Sanity was something he was aware he had very little of left. He knew he was immensely paranoid, but he was trying to fix that. He had become trusting and actually cared more than a little for many. But...what little sanity did he have left? Was this him losing it? Was he going crazy? He sank back into the water, closing his eyes a moment. But when he opened his eyes, the words were still there. He came up from under the water and shook his head. “Damn it...not now...keep it together...”
When he opened his eyes once more, they were gone. In their place his head felt as though it were going to split open. His hooves went to his head, as if he could hold in his sanity. He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. Was this a panic attack? His heart was racing. “What have I done?”
He shuddered and stared around the empty room. Now the crystals were shifting and moving under their surface. Suddenly it clicked. “That damned heart...” he murmured. “That has to be it...there...there...” He took a deep breath. “I am not going crazy.”
“How would you be able to tell?” Copper remained stock still, his eyes running over the room. “What is sanity? How do you know when you have lost it? I do believe I have lost it...” He covered his mouth, trying to make sure he was not the one speaking. “Did I ever have it? I do not know...”
Copper got out of the bath slowly. Very slowly. His eyes wandered around the room as he did. “Who is there?”
There was quite a lot of silence before he finally got a response. “Who is where?”
He thought a moment, trying to work out better wording...or perhaps a different question. “What are you and where are you?” Was the voice in his head? He had had voices in his head before, not of his own choice. That thought made him feel like he was already crazy.
Again there was a very long pause, before it spoke again. “I am what's left.” Copper had to stare at the wall to be able to see it, but as he read them they seemed to speak aloud at the same time.
“You are words...within the crystal?” It was odd, the voice seemed to come from the wall where the words were...carved? No...cracked. The words cracked themselves inside the wall and then slowly healed.
There was no response for a long time and then it spoke again. “Am I insane?”
“I...do not know...” Copper said carefully, “I don't know what you are...”
“I am what is left,” it said again, seeming to have established that at least that.
Copper looked around, the cracks seemed to follow his gaze. From the hallway, he heard somepony shout, “Lesser of two evils?!” Apparently Shining Armor was still having difficulties understanding.
“Yes...” he muttered, “You said that... Left of what?” He could guess at this point, but he would like it to be confirmed.
It was almost a minute before the words came back. “I am what is left.”
Perhaps it could not comprehend the question? It seemed so basic...not quite child like, but it was as if it was broken. “Cracked...” He sighed and shook his head. “Why can I hear you?” He closed his eyes, wondering if he could hear it without seeing it.
Again, silence. “You touched the heart,” it said. He could see the cracks through his eyelids.
But touching the heart...others had done that, hadn't they? Hadn't several ponies done that? But...none of them had had the reaction that he did. Did he do something? “Yes...I touched the heart...but-”
“You let me out.”
He opened his eyes and stared at the words cracked in the wall, as they slowly closed once more. “I...you were trapped? Within the Crystal Heart?”
There was silence again and Copper moved towards the towels, deciding he did not want to stand there wet any longer. “I was not trapped,” the words seemed to be clearer, “You came and got me,” louder. “I was safe. There was no reason to leave.”
“And now? Now there is reason?” He began drying himself off; he felt quite calmer now, glad that he was not losing what little sanity he had left.
“Yes. Reason,” suddenly it's words became twisted and frenzied, “many reasons. Power. Control. Regret. Guilt. Pain. Fear.” Those were the only words he could make out in the frenzy that now covered the wall, overlapping as if it were trying to scream a thousand words all at once.
“Right! Right! Stop!” He closed his eyes tight, pressing his hooves to them so hard that he saw bursts of light. It seemed to work to a point and block out the words or at least began drowning them out. “Enough!” He took deep breaths as his headache was getting worse. But it finally seemed to calm down, as the echoes faded away. He did not open his eyes until the headache faded. But his heart continued to beat hard. Faster. The headache was suddenly replaced by fear.
