A King's Return

by Maulkin

4 - Of Hooves and Horseplay

The wadded up ball of newspaper jittered and swooped through the air like a drunken housefly, floating erratically under the dubious control of my ghostly white nimbus of magical energy. “Fuck, come on,” I grumbled, trying to make the damn thing simply float there, but continued to fail miserably. I glared, squinting and staring at it, making all manner of faces at it, and even cursing at it – though the last wasn't really a stabilizing tactic so much as an expression of frustration – but nothing could make the damnable thing stay as it floated.

My brother, who had been amazed moments before as I made it float with my mind, could only snicker at my poor display of magical prowess. “That's... That's really something, yeah,” he said sarcastically. “I'm sure it'll be useful if you need to annoy someone.”

I grumbled in frustration, doing my best to ignore him, and tried to make the damn thing do what I wanted. With a growl I whipped it in front of my face and 'pushed' it from all sides, making the nimbus turn from ghostly pale to solid white. It finally stayed in the same place rather than flying across the room. Unfortunately it now jittered and vibrated too quickly to see it clearly, looking like an object in the videogame that was trying to clip through another. “Stupid... Little... THING! WHY WON'T YOU OBEY ME?!” I roared with fury, livid at the scrap of paper, and wished for nothing more than its complete and utter destruction.

Before I could blow a vessel, however, the bright white glow surrounding the scrap of paper turned an eerie green. A moment later it crackled and ignited. I gasped, shocked – that was new! – but immediately regretted it as I hacked and coughed up the newspaper's charred remains.

One glass of water and several nose-tissues later, I gave my brother a triumphant grin. “HAH! I can BURN things with my mind!” I crowed, getting to my feet and looking down at the pile of ash with more than a little pride. Not only had I done magic, I did something awesome with magic! Pyrokinesis! So what if it wasn't intentional, it was my first day – I was still learning. The important thing was that I had the potential... And... And...

The power.

The thought of that kind of power was, well... Simply intoxicating. It was so easy to lose myself, imagining everything I could DO with that kind of power, even in its infant stages. Each mental image more satisfying than the last. The night before, I hadn't even owned a gun – my parents wouldn't allow one in the house, unfortunately. Indeed, all my life I had been subject to bullies, and oftentimes they were physically stronger than me. I always had to rely on others for protection from the greatest threats, be it the police or the school authorities. But... I didn't need them anymore, I realized. I didn't even really need a gun, though it couldn't hurt to have one. Even without one, though, I would never be unarmed or helpless so long as I was conscious. If someone attacked me, I could just push them against something hard and knock them out cold. I could humiliate them, even – strip them down to their underwear and set them up somewhere high, they'd never mess with me again! I thought back to some of the humiliations I endured in school at the hands of petty, cruel bullies... I could make them suffer for what they did to me, suffer tenfold – no, a hundredfold – for disrespecting me, for thinking they were better than me-

“J-James?”

I snapped out of my reverie, momentarily confused, and then shuddered as I more fully examined where my thoughts had been going. It wasn't often that I'd gone to such a dark place – not since leaving high school had I entertained such thoughts – but it was disturbing that I could slip back into them so easily. But... No. No, I'd never do any of that. I wasn't that kind of person – I wanted justice, not vengeance. I wondered uneasily just how far my mind may have gone if Luke hadn't interrupted my musings. A wad of paper was one thing, but... I couldn't use my magic like that, not against another person. Not except in the most dire circumstances... “Wh-what?” I asked sheepishly, grateful he wasn't privy to my thoughts.

He kept his distance, watching me warily as if I was a wild animal. Indeed, he'd somehow made it to the other side of the room without my noticing, and was standing near the window as if ready to take off. “Your eyes,” he mumbled nervously, not looking away from me for even a moment. “They were weird there for a minute – all green and glowy, and I think... I think they were smoking a bit.” He gave a nervous laugh, perhaps thinking himself silly, but he was still poised as if to defenestrate himself at any moment.

'That looks just like Somb-' I squashed the thought before it could form, and shook my head to try to disperse my growing unease. I might be turning into him, physically, but I wasn't that vile despot – I wasn't perfect, but I tried my best to be a good Christian and follow all the rules. Good Christians don't do those things; I was a good Christian; therefore, I didn't do those things. 'They also don't think those things,' a small part of me thought, and I quickly shoved that thought away. I didn't do those things – I followed the rules, I did everything I was supposed to do – and that should have been enough.

