'Mirror mirror on the wall, am I the one who'll kill us all?'
Prey's worries about Gloom turned out not to be groundless.
It took over two hours for Crimson to return, quietly opening the door and slipping back inside, during which the doctor had come by again accompanied by a unicorn nurse. Prey was highly uncomfortable and nervous in their presence, as the doctor once again insisted on checking his vitals and the nurse brought him some pills with water to take.
It was only because Prey read the nurse's thoughts and saw the pills were indeed painkillers, and not secretly poison, that he swallowed them instead of hiding them under his tongue. That, and his weak body was still adamant about hurting at every possible opportunity and would quite like those painkillers. The ungrateful runt thing.
"You're a very lucky filly," The nurse had told Prey with an encouraging smile, "Don't worry, you'll be out of here in no time."
The doctor had given a cough, not looking up from scribbling down his readings on his clipboard, "Colt. Not a filly." He'd surreptitiously tried to inform the nurse.
"Oh I'm sorry dear, silly me. I swear, I'd forget my head at home if it wasn't screwed on. Here, let me take that glass back for you."
"Thank you very much." Prey politely answered without meaning a word of it.
Mercifully, the two unicorns left soon after, and a little while later Crimson had returned.
Prey didn't ask him about what he'd gotten out of Gloom. The Sargent had decided to walk out on the ISND, not the other way around. Nevertheless, Crimson still filled him in on what'd happened, although it really wasn't much.
"He still intends to hoof in his resignation. I, I failed in talking him out of it." Crimson spoke reluctantly, "I'm bad at talking."
That was all Crimson said about it, and really, it was all that needed to be said too.
After a few minutes of silence, Prey tentatively suggested talking about something else rather than Gloom's impending abandonment of them. About what he didn't care, just talk if Crimson wanted to talk, because Prey sure as Hell didn't know what to say, and by the sounds of it, neither did Crimson.
Crimson's tightly folded feathers relaxed at the offer, "Yes, let's do that please."
Prey and Crimson really were both completely and totally out of their depth about what their friendship was supposed to entail, but were feeling the pressure to reaffirm their newly confirmed friendship.
So the two of them spoke. Their conversation was awkward, stilted, halting, and probably extremely boring to listen in on by any third party. It was about stupid, inane things which in the past would've bored Prey to tears if he'd ever even imagined himself chatting like some kind of pony civilian. Which he hadn't imagined, because it would've been a stupid thing to imagine.
But that was in the past. Right now, Prey didn't give a flying toss about what Past Prey or anyone else might've thought. To him, speaking about such trivial things with Crimson was as fascinating as any high magical science lecture. Because it was Crimson, his new and only friend.
Dumb things. Like favourite colours.
("Blue of the night sky." "A white cream.")
What painkillers the hospital had them each on.
("I don't know the name, but it's some good stuff.")
The ridiculousness of the foal's mobile above his bed.
("I could take it down for you Prey, if you find it that insulting.")
Wondering if the two flats they'd been forced to rent were still open.
("Considering we're paying, the landlord better have kept them both open.")
Explaining to Crimson why the nurse had tried to make small talk about hoofball teams.
("Well you see, ponies in Equestria have this weird obsession with sporting teams.")
How bad Cookie's cooking really was, since even hospital food was better.
("I know you're her favourite Prey, but really, how did she get her job?")
Crimson saying how he'd always thought owls were pretentious birds.
("Why does everyone always revere them as wise for some reason?")
Speculating on how much paperwork Taffy had in store for them.
("I don't know the exact amount, but I bet it's a mountain.")
Prey mentioning the fizzy taste of lemon sherbets.
("I'll get you some next time Crimson.")
Silly little random things. Ridiculous things. Prey didn't care, because this, talking about trivial things with a friend, was something he'd never had the chance to experience before.
It was brand new and strangely exciting, for all it should've been deathly boring. And unspoken was that neither of them wanted to speak about the far more weightier, darker topics of what their futures might hold, or speculate on what the hidden costs for their actions in Mayflower and Alfalfa Dale might be.
But of course it couldn't last. They might've been distracting themselves from the seriousness of the situation they were in, albeit a less immediately life threatening one, but others had not forgotten.
Prey's door was pushed open and a chestnut furred unicorn walked confidently in. He was wearing a wide brimmed hat with a split in the front for his horn, and his eyes took in and judged the whole room at a glance.
Prey had never seen the pony before in his life, but the unicorn certainly wasn't a doctor. Crimson rose from his stool as the stallion kicked the door shut with a back hoof, and strode straight over to the foot of the bed.
"May we help you?" Crimson asked, moving just enough to block the stallion's path. The jade chain necklace sparkled around his neck.
"Yes actually. You can help me by giving us some privacy." The stallion announced. He had the sort of tone that was only just off a bark, like someone not used to wasting time.
Crimson blinked slowly at him, "Pardon?"
The chestnut stallion gave an impatient flick of his hoof, "Wait outside. I'd like to speak with this minor privately."
"And who are you supposed to be?" Prey asked suspiciously. Internally, he was frowning as he tried to hear this intrusive pony's thoughts.
"Strange Happenstance, private investigator, pleased to meet you both." The unicorn snapped open a badge and flashed it in his aura while simultaneously offering a hoof to Crimson.
Crimson took it on reflex, and Strange locked ankles with Crimson and gave it a very firm shake.
"Charmed," Strange Happenstance said, and pulled Crimson towards the door, "Now wait outside, I need some time to discuss a sensitive matter with this foal."
Crimson stopped letting the stallion move him, "No."
"I was merely being polite by asking, you don't really have a choice. I'm a legally appointed investigator. Are you going to make me institute the statutory law?" Strange asked coolly, dropping Crimson's hoof.
Prey's eyes went wide, making the poison burns wrapped up under the bandages on his cheeks stretch painfully, but his reaction had nothing to do with this investigators threat of legal powers.
'I can't hear his thoughts. They're locked away.'
Fear slipped down Prey's spine, cold and icy as the possible implications flashed through his head.
Prey couldn't hear this supposed investigator's thoughts. Was this Strange Happenstance actually a Mimic in disguise and not a pony? Was there a secret society of Mimics, and had they somehow tracked Prey down for knowing about the one pretending to be Shimmer?
Prey hid a swallow, his eyes drifting towards Crimson for a second. He couldn't hear Crimson's thoughts either. But that didn't mean anything, he knew Crimson well. Sort of. Or he hoped he did at any rate. Crimson couldn't be a Mimic, because sometimes he still picked up flashes of thought. Surely not, right?
But this investigator? What were the chances of running into so many ponies with hidden thoughts in such a short space of time?
The threat of legal pressure didn't move Crimson. "Who gave you permission to come in here? This is supposed to be a restricted area of the hospital." Crimson challenged.
"Who do you think?" Strange returned flippantly, "Your officers did. Go ask them if you want confirmation, or just wait outside for the five minutes this'll take, I don't care."
When neither Prey nor Crimson moved, Strange raised one eyebrow under his hat brim, "Are you refusing to comply with a legal demand? I checked, and there's no witness protection injunction order. You have something to hide?"
"Of course not. But we have orders not to answer any questions." Crimson told the investigator flatly.
"Even if there was a witness protection order, which there isn't, the witness is still legally obligated to provide answers to authorities or face prosecution. I have questions that he-" Strange Happenstance waved a hoof at Prey, getting his gender right for a change, "-As a witness has some of the answers for. But you, as an off duty Guard, have no authority."
