We parked Suzy somewhere between Arkansas and Missouri. Jess’s map system couldn’t make up its mind and dark as it was we couldn’t make out signs from our position.
“What do you think?” I asked as Jess went about pulling a cloud bed together.
She was quiet. Weighing her words most likely.
“We’re not professionals,” she responded. “We’re not even amateurs. You’re the only one of us with anything approaching investigation experience.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
She frowned over her work then looked back to me. “You sure about this, love?”
I looked off into the night sky where it met the horizon. Somewhere below us, ponies with fresh human pilots were waking up, seeing the world anew. Some were safe, protected like the group we met in Nashville. Some were on the run, thrown from their homes. Who was Rhea?
“Yeah,” I said.
Maybe I can help, Blossom piped up.
Oh?
Well, I’m pretty observant and being with you is making me think differently. We’d have more eyes on this!
Mmm, I thought noncommittally.
What’s the matter? You don’t think it’s a good idea?
We’ll see, I thought and glanced over at Jess.
Blossom shared my gaze, watching as Jess finished up her sleeping cloud. You’re worried about her, aren’t you? she said, quietly.
Cloud’s not sharing, I said. You can’t do that with Jess. You have to be available, present. She’s going to think Cloud is ignoring her. I’m worried how that’s going to take its toll.
You don’t know that for certain, Blossom replied. Maybe they’re working it out. From what I know of Jess, she and Cloud should be fine since they’re both big fans of planning ahead.
Oh yeah, I said. Forgot that bit about Cloud.
I felt Blossom go through more of my head and I winced.
Sorry, was I-?
No, no you’re fine, it’s just... I’m trying to focus and you’re distracting me.
She blinked.
That’s the first time you’ve really lied to me. In your own head. What’s up?
I pushed air through my nose, resting my head on my crossed forelegs.
We’re essentially looking into a missing persons just because it’s on our way and a fanboy thinks we’re capable. Luna knows why. These are hard. Especially if the missing person wants to stay missing. Often we don’t know people as well as we think we do and when they disappear, that’s it.
Jess smiled at me and I smiled back. She motioned and I floated over to join her on the cloud bed. Ooooh. If I ever got the offer to go back to human, this was going to be hard to give up. Clouds are comfy.
That’s pretty depressing, Blossom thought. Not just what you said, but... All these feelings that come with it. How-?
My parents are journalists, I thought bluntly. Investigative. That’s where I get the lion’s share of my experience. Which meant growing up they weren’t covering the cute dog of the day or the hot celebrity or whatever. Real news was on in my house constantly. They talked about difficult stories openly. I have no illusions about the world.
You still hope though, Blossom said. You... Watched us and felt like you found something special.
Equestria’s nice, I thought. Good escape. Just like this. Just a little escape and then the magic spell will end and you’ll go away.
Wow, someone got mopey all of a sudden.
I looked at Jess, nuzzled her.
I’m not mopey. I’m realistic.
“Jeeee-ess, January’s being mopey,” my traitorous mouth said.
“Hey!” I replied, sitting up.
Blossom giggled. Oh for-
“You’re being mopey?” Jess said, turning a concerned gaze on me and now that she was focused she could see it easy.
I frowned. Stupid, body-sharing, nosy pegasus. I mentally shook my fist at her, and she just giggled further.
“I’m worried,” I said, glancing away. “What if we don’t find her? What if we do and it’s bad? Carlisle seems like a nice guy and we’ve just been given our first opportunity to do something and all I can think of is how I’m going to screw this up!”
Jess sighed and smiled, settling into her cloud and leaning against me.
“So, nothing new?” she said.
“I’m serious here, Jessica,” I said.
“So am I. Look, you wouldn’t have said yes if you didn’t think you could do this and I didn’t agree just to go along with you. I’ve seen that brain of yours at work, love. You’ll find this girl. I know it.”
She kissed me on the cheek.
I blushed, tried to scowl, failed.
“C’mon, let’s get to sleep,” she said. “You’ll have a better perspective in the morning.”
I snuggled in close and Jess draped a wing over me.
“G’night, Firefly,” I said.
“G’night, Cupcake,” she replied.
My breathing steadied out, my eyes drooped, my body relaxed by degrees and then I slipped under.
~
I didn’t even realize I was walking because I didn’t remember getting up to walk, I was just walking and my surroundings were dark and indistinct.
