• Published 30th Jul 2018
  • 5,851 Views, 480 Comments

Family Tree - miss-cyan



Getting cryptic notes from dead relatives is never a good thing. This was no exception. What are you supposed to do when someone wants you to solve a mystery when there's something out in the woods? That turns out to be the least of my problems.

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The Regret

The pie was delicious, and the mood had lightened up considerably with something sweet to cheer me up. I was starting to pick up that the Apple family liked using apples in their dishes, but I wasn’t going to complain at the most delicious apple pie I’d ever eaten.

I was stuffed by the end, and hopefully it would tide me over until dinner. I offered to help clean up, and despite telling them as much, this was one chore guests weren’t allowed in on. I was shooed to the living room, and Granny Smith joined me after a moment. I guess the kids had taken over.

“Well, let’s get an idea about what you can help out with, since you seem so eager n’ all.” She stepped around me, eyeing me up and down. “Your welcome to rest up, it being your first day on the farm n’ all.”

“I’m fine.” I told her. “It’ll help me get a good night’s sleep.”

“Hm…Well, you look skinnier without any fur on you…but I think…” she reached up to my arm, and I lowered it a bit for her. She touched it with her hoof, nodding. Then to my hands, nodding again.

“I knew I saw a little muscle on ya.” She laughed. “You won’t be goin’ as hard as my grandfoals do, but a hard day’s work ain’t gonna hurt you none either. And these bendy doodads of yours got some calluses on them. You’re used to workin’.”

“I can keep up.” I didn’t think of myself as strong but lifting boxes at work for the last few years had made me a bit less scrawny than teenage me. And I worked with my hands a lot so calluses were a given.

“I’m sure we’ll find something for you around here, there’s always work to be done.” she looked me over again, tilting her head. “If’n you’re wantin’ to work outside or clean around here, I wouldn’t want you to ruin your nice clothes. But we can’t have a furless creature like yourself running around like a shorn sheep.”

Now that going home was further away, I was going to need more clothes than a jacket and skirt. And my options were limited, I couldn’t exactly ask anyone to borrow their clothes. I was going to have to put in an order with Rarity, as much as I didn’t want to bother anyone.

It’s not a big deal. I thought. Just ask for help and take it when you can. No one thinks you’re a burden.

“I’ll do something about that as soon as I’m able.” I told her.

“Well, for now, would you be up for helping me whack the dust out of our rugs?” she went to the closet, digging out a couple of carpet beaters. I started rolling up the rugs she told me to, and we lugged them out to a rack outside, behind the house.

I was burning off a lot of energy and wound up nerves, just beating the hell out of some rugs. The dust made me sneeze every once in a while, getting a laugh out of Granny Smith every time.

I helped out with a few things before dinner, doing what I’d like to think was a pretty decent job. I did a lot of side jobs for the meal with Apple Bloom as Granny cooked and the older siblings were out in the orchard. I had a few hours, not thinking of anything sad or making myself anxious, and I was already starting to feel that calm that settles in after a busy day.

Applejack and Big Mac came in from outside with slightly damp manes and fur, just as things were getting put on the table.

“Oh good, you washed up already.” Granny set the basket of rolls on the table, settling into her spot at the head of it.

“Hey Applejack.” I got her attention. “Could I ask you for something, after dinner?”

“Course you can!” she smiled, and we sat down to eat.

I started a list in my head of things I’d have to ask Rarity for, and she’d have to come over to get all my measurements. But it was all necessary work, and she’d be getting paid to if I ended up getting that stipend.



Hard at work on her and her sister’s Nightmare Night costumes, Rarity was grateful for the lull in orders that came right around this time of the year. But she would admit to missing the certain mental stimulation that came with a particularly challenging order.

So, she wasn’t expecting to hear the familiar sound of the bell above the boutique door chiming at this time of day. She found a good stopping point and trotted over to the showroom.

“Hello, welcome to Rarity’s-” she cut short her usual greeting upon seeing Apple Bloom waiting for her, saddlebags on her back. The filly smiled and walked up to her.

“Hey Rarity!” she smiled.

“Why hello there Apple Bloom!” she smiled back. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Lottie’s stayin’ with us, and she sent me with a message for ya.” She pulled a folded piece of paper from her saddlebags and cleared her throat.

“Dear Rarity…” She began, sounding as if she was reading from something more official than a letter. “You know I’m not crazy about asking for things, but this is something I really need. Twilight’s working on getting me a stipend so I insist on paying you for this, especially since it’s kind of a tall order.”

“I need a few pieces of clothing made. They’re nothing complicated, just simple clothes to get me by. Sorry about asking this through a letter, but for reasons you can probably imagine, I’m not quite ready to come into town yet.

I’m out on the Apple farm, and I’ll be ready to get my measurements done, should you choose to help me out. If you do accept, take as much time as you need. I know this stuff might not be your usual work, but I’d really appreciate it. I know we talked about it already but being naked really is a no go for me.

Thanks so much, and again, you’re getting paid this time, don’t fight me on this one.

Sincerely,

Lottie.

P.S. I’m sure Apple Bloom is dying to tell you about me by now, so get ready for this one.”

Apple Bloom did indeed look fit to burst, a wide smile on her face. Rarity wondered what could be so exciting about their new visitor.

