Timed Ramblings

by Midnight herald

Be Still

Pinkie Pie could do almost anything. She knew because years ago, Granny Pie had told her so. And she knew so because she had done so many of them. She could throw a party like nopony’s business. She could decorate the Throne Room in a matter of minutes. She could reset a broken bone, although thankfully that wasn’t needed much. She could pull a smile from the most dejected pony, juggle fifteen kumquats while riding a unicycle, change diapers, write a song for any occasion as she sung it, and even herd elephants, if the situation called for it. The list of things Pinkie could do, even if Twilight wrote it out in her smallest hornwriting, would go on for miles. But Every single one of them was useless right now. Every single thing she knew she could do was pointless, because of one big thing.

Pinkie Pie could never get a heart to start beating again. She knew this because years ago, Granny Pie had showed her so. No bargaining, no Pinkie Sense, no parties or cupcakes could get the blood and life to start flowing again once it stopped like this. Pinkie sighed and gently, reverently, pushed Angel Bunny’s eyelids closed and crossed his tiny forelegs across his chest. It had been a tough few days around Fluttershy’s cottage when he finally gave in and showed signs of being ill. And Pinkie had done what she could to help, because she knew how much Fluttershy loved Angel Bunny, how much she needed Angel Bunny. Pinkie knew how much Fluttershy could hide from everypony else, how she hated to bother their friends with sad news. And Pinkie knew how Fluttershy could never really say no to her, and so had invited herself into the cottage with pony food and comforting hugs and patient, reverent silence.

Years ago, Pinkie might have kicked something or cried at the noble bunny’s final breath. But she knew better now. Kicking and screaming and wailing never did anything in a case like this. She’d learned that when she got thrown out of the hospital, years ago. So instead she stroked her free hoof through Fluttershy’s greasy, unkempt mane and drew Fluttershy’s limp head closer to her chest. In the past 72 hours, Pinke was almost certain Fluttershy hadn’t slept a wink, instead choosing to sit by Angel Bunny’s bedside, catching every moment she could and holding each second in a deathgrip.

And Pinkie had been by every moment that she could, in those three days, but she still had a job, still had responsibility. But the moment she had gotten that terrible, awful set of twitches, the ones no one else knew about, the ones she hated to feel, that she had learned from Granny Pie all those years ago, she ran out the door and through town, straight towards the Everfree. Her right foreleg had lost feeling slowly as Fluttershy’s sleeping head had crushed it two hours ago. She didn’t dare move that leg, not a single twitch, though. Fluttershy needed as much sleep as she could get for now, before grief and hopelessness would rob her of that simple pleasure.

And Pinkie would be by the cottage much more often, to make sure she ate, she got outside, talked to ponies, made her appointments … the things Angel had done. Broken hearts weren’t easy to fix, but it could be done. And Pinkie was going to take care of Fluttershy the best she could. After all, she had a Pinkie Promise to a certain bunny to keep in mind.

Author's Note:

The Prompt: "There are some things Pinkie Pie can't fix."

Comments

[Silvernis]

This is at once sweet and depressing. Very nicely done.

[DarkwingSnark]

Well, there goes my smile. But that's okay, because it was touching just how far Pinkie would go for a friend. Though, knowing the party pony...she probably could defy nature, if she put her mind to it. Making a Frankenstein horde of all her once dead friends.