I thought of a quick lie to put him at ease. “Oh, my eyes were just, umm... M-magic, you know?” I stammered, giving a forced smile. “It's unpredictable – who knows how it works, really? I'm just flying blind here...”

He nodded and relaxed slightly, seemingly satisfied with my answer. “Yeah... Yeah, you're probably right.” He scratched his neck, neither of us able to dispel the awkward silence. I was just starting to wonder if I should just walk away and go about my business as if nothing had happened when he suddenly snapped his fingers and grinned. Confused at the sudden change of demeanor, I stared. “Right! I forgot to tell you – err, show you. Anyway, look!” He turned about and awkwardly lifted the back of his shirt.

“Dude, what the hell-” I started to complain, shocked by his sudden disrobing and hoping it wouldn't go any farther, but stopped when I saw something blue protruding from his upper back. Two somethings, actually – two feathery somethings that twitched as if they had a life of their own.

“Well, what do you think?” he asked sheepishly, obviously trying not to smile too broadly, “I wanted to show you earlier, but you distracted me with that whole 'magic' spiel.” He stood there, awkwardly flapping his stubby wings like a child showing off a prized drawing. I snorted, rolling my eyes – I could have achieved much the same effect with some buffalo wings and a staple gun, I didn't see what he had to be proud of...

Clearly, he thought differently. “Th-that character you showed me last night – Flying, was that its name?” he asked, nervous and excited. “He had wings too, right? A-and if you can do magic... Maybe... Will I be able to fly?”

“His name was Soarin,” I corrected testily – we were drunk when I showed him, yes, but was it really that hard? “And as for flying... Well, those things look far too small to fly with,” I said dismissively, annoyed that he'd tried to one-up me.

His face fell as he looked over his shoulder, eying the stubs. “You sure?” he asked quietly, no longer flapping. In fact, he sounded almost depressed, like... Oh. Oh damn.

I blushed, realizing what a dolt I'd been, and tried to salvage it. “Well... Not right now,” I hastily amended. “But if they keep growing... Probably? Yes?” I hadn't realized how much hope he'd invested in those two little stubs – perhaps the thought of flying was the only bright point of the entire ordeal – and I'd almost dashed it completely like an ass.

“You sure?” he asked, brightening up once more at that morsel of hope.

I sighed and gave the wings a critical look. They were small, yes, but perhaps that wouldn't be an issue; if the popular theories were correct, pegasi didn't really fly with their wings so much as use their own instinctive form of magic to control the air around them with those wings. Besides, they almost certainly weren't full sized yet; if they had grown that much in only a few hours, it certainly wouldn't be long before they were fully sized. “Yes,” I said resignedly, praying I wouldn't have to take it back later. “Yes, you'll be able to fly, I'm sure.” If the changes were going to be continuing – and I had no reason to think they weren't – he would probably have a rougher time than I would. I was getting magic, even if I was going to look a bit scary, and magic was an adequate substitute for arms and hands. Besides that, I was more comfortable with ponies than he was – he was more of an outside observer who thought the whole 'brony phenomenon' was funny, and if things continued as they were he was going to be more intimately familiar with all things 'pony' than nearly anyone else. He needed all the encouragement he could get, and if he looked forward to flying, I wasn't going to take that away from him... Even if reality took it away later.

His wings buzzed like a hummingbird's, and I couldn't stop myself from cracking a smile – he seemed really, really excited at the prospect of flying. Far more than I would have been, even though the thought was tempting. Even so, I wouldn't give up magic for flight – if our positions were reversed, I would have been superbly jealous. Still, no reason to rain on his parade. “Seems like you're really looking forward to flying,” I said guardedly. I could already feel a stiff burst of air coming from his direction, much more than I would expect from such tiny protrusions of flesh and feathers. Perhaps there was good reason to hope after all.

He nodded seriously at my comment, grinning from ear to ear. “Yup! I dunno, I just feel really cooped up in here. And I've, well,” he blushed, but continued unashamed, “I've always wanted to fly. You remember how I've had dreams of flying ever since I was a kid, right? And now, well...” He blushed as if admitting some great and terrible secret, and muttered, “it just feels, well, natural? Yeah. It feels natural thinking that I'll be able to fly soon.” He craned his neck and looked at stubby growths on his back, grinning like a kid in a candy store, and finally lowered his shirt. “I can't wait for these babies to fill out, that'll be so coooool!” he said, practically bouncing. “If I could just fly, it'd totally make up for the hooves.”

