It was just another day in a life for Daphne when she finally saw Candle Light again. She'd been expecting the mare to show herself again at some point, but didn't think it'd take so long.
The skies in North Dakota were a little more blue than they used to be, the grass more green here than in Arizona, what with almost no one left on Earth, but it didn't seem worth anything. This wasn't where she was meant to be, not at all. Not here working in an oil field where the weather could get worse than her hometown, engaged to someone she didn't really have an interest in, getting into the late stages of pregnancy. Sure, it wasn't like it was the worst situation ever; Pete was a nice guy, and if she had to take time off of work, she'd be accommodated. But still, Daphne couldn't help but sigh sadly and wish things were different.
Why was the only other option one she didn't believe in, no matter how hard she tried or how much she wanted to?
The day that Candle Light came by was a warm one in mid summer. It was just under ninety degrees, not a cloud in the sky as Daphne stayed home alone for the start of maternity leave. She was still a month away from her due date, but figured if she could, she might as well rest. Not that there was much for her to do at home compared to work. Nothing but the same old games and books to pass time in between thinking about how screwed up everything was, how much things would change for her soon, and watching another one of Celestia’s vans drive past the outskirts of the city, near where her apartment with Pete sat.
Except this one stopped in her view a few hundred yards away, and opened its doors to show a technological looking inside view. Advanced wiring and medical gear sat inside, along with a couple of seats that almost certainly served the purpose Daphne thought. It didn’t really seem that bad though; it looked like there was a television with some show on and a couple of kind looking nurses waiting patiently for whoever was going to be picked up.
Except no one was picked up. One of the nurses grabbed a device that looked like a drone, carefully tossed it into the air, then promptly shut the door for the van to continue on. The drone didn’t fall to the ground though, instead floating lazily in the area it was thrown before making its slow way to… somewhere.
Her apartment she realized after a few minutes of it drifting slowly towards her, the sun reflecting off of the bright red metal it was constructed from. It made its way to her window, the thing gently bumping into the glass as though asking her to open it up and let it inside. Daphne wanted to go to a different room and pretend she didn't see it, and actually considered doing so. Instead though, she sighed and brought the thing into her home, carefully setting it on a table. She somehow knew that if she didn't, Equestria was just going to find another way to contact her.
Why was her heart pounding so hard? There wasn’t anything left that could be taken away from her. Her family was gone, Pete was staunchly against uploading, and her baby hadn’t even been born yet.
Daphne turned around and crossed her arms, so her sad expression couldn't be seen. “Why do you want to talk to me?” she asked, before she even heard anything happen. It wasn't like it mattered. She was sure she could be heard if Candle Light knew where she lived.
Why am I giving her the benefit of the doubt, the opportunity at all? Daphne wondered silently. She knew why.
There wasn't an immediate response; it took a few seconds before she saw the light show started and a few mechanical noises sounded, the thing doing whatever it needed to get flying into the air again, projecting the pink pony in front of her. The mare looked the same as always. She had bright emerald eyes behind brown glasses, and a mane of periwinkle and lavender and light blue that twisted and curled around her ears and neck, along with a youthful sort of expression on her face, nothing like a child would expect of their parent. Perhaps the only difference in what Daphne saw now was that she wasn't happy or excited like she'd come to know, either before she was a pony or after. Her smile was more sad, her gaze a little more soft than it was intense. Not necessarily sympathetic though– empathetic.
“Because I care about you,” was the obvious reply, soft and gentle, just as gentle as her father always was. And sincere, she thought. Was Daphne already tearing up? She kept her arms crossed as she glanced away.
“Is it okay if I talk to you, Daffie?” Candle Light asked. Daphne could see out of the corners of her eyes the mare’s gaze fall onto her stomach before pointing back up at her face. “How are you doing, honey?” she asked carefully. “Are you being safe?’
“As safe as I can be.” Daphne flinched at her voice crack, and sniffed. Of course, this was already getting to her. “You probably already know that though, and everything else,” she added quietly. “Since you're here and all.”
“Well, what I mean is, are you doing okay?”
Daphne turned back to see Candle Light’s big, wide, innocent looking eyes shift back into sadness as she tilted her head slightly. Just the expression on her own face gave Daphne away. How the hell could she be?
