Myselves

by Trick Question

Mirror Match

...everything is warm again. I'm nude. I'm lying on my couch. The pain is a vague memory. It's still terrible, but it's just a memory now—a 'normal' one. I'm quivering like an abandoned puppy, willing the details to fade with every bit of myself I still have left.

Something about the puppy analogy makes us feel awful, so I disregard it. "Listen very closely, me. Never, ever remember that event again," I tell myself, as though there were any chance of me not agreeing with me. "I guess 'remembering' is okay in general, but no detail. Please. I can't take that again, we just can't."

I pant deeply for about a minute, and then I finally sit up. The memory fades further. I'm starting to think my brain filled in some of the mental gaps during the experience, because I'm pretty sure something about the pain I experienced must have been erased the first time around.

I respond to the thought going through our mind. "Maybe we're right. I didn't think our imagination could be that vivid, but memory is reconstructive in nature, so it's plausible," I suggest. "We were looking for a winterchilla to... impress Apple Bloom? Something like that. We found a snipe, and then..."

My head still hurts, but the pain is heavily muted now. The fear from the experience is the thing that still haunts us. "Then the bad thing. Look, we're not thinking about that ever again. Never, ever, ever. I don't even want to talk about it."

"I'm not trying to stress us out, but we need to at least get the basic facts down, okay? Snipes avoid conflict if they aren't threatened, so they probably left right after... after that. I'm sure I heard somepony racing toward me after we screamed."

"Yeah, me too," I said, shivering against the couch. "So... what does this all mean? Are we still in danger?"

I shook my head. (I wasn't sure I could control my body like that until now, but I didn't seem to mind.) "We should be safe. I know that snipe venom isn't deadly, don't ask me how, and whoever arrived probably took us to safety," I explained. "But we shouldn't be having hallucinations of memories at all, so there's clearly something wrong."

"Could we be asleep, maybe?" I ask. "Or like, really unconscious." I look down at the couch and see the letter. We're back in the previous memory again, apparently.

"The letter. This, um, 'epiphanic moment' we went through... I think it happened a few years before the place we were, unless we're bouncing around in time or something," I say. "I don't know why we're here again. I don't think this is a dream, though. It's still too vivid."

"Oh! My dreams have been this vivid when Princess Luna visited them. Could she be here?"

"I doubt it. I don't think she would have let us have that nightmare from before, and even if she showed up late she'd have revealed herself to see if we're alright," I argue.

"So we got stung and it sent us, like, into the past or something? I don't understand any of this! What is happening?!" I notice I'm hyperventilating. I try to relax, but it's difficult. This is too much to take in, and I'm not helping things.

I don't feel as nervous as I sound, but the nervous tension in my body is something I can definitely sense. It's slowly easing. I try to think more about where exactly we're trapped. "Let's try to calm down a little. Help me think this through," I say.

I take a deep breath and try to center myself. At the same time, I look down at my haunch. It's blank. That definitely seems wrong. Didn't I end up getting my cutie mark? I could have sworn that happened.

I'm pretty sure I can tell what I'm thinking about, so I respond. "This memory should be from before I got my mark," I point out. "If I eventually get one, I don't remember what it looks like, or even what it means. It feels like I've never had one, even though I'm sure I've always wanted one. Maybe that's just because of when we are, since we shouldn't know anything about it when this memory takes place."

"Our cutie mark... Oh, I do remember a little! I'm not sure what it looks like exactly, but I know it looks like Apple Bloom's and Sweetie Belle's," I say, grinning. "We'll all end up getting them at the same time, which is super cool! I don't remember why we end up getting them, but it's hard to remember things right now, especially when they haven't happened yet. From this point in history or whatever. I don't mind if we remember something like that again, though. I'm sure there were no snipes involved."

Something is nagging at me. "Am I certain this is even the same memory? Or did I keep the letter, and this is just real life again... with a confusing brain problem?" I ask myself.

I ponder that, leaning back against the couch. "I don't think I'd leave it on the couch for years, so let me think." It takes a moment, but some of the details come back to me. "Okay, I kept it for a little bit, then I ended up tearing it up and throwing it away. I was worried somepony might find it," I say. "I don't think I was worried about the secret in the letter, I think I was just embarrassed to have it. I don't remember a lot of details after reading it, though. I remember feeling weird and putting the letter in my desk for a while, but the rest is just a blur. I don't feel like I have to read the letter again or go through the motions or whatever now that I remember what was in it, so it makes sense this would feel real now, but I think we're still in the past."

