A blue pegasus slowly walked towards the hospital of Ponyville, mumbling to himself. The streets were all empty, except for a few night guards, but they didn’t bother the disguised changeling, nor did he pay attention to any of them.
“I’ll just say sorry... No, that would seem like I have done something bad.” Thorax told to himself, thinking out loud. “I’ll just wait for him to say something. But what if he won’t say a thing?”
The pegasus reached the entry of the building, stopping for a second.
“Oh, shoot, I’ll just punch him in the face and then apologize!” Thorax said, upon opening the door, where he met his brother just passing by.
After an eternal silence, where both changelings looked at each other with shocked faces, Thorax managed to move his mouth.
“Well... this is awkward,” Zaffre said.
“Indeed,” Lancet agreed, frozen in place.
The two changelings were staring at each other, both unsure what to say. Zaffre fought the urge to make his brother choke on his own hind hooves, while Lancet tried to find a way to explain himself. The silence however was broken by a third voice.
“Excuse me, Mr. Lancet, do you know where Nurse Redheart is?” Nurse Tenderheart appeared out of a nearby office.
“Of course. She is with a patient, and wishes to remain undisturbed,” Shiftlight lied fluently. “She asked me to bring a vial of Metamizol for her, but I should be returning by now. Is the matter urgent?”
“No, of course not, just a couple of papers need signing, that’s all!” Tenderheart replied with a smile. “I’ll just leave it on her desk.”
“I’ll be sure to pass the message.” Lancet nodded, taking some medicine from a nearby cupboard. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my brother and I have some things to talk about. Zaffre, I’m a little bit short on time right now, but if you’d accompany me, we can talk for a while.”
Thorax nodded, and followed his brother, confused. Shiftlight walked until they were out of hearing distance, and then suddenly turned around and hugged his brother. Zaffre blushed, and became more confused than ever before. After a moment of silence, he managed to blurt a few words.
“What the... I mean, Lancet! Get off for cricket’s sake!”
“Sorry,” Lancet apologized. “I just... thought this was the most fitting way to show my gratitude that you have actually returned, and managed to stop yourself from smashing my face when you saw me!”
“I’m still tempted to do so,” the other said. “So, our brother needs some medicine?”
“Oh these? These are for – oh ancestors!”
Shiftlight turned around in a hurry, and darted towards the end of the corridor. Zaffre followed him not a moment too soon, and after a short gallop they were right in front of the well known door of Lancet’s room. To the shock of Thorax from behind the door came loud moaning and the voice of a female pony filled with...
“Is Lime trying to seduce Redheart, or what?” Zaffre asked, confused.
“I fear this may not be the case!” his brother replied, and carefully opened the door.
What they expected was nowhere near to what their eyes met. Lime was tied up completely with the bed sheets, an annoyed expression on his face. A chair was next to him, with Redheart lying on it, whispering seductively into the ear of the changeling.
“...and then I’m going to tie you to the bed... wait I think I already told you this part, didn’t I?” she asked, tapping a chin to her hoof.
“Yes, you did,” Buzzer growled, and then noticed his brothers peeking through the open door. “Took your sweet little time! Would it kill you to help me already?!”
“I’m currently occupied trying to understand what’s happening here,” Thorax said, as Shiftlight rushed in, grabbed Redheart and lay her gently on the bed, preparing to give her the medicine.
“I’ll tell you what’s happening here: I’m being molested by a pony, that’s what!” Lime barked, while the nurse got injected.
“Be glad that I’m not like Celestia on her bad days,” Redheart said, giggling on the bed, as Lancet untied the knots, freeing his smallest brother.
“After what you told me, I thought you would enjoy it,” Shiftlight jested, which earned another growl from Lime.
“So you told him?” Zaffre asked, and Buzzer nodded. “Bold move.”
“Desperate times,” he replied. “But all turned out well.”
“Yeah, except that you still have to figure out how to manage the whole ‘dating a pony’ thing.”
