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It still didn’t feel right. Heather knew it was supposed to but it didn’t. And it wasn’t that there was anything wrong with it. This is what she wanted, after all. This is what she asked for.
It was all she ever wanted. Comfort. Security. That normal life she dreamed about. That normal life that Mac promised her. He never gave her that life. All he ever gave her was more trouble. Too much trouble to even rationalize at this point.
But she got away from it. Got away from him. Got away from Alpha Flight. Got away from all of those things that were hurting her. All of those things that she wanted to just erase from her mind. Why couldn’t she just erase it from her mind? Surely there was someone she could ask. A telepath with a less strict moral code. Some sort of mad scientist, Wanda might know someone. Not that she’d help her with that problem.
It was a foolish thought. One that wasn’t even worth thinking about. Not that she was ever that serious about it. She was smart enough not to mess with that sort of thing. Besides, they were trying to leave that life of superheroes behind them.
That thought might be even more ridiculous. They both knew that they could never really leave it behind. But they were still trying. Found some semi-rural town. A nice one. One with people that wouldn’t stare at them like they had two heads. One that had a nice house for sale. A nice house for a decent price with a nice sunny yard. The yard had to be sunny.
And they found one. It was a bit of a fixer upper but it was too nice to say no to. Two stories with some historic charm. A bigger yard than she ever had before. A river sitting right on the edge of it. It was perfect. They agreed on that. A perfect place to start a new life. A quiet life.
But it still didn’t feel right. Heather didn’t know why it didn’t feel right. There wasn’t any specific reason. If it was, then she could fix it and it would be fine. If it was the color of the living room, she could paint it. If it was the yard, then she could neglect the rest of the house and she could fix it.
But there wasn’t anything wrong, it just felt wrong. A sinking feeling that none of this was going to help her. No matter how much hope she had that it was going to work out, she couldn’t shake those thoughts out of her head.
Her old life was not something that they could just walk away from. All those years of fighting villains. Putting everything she had into that team. Representing something that she never wanted to. All because of Mac. All because she loved that man. All because she told herself she loved that man.
Did she ever love him? Was what she felt considered love? As much as it pained her to admit it, she wasted fifteen years of her life living a lie. She threw herself at the first man who gave her a passing glance and never gave it a second thought. And she stayed. Even when she knew it wasn’t right, she stayed.
Why did she stay? Because she was a coward? Because she was too scared that no one else would like her if she left? Because she didn’t know who she was without him? Because it’s been so long that it just felt normal?
Hell, even when he died she still couldn’t leave him. Not fully. The rest of the team tried setting her up on dates once they decided that it’s been enough time. That she’s been sad enough and she was depressing to look at. As if her grief had a timeline. As if she should just get over it. As if another man could fix all of these problems.
But they weren’t right. Her problem was that she wasn’t used to not standing behind someone. Her problem was that she never tried to step up before that fact. Her problem was that she didn’t like sleeping alone at night. Her problem was that she didn’t know how to be a singular person and finding someone else would do nothing but contribute to those problems.
And the more dates she went on, the less sure she was. All she wanted to do was help the team. Replace the leader that they lost. And those men that she sat across wouldn’t help with that goal. And she didn’t like the way they looked at her. And she couldn’t stand the way they talked to her. As if they were doing her a favor by even agreeing to a dinner. As if she should be grateful they’d go so low as to consider her.
She’d try to hide it. Tried to act like she was fine to everyone’s face. Lie and say she had a good time. Convinced everyone that all this effort meant something. Then she’d go up to her room, lock the door, and cry.
She couldn’t help but think that it was her. If she just put some more effort in then they wouldn’t be practically repulsed by her. If she just did her make up or got rid of her giant glasses then they’d fall at her feet. Not that she thought she looked bad. She looked like her. Like she always did. But if it wasn’t something as surface level as her appearance, what was it?
She never really understood what it was that made other people put off by her. She never understood why they’d look at her like she wasn’t getting something obvious. She never understood why those girls at recess would laugh whenever she said something. She never understood why she didn’t have friends, why no one wanted to hang out with her, why she was just too different. All she understood was that she wasn’t normal. All she understood was that there was something repulsive about her that she just couldn’t see.
But she didn’t want to explain that to everyone. She didn’t want to offload every single one of her problems on people who already had full plates. Hell, she already had a full enough plate without dumping more on it. So she tried to push it down. Tried to fit it neatly in a box and put that box somewhere where it didn’t matter. And that worked for her. That worked for everyone else. There was only one person who’d look in the corner and see that box was bulging at the seams with fifty layers of tape trying to hold it together.
