//------------------------------// // Day 12 // Story: No Heroes: Life of Pie // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// “So, where are you going next?” Pinkie latched onto the question, pronking around Sunflower. The fact that the mare was already hitched to her wagon was no impediment to the ‘around’ part. “Oh, oh, Canterlot? Las Pegasus? Vanhoover? Hoofington? The Thestral tribes? Thunderhead? Seaddle? Grypha? Canterlot High? Bridle Falls? Cloudsdale? Estéril Pezuñas?” She jerked to a stop when Fine’s magic caught her tail, and Sunflower promptly pressed a hoof to her lips. The magician giggled. “Home. It’s about time I visited Mom and Dad.” Pinkie pulled her face away, the hoof leaving her lips with a loud ‘pop’. “Aww, I was just about to guess Manehattan.” Fine patted her withers, then shifted to tugging her in for a one-legged hug. The close contact brought an involuntary but entirely welcome smile to her face. Every time he demonstrated a public openness to their relationship it sent little warm Fluttershies twirling around in her heart. He turned his attention back to a beaming Sunflower. “If you ever feel like visiting, you know where to find us. Most of the time, at least. Our respective jobs tend to keep us travelling.” “I’ll be sure to send you a letter if I’m ever heading to Ponyville.” Sunflower looked from him to Pinkie and back. A smile seemed to have been permanently grafted onto her face. “I still can’t believe how close you two have become since you got to Rockstead. You’re so cute together.” Fine promptly nuzzled Pinkie behind her ear, making her giggle. “It was touch and go there for a while,” he said, “but I think we’ll be okay now.” Smirking, Pinkie winked at Sunflower and added, “There’ll be a lot less ‘go’ and a lot more ‘touch’ from now on. I’m sure he’s picked some nice, quiet, shadowy, out-of-the-way places for some quality face-sucking time.” The choking sound he made got both the mares tittering. She looked up to see his face all red and his eyes darting around the park. Pecking him on the chin, she added, “You’re so cute when flustered.” “He really is.” Sunflower took a moment to adjust her harness. Her smile grew subdued. “This trip didn’t go at all how I expected. I’m glad I got to meet you again, Fine. I never thought I’d get the chance to thank you properly.” “The pleasure was all mine, Little…” Fine paused. He glanced at Pinkie, a question in his eyes. The Fluttershies did an encore. They must be cooking too, because Pinkie felt warm all over. She nodded before leaning against him, content in his presence. He gave her a squeeze, then turned his attention back to the magician. “The pleasure was all mine, Little Miss. It’s good to know you’ve come so far since Horseshoe Park. Good to know that even back then, I was able to do something right by somepony.” He was smiling at Sunflower. Sunflower was smiling back. It was all warm and sweet and gooey and made the Fluttershies very happy. Pinkie glanced between them a few times before asking, perfectly serious, “You two need a moment?” It was Sunflower who answered, rubbing her leg as she averted her eyes. “No. I think I’m good. Come here.” At her gesture, Pinkie approached and accepted a tight hug. “Take care of my Shadow Pony, okay?” Grinning, Pinkie nuzzled the mare’s shoulder. “I’ll try, but you know how slippery shadow ponies are.” “If anypony can keep up with him, it’s you.” She let go, and Pinkie begrudgingly returned to her colt’s side. “Fine, don’t let her run you ragged.” He snorted and smirked. “Thanks, you just gave her a challenge. Now I’m doomed.” “Don’t worry,” Pinkie sing-songed, flicking his flank with her tail. “I’ll go easy on him. At first.” “As long as there’s something left in there for me to talk to when I come by to visit.” Chuckling, Sunflower started for the park’s exit. “Goodbye, you two. I’ll write soon.” “So long, Little Miss.” “Bye, Sunflower. Have fun visiting your parents. And don’t forget, every magician needs fireworks!” Pinkie didn’t stop waving until the wagon was out of sight among the trees. She heard Fine sigh and turned to find a melancholic smile on his lips. “You alright?” “Yeah.” He turned from the exit and started walking. No attempt was made to hide the moisture in his eyes. “I just can’t decide on whether I regret leaving her alone all these years. On the one hoof, watching her grow might have been a boon for my sense of self-worth. On the other, it might have led to her getting tangled up in Archon business, and I’d have never forgiven myself for it.” That did sound like a dilemma. Pinkie bounced to his other side and pressed against him with a giddy smile. “It’s all over and done, right? No need to worry about that now. Everything turned out okay.” He considered this, not losing that little smile. He remained that way for a while, but Pinkie was sure he’d figure it out. She devoted herself to staying nestled against him and delighting in his scent. Who knew that the mere act of being close to somepony could make her so happy? She’d be pronking like a madmare if it weren’t for the fact that it would deprive her of this contact. They were nearly out of the park when Fine nuzzled her head. “You’re right, it was for the better. Thanks, Pinkie.” “No problem.” She raised her chin expectantly. “That’ll cost you one kiss.” He didn’t hesitate to oblige, and her fetlocks curled at the contact. They held that blissful position for as long as they could, only pulling back when air became a necessity. As they continued their walk, Pinkie said, “I like the kissing game. Nopony loses.” “I’m partial to it, myself.” Fine’s smile lost some of its luster. He glanced at her out the corner of his eye. “So. We’ve got a couple days left. What’s on the agenda?” Her ears folded back at his hesitant tone. She knew exactly what he was really asking. It was nice of him to leave the decision up to her, though. Her hooves came to a stop, too leaden to take her any