The rock farm, while a place of labor and its associated pains in the daytime, was generally a place of peace and quiet at night. The Pie family’s small homestead was the only residence for miles, and they maintained a strict policy of work from dawn to dusk, then dinner and promptly to bed. Aside from the middle daughter’s recent project that lasted through the night, all could generally be counted on to be neatly tucked into their beds before the purple glow of twilight had given way to the deep black of night.
This evening, however, was not so gentle. A howl whipped out of the small cabin, loud enough to be heard in the next town, and uncharacteristic light blared from its modest, shaded windows.
Inside, two worried parents hovered cautiously over the source of the noise: a small, pink filly thrashing about wildly, blankets crumpled in a pile beside her.
“Wake up, Pinka-Pink...ie!” Igneous Pie growled, thrusting his hoof deep into the filly’s side. “You must wake up!”
“Maybe,” his wife whispered, “it’s all those parties? She hasn't taken a break to work for weeks. It's just fun, fun, fun, fun, fun.”
Igneous grunted. “Cutie mark’s a cutie mark. Can't stop her from doin' what she's destined. Just gotta….just gotta deal with it. Disappointment or not.”
“Maybe. But... she’s been, well, so happy all the time. She’s just….it’s not like our little Pinkamena…”
“She’s not our Pinkamena anymore, dear. She’s her own pony; hay, she’ll be a mare soon enough.” Igneous rocked his wailing daughter once again.
Cloudy shook her head. “I know, I just...somethin' about it don't seem natural."
“She’s fine!” His voice rose to a thunderous growl, Turning back towards his daughter, he clopped his hooves together forcefully. “Pinkie! Wake up! Now!”
“Igneous, ya ain’t gonna get her to wake up. How many nights have we gone through this now?”
His shoulders sagged, a reluctant sigh escaping his lips. “You’re right; I know….”
“We should take her back to Ponyville tomorrow.” A stern, decisive look crossed the mare’s face. “After all, they did say it might take time to get the dose right...”
“Those mules don’t know nothin...now, if we had a unicorn doctor run some tests—”
“Don't you dare call Dr. Stone a mule! His family's been treatin' ours for generation. And there ain’t gonna be any unicorn witchery comin’ near my daughter!”
“M-mom?” Pinkie blinked the last tears from her eyes as her parents turned away from their argument to address her.
“Pinkamena! Good—”
“C-c-can I sleep with you tonight?”
Igneous looked down at his daughter with as much gentleness as he could muster. “Pinkie, I—”
"Absolutely not." Cloudy pounded the ground with a hoof. “You’ll get through this on your own, young mare.”
“B-b-but….”
“No buts." Her mothers tone left no room for argument. "Now, let's put the lights out. The rest of us need to sleep too, you know…”
“Yooooo hoooooo. Anypony home?” Pinkie's knocks echoed from the large, oaken door as she frantically rapped her hoof against it for the third time that morning. Today was the day; she knew it. She’d set four different alarms just to make sure she’d have enough time, and she could feel it as soon as she woke up. She was so excited, she’d tossed her bedside table across the room as she flew out of bed, setting off a few of her hidden emergency streamers in the process.
Which was perfect.
Because today would be the day; and it was worth celebrating. Even though grumpy-wumpy Mr. Cake didn’t seem to agree. He wouldn’t even crack an itty-bitty smile at breakfast.
It didn’t matter. Today would be the day, and everything would be perfect.
A series of loud thumps could be heard from inside, followed by a sound not unlike glass shattering. The door gave a little shake, and then its upper half slowly creaked open.
“Pinkie,” Twilight blinked, her mane frayed in twenty different directions, “do you even know what time it is?”
Pinkie took a deep breath. This was going to take work. But that was alright; she'd prepared her widest, most sincere grin for this very moment. “Yeperooni! Buuuuuuut,” she squeezed Twilight’s muzzle between her hooves, “it’s never too early to check on a good friend.”
The frazzled unicorn scowled, pushing her hooves firmly into Pinkie's chest as she extracted herself from her friend’s grasp. Her lips began to move, words barely forming, rumbling out from a deep place inside of her. "Check up...good friend...never..."
"Oooh! That's a cool trick, Twilight!" Pinkie beamed at her frazzled companion. "For a second there, I thought you'd been possessed by an eldritch abomination from Tartarus."
Twilight looked up, quirking an eyebrow.
"Well, it does happen, you know. There was this one time, Maud got possessed, and started chanting evil curses in ancient Equiish." She leaned towards Twilight conspiritorially, licking her teeth shrewdly. "We threw rocks at her until it came out!"
Twilight's jaw slammed into the wooden frame of the closed half-door, cringing in pain as a pink hoof brought it back to it's normal position.
