• Published 20th Oct 2015
  • 4,183 Views, 103 Comments

Rebirth - Pwn13s



You adjust to life in Equestria as a Human. Love story featuring Lyra and Bon Bon.

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A Parting Gift

The stallion standing in the doorway is tall and of average size, his brown fur peeking out of simple white clothes that cover most of his body. His spectacles rest on his nose, their wire bridge seemingly causing him some irritation as his continues to fiddle with it. In his hand is a clipboard.

“Umm, mornin’ Lyra.” He pokes his head over her shoulder and looks at you. You give a short wave to the man, who nods back at you. “Something important’s come up. You may want to come with me. Now.”

“What? What’s happened?”

“It’s Bon Bon.”

You and Lyra both tense up as the words exit the doctors mouth. Lyra grabs him by the arm and squeezes tightly. “Tell me what the fuck has happened right now.”

He places a hand gently on her arm. “Lyra, I can give you all the details when we get to the hospital, so the sooner we leave the better for you.” Lyra swallows audibly, releasing her iron grip on his arm and stepping out the door. You follow suit, grabbing the house keys as you pass. Locking the door shut behind you, the brown pony takes the lead and walks along the streets with a brisk but controlled pace.

Your mind races frantically with questions and worries about the mare. Your legs carry you mindlessly across the paved streets, a rhythmic thudding against stone and cement, a routine amongst the chaos of the past few days. Though none of it has been bad so far, something tells you this will break the streak.

You catch up to Lyra and she buries her face in the nook of your arm, muttering to herself. “Oh god oh god oh god.” She grabs hold of your hand and squeezes it, and you squeeze hers gently back. You feel her pulse in your fingertips, her heart beating erratically and goosebumps prickling her skin. Following the doctor around a corner, you push through some glass double doors and into the sterile environment of the clinic.

All around you are nurses and doctors alike, speeding past and flinging themselves through doors and into rooms, tending to patients and their families, buzzing around like a colony of bees. You breathe in the flower scented aroma, but the taste in your mouth is of anything but flowers.

Next to you, Lyra breathes heavily, scanning the hospital for any sign of her girlfriend. A small pony coughs on the bench in front of the reception, a father tends to his son’s grazed knee, a mare cries happily over her newborn. And a cream coloured mare sits solemnly in her room.

Instantly you’re dragging Lyra along with you. The Doctor takes a while to notice, but when he does his legs carry him swiftly through the busy hospital and right behind you into the small room. Lyra releases a small gasp of air as she takes in the scene.

Bon Bon lies on the bed, a thin sheet strewn along her body and her feet sticking out from the edge. Her gaze is fixed on the ceiling above, her breathing ragged and visibly hurting her. Upon hearing the door click open, she turns to look at you. A tear runs down her cheek. Her eyes trail over to Lyra, and the corners of her mouth droop into a frown.

Lyra dashes to the bed and grabs the chair nearby, stroking her girlfriends hair and fretting over her. “My god Bon Bon are you okay? What’s wrong? What have they done to you?” The cream mare blinks away some more tears, her features distorted by the deep grimace that spreads across her face. You stumble to the chairs opposite to Bon’s bed, feeling a tear welling in your eye.

“Lyra. Lyra I’m so sorry.” She coughs out the words, reaching slowly for Lyra’s hand, stroking the back of it with her fingers. A soft kiss is planted on her hand, and Lyra cries into her girlfriends palm. You’re too overwhelmed by everything going on and can’t speak. Behind you, the doctor knocks on the door. Lyra turns to him.

“What’s happening? What is this?” Tears stream down her face, the whites of her eyes turning red.

“I’m sorry Lyra. Bon Bon came for a check up and didn’t feel so good. She seemed to have a few worrying symptoms, some anomalies, and we had her x-rayed. The results weren’t good. I’m afraid she has a malignant tumour in her lung, and it’s spread rapidly.

Highly developed lung cancer. Chances of survival are low among patients, and even then they often live life severely scarred.”

“She has, lung c-cancer? But you can cure it right? There’s a cure right!?” She shouts at the doctor, her eyes filled with tears and worry. You wipe away a tear of your own, your face buried in your hands. Lyra’s chest rises and falls with her breathing, her eyes clouded with a mixture of rage and sadness. “Tell me there’s a fucking cure!”

