//------------------------------//
// Jinx 
// Story: NOT Doing Hurtful Things To Your Waifu 
// by The Derpy Doctor 
//------------------------------//

Forenote: I have absolutely NO information on whomever this is.
Jinx sat on her bed, scooting close to the side of it. Her arms stretched as far as they could onto the edge as she made an attempt to scoop herself off of the sheets. Her legs flailed as she pushed the worn body across the starchy, rough mattress.
Her eye twitched under the pain from her cut as she teared up. The bed was empty. Nopony sat in it next to her. He’d never sleep in the bed beside her. She knew for sure. The doctor said so himself. Her love was dead. He’d never move again and neither would her legs.

You are a pegasus.
You spend your day pulling the ambulance from the hospital to an injured pony. Your job is to do get there quickly so that whomever is hurt gets healed quickly. No day is normal to you. Every single day, you get a different pony in the cart behind you with some immediate harm done and you have to wheel the heavy load through the sky. But after doing it for so long, you become accustomed to  carrying such weight. You are able to carry some of the heaviest of ponies to the hospital from a wide variety of distances.
You’re finally done for the day. Your wings are very sore and you feel as if you’re going to collapse from this job as you are constantly worn down over and over from the weathering away of flying heavy loads to and from the Ponyville hospital. It’s time to walk home. You’re too tired to fly.

Dust kicks up around your hooves as they hit the ground. The sun sets slowly behind the mountains over Ponyville. The ground shakes under you. Or rather, your legs are too tired to refrain from giggling as you walk tiredly back to your home. Your mane begins to style itself as the constant shaking starts to form it into an unnatural shape.
You could swear that if you weren’t paying attention to the road in front of you, looking for even ground, you’d have fallen already. Rocks beneath you on the road below clamber and slip against the dirt and every hoofstep you feel your legs aching more and more. The uneven ground finally fails you and you fall forward.
“Hey, careful there!” said a playful voice above you. You look up to see the face of a green-coated mare with blue eyes standing taller than any mare you’ve seen before. Reason being: She was in a wheelchair. Your mind scrapes over itself trying to find a way to get up, but draws a blank. 	You’re dumb-founded and you’ve completely forgotten what it was you were doing whether it was from falling on your face or from being surprised by “mysterious wheelchair pony.” Perhaps it was from embarrassment of falling on your face on the same route you usually flew every day.
“Here, go ahead and use my wheelchair to let yourself up.” The mare offered calmly.
You help yourself up using the edge of the mare’s wheeled device, almost falling agins several times on your way up. You’re just that tired.
When you finally get to your hooves, you offer the mare a thank you and prepare to get back on your way before realising something.
“Can I help wheel you back to your house?” you ask.
“Why?” asked the mare.
“Well if we’re going the same way, then I leaning against your wheelchair will help me get home and you won’t have to wheel yourself there.”
The mare then stared blankly for a moment, making the connection before responding.
“Yes,” she responded.
You gingerly work your way to the handlebars on the back of her chair and start to move her in the direction you were going. You look down onto her to make sure she’s comfortable. Her eyes meet yours for a moment. No concern starts to build in hers, confirming that she’s comfortable with the exchange that is going on right now.

You move the chair slowly on the road, feeling your limbs get more and more relaxed as your weight is transferred off of your front legs and onto the chair beneath them.
“How long have you been in that wheelchair?” you ask, trying to sound understanding.
Again, the mare made some sort of attempt to gaze slightly up at you from her position. “I’ve been in one for about two weeks,” she answered. You suddenly realise this is obviously a very delicate subject. The wound of whatever accident had happened was still fresh and when you look down and make indirect eye contact, you can tell that just thinking about it hurt her.
A lump formed in Jinx’s throat and she now tried to focus on what the road looked like, averting her mind from the terrible thought of the 	accident.
“I’m sorry,” you apologise.
“It’s... fine,” she answered, the pause confirming: “no, it’s not all that *ahem* okay.
To clear the awkwardness generated by the previous conversation, you continue to another.
“What bands do you like to listen to?”
“I like to listen to Great Big Fish,” responded the mare.
“Really, that’s exactly what I like,” you say, completely avoiding another awkward conversation by pretending to have a clue what band she’s 	talking about.
“Cool,” She answered with some enthusiasm.
You reach you tired hoof back to scratch your head.
“Yeah,” you answer.

