Stay

by Wintergreen Diaries

End of the Line

Pale golden light of the late afternoon sun filtered through the weathered slats of the hospital shutters, adding a comforting warmth to offset the rather rudimentary bedding of the old cot Merry woke to find himself lying upon. Groaning quietly as his many aches were roused, he curled his tail up to his chest and nestled deeper into the covers, considerably more miserable than he had been in quite some time, though it wasn’t only on account of his regrettable condition. Beneath the faint burn of his excoriated hide and the throb of his strained muscles was the fear that everything he had done the previous night had been for naught. He hadn’t made it to where he had been urged to go, and he was certain that he had missed his chance. It wasn’t until he found himself clinging to his tail that he realized something else was missing.

“The package!” he exclaimed, lurching forward and immediately regretting it. Coughing weakly and shuddering as his body summarily labeled him the biggest dunce in the history of blockheads, he forced himself to wait until the urge to toss the worst kinds of cookies had passed before cracking open his eyes. They didn’t like the light, but he couldn’t help but marvel as he fixed his attention the nearby nightstand that was surrounded with all manner of gifts. A basket lay on the floor, chock full of muffins, cookies, and an assortment of dried fruits, as far as his nose could tell. A snazzily wrapped box of cupcakes sat nearby with a small sack of candy perched on top, and the nightstand itself was littered with get well cards. And, much to his relief, the package that he had chased into the storm had not been lost to him, but sat a within hoof’s reach at the foot of the bed.

“Thank goodness,” he whispered, gathering the parcel into his hooves. “At least I have something to show for all of this…” Realizing that he wasn’t entirely sure what a “this” was and that he hadn’t actually had the chance to find out, he pulled away and looked over the package, still quite filthy from the storm though surprisingly still well wrapped. “From: Rarity. Carousel Boutique, Fairway Lane, Ponyville. Well, that explains the Rarity smell!” Chuckling to himself, his eyes roamed down to the recipient. “Pinkie Pie? Never heard of a Pinkie Pie, and I know most everypony in this town…” Pausing for a moment, he lowered his snout and took a tentative whiff of the package, only to pull away with a look of disbelief.

“This package… it’s coated in mystery smell!” For the last week, Merry had spent many an hour of his spare time scouring the town to try and identify a fragrance that was unfamiliar to him. Learning and identifying various aromas was something of an obsession for the pony, and one of the many more canine-like characteristics that he displayed on a common basis besides profuse tail wagging. He knew everypony in town by virtue of their scent alone, could identify where somepony had traveled by the dirt on their hooves, and could even list what ingredients were in a dish within moments of being served. His olfactory sense had always been above par, and he had honed it to a science over the years, but the sweet, comforting spice that wafted faintly from the package in his hooves had eluded him for a while.

“This is great!” he thought excitedly, taking in another draft and getting a few loose grains of sand up the snout. “This could- cou…” “Wachoo!” Moaning pitifully as the convulsion again reminded him that he had, in fact, dove into a sandstorm, he adopted a pout and looked down at the sandy spray he had left on the sheets. “Thaaat’s gross. Ick.” Sniffling, he turned his attention back to the parcel. “This could lead me straight to the mystery smell. That would be awesome! But… that couldn’t be worth leading me into a sandstorm, could it?” It was in the stillness of his thoughts that he felt the aggravating throb of his cutie mark.

“You can’t be serious…” he reasoned, fixing his flank with a scowl and gritting his teeth. “How could what I’ve been through still not be enough for you?” he demanded, his chest welling with frustration and bitterness. “Look at those cards! Every single one of those ponies was probably worried sick! And my sister-” He faltered, his voice dropping to a murmur. “I’ll bet she’s super worried…” Sure enough, at the top of the stack of mail was a note with Chai’s distinctive script, and he laid the parcel aside as he opened the letter.

“Merry,

I’m sorry that I can’t be there when you wake. That storm was a bad one, and it destroyed our tea cart and almost all of the garden. I wish that I could be there, but there’s too much work for me to do, and I can’t do it myself. I don’t know what possessed you to get caught out in a sandstorm, and I’m not sure that I want to know. What matters most is that you’re safe. Please, come home soon, little brother. I miss you already… even if you are a butt.

