//------------------------------// // Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Most Painful Truth // Story: Brushed Away // by TheVClaw //------------------------------// Canvas didn't say anything for a long time. He continued to sob silently while his head was buried in the soft feathers of Troy’s chest. His heart still felt tremendously heavy in his chest, but he was able to stop shaking as he savored the gryphon’s body warmth, and listened to the rhythmic thumps of his heartbeat. Eventually, the forced gasps from Canvas' sobs settled down, allowing him to breathe somewhat quietly. Meanwhile, Troy remained deathly silent as he clutched the pony tightly within his claws. Despite how calm he may have felt within Canvas’ embrace, Troy's thoughts were racing past at lightning speed. He hated to think that Canvas was hurt so badly by somepony that was supposed to be so close to him. Troy's relationship with his own father wasn't exactly great, but he couldn't imagine him doing anything that cruel or heartless. The only thing Canvas could overhear was a brief sigh from above, before he felt Troy’s chin resting down on top of his head. Troy slowly lifted his claw and began to stroke Canvas’ long mane, hoping to alleviate his heartache even by the tiniest bit. Canvas clutched Troy tighter, and struggled not to whimper into his chest. He couldn’t bear to look up at Troy’s face, mostly due to the guilt he felt from never telling him the truth. Though willing to give basic details, Canvas never wanted to tell the full story about his past. This was mostly due to how terrified he felt about the memory; how close he was to death that night. "He…” Canvas' voice came out in a cracked whisper, and he could feel Troy’s grip tightening in response. Canvas kept himself from raising his head up as he spoke. Instead, he closed his eyes a little tighter to keep his tears held back, and hoped that Troy's embrace would make him feel more secure. "... He was so proud of me before that night. For the first time after Mom… he actually looked happy..." Troy heard a couple sniffles, and then felt some additional warmth from Canvas’ tears soaking into his feathers. "But then… after the graduation…” Gallop Creek stood dormant as the rain hammered down relentlessly, which caused the grey buildings to look even less inviting in the dark. As he slowly trotted down the dirt road, Canvas tried his hardest to keep his mind focused on getting home. Unfortunately, it was hard for him to focus on his steps when he felt his fetlocks becoming matted in a thick coating of mud. The graduation gown was doing a surprisingly good job of keeping most of his fur dry, but his face was still soaked underneath his cap. But even as his body shivered from the cold, Canvas had other worries on his mind. More specifically, he hoped he hadn’t made a huge mistake earlier. Canvas made sure no rain got inside the art bag lugged over his shoulder, which now contained his new diploma. He still felt glad to receive such a high accomplishment as earning a Valedictorian status, but any prideful feelings about his degree were badly weighed down by the looming dread he was feeling. While he wasn’t planning to stay in Gallop Creek for much longer, Canvas knew that he messed up any growing respect he had from the town after his speech. Amongst the deafening silence and overheard murmurs following its conclusion, the most troubling thing Canvas noticed was the empty seat in the crowd where his father was supposed to be. He expected to see the dark-green stallion there, showing his support and providing at least one friendly face in the crowded auditorium; but instead, all that Canvas saw was an empty chair with the reserved note taped to the back: ‘Copper Fields.’ Canvas was growing more worried as he got closer to his home, the night’s black sky his only company. He’d tried to stay at the school until dark, but Canvas was still unable to find his Dad after the ceremony. The poor stallion was left walking among the crowd for about an hour, where he felt various ponies’ stares digging into him like painful needles. He didn’t want to think that his father straight-up abandoned him, but Canvas certainly felt casted aside at that point. When he finally reached his house, Canvas only saw a single light inside through one of the windows. He gulped when he recognized the window; it was coming from his Dad’s personal study. Canvas slowly walked in, and took off his gown and cap amidst the darkness. Just as he was placing down his art bag and clothing, he heard a thump from behind the closed door of the study. Canvas slowly walked toward the room, even as he felt the sense of dread in his chest growing