Your Own Worst Enemy

by Distaff Pope

15. All Our Yesterdays

Finding him wasn’t that hard, actually. Like, compared to my last few months, it was barely a challenge. It was just boring. Walk around town for a few hours, stake out a busy location for a few hours, and repeat it until your brain wanted run out your ears to do something interesting.

The only little diversions were when we had to support Scootaloo and Roller, and that wasn’t often. We were at the finish line when they did their heats (they qualified) and we spent the evenings with them doing dinner stuff (where we made sure to sit outside), but the rest of our time was free for amateur investigating.

“This town isn’t that big,” I said, thunking my head down on the stupid cafe table where we were doing our latest stakeout. “He’s not a ghost, he shouldn’t know we’re looking for him, and we haven’t been that obvious, so where ishe?” I pointed at another purple pony walking by. “We’ve seen her five times since I got here. Once at the lake, a few more times at the market, yesterday at dinner, and now, but him? Not a single clue.” Seriously, if it wasn’t for his dreams, I’d be completely lost.

Luna knew, of course. She figured out the broad strokes of my plan the moment she learned I was going to Hoofington. She knew I knew my dad was in Hoofington, and she knew I’d be crazy not to go looking for him. Uhmm… I’d be a different type of crazy, I guess. She also wasn’t telling my mom what I knew. As far as Mom knew, I was just being a good marefriend and supporting Scootaloo. Like, she wasn’t going to ban me from going to Hoofington for completely innocent reasons if she thought I didn’t know, and apparently Twilight hadn’t told her she’d told me.

“Well, maybe we should try something different,” Page said, looking down at where I rested my head. I sat up so I didn’t make too much of a scene.

“Yeah, and what do you suggest?” I asked, keeping my voice low so we didn’t get any looks. “Just start knocking on doors? Because that’s what you told me not to do. What do they do in those detective books you read?”

“Oh, well, they usually interview witnesses, search the scene for clues, you know, the usual,” she said, frowning.

“And we can’t do any of those things,” I said, taking a sip of my cranberry juice. “Because this isn’t a stupid book, we aren’t trying to solve a crime, and we’re trying to find somepony by basically dumb luck.”

“Books aren’t stupid,” Page said, ears going flat. “They’re just… Maybe they don’t tell you everything you need to know on how to do a job. And maybe being a private investigator’s a little harder than we thought.”

I groaned and rolled my head back, staring at the ceiling. “And we can’t hire an investigator because Hoofington doesn’t have one.” We’d learned that lesson our second day in town. We thought they might have had some tips for us. Maybe they would’ve if they existed, but they didn’t, so they didn’t.

“So… should we just go and ask somepony where your father is?” she asked.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re right, I still don’t think that’s a great idea, but…” I rubbed my forehead. “We still have a few days until the race, so… I don’t know, let’s give looking another day, and then we’ll start asking around. Alright?”

“Alright,” she said, nodding her head and eating the last bite of the salad she’d spent the last few hours chipping away at. “But… do you think we could spend some time looking for him at a movie theater this afternoon?”

“I guess,” I said, grabbing my cranberry juice with my magic. “But I don’t know if we could see him in the dark, and…” I blinked. Right, she was being coy. “You’re saying you want to see a movie, aren’t you?”

“If that’s okay,” she said. I waved my hoof for the waiter. “Obviously, I get it if you don’t, but the film adaptation for Hinny of the Hills came out, and I thought…” I stared at her. “Or we could see something that isn’t a musical.”

“It’s fine,” I said before looking at the waiter. “Could we get our check please?” He nodded and I waited for him to leave before continuing our talk. “I didn’t have anything to do with that one. Actually, the only thing I can remember about it is one of Bright Lights’ friends lecturing me about how it was commercial product instead of art, soulless and written for mass appeal.” And I’d just insulted the film Page Turner wanted to see. Whoops. “But… I’m sure he didn’t know what he was talking about, he was just the Bridleway critic for Manehattan Magazine, so…” Great, so that was one of the few things I could remember, a review of Hinny of the Hills. Good to know my drug-addled brain knew what the important memories were. “But I know my mom really liked it, and I’d rather listen to her recommendation than his.” And I’d saved it. Go me.

“If you don’t want to go, that’s completely fine,” she said as the waiter trotted back with the bill. Had I been talking for that long or was he that fast? “I just thought it could be fun, and Roller and I can go see it after the race if you don’t want to.”

“But I do,” I said, smiling at her. “I just kind of let my mouth get ahead of my brain for a bit. You… probably noticed I do that a lot.” She didn’t say anything, splitting the difference between lying and being rude. “Anyways, it sounds fun. They’re playing it here, right?”

She nodded as I grabbed the check from the waiter with my magic. “I checked the schedule the third time we walked passed the theater. They have a showing in an hour or so.”

“Alright,” I said, looking at the check and counting out my bits. “Can we stop by my cabin really fast, first? I want to freshen up before we go.”

“You’re the boss,” she said, getting up on her hooves. That was true, wasn’t it? What could I get her to– I immediately killed the thought. She wasn’t Scootaloo, that wasn’t how we worked.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” I said, following her up onto my hooves. Not that Scootaloo was being that much better at the moment, it was the same as it ever was, with the added restraint of me not wanting to humiliate her before the race, so I was just redoing the biggest hits. Silk saddle, magic, feather play, blah blah blah, boring stuff. Sure, I could tie her up and watch her squirm, and that was nice, but… it wasn’t art. And more importantly, it wasn’t going to change her. Just repeating a bunch of failures.

“Think of it as a challenge,” Page said next to me. I raised an eyebrow and pulsed my horn. Hallucination. Thought so. “Do something exciting and daring and bold with what’s worked before. Reimagine it.”

I sighed. Could it just be normal? For even a day? That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? One day. One day, it’d work out, but until then, we did our games. Maybe I could get her good in front of Apple Bloom or– I was seeing Apple Bloom again. Like, this time next week, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were going to be reunited for the first time in years.

Did I do something to her? We were best friends three years ago, but she hadn’t even bothered to write a letter since I woke up. I caught the fragmented flashbulb of a memory. Stumbling towards a mare and saying something about how strong she looked and… “I bet you could do things I can’t even imagine,” I said in the memory.

Nope. That… I shook my head. Maybe it wasn’t real? That would be nice, right? Another figment of my imagination. Better than me coming on to one of my best friends.

We could get to that later. Right now, I had a Scootaissue to sort out. Apple Bloom wasn’t until next week. “Do you have any idea how I can take my relationship with Scootaloo to the next level?” I asked, looking at Page. Maybe she had an idea?

She blinked and stared at me. “Excuse me?” When was the last time I’d spoken? How long had we been walking? Had she been saying things while I was in my head? Was I still in my head? A quick pulse of magic answered the last question, at least. “That’s… what do you mean, ‘next level’? Because I think you’ve gone through any level I could ever imagine.”

“I just… I need to keep topping myself, keep coming up with better and better games for her to play so she’s happy, and I’m having trouble thinking of the next one. She doesn’t want me to do anything to humiliate her in public while we’re here, and that usually gets the best results, so… I’m feeling a little handicapped while we’re in Hoofington.” Okay, not true, I needed to keep topping myself. It was the only way both of us could be happy.

“Well, what’s wrong with the regular stuff?” Page asked, trotting closer and dropping her voice. Prude. I looked around. We’d gone at least a couple of blocks while I was off in Sweetie-land.

Nothing. Nothing was wrong with regular stuff. Well, it was a bit boring, and there was the other tiny issue that Scootaloo didn’t want to have it! Not with me, at least. “Nothing,” I said, smiling. “It’s just not what she wants, and I kind of enjoy the kinky stuff, too, it’s just… Constantly having to top yourself gets kind of exhausting after a while.” I laughed. “Still, I gotta keep doing it.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. I looked away long enough to roll my eyes. Of course I was sure, I knew more about our relationship than Page, didn’t I?

“Yeah, I’m sure. So… I’m guessing that means you don’t have any ideas?” I asked, sighing. Why had I even bothered? She and Roller were probably into the boring vanilla – no, not vanilla, that was an insult to vanilla – stallion sex. The most mundane drudgery I could imagine, and why did Scootaloo want that over me? She didn’t need all the crazy with Rusty, did she?

I shook my head as the hotel approached. Where had that thought come from? Of course, she preferred me. I gave her the benefit of years of experience – and she’ll never appreciate it – how could she not enjoy it? She enjoyed it, she kept wanting more, begging me to do more, to push farther, and every little whimper was her thanks. I gave her more than what she wanted, I gave her what she didn’t even know she wanted. We both liked it, it was fine. I was fine. We were fine. Are you okay?

