Fallen Angels

by Lt_Voss

Chapter 6 - Reconciliatio

There was a problem. Well, it wasn't so much a problem as it was a conundrum. See, I'd been led to believe by Styx herself that, should a wraith die, regardless of whether or not they were a Reaper, their memory would be erased forever. Not their knowledge, mind. I mean she said that the memory of that wraith would pass from the universe without a trace. No one would be able to remember who you were, if you existed, et cetera. So, for example, if I died according to Styx, Bill would not remember me, my own mother wouldn't remember me, and so on. But, see, that was just the problem.

I remembered Lily Pad.

I don't know if it took time for the memory to be erased, but Lily Pad was still fresh in my mind. I could see her figure perfectly, hear her voice to the tone. That's why I was standing around, looking like an idiot. I wasn't supposed to remember anything about Lily Pad. I wasn't even supposed to remember she had even existed. I would have to have a talk with Styx when I next saw her, if I ever saw her again.

But I had no time right now. I don't know who gives us our assignments, but I guessed I'd have to work quickly to escape them for just long enough to get my project done. Nodding to Bill, we made a straight dash. I couldn't put this off. I needed to get it done yesterday. Well... you know what I mean.

We booked it down the road. Dust kicked up from under our feet, making it seem as if a random dust storm had set in. While it was rare, it did happen here in Ponyville, though certainly not as often as, say, it did farther south. Sooner than later, though whether it was because Bill and I'd gained some sort of speed boost by dying I knew not, Ponyville disappeared behind us. What took a little while longer was getting to... it. And though it pained me to do so, see it I did.

The cottage, or more accurately its remains, came into view soon enough. It looked like some work had been done on it, because it was not as destroyed as I remember it being. I made it to the door without breaking into tears, and Bill could do nothing to aid me, for he knew this was a deep emotional pain; since we were no longer tied together as we were when we were alive, he could not so directly affect me as he once could. Taking a breath, steeling myself to face memories long buried, I opened the door and took a step inside. I maybe could have done that a bit differently.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! LEAVE ME ALONE!" The voice pierced my ears, and this time they did in fact hurt. I could feel my face scrunch up, and I had to struggle to keep my hands by my sides.

In a weak voice... well, I thought it was weak. My hearing was a little impaired, so I had to guess my tone. In a weak voice, I whispered, "Fluttershy?"

The word passed my lips before my mind could remind me it had pained me to so much as think of it silently. Fortunately, as it did, it did not register within my brain and my body was spared additional anguish. Bill stood astounded, for he knew what I was thinking; it wasn't hard for him to get into my mind at all, what with how close we were. Still, my ears' assailant heard my inquiry. Immediately, its tone altered dramatically, and the next words I heard were less damaging. "... Will?"

The yellow mare I'd loved so much stepped out from behind the couch, which was in good state, as opposed to when it was mostly ash many years ago. Her pink mane was just that: pink. The soot I'd seen on her last was no longer present, her voice no longer carried the rasp of smoke inhalation, and her eyes were watering for another reason. "I'm so sorry," she pleaded. "I didn't know it was you; if I had I wouldn't have screamed. Please forgive me!"

Taking no extra time, I quickly made my way over to my wife. My wife... I felt liberated. Seeing her again, for the first time since her death, I felt free to say her name and who she was to me. I no longer felt restrained or restricted from voicing my relation. I stroked her mane, her wonderful, flowing mane that I'd loved to play with at night after a long day of work. "Hush now," I told her quietly, my hearing more or less back to normal as if her soft voice had healed me. "You couldn't have known it was me. I'd heard a lot of ponies were coming by. I understand if you thought I could have been one of them."

"But I should have known it was you! Oh, I'm just a big mess up."

"Don't you dare talk like that," my voice caring but firm. "You are not a mess up. You are the most perfect pony I've met in my entire life. Besides, though I hated to wait so long, it's been years since... that day." More tears welled in my eyes. "When you told me you'd wait for me?" I tried to chuckle but it came out wrong. It sounded more like a cough than a gesture of amusement. "I'm glad you did." I hugged her as tightly as I could without outright choking her. "I love you, Fluttershy."

