Sensation - Appleloosa

by Vivid Syntax

Chapter 17 - Acceptance

Folks say that home feels smaller once you've seen the world. I suppose that's true, in a way, but returning to Appleloosa felt like putting on your favorite pair of boots. And the thing about boots is: you wear 'em so you can work.

I was still catching my breath when I heard a knock on the door. My whole body tensed, but I realized it wasn’t Bronze. He would have just walked back in. I unwound when I heard Copperline ask, "Braeburn? You in there?"

I took two deep breaths, then stood up and called back, "Comin’, Copper” as I walked to the door and opened it.

Copper stood there with a big grimace on his face, knees pointed inward like he was cold, and eyes that screamed for a hug. Pretty usual for him, honestly. "Welcome back, Braeburn. Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

I smiled and shook my head. "You're good, Copper. Truth be told, I could use something to take my mind off things for a bit."

"Oh thank goodness!" he sighed. "Because just about everypony in town has questions about the farm grant allocations, and Slate needs help with a letter from somepony named Long Reign or something, and, uh, shoot, I had five things." He grimaced again. "It's all back at my desk if you don't mind a walk?"

I chuckled. "That sounds great, Copper."

I've always thrown myself into my work. For years, it was an escape from facing my troubles. But after my time with Soarin', I found purpose in it again. The fears about the townsfolk not accepting me stung less and less. Catching up on the paperwork left me exhausted in the best way. Life had rhythm that I slid right back into, like I’d never left, and as much as I missed Soarin', the feeling was one of fondness, not loss.

Bronze had practically disappeared. Pridesong said he saw Bronze fly directly north from my house, likely following the train tracks. I wondered if I'd ever see him again, but I wasn’t afraid. It was a nice change of pace, not tying my happiness to another stallion. That had another effect on me, too: I realized I could appreciate a fine stallion without needing him in my bed. I won’t say that the desires went away, but maybe the “need” of it all was a little less.

Everywhere, life felt renewed. Folks seemed genuinely happy to have me back (though in Fertile Seed's case, it was because I kept folks from yelling at him so much). There were lots of ideas for new projects for the town, and a whole lotta folks wanted my input. If I were a cynical pony, I would say that it’s because I’m useful, but I felt more like a neighbor returning after a long trip.

Most magical of all, Slate and his wife Desert Bloom welcomed their new colt into the world, just three days after I got back. Things felt new again. Things felt right. The days passed quickly, and my biggest trouble was keeping the flies out of my face.

And with that energy, I welcomed my parents a week later. "Hey there! Welcome to AAAAAAPPLELOOSA!"

Ma beamed, and Pa cocked an eyebrow with a little smirk. “You greet all your guests like that?”

“Every single one, Pa!” I hooked them both by the shoulders. “C’mon, I’ll show you around. Y’all are gettin’ the full treatment!”

Matter of fact, they got even more than they bargained for. Pride gave the regular tour to the other three visiting families, and that left me to tend to my parents. I hardly made progress through the town, though. Just about everypony we bumped into wanted to meet ‘em and say how happy they were with my work and to have me home. I was redder than my cutie mark by the time we’d made it halfway down Mane Street.

But Ma and Pa ate it all up. Ma got real huggy, and she would say all sorts of things like, “Oh, my big Braeby has always been a go-getter. Did you know he’s been helping plan the orchards since before he started school?” Pa was no different. He’d stepped off the train with a little slouch, but by the time we were done, his head was so high that I might have mistaken him for a giraffe.

They loved my house, too. Although, to my shame, I still hadn’t unpacked my luggage. Ma was the first to notice. “Do you always leave your bag by the door? Hm-hm! Too busy with the town to even unpack?”

My heart felt heavy. Truth is, I didn’t want to move it. It was the last thing I’d done before leaving Big Blue. I think deep down, I believed my adventure with him wasn’t really over if I never unpacked.

But as I stared at it again for the umpteenth time, a little string untied itself from my heart. “Yeah,” I said with a nod. “I should take care of that.” I reached down and picked it up.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to scold, Braeby. You don’t need to do it now.”

I laughed and waved a hoof. “It’ll be okay, Ma. I gotta do it eventually.” I brought it upstairs, set it on my bed, and looked it over. To myself, I whispered, “When I’m ready.” I kissed the bag and went back down.

Pa was inspecting everything. He was rocking the hoof-made chairs, giving my couch a little kick, and knocking a hoof against the wooden walls of my house. His lips curled into a smug smile. “Seems like that dovetail joint is keeping everything in place.”

My head bounced side to side, and I smiled back at him. “Okay, okay, you were right.”

“And did you take my advice on the couch assembly?”

I perked up. “Actually, there’s a nifty trick you can pull with some of the shorter logs. My old, uh… My old buddy, Flint, showed me a while back.”

Ma laughed and walked towards the kitchen. “I know where this is going. You colts have fun. I’ll start on dinner.”

Pa raised an eyebrow. “Little trick, you say?” He walked over to the couch, crouched down, and inspected it closer. “Mind showing me what you mean?”

We talked shop so long that Ma threatened to throw our dinner to the coyotes. That meal felt just like back in Haulahay. Maybe better.

They insisted on staying at the Tumbleweed to give me my space, which was great and all, but I had promised them the full experience. We took the overnight camping trip that Pridesong always organized for the tourists. My parents loved seeing the stars in the big, big sky like that. I don’t know if they’d seen it so clearly since they were my age. And even with four families worth of ponies, there was little sound besides the murmured conversation and the slight whoosh of the soft breeze.

During s’mores, Pride approached the three of us, his guitar slung across his back. “Evenin’, folks. Thanks for comin’ out. You must be Cortland and Gala.” He tipped his hat. “I’m Pridesong. Folks call me Pride, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, Pride!” Pa was shaken, and I didn’t understand why until he added, “Are you, uh… one of Braeburn’s special friends?”

Pride’s face flattened. “Not that kind of Pride, sir. I’m straight as an arrow.”

Pa shrank. “Sir, I am very sorry for insinuating.”

Pride held up a hoof. “Happens all the time, sir.” He sat in the dirt. “I just came to tell you what a wonder your son is.”

I shook my head and smiled. “Oh, don’t start that.”

“Heh. I’m gonna.” He turned back to my parents. “None of this would be possible without his work, especially raising the orchard. We’d have starved long ago without him, and we’ve missed him terribly the last couple months. We managed, because he and the other founders helped set us up right, but it’s a mighty blessing having him back.” He looked at me. “We love him, and we love having him in the community.”

My heart raced, and I felt warm all over. My marshmallow toasted while I listened, and I held myself there, perfectly still.

Ma and Pa basked in it. Ma leaned on Pa’s shoulder, and Pa threw a hoof around her and said, “That’s very kind of you to say. Thank you for telling us.”

“We’re so proud of him.” Ma cast a glance my way. “I wouldn’t change a thing about him.”

The desert sands didn’t feel so cold that night. I drew warmth from more ponies than I ever thought possible.

…and from my marshmallow, which got burned all to hell.

