Shot Down to Earth

by Ruuis

Chapter 2

Hoity wasn't, in particular, of the best of dispositions towards his situation: he was currently going to miss out on a big fashion event; he was not entirely sure whether he was still attached to the mortal realm; and his hair would definitely be ruined. It would take weeks, maybe months, to recover, and that was on IF he was alive. It was turning out to be one of the worst disasters he ever encountered, even taking into consideration that one time in Pony Vegas. His outlook didn't look too good, and the last thing he wanted to hear as he regained consciousness was what he heard.
"Is he waking up?" A voice, unfamiliar to Hoity, spoke calmly. He at least knew he was alive, which made his day somewhat better.
"Eeyup." Said another, nonchalantly. This time, he had some sort of inclination as to who this voice was. He had briefly recalled meeting the owner of this voice for a bit, but had no clue as to if the voice's owner remembered him.
Hoity's vision snapped back to him for a brief period. Observing his surroundings, he noted that he appeared to be on some sort of farm. He hadn't the time to take in anything else, as his vision painfully regressed back to nothingness. He was still aware, so that was a positive.

Noting that her guest had been as obtuse to fall back into comatose (or what appeared to be so), she immediately panicked, and almost barked at him “You still there?!”. This potent mix of inquisitive demanding had rewarded her almost instantaneously, as Hoity, in panic, gave at a feeble “Yes”, before returning to absolute silence. It was amusing, actually, how such a proud pony could be turned into a shivering wreck by breaking every bone in his body.
Happy enough with her question, Applejack began to ask her questions; fruitlessly. After a while, she began to give up hope, and just left him to it.

It only took a while for Hoity to regain his vision, but he didn’t want to see anything: it hurt. Every part of him hurt. He didn’t want to be here, with every part of him broken. Anywhere but here. Any situation but here.

Unfortunately, it was only a day or so more before he had to meet that voice he had heard. As he was getting his evening meal (Hoity Toity was practically a vegetable, minus the mental retardation), when he heard a different, distinct set of hoof noises coming to him. They were masculine, sharper set of noises. He once again, immediately linked it to the voice he had when he first regain sentience.
Almost without any sort of passion, Big Macintosh delivered the food to Hoity, and was about to leave before Hoity forced his eyes open, just to see if he was right. He was.

"Big Macintosh...?" Hoity feebly forced out.

Hoity was met with a response of "Eeyup?"

"Oh dear. It’s him..." Thought Hoity, worriedly. "Nothing...", said Hoity feebly, trying (and failing) not to appear pathetic. Tears started to fall down his face, and he pleaded with whatever divine creator that was up above that Big Macintosh wouldn’t notice. He did.

Big Macintosh, having seen his guest crying as severely as he was, felt obliged to stay there with Hoity, not knowing that it would make the problem worse.

With an extreme case of butterflies, Big Macintosh approached Hoity, and began to perform a comforting operation upon Hoity. Gently putting his hoof on his torso (the only area that had been spared from the entire ordeal), and, trying his best to console him, asked: "You alright?" This, however seemed to have the opposite effect; Hoity began to cry again, after a brief respite. Now Big Macintosh was touching him, yet he'd never, ever have the farm stallion.

Hoity eventually managed to summon up the courage to give a measly "No..." before beginning to cry again. Big Macintosh, once again surprised by his guest's actions, began to try and cheer him up, (despite his stomach’s best interest; the butterflies had started to swarm), and probe into exactly why he was upsetting him, despite only having just met him. The answer to this came in the form of a whine. Big Macintosh, realizing it was hopeless, left him, thinking the fashion critic hated him or he had done something to upset him previously. Hoity also realized that, and, in a moment of pure desperation, expelled all of his energy to force out acry of, "I don’t hate you..." hoping that he'd hear.

