Chapter Fifteen: Readjustments
Canvas never stopped running. He thought he saw the sun rise and set more than once. It looked like dusk (or maybe dawn) now. The amber sun was in front of him, blinding his left eye. The unswollen one. His whole face throbbed with so much pain, it kept him from thinking straight. He felt blood dripping, although he wasn't sure from where. His lungs felt like they were going to explode. But he kept his hooves moving, not stopping for anything.
His hooves. Earlier they stung and brayed like they were being ripped apart. Now they just gave off a pulsing numbness as he galloped along. He was sure they were in bad shape, but he didn't want to look down to see. Canvas didn't know what road he was on, nor did he really care. All he knew was that he needed to keep running. For as long as it took.
Breathing was itself a herculean effort, his throat so clenched up and dry that each breath came out in a pained wheeze. He saw a sign in the distance for Ponyville. Something yanked his tail, causing him to yelp and trip over his hooves. He landed in a mewling heap and the world spun. It was all he could do to stop himself from throwing up.
A shadow loomed over him. He turned to find a figure pinning him down. He couldn’t see his face, but he knew who he was. Trying to break free, Canvas could only watch in horror as the figure raised something over his head. The sun made it shine a ghastly shade of yellow. Canvas couldn't do anything. He couldn’t even scream. Only terrified silence came out of his mouth. The figure shrieked gutturally before striking.
Canvas screamed and shot up as he opened his eyes. Breathing heavily, the stallion looked around. He was back in his hotel room, a beam of light creeping in from Celestia's rising morning sun. It was all just a dream. Canvas put his hooves to his head, trying to calm down. He closed his eyes and sighed, sitting in silence and fear of what he remembered.
Suddenly, a loud blaring noise broke out within the room. The terrified pony shot out of bed like a bullet, only to realize that it was just the alarm clock. Canvas turned it off with a groan, quickly remembering about all he had to do today.
They can’t hurt you, Canvas thought. So why do you keep thinking about it?! The ponies here are here for you…
Aren’t they?
Sitting in the bare, white room, the sterile stench of disinfectant assaulted Canvas’ nostrils while an aura of magic moved over his face. Although the numbing spell Doctor Stable used was working, the stallion couldn’t help but wince as he watched the thread being pulled from his skin. He felt as if his whole face was being painlessly pulled apart by the doctor’s magic. Canvas bit his lips to cover his discomfort, but the doctor spotted it right away.
"Are you alright, Canvas?” asked Dr. Stable, cutting off his magic. “Are you feeling any pain right now?"
Canvas shook his head, being careful not to mess with Stable's progress. "No. It's just weird, you know?"
Stable nodded and went back to removing the stitches, his face showing nothing but an unemotional focus until he pulled the last of the thread from Canvas' aqua fur. "Alright, I think that's it! It looks like your wounds have healed tremendously. Would you like to see?"
Canvas nodded, and Stable used his magic to levitate a mirror over from the counter. In his reflection, Canvas could finally see his other eye without any bandages or stitches getting in the way. It was no longer swollen, but his right eye was still closed shut, and his eyelid was still slightly discolored. Stable then levitated something else from one of the drawers. "Your eye is mostly healed, though I’d still recommend that you wear this eyepatch over it until the bones are healed completely and the swelling goes down. You can make a game of it, if you want. Play pirate."
Seeing the eyepatch, Canvas nodded before grabbing it with his hoof, considering it for a moment before placing it over his right eye. He adopted a terrible accent and said, "Arr, ‘tis fortunate for you, ye saltless scallywag. Though ye be a landlubbing softshell, yer assistance has me in a good humor! You’ll walk the plank another day, Doctor Stable."
Rolling his eyes with an amused smile, Dr. Stable replied, “I take it back. You’d make an awful pirate.”
Canvas smirked. “I’ll have ye swab the poop deck for yer insubordination, stowaway! If not entertainin’ the sharks!”
“Stars above…” Stable shook his head. Canvas chuckled.
Canvas glanced at the closed door, feeling a weight in his stomach as he remembered what he promised Troy. He also remembered what he said to the doctor the last time he was here, and how concerned Stable was when he asked about the cause of Canvas’ injuries. So, after taking a deep breath, Canvas waited until Stable was done looking through his clipboard before speaking.