“Well, out with it.” She grinned, and the filly launched into the tale.

Before long she was running up the stairs to tell the same story to Sweetie Belle, who was up in her room preparing her things for class tomorrow.

“Well, that’s certainly quite the discovery!” she said to herself. “A hybrid…”

Her mind was racing and she was already going over her available fabrics without a second thought. She had an extra one in mind for dear Charlotte.

“Something you might find yourself needing, hopefully.” She laughed to herself, feeling particularly giddy.



I was sitting in the living room, and after Granny Smith found out I was handy with a needle and thread, my newest chore was to patch up some old blankets and curtains. I was grateful for the busy work, and I soon fell into my familiar routine of stitching. For the first time in days I was just…in the zone. Completely Zen.

I was stitching along when I heard talking just beyond the front door. It sounded like Rarity was here.

She stepped in behind Applejack, followed by Apple Bloom and a smaller filly about her age I hadn’t met. Her eyes went wide at the sight of me, but quickly slipped into a big smile matching Apple Bloom’s.

“Hello Charlotte!” Rarity smiled, floating her saddlebags onto the couch. “I figured this would be better done sooner than later, so we rushed right over.” She eyed the new filly, smiling wryly at her. “And I’d like you to meet my little sister, Sweetie Belle. As you can probably tell, she is very anxious to meet you.”

“Sweetie Belle…” I looked at her, and she stopped in her tracks. I thought back to Apple Bloom’s room and everything she told me. “One of the Crusaders?”

She lit up again, looking at Apple Bloom who nodded, smiling. Sweetie hopped over, and her eyes scanned me up and down.

“Huh…Apple Bloom said you had long claws but those don’t look like they could hurt anypony…” She eyed my nervous smile, head tilted. “And your fangs don’t look like you could eat a pony in one bite.”

“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity shouted, sounding mortified. Applejack was glaring sternly at Apple Bloom. Both fillies flinched away from their sisters.

“Hey, I didn’t say nothin’ about no pony-eating fangs!” Apple Bloom defended herself, her accent thickening with dread. “That’s just what our classmates at school have been sayin’!”

I sighed to myself, wondering how long this boogeyman crap could last.

“I didn’t mean that I thought you looked scary, honest!” Sweetie Belle hung her head a bit, looking up at me. “I think you look…nice! Not like a pony but…not like an anything really. But Apple Bloom said you’re good and I believe her.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence.” I looked to Apple Bloom, giving her a real smile. “And it is nice to meet you Sweetie Belle.”

The air cleared, Rarity took the room’s attention.

“Well, if introductions are out of the way…” She floated a few things over, looking excited. “Should we take this to the guest room? I know you’re not fond of being seen in such a state that measurement can require.”

The fillies looked confused, but before the awkward questions could come, Applejack took charge.

“Now, you two run off and find something to do.” She told them, nudging at Apple Bloom’s side with her nose. “Lottie likes her privacy.”

“Oh! Wanna check out the blanket fort Lottie and me made?” her sister bounced, excited. Sweetie couldn’t agree fast enough, and the two fillies zipped up the stairs.



It was just Rarity and I in the guest room now, the curtains only drawn enough to light the room. Not that I was expecting any second-story spectators to this, but I guess she was taking my “preferences” seriously. She set her supplies on the trunk at the foot of the bed and slipped on a pair of red, cat’s eye reading glasses, a measuring tape hung around her neck like a stylish scarf.

“Alright, before we begin, I will need you to describe your usual clothing choices. What you’re the most comfortable in. I tend to have a flair for the dramatic in such matters but the last thing we need is you being uncomfortable in something you’ll be wearing all the time.” She pulled out a sketchpad, ready to go.

“Uh…well, I don’t have much of a style to what I wear.” I admitted, feeling a little dazed talking to a clothing designer about my “style”, or lack thereof. “I work a lot and I like to wear stuff that’s comfy. Mostly stuff that won’t cling in the wrong spots. And it should…breathe, I guess?” I wondered if it sounded like I was talking out of my ass. I was, a little. Fashion is hard.

“Hm…Durable, functional, but not stiff. I see…and you’ll need some work clothes…” She looked down at my bare feet. “Soft…well, luckily for you I do a bit of cobbling from time to time. I’m not a fan, but you’ll need some work boots…supportive…” She motioned for me to sit on the empty spot on the bed and took a leg in her magic. She set to work figuring out how to measure my feet. “Have you given any thought to color? I have a wide variety of dyes so don’t be shy.”

“I wear a lot of…I don’t know. Neutral colors?” My drawers and closet were littered with things in grays, blacks and muted colors, when there was any color at all. “Nothing too bright.”

“Well dear, I hate to be the bearer of bad news…” she smiled with a raised eyebrow, continuing her measurements. “But it seems as though you don’t take much joy in expressing yourself through your outfit. Though I suppose if you had to wear clothing every single day it might get a bit…tedious. A very special outfit can’t be too special if one wears another outfit every day.”

“I have nice clothes.” I huffed, still not used to the sensation of magic floating over my skin. “I just don’t wear them except on special occasions.”

