//------------------------------//
// 6. Fear 
// Story: Quiet 
// by Koariangel 
//------------------------------//

	The two ponies enjoyed a quiet evening, sitting in front of the fire. They sat side by side, the bigger of the two still mostly covered in woodland creatures. The only disruption was every now and then when Fluttershy would get up to poke or add wood to the fire. Both seemed content to just watch the flames and let the crackling of the wood and the steady pounding of the storm outside fill the silence. 
Big Macintosh was the first to break the quiet with a yawn. Fluttershy glanced over at the stallion. His eyelids drooped lazily and every now and then his head would nod forward before jerking back up. Fluttershy looked at the clock on the mantle. It was already nine o' clock! She figured Big Mac was used to turning in earlier, so as to wake up early to start his work on the farm. But it can't already be nine! She was still stunned at how quickly time had passed; they'd only sat down for dinner at six. Had they really just been sitting in silence for a whole three hours? 
Looking back over the time, which seemed like the blink of an eye, Fluttershy noticed that it was very pleasant. There was no pressure to speak or disperse of the awkwardness, because there wasn't any. She had to admit that even with her other friends, she always felt the urge to say something, anything. With Big Mac, that urge didn't exist. It seemed as if he didn't expect her to speak, just as she didn't expect him to. It was quite refreshing. It was the kind of time that she actually wished could last for a lot longer...even though it had already lasted hours. Suddenly, she let out a tiny yawn of her own. 
"Well, I suppose we'd better get ready for bed," she announced, standing and stretching much like Rarity's cat, Opal. She looked over at the animals that still sat perched on Big Mac. "All of us," she emphasized. The critters took the hint and began to disperse, returning to their respective nooks, crannies, holes, and birdhouses scattered throughout her home. Even Angel was too drowsy to raise a fuss and hopped along with his mate and kids to their bed in the corner of the room. As her tiny charges began to turn in, Fluttershy was able to focus on her large one. She went to the hall closet and pulled out a pink quilt and pillow. When she returned to the living room, Big Mac had stood and stretched as well. "You can have my bed- upstairs and to the right. I'll camp out here on the couch," the host declared, preparing to make up the sofa for the night. 
"Nnope." After not hearing him speak for half the evening, suddenly hearing his voice startled the pegasus. 
"I-wha?"
"Nnope. Ah'll take the couch."  
Fluttershy was surprised to say the least. She was the host, and she wouldn't dare let her visitor be anything less than comfortable. Her mother had raised her better than that. It wasn't as if she could force him to take the bed, but she figured it was for his own good.
"But...but you're the guest.." she argued feebly.
"But yer a lady." The simple, casually spoken sentence set Fluttershy's cheeks aflame. Her brain quickly scanned the words and found that they had never been aimed at her before. Somepony like Rarity, perhaps, would be called such, and she even took the liberty of calling herself a lady. But for somepony to say those words to Fluttershy- to quiet, awkward, timid Fluttershy- made her chest feel funny. She stood there for a moment, looking up into the green eyes that seemed to believe what the earth pony said, and were not about to back down.
"Oh...w-well I guess you could sleep on the couch," she murmured, too flustered to pursue the matter. Big Mac nodded once in confirmation before situating himself on the sofa. It creaked slightly under his large frame. He took his yoke off, leaned it against the coffee table, and cozily tucked himself under the quilt. His host took the liberty of turning off the lights. Only the dim glow from the dying fire remained. "Goodnight, Big Macintosh. May Luna grant you sweet dreams," the pegasus bid quietly as she flapped towards the stairs silently. 
"G'night Fluttershy." She paused, unused to hearing her name fall from his lips. In the dark, she allowed herself a silly smile before floating up towards her room.



Big Mac lay on the couch, which was actually much more comfortable than he thought. He was willing to sacrifice an aching back for the sake of being the gentlecolt that Granny had raised him to be, but he was relieved to find that he would actually sleep soundly. The dying glow of the fire made the living room cozy, and the occasional rustle or tittering of animals in their makeshift homes throughout the cottage made it seem almost alive. The steady, unrelenting pounding of the rain outside combined with the ambiance to form a sort of rhythmic lullaby. He figured that after this, a quiet night in his room at the farm would make sleep quite impossible. Big Mac allowed his heavy eyelids to slide closed.
