A Christmas Shimmer

by applezombi

Ghost of Christmas Doppelganger

It was a rare moment of peace in Professor Shimmer’s dark office. There would be no students pestering her for help with their work, or reference letters, or questions about their latest grades, at least until the new year. It was a brief window into how things could be.

How things should be. And would be, once she had tenure and no longer had to put up with these puling children.

To be fair, most of them were almost her age. But it wasn’t Sunset Shimmer’s fault that they were still taking things slowly while she’d gotten her Masters degree at twenty. Her first Masters; the MS in physics had been a cakewalk. Now she wanted more, and the psychology department had already told her she could begin doing coursework towards her therapy degree.

Not that she intended to use it to open a practice or anything; she just found that people were easier to handle if she knew exactly what made them tick, or understood the levers to pull to make them bend.

A sudden cacophony of shattering glass from the lab nearby made her jerk up in her seat, breathing hard and diving for the mace she kept in the top drawer of her immaculately organized desk. She popped off the safety cap and moved to the door, peering around into the dimly lit lab beyond.

It was a grad student, her eyes wide with shame and horror behind thick glasses. Sunset didn’t know her name, but she knew well the look of terror in her eyes. The glass from a dozen broken test tubes spread across the floor. Sunset sighed and slipped the mace into the pocket of her suit jacket, stepping into the lab.

“I thought the school was closed for the holiday, miss…” Sunset trailed off expectantly.

“Um, I’m Moondancer,” the student said, and gulped. “And yes, it’s closed. I, uh, I made arrangements with the security guard. I’ve been coming in every day since break started. Nobody’s been here yet.”

“You’ve got nowhere else to be? No family or friends?”

“No,” Moondancer said, with the emphatic huff that Sunset immediately noticed.

It wasn’t that Sunset set out to notice the details that she could later use to manipulate people. She didn’t do it on purpose. It just happened naturally. And it was clear to see that this Moondancer was lonely and fragile. Someone had betrayed her in the past. Idly Sunset wondered if it was healthy to think this way.

“Okay. So you’re going to have to clean that up,” Sunset said, and Moondancer nodded wordlessly. “There’s no janitors, after all. There’s a broom and dustpan in the supply closet. And while you do that, you can tell me what you’re working on.”

“Magic,” Moondancer said. Sunset scowled, but inwardly she was pleased. A driven student, made bitter and fragile because of some past pain, and eager to study Sunset’s favorite new subject? Sunset wondered if she’d just found her next pawn. It would be effortless to bring this girl into her orbit and wring her dry of every useful ounce of research, labor, and brilliance. “I used to go to a school called Crystal Prep, and you see there was a…”

“A magic incident, I know,” Sparks of excitement danced up and down her spine, and she had to fight not to show it on the outside. It wouldn’t be good to show Moondancer just how valuable she was. Maybe she’d even be an ‘in’ to some of the individuals involved, who so far had stonewalled her every effort to determine exactly what had gone on at the so-called Friendship Games.

“I need to understand it,” Moondancer’s jaw was set with determination. “And I’m this close to a breakthrough. I knew someone who had invented a spectrometer to track the source of these incidents, but she…” Moondancer sucked in a breath of air as her mouth clicked shut.

And there’s the source of your pain, Sunset smiled with inward triumph. A good rival, something to drive this student on, would be helpful. “You’re not in touch with this inventor any longer?”

“No,” Moondancer said in a strangled yelp. She glanced down at the floor, and suddenly remembered the broken glass. With a start, she darted over and yanked the supply closet open, scurrying back with the broom and dustpan. “No, I’m not. And I think she destroyed it. I don’t know why.”

“So you’re inventing your own now. But why are you in the chemistry lab?”

“I… well, nobody’s at the incident site right now, so I collected some soil samples I’d like to test. This lab is the best I could get access to for testing the samples, and see if I can start sorting out a new magic spectrometer.” Her eyes were still on the floor as she began sweeping up the glass. For a moment it was silent, except for the tinkling of the glass against the ceramic floor. “Um. Um, you’re not going to kick me out, are you? You’re Professor Shimmer, right? All the other students say…” She glanced up, her eyes wide behind her glasses, before she gulped and let out a little squeak. “Nevermind.”

“What do the other students say?”

“Nothing!”

Sunset thought to press, but didn’t. It should have made her feel like she’d won. The students she taught, her coworkers, her department head, they were all intimidated by her. Just as she’d meant. She had everything she wanted.

But the look of fear in this young student’s eyes was unsettling.

“Tell me what they say, and I’ll let you use the lab.”

“They…” Moondancer swept the glass into a dustpan, before turning towards the trash can near the door. Her back was to Sunset. “They call you the ‘Bitch Queen.’ They say you’d never lift a finger to help anybody, unless it helped you. They even told me you’d probably be here because you don’t have any—”

“Get out!” Sunset hissed before Moondancer could finish that thought. Moondancer flinched, shoulders tight and hunched.

“But you said—”

“Get out!” she cried again. “Get out, I don’t want to look at your—”

Someone knocked on the door of the lab, and both student and professor froze. Sunset reached for the mace in her pocket. There was a comfort to the cold metal cylinder, and she used that comfort to rein in her pounding heart.

