//------------------------------// // 41. Moving Out and Moving On // Story: It's The End Of The World As We Know It // by Samey90 //------------------------------// “I want to see her,” Sour Sweet said. Sweeten Sour closed the backpack and looked at it. Even though it was small, it was enough to fit all the things Sour was allowed to take to her new hospital. As far as Sweeten knew, it provided quite a good care, way better than the psychiatric ward in Canterlot City General Hospital. “Ignore me as much as you want, I’m not getting out of here without seeing Sweet Leaf first,” Sour Sweet muttered. Sweeten Sour raised her head. “They took her to the hospice. I’m not sure they’d let you out just so you could go there to say hello. Besides, she isn’t very talkative right now.” “It doesn’t matter,” Sour Sweet replied. “I just want to see her. A few minutes will do.” She sighed. “No one has to know. I just need some normal clothes.” “I’d like to remind you that you’re not here just because you’re sick, but also because you tried to cut off a chunk of your classmate’s face,” Sweeten Sour replied. “If you run away, they’ll put you in some worse place. Not to mention that they may think I helped you.” “I bet that’s the only thing you care about.” Sour Sweet crossed her arms. “You always only think about yourself.” “If I did, I wouldn’t be here, helping you to pack your things,” Sweeten Sour replied. “Also, there’s no way I’m helping you go there.” “How about I ask someone from the staff nicely?” Sour Sweet smiled. “I can have my last wish, right?” Sweeten Sour rolled her eyes. “They’re not going to execute you.” “Yes, but I’m leaving the town and she may die,” Sour Sweet said. “Could you talk to the doctors? They’d listen to you, I’m sure…” Sweeten Sour shook her head. Ten minutes later, sitting in the doctor’s office, Sweeten Sour kept cursing under her breath, wondering what exactly she was doing. She actually knew the doctor well—he used to work with her parents, after all—but she still thought it was a bad idea. The doctor was sitting behind his desk. He looked at Sweeten and asked, “So, what exactly do you want?” “It’s not me, it’s my sister,” Sweeten Sour replied. “She wants to see her friend in the hospice before she leaves.” “I guess we could arrange that,” the doctor said. Sweeten Sour raised her eyebrows. “That’s it?” she blurted out before she managed to stop herself. “Well, I know Sour since she was a child,” the doctor replied. “When your parents decided that it’d be better for someone other than them to be her doctor, they went to me. I always found it sad that–” “– a daughter of a pair of shrinks turned out to be a psycho?” Sweeten Sour asked. “Spare me this talk, doctor. I live with them all for almost eighteen years and I don’t need to be a doctor to know what’s going on with her. And no, I don’t want to talk about it now.” The doctor shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do. Also, I think you should consider–” “Definitely not now,” Sweeten Sour replied, leaving the office. “So, you’re working here?” Beauty Brass asked, looking around. “I must admit, when Sweet Leaf told me about this place, I didn’t quite listen.” Lemon buttoned her hospice scrub and shrugged. “I volunteer. And actually, I only came back now. You know, to have something to do…” “I see.” Beauty Brass hugged Lemon from behind, resting her chin on Lemon’s arm. “You need something to do to forget. And a lot of hugs so you don’t fall apart…” “Oh, stop it!” Lemon exclaimed. “Did you tell your boyfriend about us?” “Kind of,” Beauty Brass replied. “He knows that I have a new friend. What he doesn’t know is that I really like my new friend…” She purred the last words into Lemon’s ear, kissing her. “It still doesn’t sit well with me.” Lemon sighed, tying her hair. “Also, seriously, stop. They keep telling us about disinfecting hands and changing clothes before we go to the patients and you’re–” “– putting my bacteria on you?” Beauty Brass asked. “Okay, I’ll stop… for now.” “It’s not funny,” Lemon said. “My mom died because of a stupid infection.” “Sorry to hear that.” Beauty Brass made a move as if she wanted to hug Lemon, but stopped herself. They walked out of the changing room and went down the corridor. Lemon greeted several patients and hospice workers on the way. “Where are we going?” Beauty Brass asked. The disposable lab coat she was wearing—one of those that were given to