It's said you can take any point in life and begin a story. It's also said the purpose of any story is what it teaches, and how well it teaches that purpose is the measure by which it's judged. Philosophers and great thinkers may debate the latter point, but most would agree on two things. First, there's no life so dull or inconsequential that a lesson could not be garnered, whether positive or negative. Second, how dark or sorrowed a story may be depends heavily on where the beginning is reckoned.
This story begins in a pub named "Barley's," owned by Barley Brew. It was one of the smaller, more niche locations in Port Bradoon mainly frequented by the town's spectrum of blue-collar working class: freight workers, dock workers, construction workers and others of similar vocation. Simply put, it was a rough spot in an already rough town, a fact evinced by the shoddily repaired furniture, cracked or boarded windows and dubious dark stains that smeared sections of the floor and walls. To accent this brusque atmosphere, wispy columns of smoke coiled up from the denizens' cigars and pipes to disperse into an opaque smog that hovered about the ceiling.
Fortunately, the night was less rowdy than some the pub had experienced. The environment was thick with rumbled conversation and occasional bellowed chortles as patrons, usually saturated with their drink of choice, bantered back and forth over work, tall-tales or coarser subjects unfit for more austere company. An uproarious laugh punched through the general din of discussion and clinking mugs from the back of the establishment, belonging to an appropriately large, black-maned, sawdust earth pony named Sledgehammer. He was sitting in one of the booths with three other earth ponies as company, one of whom he had tucked against his side with a foreleg.
"An' th' board smacked 'im right in the eye! Hahaha! An' ya didn't cry once did ya darlin'?" Sledgehammer leaned his head down and pressed a kiss to Finial's blushing cheek, just under the fading black eye that was the subject of discussion. The dusky-brown colt just chuckled with a wince and gently tried to pull his head away.
"Careful there, it's still kinda tender... You'd think being an engineer I'd not be so clumsy."
"Sorry darlin'! I'll get'cha an ice pack whin we get home."
Chuckling across from them were Writ and Locket Ledger - older blue ponies who looked almost as much siblings as spouses. Sledgehammer and Finial both worked in the construction field: Sledgehammer with demolition, and Finial with architecture. The Ledgers were their current employers and, while technically members of the upper class, were too gregarious by virtue of nature or perhaps frequent association to care for social divisions. They probably hadn't even flinched when Sledgehammer invited them to the local drinking joint.
Locket, being the more vocal of the pair, was the first to pipe up. "Oh Fin, you look absolutely adorable next to Sledge!" The mare leaned over the table and shook a hoof at him jokingly, "Don't you ever let go of your stallion! Why, I have trouble just getting Writ out of bed in the mornings, let alone getting him to coddle me like that!"
Writ blustered through his white mustache in mock indignation. "Why I beg your pardon! I'm quite prompt in the mornings Mrs. Ledger! I resent that remark!"
Undaunted and brimming with mischievous glee, Locket just leaned closer and stage whispered over the pub's background babble, "And you should hear the way he snores! Sometimes I can't get a wink of sleep for all the racket he makes!"
"Now really Locket! That's quite enough!" Writ's tone was still mostly blithe and coltish, but only the unobservant could have missed the blush that streaked over his puffy cheeks. Finial laughed a little and brushed back a chocolate-colored forelock.
"It's alright Mr. Ledger. We all have our shortcomings. Even Sledge can crank out some pretty hefty snores. Sometimes it feels like I'm sleeping next to a trai-ooph!" A quick poke to the belly interrupted Finial's placative tease.
"Now Finnie darlin', don't make me tell th' nice folks just how long y'all take in th' shower."
Locket giggled and leaned against Writ's side. "Oh look at what we started. Don't you two worry now. You've got it good and so long as you stick together, you'll pull through anything just fine! Fin, you don't know how rare it is for a horse like Sledge to fall into your lap!"
"Technically I kinda fell into his," he replied with a soft grin. "I met him during my first project here in Bradoon. I was walking along trying to read a set of blueprints and blundered into the lunch table - and into Sledge. From then on he was all charm and flowers and... well, eventually he offered to let me live with him. That's when things started changing for me." He nickered and leaned his head to rest on Sledgehammer, who chuckled and squeezed him lovingly.
"An' he's been a dandy partner too. Real precious to me. How 'bout y'all?"
"Nothing quite so romantic, I'm afraid." Writ chuckled and sipped at his brew for a moment, wiped his mouth with a swish of his mustache and then continued. "Locket and I met at a business conference in Canterlot. We had seats next to each other on the airship leaving, got to talking and everything just fell into place from there." Locket kissed her husband's cheek and smiled back at the other two.
"But as you can see, we turned out just fine. We've been together for... oh my goodness, 23 years! Just goes to show you don't have to start romantic to be romantic."
Finial nodded a few times in agreement. "Or the reverse."
"What's that dear?"
"Hm?" It took Finial a few seconds to register what Locket was asking. "Oh - sorry Mrs. Ledger, I was just musing is all. Hehe, don't mind me."
Finial retreated from the conversation and leaned closer against Sledgehammer, letting everything tune out for a few moments. He could hear the others talking and the noise of the pub, but as his mind drifted further it all melted into one meaningless stream of sound. It'd been five years since he met Sledgehammer. Five years. He couldn't help but wonder what life would be like ten, twenty or thirty years ahead. How much different - or the same - would things be? That first day with Sledgehammer had left him glowing. A charismatic, ruggedly handsome stallion picks you up off your hooves and treats you like a prince - who wouldn't be ecstatic? Was Locket's life anything like his? Did she hide things?
A quick jostle from Sledgehammer rattled Finial out of his reverie, and he realized he'd missed more of the conversation than he'd intended. Locket was looking over at him with a curious concern on her face.
"You alright there honey-dear? You just drifted off into your own little world there..."
"Oh! Yeah, I'm sorry." Finial laughed and shook his head a bit, plastering on a smile. "I'm just a bit tired is all. It was a long day at work."
His statement was met with surprised looks and raised brows from all three.
"Honey-dear, today was your day off..."
He'd made a mistake.
"Work at home! Sorry, haha! I usually have a lot of paperwork that needs doing off-site. See what I mean about being tired?"
Sledgehammer squeezed him again and smiled at the Ledgers, giving a nod of agreement. "Finnie here's been workin' 'imself to th' bone on all'a that. What say we get another round'a drinks to liven things up? Maybe give my darlin' here a boost. 'Ey Barley!"
Finial's placid smile flashed a brief look of concern when he heard this, and immediately tried to casually pull down Sledgehammer's beckoning foreleg. "Sledge... Sledge... let's not get any more drinks tonight, please. I don't need any, I'm just tired. Please, let's not get more drinks tonight..."
Sledgehammer paused, his foreleg compliantly sinking back down as he turned to study Finial's face for a moment, then nodded. "A'ight. If your tired maybe we should head on home? I'll get ya that ice pack and tuck ya into bed."
Hearing this made Finial's smile a little less strained, and he replied with a few embarrassed nods. "Yeah, yeah I'd like that. Sleep will do me good." Then he remembered their company. "Uh... you all don't mind do you? I'm sorry..."
Writ and Locket, who'd been passively observing, just shook their heads with encouraging smiles.
"Don't you worry honey-dear!" Locket soothed, reaching over and patting his foreleg sympathetically, "You go home and cuddle up to that stallion of yours, and get some sleep! I don't know what hours they have you working at that place but goodness knows I can tell you need it! If you need to shave off some time you take it! And if anyone complains, just send the complainers right to me!" While the comment exposed how unaware Locket was of the construction work mindset, Finial smiled gratefully anyway. The offer was still generous and considerate.
"Thanks, I appreciate it. I hope we can have another night like this soon!"
Sledgehammer left bits enough to cover the party's tab and scooted out of the booth, soon followed by Finial. After being sent off with a few more farewells and waves, the stallions weaved their way through the pub toward the exit, dodging various drunken gesticulations, rushing waiters and hobbling patrons.
The moment the pub's door closed behind them, everything changed. It was dark, as the sun had already set several hours ago. The previously ear-filling sound had been muted to a bare murmur. It was cool and quiet. Very quiet. Neither Sledgehammer nor Finial moved for several long moments, both staring straight ahead at the street with flat expressions, though Sledgehammer's had a more definite glint to it. There would be no ice pack, no tucking in, no sleep and certainly no cuddling. Sledgehammer's voice dropped through the air like lead - a single, forceful command.
"Let's go."
The walk home wasn't a long one. The pub itself was merely blocks from Wine Street where their apartment was. Just the same, Finial found himself grateful for every tiny delay that slowed them down: a carriage that had to be walked around, a puddle of slick to avoid, the gate that had to be unlocked. When they reached the door of the building, his senses pressed him to turn and run, but he couldn't. His body was too well-trained. Almost as if programmed, the moment Sledgehammer opened the door for him, he stepped through, feeling rather than seeing his coltfriend follow him inside.
Up the first flight of stairs, then the next. His pace was even and steady. He didn't dare show reluctance. Any faltering would earn him a shove from behind, from past experience. Then came the final door, the one to the apartment. Not a word had been spoken since they left the porch of the pub, and none were spoken now.
"Oh Fin, Sledge! How are you two this evening?" An elderly pink mare several doors down, waved at them while trying to balance a bag of groceries and her key. Finial's smile immediately jumped back to his face.
"Mrs. Puff! We just got back from some time at the pub. Here, do you need help with that?"
He started to walk toward her only to thump into Sledgehammer's iron-like foreleg.
"Don'cha worry about it darlin'; I'll help 'er. You jus' go on inside, okay?"
"Alright..."
Sledgehammer made his way down the hall toward Mrs. Puff and started up a friendly conversation as Finial turned the key that'd been left in the lock. For some reason, he almost resented how easily the door opened, but he walked in nonetheless and shut it again behind him. Now he was quivering, and he only had a short time to prepare. The colt ran though the apartment and turned on every light in their relatively small suite. Every single one. When he got back to the den, he positioned himself next to the sofa that sat in the middle of the room. It gave him plenty of leeway to move around in. He knew this part by heart. Only seconds later, Sledgehammer's shadow broke through the thin line of light that seeped underneath the thick door, followed by the usual click and scruff of it rubbing over the rug. He walked in casually enough, and then the door closed.
