Sensation - Appleloosa

by Vivid Syntax

Chapter 8 - The Caress of Feathers

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

We catch our breath at the top of the hill. Braeburn wasn't kidding about the view, and we're careful not to step anywhere near the buffalo grounds. The orchard looks healthy and strong, arranged in neat rows, and I get to smell that beautiful scent on the breeze again.

Braeburn points to a tree. "See that wide one, with the little bare spot on the left side? That's the one I was digging a hole for. And the cluster over on the right? Those are the ones Bronze watered that day.” He sets his hoof down and gazes, pensive, at all of it. “They're all doing well. Take whatever message you want from that, I suppose."

I look out over the scenery. "Sounds like Bronze established himself quickly."

"And that's what made him so appealing. None of this…" Braeburn waves a hoof in front of his face, like he's clearing smoke. "...uncertainty about tomorrow."

I tilt my head. This uncertainty, Braeburn?

He continues. "He wanted to set down his roots. I think that's what he was looking for, just like me. A place he could live and be content and call his own." He shakes his head. "But maybe I was too stubborn to give any of it up. But then again, Appleloosa is my home. I built it with my friends. Hell, there's only six of us from the original group still here. Sticking around for the better part of a decade counts for something, right?"

I nod and let him continue.

He hangs his head. "But Bronze wanted to get as deep in as I was. Maybe that's admirable. I dunno. At the time, at least, it seemed wonderful." He sighs. "And maybe it's what I needed."

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

We were true to our word and kept things family-friendly all week, and then, well, we disappeared into my house for two days and came out smelling worse than two pigs in a garbage heap.

It was the happiest, most relieved I’d ever felt. And part of me still hates him for that. And the rest of me hates myself for hating him for it. He gave me comfort. He stood up for me. I can’t help but wonder sometimes, what would it have been like if it had worked out?

…

I don't like to think about it for too long.

We'd been dating for three weeks or so. Seeing each other more frequently, but not too frequently. Dinner almost every night. Spending pleasurable time together just as often as we could.

We were cuddling on a Sunday night. Didn't shower afterwards, because I needed to wash the sheets the next day anyway, and it felt nice to just be held. I had my face on Bronze’s chest while he brushed my back with his wings. It felt like he was slicing through all the tension in my body, and I could have sworn I melted into a puddle of liquid pony.

Which, again, would have been fine on account of the upcoming laundry day.

Bronze was on his back with a foreleg around my shoulder. "Mmm… that was mighty fine, Applebutt." He moaned. "Mighty fine indeed."

"Better than fine, Wings," I mumbled, some drool spilling out my mouth.

"Haha!" Feeling his chest rumble made the dark room seem bright. "Didn't quite get that, cutie. Ya' fallin' asleep? Or just so stallion-happy that it's addled your brain?"

"Bit o' both," I moaned.

He rubbed my back and kissed my head. "You know, the straights–" He always said that word with a tiny flash of malice. "–they always say to gay ponies, well you just haven't met the right mare yet."

My head rolled to the side so I could hear him better. "Heard that one plenty. What's your point?"

He hugged me tight. "Maybe they just haven't met the right stallion. Ass like that could turn the staunchest breeder to our team.” He tapped my butt. “Maybe we should try it."

I laughed into him and kissed under his chin. "Hell naw, because it's my parents that say shit like that to me."

Bronze roared with another laugh. "Well, I guess your daddy's my responsibility, then. Think he can ride half as good as you?"

I buried my face in his pit to muffle a gleeful, disgusted laugh-scream.

Bronze snorted. "Aw, don't be like that. Just imagine: I could take your daddy back around the house, press him against the wall and–"

"Ain't listening!" I stuffed my hooves into my ears. "I ain't listening!" I wrenched my eyes shut, but I couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of it.

Bronze tickled my sides so I'd flinch, and he gave me a big kiss. "Naw, you've already ruined me for other stallions. I would like to meet him, though. Your Ma, too." He squeezed me. "Figure it’s the only way, since you're so tight-lipped about 'em."

I sighed. "They're still not over me being gay, hon."

"And they ain't gonna get over it unless you force 'em." Something in the air always changed when Bronze got all determined. At first it had been electrifying, but even after just a few weeks, it put me on edge. I was learning to give in. "Might as well get 'em there sooner."

"They'll come around, Wings," I offered weakly.

Bronze petted the back of my head. "And in the meantime, what? Let their sourness hurt my coltfriend? Naw, naw. That won't do."

My hooves tingled, and I smiled. "So I'm your coltfriend now?"

He hugged me close. "Course. I know you want to move slow…" I didn't. He knew it. "...but I wanna be in your life for a long time, Braeburn, and I don't want to waste a moment. When can I meet ‘em?"

My head spun. I had so many thoughts about how badly it could go that I couldn’t hardly picture any of them. "This feels real sudden, hon."

"Nonsense.” Bronze rolled on his side to face me. “The longer you wait, the more entrenched they get. Let's write a letter tonight. We'll see if we can visit in a couple weeks."

My brain dug for excuses while my stomach churned. "It's so soon."

