“That’s it, Vinyl, just a little further,” Octavia said, doing her best to keep up a smile.
If Vinyl heard the encouragement, she didn’t acknowledge it with anything more than a grunt. Soma had set Vinyl up in what she had affectionately referred to as a corral. The corral was two steel railings set twenty-four inches apart. A fabric harness was clipped onto the railings at four points.
The harness, which was dyed a navy blue color, was shaped to the contours of a pony’s body. It even had four holes for each leg and was sized appropriately for most mares and stallions. The clips that secured it to the railings were small metal hoops that allowed it to easily slide down the length of the corral.
The simple construction matched the utilitarian design of the room itself. The floors were simple maple floorboards, their finish dulled from years of traffic, the walls were a soothing powder blue color, and the back wall was lined by cabinets built into a low countertop. None of the cabinets were labeled, but Octavia had observed that none of the nurses, physicians, or therapists seemed to need a labeling system. Or at least, not in a small room like the one she and Vinyl were currently in.
Vinyl had been less than thrilled with the setup and Octavia had her own reservations about it. Still, Soma had insisted it would help teach Vinyl walk again. And so it had been that almost every day Soma and a pair of nurses would secure Vinyl in the harness. From that point, Vinyl on had one objective: to walk to the end of the corral where Octavia was waiting.
The harness had been initially adjusted to provide little resistance, meaning that Vinyl was able to slide from one end to the other with fairly little weight on her hooves. Every day, Soma had the harness adjusted to provide more and more of a challenge, and for a little more than three weeks things had gone well enough. Today, however, was proving different.
Vinyl was seemingly stuck less than a quarter of the way down the corral, even after half an hour of trying her hardest. Vinyl’s coat was matted in sweat and her legs all trembled uncontrollably. Her right rear leg shook the worst, seemingly ready to give out at any time. Vinyl’s left rear leg had been useless since the beginning. The limb didn’t so much as twitch, instead it merely dragged behind Vinyl as she tried to walk.
“Vinyl, why don’t we take a break?” Soma suggested, her attention focused on Vinyl’s rear legs.
“I’m fine,” Vinyl answered through clenched teeth, “I can do this.”
“You’ve been working for a while now, Vinyl,” Soma said, “lets get you off your hooves for a few minutes and get some food into you.”
“I don’t need any food!” Vinyl spat, her tone far harsher than she had intended.
Neither Soma nor Octavia were particularly surprised by the small outburst. The stress of therapy in addition to the many weeks she had accumulated in the hospital had eroded Vinyl’s patience to its limits. Octavia frowned, everyday it seemed like more and more of her Vinyl was slipping away.
“You didn’t have anything for breakfast, Vinyl,” Octavia said, “perhaps a little something would help.”
“I told you I’m—” Vinyl yelped, more in surprise than pain as her rear leg gave out. Her full weight settled into the harness, knocking the breath out of her, but otherwise leaving her unharmed.
Soma and Octavia were at her side almost instantly.
“Are you alright, Vinyl?” Octavia asked, her hoof gently running over Vinyl’s back.
“I could use a pain pill,” Vinyl answered.
“Sorry, Vinyl, but you had one before we started, and Dr. Poultice wants you to start weaning off of them. I’ll talk to the nurses to see when you can have another though, is that okay?” Soma said.
“… Sure,” Vinyl answered, her voice quiet and scratchy.
“Okay, Vinyl, let’s get you out of there for a while,” Soma said as she grabbed a wheelchair in her magic.
“I can keep going,” Vinyl insisted, though even she didn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth.
“We’ll try again later today,” Soma promised, “how are you feeling, Vinyl?”
Vinyl shrugged. “Fine, the legs are a little tired, I guess.”
Soma nodded. “Just tired, no stiffness, soreness, or pins and needles in your legs?”
“This one is kinda sore,” Vinyl said, tapping her right thigh with a hoof, “But I still can’t feel the other one.”
Soma made a gentle humming sound, her horn flaring to life and pulling a pencil from her saddlebag. “Vinyl, if you would be so kind as to close your eyes for me.”