further, and her head lowered as if a weight had fallen upon it. She closed her eyes and saw that pale pony with her mane hiding her face. Watching her. It wasn’t over. It wouldn’t be over until… “Pinkie?” She shook her head. The image faded, but the sense of being watched didn’t go away. Opening her eyes, she stared at her hooves. “W-we came here to open up to one another. Truly. No more secrets. No more hiding. But…” She raised her head to look into his rosewood eyes. Those loving, worried eyes. “You’ll be with me the whole time? N-never leave my side?” He stepped forward to press his forehead to hers. “Discord himself couldn’t pry me away.” She tried to smile. It hurt too much. “I keep telling you to stop tempting him like that.” He hummed, resting his forelegs on her withers and pulling her close. “If you don’t want to do this, I won’t make you.” “But you want me to,” she whispered. “I do.” She sucked in a deep breath. Another. They kept coming, slow, steady. A battle against nerves. She jumped when he pressed against her side. A glance at his face showed patience. Not concern. Just patience and, far worse, trust. If she said no, he wouldn’t press her… but he would be disappointed. Could she refuse that handsome, faithful face? If she didn’t, then she’d have to deal with… This was what it was all about. All the memories, all the nightmares, all the visions. It all came down to this. And deep down, Pinkie knew that if she didn’t do it now she never would. The rest of her life would be spent thinking about this moment, this failure. Would she lose Fine over this? Not now, but in the future? If the nightmares grew worse, if She followed her back to Ponyville… It had to be done. She knew it. As much as the thought chilled her blood, it was now or never. “L-let’s go.” She tried to walk. Her legs wouldn’t move. “I could use a push.” He gave a faint chuckle and stepped back. “If you buck me for touching your flank, I will be very cross with you.” He tapped her cutie mark playfully, then wrapped a leg around her withers and pulled her forward. She didn’t budge at first, but he gradually increased the pressure until her legs started moving. “My ribs would never forgive you.” The attempt to lighten the mood was appreciated, even if it had little effect. “Take the short way,” she whispered, pressing her face to his shoulder so as to block her sight. “I want to get it over with quickly.” “Alright. It’s gonna be okay. I promise.” She shook her head against his fur. “What have I told you about making promises you can’t keep?” “You can do this,” he replied, and the confidence in his words was as solid as rock. She wished she shared it. She didn’t look up, didn’t dare to see how close they were coming. It would be a while yet. “I want…” His warm breath tickled her ear. “Yes? Tell me.” Her heart pattered at the pleasant sensation. “I want you to take me right to the… to the barn. I d-don’t want to look. If I look I might back out. Please, don’t give me the opportunity.” He didn’t reply. For a time, things were quiet beyond their hoofsteps. Every now and then Pinkie’s ears perked to other sounds; ponies talking to one another, wagon wheels in the dirt, birds singing overhead. An average, pleasant day. The ground felt solid beneath her hooves. Idly, she realized it hadn’t rained once since they’d arrived. She had to wonder if the local weather team was planning a storm soon. Distractions. That’s all they were. She forced her mind in so many different directions, not caring what those directions were so long as they weren’t aimed at Her. If she didn’t think about it, she wouldn’t freeze. She could do this. She just had to not think. Stop thinking, Pinkamena. Please… Fine’s voice broke through her melancholic, idle thoughts. “I want you to know something.” She shifted, but kept her face pressed firmly against his shoulder. “Hmm?” The feel of his hoof through her mane sent warm tingles through her scalp. “No matter what happens today, I am so very proud of you.” Proud. Somehow, she managed to smile. Fine was proud of her. She wasn’t sure if it was enough to help her through this, but she gladly used the pleasant heat wave the words granted her and shielded her heart against the cold. “Th-thank you.” She let her mental highway run free for a while, inviting all the Fluttershies and Rainbow Dashes and Rarities — everypony she knew, really — to run amok. Wow, but she knew a lot of ponies. And nonponies. She ran facts and dates through her mind, birthdays and anniversaries and birthiversaries and party dates and client preferences and favorite colors and a million other things. So much information, sometimes she wondered how she stored it all. It seemed even Pinkie Pie didn’t understand all the ways of the Pinkie Pie. Through all the rummaging around her cavernous cranium, the work came to a stop when she noticed a peculiar tidbit missing from her collection. “I don’t know your birthday.” He said nothing, and she wasn’t about to pull her face from his body and risk seeing how close they were to their destination. After a while, he replied, “I’m not surprised. Archons tend to keep quiet about such personal things.” Her ears perked. “About birthdays? What would be so bad about sharing that?” “You never know.” He gave her a slight push to change their direction. The ground was still hard, so she knew they were still on a road. “Only so many foals are born on a given day. There’s a pool of potential identities for extra study.” She understood his point. It didn’t take much for her to realize how far one could go with just a birthday, an age, and the right sources of information. Medical records, school records, police records. It would be a lot of names to comb through, but with the right kind of super-organized, determined pony… Twilight would have been able to do it. “So why not delete the records?” He answered easily, as if the topic had been long engrained within his mind. “Because it’s not