down to it, and Sunset was kneeling in front of her right now and holding out that ring, Wallflower couldn't count on herself to make the choice that was best for Sunset. No, she'd definitely choose what was best for herself, selfish as she was, even if she knew it would end in disaster.

That made it simple, then. She had to end their relationship before Sunset popped the question.

But… that wasn't simple at all. The whole point of not letting Sunset marry a scarred, worthless time bomb was to prevent all the misery and pain that Sunset would suffer through were she to make Wallflower her wife. If Wallflower suddenly broke off their relationship after eight years of being together, she would inflict just as much agony on Sunset as she would by marrying her. The only difference would be Sunset's life falling apart now, as opposed to whenever Wallflower became too impossibly difficult to care for.

With a silent groan, Wallflower buried her head in her hands. No matter what she did, she would be destroying the woman she loved more than anything in this world. Marrying her would ruin her eventually, and breaking up with her would ruin her now.

Idiot. Stupid, thoughtless, arrogant idiot. She never should've taken Sunset's hand at the mall that day. She never should've let herself fall in love with Sunset. She never should've let Sunset fall in love with her, with someone so inherently destructive to everyone and everything around her. She never should have—should have…

That was it. That was it.

If she broke up with Sunset, Sunset would be devastated. But if Wallflower could get Sunset to break up with her…

It would hurt. Of course it would hurt. But if it was Sunset's choice, even if it was a difficult one, it would be so much easier to come back from. It may take Sunset a while to get back on her feet, but eventually she would, especially without Wallflower weighing her down. As for what would happen to Wallflower afterwards, well…

Wallflower frowned and rubbed at her sleeve. That wasn't important right now.

That was it, then. She had to get Sunset to break up with her.

How was she supposed to get Sunset to break up with her…?

Sunset sucked at hiding her feelings, at least from Wallflower. It was one of the many things that made Wallflower fall in love with her in the first place—she never had to wonder what Sunset thought of her, because Sunset's feelings for Wallflower were spelled out in every aspect of their relationship, plain as day.

Sunset didn't just love Wallflower. She was hopelessly in love with Wallflower. Sunset Shimmer loved her more than any sane person should love anything, and now Wallflower was supposed to find a way to… to what, make Sunset love her less? Fall out of love with her? Hate her, even?

The only obvious option that came to mind would be being unfaithful, but that was off the table for too many reasons to count. Of course it would destroy Sunset, which was exactly what Wallflower was trying to avoid. That was saying nothing of how to even go about it. Wallflower didn't have eyes for anyone but Sunset, and the thought of being with anyone else, emotionally or physically, made her sick to her stomach.

She could relapse, try to make Sunset disgusted or fed up with her. Lord knows she wanted to, even more than the usual hazy background noise of distant urges that followed her day after day. Even if she did, though, wouldn't it just have the opposite effect? Wallflower had been clean for almost the entirety of their relationship, but even when she had relapsed early on, Sunset hadn't reacted negatively. If anything, she had responded by going all-in on making sure Wallflower knew how much she was still loved and supported and… and...

Wallflower blinked, tears stinging her eyes.

How the fuck was she supposed to get Sunset to break up with her?!

A whimper escaped her lips as she crossed her arms on the table and buried her head in them. Why did she even do that? Why make that sound, why curl up in a ball? No one else was here, no one else was watching. No one to see her cry, to watch her squirm, yet here she was, going through the motions as if trying to sap pity from all the nonexistent onlookers. As she choked on a sob, Wallflower heard her mother's voice echo in her head, reminding her how much of an embarrassment she was. What would Sunset think of her if she could see her now?

Wiping her eyes, Wallflower sat up, trying somewhat in vain to steady her breathing. She couldn't fall apart like this. She had to keep it together and figure this out, for Sunset's sake, but… she wasn't going to figure it out right now.

As she settled into that uneasy realization, Wallflower glanced around the greenhouse in search of anything to work on—anything to give her a distraction. For now, the best she could do was try not to think about it.

The rest of Wallflower's shift at the clinic was a blur, as were the subsequent bus ride and walk back home.

As soon as she was inside, the first thing she did was call her therapist's office to cancel her appointments for the month. Her regular sessions had been nothing but a formality for years now, with a typical appointment being nothing more than a cursory recounting of whatever had happened since her last visit. All in all, wholly unnecessary. Besides, finding that ring had thoroughly destroyed the thin facade of stability and routine Wallflower had clung to for the past few years, so what was one more little change in plans?

Once she had changed out of her work clothes and settled on the couch, she decided to take advantage of the fact that Sunset wouldn't be off work until late, again. Wallflower settled on the couch, intent on figuring out exactly what she needed to do next. Hunger gnawed at her focus—she hadn't eaten anything all day—but that wasn't a big deal. Even though Wallflower no longer lived on the streets, ignoring her stomach's pleas was a skill that never really went away.

If Wallflower hadn't found that stupid little box, she would have been counting the minutes, eagerly awaiting Sunset's return home. She would have been happily tidying up the apartment before cooking a wonderful meal for the two of them to enjoy later. Things would have been simple and joyous and carefree, she and Sunset living and loving day-to-day.

But she had found it. She had found it and, sad as it was to admit, her finding it was for the best. If she hadn't, then Sunset's proposal would've come as a complete surprise, if only because Wallflower was too rock-stupid to realize that she'd somehow fooled Sunset into wanting to spend the rest of her life with her. In the heat of the moment, she doubtlessly would've said yes, dooming the woman she loved to watch her life fall apart as her bride-to-be inevitably self-destructed in the years that followed, taking Sunset down with her.

No, finding that ring was for the best. Shattering the lie she'd been living for all this time, the lie that she was somehow better than the girl who'd almost thrown herself off a parking deck all those years ago, was for the best. Now she at least had a chance to make things right, to make Sunset see how ugly Wallflower still was on the inside. And when Sunset finally saw things as they were, she'd leave for a better partner and a brighter future, and Wallflower could…

Her expression stiffened. She'd figure that out later. For now, she might as well get on with what she needed to do.

"...Okay," Wallflower thought aloud, letting go of a breath she'd been holding all day. It was time to set some ground rules. Really think this through.

The end goal was obviously getting Sunset to break up with her, but guiding Sunset to that decision had to be done carefully. The last thing Wallflower wanted was for Sunset to walk away from their relationship feeling the past eight years of life and love were all for nothing. Even now, Wallflower couldn't deny that they'd been the best years of their lives, and it was of utmost importance that she didn't rob Sunset of those happy memories.

A scowl darkened Wallflower's face. No, she would never hurt Sunset like that again. She would never hurt Sunset again at all. That meant making sure Sunset left her on good terms, but also without looking back.

It was all about making Sunset realize that she deserved so much better than Wallflower.

Now Wallflower just needed a way to make Sunset see that truth that didn't involve making Sunset resent her for the rest of her life. Letting loose the absolute wreck she was beneath the surface would definitely be too much, but she could start with subtle hints at it. Maybe a depressing sigh here and there, or closing herself off more often. If she acted more and more like the pouty brat Wallflower knew herself to be, then eventually, Sunset would surely understand—

No, no, no! There was no time for that! Sunset hadn't bought that ring on a whim—if she'd already brought it home, that meant she was planning on asking Wallflower to marry her soon. Hell, as far as Wallflower knew, Sunset might be down on one knee by the end of the week, or even tonight. No, whatever Wallflower came up with had to at the very least put some doubt in Sunset's mind, if only to buy Wallflower some more time. That meant no subtlety, at least not to start with.

Wallflower grabbed a pillow and hugged it as tightly as she could. The impossible difficulty of what she needed to do was finally setting in, and all she could do in the face of it was curl up in a ball and cry.

Because that's who she was, right? Wallflower Blush, the useless roadblock to other people's happiness, balling up and crying to herself because she couldn't stand the thought of pushing away the best thing that had ever happened to her. Sunset was so perfect, so bright—she was everything Wallflower could ever need and so much more. She was always patient, always kind, always charming and loving and thoughtful… How could Wallflower ever hope to dim that beautiful smile, even if it meant saving Sunset from a life married to the human embodiment of weakness and mediocrity?

That's why this was necessary, though—this was the only way she could do better. Only by stepping out of the way, by shepherding Sunset towards a future made so much brighter by Wallflower's absence from it, could Wallflower actually do some good in the world. This was her one chance to do something worthwhile with her stupid life, and what? She couldn't do it because it made her sad?

The tears on Wallflower's cheeks dried as she sat up and stared at her sleeve.

Stupid, selfish little girl. Disgusting, disfigured freak with hair like a rat's nest and an ugly face to match. Miserable, pitiful parasite, acting all sad and sorry because she couldn't work up the will to do the right thing for once. Taking advantage of someone who loved her just by existing, siphoning support and resources from someone who could actually earn them. Always needy, always helpless, always acting without a single care in the world for the wellbeing of the only person who was trying to take care of her, if only she'd sit down and shut up and know your fucking place you thoughtless—

All at once, the echoing voice in Wallflower's head was silenced. She blinked, then stood.

Thoughtless. She used to be so thoughtless. Not cruel, just… unaware. Doing what she wanted, regardless of anyone else's needs. Nowadays she tried so, so hard to be mindful of the needs of others so as not to accidentally ignore them, but that was a learned skill—something she could all too easily walk back.

If she was too thoughtless, if she ignored Sunset's wants and needs in favor of her own, then surely Sunset would come to see that Wallflower wasn't worth marrying after all.

Chapter 3 — Dream Girl Evil

The sound of Sunset's key in the door shook Wallflower awake.

Within moments, she scrambled to sit up, rubbing the last bits of sleep from her eyes. The nap hadn't been intentional, unlike several other "surprises" that Sunset would soon see, but it would help her cause regardless. In any case, the Wallflower of today took that little snooze as a purely selfish choice in contrast to whatever pre-ring Wallflower would have done.

Just as the world stopped being fuzzy, Sunset slammed the door open. She dragged herself inside, work boots slung by their laces over one shoulder, both her bags over the other. Somehow, she seemed even more exhausted today than she had the previous evening.

Rather than rush to grab one of the bags, Wallflower launched herself straight at her wobbly girlfriend. "You're home! Finally!" Then, to complete the perfect picture of a selfish, whiny little brat, Wallflower buried her face in Sunset's shoulder and faked some tears. "I missed you so much! Why were you gone so late?" More feigned sniffles followed. "Didn't you know I'd be missing you?"

Hidden from Sunset's gaze, Wallflower felt a resigned acceptance settle over her. Now that she had her hands on Sunset, she wasn't going to let her get a moment to herself. After all, the only thing worse than a thoughtless girlfriend was a thoughtless, clingy girlfriend.

In response, Sunset only straightened up, not saying a word. Wallflower remained steadfast, her hands gripping tightly at Sunset's shoulder. Taking this as a sign Sunset was annoyed, she decided to dial it up a notch. "You, me, couch, right now! I've been waiting on cuddles all day and—!"

The heavy thump of boots and bags hitting the floor startled Wallflower. The sudden sensation of two strong arms sweeping her into a bridal carry—of all things—and ferrying her over to the couch completely silenced her. For a moment—just a moment—all of Wallflower's intentions were interrupted by a gay hiccup in her brain brought on by one thought rising above all others.

Oh my God she can carry me that's so hot.

The wonderful image of Sunset's smiling face and captivating eyes as Wallflower crawled on top of her, settling into a close cuddle on the couch, brought the gears in Wallflower's scheming brain to a screeching halt.

"Mmmm, I missed you too, baby." After giving her a swift kiss, Sunset pulled Wallflower's face into her chest. "I know I've been working late a lot this past month, but I promise it'll be worth it."

From between Sunset's breasts, Wallflower abruptly remembered what she had been thinking about literally up until this moment.

Oh, yeah. Great.

"W-well, um…" After shifting to a less distracting position, Wallflower looked up at Sunset's weary smile. "You have to get up at six, right?"

Sunset sighed. "Yeah, I know it's early."

"And what time is it now?"

"Almost eleven. Honestly, we should probably start getting ready for bed soon and—"

"No!" Again clinging, literally, to Sunset's arm, Wallflower put on a bratty pout. "Not yet! I just got comfy."

"Hmm, I dunno…" The smile on Sunset's face shifted into a telltale smirk that made Wallflower's cheeks burn. "Seems like you were pretty comfy a few seconds ago, right here." With that, she shifted so that Wallflower's face was right back in her chest again.

"Uh—um—uh…" A flurry of stutters escaped Wallflower's lips. This was so not fair. She struggled again to think of her next move, but found herself lost in a sea of warmth and softness. Way too much softness. "F-five more minutes?"

Holding her tight, Sunset nuzzled the top of her head. "Honey, I'd let you stay there all day if I could. Walk around with you clinging to me like some kind of boob gremlin."

"Um… Ten more minutes?"

Sunset's happy sigh enveloped Wallflower in even more warmth. "Deal."

Although she could have bargained for longer, wasting even more of Sunset's time—that was her only intention, of course, sticking to the plan—Wallflower decided to leave it at that. Either way, she had more tricks up her sleeve; Sunset wasn't going to get the rest she needed after a long day at work this time. No way, no how.

"S-so, um…" This was much more difficult than Wallflower had expected, but she pressed on. "I fell asleep after having some leftovers and didn't make dinner."

It was quiet for a moment, Wallflower noticeably forgoing her usual string of apologies in a situation like this. Before, she would offer to make Sunset something quick or run to a fast food joint. Now? Sunset would just have to make due with her thoughtless girlfriend not even bothering to whip up a sandwich.

"That's okay, Wally. The boss got pizza for everyone working tonight, so I wouldn't have had anything anyway." With a kiss to her cheek, Sunset added, "I saved a couple slices for you in my lunchbox."

"...Pepperoni?" Wallflower hoped.

Wait. Not important.

Mentally chastising herself, Wallflower nevertheless couldn't help but feel a little spark of joy when Sunset answered, "Of course!"

Dammit. Why did Sunset have to be so perfect?

Holding back a sigh, Wallflower closed her eyes. Might as well enjoy these last few minutes before they had to start getting ready for bed.

However… Just because they had to go to bed didn't mean they had to go to sleep.

Though Sunset was clearly happy to be home, Wallflower could only imagine how much she wanted to just crawl under the blankets and catch up on as much sleep as possible. Wouldn't it be terrible if Wallflower kept needling her for even more attention? She'd keep Sunset on the cusp of slumber, never allowing her to slip away, dooming her to a scant few useless hours of sleep. Yawning loudly, tossing and turning, yapping away about things no one cared about. Clinging to Sunset and ruining her sleep because Wallflower stupidly took a nap in the middle of the day despite having done nothing but a shift half as long as Sunset's followed by a lot of pouting and flopping. And now that she couldn't fall asleep because of her own bad decisions, she just had to make that Sunset's problem.

Mentally and physically drained, Sunset would doubtlessly take note of what a selfish, thoughtless, entitled bitch her girlfriend was for keeping her up all night, after not making her dinner and demanding Sunset pay attention to her the literal second she walked through the door. With any luck, Sunset might even ask that they start sleeping separately after tonight, which would only hasten the downfall of this unequal union and finally free Sunset of the useless parasite—

"Ten minutes is up, babe. Time to get ready for bed."

Putting on a frown and a resigned huff, Wallflower got off the couch and followed after Sunset. Though she fell into the familiar steps of getting ready for bed, Wallflower did so with little enthusiasm. The plan at the forefront of her mind, she breezed through getting into her pajamas, taking her meds, and brushing her teeth before joining Sunset in bed.

"Alright, let's—" Sunset let out a heavy yawn— "turn off the light, okay?" She glanced over at Wallflower, who reluctantly leaned up to do so.

Once the light was off, Wallflower was instantly at Sunset's side for another bout of clinginess. "I wanna cuddle," she whined, using both hands to grab at Sunset's arm. "I'm not tired yet, and I don't know why."

"Didn't you take that nap?"

"Maybe," Wallflower grumbled.

There. Sunset surely had to notice how ridiculous Wallflower was being. How she was making her self-inflicted inconvenience into Sunset's problem, despite Sunset herself being exhausted. Wallflower could already hear the couch calling to her once Sunset banished her to it.

The couch's call was quickly silenced when Sunset simply pulled Wallflower closer. "Okay, sweetheart, we can still cuddle." Another yawn punctuated her movements as Sunset embraced her, leading Wallflower once again to lay against Sunset's chest. Between the comforting cushion below her, and the sensation of Sunset's strong arms around her, so safe and warm...

Wallflower's eyelids grew heavy as she forced out an involuntary yawn.

Shit.

"Um—" Wallflower's brain briefly short-circuited before seizing upon a distraction—"s-so my day was really hard. My supervisor wasn't there, uh, and she left me a note for all this stuff I had to do—"

"Uh-huh," Sunset murmured, lazily tracing circles over Wallflower's back with one hand.

That had no right to feel as nice as it did. Nice and safe and comforting—all the things her body cried out for whenever anxiety took hold.

Focus, dammit. "A-and it wasn't super boring or anything, and it wasn't that much, but it felt like it was a lot? Like, you know when you don't have a lot to do, but it feels like a lot to do, because it's the only thing between you and not having anything to do, and it's hard to get started on it, and you know it's not hard, but you psych yourself out and think it's gonna be really hard, and—"

With a dreamy sigh, Sunset replied, "I know what you mean, baby."

"Well, I know you know what I mean, 'cause of course you know what I mean, but… Um…" As she trailed off, Wallflower snuggled into Sunset's chest. Sunset was so, so soft and impossibly comfy. The best pillow Wallflower could ever ask for. "Um… yeah… uh…"

Now Sunset's fingers were running through her hair. "What's that, sweetie?"

"...You're so warm… and…" The last coherent thought Wallflower had before slipping beneath the veil of sleep tumbled past her lips. "Soft… and… boob…"

Sunset hugged her even closer. "You're soft and boob too, sweetie."

Rather than be awakened by stomping footsteps, noisy traffic, or the rumble of her own empty stomach, Wallflower found her eyes pried open by a much more pleasant surprise. The featherlight touch of lips on her forehead, accompanied by a warm, safe presence, brought the world back into view.

"Hey, sleepy girl."

Hazily, Wallflower realized Sunset was holding her hand. "Mmm," was all she could muster in response, reality still feeling distant and difficult.

"I don't know if you remember, but we fell asleep cuddling last night," Sunset whispered, a bright smile on her lips. "We haven't done that in a while—it was wonderful. I slept so well, I had such nice dreams…" Sunset gently squeezed her hand. "I'm so glad you thought of doing that, hon. Thank you."

