I blinked. I blinked again. And again and again. My teeth chattered. My breaths were shaky and choked. Without thinking, I raised my head the little that I could and slammed it back against the bed with a thunk, trying to slip back into the coma and force this reality away. But I didn't pass out. I breathed in shallow, rapid breaths, and the machine next to me beeped faster and faster. I did it again – thunk – then a third and a fourth time – thunk-thunk – but everything was still the same.
I felt lightheaded, and I couldn't keep track of my thoughts. 'Is he at a different hospital? He's hurt, or he'd be here. Why isn't he here?' My jaw clenched. My face twitched. I was sweating, and my pulse felt out of sync with itself.
I sucked in one more giant breath and clenched all my muscles. 'I have to help him. He needs me.'
My forelegs were suspended up on either side of me. I pulled down on them, but a sharp pain shot through me, and I realized how numb they had felt just hanging there. I couldn't move them far. I was in some kind of restraints, and I felt faint as I saw my legs wrapped in casts again. Involuntarily, my wings tried to flare out and flip me over, but they had been strapped to my body, too. If I'd been in my right mind, I would have known it was to prevent me from hurting myself, but all I could think was, 'I have to get out! He needs me!'
I didn't care that I was restrained. I didn't care that moving my forelegs made every bone in my body sting and every nerve flare to life. I tried to turn my head and look around, but it was still stuck between those stupid pillows, and in the middle of the night like that, it was too dark to really see anything. 'I have to find him!' I gritted my teeth, and I yanked my forelegs downward, as hard as I could.
Pain – so intense that I couldn't breathe or scream – then nausea, then nothing. I grunted and whined as tears stung my eyes. "Hmmf!" My voice barely worked, and I could barely open my jaw. I arched my body and tried to force my wings out of their restraints. Cool air rushed across my sweaty back. I kicked my hind legs, but my range of motion was so limited that it barely made the bed squeak. In my desperation, I made it squeak over and over, hoping it would change anything. The dark quiet was everywhere. I couldn't even make enough noise to fill my little corner of the room. And I was helpless to save Braeburn. 'He needs me. He needs me!'
But as I bit my cheek to stifle a sob, my body rigid and still pulling against the restraints, a thought occurred to me. 'Or… he's just staying away. Like he's supposed to.' The tension in my body faded quickly away, along with all my energy, and I flopped back down onto the bed. Cold numbness spread from my hooves to my face as I realized, 'He's… not coming.'
I lay there, softly wheezing and out of breath.
My eyes watered, and I sniffled. 'He's not coming.' My head wanted to thrash from side to side, but all I could do was rock it back and forth, and even that made me dizzy. My tail thumped weakly at the end of the bed. I took two more breaths, then wrenched my eyes shut and forced myself to think, 'And I have to be okay with that.
I was dizzy, but as the fog cleared from my mind, I thought, 'He shouldn't come.' It sent a chill through my body, but I kept telling myself, 'He's not mine. He needs his space. Braeburn will be happy out there.'
Hot tears rolled down my face, and I laughed. Applebutt was back home, and that's where he belonged. I thought about him waking up in the morning and going out for a walk around the orchards. I pictured him directing the townsponies in whatever their latest project was. He was living a normal life, and I swore at myself, 'You fucking bastard. He's happy. Don't take that away from him.' I sobbed again. 'I want you to be happy, Applebutt.'
But I wondered if he would read the papers that day. I wondered if he'd be tempted to come back.
And I shuddered. 'No!' I shook my head in the limited way I could. 'He wouldn't be healthy here. He doesn't need a broken pegasus weighing him down. He's not here, and he shouldn't be.' It hurt to admit, and it hurt even more that I knew I was right.
I felt… cold. Everywhere.
My whole body felt flat, and a tight knot formed in my stomach. It grew, consuming my chest and my throat, and I sobbed again. 'Don't.' I felt like I was collapsing into a little, dark pile of muck, and I sobbed again, louder. 'He's better off out there. Grow up.' It got louder. 'Fucking stop it!'
I wept openly. Spit dribbled out of the side of my mouth. Even if I knew it was for the best, my heart still reached for him. "It's okay, Braeburn," I mumbled. I barely recognized my voice, like my mouth was full of cotton. "It's okay. Y-you stay h-happy, Brae." I could barely speak. My throat felt like it was full of jagged rocks, but the more I said, the more convinced I was. And every time I thought about him being happy, the dark room felt a little brighter. "It's okay, Applebutt. Be happy. Stay far away."