feasible. The odds of missing something are high. You can’t realistically wipe out all the data proving a pony exists. If you could, it would require significant resources. Agents planted in the bureaucracies, a constant set of eyes on the databases, things of that nature. It all costs money and horsepower, and while we aren’t hurting for one, we are certainly limited in both. Why go through all of that when we can instead train each one of us to just not say anything?” She thought about that for a while, trying to imagine it from his perspective. “So the risk is worth it?” “You can’t manage everything,” he admitted, though his glum manner suggested he wished otherwise. “Eventually one has to realize what is and isn’t within the scope of reality.” A moment’s pause. His muzzle tickled her ear. His next words were a faint whisper. “It’s September thirtieth, by the way.” She pulled back to stare into his rosewood eyes, a smile growing on her lips. He smiled back, warm and trusting. That smile sent the Fluttershies into a frenzy of activity so intense it melted her heart and made her legs feel like putty. She promptly gave him a kiss, delighting in the pressure as he returned the motion. When it was over she buried her face in his coat again and sighed in contentment. She didn’t need any distractions. This little feeling within was all she needed. Focusing on that blissful moment of trust was enough to take Pinkie’s mind out of the fight for a long while. She spent it wondering what she would do for his birthday. A party, obviously, but a private one. A party for two. Fine wouldn’t want his birthday spread around, after all. Unless they used a fake date, but then it would be a fake birthday party, and he deserved the real thing. Pinkie was a professional and wouldn’t settle for anything less. What would Fine like for his private birthday party? Cake? Games? Not his style. Cozying up with a good book? Cozying… Yes… That could work. Perhaps they could discuss that story he suggested they work together on. They could settle down on a couch, snuggled up close, whispering in the shadows that made Fine so comfortable. Maybe she could wear that dress Rarity made. Then again, maybe she could ask Rarity to make a different kind of dress. Maybe one with a saddle. The very idea warmed her face and made the Fluttershies hide behind their manes in embarrassment. Oh, but the Rarites were giving her that predatory grin she sometimes gets when ponies talk about special someponies within earshot. For once, Pinkie grinned back. When she finally surfaced from her little affection high (Highfection?), the first thing she noticed was the dirt under her hooves. It was like getting splashed in the face with ice water. “F-Fine? Are we getting close?” Fine, his tone airy, asked, “Do you really want me to answer that?” After a second or two of considering the pros and cons, she replied, “I guess not.” “Didn’t think so.” His hoof ran through her mane before scratching lightly under her ear. She hummed with pleasure as her fear dropped off some. “What did you decide you wanted to do for my birthday?” She giggled. “You know me so well.” Then, in a sing-song voice, added, “Not telling.” “Aww, come on,” he whispered playfully in her ear. “Just a little hint?” “Eeenope,” she fired back in her best Big McIntosh impression. “You don’t get to open your present until it’s time, young colt.” “How cruel.” He nuzzled her forehead. “I just hope it’s something soft, smells of strawberries, and tastes like bubblegum.” Whoop, the Fluttershies were hiding again. She giggled and faux-slapped his side. “Somepony is thinking naughty thoughts.” “It’s not my fault you make it so easy.” Then he stopped moving. The motion crumbled the wall of happiness that had been building up to this point, because she knew it could only mean one thing. She pressed herself even tighter against his side, whimpering and silently begging for him to continue moving. His voice came back, comforting and sturdy. “You don’t have to do this.” She kept breathing through his fur. Trying to build up some of that wall again. The little ponies on her mental highway even got out of their transports and tried to help, a multihued construction crew fighting to shore up the weaknesses and seal off the holes. Slowly, so very slowly, she pulled her face from Fine’s shoulder and looked forward. Now if she could just open her eyes… She did, and she blinked. They were on the farm, but before them was a wall of darkness. A moment of confusion passed as she looked around to find that, yes, they were standing on the familiar hard landscape just past her old home. She looked to the wall of black and trembled. “Y-you shouldn’t have done that.” “Sorry,” he whispered. He at least sounded sincere. Fine looked at her, but she was too focused on the blackness and what she knew lay just beyond it. “I’m going to drop it. Are you ready?” “Don’t ask me that just do it do it now before I lose my nerve.” She could already feel her hind legs itching to move. “Please please please do it.” The shadow dropped, and before her was the open barn door. Her body seemed to freeze in place and her throat tightened. She tried to move, to run away, but something held her forelegs firm. Out the corner of her eye, she noticed Fine’s horn aglow and thought she knew why she couldn’t move. She couldn’t even hope to tell him how grateful she was for it. Through no small effort, Pinkie worked to focus on what was before her. Which was nothing. No creepy ghosties with long pale manes staring back at her. Just an empty barn. Perfectly empty. Nothing would harm her. “It’s f-fine,” she whispered to herself. “It’s all gonna be ok-kay.” Sucking in slow, sharp breaths, she traced the interior with her eyes. “G-giggle at the ghosties. That’s all I gotta do.” Fine’s hoof ran along her back in gentle strokes. “It’s okay, Pinkie,” he whispered. “You’re doing good.” “Doing good,” she whispered. The words echoed in her