The Monday morning following the move, Sunset Shimmer woke to find Wallflower Blush was already out of bed. This discovery was a relief at first.
After everything had been moved in, Wallflower had spent the remainder of the weekend lying on the couch or in bed. Sometimes there were tears; sometimes there weren't. Through it all, Wallflower had hardly moved or spoken or done anything. It was only at Sunset's insistence that she had eaten or drank—barely—or slept. Or tried to.
Now, with the sun rising over the horizon, Sunset changed out of her pajamas upstairs. Once she was ready to face both the day and her girlfriend, she made her way downstairs, careful to dodge the creakier floorboards.
As she reached the living room, she saw Wallflower sitting on the couch, her back to Sunset. The TV was on, though Sunset couldn't recognize what was playing. In any case, she greeted her with a smile. "Good morning, Wally."
"...Hi," came the reply, quiet and stiff as Wallflower herself. She hadn't turned from the TV.
Sunset took a seat beside her on the couch. "Anything good on?"
Wallflower shrugged.
"Everything okay?" Sunset asked gently.
"I don't know," Wallflower mumbled, sighing.
"What's wrong?"
"Just…" Squeezing her eyes shut, Wallflower visibly struggled not to cry. "She just wanted me gone."
Sunset started to reply, but thought better of it. Thankfully, Wallflower continued on before she could interject anyway.
"She probably wouldn't even care how it happened, so long as she didn't have to put up with me anymore." Wallflower fidgeted with the sleeves of her sweater. "She probably thought, 'Good riddance,' when you told her I was moving out. She couldn't care less." Each word seemed as painful as it was true.
"I'm so sorry, Wally." Sunset let her hand rest beside Wallflower's, but didn't press further. "What can I do to help you right now?"
"I don't know." Wallflower looked away. "Sorry."
"You don't have to be sorry for that," Sunset said.
"But I never know," Wallflower sighed. "I hate never being able to give you an answer."
"I know." Sunset paused, searching for the right words. While she didn't want to force Wallflower to do anything in a vain attempt to try and feel better—school was definitely off the table for both of them today, at least until Wally was able to get off the couch of her own volition—she also didn't want to leave her feeling useless… or bad about feeling useless.
"Okay," Sunset began after some time, "how about we start working on getting you a therapy appointment? Do you think that would help?"
"We've talked about this, Sunset. I can't afford that and I'm not about to let you pay for it."
"Well, I was doing some research on the school's website this weekend, and it turns out there is a free counseling program for students." Sunset offered her a small smile. "There might be a bit of a wait, but we could get that going for you today."
"...Maybe," Wallflower replied after a moment. "I don't think I can talk to anyone else right now though."
"That's okay. I can make the call for you, if you're alright with that."
"Okay. Sure, I guess." Slowly, Wallflower looked back at Sunset, who responded with a nod. "Thank you," she added, finally brushing her hand against Sunset's.
Lacing her fingers with Wallflower's, Sunset said, "Of course. I'll call them after I get us some breakfast, if that's okay."
"...Pancakes?" Wallflower asked, sounding hopeful.
Sunset grinned. "As many as you want."
"...And just what the heck is an imaginary number, anyway?" Rainbow Dash threw her arms in the air. "How was I supposed to know they just decided to, like, keep making up numbers? Isn't math already hard enough?"
"Uh-huh."
"And don't get me started on the quad-pathetic formula or whatever it's supposed to be!"
"Yeah."
Crossing her arms, Dash rolled her eyes. "Ugh, I swear that adding the freakin' alphabet to math was the lamest thing ever. How am I supposed to keep up with that?"
Muttering another noncommittal reply, Sunset stared at the same line of the math textbook she had read several times over. The words seemed to blur and jumble before her tired eyes. Her mind filtered out the Math 92 textbook just as it did Rainbow Dash's latest rant. Although the two were supposed to be studying again today, the scene was more of lecturer and lecturee than friends working together.
A rolled-up wad of paper smacked Sunset on the forehead. "Hey! What was that for?!"
"Uh, hell-o?!" Dash facepalmed. "You're supposed to be helping me learn this extra credit stuff so that I can actually pass this class and move on with my life!"
