Sensation (SFW Version)

by Vivid Syntax

Chapter 26 - Signs

We might as well have not talked for the rest of the afternoon. We stayed huddled together, clinging to each other in that tiny train cabin, and what little we said was pretty basic.

"Hungry?"

"No."

…and that would be it. Time passed agonizingly slowly, and it got too hot to stay together like that. Braeburn got up, opened a window, and sat down on the other bed, rubbing his eyes while a warm breeze lethargically circulated around the cabin, hardly keeping us cool.

It's not like the breeze had anywhere else to go. The sleeper cabin was only big enough for four small ponies, and it wasn't very wide. The stained, blue seats were something synthetic, and they stuck to our bodies, making us sweat. The paint was peeling from the walls. The place stank like cigarette smoke. The train didn't provide pillows, so we made some from our clothing. It was stuffy, it was hot, and it wasn't doing anything to lift our spirits.

After way too long, I sat up, crouching to keep from hitting my head on the low bunk bed above me. "You… don't need to worry, Applebutt. Tom didn't get much, and nopony believes those–"

"Please stop," he said flatly. "Just… stop it." He took his hat off and slid it under the bed, where he'd stored his other things.

My shoulders sank. "Braeburn, I said I'm sorry." It didn't feel like enough. It felt empty, like I was just saying something to make myself feel better, and really, I was. "I won't snap like that again. Really. I promise."

Braeburn sat up a little. He shook his head. "S-Soarin', there's a lot to think about right now. And I…" He turned away. "Just… give me some time, okay?"

I shrunk. He was doing it again. "Please don't shut me out, Applebutt. I'm sorry."

He started blinking rapidly again, and his chest began to heave as he took quick, shallow breaths.

I lifted a hoof and reached out to touch him. "Braeburn, I–"

Braeburn pushed my hoof away. "I want to get to Ponyville." It was stern all of a sudden, and he looked me in the eye and swallowed hard. "I just need to get to Ponyville. Give me until then. Please?"

I paused. It took me a moment to put my hoof back down, and when I did, it felt hollow somehow. "…Okay."

That was the only conversation we had. Besides ordering something from the dinner cart (which filled the room with an awful, stale smell), I didn't hear his voice until after the sun had set. He settled into the opposite bed, weary-eyed and lethargic from the heavy meal.

The space between us was tangible and thick. I opened a wing and pleaded, "Can we sleep together, at least?"

Braeburn's eyes sagged, and he stared for a long moment without moving, like his brain was completely burned out. Without a word, he lazily hobbled over and settled in to be the little spoon, and we slept together in that tiny bed for a few hours. Actually, "slept" is probably too generous. Every little bump would knock us together and push Brae off the bed a little further, until, in the middle of the night, he rolled off the bed with a groan. "Dammit," he grumbled. He collapsed onto the bed opposite me and shut his eyes.

I shut mine, too, but it didn't do much good. Whenever I would start drifting off, I'd open my eyes again and see Braeburn across from me, fidgeting. Even in the dim moonlight, I could see that his eyes were twitching, like he was having a bad dream. I wanted to comfort him, so I whispered, "Brae, I…"

I didn't get any further than that. Everything inside me felt so tangled up. I wanted to tell him that it would be okay and that we'd get through everything together, but my body felt paralyzed. I was worried that, if I talked, I'd just fuck something up and push him even further away, and all I could say was, "Please don't leave me, Brae."

At some point, I managed to fall asleep, barely. I don't think my dreams were very pleasant, but I don't remember anything from that night. The first sliver of sunlight hit me right in the eyes, and my head felt like somepony had taken an ax to it. The bed creaked under me when I tried to scoot away from the light, and that woke up Braeburn, too.

He rolled up onto his side, then rubbed his eyes and wiped some sweat from his forehead. His fur was matted. He'd been sweating all night, and the cabin smelled like both of us, which was nice, at least. He wasn't enjoying it, though. Instead, he looked like he would fall over. He grumbled something, but I didn't catch it, so he cleared his throat and said, "Mornin'."

I sat up slowly – I was super dizzy – and stretched my wings out as much as I could, which wasn't far. "Hey."

He rubbed his eyes again and squinted at me. "Geez, Soarin'. Looks like you had a rough night. The hell happened?"

I cracked my neck. "What do you mean?"

"Your forehead." He nodded his head at something on my face. "You need some ice for that?"

