• Published 19th Mar 2020
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Tracy needed somewhere to stay, how was he supposed to know that it was in another universe? Now he'll somehow have to hold down a job on Earth while living as a pony in Equestria. It's either that, or say goodbye to being human.

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Chapter 57

Returning to Apex was no easy task for Tracy. Of course it wasn't that any of the actual engineering had gotten harder—two weeks wasn't enough to forget everything he knew, even if he hadn't been working for most of it. But he had been, so he hadn't even come unstuck from the projects everyone was working on.

Part of the challenge came from the sudden return of his humanity. Tracy wouldn't admit to himself that anything was wrong while he drove to work, feeling a strange lack of coordination in his hands. There was always another explanation—he was just tired, or maybe it was the Everwake slowly wearing him down. But if that was the explanation, that probably wasn't good either. It wasn't like he could stop again until next weekend. And every day I wait, the worse it gets. No wonder Discord wanted me to take this stuff.

It wasn't like his hands had stopped working or anything. With his leg mended, he felt only a little weakness from that arm, as the recovery continued. His fingers weren't numb or anything, they just felt strange. He couldn't quite decide if he missed having wings on his back, or if all these clothes were a return to the way things were supposed to be.

Worse than all that were the reflections. It was almost every reflective surface now. Even leaning back from his computer screen sometimes made his hair change blue, or let him catch the reflection of a mane out of the corner of his eyes.

No one around him reacted. When he walked past the security booth, the guard didn't so much as blink when his badge scanned correctly. He walked upstairs to his department without provoking so much as a curious glance.

Tracy's desk had changed a little, but he expected that. He slipped the new work laptop into the dock, then his old screens all came to life. There weren't even rude notes on his desk.

But that didn't mean he'd escaped entirely unscathed. After the morning standup meeting, half the other engineers found excuses to visit his desk. They asked only polite questions, and never even mentioned Steven. But when they thought he wasn't looking, Tracy caught them staring. What were they looking for?

Nobody asked if he wanted to be part of the day's catering for lunch. When he did pass by the open meeting room filled with plates and boxes of food, conversation hushed.

He made an excuse to visit Janet before close, slipping into her office and quietly clicking the door shut. To his annoyance, he caught Lori lurking near the glass before he even turned around. I'll have to keep quiet if I don't want this conversation spreading too.

"What did you tell everyone?" he asked, as politely as he could. "It seems like half the office is staring at me."

Janet looked up from her keyboard, shrugging absently. "Not the truth, you bet your ass on it. But think about what happened for a sec, Tracy. We only had two interns, and one of them lost his mind after visiting you for lunch. I told everybody there was nothing to see. Most of them will buy it, if you give them enough time.

She leaned forward, grinning weakly at him. "You have to admit, this is way more interesting than usual office gossip. New kid gets hurt, first person to visit goes nuts. Boss goes to confirm that nothing was happening."

"What do they think happened?" Tracy didn't really expect an answer, but he had to ask.

"Drugs, pretty sure," she answered. "The popular theory was that you're running some kinda grow-op in that apartment. Instead of being sensible, Steven partook, went on the worst trip of his life during work hours. They don't see his test results, they don't know he wasn't on anything. They didn't go there to know that you aren't."

"It would have to be worse than a grow-op if Steven was hallucinating at work," he muttered, annoyed. "Marijuana doesn't do that."

Janet raised a placating hand. "That thing you just said—try to avoid talking like that with the others. Don't be informed. Be ignorant. Make yourself boring. My 'investigation' got HR off your back, but you aren't out of the woods yet."

She gestured vaguely towards the glass with a stapler, and he heard movement in the space beyond. Their audience scattering, though Tracy didn't see how many people were actually watching. Maybe just Lori. "You didn't ask for this, I get it. I want to keep you. But if you want to stick around, then you'll have to work with me."

He nodded. "What should I do?"

"Be boring. Be so unimaginably boring that I can give everyone a few tough assignments, and we can just wait for the next drama to come around. Know what I mean?"

He nodded weakly. "My lease ends at the end of January. Once that happens, there won't be anything to worry about."

She nodded. "I'm going to give you the shit work for the next few weeks, make a show of punishing you for taking off during the Emmerson project. Just want to make sure you realize you haven't done anything wrong. This is for them, not for you. The work you submitted from home is some of the best I've seen from you."

"I was inspired," he said lamely. Fortunately, Janet didn't ask why.

Tracy did everything he could to implement Janet's suggestions. The first few days seemed hopeless, but by the end of his first week back at work, it became increasingly clear that he just wasn’t going to do anything interesting. More than once he found evidence that someone had been through his things—probably searching for the drugs he supposedly grew. Tracy gritted his teeth, complaining about the “accident” to HR, and moved on despite the hostility of his work environment.

