> Rise Again
>  by Duck
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Resurrections
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 1



Resurrections



“…She did her best. I have no doubt that she did everything—everything—she could. Even when the world was against her, even when the people she called friends were against her, she did her best to do the right thing. She did her best. For all of us. Maybe if we did our best for her, she would still be here. We should have done our best. Even me. Especially me.



“I’m so sorry.”








Cold. 

It was a cold space, devoid of light and life. The air was stale, but touched with the scent of wood and flowers. It was a terribly cold and dark space, but it was far from empty. The space was lined with thick, soft cushions, and filled with gifts and memories. Pictures, notes, flowers, and knickknacks filled the space with love, sorrow, and regret. They framed the resting face of a girl with hair of raging fire and skin of palest amber. A single brilliant fire lily was pinned to the breast of the girl’s powder blue dress, custom fitted and elegant. A hefty tome with a sunburst design, the same on many of the notes, rested on her still chest.

It was so terribly cold. The only source of warmth in the tiny space were the diminutive droplets that dotted the girl’s cheek. Droplets that were slowly disappearing. Eventually, the last one sank into the girl’s skin.

She twitched.

It was an… uncomfortable sensation. Not quite like pain, yet not too dissimilar. That sensation spread throughout her body, starting around and within her skull and slowly, slowly crawled its way down to her pelvis. Her cool skin distended as though hills were rolling beneath the surface, displaced as misplaced and mistreated innards were shifted, reorganized from a visceral pile of flesh into an approximate interpretation of anatomical correctness. Organs and bones were roughly jammed together and crudely fused back to their original positions, growths of tissue churning forth to fill any missing chunks of flesh. Occasional twitches and shifts grew into spasms, then into violent convulsions. The girl seized and thrashed in the tiny space, tearing cushions, crushing paper, and ruining slightly wilted flowers. Eventually the girl went still once more, as she had been for the past several days. However, unlike the days passed, cloudy, teal eyes stared into the cushions that loomed over her, unbothered by the residue of glue that had once held them shut, invisible beneath her makeup.

Open eyes rolled in their sockets, focusing, focusing, then finally seeing gray cushions, gray clothes, and wilting gray flowers. She tried to gather her mind through a thick fog. Slowly, she reigned in her scattered fragments of consciousness, and developed her first coherent thought in what might have been ages.

‘What’s happening…?’

The girl turned her head. She saw a grayscale image depicting a number of creatures… humans. Yes, humans. ‘Just like me…?’ She couldn’t determine why that thought felt incorrect. These humans all had faces. They were smiling out at her from the thick paper. She reached across her chest towards the paper, hearing the rustling of papers, her dress, and a soft thud as a heavy object was dislodged onto the ‘floor’ on which she lay. As she examined the image—‘a photograph,’—she had a thought. ‘maybe there’s a human—a person—around…’ But how would she hail them? She couldn’t see any people, so they probably couldn’t see her…

She shifted. Her clothes rustled once more.

‘Sound!’ she realized, the fog of her mind clearing into a confusing mist. ‘I could attract somebody with noise!’ She brought her hand before her face, formed a fist, and struck the surface above her.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

‘This isn’t working…’ She wracked her swirling thoughts trying to think of another way to call for help—‘Call. Yes, I’ll yell! A lot!’ She squeezed her diaphragm and opened her mouth, but nothing came out. ‘Right, you need air, you dummy,’ she scolded as she sucked in as much air as she could, getting a hearty whiff of the stale, flowery air, touched with… something else.

“Aaaah! Ahaauah! Aaaaaaaaugh…!”

The girl screamed on and on until her lungs ran dry, at which point she refilled them with stale air and repeated the process. The girl eventually lost track of how long she was incoherently screaming and she began to lose heart. As she began pounding on the soft ceiling of her cold, lonely prison, she felt her desperation for escape overwhelm her senses. She needed to leave. She needed to leave! ‘Please, somebody, anybody, anything, please help me leave!’ A notable pain, a real pain, developed in her skull, tightening at her forehead, compounding her fears and increasing the ferocity of her struggles. Minutes turned into hours and those hours could have turned into days for all she knew. As her imprisonment grew longer, the pain grew to overwhelm all of her senses and thought.

At the peak of her agony, the girl loosed a feral scream, and a crimson flash burst through the face of her skull. The space was briefly illuminated in an angry red light before vanishing, leaving behind only some papers, wilted flowers, and a well-loved book.







She was cold.

She was tired and she was cold. Or was she tired? Hm. She didn’t know what she was. She didn’t know what she was, how long she was, nor how long she didn’t know she was. But she did know that she was cold. She did know that she was always cold. She was so cold that she wanted to die. Maybe she was dead?

“Hey, miss, are you alright?” a gruff voice rumbled with obvious concern. The girl opened her eyes, abruptly conscious to the rest of the world. 

‘Not dead yet, it seems…’ She found that she was lying in a gentle field of green with a dusting of white. Some of this cold, white substance—‘snow? No, frost.’—clung to her dress, which she realized was in fact not gray; it was actually a powder blue, ‘A good color.’ In the field, a number of statues and stone slabs and structures rose from the ground, instilling in her a haunting sense of permanency. 

The air was freezing, but the skies were clear. The sun was bright, but not warm. She didn’t know how to feel about that. She looked up at the person—the man—kneeling over her. He was an elderly fellow with steely silver hair. His earthy skin was wrapped thickly in what seemed to be an excessive amount of cloth, making him seem much larger than he probably—oh, right. You do that when you’re cold.

‘Oh, he probably wants an answer.’ His frown only deepened as the girl’s mouth moved, but conjured no sound.

“I’m calling an ambulance,” the man replied. For some reason, this caused a jolt of panic to run through the girl. The man stopped fumbling around in his pocket when the girl’s hand shot out towards him. Eyes wide and unblinking, she devoured a helping of air and tried again.

“Mnauagh—!” she abruptly stopped, retracting her arm and clearing her throat in embarrassment. ‘Words, girl, form words, c’mon…’ Concentrating, she took a more subdued breath and tried again. “Mnnooo…” she groaned in a breathy voice, sounding not unlike an exhausted phoenix who would have rather stayed dead. “…Youu don’t n…nheed to doo thaaaht.” ‘Ugh, my voice… I need practice.’ 

“Are you sure? You don’t sound so good. Are you alright?”

She inhaled. “Yesh. Nho…?” She held stiff, cold fingertips to her forehead as she slurred, “Mmy hhead doeshn’t hurt anymore…”

“Ah,” he nodded sagely, “I understand now. Please, be more careful, miss. I saw you laying in the frost and thought you were dying of cold or something. Think of all of the work I almost had to do, ha!” he laughed awkwardly, before allowing silence to reign again briefly. “Aren’t you cold? As nice as it looks, your dress doesn’t seem that warm.”

He was right, of course. While the dress did cover much, it didn’t cover her neck or ankles. Most importantly, it didn’t feel like it covered anything.

Inhale. “Freezing.” Exhale. She pushed herself into a sitting position, legs splayed awkwardly before her. She once more turned droopy eyes to the stony field. In. “Where amm I?” Out. She was getting the hang of this.

“You’re in the Canter City Gardens.” His answer was met with a blank stare. “The cemetery.” A nod of understanding. “I’m Old Flint, a grounds keeper. And grave digger,” he finished matter-of-factly, with some amount of pride. Old Flint unwrapped his scarf and passed it to the girl. “Here, take this.”

“Thanksh,” she spoke out of reflex, coming out as a low whisper. She wrapped the beige cloth around her neck and face, imitating how Old Flint wore it as well as she could. On each end of the scarf was an emblem of a shovel resting on earth. It was very warm. She breathed deeply and told him as much. The woolen scarf smelled of sweet smoke and coffee.

“I kept it warm for ya’,” he winked.

She hummed in both appreciation and contentment as she relished in the lingering warmth of the scarf. Suddenly, she grinned. “Ha. Ha ha. Ha…” she laughed with genuine mirth, not caring about how pathetic it sounded.

“Hm?”

“I get it now.” Inhale. “’Almmost made you work.’ Ha. Ha ha.”

“Ah, heh heh. I’ve not buried my sense of humor yet, it seems.” For another uncomfortable minute, the man listened to the girl’s pitiful, gasping chuckle. The laughter did eventually die.

‘I’m in a cemetery’ she thought, her grin slowly fading. A graveyard. A field for the dead to be placed in boxes in the ground with a monument in their name as a marker and reminder. ‘Boxes in the ground…’ she placed a stiff hand over her chest, feeling for any kind of—.

“If you don’t mind me asking...” Old Flint started in a somber voice, “…was she a friend of yours?”

She looked at Old Flint, a question on her face. He pointed to the upright slab at the head of her previous resting place. She stared at it, slowly recognizing the carved symbols as letters, arranging them into words, drawing the sentence and understanding its meaning.


Here lies Sunset Shimmer



May she find the peace that she deserved, but never found


Beneath the words was engraved a certain stylized sunburst. One that seemed so familiar…

“Sunshet… Shimmmerr…” There were tributes scattered at the base of the headstone. There were flowers, some wilted. Some were fire lilies—her favorite. Crimson and gold, just like her hair. ‘Just like my hair…’ She looked down at the withered fire lily on her breast. ‘I was surrounded by these in that place,’ she realized. Though they appeared colorless in… that place… they certainly were the same. ‘And pictures.’ She remembered the picture that she examined. In fact, it was on the ground right next to her. Sev—six girls, five of whom felt vaguely familiar, and one with red and gold hair that she knew—she knew—she would see again in a mirror.

The name. That emblem. The ones on the headstone. They had significant meaning to her. The girl in the photograph wore it on her shirt. ‘Wait…’ The girl slowly, clumsily, removed the withered flower from her breast, revealing the same emblem that it was concealing. Just like in that picture, it was red and gold. Just like all of the flowers that were in and on her grave. The connection (most of it, anyway) did not escape Old Flint’s notice. “…Family?” he asked, apparently taking the extended silence as approval.

He panicked when she collapsed again, clutching the dead flower to her chest. “Woah, are you alright, miss?!” However, his panic quickly faded then transformed into tenuous relief and guilty amusement when he heard her forlorn sigh, deep breath, and resigned, deadpan groan.

“...Nnope, I’m dead.”
> Third First Steps
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 2



Third First Steps








It was cold. 

The air was frigid. The cool winds, gentle as they were, might as well have been razors slicing through her dress. The graveyard itself was… not warmer. No, it would be more accurate to say that it was a little less cold. But at least Old Flint’s company beside her (and his scarf around her neck) was warm. His voice, though rough, was soothing. Comfortable. An audible presence to focus on. A reminder that, at that moment, she wasn’t alone. That she left. 

All he did was sit down beside her and talk. But he helped her think.

As her situation stood, Sunset was content to bask in the older man’s atmosphere, the eye of the cruel, chaotic storm, while she accepted that her heart had feebly quivered less than three times in the past fifteen minutes since she had laid her hand upon it.

‘My name is Sunset Shimmer, and I am dead.’ She lightly smacked the grass. She was actually dead. Deceased. A corpse. Or… maybe she was not dead. Dead hearts don’t beat, right? 

The lump of meat beneath her hand gave a single, pathetic twitch. Such a feeble shudder would barely displace air, let alone blood. 

‘…Well, I can still breathe.' Yes. Right. Dead people don’t breathe, and Sunset was breathing one-hundred percent more often than a corpse does. Perhaps there was hope yet.

“…But you’re probably tired of me talking, anyway.”

Sunset opened her mouth to speak, but realized that for the twenty minutes that Old Flint had been talking, she had forgotten to breathe. ‘…Crud.’ She inhaled. “Nnno, not at alll,” she slurred, “I l… like your v-voice. Please. Keep t... talking.” An awkward pause ensued. “Please.”

“Ah jeez, you kids just say anything these days. That’s good though, being able to speak your mind like that. My grandson’s like that, too. Heck, I remember this one time at his sixteenth birthday…”

Okay, she was dead. What point was there in denying it? She died. 'My name is Sunset Shimmer and I am dead. The only differences between me and a normal corpse is that I move and I’m not in a box.’ Sunset blinked. Possibly for the first time, she idly noted. Neat. ‘So... how did I get out of that box?' Indeed, to her knowledge, this whole situation is pretty impossible, beyond just being an animated corpse. Sunset felt the frosty blades of grass rise between her fingers. The ground looked pristine, if littered—no, that would be rude—cluttered with tributes and mementos. The only way she could have left is if she teleported—.

Sunset’s thoughts froze for a brief moment as she was barraged with information. Formulae, quantum mechanics, energy projections and thaumic algorithms; all manner of information flooded her mind, before settling itself into what her mind could only tell her was its rightful place. Yet, somehow, it felt as though so many things were hopelessly missing—gone with no trace, like a large puzzle piece with its edges cut off, resting alone on an empty table. To an extent, it made sense, but… 

‘Yeah, it really is impossible. There’s no way I could cast anything without a focus. The damage would be catastrophic...’ She touched her forehead, around where she figured the magical buildup would occur.

“What’s wrong? Headaches again?”

Ah. “Nno. Just checking if m-mmy face is s-still here.”

At that, he chuckled heartily. “Yeah, but it’s really just the breeze that's doin' it today. Otherwise, it'd be perfect. Either way," He grunted as he got to his feet, "you need to get warmed up.” She sluggishly bobbed her head in wholehearted agreement. “Need help getting home?” 

Home? Home. Home... a place with emotional significance. A place where you can rest. A place you can feel safe. Most people have them. ‘But I...' “I s… s-should be fine...”

“Alright. You’re not thinking of driving, are you? Don’t know when, how much, or what in the heck you drank or whatever, but you’re clearly not passed it.”

Drinking? Drinking what? Oh. That. “No… don’t have my bi...” A pause. “...bike,” she finished quietly, registering her words as she finished saying them.

“Good. Need help getting up?”

“Nno.” She shuffled her body, trying to get her legs under her, tilting dangerously in many directions in the process. Finally, she found herself kneeling on the frosted ground. ‘Okay, stand. Four—no, two legs on the ground, body upright. C’mon…’ She stuck one leg out. 

She fell.

“Uh, are you sure you don’t—?”

“No.” She oriented herself once more. Another painful to watch minute later found Sunset squatting on the ground. ‘C’mon, balance, darn it!’ She pushed herself upwards with her legs. Propelled herself, more accurately. Once she found herself in a straight legged standing position, though a hair too airborne, she felt her balance leave her. Soon, she found herself embracing the earth with her face.

Old Flint didn’t know what to make of this.

“…”

“…Yesh,” she sighed and sagged into the grass.

“Okay.”

While embarrassing, the help was necessary, it seemed. While really embarrassing, the same applied for walking. Her very first step was a stumble, and her second was technically a step, but in the wrong direction. With careful thought and a shoulder to lean on, her next attempt was a great success. Not that it felt like it, as her walk was more of a drunken stagger. After only minor setbacks, they were walking upon the stone path of the cemetery. 

“Welp, I guess you’re not walking home either,” Old Flint sighed. “You got anyone you can call to give you a ride?”

Now that she thought about it, she didn’t know anyone. Actually, she didn't know anyone. Sure, those girls in the photograph felt familiar, but all she had about them was that feeling: familiarity. Inhale. “Nnope.”

“No one at all?”

“Yesh. No, that is.” 

“Lan’ sakes, girl… You need to be more careful; you’ll catch your death at this rate!”

“D-done did. Heh.” Again she stumbled, but Old Flint kept her from falling.

“Oh, now she jokes… How did you get here then?” 

“I dunno…” she answered honestly, earnestly. “F-figure I died.” 

“Ugh, stop that! Can’t ya see I’m tryin’ ta be stern an’ angry, here?”

‘Jeez, how the heck does this guy walk and breathe and talk at the same time? It takes all of my focus just to do two of those things.’ She quietly observed as the man grumbled under his breath and began rooting around in his pocket with his off hand. Sunset didn’t mind the slight decrease in support this caused, as she was preoccupied with her own shock at his godlike mastery over his own body. A few seconds later, he withdrew his hand, revealing a thin metal pane. ‘But what is that?’ He touched the face of if it and it lit up with pictures, numbers, and other symbols. Not unlike some kind of magical—oh, it’s a smartphone. Neat.

He noticed her staring at his phone strangely. He raised a brow at this behavior, before his expression took a turn towards the unamused. “What were you expecting, a pager?”

‘What—? Oh.’ Had she had air in her lungs at that moment, she would have been snickering. Hopefully, her shakes and smirk conveyed that well enough. “Mnah. I w-was thinking carrier pigeon. Or dragonffire. Ha. Heh.”

“Oh har, har. Cheeky little…” After tapping a couple more virtual buttons, he held the phone to his ear. “…Hello? Yes… No, an hour. Yup… Canter City Gardens. Yeah, that’s the one… Thanks. Bye.” He deftly slipped his phone back into his pocket. “There, that’s that.”

“W... waht’s that?”

“Well, we’ve got about an hour to get you warm and somewhat sober before your taxi gets here.”

“’Tack-shi?' What—?” That's a service that needs money. “Oh. Uh. Cancel? Pleashe?”

“What, why?”

“I. Uh. Don’t have m… money.”

The elder breathed an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, I figured. That’s why I’m paying for it.”

