//------------------------------// // Painkiller (final) // Story: Somepony who loves you // by Nonagon //------------------------------// Painkiller (final) A Somepony who loves you Story Cheerilee felt the hospital long before she saw it. After an uneventful trek across the town's undeveloped western edge, she crossed the river back into Ponyville to take the final stretch up the more familiar roads. Before long the remaining houses began to thin out, ending in half-finished construction projects before leaving nothing in between the teacher and the building on the distant hill. Even at this distance, the sheer presence of the hospital was staggering. Set between rising hills a short distance away from town, it stood grim and blackened even against the dark sky, as though the moonlight had been sucked from the air around it. A reluctant closer look revealed that this wasn’t just a trick of the light; a colossal sphere of shadow the same shape as a unicorn’s force field surrounded it, stretching more than double the length of the building in every direction. While over the rest of town the clouds had drifted or been carried away, here they congregated by some unseen force, further blackening the exterior. There was no trace of life visible on the hospital grounds, moving or otherwise. All was still and silent. Cheerilee halted at the very edge of Ponyville, gulping. She stared at the hospital, doing her best to shake off the feeling that it was staring back. This is it, she thought. All I need is inside there. Just a little further, and this can all be over. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to pick up her hooves and carry on walking. There had been a great deal of whispering in the library about what had ultimately become of the hospital. While she’d made a point of putting the place out of her mind, Cheerilee hadn’t been able to help hearing the word “overrun” more than once. Coming up from the front, it was difficult to tell if that was the case. But as she crept closer and closer and more details came into view, it became clear that something terrible had happened here. While most of the doors and windows seemed intact, near the middle of the building, high above the main entrance, it looked as though the top two floors and part of the roof had caved in. A roughly circular gap exposed the hospital’s innards to the elements, filled with a darkness so black that even the limited moonlight couldn’t penetrate it. The walls around it were cracked, the windows shattered, as though the building had been struck by something moving at high speed. Cheerilee ignored this and worked on her plan, limited as it was, as she trudged up the path to the hospital at her same tired, silent pace. She'd visited Ponyville General twice before, once for an emergency, the other time for a medical concern that had turned out to be nothing, so she had a basic idea of the layout. The storeroom was somewhere in the back of the west wing, easily accessible in case of emergencies. There wasn’t a single locked door in the entire building. Once she got in, even if she couldn't find a light source right away, she could probably feel her way to the room by intuition alone. She checked that she still remembered the name of her prescription down to the letter; it was still there. All she had to do was get inside. Simple as that. The air was clean. Cheerilee took a few deep breaths as the hospital got closer and closer. She braced herself for any hint of sweetness, or the rank stench of decay. There was nothing. There wasn't even the artificial, antiseptic cleanliness that usually hung around hospitals; everything was pure and cold. Cheerilee slowed down when she reached the shadow. The wall of darkness cut directly across her path, fading immediately from bright moonlight on the outside to dim blackness underneath. There was no clear barrier as she might have expected from a shield, only a rapid fade into darkness. Right at the edge she halted, her instincts clashing with her need to move forward. Helplessly she looked ahead. The hospital loomed. She stood still for what she’d intended as just a pause to catch her breath, but was quickly turning into something far longer. Her gaze felt like it was being sucked into the blackness at the sphere’s center, at once drawing her in and warning her to flee. Time crawled over her, a subtle awareness that she was wasting her chance, but her hooves wouldn't budge. The darkness beckoned. She stared. It all came down to this. There was no turning back; there was no other option. Hidden somewhere within that mass was the one thing that would stop the screams from returning to the schoolhouse ever again. Her students’ happiness — their lives — depended on her going through with this. Nothing was more important to her. No cost was too high. No danger was too great. There was absolutely nothing, nothing that could keep her from keeping her little ponies safe. And yet... The last time she'd walked in shadow had been the