“A… ACHOO!”
The sneeze had the young Twilight Sparkle nearly flying out of her bed, the sack of ice atop her head falling into her blanket-covered lap. She could feel the weight of her swollen eyes as she looked down, sniffing. She’d been up since four in the morning with this insane cold. Medication didn’t work, tea couldn’t help her congestion, and her throat stung each time she swallowed. In addition, she shivered even though she had two layers of blankets covering her.
But none of this was even close to the fact that today would be her first day back from Spring Break. She was known for many things, but she was not known as Twilight Sparkle the Sluffer. Twilight Sluffkle? She groaned as she looked up at the clock hung up on her wall. It was seven. Class started at seven-thirty.
The door echoed soft and loving taps before it cracked open. Her mom’s head poked into view, a gentle smile on her face. “Morning, Twilight!” her voice lulled. “Feeling any better?”
“No,” Twilight deadpanned, her voice scratchy, if there at all. If her face allowed, her expression would match. “Thanks for helping me with the ice pack though.”
“Not a problem!” Velvet said warmly. “Although, if it weren’t for you running into the wall of our room, I don’t think I would’ve woken up.”
“Thanks for pointing that out…” Twilight sighed. Her head still hurt from the early-morning venture. She shifted in her bed, flinging her hooves over the edge. “I really, really have to go to school though—”
Before she could finish her sentence, Velvet sprinted into the room, placing a heavy hoof on her chest. “Oh, no you don’t,” she blurted, pushing her back into the mattress. “Honey, you’re sick and have a fever. I’ll drop by the Academy and let Celestia know you’re not feeling too well.”
Twilight’s eyes widened—well, as much as they could. To miss a single day of school would be a fate worse than death! Her record was spotless; she had straight A’s, was twenty minutes early every day to school, studied her brains out… to have a blemish such as one absence would ruin her! “But—!”
“Not another word,” Velvet insisted in a frustratingly calm voice. “You’d only be making yourself worse. Not to mention that other kids at your school might catch your bug!”
Twilight narrowed her eyes—much easier than widening them. “Isn’t it dad’s job to worry like this?”
Velvet rolled her eyes. “Trust me,” she grunted between grit teeth. “He was up all night worrying about taking you to the ER.” She backed away, taking her hoof off her chest. “Anyways, do you understand?”
Twilight bit her lip. That wasn’t a question. If she said no, then her mom wouldn’t hesitate to wrestle her to the bed, and find some way to tie her down so she couldn’t move. “Yyyyyyyeeessssss…?”
Velvet’s eyebrows formed a straight line, her gaze pierced into her soul. “Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Positive?”
“No—ah, crap.”
Velvet’s eyebrows raised back up again, and she chortled. “O-okay,” she managed. “Look, I’ll even talk to Celestia about the lesson plan for today. I’ll go over it with you after work. Sound good?”
Twilight forced a smile. Still didn’t address the problem that she still wasn’t there. “Better,” she grunted.
Velvet raised her eyes to the heavens, giving an exasperated sigh. Her lips turned into a crooked smile, an eyebrow raised. “What am I going to do with you?” she sighed, shaking her head. If she was a biped, she would have a hand on her hip. She walked forward once again, pecking Twilight on the crown of her head, through her messy mane. “Just... don’t do anything rash, please? Your father would have a heart attack if you did.”
When her mom pulled away, Twilight avoided her gaze. “I’ll try not to,” she mumbled.
Another sigh. “Okay. Your father will be here to help you with anything you need. Just holler and he’ll come.”
Twilight managed a laugh. “Assuming I can holler in the first place,” she said with a smirk.
“True,” Velvet granted. With that she turned back to the door, flipping around to look at her through the door as she pulled it shut. “I love you to pieces!”
“Love you to atoms,” Twilight responded almost ceremoniously, although she really wasn’t feeling it. After one last smile from her mom and the door closed, her mind erupted into movement. First with a seedling of how she would sneak out, then it exploded into a rainbow of possibilities. Sneaking past her dad was easy...
