Pinkie awoke with a gasp, body covered in sweat. No matter how rapidly she blinked, she couldn’t get the afterimage of those violet eyes out of her vision. Slowly sitting up, she took in her room. The faintest hint of sunlight could be seen through the window curtains, but otherwise everything was dark. Her heart pattered around inside her chest as her gaze lingered over the far corner of the room and its impenetrable shadow. Gradually, her breathing eased and her legs unfolded from her chest. She didn’t even have it in her to cry this time.
“Please,” she whispered into the dark. “J-just for one day, leave me alone. I’m sorry. I-I just need today. Okay?”
Yes, she needed today. It was Saturday. The party. She had to do it right. She needed to be the old Pinkie Pie today. Never mind how tired she was. Never mind how frightened. This was how she’d show them. All of them. Sunflower, Scilly, PS, Cotton. Fine Crime. They’d see that she was okay, that she could be the Pinkie they all knew and wanted. None of them would have to worry about her anymore. Because she was fine.
Are you? Are you really, Pinkie?
She shivered, eyes darting about the shadows. She was fine.
Crawling out of bed required a bit of concentration. Her knees were all wobbly and disobedient, and it had nothing to do with Pinkie Sense. Her body ached in so many places, her joints begging with all they were worth to go back to bed. Pinkie refused. Today was not a day to sleep in. She had to get everything ready. She had to make today work. She couldn’t be Pinkamena, she had to be Pinkie.
She stumbled her way to the bathroom and started the water. Soon she was being pounded into awareness by a pleasant shower. It was the old style, the kind made from pegasus clouds rather than pipes. Not as hot, but it had plenty of pressure. She needed that. It was like getting a massage, and she let out a quiet moan as her muscles quieted their complaining. Not entirely, but enough to not make the bed seem so tantalizing. She idly wondered what it would be like to have Fine Crime in the small space with her.
The idea, pleasant as it was, didn’t last for very long. She was too tired even for that luxurious concept to stay firmly in place. Well, at least she knew ponies would take the lack of focus as her ‘just being Pinkie Pie’. That worked in her favor, didn’t it?
Suddenly, the shower didn’t feel so nice. Heaving a sigh, she turned off the water and began to dry off. Upon approaching the sink, she found the mirror coated in fog. With the tip of her hoof, she drew a smiley face on the glass. “Smile, smile, smile.” She tried. It was almost painful. She had her work cut out for her this morning.
“You can do it, Pinkie,” she muttered before trying again with similar results. “Come on, just… smile. Let the world know you’re okay.”
A few more tries, a few more fails. Sighing, she took a rag and wiped away the fog completely so she could—
Somepony was in the bathroom with her. A grey-coated mare. Violet eyes. Staring. Pinkie whipped around, a cry caught in her throat.
Nothing. She was alone.
Blood pounding in her ears, she fell to the floor, curling up in a ball and rocking back and forth. “I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” One day. All she wanted was one day! Was that too much to ask? She’d suffer the nightmares for the rest of her days and accept being haunted if she could just get this one day! “P-please, leave me alone…”
There was no way to know how long she lay there, sobbing and rocking and trying to pull herself back together. When she finally wiped her eyes of the last of her tears and stood on unsteady legs, the sun streamed in through the window and the bathroom had lost its excessive humidity. She could only count herself fortunate that Fine hadn’t come in to see that little… episode.
She spent the next hour fighting with her face in the mirror. By the end of it she had a somewhat convincing smile. Fine might see past it. He was observant like that. But maybe not. And even if he did, everypony else in Rockstead would certainly fall for it. “Okay, Pinkie Pie.” Yes. Yes, she was going to be Pinkie Pie. “Let’s do this.” She turned around, took one step—
The ground flew up to meet her. Sucking in a sharp breath, she managed to catch herself before her muzzle could kiss the floorboards. She stood perfectly still, forelegs splayed and hind legs shaking. How had she…?
Closing her eyes and ignoring her body’s complaints, she stood straight once more. “Keep it together, Pinkie,” she muttered, only to wince at the weariness in her own voice. A few little slaps to her cheeks with both forehooves stung her back into clarity, and her smile came back with only a token resistance. “Just gotta get through today. There’s no such thing as too tired to party.” With a firm nod, she trotted for the door, paying no mind to the Rainbow Dash and Rarity on her mental highway watching her putter past with concerned looks.
She ran through a mental checklist, graciously hoofed over by a passing Twilight Sparkle. “Oh, thanks, Twilight. I—” She paused, staring at the empty space to her left and the closed door behind it. Frowning, she tapped herself on the head a couple times. “Stay in there, you guys.” The mini-Twilight exiting off the highway in her steam-powered cart had the good sense to look sheepishly guilty.
“Right. So.” She looked at the list in her hoof, having to blink a couple times for it to clear up. Breakfast first with Fine. Duh. Then check on party supplies… finalize food arrangements with Mr. Collate… help Sunflower get her stage ready… procure fireworks (“It’s going to happen, by fudge!”)… lunch… decorate… help in the kitchen… Pinkie Pie nodded to herself, tucking the list away in her mane. “Nothing unusual for a Party Pony like me.”
She paused at the stairs, taking a moment to test her legs to make sure they wouldn’t disobey her again. She hadn’t seen Fine, but something told her he was already downstairs. She had to do this right from the start. She was Pinkie Pie, and today she was hosting a party. There were expectations, and Celestia as her witness, she’d meet them! Slapping on the best grin she could afford under the circumstances, she went down the steps at a trot. Miraculously, she didn’t trip.
“Go~od morning, everypony,” she singsonged once on the ground floor. Of course, only Fine was present, sitting at their usual table and writing in his story journal, but it was the image that was important. She bounced her way to him, giving him a hug from the side that almost knocked him out of his seat. “How’s my favorite pony doing today?”
“Nice to see you up and about, sleepyhead.” He chuckled and gave her a returning nuzzle. The motion sent waves of chilly pleasure up and down her whole body for so many reasons. He didn’t even stiffen up at first contact like he usually did! “I was just thinking about heading up there to wake you. Don’t you have a busy day planned?”
“Yupperooni!” After one last loving nuzzle, she bounced back to land in her seat. A little off-center, but Fine didn’t seem to notice. “I hope Petri’s got some grub ready, because I need to get started sooner rather than later.”
“As a matter of fact…” A tiny red spark popped at the tip of his horn with the sound of broken glass. A couple seconds later, the Rock Bottom Inn’s proprietor stepped out of the kitchen with a serving tray in one hoof.
