I Will Be Strong

by nerothewizard

I Will Be Strong

When I saw Cup collapse, I knew what it was. I fought against the idea, fought hard, but cold reality soon breached my defenses. She'd been complaining of headaches more frequently, and she was often tired despite getting plenty of sleep, but she shrugged it off, told me it was no big deal, that I shouldn't worry. Ironic, I think, that if I hadn't listened to my wife, maybe we might have caught it in time.

Such a surreal sight stuck with me, played over and over in my mind. She hadn't looked good at all that day, her face a paler blue than usual, but at her insistence, I agreed to let her help me out in the kitchen. Her work pace was slow, her steps dragging, and I was just about ready to tell her to go back and upstairs and rest a little when it happened. In that moment, she didn't even look like my wife, her visage a ghostly white, eyes rolling back, the tray of cookies she'd grasped in her teeth clattering noisily to the tile. I was frozen in place, watching as she fell, only able to react after she was sprawled out on her side, her body twitching.

I knew what had happened. Somehow, in my gut, I was already sure, so the doctor's words didn't shock me like they did her, didn't reduce me to a weeping mess. Even so, it wasn't any easier to learn the hardest truth I'd ever had to hear, nor was it a simple task to break the news of her diagnosis to everypony else. More than one letter sent to a friend or relative in a city far away bore tear-shaped stains. But I had to be strong. For her, I had to soldier on.

Treatment options were pursued, of course. In time, her gorgeous rose mane began to disappear, a victim of therapy, and she started wearing hats or even refusing to go out at all, save for yet another session at the hospital. We had the doctors bombard her body with whatever they thought might give her a chance, and I watched the cheerful, joyous mare I knew descend into depression and frustration. It wasn't enough that this disease was claiming her body, as each test brought back disheartening result after disheartening result; her soul was falling victim as well. I did my best to stay strong and supportive, but some nights, after I'd tucked her into bed and watched her sink into a fitful, restless sleep, I would go downstairs and cry. I would look around me, at the wonderful little bakery we'd built here in Ponyville, and the memories of smiles and days spent filling orders with the wonderful mare would break me. But I never let her see. It was my job to be her rock, and no matter what, that's what I would be.

The final hospital visit almost did me in. She'd been fighting so hard for all those months, wasting away to a shadow of her old self, but all it took was the expression on the doctor's face to let us know that it had all been for naught. The war was lost, and her body's final betrayal was imminent; all we could do now was wait for the inevitable.

Her reaction took me by surprise. There weren't many tears, no shouts or pleas for the doctor to say something different, to provide her with any smidgen of hope that she could cling to. There was only acceptance. I came so close to breaking down, but I didn't know why at first. Now, of course, I know it's because I was jealous. Initially, it made no sense to me; why would I be jealous of my own wife, who'd just received a death sentence? But the truth soon dawned on me. It was because at that moment, when everything was at its darkest, it was Cup Cake, not Carrot Cake, who stood strong.

She's here beside me now, lying in the bed that we've shared for nearly forty years. When given the choice between staying in the hospital and coming home to live out her final days, the decision was an easy one, even if it meant her already numbered days would be fewer. Her mane has been reduced to little more than stubble, and her once round, lively face is gaunt and pale, but she's still my beautiful girl. I clasp her hoof with mine; the doctor didn't give her very much time, and my gut is once again speaking to me, telling me to hold on to every moment tonight.

Pinkie's in the other room, probably trying to get some sleep. She's been staying with us the past few days, helping me take care of Cup while her husband Joe watches their pastry shop in Canterlot. It's been almost like old times, having Pinkie back in Sugarcube Corner, but now, it's noticeably quieter and more subdued. I caught her one night in the kitchen, bawling her eyes out much as I had too many times before, and I just held her as she poured out her sorrow and grief. She was like our first daughter, so I know how hard this is on her. She tries to stay upbeat, but I know she needed that release. We all will before too long.

Pumpkin and Pound arrived in town two days ago. I'm convinced that Cup was doing her best to hang on, just so she could see her babies one final time. They were here all day today, up until just about an hour ago, tears flowing freely as they reminisced about their childhood and shared memories with their mother. I'd forgotten some of the stories they told. We smiled; we laughed; we cried. For one perfect day, we were together as a family again.

Now, it's my time to be alone with the mare I've loved for so many years. Her breathing is labored, and the light in her eyes is fading; I know, deep in my heart, that this is my last chance to say something before her fight is over. I squeeze her hoof to let her know that I'm right here beside her, and she meets my gaze and offers a weak smile.

