//------------------------------// // The Choice // Story: Slow Fade // by Bluegrass Brooke //------------------------------// Something could be said about Manehatten in the early dawn. The city, never having slumbered dragged itself up from its stupor and prepared for another hard day’s pull. Milo strode down the sidewalk, barely glancing at the street vendors setting up their stalls, the cabbies, polishing their carriages, or the police hooves starting their morning patrols. His whole mind, body, and nerve focused entirely on her. The one pony in all of Equestria that might spare his son from an undue fate. He forced himself into a trot before his resolve could waver. That and the trial’s last day was today. If they did not gather the evidence—he shuddered to think what might happen. Finally he slid to a stop outside the gilded palace that made up Starlight’s studio. Inside he felt as much as saw the air of arrogance all around him. Everywhere he looked were Starlight’s designs, photos of Starlight in her glory days, Starlight smiling with donors, and even one beside Storm Scribe himself. All a bitter kick to the gut for Milo. He strode past the reception pony, straight towards Starlight’s personal office. The mare tried to stop him, but he shoved her aside in his magic. “I don’t need an appointment,” he growled to her before slamming open Starlight’s door with all the subtlety she so richly deserved. “Good Celestia, what?!” Starlight lay on a chaise lounge, eyes flashing with impatience. The instant she saw Milo, her stare turned stony. “What are you doing here?” She snarled icily. “I wonder,” he drawled sarcastically. “I don’t give a damn what you want, Milo. It isn’t happening.” Starlight huffed, trying to hide something underneath her magazine pile but she wasn’t fast enough. Milo quickly levitated the newspaper out and held it in her face. “Don’t give a damn, eh?” Starlight thrust it out of his magical grasp, tossing it to the floor. “And that’s proof is it?” “Enough for me.” Milo strode forward, lowering his head to meet Starlight’s eyes. The eyes he once thought so full of love were tainted with rage, anger, and—guilt? “Leave, Milo, you aren’t welcome.” “Was I ever?” She snarled a curse under her breath. “Dammit, I don’t have time for you!” “Don’t have time?! Don’t have time?” Milo felt his voice crack under the stress, frustration, and sorrow filling his heart. “Our child is going to be convicted of a crime he didn’t commit today unless we do something now!” “Shut up!” Starlight flung the curtains closed bathing the room in half-shadow. “Do you want him to find out?” “If it saves Rory, then by Celestia I want him to find out this second.” “Be careful what you wish for, Milo,” Starlight hissed, glancing toward the covered window. “He’ll kill you.” “Not if we take him down first, Star.” Starlight flinched at the pet name. “As if we could take him down, Milo. Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve tried for years.” “We’ve got evidence.” She snorted. “‘Evidence.’ Milo Coltfax you of all stallions know that would disintegrate in court.” “Would it? Rory’s been working, Star. Working harder than I could even have hoped. He’s got it, Star. All we need is more time to put it together.” “And how should we get that? Hmmm?” “You testify,” Milo breathed, staring into Star’s eyes, pleading. Surely she of all ponies could see the need for it. “Tell them what happen—” “No!” She rocketed to her hooves so fast the table upturned. “No!” she screamed, backing away from him as if he were wielding a knife. “So you’d rather him live out a life of misery and pain to go with the years of it you gave him? If ever there was a chance for you—us to make amends it’s now, Star.” “No,” she moaned, sinking to her knees. “It would ruin me.” “It already has,” he snapped bitterly. “After what you did to our child I’d just as well see you rot in Tartarus with Storm as your only company.” He took a long, slow breath. “But that is not happening, not yet. Testify, Starlight and he’ll never bother you again.” “You know, Milo, I did think about it once.” “About what? Testifying?” She shook her head, looking into his eyes for a fleeting moment. “About taking him and running back to you. Pathetic, isn’t it?” Milo’s blood ran cold. This had not been what he had expected. “You thought about it?” He breathed. “When?” “After Storm—storm broke Rory’s leg. I told myself I’d come back to your side, told it to myself for a whole day. Then it dawned on me, Milo.” “What is that?” “That you and I were never meant to be together. Rory was never to know his real father, and Storm? Storm was always in control.” Milo gritted his teeth until his entire jaw ached. “Sorry you feel that way,” he ground out. Starlight stood then, walking slowly towards a small ring chest. With a soft click in her magic, it opened. She withdrew a silver key. “But, if you wish to test the devil, do not say I didn’t warn you.” In a swift movement, she tossed the key towards him. He caught it, staring at her dumbfounded. “Twenty-three-thirty-six east carbon street. You’ll find a storage unit there under the name Julian Citron. Open it, your precious evidence will be inside.” “It will mean nothing without . . .” Starlight glared at him for a long, hard moment before speaking, “I will be there, Milo.” “Why?” “Consider it a long belated gift to the father of my child. Besides,” her voice took on a predatory edge, “I’m looking forward to seeing the look on that bastard’s face when we catch him at his own game.” Without another word, Milo whirled around and galloped out of the building. Not enough time. Could they even hope to make it?