~
He opened his eyes and stared at the cloaked figure who was approaching him. Them. Scootaloo was there, too. Scootaloo... “Copper...are you all right?” Could she not feel it? No...this was something that was based purely on instinct. This body knew of fear. It knew of horrors.
“Get behind me,” he said, staring at the figure. He saw the glint of something beneath the cloak. Something was immensely off. Everything about the figure seemed wrong, especially the way it moved. He could hear the shuffle of Scootaloo moving and she gripped his jacket.
Sometimes he forgot that she was still young. This was important. This very moment. She was important... He pushed her backwards off of him, as the figure lunged. The glint had been a knife, as he had thought. Or more of a dagger judging by its length. It was good that he had seen it coming, though he had been expecting a knife and that misjudgment let it nick his left side. Immediately he felt the heat of blood. Perhaps it was more than a nick. Now he saw under the hood and it put him in mind of long ago...a masquerade ball...but there was no time to admire it as it slashed upwards. This time, it missed. “Copper!” Scootaloo was somewhere behind him.
He needed to stay between it and her. Why were they wearing a mask? It swiped again, it was clumsy with it, using large hesitant swipes. “Move back, Scoot-” again the dagger swiped past and he had to duck to avoid it. Where was she? He couldn't chance to look back, but she had to be moving away.
This was not going in his favor. Whoever this was, they were fast and his coat and shirt had quite a lot of nicks in it already. The blade was getting closer. “Copper! What do I do?!” Scootaloo was in a panic. Again Copper had to position himself between his attacker and her... Was it going after her? He risked a glance back and regretted it immediately as the blade buried into his left shoulder. “Copper!”
There was an ease of tension in the attackers arm and Copper took advantage. “Bad move,” he said, surprised at his own calmness, as he grabbed hold of their wrist. He held the dagger in place and swung his fist. That was a mistake as well. It was like punching a...well, something very hard. It was more a helmet than a mask. But at the very least, it disoriented the figure, giving Copper enough time to, as he ignored the pain, strike a blow to it's stomach. Pain again. A full suit of armor? He grabbed hold of his attacker’s waist and released the wrist to grab their shoulder. He was mildly surprised at the strength of this body, but with all the adrenaline pumping through him now he could probably lift a car. And they were surprisingly light.
He slammed them down on their head in what could only be described as a sort of suplex. And he had an odd sort of satisfaction at the noise they made as they hit the ground. A mixture of metal and crunching. The dagger slipped from his shoulder as he stood back up, leaving a rather bigger slice on its way out. His hand immediately shot to it to stifle the bleeding. “Copper...” Scootaloo was still there.
“Can't pass out over a little knife wound...” he muttered as he kicked open the cloak. They were indeed armored. Made out of armor it seemed.
“It's...it's a ...” He looked at her a moment. “It's a clockwork!” She pointed, her hand shaking. “Th-those! Those are illegal!” She was shaking, stepping backwards. “Oh...oh god...this...this...I...” She looked at him, her eyes widening. “C-Copper...”
He waved his left hand vaguely and looked back down at the...clockwork. “It's some sort of machine, right?” It was not moving now; he was fairly sure that he had broken it.
“Y-yes...but...but they're illegal here in the states. You have to go to Europe to even see some of them...and I've...I've never heard of one move like that...their movements are...they...they jerk around...” She was blabbering now.
Was it after her? Or was it after him? Or were they simply in the wrong place at the wrong time... “Do we have bandages back at the office?” he said, as he tore large strips from his shirt. Apparently he had done this before, because the movement seemed familiar.
“Yes,” she said, taking deep breaths. At least she knew how to calm herself down. Copper had to admire her a bit. She had a lot of qualities that made her sensible. She was just a little panicked now.
“Good.” He grabbed the clockwork by the wrist and began walking, dragging it behind him. He took the time to look and saw that the dagger was in fact attached to its wrist.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, coming up beside him. “You...look, you don't know...but it's a serious offense to have a clockwork here. Like, death sentence serious.”