rush from the library. That was when things were supposed to start getting better; the plan was coming together, the caravan was forming, and everything was going to be okay. Any immediate danger had been led away by a group of ponies nopony expected to ever see again, a charge led by an earth pony with a fire in her eyes who had screamed so loudly and so fiercely on her way out that she made all that had come before sound like a whisper. And then there had just been silence, and then hoofsteps, and the parting of the ways. Cheerilee looked to her right, stretching over her shoulder to glance around, and then to her left. Ponyville stretched away behind her, leading away into dark forest and mountainous foothills. There was nopony else. She was completely alone. The moonlight bathed everything but the path ahead in a soft glow. They’d agreed that the library was no longer safe, especially for foals; the air was thick with smoke, full of Celestia-knows-what. It had been her responsibility to keep the foals safe while they’d made their escape, first to the schoolhouse, then onwards to Hoofington. And she’d done so well, at first. There had been so many foals with her then. She'd worried that they would make noise if left unsupervised, that she couldn't possibly keep this many silent on their own. She needn't have worried. Not one opened their mouth the whole time. She began to shake. Keep it together, Cheerilee, she scolded herself. There's no reason to be afraid. They're depending on you not to be afraid. But even so, she found her trembling beginning to spread. Staying in the shadows had seemed so logical. She'd tried to make it into a game. Like hide and seek, she'd called it. They'd darted from house to house, like little mice — she kept a grin on her face all the while, determined that nothing would keep her spirits down, that nothing would ever keep her from spreading joy. The streets had been completely empty. There had been no hint of any danger. Just running along, like foals at play, but not too quickly; not enough to make heavy hoofsteps, not enough to rattle the vile little container tucked into the thick folds of her mane. The dark hole loomed like a whiteless eye, staring down at her. The hospital’s wings were like arms reaching out towards her, the gaping door a mouth with broken and crooked teeth. Just a little further, Cheerilee told herself. Just a few more steps, and this can all be over. She didn't move. A tiny hoof had brushed against her leg, a tiny set of eyes quivering in the darkness. She'd leaned down, expecting to offer a whisper of reassurance, and a tiny voice had made her heart stop. "Where's Rumble?" Just forget it, she commanded. Her eyes were shut. It's in the past. It doesn’t have to be that way. This is what you need. This is what you need. A head count in the darkness, panic rising again — every second spent standing was another they might be discovered. She’d moved back through her little ponies, trying to discern faces within the shadows, becoming more and more aware of her own hoofsteps. One pony short. She’d nudged her way out of the mass, commanding them to stay where they were, and without a thought, acting only on impulse, rushed back into the darkness the way they’d come. It wasn’t your fault, she told herself. Her shaking was getting worse and worse. Please, not now. Don’t make me relive this. Not now. She’d tripped. Just two houses away, her hoof had met something in the darkness and she’d fallen, her haste causing her to overbalance and land heavily on the ground. She’d almost cried out, expecting the worst, but had held her breath and counted down from five before opening her eyes. She’d looked behind her, fear dissipating. Please... She was crying. I can’t... A young pegasus lay limply in the road. Her hind legs now lay sprawled across his. His wings jutted out, one of them at a crooked angle. And as she moved to lift herself up, his head turned towards her. She looked into his eyes. And she saw the drop of red running down between them. And then... Foolish, so foolish... ...she’d been the one who’d screamed. Cheerilee opened her eyes. The dark abyss in front of her was blurred, at once soothing and mocking her. Her breath came in gasps, and her legs shook violently; it was only sheer will that was keeping her upright. I can’t, she thought, choking out words between internal sobs. I can’t do this... And I can’t go back... More minutes crawled by as Cheerilee did her best to calm herself. She clenched her mouth shut and took the deepest breaths she could, holding back the hatred and self-pity that was threatening to crush her. She knew that ahead of her lay the only thing capable of keeping her stable; if she could make it back with that, neither she nor anypony else would ever have to feel this way again. But she also knew that if she crossed that line, if she took one more step and walked into the darkness once again, there was a good chance that she would never make it back at all. Maybe