No Heroes: Life of Pie

by PaulAsaran

Day 9

Fine woke quickly. It was like the old days, really; one minute he’s fast asleep, and the next he’s wide awake. Without opening his eyes, he performed the first step: identifying what woke him. It was the shower. Pinkie, then.

Second step: location. Of course he remained in her room, curled up on the floor beside her bed. Not for the first time, he silently thanked her for not suggesting he actually sleep in the bed. The very idea set his cheeks aflame.

The third step was pointless, but for old times’ sake: threats. His ears took in the birds chirping outside and the barely discernible chatter on the street outside. The inn was silent otherwise. About the only thing he might have to worry about was Pinkie using him as a stepping stool to get back to bed. Which he probably would have allowed, considering how much pain she owed him back over the course of their knowing one another.

Ah, the old routine of an Archon field agent. He so rarely did it anymore, but for some reason today it felt appropriate. There was a danger in this day, one aimed entirely Pinkie’s way. His only choice was to either stop her… or support her. Doing the former would be a lack of faith on his part, so it would have to be the latter. This by no means made him happy about it.

He opened his eyes to find his muzzle tucked just under the bed, the sheets dangling above his eyes. There was a suitcase right in front of him, and his idling mind latched onto it. He’d seen it before, but never thought much about it. He wondered what was in it. Party supplies? No, she’d bought all the supplies for yesterday in town. Curious. He chuckled at the thought that it might be her party cannon. It wouldn’t fit normally, but he knew better than to assume the laws of physics applied to Pinkie Pie.

He sat up, feeling the muscles along his back pop in a pleasant rhythm. He wondered if he wasn’t getting too old for sleeping on the floor. Princess Luna must have been guarding his sleep that night, for he couldn’t recall having any dreams. It didn’t really work that way, of course, but it was a pleasant thought. He wondered if the same held true for Pinkie.

His ear flicked as the shower died. He glanced to the bathroom in time to see Pinkie step up to the sink, soaked and with a little smile that was at least an improvement from what he’d seen last night. It had looked… well, he was hardly one to call one of Pinkie’s smiles ‘fake’. Last night had proven just how good she was at putting on masks. But now, with the bags under her eyes, her dripping mane straight and resting limp on her shoulders, and the way she held her head slightly lower as if it weighed a ton, he couldn’t help but think this was a more ‘real’ Pinkie Pie.

She hadn’t noticed him yet, or so he thought. He watched as she used a hoof to brush her mane to one side, giving him a perfect profile view of her body. As the water formed rivulets down her flanks and legs, he gained a sudden appreciation for her shape. She was small for an earth pony. Her diet of soups over the last few months had slimmed her down as well, making her seem downright tiny. He thought about how she used to look, back before… Rex. Now that he did, he realized she’d never been big in any way, mane aside. For all the sweets she was known to consume, he supposed her high energy burned the calories off quickly.

Perhaps everypony had it wrong. Maybe Pinkie didn’t get her energy from sweets, but instead ate sweets to fuel her energy. That sounded almost like the same thing in his head, but he told himself there was a difference and that was that. Perfect Pinkie Pie logic.

He was still watching as Pinkie began to towel off. Even with that common act, she moved with a curiously fluid grace, like there was a song in her head and she was working the towel to its beat. He appreciated the muscles beneath her coat, muscles he never would have guessed were there a year ago. Then he remembered the fight beneath Canterlot, and the time she’d gone hoof-to-claw against Rex. Suddenly, he realized she was far more fit a pony than he’d ever given her credit for.

And that was when it dawned upon him. Every expectation, every preconceived notion that everypony seemed to have regarding Pinkie was wrong. Terribly so. Even his own. All this time, he’d been treating her like a fragile flower in need of care to keep from shattering in a hard wind. What had he been doing all this time but struggling with a desire to know more and protect her at the same time? Pinkie wasn’t weak. Perhaps, in her own way, she’d been trying to prove that to him all this time. He realized, guiltily, that he hadn’t been helping in that regard.

This was the same pony who challenged him, a trained assassin, in a one-on-one duel in the caves beneath Canterlot. The same pony who later was able to keep up with him again when he was overpowered through possession – and almost won. The same pony who worked to protect her friend from heartache even as she suffered the same condition. Here she was, in the town of her birth, struggling to face her own fears despite all her instincts screaming at her to run away and never come back. All of this, to say nothing of the adventures she went on before ever meeting him. It was… She was…

“Fine?”

