Coping Colors

by Fleeting Song

Salmon

When Pinkie is asleep and I'm still awake, I realize just how amazingly boring this place is. It looks boring, it smells boring. It's like time passes slower when nothing is happening to speed it up.

This morning it's taking Pinkie longer than usual to wake up. At about 10:30 A.M. I start to get anxious. Pinkie's always been a morning pony. She's been an evening and afternoon pony, too. She just doesn't sleep much. I look at her resting on her bed, still fast asleep. I know I shouldn't do this, but I can't stand to wait any longer. I poke her with my hoof.

She doesn't wake up.

I speak quietly into her ear. "Good morning, Pinkie Pie." She doesn't move. I guess I just have to wait a little longer for her. I head out to get an early lunch.

I come back at noon and she's still sleeping. She went to bed at nine last night, there's no reason for her to not be wide awake by now. I look and see the meal a nurse must have brought in has gone untouched. Something's wrong.

With a pulling feeling in my stomach and panic swelling in my head, I run to get Doc. In a couple minutes, I find him on his own lunch break. I tell him about my concerns, while keeping calm and collected.

"Doc! Pinkie Pie! Not waking up! Problem!"

He seems to understand. Quickly, he gets up and starts on the way to Pinkie's room, and I follow, neither of us saying anything. When we get back to Pinkie Pie's room, she's just as I left her. Asleep. The only movement she makes is the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. The look of contentment and peace on her face, which was so interesting a couple days ago, now feels disturbing. It doesn't belong in this place, on this pony. Doc gets some medical tools and runs his doctor analysis on Pinkie. Every second that passes with him standing over her and using some instrument I don't entirely understand makes me more anxious.

I wonder if this is it. I wonder if this is going to be the day that Pinkie... dies. I have to accept that word now. Pinkie Pie could die. Pinkie Pie could actually die. With that thought, I feel myself now starting to hold back tears. I never cry, ever, but this situation is enough to make me come close. I need to get a hold of myself, calm down. First, I need to find a good reason to calm down. Think, Dash. Pinkie could die, but she's not dead yet. She may be very close, but she's not dead yet. That means there's hope that she can end up not dying. Don't cry over possibilities.

Doc finishes his examination and looks back at me. His face is a mask, hiding whatever emotion he has right now. That's not a good sign.

"Wait here, and stay calm." I can do at least half of that. He leaves and returns a minute later with two nurses.

"Rainbow Dash," Doc says, "We're going to do what we can to get a full diagnosis of Pinkie Pie. While this is going on, we need you to wait outside."

I want to protest, but decide that I don't really want to be in the room where they figure out whether my best friend is ever going to be awake again. I walk out and wait.

Waiting is the worst.

4 P.M. Pinkie's been out for the past 43 hours, which have been the worst of my life.

Doc told me that Pinkie's in some kind of coma. They wired her up to a machine to monitor her heart rate, stuck some tubes in her to feed her, and have a nurse check in every hour. That's not really needed, because I'm now here every minute. I'm hurting so much, and the only way to relieve the pain is to stay here and watch Pinkie Pie. Seeing her shallow but present breathing, hearing the constant beeping that tells me her heart is still working, that's all that keeps me from breaking down. It's now my food being brought by a nurse instead of Pinkie's. I'll remember to pay for all of it when this is over, one way or another.

The girls showed up today, this time for my sake more than Pinkie's. They shared their condolences and gave me their own sadness and worry. I wonder if it makes me selfish that I don't care as much about how they're handling it as I care about my own feelings. They definitely cared about me, though. Hugs, tears (all theirs) and sappy words were exchanged, and it made me feel just a little better. I'd started to think nothing could make me feel better. If Pinkie's my best friend, the other four are tied in a close second. Not many ponies care about me like they do.

Nurse pokes her head in. "Rainbow Dash," she says, "there's someone here to see you."

"Tell them to come in, then," I say.

"That may not be a good idea."

"Why?" I get up to walk out the door, first taking a look back at Pinkie, as if I need to make sure she'll be okay while I'm gone. I step out into the hallway. As soon as I get out the door, I'm greeted by the most excited little orange ball of pony in existence. Scootaloo.

"Hey, Rainbow Dash!" she says. "What's up?"

