The faint trails of light filtered between the shades of Octavia’s window, casting the glow of morning light across her face. She mumbled, her mind more asleep than awake, as she pulled Vinyl’s pillow closer. She nuzzled into the downy object, a peaceful smile forming on her face. The delicate whistles of the morning birds mixed with the muffled traffic of city life. Slowly waking from a night of dreamless sleep, she gradually became aware of the pillow her nose was presently buried into. She didn’t open her eyes. If she opened her eyes then she could no longer pretend she was holding Vinyl securely in her forelegs or that her nose was pressed against the back of Vinyl’s neck with that garish mane washing over her dull grey fur. The pretense was aided by the smell embedded into the pillow by years of Vinyl sleeping on it, yet at the end of the day it was still just a hollow comfort.
Reluctantly opening her eyes, the illusion vanished. Octavia sighed. Still clutched against her breast was the stuffed Beethooven, its uniform now crumpled from Octavia’s restless night. Wiping the sleep from her eyes she lifted herself into a mostly upright position. With a yawn she slipped carefully off the bed, pausing just long enough to gently grasp Beethooven in her teeth before blearily stumbling her way to the bathroom. Sitting the doll beside the sink, she took a look at herself in the mirror. Loathe as she was to admit it, Vinyl had been right. Sleeping at home, even alone, had done her good. The bags under her eyes were less noticeable, her coat had more of a shine to it, and she felt a bit better. Her mane, on the other hoof, was a spectacular catastrophe.
With a sigh she picked up her brush and began the arduous task of combing it back into its proper style. Her eyes drifted to Beethooven as the brush scraped through her mane. She would make sure to thank Vinyl properly when she returned to the hospital later. Hopefully her meeting with Dawn would go better than Bon Bon’s attempt had worked out.
“What do you think?” she asked the doll, hating her brushing. “Maybe if I appeal to her as Vinyl’s fiancé? See if I can get sympathy from that angle?”
The doll stared at her with its black lacquer eyes. Octavia sighed and shook her head, resuming her brushing.
“I suppose you’re right, it probably wouldn’t work. I just can’t think of anything else to try, though.” She contemplated; Beethooven stared at her in patient silence. Octavia found herself chuckling “If Vinyl could see me now she’d never let me live it down.”
Octavia frowned as she worked the brush through her mane, her mind drifting to memories from mornings past where Vinyl would use her magic to brush out Octavia’s mane for her, often while embracing her from behind, rubbing her back, or a myriad of other little gestures that the earth pony had taken for granted. The realization cut like a knife.
“I swear,” she started, her gaze shifting from her reflection in the mirror to the little Beethooven “Once Vinyl’s home I’ll never take her for granted again.”
Finishing her mane and doing her tail well enough to be presentable, Octavia took Beethooven with her to the kitchen, setting him on the table while she perused the contents of the refrigerator in search of breakfast. Her nose furled in disgust at the various leftovers that had been sitting too long without Vinyl or herself home to eat them. She removed the rotting items and deposited them into the trash. Sighing, she browsed through the cupboards for something edible. Finding nothing that tickled her fancy, she packed Beethooven into her saddlebag, removed the full trash bag replacing it with a fresh one, and deposited the trash bag on the curb for collection.
Octavia paused a moment to look up at the sky, the endless blue speckled by cotton clouds. Pegasi of all colors glided lazily on thermal updrafts, Celestia’s sun shining brightly above them all. The warmth it cast over Octavia’s body countered the cool spring breeze pleasantly enough. She wished Vinyl were standing beside her sharing in this moment. The familiar pang of sadness clenched Octavia’s heart; with a sigh she cantered down the sidewalk towards town. A hot coffee and some breakfast would do her good, particularly if Dawn proved to be as…difficult as Lyra and Bon Bon had implied.
Deciding after a moment’s thought to walk rather than take a cab, Octavia made her way downtown in the general direction of The Watering Hole as well as a coffee shop she and Vinyl had been frequenting on their days off. The walk helped her feel a bit better at least, getting the blood flowing through her muscles removed the ache induced from days of sitting largely still. She ignored the many earth ponies and unicorns she passed on her walk. She found herself resenting the ones that she saw laughing and smiling, envying the couples that stole chaste kisses and touches in storefronts and cafés.
Octavia stifled a growl. She knew she wasn’t being fair; she had no right to be angry at other ponies for not sharing in her misery. She was better than that, right?