“Where am I?”
“Deep. I can’t tell if she’s letting her guard down or you’re just asking the right questions.”
I glanced over and up and there was Nanashi. She had an off-side streak of pink and green in her hair.
“Where’d you get that thing?” I said, pointing to the contrasting highlight.
“You gave it to me, Blossom,” she replied, keeping pace beside me.
I stopped. I wasn’t Blossomforth.
“What did you call me?” I asked quietly.
Nanashi turned, having gotten a few paces ahead. She cocked her head and arched an eyebrow at me.
“What do you think your name is?” she asked in the tones of a person asking a bomb if it could kindly not blow up at this time as that might put everyone out for a while.
“I’m Janu..”
Uh oh.
“Is it speeding up?” I asked instead.
Nanashi shrugged. “It’s y’all’s head.”
I closed my eyes, slowed my breathing, and Listened. I Listened for my thoughts, my perspective, myself.
“I’m January,” I said, nodding.
“Oh that was trippy,” Blossomforth said just a little behind me
Turning, I found my surroundings resolving into a long corridor, lit by electric lamps on the walls. As I took in what my subconscious had provided, I realized Blossom was looking at me funny. I could see why. In a nearby mirror, I looked exactly like her save for the necklace around my neck. She wore the shield bracelet on her foreleg.
“What... Happened?” I asked.
“We- You went to sleep,” she said, her head lowering in thought. “And we... We were... I don’t remember.” She looked at me, her eyes wide with fear as the realization sunk in. “I don’t remember,” she said, her voice inching up in panic.
I nodded. “Okay. Okay.” I started pacing the hallway. “Okay.”
Nanashi leaned against the wall and observed us cooly, arms folded.
“You two were talking over each other when you went to sleep. Then, somepony else was walking with me to further explore...” She shrugged. “Something.”
“Wasn’t this supposed to be, like, a safe place?” Blossom asked, throwing her hooves in the air. “I mean, I know we’re merging, but weren’t these dreams supposed to be a check-in point? A hey, how’s it going?”
Stopping, I looked over at Blossom and realized I needed to say something.
“Sex,” I said.
Blossom cocked her head at me, frustration clear on her features. “What about it?” she asked.
“You didn’t blush when I said it.”
That made her blink.
“Oh boy,” she said.
“You are not allowed!” a thundering voice boomed.
Blossom and I looked around in confusion.
“Oh boy,” Nanashi said, rolling her eyes. “Her. I thought you got rid of her, boss.”
“Who?” I asked. “Rid of who?!”
The hall suddenly echoes with the click of hard heels. From boots. Only, there’s something wrong with the sound, it retreats as quickly as it comes while still building to inevitability.
“Who?” I squeak.
Nanashi sighs, gestures down the hall and then I see her.
She’s tall and inky black and her face is a thunderstorm of determination. I realize I can’t make out her body as it seems to sluice and slide around itself as well as lick up the walls, ahead of, behind and all around her. Her face is clear though. Gray skin with eyes like black pools, she’s glaring at me, hard.
As her confounding footsteps echo all around, her arm sweeps out and it’s going for Blossom.
On instinct, I leap between the pair and spread my wings and forelegs wide in protection.
The arm, longer than it has a right to be, freezes right in front of my muzzle. I realize her hands are white. Bone, marrow white. And currently sharp as a scalpel.
“She must not be allowed,” she says simply.
“Warden, stand down,” I respond.
She seethes, her teeth becoming sharp and purposeful as she bares down on me.
“You do not order me,” she hisses. Her arm twitches as if to slice me.
I stand my ground, unflinching, sweat on my brow. I can hear a violin string somewhere in the distance. It’s being pulled tauter and tauter.
“Who- who is that?” Blossom asks.
The sound rises. It’s like someone’s playing the string with a razor, adding further edge to the already unnerving noise.
“The warden who watches the watchman,” Nanashi replies. “The keeper of January’s heart.”
We all stand. Nanashi off to the side, uninvolved, but speaking truth. The Warden in front of me, menacing and powerful in her own right. Blossomforth, who hasn’t left to hide in a safer place in my subconscious, instead depending on me. Me, who is just holding my ground.
“I am not clearing someone else after we let that cow through!” the Warden hisses.
The violin string snaps.