“I, we. I…” The stallion sighs. “No. We don’t have the knowledge to get rid of it without causing permanent damage. Fatal damage. We’ve already removed a significant amount of the infected site, and any more would simply render her unable to breathe.”

“Can’t you use magic to get rid of it? Surely you’ve got these fucking powers for stuff like this? Right?” Your question is desperate, a final plead for some ray of light in this abyss of pain. The doctor shakes his head, and your shoulders sag.

“I’m so sorry. I know you wouldn’t know, but for us It’s common knowledge that we can’t use magic in the medical field, no matter what. Not even Celestia is allowed to cure anything through magic. Besides, we don’t have spells that are potent enough to fix this. I’m sorry. It’s been diagnosed too late.

If it were up to me I’d have already searched for a cure to everything and no one would have to die. I would have sacrificed my life to cure all illnesses on this planet. Hell, I’d have done it for one person only. If, it were up to me. But it’s not. And hence I can’t do anything but offer my sympathies.”

Lyra stares blankly at the Doctor for a couple of seconds, then with tears streaming down her face she turns back to Bon Bon. “Lyra I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

She runs a cyan hand over the mares face, cupping her cheeks and stroking a strand of hair from her eyes. “Don’t be fucking stupid Bon. None if this is your fault.”

“It is. It really is. You remember all those years ago, when you told me I had to quit smoking? Well I did, but the damage had obviously been done already. My god Lyra I’m so fucking sorry.” At this point Lyra is bawling her eyes out while Bon sits and weeps silently.

“Don’t, don’t say it. There’s no way in hell you’re responsible for this.”

Your mind seems damaged, unable to comprehend what’s occurring around you and how to react. It had never really crossed your mind that there would be laws regarding the use of magic. It never occurred to you that this kind of pain would even be present in a land such as this. You swallow the lump in your throat. “Well, how bad is it? I mean, how-“

The stallion cuts you off. “How long does she have? It really isn’t good. Are you, okay with hearing this?” He motions to Lyra.

“Of course I’m not fucking okay with hearing it.” Lyra sniffles, her nostrils flaring. Her tone suddenly becomes much more gentle, almost defeated. It breaks your heart to hear her speak, and Bon Bon is visibly upset as well. “But I need to know.”

“At best, I’d say about a week. But she’ll be bed bound for the whole time.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” You mutter under your breath. Your hands are shaking violently and the corners of your mouth are tugging downwards into a scowl. Tears suddenly blind your eyes, and you grit your teeth. Whirling around, you bury your fist into the hospital’s wall, a dark pool of rage and despair bubbling deep inside you. “Jesus fucking christ!” Bon Bon flinches.

Lyra screams out. “Fuck! My god Bon how didn’t we notice this any earlier! How did this get this bad!?” She kneels down next to the bed, her knees tucked underneath her and her head buried in her own shoulder. She goes limp, her arms are draped over the bed’s frame, her hands resting on Bon Bon’s stomach.

You stand up, your knees threatening to buckle with every step. Sitting down on Bon’s left side relieves you of this worry. “How did we let this happen.” Lyra begins to shake with grief.

You lock eyes with Bon, and she flashes you a sad smile. Your body racks with sobs, your shoulders rising and falling erratically as tears stream from your eyes, staining the pristine bed sheets that the mare will never leave from. Your grimace worsens as Bon tries to comfort you, her hand running over yours. You squeeze it tightly, worried that it may disappear as soon as you let go.

The Doctor still stands in the doorway, but after a few seconds he finally leaves without a word. The door clicks shut, and suddenly it’s just the three of you, drowning in the noises of Lyra’s wailing and your weeping, Bon Bon lying down in the middle with her hands on both of your shoulders. Surprisingly, through all of this, she’s the one giving support.


You open your eyes slowly, the skin around it still sore and puffy from crying. Your nose is blocked partially with mucus, you have a lump in your throat and your mouth feels dry. Your head aches. Your legs wobble with every step. Your mind is clouded with emotions of sadness and fear, and most of all, the knowledge that at any moment the memories may come back to haunt you.

Groggily, you get out of bed and shamble into the kitchen, sweeping the coffee beans across the table and into the machine. You press down on the cold metal button, drowning in the sharp noise of the steam being blown out of the casing. The smell of the beans wafts across the kitchen and into your nose, clearing your mind somewhat.

