//------------------------------// // My Best Pony Pal, Pinkie Pie // Story: Living in Equestria // by Blazewing //------------------------------// Spike had prepared daisy sandwiches (plus some cheese sandwiches for me) and tomato soup. Scootaloo ate with a voracity the likes of which I’d only seen in Pinkie devouring her food at the Apple family brunch. Speaking of the pink pony, it seemed that, even though her wave of melancholy had passed, she still was somewhat subdued and ate slowly like the rest of us. None of us spoke throughout the meal, as none of us wanted to interrupt poor little Scootaloo filling up after two whole days alone in the forest. No one had ever mentioned to me whether or not anything edible grew in there. Zecora had mentioned her herbs, but I doubted those were anything pleasant to ingest. Finally, the little filly had eaten her fill of several sandwiches and two whole bowls of soup, and sat back in her chair, a contented look on her face and both hooves on her full tummy. It was good to finally see her in better spirits, after such a disastrous experience. She let out a loud, unrestrained yawn, which Twilight regarded with a soft giggle. “I think somepony’s ready for bed,” she said. “But first I think we need to give you a bath, young lady.” Scootaloo offered no resistance, and allowed Twilight to telekinetically lift her onto her back. There was a ‘thud’, and we looked to see that Spike had dropped off as well, face-first into the table. Small wonder, too, as the little guy had been up pretty late for someone his age. Twilight smilingly rolled her eyes and plopped him onto her back as well. “Good night, Scoot,” I said. Scootaloo looked up with one sleepy eye at me, and that little smile was back on her face. “Good night, Dave,” she said, before nodding off where she was. Her magic still in place, so as to keep her and Spike from falling off, Twilight softly carried them upstairs, leaving me with Pinkie, who still remained silent, and didn’t even look at me. A sort of uneasiness crept over me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if, despite being glad I was back, she wasn’t also angry at me for what I did. She had every right to be so, but it still was disquieting to think about. However, there wasn’t anger on her face, but a sort of preoccupation, as if all of her thoughts were concentrated elsewhere. Once or twice, she glanced at me, but those were the only times. Otherwise, she remained silent. At last, I cleared my throat, and she glanced up. “Pinkie, I need to stick around to ask Twilight something, but you don’t have to wait. You can head back to Sugarcube Corner if you want.” She hesitated, then I added, as a joke, “Relax, it’s not like I’ll be attacked by bandits on the street or something. You won’t lose me twice in one day.” She couldn’t help it: she gave a slight laugh and actually smiled. That alone buoyed my spirits considerably. “Ok, Davie,” she said, quietly. She got up from her chair and started making her way out. “Say good night to Twilight for me.” “I will.” The front door closed softly behind her, and I was left to myself to wait for Twilight to return. She was gone for about 15 or 20 minutes, and I was about ready to nod off when I heard her hoof steps on the stairs. I got up from the table and went to greet her. “How are they?” “Sleeping like babies,” she said. “I got Scootaloo all cleaned up and put her in my spare bed. She looks so peaceful now.” “That’s good to hear.” “That was a very sweet thing you said to her, by the way.” “I meant every word of it, Twi. It burns me up to hear about perfectly innocent little kids, or anyone unoffending, for that matter, being abused and oppressed by those who don’t recognize their innocence.” Twilight nodded, in a way that voiced regret that such people, or, in this case, ponies, exist. “Listen, Twi?” I said, after a pause. “Hm?” “I was thinking, about our interview tomorrow-” But here she raised a hoof to quiet me. “I’ve already made a mental note to postpone it. Scootaloo’s situation is much more important at this point.” “You’re the best, Twi,” I said, admiringly, making her smile. “Does Lyra know?” “No. She doesn’t even know she’s been invited. I was going to leave that to you.” “That’s fine with me. I’m sure she’ll love it, hearing it from me.” Twilight giggled. “You’d better go get some sleep, Dave. You’ve had quite a day.” “Yeah, no kidding. Good night, Twilight, and thanks.” Still smiling, she gave me a warm nuzzle on the cheek as I put an arm around her in a quick hug. With that, I took my leave of the lovable librarian and her little charge upstairs. (Sleep well, Scootaloo. Tomorrow, we start building your future.) *** I hadn't noticed it until then, but walking back to Sugarcube Corner, I remembered (or at least, my body did) how utterly tired I was, and my limbs felt sore and heavy, even though the distance was short. The lights were still on, and I reflected that I didn’t even know what time