Red Eyes, Red Nose, Redheart

by Stavicodone

Chapter One

Another morning, another opening. You walk to the door and flip the sign to “Open”. There’s already a small line of three ponies waiting outside, their breath forming small mists in the cool morning air. A thin smile forms at the corner of your mouth as you pull the door open and hold it for them.
“Come in, come in! Welcome to Anon’s Place!” you clamor, gesticulating with one hand to bring them in.
The three hurriedly step inside, exchanging muted greetings as they shake the cold out of their thin fur. Autumn seemed to come a bit early this year; probably an overcorrection for the late summer last year brought.
Those damn pegasi, you think to yourself. They can fight all right, but God forbid making the seasons run on time.
You chuckle under your breath as you step behind the counter and pull out your scratchpad. You begin working from the far end, taking orders from the early-risers.

Standing over the hot griddle, flipping over a set of pancakes and quickly beating a bunch of soon-to-be-scrambled eggs (multitasking!), you reflect on your life. Five years… or was it six? Ah well, the when of it doesn’t really matter. Fact is, you’re living your dream. It’s not a *big* dream, by any stretch. You never wanted to be an astronaut or president or doctor or anything nearly unattainable like that. Unattainable for you, anyway.
No, you always wanted to own your own little diner. A greasy spoon breakfast-type place. A stable of regulars who you know by name… All the bacon and sausage you could eat, a few teenagers to lord over (though you consider yourself a pretty good boss, all things considered), and your name plastered on a big neon sign, flickering proudly onto the streets beyond.
What you never counted on was having a literal stable of patrons. Someway, somehow, you got transferred to pretty pastel ponyland. The details don’t matter much, not in your estimation. No real way back, and you can’t say you want to go back. As far as you know, you’ve got the first real greasy spoon American-style breakfast joint in all of Equestria!
It… YOU have been incredibly successful. You’ve actually been approached by a few investors regarding possible franchising opportunities. And busy! Oh damn are you a busy bee. But you’re not willing to compromise the ambience and atmosphere for a few more customers, no sir.
A sizzling and popping catches your ear, and you drop out of your reverie, quickly sidestepping to flip the bacon. Flat griddle, medium heat… and lots of attention. That’s how you get the best bacon in three provinces!
 That was kind of a surprise, too. You figured at first that this would be a pretty vegan place, but turns out these little horsies don’t much care. They even have an occasional predilection for a good sausage or a chicken-fried steak now and again.
 It’s not like back home, though, and there’s… restrictions on your procurement. There aren’t any dedicated slaughterhouses since a lot of the animals here are sapient, but you can use animals that sign their bodies over for ‘uses benefiting the public good.’ And providing a good, solid meal and plenty of protein is a pretty good benefit, if you say so yourself.
The bacon’s looking perfect, slightly crispy with well-browned fat, and the pancakes are just about done. Eggs’ll only take a second, you think as you snatch up a plate. Right about then, the bell above the door tinkles and two sets of hurriedly clopping hooves come closer.
“S-sorry I’m late, boss! My alarm,” Short Stack, your prep cook and apprentice of sorts, stammers.
“Don’t care, you’re here now. Get yourself cleaned up and start making some of the country gravy. Prep the ingredients for the oatmeal, too. You know how the old folks are,” you say with a brisk flick of your head toward a waiting double-boiler.
“On it!” the stocky unicorn shouts over his shoulder, heading to the sink.
“And Suzette, get out there and do your thing. Warm up their coffee, refill drinks, take new orders… You know what to do.”
The cream-colored pegasus mare, Crêpe Suzette, nods and turns out of the kitchen, grabbing her scratchpad and putting on her smile. Her hair is a bit messed up and of course you know damn well why they’re late. Ah, young love…
“Order up!” You place the first meal on the low-set barrier between the kitchen and the bar, and turn around to continue cooking.

A few hours pass, the frenetic pace of morning meal-making slicing right through the time. Suzette brings up a bunch of the dirty dishes, crusted oatmeal bowls and lipstick-smeared cranberry juice cups all testifying to the wrinkled seniors who just left. You smirk and wryly think how utterly inflexible the pensioners are. You’d think they’d like to change things up once in a while… but nope, oatmeal and cranberry juice, every single time.
“We got a lull, kids. Take some time to clean some of this stuff up. I’m gonna take a break.”
“Sure thing, boss!” Short Stack calls over the running tap, hot steam rising above his head.
You take off your grease-spotted apron and hang it on its hook, giving a warm smile and a friendly nod to some of the few customers still eating. Walking around the bar, you head for the front door to get some fresh air… and a smoke. 
You light up a cigarette and silently curse that your brand didn’t somehow teleport to Equestria with you. Leaning back and kicking up a leg to rest on the brick wall between your place and the chemist’s next door, you take a drag and exhale, the smoke wafting up into the awning.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Those things are gonna kill you one day, Anon,” a familiar voice jokingly scolds.
“Oh yeah, and all that bacon fat won’t?” you joke, giving your belly a jiggle.
The pony to whom the voice belongs trots over to you, laughing softly and shaking her head. “You’re absolutely incorrigible, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know. I’m a public health menace, Redheart,” you say with a wry grin.
Nurse Redheart, your neighbor and friend, often comes to visit you and catch a meal on the way to work. Her light pink mane glistens in the sunlight and her blue eyes glimmer as she sits down in front of you.
“You are at that. Who knows how many heart attacks you’ll cause!” she jokes, eyes twinkling with mirth.
“That’s my goal. ‘Anon the Heart Stopper’, sounds pretty good to me,” you respond, giving her a jocular wink.
The pretty white pony snickers and stands up as you butt out your cigarette. You only smoke half at a time, anymore.
“So you got any specials today, heartbreaker?”
“Heart Stopper, Redbutt. And yeah, we actually got some fresh Prench croissants I think you’ll dig. C’mon in, I’ll join you.” Redheart smiles widely as you hold the door open for her and lead her to her preferred booth.