Somehow, these nice words from a beautiful girl sounded… wrong. Wasn't Wallflower supposed to do something last night? Better just mumble another "Mmmm," for now, to be safe.

Sunset kissed her cheek, then squeezed her hand again. "I made some extra eggs with my breakfast and put them in the fridge, just for you. You can microwave them whenever you get up, okay? No rush, sleep as much as you want." After one last kiss, this one a sweet peck to her lips, Sunset added, "I love you, Wally. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Muh-huh, love…" Wallflower rubbed at her eyes. "You… mmm…"

The bedroom door closed, soon followed by the front door. The combined sounds in succession made Wallflower bolt upright in bed.

It took a moment, but Wallflower's stupid, sleepy brain finally put the pieces together and remembered what she had been trying to accomplish.

"...Fuck," she muttered, before falling back against the pillows and promptly passing out again.

The rest of Sunset's work week passed by with Wallflower making little, arguably zero, progress on the persuasion front.

Between Wallflower's other work shifts, she did her best to do as much nothing as she could. No major cleaning, no picture-perfect meals, no going out of her way to preemptively do whatever she could to brighten Sunset's day. While she didn't become a slob overnight and refuse to lift a finger, she did her best to behave more like the useless burden she knew herself to be. She did this even as Sunset's late nights and long hours continued.

If she was being honest with herself, slacking off so much wasn't even difficult. Now that she'd stopped lying to herself about being better than she truly was, she didn't have the energy to stay on top of her usual tasks anyway.

With the exception of one evening where Sunset hung out with Rarity after classes, Sunset never got home before nine o'clock. And yet, despite all of Wallflower's efforts, Sunset didn't seem bothered in the least.

By the time the weekend rolled around, Wallflower was scrambling for a new plan. Although Sunset hadn't surprised her with a one-kneed offer she couldn't refuse yet, the clock was working against her. Each day that passed without Sunset so much as getting frustrated with her was a day closer to Sunset inadvertently ruining her own life. It was time to try something a bit different.

On Saturday morning, Sunset suggested they go to the mall while they were having breakfast. Eager to make an impact, especially in public, Wallflower immediately knew what her next step would be.

"Sure, whatever," Wallflower replied with a half-hearted shrug, shoving a syrupy bite of pancake into her mouth. "What do you want to do at the mall?"

"Hmm, nothing serious." Chewing a bite thoughtfully, Sunset offered a shrug of her own. "We just haven't been doing much this week other than going to work or school and coming home, y'know? I think it would be good for us to get out. Do a little shopping, get some lunch at the food court, maybe catch a movie…"

"So… Like a date?"

From across the table, Sunset entwined her fingers in Wallflower's own. "Something like that," she said, smiling.

Ice settled into Wallflower's stomach. She'd only just started her breakfast, and already her appetite was ruined. A date? Surely, Sunset wasn't planning on… At the mall, of all places?

Plate in hand, Sunset stood up from the table. "I'm gonna go get ready." She left her dishes in the sink before heading into the bedroom.

Frozen in her seat, Wallflower tried to focus on her breathing. "Oh, okay… I'll be, um, right behind you! I'm just gonna finish up," she called after her. As soon as she was alone, Wallflower pushed the rest of her pancakes into the trash and tossed her plate in the sink.

Think. Wallflower almost smacked her stupid head as she racked her brain. Think, and think fast.

First things first, she needed to get back in the bedroom once Sunset was done getting ready and check under that dresser. Whether or not a certain tiny box was at the bottom of it dictated the rest of her day. If it was still there… Great, move forward with making a fool of herself at the mall. If not? Well… Wallflower wouldn't have to worry about feigning illness to convince Sunset to let them stay home, because she would be absolutely sick with anxiety.

Willing herself to try and stay calm, Wallflower took a deep breath as she stood up. At the very least, she needed to put on a happy face in front of Sunset. While she waited for her girlfriend to finish up in their bedroom, she gathered up the dishes and turned on the sink. In silence, she focused on soapy suds and scrubbing away syrup, while Sunset happily hummed a tune in the other room.

Just as she was setting the last dish on the mat to dry, Wallflower realized with a mental facepalm that she could have left the dishes in the sink to "soak". Her slacking was slipping again. Shaking her head, she vowed to pull out all the stops today—once she'd checked that dresser.

"Okay, all done!" Sunset called from the bedroom.

Purse over her shoulder, Sunset walked back into the kitchen, that same smile on her face. While she wasn't exactly dressed up, she didn't look bad. Not that Sunset could ever look bad. Not even in her dirty work uniform or a set of baggy pajamas. The plain black shirt paired with jeans and her usual leather jacket looked great on her, as anything always did, because Sunset was just too beautiful and perfect and—

Shaking away those thoughts, Wallflower muttered, "My turn," before rushing past her into the bedroom. After a quick glance over her shoulder to ensure Sunset wasn't nearby, she beelined to the dresser. Hands shaking, she yanked the bottom drawer open and peered into the darkness below.

The tiny box was still there.

Wallflower let out a withered sigh of relief, once again checking to make sure she was alone. She closed the drawer and moved over to her own dresser.

Rather than painstakingly select an outfit, maybe trying on several before settling on something that looked good enough, Wallflower just grabbed an oversized hoodie that she often slept in and a pair of wrinkled leggings. After a quick change and brushing her teeth—not even bothering with her hair—she returned to the kitchen.

Sunset looked her up and down, grinning. "Ooh, you look cute." She offered Wallflower her hand. "Ready to go?"

Letting Sunset take her grimy little hand, Wallflower replied, "Let's do it."

After meandering around the mall for a couple hours, poking around in stores without buying anything, Wallflower found herself sitting at a table in the food court. Across from her, Sunset was busy talking about everything that had occurred the past week in between texting friends and shoving greasy fries into her mouth. Determined to be a poor conversationalist, Wallflower mostly focused on her own lunch rather than her date, offering a smile and nod here and there where it seemed relevant.

"...Have you checked the group chat lately?"

"Mmm?" Wallflower slurped loudly at her soda. "Uh, no."

"Dash keeps going on about that stupid bus-jumping thing," Sunset said with a roll of her eyes. Gesturing to no one in particular, she waved a hand in disbelief. "I mean, c'mon! Is she really gonna line up twenty buses, jump them on a dirt bike, then dive into a pool of—of whatever flammable liquid, I dunno, I swear she changes it every time she brings this up!"

"Huh." Tilting her head at Sunset, Wallflower feigned interest before returning to her burger. Which was a monumental task, given how her eyes kept wandering all over Sunset, taking in just how beautiful she looked today.

Goddammit, why did Sunset have to be so pretty all the time? It made ignoring her basically impossible.

"I mean… Okay." Sunset slammed her empty soda cup down on the table. "Do I think Rainbow Dash can do it? Of course, she's Rainbow Dash. It's not that I doubt her, I mean—she could probably jump thirty buses! It's just… Could she talk about literally anything else? Ever?"

Geez, Sunset was even cuter when she was grumpy. A part of Wallflower wanted to poke the bear, just a little, to see her get all flustered.

"She'll probably finish with a triple backflip out of the pool of whatever—lava or something, I dunno! And then she's gonna dab. Because she always dabs!" Groaning, Sunset shook her head. "When did that become a thing with her, anyway? She's gotta be the last person on the planet still trying to keep that stupid fad going!"

"Sounds pretty lame," Wallflower agreed.

"I know, right?! It's like, super lame! Because everything she does has to be super, apparently." Sitting back in her chair, Sunset crossed her arms and sighed. "I mean, don't get me wrong. It's not like I wanna see her fail. Just… You know when someone is acting really dumb, but they don't seem to notice, and you wish something would happen that would make them realize it?"

Blinking, Wallflower broke away from observing just how great of a pose Sunset was making right now. For once, she was actually a little invested in the conversation. "Yeah…" She rested her cheek on her hand. "I know what you mean."

"Anyway…" After one more heavy sigh, Sunset's frown softened. "Thanks for listening to me ramble. How was your lunch?"

"It was fine." Wallflower shrugged. "What do you wanna do now?"

"Well, I'm finished with mine too, so how about we walk around a little more?" Sunset's smile grew. "Maybe check out a toy store, see what all the kids are into these days?"

For a split second, an image of a little red-haired girl flashed in Wallflower's mind. Acting quickly before any sense of longing could seize her, she stiffly rose from her chair. "S-sure, I think there's one downstairs, right? Maybe we could go there for a little while then—"

"Great!" Sunset clasped their hands together as she joined Wallflower's side. "I wonder if they have those, uhh… Those foam shooter things?"

"...Dart guns?"

"Dart guns!" Sunset's eyes lit up as she led Wallflower out of the food court and into the crowded hallways of the mall. "I saw a commercial for one of those once. I wonder if they're as cool as they look. Do you think they only sell them to people with kids? I'd love to…"

Sunset kept talking, but Wallflower's sense of hearing faded out as she followed closely behind. Her vision went with it, and again all she could see was that little girl's face, all she could feel was love for that bright smile, all she could think was how desperately she wanted to dedicate every day of her life to—

Wallflower shook her head, hard. Anything to get that face out of her head. It was all a lie anyway, it would never work out, she could never make it work out. Better to not let herself think about it.

As they waited in line for an escalator to the bottom floor, Sunset still prattling on and on about some dart gun she saw online once, a grim realization dawned on Wallflower.

If she followed Sunset into that toy store, surrounded by bright, shiny toys for little girls and promises of a future and family that Wallflower didn't deserve, she would lose her fucking mind.

She still hadn't found an opportunity to aggravate Sunset yet. Now was definitely as good a time as any—whatever it took to keep them away from that store.

Reality settled back in around Wallflower as the two of them reached the bottom of the escalator. The main floor of the mall was even more crowded than the upper ones, leaving them surrounded on all sides by people. Everyone was going about their business, weaving in and out of stores, chatting along the edges of the hallways and politely waiting in line for kiosks. A quick glance around the area showed Wallflower nearly a hundred people following every expected social norm… and just as many people to notice if Wallflower herself didn't.

With that in mind, she summoned every scrap of courage she had in her cowardly heart and stopped in place, tugging on Sunset's hand.

"Huh?" Sunset turned around. "What's up, Wally?" She peered over Wallflower's shoulder and added, "Maybe we should move over a bit, I think we're blocking—"

Before Sunset could finish her sentence, Wallflower grabbed her by the shoulders, leaned forward, and pressed their lips firmly together.

"Mmm-mmmph!" Sunset made a noise somewhere between being startled and pleasantly surprised. Wallflower felt Sunset's hands settle on her hips, just as surely as she felt the stares of all the mall patrons around them.

Eventually they had to part, if only so Wallflower could catch her breath. Her eyes drifted briefly, scanning for any awkward stares that may draw Sunset's ire, but she soon found her gaze locked squarely with her girlfriend's.

Sunset had such pretty eyes.

Just as Sunset opened her mouth to speak, Wallflower kissed her again, and this time Sunset reciprocated fiercely. Gosh, Sunset was such a good kisser, something she credited Wallflower for, even though Sunset had been Wallflower's first kiss, just as she had been Sunset's, both of them novices to love, yet everything always working out so perfectly because Sunset was just so perfect and she made Wallflower want to try her hardest to be better and… and...

Why was she kissing Sunset in the middle of a mall again?

Oh. Oh yeah. To make her uncomfortable.

Considering how much Sunset was getting into it, Wallflower's efforts didn't seem to be working very well. Maybe she should try something else—

"Mmm, W-Wally," Sunset breathed between kisses, "c'mon, this isn't fair."

—Or maybe she should stick to the plan and see it through.

"What's not fair?" Wallflower gave her best attempt at a clueless stare, only to lock lips with Sunset again the second Sunset tried to answer.

"Th-this!" Sunset managed to get the words out, her eyes darting around the crowded space. "Kissing me like this, here…"

Wallflower just blinked. "But I want kisses," she said.

At that, something in Sunset's expression shifted. Without a word, she turned on her heel, took Wallflower by the arm, and started dragging her towards the mall's exit.

Something heavy and bitter settled in Wallflower's chest when she realized the job was done.

Perfect.

It had taken a bit of effort, but Wallflower finally found where the red line was and brazenly crossed it like the thoughtless piece of human trash she had always been, even if Sunset had been blind to it until now.

Surely Sunset would cut their date short, take Wallflower home in a tense drive full of scoldings and exasperations, then finally reevaluate whether she truly wanted to spend the rest of her life married to someone so awful.

Surely she would see how incompatible Wallflower was with her. She would see that Wallflower was, at her core, a bad person for Sunset to spend her life with. Even if it took years for that immutable truth to finally claw its way to the surface, it would happen eventually unless Sunset walked away. And if she didn't, she would spend the rest of her life stuck married to a stupid, selfish, self-destructive idiot—

Before they were even halfway to the mall's exit, Sunset changed course and pulled Wallflower into a single-user restroom. As soon as they were inside, she locked the door, then spun around and closed in on Wallflower.

"So you want kisses, baby girl?" Sunset asked, her voice low and quiet.

Wait, what?

A familiar look settled in Sunset's eyes, those pretty blue eyes… Looking directly at Wallflower, trailing up and down, like she was the only girl in the world who mattered.

The storm clouds in her mind parted in an instant, blown away by all the fluttering butterflies in her tummy. Heat billowed between them, the tension thick and heavy with a desire that was now brimming just beneath the surface. Wallflower tried to reply, her throat dry and scratchy, everything simultaneously going a million miles a second and slower than molasses. Whatever meaningless words she'd intended to speak faded on her lips as the sheer magnitude of Sunset's presence evaporated every thought Wallflower had except one.

God damn it, she loved Sunset Shimmer so much.

When Sunset took another step towards her, her hands moved to Wallflower's hips. A tiny squeak escaped Wallflower's lips as Sunset lifted her off the ground again, this time by her rear, leaving Wallflower up against the wall with her legs wrapped around Sunset.

Oh.

If Sunset carrying her to the couch had caused a mental gay hiccup, this was more like a magic gay rainbow that stopped time entirely.

With a smug grin on her face, Sunset asked again, "Well? What do you wanna do, Wally? Kiss me?"

Wallflower did exactly that.

Throwing her arms around Sunset's neck, she pulled Sunset flush against her as she brought their lips together. Mind blank, heartbeat thundering in her chest, her entire world shrank to nothing but Sunset's lips against hers and Sunset's touch on her body as her girlfriend shifted to hold her up with one arm, freeing her other hand to explore.

Lost in Sunset's arms and kiss and touch, Wallflower couldn't even remember what had brought them to this moment, and she could not have cared less, either.

Nearly half an hour later, Wallflower stumbled out of the restroom, clinging to her girlfriend for balance. Sunset herself was a bit wobbly, and both of them wore giddy expressions as they touched and hugged and held each other in the way they always did after being together. Given that they had to do so while making their way to the car, it was a bit tricky for Wallflower to get all the post-love cuddles and comforts she wanted, but that hardly mattered.

A smile was glued to her face as they passed through the mall's exit doors into the brisk winter air. While the bit of surprise-restroom-lovemaking hadn't been something Wallflower expected to happen today, it was exactly what she needed. The gray, heavy fog of anxiety and discomfort that had followed her to the mall was gone entirely. It was like as soon as she stared into Sunset's eyes, so full of love and lust and magic, the rest of the world ceased to exist and it was just Sunset and her, right there in the moment, and nothing else mattered. Any worries and anxieties she'd had just melted away beneath a big gay rainbow of passion and joy, to the point where she couldn't even remember what had her so upset in the first place.

Having made it back to the car, Wallflower climbed into the passenger seat, though it took a bit of effort. She was a little sore, and she definitely needed a shower, but none of that could possibly detract from her mood. Sunset got behind the wheel and turned on the heat, Wallflower leaned over to rest on her shoulder, and both of them sighed happily.

All was right in the world. What had she even been worrying about before they'd—?

Wait…

An image of a ring flashed through her mind, and, all at once, the lie of stability came crashing down all around her. Hadn't she come to the mall with a plan in mind? Wasn't she trying to make Sunset have doubts about marrying her?!

And instead she… She…

Sunset glanced over and smiled. "You're so perfect, Wally," she said, the immense depth of love in her eyes as plain as day.

Oh.

…Shit.

This wasn't working.

The cellphone's screen blurred in front of Wallflower's eyes as her thumb flicked across it over and over. Colorful images flashed across the screen of one of her usual distraction pages, uselessly scrolling by. A collection of saved funny comics didn't work either. Even when Wallflower put on her headset and tried to drown out the world with one of her favorite podcasts, the thought still remained.

This wasn't working.

Wallflower set her cellphone down on the arm of the couch and sighed. She pulled her legs up and tucked herself against the cushions. She was alone in the living room, their empty takeout containers still on the coffee table in front of the couch. Sunset was doing something in the bedroom. Cleaning, probably, given that they'd both been putting off most of that all week. Which left Wallflower alone to her thoughts.

Their sudden romantic rendezvous at the mall had only served to make Sunset love her even more—which was kind of a miracle, honestly. Sunset had told Wallflower several times that she loved Wallflower as much as it was possible for anyone to love anything, yet Wallflower found a way to break that great gay ceiling. Sunset was positively glowing throughout the drive home. Hell, even before today, Wallflower's earlier attempts to put a wedge between Sunset and herself were worse than fruitless.

No, instead of making things worse, Wallflower went and made things better. This was the one time in her life that she was actually trying to screw things up, and suddenly she was a paragon of healthy relationships, all because she couldn't keep her hopelessly sapphic ass under control whenever her stupidly perfect and gorgeous girlfriend was being stupidly perfect and gorgeous.

Wallflower buried her face in her hands and let out a muffled groan. God, how could she be this incapable of doing right by the woman she loved more than life itself? What could she even do that wouldn't mess this up even more? How did she know Sunset wasn't about to come out of that bedroom with that little box in her hands? What if she—

"Uhm, W-Wally?"

Her heart hammering in her chest, Wallflower slowly looked up from her hands to see Sunset standing beside the couch. "Um, yeah? Wh-what's up?" She hated hearing the anxiety in her voice; Sunset would only probe further if she wasn't careful. She sat up straight and added in a bit more even tone, "Need some help with the cleaning or something?"

"Uh…" Taking a seat beside her, Sunset regarded Wallflower with a nervous glance. She fidgeted with her hands, one after the other, an obvious tell that only made Wallflower's stomach churn even further. "I was, well… I wanted to ask you something…"

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Wallflower managed to squeak out, "Yeah?"

