//------------------------------// // Ch.3: Sweet Dreams // Story: Mark // by xCRAZYxFACEx //------------------------------// Mark Chapter 3: Sweet Dreams It was morning, and Mark was laying in bed. He felt like the very definition of comfortable; the sheets were soft, the pillow was nice and plump, and the bed fit his contours perfectly. The sun had yet to rise above the mountains south of Ponyville, and Mark wanted to savor every moment he was laying in that heavenly bed. That proved to be rather difficult, however, as the threat of Pinkie Pie loomed over him like a dark, pink cloud - one that rained chocolate milk. He wasn’t sure why he thought that, but it seemed to fit. Regardless, he wasn’t frightened by her, per say. He simply dreaded the thought of having her drag his lazy bum down into the bakery below. Mark looked over to the clock that was sitting atop the night table next to his bed. It’s six twenty-eight. She’ll be here any second to get me off my bed. . . He smiled pleasantly. But . . .it’s MY bed. One given through generosity, sure, but my bed nonetheless. The closest thing I have ever had to a home after living in Manehattan. . . when my foster parents died. . . He stopped smiling. No time to dwell on the past. I need to make myself useful, prove them wrong. Suddenly, he no longer felt so eager to stay in bed with his thoughts. He sat up, raising his hooves in the air to stretch. After a second, he felt and heard a small *crack* in his back. Feeling pleasantly relaxed, he threw his hooves over the side of the bed and stood up.  He walked over to the door, ready to start the day with zest. At that exact moment, the clock struck six thirty AM. As Mark threw open the door that covered the entrance to his room, he felt something rather hard connect with his face. It hurt, enough to stun the dull red earth pony. What in blazes is...!? His thoughts proceeded to be beaten out of him as that rather hard something connected with his face several more times in a rhythmic pattern. He managed to notice one small detail; the rather hard thing that was making his life miserable for the moment happened to be pink. That’s strange. OW Nothing so evil OW could look so innocent OW and pink. OW. His beleaguered mind swiftly came to a realization. Wait, OW this couldn’t be OW Pinkie doing this, OW could it? His suspicion was soon confirmed as he heard a light, cheery voice called out not a foot in front of him. “Oh Marrrrr-kyyyyyy! It’s time to wake up!” Surprisingly enough, the pony of all things party had yet to notice she wasn’t hitting a door, and was instead hitting her friend. Mark came to a rapid conclusion. Move, you oaf! She isn’t going to stop! Having finally made a decision, he took a large step backward, out of Pinkie’s range. Only once Mark retreated back into his room did Pinkie notice something was amiss. There seemed to be a lack something solid where she was now swinging her hoof. She stopped knocking and opened her eyes, expecting to see her friend standing there having just opened the door. Instead, she saw her newest friend crouching in the middle of his room, looking at her warily. He had slight bruising all over his face, which suggested some pony had taken a baseball bat to his face and stopped when he had given them his bits. For all the thought that went into analyzing Mark, she didn’t connect the dots. Instead, she simply greeted him in her customary way. “Good morning, sleepy head! Ready to get to work?” Mark froze with his mouth wide open, unsure of how to respond. She seriously didn’t notice that she whacked me a good dozen times before stopping!? Is this mare blind? He noticed her jolly expression and promptly shut his mouth close. She didn’t notice. A mistake. Calm down, and don’t upset her... He smiled, perhaps a bit too brightly. “Sure am! Just let me shower and I’ll be right down.” Pinkie nodded her head, and turned to walk down the hallway that led to the stairs. As soon as she was out of sight, he let his grin drop. “Ugh. I need something for my headache.” He turned to go to the bathroom, with his enthusiasm - and his face - smashed. ---------- Mark was slumped over in the shower, letting the ice cold water massage his throbbing head. He had stopped feeling anything about four minutes into his shower, and he had been in there for fifteen. He was ready to get out and dry himself off, but he simply didn’t have the will to pull his head from underneath the cascading water. He groaned. I’ll be lucky if I get through today with anything less than a concussion. The day has barely even started, and I already feel like crap. He contemplated staying in longer, but a sudden thought penetrated through all of his musings. If I stay in too long, Pinkie will get curious. Time to get dry!  