In her shock, Sunset had forgotten what breathing was and the finer details behind the function of walking, As such, Old Flint was caught off guard when the girl he was supporting suddenly became dead weight, even more so than before. Looking down at the girl revealed her staring wide-eyed up at him—something that was unnerving for a reason he couldn’t quite place—and opening and closing her mouth like a landed fish. Eventually, she breathed deeply.

“W-what? No... Don’t—.”

“Don’t even start,” the man grunted. “I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I left you to fend for yourself when you can barely even walk.”

“But... s-still...”

He sighed. “C’mon, don’t make such a big deal out of this. It’s not even that expensive. Ah, see that up there?” he quickly changed the subject, pointing at the stone block shelter. It didn’t look too different from the dreary, monolithic tombs in the field, save for the lack of name and the 'Authorized Personnel Only' sign. “That’s the shed. We touched it up a bit to be our little oasis in the summer, heater in the winter, and refuge any other time of the year. It’s still just a shed—ain't got no running water, but... it’s something.”

“I... b... but...” Eventually, defeat robbed Sunset of the will to keep her head upright. “Y-yeah... it’s... nice.” Old Flint chuckled at his apparent victory.

With one hand, he pulled open the deceptively light door, before quickly pulling himself and his charge inside. Organized by function, a number of tools lined the walls, with a couple of machines and a steel box tucked into a corner. A soft looking rug was laid out in the center of the “shed,” and upon it stood a table and three chairs. Flint eased the girl into a seat, earning a satisfyingly relieved sigh. 

“I’ve been talking about myself this whole time, and I never asked before,” the old man said as he passed the girl a thick, warm blanket. The woolen, green cloth was worn and suffered an occasional stain, but it wrapped comfortably around her shoulders. He began arranging various items on the table before him: a spoon, a napkin, a disposable cup steaming with liquid from a nearby thermos. “So, little miss, what’s your name?”

Pause, a sharp breath. “Uh…” Uh oh. Fortunately, there was only one wrong answer to this question. 

“M-my nname's Sun—“ ’Nonononono—!’ “—nnuh… nny… Sunny. Sunny Song. Y-yeah…” 

Mentally, she tore into herself with embarrassed fury. Honestly, what was she thinking? Dead people don’t come back, fool! She pulled the blanket tightly around her before sinking bonelessly into the chair. Honestly, the one thing that you shouldn’t say. You can’t let people know that you're dead—!

Wait. Wait a minute. And the minute passed with Sunset completely missing Old Flint’s response and allowing an awkward silence to settle. The only sound in the shed came from the older man as he sipped from his thermos.

‘Why?' Her brow furrowed in thought. 'Why shouldn’t I tell people that I’m dead?’ Sunset seriously pondered. ‘What would happen? Perhaps not something good, but perhaps not something bad, no? Just because things don’t happen, that doesn’t mean that it’s wrong when it does…’ 

Inhale.

“…Old Flint?”

A startled cough. “Yes, Miss Song?”

Wrong. Distracted immediately. “Sunny is fine.” It feels better that way. Familiar. 

After a moment, the old man smiled warmly, “You got it, Sunny.”

She smiled back, before letting her eyes roll aimlessly around the room, simply being for a minute more. ‘It feels much better in here.’ And she was starting to sound less like sentient gravel. So that's nice.

Inhale. “Old Flint?”

“Yes, Sunny?” There was laughter in his eyes.

“Do you…. ever get s-scared…” Inhale. “…that a dead person would… uh… w-wake up?”

“Wake up? What, you mean like a zombie or something?”

“Zom—?" Zombie: a corpse reanimated. They might eat brains? But probably not. "Uh. Yeah.”

“… Keep a secret?”

She leaned in too far, her torso laying upon the table, strands of hair falling into her murky cup. She nodded eagerly.

“Every day.” He shivered intensely. “Everytime I go to sleep, I fear that, one day, while doing my rounds, one of them is going to pop out of the ground, graaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” he suddenly roared in an extra gurgle-ly and phlegmy impression of a something, clawing at the air madly. “And it’ll steal my shovel and say, ‘Now let’s see how you like it!’ and it’ll throw me in a hole and I’ll say ‘Noooooooo!’” he cried in a dramatically pathetic voice. “And then he’d bury me.”

Since part-way through the sudden outburst, Sunny’s body was shaking with unheard but obvious laughter. Eventually she breathed in. “…Burrry you?”

“Yup.” Flint sat back down.

“You—Haha heh hm…” Inhale. “You’re a-afraid a z-zombie would… steal your job?”

“Mhm and I’d be his first customer.” Flint sipped his drink.

“Ahaha—hm heheh. Hm." In. "Old F-flint?" 

"Sunny?"

"K-keep a ssecret?"

"Sure."

Sharp inhale. "I’mm a zommbie.”

“Really?”

“M-Mhmm.”

“Well then, you’re the prettiest, cutest, and nicest zombie I have ever seen. However, I must be leaving and I must take all of my tools with me and you may help yourself to my coffee good day, madam.”

“Ha! Haha! Ha. Aha. N-neverrmind. I’m not a z-zombie.”

“Really?”

“M-heh heh. Mhm. Hm.”

“Ah, that’s good. I’ll take back some of my coffee then.” He reclined in his chair. "Though I'm curious, why did you ask?"

Sunset shrugged, not really knowing how to respond. She thought to make something up before she caught sight on the true problem that had been bothering her, focusing in on it, grasping it through the haze. Her face fell suddenly. Inhale.

"...Old Flint?" Sunset whispered lowly, barely audible in the tiny room.

The man's smile faded. "Yes, Sunny?"

Sunset opened her mouth, shaping words, but then stopped. She fidgeted, adjusting the blanket on her shoulders, carefully picking up the untouched cup before easing it back down. Finally, she inhaled deeply.

"What if..." How to word this? "If I were... I just wanted, uh." Inhale. Steady. "Is being dead... bad?"

His brows pressed together, his mouth tightened into a stern frown. The soft thud of the thermos being set upon the table echoed in her ears, and she wanted to take it back. She wanted to go back to laughing and cheering, and smiling, and being confused but happy. She wanted him to be happy but now he's not and he's going to leave her alone and it's all her fault, 'all my fault—!'

"That's..." he stroked his hair, "...a complicated question. To me, being dead isn't good." She closed her eyes. "Yet, at the same time, it's not bad either—not really. It just... is. Being dead is just another part of being alive, really. Okay, well, not really but... hm..."

Sunset opened her eyes and searched his face. His eyes were closed, his head tilted back and arms crossed in quiet contemplation. He was taking her question seriously. It was nice.

"Well, life isn't good or bad either, really," he attempted to continue. "It has its high points and its low points. There are times when nothing is happening and when too much is happening. But that's what makes us better, I think. And death—well, not dying, but knowing you'll die eventually—is one of those things that makes us better."

Inhale. "B-buut..." But what if you're already dead? If knowing you'll die makes you betting in life, what about after? What is left to do if I have nothing left? 'What do I do?!'

"Ugh, my wife was always better at this..." he groaned in frustration. “Okay, well, how about this: the world consists of individuals, like you and me. Right here, right now, the shed is our world. Because we're in it, you see. Follow?" She nodded. "Good. Okay, so we're here. I don't know about you, but I think this world looks pretty good with you in it. You like having me in your world?" She nodded. "Oh that's good, because I was starting to sound like a creep. Okay, so with you here and with me here, our world is pretty good. 

"And that right there is it, really. Dead, alive—both could be alright or both could kick rocks in the future. But what's important is that we cherish each other now. Do you cherish my company? Be honest." 

She nodded.

He scoffed overly hard, insulted to the highest degree. "C'mon, kid, I said to be honest. Do you really?"

She smiled. "Yes!" she croaked.

"There! Well I cherish you, too. Our world is better because we're both in it. Take away either one of us and it'll suck, but we're here right now. Us being here and able to laugh and talk with each other is our gift to each other. You are a gift to the world, Sunny. You're a gift to everyone's world. And I'll gladly offer myself as a gift to yours, whenever you need it. So in the spirit of fair trade, please don't ever think to take your gift away. Okay?"

But Sunset was distracted. 'It doesn't matter if you're dead or alive'? What a novel concept! But it makes sense. People don't walk and talk and laugh when they're dead, but that doesn't apply to her. No, she is an exception to the rule. Most people are alive, but she can still enjoy their company—and theoretically, vice versa.

Dead or alive, ha! Such a trivial thing didn't even matter to her in the end—okay wrong selection of words, but still! The worst part about being dead is leaving the world behind. If she was still here, doing what living do... She was dead, but living. She was dead, but different. 

Yes, that's it. She's different.

"Sunny? Please, answer me."

Oh right, he wanted a response.

In. "Okay," she nods.

"Really?"

"Mmhm," Sunny affirms with a smile.

"Sunny, I'm serious. Don't go dying on me."

"Ha. ha." In. "Can't die t-twice."

"What the heck does that even mean, kid."

"I'mm a zombie."

Old Flint stared. He simply stared into her unblinking eyes, shoving off the feeling of discomfort they instilled. Eventually, his eyes softened as his smile grew to match her grin. He broke eye contact with relief (for more than one reason). 

"You said you weren't a zombie!"

Inhale! "I lied!"

"You're terrible..." He chuckled, before going quiet. "Hey, Sunny?"

"Yesh, Flint?"

"You're really gonna stick around this world right? Leaving early doesn't do anybody any favors." A beat passed, before a look of realization crossed his face. "Oh hell—uh heck, um—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I know that your—."

"Don't worrry." Sunny met his eyes with confidence. "Y-you're shtuck with me."

"...heh, thanks for the warning," he smiled and drank deeply of his drink.

The girl haltingly hummed in amusement and acknowledgement. As she sipped the deliciously bitter brew in her flimsy cup, she decided that maybe, with some humor and an open mind, this whole living dead thing wouldn't be too bad. But still, she didn't even know where to start... Probably somewhere around Sunset Shimmer.

'My name is Sunset Shimmer, and I was dead.

'Now, I'm just different.'
> Egress
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 3


 


Egress









Turning, tumbling, rising, falling, never stopping.
Fire lightning, coursing, striking.
Falling, falling, but never stopping, never stops.
A kaleidoscope of misery indestructible.
It will not break no matter how hard I turn it, twist it, it just makes it worse.
Colors swirl never fading, never ending.
Blue, black, orange, yellow, fire, raging, crashing, stop.
Wind crashing, snow falling, falling, falling, fell.
Cold, so cold, still cold. Colder and colder…

“...Darn it, the stupid heater is on the fritz again.”

Gloved fingers jammed a pencil against the car’s heating controls fruitlessly. Despite the dial being broken through a not-uncommon-as-of-late fit of rage, sometimes the heating worked. ‘Sometimes’ just wasn’t in that moment, apparently. Eventually, with a frustrated groan, the driver gave up. Sinking into the worn driver's seat, the girl tugged her hood over her head, tucking her favored red beret beneath it away, desperate for every bit of warmth she could possibly acquire. She looked at the clock.

'Any minute now.'

Cruddy car aside, it wasn't too bad a gig, as far as part-time jobs went. She got to put her relatively fresh driver's license to use, her uncle gets a much needed break, and she gets a much needed distraction until school starts up again. A much, much needed distraction.

Also, she got paid. Money is… well, it keeps her notebooks flowing and pencils fresh, so that’s nice.

Sending wave and wave of frost and snow.

“… just seemed to be pretty attached to it.” Ah, a voice, distant, but growing closer. “Don’t worry, we’ve got plenty! Tell you what, sonny—you come bring it back when it warms up and I’ll break out the good beans.”

Sounds like an older gentleman. Weirdly happy, though. She glanced up from her notebook, squinting through the slightly fogged window. ‘Yep, it’s the cemetery.’ 

A fog fallen, fallen, falling on—

The eraser rubbed.

—over my mind.

Better.

Blurring the lights, the lines, thick, thin, bright, dim.
Spin, spin, spinning, spinning.
Blinding, shining, so bright but so dim.
Is the sun rising or is it setting—

The paper was torn roughly out of the notebook, crushed and thrown haphazardly over her shoulder.

“Too depressing anyway. Ugh.”

Rear driver-side door opens, then closes. She tossed her book onto the passenger seat, probably a bit more aggressively than necessary. ‘Darn right you better shut that door, old timer. It’s colder than my mother out there.’ 

That was a joke. That was actually Granny Tempo.

“Alright sir, where—?”

A knock on her window. What? Oh, it’s the guy. She rolled down the window.

“Heeeey, sir… uh, what’s up?”

“Ah, not much, wayward souls and the usual stuff. You old enough to drive, little miss?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m older than I look.”

“Uh huh, well listen,” he discreetly slipped some cash into the window, rolled up. No way. That’s, like, fifty at least! “Here take li’l sonny wherever she needs to go, and you go ahead and keep the change, alright?”

“Holy—yeah, mister, thanks!” She tucked the bills into her pocket, then leaned out of the window and looked around. “But uh, where is the little guy—wait ‘she’?”

“Yeah, she’s already in there.”

“She is?” She turned around—.

Sunset.

A sharp inhale. “H-hi—.”

“A-ah!” No! No, no, no! What?! “Aaaaaaaaaaaah!” She threw herself against her steering wheel, binding up her seatbelt in panic. Awkwardly twisted, refusing to look away for fear of—fear of something, she screamed and screamed and screamed.

“Miss, what happened?! What’s wrong?!”

“Y-you! What?! You! Ah! You—n-no. No!” Through force of will, she tore her eyes away from the apparition before her to furiously rub them, hoping to dislodge the visages of the dead and broken so broken girl before her.

She opened her eyes. The ghost didn’t leave. It was real. “Oh gosh…” She couldn’t breathe. Trapped in a cold cab with dead girl. A  coffin by any other name. “I-I can’t…!”

Cold air rushed in as the door was yanked open. Hands reached around her. Click. The seatbelt ran free. Hands grasped high and pulled her out by her shoulders. Desperate for escape, she followed the pull out of the cab. Desperate for escape, she immediately struggled out of the grasp. The old man readily let her go.

“Miss! Miss, look at me!” She did. It gave her something to look at that wasn’t the source of her distress. But she knew better than anyone that just because you can’t see it, it doesn’t mean it’s gone. She dropped to her knees, refusing to look at the car behind her.

“Oh, Sugar, come back just for one day…” He groaned quietly to the sky. “Okay, miss, uh do you need help? I can call an ambulance. Do you need me to?” She rapidly shook her head (her whole body, really) in response. “Okay well, uh…” He fidgeted. “Can you talk? What’s your name, miss?” She struggled briefly, taking several short breaths, occasionally holding her breath, but never for long. 

“W-w—,” she growled in anger, but at nobody in particular, “M-melody. Watermelody.” 

“Okay, well I’m Old Flint. Miss Melody, you okay? Need any help?”

“S-shut up!” Watermelody shuddered with barely contained… fear? Anger?

“Okay! Yeesh, kid…” Watermelody panicked quietly, clutching at herself, her arms, her hood, grasping at air, eyes wild. The older man looked over the distraught driver’s shoulder. He quickly and discretely shook his head. It was a long, uncomfortable few minutes before she seemed to, quite literally, wrestle herself back into some semblance of calm. “You okay now?”

“Yeah,” she heaved with a shuddering sigh. “Yeah. I’m sorry, mister. I just—,” she breathes deeply, a deep frown on her face. “There is nobody in my car.”

“Um, she’s right there—.”

“There is nobody in my car,” she insisted fervently. “There is nobody. Nobody. And definitely not some dead girl.”

“Ah what the heck, did sonny say something weird again?”

“’Sonny’? ‘Sunny’…!” Melody made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. She glanced over her shoulder. Sunny was there, pressing her face nose-first against the glass, staring, staring, glassy eyes wide staring, cutting into her mind—“Ah! Shit!”

“Hey, watch yer—!” Flint floundered. “Ah crud, Look, Miss Melody, I’ve seen the pictures. I know they look similar, but Miss Sunny Song is not Sunset Shimmer.”

“Who the heck is Sunny Song?!” Melody hissed. 

“She’s the ‘dead girl in your car.’” He ran his hand down his face. “Okay, I think I'm getting that you knew Miss Shimmer in the past but—.”

“I saw her, damn it!” She’s screaming. She doesn’t care. Her words were punctuated by sharp breathing and she couldn't be bothered to care. “I saw her… I-I saw her fall-fallen—ground, found, on the, down—!” She buried her face into her hands. “Damn it! Damn it all…” She tore off her hood—she needed to breathe.

Flint opened, shut, opened, but shut his mouth again. “I, uh.” Shut. Open. “I… honestly I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. I, uh…” He thought to ask her about it. He immediately thought better. “Well, we’re in no rush. If you want we could just have another cab roll on over. I wouldn’t say anything about you.”

“No!” she started, before realizing her tone. ‘I’m on uncle’s record. He doesn’t even know that I... ’ “No, no, I can… I can do it. I—just give me a few… She’s…” ‘Damn girl, pull yourself together!’ She took a deep, not-quite calming breath. “You said that, what, Sunny isn’t Suns—her right? Then why the heck does she look just like her, huh?”