“Celebrations, holidays and the like?” she asked, and I nodded. She got an odd look on her face, like she was thinking of something… “Well, what if you wanted to catch the eye of somepony…special? Surely you don’t wear just any old outfit?”

I paused, looking at her with narrowed eyes. Was she thinking what I thought she was thinking?

She’s got the same idea as those nurses? I wondered. She was kind of firm about being nice to Pinkie before, that would explain some things.

“I…Look. Even if I was…” I sighed, scratching my head. “I’m not…I don’t do romance.”

She looked surprised at that, but she kept measuring away at my legs.

“Well…Not everypony is interested in such things. I just thought…” her face scrunched up a little, and the measuring tape crumpled in her magic. “…I don’t know what I thought but…oh dear. Are…oh, I’m so sorry if this sounds rude but…. are you quite sure?”

I don’t know what she wanted from me. I don’t know what compelled me, but it’d been a long time since I told anyone the story. Maybe I just stuck with what I’d told Pinkie about talking about things that were bothering me. Maybe I was…trying to convince myself. Remind myself of why this whole line of thinking was a bad idea.

“It’s not that I’ve…never been in…you know.” I said, not looking her in the eye. But the words kept spilling out. It really had been a long time. “I just…the last time it happened…things ended really badly.”

I still couldn’t look at her, but I could feel her looking at me.

“Do stand up, I need to get your waistline.” I did as I was told, and there was a beat of awkward silence. “I’m…not claiming to be an expert on matters of the heart. But I do consider you a friend. Any creature important to Pinkie Pie is important to me. So if you need somepony to talk to, I am always willing to listen.”

And I believed her. Hell, I wanted to believe her. I needed to let her, anybody, know why this whole…Pinkie situation was…whatever it couldn’t be. Whether we were the same or not.

“Her name was Claire.”



“We met in my second year of high school. I was…not that different back then, but different enough. I was…lonelier? I still wanted to reach out to people. She was…god, how do I even begin to describe Claire?”

“When I first met her I was sure I would hate her. She was likeable. She had tons of friends. She was pretty and athletic and smart…I thought she was the biggest pain. Just being near her was like…somebody had sucked all the air out of the room and I was drifting into space, alone while she was wearing the only helmet. I was sure she was going to be the biggest jerk I’d ever met. Then, she changed my mind.”

“How did she do that?” Rarity asked, almost under her breath.

“She talked to me.”



“Hey. You’re Charlotte, right?”

I looked up from my book, not really in the mood for conversation. Like I ever was. But there was Claire, talking to me like she knew me.

I nodded at her, not really finding my voice.

“Yeah, I knew I remembered. It’s like…Charlotte P…P something. I remember ‘cause we have the same initials. Claire Peterson, Charlotte…”

“…Petrou.”

“Yeah! That was it!” she laughed, and I was already getting annoyed. I was such an anti-social little brat back then. Well, worse than now. “It’s weird that we’ve never talked before.”

“We don’t exactly run in the same circles.” I told her, shrugging, already wondering when she’d go away. I looked around for her usual crowd. “Where’re your people anyway?”

“My people!” she laughed again. “You make it sound like I’m a different species.” She held up her arm to reveal a splint on her wrist. “Technically I can still run for track, but Coach said to take a break for a while. All my “people” are on the team so…here we are.”

“Lovely…” I sunk further into my book. “So, I’m kind of like your last resort, huh?”

“Ouch!” she grimaced, still being more or less friendly. “But yeah, you’re kind of right. Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off all “Pay attention to me!”, you know? But I really thought it was weird we’ve never talked. We have like…four classes together.”

Her sudden meekness was catching me off guard. This was Claire Peterson! Queen of the Amazons, a not-so-clever nickname that had spread around the school, based on the fact that all the girls in track were near or at six feet-ish. Claire stood a good six inches taller than me and it added to her unapproachable nature. But regardless, she was acting nothing like how I thought she would.

“So like…what’s good, Charlotte?” she was acting kind of…uncharacteristically awkward. “Is…Is that a good book?”

“It’s…okay, first.” I closed the book, smiling awkwardly at her. “Nobody calls me Charlotte. Well, my dad does, but he’s kind of a hardass. Just Lottie’s fine.” I handed the book gently to her, as not to agitate her wrist. “It’s a graphic novel.”

“Irmina…” she flipped through a few pages. “What’s it about?”

“Uh, well…” I thought about it for a moment before giving an explanation a go. “Irmina’s a German student in London just before WW2, and she meets a young, black guy Howard, he’s a student from Barbados studying at Oxford. They get close and she kind of falls for him before she has to go back home to Germany. By the time she realizes she wants to be with him and leave, some of his letters get returned to sender and she gives up. She finds herself powerless against the horrible things she sees, being a woman in war time Germany. She even marries an SS guy who dies in the war. Then, when she’s old, she gets invited out to Barbados by Howard, who married and had kids. He even named his daughter Irmina, and he’d been telling his family stories about Irmina for years. How she was brave and stood up for him when folks were being racist back in London. And it breaks her heart because everyone calls her “Brave Irmina” and she keeps thinking about how she isn’t, every horrible thing she had to stand by for. And then she just…flies back home.”

I kind of floundered, realizing I’d just talked so much about something she probably didn’t even care about, but she didn’t even bat an eye. She just nodded, looking at the artwork.

