"Doc, are you crying?" Silver asked. She had been telling Doc her story and lost herself in the memory. Every thought, every move, every emotion Silver had unintentionally shared with this guy. She guessed he was a light heart when it came to this stuff.
"No, absolutely not!" Doc replied, but the sound of a light sniffle told Silver otherwise.
"Doc, please don't lie to me. It's just common courtesy." Silver wanted him to admit it. She figured him to be sympathetic to his patients, given most of them honestly needed and deserved it, but this went to an almost empathetic level. Maybe he's really good at his job because he can feel more empathy than most shrinks, Silver thought to herself.
"Fine, I'm crying," Doc finally gave in as he rushed for his desk. A few seconds of him rummaging through his drawer he came back with a plain brown box with tissues sticking out of it. He set it down on the table and pulled one out for himself, blowing into it. "Honestly, I don't know how you can't be. I wasn't even there and you have me crying! ME! I'm supposed to be able to hold it together!"
"Simple answer, Doc: I'm the mental patient," Silver replied as plainly as she could, "I'm supposed to be screwed up in the head. You, on the other hoof, aren't. That's why you're the Doctor here." Okay, so Silver bent the truth a little. The truth was she had cried, but it was at that spot where her final tie to the good days was destroyed. Shattered over the alley corner, the frames themselves so ruined as to be nearly irrepairable. But during her time in the police office, she'd gotten to think about them. Think of ways to make it right.
Her first thought had been to give the four colts another lesson in mental instability, but her conscious held her back on that front. It wasn't their fault, even if they had caused the situation. In the end, it was just bad timing on all parties involved. Well, most parties, anyway.
"Now you don't lie to me," Doc retorted. Silver knew it was a shot in the dark, but she decided to give him a small victory.
"Fine. I'm not crying because I have a plan. I have all the pieces, I have the frames, mostly thanks to Octavia," Silver replied. Doc froze when she mentioned the name, tissue still in his hoof.
"Thanks to-- wait, what?" Doc suddenly had this half-confused, half-amazed look on his face.
"You started crying before formal introductions, Doc," Silver stated.
"No no no, you just said 'Octavia', as in the Octavia?"
This time it was Silver's turn to look perplexed. "Pink bowtie, white collar, treble clef cutie mark?"
"That's the one!"
"She's famous?"
"How could you not know?!" Doc waved his hooves like mad.
"How could I?" Silver replied plainly, "I live in a low-end apartment in the low-income side of the city with a hyperactive, wannabe newspony and a filly a little over half my age. I can afford food and shelter, but not really any magazines."
Doc held up his hoof pointing at Silver as if he was going to retort but said in a plain voice, "Fair enough. So, what happened next?" He returned to his sitting posture on the chair, tossing the tissue into the wastebin next to the chair.
How did I miss seeing that? Silver thought to herself. She took in a deep breath and cleared her mind again. She wanted just the memories and not the thought of saving a famous pony, which actually made her feel a little giddy inside. Then she began again, though not quite where she'd left off.
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"Okay, I have just one question for you."
Octavia's ears perked at the first words she'd heard from Silver since they'd arrived. Octavia looked up, looking at the silver pegasus through the iron bars that separated them. Even after Octavia had explained exactly what happened, the still had Silver in the locked cell. Octavia still didn't understand why but had given up trying to find out. "Very well, what would you like to know?" Octavia asked plainly.
"Why did you have them pick up the pieces?"
Octavia narrowed her eyes for a bit, wondering if the pegasus sitting in front of her was being serious. This pegasus that not forty minutes earlier had been taking down four large colts chasing Octavia without so much as a hint of hesitation or fear . She'd moved extremely fast, almost too fast for the musician to track. Now she looked as if she was a stone statue, looking at her forelegs as she talked. "Because there's always a chance to repair them," Octavia replied simply.
The bag holding all of the pieces of the pegasus' shades was laying on the nearest desk in the police station among the written testimonials of the four colts and Octavia. Her rescuer had yet to give a statement, having been sent into emotional shock. At least, that was Octavia's theory. It wasn't too good, but it was better than nothing.
The building the two were in was barely populated, given that most officers were either home or on night patrol. It was extremely late, after all. The desks in the main lobby were arranged in two rows, both rows consisting of seven desks. The thing about this office, however, was that the holding cells were across from the windows overlooking the street outside. Octavia sat in front of the last cell in the line of four, farthest away from the one the colts from earlier were being held in. All four cells were exactly the same: concrete floor, concrete walls, concrete ceiling. One amenity was the light in each cell, inset into the ceiling so that prisoners couldn't reach it. That was the only not-concrete thing about the cells besides the iron bars that made the barrier between the desks and the occupants.