“Why?” he said, looking at her and then around them, making sure no one was around. He did not want to get into that kind of trouble, but there was no way he was going to leave this on the street.
“I...I don't know. They just are. It's some law that was passed a while ago. You can't even have them on airships.” She was looking back and forth between him and it. “Just...just leave it.”
“It'll be fine,” he said, giving her a smile. “I promise. Nothing's going to happen. I just need to find out why it came after us, all right?”
“You promise, huh?” She folded her arms in front of her. “The good old Copper Promise?”
He stopped and looked at her. “I keep my promises. The past Copper is no longer here.”
Several moments of silence past as they continued, before she looked at him. “You punched a clockwork,” she said, staring at him.
“I did.” Surprisingly it wasn't very heavy. Perhaps about the same weight as Scootaloo, if not lighter. He wondered what it was made out of.
“Twice,” she continued, still staring at him.
“I did,” he said, glancing at her and then at the clockwork he was dragging. It was making a fair bit of noise, but it would be making more if not for the cloak.
A car passed ahead of them in the distance and it caused Scootaloo to hesitate. “And then-”
“Then I slammed it into the ground,” Copper said, giving a slight smile. “Now, c'mon. We need to get back to the office.”
“Where'd you learn that move?” she said, moving up beside him.
“Saw it in a movie.”
~
“Done this before, hm?” Copper said, watching as Scootaloo sewed shut the large gash in his shoulder.
“Yes. I have,” she murmured. Obviously she was trying to focus. “Though never on you...but you're extremely lucky. It only nicked the bone. We still should have gone to the hospital...” She bit her tongue as she leaned in closer. It had been a rough hour for the both of them and Copper was sure he was close to bleeding out, judging from how woozy he felt.
“Oddly thin knife...” he said, looking at the clockwork, which had been left on the floor by the door. It would need to be thoroughly examined.
“Any idea who sent it?” Scootaloo muttered as she tied off the last bit.
“No one...unless I have any enemies you haven't told me about...ones with these kinds of resources would be more than a little important to mention.”
She began wrapping him in bandages. “None that I know of. But I really don't know...well...any of your enemies.” She leaned back in her chair once she was done.
Copper looked at her, then at the pile of bloody rags and bandages beside her. He turned his gaze back to her and took a deep breath. “Thank you...” She stared at him. “What? I'm not allowed to say thank you?”
Slowly she smiled at him and nodded. “Nope.”
He laughed, which unsurprisingly hurt slightly. “All right. Fine.” He looked around the room a moment and then at the clockwork. “I do believe it's time to get to work,” he said as he stood up.
“Yeah, you do that. I, am going to sleep.” She stood up as well and went to the washroom, coming back a few minutes later, cleaned up and wearing a similar, although slightly different outfit. “Uhm...” Copper had picked the clockwork up and moved to his desk. He could feel Scootaloo watching him as he sat it down and looked it over. “Would it be all right if I slept here?”
He laid it upon the desk almost gently. “I don't see why not...” Next, he pulled out his gun and holster, affixing it. It hurt a bit in some places where it overlapped his new wounds. “Don't have anywhere to be, do you?”
She shook her head as she moved over to what Copper had once thought was a closet and let the bed once again fall out. “No. I don't...” She turned back towards him and looked like she was going to say something, but instead took a deep breath. She shook her head. “Try and keep it down, all right?”
A smile crept onto his face and he nodded. “Don't worry. I don't plan to bang anything around right now.”
“All right,” she said as she crawled under the covers. But then her head immediately came back out. “Are you gonna be here when I wake up?”
Something stirred inside him. Something deep within the recesses of this body’s memory. It was a swelling feeling, enough to cause him to hesitate. But he nodded and the words he spoke felt familiar. “I'm not going anywhere.”