Love, Chai”

“Sis, I… I’m sorry,” he murmured, hanging his head in shame. He knew all too well that the next few months would be the hardest they had faced in a while. Their finances were unstable to begin with, and the cost of cart repairs, the delay for growing new herbs, and now a hospital bill, just didn’t add up. Teasing didn’t often phase him, but at that moment, he really did feel like the world’s biggest butt.

“No more,” Merry told himself, hardening his gaze. “No more of this. I’ve been running on a fool's errand. I’ve left my sister alone when she needs someone by her side the most. This has to stop. You’ve asked too much.” His mark throbbed as he pulled back the sheets and gingerly lowered himself to the floor, finding very quickly that he couldn’t support any kind of weight on his heavily bandaged hind ankle.

“Be quiet,” he muttered, hanging his head as his mark gave another gentle pulse. “You’ve caused enough trouble already. I’m taking whatever this thing is back to the post office where it belongs.” Snatching up the package, he tossed it onto his back and took a few hobbling steps before it slipped onto the floor with a dull thud. Merry Mint wasn’t a pony prone to bouts of anger, but he had had just about enough trouble from the thing. Grasping the bindings in his jaws and muttering around the twine, he threw open the door and ambled out to the desk.

“Merry?” the nurse at the desk said, sounding confused. “What are you doing out of bed? The doctor had wanted to keep you in bed for another day to rest.”

“No,” he said flatly, dropping the package loudly to the floor. Merry saw the mare give a start both from the noise and his tone, prompting him to take a few moments to calm himself. He knew it wasn’t her fault that his cutie mark was giving him grief, and she had sounded genuinely concerned. “As much as I would love to take the time to rest, I can’t reeeally justify staying,” he explained, donning a rueful smile. “The sandstorm wrecked a ton of my sister’s stuff, and she needs my help back home. Right after I get rid of this thing,” he added with a mutter, sticking his tongue out at the parcel.

“Oh, I see,” she replied, relaxing considerably. “I guess it can’t be helped then. I’ll let the doctor know, and have your gifts sent to your house.”

“Thank you~!” He stooped down with a grunt and retrieved the package before making his way towards the door, eager to be on his way.

“Whatever is in that parcel must be really important to you.” Merry froze as the mare’s voice sounded behind him. For reasons that he couldn’t understand himself, the words rocked him, and he craned his neck around to stare at the mare as she smiled back. “You were holding onto it when they found you, and you kept it tight all the way to the hospital. Even when you were out cold, the doctor still had to pry it from your hooves. A package isn’t safe until it’s delivered, Merry. Keep it safe.”

Turning without a word, the thoroughly conflicted stallion stepped out into the late afternoon sun with an incredible weight hanging over his shoulders. He did his best to return the cheerful greetings of the townsfolk as they expressed their relief that he was safe and congratulated his bravado for facing the storm and living to tell the tale, but their praise only made his ears droop lower. As of that moment, he had accomplished nothing but spreading worry where he relished in spreading cheer, and it was with a heavy head that he slogged to a stop in front of the post office.

“What do I do?” he wondered, torn between his head and his heart. That package wasn’t his, he had been through more than enough to keep it safe, even the slightest of movements seemed to hurt, and his sister was no doubt anxiously awaiting his return. There was no legitimate, logical reason for him to do anything other than walk through the doors before him and give the package back to the postmaster. In his heart, however, the yearning that had driven him into the heart of the storm still quietly pleaded for him to keep walking, to follow the path out of town and to a destination that he didn’t even know. He remembered the words of his sister and lifted a hoof, only to cringe as a tingling ripple emanated from his cutie mark, bringing to mind the nurse’s parting commission. Stubbornly stamping his hoof down, he shuddered as another pulse washed over him, followed by another, and another

“Why…” The package dropped to the ground in plume of dust. “Why can’t I just go home? I’m tired of not knowing why this is happening…” No answer came as he stood rooted in place, fighting back tears of frustration, only the ever-present whisper of his cutie mark telling him to hold out and carry on just a little longer. He knew that he had the capacity to ignore it, that if he truly wanted it to stop, then he could bend it to his will and make it disappear, but the thought of doing so made his stomach churn. He had done that only once, and had promised himself that he would never do it again.