skull, dragging forth unwanted memories. Memories, and a younger, lighter voice that said those same words. “D-doing good.” You’re doing good, sis. Come on, this way! “Th-this way…” She walked forward, slowly, as the world changed. She was an itty-bitty, little-wittle Twinkie-Pinkie again, galloping on her tiny legs for the barn. She paused at the door and turned around to see another filly, just as tiny, approaching at a shuffle. “Marble…” Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. I know Momma and Papa said we can’t go in, but it’s just gonna be for a second. “No,” she whispered, watching as the ghostly filly approached. Marble paused to look back at the dark house through the night. “Don’t go in. P-please.” Fine watched her from a safe distance, solemn and patient. Come on, Marble. Please? Limestone said this game’s a ton of fun, but she’s too big to play it with us. Chewing on the tip of her hoof, Pinkie watched as the filly hesitated some more, but finally came closer. Bouncing in place, Pinkie waited for her quiet twin to reach the threshold of the barn door before wrapping her in a hug. “Oh, thank you, thank you, sis! I promise, we’re gonna have so much fun. Come on.” Momma and Papa always said little fillies couldn’t go into the barn. The last thing Pinkie wanted to do was make them angry, but what else was she supposed to do? Marble wouldn’t go far from the house. How was Pinkie going to get her to do things if she was so afraid of being outside? And the dark, which was admittedly a little scary. But if they went during the day they’d be caught, and then what? It had to be at night. Once freed from Pinkie’s grasp, Marble stared at the ground. Or, more specifically, at the invisible line marking the boundaries of ‘inside’ and ‘outside’ the barn. Her little legs trembled. “Don’t worry, Marble.” Pinkie nuzzled her, speaking in a whisper. “Momma and Papa won’t find out.” Violet eyes met hers, pleading. “We won’t get in trouble. I promise.” Still, the filly hesitated. She glanced back at the house as if expecting their parents to be glaring at them through the windows. Finally, she dared to move one hoof into the barn. The moment it touched the ground, she pulled it back and jerked her head around to check the house once again. Seeing no looming threats of parental proportions, she tentatively walked all the way in. “Good. You’re doing good, Marble.” Pinkie knew she had to keep being encouraging. She understood her sister’s fear, but this was for her sake. If she never left the house or their mother, when would she ever have fun? Marble needed to have fun, and Pinkie could only do so much in there. So she kept whispering encouragements. She kept pushing her sister to come outside and do things. And if that meant breaking Momma and Papa’s rules every now and then… “Ooh, this is going to be so much fun! I mean, I haven’t played it before but Limestone says it’s fun but that might be just because she’s really good at it but hey, I bet you’ll be good at it too!” Pinkie bounced further into the barn. It was so very dark inside, but that was fine. She was fine. Giggle at the ghosties. They didn’t have to go far inside. Limestone, Maud, and their parents would store geodes in the barn when they were ready for harvesting. Pinkie had watched them do it before. Tons of rocks that when busted contained shiny, glittery pretties. Or some just contained gems, which were also shiny and glittery and pretty, but not as neato as geodes. The nearest pile was like a pyramid, and perfect for her purposes. She hopped onto the side of the pile and turned to grin at her gradually approaching sibling. “The game is ‘Princess of the Mountain’. Ponies try to get to the top. First pony to stay there for fifteen seconds wins. Fun!” Marble came to a stop at the bottom of the pile, skepticism clear on her face. She tapped a hoof against a lone rock, which wobbled and fell from its perch. She shrank back at its sudden drop. Pinkie giggled and hopped down to her sister’s side. “Don’t be scared. We’ll be fine! Let’s go.” She crawled up the pile of rocks, ignoring how they trembled under her weight. “Uh-oh, I’m getting a head start. I’m gonna wi~in!” Marble watched her climb, then glanced back at the barn door. Already a quarter of the way up, Pinkie turned to pout at the filly below. “Come on, Marble. Please?” When her sister failed to move, Pinkie climbed a little more. She was about halfway up the pile now. “Look, I’m getting closer! You don’t want to lose, right?” When even this goading failed to achieve anything, Pinkie knew she was reaching the edge of Marble’s limits. She thought on a potential solution, looking between her twin and the top of the pile. “O~okay. I’m gonna sit down here.” She made a show of plopping her rump among the rocks, wiggling and squirming to get comfortable. A few more stones rolled down noisily. “Can you climb up here, Marble? Please? Just that much, and I promise we’ll go to bed.” Marble squinted through the darkness. Her hooves remained firmly rooted to the ground. “I’ll let you have my cupcake tomorrow.” Pinkie didn’t know if their mom was going to make cupcakes for dessert tomorrow, but that was beside the point. Marble’s ears perked. Her eyes trailed up and down the pile of rocks. After a few seconds, during which Pinkie was struggling to think of something else to get her sister to do something new, the little grey filly finally started to climb. She moved with extreme slowness, picking her way up the pile one hoofstep at a time. Pinkie felt her lips splitting into a grin. “That’s right, Marble. Come on, you can do it!” She kept cheering, keeping quiet only so as to keep anypony in the house from hearing her and waking up. Her little heart fluttered with pride as her sibling made her quiet, shaky way up the pile. After what seemed like an age, Marble at last reached her side. The filly, trembling and with eyes frequently darting to the barn door, forced