immensely. When he cautiously turned the knob and opened the door, he couldn’t see anypony inside. All that he saw was the single lamp that was turned on beside his Dad’s empty recliner, while the rest of the room remained shrouded in darkness. Canvas’ muzzle tightened as he tried to adjust his eyes to the darkness, and carefully stepped into the room. "... Dad?” Canvas heard a floorboard creak behind him, and he turned around just in time to see a large figure in the shadows. The last thing Canvas was able to see was the glimmer of golden brown, illuminated by his father's whiskey bottle, just before it collided with his face. SMASH!!! With a slurred yell from the stallion brandishing that bottle, a half-empty glass vessel smashed with brutal force against Canvas' face. The pony fell to the ground hard, blood spurting out of his snout like a water balloon. Canvas’ mind was caught in a temporary blank as he lay on the floor amongst the blood and broken glass, and his senses were overwhelmed by the acrid scent of alcohol that soaked into his fur. He coughed up more blood, and he could barely process a thing before hearing his father’s hoofsteps drawing closer. "GET THE BUCK UP!" Due to how badly his ears were ringing from the strike, Canvas wasn’t able to hear his father’s enraged voice; and even if he did, the blow to his head left him semi-conscious and unable to move. Unfortunately, Canvas’ sense of terror kicked in just as he felt his father' hooves grabbing him by the shoulders; and before he could defend himself, the stallion was thrown with his back up against the wall. Canvas’ left eye was already starting to swell, so he could only see his Dad’s livid sneer for about a second or two. As he held his son by the neck with a single hoof, Copper’s furious voice was accompanied by his breath, reeking of alcohol. "SO YOU'RE A COLT-CUDDLER NOW?!” Canvas couldn’t even give a response before Copper started punching him repeatedly. The younger pony tried to cry out, but his Dad didn’t show any remorse as he continued to pummel his face with his free hoof. Canvas’ left eye was already in a bad state, but the first couple of punches blackened it to an alarming degree; his right eye, meanwhile, was already swelling too, and more blood spewed from his battered muzzle. After several more punches to his face, staining Copper's green hoof with his son’s red blood, he threw Canvas to the floor and started kicking him in the gut. With each vicious strike, Canvas coughed up more blood that left the taste plastered in his mouth. Despite the abuse, Canvas tried to speak out in gagging wheezes while struggling on the floor. "… P-please… please… just… Dad, I--" "SHUT YOUR MOUTH!!” Copper grabbed his son by his long mane, causing Canvas to scream in pain as he was pulled up from the floor. Canvas desperately tried to move his hooves. Copper smashed his face against the wall. Several framed photos fell down from the force of the impact, none of this phasing Copper as he went down to grab him again. Before he could get his grip on him again, Canvas lunged forward with a panicked cry and pushed his father onto his back. He managed to stumble out of the study, a steady stream of blood dripping from various parts of his face as he tried to run up the stairs. "GET BACK HERE!!" Canvas' heart was thundering fearfully, and the sound of his Dad’s voice caused him to stumble up the steps. He heard his father's hooves rushing up the stairs by the time he reached the top. Canvas hoped he could reach his bedroom in time, and lock the door before anything else could happen. But as his vision grew more strained behind his swelling face, Canvas had to frantically use his hooves to feel his way down the hallway for his door. Just as he touched the doorframe, a hoof suddenly grabbed Canvas by the back of his mane. Canvas tried to scream before his father threw his son's face against the doorframe. The impact struck Canvas’ snout directly, and he lost consciousness. Canvas was only out for less than a minute, but his head and face were throbbing in pain when he slowly woke up. His right eye was now swollen completely shut, and Canvas winced as his left eye tried to open around its own bruising. As his eye tried to adjust to the light, he could overhear his father's slurring grunts, as well as sheets of paper being torn. Canvas had to lean up against the wall as he struggled to get back on his hooves, and his ears twitched upon hearing his Dad’s enraged mutterings from his bedroom. "A colt-cuddler!? A bucking cold-cuddler!? I'm not having that!! No way!! There's no BUCKING way!!" Canvas' working eye could now see the light coming from his open bedroom. The moment he tried to stumble toward the