Ma and Pa stayed for the whole weekend, and it was good feelings all around. At the Saturday Wild West dance, I showed off the dance moves I learned from the Wonderbolts, and as goofy as I felt, folks all joined in. The Sunday community brunch was just about as well-attended as I’d ever seen it, though I was approached by a few friends who…

…

Yeah. I have a lot of friends now, more than I'd ever believed.

A few friends approached me during the meal, eager to ask my advice on a town problem. And a lot just wanted to meet my parents, hear stories about my trip, and spend time with me. My parents got to see me in my element, and when they left on the Sunday train, Pa gave me the most solid hoofshake I've ever gotten. I promised to visit more often, and we said our goodbyes.

For a few days, I breathed easily. I didn't stop thinking about Soarin' or Bronze, but the load was lighter. I wished them both well every night before I fell asleep.

And I'd barely had a drink since I'd gotten back. Pa and I had split a flask of apple whisky, but that was it. Please don’t judge – it gave us something to bond over, and I let him know that I was trying to take it easy once we were done. The temptation wasn't that bad when I was so focused on my town and with friends around me. Even if a lot of it was work. I think spending time in my orchard helped, too. Managing water, culling the sickly fruit, spreading branches on the younger trees…

Those feelings carried me until Tuesday evening, when I was finally ready to unpack. It felt like a ceremony. I set my luggage square on the center of my bed and ran a hoof across the top. "Love you, Soarin'."

There wasn't all that much, but every item felt like a treasure. I took out the pink shirt he'd gotten me in Las Pegasus. It was still sweaty from dancing at the Sapphire Shores concert. No telling how much bacteria had grown on it since then. All the same, I held it up to my nose and sniffed deeply, and my eyes fluttered with the hint of Soarin' on it. I let the feeling wash over me, and then, I let it dissipate. "Gonna miss that a whole bunch. Thank you for everything, Big Blue."

Slowly, I draped it over my laundry basket to air out overnight, and I went back to unpacking. Giving each little object its moment, I took out my bolo tie, the quill pen made from Soarin's feather, and the pair of goggles he'd left at Auntie Crisp's the first time we'd met. Every one of them had a happy memory attached. I gave them all time to breathe.

That left the front pocket, and…

You know how your brain can tell right away that something is wrong? Call it intuition or subconscious or whatever, but it's that undeniable feeling that, even if you can't fully describe it, you know something ain't right.

The zipper wasn't closed all the way. I always zip it closed tight, and my heart leapt to my throat. "M-might have gotten jostled." I was lying, and I knew it. I hesitated, and I opened the pocket.

My backstage passes to the Wonderbolts shows. Soarin' had gotten them for me for the whole season. I kept them with my luggage so I'd never forget them. There were fewer than there were supposed to be, and they were all askew instead of folded nicely together.

I tore them from my luggage without a word. Three were missing: last week's, this week's, and next week's. "No," I whispered. I thought I would puke. "No, h-h-he wouldn't."

I checked through every pocket on my luggage four times. Nothing. I felt dizzy. I searched all around the house. They were gone. I knew what was happening, even if I wasn’t ready to admit it. I fell on my rear end and put a hoof to my temple.

My skin tingled like it wanted to crawl away. "He took 'em. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t!" I gasped for breath, and I could feel the adrenaline pumping all the way to my hooves. I knew how Bronze handled frustration, and as much as I tried to deny it, I knew what was happening. "No. No no no no!"

I threw my door open and ran to the train platform. I didn't even realize until I got there that no, of course there wasn't a train at sunset on a Tuesday. My throat sealed up, and I choked out, "Soarin'. Please…"

I paced up and down the platform and prayed he could hear me. "You're in trouble, Blue. What do I do?" I stopped and swallowed and wrenched my eyes shut, like my brain was a sponge and I could wring out a good idea. Thankfully, I heard Soarin’ one more time. "I have a team.”

I took off towards Slate’s house, but he was dealing with a new foal, and I almost toppled over myself screeching to a halt. The world spun as I looked around Mane Street. Folks were filing out of the Salt Block, but I still heard music. "Pride!"

I dashed to the door, but I forced myself to walk to not cause a panic. Pride was just putting away his guitar when he saw me approaching him like I had a concealed knife. He shrunk away. "Braeburn? You seen a ghost or something?"

I whispered, "Out back."

Pride raised an eyebrow. "There's a ghost out back?"

I slapped a hoof to my face, then ushered him through the back door.

Pride turned to me as soon as we were outside. "Braeburn, what's all this about?"

"Soarin's in trouble!" I spat out. "Bronze, he–" My eyes got wet as the gravity of it hit me. "My passes are missing. He's gonna hurt Soarin'!"

Pride’s eyes were wide as the moon. A cold breeze blew between us, but he extended a hoof, placed it on my shoulder, and made sure we had eye contact. "Well, we ain’t gonna let that happen."

Hearing somepony else tell me it would be okay unwound me like a cat with a ball of yarn. "Thank you, Pridesong."

He grabbed his stuff and stayed up late with me at the city hall. We pored over train schedules and found a route that would get me out east as fast as possible. Everything routed through Canterlot on the supply train, and it was going to be a pain no matter what. I could arrive Friday at the earliest, depending on the city, but I had no idea which one it was in. I cursed my faulty memory. We came up with a plan that involved tight turnarounds and a fall-back if I missed an exchange.

I thanked Pride and ran home to pack some essentials. And once I had that, I froze. What could I do but wait? I paced some more.

Until I heard a knock on the door. I rushed to open it, then scratched my head. "Pride?"

He stood there with his guitar on his back, looking as exhausted as, well, a pony that had already stayed up past midnight looking at train schedules. "Yeah. Figured you could use some company."

Despite myself, I couldn't help saying, "You're just about the last stallion I'd expect to hear that from. Especially in the middle of the night."

He blushed and shook his head. "Don't make me regret coming here, Braeburn."

"Sorry. But… Why are you here, exactly?"

"Because if I know you at all, you'll be up all night worrying, and you need to be sharp for the trip." He nodded to his guitar. "Might as well have some music."

"You really don't have to–"

"I know, Braeburn. But you asked for help. I don't want to leave the job half done."

My mind felt like it wasn't bouncing around my skull anymore. "Thanks, Pride."

He put on a warm smile. "What are friends for?"

Pride kept me company all night, and with his beautiful voice, I actually got some sleep at around 2am. He stayed and slept on the couch, and in the morning, he promised to keep the rumors in check and get the other founders to pick up the slack.

The train didn’t leave until evening, so I busied myself with chores and getting affairs in order with the laborers until it was time. I hopped on with not much besides clothing, some essentials, and a few books.

That train ride was absolute hell. Imagine your home burning down, but you’re strapped to a table, and you can just barely see it out of the corner of your eye. You pray that it’s not too late, but every second that ticks by while you sit there, useless, is just a little more danger and loss. All I could do was ask every single other passenger if they knew where the Wonderbolt show was, but none of them knew.

Thank the stars for Pridesong and his extra work with me. There was a delay outside of Ponyville due to a giant cake on the tracks (guess who). I missed the early-morning trains and had to wait until noon to leave for Canterlot. I was shaking by the time I made it, and I was so wracked with worry that I could barely read the train schedules. Thankfully, one of the tourism stands had a schedule of the Wonderbolts shows. My target was Fillydelphia.