"So, um…" The fidgeting intensified as Sunset bit her lip. "I—I was wondering if you would, uh…"

As Sunset stared anxiously at the floor, Wallflower gripped the arm of the couch so hard that her knuckles turned white.

"Would you be okay with having Princess Celestia over for dinner?" Sunset finished with a shaky breath.

While that wasn't the worst question Sunset could have ended on, Wallflower felt her eyes widen nonetheless. "From Equestria?"

"Yeah, so, she's kinda my mom—er, no, sorry, she's not my mom, but like, I never really had a mom and she's the closest thing I have to family." As soon as Sunset started to speak, her fidgeting resumed anew. "She kinda raised me, even if she didn't exactly know how, but, uhm… Anyway…"

As Sunset trailed off, Wallflower’s gaze fell to a red journal emblazoned with a fiery sun that was resting on her girlfriend’s lap. Only now noticing that Sunset had brought it with her, along with a pen tucked inside the pages, Wallflower did a double-take at the sight of it. She'd seen the magic journal before, of course, and knew that Sunset wrote every so often to the "other" Twilight in it. Could Sunset write to other people—ponies?—with it too? Had she been consulting the other Twilight, or even Celestia, about the ring, too?

While Sunset continued to speak, Wallflower had to mentally shake herself from falling down the spiral those questions would lead. Besides, Sunset's gaze was fixed on her; Wallflower needed to smile and nod before Sunset got too suspicious.

"—I know she did her best, and of course I'm really grateful, and, well… Things between her and I are still kinda shaky, I guess, but I dunno, I just…" Sunset's hand reached over for Wallflower's own, tracing circles over her palm. "It's really important to me that she meets you, y'know? And I guess she finally got some time off, since Twilight's running things over there now—the other Twilight, of course, uh, not that ours couldn't, heh… Anyway… So…"

The conversation finally seeming to circle towards an ending, Sunset paused for breath before holding both of Wallflower's hands in hers. "Anyway, I know she's not really my mom, but, uhm… Is it okay if she comes over next Saturday night? For dinner? The th-three of us, I mean?"

Looking at Sunset's apprehensive smile and wide, bright eyes brimming with hope, Wallflower couldn't bear to say no. Yet, she could read between the lines. The significance of Sunset inviting Celestia now, for the first time in all these years, to come and meet Wallflower was not lost on her. That realization made her heart stop cold for a split-second—until another kickstarted it again.

If Sunset was going to bring Celestia—the closest thing to family she'd ever had—to meet Wallflower in hopes of getting the Princess's blessing or approval…

Well, that was a perfect opportunity to show Sunset what a mismatch she had made, wasn't it? If Wallflower could make Celestia realize that Wallflower was nowhere near good enough for Sunset, leaving Sunset disappointed, even upset at Wallflower… That would make Sunset see things differently, far more than a few hours of lost sleep or some weird looks at the mall ever could.

The light touch just wasn't working. As much as she wanted to avoid deeply hurting Sunset, ruining her dinner with Celestia was a small price to pay to avoid ruining her entire life, which is exactly what would happen if she asked Wallflower to marry her.

Filled with a new avenue of determination, Wallflower gave Sunset's hands a squeeze, smiling as she looked into her eyes. "Go ahead and invite her."

Author's Note

Here's a cool secret: as a fun little project, Gay For Gadot actually wrote a side-story describing what happened while Sunset and Wally were in that mall restroom. It's called You've Got The Love and you can check it out on her stories page (18+ obviously)!

Chapter 4 — All This And Heaven Too

"Hon, do we have any saffron?!" Sunset shouted from the kitchen.

From her seat on the couch, Wallflower shouted back, "I don't know, sorry!" Then, without missing a beat, she resumed scrolling through her phone.

While Wallflower looked at memes, her panicked girlfriend cursed before rifling through the kitchen cupboards. The kitchen timer went off shortly afterwards, causing Sunset to screech, "Dammit, not yet!" before rushing back to the stove.

It was Saturday evening, and Princess Celestia was expected to arrive in a few hours. Getting here had been much easier for Wallflower now that she had a clear plan in mind. The fact that Sunset had insisted on completing the preparations for tonight's dinner—cleaning, shopping, and cooking a four-course meal—all by herself made things just that much easier. Wallflower didn't need to feel guilty when she was doing what Sunset wanted, right?

So, while Sunset had busied herself throughout the week deep-cleaning the apartment, buying a large variety of ingredients, and even redecorating a bit, Wallflower had done just the bare minimum. A couple of work shifts and simple tasks, but nothing else. Like she often did, Sunset wanted to do everything on her own. Wallflower just didn't stop her this time.

Today was no exception. Wallflower slept in until noon, spent most of the day on her phone, and while she did take a shower, she made sure to "forget" to use conditioner. Sure, her frizzy rat's nest of a hairstyle was somehow even frizzier than usual, but what did that matter? It wasn't like she was meeting the beloved ruler of an entire nation and species today—much less one that her girlfriend basically considered family.

The smell of something burning wafted into the living room. "What?! How is it already boiling?!" Sunset exclaimed, running across the kitchen again.

Wallflower simply shrugged to herself as she picked at a thread on her sweatpants. Though she had changed out of her pajamas after the shower—she wasn't that much of a disgusting pig—the baggy gray sweatpants and giant black hoodie didn't exactly scream "fancy dinner party."

The sound of Sunset shouting her name prompted Wallflower to get off the couch for the first time in several hours. As she walked into the kitchen, phone still in hand, she merely replied, "Yes?"

Wearing a sauce-stained apron and standing over a hot stovetop—which had three pots and pans cooking at once—Sunset looked over her shoulder. Sweat dripped down her forehead, her hair tied up in a messy bun that barely contained her long hair. "Could you set the table, please? I really can't leave the stove right now!"

"Okay." Wallflower moved to start doing so, but Sunset kept talking.

"And set it the—" Sunset stopped to rapidly stir a bubbling pot— "fancy way!"

Wallflower raised an eyebrow. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"You know, like… When you're at a fancy party and everyone gets multiple of each piece of silverware?" Sunset's voice took on an almost dreamlike tone as she continued, "I remember Princess Celestia would have these huge celebratory dinners at the castle several times a year, including at the Grand Galloping Gala, where everypony would have a fork for the appetizer, the salad, the garnishes, main course, dessert course… Then there was the soup spoon, stew spoon, dessert spoon… Two knives, one for butter, one for jam, and silk and cloth napkins at every setting…" She trailed off, not noticing some marinara sauce spilling over a pan. Instead, Sunset closed her eyes and sighed. "I always thought it was so frivolous and vain back then, but those events were really important to Celestia. She never missed one."

"Fancy dinner party… Got it." While Sunset stood lost in thought, her back against the oven, Wallflower walked over to the kitchen cupboard where they kept dishes and silverware.

After pulling out plates, silverware, and a roll of paper towels, Wallflower went ahead and "set the table". Her fanciest dining experiences being dates with Sunset, she did her best to approximate what would look fancy with what they had. Several spoons and forks for each setting, along with one butter knife and one sharper knife, arranged in a neat row on top of a paper towel. While it wasn't terrible, Celestia would definitely notice it wasn't the same as a state dinner with a bunch of pony ambassadors or whatever, and that's what counted.

"Okay, anything else?" Wallflower asked, her question tearing Sunset from her daydream.

"Oh, shit!" Spinning back around, Sunset quickly resumed wrangling whatever it was that she had screwed up next. "Uh! Sorry, hold on!" She poured several different spices into a pan before fiddling around with the stovetop temperatures.

Although Wallflower wasn't entirely certain what Sunset was making, she was pretty sure that if she was the one in the kitchen, there at least wouldn't be as much chaos. Most of the household cooking over the years had been done by Wallflower. It was a simple hobby that required a lot of focus, something immersive she did to keep the bad thoughts and bad memories in the past. While she was far from a great cook, she could at least avoid tearing her hair out most of the time. Beyond a few easy dishes, Sunset really didn't have the same knack for it—not that Wallflower minded.

Maybe Sunset would get better at cooking after Wallflower wasn't around to hold her back.

"Okay! Okay!" Taking a couple deep breaths, Sunset turned around to face her. "Crisis averted. I think. Garlic is supposed to turn brown, right?"

"Uhh… What does it smell like?"

"Umm…" Sunset took a whiff over her shoulder. Her face immediately scrunched up in disgust. "Uh… Oh no. Fuck!" Her head in her hands, Sunset looked over at Wallflower. "Well, I'm sure all the cheese and everything will just drown it out, r-right?"

"Umm…" As easy as it would be to just lie, Wallflower wasn't going to go as far as letting Sunset serve her maternal figure something that not even Pinkie Pie would eat. "Probably not, sorry."

Wide-eyed, Sunset silently turned back to the stove before slapping both hands to her face. "I fucked it up! I fucked it up!" Squeezing her eyes shut, she slumped against the oven and sank to the floor. "My mom's gonna be here in a few hours and I fucked up the dinner!"

Although Sunset ruining the dinner boded well for Wallflower's plans, actually seeing her react to it… Wallflower couldn't just stay silent. Getting down on the floor with her, Wallflower pulled Sunset into a hug. "Shhh, it's gonna be okay, sweetie. We'll figure it out."

Suddenly, Sunset's eyes went somehow wider. Bapping herself in the head a few times, Sunset exclaimed, sounding like she was on the verge of crying, "No, she's not my mom! She's not! Every time I get my hopes up, it never works out, and it's so unfair to expect that of her! My therapist keeps telling me I shouldn't expect things to change, but do I ever listen?! No! Because I never listen, and—"

"Hey, hey." Wallflower spoke quietly, rubbing Sunset's back as she held her close. "Take a deep breath, okay, baby?" She pulled Sunset into a deeper embrace as her girlfriend started to cry, tears falling in between the sounds of sauce splattering and one of the pots boiling over.

For a few minutes, the two sat on the floor of the ruined kitchen. Wallflower holding Sunset close, Sunset gradually calming down.

Once Sunset was merely sniffling instead of sobbing, Wallflower broke the silence. "How about we just order pizza instead? What else did you have planned for dinner?"

"W-well…" Sunset rubbed at her eyes. "I already made the salad, it's in the fridge. And I picked up the dessert yesterday on the way home from work. Some chocolate truffles from that place in the city you like."

"Then all we'll have to do is order some pizza once she gets here." Wallflower squeezed Sunset's hand. "Easy peasy."

"Yeah… You're right." Sunset squeezed her hand back. "Although… I do need to pick up some daffodils from the flower shop."

"Oh, as a centerpiece for the table?"

"No…" Briefly looking away, Sunset's cheeks reddened as she answered quietly, "They're, um, the appetizer."

Wallflower blinked. "Oh."

"They're her favorite," Sunset said. Still stroking Wallflower's hand, she looked around the messy kitchen. "Um, actually, could you go get the flowers while I clean all of this up?"

"Of course, hon." Instinctively, Wallflower leaned in to kiss Sunset before standing up. "Anything else?"

"No, that's okay." Sunset rose to her feet in turn, then reached for Wallflower's hand again. "Thank you for taking care of everything, babe," she said before kissing the back of Wallflower's hand.

At her words, Wallflower's brain almost hiccupped. "What do you mean? I haven't done anything."

Sunset wrapped her arms around Wallflower's waist, pulling her close. "You're always there for me when I need you," Sunset said, smiling, before leaning in for another kiss.

Any remnants of the plan briefly faded from Wallflower's mind as she looked into Sunset's eyes. All that passed through her lovestruck brain was, Oh my God she's so warm and cute and smells so good I love her so much.

After they parted, Sunset started on the cleaning. Wallflower grabbed her purse and slipped on some shoes. She was halfway downstairs to the car when the gay haze clouding her judgment finally parted with the cold winter wind.

"God dammit!" Wallflower facepalmed. "Why does this keep happening?!"

Disgusted with her own carelessness, Wallflower gave a heavy sigh before finishing the walk to the car. On the way to the flower shop, she resolved to actually stick to the plan once she returned home. At least Princess Celestia hadn't been around to witness Wallflower being a loving and supportive partner to Sunset. There was still time to set things right.

…If only she could stop herself from being so selfish this time.

The gentle chime of the doorbell heralded their guest's arrival. Wallflower sat upright, having just finished checking to be sure the little box and its little ring were both still beneath Sunset's dresser. It wasn't like she was expecting Sunset to pop the question while her mother was visiting, but it was better to be ensured than engaged.

"She's here!" Sunset's voice was soft-spoken and yet still so full of anxiety that she may as well have been screaming. "She's here! Okay, uhh—Wally, are you finished changing?"

"All set," Wallflower replied as she exited the bedroom clad in what could at best be called a stay-at-home-all-day outfit, consisting of a comfortable but unkempt combo of leggings and a pink sweater several sizes too large for Wallflower's tiny frame.

"You're wearing that?" Sunset gaped, looking up from the last of the candles she'd been lighting. "B-but, I… We…" She gestured wildly at her own outfit, a freshly ironed navy dress Rarity had gifted her the previous year. "What happened to 'fancy dinner party?!'" With a grumble and a shake of her head, she made her way to the door. "Whatever, fine! It'll have to do."

Wallflower watched as Sunset took several deep breaths, straightened up her posture, then opened the door.

Into their apartment stepped what Wallflower could only comprehend as her high school principal's really, really fancy doppelganger. Whereas the Celestia Wallflower was familiar with only ever wore bland pantsuits, the Celestia that had raised Sunset Shimmer looked like something out of a Renaissance painting. She wore a pearl-white dress with intricately woven threads of gold tracing throughout. From her long flowing hair to her strong upright stance, her very presence emanated power and authority. Even with the rather dim candlelight of the living room, the princess appeared to positively glow with divine radiance.

Wallflower steeled herself for what was to come. Time to make a fool out of herself in front of God.

"H-hello Your Majesty—I mean, Princess—er, Princess Celestia!" Sunset said, standing stiffly like a soldier at attention. "How was the, uhm, the trip?"

Before Celestia could even reply, Sunset's stammering voice cracked again. "Oh, I-I'm so sorry, come in, come in! I'll get out of your way, sorry, sorry…" She awkwardly shuffled away from the door, beckoning the princess inside. "Please, make yourself at home! I know it's not as ornate as the palace, b-but…"

As Sunset trailed off, Celestia entered and closed the door behind her. Her empyrean gaze passed over the room only once before settling squarely on Wallflower Blush—a scrawny, useless girl with an ill-fitting sweater and disastrous mess of unbrushed hair, whom Sunset must've already told the princess that she intended to marry. Celestia blinked once, then she approached her adoptee's bride-to-be with an unreadable expression upon her face.

"Greetings. You must be Sunset's partner." The princess spoke in neutral, measured tones, yet her voice still rang like an angelic chorus from Heaven itself. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Wallflower stared into the face of God, or the closest thing she'd ever get to seeing it. As a little girl, Wallflower had never doubted that Heaven and angels were real, happy to believe the many fables her mother read to her before bed every night. When she was slightly older, helplessly watching as her mother's drinking grew from a hobby to a habit, Wallflower had wondered why God wasn't keeping her safe from her mother's increasing anger and abuse. Once Wallflower became a teenager, constantly subjected to bouts of drunken screaming and withheld dinners and being locked in her room for entire days, she questioned if the divine protector spoken of in the hymns and verses even existed at all. It wasn't until after her suicide attempt, when her mother had escalated to constant violent outbursts and torments, that Wallflower's faith had been renewed. She'd prayed to God every night, silently wishing to die in her sleep and return to either her Creator in Heaven or the lifeless void that had been her nonexistence prior to her birth—either was better than the hell she lived in at the time.

In the years after, finally free from that hell, if not the traumas she still carried, Wallflower had settled on agnosticism. Given the lack of concrete evidence, it was most likely that God was just a made-up fairytale. A lie, a veil of false comfort offered to a little girl who was desperate for someone to give a single heavenly fuck about her. If God was real, though, and truly omnipotent as the scriptures claimed, then all the misery inflicted on her had been part of some cruel, twisted plan.

Suffice to say, Wallflower had something of an axe to grind with the divine.

Of course, Princess Celestia wasn't actually God. Not the God Wallflower had grown up hearing about, anyway. But based on how her attempts at parentage had left Sunset constantly afraid and uncomfortable around her, she probably wasn't much better.

So, when the Princess of the Sun extended her hand, Wallflower didn't take it. Instead she shrugged, gave a half-hearted wave, and said, "'Sup."

For the first time since Celestia had entered their apartment, she smiled. Her royal violet eyes beheld Wallflower for a moment longer before she turned to Sunset and said, "Oh, I like her."

Sunset, eyes wide and possibly twitching, looked back and forth between Wallflower and Celestia. After a few seconds, her face creaked into a broad, toothy smile and she clapped her hands together. "There's some appetizers on the table, feel free to help yourself, also Wally could you please order the pizza okay thank you sweetheart love you!" With that, she bolted into the kitchen, presumably to take a few—okay, maybe more than a few deep breaths.

As much as Wallflower's instincts urged her to tend to her anxious girlfriend, she couldn't give in to those feelings. Instead, and without so much as a word to her guest, Wallflower pulled out her phone and began filling out an online pizza order. Sunset had told her that Celestia was strictly vegetarian, just like Sunset used to be, meaning that if Wallflower really wanted to make this woman hate her, all she had to do was order their usual pepperoni pizza.

She frowned at the thought, then selected a plain cheese pizza. Even if Wallflower wasn't particularly fond of the person—pony…?—who left Sunset feeling unloved and unwanted for so long, she wasn't about to force Celestia to go hungry tonight. Nobody deserved that.

Once the order was placed, Wallflower looked up from her phone to see Celestia standing over the dining table, eyeing the daffodil bouquet Sunset had specially ordered for the evening. With a raised eyebrow, she asked, "Are human bodies even capable of digesting these flowers?"

Being what some may have politely called a "huge fucking nerd" when it came to knowledge about flowers, Wallflower was well aware that daffodils were extremely toxic to humans. Eating any part of the plant was asking for a bad time in the form of a majorly upset stomach. Hell, as far as Wallflower was aware, daffodils were even poisonous to horses and ponies—at least the ponies of this world. Maybe magical ponies from another dimension had sturdier digestive systems. Honestly, it was a small miracle that Sunset hadn't tried to eat one in all the time after she'd crossed over.