My restraints rattled as I shook against them, but I barreled forward. I needed to know, deep down, that I was okay with this. "I miss you, Braeburn. But it's okay." I shook, but I hoped that, somehow, he could feel how much I loved him. "Just be happy, Applebutt. Please be–"
"Blue?"
I gasped and tensed. My eyes opened wide, despite the stinging tears. My jaw was open and tight, and I didn't dare breathe. My ears strained to hear it again. My heart tore itself in half, because I didn't believe what I'd heard. I didn't want to hope, because it could have been another trick of my mind. 'It wasn't real. Don't panic. It's another hallucination. He's not–'
"S–… Soarin'?" It was groggy, tired, and strained. It echoed around the room with a broken, reserved hopefulness. But it was beautiful and healing, and I would have known it anywhere. I gasped again, afraid to say anything.
"Soarin'!" A couple meters to my side, a couch creaked. I tried to look, but my neck was too stiff to twist. Four hooves hit a hard floor, and they raced towards me.
'This isn't real. This isn't–'
Out of the corner of my eye, in the dim light of the moon, I saw a small, blue gemstone glint off of a fuzzy yellow ear, and I hoped. I hoped harder than I ever have, and pulling all my energy into my lungs, I forced myself to speak in a weak, grainy voice. "B-Braeburn?"
Even in the dark, Braeburn's face lit up the world. His soft nose, his kind eyes, all that masculine and feminine beauty that I'd fallen in love with months prior… He was there. Really there. I still didn't believe it could be true, but I gave in. I lurched my body upwards without thinking, trying to grab onto him, and as I hit the restraints, a scream caught in my throat. I couldn't touch him, and I realized that I'd probably scared him away or – worse – broken the illusion.
But instead of jumping back, he leaned into me. "It's okay, it's okay," Braeburn cooed quickly. "I'm here, I'm here. You lie down now. I'm here." His hooves explored all over me, feeling my chest and my face. They felt warm against the cold night, and even where my injuries were raw and his touch should have hurt, it made my body feel ready to leap out of bed. "You're gonna be okay." He teared up, and his voice broke. "Aw, Bl–!" Braeburn threw his head onto my chest, and he shook as he crawled halfway onto the bed and hugged me tightly. His mane brushed against my chin. It carried the freshly restored scent of apples, and he bawled into my fur. "You're okay. You're awake, and you're gonna be okay."
My bones screamed as I tried to pull my forelegs down again to return his hug. I couldn't move my neck, and I cried as my emotions poured out of me. My skin tingled wherever he touched me. The whole world scintillated when I saw his face again, and the agony of not being able to return his affection was like a needle at the back of my neck. I settled on gently brushing his side with my hind leg. It made him laugh and sob at the same time, and he grabbed my leg, held it to his face, and kept laughing. That smile, and knowing that I'd given it to him, took away all the pain that was left in my body.
But I started feeling light-headed.
Braeburn kissed my chest. "You're gonna be okay, Soarin'."
I blinked away the haze. "Brae… How are you here?"
Braeburn's face collapsed inward, and he jerked his head away. He moved to cover himself with a hoof, but he sniffled and looked back at me instead. "I–" His eyes closed, and he frowned. Slowly, he stroked my side. "I'm sorry, Soarin'. It's all my f–"
'No, it's not.' My voice refused to work, so I weakly kicked my leg out to get his attention. I immediately felt like I'd flown a hundred laps.
Braeburn startled. "Ah! S-sorry, Blue. Did I hurt you?" He searched my face, but I still couldn't find any words. His voice dropped. "This must be hell for you, tryin' to talk like this." He started to mumble, "And you wouldn't be here if I–"
My whole body stirred, and my eyes opened wide. I gritted my teeth and grunted, "Hrn!" I kicked my legs again, harder this time. I thought I could taste blood at the back of my throat, but all I could think was, 'No, Brae. It's not your fault.'
