//------------------------------// // Sap Sack // Story: Trot Buddies! // by shortskirtsandexplosions //------------------------------// Two by two, the denizens of Flash's world proceeded down the long crystalline hallway, headed towards their destination. The teenage stallion could see an open door to a large chamber at the far end. There was a slight flicker of light—which Flash could only assume was from the portal that would lead them home. In any other circumstance, Flash mused, he would probably find this current situation decidedly eerie. It was very dreamlike, watching the procession of colorful equines ahead of him marching in firm lines towards a creepily-lit room inside a megalophobia-inducing castle interior. Even seeing his own hooves beneath him and feeling the feathery coil of his wing muscles induced more melancholy than despair. He was minutes away from leaving this whole ordeal behind him, and yet he felt sad that it was all going to dissolve in a matter of moments. The last two days were spent as an other-worldly horse thing, and yet Flash could have been more terrified by it. He should have been more terrified by it. The first thought that rippled through his head is that he should be thanking Sunset Shimmer for pacifying the entire situation—her and her closest friends who supported her brave act as Equestrian chaperon. But Flash it wasn't quite that simple anymore... Out the corner of his eye, he detected blue limbs. A fuzzy complexion. Silk white mane hair. And an upturned muzzle that belonged to the most adorable asshole in the universe. The last forty-eight hours should have been nothing but confusion, uncertainty, pain, ache, and aggravation. But instead—for Flash—the last forty-eight hours were Trixie. Trixie and her prissiness, Trixie and her boasting, Trixie and her insensitivity, Trixie and her ramblings... There were times when he wanted to piledrive her. Many occasions, he hoped against hope over switching trot buddies. He'd even been offered it by the powers that be—but he kept steady. Because Trixie being Flash's forty-eight hours meant keeping sane in the end, and perhaps even more than that. He glanced aside. He observed her haughty, stately walk—a charade that he had gradually understood how to see through. The traces of a rosy blush hung on her features, no doubt residue from her brush with a very attractive sorceress. Both of their bodies were about to transform into something blissfully familiar, and yet all Flash could think about was if she'd arrive home safely and get to eat peanut butter crackers in comfort and have a good night's sleep... ...and maybe—just maybe, Flash figured—friendship shared many of the same colors of love... without having to cross over some forbidden, unnecessarily pompous river. And if something so simple, basic, and pure could share those very same hues, then perhaps he had been painting the wrong picture all this time. There was a lot in life to be happy for. Flash had a lot of things to be happy for. What he was missing—what he was starved of—was largely in his mind... if he had such regular access to so much joy around him at any given time. People had been around to show him. Sunset—for one—attempted to open his eyes on many... many an occasion. He still had been too dumb to see it... too self-deprecating to embrace it. It wasn't particularly Sunset Shimmer's fault. Her approach was that of “tough love,” after all, but it was necessary in its delivery. The execution of a fine lesson—however—had been far from perfect, until now... when Flash had to grind through the sheer fabric of discomfort. All this time, perhaps, he had been avoiding truly challenging things, mildly satisfied to exist within the bubble of his own comfortable sadness. But anger, joy, annoyance, concern—these were all very strange muscles to flex, and yet Flash endured an absolute workout over the past forty-eight hours. And now that the sweat was still fresh and clinging, he couldn't imagine returning home any other way. In another reality, there was a loathsome teenage guitarist sitting stranded on the beach and staring at a sinking cruise ship, and Flash was mortified to think that such a doppelganger would never see the light. All in all, Flash had only one person—or pony—to thank for all of this. And it killed him to know that it'd just be swallowed up in some two-dimensional purr of a quirky on-stage braggart. But perhaps—in consideration of the pros and cons of all sentient voids—that was the best kind of wall for him to throw his feelings against. In the end, he was alone with himself... his slightly new and slightly more alive self. And that was something he was happy to live with. “Soooooo...” Flash finally spoke aloud in mid-trot. The doorframe to the chamber was slowly approaching, and there'd be little to no time left for being a pony. “...what's the first thing you're going to do once you're human again?” “Guh!” Trixie exhaled in a huff. “Are you joking?! Trixie is going to take a good long shower, of course! The stink of horse may be good for circuses, but not for Trixie!” Flash ignored the fact that there was objectively no stink. In fact—as adorable tiny horses—they both smelled better... if not sweeter than they ever had before in their lives. “Aren't circuses commonly attached to the concept of magic acts?” Flash asked. “A wickedly stupid stereotype if Trixie ever heard one!” The mare stuck her little tongue out. “I wouldn't expect you to understand, of course...” “Yeah...” Flash nodded. “Not many rock concerts performed at circuses.” “Perhaps sap-sack should switch to country or southern rock,” she suggested. He skipped past her new-ish nickname for him. “Does that mean you'd want me to perform at circuses?” “No...!” Trixie fidgeted in mid-trot. “...but if Trixie was ever tempted to take up stage at one when it was in town, it would... mmmmff... help m-mitigate the discomfort by having someone like you around to share in the misery...” Flash smirked lightly. “Be careful. Misery's not a very good thing to base a friendship on.” “Who said anything about friendship?!?” Trixie barked. Flash blinked. He felt a cold pit in his chest, and it pulled his ears back so that they folded sadly against his horsehead. He avoided his gaze, trotting with a slight quiver— “But... erm... Trixie isn't entirely adverse to such a thing,” the mare muttered, and her voice sounded like something between scared and desperate. “She might even brave a circus to... pr-protect it?” Flash's insides warmed back up instantly. His ears perked as he looked her way. “Don't worry, Trixie.” A courageous wink. “I won't force you to go to any circuses.” Her ears were perking up as well. “And Trixie won't force sad-sack to play country!” “Heh... deal.” Trixie shrugged, returning once more to her haughty stance. “Of course, Trixie might suggest sap-sack try some Irish folk.” Flash shrugged back. “Sigh no more.” The back of the line shuffled through the door... ...and they embraced the portal in all its glory.