“Sweetie, are you okay?” Page asked again. I blinked. We were standing outside my cabin and I was compulsively brushing my mane with my magic for… how long?

“Fine,” I said, smiling and unlocking the door.

“You don’t look–” I cracked the door open and an orange hoof threw it open the rest of the way.

“There you are!” Scootaloo shouted, looking quickly from me to Page Turner. “Where have you two been? Do you have any time how long I was here waiting for you?”

“We were out,” I said, rolling my eyes and shoving my way past her. “And what’s the big deal, why are you waiting in a hotel room instead of doing your practice?”

She ignored me and kept looking at Page and anger boiled in my chest, wanting to dissolve the thin barrier of Sweetie separating it from the world. Take that tone? With you? After everything you do to make her happy? I swirled around. She wanted to play at having power with me after I was going out of my way to be nice to her? Let’s see how that worked out for her. She was still staring at Page Turner and ignoring her marefriend. That part was the same at least.

“So...” Scootaloo started, rubbing the back of her head and hiding it from my glare. “Roller’s fine, but there was a little accident and he’s in the hospital right now, but the doctors think he should be good to go by morning. Not the first time they had to deal with a scooter crash.” I sighed and the anger faded away while a whole bunch of other emotions fought on Page’s face.

“He’s going to be alright?” she asked. Scootaloo nodded. “Is he going to be able to race?”

“Yeah,” Scootaloo said. “At least, that’s what they were saying when I left.”

“Take me to the hospital” she said, turning around and trotting back out the door. “Tell me everything on the way.”

“You got it,” Scootaloo said, trotting out the door and forcing me to follow after her. I shut it behind me and followed at the rear of our group with Scootaloo leading the way.

And that was it. I wasn’t going to find my father, because Roller had to do something stupid and get himself hurt. Today was gone, and Page was going to be too busy taking care of her coltfriend to go out patrolling with me… Not that I could blame her, but still. Either her or Scootaloo had to be watching over me at all times, and since I was a good, supportive marefriend, I wasn’t about to ask Scootaloo to stop practicing so I could work on a secret mission, so I’d just be stuck to Page and Roller like a third wheel, ticking down the hours until this whole disaster of a trip was over.

Scootaloo could still win her race. Yeah, but that wasn’t the point, that was just the hook. It would be nice, but I was here! I was in the same city with him. I glanced at the houses as we trotted past. He could be in any one of them, and I wouldn’t know because I’d either be in a hospital or a hotel, because that was my life now. A never-ending stream of not-homes for me to live in.

Where was home, anyways? The penthouse, I guess? I’d lived there the longest and it had all my stuff, but I was going to be moving sooner or later. Scootaloo didn’t want to live there, and… yeah, it would be nice to live somewhere without all that baggage. Maybe Mom’s castle counted? If I lived there for a few months, possibly.

I perked my ears up. Wait, were they still talking about how Roller got hurt, because… that might’ve been important. On the other hoof, it’s not like it really impacted me unless he happened to run over my father, and that probably wasn’t the case.

“And you won’t be staying in a hotel on your camping trip,” Mom said, suddenly appearing next to me. No, I’d be sleeping in a tent, which was like an even worse version of a hotel. Also, why the heck wasn’t she more concerned about me trying to find him?

“Because, Sweetie,” Mom said, sighing. “I’m not her. I don’t have access to all her thoughts and feelings. Her enmity for your father is not mine. Besides, there are more important things for us to discuss than him. Like your relationship with Scootaloo, for instance.”

I rolled my eyes but managed not to say anything. Were we really going to get back into this? Because–

“Even you admit it’s not working,” Mom said, interrupting my thought with another. “You’re driving yourself crazy to fix the impossible, and I hate seeing you do that to yourself. You deserve something that makes you happy..”

I pulsed my horn to send her away and looked around. When did we get inside? Why was I standing outside a hospital room? Had I really blanked out for that long? Scootaloo was standing next to me and looking into the hospital room, oblivious to how oblivious I was. “Are they doing alright?” I asked, smiling at her.

“Probably? He should still be able to race this Saturday, and nothing’s completely messed up, so…” He was doing better than me, then. “It could be a lot worse. Page is probably going to take some time to calm down, though. I know it took me a while when it was you.” Which time? The time she’d saved me or the time she ran me over?

“So, what do you want to do?” I asked. “I’m fine sitting in the hospital to be close to Page and Roller in case they need anything, but if you want to do something else, that’s fine, too.”

She frowned. “Well, I still kind of want to practice. There’s a lot of daylight left, and if I wait until he’s out of the hospital, then I’ll only have tomorrow to practice.” Right, because you were supposed to take the day before a race off or something. I guess it was so you’d be kind of rested for it? Maybe it was just a Scootaloo thing.

“Alright,” I said, shrugging. “I’ll wait in the hospital with Page, then. I’ll have her or one of the nurses take me back to the cabin tonight.” She looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Scootaloo, it won’t be the worst thing if I have some nurse go with me. Or should I ask her to leave her coltfriend so she can trot over with me to our cabin? Like, I think I’m pretty safe in a hospital.”

Scootaloo didn’t seem completely convinced. I just stared at her. “Really?” I asked. “Okay, fine, I’ll stay with Page in a hospital all night. Better?”

“You know, I’m fine not practicing today. If you need me–” Need me to put my dreams on hold to take care of you again, I totally will.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, gritting my teeth. “You do what you want. This is your week, and spending a little more time in a hospital won’t kill me.” Something flickered across her face. Really? I still couldn’t use a stupid idiom around her without making her think about… “Just do what you want, I’ll be here.”

“You’re sure?” she asked. “Because it’stotally cool if–”

“Yes, I’m sure!” I shouted. “I’m absolutely completely sure about what I want to do.” I stopped and got my breath. Maybe be a little less snappy with Scootaloo, she was just doing her best. “Sorry, I’m fine, just… I’ll be fine sitting in the waiting room or whatever. If you’re really concerned, just ask…” I looked around the hallway for a medical professional and found a purple stallion in nurse garb standing at the end of the hallway and staring at me. Oh. “Just…” My voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Ask him to keep an eye on me.” Lots of medical ponies had hearts for cutie marks. Kind of obvious in hindsight, wasn’t it? A tiny giggle wanted to escape my throat but I choked it back.

Scootaloo looked from me to the stallion and back as the two of us just stared at each other. “Are you alright?”

“Never better,” I said, nodding. “Just… had a silly thought. An idea for after your big race.” I tried to give my best smirk. “It’s a really good one.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, looking back to the stallion standing still. Not running. Not backing away. Just standing and staring. “Uhmm, if you’re not too busy, could you keep an eye on my friend? Or if you’re too busy, do you know somepony else who isn’t?”

“Uhmm…” He opened his mouth and closed it. “No, I’m fine. That’s… Yes, I have time. My shift’s almost over, anyways, and besides your other friend, it’s been rather uneventful at the old Hoofington General.”

“Cool,” she said, still looking between us, sensing something was tilted but not quite getting it. She took a few steps away but didn’t leave. “Then, I guess I’ll be going. I’ll see you at the cabin tonight?”

I nodded, sparing her a glance and a hug and ignoring her usual tensing. “Yeah, I’ll tell you all about my day when I get back. It’s kind of interesting.”

“Alright,” she said, trotting away. “Yeah, can’t wait to hear about all the stuff you and Page have gotten up to while I was practicing.”

“And I can’t wait to hear about how your practicing’s been going,” I said, keeping one eye on her as she trotted away and my other eye on him. Finally, she was gone.

“So,” he said, rubbing the back of his head and suddenly having a hard time meeting my gaze. “Is there anything–”

“I know,” I said, turning back to give him my full attention. “Don’t bother playing dumb.”

He let out a sigh of relief. Why? “Yes, I suspected as much from the way you were looking at me – but then, the conscience has a way of playing tricks on you, doesn’t it? Anyways…” He frowned. “I don’t know how many nights I spent imagining this moment, trying to concoct some speech to explain myself, but now that it’s here, nothing I planned seems entirely adequate.”

“Ya think?” I said, flicking my ear. “Yeah, I guess it’d be hard facing…” The words got caught up and refused to budge. “Me. Anyways, let me hear it. Tell me how much you wish you could do it all over again or whatever.”

He looked around the hallway. “Sweetie – Sorry, do you mind if I call you Sweetie? – would you do me a great kindness and adjourn this conversation until we can move to somewhere a bit less public?” His eyes were soft, not a trace of command in them, and where did he get off being so nice and apologetic? Still, I could see why Mom liked him, he had a kind of sensitive intellectual vibe going on that was apparently her type. Not counting Applejack, I guess.