He snapped out of his thoughts only to realize he’d been staring at her flank this entire time. At least when he met her gaze he saw he wasn’t the only one blushing. He slapped on an anxious smile. “Y-yeah?”

Biting her lip at first, Pinkie finished rubbing the towel over her shoulders and tossed it aside. “Are you okay?”

Play it cool, Fine. You absolutely were not ogling her just now. “I should be asking you that. Did I help at all?” Why was he rubbing his leg? Why couldn’t he meet her gaze? Darn it, Verity! What are you, a schoolcolt?

Her little smile came back. It made moths dance in his stomach. “I did sleep a little better.”

“You did?” The moths were forgotten as he took this news in, a smile worming its way across his face. “So… no nightmares?”

Her little flinch killed his enthusiasm. “N-no, I had nightmares. But they weren’t so bad this time. I only woke up twice last night, and…” She hesitated, then turned to the mirror. She grabbed a brush and began getting the knots out of her mane. Her next words came in a nervous hush he almost didn’t catch. “Knowing you were there calmed me down every time.”

Oop, the moths were back.

“W-well, then. Glad I helped.” Fine could see her bright blue eyes fighting not to shift his way. He couldn’t keep watching her, even though he really wanted to. He tried turning his head away, but his eyes remained set on her. Damn it, Verity, she’s a mare, not a pin-up poster. Turn your ass away!

That got him moving. He went to the window and settled back down. He’d intended to take in the scenery, but instead the memory of her body was seared into his retinas. Why had he never noticed how… how pretty she was? Yes, pretty. Not the soft pretty of Fluttershy or the cultured beauty of Rarity or Fleur. Nor was it the natural, strangely exotic beauty of Octavia. He’d never been one to eye mares before his crush on Fluttershy, but that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate a pretty one when she passed him by. Pinkie had her own variety of attractiveness. Untraditional, perhaps, but still there.

Damn it, I can’t stop. Is it wrong to think about her like this? This was all so new to him. Arousal in particular was odd. Not even Fluttershy had managed to achieve that. His interest in her had been strong, but tame. Pinkie’s moistened coat and tiny smile was introducing him to an entirely different set of feelings, and he wasn’t sure how to take that. It almost felt like he was objectifying her. The very idea made him feel dirty.

But by Luna, it was so devilishly tempting.

This was… bad. Wasn’t it? If she knew what was going through his thoughts now, would she be offended? That was what he’d been led to believe all his life. Mares didn’t want to be ogled. They didn’t want to be thought of in sexual terms. And he didn’t want to be thought of as a pervert.

Don’t be stupid, Fine. Being sexually attracted to a mare for once in your life doesn’t make you a pervert. You’re overthinking this!

“Anything interesting going on out there?”

He jolted; she was sitting right next to him! When did she get there? It was at a safe distance, but with the ideas that had run through Fine’s head not five minutes ago he wasn’t sure there was such a thing as a ‘safe distance’ anymore. He couldn’t say what he was thinking. Couldn’t let her know. Damn, didn’t she already know?

You were ogling her earlier.

That doesn’t mean she knows!

Seriously?

I was just nervous. Nothing more!

Sure, nervous. That’s what she thinks.

This looks bad, doesn’t it?

She doesn’t look upset.

She’s the mistress of masks. Of course she doesn’t look upset!

Calm down and say something.

Say something? I have no idea what to say.

Oh, for the love of— This is Pinkie we’re talking about. You talk to her every day now, in perfectly casual conversations, without so much as a stutter. Why is this any different?

It’s different because she’s pretty!

And that makes sense… how?

It just does!

Shut up and say something.

And that makes sense… how?

Verity Fine Crime, this mare has made it clear she likes you. The fact that you like her back is not a problem. Now get over your Luna-be-damned anxieties, stud up, and say something, for the love of Equestria!

“Who’s t-turn is it?”

Luna had to be giving him strength. It was the only explanation for how he managed not to facehoof at his own stupidity. Why hadn’t she blessed him with brains instead?

Pinkie spoke quietly, in a calm voice that he wasn’t used to hearing from her. “Hmm… I have no idea. Lost track. Can we just say it’s mine?”

“S-sure.” He nodded, still adamantly not looking at her. The window pane was so much more interesting! “So, uh, anything you want to get off your chest?”