Prey did not trust this stallion any further than he could throw him. And since Prey was a runt who could now never physically grow up, he couldn't throw the stallion at all.
There was no guarantee that this Strange Happenstance was who he said he was, and how had he even learnt about the ISND in the first place? Didn't Nighthawk say he was keeping everything under wraps for now? Or was that part of what Strange Happenstance wanted to question him about?
The investigator still hadn't actually referred to Prey by name yet. Logically, that indicated he saw Prey as just a minor, and was therefore treating Crimson as the current legal guardian. Which would mean he really was an investigator following legal procedure, and not a Mimic in disguise bent on revenge for Shimmer. Unless this all too was just a ploy.
Prey weighed it up and made a quick judgement call, "Thank you Crimson, but it's okay. I can talk to the investigator-"
"Alone." Strange stressed.
"-After all, you'll be waiting just outside the door, right?" Prey prompted, not dropping Crimson's gaze. He silently conveyed the message to 'stand-guard-at-the-door-and-listen-in.'
Crimson hesitated, then shifted out of his defensive posture, "Alright, if you're sure." He said, speaking only to Prey.
Prey smiled brightly, "Thanks. I'm sure I can manage to stay in one piece."
"It's not you I'm worried about." Crimson muttered as a bad joke, but his expression conveyed an undertone of caution to Prey.
Nevertheless, Crimson still walked past the chestnut unicorn, giving the other stallion a blank look as he pulled open the door. Strange Happenstance gave him a measured stare in return, then used his magic to firmly shut the door behind Crimson before the pegasus could change his mind.
"Now," Strange said, pulling up Crimson's vacated stool and wasted no time in getting started, "I want you to answer all of my questions to the best of your abilities. And the 'I-don't-want-to talk-about-it' excuse is not good enough, understand?"
Prey was a lamb covered in bandages and in hospital. So he decided to act like it.
He blinked tiredly at Strange Happenstance, slumping back against the pillow, "Kay'." He muttered.
Strange didn't seem to have paid any attention to how Prey had casually untied the silk ribbon from behind his ear, and was now winding one end around his hoof. If this unicorn really was a Mimic, or even just a hostile pony, they were going to find themselves in for a nasty surprise.
The most dangerous thing about Prey had never been his non-existent physical abilities, so even laid up in hospital like this, he was ready and more than willing to defend himself.
"What was the Night Guard doing over the mountains?" Strange demanded. That was rather more direct than Prey had been expecting. No false prelude or build up, just straight in.
Prey went for a cautious, non-answer, "What Princess Luna ordered them to do probably. I don't know."
"Not good enough. You were there, weren't you? Why are you avoiding a simple question?" Strange Happenstance immediately responded.
Prey shrugged uncomfortably, "Well whatever the Night Guard went to do, they didn't do a very good job of it, did they?" He said, looking around his hospital room. He also said 'they', not 'we', since it wasn't clear yet if Strange actually knew he was a participating member of the Night Guard or not.
"Why haven't your parents demanded you back from the custody of the Night Guard? Child employment is illegal. Your records show you came from across the Longridge. That's just a bit further on from the Ridgeback. What are you doing here?"
Zoma'Grika, so Strange did actually know. That was a lot closer to home than Prey was comfortable with, literally. Since when did he even have records? Gloom must've seen to creating some. Prey made himself stay calm, but there was no point pretending he wasn't a part of the Night Guard anymore.
"Orders from Captain Nighthawk to investigate a request for help from the villagers living there." Prey said.
Strange's heavy set brows drew together in a scowl, but about which bit of what he'd said, Prey didn't know, "Seems a bit strange to send a purely investigatory unit all the way across the mountains to help, don't you think? For what reason were you all taken out of Canterlot?"
'He hasn't mentioned anything about Mayflower or Alfalfa Dale or all the dead people. I don't think he knows about them.' Prey thought. Because if Strange did know, surely he would be far more outraged. Prey decided to make a subtle test of his next answer.
"If you have to ask, you already know the reason." Prey said, turning away petulantly. Strange gave him a sharp look.
"I know all about the ISND's role in overstepping their bounds in investigating the Royal Guard, but you and I both know that's not the reason you were sent, don't we, Prey?" Strange Happenstance asked, using Prey's name for the first time as he leaned forwards.
Prey's grumpy mask didn't falter for a second, even as his ribbon bearing forehoof shifted marginally closer to the unicorn, "What other reason could there be?"
"Does a certain lumber yard fire ring any bells?" Strange said knowingly.
Prey felt torn between laughing and tensing up. Laughing because Strange knew nothing about what had really happened over the mountains, and tensing up because the ISND's role involving Garrow and the lumber yard were supposed to have been covered up.
Strange Happenstance went on relentlessly; "Hundreds of thousands bits worth of damage was caused. The official story was one of the arrested salt dealers started the fire, but that's just a pretty excuse. Who gave you the order, Prey?"
"Me?" Prey exclaimed.
"The ISND," Strange snapped impatiently, "Who gave you ponies the order?"
"No one told us to start any fire."
"Then how did such an enormous blaze start? Why didn't the Night Guard do anything to stop the fire since you were already on scene, hmm?"
That fire had been started by Prey, but if all the Night Guards hadn't managed to draw the connection, there was no way for Strange Happenstance to know that either. "It was a fire. No one allows a fire to do anything, in case you haven't ever seen one."
"Mind your manners, or I'll mind them for you," Strange Happenstance said warningly, "Ponies died at the lumber yard, ponies that the Night Guard failed to save."
'Don't you mean two ponies and one griffin?' Prey thought, although the pegasus Oyster Pinion technically hadn't died at the Lumber Yard. Nor had Seashores for that matter actually, she'd died later in hospital.
"You're the one making light of their deaths with your false accusations." Prey shot back.
Strange gave Prey another look over as Prey's response was perhaps more grown up than one would've expected.
"False, am I? Then tell me, who gave the orders and who were the first officers on the scene?" He returned in a measured tone.
Prey didn't know precisely what Strange Happenstance was trying to investigate here. His questions had been wide ranging and rather more well informed than Prey would've liked, but with no clear aim that Prey could see. It made him all the more cautious.
"Well?" Strange barked, trying to startle a reactive answer out of him.
"Captain Nighthawk, and by extension, Her Royal Majesty." Prey said, another non-answer. Let this stallion try investigating Luna and see how long he lived.
"And the officer first on the scene?"
"I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to give out that information. Especially to you." Prey said.
"Ponies died at the lumber yard," Strange snapped hotly, eyes hard, "And before that, one Oyster Pinion was shot dead in his own flat which the Night Guard were occupying at the time. The ISND made a huge mistake that night, and you're all covering for each other. It's just one cover up after another."
Prey was watching the unicorn's horn for the first spark of magic as Strange rolled on, "The official story is Oyster Pinion was brazenly murdered by the same salt dealers who employed him. But that would mean they managed it with the Night Guard in the very same room. That's gross incompetence at the very least, yet no charges have been brought forward. If that story's even true."
"There was nothing anyone could've done. I don't know what you think really happened Strange Happenstance, but that's the real story." Prey said flatly. He did not add that he'd been one of those in the room at the time.
"If you don't have the talent to lie at least have the decency not to try. The truth always wins, it's only a matter of time until I find out what all the Night Guard is covering up and then-"
The door was shoved open, interrupting anything further the investigator had to say. Prey glanced up, expecting Crimson, however it wasn't just Crimson who came through, but Lieutenant Screech and another Night Guard too.