"Soarin', what's–" His ears flattened against his head, and his eyes widened. Slowly he smiled, huffed a breath, and shook his head. "Heh." He smiled and wiped his face with a fetlock. "Dammit, I'm supposed to be carin' for you, Big Blue." He looked at me with soft, sad eyes. "You're a dream. And you're right." With a shake of his head, he bent down and kissed my aching leg. "Thanks, Soarin'. I'm still workin' on it. It… wasn't my fault." He sighed. "I can't be responsible for Bronze's actions."
With an effort that left me breathless, I managed to whisper, "Proud of you, Applebuh."
Braeburn set a warm hoof on my chest. "I'm proud of me, too. But I… I wish I would've– The passes were right there and–" He stopped himself, took a deep breath, and fell deeper into his thoughts.
As quietly as I could manage, I drew in a breath. "Iss okay, Applebuh. You can… tell me." My chest rumbled. "Not like… I can run away."
Braeburn looked back at me. His eyes met mine, and it felt like he was climbing a lifeline back to me. He smiled and stroked my leg. "I did it, Blue." He took a breath and spoke clearly, like he was still trying to convince himself that it had happened. "I stood up to Bronze, and you were right. I wasn't alone. My team was behind me the whole way. Heh. Never seen him back down like that before. But…" He shook his head and frowned. "I don't know how he did it, Soarin', and I should have noticed sooner." He took a deep breath and kept stroking me.
I wheezed, "He took… your pass." A laugh made my chest feel tight. "I almost signed it."
Braeburn shuddered. "I'm so sorry, Soarin'. When I saw that a couple of them were gone, I just knew something bad would happen. I felt it, and I came as soon as I could, but–" He stifled a sob. "But I wasn't quick enough."
I tried to smile, and I have no idea if I succeeded. "But not your fault," I whispered in the quiet night. I felt dizzy again.
Braeburn gently nuzzled my chest. "I know, I know. Don't worry. I mean, I ain't totally convinced yet, but I know, deep down." He shook out his mane and rested his head against me. "But that doesn't matter now. You're okay, and I'm gonna stay for as long as you need me."
…
He…
My heart felt heavy. He was making promises again. I strained to tell him no, that he shouldn't do that. He couldn't tie himself down again, but all I managed was a raspy mumble.
"What do you need, Blue?" He put an ear to my mouth.
I swallowed and took a deep breath. The dark was creeping into the corners of my vision, and I knew I didn't have long. I had to choose my words carefully, and I–
Look, don't hate me. I didn't know if I'd be able to come back again on my own. "I can… hear you. Your voice." As I cursed myself for being so weak-willed, the room grew darker.
Braeburn chuckled and gently brushed my matted mane from my face. Feeling his touch eased my breathing and kept the dark away. "Well, I'm glad you ain't deaf."
I wanted to shake my head, but all I could do was wince. "Gonna sleep. Keep talking. Hear you."
"You're gonna– Oh. Oh!" He grabbed my chest. "No! No no, don't do that." He stroked my face. "You gotta stay here with me, Soarin'."
I smiled, or at least I tried to. "Sorry, Applebuh. No choice." My eyelids fluttered, and I couldn't feel my hind legs.
"Nurse!" His face had gone long and pale. Without taking his hooves off me, he turned his head and shouted, "Nurse! Help, nurse! He's awake!" I started to laugh, but he turned to me. "I'll be here, Soarin'. I'll keep talkin'. You just come back. Promise?"
I tried to nod my head. 'Thanks, Brae. Love you.'
I heard another set of hooves. A screechy mare's voice said, "Mister Apple, if you can't keep quiet, you'll be removed from–"
"H-he's awake! Or he was." My eyes had closed, but I still heard him breathing heavily.
The mare nickered. "I'll look him over, but you need to keep it down. You're already violating policy as is." She grunted and stepped closer. "Would you prefer to stay downstairs for a while? We also have guest accommodations across the street."
Applebutt neighed and stomped a hoof. "Hell no. I'm stayin'. He can hear me!"
I smiled and relaxed back into a deep sleep.
There were no more bad dreams. Instead, as I teetered on the edges of two realities again, I could just stay still and listen. No matter how the world churned around me or what horrors tried to pop up, I listened to Braeburn's voice on the wind. It was always there, telling me stories about his foalhood or what the weather was like in Appleloosa these days. As I faded in and out, his voice became more and less clear, coming and going in cycles. Even when I couldn't make out what he was saying, though, I still felt a soft yellow light all around me, and eventually, it guided me back to consciousness.