But that meant more waiting. Since I’d missed the morning trains, I could either wait for the direct train the next day, or take a roundabout way through Manehattan and hope there were no delays, which would get me there an hour earlier. I had to make a decision. I…

…

I-it…

…

I looked. Later, after it was all over. The Manehattan train didn’t have any delays. If I had taken it, and if traffic had been favorable, I might have made it in time for the show. Soarin’s told me a hundred times that I made the right decision, that Manehattan is a nightmare to navigate, and it’s just as likely that it would have been too late anyway. I almost believe him, out of necessity, if nothing else.

But I chose the direct line. There were fewer stops, so I thought there would be fewer delays, too. On occasion, I have nightmares about being back in that station and facing that choice.

At the Canterlot station, I ran around trying to see about express mail delivery, or even dragonfire mail – I had enough bits to cover the fee if I skipped most of my meals – but without an address, it was for naught. The authorities, well… They hear a lot of complaints and threats and all that kind of nonsense, especially directed at celebrities. I raised hell about it, so much that I had to get pulled into a back room for a while, and I gave them the story. They said they’d “look into it.”

I would have stayed in the train station all night if I thought it would help, but there was a motel next door, so I rented a room to try and get some sleep. I think I got a little, but not nearly enough, and the wake-up call found me already dressed and preparing to check out.

Back on the train, it all started again. Reading didn’t help. Worrying didn’t help. Nothing helped. I had to reach my Big Blue.

I nearly abandoned my bag when the train stopped in Fillydelphia, just for fear of it slowing me down. I sprinted through the station until security yelled at me. It felt like walking on needles when I slowed my pace.

And outside, it was no better. I might as well have been staring at a waterfall trying to figure out how to swim up it. Buildings were everywhere. Not as tall as Baltimare, but packed with an ocean of ponies celebrating or on vacation. Fillydelphia is a historical city, but you wouldn't know it from all the noise and young ponies carousing. My head spun, and I spent a good ten minutes in a daze until I found the cabs. I had no idea how to hail one – Soarin' always took care of those things – so I'm very fortunate a kindly stranger gave me hers, and I told the driver, "How far away is the stadium where the Wonderbolts perform?"

"I can get you there in about half an hour," she replied. "Faster if we're lucky."

"Yes, please." I slumped into my seat. My stomach lurched, and I put my head down. The cabbie must have noticed, because she threw a sick bag at me before she took off at a gallop.

I felt like a plow with all the screws removed. Thoughts turned over and over in my head, each one worse than the last. 'Just gotta get there, Applebutt,' I told myself.

My blood ran cold when we arrived less than twenty minutes later. "We're here. Twelve bits."

My head snapped up. "Already?"

"Yeah, weirdly quiet tonight.”

Quiet.

She smiled. “Must be your lucky day."

"My stars, I hope so." I shoveled far too many bits into the sick bag and gave it back as I dashed off.

The Fillydelphia stadium is a marvel. It’s a massive structure, made to look like it’s made of marble with splashes of color and intricate designs at the top. But it looked like a monolith that I'd have to climb. I hadn't figured out a plan. I just hoped that if I made enough noise, somepony would listen.

Two things stopped me before I even made it to the gate. First, the announcer was starting the second act, but his tone was off, and he used the word "unbreakable." Second, a lot of ponies were already filing out, and most of them looked solemn.

Panting, I dashed up to a young couple. "I'm real sorry to bother you, but what's going on? Why are all these folks leaving?"

They grimaced at each other, and the mare spoke. "They're still doing the show, but…"

I was far too in her face, and I’m sure she thought I was on drugs. "But what? Please tell me."

She recoiled. "One of the Wonderbolts had a nasty accident. They airlifted him out and everything."

I died inside. "Do you… know who it was?"

"Soarin'. The captain guy."

…and my soul fled my body.

"Misfire during the pyrotechnics, it looked like. He was fluttering around like he was drunk or–"

I didn't even thank them. I turned and ran back to the cab, and luckily, the same one was still there. She turned her head. "Back so soon?"

"Hospital! Please!" I leapt into the seat.

She snapped to attention. "Uh, sure! Which one?"

"The fancy one!"

"...what?"

"Wherever they'd bring an injured Wonderbolt!"

"Oh, uh… I think I know. Ten minutes, tops." She dashed off as soon as I was in. Bless her for it.

But that ten minute ride gave it all time to sink in. I huffed and stared out at the city whooshing by, like I was floating. My stomach was filled with ice. I think I dissociated, and then I couldn't feel anything at all. Things moved around me, but I didn't see them, didn't hear them. Everything was a blurry buzz of colors and lights that were far too bright. I hated every moment of it, but I couldn't even get my jaw to close when my mouth dried out.

'It's my fault.' I thought about every choice I'd made since I first left Haulahay. If any of them had been different – if I'd stayed with Bronze, if I'd been honest with Soarin' about not being happy, if I'd followed up sooner – then he wouldn't have had his "accident." That ride lasted longer than the train. If Tartarus is real, then I know what I'll be doing there.

A bunch of stuff after that feels like a blur. It was faces and ponies and yelling and who knows what else. I’m not even sure I’ll remember it in the right order.

I didn't even register that we'd stopped until the cabbie poked me. "Looks like a crowd. You'll have to walk."

I looked up. Amid a busy, dirty street, a crowd was gathering near the entrance to the hospital, and a couple reporters had already shown up. Security and the police seemed overwhelmed just keeping folks outside.

And inside, my love was fighting for his life. I jumped out of the cab and tried to pay, but she refused (apparently I'd overpaid for the first trip three times over, and she felt bad). I thanked her and walked towards the crowd with no idea what I would do. At the back of my mind, I worried somepony would recognize me.

To my great fortune, the right pony did. I was stopped by a hoof on the shoulder and a stern, "Braeburn."

I turned my head, and I recognized his brown coat and cream-colored mane. "Eagle Eye?"

It was the guard that had been assigned to me when I lived in Cloudsdale. He looked both ways, then threw a wing over me. "Follow me. Head down."

I'd been through that drill before. He snuck me through the security entrance, where he directed me to the front desk. There was already a crowd of overworked staff there, and a bunch of official-looking ponies in suits mumbled about optics. Soarin’ manager, Bottom Line, wasn’t in the group, which I was grateful for, but as soon as some of the others spotted me, they growled at Eagle Eye. "No visitors."

Eagle Eye saluted, and an argument ensued. They wanted to keep the incident under control, and they weren’t sure whether I posed more of a risk in the hospital or outside with the reporters. They went back and forth, debating Soarin's health like I wasn't even there. I felt like my whole body was compressing into a black hole.

Minutes later, with the management still arguing, a stallion's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Pardon me. You're Braeburn, right?"

I blinked back into focus and saw a middle-aged pegasus couple: a tall stallion with an orange coat and blonde mane, and a very chipper mare of pink and dark blue. "Uh, yeah. I'm real sorry, but I can't–"

The mare spoke up. "Are they REALLY not letting you in there!?" I suppose it was more shouting than speaking. "Oh my GOODNESS, that's ridiculous. You're his COLTFRIEND for Luna's sake!"