“Sounds cool.” She smiled. “If it weren’t so thick I’d read it now. I love the art. Makes it look like…like an old movie.”

I wasn’t the type to lend out my personal property, and I barely knew this girl. Maybe I wanted a reason to keep talking to someone. Or maybe I was excited that she really seemed interested in something I liked.

“You…uh you can borrow it. If you want. I mean-if you don’t I won’t-”

“Really?” she blinked. “That’s cool of you Lottie!”

We talked a little more, nothing in particular, and then…

“So, your dad’s a hardass?” she laughed. “I get that. My folks are so strict, sometimes I think my head’s gonna explode.”

“He’s…hard to explain. I could do everything right in the world, but my grades slip, and he loses his damn mind.”

“What’s bringing down your average?” she grimaced. “Is it English? I suck at writing papers.”

“No, I’m fine in those kinds of classes. It’s math and science types that kick my butt.”

“Oh, dude!” she seemed excited. “If you’re any good at history, I used to tutor in middle school. We could like, tutor each other!”

How did this casual chat with my biggest annoyance turn into a nice conversation with an honestly nice girl? Tutoring would mean seeing each other around a lot, and maybe lending more books. Was I up for that much exposure?

I must have looked hesitant because she suddenly backed off.

“Hey, I get it.” She sighed. “I didn’t mean to be so chummy all of the sudden. I just-”

“S’fine.” I muttered. I tapped the cover of the book. “I’m…getting a B in history.”

And that was just the start.



I was over at her house more and more often. Her parents worked as much as mine, but I’d never really gone over to people’s houses much, so we studied at her place. When her wrist healed she had practice more often, but somehow, she always made time for me and our tutoring sessions. Even when it clashed with him.

“Claire, I thought you were gonna go to Jim’s with me.” I heard him from down the hallway. “This is the second time you’ve cancelled on me.”

“Sorry Danny, I got another tutoring session.” She sounded apologetic. “If I bail on these, my grade’s will drop, and Coach will put me on academic probation.”

“…Fine. Just call me later, okay?”

“If I remember!” she called to him, running to my end of the hallway. She stopped at my locker, smiling at me.

“We don’t tutor each other through a program. How could they punish you for skipping?” I asked her, half-suspicious.

“Oh, that was just an excuse.” She rolled her eyes. “Danny always tries to drag me to stupid parties, like I don’t care if I get messed up in the middle of the season. He’s such a pain sometimes.”

I didn’t really know Danny then. He was just some guy, he played on the football team, but he was kind of skeezy. Always being a real dude-bro, dude-broing it up. Talking loudly in the halls about girls and the things they’d do to them, that kind of skeezy.

“Why do you even go out with that guy?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“He’s…not as bad as he seems, I guess.” She sounded confused about it too. “All my friends date guys on the team and it just sort of…happened.”

I took her word for it.

I wish I’d asked more questions back then.



We started hanging out more often, even over the summer. Especially during the summer. It seemed like she didn’t want to be by herself, so I chalked it up to something going on at home. That was the summer she broke her arm, and she was bummed about having a cast for most of her vacation. But we actually got close because of it. I helped her out and…took care of her in little ways.

One summer evening, we were at her house, and her parents were out at a family member’s Navy graduation or something down south. We had a few days to just hang out, no studying, no Danny, no families. Just us. I had a real friend for the first time since I was a kid.

She kept getting texts from her friends who were on a trip, some beach vacation she had to skip out on because of her arm.

“They sure look like…they’re having fun.” I shrugged, not really getting teen party culture.

“It’s fun, every once in a while.” She shrugged back. “Just…getting a little tipsy, not super wasted like my very classy friends.” She sat up from her bed, an idea clearly forming.

“Lottie!” she laughed. “We’ve never had stereotypical teen fun together before! Cheap booze and crying about our teen angst, the works! You haven’t lived until you’ve played Drunk Mario Party!”

She got some aforementioned “cheap booze” from the kitchen and…I didn’t intend to drink as much as I did, but Claire was much more drunk than I was. And I will admit, Drunk Mario Party was pretty fun. But then…things started to change.

“Ugh!! My friends are the woooorrsssst!!” she shouted, and I laughed at her. “I don’t even like the beach! But that’s the vacation they wanted, so oops! Claire can’t come! Claire didn’t even wanna go to the dumb, hot, sandy beach!”

She was a drunk complainer. I guess because she never complained about anything sober so it all just came spilling out.

“And Danny!!” she scowled. “He won’t stop calling me! Claire, where are you? Claire, come to my Uncle’s vacation house! Claire, stop being such a bitch!! I hate him sooo much!”

“Hey…Hey w-why do you date that prick?” I gasped. “Oh, sorry! I promised myself I wouldn’t talk crap about him in front of you! I’m…I’m a bad friend!”

“No Lottie!! No no, shhh…” she drunk girl hugged me, patting my head with her good arm. “He is a prick! I just…I just gotta be normal, for my parents. Gotta get good grades, gotta get to state, gotta be their perfect little showpony! Gotta date some asshole I don’t even…”

She looked really serious for a second, then she dramatically whispered to me.