She seemed satisfied with that. “Goodnight,” she said as she laid back down.
Copper stared at her a moment longer, before turning back to the clockwork. It was wrapped up, or tangled up in the cloak at this point. “Now then...let's see what we have here.” He tore the cloak until it was nothing but the clockwork upon the table. He stared at it a moment and then quickly grabbed paper and a pencil. “Obviously a machine...based upon a female figure...” he muttered, writing several things on the paper: height, approximate weight, color, basic shape, how annoying writing with a pencil was. He lifted the wrist up from the table and examined the dagger. It was attached, or more accurately, it was embedded. Retractable by the look of it...and it only took a moment of fiddling with it before it withdrew with a shnickt.
~
A knock on the door snapped him from his thoughts. He stared at the door, gun drawn. A few seconds passed before there was another knock. “Copper! It's Corser. Are you in there?” Another knock, more a pounding. It sounded almost desperate. Panicked.
Copper moved slowly to the door and cracked it open slightly, ready with his gun. It was indeed Corser. “Yes?”
Corser forced the door open and froze as it was immediately replaced with a gun. “Whoa. Copper.” He put his hands up immediately. “What the hell happened to you?”
“The usual. I am not in the mood for any lectures at the moment.” Copper was surprised that despite everything, he could hold the gun so steady.
“Easy Copper...” Corser took a step back. “Look. Sorry. But...look. Police found blood and signs of a struggle a block outside The Cat’s Cradle and Don Burrasca claims no knowledge of what happened. I knew you had been in the area...I was thinking you might know what happened and it looks like you do.”
He stared at Corser a moment, before lowering the gun. “Yes. Someone tried to kill me... I'm more than a little on edge.” He glanced both ways down the hallway, before moving out of the way.
Corser moved in slowly, watching Copper as he holstered his gun and shut the door behind him. “Ok, I understand the hostility, but Copper, we've been-” he froze, seeing what was on the table. “Copper, what the hell is that?”
“It's what tried to kill me,” he said as he moved back to it and went back to his examination. He glanced at Scootaloo, who despite Corser's poinding on the door, was still asleep. Though she had shifted into a different position. Corser went to say something, but Copper held up his hand. “I said I am not in the mood for a lecture. I know it's illegal. But someone tried to kill me,” he paused a, “and Scootaloo.” He looked at Corser, who was standing very still. “I intend to find out who.”
“Copper...this...I...this is bad Copper. First Don Burrasca, now a clockwork...this is getting out of hand. You should have called the police. You should be in the hospital...you...” It seemed that words were failing him.
But Copper simply stared at him. This Corser was a lot different than the one he knew. Where was his resolve? His determination? “And what would that have done, Corser?” He shifted some of the pieces around that he had removed. He was looking for some sort of signature. Some sort of lead... He did it on his creations, because Horsh had always done it...he had said that's how it was done...but it could be as simple as a few scratches on some plate... When Corser did not answer, he looked up.
It seemed Copper's gaze was enough to get him going again. “Copper...this...this...what do you think you're doing?” he sounded exasperated at this point.
“I am only going to say one final time.” He pulled something out slowly; it was an entire device. Some sort of...Copper could only describe it as its heart. It had been in roughly the correct spot. The clockwork was steam powered, with two boilers roughly in the place of where lungs should be. The fire was still going. Somepony had based this heavily on this world’s pony anatomy, which from the little he knew had several similarities to the other world’s. “Do not lecture me. You were saying we're friends...and if that's true, I know you're not going to turn me in.”
“I'm saying this because we're friends, Copper. You put your career on the line to vouch for me when I got out of the army. I wouldn't be here without you...but...” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “All right. Copper...what are you doing?”
“I am trying to find a creator’s mark,” he said examining the heart. It was exquisitely designed and elegant. It actually pumped oil throughout the clockwork. Beautiful.