It started small. Some nights Heather would be sitting on the couch, reading some book she found at the grocery store. Wanda would sit next to her. Not to ask her about something. Not to pry about how she was doing. Just sat down in the same space she was in with no expectation of anything more.
After so much change, she felt familiar. The only person she felt like she could talk to at times. The only person on the team that wouldn’t dismiss her or demean her. The only person who cared about her beyond the fact she was their leader.
She didn’t have to be the Vindicator with her. She didn’t have to be anyone. She didn’t have to try and impress anyone. She didn’t have to explain exactly what she meant. When her head was on Wanda’s shoulder, she could just be.
And it became something more. That closeness evolved into more than quiet companionship. The lines got blurred and they both willingly crossed it. And it felt nice. It felt better than it ever felt with Mac.
But then he came back and everyone looked at her. Everyone looked at her and expected her to do the same thing. Expected her to disavow everything she felt about Wanda and run back into his arms. Try to put herself back to the place she knew wasn’t made for her.
To their credit, she did go back. Went right back to him. Not because she thought it would feel right. Not because she had forgotten what she felt towards Wanda. Only because she knew what everyone wanted her to do. Only because she was too much of a coward to say no.
And she stayed there. Smiled like she was happy. Ignored that feeling that she was betraying herself because she was too scared of what others would think if she left him for Wanda. Relegated all those feelings for the few nights when she’d go back to her.
She knew it was wrong. She knew that it only hurt everyone. But the only other options were being subjected to the judgement of the entire country or losing Wanda. She’d go back to her and say that she just needed time. Time to get her nerve up and hand him those papers. Find enough courage to cut and run from the only life she’s known for so long by that point.
Wanda was so patient with her. So understanding of everything that Heather was putting her through. Saying that she loved her, that she wanted a life with her and then relegating her to secrecy. And she mistook her patience for tolerance. Her understanding for complacency. And she took that as a reason to never take the steps.
She hurt her. She gave her every reason to cut it off completely. She’d have every reason to laugh in her face when she came back and said that she was leaving him. Despite how Wanda liked to talk about it whenever Heather tried to apologize about it, she knew that it was true.
The truth didn’t change because they left it all behind. The guilt wasn’t expunged with every kiss she gave her when she left for work. In spite of reality, that sinking feeling that she hurt her beyond repair kept creeping back.
No matter what she told herself, it still didn’t feel right. It felt good. She felt loved. Secure and wanted. It should feel right. She wanted this, they both did. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t have any regrets. It wasn’t even that it didn’t live up to her expectations. She didn’t know what it was.
She never thought she’d get to have a rose garden. It was either she didn’t have the money or she didn’t have the time or that the yard wasn’t big enough or that they were renting so what’s the point or why do you care so much. For years, she put it in the box of silly useless dreams. Going to nurseries whenever she had some free time. Whenever she had time for herself that was. Mac always huffed if they went together. Asked what the point was as if she needed a point at all.
She’d walk around and look at all the roses in bloom. Taking pictures of the particularly pretty ones and writing down the names. Picturing where she’d plant them. Smiling at how pretty they’d look when that time of the year came around.
Wanda thought her insistence on a sunny yard was a bit dramatic at first. She could tell that she’d try to hold back a laugh when she said that it was a dealbreaker. Of course, that was before she knew about the roses. About that dream Heather had always put off.
After that, she was more serious about it than Heather was. Looking into the best conditions they could grow in. Finding places with better soil. And it felt nice. And she felt guilty.
She was willing to do so much for her and she had taken her for granted for so long. She’d given her all the grace in the world and it still took until she was at the end of her rope until Heather finally took action. That wasn’t fair to her. She didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t right.
“Hey, honey bun,” Wanda made her jump as she planted a kiss on her cheek. Through all her spiralling thoughts, she didn’t hear her come in. “Did I sneak up on you?”
“Oh, no, you’re fine,” Heather reassured her as her arm draped across her. “How was your day?”
“Better now that I’m back home,” she hummed, leaning into her. “How about you?”
“I was just working on some stuff around the house,” she shrugged, getting a faint waft of her perfume. “The backsplash mainly.”
“Ooh,” she looked over at the kitchen to see those mosaic tiles that were clearly still a work in progress. “They look perfect.”
“They’re only half way done,” she let out a slight laugh. “My hands started cramping, I have to finish them some time over the weekend.”
“Well, there’s no rush,” Wanda reassured her as she walked towards the coat closet to put her things away.