I crossed my eyes upwards, but I couldn't see anything. With a tender hoof, I reached up, but since I was still barely awake, it took me a few tries to find the bruise. I put… I p-put pressure on it…

…

Look, I didn't remember anything, okay!? I don't know how it got there! It was an accident! How was I supposed to even deal with it when I couldn't remember what had happened? Those trains are a fucking hazard, you know what I mean? Don't blow your money on 'em unless you're really getting a good one. Do some research. I mean, I don't wanna sound like a spoiled celebrity or anything, but it was pretty much the worst train I'd ever been on.

* * * * *

Instinctively, I back off half a pace. Why's he talking so fast? And with such a harsh tone?

My skin prickles, and my brain buzzes. He sounds angry, and now he's rambling about trains. Why would it be such a big deal to…

…

No, that… but…

…

Oh dear.

Be delicate, Syn. Be very, very delicate. "Soarin'? Are you…" Gentle. "Sorry, but earlier you mentioned that you were having trouble re–"

"Please don't say it." Soarin's lip is quivering just slightly, and he's refusing to look at me. "I…"

* * * * *

"I'll be fine."

Braeburn sat up all the way and looked out the window. "Okay." He hadn't doted on me or asked me again or anything.

It felt wrong, and it bored into me, itching like grass was growing under my fur. I had to distract myself with something. "You want any coffee?"

Without looking at me, he snapped, "I want us to get our shit together so we don't have to run all the time."

"Applebutt, I'm sorry. Again."

"I know." Braeburn frowned and let out a long breath. "The road must be wearin' on us, Big Blue. Haven't been away from home this long in a long time." He let his forehead press against the glass. "I wanna talk to Big Mac. He'll know what to do."

My tail flicked involuntarily. "W-why not talk to me? I'm here right now."

He put a hoof on the glass, and he spoke softly. "Because I miss him, Soarin'. Mac's always known what to do, what's important. He's always got some kind of wisdom, and I…" He took a shuddering breath, like he was right on the verge of tears. "I think I need it now more than ever."

My head sunk, and I weakly asked, "Why? I'm… I'm going to take care of you."

Braeburn looked down at the floor, his shoulders sagging. He was breathing heavily again. "I…" He closed his eyes and sucked in his lower lip. I knew that look – it was the one you get when something wants to come out, tries to force its way out of your mouth, and it's taking all your willpower to hold it in. It's the look that means there's bad news, but you can't bring yourself to say it. "I just wanna talk to Mac." With a heavy breath, he walked to the door, mumbled, "Restroom," and snuck out.

I flopped onto the bed on my right side, and my left ear flicked. It felt heavier, and I grunted a little when I realized why that was. I lifted a hoof and hesitated. I said, "Eh, screw it," and reached up to take the stud out of my ear.

But I couldn't. I got one hoof on the backing, and one on the gemstone. I told myself I was just taking it off for a little, that I would kiss it and hold it and treat it like the precious thing that it was, and that it was okay to let it be separate from me, but I couldn't. I just… physically couldn't. Even if I hadn't said it out loud, I'd promised Braeburn I'd keep my stud in for as long as he had to. I wasn't going to break that promise.

Braeburn came back after a long time and softly shut the door behind him. He blew some air out of his lips, and I smelled a faint hint of whiskey. "Ok. So." His voice was direct and precise. He was trying to cover up the fog on his mind. "The train always slows down long before Ponyville, and it's usually delayed, what with it bein' a hub and all."

Since I didn't have the energy to talk about anything else, what could I do but play along? "So… we ditch before it hits the station?"

"Uh-huh. Sweet Apple Acres is on the west side, anyway, so it'll be closer. Besides, just our luck, Pinkie Pie'd throw a big welcome party outta nowhere and blow our cover."

I raised an eyebrow. "Pinkie? Is she that pink earth pony who's always singing and throwing confetti everywhere?"

Braeburn perked up a bit. "Yeah. You know her?"

I shrugged. "Kinda. She's friends with a pony in the reserves that I keep bumping into. Name's Rainbow Dash. I think they're all Princess Twilight's friends."

Braeburn was looking at me, not quite smiling, but not as drained, either.

"What?"

"Small world, I guess. You remember the other earth pony? Applejack?"

It took me a while, but it came back. "I think so. Orange pony? Sells pies at the Grand Galloping Gala?"