The remains of some biscuits and gravy cool on your plate as you converse with the cute nurse, still… nursing her flaky pastry, only a few berries left of her little fruit cup.
“So I’m being transferred to Pediatrics next week,” she says, a curious and distant look overcoming her features.
“What’s that look for? Is it a bad thing? I thought a lot of nurses want to take care of children,” you say, leaning a bit forward and looking into her eyes.
“It’s… you’re right, a lot of trainee nurses really look forward to their stint there. But once you’ve actually worked it…” she trails off, casting her eyes down and staring at her plate. Or rather, beyond her plate. “It breaks your heart. So many colts and fillies, who should have their whole lives ahead of them… wasting away from leukemia and hoof-and-mouth and congenital heart defects. And there’s nothing you can do! Nothing except make them more comfortable, to make their lives as pleasant as possible,” she blurts, the words pouring out in a torrent, her emotions sunk deeply into every one. She drops the remainder of her croissant and pushes her plate away.  “I’m sorry. It was delicious, but I’m… I’m just not hungry,” she murmurs, looking at you with a forced grin and watery eyes.
“I’ve never seen you like this before, Red. Not even when you were in Oncology. You feeling alright?”
“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine,” she says with a sniffle. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I mean, this isn’t the first time I’ve rotated to Pedes. I just... I dunno, I guess I do feel kind of weird,” she says with a querulous tone.
“Well if you ever need anyone to talk to, my door’s always open to ya. You’re a sweet girl,” you say, reaching over and giving her pink mane a stroke.
“Hah! ‘Girl’. Nobody’s called me a girl in a… well, it’s been awhile. Anyway,” she states, sliding out from the booth and settling on her hooves next to the table, turning to look at you, “I’ve got to get to work. How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. Your money’s no good here, we’ve been over this.”
She smiles warmly and turns her head, dipping into her saddlebags and pulling out two bronze bits and a silver lunarius. “And I have never accepted it! At least take this. Consider it a gratuity. And Anon?” she asks as she begins to step away, “Thanks for the company. You’re a good friend, and a great guy. See you tomorrow!”
You watch her as she leaves, fuschia tail swishing with her full hips. She presses her way through the door and turns to the right, heading to the hospital. Smiling, you pick up all the dishes and head back to the kitchen, refreshed and ready to finish out your day.

The rest of the day passes uneventfully, so you let Short Stack and Suzette take off early. They make a cute couple, and what little clean-up was left only took a little while to take care of.
After cleaning the restaurant and setting the stage for the next day, you lock the building down and visit Twilight Sparkle at the library. No television here, so you usually grab a book once a week to enjoy when you get home.
While you dry your recently washed dishes, you hear a faint clopping on the cobblestones outside, getting closer every second. Nurse Redheart, mane somewhat bedraggled under her cap, is slowly shuffling home. Poor thing works her flank off, you think to yourself.
She notices as you give her a friendly wave, and gives you a thin smile and a nod in return. She doesn’t come to your door, though, instead pushing through her own and closing it behind her.
Looks like she had a hard day, you think as you put the dishes away. Still, you’ll probably see her tomorrow. Might as well go upstairs and get ready to turn in.
The rest of the night passes quickly. Those ‘Legends of Celestial Heroes’ books are fantastic. Really immersive and just the type of thing you can really get sucked into.
Sleep comes quickly…