“Wait, you’re going on a date with her?” Lancet snapped suddenly, which caused Lime to lay his ears back. “I thought you were joking with the whole ‘loving her’ thing!”
“I thought you believed me!” Buzzer whined.
“I thought we were on good terms now!” Zaffre added stepping between the two.
“I thought we were going to... you know...” Redheart moaned in the middle of her feverish dream.
“Oh, yeah, just saying; she has the hots for you Lancet.” Lime announced to Shiftlight.
“Oh, I do have the hots for that fine chitin flank!” the sick nurse reached out and slapped the hindquarters of the tall changeling with a hoof.
The trio stood there in awkward silence, while the mare in the room kept giggling like a filly.
“Let’s just not talk about this for a few days, all right?” Lancet suggested, and surprisingly all of them agreed.
Soon Thorax and Buzzer blurted out a short excuse to leave the pair alone, and both went their own separate ways. Although they could put their roughest night so far behind, they all felt that the future held much more trouble for them.
Buzzer arrived back at Sugarcube Corner an hour before opening. Both Mr. and Mrs. Cake were up and about, performing their morning duties; which consisted of feeding and bathing the twin foals. Meanwhile Pinkie happily bounced around, bringing out the freshly baked goods from the kitchen. Lime apologized for his disappearance, and immediately got to work. After all, on his previous workdays he barely managed to do anything; he felt he had to do a lot to make up for it.
Luckily, the Cakes decided to take the twins out for a picnic to the main park of Ponyville, and the shop wouldn’t open up until noon, so Lime remained all alone with Pinkie. Unluckily that would’ve only happened, if Pinkie wouldn’t have invited over some of her small friends.
“Cutie Mark Crusader Party Throwers!” Lime heard the yell from the doorway.
In the said entry stood three small foals with red badly stitched capes, and voices so high pitched that Buzzer was really tempted to just rip off his own ears and save the trouble of going deaf from listening to the fillies for five more seconds. Instead, he just simply grabbed two muffins and plugged them into his ears under his disguise. Not the best muffler, but it didn’t stick out from under his masquerade, and he was still able to make out the important part of the conversation.
“Hello, girls! Are you ready to prepare some fun?” Pinkie asked in her usual cheerful tone, jumping around.
“We’re not quite sure we get what you want us to do.” the yellow earth pony of the group said.
“I hope it’s not like last time, when she made us listen to her life story!” the other member, an orange pegasus murmured.
“Oh, cheer up Scoots, I’m sure we’ll be fine!” the third, a white unicorn with light purple-pink mane added. “Besides, don’t you want to earn your cutie mark?”
“Gee, if I’m gonna get my mark in listening to something, at least let it be something cool, like rock or metal.” Scootaloo replied.
“Now why would you wanna listen to a boulder?” the earth pony filly asked.
“Well, back on the rock farm, my pa’ swore he could hear the gems grow inside the stones!” Pinkie giggled.
The four ponies continued to chat, ignoring the changeling in the room, who gladly hid behind the counter, to wait for the fillies to leave. He managed to figure out from fragments of the conversation that the trio of foals wanted to get their blank flanks filled with some image that decides their future. Of course Buzzer knew about cutie marks, but he never truly understood the fuss about it. Changelings were usually multifunctional: just because he excelled at being an infiltrator, didn’t mean he was never assigned to mop up the floor of the queen’s chamber. Come to think of it, he mopped it up more times than anyling else.
“Lime!” Pinkie’s cheerful face frightened the changeling out of his daydreams. “You think you can bake the cookies I prepared?”
“Sure can do!” He replied with a reassuring smile. “You can leave the shop to me, I don’t have anything planned for today!”
“Oki-doki-loki!” Pinkie chirped, and grabbed her luggage in her mouth. “Come on girls; let’s throw a Happy-two-days-until-your-birthday party for Ambrosia!”
“Who’s Ambrosia?” the small white unicorn asked.