Poor Braeburn… His voice was so raspy when I finally woke up at around sunrise, and the bags under his eyes rivaled mine. He kept going, though, more lethargic than usual, but with a warm smile on his face. "…Slate's new colt is healthy as can be, too. Little chubby, but that's good for newborns most of the time. Heh, if his daddy has any say, he'll be workin' it off in no time. Gonna be a big stallion, that one. Ain't seen Slate so happy in a long while." He paused. "Hm? Oh! You, uh, you back with us, Blue?"
My eyes were open, and I saw daylight. I breathed easily when I saw Braeburn, but the back of my mind still nagged at me: even if it was a relief, he wasn't supposed to be there.
Braeburn wiped his sweaty forehead. "Heh. Your timin' is terrible. Fire Streak and Spitfire were just here." He gently patted my chest. "They were real worried about you. Said they'd try again tomorrow."
I snickered and spoke with labored breaths. "I mean… It sounds like they're the ones wi–… with bad timing."
Braeburn laughed nervously and kissed my forehead. "Heh heh. I don't know if Spitfire'd take kindly to that accusation, but maybe you're right." Some of the color drained from his voice, and he trailed off with, "They're good ponies, though." He looked down at the floor.
I sucked in a breath and held it. 'He… knows that we need to talk.' I shook my head and breathed normally again, and I decided to orient myself before tackling anything huge.
My neck felt… funny, and it took a bit to realize that the pillows that had been wedged around my head had been removed. With a deep breath, I lifted my stiff neck and looked around the hospital room. Braeburn told me to go easy on myself, but I replied, "Just gotta see… how classy it is." He laughed and let me look.
My first thought was, 'Nice. They put me in a private suite.' It wasn't huge – what hospital room is? – but my bed was towards the corner near the window, and there was a sitting couch and a tiny library of books opposite me. Machines I didn't recognize whirred next to my bed. The white walls felt pretty oppressive, but at least there weren't any light sources directly above me. On an end table near the couch, I saw a pile of get-well cards and lots of flowers. A few vases had to sit on the floor to make room.
I relaxed back into my bed, and I fidgeted a little to adjust my back. My forelegs itched, but since I knew scratching them was out of the question, I let my mind drift back to the moment. As I looked back at Braeburn, my thoughts settled on something even more uncomfortable: no matter how much I wanted him to stay, it wasn't healthy for either of us.
Braeburn snickered. "Up to your standards?"
"Yeah," I sighed. I started feeling the tired come back, and I knew I couldn't wait long. "Sorry, Applebutt. I'm fading again, but we… need to talk."
He frowned, which stuck a dagger in me, but then he set his jaw and spoke clearly. "Yeah, you're…" He looked down. "You're right." He traced my chest with his eyes and his hoof. "First thing when you wake up?"
"Yeah." My body went slack, and my eyes had already given up. "Get some… rest, Braeburn. I promise I'll come back."
"Same, Soarin'."
I faded out. There was no Braeburn voice this time, but I didn't need it. I knew he'd be waiting for me.
It was a pretty decent rest. Not full-night good, but hours-long-nap-after-a-tough-workout-and-one-too-many-gin-and-tonics good. I only half-woke up once when I felt pain in my hoof. I kicked my leg out and lifted my head with an incomprehensible, "Bwuh?"
The stallion nurse from my first night was there. "Good day. Do you know where you are?" His voice was clear and direct.
I instinctively tried to rub my eyes, but venom shot through my forelegs. I swallowed the pain, though, and just blinked a few times. "Yeah. Hospital." I cleared my throat. "I had a bad crash." I raised an eyebrow at him. "And you're doing that… coma test thing again, aren't you?"
He smiled. "Yes, and you're showing improvement. I'll be taking your vitals, including another blood draw. Will that be okay?"
With a raspy voice, I said, "Yeah." I cautiously turned my head and found I had a better range of motion than before. Braeburn was deep asleep on a couch at the opposite side of the room. His slow, rhythmic breathing synced up with mine. I smiled, and as I flicked my left ear, I noticed that it was just a little heavier than usual. I couldn't quite see it, but I knew the stud there, and I thought, 'Thanks, Applebutt.'