“Wow, that was amazing timing! How’d you know I’d be up now and cook the food just right to make sure it would be out at the same time?” She could have strung that for much longer, but she just wasn’t feeling it. Thankfully neither Petri or Fine seemed to notice how quickly she’d brought it to a close.
The two stallions shared a glance that almost certainly contained an entire conversation before Petri answered, “Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy!” He set a steaming bowl of soup before each of them.
Deciding it would probably work against her to pursue the topic, she instead snatched her spoon with an “Okay!” and started on breakfast. “Oh, sweet! Pear soup? I bet Fine asked for it.” She leaned towards Petri with a hoof over her lips as if to hide what she was saying and stage whispered, “Don’t tell our friend Applejack, but he really likes pears.”
Fine rolled his eyes, swallowed his first spoonful, and casually replied, “AJ knows, Pinkie. Or did you forget I pay Big Mac to come by my place once a month with supplies?”
“And he allows pears in his apple cart?” She gasped, reared up and set both forehooves on the table to stare wide-eyed at him. “What did you do? Is Big Mac brainwashed? Did you use some super-secret artifact to make him forget about the historical Apple-Pear rivalry?”
That one got a chuckle out of the stallion. “Do you really think I’d brainwash anypony, Pinkie?”
She raised an eyebrow in mock suspicion. “Who knows what goes through that head of yours?”
He answered with a raised eyebrow of his own. “I can end all debate on the matter with a single name.”
“Yeah? Name it!”
“Silma Ril.”
It was like being bucked in the gut. Pinkie’s scars burned as fresh memories loomed to the forefront of her thoughts. Flinching, she settled back onto her cushion. Her forelegs suddenly felt so weak, even lifting her spoon was a challenge. She tried not think of what she’d almost done under that witch’s control…
“Pinkie?”
She sat up straight, banging her knee on the table as she did. Flinching, she dropped the spoon and massaged her forming bruise, but didn’t take her eyes off Fine. Mr. Collate had disappeared somehow.
Concern seeped out of Fine’s gaze as he stared at her with ears folded back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Are you alright?”
No. “S-sure, I’m okay.” She smiled for him, though he probably knew it was forced. At least this time she had an excuse to dodge from her other, more immediate issues. “I just couldn’t help thinking about what she almost made me do.” At his pained expression she reinforced her smile. “B-but it’s okay! It’s not your fault. It’ll pass.” He looked as though he wanted to argue, but after a moment of consideration he nodded and went back to his soup. Relaxing with a sigh, Pinkie followed his example and ate. She should probably be grateful; she had an excuse to not smile and relax her cheeks. Why did smiles start to hurt after a while when you weren’t in the mood for them?
The meal ended all too quickly, and she was forced to wear her smile once more. Hopping out of her chair, she declared in her best cheery tone, “Alright, it’s time to work! I, Pinkie Pie, declare the party preparations to have officially begun.”
Fine Crime, still only halfway through his meal, smiled at what he probably saw as enthusiasm. She hoped so, anyway. “Are you sure you don’t want my help?”
“Nope!” She shook her head firmly, mane whipping about her at the frantic motions. When she stopped the world had tilted slightly, but she planted her hooves and grinned through the vertigo. “Party planning’s my job. No offense, but I don’t think you’ve got the party gene.” To that he chuckled, and she let the warmth of the sound fill her up and give her an extra dose of energy. She promptly used it to start bouncing in place. “Besides, this one’s gonna be big and long and you’ll probably want to spend all day charging up your cranky Mister Loner batteries so that you can take it all without spraining a sprocket in that striking skull of yours.”
He blinked a few times, expression blank. “I’m not sure what definition of ‘striking’ you’re after there.”
In a burst of inspiration, she moved in to press her forehead to his, his horn a comfortable weight on top, and whispered a husky, “What do you think I meant?” She gave him just a second to meet her heavy-lidded eyes, then retreated to grin at him. The daring little act, far more than she’d ever tried before, had her cheeks burning, but her smile was easily the most genuine of the morning so far.
For his part, Fine appeared to have become a statue. He stared at her with wide eyes and a slightly opened mouth. His levitating spoon gradually turned in the air, splashing its contents on the table beside him. He didn’t seem to notice, and his face had gained all the color qualities of a stop sign.
With a giddy giggle, she blew him a kiss and bounced for the door. “See you later, handsome!”
Oh, wow, I can’t believe I did that but it felt amazing and Fine’s reaction was just perfect I never thought I could do the seductive pony thing like I’ve seen Rarity do once or twice but oh Celestia did it feel good and I wanna go back and do it again but is that moving too fast I mean when is a mare supposed to get all flirty and frisky with her stallion is there a timetable or something I bet Twilight would know she probably did all kinds of studies in romance because she’s the most studyrific pony ever and probably decided to do it in a fit of boredom and certainly not at all from loneliness because really Twilight’s a great and pretty mare and why doesn’t she have a date maybe I should ask Rarity about that and we can set up an intervention but that’s not near as important as I just flirted with Fine and it was so much fun and I feel so brave and maybe I can wear the dress at the party tonight and… and…
The energy puttered out as Pinkie’s thoughts focused on the dress still hidden under her bed at the inn. The dress that was meant to be romantic. She couldn’t possibly hope to unveil it at the party. It wasn’t that kind of party. And besides, now that the momentary high of her random act of flirtatiousness had passed, she could just feel the crash in her party pony bones. Trying to move around in the dress Rarity made and be fetching for Fine when she would be lucky if she could go through the entire day without tripping on her own hooves? Not going to happen.
“But then again, when will it happen?”
She slapped a hoof over her mouth, only to silently curse when the motion caught the attention of a few early risers. She was supposed to be all cheerful and happy and bouncy. This was a party day! Ponies shouldn’t see her moping on a party day! She slapped on another grin as fast as physics would permit (stupid physics, always getting in the way) and increased her pace to a trot. She began humming a random, jaunty tune and started waving and greeting ponies as she passed them by on the way to the store to collect her order.
If she worked her smile hard enough, perhaps nopony would notice how she kept having to stop her hooves from dragging every other step.
“Pinkie?”
Pinkie jolted as if shocked, frantically looking about her. She found nothing save Sunflower watching her with a concerned frown. Had she zoned out? Oh, no, she couldn’t zone out, she was supposed to be perfectly peppy Pinkie!
Picking her smile up off the floor and putting it back on her face, she said, “What’s up?”
Sunflower, standing atop her half-constructed stage with a few wooden poles hovering behind her in her aura, gestured to Pinkie. “Are you alright?”
Don’t panic, Pinkie! “I’m fine! Well, maybe not Fine, I don’t think I wanna be a stallion, but the other fine the fine that a mare can be too that fine y’know?” Smooth save. She gave herself a mental pat on the back.