I blink. I like Scootaloo, I really do, but I don't think I'm up for this right now.

"Sorry I'm late, but you weren't usually where I find you so I had to ask some ponies where you were and they said you were at the hospital and I—" is all she manages to say before I interrupt her.

"Scoots, what are you doing here?"

"It's Thursday, don't you remember?"

Oh. I facehoof. Now I understand. Every Thursday, Sweetie Belle has singing lessons after school and Apple Bloom has extra chores, so I promised that on those days she could hang out with me. Today, things will have to go a little differently.

"Scootaloo, I know you were looking forward to hanging out today, but I kind of have to stay here." Her expressions sags a little, but she still looks optimistic.

"That's okay, I can just stay here with you!"

I'm about to tell her she can't, but I keep looking at her face. Those eyes, looking at me like I'm the best thing in the world, a treasure. Even looking at that treasure is an amazing experience, but to have it with you and be yours even when you walk away from it is empowering. I've only gotten that look from one other pony, and thinking about it gives me literal heartache. I give in.

"Sure Scootaloo, you can stay with me a little while."

"Awesome!" She makes to enter the door I came out of, but I stop her. The nurse was right, it wouldn't be a good idea to let Scootaloo's impressionable young mind see Pinkie Pie in the state she's in.

Ugh, I sound like my mother.

"How about we stay out here in the hall? It's cramped and hot in there, but this hallway's got a lot of space in it. We could just lay down out here!"

"Okay?" Scootaloo raises an eyebrow at me, but moves away from the door and sits down in front of the wall. I sit next to her, and we're quiet for a minute.

"Rainbow Dash, why are you stuck here in the hospital? Are you hurt?" I shake my head.

"Do you see any bandages?"

"Are you sick?" she asks. I smile as I get the feeling this guessing game might last a while.

"Nope. If I were sick, there's no way I'd let you get close to me and get you sick too."

"Is someone else sick?"

My smile falls off my face. That was pretty quick. I scratch the back of my neck.

"Yeah. Someone else is sick."

"Who is it?"

"Pinkie Pie." Her eyes get a little wider, like she's had a realization.

"Oh, I heard about that. Is she okay?"

"I don't know." The words slip out before I can catch them. I shouldn't have said that. Scootaloo looks shocked.

"You don't know? What do you mean you don't know?" No turning back now, might as well let her in on what's happening.

"Pinkie's had a big sickness with some really bad symptoms, mainly the two strokes she's had. A couple days ago she fell asleep and hasn't waken up since. The doctor thinks she might be in a coma. So, I don't know whether she's going to be okay."

Scootaloo is still for a moment. She doesn't say anything, and her face doesn't change from a simple stare with a frown. She turns her head away and looks at the ground. I do the same and just focus on the texture of the floor. We sit quietly like that for a few minutes. Eventually, I decide to break the silence.

"You okay, Scootaloo?"

"Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just... I wasn't expecting to hear something like this today, you know?" I nod. I take a deep breath in, and then out. Maybe this will be good for me.

"Let me tell you something," I say. Scootaloo turns and gives me her attention.

"What is it, Dash?"

"I'm really scared right now, Scoots. Scared out of my mind. Pinkie's super important to me, and I don't know what I'll do if she goes away. I try to remind myself that it's not completely hopeless, but every minute that passes makes me more sure that she won't make it."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Usually when you say something like that, you follow it up, turn it into something positive. It becomes motivational and encouraging."

"Not this time, kiddo. I don't feel motivated or encouraged right now."

I hear something make a tiny plop. I look down, and notice that a tear got out of my eye, made its way down my face, and hit the floor. I try to come up with something to say, anything to make Scootaloo's idol still seem like the invincible, pure force she always thought it was. Before I can, she wraps her forelegs around me in a hug. I close my eyes and return it.

Scootaloo's visit has made me feel much better. Not completely better, not nearly. At this point, though, I'll take what I can get.

Pinkie is getting paler. She looks less and less like the pony who bounces around and throws parties, and more like a pony who never stands up. My legs have started to ache. I've been in this hospital for over a week now, and haven't left much. Doc recommended that I go out and run, fly, or do something resembling physical activity, but I can't bring myself to do it. If Pinkie woke up while I was gone, or if she died, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if she was alone.

