Twilight’s quill flew across her notebook leaving a trail of meticulous notes in its wake. The chairs in the observation deck were pretty comfortable, which seemed quite logical to her since surgeries could go on for hours and hours. There were other doctors in the room with them, but they kept a fair distance away, muttering amongst themselves over what was surely a unique case.
Science always helped calm Twilight’s nerves. Whenever she felt too close to something, she would try and look at it from a scientific point of view. It always put a distance between her and the problem which let her see things from a more logical view. Luckily, Clockwork’s surgery was no different. Every time a nagging voice told her that the pony on the table was the one she had fallen in love with, Twilight found it rather easy to distance herself by taking notes in the notebook she decided to carry along.
Scientific or not, however, she did find it difficult to watch some parts of the surgery. She admired Clockwork’s mom for her nerves of steel. Not once in the operation did she so much as flinch. Nevertheless, Twilight dutifully took notes as the machines whirred and beeped, and the ponies down below did their task with the utmost efficiency. Thankfully, they seemed to be nearing the end of their procedure. All that remained was clean up and sutures if the chatter was anything to go by.
“Doctor, do you see this?” one of the nurses asked, motioning to the bulge in Clockwork’s neck.
Immediately, Twilight’s ears shot up in curiosity. She exchanged a worried glance with Clockwork’s mom.
“I do,” Dr. Graft stated. “That’s been bothering me the moment I saw it. Since we’re already in here, I think we should check it out.”
Another pony raised his eyes. “Didn’t you say surgeons don’t go outside the scope of the operation?”
“Scalpel,” Graft called out. “That’s right, Intern Rosehip, I also said trust your instincts. I’m curious what could cause such a strange bulge like this in the neck fascia.”
Twilight’s stomach lurched as the doctor cut further into her partner.
Suddenly the entire operating room fell silent, apart from the machines. The ponies gathered around all leaned in, staring into the cut.
“Doctor,” the intern began. “Is that what I think it is?”
A crimson splatter covered Graft’s mask and glasses. Everypony backpedaled in shock as the machines started blaring.
“Nurse! Clean my glasses!” Graft bellowed. “We’ve got a burst aneurysm on her jugular! We have minutes before she bleeds out! Somepony go get some more blood, now! Clamp’em down!”
“Doctor! BP is dropping!” What do we do?” a nurse asked.
Dr. Graft swore under his breath and stepped closer to the table. “What we always do, idiot! We get the bleeding stopped, then get more blood in her.”
A long shrill beep filled the room catching everypony’s attention. The intern in training gasped. “Doctor, asystole! She’s flatlining!”
Graft pushed another nurse away. “I know that, idiot! Is this your first surgery? It just means we have to work faster!”
In the observation room, Twilight dropped her notebook and quill, and Clockwork’s mom gasped. Leaping out of her chair, Twilight planted her hooves on the window in desperation.
“No, no, no! You can’t do this! You can’t leave me like this! We have a date! You promised!”
The tears fell from Twilight’s eyes, punctuated by her sobbing. Through her bleary eyes, she tried focusing on the pony lying on the table. Any pretense of this being some sort of scientific observation fell away.
“Please! You promised!”
A light shone in Clockwork’s eyes, rousing her from her slumber. Slowly she stumbled to her hooves and realized that the light came from a rickety lantern above her head, swaying from the limb of a rotted tree. Her eyes danced across the landscape, but saw nothing but blackness and an encroaching fog.
“Hello! Is anypony out there?”
Thump... thump… thump…
Spinning around on her hooves, Clockwork turned to the ominous sound. What she saw made her blood run cold. A figure dressed in a black robe slowly shuffled toward her. The figure itself didn’t seem very imposing. In fact, it would have looked more pitiable than anything, given it’s lurching movement.
If it didn’t have a scythe slung across its shoulder.
“Oh no. No, no, no, no… not now…”
If the figure heard Clockwork’s pleas, it certainly didn’t show. It kept shuffling toward the terrified earth pony, never yielding in it’s task. Clockwork backpedaled, preparing to run, when she realized that everywhere else was blackness. Resigned to her fate, she swallowed hard and stood upon shaky hooves.
It was at that point she noticed a white hoof poking forward out of the robe. Looking closely, she could see that the scythe had caught on the garment and started pulling it off. The figure took another haggard step and pulled the scythe forward which finally yanked the robe off completely.
The figure, now derobed, looked around frantically and tossed her scythe to the ground. “Shoot! I knew I should have kept my old scythe!”
The bright and chirpy voice instantly washed away all of the dread that had built up. The imposing robed figure was now just a white pegasus with yellow poofy hair. Clockwork tilted her head at the curious looking pony.
“Uhhh, who are you?”
