While her girlfriend eagerly took a bite of her pizza, Sunset Shimmer focused intently on her video game. She barely noticed that Wallflower Blush was on her seventh slice of what was supposed to be their "shared" pizza. No matter. She'd already wolfed down her own two pieces before deciding to try to get past this monster again.
As her character was blown to bits by the ancient robot for what felt like the hundredth time in a row, Sunset heaved a deep sigh. Taking a break from her frustration, she looked over to see Wally licking the grease from her fingers. "Good pizza, babe?" she asked with a giggle.
"Mhmm!" Picking up yet another slice, Wallflower added, "I never get to eat this much at home."Â
Sunset smiled. "Well, glad you like it." With that, she turned back to her game, pushed past the "Game Over" screen, and started the challenge anew.
A glance at the clock on the wall confirmed that Sunset had been at this for over an hour. She'd already been playing when Wallflower arrived for their date night. Given her current progress, it seemed unlikely that her girlfriend would be doing much tonight other than watch her fail over and over again.
"Damn it," Sunset hissed between her teeth.
Wallflower looked up from the pizza box. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Sighing, Sunset pushed past the "Game Over" screen. Again.
Furious button presses and muttered curses soon drowned out the sound of Wallflower noshing on pizza and slurping her soda. Clutching the controller with all her might, Sunset leaned forward on the couch. Eyes locked on her game, she forced her character to dodge to the left, then the right, then parry—
—Or not.
"FUCK!" Sunset shouted at the television, "Why is it called a 'Guardian' if it just fucking kills you over and over?!" When the game threw back its mocking, cursed red "Game Over" message in response, Sunset threw her controller to the floor. "Stupid fucking crawling piece of—"
A nearby clink tore Sunset away from the screen. Beside her, she saw that Wallflower had knocked over her glass, half-full with soda, which was spreading all over the coffee table and dripping on the carpet. "Oh, shit!" Sunset stood up. "Here, babe, let me get you some—"
"Idiot!" Wallflower brought her hands to her head. "Stupid, stupid idiot!" In time with her words, she hit her temples with the flat of her wrist.
Taken aback, Sunset simply fell silent, eyes wide.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Quickly, Wallflower moved everything off the coffee table to the couch, then ran into the kitchen. After returning with a roll of paper towels, she mumbled between glances towards Sunset—none looking her directly in the eye—"I'm such an idiot, sorry, sorry…"
As Wallflower made haste to clean up the mess, Sunset finally shook free of her haze. "Hey, Wally, relax. It's not a big deal," she said with a soft smile. "Everyone makes mistakes. Here, let me help y—"
When Sunset moved to place a hand on Wallflower's shoulder, her girlfriend flinched.
No, not just flinched. Wallflower practically jumped away from her.
Without hesitation, Sunset pulled her hand back. "Whoa. Oops, sorry."
"Sorry," Wallflower said again, still not quite looking at her. "Sorry."
"It's alright," Sunset assured. Wallflower didn't respond.
While Wallflower finished cleaning up, Sunset decided to focus on some tidying of her own. Though she hadn't made it past that damned Guardian, the game no longer mattered. She turned it off and put the controller away.
Once Wallflower took her seat on the opposite end of the couch—sitting further away than she had before, Sunset noticed—Sunset decided to break the awkward silence she felt settling between them. Although she kept her hands to herself, she turned to face her. "Hey, did you still want to watch that movie I rented?"
"...Maybe." Wallflower only briefly glanced her direction before looking back down at the floor. Her arms were crossed, as if hugging herself.
"There's some ice cream in the freezer I've been saving for tonight, if you're interested." Sunset offered her a smile.
Peeking up from the floor, Wallflower asked after a moment, "Chocolate chip?"
"Of course!" Sunset beamed. "I know it's your favorite."
Reaching over, Wallflower grabbed Sunset's hand and gave it a squeeze.
Relieved, Sunset squeezed back. She brought their joined hands up to her lips, then kissed the back of Wallflower's palm. "Gimme a bit and I'll set everything up, okay?"