The magician raised an eyebrow, her expression deadpan. “You’ve misplaced that panel three times in a row now.”
Pinkie blinked at the wide, rectangular piece of wood that was supposed to make up part of the front of the stage. Sure enough, she’d slid it into place at a ninety-degree angle from how it was meant to be. With a blush, she scratched her head and grinned at Pinkie. “Uh, oopsie? It’s just, uh, so hard?”
Sunflower pointed behind Pinkie. “And you got the banner wrong.”
Ears low, Pinkie slowly turned around to look at her hoof-made banner. Sure enough, the name Sunflower was instead ‘Sunflour’. Her heart sank, and she briefly wondered if she couldn’t hide under the stage. But no, she could play this out… somehow. She couldn’t let anypony know she was struggling. Forcing a grin to her face, she managed to squeeze a giggle out of her throat. “Y-you mean you’re not named after a bright and shiny baking ingredient? Huh. The things you learn, amiright?”
She turned around again to find Sunflower’s deadpan stare replaced with a narrow-eyed glower. Rubbing her foreleg, Pinkie broadened her grin. “And here I was wondering what sunflour really was.”
Sunflower leaned a little closer.
“I-I mean, maybe it’s used to make glowy bread?”
And a little closer.
Pinkie shrank back, smile firmly in place and starting to ache. “So you can, um, eat it in the dark?”
Sunflower’s voice was commanding. “Pinkie Pie…”
It was no use; Pinkie’s defenses shattered beneath the weight of that voice and those hard eyes. She dropped to her haunches and raised her forehooves as if to ward off a blow. “I’m okay, I really am! I’m just a little tired, that’s all. I promise, I’ll do better from now on. Please don’t tell Fine, he’ll worry and fret and think something’s wrong.”
Thankfully, Sunflower stopped looming over her to stand up straight, though she did maintain a skeptical look. “Is there something wrong?”
“Nope! Not a thing. Pinkie Pie is ready for duty, and I give my solemn promise that this party will be… Stop looking at me like that.” She wished her voice hadn’t sounded so weak just then, but it was too late to do anything about it. She looked away from the magician’s critical gaze, scuffing the floor and checking to make sure Fine wasn’t in the Inn. He wasn’t, thank Celestia. “There’s nothing wrong.”
She heard the quiet clop of hooves as Sunflower hopped off the half-built stage and approached. “Pinkie, please don’t lie to me. You’ve been acting odd all day.”
“‘Odd’ is normal for me,” Pinkie defended half-heartedly.
“Not like this it’s not.” Settling before her, Sunflower tilted her head sideways in an attempt to look Pinkie in the eye. Pinkie avoided it. “Pinkie, please. I promise not to tell Fine, but you can’t keep whatever this is bottled up.”
How fortunate it was that Pinkie could tell some of the truth. She offered a weary smile, though she still couldn’t look the mare in the eye. “Honest, Sunny. I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well at all since I got here.”
Sunflower’s frown returned, though it seemed to be more muddled than annoyed. “You don’t really look tired, though.”
To that Pinkie was able to make her smile legitimate. “Thanks. It’s good to know I’m hiding it well. But… um, you really promise not to tell Fine anything?” At Sunflower’s nod, Pinkie closed her eyes and allowed just a smidgeon of the truth to come out. She could feel the physical changes; the slight straightening of her mane, a tiny sag in her shoulders, the loss of the youthful smile. The hardest part, the biggest giveaway and that which required the most work to conceal, was the bags under her eyes. She only let them go a tiny fraction, but even that she dreaded having to fight back into place.
She heard Sunflower hiss, and opened her eyes with a new, weaker smile. “See? Pretty tired.”
Sunflower’s eyes were practically popping out of their sockets. “How do you do that? If every mare in Equestria had that skill, we’d all be young forever.”
Covering a yawn with a hoof, Pinkie shrugged. “You told me not to lie, right? Well, I’d be lying if I said I understood it. I just… do things.” She heaved a sigh and bowed her head. “I’ll have to head upstairs and work on covering it again. It’s easier to let it out than it is to hide.”
After a moment’s consideration, Sunflower asked, “Are you sure you want to do the party? I mean, if you’re that tired…”
Pinkie’s slow head shake ended the suggestion. She sat up straight and brought out another one of her spare smiles. “Pinkie Pie never flinches when it comes to parties, and she’s not gonna start now. I can do this! I, uh…” She fidgeted and glanced away, mentally grimacing upon realizing her smile had already lost its luster. “I might just need a little more help than usual, that’s all.”
“What you need is to take a nap. I can—”
“No.” Pinkie flinched upon seeing Sunflower’s startled gaze. Why’d she have to react so forcefully? “I m-mean, no. Thanks, but no. I’m a party pony. I have to do this.”
Disapproval clear in her frown, Sunflower replied, “Even party ponies need sleep.”
But they didn’t need nightmares. Standing tall once more, Pinkie put on her ‘serious business’ face and stomped. “Not on a party day, they don’t!” Then, softening her tone, she said, “Thanks for worrying, Sunny. Really. I appreciate it. But I need to do this, okay?” Seeing the hesitation and concern in her friend’s face, she added a “Please?” that sounded a little too much like begging to her ears. But it was out there, and she couldn’t take it back.
Sunflower closed her eyes, lips pressed in a thin line. After a few seconds of what appeared to be meditation, she opened them again. Her stare was a little softer this time. “You really think you can get through today alright?”
Pinkie nodded with all the seriousness the query demanded. “If ever I feel like I can’t, I’ll stop.”
Though she didn’t appear satisfied at all by that response, Sunflower returned the nod. “Alright. But I’m holding you to that. Don’t make me get Fine to put you to bed.”
Pinkie’s face got so hot she thought it might catch flame, and that only intensified when Sunflower gained a wicked smirk. She did that on purpose! “Y-you’re mean,” Pinkie whispered half-seriously, fighting not to smile at the naughty thoughts that were hijacking her mental highway.
“That was easier than I thought it’d be.” Sunflower turned away, flicking her tail with a nicker. “Why don’t you head upstairs and do that thing you do with the face, and cool down while you’re at it?”
Pinkie was up the stairs before she finished her sentence.
The day passed in a blur, not least because Pinkie kept slipping into dazes on account of her weariness. Luckily the damage had only been minor so far, though she felt profoundly guilty for accidentally wasting a batch of cupcakes by putting confetti in them instead of sprinkles. They just looked so colorful and her vision had gone blurry for just a moment! How’d she even get confetti in the kitchen, anyway? She knew better than that. Surely being a little – or a lot – sleepy wasn’t making her neglect basic culinary hygiene?