I'm grateful for the ponies who visit. The girls, the Crusaders, and even ponies in Ponyville who just heard Pinkie was sick pay her bed a visit. They come for Pinkie Pie, and they stay a while to console me. I protect my pride, and when they get too sad, sentimental or sappy, I change the topic to brighter, more casual things. The visits distract me from the situation, even if it's just for a little while. They're what keep me from completely losing it. They don't make everything better, though, and as soon as they leave, I'm back to watching Sleeping Beauty, and feel myself holding back tears yet again.

10 A.M. I've just had breakfast, and I'm sitting in with Pinkie again. Sometimes I wonder if it was a good idea to stay here with her. I think sometimes about all the stuff I'm missing outside. All the hours I could spend having fun like I always do, I'm spending sitting here doing literally nothing but wait for Pinkie Pie and read books kept by the hospital. I feel a little bit of regret at those times, and wonder if I've really made a wise decision. With a look back at Pinkie Pie, all that doubt vanishes, and is replaced with thoughts of how much I care about her.

Pinkie's left foreleg, which is resting on her chest with her right, twitches. I gasp and rush to her side as fast as my legs can take me.

"Pinkie? Are you there?"

Her other legs start to move, her chest shifts position, and her eyes open very slowly. Once she's fully awake, the first thing she notices is all the machinery attached to her.

"Woah, where'd all this come from? Did the medical ponies set it up overnight?" I scratch the back of my neck. Pinkie's going to learn something soon that might make her pass out again. Maybe I should lie for now, to keep her calm.

"Yeah, they did."

"But why didn't I wake up when they did that? I'm not that much of a heavy sleeper. And why do I feel so weak? It's like I haven't moved in a month!"

I bite my lip. Some lies don't last very long.

"Pinkie, there's something I've gotta tell you."

"What is it, Rainbow Dash?

"You have moved in the last month, but this is the first time you've been awake in eleven days."

Pinkie stares at me for a moment, her face showing nothing but disbelief.

"Eleven days?! That can't be, I've never slept for eleven days straight! Is this because of my sickness? What have I missed? Am I gonna—"

"Easy, Pinkie! You're awake now, so everything's fine. You stay right there, I'll go get Doc and be back ASAP. Don't pull on any cords or tubes." With that, I retrieve our favorite physician and have him in Pinkie's room within a minute. Doc keeps the neutral expression he always uses as he approaches and just looks at Pinkie.

"Well Miss Pie, you appear to be in stable condition," he says. He tells Pinkie to hold still, and he removes all the wires and tubes so Pinkie can sit normally again. Pinkie looks relieved. Waking up with all those attachments probably made her really uncomfortable.

"Just relax for a few minutes, I'm going to fetch two nurses. We're going to do some x-rays, analyse your heart rate data, and give you some medicine to be taken through the mouth. Stay calm and relaxed, and everything will be fine." He walks out, and I'm here with Pinkie Pie again, who is awake for the first time in way too long. I have to stop myself from jumping on her as I embrace her in a big hug filled with all the emotions that have built up since the last time I saw her awake.

I don't even try to hold back the tears anymore. I cry. I weep like a foal. It's one thing when you're dealing with tears of sadness, but it's another with tears of joy. I'm more joyful than I've been in a while.

"I was so worried," I say quietly. "I thought you might never wake up again, and, and..." I trail off. I just meet her eyes. Eyes filled with care and kindness. She smiles softly and touches my cheek with her hoof.

"I'm okay, Dashie."

"You're okay." I can't keep the relief from coming, the smile from stretching across my face. That heavy weight is off my back again, and I feel free.

Doc comes in and asks Pinkie to try to walk. Slowly, he emphasizes. Pinkie carefully gets out of bed and manages to stand up straight. She walks forward with the rough speed of a tortoise, and confirms that she can, in fact, walk. He leads her out of the room, presumably to the x-ray room, and I'm left alone to bathe in the happiness that comes with knowing Pinkie is okay.

I need to tell the others about this. I run out into the hallway and out of the hospital to find our friends and give them the great news.

