//------------------------------//
// More Bad News 
// Story: He Was Number One 
// by Acoustic Pulse 
//------------------------------//

About a year had passed since Rotten Core had delivered the news that he was recovering from his illness. Still feeling guilty about his antics, he continued to distance himself from everypony else and instead chose to enter a life of solitude. At this point in time, he was living in Appleloosa, right next door to Braeburn.

Braeburn would try to visit Rotten Core regularly and check on him to see how he was doing. It was another routine visit for him. Only then did he realize how sickly his cousin had become. He called out to him, hoping to hear an answer, "RC? Are you home?"

He heard a very weak, "It's unlocked," come from the other side. Braeburn obliged and entered the home. It was truly depressing for him to see Rotten Core hooked up on all these wires and tubes.

Braeburn wasn't entirely sure what to say, so he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, "How are you holding up there, buddy?"

"I've had better days, can't say I've had any worse than this one though," Rotten Core could barely speak above a whisper.

"I'm sorry to hear that, cuzzo, I wish I could help out somehow," Braeburn felt hopeless.

"Well, there is one thing you can do, I hope it isn't too much trouble for you," Rotten Core sighed.

"Oh, nothing's too much or too little for me to handle, RC, I can do anything," Braeburn jokingly reared up and flexed his front hooves.

This caused Rotten Core to laugh, it had been a while since he laughed. It was painful for him to do so, but he didn't mind, "I have a followup appointment, but the doctors here said I had to go to Canterlot because their technology's better."

Braeburn nodded, obliging to his cousin's request, "Oh, I'll be more than happy to take you there. Let me get my cart ready," he cantered out of the house, leaving the door wide open. The soft breeze was refreshing, so Rotten Core didn't mind. He looked out the door and into the distance, he could see dust devils kicking up and tumbleweeds bouncing gently across the ground. He never really liked the desert, but he was happy that he  could have a place to call home.

Braeburn returned with his cart, "Sorry it took so long, I had to unload all the apples off of it and put them into the barn, then I hit a rock and the wheel fell off, I had to fix it."

Rotten Core chuckled weakly, "It's only been a couple minutes, you didn't have to rush."

Braeburn shrugged, "I guess not, I was just excited because I finally have something to do around here that doesn't involve apples."

Rotten Core nodded, "I feel your pain. The whole reason I went around raising all grades of Tartarus, pulling pranks, trying to invade Applejack's orchard, was simply out of boredom. They say idle hooves are Tirek's playground, I guess I am Exhibit A of that being a factual statement. Also, I wanted a shot at a little glory. I didn't want to go down being remembered as just that one crazy cousin."

Braeburn lowered a ramp, "I don't have the proper equipment to transport you, will you be okay if I unplug these wires?"

Rotten Core thought for a moment, "I don't know, normally pulling the plug brings forth the end, but I'm still breathing on my own. I'm sure it'll be okay. Besides, they only left these here while I recovered from the chemotherapy. I feel well enough to travel, but I'm still rather sickly."

Braeburn took that as a yes, "Alright, big fella, lemme get you onto this cart," he unplugged the machines and moved the gurney and the IV drip onto the cart.

Rotten Core felt surprisingly comfortable, given the circumstances, "I appreciate you doing this for me, Braeburn, there was no way I could get there by myself in the condition I'm in."

Braeburn smiled, "Ain't no problem, cuzzo, I'm happy to help. I'm actually glad I live close by because I would've hated for you to have missed your appointment, it could be important."

Rotten Core concurred, "You're exactly right. It's still pretty early, so we should make it there on time. I don't have to be in the doctor's office until this afternoon."

Braeburn began to move, "Next stop is Canterlot General Hospital, keep all front and back hooves inside the vehicle at all times. No detours or delays, no returns, refunds, or exchanges. Yes, we do accept tips."

Rotten Core tried not to laugh because of how much it hurt him, but he couldn't help it, "Braeburn, you are a trip."

"I have my moments," Braeburn kept a steady pace, not wanting to hit any bumps and potentially hurt his sick cousin.

