22: The Sentencing
Chapter 22
The Sentencing
The warm rays of sun had given me hope and inspired me, lifting my spirits in a moment of darkness. And yet, as I made my way through town, I could already feel the cold seeping back in around the edges. I'd never doubted Ironshod’s warning, but I had seriously underestimated how dramatic the change would be. The ponies who had once upon a time waved or smiled at me in greeting were now crossing the street to avoid me, purposefully looking anywhere else but at me. A little over thirty hours had passed since the event, and word seemed to have spread across the entirety of the town in that time.
Just as I'd been wondering how in the hell everypony had found out so quickly and what exactly it was that they’d heard, I found my answer. Discarded in a nearby trashcan, I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye. I pulled it out, and it was nothing less than the Ponyville Gazelle, the local newspaper. And what should I find on the front page but a picture of me? As soon as I laid eyes on the picture, it all clicked into place for me. The picture looked like a scene from a nightmare. Apparently, there had been a camera present during the attack. The entire front page of the paper was dedicated to this photo.
The photo looked like a poster for a horror movie. I stood over the battered form of Mocha, dark blood flowing from me in numerous rivulets. I was staring down at Mocha’s terrified and pitiful form, as it lay battered and bloody beneath me. And truly, it was pitiful. With the harsh illumination of the streetlight directly over my head, my shadow fell upon him, blanketing him in inky darkness. Even from within my shadow, the stream of tears flowing from his eyes glinted in the light. The single most damning thing about the pictures were the eyes. His were full of fear and pain, wide and wet in the night. My eyes… my eyes were full of rage and of glee. There was a gleam in my eyes that even I found a tad unsettling. The headline made me almost physically ill.
Local Hero’s Brutality
Suddenly, the way everypony was avoiding me seemed a lot more reasonable, though it hurt all the same. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t had breakfast yet, despite the fact that it was nearing noon. I set off for Daffodil’s, feeling like a good sandwich would really hit the spot. I walked in, and it might as well have been a scene from an old western movie as every single solitary pony stopped what they were doing to turn and watch me intently. Silence reigned in the diner.
No. No. I refuse to be intimidated or treated like an animal. I’m going to take a seat and eat like any other pony in this goddamned town.
Silently, and with the eyes of every pony in the diner following me, I made my way to a table in the far corner of the diner and took a seat. A murmur went through the crowd, and I couldn’t help but chuckle darkly to myself. Some dark and twisted part of me was pleased at the fear in their eyes, knowing that they’d seen what I was capable of. The rest of me quietly kicked that part of me into a corner. There was nothing fun about being feared and treated like a monster. The voices around me picked up gradually as a set of hooves approached my table. I looked up and did my best to smile warmly.
“Morning, Daffodil. How are you?”
She was caught off guard by my cheerful disposition, but not enough to break the aura of discomfort that hung around her like a cloak.
“Sir… uh, Dave. Why did you come here?”
That pissed me off in short order. I strained to maintain my smile and a cheery tone, though I was growing concerned about how much longer I could force it.
“Hmm? Oh, I just wanted to get the number four with a side of hay fries. Extra pickle, please.”
She clearly had not expected this, and blinked for a second in confusion as her mind skipped a beat. She came back quickly, though.
“After what you pulled the other day, you aren’t exactly good for business, or a pony that many ponies want to be around. Why’d you have to go and do such an awful thing, anyways?”
The diner had gotten silent as every ear turned my way. A pin dropping would have been deafening. With a long suffering sigh, I let my smile fade away, until my face was just as blank as I felt inside.
“Such an awful thing? I stood up and defended the honor of the mare I love. That brown idiot was insulting her and calling her some things you just don’t call a lady. I'd warned him about it before, but he just kept at it. Did the paper explain that he lied to four of his friends about me so that they would attack me? Or did it even mention that I was attacked by five ponies in the first place?”
“No, the paper said something very different. Said that you were the one who started it all, instigated the fight.”
I deadpanned at her, my expression perfectly incredulous. “Yeah, I started it. While surrounded. Makes perfect sense.”
“Okay, alright. I’ll give you that, it doesn’t sound very smart. But there’s no way to explain away what you did to Mocha. The pictures are all over the paper. You can’t tell me you didn’t do those terrible things.”
I sighed. “No, you’re right. I did that. I beat the snot out of the idiot who had made fun of the pony I love more than life itself, after he tried to convince his four friends to beat me to death by lying to them. And then ran away when they failed. I won’t lie to you, I did that. I was angry. No, I was more than angry. I was furious. I got carried away, and I beat the tar out of him. And honestly, I don’t regret it in the least. So the way I see it, it boils down to this question. Am I a monster for defending the honor of the one I love?”
Daffodil was visibly wrestling with the question, trying to talk her way around the answer she knew I was leading her to.
“Well…not really. Why you did what you did is reasonable, and even what most folks would consider right. But the way that you did it isn’t, not even close. What you did to that poor colt is terrible, even if he was a bully. And if you want the truth, Dave, a lot of ponies are scared of you because of it. You were a hero, and you always seemed to be around to lend a hoof when a pony needed it. That’s why this whole thing is like it is. Heroes are supposed to help… you were supposed to help. And that’s what’s so terrible here… you acted more like the villain than the hero, and a lot of ponies just don’t know how to feel about you anymore. And that article in the Gazelle didn’t do you any favor either.”
All around the silent diner, I could see ponies slowly nodding in agreement, most not even trying to hide the fact that they were eavesdropping. I could feel my resignation show upon my face, and I made eye contact with Daffodil. Her features softened into a mask of pity, and I could tell that she was sorry for the mess I was in, though she knew that it was my own fault. Her voice softened to match her face, and when she spoke up, it was with a motherly tone.
“Sugarcube, I know you’re a good pony. So do most of the other folk in town… you just need to give them time to remember it. It’s just that some of them might take longer than others to come around. A lot of ponies who looked up to you are disappointed that you can’t be the perfect pony they wanted you to be. But they’ll get over it soon enough, once they learn the truth. If I were you, I’d march straight to the Gazelle and set the record straight. Now that I think of it, Mocha’s got a cousin who’s married to the editor’s daughter’s roommate or something like that. If what you told me is true, and I can’t see why it wouldn’t be, then this whole story stinks to the moon and you need to do something about it.”
My faith in ponies had returned, if even just a little. The light at the end of the tunnel seemed closer than ever, and I could now see the way forward. A little bit of my hope spread across my face as I cracked a cautious smile.
“Thank you, Daffodil. I know I messed up and let a lot of ponies down, and I’m sorry for that. I’ll do what I can to make it better, but I know that it won’t be easy. I’ll head to the Gazelle right after I leave here to set the record straight. And, if he’s still in town, I have a friend I’d like to bring with me. But first… do you think I could get a sandwich?”
Daffodil smiled warmly at me, the first real smile I’d seen since I left the hospital. The other ponies in the diner had turned away from us, their conversations starting back up as Daffodil went to place my order. Though I was still getting the odd look now and again, they were generally curious stares instead of eyes watching for a sign that I was about to start on another rampage. My order came and was swiftly devoured, the taste of it barely registering on my tongue as it slid past. Just as I was wiping the mustard from the corner of my mouth, there arrived a single slice of Daffodil’s nearly famous apple pie, a small note on the plate beside it. I looked up at Daffodil questioningly, about to say that I hadn’t ordered any pie. The small smile on her face told me that it was a gift from somepony, though I couldn’t figure out who it was from. She set the pie on the table and left without a word, her smile speaking all that needed to be said.
I unfolded the note, wondering who it was from and hoping that the benefactor had signed it.
You’re still a hero to me.