it was. Glancing at my watch, I saw that it was quarter to 10, though I could have sworn it had been later. Gingerly, I opened the front door, but no sooner did I do so than Mr. and Mrs. Cake were right in my face, dressed in bath robes and, in Mrs. Cake’s case, hair curlers. “Dave! Oh, thank Celestia!” cried Mr. Cake. “When we heard what happened, we just didn’t know what to think!” fretted Mrs. Cake. “Absolutely frantic!” “You’re wounded, too! Oh, no wonder Pinkie was so miserable, poor dear!” “It’s all right, it’s all right,” I said, holding my hands up in a placating way, feeling an extra couple guilt daggers hitting my heart at their worry. “I’m sorry I scared everypony. I wish I’d put more thought into what everyone else was going to think by going in like that.” Seeing the contrition on my face seemed to soften them up a little. “It’s all right, dearie,” said Mrs. Cake, gently. “You gave us all a scare, yes, but we know you didn’t mean to.” “Pinkie took it so hard, though,” said Mr. Cake, “almost like she thought it was her fault.” *Stab*…My heart was turning into a metaphysical pin cushion… “I’ll talk to her about it. She had nothing to do with my decision, so there’s no reason for her feeling that way.” The couple nodded. “Oh! By the way,” said Mrs. Cake, “Rarity came by with something for you while you were away, before news of your little escapade got out. We put it on your bed for you.” Probably another change of clothes. She was making really good progress. “Thanks, Mrs. Cake. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” They nodded again and smiled parentally at me as I went upstairs. This was feeling like one huge conga line of strikes to my guilty conscience for all the ponies I’d worried, but as long as all was forgiven, the hurts would heal eventually. *** Pinkie was inside when I went into the bedroom, but she hadn’t gone to sleep. She was lying on her bed, with her back to me, her mane still droopy. As I crossed over to my bed, I felt something latch onto my leg, and looking down, I found Gummy clinging to me and gazing up at me with those big purple eyes, like an affectionate cat. “Hey, little fella,” I said, softly, kneeling down to stroke his scaly back. “Guess you must have been worried too, huh?” Gummy’s little tail twitched in response. “I’m sorry, Gummy. It won’t happen again.” Thus reassured, Gummy let go and scampered off to his own little basket. Pinkie must have heard me talking to her little gator, as I saw her ears perk out of the corner of my eye, but she made no other movements. On my bed sat a pile of navy-blue material, soft to the touch. Upon picking it up, I saw it was a pair of pajamas pants and a pajama shirt. Attached to the shirt was a note, written very elegantly: ‘Dave, I wrote this out in case you were not around when I arrived. I figured it must not be too pleasant having to wear your day clothes to bed, so I made you this pair of pajamas. Blue suits you so well, darling. Sleep well! Best wishes, Rarity PS: Thank you ever so much for the flowers! Daffodils are my absolute favorite!’ I couldn’t help but smile at her considerate thinking. These were perfect! Gathering them up, I went down to the bathroom, where the first thing I did was take a good, long shower. It was just what the doctor ordered, with all the aches, pains, and grime from being in the forest being washed away every second. After that, I very gladly changed into my new pajamas, marveling at how cozy the material was. Then, taking my dirty clothes down to the laundry room to be cleaned tomorrow, I headed back upstairs into Pinkie’s room. Her position still hadn’t changed. I sat on the edge of my bed and, after taking off my watch and glasses, said, “Pinkie, you don’t have to look at me, but I just need you to listen. I know you probably blame yourself for what happened to me, but take that idea out of your head, please. You had nothing to do with my actions. I don't want to see someone completely devoid of fault in this scenario take the blame. Scootaloo's already had enough of that. I don’t find any fault with you at all, Pinkie. You’re my best friend. I could never be mad at you. That’s all I wanted to say. Good night, Pinkie.” With that, I got into bed, pulling the covers over me, and clicked off the light. I’d barely lain down, however, before I felt my bed shift on the other side and then a warm grip close around me. Looking down, I discovered Pinkie, who had come up onto my bed, under the covers, and was hugging me close. Remembering how I’d been reluctant to her being in the same bed with me before, but also realizing how she’d had a miserable day today, I didn’t resist. Instead, I wormed one arm free and put it around her, drawing her close. “I was just super-duper scared for you," she said, "but that was very brave of you to want to save Scootaloo.” “The way that poor kid’s life has gone, I’d have wasted even less time if I knew the whole truth beforehand.” Pinkie said nothing, but