Somepony who loves you

by Nonagon

Painkiller (part one)

Without fail, the best part of Cheerilee’s day — she refused to call it anything else — was when the time would come to put the foals to bed.

“Goodnight, Silver Spoon,” she whispered, kissing the filly on her forehead. Silver Spoon smiled faintly and settled down into the pile of loose sheets that served as her and her friend’s bed. Her gorgeous braid was starting to unravel, and she'd lost her glasses sometime in the rush from the library. She accepted the tiny glass of water she was given, a white pill slowly dissolving at the bottom, and obediently drank it down.

"Goodnight, Diamond Tiara." Cheerilee leaned down to kiss the second filly as well, but Diamond Tiara turned away. Still, she took the water Cheerilee gave her and drank it as well.

"It's always night," the filly mumbled, then sank down into the sheets.

Cheerilee crossed over to the other side of the classroom. The few desks and chairs that hadn’t been taken apart had been pushed into the corners, leaving a wide, open space in the middle of the room. She knelt down next to the other set of sheets. "Goodnight, Snails," she whispered, kissing the colt just below his hairline.

"Goodnight, miss Cheerilee," Snails whispered back. Without his best friend by his side he'd become even more quiet than usual, rarely if ever speaking to or playing with the others. This was the only time in the day when Cheerilee got to hear him speak, and it always soothed her as a reminder that he was still there, that he was still okay. She gave him his glass and he drank it slowly, loudly swallowing the pill at the very bottom.

The final foal was still afraid of pills. She had trouble swallowing them, always secretly afraid that she would choke, and needed Cheerilee to hold her hoof as she drank her water down. Once the filly was finished, Cheerilee took her glass away and kissed her on the tip of her nose. "Goodnight, Twist," she whispered.

"Mith Cheerilee? I'm hungry," Twist said, putting her head down.

"Don't worry. We'll have a big breakfast in the morning." The teacher stroked her favorite student's mane and turned away, putting the glasses on a tray before picking it up. "Goodnight, everypony," she whispered a final time, her voice filling up the silent classroom. "I love each and every one of you."

There was no light to turn off. Cheerilee exited the classroom and quietly closed the door behind her. Bathed in utter silence, the boarded-up windows allowing only thin slivers of moonlight to slip through, the four foals began to drift to sleep.

Cheerilee's smile began to fade as she made her way down to her private office. By the time she closed her door behind her, her face had settled into a familiar expression of grim acceptance. She washed the four glasses in the sink, then filled one of them again for herself, only allowing the water to move at a thin trickle. It was fortunate, she supposed, that the city's pipes were still working; in fact, now that far fewer ponies were using it, their water supply would probably last much longer before it would need to be replenished. Even so, sooner or later the reservoir would run dry, or an old pipe would burst, or some filter in the depths of somewhere would clog, and there would be nopony left who knew how to fix it. But that was a problem she could deal with later.

Picking up the large bottle on her desk, Cheerilee twisted the foal-proof cap open and gingerly slipped one white pill out from the interior. She mentally checked one off of her tally, then spilled the rest of the bottle out onto the desk and counted them individually anyway. There were nineteen pills left, not counting the one she’d removed. Three full nights, more if she didn't take any herself. Soon they would need more. Like everything else, the things that kept them alive were running out.

The bottle was labelled with an incomprehensible sticker naming chemicals with more syllables than any word should rightly have. To Cheerilee, the title meant something far simpler: painkillers. It was prescription medication for her migraines, which she thanked her lucky stars she'd had the foresight to refill a week before the disaster. It wasn't meant for foals, but one of the side effects was drowsiness, and in the eternal dark she hadn't had any other ideas. She'd told her little ponies that it would help them sleep, and it did that. It did it almost too well. Certainly there were no more nightmares. Sometimes she stayed a little while after they'd gone to bed and watched over them, listened to their faint breathing and watched their tiny chests rise and fall, and it seemed almost unfair that they could be so peaceful.

The teacher carefully scooped the pills back into the bottle, dropping the one for herself into her glass. She swallowed it in one long gulp, wincing slightly at the bitter aftertaste. Then, already feeling the effects creeping through her, she unlocked her desk and pulled out the other, unmarked pill bottle.

She wasn't sure why she bothered to count these. The number never changed, but then again, maybe that was why; she needed to reassure herself that they were still there, that one or two hadn't vanished during the night. She shook them out onto her desk, staring blearily at the tiny dots. Six white pills. They were the same white colour as her medication, but a little smaller, and, in many ways, a lot more potent. She pointed at each one in turn, counting out six pills time and time again, before dropping them back into their tiny bottle one by one and locking it safely inside her desk.

Then, after washing out her glass and storing it safely beside the sink, Cheerilee lay down on the floor beside her desk and let herself fall into dreamless sleep.

Cheerilee woke up long before her students. The pills seemed to be affecting her less and less with each passing day; it had occurred to her that her drowsiness might be more of a placebo effect than anything else, but she tried not to think about it for fear of losing her sleep altogether. There was no way of telling how long she'd slept. She'd foolishly left her watch on her nightstand at home, and the school clock was stuck at a quarter past six. Still, if the past was any indication, she would have a few hours more before her students would wake. It was time to get to work.

She slipped down the hallway in silence, peeking her head into the foals' classroom just long enough to confirm that they were still happily asleep. With a satisfied smile, she increased her pace and made her way outside.