Even as emotionally numb as I was, I could feel my eye begin to moisten at this gesture. I looked around the diner once more, hoping to spot a sign of the generous citizen, and again I found none. I savored the pie, relishing in each sweet caress of apple across my tongue. I paid my bill and left, intent on keeping my word about the Gazelle. The Gazelle was based out of a small factory style building near the edge of the town, positioned on the banks of a small river. The presses seemed to be powered by the river, as evidenced by the large water wheel. I made my way into the lobby of the building, which was little more than a reception desk and a few waiting benches. The arrangement was disconcertingly similar to Diamond’s, though much more brightly lit and sterile. Approaching the mare at the desk, I asked to speak with whoever was in charge of the newspaper, and that mare didn’t even look over her horn-rimmed glasses as she deflected my inquiry. Apparently, I was less interesting than the Sudoku she was working on.
“Sir, the Editor is a very busy mare. Unless you already have an appointment, you’ll have to schedule one and come back then.”
“Schedule a—I don’t have time for this. This paper ran a story about me the other day, which was based off of a complete lie. I need your Editor to hear my side and to check the official police report to get her facts straight. Then, I want her to issue an apology in the paper, along with the actual events, not some half-cocked hogwash story from a biased source.”
The receptionist proceeded to roll her eyes in a thoroughly bored fashion, something that began to rekindle that little fire in my belly. I quenched the fire as best I could, but it still smoldered. I was in an agitated emotional state, and likely would continue to be until things with Joy were resolved. At least I was able to recognize it and try to mitigate my rage before I did anything hasty. As the receptionist looked over the top of her glasses like a teacher about to explain simple math to a slow student, she froze. Perhaps she recognized me from the story the other day, or maybe my expression adequately conveyed that I was in no mood for her shenanigans. One way or the other, her next remark died on her lips as she fell silent for a second.
A second was all she needed to formulate her response, which was composed of a curt nod as she stood. Gesturing for me to follow her with a hoof, she promptly turned and made her way through a door to the left of the desk. A few twists and turns later, I was standing at a rather impressive wooden door with the word “Editor” emblazoned on a placard. The receptionist knocked thrice on the door and waited. An instant later a muffled reply sounded from within, and the receptionist pony cracked open the door and poked her head in. there was some form of brief conversation that ensued, but in short order I was being waved into the office to meet the Editor.
Little did I know that the Editor-in-Chief and owner of the paper was actually a flipping gazelle. I managed not to stare in shock at the foreign-yet-familiar shape before me as I was led into the office. The Editor’s name was Quill, and she quickly forbade me to call her “Q” for short.
“So, Sandy here tells me that you don’t like what I ran about you the other day. Not only that, but that you have the gall to come up here after what you’ve done and look me in the eye and demand an apology. How am I doing so far?”
I was a little surprised and a lot angry at this, but I did my best to hide it. Nevertheless, my response was a bit curter than I would have preferred.
“You’re wrong, Ma’am. I am not happy, that much is true; I did not, however, make a single demand. I merely stated that I wanted you to apologize, though I have no intention of trying to force you to do anything. All I ask is that you hear my side of the story as well, and then, you may do what you see fit with the new information.”
Quill looked at me for a moment, her face unreadable. She broke off her gaze to glance at a clock for a moment, once more resuming her gaze upon me.
“You have thirty seconds. Go.”
I thought something like this might happen, and so I’d been figuring out the simplest, most concise way to summarize the events of the night. Without a moment of hesitation, I flew right into it.
“My fiancé and I went on a hiatus that night, so I went to have a drink to calm my nerves. A few hours later I run into Mocha and his four friends, the four of whom Mocha had lied to in order to get them to attack me, to settle an old grudge against me. They attacked me five on one, and I took out four before Mocha ran like a filly. I caught him and broke his legs one by one. Then I was hit by a fruit cart, and woke up in the hospital. Time?”
Without even glancing at the clock, Quill replied. “Twenty five seconds. So, you claim that you only attacked the four of them in self-defense, but you admit to brutally attacking Mocha?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Well, yes. I was intoxicated and angry at him for insulting my fiancé, and more so for trying to kill me in a five-to-one brawl. I made a bad choice, but I stand by what I did without regret.”
Quill said nothing, she just kept panning over me with that same unreadable gaze. I was willing to bet she could make a killing playing poker. A few moments of tense silence passed before she spoke up again.
“To tell you the truth, I was ready to ignore everything you said when you first walked in here. I got the information for the story from a trusted reporter, one who has a flawless record for accuracy. That, coupled with the fact that I get about a dozen ponies a week who come up here asking for a redaction or apology, and you can see why I was ready to toss out whatever you might have had to say. Now, I’ll tell you why I didn’t. Of all the ponies that come in here, they all demand things, and they all try to spin a story like they are Celestia Herself and can do no wrong. You, on the other hoof, did not demand, you asked. What really sealed it for me though was your story. No pony in the last ten years has come up here and told me a thing that paints them in anything less than a perfect light. The fact that you not only admitted to but owned and defended your less-than-savory actions says more about your character than anything else."
The ghost of a smile danced across my lips. “Thank you. As I said, I’m not here to demand, as I realize that I’m in no position to make demands. I merely was hoping that you’d take my story with a grain of salt, which you’ve done far more graciously than I’d hoped, and investigate a little bit into the story. If you like, I can get you a copy of the police report from Sarge.”
“No, that’s not necessary. I have my ways, after all. Just know this… I will conduct this investigation myself to ensure that there is nothing overlooked. And, should I find something that should warrant action on behalf of this publication, that action will be taken swiftly and to the fullest extent necessary. To put it simply; if you’ve lied to me, everypony from Fillydelphia to Canterlot will know by the morning. If what you say is true, however, then I will publish an apology as well as the corrected version of the events. Both of these will be written by me personally. This is your last chance to stop this. Do you want me to investigate?”
I felt a surge of relief at the prospect of the real events being brought to light. Sure, they might not paint me as the glorious hero that ponies had made me out to be before, but at least I wouldn’t be the monster they thought I was now. I cracked a warm smile as I nodded.
“Then it’s settled. You’ll know what I find at the same time everypony else does… in the Monday paper. Until then, stay out of trouble, and may the Sun shine brightly upon you.”
I nodded and gave a slight bow of respect as I made my way out of the office. Soon afterwards, I was out of the building and basking in the sunlight. The warm feeling of hope was battling against a darker, deeper feeling of malaise as I tried not to think about what Joy must think of me right now. With only the newspaper to base her opinions off of, I could only imagine the myriad of feelings within her… not the least of which would be fear. But she knew I would never do anything to hurt her, right?
Right?
Other than lie to her face for half a year.
I sighed dejectedly, hanging my head in shame as I set off aimlessly into the forest. Well, this looked like it was going to be one of those days. To make it worse, I’d almost forgotten that I had to go to work in a few hours. Sighing in exasperation this time, I took to the air and set off for the one place that I’d always been able to find peace; the meadow under the oak.
Lacking the bed that had become my accustomed resting place, I sought and found a suitable alternative. The lone cloud was small enough not to be of any concern to the weather squad, but large enough to provide a place to nap. I’d come across the small, puffy thing as I neared the meadow, and I figured that this was as good a place as any to catch a few hours of sleep before my shift. I coasted up to it, momentarily dreading that I’d find a certain cyan pegasus lying there in my place, but finding none.
Soft, yet firm, and warmer than a cloud had any right to be, I wondered how I’d gotten along without it. The stress I’d been feeling had diminished somewhat as I flew through the air and indulged in a few aileron rolls and an inverted loop or two, but it vanished almost entirely as I snuggled down into the cloud. Double checking my alarm, I was asleep in mere moments. Fun fact: pegasi are essentially sunburn-proof, a conclusion that I’d come to after realizing I’d made the ill-informed decision to spend a half-day asleep on a cloud. I honestly didn’t even think about this until an hour had passed, and it only occurred to me as I noticed a little tenderness while adjusting my saddlebag. Thank Luna for small favors… the night would have sucked terribly if I’d been sunburnt.
In a few moments time, I was as ready as I’d ever be for the shift ahead, and set off to the market to get a quick bite of food for dinner before my shift. The moment I touched down in the market, I felt any residual warmth and happiness leave me. These ponies did not know the truth about what had happened, they only knew what the skewed article and nasty rumors had told them. Though it bugged me more than a little, I managed to push my annoyance into a corner of my mind with the knowledge that the morning paper would dispel most of the anxiety the other ponies harbored towards me. I bought some apples and a sandwich to tide me over through my shift before setting off into work.
