Chapter Text
HEATHER
On any other occasion, Heather would have complained about the mud ruining her shoes. But now, her dirty loafers are the least of her problems, she has much bigger things to worry about, like trying to salvage the most important relationship in her life.
She closes the car door, locking it behind her, but she doesn't move, her legs seemed to have stopped working -which makes sense, given that she's been driving for the past two days - she leans on the car and takes a deep breath to steady herself. She is standing just a few feet away from the Sawyer's cabin, a place she had never been to before, despite her three-year relationship with Veronica. From the outside, she can see that the house isn't big or eccentric, just a simple two-story log cabin, leaning more towards cozy place in the woods to get some "me" time than creepy house where teenagers get killed in a horror movie, which is Heather's usual opinion on cabins.
The lights are on, and she sees Veronica's car parked in front of the porch. She's here. Heather takes another deep breath, the humid air filling up her nostrils. This is it. She drove 36 hours from Seattle to Ohio, she peed in dirty gas station bathrooms, she was forced to replace two tires during a goddamed storm, and almost crashed her car dozens of times for this exact moment. Now, all she has to do is walk to the front porch and knock on the door. Veronica feels so close and so far away at the same time.
She looks down at her hands, she hadn't realized she was fiddling with her wedding band, twirling it around her finger, until now, a habit of hers for whenever she's nervous. Heather shoves her hands into the front pockets of her jeans to stop herself, and starts to make her way toward the house. During the short walk, she tries not to focus on the thoughts running wild inside her head, or on the fact that the fate of her marriage depends on what she is about to say to Veronica, instead, she chooses to focus on the sound of leaves crushing against her shoes, the soft rain hitting the ground the crickets chirping, hidden somewhere along the trees and a distant, shrill sound coming from inside the house. Is someone drilling in there?
A second later, at exactly 6:50 p.m., the inevitable comes and she finds herself standing in front of the door. "Veronica," she says softly after knocking on the door. No response. "I know you're there, can we talk, please?" The drilling stops, and for a second Heather thinks Veronica is going to open the door but nothing happens. "I can hear you on the other side of the door, so you might as well just let me in."
Suddenly, she feels a sting on her forearm, and automatically slaps herself, and when she looks at her hand there's a dead mosquito crushed on it. "Mosquitoes, fun..." she mumbles, the inconvenience distracting her for two seconds until she remembers her actual goal.
"Veronica, open the door, please! I know that you are upset, and you have every right to be. I messed up, so fucking bad. So I'm here to make things right because you deserve to know the truth, to know me, the actual me, even now as you're trying your damndest to let me go," Heather says, her mouth dry. The harsh sight of the closed door in front of her hurts, but through the gap between the door and the floor, she can see a shadow, and she can feel Veronica's presence on the other side, listening. That gives her a little bit of hope to keep going. "You have a thousand reasons not to trust me because you don't know who I am, but for whatever is worth I also have no fucking clue as to who I actually am. All I know is that I love you and that I'm not leaving until you hear me out," the words come pouring out of her mouth, like a river breaking a dam. It's humiliating. Heather Chandler doesn't grovel, she doesn't beg for forgiveness. She's never felt so fragile before. But if that is what she has to do to win Veronica back, then so be it. "Also I have to pee really bad," she continues. " And there are mosquitoes everywhere, I'm pretty sure they're gonna eat me alive if I stay out here for too long."
Silence. Time seems to slow down as Heather stares at the door, her hopes dwindling with every second that passes. Heather feels her eyes starting to sting as she comes to the realization that maybe Veronica won't open the door, and that they will be over for real. That is until she hears the lock turning, and the door slowly opening to reveal none other than runaway wife herself, Veronica Sawyer.
"I'm only letting you in so you don't get eaten alive," Veronica says, dryly, a stark contrast to the way she usually talks to Heather, so calm and lovingly. Heather is still not used to the fact that things have changed between them, maybe forever, and it's all her fault. Veronica doesn't look Heather in the eyes, showing more interest in her socks instead, and she seems to be having an internal debate about whether she should or not step aside for Heather to enter. The sight of Veronica is enough to calm down Heather's nerves - even if Veronica is not at all happy to see her.
"Are you saying I won't be eaten alive in the house?" Heather tries to lighten up the mood but fails miserably as Veronica's expression remains upset.