Bronze smirked down at me. "How long since you came out again?"

My ears drooped. "...Three years."

He huffed. His warm breath rolled over my face, hot with anger. "That ain't 'soon,' Braeburn. If they ain't on board by now, they need a lesson."

My mind flashed with another scene of Bronze and my father, less absurd but no less distressing. "You ain't gonna… rough him up or anything, are ya'?" Even then, I knew.

Bronze just laughed. "Heh, only if he deserves it."

"Bronze!" I rolled onto one leg and glared at him.

He threw up his hooves "Yeesh! I was kidding! Take a joke, Braeburn." He sighed. "I promise I'll be a perfect gentlestallion.” His eyes narrowed. “You trust me enough to do that, right?"

That stung me deep. It always did. Just a few weeks in, and I already felt like I owed him so much. I’d spent years tossing about in the dark ocean, flailing for companionship, and here was a captain that seemed to know all he needed about steering a queer relationship. It all seemed so logical.

I lay my head next to his. “I trust you, Wings.”

“Good. I’m holdin’ you to that. No more hanky-panky until you show me a letter.”

I chuckled. “There’s that devil again, ready to make a deal.”

He just flashed a sharp smile.

We started that night. Bronze had all sorts of pointers, of course. He told me to keep it brief and casual – I needed to demonstrate that this was totally normal, and that they were the weird ones for not accepting it. I wasn’t to use the term “coltfriend,” either. Just “somepony special I’d like you to meet.” Set no expectations, give no details that they could object to. Make it about wanting to share something important to me, so that if they rejected it, they’d be faced with a whole mountain of guilt. They’d have to be the bad guys, and Bronze went one step further in planning our next move: if they gave a noncommittal answer, I could use my Hearth’s Warming visit as leverage. I could say that, well, we were planning on visiting Bronze’s home over the holidays, so it was either this, or they’d have to come visit us sometime, on our own turf. If they said yes, I would emphatically agree to the earliest date they suggest or imply, before they can add additional terms or back out.

You don’t get that good at a game without playing it a whole bunch.

Two days and five drafts later, Bronze sent the letter for me, and then the waiting began.

I busied myself the best I could. There were chores, of course, and a few more ponies had moved in that weekend. Grassy Ridge, bless him, was about the eagerest farmhand I’d ever seen, even if he didn’t have much practice. But, he was willing to clean up the tools and do whatever oddjobs I needed help with. It helped to show him around, and he latched onto Pridesong real quick. Those two are still great friends.

But between moments, I always felt dizzy. Thought it might have been heat stroke for a while, but I had no other symptoms. Even when I wasn’t thinking about my parents directly, it was like this weird buzzing noise in the background of everything I did. I tried not to think about what my parents would say – no expectations was good, right? – but it never stopped humming there like a fly in my ear.

And each day, I found myself checking my mailbox more and more, even when I knew the train hadn’t been in yet. And a few days in, I really, really couldn’t take it anymore. I’d gotten a nice bottle of spiced rum the last time deliveries were made to town, so after the fifth day of no mail, I marched into my house and downed two shots of it.

That smooth warmth bloomed in my throat and spread all around my body. It was like the desert flowers after even a little rain. Whole valleys will explode with color and life, and after so much worrying about what would happen, a sense of safety and peace washes over you. In those days, two shots wouldn’t hardly get me buzzed, but it was enough to take the edge off.

I set my forehead on the cool countertop and whooshed out a breath, right as Bronze came in to start on dinner. “Hey, Applebutt. Still no… Heh. Either you’re partying without me, or no word yet, huh?”

I looked back up at him. “Afraid not, Wings.” I shook the bottle. “Want a nip? It’s the good stuff.”

He trotted happily up to me. “Only if you do one with me.”

“Can’t say no to that.”

We traded shots, then made dinner. It became our nightly ritual: work, booze, and food. Bronze said it helped, since looking at how nervous I was, he figured I’d down whatever was left of the bottle when I finally got a response.

And, well, he was damn near right. Day eight, I finally heard back. The mail system was still a bit out of sorts, but eight days to and from Haulihay? No chance. It meant they’d either waited to open it, or they’d done the same thing we had and spent days trying to get their response right.

I felt dirty. What had our relationship come to, hardly ever communicating, and even then, only through tactical, practiced words designed to trap them into doing what I wanted? The rest of the bottle didn’t stand a chance, but luckily, I guess, Bronze took down half of it.

We sat on my couch, already tipsy. I’d crinkled the letter when I’d flopped onto Bronze. “Shit,” I cursed at myself.

“Okay, you had your medicine, your coltfriend who knows what he’s doing is here, and there’s no time like the present.” He hooked a foreleg around my neck and side-hugged me. His breath smelled like alfalfa and rum. “Open it.”

I stared down at it in my hooves. I don’t mind doing most chores, but this felt like having to raise a barn with nothing but spit and driftwood. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Alright, then.” Bronze was quick. He jabbed at the paper and yanked it from my hooves.

“Hey!” I whipped around to him, but I was a little more drunk than I thought and nearly fell off the couch. “Give it back!”

