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.
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Wally, Nooooo! Don't give in!
And this is the chapter that gets me beyond just being excited for what comes next. With one of my favorite types of characterizations for Wallflower, no less! Like a hauntingly relatable car crash in slow motion (which is a good thing in my book.)
Dammit, I just wanna hug her. Stop being self-deprecating, Wally!
Seriously, though, that first scene? Oof.
I was basically expecting a flare up of insecurity for Wallflower, but this is even worse than I thought it would be.
And I'm speculating that this is another story with semi-autobiographical elements in it. If so, I'm sorry to hear that you ever felt even remotely like this.
Ah hell, I thought this was the case. Sauron impersonated Sunset Shimmer and presented Wally with a ring that, in secret, bound her will to his. Soon she will wither into a wraith and stalk the land endlessly, a thrall to her new dark master, until the world is changed and magic things no longer roam the wilds.
Still, better him than her mother.
This manages to be both medieval and nautical at the same time. It’s medautical.
cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/395396915107463169/1075637051925483570/hqdefault.png
Sunset just had to propose on the winter solstice.
Gaslighting the girlboss as a means of gatekeeping. How cunning.
Does Wally not have a license, or does she take public transit so as not to contribute to carbon emissions and climate change?
I’m a big fan of language personifying hunger as, itself, hungry.
Wally should feed it hemborger.
If this be madness, yet there be method to it, etc. etc.
It’s nice that Wally is trying to construct a rational plan to do something incredibly irrational and self-destructive, but I wish she would put that clear-minded and orderly thinking toward some kind of more noble goal, like accepting that she is worthy of love and marriage (which, I am told, go together like a... like a carriage and something else, I forget).
It’ll be interesting to see how she undergoes her journey from self-destructive to self-acceptance, and ascends to her final form: Wally With a Ring On It.
Wally, you need a hug.
From the most pernicious of premises unwilling or unable to invalidate, the situational snowball seed falls. Effective portrayal of falling into that pit and churning in it. If Wally only sat down and talked through these feelings with Sunset... well, there wouldn't be this drama, anyway!
I admit to being inadequately versed in the imagery to draw any connections, but I must comment that referencing Florence + The Machine songs in the chapter titles has not gone unnoticed.
11507813
oh man I'm so excited now you have no idea
Good stuff. I should not have read this at 2 AM... The realistic depictions of depression were a little too strong for my tired and feeble mind. Here's hoping that the lack of a tragedy tag actually means this turns around for the better.
And your depiction of mental illness is hauntingly accurate as well. The way the brain can turn on itself is scary, and I'm just glad this is a Wallflower that has been through therapy otherwise this could be much worse. I'm definitely in, even if this is probably going to be emotionally taxing just to read.
Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
:(
God, this was a difficult one. The feeling of worthlessness is something I struggle with here and there and Wally noooo.
That's a lot of self-hatred you go goin' on there, Wally. I really don't like seeing it. I get it, though. The idea of not wanting to drag someone down with you is very real if you struggle with self-esteem.
Now, the big question is, how is she actually going to accomplish this? Becoming a selfish bitch like the ending suggests is honestly harder than she may realize. I wonder how much of herself she's going to lose in the process. More than she bargained for, surely.
I knew the last chapter was just luring me into a false sense of security. Poor Wally.