“Just this.”

Then she kissed him on the cheek, and Fine realized the strange experience of freezing up and boiling at the same time. He would have looked at her then, if only in shock, but his body was refusing to heed his commands. Perhaps the moths had taken him over somehow. He could feel them flapping around every inch of his body, little shivers actively working against whatever ice had locked his limbs.

Pinkie giggled. “That’s for staying with me last night, Verity.” Sweet Stars of Luna, he wished she’d use that peaceful, sweet voice from now until forever!

Her words echoed in his ears, only this time they struck a different chord. That fact dispersed the moths and thawed his body. Even the fire in his head died down as he looked to her face. Still with the bags and the weary slump and the little, pleasant smile. Her mane was back in curls, but they weren’t as wild and exaggerated as usual. They were more… tame, perhaps? “Something’s different about you this morning.”

She nodded, her eyes not leaving his. “I told you last night. No more masks. This is me. Without the fake smile and the wild energy and the silly randomness. You get me from now on.” She offered her hoof, smile growing just slightly. “Hi. I’m Pinkamena Diane Pie. It’s good to meet you.”

Fine studied her proffered hoof, then her face. The real Pinkie, was it? A new warmth, not so invasive and so very welcome, filled him. He felt… strangely light. It was such a new feeling. Perhaps through her he could experience more of it. So, acting on a whim, he took her hoof in his. Instead of shaking it, he raised it up to his face. “Verity Fine. Charmed.” He kissed her fetlock, smiling all the while.

Pinkie pulled her hoof back in a slow but exaggerated display of daintiness. “Well, aren’t you the forward one?”

They shared a chuckle, then drifted into silence. Fine couldn’t stop admiring her new… newness, for lack of a better descriptor. It was so hard to understand, but somehow this new Pinkie Pie was so very pretty. Yet as much as he thought so, his attention was drawn once more to her worn posture and tired eyes. A pretty pony, true… but how much prettier could she be without all that weight on her back?

“Your turn.”

He blinked, once again pulled from his thoughts by her new voice that was so lovely to the ears. He couldn’t resist smiling at it. “I don’t know what to talk about.”

She hummed and closed her eyes. The expression on her face, collected and thoughtful, suggested a patient insight. For a moment, that face became Fine’s whole world. He didn’t realize he’d started leaning forward until she spoke.

“Little Miss.”

Straightening up and adamantly ignoring the renewed heat in his face, he asked, “Little Miss?”

She opened her eyes and nodded. “I’ve heard you call Sunflower that. But I also once heard you call Keen Arrow ‘Little Miss’. Why? Where did it come from?”

Fine cocked his head uncertainly. “It’s… a term of endearment. I’ve given it to several fillies over the years.” Then he reconsidered. “No, just three. Sunflower was the first.”

“And Keen last.” Pinkie nodded as if confirming something to herself. Then her expression became inquisitive. “Who was the second?”

“Fleur de Lis.”

Pinkie’s brow furrowed. “That Archon friend of yours? Oh!” She smiled and nodded. “You did mention you met her when she was a filly. That makes sense.”

“Exactly.” When she said nothing else, he pressed, “And what brought this up?”

Her ears folding back, Pinkie made little circles on the floorboards with the tip of her hoof. Her voice grew a quieter with each word. “W-well, I was just wondering if… if I could… be your little miss now?”

“You?” Fine tapped his chin as he let this new thought slide around his cranium. “I’m not opposed to it, but I usually use it with little fillies.” Calling her that struck him as all kinds of peculiar.

Her timid smile was like a smoke bomb going off in his brain. “W-well, I am a lot younger than you. Old fart.”

Fine knew he should answer. Answering was important. And polite. And kept ponies from realizing that you were suffering from a mental meltdown because damn, since when could Pinkie smile like that?

“Fine? You’re not going senile on me, are you?”

He shook his head frantically, managing to disperse the clouds in his mind. He then raised his hoof and, with a flash of red magic, created an aural walking cane to wave at her in mock threat. Another quick spell altered his voice to sound gravelly and more high pitched. “No, ah ain’t goin’ senile, you whippersnapper. And get off my lawn! No, I ain’t givin’ the ball back. Crazy kids these days. Back when I was your age I… I…”

Pinkie was giggling like a madmare, and Fine couldn’t keep up the charade any longer. Soon they were leaning against one another and laughing. Fine’s voice remained altered the entire time, which made it hard for either of them to quit. Every time it seemed like they might recover, Fine would chuckle in the ‘old geezer’ voice and Pinkie would break down again, with him soon following. Eventually, Fine wizened up and undid the enchantment, but it still took them several minutes to calm down.

