//------------------------------// // Who's that at the Door? // Story: Itty-Bitty 2: Revenge of the Tiny // by gallagsp the corgi //------------------------------// She sat there, in that chair, waiting for the inevitable knock at the door. It happened every day, sometimes more than once, but she dared not answer it. Not since that fateful tragedy ruined her mental state of mind. The memory played again and again in her head. Then, like clockwork, a sound echoed through the home. A simple knock, sounding three times. She placed her back against the door, as if she could convince the pony outside to go away. She peaked through the peephole and watched them as they turned to leave. She slid down the door until she was sitting on the floor, she sighed, looking around the room. It seemed empty, though it was full of her things. She went back over to her chair and sat in it, placing her face in her hooves and sobbed quietly. Then another knock sounded. This one took her by surprise, being so soon after the last one. It was louder, slower, more demanding of her attention. She quietly made her way back over, and, blinking the tears from her eyes she looked through the peephole again. Her friends were there, all of them. She moved away from the door and back to the chair. They knocked again. "Hey, are you there?" One of them called. "We haven't seen you for weeks. We want to make sure you're okay." Go away. She thought. Leave me alone. I want to be alone. They waited for a long time. The clock on the wall counted the seconds. Then they shrugged, turned around and left. She breathed a sigh of relief, then went back into her self-loathing depression. A few hours later, another knock at the door. She started to get up, then was stopped short. "Fluttershy? It's Spike. I brought you some groceries since I figured you'd be running low by now. I'm not expecting you to come out, but remember that Harry wouldn't want to see you like this. Harry would want the old Fluttershy back. Applejack has been taking care of the animals, but it's just not the same. We want you back, Fluttershy." ... "Alright. I guess you don't want to talk. I'll just leave the bags by the door, okay? You come get them when you feel like it." It would be a few hours until Fluttershy got the bags. The milk was spoiled from being left out, and the cheese was starting to smell, but it was a huge step in her recovery.