Heathers Oneshots!

[CHANSAW] party.

    

        "You are not going to hurl here of all places." It's a sneer in her general direction.

Veronica gingerly laughs. It was supposed to be a joke. This is her second party. Which is surprising. Considering the first one she went too was almost her last. It was almost Chandler's last too. Considering the morning after she was rushed to the ER over poisoning from draino.

And obviously lived to tell the tale.

A lot had changed in the 12 months since. Senior year. Fresh start. No Jason. Readjusting. The Heathers had more or less—broke apart. No more color coded oddly enforced dress codes or such. Sure, the four remained friends in their...weird way. But it wasn't as close knit as before.

It wasn't eat or be eaten.

Which surprised Sawyer. Surprised her that Heather Chandler still looked her in the eyes after almost getting her murdered that one Sunday morning.

The laugh fades to words. "No, not tonight." The brunette teased, casting a look at her near empty solo cup. The world is already fuzzed down. Betty and Martha had left around forty minutes ago because of a curfew. She didn't mind, it had been nice to start hanging out with them again.

"Well, that's good." The demon queen gave an airy laugh, pulling herself off the wall. "If you're gonna get a refill can you get me one too?" Her voice is gently slurred like Sawyer's own, but it's hoarse. Not from the alcohol. It's always been rough since 12 months ago.

"Do it yourself, Heather." It's a jab, pushing the red cup back into her pale arms.

"Ugh, you suck." It's playful. Accompanied by a roll of grey eyes and she's off, swaying down the hall.

Now empty handed, she drummed her fingertips against her jeans awaiting her friend's return. It's an odd word to describe the red Heather. It's one she never thought she'd used sincerely. A lot sure had changed.

Like Heather. She wasn't sure what had changed in the teen's mind when she woke up in that hospital room barely able to speak. Veronica had been there. She had been the one to call the cops, after all. The brunette had been out in the waiting room. Heather McNamara burst through the emergency room doors in near tears before Heather's parents had. Duke had showed up an hour later. The unlikely trio. At the queen's side.

Veronica had seen it in Heather's eyes the moment she had been let into that hospital room. Something was different. Yes, physically. But just—Heather's view on everything. How she treated people. She wasn't a saint. Not by a long shot. But it wasn't as harsh. Enough to be respected, but she wasn't destroying people's life's now. She almost seemed more human.

Heather didn't talk about that much. Neither didn't Veronica.

"Here," it's a sudden hum that snapped her out of her thoughts. A cheap cup of beer is slammed back into her arms. A flash of red and Chandler is at her side again. Cup already half empty.

"I'm bored."

"You're at a party, Heather."

"Point?"

"Go dance."

"God, no."

"Then what do you want to do?"

"Fine then, dance with me instead then."

Heather doesn't know why she accepts her hand.