Retrieving her scythe, the pegasus swung the unwieldy weapon three times and gave what she probably assumed was a very dynamic pose. It probably would have been if she didn’t look like she was in danger of falling over on the last swing. “Heellloooo, I’m the reaper! You know, the mysterious spirit that appears to ponies when they die?”
“You don’t look much like a reaper.”
The white pegasus stuck her neck out unnaturally far, putting her nose mere inches away from Clockwork. “Really? How many reapers have you met?”
“Uhhh, none, I guess.”
“Hah! Trick question!” The pony yelled triumphantly. “Nopony remembers an encounter with me! Not until the final one, anyway.”
Clockwork didn’t know what to say to that, so she fell back on what usually worked. “So, uhhh, do you have a name?”
The pony nodded excitedly. “I sure do! It’s…”
Clockwork cocked an eyebrow at the pegasus. “It’s...?”
“It’s… I forgot.”
Shaking her head, Clockwork groaned. “How do you forget your name?”
“Hey, you try being two hundred and fourteen thousand, six hundred and twelve years old and see if you can remember your name.”
Rubbing her temples, Clockwork sighed. “You remember how old you are, but you don’t remember your name.”
“Pfft. Of course I know how old I am. That’s the only way I can keep track of birthdays. Duh!”
Throwing up her hooves in exasperation, Clockwork groaned. “What do I call you, then?”
“You can call me Reaper if you like. I mean, it’s not like we’re gonna spend a bunch of time together, and you won’t remember meeting me.”
Clockwork nodded. “Good point. Sooooo Reaper, what does that mean exactly?”
“It means you’re dead!” the excitable pony chirped.
Once again, Clockwork’s heart sank. “Oh. What happens now?”
The pegasus turned and jumped into an office chair that Clockwork didn’t remember being there a moment ago. “Now, we wait.”
“Wait? Wait for what? I’m dead. Don’t you use that scythe to… you know… reap?”
Reaper looked at Clockwork, and then looked at her blade. A bubbly laugh rose up her throat that quickly turned into a snort. “No, no, no. You got it all wrong. A soul can’t be cut, no matter what blade you wield. This baby is used to cut through reality. With it, I can cut a hole to any location in space time in any dimension I want. It’s how I travel. Could you imagine how hard it would be to walk or fly everywhere? Booooring!”
“What are we waiting for, then?”
“For you to die, of course,” the pegasus said with a wave of her hoof.
“But I thought I was dead...”
Reaper groaned, rubbing her temples. “Ugh. Okay. Let me put it like this. You are dead, but you’re not dead dead. See, you are dead, but I don’t know if you’re truly dead yet. Those doctors have to give up before I can claim you, and I won’t know if they do unless you’ve died. Time doesn’t work for me the same way it does you. Think of it like this...”
Reaching into her mane, Reaper produced a ball of yarn. Reeling out a couple feet, she dragged the thread across her scythe which seemed to cut it before it even touched the blade.
“For you, this is how time works,” she explained, holding out the string in a straight line.
Clockwork nodded. She reasoned to herself that this seemed simple enough, and that any sort of visual aid was unnecessary.
“And this,” Reaper continued, “is how it works for me!”
A flurry of hooves quickly made the thread disappear until she finally stopped. Held between her hooves was an intricate quilt, only much smaller than one would usually be.
“For me, you are dead, and you’re not. Every moment is now, and later.”
Clockwork blinked at the miniature quilt in Reaper’s hooves, trying to understand how it explains anything. Eventually, she decided to take a wild guess.
“Soooo, have you ever met yourself in the past or future before?”
“I just told you, there is no past or future me, it’s…” The smile Reaper gave her was short, and just a little bit sad. “It’s complicated,” She finally said.
The gears began turning in Clockwork’s head. “Wait, if we’re stuck waiting here, why don’t you use that scythe of yours to find out what’s happening to me?”
The pegasus raised an eyebrow and leaned forward in her office chair. “Are you sure you wanna see that? It’s usually really messy.”
Now that Reaper had posed the question, Clockwork realized staring at herself like a gutted fish wasn’t exactly something she wanted to endure.
“Then show me Twilight.”
Hopping out of her office chair, Reaper hefted her scythe across her shoulder. Even standing feet away, she could feel the absolute sharpness of the blade. It was the very manifestation of sharpness and It seemed as if the blade could cut her just by looking at it. With a single clean swipe, a tear formed in mid-air right through the very nature of the universe. Galloping forward, the two of them crowded around the ethereal gash.
Inside, they saw Twilight sitting in the surgical observation deck, her front hooves resting on the glass and tears streaking down her distraught face. The sight was enough to set tears rolling down Clockwork’s own cheeks.
“Oh, Twilight! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t want this to happen, I just wanted to be good enough for you!”
A white hoof patted Clockwork on the back. “Cheer up. The fat one is good at his job. He’ll probably have you not-dead in no time.”