The two were too worn out to do much afterwards. Fine leaned heavily against the window sill while Pinkie lay on her side on the floor. Both were panting up a storm and had stopped looking at one another in a silent but mutual agreement to avoid making one another succumb to more giggle fits.

When he was finally able to breathe normally, Fine pulled away from the window and offered Pinkie his hoof. “How about we go get some breakfast, Little Miss?”

What she offered him in response wasn’t a grin; she didn’t show any teeth. Even so, it had to have been the biggest, most lovely, most honest smile she’d ever gifted him. She took his hoof and allowed herself to be pulled to standing, her brilliant blue eyes locked with his.

“I would love to.”

---

They stood at the edge of the rock farm, just within the shadows of the woods. Pinkie had her legs splayed and her head raised in what she imagined as a battle-ready pose. She gazed at the old farmhouse, with its collapsed wall and the holes in its roof. Every once in a while she’d dare to glance at the barn, but couldn’t bring herself to do so for more than a second before retreating her stare to something else. Every time she did, she felt like a coward.

A cool breeze sent sand rolling across the plain and dancing about Holder’s Boulder. The windmill twitched in the wind, it’s rusty creak audible even from this distance. Otherwise, the rock-strewn farmland was as quiet and still as death.

How fitting.

She’d tried, over and over again, to make her legs move. The only thing stopping her was the throbbing of her heart and the sweat beading on her brow. The tiny shivers did her little good. Fine said nothing, sitting at her side with a patience she’d have considered impossible for anypony. She had to have been standing there for at least fifteen minutes now.

Come on, Pinkie. Move!

Just pick up your hooves and walk.

She’s not there. She’d not going to punish you. It’s all in your head.

Move your hooves.

Move your hooves.

Move your damn hooves!

She’s not there. She’s not there. She’s not there. She’s not there. She’s not there. She’s not there.

She is. She’s there, I just know it…

It was clear to her that no amount of silent encouragement would get her across this insurmountable barrier. But Pinkie knew this had to be done. She refused to turn back, not until she’d at least revealed one more story to Fine.

Fine. “Fine?”

Out the corner of her eye, she saw him cast her a curious, worried look. He replied with only an affirming grunt.

“Push me.”

Getting the idea, he promptly walked behind her. She waited for the shove that would at last force her to start moving. And waited. And waited. “Fine?”

“Right. Sorry.”

Another long, silent wait. Pinkie kept her eyes locked on the farmhouse, wondering what was taking so long. Then Fine spoke. “If you buck me for touching your flank, I will be very cross with you.”

She barely had time to register his meaning and feel her face heat up before she felt his hooves shove against her hindquarters with enough force to make her start walking. Oh, Celestia, I didn’t even think about that! And now Fine touched my flanks. No, no, don’t think about it, Pinkie. You asked him to. Ponies touch flanks all the time! It’s only private in the right setting, and this totally isn’t the right setting. Fine was just giving me a push, like I asked. It wasn’t like that. But if it wasn’t like that then why did he say that oh wow that means he was thinking it does that count as heavy petting or flirting or something I don’t know and why isn’t Rarity here to explain this to me go away Rarity no no wait come back I didn’t mean it don’t you take that exit I need help because Fine touched my flanks and it wasn’t heavy but it might be and why do I keep confusing myself at times like this Pinkie you’re rambling over hooves on flanks and Fine’s hooves were on my flanks and he was thinking naughty thoughts and what do I do this isn’t a naughty thoughts situation but I don’t want him to think I didn’t like it even though I wasn’t ready which is stupid I should have been ready I asked him to touch me but not in that way should I have…?

“Pinkie!”

She shot in the air, hooves waving wildly. “Flanksies!”

She landed on her stomach in a cloud of dirt, panting wildly. When she looked up it was to find her muzzle not a foot away from the farmhouse.

A new voice: You’ve been a bad girl, Pinkamena.

Yelping, she went from on her barrel to retreating in a flash. She might have fled the farm entirely if Fine hadn’t caught her from behind. He said nothing, merely held her while she hyperventilated. He was so warm and her entire body felt chilled to the bone. She nestled into him as best she could and made herself ignore the voice in her head. She resisted the impulse to hide her face, instead staring at the house in a desperate hope that familiarity would dull the knife currently mincing her heart.