He just ripped it open with his teeth, fell back on the couch, and used his hind hooves to keep me away while I flailed at him. His wings popped up and made a little shield around him, and I couldn’t see what he was doing. “Hm… Oh, my…”

Ice shot through my body. “Bronze, c’mon! That’s mine!” I tried to get at him, but he wrestled me away with his hind legs.

“I believe it’s ours, since I helped you write it.”

"Asshole!" I shouted. I still feel guilty about that.

"Naw, I'm the dick, remember?" He fended me off again. I deflated, and he finally peeked out of his wings. “You sure you wanna read this?”

“Well, I don’t want you to read it first!” I sat back on the couch, folded my forelegs, and scowled at him. “So, yeah. I wanna read it.”

“Good,” he said with a yawn as he sat up. “Because I’m drunk, tired, and I think I was holdin’ it upside down. No fuckin’ clue what it says.” He gave me a little smirk and passed me the letter. “C’mon, that was a little funny.”

I wrinkled my nose at him. “You didn’t need to steal it.”

“But now you want to read it.” He side-hugged me again. “So problem solved, right? Go on, now. Give it a look.”

I opened the letter. Even through the boozy haze, my mind raced back into hyper-analyzing every little detail. The first line read, “Hello, Braeby!” My mother. That shocked me at first, but I’m guessing she and Pa had gone back and forth, and he’d deferred to her when she said he was too worked up to write straight.

I read out loud. “We’re so glad to hear from you, son! And you’re always welcome to your old home. We’d love to have you for a visit. We’re not really sure about the timing, though, since harvest is getting going in full force–”

“There it is,” Bronze cut in.

“Shush,” I responded. I kept reading. “–and we’ll be away to visit Ponyville starting on the twenty-fourth to check on Granny Smith.”

Bronze was smirking and looking out at nothing. “Sudden trip, out of nowhere, with a bullshit reason. Seems pretty standard.” He shrugged. “Now she’ll probably mention Hearth’s Warming.”

My eyes had already glanced at the page. I spoke more quietly. “We hope you’ll be at Hearth’s Warming again. We don’t expect you to make a big deal out of it, but we’d love to have you. I know your friend probably has his own plans, so maybe we can meet him another time.” My forelegs went slack.

Bronze tapped my shoulder. “She doesn’t hate you, Braeburn.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t think she did.”

“Good. Just wanted to make sure you knew that.” He glanced down at the page. “Anything more?”

The paper felt like lead, but I looked through the rest of the pages. “Mostly updates about the farm and the family. Nothing more about the visit.”

“Welp, that’s settled then.” He slapped his thigh and stood up. “We’ll leave on the Friday train after it drops off the tourists.”

My head snapped up. “Wait, what?”

He turned around and cocked an eyebrow, like I was the one speaking nonsense. “We’re going to visit them. You and me. This weekend.”

“What are… What?” I flipped through the pages. “What are you on about?”

Bronze sighed. “They’re leaving in a week and a half and seem to be mysteriously busy until Hearth’s Warming, but they didn’t say anything about this weekend. What she did say is that you’re welcome any time, and this weekend falls into that category. She left an opening. We’re taking it. So, that’s that. I’m gonna head back to the bunk and start some laundry and packing.”

I felt like I’d been thrown out of a speeding train. “Just like that? Show up unannounced? Bronze that’s–”

He… didn’t quite yell. He didn’t have to. Just raise his voice. “Braeburn, you want this fixed or not?” He huffed and walked back towards me. “Applebutt, I’ve seen this a bunch before. Don’t let ‘em off the hook.” He loomed over me, and he opened a foreleg for what turned out to be a hug.

I accepted it. Like a ragdoll, I leaned into his shoulder. “Seems mighty impolite,” I mumbled.

Bronze’s voice softened. “It ain’t impolite, cutie. It’s bein’ an adult.” He pulled back and looked me in the eye. “Because here’s the thing: parents are like any other ponies, and they act childish sometimes, because they basically are just children. They don’t have a damn lick of sense when it comes to ponies like us, because they don’t know. So, we have to be the grown-ups.” He sighed, then pulled me in again and wrapped me in those safe wings of his. He whispered in my ear. “I know it’s scary, but you’ve got me. I promise, Applebutt: I’ll make this right for you. Trust me?”

I sighed. “I trust you.”

And like he said, that was that.

We only had a day and some change to get ready. At Bronze’s suggestion, I gave Grassy Ridge a whole list of chores to do. Bronze half-joked that I should let him help run the orchard, and I let it slide. Just to be safe, I asked Slate to keep an eye out, too. The flurry of activity kept me from worrying too much. Bronze spent the night to keep my mind off things, too.

The Friday sun arrived all too quickly, and with some overnight bags and food, we walked to the train station just as the train arrived. It felt all kinds of wrong to not be greeting the tourists, even though it was only a group of six this time around. But Pridesong knew what to do, and he and Merriweather could handle it. Instead of emphatically welcoming them all to our town – my town – I quietly said goodbye to my home and stepped into the unknown.