Another day in paradise. Signs flipped, patrons in, grill steaming. Your two employees are in a great mood and actually showed up on time. You wonder if maybe Shortie got to… how do those baseball metaphors work with ponies, anyway?
Ah well. Friday’s breakfast day at the senior center, so no huge vat of oatmeal to work with. Meat supplies are running low, though. You make a note to get ahold of Burke and Hare to get some more pork, at the very least. Still, Friday is a pretty busy day on its own, so you settle into the task of whipping up some country gravy, scooping up yesterday’s leftover sausage and bacon and haphazardly chopping it up before tossing it in the stockpot.
Pinkie Pie came by with the morning’s customary doughnuts and pies, staying to chat for a bit like she always does.
“So I say to her, ‘Rainbow Dash, you’re a graveyard smash! You’re a positive… monster mash!’” Pinkie nearly collapses in laughter at her own joke, which you politely chuckle at while you set up the next batch of coffee to percolate. “Get it? Because she slammed that ugly bone-troll upside the head? Monster… mash! Pfffthahahaha!” While Pinkie breaks into giggles again, the bells above the door ring and you look to see who your next patron is.
It’s Nurse Redheart, running a little bit late and slowly shuffling to her booth.
Her head hangs low, her cap is pushed off to the side, her mane is only barely coiffed and somewhat wild. She doesn’t look very good, you think, remembering how late she got home last night.
“Shorts, keep an eye on that gravy for me, will ya?” Short Stack gives you a holler in response, letting you know he heard. “And Suze, once that coffee’s done, go ‘round and give everyone a warm-up. I’ve got something to do.” Suzette turns your way and gives you a brisk nod, hustling to the counter to grab the newest order. “And Pinkie, it was great seeing ya, but I’ve got to get going.”
Pinkie Pie gives you a strange head-bobble. “Sure thing, Nonalotapuss! I’ve gotta get back, myself. See ya!” Pinkie says as she walks out of the still-swinging door.
You take off your apron and hang it on its hook, turning around and stepping out from behind the bar and taking a seat with your neighbor. Redheart hardly takes notice of you as you slide into the seat opposite her, staring down and seemingly beyond the menu.
You wave your hand in front of her. “Heyo! Redcross, you there?”
She looks up slowly, her eyes rimmed with red and sagging a little, her nose a little crusty. It’s all she can do to force a little, weary smile. “Mornin’, Anon. Sorry if I’m a little… off. I feel like I passed out in a sauna.”
“Yeah, girly, you don’t look so good. Why didn’t you stay home today?”
She scrunches up her face for a moment, the long worry-crease above her eyes forming its distinctive furrow. “I can’t stay home! I start my stint in Pediatrics today. There’s no way I can let those fillies and colts down now…”
“Redheart, come on. You’re not going to be any use to anyone like this. Furthermore, there’s a damn good chance you’ll spread whatever you’ve got to one of them! Come on, take the day off, go home, and get some rest. You work yourself too hard as it is.”
She snorts, the sound positively solid with congestion, and shakes her head. “No. Absolutely not. I’m the only one there who can—”
“Fine, fine, whatever you say,” you concede. “Let’s at least get you something to eat before you go, though.” You raise your hand and loudly snap, catching Suze’s attention. She quickly clops over to the booth, pulling out her scratchpad and looking between you and Redheart expectantly.
“Umm… just a croissant and a… *sniffle*... a bowl of fresh fruit? Oh, and a coffee, too. Your strongest,” the obviously ill Redheart mumbles.
Suzette jots the order down and looks over at you, an eyebrow arched.
“Just bring me a coffee, kid. And we’ve got priority, here. This one,” you say, pointing a finger at Redheart, “...absolutely insists on going to work today.”
“Alright, Anon! I’ll be right back with your order, Nurse… and I hope you feel better,” Suzette says with a wink, twirling around and going back behind the counter.
Redheart’s eyes follow her as she leaves. “She’s a sweet kid, Anon. And you treat her… and Short Stack… really quite—” Redheart goes into a coughing fit, a trembling hoof snatching a napkin to cover her mouth.
You shake your head ruefully, not at all surprised but a bit disappointed in her determination to not take a sick day.
“Ugh… I’m sorry… uh, where was I?” Redheart asks, her eyes almost lolling about on their own.
“Don’t worry about it. Here comes Suze with your food anyway.”

Redheart barely finishes half of her croissant, setting it down next to the empty fruit dish. Her coffee is barely lukewarm at this point, but she manages to take all of it in one long draft, clearly desiring the caffeine more than the drink itself.
Reaching into her saddlebags, she pulls out a silver lunarius and drops it on the table before sliding out from the booth.
“Thanks for joining me, Anon, but I have to make my way to work now. I’ll see you later, okay?”
You slide yourself out of the booth and stretch for a moment. Thoughts laced with concern spin in your mind, and you settle on a course of action. “I’m gonna walk to the hospital with you, at least. You’re not lookin’ too steady on your feet there, Red.”
The sick nurse looks up at you with a mixture of suspicion and relief, her worry line dimpling slightly for a moment before she starts coughing again.
“Hey Shortie! I’m gonna run out for a bit. Think you two can keep an eye on the place? I shouldn’t be much more than half an hour,” you shout over the din of diners and rustling flatware.
Your teenage apprentice turns and looks out at you over the half wall for a moment, a confident gleam in his eyes. “Sure thing, boss-man! Suze and I can keep this place afloat, I guarantee it,” he announces, glancing towards the pretty pegasus and giving her a wink.
You give the two of them a wave and push open the front door, holding it open long enough for Redheart to pass through.

