Twilight Sparkle, M.D.
Ponyville Hospital, Day 26, noon
“Hold still!” I cry out, practically wrestling the tiny filly into submission. It takes everything I have to keep the levitation spell up and keep the needle in the air, considering Scootaloo’s athletic prowess and energy.
Combine all that with fear and, all things considered, she’s probably the hardest thing I’ve had to deal with all week. But I guess that isn’t so bad, in the grand perspective of things.
Still, it’s awfully hard to think that way when a small child is about as likely to pin you down as you are to do the same. It’s a calculated match between the two of us, and as much as I’ve begun to grow fond of the filly, I can already tell that my patience is running thin. Her ability to dodge my needle without leaving the hospital bed was impressive the first couple of times, but now, it’s just getting annoying.
“I told ya Scoots isn’t big into shots,” Rainbow Dash yells from another corner of the room. “Last time she had to get her boosters, four ponies had to hold her down.”
I bite down a remark about how little she’s actually helping this case, at least trying to get myself into Redheart’s good graces with my bedside manner. At this point, I don’t even notice the fact that I think of doing it for her and not for Celestia. As far as I’m concerned, I may never get to go back there in the first place.
And somehow, that doesn’t scare me quite as much as it used to. I’m still working on the hows and whys for that one, though.
“One on each leg?” I ask. It’s a dumb idea to begin with, and I really shouldn’t be taking Dash’s advice, but my front legs are already mounted to the examining table, and I feel the sudden urge to push myself forward.
Dash happens to interrupt at the exact moment I start climbing up the table, and honestly, she’s lucky I didn’t slam straight into the ground then and there.
“Yeah, but I think you might want to have more doctors come in. I really don’t know if you can hold all her hooves down and shoot her with that thing.”
The magic aura around my horn flashes a little, not enough to let go of the needle altogether, but enough to let Dash know that a unicorn can probably handle this sort of tussle.
Probably.
By now, I’ve figured out that slamming myself onto the table and forcing Scootaloo into getting the hormone shot isn’t exactly the best approach, and while Featherfall might’ve had enough doctors to break up this sort of struggle, I want to do this quickly and methodically.
After going through a number of strategies, I learn that the filly has an extremely soft spot on her left wing. Not quite a discovery in the usual sense, as I accidentally touch it when I poke around her wings for a good vein, but a discovery nonetheless. Just about as soon as I touch it, her face turns into that of an extremely relaxed puppy, and it takes all I have not to remark at the utter adorableness of the situation. I’m gaining a reputation in this town, after all.
So instead of squealing at the cute face she’s making, I seize the opportunity and slowly massage that part of the wing. Just as she starts to relax, I push the needle in, and to my surprise, she barely makes a sound. After a few seconds, I wonder if she’s actually fallen asleep from all that effort.
“Make sure you watch the slides before administering the shot at home,” I tell Dash as Scootaloo starts to regain her senses. I give her a set of projector tapes, a needle, and enough of the hormones to last her a couple weeks.
“Got it. But let me just ask, if I get good enough at doing this, does that mean I can be a doctor’s assistant or something? Like, I know you have to go to school to be a nurse, but--”
“Still no,” I answer. “This shot is almost always administered outside of a doctor’s office, so even doing it on a daily basis doesn’t make you any more qualified in the medical field than a diabetic who gives themself insulin shots. No offense to them, of course.”
After Dash’s face falls a little bit, I add, “But I can help you find some jobs in the area that don’t involve injuring yourself, if you like.”
She shoots me a quick wink and a nod, but I can tell just from looking at her that she’s practically jumping for joy. I make a mental note to eke out some time for her later this week, and to find some connections in Ponyville first. I didn’t really realize it until I said it, but I don’t know much of anypony who could help Dash get hired.
In any case, I wave the two patients off with a wave and another lecture, making sure they know everything about the growth hormone before they leave.
“Never do it in her leg, that’s the most painful spot for most ponies. And please, make sure she gets acclimated to needles before she drives you crazy.”
“Can do, doc. She always puts on a brave front, but she gets scared really easy. Always been that way. But I’ll have to try that wing trick you did to calm her down.”
A sinister thought finally registers from the cynical side of my brain, and while I really shouldn’t have to tell Dash this, I’ve seen enough ponies pull this sort of trick at Canterlot National that it’s practically become a blanket disclaimer for this medicine.
