Through Crimson Eyes

by Level Dasher

Chapter 3: A New Face

Honestly, this chemo really isn’t horrible, even after a couple of days. I don’t feel much different, but it does suck that I can’t go outside anymore. That last flight with High Flyer a few days ago was kind of a let-down. He let me fly to the park with him, but I guess I was waiting for Princess Luna to appear again, because up to that point, everything that happened that morning felt exactly like what had happened in my dream the night before…

I’m used to Dad being at work most of the time, and I don’t get to see him as much as I’d like during the week; he works some pretty late hours. He’s only been here once since I got admitted— the day after they told me I’d be stuck here. Mom told me he stopped by on the way to work, but I must have been on some weird meds or something that made me kinda loopy, because I don’t really remember him being here. I wouldn’t call that much of a visit. I don’t know what they’ve got him testing, but almost two weeks of not seeing my dad sucks pretty hard.

Mom’s been working on her computer a lot now, too. She hasn’t been going to the arts center because she’s usually here at the hospital with me, so she’s been video chatting with her violin students to see how they’re doing. Thank Celestia she’s finally using technology the right way— I’d been badgering my dad for ages to show her how to use that stupid computer. It’s good that Mom’s been occupied; it keeps her busy so she isn’t always worrying about me.

Daytime on weekdays has been really crummy. Since all of my friends are at school, I need to wait until the afternoon before anypony can visit. Even with my books and video games, it gets to be a drag around here…

“Hey Crimson, you got a minute?” I had a quick jolt before I realized High Flyer had opened the door. I need to make a point of asking ponies to knock first…

“Hey, High Flyer. Sure, what’s up?” He had just taken my vitals a few minutes before, so I didn’t know what he wanted this time. It didn’t take long to find out.

Still standing in the doorway, High Flyer asked me, “Well, it looks to me like you’ve been a bit bored lately, am I right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, there’s not much good stuff on TV during the day. Too many soaps.” Unfortunately, they’re called ‘Saturday morning cartoons’ for a reason.

“Well, there’s another colt in a room down the hall who’s been bored, too,” he said. “He’s about your age— would you like to meet him? I have a feeling you two might get along. I asked him if he would be interested in meeting somepony new, and he said he was. How about you?”

“Sure! What’s he like?” I’m always up for meeting new ponies.

“Ask him yourself! Come on in, buddy.”

High Flyer motioned out into the hallway, and I saw some hooves appear through the glass in my door. An earth pony colt with a darkish brown coat and… no mane… trotted in, followed by an IV pole with the usual stuff— medicine bags, heart monitor box, etc. He seemed to be about my size, but he looked a bit younger. I found it kinda strange that he decided to shave off his mane— it looked a little odd to me.

High Flyer made the official introduction. “Crimson, this is Blackhawk. Blackhawk, meet Crimson Star.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you.” He didn’t seem shy, and he wasn’t too forward. Good first impression.

“Hey there,” I answered. “Sorry, I’d get outta bed, but they just started me on chemo a couple days ago, and they still don’t want me doing anything funny.”

Blackhawk nodded and said, “Yeah, I know the feeling. Chemo sucks. I usually just read comic books when I have it. Makes the time go faster.” He trotted over to my bedside and pulled over one of the chairs.

I asked him, “You been on chemo a while?”

“Yeah. I was diagnosed with Neighlocytic Leukemia last year.” He pointed to his head and added, “You can see what it did to my mane…”

Uh oh… I voiced the question the second it popped into my head. “Wait, the chemo did that?”

“Yeah. It’s a little weird at first, but it’s not too bad,” he said, casually running a hoof over his head.

“Geez, I guess that’s gonna happen to me too, huh?” I like my mane. I don’t want to lose it…

“It depends— what are you on?” Blackhawk asked.

“Uuuuhh…” I didn’t know. I hadn't asked what it was called.

High Flyer chimed in from the door, “You’re getting Ribucksimab, Crimson.”

A smile crossed Blackhawk’s face. “Oh, then you should be fine. Ribucks usually doesn’t do squat. You said it’s been a couple days since you started; you don’t feel much different than normal, right?”

I started feeling better at this question, especially since I knew the answer. “Not really. I feel alright.”

