• Published 30th Aug 2013
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Changing Lives - Eakin



The Time Loop Trilogy is a big place, and Twilight didn't see all of it. Cloud Kicker has a very different perspective on how it all went down.

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You Can't Go Home Again

YOU CAN’T GO HOME AGAIN

I swear to Celestia, if this train doesn’t get to Canterlot soon I’m going to kill something.

It doesn’t help that I already have the ideal target sitting across from me, glaring right back with just as much intensity. Kicky and I, well, in the last few days words have been exchanged. Mostly petty and unimportant ones. But that’s a long way from actually talking, y’know? Apparently we’re equally stubborn as well as equally bangable.

I don’t know where her head’s at with this whole rejoining the Guard thing, seeing how that would require talking to her about it. And talking will mean fighting. And I know me well enough to know that fighting her over a decision is just going to make her commit to it even harder out of sheer spite, so that’s a non-starter. So that leaves... glaring at one another for hours on the train to Canterlot to check in with the rest of the clan. Her idea; she’s been itching to find out how they’ll react to her existence. My bet is ‘not well.’ After all, they were here during both invasions and I was off in Ponyville. Probably lost friends in the attacks. That’s not something you necessarily get over quickly. Could be a very long weekend.

“You think about what you’re going to say to Mom when you see her?” I ask, extending the tiniest little olive branch.

“I was thinking ‘Tie some strings around my hooves and make me dance.’ Wasn’t that your suggestion?”

Ah. She might still be a little sore about that ‘being their puppet’ bit. Just a bit. Olive branch rejected, then, and it’s back to riding the rails in silence. At least I can see the tip of Canterlot Mountain peeking up over the horizon. “Look, I still think you’re being a stupid jerk about this.”

“Have we always sucked this bad at apologies?”

But,” I press on despite her little snipe, “I think we should go in there presenting a united front. At least have a plan for when the question comes up, because we both know it will.”

“I’ll be happy with anything that doesn’t get me run out of town. Or lynched. Although from what Sweetie Drops said in her last note that probably won’t be a problem.”

I raise an eyebrow at that particular revelation. “You two write? After what she pulled back at the Sun’s Flank?”

“I’m not saying I’ll be inviting her over for tea anytime soon, but yeah. I’m still in touch with a lot of former changelings who don’t want to come out as... that.”

I frown at her. “And of course you still aren’t going to tell me who they are. Have you thought about what’ll happen if your future commanding officer asks for their identities?”

She shrugs. “End up thrown into a cell for defying the order, probably. But it sounds like most of the unit is made up of ex-changelings. They’ll get it. If it makes you feel any better, I have been trying to get the others to make the choice to own up to other ponies on their own terms. Haven’t been having much luck so far, but you were the one who said to give it time.”

As wonderful as it is to learn that my double has been running what potentially amounts to a vast, shadowy intelligence-gathering network out of my home without my knowledge or permission, it somehow fails to make me feel better. “I’m surprised they’re willing to take the chance of exposing themselves, even just by writing a letter.”

“I’m not,” says Kicky. “Think about it, Cloudy, I have an entire lifetime of memories with thousands of voices filling up my mind every second of every day. It’s scary when somepony like a Queen takes advantage of that to assume control or...” she shudders, “...punish you, but other times it can be comforting too. We all know one another, even if it’s on a sort of hazy and instinctual sort of level. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the extra 30 or 40 IQ points becoming a pony got me, but sometimes it gets lonely up here.” She taps her forehead for emphasis as I consider that. No wonder she’s so bored being home by herself.

“Final stop, Canterlot!” calls out the conductor from the front of the car. Looks like the issue I wanted resolved before we arrived is going to have to wait a little longer. The train begins to slow as Kicky and I both rise to gather up our overnight bags from the luggage rack.

“Cloudy?” asks Kicky from behind me. I turn to find her with a wing hooked under her bag and a somber look on her face. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry if I’m being difficult. I really don’t know what I want yet as far as the Guard is concerned, but I do know that I don’t want it to get between us. So, truce?”