---

The last of the grime from another hard day in the rock fields was stripped away by the cleansing flow of the shower. Pinkie had warmed the water to the highest temperature she could stand in an attempt to ward away the shivers while her mind wandered back to the search the previous night. She had been relieved when her sister’s relayed the news that the lost pony had been found, but in its wake she found herself with even more questions than the ones that she was already studiously trying to avoid. Her denial wasn’t made any easier by the fact that her sister’s had actually thanked her for sharing what was on her mind at the saloon, and only added to her confusion as lathered shampoo into her mane and began to scrub.

“I thought that coming here would make me feel safe,” she recalled, working the suds into her tail. “I mean, it’s not like I feel like I’m about to get eaten or anything, but… I don’t understand why it’s so hard to talk to my family.” Her thoughts were delayed for a moment as she rinsed her mane and began applying some of her sisters’ conditioner, noting how long her mane was when it was flat. “It’s not like they’ll be upset with me… if anything, they’ll be upset with my friends. I don’t want that, or… do I? I just don’t know anymore…” Another shiver raced up her back, starting at the tip of her dock all the way to her ears and through her legs, making her lament her family’s lack of a tub, and the lack of an alligator in the tub as well. Running away wasn’t working as well as she would have hoped.

“If I wasn’t so angry with all of them, I’d probably go back to Ponyville tonight,” Pinkie mused, giving her hair one last rinse before shutting off the flow and stepping out into a hazy sea of steam. “Actually, don’t think angry is quite the right word. Upset? No, not quite that either. Hurt? But it’s more than that…” She stopped drying her mane and heaved a sigh, watching the steam swirl around. “Twilight would know a good word…”

Knowing that her sisters were patiently waiting for their turn, Pinkie finished toweling off and went straight to her room and curled up on her bed, letting the afternoon light sifting through windows warm her back. She had had many a staring contest with the wall in recent days, but fortunately for the wall, she wasn’t feeling much like competition. Though her limbs were tired and she had put forth more effort than Big Mac in a day at the orchard, Pinkie couldn’t seem to find any sort of rest as her thoughts continued to parade around her mind. She stopped paying attention fairly quickly, choosing instead to simply let them tire themselves out running in circles while she watched from a distance, detached and uninvolved. It made it easier to stave off the pain that inevitably arose when she tried to understand what her heart was doing. She had almost manage to doze off when a knock on her door stirred her back to wakefulness.

“Y-yes?” she called out sitting upright.

“May I come in?”

“Of course you can, silly. It’s your house,” she said with a feeble giggle as her father entered the room. “What’s up?”

“Well, I was hoping you could tell me,” he chuckled, taking a seat beside her on the bed.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Pinkie replied, watching him expectantly. She was somewhat perplexed by his comment. He didn’t look angry, and she hadn’t done anything especially strange that afternoon. In fact, since she had come back from her fruitless search the night before, she had been nothing if not obedient, and hadn’t spoken much to anypony that day. As he began to talk, she realized that was exactly the problem.

“Pinkie, I know you’re a grown mare now,” Igneous began, his gruff voice coming out gentler than most knew it could. “It isn’t my place to meddle where my nose don’t belong, and you’re entitled to your privacy. However,” he continued in an even softer tone, “you wouldn’t be here if something hadn’t happened.” She dropped her gaze, fidgeting with her hooves. “We love you dearly, Pinkamena, and we’re all happy that you’ve come home, but you aren’t yourself.”

“You noticed, huh?” she said, dangling her hooves over the side of the bed.

“‘Mena, even a total stranger could see that you aren’t meant to frown,” Igneous attested, shaking his head. “The rest of us all have rocks on our flank, but you? Balloons. Bright, festive balloons that make ponies smile. This sad, quiet pony? That isn’t you, Pinkamena…”

“But it is,” she protested quietly. “Don’t you remember when I was little? I was always sad.”