I smiled to myself – he seemed to be taking all of this much better than expected. “Oh yeah, I bet flying is great,” I said encouragingly. Something niggled at the back of my mind, though, like a fly that wouldn't leave me alone.“In fact,” I continued despite the growing distraction,” you'll probably be able to use pegasi magic too – wait.” I froze, finally having 'caught the fly'. Hooves. No, no, no... Hooves? My stomach fluttered as I surveyed the fresh hell. Sure enough, the area below his knees transitioned from normal human flesh to fur and hoof. Blue, fuzzy fur and hoof. I groaned, no longer shocked at the changes, just accepting them with fatalistic despair as I looked down at my own changing legs. I was starting to look like something the Four Horsemen wouldn't feel like complete nimrods riding in upon. “Of course we have hooves,” I muttered bitterly, stomping to the breakfast table and sitting down heavily. “Why wouldn't we have fucking hooves.” I glared down at myself for a moment, then pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut. I might not b able to magic them away – not yet, anyway – but I didn't have to keep looking at him. “Where's the nearest glue factory, I have a donation to make,” I muttered under my breath.

He snickered. “Seriously, how did you not notice those earlier?” he asked, shaking his head. “I was about to freak out, but then I saw the wings... Seriously, these things are so awesome...”

For my answer, I pointed at the immense spike protruding from my head. “I was kinda preoccupied with the magical skewer. That, and, well... Magic.” I brightened up a little, despite myself. Even with the hooves, it was hard to get over the whole 'cosmic power stuffed in my forehead' thing. I could do magic! Just the thought filled me with pride, made me strangely complete. An itch I'd never known I'd had was finally scratched. As much as I complained about the horn, I really couldn't fault the results; I was slowly starting to feel magic as if the horn itself were some sort of television aerial, tuned to the arcane. Just like my brother had said about his wings, my horn felt, well... natural. Not just using and sensing magic – the horn itself felt like it belonged there.

“Alright, fine, point taken,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes. He poured himself a bowl of oats – odd, he never touched that stuff before, I thought – and then froze as his eyes widened with terror.

I raised an eyebrow, bemused. “Bugs?” I asked, leaning in to look at the cereal and wondering if something had gotten into it.

He shook his head, gulping. “Something just occurred to me,” he said ominously. I frowned at that – wasn't there enough drama for one day? – but he he wouldn't be dissuaded. “Do you think that these changes are going to go, umm,” he blushed as he looked down significantly. “A-all the way?”

I looked at him, nonplussed. “All the way? Well, the changes haven't been slowing down at all – if anything, they've been speeding up. I mean, now we have hooves, and I swear this horn is longer-” I stopped as he kept gesturing down at his waist, and I gave a start as I realized what he was talking about. I cringed – that was not a topic two brothers should ever have to discuss. “Oh. OH. Ummm... M-maybe? I mean, if everything else is changing, I suppose we'll be more... equine.” I snickered nervously at that, more to break the tension than anything else, and imagined all of the 'male enhancement' emails that filled my junk-box regularly. I wondered what they'd have to say about an equine-sized member.

“Don't laugh!” he nearly shouted, close to panicking as he misinterpreted the meaning of my amusement. “What if – what if I become a girl!? This isn't funny!” he said, frantic.

I facepalmed. He was taking this in a very awkward direction, but given the past few days I supposed it really was a valid concern. “You've got nothing to worry about,” I finally managed to say, wishing I could talk about something besides my brother's junk but seeing no alternative. “Soarin was... was definitely a male. If you're changing into him, you're almost certainly going to stay a guy.”

His fear and unease evaporated in an instant, and he gave a relieved laugh as he leaned on the counter-top, weak in the knees. “Oh thank you Jesus, thank you...” he whispered fervently. I was about to admonish him for taking the Lord's name in vain, but thinking about it, I realized that it probably wasn't in vain – that was probably a genuine thanks to God. He recovered quickly, and looked around the kitchen as if with new eyes. “So,” he said cheerfully, a complete about-face from his earlier terror and worry, “you want some of this too?” He held up the box of oats.