“Lottie, can I tell you a big secret?” she asked, right in my ear. I got flustered but said yes, wondering if drunk Claire was always so…huggy. She laughed quietly to herself, leaning in even closer.

“I’m so…so gay.” She giggled, falling back on her bed, laughing like a madwoman. “I’m the gayest girl that ever gayed!!” she shouted to the empty house.

“What??” drunk me was very confused. “But…I thought you and Danny like…did stuff?”

“Oh, it was the worst.” She sighed. “He wouldn’t stop asking no matter what I told him. I needed to be some guy’s girlfriend so I…took one for the team, ya know? He’s not getting’ in my pants ever again, but now no one can say “Hey, you think Claire’s a big ol’ lesbian??” without some evidence. They can’t catch me!!”

“Would it be bad? If people found out?” I asked. Her friends were…a little flaky to be honest, but they didn’t seem like the types to stop hanging out with her for not being straight.

“Yes!” she shouted, annoyed. “If my friends found out, they’d eventually tell their boyfriends, and their boyfriends would tell Danny and Danny would tell his parents! His parents and my parents know each other! If my parents found out…”

She got deathly serious.

“Lottie, if my parents found out…they’re super…conventional. They support those…those conversion camps. They’d send me off and I…I don’t think I could handle it…One of my cousins got caught kissing his boyfriend…and his parents just…and mine were so into the idea…like “Good thing our Claire isn’t anything like that little freak.” I don’t…I can’t…”

I hugged her, suddenly scared for her.

“I won’t tell. I promise.” I was never gonna let that happen to her.

“Lottie!!” she squeezed the heck out of me, crying a little. “You’re just…the best!! You’re my best friend!”

“I am?” I knew we were getting closer but neither of us had been so “normal friend-making” about it.

“Oh, hell yes!” she laughed. “And I promise we’ll still be best friends when I sober up. But you’re just so…cool, ya know?”

“Ookay, now I know you’re too drunk.” I smirked. “I’m nowhere near cool.”

“No, I mean it!” she hugged me again. “You got such cool hobbies and you like me for me! Not who I have to pretend to be. And nobody else comes to my track meets, not my folks, not Danny, and I didn’t even ask you to come!”

“You worked really hard!” I told her. “I wanted to be there for you. Cheer you on!”

“And that’s so nice!” she insisted. Then, she broke out in a big, weird grin. “Although…maybe you just wanted to see me runnin’ in my shorty shorts?”

“Whoa there, are you flirty drunk now?” I laughed.

“Well, what about you?” she asked, sitting cross-legged and waiting. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah. Which way do you swing?” she was seriously wanting to know. “Do you even swing any direction at all? Cause if not, that’s fine too. You never talk about liking anyone.”

“I…I don’t really know.” I shrugged. “I never hang out with anybody to…get a sense for these things. I never wanted to…do anything with anybody. And I don’t really get it when people talk about how “hot” someone is. But…”

She was waiting for me to keep talking.

“When I was like…ten? There was this girl…Jenny. Some stupid kid broke her glasses and I got into it with him when we were like…seven? Eight? And right before she moved away, she told me that she had a huge crush on me for sticking up for her and…she kissed me. I barely knew her, but she kissed me and left me all stupid-brained, slack-jawed and everything. And when I thought about it later I…had regrets? Like I wish I knew earlier so we could have…I don’t know, held hands? Whatever ten-year-olds with crushes do. It never occurred to me that I might’ve been…gay? Or anything, really. But I think…”

I was trying to find the words, but I never really admitted this to anyone before.

“…I think I’m jealous. When I see girls in relationships with each other…It’s not the same when I see guys and girls together. And I don’t think about it in terms of…being “attracted” to certain physical stuff. But…girls are pretty? I’m pretty sure of that.”

“That’s so cute!” She hugged me again, and suddenly a hug from her wasn’t so comfortable as it was ten minutes ago. Not because of her, but…

Had she always been so…pretty? She had long eyelashes and dustings of freckles all along her arms and shoulders on her pale, sun-soaked skin. Had her eyes always been so kind?

“You’ll be a great girlfriend, just look at you!” she put her hands on my shoulders. “Your hair is so fun and curly and half the time I just want to play with it for hours! And you have such pretty eyes! Like amber fossils. And you’re so short and cute!”

“I’m not cute!” I pouted. When she laughed, I got my two cents in. “What about you, you’re like, so pretty! You’re tall and you have nice muscles from track, and your hair is so soft! And you’re so nice! I was such a brat when we met, but you kept trying to be my friend. And you’re my best friend too! I love having you around!”

She smiled, just…looking at me. Then she took my hands in hers and sighed, happy.

“Hey Lottie?”

The soft tone of her voice made my shoulders clench. My brain was going numb.

“Yeah?”

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Warning sirens in my brain now. Is this right? Do I even like girls?

“Yes.”

And she kissed me. And I just melted.

I definitely like girls. At least this one.



Rarity was looking at me with shimmering eyes, and I got embarrassed. That was some world-class oversharing.

“That was so sweet.” She sighed. “This was the relationship that ended badly? How could something so innocent turn out badly?”

“Oh, it takes a turn alright…” I sighed, drooping a bit. I never liked remembering the bad with the good.