Sunset rubbed at her forehead, glaring at Dash. "Well, I'm sorry you decided to stay up all night playing video games before your final instead of going over the material like I told you to!"
"Who are you, my mom?"
"No," Sunset snapped, "thank Goddess."
"Pffffft, puh-lease!" Dismissing her with a wave of her hand, Dash kicked her dirty soccer cleats up on the table—which had been the nicest and cleanest in the library. "You would be lucky to be my mom, and we both know it."
Sunset buried her face in the textbook, groaning. "I don't have time for this shit right now, Dash!" With an exasperated sigh, she looked up at her through narrowed eyes. "If you're not going to take this seriously, I'm going home!"
"If I'm not going to take this seriously?" Dash scoffed. "You were twenty minutes late, forgot to bring your notes, and barely paid attention to a word I've said!" She matched Sunset's glare with one of her own. "If you don't want to help me, don't waste my time either, Sunset! I might not have gotten the 'A' you were hoping for—"
Sunset rolled her eyes at that.
"—But I was close enough that the prof is willing to let me squeak by if I can finish this crap!" She gestured to the stack of extra credit assignments beside her, almost knocking them over.
Once the dust cleared, Dash heaved a sigh, shaking her head. "Sorry, I'm just… Really worried about this." She drummed her fingers on the table. "I need to maintain a 3.0 GPA to stay on the team, and this is the last thing standing in my way."
"...You're right." Sighing in turn, Sunset closed the textbook. "I'm sorry, Dash. I really do want to help you. It's just…"
When Sunset fell silent, Dash filled in the blanks. "Wallflower's not doing too hot, huh?"
Unsure of just how much she should confide in her friends about this, Sunset struggled to find a reply. To her surprise, Dash didn't press further, waiting patiently while Sunset thought it over.
"She's just… having a hard time with everything," Sunset settled on saying. "Getting her out of there was the first step, but it wasn't a cure-all."
"Well, what's left? Did we forget something?" Dash's eyes flashed red for a second. "Is her mom bothering her?"
"No… and that's the problem. Her mom hasn't said anything since we told her Wally was moving out. Nothing at all."
"Wasn't that what Wallflower wanted?" Dash asked. "How's that a problem?"
"Think about it, Dash. Even if your parents were total jerks—"
"Saying her mom was a jerk is putting it lightly."
"Okay, even if your parents were awful people," Sunset corrected, "if you moved out and they literally had nothing to say—no goodbyes, no 'I'll miss you,' just… nothing at all, wouldn't that make you feel crappy?"
It took a moment, but Dash, her eyes widening, mumbled, "Oh."
"Exactly. And it's got Wally really, really down, and… I… I-I don't know what to do." Willing herself to keep it together, Sunset took a long, slow breath. "I tried getting her into counseling at the student health center, but the soonest appointment is a month out. That's not enough." Sunset stared down at the table. "My girlfriend is miserable and I can't do anything to fix it."
"Hey... C'mon." Reaching across the table, Dash patted her on the shoulder. "You've done a lot already. You got her out of there, Sunset. You gave her a safe place—a home. That's huge." Dash offered her an encouraging smile. "And you've got an appointment set up and everything already. That's really awesome of you."
"...You're right," Sunset admitted, "but… I just wish I could do more."
Seated across from Sunset, Rainbow Dash's brows knit together and furrowed. The pensive look on her face rivaled that of any Sunset had seen when the math textbook was open.
"Okay… Here's what you do." Dash cleared her throat. "You said you got a month until she sees this therapist or whatever, right?" When Sunset nodded, Dash continued, "Until then, just try and get her to have some fun. Take her to a movie, get ice cream at midnight, whatever. Maybe do some fun things with her that she's always wanted to do, but was never allowed to."
As much as Sunset loved all of her friends, she had never known Rainbow Dash to be a particularly consistent dispenser of good advice. However, as she mulled over her suggestion, a hopeful smile slowly replaced her frown.
"Yeah… You're right. That's what I should do." Meeting her gaze, Sunset added, "Thanks, Dash. Sorry I wasn't the best tutor today."
Dash dismissed her with a wave. "Eh, don't worry about it. I was too pissed off to get much studying done anyhow. Let's pick it up tomorrow, yeah?"