"Not by mosquitoes," Veronica replies, finally allowing Heather to walk through the door. "Close the door behind you, please."
Heather obliges and closes the wooden door, she turns around again to see Veronica's brown locks disappearing into the hallway as she walks away from Heather. "Are you serious?" Heather scoffs, but Veronica doesn't reply.
Despite being with Veronica for three years, Heather had never been to the Sawyer's cabin before. Heather and Veronica lived very far from Ohio, and according to Veronica, the family didn't use the house -which was inherited by Veronica's dad once her grandmother passed away- very frequently. Heather takes a second to analyze the place, if not for the mess, the house would have been a nice place to stay, but instead, it looks like it's under renovation, with dirt, power tools, and even a blue plastic tarp hanging on one side of the wall. The dust and the strong paint smell start to make Heather's nose itch.
"She won't be here for long, don't worry," Heather hears Veronica reassuring someone. It didn't occur to Heather that there might have been someone else in the house. God, could it be Veronica's parents? That would make things much harder for Heather.
"Who are you talking to?" Heather asks, loud enough for Veronica to hear from the other room.
"I'll ask the questions," Veronica appears in the living room again, arms folded over her chest. "Why are you here?"
Before Heather can answer, another figure enters the room. Heather blinks and stares at it, unsure of how to react. "Is that a duck?" she says, eyebrows raised and eyes gleaming as the bird strolls around. A smile starts to creep up her face despite Heather's efforts to hide it. "Oh my God, are we in the fourth season of Friends?"
"Yeah, this is The One Where Rachel and Monica Fall in Love But Then Monica Finds Out That Rachel Is a Compulsive Liar and Has Been Lying About Who She Is For The Past Three Years, And Even That Her Name Is Rachel, So Monica Gets Rightfully Upset and Is Like 'Get Away From Me, Crazy Person' But Somehow Psycho Rachel Tracks Her Down."
"You think I'm a Rachel?" Heather raises one eyebrow, amused.
"I don't know who you are," Veronica says bitterly.
"That's why I'm here," Heather says. "To explain everything."
"I gave you a chance to explain everything days ago!" Heather can tell that Veronica is getting frustrated by the way she starts gesticulating more. "I asked you point blank and you refused to tell me, and now all of a sudden you want to talk?"
Next to Veronica's leg, the duck -whose presence Veronica has yet to explain- starts flapping his wings and quacking.
"Ok, that is a very cute duck," Heather admits. Her grandmother had a duck when Heather was younger and seeing this little guy brought back pleasant memories -there weren't many of them- for her; she has always loved animals, even if that trait didn't match her usual poised, almighty personality.
"Yes, he's the best duck in the world," Veronica says aggressively, which Heather can't help but find funny.
"Where did he come from?" She chuckles.
"I found him on the porch and I invited him in because It was raining and I felt bad," Veronica explains, unbeknownst to the way the small sentence tugged at Heather's heartstrings. Of course, Veronica with her heart of gold would invite a duck into her house to keep it safe from the rain. "His name is Henry, he loves Cheerios and he's kind of my best friend right now, which I know sounds insane to you, but you know what? I don't have to explain anything to you seeing as refuse the tell me even the most basic things about yourself."
"I wasn't judging, he seems like a very chill duck," Heather shrugs.
"He is very chill," Veronica says loudly, eyebrows furrowed as she struggles to navigate between her usual politeness and her current anger towards Chandler. "But you didn't drive all this way to talk about my duck."
"No, I-" Heather gets interrupted by a loud noise of something breaking coming from one of the other rooms. "Jesus, what was that?"
"I think that was the shelf I just installed," Veronica says with a defeated expression. "Fuck."
"Why are you doing this by yourself?" Heather asks. "Couldn't your parents have hired someone?"
Veronica grabs a power drill from the toolbox, probably set to fix the shelf as if Heather's presence doesn't exist. "They don't know," Veronica says, without turning her head to look at her wife.
"They don't know you're renovating?" Heather asks. Her estranged wife turns around cringing.
"Renovating is a strong word. The house was a mess so I'm fixing up some things," Veronica clarifies. She is still holding the drill, and Heather's mind can't help but think about how sexy she looks, with the sleeves of her dark blue hoodie rolled up, showing her arms, plus her messy brown hair framing her face in a very charming way. Heather wants to shove her against the wall and kiss her. But she can't, she has to focus on her mission, one that hopefully will end with her and Veronica fucking inside the Sawyer's decaying cabin. How very romantic.