Suddenly, I’m not Blossomforth’s twin. Suddenly, I am tall. Suddenly, I am true. Suddenly, I am wrapped in a white dress that explodes in tulle around my knees with a black, crop-top jacket over it. I stomp in purposeful boots toward the Warden, whose arm retracts and she shrinks, becoming solid and pinnable.
“Wanna repeat that?” I ask, my voice chilled and quiet as I loom over her.
She glares up at me, fear marking her every feature.
I bore my gaze through her, shrinking her more.
“You were speaking about the woman I love, Warden, clearly you have an opinion,” I say.
Ice is forming along the walls. I can hear Blossom’s teeth start to chatter and see breath out of the corner of my eye from Nanashi as she exhales.
“None are to be trusted,” the Warden says, small, defeat in her voice if not her words. “They are all risks.”
I straighten and fold my arms to regard her. Ice continues to spread around me, locking her down, keeping her still. Small, ink woman. Warden of my heart. She was so useful so long ago, but now...
“You are obsolete,” I say and it’s a pronouncement. “You are remembered only because I appreciate your actions in the past.”
I lean forward until my large face is centimeters from her tiny head.
“Do not abuse my kindness again. Find purpose elsewhere and leave my heart to me.”
And she was gone.
The ice broke, raining from the wall and around me. I spun on a heel to slump into a nearby chair. I fit since I was now just a few inches under Nanashi again. Sighing, I rubbed at my temple, eyes closed.
I felt when Blossomforth’s hoof touched my leg.
“January?”
I inhaled and opened my eyes slightly. “In the flesh. So to speak.”
“Wow. How did you- What was-”
Her eyes clouded and I felt that same fluttering through my head and chest I’d gotten used to ascribing to her when Blossom was catching up with my mind. It was faster. Just before the questions could fully form, they were answered. We were very close now.
I leaned into the chair’s cushion. Nanashi smiled at me across the hall. She hadn’t moved once during this whole ordeal.
“Having fun?” I asked her.
“A blast,” she replied. “Nice dress, dude.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thank you.”
“Don’t you love her?”
I turned to her voice and found Blossom had pulled up another chair to sit next to me. She wasn’t looking at me, and her expression was obtuse.
“I do,” I responded, aware of who she was talking about.
“Then why is all... That in there?” she said, waving her hoof where the Warden had been.
“I’m complicated,” I responded.
She gave me a withering, unimpressed look.
“Sorry,” I replied, chagrined. Exhaling, I drummed my fingers on the armrest.
“I have trust issues.”
“No, duh,” she replied. “What does that have to do with how you feel about your marefriend?”
I frowned. I’d tried having this discussion with Jessica before. It never went well.
Eventually, I just focused on how I felt about her and us and how I felt about her when the chips were down. That didn’t unmake all my horrid little what-if’s and worries. I never expected to be in a relationship ever again. Especially not one this supportive. After a life like mine, I didn’t wait for the other shoe to drop, I looked for it to drop.
“You know how some stories have a character who has a contingency plan for their contingency plan?” I said instead.
“I’m part you now, so of course,” she replied.
“Well, I have contingency plans for my contingency plans for my relationships with people.” I sighed, slumping into the nice dress. Weird, I never really thought of myself as a dress girl, but here it is: all white and floofy. The jacket and thick boots are a bit more my style. “The way life’s treated me... It’s just... Safer.”
Blossom shakes her head. “You really should have been merged with Cloud, you sound just like her.”
My head popped up at that. “What?”
“She’s always like, ‘I have my rules so nobody gets hurt’ or ‘I don’t want to hurt anypony, so I keep my distance.’ Seriously, you’re like... Brain Twins.”
“Ugh,” I muttered, placing a hand over my eyes. “I weep for Jess. I can’t imagine sharing my mind with somepony like me.”
“I can,” Blossom said. “And I don’t have to imagine either, so you know what?”
I raised a few fingers to let one eye peek at her.
“You’re a pretty nice person, January. You put others before yourself in a really astounding way and while you don’t seem to have a clue how people feel about you, you’re really sharp at reading them and using that to help. You’re funny and clever and creative as all tartarus and while I’m no expert on humans, I know you actually do look pretty good.”
I blushed, ducking my head. She sounded like Jess.
“That said, you are easily the most scared pony I’ve met since Fluttershy.”
My head came back up at that.
“Your marefriend loves you. I can see it, Cloud sees it, dogs see it. That means she trusts you implicitly and the least you can do is the same to her.”
