//------------------------------// // Spotlight // Story: Entangled Pathways // by Storm butt //------------------------------// “Yer plannin’ on livin’ together?” Applejack asked. Soarin didn’t like the sound of tone in her voice. It had been a long day, a very long day indeed. It felt as though years had passed since he had woken up, and his mind was scattering to still pick up the pieces. If he were in a better mood or even mindset he might have tried to at least fake a smile, but right now his facade which he had been trying to keep around Braeburn was cracking at those simple words. It was a tone that sat uncomfortably within him, and judging by the way Braeburn’s body tensed he wasn’t the only one. The carriage moved along slowly, and it had been filled with long, uncomfortable silences. Braeburn was the only one largely trying to break them, and even through his effort his nerves were beginning to get the better of him. With both Soarin and Applejack constantly replying with one to two word answers he seemed to look more and more defeated by the second. He was trying to keep the spirits up of both his lover and his cousin the best he could, but that question shot them out of the water. Braeburn’s mouth was open, and Soarin didn’t even remember him bringing that up. He had been focused on something else that zapped away in a cloud of dust fast the moment the orange mare spoke. There was something condescending in her tone that Soarin didn’t enjoy. Something that made him bite his tongue and tighten the muscles in his upper leg. He saw out of the corner of his eye Braeburn touch the center of his chest where the scars of his recent past lay, and a frown crossed his face. “Ah don’t…” The yellow earth pony tried to say something, but when he opened his mouth it went dry. Soarin recognized that behavior, he had seen it before just a year prior. The kind of Braeburn that hadn’t been reflected when they were alone, but the kind of Braeburn that was trying to keep on a mask. “Ah mean A-” “Is that a problem?” Soarin asked in a loud, disgruntled sort of sigh. He felt Braeburn hesitantly touch his hoof, and then pull it away once Applejack’s eyes flickered to the spot. He was chuckling, and quietly at that. “Soar…” Braeburn mumbled, seemingly just a bit irritated by the fact that Soarin had butted in in such a confrontational manner. He had this sudden glare that might not have looked like a pout if he could pull off just a slightly more menacing look. The carriage bumped, and Applejack looked down to her hooves. She reached up her hoof and scratched the side of her face against her freckles and seemed to chew the inside of her lip as if trying to decide what to say next. Soarin lessened his glare, but kept his eyes locked on hers. “Ah was just thinkin’ bout when me and Brae were kids is all,” Applejack shrugged and took off her hat to turn it slowly in her hooves. The wind ran against her slightly greasy mane that she had neglected to brush and a hint of a smile touched her lips. “Brae HATED comin’ up if the reunion wasn’t at his place, didn’t ya?” “I don’t really remember,” Braeburn shrugged, a sense of uncomfortableness edging into his tone. He grabbed his leg with his free hoof and squeezed. “Ah guess Ah ain’t ever really been the movey big life kinda pony… Ah… trust Soarin, though.” “I don’t think movey is a word.” Soarin mumbled. Braeburn jabbed a hoof gently into his side and that was the first thing in a while to actually make him chuckle, especially when Braeburn hissed a sudden “hush!” to him. There was a moment where Braeburn chuckled back and grabbed at Soarin’s arm. He might have leaned on Soarin or kissed his cheek had Applejack not been right there, but Soarin grabbed his hoof and held it in place until Braeburn at the very least was able to hold his leg and not sheepishly pull away. “Ah’m probably bein’ over protective or some junk,” Applejack sighed and rubbed at one of her temples just as she readjusted her hat. “Heck bein’ round a lil’ tornado like Applebloom’ll do that to ya. Ah just can’t really see any Apple bein’ the big city kinda folk.” “No, you’re right,” Braeburn mumbled. Something about the way Braeburn said that, his words trailing off and getting quieter with every syllable made something in Soarin’s chest turn. He was just about to open his mouth and ask what Braeburn meant, despite the fact that he could probably see it for himself if he thought hard enough, just as the carriage stopped. Soarin turned his head, and saw a small stadium in the distance. He could recall that this was one of their smaller shows, and as such it had to go to the outskirts of Canterlot. He could already see dozens of hoity-toity