But Spike. Although he was only the equivalent of a toddler, he had a horrible knack of finding her at the worst times. She couldn’t count the many times he’d sneakily follow her into the bathroom, how many times he’d be in the closet while she was reading something that would make even her mom faint, all while saying those same two, annoying words: “What do?” She’d have to find a way to avoid him and his creepy toddler habits… but how? She wasn’t dumb enough to lock him in his room, that’d hurt him, but she also didn’t need him to call attention to herself. She sighed. As it stands, she needed to cross that bridge when she got to it—or burn it.
She rolled on the sides of her hooves in each step to avoid making a noise. Dad would most likely be downstairs in the living room. She thanked her lucky stars that her room wasn’t right above it, or else the squeaking floorboards would’ve got her noticed. She opened the door slowly, peaking out both sides. Neither Spike nor Dad was there. Good.
She walked cautiously onto the balcony/hallway, peeking down past the railing. Sure enough, Night Light was reading the newspaper, thick, dark glasses sitting on his nose. Why Velvet didn’t prevent him from buying the clumsy things, she had no clue. They aged him probably ten years.
But his eyes were off of her, which was a relief. She couldn’t imagine how awkward it would be if he was looking straight at her.
But how would she go about distracting him so she could sneak out the front door? She pursed her lips. Dad was an anxious bucket of pony parts, and while he was calm in familiar environments, anything new or bothersome enough would get him up and moving.
She felt the surge of eureka as an idea snapped into her mind. The faucet. Dad hated it when the faucet in the kitchen sink wasn’t all the way closed. The house was structured in a way that the sound of the dripping water amplified as it traveled to the living room. If she could crack the faucet open just a teeny, tiny bit…
Twilight snuck down the stairs when her dad put down the newspaper and stretched backward, arching over the back of the chair. Bad. She hugged the stairs as her dad’s eyes focused to exactly were she was at… but he didn’t seem to notice her. He shifted left and right, his back popping with each movement. He let out a euphoric sigh, straightening back up and picking up the newspaper again.
Twilight stood, sneaking down the stairs a little bit more until she could see straight into the kitchen. She found the double-trough sink, focusing on the faucet handle. She imagined pushing it up with a hoof, as if she was actually there. However, as she lifted, it was a bit heavier on her mind than usual. She felt it lift, but she didn’t see the faucet lift.
That’s when she realized that she had actually lifted the cast iron dutch oven about half a foot above the marble countertop. She jolted in surprise, her aura dissipating for a second. She gasped, focusing on the dutch oven to catch it before it crashed downward, but instead of catching the dutch oven, she ripped off the faucet handle, water spraying onto the kitchen tile. The dutch oven landed with a bang!, and Night Light jumped an impressive distance in the air. Within a few seconds, he was on his hooves, sprinting toward the kitchen.
Twilight grimaced so hard that it hurt her teeth while clamping them together. But if she wanted to get to school, that was her chance. Her hooves flew down the stairs, reaching the bottom landing in a fraction of a second. She focused on her saddlebags, lighting her horn, and they lifted from the hook they were on… just not high enough. She frantically pulled at her saddlebags to free them from their fixture, but to no avail. She’d sooner break the strap.
“Twawah?” an alarmingly adorable voice called from the hallway to her left. She spun around to see Spike’s chubby baby body as he looked up at her with questioning eyes.
The unicorn’s eyes widened. She hissed, “Nonononono—”
The dragon then projected the loudest, “What do?!?” that she’d ever heard. It made her ears ring louder than the dutch oven crashing down did. Her fever must’ve jumped an extra ten degrees as her face became redder with embarrassment and nervousness. Her cover was all but blown at this point. Cursing under her breath, she lifted her saddlebags off the hooks, strapped them around her barrel, and stormed out the door, not caring any longer about the noise she had made. She thought she heard her dad and Spike yell together “Twilight!” as she sprinted off toward the school.
Princess Celestia opened the doors to the school to the few unicorns that waited in line outside them. “Good morning!” she greeted warmly. “Sorry I was a little late. Come on in! We still have fifteen minutes before class starts!”
As the foals made their way in, she noticed somepony out of the corner of her eye, just popping into existence. She turned her head to notice a unicorn mare with a pale pink coat walking up to her.
“Oh, Mrs. Sparkle!” she blurted, half in nervous laughter. Whenever she showed up, it wasn’t necessarily good. “What brings you here today?”
