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// Second Chances 
// Story: A Study In Nonsense 
// by Professor Piggy 
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She was just in time. Just in time to watch herself ruin everything, and just in time to do everything she could to make it right. To hopefully make it right. Maybe. If she was lucky. But luck was one thing that she possessed in abundance, though she had always been loath to admit it – the four years she had spent with that perilous, precious pink pony, holding her in the dark or being held by her, were proof enough of that.

She didn’t deserve Pinkie Pie - she knew it, just as well as she knew the Twenty-Three Maxims of Starswirl the Bearded or the recipe for dragon cough syrup. What she had said to that pony - that prancing pink paradox that had swept into her life and turned it completely upside down, who had put a smile on her face and helped her to achieve her life’s work – was unforgivable. She knew it, because she was watching it happen.

Peering through the library window, doing her best to stay out of sight, Twilight Sparkle watched herself make the biggest mistake of her life.

Twilight couldn’t hear her own words, from where she was. It didn’t matter – she remembered them. And she wouldn’t have heard them anyway – her attention was fully focused on Pinkie. On the way her smile dropped a little, with each passing second. On the way she stepped back, visibly trying to put distance between herself and Twilight. On the way that the smile became a frown, and the eyes became wet with tears. And then, as the tirade reached its end, she saw Pinkie’s head snap back up – the sadness and pain disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced with unimaginable fury that vanished as quickly as it came. Twilight Sparkle watched as the pony she loved buried her anger, and a mask of apathy replaced it.

She hadn’t understood, then – if she had, perhaps she could have fixed things right then, wrapped her forelegs around Pinkie and said exactly what needed to be said to make everything okay again. But she hadn’t understood. And that terrified her – because she still didn’t. She didn’t know why Pinkie turned her face away, hid her sadness from her, instead of sharing them. It didn’t make sense – nothing about her did. Nothing about her ever had. And that terrified Twilight. Because if she didn’t understand Pinkie, she couldn’t fix things. She didn’t have a chance.

But she had to try. Because if she understood nothing else, she understood that she needed Pinkie. More than anything else in all the world, she needed Pinkie – and even though Pinkie didn’t need her, she believed that Pinkie wanted her. Why else would she have put up with everything Twilight had done wrong over the course of the relationship? All the stupid, careless words she had said and the hurt she had caused – she had to believe that Pinkie forgave her for those, and she had to believe that she did it for the same reason Twilight forgave Pinkie: because she loved her.

As Pinkie spun on a hoof and stormed out of the library, Twilight waited. As the sound of a slamming door echoed through the air, Twilight watched. As Pinkie’s eyes widened in shock, taking in the small, meticulously prepared party that was waiting for her just outside the door, Twilight hoped.

Pinkie swallowed, and slowly turned her eyes towards her gathered friends. “Dashie?” She whispered quietly, voice shaking just a little, “What’s going on?”

Dash shrugged, doing her best to look casual, and pointed a hoof at Twilight as she answered, “I dunno, Pinks – why don’t you ask her? She’s the one who invited us all.”

Pinkie turned to face her, and pain flashed in her eyes. “But…why?”

She sounded lost. Afraid. It was all that Twilight could do not to embrace her – but she knew that Pinkie would never allow it. Not now.

“Because I love you,” she said instead, very carefully, “And because I’m sorry.”

Pinkie didn’t move.  She didn’t tackle Twilight, or thank her, or pepper her with little kisses. She just stood there, with anger and hurt written all over her face, and very quietly said those beautiful, magical words. “I love you, too.”

It wasn’t a lot. But it was a start, and it was more than she deserved.