Forcing the thoughts from her mind she found the coffee shop she was looking for, a rustic-looking building simply known as The Eighth Note. Vinyl had found the place not long after the two had rented the townhouse; both had come to enjoy it as a good place for quick ‘date’ moments. Pushing open the door she was slightly surprised by how empty the establishment was, at least until she noticed it was almost 11:30.
Aside from herself and the two employees behind the counter there were only three other ponies in the coffee house. In the far back corner, slumped forward in his seat, was a pegasus stallion, his fur pale blue in color. Sitting on his head was a black fedora pulled down over his eyes as he snored lightly. Thin strands of his light brown mane obscured his face further. Sitting on the table in front of him was three empty cups as well as a stack of papers. Towards the front of the café was another pegasus wearing a set of glasses that were perched on his snout. His fur a smooth charcoal color stood in strong contrast to his golden blonde mane. Octavia found herself momentarily transfixed by the color. Moving into towards the counter she got into line behind a purple unicorn, the mark on his flank bearing a crescent moon with three stars. Octavia wondered if he worked with in the Royal Guard or perhaps Celestia’s Academy. The barista, a tan furred unicorn mare with a pink mane set a cup of tea and a muffin in front of him. He took the items in his own magic and trotted happily off to a table to enjoy his snack. Octavia took a moment to peruse the menu before stepping up to the counter.
“Morning, ma’am. What can we get you?” The mare smiled pleasantly.
“I’ll take a cup of black tea, no cream or sugar and a blueberry muffin if it’s not too much trouble please.” Octavia said.
“For here or to go?” The mare asked.
“I’ll take it here please.” Octavia smiled wearily. The mare nodded and rang her order up with a smile.
“That’ll be five bits please.” She said. Octavia nodded and retrieved the sum from her bag. “Thank you ma’am, if you just wanna find a table I’ll bring it out to you. “
Octavia started to say that she didn't require help. Then she remembered that Vinyl wasn't with her to carry their orders in her magic. “Thank you.” She replied quietly before turning to find a table.
Helping herself to one of the complimentary newspapers left out for customers to read, she settled in at a quiet table away from the other ponies. She skimmed the headlines for a few minutes before the barista delivered her tea and muffin. Octavia thanked the mare without looking up from her paper.
“Alone today?” the barista asked, the unexpected question catching Octavia unprepared.
“Beg pardon?” she asked,
“Usually you come in here with that unicorn.” The friendly mare explained, “Is she running late? Should we get a hot chocolate ready for her?”
Octavia’s posture sank, “No, no she won’t be coming back for a while. She-She’s been a bit under the weather.” Octavia said carefully.
“Oh, well I’m very sorry to hear that. Tell her to get well soon, okay hon?” The barista pony smiled. Octavia nodded and returned the smile before the other mare trotted off.
After taking some time to enjoy the tea and muffin, Octavia allowed herself a moment to simply read the newspaper. Just for a while, she could pretend life was normal. The illusion was only broken when the barista started poking the sleeping pegasus, informing him to either buy another drink or go home to sleep. Octavia folded the paper, setting it back down on the table before heading out.
Her walk to The Watering Hole took the better part of an hour. A maelstrom of thoughts swirled through her mind. What would she say? What would Dawn say? Could she control herself if things got heated, or would she do or say something stupid? Vinyl had chided her for years about her admittedly hot temper, which usually earned the unicorn a playfully thwack, but now? She had no plan, and not much information to go on. Part of that was due to Vinyl’s peculiar habit of self-censorship. Vinyl hated it when the ponies she cared for worried, which meant she rarely told Octavia about things that were bothering her, and when she did it was usually because the cellist walked in on her trying to cry discreetly.
Octavia paused in front of the heavy black doors of The Watering Hole. The sign on the front read ‘CLOSED’ in bolded letters with the hours of operation printed below. Most sensible ponies would have shrugged and gone on with their day, yet one of the perks to having a fiancé that worked as a professional DJ was that it gave Octavia a few insights most ponies lacked. Clubs always had staff show up well before the doors opened in order to do any number of tasks ranging from the never ending process of cleaning and restocking the bar, ordering more inventory, or setting up the nights entertainment.
Taking a moment to ensure her bowtie was straight, she knocked heavily on the door. After a minute of being soundly ignored she knocked again with a bit more force. Eventually a decidedly annoyed looking earth pony answered, his large stature leading Octavia to assume he worked as a bouncer.