“All I needed to hear. Like I said, a united front.” Maybe that olive branch wasn’t such a waste after all. We both know the importance of learning to pick your battles.

“Deal.” She grins, and that’s a load off my mind right before the one waiting out on the train platform settles in to take its place. Steam hisses from the smokestack as the engine starts to cool, and there’s no more delaying before we both step out of the train car with Kicky in the lead. Three ponies are waiting there for us, and the littlest one wastes no time before she drops off the yellow-coated mare she’s balanced on and charges us.

“Cloud!” shouts Alula, leaping on Kicky and wrapping her forelegs around her in a big hug. Kicky squeezes her back, and tightly. No secret who we were both most looking forward to seeing on this trip. After a moment she looks over at me while Mom and Dad walk up. “And other-Cloud too! Umm... or is she other-Cloud and you’re Cloud?”

Kicky grins. “Why don’t you guess?” She looks up at... well... her parents assuming they’ll have her. Right now they’re studying the both of us as we stand there, side by side. Dad speaks up first.

“Tough call. I’m going to say old Cloud on the right, new one on the left.”

Ha! Dad got it backwards. I’m just about to tell him so when Mom speaks up. “No. Other way around. I’m certain,” she says as she regards both of us with a steady, piercing stare. “You two may look very similar, but... Kicky, I think your letter said? Kicky doesn’t carry herself in quite the same fashion Cloudy does. I noticed it the moment you stepped off the train. You don’t move the same way she does.”

Kicky gulps. Thirty seconds into our visit and I already feel the suffocating pressure of being watched that Mom gives off so effortlessly, and it must be a hundred times worse for her. “Yes, Nimbus is right, Tornado. I’m... I’m the changeling.”

Rather than answering right away, Mom steps over and wraps her wings around Kicky and Alula. “Mom and Dad will be just fine, if you’d like. Welcome home, Cloud.”

Kicky’s jaw hangs slack, but after a moment she returns the hug and squeezes Mom and Alula tight while I look on. That was... wow. I mean I figured they’d come around by the end of the weekend, but that was way sooner than I’d dared to hope. Not wanting to feel left out, I trot over to Dad and give him a hug of my own while Kicky’s basking. “I should warn you both that Star and Storm have about a thousand questions each for you, and I think your Aunt Wind wants to chat as well. Don’t want you to get feel blindsided by the interrogation.”

I just grin. I’ll corrupt those two cousins of mine one day, just you wait. Wouldn’t mind weaselling a bit of advice for dealing with Kicky out of Aunt Wind, either. She’s spent long enough getting into my head that she’s bound to some insight into how I can talk her out of whole silly idea of rejoining the Guard. It’s always been a choice that she’s more accepting of than Mom or Dad were. We get caught up on life, and Alula regales me with the story of how she bravely stood guard over the interior of her closet during the invasion. My family spent most of the attack hunkered down in our compound preparing a counter attack before the Elements went off. I shudder to imagine what a disaster that would have been. Some ponies in the Guard fantasize that one day they’ll go out in a blaze of glory against impossible odds, a mentality I’ve never really understood. I’m all for ‘going down fighting,’ if it’s really come to that, but I can’t help but think that staying up fighting holds rather more appeal.

We get closer to our family compound, and I find myself standing just a little closer to my parents’ side than I might otherwise.

The ol’ homestead is just like I remember it. With the story-high walls running all around the perimeter and the thick iron gate in front of the courtyard, it’s easy to imagine it as a makeshift fort. Sure, changeling drones can fly over it, but most Kickers come equipped with wings of our own and plenty of training in air-to-air combat. The walls aren’t about keeping ponies out, not primarily anyway. They’re about forcing them into the sky and onto our home turf. As the key turns in the lock of the gate, the front door of the main manor opens and out spills Star Kicker, followed closely by her sister. She’s probably been tracking us all the way back from the train station.