"What was that?What was that!?" The air pumping in and out of Sledgehammer's lungs held all the savage thunder of an angry bull, and in this instance there wasn't much difference between the two. Finial automatically began backing away even though he was already two rooms apart, and Sledgehammer stormed through the kitchen to the edge of the den, reducing that number to one. "'You'd think being an engineer I'd not be so clumsy!' 'That's when things started changing for me!' 'Or the reverse!' What was that!? Dropping hints?"
"I'm.. I'm sorry Sledge, I just-"
"You just what? Was that some kinda code? Code to try an' tell'm I taught your sorry hide a lesson?"
"No... No Sledge really. It was all just a mistake. And... and if they'd asked I would've told them it was an accident, you didn't do it on pu-'
"You'da told'm no such thing! You got hit with a board and that's that! You want'm to come drag me off? Leavin' you all alone? Huh?And then! Ya go trailin' off in la la land and tellin' that ya were tired cause'a work ya didn't have! You're lucky I don't give ya a matchin' eye for the other."
Finial pressed his shaking frame against the side of the couch, his legs already tensing up in case he needed to move, but much to his surprise and relief, Sledgehammer turned away and stomped to the fridge, jerking the door open with such force that the whole appliance shuddered. Finial closed his eyes and let out a sigh, thanking whatever fates existed. It hadn't gone as badly as he'd feared, but the night wasn't over yet. At that moment, he was simply grateful he'd managed to convince Sledgehammer to leave the pub without drink-
"Where're my beers!?"
A violent cold seized the brown colt's heart in his chest. This was a very bad time for Sledgehammer to find that. A very bad time.
"I said,where are my beers?!"
The air suddenly felt like a million needles piercing his skin as Finial looked up to see Sledgehammer glowering down at him from over the counter. It would be bad to tell him, but worse to stay silent, and even worse to answer him with no means of retreat. Immediately he stood up and started rushing his way to the front door, blurting out his explanation in the slim hope of placating his coltfriend before he could react. "I-I'm s-ssorry Sledge! Th-the neighbor asked for some and I figured y~Aaauuh!"
There was an odd smacking sound as Sledgehammer caught him around the middle and spun him around so hard his hooves slid over the kitchen tiles like skates. There was only a moment before Finial's peripheral vision registered the hoof coming for his face and jerked his head back a split second too late. It didn't hit his face, but it connected with his jaw and snapped his head to the side. He didn't yelp, or cry. He couldn't cry or it would be worse. He knew, as he felt the hot, sticky blood trailing down his lip, he'd have another story to tell. Another accident.
"I'm'n sssoryr.. I'm sorry Sledge... I'll-I'll...I'll get s-s-some'mre... some more...Please..."
A blast of hot, angry, alcohol-drenched breath blew over his face as Sledgehammer leaned in, those furious brown eyes glowing like hellfire in the pale kitchen light. "I told ya before. Them freaks come askin' for beer you tell'm to go buy their own booze! But you do not. touch. my. Beer!" Sledgehammer bit down on Finial's scruff and practically lifted him off the floor by the mane, dragged him to the front door and slammed him against the wall for good measure. "Now you go down an' get that beer, or buy some or steal some, an' don't you dare come back through that door 'less ya have it or I'll skin yer hide."
"I'll... I'll... I'll get i-"
"Get out!"
Blind, desperate gropes against the door slid uselessly to the floor, till finally one landed Finial's hoof on the doorknob. He pulled down as fast as he could and yanked the door open. Whether Sledgehammer had pushed him or if he'd tripped he wasn't sure, but either way he fell through the doorway and slammed into the metal railing that circled the stairwell across from it. For a few split seconds he regretted the railing existed, his imagination playing out a merciful scene of him falling down the stairs to break his neck. Would Sledgehammer feel any regret if he did? Almost as if in answer, his train of thought was interrupted by the heavy slam of the door behind him. For now, he was safe.
Sledgehammer was afraid of the public. As long as Finial was outside that door, he was safe. Somehow, it held a terrible irony. One would be hard-pressed to find a town more unsympathetic than Bradoon. When ponies heard screams and yells, they walked the other way. When they heard fighting or struggles near their homes, they turned on the water, closed their doors, closed their windows or anything that avoided involvement in 'other ponies' business.' Sledgehammer was afraid of the public, but the public was more afraid of him.
With an agonized lethargy, the colt dragged himself into a sitting position on the steps to collect himself. He still couldn't cry. Oh, he wanted to with all his heart, but he couldn't. When he met Sledgehammer, everything had been wonderful. Even after he initially moved in things had been... good. He remembered loving smiles, long nights of love and tenderness and it all seemed genuine, for a while. Somewhere things changed. Sledgehammer became more, and more resentful. There were times Finial felt like he was an irritant just by existing. His attempts at affection were rebuffed. Sledgehammer stopped smiling, and the public smiles had a hollow quality that no one else seemed to sense. Sometimes, Finial wondered if the hollowness had always been there and he simply hadn't seen it.
Was everyone's life like this? Did Writ get angry at Locket? Or... had Finial simply done something so terrible, or become so revolting somehow, that Sledgehammer just didn't want him? He'd tried to talk to him about it, and sometimes Sledgehammer had promised he'd try to be more sensitive, but things just got worse. And Finial had lied. No neighbor had asked for beer. He'd thrown it away to keep Sledgehammer from getting drunk. Things got... worse when he was drunk. It'd worked before and only a few times had he caught flack, but never had it backfired so badly.
The rest of his night was already laid out in his mind. He was accustomed to this routine. He'd go to the liquor store, buy more beer, wait till Sledgehammer was asleep, go home again, clean up any mess his coltfriend had made and crawl into bed. At one point he used to sleep on the couch, or outside the bedroom door, but he'd discovered Sledgehammer was quicker to forgive when given a little carnal compensation in the mornings. It was probably the only time they were affectionate anymore - well, the only time Sledgehammer would allow him to be affectionate. It wasn't exactly reciprocated.
"Hey..."
Finial jumped in alarm and reflexively slammed himself against the wall. It was only after a few seconds he realized that his "assailant" was simply staring at him with a confused expression, and wasn't Sledgehammer.
He was a pegasus with a cloudy gray coat, contrasted by light blond hair and a golden eye - his right eye was covered by a black patch. Despite being a pegasus, he was on par with some of the freight pegasi that handled heavy cargo at the docks, who almost reached the size and stature of Sledgehammer. His cutie mark seemed entirely unrelated to any such work though. What was it - bubbles? Finial's observations were interrupted when the pegasus took a very slow, careful step toward him.
"Hey... are... you okay?"
It was then Finial noticed the stallion's voice was a tad slower than usual, and slightly mushed. Was he drunk? It didn't matter. That wasn't the thing to be thinking about.
"Sorry - you just... just scared me, that's all. Uh... Hi. Are you new here?"
The pegasus shrugged once, then nodded. "Yeah... I guess. Are you okay? You're... bleeding."
Story time. Finial slipped immediately into acting mode and put on his usual tired smile, pulling himself away from the wall with a reassuring nod.
"Yeah... yeah I'm fine. I just tripped on the way out and hit my mouth on the railing."
"And... the yelling?"
Questions. Questions were bad. Why did he keep asking questions?
"Oh that! Yeah, the neighbors can be really noisy this time of night. No idea what's going on with them."
The two of them exchanged stares, Finial smiling, and the pegasus just simply watching. Belatedly, Finial realized he didn't know when, where or how much this stallion had observed, and usually ponies weren't so nosy. Maybe admitting just a little was a better strategy in this case. The social game wasn't playing out as it normally did, and the more this persisted the more his emotions began to strain the seams of his false composure. Inside he wanted to burst.
"Me and my coltfriend did have a small argument. It was totally my fault and I can take care of it. Nothing big. You know how it is - just silly couple stuff."
The stallion nodded and looked to the side for a little while, seeming to process this information. By now Finial had concluded that he was definitely a bit... simple, and a strong unease began to infect in his mind with an almost instinctual aversion. It was fear. 'Normal' ponies minded their own business, constrained to predictability and restrained from interference by rules of social etiquette. Finial could deal with normal ponies. He didn't hate impaired ponies but, for him, this pegasus posed a threat. He didn't know what to expect, and the unexpected frightened him. He was scuffing his hooves on the rug, mentally preparing an excuse for escape when the stallion turned back to him.
"And... your eye?"
Too many questions.
"Look, I'm sure you're a nice guy, and I appreciate your concern and whatever it is you're doing but... please just..." Finial paused, trying to scramble together words to complete his thought. Courtesy could be forgone. He was running out of reasons, and thinking of more reasons just tore him apart as something inside struggled against them, a suffocated truth fighting for breath. He couldn't let himself cry, and crying would just bring more questions. Rudeness was necessary. "Just leave me alone! I mean just... let me live my life, and I'll let you live yours. Okay? Mind your own business."
There was no waiting for a response. Finial made a beeline for the gap between the pegasus and the railing, aiming to barrel past him to the stairwell, but with surprising quickness and purpose the pegasus stepped forward and blocked him off. Finial automatically looked up to start chewing out the impertinent stallion, but when their gaze met he was stricken.
The unpatched eye was filled with nothing but an innocent, honest concern, as though it saw right through everything he was putting up. Not that it would have been very hard for anyone who cared to pay attention. This stallion cared, and it was so blatantly obvious it was all Finial could do to keep his face frozen in its mask. He could already feel the wetness welling in his eyes, threatening to coalesce into tell-tale tears. He wasn't sure how long they held their stare-down, but finally the pegasus relented and just offered Finial a hoofshake.
"My name... is Klutzy Hooves... but... you can call me Klutz."
It was almost like a moment of truth, in some strange way. There was the gray hoof, held out in a general show of cordiality, and yet for some reason it felt like something else. A signal. An opportunity. Something Finial couldn't quite single out. It was an offer of something genuinely kind - no matter how small - unfiltered by lies or the vindictive scrutiny of Sledgehammer. Very hesitantly, Finial took the stallion's hoof in his and shook it.
"Finial... Finial, here but well, yeah... just 'Fin' is fine."
For a moment, Finial smiled. It was probably one of the first genuine smiles he'd given in at least four years, and Klutz smiled back. But the moment ended there.
"Sorry Klutz, but I need to go. Thanks, though. Thanks..."