"Has she said anything?" A gruff voice asked from behind Octavia. He was a navy blue unicorn with a midnight blue mane. His cap and coat showed that he was the nighttime captain in charge of the station.
"Nothing of interest to your investigation, I'm afraid. Perhaps if we let her out?" Octavia was hoping to get some freedom for her odd rescuer.
"She's in there of her own request, you know. I've seen her type before, honestly. Take every attempt to be punished about something bad they think they did."
"Actually," the pegasus said as she looked up. Her silver eyes were oddly entrancing as Octavia watched them move to the officer. "I asked to be in here for their safety," she jerked her head towards the line of cells to Octavia's left, "not because of some sort of self-destruction. Ask anypony, I like myself too much to accept undue punishment."
"That's quite possibly the longest sentence from you that I've heard," Octavia thought aloud.
"Do we at least have somepony to notify of where you are? Or even a name to work with?" the captain asked.
The pony took in a deep breath, obviously trying to remain calm from something within her thoughts. "Just call me Silver. And please get those four out of here soon." With that she looked back down at her hooves and returned to her statuesque position.
Wow, she's really shut down. Those shades must have been extremely important, even more than Vinyl's, Octavia thought to herself.
"Well, I guess that's it from her," the captain said plainly, "I'm currently waiting for a group to help transport the colts in the end cell to another facility. We don't actually have long-term cells in this place, as you can see."
"Very well, thank you," Octavia replied kindly as the captain walked down to the other end.
"You know you get one now, right?" Silver's sudden question startled Octavia. She quickly looked over and saw the pegasus watching her with those silver eyes, a hint of pain swimming amongst other intangible emotions.
"One what?" Octavia stepped closer to the bars before sitting next to the cell, looking in on its occupant.
"A question. You get one question, not including the one you just asked." Silver's lips tugged into a small smile for a second before returning to her neutral expression. "Use it wisely."
Octavia knew the question to ask, the one that might pull her rescuer out of her turmoil. Octavia didn't know how she knew the question to ask, but she knew. "Why are they so important to you?"
The pegasus looked at Octavia for a moment before turning to stare at the light in the ceiling. She remained there for a couple minutes, long enough for Octavia to start believing she wasn't getting an answer. Finally, the pegasus spoke quietly so only Octavia could hear. "Memories. A happier time in my life when I was who I should've been." The pegasus turned her head to look at Octavia again. "When I first got those shades I thought they'd be my ticket out of the pit I'd been cast into my entire life. I quickly discovered it wasn't that simple. My parents hated them, my classmates kept trying to steal them from me, the only one who ever truly liked them was my sister. She was the only pony in my life that actually cared why I'd gotten them, and the only one to help me realize that they weren't a free ticket. True, I'd gotten them custom made and everything, but they weren't the full answer. Not really."
Octavia took the moment of pause to look over at the evidence bag that still held the shattered remains of those sunglasses. She hadn't thought about them as being much more than just what they were. I guess their importance would only be known to somepony who knew the owners. Octavia's thoughts moved to her best friend momentarily before coming back where they belonged: the here and now. "Alright, your turn again," Octavia said as she turned back to the pegasus, hoping that she'd continue the game.
"What is your name?"
"Well that's a waste of a question," Octavia stated before she could even think. She instantly regretted saying it.
"Mine to waste, isn't it?" Silver asked, shrugging a shoulder.
"I suppose it is. My name is Octavia. It's a pleasure to meet you Silver." Octavia extended a hoof through the bars. This is something I never imagined I'd be doing in a million years, Octavia thought to herself. Shaking hooves with a pony behind bars that wasn't Vinyl.
Silver stood up and walked over to the bars, meeting Octavia's hoof with her own. "Likewise," she said through a polite smile. "Your turn."
"Why are you keeping up this game?" Octavia asked as they both lowered their hooves.
"Because it's better to talk to somepony than stew here imagining ways to get at those four down there." Silver accented the end of her statement by looking at the concrete wall again. The one that led down the line of cells to the other end. "I figure if I'm talking with a pony who's not as mentally crazy as I am it should keep my mind from stalling." Silver looked back through the bars, a small smile gracing her lips. "I'm not going to count that against you, by the way."
"Generous as that may be, I believe it is your turn now," Octavia replied.
Silver sighed, then looked as if she'd just had an idea. "What's the question you really want to ask?"
Octavia never got the chance to be looped in, though, as the sounds of doors slamming from the other end of the office drew both mares' attention.
In front of the double doors stood a bright orange pegasus. His golden mane showed off the fact that he next to never took care of it, being a complete mess. His short tail showed a little more care, given that it was straight. He was sort of thin, but not in an unpleasant way. He had a look in his bright green eyes that was akin to joy, though it didn't make much sense in the police station. His cutie mark, from what Octavia could make out, was a white postage stamp outline, a corner of it being cut with a pair of gold scissors.