I stared at him for a moment, nonplussed, then just shook my head at his capriciousness – from the pits of despair to the heights of joy in less than a minute. 'An academy record,' I thought, unable to stop myself, and winced at my own lame meme – that joke had died at least 2 years prior. “You have what you want, I'm making a burger,” I said, wanting to get away with him for a little while, his rapidly oscillating and changing moods getting on my nerves. I walked – well, clopped – over to the freezer and pulled out a frozen burger patty, and carried it out to the grill on a plate.

Our backyard had high fences and no hills nearby, so I didn't fear exposure while I cooked my lunch. I turned the propane on and reached for the pilot light, before reconsidering. I had just learned a pretty awesome 'burn shit up' spell... But no, that was pretty dangerous. I didn't want to burn down my house on accident, or worse, turn the propane tank into a deadly fireball. I sighed and reluctantly pressed the igniter, and soon had a merry blaze going. “One day,” I muttered as I set the patty on the flame-blackened bars, “One day, I won't need you, you infernal little button.” I closed the lid and let the grill do its work, already itching to see what else I could do as my breakfast cooked.

It wasn't long before I smelled the delicious aroma of seared meat. It became harder for me to wait patiently, no longer able to ignore the gnawing hunger in my stomach with food so close... And then I realized I had forgotten a spatula. I shook my head at my lack of planning, ready to dash back inside and search for one and risk burning the meat, when I realized I didn't need one. I chuckled gleefully to myself, glad for an excuse to practice some more magic – safe magic, even, as the worst case scenario was a meat frisbee whizzing across the yard. I looked down at the patty and frowned, concentrating. It took a bit of effort, but a moment later I had surrounded the chunk of meat in my wispy aura of magic and managed to 'nudge' it over onto its other side. “I do hope that doesn't ruin the flavor of the meat,” I said, but wasn't really worried – ponies on the show used magic on food all the time, and simple telekinesis didn't seem to hurt anything.

A few minutes later I walked – sorry, clopped, still getting used to that – back in with a perfectly cooked patty, criss-crosses of charred meat on both sides from the grill, humming contently at the simple pleasure. While I added condiments and cheese to my eagerly anticipated breakfast, my brother walked in with an emptied bowl of cereal and sniffed. Making a face, he eyed my meal with obvious distaste. “Dude, don't eat that,” he said, gagging. “It's gone bad. I hope you didn't ruin the grill...”

I frowned and sniffed it, confused. “It smells fine to me,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “It smells like a normal, cooked burger patty – and I'm pretty sure I'd smell it if it were rotten.” I took a tentative bite of the meat and chewed. Salty, greasy, beefy... There was nothing wrong with the burger. I cut off a small portion and put it on a fork. “It tastes fine to me, you try some,” I said, handing him the skewered chunk of meat.

He glared at the bit of charred meat dubiously, and gave it a tentative nibble. He immediately spat the offending morsel into the sink, eyes wide with disgust. “Euugh!” he groaned, mouth wide open as he held his tongue out, and tried to wipe the remaining flavor off his tongue with a handful of hastily grabbed paper towels. I stared through the whole process, bewildered as he grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and rinsed his mouth out several times before he was finished.

I just stared at him for several moments, bemused as he cringed. “Maybe a nice turkey burger instead?” I asked blithely, torn between amusement and alarm.

He glared at me, panic abated, and stared at my burger as if it had personally offended him and his entire family. “That... thing... is a culinary ABORTION.”

I stepped back at his vehemence, slightly offended. “Look, it may be a bit rare, but it's just a burger... It's fresh, too, we just got the patties last week and they went straight into the freezer...”

“I don't care HOW fresh they are, that was awful! It tastes the same as I remember, it smells the same... I don't know how, or why, but that... I can't eat that!” He stopped, as if just realizing something. “I... can't eat that. Why can't I eat that?” He clopped awkwardly to the fridge – his gait was becoming noticeably different, and I tried to ignore the fact that I would probably be following suit – and started tearing out all of the cooked meats. Lunch meat, leftover chicken, hot dogs – he broke off a piece of each one in turn, popped it into his mouth, and chewed it, and immediately turned back to the sink and spat it out. It would have been comical if it was happening to someone else, but I could only stare in horror as my brother tried every meat we had, and found he couldn't stomach it.