“Cloud! Uh... Clouds!” she shouts. She half-runs half-flies over and gives me a hug, while Storm hugs Kicky. Once they’ve alternated and confirmed which one of us is which, the questions start to pour out. I step back a little bit and just let the tide roll over Kicky while I look on.

“What’s being a changeling like?”

“Who else have you copied?”

“Have you copied both stallions and mares? Was that weird?”

“Is it true you’re gonna’ re-enlist?”

“Are there really two Commander Tempests now? And one of them’s leading your new unit?”

“I had her as a guest lecturer once at West Hoof, she seemed like a total badflank.”

“Oh man, can you imagine if they both took off those inhibitors and fought each other? How cool would that be?”

“Did you and Cloud fight each other? Did she win? I bet she won.”

“Girls!” my mother finally interrupts. “You’ll learn a great deal more if you let her actually answer between questions.”

Kicky gives her a thankful glance and the rapid-fire pace of the questions slows down to something almost manageable as we walk into their house. When we get inside, I see Uncle Typhoon glance up from his newspaper, give each of us a flat grunt of acknowledgement, and go back to finishing the article he was reading. Aunt Wind, on the other hoof, swoops in from the den. “Cloudy, Kicky, welcome.”

“Thanks Aunt Wind,” I reply.

Kicky echoes that, but continues. “Thank you for seeing the, ah, friends I referred to you too. I know it’s meant a lot to them to have somepony helping them figure out how to adjust to all this.”

“Other former changelings?”

Aunt Wind frowns at me. “You know I can’t talk about what goes on in sessions, Cloud.”

I thought that Kicky wasn’t giving that kind of information out, but it’s pretty clear that satisfying my curiosity and getting ponies psychological help they might need are leagues apart in terms of importance, so I guess that’s fair enough. Kicky settles down and gives in to being the center of attention for the next hour or so. Mostly she’s going over things that I already know or details of Glint’s offer that don’t especially concern me, so I’m happy to sit back and sip at the coffee Aunt Wind’s so kindly brewed for me. If I didn’t know any better I’d say she was starting to like being in the spotlight.

“Well, it sounds like the Princesses have been very good to you, all things considered,” says Mom.

“Can’t argue with that. A lot better than if the shoe were on the other hoof and Chrysalis had pulled it off, for sure.”

“And that’s an exceptionally generous offer they’re extending regarding your reenlistment.”

Whelp, knew that was coming eventually. Surprised Mom held off for nearly a whole hour, to be honest. “It... is...” agrees Kicky, and our glances meet from across the room. “I haven’t made any kind of final decision about it, though.”

“Of course. You should make sure you think it through,” says Mom, sipping on her tea. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what I think is best. You should absolutely take them up on it.”

“Mom,” I say, trying to jump in before she really gets going. “Don’t pressure her. If she doesn’t want to come back, she doesn’t want to come back.”

Kicky looks over at me and wrinkles her muzzle ever so slightly. Why is she mad at me? I’m the one trying to help her. “If she decides she doesn’t want to learn from your mistakes and is content with the... lifestyle you two share in Ponyville, I’ll respect that choice just like I’ve respected yours, Cloud. But if she wants to actually make something of herself I’m just suggesting she strongly consider it.”

“Nimbus,” says Dad, a subtle but adamant warning slipped in along with the name.

She holds up her hooves. “I’ve said my piece.”

“I’m sure that when I make my decision, it’ll be the right one for me,” says Kicky, taking care to emphasize those first-person pronouns. “In the meantime, let’s talk about something else. Anything else.”

The conversation turns to more normal family stuff. Who’s in relationships with whom, how old family friends are doing, that sort of thing. Slowly but surely, the tension from the near-argument ebbs away until Aunt Wind calls us in for dinner. Delicious, as usual, and I have to resort to threatening Storm Kicker with my fork to stake my claim on the very last sliver of cherry pie. Stuffed, yawning, and happy, Alula looks about ready to collapse as the clock strikes nine. It’s about time to bid everypony goodnight and head back to our own section of the compound. Before I can follow the other four out the front door, though, Aunt Wind calls me back. “Cloudy? A word?”