Finial pressed his way past the pegasus and down the stairs, half-expecting to be blocked again. Klutz didn't stop him this time, however, and he reached the front door of the building unimpeded. Mixed feelings wrapped around his heart as he pushed his way through the door and out onto the street. All he had done was shake the stallion's hoof, and yet somehow he felt as though he'd given a full-blown confession. Sledgehammer would have been furious if he'd seen, but he didn't have to know. After all, they had only greeted.
Finial had returned to find everything generally intact. The sofa had been pushed over and his coltfriend was slumped over it snoring, but aside from a few baubles knocked off the coffee table, everything else seemed in order. Sledgehammer didn't even fuss when he was roused to a drowsy wakefulness and ushered to bed. As predicted, the "morning affections" served to stave off any continuation of the previous night's mood, and the rest of the morning went normally. That is to say, wordlessly, blandly and without major event. Sledgehammer's moods usually waited till evening to crawl out of their lairs.
Work, likewise, went by smoothly. When asked about his lip, Finial reported that he'd tripped and hit his face on a railing, just as he'd told Klutz, with the exception that the responses were neither suspicious nor prying. He was always answered with polite, unquestioning acceptance and maybe a tease or two about his clumsiness. And of course, Sledgehammer backed up his story and embellished it for the entertainment of their coworkers, weaving it into the charmingly comic tales he was so good at.
Finial kept pausing to watch Sledgehammer. None of this was new; it had happened before and he had every reason to believe it would continue. It was... normal. Finial knew his situation was "bad" but somewhere, he had grown used to it. And yet, something had stirred in him. Even if it wasn't new, it felt oddly different, and wrong. Perhaps being given genuine kindness by a random stranger had planted a seed of thought.
Sledgehammer laughed and joked with the other ponies, flashing that winning smile every now and then - his behavior was almost flirtatious. When he caught Finial looking, Sledgehammer simply grinned and waved, or put on a playfully seductive pose. While Finial played along, as he always did, he knew that the shows were more for the benefit of those watching than for him, if they were for him at all.
Was this what Sledgehammer was really like, or was this an act? Was he happy or was he still filled with rage? It seemed impossible that someone could put on a front so convincingly natural and carefree, only to peel it away and reveal an anger ready to lash out at the slightest provocation. From the way he acted with other ponies, it was obvious that he had... other interests. Did Sledgehammer want him anymore? Did Sledgehammer even love him? Did he feel trapped? The more he thought about it, the more convinced Finial became of a course of action, something that would perhaps make them both happy, and he would act on it tonight. In the meantime, he had to work.
Once he had committed himself to his objective, things went by much more quickly. He was finally able to concentrate. He was able to make good progress - better progress than he'd been able to in weeks, or perhaps months. He even caught himself smiling a little. At least, smiles that weren't his usual plastered response.
Sledgehammer's shift ended two hours before his, and after his own shift Finial had reports to turn in at the Building Standard's office. These two things combined gave him both opportunity and excuse to take his time planning out the evening. Normally, once his work was completed, Finial would hurry back to the apartment for fear of setting off Sledgehammer by being late. The times work obligations afforded him freedom and Sledgehammer didn't feel like insisting on waiting around to accompany him were fairly rare. So, that day, he let himself walk a little slower, relishing the time to himself.
He was about halfway to the Building Standard's office when he heard it: a heavy flapping of wings, and an even heavier thump as someone landed behind him. He didn't have to wait long to find out who it was, either.
"Hey..."
"Wh-... Klutz!?" Finial halted in his tracks and spun around, looking surprised, worried, and disgruntled all at once. He wasn't quite sure why the presence of Klutz put him off so much, except for the vague fear that he'd start asking questions again. But, maybe that was a bit unfair of him. "Err... hey. ...what are you doing here?"
Klutz grinned a bit, looking happy as pie. "Flying... or... well, walking..."
Was that a joke? Was he serious? Finial shook his head a few times. "No no, I mean why are you here? Around me?"
"Well... I saw you and... I wanted to say hey..."
That wasn't so bad, necessarily. Finial smiled slightly, if awkwardly, and gave him a small greeting wave. "Okay, well... hi I guess... How are you?" It wasn't the most eloquent conversation-starter, but it didn't seem like that'd be something Klutz would rate him on. Klutz just smiled more and seemed to relax a little, taking more time to piece together his sentences.
"I'm doing well... I was happy to see you... How are you feeling?"
Finial smiled a little more and cleared his throat before answering, as if preparing a speech. "I'm doing alright I guess. It's nice to see you too. I'm just on my way to turn in some work before heading home."
The stallion's eye lit up as it spotted opportunity. "Oh! Can I... come with you? I'd like to..."
At the mention of "Can I come," uneasiness began setting in again. Not the same aversion he'd felt before, but an awkwardness born out of concern for appearances, and he couldn't help but glance around them once or twice to see who, if anyone, was watching. Finial cast Klutz a look askance. "Um... thanks Klutz but... I really shouldn't even be talking to you right now. I don't think it'd be a good idea. Why would you want to anyway?"
For a moment, Klutz looked almost guilty, his posture and smile sagging. Apparently he had picked up Finial's lack of mutual enthusiasm. "Well... I like you..."
Klutz liked him? Several moments passed with Finial staring at Klutz wide-eyed and slack-jawed as urgency began to inspire a mild panic. This was very bad. "No. You cannot like me. And no, you can't come with me!"
"Not... as a friend? Can... I like a friend? And... please let me come... You need to smile..."
Finial couldn't help but feel some guilt and embarrassment at his presumption of what Klutz meant by "like." Nonetheless, while it wasn't as bad as Finial first thought, it was still too precarious to risk. It just wasn't safe to have male friends, especially not when Sledgehammer wasn't around. He knew Sledgehammer would get suspicious and immediately assume the worst - maybe that had been why Finial jumped to that conclusion himself. He began walking backward down the sidewalk trying to put distance between himself and Klutz, which Klutz just kept closing by following along.
"Klutz, I just introduced myself. That doesn't mean we're friends. And I smile plenty!"
For every step he took, Klutz took two, and as the large pegasus had long legs anyway, it didn't take him much to catch up. "It's... how you make friends.. and you need one..." His voice was earnest, as was his face, and for a moment Finial stopped and let himself stare into it longingly. It was frightening to have someone care about him like that. Terribly frightening. But it was also terribly comforting. Suddenly, Klutz brought his hoof up and pressed it gently to Finial's cheek. "...and you don't smile... not truly."
Once again, Finial found himself frozen in place for a few seconds, both out of fear and confusion. The situation was becoming more and more compromising. His peripheral vision told him that other ponies on the street were beginning to stare at them. That was always bad news, and no news traveled faster than bad news in Bradoon. He had to put a stop to this. Finial shoved Klutz's hoof away and glared as resolutely as possible into that unblinking, unwavering, unmalicious one-eyed stare.
"Look. I am not your friend. You are creeping me out. I have plenty of friends and I smile when I want to. And you are not making me smile now. You wanna be my friend? Then don't be. Leave me alone!"
The guilt was almost unbearable at that point. It was like kicking a big, gray, winged, hooved and in all other ways pony, puppy. Repeatedly. Finial spun away at the first opportunity and started to rush off, only to slam directly into a lamppost.
"-OW!" He cringed and slapped a hoof up to rub his head, inadvertently hitting his black eye." Augh!... Aaauh-hawhaw... L-look. Just... just go!"
He couldn't tell where Klutz was at that point, so he just started running the direction he needed to. Truly running. The last thing he wanted was some well-meaning crusader who didn't have the sense to leave him alone or ignore things like everyone else raising suspicions and making his life harder than it was.
One block, two blocks, three...
Finally he stuttered to a halt at an intersection, panting and huffing heavily. He couldn't have run further even if he'd wanted to, and this was the street with the Building Standards office anyway. It was time to just finish this and go home. He turned to check his saddlebags for the papers: gone. A frustrated, angered despair ripped through him.
In his rush, the flaps had come loose and all of the blueprints and building permits had fallen out. He turned to look up the sidewalk from where he'd come, but there was no sign of them. And it was all because of that stupid pegasus. No sooner had that thought entered his mind when he heard those familiar, heavy wing beats behind him again. He had not time, patience or emotional fortitude for this.
"Klutz! I told you to L-" Finial almost swallowed his tongue when he whipped around. Klutz sat on the pavement with the papers - perhaps a bit crumpled - hanging out of his mouth expectantly. His gaze was as innocent and earnest as ever. It took Finial a few seconds to gather his wits, but once he had he snatched the papers away and plopped them on the ground to sort through them, checking to be sure all were accounted for.
"I've been waching you... all day..."
This time, Finial didn't even look up. He was too upset. He just kept sorting through the papers with determined concentration. "Great. I have a stalker now. Just what I always wanted. Don't let my coltfriend catch you or you'll find yourself stuffed in a gutter." He slapped a hoof on the ground and looked up at Klutz pointedly for a moment. "Trust me."
Klutz's voice suddenly became uncharacteristically clear and pronounced, though slower, as he struggled through the sentence with especial effort.
"I'm slow... and I know it.. but I'm not dumb... You don't have friends, there... and you need one. Your smiles... aren't real... If you didn't need a friend... you wouldn't... fight having one... s-so much... I want to help you... stop hurting... I can see you hurt."
Finial stopped sorting through the papers and simply stared at them. The anger had drained from his face, and before he even realized it, two rebellious tears broke past his carefully guarded mask and splattered over the blueprints. He couldn't be seen like this. Why couldn't that dope leave him alone!?
"STOP!Stop! Look. Okay? You're right. My life isn't happy. And you're making it worse. Don't hurt me like this! I can manage like I always have. I'm going to walk in there..." he paused and stuck a hoof out at the building across the street, "turn these in, and when I come out I want you gone. Do not say 'hey,' do not stalk me, and do not-..." He halted, having to swallow to keep his reaction under control. "Do not tell anyone... about this. Any of this. Go home." The colt scuffled his papers into a disorganized heap and shoved them into his saddlebag again. The secretary at the desk would just have to deal with it today.
"Go. Home."
Finial pointed at Klutz to emphasize his reiteration, then marched off across the street. He didn't look back to see if Klutz actually left, but instead focused on keeping his head high, his eyes clear and his hooves walking normally. Hopefully his moment of weakness hadn't left tear-stains on his face. Nevertheless, as he approached the glass door, his eyes scanned the reflection for the big pegasus, and found nothing.
