Apropos of the Sinners

by SpitFlame

Part III – Chapter VII – Parting Clouds

"It's me, me, Cluster," Snowfall went on in a weak patter, "but I can't keep the coachpony waiting any longer."

She was wearing a dress of some kind, a sort of linen design, though old-fashioned. Her face had grown a rather thin since last he saw her, and her mane was a mess. Despite all that, she still looked very pretty.

"Wait... let me... some candles..." Cluster summoned his magic to scan the area. In no time he caught hold of at least a dozen candles and a box of matches, lit them all, and efficiently placed them around the room.

"Kindly hold my saddlebag while I deal with him," said Snowfall to Daisy, smiling weakly. Daisy, too stunned to speak, obliged at once and took hold of the saddlebag, bringing it to the couch. Then, Snowfall irritably fell upon the coachpony, "You, sir, are charging too much. If you dragged me for a whole extra hour 'round these dirty streets it's your own fault, because you didn't know where to find this house. Accept these five bits, and rest assured you won't get anymore."

"Eh, little lady, it was you who kept jabbing at the wrong street; the lane you were pointing to is on the other side of town. You just got my sense of direction all in a stew."

"You ought to know all these stupid streets by now, since you're a local. In any case, you can claim the rest from me tomorrow at the justice department. Leave me alone right now."

"Here, here's another ten bits!" Cluster impetuously snatched the five bits from Snowfall and gave it to the coachpony, alongside ten more bits—fifteen in total.

"You don't need to do that," huffed Snowfall, but the coachpony was already off. Cluster seized her by the hoof and drew her inside. Daisy was in the corner, watching them intently.

"Quick, Snowfall, watch your step, sit on the couch here. You look extremely tired. Excuse me..."

"Thank Celestia you're here!" she cried joyfully. Cluster had left for a second to bring a candlestick and place it on the table in front of them. She gave a cursory look around the place. "Word spread that a certain Cluster Tale was in town, and that he was staying with another certain Daisy Sprawl."

"So you came looking for me?" Cluster almost scrunched his face, ears drooping.

"And... and... oh, can I please have a bed?" she said squeamishly, trying to get up from the couch but clearly struggling.

"Here, let me..." Cluster helped her up. Daisy quickly moved and opened the door for them into Cluster's room. "Daisy, can you get her a glass of water?" he asked her. Daisy nodded understandingly and went to the kitchen, and in no time she was back with the water.

"Oh, I'm tired!" said Snowfall, and with a strengthless air she sat on the soft bed. "Please put my saddlebag down, and have a seat yourself. Don't worry, Cluster—ah, thank you"— She received the water from Daisy and set it down on the stool "—that I'll only stay here for a time, until I find work, because I don't know anything here. If I'm cramping you, just say it to me, I know you're an honest pony. I can go to a hotel tomorrow, though you might have to take me, only... Oh, I'm so tired!"

Cluster started. "Don't think like that, Snow. What hotel? Why? I'll be here with you."

"I came looking for you, because when you left, I... wasn't so sure..." she muttered vaguely, staring up at the ceiling.

It all came back to Cluster, like something dreadful hit him on the head. He stood there, silent and motionless, a look of intense reflection highlighting his face. He looked at her once more, and his mouth twisted into a weary, rueful frown.

"I'm... I'm so sorry I left you," he said in a low voice. He stared weakly at her, unsure if he even meant it. "I never thought you'd still look for me. It's almost like I..." He grinned with self-deprecation. "It's almost like I ran away from you, because, well, that's exactly what I did. And I didn't look back."

"If you can understand me, Cluster, please accept that I don't blame you. I'm talking to you directly, without eloquence, because I can't stand it, because it's nonsense, because... Oh, please, I'm really tired!"

