... Is it Still a Pie?
The stallion’s ear twitched as the front door creaked open, as that was never a good sign. Usually, ponies entered their home with some level of enthusiasm: leading to a cheerful BANG when the door flies open. Or they just knock like they’re asking for a minute to talk about their Lord and Saviour.
Curiously, he set down the newspaper and headed to the door, still unsure as to who it might’ve been. He thought that maybe it was Twilight: coming back for another visit to see how Pinkie was doing, as she was the only pony who entered that quietly. His sharp green eyes flicked to the doorway as he adjusted the collar of his yellow shirt, and his ears drooped as he saw something he hoped he’d never have to see again.
Pinkie Pie was standing in the doorway, her colors darker than normal, and her mane hung limp as tears pulled at her eyes.
“Hi, Cheesie,” she sighed through a sad smile, her voice stained with her despair. “I’m home.”
“You alright?” Cheese Sandwich asked as he walked up to put his hoof over her neck in a small embrace. “Did Redheart’s party go as planned?”
His concern grew when even her saddened smile fell into a frown. Something hurt her, bad, and he needed to know what.
“No, Cheesie,” she choked as she started to walk into the living room, not even stopping to pet Gummy as he clamped his jaws on her mane. “It didn’t go as I planned at all…”
Cheese lingered behind for a moment, his mind warping and stretching as he tried to comprehend what could even have depressed her so much at a simple par--?
“I think I’ll just head to bed, Cheese, I’m not hungry enough for dinner.” Her voice called back weakly, sending a chill down his spine. Was she sick? Is she dying? Her tone betrayed a sadness he’d never heard from her before, and that scared him. Without a second thought, he ran into their bedroom to be by her side.
Once he was in, he saw her numbly flop onto the bed with a hollow pomf. He couldn’t see much of her face, but he did see as she bit her lip nervously, and he noticed tears starting to build behind her eyes. And she seemed to be visibly deflating more, if that was, indeed, even possible.
“Pink--”
“There was no party, Cheese.” Pinkie cut him off before he could start, obviously aware that she was followed.
Slowly, a slight, relieved smile crept onto the stallion’s face. “Oh, Pinkie, I know how it hurts when nopony responds to your invita--”
“No, sweetie…” Pinkie cut in again, lifting a sad hoof to silence him. “I was with Redheart, but it wasn’t for a party… it was an appointment.”
The hairs on Cheese’s neck stood at end as his eyes widened, and then narrowed into a concerned- yet gentle -stare as he walked around the bed to look her in the eye.
“Are you sick?”
Pinkie averted his gaze, setting his nerves on edge.
“Honey, are. You. Sick?” he repeated, tenderly extending a hoof to lift her chin so that their eyes met, but she still couldn’t hold his gaze.
“In-” She paused as the words hitched in her throat. “In a way… yes…”
Cheese leaned back a little to get a good look at her. She certainly didn’t look very sick, outside of the whole ‘Somepony is going to disappear’ look, causing him to quirk a brow. Maybe her sadness is the sickness?
“Cheese…” His ears twitched when she spoke up again, after over two minutes of eerie silence. “I-... we-... I can’t.” She chuckled emptily, lowering her head once more.
He allowed himself a rueful smile. Her cryptic nature was part of why he had fallen for her, but this wasn’t pleasantly cryptic, like the puzzles in the Saturday morning paper. No, this was something different, this was foreboding: like when the door creaks open in the middle of the night, and nopony walks in.
“You can’t… what?” he asked, knowing he was pressing slightly. He wanted to comfort her, but he couldn’t help her if he didn’t know what was wrong.
“Foals, Cheese.” She sniffed. “I can’t… we can’t have foals. My… my body won’t… won’t let me…”
Instantly, his ears folded. He knew how much Pinkie dreamt of being a mother someday, as it was one of the main things she’d talk about. She had even set up a nursery upstairs, with three little cribs: one in blue, one in red, and the third in pink.
“Oh… oh, honey…” he said softly, pulling her closer for a hopefully soothing embrace.
That did it. The gate was unlatched, and the tears came pouring out through a gut-wrenching series of chokes, hiccups, and heaving sobs as she cried into his chest. She even laughed a few times, albeit the kind of laughter that should never be uttered.
“It’s kind of funny, isn’t it?” She shivered. “Mrs. Cake is a mother, Cadence is a mother, my mom is a mother... and even the mailmare is a mother! I’m surrounded by mothers, Cheese, and yet I’ll never know what it’s like…”
A pit started to form in Cheese’s stomach as he listened to her tears, and soon she started to wail as her volume increased.
“I’ll never really know what it’s like, but I’ve sat in while they talked: they say it’s wonderful! And I think it must be one of the most magical things in the world, to be able to feel their first kick. To share a bond with them that’s unlike any other. To have somepony entirely in-*hic*-your care, whom you can teach your wisdom to…” She shuddered as the sobs started to wrack her frame, and her spent tears matted Cheese’s coat. “She just told me today, after the final test… that I’ll never know that bond. I’ll never feel those kicks. I’ll never hear their first cry, or laugh at their little burps.”
His throat stung dryly with hurt shock as he looked down at her, water starting to well in his own eyes. She finally looked up at him: her once shining blue eyes were dimmed, bloodshot, and tear-stained as dark circles hung beneath them.
“But… then again.. it must be for a good reason, sweetie,” she sighed in a hollow tone, maintaining eye contact as she rested her chin on his chest, and her hiccups grew stronger with each tear shed. “A-after all: who’d want a dumb, s-*hic*-s-scatterbrained, living sugar high with no-*hic*-sense of-*hic*-responsibility to be the mother of their-*hic*-children…”
She looked at him with a despairingly sincere expression that sent a pang through his heart. “... R-right?”
Cheese opened his mouth to speak, but the words hitched in his throat. How could he respond to that? How does one carefully yet effectively rebuke this kind of twisted acceptance?
“Do you… do you know what it’s like to grieve for a life that was never even there?” Pinkie asked timidly, curling herself up next to him for comfort.
Slowly, he climbed onto the bed next to her, tenderly wrapping his forelegs around her in a comforting hug.
“I do now,” he said softly, holding her as close as he could while still being gentle. “I won’t pretend I fully know what you’re going through, honey, but I promise you that we’ll go through it together.”
If he had looked, he would have seen a slight, yet sincere smile creep onto her lips.
’Together...’ she thought, the word ringing pleasantly in her head, slightly soothing the still ringing pain. At least now she knew, no matter how defected she was, that he’d always be by her side.
She still hurt, but at least the pain was slightly numbed.