With his mind made up, Mark raised himself up from the bath floor and carefully stepped out after stopping the flow of water. He quickly toweled himself, removing the freezing water. After a few seconds, he wrapped himself up in the towel and shivered. That water was FREEZING! I need to get warm. With the last of the water gone or slowly drying away, Mark exited the bathroom and proceeded down the stairs into the bakery. ---------- Ahhhhhhhhh... MUCH better!  As soon as Mark had entered the kitchen, the chill permeating his body vanished. Pinkie had gotten the ovens started, and their warmth had proven to be a boon to Mark. He allowed himself a moment to simply stand and bask in the glory that were the sweet-smelling ovens. With her usual amount of spontaneity, Pinkie Pie chose that moment to walk into the baking room. Standing behind Mark, and noticing his relaxed pose, she proceeded to talk. “Hey Mark, you might want to not stand so close to the ovens. Unless you’re putting in or taking out pastries, it’s not a good idea to stay in here too long. It can get really hot!” What? That’s ridiculous! This room is amazing! I want to stay in here for the rest of my li- Right then, the heat ceased to feel comforting and began assailing Mark’s body. Within seconds, he felt uncomfortable and a bit sweaty. Then again. . . Mark turned around to address the pink mare. “Good idea. Can we talk in the next room over?” Pinkie nodded, and walked into the counter area with Mark in tow. The first thing Mark noticed was how reserved Pinkie was acting in comparison with the day before. She isn’t bouncing off the walls, she’s not constantly yammering, she even seems a bit... calm. I wonder if she was just eager to meet a new friend yesterday, or if she had too much coffee. He mentally shrugged. Either way, it’s a burden off my chest. In front of him, the mare’s frizzy pink mane had deflated by a small amount. He, entangled within his thoughts, did not notice. The two ponies stopped in front of the counter. Pinkie turned around and spoke to the red earth pony that had been following her lead. “Alright, Mark, you ready to bake? Ponies come from all over town to get breakfast here, so we need to get cracking!” Mark nodded in acknowledgement, and replied, “Sure am. So what do we do first?” He paused, in thought. He then added, “And are Mr. and Mrs. Cake going to be helping us? Where are they?” Pinkie gave a small smile as she answered his last question. “Mr. and Mrs. Cake are going to be caring for their foals, Pumpkin and Pound. They won’t be helping until later, when I go and watch over them for a few hours. They’ll be back then, and they’ll help you with the shop.” Mark nodded; it made sense. “So what about the bakery? Are you going to show me how to make cupcakes or something?” “Nope!” Pinkie replied playfully. “I’m going to handle all the baking! You, on the other hoof, are going to be taking customer’s orders and bringing them the treats.” WHAT. “Pinkie, you realize that half the ponies in Ponyville think I’m a zombie, right?” And that with every new pony I meet, I have a chance to make a foal out of myself because I’m too busy delving into their lives? Pinkie chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m not worried about that! Most of the ponies that were in the market probably didn’t even see what you look like, given that you were wearing that old rag of yours. Unless Rose decides to walk in, I doubt there’ll be a problem!” The pink mare looked up, at one of the walls where a clock was hanging. “Well, I need to start baking. Just flip the open/closed sign and get ready to smile!” With that, she walked into the baking room and closed the door, leaving Mark alone in the front of the store. He sighed. ---------- Mark was nervous. Not because he was scared of dealing with new ponies; he had gotten used to that very early on as a child. No, he was scared because he feared he would be recognized. It wasn’t like he thought he would be driven out of town. From what he had seen, this village seemed to be the kindest he had ever visited, if a bit high strung. He was merely worried that ponies would see he was the one who caused such a stir the day before, and would immediately leave before buying anything. Pinkie Pie and the Cakes