"Heh. Eeyup." As frivolous and quick as it was, I liked seeing that smile. "That's my cousin, Big Mac's little sister. You'll be meetin' her today." Some of the color drained from his face, and his expression fell. "You'll, uh… You'll be meetin' all of 'em." He crossed the cabin and looked out the window again, craning his neck to look for the station.

I had to be there for him. I stepped up next to him and pulled him closer with a wing. "It'll be okay, Applebutt. I mean, they probably already suspected." It hurt to say it, but I added, "And… Big Mac will be there, too."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." His head tilted, like he was going to rest on my shoulder, but he stopped at the last second, leaving me feeling cold and even more distant. "If we wanna get some coffee, we'd best do it quickly."

We grabbed our stuff and made our way back to the dining car. I checked to see if Smileshine was behind the bar, but it wasn't him. Guess the world isn't that small. A fan spotted me, though, but she was still pretty groggy, too, and she looked a little hungover. I gave her the last of my headshots – a little wrinkled, but still good – and put a hoof to my lips. She gave me an understanding wink and let us pass, whispering, "I won't tell."

A few minutes later, we stood at the outside of the caboose. When the train slowed down, I made a few fly-bys to drop our stuff off along the tracks, then prepared to catch Braeburn. I clenched my teeth while he got ready, but he jumped off with no problem. We picked up our things and walked.

There wasn't a road to follow, but Braeburn looked like he knew where he was going, and the terrain was pretty flat. There were plenty of trees, too, so we weren't afraid of getting spotted. The sky still looked like it was on fire from the sunrise, and the morning dew clung to our hooves and sank into our fur. A few birds chirped, and everything smelled like grass, just like I remembered it.

See, Ponyville wasn't all that foreign to me. I'd been there a few times for random stuff, and it's not really big enough to get lost in. Still, it was good to have somepony there that could guide me around the outskirts. I was glad he'd found the shortest route, too, because even though we only had a few saddlebags each, they weighed down heavily on us. Just walking was a chore, and every soft patch of grass along the side of the road looked like a great place for a nap.

I started to ask something like, "When we–"

BOOM!!!

"–SHIT!!!" We ducked down and kissed the dirt, and I threw a wing around Braeburn. We shivered next to each other, stifling coughs from the dirt.

BOOM! Crackle crackle crackle…

After a few seconds, we peeked out and saw a massive fireworks display over the town as some super obnoxious polka music blasted our way.

Braeburn looked over at me. "Told ya'."

That got us to smile for a second, at least. We stood up, brushed ourselves off, and kept walking along a road on the outside of town.

We eventually turned down a small road at the edge of a tree line, and before I knew it, we were wandering through an orchard. A few of the apple trees were still blooming, but our hooves trampled some of the slightly brown petals that littered the path. The road was narrow, and the branches bore down on me. I wanted to stretch out and fly, but that would have put more space between us, which I wasn't willing to do.

It was all the worse because we weren't saying anything, but we were both so tired that we barely noticed time passing. At least, Braeburn didn't. I eventually complained, "Ugh! Are we almost there?"

"Aw, deal with it, ya' big foal," he groaned.

I recoiled a little. "Geez. Sorry."

He squinted hard and shook his head. "Sorry, sorry. Short fuse today. I'm not really lookin' forward to goin' through that whole rigmarole again."

I softened up. "It's okay." His blue stud caught the sunlight. "Anything your coltfriend can do?"

Braeburn sighed. "You're sweet, but I…" He raised his head. "Uh, actually, maybe. Could you, uh… could you please fly up and see where Big Mac is?"

My chest burned a little.

He must have seen me make a face, and he pleaded, "Please, Big Blue? Mac's always been there for me, and he's always stood up for me, no matter who was givin' me trouble. He'll help us out, and I wanna make sure I see him first, before I gotta deal with the rest of the family."

I snorted. "Fine."

Braeburn sulked.

I sighed. "Sorry. I'll try to do better. Where's he gonna be?"

Braeburn thought for a moment, and the bags under his eyes seemed to deepen. "Hard to say. It's a lot of land, but I bet he won't be too hard to spot, unless he's still feedin' the chickens." Tired Rambling Braeburn was a lot more monotone than Classic Rambling Braeburn. "Nah, he woulda gotten up before sunrise to take care of all that. If he hadn't, they'd be cluckin' his ears off. Probably already out in the fields doin' work before it gets too hot. It's a bit early for the summer crops, so he'll probably be plowin' one of the fallow fields. You should look for him there."