“We’re closed miss,” he informed her “the hours of operation are listed on the door.
“I know. I’m here to speak with Dawn Chaser.” Octavia replied evenly.
“You got an appointment?” he asked.
“Tell her it’s about Vinyl Scratch.” She said. The stallion looked mildly more interested. Octavia wondered if Vinyl knew this pony, or if Dawn talked about Vinyl when she wasn’t there. She did her best to be optimistic.
“And who might you be?” He asked warily.
“I’m her fiancé.” Octavia answered, earning an incredulous look from the stallion.
“Oookay, wait here.” He said, closing the door on her. Octavia waited with as much patience as she could manage. Several minutes later he reappeared, looking markedly more uncomfortable than before. “Come with me please.” He said, holding the door open for her.
Octavia followed the stallion into the bar. Like most venues Vinyl got hired to play in, the door led straight into a wide-open room. A clean, but well-worn dance floor occupied enough space for at least 100 ponies to express themselves to whatever rhythm was offered on a given night. Several unicorns in the process of setting up a large sound system occupied the raised stage. A white-furred pegasus with a red and blue mane directed oversaw the process, a pair of red headphones hanging from her neck. On the wall behind the stage was a banner that identified the current entertainer to be DJ THUND3R. Octavia glared at the offending signage.
‘That should be Vinyl setting up right now,’ she thought ‘He’d better not be using Vinyl’s gear. These ponies don’t have the right!’ Octavia bit her tongue and forced herself to continue walking before she caused a scene.
On the opposite wall from the dance floor was a long bar and a cluster of small round tables. Several ponies were busying themselves stocking the bar shelves, cleaning glasses, wiping down tables, and taking care of the myriad of other small tasks required to run a club. Octavia followed the bouncer past them and up a flight of stairs in the back of the building. He paused at the top and turned to face her.
“Dawn’s office is the first door on the right. I assume you can find your own way out when you’re done?” he asked.
Octavia’s eye twitched subtly in annoyance at the question. “Yes, thank you.”
He nodded curtly, slipping past her to get back downstairs. Octavia took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Without further delay she trotted to the door, lifting a hoof to knock politely.
“Come in.” came the muted response.
Pushing the door open, Octavia spotted the mare that Bon Bon had described. It only took a glance for Octavia to get a sense of what kind of mare she was about to deal with. Dawn’s posture behind her desk was a case study in the difference between Canterlot and Manehatten businesspony’s. A Canterlot pony was relaxed and sat with an inborn poise. They were in charge, they knew it, and they made sure everyone else did too. That sense of personal control gave them a formal, but distinctly relaxed posture.
It was easy for Octavia to tell that Dawn Chaser was not a Canterlot mare. Behind her desk she looked much closer to a dragon guarding its horde than anything else. Her wary eyes carried the look of both predator and prey. She was a mare who had been given very little in life and owed all she had to her own bitter work. Octavia suppressed a gulp. Vinyl understood how to work with ponies like Dawn, she had built her career on it. Octavia’s experience with Dawn’s kind was limited, and rarely pleasant for anyone involved.
“And just who in the hay are you supposed to be?” Dawn asked, interrupting Octavia’s thoughts.
“Beg pardon?” she asked dumbly.
“I was told Vinyl’s fiancé was pounding my door down, not some fancy flank like you.” Dawn scowled. Octavia wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be amused by the mare’s antagonism or offended by it. The net result of her confusion was to stare blankly.
“So what,” Dawn continued “you her lawyer? Another friend here to feed me a sob story and tell me that I’ve got a heart that makes Wendigo’s look warm?”
“Uh, no?” Octavia managed.
“Then what?” Dawn demanded, “Get to your point or get out, frankly I don’t care which.”
“I am Vinyl’s fiancé!” Octavia answered, her frustration rapidly building. To her surprise, Dawn recoiled slightly and remained silent. “I came here to see if we could come to some sort of understanding about Vinyl’s gear. Wi-”
“An understanding?” Dawn angrily cut her off “Here’s an understanding for you; I don’t need fillyfoolers headlining my club. I don’t have a problem with your kind, but I will not get my name or my employees dragged into your social war!”
“Wh-What?” Octavia stammered, “What in the name of Celestia do you mean by “my kind”?”