"Well, can you do that later?" Heather asks. A thunder reverberates through the living room, but neither of them acknowledges it. "I just need one thing right now."
Veronica scoffs and raises an eyebrow. "Oh you need one thing?" she mocks. "Funny, because I came here looking for one thing as well. All I wanted was to clear my head so I could forget about you but you're making that very hard for me."
"Oh, am I?" Heather blinks, feigning innocence. Maybe there is an easier way to convince Veronica... God, those rolled-up sleeves are doing something to her. "You can't forget about me, can you?"
"What are you doing?" Veronica asks when Heather begins moving towards her.
"I think that what you're doing is lovely," Heather smiles sweetly, the kind of smile that hides second intentions. "Fixing up this house for your parents..."
"Can you stay on your side of the room, please?" a subtle shade of red starts to creep up on Veronica's cheek. It's working.
Heather ignores her. "But I think you're only focused on the house because it's one thing that you can control right now," she says, batting her long eyelashes in the same way she always does when she wants something. With every word she says, Heather begins to walk closer and closer to Veronica -the floorboards creaking with every step she takes- who steps back to further herself from Chandler, until her back hits a wall and she is left with nowhere to run to. Now, only a few inches separate the two of them; Heather can smell Veronica's sweet perfume, mixed with a light hint of cigarettes -Veronica was trying to quit but moments like these are probably not helping her lose the habit. Veronica isn't very strong when it comes to resisting Heather, one flirty smile or a little bit of cleavage showing and she melts, and Heather can see by the way her wife's eyes linger on her lips for far too long, and how flustered and tense she looks, that Veronica is fighting with her every being to not cave in. "Unlike the feelings that you still gave for m-"
"What?!" Veronica snaps away from her trance before Heather can finish, cheeks burning red and dark eyebrows furrowed. She moves away from Heather all the way to the other side of the living room, where Heather had been standing before. "No, no, no, no! I know what you're doing, okay? It's not going to work so just stop!"
Dammit...she thinks.
"I have a lot of shit to get done, ok? I don't have time for this," Veronica continues. "I don't have time for you."
"Ok, fine! Then I'll be quick," Heather says. She opens her purse and takes out what to her is now considered the most important thing in the world, this boring yellow envelope contains her only chance to make things right. She holds the envelope - which is now a little crumpled given it was inside her purse for hours- so Veronica can see it. "After tonight you will never hear from the again if that's what you really want. But everything we need to save our marriage is inside this envelope. All I'm asking you is for one chance."
"And if it doesn't work you'll leave?" Veronica asks with an eyebrow raised.
"Yes."
Veronica takes a second to respond. She stands there with her arms crossed over her chest and a stern look in her eyes like she's deciding whether she'll humor Heather or kick her out of the house. "Fine," she says at last.
Heather involuntarily breathes out a sigh of relief. Veronica gestures towards the couch and when they're both seated, Heather hands the envelope to her wife, who takes it warily, like she fears the object is about to explode in her face.
"What is this?" Veronica asks. In her hands is a total of three papers, bound together by a single staple.
"Read it."
"The experimental generation of interpersonal closeness: a procedure and some preliminary findings," Veronica obeys, although she appears to grow more confused with each word read. "How is a scientific paper going to save our marriage?"
"Keep reading," Heather insists. Veronica does so, turning the pages until, finally, the answer comes with Heather having to say it. She doesn't have to. In contrast to Heather's eagerness, Veronica doesn't show a hint of excitement.
"The 36 questions," she says flatly.
"The 36 questions," Heather parrots, trying to hide her proud grin. The mention of the article takes her back to the night in Veronica's old apartment, their very first date. Veronica being the nerd she was had shown Heather -who was Jessica at the time- an article she found online, made to see if two total strangers could like each other after answering a set of prepared questions. That night, Heather got to meet the real Veronica, so in her head, it's more than fair that now Veronica gets to meet her, the real her this time. The plan has its flaws, understandable since Heather came up with it at 4 a.m while driving through Interstate Whatever, but Veronica has always been the romantic one, she's bound to appreciate the gesture, or at the very least laugh at the irony; the thing that started their relationship might also be the thing that will fix it or end it for good.