The stigma that was present in the market had followed me into the workplace, dulled as it was by professional courtesy. It stung more to see the ponies I'd worked side-by-side with for several months avoiding me than it had to be ignored by the rest of the town. Buffy was the only pony who wasn’t avoiding me any more than usual, but she had other reasons for treating me as coldly as she did. I'd have to earn her respect back the hard way, a task far easier said than done. As fortune would have it, the night was a busy one, with nearly a dozen small repairs that had either been left over from the day shift or popped up during the night. Almost before I knew it, the shift was drawing to a close. I'd walked back into the office, a toolbox balanced upon my back, and almost tripped over Buffy. I was not expecting to find a pony sitting just inside the door like she was, and it caught me rather off guard.
I gave her a curt nod as I sidestepped, a gesture she returned in kind. I set down the toolbox before we engaged in the usual banter, and a moment later she was released for the evening. In the silence of the early morning, I was able to fill out the supply requests without any distractions. By the time I'd finished, my shift was effectively over. In less than thirty minutes time, I was walking out the door into the rays of the rising sun. Or at least, I tried to. I hadn’t made it more than two meters from the door before a dark shape swooped overhead and thudded to a stop in front of me. A grey shape, with wispy blonde hair and a warm smile.
“Morning, Dave! I have mail for you.”
I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiastic greeting. “Good morning to you as well, Derpy. Mail?”
“Yep. Two letters, to be exact. I have to get to the rest of my route now, but don’t be such a stranger. You’re always welcome to stop by, and especially so if you bring muffins. Have a good day!”
I took the pair of envelopes she held out to me, waving to her with a wing as she took to the skies again. I took a glance at the first envelope, noting with a bit of dread that it was from the clerk of the court. I slipped them both into my bag, resolving to open them both as soon as I was somewhere a bit more private. Though I was more than a little eager to open it and learn my fate, a rumbling in my stomach reminded me of more immediate needs. With a quick flap of my wings, I was airborne and on my way to Daffodil’s.
After getting a sandwich to go, I set off towards the meadow and the grand oak, wherein I'd stashed my cloud the night before. Much to my pleasure, I discovered that the little cloud was just where I'd left it and hadn't evaporated over the night. Cautiously, I lowered the sandwich bag on to the surface of the cloud, noting with displeasure that it passed right through. Of course it would. With a small sigh, I spread my wings and cradled the sandwich in the dusty brown plumage as I opened the first letter. It was just a notification that I had a court date at the town hall in exactly... Three hours? Well, it looked like I wasn't going to be getting my whole eight hours today.
I might have been a little concerned about the court date if not for a few subtle hints and factors in my favor. First, the correction and apology should have been published while I was on shift. That would go rather far to get the jurors on my side. Secondly, the summons was for a "community service and fine assessment", and contained no mention of confinement whatsoever. Between these two factors, I was feeling rather confident in myself and in the outcome of this whole debacle. To be honest, I was looking forward to having the whole thing behind me, nothing more than a bad memory. Taking a bite of the sandwich, I fetched the second letter from my saddle bag, scanning the return address.
What I saw made my heart race and my wings flutter involuntarily, which had the side effect of sending my partially eaten sandwich plummeting to the ground below. This was but an annoyance to me, barely registering in the back of my mind as it was overshadowed by the name on the return address.
Joy Redheart.
I found myself suddenly very shaky and out of breath, as if I had just flown around the town limits a half dozen times. My pulse was pounding as I tried in vain to steady my hooves, terribly fearful of ripping the contents of the envelope. With hooves that shook like an old stallion with a bad case of Parkinson's, I pried open the envelope and pulled out the letter within. The first sight of the elegant script sent a pang of desire and of pain straight to my heart. Doing my best to hold the paper steady enough to read, I blinked away the tears blurring my eyes as I began.
Dave,
Honestly, I'm not sure what to write here, not sure of what to write to you. I suppose I should start with the basics. I'm not mad at you, hard as it may be to believe. Even I was surprised by this at first, but I've come to understand why. I'm not mad at you for what you did, but I am very hurt by the way you did it. As much as I don't want to believe it, I can't help but feel like you used me. The fact that you waited until after we... You know... Well, it seems highly suspicious. I don't want to believe that you could do that to me, but I can't shake the doubt. And that scares me. A week ago, if somepony asked me how much I trusted you, I would tell them "with my life" without a second thought. Now, I don't know how to answer that. On the one hoof, I know you could never hurt me or allow me to come to harm. But on the other hoof, you just demonstrated that you can cause pain with your deeds alone.
I know why you did it, and I can even understand why you thought you should tell me when you did. The fact that I can see all of that makes it that much worse, because I can see that you didn't trust me like I trusted you. It's like you felt you needed some sort of leverage so that it would be harder for me to leave you. Honestly, that's what hurts the most. You betrayed my trust and tried to use my emotions against me... And most despicably, it worked. I miss you, every minute of every day. Everything I see reminds me of you, and it hurts each time I see your face, your smile in my mind. I miss you, but I don't want to. Because that's what you want me to do. I don't trust you like I did before, and until I have the time to come to terms with what you've done, it wouldn't be fair to either of us to so much as pretend that we were okay.
I'm hurt and disappointed in you for what you've done to us, the way you've made me doubt you like this. I didn't sleep at all on Friday, there was no way to close my eyes without seeing your smile. I spent the entire night wondering just how much I REALLY knew about you, and how much was a carefully fabricated lie. Saturday's paper just served to reinforce my doubts. That pony is not the pony I fell in love with. I guess the whole point of this letter is to tell you how I'm feeling, and to tell you that I haven't given up on you. I told you once that we would be together for a long time, as repayment for all of the shenanigans you've put me through. That hasn't changed. It's just... I need some time to accept everything and get my head around it. Things can never be just like they were before, but that's not exactly a bad thing. You haven't lost me, Dave... I just need some time and space. Just wait for me?
-Joy
I'd never felt so crushed and hopeful at the same time. Incredulous as I was that Joy could believe that I'd used her, I could see why she'd come to the conclusion... It made me sick to my stomach. And to add insult to injury, I couldn't even bury my pain with food, for my sandwich had been sent careening into the abyss earlier. I made a silent note to stop by the market on my way to the town hall so I could get another before the summons ran out. Checking my watch, I was unable to hide my displeasure. At this hour, there wasn't any sense in trying to take a nap, for I'd no sooner get to sleep than have to wake up and leave. Instead of teasing myself with the specter of sleep, I decided to head into town early to grab the paper and a bit to eat. Dragging myself to my hooves, I strode to the edge of the cloud and stepped off into the void beyond.
I settled in to a corner booth at Daffodil's, having placed my order at the counter on my way. My coffee came shortly after I'd taken my seat, for which I was immensely grateful. Carefully, almost reverently, I reached into my saddlebag and withdrew the daily paper. I hadn't so much as glanced at the front page yet, planning on saving the unveiling to savor over a hot cup of coffee. I was not disappointed. The headline proclaimed something to the effect of "a hero redeemed" or some such, and was adorned with the photo of me receiving the key to the city from the mayor so many months ago. True to her word, Quill had redacted her previous story and published the actual events, along with an apology. The article was an interesting read, containing testimony from, among others, Ironshod and Sarge. What really hit home the hardest was the closing argument.
The purpose of this article was not just to tell a story, but to right a wrong and redeem a hero. While Dave's actions reflect a level of brutality almost beyond fathom, the way that he was antagonized and attacked by superior numbers seemed to leave little other option. He was out to make an example out of a bully, and by the stars above, he did. I'm not saying you should forget his actions completely, but I'm also not saying that you should be afraid of him. Just do yourself a favor and don't go out of your way to antagonize him. Dave has proven himself time and time again to be a good pony, dedicated to helping others without a second thought. If anything, this just goes to show what happens when you push a good pony too far.