I nodded. "Okay. What's a fallow?"

Braeburn stopped in his tracks, wide-eyed.

I stopped, too, and turned around toward him, raising an eyebrow. "Is it, like, corn?"

With a short, snorting laugh, he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Soarin', ya'…" He grabbed me for a big hug and a nuzzle. He sighed and whispered into my ear, "Ya' beautiful idiot."

I didn't really get it, and I still don't know what a fallow is, but I really, really needed that hug, so I didn't mind.

I hugged him back, then dropped my bags and took off galloping. My muscles ached, but once the blood started flowing again, my body felt right. My wings flared out, and the rush of fresh air felt like home. A few hard flaps, and I was into the air, rising up into the sunny sky as the wind carried me higher. It was a warm morning, and my wings hadn't gotten to stretch in a long time, so I did a few little stunts first, just to shake the dust off.

After that, I flew in the direction Braeburn had pointed to, and it wasn't long before I was in farm country. He'd been right – it was easy to spot the big red splotch of a pony on the brown earth. He was plowing an empty field, not a fallow field, but he was hard at it, and he didn't notice me.

I turned back and flew down to Braeburn. When I told him I'd found Mac, he stood up straighter, his face lighting up.

Mine just darkened.

He barely let me put my bags back on before he took off running. I caught up and flew next to him. My chest was heavy, and I wanted to make sure, make absolutely sure he wouldn't rather talk to me instead. "Braeburn, are you really–"

We crested the hill by the empty field, and Braeburn shouted, "Cousin Mac!"

Big Mac stopped pulling the plow and looked up. He cocked his head to the side, but his posture shifted when he saw who we were. I can't really say Big Mac moved quickly – it was Big Mac – but he didn't hesitate to unhitch himself from the plow and stand there waiting.

I got there a few paces ahead of Braeburn, which gave me time to rotate my wings back. With a good hard flap, I canceled my forward momentum. I stuck a two-point landing and dropped to all four hooves, getting a good look at Big Mac.

He was sweaty but didn't look uncomfortable, and he wasn't paying attention to me. 'Figures.' He looked strong in the morning light, not tired at all, just a big, resilient stallion that could take on the world and protect the ponies he loved. His face was relaxed, and he radiated that same energy that should have made me feel like everything was going to be okay, but it only filled me with dread. Maybe I was just imagining it, but it seemed like he was standing between me and the sun, and I shivered as he cast a long shadow on me.

"Braeburn!" he shouted with an open foreleg and a smile on his face.

Braeburn threw himself into Mac, and…

He started crying. Immediately. Like, full-on floodgates: he was sobbing and shaking and moaning. He tried and failed to keep himself under control, and Mac had to help him stay standing. From the look on his face, Mac hadn't been expecting Braeburn's reaction, either, but he stood there solidly, holding Braeburn up without failing.

That scene cut right through me. Braeburn, my coltfriend, was so, so sad. Miserable. The world was treating him so poorly: just getting off a bad breakup, his whole life was in chaos, and Braeburn, my coltfriend, had kept me away. He'd stayed tight-lipped and held it all in, even when he'd really needed somepony to be there, but here he was, letting everything spill out to the wrong pony. My legs nearly buckled as I watched, and I kept thinking, 'That's supposed to be me.'

Braeburn tried to say something, but all I could hear was mumbling towards Big Mac.

I felt small all over again. I was back to being a colt, on the outside looking in. Nothing I did had mattered; not the escape, not Las Pegasus, nothing. When he was at his breaking point, Braeburn hadn't wanted to talk to me. No, when push came to shove, when he was feeling so down and so scared, I wasn't the one he turned to. He'd wanted Big Mac all along, and he had been willing to shut me completely out until he got to talk to the pony he really trusted.

I froze. I was a statue. That's all I was: just a set piece in his life, something pretty that he didn't really need. The hole in my chest came back, and all the little things coalesced into one thought: 'He's going to leave me.'

My jaw hung open, and my mouth was getting dry, and my eyes were getting wet, but I barely wanted to breathe. 'He's going to leave me.' I was going to cry. I was going to cry, and Braeburn wasn't even going to notice. 'It's my fault. It's always my fault. He's going to leave me, because I messed everything up.'