The nurse glanced towards Braeburn, then chuckled as he fastened a blood-pressure cuff to my haunch. "He's been here for several hours. Is he somepony special?"
My body warmed. "You have no idea."
The nurse took more of my vitals, and soon, I was back out.
After what felt like just a few seconds, I woke up to the smell of coffee and the lifeless white of the hospital room. Braeburn was out of my field of vision, but I could sense him there. "Morning."
"Heh. Late afternoon, actually." He was solemn, and he didn't rush to greet me this time. I heard his mug clink against a metal table somewhere near him.
I strained to look at him as he approached. "Saw you sleeping. It was cute." My throat felt better, and a little lightning shot up my spine when my voice sounded almost normal, if a little slow.
"Aw, I only slept a little." He slowly stood and walked over. "A few winks here and there. Ended up finally gettin' somethin' to eat an hour or so ago." His nose wrinkled.
It hurt my chest to laugh, but it felt so good. "Haha! That bad?"
Braeburn stuck his tongue out. "I ain't picky, but it's garbage here. It's like they want you to stay sick."
"You should have gone back there. Shown them how it's done."
"Naw, I'm not practiced in fixin' over-salted, wilted vegetables." He stretched his back legs, and his voice bounced a little. "Wasn't all bad, though. I got to meet a fine mare who wanted to pass along her condolences." He cantered over to me. "Didn't get to talk long, but Jet's a pretty fine gal. She left you some flowers, too." He jerked his head towards the mountain of flowers. "The pretty blue ones with the silvery-lookin' bits."
I looked past Braeburn, and Mom's flowers stuck out among all the others. They weren't blue. They were cerulean with some silver at the top. 'Just like Dad.' It sobered me that she'd chosen those exact colors, and I wondered, 'Mom came all the way here, even though she wants to protect Twister and Cyclone from all of this. She really meant what she said, didn't she?'
I tried to sit up. Bad idea. After a wince and a quick shake of my head to keep Braeburn from freaking out, I asked, "She was here?"
Braeburn nodded. "Just for a bit. She's gonna write a nasty letter to the Wonderbolts about pullin' military protocol on her."
I raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
Braeburn scratched at the back of his head. "They didn't let her in. She's not listed as your emergency contact or anything."
"Right." The back of my head itched, too, but, well, you know. "I'll write her a letter."
Braeburn smiled. "That'll make us all happy, I think."
I cocked my head to the side. "So… How'd you get in, then? You're not my emergency contact anymore, either."
"Ha! Strangest thing." He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a little square of paper with some tape on it. "This pegasus couple was tryin' to get in, too, but security wasn't lettin' anypony through. They recognized me and said I deserved to see you. There was a lot of yellin', but then they ran off, grabbed some paper and a pen, and stuck this thing to my butt." He held up the paper. It had a pie with little wings and a parachute drawn on it. "Not sure why it worked, but it did. I thanked 'em, but I forgot to get their names."
I smiled. "Cobalt Breeze and Sunburst."
Braeburn looked back at the paper, then to me. "That'd fit their coat colors, I think. Friends of yours?"
I laughed. "Yeah. I think so. I really owe them a private show sometime."
"Aw, not until you, uh…" He trailed off and looked away. "…get better."
My expression drooped. "…Yeah."
There was a long pause, and the air hung thick. I tried twice to speak, but the words kept catching in my throat when I saw Braeburn looking at me with wide eyes and his ears down. Ultimately, though, I realized that I didn't know how much time I had before I'd fade out again. With a weak voice, I said, "Braeburn, you shouldn't–"
"–shouldn't be here," he sighed. "Yeah, I…" He looked down and wiped his mouth with a fetlock. His bangs fell across his eyes. "I know, Blue. I've been thinkin' about it since I got here." He sneered and shrugged, and he sounded exhausted. "I promise I won't beat myself up, but I hope you don't blame me for comin'." His hoof felt warm as he set it against my side. "I had to make sure you were okay."
I sighed back. "I will be."
There was another long pause.
Braeburn hid a sob with a small laugh. "Course you will." He looked up at me, eyes blinking rapidly. "You're Soarin' Buckin' Windsong. You can survive damn near anything."
My jaw quivered, but I forced a chuckle and an upbeat voice. "Heh. I'm introducing myself as Soarin' Bucking Windsong from now on."