From the inside, the schoolhouse was secured by a standard lock. The outside was another matter. Since Cheerilee had rarely bothered to lock the doors before the eternal night had come, it hadn’t seemed all that important when she’d misplaced the key a few months back. To keep her precious students safe in her absence, she’d built a thick metal slider that allowed her to lock the building from the outside. It had taken two days to install, nervously screwing each section into place and scratching away at the once-beautiful wood, constantly listening for any unwanted attention the noise might bring. Even now she took a full minute to slide the metal bar into place, not allowing even the faintest of scraping noises. Once she was convinced the building was secure, she blew a final kiss towards the nearest window. “Goodbye, my little ponies,” she breathed. “Please be here when I get back.” Which I will. I promise.

The trek through town was torture. The silence wrapped around Cheerilee like a physical presence, smothering her, assaulting her senses. She walked as quickly as she dared, moving only one leg at a time, wincing every time her hoof crunched against the dirt road. Once she reached the paved streets she was more daring, taking mere minutes to cross from one road to the next, but as she neared the center of town she slowed to a crawl once more. Instead of hiding in the long shadows that the moon cast, she avoided them at all costs, never stepping anywhere that wasn’t clearly illuminated.

The road the teacher took was winding, sticking only to streets that she knew for certain were safe. Time and time again she’d considered branching out, finding a safer, faster route, but she always shot the idea down. There was no knowing what might be waiting silently behind a closed door, or in the middle of an empty street... and if, Celestia forbid, she did stumble across some stray pony, she would be completely at their mercy. She’d already made that mistake once. And it had cost her so, so much.

The first stop, as always, was Sugarcube Corner. At a glance, the building looked more fantastical and delicious in the night, though Cheerilee hadn’t been able at first to put her hoof on why. A closer look revealed that two of the windows in the cupcake-shaped loft had been broken, apparently from the inside, raining pieces of glass onto the roof that sparkled like frosted sugar in the moonlight. The door had been left wide open. Cheerilee approached the building with a little more confidence, stepping gingerly over the creaky first step, and relaxed as she walked inside. It didn’t matter that this was probably the most dangerous stop on her daily excursions; even after all that had happened, there was nothing that could ever make Sugarcube Corner feel unsafe.

The bakery’s back storeroom was well-stocked and sealed. The teacher estimated that this room alone would keep the five of them fed for two or three months, provided they rationed themselves. With the cold, dry air and abrupt disappearance of all vermin, she hoped that the supplies would last. First, she picked up a large sack of raw hay and balanced it across her back; after stressing the importance of the three-tiered food pyramid in class, she would sooner risk death than feed her students a poor diet. On top of that she placed a sack of flour, a bag of sugar and a pouch of chocolate chips. Mixed with water and a little imagination, they could almost pretend that they were having cakes and cookies every day. As a bonus, on her way out she found a single, unopened packet of caramel squares and held it between her teeth as she left. In any classroom, regardless of the circumstances, she’d found that the best way to keep order was through rewards for good behavior.

The way back to the schoolhouse was no slower than the journey away, though it was markedly more tense. The extra weight on Cheerilee’s back did little to change her already glacial pace, only causing occasional shifts to account for her heavier hoofsteps. She paused at the first street corner, glancing in the direction of Ponyville’s clinic. Not today, she decided. Tomorrow, when I don’t have food to worry about. And if they’re not stocked, well... She shuddered at the thought, but pressed on. There’s always the hospital.

The dark streets became a blur as Cheerilee trekked another indeterminate length of time in silence. It almost depressed her how quickly she’d gotten used to the eternally empty streets. Of course, if she saw another pony coming towards her now she’d probably jump out of her skin. Her muscles ached for her to move faster. When the schoolhouse finally came into view and she felt the comforting weight of the lock under her hoof, it was like climbing out of a dark and watery dream.

Silver Spoon was waiting inside as Cheerilee shut and locked the door behind her. “Good morning, my little pony,” the teacher said as she slid her bags off her aching back. “Are you ready to eat?”

“Miss Cheerilee?” the filly said. “Snails won’t get up.”

“Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?” Cheerilee sobbed through clenched teeth. “Don’t you ever, ever, ever do that again!”

“I’m sorry,” Snails repeated, though he still didn’t understand why. All he’d done was lie in bed a little while longer after feeling really tired and hungry when the others woke up. The two fillies opposite had laughed and said they were going to get him in trouble, but Twist had said they were just teasing. Now Cheerilee was holding him like she thought he was going to fall apart, and her voice sounded like his mom’s had the time he and Snips accidentally knocked down the old shed behind his house. The fillies stood nearby, Diamond Tiara looking triumphant, Silver Spoon considerably less so. Twist kicked morosely at the scattered bedsheets, trying to move them back to some shape resembling a bed.

After an uncomfortably long time, Cheerilee finally released Snails. “No, I’m sorry,” she said. “I only... I’m sure you were just tired.” She stood up and smiled weakly, looking around at the little ponies around her. “Let’s all go eat breakfast, okay? Then after that we can do whatever you want. How does that sound?”

The response was, predictably, unenthusiastic. Cheerilee didn’t care. She gathered up her little ponies, reassuring them with her smile, and led them to the sink to prepare a breakfast of cakes and candies. Then they would play a word game, or read a fairy tale from one of the schoolhouse’s old books, or invent a board game out of broken wood and lines drawn in the dust. It didn’t matter what they did.

So long as they were happy.