“I’m pretty much required to say this,” I begin, trying to let Rainbow know I at least trust her most of the time. “But just as a reminder--don’t use it on anypony except Scootaloo. I know you’re a fast flier, and you might be tempted to use it to get a leg up on the rest of the pegasi, especially with your injury, but--”
Damn, this whole thing is so awkward. It was almost easier back in the day, when I could just tell ponies that if I caught them doping up, I’d report them to the highest authorities in the land. But, as long as my feelings for Redheart keep dancing around my head, those days are over, and it’s not just because she’s hated me for so long.
It’s also because there’s no way she’d fall in love with me the way I am now.
Thankfully, Dash laughs in my face, the most comforting ridicule I’ve ever heard, and tells me there’s no way in Tartarus she’d use them for her personal gain. I believe her, but for a slight second, I still can’t help but doubt. And then, I realize that’s why.
I don’t know what Canterlot’s done to me, or what I’ve done to myself. But somehow, even when I push myself to trust other ponies, something else comes to push them away. I’ve never doubted that part of me until now, but for the past week or so, I’ve been wondering if the fateful day will come, when I stop trusting even Redheart.
Doctor Twilight Sparkle doesn’t make mistakes.
Maybe she didn’t used to. Maybe someday, she won’t. But right now, she’s forcing herself to own up to every last mistake that went under her radar.
Somehow, I realize as they leave, feeling flawed isn’t as humiliating as I always thought it’d be.
****
Twilight Sparkle, M.D.
Ponyville Hospital, Day 26, early afternoon
On my lunch break, I finally get back to proofreading Scent-sational Perfumer Cassia. With last week’s rush, I’ve barely had any time to look at it, and plus, Redheart was always with me then. Now, she seems to have moved on, whether to other patients or to other friends, and she hasn’t seemed willing to acknowledge the final confrontation at all.
Just after she pulled that tranquilizer trick, Dr. Starlight Glimmer was apprehended by the Cloudsdale police. Neither of us has seen the town since, not even for police questioning. They took most of what they needed from us that night, and maybe they’ll take more from us later. But for now, they’ve given us time to move on, and the most I’ve heard of the situation is Dash thanking me a million times for helping shut the place down.
They’ve given us time for things to go back to normal. Or at least, the “normal” that used to be.
Rather than thinking about this mushy stuff any longer, I flip through the pages and lose myself in Fluttershy’s world. As girly and cutesy as it is, it does have its charm, and from what little I know about the genre she’s entering into, it’s pretty original. Unfortunately, I also happen to be near the end of the volume, when stubborn Rose manages to get herself captured again, even though she swears it’s part of her bigger plan. Whichever way it goes, whether it was Rose’s intention or not, it still manages to be quite the compelling plotline.
Twenty minutes before my break ends, I reach the last page and come to the instant conclusion that it’ll take the artist at least another couple months to finish the next volume.
Truly, Fluttershy is the most brutal pony in Ponyville.
“That’s it?!” I yell, not realizing I said it out loud until my coworkers start staring. “I poured my heart into this comic, and you give me a cliffhanger?!”
I swear, you could pierce the ensuing awkward silence with a knife. Unfortunately, today happens to be the one day I decide to sit in the common area with the other hospital staff, and it takes them an excruciating minute for them to go back to their work. Thankfully, nopony directly addresses me, but I get the feeling they’ll probably be laughing about it for months to come.
Gosh, when did I start caring so much about what other ponies think?
“Thanks for the heads-up on that. I was just about to swipe that volume from you, actually.”
I realize far too late that Redheart hasn’t been sitting with anypony else, and she’s taken this chance to swoop in on me. Just glancing at her, I can tell she has a glint in her eye, but for once, it’s actually a happy one that isn’t at my expense. The next thing I know, she’s sitting right next to me, trying to get a peek at the book.
“Haven’t you ever heard of reading it first?” I ask.
I’m actually surprised at the utter lack of annoyance in my voice, and the way it’s managed to replace itself with humor.
“Just seeing if it was really a twist worth yelling about,” she replies, closing the book in mimicked shame. “You’re new to this stuff, aren’t you?”
“I guess. Fluttershy basically dragged me into it, but it actually hasn’t gotten on my nerves near as much as I expected it to.”
More than anything, I want to talk to her about this week. The way she’s shielded herself off from everypony else as if even our efforts haven’t been enough. The way the old “normal” seems to be her new one. Whether or not those tears I saw after Dr. Glimmer’s speech were an illusion.
But instead, I take an effort to ease herself into it and extend my efforts at bedside manner to the real world. Besides, as much as I hate to admit it, I am a little bit curious about how such a high-strung working mare got into little fillies’ comics, anyway.
