Even Royalty Has Problems. (ChanSaw)

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Marshy: SELF HARM WARNING! If you don't like that, or depression, please don't read! If you're here for it, uh, just know even if I don't know you outside of the internet, I love you! And I hope you're doing okay. Also, this is the longest oneshot I've written! 1100+ words! Woah! Also, over 600 reads? I'm flattered. Thank you!

Prompt: "I-I'm impure, unclean, damaged property. Why would you even want to be near me, let alone be with me?"

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'Dear diary,

Heather Chandler is the ruler of Westerburg High. She is my girlfriend, and everyone adores us, the power couple. She is a rose, beautiful, but deadly. I'm so lucky to have her…

But, diary, there's something you don't know about her. She was too good at hiding it. Heck, it scared me half to death when I found her..like that.

Don't know what I'm talking about? Let me explain.'

Veronica Sawyer, the newest Heather, was walking side-by-side with Heather Chandler, the demon Queen and mythic bitch that everyone called her. No one had the courage to say that to any of the Heathers'™ faces. Behind the power couple, was Heather Duke, in all green, and Heather McNamara, in all yellow. They were McDuke, and Veronica and Chandler were ChanSaw. They were all happy.

But, there was one thing Veronica noticed about her Heather. Her smile- smirk, was faked, usually she loved to smirk. She learned how to fake it. She was more colder than usual, and she was refusing to hug Veronica at some points, and it hurt the brunette. She also noticed that the leading blonde would be more distant, and would always be the first out of the school and on her way home.

And Veronica wanted to know why, so this is why she was on her way to Heather's house- correction, mansion, to see what was wrong with her girlfriend.

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She knocked her special pattern, which was a verse of a song that Chandler could really sing well. Candy Store, Veronica vaguely remembered being extremely flustered when the Heathers™ were aggressively dancing towards her after she pissed off Chandler - before they were dating - on accident. She also remembered extremely clearly checking out her backside, 'but we're not going to talk about that.' Veronica thought.

Five minutes passed, and the brunette's anxiety started to bubble. Chandler never ignored her knocking. Sure, she ignored Duke, and even McNamara at one point. But never her. Luckily, she remembered she had a spare key that Heather gave her.

'Use it if I don't answer after five minutes, because I'll always answer for you, Ronnie.' The memory replayed in her mind, as she stuck the pale red key in the golden lock, letting herself in, making sure to shut the door firmly behind her, placing her key back inside her deep blue blazer's pocket, and stepped into the hall she came to love so much.

“Heather? It's Veronica, I uh, let myself in… I wanted to see if you were okay? You've been acting weird lately..” She called around the house. After recieving no answer, she double checked that her girlfriend's Porsche was outside. It was. That only enhanced her worry, “Heather?” She called again, receiving no response.

She waited for a moment, then headed upstairs. If she was upstairs she'd get the furthest away from the entrance, the brunette knew that. Heather's room was the furthest room away from the front door. So, of course she went there first. She opened the door.

There was her vanity red mirror - well, parts of it, surrounded by red-stained tissues, scattered across the red room, almost blending in with the theme. The blue girl's eyes widened. Heather happened.

“Heather?”

A small whimper echoed from the bathroom off to the side. Veronica always had an idea of what was wrong, maybe it was her, but she'd no idea that Heather would go to this length. She walked over to the bathroom door, finding it locked, 'Time to pull a Jason Fucking Dean.' She thought.

“Heather, open the door, please.” She asked calmly, hiding her anxiety that was close to making her puke as her mind wandered into very dark places, and predictions which she really hoped were false and she was just having a nightmare. No response, “Heather, open the door.”

A small sniffle increased her anxiety, and Veronica was beginning to grow impatient - she had half a mind to break down the door and hold the blonde in her arms, to tell her everything is okay, and that she was here to help.

A small click brought the brunette back to reality. The bathroom door was unlocked. Veronica slowly opened it, and the sight shocked her to her core as she looked at Heather Chandler infront of her, broken.

The blonde had blood lining her arms with a razor in her shaky hands, her knuckles bruised and bleeding from where she destroyed the mirror. Her hair was frizzy, tangled and the ends were damp from her tears. Her eyes were puffy, bloodshot, her nose was red, and she was still crying as she had screwed her eyes shut. Veronica was quick to take the razor out of the blonde's hands, somehow managing to pick up the taller girl and lie her on her queen sized bed. She wasn't going to ask her straight away, as she kissed her forehead gently, “I'll clean up.” She spoke softly, and all the demon queen could do was nod.

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It took a while, but she had finished cleaning. The mirror was thrown into the trash along with the tissues, and the razor was cleaned off and put back neatly. She sat next to Heather, who had stopped crying.

“Heather, I'm not mad, but-” The brunette started and Heather was quick to cut her off.

“Wh-Why do you care?” She stammered, her voice raspy and raw from where she'd been crying.

“What do you mean?”

“I-I'm impure, unclean, damaged property. Why would you even want to be near me, let alone be with me?”

“Because I didn't fall in love with the Queen for her looks; I fell because of her personality, her charm, her confidence. I know you may not believe this, but we can get help for you.. If you can just tell me..”

“Well,” Chandler started, then went into a full on ramble about her parents' negligence, and how she's scared of slipping up at school. Veronica gasped, as she wrapped Heather's arms and hands in bandages.

“…I'm here..” She soothed, as she put the first aid kit away, laying down with the girl.

And soon enough, they fell asleep in eachother's arms. For the first time in a while, Heather Chandler, the Queen of Westerburg High, felt safe.

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