light source, Canvas found himself staring in horror as his bedroom was torn apart. His bed was overturned in the middle of the room, and the rest of his belongings were either being broken or strewn around by his drunken father. Copper was holding a large stack of Canvas' paintings in his hooves, and was carelessly ripping each of them apart before his son's mortified eyes. Years upon years of his hard work were being destroyed right in front of him, many of which were pieces Canvas pridefully made after he discovered his calling as an artist. Even paintings he had made in dedication to his mother were being destroyed. Canvas no longer processed the throbbing pain in his face and body, and he ran toward Copper in a bolt of unbridled rage. “GNAAAAHHHHH!!!” Unfortunately for Canvas, his primal yell caught Copper’s attention before he could strike. But even when Copper responded with another brutal decking of his hoof against Canvas’ face, the younger stallion only faltered a little before lunging again. Canvas managed to push Copper off of his hooves, making him drop the rest of his son's work. Copper's head hit the edge of Canvas' dresser when he fell over, knocking him out cold. Canvas panted frantically as he ran around his destroyed bedroom, desperately trying to pick up every piece of his artwork before Copper could get back up. He wished more than anything that he could pack whatever he could to escape, and cursed himself for thinking he could’ve ever trusted his Dad. But above all else, Canvas worried about getting himself out of the house alive. With tears dripping down his blood-matted face, Canvas stumbled out of his room, nearly falling down the stairs as he made a beeline for the door. Canvas was able to pick up his art bag from the floor, and sobbed to himself as he crammed all the paintings inside without restraint. Just as Canvas threw the bag over his shoulder, he screamed when he felt Copper’s hoof grabbing him from behind. He wasn’t sure how the older stallion could’ve gotten up so quickly, but the shock of the moment left his body limp in his grasp. Canvas tried to scream out for help, but Copper didn’t show any hesitation as he threw open the front door. He then shoved his son out of the house as hard as he could, sending the pony flying out into the yard in the middle of the pouring rain. Canvas fell face-first in the lawn, which was now basically a giant mud-puddle that further dirtied his fur and battered face. Canvas tried to raise his head while it was caked in mud, just as Copper threw his art bag out of the house as well. The bag struck Canvas right in the back of his head, and half of the paintings spilled out in the rain. Canvas was wheezing heavily through his sobs as he started grabbing as many pieces as he could, and shoving them back into his bag with his muddy hooves.  "GET THE BUCK OUT, AND DON’T YOU EVER COME BACK!!!” The pony took one last glance back up at the place he called home. But when he turned around, Canvas saw his father holding the door, glaring at him, showing nothing but pure hatred and disappointment in his eyes "...You're better off dead, you bucking worthless freak." With that, Copper slammed the door, and turned off the front porch light to leave Canvas completely in the dark. The young pony could only lay frozen with his jaw agape, tears still streaming from his swollen eyes. His sobbing intensified as he struggled to get back on his hooves. When he was finally able to stand under his own weight, Canvas was left in a stunned state when he turned away from his house. Due to all the commotion, the other houses in the neighborhood had their lights on; none of the doors were open, but he could see the shapes of many ponies looking through their window blinds to stare at him.  "HELP!!” Canvas cried out in desperation, tears streaming down his face as he stood alone on his front lawn. “PLEASE, HELP ME!!!" Not a single door opened. Even as the stallion continued to cry out for help, the neighborhood slowly turned dark as each individual house turned off its lights. By the time the house across the street finally went dark, Canvas’ sobs receded and his shock grew. It didn’t take long for the pony to realize that he was truly alone. Canvas grabbed his art bag from the mud, and held it tightly between his teeth as he galloped off.  