The six of us are together around Pinkie's bed, each excitedly sharing news, thoughts, or just small talk with the newly revived Pinkie Pie. When I gave everypony the news, they were just as excited as I was. They all came back again today to celebrate and spend time with Pinkie, and I can tell she's enjoying every minute. We're all riding an unstoppable high because our friend Pinkie Pie is kicking once again.

Doc comes in with a clipboard in front of him, and we all turn our heads to look at him. He looks more solemn than normal. He clears his throat.

"I have something to tell Pinkie Pie alone, so I must ask the rest of you to leave."

We start to protest, but Pinkie pipes up. "Whatever you need to say, you can tell all of us."

"Very well," he says. "Pinkie Pie, we looked at your results, and it seems to have gotten worse since its diagnosis. Far worse, I'm afraid." Everyone drops any happy attitude and replaces it with seriousness and fear. After a long pause, he speaks.

"Judging from the data, the way things are now, you have roughly three days to live."

The world freezes.

I used to wonder what drowning felt like. I thought it would probably be one of the worst ways to go. When you're drowning, you know that the end is coming. You feel the water work its way into your system and kill you from the inside, you feel incredible pain and discomfort, and though you will try to resist, there's ultimately no escape. I'm drowning.

A couple ponies gasp, and everyone looks at Pinkie. She's trying her best to be strong, I can tell, but I see water in her eyes. She's shaking slightly, but she keeps herself composed.

"Doc," I say. "There's gotta be some way to fix it. Some way to save Pinkie Pie, please. Anything." Shame on me for not being as composed as Pinkie. The water in my eyes is already coming out. Doc clears his throat.

"There is the option of putting Pinkie into a medically induced coma and performing advanced treatment. It would likely take several weeks, and the odds of success are slim."

"How slim?" I say. Irrational hope always seems to work its way back into me.

"Five percent," he says. "Rounded up."

"What? Well... it's better than nothing, right Pinkie?" I turn to find her looking down at nothing in particular, lost in thought.

"If I agree to treatment," she says, "what exactly will I be doing?"

"It's quite simple," says Doc. "We would need to start as soon as possible, ideally within the next hour. You would be injected with drugs designed to put you in a coma-like state to slow all of your biological processes. From there, our medical team would use every procedure possible in an attempt to cure you of your ailment. However, some potential treatments can in themselves be dangerous, and your disease will still be at work, so there's a high chance of you dying while under. If that were the case, it would be like going to sleep and never waking up."

Pinkie keeps looking down, considering everything. Seconds tick by, her future hanging in the balance. She takes a deep breath and looks the doctor in the eye.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'd rather not be treated."

"WHAT?!"

That came from me. Everypony stares at me, but before anyone else can speak, Pinkie continues talking to Doc.

"So, if I'm guaranteed to... die, either way, is there any real reason for me to stay here?"

"None that I can see."

"In that case, I'd like to go home."

"I can arrange that for you." Doc walks out of the room, leaving five sad ponies and one very angry pony. I turn to Pinkie, unable to stop myself from shouting.

"Why won't you take the treatment? Do you just want to die?" Pinkie shrinks away from me, and doesn't meet my eyes.

"Of course not, Rainbow Dash," she says. "I just want to spend my last days alive doing what I like, and I can't do that if I'm comatose."

"Wouldn't you rather not die at all?"

"I would. I don't think a five percent chance is worth me not giving a good goodbye, though."

"But-"

"Rainbow Dash," she says, interrupting me. She gives me a stern look. "What would you do, if it was you instead of me?"

I would do exactly what she's doing. There's no way I'd put my own wellbeing above giving my friends closure. I would deny treatment and make sure I could get my affairs in order. She's totally right. But I still hate this.

Instead of telling her so, I walk over to the window, open it up, and fly out into the open night air. I might be able to breathe, but I'm still drowning.

All day, I feel frustrated. Why couldn't Pinkie understand? I want what's best for her, for us, and that's Pinkie taking whatever chance she has at staying alive. I want her to be happy more than anything, and she can't be happy if she's dead. I can't be happy if she's dead.