Vinyl sighed even as she complied with the request. Soma poked the graphite tip several times against the flesh of Vinyl’s right thigh. She observed each subtle flinch that flickered over Vinyl’s face from the light prodding. Without a word, she switched the pencil to Vinyl’s left thigh and poked.
Observing no reaction, Soma frowned and rubbed her chin with a hoof. She repeated the process up and down Vinyl’s legs for several minutes before tucking the pencil back into her bag.
“Vinyl, can you feel me poking you?” Soma asked.
“I felt you poking my right leg,” Vinyl answered.
“And nothing in the left, not even a little tickle?” Soma asked again.
“No,” Vinyl said, the disappointment plain in her voice.
“I see. Thank you, Vinyl, you can open your eyes again.”
“Thanks,” Vinyl said, her magic pulling her glasses off her face so she could easily rub her eyes with her fetlock. “I’m never gonna get feeling back in that leg, am I?”
“Never say never, Vinyl,” Soma said with a hopeful smile.
“Please, don’t... just don’t. Just... just tell me the truth,” Vinyl pleaded.
Soma shot a concerned look to Octavia, who merely offered her a grim nod to proceed. Soma forced herself to keep a look of neutrality on her face, she hated giving patients bad news. She especially hated it when the patient in question was such a young pony, like Vinyl.
“Well, Vinyl, we’ve been doing these exercises for a little more than a month now, and I would expect that if you were to regain feeling and full use of the leg, you would have shown more sign of recovery by this point. The fact that you haven’t yet doesn’t mean you won’t at some point in the future, but—”
“What are my chances?” Vinyl interrupted.
“Beg pardon?” Soma asked, caught off guard by the question.
“What are my chances of getting my legs back like they used to be?” Vinyl asked.
Soma took a deliberate breath as she considered her words. “There’s a chance that in a few years you could be walking, running, and doing everything else you were able to before, but I’d say the most realistic outcome is that you will require some assistance in your day to day movements.”
“How much assistance?” Vinyl asked.
“I honestly couldn’t tell you at this point.”
A silence settled over the room as Vinyl processed the information, her eyes downcast. The clock on the wall counted out a steady rhythm in its gentle tick-tock, though each second seemed to drag into its own eternity. Finally, Vinyl sniffled and forced her attention back to Soma.
“I see, what’s next?”
“Well, for now we’ll get you off your hooves to rest for a bit and get some food into you—”
“Enough about the damn food!” Vinyl snapped.
Soma held up a hoof in surrender as Octavia bit back a sigh. The subject at least temporarily dropped, Octavia helped support Vinyl while Soma got her out of the harness and into the wheelchair. Once Vinyl was securely buckled into the chair, Soma took a moment to gather her files and get her saddlebag on.
“Vinyl, with your permission, I’d like to get you fitted for leg braces.” Soma said.
“What good would those do?” Vinyl asked, wiping her cheek against her foreleg.
“You’ve made some excellent progress over the last few weeks, but I think we’re hitting a wall. Your left leg has been continually problematic, and your right leg isn’t strong enough to cover for it yet. With braces we can ease the burden on your muscles and it could get us over the hump we’ve run across.”
“How long would she have to wear them?” Octavia asked, her right foreleg gently resting on Vinyl’s shoulder.
“We won’t know that until we try them out for a while,” Soma answered.
Vinyl’s ears folded back. “I will be able to walk again, right?”
Soma gave Vinyl a warm smile. “You’re a fighter Vinyl, and you’ve made a lot of progress since we started. So I think that you will, in time, and I think that the braces will help.”
“Okay, so how do I get those?”
“When I see you this evening I’ll bring a couple sets in your size. We’ll get you set up with a pair that fits and then when you’re in the harness tomorrow we’ll have you wear them and see if they help.”
“Alright, thanks,” Vinyl said, her voice quiet and her expression distant.
“I’ll leave you two for now. We’ll try again this afternoon once you’re more rested, Vinyl.” Soma said, her gaze shifting from Octavia to Vinyl.