“Fillyfoolers, coltcuddlers, gays, lesbians, ho-mo-sexual ponies!” Dawn spat. “It comes out that I had a fillyfooler mainlining my club, then the next thing I know half my clientele start a boycott and show up at my front door with picket signs for supporting the “gay agenda”!” she waved her hooves in the air sarcastically “Then they’ll start harassing my employees, forcing them to take sides. Somepony might even get hurt! Then what happens? I’ll tell you what, than I’m litigated right on out of business! NO!” she slammed a hoof on the table causing Octavia to jump. “No, I will not allow that to happen! I will not let my life’s work go up in flames for your bloody agenda!”
Octavia didn’t realize she was snarling. Then again, abject rage wasn’t an emotion she was used to. She wanted nothing more then to leap over the table and beat the businessmare within an inch of her life. The one thing that kept her rooted in her seat was the small fact that she couldn’t be with Vinyl if she was in jail for assault. For several moments the only sound in the small office was the angry breathing of the two mares.
“Well then,” Octavia started slowly, doing her best to keep her tone even, “if ponies like Vinyl and I are so problematic for you, how’s about I take Vinyl’s equipment off your hooves. That way you don’t have to worry about it tainting your precious reputation.”
Dawn smacked her hoof against her forehead, “Didn’t your friend from yesterday explain this to you?” She gave an agitated sigh, her hoof rubbing her temple, “If Vinyl can’t get me back the money, then I can’t give her back the gear!”
“Tell me,” Octavia started “is the DJ setting up downstairs using his or her own equipment?”
“No, that DJ is using my equipment.” Dawn answered warily.
“And I assume you keep at least a full backup set of gear in case those fail?”
“We ensure we have enough backup gear, cords, and parts for all our entertainers. What are you getting at?”
“There is no way Vinyl’s gear is on parity with the equipment you have set up downstairs, what’s the point in keeping her gear when I can promise you we will repay you with bits down the road.” Octavia reasoned, having regained a semblance of her composure.
“I wouldn’t keep her junk if you fail to return the deposit,” Dawn stated “I’d auction it off to recoup my investment.
Octavia’s jaw dropped “You don’t have the right!” she shouted.
“I do, actually. Vinyl signed the contract herself.
“I want to see Vinyl’s contract, now.” Octavia demanded, her lavender eyes glaring at the other mare.
“Contracts between management and employees are strictly confidential.” Dawn deadpanned.
“Let me rephrase myself,” Octavia made a show of clearing her throat and straightening her bowtie. “Either you show me Vinyl’s contract, or I come back with a lawyer and a court order. As family I’m entitled to see it, regardless of whether or not we fit into your bigoted social paradigm.”
The mares stared each other down, locked in a silent battle of wills. Dawn, after considering her position, yielded first. Pulling open a file cabinet she fished around for a few minutes before withdrawing several papers held together with a clip. She set them on the desk so Octavia could read them.
“Section 24 details the policy for talent not appearing for scheduled shows without prior notification.” She explained.
Octavia slid the paper closer to herself, keeping her eyes on Dawn until the last moment. Glancing down she skimmed the page until she found the section Dawn mentioned. The more she read, the lower her heart sank. The contract left little room for interpretation. Without a prior notice of at least twenty-four hours, Dawn was contractually entitled to reclaim the deposit in currency or trade.
Octavia couldn’t quell the tremble that spread through her body as the bitter realization settled into her mind. Vinyl would lose her gear.
“Please,” Octavia begged, her voice sullen “we just need the money right now to cover the hospital bills. After Vinyl is back on her feet we’ll repay you.”
“I don’t run a charity,” Dawn stated. “I’m sorry, but you’re on your own.”
“How can you be so heartless?” Octavia demanded, bitter tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Don’t you dare!” Dawn shouted, rising to her hooves fast enough to knock her chair backward. “Don’t you dare. You don’t know a bloody thing about me.”
“You’re holding Vinyl’s career hostage for a few measly bits!” Octavia countered.
“Do you think I’m doing this for fun?” Dawn asked rhetorically “I’m covering my losses so that my stage manager, Jam Session, can pay for his foal’s schooling. I’m covering my losses so that my bartender, Silver Lining, can afford her mothers hospice care. I’m covering my losses, so that I can pay my rent and keep my daughter fed. Not all of us have a significant other to help out with those bills.” Dawn’s voice quavered subtly as she spoke.
“If you give a griffon’s backside about Vinyl, then you should understand that I would become Nightmare Moon herself to protect the ponies that I care for.” She hissed.