patients’ families—didn’t quite fit her, but she didn’t seem to mind. “To Sweet Leaf,” Lemon replied. “They put her here recently.” “And you want to see her?” Beauty Brass asked. Lemon lowered her head. “Yeah… To drive the nails deeper or something, I don’t know. Call me a masochist, whatever.” “I understand,” Beauty Brass said. “You need a closure of sorts. Am I right?” “Maybe.” Lemon shrugged. They reached Sweet Leaf’s room. Lemon’s heart skipped a beat when she saw that the door was open. One of the hospice workers walked out of the room and looked at her and Beauty Brass. “We’ve already cleaned her room,” she said. “We don’t need help.” Lemon shuddered. “D-did she–” “No, she’s fine,” the woman replied. “We got a call from the hospital. She’s going to have a visit.” “What visit?” Lemon asked. “That girl she kept visiting in the nuthouse.” The woman shrugged. “She apparently leaves the town, but wanted to see her before. The doctors think it’s going to have a positive effect on her mental state.” “Oh, I’m sure…” Lemon muttered. “Can I see her? My mental state also needs some positive feedback.” “Of course,” the woman said. “Just don’t bother her for too long. She needs peace.” When she left, Lemon groaned. She walked into the room, clenching her fists and shuddering. “Something’s wrong?” Beauty Brass asked. “That nuthouse girl… Sour Sweet?” “How do you know?” Lemon raised her head. “Girl, it was all over the news,” Beauty Brass replied. “Besides, you talk in your sleep.” Lemon froze. “What did I–” “Just enough for me to know that Sour Sweet was in your bed before me.” Beauty Brass shrugged. “I don’t know what was between you, but I don’t think it’d be wise to yell at each other just now…” She looked at Sweet Leaf. The room at the hospice was much more cozy than Sweet Leaf’s old room at the hospital. While it was better for her, it also made all the machines keeping her alive stand out much more. Her hair grew back, but mostly lose its shine. Similarly, her skin seemed almost grey and lifeless. Beauty Brass looked at the clipboard by the Sweet Leaf’s bed. “PVS, GCS – eight, E – two, V – two, M – four,” she read. “What does it mean?” “Nothing good,” Lemon Zest replied, taking Sweet Leaf’s hand. It seemed like it was just bones covered in skin and only the faint pulse indicated that she was still alive. “Yeah.” Beauty Brass nodded and looked at Sweet Leaf. “Come on, Leafy… You can score better than that.” “It is already a bit better,” Lemon said. “Her wounds healed. And sometimes, she seems like she’s trying to say something.” “If that’s better, I don’t want to think how she was when she was worse,” Beauty Brass replied. “Why is she so thin? All those thingies are there to feed her, right?” “Yes, but she doesn’t move.” Lemon shuddered, wiping her eyes. “Even though they rehabilitate her, her muscles break down. Even Indigo still has to exercise her hand and leg and she wasn’t unconscious.” “This sucks,” Beauty Brass muttered. “Is there any hope she wakes up?” She backed off slightly, looking at Lemon. “Seriously, if I ever end up like this, someone shoot me.” “Well, she may wake up,” Lemon said. “That’s why I came back to the hospice. I want to come to her, tell her stories and hope one day she hears me…” She sighed. “Guess we’ll have to go soon, though. If Sour is to come here…” “We can stay,” Beauty Brass replied. “I guess you and that Sour have a history, right? If she leaves the town soon… You want closure, right? This is your chance.” “Sweet Leaf tried to make Sour and me talk.” Lemon wiped her nose and sat by Sweet Leaf’s bed, lowering her head. “It didn’t go well. Nothing ever goes well with Sour Sweet.” Beauty Brass shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt to try. I prefer not to leave any business unfinished.” “You still didn’t tell your boyfriend about me,” Lemon replied. “Touché,” Beauty Brass said. “I can also be a hypocrite at times. And I suck at that whole relationship stuff.” “Same.” Lemon sighed, looking at Sweet Leaf. “As you can see.” Beauty Brass nodded, but before she could reply, someone knocked on the door. “Are you still there, Lemon?” “Yeah,” Lemon replied, standing up. “Is Sour there? I… I want to talk to her.” The door opened. Sour Sweet walked inside, accompanied by two nurses; both of them were rather big men, immediately making Lemon think of prison guards. Sour, on the other hand, looked mostly normal; only a hospital bracelet