“Alright,” I said, trotting to Roller’s room. “Just let me tell my friend I’m leaving? She’s kind of supposed to be keeping an eye on me.”

There was a nod from him and I cracked the door open. “Hey, Page.” She and Roller stopped their conversation and looked at me. “I just wanted to let you know you’re done for the day, and….” I bit on my lower lip for a second. “I found him.”

“Wait, what?” she said, getting to her hooves and trotting over, glancing at the stallion on the other side of the hospital-room window. “Really? He’s here? That’s…” I nodded. “Are you sure you don’t need me?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, smiling at her. “If I found him, I was going to try and lose you anyways, so this kind of works out. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I waved a hoof at them and looked at Roller. “And I hope you feel better soon. I think Scootaloo’ll be disappointed if she wins the race but you aren’t there to compete.” I shrugged. “And… you know, obviously, I want you to feel better just so you feel better, it’s not like the only reason I want you to get better is because it’ll make Scootaloo happy.” I frowned. That might have been the worst well-wishing in the history of well-wishing. “Get well soon.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, waving a hoof at me. “And who’d you find?”

I smiled and stepped back to the exit. “Page can fill you in on that; it’s a great story, but I’ve got to get going.”

There was another quick exchange of pleasantries and then I shut the door, turning back to see he was still standing there. Again, he’d refused to run. “Alright,” I said, nodding my head. “Lead on.”

“Of course,” he said, trotting down the hallway with me following next to him. “I just need to speak with my supervisor first, if that’s all right.”

I nodded before realizing he couldn’t see me. “It’s fine,” I added to the silent gesture. “Let’s just hurry.”

♪♪♪

It just took a minute for him to request the rest of the day off, and his boss agreed, but I caught a look from the boss he missed. Stallion going off to spend time with a young mare? Rumors spread, and he’d probably have to reveal his own secret pretty soon, too. My sympathy for him overflowed.

“Alright,” he said as we walked down the streets of Hoofington towards some destination he had in mind. “So, I’m not sure how we should start our talk. There’s quite a bit for us to untangle.”

I laughed with only a smidge of joy. “No kidding, I didn’t even know you existed until a month or so ago, and I’ve been so busy dealing with the rest of my life and trying to track you down, I haven’t really thought about what I think about you, if that makes sense. Like, I thought I had a dad and he was distant and awful, but then it turns out he’s actually my grandfather, and I have another father who I don’t know anything about except that he ran away.” So only one for two, so far.

He rubbed the back of his head as he trotted in a reflexive gesture. Pretty good at walking with three hooves for a unicorn. “Yes, not exactly my proudest moment: fleeing from your mother in abject cowardice.”

“So is this where you say if you could do it all over again, you’d totally not abandon me?” I asked, snorting. “Because that’s really easy to say now.”

“It is remarkably easy to say, I’ll give you that, but it’s also not true.” What? He shook his head and gave a small pale smile. “I’m sorry, I know you probably wanted to hear the other thing, but I spent a lot of time thinking about it. Yes, my flight was cowardly and detestable, but at the same time, a great many things seem to have worked out for the better because of it.”

“Got it, so because things worked out great for you and you got a cozy life out of running away, you wouldn’t change it,” I said, rolling my eyes as we trotted. Were we heading back to the hotel?

“Partly, yes, my running brought two more lives into the world, lives which are very dear to me and that I’m loathe to consign so easily into oblivion.” Wow, for a nurse, he sure was flowery, maybe– Wait, had I really not asked him the most basic question yet?

“What’s your name?” I asked. “That seems like a good place to start.”

He blinked and took a misstep. “Oh, yes, I suppose it would. Sorry, I just assumed you already knew that.” He stopped and extended a hoof to me. “Purple Heart, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Sweetie Belle.”

I stared at his hoof. Just turn away. Why the heck should I shake his hoof? Just because he felt bad about what happened eighteen years ago? He wouldn’t even undo it if he could. Undo running away, not undo the other thing. On the other hoof, shaking his wasn’t forgiveness or anything. It was just politeness, and Mom did raise me to be that. I met his hoof with mine. “Don’t make this more than it is,” I said. “Now, you were talking about how you’d totally still abandon me if you could do it again?”

He winced. “I wouldn’t have used those exact words, I think, although I admit there’s still truth to them. Yes, beyond my own comfort, I think there are other perfectly valid reasons for my running away. Your mother, for starters, and her position as the Bearer of Generosity. When I knew her, she was one of the ponies least qualified for the position, if you’ll pardon my rudeness. While she had her charms, she also demanded the world revolve around her and could be rather… frightening when it didn’t.” There was a pause there as he imagined something. It wasn’t too hard to guess. “While I can’t speak definitively, I think there’s at least a chance that whatever change transpired in her after I left, might not have if I’d stayed.”

That was… “So you’re saying if you didn’t run away, Equestria would’ve been conquered by Nightmare Moon, Discord, the changelings, King Sombra, or Tirek,” I said, rattling the names off. “I don’t think Starlight Glimmer would have taken over Equestria, but I’m not sure.” Yeah, we were definitely trotting back to the hotel, why?

“All those…” he trailed off, finishing the thought in his head. The list of times my mom’d saved Equestria was pretty impressive when you put it down like that. “Anyways, I’m not going to make a claim that outlandish. We are dealing with hypotheticals here, and at the end of the day, I can’t say for sure what would have happened had I done the mature thing, but it does seem the scales are weighted towards ill. There’s only one ideal scenario and so many more bad ones.”

“None of this is to excuse my actions,” he quickly added. “What I did was wrong, and the justification of hindsight hardly excuses my affront, but…”

“You still wouldn’t undo it because of how well everything worked out,” I said, sighing. “Also, why the heck have we been talking about some dumb hypothetical for so long?”

“Because you asked me a hypothetical question that I happened to spend a great deal of time pondering independently,” he said like it was the most obvious question in the world – which, when he put it that way, it was. “Then, you asked me to clarify my position, so I clarified.”

“Okay, then,” I said, ‘hmming’ to myself in thought as we veered off from the hotel to trot towards the lake.

“Do you mind if we sit at Flowers Pond? Its view of the mountains never ceases to be an inspiration for me, although the cottages do undermine the effect somewhat,” he said.

“Hey, I’m staying in one of those cottages, but… yeah, the view is pretty. I’ve spent almost as much time looking up at those mountains as I spent looking for you,” I said, looking up at the looming mountains. “We don’t exactly have anything like them in Manehattan or Ponyville..”

“I’m aware,” he said, chuckling. “You know, I spent a bit of time in Manehattan in my youth as a part of my grand poetic wandering. I wanted to travel the breadth of Equestria and then cross the seas. Trot the roads of Roam, see the sights of Prairis, make my way to Neighpon. There are so many great cultural sites in the world, and I’m proud to say I visited most of them.” He was almost smiling about that. That wouldn’t do at all.

“So, you did all that after you left my mom to be a single mother, right?” I asked, bringing him back to the situation at hoof.

“Yes,” he said, finding a nice spot of grass with a good view of the mountains and their twin reflected in the lake. “I am sorry for leaving you and your mother. That was wrong of me and immature. However, I won’t apologize for living a life after that.”

“Fine,” I said, sitting down. “So after you left my Mom, you got to go on a nice world tour. Sounds way more fun than having to raise a daughter and build a business. And save the world.”

“You’re right, it probably was. On the other hoof, she gets to live in a castle, I don’t; she gets to be a princess, I don’t; she got to see you grow up, and I didn’t. Something tells me she wouldn’t trade our positions for all the bits in Equestria.” Yeah, that was probably true. Like, she basically got everything she wanted, and she wanted a lot. Something told me she wasn’t complaining.

There was silence as we both stared at the landscape, he stared at the mountains and I stared at their reflections in the lake. “They look almost real,” I said. “Like there’s a mirror world beneath the pond that we can’t get to. What do you think it’s like there?”

“Perhaps it’s a world where I stayed and Rarity and I smoothed out the rough edges of our relationship. Or maybe we never did and hated each other, only staying together for your sake. It’s hard to say. Maybe it’s exactly like our world but upside down and wetter,” he said. I kind of laughed at that last bit. It wasn’t funny, but I still laughed. “Sorry, the image of the mirror world’s always fascinated me. I think what we see reflected says more about us than what’s being reflected.”

What was wrong with me? A very good question. I’d come all this way, rearranged Scootaloo’s life to get what I wanted, to see him, and now that I was here, I wasn’t holding his hooves to the fire, I wasn’t demanding answers, I was just asking dumb hypotheticals and talking about mirrors. Why hadn’t I asked the important question?

