//------------------------------// // Birch Burrow // Story: Nothing Without Me // by chillbook1 //------------------------------// “Rave, slow down!” Raven barely heard Garrus. She barely took a second to get her bearings. She barely heard Luna teleport away. She barely took a second to look around the new city she was in, a city she had never been to before. Raven was on autopilot mode, and when she saw Mareizona General Hospital in front of her, she was running for the door before she had a second to think about it. The smell of antiseptics and disinfectants burned at Raven’s nose, immediately conjuring up bad memories. She remembered staying in the hospital only twice: once when she had her appendix removed, and once when Harpy was being treated for her overindulgences the night before. Raven shook her head, trying to loosen the thoughts of surgeries and stomach pumps from her mind, approaching the reception desk with a knot in her throat. “How can I help you?” asked the receptionist. Raven opened her mouth, and nothing came out. She froze, her words unable to come together in any sensible way. Raven wasn’t sure if she could speak without falling apart, and so she just stopped in her tracks. “Ma’am? Is everything alright?” “Rave!” Garrus hurried through the door, sliding to a stop next to his friend. To say he was concerned would be an understatement. He had never seen her like this. Raven was always strong, cool under pressure, able to keep her emotions in check for the most part. “Sir? Is she with you?” “I’m more with her, really. Her father was just admitted a day or two ago,” said Garrus. “Birch… Shoot, not Inkwell, right? Birch…” “Burrow,” croaked Raven. “Birch Burrow.” “Just one second.” The receptionist looked through her paperwork for a bit before finding the sheet she was looking for. “Room 136. That’s just down the hall.” Raven was gone in a flash, and, after thanking the receptionist, Garrus was right behind her. She moved quicker than she had in some time, finally coming to a stop at room 136. Raven could feel her heart pounding in her chest, as if trying to burst through her ribs. Garrus stood beside her, gently nudging her on the shoulder. “It’s okay. I got you,” said Garrus. “You ready?” Raven nodded, although she couldn’t recall telling a bigger lie in her life. She pushed open the door and strode into the hospital room, terrified by what could be on the other side of the door. Her confusion upon seeing her father sitting in the hospital bed, casually strumming his guitar, was almost incalculable. “Dad?” Raven was, understandably, dumbfounded. Birch was just playing as if nothing at all was wrong. But, before Raven could get too hopeful, she noticed something was off. Birch missed a few notes he wouldn’t otherwise, as if his mind was working just a few seconds too slow for his body. When Birch saw his daughter, he smiled, though it looked as if he was having a difficult time doing so. Raven was so focused on her father that she didn’t even notice Harpy until she stood up from her seat. “Where were you?” she demanded. “I sent you that letter yesterday morning.” “I… I didn’t see it. I’m sorry,” said Raven. “Dad… How are you doing?” “Better now that you’re here, Birdie.” Birch clumsily set down his guitar, turning to grin at his daughter. His coat was a golden brown, contrasting with the stark white of Raven’s. His mane was similarly dark, thinning slightly near the top. “It’s good to see you.” He seemed to only just then notice Garrus. “Hello, there. You’re a friend of Raven’s?” “Yes, sir. Garrus Oak of Canterlot’s Solar Guard,” said Garrus, saluting. Birch chuckled, returning his salute with a clumsy, uncoordinated hoof. “As you were. I’m a former guard myself, Squadron Leader. Canterlot wasn’t hiring griffons when I was working there. Granted, we didn’t have an abundance of griffons applying…” “I’m here for an exchange program, Raven has been teaching me the Equestrian way of life.” Garrus shot her a smile. “She’s been a very good friend.” “That’s my Birdie.” “Dad…” Raven buried her face in her hooves, unable to believe what she was seeing. “What happened?” “You would know if you read the damn letter and got here on time,” said Harpy. Raven opened her mouth to retort, but Birch interjected first. “Harpy, enough. This is plenty hard on everyone as is. No point in being upset,” said Birch calmly. “I’m sure Raven got here as soon as she could.” “We bumped into Princess Luna, she teleported us here,” said Raven, cringing at even this slight embellishment of the facts. To say that they bumped into Luna wasn’t false, but it certainly wasn’t the whole story. “We got here as soon as we could.” “Which very easily could’ve been too slow.” Harpy stood up, making a beeline for the door. “I’ve been here for two whole days, scared out of my wits. You needed to be here, Raven. When are you going to learn that your actions have consequences? One day, shirking your responsibilities like this is going to bite you on the ass.” Harpy shook her head, exhausted, irate, and disgusted in equal measure. “I’ll be back in the morning. I need a drink.” Raven felt her jaw clench and, just like earlier, her body moved on its own, stepping directly into Harpy’s path. “You’re kidding, right?” said Raven. “Dad is sitting in the hospital and you want a drink?” “I’m not asking your permission, missy. Out of my way.” “You're going to do this to us? Again? Sit—” Harpy