Octavia’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes locking with Dawns. Instants seemed to stretch into eternities of deafening silence, returning only to normal when Octavia noticed the thin trail of tears on Dawn’s cheeks. Taking a moment to collect herself, she rose to her hooves and quietly exited the room. As the door clicked shut Dawn let out a shaky breath and put her head in her hooves, painful memories flashing in the back of her mind. Alone, she allowed herself to cry in silence.
Octavia kept her eyes forward and her chin up as she walked out of the building with what dignity she could manage. Once outside, she slipped into the alley beside the building. There, beside and empty dumpster, she wept. Sadness from her failure to save Vinyl’s equipment gave way to insular rage. With an anguished cry, she bucked the solid brick building with all her might. The force made her hind legs ache with the only result being the sharp smack of hooves on brick. She growled out loud, all her built up frustrations boiling over in a sudden wave. She reared back and bucked the wall again and again, each strike sending waves of dull pain through her legs as the sharp clop, clop, clop of each strike met her ears.
After the fifth strike her anger was sated enough for her to resume her pacing. Her breaths came in heavy waves as her body recovered from the sudden and violent exertions. The embers of her anger faded, giving way to sadness. She needed to see Vinyl. How she would tell her the news, she had not the slightest idea. With a few more deep breaths Octavia began the slow march out of the alley. Her rear legs ached, but Octavia didn’t care. She had failed to protect Vinyl, again. As far as the cellist was concerned, she deserved to suffer a little.
Octavia paused as she approached the street corner. Walking to the hospital would take her the better part of the afternoon from where she found herself currently. Checking to ensure she had enough bits left in her purse, she reluctantly she flagged down a cab. The heavily built earth pony stallion pulling the small carriage smiled politely as she climbed aboard, taking a seat on the worn out bench.
“Where to ma’am?” he asked cordially.
“Manehatten General Hospital please.” She answered. He nodded and began moving at a canter.
Octavia let her mind wander, passively observing the city as it passed before her eyes. Nearly forty minutes later the carriage came to a stop outside of the hospital. Octavia retrieved the necessary bits for the stallion’s fare and deposited them into a brown pouch fastened to the side of the carriage. He thanked her politely before trotting away to find his next customer. Octavia stared up at the building before her, trepidation forming a knot in her stomach. With a gulp she stepped forward, she couldn’t think of a time in her life when she felt more afraid of telling the truth.
The receptionists stationing the front desk smiled and nodded politely when Octavia passed them. Her mind scrambled for things to say, every possibility falling flat before it gained traction. Octavia knew it was hard enough for Vinyl to simply lie there and wait for something to happen. To tell her that if or when she recovered none of her gear would be there was nothing short of a cruel blow.
She paused outside of Vinyl’s door. Inside she could hear Vinyl’s quiet laughter as Lyra regaled her with what seemed to be an entertaining story. Octavia felt a cold sweat come over her. She wanted to run, to find a deep hole to crawl into and hide from the problems of the world. Steeling herself for the worst, Octavia knocked politely before pushing the door open.
The first thing she noticed was Lyra slouching on the couch in her…unique manner. Bon Bon was sitting beside Vinyl with a book in her hooves, and a knowing smirk on her face. What caught Octavia’s attention was the light blanket that covered Vinyl up to her chest, her forelegs laid out on top of it so nurses could easily access her IV line. Ever since her the neuropathic pain started she had been unable to use a blanket; the contact of the mattress alone had been painful enough. Now Vinyl was even wearing her glasses and seemed to be smiling genuinely. Her ruby eyes shifted over in Octavia’s direction.
“Tavi, look!” She beamed and glanced down in the direction of her body “It doesn’t hurt anymore!”
Stunned, Octavia automatically moved to Vinyl’s bedside, a hoof nervously reaching out to the alabaster mare’s foreleg. It had been days since she had been able to touch Vinyl, each one feeling like an eternity. She missed the smooth texture of Vinyl’s fur, the touch of her lips, the sound of her breath. She missed them all more than she could believe.
“It-It’s gone?” She asked disbelievingly. Vinyl grinned wide, unable to nod.
“Well I’ve felt better, but my body isn’t on fire anymore.” She answered.
“They gave her a different dose of medications a couple hours after you went home last night,” Bon Bon explained “It seemed to help her quite a bit so they repeated it around 4 o’clock in the morning. By noon she was feeling good enough to try the blanket, and the pain hasn’t shown any sign of returning.”