I need to clear my head. I head to Sweet Apple Acres, not to talk to anypony but to breathe in the apple-smelling air. I walk between two rows of Red Delicious trees, taking in the atmosphere. I distract myself from all the terrible thoughts I have by watching bugs crawl around and noticing how the wind blows the trees. After being cooped up in the hospital with Pinkie for so long, being outside again is a little disorienting. All the movement and little details that keep adjusting, and it's all alive.

It's a lot to be taking in again all at once, and I get so lost in the breathtaking reality that I barely notice myself drifting off to sleep with the cool breeze.

"Dash, if you keep falling asleep in my orchard like this, we're gonna have a problem."

I groggily open my eyes and see that the sky has turned dark. I also see an annoyed Applejack standing over me. She grabs my hoof and helps me up.

"What are you doin' out here?" she says.

"I was just... I don't know," I say. "Resting. Thinking. Stuff like that."

"You still upset about that whole thing with Pinkie Pie?"

"What thing?"

"Her deciding not to get her sickness treated."

I nod, frowning. "You aren't?"

"I was at first, but I reckon I don't have the right to be upset. It really is her decision to make, after all. When it comes to the life of somepony you care about, you've got to respect their best wishes. Speaking of which," she says, taking off her hat and pulling a piece of paper out. "Pinkie was really wishin' you were there today."

I take the note and start reading:

Hey, Dashie!

I didn't get to talk to you today, and I wonder if it's because you're still mad about my choice. I'm sorry that it made you so upset, but I'm not even a little sorry for making it. I really wish I could spend more time with you, though. If you aren't still angry, I really want you to come see me tomorrow. Pretty Please?

Your Bestest Friend Forever,
Pinkie

That's when I realize how selfish I've been.

Pinkie Pie only had three days to live, and I just wasted one on my petty emotions and inability to accept things as they are. The understanding is like a guilt-filled slap to the face. I can still make it right, though. Tomorrow's my chance to set everything straight with Pinkie Pie. I won't screw it up.

"Thanks for the talk AJ, really helped out. Gotta go!" I fly off without allowing her to respond, which seems to be something I do often.

Thanks to all the conversations I've had with my marefriend, I know just where I can find an open party supply store at this hour.

I knock on the door. I probably look pretty silly holding all these balloons in my mouth, which is perfect. In a second, the door opens and I see Pinkie Pie. She takes a moment to process what she's seeing, then grins. With that, all my worries about her reaction disappear.

"Hey. Come on in!" She says. I enter Pinkie Pie's bedroom and release the balloons to float up to the ceiling.

"What are all those for?" she asks.

"They're my 'I'm sorry for not respecting your best wishes so please forgive me' balloons. I thought you might like them, they're the helium kind."

"They're great, Dashie." She looks around the room. I stand for a moment, not knowing what to say.

"So," I say. "What do you think you're going to do today?"

"Wait."

"Wait?"

"I'm just going to stand here and wait."

Whoa. This doesn't seem like Pinkie at all. I was sure she would want to go out and do something, especially given that these next couple days will literally be her last. The weight is back with that thought, but being with Pinkie lifts it enough that it can be ignored.

"Don't you wanna, you know, do something?" I ask. "Standing around and waiting doesn't seem healthy." She looks at her hoof.

"You know, I never did get an actual wristwatch. Maybe I should put that on my bucket—never mind."

"Pinkie, I really think it would be nice to head outside, get some sun, talk to your friends. Maybe we could visit AJ at Sweet Apple Acres, or Fluttershy at her cottage with all the cute animals. What do you say?"

"Nope, I've gotta stay here and wait."

"Why?"

There's a knock on the door. Pinkie opens the door and in walks a pony walks in that I don't recognize.

"Oh, Pinkie Pie!" says the unknown pony. She has a thick Camterlot accent.

"Hi, Fortune!" says Pinkie. "You're the first one to show up!"

"Hang on," I say. "First of what?"

"My first goodbye visitor!" says Pinkie. "Twilight helped me arrange this. Everypony I've ever spoken to is going to get a message at a certain time telling them to head here for one last conversation with me. Each message comes with a number, and the lower it is, the sooner their turn is. Each one should last about three minutes or so."

"Cool!" I say. I sit down and watch. Pinkie and Fortune share an uncomfortable look.

"Uh, Rainbow Dash, this is a little awkward, but I'll need you to leave while I'm talking to these ponies."