just dug her way in closer to me, her cheek against my chest. “Pinkie? Can I be frank with you?” “Frank with me? Don’t you want to be Dave with me?” I couldn’t help chuckling. “Now there’s the Pinkie I remember. What I meant was, can I be honest with you?” “Of course, silly.” “You look nice with your mane down.” Even if I couldn’t see Pinkie’s face, I could feel her body grow warmer, so I knew she must have been blushing. “Do I, really?” “Yeah. It’s a cute look on you.” She inched her way up to give me a thankful nuzzle on the cheek. “I can’t keep it very well, though,” she admitted. “Ever since I got my cutie mark, it’s always been in a Pinkie Frizzle, at least when I’m super-happy.” “Pinkie Frizzle? That’s what you call it?” “I was gonna call it the Pinkie Poof, but I like the word ‘frizzle’ better.” “Heh. Good point." In a more sober tone, I said, "Spike told me that this happened before. You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to.” Pinkie was silent for a little while, then said, quietly, “I did a stupid thing a long while ago.” “People do stupid things all the time, Pinkie. I’m sure this wasn’t-” “I doubted my friends.” Oh... "Doubted them? What do you mean?" “I thought they didn’t want to be my friends anymore. I thought they were avoiding me because they didn’t like me. I assumed the worst, when I should have known them better.” Wow...I had no idea. “Pinkie, it was an honest mistake, I’m sure," I said, comfortingly. "We all need to learn from mistakes in order to grow.” “Yeah," said Pinkie. "It’s not the growing or the learning that I mind, but the mistakes.” “Tell me about it,” I muttered. We were silent for a while, and I thought Pinkie might have gone to sleep. Evidently, she thought I’d gone to sleep too, as she asked, “Davie? Are you still awake?” “Yeah. Hard to fall asleep with my mind so abuzz. And no,” I added, quickly, “that doesn’t mean there’s a bee in my head.” She giggled. “You knew I was gonna ask, you silly-billy,” she said. It was such a relief to hear her sounding at least a little more cheerful again. Then, however, her tone became solemn again. “When Scootaloo was talking about her dad, it reminded me of my own family. Not the family I have here with the Cakes, but my real family.” “The rock farmer Pies?” “Yeah. After I got my cutie mark, we went back to rock farming. At first, it wasn’t so bad, because now we were all smiling, laughing, and joking as we worked. It made me so happy to see Mom, Dad, Grammy, Marble, Limestone, and Maud happy too.” “Marble, Limestone, and Maud? Were those your sisters?” “Yeah. But after a while, I began to feel like the farm just wasn’t enough for me. If it was my destiny to make ponies laugh and smile, I needed to be out there to make it happen. I left to live in Ponyville when I was still a filly, and I came to Mr. and Mrs. Cake as an apprentice. Since then, they’ve been just like second parents to me. I never forgot about my real family, but it's been so long since I've visited the farm. I wrote to them sometimes, but I haven't for a long while now. I don't know how they've been getting on without me there. I feel so ungrateful to them…” “Pinkie…” I hugged her close to me, praying that she wouldn’t start cryng. “It’s never too late to make reparations,” I said. “Are you sure? My sisters and Grammy might understand, but Mom and Dad…How do I know they're not mad at me for leaving?” “Pinkie, stop it,” I said, a bit sterner than I’d wanted to. “You’re being ridiculous. I should know; I have a record of thinking the most ridiculous of possibilities. You, Pinkamena Pie, are their daughter. They'll love you no matter what. You threw your very first party for them, when you were only a filly. Of course they’re not just gonna cast you away like that. You've obviously never forgotten about them, even in your time being separated from them. Just send them a letter, see how they’ve been, give them a summary of all that you’ve seen and done. I’m sure they’d love to know. What I’m saying, Pinkie, is…whatever time or distance separates you, they’re still your family.” What was wrong with me? What conjuring of mind and nature instilled this fund of preachy wisdom in my brain and heart? This was the kind of thing that was saved for emotional moments in movies or books. I didn’t think it was truly possible in human nature. Well, I don’t see why I should be complaining. It was working wonders so far. “Thanks, Davie,” said Pinkie, quietly, sounding as though she were nodding off to sleep. This was confirmed, as I next heard her breathing, softly and peacefully. In the dim moonlight, I could just see her face, and was relieved and heartened to see a little smile on it. Leaning down, I gave my little pink sweetheart of a friend a small kiss on the forehead. “Good night, Pinkie,” I whispered, and then, laying back on my pillow, with the worries and craziness that had befallen me all that day washing away into the night, I finally drifted off as well.