To her greater relief, Wallflower smiled. It was a small smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Okay," she said as she let Sunset's hand go—and scooted closer on the couch.
Yawning, Sunset turned off the DVD player and TV, then turned to the girl in her arms. "Like the movie?"
Settling in against her, Wallflower sighed into Sunset's cozy shoulder, "Yup."
Sunset laid her head on top of Wallflower's. "Good."
The two sat in silence for some time afterwards, enjoying the quiet and each other's company.Â
Their ice cream bowls and spoons sat on the coffee table, not one bite left. The movie had met Sunset's expectations, providing a nice ninety minutes of popcorn—well, ice cream in this case—entertainment.
What had exceeded her expectations, however, was how fast Wallflower had seemed to bounce back from the awkwardness of a couple hours prior. Sunset could empathize; Goddess knows how many accidental faux pas she had made when she first started making friends. Thankfully, the others had overlooked these mistakes with nary a thought towards them. In the same vein, Sunset cared far more about how Wallflower was feeling than a little spilled soda.
Now, curled up against Sunset's side, Wallflower seemed to have flowed back right into happy. And Sunset, her eyes growing heavy, was flowing right along with her…
Another yawn. Blinking, Sunset looked up from their cuddle to see it was almost midnight. "Wally?"
"Mmm?" Wallflower murmured, tightening her grip on Sunset's arm.
Sunset rubbed Wallflower's back in slow circles. "It's getting pretty late, sweetie." She placed a kiss to Wallflower's forehead. "I should probably take you home soon."
It could have been Sunset's imagination, but she swore she felt Wallflower stiffen at those words.
"It's Friday night. I don't need to be up early tomorrow or anything," Wallflower said.
"Yeah, but—" a third yawn punctuated Sunset's words— "if I stay up much longer, I'm not going to be able to take you home safely." She playfully poked Wallflower's nose. "Because someone wouldn't let me hear the end of it the last time I rode when I was sleepy."
Instead of the chuckle Sunset expected, Wallflower said, "Well, I could just call a cab."
"...I guess?" Sunset shrugged. "They're pretty expensive though."
"I have some money in my purse." Wallflower reached for Sunset's hand. "Why don't we watch another movie or something?"
Lacing her fingers with Wallflower's, Sunset shrugged again. "Eh, that was my only rental, and there's nothing new on streaming."
"We could watch something we've seen before."
"Not really feeling a repeat. Sorry."
This time, Wallflower took a moment to reply. "Okay, then how about I clean up?"
Sunset chuckled. "It's just a couple bowls and spoons, Wally. I'll throw them in the dishwasher in the morning."
As if she hadn't heard Sunset, Wallflower shot back with another suggestion. "Actually... I could clean the kitchen for you, if you like."
Sunset raised an eyebrow. "Clean my kitchen? Why?"
"Well, it's only fair, right?" Untangling herself from Sunset, Wallflower sat upright. "I mean, you paid for the pizza and the movie. The least I could do is make myself useful."
Brow furrowing, Sunset repeated, "'Useful'?" She blinked away the sleepiness from her eyes and mirrored Wallflower's posture. "Wally, you don't need to make yourself 'useful' to me. You don't need to clean my kitchen, or my apartment, just because I paid for tonight. I wanted to do that." She smiled. "And it's been a great night. But it's getting late, so, we should—"
"Then let's go for a drive!"Â
"A… drive?" Sunset couldn't help but sound skeptical. With a shake of her head, she said, "Wally, no. I—I'm not even confident that I'll be able to get you home and back without stopping for an energy drink or something. I've been up since six because Rainbow Dash needed some extra tutoring for her Math 92 final, and I have an early shift at the mall tomorrow, so—"
In the blink of an eye, Wallflower grabbed both of Sunset's hands. "Th-then can we just—um…" She trailed off before managing to find her words again. "Maybe just… hang out for a while?
"Please?"
That final word cut through Sunset's haze. Though her mind was still putting the pieces together, the urgency in her girlfriend's voice—almost sounding like she was begging to stay—convinced Sunset in no uncertain terms that something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
"Wally… What's going on at home?"