We sat in a few of the front seats of the train. See, there weren't that many seats in the passenger car, since room had to be made to haul produce and such. One exciting thing: this same train was hauling some of the early apple harvest to Haulihay, so I got to coordinate the delivery a bit. Ended up saving us some grief and the cost of an escort.

As the train wheels lurched, I wondered if I should dash to the front and pull the brake. Bronze held me tight and kept a wing around me. "You'll be fine, Applebutt. I'm right here."

"Yeah…” I looked out the window. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I’d been on that train. Hearth’s Warming, I suspected. “What will I say, Bronze?"

For once, he didn't try to control every little detail. "If there was ever a time to speak from the heart, Braeburn, this'll be it. You tell 'em everything, right from the get-go. No pussy-footin' around. You're there to tell them the truth, no matter how ugly."

My head thumped against the glass. "I can't just barge in and start a fight, hon."

"Hell, I'm not even sure we'll make it through the front door."

I twisted my neck to shoot him a look. "Really?"

Bronze looked forward at nothing, like he could already see the scene playing out. "The important thing is that you're showing up, Braeburn. If they ain't willing to at least let you in to talk, well, that should tell you everything you need to know."

My heart dropped to my hooves.

He continued, "Fact of the matter is, you need to be ready. Ready to drop them from your life if it comes to it."

A fire raged through my veins out of nowhere. "That's absurd."

He just shrugged. "Sometimes, that's how it is, though. A pony ain't willing to make room for you in their life, so the best thing to do is move on. Hell." He furrowed his brows at me. "You think I should still be trying to patch things up with my uncle? The one who can't get through one conversation without calling me evil?"

I thought about my own extended family, how each of them would react when I told them who I really was. Deep in my heart, I wanted to believe everypony would come around, but that faith stood on shaky ground. "Family is family, Bronze."

"Except when they ain't."

He’d said it without any hesitation. I felt dizzy again.

Bronze hugged me. "Just trying to protect you, Applebutt."

"It ain't like that, Wings." I shook my head. I wasn't sure at all. "They’ll… They’ll understand eventually."

Bronze took in a deep breath and let it out with a growl as he let go of me. "Well, if'n you're fighting this hard to keep 'em, they can't be that bad." He tipped his hat over his eyes and crossed his forelegs. I thought that was the end of it and he was going to catch a nap, but he said, "So tell me, what are they like?"

He was calculating again, like he often did, but I felt something underneath it, too. “They’re wonderful, hon.”

“Seems to me like wonderful parents wouldn't be so distant.” He didn’t move.

“You don’t think they’ll listen, do you?”

Bronze’s head tilted up. I could see his beautiful, golden eyes. I never figured out why they sparkled, even when it seemed like no light could reach them, but it… I’m glad they do, because it helps me remember the good inside him.

He was squinting at the front of the car, a big panel with nothing on it. His forelegs were still crossed in front of his chest, tighter now, and his shoulders had pulled forward and in, like he was trying to ball himself up from the cold. Just above a whisper, he said, “Ponies don’t change, Braeburn. No matter who they are.”

“Wings…” I set a hoof on his leg, and he flinched. “Hon, we all grow. Ponies ain’t that different from trees. It takes cultivation, but… anypony can change.”

He spat out his words to cover a sob. “Fairy tales.” He shook his head, just a little. “Ponies don’t change. That’s why you gotta have a clear head. That’s why you gotta have principles.” His head hung, and those shining eyes disappeared behind his hat again. “You lay out what you’re looking for, and you make an offer. And you hope that they find it agreeable, because if they don’t, well… Ain’t no sense giving ‘em all your strength, trying to pretend it’s fine. It doesn’t get better. Best you can do is tell ‘em the truth and move on.”

I touched the back of his neck. “Bronze…”

He took a deep quick breath. “They don’t change, Braeburn. We become who we are, and maybe we don’t fit in where we thought we did.” Another big breath, and he looked right at me. His eyes were wet. “But it’s okay. Because when you find somepony who makes you happy, who knows the real you, deep down, and still loves you, it–” He shook his head and smiled, and his breathing slowed. “You find your place. All you gotta do is hang on for dear life, because you know it’s meant to last forever.”

Bronze looked so small and delicate and ready to flee, like a bumble bee on a flower. His eyes didn’t have their usual intensity. They were searching. They were reaching out.

And I would be damned if I let him suffer. “Wings, your place is here, letting me hold you.” I turned and reached out my forelegs.

He huffed, and a shaky smile broke across his face. A tear fell from his eye. He leaned in an inch, then looked at me again, like a deer you’re trying to hoof-feed. And when he saw me, still there waiting for him, he heaved my way and hugged me tight. His head rolled against my neck, and it was wet. “I’m… I’m supposed to be the strong one,” he whispered.

“We’re strong for each other,” I whispered. I kissed his cheek. “You’ll have plenty of chances soon, I’m sure.”

He sighed and finally unwound, and I held him there, awkward as it was across our seats like that. As the scenery rolled by, I let him rest.

A few minutes later, he asked, “What were they like? Your parents.”

He needed me. He needed a happy story. And I… Again, I don't want to justify what he did or who he is. He chooses to get violent. And I hate him and love him and feel so sorry for him at the same time. But I didn't want him to suffer. I still don't.