“Except there is because we can’t use the counters until I’m done,” she argued. It was more trouble than it was worth. All that effort for something that was only aesthetic. She didn’t even know why she decided to do it right now when the master bathroom sink was still giving them trouble.
“Oh noo, we can’t cook tonight? The absolute horror!” She joked which made Heather roll her eyes. “I’ll help you tomorrow but we’re lucky that we won’t have to use those counters until then.”
“Oh yeah…” Through all those circles she thought herself into today she had forgotten all about their plans. The ones that she had agreed to a week ago. Going to that pizza place downtown and seeing that movie Wanda was talking about. God, she couldn’t even remember the name of it.
“Are you feeling okay?” Her face changed to one of concern as she walked back over to her.
“I’m fine, babe,” she tried to dismiss her concern. “The day got away from me. I just have to get ready and everything.”
“Heather, we don’t have to go if you don’t feel up to it,” she took her spot next to her on the couch.
“No, I promise I’m fine,” she tried to get up but Wanda grabbed her hand. “You don’t have to worry about me. I just got to–”
“You don’t seem fine,” she insisted, gently pulling her back down on the couch. “Please, just tell me what’s going on.”
“Nothing’s going on,” she denied it again. “You’ve been talking about it all week, I don’t want to ruin it for you.”
“You’re not ruining anything, honey,” Wanda squeezed her hand. “I don’t care about going out. I know that there’s something bothering you.”
“It’s nothing,” Heather repeated herself. “I don’t want you to think that–”
“Hey, we said we’d talk, right?” She reminded her. “It’s obvious that something’s going on, please, just tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong,” she finally admitted as Wanda. “I don’t even know what I’m feeling. I don’t know how to explain it but everything just feels wrong and I don’t know why. And it’s confusing and frustrating because I want this. It’s all I ever wanted but I can’t go a day without feeling dread and I can’t–”
“Slow down a bit,” she moved closer to her. “What do you mean it feels wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she repeated as the tears started to prick at the corner of her eyes. “I can’t explain it. It’s not that I regret this because I don’t. I mean, I love you and I want to be with you and this is everything I’ve ever wanted but every time I look out the window I just– I don’t know.”
“You know, you don’t have to be fine all the time,” Wanda reminded her, wiping a tear that was falling down her cheek. “It’s a big change. You’re allowed to have a rough time with it. I never expected that we’d just snap into position immediately. It hasn’t even been a month since we moved in.”
“I know that,” she leaned onto her shoulder. The only place she’s felt safe for a long time. “I just feel like I should be happy. I mean, I am happy. I wouldn’t change a thing but all I can think about is what happened.”
“I don’t want you to beat yourself up about it,” she shook her head. “What happened happened. The only thing dwelling on it is going to do is make you feel guilty about something–”
“I don’t know how to stop feeling guilty,” Heather interrupted her. “I know that we’ve talked about it and you’re not holding it against me but that doesn’t change the fact that I hurt you. No matter what either of us say, it won’t change that.”
“You’re right, nothing will change what happened,” she pulled her tighter against her. “You can’t change how things turned out, I can’t change the way I hid how I felt, we can’t fix everything that got caught in the crossfire. All we can do is keep going forward.”
“What you did isn’t comparable to what I did,” that was her whole issue. She didn’t treat Wanda like she mattered until she cracked. She was selfish and a coward. Even now, she could only think about what she felt. She could only remember how she went home and cried until she threw up. She could only remember how she had a panic attack when she was parked outside that lawyer’s office. She could only remember how foolish she felt when she told her that she was leaving him.
And she could only remember how she hugged her. As if all was forgiven. As if all those years of relegating her to secrecy didn’t matter anymore. If she was being honest or pretending, she didn’t know. All she knew is that every time Wanda pushed it under the bridge it made it harder for her to pretend.
“I’m not keeping score,” she kissed her forehead. “And I know I can’t change what you feel about it, all I can do is tell you that it doesn’t matter to me. It doesn’t matter because I love you and I chose to forgive you.”
She didn’t deserve her forgiveness. She didn’t deserve to have a shoulder to cry on. She didn’t deserve this house or that rose garden. She didn’t deserve the woman who was so willing to her grace that she could never give herself.
She deserved to be alone. It would only be right considering how many people she ended up hurting. She hurt Mac and she hurt the team and she burned every single bridge she had ever crossed. It seems like all she ever knew how to do was cut and run. Run so fast that no one had the chance to catch up. Run away from all the consequences. Run until she had nothing that reminded her of everything she was running from.
