//------------------------------//
// Before The Princess 4: Words We Couldn't Say 
// Story: Adventures of Diamond Dancer (Mission Logs) 
// by RarityEQM 
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“Whadda MEAN you're goin to ponyville without us?! What in Tartarus, Diamond?” Star Strider barked, forcing my ears to lay back against my skull. I didn’t know how else to break the news. Tact wasn’t exactly my strong point, and I was struggling to figure out a decent way to telling them.

“I’m…I’m goin solo. From here on out. “ I stammered. I didn’t know how to phrase it. How do you tell your closest friends your dying and there’s nothing they can do? How do you burden them with the knowledge that you’ve managed to contract a fatal disease trying to save them? There wasn’t enough money left for a cure. This wasn’t Horn Rot. Horn Rot had a treatment. Horn Rot had a cure. It was expensive, but it was there. This had no cure. Not for me. What was I supposed to say? 

“I…I thought you were one of us. We just risked it all to SAVE you! I taught you. I taught you everything! EVERYTHING!!! I taught you how to survive! How to live, how to steal, how to eat, how to keep your sorry tail out of jail! I taught you EVERYTHING ….except loyalty you miserable little wretch. “ Strider hissed. I winced. That hurt. A lot. 

“…S-Stridah…S-Stridah, please, it ain’t like dat! It ain’t like dat at all, I swear!” I sputtered. My mouth felt funny. Ever since I'd gotten out of the hospital, it feels like my tongue is kind of numb. But that didn't matter at all now. Strider had my attention and he was in a mad rage now, pacing back and forth, snarling. 

“I get it, Diamond. Ooooooh, I get it. Miss Miracle Mare. Miss Fantastic Filly. I flippin get it. You think your too good to hang out with us losers now, huh? Is that it? You think now that you’ve got a ‘title’ you’re gonna go live it up with the big shots? Don’t think I don’t know what your up to. You’re not going to ponyville, you little tramp. You’re going to Canterlot, aren’t you?” He snapped. I bawked. 

He was right. I don’t know HOW he knew that was the plan, but he was right. I was heading to Canterlot. Ponyville was just a stop along the way. Technically, I didn’t lie when I said I was going to Ponyville, but he’d seen right through my deception. I should have known better: Strider was the one who taught me how to lie in the first place. 

“You’re gonna head to Canterlot aren’t you? Then what? Whats next for the Fantastic Filly, huh? Ask Princess Celestia for a royal room at the castle? The Miracle Mare deserves one, is that it? Maybe ask for a job befitting of such a celebrity? “ Strider asked, spitting on the ground in front of me. I swallowed quietly, sadly, and shook my head, tears in my eyes. But it wasn’t enough to dissuade him. There was nothing I could say now to fix this. 

I was going to Canterlot. I was going to talk with the Princess, that was true. But he was wrong about WHICH princess I was going to be speaking with. I wasn’t going to talk with Princess Celestia. I was going to talk to Princess Luna. I didn’t want a room, I didn’t want anything other than to thank her. 

Princess Luna made the stars in the night. I trained everyday to fly as high as I could to touch one, every single day. I never came close- but all that training paid off- it let me break the world’s record, and that let me save Criss Cross. As far as I was concerned, I owed Princess Luna everything. Even if I was going to die, cold and alone, curled up like a fist protesting death, the last thing I wanted to do in this world, was give my thanks where it was due. 

Strider could never understand, and I could never tell him. Words I couldn’t say. I’d rather him hate me, than cry for me-and anguish my death knowing there was nothing he could do to save me. 

“SO GO ON!!” He barked, pointing a hoof away from the circle of us. Away from him. Away from my friends. Towards my end. I turned and stared at them for one last time. My friends. The closest thing I had to a family.

Punchline. Our little earth pony prankster. Always laughing, always smiling, always optimistic. Always with a joke. He was staring at me silently. I couldn’t read him. I hoped he wasn’t angry too…but when he was silent, he usually was. I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to put the smile back on his face. I wanted to hug him, and hear one of his lame jokes. Just one more time. But those were words I couldn’t say. 

Sunset, with her long brilliant red hair, and golden eyes. Her pretty perfect pristine coat, and gentle looking wings. She was motherly, and mature, quiet and hopeful. She was searching me for my reasoning. I know she was. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to let her know I wasn’t abandoning them, and I wasn’t running away, I just couldn’t let them watch me die. But those were words I couldn’t say. 

Criss Cross looked …Criss cross looked like he was holding back tears and holding back rage at the same time. Like he was hiding behind his cracked glasses, and trying to remain as cool and stoic as ever without the slightest hint of emotion towards me or the drama encircling us. He was the reason all this was happening. He was the source, the cause, the disharmony that set me on my path to destiny. He was the reason I had my Cutie Mark. He was the reason I had my title. He was the reason I had my disease. He was everything to me- and there wasn’t a thing I could do to tell him so. Those were words I couldn't say.

I turned around quietly, and shut my eyes- trying to hold back my sobs until I was well out of earshot. It didn’t last. A hoof tapped me on the shoulder. Criss Cross was standing next to me, and before I knew it, we were hugging. Tightly. 

You don’t need magic, sometimes. You don’t need to be psychic, or have a ‘Pinkie Sense.’ Sometimes you just need a connection with another pony, as tragic as it is, to say the words you couldn’t say. 

And right there, at that moment, in that time, we both said everything we needed with that simple hug. That crushing, trembling, sob filled hug, choked with emotion and tragedy. I told Criss Cross everything I needed to tell him with that hug, and he told me the exact same things. I took a step back and so did he. 

We saved each other, and we were even. We were square and the words we couldn’t say, wanted to say, and needed to say, hung silently in the air. Everything we could have said was said in that hug, and in that hug was cruelty at it’s finest. 

There were no more misadventures to be had. No more thievery in the afternoon to fill empty tummies; working together to pull off a heist of bread and sandwiches. No more late night star gazing, and talking about what it would be like to have a family. No more cuddling together in the winter for warmth, whispering jokes and falling asleep wondering if the guards would find you dead in the morning. These were the last of my Manehatten memories. .

I wasn’t going to see Criss Cross again. That hug was a lament, freedom, a testament, tragedy and heartbreak all rolled into one. He didn’t look at me when we shattered our embrace. He didn’t have to, and I didn’t want him to. 

“Don’t come back.” Star Strider snarled. I nodded my head. With only five months left to live, I wanted to tell Star Strider; my friend; my brother; my partner- not to worry. That I was sorry. That I loved him and I'd come back, and we could be friends again. A family again. And things would be ok. 

But those were words I couldn't say.