“Well,” he looked over Watermelody’s shoulder, and shot a quick thumbs up and ‘wait’ gesture, “she didn’t talk much about it and I didn’t ask, but she’s from out of town from what I can tell. Her sister or something, probably. Came to visit Miss Shimmer’s grave and passed out right on it. Can’t walk or drive, so… yeah.” He continues quietly, “She’s still kind of out of it, so, uh, don’t mind that she’s a bit… different. I’m not convinced that she’s all that normal sober, either.”

“Uh huh. Yeah. Great.” After several minutes of breathing, further inquiries going ignored. The story doesn’t exactly make sense, but it’s feasible enough. Besides, coming back from the dead would be pretty farfetched, even for Sunset, right?

‘Right?’ For her sanity’s sake, the answer was ‘yes’. 

Watermelody suddenly stood up, followed quickly by Flint. “Okay… Okay.” She took some quick, deep breaths. She turned around.

There she was. Pressing—uh… Huh. Pressing her face, her cheek now, firmly against the window, pawing sluggishly and fruitlessly against the top of the window. Their eyes met, Melody flinched. It took all of her effort to not break her gaze away. She was shaking, but not violently so. The moment their eyes met, Sunny stopped her gentle assault against the window, settling to instead press her palm against the window, too.

They stared. At first, it seemed as though Sunset—Sunny was wiping the window, but Melody quickly realized she was waving. Sunny was attempting to wave, whilst doing an impression of a flower pressed in a book.

‘Yeah, different. Downright ‘speshul’ is what.’ It didn’t take her long to feel the guilt of the thought, but it did remain. Melody awkwardly raised her hand at her hip, about to her waist. She timidly waved back.

Sunny’s cheek pressed further into the glass as a small smile jerked its way onto her face.

‘Weirdo.’

“Okay.” The driver took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

A hard sigh. “Yeah. Okay. I can do this.” She noted the still open driver door. Goodbye, heat. “So… her sister?”

“Don’t know for sure, I never really asked. I just kinda wanted to distract her, you know?”

“Yeah… I know. Okay. Oh uh,” she fished around in her pocket, drawing out the bills. “Here. I’ll, uh… This ride's on me.”

“No, no, you keep it.” Flint gently pushed her hand back to her. “You look like you need it more than I do.”

“I...” she thought better than to argue. “…Okay. I’m, uh,” she glanced around, then back to the car. Sunny was still there, just as she last saw her. “I’d better get to it. Have a nice day, sir.”

“You, too. Try to take it easy.” He didn’t leave. Probably wanted to make sure she didn’t crash on her way out or something. Great.

Slowly, hesitantly, she climbed back into the car. She fastened her seatbelt and, after a moment of hesitation and glance to the back seat, shut the door. There. Now she’s alone with her dead girl’s sister.

Awkward.

A deep inhale whispered its way through the cab. “Hhi.” A breathy voice intoned. A soft exhale followed the brief statement.

A brief moment of silence. 

“Hello.” Watermelody adjusted her rearview mirror to more accurately see Sunny Song. Her dress was pretty nice, but contrasted with her pretty plain scarf and that old cloak—no, a blanket—that she couldn’t really tell what it looked like besides that it was a soft blue. She didn’t see any of Sunset’s signature marks on her… Closest thing was her scarf that had a shovel on dirt stitched onto it.

Inhale. “I’mm s-sorry…” Exhale. Why does she keep doing that?

“Me, too. That wasn’t professional.” ‘That’s it, simple and sweet. You got this.’ “What are you sorry for?”

In. “Scared you…” Out.

“Oh.” She tapped the heat button a couple of times. Nothing. “Don’t worry about it. You look like Sun—somebody else is all.”

In. “Sunshet?” Out. Melody glared sharply at the girl through the mirror, who had a distinctly troubled line upon her brow.

“…Where are you headed, miss?”

In. “Don’t kn-know yett.” Out. Ugh, that’s getting old.

“Well, how about I take you down the road a bit so that your guy could stop watching me?” Watermelody suggested. “No offence, but a little creepy.”

In. “Oh. Shure.” Out.

Deftly shifting the car into drive, she rolled away down the street. The elaborate Canter City Gardens sign grew smaller and smaller, before suddenly disappearing behind other buildings as she turned a corner. The old man watched her the entire way. Now out of sight of the cemetery, she parked on the side of the road. ‘Not too busy today. Nice.’

“Let me know when you figure out where you want to go.”

In. “That'sh alright?” Out.

“Yes, miss.”

In. “Thanksh.” Out. Watermelody grit her teeth.

Less than a minute passed that way in cold silence, but it felt so much longer than that. Melody couldn’t help but fidget—she adjusted her seat, played with the heating buttons, smoothed invisible wrinkles in her jacket and gloves. A glance into the mirror turned into an extended stare. There she saw Sunny slouched in her back seat, disturbingly still, staring neutrally past the front windshield, unblinking, unseeing, unbreathing—.

Melody tore her gaze away, yanking over her notebook. She’d need a new one soon, this one was getting close to its end. Regardless, she drew her pencil, flipped to a new page and began to write.

Some— 

Eraser.

Without—

Eraser.

Sides of the same coin on two different planes.
But why does one side have greater worth than the other?
The coin flips, falls, flips, a gamble of my own making.
Yet no matter what, one side falls down while the other stares back at me.
Accusing. Guilting. Judging for a wrong that is nobody else’s but mine.
No matter what, I will always lose. 
I wish I never played.

Pencil scratching paused as Watermelody idly considered tearing out this page as well. She glanced in the rearview. Eyes widened and she snapped her vision to the side. Sunset’s face inches from her own—. 

The driver threw herself against the door. “S—Back off, what’s your freakin’ problem?!”

Sunny blinked, looked at her with wide eyes, and breathed in deeply.

“Would you stop—!”

“S-sorry! Sorry. Um. I was c-curious,” she finished quietly, looking down at the driver’s lap. “Wanted to,” inhale, “ssee.”

“Y-yeah, well just back up a little, would you?” Sunset—‘Sunny, darn it!’—nodded and dropped herself back into the back seat. Watermelody opened her mouth to say something, but realized that she had nothing meaningful to say. She turned her attention back to her notebook.

She had nothing to write.

She heard the girl inhale. ‘Great, what now?’

“Did. Uh. D-did you know Suns-set?” 

“Yes.” The young Melody hoped the girl couldn’t hear her teeth grind. “Yes, I did.”

“Oh.” Inhale. “What was she like?”

“You tell me. You’re her relative, aren’t you.”

“B-but I don’t know her.”

“Then why are you even here?” ‘Just to cause trouble? To torment me?’

“I…” Exhale—a sigh? Inhale. “I want t-to know mmore about her.”

“But why then?” She tucked her pencil away and shut her book. ‘She really is different.’ “S-Sunset Shimmer is d-dead. Learning more won’t bring her back.” A silent moment passed. She sighed. “Actually… sorry. I… That wasn’t appropriate. I’ve just been…” She floundered. “It’s been a hard time as of late. Not that it’s an excuse. I mean, she was your family, but…”

Inhale. “It’s ookay. Y-you’re upshet.” Sunny leaned to her side, seeking eye contact outside of a mirror. Watermelody deftly avoided it. “She’sh a part of me. But I d-don’t know herr. I want to know her bettter.” Inhale. “I w-waant to know what I’m missing.”

‘Wow, now not only am I guilty, I also feel like a complete jerk.’ “Wow that’s… I can’t say that I sympathize with you because… well, yeah. But you do have my empathy.” A beat. “I know that doesn’t seem like that much—I mean, my first impression wasn’t… er, yeah. But I do mean it.” Sunny smiled and nodded, looking thoughtful. Then she stared. And smiled and Stared. “Okay.” The driver coughed into a gloved hand. “So, uh, how are you related to her, anyway?”

Inhale. She opened her mouth to respond, but apparently thought better of it. Watermelody raised a brow. She was going to say something, when Sunny opened her mouth again. “Were you Sunset’s f-friend?”

‘Did… did she just ignore me?’ Watermelody tried not to let her annoyance show. “You…” she sighed. “No, I wasn’t.” She paused, then gently backpedaled, thoughtful. “Actually, maybe at one point. We came close to being… almost friends, I think. But then… yeah, it was too late, I guess.” The worn leather creaked as she leaned back into the driver’s seat, surprisingly at ease considering her situation. Still, she was by no means relaxed. "I spent a lot of time avoiding her at first, to be honest.”

In. “Why?” Out.

Melody opened her mouth then closed it. ‘Crud.’ “Well, the reasons varied, but ultimately, she just made me uncomfortable.” A moment passed before she shot up in her chair. “Wait, no that didn’t come out right. What I meant, uh…” She slipped off her beret and raked her hand through her hair, catching several knots in the green strands. “She just—I was nervous around her. I didn’t really feel all that… secure around her, if that makes sense.”

Pause, but then Sunny nodded. In. “You did ev-ventully?”

“Eventually… no. No, I suppose I didn’t. I do wish that I did. Maybe then things would’ve ended differently.”

In. “How…” Is she? She isn’t. “… How did it end?” She is. Damn it all, she is. Melody took a deep, steadying breath. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have—.”

“She fell,” Watermelody quickly blurted out. ‘Like a filthy bandage.’ “She f-fell off of the school roof sometime during break. An accident, maybe. She was dead and frozen when w-we found her.”

Sharply in. “W-why did—?”

“Let’s stop talking about it, please.”

“…Okhay.” Out.

Silence. Watermelody adjusted her beret, discretely glancing again at the figure of the girl in her backseat. ‘Somehow, this girl is wrong…’

“I’m surprised you even needed to ask about it,” she slowly probed. “I mean, it was on the news, in the newspaper, and got a little attention online for some time.”

Sunny turned to her and stared, but not at her. No, the void seemed to call to her, and she seemed incline to stare stupidly back. Watermelody, though at first intent to stare expectantly at her charge, impulsively ducked away from the wierdo’s unnerving gaze. ‘Somehow this girl is wrong.’

Inhale. “I know wwhere I want t-to go.” Out.

“Hm…” Suspicious. Oh well, back to business then. “Alright. Address?”

“Closhest li…” Out. In. “Closest l-library please.”

“Library?” Watermelody raised her brow as the girl in back nodded her head. “You know I should be bringing you home.”

“D-don’t have one anymore. Has booksh. Close enough.”

‘What the heck is that supposed to mean?’ “…Fine.” The customer was always usually right. It’d get her out of the car, too. After a brief search on her phone—which, by the way, seemed to captivate her passenger, the freak—she had coordinates entered, route established, and was underway. ‘This is going to be the longest short ride of my life.’

After a few minutes of observing the passing scenery with interest—wonder, perhaps?—she breathed in deeply. But then, she breathed out. This process repeated.

In.

Out.

In.

Pause.

Out.

Silence.

In. “Watermelody.” By the bard himself, hearing her name in such a familiar voice—almost hers!—sent an absolute chill down her spine. Hands gripped the steering wheel in a death grip. Thank everything that the roads were relatively empty this early around this time of year.

Watermelody breathed in. “Yes?”

“If…” Out… 

...In. 

“What w-would you say if I were Sunset Shim—?” 

The car screeched to a halt beneath a green traffic light. Watermelody did not turn around, nor did she look into her mirror. She ignored the way her seat jerked forward when her passenger’s body slammed into it. When she spoke, her voice was low, monotonous, and trembled with a strange cocktail of emotion that could not be explained.

“Stop. Talking.”

“OkayI’mshorry.” It was barely a whisper. Like the air was taken out of her lungs.

There was no response. The car resumed its journey. Sunny quietly peeled herself off of the back of the driver's seat.

In. “’m sorry.” There was no response. Sunny pulled the blanket tighter around herself and buried her chin into the scarf. “… ‘s cold.” Watermelody glanced at the heating controls, barely functional when she first sat in the car. 

Even less so after she broke it.

“It usually is.” She missed the heat dearly. She dreaded cold days. But at that moment, she was too upset to care.
> Ingress
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 4
Ingress




"... but Vice Principal Luna has refused further comments. These rumors are just some of many that have developed since the death of a young female student from Canterlot High School that rocked the city about two weeks ago: the first violent death of a minor that the city has seen in over ten—.” 

Click. The snappy, upbeat tunes of a pop station filled the car, replacing the world worn voice of the local newscaster. 

"Twily?" 

"Sorry, Shiny." Lavender eyes never looked up from the handwritten book. "It's just... It’s so sad. And it’s already been weeks. I'm tired of hearing about it." The fingers of one hand traced the symbols on the page at a steady pace whilst the other idly stroked a gently resting Spike, her precious, obnoxious, loving pup. 

Silence. 

Her eyes snapped up wide. Fingers curled, accidentally giving the pup a pleasing scratch. "I mean—I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I know that you... I meant, uh..." 

"It's okay, Twily," Shiny smiled, reassuringly, knowing better than to take his eyes off of the road. "I know what you meant." 

"It's just..." Twilight's hands moved indecisively. "Yeah,  I... yeah." His pale hand reached over and mussed Twily’s deep purple hair in a well practiced motion. He laughed as his adorable little sister floundered between helpless embarrassment and indignant annoyance. 

Shining Armor lived for those moments: the snippets of easy fun with the loves in his life. Two days ago, it was brunch with mom and dad. One day ago, it was waking up to Cadance. The current moment was helping his 'Little Sister Best Friend Forever', the awkward and adorkable nerd and prodigy, with her independent research project: the 'Unidentified Energy'... 

'Mystery Energy Encoder'... 

Uh... 

"So, Twily," Shining Armor began, "what was the name this project of yours again?" 

"The Enigmatic Energy Projection Project.” 

“Ah, that's right,” Shining nodded in remembrance, “‘Project: eep’.” 

“Yes, if I can isolate—,” Twilight stopped and turned towards her brother. “What? No. Stop that.” 

“Sorry, I couldn’t remember if it was pronounced ‘weep’ or ‘meep'.” 

“That isn’t what—.”  

“I gotta say," Shining powered through, "good choice on just cutting out the first letter altogether. Gives more room for any side projects, like ‘creep’ or ‘sleep’  or...” 

“Shiny, stoppit!” 

“Then again, some people might include  the ‘project’ part, and I’m not sure you want ‘peep’ noted as one of  your many achievements—.” 

“Shiny!” 

“What—ow! Twily, I’m driving!"  Shinor Armor laughed as one hand flailed in a half-hearted defense against his sister's embarrassed fury. Fortunately, experience taught him that traffic was virtually nonexistent in this area around that time of day, and training kept him on course. 

Eventually, Twilight did show mercy, but not without a vengeful poke to the ribs. 

“Honestly, Shiny, why do you keep doing that?” 

“Hey, it’s not my fault you have a thing for acronyms.” 

“I do not!” A beat. “They’re easy to remember!” She blushed. “It’s not 'eep’!” 

“Mhm,”  the Shining hummed, clearly unconvinced, earning himself another smack  to the arm. “So, how far along this project are you now? You’ve been on  it for a while.” 

“Not too far, unfortunately,” Twilight huffed.  “The difficulty of it all is why I broke this up into different projects in the first place, but even then I’m only on the first." She gestured, holding her fingers as though she were pinching a pea, despite the fact that Shining probably couldn't see it (he did). "I'm just this much passed where I was three months ago.” 

“That...” Shiny’s brow creased as he caught Twilight's hand torn between returning to the pup or fiddling with her clothes. “That’s a lot longer than your other research projects. This is just part one?” 

“Yes!" Twilight flexed nervous fingers. "Exactly! But all of my other projects have been based on something that there was already a foundation for. I’ve been searching for any other potential ties to other more-documented phenomena for two months, two months!" Twilight scratched Spike behind the ears. "I was half trying to force myself to find ways to explain the phenomena away for the last month—just to keep my own logic in check, of course—but everything falls through or hits a dead end or turns right back into—!" Twilight's rant tragically collided with a furious coughing fit as she choked on her own saliva. 

Shining Armor wasn't nervous. "Twilight—?"

"—Absolutely nothing is working!" Twilight cried as she tossed her hands into the air, before giddily giggling in glee. “It's so exciting, but crazy! So I think I need to try to broaden my horizons a little bit; I need to get just a little crazy, too.” 

“Oh yeah?” Shining Armor idly scratched his chin, and definitely not out of nervousness, as the library came into sight. “How so?” 

He saw Twilight adjust her glasses' seating upon her face—a nervous tell if there ever was one, despite the determined grin—as Twilight narrowed her eyes onto their destination. 

“I’m consulting fiction." 

'Holy crap, Twilight, you're such a nerd,' Shining Armor smiled genuinely. He was always happy to help his L.S.B.F.F. with her little projects. They were some of the few times that he really got to see her passionate about something. He just seriously hoped that Twilight found her book before she got sidetracked.

Again.





Somebody had her book.

Twilight had been looking for such a book for the last three days. Twilight's personal collection didn't have it. The two closest libraries didn't have it. That particular less-close library had exactly one out of three copies that hadn't yet been checked out. 

And somebody had her book.

It was a book so unremarkable that it didn't even get stocked. This library's three copies were probably a result of buyer's remorse or a thrice re-gifted mistake. The book itself was criticized for pretending to "do a 'science!' without actually knowing how to 'science!'" by a somewhat reputable source. It was friggin' self published for crying out loud!

Why did somebody have her book?!