I can just call this a trial run, she tried. I have another day left, two if I don’t sleep. I can go back, and figure something out, and come back when I’m feeling better... Moving very slightly, she shook her head. No, I can’t. We’ll need food by then. And... She thought about the advice she might have given one of her students in the same situation. And putting it off won’t help anything. Nothing’s going to change. It has to be now, or never at all. The shadows beckoned. She steeled herself as much as she could. She took one deep, final breath and cleared her mind, thinking only of her students. She thought of the looks on their faces when they smiled at her. She thought of the feel of their bodies when she held them. Follow your heart, they told her, just like she’d told them so many times before. Do what you know is right. Cheerilee lifted her hoof. She breathed out. She turned and walked away. --- Perhaps it was just in her head, but the moon seemed to shine brighter than it had before. Cheerilee had expected the walk home to be a guilt-ridden torture. Empty-hooved as she retraced her own steps, she stared down at the ground in front of her, waiting for the cold accusations to wrap themselves around her. Somehow, they just didn’t come. She’d mustered all the guilt she could at the edge of the darkness, and the darkness had consumed it, just like it had consumed everything else. All the pain and despair that she’d been holding onto for the past few months had been left behind. She strode onwards without fear and without regret, for the first time since this had begun, finally feeling free. Without the pills the nightmares will return, she cautioned, but this no longer seemed to hold as much weight as it had previously. And we’ll face them together. Slowly she began to straighten up, looking ahead and around instead of down. No more sleeping alone. We’ll all stay together, one big slumber party. We’ll play and learn throughout the day and tell stories until we fall asleep. And if one of us has a bad dream... Her heart soared. Then we’ll all wake up and deal with it together. We’ll talk about how scary it was, and then we’ll talk about the good dreams we’ve had before, and then we’ll laugh and all go peacefully back to sleep... The more Cheerilee thought, and the more she reassured herself, the better and brighter her plan seemed to get. She smiled up at the darkened sky, letting the moon and stars bathe her in their light. She barely noticed as she sped up from a crawl to a walk, and even to a light trot. For the first time in a long time her hoofsteps reached her ears, and to her surprise the sound delighted her. Looking around, she felt no sense of danger from the hills around her. All was just as it should be. Everything’s going to be okay. I just know it. It was only when she began to approach Sweet Apple Acres that Cheerilee slowed down to her usual speed. Some of her old worry flashed across her as she began to ascend the hill towards the farm, though not nearly enough to bring down her newfound cheer. Maybe I shouldn’t go this way, she thought as she followed the indentations of her tracks up the winding path. Going back to the river would be faster, and there’s no need... This thought never reached its conclusion. Cheerilee came to a halt as she stared up the long road to the farm. From this direction, she could see Sweet Apple Acres’ main entrance from much further away. Among the blackening trees she could see the shape of the new, twisted fence as it cut sharply across the orchard, enveloping a much smaller portion of the farm in safety. And at the front, the gate now hung open. Cheerilee’s lips moved soundlessly. Her eyes widened and she sprang forward, then quickly restrained herself and proceeded at a safer pace. Her heart beat faster and faster as she made her way across the curves of the hills, keeping her eyes fixed on the gate in front of her. There was no movement that she could see, nothing heading in or out. She hurried as fast as she dared, silently begging for somepony to be alive when she arrived. It was ten tense minutes before Cheerilee reached the front gate. She slowed further as she got close, peering cautiously forward. The area in front of the gate looked as though it had been swept clean; the lumps of meat had vanished, without even a drop of pink to show that they had ever been there. Half of the gate had been opened inwards, gouging deep marks into the ground in the process, while the other half seemed to be locked in place. The resulting gap was about wide enough to drive a cart through, though Cheerilee couldn’t see any tracks leading in or out. The path inside looked no different than the path she was on now. The teacher gulped. She approached the gate and stuck her head through nervously, looking back and forth for any sign of danger. There was nothing. She crept inside, slowing to her familiar soundless crawl as the last of her hooves entered the farm. All around, there was nothing but silence. Traversing