Celestia didn't know any of that, though. If Wallflower wanted to, she could tell her it was fine, then sit back and watch as Sunset's maternal figure spent the evening exploding out of both ends. Wallflower's assurance that the flowers were safe would surely be blamed, and Celestia would hold a special place of hatred in her heart for Wallflower, from now until the end of time. That was about as certain of a way to get Sunset to break up with her as Wallflower could possibly imagine.

It would be so easy. So easy to say yes. So easy to keep the truth to herself and then watch the fireworks.

It would also be cruel.

Wallflower knew a lot of things about herself. She knew she was remarkably unintelligent. She knew she was a waste of air. She knew she was weak-willed and hopelessly in love with Sunset Shimmer. She knew that if Sunset offered her that ring, she would say yes, and then her utter uselessness and self-destructive tendencies would ruin Sunset's life in the years that followed.

She also knew she had to get this right tonight. She had the perfect opportunity in front of her to do right by Sunset, to free her from the future shackles of being married to a lost cause.

…But she couldn't do it like this. She just couldn't.

"No, they're actually really toxic to humans," Wallflower said, the words of warning suddenly pouring out of her. "Honestly, I'd recommend you don't touch them at all. Skin contact with them can cause rashes. Sunset said they were your favorite, but I don't think she realized how dangerous they are in this world."

"Ah. I figured as much." Celestia nodded. "I appreciate the warning."

"Whatever." Wallflower shrugged. "You can eat them if you want, just don't expect me to clean up the mess." Letting the princess consume literal poison might be crossing a line, but she could still be dismissive and rude.

Celestia smirked again. It was honestly a little uncomfortable. "You're nothing like Sunset described," she said, her neutral tone indecipherable.

At that, Wallflower frowned. "In what regard?"

"She told me you might be a little shy when we first met," Celestia said. "It seems she was mistaken."

"Why would I be shy?" Wallflower fixed the princess with the best apathetic glare she could conjure. "You're not special or anything. What, am I supposed to get all nervous just because you're a magical sun goddess?" To really stick the disrespectful landing, Wallflower pulled out her phone and turned away. "As far as I can tell, you're as normal as the rest of us."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Celestia's expression shift. In soft, featherlight tones, she said, "I cannot even begin to remember the last time anyone spoke to me like that."

Perfect.

When Wallflower looked to confirm that the princess was scowling at her, she instead saw a smile that could only be described as… impressed—?

"Who wants some salad?!" Sunset barged back into the living room, speaking just a bit too loudly. She carried an overflowing bowl of salad to the dining table, unaware of the bits of lettuce and spinach sprinkling the floor along the way. "It's got carrots! Y-you like carrots, right?" She glanced anxiously at Celestia. "R-right…?"

"Carrots are lovely," Celestia said, taking her seat at the dining table. "Thank you, Sunset."

Sunset looked like she might burst into tears of joy as she sat in the chair adjacent to Celestia. After sliding in the chair across from the princess, Wallflower pushed the vase of daffodils to the unused corner of the table, then sat back in a lazy slouch.

"So, Wallflower." Ignoring the salad for now, Celestia leaned forward, steepling her fingers. "Tell me about yourself."

Before Wallflower could even formulate a thought, Sunset answered for her. "Oh, Wally's just great! She's really passionate about so many things and she works in a mental health clinic helping take care of the gardens so all the people there have nice things to look at while they're getting treatment and she can cook really well and she's really smart and, uhm, she… she—"

"That's a noble profession," Celestia said just as Sunset started to trail off. "What led you to such an interesting line of work?"

Wallflower gave her a deadpan glare. "I like plants."

Celestia nodded. "You must visit the palace gardens in Canterlot sometime. It is home to nearly ten thousand species of flowers, each with a grace and beauty all their own."

Ten thousand? Holy hell, that actually sounded amazing. Maybe Sunset could take her to—wait, no, focus.

"Uh-huh." Wallflower gave the bare minimum response before checking her phone. "Pizza's on the way."

"Oh good!" Sunset piped up again. "Pizza! Pizza is great! Have you had human pizza, Princess? I-I mean, I guess you haven't, uhm, sorry—"

"I have not. All the more reason to look forward to it," Celestia replied, before eyeing Wallflower again. "So, a mental health clinic, was it? What is it like?"

Wallflower's mind raced. Being rude clearly wasn't putting Celestia off at all—she needed to take things up a notch. "It's pretty nice," she said. "I was a patient there after Sunset found me."

At that, the princess's expression turned from curiosity to confusion. "Excuse me, you said she found you?"

"Yep." Wallflower nodded. "On the street, like a dirty, starving animal."

If Sunset had intended to intervene, Wallflower's last statement apparently left her quite literally stunned. She just stared, her eyes wide and her mouth a bit agape.

"I'm so sorry to hear that." Celestia's voice was more neutral than disturbed, a clear indicator that Wallflower hadn't turned up the trauma-dumping dial enough yet.

"Yeah, I was homeless for a few months after I wiped my mom's memories with the Memory Stone," Wallflower said. "Remember that thing? The thing I used to steal the memories of Sunset's friends and then nearly wiped Sunset's mind with?" Wallflower closed her eyes and yawned. "Ah, good times."

Sunset's eye twitched. Celestia just nodded thoughtfully.

"I remember," the princess said. "And I remember what Sunset told me about why you did what you did. She has long since forgiven you, as have I. All that's left now is for you to forgive yourself."

"Forgive myself?" So much for acting nonchalant—Wallflower couldn't help but laugh. "Forgive myself? After what I did? What, I'm supposed to get a free pass after doing such a horrible thing just because I was sad? Or because I hated myself? Or because my mommy was mean to me?"

Wallflower's rising voice only seemed to set Sunset deeper into her stupor. Her eyes glazed over as she stared blankly at the table, apparently entering a state of catatonia as her carefully laid dinner plans came crashing down around her.

Apparently ignoring all the parts of Wallflower's confession that mattered, Celestia asked, "How did your mother treat you?"

"Oh, y'know…" Wallflower could feel the last flimsy walls of her composure crumbling, but it didn't matter. If anything, causing a scene served her purposes perfectly. "Just normal mom stuff. Yelling at me, starving me, hitting me… One time she even tried to choke me to death!" With what must've been the world's most unconvincing smile, she added, "But don't worry, I'm totally over it."

"That's awful, I'm sorry you had to live through such horrible experiences," Celestia said, her voice betraying none of the discomfort Wallflower was after. "And, you did live through them. Even if you do not yet feel like you've fully recovered from what your mother did to you, you being here at all is a testament to your resilience. You didn't give up, and that's something to be proud of."

"Not for lack of trying," Wallflower mumbled.

"Hm?" Celestia raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, did Sunset not tell you?" Wallflower frowned. "I tried to kill myself when I was a kid."

Before Celestia could reply, there was a loud knock on the door.

"Pizza's here!" In an instant, Wallflower stood and made her way to the door as if she hadn't just revealed to her girlfriend's maternal figure that she was a ticking time-bomb. When she returned to the table with a large cheese pizza in tow, Celestia's unreadable expression was still unchanged—as was Sunset, who still looked completely checked out.

Wallflower sat back down and clasped her hands together. "Where was I? Oh right, trying to kill myself!" She nodded as she plated up her first slice of pizza. "Yep, I tried to throw myself off a building. That was right after my mom tried to kill me, actually—funny how that works out."

"I fail to see the humor in it," Celestia said. "What I do see is someone who faced true despair and survived, and who is brave enough to be open and honest about it." Her lips upturned to a slight smile—it made Wallflower want to cry and scream and throw up. "I have often wished for the kind of strength that rests in you."

Wallflower rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, I'm so impressive."

"I agree." Celestia nodded. "What's more, with the right support, you overcame many challenges and found happiness and purpose. It's fortunate that you and Sunset found each other."

That was hard to argue. Of course Sunset gave Wallflower happiness—all the happiness and joy in the world, in fact—but this wasn't about Wallflower's happiness! How could Celestia not see that—?

"Do you love her?"

"Of course I do!" Wallflower blurted out without thinking. "How could I not? She saved me, she's the best person I've ever met, she—she's perfect."

After a moment, Celestia muttered, "I see…" Her voice soon trailed off, her fingers steepled again as she looked between Sunset and Wallflower.

While her perfect girlfriend continued her best impression of a statue, looking off into space with a thousand-yard stare, Wallflower looked over at their guest. Still appearing deep in thought, Celestia remained silent as she seemed to consider the couple before her.

As the silence dragged on, the pensive look on Celestia's face made it clear to Wallflower that her efforts were—finally—starting to take root. Maybe her outburst of praise had drawn Celestia to compare her and Sunset? While Celestia had complimented Wallflower's "impressive" traits, she was almost certainly just doing so to be polite. Besides, compared to Sunset, Wallflower was truly insignificant; even as a child, Sunset had outclassed her. Surely, the princess must be thinking of that young prodigy and the amazing person she had grown up to be—and the useless little nobody sitting opposite of her, daring to think she deserved a place at this table.

The longer Celestia went without speaking, the more conflicted she appeared. When she finally did heave a sigh and look back at Wallflower, the latter found herself bracing for the inevitable dressing-down that would immediately follow.

That would certainly snap Sunset out of her stupor.

To Wallflower's surprise, however, Celestia simply said, "I love her too."

After another moment of hesitation, Celestia's melodious voice softened further as she continued, "But I was always unable to give her what she longed for. The way she spoke of you when she first told me about you…" The princess sighed. "You make her feel loved."

No… No, this couldn't be happening. This literally could not be happening. How could anyone learn how weak and damaged Wallflower was and still believe she was good for anyone? Wallflower had played nearly every card she had, and every single one had backfired spectacularly in the face of this hopelessly therapy-brained deity.

Celestia turned to Sunset, taking her hand. "I'm so proud of you."

"Wh-wha—huh?" Sunset jolted upright in her chair, finally coming back to reality. "Wait, Wally, did you—?"

"Would you believe," Celestia said, "that talking with Wallflower has been the first conversation I've had in years with someone willing to treat me like I was not defined by my title or status? It's been far too long since I've felt like I could just be myself without fear… and without impossible expectations to live up to." The princess took hold of Wallflower's hand as well, glancing between her and Sunset. "She really is perfect for you."

Sunset blinked, blinked again, then smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, she really is."

"Sunset, I…" Celestia's voice wavered for the first time since she'd arrived. "I'm so happy you've chosen this girl. You deserve someone who can make you feel like you're good enough."

Sunset's eyes watered. "Princess…"

"And her willingness to share her deepest struggles and regrets…" Celestia exhaled slowly, then continued. "She has shown me the courage to be vulnerable—to admit how much I hurt you."

Wallflower could only look on, frozen, as she accidentally made Sunset's dreams come true.

Celestia never looked away from Sunset as she spoke. "I was always so strict with you… I believed you would inherit my position, and all the duties and expectations that came with it. I suppose I thought I was preparing you by being so hard on you, by forcing you to feel all the pressures that I felt, but…" Tears trailed down the princess's cheeks as she took both of Sunset's hands in her own. "Instead I should have taught you that you never had to prove anything to me for me to love you," she said. "I-I am so sorry, Sunset. You were always good enough for me—good enough for anyone."

"Princess…" A tiny whimper left Sunset's lips. "P-Princess, I—"

"Shhhh…" Celestia pulled Sunset in, embracing her with all the love she'd never known how to show until now. "You never have to speak to me so formally. I'm not your princess."

Sunset's breath hitched, and suddenly she was sobbing in Celestia's arms. "M-mom… Mom! I-I love you, Mom!"

Hugging her daughter tight, Celestia sighed happily and said, "I love you too, Sunset. You'll always be my little girl, a-and I… I'm so happy for you, and…" Her voice cracked, and she started crying as well. "I love you, Sunset, I love you so much…"

Wallflower sat motionless, taking in the beautiful display of maternal reconciliation. Her heart soared as the girl she loved more than anything in the entire world was finally freed of the burdens of self-doubt that she'd carried all her life. Seeing Sunset so relieved, sobbing in her mother's embrace for what was likely the first time in her life, was a kind of joy and satisfaction Wallflower had never even dreamed of until that moment.

When Celestia held an arm out and pulled Wallflower into the hug, for a split second, Wallflower felt like she was really part of a loving family, and she began to tear up as well—until she remembered what she'd been trying to accomplish this evening.

Trying not to let her despondence at yet another failure show, Wallflower allowed herself to be part of the bittersweet embrace.

Sleep did not come easily for Wallflower that night.

In another life, she would have called the rest of that evening picture-perfect. After Sunset and Celestia let Wallflower go, their tearful hugs continuing between each other, she had made no further attempts to sully the moment. Eventually, the three of them finally ate, Wallflower mostly remaining silent while Sunset and the princess bonded over the joys of shared memories and cheese pizza.

When the night drew to a close, Celestia left with more teary hugs and tender confessions of love and joy, Sunset glowing all the while. Whatever irritation that Wallflower had mustered through her sloppy attire and rude behavior was immediately forgotten, and Sunset practically launched herself at her girlfriend the moment her mother left.

Engulfing Wallflower in a tight hug, Sunset literally couldn't stop thanking her. It wasn't until Wallflower slinked away with a lie about being tired that Sunset managed to let her go, and, even then, it was with one of the brightest smiles Wallflower had ever seen.

While Sunset cleaned up in the kitchen, singing along to a joyous playlist from her phone, Wallflower had gotten ready for bed and slipped beneath the covers. She pretended to be asleep when Sunset came to bed and laid down herself—the latter woman quickly falling into slumber with a happy sigh.

Once Sunset started snoring, Wallflower let herself roll onto her back and stare at the ceiling. Dead-eyed and despairing, she couldn't even bother to formulate a new plan. At this point, what else could she possibly try? Unless she wanted to totally shatter Sunset by doing something utterly despicable, like cheating or outright leaving without a word, there was nothing she could do.

All the things Wallflower hated about herself, all the obvious signs that she wasn't good enough for Sunset—and never would be—were apparently hidden beneath her own mediocrity and inability to commit to anything difficult. Saying yes to Sunset's proposal would be the easiest thing in the world; she would do it in a heartbeat. In a millisecond, without a second thought. Because she was selfish and short-sighted and too much of a useless parasite to stop herself from latching onto someone so much better than her. And when she finally remembered her place and tried to step aside, to enlighten Sunset to that unshakable truth, that Wallflower was unstable and unreliable and unpredictable, a foundation of sand that Sunset was so naively mistaking for a cornerstone… she couldn't even do that right.

No, instead Wallflower had made Sunset love her even more. Like bottling lightning, or holding a star, Wallflower had done something that should have been impossible.

Staring up at that empty ceiling, Wallflower felt her breath coming in a fast, trembling rhythm as she realized the position she was in. Sunset was her fiancée in all but name. Celestia knew it, Rarity knew it—hell, all of them probably knew it. Everyone but her. It had been so plainly obvious from the start. Sunset had been planning this for months, maybe years, and Wallflower, slow and stupid and stuck in the same old patterns of avoidance and escapism, was too late to do a damn thing about it.

If Wallflower said yes—and she would—they would be locked in. And when Wallflower inevitably failed as a wife, like she failed at being a girlfriend and a friend and a person at all, it would destroy Sunset.

In the darkness, Wallflower whimpered, her limbs twitching of their own accord. The roiling miasma in her mind grew stronger, mixing with the anxious terror clawing at her throat. Her breaths came louder and sharper as she rolled over from one side to the other, desperately trying to calm down, to stay in the present, to not think about it, don't think about it, never think about it, can't—

"W-Wally?"

Wallflower jumped, almost falling out of bed. In an instant, Sunset's arms were around her. Holding her. Loosely, but present, calm and practiced.

"Hey, I'm here," Sunset almost whispered, keeping her voice calm and quiet in the way that Wallflower hated how she recognized. "It's okay baby, I've got you. I've got you."

Sunset was on her side now, her chest against Wallflower's back as Wallflower futilely struggled to control her breathing. For a split second, Wallflower wanted to say something, anything—but she couldn't trust herself not to make things worse, even if she could have forced some words out between her panicked breaths and tremors. Instead, she pressed her head against the pillow, whimpering and shivering, as Sunset carefully held her in her arms.

Sunset's heartbeat was a little elevated, but still steady, as she continued, "I'm here, Wally. I'm here. It's gonna be okay." Wallflower felt her take a deep breath, no doubt in an effort to encourage her to do the same.

Despite how awful Wallflower was for doing so, she couldn't help but find some relief in those small gestures. The warmth of Sunset's touch. Her presence. The safety of knowing that Sunset would be there if something bad happened, like it had happened before, sometimes night after night. That Sunset would be there to take care of her in the morning.

That Sunset still loved her. That she was whispering so right now, and that all Wallflower could think about was how deeply and desperately she loved Sunset back.

In spite of what she knew was best, Wallflower whispered back through staggered breaths, "I love you too."

Somehow, whether minutes or hours later, Wallflower's breathing eventually slowed, and, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion, she slipped into unconsciousness.

When Wallflower woke up, she was alone.

As she sat up in bed, the events of the prior evening—and night—played through her mind. A slight spark of hope ignited in the hollow, dull ache in her chest. Even when Sunset woke up before her on her days off, she would usually stay in bed until Wallflower opened her eyes. Had Wallflower's efforts finally paid off? Did she forget about something awful she had said to Celestia last evening that Sunset was now just realizing? Was Sunset angry at Wallflower for waking her up in the middle of the night? Had Celestia maybe written to Sunset in the magic journal after returning home, confessing how she really felt about her daughter's partner?

There was no sense in just waiting around for answers. After a quick yawn and stretch, Wallflower checked her phone. No messages or voicemails, so Sunset hadn't taken off to go grab breakfast or something. In search of her, Wallflower got out of bed.

As Wallflower exited the bedroom, she soon realized that Sunset wasn't in the bathroom nearby, nor the living room at first glance. Wallflower walked into the living room to confirm, then called out into the kitchen. "Sunset? You in there?"

Though she'd hoped to be left with silence—Sunset leaving the apartment without telling her would definitely portend doom to their parasitic relationship—Wallflower wasn't so lucky. It took a few moments, but Sunset called back from the kitchen, her voice cracking.

"I-I'm—I'm in h-here!"

Was that… Sunset crying?

That same spark of hope and deep, frigid dread ignited again, flickering at the possibility. Maybe Wallflower had finally done something right in her worthless life.