"That's very poetic of you," Veronica replies, the comment doused in sarcasm.
"It isn't over yet," Heather says. "There's more stuff inside the envelope."
Whether it's impatience or curiosity Heather doesn't know but Veronica turns the envelope upside down and shakes it above the sofa until the remaining contents fall out: A bottle of lighter fluid, a box of matches, Veronica's wedding ring -which she had left on the kitchen counter before leaving Heather, because she's a drama queen- and at last, bound together by a single rubber band, Heather's documents. Well, fake documents, actually; ID, driver's license, business card from her law firm, passport, birth certificate, Sam's Club card...everything that had allowed her to be Jessica Walker.
"What do you want me to do with these?" Veronica asks.
"I want you to burn them," Heather explains. Veronica looks at her like she's grown two heads.
"You want me to burn your documents for you?"
"For us, for our marriage," Heather says. She had read once, when she was in college, that the Vikings used to set a person's belongings on fire after they passed, as a way to honor their memories. She thinks that's fitting, the best things in Heather's life -her marriage, her career, her house- are all thanks to Jessica Walker.
"How is me burning your fake documents going to help our marriage? Nothing that we do is going to change the fact that you have been lying to me about everything since the moment we met."
"That's why I brought the questions!" Heather explains. The plan isn't hard to comprehend, and Veronica is smart, smarter than Heather will ever be, she's just refusing to let herself understand it. "Well destroy everything that was Jessica Walker's, then we'll start over. We'll do the 36 questions again, just like our first date, but this time, I'll be honest with you." Veronica doesn't agree nor deny so Heather gets up from the couch and grabs the trash can in the corner, bringing it back to where Veronica is seated. Heather drops the documents inside of it, douses the whole thing with lighter fluid, and hands the match for Veronica to do the honors.
"I don't care about 36 questions, I care about one question!" Veronica exclaims. "Why did you lie to me?"
"Ans that question had a thousand answers," Heather says, her bottled up frustration —from being caught in her elaborated lie, from Veronica abandoning her, from almost 40 hours on the road— starting to grow." You're asking me why I made a split-second decision in the heat of the moment of meeting you. That's me! That's Heather! Nice to meet you."
"This is ridiculous," Veronica mumbles and runs her hand through her brown hair. "I don't understand why I have to be part of your little cremation ceremony, you're the one who made her up."
"Because it's important that we do this together. It's a way of saying goodbye to Jessica and hello to the real me: Heather," Heather explains. "So we can honor her memories and move on...God, I feel so dumb saying this but it's true."
"I'm going to regret this," Veronica starts. "But give me the match."
Heather does so. Veronica lights up the match, then throws it inside the trash can, the fire spreading instantly. Heather stares at the flames as they burn three years of her life away. She didn't think she would be this sad, but her heart hangs heavy as every trace of Jessica billowed into the air. The truth is, Heather loved Jessica, she was the best part of her, the unproblematic part, the part that she wasn't ashamed of. Jessica didn't come with all of the mistakes that Heather had made in her life, and for three years she felt like a completely different person. Now that Jessica is gone, and all that remains is fucked up Heather Chandler, she fears that the worst version of her will come back. A pang of regret starts to grow inside of her.
The smoke starts to spread more, a light grey cloud invading the living room, causing both women to cough.
"I think I put too much lighter fluid," Heather says, using her shirt to cover her nose.
"It's fine, the fire alarms don't work anyway," Veronica says. She grabs the trash can and goes towards one of the windows, then starts throwing the ashes of what used to be Jessica outside; the fresh air that enters the room is a relief to them.
"And just like that she's gone," Heather says. "How do you feel?"
"Sad, I guess..." Veronica says, a faraway look on her face. "And stupid."
"Yeah, me too..." Heather clears her throat, the awkwardness between the two hanging heavily.
"Especially because now I've made it impossible for you to leave."
"What do you mean?" Heather blinks.
"How are you gonna drive or check in a hotel with no identifying documents?"
Heather blinks again, realization coming to her. She really did not think this through.
"I have my passport," she says. Veronica turns to look at her, suddenly interested.
"You do?" she asks. "What's the name on it?"
"My legal name," Heather rolls her eyes.
"Heather Chandler," Veronica says. It feels strange to hear Veronica say her real name. "It's pretty."