My face flushed. I felt embarrassed. I felt ashamed. I felt betrayed. I felt a whole storm of things, and none of them were good. I hadn't been enough for him, and I'd let my anger get the better of me in that carriage, and it had driven him away. I'd driven him away. I was convinced I'd made him want to leave me. He was miserable, and he broke his promise and hadn't told me.

I wanted to shout. Not just at him, but at everything, especially myself, but I didn't have anything left. As my vision blurred with tears, my voice welled up in my throat, but all that came out was a choked, "F… Fine."

It felt like I was just watching myself as I spread my wings. A few flaps. A few more. A few dozen before I knew it. The wind felt cold, but I let it take me. It was one of the roughest and fastest take-offs I'd ever had, without even trying. I was flying away without even realizing it.

I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. I barely felt anything. The smell of dirt filled my nostrils, kicked up from the take-off, and the horizon fell further and further below me. I wasn't folding my legs in like I was supposed to, and my mouth had gone dry from still being so slack, and I flew.

I flew and flew. I didn't keep track of where I went, but occasionally a cloud would brush against my face or a bird would dodge out of my way, and that was the only way I knew I was still in the air.

My heart rate picked up, and I slowly came back to reality. I felt the sun on my face and realized I was flying east. My tail lashed wildly behind me. I felt each muscle contraction of my wings: tight, then releasing in rapid succession. My hooves were numb.

The world burned back into my vision, and the more it came back, the more the pain in my heart took over. I tried to fight it. I tried to keep it down and swallow it whenever it jumped up into my throat. My jaw hurt from clenching so much. I wanted to stop.

But I kept going. I kept flying east, towards Cloudsdale. My flight path was wobbly, and my wings felt tense.

I was flying for almost an hour, my mind spinning and struggling to keep my consciousness out, but when my breath got heavy and turned to sobs, I had to stop. I landed on a small cloud, just a little bigger than a bed, and desperately gasped for breath. My lungs burned. Staying still let all the pain flood back into my body. I wanted it to. I wanted to hurt and to be scared and to realize how awful I was.

And I wanted it to stop. I wanted it to stop hurting and for everything to be okay.

I didn't know what I wanted.

The wind whistled through some trees in the forest below me, and all around me, the only thing I could see was empty, empty blue sky.

'I wrecked it. He's going to leave me.'

I took shallow breaths. I told myself I wouldn't lose it. I was going to be strong and get through it on my own, just like I had before Braeburn. 'Back before I ever met him. Back when I was all alone.'

I made the mistake of looking up, looking around for Fire Streak or Spitfire or Holli or anypony. My head jerked around, searching for literally anything, but nopony was there.

I was alone.

"Hu… huh…" My body trembled. "Aaaaaah!!!!" I screamed and collapsed into the cloud beneath me, and I cried. I cried my soul out into the cold cloud that couldn't hug back, that wasn't warm like the pony I loved. I cried and wailed and tried to bury my face in it just so I wouldn't have to hear the horrible noise of my own screaming.

But it didn't help. The guilt, the exhaustion, the fear… it all came crashing down on me at once. 'I yelled at him up at the farm. I led the media right to him. I dragged him along and made him miserable and embarrassed him and made him so, so scared.'

"Fuck… Fuck!" I bit into the cloud just to shut myself up, but I just sobbed louder as hot tears streamed down my face and onto the cloud.

Nopony was there to comfort me. I was alone.

I remembered that night with Sapphire Shores, flying around Manehattan and feeling the loneliness dig into me. This was so much worse. I felt like some unseen sadness had reached into my ribcage and wrenched it open, only to find that there was nothing left.

I cried more. I tried to stop so many times, to grow up and let it roll off my back, but I couldn't. I couldn't control myself, and that scared me even more, and I just cried and cried until there wasn't anything left.

A long, long time, later, I started to regain control of my breathing, just barely. I took deep, shuddering breaths, and let them out as slowly as I could, first to a count of three, then to four, then to five. It helped, and all I was left with was a cloud and the quiet.

My body went slack. I wanted to fall through the cloud and hit the ground and just die. 'He's the best thing in my life, and I wrecked everything.' Everything was heavy, and for a while, I couldn't move.

Minutes later, I managed to lift my head, just enough to rest my chin on the cloud. My eyes felt scratchy, and breathing took a lot of effort.