So I gently pet his head. "You ever been to a box cart derby?"

I told Bronze about the time Pa helped me build a box cart and we won second place. I told him about Ma teaching me to cook, the conversation about who Jonah was when I was old enough, our annual holiday trips to Ponyville, when I fell out of our tree house and Pa felt his heart stop…

And slowly, Bronze unfurled like a flower. He pulled up, peeked out from under the brim of his hat, then sat on his seat to hang on every word. I kept asking if he wanted me to stop, but he kept telling me to keep going. And he had questions. And he told me about the times his daddy took him to work or showed him how to use tools, but how something always seemed off once he hit his teenage years. But he loved hearing my glowing reviews of my parents, and even when they had done something that hurt me, I tried to explain what they were thinking at the time. I guess talking about it helped me, too.

As the train began to slow down, Bronze stared off into the distance again. “You’ve got some good parents, Braeburn.”

I looked out the window with him. “Yeah. I’m lucky.”

“And they raised a good son. A treasure.” He shook his head. “They’d have to be damn fools to let you slip away from them. Anypony would.” That look of focus came back, and he set his hoof on mine. “I ain’t gonna let that happen, Braeburn.”

The train rolled to a stop. I brought his hoof to my lips and kissed it. “Let’s not dawdle, then.”

We grabbed our bags and heaved them onto the platform, because we both had some quick work to do. A representative from the local grocer was there to pick up the produce. Bronze started unloading crates while we discussed, and he inspected a few of the apples and the sorghum.

He tried to pull a fast one about how an unacceptable percentage had been bruised in transit – they hadn’t been – but he wasn’t ready for the Braebronze double-team. I had our contract practically memorized from how many times I’d had to go over it, so I could cite whatever numbers he tried to fudge. When he started getting out of line and trying to go over my head, Bronze stepped in and lectured him about honesty and how bad it would be for his business if he didn’t keep his end of the bargain. We went a few rounds like that, but in the end, the inspector signed all the papers, and everypony at home would get paid fairly.

Bronze nudged my flank after we got the last crates loaded onto the cart. “Nice work, Braeburn. You've got a way with numbers that I can only dream of.”

I nudged him back. “Well, you got us over the finish line, mister enforcer. I’m countin’ on those fancy words of yours today.”

Bronze sighed and leaned on the back of a bench. He looked at me funny.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothin’. Let’s get going.”

That train stop had been just outside Salt Lick City on the west side, same direction as Haulahay. The carriage ride felt mighty expensive, and we thought about walking, but Bronze recommended I save my strength for the talk. As a compromise, we got into one of the larger, group carriages. They can be fun, too, since you meet all kinds of interesting ponies on the hour-long ride or so, but on that day, I was grateful nopony seemed to pay us mind.

It means they didn’t say anything when Bronze and I held hooves, either. I like to believe they noticed but thought it was too cute to object to.

My heart raced, of course. What would my parents do? Certainly they wouldn’t slam the door on me, but would the excuses keep coming? Would they invite us in, but then get called away? Hell, would both of them even come see us?

I looked to Bronze, and he had that faraway stare again. His eyebrows would knit from time to time, and I finally asked him, “What are you thinking about?”

He took a deep breath but didn’t stop looking at the horizon. “When I would need to step in.”

That’s all there was. We made the rest of the trip, and walking the three blocks to my parents’ house took no time at all, even if I wished it had.

My parents take pride in keeping their house looking fine. Pa touches up the green paint every year, same shade as the deep green grass, and he’ll replace a whole section of the siding rather than let one slat look out of place. Neither of them worry too much about things like dusting, but Ma keeps the big, bright windows spotless. She says it lets the world in a little easier, and we always had great views of the land. The lawn looked healthy and free of weeds, and it all seemed just like I’d remembered it.

And here I was, ready to change it all up again. I saw Ma through the window to the living room, but she didn’t notice us yet. I seized up.

Bronze leaned into my side. “Keep breathing, Applebutt. If they’re as good as you say, they’ll make room for you.”

The warmth at my side melted the ice in my heart. “Maybe ease off on the ‘Applebutt’ for a while.”

He kissed my cheek. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He picked up his bag and trotted to the door.

“Thank y–” My eyes went wide. “Hey, wait! Wouldn’t dream of saying it, or of easing off?” I grabbed my bag again. “Bronze!”

He cast me a sly look over his shoulder, and he stopped right in front of the porch. I caught up, but he just motioned at the door with his head. “Go on.”

I took a deep breath, stepped up to the door, and reminded myself that I had my Wings to catch me if I fell. I knocked.

Ma was never one to leave anypony waiting. I could hear her hoof-falls as she went straight for the front door, and it opened right quick. “Braeby!” Ma’s got a light-orange coat and a chestnut mane, and I get my streak of blonde from her. She’s a bigger pony, or “a real mare,” as Pa always says, but she was practically bouncing the moment she saw me. “Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry I wasn’t ready to greet you!” She cocked her head. “We didn’t get another letter. Are you…” She trailed off and looked behind me.