Just like her to lull me into a vulnerable state with broccoli fritters and pie before moving in for the kill. In her own way, Autumn Wind is one of the best tacticians in the Kicker clan, and that’s really saying something. I obediently proceed to the kitchen where she’s washing up all the glasses and serving utensils from tonight’s meal. Typhoon, Storm, and Star have made themselves scarce. Whether that was at Aunt Wind’s insistence or their own accord, it’s hard to say. Where Aunt Wind is involved the former and the latter tend to blur together sometimes. Still, I claim a dishrag for drying the dishes coming out of the sink and pitch in. “What’s up?”

“Nothing special, I just wanted to make sure I had a chance to check in one-on-one with you. How are you holding up?”

I blink a couple times at the question. “Uh... are you sure you wanted me and not Kicky? Easy mistake to make.”

“Avoiding my questions won’t make me go away, Cloud,” says Aunt Wind with a quiet little smile. “You should know me better than that by now.”

“I’m fine. Better than fine, I’m great,” I say, wiping the speckled droplets of water from the surface of a baking sheet. “Money’s a bit tight since Kicky’s been run out of more than a few jobs, but we’re managing. It’s no reason for her to run off and join the Guard, though.”

“Mmm hmm.” She’s always been a master of that infuriatingly noncommittal tone. “It seems rather important to you that she doesn’t, is that fair to say? Why do you suppose that is?”

“You’re the crazy pony expert. You tell me. Maybe I just like having a permanent wingmare always on hoof.” Like I really want to talk about this instead of falling into bed back in my old room.

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Cloud. Do you think you are? And you’re the one who brought up the Guard, not me.”

“Well, crazy in the good ways, sure. I just hated watching Mom pressure her like that earlier. I’m trying to look out for her best interests, but Mom... I don’t know. Just rubs me the wrong way.”

“You don’t think Nimbus might say the same thing, though? That she’s the one looking out for Kicky’s best interest and you’re the one pressuring her?” She’s stopped washing to focus her full attention on me, and runs a hoof over her forehead to put a bright pink strand of mane back in its proper place.

I scoff at the suggestion. “She just wants a second shot at getting a daughter into the Guard. If it doesn’t end up being Kicky I’m sure she’ll just go back to making sure doesn’t screw up with Alula the way she did with me.”

“Cloud.” Aunt Wind puts down the crystal serving bowl she’s been working on and leans over to wrap a wing around me. “Your mother loves you, more than anything. I know she’s not always the best at showing it, but what you think is pressure is mostly her being worried about you. She’s a mom; that’s our job.” The hug feels good, I won’t deny that. The message is one I’d like to believe, too. “I’ll get the rest of this. Run on home and we can talk more tomorrow if you want to, okay?”

You know, I might take her up on that. I don’t always come away from talking to Aunt Wind with the answers I want, but she does always manage to give me something worth mulling over. I give her a kiss goodnight and leave to walk across the courtyard. On an impulse, I stop mid-stride and with a couple beats of my wings take to the rooftop of a storage shed. I lay on my back and just stare up into the night sky. It seems wise to take a moment to appreciate it, if only as a precaution against one of the local demigoddesses getting ideas about the whole ‘eternal darkness’ thing again. Besides it’s unusually spectacular tonight, and the stars gleam a little brighter than they usually do. I wonder if there’s some special event going on at the palace? Or maybe something’s just put Princess Luna in an especially good mood, who can really say for sure? Either way, I’m just enjoying the show and letting my thoughts wander back to what Mom and Aunt Wind said. I yawn, and realize I better get inside before I end up sleeping under the stars tonight. As I roll off the roof, I decide that I’m making a conscious choice not to let anything Mom does tonight or tomorrow get to me.

Then I walk into our living room, and that self-promise dies an ignoble and untimely death.

Mom and Kicky are there, but Kicky’s all dressed up. In a crimson suit of armor with our family seal proudly emblazoned on the chest. Mom is lovingly helping with the buckles and straps, testing to make sure it’s not too loose anywhere. In fact, it looks like it’s perfectly fitted to her, which can only mean...