"Sure, but I got work at five, so it'll have to be a short session."
"That's fine."
With that, they began gathering their bags. As they headed for the door, Dash poked Sunset in the shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing…"
"Yeah?"
Dash grinned. "Definitely do the ice cream at midnight thing at least once."
When Sunset returned home, she saw that, while Wallflower's demeanor had remained the same, she had at least moved from the couch to the bed. Cuddling with her girlfriend may not have been the remedy to the dark thoughts swirling in her mind, but it helped. Just a little.
"You're warm," Wallflower whispered, snuggled up against Sunset's side.
"Mmm, you too." Sunset tightened her grip around Wallflower's waist, who hummed in approval.
Though the room was dark, the moon held back by the blackout curtains on Sunset's window, she could see the hint of a smile that followed. Sunset smiled in turn. While she wasn't going to sleep on the idea she had in the forefront of her mind, she didn't need to bring it up just yet.
For some time, the two let the silence speak, relishing the closeness and comfort between them. The only sound was the occasional passing car on Sunset's street. Other than that, all she could hear was Wallflower's breathing as it slowed from its stressed, anxious rhythm to a calm rise and fall. When her own soon started to match it, she realized it was time.
"Hey, Wally?"
"Mhm?"
After a brief pause, Sunset asked, "What weren't you allowed to do when you were living with your mom?"
Wallflower shifted. "It'd be easier to list what I was allowed to do."
Sunset flinched. "Ah…"
"Sorry. I know that's probably not what you wanted to hear."
"No, no, it's okay." Sunset drew Wallflower in closer, letting her rest against the crook of her neck. "More what I meant was… Was there ever anything that you wanted to do that she didn't let you do?"
"Like what?"
"I dunno… Stay out late, eat cookies for breakfast, that kind of thing?"
Sunset felt Wallflower let out a long, slow, warm breath against her neck before answering. "Curfew was six-thirty, always, even when I was still in high school. Assuming Mom hadn't blacked out before I got home. I wasn't allowed to keep my phone in my room, and she would read through my text messages every once in a while."
Sunset's brow furrowed.
"I've never had coffee or caffeinated soda. No caffeine at all, ever. Obviously no smoking or drinking—even though I wouldn't want to. Gross. And even though she was polishing off a handle every week by the end. No loud music. No friends over… though that was never a problem anyway," she added with a bitter sigh.
Sunset cringed.
"No plants in the house, because one time I got some dirt on the carpet. No pets. I found a stray kitten and brought it home when I was a little girl, and she made me give it away. No visiting my dad… but I don't think he even lives in this state anymore. I don't know."
Maybe this hadn't been the best idea. Sunset was about to interrupt, but Wallflower continued on. Hopefully this would at least be cathartic for her.
"No skipping school, no TV that wasn't mom-approved, no R-rated movies. And absolutely no boys allowed. Never ever. Not that I ever wanted to. Yuck." Even in the darkness, Sunset could see Wallflower gag.
With a slight giggle, Sunset said, "Girls are way better anyway."
"Oh, and no swearing either." Wallflower tensed in Sunset's arms. "The first time she hit me was when I broke that rule."
Sunset hugged her close. "That's awful, Wally."Â
Wallflower shrugged. "I guess so. Anyway, does that—" a yawn punctuated her dismissal— "answer your question?"
Although the obvious answer was yes, Sunset thought it over before responding. Dash had suggested doing fun things with Wallflower until the day of the appointment; Sunset had asked Wallflower this question tonight thinking the answers would be easy distractions to tackle.
Before the silence stretched for too long, Sunset ran through what Wallflower had told her as quickly as her sleep-addled mind could. Caffeinated soda, a lack of a curfew, and as much TV as Wallflower wanted were too easy. A new pet might seem like a nice gesture, but extra responsibilities were the last thing Wallflower needed right now. There must be something…
"Sunset?"
"Sorry, was just thinking about something." Turning to face her, Sunset finally replied, "Yes, Wally, that does answer it. And now I have a question for you."
"What's that?"
"Would you be willing…" Sunset paused to yawn in turn, then finished, "To try saying a swear word?"