BOOOOOM! His eyes shot open and his whole body tensed as a sudden thunder strike shook the tiny cottage. It was deafeningly silent afterwards, save for the torrent outside. From his position on the couch, he could see the extent of the weather outside through the window. The wind had picked up as the storm grew in intensity. She did say a doozy. Big Mac rolled over, now facing the back of the couch and ready for a second attempt at sleep. This time he was already halfway asleep when-
POP! CRASH! "Gah!" Big Mac jumped into a sitting position, causing his blanket to fall to the floor. He looked around as his erratic heartbeat now matched the rhythm the rain had set. The animals, nestled in their holes and houses seemed undisturbed by the thunder demonstrating its power. He glanced over at Angel and his family, sleeping soundly as if the storm didn't exist. 
Huh. Guess animals're used to it.  He bent down to pick up his fallen quilt. SNAP! BOOM! Another merciless echoed through the sky. This time, Big Mac actually leaped from the sofa and shoved the front half of his body (since the rest of him wouldn't fit) underneath it. Me on the other hoof- ah'm a full-grown stallion that's still more scared than a cat at a dog show. He knew full well that he probably looked ridiculous: a large fellow like him hiding like a foal from something that couldn't actually hurt him. As he dwelled on his thoughts and his shame, he felt a tapping on his upturned rump.
"Uh...Big Macintosh?"
Oh pony feathers. Trying to salvage his reputation, he wiggled backwards until the front half of him was free. As he sat up, he looked to the side to see Fluttershy standing there, her head cocked in confusion in the dark. "Uh...hi. What're ya doin here?" He internally facehoofed. She kinda lives here.
"Hi. I came down for some water but...are you okay?"
"Ah-uh-eeyup! Ah just...dropped sumthin'." He plastered on a smile that she may or may not have been able to see in the darkness. 
"Oh...okay. Well then, I'll let you get back to sleep and-"
CRASH! In the split second of lightning that filled the living room, Fluttershy saw Big Mac's eyes double in size, his pupils shrink, and his front legs shoot out and grab the closest thing to him...which happened to be her. Not knowing what else to do, she kept herself still as he held her close. Being so close, closer than she'd ever been to him before, she noticed three things: he was very warm, he smelled like a warm summer day, and he was shaking. The dark hid the red color of her cheeks, but didn't hide the obvious fear of her guest. And she, for one, knew the crippling feeling of fear all too well. She very quickly put two and two together. "M-Mac?" she broke the silence, which seemed to bring him back to Equestria. She immediately regretted this decision as he suddenly released her, setting her back on her hooves, and scooted away slightly.
"Sorry," he muttered. She could see his silhouette sit back on the couch, far from her, and hang his head in a manner she was also familiar with. Though she couldn't see his face any longer, she could feel his shame and embarrassment. Fluttershy was at a loss. She very rarely knew the right thing to say, but right now it seemed more crucial than ever. But how could she encourage somepony, when she was often more scared that a dozen ponies combined? She tapped her chin in thought for a moment before an idea sparked. 
With a couple flaps of her wings, she propelled herself back up to her room and opened the drawer to her bedside table. Inside lay a light blue journal, covered with white, curvy lines that resembled clouds. Grabbing the journal in her mouth, she quickly flew back downstairs to where she stood before. She found that he was still sitting in the same position, with his head still bowed. She wondered if he was even aware of her brief absence. Definitively, she tossed the journal onto the coffee table. It landed with a resounding plop, gaining Big Macintosh's attention. 
"Do you know what this is?" she asked him, gesturing a hoof towards the object. His gaze focused on the light blue book, refusing to look up at his host. 
"Uh, a notebook?" he guessed. 
"This book houses all 248 of my fears... and counting." She made the statement boldly, though she was internally uncomfortable mentioning this to her new friend. Being a scaredy-pony wasn't exactly a good impression to make, but it was for his benefit. When Big Mac finally looked up from the book at her face, she figured she was on the right path and took a deep breath to continue. "You've probably guessed by now, but I'm not exactly the bravest pony around. I've always been that way, since I was a little filly. It was kind of shocking for somepony like me to be such close friends with a brave pony like Rainbow Dash. One day, I asked her how she was able to go through life without fear; she told me that she didn't, she just worked to conquer it. She suggested that I keep a record of what I'm afraid of and when I've beaten it. It really has helped, and I've kept  this journal going ever since. When I find a new fear, I write it down; when I've conquered one, I cross it out." 
Big Macintosh's gaze shifted from her back to the book. He reached a hoof towards it, but stopped short, looking back at her. "Oh, go ahead. It's not private," she assured him. As he used a hoof to open to the first page, she turned on a nearby lamp and fluttered over to sit next to him on the couch. The pages of the notebook were off-white with dark blue lines for to hold writing. The outside corners had the same cloud design as the cover. On each line sat each fear that the pegasus had recorded since her foalhood, in different colors as she'd used different pens throughout the years. Many of the fears were crossed off, also in varying colors. Big Mac focused on first line of the journal. 