"Cool. Maybe we can just do whatever we want now? We should be careful about altering the past, but we both feel like this isn't real life. Everything is too weird," I say. "Hay, earlier you said this memory was from 1000 Anno Solequus, and we're pretty sure years have passed since then. So, here's a question: how old should we be in this memory?"

"This year I think we turn eleven, because we were born in 989. I'll end up having a big birthday party for the first time ever, and it'll be great," I say. "Why does my age matter?"

I grin, but my body doesn't obey this time. "It matters because I have an idea. We should try looking into a mirror. We might remember being older than we look, because it's got to be later than 1000 A.S., and anything that jogs our memories without taking us back to the forest is a better idea than being stuck here. At least we should be safe in this memory, unless we're forgetting something awful."

"I don't think anything as bad as that snipe has ever happened to us," I say, then I think about looking in the mirror. There's a full-length mirror on the inside of the hallway bathroom door, but it has a crack in it from where I punched it last year. I don't remember why I did that, but I hate looking into the mirror because of how pathetic my wings are, so I just keep the bathroom door open all the time. I guess that's gross, but it's not like anypony else lives here with me. I told Amethyst that the crack in the mirror was an accident, but she told my aunts and—

"Hay, me! Stay with myself, okay? Are we going to the mirror or not?"

"Sorry, lost in thought. A different thought. I have too many thoughts," I think out loud. "You're right, the mirror's a great idea, let's go!"

"Weird. I don't feel lost in thought. Am I part of your thoughts? I hope I'm not like, part of your imagination, or lost inside it. That's kind of scary to think about," I say as we get off the couch. This time it feels like I'm doing it. "I'm not sure how being lost in myself would work."

"I'm not sure how anything works right now." Okay, we're cantering to the bathroom. I'd rather gallop, but the last time I did that I slipped on some trash in the hallway and hurt myself and pain is not my friend today. I enter the bathroom and grab the edge of the door with my hoof.

My mind takes a deep, slow, cleansing breath before we close the bathroom door, which is weird because my body doesn't do it, but it almost does... I think. This is a very unusual day.

This is very unusual day. "Oh. I think I just thought that twice in a row. I hope we're not crazy."

"Don't get our hopes up." I feel a little bad about being sarcastic, but it helps me shut the door and face the dreaded mirror.

Scootaloo breathes a sigh of relief, and I wipe my forehead with the front of my pastern. No, I mean the back. No, that can't be right either. The hoof bends forward, and it faces forward when I'm standing with four hooves on the ground, so that part is clearly the 'front', and the 'front' we're thinking of must be the underside of the hoof? But nopony calls the frog the 'front' of your hoof... do they?

I shake off the strange mental orientation of my hoof. There are so many weird sensations in us right now I don't think I can focus on all of them, and it's probably just a fluke. "Okay, that's interesting. I think it looks like we're a little older than we should be in 1000 A.S.," says my inner me, "but at least it's normal. I was worried this would get even weirder."

This time I can tell I'm wrong, even though I don't know it yet. It did get weirder. "Hold on. I need to figure this hoof thing out, me. I think it's important." I look at my hoof in the mirror and I'm still confused about where the 'front' is. Okay, think hard, Scootaloos. Even though it faces forward, I want to call the front part the back of my hoof, because I call the underside, the palm the front, since it faces outward when I'm using it while standing on two legs. "I have a palm. What's a palm? I should have a frog..." I lean in for a closer look, even though I can see my reflection clearly. The figure in the mirror leans in exactly the same way, so it must be me, but...

I'm not sure what's going on right now, but I'll let myself drive. I'm clearly on to something.

This isn't right at all! Since when does a pegasus filly look like... a little purple dragon? And why am I standing on two legs in the mirror when I'm on four in...

"What's wrong?" I ask us. The pegasus filly in the mirror's mouth doesn't move.

"I think... I'm not... actually me," I say, struggling to put it into words. "Am I me, or is the mirror broken? Like, I know it's cracked. I mean, is it really, truly broken, as in, it doesn't show the same thing you put in front of it..."

"We're Scootaloo, right? I look like Scootaloo to us. Although we were thinking something about balancing on two hooves, and it feels like we are. But I guess I'm on all fours, because that's what I see? Except..." I say, and my voice trails off as I look down at our legs. "No, that's not right. When I look down, I see two legs, so I must be standing up. And they're purple. That's crazy! We must be right; I'm just confused. Maybe I need to relax more and try looking in the mirror later."

I gasp, and I feel blood rush into my face. "No, me! We're not right! Standing up isn't when you're on two hooves! That's rearing. Four on the floor is standing up," I say, but the bipedal fact staring back at me from the mirror disagrees with me. Her... no, his...(?) scaly purple muzzle isn't moving when I talk, so it must be somepony else. But when I lean this way and that, she/he matches my movements like they're copying me just to be funny.