Screech's glare could've cut glass, "Who are you and how did you get in here? This is a restricted area."
Strange Happenstance leaned back on the stool, "Ah, the Night Guard, better late than never I suppose. I'm Strange Happenstance, Private Detective." He answered unconcernedly, flashing his badge.
'Private detective? He said he was an investigator. I thought he was part of the official investigators reviewing the Night Guard.' Prey thought. With how Strange Happenstance had gotten in this far, Prey had just assumed the unicorn had the authority to be here.
Screech's brows snapped together as he noted the implications too, "A private detective?"
"You introduced yourself as one of the investigators." Crimson accused flatly.
Strange smiled thinly, "You must have misheard me."
Crimson's face stayed blank, "I don't like liars."
"Neither do I. So as I said, you must've misheard me."
Strange Happenstance didn't seem at all worried about the Night Guards now surrounding him, merely waving them away, "If you could all kindly leave again, this witness hadn't finished answering my questions yet."
"Get out before I have you arrested." Screech growled, fangs showing.
Strange tiled his hat brim back, seemingly having expected this, "For what? I'm a private detective. I haven't broken any laws, I'm just doing my job."
"Wrong. Stretching the law by interpretation is still reasonable grounds for arrest." Screech said, slit eyes challenging Strange to try him.
The unicorn slowly reviewed the room, then just as slowly got up and adjusted his long coat, "I see. I'll take my leave from this misunderstanding and come back later."
"Misunderstanding my hoof. You're not to enter these premises again." Screech ordered, with Crimson on one shoulder and the thestral Night Guard mare on the other backing.
"As I said, a misunderstanding." Strange repeated, unperturbed.
"Then to prevent further misunderstandings, Private Briar can see you out of the building," Screech returned, "Bramble Briar, see him out immediately."
The second Night Guard stepped forwards and roughly pulled Strange Happenstance towards the door with a wing. Wisely, Strange went along without struggle. But at the door he turned back for one last parting shot, "I will find out what you're covering up. Set your clock by that, because it's coming."
"Keep moving, or I will move you." Bramble Briar ordered.
The door clicked shut, the muffled sound of departing hoof steps filtering back into the room.
Screech waited until the sound of hoof steps faded completely. Then he let out a long breath. He looked tired. Not nearly as tired as the five ISND members had looked very recently, (that number currently up for re-adjustment), but still tired nonetheless.
"How did that pony get through security? How did he even know about the ISND being in the hospital?" Crimson asked Screech, not deigning to use Strange Happenstance's name.
"I don't know, I'll have to talk with the staff and give them a firm reminder what 'restricted' means. It's only luck I was on my way here already."
So Crimson hadn't fetched the Lieutenant, although that was fairly self evident with how swiftly Screech had turned up.
"Do you think he'll try getting in again?" Crimson asked.
"I doubt it, but he'll not get the chance regardless. Just forget about him, he's nopony important." Screech advised, "You didn't tell him anything, right Prey?"
"No." Prey said, then thought it best to add, "Sir."
Screech shook his head, "I'm not sir to you at the moment. You're all on extended leave, I'm sure Crimson must've told you."
"He did, but he wasn't able to tell me the reason for our suspension."
"It's not a suspension, all of you did nothing wrong. It's not your fault. Nopony could've possibly foreseen Alfalfa Dale or Mayflower. You were not prepared or equipped to deal with something as messed up as that."
"Everyone's been telling me that ever since we arrived back here." Crimson spoke, catching both Prey and Screech slightly off guard.
"Telling you what?"
"That it's not my fault."
"Because it's not," Screech stressed, "That's a self destructive path, don't go down it. No clan elder could've done any better in your place. Sometimes there are no right choices, and you all did the best you could."
'-all those murdered ponies. When they found that mass grave, and those kindersnatch parasites...-', Screech forcibly broke off that train of thought with a shudder. "None of it's your fault."
Prey didn't echo the platitude. He knew as well as Crimson that logically knowing whose fault it was meant nothing for your conscience. Words were just words, and sorry didn't fix anything. And while Screech insisted it wasn't their fault, would everyone else see it the same way? How about the other Night Guards? Luna? The judges? Had Nighthawk meant any of what he'd said to Gloom, even?
So Prey just looked away and quietly retied the ribbon behind his ear, where the silk reminder firmly belonged.
"That said," Screech sighed heavily, "That's more or less the exact reason why I'm here. Gloom, or rather Sargent Gloom, is blaming himself. As his squad, and the only ones who were there when it happened, it's your duty to pull him through this."
'My duty? Duty? It was your duty to come to our aid. Why's it suddenly our duty now that you've failed yours? Where were any of you when we were bleeding and crying in the forest, huh?' Prey thought in a sudden flush of anger.
"Gloom deserves our help." Crimson said. It was a statement. But there was another hidden statement in there, one that only Prey got. Crimson wasn't agreeing that this was their fault, or assuring Screech that he hadn't failed them, Crimson was merely agreeing with the goal; help Gloom and stopping him from resigning.
But depending on how things went, perhaps resignation might be the best Gloom could hope for.
Screech hadn't meant any accusation or offence, but without having been there in the forest, he was still in the wrong for having not thought before he spoke.
"Gloom deserves our help," Crimson repeated, "As do Scenic and Lilly."
Yes, that was right. Scenic Paint and Lilly Blossom had both been there too at Mayflower. Thinking about the inevitable meeting where Prey was going to have to face and deal with the both of them was already making his stomach hurt. For now though at least, those two were both still confined to their hospital rooms and not allowed any visitors.
And Crimson so obviously wanted to help all of them.
'You're a better person than me Crimson.' Prey thought bleakly. He still felt like Gloom had betrayed them somehow, but since Crimson wanted to help, Prey would follow along and try his best to help. Prey owed Crimson and friendships were supposed to be give and take, or at least that's what Prey had heard.
Crimson wanted it, so Prey would gladly give him the help, even if he personally didn't want to see Gloom right now.
"Okay," Prey nodded to Screech, "I agree that they need help. What do you suggest?"
Screech gave a frustrated shrug of his leathery wings, "That's what I don't know. No clan has ever found a tried and true method of helping somepony who's... gone through something like this. What worked for one won't for another. Each pony's solution is highly individual."
"Gloom is from clan Myrrdon, same as you, is he not?" Crimson checked. It was strange to hear him off duty but having to talk to an officer on duty about work without adding the word "sir" onto every sentence.
"That's right. I knew Gloom when he was just a foal, but not well," Screech's tone was laden with regret, "I wish I could say I knew what's best and what would help him, but I don't think even Gloom's grandfather would know what to do to help him get past this."
"What about a kind word from his parents?" Prey suggested, already guessing the answer.
Screech blinked at them, "Gloom's parents both passed away over seven years ago. He didn't ever mention that?"
Prey had suspected as much, but Gloom had never actually verbally confirmed it to him. Maybe he had to Crimson, but that wasn't the sort of thing Gloom would've told Prey, and Prey would never have asked anyone such a question:
"He didn't, no."
"Would returning to visit the Myrrdon clan caves help?" Crimson suggested.
"I'm...afraid returning to the clans is off the table for the moment." Screech said delicately, but he didn't move to elaborate on why that was. Prey caught a flash of the reason in the Lieutenants thoughts, though:
'-the Border Guard have stepped up patrols, can't risk giving away the clan's location by visiting. Is it really just bad luck they stationed a reactionary force in the valley below our caves? Restricted information, but Princess Luna said she would see to it-'
'So you don't trust us with even this small truth. You shouldn't be surprised though Screech. It's the Border Guard. They're disloyal, lying, murdering traitors.' Always, now and forever, it was the damned Border Guard causing problems. Hadn't they caused enough harm already? If there was one thing Prey didn't regret about everything that'd happened, it was the deaths of Atlas and Shimmer.