the interior of Sweet Apple Acres was no different than walking the outside. Here the apple trees seemed a little more well-tended, and most of them were free of the fruits that were gradually fermenting outside the border. The orchard now surrounded Cheerilee on both sides, and often as she told herself that nothing was there, walking amidst cover that a watcher might be hiding behind never ceased to unnerve her. She kept up her cautious pace, periodically glancing from side to side until she finally came upon the Apple family’s home. The farmhouse looked like it was in rough shape. Sections of the upper floor had been broken or removed, probably to provide emergency repairs to the new fence. The surrounding area seemed similarly stripped clean. The front door had a large chain bolted across it, but circling to the side, Cheerilee noticed that the large barn doors hung slightly open. A shape around the next corner caught her eye as she approached, and she strayed a little further to look around the back of the house. Against the far wall seven short sticks had been planted in the ground, spaced even distances apart. The barn door creaked loudly as Cheerilee pushed it open. She winced, but nothing more happened. Feeling brave, she loudly whispered “Hello?” as she stuck her head inside, but got no response. A lantern hanging from a hook on the far wall had been left on, casting some illumination across the large room. Much of the barn was taken up by large piles of straw in varying states of disarray, each showing some use as a bed. Most of them had been smoothed down, but as Cheerilee made her way further inside, she noted that the ones furthest from the door were more disordered than the rest. Hope rose up in her again. Somepony had been sleeping here recently. The silence only seemed more pronounced as Cheerilee entered the house proper. She couldn’t help but gasp as she saw the state of the Apple family kitchen, and held her hoof over her mouth for several seconds. The once warm and welcoming room had been completely demolished, counters and tables torn away to expose iron pipes and stone foundations. “Hello?” she whispered again, raising her voice just a little. “Is anypony there?” There was still no answer. The surrounding rooms were similarly empty. Cheerilee almost couldn’t bear to look around, seeing this once lively home so ruthlessly torn apart. Gulping, she went to the stairs and started to climb. The steps creaked underneath her hooves, but she ignored them. The upper floor of the house felt significantly colder than the bottom. What greeted her at the top of the stairs was a doorway without a door leading into what had once been a bedroom. Further on was a long hallway, leading to two more doorways. One was similarly doorless, opening into another stripped and empty room. The other, however, was soundly closed. Cheerilee approached the closed door slowly. She tentatively raised her hoof to knock, but stopped herself. Feeling her trembling return, she grabbed the handle as gently as she could and pushed the door open. It was clear right away that this had been Apple Bloom’s room. Shining ribbons and a nightcap hung from hooks next to the door, and pictures of fillies at play lay on the floor where a desk might have previously stood. A former four-poster bed had been disassembled, leaving a splinter-covered mattress collapsed on half a torn rug. The far walls of the room were gone. From here the house opened up to the sky, leaving the remains of the ceiling sagging. At the farthest corner a purple unicorn sat facing away from Cheerilee, staring out at the stars above. There was no wind to disturb her as she perched calmly on the splintered ledge. To her left was a telescope, angled towards the moon. To her right was a small stuffed donkey, grey and ragged from age. Cheerilee’s breath caught in her throat. She spoke before she could stop herself. “Twilight.” Twilight Sparkle looked back at her. She didn’t look happy or sad at the teacher’s arrival, only worn down, as though she hadn’t slept in a very long time. “Hi, Cheerilee,” she said quietly. She stood up for only as long as it took for her to turn around, settling down again immediately afterwards. “How are you?” “I...” Cheerilee took a step forward. She was half-convinced that she was dreaming. “How did you get here? Where is everypony?” “They left.” For a moment, Twilight turned her head to look at the horizon. “Our food was running out. There was nothing more for them here. I’ll be going soon, too. I just came back to... get a few things.” With magic she picked up her stuffed doll and turned it around as well, nestling it closely against her side. “What about you? Did you make it to the schoolhouse?” Cheerilee froze. She gulped, but did her best to hide it. Twilight wasn’t looking directly at her. “Yes,” she said, conscious of her voice shaking. The whole story could wait. “We made it.” “Good,” Twilight said. “I’m glad.” She continued to look down at her doll. “Do