“Is that the armor you gave me when I finished at West Hoof?” I ask.

“Like it?” asks Kicky, grinning at me with a smirk I want more than anything to wipe off her face. “We look damn good in uniform, right? The mares never could get enough.”

“You know that’s mine, right?” I ask. But of course she does.

“Well,” says Mom as she gives a yank on one of the faux-leather straps, “it isn’t like you were using it. It’s been gathering dust in the attic for years, and when I heard that Kicky might be re-enlisting, I thought I’d bring it out and check that it still fits. Just in case we need to make any adjustments.” She looks... she bucking beams at Kicky in her full getup. With something in her eyes that’s for damn sure not there when she looks at me.

Pride.

“It really does suit you, Cloud,” she says.

“Thanks, Mom,” says Kicky. She can’t... she’s not really taken in this easily, is she? So desperate for approval that she’d do something so obviously wrong for her, just to have Mom look at her that way?

Would I be?

There’s a thousand things I want to say, none of which are likely to be a good idea. Instead I just turn from the perfect little mother-daughter scene in front of me and walk away. Neither of them bother to stop me. Too busy playing dress-up, I guess.

Back on the roof of that storage shed, I decide that, why yes, I will sleep out here tonight. The cold’s never really bothered me anyway. Not like there’s anypony inside who’ll miss me.

Unfortunately, the stars aren’t quite as pretty when I’m looking at them through tears.

------------------

It’s all too easy to fade into the background the next day.

Storm, Star, Mom, even Alula. They’re all just so fascinated with Kicky and the lifetime of stories she has about being a changeling. A changeling who would have gladly ripped out any of their throats a few months ago, mind, but that doesn’t seem to bother any of them. I catch Aunt Wind glancing in my direction and frowning just a bit a few times over the course of the day, but if I talked to her I don’t even know what I’d say.

I am so glad that we only decided to stay for a single night and that we’ll be going home this evening. I originally set it up that way so Kicky would have an escape route handy if things went south. Now, though, she looks like she’d happily stay here forever. Who knows? Maybe she will.

When we do board the train for the ride home, Kicky gets long, lingering hugs from everypony. So do I, but to me it seems like little more than an afterthought. We settle in for the ride home, and Kicky gives a contented sigh as she stows her overnight bag. “I think that went really well, don’t you?”

I’m pretty sure the only reason I don’t jump her then and there is that getting into a fight before we even pull out of Canterlot would get me thrown off the train in front of everypony. One more way I could feather up and make Kicky look good by comparison. “So, when we were coming out here and I suggested a ‘united front,’ what exactly did you think I meant? Because I think we must have very different ideas about what that means.”

She actually looks puzzled. “Is this about the armor last night? Mom had it laid out when we walked into the house, what was I supposed to do?”

“How about not put on a uniform that you never earned?” I snap at her. “They gave that to me, not you. Just because you remember West Hoof doesn’t mean you were actually there.”

“You didn’t want it,” she hisses right back. “If I hadn’t put it on last night, would you even have remembered it was there? You don’t want to go back and join the Guard? Fine! Just quit projecting your freakout onto me. You think it isn’t a hard enough decision for me already?”

“Oh, I think having Mom fawning over you all weekend made it a whole lot easier.”

“Cloudy...” her voice drops into a whisper, but an angry one. “I met my Mom, my Dad, my little sister, my cousins, all of them for the very first time over the last two days. Being loved like that, genuinely, even knowing what I used to be... I’m not going to say it wasn’t nice, because it was. Maybe I got a little carried away.”

“An all-you-can-eat affection buffet, huh?” I ask, even as I know it’s a cheap shot.

She just stares at me for a solid minute, an inscrutable sort of hurt crossing her face. “You know what? I think I liked it better when you weren’t speaking to me.”

“Fine by me.”

So we go back to glaring across at one another, the only difference between this and the ride into Canterlot the direction that the train is moving.

Not the most productive trip.