Twilight analyzed the stranger that was lounging lazily on the library couch from her hiding place. She disregarded the neatly folded newspapers as irrelevant, likely leftovers from a previous visitor. She noted the strange girl's perfect hair, a beautiful, probably custom-fitted dress, the immaculately polished nails, the lackadaisical lounging on furniture you're supposed to be sitting on...

After taking in all of these details and combining them with the fact that she seemed neither overweight nor oddly proportioned—it was hard to tell with that blanket pulled up to her chest—Twilight came to one conclusion.

That girl was popular.

Twilight quietly sneered at the sycophant. In her experience, these kinds of people never go to the library. If they did, they'd be surrounded by undesirables, like geeks and nerds and people like Twilight. That must mean she's only here to kill time until her "friends"—they're never really friends—get here so that they could go be delinquents elsewhere. That, or she's hunting for targets. She's probably not even reading it.

The girl flipped a page.

Okay, maybe she's actually reading it. Actually, of course she'd be reading it. She wouldn't know good fiction if it became a cruddy movie. She probably pulled it off of the shelf at random and stuck to it out of some kind of petty pride. It wouldn't hold her interest for long. Maybe Twilight could wait her out...

...

But Twilight really wanted her book.

It was time to do something drastic.

'Okay, Twilight, you got this.' She adjusted her glasses, wishing she had Shiny and Spike around to console her (or to distract the target—everybody loved puppies). 'Just go over and ask her for the book. You'd be doing her a favor anyway! The worst that she can do is say 'no.' That was a lie. Any time she asked somebody outside of her family for something, they not only didn't give it to her, but humiliated her in the process. 

Can I borrow a pencil? Have a pen, it doesn't write though, oops. What page are we on? Ew, I thought you read the whole thing already. Hey, uh, could you pretty please do your part in the group project? Boy howdy, good ideer, Twilet! Ye're so smurt, take my part, too! Wouldn't want to ruin your average, ha ha ha! Ha! Ha ha!

Ha.

But Twilight wasn't so strict that she would call herself out on her own lie if it was to herself. Twilight took a deep, calming breath, counted to fifteen, breathed again, bravely adjusted the straps on her backpack and awkwardly shuffled her way towards her target.

"E-excuse me." She cursed herself for stammering. "I was w-wondering if I could borrow that-that... thuuh..." Oh gosh, she was pretty, too? Twilight slightly adjusted her footing. Save for Cadance, pretty girls tended to bring her nothing but pain. Twilight was as lost as her words, torn between apologizing and turning around, and... and...

What did she need again? 

"Book!" Twilight slapped her hands over her mouth. "Book..." She quietly groaned. Twilight glanced around, cheeks aflame, as though there more than just herself and the girl before her in a library during an extended break. 

The being before Twilight blinked at her outburst, disturbed. Twilight froze, stopped breathing entirely. Slowly, ominously, it turned its hungry gaze onto her. It breathed in deeply, taking in her scent, preparing a vicious attack of bile and fire and curses.

"Hi," a voice breathed.

"...Huh? Oh, uh." When did Twilight close her eyes? She opened her eyes and saw the girl, now upright-ish on the couch and even closer to her. The blanket pooled to her lap, revealing to Twilight that the girl was, indeed, physically superior to her in every way, as per usual.

That was fine. It was always fine. Nobody could match her smarts.

Emboldened, Twilight dared to briefly meet the stranger's glare over the rim of her glasses, before dropping her eyes again to the carpet.

"Oh, um, you, I, hi! Hi. Hello." 'Twilight doing what? Words use how—sentences!' She cleared her throat roughly into a delicate fist and tried again. 

"Hi." She already said that. "How's it going?" Oh right, the book! "Do you like that book?" There were no pauses between those statements. 

Twilight struggled to keep her hands still at her sides and oh gosh her cheeks hurt from all the shame. The girl moved her hand. Twilight's eyes tracked it, waiting for it to point—There! She's pointing at her, and now she will either laugh or tell her to leave. Twilight relaxed a hair, like one who is trained to relax before crash-landing does. She's back in familiar territory. But wait, the finger kept moving and her eyes kept tracking. "I... uh..." It got harder and harder to focus on it until... it jerked out at her!

And poked her on the nose.

"Ahwha?" Twilight stepped back in surprise, tears shocked to her eyes, and covered her nose in confusion. 

The finger retracted, standing before smiling lips in the universal 'shut up' gesture. 'Oh gosh, was I too loud?' The amber redhead bobbed her head. 'Did I say that out loud?!' The stranger sluggishly pushed herself a cushion away on the couch in disgust. "Ah, sorry!" Twilight apologized urgently in a low whisper. Honestly, she should've known better. 

"Sorry." She had no idea what had gotten into her. "A-anyway," she adjusted her glasses, "I, uh, just wanted to ask if... huh?" The girl stared up at her, expectantly smiling, as she patted the seat she just vacated. "Oh? You... want me to sit?" The girl nodded.

Twilight was once again nervous. Dread filled her very being. She looked from the couch to the girl's 'innocent' face, then to the seat again. Twilight really didn't want to... Twilight looked at the small tome in the girl's other hand.

...Twilight really wanted her book.

Braving territory she'd not ventured alone in years, she slowly eased herself onto the couch—'Wow, the seat is cold, what the heck?'—taking off her bag and hugging it to her chest protectively, her anchor. 

There. She was sitting with this stranger. A stranger who was staring at her. Really staring at her. 

A lot. 

'...Um, wow, this was actually a terrible idea. Maybe I should try again later. And somewhere else.' Just before she finished the thought, the stranger breathed in deeply—Twilight leaned away—and spoke, her voice barely a whisper.

"Hi." This girl sounded like she just woke up.  "I f-feeel like I kn-kn-know you."

"Oh, uh you do?" Twilight matched her volume, wincing at the girl's exaggerated mockery of her own stutter. Or did she actually have a stutter? She didn't seem too nervous. Twilight seriously hoped that this girl didn't think that Twilight was making fun of her.

Also, what? Did they meet before? That would be really embarrassing! 'Does she go to Crystal Prep, too?'

Inhale. Why does she do that? "Do you k-know mee?" 

"Yeah, of course!" Twilight immediately lied without thinking. "How could I forget you! Heh, heh. Heh."

In. "Really?" Gentle exhale.

"Yep," Twilight popped the 'p' to cover up her own humiliation upon realizing what she had done. Twilight opened her mouth to say more, but opted to stay silent and play with the collar of her sweater, because wow it was warm—.

"L-l-liar." 

And despite the warmth, a chill ran down her spine. Her heart clenched painfully in her too-tight chest. Twilight didn't look up from the zipper of her backpack.

"W-what? N-no I..." Twilight faltered. "I'm very sorry," Twilight whispered quickly. "I don't know why I... I'm sorry. I couldn't remember you and didn't know if I should have and now I just..." Twilight buried her face in her backpack "Oh gosh, just kill me now..."

"Shhhh..." Twilight felt a poke on her shoulder. Tentatively, she looked towards the girl. The girl breathed in, and Twilight cringed in preparation of the verbal onslaught. Yet, all the girl did was breathe out, smiling all the while. Again, she breathed in... then out. She raised a brow at Twilight and made a vague gesture with her hand. She breathed in...

"...Oh." Twilight, after a brief moment, decided to humor the girl, and inhaled deeply. As she did, she caught the scent of coffee and wool and some kind of wood and... something burning? No, something burnt. The girl breathed out. So too did Twilight. Together they repeated this a couple of times, watching each other. 

Inhale...

Exhale...

Inhale...

Exhale...

Inhale...

...

"...!" Confused, Twilight urgently released the breath she had been holding for an uncomfortably long time. Meanwhile, the girl breathed out easily with an almost-smug smile. 'Did I lose or something?' "W-what?" Twilight spluttered. "Why?" 

Inhale. "T-tried to kill you. You chose to live." The girl gave Twilight a proud grin.

"Oh. Uh? R-right." Unsure of what else to say, Twilight nervously chuckled at the poor joke and said nothing. 

The silence was awkward.

"So, uh," Twilight held her bag tighter, "what's your name?"

A unsure frown and troubled brow presented themselves on the stranger's face, and Twilight had no idea what she did wrong. After an uncomfortable moment of silence, the stranger nodded, smiled, and took a small breath.

"C-call me Sunny."

"Sunny?" Sunny nodded. "Sunny. Okay. Hi, Sunny." Twilight repeated Sunny's name in her head a few times. It would somehow be even more embarrassing if she forgot. "I'm really sorry I lied to you, Sunny. I just didn't want you to feel..." She tried to gather words with her hands, but they slipped through her fingers. Belatedly, she wondered why she was even bothering to try and explain herself to Sunny. It wasn't like they were going to see each other again after Twilight left. 'Too good for my own good, I suppose.'

Luckily for her, Sunny seemed to get the picture, as she gave Twilight a reassuring nod. Sunny inhaled.

"The book'sh alright." It took Twilight a moment to realize what Sunny was talking about.

'The book!' "Ohyeah?" Twilight tried not to respond too quickly.

"Mhm. It's..." Sunny's head rolled sluggishly from one shoulder to the other. 

'Oh... Sunny has a condition,' Twilight realized. To Twilight's shame, the thought that the girl before her was also flawed—no, not flawed, but vulnerable—in such a way was slightly reassuring. Almost like they were closer to being equals.

"... It's fine. By book shtandards." That was close to the expected response. "I m-mean. It's actually p-pretty funny." Inhale. "But it targets verrry specific readers. Assumes you have some ex-ex...perience with mundane physics."

Yeah, not much that Twilight would... "...Wait, what?"

Sunny bobbed her head as she inhaled. "Good shience parody. Based in factsh. But it's fake serious. Layered jokes. You wouldn't knoww it unlessh you kn-know it." Inhale. "Need to know some stuff for the besht jokes. The ending's..." A pause. "Y-you'd like it. It'sh clever."

"Yeah?" 

Sunny nodded. 

"Can I borrow it?!" Twilight blurted, then blinked. "Oh, uh, please? I heard about it online and I've been looking for it, and it's pretty rare because it was never really that popular so—," Twilight coughed into her fist, hoping it seemed natural so that she'd have an excuse to stop over-explaining everything. "So, uh, yeah..."

Sunny smiled and handed her the small book. Twilight received the book like a mother would receive her own child. Finally, the tome of questionable-but-probable inspiration was hers! Now she just needed to get away. But maybe just a quick peek first...

Inhale. "Why'd you need i-it?"

"Huh?" Twilight quickly flipped through some pages, just checking for things like damage, notes, font size, etcetera. "Oh, just a personal project," she offhandedly answered. It should only take about an hour for her to read it, she figured.

In. "Your p-p-pershonal p-project involves quantum mechanics?" Out. 

Twilight stopped, and looked at the girl suspiciously. Sunny didn't sound sarcastic,
she sounded impressed. She must want something...

"That's..." How much should Twilight tell her? Not too much, surely. "...potentially a part of it, yes." Twilight adjusted her glasses. "How did you know?"

The girl jerkily crossed her arms atop the backrest of the couch and rested her head upon them. In. "Read it. To the end. You'll g-g-get it."

Twilight had her book, and seriously considered just leaving before this girl could reveal her true nature. However, curiosity unrelated to the book got her to stay. She adjusted herself so that she was leaning against the arm of the couch, keeping the girl visible over the top of her book. However, as she read on, her lean slowly became a lazy lounge and the Sunny's bright colors blended in with the background.

Out of habit, Twilight picked out errors and criticized word choices. She resisted the urge to cringe every time one of the characters (and only one ever did) used a personal statement in a scientific observation. Once or twice she did briefly chortle at a cheesy joke—'Wow, not many people would've gotten that.'—before remembering why she was reading the book and moving on. About fifty minutes later, she gently closed the book with a sigh of disappointment.

"D-d-d—."

"Gah!" Twilight caught herself before she fell off of the couch. Sunny sat in the exact same position that she was in when Twilight started reading. Was she watching her the whole time?

"—Didn't llike it?" Sunny groaned. She looked disappointed. 

"Oh no, not at all!" Twilight assured in a panic, but then thought about what she just said. "Wait, I mean, I did!" 

In. "B-be honesht." Out.

"I... uh..." Twilight glanced back and forth from Sunny's face and the book, before settling on the latter. "It was... a little sillier than I'm used to. And, uh... their observations were a little, uh, unprofessionally recorded...?" She looked up, checking to gauge how offended Sunny was by her observation. Against expectation, Sunny was smiling eagerly—well, as eagerly as the lethargic girl could seem—and waiting for her to continue. 

"... And the progression through the story seemed pretty eclectic at times. Always bouncing, awkwardly doubling back, seemingly making stuff up. Oh, a few of the jokes were actually pretty good!" She whispered with excitement, glad to have finally found something good to say. "You were right, though, they were probably outside the realm of what the average reader would understand." Twilight flexed her free hand. "It's just a shame that some of the timings were awkward. Hm... 

"Both of the main characters are weirdly written, too. They always felt kind of... forced together, in a way? Well, maybe not forced. Just..." Twilight realigned her glasses. "Even when their scenes were at two completely different places. It just..." Twilight paused to gather her thoughts. "I don't know—they always seemed to fight, even when they weren't. Not saying that they weren't an effective pair, but... Honestly, what was this story even about? Half the time, Spin and Measure were just bickering with each other about stuff that was completely irrelevant to the rest of the book. Even in the end, they did the same big experiment and—surprise, surprise!—got two completely... different..."

A line drew itself on Twilight's brow, and she turned to stare intensely at the book. Connections were drawn, details originally skimmed over were scrutinized. Twilight opened the book once more, jumping to different sections, rereading them, now finding the subtle clues left here and there, applying it to newly revealed contexts. After a few minutes, Twilight shut the book, stared a bit more, and then looked up to Sunny. Sunny had a wide grin on her face and her eyes were wide with excitement. She wasn't even breathing.

"The story started with a stupid, wacky experiment. It got them bound together. And they're complete opposites of each other. Were they...?" Sunny nodded in excitement—threw her head up and down, really. Twilight loosed a breathless bark of laughter. "Quantum en—we're the real scientists; we were observing them the whole time!" 

"Yesh!" As Twilight quietly chortled, Sunny excitedly clapped her wrists together. 

"Oh wow, that's pretty funny! And clever." Twilight adjusted herself into a more comfortable position. "How long did it take for you to figure it out?"

Inhale. "Mmuch longer than y-you." Twilight blushed in embarrassed pride. "Half an h-hour after finishing. Maybe."

"Really? Wow! What was your first clue?"

Sunny gained a thoughtful expression and Twilight suddenly had a realization. Twilight was, at that moment, having an earnest conversation with somebody that she had only just met—a contact that she herself initiated. She was expecting to spend her winter break studying and spending time with her family; a little lonely, but content. But here she was, talking about a silly, random, utterly pointless book with a complete stranger. 

Twilight smiled tentatively, but genuinely. It seemed that, despite her best efforts, she was going to have another less-than-productive day. Oh, all of the work that she could have been doing...

Sunny inhaled. "I th-think I started to sushpect when... Hm... Oh! It w-was when..."

...But this was fine, too.
> Inquisition
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn't cold.

The thought gave Sunset Shimmer a uniquely pleasant feeling. She had hoped that things would get better, but 'hoping' had a notably different spelling than 'happening'. 

Sunny smiled. Sure, she had only relearned how to read on that very day—a few hours prior, in fact—but now that it had mostly come back to her, she was confident enough in her literacy for the metaphor to hold true.

There were a number of things that Sunset had relearned in the library. Reading, of course, was an experience. It took some time and practice to return to some acceptable form of literacy. Even then, it still took her a moment or so to recognize writing when she saw it. 

Ah, but words! The written word was such a wonderful thing. Any number of ideas could be communicated through them, no matter how real or how silly they might be. The written word was somehow so different from the words that she had been (mostly) speaking throughout the day. Relearning each word produced a special rush of information and brief pulses of clarity—a veritable beating heart in her mind. Beyond just that, some words written gave her special feelings.

Simple words, like 'a' or 'the' or 'and' and similarly simple nouns, verbs, and adjectives... They took her somewhere. Somewhere else. Somewhere surrounded by several other simple minds, awkwardly and remorsefully butchering every simple spelling, but being encouraged for every failure and praised for every success, ultimately becoming better for it. What a life that must have been.

Then there were the more specific words. They were seemingly random, but sometimes with a theme. 'Magic' was special. Seeing the word filled Sunset with a sense of wanting, needing, envy, accomplishment, superiority, and a permeating sense of being. It stunned her, how much a single word could move her. 

'Friend' had initially filled Sunset with fear, then longing. 'Friends' gave birth to hope, but then dread. 'Friendship' brought her resentment, then joy, then resentment again, but different somehow. The word 'family'... Sunset felt nothing. 

No, not quite. Rather, she felt an uncomfortable lack of anything.

The more words that Sunny learned, the more real that Sunset felt. Yet, with her dawning reality...

"Oh, oh!" Twilight Sparkle whisper-giggle-shouted. Sunset blinked. "And that part at the science fair? I thought it was really dumb, but now..."

Ah, Sunset was making herself sad while Twilight Sparkle spoke to her with passion and warmth. Appropriately grounded, Sunny's smile was revived.

Sunny inhaled. "Y-yeah. There'sh a f-f-few of those." She blinked. "Oh. Rright. Did it help your p-project?"