you... still have the pills I gave you?” The teacher’s eyes narrowed. “I do,” she said. “All of them.” She started to raise her voice. “I never forgave you for giving them to me.” “I know,” Twilight said. “And I’m sorry.” A few moments passed in silence. Cheerilee started to walk forwards again, but stopped when Twilight spoke. “They did work, you know. I mean, technically. They did what they were supposed to.” She glanced up, but then immediately looked down again. “I figured out what went wrong,” she added after a pause. “We were looking for an infection. We made the medicine to seek out the cause of the sickness and destroy it. But we were wrong.” Silence fell again. Cheerilee waited for the mare to continue, but no answer seemed to be coming. She opened her mouth to break the silence, only for Twilight to interrupt her. “There is no infection,” she blurted. “Do you understand that?” She finally looked up into Cheerilee’s eyes. Twilight looked like she was trying to cry, but no tears would come. “There’s no transformation. There’s no evil force turning us into something we’re not. There isn’t a single thing in them that isn’t already in us. And the pills, they...” She bit her lip, choking back invisible tears. “They destroy whatever’s in us that gives them life. We didn’t... we didn’t just stop Lyra from turning into one of them. We destroyed her, from the inside out.” Twilight picked up her doll and wrapped her forelegs around it, cradling it close to her. She closed her eyes, still trying and failing to weep. “That’s why I gave one of the batches to you,” she finished quietly. “In case... in case there was no other way. Because they’re the only way you can know for sure that when you die... you won’t get up again afterwards.” Cheerilee breathed slowly. “Nopony blamed you,” she said. “Not once, not even for a second. What happened wasn’t ever your fault.” “I know.” Twilight sniffed. “And... thank you,” she said, opening her eyes. “For coming for me.” Cheerilee waited as Twilight gathered herself up. The mare magically folded her telescope until the whole thing was no bigger than a lunchbox, lifting it away from the house’s edge and placing it against the remaining wall. She held onto her doll for a little while longer before putting it down as well, sitting it neatly down on the ledge. Cheerilee waited for Twilight to join her near the door, but the unicorn stayed where she was. “Cheerilee,” Twilight said unexpectedly. “What are you living for?” “For my students,” Cheerilee answered without hesitating. “I see.” Twilight nodded. “And what are they living for?” Cheerilee couldn’t answer right away. She stared back blankly, her mind suddenly shutting down on her. “Promise me something,” Twilight said once it became clear that no response was forthcoming. “Don’t live for another pony. Don’t live for anything that can be taken away from you.” She spoke with absolute calmness. “Because it will. One way or another, the world will take the thing you’re living for away from you. And when it’s gone, no matter what you have left to rebuild your life with, you’ll feel like you have nothing. If you live for another pony, then your world will end when they do.” Involuntarily, Cheerilee shuddered. “Then what?” she asked, her voice sounding hollow, and she realized the question wasn’t rhetorical. “What am I supposed to live for?” Twilight gulped. “Cheerilee?” she asked. “Do you think that one day, things will get better and the world will go back to the way it was?” She paused, but continued before the teacher could answer. “Promise me you will. That’s what you need to live for. Even if you can’t do anything about it, you have to believe that things are going to get better. That’s the only thing that can keep you safe.” Cheerilee hesitated. Something vast and dark loomed in the back of her mind. “I...” “Cheerilee, promise me.” Slowly, Twilight stood up. Her legs were unsteady, as if she hadn’t walked in a while. One of her hooves slipped, and she almost toppled off the edge of the house. Cheerilee rushed forward and steadied her, catching her at the last second. “Promise me you won’t let go,” Twilight mumbled, as though nothing had happened. “Everything’s going to be okay. Promise me you’ll believe, Cheerilee. Don’t let that light fade. Promise me you won’t give up.” Cheerilee started to step back. Twilight embraced her, wrapping her forelegs around her in a vise-like grip. “Promise me.” The unicorn coughed. Something warm and wet dripped down Cheerilee’s back. “Cheerilee, promise me.” --- There was a loud scrape as Cheerilee drew back the lock on the schoolhouse. She kicked open the door and threw herself inside before slamming it shut, leaning against it and panting heavily. In seconds Diamond Tiara was prancing around her, apparently oblivious to her teacher’s state. “Miss Cheerilee, guess what?” the pink filly said, grinning with unrestrained glee. “Silver Spoon and I caught Snails and Twist kissing!” Cheerilee ignored her student, focusing on