He had no idea where he could’ve gone, but he knew he couldn’t stay in the blasted town. As far as he was concerned, even staying in Gallop Creek for another day would leave him in a worse state than he was in his former home. Eventually, the town limits came up in the distance. There was only one place in Gallop Creek where Canvas could think to go: the local graveyard―the place where his mother rested. By the time he reached his mother’s grave, the storm died down, leaving everything underneath him wet and stagnant. Canvas dropped his bag and threw his hooves around the tombstone, bawling uncontrollably while holding his face against the marble. Not noticing the blood from his face staining the drying stone, Canvas stayed in that spot for several minutes while gusting winds brushed against his back Canvas laid against the headstone with a shattered heart, knowing that the only pony who could be there for him, the only pony who ever loved him, had died years ago. The winds blew even harder against Canvas' back, but they weren’t strong enough to keep him there. When he slowly raised himself back up, his voice came out in a faint whisper as he stared at the tombstone in defeat. "I can’t do this, Mom. I… I just can’t do this anymore..." Despite how hard the winds tried to blow Canvas back toward the stone, he hoisted his muddied bag over his shoulder and rushed out from the graveyard. He galloped past the town limits of Gallop Creek. No matter how much his hooves started to hurt, Canvas couldn’t stop galloping as fast as he could. All he could do was close his eyes, and hope that the pain would eventually go away like the town he left behind... "I… I didn’t have anything to live for… I had absolutely nothing…” Canvas didn't look up a single time as he recounted what happened, so he couldn’t have noticed Troy’s shock. Meanwhile, the gryphon could only sit with his beak and eyes wide open, looking completely mortified while his body trembled in disbelief. Even by gryphon standards, Troy knew that what happened to Canvas was beyond horrible. But as he heard his friend whimpering louder, Troy kept himself silent. Canvas pushed his head closer against his chest. "I just kept running. I knew I was hurting, but I didn't care! I just kept running until I couldn't move any more… I just wanted to get as far away as I could. I… I felt like…” Canvas winced painfully as he clenched his eyes shut, his teeth clenching tightly in apprehension. He knew he couldn’t keep it in; he could remember how horrible he felt when he galloped himself to exhaustion. Canvas’ hooves gripped Troy's back a little tighter. "I really felt like I wanted to die…” The moment those words came out, Troy couldn't hold it in any longer. Tears finally escaped his eyes, and he hugged Canvas tightly in both claws while shouting, "Don’t say that! Please, don’t ever say that again!" Canvas reopened his eyes when he heard the distress in his friend’s voice. "But… but, I--" "I know you were hurt!” Troy hugged him even tighter. “I know you've been through a lot, but please! Please don't say anything like that!" He could hear the pony's muffled sobs through his feathered chest, causing tears to continue streaming from Troy's eyes too. "Canvas, you're the best friend that I ever had! I can't imagine what I’d do if you weren't around. I… I can’t lose you." Troy dipped his head down so that the bottom of his chin rested firmly on top of Canvas' head. "Canvas, you're never going to be alone again. I swear, by everything that I hold dear, that I will always be here for you! You're my best friend, and you always will be! So please… please don't hold in anything like this again!" Canvas gripped him as tightly as ever, knowing what his friend was asking of him. After all these months of trying to keep everything dormant in the back of his mind, Canvas was now being asked to let it all go in his best friend’s embrace. The pony's body began to convulse as he tried to stop his sobbing. Meanwhile, Troy just held him, keeping his eyes closed and gently whispering into Canvas’ ear. "It's okay, Canvas. I'm here for you. Just… just let it out." Canvas’ hooves clasped the gryphon’s back, and he pushed his face as hard as he could against Troy's chest before he began bawling. After spending so long trying to move past the horrors that he’d experienced, Canvas never took a moment to vent out all the feelings that had been ruminating just underneath the surface. But now, with the closest friend he'd ever had by his side, Canvas was finally able to let it all go. Every ounce of sadness, frustration, devastation and pain bellowed out in an intense torrent of emotion as he cried out as loudly as possible. Even with his muzzle muffled through Troy's feathers, Canvas' cries still came out in deafening howls that shook the windows. As he sat on the floor and held Canvas through his heartbroken weeps, it didn’t take long for Troy to realize that he was crying as well. After learning how badly his friend was treated, and why Canvas looked the way he did before the storm, Troy couldn’t help sobbing