Claire and I dated in secret for about two years. When she wanted to get away from her parents, Danny, even her friends sometimes, she had a study session with me suddenly come up. We got a lot of time together whenever tests and exams rolled around. And we actually did study sometimes, both of our grades were where they needed to be. I certainly needed the help. But when we were together, just the two of us, it was nice. Not having to think about anything other than how we felt about each other. She still kept up appearances with Danny, but true to her word, she never gave him any of the physical benefits of dating, and he was happy enough to just have bragging rights to say he was. Plus, she was pretty sure he had a girl on the side. “Better her than me, not like I can claim the moral high ground here.”

And things were good, for those two years. Claire even convinced me to go to school dances and such, and while Danny was her “date”, he had more fun with his friends and Claire had more fun with me. Her friends thought it was a little weird that she was spending so much time with someone like me, quiet and not popular at all, but they chalked it up to Claire just being a really nice girl who didn’t care about that stuff.

But things got bad suddenly, right at the beginning of senior year.



Claire called me in the middle of the night, asking me to come over. Her voice sounded scared, and she wasn’t the type to try and sneak out or convince other people to. Neither was I for that matter but sneak out I did.

When I got to her house, her parents’ cars weren’t in the driveway like usual, but all the lights were on.

And then, when she answered the door, my heart broke.

Her eyebrow was split, not too bad but it just kept bleeding, and she had obviously been crying. She was holding the wrist that had been broken before tenderly, and my mind was racing.

She brought me in, sat me down, and started crying again.

“He never hits me in the face.” She told me, her voice breaking. “I can explain away anything because of track or just being clumsy, but nobody believes a girl with a black eye or a busted lip when she says it was just an accident.”

“…Danny? He…” I was getting angry, really angry. I had every reason in the world to hate that stupid asshole but hitting his “girlfriend” made him the worst, even if she wasn’t my girlfriend, it was still scummy. “He hit you?”

Then everything fell into place. The wrist injury, the broken arm, how she was always tender and a little bruised from “practice”, but never where clothes couldn't cover. I felt so stupid for never putting the pieces together before.

“He’s been hurting you!” I shouted, not meaning to scare her. I tried to simmer down. But my blood was boiling. “Why…why didn’t you tell me?”

“I…I needed him.” She sobbed. “The first time was…an accident, or he tried to convince me it was. My wrist didn’t actually get broken so I just…took him at his word. Then, whenever I talked to him, I joked and teased him about stuff, didn’t mean anything by it. Sometimes blew him off just to…not be his girlfriend for a little bit. But then the next time he got me alone, he would… “teach me not to embarrass him in front of his friends”. I…actually tried to break up with him, that summer…”

“Your arm…” I said, remembering the cast she wore. He had signed it.

“He said if anything, he was gonna dump me when he got bored of me…but no “stupid whore” was gonna make him look like a loser in front of the whole school. I did my best not to be alone with him after that summer, but he always finds me, keeps me in line…”

It took everything I had not to run out of the house and go kick Danny’s ass. But she needed me. I got some first aid stuff from her parents’ bathroom and helped clean up her head wound.

“I can find a way to deal with this…Lottie.” She put her hand on my cheek gently, grazing it tenderly with her thumb. “You have to promise me you won’t let on that you know. Please. I’m gonna skip tomorrow and go to the clinic for some stitches, but you have to promise me, please…let me handle this.”

I didn’t want to agree. I wanted to tell that asshole to never touch her again. But I knew she would be okay until I could help her figure out what to do. I would make sure of it.

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She smiled, kissing me. How could anyone hurt this wonderful, kind girl? How could you do something so horrible to the nicest, most beautiful person in the world?



The next morning, it was the beginning of the end.



Danny caught me in the hallway after lunch, texting Claire.

“Oh, hey. You’re her little pet project, huh?” he looked at me indifferently as I shoved my phone back in my pocket. “You seen her today?”

I didn’t answer, but I couldn’t hide how I was feeling either.

“Oh, okay.” He rolled his eyes. “Guess you have. She knows better than to tell anyone about our little fights. But I guess she figures a freak like you won’t have anyone to tell anyway.”

I tried to keep calm, just walk away. But he grabbed the sleeve of my jacket.

“She’s not answering my texts so…I don’t know, tell her I’ll make it up to her. Something nice. And after I can give her something she’ll really like.”

I closed my eyes, praying for him to just stop talking. Let me just walk away. But as I tugged my sleeve again, he just yanked it back harder. Some students were stopping to watch.

“Hey, you gonna at least look at me while I’m talking to you?” he just sounded annoyed, like I wasn’t even worth getting angry at. “Hey, don’t be like that…tell you what.”

He tugged me closer, and I was shaking with anger now, which he must have interpreted as just fear.

“You could always…give her a break, you know?” he smiled, like he was the most irresistible man in the world. “Claire doesn’t have to know. You’re pretty easy on the eyes, for a weird little brown chick. Bet you’ve never been with a guy like me. Or anybody, for that matter.”

He laughed, still trying to be charming.

“Tell me, am I gonna be the one to pop your-”

And I slugged him.

He laid sprawled out in front of the row of lockers, dazed.

