Tracy's week off went by in a blur so rapid he could barely grasp it in his fingers.
Technically he didn't have fingers for any of it, which was part of the problem. Spending so long in Equestria without stepping outside even once wreaked havoc on his perceptions. He didn’t have nightmares about being trapped with stumps instead of hands. Instead, he woke in a cold sweat Thursday morning trying to reconcile the thin, bony digits that grew from his hooves.
How could they be so thin? How had he managed to keep them all for more than two decades now, and not get them caught in car doors or blenders or the mouths of carnivorous fish?
Waking brought clarity, but still left him feeling shaken. What would happen if he couldn't tell which world was his anymore?
Of course he had the very best company during his break, though Rose still left several times a day for brief shifts at the flower shop.
It was during one of these that there was a knock at the door on the Equestrian side. He almost ignored it out of habit, but a glance towards the door showed him that the windows were open, and the pony on the other side could see him at the kitchen table. He pressed the laptop lid closed, hobbling over to the door and opening it with his mouth.
"Afternoon Muffins," he said, as politely as he could. "Something for Rose?"
It was just a letter, but he couldn't quite bring himself to ask why she hadn't just put it through the slot. Saying anything unkind to her felt a little like deliberately stomping on a garden.
"For you, Tracy," she said, proffering it. "It's... a little late, sorry about that. I wasn't sure where the pony with that name lived... I knew we'd talked once before. Sorry."
He took it. There was an address scribbled under his name, just like any message sent on Earth. But if Muffins's boss let her do the mail by learning where everyone lived, who was he to tell her otherwise.
He squinted down at the text for a moment, before gripping it delicately on the back of one wing. It was some of the worst handwriting he'd ever seen, worse than most grade schoolers. Only his name was readable.
"I'm glad you found me at all with an address like that," he said. "Have a good day."
"You too!" She beamed, waving one of her feathery wings in return. She stopped halfway down the path, turning to glance back at him. "Shouldn't you be asleep? The sun is still up."
He'd already shut the door most of the way. He cracked it open, smiling ruefully. "Sun's down where I'm from," he answered. She seemed to accept that answer, because she returned to her route without a backward glance.
A few months ago and he probably would've gone outside to open the letter, where his weird fingers could do the hard work. But now he knew where Rose kept the letter-opener, and he could brace the envelope with one hoof while slicing through the thick paper with the tool in his mouth.
There was only a single sheet of paper inside, written in the same almost indecipherable script as the address. It took only the first line for Tracy to realize why. Shane didn't have magic, and he didn't have months to learn to write with his mouth. Interpreting the scribbles took a great deal of attention and focus, but he managed.
"Tracy,
Wanted to tell you I was doing well. The ponies sent me to help at a dig. Big words are hard, but Fossil says I need to practice if I want to get better.
I'm still not sure what I will tell my family about this, but I know how. You have a few months left, I remember. If you get a package from me with a letter addressed to Ely, just stamp it and send it on. Maybe walk up to the mailbox wearing a mask or something, I dunno. I don't want them to think you killed me.
This community service stuff isn't so bad, even if I am digging holes. I think maybe when I'm done I might look for work in construction. A couple of the other volunteers are talking about starting something together, and I'm invited.
I'm losing track of time. But if my math is right, I should be done before your last month. I'm going to try to see you off in Ponyville, if I can.
You probably feel the same way as Anton and Marshall, but I'm gonna say it anyway. If you're smart, you won't go back. I know you didn't fail at life like I did, but take some advice:
It's better here. There's no promotion in the world as good as whatever demon let you move here. If you're smart, you'll take one look at the door back home, and run as far away as you can.
You can share this letter with the others if you want, I don't care. I'm sure they still think I'm insane. But you've been here. You know what I'm talking about. Don't give it up.
-Shane"
Shane was right about one thing—the others would think he was crazy. He would tell the others that Shane was doing okay, but that was it. That was probably all they needed to hear.
And not because they would start pressuring me to get out of here. Certainly he had no selfish motives.
He slept restlessly that night, and not because he hadn't been using the Everwake during his week off. There was a pounding from downstairs, loud enough to shake the floor under his feet. Tracy sat up groggily, and found his phone was ringing.
Good thing he hadn't started sharing a bed with Rose yet, or she wouldn't be happy. He pressed the speakerphone button with his nose. "Hello?"
It was Steven, the other junior intern at Apex. "Tracy, are you still alive or what?"
He sat up, shaking off the vestiges of sleep. At least the banging stopped. "Yeah," he answered. "I'm recuperating. I'm not supposed to be at work until Monday."
"I know," he said. "Janet sent me to check on you, assess your recovery, and collect your doctor's authorization for HR."
He stiffened, then jerked painfully into motion. "Is that you making a racket at my front door?"
"I'm checking for signs of life," Steven answered. "Look, just get down here. It's cold as hell out here, I'll be in my car. It's not your leg, right? Let me expense you some lunch."