You know why

I took a breath. Because when you asked questions, you got answers. “I get why you left, you were young and scared and maybe Mom was kind of scary back then – she can be kind of scary now when she’s upset, and I think she’s toning it down a lot, but she has her…”

“Her looks?” he finished. “Yes, they can be positively withering, can’t they? No yelling – I don’t think she ever yelled – she just spoke with absolute certainty and stared at me like she dared me to say no.” He paused and shook his head. “My apologies, Sweetie, I shouldn’t say such things about your mother, as it seems the mare I knew and the mare that raised you are two very distinct individuals.”

“It’s fine,” I said, waving a hoof and glancing at him. “Like, she does have her looks that really make you want to run for the hills.” I took a breath. Enough dancing around the issue. “Why didn’t you come back? Why didn’t you do something when you saw my name in all the papers? Why… You have a nice life here, why didn’t you want me to be a part of it? I don’t understand, you seem nice enough, so how could you see everything that happened to me and not do something?”

“What was I to do? March to Manehattan, knock on your doors and say ‘I apologize for my rudeness, Sweetie, but your entire life’s a lie, your sister is your mother, I’m your father, and I want you to come to Hoofington with me’? Yes, of course I wanted to do something, but I didn’t have the right to. You’d lived your entire life ignorant of my existence, not knowing the secret of your parentage; was I supposed to come in at your lowest moment with an unbelievable story? At best, you’d dismiss me as a lunatic looking to take advantage of you; at worst, I’d destroy the few shreds of normalcy you had left in your life.” There was a pause and I caught him rubbing a groove in the dirt with his hoof. “Yes, I had thoughts about coming up there, at times. It seemed a grand way to atone for my mistake. But I wasn’t about to act so carelessly for the sake of my ego.”

“Okay,” I said, taking a breath. Hard to argue with his response. He always seemed to have an answer, didn’t he? Still... “That makes sense. I get why you did everything, I think, so… I don’t know, you seem like you might be nice.” What else could I say? I wasn’t going to start calling him Dad just because I maybe kind of didn’t hate the stallion. On the other hoof, if he wanted to be part of my life…

“Praise from Celestia,” he said, almost smiling.

“Huh?” I asked, tilting my head.

“An old idiom,” he said, chuckling. “I forget most ponies didn’t spend their youth with a snout lodged firmly in the scrolls of antiquity. It means to be praised by somepony held in high esteem.”

My ear twitched as the sun entered my eyes and I raised a hoof to shield them. “Oh, so you were making fun of me,” I said.

He shook his head. “Not at all, I was… a touch hyperbolic, perhaps, but the praise was sincere. Of all the ways this meeting could have ended, being judged as ‘possibly nice’ is better than I could have dared dream. I imagined there being more screaming, profaning, and accusation.”

I shrugged and focused on the dirt in front of me instead of looking up. “I wasn’t really angry. Maybe I should be, but right now, I think all my hate’s tied up.” I almost giggled at the image of my hate bound and on a bed. “Like, I only learned you existed a month or two ago, and I already thought I had a dad, so… I don’t know. If I found out a few years ago, I probably would have been furious at you and Mom, but after this last season, I’m just not.”

A long pause followed. Oh, Celestia, I didn’t even know him back then, and he was still going to get awkward if I referenced all… that. Then again, he already sounded like he felt guilty about it. It must’ve run in the family, so between him and Mom, I was doomed from the start.

“So, what now?” he asked. “Is this our parting of the ways, or–”

“I don’t want it to be,” I said, not thinking it over. “I’d like to learn more about you, beyond just why you did what you did, and… maybe spend some more time with you before I leave for Ponyville?” I ran a hoof through my mane. What was I saying? He completely abandoned me, and now I was talking about getting to know him better? I had my answers, just go. “Ugh, sorry, that’s probably a really stupid idea.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” he said, shaking his head. “I… Like I said, I wouldn’t undo my decision, but I’d still like to make amends for my youthful cowardice. I know we’ll never be as close as we could’ve been, but I’d still like to try and mend that rift.” He frowned for a second.

I looked at him, studying the lines on his face. He seemed sincere enough. “Okay,” I said. “So… silly question, but what should I call you? Dad’s not going to happen, but Purple Heart doesn’t sound right either.”

There was a quick smile from him. “Ah, well, I’ve always been partial to Art or Artie. I never really cared much for my full name, too stiff for my tastes.” Hah, another thing he had in common with Mom. That probably didn’t play much of a part in them getting together, but it was still kind of… there? I don’t know, I liked my full name.

“Okay, Art… Artie…” I tasted the words, noted the way they shaped my lips. Another round. Artie it was. “Okay, Artie, so…” A stupid thought popped in my head. “This is probably crazy, but – your family; are you going to tell them about…” I trailed off and he nodded, understanding the words not said.

“I plan to,” he said, tilting his head. “It seems the only decent thing to do, although I’m not looking forward to talking with Silvy about it. There aren’t any easy ways to say you’ve been hiding a secret daughter for the last… almost two decades. Unless my math is terribly wrong, you have a birthday coming up soon, right?”

“Eighteen on the twenty-eighth,” I said, nodding my head. A sound caught my attention, and I looked up to see a family of ponies sitting on the other end of the lake and eating. A mom, a dad, and three foals all enjoying a late picnic. Weird to picnic on a Wednesday – but then, back in Ponyville, Mom and her friends used to have picnics and stuff all the time. How many of those old parks had been demolished for more housing, though? How far away had the meadows been pushed? Would I recognize it when I got back? I blinked. Artie was still talking.

“Could you say that again?” I asked, looking back at him and apologizing with a sheepish head shake. “I kind of went off into my own head a bit.” I gave the family one last look.

He studied me for a second. How many interviews had he read? Enough to know how hard I hit the ground when I fell? “Of course,” he finally said. “Happens to me all the time. One minute I’m talking with somepony, they say some choice line, and the next, my head’s off somewhere else entirely.” He gave a little chuckle and I went along with it. Was that even inheritable? Maybe Life Bloom knew. “I was just talking aloud about how I’d start the talk with Silvy. I don’t think there’s an easy way to tell her, but then, how many important things are easy?”

“I don’t know, it was kind of easy when Mom told me she was my Mom... but it was also kind of really good news for me, you know?” I said. I started to say something else, but thought better. Maybe saying it was a relief that my parents hadn’t just abandoned me to tour the world was a bad idea, since it was only half-right. “But… yeah, your news sounds tough.”

The conversation lulled for a bit as we both went back into our heads. What was he thinking about? Was he asking himself the same question? Trying to get into my head? Replaying all the things he read in the paper, figure out was real and what wasn’t? “It’s all true,” I finally said. “The stories in the papers, you know. Well, my story is, and I think Bright Lights’ story is mostly true. Like, her last interview was just a massive lie, but the stuff before that, what I was like back then? Maybe she twisted things up a bit, but it all kind of feels right. She just didn’t talk about how she got me hooked and made me completely dependent on her. Don’t know why she forgot that.”

“Ah, yes,” he said, blinking. “I was actually curious about – Well, not the tabloid details, I’d prefer not knowing those – but I was curious about the mare you’ve become. Who you are, where you’ve been, where you want to go, that sort of thing. Beyond just facts, and with the paper’s perspective excised.”

“And the stuff I don’t want to share?” I asked, tilting her head. “Because–”

He waved a hoof. “I don’t expect you to tell me everything – wanting that would be the height of arrogance on my part – but I would appreciate it if you didn’t lie to me.” He tapped a hoof. “Oh, there must be an appropriately pithy way I can put this. What about ‘Don’t tell me everything, but keep what you do tell honest’?” He shook his head. “No, it still doesn’t flow right, what about–”

“It’s fine, I get it,” I said, raising a hoof up. “And I think I can do that, but if I say I don’t want to talk about something, you drop it, right?” He nodded. “Alright, then I’ll tell you all about me, but…” I paused and grinned. “You first.”

“Wait, what?” he asked, blinking. “That’s…” He took a breath. “Yes, well, I suppose that’s…”

“You know a lot about me,” I said, tilting my head. “My story was in all the papers, and I bet you made sure to look through everything with my name on it – but I didn’t even know your name until just a few minutes ago. I figure if we’re going to be telling our life stories, you go first.”

“Alright,” he said, nodding his head. “My life story. I suppose… Where would I even begin?”

♥♥♥

I suppose it all turns around you. It doesn’t start with you; I had my dreams before that. I was a stallion – a colt, really – with grand ambitions. I wanted to travel the world, to pluck secret words from the hearts of stars and wrestle them onto the page. You know, forge in the smithy of my soul a new Equestrian conscience. That sort of thing.

Wait, so you didn’t want to be a nurse when you were young? I thought once you got your cutie mark, you just kind of focused on that.