Peering deep into the tear, Clockwork felt compelled to reach in. Her hoof nearly made it through before Reaper opened her mouth.
“Stop.”
Any trace of the prior excitable or bubbly voice had vanished. Taking its place was a booming, heart-stopping command. The order seemed to cut right through Clockwork’s bones and hold them in place as if frozen in ice. In short, it was a command impossible to disobey.
“Is… is it possible to go through?” Clockwork asked.
Reaper nodded solemnly. “Yes, but you’ll be a spirit in the land of the living. Without a body, your spirit cannot interact with anything. You would grow envious of the living, jealous. Driven mad, your soul would eventually twist and corrupt to take the form of a wendigo. That’s all wendigos are. Former souls of the living that became trapped, unable to cross over. They take pleasure in watching the living fight and bicker amongst each other. In other words, I wouldn’t even think about doing that.”
Clockwork reluctantly pulled her hoof back. “Oh…”
The Reaper’s demeanor seemed to lighten up, her voice rising in pitch once again. “Also, the living world moves at half the speed for spirits, so that would totally get boring after awhile. Trust me, you don’t wanna be a spirit roaming the land of the living. It’s like a birthday party without food. Could you imagine something so terrible? I sure can’t!”
Clockwork stared at Reaper, probing the improbably cheerful spirit. “You remind me of somepony I know…”
Reaper cocked her head to the side. “Do I? I thought you said you haven’t met any reapers before today.”
“I haven’t, at least I don’t think I have. I just mean… eh, never mind. Were you always a reaper?” Clockwork asked.
The spirit fell backwards onto a conveniently placed beanbag chair that definitely wasn’t there a moment ago. “Nope! I used to be a pony like you! Well, not the whole making ponies poop themselves when I talk thing. I mean that I used to play in the sun, laugh with friends, make cakes, do all sorts of fun stuff.”
“What happened?”
Reaper blew a lock of her hair out of her face. “I died, duh. All of us did. Some sort of plague or something. An entire generation, wiped out in less than a month. Crazy to think about. I had a long talk with the reaper at the time. We talked about all sorts of things. He was angry, and sad. He used to be part of a village that was wiped out in the first day of a four hundred year war. I just talked with him, told him it wasn’t his fault. In the twenty four million years he was a reaper, nopony ever bothered to talk with him about his problems. Do you know how horrible that is?”
“I’m barely twenty-two so uhhh, no. Not really,” Clockwork admitted.
“Well, it’s really bad! Anyway, he enjoyed our conversation so much, that he finally crossed over! After that, I took up his scythe, and now I try and help ponies on their way to the next stage in their life. Errr, death. You get the idea.”
“I see. I just wish-guh!”
Clockwork clutched her chest as a searing pain shot through it. Looking down at herself, she noticed her body going translucent, slowly fading. “Wh-what does this mean?”
“It means you’re not dead anymore, silly!” Reaper raised her scythe and waved it back and forth. “Bye, Clockwork! Go enjoy life some more! I’ll see you again someday!”
Feeling the world slip away, Clockwork couldn’t help but hope that day was still far away.
For Reaper, that day had come, had gone, and was yet to come. Only she understood this, and she was okay with that.
Through a bleary haze, Clockwork awoke to myriad sensations. first being the crust under her eyes, practically sealing them shut. She called upon every muscle in her eyelids, every fiber of her being to pry them loose. Slowly, her eyes creeped open, letting in the minuscule amount of light that emanated from the room.
The next unpleasant feeling was the dull aching in her neck, and the long tube going down her throat. the intrusive tubes in her nose along with the iv in her leg made her feel like some piece in a living machine straight out of a science fiction novel.
Her amber eyes drifted to the window where a full moon hung low in the sky. Turning to the right, she saw two ponies curled up together in one of the room’s chairs.
Clockwork’s mom sat in the chair, her eyes drawn to the ceiling. Sitting next to her was none other than the princess of friendship, Twilight Sparkle. Seeing the taller alicorn nuzzled up next to her mom like a filly brought out a strained smile.
Page Turner looked toward the bed, her eyes widening in realization. Gently she shook the alicorn snoozing in her embrace. “Twilight. Wake up, you silly thing.”
Twilight’s mouth opened wide with a cavernous yawn. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she finally turned to the bed where Clockwork lay patiently.
“Clockwork! You’re awake!”
Darting from the chair, she practically threw herself at the bed. “We were so worried! See, in the operation, after they finished working on your larynx, they… I guess it doesn’t matter. The most important thing is that you’re here now.”
Though it took considerable effort, Clockwork tried to nod in agreement. Never before had her head felt so heavy and cumbersome.