had been extraordinarily nice to him, and he didn’t want everyone avoiding Sugarcube Corner simply because he was working the cash register. He looked at the clock. It was five before seven, and hungry ponies would soon be walking through the door. He gulped, steeling himself for the first customer. I’m not going to frighten them off. I’m going to help, be useful. He didn’t have to wait long for his first customer. He heard the doorbell ring, signifying that somepony had walked in. He looked up, and was surprised to see it was the mare he had bought breakfast from the day before. Daisy? What’s she doing here? Mark realized she was walking toward him quickly, and that he had yet to welcome her. He opened his mouth and said the first thing that came to mind. “Hey Daisy, welcome to Sugarcube Corner! Want something to eat?” His smile was incredibly wide, and he had his hoof outstretched in an attempt to look hospitable. After a few seconds, his grin slowly slid off his face. She was squinting her eyes at him, like she was determining whether or not he was psychotic. He felt his stomach drop as he pondered why she was regarding him with such a distrustful look. I didn’t say something wrong, did I? I showered, I brushed my teeth, there’s nothing wrong with me! What did I -  He realized what was wrong and mentally kicked himself. Shit. She never told me her name. His suspicions were confirmed with the first words out of her mouth. “How do you know my name?” Mark felt trapped. I got lucky yesterday, but this could be my death sentence! He had to find a way out of this. “Well, uh. . . After your friend, er, frightened everypony, I wandered around. Pinkie found me and, well. She uh, asked why everypony had run away. I explained what happened, and she told me that you, Rose, and everypony else just . . .overreacted.” He felt his confidence steadily growing, and plowed onward. “She invited me over here, and even got me a job working the cash register. I’m staying here now, with the Cakes.” With his explanation complete, Mark felt like he owed the mare in front of him an apology and some reassurance. “I’m terribly sorry about what happened yesterday. I didn’t mean to frighten anypony. And if you see Rose again, tell her I don’t hold anything against her. I must have looked deathly after walking into town,” he finished off with a light joke. I really hope she buys that. I can’t have my secret passed around willy-nilly. His demeanor now one of confidence again, he only had to wait for Daisy’s reply, which came hurriedly. She tripped over her words, not wishing to offend or embarrass Mark any further. “Oh! Of course not! I told my friend - er, Rose, that what she did was incredibly rude. I’m sure it must have been terrible, and I’m incredibly sorry. I’m glad Pinkie found you, she’s probably your best chance at getting everypony to calm down around you. Speaking of which, don’t worry about what everypony thinks of you. Most just heard ‘Run’ and took off. It’s a defense mechanism, and everypony’s used to it after these past few months. I’m sure Pinkie’s told you of all the troubles we’ve had with monsters and invasions?” She was out of breath after her own apologies, giving Mark ample time to reply. “She did. Don’t worry, I understand what happened now. But,” he added, now feeling slightly playful. “I’m not sure if I can forgive you quite yet.” He was grinning like an idiot. She cocked her head at him, worry etched on her face as she let out a quiet “oh?” Mark continued to grin. “I don’t know if you were being entirely sincere or not.” He paused, looking at the bakery all around him. “I’m working here now, and I need to make a good impression on the Cakes. . . Buy something, and I think we can call it even.” His grin widened. He was full of it, and he knew it. Soon enough, she caught on. Daisy let out a small chuckle. “Alright, I’ll buy something. Just because you have the funniest grin.” She brought her hoof up to her chin, and her eyes looked up in thought. “I’ll take two chocolate cupcakes.” “Alright. Let me go get it.” Mark turned around and walked into the oven room. “Hey Pinkie, do you have two chocolate . . .cupcakes?” The bubbly mare was nowhere to be found. Isn’t she supposed to be in here? Where’d she go? He looked around for an extra second, hoping to spot her somewhere. Admitting failure, he turned around to go back to the counter. As he entered, he saw Pinkie conversing with Daisy, with a small plate on top of one of the tables. There was one cupcake sitting on