Immediately, Wallflower tensed again. "I-I don't think I want to do that. Why would I want to do that?" she asked, instantly sounding on edge.
"It's just an idea. You don't have to." Sunset's first priority was to diffuse the tension that had sprang within a second at the mere thought of breaking a "rule". However, she wasn't just going to let it go completely. "But—"
"But what?" Wallflower snapped. "How's that supposed to help me?"
Thinking over what little understanding she had, Sunset sought to approach this from the angle of chipping away, pebble by pebble, at the impenetrable rock walls that had been forced around Wallflower for as long as she could remember. Doing so would not unravel the wicked, twisted, tangled thread of traumas and pains and injustices she had suffered, nor "cure" the resultant PTSD that she was certain it had caused.
But it was a start, and if there was anything that Wallflower Blush deserved, it was a start. A fresh one, a new one, on her own terms.
"...Hear me out." Sunset took Wallflower's hand in her own. "You've been controlled by this one person your entire life. And now you're not. But there's a difference between knowing that and feeling it, right? And I don't want you to feel like she can hurt you anymore." Sunset took a breath. "Because she can't. Never again."
Through the darkness, Sunset could see her words sink in. Several times, Wallflower seemed like she was going to say something, only to decide against it. A while passed before she finally spoke up, her words barely above a whisper:
"...I'll think about it."
With a small smile, Sunset squeezed her hand and rested her head atop her girlfriend's. "Okay."
Soon, the silence resumed. This time, it didn't seem quite as loud.
The next day, Wallflower was feeling okay enough to go back to campus. Although Sunset took it as a good sign, she knew better than to assume that meant that everything was fine now. Still, she enjoyed commuting to campus together, as well as their shared lunch break and little string of text messages between classes.
After school, Sunset knocked out a quick study session with Rainbow Dash—who did more listening than complaining this time—and a short work shift at the mall. By the time she got home, it was almost nine o'clock.
When Sunset opened their front door to find Wallflower sitting on the couch, a box of pizza and a few cans of soda arranged in front of her, Sunset beamed.
"Oooh, good choice," Sunset remarked, eying the logo on the box. She took her seat beside Wallflower and pulled out a generous slice.
"I know it was my turn to make dinner, but… I wasn't really feeling it," Wallflower admitted, looking sheepish.
"Hey, no need to be sorry." Sunset kissed her on the cheek, then handed Wallflower a slice of her own. "We both had a long day, so let's just have some pizza and watch something fun. Does that sound good to you?"
A small smile replaced Wallflower's frown. "Okay, sure. You pick this time."
Together, the two worked their way through the pizza and Sunset's choice of TV show. It was horribly cheesy, sometimes rivaling the pizza at moments, but it was the kind of light, goofy fun that both of them needed after a long day.
Once the pizza had been devoured and the sodas downed, Sunset stretched out on the couch, kicking her boots off. Without a word, Wallflower curled up against Sunset, her back to her girlfriend's chest, and did the same. The couple sat that way, Sunset's arms around Wallflower, Wallflower's fingers entwined with hers, long after the TV screen went black and the last bits of cheese in the box grew cold.
"So how was class today?" Sunset asked, breaking the silence, but not their cuddle.
"It was okay."
Sunset thought she heard a bit of anxiety in Wallflower's voice. "Do you have a lot of make-up work to do since you missed yesterday?"
"Not really."
"Oh." Sunset hummed thoughtfully. "Well, that's good."
"Mhm."
Maybe it was her imagination, but Sunset still thought Wallflower sounded a bit off. "Did any of your professors give you a hard time about being absent?"
Wallflower shook her head.
"Well… that's good." Puzzled, Sunset decided to shrug it off. Nothing else immediately came to mind as to what could be wrong. Perhaps she really was just imagining it.
Minutes ticked by as they laid there on the couch, Sunset enjoying the warmth and calm, Wallflower appearing to do the same. Though it was barely past ten, Sunset was already feeling a little tired. If they laid like this for much longer, she might fall asleep holding her like this…
"...Mmmrf…"
Sunset opened her eyes. "Did you say something, babe?"
Wallflower didn't answer.