herself to settle on her flanks in the rocks. A lone chunk the size of her hoof broke off and clattered its way to the bottom. Pinkie gave her a tender, one-legged hug and spoke in a whisper. “You did it. Don’t you feel brave?” Marble shook her head, ears flopped downwards and shoulders hunched. “Well, you are. You’re a very brave Marble Pie. The bravest Pie of all.” Though she continued to shiver, Marble managed a quivering smile and blushed. “Think you could go more up?” Marble’s eyes shot wide open and the shaking of her head this time was frantic. Pinkie giggled and nodded. “Ready to come down?” At her sibling’s eager nodding, she stood up. “Okay. We’ll get all snuggly wuggly in our beds. Tomorrow you can have my cupcake. Sound good?” She offered her hoof to her twin, who regained her smile and took it. Pinkie Pie, feeling so very good about herself, took her first step down. The rock she touched rolled away, and she fell forward with a yelp. She tried to find her hooves, but the rocks were starting to cascade in an avalanche and she couldn’t find a steady place to stand. She heard a weak cry and looked up to see Marble scrambling for purchase as more and more rocks collapsed from under them! Before Pinkie knew it, she was tumbling and rolling down the pile. Something heavy banged against the side of her head, and stars flashed in her vision. She landed on her stomach, hard. Before she could even think of trying to get up, rocks began to pile on top of her. A particularly heavy one smacked into the small of her back, knocking the air from her lungs. She lay there, dazed and struggling to breathe. As the last of the rocks rolled to a stop, she began to take stock of her situation. Her body was weighed down by the heavy stones and her breathing came only with intense effort. It was as though somepony had put her chest in a vice! She tried to move, but only one foreleg was free from the pile and it wasn’t strong enough to pull her loose. She was trapped. She could barely breathe. And deep down, Pinkie could feel the first inklings of fear rising up. She lifted her head, noticed the blood her cheek had left on the floor. Her heart thudded in her ears as she sucked down hard, working to get precious air into herself. “M-Marble?” Her voice was weak. Why was her voice so weak? “Marble, help me.” Her eyes darted about the room, her head swiveled. Her heart thrust its way into her throat. Marble lay on her back not three feet away. The rocks were piled high on her all the way to her chest. Her tiny hooves kicked futilely against them as her jaw worked soundlessly. Wide purple eyes, shimmering with tears, met hers. Marble’s mouth worked with a silence that pierced Pinkie’s brain. She forced air out of her lungs, ignoring the stinging needles in her chest as she did. “Marble. Marble. B-breathe.” The little grey filly kicked at the stones, but they wouldn’t budge. She was just too small, and they were just so heavy. Pinkie reached for her, thinking maybe she could help, but her hoof couldn’t reach that far no matter how much she stretched. Marble’s mouth opened wide. It was silent, but Pinkie knew she had to be screaming. Tears built in Pinkie’s eyes as she struggled. She pushed against the ground, but couldn’t pick herself up. She tried to knock the rocks off her back, but they remained rooted. She sucked in sharp breaths as Marble’s squirming grew more frantic. “Help. Help. Momma. Papa. Maud, Limestone, somepony. Help.” Her cries were little more than a whisper, nowhere near enough to reach the farmhouse. Already she was too out of breath to keep trying. Pinkie brushed the tears from her eyes and struggled not to sob. Sobbing cost air. She needed air to call for help. Marble’s head fell back. Her flailing slowed. She looked to Pinkie, her eyes pleading, her pupils so small. She reached for her elder twin. Pinkie reached back. Their hooves couldn’t quite touch. Pinkie pawed at the dirt, fighting for that last inch. “I’m sorry, Marble. I’m sorry. Please, breathe.” Marble’s face was blue. Her eyes were rolling back. The hissing, straining sound that barely reached Pinkie’s ears was all she could muster. “Breathe. Please, Marble. Breathe. You can do it. You can.” Marble started to convulse. Pinkie sobbed and pulled at the dirt, knowing it was useless. If she could just touch her! But Marble wasn’t reaching for her anymore. “Help us. Somepony, please. Momma.” Clenching her eyes closed, Pinkie focused on breathing. Short, quick breaths. Longer intakes. Quick outtakes. If she built up her air, maybe she could cry out properly. Maybe. All Marble needed was one good scream. She concentrated so hard, fighting through the daggers in her chest, clenching her leg close to herself. She could feel the pressure in her chest. She had enough, didn’t she? This would do it! She opened her mouth wide and let it all out in a single cry. “Help us.” And that was it. She let her cheek hit the ground, exhausted and blinded by tears. It was good enough, wasn’t it? It had sounded so quiet, but…but somepony had heard, hadn’t they? “Somepony’s coming. Okay? Marble, they…” She brushed her tears away and looked to her sibling. Marble was still. Her wide eyes gazed at nothing. Her lips didn’t move. “Marble?” Pinkie reached for her sibling. “Breathe. Marble? Sis?” Marble remained still. “S-stop it. It’s not funny.” A long, quiet silence. ”Marble?” Why wasn’t she moving? Marble should be moving. Pinkie stretched her leg as far as she could, try to touch that unmoving hoof. But no matter how hard she tried, she just… couldn’t. Something cold and hard found its way into Pinkie’s guts. Slowly, she retracted her hoof. A heavy, unnatural wrongness swept over her. Pinkie started kicking at the ground once more, her eyes going to the ceiling, the dirt, the barn door. Anywhere but the horribly still form of her sister. “Mommy? Help. P-please. Help Marble. Somepony. A-anypony…” She kept calling. She kept crying. Even as her