As she entered the kitchen, she realized that Sunset had been in the middle of making breakfast before something interrupted her. A carton of eggs and half stick of butter were placed next to a pan on the stove. Two glasses of orange juice sat on the dining room table. Also seated there was Sunset Shimmer, tears running down her cheeks in rivers, her phone shaking in her grasp.

With a deep breath, Wallflower put on a neutral expression and walked over to the table. "Hon? What's wrong?" she asked, bracing herself for the explosive argument, dressing-down, and possible breakup that awaited her.

Looking up from her phone, Sunset sobbed, "Rainbow Dash is fucking dead!"

Chapter 5 — My Girl Builds Coffins

The highway curved and carved its way through the countryside, weaving towards a little chapel near the mountains. Wallflower piloted Sunset's sedan as they made their way to Rainbow Dash's funeral. Both hands on the steering wheel, her eyes laser-focused on the road, she drifted in and out of listening to Sunset as they drove.

"I told Dash she was being an idiot, over and over again!" Dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, Sunset shook her head and let out an exasperated groan. "Ever since high school, she's always had a chip on her shoulder, and when did she try to put it down? Never!"

"I know, hon." If it weren't for the road, Wallflower would've reached for Sunset's hand. It was hard to fight that instinct. "I'm so sorry," she said for what felt like the millionth time—hollow and empty and useless as always. Just like her.

"She didn't need to prove anything! Not to me, not to the girls, not to anyone! And…" Sunset pinched the bridge of her nose. "A-and now I have to go give her eulogy, all because she couldn't set aside her massive fucking ego and think of someone else for a change!"

The bitterness in Sunset's voice rang out, almost louder than her grief. In the week since Dash's death, Wallflower had heard Sunset speak about it in anger far more than any other emotion. Yet, beneath the tirades, Wallflower knew that her girlfriend missed and mourned her friend. Every time Sunset thought she ran out of tears, more somehow swelled from some wellspring deep within her, manifesting through another rant.

Every time, Wallflower was there to comfort her. As useless as it was—as she was—she wasn't going to let her girlfriend go through her grief alone. Wallflower might have been thoughtless and stupid, but she wasn't a monster.

That said, Wallflower had no idea what to do. Other than distant relatives she barely remembered, she had little experience with grief. Of all the things she'd mourned in the past, none of them had been a person. Years of isolation and rejection went hand-in-hand with that.

Were it not for her proximity to the rest of Sunset's friend group, she would barely consider Dash a friend at all. The loss was tragic, but Wallflower found that she couldn't feel much other than empathy for her grieving girlfriend, and she hated herself for not caring beyond that. Then again, it wasn't like she'd had much of a relationship with the deceased to begin with.

Like the others, Rainbow Dash had always made an effort to include Wallflower in their group ventures, cracking jokes and calling her "flower girl," but they otherwise had nothing in common. Except maybe for being hopelessly selfish, and being doomed to hurt Sunset in the long run.

For a moment, the couple in the car were quiet, other than Sunset sniffling and balling up tissues. While Wallflower tried to think of the best way to respond, she let her thoughts rise and fall with the road. Endless rows of trees that became taller and taller with every mile passed them by. The sky was a pristine blue, a rare clear day when winter was usually blanketing these horizons with snow.

From the corner of her eye, Wallflower saw Sunset reach for another tissue before slumping against the car door. Her eyes stared listlessly out the window, her hands trembling in her lap.

As much as Wallflower wanted to pull over and hold Sunset close, they had a funeral to get to. If it weren't for winding roads and time constraints, she would've given in to her endless desire for connection and touch right then and there.

There was no use fighting her inclinations anymore. All of Wallflower's efforts to do right by Sunset had failed. Whether it was because of her own selfish desires, or just sheer incompetence, the plan was a bust. The ring was coming, and there was nothing Wallflower could do to save the love of her life from a future chained to a worthless burden. Might as well indulge before she inevitably ruined Sunset's life completely.

And even if she couldn't hold Sunset's hand at the moment, Wallflower at least owed her some attempt at comfort, no matter how futile or meaningless.

Taking a deep breath, Wallflower looked in Sunset's direction with a gentle smile. "I'm really proud of you for agreeing to do the eulogy," she began. "I really mean that. I couldn't imagine how I would have reacted if I'd been asked."

In response, Sunset shrugged, then sniffled again. "Someone needed to do it. At least one of the seven of us."

"What about her parents?"

Another shrug. "Dunno. They're probably in shock." Sunset's tone grew quiet as she said, "They saw it, after all."

"Oh." Wallflower felt the pit in her stomach twist. "I—I can't imagine. I'm so sorry."

"It's Dash's own fault." Curling up into her seat, Sunset let loose a scoff. "She even nailed that stupid stunt, you know? Of all the fucking—" Sunset practically spat out the next word— "luck in this God-damned world, Rainbow Dash managed to jump thirty buses on a flaming motorcycle, into a pool of pure nitroglycerine—" another scoff— "and somehow managed to not blow it the fuck up, all without harming a single hair on her enormous, ego-swollen head!"

Wallflower jumped as Sunset pounded a fist against the dash, the sound reverberating like a gunshot. "Fuck!" Sunset shouted, falling back against the seat as tears welled in her eyes. "She would've been fine if she hadn't stopped to—to—"

While Sunset trailed off, Wallflower fought the red-hot adrenal fear coursing through her, glancing over at her seething girlfriend. "What did she do?" she prompted, trying her best to control the shakiness in her voice.

"She fucking dabbed!" Tears rolling down her face, Sunset threw her hands up in disgust. "She stood up to dab, knocked over her stupid motorcycle that was always one payment away from being repossessed, and then the whole pool exploded and now she's fucking dead!" A shrill sob escaped Sunset as she buried her face in her hands.

Her knuckles white against the steering wheel, Wallflower scanned the road for the nearest place to make an emergency stop. Every alarm bell in her head rang in time with Sunset's rising words and wild gestures. As her breathing quickened and her heart thundered in her chest, Wallflower made an abrupt lane change to pull into a nearby brake-check area for semi-trucks. Once the sedan had slipped between two slumbering tractors, their windshields blocked by curtains beneath the morning light, Wallflower threw it in park and shut off the engine.

By the time Wallflower could take her hands off the wheel, her mind was already far away. Her whole body trembling, she hunched over as if to make herself small, quiet, hidden. Her hands gripped her forearms tightly as she hugged herself, her nails digging into her skin. She held onto the world by a fraying thread as her eyes rapidly flicked between the steering wheel, the floorboards, the keychain hanging from the ignition, anything to stay in the present.

Apparently oblivious, Sunset continued shouting, the impact of each furious word like a hammer to Wallflower's skull. "It's always the fucking dabbing with her! I told her it was ridiculous, but did she ever listen to me? No, of course not!" After heaving a deep breath, Sunset added with a dark laugh, "Because if she did, she'd still be alive, and I'd be kicking her ass for being so fucking stupid!"

Jumping again when Sunset loudly punched the glovebox one more time, Wallflower heaved deep breaths, in and out. Her ears buzzed and rang, the world narrowing down to a tight tunnel as fear gripped her pounding heart, everything loud and angry and confined and alone and she was there and she was here and there was no running, no hiding, nothing she could say, nothing she could do, just stare at the floor and wait for it to be over while the screams and shouts battered her from without and hollowness and hunger clawed at her from within and her arm and her thighs burned and seethed—

"Wally? H-hey, Wally, look at me, okay?"

Sunset's familiar voice cut through the terror like a new blade through old scars, her hand reaching for Wallflower's shoulder to hold her gently or shove her to the floor, eyes wide and full of concern or disgust and regret or hatred. Wallflower more than flinched, recoiling from the arm reaching for her and pressing herself against the door.

It was only when the high-pitched yelp of her own pitiful scream reached her ears that black memories and bleak reality unwound, and just like that the hateful screams in her head quieted down, leaving her stranded on the side of the road with Sunset, who looked absolutely mortified.

"Fuck, W-Wally, I'm sorry, I—"

"—S-sorry, sorry—"

As each interrupted the other with rushed apologies, then fell silent, Wallflower curled into herself against the driver's door. The pained look on Sunset's face etched into Wallflower's mind, burning through her vision even as she closed her eyes. She was driving Sunset to her friend's funeral and couldn't manage to stop herself from making it all about her. All because, what, Sunset was being loud? Because she was trying to process her own pain? And Wallflower couldn't handle that, just like she couldn't handle much of anything, because her stupid, useless, broken brain wouldn't stop connecting things happening right now to things that happened almost a decade ago.

Sunset really deserved better.

Still, while Wallflower hugged her knees, as pathetic and hopeless and damaged as ever, it was Sunset who reached across the center console and placed her hand next to Wallflower's. Patient, present, waiting. Grieving, and still there for her.

God. Wallflower hated how warm Sunset's hand felt in hers. How the sensation of her gentle, yet sturdy grip as their fingers entwined made her racing heart slow. Just a little, but enough. Enough to let her gradually come back to the side of that winding state highway, in a tiny sedan between two looming, voiceless trucks, where she held her girlfriend's hand until the world came back into view.

Every moment, every touch, every whisper of assurance and love Wallflower hated because she knew she didn't deserve any of it. Rather than providing a permanent comfort, some kind of life-changing epiphany or moment of triumph, these gestures from Sunset—who was dedicated and committed and optimistic to a fault—were all in vain. Sure, Wallflower might feel better—did feel better—right now, but, soon enough, they would be here again.

Because Wallflower was a black hole, and it was nothing but Sunset trying her best all the way down.

"Hey." Sunset's voice, husky and raw with tears, demonstrated further to that fact. "I've got you, Wally," she said. "I've got you."

As Wallflower leaned into Sunset's offered embrace, whispering apologies and clinging to Sunset's jacket, all she could think about was how easy it was to slip into this. How powerless she was in the face of her own selfishness.

Maybe, at least, Sunset, too, felt warm beside her, as the rising sun shone through their windshield.

The unscheduled stop notwithstanding, Wallflower managed to pull into the chapel's parking lot about fifteen minutes before the service started. The sun was shining bright as she helped Sunset out of the car and took her girlfriend's hand. Although Sunset had finally stopped crying, Wallflower was certain that wouldn't last. She made sure to grab a couple packs of tissues before they headed into the church.

Inside, the sanctuary was decorated with various action shots of Rainbow Dash doing extreme sports, along with rainbow banners and balloons. Large printed photos of Dash doing finger-guns or a thumbs-up circled the closed casket beside the pulpit. Even this space was swarming with color, wreaths and bouquets of every shade lining the sanctuary.

The scene looked a little too cheery for a funeral, but Wallflower barely remembered the only other one she'd attended as a child. In any case, it wasn't her place to judge. No matter how she felt about this, she was here for Sunset.

The sounds of more crying filled her ears. Mustering a soft smile, Wallflower passed Sunset one of the packs of tissues. While Sunset opened the pack and immediately put it to use, Wallflower scanned the scene before her, not wanting them to linger for long.

Among the rows of pews, Wallflower quickly found where Sunset's friends were sitting. After giving a half-wave to Rarity, who had glanced in their direction, she tugged on Sunset's hand. Without a word, Sunset followed her to their seats at the end of the row.

Wallflower sat down beside Rarity, who was dabbing at her eyes with a silk handkerchief. As Sunset sat down on Wallflower's left, in the seat directly next to the aisle, Rarity murmured a quiet, almost inaudible hello.

"Hey," Wallflower replied, almost in a whisper. From over her shoulder, she heard Sunset mouth a shaky hello back to her friend before squeezing her girlfriend's hand tightly.

Not knowing what else to say, Wallflower glanced down their row at the rest of Sunset's friends.

Applejack sat beside Rarity, seemingly dividing her attention between checking on her crying girlfriend and speaking to the others. Pinkie Pie seemed strangely unbothered by the situation, admiring all the colorful decorations with "Ooohs" and "Aaahs". Next to Pinkie Pie on the other end of the pew, Fluttershy sat with a tablet on her lap—this world's Twilight attending remotely due to her job—and Angel Bunny beside her. The rabbit handed tissues to Fluttershy periodically, who, in between her own sobs, was trying her best to hold up the tablet so that Twilight could see everything.

Looking back over at Sunset, Wallflower heaved an inward sigh. On any other occasion, Sunset would be floating from friend to friend, bringing Wallflower along with every step to make her feel included. Now, her girlfriend merely stared at the pulpit at the front of the sanctuary—and the casket beside it.

Wallflower gently squeezed Sunset's hand. "I'm right here, hon," she whispered.

After a moment, Sunset, her eyes starting to water again, slowly turned to face her. "S-sorry. Just, um—"

"It's okay." Lifting Sunset's hand to her lips, Wallflower kissed it softly. "If you need anything, I'm right here, okay? And when the time comes, you've got this."

"...Okay." A tiny smile flashed across Sunset's face before she turned back to staring at the pulpit. Obviously forced, but that was good enough for now.

As long as Sunset knew Wallflower was there for her, however useless she was, that was enough. That was all Wallflower could do. Be there, like a bump on a log or a body occupying a seat. And as much as she would rather run and hide, today, Wallflower would be the best lumpy body she could be.

More guests entered the chapel as time agonizingly ticked by. Checking her phone, Wallflower realized that they still had about five minutes before the service started. She readied the next pack of tissues, moving them from her purse to the seat pocket in front of her, before checking on Sunset. Noting that there was no change there, she turned to see how the rest of the group was doing.

A few seats over, Applejack and Pinkie Pie were engaged in an apparently deep discussion. Applejack was pointing to a dead fly that had landed for its final flight atop the next row of pews.

"Now, see this here fly. See how it ain't movin'?" As she spoke, Applejack poked at the fly. She then looked over at Pinkie Pie, an expectant expression on her face.

"Well duh, he's just taking a nap, silly!" Pinkie exclaimed as she looked down at the fly. She poked it herself, then giggled. "Wow, he's a really heavy sleeper!"

"No, Pinkie…" Applejack took in a slow breath. "He ain't gonna wake up, ya see?" Applejack moved the fly back and forth. It didn't respond. "He's dead."

"Naw, he's not really dead! Nothing ever dies forever!" Pinkie Pie laughed. "Any moment now, he's gonna wake back up and fly around. Just like Momma told me Granny Pie's gonna come home from her vacation!" Her smile brightened. "Any day now!"

From a few seats away, Wallflower cringed. Beside her, Rarity sniffled, then delicately blew her nose. Fluttershy visibly winced, murmuring something to Twilight on the tablet.

"Uhhhh…" Rubbing Rarity's shoulder, Applejack glanced between Pinkie and her girlfriend. "W-well, Pinkie, you see that box up there?" She nodded towards the pulpit. "Dash is in that box, y'see, and—"

"Actually…" Fluttershy was barely audible as she droned, "The casket is empty. There was nothing left to bury."

Angel Bunny glared at Applejack. Rarity let out a loud wail.

Witnessing all of this, Wallflower just held Sunset's hand tighter.

"Ooh, Dashie's in that box? Like a jack-in-the-box?!" Pinkie Pie jumped up and down in her seat, clapping. "Like a surprise?! I can't wait for the surprise! Is this a big surprise party? Fluttershy wouldn't tell me where we were going! Who's the party for?" She stood up and looked around the room. "Ooh, cool! Dashie's parents, Missus Whistles and Mister Hothoof, are here too! And there's the guys from Dashie's racing team, too! Oh, I bet it's for—"

"Pinkie, will you shut the fuck up for five minutes?!" Sunset screeched, shooting up from her seat. "Please?!"

Before Wallflower could rush to calm her girlfriend, Pinkie Pie merely chirped, "Okie dokie!" and sat back down.

While Sunset heaved deep breaths as Wallflower guided her back down, Rarity and Fluttershy burst into full-blown sobs. From the tablet, Twilight cried out in panic at the sudden escalation of noise. A wadded-up tissue smacked Applejack on the forehead, Angel Bunny hissing at her before returning to Fluttershy's side.

Looking over to meet Wallflower's gaze, Applejack muttered, "I think I did more harm than good."

Gingerly rubbing Sunset's back with one hand, Wallflower reached over to pat Applejack on the shoulder with the other. "It's okay. You tried."

"Yeah…" Sighing, Applejack took off her hat and laid it over her chest. "Guess I made my peace with this a long time ago. Dash was always off doin' something stupid." After a moment, she added, "No surprise to me that she wound up killing herself."

The shock of those words echoed in Wallflower's head like crashing thunder, but when she turned and saw Sunset nodding angrily in agreement, they were more like a bolt of lightning shooting down her spine. Just like that, the world frayed at the edges until it was just Wallflower, Sunset, and the empty box at the front of the chapel.

A horrible thought gnawed at Wallflower's senses as she eyed the sunken, furious look on Sunset's face.

If this was how Sunset was reacting to Dash's death, how would she feel if it was Wallflower in that box?

It was a thought Wallflower hadn't let herself think in a long time. Years and years ago, as a young teenager trapped in a hateful home, the corners of her mind were always occupied by thoughts of ending her life and how her mother would react if she ever went through with it. In some versions of the story, her mother would suddenly realize all the wrongs she'd committed against her child. In others, she wouldn't even bother to hold a funeral. After seeing how her mother had reacted when Wallflower actually made an attempt, she was certain that things would play out like the latter.

During her months living on the streets, thoughts of giving up were never far from focus. After all, she'd been certain at the time that she'd end up dead soon, either from starvation or exposure or as a victim of violence. Given how she'd been affected by all three at different points in her life, could she really blame herself for thinking about taking the easy way out? And whenever she thought about it, whether she cut too deep one day and bled out, or threw herself off a building, or let herself curl up in a frigid corner of some parking deck to die, she was absolutely certain that there wasn't a single person in the world who would care. She expected that, at most, her body would be discovered, hauled off to a morgue, left unidentified for a few days, then torched in a crematorium without a single soul bothering to mourn.

It wasn't until she'd been found by Sunset, finished her inpatient treatment, and moved into Sunset's apartment that she started trying to push back against those thoughts. That was where all this had started, Wallflower now realized. Pushing back like that had been the first layer of the lie that she was "better," now buried beneath hundreds more that had been caked on over the years. Peeling all those layers back and beholding the ugly, hopeless core of her being, Wallflower allowed herself to wonder what would happen if her inevitable future collapse finally fulfilled the promise of her first unsuccessful attempt all those years ago.