alongside him. Nothing else seemed to matter in the destroyed studio as Canvas and Troy held each other in the darkness. Holding each other as close as they could through the pain. Troy couldn't tell how late it had gotten. Since he was sitting in the middle of the darkened aftermath of drying paint and broken boards, he couldn’t see the moon from the nearby window. All he could do was look down where Canvas laid on his lap, whose breathing coming out at a slow and resting pace. With the moonlight shining in through the windows, Troy could see the matted fur on Canvas' face where the tears had dried up. His eyes were still a little puffy while closed, something that made Troy feel even worse. It reminded Troy of how his eyes looked before that storm... When he was hurt… When his father… Troy clenched his eyes shut and shook his head. He put a claw to Canvas' face, and tried to calm himself down as he felt the smoothness of the stallion’s fur. He was grateful that the bruises and stitches were long gone, but the bitter remains of his tears still served as a temporary reminder. Troy tried not to wake the stallion, and carefully rubbed the matted fur smooth with a talon. Despite how tranquil Canvas looked as he dozed, Troy felt a heavy pressure in his gut when he thought about what Canvas went through. And even now, the gryphon felt like he was going to cry again if his thoughts went back to what Canvas said earlier. About his father. His bucking father... Troy felt a strong wave of anger hit him, and his beak gritted shut. His thoughts grew more agitated as he reflected on everything he had learned about his friend. How could somepony do something that horrible to their own son? If Troy never noticed him that fateful day, Canvas could've easily died alone in that field with nothing to his name. Troy held the sleeping pony closer to his chest, silently vowing to hurt the bastard who did that to him. Hell, if he wasn’t so concerned about the state of his friend, he’d likely make an overnight flight straight to Gallop Creek to beat Copper to a bloody pulp.  Before his rage could build up any more, Troy felt a sharp pain in his back. He'd been sitting in an uncomfortable position for hours. The gryphon groaned silently while rubbing the small of his back with a claw. Looking behind him, Troy quickly took notice of Canvas' loft above the wall. He knew it would be tricky to move the stallion without disturbing his rest, but he certainly wasn’t going to leave him sleeping in the middle of his trashed studio. Troy lifted himself up slowly, trying to keep the stallion’s head rested on his shoulder like a sleeping foal. Since the room was already in bad shape anyway, Troy knew a little breeze wouldn't do much more damage; so even as scraps of paper flew around the studio thanks to his gusting wings, Troy quickly flew up above the wall and glided over to Canvas' bed. After landing on his hind legs, Troy tried to walk bipedally as he carried Canvas to the bed. Once he was close enough, he carefully lowered Canvas' body to the mattress. However, while still asleep, Canvas' forelegs wrapped around Troy’s neck to hold him closer. He let out a quiet whimper when Troy tried to let him go, which caused the gryphon to stand for a moment with a look of realization. The idea felt a little weird, but Troy wasn’t one to relent. Troy slowly lowered himself into the bed, keeping Canvas securely nestled around his forelegs. Troy rested his head on the pillow, but couldn’t get himself under the covers. Since the pony was still asleep, Troy could only blush when he felt Canvas nuzzling against his feathered neck. His heart raced from such an unexpected gesture, but he was too tired to think of pulling himself up from the bed. Instead, he tried to settle in while his claws rested soundlessly against the stallion’s back. Troy wasn’t sure if it was because of his own exhaustion, the worries he felt regarding his friend’s emotional state, or just how comfortable the mattress felt underneath his and Canvas’ shared weight; but either way, the gryphon couldn’t deny that in that moment, he didn’t want to leave Canvas’ place to go back home. When Canvas nuzzled his neck again, he didn’t seem to care all of a sudden. Rather, Troy slowly closed his eyes, and gave a brief nuzzle of his beak against the pony’s mane. He eventually grew a more contented smile as he nestled himself closer to Canvas, joining him for some much needed rest. After all the chaos that happened that night, everything became calm and silent as Canvas and Troy dozed off in each other's embrace. And in those brief couple of hours before morning could come, the stallion and gryphon were both able to sleep soundlessly.