But what awaits in your mind would have been better had it remained clouded. Fucking hell. You pour the dark liquid into a mug, dropping in one cube of sugar and stirring it with a spoon. Pouring more into a different mug, you hear a door click open, and turn to face Lyra.

3 days since the news and she still looks like hell.

Her long jacket forms little bundles at the end of her arms, grey socks that jiggle as she moves across the kitchen. She stumbles the last few steps towards you, falling right into your chest and arms as you close them around her. Her breath is warm against your shirt.

“Made us some coffee.”

She smiles weakly. “You’re a life saver.” Reaching around you, she grabs the mug with milk and sugar, whereas you’ve chosen to drink pure black. She takes a tentative sip, blowing on the surface until it’s deemed cool enough to consume. Her breath forms slight clouds in the cool morning air.

You gulp down some of your own, feeling the hot liquid slide down your throat and pooling in your stomach, forming a small concentration of warmth. A slight buzz runs through you as your body reacts to the caffeine. Beside you, Lyra cups her hands around the mug, still attempting to cool the surface of her drink.

Your eyes drift to hers for a couple of seconds, studying her face for a sign as to how she’s coping. The answer is pretty obvious. Her girlfriend is currently in the process of fucking dying, how do you think she’s doing?

You want to hold her. To let her know it’s okay, let her know that you’re here for her. But it doesn’t seem appropriate. Doesn’t seem right. So instead, you stand there uselessly, watching the mare drink her coffee. Strangely enough, she looks so serene. Perhaps being so exhausted rendered her unable to feel anything.

She looks up.

You dart your eyes away from hers, heat and colour alike flooding your cheeks. You take a much larger gulp of coffee, hoping it can provide an alibi for your flushed tone. Lyra’s lips curl ever so slightly into a smile, and you feel relieved at her reaction, returning to much smaller sips of your beverage.

Finally swallowing the last of the drink, you spit out a couple coffee dregs and wash your glass. Lyra slurps on hers as you make your way back into your room. Dressed in only a pair of shorts, you decide that a trip to the hospital probably constitutes some actual clothing, and you change into long black pants and a long sleeved shirt.

Lyra leaves her room just as you close the door to yours, now dressed herself in a more decent outfit. She reaches out to you and grabs your hand, squeezing gently as she leans on you. You squeeze it back, walking with her out of the house and into the streets. The chill air runs through the alley as Winter begins to show signs of returning, and the plants are glistening with morning dew.

It’s such a beautiful day, wasted on such a solemn occasion.

You exhale a long breath through your nose, watching the wispy cloud of steam drift away in the breeze. Her hand in yours, her head nuzzled against your shoulder, you and Lyra begin to amble down the streets towards the hospital. Pushing through the front door, you’re welcomed once more by the dismal atmosphere of the building.

Lyra makes a beeline for Bon’s room, barging past the mass of people that swarm the hospital. You trail close behind her, making a feeble attempt at moving past the crowd politely, a mixture of apologies gushing from your mouth. You enter the room softly this time, the anxiety and fear of your previous trip replaced with tiredness and sorrow.

Bon Bon smiles calmly as Lyra sits next to her, worrying about how the night was spent and if her girlfriend slept alright. You take your seat at the end of the bed and muster up a melancholy smile when the mares eyes meet yours. A heavy sigh fills the room.

A man enters the room with a large plastic tray in his hands, filled with an assortment of breakfast foods and a mug of coffee. Placing it gently on the bedside table, he nods his head towards Bon Bon and exits the room again. The mare sits up and places her hand in Lyra’s. “How’d you sleep.”

“Not so good. You?”

“Same as you. At least they have a TV here.” She pokes at the remote and the screen lights up, displaying a young mare reporting the weather. Pressing another button, the volume mutes and your attention returns to the room.

Bon Bon scratches the back of her head. “Hey Lyra, I know you just got here but, could you, give us a minute?” Lyra looks to you for an explanation, but you’re just as confused as she is. Lyra turns to Bon Bon and back to you, but you just shrug. She nods slowly and stands up.

“Sure. Call me back in when you’re done.” Bon Bon smiles and dips her head, and as Lyra exits the room she turns to you.

