> Tell Me a Story > by Synesisbassist > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > A Story's End > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ponyville Hospital. A beacon of hope in the darkness for some, for others it's their home away from home. The staff, always friendly and helpful, able to cure anything that ails you from a broken limb, up to some of the more rare and exotic conditions. But, sometimes they can't help everypony that comes through those doors. Sometimes things are far to gone beyond what they're capable of, and sometimes… It's just too late. Another day was winding down inside the hospital. A few nurses and doctors went this way and that way, some changing shifts while others were busy checking on patients or doing other tasks. While there was a mostly light rumble of noise in the main hall, down the eastern wing, it was almost silent even as rain started to patter down upon the window panes. A lone stallion was humming quietly, as whistling felt far too invasive, especially for the patients there, as he walked down the hall with a mop and bucket. Pushing the old yellow container by the wooden handle, wrapped by a charcoal wing, the older stallion knew his night would be almost done soon. He had one room left to clean, one that was occupied by a little pegasus colt for the longest time. The youngster, a light grey pegasus with blazing orange eyes, was always happy to see Swept Clean, the janitor. Almost as much as the older stallion was always happy to see the little guy. He was so full of life and energy, though numerous coughing fits plagued the poor foal, he never let that stop him from listening to a story or two. And Swept always loved telling stories, mostly about outlandish adventures, the heroes of Equestria, and even of a young Spitfire. “How do you know the Captain!?” The colt asked one day as the stallion cleaned the room, earning a deep, hearty chuckle and a sigh. “That's an old story, probably back when she was only your age, if not just a little older.” He started, ignoring the tied garbage bag that laid upon the floor for a moment, walking closer to the bed. “Little Spits was a fiery filly, full of passion, energy, and the most motivation I'd ever seen grace the halls of the academy. See, I was the janitor there when Spitfire was growing into the wonderful Captain she is today.” Sitting on the edge of his bed, the colt's eyes lit up like fireworks were going off inside them. A jet black mane that was cut short, barely hid the tubes leading to his nose, allowing fresh oxygen into them. “What was she like? Back then I mean. Was she as awesome and brave as she is now?” Swept could see how much the colt idolized the Wonderbolt, it warmed his heart and brought a smile to his face, even though the grey mustache that rested above his lips threatened to hide it. “Well, not quite. After all, she was only young. Much younger than any other Wonderbolt had been before her, and certainly the youngest in the academy.” Taking a seat, right next to the small pegasus, Swept glanced down at the name on the charts that hung at the bottom of the bed. “For you see, little Spark, Spitfire was an orphan.” Spark contemplated this for a moment, his eyes narrowing as that word rolled around inside his little head. “That means she didn't have a mommy or daddy, right?” Looking back up, searching for confirmation that came with a nod. “But why?” That was a simple question, but one that never really held a full answer, or at least to the old janitor it never did. “That's a hard question to answer as I've never lived a day in her hooves, but if you were to ask her yourself, I'm sure she would tell you. Regardless of that, she never let it hold her back. It just meant she had to go twice as hard as everypony else.” Be it instinct or something else entirely, the foal leaned against Swept's side, his cheek and ear pressed against him. “So what happened next?” Asking aloud, a small nuzzle following as he tried to get comfortable. Only imagining how uncomfortable and restless the poor patient must have been, Swept looked around for anything that might help ease the pain. When nothing came to mind; and his duties now ignored, a wing unfurled to pull the colt in even more snugly, the older pony hoping it would help. “Well, the academy couldn't very well enlist a filly to join the ‘Bolts, it wouldn't be right due to her young age. So, the Lieutenant, a mare by the name of Misty Peaks, took the fiery filly under her wing. Taking guardianship of Spitfire. On top of training and other duties, she also had to go through normal schooling just like you.” A hoof reached out to gently bop Spark on the tip of his muzzle. “And she worked her little flank right off, lemme tell ya, I coulda sworn she would've worked herself right out. But it seemed like no matter what they threw at her, Spitfire kept coming back for more and more. The Twister Seven Hundred? Mastered that within a few days. The Obstacle Course? A breeze for her. Math? Science? History? She was a little genius, she was. She whipped through books like she could cut through the air, I even remember sometimes catching her trying to sneak out at night to do more reading or