Before Octavia could blink, the orange pegasus dashed to a random desk, opened a drawer and rifled through it. After a second he pulled out a key then headed straight to the cell Octavia was standing in front of. He nudged Octavia aside as he stuck the key in the lock. She glared at him though he never saw it.
"Silver! You won't believe it! Li'l Boss wants to see you. Now," he said frantically as he slid open the door. His voice reminding her of a stereotypic young news reporter: bright, cheery, and about an octave above normal. "Something about 'Elzie' or some name like that! Whoever she is, she's got the boss really happy! Oh, I wonder if he'll want to give you a promotion! Or maybe a raise! Or a promotion and a raise!"
"Clipper," Silver's voice was calm as she just watched the pegasus hover off the ground.
"Hey, if you get a raise, can we get a couch?"
"Clipper."
"I know the perfect place to get one! There's this great furniture shop downtown that sells--" Octavia just sat and watched as the excited pegasus, obviously named 'Clipper' for some reason, began listing everything that the shop sold in excruciating detail. "And they got this really sweet-" Clipper never got to say what it was, though, as Silver had grabbed him by his tail and pulled him to the ground.
Silver obviously regretted grabbing onto his tail with her teeth, though, because she started coughing the second she'd let him go. "By Celestia, what did you put in that?" was all she could get out between the coughing fits.
"Latest craze. Apparently the shampoo is supposed to make manes and tails literally glow! But it doesn't seem to work too well," Clipper replied as he looked at his tail.
Silver shook her head before looking to Octavia, still trying to get the taste out of her mouth. "Sorry about Clipper. When he gets on a track nothing else registers."
"It's quite alright. You seem excited about something, though," Octavia directed the last statement to the pegasus who was now hovering again, but this time close to the ground.
"Li'l Boss never wants to see his table-tops!"
"DJ's," Silver corrected with a hint of annoyance.
"Yeah, yeah. Still, Boss never asks to see his staff! He lets Check do his talking," Clipper explained.
"I see," was all Octavia could manage. "Look, thank you again for saving me back there. If there's any way I can repay you, let me know."
"I will. It's nice to talk to someone normal for a change," Silver said with a smile. "Thanks for keeping my head on straight, Octavia. Well, straighter, anyway."
"It's actually been sort of fun," Octavia said as Silver moved towards the nearest desk, "I just hope you can get those repaired."
Silver nodded, looking at the evidence bag in front of her. The one with her mangled shades within. "I do, too. I'll heal either way, though. You, on the other hoof, " She said to Clipper, a tone of authority taken over her normal voice, "make sure to put that key back. Your cousin would kill both of us if you lost it."
Clipper suddenly had a guilty smile on his face. He took the key out of the now-open lock and went to return it.
"So, how are you getting home?" Silver asked Octavia, the friendly smile returning.
"Well, I was planning on having the captain walk me home. I honestly have no idea where I am at the moment," Octavia replied, looking out the window at the moonlit road outside.
"I know these streets pretty well, you know. I could show you the way back if you'd like."
Octavia thought about that offer for a moment. But only for a moment. "Thank you. Shall we get going, then?"
"Can you wait just another minute?" Silver asked as she held up a hoof.
Octavia nodded then watched as Silver trotted over to the end cell. She rose onto her hind legs and slid her forelegs through the bars, resting on the cell door's lock as if an old friend talking to an inmate.
"She's mending bridges." The calm voice of the pony behind her made Octavia jump. This got a laugh from Clipper, who had snuck up behind the musician.
Octavia regained her composure quickly, though, managing a calm "What?"
"She's mending bridges," Clipper repeated. "Silver is a true warrior of the old times. She may seem harsh and cruel to her opponents, enjoying their pain," he emphasized the last comment, "but she'll also show an amount of honor and respect, no matter what is said. Believe it or not, no psychologist she's ever seen has told her to do this. She just does it naturally; after she's cooled off, of course." The orange pegasus chuckled through the last part. Clipper picked up the evidence bag from the desk next to him and started towards the door. "Come on, we can get started out. Silver will catch up."
Octavia nodded, following the orange pegasus to the end of the office before stopping. Looking at the silver pegasus she noticed Silver had a warm smile, the kind she'd given Octavia not five minutes earlier. The four colts also seemed to be more relaxed, despite being in a concrete cell, and were talking with Silver as if they'd known her for years.
"Clipper?"
"Yes, Octavia?"
Octavia looked at the colt's bright green eyes. He's quite close, she thought as she took a step back.
"Can we wait for her?"
Clipper nodded. "Boss won't be happy, but he never really is anyway."