“A sweet pony, who helped us rebuild Sugarcube Corner once,” Pinkie explained, leaving the shop, “and the town hall once, and the...
As the mare’s voice faded away Buzzer slowly returned to his own thoughts. His ears started to itch, and he realized he still had the muffins stuck inside them. He unplugged them, looked around, and tossed them in a can.
The changeling could now look forward to a hopefully uneventful day.
Zaffre had a rough morning. He had to take a bunch of foals to Miss Cheerilee’s weekend classes, which she voluntarily held for the foals, do the shopping; return in time to cook the lunch; and realize that he forgot to clean the dishes after breakfast.
The changeling soon came to appreciate how easy his life at the hive had been. When he was caring for the larvae, he only had to feed the nymphs, clean up after them, teach them to obey the hive’s laws. Here, he had to clean up every room, do the dishes, cook, lead the foals around, be nice to them, play with them, read them bedtime stories, and sometimes wake up in the middle of the night to help them with some small problem, like the monsters under their beds.
Well, at least it’s way more rewarding, he thought. Barely ever did I have access to this nearly unlimited source of love.
He was currently putting the plates back in the cupboards. He thought about locking the doors and using his magic to liberate himself from the burdens of such a menial task, but decided otherwise when he heard gentle hoofsteps from behind him. Looking in the direction of the sound, he saw Madame Tender enter the kitchen.
“Dear Celestia, what are you doing here all alone?” Zaffre asked shocked, helping the blind mare to find a seat for herself. “You could’ve just sent somepony to warn me that you needed help.”
“Oh hush dear, I’m more than confident that I can find my way around in this old mansion with my eyes closed,” the lady jested, while sitting down. “Besides, Dandelion is attending the weekend class, and almost every foal is enjoying this beautiful weather. Why I myself pushed my rocking chair out onto the balcony to enjoy the warm blessing of Celestia.”
“Are you this unobliging with every other pony too?” Thorax asked with a sigh, returning to his menial tasks. “I thought we agreed on letting me help.”
“And you fulfilled that to the letter.” Madame Tender replied. “You have no idea, how relaxing it is to not worry about finding me a set of eyes that thinks the same way I do.”
“But you still... lack the sight of a normal pony,” Zaffre replied in a low tone.
“I know. But life doesn’t always gives you what you ask for, does it now?”
“True enough,” Thorax said, tapping a hoof to his chin. “Still I would be more confident if you would give me the opportunity of helping you.I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I would feel a lot calmer if a pony that lacks a good set of eyes would –”
“Boy I lack more than just my sight!” The mare snapped, bringing her hoof down on the table heavily. “I lost my parents to a fire, and I never ever got to see them with my own eyes! I fear any fire, be that a dragon’s fire, or a stove’s fire! And now there are more foals under my responsibility because of the ruckus in Canterlot, caused by bugs that can engulf themselves in green fire, and come out as ponies on the other side!”
Zaffre took a few steps backwards at the outburst of the mare, considering to run for his life before they find out what he really is. If she knew, Thorax was sure that the old mare would try to tear him apart herself.
“I devoted my life to give other foals a second chance, to give everypony a second chance, to have a family,” she said, huffing from exhaustion. “Make no mistake: I fear fire. But fire comes from hatred, and not from fear; if one can give up hatred, they have a chance to be welcomed in someone’s family.”
How come someone, who is blind, knows more about life than we, who have healthy eyes? Thorax meditated. Maybe I misjudged these creatures; maybe there is more to them than just gathering food. Speaking of which, I have a meal to prepare.
With that the changeling quietly returned to his task at hoof; to prepare a fitting meal for a bunch of hungry foals.
Lancet never wanted to wake up. Well, at least not to this. Surely, sleeping a bed with a mare was more than an established custom for the changelings, but then again those mares never had a clue that they were sleeping in the same bed as a changeling. Now, close to noon, when Shiftlight woke up, he found himself lying on his side, hugging the only mare he hoped he would never find between his hooves.