As he pushed through the door into the office, Finial realized it was one of the most bittersweet moments he'd ever experienced, and probably ever would. Someone had offered him friendship, and he had chased the friendship away. Half of him wanted the pegasus to be there and half just wanted to be left alone, to deal with things by himself. At least, on his own, he knew what to expect of Sledgehammer come rain or shine. The unexpected still frightened Finial. Besides, he had a plan to make Sledgehammer happy. He didn't need help. Help only made things... bad.
"Hey..."
"Klutz, I-... oh" Finial's rebuke cut off as he snapped back to reality. He was still in the office in front of the desk, and it was the secretary who'd greeted him. She didn't even sound like Klutz, and he'd managed to both shock and insult her in one word. "S-sorry, just had a long day. Kinda zoned out there. Um... I'm here to turn in these permits and blueprints?" With a tremor of flushed anxiety, he pulled back the flap of his saddlebag and tugged out the semi-wadded "stack" of papers, flopping them on the desk before the bespectacled glower of the secretary. "Sorry about their condition. I had a bit of a mix-up with them on the way from the construction site."
Though dubious, the mare was generally compliant and grabbed the pages with a belabored sigh. After searching her desk for open real-estate, she ended up tossing them on an already high and even less organized heap of similar documents. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it." Her tone was flat and disinterested, other than the bit of sarcasm at the beginning. For a moment, they just stared at each other, expectantly waiting. The secretary was chewing some kind of raspberry gum which doubled as a room-freshener. Finial was just staring.
"Your friend is waiting for you, and I don't need anything else."
"My fr-" Finial turned to see Klutz peering through the large front windows with his one eye, and immediately flumped his head onto the counter. "Good grief. That's not 'my friend.'"
Suddenly, the secretary seemed very sympathetic, apparently having forgotten the crumpled forms she would need to sort through. "Oh... Do you want me to call the guard? 'Cause, that's kinda creepy."
Though it took him a minute, Finial finally lifted his head and shook it. "No, that's not necessary. I can deal with it. Thanks for the offer though."
"No problem hun. See ya!"
Taking that as an indication of dismissal, Finial trudged back out of the office onto the sidewalk and stared at the street. He could feel Klutz's expectant gaze resting on him, and his mind, or rather his heart, started rationalizing. What could it honestly hurt? Klutz was... simple. That was a good enough defense, so long as Klutz and Sledgehammer never actually met. He just wanted to be friends. Sledgehammer didn't have any good reason to be threatened by a simple.
"Al-... alright.But! You-" He stopped. He wanted to set some kind of limit, some precautionary safety, but his mind was drawing a blank. "Just... alright."
He looked up, half-guessing he'd see a huge puppy-like grin, complete with wagging tail and tongue hanging out, but he didn't. Instead, Klutz was sitting there placidly.
"Can... I walk you home?"
A cold wall washed over Finial's body as an icy fear seized his chest. No! That was beyond risky - it was dangerous! Thoughts of demonic fury and unheard pleas wrestled themselves out of his past and into his future. No, he had already gone beyond the safety line! He should run!
His heart was pounding when he suddenly came back to his surroundings. Maybe it was the contrast of the distant town ambiance to the shouts echoing in his mind, or the look of concern written on Klutz's face. Gradually though, the wave of paranoia passed and his mind became more settled as reason began to kick in again. He had come this far and accepted friendship, and justified it with a defense.
He hated being alone. He was scared... but he was also tired. Tired of resisting, and tired of worrying what hell might come at the end of the day. Sledgehammer couldn't begrudge him for befriending someone who was no threat, who was a neighbor no less - or would that make things worse? At that point, he didn't even want to think about it. He'd made up his mind.
"Fine. Yes, alright..."
Klutz nodded and stood up beside him, ready to accompany. Finial's stomach was still tying itself in knots, but once the words were out of his mouth, he actually started to feel a little better, and the nervousness was slowly inching away. One friend couldn't hurt. Just one friend. One... true friend...
Without saying anything else, he just started walking back up the street, sighing a bit as he focused on the late afternoon sun warming his back, and putting one hoof in front of the other.
"You're still worried..."
Finial smirked slightly despite himself. Most ponies wouldn't have seen that, but it still seemed like stating the obvious. No kidding, right? "You see a lot with that one eye of yours, Klutz."
"I see... what I need to."
The more he talked with this pony, the more Finial found himself surprised, but at least he'd become accustomed to it enough to keep walking instead of pausing every time Klutz said something thoughtful or profound. He started feeling guilty over some of the thoughts he'd had about him before.
"Yeah... yeah, I'm a little worried, but everyone does about one thing or another."
There was a pause as Klutz thought about this. Once again, his responses were slower and more thought out. "You watched him... a lot... do you love him?"
Now things were getting a little too personal.
"Of course I-... wait. Love who?"
"Your... coltfriend." Klutz turned and perked his ears toward Finial, as if recording everything he did as a response. It was safe enough to answer, at least.
"Yes, I do. I love him a lot. Or... I-" Finial stopped. Something reared inside of him: a fear, and a doubt. He didn't really want to think that far. He didn't want Klutz to think that far either, and immediately searched for a question of his own to try and pre-empt any Klutz might ask. He was afraid the next logical question would be one he couldn't answer. "Say Klutz, how'd you lose your eye?"
"Lose it?"
At first, Finial wasn't sure Klutz wouldn't just go ahead and pursue the question anyway, but it seemed he'd either taken the bait, or decided it wasn't necessary to pursue. Either way, Finial was relieved when Klutz followed the offered rabbit trail.
"I didn't lose it... this just... keeps me from being clumsy." Klutz stopped walking for a moment and reached up to lift the eye patch, revealing a perfectly healthy, even if erroneously pointed, eye. "Blocking it makes it easier... to see." He let the eye patch down and patiently returned Finial's stare, who quickly broke it off after a moment's embarrassment.
"Oh. I'm sorry, I just kind of assumed-... you know."
"It's okay... all ponies do... Ponies... assume a lot of things..."
Now Finial was truly curious, and glanced over at Klutz questioningly. "What do you mean?"
Klutz smiled and shrugged a bit as he walked. "It's... hard for me to talk quickly. I... sound more stupid... when I rush. When I have time... I do alright, but... the world moves fast... faster than me... and so many assume... I'm just dumb."
That statement stung Finial a bit, and he knew it probably showed. He'd been one of those presumptuous ponies. He'd assumed there'd been nothing more to Klutz than a dunderheaded innocence. He'd assumed that Klutz was shallow and... on the emotional or mental maturity of a foal. Something to be condescended. And just now, he was realizing that wasn't quite true.
"Did you... want to keep walking?"
"Right! Yeah..." Finial cleared his throat and shook his head, resuming his walk at a slightly faster clip due to his embarrassment, with Klutz easily keeping pace beside him. "I'm sorry Klutz. You know, if I ever... offended you, or treated you badly."
This actually brought a smile to the stallion's face, though Finial wasn't sure why. Klutz just shook his head as he kept his gaze mostly forward, only occasionally glancing at the smaller colt.
"I was never offended... there's... there's more important things..."
Finial almost asked, "Like what?" But he didn't. Part of him was afraid of being shown up for all of his assumptions again. Another part of him, judging from the stallion's persistence thusfar, figured he already knew. This pegasus was as unselfish as they came. Finial didn't say anything after that point, and neither did Klutz. Every time he looked over at the pegasus, he was just staring ahead, walking with an easy, peaceful gait.
Eventually Finial stopped looking, but somehow the presence of the pegasus was making him feel calmer, and less concerned with just about everything. The world really was a more beautiful, less frightening place with a friend at his side. Suddenly, he realized his aversion to Klutz had entirely vanished. Finial still didn't always know what to expect from Klutz, but he was beginning to believe he could trust him.
After a while, they reached the apartment building. In fact, Klutz had to hold out his foreleg and bring Finial to bewildered a stop. The sun was beginning to set, and he knew Sledgehammer would be getting antsy with him gone so long. Somehow, though, that didn't worry him as much as it might have normally. He knew he should be worried, but... it was worth it.
"Have a good night...Fin."
"You too, Klutz." He started making his way up to the door, but something tugged at his heart. Something needed to be said. "Klutz?"
The pegasus was still standing there, just watching him go inside. "Mhmm?"
"Thank you. Thank you for being my friend."
There was a pause, but when Klutz's voice responded, it was strong and clear again.
"You're welcome."
* * * * * * *
When Finial reached the apartment, he didn't find Sledgehammer upset. In fact he seemed to be his normal, wordless morning-self. Nothing was said, nothing was asked. Finial just started fixing supper like he always did. As the evening wore on, though, the silence became deafening, almost ominous. He couldn't place it, but somehow there was a different quality to it. A waiting.
They were about halfway through eating, at their usual slow, almost lethargic pace, when Sledgehammer spoke for the first time that night. "I heard... y'all were out, talkin' with a stallion... after work."
Finial had become extremely practiced at keeping his face straight and calm, and now that talent came in handy. Inside, he was squirming with anxiety, but outside, he was impassive.
"Oh?"
"Mmhmm... A gray one. I alsa' heard... he's simple."
It was difficult not to wince. That word, that description, seemed so terribly inappropriate after that afternoon. It wasn't the time to be debating the justice of labels, though. "Yeah. Yeah he is. He's a nice guy though. Just wants to be friendly. I think he's a new neighbor in the building."
Sledgehammer crunched his mouthful of salad with slow thoughtfulness, and swallowed. "Jus' make sure y'all don't get too friendly."
The comment was calm, even peaceable, but experience had taught Finial to hear a threat no one else likely would. Suddenly, his 'plan' didn't seem like such a good idea, but it was now or never.
"Listen, Sledge. I've been thinking..."
"Oh?" The edge in Sledgehammer's voice was uncloaked now, and he watched Finial with a half-expectant gaze. Finial felt his will falter a little.
"L-listen. Sledge, I know I'm probably not the only one you're interested in. I was thinking if you didn't wan-"
"Are ya accusin' me of somethin'?"
The conversation was taking a definite turn for the worse, and red flags were desperately trying to nab attention of his better senses. Sledgehammer continued before Finial could come up with an answer, though.
"'Course I am. Ya do such a pathetic job in bed I had t'find others." Without even blinking, Sledgehammer shoveled another mouthful of salad and started chewing. "Stop gapin' at me like that."