“Honey…” Candle Light trailed off in a pained voice.
“What am I supposed to do though?” Daphne was already on the defensive, her voice raising. “I can’t– I can’t just trust Celestia! That’s too risky! So what am I supposed to do but be here and…”
And falter, and wonder, and feel awful and regretful. It was all so silly. She knew what she was supposed to do. She knew that since just before Olivia uploaded. And yet, here she was in stupid North Dakota, wasting her life away.
And Candle Light wasn’t helping. Seeing the mare just hurt too much, enough that Daphne had to turn away again and shut her eyes tightly. Why was this all happening? Why couldn't she just understand it like everyone else?
“Nighty?” Candle Light got out. “I know it's hard, but we need to talk about this. Please?” Daphne kept her eyes shut tight as she quickly shook her head. She hoped she would just go away and leave her to die without ever getting it. It wasn’t like talking had done any good before, as much as she wanted it to.
“Nighty, please…”
“You should just stop trying,” Daphne's voice cracked again. “Just give up on me.” Her lip trembled, and she had to hold back her tears. She really, desperately wanted the moment to come along when it would finally click for her. But she knew it never would. Maybe she just didn’t deserve to be happy at all.
Then she heard him.
“Daphne, will you please talk to me?”
Her ears flicked as they registered the sound, and Daphne’s eyes opened wide again with a gasp. She didn't turn around yet though. There was no way what she heard was real. She hadn't heard that voice in years.
“I need you to turn around and talk to me, Daffie,” he said. “It's important to me.”
Her body moved slowly, and when she was fully turned around again, her eyes betrayed her. What she was seeing wasn't real. And yet there he was in front of her, exactly as she remembered. Not just as she remembered, but the way he looked before his cancer diagnosis. He was overweight and hairy with light skin that was the opposite of her mother's, making Daphne’s the tannish brown it always was. He wasn't particularly tall, but he was definitely a few inches taller than her, and probably the tallest one in their family, even at only a modest five foot nine. He had a little stubble on his roundish face that sat below short, dirty blonde hair, and glasses that were almost a carbon copy of the ones Candle Light wore. And behind those glasses were the eyes that were, instead of an unfamiliar emerald green, the icy blue Daphne had known all her life. Ones that pierced right through her brown ones into her soul.
This was her father.
“Dad…” she choked out, the words barely escaping her lips as she put her hands in her face. She couldn't hold back her tears anymore.
“Is that actually you?”
“I promise, it's absolutely me,” he assured her gently. “Now look at me, Daffie? Honey?” She made sure her red eyes were pushed into his blue ones as he told her, “You have to do this.”
“D-dad, I–”
“No, sweetie, it's not a question anymore,” he continued. “I'm your parent, and know what's best for you. I'm telling you that you have to make sure you emigrate. For me.”
Daphne's body was shaking as she trembled in place, wanting to turn away but unable to. Finally, she took her eyes off of him and said quietly, “I don't know if I can. I don't know what's wrong with me.”
“You can,” her father said, softly but assuredly. “And you will. I know you will, because you have to. Let me show you something I've been working on.”
He walked through her apartment, Daphne's gaze trained on him as the drone turned and projected his image wherever he wanted to go, a steady hum coming from the thing. She didn't know what to expect, but prepared for anything. The girl has few thoughts about what it could be.
On the table were three plain looking syringes; a bit larger than usual, and with a longer needle than the ones that came in vaccinations, but still normal enough. Her father couldn't pick it up, of course. He was just a projection. But he was able to beckon Daphne closer with a finger.
“Rising Ranks and I have been working on this for you,” he said, a little bit of excitement in his voice. It was strange. His old voice was there, but his mannerisms were just a little different than they were when she last saw her father in person. They were more like Candle Light's now, from what Daphne heard, with a slightly upbeat quality she'd expect of a young adult. But then that was who he'd been for how many years he said?
“Remember when I asked you if you'd be okay if I had a way to emigrate you without it being immediate?” he asked. “I know you said no, but this is what I worked on anyway! You can use this to emigrate automatically if something were to happen to you! That way, you can live on Earth for however long you want, and if there was an accident, you'd be safe in Equestria when you woke up!”