esque ponies on the seemingly spotless pathway gathering around and piling into the stadium entrance. They had gotten out of the carriage in the distance, so luckily nopony had actually spotted them quite yet. It was a reason why Soarin chose not to wear his uniform quite yet, as he knew just bringing Braeburn here might cause a ruckus. He had to bite his tongue and remind himself that Braeburn was probably just as recognizable as he was right now thanks to that newspaper article. “That’ll be ten bits!” The driver, a large brown stallion, barked. He had a piece of wheat between his teeth and a crooked kind of smile. Soarin paid him quickly by flying straight upward out of the carriage and landing beside him, counting out the bits as he watched from the corner of his eye Applejack hop from the carriage and land gracefully onto the pavement. Soarin fluttered back to the carriage and opened the door for Braeburn, reaching out his hoof for the earth pony to take. “Your leg holding up alright, Brae?” Soarin asked. “Geez, don’t be such a worrywart, Soar,” Braeburn rolled his eyes, but Soarin saw he was rubbing his leg right before he took Soarin’s hoof. “Soon as you stop being such a dork,” Soarin said with a smirk on his lips. When he brought Braeburn down gently onto the pavement he snuck a kiss on the pony’s yellow cheek and felt him both squirm and yelp in a surprised giggle. It was genuine, and happy, right before he realized Applejack was watching the two of them and he removed his hoof from Soarin’s own. When their eyes met his smile didn’t reach them. “That’s a lot of ponies,” Braeburn mumbled nervously and took a step forward past Soarin to stare at the crowd. His tail swished a bit forcefully as if trying to flick off his nerves, and Soarin saw him lean onto his better leg. He touched his chest once again right on the scars. “Ah’m feelin’ a bit underdressed… or raggedy, dunno which word.” It was true, most of the ponies around here were from Canterlot, therefore they were dressed nicely with properly groomed hair. Braeburn’s mane was long and soft, but certainly not tidy. And his vest and hat gave the slightest hint that he was a bit below the social class around here. He frowned, and grumbled something quietly under his breath. “You look fine.” “Ain’t you goin’ in late gonna cause a ruckus?” Applejack asked, interrupting Soarin’s train of thought. Braeburn stopped staring at his outfit and looked to the mare as well. “Weeeeeeeeeeeellll,” Soarin drug out the ‘e’ when he spoke so it sounded like a long “eeeeeh” noise and snatched Braeburn’s hat from on top of his head and plopped it down on his own. “Hey!” Braeburn complained, but Soarin pressed the hat firmly to his head. “Random sighting from a civilian aside, these places always have back doors for the VIP guests. And luckily for you a very sexy pegasus got you two tickets, remember?” Soarin held up two slips of paper and kissed the back of one of them before handing one to either pony. Applejack rolled her eyes and Braeburn smiled a little. “Yeah yeah, let’s get a move on,” Applejack hollered a bit impatiently just when Soarin pointed the direction to go and was already walking. “I wanna get good seats!” “Don’t think she knows what VIP seating means.,” Soarin whispered into Braeburn’s ear right before snatching his hoof and dragging him along. He was rewarded with a giggle, and together they walked with Applejack in the lead in a bit of a roundabout way to the backside of the stadium where not many ponies lingered except those who were smoking and those who were trying to sell tickets. Soarin kept his head down and extended his wings to hide his cutie-mark as he had done a hundred times before when it drew close to a show. Only now he had a particularly good reason to want to keep hidden. He wanted Braeburn to like this life. The life of big shows and lights and the crowd cheering and constant noise. The rush of excitement and adoration for the sport was something that Braeburn being an earth pony could never truly know, but he wanted Braeburn to enjoy it. It was… his new life, after all. Soarin chose not to say that out loud. The words made him feel possessive in a way that sat uncomfortably on his tongue when he considered it. He had to remind himself that this wasn’t exactly a choice for Braeburn. The scars on Braeburn proved that, and he told himself this fact again and again. He didn’t just want Braeburn to like the life he was forced into, he needed it. Soarin found himself squeezing Braeburn’s hoof when they approached a few large ponies in sunglasses by a small back entrance. A few ponies were loitering around, but none seemed to have a ticket. Soarin shook the