“Yes, of course,” Octavia said, extending her hoof to Soma. “We can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done to help.”
Soma gave Octavia a warm smile, pressing her hoof against the cellist’s and giving it a gentle shake. “It’s what I do. I’ll see you two later tonight for your evening session.”
Octavia pulled Soma into a friendly hug, a gesture that Soma kindly returned before she took her leave of them. Octavia waited until she heard the door click shut; turning her attention to Vinyl, she trotted over and sat in front of the blue-maned mare. Vinyl stared vacantly at the floor, her eyes unfocused and her ears low.
Octavia let out a soft sigh, a sad frown forming on her lips. Her eyes studied Vinyl’s body as she had done countless times before. She noted how frail Vinyl had become as the weeks stretched on. The muscles in Vinyl’s legs had atrophied while she had been confined to the bed. Part of her current struggle in relearning to walk had been replacing the lost muscle mass. That process had ground to a halt as well when Vinyl had slipped into her prolonged melancholy. Vinyl’s appetite was just another in the long list of casualties.
“Your forehead’s healing nicely,” Octavia commented softly, reaching up with a hoof to brush Vinyl’s mane out of her eyes, “though you could use a mane cut.”
“If you say so,” Vinyl answered.
“Once your coat grows back in nopony will ever be able to tell you have the scar.” Octavia said.
Vinyl shrugged, the gesture almost imperceptible.
“Well, Vinyl, how about we go to the cafeteria and get something to eat?” Octavia asked.
An irritated growl escaped Vinyl’s throat. “I don’t want anything.”
“Well I don’t care, you need to eat and you’re going to even if I have to force it down your stubborn throat.” Octavia stated very firmly.
“I’m fine!”
“Like Hell you are!” Octavia snapped, “Vinyl, you’ve lost so much weight that I can count your ribs from here!”
“I’m fine,” Vinyl insisted for a second time, though her voice devoid of the conviction it had carried moments earlier.
Octavia closed her eyes and took a breath, forcing herself to calm down for a moment. Once she was certain she had regained her usual composure, she sat in front of Vinyl’s wheelchair and sighed. She reached out with her right hoof, lightly resting it over Vinyl’s left hoof.
“Vinyl, please,” Octavia began, her voice quiet, “I’m worried about you. I don’t know how else I can say it.”
Vinyl rubbed her face with her hooves and forced herself to take a deep breath. “I’m just... just not hungry anymore, Tavi.”
“They said the drugs would have that effect, Vinyl, but you’re not going to get better if you don’t take in any nutrition.”
“Hospital food isn’t nutrition,” Vinyl grumbled, “it’s gruel.”
“Oh don’t be so melodramatic, the deli here makes perfectly fine food.”
“Clearly you haven’t eaten enough of it,” Vinyl chided, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
“Tell you what, how about we get some fruit and yogurt, even they can’t mess that up,” Octavia offered.
“Yogurt is gross,” Vinyl said with a pout.
“Well then I’ll eat your yogurt and you can eat my fruit cup.”
Vinyl snorted, and failed spectacularly to restrain the grin that spread over her face. Octavia stared at the unicorn with a blank expression for several long seconds before the realization hit her. She groaned and smacked herself in the forehead.
“Really, Vinyl?” she asked, despondently.
Vinyl squeezed her eyes shut and bit her tongue, unable to make a sound lest she burst into gales of laughter.
“You are utterly incorrigible sometimes,” Octavia said, casting a disapproving glare to her fiance.
“Y-you gotta cut me some slack, Tavi,” Vinyl managed to sputter through her constant snickers, “I’ve been pretty good given how long its been since we last got to fool around.”
“We’re not having this conversation!” Octavia stated, her grey cheeks flushing red.
“Why not, you’re cute when you’re all hot and bothered,” Vinyl retorted with a wink.
“How can you even have a sex drive with all the drugs they’ve been giving you?”
Vinyl’s amusement faded from the question, the joy giving way to a sad smile. “I don’t have one, Tavi. Not since... well... not since I got here."