“I don't get it!” he whined, exhausted and despondent, head hanging over the sink in case he revisited his breakfast. “I've always loved meat! Remember how we used to go to those Mongolian grills and just order plates and plates of beef and marinated pork and chicken and... and...” He gave an unpleasant burp, but managed to keep everything down that time. “It was all-you-can-eat, and it was awesome! But now I just... I can't... Why can't I eat it now?!” He looked longingly at the pile of meat beside the fridge, whimpering.

I'd worked it out while he'd done his impromptu mass-taste-testing, and I wasn't looking forward to sharing my theory. I looked at him gravely and spoke, slowly, not wanting to frighten him any more than he already was. “Luke... You know we're probably turning into p-ponies,” I stammered, hardly believing my own words. “I think we're going to transform ALL the way, not just partway... and in your case, I think that means you can't eat, well, can't eat meat anymore... Ponies don't eat meat, you see. Well, most ponies, anyway – I don't think Sombra was normal in that respect, I'm pretty sure he was an omnivore if not outright carnivorous-”

“Oh, how convenient,” he broke in impatiently, staring daggers at me as if it was my fault. “YOU can still eat meat! But I have to eat... veggies... and fruits... I WANT PEOPLE FOOD, DAMMIT!”

I glowered, started to get annoyed – it wasn't my fault we were changing, and I had no patience to deal with such petulance. Besides, if he thought this was any easier for me, he was wrong. “Look, I didn't make you like this! If I had any control over this, do you think I'd want to be transforming into Pony Hitler?! When this is all said and done, you'll have the body of one of the most famous, strongest, fastest athletes in all of Equestria! And I'll be stuck looking like one of the most hated and feared tyrants!” I nearly continued my rant, but I'd said all I wanted. I settled for folding my arms over my chest and glowering, daring him to keep blaming me. The nerve of some people...

He kept glaring at me for a few moments, as if he was going to do just that... But then he closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. “I know,” he mumbled, looking down at his hooves. “And... I'm sorry. That, that wasn't a way for a Christian to behave. This is all just... Just fucked up! I mean, here we are, turning into cartoon ponies, and we have no one else to turn to, no leads...”

“Apology accepted,” I muttered gruffly. I would have dragged more of an apology out of him, but I remembered the phone call earlier and grinned. “Actually, we're not the only ones,” I said airly. “I called up Mary earlier, and, well, she's also... changing.”

His eyes popped open at that. “WHAT! Why didn't you say so before?!” he yelled, excitement and frustration warring for dominance.

“Hey! Horn, remember? Was kinda preoccupied,” I said defensively. Before he could interrupt with more questions, I plowed on. “I think she's turning into Princess Cadence. You know...” I paused awkwardly. “Sombra's enemy when he tried to take back the Crystal Empire, and Shining Armor's wife.” I pushed away my unease – we just looked like them, but we weren't them. I was still friends with her, and there was a sort of irony to it. “I guess it'll funny hanging out with her. Big scary evil unicorn and a pretty alicorn princess, getting along like friends!” I snorted – apparently God, or whoever did this, had a sense of humor.

But he wasn't paying any attention – he had already picked up his phone and dialed her number. “Hi, Caden- err, sorry, Mary? Yeah, this is Luke – what? No, yeah, it's real, he wasn't joking, I saw him levitate a wadded up newspaper...” I grumbled and sat down to my cooling burger, trying to ignore their banter as I bit into it. It really did taste good, though I had to wonder – why did Sombra eat meat? Though, he did have fangs... 'Maybe he ate ponies,' my traitorous brain supplied as an answer, and I shuddered at the mental image. 'Gee, thanks brain, now shut up so I can eat this without hurling,' I thought, and tried to put all thoughts of pony cannibalism out of my mind. It was a good burger, and I wasn't going to allow anything to change that or spoil it for me. It was warm, it was juicy, it smelled delicious... I took a bite-

“Uh huh. Right – hey, James!” he called out, snapping me out of my burgery contemplations.

“What?” I yelped, meat spilling back onto my plate as I tried to talk.

“The boss called – he wanted to know why you missed your shift.”