But she couldn’t run from Wanda. She couldn’t leave and forget about the pain she had caused. She couldn’t dismiss her attempts to reach out. And with all that, she couldn’t pretend that her problems didn’t exist anymore. It was harder to lie to someone who cared.
“The garden’s going to look so pretty in bloom,” Wanda shifted the conversation away after a minute or two of silence.
“I don’t know, they’re still young,” Heather sighed, looking out the window at those scraggly bushes they planted last week. Barely starting to bud. “It’s going to be a few years until they grow out of that awkward teenager stage.”
“It’s still going to be pretty,” she hummed. “And it will only get prettier every single year. That's the good part about plants like that.”
She was right, Heather supposed. She just needed to give them time. Even if it didn’t look like everything she ever dreamed about now, come May the roses will bloom and she won’t even remember how sparse they looked in that moment. All the colors, just where she planned them to be. The exact varieties that she had coveted for years. Well, and another one.
She didn’t like them at first. Her vision was more traditional. Reds, pinks, and whites. When Wanda walked over with one that described itself as silvery lilac, she immediately shot them down. It was too out there. It wasn’t what she imagined.
But Wanda liked them. Despite the fact they weren’t even budding and the only reference for the color was a sunfaded picture, she said that they were her favorite. She put them on that flat cart despite Heather’s protests. Called her The Queen of Hearts too for dramatic effect. Leaving her with all the work to find out where they’d fit in her vision.
Not with the dramatic reds or the bright pinks. No, they wouldn’t compliment those. They’d stick out like a sore thumb next to the soft, pure whites she grabbed. But she couldn’t just leave them out on the edge of the garden. Away from all the other roses. That wouldn’t be fair to them. It wouldn’t be fair to Wanda.
She turned the already full cart around and headed back to the pink section. Looking for something different than the ones that she had previously grabbed. Something paler. More muted. Something that would make those Blue Girls look like they belonged.
Of course, Wanda laughed at her determination to make something she didn’t even want in the first place fit into her vision. Maybe there was something comedic about it. She’d walked past those roses hundreds of times at this point and never gave them a passing glance. But those hundreds of times were before Wanda said that she liked them.
“We can still go to the movie if you want,” Heather offered, looking up at her to see she was still looking out the window.
“Nah, the reviews aren’t that good anyway,” she let out a soft sigh.
“Well, people don’t know art when it’s staring them in the face,” she shrugged. “I know you really wanted to see it, babe.”
“I wasn’t excited to see the movie, I was excited to spend time with you,” Wanda planted a kiss on her forehead. “How about this: We order in, we put on a movie and we don’t leave the couch for the rest of the night.”
“And what movie?” She asked, scooting closer as if it was possible.
“Luckily we have so many to choose from because someone was smart enough to see the value of a John Waters boxset.”
“When are you gonna stop mentioning the boxset?” Heather laughed.
“When you admit that it’s a good investment,” Wanda rolled her eyes.
“I never said it wasn’t!” She defended herself as her girlfriend got up to grab her phone from the console table.
“Yeah, but you laugh every time,” even if she was trying not to, she couldn’t hold back a smile. “And I’m sorry, Heather, but there’s nothing funny about appreciating queer cinema.”
“Oh, whatever,” she got up off the couch too. She’d been sitting too long and started to feel restless. Mac always made fun of her tendency to walk laps around the kitchen. Said that it weirded him out whenever she did it. Wanda didn’t seem to notice. If she did, she didn’t mind.
The kitchen window had a better view of the rose bushes. They were starting to show their colors day by day. The petals were pushing their way out of the buds. Even if it didn’t immediately beat those expectations she had built up over years of dreaming, she knew that it would.
All it would take was some care. A good watering regime and a healthy diet of rose food. And it would take some time. One day she’d look out the window and she wouldn’t feel that tinge of disappointment because this was what she wanted.
The house wouldn’t have twenty things that needed her attention. The garden would be in full bloom. She wouldn’t think about everything that happened before. She’d be here, living the life she always wanted, with Wanda by her side.
She looked out at those two bushes next to each other. Flanked on either side by those dramatic reds and vibrant pinks and soft whites. The pale pink and silvery lilac she decided to plant front and center.
She hadn’t told Wanda where she planted them. Put them in the ground when she was at work. Of course, Wanda teased her and theorized that she must’ve put them as far away from her roses as possible.
It would only be a few weeks until they started to bloom. Only a matter of time before their true location was revealed. Front and center. No doubt that they belonged. No doubt that they mattered. No doubt that they were right where they were meant to be.