Velvet trotted up to the princess, managing a quick curtsey. “Good morning, Princess. I just wanted to let you know that Twilight has got a really bad cold, and she… shouldn’t be coming to class today.”
Celestia gave a knowing smile. “She’s going to try sneaking out, isn’t she?”
“Yep… if she doesn’t destroy the house in the process.” Velvet bit her lip. “Maybe I shouldn’t have left Night Light in charge… he’s probably having a panic attack right now.”
Meanwhile…
“Nononononono!” Night Light fretted. He lit his horn, putting a protective barrier around the remains of the faucet, hit coat soaking wet. He shot his eyes around frantically. “Where’sthehandlewhere’sthehandle?” He attempted to sprint to the other side of the kitchen, only for his hooves to slip on the pooling water on the tile. He flipped and fell smack on his back, knocking whatever air he had out of his lungs. His protective barrier failed, water sprinkling down on him once more.
Great! He thought, trying to catch his breath. Twilight’s gone, the faucet’s broken, wife’s going to kill me when she gets home. What else can go wrong?
“Nah Lah?” Spike’s cute toddler voice sounded from around the island. His head and humongous reptilian eyes appeared from around the corner. “What do?”
Night Light sighed, dragging his hoof down his face. “Questioning my life decisions,” he grunted.
“Oh,” Spike said, walking over to the edge of the puddle. “Nah Lah?”
“Yes, Spike?”
The baby dragon put a claw in his mouth. “Twalah say. What fu—”
Velvet sighed. “Well, maybe I’m just overthinking it.” She inhaled deeply. “Maybe she’s just in bed and actually doing what I say for once.”
Celestia nodded in understanding. “But you’d like me to keep an eye out for her. Just in case.”
Velvet did her best impression of her daughter’s pussy-cat eyes. “Please?”
“Of course!” Celestia giggled, looking back into the school. “The health and well-being of my students is top priority. I’d rather them not get sick if it can be avoided.”
Velvet gave a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Sparkle,” the Princess said gleefully. Before she could say a proper goodbye, however, the subject in question had disappeared. Probably almost late to work, she figured, shrugging it off. She focused, lighting her horn, and split herself in two. Both versions of herself frowned. It’d be a little hard to focus on the lesson. But if she did something easy for the ponies that were already here, she’d be able to pull it off just fine.
Nodding to the other version of herself, she walked inside, as the other flew up and surveyed the school grounds.
Twilight galloped as fast as she could up the sidewalk, her breath tasting like she was chewing on a bit. She wished that she knew exactly how the teleportation spell worked, but she wasn’t quite there yet; being ripped to shreds in spacetime wasn’t quite appealing.
A sudden coughing fit forced her to slow down, each cough laced with croup. The spring weather was colder than she expected, and she shivered uncontrollably. She hated admitting it to herself, but Velvet was right: she should’ve stayed home. It wasn’t too late to turn back… however, she’d made a mess of the kitchen. She didn’t want to face the consequences of that in addition to having ran away in the first place.
So she continued walking, her coughing clearing up, but an exercise-induced headache pounded at her skull with a sledgehammer. It’s fine, it’s fine, she reassured herself as the school got closer and closer, until…
“Twilight Sparkle!”
Her heart skipped a beat. Or two. That was Princess Celestia! But it was five minutes till class! Why was she here?
The princess landed in front of her, stern eyes piercing through her soul. “I thought that you were supposed to be home, sick!”
Without anything to say, she hung her head. “I’m sorry, princess. But I can’t just miss class! Especially after such a long break!”
She heard the princess sigh. “Come with me. I’ll walk you back home.”
Twilight’s head shot back up to gawk at her, eyes wide. “B-but—!”
“No buts.”
The unicorn could feel the sting of tears coming to her eyes. “Okay,” she relented, wiping away her tears as she and the Princess walked back home. The first couple of minutes were spent in an awkward silence, a cough or a sneeze breaking it every now and again. Twilight made absolute sure that none of it got on the Princess though; she couldn’t get sick on the job!
“Twilight,” Celestia addressed, calmer. “I know that your studies are very important to you. You have been an exceptional student, and the others look up to you… even you’re two years younger than them.” She stopped in her tracks, putting a hoof under her chin.