"Yo-..." Tears began to run down Finial's face. He knew it was a mistake. He knew they might make Sledgehammer angrier, but this time he couldn't stop them, and Sledgehammer was impervious. He wasn't sure what hurt more - the fact Sledgehammer could so dispassionately announce it, or what it implied about his feelings. "S-sledge... if.. if you don't like me, that's... that's fine. I was just trying to say, if you don't want me, I can... I can just leave. I can move ou-"
"Shut up. Ya ain't leavin'."
Maybe... maybe he just hadn't understood. Maybe he'd stopped listening... Every beat of his heart was a painful lurch in his chest, pounding again again as if it were trapped in a case of nails. "Sledge, I said if you don't like me, that's fine! I d-don't care! Just... just let me go my way and you don't have to wo-"
"I said SHUT UP!" Sledgehammer slammed both of his hooves onto the table thunderously, sending all of the food, drinks and plates into the air before splattering back onto the table in a mess. "An' if I ever hear ya talk about leavin' again, ya won't be goin' nowhere but six strides down." His appetite filled or spoiled, Sledgehammer stood and left the table, only pausing a moment to stare in disgust at Finial who sat choking over his sobs as he fought to silence them.
"I.... I just... want..."
"Ya jus' want what? What could ya want that I don't give ya? Food? A bed? Money?! Ya want my money?"
"I... just want..." He swallowed softly, still staring straight ahead. He couldn't move. He couldn't look at Sledgehammer. He just forced the words out in a blind, broken hope. "I just want you to love me... again..."
"Love ya!? Ya ain't worth it. Ya'd be doin' a favor if ya cut your throat on'a buzz saw. Clean that up an' come t'bed."
With that, the discussion came to an abrupt end, punctuated by Sledgehammer slamming the bedroom door closed behind him. Finial was shattered, and in that moment beyond all else, he wanted a friend.
If ever a living being could experience the detached, mechanical existence of a ghost caught in time, the heartless limbo of apathy would be closest to it. The world becomes a very different place without emotion. You sense things, you feel things, but everything slips by as meaningless, or technical information. The faculties that normally make life pleasant or unpleasant are filtered like background noise to the point where even your thoughts are stripped of life, and most of your mind becomes a deserted silence.
You don't eat because you're hungry or because food tastes good. You eat because you need to. You don't shower because it's pleasant or to relax. It's routine. You take safety precautions not from concern, but disinterested recognition you should. Those are the times you could face both death and eternal life with equal, machine-like complacency. There are neither meditations of life's purpose or worth, nor thoughts of suicide. You just don't care. That is apathy.
Finial had fallen asleep on the couch rather than go to bed. There was no dreaming comfort with Sledgehammer, no peace or imagined affection from the silence and bodily warmth. He couldn't pretend that Sledgehammer loved him, or hide in a crumbled fortress of fading, fond memories. His only companion had been a tear-stained corner pillow.
When next he woke it was to Sledgehammer jostling him, and the morning sunlight was already creeping past the blinds with inappropriate cheer. He turned his head to look at Sledgehammer and their eyes locked, but nothing exchanged. Their faces were equally blank. Gradually, memories from the night before began filtering into Finial's mind, but he still felt nothing, as though his emotions had been amputated. Some inkling knew that Sledgehammer was thinking about the night before as much as he was. What Finial's intuition couldn't divine was what Sledgehammer felt, and he didn't really care.
For a brief moment, Sledgehammer opened his mouth to say something. He paused as conflict crossed his face, and then he closed it again. Whatever internal argument had been betrayed by his eyes was squelched in an instant, and his face had returned to its stony expression.
"It's time for breakfast."
Sledgehammer's sentence was simple and bland, as devoid of feeling and emotion as his face. Most would read that statement and move on thinking it normal and insignificant, but Sledgehammer hadn't spoken before work in months, or perhaps even a year. It was easy to lose track. Silence like that might seem strange and alien - one not wanting to speak, and the other afraid to - but when it becomes an accustomed routine it's hard to realize how bad things are till you encounter the exception to the rule. The fact the exception was such an insipid statement only made it more obtrusive; an insult would have been less out of place.
Breakfast slid by, and then work. Even Sledgehammer seemed somewhat subdued that day. The few who took notice only did so as passing observations which were idly waved off. Time had lost its consistency and meaning, slipping beneath Finial's notice as he worked through the day. It was almost a surprise when their shifts came to an end, but some distant, small part of him had been waiting for it. As little as he felt, there was one thing he wanted to do. He wanted to see Klutz. The two of them walked out the gate of the construction site, and Sledgehammer started making his way toward the apartment. Finial stayed behind, fighting the habitual urge to follow along. When Sledgehammer noticed Finial wasn't beside him, he turned around and looked back, his face almost despondent.
"Where ya goin'?" His voice hadn't changed since that morning. It was still blank and without inflection. The only evidence that he actually cared was the fact he said something.
"I'm going shopping. We need food."
"Are ya gonna see that pony?"
Still no change in his voice, though now, Finial thought he detected a slight weariness to it.
"Possibly. I don't know."
He waited. Sledgehammer didn't say anything at first, but eventually his patience was rewarded.
"......are ya gonna come back?"
This time, there was definitely something different to his voice. It was almost... hopeless. Sledgehammer had turned away again and was staring across the street, listening for the answer with unaccustomed patience. Sledgehammer's threat flashed into Finial's mind and part of him wanted to say "No" just to see what would happen - the part of him that didn't really care what happened. He let the question hang in the air, standing in silence as the first vestiges of his emotions murmured in his heart, struggling over what ought to be said. He wanted to say yes, he wanted to say no, he wanted to give hope, he wanted to inflict pain... he wanted Sledgehammer to understand...
"....I don't know."
Finial turned away and continued down the sidewalk. Sledgehammer didn't move.
* * * * * * *
Despite it being the afternoon, the market was busy that day. Ponies everywhere, trying to get their shopping done before anyone else, since the morning and noon rushes had passed and the vendors were setting out the last of their reserves for the evening crowd. Lines were strung out from every open shop, and the area was filled with the sound of ponies chatting, gossiping, laughing, bartering and haggling. Drifting around in the midst of it like a leaf on the surface of a stream, was Finial, not really interested in buying anything but time for the off-chance that Klutz would find him.
He had no particular reason to believe Klutz would be at the market or even available. It had just been the most honest and convenient excuse to not follow along to the apartment. All he knew was that Klutz lived somewhere in the same building, and yesterday he had the time and concern to follow him around a construction site, while somehow remaining unnoticed. The thought made Finial smile, just slightly. He'd never known a pegasus so sneaky, and he'd met drunks at the pub who were less persistent - though Sledgehammer was usually there to knock them one if they got too friendly. He had a strong punch too... Finial could swear by it.
Everything around him felt muted and distant. The racket of the market frenzy was barely a murmur in his ears, and his direction was guided solely by where there was space to walk. When someone he might've known smiled and waved he smiled and waved back. It was an automatic, programmed response from years of habit, mechanical and practically meaningless. Inside, he was walking an emotional tightrope, afraid that straying too far in any direction would just send him toppling into the abyss he felt in his heart. He was holding out for a hope, and he knew these first few steps he needed to take on his own. These were his first few steps.
"Hey..."
"Auh! Kg-...Klutz!..." After the initial shock had passed, Finial heaved a sigh and rubbed his head. Somehow, it felt like Klutz had barged into the middle of his thoughts. Nothing seemed hidden from that searching, piercing eye of his. None of the important things, anyway. "Sorry, you just startled me."
When he looked at the pegasus, he finally learned what his job was. Strapped to his sides were a pair of flight crates: the kind used for large, single shipments over short distances. They'd get a lot of such shipments at the construction site when they ordered parts from local suppliers. In this case though, it looked more like...
"Muffins?"
The pegasus followed Finial's gaze to the crates then looked back at him. "Hmm?
"You deliver muffins?"
Klutz bobbed his head with a smile and proudly rattled the cargo with a shake.
"Err.. are you working? Am I interrupting?"
"Nope... just finished..."
Finial nodded and looked away for a few moments, instinctively trying to hide the strain in his face. Like chained animals sensing freedom, the emotions he had battened down so securely began to struggle against their bindings. Pain could only be held back for so long before it sought an outlet. He knew he could tell Klutz, he wanted to, for once not lie. The more he thought about it, the more the shackles of his apathy began to deteriorate, and the more drawn his features became.
"You were hurt... again..."
A painful throb lurched in Finial's heart. Barely a minute ago he had been barren of any feelings, and now suddenly they were roiling inside of him, threatening to make him break down there in the marketplace. Finial mustered his all of his will and reined back the rebelling emotions with a deep, resolute sigh, steeling himself till he finally felt the squall in his heart quiet down again.
Eventually he opened his eyes and heaved a second sigh, more relaxed than the last. He could still feel his emotions struggling inside of him, tugging at his face as they tried to manifest themselves, but it was more manageable at least. He mostly kept his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him, as the grass was less likely to incite another revolt than trying to look at Klutz.
"We just... had an argument... is all. I'd rather not talk about it. And you probably wanna get out of those crates anyway."
Klutz just watched him a few contemplative moments, chewing on his thoughts. Klutz had called himself slow, but he seemed to have a knack for reading others. Stories had circulated of "retarded" individuals being incredibly good at certain things, far beyond the normal capacity. But "retarded" just didn't do Klutz justice anymore, nor "impaired." The more Finial knew of him, the less he seemed to be either. Was his talent empathy? Wisdom? Or... maybe simplicity. Could simplicity be a talent? Is that why he had bubbles for a cutie mark? Simple, transparent, perfect spheres... even beautiful in their own way.
A shock ran through his body as he suddenly became aware of a warm, soft nose pressing against his cheek. He didn't jump, he didn't cry out, he didn't move. He just felt his heart skip a beat. A moment later, Klutz pulled away and lowered his head to Finial's eye-level when he was sure he'd acquired the colt's attention.
"Let's... go talk."
Nothing more was said as they started walking, this time with Klutz in the lead and Finial following along beside him. Sledgehammer had led Finial places plenty of times before, but this was different. He followed Sledgehammer out of mindless habit. He followed Klutz out of trust. It was humbling. There he was, being led like a foal by one most ponies looked on with pity, speaking to him with the same patronizing tone used when babbling cute nonsense to a baby. Finial had almost done the same thing, and the fact Klutz could live with such a lack of animosity or bitterness in his heart astounded him.