thought and stepped forward in front of Applejack. “Well hello, cutie,” Soarin raised one of his eyebrows and reached out his hoof to touch the guard’s chest. “Could you let a lil’ old pegasus and his friends in, I’ll do you a huge fav-” “Go on in, Soarin,” The guard collected both Applejack and Braeburn’s tickets as the two passed him and Soarin sighed loudly. “He never lets me finish that…” “Mind not flirtin’ in front of yer… er… boyfriend?” Braeburn chuckled and nodded for Soarin to follow. It was hesitant and a bit nervous, but he actually did use the ‘B’ word in a somewhat public setting. Soarin complied, though didn’t do so without rolling his eyes. He trotted forward and bumped playfully into Braeburn’s side. Braeburn bumped back, or at least he would have if the moment they entered the stadium a loud echo wasn’t apparently obvious. It was the roar of at least a few thousand ponies. Braeburn’s muscles tensed, and it was clear he was chewing on the inside of his lip by the way he suddenly stared down to his hooves. “Yikes, pretty loud place,” Braeburn mumbled. He might have been trying to shoot for something that sounded joking, but the way his breath caught in his throat was what caught Soarin’s attention. He smiled, but once more it refused to meet up with his eyes. “Think ya can make it up all these stairs?” “Huh?” Braeburn looked up to Applejack, who was already halfway up the first flight of stairs. Soarin saw Braeburn lean onto his good leg once more, and for a moment the noise and thought of a large crowd was replaced with worry for his actual ability to face said crowd. He nodded his head, albeit hesitantly. “Y-Yeah… If Ah go slow, Ah guess.” “I can carry you if you want. I’m a lot stronger than I look,” Soarin half teased, half offered. He felt his stomach twist a bit when Braeburn rolled his eyes and took it as a complete joke. He didn’t want Braeburn’s first show to start with crippling pain. It was more than likely not going to be a good introduction to convince him to like his new life. “Ya don’t gotta baby me,” Braeburn tried to say confidently, but it came out as more of a mumble. Braeburn took it slow, Applejack always a few steps ahead and Soarin right by Braeburn’s side. It was a different experience from the physical therapy that had helped him walk once more in the first place, as his eyes did not sting from tears and at worst he had to stop every once in awhile to catch his breath. He had a problem with holding it, and let out large gasps when his lungs begged enough. Only a few ponies were passing by this point, mostly going down the stairs as it was so close to showtime. Soarin pushed away the thought of Spitfire chewing him out for being so late and probably issuing him some sort of punishment despite the circumstances and tried to focus on Braeburn. The crowd roared again. Soarin was guessing that some sort of pre-game event was going on. Usually it was a sign for him to bluntly get his ass into gear and start running, but again he stared at Braeburn. “Hey, Brae?” Soarin asked when he saw they were about halfway up the staircase. Braeburn’s cheeks were pink now, not from blush but from effort. Applejack was keeping her mouth shut, but she occasionally looked back to the two. “The crowd ain’t so bad, if that’s what you’re thinking. Especially in the VIP area. Most of the ponies are usually rich and snooty and don’t talk to each other. Plus it’s way less crowded.” “Ya don’t gotta sell me,” Braeburn said in a slightly sarcastic tone between a grunt and three more steps. “Ah’m here, aren’t Ah?” Soarin wanted to ask one thing, and that was, “Is it because you want to be or because you have to be?” The seed of doubt that Applejack had planted in his mind was growing roots. He was trying his best to rip them free when he kissed Braeburn’s cheek lightly and put on his most convincing smile. “I was serious about carrying you, y’know,” Soarin tried not to chuckle too much as if fearful that it would come off as insincere. “I mean, you’re gonna rob me of the chance on showing off to both you and your cousin how strong I am?” “Ah ain’t gonna rely on ya for everythin’, Soar,” Braeburn looked to Soarin with a suddenly serious expression. “If Ah can’t do this on my own Ah wanna at least do it with ya helpin’ me, not doin’ the work fer me.” “R-Right,” Soarin touched Braeburn’s hoof and helped him up a few more steps. He tried not to focus on the fact that his tone trembled. Mostly because he was fearful of asking why it trembled. He pushed his worries aside and again, tried to fake it with a smile. “I’ll be right here, alright?” Soarin removed the hat he had previously taken from Braeburn and placed it on top of his