//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: Legion // by Mochas Dungeon //------------------------------// Ever Last laid in his bed, the sound of his parents shouting.  A common occurrence in his life.  The neighbors knew the routine, four nights a week.  Every night after his mother would return from work she’d begin shouting at his father for being a lazy, ignorant, stay at home stallion.         His other mom worked at the bookstore, earning a fraction of what she did and seeming to be a waste of a herd member.         What nopony knew, except for their small family herd was what would happen after the shouting ended.           Drinking.  His parents would drink, a lot.         His father would retire to bed with his mom while his mother would stay up, until going to his room.           “Ev?  You awake?”  she’d ask.           No matter if he was asleep or awake she’d approach and pat his side until she saw him stir.         “Please, mommy, I’m too sleepy.”         “Oh, don’t worry, I love you and you know that, right?”         He’d groan but she’d climb into his bed and wrap her limbs around him until she started to fall asleep.         Her foreleg would move in small circles on his side, slowly moving down his body.           “I love you, Ev,” she’d whisper into his ear before she bit it softly and let her hoof start rubbing his sheathed member.         “You’re the real stallion of this house.”                  He startled awake, alert and at the border of sobriety and the drug crash.         “What the heck happened,” he asked as he forced himself up, slipping but catching himself and groaning at the state of his living space.         “Please, Celestia, don’t let my room be ruined,” he whined, knowing it was the only safe room in the house.  The only room he took care of, just like he was raised to.  Just like his father liked.         He loved his father.  The only other pony in the world who knew the pain his mother would bring, but couldn’t do anything to stop it.         The town was small, and secrets were sparse, but their family secret would risk ruining more than their family.  Their family ran the local tavern, they’d lose business.  They’d lose money.  They’d lose their house.         He went to the counter and opened a door, quickly patching and bandaging his hoof, before he went to the closet and gathered what he needed to sweep the glass from the floor.         He wasted no time cleaning up the shards, stopping to snort the drugs from the table he sighed happily as he finished cleaning.  He had even wiped the vomit and rinsed the towels without noticing that he’d wiped his chest clean.         “Heh, drugs are awesome,” he chuckled as he put away his cleaning equipment and went to his room.         Frowning he sniffed the room and looked out the window, the only one with curtains drawn.  The afternoon light brightening his bed and sending a flash of memories he hated to the surface of his mind. He entered and quickly went to the closet, donned a tunic, and left his apartment.         “Oh, hello miss Mist,” he greeted his neighbor as he exited the apartments to the mare sitting outside on a rocker.         She forced a smile at him, knowing his bad habits and memory.         “Good late afternoon, Ev.  Have a good morning so far?”         “Oh, uh, I slept in.  I’ve gotta go see the doctor for my checkup.  You know, sleeping too much again,” he said as he walked past her into the dry street.         The rough, tan gravel roads were the bane of his hoof as he made his way through the town, smiling and waving.         He sighed and his heart ached as he approached the doctor’s office.         Fate was a cruel bitch.           The doctor had taken over his old house after his family had moved, years before.           He entered the house and stared at the floor, making his way to his father and mom’s room after the nurse pointed him to the exam room.         An hour later he was glass free and he was on his way to spend the next couple days living his life, working his job at the tavern, and stealing alcohol as he often as he could until his next day off.