didn’t even let Raven finish her sentence before she pushed past her, slamming the door closed on her way out. "Mom! You can’t keep doing this! Get back here!" "I'll see if I can talk her down," said Garrus, rushing out after Harpy. Raven sighed, trudging across the room and taking Harpy's seat beside the hospital bed. She glanced over to her father, who had long since been used to this sort of behavior. "I would've thought you'd know better than to argue with her by now," sighed Birch. "When she gets like this, there's not much that can stop her." "Yeah… Still, though. Right now?" grumbled Raven. "You need her now, more than ever." "To be honest, I'm surprised she even showed up." "Yeah, how did that happen, anyway?" asked Raven. "She told me that you haven't spoken in years." Birch chuckled slightly, scratching a hoof through his hair sheepishly. "See… Thing is, she's still my emergency contact…" Birch laughed weakly at the look of aghast confusion his daughter displayed. "Never got sick before now, never needed to change it." "Dad… What if she didn't come?" asked Raven. "What if she decided to be petty and vindictive and just stayed in Canterlot?" "I knew she'd come. Despite our issues over the years, she's a good woman. She always has been. I knew she'd come through when I needed her." Birch clumsily grabbed up his guitar, casually strumming a slow, mellow tune. "Just like I knew you'd come. Wasn't expecting your friend, though." "Sorry. I heard you were in the hospital and I just lost it. He made sure I got here okay." Raven still couldn't grasp how calm her father was, seemingly unphased by the situation he found himself in. "Don't be sorry. I'm glad you're meeting people you can depend on, and he seems like a good griffon. Just a friend, though. Right?" Birch narrowed his gaze at his daughter, earning only a roll of the eyes and a nod of the head. "You sure? He's not bad looking…" "Dad!" "Fine, I'll leave you alone. Let you get where you're going on your own." The two fell silent for a bit, save for Birch's song. "You seem upset, Birdie. What's on your mind?" "You just had a stroke, Dad. You're on my mind. Mom is on my mind. Everything is on my mind." Raven shook her head in a futile attempt to fight off her oncoming headache. "I just… I can't believe she's like this. I can't believe she's still doing this to you. You've been so good to her all these years, better than she deserves and still…" "Harpy is… a troubled soul," said Birch carefully. "Like I said, there's a good mare in here. She just needs some course correction every now and then." "I just don't know what you saw in her." Birch chewed on his tongue for a second, clearly absorbed in thought. Raven couldn't blame him for that. He had been through so much already, and now here he was in his sickbed, his ex-wife and daughter fighting like cats and dogs. Raven wished things could be different, but Harpy made that impossible. Instead of a typical response, Birch strummed a more discernible melody, a song Raven recognized. It was the song Birch wrote for Harpy, all those years ago. "Do you believe in destiny?" he asked. Slowly, uncertainty, Raven gave a nod. “A little birdie flew into my life and mine was plain to see. I think everyone in life has their own special route. And how can you ignore your destiny when it's right in front of you?” “That’s not how the song used to go,” noted Raven. Birch smirked, but just kept on strumming his guitar. Raven frowned at the missed notes and unsteady playing. Birch himself swore under his breath, then quickly adjusted his hooves on his instrument. “In fact, I don’t think it had words at all when you wrote it.” “Felt fitting. I hope you were listening to them.” Birch muted the strings with his hoof, taking a moment to tune the guitar before returning to his song. “You only see Harpy when she’s at her worst. I met her at her best. The Harpy I know is strong, smart, determined. When she set her mind on something, it would take nothing short of divine intervention to stop her.” Birch smirked, finally setting his guitar back down beside his bed. “Reminds me a lot of you.” “She’s also frigid, selfish, bitter, and toxic to everypony that she comes in contact with.” Raven sighed, burying her face in her hooves. “God, I am just like her, aren’t I? I could’ve been here sooner, but I was too much of a coward to face her. I should’ve just grit my teeth and dealt with her like an adult. And now… God, what if I was too late? What if you…” "Raven, you've been blessed with a great many talents, but there is nothing you're better at than worrying yourself." Birch leaned over and grabbed a saddlebag he had laying beside him and began rustling through it. "I know this is scary, but worrying about ifs, buts, maybes, and probablys isn't going to make anything better." "I know. You always said I took myself too seriously." Raven slumped slightly, her tank very quickly approaching empty. She was exhausted, stressed, terrified. "I can't help it. Between work and Mom butting her way back into my life, and now you're sick… I don't know how I'm gonna keep going." "You'll keep going on because that's what you do. There's only one thing I've ever seen you attempt that you gave up on." Birch finally emerged from his bag, offering to Raven an old, hastily stapled stack of papers. The corners were tattered and dogged, the entire stack old and damaged by the elements