• Published 8th Sep 2012
  • 4,529 Views, 421 Comments

How to Raise a Filly - CharmingChaos



Sequel to A Tale of Two Mares. Go read that.

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And Then There were Four

Fillies and gentlecolts, the chapter you've all been waiting for. It's finally (crappily, I might add) done. So, enjoy this garbage, because it's just for you.
Right. Also, I'm too lazy and tired (It's 1AM, gimme a break!) to proofread, so...
Typos ahoy!

Octavia was bored. She sat on the porch swing in the backyard, a romance novel (bought at the bit store in a fit of extreme boredom) open and forgotten in her lap.

On days like this one, when Tambourine was in school until four (counting the bus ride home) and Vinyl had day jobs, or was already getting set up for a show, Octavia was often lonely, not to mention bored out of her mind due to her lack of strength and coordination. She mentally cursed the filly inside of her for making her so helpless, finally understanding a bit of how Vinyl must have felt when her magic acted up during her pregnancy with Tambourine.

She glanced at the clock. Two more hours of waiting for anypony to come. Maybe she should call somepony? A chat would be nice, but who would she call? At this hour, most of her friends would either be working or at practice, depending on whether or not they were musicians. A gentle breeze fluttered the pages of her book, and the grey mare turned her eyes back to it with a sigh.

Her eyebrows rose sarcastically as she turned the page. A particularly skill-lessly written saucy scene was drawled out, filled with unnecessary details and leaving out all of what Vinyl Scratch would have so crudely described as the 'good parts.'

She let the book slide off her lap onto the bench, not even bothering to use her hooves to try and prevent it. Really, even Vinyl Scratch could write a better romance then that, she chided the book, eying it in disgust. Its dark blue cover stared innocently back at her. Hay, even I could. It wouldn't be as... explicit as if Vin' did it, but... that isn't exactly necessary for a good story. I've got to find something else to do. Come on Octy, up and at 'em.

She lurched to her hooves, stopping to catch her breath as soon as she was up. But the swinging bench hit her behind the knees, causing the poor mare's legs to buckle, dumping her unceremoniously on the ground with a faint "oof."

Octavia picked herself up, groaning as the foal stirred inside her. Throwing the bench an angry look, she picked up her novel in her mouth and hurried inside - that is, she waddled in as quickly as she could, what with the pain in her stomach all of the sudden.

Octavia dropped the book on the sofa with a gasp, her pupils suddenly shrinking to the size of pin-heads. Another stab of pain, and she nodded quickly, eyes widening again.

The phone rang once, twice, three times, before a brisk, impatient sounding voice with a slight accent answered. "This is the Canterlot Cabana of San Franciscolt, what might we do to assist you?"

"Hello, is DJ Pon3 there right now?" Octavia asked breathlessly. She knew the answer - the heavy bass beating in the background told her that much.

"I'm afraid she's busy, love. I'm just the barmare, but I'll bring her a message with 'er next drink if ye like," the voice apologized sweetly.

"Ooh, I don't know... if that's such a good idea." Octavia fought back a moan as she left the house, her phone wedged between her ear and her shoulder. "Y'see, I'm her wife, and it... Oh, dear... it seems... I'm going into labour. Now, if you don't mind, tell her to teleport to the hospital, now!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, love. Didn't realize how urgent it was. She'll be there." There was a click, and the call ended, leaving Octavia to struggle on, on her own.

Fortunately, the St Luna's Hospital was only a short walk away, on a good day, and a colt drawing an empty carriage took pity on poor Octavia, rushing her to the door in a mere fraction of the time it would have taken for her to walk.

Octavia was, naturally, immediately shepherded off to the maternity ward, where a light yellow earth pony nurse sat beside her and held her hoof, while another mare - Octavia figured she was probably a doctor - bustled in and out and performed several random feats which were apparently to help Octavia, though she couldn't see how, because everything still hurt.

The contractions were getting closer together, and Octavia barely managed to keep from screaming as she felt her insides being slowly ripped apart. Her hoof, still clutching the nurse's was slick with sweat.

oOo

There was a pop in the middle of the waiting room, and the blonde receptionist looked up from her magazine in time to see a nervous - well, rather mad-looking - white filly with a disheveled blue mane standing in a little fizz of pale blue smoke, panting. She trotted over.