How can I express a lifetime of love and commitment, of triumphs and tragedies, of raising a family and running a business side by side with the one who stole my heart so long ago? What words can possibly express how much I'll miss her, how I'll think of her every second of every day? Can language even convey that every beat of my heart, every breath in my lungs from this moment forward, will be filled with both the indescribable pain of loss and the confidence that we'll be reunited in the next life?

No words come. I know now that there's no need for them, because one look at her face, even marred by the progress of the unmerciful disease, tells me that she already knows all of that. She looks content, no hints of fear to be found. Her life has been full and productive, and I'm glad to have been able to spend most of it with her. Her warm, soft smile sets my heart soaring, knowing that here, at the end, there's no place she'd rather be than here in her bed, next to the stallion that loves her with every fiber of his being. Every peck on the cheek, every stolen glance, every time we said we loved each other and meant it wholeheartedly, no questions asked; our lives together have told the story better than anything I say ever could, and so the silence is fitting, knowing that there's nothing more to add.

I brush my lips across hers, our final kiss, and stroke her cheek with my hoof as her breathing slows and her eyelids flutter and shut. One last, long exhale, and I can feel her presence slip free of the broken body beside me, part of my soul flying alongside hers into the great unknown. I lower her hoof to the bed and pat it gently, a sort of numbness settling over me as I stare at her unmoving form.

Minutes pass; I don't know how many. A knock catches my attention, and I look up to see Pinkie standing in the doorway. Her eyes glisten, and she chokes out a question to which she already knows the answer. “Is she gone?”

I nod solemnly and sit up, spreading my hooves to receive Pinkie in a tight embrace. There will be tears, much like the ones the pink pony is shedding now as she buries her face in my shoulder. Yes, we will mourn the loss of a beloved wife, mother, and friend, but I won't let the sadness overtake me. For her, I will be strong, just as she was for me, and one day, I know I'll walk by her side once again.

Comments

[Alexstrazsa]

Normally I would put some sort of clever "feels" image or gif here, but I feel that would take away from people who want to comment earnestly. It's both a beautiful and tragic tale of a loving husband spending the final moments with his wife... and I can't undermine your efforts like that. Good work.

[SuperPinkBrony12]

You know I don't think I've ever read a sad story revolving around the Cakes and considering the date you uploaded this I think you really taped into the spirit of this country, good job my friend.

[Learn for Life]

Warning: to those reading this for the first time, this comment contains heavy spoilers. If you don't want spoilers, DON'T read this comment!

Before I say anything, I'll just clarify that these are my opinions. You may take them any way you wish. also note that things I point out are not meant to discourage you in any way.

I find this to be a short-yet-enjoyable story. I thought the plot was well done, the characterizations were good, and the overall atmosphere was good. There was both a sense of dread and optimism throughout, and I thought that was well done.

The story of Cup and Carrot Cake's relationship from Carrot's POV was very-well done. Your overall tone, having the story being told to us in an objective point-of-view with some emotion in there really allowed us to see how their relationship was, and I thought that was excellent. His reminiscing about Cup's condition was very good, since he did so without unnecessary descriptions. Very well done.

For the most part, the story flowed very well. You had the beginning to describe how they got to be where they are, and then the end to focus on their final moment. Again, very well done.

There were a few things I must complain about, though. First, there were two things in one paragraph that stuck out at me as a problem:

Her reaction took me by surprise. There weren't many tears, no shouts or pleas for the doctor to say something different, to provide her with any smidgen of hope that she could cling to. There was only acceptance. I came so close to breaking down, but I didn't know what at first. Now, of course, I know it's because I was jealous. It made no sense; why would I be jealous of my own wife, who'd just received a death sentence? But I knew. It was because at that moment, when everything was at its darkest, it was Cup Cake, not Carrot Cake, who stood strong.

1. I think you meant "I came so close to breaking down, but I didn't know why at first".
2. It made no sense, but he knew? That's contradictory. It's told in his point-of-view, so it either completely makes sense to him or it doesn't. I don't understand this part.

Second, I believe the pacing of the story was thrown off just a tiny bit. Everything you had as backstory was how Cup Cake suffered, and then accepted her fate. That was fine. Then you described the current situation where Cup Cake and Carrot Cake are in bed, and you describe how she looks. This is also fine. And then you describe Pinkie Pie in the other room. Again, that's fine.