So, with the maximum amount of care, I prepare to press what is likely her biggest button possible.
“So, did something like this happen to you once? I mean, you don’t seem like the type of pony who’d like these sorts of books, so…”
Before I’m given the chance to descend into any more awkwardness, Redheart suddenly interrupts me.
“I guess I’m not, huh,” she says, her voice slowly turning solemn. “Like a lot of things, I got into magical filly stuff because of my patients. I took my residence at a pediatrician’s office in Canterlot, and a lot of the foals there were reading Skipper Sun. I thought reading it along with them would impress them, so in a way, I guess they roped me into it. I was so entrenched in my studies then that I figured it’d be a relief, too, so somehow, I kept picking up more series. Apparently, this isn’t strange for ponies in my field. I mean, there’s got to be a reason for all these nurse-themed magical fillies, right?”
Her air of seriousness fades, if only for a moment, and she suddenly points to the comic I’ve been reading.
“You know Fluttershy’s premiering it at CanterCon next week? Normally, manga artists don’t get that chance this early in their careers, but she’s going to have a huge booth and everything. If we can find time in our schedules, maybe we should go support her.”
Alarm bells suddenly ring all around my ears. Whatever could’ve happened to Redheart in the past week, there is no feasible way she’s asking what I think she’s asking. Going out of town, alone, for some huge event? Like she actually tolerates me somehow? Nothing’s adding up at all, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s in her right mind.
You’re such an idiot, I want to say, for thinking I won’t see past this.
“By me, you mean ‘you,’ right?” I ask instead. “Because last time I checked, you’d never want to be alone with me in a million years.”
That last sentence escapes my mind, just like every other barbed remark I’ve ever uttered, and I prepare myself for the aftermath. For Redheart to tell me that I haven’t changed at all and that every bit of alliance we once had was over.
Instead, she simply lets out an adorable chuckle.
“We’re the editing team, remember? It’s our responsibility to show up for her. And plus, I wouldn’t mind checking out the vendor booths while I’m there.”
With a tiny blush, she adds, “I’d like to get a Healer Midnight plush to brighten up the room for the kids, but she’s one of the most popular ones, so I can never find anything for her.”
I’ve never been the most expressive pony in the world, but somehow, I swear she can see my disappointment. Up until a week ago, I wasn’t really expecting anything more from the two of us, and yet somehow, that ‘editing team’ remark stings me right in the back now.
“Of course,” she points out, “that doesn’t mean I don’t want to get to know you better, too. I know I was pretty distant with you before, but now that I know the hospital wants us to work together, I’m going to do my best to match your pace. We can call each other friends now, but I still won’t lose to you, got that?”
I nod before going into a flurry of questions. As usual, I’ve been kept in the dark about most of the inner workings of this place, and even though I had a hunch they’d keep Redheart on board, I hadn’t actually heard any confirmation yet.
As it turns out, she’s received her forgiveness, and even now, she’s doing everything she can to keep her rating high. The rest of the conversation flies by, to the point where I can barely tell when the clock rings for us to go back. But the topics remain with me throughout the day.
Thanking me for saving Scootaloo and showing a delicacy beyond what she’d usually seen of me. For saving her, as well. But somehow, the one topic that never comes up is the one that stays with me the longest, and before she goes back to her post, I find myself asking her one last question.
“What Doctor Glimmer said last week, about you just being here because of your family. It seems like that really got to you, and if it did, I want to talk to you about it. I realize I might not be the best pony to talk to, and I know I probably won’t be able to comfort you that much, but what I want to say is that, even if I can’t explain it, you’re meant to be here, Doctor Redheart, and--”
For a slight moment, I can see her eyes dilate in shock, almost as if she hadn’t expected anypony to care about her so much. But she puts her mask back on as we leave, and gives me her trademark smile.
“I’m fine for now,” she tells me, “but if we could meet up here tomorrow and talk about it, that’d be great. I’ve kind of been afraid to tell anypony else at work about it honestly, but you’ve seen me at my worst for so long, it’s barely humiliating to me. But if we do that, I’m going to tell me that it’s going to be the last time you’ll see me so vulnerable, Twilight. From tomorrow on, I’m not going to doubt my life anymore.”
Just when I swear I’m hearing things, she sees into my emotions yet again and cuts me with her icy blue gaze. Just like my first day here, except with far more feelings filling us than either of us could have expected.
“By the way, next time you talk to me...you can call me Scarlet.”