There was no more time for mixups. The sun was going down and guests were already streaming into the party, which consisted of the dining area of the Rock Bottom Inn and the street just outside. A local band played outdoors, happily volunteering their services without her even having to ask, and Sunflower was already hard at work mesmerizing the ponies inside.
And yes, there’d been fireworks. Outside, of course, but close enough.
Well and truly in her element, Pinkie marched among the crowd, greeting newcomers and pointing them all to whatever her party pony instincts said was the most likely thing to provide them with the most entertainment for the night. She had everything; games, music, a magic show, food, and balloons and decorations galore (kudos to the supply store for getting that order in on time). She even had a designated Quiet Space around the corner, a necessity she picked up from having Fluttershy and Fine as guests in past events. It was, for all intents and purposes, the perfect party, and she was determined to keep it that way!
It was fortunate, then, that she was able to mask her occasional stumble or trip to the excitement and clumsiness. Her cheeks ached from all the smiling she was doing, her legs would sometimes wobble at inopportune times, and more than once she would slip into the kitchen or even the Quiet Space to catch her breath. Petri and his hired help were far too busy keeping the food and drinks flowing to take notice and the Quiet Space went unused so far, so there was no threat of being caught. Yet. Fine would go there before too long, she knew. Then she might have to really flex her improvisation skills.
But until then, she was the perfect host.
“Scilly, PS, Cotton!” She bounced on protesting knees to her friends as they reached the edge of the crowd, engulfing all three of the ponies in a single massive hug. “You made it! I’m sooooo happy to see you guys.”
Scilly chuckled from within the breath-stealing squeeze. “Yep, that’s our Pinkie Pie, alright.”
At last being dropped to his hooves, PS cast his grin around the party. “Wow. It looks like half of Rockstead’s here.” He turned about and gestured to a young, cinnamon-red mare with orange dreadlocks and an excited colt dancing around her hooves. “Pinkie Pie, meet my wife, Red Velvet, and son Hot Marble.”
Pinkie wasted no time assaulting the pair with a bone-crushing hug, her excitement at meeting PS’s family enough to make her forget any weariness, at least for the moment. “Oh, oh, it is so good to meet you ponies!”
Velvet, her dreadlocks akimbo, settled on her haunches after the unexpected attack, her eyes swirling about in her head. “Uh… p-pleased to meet you?”
Hot Marble, on the other hoof, just laughed and kept pronking. “This party looks amazing! So many ponies all at once. Are any of my friends here? I bet some of my friends are here. I’m gonna go look for my friends!”
Before he could get away, Pinkie caught him with a lone hoof on his back. “Apple Split, Leap Frog, and Serendipity?” With her free hoof she pointed to the door. “Check inside! They’re waiting on you to start a game of charades.”
She released the colt, who scrambled away with a joyful cry of “Thanks, lady!”
Red Velvet watched him go in a mild stupor before asking, “How did she—”
“—know who his friends were?” Pinkie blew a raspberry and giggled. “Silly willy, I’m Pinkie Pie, and I don’t go anywhere without meeting everypony. I’m sorry I haven’t had time to meet the ponies living outside of town yet, or I’d have known you too. But now I do and that makes us friends.”
PS patted his still-reeling wife on the back with a grin. “Now you see what I had to deal with when she was still around. We should probably head inside too and keep an eye on him.”
Pinkie shook her head, her smile growing warm. “Actually, Fine’s keeping an eye on the foals, so it’ll be A-okay. You two should just enjoy the party.”
Scilla frowned at this. “Your coltfriend’s watching the kids when he could be enjoying this shindig you’ve set up? Shouldn’t he be enjoying the party with you?”
To this Cotton shrugged. “I don’t think this scene is Fine’s idea of a good time.” She was sticking close to Pinkie, PS, and Scilla, and kept casting wary looks at the ponies moving all around them. Her ears were folded back against the noise. “I, uh, might be tempted to join him.”
Pinkie nodded enthusiastically. “Fine’s not much for big parties. I think that makes him a madpony, but that’s okay, he’s my kind of madpony.” Seeing the concern on Red Velvet’s face, she added, “And he’s really good with foals. Trust me on this one, Celestia herself couldn’t hurt those foals when he’s watching them. Not that Celestia’s ever wanted to hurt a foal, but you get the idea, because… because…” The world teetered, and her along with it. For a moment the music and chatter and noise mashed into a chaotic frenzy of nonsense – which she imagined was how it sounded to non-party ponies in the first place. It was new for her, though, and she didn’t like it one bit. Maybe now she could understand why Fine didn’t care for parties as much as she did. She closed her eyes and shook her head forcefully. When she opened them again the world had stopped acting drunk, but her friends were staring at her with a variety of confused expressions.
Cotton was the first to speak. “Uh, what was—?”
“So, yeah, foals are fine with Fine, and that’s just fine!” Hoping the dim lights outside would mask her blush, Pinkie giggled through her near-panic and waved at Red Velvet and PS. “Have fun tonight, you two. Don’t worry, Hot Marble will be safe under Sunflower’s and Fine’s guard.”
The couple shared a glance, Red Velvet’s worried and PJ’s encouraging. After what appeared to be a silent conversation, they both smiled and started for the dance area, PJ calling a ”thank you” over the music and chattering.
“But Pinkie,” Scilla started, “what about—?”
Rounding on the mare with hooves to hips, Pinkie asked, “And where’s your hubby, hmm? I thought I was gonna meet him and the little cupcakes tonight. I demand new friends!”
Scilla smiled at Pinkie’s forceful nature, just as predicted. “Well, sorry to disappoint! The Two Qs are far too young for something like this, and Backstage insisted I come while he watches them. I won’t be here long, I feel guilty enough leaving him there as it is.”
“Aww.” Pinkie dropped back to four hooves, barely managing to avoid a stumble with her landing. “I was really hoping to meet Queue and Cue, too.” Then she put on her best smile from the Smile Pile. “I guess that means I have an excuse to visit your place next week, haven’t I? You can’t hide those bundles of joy from me forever.”
“Nor would I try.” Scilla’s smile faded as she took Pinkie in once more. “Is everything—?”
“But what you should try is the food here!” Pinkie was at Scilla’s back and pushing her towards the snack tables. “Petri and I worked all day to make only the best of the best party food. You should make sure to grab a few slices of cake and other goodies to bring back. If Backstage can’t come to the party, bring the party to him I say!”