Or Atlas and the Mimic pretending to be Shimmer.
"I hope you realise what we're doing now isn't just for Sargent Gloom, Lilly, and Scenic," Screech said, seriously looking at each of them in turn, "This is to help them, but it's also for the two of you. To get you both ready for... Whatever comes next."
Screech was saying both of them breaking down was a 'when', not an 'if'.
Well Screech wasn't wrong. No one just walked away from the sorts of things that'd happened in Mayflower unscathed. Prey and Crimson were no exception, however Screech was a bit late on the scene. They were already both cracked, and had been damaged since long before being forced to join the Night Guard. Prey knew it. Crimson knew it. But that was not something that anyone else needed to know. That was private.
"Hmm." Prey said.
Crimson just barely nodded.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Screech said, sounding very relieved that they were both taking his words so well, "But it is something to be controlled. And if you can't control it yourself, you need to ask for help."
'Wow. So simple. So... ponyish. Why didn't I think of that before?' Prey thought sarcastically.
Crimson's wing gave a flick. Screech winced as he caught the curt, displeased motion; "Look, I'm not good at speaking, you need Starry Wing for that. But that aside, we're here to find a way to help Gloom, Scenic, and Lilly."
Crimson briefly looked down at the jade chain around his neck and, if Prey was right, wished that this situation was one which could be solved with brute magical force, "I'm... not much better at talking either, si-I mean Screech. But Prey and I will both give it our best."
"That's all anypony can ask," Screech inclined his head, "However maybe if we were all to brainstorm some ideas that would help. Can either of you think of something?"
Prey made himself as comfortable as he was able to get on the bed, what with being a hospital patient and in this bed for a reason, and settled down. He had the feeling that this discussion was going to take far longer than the clock said it should.
---
So they sat, or lay in Prey's case, and talked, discussing what to do. Although it was mainly all Screech doing the talking, trying to galvanise them both into miraculously hitting upon a solution.
But what good could talking really do for Gloom, Scenic, or Lilly? But that's all they could do, which was, at Screech and Crimson's insistence, to try.
So after discussing and rejecting idea after idea, they decided it was best, (as if they had any experience to know what was best, but since no one else was stepping forwards, the decision was on them), to start by just trying to talk to all of them. And when that inevitably failed, to force Gloom, Scenic, and Lilly to talk some more.
Scenic and Lilly were Canterlot citizens, each with family in the city. Screech informed them that Nighthawk had already been in touch with both families, but Lilly was still in no condition to be seen by anypony. The mare was still in a coma, and the doctors still weren't sure if she'd ever wake up. It went silent after Crimson haltingly related that piece of information, tufted ears lowering in a public display of shame.
Prey bit his tongue feeling the almost irrational urge to comfort Crimson, because Crimson was openly signalling his feelings of guilt to Screech like this on purpose. Usually Crimson's emotions were only evident if you watched his wings. This was like him declaring what'd happened to Lilly, both with the Mama'duke and the meld wood, had been his fault.
Screech's warning about having to watch out for each other was coming true a lot sooner and more jarringly than the Lieutenant had expected. And that self same conversation hadn't even finished yet.
Prey knew it would be inappropriate to point out that if Lilly never woke, then the problem would take care of itself. Lilly had been a danger to all of their survival with her uncontrolled recklessness. He'd only saved her life with the meld wood because they'd forced him to.
"The doctors are trimming off the flower buds that are growing out of the meld wood, right?" Prey eventually asked, just to end the silence.
Screech was a sturdy pony, having come from the clan of blood drinkers after all, but even his thoughts turned queasy when he thought about Lilly Blossom's state.
"Yes, Gloom was very insistent that they... remember that detail." Screech said.
Good. So Gloom had at least been listening to Prey's explanation on meld wood. If the meld wood's growth wasn't kept in check from now on, it would eventually overtake the whole of Lilly's body. Again, not something he really cared about, but the rest of them did.
"That does raise another question..." Screech began, looking hard at Prey, "Nopony knew about meld wood on our arrival back in Canterlot, even the experts on magical flora and fungi we brought in. They only found it after a lot of digging in old outdated botanical guides. From the restricted section. Where did you learn about meld wood, Prey?"
'And there it is.'
Prey had known these problem questions were coming, and also that if he couldn't provide satisfactory answers, he would end up locked away again. However he wasn't expecting for Crimson to sharply cut in and defend him before he could even start his answer.
"Lieutenant Screech, you're overstepping. All of us would've died without Prey and everything he did which Sargent Gloom and I approved, or even forced him to do. If you want to blame somepo-someone, you'll have to blame us all." Crimson snapped.
Screech was stunned at Crimson's reprimand. Stunned, affronted, and a bit impressed. Technically, since Crimson was off duty, he could express any opinion he wanted, but it was more than that. Crimson was confronting and reprimanding a senior thestral. In the clans, a junior would only dare to do so if they were convinced their elder was completely in the wrong. And that's what Crimson was doing here.
Screech dipped his head after a moment, "I apologise and retract my question. Sorry Prey."
'-perhaps that was indeed a bit too aggressive of me. They've both been through a lot, and I'm judging something I wasn't there for-'
'At least that's put him off for now. But that question is going to get asked eventually. If not by him, then someone else. It's just an unfortunate matter of when.' Prey was certain of that.
---
Eventually, it was decided there was very little Prey and Crimson could do, aside from just trying to talk Gloom and Scenic around. And Lilly too, if she ever awakened.
Because really, what else could Prey or Crimson do? There was no miraculous solution to the problem. Hugs and friendship didn't solve anything.
Thus, they could only try talking it out, attempt to get Gloom to see sense and reconsider his resignation, and keep him from dwelling on what'd happened as much as possible. Because it was impossible to stop anyone from dwelling on something like that, even if the victims themselves wanted nothing more than to forget.
Life is cruel, and it loves to sting most viciously those who've already been stung once.
---
Finally Screech left, dissatisfied and worried, and all the more concerned because of some of the deeper details Prey and Crimson had alluded to.
Prey's throat was sore and dry after all that talking, and he reached for the glass of water, holding it between both hooves. After surviving poison though, Prey would gladly take a sore throat over the alternative. Crimson moodily picked at the bandage on his foreleg, apparently deep in thought and not liking what he was thinking about. Prey's eyes were drawn once again to the jade necklace Crimson wore. Without the power of that magical artifact, they would've all died back in Mayflower.
Prey took a sip of water, "Could I ask a bit more about your magical necklace, Crimson?"
Crimson blinked, returning his attention to the room, "Of course you can, although I'm not sure what I can tell you."
"I've seen what it can do, and I've theorised on its limits. It burns through the natural magic in your body, and then draws in ambient mana when your natural stores run out. And when those stores do, it leaves you exhausted and on the point of collapse without warning."
"Yes. It wasn't... pleasant." Crimson agreed.
"But it's still a marvellous artifact. It saved our lives. If you hadn't unlocked it when you did..."
Prey didn't need to finish. Crimson nodded solemnly, "We'd all be dead. It was very, very, very lucky that jade mane band turned out to secretly be a magical artifact. Luckier than I had any right to be. I find it hard to believe you really bought something as powerful as this off a trinket seller in the market."