"So, Doctor…” Canvas looked down at the floor as he spoke. "You said that everything was… confidential… in this room… right?”
Doctor Stable looked back at the stallion with newfound interest, and placed his clipboard on the counter. "Yes, I did. Is there anything you wish to tell me?"
Stable waited while he watched Canvas fidget on the stool. Canvas took another breath, and stared straight at the doctor.
"I… I want to talk about what happened."
With Sweetie Belle out of her mane, Rarity was finally able to relax after a truly hectic morning. Despite her best attempts to keep her little sister from trying to burn down her boutique whenever the fancy struck her to attempt to fry omelettes, the little gremlin always seemed to find a way into the kitchen when Rarity's back was turned. Making Sweetie’s cooking seem like it was edible was a mountain of a task, but Rarity always pulled it off with a grace that should’ve won her an acting award. After getting her cookware cleaned and her kitchen free from the rancid smell of eggs, tears, and for some Celestia-forsaken reason, rubber, Rarity was happy when she heard knocking from her door.
The unicorn beamed when she saw Canvas at her front entrance, now with an eyepatch over his right eye and his art bag sagging at an alarmingly odd angle. It looked like the bottom would not hold for much longer.
Rarity also noticed that Canvas' mood was more sullen than expected, but she figured that the artist was just recovering from Pinkie Pie's antics from last night. Rarity shuddered as she remembered the first birthday party she threw for her. To this day she occasionally had nightmares about candy corn. She shook her thoughts aside and let Canvas in.
"Why, good morning, Canvas. Your timing is impeccable. How was your appointment?"
Canvas readjusted the straps of his bag, and wiped his hooves before entering the immaculately clean boutique. "It was fine. Doctor Stable said that I have to wear this eyepatch for a little while, but other than that, I'm in good shape." Canvas kept a strained smile on his muzzle, hoping the unicorn wouldn't ask much more. Luckily, Rarity was quick to lead him across her shop, which was lined with dozens of arrangements of impressive-looking outfits.
After a quick trot upstairs, Rarity opened the door to her bedroom and showed Canvas the bare, white wall she wanted him to design. Canvas looked a bit bewildered as he glanced over at the bed, taking note of how soft and supple the royal purple bedding looked, with a veritable sea of matching throw pillows one could sink into and lose one’s sense of up and down in. On the ground between the bed and the wall lay a small, clear tarp, with several small buckets of paint which were intricately arranged by color next to a small paint brush. Canvas was surprised to see that Rarity already had these things arranged for him before he arrived.
"I already picked out the colors I wanted for this design, and I wasn't sure what supplies you might already have. I do hope this is everything you need, darling."
Canvas nodded as he looked at the buckets, recognizing the brand of paint to be rather expensive. "Yeah, yeah, this is fine. I think I have everything I need at the moment."
Canvas pulled his art bag from his shoulder, pulling out his other supplies from inside. Since he paid for an extended stay at the hotel, Canvas could keep his paintings in the room, leaving only some spare paintbrushes and cleaning supplies in his bag (as well as some leftover treats from last night). Once the bag was finally emptied, Rarity carefully lifted it with her magic while Canvas started on the design, drawing it in full scale on the wall with a light graphite pencil strapped on his hoof.
"Take all the time that you need, and I'll get to repairing this bag for you." Looking at the various etchings on the expensive fabric, Rarity felt more than a little inclined to do more. "Would you be alright with me cleaning this while you're here?"
Canvas snapped his attention back to Rarity, biting his lip. "Um…” Rarity seemed confused at his hesitation, his eyes darting down at his bag like a gryphon watching its kit. "It's just that I really don’t want my markings to fade or anything."
"Oh, pish posh, my good stallion! I happen to know some spells which will clean the fabric and keep the material sleek and pristine. I'll be sure not to harm your writings."
Sensing the unicorn’s confidence with her promise, Canvas felt trusting enough to nod reluctantly. "Ummm, alright, I guess. Thank you."
With a quick nod, Rarity closed the bedroom door, letting Canvas continue with the project in peace.