A pastor at the front of the chapel started speaking, indicating to Wallflower that the service was starting, but she couldn't see or hear any of it. All she saw was Sunset's face lined with grief and rage as she glared hatefully at an ornate box that held her wife's remains. Her stupid, selfish idiot of a wife, too helpless in the face of her own angsty bullshit to bother sticking around for her wife and daughter—her family.

God, her daughter. Wallflower saw her daughter's face, pained and confused no matter how old she would be if it happened. Wallflower had grown up feeling like she didn't have a family at all, so of course once she had one with Sunset she would throw it all away.

While Wallflower knew that a second suicide attempt wasn't inevitable, she wasn't stupid enough to pretend it wasn't at least a strong possibility. After all, her coming apart at the seams in the years to come was absolutely inevitable—there was no way someone as frail and pitiful as her could keep herself stable for the rest of her life. She would collapse eventually, and there was no telling how far she might fall.

How could she possibly justify forcing Sunset to take that risk by accepting her proposal? If Wallflower died after they got married, it would haunt Sunset for the rest of her life. Sunset would forever tell herself that she should've known better, she should've known that Wallflower was poison, that she was a hopeless cause, a bomb Sunset willingly strapped herself to by so foolishly putting a ring on its fuse. But was Sunset to blame? How could it be her fault when she was so blinded by a love that Wallflower could never hope to understand? No, if Wallflower killed herself someday, everything that followed would be her own damn fault, just like it was Dash's fault now. And just like with Dash, Sunset would never forgive her—and, what was worse, Sunset would never forgive herself for marrying such a horrible, pathetic, mutilated parasite—

"S-Sunset, darling, that's your cue…"

The sound of Rarity's voice yanked Wallflower from her spiraling self-loathing, snapping her back to her seat in the pew. Still holding Sunset's hand, Wallflower felt her girlfriend tremble as she gradually stood up. The eyes of the rest of Sunset's friends, as well as the entire congregation, followed Sunset as she rose to give the eulogy.

When picturing this moment in the preceding days, Wallflower had imagined she would do her best to be present for Sunset as she took these fateful steps towards the pulpit. She would squeeze her hand, offer more tissues, maybe whisper words of encouragement. Instead, too lost in the depths of her own miserable realizations, Wallflower merely felt Sunset's fingers slip through her own as the latter broke away from her seat and strode towards the sanctuary.

All eyes on Sunset, she made her way to the front of the room in complete silence. Cursing herself for being a stupid, useless idiot yet again, Wallflower could only silently hope that Sunset had managed to calm herself during whatever speech the pastor had given. Hopefully something soothing. Some form of comfort. Maybe there had been a prayer, or even a song, that settled Sunset's nerves while Wallflower was lost in her own catastrophe.

The fact that no one had cared to notice Wallflower's despair—and how selfish it was to even occur—testified to how out of place she was here. She couldn't support Sunset on this day of mourning, much less Dash's other friends or family. Why had she even been invited? Even if she was destined to doom Sunset forever, why couldn't she at least help her in some way today?

The sound of Sunset climbing the stairs of the sanctuary punctuated the silence. She walked up to the pulpit, her hands clenching and unclenching into fists. The lights above the sanctuary illuminated both the sweat on her forehead and the paleness of her face.

Wallflower found herself holding her breath as Sunset stood at the pulpit.

"G-good morning," Sunset spoke into the microphone, words uneven on every syllable.

"Good morning," the congregation replied back to her. Minus Wallflower, of course, as well as Rarity and Fluttershy, who had both resumed crying. Applejack tried in vain to tend to both of them, while Pinkie Pie just bounced in her seat, grinning.

Sunset looked petrified up there. Wallflower wished there was more she could do for Sunset than stare.

"Umm…" The mic squealed when Sunset grabbed it, making her—as well as many in the audience—flinch. "Uhh, s-s-sorry. Um…" She visibly gulped. "M-my name is Sunset Sh-Shimmer, and I've known Rainbow Dash since high school, uh…"

Trailing off, Sunset glanced all around the room before her eyes settled on Wallflower. Giving her best attempt at comfort through the gray haze of misery surrounding her, Wallflower offered a tiny smile. Whatever she mustered at least gave Sunset the courage to press on, though she sounded far from comfortable up there.

"During high school, um, Rainbow Dash played…" Sunset paused yet again, then started counting off on her fingers. "On the soccer team… A-and the softball team… And the basketball team… And the volleyball team… And the lacrosse team… And the football team… Um…" Turning red, Sunset mumbled, "Well, actually, no, they wouldn't let her join the football team, so she started one for the girls… And then she got kicked off the team she started for trying to sleep with all the players…"

Wallflower winced as Applejack facepalmed. Shaking her head, Rarity shared a glance with Fluttershy, whose eye twitched. Wallflower heard Twilight ask from the tablet, "Wait, what?"

That last fact clearly upsetting some of the audience, Sunset scrambled onstage to continue. "Uhh! I—I—I mean…" The mic shrieked again when Sunset angled it back towards herself. "Sh-she, um, was in a band with me and the girls… H-her other friends, I mean, uh… But… She was a big athlete in, um, college, where she played…" Fanning herself with one hand, Sunset tugged at the collar of her dress with the other. "Um, everything…"

As Sunset continued stammering, Wallflower's mind again began to drift.

What would Sunset say if she were forced to give a eulogy for Wallflower?

A eulogy for her dead wife—her horrible, selfish dead wife who so cruelly allowed Sunset to make the fatal mistake of marrying her, knowing how things could turn out. Would she speak of how much they loved each other? Would she speak of Wallflower's miserable youth, of the traumatic seeds of the self-hatred and depression that ended her life? Would she speak about Wallflower as she was speaking about Dash, providing nothing more than a simple summary of her activities through the years?

No matter what she said, it would be more than Wallflower deserved.

Sunset was shaking now. Even though her words were lost beneath the white noise ringing in Wallflower's ears, Wallflower still heard hints of whimpering sobs in her wavering voice. She couldn't keep this up much longer.

If Sunset married Wallflower, she might have to give another eulogy like this someday. And, seeing how hard it was for Sunset to deliver this one, Wallflower couldn't bear the thought of making her go through something like this ever again.

Wallflower was unstable. She was toxic. She was a time bomb set to explode and there was no telling how big the blast would be, nor how poisonous the fallout. If they got married, Wallflower couldn't trust herself not to ruin Sunset's life forever. She couldn't.

Even if all her previous attempts to make Sunset see that had failed—backfired, even—she still had to try. She couldn't give up on Sunset's happiness. She couldn't regard Sunset with the same hopelessness with which she regarded herself. And, most of all, she couldn't let the girl she loved stand alone at the front of the chapel any longer.

Filled with grim resolve, Wallflower stood and entered the aisle. She saw the first of Sunset's tears as her girlfriend wiped at her eyes. She heard the murmurs of onlookers as she approached the pulpit. She saw her future as Sunset's wife, in all its joy and horror, flash before her eyes as she tapped Sunset on the shoulder.

"H-huh?" Sunset looked at her the way a child would behold a falling star. "Wallflower, what—?"

In one swift motion, Wallflower swiped the mic from Sunset, swung her arm out behind her, and struck a pose she knew Sunset despised more than anything on this Earth—the same pose Rainbow Dash had held in her final moments.

"Dab!" Wallflower dabbed.

Silence.

Absolute, total silence.

As Wallflower maintained the pose, dabbing for all the world to see, exposing herself as the terrible person she truly was, all eyes remained upon her. Especially Sunset's, big and blue and beautiful and bound to this moment, forever.

In the heart of the chapel, Wallflower Blush stood up, dusted herself off, and waited for her downfall.

It came in the form of Sunset Shimmer, eyes welling with tears, taking a step towards her.

Flinching, Wallflower closed her eyes, ready for the tirade and the terror and the shouting and the shaming and—

"It's exactly what Dash would have wanted!"

Wait, what?

Letting out a long, lamenting wail, Sunset threw her arms around Wallflower. Still weeping, she drew her into a tight hug. The crushing embrace yanked Wallflower's eyes wide open—whereupon she saw that Sunset's entire friend group was on their feet.

One-by-one, each of Sunset's friends filed out of their pews, climbed the stairs, and joined them at the pulpit.

Okay, maybe Sunset was just a little out of it. Giving a eulogy was stressful, after all. Surely, one of the others would see just how heartless—

Piling around her, five more sets of arms, one tiny pair of rabbit paws—and one cold tablet—pressed Wallflower into a group hug.

"Y-you're so thoughtful!"

"I didn't know you had it in ya, Wallflower!"

"Our dearest Rainbow Dash must be smiling down on us all, right now…"

"I don't know why we're hugging, but I like hugs! Yay!"

"Hello? Fluttershy? Can you turn the tablet back to the front? I can't see…"

This time, the thought escaped Wallflower. "Wait, what?"

Rainbow Dash's parents, Windy Whistles and Bow Hothoof, stood up from their seats in the front row. Both were crying—and smiling from ear-to-ear.

"Thank you so much for honoring Dashie's memory!" Windy sobbed, clinging to her husband's arm.

"She'd be so proud of you!" Bow added, wiping tears from his weathered eyes. "She's probably dabbing in Heaven right now!"

Speechless, Wallflower just stood there. Frozen. In a group hug.

Then, the entire congregation was on its feet.

And then…

They were clapping.

Cheering. Yelling. Crying.

Clapping.

Even the pastor gave Wallflower a thumbs-up from the corner of the sanctuary before walking over. Taking the mic from Wallflower's frozen hand, he gestured to the group with a broad smile before turning to the congregation. "It's so heartwarming to see such a loving, supportive gesture by a treasured friend on this day of mourning. Let it be a lesson to us all that, even in our darkest hour, we can each be a beacon of light unto each other…"

More words of hope and resilience, love and joy in the midst of despair, filtered through Wallflower's ears as the world buzzed and twisted before her into a cruel, sick joke.

If there was something—or Someone—up there, looking down, They had it out for her. They just had to. Nothing else made any sense.

"I love you so much," Sunset whispered, before kissing her on the forehead. The others surrounding them broke out into a chorus of "Awww's" before hugging her even tighter.

This time, Wallflower barely heard herself say it back.

The drive home was mostly silent. Every once in a while, Wallflower would hear Sunset humming to herself—melodies from songs she and Dash had performed in their old band, she guessed—but otherwise there was just the sound of the road and the sharp, grating white noise scraping at the inside of Wallflower's skull.

That was it. That was her last shot. No more perfect opportunity to save Sunset from herself could have been presented, yet somehow Wallflower had managed to fuck it up. Again.

No matter what she did, no matter how thoughtless or rude or stupid she was, everything she did just made Sunset love her more.

The sensation of Sunset's hand on her thigh barely registered in Wallflower's mind, but she still took hold of it. Eight years of loving instinct were impossible to overcome, it seemed. Maybe that's why she'd failed in her every attempt to get Sunset to see her for the worthless piece of trash she was.

With her head against the window, Wallflower sighed and closed her eyes. In the darkness behind her eyelids, she saw the ring, her daughter, her life with Sunset, all the happiness that could and would be hers… All of it would eventually wither and die, because Wallflower was a fundamentally broken person, too weak and selfish and hopeless to hold herself together forever, even for the sake of her future wife.

A cold lump settled in Wallflower's chest. That's what Sunset was, wasn't she? Wallflower's future wife—her partner bound to her in holy matrimony for as long as it took for Wallflower to blow it all to hell.

"Hey… Hey, hon?"

Still leaning against the window, Wallflower briefly glanced in Sunset's direction before she answered, her voice near a whisper. "Yeah?"

"I…" As Sunset took in a breath, she gripped the steering wheel tightly with one hand, her other tangling her fingers with Wallflower's own. "I've… been thinking about something."

If Wallflower hadn't checked beneath the dresser that morning, like she did every morning, now, those words might have stoked her anxieties further. However, Sunset hadn't brought the ring to Dash's funeral—a wise choice, for multiple reasons. Without its presence, Wallflower had nothing further to fear, really, and found herself simply not reacting to Sunset's nervousness like she ought to.

"Oh?" Wallflower asked in a neutral tone, watching the world go by outside the window.

"Yeah, I, um." Sunset cleared her throat. "Being here today, seeing all our friends, Dash's family, her teammates, everyone here, it just… It kinda was making me think, y'know?"

Wallflower murmured something noncommittal. Not even she was certain of what she'd said. All she knew was that Sunset was gearing up towards something important to say. And while Wallflower was no expert on grief, there was only one thing she could think of that would have Sunset tiptoeing around her words so much.

Sunset gazed out the driver's-side window before soldiering on. "Life's too short, y'know? Everyone thinks they have all the time in the world to do the things they want. Dash might have been—" her words edged back into bitterness—"an idiot, but she was our idiot, y'know? Our idiot, with hopes and dreams that she never got to realize." Sunset hummed thoughtfully, then shook her head. "And I guess—I guess, in my own way, I've been putting some things off, too. But I don't want to wait any longer."

It wasn't going to be the question, no. But it was going to be close enough. A better version of Wallflower would have tried to stop it, or at least change the subject. If the ring was the locomotive, Sunset was laying down the railroad tracks right now.

Too drained and defeated and defective to make Sunset change direction, Wallflower just nodded and let the train come rolling.

"I was wondering if maybe…" Sunset trailed off, then tried again. "If we could, maybe, I dunno…"

Wallflower could hear Sunset's heartbeat from here. Her future wife—the one she would fail, always, ultimately, no matter how much either of them tried—drew in a sharp breath as she finished, "Go to that little place on the coast? Y'know, the cabin we've always wanted to rent out? Maybe next weekend?"

Slowly turning her head to meet Sunset's intense gaze, Wallflower painted a smile as Sunset's words placed them both on the tracks.

"Sure," Wallflower said. She felt the tracks beneath them rumble, as the future forged full-speed ahead. "Whatever you want."

Chapter 6 — The Bomb

It wasn't under the dresser.

It wasn't under the dresser.

While Sunset Shimmer had been loading their suitcases into the car, Wallflower Blush had lied about needing to use the bathroom and went back upstairs. After she locked the apartment door behind her, she walked into their bedroom, went to the dresser, and pulled the bottom drawer out as far as it would go.

And it wasn't under the dresser.

Sunset had the ring. Whether it was in her suitcase, her purse, her coat, or her pocket, she had the ring.

Wallflower had put the drawer back in its place, turned off the light, and shut the apartment door behind her. Without leaving the ring behind.

It came with them in the car.

It came with them all the way down their residential street, onto the main road, joined them on the highway. Rode with them down the tight twists and turns of the highway as it wound through magnificent conifer forests and hugged the borders of the continent where it met the ocean. Listened to the songs they played on the radio—songs they often sang together. Followed them to every truck stop, every rest stop, every picturesque vista on the way to the little cabin by the sea.

It accompanied Wallflower's every thought, every action, every breath, the final culmination of a destiny that had been chasing her through every moment since Sunset found her at the mall so many years ago. She could feel it with them in the car. In the words Sunset spoke. In the way that she held Wallflower's hand, touched her and kissed her and looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

It was there. Wallflower didn't know whether it hid in denim or leather, liner or pocket, but it was there. It was there, and there was nothing Wallflower could do to return it to its rightful place beneath the dresser. It was there, and it was real, really real, in a way that terrified her like nothing else—no aching hunger, no shout of rage, no empty asphalt beneath a lonesome parking deck—had ever scared her before.

It was there, and Sunset had it, and Wallflower was completely powerless in the face of Sunset and her love. Wallflower had tried everything she knew, with all she had, to keep the ring in its rightful place, where she at least had some semblance of control over it. As long as it was under the dresser, Wallflower had time. She had time, and some hope of hope—some tiny possibility that she could turn the tides and still save Sunset from herself.

But they were here, now, the road giving way to the expanse of sky and shore, and the tide was coming in. Sunset parked the car by the little cabin by the sea—a place they had spoken of for years, dreamed of for years, a place Wallflower had yearned to see and behold and experience herself—with the ring in the car.

She parked it so well with something so heavy weighing the poor sedan down.

Wallflower couldn't have done that.

Wallflower couldn't do a lot of things. She couldn't sing along with any heart to all their favorite melodies on the way. She couldn't genuinely laugh at Sunset's little jokes about having drank too much coffee that morning and having to stop at every place with a bathroom. She couldn't stare out the window at the serenity that swept them up in its branches and boughs and beaches and bays, and smile. She couldn't trust herself not to fishtail the car off a cliff if Sunset asked her to take over.

Wallflower couldn't do anything except force out stunted, artificial responses when Sunset said something, or plaster on a smile when Sunset looked at her. All Wallflower could do was pretend—lying to herself that everything was okay, like she had unknowingly done for the past eight years. At least back when she'd been too stupid to realize it, she hadn't needed to lie to Sunset, too.

Sunset had driven them the entire way. With the ring in the car.

Wallflower couldn't carry the luggage into the cabin. Well, she couldn't carry Sunset's luggage into the cabin. It might fall out of her suitcase. Or her purse. Or the jacket she'd taken off halfway down the highway, because the sun was shining—even though it was fifty degrees and the forecast called for rain.

Sunset carried her luggage inside.

Wallflower couldn't enjoy the cabin. It was warm and cozy and welcoming. It smelled like saltwater and cedar and lavender and rain. It had a king-sized bed with soft sheets and extra pillows and a big flannel quilt. It had a little breakfast nook with a coffeemaker and packets of tea and extra cream and sugar. It had a fireplace with wood from the forest and a box of matches and firestarters and roasting sticks for marshmallows. It had a pristine bathroom with handmade soaps and fluffy towels and a jacuzzi tub next to a window that overlooked the ocean. It had a dimmer switch to turn all the lights down low in both of the rooms and a vase full of roses on the nightstand and chocolates on the pillows.

Wallflower couldn't enjoy the cabin, because being here meant the ring was here, somewhere amongst Sunset's overpacked suitcase and messy purse and jacket that always smelled just like her. The ring was here and even though the skies were clear, big and blue and beautiful, an endless expanse above a limitless horizon, everything felt like it was going to rain.

It was going to rain. Wallflower didn't know when. But it would.

When Sunset sat down on the king-sized bed, atop the big flannel quilt, next to Wallflower, and took her hand, what did she say?

Wallflower didn't know.

Something. Something that wasn't about the ring. Something about maybe going into town—the little village by the sea that they loved.

The town with all the neat little shops that sold candy and caramel corn and seashells and sweaters and treasures aplenty. Stores that always had something unique, something special, that Sunset would find, sometimes hiding in her jacket or in her purse or even in her hands before she showed Wallflower what she'd bought her.