"I'd say you've earned it." Braeburn leaned down and kissed my forehead, then wiped a sudden tear from my face. His hoof rested on my chest for a moment, and he looked out the window. His voice was weak when he finally said, "But you're still gonna need somepony to take care of you."
I responded with artificial confidence. "That's what the nurses are for. Braeburn, I–" I choked up. "I don't want you here." Panic shot up my spine. "I mean, I do, but I don't. Ugh!" I nickered at myself for not being more eloquent.
Braeburn laughed a sad laugh. "I think I know what you mean."
I took a few deep breaths, closed my eyes, and calmed myself. When I looked up, I spoke as gently as I could. "Braeburn, we both know it wouldn't work." I shook my head. "Not right now. Not like this. I'm going to be pretty useless for Luna-knows how long, and I won't tie you down again."
Braeburn's head shook slowly, and he had a faraway, vacant gaze. "You're right, Blue. You're right." He looked at me and gently ruffled my sweaty mane. "It's no wonder I fell for a pony who's so smart and kind." I hated seeing him put on the façade. He was sad, and all the old instincts flooded back.
I cracked. "I-I mean, maybe someday if–"
He held up a hoof and spoke solemnly. "Let's, uh… Let's not do that to ourselves, Soarin'." He shook his head and started drawing little circles on my chest with his hoof. His light touch relaxed me. "If it happens, it'll make me happy, but we… We can't. Not now. Like you said, not like this."
I lowered my eyes. "Yeah. No point in torturing ourselves."
"Right."
His hoof stopped moving around my chest. I stared at it for a drawn-out moment, taking in all the angles and little chips and thinking about all the places it had been. It looked healthy, if a little dirty from the Appleloosa desert, and I wished I could hold it again. I wished for a lot of things, but mostly, I simply thought, 'That's Braeburn's hoof.'
I sighed. "I still love you, Braeburn."
"I still love you, too." He gently stroked my mane and casually brushed all the physical pain away. He swallowed hard. "Is there anything I can do for you while I'm here? Anything at all?"
I could already feel him slipping away. My eyes stung, and I answered immediately. "Don't make me say goodbye again."
He scoffed, and I looked up to see him blink away another tear. "Makin' me do it instead? Heh heh." He bent down and gently hugged my middle. "I can do that, Soarin'. I'll, uh… I guess I'll just… stay until you fall back asleep." He flinched. I rubbed him with my hind leg again, and he calmed.
With his hooves wrapped around me, everything felt right. But with all the other distractions gone, I finally noticed that the dark was creeping back towards me. "Thanks, Applebutt."
After some hesitation, he stood back up, but he never took his hoof off of me. "How you wanna pass the time?"
I smiled. All I wanted was to see him happy, one more time, and I knew what we both needed. "Tell me about Appleloosa."
Braeburn glowed immediately, and through a shaky breath, he began. "Aw, you should see it, Blue." He arced a foreleg through the air. "Everything's in bloom, and the late summer varietals are just startin' to come in." He leaned in, and his tail wagged a few times behind him. "And even if it's too hot in the daytime to go whole hog, the nights are cool and pleasant, and the dances are wilder than I've ever seen."
My eyes felt heavy. "Do you dance much these days?"
His voice faltered, but he forced himself to stay upbeat. "Heh. I-I'm the talk of the town, Soarin'." His eyes rapidly searched my face, but he kept smiling, just for me. "A few of the townsponies think my new style's a bit weird, but it makes all the tourists more comfortable. They like seein' somepony else who doesn't quite fit."
My eyes closed. I tried to tell him how proud of him I was, but my mouth didn't work. Instead, I silently cried, and I smiled.
"B-but… But I do fit in there, Blue." He sobbed and breathed quickly, and his voice began to crack. "I get it now. I got it when I stepped off the train and everypony was jealous of my blue stud – mares and stallions alike. They–… Dammit. They s-say it makes me look more confident, and even some of the usual nay-sayers have been quieter lately."
I didn't really feel my body anymore. The numbness was taking over, but this time, it was okay. We were okay. I just wanted to hang on a moment longer.