lover’s head. Braeburn’s eyes peaked out from underneath and this time his smile reached them. They were nearing the top by this point, and Soarin felt his grip involuntarily loosen on Braeburn’s hoof for a reason he couldn’t quite yet pinpoint. It was growing louder the closer they got, and Applejack was already waiting at the top of the stairs holding half of the wide double doors open to a wide open area where Soarin could see the stadium and all the ponies meld together in the distance into a colorful blur. “Geez,” Braeburn mumbled at the sight of them all. “Ain’t that a real picking?” “You made it,” Soarin chuckled, and then briefly pecked Braeburn on the lips. Braeburn kissed back just a bit before gingerly pulling away right before walking into the VIP section. It was an open area with a concrete floor and the smell of food and alcohol in the air. Soarin felt his throat go particularly parched when out of the corner of his eye when he saw a mug of cider in the hooves of a unicorn who passed. “Ya gonna kiss me every time I go up a few stairs?” Braeburn asked a bit teasingly. “Ah might start torturin’ myself more often.” “Ah think Soarin’s personality is rubbin’ off on ya, Brae,” Applejack chuckled as she looked around the wide open area. “Yeash, Rainbow never got me seats like this. Ah think Ah might buy ‘bout fifty of whatever smells so gosh darn good!” “Knock yourself out,” Soarin said and looked to the stadium. His gut sank when he realized the opening performance was drawing to a close, and in less than twenty minutes he would need to go out on stage. The crowd’s cheers were so loud he could barely hear himself think just as Applejack and Braeburn were taking in the surroundings. If a Wonderbolt or Celestia forbid Spitfire saw him without his uniform on this close to showtime he would more than likely be appearing in the paper as a newly murdered celebrity rather than a hot gossip topic. “Aw horse apples,” Soarin grumbled and looked around. He opened his mouth and then closed it and drug his hoof impatiently against the concrete trying to come up with some sort of plan on what exactly to do with Braeburn. “Something up?” Braeburn asked. “Nothing, just… I gotta leave soon and you still have to find a place to sit,” Soarin grabbed Braeburn’s hoof and tugged on it, but the earth pony didn’t budge. “C’mon, I can make it if we hurry. Just don’t put too much pressure on your leg.” “Ya should just go,” Braeburn said and took his hoof from Soarin’s. He was laughing in a kind of way that made Soarin think he was being mocked. “Don’t get yer matters all mixed up, Ah got AJ, Ah don’t need ya for everythin’” “Yeah, you should go get changed or something,” Applejack nodded and stared out into the stadium. “I’ll make sure Braeburn gets plenty good seats to watch ya do yer fancy schmancy flyin’ tricks.” “But…” For some reason Soarin felt a sink in his gut. He felt impatient, and had the need to not only start moving, but start running. Something about the way Braeburn squeezed his hoof reassuringly felt wrong and out of place. He couldn’t help but think it was normally his place to do that, to be the one to reassure Braeburn. “I’ll be fine, Soar,” Braeburn leaned forward and pecked Soarin’s cheek, albeit quickly and hesitantly. “Ah really don’t need ya fer this, Ah just wanna see ya fly, alright?” “Y-Yeah,” Soarin nodded his head. There it was again, the stutter he didn’t want to think about. Just as he took a step back and met Braeburn’s eyes he felt his gut clench. He nodded again dumbly and then kissed Braeburn’s lips, but felt his own feel rougher and more tense than usual. “Love you,” Soarin said quickly before getting another nod telling him it was fine to leave. Braeburn’s smile, that reassuring one that made him feel funny. Soarin bumped into a pony when he began to walk, but didn’t apologize. He felt his gut turn again when he rushed, looking behind his shoulder only once to see Braeburn had already turned away from him and was now talking to Applejack. He couldn’t hear them over the crowd’s noise. It wasn’t just what Braeburn said that had made him feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was because it was in front of Applejack, but Braeburn had been trying to act stronger. As Soarin rushed his way trying to find the locker room where his uniform lay he couldn’t help but retrace the memories in his head. Braeburn wasn’t leaning on him as willingly. He paused, just outside the locker room, and laid a hoof on his belly. The feeling in his chest bubbled like an unsettled pot, and he found himself swallowing because his throat felt dry. Soarin didn’t just want Braeburn to need him, he wanted Braeburn to depend on him.