Scilla looked back as if to argue, her expression a mixture of concern and… pain. The look seared Pinkie’s soul, but she refused to put away her smile now. She had to get through tonight, and that meant not letting them slow her down. A wave of relief washed over her when the dark-coated mare at last accepted the suggestion and walked off, but that was was promptly followed by guilt. No time to dwell on that, though. She still had…
An orange hoof tapped her on the forehead enough to make her tilt back a little. It was enough to disorient her and send the world reeling once more. Pinkie locked her hind legs and waved her forelegs in an effort to get her balance back on track, and barely avoided a fall. Shaking her head to clear it, she blinked at a deadpan Cotton. “What was that for?”
Cotton merely sighed. “Look, just promise you’ll get some rest after tonight?”
Oh no oh no she knows! Pinkie kicked down the panic and grinned. “I-I have no idea what you mean.” One look at the growing frown on Cotton’s face made it clear she wasn’t buying the claim. Quick, Pinkie, distraction! B-but what can I distract her with? She’s not as easy as the other two were.
“You know we’re your friends, right?”
Pinkie flinched, and immediately regretted it. Staring into Cotton’s hard eyes, she scrambled to hold her defenses in place. She couldn’t break now, it was way too early! But… Cotton didn’t look happy. She might even be a little angry. Pinkie’s tremulous grasp on her wits shivered under that disappointed stare.
Time to take a risk. “I know. I know you’re my friends, Corduroy.” She stepped forward and wrapped Cotton in a soft hug. “And I’m sorry. But let me have this one night, okay? I n-need this.” Oh, why’d she let that stammer slip in?
Cotton’s voice was hard as rocks. “Do you? Are you sure?” At the nod against her shoulder, she returned the hug. Her words were softer now, but not without a hint of an edge. “Alright, Pinkie. I’ll play along. Just promise you’ll focus on getting better after this.”
With a smile, genuine this time, Pinkie stepped back and went through the usual motions. “It’s a Pinkie Promise.” Noting Cotton’s cocked head, she giggled. “I’ll explain later, you silly filly. But right now there’s a party going on and I’ve got to get back to hosting it! Have fun and don’t worry about me.”
“I’ll do my best.” Cotton smiled back, though it was a weak display, then made her way to the door of the inn. Pinkie waved her off, gave herself a second to build up her enthusiastic smile, and got to work.
Ponies often remarked on the amount of energy she always put on display. Some called her a marvel in that regard. Twilight had even wanted to study her to try and understand where that seemingly boundless enthusiasm came from. What only her closest friends knew (including Twilight after the ill-advised study) was that her reserves were not, in fact, infinite, and she’d been running low even before this party started. But Pinkie was determined to be the best party pony Rockstead had ever known, and she wasn’t going to let any nightmare-induced weariness get the better of her now.
And she was doing a spectacular job, all things considered. She swayed through the crowds like a fish in the ocean, greeting ponies and making sure every single one was enjoying the event to the fullest. Whether that involved refilling drinks, starting up a game, dancing to the music, or even just providing a grin at the right place at the right time. Everypony present could see she was in her element, and not a one would guess that every step risked a wobble, the careening near-falls in her dance weren’t planned, and every smile was barely managing to mask how weary she really was. She even got to spend a little time with Fine Crime, who had retreated with Cotton to the Quiet Space just as predicted. To her immense pleasure, they and the few other ponies in need of it (and there were a surprisingly large number compared to Ponyville) had nothing to complain about, a source of great personal pride for her.
As the night wore on, Pinkie felt a sort of numbness come over her. It was an odd feeling, undoubtedly the result of too much activity with not enough energy, but once it hit she stopped fretting about it. It was like a sign, an indication that, yes, she could get through this. She really could! She’d crash tonight, and maybe even sleep right past the nightmares, and that only encouraged her even more. It was well into the evening and, as she knew from a lifetime of parties, nearing time for the first guests to start heading home.
Which meant she needed to do the last part. Pinkie hopped up onto Sunflower’s stage at the end of her last trick and waved to all the cheering ponies. “Hey, all you Rocksteadians! Has this been a fun party or what?” She reveled in the applause and even returned Sunflower’s flamboyant bow, and to Tartarus with what her legs had to say about it. “You’ve all been a wonderful crowd and we’re all thrilled to have you. Everypony stomp for our special guest, the Bright and Glorious Sunflower!” She shot a wink at the magician, who blushed at the improvised stage title.
When the noise died down, Pinkie continued. “And of course, none of this would have been possible without the help of Petri Collate and the staff of the Rock Bottom Inn. Come on, ponies, make the floorboards shake!” And they did, with gusto.
And so it continued as Pinkie went through announcing the groups responsible for putting the party together. In truth she did the majority of the work, but she had to get her supplies from somewhere. There were also legal issues for a shindig this big – namely permissions – that had to be acquired, which not many non-party ponies ever considered. In Ponyville this step largely wasn’t necessary anymore, because everypony there knew who Pinkie’s suppliers were. But this was Rockstead, and it was only appropriate for her to endorse those businesses. Rarity said this made Pinkie ‘surprisingly business-savvy’, but to Pinkie it was simply good manners. With the last of that done, she started to conclude her little speech. “The party’s not over yet, folks, but since I’ve got the limelight, let me say a special thanks to… to…”
Her eyes had been shifting across the happy crowd when she spotted her. No, not her, but Her. Gray in color, long mane covering her face. She was in the back of the crowd near the door, unnoticed by everyone save Pinkie. Her eyes couldn’t be seen, but that didn’t matter. Pinkie knew.
She was staring.
Pinkie’ legs wobbled. She swallowed to moisten her throat, to no avail. “I… I’m sorry, I just…” She had to finish. The speech couldn’t end like this. “What I m-mean to say is…” Shivers danced up and down her body as She kept staring. Pinkie felt her strength fading, like water going down a drain and leaving behind an ugly, empty tank. Her pulse throbbed in her ears. “I… I…”
“Pinkie? Are you alright?”
She looked to her left. Sunflower was watching her, expression concerned and hoof raised as if to catch her. Pinkie realized she was swaying to some unknowable rhythm. Her eyes started to pan back, only to land on Fine in the back of the room. The same expression of concern. But no, stronger than concern. It was fear. For her? Or for…
Pinkie looked to the back of the murmuring crowd once more.
She was still there. So small. So looming. So quiet. So loud. So… So…
“I’m s-sorry.”
Fine could only watch in mute shock as Pinkie fled the stage as if it had caught fire. What in Equestria had that been about? She disappeared upstairs without another word, leaving everypony present mystified. He cast his eyes to the back of the crowd, which she seemed to have been focused on, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
He shot a look at Sunflower. The magician’s shock faded to firmness as she nodded to him, then she turned to address the crowd with a winning smile. “Well, wasn’t that something, folks? But don’t you worry about it, the party’s not over yet.”