Octavia’s hoof timidly pressed against Vinyl’s shoulder. Aside from glancing in the general direction of the contact, Vinyl didn’t react. Octavia smiled happily. Words failed her; all expression was reduced to a smile and a choked laugh. Vinyl smiled up to her, her horn flaring to life. Octavia felt a gentle pressure on the back of her head, guiding her down for a gentle kiss. There weren’t fireworks, no clarions called; there was just Octavia and Vinyl. For the cellist, it was like coming home.
Octavia carefully draped her left foreleg around Vinyl’s chest in a loose hug. She wanted nothing more then to pull the unicorn close and never let her go. Only the fear of hurting Vinyl’s neck restrained her. Reluctantly breaking the kiss, Octavia couldn’t help but laugh.
“I missed you too.” She said, earning a giggle from Vinyl.
“Sleep good?” the unicorn asked.
“I did,” Octavia smiled as she retreated slightly, giving Vinyl some space. Lyra moved to sit beside Bon Bon. “I found the gift you left on the bed as well, you really are a romantic.”
Lyra guffawed loudly “What?” she grinned broadly. Vinyl groaned, her alabaster cheeks flushing crimson. “Since when did you become a romantic, Scratch? Oh, Oh! What was it Octavia?”
“Uh, a stuffed toy.” Octavia answered cautiously.
“That-that is priceless!” She laughed louder “What’s next Scratch, bouquets of roses and chocolate heart boxes?”
“Lemme alone, I’m crippled.” Vinyl pouted, Lyra giggled more.
“Who woulda thought, tough gal Scratch is just a big ol’ soft-OW!” Lyra yelped as Bon Bon lightly smacked her in the shoulder.
“Oh be nice, besides, I think it’s very sweet.” The crème-coated mare smiled, which only made Vinyl blush more.
“Shoot me now.” Vinyl grumbled earning a snicker from Octavia. “Tavi, did you talk to Dawn? “ she asked, looking over to the cellist. Octavia’s blood ran cold, three sets of eyes fixating on her, Lyra and Bon Bon sharing a nervous look while Vinyl looked curious.
“Uhm, yes. Yes I met with her.” Octavia reluctantly admitted.
“How’d it go?” Vinyl smiled, Octavia’s tone making her nervous.
Octavia bit her lip uncomfortably. “Vinyl,” she started, taking the unicorn’s hoof in hers. “Dawn. She…well, um…” she cleared her throat and took a breath, “She’s um... if-if she doesn’t get the 2000 bit deposit back, then…then she’s going to, um… auction your gear.” Octavia’s heart broke as she watched Vinyl’s world shattering in her eyes.
“Oh honey,” Bon Bon took Vinyl’s limp hoof in her own. Lyra fought to keep her face neutral, her hoof reassuringly stroking Vinyl’s mane.
“I’m sorry,” Octavia whimpered “I’m so sorry, Vinyl. I’m so sorry I let you down agai-“ Her words were silenced by Vinyl’s magic grip. Her ruby eyes flooded with tears. Several times Vinyl opened her mouth to speak; yet she couldn’t find the words. Octavia leaned down and pressed her forehead against Vinyl’s, the gauze wrap that still bandaged Vinyl’s head feeling odd against Octavia’s fur. Held by her lover and her friends, the only sound Vinyl could make was a choked cry. The minutes blended together in a haze as the three mares held Vinyl close. Her soft sobs slowly fading to silence. A gentle knock on the door drew their attention.
“Ah, Octavia. Just the mare I was hoping to see.” Dr. Poultice smiled, his chipper attitude faltering somewhat as he took in the scene before him. “Is something wrong?”
“Just some bad news about Vinyl’s work.” Octavia said as she extricated herself from Vinyl.
“Ah, I see. I’m terribly sorry to hear that Vinyl.” He sympathized as he checked her vitals. The alabaster unicorn didn’t respond. “Is your pain still gone, Vinyl?” he asked.
“…Yeah.” She answered quietly.
“Well then, things are looking up a little at least.” He offered, earning an unimpressed grunt from Vinyl.
“What is it you wanted to see me about?” Octavia inquired.
“Well, now that Vinyl’s nerves seem to have settled we need to discuss the next phase of her treatment.” The stallion explained. He glanced at Bon Bon and Lyra, “Would you like your friends to leave or do you want them to stay while we discuss this?”