"Huh?" Twilight adjusted her glasses again, causing a strange twitch in Sunset's thoughts. "Oh, not at all. But it was nice to have a little break from my constant—uh," Twilight cut herself off. "Uh... Yeah, I mean—no, but yes. This is nice."

Sunset breathed deeply and smiled. Somehow, books had such a nostalgic smell. "Shorry I c-c-couldn't help morrre."

"Oh, uh, it's no problem, heh, ha, uh." Twilight cleared her throat again. "So, uh, you liked that book, right?" Sunny took a breath to answer, but Twilight cut her off. "Oh, of course you did! I mean, you told me yourself that you—I'm sorry!" Twilight's eyes were drawn quickly to the bit of couch between them. "I didn't mean to—uh, what I meant was—." Ah, Twilight was tumbling again.

Keeping the breath she took before, Sunny reached out and poked Twilight's arm. Twilight flinched, but slowly, tentatively met Sunny's gaze.

"I l-liked it," Sunny smiled in a way that she hoped was reassuring. "Why?"

"Oh, uh, well," Twilight adjusted her glasses. Why did that look so strange? "It's just, that was a pretty technical book. Abstract, yes, but pretty reliant on less-than-common knowledge. I was just wondering if, uh," Twilight pinched the sleeve of her sweater, "well, I never saw you at any science fairs, or conventions, or open conferences, or—or ever really, but..." Twilight adjusted her once-loosened grip on her bag. "A-are you a scientist, by chance? Or, rather, are you focusing a science? Or uh..."

Oh. 

That was a tough one. 

Inhale. "Pr-probably? S-sort of, mayybe." Sunny shrugged, as she had no other real answers. "Shcience is exc-c-citing. Sh-sht-shtim-sht..." An annoyed line drew itself upon Sunset's brow. "...R-refreshing." 

Sunset collected herself for a brief moment, then she inhaled. "I th-think I used to be an experrt..." Out. Sunny let her head fall as she dug deep into her own mind, hoping to find just a small piece of herself to fill in the gaps that the question had left. 

Alas, her mental scan bore no fruit. Even her search prior shed little light on her personal mystery, and what it did reveal was bleak. Sunny glanced at the newspaper, neatly folded upon the table, and shook her head in disappointment.

"...Uh, 'used to be?'" 

Sunny's gaze met Twilight's as she nodded. In. "F-f-forgot mosht of it, though," Sunset sadly sighed, losing the will to keep the breath.

"Wha—'forgot'?" Twilight spluttered incredulously. After blinking away her confusion, Twilight narrowed her eyes in... suspicion? "You 'forgot' science? The culmination of generations of human curiosity? No way." 

Sunset felt a chill. What did she do? She quickly took a breath and spoke shortly. "Yesh. Way. Ac-tually, more than th-that, I thinkk."

"Oh, uh, so what kind of expert were you?"

Sunny shook her head, suddenly unsure. Inhale. "I." A pause. "I?" Sunset looked away. "I d-don't know. It'sh just, I kn-kn-know so much. I used to knoww sho much, but after I woke up, I just... I remember sometimes, but...!" Sunny stopped. She wouldn't say anything else about things she didn't know for sure. Doing anything else would probably just make Twilight more upset.

That was unacceptable.

"I, I wasn't..." Twilight moved to touch her glasses—the feeling of wrongness caused Sunset to blink—before she apparently thought better of it. "I'm sorry, but..." Twilight stopped. Sunny watched on in confusion as Twilight's eyes slowly widened. "Oh, no, Sunny..." Twilight whispered.

Sunny's concerns had suddenly changed direction.

In. "T-Twilight, w-wha—?"

"I'm sorry!" Twilight breathed, hands drifting up to her mouth. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to—you don't..." Twilight sniffed as tears gathered in her eyes. "You don't need to—uh." Twilight's mouth moved, but only unsure false-starts. "You... I'm sorry. Forget I even asked."

Sunny's spinning concern blended with confusion. What just happened? Did she miss something? What was she even asking in the first place? 'Probably something about my memories.' It seemed as though Twilight had reached a conclusion of her own.

Whatever it was, it definitely wasn't the truth, that's for sure. Sunny breathed in, ready to correct her...

"O-okay." Out.

That was it, then. Sunny hoped that whatever Twilight was thinking about was at least close enough. 

'The truth might just confuse her even more, anyway.'

Sunny sat quietly, watching Twilight fidget uncontrollably, before reaching out once more to poke her leg. Twilight's teary eyes met hers, but looked away. She took off her glasses—.

'That.'

In. "Wwhy do you wear glassesh?" Out.

"H-huh?" Twilight finished wiping her eyes and looked back up, squinting at her. "Oh, well," she took a watery breath and put her glasses back on. "I'm, uh, I'm nearsighted. I could barely see you without them."

'But Twilight Sparkle doesn't wear glasses.' Hm. She breathed out, taking a moment to think of how explain that to Twilight. Sunny's face fell neutral as she dedicated all of her efforts into thinking. After another awkward moment or two, she took a breath. 

She stopped. 

There was no rush, no pulse, no shock nor jolt beyond the realization that the thought was completely natural. She didn't even realize that she thought it at first. Were there other times that she did that? Oh gosh.

Oh gosh!

She knew Twilight Sparkle! Blue eyes widened and Sunny smiled in glee. Watermelody had told 'Sunny' that she knew Sunset Shimmer, which was exciting, but kind of... detached. Unconfirmed. That was almost like a fairy tale. A really sad and angry fairy tale that you know was true. 

But this time, Sunset Shimmer told herself that she knew Twilight Sparkle!

Yet this Twilight Sparkle was wrong.

Sunny froze. What did that even mean? She knew Twilight Sparkle! Or did she? Come to think of it, Twilight Sparkle didn't know her. Was there another Twilight Sparkle? That didn't sound right, either. Or did it? Was that even possible? That didn't feel possible.

Or maybe it did?

...Right, so maybe she wasn't one to judge what's 'impossible', but just because one thing can happen doesn't mean that anything can happen.

Probably.

Maybe?

Forget it. 'Oh wait, I already did.' Sunset wanted to let out an almost-familiar bitter chuckle, but apparently she had lost her breath. She instead settled to sag bonelessly into the couch and softly flex her diaphragm as though she were.

"S-Sunny!" Oh, hello, Twilight. "Are you okay? S-should I call my brother or, or, uh, uh—!"

Sunny lazily raised her arm, then her hand, then wiggled her fingers. In. "I jusht realized. I d-donn't actually know yyou."

Twilight blinked. "Uh, what?" She tilted her head, brow raised in confusion. "Y-you don't?" Twilight adjusted her glasses. "But I thought..." After a brief pause, Twilight shook away whatever thoughts were plaguing her. She started, stopped, then shakily continued to extend her hand. 

"M-my name is Twilight Sparkle."

Sunset stared at the hand, unsure of what she was supposed to—oh! Social greetings! She could do that, probably. Sunny, with less accuracy than optimal, stuck her hand into Twilight's and commanded her fingers to wrap around the scientist's hand.

Sunny breathed in. "I kn-know that," Sunny chuckled.  'Ooooh, Twilight is warm...' Still holding, Sunset's fingers quivered in joy.

"O-oh? Wait, but I never..." Twilight, clearly uncomfortable about something, pulled away from the hoofshake. Sunny slowly shook her head. She breathed in.

"I w-want to know you better, T-T-Twilight Shparkle." This Twilight Sparkle might be wrong somehow, but she wanted to know how. After all, Sunset was pretty wrong herself, but she made it work well enough. 

Well, apparently not, if she really thought about it. 

But still!

If she could learn more about herself through Twilight Sparkle, then she'd do so happily. Even if she didn't make any progress on her own 'personal project', she'd still have a good time.



The quiet, classical tunes of the librarian's radio quickly faded in the wake of Spike's happy panting as the pup was fawned over by said librarian, Sandy Brook. Technically, the puppy wasn't allowed in the library, but Sandy would make an exception as long as she was 'keeping a close eye on him.' The little guy was still cute enough for the rules to freely bend around him. 

'What a charmer.' Shining Armor chuckled to himself.

After thirty minutes, he knew that Twilight did indeed get sidetracked again. After one hour, he knew that she'd just discovered something and that she wouldn't check the time until her stomach screamed in neglect.

As Shining navigated through the shelves, he caught the distinctive tone of his sister's voice.

His sister's voice.

But Spike was... 'Oh! Did she run into a friend?' Twilight had never talked about her friends before, so the social aspect of her life was always a mystery to him. Well, not for much longer! He quietly followed the nearby chatter, but his smile quickly fell when he heard how anxious Twilight sounded.

Then he heard the other, creepier voice.

"...to know you better, T-T-Twilight Shparkle," it croaked. Shining Armor frowned. 

Ew.

Oh boy, he didn't expect to have to be that kind of big brother so soon. 

Steeling himself, he discreetly peeked around a bookshelf. From his position, he spotted the head and shoulders of Twilight from behind the couch. She looked flustered, nervous, anxious. She was out of her element, and really, really confused for some reason. A mass of red and gold turned to reveal a head, a face—.

—Layer of ice and snow on the ground, undisturbed. Body: young girl, mid teens, fully dressed in season appropriate clothes, no hat. Red and yellow hair, long. Amber skin, blue eyes. Mark: red and yellow sunburst. Prone on back. Signs of extreme physical trauma. Right arm clearly broken. Both legs clearly broken. Reddish brown liquid around mouth—.

Sunset Shimmer: dead on arrival.

Shining Armor's heart froze at the sight. His eyes were lying to him. There was no damn way. But it couldn't... It had to be somebody else. Maybe her sister or something.

Sunset Shimmer: no known next of kin.

"What," Shining breathed, but louder than he intended. Twilight Sparkle must have heard him, as her head spun in his direction. He didn't bother with trying to hide, and stepped out into the open.

Twily looked relieved. And was she about to cry?

"Shiny!" she whisper-shouted, a forgivable sin for the bookworm. "What're you doing here? Where's Spike?"

It was time to play it cool. He approached the couch, rounding Twilight's side. "Oh, he's just getting reacquainted with Sandy." He placed a quietly protective hand on his sister's shoulder. He also took a glance at the dead girl's lookalike that was casually conforming to the couch. "A friend of yours?" The pale girl was staring at him. She was smiling, but it seemed... unnatural.

"Hm? O-oh uh, we just met." Twilight cringed. "Not—not that I wouldn't like that!" She backpedaled wildly. "I just—I can't make that decision...! Uh," Twilight fidgeted, and Shining squeezed her shoulder.

The girl breathed in deeply. That was easily a full set of lungs.

"Twilllight," she quietly slurred. "W-we're friends." She released the rest of her breath in a quiet sigh. A breathing condition? No, she wasn't struggling to breathe.

"Really?"

The girl inhaled. "R-really." The girl exhaled.

Something was definitely up. Twilight seemed happy, though.

"Yes!" She leaned into his hand as she quietly clapped hers in glee. "Yes, yes, yes! Yes, I'd like that. Thank you, Sunny!" 

Shining Armor strangled his own breathing, took care not to squeeze Twilight's shoulder too tightly, took care not to indicate that something was wrong.

He took a deep breath.

"So, Twily," Shining hummed nonchalantly, gaining her attention, "congrats on getting that cleared up. Mind introducing your big brother to your new friend?" 

"Oh! Yes, of course." Twilight cleared her throat, the same way she did for all of her presentations. She gestured between her brother and her new friend. "Sunny, this is Shining Armor, my brother. Shining Armor, this is Sunny."

"So, is 'Sunny' a nickname or something?"

'Sunny's' eyes snapped to his as her face took a slight turn towards neutral.

He squeezed Twilight's shoulder. She didn't seem to notice or mind.

Sunny breathed in. "Yesh." Her brow furrowed as her gaze, as well as her head, began to drift slowly off course. "No? Yesh and nno."

Shining produced an easy chuckle. "Well which is it then?" he probed.

But then Twilight, in an uncharacteristically bold move, cut in.

"Hey, uh, Shiny, can we talk?" Twilight put her hand on his and nodded towards the shelves off to the side. "Over there. Please?" Shining glanced again towards 'Sunny' and found that she didn't seem to mind or care.

"Sure." 

Twilight got up from the couch. That seemed to catch Sunny's attention. 

In. "T-Tw-Twil—."

"Oh, um," Twilight adjusted her glasses again, "I'll be right back. Uh," she passed Sunny the small book that she was carrying. "Hold onto this for me, please?"

"...Ohkay." Sunny's arm stiffly lifted and awkwardly grasped the book. As Shining Armor was led away, he saw the girl adjust her hold on the book as she brought it close to her chest.

Protected by distance, Twilight spoke.

"I think something's wrong with Sunny."

He heaved a sigh of utter relief. Thank everything that his sister had some instinct.

"Yeah, I can tell. Think it's drugs? Need an escape plan?"

"I—w-what?" Twilight spluttered. Maybe not. "No! Shiny, no I meant, uh..." She shook her head. "It's just, she's so smart." He raised a brow. "We just had a conversation about different interpretations of quantum mechanics."

"Uh huh." People talk about a lot of things while they're high out of their mind.

"It was a real conversation. It was fun! She knows her stuff—well, used to know. And even a little physics and chemistry and—."

"So, why are we here and not making her feel special over there?"

"It's just..." Twilight adjusted her glasses and brought her whisper even lower. "I think she was in an accident."

"What?" Shining Armor blinked. "What do you mean?" His face fell serious. "Should I make a call?"

"Maybe? Oh, no no." Twilight shook her head. "I meant, not today but recently. She moves like... I don't know, like she doesn't even know how to move. And she says that she used to know a lot of stuff, but she forgot." Twilight adjusted her hair. "You don't just forget science."

"I did." He remembered the books and tests, but not the science. Thanks a lot, Crystal Prep.

"Yeah, but—!" Twilight clutched the hem of her sweater. "She said she forgot. I thought she was just, uh, being humble or something! So I just kind of tried to tease her a little bit. But she got so sad and talked about how she didn't know anything or remember anything or—!"

"Shh, Twily, shhh," Shining lightly grasped her shoulders, giving her a slight squeeze. "Easy, Twilight, relax."

"She got so worked up," Twilight mumbled towards the ground, crossing her arms. "She thinks she was an expert at a science, but doesn't know. And with her obvious problems... I don't know what to do."

"Why do anything? Do you believe her?" He glanced over, watching as Sunny's body flopped onto the couch cushions. He sure as heck didn't.

"I..." Twilight pulled away, her brow furrowed in thought. "I don't know. I probably shouldn't, but I want to believe her and I want to do something, but... Oh." She adjusted her sweater. "You know how I go to science events, right?"

"Of course."

"And sometimes I get invited?"

Shining smiled. "I'm always there, Twilight."

"Well, uh..." Twilight adjusted her glasses. "She knew my name—," 

"—And get this, guys. Some of the collectors picked up a book. Apparently, our little jumper sent the book—the whole book!—back and forth between her and a couple of pen-pals. One 'Princess Celestia' and one 'Twilight Sparkle'."

"—so I think she was at one or something." Twilight shuffled her feet. "I can't remember if I introduced myself. I don't think I did. We were talking for so long though..." Twilight blinked. "Oh gosh, I made you wait! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... uh, how long...?"

"Oh, only an hour and a half," he dismissed.

"Oh no..." Twilight buried her face in her hands. Yep, usual response: total mortification. It was a good thing he lied, or she might have been distraught.

"Okay, I get it. You like her. She seems pretty interesting—." 

"Shiny, she needs help. And she's so much nicer than most other people..." What was that supposed to mean? "What if nobody else were around to help her?"

"I'm sure that she's already got somebody looking out for her. She probably doesn't even need that much help." That said, he didn't really want to let her go either, not without learning what her connection to Sunset Shimmer was—there was no way that there wasn't any connection—but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable either, or she might not talk...

Shining Armor nodded. "Okay, so how about we make sure she's fine?" Shining suggested, gaining Twilight's curiosity. "We'll invite her out to lunch with us. Then we can feed her, make sure she's fine, and even drop her off at her house if we need to. It's about that time, anyway."

"Really? It is?" Twilight checked her phone. "Wow, it is!" She looked decidedly more excited now. "Could we really? You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not," Shining chuckled. "Lunch with my little sister and her new friend? What's wrong with that?"

"Well, nothing, but—," Twilight blinked. "Okay. Okay! I'll go ask her!" And with that, Twilight rushed back onto the couch, whispering in excitement to the girl who was still pulling herself upright.

"Yep, uh huh, good talk, Twilight. Glad we cleared all that up." Shining Armor sighed as he, too, walked his way over, though at a much more relaxed pace.

"...wondering if you would like to have lunch with us." Twilight smiled, unsure.

Sunny stared blankly at Twilight for a moment before frowning.

Uh oh. 

She breathed in. "Sorrry." Twilight's face fell. "I d-don't have anny m-m-money." Twilight blinked.

Nice. Shining Armor intervened. "Don't worry," he grinned, "it'll be our treat." Twilight smiled, hopeful.

In. "Oh, n-no. I couldn't." Sunny croaked. "Th-th-that'sh your money." 

"Yep, and I'm spending it on you. What do you say?" Shining insisted. Still, Sunny hesitated. "C'mon, it's still the season for giving, so take the time to get some back. Live a little!" Twilight looked up to her brother in awe.