"What? Why?"

"We're gonna be having deep, personal conversation, and the words I've got for them aren't for you to hear."

"But—"

"Please, Dashie? It's just for today."

That wouldn't be such a big problem if today weren't half of Pinkie's remaining lifespan. With my ears and head low, I leave the room without a word.

I decide to wait outside Sugarcube Corner and just watch the ponies. That ends up being surprisingly rewarding. Within half an hour, a bunch of ponies go into the shop, and only one comes out every five minutes or so. First it's mostly ponies I don't recognize who look like they're from out of town. Soon, the ponies of Ponyville start to go in. Some are ponies I've just seen but never talked to, others I only talk to when I need to. Eventually, ponies I really recognize show up, ponies that I talk to a lot, and Pinkie probably talks to them too. It's amazing how many friends Pinkie Pie has made in her life.

I notice something even more amazing.

This should be a really sad time, right? Pinkie, everypony's friend, is nearly dead. While I do see the occasional sad or crying pony, that's not the main feeling. Everypony here is socializing while they wait. Talking to each other, both in the Corner and outside. They chat, smiling and laughing. A massive get-together involving every pony Pinkie Pie knows.

One last party from the premiere party pony.

Somepony taps my side. I turn and notice Ditzy Doo, holding a letter out to me.

"This is for you, Rainbow Dash."

"Thanks." I take the letter and open it as she flies off.

478

I have a meeting with Pinkie Pie, too? I'm not going to question it, I've been dying for the chance to talk to her again these past few hours. I walk into the Corner.

Mr. Cake calls out number after number, and I anxiously wait for mine to be called. I don't talk much to the other ponies. I only care about conversation with one right now. Time passes. The crowd dwindles, and ponies leave one by one as fewer are waiting for their visit with Pinkie. Soon, there are only five ponies left with cards.

"Number 478!"

That's me. I raise my hoof and start walking towards the stairs up to Pinkie's room when I notice that everyone else has done so as well. Twilight, Applejack, Fluttershy and Rarity all started moving at that number.

"I guess she wants to see all of us together," says Twilight.

We walk up the stairs very quietly, not a word passing between us. We get to the door and I knock. It opens slowly, and on the other side I see the spitting image of exhaustion. Pinkie's eyes are sagging, her face is lax. As soon as the door is open and we start walking through, she lies down on her back.

And she's never looked happier.

"Hi, girls!" she says. We give our own halfhearted greetings.

"It's been a really long day," she says. "I mean, talking to everypony is great and all, but I'm pooped!"

We all stand in silence. I look at each of the girls. No one knows what to say. I don't know who moves first, but soon we're all crowded around Pinkie Pie, hugging her, hugginh each other, and not saying a word for three minutes. It's not a happy time, it's just time we spend with each other to make the dense feelings we have into something better. Suddenly Pinkie motions us to move back a bit so she can address us all at once.

"Girls," she says. "You five are the best friends I've ever had. All the great things we've done together and all the laughter we've shared has made me the happiest pony in the world. I'm sorry that I won't be around to laugh with you much longer, but I hope you'll all be happy without me. Now, come hug me some more."

No problem.

Eventually, the five of us leave and let Pinkie get some sleep. It's now ten o'clock, and she probably needs it.

Standing outside in the cool night air, we five share a look. Fluttershy speaks first.

"I can't believe that tommorrow, she's supposed to..." She trails off.

"I know what you mean," says Twilight. "Even now she seems so full of life. I'm having trouble comprehending that she won't be here much longer."

"I wonder what it will be like," says Rarity. "Having our get-togethers and such without Pinkie Pie present."

"I reckon it'll be pretty hard for a while," says Applejack. "But Pinkie wouldn't want us to fret much about her. She'd want us to be strong and be happy without her."

I get angry. "You're talking like she's already gone."

I shake my head and fly off before anypony has a chance to respond. I try to focus on breathing deeply and take in all the nighttime views. I just don't know what to think. Maybe now's not the time for thinking. Now that everything's set in stone, maybe all there is left to do is wait.

When I get home, I notice that a letter has been dropped off at my doorstep. I open it up. The message is short:

479

I rush back to Sugarcube Corner, and before I know it I'm knocking on Pinkie's door again. It opens.