Flying. He glanced over at the pegasus, who looked down with a bashful smile and rubbed the back of her head. "Heh heh," she giggled awkwardly. Big Mac noted that the fear was crossed out with green pen, and moved on. He skimmed each page, stopping every now and then when something caught his interest.
Performing. This one, written in pink ink, had a black dotted line going through it. "That one is still a work in progress," she admitted with a bit of pride. There were quite a few other entries that similarly had dotted lines, indicating that she was on her way to beating them. Others were struck through entirely. He figured a good one-third of the book had been crossed off. As he flipped through the pages, his hoof halted and pointed when he saw an entry halfway down page twenty-nine. 
Thunder. It was written in blue ink, and crossed out with red. Big Mac looked over at Fluttershy, with impressed and curious eyes. "How'd ya do it?" he asked. The pegasus yawned and smiled as the memory replayed in her head. 
"My parents are weather ponies. My dad, Torrent, is one of the storm captains in Cloudsdale. When I was a filly, my mother would be home with me and would see how scared I would get during a storm. Thunder is a lot louder in Cloudsdale, since we're up in the sky with the storm. One day, during one of my father's storms, I was hiding under the bed. My mom poked her head under there, smiling, and I'll never forget what she said: 'Now Fluttershy, what are you doing under here? Can't you hear that your father is bowling?'"
"Bowlin'?" Big Mac wondered, an eyebrow raised. 
"Bowling. She said that he'd get bored at work so he and the other weather ponies would bowl during their storms for fun. Of course I knew it wasn't true, but it was a lot easier to think of loud, scary thunder as a fun game. So whenever a storm came and there was thunder, somepony in my house would yell, 'Strike!'" When she finished her story, she looked over at the large stallion who still seemed a bit doubtful. 
"And it really works?"
"Well, after my mother told me that, the next storm that came didn't scare me one bit. Everytime the thunder struck, I'd either yell or think, 'Strike!' After that, I was able to cross it off in my journal once and for all." The pride she exuded in describing her dissipated fear was enviable and gave Big Macintosh a newfound determination. If she could master the cloud-shaking thunder of Cloudsdale, he could master the watered-down version here in Ponyville.
CRASH! Well, almost. Reflexively he grabbed Fluttershy again, since she was the closest thing to him. She once again felt his trembling form close to hers. Before he could bring himself to feel ashamed, he heard the pegasus within his grip yell,
"Strike!" Well, as much as a pony like Fluttershy could yell. She was not going to be a cheerleading captain anytime soon. But, her own declaration dispelled any fear she would've felt. Surely it could work for him. "See? When you think about it like that, it's not scary." Another rumble shook the house and her ears pinned themselves to her scalp as she made her declaration mentally. "It's just loud," she admitted with a smile. This drew a smile from Big Macintosh as well. 
BOOM! 
"Strike!" This time, both ponies called out together. They shared a look before sharing a laugh. 
"I think you're well on your way to crossing this off your list, Big Mac," Fluttershy decreed, letting out another mouse-like yawn. She suddenly felt very comfy and her bed seemed quite far away. Big Macintosh quickly realized that he was still holding onto his host and gently released her.
"Sorry," he apologized again. She gave him a sleepy smile.
"No problem," she murmured as another yawn obscured her words. Her eyelids were well on their way to covering her teal eyes and she leaned back against the back of the sofa. Though he'd physically separated himself from her, her sleepy form leaned over until she was also leaning on his side. At first, Big Mac didn't know what to do. He didn't want to move, let alone move her when she looked so comfortable. 
So much fer the lady sleepin' in 'er own bed, he thought. He honestly didn't know much about the situation. He'd never had a sleepover before... or many friends for that matter. He did know, however that sometimes this happened. Sometimes Apple Jack or Apple Bloom would have a friend over for the night, and sometimes they'd end up snuggled up close as they scooted their sleeping bags close together. Maybe it was normal. In her half-sleep state, Fluttershy reached her forelegs around what she could of his large frame, seeking warmth. She smiled as she rubbed her cheek against his abdomen. The sight made him smile in return and his decision was made. 
Putting one foreleg around the sleeping mare, he leaned over to turn off the lamp and reached down to pull the forgotten quilt over the two of them. Friends do this, right? He let his exhaustion wash over him, not even the occasional thunderclap could rouse him as his drowsy brain would respond with, Strike! He felt himself finally falling to sleep and mumbled a "G'night," to nopony in particular. Before finally succumbed to sleep, he heard a familiar, soft voice.
"Good night, Mac."