But then he brought Rose to Friday’s work party. That alone served as stronger proof of his mediocrity than anything else he could say or do.

Janet's "help" probably made a difference too, though it meant a few weeks of fairly miserable work. Instead of designing anything new, Janet tasked him with updating the department's records, bringing all their resource models up to company spec, updating repositories...

But as mind-numbing as his days at work became, that also meant visiting everyone in the department, issuing patches and updates and having tons of entirely uninteresting conversations.

By the end of his second week back, someone had the balls to ask for the story themselves. Eric, one of the senior draftsmen. "I don't know what scared that kid..." he muttered, settling down the drafting tablet across from them. "You didn't slip him something?"

"No," Tracy said flatly. "I smoked weed once in high school, and I wasn't that impressed with it. I tried calming Steven down, but he wouldn't have it. I guess he just... thought he saw something."

Eric nodded knowingly. "Sometimes people break down. I'd ask if it were cultural, but HR would probably send me another stern email. Whatever it was, couldn't be that bad. Janet said there wasn't anything to be worried about. Hell of a way to spend your first year at Apex."

It wasn't like convincing one of his coworkers was enough to get the others to relax. But it was a start, and with it he could finally start focusing on what really mattered: his time with Rose.

And all it cost were two little vials of potion each day, taken when Rose wasn't watching. She has to know what I'm doing. We get to spend so much time together, and I never miss work. How else does she think I'm living on so little sleep?

After two weeks back at work, Tracy sat down once to run the numbers on exactly how much sleep he needed. Over two days? How did I let it get that bad? Using enough of the Everwake that he now got the potion delivered in a large flask and poured it himself probably should've warned him something was up.

It was easy to find something else to think about, particularly when he was surrounded by so much beauty. Winter in Ponyville was everything he'd always loved about the season back home, though the temperature wasn't nearly as harsh, and the people were far friendlier despite not having cars or snowmobiles to get around.

He followed Rose outside on a morning walk one Saturday, into a town that seemed to be hibernating for the season. If anything, Ponyville took on the cast of those garish paintings that were always up for sale in thrift stores, with a thin line of smoke rising from every home and light glowing from most windows.

"What do ponies do when it gets so cold?" he asked, over a cup of hot chocolate by their favorite cafe. "The shops are still open, but aren't most of the ponies here farmers?" Roseluck sat beside him rather than across from him, but that suited him fine. If he ran out, he could always steal her drink.

"A few years ago we were," she said. "Ponyville used to pride itself on being an earth pony town. There's still some of that heritage left. Like when we wrap up winter in—" She fell abruptly silent, looking away from him. "I guess you won’t be here for that. A long, long time ago, before I was born even—the whole town used to shut down in the winter. I think it would've been good—you rest the soil between crops, and ponies need rest too."

I wonder what I would do if I lived here. Not resell human technology and set up PoS terminals in shops, that was for sure. He'd need the Worldgate open to bring all that stuff in. But then he realized what he was thinking, and his ears flattened abruptly. He wasn't going to be here in a few months—it was pointless to answer that question.

And even if I could keep living at the apartment, I wouldn't be able to go between two worlds anymore. Sooner or later I'm going to start bleeding magic on the other side.

"What?" Rose nudged him with a hoof, expression souring. "Was it something I said?"

"No, no." He patted her shoulder, wedging his wing better into the space between them. At least he'd only have to be cold on one side. "I was just lost in thought, that's all."

Rose wore little, even in the cold. But Tracy's winter clothes taken from home had a new life in Ponyville. With so much skin on his wings exposed to the icy winter chill, he could begin to understand why the thestrals either migrated south or just lived there year-round.

"About?"

He probably would've dismissed the question with something stupid. But every time he thought about lying to her, he thought about the vials hidden in his bedroom, and the additional guilt became overpowering. "How useless I'd be if I lived here," he said. "The skills I spent my whole life learning—most of them are useless here. I'd be starting from scratch."

Her eyes widened. But if she thought the statement was strange, she didn't say so. "Tell that to the flower stand," she said. "We'd be shuttered by now if it weren’t for you. Don't deny it—you've seen the books."

She knew him too well. "I'm happy to help. But I can't make a career out of that. I can't go around saving ponies' businesses—you saved yourself. I just helped put together the information you needed."

"Equestria has room for everypony," she said, grinning broadly at him. "Besides, you'd be living with me. I'm sure we could come up with something useful for you to do, together. Most ponies use their special talent to make bits. You can't really think yours is getting electrocuted, can you?"

"No, I guess it isn't." It's probably more general than that. Try 'making a total mess of things.'

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