gasping for air until she’d gotten her breath back. By this point she’d almost dried off, but her mane and parts of her coat were still noticeably damp. Once her heart rate had returned to something approaching normal, she turned towards Diamond Tiara with the calmest expression she could muster. “Sweetie, get the others,” she said. The words stung her throat. “It’s time for bed.” “What? No it’s not.” Diamond Tiara frowned. “We haven’t even had lunch yet.” “Bedtime is when I say it is!” Cheerilee shouted. Diamond Tiara jumped back in fright, her confidence suddenly gone. From the further doorways, small faces peered cautiously out at her. Cheerilee took another deep breath, calming herself as much as she could. “Please,” she begged. “Just get your things. It’s time for sleep.” Nodding, the filly quickly crept away. Cheerilee pushed herself up and staggered past the classroom to her office, roughly shoving her door open. “One more night,” she mumbled to herself. “Just one more night.” As soon as she was inside, she stumbled over to her sink and retched. Nausea forced up spittle and a thin line of yellow liquid, but no more. Her insides were still burning from throwing up on her way back; it felt like there was nothing left inside of her but acid. She turned on the tap and lapped at the fast-flowing water, choking as it trickled down her searing throat. Once she'd managed to keep a whole mouthful down, she left the tap running and unsteadily swiveled towards the middle of the room. With a swipe, Cheerilee picked up the bottle on her desk and twisted the cap off, spilling the contents onto the hard surface. Nine white pills. She picked one up and threw it to the back of her mouth, swallowing hard. She choked painfully as it vanished down her throat. Every part of her trembling, she staggered to the sink and filled four glasses of water, only afterwards remembering to turn off the tap. Blearily, she took one of these for herself and drank some of it, swilling it around in her mouth. Without thinking, she picked up another pill and dropped it into the glass, then downed it in one gulp. She refilled the glass and put it back on a tray with the others. Shaking her head, Cheerilee reached over to the other side of her desk. She clumsily unlocked the drawer and pulled out the second bottle, ripping off its lid as well. A cluster of white pills dropped to the desk. They scattered, mingling with the other pills in front of her. She counted them, squinting to make out the different sizes, once, twice, six times. Six pills. Five pills. Six pills. They were still there. They were still safe. Momentarily satisfied, she reached behind her and picked up the tray of water. When she looked at the desk again, she paused. Cheerilee frowned, setting the tray down. Her eyes narrowed. One, two... how many pills was she meant to have? Thirteen pills. Thirteen little white shapes. Was that right? Maybe it wasn’t important. It was only one more night. Stifling a yawn, she reached down in front of her. Her hooves had stopped trembling. In fact, they felt numb. Feeling around carefully, she separated out four pills and dropped them into the four glasses, one by one. She knew them by their size and weight. She’d held them so many times before. Cheerilee picked up the tray again and put it next to the sink. She reached around for the pill bottles, but could only seem to find one. The one for her medication had vanished somewhere. She started to look around, sighing internally, but then stopped. She looked at her desk. Nine little white shapes stared back at her. Nine pills. Nine painkillers. Without thinking about what she was doing, she reached out a hoof and pushed them all into a little pile. She held up the pill bottle at the edge of the desk and carefully slid them inside. Everything She dropped the bottle on the floor. She wasn’t sure if it was intentional. is going Before she knew what she was doing, she reared up and stomped on the container as hard as she could. to be The bottle flexed, cracked, and shattered. Plastic made to look like glass dug into Cheerilee’s hoof, but didn’t cut her. The pills were turned to powder. She made a noise half sob and half scream, stomping again and again, driving the hateful little things out of her life once and for all. okay. From behind her, there was a knock. Cheerilee whirled around, snarling, then froze. Silver Spoon peered nervously through the open door. The teacher coughed. “What is it?” she asked, the anger only slowly fading from her face. “Miss Cheerilee?” Silver Spoon fidgeted. “Are you mad at us?” “What? No!” Cheerilee painfully wiped her hoof against the floor and then limped over to her student, falling to her knees in front of her. The pair of them could feel, rather than hear, the others listening in. “No, sweetie, I would never be mad at you. Why would you think that?” “Well...” Silver Spoon wouldn’t look at her. “You yelled at us, and you keep leaving...” She kicked at the ground. “And sometimes, we