Pandemic: Starting Over

by Halira

Chapter 23: Trust

As I was making my way to my room, and was almost at the door when my ears twitched at the sound of sobbing. I turned my head, zeroing in on the source of the sound, realizing it was coming from Lántiān's room, and it wasn't the sound of her daughter. Frowning, I wondered if I should do something or say something. I stood there, debating whether I should leave it be, with my ears twitching with each sob.

God damn it.

I turned away from my door and walked over to hers, hesitating in front of it. This was stupid. Why was I doing this? I knew why she had to be crying, and I couldn't make anything any better. Nothing could make it better. That proud filly wouldn't appreciate me intruding on the moment that she allowed herself to let some of the grief out. It was something she kept private, out of sight, and it was sacred. She should be left alone, with her dignity.

Tonya wouldn't have left her alone. Tonya would have done what she could to make it better.

God damn it.

I rapped gently on her door. "Lántiān, may I enter?"

The sounds of her rapidly trying to compose herself followed, and it took her several seconds to manage a reply. "Yes, ma'am. It is not my place to deny you entry."

How that filly managed to be such a snot yet so respectful at the same time was a wonder. I pushed down in the handle of the door and let myself in.

The room was simple. Looking around it, there was no feeling of ownership that a room in a home had. Not much was her; a queen-sized bed, decked in a dark brown blanket, with white sheets; some framed watercolor paintings of flowers in a vase; a plain dark writing desk, beige curtains, and the walls were done in a dark green that somehow bordered in being brown. It felt like a hotel room, something that existed by design to be unobjectionable rather than homey. It was a place for people just passing through, who would leave no trace of themselves when they were gone.

Qīng Yǔ was curled up asleep on a pillow. Lántiān was sitting on the bed, and the covers showed no signs that she'd made any attempt to tuck herself in as of yet. Her face was a mess, and even in the dim light of the single lamp she had on, I could see that her eyes were reddened, tears had soaked her fur, and there was still a small amount of snot that wished to escape her nose. Still, she looked at me with that stonelike expression that tried to hide her emotions.

“It’s late, and I expected you to be asleep already,” I started, unsure of how I should start this conversation. She was staring at me, waiting for me to speak some more. I didn't know a way of dancing around the subject, so I might as well be blunt. "I heard you crying, did you need to talk?"

"I do not wish to talk, ma'am," she replied sharply.

Little snot. "I don't recall asking what you wished, I asked if you needed to talk. I may coddle your brothers, since they are young foals, but you, filly, are essentially a young mare who should know the difference between wants and needs."

This made her fluff her wings slightly, at least for just a moment, but they quickly deflated, and she cast her eyes down. "I am crying about wishes, so there is no need to concern yourself, ma'am. I will focus more on what is real."

Starlight told me to show this filly some empathy. How was I supposed to do that when she wouldn't talk? I was trying; God damn it!

I walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down before her, in a position where she would look down on me. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for what I was about to try, and dreading it. "If you do not wish to discuss what is on your mind, perhaps I can share some of mine. I’ve asked a lot of you and I should be more open with you."

She sat more erect, more proud, than before. That was one thing I'd come to understand in her. She valued being trusted and being given responsibility. I suppose the two could be seen as one and the same, to many. I had no such illusions that the two always went together. I'd given many responsibilities to others in my time, and I trusted hardly a one of them. The government'd also given me a great deal of responsibility over the years, and if they had trusted me, they were greater fools than I was. No, giving someone trust and giving someone responsibility was not the same. In fact, sometimes it was best to give responsibility to those you trusted least; so that when they failed you, you had a perfectly reasonable explanation of why you disposed of them.

I recoiled at my thoughts. I was a disgusting monster. As much as I tried not to be, it was my nature. Not to mention a liar, telling her things I didn't even fully believe.

I looked her in the eyes. "I'm thinking about the difference between trust and responsibility, and I think that your mother gave you a great deal of responsibility but never really trusted you."

The filly flinched as if I slapped her, and I knew that I'd struck a chord. I continued, "I have so far been doing the same. I have been dumping responsibility upon responsibility upon you, but I have not trusted you."

She ruefully looked at me. "And what have I done not to be trusted, ma'am? Is it because I struck you?"

I shook my head. "You've done nothing wrong. I haven’t given you a chance to earn it."

She breathed heavily. "I returned from my flight within the time you told me. I have done every chore you asked of me, ma'am."

I nodded in agreement. "And you've proven you can be responsible, for yourself and others. That does not mean you have my trust."

She was all but growling now. "Then what would, ma'am?"

That was an excellent question. Where should trust begin?

I stood back up and motioned with my head. "Follow me. I’d like to show you something private, something I do not wish you to discuss with others."

We walked over to my room. I clicked the light on, and I went to my personal effects. It took me longer than usual to fish out what I was looking for since I was still wary of using my horn, but I eventually pulled out a photo album and motioned for her to join me.

"I've been married twice," I explained. "My first marriage was to a man who became a unicorn as well. Our marriage ended soon after ETS. I think it was ETS that made us both realize how unhappy and unfit for each other we were. There was some additional drama involved that I won't get into now. Before I came here, he gave me this. I don't know if it was a gesture of kindness or spite. He might not know either, but it is very sentimental to me."

I opened the album, and there she was, staring back at me from the photos, Tonya.

"You asked me about my dead spouse, and I rebuffed you," I said quietly. "Here she is, my Tonya. My ex-husband is quite the photographer. I was surprised he had taken all these, each at various family gatherings. Please, flip through it. See my life with her."

She did as instructed, examining each photo closely. I saw her eyes linger on the images that also included my grandfoals, which I suppose could be expected.