Oh, and I did, but my special talent isn’t nursing, it’s poetry. To me, poetry has always been fundamentally about expressing the truth – not facts, journalists are good enough for that – but real sublime truth, and like all beautiful things, truth rests in the heart.

I suppose that’s what drew your mother and I together initially. We were both artists, in our fashion; we both wanted to reveal beauty, we both had dreams beyond Ponyville – she wanted Canterlot, I wanted the world – and we were both monumentally selfish at the time. We were going to reshape the world and leave behind great monuments to vanity and ambition.

So, what, you were just going to be like some artsy power couple?

We didn’t talk about our plans. We didn’t have plans together. It was all very “in the moment,” and our plans rarely outpaced the evening.

Don’t look at me like that, it was more than just sex, but… we believed love and art should be free, and scoffed at leser ponies who bound themselves together eternally.

That doesn’t sound a lot like Mom.

Well, perhaps those ideas were more mine than hers. I was more concerned with the intellectual statement, and she more with the romance of the idea. I remember her working her way through quite a few non-traditional romance novels back then. Stories with liberated mares giving their hearts away freely, getting involved in these grand, passionate, all-consuming relationships that licked them up like fire.

Anyways, where was I? Right, the two of us were together with no plans beyond the evening. We met, discussed our great works of the day, our dreams, or whatever beautiful thing grabbed our attention, and then… Well, we were young and in love, do I need to say anything else?

Please don’t.

Right, well, this continued for a season. It was the long summer of adolescence. We’d finished school, were technically adults, and had none of the responsibilities that came with the title. We were factories of passion, spending our days churning out art to leave our signature on Equestria and our nights drawing together for inspiration. Then, of course, it all came crashing down with you.

We weren’t careful. I thought just because she wasn’t actually in heat, we were fine. Of course, the funny thing is, I knew she could go into heat any day, but didn’t stop to consider what would happen if she was fine one day and in heat the next. Like I said, no thought to the future. At least, not to our future.

Well, one day after her heat ended – I remember it ended early that year, I suppose that was the first sign – she came up to me with the news. She was pregnant and expected me to give up my dreams of travel to support her. I think… I think she would have been fine if I just stayed in Ponyville, but I didn’t see that then. I saw a betrayal of all our ideas. I saw her demanding I abandon my dreams and goals to take care of her, and there wasn’t a single mention of her abandoning any of her ambitions.

Leaving felt like my only option. Maybe it wasn’t, maybe I was wrong – I was wrong about a lot of things back then – but I can only speak to my feelings in the moment and seeing her standing before me, demanding my life with no thought to what I wanted… Yes, of course I ran. I told her what she wanted to hear, and then once I was back home, I packed all my things in a cart, told Mom and Dad what I was doing and why and slunk out of Ponyville in the middle of the night.

So you just left?

Well, I wasn’t going to face your mother again. You just didn’t say ‘no’ to her back then. No, the only way to leave unscathed was by sneaking away. I didn’t even tell my parents where I’d settled until a bit before I left on my tour.

Your tour?

Oh, yes, I’m getting there, but I need to set some things up in Hoofington first. A very important character makes their stage debut here.

That would be… Silvy?

Right. Hoofington’s her town. She was born and raised here. Back then, she was a recently-hired teller at a local bank. That’s how we met: my parents were wiring some bits over to me, and she was the agent who assisted me.

So, what? You just decided to marry a bank teller?

Not at all. Well, later I did, but back then, we were just two ponies making small talk. I mentioned my plans to travel the world, she said she’d never left Hoofington, and I can’t remember exactly how things transpired from there, but it ended with me taking down her address and agreeing to write often.

And you did?

Prolifically. Letters on letters on letters. It started off as a rather dry travelogue, describing what I’d seen and done in as much detail as I could, but it grew from there. She wrote back, first to let me know what she thought, then to share more of her life with me. You know, what her day was like, funny little thoughts she had while working, and I suppose I reciprocated. Instead of just writing about what it saw, I wrote on what it made me feel.

But I thought you were a poet.

Yes, I am, but for me, the writing started as an obligation. I enjoyed the writing, but at first, I thought she’d prefer it if I divorced myself from the sites as much as possible. Silly in hindsight, but it took me a while to realize that just describing the site didn’t capture the emotional weight of the moment. That would require putting my own emotions on the page.

Anyways, yes. Our correspondence deepened, we shared more of our lives with each other, and soon enough, I was writing her poems to try and capture the grandeur and beauty of all I’d seen for her, and she was writing about the new house she purchased in Hoofington, how she was renovating it. One night, somewhere out on the steppe, huddled in a tent to see the travelling capital of the Wildmares, I found myself writing a different poem. Small and impressionistic, it was just… a moment, two ponies together, surrounded by home. The next day, I turned west and my wanderings drew to a close..

Just like that? You gave up travelling the world so you could be with a mare? Couldn’t you have finished your tour?

Perhaps, but there came a time for me – maybe it comes for all ponies – when you wake up and realize that what you wanted isn’t what you needed. I wanted to tour the world and enlighten Equestria. I didn’t need it, though. Instead of shaping the souls of others, I needed to cleanse my own. So I traded in grand vistas for domestic simplicity, and never looked back.

Great. Would it have killed you to have that revelation before you left?

Sweetie…

I know, I know, you already talked about it. You regret it, but you wouldn’t undo it, because this way, you got to travel the world and get married and be a boring dad. Hooray for you. Now, are you going to tell me about how you came back to Hoofington, bent your knee, and immediately proposed to Silver Whatever?

Quick Silver, and well, yes, I did. She didn’t say yes, though. It turns out bank tellers aren’t as given to grand romantic gestures as poets. Still, she did let me stay with her on a trial basis. Then, she extended the trial, and a few months later, she was the one doing the proposing. I probably could have come up with something a bit more romantic, but I’m proud to say not by much.

And then you got married, had a couple of kids, and everything was just peachy until I showed up?

I already said I’m not going to apologize for the good things in my life. I made my mistakes, and I’ll gladly try to make amends for them, but–

“Hey, Sweetie, what are you doing out here with the nurse?”

♪♪♪

My head whipped around, pulled away from my interrogation of Artie and towards Scootaloo. “Hey, Scootaloo,” I said, smiling back at my marefriend as she trotted over towards us, her scooter slung across her back. She was still a few pony-lengths away, but I could already smell the stink of sweat on her. Must’ve been pushing herself extra hard today. No points for guessing why. “So…” How long had we been out here talking? The sun had just finished slipping behind the mountains a few minutes ago, and considering we were getting close to the longest day of the year... “Wow, the time really went by, didn’t it?”

She nodded, taking another step forward and giving Artie a look. “And what are you still doing with him? I thought he was just going to walk you back to our cabin.”

I smiled at her and rubbed the back of my head. Time for a little tiny confession. “Yeah, so… the nurse’s name is Purple Heart, and he’s my–” At the last second I switched the words from familiarity to formality, using the same word for him that Mom did for her own dad. “Father.”

Scootaloo laughed. I glared at her. Really? I just confessed and she– “That’s a good one, Sweetie, but…” She stopped and looked at me, leaning in to study my face. “Wait, you really believe that, don’t you?” In a second, she’d positioned herself between me and Artie, and was staring him down. “So, you saw a confused mare, read about her in the papers, and thought you could get a nice paycheck out of scamming her, right?”

Artie returned her look with a quiet curiosity, like he was trying to take in all the fiery passion that was Scootaloo and understand it. “Unless I’m gravely mistaken, the news that Rarity is Sweetie Belle’s true mom isn’t public knowledge. As far as the world is concerned, Sweetie’s parents and Rarity’s parents are one and the same.” He looked past Scootaloo to me. “Or am I forgetting something?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“So, what?” Scootaloo asked, looking back at me, still keeping us separate. “You just expect me to believe that your dad just happened to live in the same town I had my big race in?”

That was… A tortured grin formed on my face. “Not quite. It’s more like I learned he was living in Hoofington first, and convinced you to do compete in the Open second.”

In a blink, she’d swiveled around and pressed her face right up to mine. “Say that again?” She glared at me and for once, I didn’t glare back. Glaring didn’t help defuse her.

“Defuse? I thought she was a pony, not a bomb,” a voice said behind me. Not Bright Lights’ or Mom’s, but mine. Before she could say another word, I lit up my horn and burned her away.

“Okay, so, I had my own reason for coming to Hoofington, but it’s not like I lied to you. I really do think you should race in the Open, but… I also wanted to track down my father while we were here. We both got something we wanted,” I said, trying to keep my smile up and taking a step back.

