I'm The Bruised Purple Hand

The girls had left a while ago. Vinyl's car was gone. Sunset remained, her legs slung through the dry grass near where it happened, leaning back on her arms. The stage was empty. The seats were long vacant. Trash remained everywhere.

Pony to person to she-demon to outcast to one of the good guys. It was almost too much, and Sunset took a shaky breath, her thoughts dropping away to the soft wind rustling her hair before her stomach could finish lurching. Then, movement! Someone had returned to the stage, and by the long high ponytail and bare teal shoulders, it was one of the siren girls. Sonata Dusk?! Didn't they run away? What's she doing? Why didn't I go with the girls? The defeated siren stood, as though to deliver an encore nobody asked for, and dropped to her knees, her ponytail swinging to her front, like she'd been stabbed through her back. What do I do? Sunset was on her feet now, crouched down and cautious.

But part of Sunset already knew. She blinked, and she was back at the bottom of a deep dirty hole, beaten and quivering, a blurry purple hand slowly coming into focus over the thrum of her heart. It was Twilight's hand, just as bruised as her own. You're the bruised purple hand now, echoed Twilight's voice through Sunset's head, snapping her back to the present. Sunset began to make her way to the stage, picking her way through soft drink cups and snack wrappers.

There was Sonata, breathlessly still, her teal knees bruising against the roughshod stage floor, limp before her shattered gem. M-- my gem... She gathered the pieces up and clutched them to her chest, where they'd hung hours ago. They poked and stung. My gem. The gooey, rotten filth they'd hurled at her dripped and rolled down her neck, mucous-slick seeds oozing over the shards, soaking into her tie. My gem...

“Sonata? Sonata Dusk?” Sunset called out, a little quieter than she meant to, more unsure now than ever.

“What do you want?” Sonata's voice was shallow and raspy. “I can't fight you! Just leave me alone,” she choked through a fresh jag of tears.

You're the bruised hand, echoed Twilight through Sunset's ears. You're the bruised hand. “I'm not going to fight you. I want to say I'm sorry,” Sunset called out, each step toward the girl a little slower.

“Now you're sorry?!” sobbed Sonata. “These were everything! Now what do we do?”

I'm the bruised hand. Sunset got on her knees behind Sonata, leaning in and breaching the girl's body odor, crossing her hands over Sonata's chest, helping hold the crushed pendant to its owner. “I'm so sorry,” she breathed, her own tears beginning to flow.

“Go away!” Sonata thrashed from Sunset's embrace, throwing the light-yellow girl backward, clutching the smashed jewel in her fist. “I said leave me alone! You don't even know!” She clambered to her feet and ran, her stained costume skirt billowing behind her.

I... I don't know? I don't know? “Oh, yes, I absolutely do know!” Sunset's voice boomed. “How do you think I feel when my own friends bring up my demon form every day? I absolutely know!” She collapsed to her knees again. “I know,” she wept, to nobody.

It wasn't difficult to find the abandoned building the Dazzlings had claimed as their own. It was nestled next to the dingy diner they'd fed from for months, now notorious for fights and broken tableware. At least this place isn't condemned yet, thought Sunset. She contemplated giving the door a push, but hesitated for fear her hand would crack through and emerge prickled with slivers. There was a little mailbox right next to it, propped up by a rotting board. It read The Dazzlings in what felt like nail polish. Sunset tried the door. It creaked open. A silky voice rang out from inside. “Let's try a note together,” it encouraged. “Ready? Do--” it sang.

“Do--,” another voice warbled, nasal and jarring.

“Great job,” said the silky voice.

Sunset rapped her knuckles against the door, close to the solitary hinge holding it up.

“Now let's try another--” The voice went silent, replaced by the slightly nasal one. “Who is it? Aria? Dagi? Did you come back for--” Sonata burst from her room into the little hallway, only to find Sunset Shimmer standing in the front door. “I don't wanna talk to you!” She leapt back into her room. “Go away!”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” said Sunset, stepping around discarded pieces of costumes. “I brought you something,” she offered, peering around the door frame into Sonata's room. Sonata's clothes were scattered about, save for the oversized Tiny Horse Friends T-shirt draped around her frame. Her knee-high pink sneakers hung limply over the foot of her bed. Her bed itself was dressed in a few blankets and a stained sheet that was probably white once.

“Get out!” Sonata flung the book on her lap at Sunset and retreated to her pillow, hugging her legs to her chest. The book fluttered to the toes of Sunset's boots. Its cover read Vocalize This! Let's Train Our Voices for Success: Volume I.

“I-I'm really sorry,” Sunset pleaded. “What were we supposed to--”

“You were supposed to fall under our spell, and we were gonna take all your energy! That's what we do!” Sonata screamed, suddenly falling silent. “That's what we used to do,” she said, her voice giving way.

Sunset closed her eyes and sighed. I am the purple hand. She wove her way through Sonata's jacket and skirt and sneakers and sat on the bed. Sonata regarded her warily from behind her knees. “I'm glad I lost, honestly, but it's terrible,” Sunset said into the room, too uncomfortable to face Sonata. “Every day I go to school, someone is worried I'm going to turn back into a she-demon and do something horrible. Even my friends bring it up, and it still hurts. I don't remember much from my transformation, but I remember how badly I wanted to win. I thought I was better than they were.” Great, now I'm going to cry.

Sonata uncurled herself a little. “You took away the only thing I was ever good at.”

Sunset winced. “It really helped me to do a few things I used to do that didn't hurt anybody. I still write to my teacher and her friends. It's strangely comforting.” She swiveled on her hips to face Sonata. “You're obviously getting back into singing, which is great.”

“No, it's not. I'm super bad at it.”

“Just keep at it. Oh, that reminds me!” She reached into the pocket of her leather jacket and produced a little plastic bag, fumbling its contents into her palm. “I wanted you to have something that felt like old times.”

“Huh?”

“Here, close your eyes.”

“I don't wanna.”

“Well, okay. Can I at least put it on you?”

It? thought Sonata. “Uh, okay.”

Sunset reached for Sonata's neck and brushed the girl's sleek, greasy ponytail back. She let the little pendant slip from her hand as she gently clasped the chain behind Sonata. Sunset's fingers were warm and shaky against Sonata's cool skin. A familiar weight came to rest against Sonata's chest.

“You got me... a gem,” Sonata said, her voice strangely even, despite the juicy rivulets of tears beginning their way down her cheeks.

“Yeah. I know I can never replace the one you had, but now your neck won't feel naked.” Sunset gave a little smile. That sounded so bad!

“How come it's blue?”

“Well, it's a reminder where the magic comes from now.”

Sonata tilted her head, her wet eyes wide with confusion.

“We make our own magic here.” Sunset let her fingers rest against her chest without realizing she'd done it.

Sonata managed a weak smile, finally scooting over to Sunset and wrapping her arms around the yellow girl. She let her head rest on Sunset's shoulder. Sunset gently leaned her head against Sonata's.

Sonata took a deep, ragged breath, and let it tremble out, relaxing into Sunset's body. “You aren't a very scary demon,” she said in barely a whisper.

“Well, you're still a pretty siren,” Sunset choked, her own tears pooling in Sonata's hair.

Author's Note:

I originally wrote this on Derpibooru for a user there, inspired by the art I've chosen for this story's cover. It's presented here just as it was there, with only stylistic changes and one minor edit. The only way I could bend canon any harder than this would be to melt some cameras.

Alright, I've got to wrap this up. PepsiCo is coming by to suck out the saccharine trap.

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