Smash.
The bright purple vase flew through the air and crashed into a bookshelf, breaking into a thousand little pieces which scattered across the ground and lay there, unmoving.
I really need to talk to you about something. Would you like to come to the park with me?
For an instant she felt guilty – it was strange that after all she’d done it took that to give her pause – but she chased the doubt away with a shake of her head. It was better this way. It had to be done. The library was Twilight’s. It was always going to be Twilight’s, even if it’d been left behind.
Another book tossed into the fire, pages already torn out and strewn about the room. She remembered that book. She knew that book – she had given it to the unicorn for her birthday just the year before, and Twilight had said she loved it.
Apparently Twilight Sparkle had said that about a lot of the things she’d abandoned.
I got a letter today. From the Princess.
Tears stung at her face as she spun and kicked out at a table, shattering the legs and leaving it broken on the ground.
She says that they need me. She…asked if I’d consider moving back to Canterlot.
Good. That was good. Not good enough – the table wasn’t gone. She couldn’t destroy it by herself. But she had done her best. She had tried. And maybe that was enough. And maybe if it wasn’t, he would forgive her. She had done her best, because she understood.
He was Twilight’s table. These were Twilight’s books. This was Twilight’s library.
Even if she was gone, none of it would ever belong to anypony else – none of it wanted to be held, or read, or loved by anypony else. Other ponies were plenty nice, but this wasn’t their place. It would never be their place. It was her place, and they didn’t belong in it.
And I’ve decided to go. This is a big opportunity for me.
She didn’t belong in it either. It wasn’t her place. But she knew, better than anypony, how they felt. She understood. She had to make it okay for them – she couldn’t just let them suffer, waiting alone forever. It wasn’t right. It was no different from abandoning them in the first place. Like she had.
Twilight Sparkle.
Liar. Promise-breaker. Traitor. Just like everypony else.
No. No, you can’t. I’m…I’m sorry, I really am. But we both know you wouldn’t be happy there.
As if her happiness mattered. As if Twilight were doing her a favour. But she knew the truth. She had seen it in the unicorn’s eyes, just like she’d seen it whenever anypony looked her all her life. The other pony wasn’t leaving for Celestia. She wasn’t leaving for her future, or her brother, or her stupid bully sister in law.
She was leaving because she hated her. Because when she looked at her, all she saw was a useless, stupid, frivolous pony who didn’t belong. Who didn’t deserve to be happy. Just like everypony else.
This was the best thing that ever happened to me. You are the best thing that ever happened to me.
She had tried. She had tried so hard. She had tried to be good, to make ponies happy, to fit in and smile and prove that maybe, just maybe, she deserved to be too. But she had failed. She always failed.
It wasn’t Twilight’s fault. She knew that. It was her. It was always her.
Clingy. Flighty. Obsessive. Impulsive. Pathetic.
She had smiled. She had put on her best smile and hugged the other unicorn and told her it was okay. That she understood. And she hadn’t been lying. She understood, alright. She understood just fine. And that was why she had to do this. She had ruined everything. It was her fault that the library would never have the pony it loved again. It was her fault, and she had to fix it. It was her fault. Just like it always had been.
I promise, this isn’t the last time we’ll see each other. I’ll come and visit.
She had bobbed her head and chirped happily and said what she had needed to to make sure Twilight believed it was okay. It didn’t really matter – by the time the unicorn arrived in Canterlot she’d have forgotten all about her promise. She’d already proven exactly what her promises were worth.
And if Twilight did come back? It wouldn’t matter. She’d be gone by then – off to whatever town would have her to try again. To make the world better, instead of worse. Just once. Just once would be enough. Was that too much to hope for?
Time and time again she’d learned that it was. But she kept trying. What else could she do?
I love you, no matter what. Please, don’t forget that.
She stood in the centre and looked out over the ruined remains of the library. The books were all gone, burned or torn up beyond recognition. The little things – vases and paintings, photographs, the engagement ring. Those she had destroyed. Nothing was left. The larger furniture stood broken – bookshelves smashed and dented, wardrobe doors hanging off their hinges. Their desk was smashed in two. Nopony would ever write at it again.
It wasn’t enough. Some of it could still be salvaged, still be stolen. She had failed. Like she always did. But she had tried. She had done her best. She could only hope that nopony else would come and take the things away. Take these little pieces of Twilight, and force them to be part of somepony else.
Twilight didn’t love her. She knew that. But she loved Twilight. But it wasn’t enough. Somepony would come. Somepony would take the library away. Take it over. Somepony would steal the last traces of Twilight that Ponyville had, and then she would be gone, forever.
Not that Twilight would care. She’d seen it on the unicorns face, in her eyes – the day she had left Ponyville behind, left her behind, had been the happiest day of Twilight’s life.
——-
Twilight Sparkle took a deep breath, trying desperately to stay calm. To not panic. Panic was bad – panic would ruin everything. If everything wasn’t ruined already, which seemed like a distinct possibility given what she’d done to the pony she loved. She only hoped there was still time. There had to be, right? She’d only been gone a few days before realising that she’d made a mistake. Pinkie wouldn’t have forgotten her already – Pinkie Pie didn’t forget anypony.
Whether the other pony would forgive her was another thing entirely, but she couldn’t afford to worry about that right now – unless she wanted to end up a quivering wreck on her own doorstep and spend forever regretting being too afraid to fix things, and that didn’t really seem like her best option.
Twilight Sparkle pushed the door to the library open, and her heart stopped. It was gone. Everything was gone. Ruined, broken. Her books were in pieces, her furniture in slightly larger pieces – her eyes darted instinctively to above the fireplace, where she had hung the photos from she and Pinkie’s first anniversary, and she confirmed that those were gone too – or rather, they were torn in half. Only she herself stared back at her, with Pinkie’s smiling face no doubt strewn among the chaos.
And in the centre of it all stood Pinkie, staring at her with wide, frightened eyes and shaking like a leaf.
For a long time they stood there, staring at one another. Eventually it was Pinkie who broke the silence, her voice a choked whisper.
“Are you real?”
“I’m as real as you are, Pinkie.” She tried to keep her tone level, reassuring. She failed, her voice shaking as much as the pony before her. That was okay – it was perfectly understandable really.
Twilight Sparkle had never been more afraid.
The pink pony frowned and took a step closer, cocking her head slightly as she did. “But… you left. You went away.”
“I came back.” She spoke gently. She didn’t know what else to do. “Pinkie, why did you do this?”
Pinkie slowly turned in place and looked over what she had done. When she finished her tear-filled eyes locked onto Twilight’s own, and when she spoke she sounded terribly, terribly afraid. “I don’t know,” came the whisper, “I didn’t….I don’t…..please….”
All at once Twilight Sparkle found herself holding Pinkie Pie close against her chest, stroking her mane softly and whispering in her ear. It would be okay. Pinkie would be okay. The library could be rebuilt. Pinkie would be okay.
“I’m sorry,” Pinkie mumbled, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Pinkie.” She replied, knowing that it wasn’t. “I’m here now. I’m back. We can make this okay. We can get through this.”
Pinkie pulled away and stared straight at Twilight, a little frown on her tired, ragged face. “Together?”
“Together.” She promised simply, and Pinkie Pie smiled.