“Really?” Scootaloo asked. “You think I care about…? Sweetie, you lied to me.” What? I’d literally just said I hadn’t lied. I opened my mouth to protest. “Okay, you didn’t tell a lie.” She waved a hoof. “Whatever, you still manipulated me. You tricked me into doing something you wanted instead of just talking to me.” So? That was how our whole relationship worked. How was this worse than any of the other times I manipulated her?

She found out.

“And?” I asked, tilting my head and firing off my next thought. “I’m still helping you. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be too scared to be out here competing. Who cares if I get something I want as well?”

“If it wasn’t for you?!” Scootaloo shouted. “If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve competed years ago. The only reason I didn’t want to do the Open originally was because I was worried about you.” In the background, Purple Heart was backing away. I held up a hoof for him to stay. He stopped.

“Yeah, and you shouldn’t have been, so I gave you a push in the right direction.” I lifted my muzzle up. “You’ve liked everything I made you do, so I don’t get what the big deal is. I’m just doing what’s best for both of us, so maybe give me just a little trust.”

In the background, Purple Heart winced and I figured out why a second later. “Really?” Scootaloo said, taking another step forward and sending me a step closer to the lake’s edge. “Okay, so do you want to tell me why you hid the fact your dad lived in Hoofington?” Right, when we were having fights about me manipulating her, bringing up trust was probably a bad idea.

“Because I know you’re sending little reports back to Mom,” I said, launching my own offensive and stomping towards her. Scootaloo refused to move. “Anything starts going wrong with me, and you have to let her know. That’s the deal, right?”

She might not have moved, but she was still taken aback. “Well, yeah, but I don’t always have to. I kept your secret when you ran out into the middle of the road.”

“Sure,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Because it’s our secret. If Mom found out, she’d have been back in Manehattan in a heartbeat, probably really upset at you, poring over every bit of my life, and if she’d found out about our fights, we’d’ve been done. You didn’t have a reason to lie this time.”

“So… what you’re saying is you don’t trust me to help you out when I don’t have a reason to,” Scootaloo asked like she was stating a fact. “What you’re saying is that, when it comes down to it, you don’t trust me to be there for you when you need me.” Great, and she was trying to make it all about her. Make it so I was the bad mare. Well, what she called bad, I called doing what had to be done to make us work. To keep us both happy. If that was bad, then, yeah, I guess I was bad.

You already know you’re bad.

I waved a hoof dismissively. “Yeah, I guess when it comes to important life-altering things, I don’t trust you not to tell my mom, and I’d rather have you do what I want than spend all day arguing with me.”

Scootaloo took a deep breath, and then… just trotted away. “Got it,” she said. “After everything I’ve done, you still don’t trust me. You still think I’m gonna betray you the second you do something I don’t like. Well, guess what, Sweetie? I’m not going to tell your Mom about this. I’m going to keep your secret for you, and I would’ve done it anyways, if you’d asked.” I followed along behind her, but she held up a hoof for me to stop. “Sweetie, I still love you, but right now, I don’t want to be near you. I need to think, and that’s a lot easier to do without you.”

“And what?” I asked, taking another step after her. “You’re just going to take over the cottage and send me out on my own? Kind of thought you didn’t want me to be alone.”

“Yeah, well, I thought you were being honest with me, so…” She looked back at me. “Look, I’m not throwing you out on the street. You have enough bits for your own hotel room, and – you know what? – you’ll be fine. You’re not as much of a danger to yourself as I thought.” My heart pounded in my chest. What did she mean by that? Was she figuring out… She’d hate me if she learned about that lie.

I smiled at her. There was a bar in the hotel. One bad relapse, and I’d have her back with no questions asked. She couldn’t help herself when it came to me.

“Sweetie, are you hearing yourself?” Mom asked from next to me.

Yeah, I heard me, I was just doing what I had to. Another terrible thing to keep our relationship alive. Put it on the pile, right? “Alright, fine,” I said to Scootaloo. “Have a good night, and I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night?” Or tomorrow morning passed out on her doorstep reeking of alcohol. She nodded. I gave her a quick kiss and ignored Scootaloo’s repressed revulsion. More than usual, this time. “Great, I’ll see you then.”

She turned and trotted away and I just sat staring after her as she shrank to nothing. “Are you really going to do this?” Mom asked, moving closer to me.

I just nodded. “If I have to.”

“Have to what?” a stallion – Purple Heart – said from behind me.

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head and turning back to him. “Just… sorry you had to see that.”

“Believe me, I’ve seen worse. Been a part of worse,” he said. ”How are you doing?”

I shrugged at him and looked back at the hotel and its bar. “I’ll be fine. It’s not like it’s our first fight. Or second.”

“Or twentieth?” he asked. I looked at the line of muzzle and saw the tiniest of upticks. If he was wrong, I might’ve been mad.

“Yeah, I think we’re pushing up on triple digits now,” I said, trotting back to the hotel with him following behind. “Do you think there’s any chance they still have an open room with the race so close?”

“If it was tomorrow, absolutely not, but today… there’s the slimmest of chances they still have an opening. However…” He trailed off and I turned around to look at him. “Listen, we have a spare guest room, all the comforts of home, and I’m proud to say I cook a very mean breakfast scramble. Considering this fight is at least partly my fault and…”

I raised an eyebrow up at him. “Really? You’re going to offer me a place to stay just like that? That’s kind of a lot to dump on your family.”

“Yes, I’m very aware,” he said, nodding his head. “But it’s also the right thing to do.” He turned around and gestured for me to follow him. “Now, come on. I’m sure once Quick Silver calms down she’ll absolutely love you, Ruby always loves meeting new ponies, and Sonnet… well, she might pass out when she sees you.”

“Good pass out or bad pass out?” I asked, quirking my head as I followed after him.

“Oh, very good,” he said. “Through no prodding of my own, she decided to become your biggest fan. Your poster hangs over her bed, she owns all your Bridleway albums, and I think she’s written you enough letters to rival my own works. Any chance you…” He looked at me, trying to figure out the nicest way to ask if I remembered any of her letters through my drug fog.

“Sorry,” I said, frowning. “Between everything that happened, I don’t remember much, especially not fan letters. I think maybe Bright Lights handled all those?”

He shook his head. “I feared as much. Well, either way, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to meet you.” We turned down into one of Hoofington’s small streets, and I could’ve sworn I stepped back into the old Ponyville. The one before Twilight and everything else.

“So, did you intentionally move to a town that was just like Ponyville, or what?” I asked. “Also, what’s up with you? Like, you’re a poet, but you also work as a nurse?”

“I believe I decided on Hoofington by throwing a dart on a map of Equestria. Well, two darts; the first one landed back on Ponyville. Second, I like the work. It informs my creative passion, brings money to help support my family, and allows me to keep the price of my books down.”

“Wait, what?” I asked, my ears swiveling to focus on his voice. He wanted to make less money from his poetry? “So, you want to help support your family, but you also want to sell your books for cheaper? You know, you could make more money if…”

“Yes, I could make more money if I sold my books above cost, but then fewer ponies would be able to read my work,” he said, slowing his trot as we approached the next cottage. “And art shouldn’t just be for the rich. The fruits of the mind are equanity’s birthright, and I’d rather my work enrich the world than enrich me.”

Oh, Celestia, he was one of those ponies. I’d met at least a few of them in Manehattan. I only had a few vague impressions, but I definitely remember being annoyed when the ‘noble’ starving artist would lecture me about the evils of profit in one breath and then expect me – well, Bright Lights – to pay the bill in the next.

“You know, I always admired the street musician. They play for free but manage to support themselves through the generosity of a few listeners, and don’t you think there’s something wonderfully intimate about a performance on a street corner?” I rolled my eyes where he couldn’t see them. On the other hoof, he did have a regular job to make money, so if he wanted to be stupidly principled about stuff, that was his business.

“Yeah, it’s super admirable,” I said as he trotted over to a door and paused outside the entrance. “But I think I’ll take being able to make a living doing what I love over making some point.”

“Fair enough,” he said, shrugging. “I won’t begrudge any artist who makes a living off their work.” He smiled at me. “And perhaps my grand intellectual point masks the fact that it’s almost impossible to make a living as a poet.”

I gave a little laugh. “It’s that bad?”

He nodded. “Oh, yes. Excluding me, can you name any living poets?”

“Not really,” I said, shaking my head. I probably couldn’t name any dead poets, either, though.

“And that’s my point. We don’t tend to have mainstream appeal. Some do, but that’s the exception, not the rule,” he said before glancing back at the door. “I think it would be best if you wait outside while I speak with my wife. Once she calms down, I’ll call you in.” I nodded and a second later, he slipped through the door, leaving me behind to stare up at the burgeoning night sky.