on her wrist indicated that she was, in fact, still a patient. “Lemon?” Sour asked. “What are you doing here?” “Working,” Lemon replied. “Remember? I used to do this with Sweet Leaf.” “Yeah.” Sour Sweet lowered her head and clenched her fists. “I have to go while you stay here together… Happy.” “Happy?” Lemon moved to the side, letting Sour see Sweet Leaf’s bed. “I don’t think that’s what she wanted,” she replied. “Or that she’d be happy without you, Sour.” Sour Sweet rushed forward, resting herself against the frame of Sweet Leaf’s bed. “Still… Why can’t I stay with her? I’m useless… I… I’m harmless... to her. I could just sit here all days, bothering no one, taking care of her like she did for me.” She looked at Lemon. “Something you never understood.” Lemon sighed. “It’d be easier if you weren’t…” “Who?” Sour muttered. The nurses looked at each other and pulled her away from the bed, despite her protests. “Say it!” she shouted. “Calm down Sour, please,” Lemon said. “I’m not taking Sweet Leaf away from you. I’m sure that if she was alright, she’d still visit you… And I remember how you took care of my when my mom died…” Sour exhaled slowly. “So… Maybe it was me. I could still be free, she could still be healthy…” She rubbed her temples. “I don’t get it. This is too much.” She turned to the nurses. “Can I say goodbye to her?” One of the nurses nodded. Sour Sweet walked to the bed and leaned over Sweet Leaf. “Goodbye,” she muttered. “I… I hope we’ll see each other soon.” She lowered her head and whispered something into Sweet Leaf’s ear before going back to the nurses. “Let’s go,” she said. “See you around, Lemon, and… I’m sorry. Really.” “No problem.” Lemon walked to Sour and hugged her. “Best of luck, Sour.” Sour Sweet raised her head and looked at Beauty Brass before turning back to Lemon. “To you too,” she whispered. Octavia ran the bow across the strings of her cello, playing the sophisticated basso continuo. Her fingers slid along the fretboard, occasionally bending the strings, producing a wailing sound. Next to her, Bulk followed the accompaniment with his violin, adding a fast-paced melody, full of trills and ornaments. The door of the empty concert hall opened abruptly, causing them to stop playing and look at it. They saw Beauty Brass rushing to them across the rows of seats like a battlecruiser plowing through the waves. “What’s up?” Bulk asked. “I’m not sure.” Beauty Brass turned around and saw Indigo sitting in one of the seats in the front row, resting her injured leg on her wheelchair. “What is she doing here?” “I’m listening,” Indigo replied. “What else can I do?” She shrugged. “Besides, Bulk and I just came back from the doctor. I’m giving birth to a highly-evolved potato.” Beauty Brass raised her eyebrows. “What?” “I’m joking,” Indigo said. “It’s a girl.” Beauty Brass looked at Bulk unsurely before turning back to Indigo. “So you’re Indigo, right? My name’s Beauty Brass.” “I was about to ask, yeah.” Indigo looked at Beauty Brass. “Frankly, from Sugarcoat’s description I expected a female version of Popeye.” “I don’t even eat spinach,” Beauty Brass replied. “How’s your leg?” “I’m gonna be pretty mad if it turns out that it got shorter than the other one,” Indigo said. “Or else I’ll break my neck trying to look into Bulk’s eyes.” “I think they can make it longer,” Bulk replied. “By breaking it again!” Indigo exclaimed. “I guess I’ll pass.” Octavia looked away from her cello and turned to Beauty Brass, who raised her eyebrows, listening to the conversation. “You seem nervous, dear. When you came here, I thought you were going to smash the door. Did something happen?” “Lemon Zest, Sweet Leaf, and someone called Sour Sweet,” Beauty Brass replied. “Sour?” Indigo asked. “They let her out of the nuthouse?” “For a moment, it seems,” Beauty Brass replied. “Just to say goodbye.” She told them how she and Lemon had met Sour Sweet in the hospice. “So, they finally got together,” Bulk said when Beauty Brass finished. “Could be worse.” “It may still get worse,” Beauty Brass said. “I may have heard what Sour Sweet whispered to Sweet Leaf before they parted.” “I hope we’ll see each other soon.” Indigo shrugged. “Sounds normal.” “Followed by ‘in this world or another’.” Beauty Brass sighed. “Sour says such things all the time,” Indigo replied. “Though frankly, I’ll be much calmer when she’s out of town. Like, if Sweet Leaf dies–” “Do all Crystal Prep girls have to be so