“Motherfucker!!!” I shouted, my hands shaking. “As if I’d want anything to do with a two-pump-chump with a pencil dick like you!!”

His eyes got angry, but before he could open his mouth, I just kept running mine.

“You think you’re hot shit, you thick-headed piece of fucking trash!! But you’re nothing but an abusive, fucking moron and I sincerely hope you fuck off and die!!

He jumped up, and my adrenaline must’ve been pumping because I somehow dodged his first swing and slammed my fist into his face. His nose crunched under my fist and he stumbled, blood pouring down his face.

I didn’t get so lucky after that. He got in too many good hits and I got in less. But I was too angry to stop fighting.

“I fucking knew it!” he rasped, out of breath and speech warbled from the blood. “I knew she was fucking somebody, but this takes the fucking cake!!” He slammed my head back to the floor and I could hear the heavy footfalls of security running down the hall. “You’re a dead bitch, you fucking c*nt!”

School security pulled us apart, but the damage was already done. I threw the first punch, in front of a crowd no less, so there was no out for me. I broke my promise to Claire, and I debated telling them about how he was hurting her, but I figured I had enough time to sort things out before I broke my promise even further.

I was so wrong.

I should’ve just walked away.



In the time it took my mom to come and collect me, to start my suspension, and to get settled in at home, Claire wasn’t answering her phone. I thought that maybe she knew I broke my promise, that she needed time to cool down and I’d try to call her again in the morning.

I should’ve gone to her. Protected her. Her parents still weren’t home.

He got to her first.



He was angry. About getting suspended, about not being able to play in any games, about his “girlfriend” being a lesbian and ratting him out to me. I’d like to think he never meant to hurt her as bad as he meant to, but not because I think he was secretly a good person. Because I thought he might’ve actually cared about her enough not to beat her that bad. Because he was already outed as a “bully” to the school and didn’t need anything else working against him.

Goes to show how well I knew him.

Word got out that Claire was gay, and her parents didn’t ship her off to a conversion camp, to their credit, but they did ship her off across the country to get her away from Danny. And from me.

She was alone, and scared, and hurting. And she just didn’t want to get beat on anymore. She didn’t want to have to be a victim for one second longer. She was already being forced to move away. I guess she thought that I was just going to cause her more pain.



“She broke up with me, right there in the hospital. And I was already a messed-up kid. I thought my life was over, and I felt so guilty for getting her hurt. I was heartbroken and miserable and alone. I convinced myself that if I wasn’t around, she’d forgive me…She’d be happy.”

Rarity looked at me, distress plain on her face. She stopped measuring. And I looked away.

“Right after she left, I tried to…stop…being around?” I frowned, not wanting to spell it out. But she understood, launching herself up at me, hugging me tight. Not as tight as a Pinkie hug, but still full of warm affection. Maybe it was a pony thing.

“Oh! Oh you poor creature! You poor dear!” her voice was breaking. I sighed, patting her on the back.

“I’m fine.” I told her. “But I wasn’t much for dating before her, and I don’t see myself doing it now. Long story short, that’s why I don’t do romance.”

“B-But that’s awful!” she sniffed, wiping at her eyes gently as not to smear her mascara. “You got your heart broken and now you’re resigned to a life alone? It’s…It’s not fair!”

“Maybe, maybe not.” I shrugged, already having heard this all before. “But I can’t change what happened.”

I was considered a lot of things my senior year. The person who ruined Danny’s life, the person who ruined Claire’s life, the girl who’d tried to kill herself, the girl who’d cost our football team it’s star kicker, the one who was a psycho who would get into fights with anyone who brought it up. I didn’t get into so many fights as much as I threatened to, and people who’d seen Danny and I fight knew I was good to my word. I did get beat up a few more times senior year, mostly by Danny’s friends and kids who weren’t a fan of my now very public sexuality. But I managed to get through it. I managed to survive and graduate and never talk to anyone I went to high school with ever again, save for Stacy.

Stacy was one of Claire’s friends. And at first, she was crappy to me too, maybe because she thought I’d ruined her friend’s life, maybe because she didn’t notice Claire was getting beaten either and took her frustration out on me. But once we met outside of the school system, she realized that Claire and I had really been together, and she apologized to me for taking out her personal stuff on me.

Rarity sighed, looking at me very directly, reminding me that she was probably the older one in the room, and I needed to hear some hard truths.

“Charlotte, darling…” her eyes softened. “the heartbreak you went through…I’m so sorry. But it’s never too late to find new love.”

This advice couldn’t just be because of what she thought about Pinkie and me. She put a hoof on my knee.

“You have to let yourself be happy, even if you’re afraid of what might happen…Don’t be afraid to open yourself up to something wonderful, no matter how you find it.”

I thought about this whole…Pinkie situation. Mere hours ago, this wasn’t even a problem. But these ponies were getting to me.

It’s not like I wasn’t grateful for Pinkie, or how she made me less worried and afraid in this crazy, magic world. Even her attempts to make me happy never seemed to fail. And she was one of the only things about this world I actually looked forward to. And she was so nice to me, and seeing her offering her friendship made me want to be worthy of that friendship. And her hugs were just what I needed when I was worrying about everything going wrong…and her baking was spectacular…and…and…

But I…but she…

She saw my stubborn posture and uncomfortable frown for what it was, maybe, and smiled at me.