At last, her breaths normalized and she was able to pull away. “Th-thanks, Fine,” she muttered, shaking as if to rid her coat of water.

He nodded, but concern remained in his stare. “You going to be alright?”

With one last glance at the house, she turned away. “I-I don’t know yet. Come on, the next thing I want to show you isn’t here.” She headed for the back of the house, steadfastly refusing to look at it.

So far so good, Pinkie. Well, maybe not ‘good’, but you didn’t run away in terror. Because of Fine. It’s a start. And now…

Every fiber of her being told her to stop walking before the barn came into view, but she muscled past it and kept going. Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look…

She looked.

At least, she tried to look. All she saw was black. It startled her so much that she lost her focus and stopped walking. “Wa?”

“You need to get past the barn, right?”

She turned to see Fine’s horn glowing brightly. His smile was strained. “I remember what happened last time. Can we please go? Making so much shadow over such a large area isn’t easy.”

Part of her wanted to scold him for taking away a challenge that she needed to overcome eventually. Another part wanted to kiss him in thanks for the same reason. She decided to go with the second option… but without the kiss. Better to not let him lose his concentration. So instead she merely nodded with the best smile she could muster and trotted onwards to the gorge behind the farmhouse and barn. The aura around Fine’s horn died when they reached Holder’s Boulder, so she made it a point not to look back.

The massive stone rose high above their heads, as tall as eight ponies together. She smiled bitterly and muttered, “Don’t touch Holder’s Boulder.”

“Why?”

Casting a glance at Fine’s curious expression, she explained, “My big sis, Limestone, said that all the time. I don’t know why she was so protective of it.” He looked back at the rock inquisitively, but she didn’t dare. She had something else to think about. She paused at the top of the long, winding path that formed a ramp along the inside of the canyon. From there she could see, far at the bottom, the familiar mine entrance.

You can’t run from what you’ve done!

She shivered as the scream echoed through her mind over and over again. “I can’t run…”

“Hmm?”

Though her hooves felt like lead weights, Pinkie began the slow walk down the slope. She kept her eyes on the ground, taking her steps carefully. She could remember every one from that horrible evening. “She knew. Limestone caught me in the act.”

Fine was silent, though his hoofsteps echoed softly behind her. She was glad to hear them. They reminded her that the frantic hoofbeats charging her were only in her head. She forced her breathing into a slow rhythm and pushed the words out. “Surprise. Maud. Momma and Papa. All gone. All gone. Only Limestone and Granny left. I was still seeing red, still wanting more. But Limestone, she wasn’t like the rest of us. She was smart. Strong. Resourceful. Even having a Vision, I knew better than to fight her.

“So I ran.” They were nearing the bottom already. Pinkie swallowed to moisten her dry throat.

Come back here, you little monster!

“I was such a little monster…” The moment her hooves touched the bottom of the gorge, Pinkie made for the mine. She ignored the weight of her legs, though the shriek in her mind made her flinch. She came to a stop once more at the mouth of the cave. Even now, when she was so much bigger, it loomed over her like the gaping maw of a quarray eel. The mine’s interior sparkled brilliantly despite the shadows. She raised a shivering hoof, but couldn’t bring herself to move forward.

Fine was there. He caught her hoof in his and gave it a firm squeeze. The act alone was enough to melt the ice that had locked up her veins. She couldn’t smile, but she hoped the look she sent his way conveyed her appreciation properly.

With another reassuring breath, she led him inside. “I fled into the mines. Limestone came after me. She… She wanted to kill me. She’d found our parents, saw what I’d done to them. If I hadn’t been in the middle of a Vision, I probably would have let her. But instead I came in here.” Fine let out a small gasp, prompting her to glance his way. His face had gone pale. “What?”

He shook his head. “These mines. They remind me a lot of the ones beneath Canterlot.” He met her gaze and shrank back. “Pinkie… I d-don’t want to ask this, but when we fought down there…?”

“Yeah.” She turned away and bowed her head. “It brought me back to this place. To this… fight.”

“Pinkie, I’m so—”

“Don’t.” She pressed a hoof to his lips but still couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Just don’t, okay? That wasn’t your fault, and I don’t want to get distracted. I need to tell this story.”