The hospital isn’t too far of a walk from your diner, maybe ten minutes one way. You mosey on at a slowish pace, keeping Redheart at your side, a cool autumn breeze blowing through the streets. She sighs as the wind courses through her mane and cools her fevered brow, loose pink hairs fluttering almost playfully out from under her cap.
“Oh, that’s good…” she murmurs, halfway closing her eyes as she clops along.
You keep your eyes on the road ahead, the two of you walking side by side as you take the last curve to the hospital’s entrance. The great building, the technological wonder of Ponyville, looms in front of you. Redheart comes to a stop and you join her in pausing.
“Thank you for walking with me, Anon. It was nice to have some company… even if we didn’t talk much,” Redheart says, looking up at you with red-rimmed, but still beautiful and shining blue, eyes.
“You’re welcome, Redheart. Don’t think I’m leaving just yet, though. I at least want to see you in the door.”
“That’s not neces—” her speech is cut off by a sneeze and she wearily shakes her head.
“I’ll be the one who decides what’s necessary and what’s not. Let’s get you inside.”
The feisty nurse looks up at you for a moment, seemingly determined to stop any ideas you might have, before giving up, her withers sagging for a moment. She picks her hooves up and places one in front of the other, shuffling forward through the automatic doors.

At your insistence, and after a bit of arguing, Redheart agreed to be seen by a doctor before she heads in for her shift. Though later than she usually is, she still has a good half-hour before she’s supposed to be on the floor.
 Evidently she’s not the only pony who has this bug, either. The waiting room had a fair few suffering most of the same symptoms. You even recognized the black pegasus Thunderlane, wearing a face mask and with rheumy eyes. He gave you a weary wave before being led away by a nurse to get himself checked on.
Redheart’s status gives a few benefits, it seems. She gets fast-tracked to a treatment room fairly quickly and a doctor is soon in. He’s an older unicorn with a severe look to him, his mane going grey with age and a cutie-mark of a stethoscope.
“Let’s see,” he grumbles, looking at the clipboard hovering in front of him, “Ms… Nurse Redheart? Funny to see you on the other side, for once! What’s wrong, m’dear?”

Redheart snuffles and gives you a glare before turning to the doc. “I’ve just got a little cold, Doctor. Anon, here, insisted I be seen before reporting for duty,” she says, quickly reaching for a tissue as she stifles a sneeze.
The doctor exchanges a look from her to you, arching his eyebrow, then back to her as he steps closer. “Well there’s nothing wrong with a friend being concerned. There has been a bug going around, you know. Feverfew Flu. Let’s have a quick look at you,” the doctor says, his tone brooking no argument.
His examination only takes a few moments, during which Redheart tries and generally fails to keep her symptoms suppressed. He goes through the standard ear, nose, throat inspections and listens to her lungs. Silently, he makes a few notes on her chart and sets it down, this time levitating a thermometer into her mouth. “Now keep that under your tongue for a moment,” he says before stepping over to you.
“I imagine she’s been quite the handful for you, Mister Anonymous. She can be a… determined worker. But you did the right thing, having her come to get checked on. You’re a good and caring friend to her, m’boy. Perhaps she should listen to you a bit more,” the doctor says, throwing a glance her way.
She looks back, though not at the doctor… her baleful gaze is resting on you. The doctor takes a step back to her, levitating the thermometer out of her mouth.
“Three hundred and eleven point four… You’ve got quite the fever there, nurse. Along with the rest of my examination, I’m quite positive you have Feverfew Flu.”
Three hundred and… what? You silently panic as you desperately hope the doctor simply misspoke. A moment of blind shock passes before you recall that Equestria is completely and totally metric. Okay, okay, okay… that’d be, what? A hundred and one, roughly?
Nurse Redheart goes into a short coughing fit as she tries to speak, covering her mouth with another tissue. “A-ahem! But I’m okay, doctor. Just feeling a little ill, is all. I assure you, I’ll be able to work just fine today!”
The doctor steps closer to her, looking over his glasses and sitting on his haunches. “No, you can’t work today, Nurse Redheart. You’re too ill. I understand you’re to start your Pediatric stint, and I will not have you endangering those children with compromised immune systems. You are to go home and rest. Doctor’s orders,” he states with finality, staring at Redheart and daring her to challenge him.
“But I… I—” she stutters as her voice goes gravelly, a wet and choking cough overcoming her.
The doctor nods brusquely and stands up, coming over to you. “See to it that she gets home, Anonymous. You did the right thing today,” he says, holding up a forehoof for you to bump. “And drop by the chemist’s on your way back. Have him fill these. One’s to suppress her coughing and help her rest, the other’s for antibiotics. Good day, you two!” He quickly trots out of the examination room, placing the prescriptions on the counter… and leaving you alone with a reddening—and angry—Redheart.