“Not always…” He grimaced, mentally kicking himself as she dropped her gaze to the floor, her legs swinging to a stop. “Way to go, Igneous. You come in here to try and help her out, and instead you make her remember the thing that tore her heart out. I knew I was bad at talkin’ but this is just-”

“Dad, stop,” she whispered, placing a hoof on his shoulder. “You’re right. I… I wasn’t always sad.” She didn’t even have time to let off the first tear before she found herself nestled within the safety of her father’s powerful embrace, and for the next few minutes she let them spill out onto his coat. For reasons that she couldn’t begin to explain, her father’s hugs had always found a way to calm her down as a filly. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t the touchy feely type and they weren’t as frequent as she would have hoped, but she was thankful nonetheless. And, even though they weren’t talking, she felt as though her fragmented thoughts were slowly piecing themselves together as she dried her eyes.

“...I’m sorry.”

“Now, what’re you apologizin’ for?” he asked, looking down at his daughter as she sniffled.

“For being all mopey and spazzy,” she conceded, dropping her gaze.

“You haven’t done any wrong by us, Pinkamena,” he assured her, gently nudging her chin so he could look her in the eyes. “You’re precious to us, and there ain’t no amount of moping that’ll change that.” It was brief, but it was definitely a smile that he saw rise to her muzzle. “You know that you can talk to me about anything, right?” She didn’t respond at first, appearing to be deep in thought.

“...Anything?” she said after a time.

“Anything at all, ‘Mena,” he confirmed, giving her a squeeze. “I’m not always the best with words, and Celestia knows that I’ve been wrong a time or two, but there’s nothin’ I wouldn’t do to help any of my daughters, and that means you.”

“This wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought it would be,” she thought to herself, falling quiet again. There was still a lot of anxiety at the thought of just letting everything out at once, but she knew that something had to give. If she continued the way she was going, she was only going to continue dragging everypony down, regardless of what they said, and it was with that in mind that she steeled herself and decided to test the waters. “Have you… ever been scared to talk to somepony?”

“Geez, Pinkamena, I was worried about comin’ up here,” he explained with an encouraging chuckle.

“I’m not that scary, am I? I mean, I know I can be a little loopy, but…”

“It ain’t about you, Pinkamena, it’s about myself,” he said, shaking his head. “There are plenty of times when I’ve kept silent, and plenty that I’ve said more than I needed to. Our words don’t always come out right, and that can make you right afraid to say anything at all. But you know what I’ve learned?” Pinkie shook her head. “The friends that were important t’ me were the ones that I gave a piece of my mind, and the ones that were worth havin’ were the ones that stuck around.” He looked towards the window and sighed. “I’ve fallen off with plenty of ponies that I thought were my friends, but the ones that stuck around are still my friends to this day.”

“Daddy has friends?” The thought had honestly never occurred to her before. “B-but I never see you with anyone, and you never go on long trips, or… or...”

“Just because we live miles apart doesn’t mean that we aren’t friends,” Igneous laughed, grinning down at Pinkie. “A friend isn’t just somepony that you can have a good time with, Pinkamena. Life has a habit of throwin’ rocks in the gears, and sometimes, stayin’ close just isn’t an option. A true friend isn’t just entertainment, they’re ponies that you know would be there for you in the blink of an eye if you asked. They ain’t perfect, nopony is, but they can carry you through the rough waters if you let them. And,” he added with a teasing hint in his voice as Cloudy poked her head in, “sometimes you find a friend that refuses to leave.”

“As I recall it, it was you that couldn’t leave,” she countered, indulging a quiet laugh as she entered. “Friendships aren’t always easy, as I’m sure you know, but they are worth it. Also, a hard day of work is worthy of a fitting meal. Supper is waiting when you two are ready.”

“Thank you, dear, we’ll be along shortly.” Igneous looked fondly upon his mare as she left before turning back to his daughter. “Was there anything else that you wanted to ask?”