"One minute," Tracy said. "I'll be right out."
Tracy started with a little glass vial, which banished the exhaustion in an eyeblink. He dressed as quickly as he could, working around the cast. Here's hoping it doesn't break my arm as soon as I step through the door.
It had been long enough since he went out, he almost forgot his phone. He didn't forget the folder of medical notes he'd prepared for HR, though his heart started to race at the very thought of having Karen looking at what was inside. If she gave it anything more than a passing glance, he was screwed.
Rose was standing in the doorway to her bedroom, mane disheveled in a way he swore was deliberate. Following her into that bedroom was the one step he hadn't quite been ready to take. So long as his foreleg was in a cast, he had an excuse. But he wouldn't have it for long. "What's the noise?" she asked. "Is it your side?"
He nodded, leaning forward to peck her lightly on the cheek. "It's a friend from work—my only friend from work, really. He wants to make sure I'm okay."
"Should I make snacks?"
His wings opened nervously to either side. "I don't think he'd handle the revelation of where I live very well. Janet might—my boss is really chill. She'd probably ask about the cell coverage or something."
He turned, making his stumbling way downstairs. It took deliberate concentration to walk with only three legs, and took a harsh toll on the leg he used more often. He didn't bother closing the intermediate door behind him, or else waste another thirty seconds fumbling.
Eventually he reached the front door. He braced his shoulder against the wall for a second to catch his breath, then undid the locks one at a time.
Hope it's been long enough that you're bored, Tracy thought. Unlike the old door, Discord's replacement was built entirely from steel, without so much as a peephole to glance outside.
He lifted the medical folder out from under a wing, taking it in his mouth. Then he swung the door open.
Steven lounged on the porch, tapping out something on his phone. He looked up as the door swung open, staring straight in at Tracy.
The iPhone slipped from his fingers, shattering to splinters on the pavement in front of him.
Oh shit.
Tracy lunged across the threshold to the Earth side, feeling a wave of nausea sweep over him at the speed of the transition. Adrenaline was on his side this time, and he managed to hold down his dinner.
He removed the folder from his mouth, tucking it between the arm brace and his chest. The arm was restrained almost exactly as his leg had been, with straps that wrapped around his neck and chest. It itched something fierce.
He bent down, picking up the fallen phone and pressing it towards Steven. "Thought you were gonna wait in the car." He wasn't wrong—for San Jose, this was the coldest he'd ever felt it. Nothing close to how Ely could get during the worst nights, but chilly enough that he'd go back for a sweatshirt.
Except, of course, that would probably give his poor friend another heart attack.
Steven took the phone, his hands shaking visibly. He muttered something indistinct—Hindi, not English. Finally he recovered enough to slip the phone into a pocket of his jacket, stumbling away from Tracy. "S-sorry. Think I... think I might need to go to the hospital. Swear I just..."
His eyes fixed on Tracy, suddenly intent. "Swear I saw something impossible. Demon, or maybe a stroke."
Tracy nodded weakly. A few words right now could probably convince his friend he'd had a brief bout on insanity—but it hadn't been some quick glance. Steven saw him from feet away, for several seconds straight.
He just couldn't bring himself to lie. "Actually, you saw into another universe. If you want to get technical about it."
Steven's face was already as pale as Tracy had ever seen him. His mouth opened and closed a few times, and he looked between Tracy and the still-open doorway. The door into the kitchen was still open, exposing the living room with its too small furniture.
And much more significantly, the windows on the Ponyville side, with empty streets lit by moonlight where another building should be on the Earth side.
Steven took another step back, muttering a long string of Hindi under his breath.
Only when Tracy pulled the door closed did he finally stop. "What is happening, Tracy? Thought you were shy, bit weird. So is everyone at Apex, that's the point. What the hell is going on?"
"I got tricked into a lease with the devil," he said. The words felt strange on his tongue—after his Ely friends visited, he never imagined saying them again. But what more harm could they do? "I can't move out until the year's over, and everyone on that side is a horse. I can show you, if you want."
Steven backed away another few steps. "Insane," he said. "Impossible. All of it."
"I thought so, but I've been stuck here for nine months now. It's not so bad when you get used to it." He held out the folder. "Do you want my medical stuff for HR?"
Steven shook his head vigorously, backing away another few steps. He was most of the way to his car now. He bounced on the edge of his toes, ready to sprint for his life at a moment's notice. "I'm gonna... I'll tell Janet you're in bad shape," he said. "See if I can convince her to give you remote work. Don't know... what the hell else... demon at work."
"Not a demon," he said again, annoyed. "I made one deal, and I thought I was just signing the damn lease. The people who live there are really nice, actually. You could meet the girl I've been talking about, Rose. We can have lunch at my place."
Steven sprinted for his life. He flung himself into his car, wheels squealing as he peeled away, door hanging open all the while.
Tracy watched him drive off, medical file still in hand. "Well... crap."