“Now, if you’ve had enough of my thoughts on the subject, let us finish up this session and I can get to work on your essentials, shall we?”

I sighed, agreeing. If anything, I think I only strengthened her resolve. She wanted “the best” for Pinkie and me even more now. These stubborn ponies were gonna be the death of me.



Sweet Wheat knew her bedtime was coming up fast, but her bedroom no longer felt like the safest place in the world to her. She was embarrassed about waking up the past few nights, and clinging to her mothers, begging to let her sleep in their bed to feel some sense of safety again. But scared Sweet Wheat didn’t think about the embarrassment like before-bedtime Sweet Wheat did.

She’d heard her mothers talking out in the hallway, and she wondered what was keeping them. Not that she’d complain about a few more minutes of peace.

“Hey there Sweetie.” Her mother soothed her, running a hoof over her mane. “I have something to tell you, but you have to promise to trust what I’m saying okay? I would never lie to you.”

“Okay…” she couldn’t tell where this was headed, but her mother’s tone was convincing enough. She settled into bed and Power Chord sat on the end, like she would for bedtime stories when Sweet Wheat was smaller.

“I know you’ve been scared ever since you heard about what Roseluck saw.” Sweet Wheat averted her eyes, still embarrassed by her behavior. She’d woken her little sister every time, to her shame. “But I got some news today that might make you feel better.”

“Did they catch it!?” she shouted, sitting up straight in her bed. “Is the monster gone!?”

“Sweetie...no, but-” she saw her daughter deflate and got her attention again, a hoof under her chin. “Mrs. Cake told me that Princess Twilight and her friends found her. And she’s not a monster. She’s just a creature far from home. Pinkie Pie is good friends with her now.”

Sweet Wheat was having trouble believing what she was hearing. The monster that had woken her up and crept in her thoughts…was just some creature?

“But…why’d she scare Miss Roseluck?” she almost argued.

“Oh, you know how much of a scaredy-pony Roseluck can be.” Her mother snorted, rolling her eyes. “She just ran into her out in those woods and reacted badly to a creature she’d never seen before. Mrs. Cake swore to me that she never meant to scare anypony.”

“So…there’s no monster…” Sweet Wheat found herself feeling…surprisingly better. The fear and light panic that had followed her for days, the squirmy feeling in her guts that gave her the shivers, all of it was fading fast. “Princess Twilight is sure? She’s really, really sure?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “She’s keeping to herself right now, but the Princess is working on sending her home. But she’s really not here to hurt or scare anypony.”

Sweet Wheat fell back onto her bed with an exhausted sigh, still a bit tense but hoping that a peaceful sleep was waiting for her soon.

“Do you feel better?” her mother asked, and Sweet Wheat was relieved to tell her that yes, she actually did feel better.

Her mother kissed her on the forehead, tucking her in and turning out the light.

“Sweet dreams, Sweetie.” She whispered gently, closing her bedroom door. Sweet Wheat snuggled into her thick, plush comforter, sighing with relief.

I’m glad there’s no monster. She thought as she drifted off. Just some creature who never meant to scare anypony.

I can’t wait to tell my friends all about this.

Author's Note:

there you have it! did you enjoy teen angst time? hopefully this will help Lottie deal with everything she's...worried about. the profanity warning kicks in again, hard. angry teens like to swear, what can i say?

...i felt the need to censor the c word, it was unpleasant enough to write, but if you've ever heard a teen boy call a girl it in real life you know how unpleasant it is, fitting for Danny. tbh i felt really gross writing everything that comes out of that boys mouth. and i don't know enough about law to say what his punishment would have been, but he got something, i assure you.

and this chapter connects to the dream events of the chapter "The Nightmare", so go reread that if you need a refresher on what happened after Lottie and Claire broke up.

i don't usually write "teen romance" so forgive me if it's a little clunky. but this is written by someone who is, without revealing too much, not straight so don't @ me about unrealistic gay representation. im trying my best, lol. plus i can't imagine you got this far into FT without being supportive of it's lesbian main character so, ya know, take that for what you will.

you'll notice some subtleties to Claire, like how she started talking to Lottie, maybe to avoid having no excuse for not seeing Danny, and it turned into a relationship? was she really going to deal with the whole Danny situation, or was she just putting it off until there was no other option?

Rarity is undoubtedly going to have some questions about human romance, and the awkward topic of "what's a conversion camp?" and I DO have some pony relationship/ "sexuality" headcanons that don't really have a place in the "lore" of this story, but maybe i'll make a blog post about it.

also, goes without saying, but teen dating violence is a big fucking deal.

  • loveisrespect: Call 1-866-331-9474, chat at loveisrespect.org or text “loveis” to 22522, any time, 24/7/365.

oh, Sweet Wheat, you mean well.

Lottie's getting some clothes! huzzah!

i'm off for the summer so chapters should hopefully be more frequent now. i had a heck of a time with finals. but my grades reflect my effort.

Irmina is a very good graphic novel, and i wasn't originally planning on describing it so much, but i think it's got some subtle parallels to Lottie and Claire, "unconventional" love and regrets of the past, idk, whatevs. definitely go read it if you can get a copy.