“So how’s she doing?” She ask’s the question nonchalantly, but something about her posture tells you that this isn’t going to be just a quick chat.

“Not too bad. She doesn’t sleep very well, and she spends most of the time moping around the house, but I don’t do much either. I think she’s trying her best to hold it together. And I’m not sure how much longer she’ll manage to do so.”

“That’s what I’m worried about as well.” She takes a sip of the coffee provided by the hospital, and grimaces. “God that’s ghastly stuff. Look, I’m going to be very straightforward with you here. I know that you love her.”

Your cheeks flush red and you open your mouth, but Bon shushes you loudly. “Don’t look so embarrassed. It’s not that obvious, or at least not obvious enough that anyone else would find out. But I can tell. And I can also tell that, though she won’t admit it, she loves you too.”

You lean forwards in your seat. “What the hell do you mean.” You glare at Bon, upset that she could see so clearly how you felt towards Lyra, and more importantly, that she just called you out on it.

“Is there something that you don’t understand?”

“Well forgive me for coming across a bit angry but you just said that your girlfriend loves me! How the fuck does that make any sense? For Christ’s sake Bon do you understand how upset she is by all of this? And then you go and tell me she doesn’t love you?”

“I never said that.” Her voice is calm but powerful, and you sit back in your chair. “Lyra is a funny girl. She doesn’t really understand her own emotions, and what may be seen by her as teasing or mock flirting is actually genuine affection. The former of which she’s done quite a bit of with you.

And now that I know I’m not going to be around much longer, and now that we both know your feelings for Lyra, I’ve decided upon something. And it’s something that no one is going to dispute, and no one is going to be upset by.”

“And that is?” Your annoyance has been replaced by curiosity, anger replaced by relief.

“You’re going to take care of Lyra when I’m gone. And of course, by no means is that an order. But something tells me you’re not too bothered by the prospect.” She smirks at you, her eyes lit up with a mischievous look. Biting into a small pastry, she motions you closer.

As you approach the bed, without warning Bon pulls you into a hug, wrapping her arms around your neck and lower back. You squeeze back, taking care not to harm the fragile body under you. Pulling apart, she wipes crumbs from her mouth and breathes out through her nose.

“I need you to do this. For me. For you. But most importantly, for her. It’s not going to be easy. I know Lyra, and she’s going to do everything to push you away and keep me close. Or at least the memory of me. All you have to do is give her space when she needs it, be there for her when she needs you, and give her some tough love when she needs some. This is hardest on her.

And she’ll warm up to you. You guys are already pretty close, but what I’m saying is that she’ll come out of mourning if you get her out. And you can. So can you do this? For all of us?”

A tear forms in your eye, slipping out and rolling steadily down your cheek. Your eyes pass over the mare sitting in bed, her smile hiding the weakened spirit inside, cracked and gaunt. These days have been hard on her, and yet she’s doing everything she can to help others. This woman, who allowed a complete stranger, of a completely different species, into her house, into her family, and thought nothing of it. This woman who, when your life was torn from you, picked you up, dusted you off, and gave you a brand new one. Who is now fading from existence.

And still she comforts others with her last breaths.

Your voice breaks. “Of course I can. Of course.” Your shoulders shake and your hands shudder, but you make your way to the door and hold on to the handle. “Should I call Lyra?”

Bon Bon smiles. “Yeah. And, one last thing. I need a moment with her as well.”

You nod, your vision still blurred by tears. Opening the door and stepping out into the waiting room, you flick your wrist at Lyra. She comes hopping over, and you motion to the door. “Bon wants a word.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Lyra puts a hand to your face, wiping a tear from your cheek. You dip your head, mumbling out a “I’m fine” and softly pushing Lyra to the door.

“Go on. Don’t keep her waiting.”

The door shuts slowly as Lyra walks into the room, and you sit down on the soft leather sofa positioned in the corner of the room. Up above, the TV’s blare out sounds of adverts, news reports and soap operas, but you shut them out.

You’re going to take care of Lyra when I’m gone.

It wasn’t a question.

Author's Note:

I tried to take my time with this chapter considering its importance, but I still feel like it isn't quite what it should be. Still, hope you guys enjoy the much-delayed update, and hopefully I can get a bit faster with the chapters.