They left the market behind and eventually made their way to a tiny park on the east side of town. Mothers usually brought their foals there during the day, and the gangs congregated there at night. As per the social schedule, several mares were sitting on the benches surrounding the brownish green patch of grass, chatting away while others played with or corralled their charges.
After unstrapping the crates from his back, Klutz sat on an unoccupied bench with a young birch tree growing at either side and motioned for Finial to join him. Klutz didn't seem in a rush to say anything. Instead, he just looked out over the park, watching the activity. And he was smiling, softly. Finial couldn't seem to look away this time. The stallion's calm, peaceful smile entranced him somehow, perhaps by some vicarious longing to know what it felt like to smile that way.
"It's nice here..."
Klutz hadn't even turned his head when he said it. It wasn't a conversation starter or a prompt. It was just a simple observation, a feeling he wanted to share because he enjoyed it. Finial finally tore his eyes away from Klutz and tried to take in the scene for himself.
A streaming chorus of playful screams and giggles danced over the late afternoon air, occasionally mixed with the child-like seriousness of an argument over a game of jacks or marbles. Foals of various sizes and ages over at one end of the park were playing "Sun Island" underneath the trees on the far side of the park, hopping from one patch of sunlight to the other. A chubby earth foal kept barely clearing the distance, more than once nudged into balance by one of his friends before he toppled over.
Finial remembered setting off to "explore" the woods behind his house with his best friend in the early summer mornings. Brooks he had seen a hundred times before were always new places, depending where his imagination placed them. His tree house never ceased to be sieged by sudden hoards of monsters, spies, and worst of all, adults. He remembered trying to count the constellations, staring for shooting stars till his eyes dried out, playing cloud charades with the pegasi foals, running through thunderstorms pretending it was the end of the world, and home was the only safe place. It seemed... so far away.
The sun cast everything in a golden glow tinged by the first blush of sunset as it slowly eased toward the horizon. It held a silent, living beauty no unicorn magic could touch. When a breeze brushed through the summer long-grass beyond the park it transformed into a shimmering sea of sunlight, sprawling out to a rose horizon crowned in bridal-silk clouds. He couldn't remember the last time he had even thought about anything beautiful, yet there it was sitting in front of him, waiting for someone to see it.
He focused back on Klutz for a moment, and realized the pegasus was no longer looking out over the park, but at him, watching with a gentle, knowing smile. He'd seen the look before on the faces of parents when their foals first learn to fly, or levitate their first object. It was a look of quiet joy. "He gets it. He understands." Finial dropped his gaze to the ground and swallowed.
"Y-yeah... it... it is..." He reached up and wiped his cheek with a foreleg. He wasn't crying, but sometimes when you feel you might, you do anyway just in case. He couldn't hold Klutz's gaze. He knew he'd lose it if he tried. Something inside of him other than his emotions had been set free. A truth that was breathing its first free gasps of air.
A large, gray hoof stroked over his cheek and tenderly lifted his muzzle again. Klutz was still smiling, as warm as the deepening sunglow that lit his face. As the first sob freed itself from Finial's throat, he felt the tears start streaking down his face. He felt ashamed of them. Silly. Yet he couldn't stop them.
"H-how do you make me cry ov-over such s-stupid stuff..."
Finial, clenched his eyes shut and made a feeble attempt to pull his head away, but Klutz just drew it back. When he opened his eyes, Klutz's smile hadn't wavered in the least.
"You're crying... over... the best there is..."
"'Ey mister pi-rate. Why's 'e cryin'?"
Much to Finial's embarrassment, the two of them glanced down to find they had gained a minor audience. Literally. About five foals had crowded around the bench, each peering at him and Klutz with shamelessly inquisitive eyes. The voice seemed to belong to the closest, a pink unicorn filly. Finial immediately straightened up and scrambled to compose himself, putting on that plastered smile again, though its integrity was largely compromised by sniffles and the tears that stubbornly continued.
"He's... he's not a pirate sweetie. He jus-"
"Yaaaar! A' course Imma pirate!"
Finial just stared at Klutz in shock. "Wh.. what!? Don't tell them-"
"Did you fight a bully? 'Cuz you got a black eye, and my cousin got a black eye when he fought a bully." The filly's child-like logic was a little too close for comfort, but before Finial could think of a reply, one of the colts carried the conversation with his own speculation.
"Did ya beat 'im? Was 'e big?"
"I fought a bully once! I lost a tooth too, but it grew back!"
"Liar! Teeth don't grow back!"
"Yes they do!"
"Do not!"
"Look!" Intent on proving his point, the colt with a head slightly over-sized for his body opened his mouth as far as he possibly could, proudly displaying a front tooth noticeably shorter than its counterpart. A couple of the foals thought it was just broken. One insisted that teeth did grow, though he admitted not knowing into what. The other was attempting to confirm the speculation of the first two by twisting her head upside down to look inside the colt's mouth. As this world-altering debate continued, Klutz's grin grew a mile wide, his face practically brimming with laughter.
"Mister pi-rate, do teeth really grow back?"
"Yar! But only once... when you're young!"
At this point, the colt with the debated dental condition decided to chime in while trying to keep his mouth open. It was a difficult feat, considering the filly was now lying on her back trying to pry his lips wider with her hooves. "Yau taahk funnah."
Finial expected to see hurt in Klutz's face, but it never came, not even the slightest. In fact, he went right along without missing a beat.
"I sing funny too!” Klutz stood and started hi-step trotting around in a circle, kicking his legs in needlessly fancy ways. "Yo-ho, yo-ho a pirate life fo' me. Yo-ho, yo-ho a pirate life fo' me. Yo-ho, yo-ho a pirate life fo' me."
It was largely dual-tone, repetitive and... bad. The foals around him were laughing hysterically, pointing, rolling around in the grass having gigglefits. A pang of guilt rang through Finial's heart. His condition couldn't be helped, it wasn't a laughing matter. It was cruel of them to laugh, and crueler that Klutz didn't seem to realize they were laughing at him. Or... maybe... he didn't care.
Soon, one of the colts was trotting along behind him, mimicking his motions, voice and mannerisms in an exaggerated way. The fad caught on, and shortly the rest were trying to do the same thing, along with a few additional foals who'd been attracted by the antics. Within moments, there was one joyously discordant train marching around the park grounds with Klutz as the leader, adding flourishing motions and new words to the chant while mischievously peering out the corner of his eye to watch the foals attempt incorporating the changes into their own versions of the march with spotty success. The most studious foal, trailing along at the end of the chain, had tied a maple leaf over one eye with a piece of string to get the true "pirate look." Every few steps his makeshift patch would slip and he'd pause to push it up again, keeping him just slightly more out of step than anyone else.
Finial's eyes traveled back up to fix on Klutz again. The stallion was filled with mirth of a purity he hadn't seen anywhere but in those little foals. It was as if all of the best parts of childhood had been consolidated into one being, and then aged to a gentle, adult-like maturity. Right about then, Klutz looked back at him and waved with a pointed smile, and Finial smiled back. It was hard not to, since the entire line of dancing-pirate cult converts had turned to copy him in proud gusto. It was then Finial realized that he was smiling just as Klutz had when they first came to the park. He was filled with an inexplicable, peaceful warmth. Though he wasn't sure he had ever felt it before, he was sure he would never forget.
The games continued, and slowly the parade group dispersed as mothers gathered their foals and went home. The sun was just barely peeking past the hills in the distance, and the evening summer breeze had started combing through the air. Klutz walked up to Finial and smiled gently, though there was, for once, a touch of sadness to it.
"Can... I walk you home?"
Home. Strangely, the glow in Finial's heart didn't shrink as much as he expected it to at the thought. He still felt at peace. But home was still a place he needed to go. Though for how long, he wasn't sure. He was sure that it wouldn't go over well if he came back with Klutz again.
"Only if you need to go back too, Klutz."
Klutz paused for a moment, then shook his head. "No... I have another... shift tonight..."
Finial smiled a bit and reached over to pat Klutz's hoof. "It's probably better if I go alone, then. I'm sorry." He turned to leave but Klutz halted him gently with his foreleg.
"You... don't have to... go back..." The smile was gone from his face, and instead there was an earnest pleading. So much of Finial wanted to follow that advice, but something still held him back.
"I guess... part of me wants to think he can change. He could learn-" Finial stopped himself. Somehow, imagining Sledgehammer acting like Klutz was beyond ludicrous, to the point it almost seemed insulting to compare the two. It didn't help that it already felt like a stupid excuse on his part. "What I mean to say is... you are a wonderful friend. Thank you for..." He glanced out to the park, and the last red glows of daylight as they faded over the edge of the world, "...everything."
"You're... welcome..."
Finial thought he heard tears in those words, but he couldn't bring himself to look. Instead he gently pulled away and made his way "home." He didn't rush. Despite the time, he was in no hurry. He knew Sledgehammer would be mad, but he'd been mad before.
His job was here, his belongings were here, his life was here. Leaving wasn't as easy as he wanted it to be. The despondency in Sledgehammer's voice that morning echoed back in his mind, and that small voice that yearned to hope clung to it. It hoped for a tearful confession and a changed heart, one the rest of him doubted would ever truthfully come. It wasn't really a question of could he change. Everyone can change... but would he.
All too soon, he found himself walking up to the apartment building. It was strange that the park seemed miles away. In his mind he still saw it there, the sun filling the golden scene, and Klutz, that lug of a pegasus laughing in the middle of it with the foals. The image made him smile as he climbed the stairs, plodding up one by one. When he pressed his key into the lock of the door, his heart gave one final surge and pressed him to turn back, but he grit his teeth and opened it anyway. His mind was right. He couldn't just leave - maybe with preparations in a week or two, but to simply leave would only cause trouble.
Or would it...
As the door swung open, the first thing to strike Finial was the almost complete dark. No lights were on in the rooms anywhere, save for the window's very pale, useless blue glow from the moon and street lamps outside, which was muted itself by the drapes and blinds. What light shined in from the hallway revealed the kitchen floor was strewn with broken glass, broken furniture and smeared food.
He furtively reached in to switch on the lights, only to find the switch was already up. The lamps were probably lying smashed somewhere on the floor with the rest of the furnishings. He stood in the hallway, about as willing to enter the apartment as he would be the cave of some fanged horror. Everything about the scene told him Sledgehammer was either very angry, or very drunk and very angry. Either way, he was also very dangerous.