Crimson looked intently at Prey when he didn't say anything in response. "Did you really Prey?"
It wasn't an accusatory question. Crimson would not report anything Prey said, he just wanted to know. Prey briefly hesitated, "I knew it was magical when I bought it, but never did I imagine it would be able to do all... whatever it does. It was old, and the vendor was trying to sell it off. He just said it was just a magical protection charm."
"Ah. So that's how it was."
All of that what Prey had said was the honest truth. The only thing he'd neglected to mention was the price.
Six-thousand, seven-hundred bits. Even in Canterlot, that was more than enough to buy a small house outright.
He felt guilty about hiding that fact from Crimson, but not about the money he'd spent on it. Back then, he'd owed Crimson. Now it went beyond merely owing. Besides, the spent gold was all stolen from Garrow anyway, so it was kind of fitting really. And considering everything he now knew about the jade necklace, if it wasn't stolen property in the first place, then Prey had robbed that underground market vendor blind.
"Could you tell me a bit more about what powers you think it gives you?" Prey asked.
"Aside from strength and speed, I'm not too sure. It did let me control the wind better and enhanced the edges of my father's wingblades, but all of that was unconscious. I don't know how I did it. It just happened." Crimson recalled, lifting the jade chain from his neck so that it twisted and sparkled.
"So that's a no then. It's all unconscious." Prey considered his next words carefully, "Would you lend it to me for a moment?"
Crimson tensed up. "Never mind," Prey said quickly, "I was just testing you, sorry."
"Testing? For what?"
Prey grimaced, "Magical artifacts, especially powerful ones, have been known to mentally corrupt their users and make them unwilling to give the artifact up."
"Is that happening to me?" Crimson asked, feathers bunching up.
"That...depends. What are your reasons for not wanting to lend the necklace to me? Despite having proven that only you can access its magic?"
Crimson thought deeply on his answer. "It wasn't that I was afraid you'd steal it, I know you wouldn't..." Crimson began slowly, "...It's just that it's mine. I paid the price, and it's mine. But that's the only reason. I mean, I think so at least."
Prey remembered what Crimson had said the necklace had done to him. The price it had extracted seemed to be a purely mental one, but not one to be paid lightly. Prey wasn't even a hundred percent sure what had initiated the thing activating in the first place, outside of maybe just Crimson being in need.
"It's precious to you." He noted simply.
"Very. After what I paid for it, and how it saved us all, how could it not be?" Crimson said simply, "Could you any more give me your ribbon?"
Prey's hoof flew up protectively to the length of silk without even meaning to. Crimson nodded, "Exactly. I don't know why a ribbon means so much to you, I just know that it does. I... would be honoured if one day you would tell me?"
"Perhaps one day." Prey agreed slowly.
"Thank you," Crimson said, just as seriously as Prey had spoken, "But my point is, I feel the same way about this necklace." He finished, raising a hoof to the jade chain.
Then unexpectedly, he pulled the necklace over his head, leading to his mane getting all mussed up, and held it out to Prey, "Here, take it for a moment."
"Why?" Prey asked, not making any move to do so, "You just said it isn't mentally influencing you, so there's no point in testing."
"I need to make sure. Please take it from me." Crimson insisted, giving the outstretched necklace a shake.
Cautiously, Prey did so, his hoof passing only inches from Crimson's as he took it. The moment the chain left Crimson's grip, the green light deep within the jade went out. Prey held it delicately, feeling dirty for touching something so obviously precious and private to Crimson. He didn't think he could've so easily hoofed over his ribbon to Crimson if their situations were reversed.
"Well, do you feel anything strange?" Prey asked.
Crimson closed his eyes and looked like he was focusing inwards. Eventually he opened his eyes again.
"No," He said with a touch of relief, "No weird dark compulsion to snatch it back. Just my own concern for my possessions."
"That is a relief." Prey said, quickly passing the necklace back, and it was a relief. He didn't want to think he'd given Crimson a mentally corrupting artifact even by mistake, the pegasus's impressive mental walls notwithstanding.
"It certainly is." Crimson agreed with feeling, ducking his head to slide the chain back on. The green light in the jade's depths sparkled back into life immediately.
Was it just Prey, or was Crimson openly displaying more emotion recently?
"I should go." Crimson said after a minute.
"You don't have to. I mean, you could stay and... we could talk more?" Prey offered.
"I do have to go. You are not well, and I do have things I am supposed to do. I'll try and find Gloom again. And the doctor insisted you shouldn't really be having visitors. So Screech politely told him he didn't know what he was talking about." Crimson added as an afterthought.
"Alright. Come back again?"
"Of course. I mean, I look forward to it." Crimson said. Prey was also already looking forward to Crimson's next visit too, and not just because he was stuck in a hospital bed with nothing else to do.
"Thank you for coming by. Until next time, I guess."
"Yes. Until then. I will see you then, yes. Goodbye Prey." Crimson said, somewhat awkwardly as he stood to leave.
Prey smiled as widely as the bandages would allow, feeling silly and not caring, "Yep. See you next time."
------
It's a boring truth, but there is precious little to do in a hospital. After all and at the end of the day, no one actually wants to be in there.
Aside from eating at meal times and sleeping whenever possible, all you can really do is wait in discomfort to heal. And the more intense the discomfort or pain, the slower the time drags.
But Prey had experience with being trapped in a small room with nothing to do but wait. Fifty-seven years of experience to be precise, unwillingly gained in Dreverton.
---
Prey was hot and tired. He was also having trouble falling back to sleep after already sleeping for fourteen hours, and his bandages and stitches stretched painfully every time he moved. On top of that, he'd developed a headache for no reason he could identify, and every now and then, off and on, his eyes and blistered cheeks started stinging savagely.
But all of this was a hundred times better than even one day spent in Dreverton.
In there he'd just been a number, 452, a prisoner locked away and forgotten. Whereas out here he was, well not free, the gold bands on his forelegs ensured that, but he was sort-of free.
The doctor had come back seven more times through the course of the evening to keep taking Prey's readings again. He was still seeing black spots from the doctor shining a light in his eyes. The same nurse also came back with a bunch of foals' colouring books which she'd thought; "You might like."
Prey shoved them to the side the moment she left and went back to mentally making plans. When Lemon Pink got back, the veropedes would need to be sheltered and fed, plus, he needed some kind of work space or secret lab where he could study the Mimic's body Lemon was also bringing back. There were, of course, all his other projects from 'The List' ticking along too, but Lemon Pink's imminent return was the most pressing issue at the moment.
'For a good lair, the key aspects are space, security, accessibility, and secrecy. Hmm. Where to get those?'
The dinner trolley came around at some point, delivering the evening meal to all the patients. Prey checked his dinner for poison, his latest uncomfortably close brush with poisoning at the forefront of his mind.
The tomato salad really was awful. Better than Cookie's, but then, since mouldy hay dipped in pond water was arguably better than some of Cookie's experiments, that didn't count for much. It reminded Prey of the tasteless blocks of food served in Dreverton. Prey ate the salad anyway, and then lay down patiently waiting for another three long hours before sleep came.
---<O>---
Prey briefly dreamt of the reaper king hunting him through the pine forest, before deciding to take control of the dream and change it to something more pleasant.
His outer mindscape bulged thinly, like a balloon with too much air in it, before collapsing back in on itself and settling down into a different scene.
There, a more real dream, one without any true rhyme or reason. One where birds flitting through pine trees hiding from the sun. Some carried ribbons in their beaks, and others red feathers. Having succeeded in their unknown goals, the birds morphed into giant, ponderous woodlice and ambled away.