I looked back, too. There was Bronze, standing tall but inoffensively. He still had his hat on his head and drew as little attention as possible. He had a pleasant but almost vacant look on his face. When there was too long of a pause, he tipped his hat. “Mrs. Apple, ma’am.”

Ma was stunned when I looked back at her. Her jaw hung open. “Sorry, we didn’t have your room cleaned.” She saw our bags. “Do you want to…” She looked back at Bronze. “We really don’t…” Finally, she called over her shoulder, “Cort? Hey, Cortland? We have guests!”

Guests.

Bronze felt it, too.

My Pa Cortland appeared in the doorway a moment later. He’s a broad stallion, about my height, with a brownish-red coat and a mane full of orange and gold. Every step he takes is solid, because he always said that a stallion should be sure of himself. I tried to keep that in mind. Pa said, “Well, don’t leave ‘em out in the heat, Gal.” He saw me. “Braeburn, son! Good to see you! To what do we–” He saw Bronze, too, and his expression hardened. “Ah, okay. Gonna be like this, is it?”

That cut deep. It felt like a line drawn in the sand, but this one was an impenetrable screen door. I took a deep breath. “Ma, Pa, there’s somepony important I’d like you to meet.”

“And this is how you wanna introduce him?” Pa sneered. “Show up, unannounced, force us to speak on your terms?”

“Cortland!” Ma snapped. She looked at Bronze. “Sorry about him. We like having Braeburn’s friends over, but we were caught a little unaware.”

Ma still had one hoof on the door. Pa stood next to her. We talked through the screen, two sides of a great divide.

I held my ground and didn’t look away. “Pa, I ain’t trying to be confrontational. I’ve met somepony special, and he’s my coltfr–”

Pa cut in. “Pick your words careful, now, son.”

I gritted my teeth. “I’ve been thinking about these words for years now.” I ran a hoof through my mane. “Years, Pa. I still don’t know what to say, but I’m sick of not saying it.”

Pa shook his head. “Well, if you don’t know what to say, then maybe you ain’t ready to say it.”

That struck me right in the gut. “I’ve been ready, but y’all don’t want to listen.”

Ma shook her head. “We’ll always listen to you, sweetie.”

“But you don’t wanna hear it!” I stomped a hoof. “And that’s the problem.”

Ma looked back at Bronze. “We’re sorry you’re involved in our family drama. Braeby’s usually a lot more pleasant than this.”

“Ma, please don’t ignore me like this.”

Her tone firmed up when she looked back at me. “I’m not ignoring you, son, but I find myself having to clean up a mess you’ve made, and we’re trying to do it gracefully.”

I snorted air from my nostrils. “No, you’re sweeping it under the rug, just like you have been for three years!”

My Pa jumped in. “Don’t yell at your mother, son!” He put a foreleg around her withers. “We ain’t the ones at fault here.”

That word “fault” sent my brain spiraling. This was a disaster to them, I told myself. They thought that it was some great personal failing on my part. To them, I’d been the one to bring this unpleasantness into their lives and onto their doorstep. To them, they’d already washed their hooves of it all. They didn’t want me.

And… I believed every one of these terrible lies that had worked their way into my heart. Years of pent-up bitterness bloomed into a hateful flower, nourished by loneliness and fed on the dark sunlight of disappointment.

My eyes stung. “Please, Ma! I just want to talk. Let us come in and sort it all out.”

Ma stopped. She held a hoof to her heart. But she didn’t move.

My jaw quivered. “...Pa? Why?”

Pa’s eyes cast downward. His tone darkened. “It’s… our job to watch out for you and help you see when you’re making mistakes. No matter how hard it is.”

I shook my head. “This ain’t a mistake, Pa!”

“Ain’t it!?” he roared, snapping back at me. “How long before you come with some new stallion and we have to start this all over again?” He knew. The rumors about me had reached home. “Braeburn, I’ve heard what it’s like out there, what you do.” His whole face was redder than I’d ever seen it. “You think I’m proud of it? Proud that my son’s a damn…” He swiped at the air and looked away. “I can’t even say it!”

I beat my chest. “I’ve never gotten to be myself, Pa! And I’m learning, and it’s hard. Damn hard, but it ain’t like I’ve had anypony to guide me!” I pointed a hoof at them. “Hell, I tried to be honest with you, and you treated me like a damn pariah! No word, not talking when you calmed down, nothing! I’ve had to figure out all this shit on my own, so why the hell should I let you dictate my life now?”

Pa grabbed Ma, who was quivering with a mix of embarrassment and rage that I’d never seen on her, and he held her tight. “Because we’re your parents, Braeburn!”

Right then, a wicked, wicked thought crossed my mind. I remembered back to what Bronze had said about making the offer and seeing whether they’d accept it. And if they weren’t going to? Well, then maybe they weren’t really my parents anymore. I hated that thought, but I burned with fury. I wasn’t the one making the decision. They were the ones being unreasonable. They’d had years to come around, and instead, they’d grown more and more estranged with almost no effort to keep me in their lives. And now, with their son on their doorstep, they weren’t ready to open their hearts. In my mind, that all but sealed the deal. If they were going to hurt me, then I could hurt them back. Oh my stars, how I could hurt them with just a few words. I could drive a spike so deep in their hearts that they’d never feel anything again, and I wanted to do it more than I wanted to breathe.