throat grew raw. Even as her eyes became sore from rubbing and her chest felt like it was on fire. She pleaded and begged and sobbed, but no matter what she did, the farmhouse remained dark. At last she let her cheek fall back to the ground, too tired and hurting to continue. She stared at Marble’s pale form. Marble stared right back with still, lifeless eyes. A silence descended upon the barn, as heavy as the rocks weighing her down. Gradually, the sights faded. The rock piles disappeared, mere fabrications of the mind, and the weight on her back was gone. Pinkie rubbed her eyes and looked to Marble, still but a little filly on the floor. Lifeless. Breathless. She waited for that image to fade, too. It didn’t. Pinkie’s ears perked. In her peripheral vision, she noticed Fine approaching, but she had no time for him now. Now there was only that tiny grey body, sitting alone in the dirt just like she’d been all that long, horrible night. Swallowing did nothing to ease her dry throat as she took a slow step closer to examine the body. Wide, sightless eyes gazed at nothing. “M… Marble?” The eyes met hers. Pinkie’s jaw opened wide, but nothing came out of her throat save a faint hiss. The filly on the ground stood up and began to grow. One leg morphed out to be hideously long, then her back twisted as the bones crackled and realigned themselves. Another leg. An ear exploded in size. The eyes, still wide, still empty of life, never left Pinkie’s as the misshapen creature turned to her. Pinkie felt her bladder emptying. She retreated, knees knocking, head shaking, but couldn’t tear her eyes away from that pallid face. Her voice found its way out of her taut throat. “No. No no no.” Another leg began to grow. The filly’s mane billowed out in a blast of hair and wind, falling down to cover Marble’s face. She opened her mouth, but only a frail whistling, barely enough to be audible, met Pinkie’s ears. With a final crack of growing bone and muscle, a full-sized mare of pale greys stood between Pinkie and the barn door. She took a step closer. Now Pinkie screamed. Ice filled her veins and her heart slammed into her throat. She flung herself back from the specter as it took yet another sharp, focused step. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Marble, please!” Another step. Pinkie’s flank hit the wall. She pressed tight against it and clenched her eyes shut. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to!” “Pinkie!” She cracked her eye open as Fine stood beside her. Marble was still coming, her wide violet eyes just visible behind her loose-hanging mane. “It’s okay, Pinkie.” “I killed her!” Clamping her eyes closed once more, Pinkie dropped to her knees and buried her face in her fetlocks. “I killed her and now she’s coming for me. I didn’t mean it, I didn’t. I swear I didn’t!” “Pinkie, please…” “I shouldn’t have made you come out that night! I only meant to help you. I was j-just trying to be a good sister!” She dared a peek through her tear-blurred eyes. The pale apparition was as clear as the full moon on a cloudless night, and still coming closer. She was only a dozen feet away. “I know it’s my fault. I know! I tried, sis, I tried so hard, but the rocks were so heavy and I-I just couldn’t. I couldn’t!” Another step. “M-Marble!” “Pinkie,” Fine spoke into her ear, his voice soothing. “You were only a child.” “That’s no excuse!” She shoved him away and turned to face Marble directly. “Is it, Marble? It’s no excuse! I should have realized how unstable it was, I should have let you go back to bed, I should have listened when Momma and Papa told us we couldn’t go into the barn, but I didn’t! I was a bad filly!” Marble paused, her pale face only a foot away from Pinkie’s. Those wild, sightless eyes stared into Pinkie and left her feeling so horribly, distressingly small. Pinkie trembled. Those hissing, raspy things weren’t breaths, but they were the only sound her dear sister could make. She rubbed her eyes and bowed her head, but couldn’t tear her gaze away from those violet orbs. “I w-was a bad filly, Marble. And you died. Because I was bad.” Dropping to her haunches, Pinkie sobbed. “And I kept being bad. I couldn’t stop. I wanted to, I wanted to so much. B-but I c-couldn’t stop. Why couldn’t I stop? M-Momma. Papa. Maud and L-Limestone. Surprise. I didn’t want to be a bad filly.” Silence, as heavy as that terrible night. Not even the pained whistling of a desperate throat. Pinkie’s heart thudded, her breaths came slow and labored. She could feel the chill of her sister radiating against her flesh, sending goosebumps up and down her body. Her legs twitched, eager to get her out of this horrible, terrible place, but she fought them back. She wouldn’t run. She deserved whatever Marble intended to do to her. “Pinkie Pie?” Fine was there. At her side once more. He ignored Marble entirely. Pinkie, in turn, ignored him. She watched as her specter of a sibling closed her eyes in a slow blink. When they opened again, they were no longer the lifeless, cold things she’d come to know. They locked onto hers, alive and aware and thoughtful. They were like beacons in the dark. “Pinkie.” Fine’s leg wrapped around her shoulder. “Do you really think Marble hates you for what you did?” “She does,” Pinkie whispered. “Don’t you, Marble?” The spirit tilted her head quizzically. “She’s your sister,” Fine whispered into her ear. “Family forgives.” “Limestone didn’t.” Marble’s eyes narrowed. Pinkie flinched back. “She didn’t.” “And what about Marble?” He pressed, ever gentle. “Was she the kind to hold a grudge?” “We were three,” she hissed back. “We didn’t understand.” Marble moved closer. Pinkie’s breath caught in her throat as a wave of cold washed over her. “M-Marble, I…” “Neither would you.” “I knew you were dying! I should have known it was dangerous!” “But you didn’t.” “But I—” “You were three.” “I…” Marble’s forehead touched Pinkie’s, sending ice coursing through her skull. Pinkie shivered