so blunt?” Octavia asked. Bulk shrugged. “Have you ever met Sugarcoat?” “She didn’t wake up since the accident,” Indigo said. “She may die. Hell, I may die from some random blood clot or an injury the doctors missed. Anyway, I hope Sour never learns about it. For her own good.” “I’d prefer to know,” Beauty Brass said. “Yes, but you’re not Sour Sweet,” Indigo replied. “Some people have emotional baggage, right? Sour has an emotional freighter ship. Lemon has one too, but she at least can get herself together.” “She still deserves to know.” Bulk shook his head. “In the long run, uncertainty would kill her just like learning about Sweet Leaf’s death.” Indigo shrugged. “She’s used to uncertainty. Her whole life is filled with it.” She groaned, rubbing her stomach. “I’d better go home.” “Yeah, I guess Little Indy is tired of mom and dad arguing,” Bulk said. Indigo gritted her teeth. “Don’t call her Little Indy.” She put her leg on the floor and stood up, staggering. Beauty Brass rushed to grab her, but Indigo turned to her. “Don’t help me,” she muttered before sitting in the wheelchair. “You’re not going to go all the way home on your own, do you?” Beauty Brass asked. “My dad will drive me, thanks for asking.” Indigo rolled her eyes. “Why everyone treats me like a kid just because I need to use this?” She pushed the wheelchair up the ramp. Bulk put his violin down. “Indigo, wait! I’ll wait for your dad with you.” “Okay,” Indigo muttered. “Just don’t push me.” “Sure, I know.” As soon as they left the concert hall and went down the youth centre’s corridor, Bulk turned to Indigo. “Did something happen?” “I’m just kinda mad,” Indigo replied. “Mad because it seems everyone but me is either going to college or just leaving the town, mad because everyone calls me a mother even though I know I’m not gonna be one, mad because Sour’s life turned into shit, mad because I may have killed Sweet Leaf, and because I can’t walk normally. Yes, something did happen.” “I see,” Bulk said. “And of course–” “Yes, acting like a jerk is a coping mechanism,” Indigo muttered. “I didn’t mean to say that.” Bulk stood in front of the elevator entrance. “Also, the accident wasn’t your fault. You didn’t kill Sweet Leaf.” “That’s what I get for being nice,” Indigo muttered. “If I just flipped her off and drove away, she’d be fine.” Bulk shrugged. “You don’t know that.” He took a deep breath as the elevator arrived with a loud beep. “A lot of things could’ve happened to her.” “Oh, don’t try getting into some Final Destination kinda stuff just to make me feel better…” Indigo pushed the wheelchair into the elevator. “Also, if we both didn’t get distracted, I’d notice that car earlier.” “No use worrying about past now.” Bulk said. “It happened and nothing can be done about it.” Indigo pushed the elevator button way harder than necessary. “I know. But this doesn’t make it any easier.” She groaned when the elevator started to move. “I’d better stop worrying. It doesn’t seem to like it.” “It?” Bulk asked. Indigo rolled her eyes. “Little Indy. Too bad she and my leg stop me from doing most of the things that calm me down.” Bulk nodded. “Yeah… How about carpentry? I almost finished the boat.” “I wouldn’t be very useful.” Indigo shrugged. “But why not? I can always watch.” The elevator door opened. Indigo got out of it, but Bulk stayed inside. “I have to get my violin and tell Octavia that I’m going with you,” he said. “Okay,” Indigo replied. “I can wait.” Bulk nodded and closed the elevator’s door, going back to the concert hall. Indigo stayed at the lobby, rubbing her stomach. As far as she knew, it was way too early for the baby to get out; before the ultrasonography, the doctor told her she’d give birth in September. Still, once the baby started to kick, it seemed to find great pleasure in doing that. Indigo, not so much. She was still feeling pain after the accident from time to time, and the fact that she constantly felt short of breath didn’t make it any better. Indigo groaned. On one hand, she wanted to wait for Bulk in the lobby, but on the other, she felt she needed some fresh air; she also needed something to keep her mind busy, if only to stop thinking about Sour Sweet and Sweet Leaf. Panting, Indigo turned the wheelchair towards the door. Then, she grabbed the push-rims, but before she could move, she winced. Looking around for some help, she gasped and fell off the wheelchair, clutching to her stomach.