Silence settled between the two for a moment, both mares keeping to their own thoughts. Finally, Octavia stood and trotted behind the wheelchair. Standing on her rear legs, she hooked her fetlocks around the handles and kissed the back of Vinyl’s head.
“Come on, let’s get some breakfast, then we can play a board game or listen to the radio for a while, how’s that sound?”
Vinyl gave a quiet sigh, she really didn’t want to eat, but she hated to see Tavi unhappy. And since her accident, it seemed all Vinyl could do was leave her love unhappy. Vinyl’s horn ignited, lifting her glasses from her snout as she raised a hoof to her eyes, gently trying to rub the weariness away.
“Can we at least eat it outside?”
Octavia thought the request over for a moment. “Well, as long as the weather team hasn’t started the day’s storm yet, then I suppose that would be fine.”
“Hey, Tavi?”
“Hey, Vinyl?”
“I love you.”
Octavia smiled, lightly nuzzling Vinyl’s mane. “I love you too. Every sick, perverse, vulgar, maddening, beautiful inch of you.”
“Gee, you really know how to charm a mare, Tavi,” Vinyl said, rolling her eyes and smirking lightly.
Ocvtavia shrugged her shoulders before unlocking the wheelchair’s brakes and pushing Vinyl out of the spartan room. “Perhaps, but it works on you.”
“... Cheater.”
“I get the feeling you’ll keep me.”
“Damn right I will. Now, mush!” Vinyl proclaimed, her right foreleg pointed straight ahead.
Octavia rolled her eyes. “You’re such a foal sometimes.”
“At least I don’t—”
“Another word and I will force feed you creamed spinach until your coat turns green.”
Vinyl pouted and folded her forelegs across her chest. “Meanie.”
“I love you too, dear.”
Both Octavia and Vinyl couldn’t help a happy smile as they made their way through the wide halls of Manehattan General Hospital. Despite the turmoil since Vinyl’s photo had been published, the difficulties of her rehabilitation, and the ruthless boredom of hospital life, things had been improving. Octavia almost dared to hope that before the month was out Vinyl could be released from inpatient care and allowed to return home to Ponyville to complete her recovery.
“Hey, Tavi?” Vinyl spoke up, distracting Octavia from her thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Did Lyra and Bonnie make it back home alright?”
“I would presume so, their train should have arrived in Ponyville yesterday morning.”
Vinyl gave an acknowledging grunt, having long given up on attempting to nod with her collar still securing her neck. “I need to write them a letter, apologize for the trouble I caused.”
“Vinyl, this wasn’t your fault, alright? It was an accident that could have happened to anypony. Lyra and Bon Bon know that just as well as everyone else does.” Octavia said.
Vinyl responded with a shrug.
After a few more minutes of walking, Octavia and Vinyl arrived at the large glass doors that led to the hospital’s garden. The scenic scene never failed to bring a smile to Octavia’s lips. Like Vinyl, she wasn’t particularly fond of cities. Unlike Vinyl, she had the option for more profitable work in rural towns like Ponyville where wealthy ponies tended to keep vacation homes or host getaways with friends and business partners.
The hospitals garden space was very large by city standards. Octavia guessed that nearly half a city block could fit into it should the hospital ever decide to sell the land. She fervently hoped they never did. The garden, full of blossoming trees, bushes, and flower beds was a bastion of peace in the chaos of Manehattan. Many patients and their families tried to spend time out in the sun as opposed to cooped up indoors.
Vinyl herself had been clamoring to spend more time outdoors ever since she had learned of the garden. Poultice had kept her indoors longer than most given his concerns over her fragile condition after the surgery. Octavia had reluctantly supported his position, as miserable as Vinyl was trapped in a small hospital room, at least there she was safer from infection. After the accident, there wasn’t much of anything Octavia was willing to risk Vinyl for.
Sighting a row of blossoming cherry trees beside a cobblestone path, Octavia turned the wheelchair in that direction and smiled. Pushing Vinyl in the direction of the trees, she situated the wheelchair under a pair of overlapping branches, just so that if it did begin to rain before they were done with breakfast, they would have at least a little cover.