In. "I..." Sunny paused. "...I don't have anyth-th-thing to give." 

"You don't need to. But if you feel that torn up about it, I'm sure you could think of something later." 

"I..." Sunny looked down. Sunny looked up. Sunny breathed in, but then out. A pause. Twilight was about to speak, but Shining stopped her with a subtle gesture. 

Sunny breathed in. "I... I don't know..." Sunny made eye contact with the quietly eager Twilight Sparkle.

Shining Armor smirked. 'Checkmate.'

"I... Okay." 

"Great!" Shining Armor tried not to seem to smug. Nobody could resist that Sparkle Clan Charisma™. "I know just the spot."

"Yes!" Twilight whispered, bouncing in her seat. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!"

In. "W-wwhen are we going?"

Shining Armor brought up his right wrist, the one without the watch. "Right around now-o-clock, I'd say."

Sunny blinked, then sort-of-chuckled. "Ha, hehe. Okay." That sounded sarcastic. Or was it? No, that smile was genuine enough. She must be relatively easy to entertain. That was good. Shining Armor turned to lead the way. 

"Oh, Shiny!" Twilight called, "I'm going to borrow this book, too."

"Sure. Here," he held out his hand. "I'll take care of that while you girls get your things." She gently passed him the book. Orders received, he started walking towards the desk, but at a slightly slower pace than normal.

He heard Twilight the clearest. "Oh, do you need help getting up?" 

He stopped and feigned interest in one of the books on the shelves. From his periphery, he saw Sunny nod.

"Yesh pleashe. And wwalking, too." Twilight's hands went to either her mouth or her glasses, it was hard to tell from that angle.

"Oh wow, that bad?" He cringed, and Twilight did, too. "Oh, I'm sorry! I, uh..." Sunny halted her with a 'wave' of her hand.

"It'sh okay. It's just..." Sunny shrugged her shoulders. "G-gravity and I aren't on s-s-shpeaking terms."

Shining Armor's focus snapped entirely onto Sunny. She looked sad, but her small smirk revealed subtle humor.

Twilight just looked confused. "Um, what?"

Sunny just shook her head. With limbs only somewhat controlled, she slowly, carefully, stiffly wrapped the green blanket around her shoulders. Then her scarf around her throat. Then lifted the newspaper off of the table. 

It was the most recent paper. It wasn't headlining anymore, but Sunset Shimmer's followups still made the front page. If he remembered correctly, the most current article briefly notes the status of the C.H.S. and Crystal Prep fall-protection project, before speculating for too long whether the victim's fall was deliberate or accidental. 

Shining Armor's jaw clenched. They should just wait for the investigation's results.

"Oh, uh here, let me..." Twilight, at first unsure, rose from the couch and stepped with fake confidence up to the sitting Sunny. Before helping her up, Twilight gently coaxed Sunny's long red and yellow hair—'There is honestly no friggin' way,'—from beneath the blanket and scarf, allowing it to tumble down her back. 

"Thanksh."

"Hehe, no problem. Here." She offered her hands, which Sunny took. "Wow, uh, you're really cold," Twilight chuckled.

As Sunny was pulled to her feet and steadied by Twilight's frail frame, Shining Armor resumed his trek to the front desk.

"Y-you're rheally warmm..." Twilight's onset of chuckling was notably more forced and uncomfortable. Shining Armor was thankful that the path was within line of sight of the front desk.

'Who the heck is this person.' He thought to himself. Spitting image and within three weeks of the incident. No warning or calls—just showed up. Apparently so impaired that she couldn't effectively move independently. 

'I swear, if this gets any spookier, I'm going to scream.'

He walked up to the front desk and quietly knocked for the librarian's attention, eliciting a voice from the back room. "Yes?" In short order, Sandy came out from the back room, tan cheeks flushed and earthy hair mussed, with Spike cradled in her arms. "Oh, hey again, Shiny," she smiled. "Found your bookworm?" 

"Hey again," he smiled back. Spike scrambled from Sandy's hands, across the counter, and straight to Shining's arms. "Not this time. Just a nerd and her plus one." He gestured down the path between the shelves towards a struggling Twilight and a trying-as-hard-as-she-could Sunny.

Sandy sighed in relief. "Oh, so she's with you then. That's good."

"How'd she get here in the first place?" Shining asked, giving the excited pup a good scratch behind the ears.

"Oh, some other girl helped her in," Sandy hummed. "Well, carried her in, really. She didn't seem too happy about it either. She just brought her in and dropped her right over there," she gestured towards a bench in the main lobby, "turned around, and left. Poor girl."

"Really?" Crap, maybe there wasn't anybody looking out for her right now. "I'm guessing you helped her around then."

"Yes, I did. She asked for newspapers, but we only had the current as paper. She apparently has no idea what microfilm is."

Shining Armor laughed, but tucked that knowledge away. "I'm telling you, you need to catch up with the times! A smartphone or tablet will save you a lot of headache."

"I'll remember that for if I hear that yours got hacked," was the deadpanned response. "Ever since I left her on the couch, I was worried how she was going to leave. So thanks for saving me the trouble."

"Oh yeah, don't worry. Pulling you out of the fire, just like high-school." He placed the book he was carrying onto the counter before Spike could get too curious. "Twi's gonna borrow this one." He reached into his jacket pocket, drawing forth a card and some coins. "Here's her card, and some change for the newspaper."

"Alright." With deft hands, Sandy began processing the request—it was going to get approved anyway, but 'proper procedures' and etc..

"Oh, and Sandy?"

"Hm?"

"If anybody comes looking for Sunny," he nodded at the pair who had finally arrived at the lobby, "could you let them know that we took her out to lunch and give them my number?"

"Oh yes, of course." With a final keystroke, stamp, and flourish, the book was officially borrowed. "There. Let's try to get this one back without chemical stains." Twilight was mortified, but Shining only laughed.

"That was definitely not our fault."

"Uh huh. Get outta here, Shiny."

"Bye, Miss Sandy Brook!"

"Bye, Twilight. I'll see you again soon, I'm sure."

Inhale. "Bye! Thanksh f-for everything." Exhale.

"Uh, it was no problem, really. Goodbye—er, I mean, come back anytime."

As Shining walked back into the brisk air, he noticed that Spike was trying to burrow into his jacket. "What's up, little guy?"

He then realized that Spike was, for once, silent. But he's usually so...

'...No way.'

Shining called over his shoulder, "Hey, you girls hang out there. I'll come around with the car." Acting as though he were waiting for a response, he turned around to allow the pup to face them.

Spike scrambled out of his arms, immediately ducking behind his leg, the barrier between the pup and Twilight.

No, Twilight's stranger. 

No. No way. Was Spike afraid of Sunny?

"Okay, we'll be here!"

"Th-thanksh Sh-Shining Armorrr!"

Spike whimpered.

Shining Armor was gonna scream.



>Gil: sup dash

Rainbow Dash unlocked her phone as she walked up the bleak stone path.

>You: Nm u?

>Gil: pissed af
fukn cops finally let me go
where u at

Rainbow Dash followed the cold stones, following the path that she had found herself walking often as of late. She brushed the knuckles of her free hand against a cold marble pillar.

>You: Visitin SS

>Gil: call when ur free
well hang
ttyl
bitch

Rainbow couldn't help but smile.

>You: Your paying
Asshat

Rainbow put away her phone, ignoring the brief burst of notifications that vibrated against her leg, and continued on the path. After a few more minutes of walking, she turned down the row of headstones that she knew would bring her right to her destination. Indeed, not one-hundred feet away was...

...What the heck?

She sprinted the remaining distance to the grave, seeing more and more trash flung around the sacred site. Was it more of Sunset's enemies? Resentful families? How did they even find her grave? It was a private burial! But as she got closer, she saw that the clutter wasn't trash, but mementos.

She slowed down.

Notes, cards, letters, pictures, and more fire lilies—most of them seeming to have long been wilted—than she remembered leaving were scattered on her grave. This... They found out where she was buried, and left tributes. That...

That was sweet. 

Rainbow Dash decided to clean up the grave a bit before she got to her daily ritual of talking to the air. With care and reverence, she started to pick up each memento. She started with a note. It seemed like it was from Sweetie... Belle...

There was a note decorated with apple stickers. And one in Scootaloo's chicken-scratch handwriting. And a couple of pages of sheet music and a snail shell and a comb and hand wraps and several old playing cards—!

Rainbow Dash dropped to her knees and immediately began seeking out pictures—any pictures!—and found pictures of Sunset and Rarity trying on clothes, and Sunset and Rainbow Dash playing soccer, and Sunset on the farm, and Sunset at the shelter and Sunset their lunch table and at the Sweet Shoppe—.

Rainbow's wide eyes were wet with tears, her heat was pounding harder than it ever had before. Yet, there was the coldest of ice in her veins and yet still she was sweating. She was gasping for air, yet she couldn't breathe. She couldn't breath, couldn't feel, couldn't see—!

She saw it.

'What...!' A shaky had reached out to the headstone. Slower and slower, yet as fast as she could, she reached. Even then, she hovered over her target. She tentatively pinched it between her fingers, as though it might disappear. 

It didn't.

In calloused hands and a delicate grasp, Rainbow Dash held her lucky guitar pick.

When she went to her first concert at the tender age of seven, the lead guitarist threw his pick into the crowd. Atop her father's shoulders, she caught it. The guitarist met her eyes and winked. The next day, her dad gave her her first guitar.

She loved that guitar. And she cherished that pick. She swore that when she had her first concert, she would play it with that guitar. She swore that when she became famous, she would do so using that pick.

Then Sunset died. She died because Rainbow wasn't there. She died and Rainbow could have stopped it. If she had been there... If Dash could have somehow made Sunset understand that, if Sunset thought that she were in danger, she still would've been there for her, then maybe Sunset wouldn't have been on that damn roof. 

Heck, if she hadn't decided treat the girls to some stupid ice-cream right after school, she probably would've still been there! She could have flown up and caught her, and they could've kicked her killer's ass together!

But she didn't. She wasn't and she didn't. For all that Dash cared, she was no better than whoever killed Sunset.

So, since Rainbow threw away Sunset's life, she gave away her dreams. When she said her goodbyes to Sunset, she gave Sunset her lucky pick. 

She put that pick and several of the now-scattered tributes into Sunset's coffin herself.

All of them.

Rainbow Dash looked helplessly at all of the mementos around her. The ground was untouched, disturbingly undisturbed, yet their gifts were expelled from the grave, as though through magic. 

That wasn't impossible.

Was this a sign? Was all of their sorrow and grief unwanted?

Did Sunset reject their friendship from beyond the grave?

Did Sunset hate them that much?

Did Sunset hate her that much?

With tears streaming down her face, Rainbow Dash cradled the tiny pick to her heaving chest. 

She laid her head on Sunset's grave and screamed.
> Wilted
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rainbow Dash laid on her side, curled up on the grass of Sunset's grave.

She had screamed and shouted herself hoarse. Her fists were cold and bruised from her unplanned assault on the almost-frozen earth. Her eyes were ruddy and raw, and no matter how many times she rubbed or wiped them, they were always wet.

Her cheeks, lips, and chin were wet. Her sleeves were soaked in tears and snot. Her hat was gone with the gentle breeze. She was cold. Everything ached.

Rainbow was spent.

"I'm sorry, Sunset," Rainbow mumbled into the cold grass. "I really hope that..." She lifted her head, gazing sadly at the haphazard pile of mementos. "Please, don't let me—." Dash closed her eyes with a grimace.

"I'm sorry, Sunset. Please forgive me. Please." Dash allowed her heavy head to gently fall back to the ground. "Please." Idly, as though she were waiting for a response, Rainbow Dash began plucking blades of grass. Each pluck was like the hand of a clock. Her ideal clock. One that ticked when she wanted it to. Four. Five. Six—.

Rainbow Dash grabbed a fistful of grass and pulled. Gently opening her hand, she watched as each blade drifted to the ground.

Her lucky guitar pick fell free from the grooves it carved into her palm.

Rainbow stared at it, hand hovering in hesitation. That stupid piece of plastic looked just as heavy as it was when Rainbow gave it up to Sunset. 

'C'mon girl, don't be a wimp.' Steeling herself, she gently picked it up and reverently slipped it into her pocket, snugly pressed against her wallet.

Dash took a deep breath.

"Screw everything."

She just needed to get on with the rest of her day. Sunset's problems weren't gonna solve themselves. Not anymore.

To her credit, it took only a few seconds to work up the will to stand. Once back on her feet, she looked down at the tributes on the grave. After a brief moment of thought, she resumed her task of picking them up. She didn't have a way to properly carry them, but she did have a case on her bike. Until then, a makeshift satchel formed out of her hoodie would have to do. Sure, she'd be a bit cold for a while, but that was fine. She was overdue for some suffering, anyway.

If Sunset wanted to send this junk back, then the least that Rainbow could do was deliver. 

She tied the wet sleeves together and cradled the package in her arms. With the gifts safely wrapped up, Rainbow Dash began to walk away, but stopped. Just like every other day since the burial, she turned back, hesitating to leave Sunset behind. 

"I..." She forgot what she was going to say when she rode in that morning—oh. Right. "Twilight's still pretty stressed. Her visits keep getting shorter. I mean, it's not like she has many people to talk to anymore, but... still. But she probably told you more than she told me." Dash paused for a moment. "I still haven't found out who killed you. I haven't even found Anon-a-Miss. Was I always this dumb? Was this how I always looked to you?" Rainbow Dash stopped to breathe, as though waiting for a response. "...I'm sorry, Sunset, I'm pretty bad company right now. I should go. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

A proper goodbye given, she began her trek back, running through the list of people she needed to return the tributes to. She'd probably start with Applejack. With how hard Applejack's been working since the news, Dash generally knew where the farmer would be at any given point of the day. She could also drop off Apple Bloom's card, too. She could give the pictures to Pinkie. They'd never get lost, then. Sure, they were just prints of pics that they all had, but these prints were kinda special. Probably. Sweetie Belle would have to get her card back directly and...

Dash blinked. 

'How am I going to get these back to everybody else without pissing them off?' The girls would be easy: just pass it over and explain what happened. They'd seen enough to know it was true. But what about the others? Snips and Snails might buy it at face value, but everybody else? Hm...

Screw it, it was magic. What else could she possibly say? They've been around Sunset long enough to know that's a real answer. If they have a problem accepting the truth, then let them wallow in denial. With a firm nod, Rainbow had a plan.  

From the corner of her eye, she saw that one of the tomb-things were open. An old guy was struggling to move some sacks off of a probably-just-as-old truck.

...She could probably spare a couple minutes.

Rainbow Dash veered off course towards the old man and the truck.

"Hey," Dash called. "Need a hand?"

"Huh?" The man grunted as he dragged another sack off of the truck's bed, lifting it onto his shoulder. "Oh nah, missy, but thanks for the offer."

But Dash was already moving. She idly noted that the tomb was actually a work shed, judging by the tools and machines stored inside. She eased her package onto the side of the path and was behind the truck before he could protest any further. "With the others inside, right?"

"Er, yeah, but honestly you don't have to—."

"Are you joking? I wouldn't want you to throw your back out or something, old man."

"Gee, thanks," he deadpanned, quickly unamused. "Just stack it inside with the rest of the ice-melt. Kids these days..." Heh. Score one for Dash. At least now she could say that she did something right that day. 

They worked in relative silence for about thirty seconds.

"Hey, miss," the old man began, "thanks again for helping me out here. We needed to stock up on this stuff before the freeze next week, and uh..." He chuckled. "Well, I guess I don't trust the other guys to do it."

"Hey, it's no big!" Dash replied with some amount of deliberate cheer. "It's not like I could just leave you hangin'."

"Well ain't you a model citizen." The old man grinned. "Say, I feel like I've seen you somewhere." Dash hefted another sack down onto the stack and smirked confidently at the old-timer, belatedly remembering how much of a gross mess that she was. What an image that must have been. 

"Yeah, I get that a lot." She kept up her momentum, pacing back to the truck. With the pace she was moving at, this guy would be set in no time. She grunted, hefting another heavy sack onto her shoulder. "Having the best hair in the world makes me hard to forget." 

"Ha, I bet!" the man laughed. Awesome. He hefted one sack of his own. "But no really, I think I've seen you recently." 

Recently? She'd never seen that guy before. When would—?

Oh. He worked there.

Her slowly rising mood effectively killed, Rainbow Dash's face fell from humor to bland interest.

"Yeah," she sighed,  "I visit a friend." 

"Mm. It's good of you to come. I'm glad your friend still has you to keep them company—Oh!" He started a new stack in the pile. There were only a few sacks left to go. "I remember now. Would you happen to know Miss Sunny Song?"

Sunny who? Didn't know, didn't care. "Nope." Only two left. She grabbed one and he got the other.

"Darn," he sighed, carrying his load into the tool-tomb. "She left a lot of things at the grave she was visiting, and I don't think they'd survive the day. Lotta paper and stuff. I'd pack it up myself, but policy says 'that's a termination.'"

"Mhm." With a sigh, she heaved the last sack onto the pile. Rolling her shoulders, she idly looked around. 'Is this where old tools go to die?'

"Ah..." the old guy sighed in relief. She could almost hear the bones in his back creak as he stretched. "Well thanks again for the help, miss. That was kind of you."