“Easy dear,” Clockwork’s mom warned. “You haven’t been out of surgery long. Just in case you weren’t aware, you’ll be eating through a tube for the next twenty four hours or so. At least until your neck has healed. Last thing we want is a kink in the tube because you won’t stop fidgeting.”
Clockwork rolled her eyes, but laid her head back on the pillow anyway She felt no need to push the point against such a logical argument.
“Twilight,” Mrs. Turner started. “You should go on home and try to get some rest.”
Frantic purple eyes turned to meet the older mare. “No! I want to be by her side in case something happens, or if they need me to answer a question, or-”
Twilight fell silent as Clockwork touched her with a pink hoof.
“See?” Page Turner said. “She wants you to get some rest too, and you’re not going to get any rest by sitting in these uncomfortable chairs. Go on now. I’ll keep an eye on her. It’s my duty as a mother, after all.”
“And you? You think you can get some decent sleep here?” Twilight fired back.
Mrs. Turner walked to a nearby cabinet and opened it revealing a few blankets. “I’ll just build a pallet on the floor. Satisfied?”
The blankets flew into the air, thanks to Twilight’s magic. Spreading them out on the floor, Twilight hopped on the newly made pallet triumphantly. “If it’s good enough for you, it’s good enough for me. It’ll be a slumber party,” Twilight said with a smirk.
Page Turner chuckled softly and laid down on the pallet. Pulling Twilight close to her, they nestled together, both sharing a deep sigh. “That is the one trait I love about you most, Twilight. You always had the courage to disobey. Neither science or Princess Celestia herself could stop you when you put your mind to something.”
From her spot on the hospital bed, Clockwork could only stare wistfully at the two ponies laying on the makeshift bed.
Just one pony shy of a real cuddle puddle.
“Good night, Clockwork, Good night, Mrs. Turner,” Twilight muttered amidst a yawn.
“Good night, You two.”
With those final words, the room fell into silence. The machines in the room filled the silence with their own whirrs and humming. Few things in the world helped Clockwork drift off like the sound of machinery, and soon, she too found herself nodding off, a contented smile forming around the tube in her throat.
Two days passed since Clockwork’s surgery. With a tube stuck in her throat, she had little choice but to wile the time away with books and listening to other ponies who came to visit her. She started life in the sleepy town of Ponyville with no friends whatsoever, but in the following months, managed to make a menagerie of friends. Friends who were now gathered in excitement for this special day.
On her left were the famed Elements of Harmony. Though she was only passing acquaintances with Fluttershy and Applejack, Clockwork knew they would be there since Twilight was. On her right were Bon-bon, Lyra, and the Cakes with their twins, who she got to know from her addiction to their delicious baked goods and proximity to a certain pink pony.
Of course, the most important ponies in the room were right next to her bed. Twilight on one side, her mother on the other. Tears welled in Clockwork’s eyes as she held their hooves with her own.
“C’mon, we don’t have all day!” Rainbow shouted. She hovered between her friends, an anxious smile on her face.
Nurse Redheart rolled her eyes. “Jeez, calm down. I’m about to remove it, alright?” Reaching over, the nurse grabbed the tube going down Clockwork’s throat with her hoof. “Deep breath now.”
Clockwork nodded and inhaled deeply.
With a steady hoof, Redheart pulled the tube out carefully. Putting it aside, she smiled at her patient. “No rush, but anytime you want to try and speak is fine.”
Clockwork’s jaw muscles ached from underuse. Working her mouth around, she finally took a sigh of relief. Despite nurse Redheart’s words, the other ponies looked like they might explode if she didn’t talk soon. Looking at her mom, she smiled and then turned to Twilight, opening her mouth in the process.
“Hey, Sparklebutt.”
It was raspy, scratchy, and hurt just a bit, but it was her voice, and it rung true. The tears finally fell from Twilight’s eyes as she released something between a giggle and a sob. Throwing her forelegs around Clockwork’s neck, she let her tears fall freely.
Still pinned by the sobbing alicorn, Clockwork turned to another pony. “I love you, Mom.”
Like a switch had been pulled, Page Turner threw her hooves around Clockwork’s neck as well, soaking her other shoulder in fresh tears. In a matter of moments, the entire bed was surrounded by her friends, each one eager to get a word in, and to get a word of their own from Clockwork. After speaking a couple times, the raspiness left her voice. Pinkie and Fluttershy cooed at her, claiming her voice was really cute. Rarity said it had a singsong quality to it, while everyone else agreed it was good to hear it without a machine.
The only thing Clockwork cared about was that nopony was forced to flee, nor were any of them in pain. She talked to all of them for hours. From the upcoming weather schedule, to correct semi-colon usage, she kept talking until the nurse told them visiting hours were over, and that everyone but Twilight and her mother had to leave. Upon waving and saying her goodbyes to the retreating ponies, she was aware of one thing more than any other.
This was the happiest day of her entire life.