Still, Life

by MasterThief

V. Rose Of My Heart

There weren’t many professional engineers in Ponyville one could turn to, but Burnt Oak pointed them in the direction of one, a Mr. Hondo Flanks. “He’s a unicorn,” Burnt Oak said, “done some good work for me. Family man, too.”

Hondo took their meeting, and Mac could tell he was skeptical of their claims. But Grandpear’s persistence, and more than a bit of his farm salesmanship, won him over, and he said he’d at least run the numbers.

He called a few days later and asked for another meeting. This time, with two lawyers.

Grandpear had been right. That dam had been a deluge in waiting for years, and nobody had cared about it but him. Until now.

Hondo and the lawyers promised they’d take it from here and would have news in two weeks.

Two weeks later, Mac was able to read the morning mail again. He’d gotten his eyes checked–Grandpear had paid for that, too–and discovered, to his chagrin, that his heroics had worsened the astigmatism that ran on his father’s side of the family, so he’d be needing glasses.

The letter caught his eye, not just because of the fine title, but the sheer size of it.

Inside was a massive pile of correspondence between engineers, lawyers, and government officials. Mac didn’t understand some of it, but Grandpear explained the hard parts. In a nutshell, everyone had belatedly realized that the dam, built by the government, had not been built to spec. Rather than go through a court trial, the Royal Corps of Engineers was offering 1) to compensate the Apple family for all of their losses from the flood down to the bit, and 2) to inspect every other dam in Equestria built with that design to make sure none of them would fail.

Mac huddled with his family, and even took the time to talk to Burnt Oak about it, who’d spent his Army years with the RCE. “Sounds to me like they know they bucked up hard,” Oak said. “Never heard of the Corps movin’ so fast with inspections, too. Probably tryin’ ta get ahead of this before it makes the papers and all them folks up in Canterlot start askin’ questions.”

Buttercup was even more direct. “They messed up. They’re offerin’ to make it right. That’s a lesson worth teachin, and worth learnin. I say take it, and let them work the rest out.”

Mac nodded, his mind made up. “Lessons? You saying that as my wife or as a mama?”

“Both,” she said, smiled, and kissed him.

---

There was a lot of paperwork to be done, though, and Mac sat through it all with Grandpear, learning lessons about bureaucracies and laws and rules and regulations, things he never knew existed and yet would have made so much of his work and his life so much easier. But at the end of it all, a Royal Treasury Check, in an amount that Mac had never even seen before. Everything they had lost, all made good.

That night, there was celebration in the Apple Family. Everything was provided for. Mac and Buttercup rested easy that night.

---

For the next few years, Grandpear split his time between Ponyville and Vanhoover, taking care of his two wildly far apart business concerns.

That summer, hat in hand, asked if he could move back to Ponyville and take up his old house.

Buttercup counter-offered with a new addition to the house, including a room for him. He graciously accepted.

Mac pondered this offer later that night as he and Buttercup got ready for bed. “That’s a big addition you’re talking about. That’s gonna be a big room, just for him.”

“Nope,” Buttercup said. “We’re gonna need two new rooms. She embraced him, and whispered in his ear. “I’m pregnant,” she said, and kissed him.

But a fear awoke in Mac. The memory of what she’d gone through, what he’d gone through too, was too near. He simply sat down on the bed, and silently cursed his own carelessness.

“What’s wrong, Mac?” Buttercup sat down next to him. “I thought you’d…”

Mac could only sigh. “After all that happened…” he trailed off. “It’s good news. I’m happy. But I’m also scared out of my mind.” He felt a cracking in his hooves, and took off his glasses. “After what happened to you last time, I don’t want to see you go through that again.”

Buttercup sat down next to him. “I’m a bit scared too,” she said. “But I want this. I accept this risk. Life is always risk. But no risk, no reward. And no love. And that ain't living.”

“But why?” Mac asked.

She took his hoof in hers. “I was supposed to grow up in a family of four. That got taken away from me. So…” she said, “I figure if fate did all that to us, and we survived, we must have some powerful guardian angel protectin’ us.”

“We’re tempting fate,” he said. “You’re tempting fate.”

“I don’t intend to be choppin’ firewood two days before this one comes,” she said. “Figure you and Burnt Oak can take care o’that. Plus, I’ll be careful, I promise. Regular checkups, off my feet when I need to be, the whole lot. But aside from that…”

She made a fake-spitting noise, at which Mac couldn’t help but giggle.

“I spit at fate. We survived. Now we’re gonna live. No more bein’ afraid of the future.”

She turned his face toward hers.

“That’s what hope is.”

Mac looked at his wife. His Perfect Pear.

---

That’s what hope is.

Everything Bright Mac and Buttercup had been through, flashed before his eyes in an instance.

Their first meeting as foals.

Their innocent friendship.

The plague.

The deaths.

They day they parted in sadness.

The day he saw her in the field, and ran over a water tower because her beauty stuck in his mind.

The days they reconnected.

The day they fell in love.

The day he set their love in stone for her.

The day she sang for him.

The day she sang and you should not blame me too, if I can’t help falling in love with you.

The day she was forced to choose, and chose him.

The sadness.

Her welcoming into the family.

She telling him he was working too hard.

He telling her it’s all for you and always will be.

The day they welcomed a son.

Perfect date night after perfect date night.

Her strumming her guitar, speaking Ardennais.

The day they welcomed a daughter.

How happy motherhood made her.

How that happiness made Bright Mac work all the harder for her.

The storm.

The flood.

The lean times.

The hunger.

The pain.

The blood.

The second chance.

Their reunion.

Their new daughter.

Their benefactors, large and small.

The generosity that surrounded them, invisibly, when all seemed lost.

The return of what was once thought gone.

The coming back together, as if grafting branches feared dead onto new rootstock, and seeing them coming back to life and bearing fruit.

The joy Mac realized he felt at no longer having to be the sole stallion in the house.

The work divided, the burdens shared.

The joy that was to come.

The faith Pear Butter had in the future she shared with Bright Mac.

The love Bright Mac had for Pear Butter.

Their hope, built together, but not built alone.

And Bright Mac, for the first time in a very, very, long time, was no longer afraid of the future.

I survived. We survived. Together.

---

The first time Mac held his newborn son, he cried. For the first time in as long as he could remember, the tears flowed freely and fully. Nothing more to be concealed or forced away. Something other than the strong, silent, stallion who could never, ever, let his strength fail.

Everything had gone perfectly. None of his fears and anxieties had come true. He traced every last detail of his son’s face with a gentle hoof, tears of joy in his eyes, messing up his vision again and again and again, despite his glasses.

Buttercup rolled over to him, reaching out to her son, and to her son’s father.

“Now d’ya get it?” She asked him.

“I do,” he said, and held his son, and his wife close, vowing to always remember.

We are alive. We are not alone. And we are going to live.

Comments

[SpikeSpringSparkle]

I love this fic.

[FanOfMostEverything]

Oh, this is gorgeous. I kind of want to explore this timeline further, but I'm happy to leave it here. Outstanding exploration of Bright Mac's character in a wide variety of circumstances, along with a great supporting cast. I love the little logical bits like Buttercup speaking pony-French inferred from her father's nickname. Thank you for a deeply touching story, and best of luck in the judging.

[new55]

That was a good story.

[Ghost Mike]

An oddball ghost happened across your fic and read it. Have a review!

[MasterThief]

11447654
Thank you, oddball ghost! (Yeah, let this be a reminder to me that I've got to start writing these things earlier than just before the deadline. )