"Eh, don't worry about it," Rainbow Dash shrugged. "All in a day's work. Catch you around, old-timer." Rainbow stepped out of the shed, the old man following behind and shutting the door behind him. As she returned to her makeshift pack, Rainbow had a thought. "Hey, uh..." Rainbow Dash picked up her package. "My friend's grave..." 

To her credit, she almost didn't hesitate. Those words still felt alien to her. Not incorrect, but wrong. 

"Hm? Ah, is it due for some cleaning?"

"Uh, no, not anymore, but..." Rainbow idly rolled her shoulder. "Uh, how long have you been here?" 

He finally managed to slam the tailgate to the old truck shut. "I've been around since about seven-thirty the morn'. Why?"

"Oh, well..." C'mon Dash, just talk to the guy. "...There was a mess on my friend's grave that wasn't there yesterday. There was stuff everywhere and I was wondering if you knew when it showed up."

"Was it Sunset Shimmer's grave?"

Rainbow Dash blinked. "Uh, yeah, actually."

"That's what I was talking about. Miss Sunny left that there this morning. I found her there around quarter-to-eight, so she probably came in before me."

She cocked her head in confusion. "Um, what?"

"Yeah, Miss Sunny Song was visiting Miss Sunset Shimmer this morning. Maybe even last night, to be honest."

"Wait, wait." Rainbow raked her fingers through her messy hair. "You're saying that this 'Sunny Song' person left all that stuff behind? Like, the pictures and cards and stuff?"

"Uh, yeah. I think so, anyway."

Rainbow's face twisted and turned as she mulled over the information—.

She dropped her package.

'Somebody robbed Sunset's grave?!'  Dash's heart was racing, pounding, burning with righteous fury and goosebumps rose under cold sweat. Why? Wait—how?! The grass was pristine! Rainbow began pacing, muttering incoherently to herself, ignorant of the old man's growing concern.

The only way those things could've gotten out was through digging or—.

"Magic," Rainbow breathed. But still, why? There wasn't really anything all that special in there but Sunset's body and—, "the journal!" Rainbow's eyes flicked around in panic. Twilight said something about the magical tome and the portal. This was another magical incident! She—oh gosh, she needed to round up the girls! 

But... no, they needed Twilight, too, but she wouldn't be around until next week at the earliest. If she even came back. Oh, but maybe Sunset—.

'Damn it, Dash, Sunset's dead!' 

Okay. Twilight. She just needed to get Twilight.

So she needed the book. She needed to track this 'Sunny Song' down.

"What's she look like." 

The guy blinked. "Who, Sun—?"

Rainbow Dash rounded on him. "What's Sunny look like?!"

He threw his hands up between them. "S-she looks—what're you on about?"

"Just answer me, will ya'?!"

"Back up a little, kid!" Back up she did, but in confusion rather than fear. "What's your problem, anyway? I thought you said you didn't know her."

"I don't—," Dash growled in frustration. "Did she say where she was going?"

"Listen, kid," he crossed his arms, expression stern. "I appreciate you helping me, really I do, so I'll do you the favor of not kicking you out for trespassing. But you need to settle down and tell me what's going on right now, or I'm not telling you anything."

"'Settle down?'" Was he joking?! "'Settle down?!' I, what... This—What's-her-face stole Sunset's diary and you want me to 'settle down'?!"

"Stole her—," His hands flew up to the head in shock and confusion. "What in the heck are you talking about?!"

"S-she stole a book and—!" Didn't this guy get how serious this was? "I-Twilight left it with all the things I left and then they were everywhere but..." Wait, what could she even say to make this guy understand? "I... She's the only one who'd know where and... I need to find her and... uh... uh...!" Dash paced with intensity, racking her brain for any possible solution.

She found none.

"I..." Another failing battle. Rainbow Dash has proven herself to be a failure once again. As if being stupidly gullible wasn't enough, she was just too useless to follow the one trail that was left for her. Rainbow Dash tried not to let her frustrated tears slip. She tried so hard, but still one or two did escape.

She turned away, hoping that the old man wouldn't notice. He probably did, judging by his sigh.

"Look miss, if it's really that important..." He coughed lightly into his fist. "I, uh... You don't seem like a bad person, and it seems pretty important. I don't even have much I could tell you, anyway." Rainbow Dash tried to peek at him over her shoulder, keeping as much as her face hidden as possible. "She looks like Sunset Shimmer. I've briefly seen a picture that I think was her, but another girl also told me they looked pretty alike."

"Sh-she looks like Sunset?" Rainbow's confusion mixed with the frustration on her brow. "What—wait, somebody else said that?"

"Yeah," he slipped his hands into his pocket. "She must've been pretty close to Miss Sunset Shimmer, too, judging by her reaction."

"What do you mean?"

"She lost it. Almost... no exactly like if she'd seen a ghost."

Did one of the other girls visit and not say anything? No way. "The other girl, what'd she look like."

"Hmm..." he hummed in thought, and Rainbow began to tap her foot impatiently. If he noticed, he made no sign of it. "About your height, I think. Pink skin, green hair. She seemed pretty slim, I think, but winter clothes and all. Oh!" He snapped his fingers. "Her name was Watermelody."

"Watermelody? Watermelody..." That name sounded familiar. Oh, that's right. She's a Wondercolt. "What was Watermelody doing out here?" She wondered aloud. The old man shot her a look. With a blink, Rainbow remembered where she was. "Oh, uh, I mean was she meeting Sunny here or..." Wait, no. She was shocked to see her, too, so probably not.

"No. Well, yes. She was driving for the taxi company that I called."

"She what?" Wait. Wait! That's it! That's the plan! She turned and ran without allowing the man to respond. "Thanks, old man, gotta run!" Rainbow Dash called over her shoulder as she sprinted down the path. He was trying to say something to her, but she was moving too fast and way too busy to hear it.

Plan in mind, she pulled out and unlocked her phone. Opening her contacts, she quickly navigated her messenger.

>You: Watermelodys # pls

The response was a little less immediate than usual. She probably just woke up.

>Pinks: [Watermelody.VCF] 

Rainbow wasted no time. With deft fingers, she downloaded the attachment and imported the data onto her contact's list. With her other hand, she pulled her bike away from the Canter City Gardens gate.

>You: Thx get the grls. Magic emergency.

>Pinks: Uh oh. K. My hous @ 5?

Rainbow Dash glanced at her watch, belatedly realizing that she had a clock on her phone. That would give her five hours and some change.

Perfect.

>You: Sure gtg

Rainbow Dash hopped onto her bike.

>Pinks: <3 u Dashie!

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes, but knew better than to remain silent. 'Pinkie's trying. She's failing, but she's trying.' Dash tapped out her reply.

>You: Thnx

Good enough.

Not waiting for any response. Rainbow Dash called Watermelody. The dial tone rang.

And rang...

...And went to voicemail. Rainbow hung up and immediately tried again.

It rang...

...And rang—.

"Hello?"

Finally.

"Hey, Watermelody? It's Dash."

"Rainbow Dash?" Great, she sounded nervous. "Uh, what's up? And how did you get—?"

"I heard you had a weird ride from the Canter Gardens this morning." A pause. Was she still there? "Did you give—?"

"I swear if this is a prank I'm gonna—!"

"Woah!" Rainbow Dash adjusted her seat. "Melody, stop. This isn't some stupid prank." Rainbow Dash sighed harshly as she raked her fingers through her hair. "I'm, uh, trying to track Su—uh, Sunny? Her."

"And I'm trying to forget about her, the freak." A beat passed. "I took her to Golden Oaks, It's only a couple of miles from the cemetery."

"Awesome, thanks."

"Don't mention it. Or her. Or either of them, really."

Rainbow frowned. "Yeah, sure. Bye."

Watermelody hung up first. Jerk. Was she always like that?

Whatever, not important. Muttering under her breath, Rainbow looked up the Golden Oaks—cursing as she realized that it was a library, of all things—and plotted her course. With her phone mounted onto her handlebars, she took to the streets, hoping that her hunt wouldn't end in failure. Just like every other hunt ever since Sunset—.

'Okay, stop.' She needed to stop living in the past, there were still things that she needed to do now. She was gonna find whoever took that book. With any luck, Sunny Song would be connected to Sunset's murder.

Right. Things were starting to look up.





The relaxing tunes playing over the Donut Joe's radio did absolutely nothing to calm Shining Armor's nerves. They certainly did nothing for Spike, who opted to tuck himself into Twilight's backpack.

Between the awkward car ride and the awkward lunch, Shining would say that the plan wasn't going very well. He tried to get the girl talking, but between her apparent condition and unwillingness—or inability, he supposed—to disclose any further information about herself, he hasn't learned more beyond 'Science is fun,' 'I like dogs,' and 'I don't think dogs like me.'

"Mmm!" Twilight hummed in delight from her seat beside Shining. "Are you sure you don't want any hash-browns or, uh, anything? Donuts and coffee aren't the only thing this place is good for."

A deep inhale. "Mnno. I'mm ghood. Th-thanksh, though." A soft, but long exhale. With subtly trembling hands, Sunny gently lifted her steaming-hot, absolutely freshly brewed cup of black-as-coal coffee. She took a deep sip.

She didn't even blow on it! Shining Armor watched the event in equal parts admiration, respect, and fear. Judging by the look on her face, she liked her coffee fresh out of a friggin' volcano.

"So Sunny," Shining began with artificial composure, "what's your full name?" Twilight watched Sunny from across the table in rapt attention.

She inhaled. Seriously, why does she do that? "S-Sunny Shong." She exhaled.

Shining blinked. "Sunny Shong?"

Sunny blinked. Soft in. "S-S-Shunny S-Song."

Shining smirked and opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by Twilight smacking his arm. 

"Ha, ha!" Twilight chuckled in an excessively forced manner, drawing a couple of looks from some of the other customers. "Oh Shiny, you're such a kidder! So uh," Twilight poked her hash-browns a little, before continuing, "what kind of foods do you like?"

Sunny's gaze drifted to the ceiling in thought. After a moment, she inhaled. "Shweet things, I th-think. C-cupcakesh. Hm... Hey...?" 

Shining and Twilight both raised a brow. "Uh," Twilight spoke in confusion, "hey what?"

"Hm, fries and burgersh," Sunny continued on, ignoring Twilight. She paused, but she didn't do that breathe-out thing. "With ch-cheese. Oh, I l-like cheese!" 

Twilight blinked and cringed hard. "Oh, uh, really? That's... great." She awkwardly sipped her hot hot cocoa, before immediately regretting her decision. 

Shining Armor chuckled, stepping in for Twilight as she devoured her ice water to soothe her burned tongue. "So, you like sweet stuff."

Sunny nodded.

"Right. But yet," Shining tapped his own steaming mug, "you drink your coffee black."

Sunny nodded again with a wide smile. In. "It'sh how I firsht d-drank it. I like itt."

He nods. "You ever try chewing the beans? Like, whole, unbrewed coffee beans." 

Sunny froze. 'Wha?' he could see her silently mouth. 

"Yeah, you just pop one in and eat it. Ugh, it's so gross, but so good. I do it all the time."

Sunny's face matched Twilight's as it twisted in confused disgust. In. "Ew. Wwha?"

"Yeah, try it sometime—it's terrible." Shining Armor took a bite out of his sandwich. He covered his mouth as he resumed talking, as though it would annoy Twilight any less. "It's also a pretty good pick-me-up when you don't have time to brew."

Sunny smiled the cringing smile of somebody who just saw Spike playing in mud. "That'sh g-grossh. I'll try th-that." Out. 

"Nice, my condolences in advance," Shining chuckled. "But you know, the only other people I see drinking black coffee are the older guys at work." He dons a thoughtful expression. "Come to think of it, how old are you, anyway?" Twilight looked mortified.

"S-Shiny!" Twilight struck Shining Armor again. He feigned quiet agony. "Y-you shouldn't ask that!"

"Why the heck not?!" He threw an exaggerated shrug. "If you don't ask questions how're you gonna get answers?"

"Just don't ask!"

"But Twily," Shiny whined as hard as he could, "I wanna know, though!" Twilight looked about ready to strangle him.

"S-stop!" She hissed as quietly-loud as she could. "Shiny, you...!" Twilight buried her face in her hands in embarrassment. Nice. 

Seeing the lull in activity, he saw Sunny twitching softly in her side of the booth. Was that... was she laughing? Judging by the way Sunny was grinning like a goofball, probably.

Sunny took a breath. "I'm t-t-t-twenty-four, I thi-inkk." Sunny breathed out. 

Pffft!

"Wow, you age like wine!" Shining laughed. Well, elusive that she is, she's got a sense of humor, if a bit weird. Unfortunately, that could mean that she was still way too suspicious of him. 

"T-twenty four?" Oh right, Twilight probably didn't pick up on the joke. "B-but, you don't look any older than me!"

In. "Reallly?" Twilight nodded frantically. Sunny tilted her head back in thought. "Oh," she eventually said, as though she grabbed the wrong pair of shoes, "I guesh I'mm actually shixteen."

Twilight looked dumbfounded. The expression was enough to put Shining into a laughing fit. Shiny's guffaws were enough to bring her back to reality. With an offhanded poke to Shining's ribs, Twilight cleared her throat.

Sunny seemed pretty pleased with the display.

"So, uh, I guess you're still in school then, huh?" Twilight began, seizing Shining's attention. 

Sunny began to nod, stopped in thought, then shook her head instead. Seeing the siblings' confused expressions, she took a breath.

"I used t-to. I don't annymorrre." Out.

"Oh, you graduated early?"

In. "No..." she trailed off, her breath leaving with her statement. She stared at the table deep in thought. Suddenly, she smiled and twitched. But it wasn't quite a happy smile. No that was... yes that was the same smile that he saw in the library.

Inhale. "Not r-really," she began, smiling that secretive smirk. "I guessh I d-d-dropped out." 

Twilight Sparkle gaped. She chuckled once, then twice, but after seeing nobody else laughing, fell into a shocked silence once more.

Shining Armor was frozen. She freakin' knew.

'This is not a coincidence.'

Shining Armor quickly glanced around the diner, just in case this was some kind of elaborate joke. When he returned his attention to Sunny Song, he found her observing him and accidentally made eye contact. Shining blinked.

Sunny didn't.

'Crap.' He tried to smile at her to diffuse the growing discomfort of the awkwardness, the perfect out to any eye contact. 

She smiled that same smile back, but she also kept staring. 

It was less than a second longer, but Shining began feeling an uncomfortable sensation growing in the pit of his stomach. It was a sickening feeling, as though he were stepping alone into a dark alley.

Shining picked up his sandwich as an excuse to escape the deadlock, despite the fact that his appetite grew nonexistent. 

"No..." Twilight breathed, regaining her voice. "No! 'D-dropped out'?!" Twilight took off her glasses. Sunny stopped smiling. "How—no! Sunny, no! I..." Tears unimpeded began streaming down Twilight's face. "I, Sunny... Why, Sunny?" Twilight whimpered. "Is-is this a joke? Are you—you're messing with me, right?"

Sunny looked utterly heartbroken. Inhale. "T-Twilight, I... n-no, I just... pleash don't..." Sunny tried to lean across the table, reaching out to Twilight, but the table was too wide to reach. Twilight quickly took Sunny's hands in one of her own, the other desperately trying to wipe the tears as they came. "Dhon't cry, T-Twi-Twil-light, I, I, I..." Sunny's entire body trembled, but her eyes were dry. "It... I wwas jhoking, Twilight. I'm s-shorry. It w-wasn't funny. P-pleash stop..."

Shining intervened. He placed a gentle hand on Twilight's shoulder. "Hey, Twily," he spoke, voice low, "relax. It was a joke, okay? That's all. You okay?"

"I'm..." Twilight sniffed wetly, "I'm, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I... I didn't get it, I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin—to make a, a..." She took several deep breaths, pulling the air towards her with her free hand then pushing it away—the method that Cadance taught her, if he remembered correctly—but only got herself a calmer by a fraction. 

"Hey, Twily, why don't you head on over to the restroom?" Sunny's distressed gaze snapped to Shining. "Get yourself cleaned up, hm? We'll be here, okay? Trust me."

"I... okay." She reluctantly let go of Sunny's hand. "Okay. I'll, uh... I'll be right back. Yeah, I'll be right back." Quickly, Twilight slipped out of the booth and rushed over to the restrooms. From her backpack, Spike twisted himself free of his synthetic cloth sanctuary and rushed after the girl.

Okay, Twilight's gone. He's probably got about five minutes.

Time for business.

"What are you doing here, Sunny?" He maintained his low tone, as to remain difficult to hear. However, he made sure that his voice was firm.

Practically laying on the table, she breathed in. "Waht?"

"I said, 'what. Are. You. Doing. Here?'" Shining Armor pushed. "I know you have some kind of connection to Sunset Shimmer."

She seemed to perk up at that. "You kn-knew Sunset Shimmer?"

"Did you?" She nodded her head frantically, but thought about it.

Inhale. "N-no. But I want to know m-more, and—."

"Right, but who are you. Are you a relative or what? You look just like her."

"I-I, uh. How d-did you kn-knoww that wwe look the same?" Out.