The ride continued in silence. Rotten Core had fallen asleep and Braeburn didn't want to disturb him. He was just hoping that he'd wake up when they got there. By midday, they had made it into Canterlot city limits. Ponies stared awkwardly as they passed by, but they said nothing as they continued on about their days. Braeburn had been to Canterlot a few times before, but he didn't really know his way around. 

He looked around to see if there was anypony he could ask for directions. A paper white stallion in a slick black suit was trotting by and Braeburn spoke to him, "Hey, uh, sir, would you happen to know where the Hospital is? I'm trying to get my cousin in there to his appointment."

The stallion looked around for a minute, sizing up where he was in town, "You'll have to hang a right here," he pointed at the intersection behind him.

"Hang a right, then what?" Braeburn repeated so the stallion knew he was listening.

"After you hang this right, it's a straight shot all the way down to the end of this stretch of road. It's the last building on the right. You can't miss it, it's gigantic," the stallion finished giving the directions.

"Alright, much obliged," Braeburn tipped his hat to the Stallion and followed his directions. Rotten Core was still asleep in the back of the cart. He made his way to the end of the street. Just as the stallion said, the Hospital was at the far end of the street. He turned into the small path that lead to the front door.

He stopped when he got there, unhooked himself from his cart, and lowered the ramp. He gently began pulling Rotten Core down the ramp. He tried not to wake him up, but the back wheels hit the ground with a thud and it startled him.

Rotten Core's eyes shot open. He looked around to assess the situation. His rapidly darting eyes finally fixed on Braeburn. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Back from the dead, I see," Braeburn greeted his cousin.

Rotten Core nodded, "Yeah, thanks again for bringing me here."

Braeburn smiled, "No problem, let's get you inside where it's cool at," he pushed the gurney into the door, stopping at the reception desk. 

The mare at the counter looked bewildered at the two, "Uh, may I help you?"

"Yeah, my cousin's just got done with chemotherapy, he's here for his followup appointment," Braeburn explained.

The mare nodded, "Alright, name please?"

"Rotten Core," Braeburn said it so that his cousin didn't have to.

She looked through the appointments for that day, "Alright, I found him. He's labeled urgent, so we'll get him into a room as quickly as possible."

Braeburn stepped back as two nurses grabbed hold of the gurney, "Don't worry, he's in good hooves," one of them reassured him.

Braeburn murmured to himself, "I sure as hay hope so."



The nurses transferred Rotten Core from the gurney to a bed, "Sit tight, the doctor will be right with you."

Rotten Core said okay and then waited. Due to his appointment being labeled urgent, the wait was very short. Within minutes, the doctor was already in the room, "Nice to see you made it. I'm Doctor Red Cross, I'll be the one running your followup." 

"Nice to meet you, Doc, I'm still in one piece," Rotten whispered.

"That's good. I'm gonna run some tests to see how the chemotherapy's been helping you. Diagnostics sheets from Appleloosa say you have pancreatic cancer, is that correct?" Doctor Cross inquired.

Rotten confirmed this, "Yes, pancreatic."

The doctor scribbled some notes, "We're gonna run an MRI to see if there have been any growths."

Rotten Core nodded, "Hoping for the best. Last time I was there, I was told that it was in remission."

Cross smiled, "Great news, I hope it is gone completely, you've been fighting really hard, I'm extremely proud of you."

Rotten Core cracked a smile as well, "Means a lot that you'd say that. I've really been trying to make it through this. There's so much I still want to do."

Cross was listening as he set up the MRI machine, "I'm hoping you can kick this thing, it's almost gone. I believe a few more rounds of chemotherapy, and you'll be home free."

Rotten Core was excited to hear that, "I really hope you're right, Doctor Cross."

The doctor looked up at his patient, "So do I. The machine's ready, I'm gonna go ahead and put you through it."

Rotten was curious about something, "How long will I be in there?"

Doctor Cross thought for a moment, "Sometimes these machines take around 10 minutes, other scans can last as long as an hour. Try and sit tight, we'll make it through this. We're in this together."