"Hey, Dashie!" she says. "Listen, I've kind of gotten used to falling asleep with somepony next to me. Would you mind staying the night?"

"Pinkie, I would spend the night with you every night for the rest of your life if you asked."

She smiles. "Thanks. I've got an extra bed." She pauses, like she's wanting to say something more. "Rainbow Dash?"

"Yeah?"

"I kind of want to ask you something, but I'm a little embarassed, and afraid of how you'll react. But, there's no reason to put i it off. Rainbow Dash, do you want to have s—"

"YES!"

"—some sandwiches?"

I feel my face get really hot all of a sudden. "Uh, yeah, that sounds good. I'm starving."

"Great! There's a whole plate of hay sandwiches down in the kitchen that nopony got around to eating. Bring those up."

I walk to the kitchen with the fastest, yet most casual walk in the history of fast casual walks.

When I get back to the room with the sandwiches on a plate, Pinkie Pie is already in bed. She looks at me and smiles. Then she does that really cute thing where she yawns, stretches out her hooves, grabs the cover and pulls it up over herself. I get in the bed next to hers, and guess that the food will probably stay uneaten.

The lights go out, and I lie on my side, watching Pinkie sleep. She's still here. Tomorrow, I know, she'll go away, but for right now, I can see her breathe. It's weak and uneven, and it sounds kind of painful, but she's breathing. She looks so calm and at ease that I can't help but feel the same way. Like everything is okay, and everything will be okay.

I fall asleep with Pinkie Pie for what I know will be the last time.

I wake up, feeling groggy, as usual. I rub my eyes and open them, and notice the ceiling is unfamiliar. For a moment I forget where I am. I get into an upright position and look around, and everything comes back. I notice Pinkie's bed is empty. I look and see her standing over by the window, looking out on Ponyville. I walk up next to her, and she turns to look at me.

"Oh hey, you're awake."

We stand in silence for a few minutes. I watch the ponies outside on the street. They go about their days, not caring about what I know is going to happen today. Even when it does happen, they probably won't care that much. They'll just carry on. I wish I could join them.

"What do you want to do today?"

"What is there to do?"

"Well, just standing around and waiting wouldn't be healthy."

We both laugh, but just a little. Even humor won't work now. What can we do? Where could we go, when Pinkie could literally die at any second?

Pinkie starts, "Why don't we— Ah!" I turn in surprise, and see her fall to the ground, wincing in pain. She's breathing harder and more quickly, and I know that this is it. This is the moment I've lived in fear of since the day of diagnosis. There's nothing I can do but be here. I get down, touch Pinkie's hooves with my own, and tell her to try to relax. She does the most amazing thing then. She smiles.

"Dashie, thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything. For being a good friend. For caring. Thanks for just being you. You're the pony I fell in love with, after all."

For a second, I can't think of anything to say. I figure it out quickly, though.

"No, thank you, Pinkie. For being even better than me."

"Yeah, I am pretty great."

She laughs, and I can't help but smile. She always makes me smile. When she stops, she winces.

"I never thought it would hurt so much to laugh. I guess that's pretty ironic, huh? I don't really want to stop, though, even if it hurts." She opens her eyes and looks at me, still smiling but serious. "Dashie, I want you to promise me something."

"Anything."

"Promise me you'll keep laughing, no matter what. That you'll always be the strong, happy pony I know."

I raise one hoof. "Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye."

She laughs again. As she does so, she gasps and grabs her side. She rolls over, clenching her teeth, but soon smiles again and keeps making eye contact.

"It's funny, in a way. Here I thought I would be ready at the very end, but now that I'm here, I kinda wish I had more time. That's the thing about life. It can be really good sometimes, but it has awful pacing." She grabs my right forehoof tightly with her left, and I hold on to it like it's the most important thing in the world.

"Tell the other girls that I love them too, okay?" Still smiling, she closes her eyes, shedding a single tear.

It happens bit by bit. Her breathing becomes more shallow and less pained. Then it stops altogether. Most of her muscles relax, but she still holds my hoof tightly, like that's the last bit of the world she wants to have with her.

As her grip weakens, I feel the most important pony in the world leave me behind.