//------------------------------//
// Chapter 7 
// Story: Blast From The Past 
// by Blazer 
//------------------------------//

I snapped awake, gasping as I sat up in my chair. Looking around, I found myself in the darkened office of Ryan Syllabus. 

I looked over at the cluttered desk to my right, the understudy dozing on top of a half-full legal pad. A small puddle of drool soaked the yellow paper—his messy notes now completely unrecognizable. 

Suddenly, I felt weak. Letting out a croak of surprise, I fell back into my chair as my strength left as quickly as it came. While it felt like my body was shutting down, my brain was ablaze with panic. 

“H-help… Help…” 

Ryan stirred, but did not wake up. I began to sweat as I willed my deadened limbs to move but having little success. It was as if I was trapped thousands of feet underwater—a crushing pressure keeping me completely paralyzed. 

Crazed with desperation, I began to gently rock in my seat. Barely managing a smidgeon of movement, I threw myself against my bodily prison as the panic boiled over into full-fledged terror. One of my forelegs began to slip out from underneath me, my body starting to slide forward on the chair. As my weight shifted forward, my leg slipped free—sending me careening into the desk head-first. 

Seeing stars, I looked up just in time to see a pair of scissors falling from a cup of pencils that had gotten knocked over from my impact. Everything slowed to a crawl as I saw them gleaming in my peripheral—helpless and unable to move away. 

I shut my eyes. A hot flash of pain jabbed into my right cheekbone, just below my eye. 

“nnnMMMAAAAAHHHH!”
“WHOA, NELLY!”

I clawed at my face, patting at where the scissors had struck my cheek. A small streak of blood was left behind on my hoof but my eye was intact. I could still see. I even had depth perception. 

I could also move. 

“Jet! You’re awake!” 

I looked about in a frenzy, bolting upright and patting myself down. The heaviness had left my limbs completely although I felt a great fatigue looming behind the adrenaline. 

“You’ve been out for awhile… How long were you there?”
“Y-you didn’t tell me paralysis was a symptom!” 
“I did tell you about the weakness, didn’t I? Loss of strength? That’s what it was, wasn’t it?”
“I mean, I guess you could say that—!”
“And you need to calm down! To go from practically hibernating to ready to fight for your life puts way too much stress on your heart! You could have a heart attack!” 

I gulped, forcing myself to take a couple of shaky breaths. 

“Easy, now.”
“Okay… Okay…”
“Sun’s getting low… Sun’s getting really low…”
“Alright! I get it!”

I wiped my brow with my foreleg—one that wasn’t broken anymore. Walking without a limp was going to take some getting used to. 

“Talk to me, Jet. How long were you there?”
“A-a day and a half. Maybe around 36 hours or so…?”
“Did you sleep while you were there?”
“Yeah… Not very long though. Had some bad dreams.”
“Interesting… As your therapist, I wanted to ask if you found any answers about Rainbow Dash.”

I stared at the assortment of books on the table, a monochrome picture of Ponyville’s town hall on the current page.

“No. She didn’t remember me at all.”

Ryan’s brow arched. “Really? But you’re sure she said what she said at that press conference?”
“I still remember it clearly.”
“I see… Well you can see how this raises far more questions than provides answers.” 

My legs felt wobbly and weak. I forced myself to sit as the fatigue finally crashed down. Ryan glanced over, his eyes darting over me.

“How bad is it?”

I winced as I felt the heaviness return in full force, “I’m… It doesn’t feel good…” I felt myself being forced into the floor by a giant hand as the last of the adrenaline burned off. 

“How so? Keep talking to me Jet.” 

I looked up, my vision darkening at the edges, “Doc?” 

He looked back, his expression progressing from worry into horror, “Jet, hey! Jet, stay—!” 

Ryan rushed forward as I fell over, unmoving. My eyes rolled back into my head, his muffled cries barely reaching me. 





“What were you thinking?” 

“I know. I’m sorry. I used to be able to do that one all the time. Got too comfortable with putting myself in harm’s way like that and… Yeah.”

Twister sighed, shaking her head. Thankfully, she believed my claim of attempting an Immelmann from low altitude—I wasn’t sure whether to be proud or disgusted with my newfound skill of coming up with tall tales.

“Well, I’m glad you’re fine, Jet. We were all worried sick.”