Blackhawk nodded. “Then yeah, you’ll be fine. Ribucks isn’t that intense. If you were gonna have a reaction to it, it would’ve happened pretty quick.”

I let out a small smile. Whew… I like this colt. He’s cool in my book.

Blackhawk spent a good hour hanging out in my room with me. He showed me a few of his comics, and I showed him my favorite games. He got pretty excited when I told him Dad worked for Big Macrosoft— I guess he’s a gamer, too.

High Flyer called him back to his room when the doctors wanted him to do some tests. As first impressions go, he’s a cool colt. We’ll definitely need to keep a connection.

Blackhawk went back to his room at about one in the afternoon. Mom had stepped out so we could have some time to ourselves. I was surprised when she didn’t walk back in right away, but left me alone for a while instead. I don’t really know what she was doing— she probably had some back-to-back lesson slots.

While Mom was still out of my room, High Flyer came in to do something with my PICK line. I took the opportunity to ask him about it; something had been on my mind. “Hey, High Flyer, what does PICK stand for, anyway?”

He gave me a quick glance before he continued his work and explained, “Oh, it stands for ‘peripherally inserted central catheter.’ P-I-C-C. You probably thought it sounded like P-I-C-K, right?” I nodded. “Yeah, most ponies do before they know what it means. It’s basically just a fancy IV that lets us give you multiple fluids in one place at the same time.” He finished what he was doing just as he ended his explanation.

“Gotcha.” I shrugged. “I guess I just like to know what’s going on.”

“Well, based on your history, you probably know quite a bit,” High Flyer said. “I’d say the more you know, the better.” At least the questions didn’t bother him— he seemed happy to do a little teaching.

After High Flyer left, I used the alone time as an opportunity to write Miss Turner’s cousin that thank-you letter. It wasn’t too long, but I made sure to write in a few details from the book so he knew I had been reading it.

About an hour after Blackhawk left, Mom finally came back into my room. “Hey, sweetie. How are you feeling? Did you have a nice time with that colt? High Flyer told me you two seemed to really hit it off.”

I answered, “Yeah! He’s pretty cool— we’ll have to keep in touch. So, what have you been doing? I figured you were going to come back in after Blackhawk went back to his room, but you’ve been outside for like, an hour.”

“Oh, I’ve been talking to a few parents out here. Actually, one in particular who I think you might like to see…” She smirked as I saw her motion to somepony out in the hallway.

I had no idea what she was talking about. The only other pony I had met on the floor was Blackhawk. I hadn’t met any parents yet. I was totally confused…

…Until I saw the yellow hooves and wingtips in the glass. I wasn’t sure if I was seeing correctly until I heard the familiar voice: “Heya, Champ!”

“DAD!”

I almost hopped out of my bed, but he stopped me before I accidentally yanked out my PICC. “Woah, woah, hold up, buddy! Stay right there, I’m coming!”

When he trotted to my bedside, I sat up and threw my forelegs around his neck. I couldn’t believe he was here, especially at this time of day.

I asked him, “Dad, what are you doing here? Don’t you need to be at work?”

“Usually you’d be right, bud, but I had a talk with my boss yesterday. He let me leave early today, so I’ve got the rest of the day to hang with you.” He tousled my mane as I smiled up at him. “I also have to chat with you and your mother.”

“Huh? About what?”

“Well, I’ve been talking with your mom for a bit outside, so she knows, but let’s say we might have a lot more hangout time in the near future.”

“Really? Cool! But… then… when are you gonna work?” I asked him.

“Well, that’s the thing,” he said, putting a hoof on my shoulder. “I think I’m going to retire.”

Comments

[Dreams of Ponies]

Met a cancerous friend, heh. Sorry, couldn't help it, Level. A neat little chapter, and oh? How old is his dad to be able to retire? Also, I guess pony ages are cannonically different, so, mehh

[TheGreatEater]

8224224

Well considering they teach college level stuff in Elementary Schools there, and loads start their careers at the CMC age range. I'm betting retirement can be whenever they feel like not making money for their special talent, or have made enough to live off of. Rather than a set date (I mean we've seen ponies that are ancient still working, so I'm guessing there is no real set age for both working wage, and retirement.)