Because in his gentle grasp lay the most savage mare he ever knew; Nurse Redheart. The changeling couldn’t really remember how they got in this position, or whether anything extraordinary happened, but he truly hoped that Redheart was a sound sleeper, and wouldn’t reproach this to him later. He tried to pull out his holey hoof out from under the pony, when she grabbed it with a firm grasp.
“Should I even ask?” she inquired in a low tone.
“Maybe not?” Shiftlight asked back, with a soft whine.
She sighed in reply, then let go of the shifter, rolled onto her other side, and kicked him out of the bed. Shiftlight hit the opposite wall of the room, and landed on the floor with a loud thud. The mare just yawned and covered herself with the bed sheets, while Shiftlight sat up, rubbing his sore back. The somewhat peaceful moment soon passed, as the door opened and Nurse Tenderheart popped her head in through the hole.
“Oh, sorry, I never intended to disturb anything,” she apologized, raising a hoof to cover her obvious grin. “Nurse Redheart, there is a matter needing your attention.”
“Can someone armed with knowledge like mine handle it?” Redheart asked back with a groan.
“Well, yes, someone could, but –” Tenderheart started, but the other mare cut her off.
“Lancet, see to it that the patient receives full medical attention.” The shifter’s jaws dropped. “Otherwise you’re fired.”
“I hear that threat way too often,” Shiftlight remarked, standing up, and turning to the other nurse. “Lead the way, and share the details with me please.”
The two of them left Redheart alone in the room, who rolled onto her other side, and tried to fall asleep again. Her brain however had other ideas, as it came up with the most confusing and pleasant thoughts ever. She had hollow memories of the three changelings united again, but that was all fuzzy, and it could’ve well been a feverish dream. But Lancet returned to her, which was a surprise, and it pleased her. Although she felt a bit sick, and combined with her heat it may have caused her to act well beyond the boundaries of rational behavior.
Well in the end it all added up to one thing: Lancet, anypony or anyling must never know how soft she really was inside. Or, that she fell in love with Lancet once she got a first glance at the real him.
Even now, she could barely keep her mind off of that fine chitin flank.
Why? Lancet asked of himself, for at least the twentieth time on that day. Why did I have to choose the idiotic earth pony form? A unicorn would’ve done fine, and even as a pegasus I could’ve passed as an emergency stretcher-bearer. Why did I pick the ancestors damned earth pony?
With these thoughts, he asked the helping nurses to hold his next patient down, while he tried to align the broken bone in a good position. Of course, he accidentally forgot to inject this pony with painkillers, mostly to learn his rich vocabulary of dirty words. Who knows when such knowledge might come in handy. He already treated three patients with fever, two with sprained joints, one was just plainly a drama queen, and several just came for the prescription of their usual medicine or a checkup.
“You mare-bucking pitiful excuse of a charlatan!” the stallion patient swore, as his fractured bone finally popped into place. “I’ll make you eat your own medicine you mother –”
“Sir that’s quite enough of that, thank you!” Nurse Tender replied in a harsh tone. “I’m sorry that you have to live through this, but maybe next time you won’t be as careless as to fall of the stairs.”
“Or you won’t be as drunk,” Shiftlight murmured, letting go of the old stallion. “You smell like a liquor shop.”
“I have my own right to enjoy some beverage now and then, don’t I?”
“Suit yourself. Last time I drank, I almost lost my brothers,” Lancet retorted.
The old pony just looked at his broken hoof, and kept his mouth shut. Shiftlight then proceeded to put the fractured limb in a brace, and moved on, to see to the needs of the next patient. The job was anything but dull, he had to admit it, and the occasional smile of the foals, and the grateful hugs of either the parents or the patients made it more than bearable.
Maybe Redheart didn’t seem too nice at first, but the changeling thought her heart was mostly in the right place.
But sometimes he wished it would’ve been in a jar on a shelf.