“Since...since when do you know so much about machines?” Corser said; apparently his curiosity was piqued now and he was looking inside the thing that laid on the table.
“Long story,” Copper said, avoiding the subject. But the thought struck him that he did like Corser. He was his friend. “I'll tell you about it sometime...but whoever did this...completely beyond my skill...”
“Does it...does it work?” Corser was hovering a distance away.
“Not right now...I could...maybe fix it? If I wanted to...” He rubbed his hand slightly. He had dented its head and face, as well as its stomach. It was built to be fast, not to take a hit. “I busted it up pretty thoroughly...” He had not thought of repairing it...
“If you did...you could ask it. I've heard of some clockwork that could talk...”
“Probably just pre-recorded responses,” Copper said as he fiddled with the heart. It had no markings. Every surface, gear and pipe; they were all flawless. The only marks were on the outside, from the scuffle and being dragged. He placed the heart down on the table. “But a good idea...probably would be recorded with the name of its creator...”
“Don't do it while I'm here. Clockwork are illegal, but a broken one is less of an offense. I...I think I can overlook it considering the circumstances...” He seemed to have calmed down quite a lot. “Copper, I'm worried about you. So are a lot of people at the precinct. The things you're doing...”
There was a short silence. “I'm not worried about that.”
He frowned. “What are you worried about then, Copper? What worries you? What the hell are you doing with yourself? I mean, I'm glad you're not drinking anymore, but...it's like you have some sort of death wish.”
Copper stared inside the clockwork. It was the kind of stuff he wished he had the skill to do. “What am I worried about...” he said softly, searching his own mind. “Here, I worry about Scootaloo.”
His frown deepened. “Why do you even bother with that girl. She's a criminal, Copper. She was going to-”
“Stop,” Copper said, glaring at him. “If you want to keep considering me as a friend, you are going to stop talking that way about her.” Corser fell silent and for several minutes as he stood there, watching Copper continue his examination. “Was there anything else you wanted?” He was starting to become annoyed at the way that he was just standing there, staring at him.
“I...” he hesitated and then sighed. “No. I can see you're quite content in whatever little world you seem to be in, so I'll just leave.” With that he turned away.
A thought suddenly struck him as he stood there. Something caused his wing to twitch and he knew this would probably be his only chance. “Corser. How did I lose my wing?”
Corser paused a moment at the door. “You never told me the details. You know that.” He did not turn as he spoke.
“What did I tell you?”
Now he turned to look at him. But he decided to humor him. “It was during the bombing of London. You and your squad were dropped in to assist when the Germans were invading. When they started to lose the battle, they bombed the city.”
“Bombed...the city...” The news of Manehatten ran through his head as Corser shut the door. A little louder than he should have. “What has been happening in this world...”
“It was World War II.” Copper had not heard her get up, but he stared at Scootaloo now. “Sorry...I forget that you're going through this whole...memory thing. It just ended six years ago, but the bombing of London he was talking about was eleven years ago. I...” She folded her arms, staring at the floor. “Burrasca said I was there during the bombing...but I don't remember any of it...” She looked up at him and it clicked.
~
“Are you gonna be here when I wake up?” Copper brushed soot from the face of the little filly in his arms.
“I'm not going anywhere...not without you,” he said softly and watched as she closed her eyes. How long had he been knocked out? He stared across the street at the building he and his squad had been in, or to be more accurate the rubble that was left of it. She had woken him up after he had passed out inside this other building. His eyes wandered to the blood streak that he had made as he dragged himself out of the street and into the cover of the building.
His wing was gone and he knew it was bleeding badly. But this was easily fixed. After all, there was a lot of things on fire. He didn't even scream as he set fire to his wound. Now that was one problem out of the way and since he wasn't going to bleed out, he needed to get out. He looked down at her again. She was a bit bruised, but she was in a lot better shape than him. Who had left her alone? It was an odd thought to have. Why had he no concern over himself? He shifted against the wall and used it to push himself to his feet.