The walk back from the hospital is fairly quiet, with Redheart still steaming—almost literally from the fever, but more in the figurative sense—about being cut out of work today. The local chemist’s shop is just around the corner from your diner, both being situated along Ponyville’s main thoroughfare. You pop in and drop the prescriptions off with a young stallion, evidently the apprentice of the establishment.
Redheart is seated in the waiting area, glowering at you when you walk up to her.  “I’m gonna run back to the diner and let them know I’m taking the day off. You’ll be okay here?”
Redheart snuffles and nods, not even deigning to speak with you. Ah well, you think to yourself, she may be upset now, but she needs me right now. Ultimately she’ll be appreciative, and if not? Well, it doesn’t bother me too much. Just knowing I’m doing right by her is enough for me.
You half-jog around the corner, stepping inside the diner. There’s a few patrons trickling in before the lunch rush, and you can imagine the place’ll be pretty well packed in a few hours.
“Hi, Anon! It’s been a bit slow, so Stack and I are doing alright. Getting everything ready for lunch right now,” Suzette announces, stopping for a moment to  set down her scratchpad.
You give her a brisk nod and step behind the counter, heading back into the kitchen and beckoning her to come with you.
“Heya chief! All quiet on the diner front. How’d things with Redheart go?” Short Stack asks over his shoulder, his hooves and horn busy assembling a few reubens.
“That’s just what I wanted to talk to you two about. I’ve gotta take the day off. I’m trusting you both to run the place in my absence.”
Crêpe Suzette and Short Stack exchange a glance and a grin before turning back to you, their eyes filled with amusement. “Oh ho, really? Didn’t know you were so sweet on her, Anon!” Suzette says with a giggle, Short Stack joining in her mirth.
“You can trust us, chief! We’ll make sure this boat is all battened down and sails the seas in peace. You go take care of your hospital honey, big guy!”
Your cheeks grow warm as you try not to blush, being toyed with by your own employees. “Yeah, yeah, as if I have no idea what YOU two get up to.” It’s the two teenagers’ turns to blush and look at the ground as you chuckle. “Alright kids, I’m gonna get out of here. One of you drop the keys off at my place after work, got it? You two do a good job and I might… might even consider giving you both a raise.”
The two ponies exchange a glance, eyes glittering, and they both give you an approximation of a salute. “Sir, yes sir!” they both shout, and you turn to leave, heading back to the chemist’s shop. As you hear the bells ring on your way out, you’ve never been more sure that you picked a good pair to help you run your place. Maybe you’ll set them up in their own diner in a few years, up in Trottingham, or Manehattan… or even Canterlot.

The chemist calls Redheart’s name as you return, and you wave her down. She doesn’t stay seated, however, and shuffles over to the pick-up counter. You decide to join her anyway.
“Alrighty, Ms. Redheart. You’ve got some diacetylmorphine and sucrose suspension, to ease your coughing and help you rest. It’s pretty strong stuff, so I wouldn’t take more than two teaspoons at any one time. Aaaand you’ve got some bog-standard penicillin. Take one capsule AFTER meals and avoid dairy products, and you should be better in no time!” the kind chemist confidently states, clearly convinced himself.
“Thank you sir. How much’ll it be?” Redheart asks.
“You’re insured, and with a good plan, too. Your co-pay will only be two and a half bits for the both of ‘em,” the chemist says, bagging the two bottles up.
Redheart reaches in her saddlebags and pulls out two and a half bits, placing them on the counter and stepping away. You hold the door open for her and let her out.
“Still upset with me?” you somewhat tentatively ask.
Redheart looks up at you, her worry-line creased… but it settles back and her smooth face breaks into a thin smile. “No,” she sighs. “What’s done is done. I guess I do need to take a sick day every once in awhile…”
She trails off and her eyes roll around, her knees begin to buckle, and her legs start to give out from under her. You step forward and catch her, holding her steady until she regains her bearings.
“Whaa…? I-I… Whoa!” she shouts as you wrap your meaty arms around her, picking her up and flipping her upside down. You throw her saddlebags over your shoulder and adjust her a bit, more for her comfort than yours. “What in Tartarus do you think you’re doing!? Put me down this instant!” she shouts, her reddening cheeks more indicative of embarrassment than anger.
“Nope. Not happening.”
Redheart gasps… and chokes back a cough, turning her head and spluttering as she tries her hardest to not cough and continue fighting. Girl’s got spirit, at least. You set off down the road, carrying the little pony in your arms like a sack of flour… which she doesn’t weigh much more than. Bit more than a hundred pounds, you’d wager.
“C’mon, let’s get you home and in bed. And don’t bother fighting with me. I’m carryin’ you and I’m taking care of you, and that’s all there is to it,” you say with a touch of finality. She seems to be too tired at this point to bother fighting anymore, and settles back into your arms as you amble on down the lane.