Still crying, she pressed her face into my chest and sobbed. "I love you too, Will," she pushed out.

Sitting like this, with my wife in my arms, reunited once more, resting within our not-as-damaged-as-before home... I felt like I could have sat there forever. Bill was content to let me be, standing aside and out of the way. I was a terrible husband, however. It wasn't until I caught on to Bill's hand motions, which consisted of shaping a small box and a hug, did I realise just what he was trying to get me to notice. "Where..." I feared to bring to light another possible chance to cause an outright breakdown, but it had to be asked. "Where are... our... foals?"

Fluttershy didn't answer immediately. In fact, for several seconds her bawling intensified. As it died down to the sobs she'd had before I'd asked the question, she responded, "They're... upstairs..." She stopped me from going up to check however. I had shifted my weight, so I assume that's why she had done so. "I don't... I don't mean inside the house."

I stared at her with blank sadness and asked, "What do you mean? Upstairs, but not in the house?"

Fluttershy nodded. "A human lady came to me... to us... she said she was there to bring us to... a better place..." She began crying more, and she snuggled closer into my chest. "Moonshy and Victor wanted to go, but I'd promised you I would wait..."

"So you let them go while you stayed behind." Before Fluttershy could answer Bill's head snapped to the door and he quickly went outside to deal with whatever it was. Fluttershy didn't notice, thankfully.

"Yes... was that bad?"

I shook my head, though she couldn't see me. "No, Fluttershy. That was perfect. Thank you."

Fluttershy was about to respond before a loud shout from outside interrupted her: "I WILL ERASE YOU!" The front door flew open and a body sailed in, landing on its back. My wife and I stared in shock and both wondered what was going on. Before the man could get up, Bill came in and used the body as a landing strip. He began to pound his fists into the man, his cries of pain and terror wracking through my body.

"Please, please!" The man cried. "I'm just the messenger! Plea-hee-hee-heese sto-hop!" By the end of his cries for mercy, they had degenerated into wails.

"Bill!" I shouted. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"Loot at this!" He yelled back, shoving a folded paper at my face. I practically had to snatch it from Bill, but when I read what was on the paper, I could sort of understand just where he was coming from.

It took me several seconds to process the meaning of the letter. Seconds that, unbeknownst to me, Fluttershy used to read the letter. Bill and the messenger had simply used the seconds staring at me to watch my response. Boy, did they get an eye and ear full. Fluttershy began crying. "Did I do something wrong? I didn't know I was hurting them! They wouldn't stop coming here! I didn't mean to scream! They wouldn't leave me alone!" She fell to the floor and started flooding the home.

Meanwhile, I strode to the messenger and crumpled the letter in my hands. "You," I said, my voice oozing anger. I threw the balled-up letter at him. "Can take this back to Styx and tell her where she can shove it. There is no way in the Hells I will do this. If the miststück can feel no sympathy, no remorse, no respect, then she deserves none from me. Tell her she can figuratively go to Hell." With that, I walked over to my wife, gently picked her up and held her with her head over my shoulder so she could cry. Bill followed me out of the cottage.

"So where to next, Will?" Bill asked. "Only a day in service as a Reaper and already we're fugitives. How intriguing."

"I think I know where we can go. First, however, we need to get to the library and let Silver know where we're headed."

Bill looked at me quizzically. "And where would that be?"

I looked grimly at him. "To the only person I think can help us at this point."

"Who's that?" Bill inquired me, cocking his head slightly, like a dog. "You can't mean Him, I hope."

I shook my head no. "Of course not. if he's the one that had us become Reapers, I'm sure he could be very well pissed at our mutiny. No, I mean another." Bill stared at me expectantly. In response, I gave him a dead pan. "Really?" I sighed. "I am talking, Bill," I said slowly. "About my mother."

"And what do you think she could do?" He asked. "You'll be lucky if she can hear us, much less see us. What makes you think she won't pass our voices, and that is if she even hears us, off as part of her condition?!"

I gave him a black look, which transformed into confusion. "Condition?"

Bill nodded grimly. "Come on, let's get to the library. I'll tell you about it on the way."