I glanced at the windowsill which was crowded with flowers, “I noticed. The nurses say they’re tired of watering my garden every day.”

“Jet.”
“Joking. I’m grateful. Really.” 

I stared at the ceiling, “I guess I’m losing my touch.”

Twister frowned, “That press conference really messed you up, didn’t it?”

I opened my mouth to respond but took pause, unsure of what to say. My co-captain stood from her chair, walking over to my bedside. 

“Can we talk for a bit?” 

My eyes fell to my bedsheets, heavy with guilt, “Sure.” 

As she rested her upper half on the bed, I realized I hadn’t ever seen her with her mane down, let alone with bangs. They draped across her normally unobscured forehead and joined the rest of her curls cascading down the side of her face. Her head nestled on top of her forelegs as her curious sapphires scanned my dull coals.

“What’s on your mind?” 

I broke eye contact with her, shrugging, “A lot of things.”

“Care to elaborate?”

I’d already told Windchaser and Typhoon. Maybe it was best to tell the co-captain.

“She said she knew me. She asked me if I remembered her.”

Twister’s eyes widened but her toned remained unchanged, “What’d you say?”

“I told her in a roundabout way that I didn’t. And she… She looked devastated.”
“I see. And then…?”

She had a heart attack and deteriorated until she died.

“I never saw her again,” I said with finality. 

My co-captain’s eyes fell. She got it. 

“And you never absolved yourself for making her feel that way.”
“Maybe? I don’t know.”
“Did you try talking about it to anypony?”
“Chase sent me to see a shrink. He said he wanted me to ‘get better.’”

Twister gave a sad smile, “He’s a bit too direct, sometimes.”

I nodded slowly, “It felt like he just wants me to feel better so he doesn’t have to worry about it.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Care to explain?”
“Maybe he doesn’t know what else to do when he sees a friend in pain.”
“Eh… Maybe.” 

I felt my chest tense as I recalled his seemingly careless confession of “wanting his friend back.”

“Mm. I get what you’re saying. I’ll just say I’m here to talk whenever you feel like it. I’m no shrink, but I like to listen.”

We shared a glance, her smile earning a small grin from me. 

“Thanks.”

The mare broke eye contact and stared towards the window, “So, what was it like talking to Rainbow Dash?”

I shrugged my wings, “Don’t really know. Overwhelming, I guess. Next thing I knew she was…”

Twister nodded to herself. Her eyes flicked down to her forelegs as she spoke, “Did she talk to you like a friend, or…?”

“Huh? Oh! Wow, I… I don’t know, actually.”

The mare looked up at me suddenly, a gentle blush on her cheeks, “Seriously? You’re not sure?”

I threw up my forelegs, shaking my head, “I dunno! I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before.”

“Pfft, and here I was thinking you were a grown-up like the rest of us,” Twister scoffed under a foreleg.

“Sheesh, no mercy even when I’m in the hospital,” I sighed, leaning against my pillows. 

“I mean, you’ve been in a relationship, right?” 

My face felt hot as I searched for the proper words.

“I was… I mean, I thought… A distraction…?”
“I mean, I know relationships are different for everypony, but I figured twenty years would be long enough for a colt like you to have at least one relationship.”
“What do you mean a ‘colt like me?’”

Twister blinked, looking as if she’d swallowed a fly. I nodded slowly, leaning forward with glee.

“Ah. Okay. I see you, Twist. I see you…”
“I mean, come on, Jet! You’re one of the captains of a professional flying team!”
“Sure, sure.” 
“Tch, dream on, Jet.”
“Alright, alright. Bad joke. Had to get you back.”

The pegasus rolled her eyes, a smirk curling up beneath her dismissive gesture, “Just don’t tell anypony I said that.”

I pointed at her with a foreleg, “Likewise. We’re in this together, now.”

She chuckled to herself as she formally took residence on the edge of my bed, “Right, right. I won’t say anything about how sad and single your entire life has been.”

I shrugged, “What can I say? I like my free time and my bits.”

“Yeesh, you’re such a child.”
“Says you.”

The beeping of my monitor reigned over the silence that followed. 

“…So you don’t know if it was like that or not?”

I stared at my legs beneath the blanket, “No idea.”