practice.” A short laugh was shared between the two, then a third chuckle joined them. There was now a tired looking mare who Swept didn't even notice, standing beside them bot with a soft smile on her face. A pegasus with a very light tan coat, almost the color one might say dough is, extended her hoof after brushing a lock of her dark black mane behind an ear. She introduced herself as, “Sunbeam Aerial, I see Spark took quite a liking to you, mister. As you probably seen, he really likes Spitfire, she's his hero.” Leaning in to give her son a small nuzzle, the tired looking mare gave Swept a tiny one as well. “Thank you for keeping him entertained while I was gone. I hope you don't get in trouble by taking the time to-” Cutting off the string of apologies before they even came out with a raised hoof, Swept grinned, giving the colt nuzzled into his side a small shake. “It's no problem, really. Anything to help a youngin’ when they need it. But, I had better get back to work now.” Standing up with a small whine of disappointment stemming from the tiny pegasus, the tyke dug his hoof into the bed, thinking before his head raised once again. “Can you come back tomorrow and tell me another story?” Such an innocent question from an innocent foal, who's biggest dream right now was being able to see another pony aside from countless doctors and his own mother. Having a tie to Spitfire as Swept did, surely added to that desire for more, and, how could he say no? Glancing over to his mother for approval, the exhausted mare nodded which brought a fresh smile to the colt’s face. “I'd love too little guy, I'll see you tomorrow, alright?” Wings spreading wide, almost daring to fly and soar, Spark buried his nose into Swept’s side and thanked him countless times. With parting words, and that wonderful feeling of helping a pony in need welling up in his chest, Swept gathered his things then with a few final goodbyes, left the room. Hoof pushing his cart along the polished hallway, he could only think about what story to tell him next, if he could maybe take him to see Spitfire in the flesh, or get her to make a visit. With these and various other ideas flooding his mind, Swept headed back to work, looking forward to tomorrow. It would be much the same in the following weeks, Swept would save that room for the last one to do, even though it required a bit more walking on his end. The way Spark lit up each and every time made it worth it. They would sit, sometimes on his bed or the small couch that was tucked in the back corner. Most every time it would pretty much end the same way. Spark, his little grey body wrapped by a large charcoal wing, his eyes shining like the midday sun up at Swept, hanging off every word as the stallion recalled story after tale of the Wonderbolts. Hooves held wing, nose sometimes nuzzled his side, but that closeness was constant and relaxing for the pair. Some ponies might have found it a bit weird for the two of them to share these moments, and at first Swept kind of did too, yet, it felt so familiar to him. Another youngster he remembered long ago also sought solace from the older stallion, it was the first time he felt like a father, and he was getting that same feeling with Spark. He was a lot like a young Spitfire too, though, Swept would never tell him. She was his hero and the stallion would do everything to make sure that mare stayed the awe inspiring hero Spark made her out to be. “-then she swooped down, and by a feathers width, avoided hitting the ground and caught the newborn.” Waving his hoof through the air, he caught a paperclip he’d dropped from high with it. Spark laughed, coughing a few times very roughly before nuzzling back into black fur. “That was a good story, Mr. Clean, I really liked that one. Spitfire always knows what to do when ponies need her the most, and fearless in the face of danger!” Wheezing softly, Spark wiggled even closer, hugging Swept as tightly as his little hooves could. “You're super cool, I'm glad you're my friend.” Swept Clean had to blink back tears, his green eyes turning down to meet the tired gaze of the little colt who only wanted to be better. “I'm glad to be your friend, Spark.” Hugging the colt tightly, the older stallion gently rocked him, a hoof caressing his tiny back while he softly sang a lullaby Swept knew all too well. “Hush now little one, time to rest your sleepy head. Hush now little one, it's time for you to go to bed. The sun has set, and the world needs sleep. But all those thoughts in your head, that never keep; Away, away, keep these thoughts at bay. Oh Luna, watch over me so that I may; Rest peacefully, and wonderfully. Get a full night's rest that I desperately; Need I need, you and me, Will be friends till the end, and you will see, Just how strong I can be when I can finally, put this far behind me…” He needn't sing anymore, voice trailing off to a light whisper as snores filled the room. The moon outside the window shone down upon the two ponies sitting there, a pegasus who lived his life, and one who barely started, not related by blood or law, but found something in the other. Wing tightening, covering the little colts body like a warm blanket as he rested against