“W-well…”

“Ask away, Mena, I can tell there’s somethin’ on your mind,” he pressed, noticing his daughter’s hesitation.

“...What happens if you’re the one that hasn’t been a true friend?” There was a brief silence as Igneous mulled over the heavy question. He would have liked to have been able to give a gentle answer, but there just wasn’t any easy way to undo one’s wrong, and while he didn’t know much about Pinkie’s friends other than what he had read in her letters, he did know that some ponies weren’t as forgiving as others.

“If… if you’re the one that messed up, then it’s up to you to make things right,” he said firmly. “Pointing your hoof at others’ mistakes doesn’t excuse you of your own, and your conscience won’t be right as long as you’re carrying on, knowing that there’s somepony you’ve wronged, even if they’ve wronged you just as much. It may hurt, and they may not forgive, but if you can’t swallow your pride and apologize, then you’re sayin’ that they aren’t worth the effort. But if there’s one thing that I know about you,” he concluded with a smile, “it’s that there’s nothing more important to you than your friends and family.”

If there were any way Pinkie could have brought herself to believe her father’s encouraging words, she would have. It was true that she had crafted her life around the presence of her close friends, and for a very long time that had filled her heart with the laughter that she delighted in sharing, but somewhere along the way, something inside had shifted. She hadn’t the strength to stifle her whimper as she began to understand the reason behind her divided emotional state. The clarity that she had longed for came without warning, and her head bowed as she acknowledged the truth that she hadn’t known that she knew, and the one that she hadn’t the strength to face: her friends weren’t the problem. It was her.

It had been her from the start.

---

Merry couldn’t remember a single time that he had ever felt so monumentally crummy. While being bludgeoned by the sandstorm had certainly been no small ordeal, at least he had felt some manner of confidence in his reason for barreling headlong into an uncomfortable situation. Now, as he sullenly trudged along what he couldn’t rightly discern between road and not-road, he got to add guilt to the constant throb of his abused muscles and the increasingly sharp pain on his hind leg any time he put any weight on it. His heart told him that he had made the right choice to continue on at the behest of his cutie mark’s incessant hounding, but the rest of his body was dog tired, and worse was the knowledge that he had no guarantee that any of his suffering would be worth it. What he did have, however, was the promise that he had made as a child that he would never again ignore the call of his cutie mark, and his commitment to honoring that vow was what had led him to once again pick up the package and wander the countryside.

That wasn’t to say that there wasn’t vast reluctance on his part. Being bound by the same shackles as every other mortal, Merry completely aware that he was likely delaying his recovery by a day or two by exerting himself so much. What confounded him, however, was the fact that he didn’t seem to mind. The moment that he had turned away from the post office and began his trek, his anxiety seemed to melt away, and the violent searing of his cutie mark’s minty burn calmed, becoming an almost soothing sensation that eased the pain in his battered side. He had never been one to stay down for long, and he actually had caught himself humming a time or two, but the by the time that he caught sight of the farmhouse that had somehow sprung up in the middle of a desolate field of rocks, he was in agony. Wincing as he dragged himself up the porch steps, he leaned against a support beam to catch his breath.

“I hope my cutie mark has accounted for the trip back,” he thought between haggard breaths. He doubted that he would even be able to make it back, but then again, he wouldn’t have thought he could have survived a sandstorm, either. Lifting his head, he took a moment to look around at his surroundings. Clearly inspired by sand, the entire house was comprised of the colors brown and tan. The silo and windmill that powered the well were equally as drab, and Merry couldn’t help but feel out of place with his brightly colored pastel mane contrasted against everything nearby. It was as if he had wandered into some forsaken edge of Equestria where all of the fun had been magicked away, and he found himself adding nervousness to his already impressive repertoire of reasons to feel like calling it a day, and sacking out there on whoever’s porch he had wandered onto.