I nodded in satisfaction to myself, taking a hefty slug of my lukewarm coffee with a slight smile. At least I wouldn't be exiled or shunned anymore. Well, not by sensible ponies, at any rate. Breakfast came shortly after I finished my reading, and I wouldn't have been surprised in the least if Daffodil had the cook wait for me to finish the paper before putting the order up. This was the kind of service you just couldn't find anywhere but here in Ponyville. I ate my breakfast with much more poise than I knew I'd possessed, managing to savor the delectable diner fare as never before. By the time I'd finished my food and paid the bill, the time was approaching for me to make my way across to town hall and my meeting therein.
As I passed the denizens of the town, I took no small amount of pride in the way I was no longer being treated like a dangerous animal that had slipped its leash. All in all, between the food I'd savored and the level of civility being afforded to me by the other ponies, I was in rather good spirits upon my arrival at the town hall. Such good spirits, in fact, that I was able to pretend that I couldn't feel the ball of ice forming in my gut with each step. Yep, couldn't feel it at all...
I entered the town hall through the same museum I'd visited on my first day in town, though this brought me nothing but another icy stab of loss as I recalled happier times. Shaking my head, I made my way past the displays and up to the small window set beside a plain door. The older mare sitting behind the desk asked me for my name and appointment time in a curt and efficient manner before instructing me to take a seat and wait for my name to be called. Exhibiting a level of efficiency and timeliness that I'd never seen before in ANY government office, my name had been called by the time I'd sat down and selected a magazine to read. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves and slow my pulse, I drew myself to my hooves and advanced towards the door, which was being held open by a large bailiff pony.
A few turns later brought me into a small courtroom, where I was instructed to stand in line behind two other ponies as they waited for their turn at the dais. One after the other, they were brought forth, read their charges, and given the opportunity to defend themselves and their actions. One was charged with theft, for eating a bagel from a display without paying for it. He was given a fifty-bit fine and sent on his way. The next was charged with vandalism of the town hall, to which he pleaded guilty and was fined two hundred bits and forty hours of community service. Finally, it was my time behind the dais.
I stepped forward to the podium, finally able to take in my surroundings. The mare behind the podium was none other than the Mayor herself, the very same pony that had given me the key to the city. Aside from the bailiff to her left and the ponies to my rear, the courtroom was pretty well deserted. It made sense when I thought about it, since this was more or less a reading, it didn't require a jury. The judge scanned her notes briefly, her eyebrow rising in interest as she reviewed the details of the case. After a moment of tense silence passed, the judge looked up at me with an expression that I couldn't quite place as she addressed me.
"So, Mister Dave. Are you aware of the charges against you, or should I read them off to you?"
"Yes, your Honor; I am aware of the charges against me."
"What do you have to say in your defense?"
"Your Honor, I'm not going to waste your time or insult your intelligence with some half-cocked excuse. I was attacked, I was angry, and I handled it poorly by seeking revenge. I trust that my actions for the last half year speak for themselves about my character, and I trust in your judgment as to the proper punishment for my crime."
"Brave words from one in your position. Are you aware of the maximum penalty for what you've just admitted to?"
I could feel my false bravado slipping. "No, your Honor, I am not."
"Perhaps you should have looked into that before you threw yourself at my mercy. In certain cases, where the offender displayed a clear disregard for the life and welfare of another pony; specifically by causing through either their actions or inaction the victim to become permanently crippled or lame, the charge of aggravated battery can carry a maximum penalty of ten years in prison. Do you agree or disagree that your actions could objectively fit these stipulations?"
I could feel the icy ball of terror growing in my gut. My mouth was suddenly as dry as cotton, and a cold sweat broke out on my brow. I was beginning to think I'd made a terrible mistake.
"I agree, your Honor."
"So, you can see the position you've forced me into. While you have certainly established a reputation for being a good, honest, and hard-working pony, you've also perpetrated the single most brutal assault on another pony that has ever been documented in Ponyville. It would be a complete abuse of the citizen's trust in my position if I were to let you off easy for your crime. And at the same time, it would also be a great disservice to the ponies of this town to send their folk hero to prison; though, this is admittedly the lesser of two evils. I think you are intelligent enough to see where this is going."
My heart was pounding in my ears, as I fought to keep my cool. In the back of my mind, I wondered how far I could fly before I was tracked down. Immediately, the thought of abandoning Joy and running like a coward was smashed with an iron hoof. I would own up to my crime and accept my punishment with dignity, regardless of the price. The last thing that I wanted was for Joy's last impression of me to be one of a cowardly pony, on the run from justice. With a rattling exhalation, I made eye contact with the judge and gave a slight nod.
"Speak up, Dave. I do not speak in nods. Do you see how you've forced my hoof?"
I did my best to maintain a neutral expression, to not let my fear show through, but my cracking voice betrayed me.
"Y-yes, your Honor. I do."
"Very well, then. It is with a heavy heart that I sentence you to ten years in federal prison, a five-thousand bit fine, and two hundred and forty hours of community service. Your confinement will be suspended for a probationary period of two years. If, at the end of this probationary period you haven't received anything more than a minor citation, the sentence of imprisonment will be declared null and void. Should you receive anything more than a minor citation in that time, however, you will immediately be arrested and sent to prison to begin your sentence. As for the fines and the community service, both must be paid within one year of today's date. Failure to do so will constitute a violation of the terms of your probation and will send you straight to prison. Do you understand and accept this ruling?"
I barely heard the judge's words over the roar of my blood in my ears, and at the mention of prison I felt my knees get weak. I managed to keep my composure though, and a mixture of dread and relief flooded me. I began to nod in response, but I caught myself.
"Yes, your Honor. Yes I do."
"Very well. Barring any further commentary, you are dismissed. You must report to the clerk to fill out some paperwork, and then you are free to go."
"Thank you, your Honor."
And just like that, I'd traded one axe hanging over my neck for another. The next few hours passed in a blur as my mind reeled with the implications of the ruling. Flashes of paperwork intermingled with splotches of sunshine and pony's blurry faces. Time seemed to be a stream moving my without me, nothing more than a blur of colors and impressions devoid of purpose or context. In the blink of an eye, reality snapped back into focus, like an elastic band that had been stretched too far. I was almost painfully aware of everything around me, and in an instant I'd come to a few conclusions. First, I was on top of my cloud, high above the town. Secondly, I was in danger of being late for my shift. And finally, I became fully aware that I hadn't eaten or slept all day, and that I was going to be paying for it that night. With a beleaguered sigh, I threw myself off of the side of the cloud and set a course for the hospital.
Though I was running dangerously close to not being early, I made a judgment call to swing by the market and buy whatever was fast and cheap. I ended up with a half dozen apples and a loaf of bread, which I concluded was far and away better than not eating at all. Tucking the produce into my saddlebags on-the-fly, as it were, was a bit difficult at first, but I managed to complete the task without crashing into anything. Suddenly, I had a much greater respect for the mail ponies who did this all day, every day. Thanks to my detour, I arrived later than I intended to, though still early for my shift.
That night passed as normally as one could hope for, without any sudden emergencies or other drama manifesting itself over the course of my shift. Buffy still held a grudge against me for hitting the sauce the other day, but bit by bit, she was warming up to me again. At shift change, I conducted my change over with the oncoming shift and then quickly made myself scarce, lest somepony accost me between the end of my shift and the cloud that had been beckoning me all night. In spite of the liberties I'd taken with the coffee maker in the janitorial dungeon, I found myself fighting to stay awake as I flew to my cloud. No sooner had my head hit the cloud than I had lapsed into a deep sleep; too deep even for dreams.