Swept's side. “Good night kiddo… Sleep tight. I'll see you tomorrow, it's the big day afterall.” He couldn't let go, nose dipping down to nuzzle Sparks jet black mane, which smelled like medicine and other hospital scents. Giving it a tender touch, it almost felt for a moment that this foal was his own and in a weird way, Spark nestled in that spot that had long since been empty. The rain was the perfect set piece for this day, dark, gloomy and brought an off-putting aura linger in its wake. The hall was quiet, the door to that room Swept had become so acquainted with lately, was closed. Locked, as if to keep everypony out, but he knew better. A key ring, large and full of vastly different keys came from his side with robotic movements before a single one slipped into the lock. A soft click and the mechanism inside unlocked, the door swinging open shortly after to reveal a dark room, untouched in the past twenty four hours, and with good reason. Not a hair, nor feather lay anywhere in the tiny cubicle, not a speck of dust covered the table, the window sill that they had last sat upon. Nothing was out of place. And yet everything was wrong. There were no words from a youngster, who loved blabber as much as he loved to listen, there were no smiles to greet the aging stallion, not a peep, a grin, not even a desperate cough that plagued that poor colt. Nothing. Hooves clicked against the polished floor, the night worker had made sure not to leave a smudge left behind. The bed, neat and tidy, creaked under the weight of one, Swept Clean. A stallion with a hearty laugh and many stories to tell was unusually silent. Though, his grief could not be contained, as two tears dripped down the side of his snout, before falling to the floor below. He had seen families torn apart here before. Crying and hospitals went hoof in hoof together and yet, Swept never thought he would be one of those ponies. It wasn't his fault though, even as the thundering rumble of the fabled fliers of Equestria did a flyby, that only seemed to drive that knife even deeper. Sniffling, taking a deep yet shaky breath, A wing extended, held inside it was a folded piece of drawing paper, with his name written in crayon on the outside. His mother, dark and cried out had given it to him before taking off to parts unknown, he never blamed her. Unfolding said paper, Swept's eyes once again took in the picture that was drawn, clearly by Spark’s own hoof. The three of them; Spark, Swept, and the Captain of the Wonderbolts herself, Spitfire, were in flight, with big smiles as they zoomed towards the sunset, with Spark at the front. It was so simple, yet powerful. This was his dream, this was what he wanted to grow up into, this…. A wing wrapped around the crying pegasus, he hadn't even heard any other pony come inside. It was startling, but when that rough voice he knew so well shushed him, Swept sobbed even harder. Her hooves and wings brought his muzzle towards her chest, smelling of sweat and water vapor, fluffy hair acted like the softest of pillows for Swept to cry into. “It's okay to cry, Swept,” a comforting hoof stroked his back, “it was a wise stallion who once told me. Spitfire, the world won't play fair, it won't be nice or kind to you. And yet, no matter what comes your way, you've got to be strong for those around you.” Spitfire's words rang true, and he remembered that conversation very fondly. “When did you grow up, little Spit's?” Speaking softly, his own voice feeling foreign to ears that had so much silence filling them for the past few days. Hugging her spandex covered body, Swept took a few breaths before pulling back. There she was, a mare now. Fully grown and smiling, albeit sadly. Orange eyes dropped to the picture, her hoof trailing along the outline of her drawn body. “A fan, huh? He would've made it pretty good I'd say, he had the fight in him.” The janitor nodded, wiping tears away before putting his own wings around the blazing maned mare. “He had the greatest imagination, and if he never got sick, I'd say he would have been itching for your position on the team.” A snug hug, a coarse, bittersweet laugh, her muzzle rubbing against his shoulder tenderly. “Yeah, maybe he could have.” There was a long silence, the two old friends holding the other for the entire duration. Swept, feeling his despair leaving him, while Spitfire, holding a question burning deep inside her heart. “S-Swept?” “Yeah?” “..... Do you think he would've enjoyed our flyover?” A fresh set of tears, vision blurring as the old janitor nodded, the picture laying on the table beside him was the last thing he had seen before closing his sore eyes. “Yeah, Spitfire. I know he would've loved it. But he would've been even more thrilled to meet you.” Spitfire pulled back before rubbing her muzzle alongside Swept's, licking a few tears away. “We will meet someday, I know. And when that happens, I'd love for you to find us there.” He nodded, no more words needed to be said between the two pegasi, the rain, the tender touches, and the knowledge that up above, little Spark was waiting for them to join him, was all Swept needed to have right now. I'll keep your spark going little buddy, I'll never give that up.