By his eyes she knew he wasn’t happy with the request. Even so, he caught her hoof again and said nothing. Giving him what may have been the worst smile in her nearly empty barrel, she moved on through the tunnels. Her ears perked, then folded back as Limestone’s venom haunted her once more.

How could you do this, Pinkie? To your own family. Why? I want to know why!

Grinding her teeth, Pinkie checked her surroundings before guiding Fine through a leftward fork in the tunnels.

Mom and Dad. They loved you so much. They loved you, and you butchered them!

Every step was full of certainty. She couldn’t forget the route she took, the manic thoughts in her insane little head, the evil plans. And all along, Limestone’s voice came to her, sometimes strained, sometimes vicious.

You killed Maud and Surprise too, didn’t you? Maud thought the world of you. Why? For Celestia’s sake, Pinkie, what happened to you?

A sob filled the air, and Pinkie had no idea if it was hers or her eldest sibling’s. Her eyes burned, but she ignored them and kept walking. She held on tight to Fine’s hoof. Stalactites and stalagmites surrounded them like a thousand jagged teeth waiting to bite down.

We’ll see how you like it. I’ll take that psychotic pink head of yours and see if your fucking brains are as pink as your pelt!

She stopped. The path ahead of them was a wall of collapsed stone. All save for a spot to the right, which had been dug out some time in the distant past. She stared at that hole, just large enough to fit a pony. “This part of the mines was restricted. Dangerous. Papa said it was at risk of caving in. I remembered that.” She glanced at Fine, just enough to catch him staring grimly at the hole. “That was the very first time I used Pinkie Sense.”

His eyes shot to hers, a renewed horror within them.

Pinkie turned her attention to the hole, which she approached slowly. She let Fine’s hoof go, leaving him behind. “It was so easy. Just apply the right amount of force at the right wall.” The tune she’d sang that day came back to her, the words slipping through her lips.

“Down and down, in the dark she goes,
“Tumbling, tumbling, oh scary Limestone.
“Down and down, let loose her woes,
“Tumbling, tumbling, my silly Limestone.
“Cricks and cracks while you see red.
“Stacks and stacks on top of your head.
“Dance and trance, you’ll soon be dead,
“My lovely, bloody Limestone.”

She sat by the hole in the wall, head low and vision blurry. Even so, she could see her big sister even now, struggling to free herself. “She almost got away, but the rocks caught her back legs. She was pinned on her stomach.”

You little freak! I’m gonna rip you to pieces when I get out of here!

“So I started throwing rocks.”

Hey, stop it!

“And throwing.”

Ah! Pinkie!

“And throwing.”

Q-quit. Stop. Pinkie, don’t do—!

Her head jerked as she remembered that perfect impact against Limestone’s head, as if the rock had hit her instead. She sobbed. “And th-throwing…”

Pinkie. P-Pinkie… I take it back, okay? I take it back!

“And when I got t-tired of throwing, I climbed on her back.”

W-what are you doing? Get off me.

“I found a big rock. Took it in both hooves.”

No! Pinkie, please!

“And just started smashing.”

Help! Somepony help me!

“And… and I kept…”

Dad! Mo—ah! Don’t do— Y-you…

She couldn’t get more than mumbling nonsense out of her mouth. She sank to the floor and wept as the wet sounds began to echo in her ears.

N-no… Please… Pink… kie…

“That’s enough.” Fine was there, holding her in a breath stealing hug. His voice shook as he whispered into her ear. “That’s enough, Pinkie. I get it. It’s enough.”

She shook her head against his withers, unable to stop the shaking of her every muscle. “So much blood. There was so much. A-and I loved it. I was so happy for the blood! It got everywhere. M-my face, my hooves, my mane, in my mouth. And the taste. Oh, Celestia, the taste!”

“It’s okay, Pinkie.” He pulled back to hold her cheeks and look into her eyes, his visage a blurry mess through her tears. “It’s okay. Let’s get out of here. You don’t need to tell me anymore.”

“B-but… but my sister…”

He shushed her, pressed his forehead to hers. “I know it’s hard. I do. But think about why we’re here, Pinkie. Why are we here?”

Pinkie licked her chapped lips and glanced at the hole in the wall. She could see the bloody, pulpy mess that had once been Limestone, could hear the raspy breathing. “T-to… to know one another b-better?”