I was roused from the sleep of the dead by a strange taste in my mouth, along with a very pronounced dryness of said orifice. As I brought up a hoof to wipe away the drool from the corner of my mouth, I discovered the cause of this. While I was asleep on my cloud, not harming anypony at all, somepony had tried to deliver a letter to me. And it would seem that, lacking a mailbox on my little cloud, my open mouth was the next best place in which to stuff the letter. Go figure. I spat out the letter, cramming it into my saddlebag to read later as I checked my watch to see if I could get some more sleep or not. With a groan, I concluded that while I could get back to sleep, it really wouldn’t do me any good at all. Not like I really needed that extra hour… I was again reminded of my dry mouth, and with a sigh of resignation, I once more stepped off the edge of the cloud to make my way into town.
Half an hour’s time found me at Berry’s, customary beverage in hoof. I'd just gotten the last punch on my fourth card, entitling me to a fourth free smoothie per month. As I nestled myself into the little niche of Berry’s café that had become my customary position, I recalled the letter from earlier, lying nearly forgotten in the corner of my saddlebag. Pulling it out and smoothing out the wrinkles, my heart skipped a beat or five. There in my hoof, marred by drool and creases, was another letter from Joy. Trembling, I opened the letter as carefully as I could.
Dave,
I wanted you to know that I still miss you, perhaps more than I initially realized. Aside from that, I’ve also begun to accept the things you’ve told me and why you did what you did. Coming to terms with this has been… painful, to say the least, but I think it was for the better. If you’ll still have me, I want you to come back. Can you come home on Friday? I still have a thing or two I need to work on, but I can’t stand to be away from you that long. I guess… well, you know things will be different when you come back. The trust we had has been shaken to the very foundations, and it will take time to build back up. But that, I believe, is something that we must do together.
As much as I hate to do this, my heart will have it no other way. If you want to come back to me, I have but one condition. Please, no more lies, no more secrets. Please? I can’t do this again, Dave. Please, don’t do this to me again. If you will take me back I am yours for the taking, but only if you swear to me that there will be no more lies or secrets kept between us. If you want me, you can find me beside the fountain in the town center Friday morning. I’ll be waiting for you. I still love you, even though it hurts sometimes.
-Joy.
My heart had been fluttering, like a bird in a cage, all the way up to the last sentence. As I read the words on the page, the bird in my chest died mid-flight, plummeting like a stone to the very pit of my soul.
Dear Luna, what have I done?
Though I'd known that this would be hard on Joy, it was right then that it really hit me how deeply I'd wounded her. She loved me, and that she loved me… hurt her? For the first time in many months, and with a sharpness that cut me to the quick, I was once more aware that I didn’t deserve Joy and her love at all. Nor did she deserve a pony so loathsome as I. And yet, by the Gods' twisted humors, we found ourselves inextricably drawn together as our destinies intertwined. This feeling of inadequacy was followed by the feeling that always followed it, the incredible, maddening desire to be a pony worthy of her love. To do better, if not for myself, then for her.
I would do better. I had to be better… for Joy.
The hours passed at a crawl, each second dragging on into an infernal eternity. And yet, the hours seemed to fly by at the same time they crawled. Time had become a plaything for some cosmic force, being sped up and dragged down at the whims of one unseen. The whole of my life had coalesced in the hands of a clock, the only thing that truly mattered was their progression towards a specific point on the dial. The only thing that mattered was Joy. I did my duties with detached efficiency, my hooves carrying out their tasks autonomously as my mind wrapped itself around the numbered dial. Eating, sleeping, filling out order forms and work orders… each served as a servant of tedium, each doing their own part to mask the march of time. At last, just when it seemed that my mind was on the verge of failing me, the hands of the clock struck home. I don’t think I actually ran out of the clinic, but there are more than a few ponies who beg to differ. This was inconsequential to me, however. I had someplace to be, and a very lovely and very hurt mare who was counting on me.
As I took to the sky, I could feel my wings straining against the bone and sinew to push me faster, to propel me into the arms of my lover even a tiny bit quicker. The landscape blurred and distorted itself around me as I sped through town, flying as fast as I'd ever flown before. A glint of sunlight on water, the barest glimpse of the designated meeting place. I immediately flared my wings to their fullest, scooping great masses of air as I decelerated to a stop. My arrival in the square was marked by a series of whirlwinds as my wings beat furiously to slow me, the effects of which drew more than a few discontented exclamations as I came to rest beside the fountain. The other ponies in the plaza faded away into nothing as I caught sight of the most wonderful shade of blue I'd ever seen. Joy sat there on the bench, eyes red and puffy, and a crumpled hoof kerchief in her hoof. We locked eyes, and I moved towards her, as if in a dream.
Everything I'd dreamt of for the last week was just in front of me, and it was almost overwhelming. I half entertained the notion that I was dreaming, and the fact that my legs seemed to be moving through molasses seemed to support this. I felt the hot sting of tears slipping down my face as we drew to within a meter of each other, stopping to regard one another for a moment. Joy’s coat was matted beneath her eyes, the tracks of tears shed still glistening wetly. A fresh tear slipped out of her eye as she looked me over, her mouth parting slightly as her emotion-choked voice spoke to me from a dream.
“… Dave… “
I found that my own voice was cracked and raw with emotion, though I wasn’t sure how or why. Even so, I found a lovely word escaping my lips, un-beckoned.
“… Joy… “
And with that, the funk holding me in place broke away, and I was able to move. In one swift motion, I stepped forward and swept Joy into a tight embrace, one that she immediately returned. Any pretense I had of being in control of my emotions was laid to rest as I wept openly. I cried tears of relief, of sorrow, and of joy. I cried for the love I'd regained, for the pain I'd caused, and out of pure happiness to be in the arms of my beloved again. She too wept, and I’m sure we were quite the sight to see, standing in the plaza as we were. I could care less how we looked to other ponies, and they, thank Luna, had the good sense not to interfere with our emotional reunion. We’d been apart for less than a week, but I knew that I never wanted to be apart that long ever again. Joy and I were babbling back and forth about how much we missed each other and whatnot, and we eventually managed to get control of ourselves again.
Joy made the suggestion that we head home, an idea that caused butterflies in my stomach. I found it strange and wonderful to think that I once again had a “home” to go to. It also occurred to me how severely I'd taken it for granted, having a place to sleep, a place to shower, and ponies that fed me. Most of all, I realized how much I truly loved being held by Joy. A half an hour’s time found us sitting atop the bed that was once again mine, myself being freshly showered at Joy’s insistence. In the time since our reunion in the plaza, the both of us had managed to get our emotions more or less in check, and Joy was in the process of laying down the “ground rules”, as she put it.
“First, last, and always: No more lies, no more secrets. Okay?”
I nodded vigorously. “I swear, my love.”
“Lovely! Secondly, for obvious reasons, intimacy is on hiatus until further notice. I know it was just terrible timing on your part, but I don’t want there to be any ulterior motives influencing your decisions, okay?”
“Of course, love. It’s not such a big deal to me, as you may have noticed.”
“I have, believe me. And finally, there’s this. No more alcohol, of any kind, until I say so. I read about what happened that night between you and Mocha, and I couldn’t help but notice that alcohol was listed as a major factor. I don’t want to take any more chances, so alcohol is off limits. Deal?”
I fought down my disappointment at this, seeing as it was a small price to pay to have Joy back in my life again. “Awww… oh well. If this is what it takes to show you that I’m serious, the so be it. Not a drop.”
“Okay… okay. Good, we’re off to a good start. Now, what happened in this last week that I should know about?”
“Oh… well, you see… what had happened was… “
In short order, I'd filled her in on everything that had happened, from sleeping in a cloud to the conditions of my probation. As I explained the way my crime had been bumped up a category in severity, Joy’s eyes went wide when I mentioned the prison term.
“T-ten years? That’s outrageous! Sure, you crippled the poor idiot, but… he asked for it! He brought it upon himself!”
I waved a hoof, dismissively. “No, I can see why it has to be this way. I should have known better, should have stopped myself. But I didn’t. And if the Judge didn’t throw the book at me like that, she’d be setting the precedent for the next pony to get off lightly as well.”
“I see what you’re saying, but it still seems ridiculous to me. Ten years, over a fight… “
I shrugged. “It’s only ten years if I get into trouble again. Which I won’t.”