And she gave him a long, worn-out, tired look. Cluster stood facing her, and listened to her readily, with regret, but somehow in a renewed way, with some never-seen radiance in his face. Cluster, this stone-faced unicorn, so composed and aloof, was suddenly all softness and brightness. Something unusual, altogether unexpected, trembled in his soul. Close to a whole year of separation, a year of the memories of a broken relationship, had dislodged nothing from his heart. Finally talking to Daisy about her, the first time in so long, revealed to him that every single day in the past year, almost without realizing it, he had thought of her. Knowing Cluster, I can say for certain that he could never have admitted in himself even the dream that some mare might say "I love you" to him, in a romantic way. He was certainly well-known and talented, but modest, and would even compare himself to Bronze, imagining that he could have turned out like his father. As a consequence of all that, he placed honesty above all things, though this left him gloomy, apathetic, somewhat proud, even to his disadvantage.

But now this sole being who had loved him, a being who regarded him as immeasurably above her, despite her perfectly sober understanding of his errors; a being whom he could forgive everything—this there was no question. This mare, Snowfall Blaze, was suddenly in the same room as him, again like before, and this he found incomprehensible. He was so struck, felt such guilt, though mixed in it some morbid happiness, that, of course, he couldn't, and possibly didn't want to, come to his senses. This felt like a dream. But when she gave him that worn-out look, a sign of suffering, his heart sank. He studied her features even with some reluctance.

"Snow... you know... maybe you're very tired, but please don't blame yourself for anything. If you'd accept some tea, at least. Tea is very fortifying."

"Why are you asking me to accept?" she said in an even weaker voice. "Of course I'll accept. This room is very small. It's really cold."

"Right, right, there's firewood." Cluster got all stirred up. "Firewood, but tea, too, right away." He got up with resolution, ready to leave.

"You're going out? There's no tea in the house?"

"I'm just going to the kitchen, I'll make some. But for the firewood I'll have to go out. I'll do that first."

"Wait, wait," she began pleading, stretching her hoof to him. "Don't leave me, it's okay, it's not that cold. Just stay by my side, please."

"But..." Cluster began, but paused, being struck by the fearful, one might even say naive, expression on her face. He sighed. "Okay, okay, I'll stay. Daisy!" he called, and she came into the room at once. "Make some tea please, I'd appreciate it."

"I'm on it!" Daisy hurried off.

"Who's that?" asked Snowfall.

"Daisy? She's a friend of mine." He sat back on the edge of the bed, looking sadly at her. "I only came to Baltimare to help her out with something, and now I've taken temporary residence here in her house. I was going to go soon, but..." He suddenly trailed off, and both of them stared at each other.

In less than two minutes Daisy returned with the tea. Snowfall was visibly pleased by her haste and almost greedily drank down her cup. However, her face had gone pale; there was a dejected look in her eyes. Every once in a while she would fidget in her bed sheets.

"You're ill, Snow," remarked Cluster, waiting on her. "You're heating up."

"Of course I'm ill, sit down, please."

There came another pause. Eventually Cluster spoke up again. "I'm sorry to ask you this, but why didn't you ever write to me?"

"I thought that"— She twisted her lips —"that when I got your letter, and after my parents' funeral, you wanted nothing to do with me."

Cluster shook his head, slowly, as if to himself, but kept silent. He didn't know what to say, or if anything he could say would be of comfort. "No, it isn't true"—would that be enough? Clearly not, because his actions reflected otherwise. In that moment he felt terribly foolish, terribly foolish and regretful.

"I never should have left," he said at length.

"Don't you remember that night before the theatre?" drawled Snowfall, as if indecisively.

"Yeah, I remember," he said, and a faint blush came to his cheeks.

"And what we did?" She heaved herself up.

"Yeah, I—look, maybe I'm a terrible pony this minute, I know I am. I've even forgiven other terrible ponies..." He suddenly got up and began to pace the room.

But Snowfall did not quite understand him. She listened distractedly to his replies; she asked, but did not listen.

"You're living a very nice life, or so I've heard. But it's been so stressful, really. Do sit down, Cluster, please. Oh, you can be so irritating!" And, exhausted, she lowered her head onto the pillow.