While she placated the crowd, Fine hurried his way through the assorted ponies. He kept his path open with a faint pocket of air that pushed anypony in his way aside, albeit gently, and made no apologies. His only concern was making sure Pinkie was okay. He just wished he knew what was going on. It had been obvious that she was having trouble keeping up tonight, at least to somepony like him who had known her for so long, but nothing he’d seen had suggested a problem. Hay, she’d even seemed to have picked up a second wind in the last hour of the night. So… what happened?
PS and Cotton met him at the stairs. By their wide-eyed expressions, they were as worried as he felt. Thank Luna Scilla had already gone home to her family. “Fine, what’s going on?” asked PS.
He blocked the route upstairs before they could follow. “I don’t know, but please, leave it to me for now. Whatever it is, we don’t want to overwhelm her.” That was his excuse, anyway. Without any ideas of what had caused Pinkie’s episode, he wanted to be the only one to talk to her about it. He wasn’t even sure why, but it felt important.
PS appeared on the verge of panic. “Y-you can’t just ask us to turn around and go home! Pinkie’s our friend, and we’re gonna—”
Cotton stopped him with a hoof on his shoulder. “That’s enough. Fine’s right, we need to give her space. Let’s trust him.”
“Trust him? We don’t even know him!”
“But Pinkie does.” She met Fine’s gaze, solemn and sad at once. “He knows her better than we do now.” He gave her a subdued smile to show his appreciation, even as he silently begged for this little confrontation to be over so he could do whatever needed to be done.
“But… She… I don’t…” PS ground his teeth, expression shifting wildly from frustration to fear to anger. At last he stomped and snorted. “Alright, we’ll do it your way! But I’m not leaving until I have answers.”
“That’s fair,” Fine said before Cotton could object. “I promise to come back down as soon as I’m sure Pinkie will be okay. Just wait, okay?” Once certain that neither pony would object, he went upstairs, making sure to keep his steps quiet.
Keeping to the shadows so as not to startle her, Fine made his way to the open door of Pinkie’s room. Standing just outside of it, he could hear her muffled crying. It wasn’t a loud wailing or sobbing, but a quiet, barely contained sniffling and mumbling. He poked his head around the doorway. The room was dark, the curtains closed and the candles out. That didn’t stop him from seeing the shivering lump squeezed into the darkest corner of the room.
Every little hiccup and moan was a fresh squeeze on Fine’s heart. Despite that, he didn’t announce his presence in any way. He closed the door, using the most subtle of magic to mute the sound of it and the lock clicking. Then, body low, he slinked through the black room to the poor wreck of a mare in the corner. As he got closer, he finally began to understand her words. This didn’t enlighten him at all.
“I’m so sorry. L-leave me alone. Please. Please. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. Stop s-staring at me. Please…” On and on it went, a broken record of guilt and pain and defeat.
The vice on his chest was too much. “Pinkie.”
Far from soothing her as he’d hoped, his voice only brought her to squeeze into an even tighter ball. “K-keep away,” she hissed. “I d-don’t want to hurt you. P-please.”
He shushed her, carefully reaching out. His hoof touched her shoulder. She jumped as if stung, a gasp choking into a fresh sob. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I’m so—”
He moved in, wrapping her in his hooves and pulling her to him. She lost none of her tension, even as he pressed her head to his chest and began stroking her mane. “It’s okay, Pinkie. I’m here. It’s gonna be okay.”
“N-no it’s not,” she mumbled, eyes closed tight. “She’s here. She’s here! She’s watching me, I just kn-now it. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”
“There’s nopony here, Pinkie. Okay? It’s just us.”
“You don’t know that! She was there. I saw her. She hates me, hates me so much I—”
“Pinkie Pie, listen to me.” He brought his mouth down to her ear. “Listen to my voice. It’s me, Fine Crime. You’re okay. Do you hear me, Pinkie Pie? You’re okay.”
“But—”
“She can’t hurt you. She won’t. I’m here, Pinkie. You don’t have to be afraid.”
“Y-yes I—”
“You’re safe, Pinkie.”
This continued for so long, he wondered if the guests hadn’t all gone home. For every attempt she made to claim a danger, he made sure to block with his voice. He kept his tone soothing, used her name often, and never released her from his embrace. There was no telling if it was the right thing to do, but this was better than nothing. He hoped.
At last, Pinkie stopped trying to argue. Her crying had faded to mere hiccups and she clung to him, face hidden behind a straight mane. At least she’d calmed down, but he still didn’t know what to do next. It was so… frustrating. He should know what to do. Was holding her really enough? It couldn’t be.
“Pinkie?” She shivered, but otherwise didn’t respond. The strange reaction gave him pause, but he couldn’t just leave it at that. “Will you please tell me what’s wrong?” She shook her head. “Please?” Another shake, followed by a faint sniffle.
He barely held back from sighing, not wanting her to know how her behavior bothered him. Allowing himself a moment to consider his next move, he lowered his head so that he could whisper into her ear. “What can I do?” She merely reaffirmed her grip around his barrel.
He pursed his lips, wondered some more. There had to have been some kind of trigger. Even Pinkie wasn’t this weird. Something made her snap tonight, and he had to know what. But was it even the right thing to do, making her talk? His gaze drifted down her long mane, strangely luxurious when straight like this. To his hoof still brushing it in slow, even strokes. To her exposed neck and shoulders. He got a weird idea. An idea not like him at all. A Pinkie idea.
He brought his head down once more, this time bringing his muzzle so that it was nearly touching her neck. The faint scent of strawberries met his nostrils, along with the sugary sweetness of cake frosting and a hint of sweat. He breathed it in, then snorted into her fur. No reaction. He snorted again, the wind from his nostrils making her fur bend and twist. He moved a little closer, snorted again.
Pinkie squirmed. It wasn’t much, but it was a reaction. He snorted a fourth time.
This time she tilted her head his way while raising her shoulder, bumping his muzzle between both. Success! “Pinkie?” She mumbled something indecipherable. “I’m not stopping.” When she didn’t answer, he breathed into her neck once again.
She shivered and tightened her hold, as if this might stop him. More indecipherable mumbling. This time he blew on her neck with his lips, so close he felt her fur faintly tickling them. Pinkie let out a tiny whine and wriggled.
“Come on, Pinkie Pie,” he whispered in her ear. “Look at me?” She shook her head. This time he blew directly into her ear. It twitched and flicked wildly at his windy assault, and once again she pressed her neck to her shoulder in an effort to defend herself.