“Wait, what? I – FUCK!” I sprinted to my room, burger forgotten, and grabbed my phone. I waited for agonizing moments for it to turn on – why did I even turn it off earlier?! – and then tried to call my boss. I say 'tried' because a moment later I was overwhelmed with the text messages that had accumulated while it was off – mostly from Mary, it seemed, no doubt trying to find some answers. I tried to be patient as the phone beeped over and over again, one message after another demanding my attention, until finally no more seemed forthcoming. I hastily closed out all of the messages, saving them for later, and punched in my boss's number. “H-hello, sir?” I asked, gulping nervously.

“James? Where are you? Is everything alright?” he asked, his concern edged with annoyance. Uh oh... he was a patient man, but when he started showing annoyance, that was when one had to tread very, very carefully.

“Y-yeah... Well, no,” I said. “Look, something's come up, something really, really... personal. I can't explain it, please just trust me, I REALLY can't come in and I don't think I will be able to for a while.” I could never lie well on the spot.

“Are you sick?” he asked dubiously. “Is that why your voice sounds so strange?”

I paused. My voice? “Erm, yes, I'm sick,” I lied lamely, “and I'm going into the hospital, I don't know when I'll be out, it's very serious but time consuming and I'll probably be okay, b-but it's contagious-”

The pastor sighed on the other end of the line. “Look... If you can't tell me, fine. I probably don't want to know anyway,” he said dourly, making me grimace. “I can take you off the schedule for the next few weeks, but you need to work it out with your brother and Mary for the rest of the week to cover your shifts.”

“Ummm... about that,” I mumbled, hating to be the bearer of bad news. “See... They can't really work either. None of us can. We all, umm... have the same... issue.” I groaned and thumped my head against the wall, knowing how utterly trite my excuse sounded.

There was nothing on the line for a few moments, and I wondered if he'd hung up. “Really,” he deadpanned, finally breaking the awkward silence.

“Uhhh... Yes?” I bit my lip, not knowing what else to say. There was nothing else I COULD say – nothing he'd believe, at least. I knew what kind of position I was putting him in, but I couldn't do a damn thing about it...

“Look,” he sighed, and I could practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose, “I didn't want to get into your business – I know you're hiding something, and so long as it wasn't illegal and didn't hurt the shop I would let sleeping dogs lie.” I frowned at that a little – we had our political and religious differences, him being a liberal Christian and me being conservative Christian, and wondered that he could have that sort of attitude... But in that case it was to my advantage, so I didn't complain. “Unfortunately,” he continued relentlessly, “that's not the case anymore, and now I need answers. This shop could work without one of you, maybe even two of you... But there just aren't enough employees to make it work without all three of you here. So. Tell me what's going on, or I'll have no choice but to replace all three of you.” He was calm, he was reasonable, and he was polite. And that made lying to him impossible. Unfortunately, telling the truth over the phone would also be impossible, or at least telling the truth in a way he could accept.

“You won't believe me if I just told you,” I said, clenching my eyes shut as I bit the bullet. He was right, I thought; he deserved the truth. “Come over to our house – I can't go outside. None of us can, at least not in broad daylight. And, umm, I lied earlier – it's not contagious, at least not as far as we can tell.”

“Ummm, alright,” he said, thoroughly confused but trusting. “I have to finish the rest of this shift,” – I gave a guilty grimace at that – “but I can be there around 6:30.”

I thanked him wearily. “Just... please, please don't freak out,” I pleaded. “And, ummm... I know you're the one who usually tells me this, but... keep an open mind?”

There was a pause. “Alright,” he said, his voice giving away nothing, and I heard the dial-tone start. He had hung up.

'That could have gone better,' I thought sardonically, setting the phone down. He deserved to know the truth, no question about that. But the truth... How could he possibly handle something like this? We could barely handle it, and I got the awesome gift of magic out of the deal, while my brother was going to be able to fly if things kept going. But my boss would only be losing three employees, and I was going to have to dump all of this on him – all at once, even. The best I could hope for was a quiet freak-out, and the worst... I pushed away thoughts of the CDC and vivisection, going pale and weak in the knees.

I took a deep breath to calm myself and tried to break the problem down into smaller chunks. First off, I'd have to make sure he didn't scream. 'Well that's easy', I thought sarcastically, 'just knock him unconscious the moment he opens the door.' I couldn't do that, of course, but I couldn't think of a way for him to see me and not have a panic attack. I took a quick peek in the mirror and shuddered, confirming my fears. Besides the diabolical horn, fangs, and eyes, my face was starting to elongate and my eyes were noticeably larger than a human's should be. There was no way for him to look at me without some sort of preparation, and if I tried to prepare him over the phone he would probably just think I was lying again. No, I needed to make my own appearance less frightful, somehow. I had to make myself normal... Or at least normal enough that he didn't flee in terror at the sight of me.