it. The other was presently in Daisy’s hoof as she graciously bit into it. Mark wasn’t sure how Pinkie had managed to get the cupcakes to Daisy without even being told about it, or even without him seeing her walk by. Yet, oddly enough, he wasn’t terribly surprised. It’s just Pinkie. He proceeded to ignore Pinkie’s inexplicable abilities and turned toward Daisy, who had just finished the cupcake and noticed Mark walking in. She greeted him cordially. “Hey there, uh... what was your name again?” He realized that he had never told her his name. “My name’s Mark. And I see that Pinkie managed to beat me to the punch.” Daisy chuckled, taking her turn to speak. “Well, I hope this makes us even, Mark. I’ll see you around - and try not to start a panic next time you’re out.” With that, she grabbed the last cupcake and exited. Mark walked back to the counter, where Pinkie was smiling and waving to Daisy as she left. He commented, “You two seem like friends. Know her long?” Pinkie stopped waving and turned towards the red earth pony. “Yup! She’s one of my oldest friends, but I know everyone in Ponyville, and everyone knows me! More importantly, how do YOU know her?” Mark raised his hooves on top of the counter and leaned on it, looking at Pinkie. “She was the first pony I talked to yesterday after I walked into Ponyville. I bought some daisies for breakfast, and was about to leave when her friend, Rose, saw me and freaked out. So, yeah, you could say we know each other.” Pinkie Pie bobbed her head in acknowledgement. “Oki-doki-loki! I just hope you forgive her; it wasn’t her fault half the town panicked.” Mark smirked slightly. “Don’t worry. I don’t blame her for anything. Besides, I think this is working out just fine.” He pulled his hooves off the counter and stood straight. “Well, ready to get back to work?” In response, Pinkie daintily hopped back into the oven room after a quick, “Yup!” Mark watched as she left, then turned his head back towards the door, now feeling much better about meeting new ponies. ---------- A couple of hours had passed, and Mark bid farewell to his latest customer. She was a grey pegasus mare, with bright, golden eyes. Her cutie mark was three bubbles. Ditzy Doo, often called Derpy Hooves as a sort of mean nickname. Mail mare, very devoted to both her work and her daughter, Dinky Doo. Slight problem with depth perception, but deceptively intelligent - very intelligent, actually. And apparently, she LOVES muffins. He said his goodbye one last time as Ditzy left Sugarcube Corner, her mouth clamped shut on a bag filled with muffins. Mark had done exceedingly well as a sales pony, and had yet to frighten off anyone. There had been some ponies that recognized him from his grand entrance into Ponyville, but they were quickly reassured once he explained himself and showed he was helping Pinkie. All in all, he was content. I can’t wait for lunch. Seeing all these baked goods just fly out the door can be maddening! He smacked his lips. Later, though. As he was waiting for the next customer, Pinkie bounded through the doorway that led to the oven room. She regarded him with some excitement.”Hey, Mark, the Cakes are going to be coming down soon.” Mark pivoted to face her, and replied, “Alright. They’re going to help us now?” “Yup! They still need to work, but Pumpkin and Pound need someone to look after them, so -” Mark cut her off as he raised her hoof. “It’s okay, Pinkie. Go on up, I’m sure they’re eager to see you. I’ll stay down here and work the register, or do whatever the Cakes need me to do. I’m sure they want to talk to me anyway, get to know me better, you know?” He turned back around, assuming that Pinkie was going to go upstairs now that the Cakes were coming down. “Be sure to have some fun, and make them laugh!” As it turned out, he had assumed wrong. “Silly billy! I convinced the Cakes to let you watch over them for a while!” Mark froze, feeling horrified for some reason even he was unsure about. They’re just foals, but why does Pinkie want ME to foalsit? She barely even knows me! Mark released his confusion and fear at her. “Pinkie, I’m glad you and the Cakes trust me that much, but WHY? I’ve known you for about a day! And I don’t know the first thing about foalsitting!” Pinkie gazed at him, just as confused. “Of course I trust you! If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have let you stay here as a guest, much less care for the Cakes’ children!” She gave him a knowing smile. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll do just fine. You’re a good stallion, even if you don’t think so. Call it a hunch.” She grabbed him with her hooves and began dragging him towards the stairs. “So quit complaining, and enjoy the break!” She threw him upwards with strength beguiling of her size, and he landed on the upper floor. She called up to him one last time. “And if all else fails, use the flour!” Mark heard her trot away, leaving him upstairs to care for the foals. He was dazed. The reality was just setting in for him. She really trusts me enough to care for her employer’s foals? Wow. He stood up and dusted himself off. Have to hand it to her, she’s one of the most trusting and generous ponies I’ve ever met. Getting me a job, letting me stay as a guest, trusting me enough to care for some of the most important ponies in her life? He shook his head as walked down the hallway and to the door he knew held the two foals. I doubt I’ll ever meet another pony as generous as her. ---------- Across town, a white pony sat in her boutique, thinking of ways to make her works of art known to the Canterlot elite. She was absorbed in her work, completely unaware of the passage of time in her own little corner of the world. Suddenly, her concentration broke. She looked up and took a deep breath. For some reason, she felt like she had just been gravely insulted. “Calm down, Rarity. . . there is absolutely no reason for you to feel this way. A pony as refined and busy as yourself can’t afford to be sidetracked by irrational jealousy,” she muttered to herself. She took another second to get her concentration back, and then continued with her delicate work. ---------- Mark was paused in front of the door, unsure if he should walk in. They’re just foals. He didn’t trust himself to walk in. He had never been a caretaker for anyone but himself. He knew what he wanted and needed, but that was it. How could he do this without screwing up? Pinkie Pie and the Cakes both trust you enough. If you don’t trust yourself, trust them. He still hesitated. He didn’t want to go in, afraid of all the things that could go wrong. If you go downstairs and explain you’re incapable of handling two six-month-old foals, you’ll embarrass yourself. And if you sit here and do nothing, you’re not only hurting the children, but you’re hurting everyone else too. He made his mind up. He might not have liked it, but he was all they had for the next few hours. Not unless he wanted to break the trust he had so recently acquired. He opened the door. A rubber chicken promptly hit his face, and fell off. It hit the floor with a small wheeze. Mark looked up, and saw a light brown pegasus foal walking on the ceiling, on the other side of the room. He was using his wings to stay aloft and evidently wasn't paying any attention to him, though, as he continued to walk unperturbed. Mark decided that the rubber chicken hadn’t come from him. He looked around, and finally spotted a yellow unicorn baby sitting on the ground to his left, chewing a rubber duck. He raised an eyebrow. I didn’t realize unicorns could use their horns so early on. Only way to explain how that rubber chicken fell on my face. He looked at the two foals carefully. I guess Pumpkin is the yellow one. So, Pound is the pegasus that is currently walking along the ceiling. He took a step forward, slightly unsure of what to do. He stepped on the chicken that had just graced him with its presence, letting out a loud squeak. Both foals turned their heads towards the new arrival, staring at him with mouths wide open. They started to cry. Horsefeathers. ---------- About fifteen minutes later, both foals were sound asleep in their crib. As for how they had gotten there, Mark was completely unsure. It had been a blur, trying to calm down the two youngsters. He had simply approached them, speaking softly, trying to catch their attention. He had spoken their names, and they both stopped crying long enough to look at him through teary eyes. He didn’t recall what he had said, but it was something calming, something to soothe the two foals. He had spoken consistently, without pause and in a tranquil voice. Soon enough, he had the two foals in his front hooves as he rocked them gently to sleep. He had hummed. He was reasonably sure he had hummed, yes. It didn’t really have a tune, it was just a way to calm them down. They had fallen asleep, and he had set them gently in the crib. That had been five minutes ago. Now, Mark was simply sitting on the ground, passing the time by reading a book he