"Hi, I'm Vinyl Scratch, DJ Pon3, whatever, my wife got here a few minutes ago, she's about to have a foal. She's grey, charcoal mane, straight - er her mane, not her se- yeah. Anyways, name's Octavia. I need to get to her, fast, because I promised last month when she got pregnant that I'd be there. So, for the love of Celestia, where is she?"

The receptionist blinked stupidly. "I'm sorry, we'll have to get permission from the doctors. Nopony is allowed in the maternity ward without an escort from the wing which they wish to visit."

"Now listen, Missy. Let me explain this again. My wife is about to have her first foal. Now would you mind letting me go in? I wouldn't want anypony to get hurt." Vinyl spoke in a low voice, slowly as if explaining something to a very small foal.

"Jeez, lady. No need to get all huffy. I'll get a doctor to come and escort you in a minute. Your wife came in here a few minutes ago, like you said. She's got at least a couple of hours before the foal is born."

"Just tell me!" Vinyl growled through her teeth, looking ready to bite the receptionist's head off in her impatience, as if that would do any good.

"Alright, alright. She's in room 437, on the top floor. Tell the doctors it's not my fault you're there."

But Vinyl was already gone. She disappeared with a whoosh as the air rushed to fill the space she had left behind, and in a flash she was standing outside the door of 437.

Octavia's eyes were squeezed shut, as if to block out the pain, but her ears were perked up, listening to the nurses and the doctor, and a very familiar, husky voice that came crashing through the door from the lips of the very mare she wanted to see the most.

"Vin... you're here..." she panted, taking the hoof her wife extended in exchange for the nurse's.

"Course I am, Octy. Did you honestly think I'd miss this?" Vinyl flinched as Octavia squeezed her hoof into jelly, but she clenched her jaw and smiled warmly through it, knowing from experience that Octavia was in much more pain then her mistreated hoof.

"I... guess not." Octavia agreed before letting out a piercing shriek. "OhmybuckingCelestiaVinylithurts!"

Vinyl Scratch ran o hoof through Octavia's damp mane, pushing it from her face tenderly. "I know, Octy. I've been through it before. I promise it's worth it, you can do it, you'll make it, I promise, everything will be okay."

She went on mumbling little comforting nothings, stroking her hoof, her forehead, her flushed cheeks, anything to help Octavia feel safe, until a nurse tapped her on the shoulder.

"Um, excuse me, and you're doing an excellent job - "

"Oh, really?" Vinyl raised an eyebrow. "I hadn't noticed."

"As I was saying, we don't usually let ponies come into the birthing rooms, for sanitary reasons. Who are you, so we can at least know you're related, seeing as I doubt you'll be willing to leave."

"Damn right, I'm not willing to leave." Vinyl agreed righteously. "I'm her bucking wife, and the one who got her pregnant. I think I deserve to stay here."

Octavia gave a weak nod of agreement, fitted in between her constant moaning.

"Well, I suppose you can stay. Just, wear this mask, please." the nurse thrust a paper mask at Vinyl, who shook her head.

"Nonononono, I am not wearing that thing. No can do, es imposible, et cetera. I don't wear things like that, it makes me look lame."

"Can you... at least... take off your glasses?" Octavia asked softly. "Want to see... your eyes."

The shades were discarded unceremoniously onto the floor, and Vinyl smiled down at her. "Better?"

A short nod, and Octavia's face crumpled, crushed by the pain. It broke Vinyl's heart to see her like this, but she held her hoof still, feeling the muscles in her foreleg clench and unclench as she fought to keep control over her body.

Tears dripped from her squeezed shut eyes, and Vinyl rubbed them away, one by one, before leaning down to plant a soft kiss on Octavia's cheek, tasting the salty mixture of tears and sweat on her lips as she let them brush against her wife's damp grey fur.

"You can do this, Octy. Shouldn't be too long now, then it'll all be over. It's gonna be fine, it's gonna be fine," Vinyl began her little chant of good wishes again, watching as the doctor appeared again, this time with a brown stallion by her side.