My ears folded down. "I appreciate the thought, but there's a lot going on, and–"

She was already digging into her purse. "Oh, NONSENSE. You should be in there waiting for him. Sunny, you're better at art than me." She passed the stallion a small sticky pad and a pencil, and his eyes brightened. "That's just AWFUL that they'd keep you out here like this." She held out a hoof and literally pushed me back to management while I tried to protest, but she was very strong for her size. "Excuse me, but we have a special delivery here."

I gulped. "Ma'am, I'm not sure what–"

Management cut in, "Absolutely not, and unless you want to be escorted off the premises, you want to back off right now."

I felt a slap on my left flank that made me jump. I looked to see that the stallion had attached a sticky note to me. On it, he’d drawn a pie with wings and a parachute. He smiled wide and said, "It's okay. Soarin' can vouch for him."

I was stunned, and doubly so when I looked back in front of me and saw that the management was just as dumbstruck as I was.

The mare continued, "Please? Soarin' NEEDS his coltfriend right now. I’m sure of it!" Of course she didn’t know we weren’t coltfriends anymore. Soarin’ would never have let word get out about something that could hurt me. My eyes got wet knowing he was still thinking of me.

The managers huddled up. Eagle Eye made another comment about media attention and how I'd be the first one they'd look for, and that finally got them to pause.

The head honcho turned to me. "Fine. But you're a pony of interest, and you don't leave without an escort. Got it?'

I nodded. "Y-yeah. Of course."

"Good. Follow me." He gave me a color-coded pass. "Temporary. Don't lose it." He didn't waste time, and as if yanked by a rope, I followed, my head still spinning.

I looked over my shoulder and mumbled, "Uh, thank you! For this!" The couple just smiled and waved as management escorted them away. Even if I didn’t know who they were, I was grateful, and I wondered if Jonah and Skywise had sent them.

As much as I wanted to understand what was happening, my stomach turned and reminded me about the next few moments. Soarin’ was here, in this building, and I was being led to him, and I would hate what I’d find.

The halls were sterile and tight, brightly lit with white, unnatural light. Everything was organized and far too clean. It smelled like stale death and chemical wash. Nothing about it said healing, just stasis.

Every room had a whiteboard outside with names and a schedule, and I looked at every single one. I saw Soarin's name from ten paces away. Once I did, I fixated on it and nothing else, to the point that I bumped into the manager in front of me. He turned around with a snort. "We're here. You are to wait in this room and, again, not leave without an escort. Understand?"

I folded my ears down. "Y-yes, sir." I peeked inside the room. The lights were out, and the bed was neatly made. I turned back to the manager and, with the tone of a foal who'd lost his favorite toy, I asked, "Where's Soarin'?"

His face tightened, all except his eyes. "Information will be shared when it's deemed appropriate."

"You don't know, do you?"

"I–" His voice caught in his throat. He let out a rumbling breath through his nose. "No. We… all hope for the best." He held the door open, and his voice softened. "Wait here. We'll send somepony to check on you once the front area is secure."

I nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome." He waited for me to walk in, and then he left.

It was a perverse mirror of the fancy hotel rooms that we'd stayed in so many times. The walls were clean, the metal was polished, and the private bathroom looked spotless. But there was no color to be seen. It was all white and chrome. I had to keep looking at my hoof to make sure I wasn't colorblind.

I had nothing to do but wait. The rush of my trip was wearing off, and the exhaustion of two days’ travel was finally creeping up on me. The heat of adrenaline was replaced with the cold fear that I'd come all this way just to not see him. It paralyzed me. I was so still that the automatic lights turned off.

A nurse walked past, did a double-take, and then knocked on the door. "Sir, can I help you?"

"I don't know." My joints were stiff. I shook my head and told myself to be reasonable. "Do you know where Soarin' is?"

She frowned. "I'm sorry, but I can't give that information out." With a once-over, she added, "And visiting hours are over. You shouldn't be here." She made a move into the room and stood next to a small panel with a few buttons. I had no doubt that one of them called security.

My mind did a backflip thinking about trying to get back in the building. "It–" I gulped. "It's alright. I have a pass. See?" I dug it out and held it up with a wobbly hoof. "Security brought me here."

The lights flickered on as she stepped in and examined my pass. She frowned. "I'm very sorry, but only immediate family is allowed."

And… What I said next was the most natural-sounding lie I've ever told. "It's okay. I'm his husband."

I couldn’t believe what I’d said, and yet, it sounded exactly like me.

She blinked and recoiled. "Oh! I'm… very sorry. I didn't realize he was married."

My stomach dropped, but I couldn't bail out now. I shrugged and grimaced. "Well, yeah! Celebrity marriages and all that. Heh heh." I could feel the sweat on my forehead. When she turned her head at me, I kept babbling while I dug out my ID. "See, I don't wanna brag, but it was a mighty big story a couple months ago. I'm Braeburn. Uh, Apple. But, please don't tell anypony I told you. Heh."

I fumbled my ID onto the floor. She picked it up and looked at both sides. "I don't suppose you have your marriage license on you?" She eyed my hoof. "Or a ring for that matter?"

I froze. If she was going to throw me out before, how much worse would it be after lying about being family?

My ear flicked, and I felt the weight of him, like it was meant to be. "Our studs. We didn't use rings. Wanted to be different." My chest tightened when I realized I had no proof, but I had faith in Big Blue. "Did you check inside his flight suit? It should’ve been there during the show, pinned right near his heart."

The nurse narrowed her eyes, but she walked over to an unmarked cabinet on the wall, took out a key, and unlocked it. "You may want to turn away. This could be upsetting." She put on some gloves and pulled out a small bin.

My stomach churned. There was a sealed bag, and inside was a flight suit, stained red all over the legs and stomach. It had been all cut up with scissors, likely to get it off him. I felt black creep around my vision, but I held onto my wits.

Mercifully, she was quick. She found the chest and mumbled something as she pulled the backing off the stud and removed it. Slowly, she turned around and held it out to me. "Very sorry, Mister Apple. I imagine you want to keep this close."

I just nodded.

She gave it to me and then headed for the door. "The couch folds out if you'd like. Let me know if you need anything."

There was just one thing I needed. "Is Soarin' okay?"

"He's in the ICU." She paused and saw me twisting my head at her. "The intensive care unit. He's experiencing a coma–" My heart tore in half. "–but the good news is that he's partially responsive, and there's no obvious swelling in his brain. Given his history of head injury, he needs careful monitoring overnight, but we hope to transfer him her in the morning if there are no further complications."

"Can I see him?"

She frowned. "I'm very sorry, but I don't think that's wise. I'll let you know when we have more information." She paused at the door. "Try to get some rest. He's in good hooves."

She left, and the room fell back into silence.

I flopped onto my back on the couch. She'd mentioned it being a pullout, but I could already tell that it was more comfortable as is. I groaned and threw a foreleg over my face.

Immediately, I wanted to spit on myself. 'I called him my husband.' I sighed with a rumble. 'Where the hell do I get off doing something like that? We ain’t even dating anymore!'

