Ponyville was in a state of distress. At 3am in the morning, everypony had suddenly woken up. Princess Luna was discovered a few minutes later, lying unconscious in the middle of a street, next to a cardboard cut-out of a moon. She had been rushed to the hospital, and Celestia had been discreetly summoned by Twilight. Nopony could work out what had happened and the only two ponies who'd been there had travelled to Manehattan before anypony had realised they were gone...
- - - - - - - - - -
The apartment was dingy.
Fanta did not mind, it was infinitely nicer than the boxcar she'd used to travel here in, but it still felt... unclean. Feather really didn't like it, and was spraying bleach all over the walls in an effort to remove the sticky black marks that called the apartment their home but to no avail.
She sighed and stared angrily at the marks. Fanta felt something, a tiny twinge somewhere inside her that demanded to be heard. She thought back for a moment to some brochures Feather had slipped into the box during their ride to Manehattan. She groaned internally, and cursed herself for feeling bad for Feather, then spoke up. "We... Could go... To a carnival?"
Feather squeed, and bounced up and down, somehow nodding at the same time without her head falling off. Fanta rolled her eyes, and pulled her out the door. They were careful to avoid main roads, no wanting to attract too much attention. They alley they were going through suddenly opened up into a flamboyant world of ecstatic colour.
Manehattan carnival was in full swing. Huge floats trundled through the streets, music blaring everywhere. Ponies crowded to see the floats, and just as many flowed through the stalls lining the roads. Local businesses both big and small were showing off their goods to anypony who stopped to look.
Fanta and Feather kept away from the floats (mostly because Feather had a distaste for loud music), and walked around the stalls instead. Feather impulsively bought everything with sugar on it, and Fanta kept a look out for ponies who'd want to do her harm.
She was not expecting Feather to suddenly pull her into a tent, to be welcomed by the kind of voice Fanta knew all too well - the voice of a shrink. "Welcome to Manehattan psychology and therapy, how may we help you?" Fanta cringed, and shot a questioning, desperate glance at Feather, who pointed at a sign that said, "free therapy sessions!" Fanta cursed the universe under her breath, something she would later admit was not a smart move.
"We would each like one of your FREE sessions, please!" Feather said, emphasising the word 'free' so as to make sure she didn't have to pay for anything.
"Of course, right this way." The formally-dressed mare behind the counter gestured towards a tent flap to her left. The pair ducked through, immediately finding themselves inside a large building, designed much like a hotel reception room. A colourful stallion with a slight build trotted over to meet them. "Hello! Sorry if this is a bit disorienting, we thought it would just be easier to have our tent steal backed up against our actual business." He giggled and Fanta could almost see Feather's heart rate quicken. "Just go up the stairs to the second floor, the therapy rooms will be right in front of you. Choose whichever you like!" Fanta nodded, dragging Feather away from the cute stallion.
"C'mon! Let's get this over with, you can flirt with stallions later!"
"But he's so cuuuuute!"
The pair eventually made it to the second floor. They checked out each door. Each had a "do not disturb" sign hanging on it, except for two at the end of the corridor.
Fanta and Feather looked up at the two doors, each with a gold name plaque. Feather stepped through the left door, which left Fanta with the door on the right. The name plaque read, 'Sigmare Freud'. Fanta grumbled, angry that Feather had talked her into this, and barged in without knocking. The office was exactly what you'd expect from a business like this - not too small, not too large. The wood panelling on the walls and the red carpet made it feel comfortable, but not too familiar. The furniture was all wood - Fanta couldn't see a single metal object in the entire place, save of course, the hands of the clock, which ticked at a volume level that was loud enough to be heard, but you only heard it if you wanted to hear it. There was a single potted plant, with an immaculately clean pot and shiny, healthy leaves. This office wasn't decorated, it was crafted. Crafted by ponies who knew exactly how to get inside somepony's mind.
And it was empty. Fanta was about to leave, when the door opened behind her. "Hello, Miss Shock."
- - - - - - - - -
Feather settled into the lounge chair, grateful for the rest. The stallion sat at the desk looked on with distaste as Feather's hooves, sticky from eating free food, rested on the spotless lounger. He resisted the temptation to sigh. "Hello there. May I ask your name, Miss?"