Twister propped her chin atop a foreleg, “It’s strange. She’s from a totally different generation of flyers and she talked to you as if you grew up with her. It’s almost like…”

I leaned in expectantly. Suddenly, she let out a snort. 

“What?”
“Nothing. It’s dumb.”
“Just say it. My lips are sealed, remember?”

She shrugged, shaking her head, “Like you time-traveled or something.”

As she began to dismiss her own notions, I felt a cold sweat beading on my brow. 





“Dr. Bell will see you now.”
“Thank you.”

I followed the receptionist halfheartedly, my mind abuzz with questions. I was troubled to learn that Ryan had taken a sudden sabbatical after Dr. Bell had returned to his office. I wondered how I hadn’t considered an outcome like this sooner—the real doctor returning was only inevitable. 

“Right in here.”
“Thanks.”

Stepping past the bright-eyed mare, I winced as the acrid stench of cigars and coffee burned my nostrils. Looking around the office, I took in its gaudy furnishings for the first time. 

It seemed more like the office of a literary professor than a psychiatrist: Dark wood bookshelves crowded the walls, the shelves packed with heavy hardcover tomes. The topics ranged from philosophy to history; I could only imagine how many dense discussions were held in each book. Elegant end tables holding a brass globe and a copper oil lamp flanked the edges of the room. In front of the desk itself were two faded maroon armchairs, matching the loveseat that was in Ryan’s ‘office.’ An oaken box filled with cigars along with a fountain pen and picture frame were the only furnishings atop the mighty mahogany desk at the room’s center. 

I glanced at the portly unicorn sitting behind the wooden desk. Lacking his hat from the portrait, his mane was fairly short yet bushy—flecks of grey starting to work their way into strands here and there. A pair of small circular wire spectacles rested on his stocky muzzle, a thick brown beard giving his face a natural frown. His beady eyes squinted over his nose as he regarded me with curiosity.

“You must be Jetstream.”
“Hello. Dr. Bell, right?”
“That is correct. Please, take a seat.”

His voice was terse, almost coming out like a growl. It was almost comedic with how it matched his grumpy appearance. I moved to one of the armchairs, hesitantly placing myself in its comfortable embrace.

“Now, I’ve collected Ryan’s notes on your sessions thus far. I’m afraid there isn’t much, so I may ask you to reiterate some things for me.”

“Mhmm,” I hummed absentmindedly. I held my breath as he sifted through a stack of papers on his desk, his horn giving off a soft amber glow. 

“So you had a bizarre interaction with a childhood hero?”
“You can say that.”
“She claimed to have known you.”
“Yeah.”
“After dismissing the notion, she suddenly passed—leaving you with questions that leave you unable to focus on your life in the present.”
“Uh-huh.”

Dr. Bell looked up from the papers, peering over his spectacles, “I can see why you took Ryan up on his offer.”

Oh, sugar-honey-iced-tea.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” 
“You know exactly what I mean.” 

I sighed. He knew.

“I’m sorry, doctor. At the time, it looked like all I had. Nothing else would satisfy my curiosity—or insomnia, for that matter. Your method of hypnosis sounded like the perfect method.”
“Hmm. I see. So he did put you under.”

I cocked my head. I wasn’t so sure if he knew what I was talking about.

“I had a feeling that he would have offered that method when presented with your strange circumstances. Forgive me, I may have manipulated you into telling me the truth.”

Oh, horseapples. He didn’t know. But now he does.

“You are not at fault, Jetstream. If anything, Ryan took advantage of a vulnerable psyche for his own personal gain.”
“No, wait. I was the one who agreed.”
“But you are not in your right mind. You were troubled and needed somepony to talk to—not to visit the past in your head for short-term relief.”
“Unless I found the answers I was looking for!”
“Which, you didn’t. Is that not why you are here? To be put under again?”
“I mean, yes…!”
“And I’m here to tell you it’s not worth putting your life at risk.” 

I scoffed as I turned away from the desk. Dr. Bell leaned forward as his expression became apologetic.

“The road will be difficult. It will be painful. But it will help you much more than living a fantasy scenario in your head. What Ryan offered was a dirty band-aid. What I offer you now is a full-scale operation.” 

My eyes dropped to the edge of the desk. My vision blurred at the edges as tears beaded at the corners of my eyes.

“You’re going to be okay, Jetstream. But you need to trust me.”