But then you talk about Pound and Pumpkin Cake visiting two days ago. You had this past tense moment stuck right in the middle of this moment with Cup Cake and Carrot Cake and, although I understand that may be a stray thought entering his mind, it throws the story off a bit. Paragraph-by-paragraph, this is how your story played out: backstory-backstory-backstory-backstory-backstory-backstory-present-present-past-present-present-present-present-present-present. Having that past thrown into the present throws it off for me. I think, after talking about accepting her fate, moving the Pound and Pumpkin Cake paragraph after that one would help the story flow better; that way, we can focus completely on Cup Cake and Carrot Cake's final moment.

Third, I think you overused commas. Granted, I don't recall them being used incorrectly, but you had a whole lot. That many stops kinda slowed down the work unnecessarily, methinks.

Overall, though, I enjoyed it. Your characterization was excellent, your atmosphere was excellent, and your plot was excellent. I do feel like fixing those errors, and cutting back on the commas, would greatly benefit this story. Overall, I've given this story its third like, and I'll be favoriting it.

I wish you the best of your talents with your other stories!

[nerothewizard]

1257785 Thank you, most sincerely.

1258379 I assure you, the upload date was entirely coincidental, but thank you for the sentiment.

1258392 Thanks for the thorough review! Those are the type I like to see. As for your points, I'll address them one by one.

1) I wasn't especially happy with how I expressed his thoughts in that paragraph either, but I wasn't sure how to fix that at the time. Now that it's not four o'clock in the morning, I've revised it to better express his shifting perspective.
2) Actually, both the paragraphs about Pinkie and the Cake twins address the past, considering that he flashes back to when he found her crying. I feel that the flow of the story isn't interrupted by his brief references to earlier events, and I don't think it really takes anything away from their shared moment.
3) Some people accuse me of being comma-happy, but honestly, if a situation requires a comma, then darn it, I'm going to use a comma. (See previous sentence for a prime example.) Especially in a first-person POV where thoughts flow a little more freely, commas are often necessary, and I don't believe any of mine were used excessively.

Also, thanks for the spoiler alert warning; I've read far too many comments that gave away key points before I had a chance to read about them. Again, thank you very much for the review!

[zephyrdash]

This was so sad... Great job though... :(

[Learn for Life]

1258865 Now that I've finally gotten back to my precious computer (), lemme respond to your response.

1. I saw the changes you made. Thank you.

2. We'll have to agree to disagree on that.

3. If it's your style, and other people don't complain about it, then alrighty then.

Thank you for taking the comment maturely.

[nerothewizard]

1261295 I was going to respond with "ZOMG Y U NO LIEK STORRY I ARE NEVAR RITE ANYTHING EVAR AGAIN AAAAAAAAAARGH" but figured that a civilized approach might yield more positive results.

[Learn for Life]

1262117 Okay, I gotta watch you. You interest me.

Gosh, I really hope you were joking about that.

[nerothewizard]

1262126 Don't worry, Sweetie Belle...I was. And a sincere thank you for the watch!

[Avenging-Hobbits]

i1.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/225/378/sweetie%20belle%20that%20is%20beautiful.jpg

I usually avoid sad fics, but damn....that truly was beautiful. My grandfather dyed of cancer when I was 7 or 8. This truly was beautiful......

[ponylover]

thts all i can say right now and this is the only time i will shed a tear literly. Never felt this sad since My little dashie. Amzeing work man amazeing....i will recommend this to alot of friends. I need a tissue.

[Alpha Scorpii]

This was very moving.

I almost shed a tear. So far, no work of fiction has ever made me cry, but the most moving ones, which are only a few, managed to wet my eyes a bit. Your story has done it too. Good job.

[nerothewizard]

1496972 Then I have done what I set out to do. Thank you for the read!

[fluttershywriter]

This is quite possibly the saddest fic I've ever read.

[Bronylicious]

**** there was the sound of my heart breaking. Oh my gosh... This is so much more emotional simply because I'm writing a story about them young...

[eeeviee]

Although I am usually a very emotional person, I haven't cried to a fanfic since My Little Dashie. And that was some time ago.
This is beautiful, albiet heartwrenching. I'm defintely giving this a positive review

[iCuddles]

Excuse me for a moment. My face is leaking. Ahem. *Sniff*
But all joking aside, that was beautiful. I just cant stop the tears streaming down my face. Well done for making me cry.