Joy looked at me with a haunted stare. “I know you’ll be on your best behavior… I just worry about what could happen in two years.”
I reached out and placed my hoof atop hers. “I know you’re worried, love. I’ll just need to make sure that I keep myself out of those sort of situations. I made a promise to myself today… I swore to myself that I would be a better pony, to be more like the pony you deserve. I’ve got a long way to go for that, but at least I’ve started the journey, you know?”
“Be a better pony? Dave, you are an amazing pony! You aren’t without your flaws, and some of them are… well, they’re downright scary sometimes… but the fact that you put them behind you every day to be such a wonderful pony to so many others just says that much more about your character.”
I blushed a bit at the unexpected compliment. “I… well… thank you, I suppose. I wish I could see myself through your eyes… all I see when I look at myself is a pony with too many flaws, a pony who hurts the ones he loves. I see a pony who needs to be better.”
Joy just looked at me with a saddened gaze, as one might look at a child with Downs’ syndrome who wants to be an astronaut. You wish with all of your heart and soul for them to live up to their dreams, all the while knowing that their very nature will make it all but impossible.
No. Impossible? Impossible was being torn from your own universe and flung into another. Impossible was finding a love that made the sun shine like something they made in their shed, just for you. Impossible? I was living the impossible. And I could do, would do the impossible. I would be a pony worthy of the love bestowed upon me, or die trying.
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2439769 It's Kung Pow: Enter The Fist. The Movie starring and directed by Steve Oedekerk. I have it on DVD
Awsome job on the story.
Four days working nearly open to close. Two entire days of car travel bracketing a funeral. Fours days working nearly open to close after our store's staffing is nearly cut in half, and just in time for one of our biggest sales of the year. I'm so tired that I can barely think straight.
And yet when I hit refresh I still decided that sleep was less important.
One - Ponies seem awefully accepting of Dave's brutality. Maybe I'm wrong about us humans, but the ponies seem to be less disturbed than even most humans would be.
Two - And you still somehow haven't gotten around to posting the conversation where Joy really gets to learn about Dave's true past self.
Anyways. I'll sleep when I die. Off I go.
*dies*
Another wonderful chapter
Ten years? Am I a bad person for wanting him to get sent down? That would've been an awesome story arc, Joy trying to figure out ways to break him out!!
And nothing is impossible, just improbable.
2459521
Thank you, I do my best. I'm just happy to see it's appreciated.
2459538
Your dedication exceeds my own. And while it is a bit shocking, you only really hear about the one side of the story. You aren't seeing the conversations behind closed doors. Also, one should not underestimate the power of journalism. The second article was meant to portray him as a folk hero pushed too far, though I might not have properly conveyed that as well as I wanted to. And what exactly about Dave's true past self is left to reveal?
2459553
Thank you, I do try my best.
2459662
This is an interesting idea...one that may yet be implemented. After all, two years is a long time not to mess up. That's all I'll say on that, however.
2459538
Read the lyrics.
I foresee Technia getting Dave's pay at the hospital while he's imprisoned.
2459538 Have a happy afterlife.
2459662 For two years, Dave shall attempt shenanigans as much as possible, thus accidentally getting Joy addicted to said shenanigans. Once he's in prison, the best method to break him out involves one crazy grey and red unicorn mare on a Wednesday. And Joy might be delusional enough to send that mare somewhat regularly (shenanigan addiction after all). No guarantee that Dave would go along with the breakout though, if his behavior is anything to go by. Heck, his presence might be seen as a liability and that would get him out early.
There is absolutely NO WAY he can have no more than a citation for 2 years. Absolutely no way. He should at least try to appeal that sentence. He will have more heads I win, tails you lose situations than one can fathom and it will send him away.
The pony pen is not my idea of a good time in equestria.
2459717
Dave only confessed to not being a pony, so Joy knows a scant handful of things about where he came from. I'm expecting at some point there will be a long conversation about where he's from, what it's like, who his larger family was, who he knew, what he did/liked to do, history, technology, etc. etc. Anything and everything she can think of about this non-Equestrian world. Even if you just mention it in passing, it's a conversation that I would expect anyone in the know to want to have. I'm surprised Luna has done more digging in to this alien creature out of sheer curiosity.
2459792
Indubitably.
2459823
This was a good way to start the day. And very true, besides.
2459888 She's already addicted to his shenanigans. And honestly, I am a bit surprised that nobody seems to thing Dave can go two years without a serious mess-up. Oh, ye of little faith...you're probably right, but have faith nonetheless.
2460479
Refer to above comment, about not having faith and what not. And the pony pen sounds like an adult club more than anything, which come to think of it, would be a very amusing way to spend ten years.
2460684
Ah, I see. Actually, this was already being written for the next chapter (the chapter in which I break a quarter million words on the story).
2461025
It is not a lack of faith in Dave -- far from it, it is actually an abundance of faith in Dave.
What it is, however is faith in Dave's enemies. Sometime somepony is going to give Dave a sadistic choice. Save some innocent pony and break your parole, or sit back and watch and not be able to live with yourself.
2461155
The good ole catch-22. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.
so much down arrow. the author has no understanding of law at all- the kangaroo court seems set to screw over the human. what the newspaper did is Libel, a criminal offense. and as for the judge... thats downright draconian. what about appeals? what about lawyers?
i cant read this story anymore. its obvious that the only 'plot' is the human getting screwed over.
2461722
As a maximum penalty for attempted murder, is ten years excessive? I do not claim to be a lawyer (or have any sort of legal expertise) but it seemed like a harsh, yet reasonable punishment. And is it draconian to make an example out of somepony to discourage any others who might try the same? I've seen far harsher things in real life in the army. For instance, a soldier was found to have a personal electronic device on their person in a mock-classified area (it wasn't actually a sensitive area), and they were reduced in rank from E-4 to E-1, forfeited half a month's pay for two months, confined to post for 45 days and put on extra duty for 45 days. Granted, I don't know the whole story, but it still seemed unduly harsh.
Might I ask you for suggestions on how to possible improve the part you disagree with? I'd love to get feedback on things I could improve on.
the real problem here as i see it- he had very little notice of the trial date in advance, no lawyer... and i dont think he was ever told his rights. the issue is not the possible sentence, but rather HOW he received that sentence.
plus, military will always be harsher than civilian. they have to be held to a higher standard, as they get the guns.
also, we dont see what the charges really are- your having the character shoot himself in the foot with stupidity (repeatedly), and thats why i cant read it- idiot ball for purpose of plot advancement.
also, where did it ever say attempted murder? he did aggravated assault at worst.
2462579
It was originally attempted murder due to the brutality, but was downgraded to aggravated battery. Sarge told him of the charges when he was getting the statements. And from what I understand, you don't have a lawyer when you are read the charges, but you have the option to consult one if you choose to fight it. At least, that's how it was for me all those years ago. He didn't see the need to consult a lawyer due to the wording on the summons, EG that this was to be assessed a fine and community service, with no mention of prison at all.
Even so, I thank you for your insight on this. I hope that you'll stick around for a bit and not let a bad chapter sour you on the whole story.
I'm a little confused
Is Dave going to jail for ten years in 2 years time, or is the prison only if he gets into trouble again?
2465268
Only prison if he gets in trouble again.
well i must say, i've spent the last couple days reading your story and
it exellent and worthy of a Fav, keep up the good work
2483718
Well, he's married and had a kid at the age of twenty one. He's part of the army, not the secret service. And with all of the bills associated with having a child, it isn't unreasonable that a four hundred dollar per month motorcycle payment would cause certain issues to arise when coupled with other extraneous bills. Being reckless at the age of twenty one is not uncommon, especially for males. And love works in strange ways. If you'd been in an unhappy marriage and suddenly were whisked away to a wonderful land (with no way to return) and met a lovely partner, would you not do the same? Granted, he rushed a bit, but in time, most would do the same.