The last words had a drastic effect on Big Macintosh, and, in fact, had managed to make him curious about Hoity. He took sole responsibility over him, and quickly formed some sort of a bond with him. Hoity, realizing how well this event had played over in his favor, instantly cheered up. He began to herald with joy the meetings he had, and, as he regained basic motor function, was soon enjoying the situation. Anypony who was in the family could see that those two were growing close. Even Applejack was began to ponder the subject. Big Macintosh denied everything, of course. The supposed feelings that were as clear as day weren't easy to see to the oblivious Big Macintosh, and he continued on, becoming good friends with Hoity.

That continued for about another month or so, until a dreadful storm fell upon Ponyville. Hoity hated, hated storms. When Big Macintosh came to check in on him to make sure he was healthy and how he was progressing, he was surprised to see the shivering wreck that Hoity had regressed to. He was laid on his bed, tears streaming down his face, with a terrified expression plastered upon his features. This evoked an immediate response from Big Macintosh, who couldn’t just lay there as his friend was crying.

"Something up?" Big Macintosh asked, trying to act nonchalantly, but failing in that respect. He seemed as scared as Hoity.

"I... I just hate storms..." Hoity stated, clearly lying. He wasn't even making an attempt at deception.

"Ah can clearly tell yer lyin'; what’s wrong?" Big Macintosh asked again, slightly calmer this time. He sensed that Hoity wanted him to investigate.

"You...You promise you won’t laugh?" Hoity inquired, sheeplishly.

"Ah promise." Big Macintosh said, with a kind tone being pleasantly added to his voice.

"As you can quite well imagine, I've always been in a relationship at one point or another. Every time one of my coltfriends would break up with me, or vice versa, it would be during a storm. I've associated the two ever since." Once again, a blatant lie; but the truth was buried within.

“Ah’m calling horsecrap. That can’t be all.” Big Macintosh had figured out this little game he was playing, and was going to play it until the bitter end.

"Alright, then. I've.... I've..." Hoity tried to spit out the words, but his tongue failed him. He couldn't. Yet he had to.

“Yer alright tah tell me this?” Big Macintosh’s worry had swelled inside him, and he wondered if this was the best choice to pursue.

"I'll be fine. My parents... They had an argument. It was during a storm. The intensity of it was overwhelming to my 8 year old self, and I couldn't focus on anything. The storm increased its severity as the fight did." Hoity continued, but was holding back deep emotions. "I had to hide under my bed as my father came in; shouting at me. They left each other soon after." Hoity finished, the tears regaining their vigour soon after.

Big Macintosh was clearly shocked by this, and asked him a final question, "What was it about?"

"It was about... Me." He said, the tears flowing down his face. "They didn't like that I was interested in fashion and colts. Father never did. He tried to beat it out of me, like I was infected with some disgusting disease." Big Macintosh, worried about the gravity of the entire situation, asked if he should leave, but was met with a most unusual answer. "No... don't leave me... not tonight." Hoity pleaded. "Don't... leave..." Hoity was unapologetic at this point. He wanted him to stay by his side, throughout the night.

"But Ah need to sleep!" Refused Big Macintosh. He soon saw that refusing him wasn’t an option.

"Sleep next to me... Keep me safe, please..." Hoity said, that same pang of desperation ever-prominent in his voice.

"Alright then, Ah’ll do it, just this once."

This made Hoity possibly the happiest pony in Ponyville, but he still couldn’t stem the tide of tears. Big Macintosh got into the bed with Hoity, and tried to minimize the amount of touching. This failed, miserably, when Hoity pulled Big Macintosh's hoof over to him, forcing him to cuddle the lithe critic. The feelings of cuddling a stallion to him was weird, though he wasn't sure he disliked them. The warmth of Hoity, the weird curvature of Hoity's body and the strange feeling of comfort all swelled within Big Macintosh. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was falling for him. Hoity knew this, and slept possibly the best night's sleep he had ever slept.

Comments

[Gabriel LaVedier]

Look, uhh... I've made good progress on my own stories so far. I can lose a day. Would you care for an editorial hand?