“How’s this spot work, Vinyl?” Octavia asked, adjusting the wheelchair so Vinyl had a good view of the garden pavillion and locking the brakes.
“It’s okay,” Vinyl said with an indifferent shrug. “Anythings better than being back in my room, anyway.”
Octavia chuckled softly and brushed her hoof across Vinyl’s cheek. “Well, I’ll go get us breakfast. Be a good girl and I’ll get you a milkshake later.”
Vinyl stared in feigned disdain. “You evil temptress...”
Octavia smiled, leaning down to steal a gentle kiss. “If it gets you to eat a healthy meal, then so be it. We’ve got to get some meat back on your bones.”
“I thought you wanted me to lose a little weight,” Vinyl challenged with a hint of her old smirk on her lips.
“No, I said you needed to cut back on having chocolate cake for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a midnight snack.”
“Hey, I offered to share!”
“Vinyl, my love, you ate it all before I could get near it.”
Vinyl huffed and folded her forelegs across her chest, her lips pursed together in a silent pout.
“It’s not my fault you were slow,” she grumbled.
A scoff of laughter escaped Octavia, who planted a delicate kiss on Vinyl’s cheek before moving behind the wheelchair. “Shall we find a spot for lunch?”
“Fine,” Vinyl surrendered, “but no yogurt!”
“Yes, yes, don’t get your mane in a twist, Vinyl.” Octavia teased. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“I’ll be here,” Vinyl promised.
Vinyl watched Octavia trot back into the hospital, she waited until the door clicked closed before she allowed herself a sigh. Leaning back as best she could, she gazed into the Manehattan skyline. For a storm day, she was surprised to see a distinct lack of coverage. Vinyl wondered if storm days were different for cities like Manehattan, or if the Ponyville weather manager was just way better than the Manehattan manager.
Shrugging the thoughts from her mind, Vinyl closed her eyes and sighed. At least it was a warm morning, even with the minimal sunlight. For a moment, she felt almost comfortable. The gentle breeze carried the fragrance of the flowerbeds and blossoming trees around her. The scents reminded Vinyl of home with Tavi.
She remembered their first summer together in Ponyville, when they had just moved into their home. They had resolved to plant a flower garden in the backyard, a place they could entertain guests and relax. The experiment in gardening had somehow ended with them throwing dirtballs at each other for the better part of an hour.
Vinyl smiled more from the memories of the cleanup process.
A sharp scream startled her back to reality.
She looked up just in time to see a pegasus mare, her coat golden and her mane firey red crash into the ground. A second mare, a sky-blue pegasus with a familiar rainbow mane tumbled free of her grasp, landing in a heap several feet away. Vinyl’s mouth dried up and her heart raced.
“Hey, help! Help! Somepony, help!” Vinyl shouted, loud as she could.
“Say, I got an idea! How about I go check out that show stand we passed and see what’s playing tonight, then after we walk around for a while and do some shopping we can catch a show or two and get some drinks to celebrate!”
Vinyl recoiled as though slapped by the vivid flash of memory.
The golden pegasus mare writhed on the ground, her right wing stuck out perpendicular from her body. Her hooves dug at the grass trying desperately to get herself back to her hooves, but whatever pain that had rooted itself in her wing kept her all but tied to the ground. The sky-blue mare she had been carrying remained deathly still, her coat charred in places and speckled with blood in places.
She was trotting across the street, the steady pitter-patter of raindrops falling gently over her body. A gentle shiver ran down her spine, yet in spite of the chill from the wind and rain, Vinyl smiled. It was going to be a good—
“Watch out!” a voice shouted.
Vinyl turned in time to see one of the large construction carts race towards her, she froze.
Vinyl flinched hooves fumbled with the break locks on her wheelchair, unable to disengage them in her panic. The sky-blue mare with the rainbow mane laid motionless beside the golden coated mare, who cried out in agony from a wound Vinyl was unable to see from her position. Why did they both look so familiar?
She couldn’t move. Her head burned and her body ached, but she couldn’t move. Cold rain seeped into her coat, leeching the warmth from her body.