Redheart’s house, and yours next door, loom in front of you as you set her down on her feet. She pushes through the door and holds it open for you, a peculiar look on her face. “So, um… this is my place,” she says, her voice uncharacteristically subdued and almost shy.
Her cottage is quaint and somewhat sparsely decorated. A few family pictures hang on the walls. A table that seems to be gathering a bit of dust from lack of use sits in a dining alcove. All in all, it’s pretty close to what you would expect from a nurse who is hardly ever home.
“It’s really nice, Red! Pretty cozy looking.”
“It is comfortable. I don’t… don’t spend much time here. I usua—” her statement is cut off by a vicious coughing spell, doubling her over and leaving her with wobbly knees.
“Alright, come on, let’s get you upstairs. That’s where your bedroom is, right?”
She nods, beads of feverish sweat trickling down her forehead. She starts to walk to the stairs, taking each step slowly until she’s standing at the base. She looks up with a weary expression, clearly not relishing the prospect of hiking up to the second floor.
“Don’t even think about it. I gotcha,” you say, picking her back up and slowly walking up the stairs.
This time she doesn’t fight it, and even giggles a bit as you jostle her around while trying to open the door to her room. You open the door and step inside… and are greeted by several cat plushies on her bed. The whole room is festooned with pink, lots of hearts and at least one large photograph or painting of kittens and kitties on every wall. You set her down as you look around the room, your heart soaring with giddy glee at the clowder of kitties in every corner. It’s SO CUTE~!
Redheart catches your expression and can’t help but smile. “Yeah, I really like cats. If you couldn’t tell,” she says with a lilt.
“Ha, nope. Couldn’t tell at all.”
Redheart removes her trademark cap and unties the red ribbon keeping her mane in a bun. With a few shakes of her head, her mane tumbles down… and it’s impressively long and *very* attractive. You’ve never once seen her like this.
“Uh… where, ah, where should I put this saddlebag?” you ask, somewhat befuddled by her strikingly beautiful mane.
She turns to face you and nods to a small table under the window. You step forward and lay the saddlebags down on it, pulling out the bag of prescriptions and leaving the rest of her belongings inside. Redheart takes a seat at the table and seems to deflate a little, all the effort expended in her attempt at going to work rushing in on her.
“Nuh uh, nope. You get your pretty little flank in bed, missy. Let me deal with these,” you say, patting the bag of scripts.
“I don’t… Oh, never mind. You’re too stubborn to fight with,” she snickers, a hint of humor shining through her exhaustion.
She gets up from her seat and clambers onto her four-post bed, pulling a smallish white kitten plush up next to her and arranging her pillows so she’s halfway between lying and sitting. While she does that, you open the bag of prescriptions and read the label of the cough syrup. Assuming both the doctor and the chemist know what they’re talking about, you pour a dose into the provided container and stand, walking over to Redheart.
“Here you go, Redbutt. Don’t quite know how it tastes, but if I know my cough syrup, it won’t be great. Let me get some water for you.”
It’s only a few quick steps for you to get into the master bath, and before she’s managed to finish her medicine, you’re right there with a cup of water. Redheart screws up her face in the classic pony scrunch that you’ve grown to love so much since you got here. She grasps the cup of water and takes a drink, swishing it around her mouth to better clear the bitter syrup.
“That bad, huh? Looked like you were sucking on a lemon there for a minute.”
“Mmm hmm!” she mutters, shaking her head like the foul taste is a particularly pestilent horsefly.
Glancing at your watch, you realize it’s almost one o’ clock. You hope the kids are holding down the fort well; it’ll probably be real busy about now. It’s then that an idea strikes you.
“Heya Red, I’m gonna run over to my place real quick. How does some nice, fresh chicken soup sound?”
Your neighborly nurse looks over at you, her eyelids starting to droop and her face looking pallid. “Sounds good, Anony—” She cuts herself off with a yawn, “—mous,” she states with a smile.
“Okay, I’ll be right back. You get a little shuteye, girly. You need it.”
She nods slowly and pulls her stuffed kitty close to her. You pull the sheets over her and tuck them up to her fuzzy chest. As you turn to head out of her room, you can already hear her start to softly snore.