“Vinyl, would you like Lyra and Bon Bon to stay?” Octavia asked.
“…Sure.” The unicorn answered softly. Poultice quirked an eyebrow at Vinyl’s lackadaisical attitude, but didn’t mention it.
“The next step as we’ve mentioned before is to repair the herniated discs in your neck. We will do that surgically.” He levitated a pen out of his jacket pocket and tapped it against the front of Vinyl’s collar “the procedure is called an anterior cervical discectomy and spine fusion. In English, that means that we will make a small incision on the front of your neck, usually the left side, and we will remove the herniated discs. Then the surgeons will then put in a bone graft into the empty space that will fuse the vertebrae together. You will lose some of your range of motion, but since we are only fusing two vertebrae, the loss of motion should be fairly minimal.” He paused before continuing, a look of concern forming in his features. “Miss, are you alright?” he asked. Octavia turned to see Lyra, looking decidedly pale. Her pupils constricted to tiny pinpricks.
“Yea, I think I’m just gonna paaaaah-” she fell sideways, only to be caught in Poultice’s magic.
“Lyra!” Bon Bon and Octavia shouted. Poultice rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance.
“What? What’s happening?” Vinyl demanded nervously.
“Why is it that squeamish ponies never speak up?” Poultice asked nobody in particular. Using his magic to lay her on the small couch he disappeared into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a wet washcloth that he deposited over Lyra’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Bon Bon started, “She’s never had a problem with blood before.”
“It’s alright miss, surgical talk tends to make a lot of ponies, uh, uncomfortable. Keep that compress over her eyes and she’ll be fine in a few minutes. Now, where was I?” he put a hoof to his chin to think “Ah, yes. The surgery itself if surprisingly simple, most procedures only take three to five hours, and there is an extremely high rate of success. Most ponies also report very little post-operative pain. That said you would be on a liquid diet for a couple days just for safety. Any questions?”
“Who would do this surgery?” Octavia asked.
“I would,” Poultice answered. “I did one this morning as a matter of fact. To date in my career I’ve personally performed this procedure around two hundred times and assisted on many more.” He allowed himself a small show of pride.
“When would you do it?” she followed up.
“We could pencil Vinyl in for tomorrow morning at 7:00 if that’s what she wanted.” He answered. Octavia felt her heart clench nervously.
“What would you like Vinyl?” she asked as her hoof rested on Vinyl’s shoulder.
“…Okay…yea. That would be, uh, yeah.” Vinyl replied nervously. Poultice nodded.
“Alright, I will make the arrangements. Have you ever had a surgery for anything, Vinyl?”
“N-no.” she replied.
“Ahh, well don’t worry, they aren’t nearly as scary as you might have thought. What will happen is that tomorrow morning around 6:00 the anesthesiologist will come in and talk with you, then around seven the nurses will take you back to the operating room. Octavia can follow us down to the surgical suite, but then she will be taken to a waiting room until you’re done.
Once you’re in the room the anesthesiologist will give you some medicine to make you sleepy, then you’ll have a nice nap, and when you wake up you will be in a recovery room. You won’t remember a thing, and you’ll be swimming in painkillers for the better part of the day. Basically you’ll be the happiest mare in Equestria for about twelve hours. Sound good?” He smiled to her, earning a nervous grin in return.
“What happens after all that?” Octavia asked.
“Well, Vinyl will take it easy for a few days, and we’ll keep a close eye on her. If everything goes well, then someone from physical therapy will come in and they will see about getting your body working again.” He explained, Octavia nodded. “Anything else?” he asked with a kind smile.
“Nothing I can think of, what about you Vinyl?” Octavia stroked the unicorn’s foreleg.
“No…I’m good, I guess.” She answered.
“Alright then, I’ll go make the arrangements and be right back.” He started out of the room, pausing as he reached the door and turning back to point a hoof at Lyra “Don’t let her leave when she wakes up, I’ll take a look at her when I get back to make sure she’s okay. Understand?” he stated, his tone making it clear he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“We’ll be here.” Bon Bon answered.
Disappearing out the door he left the four mares to themselves. Lyra woke up several minutes later, more embarrassed than anything. Half an hour later Poultice returned and, after giving Lyra a quick exam and a sugar cookie, ordered all of them to get some rest. Lyra and Bon Bon stayed with Octavia and Vinyl for several hours before leaving again. Vinyl remained largely silent for the remainder of the day, lost in her thoughts. Eventually she asked Octavia to play for her again, which the earth pony happily obliged. That night, neither mare slept.