"Snow, I won't... Maybe you want something else, Snow?"

She did not answer and strengthlessly closed her eyes. Her pale face resembled a dead pony's. She fell asleep almost instantly. Cluster looked around, straightened the candle, looked anxiously at her face one more time, and quietly left the room.

"So what will you do now?" Daisy asked him cautiously, just outside the room.

He lapsed into agitated thought. Daisy was looking intently at him, waiting silently.

"This whole situation can't be picked up in one piece and carried away," he said. "I don't know what, but something's wrong with her. She's not being herself; she's wearing a dress for some reason."

"But still, you're here now with her, and you're not going to leave this time," observed Daisy gently and persuadingly. "I'm here for you and her, Cluster."

Cluster glanced pityingly at her, but suddenly waved his hoof as if thinking, "What's there to pity?"

"Alright, I'm going out to get some more firewood," he suddenly broke off, "and you watch over Snowfall."

"I won't leave her side, and if she wakes up, I'll tell her that you'll be back soon," Daisy assured politely and went back into the room.

* * *

Cluster felt like he had lost some chief sense in all this, namely, that he had forgotten all previous thoughts of Ponyville or Canterlot. Not that this mattered very much; he wanted to make sure Snowfall would be okay. If necessary, he would contact a doctor at once.

And so, essentially, the fact that she returned eviscerated all previous feelings of emptiness that had been brewing up within him. At first he was taken aback, clearly confused, but over time he found himself becoming more and more thankful. He would still chide himself every few minutes for having left her. But now this was different. He was going to have it differently, no matter what. Now least of all could any notion of his own safety enter his head, occupied as it already was.

Having returned to the house, he set up the firewood in the hearth and lit it with his magic, and in a few minutes the nearby rooms were slightly warmer. He went back into his room and informed Daisy that she could go to bed, that he would take care of everything else, because she was evidently very tired. (Daisy, in any case, did not sleep, and stayed awake in the living room) He sat in the corner, not taking his eyes off Snowfall.

Then he would get up, quietly make his way towards her, and think, Good grief. By tomorrow she'll be running a fever. By morning it may have already started. She probably caught a cold. And to leave her here, abandon her without any help... How much has she endured? She's proud, that's why she's trying not to complain. But in this illness even somepony like Airglow would get irritated. So dry, her forehead is burning, so dark under her eyes...

And he would momentarily look away, thinking that there was nothing he could do, and he would go back to the corner. "It really is cold in here," he muttered in an inaudible voice.

He remembered that she had complained about that. "The firewood's here. Now what? She'll get up, she may want something to eat. I'll make her something, something soft and easy to chew on, but that can wait. She's so fast asleep right now."

And he went over yet again to look at her; her dress was turned back a little, and her right hind-leg was sticking out slightly. He moved the sheet to cover her better. Then, he lit the stove in the kitchen, came back, and sat in the corner again and slowly dozed off. About two hours went by—it was past three o'clock now. Suddenly a groan came from her; she awoke, she was calling to him; he jumped up like a criminal.

"Snowfall! Damn it, I fell asleep."

She raised herself, looking around in surprise, as if not recognizing where she was, and suddenly became all stirred.

"I took your bed, I fell asleep, besides... Why didn't you wake me up?" she spoke heatedly, with indignation. "You don't think I'm trying to burden you, do you?"

"But I... Why would I wake you?"

"You could have. There's no other bed for you here, and I took yours. Come on, I'll lie on the couch, you can rest here."

She got up, tried to take a step, but suddenly it was as if a violent convulsive pain took all her strength away and all her resolve at once, and with a loud groan she fell back on the bed. Cluster ran to her, but Snowfall, her face buried in the pillows, seized his hoof and began to squeeze it. This went on for about a minute.

"Snowfall, dear, if you want I could go fetch a doctor, I'm sure I'll find one working the night shift."

