Blue Sunny Days and Pink Lemonade

by Masterweaver

...so you try to make sure she's comfortable...

Sunny Flare's glare made Lemon Zest swelter almost as much as if she had been caught in her friend's namesake. Maybe even a little bit more.

"...apology assortment?" she offered, holding out the cardboard tray.

The glare did not cease its relentless assault.

"I mean, I was going to go for pizza," Lemon explained, "but I thought that was cheap, and then I thought you might like donuts or something so I went down to the bakery and it turns out Pinkie works there and, uh, you know Pinkie, she thought you might like custom cupcakes and I went along with it but then I remembered that you're kind of a perfectionist and I didn't know if that meant you were a health nut so I got the veggie tray but then I thought you might be annoyed at being stereotyped so I decided to get the pizza too and then I realized I had the pizza and the veggies and the cupcakes so I kind of spent a good ten minutes arranging them all into one big thing and I realize the pizza's gone cold but you have a microwave right cause I can just jam it in for a minute or two--"

"You're not going to go away until I say something, are you."

"...Or until you slam the door in my face. Could you tell me if you're going to? I don't want all this food to go flying."

Sunny Flare let out a long, aggravated sigh, stepping aside. "Put it on the coffee table."

Lemon carefully walked in, setting down the assemblage and pulling her arms out from under it. "So, yeah, look. I don't know what trigger I hit, cause... I'm not that sort of genius. But I clearly hit some sort of trigger and... I like to think we're friends now, after everything. And... I'd like to think that we can stay friends. So... whatever I did wrong, first of all I'm sorry and second of all, I still don't know what's going on and I'm asking if you can tell me."

"Just laying it all on the table, huh?"

"It's a lot of food--"

"I meant your intentions," Sunny clarified, deadpan.

"Well... we could do the stupid sitcom thing where we dance around what we want and unintentionally make things even worse and awkward until fate itself forces us together in a situation where we have to admit our problems to each other before dramatically saving the world." Lemon shrugged. "Or we could be mature adults and recognize that our emotions, while intense and valid, should be address and worked through with care and effort."

"...you do realize in a world of magic, the first option is actually viable."

"Yeah, but it would probably mean missing classes or something, and you'd have a nerd-freakout if that happened."

Sunny rolled her eyes, sitting down on the couch. "Right. Give... me a moment to think about how I want to start this."

"I'd like to start with the 'I haven't been okay for five fucking years' thing--"

"I," Sunny said firmly, "would very much not."

Lemon opened her mouth, paused, and sat down next to her. "Okay, sure. Your apartment, your rules."

"...It's not that I haven't addressed the issues," Sunny finally managed. "I have. Repeatedly. I've gone to therapists, I've mostly moved on, but... something that big, it doesn't just leave. You have to live with it. The scars..."

She trailed off.

Lemon nodded. "Yeah. Thought it was... something like that."

"...It comes and goes, the... pain. Not just the physical, that's... mostly twinges, these days, but..." Sunny bit her lip. "...do you even know what happened? Did you ask Cinch?"

"No. Besides, Auntie Abby doesn't have access to your records anymore--"

"But she would still remember."

"Still. Wouldn't have been right of me, I don't think. I mean it's a bit of a gray area, because obviously I care, but this is also something personal and they're called personal issues for a reason so..."

Sunny chuckled dryly. "Never know where that line is, huh?"

"Not until you find it."

For a moment, the two were silent.

"...Five years ago. Mom and Dad were driving me home from a party. They were both drunk--not too drunk, I don't think, from a legal perspective." Sunny's eyes lingered on her hands. "You have to understand, they were loving parents but not exactly... responsible. They weren't neglectful or abusive, just.... they liked parties, they liked to live. Rich and stupid. Not evil, not arrogant, but... they were drunk, and they were driving home, and they went a little too fast at one intersection."

She took a breath. "So I hear this screech and a crunch. Not like in the movies with one large crumple and a thousand little shatterings, no, this is... a multilayered crunch, there's something meaty about it, and something like paper and I see--something, it's all mushy and rushing at me and I hold up my hands to protect myself and they... get... caught. Between two panels of metal.. I'm still not sure which."

Quietly, she grabbed one of her wrists and twisted. The entire metal bracer came off... the hand still attached.

"...They're pretty high quality," Sunny admitted. "Can't tell they're fake unless you know what to look for."

"Both of them?" Lemon asked quietly.

"Yep. The bracers are battery packs... mostly, I've done my own tweaking, but yeah. I can go a full two weeks without needing to recharge these."

"...neat."

Sunny nodded, sliding her hand back on.

