Bedrock

by RazedRainbow

V

V

There is no sunlight when I wake. I rub my ear against the arm of the sofa. I can still hear her. For a moment, I think I’m still in a dream, but the mildew is all Haystack’s. I bury my ear further into the felt, move my head a little. It tickles enough to wake me up. Soon silence is my only companion once more.

I sit up and check the streets. Street lamps and moonlight bathe the stones. Not even a hint of the sun. It might still be closer to dusk than dawn. Plenty of hours left to sleep. Plenty of hours left to avoid it, too. I tap on the table lamp and the den is bathed in a tanzanite’s glow.

Getting into the harness is second nature. I slide off the couch and it is right where it always is. The tanzanite is dim, but enough to get situated—no hoof on carpet, each leg on its own side. I take the straps in my mouth and pull. Tight, but not too tight. I won’t be strapped in long. A mare on a mission. The wheels are silent on the carpet. Maybe too silent. I stare at the door. If I blink, I will hear her.

I hear her anyway.

I open the door by the centimeter. The squeaks are louder that way. They drown the echoes out long enough to get to the workout bench. Unhook, push up one half, drag up the other, lay flat. I hear a familiar whir. Legs secure. Condensed magic. Not sure how it works, and I have too big a headache to think about it now. I take a deep breath and blow it out. Set one: go.

The carpet here is louder than the den’s—scratchier too. Loud is good tonight. I lower myself until I can see the old stains, can practically smell the sweat of sleepless night’s past in the shag, and then push up. Down. Up. Over and over. I do not count. My breaths build in my ears. Each rise pushes her further away.

I slow. Stop. I allow five seconds of rest, then pick up the closest weight vest. Bolts are starting to spark up my back. I will regret this come dawn, but I accept it. I will take a backache over heartache any day.

I am a few good gasps in when I notice a shadow at the door. I freeze and stare, one hoof on a nearby dumbbell. I can recognize him by his outline, but assumptions can be death here. Red and orange briefly pulse near the shadow's face. I can smell Zebrican tobacco.

“Can’t sleep, huh,” Haystack says. Not a question.

“New report?” I ask. A thunderstorm would be nice. Something to do, somepony to track. A decent distraction.

“New record,” he chuckles. Figured. Haystack’s circadian rhythm had always been two measures offbeat. He eats and sleeps and worries around cycles of twang and big band. He nods over his withers. “Water?” Again, I can tell it’s not a question.

“I am fine.”

“Water,” he repeats. “I’ll be right back.” He must have been standing there longer than I had thought. I need to focus. In the streets, that could equal death. I unstrap the vest, wait for the magic to hiss again. It comes quicker than expected. I am still in push-up position and nearly slide onto the floor. My forelegs burn and shake. Mostly from the workout, but she pushes down as well.

I am able to get situated into my harness before he can get back, but he still insists on tightening the straps himself. Loose would be better, as I still have two more sets to do, but the company is nice so I let him do as he pleases. It keeps the mind fresh. Focused. Far away from it all.

That is if the first sip of water is not followed by questions. “What’s chiseling ya, Rock Girl?” he asks.

I let the cold swash across my teeth. Haystack loves his nicknames. It is charming enough. “I have things on my mind.”

“Understatement of the century.” He crosses his forelegs on the table, leaning forward. Moments like these I find ‘Father’ a more fitting code name than ‘Cousin.’ He can stare with the best. My throat burns. I swallow the lump.

“I can’t stop thinking.” I take a second sip. The glass is empty. “Rainbow Dash. Applejack. It dug things up.” I put the empty glass to my lips and hold it there. Hopefully Haystack will jump in and carry the conversation. But he stays silent. Watching. I am in the scope now. “I keep thinking about her.”

His gaze is distant. Realization hits with a furrowed brow. “You mean…” He pauses. I have told him not to speak of her. Not to distract. We had no room for these distant thoughts.

And tonight was proving resistance is futile. “Pinkie. Yes.”

Haystack knows her and he does not. We—she, mostly—had visited his cart many a time for evening grub back when detritus still covered our manes and the air burned with magical smoke. We did not stay long, but we were constant. He had tried small talk once or twice, but I was me and Pinkie was not Pinkie back in those days. There are pieces though. I can tell from his look.

I need another glass. I back away from the table and go to the sink. Running water is a good way to drown thoughts. I down the glass in a single gulp and fill up another. I will probably regret it later, but I do not care.