"Maybe that's why..." Pinkie looked up, her eyes grey and distant. "Nah."
"B-but...came out? You mean, you-you saw an eldritch abomination from Tartarus!?"
"Totally! He even gave us candy once he got out."
Twilight's eyes rolled. "Let me guess, rock candy?"
Pinkie bit her lip, stifling a giggle as she mussed Twilight's mane with a hoof. "No, you silly filly. Maud and I make that. He gave us pflaghntaghn!"
"Pfl...what?" Twilight blinked. "You know what. No. I-I'm not doing this. It's too early."
"Okie dokie lokie. Anyway, you'll have to teach me that trick sometime."
"Some other time." Her breath snorted through her nostrils. “Anyway, I'm fine, so I think this check-up can be called complete. Well, I was fine, until somepony decided to wake me up at 5 AM!”
Her eyes narrowed until they were nearly hidden by the folds of her wrinkled forehead. Pinkie knew she shouldn't laugh, since her friend was clearly really, really angry, but a little smile wouldn't hurt.
“5 AM?” A silent pause, and then Pinkie giggled again. “Silly filly, it’s not 5—it’s 4! Oh—but, I didn’t mean you, anyway! I actually came over to check on Rainbow Dash.”
Twilight’s face promptly met her hoof with a solid thud.
“Pinkie…”
“Well, is she here?” Pinkie stretched her neck through the doorway far as it would extend, her eyes bulging from her face as she peered around her friend. Stacks of books in neat (and not-so-neat) piles were abundant, but none in the shape of a rainbow-maned pegasus.
“Have you seen her? Do you know where she is?”
Twilight’s breathing quickened audibly, and, planting both forehooves on Pinkie’s shoulders, shoved the mare off of her in a swift motion.
“No, she isn’t here!”
Twilight’s ears swiveled around as they picked up a groan from upstairs, the annoyance written on her face doubling with the sound.
“Uh...everything okay, Twilight? What’s Pinkie—”
“Yes. Everything is fine, Spike,” she hissed, turning back to Pinkie.
“As for you,” she poked her friend in the chest with a hoof, “I haven’t seen Rainbow Dash, I don’t know where she is, and I don’t want you in my house at 5 in the morning!"
"Oh."
"Pinkie," Twilight raised an eyebrow, rubbing a bleary eye with her forehoof, "are you feeling okay? You've been acting a little strange since Rainbow Dash—"
"Super-duper-looper!" Pinkie's lip twitched as her unfailing grid spread wider.
"Well, in that case: Go home!”
Twilight’s horn burst to life, and Pinkie felt herself lift into the air briefly. Before she could even say “Cupcakes”, though, she was flying through the air, her muzzle burying itself deep into the grass outside. Behind her, a mutter of ‘Gah! Morning ponies!’ was followed by a slam loud enough to shake the ground she was embedded in.
“Huh. Oh well!”
Pinkie bounced up, hopping back down the path with almost the same amount of hoppity-hop as when she'd come, her mane nearly as frizzy as when she'd arrived.
Fluttershy blinked, her hooves glued to the floor.
“Oh n-no,” Fluttershy finally stammered, her eyes darting between the pink mare and the kettle before her, “I haven’t seen her, actually."
She swallowed, a heavy lump slithering slowly down her throat. Taking in a deep breath, she turned away from Pinkie Pie, gesturing towards the steaming teapot. "Um...would-would you like some tea?”
“No, I wouldn’t like some tea!” Pinkie huffed, her eyes wide and wild.
"Oh," she whispered, shrinking to the ground, "O-okay."
Hazarding another look at her friend only heightened her sense of panic, as Pinkie's cheeks flamed in a way Fluttershy had only had seen a hoofful of times before. She edged towards the kettle, taking it up in her mouth, and silently slid along the wall towards the kitchen.
Even as she did, the fur pricked on the back of her neck; she could feel Pinkie's unrelenting gaze boring through her. Another cold lump down her throat, she turned once more, the metal handle clinking against her teeth.
In response, Pinkie lunged towards the yellow pegasus, pressing her back against the wall as Pinkie shoved their muzzles together aggressively. “I’d like," she huffed, "somepony... to... tell me where Rainbow Dash is!”
“Oh...oh…um…” Fluttershy shuffled sideways, rolling her tail between her hooves, “I’m...sorry. But I really haven’t seen her. Have you tried…”
“I’ve tried everypony! And they all said exactly what you did!" Pinkie paused, looking up thoughtfully. "It just...doesn’t make any sense.”
Seemingly calmed (or, at least, distracted) for now, Fluttershy slipped around the corner, where two unmatched cups waited for her on a quaint rustic table. Gently, she tilted the kettle up, one eye towards the main room as the water trickled out. “Well,” she offered, “maybe Rainbow Dash just wants some alone time?”