“You could just go back to the hotel,” Bright Lights whispered in my ear. “Go to the bar, get drunk, pass out on the doorstep, and reel Scootaloo back in.”

I paused for a second. I could. I definitely could do that, and it would work. Scootaloo might yell a bit, but she’d take me back, maybe tighten my leash a bit, but who cared if it glossed over our fight? She loved me, I loved her, and I needed to make her happy. To give her what she wanted. I owed her that and so much more. Owed her everything.

On the other hoof, I’d be hurting Scootaloo to get what I wanted, and that was… I sighed and lit my horn up, sending Bright Lights back to oblivion. Maybe getting to know my father and his family wasn’t that awful an idea. I could always manipulate Scootaloo tomorrow if she was still being stubborn.

Behind me, I heard a mare shout “You did what?!” loud enough for half the neighborhood to hear. So, I guess that was Silvy, and it sounded like she was taking it about as well as you’d expect. My gaze turned towards the moon. Funny how clear all the stars were out here. In the city you could only see, like, a couple dozen of them. Out here, you could see thousands and thousands, and they all looked so crisp. How many could you see in Ponyville, now?

My lips twitched. I needed to get to sleep soon and see how Luna was doing. Plus, she’d probably have about a hundred questions for me about how I was doing. Well, between Scootaloo and Artie, we’d have enough to keep us going until morning. Although you know what she’ll want to talk about with Scootaloo. Maybe we’d just talk about Art.

“And you brought her with you?!” A few villagers poked their heads out the door, taking note on tomorrow’s gossip. I slunk a bit closer to the porch’s shadows, hoping nopony’d recognize me. I hadn’t been trying to hide myself in town, but now? Anonymity would be better now.

I sighed and went back to studying the stars to pass the time. “Well, what’s she doing now?” Quick Silver – I guess – asked, voice quieter this time. If the back of my head wasn’t resting against the door, I probably wouldn’t have–

Something whumped into me, sending me sprawling off the porch and into the bushes. I stared up, bits of leaves and stuff almost hiding my view of the filly staring down at me with big amber eyes. “It’s you! What are you doing here? Did you get my letters? Oh my gosh, you want me to help you do your comeback, right? I’ve been planning it all out, you’ll do your most popular songs, I’ll compose some more for you, everypony’ll love them, and they’ll forget all about the lies in the paper,” she said, words tumbling out. “Then, when we’re alone, you’ll confess how much I mean to–” She shut up, snapping her jaw closed. I almost laughed at that, like something I’d’ve done way back when I was her age.

“Uhmm…. Hi,” I said, holding out a hoof and taking a closer look at her. It was too dark to get a good look at her coat and mane colors beyond the fact that they were two different colors that looked kind of grayish at night. Earth pony, though – or at least, not a unicorn. “Could you help me up?”

She squealed and grabbed my hoof. “Oh my gosh, I get to help you up after I accid–” Her brain caught up to her mouth again and she pulled her hoof away, dropping me back onto the ground. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to! I was just so excited and what are you even doing outside my house and I’m Dulcet Sonatina, but you probably already knew that if you were visiting me.”

“Actually, I didn’t,” I said as I rolled over onto my stomach and pushed myself up, checking to see if anything was too sore. I might ache for a bit, but it didn’t feel like anything’d been broken. I wiggled a hoof just to be sure, then wiggled the next. “I guess you’re Sonnet, though? You don’t look like a Ruby.” Sonnet, Sonatina, that probably was like how you got Artie out of Purple Heart. Still, Dulcet sounded way better.

Before she could say something else, the door to the house opened and another mare trotted out. Older, probably about Art’s or Mom’s age, and she was quick to get between me and her daughter. “What did you do?” she asked, looking right at me. Great, nice to meet you, too.

“I got tackled by your daughter,” I said, meeting her eyes and doing my best to be diplomatic. Blowing up in front of – What was she? She was something to me, right? Step-mom? Felt weird using that term for her if I wasn’t thinking of Art as my dad – during our first meeting wouldn’t help things. And it’s not like it was her fault she had all this dumped on her.

Is that actual empathy? Well done, Sweetie. I flicked my ear and continued. “I’m guessing seeing me sitting on her porch was kind of a shock for her,” I continued. There was a small flicker in the air as the hostility left her look. My answer must’ve satisfied her mother bear instinct.

“Yeah, she wants me to help with her big comeback tour,” Dulcet said. “It’s going to be great, she must’ve read all my fan letters and realized I was her truest fan.” Silver looked from her daughter to me and I just shrugged. Apparently, that was good enough for her. She smiled and turned back to her daughter.

“Sweetie–” She tripped on that term for a second as we both focused on her. “Sonnet, go inside and talk to Daddy for a minute. Mommy’s going to talk with Miss Belle for a few minutes, alright?”

“But Mom–” Dulcet started to say. Seriously, Dulcet sounded like a way nicer name than Sonnet.

“Sonnet, go inside,” Silver said before her daughter could finish the protest. “I promise, you’ll get a chance to talk with Sweetie in a bit.” Under her supervision, of course. Not that I could blame her for that. Considering my reputation… Yeah, I could see why ponies wouldn’t want me alone with their daughters, even if I was also their half-sister.

“Fine,” Dulcet said, trudging past her mother and into the house.

“So…” Silver said a second after the door clicked shut. “You’ll forgive me if I’m still working to understand everything. You’re quite a bit to take in.”

I laughed. “That’s one way to put it. Probably a way nicer way to put it than I would. So…” I hoofed at the ground. “Look, I get this is weird, and I think maybe Purple Heart overestimated how easy this would be for you to deal with.” I shook my head. “And I was probably a little crazy for thinking he might be right, so if you want, I can just go back to the hotel and we can pretend nothing happened.”

“Oh, I think that’s quite impossible,” she said, looking at me and adding up sums in her head. “We can’t just ignore our problems, we have to deal with them.” Great, so I was going to be dealt with. At least Scootaloo could point ponies in the right direction if I went missing. “Why don’t we go for a walk, Miss Belle?”

Wait, was she actually going to kill me? Because if I wanted to get rid of somepony, leading them out to the woods in the middle of the night and hitting them on the head with something heavy wasn’t the worst way to do it. “Uhmm… call me Sweetie,” I said, looking at her and giving the tiniest nod. “It’s kind of weird when ponies get all formal with you, right? Maybe it’s just me?”

“Really?” she asked, heading towards the center of town. I let out a small sigh of relief. “I thought you’d be used to it, considering your station.”

“Station?” I tilted my head and laughed. “Oh, the nobility thing. Well, I didn’t really know about that until, like, a month ago. It hasn’t really… I don’t know, I still feel like everypony else.”

“Very well,” she said as we kept moving towards – I visualized Hoofington in my head – the town square. “So…” There was silence. “You’re Artie’s long-lost daughter.”

“Uhmm… yeah,” I said, nodding my head. “Look, I just wanted to figure out who he is and ask him some things. He seems like a nice pony and all, but if I’m going to mess everything up for you two, I can just–”

“No,” she said, voice firm. “No, we can’t pretend things are the way they were; that won’t accomplish anything. Instead, we need to develop our new framework. Rebalance our accounts.”

“Okay,” I said, frowning as we reached a statue in the center of town. If I looked close enough, I could see how it was different from Ponyville’s statue, but I had to look really close. “So what needs rebalancing?”

“If you’re going to spend any time with our family, you’re going to spend time with my fillies. Artie and I have done our best raise them, and I don’t want to…” She trailed off, trying to figure out how to end the sentence.

“You don’t want me to mess them up,” I said. Fair enough, considering all the stuff that’d been printed about me in the papers. If I had fillies, I wouldn’t want them around me either.

“Essentially. I was trying to come up with a more… diplomatic phrasing, but Artie’s the one with the golden tongue,” she said.

“Alright, well I definitely won’t do any drugs or anything around them. Or encourage it. Or do anything else for that matter. I can be boring vanilla Sweetie when I’m over,” I said looking around at the few ponies who were still out.

“Define ‘boring vanilla Sweetie’ for me,” she said, pausing to examine me. “And please, spare no detail.”

“Okay, well, not doing or recommending drugs is a given,” I said, tilting my head and looking up at the stars. “Like, that’s part of normal Sweetie. So is not drinking, well, usually. Sometimes, though…” I shrugged. “Anyways, I won’t encourage drinking around them, and I can probably share a lot of horror stories about why you shouldn’t drink.” I paused and tapped a hoof. “Huh, turns out boring vanilla Sweetie is a lot like normal Sweetie.” I smiled. Progress, right?