Assuming he was a specialist or something, Vinyl left Octavia's side for a moment to question him. "Is she gonna be alright, Dr... Who are you, anyways? Your nametag must've fallen off or something."

"Just the Doctor," the stallion answered, glancing at Octavia again. "And yes, she'll be fine. I think I saw her, what, next Tuesday, perhaps? She was just, fine, you've no need to worry. I've got to go, so much to do, so little time, and all that."

"Wha - how do you mean, Doc?" Vinyl asked, puzzled.

"Just trust me. I'm a doctor. Now, goodbye, see you ponies later. Derpy!" The stallion called as he swept out, leaving a rather confused Vinyl Scratch behind. The nurse patted her shoulder. "He's trustworthy. One of the best, even though he isn't usually this kind of doctor. If he say your wife will be alright, she will."

Vinyl nodded, her head snapping around to look at Octavia as the grey mare let out another scream of agony.

Holding her hoof again, Vinyl began her singsong chant again.

"I can't take any more of this, Vin'. I wish I was dead, I think I am dead, or at least dying, Vinyl make it stop, make it stop!" Octavia half whispered, half shrieked at Vinyl as she lay, tears still streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry, Octy. I would if I could. It should be close now." It pained Vinyl to see Octavia so unlike her usual cool, confident facade. Sure, that facade crumbled often enough for Vinyl to be familiar with Octavia inside and out - that had been what made the snooty grey mare so deliciously intriguing when they met, after all, testing to try to break that calm and collected exterior and unleash the true pony hiding behind it - but this was terrible to watch.

The nurse interrupted Vinyl's thoughts with a tap on her shoulder. "The foal is coming, Miss. Would you like to come to a better angle to see, or stay here to keep your wife company?"

"I don't know," Vinyl glanced at the softly whimpering Octavia, whose eyes were squeezed shut again, as if that could block out the pain. "I mean, I'd like to see the foal, but I think she needs me to stay here."

The nurse nodded. "Very well. If you really want to, I can take your place for a time while you watch the birth."

"No. No, it's okay. I'll stay here with Octy. She needs me," Vinyl insisted, patting the hoof that still squeezed hers. "I don't think I could forgive myself if I left her now, even for this. I'm only a pony, you know."

Vinyl focused her attention back on her wife, keeping her eyes on the keening mare and repeating the same empty promises of an end to the pain, almost more to reassure herself then anypony else. She was relieved to have something to do - because, though she was reluctant to admit it, the poor mare was as skittish of blood as she was shots, and would much rather stay out of the vicinity where she would be able to see her beloved bleed. It was enough to see her in so much pain.

She kept hoping, praying, promising, that the foal would be alright - that the doctors' hushed whispers and hurried steps were nothing - which she had no proof they weren't - anything.

At last the doctor breathed a sigh of relief as the weak squeal of a newborn foal filled the emptiness in the room, mingling with the sound of Octavia's laboured breathing.

In a flash Vinyl was at the side of the doctor, pushing between nurses to see the foal. She was tiny, smaller then Tambourine ha been - thinner - with damp white fur and a scruffy dark blue and purple mane. Vinyl sighed happily, sliding her shades back on her nose to hide her tears.

"You did it, Octy," She said wondrously. "She's here, and she's beautiful."

Octavia smiled weakly up at her, still panting. "I did it." She nodded graciously, almost regally as the nurse slipped the baby into her waiting hooves, watching it in awe. "You're right, Vinyl. It was worth it. She's beautiful."

Vinyl gave Octavia a light kiss on the tip of her muzzle, gazing at her affectionately. "I'm so proud of you, Octy. You're a real mother now."

"Yeah," Octavia giggled softly. "I guess I am. I'm pretty proud of me, too, now that I think about it. I did a splendid job, other then the crying and screaming and wishing I was dead and - ooh, nevermind. I won't list all that. I love you, Vin'. Thanks for sitting here next to me and letting me crush your hoof this whole time."

"Anytime, Octy. I would be a terrible wife not to be here, and even if it wasn't common courtesy, I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

"How long was it, anyways?"

"Dunno," Vinyl shrugged. "An hour, maybe? Two? - "

"Six and a half, actually. But that's normal," the nurse assured them.

"Well," Octavia said. grinning. "They do say time flies when you're having fun."