The time line in this chapter has me a little confused. Joy said to meet on Friday, the revamped newspaper article came out Monday, by my math, Dave met Joy on Thursday. I get this calculation by how you really like to stick to mentioning Dave going to work. Past that, I feel it is unfair to Joy to continue the relationship if, in two years, Dave goes to prison for 10 years.
2497087
I skipped one day of Dave going to work, due tohis obsessive clock watching and slight mental slip. The ten year thing is only if he messes up while on probation, otherwise he's free.
2497259
It sounded as if he was on 2 year probation then 10 years in Federal Prison. If he messed up in the first year he would go straight to the slammer.
2499949
The two years probation is his chance to prove that he doesn't deserve ten years in prison. If all goes well, he'll never see jail time.
2502968
"If all goes well he'll never see jail time."
"If all goes well"
Yeah, he's screwed. So back to my original point, it seems pretty unfair to be in relationship if he is just going to go to prison.
2503101
You might be surprised. We'll see.
2503274
Well, we'll see, you'll yank us around by our chains.
2503324
You know me so well... :D
2503752
The question is, does this make me more immune to your yankings. Cause I was around before this story lost its "Tragedy" tag. (It did have one right, I'm not going insane, I think.)
2503766
If you feel brave, and want to see the REAL twist the one that gave this the tragedy tag in the first place, let me know. I'll post a link to the original ending.
2503802
Want me to just PM you or something? Cause I have read some surprisingly depressing stuff on this site, considering the subject matter is pastel colored, talking ponies.
2504459
Sure, sounds good. And this one is dark, and not for the usual reason. The sadness here is nearly palpable, and thus is the reason why I do not drink in excess and write while angry. Enjoy.
I am really glad this has updated! I had you added on Facebook but cant find you anymore. Can we add one another again?
2507010
Sure. Kick me an email and I'll send you the Facebook I actually use... Sorry about that.
2519724
Huh. You're right, I never thought about the sitting position incongruity. I need to fix that. Thanks for bringing it up.
And while I did know about the way equine hind legs are jointed, I write it this way partly because I wasn't thinking about anatomy, and partly because of the visceral images it conjured.
25253
Heh. Hehehe. That might be his special ability, only unlockable with booze and rage...
2589203
First, thank you for your feedback; I thrive on it as an author. And now, a word from the author.
Oh, there will be very much more shenanigans in the future, and heart ache in spades. You're right in that there is much left unsaid about Dave's past, and that shall contribute a bit to the ache.
I've been taking a break from this story for a while now as I pursue other avenues of thought, trying to explore new realms of thought. I felt like I was getting burned out on this story, so I've taken a step back from this story to get some fresh air. As I've let my mind wander into places that most of us try to avoid, I've discovered a knack for confronting the uncomfortable and painful facts of life without being consumed by them. For my case in point, just turn to my story about a receptionist. This manner of confronting the painful head-on will be the focal point of act two, as we watch lives destroyed and torn apart by the cruel whim of fate. The happiness that has been present throughout the story will continue to be a pillar of the story, but it will be thoroughly counterweighted. After all, life can't always be happy.
Aaaaaaand wow. Dave had quite the slide in this arc! I mean, I knew something big was no doubt brewing, but good gravy!
Right down the slippery slope to the depths of the canyon of despair. I think some man tears were shed this past few chapters... 
Now he's got to climb his way out of this huge hole he's dug himself, and he's definitely got his work cut out for him. Gonna be very interesting to see how he goes about trying to repair his burned bridges on this one--especially if circumstances keep trying to interfere, as I have a feeling they might.
I can almost picture things like him trying to meet her somewhere to do something special for Joy only for an emergency to come up at the clinic and her missing whatever he had planned without advance notice, making it look like she stood him up. That would be a kick in the feels, at least until she had the chance to explain, and then it would still hurt that all that work was ruined. Also... Dawn's no-doubt privy to all of this... I can only imagine the talk she's going to have with Dave over this. Something tells me there's going to be quite a bit of tension there for awhile--possibly even open animosity and attempts to convince Joy to look elsewhere--and that tension would probably drag on Joy substantially. Poor mare...
I'm expecting quite a lot of stress in the future over this. That fallout definitely isn't finished falling yet. Good luck, Dave and Joy. You're really going to need it to weather this storm...
2594051
Most of what you said will come into play very soon, as I begin to wrap up this story arc with a neat little bow of cliffhanger.
2589366
Yeah, it's always nice when readers take the time to leave feedback on your stories. I know from my past experiences, I always get really giddy when I receive notifications about someone commenting (or in my case, reviewing on FFN)!
I also understand the need to take a break from a story to refresh the mind a bit and get some fresh ideas. On that note, I wish you good luck and good inspiration! I'm willing to wait as long as it takes to find out what happens next! In the meantime, I think I'll be going back and reading this story a second time.
Also, thanks for pointing me in the direction of My Life as a Receptionist in the Afterlife. That had some very deep emotional concepts in there. Definitely was worth the read!
2594459
And I'll be very interested to see what you've got in store for us as this arc continues! Best of luck, mate!
2659581
With two more likes, it can be first...
If you rule out all the impossible, then no matter how improbable, what is left is the truth.
It would seem that a significant portion of this chapter is missing... how did I not notice this before?
2760369
Hoo Boy, are you in for a ride. It gets better from here.
2774470
I'm glad you are enjoying it, and I think you'll find that it only gets better from here. With luck, booze, and determination, there will be more.
Whooo boy its been a long... *checks last comment* .... TWO DAYS!!!!
Holy hell...
Anyways, so yeah, great story! I honestly was glued to the monitor the whole time so congratulations. I've also seen the story going in the negative emotional turn recently and that made me sad
But I can kinda see where this was necessary. I'll be very interested to see what comes out for your next chapter! 
Well I finally got around to finishing chapter's 1 to 22 and I have to say my friend was right to force me to spend my spare time at work and last night to finish the last ten or so chapters... it blew me away.
Dave's/Your moronic understanding of how things work actually... works, believe it or not. I honestly didn't see the violence coming and am glad I'm one of those people who read the story from cover to cover, grisly and uncomfortable bits to boot so that I can get the story as it was originally intended and not the softy revision. I'm a bit disappointed in Joy for even allowing the idea of being used for sex, while it's never really touched upon, Dave was tearing himself up for most of the damn story about skirting the truth with her and he even insisted they not do anything until the time is right, if that's not someone who wasn't out to get laid overnight then I dunno what defines that.
I found myself comparing myself to Dave frequently, to you. My moral compass is also very strong to the point of it rarely getting muddled, and while I lack the training to do some of the things Dave did, I know that I am a very resilient person, probably more so than Dave. I suffer clinical depression and fight it on a daily basis and I've seen the highest of highs and the lowest of lows.
Your brutal honesty about who you are is liberating, it's a nice breath of fresh air in a storm of boring old sameness, so I want to mirror that trait you have.
When I was seventeen I was having a life crisis, I was hopelessly in love with someone who lived in another country, the USA to be precise, and my grade began to slip due to my inability to concentrate properly on the here and now and not the issues that this girl was having of her own that I was powerless to do anything about. I left mid year, a few weeks before my eighteenth birthday and began looking for work, which was hard considering my parents had never bothered to help me get photo ID or anything nor were either willing to help me look for a job.
My mother walks into my room one morning the week before my birthday and accuses me of being a leech, sitting there on my computer and doing nothing about getting a job. I tried to explain to her that everything is applied for online, that hand given resumes are usually tossed into a bin by the staff that receives them. But she wouldn't have any of it. Later on that day, my grandmother came to visit and I told her what had happened in private, she asked me what else I thought I could do to fix the situation and I suggested returning to High School despite my reluctance to do so. I guess it was the courage to face something that seemed too difficult that drove my grandmother to admire me from then on. We went out to tell my mother and she sat down over a cup of tea to discuss it, suggesting I go to the high school my younger brother attended... I said that would be fine, a fresh start would do a world of good and help keep me from getting distracted (which it did, more on that later)
It was just after agreeing that this would be a good idea that my world and life changed forever. My mother leaned across the table and fixed me with a stare and said something no parent should ever say to their depressed child. "But if you fuck it up for your brother, I'll disown you." and the tone she used spoke volumes more than the words that came forth. She meant it and I still haven't forgiven her for it either and I don't think I ever can. I was in tears that she'd even consider that I'd do such a thing.