"I'm Feather! Though you can call me Snuggle if you prefer." Feather wiggled happily in the chair. Last time she'd done this was with Pinkie, and it was great fun! She'd never even known about her secret obsession for raspberry cupcakes until Pinkie had shown her!
The stallion rolled his eyes, and leant forward. "How long have you had these feelings of... Anxiety?" He murmured, as his horn silently lit up.
"Anxiety? But I feel... Fine... I guess..." Feather's ears drooped, her lips slowly curved downwards. The stallion grinned, his horn going out.
"You seem very anxious to me, Miss Feather."
- - - - - - - - -
"How do you know my name?!" Fanta span around, poised and ready for battle.
"My, my. Aren't you a jumpy one, Miss Shock? Sit down, please. I will explain." The mare, a unicorn, calmly walked past Feather. She had a light brown coat, with a dark, almost black mane that was neatly styled. She had emerald green eyes gazing over some rose-tinted spectacles. Her cutie mark was a cloud under scrutiny from a magnifying glass. Her voice was smooth, yet formal. Her eyes watched Fanta carefully, calculating and cold, but with a quiet air of familiarity. She sat at her desk, which had only an expensive pen and a small name plaque on it. Fanta grimaced, but sat on the lounge chair. She did not, however, lay down. Freud made no obvious note of this. Fanta narrowed her eyes. She wasn't going to let another pinch inside her head.
"So, Miss Shock."
"How do you know me?"
"Oh, where do I begin? You wouldn't believe how few ponies wear eyepatches. And there was the business with the cultists, wasn't there? The Royal Guard is keeping things all hush-hush, but my sources have told me that you were directly involved. Something to do with a mysterious door?" Fanta silently glowered. "My point is, you are by no means unknown." Freud tapped her lips thoughtfully. "I understand you do not use magic?"
"I do use magic, just not often. Why does that interest you?" Fanta retorted.
"I rarely used my magic as a filly - as a result, my magic is weakened. I can tell from your... Emotional expression that you do not like me. But we are not that different."
"Like hay we're not that different."
"We will see. Do you mind if I ask - why do you do what you do? Why are you so different?"
"How'd you mean? If you're asking why I'm not wearing makeup, it's because I get a rash when putting on lipstick."
"I mean, quite simply, why do you fight? Every other pony would run, and go find a princess to bother, or something. Yet you always resist."
Fanta leaned forward, a slight smile on her lips. "Why do I fight, Miss Freud? Because I want to live."
"Other ponies seek content to hide, and survive."
"But they don't always survive, do they?" The dragon can burn through wooden doors. Diamond dogs can tunnel into caves. The best way to survive is stop the threat before it stops you."
"So, every one of the recent attacks on Ponyville was a threat to you? How about the invasion of the mind cats? You could've moved elsewhere. There was no real threat to you."
"Freud, have you heard of the term, 'survival of the fittest?'"
"Of course."
"It's garbage."
"Oh?" Freud leaned forward with interest.
"Maybe in the Everfree, survival of the fittest makes sense. But not in Equestria. In this land, to survive, you must help. Tirek's brother helped us, we survived and he gained many new friendships. Celestia rainbowed Nightmare Moon, she suffered for 1,000 years. To survive, you must be cruel. To live, you must fight, and not just for yourself. Plus..." Fanta leant back on the chair. "Fighting is fun. Often tedious, but mostly fun."
"I see... You fight for your friends. How noble."
"Friend. And she'd get herself killed if I didn't save her, she's a complete dimwit."
"I see." Freud smiled.
Fanta blanched. She'd done it again; been opened up by a pinch. On one hoof, she admired Freud. The mare was smart. She knew how to get under a pony's skin.
On the other hoof, she wanted to throw the therapist through the window. She decided it would be best to leave. She got to her hooves. "Well, this has been lovely and all, but I must be going."
Freud tilted her head. "So soon?"
Fanta nodded, making for the door. "I... Have a train to catch." She slammed the door behind her before Freud could argue. Feather wasn't in the corridor. She knocked on the door that Feather had gone through. No response. Worry brushed her mind, as she listened.