It takes you about an hour to gather up all the ingredients and spices… you also run back to the chemist’s to get a few over-the-counter remedies that you figure might make the sweet white nurse feel a bit better. And it’s not like a few nips of the weaker codeine cough-syrup will do you any harm, either. A nice, itchy little buzz courses through you as you chop up the vegetables and let the egg noodles come to a boil.
Celery, carrots, bay leaves, plenty of chicken, a pinch of parsley and several pinches of garlic salt… along with lots of other little touches, like coarse-ground black pepper. Memories flood through you as the vibrant smells reaches your nostrils. This was the very same chicken soup recipe your dad used to cook for you when you were sick. Always made you feel better, every time.
Idly, you wonder how he’s doing back home. You hope that he’s gotten over your mysterious disappearance. As always, an ache throbs as you reminisce over all you’ve left behind. But you always perk up when you imagine how pleased they would be with the happy little life you’ve made here.
It takes you a good hour to get all the prep work done and the soup all mixed and bubbling on the stove. The varied scents and flavorings all combine to form a delicious aroma that wafts through the house. Not too long afterwards, you can hear the soft clopping of Redheart coming down the stairs. She turns the corner into the kitchen and steps up next to you, looking down into the pot filled with your soup.
“That looks great, Anon! I just wish I could smell it,” she says, her nostrils clearly thick with congestion.
“Already on it, Bright White!” you say, reaching into the bag from the pharmacy and hand her a bottle of nasal spray, which she uncaps and uses immediately.
“Come with me and let’s sit you down. You have some great timing, I’m just about done here.”
Following her out of the kitchen, you have her take a seat at the dinner table, which you had dusted and cleaned while you were letting the soup simmer. Pulling a small tin out of your pocket, you kneel next to her.
“Now THIS stuff will really help you out. I’m surprised you Equestrians don’t have a similar product, so I had the chemist compound it for me. It’s a balm of menthol and eucalyptus. It’ll really help with your congestion and any other sinus problems.”
You open the tin and scoop some out with your fingers. Redheart pulls back a bit before settling back and allowing you to work on her. Your fingers move lightly and slowly over her, painting a bit under her nostrils and along her cheeks, moving down to her neck and upper chest. She relaxes under your touch and her breath slows.
Her eyes are closed as she allows you to work on her, and a smile can’t help itself but shine out from her face. You recap the tin and walk back into the kitchen, rinsing off your fingers and checking on the soup. It’s pretty well finished at this point, so you turn the burner to low, just to keep it warm, and go back into the dining room.
“How’re you feeling now, Red? You look a good bit better. You want me to get more of that cough syrup before we eat?”
Redheart takes a deep breath, inhaling through her nostrils and relishing the cool sensation. She merely nods, focusing on inhaling and exhaling slowly. You can hear her labored lungs wheezing from here, but at least she’s up and feeling a bit better, you think to yourself.
A quick trip upstairs and back down, and you give Redheart another dose of the powerful cough syrup. Hopefully she’ll have enough time to eat before it really takes effect, and then she can get some more of the rest she so desperately needs.
“Hang on before you take that. I’ve brought something really special to wash it down with.” Knowing that wine would most likely be a poor choice, you instead invested in a nice, light white grape juice. You pour two glasses and head back into the dining room, passing one to her.
“Time to take my medicine, huh?” she asks with a grin before knocking back the shot of syrup. Again her face screws up and it’s all you can do to not laugh. After clearing her palate she takes another sip of the juice, taking a moment to really savor it. “That’s… that’s actually really good! Light, but still with a bit of heft to it.”
“I knew you’d like it! Alright, stay right here and let me get something really wonderful for you.”

The lights are dimmed and the bowls of soup are steaming. A few crackers lie on both your plates, lightly buttered and salted. Redheart’s eyes, pinned by the the cough syrup, seem to shine with an ever more brilliant blue than even a star sapphire could emit. She slowly picks up each spoonful, ladling each into her mouth and savoring the burst of flavors.
You’re no less hungry yourself, and it doesn’t take long until your bowl is nearly empty. You force yourself to slow your pace to match hers, looking around the dining room when you notice a small album on the table.
“What’s this?” you ask, picking the book up.
Redheart looks up from her meal, glancing at the album as you take it into your hands. “Hmm? Oh! That’s just something I like to look through from time to time…”
You’ve already flipped the cover open and inside you find a series of carefully preserved and laminated cards. Taking one out, you look at the cover; a lovingly drawn illustration of a sun and two ponies holding hooves jumps out at you. One of the ponies has a cap on with a cross, a pink mane, and blue eyes. Obviously, it’s Redheart.  The other pony is a smaller blue pegasus… one of its wings bandaged and a patch over one eye. He has no mane or tail, and his fur and feathers are patchy and disheveled…
“That’s from one of my first pediatric patients. He was injured in a flying accident… turned out he had a...” she stops to snuffle, though from illness or emotion you could not say. “...a tumor in his brain. He was there through my whole rotation, and I’d like to say we were friends. They… they sent that to me after he…” Her eyes glaze over, filled with wistful memories and a hint of grief.
“I… I’m sorry, Red. I didn’t…”
She sniffs and shakes her head, trying to jostle the memories away. “It’s not your fault, Anon. And most of the rest are a lot happier. They didn’t end… like that. But every time I get a letter from one of the colts or fillies under my care, I get them laminated and put them in that album. I flip through it sometimes, when I eat alone.”
She focuses all her energy on eating now, trying to enjoy the meal you’ve made for her. You had only the faintest inkling of how lonely she really is. Privately, you resolve to never let her feel like that again. She’s a really sweet mare, incredibly caring… and a great friend as well.
She finishes her soup and pushes the dish ahead of her, picking up her napkin and neatly folding it on the table. Her forehoof reaches out and pulls her glass closer and she drains it in one final gulp.
“That was excellent, Anon! Thank you for making it for me. It really… I don’t know, I feel a lot better, just having eaten it,” she says, seemingly as surprised at how much better she feels as she makes it out to be.
“It was my pleasure, Red. Really, I couldn’t stand to see you trying to go to work like that. I had to do something, y’know?”
She slowly nods her head as she gets up from her chair, grabbing her dishes as she does so. You decide not to interfere this time and let her take them into the kitchen, following her with your own dishes.
“Don’t think you’re gonna clean up, though. I’ll take care of it later. How ya feeling? Oh, and don’t forget to take your antibiotics.”
The sick nurse turns and faces you, her eyelids starting to droop as the food and medicine catches up with her. “Kinda tired again, actually. I think,” she says as yawns, “I think I’m going to go get some more rest.” She turns and grabs one of the penicillin capsules on the counter, popping it in her mouth and washing it down with the last of her juice.
“Okay, you do that, Red. I’m gonna clean up and head home, I guess. If you need me, I’ll keep my window open. Just give me a shout.”
Redheart stops dead and looks deeply into your eyes, searching for the will to speak. “Um… Actually, Anon, uh… I was kinda hoping you might… stay the night… with me?” she asks tentatively, more shy than you’ve ever seen her before.
Well now, can’t say I expected that. But you don’t hesitate to give her your answer. “Of course I’ll stay the night, Redheart! I’m glad you asked. Hope you don’t mind if I sleep in my clothes.”
Redheart giggles and shakes her head, her long pink mane fanning out behind her. “No, I don’t mind—” she starts to say, a series of dry, barking coughs cutting her off.
“Alright, no more talking. Let’s get you into bed, Red.” She nods her assent and leads the way. Passing through the kitchen, you grab something out of the bag you brought back from town today…