My father was just as bad if not worse, he sat by and let my mother abuse me like this, never lifting a finger to stop the abuse or to call her the hypocrite she is. My mother hasn't worked a day in her life in a job that wasn't handed to her on a silver platter only for her to leave the job a month after starting and I'd said as much to her in a fight the week after my birthday after calling her several choice phrases I won't repeat.
I had a rough time after this, I lived with my aunt for a period, getting my first job and a taste for independence, having to pay bills, etc. Then I had to leave the house and the job when my uncle got drunk and abusive and I found out that he was having an affair with my mother, I couldn't sleep in the same house as him, I'd been up for three nights when I finally called my grandmother and told her and she had ordered a priority taxi for me. I'd packed my meager belongings and stuffed them into the back of this yellow SUV and been swept away to my grandmother's abode.
Life start to get better after that, I had stability and I quickly got a new job at KFC as a cook, which lead to me six months later to becoming an "All Star" a staff member with the skills of both Customer Service and Food Service but also the ability to lead and manage. I decided not to take on a managerial role simply because I was better use being lead and training other kids than I was running the place. After a year of that I reorganized my shifts and started part-time study at RMIT university to finish my VCE from High School. I had a falling out with the love of my life during this year, it was explosive... destructive and left me wheeling. But I managed to slug through school and score those papers declaring I was educated by the end of the year... only to find out that a girl I'd took on a date and was seeing periodically was pregnant.
*sigh* I won't deny that I made a grievous mistake that year, a rebound relationship and all... but when I dated this new girl and she and I engaged in sexual activities, I had inquired as to whether she was on the pill, she had informed me that she was and I'd assumed all was fine, I even used protection of my own. When I found out the news that I was going to be a father I was many things, outraged, confused, terrified, betrayed... and delighted. From day one I decided that the little child I was helping bring into this world would get all the love from me that my parents never gave to myself during my childhood.
March 7th came around, 2012. I was awake from 02:00 to 05:00 before falling unconscious and waking 07:00 to be there with this girl as she gave birth to our baby. At the time I was 20 years old and I was ready to give it my all, to be the best father I could be, to outshine my own parents by doing everything they hadn't and going beyond what was expected of me. I named my daughter Melodee and she was and... even now still is the world to me. But things never go as you plan do they?
It became rapidly apparent that Melodee's mother was not in this for the joy of it, she distanced herself immediately from Melodee and refused to feed our baby. I grew distressed to the point that I begged the mid wives to prepare a bottle of formula. I fed Melodee myself, I was the first to do it and I bonded with this bundle of joy that sucked the world away from around me and made nothing else matter. I was the first to change her, to dress her and to bath her. I carried her out of the hospital, I set her in her car seat, I carried her inside, I tucked her in at night... gave her a kiss every night.
Five months later, Melodee was progressing well, we had a few scares along the way but nothing that didn't resolve or could be dealt with later. It was at this point that I realised Melodee's mother wasn't the slightest bit interested in being a mother, she was happier to spend her time on the computer playing video games and leaving me to do all the house work and to care for our daughter. I was running myself ragged as I was running a service station on night shift at the time for extra money. Three hours sleep (as I am sure you are most aware) is simply not enough to function humanely throughout the waking hours.
I began to look for ways to take full custody of my daughter when her mother's father shook her one night to keep her from crying. Distressed and fearing for both my own and my daughter's safety I got all the information I could, gathered evidence and recorded stuff. Then one night it hit the fan. I was seeking parenting payments from the government since I found out I was eledgable due to my work hours and the amount of time I spent caring for Melodee. I spent most of the day in town, most of it standing in line to be seen for this government handout... by 17:00 I checked my phone which I had accidentally left on silent, I had a text message "Where are you?"
I called her back and let her know all was fine and that I was on my way back home as I spoke and was in fact sitting down at the bus station waiting for said bus to ferry us away.
Several moments later I get a text message "dad is calling the police"
I freak out and call them myself, I'd recently heard the man claiming I was stealing from the house and accusing me of various things before insisting that if she let me take Melodee to visit my grandmother they'd never see the two of us again. (which was so far from the truth, I came back EARLY)
The police tell me there isn't anything they can do and advise me to catch a taxi to the nearest safe location (after I made the 000 call and was left in the cold, having to wrap my daughter in my own jacket and four blankets to keep her from freezing to death)
I immediately called a taxi and left for my grandmother's who was aware of what was going on prior.
I'm glad that I didn't go to my father's... I got a phone call the next day from my father informing me that my ex's father had gone around to my father's house and threatened to hurt my step-mother if she didn't tell him where I'd gone. If my father hadn't come out and thrown the man out, something may have happened.
I became a single father... and let me tell you it is damned hard. But I did it, I loved Melodee more than my own life, I gave up everything for this little bundle of joy and she not once made me regret it.
I gave up the battle for custody in the face of adverse odds on April 2nd 2013 and I haven't seen the little girl who brought so much joy to my life since September 19th 2012. Despite the court ordering that my ex maintain contact with me for Melodee's sake, when I called to say happy birthday to Melodee for her first birthday, I was hung up on.
The worst day of my life? August 14th 18:00... when the police came with a court order for an IVO/AVO and confiscated my laptop, my pram and took my sleeping daughter from my arms.
I felt so weak and helpless. I cried for hours, I'd never known that a human can cry for hours and still have tears to cry after. Then the rage settled in, a deep red thing that I hadn't felt since my highschool years.
I left the house, leaving my grandparents in shock and fear at what had happened to their normally calm and placid grandson. I went out looking for a fight. Luckily none presented itself to me and instead I walked maybe twenty kilometres, burning anger as my fuel on an empty stomach. I slipped back into the house and sat in bed for the remainder of the night, unable to sleep. The morning after I packed up my daughters things, I couldn't look at them any longer, it hurt too much.
Even now... there are drawers I can't open without fear of breaking down in tears.
Some people hear this tale and judge me. Some think I'm a coward for not fighting for Melodee longer than I did, others pity me and sympathise with the pain I feel every day when something brings up the little girl in my thoughts. Yet more still judge me and say I did the right thing for us both to avert so much emotional trauma.
I still question my decision myself, to this very day, did I do the right thing? Did letting her go from my life possibly give her a chance to grow up without the emotional juggernaught that is two different families that so many of my friends cannot cope with? My parents split after I'd left home so I'm not particularly able to say I have the experience to know how to feel in that situation that and the fact I never particularly liked my mother anyway.
Anyway now everyone and everypony knows, this is my story. I've left out some details here and there but the juicy bits are out for all to see. I've been toying with the idea of writing my own story and forgoing a prettying up of myself instead to give the readers a true insight into my mind and my past.
Thank you Dave, David... for being such a great role model, while you may not be perfect and you may have done terrible things in the past, I look past those and see the virtues you hold. Honesty, Loyalty, Kindness, Generosity, Laughter. You really do embody these things, not just as a plot point in a story but in real life.
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I cannot thank you enough for your heartfelt words, for sharing the story of the most painful part of your life with me, with us all. None with a brain in their head could say that you did anything less than all you could for her. I'm truly sorry for your loss and the emotional trauma you've endured at the hands of those who should have been supportive. I cannot honestly say that I can so much as imagine, let alone empathize with this form of loss, for I have never encountered it in my life. What I can say is that you possess a strength of character surpassing my own as well as most others on earth for fighting as hard and as long as you did in spite of the odds. I sincerely hope with all I can muster that things work out for you; you've paid the price in tears and sweat. You've earned happiness, and I know that you will someday find it again. Once again, I give a vigorous thanks for your complements, and I wish you all the best, brother.