She couldn’t move.
“HELP! FOR CELESTIA’S SAKE, WE NEED HELP!” she shouted again.
Vinyl abandoned her struggle with the brakes, instead unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning forward until she fell free of the chair. She grunted as her front hooves to the brunt of the impact, her neck sending a bolt of pain through her body. She gritted her teeth and ignored it, other ponies needed help more than she did.
“Come on,” She growled, trying to will her rear legs to work, “come on!”
Dragging herself forward with her front hooves, Vinyl didn’t make it far before her already tired limbs gave out. Her chin smacked against the grass, the blow causing her glasses to tumble off her snout. Vinyl gritted her teeth, tears burning at her eyes.
‘T-Tavi! I c-can’t move! Oh Celestia, I can’t move!’
Vinyl’s hooves clasped the sides of her head as her eyes squeezed tightly shut. The flashes of memories struck out from the dark corners of her mind like lightning, and no matter how hard she willed it, they wouldn’t go away. The golden mare’s screams of pain echoed through her mind.
“Vinyl!” Octavia’s voice called to her.
Octavia’s forelegs wrapped around her, lifting her body from the cold earth. Vinyl could feel Octavia’s warmth press against her, she could hear the chaotic shouts of ponies around her. The golden mare’s cries of agony faded as she was taken to the emergency room.
“Tavi, I-I can’t breathe,” Vinyl managed through heavy gasps. “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe!”
“Vinyl? Vinyl, love, look at me!” Octavia pleaded, her voice trembling as the panic began to eat away at her. “Come on, Vinyl, please!”
“I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die!” she sobbed.
Vinyl buried her head in her hooves, her eyes squeezed shut and tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Make it stop! Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!” Vinyl begged as she shook her head wildly from side to side.
Magic ripped her from Octavia’s grasp. For an instant she felt nothing but the air on her coat, then finally the firm padding of a gurney under her back.
“Vinyl, we need you to focus on us, just for a few moments!” a stallion said.
Vinyl’s jaw trembled, her body writhing and shaking as she futilely tried to stall the torrent of anguish. Octavia’s hooves held hers tight, Vinyl felt an oxygen mask slip over her muzzle.
“I can’t do this,” she whimpered, “I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I can’t do it.”
“Yes you can, Vinyl, yes you can!” Octavia said, her own voice trembling. “I’m right here, everything is going to be alright. You’re safe, I promise!”
“Vinyl,” the stallion’s voice began, “we’re gonna give you some medicine to help you relax, alright?”
Vinyl felt the pinch of a needle in her foreleg. She whimpered and held tightly to Octavia, terrified to let go for fear of what might happen. The all too familiar warmth of the medication filled her foreleg, and as the darkness encroached on her mind she held tight to the only thing she had left.
Octavia had to force herself not to pace the hallway outside of Vinyl’s room. In the hours after she had woken up, Dr. Poultice had arranged for her to speak with a traumatologist. Octavia had barely had a chance to speak with the stallion herself, though he had seemed a kindly pegasus. What did bother her was his insistence that he and Vinyl speak in private.
After the events in the garden, Octavia probably wouldn’t have left Vinyl alone with her own parents. Poultice had largely stayed with her the whole time, patiently enduring her outbursts and concerns with quiet compassion.
“I shouldn’t have left her,” Octavia chastised herself, “but I did, and she got hurt. Why did I leave her? Why didn’t I get the food first?”
“Octavia,” Poultice began, his tone gentle but firm, “this wasn’t your fault, unless you happen to be a secret employee of the weather factory. Which, given your distinct lack of wings, I find a bit unlikely.”
“I know, but—”
“But nothing, there was a medical emergency, and Vinyl just happened to be in the wrong spot when the casualties came in. Though, was it true she tried to drag herself to them to help?” he asked.
Octavia thought for a moment, her memory of the morning’s activity somewhat blurred from hours of worry. “When... when I got there she had gotten out of her wheelchair and had pulled herself towards them, yes. It looked like she tried to unlock the brakes, but couldn’t quite get them.”