“This doesn’t reeeally seem like anyplace I’d want to go… Butt, are you sure this is the right place?” His butt said yes. With a weary sigh, he lifted his hoof and gave the door a few good knocks, taking a few steps back as he heard the telltale scrape of chair legs dragging across the floor, followed by the steady whump of approaching hooves. Merry swallowed hard as a rather unfriendly looking older stallion opened the door and fixed him with a glare, wishing for all the world that he could somehow be granted temporary invisibility and possibly a twenty percent speed boost to hobble quickly away.

“What do you want?” the stallion asked, sounding perturbed.

“W-Well, you see, um…” Merry stammered, somewhat taken off guard. “What am I supposed to tell him? I’m not sure myself why I’m even here, and he doesn’t really look like he’d be interested in having my mark…” The stallion standing in the doorway began to scowl. His thick, scruffy gray sideburns did quite a lot to add to his already intimidating posture, and Merry found himself struggling to manage a coherent sentence.

“We’re having supper and this isn’t really a good time. State your business, and be on your way.” Merry knew that he needed to respond, and quickly at that. Glancing down at the package in his hooves, he glanced at the name and took a breath to steady himself.

“This, um… this package belongs to somepony named ‘Pinkie?’” he explained, faltering as the stallion in the doorway managed to somehow refine his scowl to be even more piercing. “Is… does s-she live here?”

“...Give it to me,” Igneous growled, holding his hoof out.

“B-But…” he murmured, glancing down at the parcel. “I’ve been through so much to keep this safe, it just doesn’t seem right to hoof it over. He doesn’t look like he would listen to anything I had to say, though…” Merry read the name on the label once more, summoning his courage as he remembered what the receptionist at the hospital had said that afternoon. “‘A package isn’t safe until it’s delivered,’ huh? Looks like it gets to stay with me for just a liiittle bit longer.”

“Well?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t give this package to anyone but Pinkie,” Merry explained, holding the delivery to his chest. “I’ve… been through a lot to make sure this package finds it’s way into that pony’s hooves, and I can’t give up now. I’ll come back later, okay? I’m sorry to have interrupted your meal. Have a… have a nice night…” He had thought that following his cutie mark all the way into the rocky fields would be the hardest thing he had done that night, but that couldn’t compare to being so close and having to walk away. Merry couldn’t even say why he had said that he would leave, especially when he knew that where he needed to be was just beyond that door. His head sank to match his drooping ears as he went to take his first step, only to stumble and nearly fall as he realized that his muscles had been idle too long, and had started to tighten. Disappointed and aching, he couldn’t see the turnaround of the stallion’s expression behind him as he watched Merry struggle.

“Wait, you’re…” Confused as to why he had heard continued conversation rather than the slamming of the door, Merry turned as the stallion in the doorway stepped out with a mixture of surprise and bewilderment on his face. “Aren’t you the colt that got caught in the sandstorm?”

“Yeeep, that’s me,” he said with a weak chuckle.

“By Celestia, son, why the hay aren’t you resting?” Igneous asked, worriedly moving in and looking over Merry’s battered form. “And what in Equestria were you thinking, getting caught in a sandstorm like that?” Merry couldn’t tell if the pony beside him sounded more worried or upset, but either way he took heart that he wasn’t being driven away. “The ponies from Dodge were searchin’ all the way out here for you, and my girls were, too! Don’t you know that you made everypony worry?”

“I do,” Merry said solemnly, bowing his head. “I know that it was a silly thing to do, but I… I knew I had to protect this package. If I hadn’t have found it before the storm hit, then it would have been lost forever.”

“So, that means…” Igneous was quickly beginning to view the colt in a different light. The colt flinched a little as he moved but met his gaze as he set his hoof on the colt’s shoulders and looked into his eyes. “Do you mean to tell me that you jumped headlong into a sandstorm, got back up, wandered all the way to my house just to pass out, and then came back again after just getting out of the hospital, all because… because you were protecting something that belongs to my daughter?”

“...Yes, sir,” he answered unsteadily. “I guess I did.” The stallion straightened up but continued to stare at Merry with disquieting intensity. Though he couldn’t tell, the fact was that Igneous was having marveling at the lengths he had gone to do something kind for his daughter, and a softness that Merry hadn’t imagined the older stallion to be capable found its way into his gruff voice.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Merry Mint, sir,” he answered respectfully.