My wing felt cramped, but I couldn't stretch it. My hind leg was falling asleep, but I couldn't move it. I felt powerless in every sense of the word. 'Should I even go back? It wouldn't do any good. He's happier with his family than he'd ever be with me. I just screw things up.' I thought about the Wonderbolts and how I'd screwed that up, too.

I pulled myself over to the edge of the cloud and let my face hang off it. I stared down at the ground, the trees moving lazily across my vision. I wanted somepony to talk to. I needed somepony to talk to, and there was only one pony there to listen, and so, I sighed and reached out to the only pony that I felt like I had left.

"You there, Dad?"

He didn't answer. The cloud kept drifting through the sky, and I traced the way the wind blew in the grass below me.

"It's Stormcloud. I fucked up again." My ears went flat. "Sorry for swearing." I wanted a disapproving but understanding response, and I didn't get one, so I just kept going. "I screwed up. Really, really badly. I… don't know how much you've been paying attention, but I guess you probably have, since you don't have much else to do… No offense. It's just like, what do you do all the time when you're dead? Do you just… watch me all the time? Do you know when we're sleeping together? Or did you meet somepony else?" I raised an eyebrow. "Do ghosts date?" Then I slumped. "Or am I keeping you too distracted and screwing up your afterlife relationships, too?"

That didn't sit well, and I knew what he'd say. I dropped my voice and tried to sound like him. It wasn't really the same, but it was better than nothing. "You didn't screw up anything, Stormcloud. What happened with your mother and I wasn't your fault."

"Yeah, I know. You said that already." I sighed. "It just… seems like I can't hold it together, though, I guess. Like… why didn't you teach me about any of this stuff? It's messed up." My cheeks felt hot, and my voice gradually got louder. "I mean, it's not like I got much practice with this stuff, right? Just because you screwed up with Mom, now we have to go through all the same shit?"

My eyes burned again. "What the fuck, Dad?! Why couldn't we have just been normal and happy, huh?" My hackles raised, and shifted on the cloud. "And now what the fuck am I supposed to do? Braeburn's miserable, and he doesn't want to talk to me. He's the first pony I've ever fucking cared about, and I flipped out, and now he's going to leave me, just like every-fucking-pony else!!!"

Nopony answered.

I felt like an idiot, like a foal, screaming out his problems at the universe because he couldn't do anything about it.

My ears felt hot, the left one, especially. I flicked it, and the stud felt heavy in there. I sighed. "Sorry. I just… He can't leave me." I flopped back down onto the cloud and mumbled, "Everypony always leaves me."

Everything raced through my head again, from the loneliness to the anger to the fear of going back to the Wonderbolts and pretending everything in my life was fine, right up until I died. The breeze blew softly, carrying the earthy smells of the grasses far below me. The sunlight's warmth had worked deeply into my muscles, and slowly, my heart began to feel like nothing, which was a welcome comfort. It wasn't enough, though.

I knew what I wanted. I wanted Braeburn. I wanted to go back and see him smiling and waiting for me and telling me that everything was okay, that he wasn't mad. I wanted to fly back and be his daring stallion and be good enough for him. I wanted to make it right, but I just couldn't bring myself to move on my own.

I don't know what you believe. Maybe you believe in destiny or some divine force, or maybe you think the dead really do watch over us. Maybe you think it's all bullshit and that life is nothing but a bunch of random shit that happens to you before you die. And that's cool. I'm okay with that. I'd usually think that way, too, that terrible things happen every day to us, and we can't do anything about them. It doesn't make sense to wait around for signs from above or some ancient dead guy to solve your problems for you. You need to take care of yourself, and most of the things that we think are blessings are just random coincidences. You can't rely on the universe being kind to you, and I still believe that to this day.

But that didn't change the fact that the wind was blowing me back west.

The realization dawned on me slowly, and just as slowly, a smile spread across my face. The emptiness filled just a little, and I caught myself whispering, "Thanks, Dad."

With a shudder, I lurched onto my stomach, then unsteadily hoisted myself to my hooves, shaking bits of cloud out of my mane. I was still exhausted, but it felt like an invisible string was holding me up. I slowly stretched out my wings and my aching neck, then looked back to the west. With a hard flap, my wings spread wide open, and I took off, flying over miles and miles of green hills and greener trees, blue lakes and brown dirt roads, all baking in the sun.