Though she had several big projects to complete today, Rarity decided to fix the art bag first and foremost. This fashion catastrophe could not be allowed to persist! She couldn’t call herself a seamstress so long as a single tear went unthreaded under her roof. It was her duty to Hoity Toity, to Canvas, to fashion itself! She removed the pins and placed it on her sewing table, relieved to see that while the fabric was well-worn and ripped badly in some places, the repairs would be simple. She started by flipping the bag inside-out in order to reapply the bottom seams.
Meanwhile, Canvas finished drawing the basic layout.
He slowly drifted off into his mind, his focus lying solely on the wall before him. He applied the colors onto it from the assorted paint buckets. The colors spread across the plaster, slowly turning into the image laid out on Rarity's sketch.
This is what he lived for. This is what kept him going through the pain and heartache. The refreshing smell of fresh paint and paper; the reassuring feel of the paintbrush held against his hoof; the sensation of creation happening before his very eyes. No matter what, ever since he was a colt, Canvas had never felt more calm and carefree than when he was painting.
This time, however, his interaction with Doctor Stable kept replaying in his mind. Canvas described what happened to the doctor, feeling very much the same way he did when he told Troy. Only, where Troy felt a lot more comforting and supportive, Stable felt a lot more neutral, not saying or doing much as Canvas went on. It wasn't until after he said everything that Stable finally spoke, offering a box of tissues to Canvas with his magic.
"Canvas, I'm glad that you told me this. It must have been difficult to recall something like that."
Canvas could only nod as wiped his eyes with the tissue, glad to be able to wipe away his tears without the bandages in the way.
"Have you told anypony else about this?"
Canvas tossed the tissue into the nearby trash bin. "I… I told Troy a couple nights ago. But that's it."
Stable kept his gaze on Canvas, his expression stern. "Canvas, if what you're saying is true, then the authorities should be made aware of this." Canvas kept his eyes locked onto the floor between them.
Stable sat in front of him for a moment in wait, and eventually sighed when the silence persisted. “What happened to you was a hate crime, Canvas. That can’t be ignored."
Canvas’ eyes welled up again, and Stable hoofed him the tissue box before speaking calmly. "Listen, nopony ever said this was going to be easy. It’s pretty bucking hard, actually. But I hope you seriously consider talking to somepony who can help make sure this doesn’t happen again. To you or to somepony else."
Canvas slowly nodded, still looking away. "I'll… I’ll see what I can do."
Stable rested a hoof on Canvas’ shoulder. “That’s all I ask.”
By the time Canvas' mind cleared again, he was already finished with the painting. He had to admit that after seeing the end result, the floral pattern looked amazing in full scale. He made a few quick improvements to add to the detail, and then began cleaning his brushes, using a bucket of water that Rarity provided. He didn’t notice Rarity re-entering the room until he heard her gasp. When he turned around, he saw the unicorn staring at the design with a huge grin.
Rarity’s excitement was tangible, a wave that emanated from her and warmed the room. The mare bounced on her hind legs as she clapped her hooves together like a filly at a magic show, squeeing. "My stars, Canvas! It looks absolutely marvelous!"
"Well, thank you, Rarity.” Canvas wiped off the excess water and paint off his brushes with his rag before noticing that Rarity was holding up his art bag with her magic. She levitated it in front of him like some sort of mythical relic, and she couldn’t help but giggle as she saw Canvas' jaw drop at the sight.
“I suppose we are both artists in a sense of the word.”
True to her word, the art bag was repaired back to mint condition. The mare wore a prideful smile whilst Canvas stared at it in awe. He could see from the scrupulous stitching that this was no run-of-the-mill fair―this mare was the real deal, a prodigy at the top of her craft. To think all she’d asked for in return was a painting!
Additionally, the bag's fabric felt a lot softer in his hooves. He remembered what she said about cleaning it for him. Upon closer inspection, Canvas saw that all the years' worth of paint, food, and mud stains were completely gone, and the writings stood out all the more. Rarity raised a hoof to catch his attention.
"I hope you don’t mind, Canvas, but I took the liberty of re-applying your markings with a fade-resistant ink. That way, you would be able to wash it regularly without worrying about it fading or bleeding into the surrounding fabric."