There was still screaming, cut off by explosions, far in the distance. They were still bombing the city. His movements were clumsy, but eventually he made it to the window, looking out into what was left of the street. He heard part of the building crumble and moved through the doorway out into the street. There were a lot of things on fire. But there were no ponies around. The streets were empty, except for those who could no longer run. It was good that she was asleep. No child should see something like this.
Clumsily he moved down the street, taking his time. There was no rush at this point. There was no place he was going. He was just walking for the sake of walking at this point. Something to do. The slow breathing of the little filly was...comforting... Another building collapsed, but he could not hear bombs anymore and the screaming seemed so far away. But screaming meant living ponies... Hopefully they would be alive when he arrived.
The last thing he had expected was the car that came slowly around the corner a few blocks ahead. He went to call out, but the soot, smoke and pain kept his voice locked away. But the driver had seen them and several ponies and griffons got out of the car and ran towards him. His legs gave out a bit and he almost stumbled, but he recovered and kept walking.
“American!” somepony in the group called out. “Are you all right?!”
He did his best to clear his throat and tried to swallow down the soot that caked his mouth. “What a stupid question,” was what he managed to say when they got close. “Water.” He shifted the little filly, so that he could grab the canteen that was handed to him and he gulped down half of it. “Wake up, little filly,” he said, shaking her gently awake. Her eyes opened slowly, large and glistening. She drank from the canteen as best she could, spilling quite a bit. When he looked up, he noticed the crowd that had been following the car. His shirt shifted as the filly gripped onto him and settled back to sleep. “What's been happening?”
“Germans,” somepony beside him said. “They were given the order to retreat. Last broadcast was a ten minute warning. Less than a minute later, the bombs started.”
“They bombed their own troops,” the griffon driving said. Something about the way he looked at Copper gave him the impression that he had taken charge. “You're the first American we've found alive.”
“Any Germans?” he said, before drinking more from the canteen.
“We put a bullet in them,” somepony in the back of the car said. There was well over fifty ponies and a few griffons in the group behind the car.
He leaned against the car, taking a deep breath. “God...what happened to you?” Some woman was behind him and he saw an entirely brown pony. A sort of...chestnut brown.
“The building I was in exploded,” he said, trying to keep his breathing regular, which wasn't easy. “I was lucky and got blown out a window, I think...” He watched as everyone's gaze went slowly to the filly in his arms. “Then I found her. Or...well, she found me.” He had to admit to himself, he would have bled out on the floor, or the building would have collapsed on top of him, if she had not woken him.
“What's the plan?” he said, looking at the driving griffon.
“We're heading to the hospital, picking up survivors on the way. And killing Germans,” he said, as he nodded to the pony in the backseat, who got out. “Get in. You look like you're gonna collapse.”
Copper got into the car and once the sensation of his back burning subsided, it was comfortable to sit. “So then...hospital?”
The griffon looked back at him, “Yes. Unless you have any objections-” he hesitated as he looked Copper up and down. “Sergeant.”
He shook his head. “No. What's your name?”
The griffon gave him a smile. “Burrasca.”
~
Copper nearly fell over, but leaned against the table instead. The memory had hit him hard enough to actually hurt. “Are you all right?” He looked at Scootaloo. There was no doubt. That was why this Copper would do anything for her.
But he nodded. “Yes...I'm fine...just...need to sit down,” he said as he moved around the table and sat in his chair.
She moved around the room to him. “You did lose a lot of blood...maybe you should sleep.”
He took in a slow, deep, breath. It did not hurt, which he was mildly surprised at. “No. I'm fine. Just a bit...woozy. I'm fine,” he said again. He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her, or convince himself.
“Are you sure?” she said, looking at him, trying to look at his face. She was so concerned for him.