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Silver walked along the roads with a smile, guiding Octavia back the way they'd came. The streets were as empty as before, but Silver's ears were still on alert. It wasn't just ponies that graced these marvels of stone and pavement. Some very bad things also liked to hide in the very few abandoned buildings on this end of town.
Clipper, on the other hoof, was completely oblivious to the dark, foreboding streets and buildings. He flew happily along, the bag holding the remnants of Silver's glasses dangling from his neck. He'd scavenged a piece of string from his cousin's desk at the station while Silver was chatting with the colts and had thread it through a hole he'd made in the bag. Silver wanted to carry them, but Clipper insisted on handling it.
"If you carry them and get into a fight, you could really lose them," he'd argued.
Silver had just conceded. She wasn't in the mood to argue with the stubborn pegasus. Although, thanks to her chat with Octavia, her mood had greatly improved. She'd 'cooled off,' as Clipper had put it, rather fast compared to most situations she'd been in. Silver figured it was because she had been talking with a calm, collected, and sane pony instead of with Clipper, who wasn't the first two. Silver was still debating on the third, but she gave him some benefit of the doubt.
The sound of buzzing announced to Silver that they had finally reached the part of the city with streetlamps. With lightning bugs. That were still buzzing and giving Silver a hard time. Really wish they'd just go solar-powered lighting already, Silver whined inside her head.
"...And that is how you resize a photo for a newspaper's front page!" Clipper's voice invaded Silver's head as her mind's sound filters were released.
"Fascinating, if not exceedingly detailed," Octavia said.
"He'll do that," Silver stated with a smile. "Pictures are his thing. Everything he learned he did hooves-on. I'm honestly surprised he hasn't made chief photographer of a paper yet." Silver's smile became sarcastic as she turned to look at Clipper.
"Yeah, really funny, Silver," Clipper replied, moving to hover in front of the other two. "The reason I'm not top of my media is because it's an under appreciated art! It takes no talent to just slap a picture on a piece of paper, but to make it flow and fit within that paper, to make it one with the image and the story that image tells, that's true talent."
Silver just smiled. Her friend's passion for his 'art' was never lost on her, though she wished he didn't always have to explain it in perfect detail.
They had just turned the final corner onto the street that Spectrum was on when a voice rang in Silver's ears. "Silver, just the mare I wanted to see!" It was piercing, though not entirely painful. It was like the voice of a stereotypic mob boss, only an octave up and off-key. The colt that had said it walked up, his light brown coat in neat fashion under his black tuxedo. The colt's dark brown mane was perfectly trimmed and neat, directly under his black bowler hat. "I want to thank you so much for finding a perfect replacement DJ!" he said as he grabbed Silver's hoof in his own, shaking it violently.
"I'm sorry, what?" Silver really hoped she hadn't heard the word she'd heard Li'l Boss say.
"Your replacement! She's perfect! I have to say, you have an ear for talent. Hopefully you'll remember me when you make it big! Until then, it's been a great pleasure working with you! May you have many years of joy and fame." The colt concluded his sentence with what sounded like honesty, but Silver could tell differently. He then turned off and walked back into the club he'd come out of. Silver looked up at the sign, the realization hitting her. I just got fired, she thought as she looked at Spectrum Mane's rainbow-colored sign.
"Woah, woah! Did that guy just do what I think he did?" Clipper asked as he alighted on the ground in front of Silver. "Who the buck does he think he is? You don't just dump your prize DJ on the street! Oh, when I'm done with him, he'll--" The angry orange pegasus started to walk angrily at the door that Boss had disappeared into, but Silver grabbed his tail in her mouth, ignoring the horrid skunk-like taste, holding him in place. Clipper's voice positively dripped with hatred and venom, "Silver, please let me go so I can--"
"No, Clipper. It's not worth it," Silver stated plainly after letting his tail go, turning to walk off to home.
"Not worth it?" Clipper's voice rang out over the entire street. "Silver, this is your passion! It's who you are!"
"So were those," Silver said, looking at the shards of glass still around Clipper's neck.
"Silver!"
But Silver was already gone off down a side street, running as she'd done when things got hard for her. Running harder now that her life was shattered, the pieces hanging around the neck of a pegasus. She had to run. No answer worked here, running was her only option. It had been her only option every time a chapter of her life ended like this. In final ruin, in complete devastation. This time, though, she didn't have that symbol of her confidence to fall back on. She only had the darkness.
So she ran. And kept running.
A/N: Okay, that final section was NOT supposed to happen!
I lost my mind and started typing. What the hay, Boss?!
That out of the way, I wanted to put up front that working with a preexisting personality (Octavia) is difficult for me, so please don't shoot me if she doesn't match what you thought of her!
I'm also going to say the same for Vinyl later on, as once again I'm working with a preexisting personality in the fandom and that's difficult for me to stick to.
As always: Criticize anything here, so long as it's constructive.