I staggered by my brother's room, trying not to think about how awkward it was getting to walk normally, and saw that he was still talking to Cad- err, to Mary. I stopped and looked him over, a plan forming. He had blue fur down his arms and legs now, and his face was slightly bulged, and his wings idly flapped behind him... but for some strange reason, he looked utterly natural. Almost relaxed, even. More importantly, he could cover up most of his alterations, and even the ones he couldn't cover up were less frightful than mine. I nodded to myself – if I couldn't greet the pastor, maybe he could.

“Luke?” I asked, knocking on the door. He looked up, annoyed, his eyes flicking meaningfully at the phone and back towards me. I shrugged and smirked. “Alright,” I said airily, walking away, “I guess you don't wanna know when the pastor coming over...”

There was silence for a moment, followed by the rapid thumping of hooves. Before I could turn around, I felt something heavy slam into me and knock me onto the mercifully thick carpeting.

“Ow! Get off!” I grumbled, trying to pick myself up, but he just kept holding me down. I may have misjudge the intensity of his reaction.

“NO! What did you do?!” he demanded, panic edging his voice. Yes. Yes, I had definitely misjudged his reaction. My bad.

“Look, I tried to lie, but come on – ALL THREE OF US are going to be unable to work for at least several weeks, and he saw right through me when I tried to lie about being sick.” I tried to squirm free, but he had me pinned. “He deserves to know why!”

He just ignored me. “Wasn't your secret to tell... You shouldn't have told him about her,” he said protectively.

'Wait... about her? Is that what this is about?' I thought, and things started to click. Of course. Him and Mary were never really a 'thing', but he had feelings for her. And now, nothing I could say would justify, in his mind, what I had done by revealing her secret.

I sighed and stopped struggling, realizing I had other tools at my disposal. “It was the only way,” I said defensively, and then smiled. “By the way,” I grinned slyly and turned my head to look at him, “how strong do you think my telekinesis is?” While he still outraged and focused on keeping me pinned, I concentrated on him, trying to envelope him with my magic. It wasn't until too late that he realized what was going on, and he could only give a yelp of surprise as I pushed him up and away.

I realized my mistake a moment later; I had the burgeoning power of an adult unicorn with none of the finesse or power regulation. I pushed him much to hard, as I had with the shot glass earlier that morning, and he flew through the air and crashed into the wall with a sickening crack. I froze, horrified at what I'd done. 'Oh God please let him be okay oh please oh please God-' I prayed fervently as I stumbled to my feet and ran to him. “LUKE!” I shouted, resisting the urge to shake him awake, “Are you okay? Come on, you're fine, please say something...” I started hyperventilating as panic took over, my vision shrinking to a dot as he didn't answer, why didn't he answer, please God PLEASE MAKE HIM ANSWER-

His groan snapped me out of my panic attack and I finally breathed, spots dancing before my eyes. “Fuck, are you okay?” I managed to croak, not daring to touch him in case he had a spinal injury.

He coughed (thankfully there was no blood) and gave another groan. “Ow... What... what the fuck was that for,” he asked, and amazingly he started climbing to his feet. He got up easily and stretched as if he had done nothing more serious than slip and land on his ass.

“You're alright?” I asked, staring in amazement. “How can you be alright!? I saw you...” I gulped, unable to continue, and glanced at the cracked sheet-rock wall and the almost cartoony imprint his body had left in it. 'No one could have got up from that,' I considered carefully, 'the human body can't take...'

I stopped that thought, realizing that I couldn't think of him as physically human anymore. He looked more pegasus than human by that point. I remembered all the times in the show that a pegasus had crashed, and how easily they seemed to shrug it off. It made sense that they'd be built for crashes and falls associated with flight – and if my brother was turning into one, he would be optimized for it, too. I closed my eyes and thanked the Lord for my luck; if he hadn't been a pegasus, or if he hadn't been as far along in the transformation as he was... I shuddered at the thought.

But he was fine. He even got to his feet without much trouble, and I edged away – surely he would be livid. I would be, in his shoes.