True to his promise, at 6:00 in the morning a knock at the door startled both mares from their daze. A dark blue unicorn stallion wearing sea foam green surgical scrubs trotted in, his whole attitude far too chipper for such an early hour.
“Gooooood Morning ladies!” he grinned broadly, earning a shudder of horror from both mares. He was a perky morning pony. “I’m Dr. Green Fields, I’ll be Vinyl’s anesthesiologist this fiiine morning.” He drawled.
“Fine and morning do not belong in the same sentence.” Vinyl groaned, earning a chuckle from Green Fields.
“Have you ever had any anesthetic before, Vinyl?” He asked as he read her chart, noting her age, height, and weight.
“No.” she answered.
“I assume you have no dentures, contacts, or oral piercings?” he asked.
“No sir.” She answered again.
“Good, good.” He put her chart down. “Alright, here’s what will happen. In a little bit the nurses will come and wheel you down to surgery. Once you’re in there I’ll give you an injection of a little doggie bag of drugs, antibiotics, pain meds, stuff like that. That injection will make you feel very, very good. After that Dr. Poultice will come in and we’ll put a mask on your muzzle, then you take a nap and we get to work. Nice and easy!” he grinned.
“Uh, okay…” Vinyl glanced nervously at Octavia.
“Where will I be?” the earth pony asked.
“A nurse will show you to the waiting room, until then you can stay with Vinyl.” He answered, Octavia nodded.
“Alright, I’ll see you soon Vinyl.” He said as he disappeared back out the door.
For a few minutes there was silence.
“Tavi?” Vinyl asked softly.
“Yes, love?” She answered, the concern etched on her face.
“I…I’m scared Tavi.” She admitted. Octavia frowned and kissed Vinyl’s forehead.
“So am I,” she whispered “so am I. But I’ll be here for you, and I swear I’ll be there when you wake up.”
Vinyl laughed softly “You’re all I’ve got left, Tavi. I’m so sorry I’ve put you through all this.”
“Don’t be sorry, Vinyl.” Octavia kissed Vinyl’s nose “We’ll get through this, together.”
A knock at the door and two earth pony nurses interrupted them.
“Are we all ready?” one of them asked with a kindly smile. Vinyl gulped nervously and used her magic to tug Octavia close.
“I love you Tavi, I love you so much.” She whispered
“I love you too, Vinyl. Don’t worry, Poultice is a good stallion, he’ll take care of you in there.” She smiled back.
After one last kiss, the two separated so the nurses could take hold of the bed. Unlocking the brakes they began wheeling it out of the room and down the hall. Octavia followed just behind until they reached a set of large aluminum doors with a sign above them labeled ‘SURGERY’. A third nurse, who had been waiting for them there, escorted Octavia away.
Vinyl’s heart raced as they wheeled her into the cold surgical suite. Bright lights seemed to surround her as did all types of ponies, each covered from head to tail in scrubs. Green Fields smiled at her from behind a surgical mask.
“Hiya Vinyl, how do you feel?” he asked.
“Scared out of my mind.” She answered through chattering teeth. Green Fields chuckled softly.
“I think I can help with that.” He said as he fitted a sytringe into her IV line. Within seconds a feeling of warmth filled Vinyl’s body. The ceiling seemed to list back and forth before her eyes and a sense of giddiness filled her.
“Whooooaaaaaah.” She felt herself relax even with the multiple ponies moving around her. Dr. Fields chuckled.
“They all say that.” He remarked.
“Can I have some of this to take home?” Vinyl slurred, “This stuff is sweet.”
Fields laughed out loud. “Sorry kiddo, you gotta enjoy it while it lasts.”
Vinyl’s attention was distracted as Dr. Poultice entered her vision.
“Morning Vinyl, how’s the doggie bag treating you?” he asked.
“Awesome.” She breathed.
“Excellent, let’s get this show on the road.” He nodded to Dr. Fields.
“Alright Vinyl,” Dr. fields placed a clear plastic mask over her snout. “I want you to take nice deep breaths and count down from ten for me, okay?”
“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six,” she counted, her head starting to feel funny. The ponies around her sounded increasingly distant. She didn’t notice as her mouth stopped working.
Five…
Four…
Three..
Two…
Her world went black.