The apartment was silent, though. Perhaps Sledgehammer had stumbled down to the pub at some point. Or perhaps he was hurt... It was the latter part that finally drew his first few footsteps. Finial slid his hooves over the tiles, shuffling more than walking as he tried to sweep away any sharp debris. The strong scent of beer and liquor wafted into his nose, so strong he couldn't tell if it was spilled somewhere in the darkness, or if it was due to the amount that Sledgehammer had been drinking, or both. His hoof ran across something rough on the tiles, and another scent slipped in underneath the others. Slowly, he leaned down and sniffed: dried blood.
"Sledge!? Sledge!"
Suddenly heedless of the wreck in the unseen dark, Finial stumbled forward blindly till he felt his forelegs run into something organic. When a few furtive prods with his hoof confirmed it was a pony, he immediately dropped and began feeling his way along till he found the stallion's chest and pressed his head to it. Seconds ticked by, but eventually Finial relaxed. Sledgehammer's breathing and heart rate seemed normal. He had likely just cut himself on a piece of glass and passed out.
In a way, it was almost serendipitous, because it did two things for Finial. He knew he couldn't stay, now, and he'd probably never get an easier chance to say goodbye. Though his eyes were still adjusting to the dark, he could see enough to make out Sledgehammers head and leaned over to kiss his cheek. Oddly, amongst the alcohol, he caught the faint smell of salt as well: tears. The idea of Sledgehammer crying was an alien one, but it only caught his heart a moment. It was still time to go.
"...I'm sorry, Sledge. I'm sorry you changed. Goodbye."
Resolve will do strange things to a pony, and here once more, Finial felt himself disconnect from his emotions as he stepped over the sleeping form and groped his way to the bedroom. Thankfully, the light in that room hadn't been smashed and turned on normally. In fact, everything except one had been spared Sledgehammer's drunken rage. A photo of himself and Sledgehammer had been dashed against the wall and now laid under a layer of shattered glass, a symbol of the shattered memories it represented. It was ironic. That picture was the one proof Finial had that once he was able to smile naturally around the stallion.
He gently pushed the picture to the side and walked over to the bed, pulling out the smaller of two suitcases underneath and clicking it open. It wouldn't take long to pack the few belongings he needed. When he turned to walk to his dresser, however, he found Sledgehammer standing there, staring at him.
His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and were furrowed into a sorrowful, flat-browed expression that almost made him zombie-like. A dozen or two small cuts and scratches scattered over his side marked where shards of broken bottles had bitten into it as he slept, and looking down, he found that a larger shard was still sticking out of Sledgehammer's foreleg and bleeding onto the rug. Sledgehammer seemed completely oblivious to it.
"...ya came back..."
His voice, though mostly that same despondency from earlier, managed to carry a touch of surprise. Finial paused for a moment, uncertain whether he should respond, and how. "...yes, I did." He walked to the bathroom, grabbed a washcloth and made his way back, gently wrapping it around the shard. "Hold still." Sledgehammer didn't even twitch as Finial pulled the glass free. The wound bled a lot but seemed mostly superficial. Finial tossed the cloth somewhere to the side and resumed his previous path to the dresser, pulling out what few belongings he had or needed.
"...ya'r leavin'?"
"...yes, I am."
No sooner had he tossed them into his suitcase than Sledgehammer drew him into a hug and started pressing kisses to his neck. A shock of revulsion ran through Finial as he jerked free, shooting Sledgehammer a searing glare before grabbing his suitcase and dragging it over to the dresser. He didn't want to keep walking past the creep.
"Ya can still love me, can't ya? Ya can love me?"
Hearing those words in that pleading tone almost broke Finial. After five years, he was asking that now? Finial didn't answer. He just ignored it and yanked a few more things out of the drawer as angry tears streaked down his cheeks, stinging like liquid darts. He was beginning to rush now, pulling things out and throwing them into the case with no particular order. The longer he spent there the less he had any desire to do so. Again Sledgehammer tried to pull him into a hug, but Finial writhed away as if he'd been branded.
"NO! ...I have always loved the stallion I met five years ago. You aren't that stallion! I'm not sure that stallion even existed or if he was just bait to draw me in! You don't want to love. You want a free pass to being loved! You don't want consequences. You don't want responsibility. You want emotional servitude! And for all I know you're too drunk to even grasp what I'm saying."
For several seconds, they just stared at each other. Finial was reeling with the force of his own emotion. Never in the last few years would he have dared talk to Sledgehammer like that, and yet there he was, shouting at him, not caring what came from it. Dependency on someone else, sharing life, wasn't a necessity. It was a gift, and Sledgehammer had lost it. He didn't deserve to have someone depend on him.
Finial's chest heaved as huff after huff of angry, hot air blasted its way through his lungs. Sledgehammer just gazed at him, and for the first time in years, Finial thought he might have detected a hint of pain. He turned away from it with a defiant, resentful twist, forcing himself to finish packing.
"...ya'r leavin' me for that... simple..."
There was the edge that had been hiding.
"I don't know where I'm going. All I know is it'll be away from y-"
The colt never remembered being struck so hard by anything, or anyone. It was an almost surreal experience. All thoughts, all feelings left his mind. He felt the hoof smash into the side of his face, but he didn't black out. He felt himself fall, hit the floor, all of the motion slipping by his vision with a serene fluidity. It wasn't until several seconds after he'd fallen that the sharp, crackling pain manifested in the side of his skull, and a familiar liquid heat began seeping down that side. He also became aware of a stabbing pain in his thigh, and managed to turn his head enough to find he'd fallen on the picture, and one of the larger shards was now embedded in his haunch.
"I'M BETT'A THAN 'IM! I AIN'T NO SIMPLE!"
Finial shoved past the the careening pain in his head and ignored the shouting as he struggled to bend around and pull out the glass. It took several tries and cut lips before his teeth finally caught, and he let out a yell as the jagged edge cut further as he pulled it free. No sooner had he gotten it out though, than another crushing blow landed on the top of his head, tearing past his ear. He couldn't scream - his voice was frozen in his throat. All he could do was curl up as the throbbing pain reverberated in his skull.
"I saw ya with 'im! I saw ya laughin' and smilin'! Ya can love ME!"
The adrenalin pumping through Finial's system endowed the strength to drag himself up from the floor and stumble across the room, but then came another hit. A pair of steeled hind hooves slammed into his chest and threw him backward onto the bed, blasting the air from his lungs. In a saving grace, Sledgehammer was too inebriated to judge the distance and much of the force was stolen from the otherwise fatal strike. Finial realized, though, intentional or not, Sledgehammer would kill him.
When the stallion reared for another attack, Finial caught sight of his face for the first time since he'd fallen. It was no longer cast in a sorrowed despondence. His features were twisted into a ghoulish snarl of sheer fury, his reddened eyes seething with livid rage. At that moment, whether by grant of epiphany by some gracious power or raw inspiration of a desperate mind, Finial knew exactly what he needed to do. In a surge of pure willpower, he lunged for the nightstand and grabbed the lamp by the top, his only weapon and his only light-source, and threw it at Sledgehammer's face.
As if enchanted by divine guidance, the lamp hit its mark and shattered against the stallion's head, plunging the room into darkness with a violent blue spark. Sledgehammer screamed, and as Finial rolled to the side he felt the deadly hooves strike the mattress behind him. When he tumbled off the bed and looked up, though, he saw a light glowing in the rooms past: the front door was still open.
The pain in his body was screaming at him, but he pushed it out of his mind as he dashed for the bedroom door. By pure serendipity, where his smaller frame could slip through the doorway, Sledgehammer's shoulder caught and dragged the door shut on his neck as he tried to stumble through. Finial's only guidance through the dark was the darker forms of scattered furniture, and it wasn't long before he found himself falling onto his face, having tripped over a shattered chair and into a puddle of drying beer. He heard the bedroom door crash outward behind him, and several agonizing seconds passed as he fought the pain in his leg to drag himself up again.
Somehow, he caught his balance and plunged forward out of the entanglement, launching the chair backward with his good hind leg in the off-chance it would slow down pursuit. He rounded the counter and leapt forward, crashing down again halfway to the door. He heard Sledgehammer run into the chair and start shouting again, and his legs kicked into action, scrabbling over the tiles till they caught and launched him forward again and burst him into the hallway light.
He didn't stop there, though. Sledgehammer was too drunk and too angry to care about who saw. Limping and bleeding a wide trail of blood beneath himself, Finial stumbled down the stairway as fast as he could. Names and faces of others he knew in the building flashed through his mind of who he could run to, but it was all useless. Sledgehammer would out-pace him before he reached anyone. Outside. He had to get outside.
Pounding footfalls faster than his own began thundering down the stairs by the time he had reached the bottom of the first flight. The next flight, he took a chance and jumped halfway down, miraculously landing on his hooves and sliding into the wall. His heart was pumping madly in his chest. The pain shooting through him was nothing but a dull background to his dread. Finial slammed himself against the door, which arduously seemed to fight him. Perhaps it was loss of blood, perhaps it was his wounded leg or sheer fear, but it seemed to weigh as much as a bank vault. Still he pushed, his heart and Sledgehammer's hoofsteps pounding in his ears. Suddenly it gave way and he burst past the threshold. And ran.
He didn't see the guards he passed or other ponies. All he heard were pounding, deadly hoofbeats on the ground behind him. And he knew he couldn't run as fast. Shouts sounded behind him, distant and irrelevant. His mind was fading. Two forelegs clamped around his chest and he let out a scream as he began to kick frantically. His first strike connected with something solid, but the next strike met nothing but air.
Then he heard it: strong, slow, heavy wingbeats. His heart shuddered inside of him as he realized he was being carried upward, dangling over the street as the pavement became more distant beneath them. He looked up, and outlined in the moonlight was a ghostly, serious face, with an eye patch that couldn't be mistaken. All at once, though, Klutz let out a yell, and the two of them lurched toward the ground. Finial looked down to find that in some impossible feat of rage or desperation, Sledgehammer had clamped the end of Klutz's tail in his mouth, and was swinging underneath them. With the weight tremendously increased, it was all Klutz could do to stay in the air, and climb slowly, sweat beginning to stream down his sides as his muscles overheated with the strain.
