The sun was once more setting over the horizon, with Mark and Fluttershy on their way to the preserve. They had agreed to do one last trip for the painting, but not to stick around afterwards. They'd decide later on whether to come back again.
As Mark pulled into the familiar parking lot of the preserve, a knot was forming in his stomach. Even though both he and Fluttershy had discussed the matter earlier and agreed to do this last visit, something felt off…and both knew exactly with whom their suspicions resided.
He parked his car, trying to process everything. It was to no avail. He considered discussing this further with Fluttershy, but feared he may cause her to become overly anxious. She was Fluttershy, after all.
Surely things would be fine. He reassured himself of this for the umpteenth time, hoping it would eventually stick.
His thoughts were broken by a sound in the car accompanying a light turning on. Checking the indicators, he saw the "Check Tire" warning appear. Cycling through the options added fuel to his growing fear: The front left tire was in single digits, far below what the other three were at.
"Stay here, 'Shy." He announced to the pegasus, "I'm going to check something."
Leaving the front seat, he got out to inspect the tire. The rim was nearly to the ground, and with a look around the tire, Mark confirmed his suspicions: A large, rusty nail was embedded in the rubber. He pulled it out, though it did very little to help the current situation.
So preoccupied was Mark that he didn't notice Sheila walking up to him.
"You hit a flat?" She inquired.
Mark sighed, turning around to face her. "Yep, afraid I did."
Sheila smiled. "Well I've got some stuff back at my place that should fix your tire up, at least temporarily. What do you say we come back to this after I finish that painting? You can ride in my car for the time being."
"Yeah, that'll work." Mark replied with a smile.
Opening the back door to let Fluttershy out, the two climbed into Sheila's car, the engine roaring to life as she pulled out of the parking lot. Mark felt concerned at leaving his car behind, but realized they didn't have many other options at this point. It would only be a short trip, anyway.
Arriving at her house, Sheila joined Mark and Fluttershy in the familiar setting of the art studio. Sheila quickly resumed her work, mixing together paint until she had just the color she wanted, then began applying gentle strokes to the canvas.
Mark, for his part, remained silent, hoping not to disturb the artist at work. He noticed her husband was once more conspicuously absent for the time, realizing he didn't even know what the man did for a living. He decided to hold these questions until after their art session.
Fortunately for him, this concluded much sooner than yesterday.
"I think that'll do it for now." Sheila announced, the two walking back to the main living room. "I want to leave the final product as a bit of a surprise for both of you, so I'll finish the rest up later. For now, can I get you both anything?"
Fluttershy beat Mark to the punch. "I think we should be okay, but thank yo-"
The front door swung open as her husband walked in. He regarded the two with another strange look, which softened somewhat when he noticed his wife.
"Honey, you're home early!" She exclaimed, running over to hug him.
"Yeah, well that's Friday for you." He responded with a chuckle, "The boss wanted me to come home and try to take it easy."
Sheila's face soured slightly. "Well, I actually need your help with something." She indicated Mark and Fluttershy, "Those two got a flat tire and won't be going home without some help. Do you know where the goo is?"
Her husband thought for a moment. "I don't think so."
"You were the one who used it last." She teased, "Could you please look for it?"
He sighed. "Yeah, I can do that."
The man walked down a hallway leading to a room Mark hadn't seen before, then closed the door behind him.
"Garage?" Mark asked.
"Garage." Sheila confirmed.
The three sat quietly on the couches while the sounds of clanging metal in the garage rang out, no doubt the product of vigorous searching.
"Sheila?" Mark began, "What does your husband do?"
She smiled. "He works out at the bar keeping people safe. He's not a guard, but he definitely has done a lot to protect people. Just last week, he was in quite a scuffle - came back with some nasty bruises!" She chuckled lightly before letting out a sigh, "He's doing fine now, though. He recovered nicely."
Her expression shifted as she thought on something, though Mark wasn't sure what.
Yet, he could see sadness in her eyes.
"I need to apologize for how my husband has been acting." She began, "He's normally very sociable, but with everything that's happened recently…"
She trailed off, her gaze distantly focused on the coffee table.
"You know, we had a daughter a few years ago." She continued, looking back up at Mark and Fluttershy, "Her name was Makenzie, she was a wonderful girl. A very spunky girl, always going out and hiking in the woods. She was planning to become an environmentalist one day, see if she could help save endangered species."
Sheila frowned. "That was her plan, at least."
Mark leaned forward. "What happened?"
"A cancerous tumor grew in her skull." She explained, "Makenzie went in for a chemotherapy consultation, and she was optimistic, even with the low survival rate, but…"
Sheila shook her head.
"We couldn't afford the treatment."
Mark and Fluttershy sat back in shock at the story.
"She didn't even make it to her 18th birthday." Sheila whispered.
Unsure what else he could say, Mark replied, "I'm sorry."
Sheila dried a tear that had formed in her eye. "It's okay. It was a few years ago, and we'd both moved on…at least, I thought we had." She glanced once more at Mark. "She was a bit like you, actually."
Mark shared a glance with Fluttershy, returning his gaze to Sheila. "Like me?"
Sheila nodded. "You have a good heart, Mark. I think you two would've been good friends." Upon hearing a particularly loud sound, she briefly glanced back at the hallway leading to the garage. She afterward returned her attention to her two guests. "I think that's why my husband is having such a hard time."
"Because I remind him of her?" Mark asked.
Sheila nodded. "Parents shouldn't have favorite children, but she was definitely the one closest to him. He'd even bought a canoe for the two of them to go down the river on a weekend trip. Only a few days later, she was diagnosed."
She sighed. "I really must apologize. He's a wonderful man, he's just-"
A loud roar sounded from outside.
The three shared panicked glances. Each had the same thought on their mind, and each silently hoped they were wrong. When a new roar broke the silence, the three quickly rushed to the hallway leading to the garage.
The door was open, combining what little light remained outside with the fluorescent bulbs overhead. It perfectly illuminated the scene before them.
Taken back in horror at the scene before her, Sheila instinctively screamed in fear for her husband:
"Carter!"