The machine was whirring and buzzing, signaling that it was ready for use. Doctor Cross started the machine. The table began to move backward, pulling Rotten Core through. It stopped in the middle and began scanning him. 



An hour had passed and the machine finally pushed him back out the other side. Doctor Cross was staring at the scan sheets in total disbelief. He excused himself from the room. Rotten Core was confused as to why he did that. He waited, hoping for the best.

Doctor Cross took a deep breath and reentered the room, "Rotten Core, I've got good news and I've got bad news."

Rotten's eyes widened with fear. He didn't really want to find out what the bad news was, "What's the good news?"

Doctor Cross smiled sympathetically, "Your pancreas is cancer-free." 

Rotten Core laughed, "If that's the good news, then I would hate to hear the bad news."

Doctor Cross was stone-faced. Rotten Core realized that the bad news was probably going to be really bad. He stayed quiet, staring at the sheet.

"Doc, what's the bad news?" Rotten was afraid to ask, but needed to know.

Red Cross looked at him, "The cancer has spread. It has begun attacking your liver. It's too much for it to handle. The cancerous cells are growing at a faster rate than the healthy cells and cirrhosis is setting in. There are growths in the bile duct as well. I don't know how long this has been going on, but it is already Stage IV and I hate to say this. I never want to tell anypony this, but it is terminal."

Rotten Core was absolutely shellshocked, "How long do I have?"

The doctor shrugged, "Chances of survival at this rate are only 2%. With the cirrhosis of your liver also setting in, it could be even less. I'd say you might have a month left, if you're lucky. I wish you had come to Canterlot to begin with, we would have immediately noticed and addressed the growths in your bile duct. I really don't know how Appleloosa missed that. I am absolutely shocked and appalled by this turn of events. I'm completely outraged. You could have and should have been saved from this fate. I'm sorry. There's nothing else I can do, Rotten Core."

Rotten Core extended his hoof, "You did the best you could. Thank you for trying."

Doctor Cross shook his hoof, "It wasn't enough. I can't even look at myself in the mirror, I'm absolutely disgusted."

Rotten Core looked at him, "Listen. None of this is your fault. It's not my fault either. It is what it is. I'm glad I came in. I'm glad that I know how long I have left. You've done more than enough. You've given me time to reflect, time to say my goodbyes, time to arrange a will. I can get all this done in a month. For that, I thank you."

Doctor Cross sank to the floor, leaning against the wall, "I had one Tirek forsaken job and I couldn't do it," he slammed his hoof into the wall.

Rotten Core breathed a heavy sigh, "My cousin's gonna take the news a lot worse than us, I can guarantee you that."

Doctor Cross looked up, "I'll let him in," he stood up and left for a brief moment. 

He came in, Braeburn following closely behind him. He cantered up to Rotten Core, "Look at you all wired up. What's the word, big fella?"

Rotten Core looked to Doctor Cross and back to Braeburn. He breathed a sigh of relief and began repeating Doctor Cross's prognosis, "Pancreas was cancer free."

Braeburn's early celebration cut him off, "Yeehaw! Let's go home, cuzzo."

Rotten Core looked at him and sighed, "There's more to it than that. The cancer spread to my liver and the bile duct in my liver. The cancer cells have caused cirrhosis to settle in and I was informed that I only have a month left to live."

Braeburn was at loss for words. He didn't know what to say. His eyes began to well up with tears, "A month?"

Rotten Core nodded, "Yeah. Long enough to atone and to say my goodbyes, that's about all I got."

"One isn't your lucky number at all," Braeburn drew this bizarre conclusion.

Rotten Core ruminated on it for a moment, "What makes you say that?"

Braeburn began to explain what he meant, "Well, one year after you were informed that your pancreatic cancer was going into remission, one stallion brought you to one city to see one doctor to run one test to tell you that you only have one month left. Isn't all that bizarre?"

Rotten Core nodded, "Yeah, it's definitely a strange coincidence. I wanted to be Number One, and I got it, just not the way I envisioned it."

END OF CHAPTER 2!