I tried not to look at the pictures too closely as she turned through the album. "Trust, young mare, is letting someone into your heart, letting them see your secret thoughts and feelings, your worries, and your hopes. Trust is a very sacred thing. I trusted Tonya completely. I loved and trusted her. They often go together, and they did with her."

She didn't look up from the album, but seemed to stop looking at the photos. "And you say my mother did not trust me, ma'am?"

"Would you have put so much loyalty in your government if she had been open with you about what was going on in her head?" I asked. "I can't know for sure, unless you tell me, but I am guessing that you were rather blindsided by her saying you were all going to be running for your lives. She gave you responsibility for your brothers, but she never gave you the trust to tell you what was going on until the last minute when she had no choice, didn't she?"

She gulped, saying nothing, and in doing so, gave her answer.

"Your mother didn't trust you, but she did love you. It is important to distinguish between trust and love. Love can exist even when there is no trust at all. People like to play the fantasy that love requires trust; it does not. My daughter loves me dearly, I know she does, but she doesn't trust me at all."

"Family should- should trust one another, ma'am," she said, choking back tears.

"Should is another word for hopeful wishes," I replied. "Trust has another factor. That trust that they won't ever betray you, that they always have your best interest at heart, and would never do anything to hurt you. Trust is a dangerous thing to give. Tonya trusted me, and I got her killed."

The filly lifted her eyes to me. "How?"

I noted that she didn't ma'am me that time, and I stared off at the wall. "I was concerned about her safety. I was so concerned with rioters and rogue crystal ponies that I failed to think about or appreciate the greater danger that I'd been harboring. It was my fault that he was there. I thought I was clever, taking someone that belonged in the electric chair and extracting use from him. I always thought I was so clever. The sad part was that I could outsmart one person after the next, despite being such a fool. Maybe, that means everyone is just a fool, waiting to be taken for a ride. I thought I knew best that I was sending her to safety but I sent my wife to her death."

I started to cry. "I sometimes think about everything I could have done differently that day. I'll spend entire days obsessing about what else I should have done. The truth is she died in each and every possibility I can see. Her death was determined before that day happened, all because of the decisions I made before that day. She was the one who brought about the Cataclysm, and the Cataclysm was the best-case scenario to stop the disaster I had created. Isn't that sad?"

At this point, I couldn't hold it back any longer; I broke down sobbing. "She trusted me to keep her safe, but I killed her. My decisions, my cleverness, all brought those things to us. She should never have trusted me."

“You…” Lántiān looked at me, quizzically. "You said that the Cataclysm was the best-case scenario, ma'am?"

I sniffled, wiping my nose with my leg, and nodded. "Yes, it would have been a million times worse if that monster had had his way."

"And she was the one that stopped him, ma'am?"

I nodded again. "Yes, she sacrificed herself to save us all. She was such a good mare, much better than me."

The filly frowned. "And you were the one that put her there, ma'am?"

I snapped my eyes to her and narrowed them. "I didn't do it so she could save us. I did it thinking that was how to keep her safe. She's dead because of me."

She didn't look away. "So, you say, ma'am. Yet, you also say this Cataclysm was the best-case scenario. Would she have lived if you had not sent her there?"

"I- I don't know," I stammered. "I have no way of knowing that."

"But she may have still died," Lántiān said with emphasis. "The way you speak, ma'am, it seems almost inevitable. Perhaps you would have died as well?"

I fiercely glared back. "So? What does it matter?"

"You wanted her safe, and she lost nothing by trusting you if she would have died either way," the filly replied. "But her trust did give her the chance to save you, ma'am." She then hung her head. "My mother never gave me a chance to save her. You're right; she didn't trust me."

"That wasn't what I was-"

"But, my lack of trust in her may have killed her," Lántiān said in a whisper.

"That isn't what I-"

She held up a wing, and her eyes started to water again. "I hesitated! She needed us to be moving, and I kept hesitating, kept resisting, kept questioning. We were moving, but we weren't moving as quickly as we should have, and it is my fault. My brothers listened; they did not question her; they trusted her. I delayed us so much that we couldn't escape as she planned. Mama was forced to change the plan, forced to sacrifice herself."

She wiped her face and looked at me again with anguish in her eyes. "I think it was stupid, her plan to run to the United States. If she was so intent to run, we could have run to Russia, but she had set her heart here, all because her chosen successor was here. It was not my place to question her at that time. It was my place to listen and trust. I don't know if she might have gotten away too if I had not hesitated, but I know that I took away all hope of it."

I tried to lay a hoof on her shoulder, but she jerked away from me. Instead, I just tried to calm her with my words. "As you said, you don't know-"

She shook her head. "They were almost upon us, and she looked back, and then looked at us. She was crying as she said to us, you keep running. Don't stop until you reach the ones who will help you escape. Then she turned and went back. My brothers took off, and I had no choice but to follow. I looked back one last time, and I saw it happen. I saw her pull something from her saddlebag, and then she was engulfed in flames. My brothers did not see it, and I couldn't cry out, or they would stop. I could only keep running, knowing what she had just done."

I gasped. Good Lord, she had seen it happen?

"Now she says that you will keep us safe, ma'am. I don't know if I agree with her, but I will trust her this time." The filly stood and walked back towards her room, pausing only briefly to look back at me from my doorway. "Have a good night, ma'am. Thank you for sharing these pictures with me and for giving me much to think about."

She returned to her room, shutting her door behind her. I sat looking at my album and the images of Tonya. "Did I make things better or worse?"

It was time to sleep and to speak once again to the betrayed dead.

Comments

[badninja]

Ouch. I wonder if Lántiān knows that the only safe place for her would have been the USA? Russia and China do have a long friendship, just about as long as they absolutely detest one another. I hope Sunset Blessing does a little research into both countries histories with each other as it can give her the ability to make an educated guess.