"Please don't..." she drawled, barely able to speak.

"But why? Snow, please tell me what's wrong with you."

"What is this?" she asked strangely, raising her head and looking at him fearfully.

"What do you mean?" Cluster failed to understand. He could not make sense of what she was asking, and was passing more into unease.

"It's okay, Cluster, you don't have to understand. And it would be very funny..." She grinned bitterly. "Talk to me about something. Walk around the room and talk. Don't just stand over me and stare at me."

Cluster began walking around the room, looking at the floor, deep in thought, yet every once in a while would cast a fleeting glance at her.

"You look thin, Snow. Let me get you something to eat."

She waved her hoof squeamishly and angrily. Cluster stopped for a second, then continued pacing the room.

"Listen," she said, "I really want to open a book shop. Remember how you used to read to me? You always picked novels that I liked. What do you think: will a book shop succeed or not?"

"Snow, there's already a book shop here; you'd have to face competition in that market."

"Oh, since when were you so boring, Cluster? You were very witty last year." She uttered this as squeamishly as all her earlier capricious remarks.

"Snow," Cluster addressed her softly, coming up beside her, "if only you knew how much had gone this past year. I thought that you would despise me. I gave way to dealing with thugs and other bad influences; I was associated with all the terrible ponies. I'm not even sure who I abandoned..."

"Yeah, there's many bad influences out there," she said haltingly and painfully. "Tell me, Cluster, how's your family?"

"That doesn't matter now."

"Yes, it does," she said with some newfound insistence. "Even when you were gone, I was hoping that you still had your family. I missed my parents very much; at the funeral I pressed my face to their coffins and I kept crying, but I was thinking of you. I lost my family, and I was hoping you'd take something away from that."

Cluster was solemnly silent.

"How's your family?" she asked again. "Your brother, your sister..."

"They're..." began Cluster, slowly, as if his tongue were impossibly heavy. "My sister is doing just fine. She works at a library. My brother is... I don't know where..."

"What about your dad?"

"Snow, look—"

"How's your dad, Cluster?"

He sighed, and said reluctantly, "I've taken the long route with him, meaning..." A dreary contemplation blazed out in his eyes, something from rightful hesitation to ponder too much, like he were pressing against some haunting thoughts. He said quietly, "My dad's a scumbag, but he's a scumbag with the intelligence and intuition of a successful landowner. I can acknowledge that."

Snowfall was about to nod, to show that she understood, but suddenly the same convulsion came over her. She was lying stretched out, looking at the ceiling with hot eyes; she was having trouble breathing. Again she hid her face in the pillow, and again for a whole minute she clung painfully to Cluster's hoof.

"Snow, this may be very serious!" he exclaimed, rushing to her.

"Just stop... I don't want it, I don't want it," she kept exclaiming, almost in a fury, turning her face up again. "Don't just look at me. Walk around, say something, talk..."

Cluster, completely at a lost, was trying to mutter something, but it seemed that he had lost his voice.

"How have you been getting along with your sister?" she asked.

"Let's drop it, Snow, save it for later. You need to rest."

Snowfall suddenly raised her head and cried out painfully, "Don't you dare just keep staring at me!" And she fell back on the bed again in a seizure of the same convulsive pain; this was the third time now, but this time her moans grew louder, turned into cries.

"Snow, I'll do whatever you like... I'll walk, talk..."

"Can't you see that it's begun, Cluster? Oh, you're so blind."

"What's begun?" He seriously thought that she had gone mad.

"But can't you see that I'm in labour?" she said, raising herself a little, looking at him with a terrible, painful spite that distorted her whole face. "It really, really hurts."

"Snow," exclaimed Cluster, realizing what this was all about. He stood there as if in a stupor. "But why didn't you tell me sooner?" He suddenly collected himself and, with a rush of determination, went for the door.

"Where are you going? Don't you dare leave me!"

"To fetch a midwife!" Cluster called back, already in the living room. "I'll be right back!"