Canvas saw that the ink on his bag was freshly applied, the design appearing as if it had come printed on the bag when it was still fresh off the store shelf. She had gone over every inch of his work with the new ink. Simply put, the end result looked completely natural and untouched.
When he looked inside, Canvas felt a weight in his stomach. She even did it for the mark on the bottom as well. The male symbols stood out to him with fresh ink like a neon sign, and Canvas looked back up to see Rarity smiling at him nonchalantly, like nothing was out of the ordinary.
"So, what do you think, darling?" she asked expectantly.
To think a pony would actually do something this nice for him. Canvas could only smile.
"I... I love it! It's absolutely perfect." Looking back at Rarity, Canvas could see her trying to hold back her excitement at seeing his happiness. He felt like he was going to cry again, almost at a loss of words for her. In a move unexpected to the both of them, Canvas pulled the mare in for a hug. "Th-Thank you so much, Rarity."
Smiling, Rarity nuzzled the stallion. “The pleasure is all mine, Canvas.”
Rarity was insistent on paying Canvas the price she’d promised the night before, despite his efforts to refuse. Canvas would've been fine with just having the fixed bag as payment, but Rarity still paid him the generous amount of bits, as well as a plate of macaroons she baked (without Sweetie Belle’s help, she insisted, much to Canvas’ confusion) before letting him leave for Sugar Cube Corner.
Canvas arrived at the bakery at around noon, much earlier than he previously thought he would. Walking inside, the pony was taken aback by the overpowering smell of burnt sugar that hit his nostrils like a cloying pepper-spray.
Covering his muzzle with his hoof, he saw the Cakes frantically skittering around back in the kitchen. When he readjusted his weight while standing, Canvas ended up inhaling too much of the sweetened air, coughing and catching the attention of Mrs. Cake.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Canvas! Pinkie Pie promised she wouldn't try making that brownie cannon during business hours! The dear is a baking savant, but there’s a time and a place!"
Looking around at the mass of ponies huddled into the shop, all of whom were in no better humor than himself, Canvas gathered that they were in the middle of a lunch rush. "Oh, it's alright." He just hoped it would be easier to breathe in the nursery. He figured that if Pinkie Pie did stuff like this regularly, then the Cakes had probably dealt with a lot worse than some burnt sugar, and that he should be grateful he came on this day.
After the Cakes did some necessary cleaning, Mr. Cake led Canvas upstairs to the nursery while his wife tended to the customers. Walking inside, Canvas saw that the nursery itself was pretty basic, with both cribs and all the furniture moved away from the walls. Canvas was surprised, however, to see that the walls already had an appealing design element, with a trippy-looking swirl pattern going along the light purple and blue colors.
He then looked at the sketch Mr. Cake gave him (which wasn't as well-drawn as Rarity's) to see what they were trying to go for: using the swirling patterns already there, the Cakes wanted to theme the walls after outer space, with solar systems and stars across the walls.
Impressed by their idea, Canvas looked over the walls to think of what to do while Mr. Cake brought in the paint buckets and the floor tarp. He looked through some books on outer space the Cakes already had, and soon, he had an idea of how to pull it off. Once everything was laid out and ready for Canvas, Mr. Cake closed the door to let him work in peace and went back downstairs to help his wife.
The explosion from Pinkie Pie's new contraption made Sugar Cube Corner almost uninhabitable for about an hour, but the Cakes managed to get everything back to normal before the lunch rush ended. After one busy afternoon (and sending Pinkie off to do some errands to get her out of their hair), Mr. and Mrs. Cake saw that it was getting close to dinner time.
“That mare’s giving me split ends,” said Mrs. Cake, smiling exhaustedly.
Mrs. Cake decided it was time to go upstairs to check up on the mural for the kids. She lightly knocked on the closed door, but didn't hear anything inside. Throwing caution to the wind, Mrs. Cake slowly opened the door, her eyes growing wide as she took in the nursery’s new look.
All four walls of the room were adorned with hundreds of stars, arranged in patterns around the swirls to make the whole room look like a window to the universe. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that there were distinct constellations, with very light lines painted to indicate which ones for the kids to see. The stars mirthfully twinkled in the enrapturing sea of pitch and purple, a breathtakingly faithful reflection of the Lunar Princess’ favored construction of her night sky.