I was still holding his stud, so I took my foreleg away from my eyes, letting the light hit me square in the face. I held it up. Soarin's stud. The light filtered through, and sure enough, it shone like my coat on a summer day.

"Husband." It came out all gnarled this time, like I'd swallowed a tree knot. I remembered everything we’d talked about in that hotel room in Baltimare. It all flooded back: why it had gone wrong, how we needed to give each other space to grow, and why we knew it wasn’t right. And yet, here I was, lying about being closer to him than I had any right to be. But I couldn’t just let it end like this. My eyes stung. “F… Fuck…”

I fiddled with the stud until the automatic lights turned off again, and it finally hit me how tired I was. I bet I’d gotten less than 10 hours of sleep in the last three nights combined, and with nothing else to do but wait and pray, I pinned the stud to my vest and let sleep take me. I drifted away with the thought, 'I'll wait as long as it takes, Blue. Please be okay.'

==X===X===X===X===X==

Braeburn clutches his chest. “Gets me exhausted just thinking about it. And yet, deep in my heart, I knew what I wanted.”

Gently, I ask, “Have you… thought about marriage since then?”

Braeburn folds his hooves, and his eyebrows knit. He looks down at Mane Street, where Soarin’ is having a hurried conversation at the food table. “I have, but… I don’t… I won’t tie him down like that. I know what it’s like, being bound to a place, bound to a pony when your destiny is calling you across the country. I need to settle. He needs to roam. We need each other.” He scoffs. “We ain’t figured it out yet, but every day that goes by is another day closer to Soarin’s recovery. We’re both eager for him to try out for the Bolts again – he talks about it all the time – but what happens when he does?” He shakes his head. “I told you before, I still don’t know the answer.”

==X===X===X===X===X==

I woke up cranky to the smell of wilted spinach and old hash, and I sat bolt upright. “Soarin’!?”

Eagle Eye leapt back. “Yeesh! Sorry, Braeburn. Just me.”

Eagle Eye had good news, at least. Soarin’ had done well overnight, but they needed to run a few more tests. He’d brought me lunch, if you want to call it that, and I thanked him for his kindness. He said I’d be the first to know when there was news.

And so, I had another day of waiting, just like on the train. This one was even worse, and I was jumpy at every little movement in the otherwise motionless room. My head cranked to see every pony that walked by. I did it so much my neck hurt, and except for a few walks around the floor to keep myself from going stir-crazy (with an escort, of course), I didn’t leave.

In the late afternoon, the air changed. I think I smelled him first, but the wrongness of it sent my brain into a thunderous panic. I leapt up from the couch where I’d been trying to read one of my books, just as the first corner of the bed came into view. The same nurse from before pushed him in on a bed with a bum wheel.

There he was, on his back, wings strapped down and forelegs held up in the air with restraints, both of them in casts that were stained the lightest pink for reasons I didn’t want to think about. He was out, but not really asleep. His eyes moved too much, like those nights where he was worried I was leaving him. All sorts of wires and tubes were attached to him, feeding fluids into machines or into his legs, but for the moment, at least, none of them were screaming in panic.

“Soarin’...”

The nurse – I never did get her name, did I? – set him up in one corner of the room and re-checked every little wire and tube as she spoke. “We’ve got some good news. He’s had a few short conversations today, though he doesn’t seem to remember them. He’s very in-and-out, so please don’t expect too much of him. He needs rest.”

His body… It looked so broken, and I had none of the tools to fix it. “Can I hold him?”

She grunted and turned her head. “Officially, no, but I’ve been around long enough to know I can’t stop you. Please be gentle.” She finished checking a few more things before she left again. “Mind the wires. I’ll be back in five minutes to finish another check-in.”

It was quiet, save for the beeps and whirring of the machines, a harsh lullaby that was too regular to be natural. I stepped towards him. It felt like walking on broken glass. "H… Hey there, Blue."

There was a joy in seeing him again. His chest was just like I remembered. It was sweaty and a little matted. I think I focused on it because it was the only thing that looked normal. Like petting a newborn kitten, I stroked that soft chest. "Oh, Blue…"

I… had this idea that he'd wake up right when I touched him, just like in the stories. When he didn't, I…

…

It… wasn't pretty. The nurses heard me wailing and rushed to check on me, and they had to get a stallion in to pry me from his bedside. I kept blubbering about how it was my fault and how I was sorry, and my legs shook so much I couldn't stand. It took me a good twenty minutes to calm down. There was one pony in the world I wanted, and he was right there, locked away from me by his own mind and body, all because of the choices I’d made. Choices we’d made together.

Once I’d caught my breath, I turned to the nurse and said, “I’ll be okay. Thank you.” She gave me some vague encouragement, but it fell on deaf ears, and a security pony stayed with me for another ten minutes to be sure I wasn’t out of my mind. He left with a warning that he’d be nearby.

And, once again, I was alone with my Big Blue.

But… the feeling washed over me that he wasn’t really mine.

I brought a stool over and sat at his bedside. I put my hoof on his chest again while the machines continued their rhythmic chirps. I hung my head. “I know what you’re gonna say, Soarin’. You’re gonna tell me I shouldn’t be worried about you. You’re gonna do everything you can to make me feel better.” My head shook. “That ain’t gonna do it this time, Big Blue. I–” I choked up, like I’d swallowed an apple whole. “I need you to come back to me. I need to apologize for this one. Please. Please come back to me, Blue.” I looked up, expecting some eye flutters or any other sign that I was getting through to him.

That ain’t how it works.

My jaw clenched and quivered at the same time. I stood from the stool, and it made a horrible screeching noise, but that didn’t even get a rise out of Soarin’. That made my heart sink even lower. I wanted to collapse on him, but I knew a broken leg when I saw two of them. I had to be gentle.

I hugged him. He’s the love of my life. How could you fault me for it? I hugged him, and I laid there with him, careful not to put too much pressure. I inhaled his scent. Even with the sterility in the air, I felt it tingle the back of my mind, all the way to my spine, and, well… You get loopy in a situation like that, and I briefly wondered if some love-making would help him wake up, but I realized pretty quickly how, uh… nonconsensual that would be, among all the other problems.

I needed a moment of normalcy, though. I needed him to know, deep down, that I was with him. I remembered the first time he’d told me he loves me, how he held me and nibbled my ear in a way that made me feel so safe and secure. I couldn’t preen him with his wings strapped down, so that would have to do.

It felt right, having his soft ear in my mouth. The taste was just like I remembered, and the feeling of every little hair on my lips told me that he was real, still breathing. That we were together. My tongue even found the hole for his piercing, and I played around with it. I lingered until it got wet, and I whispered to him, “I’ll be right here, Blue. You heal up. I’ve got all the time in the world.” When I was ready, I pulled back, and I looked him over again.

No, he wasn’t my Blue. But I was his Applebutt. A part of me would be his forever. I never wanted him to doubt it, so I took the stud from my vest and put it back in his ear.

To stop me from crawling into bed with him, I lay back on the couch and rambled at him. “I’m still real sorry, Big Blue. I know I’ll get over it, but this ain’t at all what I wanted. I… suppose you want to hear about somethin’ else, though, right? Let’s see… Heh. I know you said you don’t want foals, but Slate’s new colt would change your mind in a heartbeat.”