The flight back was hard. I was already dehydrated from my flight out there to wherever-the-hell-I-was, and there weren't enough clouds to stay in the shade. I didn't rush – the closer I got to the farm, the more the gnarled dread in my stomach kept me going at an even pace, reminding me that I might be about to get some very bad news – but the exhaustion still got to me. I felt a stitch in my side for a long time. My wings went from tingling to aching to burning to aching even worse, to the point that I worried I would blow them out. I had to seriously consider just gliding to the ground.

I made it, though. After another hour and some change, I spotted the colorful houses of Ponyville in the distance, and I gave the town a wide berth to avoid being seen. Once I'd coasted around it to the west side, I scanned the ground until I found a red farmhouse on the edge of a patchwork of fields. I flew past it – something told me to go look by the apple trees.

I wish I could say that I was jazzed up, that I knew what I was doing was right, like it was supposed to be, but my head was just… vacant. I was looking for some yellow or a brown hat or anything among the green orchards, but my brain didn't really do much else. Self-defense mechanism, maybe? Or maybe I'd just learned to stop trying to predict things.

Then, I spotted something. At first, it looked like a big pile of lumber out in a treeless part of the orchard, but when I looked again, I could see it clearly: the boards spelled out "BB."

'Big Blue,' I told myself as a smile crept across my face. 'It's not too late.'

My smile was short-lived, though, when I realized that, yeah, maybe it was too late. Braeburn had seen me flip out at Fertile Seed back in Appleloosa, but at least that time I'd had a good reason. I was defending him. I was his knight in shining feathers. The carriage, though? Aggression. Hatred. Violence. I hadn't been defending him. I'd just given in and let my anger control me.

The wind seemed to die under my wings as I tilted them and started spiraling downward. I was dropping altitude, yeah, but even more than that, I felt like I was sinking.

I was moving a little faster than I'd liked, but with everything else going on in my head, I didn't have the capacity to keep my speed totally in check until I realized how close I was getting to the ground.

Pulling back up just a little, I slowed myself enough to land safely, right next to the boards in the clearing. I think I smelled him before I saw him, but when I turned my head, I found Braeburn resting under a nearby tree. He stood up with a weary smile on his face, but something was off, and my stomach immediately dropped.

It's weird how you can pick up on somepony's quirks so quickly. His gait was strange: he was trying to put the same bounciness into it that he did when he was showing ponies around Appleloosa, but it lacked energy. It was lethargic. And… sad. His hooves didn't plant themselves firmly on the ground like they usually did. Instead, they dragged just a little, even though he was trying to cover it up. He was still hiding.

I don't know why I focused on his hooves so much, but I kept doing it until he said in a quiet, raspy voice. "Saw the sign, did ya'?"

I looked up. His was forcing his eyes open enough that they wouldn't just be slits, but I could see how much of a strain that was, and his smile was little more than a slight curve. He was trying, though, and I could at least do the same.

My hooves felt welded in place, so I just nodded and folded my wings back in. "Hard to miss." I paused and added an awkward, "Heh heh," and a toothy grimace.

"Well, you certainly…" He trailed off, and he cast his eyes down as he stopped about a meter away from me. Just like that, his game was up, and he gave up trying to hide the gloom in his soul. "I was afraid you wouldn't come back."

My head slowly turned to the side, and his words stung me in the chest, right in the same place that was telling me to stop being so slow and apologize already. "I… didn't know if you wanted me anymore."

Braeburn didn't respond. A tear rolled down his cheek.

The breeze rustled some of the leaves that surrounded us, and one of the logs rolled off of its place on the B, hitting the ground with a soft toof. The clearing smelled flowery and sweet, but I could still detect Braeburn through it all, sweating even more than when we'd been on the train. The sun still blazed down on us, and combined with what I was feeling inside, it was getting unbearably hot.

Braeburn tried to lift his head, but it didn't come up very much. "W-we–" There was another long pause, and a breeze jostled his soft, gorgeous mane. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath before he finally looked up and met my gaze, his voice low and mild and clear.

"We need to talk."

Comments

[Mix-up]

you're still at it again?!

[Vivid Syntax]

7806000
I have a stockpile of these. I'm updating every day in December, though my supply is running out. Luckily, editing them to be SFW is a fairly quick process.