I was scared to lose you to that sadness again.

“All I want is to help. The question is will you allow me?”

I didn’t want to see you down again.

“Let’s get through this together.”

I miss the old Jet from flight school. 

“Forget it.”

Dr. Bell blinked, “Pardon?”

“I said ‘forget it.’ You just want me to move on like everypony else.”

The unicorn sighed, “I won’t tell you what to think Jetstream. But know that it’s much more complicated than just ‘moving on.’”

“Have you ever lost somepony, Doctor?”

Dr. Bell’s expression changed into a dark, glowering scowl, “Careful, young colt.”

“If you had the means to see them in the past, before the pain and sadness, wouldn’t you take it in a heartbeat?”

The doctor slammed his foreleg on the table. His horn sparked angrily, the lights in the office dimming. His eyes flashed with fury as he leaned over the desk.

“You… have no idea. No idea what kind of losses I’ve suffered.”

The picture frame on his desk turned to reveal a kind-eyed mare cradling a swaddled foal. My eyes widened as the doctor leaned back in his chair. 

“I’ve walked the path you walk, Jetstream. It was coincidence that I had been researching this specific method of hypnosis as a hobby—after their deaths, I saw it as providence. Salvation.” 

His glasses floated off his nose as he rubbed his eyes with his forelegs, “I nearly destroyed myself staying in the past. So great was my despair, I was willing to give up the present for the fantasy I had invented in my head. But in my darkest hour, I realized my talents in psychiatry would be needed—I held the responsibility to ensure nopony had to go through something like this alone ever again.” 

Dr. Bell replaced his glasses across his nose as his horn flared. The lights were brought back as he turned away from me. 

“Forgive my outburst. I will not hold you against your will, but I don’t want you making my mistakes. Nopony deserves a fate as dark as that. Call me anytime on my business card—I promise you I will do my best to help you.”

His horn glowed again, the door opening behind me. I stared at the back of his head with a mixture of frustration and curiosity. 

Then I trotted out of his office.





Jetstream, 

I hope you are doing well in your recovery. 

I must apologize for introducing the practice of self-suggested time travel. It has always been a dangerous method of hypnosis even in the most controlled environments. Despite this, I took advantage of you. 
I used you.

I am disgusted with my actions—having broken my Hippocratic oath in a selfish attempt to discover the limits of this forbidden practice firsthand. 

I hope you enjoy more success with Dr. Bell. He is a decent pony—you can trust him to help you find what you seek.

Should you wish to seek compensation for legal damages, my address is listed below. 

My deepest apologies, 
Ryan Syllabus

I pushed the letter away, leaning back in my chair. Strangely, I didn’t feel angry at him. While it had been a harrowing trip to the hospital, the time spent in the past was far from unpleasant. It had the desired effect, reinvigorating me and soothing the damage inflicted by the fateful morning in the urgent care center. It felt right.

I ran my foreleg through my mane as I massaged my scalp, anxiety bundling my stomach into a single corded knot. The doctor’s harsh words rang between my ears. I could feel the previously cooled anger beginning to bubble up again as I remembered his beady eyes glowering over the bridge of his muzzle. 

I wanted to say we were different—that his loss was straightforward. That Rainbow Dash held far more mystery than simple grief. What did he know of my circumstances?

The picture frame flashed behind my eyes, sobering my fiery anger back into an ashen heap. 

Maybe it was me who didn’t know anything.

I turned to the library book on the table, resting my chin on the edge as I halfheartedly scanned the interior. Pictures of Ponyville and Rainbow Dash stared back innocently, my eyes skimming the paragraph just below them.

…and I asked if she had any regrets. 

“Well, of course I do,” she explained. “Lots of little things here and there. Shouldn’t have eaten an entire box of Oat-E-O’s in one sitting, should’ve gone to bed early last night, , shouldn’t have forgotten to put the milk back in the icebox…” 

Her smile faded as she got serious for a moment, eyes unfocused as if staring at something far in the distance.

“…Should’ve said what I wanted to say to a special somepony.” 

When I countered she said she hadn’t told me about being in a relationship before, she shrugged her wings, “Guess I never mentioned it till now. He was a flyer, like me. From Manehatten. We just—”

I blinked. I read the sentence again. And again.

Grabbing Ryan’s letter in my mouth, I bolted out of my apartment.