Satisfied, Prey left himself drift in the deep purple waters of his inner mindscape, half conscious mind continuing to plot and plan in the background. Like ants, marching up and down the ant hill, carrying one pebble at a time. Time. Time.
---
'You could've taken Hard Baked for your own, yez'? Iz' lonely in here. How about some company?' Garrow whispered gleefully.
Prey wasn't awake, but he felt nothing but annoyance for the malignant suggestions mixing into his mindscape and dream. Angry annoyance. He'd dealt with Snake's remnant only recently. Now Garrow's remains decided they wanted a turn too.
'Take what waz' hiz'. Make it ours, yez'? Iz' the right of the victor, take from the defeated. Sweet sweet sweet. Sweet iz' victory. And revenge. Revenge iz' the sweetest.'
Make it shut up and it goes away. Prey was sick of hearing a dead griffin's mad suggestions, and worst of all because they came from inside and were part of him, they somehow sounded like good suggestions.
'Sweet blood on my clawz' and on my tongue. Oh iz' sweet. Pony blood sweeter than griffin, yez'?'
Prey's dreamscape shook, purple storm clouds blooming and turning black. Within his head, the foggy taste of ashes began to blanket everything, 'Be silent dead crow. You're nothing, a bad memory only. I am the only one in control.'
The taste of distant ashes on the grey wind faded away, and the deep ocean waters calmed. The griffin's remnant went without a sound, and the peace of the nonsensical dream returned.
---<O>---
Prey awoke on his back, and very surprised he hadn't woken up to whip scar cramping.
The lack of such a delightful wake up call, or Gloom's infernal alarm clock, was definitely a positive way to start the day. Even Garrow's petulant demand for a turn hadn't been that bad once he'd banished it again. Why, he'd even gotten a peaceful night's uninterrupted sleep afterwards.
Then of course reality noticed this discrepancy and immediately jumped in to correct its oversight with a swift buck to the back of the head.
Oh yes, that was right. He was still in hospital, he was still in some amount of pain, his eyesight hadn't gotten any better, and he was still a prisoner of Nighthawk and Luna, both of whom would come demanding answers at some point.
Besides, how positive a start to the morning was that anyway?
If you're waking up and gratefully counting the things which haven't gone wrong yet, as opposed to the things which have gone right, you're using a flawed measuring stick to begin with.
The other, and perhaps much more influential reason for why the day speedily went downhill from opening his eyes, was because despite Crimson coming back to visit like he said he would, the doctors also deemed Prey well enough to take short, supervised walks for exercise.
This was a problem because after breakfast, it was decided that Prey should be taken to see Scenic Paint and Lilly Blossom.
---
Lilly lay unmoving under the hospital blanket. There was a white curtain drawn around her bed, although she had the room to herself. A number of unknown machines with magical crystals housed in them were hooked up to the prone mare's body. The only sound in the room as Crimson, Prey, and the one orderly who'd escorted them stood there was a quiet little *blip* from one of the magical devices every second or so.
It felt like they were in the presence of a dead person, like this was a funeral wake, and the Lilly before them was already a corpse.
Prey had seen corpses which looked better too. True, he'd also seen many which were way worse, but that did not change how bad Lilly Blossom personally looked.
Her missing leg, or what had replaced it, was suspended in a sling out to the side of the bed. The leg could've been a peg leg or part of some fancy dress, if not for the way it was sickeningly grafted into the shoulder's stump. But worst of all was still Lilly's face. The roots which grew out of the flesh, up her face, and looped around her horn really did look reminiscent of the grisly spectacle they'd found inside that one kindersnatch. And all those white bandages and dressings which sought to cover up the meld wood somehow just made it worse by focusing the eye.
Prey examined the work of his own hoof. Without it, Lilly would be dead. But if she awoke, would she see it that way? Or would she seek revenge? Prey was determined it wasn't going to be his problem.
Gloom had ordered him to operate, and Crimson had flown to bring the meld wood. But even so...
Prey had hated Lilly for her arrogant behaviour, (still did actually), but it was more a worn, simmering sort of hate, no longer hot and fresh. Right now, knowing that Lilly would likely never cast another spell again even if she regained consciousness, he couldn't help but think about what he would feel in her place.
Prey turned away and hobbled out the door to wait outside. The orderly started to protest that he should stay and talk to Lilly, even if she wasn't awake. Prey ignored him, and Crimson told the orderly to; "Leave Prey alone."
Crimson himself did choose to stay in the room for a while longer, although Prey didn't hear him saying anything to Lilly. When Crimson finally emerged, neither of them said anything and instead wordlessly headed towards Scenic's room with the orderly guiding, their pace painfully slow to accommodate Prey's limp and frequent rest stops.
Prey despised showing weakness in front of anyone. Not so much Crimson anymore, but because of the orderly, even if the stallion was a hospital worker and no doubt saw this all the time.
No, Crimson wasn't the problem. Prey just wished Crimson didn't keep anxiously glancing at his back every time Prey stopped, as if his whip scars were going to go burst into spasms at any moment. He wasn't about to suddenly keel over, thank-you-very-much.
In hindsight, admitting to Crimson that, yes, he did get cramps when the red pegasus had pushed to know hadn't been the smartest idea.
---
"So how bad are they?"
"Oh, you know, have to lie still awhile and wait for the cramps to pass. Just when I wake up sometimes."
---
Prey really should've thought a bit harder about so blasély admitting that. But since Crimson, and by extension everyone else the doctors had told already knew, he hadn't seen much point in denying it since anyone could've figured out as much themselves.
Internally, Prey was still furious with the doctors for having examined him and spread that information around without his permission. Those scars were private, and no one else had any right to know about them, especially not soft privileged doctor ponies.
However Prey couldn't do anything about that now, the information was out in the open. The chance to contain it by wiping all of the doctors' memories had passed. Plus, that option would've involved editing Crimson's memories too so he wasn't keen on it. At least Crimson knew better than to openly bring the matter up again, just as Prey knew not to ask about Crimson's new scars again either.
Presently, they arrived at Scenic's room. However, it was obvious before they got there that Scenic already had visitors. Which was strange, because Prey distinctly remembered being told all visitors were banned from seeing any of the still healing ISND.
Mentioning strange, could it be Strange Happenstance had snuck back into the hospital to try again? Or perhaps an overly ambitious reporter?
Prey flicked a glance up at Crimson, conveying his suspicions with a look. Crimson's expression hardened and he strode ahead before the orderly could stop him, and shoved the door open.
The three ponies inside froze as they turned to find Crimson standing in the doorway.
They were definitely not Strange Happenstance, nor reporters either for that matter. Reporters generally aren't Earth ponies, or middle aged, or a couple from the way the mare was clinging to the stallion, or had cutie marks depicting painting, or, from comparing their features to Scenic Paint's own, were family.
There was a frozen moment as everyone stared at each other.
The stallion, a deep green pony wearing a puffed silk shirt and dark waistcoat, was the first to react.
"Excuse me, but this is a private family meeting with our son. If you're sharing the room with Spot, kindly wait outside until we're quite finished." He said, a curt snap to his voice as he obviously mistook Crimson for just another patient because of the bandages and stitches still adorning the pegasus. The waistcoat the older stallion wore was crumpled, and his shirt had what looked suspiciously like tear stains on the shoulder closest to the mare.
Crimson ignored the stallion, looking instead to Scenic.