Klutz gave a single kick that connected with Sledgehammer's jaw, and the stallion let go. For a split second, Finial's eyes connected with Sledgehammer's once more. All he saw was pure, mindless grief and dejection, as if begging sympathy. The next moment, their gaze was torn as he tumbled downward, letting out a shriek which was quickly silenced as his body smacked head-first onto the pavement.
Finial was never sure how long that moment in time lasted, staring downward at the crumbled heap shrinking below him as he was lifted faster and higher. All he felt were the first, shaking sobs that racked his body as Klutz carried him skyward. Eventually they reached the cloud-line, a landscape of shapeless ghosts illuminated by moonlight. Klutz flew to the nearest, and in a surprising feat of acrobatic grace, spun Finial around in the air to face him as he landed laying backward on the cloud, cradling Finial between his limbs.
Shake. All Finial could do, was shake. His heart was still pounding, aching, his breath still heaving. Forceful, paralyzing sobs gripped his chest as tears poured from his eyes, smearing the dried blood streaked over his face. He wasn't crying out of physical pain, though, nor relief, nor happiness, nor sorrow. There are some emotions so powerful and so rare they defy description, but anyone who has felt them knows what they are. He simply could not stop.
Klutz never said a word, never shushed him, never tried to wipe his tears. He simply held him silently, staring up at the stars above them. And at some point, Finial fell asleep.
You know a heart is truly broken when it ceases to feel pain.
The next thing that Finial felt was the caress of a gentle, glowing warmth across his face. His eyes fluttered open, and gradually he became aware he was lying in a hospital bed, in a smallish room with windows lining one side. The room was awash with sunlight, and the sun itself seemed to peer through the glass like a curious observer as it climbed the late morning sky.
Bandages covered most of his head, his chest, and from what he could feel under the sheets, his hind leg, and a faint, dull ache had settled where he vaguely remembered a gripping pain. There was a muted bustle beyond the room's door, composed of nurses and doctors talking, announcements over a P.A. system, and the occasional squeaking wheels of various carts.
At first, Finial thought he was alone in the room, but as his gaze slowly shifted to the wall opposite the windows, he found a familiar gray stallion, sleeping in one of the bedside chairs. A white gauze medical polo wrapped Klutz's right hind pastern, and for a moment he wasn't sure why. Then he remembered the kick he had made when Klutz first snatched him off the ground, and winced. Along with that memory came a string of others which were far harder to manage. He closed his eyes and turned his head up toward the ceiling, his breath shuddering with a dull ache as he sought to maintain order in the drowning flood of images and emotions.
Finally, his mind settled again as things fell into place, and the events found an appropriate sense of distance. Nevertheless, he was overshadowed by a clinging melancholy around his heart as certain things kept pressing themselves into the forefront of his thoughts.
The room's door creaked open softly, and a bright yellow unicorn with a lemon-cream mane uncertainly poked his head in. The moment he saw Finial was awake, a broad smile lit his face and he trotted in the rest of the way, closing the door again behind him to shut out the noise. The colt was adorned with a sunburst cutie mark and a nurse's saddle laden with various medical supplies.
"Good morning! I'm Nurse Brightside. Glad to see you're up! How are you feeling?"
By the time his sentence was finished, the nurse was already standing by the bed with several implements floating in a light gold glow as he went about checking the dressings.
"I'm... I'm fine I guess..."
Brightside paused for a moment as his smile softened in sympathy, seeming to pick up on the uncertainty, then resumed the present task with typical nurse professionalism. "Hmm... follow the light with your eyes? ...uh-huh... Good! Now, hold your foreleg up for just a moment... that's it." At first it appeared he'd lost himself in his work, slipping a blood pressure cuff over Finial's leg and going through the usual motions without any indication he was thinking about what was said. Once he was done, however, he tucked the instruments away in his saddle and gently rested his forehoof over Finial's.
"...you've been through a lot, if the situation you came in is any indication. I've seen my fair share as a nurse, and I won't patronize you and say getting over it will be easy or to keep a stiff upper lip or anything like that, but..." At this point, Brightside nodded in the direction of the sleeping pegasus, "I will say that you have the most valuable thing anyone could ask to get you through it: a friend. Don't give up."
Brightside smiled again and slipped back into cheery business mode, pulling away from the bed and making sure he had all of his instruments. "Well then! I'll make sure the next nurse isn't too tardy in bringing you something to eat if you feel up for it. In the meantime, I have other patients to check!" He reached over and gently shook Klutz by the shoulder. "Rise and shine prince charming!" He turned, winked once at Finial, and trotted out of the room while Klutz blearily pulled himself up in the chair. Klutz probably hadn't even seen who woke him before his gaze met Finial's.
All at once, he was alert and on his hooves with one foreleg hugging gently over Finial's midsection. Klutz offered a small, concerned smile as his eye traced up and down the colt, as if to make sure he was all there. "Hey..."
"Hey..." It was impossible to hold back how glad he was to have Klutz there, and equally impossible not to smile in return, but his smile was short-lived and marked with sadness. He reciprocated Klutz's searching gaze for a few moments, his eyes wandering till he noticed the bandaging on the stallion's leg again. "Your leg..."
Klutz followed Finial's eyes and then turned back shaking his head. "Will be fine..." He rapped the hoof on the floor a few times to prove its health. "Just scratched..."
With a somewhat weary struggle, Finial slung his own foreleg over Klutz's to hold it close and turned to gaze out the window, only passively taking in what he could see. Even the pain that ached through his injuries was just a mild distraction. It was his heart that hurt even more.
"We're not in Bradoon, anymore." The quiet, almost disinterested tone of Finial's comment showed that it wasn't the forefront of his thoughts, but merely a background observation as he wrestled the true subject of his attention.
"No... we're in Ponyville..."
Finial simply nodded and fell silent again, still staring out the window. For a few minutes, the only sounds that disturbed the room were the soft scratching of tree leaves on the glass windows, and the quiet, continuous noise on the other side of the door. Finally Finial's internal dialog worked its way to his voice, his head pressing deeper into the hospital pillow as he tensed, as if bracing himself.
"Wha-..." his voice gave out for a moment and he unconsciously clutched Klutz's leg closer, as if garnering strength from it as he grappled back a momentary surge in his emotions. "What... what happened to Sledge?"
The response Klutz gave was as much bodily as it was verbal, his entire visage drooping as he hugged Finial a little more tightly. "He's gone..."
Again, Finial nodded, but his face had contorted as he tried to hold back the tears welling in his eyes. "Before... before he-... attacked..." He gulped and let his body heave through a few sobs before continuing, trying to keep himself composed enough to talk, though his voice was becoming more and more strained. "He... he asked me if I could love him..." A few more sobs painfully squeezed their way of out his chest as tears began to flow in earnest again. "I... I told him no.."
His emotional resolve depleted, Finial broke down entirely, sobbing as hard as the bandages and pain in his chest would allow. Klutz swallowed softly and tenderly pulled his foreleg up to brush Finial's face, a tear collecting in his own eyes and trailing down his cheek. Though weak and warbled, eventually Finial's feelings found a voice again, choking out whatever words he could manage.
"I... I told him no and he died... he died thinking... no one l-... loved him. I wanted to love him... Why... why do I feel so horrible? What... what if I gave him a chance? I took it away... I could see his eyes... the despair... He wated... wanted love... why..."
Once more Finial succumbed to his tears, but they were quieter now, his face glistening in the sunlight streaming in through the window, and though silent and unsobbing, Klutz's own tears were just as constant. For a long while, they simply cried together, but finally the feelings in the gray stallion's heart found words to match, and once again they were soft and clear.
"You have... a tender heart. You gave love for so long. But it isn't... in your power to... change a pony's heart. You gave him everything he needed... to change. He was the one... who didn't change. If... you giving him a chance... would have made a difference... the difference in him... would have already been made... and he wouldn't have attacked. He only... loved himself. And... what he could take... from you."
Finial closed his eyes and tried to show gratitude by rubbing the leg that held him. His tears still came, but the sobbing had stopped, and his breathing was a little easier. "I don't hate him, Klutz. I... don't hate him." He finally turned his head back from the window and stared up at the stallion, almost pleadingly. "Does... that make me wrong?"
At this, Klutz smiled again. It was the same smile Finial had seen him wear that day at the park, a look of gentle pride and happiness.
"No... Fin. It makes you beautiful."
Finial smiled again at that statement, and though tearful, it wasn't as hard a feat as he thought it would be. It didn't fade this time, and the sorrow had largely left his face. This time it was Finial who reached up and rubbed Klutz's cheek where the tears had run. He knew then, and always would, that the stallion's gift was his simplicity.
"You're beautiful too, Klutz."
Very gently, Klutz leaned down and pressed the length of his muzzle against Finial's, holding it there as they closed their eyes, with the sun shining its blessing on them both.
You've heard it said there are some moments in time that last forever. Most will dismiss the phrase as a sentimental notion to be reserved for romantic occasions, cards and speeches, but the key that so many fail to realize, is that the truth of the phrase doesn't lie in the mechanics of time, but in the nature of a selfless heart. It is a rare and sacred thing, often counterfeited, romanticized, made light of and even mocked, but never copied, and only understood in the gift of experience.
The moment that extends into eternities does not exist in time, but transcends it, and like the dawn of an endless sunrise, seals the hearts that share it in an ageless matrimony, for that has been its nature since love and time began: a mutual gift of oneself to another, and a living promise that exceeds all others. It isn't officiated in words or documents, but in that moment of time, which truly lasts forever. It is the simplest, and most beautiful, of all things.
This marks the end of the story, for where this story ends a new one began. A story with a happy beginning.
------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------
Finial sat back in his chair, staring at the pages on his desk. There were crossed out words and scribbles in the margins, but he was proud of it all the same. A few more corrections remained to be made, but they could wait till the morning. The chair squeaked softly as he pushed it back and stood, leaning over to turn out the lamp as he did. The room was left in a peaceful darkness, broken only by the moonbeams tracing their slow way across the floor and bed.
Lying there, already asleep, was a large gray pegasus with a blond mane, the covers in front of him pulled back expectantly for their missing occupant. It had been several wonderfully long years since what Fin wrote about took place, and he never regretted one. The brown colt quietly made his way over to the bed and slipped into it, resting his head on the pillow as he smiled at the moon outside. After a moment he scooted back and leaned his head against Klutz, nickering softly as the stallion automatically pulled him close in his sleep.
His eye was crooked and his words were slow, but his heart beat stronger than any other.