“Who’s there?” she called out, far more confidently than she felt.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” the voice called back. Moondancer jerked, wide eyes shooting between the door and the professor. “But if we can all stay calm, I’m sure we can get through this night without any regrettable incidents.” The voice laughed. “Um. Sorry, didn’t mean to overhear. I was waiting for an opportune moment to interrupt, but it never really came. But I think I could answer some of your questions about magic.”

“Magic? Who do you think you are, you…” Sunset surged past Moondancer, thrusting herself into the light of the hallway until she could see the figure beyond.

It was… her. Another Sunset. Identical. The clothing and hair were different, but it was the same orange and yellow hair, the same cerulean eyes, the same confident smirk.

She was dressed in a damp pink parka, with her hands shoved into her pockets. Her nose was ruddy from the cold outside, and slush dripped from her black boots.

“Who are you?” Sunset hissed, pulling the mace out of her pocket to aim it at the doppelganger. She was impressed that her hand was steady. Moondancer jerked back, and the fake Sunset held up her hands defensively.

“Woah, Sunset, please, calm down!”

“How do you know my name?!” The tube of mace jerked as she waved it about. “Who are you? Why do you look like me? What are you doing here?”

“Like I said, calm down!” She was slowly backing away, moving with deliberate steps back further into the hallway. “I can answer your questions, but I’m gonna need you to put the mace away first! I promise, I can even answer some of your questions about magic!”

“Why should—”

“Look, you were both just talking about magic, right? I’m telling you, I’ve got some free answers for you. First hand, eyewitness stuff. Are you really gonna pass up this opportunity just because you’re scared?” She turned to Moondancer. “Are you?”

“No!” Moondancer nearly cried out.

And that’s when Sunset noticed. Moondancer wasn’t frightened. She was elated. The slightly younger student was nearly vibrating, clutching at her chest with both hands, twitching back and forth.

There was a pang of regret, something Sunset thought she’d killed off years ago. When did she stop being excited about new discoveries? When did the thrill of learning lose its savor? When had she…

“No, wait!” she screamed. Sunset had gotten lost in her own head, and while she’d been self-reflecting, the doppelganger had pulled her hand out of her parka pocket and was reaching for Moondancer, who was reaching back eagerly.

Sunset surged forward, all her regrets and doubts and worries draining out of her head, leaving a blind, flashing panic. Her arm was locked out in front of her, and she frantically slammed down the trigger of the mace with her thumb.

It broke. Cheap plastic cracked under the assault of her, and she squawked in pain as the jagged broken trigger bit into her thumb. She felt it break skin.

Meanwhile, Moondancer and the other Sunset had touched hands. It was a light thing, a minor brush of their fingers, but the fake Sunset’s eyes glowed with white, unnatural light. Sunset only had a moment of hesitation before she shoved herself between the two of them, grabbing at the imposter’s fingers.
Sunset felt… something. She would have described it as an invasion, if it didn’t feel warm. Comfortable. Like… like…

A memory, unbidden and forgotten, floated into her mind. A little Sunset, young, far younger than she liked, sat at a battered but strong kitchen table, a cracked mug full of steaming cocoa at her side.

In her fist she clutched an oversized green crayon. The paper spread in front of her was full of the nearly-illegible scribbles of a six-year old. But Sunset didn’t need to be able to read them.

She remembered.

“Dear Santa

I don’t need any presents. You can give your gifts to other kids. I just want to see a real life magic unicorn.

I love you Santa

Sunset Shimmer”

It had been a decade and a half since that day. Sunset Shimmer had thought she was done with it. She thought it had healed. A tiny mass of scar tissue, deep in her psyche, never to be brought up again.

Nearly fifteen years of bitterness, skepticism, manipulation.

Could you really trace all that back to one single crushing disappointment?

Sunset blinked. She was sitting on the floor, in the hallway. The other her was smiling, chatting with Moondancer, who was firing questions at her faster than she could answer.

“...you know, you’re really fine to write all this down, Moondancer. You have my contact info. And you know where I’m attending school. Send us an email any time.”

“I…” Moondancer hesitated. “But Twilight—”

“Twilight owes you an apology,” the other her said firmly. “And I promise you, she’s the kind of woman now who will give it. But until she can, I can only apologize for her.”

“Okay, but—”

“Moondancer. You know how to reach me. But I have to help Sunset now. It’s important.” The doppelganger smiled. “Besides, it’s nearly one in the morning! You need to get to bed! And remember what I said. You’re welcome to come over for Christmas Brunch. If you’re willing to see Twilight again, that is.”

It hurt to watch. Kindness and grace, forgiveness and apology, coming from her face. Her voice.

What had changed?

Where had she gone wrong?

Sunset Shimmer, her head still spinning, held on to the wall as she pulled herself up on unsteady feet.

“Somebody needs to explain what’s going on, or I’m going to make you all regret it.”

Sunset hated how hollow her own threat sounded.

Comments

[Thought Prism]

For a hot second I thought Sunset kept a medieval barbarian's melee weapon in her desk.

[Born-From-Black-Lightnin]

11101813
Now I’m picturing Discord pulling out a can of mace that sprays out maces instead of pepper spray.

Or would it be more funny/nonsensical for it to spray out axes?