"I mean the technology," Lemon clarified. "Not that you need it. Because that was pretty horrible and--"

"No, I got it." Sunny Flare shrugged. "So... when that happened, I blacked out. I woke up three days later, got told that my hands were missing, and my parents were both dead. All because they were a little too liberal with the spirits they drank."

"...wow. Five years, huh?"

"...Little over, honestly. It was... April 17th."

Lemon Zest blinked. "April 17th."

"Yeah."

"...That... uh..." Lemon swallowed. "Were you riding in a black car?"

"...yes...?"

"And you crashed into a green pickup."

"...how did you--?"

"On the corner of Handler and Broadstroke?"

Sunny Flare crossed her arms. "I thought you didn't go looking into this."

Lemon stared at her for a few seconds.

"...Of course! The hair. You had longer hair then!"

Sunny blinked. "Uh... I... did. What?"

"I--um." Lemon swallowed. "Wow, this is freaky, but... I was in the truck."

"...what?"

"I was in the truck," she repeated. "Me, my brother, and my mom. This black car came zooming out of nowhere and..." Lemon swallowed. "Well, you know. My brother didn't make it."

"You're shitting me."

"No, no, I'm serious! Mom of course... well, she did call 911, made sure I was okay, and..." Lemon swallowed. "I was the one who actually pulled you out. It's no wonder I didn't recognize you, you had longer hair and your face was covered in--"

She cut herself off.

"...covered in my father's brain matter."

"...yeah."

"So... what, you never checked up on me?"

Lemon held up her hands. "Look, my mom had just lost her son and she thought, and I know this is horrible, but she thought anybody associated with the drunk who had taken him had to be a bad influence. I tried to figure out how to find you, but I didn't know what you looked like, I didn't know your name, I was... super freaking out about my twin brother being dead and there were dead guys and I was a kid, okay? Nobody should have to go through that. Not what you went through... or what I went through."

Sunny shook her head. "I'm sorry. I just... suddenly you were always there. And I didn't know that before today. That's... that's one freaky coincidence."

"No arguments here."

They stared at the food on the table for a few minutes in silent contemplation.

"So..." Lemon swallowed. "Given... what we know now... what do we do?"

"...I think that I overreacted and that I should apologize for making a scene. Even if you were pressing hard, you... had good reason. Just..." Sunny Flare took a breath. "Learn to be a bit more subtle."

Lemon Zest gave her a look. "Me. Subtle."

"You're not Pinkie Pie."

"Enh, fair point." Lemon nodded. "Fine. I'll try to be gentler."

"Okay."

"...so there's food here," Lemon pointed out. "And we just shared some very traumatic personal tragedy. So..."

"We are not going to fall into each other's arms weeping dramatically."

"Nah, that would be stupid. Just thinking, you have any video games?"

Comments

[Eroraf86]

Three stories from three different authors update on the same day? It can't be Christmas again already, can it?

Gosh, poor girls, both of them. I'm glad they had this talk.

[Malandy]

Well, I didn't expect that title!

Sunny Flare's glare made Lemon Zest swelter almost as much as if she had been caught in her friend's namesake. Maybe even a little bit more.

"...apology assortment?" she offered, holding out the cardboard tray.

The glare did not cease its relentless assault.

Lemon rambling is hilarious!

"I meant your intentions," Sunny clarified, deadpan.

Those romantic implications!

That coincidentalness! Woah.

I got what was about to happen once the details started coming together, but woah.

I assume the coincidences are reflecting their Pony selves... Wonder what they're like... That's assuming that they do have counterparts though... Mmm...

Lemon Zest gave her a look. "Me. Subtle."

"You're not Pinkie Pie."

Still not complete... Well, they're in the same house, on the same couch... Where will this go?

....

"...do you even know what happened? Did you ask Cinch?"

"No. Besides, Auntie Abby doesn't have access to your records anymore--"

Did Cinch know about the coincidence? Did anyone else??

[FanOfMostEverything]

Fate works in mysterious ways.

I didn't do nothin'.
I don't think he means us specifically.

In any case, a truly beautiful moment. Especially the last few lines.

[michaelb958]

"...covered in my father's brain matter."

[Romance] [Comedy] [Slice of Life], folks!

But wow, that's harsh; and wow, small world; and wow, good handling by writer.

[Hazey Logic]

Huh...

[PhycoKrusk]

“Apology assortment.”

I’m going to file that one away just in case....

[mastermenthe]

Woah.

[PresentPerfect]

holy shit what c.c

I know what I just said, but that is a lot to take in all at once! D:

Though her wrist things being prosthetics is one of the more interesting headcanons I've ever seen.

[UrsaMajor]

"Or we could be mature adults and recognize that our emotions, while intense and valid, should be address and worked through with care and effort."

be addressed

That's a wham chapter if ever there was one.