Then I remember his name.

"Spike!" I shout, and I realize that's who this is in the mirror. "Wait, I'm Spike?! The dragon? Twilight's assistant?"

"That's it! Yes! That's what I needed to remember! I'm... I'm Spike... and while I'm not exactly her assistant, I really don't want to think about that right now, for some reason. But I'm seeing Scootaloo in the mirror, not Spike. I mean, I see a pegasus filly that looks the way Scootaloo should look in a couple of years," I tell us. "I guess that settles it. We're obviously crazy and need professional help. We have to go to Ponyville General for a psychiatric evaluation, Spike—Scootaloo—whoever we are."

I'm ready to agree with myself, but watching the dragon in the mirror fascinates me. I think I remember seeing this in the mirror before, which means I should be Spike, but it's far too unfamiliar to be real. When I move my head, Spike moves his head the same way. It's me doing the moving, but when I look down at my hooves, they're still hooves...

This time I'm the one with the idea for an experiment. I don't understand where the idea came from, though. It feels much smarter than me. It's still my idea, isn't it? It doesn't feel like... 'other me' gave it to me. I only get a general sense of what I'm thinking when I'm another me. I think.

Okay, I'm not sure.

"I need to try something," we both say in unison.

I experimentally wave at myself. Spike waves back in an identical motion, or at least it would be if my leg was all weird like his fore—

"It's 'were', not 'was'. Subjunctive mood," I correct my own thoughts. "I think we just thought that, right? When you're speaking, or I guess thinking, in the hypothetical—"

"Stop doing that!" I say, and frown angrily. Spike frowns back, but I notice his mouth doesn't form the words I said. It only moves when I feel more like I'm not the one talking.

"Sorry, sorry. Force of habit from Twilight correcting me," says the Spike in the mirror. "Frowning feels weird and it doesn't match my mood... no, scratch that, it does. I'm feeling angry about being constantly corrected, which makes no sense because I'm the one being pedantic... right?"

"Look, it's fine. We're under stress," I point out, noticing again how the mirror's mouth moves when other-me talks, but when I see me talk, it doesn't. It looks just like I'm Scootaloo talking to Spike through a mirror portal, but it doesn't feel that way. "Spike, is that really you? Are you inside my heart, or something?"

"I think we mean brain," Spike says. No... it's not Spike saying it. It still feels more natural to think of us as a 'me', so maybe we're both saying it, in a way. I need to apologize to ourself, though. "Oh, shoot. Sorry again. I swear I don't mean to nitpick. But yeah, it has to be Spike, even though it makes no sense because I can remember going to the schoolhouse today, and Spike doesn't go there. I mean, I don't go there, I think."

"Right, same feeling here. I want to call you Spike, but I can't. You're just too... 'me' to be a 'you'," I say, then I study his/our face the mirror. "What was the experiment we just did for?"

I think about telling myself to try to avoid ending a sentence with a preposition, stop myself from doing that, then realize I already know what I just thought so it happened implicitly. Fortunately I can tell it's not my fault, so I don't blame me, which is nice. "Did we both decide to wave at the same time? I mean, did you see Spike wave, too? I think I sense you see Spike and I see Scootaloo, right? I saw you wave exactly like I did, except with my... with your pastern."

"Yeah. That was me-me doing it, though, that wasn't you-me. Right?"

The filly in the mirror raises a brow, and I respond. "Are you sure? I'm certain I came up with the idea for the test."

The guy in the mirror has a point, because after a little more thought, we're not so sure after all. Trying to base knowledge off of feelings is very challenging. We suspect this is why I hate feelings. "I guess it makes sense you'd think it up and maybe I got confused. But I was definitely the one who decided to wave like that." Mirrorspike wiggles his forepaw oddly and makes a funny face, because I make me do it. "See what I just did?"

"The weird wiggle and the funny face? I just did that. It was my decision, I'm 100% positive. There's no way we're deciding to do exactly the same mirror-opposite actions at the same time!"

Is that even possible? "But what if we are? We both think we're controlling us-self. Maybe it's just some kind of strange coincidence?" I scrunch my muzzle up out of curiosity, and it looks weird and unnatural to see a little dragon do it.

"Ugh. Not sure why I decided to scrunchface. That feels really weird," I reply, rubbing my face with my claws. "A coincidence of this magnitude is impossible, but I guess all of this is impossible in the first place, so I shouldn't be surprised. What do we think is happening here? Is this some kind of mind-altering magic? That kind of magic is forbidden, for obvious reasons..."