"Huh?" Wallflower sat up even more, her back ramrod straight against the couch. "I-it's not that I don't want to go home. It's just…" She squeezed Sunset's hands again… too tight. "I just want to spend some more time with you."
Wallflower's words seemed deliberate. Almost rehearsed.
"Wally." Looking her straight in the eye, Sunset spoke in a firm, yet gentle tone. "C'mon. That's not it."
"It is!" Wide-eyed, Wallflower insisted, "It is, Sunset! We've both been so busy with fall term, and your new job, and—"
"Wally." Not backing down, Sunset said in an even keel, "Please tell me what's going on."
For a moment, Wallflower did not respond. She withdrew her hands from Sunset's, drawing them back up to her shoulders. The silence lingered between them, broken only by Wallflower fidgeting and the slow ticking of the clock as the minutes inched past midnight.
Sunset tried not to draw too many conclusions on her own; doing so had not served her well in the past. However, it was unavoidable tonight. The suspicions that she had swallowed sprang to mind while she awaited Wallflower's answer.
Finally, when it came, Sunset was surprised by the simplicity of it.
"Things haven't been… great at home lately." Wallflower picked at one of her sweater sleeves. "Mom lost her job a while ago, and she's been in a… pretty bad mood, I guess."
"In a bad mood… How?"
Wringing her hands, Wallflower took another long minute to answer. "Well, she's just been stressed lately. She hasn't been like this since dad left," she said, plainly not answering Sunset's question.
"I'm sorry, Wally."
"Don't be." Wallflower's words rang bitter. "I barely even remember him."
Sunset winced.
"Anyway…" Wallflower shrugged. "Things have just been… tense… and I… I haven't been helping out around the house as much as I should." She sighed. "It's just stuff like that. Not really a big deal."
Sunset sighed in turn. "Wally—"
"I don't—" Wallflower shook her head. "I-it's nothing. Forget I said anything."
"Wally…"
Wallflower drew her knees up to her chest. "Sorry," she mumbled, her voice muffled by her torn, baggy jeans. "I didn't mean to ruin the night. Sorry."
Though she didn't touch her, as not to startle her, Sunset moved closer to her. "Hey." Leaning down a bit, she said, "You didn't ruin anything, Wallflower. Okay? I know it might feel that way, but you didn't."
Instead of replying, Wallflower stuck out one of her hands. Sunset took it before continuing on.
"If something's upsetting you… I want you to be honest with me about it. Okay?" Sunset stroked her girlfriend's palm. "Even if it's something that might make me upset. And if your mom is doing something to make you feel unsafe at home, I want to know about it." She paused. "Actually, no, I need to know about it."
"'Unsafe?'" Wallflower scoffed. At last, she looked up to meet Sunset's steadfast gaze. "C'mon, Sunset, don't be dramatic. Unsafe." An eyeroll. "It's stressful, yeah, but 'unsafe'? That's taking it too far."
"Is it?" Losing none of her resolve, Sunset willed herself to remain calm in spite of what she dreaded would follow. "Why don't you tell me exactly what she's said that's so stressful, Wally? Or done?"
Although she had crumpled earlier, Wallflower now seemed just as determined as Sunset. "Y'know, usual stressed parent stuff. Wanting more chores done, yelling when they're not, upset that she's lost her job, drinking more—"
"Drinking?"
As if knowing she'd said something wrong, Wallflower added at once, "Wine. Just wine."
"Every day?" Sunset asked. "Every night?"
"What does it matter?"
"Because that's alcoholism, Wallflower. Being around an alcoholic is unsafe enough, and—"
"There you go with the 'unsafe,' again!" Wallflower spat, now fully staring back at her. "What do you want me to say, Sunset? That she hit me?"
"Did she?"
"Yeah, but only because I—"
Wallflower threw her hands over her mouth.
Red-hot fury flashed in Sunset's eyes… right before her heart sank.
She hated being right.