“And the other behavior?” she asked, frowning. What other behavior? Had I missed something important? What other thing had I–

“Oh! The sex. Obviously, I won’t try to sleep with them, they’re just fillies, they’re my half-sisters, and I’m exclusively dating Scootaloo.” I laughed and looked away from her. “Did you really have to ask about that?”

“While it’s a relief knowing you won’t try to seduce my daughters, that wasn’t remotely my concern. My bigger worry is that you’ll encourage wilder behavior. I do not want to see a paper proclaiming either of my daughters as the ‘Queen of Kink,’” she said, stepping a bit closer and lowering her voice, possibly for my sake, possibly for hers.

I looked away again, this time so I could hide my eyeroll. Great, she was one of those ponies who worried about the harmless activities two or more ponies got up to in their free time. “I won’t apologize or say any of that stuff was bad – unfulfilling, maybe – but not bad. But, I won’t talk about that stuff around them. Does that work?”

She nodded once. “Yes. Enough for a trial basis, at least,” she said, turning back to the house. “I hope you understand my worry.”

“I get it,” I said, waving a hoof. “Like, the pony I used to be definitely shouldn’t be allowed around fillies, but I’m trying to be better.”

Silver smiled as we moved away from the big statue and I gave the square one last look. There were still a few ponies walking around or sitting on a bench. A few couples, a lone family, and it looked like a couple of loners. I gave one of the single ponies a nod as we passed. Maybe they had their match in the square tonight. “Well,” Quick Silver said, “you’re certainly not as… debauched as I expected. Or unhinged.”

“Ooh, she obviously hasn’t seen you around your Scootaloo,” a hallucinatory Bright Lights said, giggling next to me. “That way lies madness.” I pulsed my horn and banished her.

“What did you just do?” Silver asked, narrowing her eyes. “Your horn lit up and you cast a spell, but I don’t see–”

“It’s a calming spell,” I half-lied. Could other ponies see that pulse? I always thought it was dream magic and invisible to normal ponies. “Whenever I start getting stressed or anxious, I cast the spell and it helps me calm down.” And from a certain point of view, that was completely true. It just required some broad interpretations.

“Ah, I see,” Silver said as we continued our walk. “You’ll be fine at our house? You won’t have any outbursts, or... episodes?”

“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. Sure, my pills were still at our hotel, but… I could skip those for a night and not be too bad in the morning. Some weird shaky spacey feelings, maybe some heart palpitations, and unspeakable dread in my stomach, but still functional. “I’m good, and thanks for… you know, giving me a chance.”

“If Artie’s taught me anything, it’s that everypony deserves a chance,” she said. “And as long as you promise not to bring any ill upon my family, I’m willing to give you that opportunity.”

“Thanks,” I said. We were looping back to her house but taking a less-straight route. This one looked like it’d take us to the town’s edge, so… I made sure to stay a bit closer to the streetlights. Just in case. “And I’ll do my best. You know, I can’t say absolutely that I won’t do anything bad, but if I do, it won’t be intentional, and I’ll do my best to make up for it.”

“That’s the most that can be expected,” she said, taking this way too calmly. Like, if it was me, and I had an unknown step-daughter show up on my doorstep, I’d… Well, she did yell when she found out, but she’d been way too calm when she was talking to me, which I guess was either really good or really bad. “Now, let’s discuss what you’re going to say when you see my daughter again.” ‘Discuss,’ that was a funny way of putting it. Maybe in Hoofington, it meant ‘dictate.’

“Okay,” I said, following a half step behind her. “So, what do you want me to tell her?”

“It would be nice if you explained just why you never wrote her back. Yes, I’m sure she’ll be… Equestrian might not have a word to capture how thrilled she’ll be to learn she’s related to you, I’ll have to ask Artie. Anyways, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to learn you’re her half-sister, but I have a hard time forgetting the nights I had to comfort her by explaining how busy you were. It’s not easy for a young filly to be rejected by her idol. You couldn’t even give her a little form letter? I understand lots of ponies have them, expressing their appreciation and coming with a little autographed headshot, and…” She took a breath. “Like I said, I have a hard time forgetting it.”

My ears flattened against my head and I sighed. “Yeah, that sounds…” I rubbed the back of my head. “I’m not saying what I did was okay, but I don’t think I ever saw a fan letter. I think maybe my… uhmm… ex-marefriend was keeping fan mail from me.”

“Fine,” she said, picking up her pace. “So why didn’t you respond to the letters she wrote after your story broke. She wasn’t with you then, was she?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I never found any letters, and I know I checked my mail at least a few times since…” I waved a hoof. “Everything.”

“Well,” she said, “I know she got the address right, she always makes me double check: PO Box 263, Manehattan 36”

My ears perked up. “Wait, I have a post box?” Seriously, was there some place that just had tons of fan letters in them, begging for me to read them?

“That explains that mystery,” she said as we reached the door to her house. “Well then, tell her the truth, say you’re sorry you never got to read her letters, and then give her a hug.” She paused, hoof hanging an inch from the door. “Any chance you know how to tell two fillies they have a half-sister?” I shrugged, and she put on a over-rehearsed smile. “Then I suppose there’s nothing to it. Care to come in and properly introduce yourself?” Light from the house tumbled out into the dark as the door opened, landing at my hooves. I blinked, eyes struggling to adjust to the light.

It would be easy to just… not. Last chance. Turn around, go to the bar, get drunk, and live my life. You don’t need more ponies filling up your life. Not just more ponies, if I stuck around, I knew what they’d become... not immediately, but in a few years?

Family.

But didn’t they have a little right to know me? Not Dad, but… I had sisters. If I had a long-lost sister, I’d go crazy for a chance to be in her life. Could I just turn around without giving them that chance? Could I turn around and not give myself that chance?

I took a breath, lifted my head up, and stepped inside, shutting the door on the dark.

Author's Note:

Three chapters until the end. Are you excited, folks? Because I'm excited.

Comments

[The Wind King]

Three chapters until the end.

Is that going to include the Sweetie, Scoota, and Dash scene from only in Manethattan? Or is there another sequel coming out after this story's done?

[Distaff Pope]

7498149 That story's getting a rewrite eventually (maybe). The first and third chapters are fine, but the chapter showing a slice of Sweetie and Scootaloo's relationship doesn't fit my vision anymore.

[Skarsnik]

I love how you managed to combine two sources of drama in the same chapter.

[Seether00]

Sweetie and Scootaloo are a terrible couple

[Peachy Keen]

Chapter 15 out the day after chapter 14 was posted? Now that was a very pleasant surprise! Thank you!

Huh! Purple Heart is quite a nice dude! I can't really say what I was expecting, but I'm pleased that he's got his life together and isn't afraid of owning up to his past. I like him! He's well spoken and caring. Little does he know his offer of room and board for the evening just prevented Sweetie from going out and getting revenge drunk, which besides being a terrible thing for Sweetie to do both for herself and Scootaloo, goodness knows what THAT would've done for Purple Heart's in-town reputation! It's not a huge deal, but yeah, coming into her father's life and subsequently (but unintentionally) humiliating him less than a day later might not be the best first impression.

Sweetie Belle really has been keeping an awful lot from Scootaloo lately, and Scoots just now partly realized that. They're both to blame for that really. Sweetie has been manipulative and distrusting, but neither of them have really put in the time or the effort of bringing any depth to the relationship! They've both been pretty closed off to one another. When was the last time they talked to each other when it wasn't about public humiliation/sex, Sweetie's health, or racing? A long loooooong time, and lately it seems like they've hardly spent any time together. I'm very interested in seeing what happens after Scootaloo has her time to think.

Only three more chapters to go?! Wow! It's been quite a ride, I'm looking forward to seeing how this story is going to wrap up! Are you planning on doing any sequels/one shots after this? Seems like a lot of plot to wrap up in three chapters, but if that's what you're planning on doing, I'm sure you'll do it admirably!

[Distaff Pope]

7502670 Oh, hey, my usual commenters have left their thoughts. I guess it's time to update again.

I know, I didn't want him to be a jerk. He's just a guy who did something stupid when he was growing up. Characters doing stupid things when they were younger and growing because of that mistake is kind of a recurring idea in this story. It's also interesting how when characters accept their past mistakes and own up to them that things start getting better. Rarity revealed her secret to Sweetie and the two drew closer. Artie gave her a place to say and stopped Sweetie going off in a bad way. I haven't quite figured out how to put that idea succinctly, but I'm working on it.

Scootaloo and Sweetie's biggest problem is a lack of open honest communication. At least, it's one of their biggest problems. And notice how much happier Sweetie seems to be when she's not doing Scootaloo things. I wanted the last two chapters to contrast with the preceding chapters by showing how much more balanced Sweetie seems when she's interacting with Page or Artie than when she's with Scootaloo. Anyways, see you in the next chapter.