“To heal.” He whispered the word with enough force to regain her attention. “To face it all and move on. I had to do it once. I know you can too.”

Gripping his fetlocks, she shook her head with a sniff. She felt so heavy, like she couldn’t possibly take another step. “How do I heal from this?”

He opened his mouth. No words came out. Pain flashed through his eyes, and she knew then that he had no answer. How could he? Her situation wasn’t at all like his. He’d never killed his own flesh and blood. She stepped away from him, turned to the hole in the wall, and approached. She settled beside it again and rested her chin on the edge of the opening. “S-sometimes I thought about dying. I would wish that Limestone had succeeded. At least then she’d still be alive.

“When I was living with the Cakes, I was so scared I’d wake up one day and find I’d killed them. It took years to gather up the courage to throw parties again, but you can’t just ignore your calling, y’know?” She reached into her mane and, with little effort, pulled out a kitchen knife. She examined the sharp implement, seeing her dull, weary reflection in its shiny surface.

Fine spoke up hesitantly. “Do you always keep knives in your mane?”

She turned onto her back, imagining Limestone’s head next to her own. “I’d come home from a party. I’d retreat to my room. I’d think about Maud, or Surprise, or Limestone. I’d stare at the ceiling, a knife in my hoof.” She raised the knife above her head so that it was pointed at her eye, working to line it up just so that she could see down the straight edge of the blade. “I’d lay there and ask myself, is it worth the risk? Wouldn’t the world be safer if I just… let go? Then came the age-old mantra. I’m not a bad pony.

“I’m not a bad pony.

“I’m not a bad pony.”

“Pinkie…” Fear laced Fine’s voice. In her peripheral vision, she saw the slight glow in his horn.

She moved the knife away, rested it flat against her chest. “I never did it. I don’t know why. Fear, maybe.”

Fine answered with confidence. “It’s because you’re not a bad pony.”

She barked a feeble, bitter laugh. “Sure, I only murdered my entire family. I’m not bad at all.”

“You’re not a bad pony, Pinkie.” He kept his distance, just close enough that she could see him in her peripheral vision. Was he trying to give her space? Or maybe carefully avoiding the scary psychopony. “You know as well as I do what is truly responsible. I shouldn’t have to lecture you on it.”

She hummed, not bothering to hide her disbelief. Would a good pony have allowed the Visions to overwhelm her? She felt sick, like she’d lose her breakfast at any moment. Rubbing her squirming belly with her free hoof, she muttered, “I can still hear her breathing. Ragged. Whistling, like through a broken straw. Sometimes a little gurgle from the blood.” Closing her eyes, she dropped the knife at her side and curled into a ball right where she knew her sister had breathed her last. “When I came out of it, she was still alive. I… I just ran. I left Limestone here to die alone and shattered and… and… I didn’t even have the courage to stay with her in her final moments. I just wanted to wake up from the nightmare.”

Fine was at her side, squeezing into the small hole. He wrapped a leg around her shoulder and kept her close. He said nothing. Perhaps he knew nothing could help her. Not here. Not now. Pinkie wasn’t sure she even wanted him here. This was Limestone’s place.

But she didn’t push him away. She pressed herself all the more tightly against his warm body and sobbed into her hooves. It was all she could do.

They remained down there for a long time, Pinkie reflecting on what she’d done and how she could have prevented it. It certainly didn’t feel good to tell the story, but she did feel… lighter, if that was the appropriate word choice. And at least now there was somepony who knew, who understood. She didn’t think she’d ever get over what she’d done, but having somepony to lean on made everything a little less terrible.

When Fine finally suggested they go, she didn’t argue. If anything, she was glad. She couldn’t help but think Limestone had been with them the whole time, glaring from the shadows and cursing her to Tartarus. Pinkie didn’t blame her, and could only take the haunting sensation for so long. She let Fine guide her out by the hoof, her steps dragging and her eyes downcast.

So when they left the cave, she didn’t realize Tine Oscillation was waiting for them at its opening until the mare shouted. “What the fuck are you doing bringing her here?”

All thoughts of Limestone disappeared. Pinkie looked up just in time to see a snarling, red-faced Scilly punch Fine off his hooves. “Scilly! What are you—?”

Scilly snorted steam and loomed over Fine, who met her glare with a neutral, expressionless stare. “Do you have any idea what happened here? Are you trying to scar her for life? You’re a monster, and if you think I’m going to let you screw with Pinkie’s head and—”

“Stop!” Pinkie shoved her foalhood friend away from her coltfriend. “Just stop, Scilly! Fine didn’t make me come here.”

