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// Distance to be Crossed 
// Story: Old Flame 
// by Bateman66 
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What followed the next few days was a massive blur of activity. Wherever a job needed doing, I was there beforehand to do whatever was necessary. Broken drawer? Glue and nails. Dusty floor? Broom and pan. Rotten food? Garbage and gloves. But what most caught my attention was the level of care Neuro had given to his living space in terms of neatness. That is to say, none at all.

It was almost breathtaking how messy he kept his living quarters. Not only in the stagnant grime that crusted along the most unusual of places, more so, the absolute disregard for order or organization in the massive home he inhabited. Books and papers were stacked and thrown every which way, dirty dishes lie scattered about, nothing looked properly vacuumed and don't get me started on his dusting!

Needless to say, Neuro had constructed a challenge for me to undertake. And by the end of my stay here, no matter how long it was, I will have this domain tamed.

I started small. Everything I could find was organized into piles of similar items. Any object that looked like trash I immediately tossed. The items of seeming usefulness were then divided into groups of similar attributes. Books, writing utensils, papers, folders, binders, dishes, scarfs, degraded inkwells, stampers, stamps, boots, forks, bowls, and a shiny pocket watch.

Once I divided everything I found a few boxes in a nearby closet and carefully placed the objects into them. Neuro would be able to decide just what to do with them. But for now...

I paced around the kitchen I'd just cleared out and pondered just what to do from here. There of course was more work to be done around this near mansion of a home. Neuro was following his cycle of morning work in his study. He'd be thoroughly surprised of my progress in the kitchen and main atrium instead of my typical work upstairs.

Overall, I was fairly impressed with the progress I'd made in the short time. My energetic fervor had propelled me to clean and fix whatever I could find, and I felt a welcoming sense of satisfaction every time I did it. For the first time in a long time, I was in control of something. Perhaps it wasn't the the most important things in the world but it stilled mattered...to me.

I had Neuro's study room door open and heard his clicking hooves down the hallway long before he entered the room. He regarded my hard work with a raised eyebrows as he walked among it.

"Alistair," he declared in subdued exclamation, "this is quite impressive. I would have thought you'd be hung up all day with the kitchen. I'm surprised you completed it so quickly."

I smiled proudly. "I just got into the work."

"I'm glad you did. I'll admit I'm not the best at keeping on top of housework. In fact, I'm downright awful with it. I'm sorry if I seemed a bit careless in giving you this much to fret about."

"Fooey," I said waving the sentiment aside. "It's been awhile since I've got to work with my hands. I forgot how much fun it could be."

He maneuvered through the kitchen as if the clutter was still present (force of habit I guess) and opened up the refrigerator I'd taken the time to give a good once over. Taking a bottle of water, he responded once he'd taken a few sips. 

"We haven't had much chance to talk since you arrived."

I shrugged. "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" he said behind a pursed lip. "You came all this way just to visit with you and I've barely given you the time of day. It doesn't seem all that fair on my part if you don't mind me saying."

"Keep in mind that you weren't expecting me coming in the first place. I didn't even send you a letter for goodness sakes. If you'd been anypony else the door probably would or should have been slammed in my face. Hospitality normally isn't that far-reaching if you know what I mean."

Neuro eyed me closely for a moment, his hoof placed in through across his chin. I got the sudden feeling he was observing some behavior or speech pattern I was inadvertently displaying. It was only for a split second but I was still discomforted by the expression that he held.

Chuckling, he wandered over to the kitchen table and sat down. "I don't think most ponies would turn away someone like yourself if they ever appeared at their doorstep. But the fact of your surprise visit shouldn't be justification for me not spending time with you. I want to do something with you."

"That being?"

"I'm not sure, not yet at least. I unfortunately still have some work to take care of at the moment but from then I'll be entirely open until my next trip to the University."

"And when would that be?"

"Give or take four days. You could come with me if you'd like. I would appreciate the help in carrying my things to the station."

That was both an appealing and appalling deal. I wouldn't mind doing something productive to keep my mind busy but going back to Canterlot would open an entirely new can of trouble I'd been trying to avoid coming here in the first place. Something told me I'd more than likely pick the trip to Canterlot over scratching around all by myself in this giant house, however, I prayed that wouldn't be the case.

But I really just wanted him to leave entirely and let me get back to work. My stride was being broken by this lapse in activity and I could feel the self-imposed clouds in my mind begin to break. I needed to bring them back, I needed them to shield me in a place like this. Giving a quickened response, I said:

"I'll consider it."

"Please, do so. I'd appreciate the company." He glanced at the room's wall clock and straightened himself out of his chair. "Now if you'd excuse me, I need to get back to work. We can talk later."

And just as quickly as he'd entered the room, he was already behind the corner back in his office. I wordlessly got back to cleaning, very much relieved at his exit. 


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The first thing that came to mind once I got back to my rough outline on the connection between differing air pressures and brain electricity was how I'd spoken to Alistair on every sentence through every word. I was concerned that I'd come off a bit cold in our brief exchange and fretted that I may have disappointed him in some regard.

True, my typical mannerisms had been through to the wind the first day he was here (absolute shock tended to do that), but now that I was back in control it seemed he wasn't warming up to my outward facade.

I'll admit it is a bad habit of sorts but one that dictates my authority much better than my normal persona. I'm always aware of when I act in this way, as one could tell in the difference between my demeanor and my own thoughts. It's just connecting the two, especially after staying in this state for so long, that proves to be much more difficult.

If I'd been observing myself as a psychologist I probably would have attached some sort of label or title to this predicament. Thankfully, that was not the case and I continue to focus on the important task at hand.

Alistair's visit was proving to be an unexpected gift in so many ways. That creeping vertigo of my own home I'd experienced earlier was being put at bay by the added liveliness. He wasn't a rambunctious young man in both of the instances we met. More so, the mere presence of another soul gave me an indescribable amount of closure when moving between the halls, especially at night.

Again, I was starting to realize the discomfort I felt in this home alone. The many corners, corridors, rooms and windows was much too large for any one pony. Add that with the history this massive near-mansion held, and I was close to living in something of a horror movie.

But the boy still seemed unsure about his current standing. I knew I'd need to be much more gentle with him than I typically acted and I took note to display that added warmness the next we spoke. Besides that, however, he still appeared distracted by something.

My best guess was that it was something pertaining to where he'd been these past two years. I had purposely distanced myself to any news story or article pertaining to his exploits after we'd spoken. I didn't desire to be reminded of my involvement with him or feel the crushing void of guilt that gnawed away at my insides.

Which meant I'd have to start with little research on exactly what he'd been doing for so long. He'd glazed over the details a few days prior but I sensed he'd been keeping the information vague for a reason. Interesting...

I immediately got to work on writing an express letter to the University's Library for as much archived information they had on Alistair and anything relevant to his exploits. I'd retrieve whatever they sent me covertly from my deposit box in town. It'd be real quiet, with the boy being none the wiser.

This wasn't a repeat of what happened last time. It was a simple fact finding job. No one was going to get hurt and no one was going to be aware of it. I just wanted to know a little bit more about him, that was all. He'd be safe this time. I promised myself that.