"Is everything under control?" He asked Scenic. The Earth pony was propped up in bed, but he was almost as heavily bandaged up as Lilly had been, with his left hind leg and right foreleg both in splints. His face was sallow, and the gauze pads under his eyes were the thickest Prey had seen out of all four of them who'd suffered the reaper king's poison.
Scenic was wearing a frozen smile that looked as fake as the potted plant in the corner. "Uh, hey Crimson. Thanks for coming by. Mom, dad, this is Crimson. Crimson, my mom and dad."
The mare with eyes gone pink from crying sniffed, "Crimson?" She asked in a warbling voice, "Crimson, as in the pony from your squad who-"
The mare's brows abruptly snapped together, "You're the one who let Paint Spot get hurt!"
Her husband's strong hoof on her shoulder stopped the mare from leaping up, "Dear, we've been over this." He muttered in an undertone, but his wife was having none of it.
"You come in here after what you did to my son? The gall! You force him to join your Nightmare Guard, you throw him to the wolves, and then you won't even let him out of your watch long enough to let him talk to his own blood family?"
To say the mare was upset would be an understatement. She was basically hysterical, the large pearls around her neck getting tangled with her bushy purple mane as she shook her head like a fox with a rat.
"And you Scenic Paint! No contact in over a year over some stupid disagreement about your arts degree, like a foal who doesn't get his way and then this is what finally gets you back in contact!" She shrieked at Scenic.
"Wha-? Me? You're the ones who refused to speak to me-"
"Don't you dare try to put this on us and your mother!" The stallion barked, and Scenic flinched, "We won't take the blame for your poor life choices, no matter how much it pained us to have to watch you make them."
Prey did not know what to think as the room descended into a hoarse shouting match between the three Earth ponies. Well, two of them shouted, while their son mainly just looked miserable and tried to get a word in edgeways.
Prey could not imagine ever saying a word back to his mother, never in a thousand years. No, not his mother, Gossamer's mother. While he knew there were many dysfunctional and strained familial relationships out there, and each was its own minor tragedy, he just couldn't ever see himself in their place.
Gossamer's mother had been kind, loving, and gentle, and everything she'd ever cared about in the whole world had been Fleece and Gossamer.
But this, the argument happening in the room before him while Crimson just looked on and the orderly cringed and hid out of the line of sight, Prey just didn't get. Logically he understood, but anymore than that? He just didn't get it. How could your parents not love you? And you them?
And yet somehow, they managed. Scenic's mother still had tears in her eyes as she yelled at her son, but there was no sign of her anger turning into a teary reunion:
"I begged, begged you as your mother to reconsider this Royal Guard fad. This is what I knew would happen, you're lucky to be alive. Do you want us to have to bury you?"
Her thoughts were just as twisted with anger, '-I brought you into this world, nopony has the right to stop me from saving you from yourself-'
"You didn't ask me nothing!" Scenic protested, "You just signed me up to the university-"
"And if you'd gone like we'd paid for-!"
"You're rich, this was never about the money dad and you know it." Scenic tried to cut across.
"It's about what's right! You're our son and you have a duty to us, just like we have a duty to you. You are a painter. It is your heritage and your mark, and by Celestia so help me you are going to do it!"
Scenic's thoughts were showing him to be mortified, angry, and scared all at once to be having this argument while Prey and Crimson looked on; "I told you dad, I don't want to be a painter just because my cutie mark says so. I want to make my own way in life. I'm grateful for everything you've done for me, but-"
"You're not grateful!" His mother screamed, "You give up this poisonous dream and you come home right now!"
"What, just get out of bed and walk home?" Scenic shot back, "You, you, you blind bat! I'm in hospital! I almost died! You don't even know what I, what we saw, you don't care about... Y-you're just jumping on the first opportunity to make me do what you want and be a stupid painter!"
Scenic's father reached out a hoof and sharply smacked Scenic's splinted hind leg. Scenic let out a wordless shout of pain as his father glared, "No matter the circumstances, I will not have you bad mouth how we raised you. Even if you try to run away, you will speak with respect for the noble profession your mother and I have laboured diligently in our entire lives."
Scenic glared at his father, eyes only slightly watering, "I love art, I always have. What I hate is you two forcing me to spend my whole foalhood in boarding school just to become some stupid painter like your parents forced you-"
The older Earth pony stallion's hoof shot out to smack Scenic's injured leg again, but he found Crimson's wing suddenly blocking him.
"Your son is injured. Refrain from making it worse." Crimson said calmly as he pushed the stallion's hoof back down to the floor.
"Or else what?"
"Or you will be removed from the hospital until you're both better able to control yourself next time." Crimson responded calmly.
"You know what?" Scenic raised his voice, "Just get out now! Don't come back, there won't be a next time!"
"You are not in control of yourself either Scenic." Crimson tried to say, but it was pointless, because Scenic's words incited them all into descending into shouting over one another again.
Prey winced at the volume assaulting his ears. None of the Earth pony family were even listening to each other, just trying to shout the loudest. Prey noticed another three orderlies and nurses hurrying up the corridor towards the source of all the shouting.
"What's going on here?"
None of the shouting participants stopped or even acknowledged the new orderlies. The orderly who'd accompanied Prey and Crimson tried to explain; "I don't know, they were arguing when I got here and then they just started shouting."
The lead nurse who'd arrived quickly made the decision.
"This is a hospital, not a rodeo. You, take these two patients back to their rooms," She ordered, meaning Prey and Crimson, "Everypony else, help me escort the parents to the lobby."
Crimson wasn't actually a patient at the hospital, although he sure looked like he was still one what with the bandages. Wisely, he didn't add to the mess by trying to point this out, and instead let the assigned orderly lead or rather limp him and Prey away without protest. The shouting and outrage faded behind them as Scenic's parents, whom Prey hadn't actually gotten the names of, were gently but firmly herded down a different corridor.
"Well..." Prey said after a minute, "If it wasn't clear before, I think we can say for certain why Scenic joined the Guard."
Crimson's wings shifted restlessly at his sides, "I thought, I mean, how can Scenic not be on good terms with his parents?"
"You didn't know? He never hid the fact." Prey said.
"No. I had no idea."
"Alright, Scenic never hid it well," Prey amended, "Still, I didn't expect them to be... quite so hostile and fiery with each other." He admitted, pausing to rest.
Crimson looked back the way they'd come, speaking in a low voice so their orderly escort wouldn't hear, "How could a family let itself grow so twisted over merely painting? That's beyond petty."
"Petty is the right word, but here in Canterlot profession and heritage can be a big thing. Bigger than family apparently." Prey said, letting his disdain clearly show.
"Petty," Crimson agreed again, "But that isn't our concern. Only Scenic's recovery is."
Prey hadn't expected Crimson to say anything else, "Of course." He agreed.
------
The only person missing from their little cake walk of emotionally unstable people for today was Gloom, but the Sargent opted not to come by again.
Eventually, Crimson had to leave, both to get himself some lunch, (since he wasn't actually a patient here), and to try again finding Gloom to talk some sense into.
Prey asked what Crimson was doing outside of the hospital, since he was on enforced leave, and thus didn't have any Night Guard related obligations.
Crimson admitted he'd tried to get Screech or Starry Wing to let him back into work as a Night Guard, even if it was just doing paperwork, but they'd both kicked him out of their office and told him not to come back until the whole of the ISND were all healthy again.
Screech had allowed Crimson to keep using the ISND's old bunk room though.
"We do have those flats we were forced to rent." Prey had pointed out.