think... you’d be happier if you didn’t have to look after us.” Cheerilee paled. “No, sweetie, no.” She stretched out her front legs for a hug, but the filly didn’t come any closer. “Silver Spoon, please,” Cheerilee pleaded. Grudgingly, the grey filly stepped forward and allowed her teacher to embrace her, squeezing her like a stuffed doll. “All I want is for you to be happy,” she mumbled. “I tried so hard to keep you safe. I’ve done so many things wrong. But I’m going to make it up to you. And I promise, I promise, that from now on, things are going to get better.” The pair stayed that way for a full minute before Cheerilee let go of her student. She pulled away only slightly, letting Silver Spoon get a close look at her face: the bags under her eyes, the stains beneath her lips, the slight twitching in her left cheek. "Tomorrow, I'm going to take you outside," she said, feeling surprise at her own words. "There's a place nearby where you can see the sky and there's nopony around, not as far as you can see. You'll be able to run and play and stretch your legs instead of being cooped up in here all day. And that's not all," she babbled, trying to gauge Silver Spoon's reaction. As far as she could tell, the filly hadn't moved a muscle. "Once your strength's back, I'll show you the safe way to get to Sugarcube Corner. I'll teach you how to find your own food, and supplies, and how to explore without getting caught. You won't have to stay up waiting for me any more. You'll be able to make it on your own." She waited, breathing heavily, for Silver Spoon to make some kind of response. There was still nothing. “No more hiding,” Cheerilee promised. “No more waiting. No more bad dreams. Just give me one more night. Just one more time. Let me hold on to something. Then in the morning, when everything’s okay, we’ll start to build again. We’ll go back to the way things used to be.” Wordlessly, Silver Spoon pulled away and walked back into the classroom. Standing after that was an effort. With the closest she could manage to a deep breath, Cheerilee went back to the sink. A minute later, Cheerilee almost dropped her tray as she pushed open the classroom door. For some reason, she was having trouble balancing all of a sudden. She steadied herself at the last second, smiling as her students pulled their sheets further over themselves. “Together,” she slurred, gesturing vaguely towards the middle of the room. “No more staying apart. We all sleep together from now on.” As the foals hurried to arrange themselves, looking at one another in silent confusion, Cheerilee put her tray down. She pulled the blanket she was carrying off her back and added it to the growing jumble in the middle of the room, then picked up the first glass and carried it over to the makeshift bed. A tiny white pill was starting to dissolve at the bottom. The foal on the end shakily accepted the glass she was given, drinking it quickly and without complaint. “Goodnight, Silver Spoon,” Cheerilee whispered, kissing the filly on her forehead. She took the glass back and returned with a second, passing it to the second of her students. “Goodnight, Diamond Tiara.” Diamond Tiara hesitated before drinking, but the slightest shift in her teacher’s expression made her quickly gulp the water down. “Goodnight, miss Cheerilee,” she mumbled. For once, she gave no complaint when Cheerilee leaned forward and kissed her goodnight as well. Snails swallowed his pill as soon as Cheerilee gave it to him. “Goodnight, Snails,” Cheerilee said, kissing him just below his hairline. Snails said nothing. The final foal seemed reluctant to accept her drink. Cheerilee held her hoof as Twist raised the glass to her lips, but some compulsion stopped her from opening her mouth. After what felt like several minutes, Cheerilee put her head to the side as Twist lowered the glass. “Is something wrong, Twist?” “Mith Cheerilee...” Twist stared down at the pill floating in her glass. “I want you to have thith one.” She looked up at her teacher. “You need it more than I do.” Surprise broke through the haze surrounding Cheerilee’s mind. “But... aren’t you afraid of the nightmares?” she asked. “Well...” Twist looked down again, then shrugged. “They’re only dreamth, after all.” Gradually, a warm smile spread over Cheerilee’s face. “You’re braver than I’ll ever be,” she said. She leaned down and kissed Twist on the tip of her nose, then took the glass from her and held it up. “And I want you to know that I’m so very, very proud of you.” Sighing contentedly, she threw back her head and gulped down the pill. The world was beginning to swim in front of Cheerilee’s eyes. Instead of returning the last glass to its tray, she dropped it to the floor and let it roll away. Drowsily, she stepped around the ponies in front of her and slid into the middle of the tangle of sheets. The foals to her left and right were pressed against her sides, cold bodies slowly growing warm. “Goodnight, my little ponies,” she whispered. She felt something. “I lo