"Wallflower… This isn't okay." Righteous anger coursing through her veins, Sunset utilized every aspect of her self-control to keep her voice steady. Calm. Clear. "This isn't normal. Being hit by someone, for any reason, is not okay, much less by your own mother. Being afraid to be in your own home isn't normal. Having to deal with someone in your own home drinking all day and yelling at you, hitting you, hurting you, isn't normal."
Wallflower stared down at the carpet. "It's normal for me."
For the first time that night, Sunset Shimmer had nothing to say.
She was still holding Wallflower's hand.
"I…" Sunset took a deep breath. "I'm not letting you go back there tonight."Â
What followed was one of the longest nights, and conversations, of Sunset's life. That morning, she woke up early, prepared her speech, and waited for Wallflower to rise in turn.
After what she had learned, there was no way in Tartarus that she was going to let her girlfriend go home to that… especially when her cozy apartment had room and space and safety awaiting her. Regardless of how everything worked out—or not—Sunset was not going to let someone she loved and cared for be abused.
Once Wallflower woke up, Sunset made them a simple breakfast. They ate mostly in silence, tension hanging between bites of pancakes and syrup. After the dishes were cleared and both were somewhat alert, she told her:
"If you don't want to go home today, either… you can stay here. For good."
"Stubborn" was certainly an adjective that suited Sunset Shimmer well. With those words, she dug her heels in, knowing full well that this wasn't going to be a simple talk.
All of Wallflower's objections boiled down to the same fear: What her mother would say or do to her if she dared to try and break free of her. Every hesitation seemed to be rooted in the reality of what that woman—Sunset loathed to even think of such a person as a mother—had done in the past and showed no remorse of doing again.
As the minutes turned to hours, round and round they went; Wallflower desperately wanting to accept the rope she'd been tossed across the chasm, Sunset doing whatever she could to make her throws closer. Planning morphed from hypothetical into real when Sunset said, meaning every syllable of it:
"You don't have to deal with her alone anymore."
Those were words Sunset knew that Wallflower had long given up on ever hearing.
And here it was, simultaneously real and not.Â
The rest of that morning was logistics and contingencies and backup plans. Everything from how to get Wallflower's legal documents if her mother refused to give them up, to which friends Wallflower was okay with asking for help if needed, was discussed.
Between everything was more than a few tears. Not just from one direction.
"Alright. You ready?"
Wallflower squeezed Sunset's hand so hard, she thought she was trying to break it.
"No."
"Me neither."
But she had to be. Not "they." She had to be.
From both her years as Princess Celestia's personal protégé, and her time climbing the social ladder at Canterlot High, Sunset had learned how to be fake. How to be a mirror, reflecting anything and everything that others expected or wanted of her. How to be a chameleon in the dark, shifting and twisting and camouflaging into something seemingly harmless and unobjectionable. How to be a gray rock.
The thing with being a gray rock, however, was that it could easily be used as a weapon, too.
Once she was sure her mask was in place, Sunset took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
The house was surprisingly well-kept for being a dragon's lair. At least on the outside. Whatever awaited within, Sunset knew was ugly.
While the seconds passed, Wallflower kept her tight grip on Sunset's hand. She could hear her girlfriend's heart beating from here. Her own wasn't exactly steady, either.
Adrenaline had a tendency to do that. Sunset just needed to channel it properly now.
Finally, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the door made them both tense. Immediately, Wallflower let go of Sunset's hand. Such disconnection was part of the deception necessary to enact their plan. Still, it stung, and only added to the tension winding in Sunset's chest.
One last time, Sunset mentally rehearsed the story they'd concocted. Sunset needed a new roommate; Wallflower just got a job at the same mall Sunset worked at. They'd commute together to school and work. It would save both of them money and time. It would be a great opportunity for Wallflower. It would get her out of the rut she was in, which was, in no way, shape, or form, at all to be blamed on the person who had systematically torn her down from early childhood on, oh no, it was just this big happy coincidence, you see, and Sunset was such a good friend, how lucky Wallflower was to have a friend like her, and oh ma'am you have such a lovely home, wow I really like that vase, oh this dinner is so delicious, oh you are so funny, let me tell you this story about—
"Hi there, can I help you?"