“I-I'm sorry,” I mumbled, trying to stave off the flurry of anger and harsh words he would surely release, “I just wanted to see what I could do with my horn, I didn't think-”

“Dude, I'm fine,” he cut me off, annoyed. “Yeah, that sucked, but it's nothing worse than when I fall at the gym. Shoot, it doesn't even feel that bad, I think I was just a bit shocked...” He trailed off as he looked at the wall where he hit, eyes going wide as dinner plates. “...Holy shit. How hard did I hit that thing?!”

He turned to me, more than a little confused, and I gladly shared my theory with him about pegasi and falls – anything to get the conversation away from the fact that I had just thrown him across the room with enough force to crack a wall. He nodded numbly, and I wondered if he was taking in a word I said, but kept talking anyway. It helped calm my own nerves at what I had nearly done.

“So, umm, yeah,” I finished lamely. “You can fall really far now, probably. But,” I hastily amended, “let's not test that.”

He only nodded again... and fell forward onto his hands. I gave a start, worried I really had hurt him, but before I could say anything he started beating his wings – now a good deal larger than I remembered. The feathers had apparently filled out more while I was on the phone with the pastor, and didn't look completely ridiculous. “Wh-what are you doing?” I asked nervously. Surely he couldn't fly in here, it was totally irresponsible and rash! I looked around nervously at the expensive, easily broken TV, as well as all the family photos and other sentimental knick-knacks on the end tables. “You can't fly in here, you'll break something!”

He just grinned and raised an eyebrow at me. “Pot, meet kettle,” was all he said, before lifting his wings up high and bringing them down, hard and fast, nearly knocking me backwards with the gusts coming from them. 'So yeah, apparently they do supplement their wings with air-magic,' I thought distractedly, before yelping with surprise as the expensive TV started to tip over. I focused and tried to steady it with telekinesis, and only just managed to tilt it back up in time. Unfortunately I couldn't save anything else – almost all of the pictures had fallen by then, some even breaking with sharp cracks and tinkles. This finally got his attention, and he stopped flapping to look around at the devastation.

“Oh crap! I... Dammit!” he said, looking around in panic at the devastation he'd wrought.

I considered berating him for his recklessness, but one look at the massive dent and crack in the wall made me cringe. All in all, I probably did more property damage than him... So I shook my head and trotted as quickly as I could to the cleaning cabinet. “Look, don't worry, we can fix all of this,” I said, putting on a falsely cheery voice. “See, we have four and a half hours, I'm sure we can sweep all of this up and maybe put a picture over-”

*beep beep beep!*

I stopped, feeling the chill of foreboding. Surely not. It couldn't be the boss, it was far too early... I picked up the phone and cursed, seeing the pastor's name by the 'new text message' alert. 'Well, maybe he was just checking up on us,' I thought hopefully making sure we were alright. He couldn't be there already... I opened the text.

'Shop dead quiet,' it read. 'forgot an appointment. Closing early – will come in at 2 instead of 6:30.'

I shifted my eyes to the corner of the screen, where the time was displayed, already hearing footsteps coming up the driveway. It was 2:01. Of course it was.

“Luke,” I hissed in a harsh whisper. “I think we might be f-”

*DING-DONG*

Author's Note:

Sorry that this took a few days to get out, but this was twice as long as the other chapters.

Edit: Again, made James more of a jerk, and worked on their interactions in general.

Comments

[Penjacker]

Coolio. I noticed a few mistakes here and there:

nimrods riding in upon

when the pastor coming over

please God' I prayed

Apart from that, it's all still looking good. :)

[Skydancer]

And a perfect cliff-hanger spot to end on. This should be interesting.

[Buckshot2825]

even the horn felt like it belonged there.

“Alright, fine, point taken,”

Well i'm guessing this is only the tip of it. The jokes are just poking fun at unicorns and frankly i think you haven't pointed out enough yet

[swyrl]

“Oh, how convenient,” he broke in impatiently, staring daggers at me as if it was my fault. “YOU can still eat meat! But I have to eat... veggies... and fruits... I WANT PEOPLE FOOD, DAMMIT!”

He he he! Lucky for me, I'm already vegetarian. :D

It's a shame there was no r63 in this story, that's always a great source for some comedy and conflict in 5score stories.
Then again, with how badly they're already freaking out, they probably wouldn't take it too well.