Haystack is still staring off into a distant time and place when I get to the table. Combing over past conversations, most likely. I have not told him much, but he has his ways of putting puzzles together. A flash passes over his eyes before he puts on his normal, wrinkled expression. “Will be a while ‘til the next storm, you know? Dash’s stunt was the first in weeks, and I don’t see her begging for another bomb anytime soon.” He shrugs. “Hell, might be the last ever. Never know when the Sun’ll come out from behind the clouds.”

I frown. I know where this is going. I do not like it, but I play along. “You’re saying?”

I say the words to myself as they escape his lips. “You should go.”

“What?” I know the answer.

Haystack smiles. “No need to play dumb, Rock Girl. Ain’t your style.” He reaches for his pipe and lights it. Blows a perfect ring. “I’m done with smuggling bombs for a good while. The amnesty is holding. Canterlot is feeling like Canterlot again. We aren’t getting rounded up anymore. Guards stay their hooves rather than pounce on sight. The stalls are starting to show full baskets again.” He shrugs. “Most we can do now is watch. Maybe things will be good, maybe they won’t. Times are changing, regardless.”

“That sounds like giving in. And after we nearly helped reignite the war?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to stir up the hornet’s nest if they aren’t stinging. We don’t exactly have a strong backing nowadays”

“Yet you gave her the bomb.”

“I owed her. I hoped like hell she wouldn’t go through with it, and she didn’t. Just like I hope you’ll chip away that face of yours and listen to me.” He chuckles. I keep frowning, staring. I say nothing. If only it worked on him. After a long pause he speaks up again. “You may not think it, but you got your tells, Maud. This has been eating you up since you rolled in that door, fetlockband, stolen harness and all. So much as mention your family or get you thinking about them, and boom! Fresh, open wounds. I can see it feasting on ya right now.”

He knows me well. “I’ll write a letter. You need me here. Just in case you owe anypony else favors.”

He smirks. “You have an address?”

“You can get one.”

“True, but…” He shakes his head. “Words on paper don’t heal this. I’ve seen it before. Felt it.” He pauses. For a second I see his eyes mist, but he blinks them away. “Go to them. With all you've given, you deserve a clear mind at least. So does your family. That’s the only way you’re gonna get it.”

It will never be clear, but he is right on the first part. Nothing tears at me more. So silence it is.

He smiles. Reading my mind, probably. “Don’t worry. Storm comes in, I’ll send you a note. Got plenty of dragonfire.”

I shake my head.

He rolls his eyes and nearly drops his pipe from his teeth. “Do I need to make that a direct order?”

“Is this a mission?”

It is Haystack’s turn to shake his head. He sighs. “Celestia save me, you never lose that damn fire in your eye, do ya?” He pauses to take a drag. “No, it’s not a mission. Unless you want finding yourself to be your only objective.” He smiles with tight lips.

I don’t return it. “I can't just leave.”

“If anypony’s earned the right to ‘just leave’ it's you.” He stretches. “But... whatever rolls your stone. Farmer might have something for the south. That's probably where they are. I’ll find something if not. Anything to clear your mind.” He glances towards the basement door. “Two hours left on that record. How ‘bout we just get some shut-eye, yeah?”

I cannot even begin to think about sleep. “Okay.” I blink and I am moving towards the couch again. Now my forelegs have betrayed me as well. Haystack follows, and I do not argue as he unhooks the straps and helps me up. A fresh wave of pill drunk has my vision and body bobbing. I should not have let Haystack ruin my rhythm, but the water tasted good. Warm welcome tonight.

“Rest easy, Rock Girl. You've earned it.” Haystack taps the lamp as I let a yawn past my lips. Darkness again. A few hoofsteps and I am alone again. I cannot even think about resting, and it certainly won’t be an easy one. She is too loud, too close.

They all are.

Comments

[Ice Star]

More pls :D

[RazedRainbow]

9027516
Since you asked nicely, I'll post some more tomorrow

[Ice Star]

9027569
Well thank you ~

[Reese]

"He gaze is distant."
"His gaze is distant."?

"Time are changing, regardless."
"Times are changing, regardless."?

"where they are I’ll find something"
Missing period?

[RazedRainbow]

9027633
Fixed, fixed, annnnd fixed. Thank ya very much

[Reese]

9027650
You're welcome!