//------------------------------// // I // Story: Experiment C-13 // by Botched Lobotomy //------------------------------// Experiment C-13, she’d called it. She’d whispered it as they’d kissed for the very first time, and Sunset hadn’t cared to ask then, but she’d mentioned it after, too. Experiment C-13 was their relationship, and Twi had called it a resounding success. Sunset remembered grinning at that, a smile she hadn’t been able to wipe away for at least a minute after. Those had been the days. Now, Sunset just felt tired, all the time. She hadn’t really noticed it at first – no way could she pinpoint when it had begun – but it had been growing nevertheless, slowly but surely. Lately she’d been thinking about it a lot. She slept for nine or ten hours, usually, in a sort of attempt to doze the yawning away, but honestly she wasn’t sure it was helping. She’d sleep in late, get up late, and wade through most of the day with the vague feeling that she should still be in bed. It was only when the sun outside slipped below the towers that she finally felt somewhat alive, but by then she only had a few hours left before bed. The worst thing about it was that she didn’t know why. She certainly hadn’t always been like this – sure, she’d never been a morning person, but hell, who was – she used to have energy, what her mother had tactfully called ‘spirit’, now she was just exhausted. Twilight hated it. She hadn’t said it in so many words, of course, Twilight wasn’t the confrontational type, but Sunset could feel it. It was the ‘morning!’ when she came home at four, it was the irritable shifting when Sunset turned restlessly in the night, it was the way breakfast (or an attempt at it) was never left out any more. Twilight probably didn’t do it intentionally, or even consciously, but the signs were there all the same. Yes, something was seriously wrong with her. And here she lay, five in the morning, dead awake, while Twi dozed quietly beside her. Sunset sighed (slowly, so as to make as little sound as possible), and tried to close her eyes. Experiment C-13 had been a success. In the three years they’d been together, she’d been happier than she ever had before. Twi, too. That was the worst thing, really – they’d been happy. And now... It was five A.M., she shouldn’t be thinking about this. She should be counting sheep or re-adding all 31,536,000 seconds in a year or whatever, not lying here thinking how tired she was and how successful their relationship had been. It had been. It had been. Sunset covered her head with an arm and groaned into it. Happy memories, happy memories. Twilight at the Canterlot Gardens, trying to smother her laughter as Sunset pointed out that the large flower she was carefully transcribing the Latin name for looked precisely like a giant pussy. The two of them at the dance, dipping outside the hall for fresh air, and just sitting, feeling the gentle vibrations through Twi’s chest as she murmured on about the stars above. The night after graduation, after sex, just lying in bed and talking about everything, the whole future stretched out before them, as real as their tightly clasped hands. Memories not just good and happy, but special too. She looked over at the moulded form of Twilight in the covers, the smooth, subtle creases in the sheets hinting at the curves underneath, and felt...hollow. Sunset didn’t feel right now the way she remembered she should – and maybe that was the fact she could see sunlight creeping in under the curtain, and the way her mouth was all dry cause she’d been trying to sleep for three hours, and it probably had a whole lot to do with the stinging round her eyes from not enough rest, but...if she was honest, she hadn’t felt like she should for a good long while. Like, three or four months. And come to think of it, now she really tried, she realised that none of those warm, happy memories, those moments where everything crystallised around her and it was all worth it, none of those memories were all that recent. In the dim light of far-too-early morning, she could just make out the mess of purple hair spilling out over the pillow. The covers rustled, unbearably loud, as she reached out to touch it. Soft, tangled, she stroked Twi’s hair gently, but even that didn’t feel like it had. There was an odd disconnect between them that wasn’t there normally, shouldn’t be there, and she didn’t know when it had started growing. What was wrong with her? Why did those happy months feel both like yesterday and so far away as to be unreachable? Why, why, why couldn’t she get to sleep? Sunset closed her eyes and tried to hold back, to bite down on the sudden tears that welled behind her eyes, burning at the rim of her exhaustion. She needed to do something, and soon. Tomorrow-soon. Today, in fact. She had to figure out what the hell was going on and how to fix it. Yeah, she would do that. Her eyes didn’t feel quite so stinging now, they lay more comfortably closed, more naturally tired. Her hand tightened on the few strands of Twilight she held, and she felt herself relax, finally. Experiment C-13, at least, had been a success. Right?