"Um, then we must be dreaming," I suggest. "I mean, I don't know what else this could be. It's just too weird. Even dreams make more sense than this, but I'm out of ideas."

"That makes some sense, but this is way too realistic. We'd be awake by now because we're too lucid and there isn't a dreamwalker with us. I don't think dream-selves can get tangled up like this, either," I say. "We already decided Princess Luna isn't around, and she probably would be by now. If this were a dream, it'd be really obvious in the Dreamtime. Dreams like this immediately catch her attention."

"Do you mind if I open the door?" I both say, as it might be rude but I'm getting unnerved by staring at mynotself. We open it together.

"Weird. It's like we share the same mind when we take an action, or something. We need to see Twilight."

"I don't think we can. This is a memory too, right?" I say, feeling unusually insightful. "I don't think I remember talking to Twilight about this."

"We didn't look in the mirror in the original memory either, though! But that doesn't require much imagination, and anything we get from Twilight would probably just be us making it up as we go," I say. "So these were both memories... Wait! Maybe that's why Spike is here? Twilight sent Spike to Scootaloo somehow?"

"Maybe because I got injured by that snipe thing," I say, and shudder at even the suggestion of the memory. Our head hurts again, and I gently rub it with my hoof.

"That must be it. The venom wouldn't normally put me into a coma, but it's magical in nature. It's supposed to paralyze, not cause pain..." I explain. "Maybe... we had an allergic reaction to it or something. Or maybe where it stung us let it get into the brain? Maybe it wasn't even a snipe that got us, because we didn't see it! We don't know pony anatomy or medicine as well as Twilight, so it's useless to speculate."

I nod. "So, maybe it's like we're asleep, but we're not dreaming?"

"If we were just asleep Twilight would have had Princess Luna help instead, or you'd be resting somewhere and I wouldn't need to be here. So either Luna is dealing with an even bigger emergency, which is why she isn't here right now, or we're not connected to the Dreamtime at all," I said. "This is a pretty bad sign. I could be critically ill right now."

"Not you. You're not sick, I am. I mean, if I'm the Scootaloo and you're the Spike. You know what I mean," I say, though I'm not even sure what we mean. "Maybe all of us are in danger, though. It could be like one of those movies where dying in a dream kills you in real life, or something. I don't want me to risk myself, you, if... if Spike is in danger. Colt, this is so confusing."

"I don't remember anything about this, though. I should remember if I came here to help you. We know one of us was trying to remember that we're Spike, but that's all I can dredge up."

"Hay, can we try what we did before? We should try to remember the last thing Spike can remember." I feel my haunches twitch. "Unless... unless it's like before. I can't do that again. We have to be sure it's safe this time."

We nod slowly to each other. "This is important. I think we need to try, but if there's any trouble, we do everything we can to come back here again. Let's go to the couch first," I say, and we walk there together and sit down.

"Wow. We're doing this, aren't we? Ugh, I hope this doesn't hurt. If you see white fur, you gotta bail out immediately, unless it's Sweetie Belle. Or Rarity. Or Opalescence. Or Prin—"

"We get it, we get it," I say, then close our eyes and focus. "I don't want to be in severe pain either, but we don't think anything like that happened to Spike." I try to sound more certain than we are, but I'm sure I know that I'm bluffing.

"J-just be real careful." I try to hide the fear, but I'm sure I know that I'm bluffing. I keep my eyes closed, and I'm starting to sense it...

I think we remember. "I was summoned... no, teleported directly to the hospital. We both were. I don't mean us, us, I mean Twilight and Spike went together. That's where we are right now." I start to hear talking that isn't us, but it's very faint, and slowly getting louder. I can tell it isn't far away. It's right beside us, but somedraggy has to turn the volume knob up first, which is what I'm trying to do.

"We're getting closer... and I can remember too! I... you... Spike arrived at the ER, and then the Princess was talking to us..."

Comments

[The Iguana Man]

Hmm, things continue to get ever more intriguing. Also, really like the juxtaposition between finally being able to sometimes sort out who's who with the increasing frequency of simultaneous thoughts. Really gives a sense of "making progress but running out of time" that adds nicely to the tension. At least, that's how it seems to me.

[Shadow Glider]

Hay, earlier you said this memory was from 1000 Anno Solequus, and we're pretty sure years have passed since then.

Nice Anno Domini reference

[Scyphi]

I still don't have much more idea of just what the heck is going any more than Spike and Scoots clearly do, but dang if it isn't super interesting to try and puzzle this out along with them.

[Trick Question]

11465872
Nice.

I was actually channeling Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five (which recently also released a graphic novel version, very digestible).