Poultice chuckled and smiled. “Your fiance is quite the selfless hero, it seems.”
Octavia let out a tired laugh, her hoof rubbing at her eyes. “What I’d give for her to be a little more selfish today.”
Poultice hummed softly, his hoof rubbing the back of his neck for a moment. “Octavia, how are you handling all of this?”
“Hmm?” Octavia stared at him, surprised by the question. “Um, fine. I’m just taking it one day at a time, you know?”
“Mm-hmm,” Poultice nodded, his horn igniting and adjusting his glasses. “Octavia, I’d like you to consider speaking to a psychologist yourself.”
“What for?” she asked, eyeing the aging stallion warily.
“Vinyl’s my patient, so I’m concerned about her physical and mental well being. However, part of that means I also need to be concerned with your well being.”
“This has been a... difficult process, I admit, but I assure you I’m quite alright.” she insisted.
“Then please, just speak with a psychologist yourself, for Vinyl’s sake if nothing else. It won’t do either of you any good if you burn yourself out.”
“I have no intention—”
“I know, I know,” Poultice said, holding up a hoof. “But this sort of process is long and difficult, exceptionally so in Vinyl’s case. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you on a day-to-day basis.”
Octavia’s posture sagged somewhat, her lips pulling into a frown. “Maybe when Vinyl’s back home, I’m not sure we can afford any more right now, and Vinyl’s needs far outweigh mine at the moment.”
“I will pay for it, Octavia,” Poultice insisted, “just please, talk to someone before a problem can develop.”
“W-why?” Octavia asked, stunned by the offer, “not... not that I don’t appreciate the offer! But, you’ve done so much for Vinyl and I already.”
“Octavia,” Poultice began, lightly resting a hoof on her shoulder, “I’ve rarely seen a pony get hit as hard as you and Vinyl have, and I’ll be damned if I don’t do everything in my power to help. If that means I can arrange for you to talk with somepony, then I will. If it means I can get my brother to help you and Vinyl through that media business, I will. Just, let me help.”
Octatvia smiled, wiping a conspicuous bit of moisture from her eyes. “You’re a good stallion, Poultice.”
“I try my best,” he answered.
The sound of the door opening interrupted their conversation. A charcoal colored pegasus, with a greyed mane and hazel eyes stepped out, quietly pulling the door closed behind him. He smiled and nodded his head politely to Octaiva and Poultice as he noticed them.
“How is she?” Octavia asked, “what happened?”
“She’s resting now, which is the best thing for her, as to what happened, Vinyl is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.” He paused as he noticed the horrified look on Octavia’s face. “We’ve caught it early, so I think we’re in a good position to treat it.”
“What do we need to do?” she asked.
“I’m going to start her on an antidepressant, and for the duration of her stay here I’m going to talk with her once a week for at least an hour. I’d also recommend that she get to a more comfortable living arrangement soon. Long-term hospitalization is not ideal for mental well being.”
“As soon as her physical therapist clears her, then I can release her to out-patient care,” Poultice added.
“Would we need to stay in the city, or does that mean I can take her back to Ponyville?”
Poultice hummed and rubbed his chin. “I would prefer she stays in the city, but if she would be more comfortable in Ponyville we can certainly send her file over there.”
“In the meantime,” the traumatologist began, “we need to keep her stimulated, get her something to focus her mind on when she has another bout of flashbacks or nightmares.”
“Like what?” Octavia asked.
“That depends on the pony. Some of my patients took to knitting, others would garden obsessively, I even had one stallion who turned to bodybuilding. It’s all dependant on that pony’s interests.”
Octavia felt a light bulb immediately flash in her mind. “I think I may know just the thing.”
After saying goodbye to both doctors, at least for a while, Octavia quietly slipped into Vinyl’s room. Her heart sank somewhat at the sight of Vinyl, sadness overwhelming her face even in sleep. Octavia made her way to her bag and fished out pencil and paper. Setting herself up at the table, she thought for a moment before she began to write.
‘Dear Lyra and Bon Bon,’