I spoke to him, on and off, for hours. When I wasn’t talking, I’d just lie on the couch as the minutes ticked by. I didn’t even eat dinner that night. I didn’t want to not be there when he woke up, and as I was drifting off, I remember telling him, “You’ve always been there for me, Soarin’. I want to be there for you, too. You just gotta wake up, Blue. I’ll be here whenever you can come get me.” My eyes fluttered closed, and I fell asleep, worrying that I’d never hold him again.

But what did I tell you? Soarin’ Windsong always comes back.

==X===X===X===X===X==

Braeburn stands and stretches his hips, then nods at the hill. We begin our descent towards the orchard.

"That must have been a relief," I say.

"Heh, a relief and a panic. He was in and out so fast, and I was overjoyed that he said a few words, but, well…"

"Yes?"

"Soarin' didn't much approve of me blaming myself for his injuries. He made that displeasure known, even though it hurt him to do so. That meant, well… It meant that I didn't have a reason to stay. I'd come to apologize, and I had, and that was that. But he told me he could hear me, and he asked me to stay with the few words he could manage. How could I say no? I promised to stay with him as long as it took, and I would keep talking all night if it helped him."

==X===X===X===X===X==

I kept a hoof on his hip and talked to him about anything that came to mind. A lot of it was repeating our favorite memories together, hoping that would shake him out of it.

And it was so strange. Soarin' has said that he always felt on the edge of being asleep and awake, and it showed. Around three in the morning, when my voice was getting hoarse, he lifted his head and asked in a remarkably clear voice, "Can I wake up now, Braeburn?"

I blinked at him. "You're… already awake, Soarin'."

He shook his head, and his voice got groggy. "No. I'm asleep. You wanna wake up?"

It was like seeing a pony with their mane and tail switched. The pieces were there, but it didn't add up. "We're awake. We're having this conversation."

"Oh." He paused. "You should sleep. I'll keep watch."

"I gotta watch over you, Big Blue."

"Is okay. I can watch him." His eyes closed, and he was back out.

Utterly bizarre, and my imagination tortured me with visions of him being this way for his whole life. He doesn't remember that conversation, nor several others like it.

I kept talking as long as I could, but I fell asleep around four, hunched over the bed with my head resting against Soarin's side. For as little sleep as I got, it was restful, and I felt safe with my head against his body.

"Uh… Braeburn? Good to see you."

I startled just before sunrise, and my neck hurt like hell. I blinked until a cream-colored stallion with a blazing mane came into view. "Fire Streak?"

Streak stood there in his captain's stance, proud but a little less solid than the pony behind him. Spitfire took a step forward. She had her sunglasses on, even indoors. "How's he been?"

I rubbed my eyes and looked at Soarin', who hadn't moved since I'd gone out. "About like this. He comes in and out. Can't really predict when." I tried to shake off the exhaustion, but nothing doing. "Sorry. I'm not really explaining well."

Fire Streak's eyes dipped down. "You look like you haven't slept, Braeburn. Are you okay?"

Spitfire cut in. "He's clearly not."

"Spitfire!"

"He's here, isn't he? Not a very good breakup if he's already back after a couple weeks."

Streak snorted. "Over the line, captain."

Spitfire paused in a way I'd never known her to. She took a deep breath and sighed. "Am I wrong, Braeburn?"

My head drooped, and I rubbed Soarin's hind leg. "Naw. I know I ain't supposed to be here, but… I can't leave him like this."

Streak cocked an eyebrow. "How'd you get here so fast? The story just broke yesterday."

"I'll tell you someday." Even then, I knew not to spread rumors. Maybe I should have told him so they could catch Bronze, but Soarin' wouldn't have wanted me to stir up more trouble for myself. He told me as much one day.

The two of them stayed a while and offered words of encouragement. We chatted, but I can't tell you about what, and then they left, saying they'd come back tomorrow. I wouldn't see them again for months.

Spitfire's words stuck with me. "I'm here, ain't I?" I stroked Soarin's mane. He moaned in pleasure, and I wondered if he was close to the surface. I rambled about Slate and his new colt again. My throat hurt, but I kept on. When Soarin' opened his eyes, I couldn't help but chuckle. "Heh. Your timin' is terrible. Fire Streak and Spitfire were just here." I gently patted his chest. "They were real worried about you. Said they'd try again tomorrow."

Soarin' took a look around the room, but he was feeling it as much as I was, and he knew he didn't have much time. "Sorry, Applebutt. I'm fading again, but we… need to talk."

My first instinct was to argue, but I was already primed for the conversation. "Yeah, you're…" I looked down. "You're right." I traced his chest with my eyes and my hoof. "First thing when you wake up?"

He was already collapsing back into bed. "Yeah. Get some… rest, Braeburn. I promise I'll come back."

"Same, Soarin'." I stroked him again, but he was already out. I kissed his forehead. My eyes felt ready to fall out of my head, so I dragged myself over to the couch and did as I was told.

Four hours, tops, but it was something. Only, I'm not sure it did much good. You know how sometimes, before a big meal, you're not hungry at all, but after that first bite, you're starving? It was like that. I wanted to sink so deep into that couch that I’d become part of it, but the sunlight would have none of that.

My stomach was complaining, too. I looked up and saw that Soarin' was still out but breathing. "I'll be right back, Blue,” I whispered. “Actually…" I found a notepad and made a little tent sign with the words, "Be right back. ~Applebutt"

I hadn't seen hide nor hair of Wonderbolts management all night, so I assumed they'd figured I wasn't a risk. I peeked out in the hallway. Eagle Eye spotted me, but he just waved me through.

As I stepped out, I tried not to think about how long I'd been in that room. It was a maze navigating those hallways, but with some guidance, I made it to the front desk, where a stylish, older mare was raising her voice about some policy or other to the poor desk worker. I paid it no mind and walked past to the cafeteria.

The food was as miserable and sour as my mood. Stewed, salty spinach, dry oat cakes, some fruit that tasted like it'd been around the world a few times… I shouldn't complain, though. I was grateful to have anything. I choked some of it down before my appetite gave out.

And I was surprised when that mare from the front desk waltzed to my table, set down a bouquet of blue flowers, and stated, very plainly, "You're Braeburn, right?"

I blinked at her, and my imagination snapped back to all those interviews with the media. I started to lie. "Sorry, you must be…" I finally got a good look at her. Powder blue coat, a mane the same shade and volume as Soarin's (though much less messy), with just a hint of smugness when she realized she was right. It clicked together. "Oh! You must be Ms. Nim–"

"Jet is fine," she interrupted. "Preferable, really. I don't want to feel old." She took a small perfume bottle out and offered it to me. "You want a bit?"

I frowned and tried to subtly sniff myself. "Sorry, do I smell that bad?"

"Nah, it's just gin." She sprayed it into her open mouth, then replaced the cap. "I know they don't want it to be a frat house in here, but like, it's a bit puritanical, right? To not let a worried mother calm herself down?" She smiled. I think that was her way of joking. In a way, it reminded me of Blue. "I'm already going to write them a supremely bitchy letter about not letting me see my son."