as fog rose from her breath. “Do you think you should be forgiven?” Those purple pools were Pinkie’s entire world. “S-Sis?” “Whose forgiveness do you really need?” Her sibling’s hooves reached out, and Pinkie tensed up with a quiet cry. But they didn’t go for her throat, no. They went around her withers, pulling her in for a tight, frigid hug. For a time, Pinkie could only stare over her sibling’s shoulder and let the cold chill of death seep into her bones. “Marble!” She wrapped the mare in an embrace and sobbed into her shoulder. “You were too good, always too good, and I’ll never ever in a million bajillion years be able to forgive myself for what I did to you. I’m sorry. I’d give up everything, parties and cake and laughter and joy. I’d get rid of it all if we could just trade places.” She was hushed, gently, kindly. “It’s okay, Pinkie. Everything’s going to be okay.” She sniffled in that cool, grey mane. “I don’t know how to be okay, Sis. I just don’t know.” Slowly, the icy touch of Marble’s body faded. With every second that passed, Pinkie felt more and more warm. “It’s over now, Pinkie. You don’t have to punish yourself anymore.” “B-but I… But I…!” “Hush. None of that, now.” As the frigidness shrank, she imagined it sinking deep within her. Merging with her soul. It felt so… good. Better than she deserved. She knew what it meant, knew it was not something that should be happening. “Marble…” If her sister wanted this… “I’ll try. I Pinkie P-Promise, I’ll try. B-but it’s so hard.” “That’s why you have me with you. Always. I’ll be here, Pinkie.” And Pinkie believed it. She believed because she had faith in her little sister, and because she owed it to her. It was strange, how empty and full she felt at the same time, like her heart was going to explode then crash back into itself. It was utterly confusing, but she held on tight and trusted her sibling to see her through. Pressing her face against Marble’s neck, she wept. Fine lay beside Pinkie, pressed tight against her as he brushed her mane. He’d been like this for almost two hours now, watching her sleep and listening to her quiet breaths. With no idea what he’d just witnessed, he’d held her until she’d fallen unconscious. The last few hours had been spent quietly contemplating his new marefriend. So accustomed to the calm of the day, her abrupt awakening startled him. One second she was nuzzling his shoulder, the next she’d sat up and begun looking around as if expecting to see something. “M-Marble?” “Nope.” He sat up and smiled at her wide-eyed stare. “Just me.” A few seconds of owlish gazing later, Pinkie shook herself as if jarred by a static shock. Ears drooping, she set a hoof to her chest and stared at it. “Right. She’s… Right.” He leaned a little closer, trying to catch her eye. “Are you alright?” “I’m… I don’t know.” Lowering her hoof, she took a more measured look at her surroundings. “I think so. What happened?” “Well…” He hesitated. The truth was that he didn’t know. “You started panicking. And talking. Then crying. Then you fell asleep.” At her nonplussed look, he shrugged. “You asked.” “And Marble?” She cast another quick look around. “What happened to my sister?” He set a hoof to her shoulder. “You’d know better than me. I think.” Another doe-eyed stare. Then, gradually, a warm smile formed on her lips. She folded her forelegs to her chest and sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.” A moment of quiet passed between them. Fine rubbed the back of his head, wondering if she was going to let him in on whatever she knew. When the silence started to get awkward—at least for him—he asked, “So… Gotta ask again. You alright?” “No,” she replied, not losing her smile. “but I think I’m on my way.” She leaned forward and nuzzled him, her strawberry scent tickling his nostrils. “Thanks, Fine.” He blinked, caught between enjoying her touch and trying to understand her words. “For what?” “Everything. For just… being here.” She pulled away and stood. Once more, her eyes roamed the barn, but this time it appeared she was taking in the barn itself rather than looking for something specific. She stepped past him and wandered, occasionally pawing at the floor as if reminded of something. “You know, I never went in here after Marble… died.” Her face twisted into a grimace, but only for a second. “This is my first time getting a good look at it.” He stood and followed her at a distance. “It doesn’t bother you, being here?” “Not anymore. I mean, it’s still weird. And… kinda scary.” She turned to him, still possessing that little smile he liked so much. “My sister died here, y’know? And I had to…” The smile faded. Pinkie stared at her hooves. “I was stuck in here for the whole night with Marble’s dead body almost within hoof’s reach. A whole night. It w-was terrible. I didn’t sleep a wink. I couldn’t. And the nightmares… Oh, Fine, the nightmares were so bad.” She sucked in a long, slow breath, closed her eyes, and raised her head high. When her eyes opened again, they were determined. “But Marble doesn’t want me to spend the rest of my life trapped in that night. So I’m going to try to move on. I don’t know why, but it doesn’t feel so…” She paused, working her lips. Her eyes lost their seriousness and went cross. “There’s a word. A big word. A Twilight Sparkle word. It means hard. In… Insulational?” Fine couldn’t help but grin. “Insurmountable?” She beamed. “Yeah, that’s the one! It doesn’t feel insurmountable anymore.” “I’m glad to hear it.” He stepped forward, then paused as he thought on her words. He frowned. “A ‘Twilight Sparkle’ word? Why couldn’t it be a ‘Fine Crime’ word? Or a ‘Verity Fine’ word?” Pinkie giggled and booped his nose. “Sorry, Peepee. You might be a smart writer pony, but I think Twilight’s got a much bigger vocabulary. Heck, I bet she’s got several vocabularies. She’s vocabularitastic.” He wrinkled his nose at her touch before rubbing his chin in thought. “Maybe I can challenge her