Sunset flinched.
What had opened the door was both what she did, and did not, expect.
She didn't walk in with a cigarette hanging from her lips, or wearing a wine-stained wifebeater soaked with rank body odor. That wasn't to say she was pleasant to look at. Between the telltale red-face of an alcoholic—especially the bright-red cherry of her bulbous nose—and the clothes that, while clean, certainly didn't fit her bloated figure, Sunset was shocked that she had the nerve to call Wallflower ugly or fat… much less do so repeatedly.
But the paper-thin smile, the lilt in the voice that was obviously put-on, the air of friendliness that seemed far too reminiscent of forced customer service gestures and haughty Canterlot nobles… All that was something Sunset could sniff out a mile away, like something rotten wrapped in the finest threads and smoothest silk.
Both inside and out, this woman was utterly repulsive. It would take every minutia of Sunset's mask and willpower not to let that show.
"Oh, and you brought Flower, too."
That lilting voice oozed some of its disdain.
Sunset's hackles raised.
"H-hi, mom. This is my friend, Sunset."
In a similar vein, Sunset heard the camouflage in Wallflower's voice. Unlike her own, it was not utilized as an advantage. Wallflower's was a function of survival.
"Oh, Flower has a friend?"
Though the woman smiled, Wallflower flinched at the word Flower. Sunset took heed, adding this to a long list of reasons she would rather not share the same oxygen as the slime smiling before her.
Ignoring Wallflower's obvious discomfort, her mother continued on, putting a hand to her chest. "That's just so wonderful. Nice to meet you, Sunset."
Sunset mustered up her mask and became the gray rock she needed to be. "Hi, nice to meet you."
She stuck out her hand. The woman shook it. Every moment of it was nauseating.
The inside of the house was as well-maintained as the outside. Rather than a pile of bottles, peeling wallpaper, and the scent of mold and decay that Sunset expected, the space was decently clean and clear. A pile of bills on a table near the door, as well as a calendar still turned to last month on the wall beside it, confirmed that its occupant had recently lost track of both finances and time.
"Make yourself at home!" she said, to Sunset only. She gestured towards the living room. "Do you want anything to drink?"
"Just water, please," Sunset said.
She nodded and scurried away into the kitchen. Sunset could see an assortment of wines arranged on a kitchen counter… and harder liquors atop the fridge.
Unacknowledged, Wallflower followed behind her. The two sat on the living room couch. Neither dared reach for the other's hand. Too risky.
Sunset wanted to anyway. Instead, she went over the details again in her head, and made sure she seemed sufficiently content sitting here.
The slime oozed back into the living room, carrying two glasses of water. She sat one down in front of Sunset. The other remained firm in the woman's grasp. Sunset again acknowledged the gesture with a forced smile and nod before busying herself with sipping at the glass.
Sunset didn't need it. By contrast, Wallflower was always thirsty; she had been offered nothing.
"So, how do you know Flower?"
Sunset clenched her jaw. "We were friends in high school."
"Really?" For the first time, the woman looked directly at Wallflower, then she added, "I didn't realize Flower had any friends."
Sunset wanted to deck her.
Wallflower stared at her shoes.
"Wally is my best friend, actually." A bit of Sunset's venom dripped past the gray rock lodged in her throat. In lieu of blowing this entire conspiracy by either comforting her girlfriend or dropping her mask fully, she added, "I don't know where I'd be without her."
"Well…" Looking between the two, the woman's nauseating smile and deceptive eyes focused once again on Sunset. "Isn't that lovely."
Sunset flexed her fingers against the glass. "It sure is."
After taking a long drink—Sunset wondered if it was just water in there, and not vodka or gin or Celestia-knows-what other poison—the woman said, "Well, this has been a pleasant surprise. It's not often I get those with Flower!"
The chuckle that followed made Sunset's blood boil, and it was then that she knew time was running out. If she had to spend any more time with this person than was absolutely necessary, everything would unravel. Even she had her limits.
Especially when it came to the one person she valued enough to do this in the first place.