It was a side note, but he'd also left his potted plants and Crimson's Blood Fern behind to be looked after by Lemon Pink. Except she'd come across the mountains after him, so the pot plants were probably long wilted by now, but hey, it was a small price to pay for still being alive. He'd need to find Crimson a replacement Blood Fern to say sorry though.
Crimson had twitched at Prey's suggestion, before reluctantly admitting; "I know. However... I don't want to go there by myself."
Well, that had been that, and Prey certainly wasn't going to push Crimson if the pegasus didn't want to. It may have been a childish fear, like being scared of the dark, but only to people who hadn't been there, who hadn't survived what Crimson had survived. He was more than entitled to his small fears.
"Well, okay. So, what do you do with all that free time then?"
Spare time was a dangerous thing after what had happened. It gave you the opportunity to stop and think. If you were strong enough to stay firm, you'd come out the other side of the experience better for it. If you weren't, then the time of reflection would break you instead.
The way Crimson paused told Prey that while he was not breaking, it was still hard. "I... fly."
"You fly?"
"Yes. I go flying. Lots."
"During all that spare time?" Prey asked.
"Yes. Flying helps, and it is the one thing I am good at that isn't fighting. I need the exercise, and it sets me free."
Prey had heard pegasi and thestrals speak of flying before, and it sounded like something he, as a non-flier, could never fully appreciate. There seemed to be something freeing in flying beyond what he, as a ground-bound species, could ever understand.
Hearing someone like Crimson use words like "love" and "sets me free", Prey felt a pang of jealousy that he would never get to know it for himself simply because of how he'd been born. He was a sheep, and a runt sheep at that. Flight was a gift forever beyond his reach.
"I'll be back later today Prey." Crimson said, saying goodbye.
Back in his bed, Prey tiredly waved Crimson goodbye. Even that short, and admittedly very leisurely walk around the hospital had left him feeling exhausted, "Sure. And I'll be here. Waiting."
'There isn't anything else to do in a hospital but wait.'
For the eyes of Sr. Captain Nighthawk of the Night Guard only:
Please see attached report. As per your instructions, I have completed a review on the physical and mental state of ISND following the debacle on the Equestrian border.
Lt. Screech
---{#{#}#}---
I am no psychiatrist sir, but bluntly put, my evaluation of the ISND has left me concerned. Reasons as follows:
Sgt. Dusky Gloom - He feels incapable of completing his duty anymore. Feels responsible for not stopping the murders carried out by the warlock Hard Baked. Takes the blame for the state of his unit, (see further details attached below). Sgt. Gloom has confided in me he intends to resign. I strongly urge you not to accept his resignation sir. He is a good Night Guard, and further, I do not think quitting will help him recover in the long run.
Physically, Dusky Gloom will make an almost full recovery. He sustained no major wounds, a small miracle in itself I am told by the hospital.
However, each ISND pony (aside from Prv. Lilly Blossom) has sustained lingering eye damage. Cause: an unidentified airborne poison. Without being a doctor, I do not know if this eye damage could simply be remedied with spectacles.
Conclusion for Dusky Gloom: It is not his physical health I am worried about.
//---\\
Private Lilly Blossom - Condition still uncertain. Comatosed. Physical condition appalling. Doctors have concluded she will never be able to use her magic again. The parasitic meld wood absorbs her magic and life force, but at present, operating to remove the wood will result in her certain death.
The meld wood was introduced into Prv. Lilly Blossom's system to save her life I am told, on the orders of Sgt. Dusky Gloom. However the ISND are reluctant to provide details. I have not pushed at this time, but Prey seems to have been involved with the process somehow. It is worrying. (See details on page 2)
Prv. Lilly Blossom's family are being forbidden to visit by the hospital. I am almost certain they intend to sue and make problems for Princess Luna and the Night Guard. (See details on page 3) They've threatened going to the newspapers. I do not know what will happen if/when we grant them permission to see their daughter. I can see no happy outcome.
Conclusion for Lilly Blossom: If she ever awakes, she will need a long time to recover mentally and physically. I am sad to write that I fear it may be never.
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Private First Class Crimson Trace - Physical condition is the best, or rather the least injured out of the ISND, (aside from eyesight once again). A reason both Crimson Trace and Dusky Gloom attribute to the unexpected and lucky find of a magical artifact. (See details on page 4).
I do not think the artifact is dangerous, but I am not a unicorn. The artifact still remains unidentified at this time, but will not work for anypony but Crimson Trace. I strongly advise having an expert check it as soon as possible. Prv. Crimson Trace seems very possessive of the artifact. Cause for concern?
Conclusion for Crimson Trace: Physically the same as Dusky Gloom but better off. Mentally, I am not even sure sir. But taking into account his history before induction into the Night Guard, I estimate not well. Crimson just seems to be burying it deeper than Sgt. Gloom. I am unsure which is worse. I do not know what, if anything, can be done to help.
Further note: Prv. Crimson Trace has openly admitted he is unwilling to share some details. My recommendation: Do not push.
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Private Scenic Paint - Physically will recover, but possible lingering effects. Eyesight also damaged. Likely to suffer the worst facial scarring out of the four poison victims, as previously highlighted. Sadly, I am led to doubt these scars will only be confined to the physical.
Mentally, I am once again deeply concerned. Scenic Paint feels he is useless, and due to lack of experience and training, is traumatised. He is also observed by doctors to be unable to sleep in the dark anymore without a night light.
Prv. Scenic Paint, like everypony else, has not been able to elaborate in detail on the events of how exactly Lilly Blossom came to be in her present condition. Specifically, the night it happened. He refuses to discuss it, same as Sgt. Gloom.
The only details all the ISND agree on is that any such place coming under the name or term "Wolf Woods" or "Wolfing Woods" must be avoided at all costs. I strongly recommend adding this warning to the file. Details diverge between individuals on what happened that night. If not for their firm testimonies, I might suspect exhaustion or possibly a hallucination. But it is not so.
Conclusion on Scenic Paint: Longer physical recovery required for legs to heal. Seemed to indicate he might resign too. Mental state is, in a word, sadly: bad.
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Private Prey (No family name) - I'll start with the physical sir, as that is the easiest to assess here. It is still most disturbing.
Prv. Prey shows previously unknown signs of physical abuse, namely multiple deep whip scars. This only came to light when doctors were performing a full examination. Twelves whip scars, at least two years old, putting Prey's age at eleven or twelve when receiving them. Nopony was aware of these scars before the doctors uncovered them. Prey will not say. Sir, I have no idea how to proceed. Strongly recommend getting in contact with Prey's family immediately and asking them some strong questions.
Current injuries are in line with those also received by Scenic Paint, Crimson Trace, and Dusky Gloom. Eyesight also damaged.
Conclusion on Prey: Physical, see above. Mentally, I am at a loss. And worried. Following the Garrow salt trade incident, warning flags were raised by Sgt. Dusky Gloom. Now, even more so. Sir, I can no longer in good faith suggest employing a foal, but I do not have the authority to make that decision, only Princess Luna does. The only redeeming point of this situation I can find is that Prey seems very close with Crimson. They will help one another get through this.
I haven't yet broached the topic of how Prey was able to construct a mine field of lethal traps, again on Sgt. Dusky Gloom's orders.
Recommendation: A very close watch needs to be kept on Prey and his actions in the future as he grows up, even after/if he is discharged from the Night Guard.
Final note on Prey: There is something missing which for the life of me I just cannot put my hoof on sir, although I have no grounds for my speculation.
Signed,
Lt. Screech
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