With restaurants that boasted the bounty of the sea, clam chowder and shrimp and scallops and crab—the first things Sunset had been willing to eat, when she and Wallflower visited here many years ago and there was nothing vegetarian except for salad and fries. Where Sunset had finally tasted the ocean after years of dining on nothing that didn't grow from the earth. Where they had shared birthday dinners and anniversary dinners and slices of cheesecake neither could afford.

Beside the town were old trails that took them above and below, towards the sea and sky, both paths interwoven with conifers taller than most trees could ever hope to be. It was along one of those paths, many years prior, that they had found a place like no other. Beneath a wide crescent-shaped cliffside was a spacious cove, clear and clean and beautiful. The tiny beach's sands were soft and white as snow, with a vibrant row of shrubs and ferns lining the cliffside behind them. Above it all, standing atop the cliff opposite the trail that brought them there, an old decommissioned lighthouse stood its solitary vigil, its red spiraling paint still vibrant after so many decades.

It was their place, a place of calm and quiet where Wallflower could close her eyes and listen to the waves, to the call of the gulls, to the ancient heartbeat of a place where time stood still. Where Sunset could hold her hand—could hold her—until everything felt right, just as it should, in that place where wildness remained.

That was the place Sunset was talking about. That was the place Sunset asked Wallflower, as she held her hand in their little cabin, if she wanted to go after their excursion into town.

Wallflower said yes, knowing the ring would follow them. Knowing that their special cove would be where Sunset's future happiness was sentenced to death.

The ring had won. She couldn't fight it any longer.

Even now, it was all too easy to pretend.

Walking hand-in-hand with Sunset along the promenade in that little coastal town they loved, Wallflower found it easy to paint a smile. The rhythm of the sea as it churned in steady waves against the rocks below them, coupled with the distant call of seagulls and the bustle of other visitors along the rows of shops and shore, drowned out the dread drumming in her ears at times. The skies were clear, the sun radiant even with the light chill. It was hard to remember to shiver.

As always, Sunset looked beautiful—was beautiful, today. She wore a light-blue blouse paired with her usual leather jacket, along with a newer pair of jeans and her usual boots. The jacket was a last-minute addition as they left the cabin to head into town. Sunset must have sensed that the weather was going to change.

Maybe.

Looking up at Sunset's vibrant smile and sparkling blue eyes, Wallflower tried not to think about what else might have prompted her to bring the jacket. They—and it—were here already. Might as well try and enjoy whatever moments she could before disaster struck.

Besides, Sunset was looking at her with a quizzical expression on her face. Better try and stay as present as possible.

"Did you hear what I just said?" Sunset asked, before letting out a giggle.

"Uh, no." Wallflower feigned a laugh in turn. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I said, I can't believe you haven't worn that dress before!" Sunset gestured to the flowy soft-pink sundress Wallflower had changed into at the cabin. "It looks really good on you," she added with a grin that seemed equal parts sincere and suggestive.

Wallflower did a small half-twirl in response. A genuine giggle escaped her as she did so, watching the dress spin.

Never before had she worn such gorgeous, form-fitting clothes, much less something like a sundress, until she'd met Sunset. A combination of a strict, overbearing mother who would shame her daughter for showing any skin at all, coupled with hating the girl she saw in the mirror, had her hiding in baggy hoodies and oversized sweaters as long as she could remember. The self-destructive habit she had developed in her childhood years only cemented that style. It was only because of Sunset—and Rarity, to a lesser degree—that Wallflower had finally found the confidence as an adult to try wearing things like this.

As Wallflower looked back up at Sunset, those memories and recollections rushing through her mind, she couldn't help but smile a bit. "It's beautiful. Thank you again for buying it last year."

"Well," Sunset replied, squeezing her hand, "thank you for wearing it to dinner."

Although Wallflower was certain of exactly why Sunset had asked her to wear something like this on today of all days, a part of her couldn't help but probe anyway. "Not that I mind, but why did you ask me to wear it today?" Wallflower asked, doing her best to conceal the nervousness in her voice. "Fish and chips don't exactly scream 'dress-up'."

A grin curled across Sunset's lips. "Let's just say I've… been wanting you to wear it for a while."

The confirmation made Wallflower's heart sink like a stone. Merely mumbling an affirmative in response, she turned away from Sunset to watch the waves. While mesmerizing, the motion of the tides could do little to slow the approach of something just as monumental.

Then, as Sunset leaned against Wallflower, resting her head on her girlfriend's shoulder, Wallflower felt something inside the jacket's pocket bump against her hip. Something square.

The sea drew back, more waves coming ashore as the tide beckoned. A chorus of windchimes played with every gust of wind behind them—a gift display outside one of the shops here. Wallflower could hear her own heart beating faster than the breeze. She braced her fingers against the promenade and stared down into the surf.

"You okay?"

After flinching at Sunset's question, Wallflower mentally clambered back to reality. Without thinking, she answered. "Just nervous." She loosened her grip on the promenade and forced herself to meet Sunset's gaze. "Um, you?"

The concern on Sunset's face melted into a soft smile. Her arms found their way around Wallflower's waist as she said, "I guess we both are."

Wallflower heard, rather than felt, herself laugh. As it had throughout their journey here, her own voice and body now seemed far away. She watched through the eyes of a stranger as Sunset tugged on her hand and led them further down the promenade.

Helpless in the face of fate, Wallflower followed after her.

The skies were beginning to darken now, clouds gathering as the sun began to drag itself down towards the horizon. The sleepy seaside village knew of what was to come, stores flipping their "Open" signs to "Closed" and various visitors making their way back to their cars. The tide was eternal, but even it, too, was slowing, as the apex of high tide loomed past.

Everything was changing, and fast. Wallflower could feel it down to her soul.

"So I was thinking…" Sunset looked over at her shoulder at Wallflower, who was but a few steps behind her. "Maybe we could go for that walk I mentioned before it gets dark, instead of heading back to the cabin?"

Confident of the answer—and of what was to come—Wallflower played dumb in some last-ditch, half-baked attempt to fight the inevitable. "Sorry, where do you want to go again?"

"How about—"

The place Sunset and Wallflower had found on their first visit here, so many years ago. The serene place that felt like it belonged to them. The place with all the things that they loved about this part of the world.

The place where it would all come crashing down.

The little cove.

"—The little cove?"

As the waves roared and the wind beckoned, Wallflower nodded, and let Sunset lead her away.

By the time they'd reached the end of the seaside trail that led to their special place, the sun was hanging low in the sky, painting the horizon gold with wide swaths of evening light. A few thin, wispy clouds lingered out over the ocean, but when Wallflower looked at the sky further inland, all she saw were thick, heavy clouds that cast the cliffs above the cove in shade.

As Sunset led her down onto the beach, the sounds of the forest trail behind them vanished beneath the steady, gentle thrumming of waves against the shore. The wind whispered softly in Wallflower's ears, coaxing her to follow her girlfriend across the sands to their mutual doom.

There was nothing she could do about it now. Wallflower had been presented with so many opportunities to save Sunset from this moment, so many chances to save the woman she loved from the worst fate Wallflower could imagine, yet she had squandered each and every one of them. All of those failures led her here.

It was more than that, even. Every choice, every action, every thought she'd had through her entire life… Had any of them been different, maybe she wouldn't be here. Maybe she wouldn't be holding Sunset's hand, following her to the precipice of annihilation, waiting for her to pull out that ring and ask Wallflower to ensure Sunset's future would be one of regret and exhaustion and misery.

Wallflower's entire life had led her to this moment, all so she could ruin Sunset's.

"I remember the first time we came here," Sunset spoke softly as she looked out over the ocean, still holding Wallflower's hand. "I'd never seen you so… so calm before. And I get why—everything is so simple here. Like when we're here, the rest of the world just stops existing for a while."

Sunset turned to her, her smile as bright and warm as the glowing sun over the horizon. "I feel that way every time I look at you, too," she said. "Whenever I'm with you—at home, in the car, anywhere—all the things that I worry about feel so much farther away, like they can't hurt me when you're around."

Wallflower's heart, long since turned to stone, still managed to crack at those words. Whatever salve Wallflower was to Sunset's anxiety would turn to poison once Wallflower inevitably became the source of that anxiety. The thought made her arms itch angrily.

Rather than look at them, Wallflower turned to watch the waves, nodding silently as Sunset continued.

"But of course I feel that way," Sunset said as she put her arm around Wallflower's waist. "You're my whole world, Wally. You're everything to me."

"I know," Wallflower said, the faint sound of her voice almost lost to the wind. "You're my everything too."

She was. Sunset was her everything—her heart and soul, her other half, the one who made all the pain and misery and trauma of her youth feel like they'd been worth suffering through. It was worth it to survive, to keep going, to say no to the voice in her head that urged her to curl up and die, because with Sunset, Wallflower could actually have a life worth living.

How cruel a fate, then, that with Wallflower, Sunset's life would end up devoid of anything resembling joy.

As the two of them stared at the sea and the sky, Sunset pulled Wallflower into a closer embrace. The evening air was chilly compared to the warmth of Sunset's body pressed against hers, but any comfort such a feeling could have offered was beaten down and choked to death by the tiny pressing of something in Sunset's jacket pocket against Wallflower's side. Like a loaded gun, it compelled her to remain silent and still.

"I love you, Wally," Sunset whispered in her ear. Even in such soft tones, her voice was unmistakably lined with equal parts excitement and nervousness. For a moment, Wallflower thought she even heard Sunset laugh a bit as she said, "I love you more than I could ever put into words."

"I love you too, I… I just want you to be happy." The words passed through Wallflower's lips without her even thinking. As they did, something caught in the back of her throat, her eyes stinging as she deeply inhaled the cool evening air. "That's all I want. All I could ever want."

"I know, hon," Sunset said. She partly pulled away from the embrace, her hands still on Wallflower's waist as she stared at her with those deep blue eyes, brighter than the sky and fuller than the ocean. "I want you to be happy too. Seeing you happy is…" A soft laugh left Sunset again as tears of joy sparkled in the corners of her eyes. "It's my favorite thing in the world, Wally. I want to spend the rest of my life making you smile."

Wallflower couldn't speak. She couldn't even breathe. If she did, she might cry, and then she'd ruin the moment. She couldn't let herself do that—she couldn't take this away from Sunset, even though this would all eventually lead to ruin. All she could manage was a nod, which prompted Sunset to continue.

"Could you do me a favor, baby?" Sunset spoke with sudden confidence as an easy smirk settled on her face. "Can you close your eyes?"

Wallflower did as she was told, relishing these last few seconds of refuge. With her eyes shut tight, everything vanished except the sound of the sea and the whispers of the wind. She held her breath still, fighting as hard as she could to keep down the rising, surging tension in her chest.

"Wally?"

Wallflower didn't move, save for a few tears that squeezed their way out from beneath her closed eyes.

Quiet yet firm, Sunset's voice pierced the silence.

"Open your eyes."

Wallflower opened her eyes.

The first thing she saw was the setting sun itself, barely touching the horizon and bathing the sky in deep golden tones. Its reflection ran across the water in a sparkling line, leading directly to the girl kneeling on the beach before her.

Sunset Shimmer, down on one knee, looked more radiant and beautiful and magical than Wallflower had ever seen her before. Tears glistened on her cheeks, all the way down to her broad, shaky smile. Her arms were held out towards Wallflower, and in her grasp was a tiny box—the same tiny box Wallflower had found so many weeks ago. In one smooth motion, Sunset pulled back the box's lid, and revealed the object that would be the source of her undoing.

The ring was even more flawless than Wallflower remembered. Its band was intricately woven from two strips of white gold, crossing over each other like vines all the way up to the gemstone, which shone pale orange in the evening light. It glimmered with the promise of a future where Wallflower would never again have to fear being alone—a future where Sunset would be cursed with the eternal burden of having Wallflower as her wife.

"I love you, Wallflower. I-I… I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I want—" Sunset's voice broke as her smile widened—"I want everyone to know that I'm yours forever."

Forever.

The infinitely glittering reflections within the ring's facets stretched out into eternity. Wallflower stood at the precipice, frozen in the face of the future.

A thousand images flashed through her mind all at once—her mother's face contorted with rage; Sunset's perfect smile and outstretched hand; the corner of the parking deck stairwell she slept in; the paintings on the wall of her inpatient room at Skyland; the look on Sunset's face when she first told Wallflower that she loved her; the box of razors she'd hidden from Sunset after she first moved in; the look of pride on Sunset's face when Wallflower threw the box away; the many home-cooked meals Sunset prepared for her to help build her strength after a lifetime of being underfed; the way the moonlight danced in Sunset's eyes after they made love for the first time; years of growth and change and love and trust and joy and tears and all the sweet, quiet, special moments that made Wallflower happy to be alive.

Then she saw her daughter's face. Through the reflected facets of the ring, her baby girl smiled at her, and all at once the past and future shattered into a trillion pieces, sending Wallflower crashing back into the present just in time to hear Sunset say the words.

"Wallflower Blush, will you marry me?"

Time stood still. The only thing Wallflower could think of was to do the one thing she'd ever been good at in her entire life.

Without so much as a word, Wallflower turned and ran.

Chapter 7 — Never Let Me Go

Wallflower Blush didn't even make it three steps before she tripped and faceplanted into the sand.

Frozen on the spot, still down on one knee, Sunset Shimmer didn't immediately react. Her eyes wide with an apparent mix of confusion and fear, she blinked once, then twice, before her pupils shrank to pinpricks.

"Oh God!" Sunset shouted, before shooting to her feet. She rushed over to help her fallen would-be fiancée. "I'm so sorry! I-I'm so sorry, Wally, are you okay, I—I didn't mean to scare you, I'm so sorry!"

Doing her best to wipe the sand from her eyes, Wallflower sat up in Sunset's arms, coughing all the while. After practically throwing the ring back into her jacket pocket, Sunset kept fumbling over herself to apologize, but Wallflower could barely hear any of it. Focusing on her girlfriend's stammering apologies was really, really hard when her chest hurt so much from trying not to cry.

"Fuck, W-Wally, I'm sorry, I just—I thought we were on the same page, I-I thought—"

"Of course I want to marry you!" Wallflower forced the words out, and in doing so, forced out the first of many tears. "I want to take that ring and say yes and hold you a-and never let you go, but—"

"But what?" Sunset's voice wavered. "I don't understand."

"—But it's not about me!" Wallflower cried. "If you marry me, I-I'll ruin you, Sunset!"

Sunset didn't even respond. She just watched, silent, as the black pit of guilt and shame in Wallflower's heart finally let itself show.

"I know you want to marry me, but you shouldn't! You shouldn't even want to be around me!"

"But I love you—"

Tears streamed endlessly down Wallflower's face, the dam she'd barely held together ever since she'd found the ring finally crumbling to pieces. "I know you do, because you're kind and thoughtful and loving and perfect a-and—and I'm not like you, Sunset! I'm awful, I've always been awful! I mean, look at what I just did, making you feel like you should be sorry for loving me so much that you want to marry me! I'm the worst person you've ever met, even if you can't see it!"

Sunset's voice softened. "Wally…"

"Look at what I've been doing to you for eight years now, gaslighting you into thinking you lived with a functional person when really I'm still just the same useless burden I was when you found me!" Wallflower could feel her lungs burning, her eyes stinging with tears, but it didn't matter. It was all falling apart, just like she always knew it would. "Hell, I even had myself fooled, I-I really—" Her words were choked by a sudden sob— "I really thought I was getting better, I… I…"

The clouds atop the cliff now lingered over the beach as the sun began to disappear behind the horizon. Light and warmth fled from the cove as night fell, leaving nothing behind but a sobbing girl and the wonderful woman she had somehow tricked into caring about her.

"You are better, Wally," Sunset spoke softly, holding both of Wallflower's hands in her own. "You've come so far from where you were when I found you. You're amazing, the most amazing person I know! The fact that you lived through so much awfulness and not only survived, but came out the other side a good person…" She gave Wallflower's hands a little squeeze. "I never could've done that, but you did."

Good? Sunset thought she was a good person?

Wallflower really was the worst kind of monster to have fooled Sunset into believing something so horribly untrue.

"You're wrong." Wallflower shook her head stiffly. "I'm not good, I'm not even decent. I'm the worst kind of person—a fragile, miserable parasite who latched onto someone so much better than me so I could get a free ride! All the love, all the support you give me, I don't deserve any of it! You'd be better off if you just threw me back out on the street!"

Something like anger flashed in Sunset's eyes, but only for a moment before her gaze softened again. "That's your mother talking, isn't it?"

"So what if it is?" Wallflower futilely tried to wipe away some of the tears in her eyes. "Maybe she was right about me all along. I'm worse than useless—I don't even have the courtesy to contribute nothing, I just take and take and take and no matter what it'll never be enough because I'm a fucking black hole, Sunset! If you marry me, then no matter what you do for the rest of our lives, I'll always be one step away from falling back into my same old self-destructive shit and there's nothing either of us can do about it because that's just who I am!" Thrusting her scarred forearm at Sunset, she cried, "A disgusting, mutilated freak!"

"Wally, let's slow down, okay?" Sunset said, her voice clear and measured. "How about we do some paced breathing? Just like we practiced—"

"No!" Wallflower's stupid, childish screech rang through her own head like a fire alarm. "All the therapy, all the mindfulness, it's not gonna work, okay? It's not gonna change anything, not in a way that matters! I-I've been papering over the cracks all this time, and I—fuck, I really thought I was better!" A small, pitiful laugh escaped her, followed quickly by more sobs. "I-I really thought I could just—just stay in the present and talk about my feelings and not cut myself anymore, and somehow that'd make me a better person, but it didn't!"

"You were never a bad person, honey. You didn't need to be better, you just needed help to feel better," Sunset said, again somehow without the slightest hint of irritation. "And talking about your feelings only helps you feel better if you're being honest about them. With me, with your therapist, and with yourself."

"Well, I'm being honest now." Wallflower curled in on herself, hugging her knees to her chest. "I love you, Sunset. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone or anything, a-and… And as desperately as I want to, if I take that ring from you, I will ruin your life."

Sunset put her arm around Wallflower. "How do you think you would ruin my life?"

"By being part of it!" Wallflower shouted. "Sooner or later, I-I'm gonna fall apart again and be just as broken and useless and pathetic as I was before we met, and you'll have to pick up the pieces!"