Scilly’s face twisted into a grimace. “Pinkie, I know you think he’s a good guy and all, but the fact he brought you here at all is proof that he’s not. Now come with me, we’ll get you someplace safe and—” She tried to pull Pinkie away by the shoulders, but the pony didn’t budge. “Pinkie!”

“I brought Fine here, not the other way around.” Pinkie pulled the hooves from her shoulders and held them tightly. “He’s not forcing me into this. I want his help. I needed to see this.”

“You what?” The fire left Scilly’s eyes, her ears folding back. “B-but Pinkie, this is where… Why? Why would you do this?”

“Because I need closure, Tine.” The use of her formal name made Scilly shrink back. Pinkie kept her voice quiet and patient. “Fine… has an idea of what I’ve been through. I need what he has. I need to get past this.” Even if I don’t think that’s possible.

Scilly’s eyes scanned the cave behind Pinkie, uncertainty and fear making her seem small. “Are you sure this is the right way to do that? P-Pinkie, couldn’t you… I don’t know. Try something else?”

“There is nothing else.” Pinkie embraced her friend tightly. “Thank you for worrying. Thank you for coming to my defense. But I’ve held back from doing this for too long already.”

Her friend returned the hold, her hooves quivering. “I should have been there the first time. I sh-should have searched harder. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Pinkie nuzzled into the mare’s black fur. “It’s not your fault I ran so far away.”

It was some time before they separated, at which point they noticed Fine standing a safe distance away. A bruise was rapidly developing on his cheek, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, Fine!” Scilly bowed to him, all but burying her head in the dirt. “I am so sorry! I just saw Pinkie coming out of this terrible place and reacted.”

Fine smiled and shrugged. “I’ve had worse. Not going to blame you for getting protective.”

“W-well, that’s a relief, I suppose.” Scilly relaxed a bit at this, though she continued to blush profusely.

“But if I might ask?” Fine raised a hoof as if to catch an audience’s attention. “How did you know we were here?”

Sitting up properly, she replied, “PS told me what happened at the party. I went to the inn this morning to check on Pinkie, and the owner said you were headed to the rock farms. I put two-and-two together. I, uh, may have added it up to more than it was.” She rubbed her mane back and averted her eyes. “Make it up to you over lunch?”

Fine’s glance at Pinkie was clearly a query. She smiled and said, “I think that’ll be okay. I don’t want to stick around this place any longer, anyway.” She cast one last glance at the cave and shivered. She really hoped Fine would stay by her bed again tonight.

As the three made for the path leading out of the gorge, Pinkie leaned towards Fine. “Why didn’t you dodge Scilly’s punch? I know you could have.”

He sighed and rubbed his bruised cheek. “Why beat myself up when somepony else is willing to do it for me?”

Pinkie didn’t like that answer at all.

Comments

[Crimson Dawn]

I am liking Pinkie and Fine so much in this as a couple. Cant wait to see even more from them.

[Thought Prism]

God, that first half was so totally cute. My hnnng-o-meter was off the charts. You're really nailing that 'awkward romance' angle. Plus, you know, the drama.

[mustangdrew4]

I'm really glad pinkie asked that last question of her's. I had a feeling I knew why fine didn't dodge. I'm just glad pinkie know why now as well.

[Non Uberis]

I kind of wish that the rest of the deaths of the family, and Pinkie's flashbacks to them, had been done more like Limestone's. She stands out noticeably as having more presence compared to any of the others (with the exception of Marble) since she actually has dialogue and her presence leaves a noticeable impact, seemingly the most lasting effect out of all of them, the strongest feeling of guilt lingering on Pinkie's mind--that constant voice asserting "You're a bad girl, Pinkamena." Granted, it may not help that most of the others were too sudden for anything of the sort and under circumstances that prevented any of them from speaking--Surprise was drowned, Maud was strangled, Dad Pie had his throat slit, only Mom Pie might've had the chance to say anything but Pinkie was probably in too much of a blood frenzy to register any of it. I'm also aware of the necessity that would make it difficult to change any of these, since causing too much of a commotion would give Pinkie away too quickly, Limestone is supposed the final tipping point where it all comes crashing down, the moment when Pinkie Pie can no longer hide what she has become.