Flux was really starting to worry about Jaxler. He hadn't seen him in a few days, not since shortly after he stopped his binge. Thankfully, there were few places to hide around Dawnpick. Well, except for the clouds, but he couldn't go search them, could he? As it was, Flux was fast running out of places to look for him. He wasn't in the booze stockpile, or his room, or the mines. He had even checked the church, but he wasn't anywhere! In desperation, he checks the last place he can think to: the crypts. To his surprise, he actually spots him next to a coffin, looking quite morose. Flux slowly descend the stairs, trying to think of something to say.
"Um... Jaxler?"
Jaxler's trance was broken by the sound of a pony's voice coming from the stairs. When Jaxler raised his head and looked over at the steps he realized that Flux had found him.
"Damnit... What do you want Flux?"
"Um... just been looking for you. I...uh... how are you doing?"
"I think I've been worse... Why were you looking for me?"
"Um... I was worried? You... kinda disappeared..."
Flux glances at the coffins around them, lacking the courage to ask if Jaxler was planning on occupying one soon.
"Flux, I don't like it when ponies worry about me... Because it's pointless, they'll will have only wasted there bucking time on a lost cause and get depressed when I fail."
"Then... stop doing things that make me worry. You're my friend, Jaxler. Am I not supposed to worry when my friends vanish while depressed?"
"Why the hell do you even call me your friend? By now most ponies would have given up on liability such as myself."
"Because... well, you're my friend, Jaxler. And I'm not going to give up on a friend when they're down."
"I'm always 'down' now aren't I. You know shit always bucking happens to me. I lose my family when I'm two years old, I get forced to become a thief so I can support me and my crippled grandfather. Then my freaking ethnic group gets erased along with my home civilization, and I'm left with so many damn mental scars that I can't even bucking keep the only legitimate job I've ever had. I've been mortally wounded twice, I don't know what my bucking 'special talent' is and you know what, I'M BUCKING DONE WITH IT! I don't know if the gods hate me, or if I was born to suffer but I can't handle this anymore, I'm... just... bucking... DONE WITH IT!" After finishing his rant he flung his forehoof as hard as he could into the coffin he was sitting by.
Flux jumps as he slams the coffin, but doesn't leave. Instead, he slowly walks closer.
"But... you can't give up, Jaxler. You're... probably the toughest pony I know. Needing to find a new job... that can't be the thing to break you... not after everything you've weathered. And you won't be alone."
"It's not that I can't find a job, it's just that it seems that all my life I've been set up to fail, and the more I try the worse things get."
Flux looks around the crypt for a moment.
"So how's not trying working so far?"
"I haven't eaten or drank anything in the last couple days and I have some mold growing up my side, so I guess I've been worse."
"Then... come eat? And get something to drink? And let Panacea look at the, uh... mold? Please?"
"Why? If I go one more day without water it's completely possible that I'll black out from dehydration and never wake up."
"Because I'm not giving up on you, Jaxler. Even if I have to drag you to Panacea myself."
Flux takes another few steps forward, hoping he'll see reason and come with him.
"...FINE..."
Jaxler then tried to force himself up on the ground, only to realize that the lack of water had made him far to week to stand up.
"Well buck, looks like I'm too dehydrated to even walk."
I sigh in relief, then carefully sling Jaxler over my back. He protests the entire way back to the hospital, and Panacea looks worried at how dehydrated and malnourished he looks, but she say's he should be fine. Well, physically, at least. Mentally... I knew he was far from fine. I leave him in Panacea's care as I leave. I could only think of one thing that might help Jaxler out of this mess he's in: fixing his crossbow.