“St-stop…”
“I want to see that face,” he replied, mildly surprised at his own playful tone. “I’m not stopping until I do.” He punctuated the claim by blowing into her ear again.
This time she pulled away. Not enough to let go of him, but enough that he’d have to put in a lot more effort if he was to continue. Her face was still hidden behind her mane, but her new position gave him an advantage. He moved swiftly, catching her by the sides of her bowed head. “Look at me, Pinkie.”
She sniffed, her hold on him loose as if she’d run out of energy. Which, he supposed, might be the case. When she said nothing, he pressed his forehead to hers. She felt so cool. “Please, Pinkie?”
“I d-don’t want to.” Any elation he might have felt at getting a full sentence out of her was crushed by her dejected, quiet tone.
“Why don’t you want to, Pinkie?”
Her forelegs twitched as if she wanted to pull them close to herself, but soon returned to holding him in that loose grip. “I don’t want you to see me.”
“Why?”
Her shoulders hitched as she fought back a sob. “B-because I can’t hide it anymore. Please.”
Hide it? He felt the knife twisting in his heart, but ignored it in favor of the situation at hoof. Now, at long last, he knew what he had to say. “That’s exactly why I need to see you, Pinkie.”
The raising of her head was so slight he almost missed it. “It is?”
He shuffled a little closer, keeping his forehead touching hers and his voice soft. “Why else are we here but to open up to one another? Really open up. This is you, Pinkie. I want to know all of you. Not just the good bits. You shouldn’t have to hide from me.”
Another quiet sniff as she ran a hoof along his side in a lazy motion. It felt… strange. Not uncomfortable, though. “I w-wanted to prove I could take it. I wanted ponies to see the party pony. I’m s-sorry. I thought I could handle the party tonight. I’m supposed to be Joy, aren’t I? I h-had to be. That’s what Rockstead needed to see.”
“Don’t worry about Rockstead.” He massaged her shoulders gently. “This isn’t about Rockstead. This is about you. I’m here to be with you. Please, won’t you let me see you?”
She tensed under his hold. “You’re going to hate it.”
“That would imply hating you.” He smiled, even knowing she couldn’t see it. “You should know better than anypony that nopony hates you.”
“Not me. It. M-my…” She went quiet, finally pulling her hooves away. They folded at her chest, but he held her tight around the withers to prevent her retreat. For a few seconds all was silence and shadow. And then she raised her head. Like a curtain parting, her mane fell back to reveal her face.
Fine had not seen such a dejected countenance since his early days travelling with Fleur. The bags beneath her eyes. The cheeks marred by tears, strands of mane sticking to her fur. Lips pouty and quivering below a long, sunken, haggard face. Her eyelids drooped halfway closed, putting her weariness on full display. But even with the limited view of them, her eyes were able to convey a strange mix of emotions; fear, hurt, uncertainty, and all beneath a veil of dull fatigue.
“Oh, Pinkie Pie…”
She tried to pull away, clenching her eyes closed and shaking in his hold. “You see? Now you’re going to feel guilty because you want to help and you can’t and you’ll hate that and it’s all my f-fault.” The tears began anew as she sobbed and tried to hide behind her mane again.
One part of that little rant was accurate: Fine did feel guilty. Guilty because he’d known she was having difficulties, but not the extent. Guilty that he hadn’t gotten her to open up about how hard things really had gotten. And yet he also felt a certain relief; at last, for the first time since he’d known her, she’d let the mask fall. And, strange though it was, he wanted more of that. It was what he’d wanted all along. She was bearing herself, and for all the pain that involved, it may have been the single most touching thing anypony had ever done for him.
He parted her mane with a hoof, leaned forward, and kissed her on the forehead.
Pinkie froze, her eyes bulging and her face becoming the shade of a ripe apple. She might have even had steam coming out of her ears. Little stammers slipped through her lips before she finally managed a squeaky “W-w-w-what?”
In her stupor, she was unable to stop him from tugging her in for a full, proper hug. Her long, straight mane blinded him, cool and soft to the touch, and he couldn’t help smiling through it. “Don’t ever think you have to hide the truth from me. It’s okay if I can’t help, so long as you let me try.” Rubbing her back, heart throbbing, he whispered, “That’s all I ask: let me try. It doesn’t matter if it hurts. Special someponies aren’t afraid to hurt.”
She gasped, shivering in his grip. “I… You… You mean it?”
He pulled back to nod, unable to quit smiling. “I’m okay with hurting, as long as I’m hurting for you.” Brushing her mane back, he gazed into those tired blue eyes with their tiny pupils. “You’ve hurt enough for me as it is. It’s long past time I returned the favor.”
She blinked at his words. Her lips quivered into a fragile smile. “That was terrible.”
Waving a hoof dismissively, he countered with, “I don’t write comedy.”
Her smile strengthened, though only barely. “I can see why.” Then it faded for an anxious frown. She rubbed her forehooves together, head bowed even as she maintained eye contact. “But are you sure you want t-to…?”
He nodded, maintaining his pleasant smile. “Didn’t I say it before? If I’m going to be with you, I want to be with all of you. Please, share with me everything. Not a little, not a lot. Don’t try to hide what you think I won’t like. Everything. All or nothing.” At last losing the smile, he touched her cheek to raise her head, letting him lean closer and emphasize his next words properly. “Starting with what happened downstairs. Why did you run away?”
Her eyes widened slightly, and she almost looked down. Yet she seemed to catch herself and, with a long sigh, brought her gaze back to his. Just doing that seemed to take a lot of self-control, so he didn’t press her when she remained silent. Seconds passed as her pupils danced in tiny motions. He could easily imagine she was arguing with herself in some way. He refused to interfere with that, even as he silently begged her to respond. At last, she started to open her mouth—
A knock on the door exploded into the silence, making the both of them jump – Pinkie with an added “Eep!” She pulled away and trembled in the corner, shaking her head frantically. Fine cast one look at her shivering form and decided it would be best to get rid of their guest post haste. He had a feeling he knew who it was. He gestured for Pinkie to keep silent with a hoof to his lips, then went to the door on silent hooves. He unlocked and opened it just a crack and saw, to no surprise, that it was PS on the other side. Opening it a little further revealed that he was being flanked by Cotton and Mr. Collate.
“H-hey,” PS whispered, head low as he shifted from hoof to hoof. “Sorry, but you’ve been up here a while. We were worried.”
Fine almost stepped outside, but a barely-heard whimper stopped him in the act. He didn’t dare leave Pinkie alone right now. So he opened the door just enough that he could fit his head through and could address them… well, semi-properly. “How long have we been up here?”