And… I was ready for that to be the end.

The pain of a thousand angry, bitter nights rose up from my hooves. It twisted in my chest and erupted from my mouth. “Well, if you can’t accept me, than I guess I’m no longer your s–”

“If I may,” Bronze boomed. All three of our heads whipped towards him.

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then, he took a hoof to his hat, removed it, and carefully set it on top of his bag all in a fluid motion. He then turned back to us, took a few steps to stand beside me, and said, “Mister and Missus Apple, my name is Bronze Dusk, and I care very, very deeply about your son. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Pa pursed his lips. “Wish I could say the same.”

Ma wanted to snap at him again. I saw it in her eyes. But she didn’t.

Bronze just nodded. He spoke evenly, like he was facing down a raging bull. “That’s fair. But if you allow me to say my piece, and if you do not find it satisfying, then I will leave, and you will not see me again.”

Pa sneered at him. “And what, take my son with you? Forever?”

Bronze shook his head. “I don’t control Braeburn’s actions, Mister Apple. He will make whatever decision he sees fit.” He paused and nodded at them. “However, if you are concerned about what would cause Braeburn to leave and not return, I would like to point out something: we have been standing here for several minutes, and you have not allowed your son into his childhood home. Now, there–”

“Don’t you turn this on us!” Pa yelled. Ma just narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

Bronze remained stoic. I tried to do the same, but I could feel my teeth chattering. I was still ready to let loose and turn my back.

Pa looked Bronze up and down. “That it? That all you wanted to say?”

“No, sir,” Bronze replied. “But I feel I must wait for you to finish. I do not like being interrupted, so I do not interrupt others.”

Pa clamped his mouth shut. He growled, but then he finally nodded at Bronze to continue.

“Thank you. As I said, I’ll say my piece, and then you can determine whether we can come in. I’ll be brief.” He took a half-step back, so that I was a little ahead of him, between him and my parents. I started to turn around, but he held up a hoof to stop me. “I would like you to look at the pony between us. Take a real good look at him.”

Ma and Pa squinted at him at first, but then, I felt all eyes turn onto me. I still felt everything: my rage, my fears, how much I still loved them, and my fading hopes for everything to work out okay. I wanted them to understand the pain I was in, but… Bronze knew best, or so I told myself.

Bronze continued. “Braeburn Apple is a treasure. He’s a diamond out in that inhospitable desert, shining brighter than any pony I have ever seen. He’s diligent in his work, fair and earnest with his neighbors, a leader through and through, a planner, an organizer, a pony that makes even the haughtiest city-slickers feel at home out west.” His voice was soft, just like those fairy dusters had been. “Braeburn is kind to the elderly, gentle with foals, and a friend to everypony in between. He ain’t perfect – nopony is – but he’s as damn close as I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been a hell of a lot of places, pardon the language.”

Ma and Pa were still staring at me. I could see them swell with pride at all the nice things Bronze was saying. They tried to hide it, to stay angry and focused and suspicious, but it was there. And yet, that pride was hidden behind a curtain of doubt and anger and fear.

Bronze kept going. “And it is baffling to me that his family would greet him with anything other than open hearts and tears of joy. I do not mean this to disparage you, but rather to keep you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”

Ma breathed heavily. Her eyes were fixated on me. “It… feels so complicated.”

“Ma’am, all due respect, but it ain’t.” Bronze’s voice shook. Just a little, enough that only I would notice. His head bobbed back and forth, a little faster each time he took a breath. “He’s the best stallion a parent could ask for. He’s the best founder that Appleloosa could ask for. Yet you two, his parents, are having trouble even addressing the wonderful, fundamental fact that he is learning to love somepony else in a new way. And I know why that is.”

Pa pursed his lips. “You don’t know about our family.”

Bronze swallowed hard. “Sir, I do, because I’ve seen this story play out over and over and over again, and it almost always ends in heartbreak.” I cast a glance at Bronze. He was blinking more. There was something in his voice, an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “It’s because you feel like you’ve already lost him. Finding out that he’s gay was such a blow to what you thought you knew about him, it felt like–” His breath caught in his throat, and with the next thing he said, it all made sense. His elocution changed to be even more precise, and his tone dropped, and he stared out into the distance. “It felt like you were watching him die in front of you.”

I finally realized what that emotion was. He was quoting someone he had once loved.

Tears formed in Ma’s eyes. “We thought… We had so many dreams.”

Bronze took a shaky breath. “And I am begging you to realize that your beloved son ain’t gone. He’s right in front of you, and he loves you, and even despite the pain he’s felt these last three years, he has nothing but positive things to say about you, even when I don’t think you deserve it.”

Pa stood there. His lip quivered.