“Rainbow Dash? Alone?” Pinkie screeched, snatching a cup from Fluttershy.
Fluttershy’s eyes locked on the clear liquid sloshing around the inside of the cup Pinkie had appropriated. “Oh, but I haven’t—”
Pinkie tipped her head back, draining the vessel of its contents.
“Mmmmmmm,” she smiled, “What variety is this? Foal Gray?”
“Ummm—”
“Doesn’t matter! I just—want to know where Dashie is…”
Fluttershy cocked her head, gazing deeply into her friends darkening eyes.
“Oh, Pinkie, um…”
Pinkie wrapped her forelegs tightly around herself, her body swaying like a flag in the breeze.
“You….you don’t think she’s forgotten about us, do you?” Pinkie sniffled, setting the cup down gently in front of her. She slouched over, her mane nearly thoroughly deflated.
“Pinkie, why would you think that?” Hesitantly, Fluttershy shuffled beside the distraught mare, draping a wing over her limp body.
“Well...she just, she went away like that, didn’t even tell anypony why or where she was going. And she hasn’t come back or even responded to the letters I’ve been sending her!”
“Oh Pinkie,” the pegasus cooed uncertainly, rubbing her muzzle against her friend’s. After seeming to hesitate for a moment, she continued. “Don’t worry too much. She...she hasn’t forgotten any of, um, us.”
Fluttershy pinched her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes dancing as she monitored her friend’s unmoving frame.
She was shocked backwards as a pink hoof collided with the the floor in front of her, her green eyes wide.
"See, I'm no good to anypony!" Pinkie's voice screeched, her pink form wavering. "Nopony wants a stinky-Pinkie saddy-waddy-pants around."
“I….she’s done this before, Pinkie…” she swallowed, feeling the mare’s chest deflate beside her. Her eyes darted briefly to the window, where the first stars were just beginning to shine their light on Equestria. “But...if...if it’s that important to you, I’ll fly to her house, or even all the way back to Cloudsdale tomorrow and track her down for you.”
“You….you’d do that for me?” Pinkie shifted, turning to look Fluttershy in the eyes.
“What wouldn’t I do for a friend?” the pegasus shrugged, a weak smile flitting across her muzzle.
Fluttershy’s eyes snapped wide open as she found herself suddenly wrapped in the tight grip of Pinkie’s forelegs.
“Fluttershy, you’re the greatest!” Pinkie smiled through the tears in her eyes, unceremoniously dumping the pegasus to the ground and bounding out of the small cottage as though nothing had happened.
“Oh, um, you’re welcome,” Fluttershy muttered to herself, slumping against the door as it slid closed with a click.
Pinkie Pie’s eyes snapped open, her heart drumming a heavy beat against her skull. Hastily, she pulled them shut once more. In her long-practiced way, she sucked in a long, thick breath, holding it to the count of ten, then release. As long as she kept the rhythm going, the echoes of the nightmare would fade back into the black of night, and rest would come shortly thereafter.
Though it would be much easier if she wasn’t so cold. Reaching down to pull her blankets more tightly against her, she stiffened as instead of the fluffy comforter she’d expected, her hoof only contacted wet, sticky fur.
Her wet, sticky fur.
Her breath stopped, frozen in her chest by an icy lance, her whole body shivering uncontrollably.
“C-c’mon, P-Pinkie,” she squeaked to herself, “giggle at the ghostly.”
She felt as though Equestria itself held its breath as she peeled back an eyelid, letting out the start of a shriek before clamping her muzzle closed.
Above her, flame roiled about, it’s glow eerily illuminating the nearest edges of the pink envelope around it and casting shadows in all directions around her.
“Shhh, Pinkie,” a familiar voice murmured, drawing her attention suddenly downward…
...to the round edges of a bubbly-glass window, which caught the stray beams of light and reflected them out in all directions. The window had been pushed open a hair from the cloud walls around it, apparently to let the fall breeze flow through.
She lifted a hoof towards her temple, the pounding in her head now accompanied by a high whine.
This is bad, she thought, really—yeeeowch!
Her eyes widened with surprise as a metallic ting could be heard as an object she didn’t know she’d been holding flew from her hooves and fell to….wherever things fall to when they fall from high up.
It sounded like a question for Twilight.
Or Dashie, she thought sadly, grinding her hoof against the warm, wet spot, her snout wrinkling at the odd, squishy texture. Pulling it back, she could see in the dim light that it was wet, moistened by something dark, but reddish.
“Nope,” she murmured to herself, her mouth drawing tight in terror, “I was wrong. This isn’t bad. This is terrible!”