“I do,” I replied. It came out only a little petulant.
Blossomforth shook her head.
“You still have an exit hatch, a contingency plan,” she said.
And, yeah, there it was.
She looked over at it: a steel door with a bright red EXIT sign above it. It was simple and didn’t even have a complicated handle. It was like an office door, just a push to open it and step through.
“Trust means you can’t have that. Thanks to you, I know her pretty well. And I can pretty safely say, using your people-reading skills, that she doesn’t have one for you. She never would.”
I stared at the door. I thought I’d gotten rid of it long ago.
“I’m scared,” I said.
“Of what?”
“Getting hurt.”
“Take it from me,” Blossom said. “Life will always find a way to hurt you.” She sighed. “A lot.”
Memories not my own flickered to the top and I felt tears running down my muzzle as faces that had familiarity and ache to them surfaced.
“But, it’s going to hurt more as long as you have that thing.” She pointed with her hoof to the contingency exit.
I looked at the Exit door. So simple. So powerful. So dangerous..
I remember our last big fight.
It was the latest in a series of fights that had threatened continuous escalation that week. Things were not helped by me bringing home some unrefined, raw emotions from a rough session of therapy. That hour usually covers my spectrum, but I’d stalled and by the time we’d gotten to where my pain was, time was up. I came home with all the pain still on my sleeve.
How I trusted Jess came to the table. I shared fully, unrestrained and unfiltered and not in a good way.
There are words you can’t take back. Words that once said change the entire landscape between people and in a blink, once familiar terrain is dark and foreboding and filled with perilous shadows.
I said some of those words. I meant them.
Jessica realized exactly how paranoid and suspicious I could be. How cruel I could be. I thought she’d share the same suspicions of me, but she didn’t. She explained through a face of tears how she would never think such a thing of me. Ever.
I almost broke us up because I thought I’d keep doing this to her, ripping at her heart because while I thought people were great and were capable of great things, I believed everyone had the same capacity for horrible things too. I could only trust so far, what made her special? Why should I stay if she would only go? I dumped that on her and she cried, holding me tighter than she ever had.
And as I watched her sob, my own eyes clouded with tears. I realized I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t lose her. Ever. I went through my trust questions every day and I always came to the same answer: stay with her.
We held on.
Because I didn’t want to lose her. Because she didn’t want to lose me. Because she was important to me and I wanted her to be there tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. Because I’d always been important to her and she was just waiting for me to catch up.
I cleared my mental house and worked hard to keep myself from backsliding and suspecting her of every little thing. I trusted her, alien as it was to me.
Weeks passed. We rebuilt. We grew surer in each other and what we were doing.
Apparently though, some doubt lingered, deep in the recesses of my mind.
I looked at the door. So simple. So final.
I rose and walked over to it.
“I thought this was about ponies,” I said, not touching the door.
“It’s about us,” Blossomforth said, stepping up next to me. “If I’m going to live here, then I have to know you can trust me. If this is here for the woman you love with your whole heart, how can we ever fully trust each other?”
My breathing had picked up.
“How do I know I can trust you?” I asked. “Maybe you’re clever. Maybe you figured out a way to hide-”
“January.”
The flat pronouncement curbed me and the shadows I’d felt creeping around my face faded.
“Sorry,” I said, my head drooping.
“I forgive you. I know you’ve had it rough. But your mind shouldn’t be one more place to tear into yourself.”
I stared at the door intently, then I reached up to the door’s frame and gripped it hard. I started tugging.
“What are you doing?” Blossom asked.
“Being metaphorical. Now are you going to criticize or help me here?”
Blossom shook her head and approached the door frame as well, biting down. To her surprise, the metal bent.
“What the-”
“We’re in the garden of my mind, work with me here,” I muttered and with a wrenching squeal, the metal door frame tore away. Partially.
I sighed, tossing the scrap. “Of course it’s not that easy. Some thirty years of paranoia aren’t just going away.”
“Of course,” Blossom grumbled, tearing at the frame.
We worked long and while the door was firm, it tore like it was some bizarre, metal wallpaper. Eventually our efforts revealed that behind it was a hole. It was a little taller than me and wide enough for two, but a hole nonetheless. Blossom floated up and yanked on the Exit sign, taking it from above the black space where the exit had once been.
“What’s that?” she asked.
I gazed into the empty void and I knew. “The last step,” I said.