Nurse Redheart clambers onto the bed, clad in a sheer pink nightie with a fluffy white fringe. She pulls her stuffed cat close to her and reaches her head down to pull the covers up. You stop her short, however, and gently bring the sheets and blanket up to her chest, allowing her forehooves to rest over them with her plushy tucked close.
Your shoes slide off easily and you slide a chair over next to the bed. Turning on the bedside lamp, you pull out the surprise present you picked up today.
Redheart looks at you, curiosity burning in her eyes. “What’s that, Anon? A book?”
“That’s right, Redbutt. I figured you might want something to read tonight, so I picked this up when I was in town.”
“You’re too kind to me,” she says while flashing you a smile, flopping onto her side to make herself more comfortable. “Well, what is it?”
“I know you like cats, so I found this and thought you’d enjoy it.
“Uh, would you mind…” she stammers, sounding incredibly cute and somewhat childlike. A sniffle later and she manages to blurt it out: “Would you read it to me? I’d like that.”
You can’t help but smile at her, this pretty young nurse asking to be read a bedtime story like she was no more than a filly herself. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d be glad to, Redheart.” She wiggles further up the pillow, her eyes intently focused on you. “The Tale of Tyrion the Tyger, by C. Celestian…”

Halfway through the story, and an hour and a half later, you dog-ear a page and come to a stop.
“That’s enough for tonight, Red. We’ll save the rest for tomorrow, yeah?”
Redheart yawns widely, politely covering her mouth with a forehoof. “Mmm hmm,” she mutters drowsily.
You get up and slide the chair back into place, walking back to the bedside to turn off the lamp. “I’m gonna go downstairs and get some sleep, Redheart. If you need me, just give me a shout,” you say with a reassuring smile.
As you go to switch off the lamp, Redheart’s forehoof reaches out and rests on top of your hand. You turn to look at her, finding her pinned eyes focused tightly on you.
“Please don’t go, Anon. You can sleep with me, I don’t… I want you to. I’m so cold,” she says with a shiver. Probably the fever’s gotten better, but she’s still got a case of the chills.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt your rest…”
She nods an affirmative. “Please, Anon. Don’t leave me alone…” She almost sounds at the verge of tears, and you can’t say no to her now.
“Alright, Red. Whatever you want.”
She beams a smile at you, and you walk over to the other side of the bed. Even though the light’s off, the moon and starlight streams in through the window and you can see she’s turned to face you, leaving her stuffed kitty on her other side. You sit down on the bed, lie back, and straighten yourself out. Redheart scoots herself a little closer to you, and you can see her blue eyes glint in the moonlight.
“I… I wanted to thank you, Anon. Anonymous. And I’m… I’m sorry for the way I treated you this morning. I was angry, but not with you. I was mad at myself for not being able to be there for my wards. I know I told you, the other day, how hard Pediatrics can be, but at the same time… I love it, Anon. Taking care of those fillies and colts, caring for them when they need it most… It’s the most rewarding thing in the world, no matter how hard it sometimes is,” she says, pouring all of her heart into her words. “And when, today, I realized I was too sick to do it… I got angry, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry,” she whispers, each word seeming to catch in a patch of thorns before being released.
“It’s fine, Redheart. You’re a wonderful nurse, the best I’ve ever known,” you say, reaching out a hand to smooth out her soft mane. “But you work yourself too hard, sometimes. And you need to know when you yourself need to be nursed.”

Redheart smiles, a tear streaking down her cheek, and she reaches a forehoof up to meet your hand. “I know that now. And you’ve been a great nurse to me,” she says with a husky giggle. “I’d… I’d like it if you could take care of me like this more often.”
You realize that you would like that as well. You’ve grown quite fond of your neighbor, and it feels good to have someone to take care of. “I’d like that, too.”
“Um, Anonymous? Could you… um… could you, maybe… hold me?” she asks, scooting a bit closer to you and staring into your eyes.
You don’t bother answering with words, instead wrapping your arms around her, taking in her warmth and relishing her scent, her soft fur tickling your arms and her silky mane flowing over your hand.
The light of the night playfully dapples the room as you close your eyes, feeling Redheart’s breaths become slower and deeper, and it’s not long before you feel yourself drifting.
The last feeling you have is an incredible sense of contentment. You never knew it before, but now, at this point, you truly feel fulfilled. And... happy.