“Alright, then, Merry, listen closely,” Igneous began, a smile beginning to overtake his gruff exterior. “My daughters are precious to me, and I’m not too keen on letting some stallion I hardly know into my home. However, you were willing to brave a sandstorm, to walk through the wind and the sand, and get back up just to see my Pinkamena. That shows a character that I don’t often see in ponies anymore, and the loyalty that the townsfolk showed towards you proves that it ain’t just for show..” He stepped aside and motioned with a hoof towards the house. “Come on in, son. You’re more than welcome here.”

“Really?” he asked hopefully as his tail began to wag.

“You can even join us for supper if you’d like. Just…” He fell quiet for a moment and looked towards the stairs. “Be sensitive. Pinkamena hasn’t been feeling well lately, and she’s… really having a hard time right now.”

“I’ll be careful, Mr…”

“Igneous,” he said with a nod, watching Merry take a few hobbling steps forward. “Do you need some help?”

“I appreciate the offer, sir, I do, but this is something that I’d like to do myself,” he explained with a sheepish grin. “I’ve come this far, and it just feels right to make it through this last stretch on my own.”

“I can respect that,” Igneous said with a nod. “Come along, then. I’ll take you to see her.” Stifling a groan as he walked behind Igneous, Merry took the package by the twine and followed him inside. Glancing across the living room and into the dining room, he saw that dinner had been temporarily set aside to make time to stare at him. Two mares that looked around his age sat whispering in hushed tones while an older mare chided them quietly. Quietly bemoaning his poor luck as he neared the based of the stairs, he took a deep breath and took them slowly, one set at a time. Not being able to support any weight on his dominant hind leg made the ascent slow and excruciating, but he could see the end in sight as he neared the top: a door of muted pink. It was the only moderately colorful thing that Merry had seen since leaving Dodge, and he could sense that he had finally made it to where he needed to be.

“Pinkie’s in there?” Merry asked, his tail once again beginning to swish.

“That’s right,” Igneous confirmed. “Knock first, be respectful, and keep your hooves where I can see them.”

“Thaaat shouldn’t be a problem, sir,” he chuckled, flushing a little with embarrassment. “I wouldn’t rough house with somepony I’ve just met.”

“Good colt. Go on now,” Igneous said, motioning towards the door, “you’ve come a long way.” With a contrite nod, Merry took a step forward and gave the door a few gentle taps. Hearing no response, he prepared himself to wait patiently before trying again, but then his ears caught hint of something faint, coming from within. His countenance fell as he pressed an ear to the door and listened to the quiet, muffled sound of somepony crying on the other side.

“So, this is why you brought me here…” he thought as he pulled away. Merry had wondered if he would be able to say whether or not he would be able to say that the ordeal he had endured would be worth it in the end, but he had been asking a pointless question; there was nothing more worthwhile than helping somepony who needed a reason to smile again. Laying aside his fatigue and discomfort, Merry perked his ears and pumped a little extra life into his tail as he depressed the door handle and stepped inside, determined not to leave until he had coaxed a little laughter from the pony within.

Comments

[SageBrony07]

So Minty is going to meet Pinkie. I wonder will it be love at first sight, or more of a less than enthusiastic approach. I can't wait to read it. Thanks for the updates.

[Lucky424]

Merry completely

Merry was completely

Well. They finally meet.

Equestria is doomed.

[djthomp]

What a great scene between Pinkie and her father.

The clarity that she had longed for came without warning, and her head bowed as she acknowledged the truth that she hadn’t known that she knew, and the one that she hadn’t the strength to face: her friends weren’t the problem. It was her.
It had been her from the start.

Revelation! Now, the question is what to do about it. Hopefully Merry can help.

Merry and Igneous was also a pretty great scene.

“Thaaat shouldn’t be a problem, sir,” he chuckled, flushing a little with embarrassment. “I wouldn’t rough house with somepony I’ve just met.”

Hmmnn...