Hospice

by Regidar

Prologue

Dedicated to Vocal Brony and MidnightDancer

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Prologue

Before diving into this, some background might be useful.

They moved to the town when he was very young, a foal maybe of the age that one typically gains their cutie mark. He got his shortly after, and his mother insisted it was wonderful, but he wasn’t so sure. He was never sure.

He only made a few friends—three, to be exact—and they will make all the difference in this story. Three is the number of true friends he made, for there were many other friends that did not last, or were not true at all, that he made while in the town.

He has visions. Delusions, one might and should call them, for they served almost no purpose but to grate on his psyche until he was screaming for everything to stop, for the perpetual motion of the world to cease, for him to get off the ride and go home. At least, that’s what he thought.

He loved. A lot. He loved too much, in fact, and ended up getting hurt so very many times. He stuck it out until the end, however, when other ponies could not. He grew, even if it was in a crushed and misshapen sort of way.

He lives out his days in the cottage where he and his mother first moved to, where he returned after living with the Apple family for nearly ten years. He lived there with a few others, none of which had particularly harmed him, until that one.

She, the one he lived with, had phantom pains throughout the night, and a personality to match. Something or other had him rushing to her side, to hold her and comfort her when the pains started, but she lashed out and kicked him in the face, knocking him to the floor so many times that it became difficult to count them all.

His father was gone now. He died in a hospice, which prompted him to work in one. He talked to patients, cheered them up, suggesting smiles and attempting to give them a bit of piece before they slowly slipped from the world.

He could not even begin to understand the complicated web that he was slowly being woven into, but something kept him standing by that hospital bed, night after night...

Nights were always an odd time for Caramel.

He wasn’t sure why, exactly. He knew on some level why they ended up being so odd, but he couldn’t place for sure. He just ended up putting the feeling on the back burner and dealing with the problem in the present.

He trotted down the small path that led to his cottage, which was near the far end of Ponyville, tucked away from the other houses and somewhat close to the Everfree forest. He had once been told that this house was somewhat unique, as only one other house was built in a similar location a bit of a ways from there, occupied by a pony named Fluttershy. It was a rather enjoyable place, the beauty of nature being so close to the quaint cottage.

Caramel opened the door as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb the sleeping body that he knew inhabited his home. He was going to avoid that assured frustration, and skipped straight to his favorite part of the night: tea.

He carefully and silently trotted past the living room, taking a left turn to head through the dining room, and entered the kitchen. The stove was where it always was, black kettle waiting for him. He smiled, took the kettle by the handle in his mouth, and filled it up with water at the sink nearby.

“Would you like some tea, sweetheart?”

Caramel put the full kettle on the stove. He opened the compartment for the wood, and placed in a few logs in, sighing as they rested upon each other neatly. Starting a flame with some nearby flint, he watched as the flames danced and consumed the tinder.

He walked slowly to the table in the dining room, and sat down in one of the chairs, back legs tucked under him and forelegs resting on the table. Taking a long breath, he looked over at the opposite side of the table. An older mare sat there—still beautiful even though she was heading into her middle ago—looking over at Caramel.

“Yeah, mom, I’m making some right now,” he responded, returning her gaze from across the table. “Clears my mind, you know...”

“Had a rough month?” she asked, giving her son an empathetic look.

Caramel puffed his cheeks out and gave a long sigh. “That doesn’t even begin to describe it... things have gotten very bad since the last time you came to visit.”

“Did you have those dreams again, Caramel?” his mother inquired. Her face showed concern for her son, her mouth in a small frown, her face creased with worry.

Caramel looked down at the table.

“No... no, the dreams didn’t show up, thank goodness,” he lied. “I’ve just been having a lot of trouble with... relationships.” This time, he spoke the truth, but as many often do, he did not tell the whole story.

His mother nodded sympathetically. “Caramel, it’s all going to be okay, I promise you. You’ll work through it, just like you always have. What have I always told you about your cutie mark?”

A small, sad smile crept over Caramel’s face. “That the three horseshoes mean I’m the luckiest colt in all of Equestria.”

The older mare smiled back at him. “That’s right. You’ve just got to find that luck. You always were able to pull through, even as a foal, even after what happened to your father, even after what happened to y-you...” Her voice cracked slightly, as though she were about to break down into sobs.

Caramel put his hoof next to his mother’s, his smile less sad and far softer, kinder. “It wasn’t your fault, mom; none of it was. You did the best you could.”

”But was my best good enough?” She stared at Caramel, shifting in her seat slightly. Caramel did not return her gaze, instead focusing his eyesight elsewhere. He couldn’t bear the scrutiny of her azure eyes.

“I...” Caramel’s words failed him. “I don’t think we should talk about it. Keep things nice and pleasant, you know? Not worry about something we can’t do a thing about.”

She gave him a look, and let out a long sigh, many of which seemed to have been passed around this evening. “Well, alright. How has everything been going in your life, sweetie?”

Caramel laughed nervously. “Oh, jeez... it’s not been a fun month at all.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin!” Caramel exclaimed, somewhat exasperated. “There’s been so much turmoil, so many decisions, so many upheavals and changes... Dear Celestia, it’s been a nightmare!”

His mother’s cheeks moved oddly, which Caramel recognized as her chewing on her tongue. She always did so when she was thinking, or anxious. “Are you still friends with Roseluck?”

Caramel smiled. “You remember her?”

His mother nodded. “I know that... that circumstances arose shortly after you met her, but I could tell you two would stay friends for a very long time.

Caramel returned her nod. “Yes, we are still very good friends. She and her special somepony, Daisy, are getting married soon. I’m very...” The words caught in his throat, and he blinked. “Happy.”

“That didn’t sound like you were very happy.”

Caramel rested his forearms on the table, and rested his head on his limbs, staring at the cup of tea steaming before him. “It’s a very complicated situation, mom.”

She nodded her head. “Alright then. I won’t ask anymore if you would prefer not to talk about it.”

“That would be good.”

Slowly rising, he quietly walked towards the kitchen. “What are you going to get?” his mother called after him.

“Shh!” Caramel said in a hushed whisper. “You’ll wake her!”

“Her?” His mother cocked an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she’s sleeping upstairs. I don’t want her to wake up, she’s been one of the ones causing... problems...”

“Is she the same one you told me about last time?”

“Yeah.”

His mother sighed for the umpteenth time, and removed herself from the chair she was sitting on. Trotting slowly over to Caramel, he watched her as she flickered and gleamed as though a hologram.

“Is she really there?” she asked him. “Or are you just hoping she is?”

Caramel didn’t have an answer.

Comments

[SlashopentheSky]

Is his mother alive?
Does that real-life connection from the first caramel-roseluck story still apply here?

[The Watcher 509]

The thing one will notice here is that his mother seems to be gone, or a hallucination.

[fuck mcdickbutt]

Uh

wat

A plot

K

[-Brutus]

Ohhhh, this intrigues me!

[Dustchu]

Hmmm... interesting, I like where this is going.
Its intriguing.

Nice job.