had picked up from the guest room. He frequently looked over at the sleeping ponies, making sure they didn’t need anything else. He felt at peace himself. I guess I work well with foals. I just didn’t know it could be so easy. He hadn’t delved into their minds, as they lacked cutie marks for him to do so. He was rather glad, as it provided him with a modicum of peace and quiet, allowing him to concentrate on caring for them. For the moment, though, he had nothing to do except watch and read. Pound had his head facing towards Mark, where the red earth pony could see it. Unconsciously, the small pegasus yawned, his mouth going wide as he breathed deeply. Mark saw it. After a few seconds, he, too, yawned. I feel kinda tired. . . . and it’s not like they’re going anywhere. . . . maybe I should. . . should.... . . . . .   .   .     . He fell asleep. ---------- The sky was a dull gray. Clouds covered the blue abyss above him. A small amount of sunlight broke through the cloud cover, enough for him to see his surroundings. He was in a large field, and rocks sporadically littered its surface. Off in the distance, a few hundred feet away, was a small two story house. Next to it, a tall windmill kept a lonely vigil over the field. Mark looked over the field. There were rocks everywhere. He saw dull colored earth ponies off in the distance. They seemed familiar, but Mark had never seen them before. Two adults, a mare and a stallion. Two children, and both seemed to be fillies. Where have I seen them before? His body walked at a slow pace, reacting to stimuli beyond his control. He noted the color of his fur. A dull pink. A very, very dull pink. . . His body continued to move forward. He lowered his head, and approached one of the countless rocks. He nudged it forward, sending it slowly flipping onto its other side. I’m on a rock farm... and I think I’m Pinkie Pie. He heard a voice call out. “Pinkamena! It is time to head home!” His body immediately reacted. He felt loathing, and a very profound sense of sadness. He turned and moved towards the house he had seen earlier, with even less vigor than before. As he approached the house, smelling something that sickened him - Rock soup? Do they still serve that around here? - only one thought came to his mind. It wasn’t his thought, but it was an incredibly strong thought, one that almost blocked out any other emotion or reaction. I’m not happy. I want to leave. ---------- Mark woke with a start. He heard a knock at the door. “Hey Marky, you in there? It’s time for lunch!” Mark looked over to his left, and saw Pound and Pumpkin awake and lively, both of them grabbing the bars of the crib and cooing lightly. “Mark? Helloooooo?” Mark stood up and shook his head to clear his grogginess. “I’m here, Pinkie. I’ll be out in a second.” Mark stretched his back, relaxing himself before heading out. His thoughts drifted back to the dream he had just seen. No, not a dream. A memory - Pinkie’s. I had no idea she had such a lifeless and uncomfortable childhood. How did she end up becoming such an outgoing and energetic pony? He began walking to the crib, and picked up both of the foals. He placed them on his back and then stepped towards the door. Whatever that was, I don’t think I should mention it. I’ll let Pinkie decide if she wants to talk about it. She can probably hear what I’m thinking right now anyway. . . He opened the door, and was face to face with a particularly stressed Pinkie. She seemed to be paying him no attention, caught up in her own thoughts. Oh boy... He decided to take the initiative with her for once. He waved his hoof in front of her face, grabbing her attention. “Hey Pinkie, you there? What’s for lunch?” The pink pony jumped in surprise, and then tried to put on a smile. “Um, right! Lunch... Well, Applejack just dropped by and sold us some apples, so we’ll be having fritters and strudels. I know you must be hungry after dealing with those rascals! Come on!” Mark followed as Pinkie led him down into the dining area. “Actually, Pinkie, I didn’t have much trouble in getting them to fall asleep. I didn’t know I could work with children so well; thanks. It seems your trust was well placed.” And I trust you. I’ll keep quiet on this. If you want to talk, I’d be more than willing to do so. It’s the least I can do for you, as a friend. Mark gazed at Pinkie as she slowly walked down the stairs. Her head leaned over to the left slightly. He could only see her nose and mouth. He saw a sorrowful grin on her lips. “It seems it was.”