Bronzed stepped forward to be next to me again. “I’m not asking you to accept me. Hell, I’m not asking you to accept that he’s gay yet.” He shook his head. “Frankly, I don’t think you’re ready for that conversation. But I want you to realize how perilously close you are to shutting a door that will not open again.” He cleared his throat to cover another sob. “And I will not abide by anypony hurting him in that way, no matter who they are. I do not want Braeburn to feel the pain of losing his family. He is a light that I will not see snuffed.” He tapped his hoof on the ground for emphasis. “He deserves love, and he deserves kindness and so much more. Do whatever else you need to.” Bronze waved a hoof. “Pretend I’m just his friend, or tell me to go sleep in a ditch. Whatever it takes, but please. Please.” He took another step forward and bowed his head. A tear dropped from his face to the porch. “Let him through that door.”

My whole world hung in the balance in that moment. It felt like a delicate, beautiful ornament on a hair-thin thread, ready to fall to the earth and shatter completely.

I looked at my parents. My father stood there, still trying to be the broad, sure-hoofed pony that he always wanted to be. But he was scared. He looked small. His eyes were wet. And yet, he didn’t move.

Ma held a hoof to her face. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and her tail, usually so bouncy and vibrant, drooped behind her. She sobbed, “I don’t want to lose you, Braeby.”

The hatred in my body drowned in an ocean of sorrow. Bronze was right: we were standing at a cliff’s edge. My throat was tight. My knees felt weak. I choked out a whispered, “I don’t want to be lost.”

But none of us moved.

I could feel the whole world slipping. We needed a lifeline, but none of us knew how to use a rope.

None of us except Bronze. “Please,” he said, his head lowered. “For him.”

It was like a dam burst, and my Pa threw open the screen door. “Son,” he sobbed. He rushed out, Ma right behind him, and they grabbed me and hugged me tight.

“Pa…” I buried my face between them. “Ma…” I hugged them back, and hard as I could.

The whole lot of us cried, and Ma stroked my mane. “Sh-sh-sh, it’ll be okay.”

I felt my parents again. Not just touching them. I felt them. Felt connected to them, like they loved me again, like they could actually see me for me. It wasn’t all fixed, no, but was a step. We felt together again. It was the first time I’d felt that way in almost three years, and the overwhelming gratefulness I have for Bronze for that kindness has yet to fade.

My ear pricked when I heard him try to quietly step away. I glanced his way, and he had a sad, satisfied smile on as he turned back towards the road.

Ma wouldn’t allow that. “Bronze, get your ass in our house.”

Pa chuckled. “Language, Gal.”

Ma sniffed. “He ain’t just some guest, Cort. He’s…” She looked in my eyes again. It reminded me when she’d tucked me in for bed when I was a foal. “He’s special to Braeburn, and Braeburn is too important for us to ignore that.” She looked up at Bronze. “So welcome in. You can set your bags by the fireplace, and we’ll set you up right.”

Bronze, his head still hung meekly, smiled and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

And the four of us walked in together.

Comments

[Madmadmad123]

Great chapter loving it

[Vivid Syntax]

11490997
Thank you!

[InlustriusGhost]

When I first started reading, I was dreading whatever was going to happen with Cortland and Gala, but as I continued, I started to gain sympathy for Bronze, even though I know that he was ultimately not the right fit for Braeburn. Actually, I think Braeburn really needed Bronze for this moment. Assertive, direct, but still a gentlecolt. He may have just saved Brae's relationship with his parents.

[Vivid Syntax]

11491207
Life is rarely black-and-white.

[Bruno]

I skimmed this one, admittedly. I can’t make myself read too much of Bronze. I have to say, as much as I vehemently hate him, he’s done one objectively good thing, which was stabilize Brae’s relationship with his parents.

[Rakkit_Brony]

This is so good. Im so happy you decided to come back to this. :)

[jxj]

I’m finally all caught up. Well done with Bronze, I’m really liking his character. And thanks for not ending this in a cliffhanger lol. I was absolutely expecting that.

[Vivid Syntax]

11511282
I'm very happy to be back. Thank you for coming back to read more. New chapter this weekend!

[Vivid Syntax]

11511413
Yeah, I've had a cliffhanger or two in my time. Thank for coming back to read more! New chapter coming in the next few days!

[Wireframe]

This chapter has left me feeling conflicted. The start of this chapter was quite uncomfortable. Bronze's pushing of Braeburn set off all sorts of alarm bells. The tension and concerns and how each of them dealt with it and supported each other, all lead up to a rather powerful confrontation in the end. One I couldn't help but appreciate Bronze for, strange as that may feel. For all his flaws, and potential loss of faith in ponies' ability to change and grow, he definitely knows what to say or how to present himself. In this situation, despite the troubling way of setting it up, he seemed to prove that he could also be a positive influence in Brae's life.

[Vivid Syntax]

11519268
I'm glad you're finding depth in his character. The world is a complex place. And I'm happy you're still reading about these wonderful ponies.

[rillegas08]

I never figured out why they sparkled, even when it seemed like no light could reach them,

I just got thrust back into the last time I read about Bronze's eyes sparkling with no apparent light source and the impending doom that happened moments later. Thanks for that.

[Vivid Syntax]

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You're welcome!