"Thanks," Heather says. "It's in my car, do you want to see it?"
"I don't know, I guess I do..." Veronica says, uncertain. "I think it would be good to see your real name, you know? It will feel more real..."
"Yeah, I get it," Heather nods her head. "Let's go meet Heather, then."
They step out of the house, but not before Veronica waves goodbye to Henry and reassures him they will be back soon. The estranged couple walks in silence towards Heather's red Nissan, ignoring the droplets of rain that are still falling. Veronica stands awkwardly a few feet away from the car as Heather gets inside to look for her document.
"There you go," she says, handing the passport to Veronica.
"Wait a second, you're from Ohio too?" Veronica questions, flabbergasted. "I told you I was from Ohio and you didn't say anything. You said you came from New York."
"I did live in New York before moving to Seattle so not a total lie," Heather tries to defend herself. "
"Still a lie," Veronica points out matter of factly. "Are you really from Ohio? I still can't believe this. Have you been secretly a fan of the Cleveland Browns all these years?"
"One question at a time, please," Heather says. "Besides, now it's your time to answer."
"What?"
"Tell me, given the choice of anyone in the world, who would you want as a dinner guest?" Heather asks.
"You're trying to trick me," Veronica narrows her eyes.
"I only asked you a question!" Heather feigns innocence with a shrug.
"No, you asked me the question. The first one out of 36, but I'm not gonna answer it."
"Why? You don't want me to know the truth?" Heather raises one eyebrow, testing her. "You're already telling me."
"Ok, fine! It would be Heather," Veronica gives up. Quite easily, Heather would say. "Given the choice of having dinner with anyone in the world, I would choose to have dinner with the woman who broke my heart. Are you happy?"
Before Heather can answer—yes, she is very happy about the answers, not as happy to be reminded that she broke her wife's heart— another thunder breaks above them, this time louder as if a huge speaker had been placed right next to them and along with the noise, the rain starts to get heavier.
"We should get back inside," Veronica says, hurriedly.
"Don't you want to hear my answer?"
"I already know it."
"It's you," Heather says.
"Yeah, obviously Heather," Veronica rolls her eyes. "Let's go."
Heather's shoes are definitely not made for running through the woods in the middle of a thunderstorm, and she almost slips three times, but they manage to get back inside, drenched but unscathed.
"Holy shit," Heather breathes out once she closes the door, her hair dripping rainwater down her back, and she starts shaking.
"Where is Henry?" Veronica mumbles and starts pacing around the house to look for the animal. "Oh, he's under the table, thank god!" She comes back with Henry, all wrapped up in her arms like a baby.
"Aw, is he ok?" Heather coos.
"I think so, just a little shaken up," Veronica says. Outside, the wind is roaring loudly, the branches swaying with force, and the rain heavily hitting the windows and the roof.
"Can I pet him?"
"Y-yeah, sure," Veronica agrees. "He likes when you scratch the top of his head."
Heather takes Veronica's suggestion and starts petting his head and Henry seems to calm down slightly. That is until a tree falls right next to the house, startling not only the duck but Heather and Veronica as well.
"Guess I'll finish fixing things up tomorrow morning, then," Veronica says, as she takes out her drenched blue sweater.
"Yeah, looks like it."
Veronica sits on the floor with Henry, who is still scared, and without even noticing Heather mimics her, sitting cross-legged in front of the two. When she looks up, she sees Veronica's eyes lingering on Heather's chest.
"Were you undressing me with your eyes?" Heather grins.
"What? N-no, I wasn't," Veronica fumbles to explain herself, suddenly embarrassed, her cheeks a bright pink."
"Yes, you were."
"It's just...your shirt is completely see-through now and your nipples are out there for everyone to see."
Heather looks down at her white shirt and realizes she's right. "Oh yeah, so they are."
"Yep, so you can see how this can be embarrassing," Veronica mutter, her eyes now focused on literally everything else that isn't Heather's chest area, or her eyes.
"Can I borrow a shirt, then?"
"Hm, yeah, sure," Veronica says. "My stuff is upstairs, assuming the roof hasn't blown off. Please don't poke around."
"I promise," Heather says. She gets up from the floor, careful not to step on poor Henry, and heads towards the stares, unable to contain the grin that starts spreading on her face.
Part one of 'Mission Getting Veronica Back': Completed.