somehow. Prove I’m the more vocabularistic pony.” “Vocabularitastic,” she corrected primly. “And it’s not a competition, Verity.” Then she noticed his stare and began to fidget. “What? Do I have something on my face?” He let his ears droop as he asked, “Is this a mask? Are you really feeling better, or are you just trying to make me think so?” Her eyebrows shot up, but only for a moment. Her expression grew somber, even with the small smile. Nuzzling him gently, she replied, “I told you, no more masks. You get all of me. The whole package.” “So you are feeling better? Truly?” “I know it seems sudden,” she admitted, brushing her curls back bashfully. “But it’s real. I had a little talk with my sister, y’know? I might not be sunshine and rainbows yet, but rainbows won’t light up the sky unless you let it rain. I think my stormclouds are finally moving on. Though it’ll take a little more time for me to sort through all the feelings.” Fine couldn’t describe the rising feeling in his chest. It was a little like that first night together, only without leaving him breathless and hot. He moved to stand beside her, pressing tight against her form and crossing his neck over hers. “I’ll be here to help wash away the puddles.” She returned the pressure. “I know you will. That’s one of the reasons I love you; you’d never let anypony down.” “Not if I can help it.” His ears perked to a familiar pattering sound. It came from the barn’s roof. A glance towards the door revealed a light rainfall. “You didn’t say your stormclouds were going to settle over the farm.” “Oh, it’s raining!” Pinkie pulled away to trot for the door and watch the myriad drops form puddles on the hard earth. “Rain is a special thing on the farm, because it doesn’t happen a lot.” Her ears twitched and shifted in different directions for a few seconds. Fine watched them with a light smile; she had cute little ears. Abruptly, Pinkie turned to grin at him. “Wanna play like an earth pony?” Fine’s heart swelled at that grin. It was so wide and brilliant and Pinkie Pie. But more importantly, it was honest. He replied with a wry, “I’m not sure what you’re implying, but I might be willing to descend to the level of you mud ponies.” “You say it that way, but us earth ponies know you boneheads can’t handle it,” she countered with no less sass. She reared back and kicked her legs playfully before spinning for the door. “Come on, it’ll be fun!” Without another word, she galloped into the rain. Laughing, Fine sped after her, letting the water wash over his face. Pinkie had a big lead, but she slowed to let him catch up, and soon she was guiding him on a long, circuitous route around the barren farm. Every now and then, a pony just wanted to run. Fine had never been much for the sport, but he had to acknowledge a certain thrill in the energy coursing through his legs. The sound of the water splashing with every hoofstep, the rush of rain coating his body, his mane becoming tangled and messy. He pursued that lovely pink tail, snorting steam and reveling in her giggling laughter. He watched as, like a butterfly shedding its cocoon, Pinkie Pie became like a whole new mare. Here in this place with so many terrible memories, she was moving on. Legs covered in mud, soaked to the bone, Pinkie whooped with a fresh Joy he’d never seen in the mare. The wildness of her coat made her scars plain to see, decorating her body from head to tail as she splashed him and dodged his lunges. She danced about with all the skills of a pegasus, avoiding his attempts to grab her in the mud. Every time his hooves landed on her, they slipped off as if she were made of water. She slapped his face with her tail, laughing the whole time, and taunted him with every failure. Fine couldn’t stop grinning, not sure why he felt a fire building within him. Nor did he care. There was something primal and relieving and wild in this simple, childish game, and the longer it went on the more eager he was to catch her. Then, at last, a mistake! With a playful shriek, Pinkie toppled as her hooves slid out from under her just as she was trying to jump away. Never one to miss out on a golden opportunity when it was presented, Fine pounced. They tumbled and slid and wrestled, hooves slick with muck and water and the ever-driving rain, but at last, it ended. Fine stood over Pinkie, who lay on her back and stared up at him with a giddy grin. The two panted with the exertion as the world was drowned in the heavy beat of the rain all around. Mud coated them, a long streak of it set upon Pinkie’s muzzle and cheek, her curly mane splayed out wildly in the sludge. In that moment of heat and noise and calm, heavy breaths, she was the loveliest thing Fine had ever laid eyes on. Her eyelids lowered. One dirty hoof played across his chest, adding one more brown streak to his coat. “Oh, no. You got me. Just what do you plan on doing to me?” His grin broadened. The heat picked up. With a shivering groan, he knelt down so they were almost muzzle to muzzle. “Naughty things.” “I didn’t know you were into the whole mud thing,” she replied, no less sweetly. “First the young fillies, then cattle, now mud. You’ve got a dirty mind, Peepee.” “I’ve only got a mind for one thing, and it is sweeter than candy.” She threw a hoof dramatically over her forehead in a damsel-in-distress pose that would have made Rarity proud. “Oh, say it isn’t so! You studhandle a mare and then sweet-talk her into living out your wicked fantasies. I am but muddy in your hooves.” He laughed and nuzzled her neck. “I think you mean putty.” “No.” She slapped some mud right into his face with a giggle-snort. “I don’t.” Laughing, paying no mind to the grit that was now in his mouth, he grabbed some mud and rubbed it in her mane. She squealed and retaliated in kind. They traded more muck, never pulling away as they lathered each other in the sticky, icky substance. And then, somehow, they were kissing. Fine lost track of things after that.