It actually made him laugh. “Yes. I'm sure. I just...” he hesitated. Perhaps someday he should tell her...but for now... “I figured something out that I did not know before.” Why had the old Copper not told her? There must have been a reason...and until he figured out the reason, if any, he would keep it to himself.
“Well...good...” she said as she turned her attention to the clockwork, looking it over. “Have you figured out anything about this?”
He took a deep breath and leaned further back in his chair. “Nothing that I'm looking for...” He suddenly leaned forward. “But...oh Scootaloo...the things that I've learned by just looking through it...the elegance is...” He shook his head. “It is beyond words...the things I could do with this kind of skill...the sheer complexity-”
“All right,” she said, as she pulled it off the table and dragged it across the room. “That's enough of this.”
“I-” he blinked, trying to comprehend what was going on. “Scootaloo, what are you doing?” He started to get up, but he put too much weight on his arm and slumped back in pain.
“You need to sleep.” She unceremoniously shoved the clockwork into the closet. “And I have errands that need running.”
“I-” he blinked again. “I thought you said you didn't have anything to do today.”
“I changed my mind.” She closed the door on the clockwork and turned back to Copper, her arms folded in front of her. “No arguing.”
Copper couldn't help but laugh. “All right. Fine.” He took a deep breath and stretched a bit, which hurt. “Sleep actually sounds pretty-”
There was a knock on the door and it opened before Copper had a chance to do anything. The door had not been locked again after Corser left. “Chrysalis,” Scootaloo said, staring.
It didn't look like the Chrysalis he had expected. But she was beautiful. Long blonde hair, a pale, almost white coat of fur. She was wearing a large coat that looked to be made for far colder weather, but it was her; there was no mistaking it. From the way that she stood, to the shine of her eyes and that expression on her face. The expression was the stern, almost disappointed look that he had learned quite well. “Copper...I see this-” she stopped talking.
He had not gone for his gun this time, yet she stared at him as though he'd shot her. Her eyes went to the bloody rags and back to Copper. “Probably looks a lot worse than it actually is,” he said and began moving papers off his desk into drawers. He pretended to file them, but mostly he was hiding his notes on the clockwork.
“Are...are you all right?” Her expression had melted into the once again familiar concerned, yet stern, face he had seen on occasion. As if she was angry at him for getting hurt.
“Fine. I've just been stabbed.” He glanced at Scootaloo, who seemed stunned into silence. “It's-” he hesitated a moment, wondering if he'd ever been stabbed before. Probably had. “Not the worst thing I've gone through,” he decided was a safe bet.
“I...” She shifted uncomfortably across the room, seeming to have completely lost her train of thought. “What...what have you been doing? I...I ran into Corser on the way up. He failed to mention you being stabbed.”
“Yes, well...that would be Corser for you. Worried about the wrong things.” He did not want to look at her right now. It made his heart ache.
“Copper...he said you've been doing some very reckless things. He wouldn't go into details, but he's really worried about you.” There was hesitation. “I'm worried about you.”
Copper looked up at her and he saw her flinch. Perhaps he was being a tad too harsh on her? But from what he had heard, she had left him in quite bad shape. Then a thought struck him and his expression softened slightly. “Do you know where the Doctor is?”
She glanced around and behind her. “Is there one here?”
He leaned back in the chair, there was no mistaking a changeling when he saw one. He spent too much time with them, someponies would say. “Not a doctor. The Doctor.” The expression on her face told him everything he needed to know. He had hit it perfectly.
~
Suddenly there was darkness. The headache was back, though it was quickly going away. His heart was racing and he was panting. He heard the door open. “Copper? Are you-” silence.
He opened his eyes and saw what was around him. The entire room had cracked. Cracks ran around the room, up the walls, across the ceiling. He looked up to see Twilight and the other two standing in the doorway. He straightened up; he had apparently been on the floor. “Fine. Just...having some...” He looked around the room and noticed how the cracks ringed his hooves. “Difficulties...” he mumbled.