"I, uh, I wouldn't know." A few rusty gears turned in my head. "Did… so Soarin' reached out to you?"

She nodded. "He did. It was very big of him."

“That’s… that’s wonderful, Jet.” My heart swelled at the first good news of the day. "I'm proud of him."

"I think I'd feel the same if I'd been a better mom." She took a deep breath. "But we're starting to make it work. We've got a Skywise memorial date here in a couple months if he's up for it." Her face darkened. "How is he?'

I pushed the spinach around my plate with a spoon. "He'll be okay. Eventually. Only I, uh… I might not see it."

She folded her forelegs and sat back. "Leaving is hard, isn't it?"

"Ha! Don't we know it." I looked up, and she had this expression on her. I've only ever seen it on Ma and Granny Smith. "I take it Soarin' told you about us?"

"He did. Frankly, when I saw you today, I didn't believe it was you at first." She leaned on one hoof and looked all over my face. "Buuuuut you matched the description. You have that youthful, innocent look that made me think you're, like, barely legal."

I cocked an eyebrow. "I'm twenty-six, Jet."

"Thank Luna. I was worried Sky had raise a pedophile." She casually took another squirt of gin. "Still swinging a few years younger, though."

I laughed. "Not too many. And he's pretty coltish himself."

"He's got a great spirit." She sighed and looked me up and down. "I'm glad he's got you here, but I hope you don't feel tied to him." She shrugged. "You broke up. He's not your responsibility."

"That's a… mighty detached way to look at things." My spine lit up with electricity as I remembered who I was talking to. "Sorry! I-I didn't mean anything by it!"

"Ha!" She threw her head back in a way that reminded me eerily of Soarin'. "You're all good. I'm not delusional, Braeburn. I realize I'm the last fucking pony you should take relationship advice from." She mumbled something. "Though I've got some if you're looking for it."

"I'll take whatever I can get."

She didn't wait a breath, like she was going to say it no matter what I'd said. "Time away is important." She brushed her mane absentmindedly. "You get so deep into something that you can’t see it clearly anymore. You think that what you’re feeling is going to last forever, because you can't imagine it being any different."

I paused. "Does it get better?"

She grunted. "It does if you're not a fuckup." She turned away, then forced herself to face me. "Sorry. I can tell you this much: it stops getting worse, at least. Sometimes when you're in freefall, it's enough to just glide. Or… something. I don't know any good earth pony metaphors."

"You're fine." I waved a hoof and scratched at my head. "...though I'm not sure I follow."

Jet forced herself to stop fidgeting and folded her hooves. "I needed to get away from Sky. And, unfortunately, the cost of that was not getting to see Soarin'." Looking down, she shook her head. "Yeah, I made mistakes, but would Soarin' have been better off with two parents who were at each other's throats, compared to a dad who devoted his whole life to him? I don't think so. And being away helped me reevaluate my life and what I needed. It sucked, but it made things better." She looked up at me with a broken smile. "And time away from Soarin' will do the same for you. Maybe you'll end up together again someday. I dunno. But I do know you'll never be satisfied if you just keep coming back to him and not standing on your own hooves." She put a hoof on mine. "Soarin' thinks the world of you. Give yourself a chance to shine, like he knows you can."

She held my hoof, and I gave hers a squeeze. She had a weary strength to her. I recognized it, and again, it reminded me of Granny. It felt like somepony who was exhausted but who had gotten very good at working through it. "So… Jet. Why did you really come sit with me today?"

A tired smile. That's all I got, and it was enough. We shared a deep breath.

Jet laughed. "Like I said, take what I say with a grain of salt, because who am I to talk?" She stood up and grabbed her purse. "I’ll try again, though. And could you do me a favor and deliver these flowers for me?"

I smiled at her. "Of course."

"Thanks. You're a good pony, Braeburn. Spend time on yourself. You deserve it."

As she turned to leave, I said, "You're gettin' pretty good at that mom stuff, y' know."

That stopped her in her tracks. She took a beat, looked over her shoulder, and gave me a wink before walking to the door.

The flowers smelled like a field after the summer rains. It wasn't hard to see who they represented, and that seemed mighty big of her. I picked them up, disposed of my half-eaten meal, and walked back to Soarin's room.

There had been other deliveries, and the small table was already crowded with gifts. I put Jet's flowers front and center, right where Big Blue would see them.

And I was back to waiting. A dark part of me wished he'd stay asleep so I wouldn't have to go through it all again, but I'd promised him. I loved him too much to abandon him. Regardless, my body couldn't take it, and I fell asleep again for another short nap until a nurse brought me some coffee.

Blue finally stirred in the mid-afternoon, and we… Heh. We both stalled. We talked about his mother and how I got into the hospital and laughed at the absurdity of it all. It felt fine until he got all serious, and he was the first to say it: “Braeburn, we both know it wouldn’t work.”

That was the heart of it. Well, the head of it, I suppose. The heart wants what it wants, but for once, we had to lead with our logic. And on that level, I appreciated it.

Even if I’m still cursing it to this day.

Soarin’ shook his head. “Not right now. Not like this. I’m going to be pretty useless for Luna-knows how long, and I won’t tie you down again.”

I looked out the window, out at that big city that kept moving, kept buzzing despite everything. It seemed unfair. Didn’t they know somepony was suffering here? Somepony important, who meant the world, who was unique among every other pony I’d ever met? And even then, it needed to keep moving. Those ponies out there couldn’t put the world on hold, not even for a Wonderbolt. I was facing out west, towards Appleloosa. Didn’t I have the same responsibility? I’d rushed here at a moment’s notice, leaving it all behind. Again. Soarin’ was willing to face the truth, and I needed to be, too.

I turned back to him. He was so gentle around the eyes. I petted his sweaty, messy mane and felt the coarse fibers one more time. “You're right, Blue. You're right. Heh. It's no wonder I fell for a pony who's so smart and kind."

Soarin’ could feel the finality in my words, and he flinched. "I-I mean, maybe someday if–"

But it was my turn to take the lead. "Let's, uh… Let's not do that to ourselves, Soarin'." I felt his chest. His heartbeat was strong and healthy. "If it happens, it'll make me happy, but we… We can't. Not now. Like you said, not like this."

He lowered his eyes. "Yeah. No point in torturing ourselves."

"Right."

He stared at my hoof on his chest. We were both thinking the same thing, but this time, I let him say it first. "I still love you, Braeburn."

"I still love you, too." The easiest thing in the world to say. I saw his eyes flutter, and at first, I thought he was crying, but all too soon, I realized that he was slipping away again. My heart ached. It pumped harder, trying to overwhelm my brain’s ability to make the right choice. "Is there anything I can do for you while I'm here? Anything at all?"

He didn’t hesitate. He knew what was coming, too, that big, brave pegasus of mine. "Don't make me say goodbye again."

My eyes watered, but I couldn’t help but laugh. "Makin' me do it instead? Heh heh." I gave him the biggest hug I could without hurting him. "I can do that, Soarin'. I'll, uh… I guess I'll just… stay until you fall back asleep." I recoiled at the thought, but Soarin’ used his little bit of movement to rub me with his hind leg.