She heard something. She backed up a few metres. Then she charged.
- - - - - - - - - -
Feather was scared. Anxiety flooded her mind, her limbs shaking as sweat dropped off them. Her vision was going grey. Life felt meaningless. Worthless. Why did she bother? Nopony really liked her. She was annoying. Impulsive. Deadweight.
She let out a sob.
And the door came off its hinges, taking the stallion with it, as well as his desk, and going straight through the back window, three stories until the mass of stallion and expensive wood hit the floor. Fanta paid no attention, she had grabbed Feather, and was searching her eyes for signs of life. "Are you okay? What happened?" She frantically whispered.
Feather sniffled. "I feel... So sad... Please help me... P-please..."
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Freud stood in what was left of the doorway. She barely had time to register the frying pan as it sent her flying into the wall. She went still, unconscious.
Fanta scooped up Feather, and ran.
- - - - - - - - - -
"She will okay." The doctor looked up from his clipboard. "She was mentally affected by magic - a particularly nasty dark magic. Opened up anxiety, depression, all sorts of nasty mind bugs. She'll be fine, but keep an eye on her. She needs to rest."
Fanta nodded. "Thanks, doc. Can I see her?"
"Of course, I'll leave you with her for a few minutes. I have two patients who recently came in. One fell three stories, but a cotton candy stall broke his fall. Quite lucky, really..." He trailed off as he trotted away. Fanta turned, smirking, and opened the door. Feather looked up from her bed. "Hey, Featherbrain! How're you feeling?" Fanta sat up on the bed.
"I'm alright... Feeling a bit like... I was invaded. It's scary. I thought I got rid of my anxiety long ago, Fanta." Feather hugged her knees.
Fanta patted her. "Anxiety can pop up when we least expect it. Just don't let it beat you, Feather. You are always stronger than your anxiety." Feather nodded in response. Fanta inwardly cringed, steeling herself. "Feather, I'm here for you. I'm your frie-" she was cut short by Feather's hug. "... There, there." She patted her friend's back. "Come on, before the doctor comes back and I have to hit him hard enough to give him short-term memory loss. Plus..." Her smile twisted into an evil grin. "We've Gotta rack up some property damages."
On the other side of Manehattan General Hospital, a unicorn calmly listened as her injuries were discussed with her by a nurse, who eventually told her that she was free to go, as long as she replaced the ice pack regularly, and didn't sleep for a few hours. Freud nodded, thanked the nurse, and left. She took the next cab back to the carnival. She went into the 'free therapy' tent, and stepped into the now-empty reception. She made her way back to her office and sighed as she passed the ruined therapy room. Sitting at her desk, she reached into a file and pulled out a sheet of paper.
'Award of Excellence, Freud's Mental Institute and Research. 100% patient recovery success rate.' The paper read.
Freud picked a spare pair of spectacles out of a drawer, her face expressionless as she picked up the phone. "I'm sorry, Miss Shock. But you and your friend can't tell anypony about our secret." She dialled a number, pondering what she should have for tea.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Feather and Fanta were still sat in hospital. The doctors didn't want the pegasus to be moved yet, and Fanta had offered to stay. Feather was currently asleep, and Fanta was reading a newspaper. The headline read: 'OFFICE MYSTERIOUSLY EXPLODES! Magical Battle or Invisible Angry Bear?!'. Fanta snorted, and looked up as the doctor came in.
"Miss Shock?"
"Yeah?"
"There's a stallion here to see you, he says it's important."
Fanta paused. "Doc? If I go see this pony, would you mind staying with Feather?"
The doctor nodded. "Sure."
Fanta stepped into the foyer. Her fur bristled. There was a doctor in the corner, his back to her. There was a nurse behind a desk, and the stallion she'd heard about, standing in the middle of the room. "Ahhh, Miss Shock."
"What do you want?"
"This."
The stallion lunged forward, a concealed knife slicing through the air. Fanta wheeled back, bringing a hoof up to clock him in the jaw. He stumbled, and fell back. The doctor and the nurse stood up, both wielding knives. The trio growled at Fanta, advancing slowly.
Fanta sighed. At least it wouldn't be hard to get them medical treatment afterwards.