and Father Time. "And for that… I'm sorry." "What's this?" Raven took the stack and looked it over, tilting her head in curiosity. Her expression shifted a bit the longer she examined the papers. "This is my writing. Wait… Is this my play?" She flipped open the script, a wave of memories washing over her. It had been so long since she had last seen this script, even longer since she had actually read it. "Why do you have this? How do you have this? I threw this out years ago…" "I snatched it up before it got tossed out for good. I was going to hold onto it until you came back to the project, but… You never did." "I know. It flopped, bad," said Raven, tossing the script away. To her surprise and mild annoyance, her father picked it back up. "My first big failure. I don't know what I was thinking." "No. This isn't your big failure, Birdie. It's mine," said Birch. Raven peered at him strangely, but her father didn't give her much time to speculate before he tossed the script right back at her. "I knew you were struggling. I knew you needed help. And I wasn't there for you." "It's not your fault. Not even Mom's fault." Raven absolutely did not want to think about her failed play, then or ever. It was a mistake, it was embarrassing, and, most importantly, it was unfixable. There was nothing that she or anypony else could do about it, and therefore didn't warrant further discussion. "It's mine. Things got too hard and I cracked. Nopony should be sorry about it but me." "Birdie… This play was all you talked about for weeks, months even. I had never seen you happier than when you were talking about your play. Still don't know if I have," said Birch. "You poured your heart and soul into this script. This… this was your destiny." "My destiny was to follow in Mom's hoofsteps," said Raven, growing more and more frustrated. Her ire was mostly directed to herself, the thoughts of maybes and what-ifs grinding away at her mental barrier. "My play was a fun little distraction, but it wasn't to be. Inkwells aren't playwrights. Inkwells are Royal Advisors." "Says who? Celestia? Harpy? What about you, Raven? When do your dreams come into the equation?" Raven didn't have an answer for some time. Her eyes bounced from her script, the flawed story and direction almost driving her to tear it to shreds right then and there, to her father, sincere exhaustion and sadness in his eyes. She didn't know what to say, didn't know what the right answer was. It had been years since she had even given thought to her "dreams", or whatever remained of them. Even if she thought she had a place anywhere but at the throne's side, it didn't matter. She had missed her opportunity, and there was no diverting course now. Raven Inkwell was the Royal Advisor, for better or for worse, and there wasn't anything that could be done to change that. "I'm too old for dreams, Dad. This is my reality," sighed Raven. "I've made peace with who I am and what I do. Like you said, worrying about ifs and maybes isn't going to change things. Time to move on." A knock at the door stole Raven's attention. She stood up to get it, cracking open the door to see Garrus waiting in the hallway. "Hey, I got your mother checked into a hotel. I don't think she's in a good shape to be coming to a hospital," said Garrus carefully. He examined Raven's face for some sort of sign that she would flip, and he was surprised to see none. "And they're gonna kick me out in a few minutes. Visiting hours are over and they said only immediate family can stay overnight. I can send a letter to Canterlot to call in sick and stay here for you if you want." "No, it's okay. I'm good," said Raven. "Thanks for getting me here. I know I was a mess earlier, but seeing Dad has calmed me down a bit." Raven glanced back to her father, who had resumed the slow, slightly clumsy strumming of his guitar. "It's good catching up like this. Just wish it was under different circumstances." "You sure you'll be okay?" Raven gave a small, almost taciturn nod. "Alright. Well, then, I'm gonna message Luna and hitch a ride back home. Luna said to let her know if you need anything, and that extends to me, too. I got your back, Rave. Just let me know if you need me.” To Garrus’ surprise, Raven responded not with words, but with wrapping around him in a warm, tender hug. Raven had never been fond of physical contact, and Garrus couldn’t recall seeing her hug anypony, let alone him. After just a moment of hesitation, Garrus returned the affection, gently patting Raven on the back. He could feel Raven shuddering, just barely fighting back tears, and his heart snapped. He could hardly imagine how hard this was for the Inkwell family, Raven especially, but he vowed to do everything he could to help his friend through this tough spot. “Thanks, Gary,” she whispered. “For dealing with my mother. For dealing with me. For everything. Thank you.” “Don’t mention it, Rave. Like I said, I’ve got your back whenever you need me.” Garrus gave Raven a firm pat on the back as they broke apart. “I gotta go. See you around.” “Bye, Gary. Safe travels.” Raven watched as her friend left, taking a second to compose herself. She took in a deep breath and adjusted her glasses before turning back to face her father. Birch was smirking as he played his guitar, so amused with Raven that he didn’t even notice the notes he was missing. “What?” “Just friends?” asked Birch with a grin. “Dad!”