His eyes fluttered fast. "Thanks, Applebutt."

I held him. I didn’t know if I could ever let go. "How you wanna pass the time?"

He smiled, and he said the one thing that could make me happy, because even at a moment like that, Soarin’ put me first. "Tell me about Appleloosa."

I gasped. I smiled. He… wanted me to tell him how much I was thriving, to remind me that I’d be okay. And, well, he knew me. He knew I wouldn’t stop once I got going. "Aw, you should see it, Blue. Everything's in bloom, and the late summer varietals are just startin' to come in." I think my tail whipped like a puppy’s as I thought about it all. "And even if it's too hot in the daytime to go whole hog, the nights are cool and pleasant, and the dances are wilder than I've ever seen."

Soarin’ mumbled, "Do you dance much these days?"

My voice cracked, but I wouldn’t let him see me frown. "Heh. I-I'm the talk of the town, Soarin'. A few of the townsponies think my new style's a bit weird, but it makes all the tourists more comfortable. They like seein' somepony else who doesn't quite fit."

His eyes closed. They stayed closed. His mouth moved, but nothing came out. I felt like I was hanging by a single piece of straw.

"B-but… But I do fit in there, Blue." I sobbed, no matter how hard I tried to fight it. "I get it now. I got it when I stepped off the train and everypony was jealous of my blue stud – mares and stallions alike. They–… Dammit. They s-say it makes me look more confident, and even some of the usual nay-sayers have been quieter lately."

Soarin’ lay still. He wiggled a little, like he was trying to tell me he was still there.

I wouldn’t let him down. "Heh. Amazin' what a little change can do for a pony. Or a big one, I-I suppose.” Every word felt so inadequate, but I kept talking, in the hope that some of it would get through. “But I'm… I'm grateful, S-Soarin'. Appleloosa feels like–… It feels like h-home, and I'm happy there. Truly happy, Soarin', so don't you worry 'bout me. I'll be fine, Big Blue. I'll be okay. I promise I’ll be okay, even if we’re apart."

The machines beeped and whirred. His breathing was deep and even. Like an anvil on my chest, I realized I might never hear his voice again. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shake him awake or ask a nurse to bring some blankets so I could wait by his side forever. I wanted to write a letter to Slate and tell him that Appleloosa was his now, to do with what he pleased. I wanted anything to change, so that I wouldn’t have to keep my promise.

But… that thought put a wrinkle in my chest. We’d promised each other we’d let each other go. I couldn’t save Soarin’. It wasn’t my place. He had what he needed, and as much as we wanted each other, we… didn’t need each other. Not then. Maybe never again.

My body felt like a puppet with cut strings. Soarin’ lay below me. I ran a hoof across his face and by his ear, where his stud glinted in the artificial light. The breath escaped my body, and it felt like a part of my soul was being left behind. “...And you’ll be okay, too. I have to believe that.” I leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. And then, as gentle as I could, I said, “I love you, Soarin’ Windsong, and I’m so proud of you.”

With a view of him sleeping peacefully, I closed my eyes, and I walked out of the room.

I don’t remember that walk. I think Eagle Eye must have taken my pass at some point, and I hope I wasn’t too rude, but I could hardly focus on anything. I was too busy telling myself to do the hardest thing in the world: just let it be.

There were a few flashes of the outside world. I remember the sun hitting my face. The city air was stale, but so much better than inside. The crowds had dispersed outside the hospital.

Actually, they'd crowded around a news stand instead. Almost exclusively stallions, and it didn't take long to see why. The stand had a slap-dash, hoof-written sign that just read, "WHIPPED CREAM!" Curiosity got the better of me, and I waited in line to see what the rush was all about.

And wow, I couldn't believe they were allowed to sell papers with pictures like that. It was Soarin's ex, Sapphire Shores, splayed out in all kinds of lewd poses and covered in whipped cream. I'm gay through and through, but I'd be lying if I said those images didn't get my imagination running a bit wild with ideas. I think… It felt like too much of a coincidence, for something like that to be all over when Soarin’ had just crashed a few days ago. I considered whether the Wonderbolts had anything to do with it, but it wasn’t really their style. I wanted to believe that the universe had somehow known we both wanted to be left alone, and it gave us a break. Turns out, it was one last bizarre gift from the most thoughtful pony in the world.

The gruff salespony grumbled, "Buy it or move along, bub."

"Oh! Uh… s-sure." I panicked and bought a paper and two magazines, since I felt bad for gawking, but that left me with a foreleg full of smut to deal with in public. I groaned as I stepped away, and I thought, 'Maybe Pride will want 'em.'

If nothing else, it gave me something to focus on as I waited at the train station. I read those rags front to back, and when the train came, I found my seat and had a good, long think. The buildings outside flew further apart in a way that felt too metaphorical not to laugh at.

'There was a lot less ceremony this time,' I thought. But, then again, Blue and I had already said our goodbyes. As horrifying as the last couple days had been, it was just a bonus on top of our time together. I got to reaffirm that we'd made the right choice, because even after seeing each other again, we knew we'd be okay, and we stayed the course. It felt right, even though it hurt.

Jet's words rattled around in my head, and I asked myself, 'When's the last time I went after what I wanted? Really tested myself to see if I could get it?' I shifted in my seat. 'Hell, what do I want for that matter?'

The train continued pulling away from the city, and I started seeing more trees. 'More trees, for one. I want more for Appleloosa. I want more out of my town.' It felt uncomfortably passive, so I corrected myself. 'I want to do more with it. Been ignoring it for far too long.' A pang of shame pierced my heart. How long now had I been so focused on my love life that I hadn't shepherded Appleloosa to its full potential? A year, maybe? And what did that full potential look like?

I stopped looking out the window. Instead, I leaned back in my chair, eyes toward the ceiling. A lot of ideas sprung to mind, some that I'd put away months ago, some that were brand new. My skin tingled with the possibilities. A smile worked its way across my face, even as my tiredness started to take me.

But before it did, I said aloud to myself, "Rest up, Braeburn, 'cuz then it's time to see what you're really made of."

Comments

[Boxpone]

Great work as ever, Vivid !
Perfectly timed as well - as I just finished going through Sensation a second time, and was wondering about the hospital scene from Braeburn’s perspective.
Thanks for taking the time to write this.

[jxj]

Great work as ever. It was good to see jet a bit more. And one step closer to soarin and braeburn getting back together.

[Vivid Syntax]

11666207
Glad you're still enjoying it! The flashback/overlap chapters have been very difficult to write in general, but this one was actually pretty fun in a way. I especially liked getting to write the scene with Jet.

[Vivid Syntax]

11668293
What a relief it will be to be back in new territory.

And even if we don't skip that far ahead, the next chapter covers some new ground that I'm excited to write about.

[Boxpone]

11668326
“New ground”, Vivid ? I’m further intrigued …..

[Just-A-Micro]

11668326
Is the new ground buckball?

[Vivid Syntax]

11680546
Perhaps at some point!

[Vivid Syntax]

11680447
I'm glad it's resonating.