Sunset sat up a bit. "Hon?"
"...I want to," Wallflower said.
"Want to what?"
"Say something."
This time, Sunset adjusted her position so she could look down at Wallflower. "Say what, hon? Is something wrong?"
Wallflower released Sunset's hands, fidgeting with her own instead. "I—I've been thinking about what you said last night."
"Oh… The swearing thing?"
Wallflower nodded.
"Oh. Okay." Sunset asked in an even tone, "Do you want to try saying it now?"
Again, Wallflower nodded. She didn't say anything else.
"Alright, well…" Sunset reached for Wallflower's hands. Then, she gently laced their fingers back together. "I'm here if there's anything I can do to help you with this. I know it won't be easy, so take your time."
"Should I just…" Wallflower trailed off. "Should I just say it?"
"If you want."
Sunset could see Wallflower visibly struggle with her simple answer. Rather than give another suggestion, she waited for her to say what was paining her.
"I don't know how to do this," Wallflower said at last. "I know that sounds really stupid, but… I just don't know how to do this." She untangled their hands so she could hug herself somewhat. "It's just… really uncomfortable to think about saying it."
"It's just the two of us here right now." Choosing her words carefully, Sunset tried her best to be soothing. "No one else even needs know about it."
A slow sigh later, Wallflower gave a short nod, and Sunset watched as a grimace spread across her girlfriend's face. Wallflower's eyes closed, her breaths growing heavier and sharper as mounting strain and focus etched themselves into her expression… only for it to come crashing down moments later.
"I-I can't." Wallflower spoke softly, as if to herself. "I can't. I can't do this, Sunset, I..." She pounded her arms against the couch in a huff. "I don't know! This should be s-so easy and I still can't do it and it just makes me feel so stupid—!"
"Wally, Wally, hey…" Sunset pulled her into a hug, fingers running through her hair. "Be fair to yourself, okay? Of course this isn't easy. The last time you did this, someone hurt you, and it's scary. I know it feels scary."
Wallflower hugged Sunset back, face buried in her shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whimpered.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Sunset assured her. "And if you don't want to do this, that's—"
"But I do!" Wallflower's voice cracked. "I do want to, it's just… It's like you said. It scares me…"
"I know," Sunset said. "I get why you're scared. I really do. If I'd lived through the things your mom said and did to you, I'd be scared too. But she's not here, Wally."
Sunset settled her hands on Wallflower's shoulders, sharing every ounce of steely determination she could.
"She can't hurt you anymore, and you can say whatever the fuck you want."
With those words echoing in her ears, Sunset let Wallflower go. Whether or not she was going to do this—now or ever—Sunset was steadfast in her desire to be there for her. The time for advice and encouragement had passed. Now, it was Wallflower's decision.
Gradually, Wallflower moved her gaze from the floor to Sunset's. She reached for Sunset's hands, then held them tight. After locking eyes with Sunset, Wallflower closed hers. She took a deep breath.
"Ffffffffff…"
When Wallflower stopped, Sunset just smiled and rubbed her fingers over Wallflower's palms.
Without a word, Wallflower took another breath, then closed her eyes again. "Ffffffffffffffffffffff…"Â
Now she was squeezing Sunset's hands. Her surprisingly strong grip was turning both their knuckles white.
Wallflower held the note for a few seconds longer, then opened her eyes. Her chest heaved with distressed, staccato breath. Sunset was about to say something when Wallflower, her eyes open, her hands shaking, finally said:
"Fuck."
In an instant, Wallflower's eyes lit up, a bright smile crossed her face, and Sunset could see the weight lift from her shoulders.
"Fuck," Wallflower said again.
Sunset grinned from ear to ear.
"Fuck!" Wallflower exclaimed.
In spite of herself, Sunset started to giggle. As Wallflower continued, saying the word louder and louder, to the point that she was almost shouting, giggles morphed into full-blown belly laughs. Sure enough, Wallflower was also laughing between expletives, and the two eventually collapsed into a heap of giggles and tangled hands on the couch.
Once their laughter died down—and they remembered to breathe—Sunset asked, "Do you feel better?"
And Wallflower, smiling more than Sunset had seen in days, answered, "I sure fucking do."