“This is it!” the mare yelled as you neared the front of her house. You look to the side and see the house with several support beams trailing from other part of the building as well as the ground. Nothing about it seemed insecure, why exactly did the architect that made this building so sure it would fall down without those support beams?
You shrug away you thoughts to help the mare up to her porch as you push slowly on the chair, guiding her up to the porch. Jinx thought deeply about what had just happened. She knew that you either very nice to push her here or just trying to know what was a good place to rob (ya know, since she’s in a wheelchair and can’t protect herself very well), but considering this is Ponyville, where everyone gets along and thieves are so rarely spoken of, ponies often call them “teefs,” due to lack of hearing the word, she assumed you were nice. She had to find some way to thank you.
“Thanks,” she said, a shy expression built on her face.
“You’re welcome,” you offered before turning to attempt at making your way home.
“Are you free later tonight?” Jinx asked, thinking too hard about the question. “Am I honestly going date somepony else two weeks after my late boyfriend died?” she asked herself, “No, no this is something he...probably would have wanted…”
“I’m free,” you answered.
Jinx almost cringed at your answer. This was either going to be really good or really really awkward.

The mare sat across from you at the table, picking at her food. She looked at the ceiling cautiously and watched either side of you, staring intently every which direction. Just looking in her eyes, you could tell that she thought this was a terrible idea, but not because she disliked you.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, trying to see into the very cautious mind of the mare.
“Nothing,” she responded.
Nothing <NO.THING> (verb) 1: guess what is wrong with me or what it is that I am doing, because I have not the strength or conscience to tell you. 2: nothing.
You stare back at her, uncomfortable at her suspicious answer. Nopony says “nothing” the way that she said it and means it.
Her eyes finally flicker at you and look somewhere else, avoiding eye contact and staring more towards the ceiling.
“What?” she asked.
“There’s something wrong,” you say, “what is it? Is it me?”
“No it’s… nothing,” again, she stared off into space.
You still stared confused at her. “You can tell me,” you say, your voice contracting an offended tone.
“It’s…” Jinx started, her voice cracking. There was a long pause. Tears came to her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” you ask again, trying to sound as if to tell her that her response is accepted.
“I can’t.”
The waiter came with the check just then, giving the mare a strange look before leaving. 
“It’ll be okay,” you tell her, getting ready to leave, “C’mon, we’ll go.”
You then wheeled the mare outside to the cart and took her back to her house before taking her up to her front porch.
“Goodnight,” you tell her, again turning away to get back to the cart.
“I’m sorry,” she interrupted your leave.
“It’s okay,” you say confused over what it was she was sorry for and again, you prepare to walk back to the cart.
“It was my fault,” she finally acknowledged.
“What was?”
“It’s my fault we’re here in this awkward situation. It’s all my fault that I’m in a wheelchair. I’m sorry everything went weird tonight. It was all my idea and we wouldn’t even have done it if I hadn’t…”
“No, really, you’re really nice, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologise,” you try to reason.
“But you can get hurt and…”
“Why?”
“Well it’s just…” a tear fell out of the mare’s eyes, “everypony that gets close to me seems to get hurt and two weeks ago I really pushed my luck and got somepony killed.”
Your eyes widen slightly at the thought that she killed somepony out of an outrageous circumstance.
“And now he’s dead and I’m an a wheelchair due to the ceiling above us caving in. And if I hadn’t gotten close to him then neither of us wouldn’t be hurt and now there’s a chance you’re going to be hurt as well as I, and I don’t want…” Her voice trailed off.
You pause for a moment before restarting the uncomfortable conversation. “If you thought I’d get hurt then why did you ask me out tonight?”
“Because I feel safe around you. I forgot for that moment that I was dangerous and enjoyed being around somepony nice enough to wheel around a stranger like me and I wanted to thank, but instead I ended up embarrassing both of us.”
“That’s okay, I’m not embarrassed.”
Jinx wiped away a few tears.
“And I’ll never let anything bad happen to you. Don’t worry about me. Tonight was great. I wouldn’t trade tonight if I would otherwise live forever.”
Jinx grinned at your words.
“And whatever happens after tonight doesn’t matter ‘cause spent my last one with somepony special.”

Nopony’s life is jinxed against him/herself.
Nopony should think that they don’t deserve love, because it’ll hurt.
Everypony deserves to be held regardless of her cripple.