“Almost an hour now,” Cotton said, her eyes glancing over Fine’s head as if she might spot Pinkie. “Is she okay?”
A lie would be so easy, but would they buy it? He wasn’t sure about Petri, but PS and Cotton probably wouldn’t settle for a simple excuse. Better to go with a half-truth. “Not really. Pinkie’s really… sensitive right now. She’s in no condition to entertain visitors. I’m sorry.”
“But what happened?” Petri asked.
“I…” Fine sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. Yet. I’m trying to figure that out for myself.”
PS frowned, frustration apparent in his gaze. “And you don’t think we can get it out of her?”
Fine hesitated. Could they? He didn’t think so, but maybe… He stepped back to glance into the darkness. Through the shadows he found Pinkie staring at him from the corner, her blue eyes shining clearly in the darkness. She shook her head swiftly and mouthed, ‘Please, no.’
Another sigh, and Fine brought his head out once more. “Sorry,” he muttered, not meeting PS’s hard gaze.
“It’s alright.” Cotton set a hoof to PS’s withers, which was enough to make him relax and step back. She then looked to Fine. “But you’ll let us know when you can?”
“That’s up to Pinkie,” Fine replied, allowing his guilt to echo in his voice. “I won’t make this decision for her. But I’ll try to convince her. Okay?”
PS once again appeared ready to argue, but Cotton silenced him with a quick look. “That’s fine,” she said. “We’ll give her some space. Just let her know. If she needs us?”
“I will.” Fine nodded, after which she and PS departed, though the stallion shot Fine one more suspecting glower.
Petri stepped forward and offered something in both hooves. Fine took it in his magic and studied the object. It was a large ball, bright pink in a clear wrapper. “What’s this?”
“Candy. My sister makes them. Calls them jawbreakers. Trust me, the name is apt.” Petri flashed a lopsided, anxious smile. “I thought maybe Pinkie’d appreciate it. Y’know, because she’s supposed to suck on it instead of swallow? I know it’s not much, but I thought it might help her mood or something.” The proprietor of the Rock Bottom Inn heaved a sigh, his ears folding back as he broke eye contact with Fine. “Yeah, it’s dumb. I just couldn’t think of anything better to offer after all the business she’s drummed up for me. Bits seems kind of callous.”
Fine considered the piece of hard candy levitating before him, then smiled. Not a strong smile, but a smile nonetheless. “I think she’ll love it. Maybe it’s just what she needs right now. Thanks, Petri.” The stallion returned the smile before turning to shuffle his way back downstairs.
With the last visitor dealt with, Fine closed and re-locked the door. He turned to find Pinkie on her hooves, though she leaned heavily against the wall. “You okay?”
Pinkie started to nod, stopped, shook her head. “Thanks for talking to them. I… I’m really not up to it right now.” Her gaze settled upon the candy in Fine’s magic. “Aww, did Petri give me a jawbreaker? That was sweet. I’ll have it later.” She took the proffered treat and slipped it into her mane with a little smile.
Then that smile was gone, like it had never existed. As they stared into one another’s eyes, Fine was once again made aware of how extraordinarily exhausted she appeared. He reached up to brush her long mane aside, unable to repress a wave of guilt that he hadn’t seen this coming sooner. He dared not voice the idea, however, for he remembered what she was afraid of at the moment. Instead, he asked, “Are you willing to share now?”
She sighed and shrugged. “It’s the nightmares. They keep getting worse. I haven’t slept properly since we got here.” She kept her gaze on the bed, though he couldn’t tell if it was to avoid his eyes or not. “I knew it was getting out of hoof, but… but I had to try. I wanted everypony to know I was okay.” She sagged and shook her head. “Looks like I screwed that up royally. I hope nopony’s mad…”
“Nopony’s going to be mad at you, Pinkie. At worst, they’ll be concerned.” He settled next to her and began stroking her mane. The motion was starting to become as much a habit for his own comfort as for hers. “You still haven’t answered my main question.”
“I know, and I swear I’m not avoiding the topic.” Pinkie leaned into him, tilting her head up to push against his hoof whenever it reached the height of its stroke. The two of them settled into a soothing rhythm, his hoof moving through her pleasantly cool mane and her head gradually bobbing up and down with it. “I just… have to do it right.”
He cocked his head in an effort to better see her face. Her eyes were downcast. “Do what right?”
“Explain.” She caught his hoof in hers, stopping the strokes, and held it close to her chest. “I can’t do this anymore. What I saw tonight, it… i-it…” Closing her eyes, she rubbed her cheek against Fine’s fetlock. With a slow, shaky breath, she began to relax again. “No more waiting. No more stalling. Tomorrow we’re going to the Rock Farm so I can tell you what happened next.”
Fine felt his heart tearing in two from conflicting desires. “B-but you need your rest. I can’t in good conscience—”
“I can’t rest,” she muttered, eyes half-opening but focused on his hoof. All the weariness and sadness was back, just as it had been before, but now there was a subdued, calm aspect to it. Fine realized what he was seeing was acceptance. “The nightmares… She won’t let me.”
His eyebrows rose. “She?”
She shook her head. “Later.” Why did he get the feeling she wanted ‘later’ to mean ‘never’?
They sat like that for a while, her holding his fetlock against her cheek as if it were a salve of some kind, but otherwise seeming lost in her own thoughts. Fine allowed this, even though he couldn’t help feeling a little awkward. The touch against his fetlock felt… strangely intimate. Was he supposed to say something? What did ponies do in situations like this? He studied her face, her gaunt features, her straight mane, her dull, tired eyes. He already missed their energy.
Then his eyes fell on her forehead, and he thought about that little kiss he’d given her. Was it normal for him to want to do it again?
“Fine?”
He twitched out of his thoughts. She shrank from his gaze, cheeks shining like bright red beacons. He could feel their building heat through the fetlock pressed against her fur. “Y-yes?”
She swallowed, stuttered, found her words. “Would you, um, stay? With me? Just to help. With the nightmares, I mean.”
Wasn’t that frowned upon at their stage in the relationship? Fine’s heart tried to leap into his chest, but he pounced on the immediate reaction and hammered it back into place. No, no, it’s not like that. She just needs help sleeping peacefully. You can do that. There’s nothing wrong or untoward or… or… Just calm down. “Of course. I can do that.” I can do that.
She offered a frail smile in thanks and leaned into him, her head pressing against his shoulder. “Thank you…”
Fine closed his eyes and let out a slow, quiet breath. Her luxurious mane against his fur wasn’t doing him any favors. But he resolved himself to the task.
He only hoped it would help.