Beholding it made her feel like a filly again, back when she ran through the fields at night and caught little fireflies in a jar so she could watch them buzz along, lighting each others’ way without a care in the world. To them, there was no jar; they were never confined. All that mattered was flying, because so long as they had wings, they could fly, and so long as they could fly, they were free. The night was beautiful for a firefly, because it meant they could shine all the brighter.
Mrs. Cake swore she could feel the brisk breeze blowing through her mane as she admired it all, and it was only the faint smell of burnt sugar that brought her back down to Earth. To think her foals would be lulled into a gentle sleep under such a wonder every night… The mare blinked, her eyes damp. Thank these painted smiling stars she caught Carrot, her own firefly.
On the wall next to the door was a stunning mural of the Horsehead Nebula, standing amongst the outer space background with vibrant shades of blue, yellow, and red. In the middle of the room laid a sleeping Canvas, small specks of paint covering his coat, his work speaking for itself. Mrs. Cake was almost speechless, only eventually uttering out an, "Oh my goodness," before running back downstairs to fetch her husband.
Canvas slowly stirred himself back awake when he heard the voices of ponies nearby. Opening his eyes, he saw the Cakes staring at the nursery walls in utter amazement, looking especially impressed by the Nebula mural. Canvas rose to his hooves, his neck feeling a little sore after using his bag as a makeshift pillow. The Cakes took notice, immediately shaking his hooves.
"I don’t have the words for it, Canvas! To think you did all this in one afternoon!"
Canvas nodded at Mr. Cake's praises, yawning a little as he tried readjusting his consciousness to reality. While the Cakes looked at his work some more, Canvas gave a profoundly strained stretch, glad to have gotten everything done. Mrs. Cake then looked back at him and cleared her throat.
"Canvas, would you like to stay for dinner tonight?” Canvas looked at her in surprise. Mrs. Cake gave him a kind smile. “You’ve worked yourself to the marrow, dear, and I couldn’t send you on your way hungry after all your help."
Canvas blinked a couple times, thoughtfully considering her offer. Mr. Cake chimed in as well.
"I think that's a great idea! Lyra and Bon-Bon are coming over tonight, and we would be more than happy if you joined us."
Canvas felt another tug in his heart as he realized how long it'd been since he'd been welcomed to something so personal. His thoughts went back to how he usually ate alone in Gallop Creek, being the only one at home when he got done with classes. Aside from his dinner with Troy the other night, Canvas couldn't remember the last time he ate a meal with other ponies.
"I… I would love that. Thank you."
After the Cakes showed Canvas to the bathroom, he used their shower to wash off the excess paint splattered over his coat and mane. While brushing the tangles out of his mane, he heard several new voices and hoofsteps, which eventually made their way upstairs. He then heard two distinct female voices shout, "Holy cow!" Chuckling to himself, he opened the bathroom door, seeing Lyra and Bon-Bon staring awestruck at the nursery walls before noticing him.
"Canvas! I knew it. Only one pony could be responsible for this!"
Lyra ran up and hugged Canvas immediately. He was surprised at first by her greeting, but was quick to hug her back, finding himself getting used to the casual displays of affection unique to Ponyville. He felt acknowledged. Wanted. He squeezed the mare, letting her know he appreciated the gesture more than words could ever express. Lyra squeezed back, as though to say, “You’re not alone so long as I’m around, you big lug.” Once he let go of Lyra, Canvas saw that Bon-Bon was still looking at the mural of the Horsehead Nebula.
She nodded to herself. "Yup,” she said, popping the ‘p’ as she tilted her head, her expression blank. “So this is what she meant about that muse..."
Canvas grinned sheepishly, rubbing his foreleg as he heard more hoofsteps coming up the stairs. All three ponies looked to see Mrs. Cake removing her apron. She gave a warm smile and directed a hoof to the stairs.
"Well guys, dinner's ready!"
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4146106
Spaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaace!
Superb, not suburb. Also, I'm loving this story. Was recommended to me by a friend, and I think I owe him something for recommending it. Well done.
5347269
What about a superb suburb?
I see the faults with the story, but its just so dang easy to look past them. Excellent job!
You could probably use an editor somewhere in there