Sunset just kept holding her close. "You're so much stronger than you think you are, baby. The strongest person I've ever met, in fact." She paused, then added, "I understand why you're afraid of feeling the way you used to. I don't want you to feel that way either—not because I'd be annoyed with you, but because I love you and I want you to be happy. But even if you do start to feel that way, for whatever reason, that's okay! It won't be like it was before we met, because this time you'll have me." Sunset shifted beside Wallflower so she could look into her ugly, teary, puffy face. "No matter what happens, we'll get through it together."

"And what happens then, huh? What happens after I put you through all that exhaustion and stress?" Wallflower could feel herself spiraling down the black hole of her own angsty bullshit, but she couldn't fight its gravity anymore. All the worst parts of herself came spilling out, and she was powerless to stop them. "Even if you drag me back to something like being stable, it's only a matter of time before I fall apart again!" Another sob ripped through her. "And no matter what either of us do to try and make things better, it'll just keep happening, again and again and again until either you can't take it anymore or that—that thing in my head that makes me want to hurt myself finally wins, and I just fucking die!"

The sound of Wallflower's cries mixed with the rhythm of the waves as Sunset hugged her tight. Until Wallflower managed to find her breath—her pained, choking sobs ebbing away into sniffles and whimpers—Sunset remained silent.

Then, the hesitation in her voice finally betraying her measured responses, Sunset asked, "Do you really want that, Wally? For that thing in your head to win?"

Having just found her breath, Wallflower felt like the wind had been knocked out of her lungs again as the weight of Sunset's words washed over her.

Those nebulous thoughts about what she might do after Sunset left her… The way her forearm and her thighs itched and burned at her whenever something went wrong, no matter how small or meaningless it was… How the thought of the future—any future, even a happy one—always sent her into a spiraling web of panic and urges and the constant, thrumming command of don't think about it, don't think about it…

Was that all because Wallflower truly, in the deepest, darkest corners of her heart, still wanted to die?

"...No," Wallflower exhaled, almost in a whisper. "N-no, I… don't want that." More tears sprang to her eyes. "I-I don't want to die, I… I want to be happy. Or at least try to be."

Relief shone through Sunset's eyes as she took hold of one of Wallflower's hands. "I want you to be happy too, baby. And… I want to be happy too." She kissed the back of Wallflower's hand. "With you."

"But… But I…" The self-hating monster in the back of Wallflower's head had been knocked off balance, but still scrambled to find its footing. "What if I make you unhappy? What if I'm too much, wh-what if I hurt you? I want to be with you forever, Sunset, I want to make you happy, I-I just—I don't know how to trust myself not to fuck it all up…"

Looking deep into her eyes, Sunset gently smiled. "Sweetie, I'm not perfect, and neither are you. And neither is our relationship—no relationship ever is." She squeezed Wallflower's hand. "And that's okay, because every time something difficult comes up, we've always worked through it and come out stronger on the other side. And if something happens like what you're afraid of, we will work through it, because we love each other enough to want to."

As her words faded away, Sunset briefly gazed up at the rainclouds gathering above them. Then, she continued. "I—I know there will be tough days. For both of us." She paused as the first drops of rain began to fall. "Marriage, building a life together, maybe even starting a family…" Sunset sighed, but still smiled. "I have no illusions that things are always going to be easy, but…"

Sunset leaned in close, as if about to reveal a secret long held close to her heart. Then, she said, "No matter what life throws at me, I know I can get through it just fine, so long as I'm with you." She kissed Wallflower's hand again before looking up at her with nothing but genuine, heartfelt love, and saying, "I'd rather we go through a thousand hard days together, than spend a single day of my life without you."

"I-I… Sunset…"

Wallflower heard her mother's voice echoing in her head. She heard all the insults, all the taunts, all the screams and shouts of hatred and disappointment and vicious, biting words that tore her sense of self to shreds.

"I—I just…"

She heard the cold, cruel accusations of selfishness and stupidity. She heard all the assurances that she wasn't good enough, that she'd never be good enough, that she'd always ruin the lives of everyone she touched.

"S-Sunset…"

She heard the scoffs and sneers, saw the rolling eyes and piercing angry gaze. She heard the words she could never escape from, pinning her with venomous tones and condemning her as a thoughtless, hopeless, mutilated parasite—

When Wallflower felt Sunset kiss her, there on the beach as rain started to fall, her mother's voice in her head finally fell silent.

And when the kiss ended, Wallflower, safe in Sunset's embrace as they held each other beneath the storming skies, finally let herself want all the things that had for so long felt out of her reach.

"Sunset, I—I want to marry you!" New tears, sparkling with hope, rolled down Wallflower's cheeks. "I want it! I want the wedding and the dresses and the vows and the honeymoon!"

"Me too, baby." Sunset wiped away some of Wallflower's tears. "Me too!"

"I want…" The words started pouring from Wallflower's lips, accelerating with the rain. "I want Rarity to fuss over our dresses, and Pinkie to bring way too many sweets, and Fluttershy to cry all the way through the ceremony!" She smiled—a broad, true smile. "A-and we'll save a place for Rainbow Dash alongside the bridesmaids, maybe a little table with her picture and some candles!"

"Perfect!" Sunset giggled. "She'd probably prefer that to wearing a dress anyway!"

"A-and I... I want..." Wallflower's mind suddenly came alive with all the wonderful things that could be—would be hers. "I want to go on a honeymoon with you, and take way too many pictures, and eat nothing but chocolate and pizza, and when we come home, we'll just flop on the couch for a week and fight over the remote because sometimes you hide it and we both know you're lying when you say you don't!"

Sunset laughed. "H-hey, that was only one time…"

"I… I…" Heaving deep breaths, Wallflower continued in a mix of happy tears and the occasional laugh. "I want to be with you forever, and buy a house with you! Paint a room, argue over wallpaper, hire someone to do it when it gets to be too much! Do laundry and taxes and all that boring shit with you! Hell, I, I'll even go to one of those stupid timeshare things if you get suckered into it again, just so we can eat the free food and I'll sit next to my wife who dragged me there!"

"That was one online ad!" Though clearly feigning offense, Sunset was still laughing. "I promise I won't sign up for those 'free vacations' anymore, alright? Only the best for my wife!"

"A-and I want us to have a family!" For the first time since Sunset had mentioned it at the lake, Wallflower let herself think about the daughter they could have together, and when she did, what little of her composure she'd regained broke down into a overwhelmed, overjoyed mess. "I-I wanna have a baby, and—and I want us to spoil her and love her more than anything, a-and take her to all the places that mean so much to us, and give her the family I-I always wanted when I was a little girl, and watch her grow up and discover herself and be whoever she wants to be and—!"

Her ecstatic, tearful ramblings were cut short by another kiss from Sunset, long and drawn out and full of love and fire. "I want that too, Wally," Sunset said through her own tears. "I-I want us to be better moms than our own, and give our kid the whole world!"

"Oh God, Sunset, I—I wanna have your baby, I don't even know if that's possible, but ever since we went to the lake last month, I-I keep seeing this little girl in my head, and she…" Wallflower closed her eyes and smiled. "She has your hair, a-and my eyes, and I just—I can hear her voice, and see her smile, and I want to hold her so badly, Sunset, I can't even put it into words!"

"Then that's what we'll do!" Sunset laughed and hugged her. "I know there's something like that back home. I could ask my mom, she could explain it to me and we—we can start a family together!"

Upon hearing that her deeply-held dream was not only possible, but could actually come true, Wallflower felt a sudden sense of clarity wash over her. She stood up, unphased by the rain and the chill of the night, and told her future wife, "Ask me again."

Sunset's eyes widened. "O-okay! Okay, uh, lemme just…" Reaching into her pocket, she retrieved the little box that had been the object of Wallflower's obsession ever since she had found it beneath Sunset's dresser so many weeks ago. Wiping her damp hair from her eyes, Sunset—smiling brighter than ever—held out the box and opened it, once more revealing to Wallflower the promise of the beautiful future they would have together.

As Sunset got on one knee, Wallflower watched her in awe. A life spent with this woman was everything Wallflower had ever wanted, and as Sunset started to say the words, Wallflower was overcome with the life-changing realization that everything she'd ever wanted really, truly could be hers.

All she had to do was reach out and take it.

"Wallflower Blush, will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Wallflower cried, holding out her hand. "I am gonna marry you so hard, Sunset Shimmer!"

"I've waited eight years to hear you say that," Sunset said, smiling from ear-to-ear. A mix of rain and happy tears flowing down her face, Sunset picked up the ring with shaking hands.

At last, the ring met its rightful place on Wallflower's finger.

Despite the dark clouds above them, the sunstone, set into a band of white gold, gleamed in the last embers of light. They both took a moment to admire the ring, looking upon it in almost breathless reverence.

So far had it come. Had they come.

After some time, Sunset stood up and wrapped her arms around Wallflower. "So?" she asked, an eager smile on her face. "What do you think?"

"It's perfect." Wallflower felt another wave of joyful tears coming on as she looked between Sunset and the ring. Her ring. Her engagement ring.

Taking Sunset's hands in her own, Wallflower murmured, her words almost lost in the sounds of the sea and whispers of the wind, "You're my fiancée."

"Yeah." Something between a giggle and a sob followed, before Sunset replied, "I-I am."

"And I'm yours." All of the doubts and the fears and the dread that had followed her here now washing away between rain and waves, Earth and sky, Wallflower said, before leaning in to kiss her, "All yours."

Even in that moment, as they met in the night, Wallflower did not believe that she would never feel those fears again. That she had fully overcome her self-loathing—that dark, nagging voice in her head that tried to take away the joy and love and goodness that was rightfully hers. That everything had been taken away with the tides.

She knew even then, as she kissed Sunset again on the beach of their cove, that there was work to be done. It would be hard and rough and exhausting, and there would still be moments where she felt like she didn't deserve this joy—this love—this future that now heralded its arrival, even if only in a step, now that she had welcomed it.

Wallflower knew things didn't work that way.

But, in that moment—as her fiancée embraced her, and the downpour turned to a tempest, and the ocean roared behind them—Wallflower knew that, whenever that darkness opened its maw and invited her in yet again, she wouldn't just let it take her this time.

And even if it did, Sunset would always be there at her side. Not behind her, not in front of her—at her side. Partners. Equals.

Wives.

Epilogue — How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful

Of all the things Wallflower Blush ever imagined she'd do, visiting her and Sunset's favorite places with their daughter wasn't one of them.

The way to the lake hadn't changed at all in the nearly three years since they'd last come here. Towering pines lined the pathway from the little dirt parking lot on the side of the road all the way down to the water, where the low grass and shade gave way to the wide open shores. At the edge of the sands were the same set of picnic tables, and far above it all, the same stars watched from overhead. If Wallflower didn't know any better, coming here would've felt like stepping back in time.

That said, the walk from the car was definitely a bit more strenuous than it had been during her last visit.

"Are you sure you don't want me to hold her, hon?" Sunset repeated the offer she'd made when they first got out of the car.

Wallflower shook her head—slowly, so as not to disturb the sleeping child in her arms. "It's okay, I can handle it," she said. "Besides, carrying her is a nice bit of nostalgia for me."

"Yeah, I bet it is." Even in the dark of the night, Wallflower could make out Sunset's smile. "Just be sure to ask for help if you need it, okay?"

"Don't worry, you're getting her on the way back," Wallflower teased.

"As if the alternative is even an option," Sunset said. "Your doctor would kill me if she found out I was letting you carry around a twenty-pound kid like this."

"Yeah, yeah…" Shifting her weight to better hold up the snoozing child clinging to her, Wallflower sighed. "You're right, I probably shouldn't be, but… I realized lately that soon, she'll be so big that I won't be able to pick her up anymore. I guess I want to hold her like this every chance I get."

The warm feeling of Sunset's arm around her waist prompted Wallflower to press herself a little closer to her wife. The two of them—three of them—stayed like that for a while, holding each other beneath a blanket of stars.

"Gosh, I haven't seen the sky lit up like this since… I guess since the last time we came here." Sunset craned her head upwards. "I've really missed it."

"Me too," Wallflower replied. "I wish we'd been able to make it out here sooner."

"Honestly, same, but I'd say we had some pretty good reasons for being so busy," Sunset said. "The wedding, the honeymoon, I had to spend months taking care of some cranky pregnant lady—"

"I am not a cranky pregnant lady!" Wallflower shot back playfully, still trying to keep her voice down.

Sunset laughed. "Can we settle on needy pregnant lady?"

"Okay, I won't fight you on that one," Wallflower giggled.

"Between all that and the baby, well…" Sunset looked at her and smiled. "I'd say we've earned a night of stargazing."

"Agreed." Wallflower smiled back. "Speaking of which…"

Wallflower felt a little someone starting to stir in her arms. Gently running her fingers through her daughter's wavy red hair, she spoke softly to her.

"Holly, sweetie, you awake?"

With a stretch and a bit of a wriggle, Holly made the answer known. Wallflower beamed at her baby girl, just like she did every time she realized—to her continual, eternal amazement—that this child was real, and hers, and actually really real.

"Mmm... Mama..." Holly yawned. "Where's Mommy?"

"Right here, baby girl," Sunset said. "Do you want to see the pretty thing Mommy and Mama were talking about?"

"Oh!" At that, Holly snapped awake, suddenly full of energy in the way only a toddler could be. "Yes! Pretty!"

Sunset held her arms out to take her, and Wallflower nodded, handing Holly off to her mother. Grinning broadly, Wallflower watched as Sunset held their daughter in one hand and covered her eyes with the other.

"Ready?" Sunset angled Holly so that the little girl was facing skyward.

"Pretty!" Holly said again, giggling.

Sunset shrugged. "I'll take that as a yes." With that, she uncovered Holly's eyes, revealing to her daughter a full, moonless sky, glittering with thousands upon thousands of stars.

"Oooh…" Holly's eyes went wide, and she reached up at the sky with tiny, outstretched arms. "Pretty…"

Wallflower followed her daughter's gaze, herself taking in the wide expanse of the shimmering heavens. Everywhere she looked, something was shining, twinkling, shimmering in her periphery as much as it was wherever she focused. The only place she had seen the sky more alive than here was at that little observatory in the mountains, where the entirety of the galaxy could be seen stretching across the sky. Silently resolving to take Holly there too, someday, she stood beside her wife and daughter and sighed happily.

"You doing okay, hon?" Sunset glanced at Wallflower.

"Yeah, just… thinking," Wallflower said. "There are so many places I want to show her, y'know?" She looked down. "Things are gonna get so busy soon… I guess it feels like we're up against the clock."

Sunset started to respond. "I know what you—"

"Mama, look!" Holly interjected, tugging at Wallflower's hair. Her adorable little smile glowed brighter than the sky as she pointed up at the stars. "Pretty!"

Wallflower's heart swelled. "Yes, sweetheart," she said, running her fingers through Holly's hair. "It's very pretty."

"Very pretty!"

After waiting a moment, likely to ensure she wouldn't be cut off again, Sunset said, "I know what you mean. Though, we have a little practice now, so hopefully round two won't be as hard." She eyed Wallflower's tummy, where the first hints of a baby bump were starting to show. "I mean, we're practically experts at parenting by this point."

Wallflower couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe, but soon we won't be able to outnumber the kids anymore. It's gonna get a lot tougher without the numbers advantage."

"Eh, I'm sure we can handle it." Sunset smirked. "Have you thought of any more names to add to the list?"

"I think we have more than enough already," Wallflower said. "Although, is your mom still coming over for dinner next weekend? I actually wanted to ask her if she had any suggestions."

"Oh God, Wally, look…" Sunset rolled her eyes as she shifted a still-entranced Holly from one arm to the other. "If you ask her for baby names, all you'll get are like… weird space puns or something. I don't want our next kid to get bullied in school because her grandma couldn't keep her astronomy obsession in check."

"All I'm saying is that it doesn't hurt to ask," Wallflower said. "You're allowed to say no to her suggestions."

Sunset sighed, then smiled. "Yeah… Yeah, you're right. No harm in asking. Besides, she'll just be happy to be included."

"Exactly." Wallflower pulled Sunset—and Holly by extension—into a light hug. "She's part of the family too."

Family.

Wallflower let herself sit with that word for a moment.

For the first time in her life, she had a family. Not a violent, hateful person she was related to and lived with, not a loose group of friends that she was technically a part of—she had a wife, a daughter, a mother-in-law… For years, Wallflower had been denied a family. Now, with Sunset, she had managed to make her own, and it was everything she'd ever wanted.

As she watched her daughter reach gleefully towards the sky, heard her wife tell their daughter about the stars, and felt the curve of her tummy wherein her second daughter was growing, Wallflower took that thought, cradled it, nurtured it, and breathed and lived in awe of its truth.

She made her own family.

It hadn't been easy. Even just surviving until she found Sunset hadn't been easy. The months spent recovering from malnourishment, the years spent untangling her web of traumas, the final grand hurdle of learning to truly let herself be loved… The Wallflower who overcame all those things suffered through so much horror, but she survived it all—all so the Wallflower of today could be here, seeing the stars with her wife and daughter.

Despite everything that she had suffered through… It all brought her here. While she would never be grateful to the traumas inflicted upon her for laying the path that eventually led her to this moment, she was instead grateful to herself—for holding on, even when it seemed meaningless, with the distant hope that someday, far off in a future she could never have imagined, her resilience in the face of so much pain and misery might one day be worth something.

Wallflower owed it to her younger self to make the most of the life that young girl had gifted her—to make sure it was a life worth living.

"Wally?" Sunset's voice pierced the veil of Wallflower's thoughts. When Wallflower looked over at her, she saw Sunset with a sound-asleep Holly in her arms.

"Looks like staying up so late past bedtime finally caught up with her," Sunset said.

"That's alright," Wallflower said, her gaze turning skyward for the final time that night. "I'm proud of her for sticking it out so she could see this."

"Yeah," Sunset said, grinning. "She's as stubborn as her mom."

"Which one?" Wallflower smirked.

"Hmmm…" Sunset paused, cradling Holly's head with her free hand. "Whichever one is stubborn enough to be cute, but not stubborn enough to make her impossible to put to bed when she's a little older."

That got a laugh out of Wallflower—thankfully not loud enough to wake Holly.

Sunset took a few steps towards the path back to the car, then turned and held a hand out to Wallflower.

"Ready to go home?"

Breathing deeply of the cool, clear evening air, Wallflower smiled, took her wife's hand, and nodded.

With the stars and sky behind them, and a boundless, beautiful future ahead, Wallflower and her family made their way home.