Beside her, Wallflower was practically curled into herself, hugging her knees and staring at the floor. From the way she didn't object, didn't try to argue, didn't even speak as she was insulted and demeaned with every cutting sentence, Sunset knew that this had been going on for far, far too long. Maybe longer than Wallflower was willing to admit.
Enough games.
Once the grating laughter died down, Sunset sat up straight and looked her directly in the eye. "Anyway, the reason Wally and I are here is because we have something important to tell you."
She took another drink. "Oh?"
Sunset glanced over at Wallflower. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds, before Wallflower nodded.
Slowly, weakly, fearfully… but it was still the okay Sunset needed.
No backing down now.
Sunset fought the hammering in her chest and took a breath before continuing. "So, I go to CSU with Wally—" she let her name linger, and be known as it should, for a moment—" and I live off-campus. Recently, my—"
"What are you studying?"
"Human services," Sunset spat. She took another calming breath. "Anyway, my roommate moved out, and I'm needing someone to help with the rent. Since I just got Wally a job at the mall where I work, I was thinking— "
"You got Flower a job?" The gasp, hand on what was supposed to be a heart, and smile that followed was beyond sickening. "Oh, that's wonderful! Thank you, Sunset! Flower has been in such a rut, and I've been telling her that a job is just what she needs to start all over."
Without you, Sunset thought.
Sunset nodded. "Anyway, the job pays pretty well. Even if she just works part-time, it's enough to pay the bills. And since we're commuting to school and work already…" She stole one last moment to settle down before finally letting loose. "I decided to offer Wallflower my spare room."
This time, the face staring at them across the room was blank.
Sunset drowned her anxieties in sips of water and tapping fingers on the glass. Wallflower fought hers in the bravest way Sunset had seen tonight: now, she was looking at her, too.
Finally, she acknowledged Wallflower with, "So you're finally moving out?"
Wallflower opened her mouth to speak—
"It's about time."
—and closed it.
Between asking their friends for help—with Wallflower's permission, alongside minimal detail—and her own preparations, Sunset had a move organized within days. Big Mac brought his pickup truck; Applejack and Rainbow Dash helped carry the heavier items; Pinkie baked cookies for everyone, including the monster Wallflower was leaving behind, in order to make the day as joyful as possible. Fluttershy even brought over some flowerpots and soil to Sunset's apartment as a surprise awaiting the new arrival.
The day of the move was a flurry of activity. Sunset did her best to delegate and ensure things were running smoothly. Wallflower mostly kept to Sunset's side, occasionally letting Dash or Mac know that something was fragile or didn't need to go in the truck. Beyond that, she remained silent, passing the time with videos on her phone and the cookies Pinkie had brought.
Towards the end of the day, Sunset whipped out a checklist she had made with Rarity and Twilight's help and went over it with Wallflower. "Okay, did we get everything you wanted to keep out of your room?"
Wallflower leaned against the doorway to the now-barren space, then said, "Yup."
"Alright." Sunset ticked off a few boxes. "Do you have your ID?"
Wallflower crossed her arms. "Mm-hmm."
"Birth certificate?"
"Uh-huh."
"Social security card?"
Wallflower nodded.
Sunset checked off more boxes. "Okay, what about your yearbooks? Any photo albums? Other important documents?" Sunset looked up from the list with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I know I just asked you three things at once."
Wallflower didn't respond.
At the look on her girlfriend's face, Sunset frowned. "Hey…" After a quick glance to verify that they were alone, she took Wallflower's hand in hers. "What's wrong? Did she say something to you?"
"That's just it…" Tears formed in Wallflower's eyes. "She didn't say anything at all."
"What do you mean?"
"I-I guess, just…" Wallflower's voice was scarcely a whisper. "I always hoped that beneath all the things she said and did to me my whole life, she really did care about me. Maybe that was stupid…"
Sunset squeezed her hand. "It's not stupid to want your own mother to love you," she said gently.
"But she doesn't love me, Sunset," Wallflower whimpered. "Maybe she never did. She… she really does just want me gone."
All Sunset could do was hug her.