Twilight reluctantly looked up, but wasn’t met by the same sternness as before. It was a soft expression, more motherly than anything else.
“But you can’t just disregard your health, either!” she continued. “Even if your cold doesn’t turn into something worse, you could get others sick as well, and they might not be able to come. In addition, you’ll be more ready to learn if you don’t have to battle this cold. Understood?”
The unicorn chuckled, wiping away another set of tears. “You sound like my mom.”
“Well, in a couple ways, I am,” Celestia said, smiling. “All my students are my children. It’s hard to not get attached, especially when they’re as kindhearted and dedicated as you.”
Twilight sniffed, backing away from Celestia’s hoof. She crossed her front legs. “So, you aren’t mad at me?”
“No, I’m not.” The alicorn pulled her into a loose hug. “Just a little concerned, that’s all.”
After the hug broke, the walk continued. A couple minutes later, they arrived, and the princess knocked on the door. It opened, and a soaked Night Light stood in the doorway. His disenchanted expression quickly changed to utter surprise as he took a knee. “P-Princess Celestia!”
“I’m just walking Twilight home,” she explained, waving a hoof in dismissal. “No formal business.”
Night Light stood back up. “Thank you.” His eyes fell to Twilight, and he shifted his weight to one side. “You are a hoof-full, you know that right?” He shook his head with a gentle smile.
Shame burning in her chest, Twilight locked her eyes to the ground. It didn’t help when Celestia scooted her forward with a wing, making her yelp at the sudden movement. “I’m sorry, dad,” she sniffed, crossing her hooves one in front of the other. She shook into another coughing fit.
She was yet again surprised when her dad’s aura surrounded her, bringing her to his chest. He wrapped a hoof around her. “It’s all right, hun,” he soothed, pulling her close. “We need to get you to bed, though. You were probably running all the way there, huh?”
“Yeah,” Twilight rasped. She looked behind her, only to see Celestia wave at her, and slowly dissipate into a hair off her mane. She smiled at herself. She should’ve figured.
It didn’t look like she caused too much damage, though, which surprised her. Her dad managed to fix the faucet. He pointed out that the parts were modular, and after he got out of the panic, it was a quick fix. He did bring up, however, that Spike did pick up on her swearing, which led to an awkward conversation, made more so from the toddlerese language barrier. They had a quick discussion on the importance of having clean language before she retired back to bed.
When mom came back from work, however, she was surprisingly entertained by the story. She wondered aloud how the cute the f bomb would sound coming from the little dragon. She came up to Twilight’s room later with noodle soup, repeating what she and Celestia had said.
“So,” Velvet announced from the side of the bed, slapping her hooves on her thighs, which made Twilight’s mattress bounce. “You think you’ll listen to me next time? Especially when I tell you to stay home when you’re sick?”
Twilight scrunched her muzzle in thought, eventually nodding. “Yeah…” she mumbled. She didn’t like the prospect, but if what Celestia said was anything to go by, she had to take care of herself before anything else.
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Absolutely?”
“Yes, mom.”
Velvet smiled. “That’s much better than this morning.” She bent down to kiss Twilight atop her head. “You eat that up, all right? It’ll help your congestion if only by a little.”
The foal nodded. “I will. Thanks mom.
“You’re welcome!” Velvet said. She stood, walking to the doorway. “Anyways, I’m going to talk to your dad a little bit more. If you need us, we’ll be downstairs, okay?”
“Okay.” Twilight shoveled a spoonful of the soup into her mouth. Its savory flavor tasted wonderful… well, whatever she could actually taste.
“Love you to pieces.”
“Love you to atoms.”
A few years later…
“Luuuuuunnnnnaaaaaaa!!!” Celestia rasped, coughing. She was plugged up to dangerous levels, her throat feeling like she’d swallowed a thistle.
“Whaaaaaaattt?” her sister cried.
“Could you get me some teeeeaaaaa?” she called, adjusting the sack of ice atop her head.
“Whyyyyy? It is not my fault that Twilight got you sick!”
“But I didn’t know!!” she exclaimed. “Why do alicorn colds have such a long incubation perio-hu-huuuuuddd?!”