"Heh. Amazin' what a little change can do for a pony. Or a big one, I-I suppose. But I'm… I'm grateful, S-Soarin'. Appleloosa feels like–… It feels like h-home, and I'm happy there. Truly happy, Soarin', so don't you worry 'bout me. I'll be fine, Big Blue. I'll be–"
* * * * *
We sit on the cloud just outside Soarin's property, back at the Sunrise Estates. We're next to the mailbox, which I came embarrassingly close to running into, and I am unable to tear my eyes away from Soarin'.
Soarin' sits, motionless. His eyes are closed, and he shoulders are relaxed. He takes in a deep breath, wipes his eyes, and says, "Braeburn… was gone by the time I woke up. We kept our promise to each other: I let him live his life out in Appleloosa, and he didn't try to show up and make me feel better. We'd… gone our separate ways. Between the 'Bolts giving vague, boring testimonies and Sapphire Shores' steady stream of pictures, our, uh… Our story never really broke, and nopony ever heard what happened." He sniffles and looks at me with wet eyes.
I swallow a lump in my throat and speak slowly. "So, in a way, you both got what you wanted."
Soarin' laughs a hollow laugh. "Eh, I don't know if I'd go that far. But maybe we got what we needed." He lets out a large, tightly-controlled breath. "Braeburn wasn't alone, and neither was I. I got to see Streak and Spitfire the next day, like they promised, and Mom was there when I got out of the hospital. Heh heh." He wipes his eyes. "She even snuck me a flask of Dark and Stormy in her purse. And… a few days later, I came home and started therapy, and for both our sakes, I stayed as far away from the media as I could get. That was, what, a little over three months ago by now? The recovery's been long, and it gives me a lot of hope, buuuut that's all pretty boring to talk about." He grins at me and laughs half-heartedly.
I clear my throat and struggle to meet his eyes. "For what it's worth, I… think you've earned a few boring months." I remember first realizing that he'd slipped through the cracks. I remember all the time I spent wondering about his story, about why he was so hellbent on being so reclusive. I get it now. "And I certainly don't blame you for hiding from the spotlight."
"Thanks." He blinks a few times and squares his shoulders again. "I guess… that's my story." He motions to my saddlebag. "Think anypony will wanna read it?"
I smirk. "I think some of them will."
For a second, the chill is gone from the air, and we share a smile.
I continue looking at him. "I hope you don't mind, but I need to ask: do you think you and Braeburn will–"
"I… try not to think about it, honestly." He sighs, then stands and walks up the path towards the condo. I follow, focused intently on him. "There's no way to know what'll happen. Some days are good, but some days…" His lips stiffens, and he shakes his head. "Some days, I wish I hadn't sent him away. I try to take it one day at a time and savor the good moments while I can." We arrive at the doorstep. "But you never really know what life is gonna bring you."
My eyes settle on the deadbolt. Its surface is scratched, and I shudder when I think about this morning and how far Soarin's recovery still has to go. His legs – don't stare at his legs – still seem so fragile, and it took him over a full minute to lock the door this morning with those shaky hooves of his. Should I offer to grab his keys for him? He might be insulted if–
Soarin' turns the handle, and the door opens.
I blink and try to reconcile what I'm seeing, but my gaze travels upwards to see Soarin's wearing a smirk that stops my heart. "Huh. Weird. Coulda sworn I locked it this morning."
I stare, dumbfounded. My jaw hangs open, but no words come out, and I'm frozen until Soarin' jerks his head towards the interior of the condo, inviting me to go first.
Swallowing, I take one step, then another, and as I cross into the house, my eyes open wide as a wave of spicy scents fill my nostrils. My mouth immediately waters. It's intoxicating. It fills the air with bold aromas, and I close my eyes to pick them out. Cardamom, for one. Turmeric, too. Cinnamon, basil, peppers of all–
It's curry.
I open my eyes when I hear a metallic clank – a lid settling onto a pot. I stand motionless as I hear hooffalls trot from the center of the kitchen towards the entry hall, and before I can gather my thoughts, it happens.
A yellow face pokes around the corner, one eyebrow raised. With another step, he's right there in front of me: an earth pony, about my height, with a toned, yellow body and a beautiful, golden mane framing a face that's both masculine and feminine in its features. He stands tall. His ear – the one with the blue stud – flicks at me, and after just a split second to look me up and down, his eyes light up, and his face breaks out into the widest, most welcoming smile I've ever seen.
"Hey there!"