Daphne blinked, but didn't argue, as uncomfortable as she was by this. Was she still crying? She wiped her eyes, sniffed, and asked, “Why are there three of them?”
“Two of them would be for you and your foal,” he explained, “and the third would be for that guy that you're with.”
That made sense. Daphne didn't even bother asking how he knew about Pete; he knew where she lived. Obviously he'd been watching over her. The thought of a guardian angel popped into her mind.
Except her breathing was picking up again. She wanted to say no, to refuse him, although didn't have a reason why. She never had a reason why. Was she just traumatized? She didn't know. She felt dizzy, and reached out to grab her father's wrist to hold onto, but her hand passed through him, and she fell to her knees.
“I don't want that,” she told him quietly, shakily, brushing herself off as she pushed herself back up. “I already—”
“I know you told me that before, honey,” Daphne's father interrupted, “but I'm not asking anymore. I'm telling you: you have to trust me and do this. If I have to build a robot and visit you in pony and inject it myself, I will, because it's that serious! You can't push it forever! It's too risky!”
He was getting worked up now, Daphne could tell that by his raising voice and his own tears forming. It threatened to bring some of Daphne’s back, but she pushed them down as her father continued.
“I just want you to be safe, Daffie,” he told her, more quietly now. “We all do. Spelly and Sky and Silver and your mother—I just want you to be safe so badly, Daffie.” He was whispering now as he wiped his eyes and said, “You were coming along before, slowly, but then Spelly got here and… I don't know what happened. You just shut off after that!”
His lip was trembling, just like Daphne forced herself not to do. Seeing him here as a human was hitting her harder than seeing him show up as a pony. She was much closer to believing him now than she was just talking to him through a screen. It felt like a slap in the face, almost knocking some sense into her.
“And you'd be my mother if I was there?” she asked carefully.
“I’d love to be, if you'd let me,” was the tearful reply. “And a grandma, too. But I'd change into a stallion if it got you here.” He looked away briefly, and added, “Not forever, but until you got used to it, Nighty. Unless that was what you absolutely wanted. It would hurt, but… you'd be safe…”
Why that was what was getting to her, Daphne pretended not to know. But only pretend. Of course, it was really him, but the real thing or just a very good copy, that he was willing to change back just to get her to upload…
“Wh…” She closed her eyes, let out a long breath, and asked, “Where would I inject it? And what would happen after? It's… it's not gonna work immediately, right? And what would happen with…” Daphne glanced down at her stomach, then back up into her father's eyes.
He let out a long breath of his own and explained, “In the back of your neck. You push until you hear a click, and that's it. And while you're pregnant, if you were hurt, it would work on your foal, too. Once it's born though, you'd need to do the same thing with your foal.”
“And it won't upload me immediately?” she asked. “You promise?”
“It won't emigrate you immediately, I promise,” he said kindly, flashing a small, gentle smile that she'd known her whole life. It was one Daphne even saw in Candle Light before. It made her feel a little more secure.
“I do want you to know though,” he continued, “it works by scanning your brain and uploading that immediately, because if you got shot in the head for example, you'd need to be uploaded to be successfully brought to Equestria. But it won't emigrate you unless you were about to die. You'll be uploaded, but technically living in the Outer Realm as a human until you were ready to go to Equestria or died.”
Of course it would upload her immediately. Daphne couldn't be surprised by that.
But he was being honest and upfront with her, and what he said made sense. And he was ready to change back to a stallion if it meant she would upload. If he was just a copy, would that not be basically the same as being her real father? Daphne didn't know.
She felt goosebumps on her skin, and her breathing picked up once again. It all made so much sense, and yet she was still conflicted, and wanted to say no. How many other people had an option like this, had someone who was doing all they could for them, who was nothing but honest about everything? No one, and yet she still wanted to say no, bad enough that she was shaking. What in the world was wrong with her? Why was she so afraid?
“Nighty?” Candle Light asked quietly, unsure. Nighty was a good nickname. It'd be so much nicer being Night Watcher the bat pony, who lived with her family again, than it would be to be Daphne the human, living with Pete and a baby she didn't really want.
“I'll think about it,” Daphne told him finally, after forever had passed. It was the best she could offer right now. It was better than anything she'd given before.