Okay, he was getting nowhere. "I was the responder on the scene where Sunset Shimmer's body was found. I know what she looks like. I also know that a friggin' doppleganger popping up two weeks after her death is not a coincidence. So that's who I am. Now who are you?"

She stopped for a moment, before her eyes widened. In. "You're a guard?"

"What?" Where do you find these people? "I'm a cop. C.P.D." 

"Th-then, y-y-y—," her brow furrowed and she grunted in frustration, '—you-r people knew mme!"

"What are you even talking about right now."

She breathed in. Out. In again. "Help me, pleashe. I'm S-S-Sunset Shimmer. I'm d-dead. I w-want to know who I am."

He blinked.

He blinked again.

"Bullshit," he spat in anger. He was not going to be made fun of by this freak. "Now I know you've been trying to piss me off."

In. "N-no! It'sh t-true! I, I can, uh." She was so obviously grasping at straws. It was taking all of his energy to remain seated. "I-I look jusht like her, and I'm d-dead."

"You don't look too dead to me."

"I-I can prove it!" Stiff but shaky arms pushed her body upright. She held her hand on her chest, over her heart. "I don't h-have a heart b-b-beat."

"I'm not touching you to find out." She looked at him, shocked. What was she expecting? He wasn't friggin' stupid.

"I-I don't..." she breathed in. "I don't n-need to breathe."

"Then how are you talking right now?"

She gaped. She couldn't have not seen that coming. "I nheed to breathe in before I t-t-talk." 

"Uh huh." Despite his skepticism, Shining blinked. She did do that. And never when she wasn't talking. 

This chick was good. How could he blow her cover once and for all though... 

Ah.

He got an idea.

"So first off," he began, "there's no way you should even be able to take in air. Second," he raised two fingers, "there's no reason for you to eat or drink. Now, third—and this is a big one here—there's no way you should even be able to do anything, let alone talk about anything, because even if you somehow survived the fall, you could sure bet that you'd be dead and unmoving now. Do you know why?"

Sunny Song shook her head, visibly confused.

"Good. Then show me your scalp behind your ear."

'Sunset' blinked. In. "Uhm. W-what?"

"You want to prove you're the dead girl? Lean in, turn your head, and show me your scalp. Then I'll tell you why you're wrong." If she does, then she's dumb. If she doesn't then she's wrong and dumb. Either way, she wasn't going near Twilight again and Shining was going to have something to report.

"Okay." Out. Perfect.

She shifted over to be seated further into the booth, directly across from Shining Armor. After brief hesitation, she shifted her legs onto the seat and leaned her head over the table, and holy crap this was probably a weird image, but it was for the greater good. Trying her best to keep her eyes on him, Sunny brought her arms to her head and twisted it at an awkward angle—'Heh, still trying to keep up this sham.'— and began pulling her hair up and away, leaving as little obstruction between the scalp and Shining's eyes.

Good.

"And you see, this is where your story falls apart. Because I know for a fact that, that..." 

Wait. 

No way. 

"Wait, stop right there." She did, glancing around nervously, as though she were doing something wrong. He stared in disbelief. He looked away and rubbed his eyes and looked back. 

Just barely but clearly there, he saw the ridges of red thread in a base-ball stitch pattern running behind her ear towards the back of her head.

No way.

He hesitated, but reached out to further part her hair. She shied away from the touch briefly, and he hesitated in response. They glanced at each other's faces. He read confusion and fear in her eyes. 

She could probably read the same in his eyes, too.

He reached out once more and began parting her hair, following the line of stitches. True to his newfound suspicions, they wrapped around the back of her skull in a straight line. If he asked her to turn her head the other way, the stitches should wrap around to the back of her other ear.

He asked. She did. It did.

He leaned back in his seat. Seeing him do so, she followed his action. For one of Shining's precious minutes, they stared at each other.

'She's really good.' He couldn't believe it. 

—young girl, mid teens—

'I mean, she's done her research.' There was no way. 

—red and yellow hair—

'That, and she must have some resources.' He thought back to every moment that she held her breath. 

—amber skin, blue eyes—

That she never blinked in anything other than shock, 'she never blinked in anything other than shock'. That she couldn't walk anything more than a wall-assisted stagger on her own.

—Both legs clearly broken—

The moments that she would just lay still.

This was stupid. She's a fake.

'What kind of person would do this? What kind of person could do this?'

Spike was terrified of her. 

Spike loves everyone, but he was terrified of her.

This was a lot. This was too much. This—what is happening? Was he dreaming? 

She breathed in. He flinched. "W-what'd you find?" Out.

"Wh—," his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "Uh, what?" he tried again quietly.

In. "Did you ffind it?" Her body gently fell to the side until she was leaning against the wall. "Wwaht where you l-llooking forr?"

"O-oh, um..." he took a sip of his coffee, but burned his tongue.

—drank the freshly poured cup, no pain, no shock—

He instead drank down several gulps of water. "I, uh... Sunset Shimmer, hm." With shaky fingers, he rearranged the cutlery and condiments near his dish of half-eaten sandwich. "She, uh. She had an autopsy and, well, your—uh, her body got... pretty much gouged out and... Well your lungs should be detached and... uh... your brain..." 

She breathed in. "D-do you b-b-believe me? I jusht want to know more about mmyself. Pleash help me."

How, what. She couldn't. He couldn't. He could taste his own adrenaline but had nothing to use it on. He took a glance to the left.

He looked again.

Twilight was coming back. He could see her in the reflection of the extra salt-shaker.

"Don't tell Twilight."

"Wha..." He turned back to Sunny. Sunset? Whoever the hell this person was or was supposed to be. "But wwaht about—?"

"Do. Not. Tell. Twilight."

She looked lost. Confused. Her eyes rolled to and fro. She saw Twilight, he was sure. He glanced over. Twilight was getting closer.

"Sunset."

She met his gaze. He did not look away. 

She frowned and her gaze grew steel.

She took a deep breath.

"Or w-what."

His heart froze.

"Suns—."

"Hey, uh, hi." Twilight slid back into the booth next to Shining Armor. Her cheeks were still flushed and her eyes were still a little red, but she looked remarkably better. 

A lot better than he felt.

"I'm, uh." Twilight cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, Sunny. I, uh, I misunderstood and I think I kind of panicked because—well. Uh."

In. "It'sh ohkay, Twilight." She smiled. "You never n-neeed to apo-p-polo—." She took a breath. "...say sorry. You're ffine."

"Yeah, Twily, it's all good." Shining really hoped he sounded as confident as he hoped he did. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay... Okay. Good. Thanks, everyone." 

"Twily, where's Spike?"

"He's... uh, Spike?" She turned back towards the rest rooms. "What're you doing over there? C'mon, Spike!" 

Spike ran back over, and directly into Twilight's backpack.

'I feel you, little buddy. I really feel you right now.'

"Sorry, Sunny, he's usually a lot more friendly."

Sunny(?) took a breath. "It'sh alright. He pr-probably smells someth-thing bad on me."

Shining clenched a fist. Sunny briefly met his eyes. 

"S-so! Uh." Twilight sipped her hot cocoa, earning a small bit of whipped cream on her upper lip. "The 'dropout' joke."

In. "Oh. Yeahh." Sunny lifted her coffee to her lips and took a sip. "I hear I f-fell." Shining struggled to remain calm. "Sschool became im-mpossssible. S-sho, yeah. Dr-dr-dropout." It was getting really hard to sit there. 

Sunny met his gaze again. She smirked.

That little—that's it the moment that he got a chance, he was gonna—!

"Oh, Sunny that's terrible." Twilight was working herself up again. "Sunny, that joke wasn't funny at all!"

In. "S-sorry. I thought it wwas but I was wronng." Out.

Shining's cellphone rang.

"It's work be right back." He didn't even look at his phone. 

"O-oh. Uh okay—Shiny, let me get out first! Gosh!"

"S-sorry, Twily," he called over his shoulder. "I'll be back in a bit."

He could distantly hear them as he marched off.

"I hope he's okay. He looked like he saw a ghost!"

"I-I think he did."

He marched out of the door and ran through the parking lot to his car. The phone stopped ringing, but immediately began again. Throwing himself into the car, and making sure he could still see Twilight through the store window, he screamed.

"Fuck! Sonnova mother—mmmmmmmm!" He gripped his hair, punched his steering wheel, threw his empty thermos into the foot-space—whatever it took to let it out. Every now and then, he would stop to look at the booth with Twilight and her 'friend,' making sure his sister was safe and sound, before starting up again. Today was supposed to be an easy day with Twilight. Today was his break! And then what's-her-face—what even is her face—came in and made it one of the most stressful days that he'd had this month. Life wasn't fair, but damn it why did it have to suck?

Who even was that girl? Coming out of nowhere like that... If Sunset thinks—no, no! That was not Sunset—if 'Sunny' thinks that she could just show up and start causing trouble, then she's got another thing coming. 

'I mean, seriously! Impersonating a suicide victim!' That was illegal, tasteless, and wrong on so many different levels. It ground him up that this whoever this was could get away with this for as long as she did. He picked up his phone, ready to make a few calls.

...

He put his phone down. 'Not now, Shining, don't be rash. Get mad right now as much as you want, but act with a clear mind.' Sure, his mind didn't get much clearer as it was at that moment, but it would be a violation of principles if he went and started breaking his own rules now. Calling up the guys could wait. But damn, did he want to do something—.

Oh, his phone was ringing again. During his tantrum, his phone rang several more times, starting again just as the call ended. He'd have to pick that up eventually. 

You know what?

Screw it.

He picked up the phone, with his most bored voice. "Hello—?"

"Finally! Do you have any idea how long I've been trying to call you?!"

Oooh boy, okay. Not today. "Okay squeaker, you've got ten seconds to try and sell me your elbow grease before I hang up."

"Oh whatever, I'm looking for a girl named Sunny Song. Do you still have her?"

What? "...Uh, sorry, you broke up a little bit. Who are you looking for?" 

"A girl named 'Sunny Song.' Red and yellow hair, blue eyes and stuff. Do you have her or not?"

Well then. Isn't that something. An accomplice? I don't know, she sounds pretty pissed. Wait.

"Yeah, she's here. How did you get this number?"

"Seriously? Can't you just tell me where you are?"

"Just humor me, okay?" 

"The librarian at the Golden Oaks gave it to me when I asked about Sunny. Can you please tell me where to go, now?"

"Yeah, I'm at Donut Joe's Diner. You know the place?"

"Yeah, thanks, I'm on my way. Do me a favor and don't tell her I'm coming." They hung up.

Hm.

Shining Armor called Sandy's phone. It still sucked, but maybe the day was starting to look up.
> Wrong
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rainbow's hair flew wildly as she slid her bike to a full stop on the sidewalk. Strangely enough, the diner didn't seem too busy; an anomaly for the somewhat popular doughnut stop. But that was good. It would make her search easier. An easy search was a short one and she was friggin' cold.

In a parking space across from the main entrance, a preppy-looking guy leaned against his whit SUV, waving at her. Pale skin, blue hair with a light stripe—yep, that's what that librarian lady described.

She pedaled her bike through the parking lot. "You Shining Armor?" 

"Depends," he responded neutrally but with a smirk, idly dropping his hands into his pockets. "Who's asking?" 

Oh great. "C'mon, really? I'm looking for Sunny Song. You gonna help me or not?" 

"I was joking, sorry," he coughed lightly into his fist, scratching his chin, generally not sounding sorry at all. A breeze blew through the area, only strong enough to move her hair. "I just wanted to ask you a few questions first and..."  He trailed off, giving Rainbow a quick glance up and down. His brow furrowed. 

This guy was wasting her time and pissing her off all in one shot.

"What're you looking at?" Rainbow crossed her arms in equal parts defiance and cold, as though that would do anything against the breeze that had just cut right through her.

"You're shivering. You alright?" The guy frowned. "Last I checked, this was at least sweater weather—."

"I, you...!" Rainbow tried to think of how to cut him off, mouth twisting at the reminder of her prior carelessness, only to realize that she already did. She rolled with it. "I'm shivering because I'm cold, duh. So unless you're about to turn the sun back up, I'd like it if you'd just hurry up."

Hopefully the old guy from the tomb-shed didn't unwrap her hoodie—that would be hard to explain.

"I just—." His brow furrowed, hands moving, but hesitating, as though they didn't know where to go. Just as she was about to tell him where to shove them, he stuck out his hand. "Right sorry, I'm Shining Armor. What's your name?"

Dash had a thought. She leaned to the side, looking past Shining, trying to get a glance at the vehicle's occupants. The seats seemed empty, and she doubted that anyone had a reason to hide under the window. Unless this "Sunny" person knew she was coming...

Wait, this guy was trying to talk to Dash. He needed something from her, so he wouldn't be leaving any time soon. Dash was in control.

Realizing that Shining didn't relent, she quickly grasped his hand, shook once, and let go. "Yeah, sure, good talk. Think we can continue inside? That's where Sunny is, right?" She didn't wait for him to respond, as she started walking her bike to the entrance.

"Yeah, but—hey, you...!" Dash could have sworn she heard him growl as she rolled up to the bike rack. To his credit, she heard him mostly catch up before she stepped all the way through the door.

Rainbow Dash briskly marched across the checkered floor, glancing around the diner. She scanned for any sign of her quarry. Red hair, large book-sized objects, anything.

A lone stranger. 

A couple of couples. 

Purple on purple—. 

"Twilight!" She came back early! Twilight was here! They were gonna get this problem solved in no time, now! Rainbow sprinted the short distance to the booth. Twilight promptly flinched and pulled back, but ha, Rainbow Dash had more control than Twilight thought! Honestly, Twi should stop underestimating her. 

"Awesome, I'm glad you're here!" Dash's laughed as her sneakers squeaked in response to her abrupt stop. Twilight played with her glasses—huh, those are new—as Dash leaned in. 

"U-uhm—?"

"Somebody stole Sunset's journal," Dash started lowly, glancing suspiciously around once more, quickly noting another occupant in Twilight's booth. "I don't know why, but—!" 

Dash's throat closed, her mouth speaking gibberish in silence, as her gaze was unwavering locked on the face of the girl in front of her. And the girl stared back. The girl in green blanket stared with her eyes in her face on her head, her hair—!

This girl was Sunny? No, she was her but wrong. Yes, wrong. They were all wrong.

Completely wrong.

She was wrong, the old man was wrong, Watermelody was wrong. They were as wrong as Rainbow Dash's eyes were wide—as wrong as her heart was frozen, yet pounding. They were as wrong as the bile in Dash's throat was strong.

So horribly and terrifyingly wrong.

The girl. Caked in makeup which may as well have been clay, the ugly pallor hinting at what might have been. She might not have known makeup, but no, Rainbow Dash knew her friend's face. She knew what was and what still should have been.

But they didn't know. They couldn't have known that that thing staring at her with growing eyes, eyes unnaturally open, slack jawed, mouth hanging—

'Unnaturally closed, can still see her crying, but she's smiling—she's smiling, why is she smiling, why did they make her smile, she shouldn't be smiling! Wasn't, didn't, Isn't, too fake, can't be, not real, not real—!'

—slowly, slowly, but faster than Dash ever would have wanted, the girl—the thing—pulled itself hand-over-hand towards her, dragging itself across the cushion of the booth. Fire hair, amber skin, blue eyes, blue dress—blue dress?—Dash wanted to run keep running don't stop because it was wronger than she could have possibly imagined. 

It looked nothing like Sunset Shimmer.

It looked exactly like Sunset's corpse.

"T-Twil...!" Rainbow gasped, but did she? Her mouth moved but she couldn't hear herself, she couldn't hear anything other than the blood rushing, heart pounding, can't see, can't hear, can't breathe, not real, wrong.

Something touched her back. Frantically, blindly, she shot her hand back and felt something cool, smooth—the countertop? When did she back up? Why was Sunset—'not Sunset, not real!'—still getting closer, moving, why—?

"Sunny? Do you, uh, need...?" Twilight, that was Twilight. Twilight Sparkle, Princess Twilight Sparkle, her friend—her friend!

"T-Twi-light," Dash tried, strangled by terror. 

"W-wha? How do you...?"

"H-help... can't...!" Rainbow Dash tried to find Twilight in the sea of blur and colors and wrongness but she couldn't move, couldn't see. All she could see was red and gold and green and blue—
blue?—and arms and legs. Crouching, standing, and Dash was blind, blind to it all until the body was right on top of her, lunging—!

"Sunny!"

Impact, hard, firm, and cold against Rainbow's chest, her arms, her hands pinned between the corpse and herself. Blocked by the barrier of a cool body, back pressed against the countertop, shoulders trapped in vice of icy fingers. Hunched over, it looked up, searching Dash's face, but all the athlete could see was red-and-gold hair, amber-but-wrong skin, blue eyes, green cloak, blue dress, blue dress—that dress—?!

With a raspy cry, Rainbow Dash's arms burst into to action and shoved. A loud thud and a rattling of dishes rang out in the diner.

"Sunny!"

"Hey!"

Suddenly, the world broke into fragments of unimpeded focus.

It should have caught its balance, but it didn't. Momentum carried it back-first into the edge of the table it came from, from which it crumpled to the ground. Did she do that? She didn't mean to—but Twilight was already moving in to—.

That "Shining Armor" guy was rushing over, rushing in. Both of his hands were loose, but Armor's shoulders clearly read aggression. 

'Fight? This is a fight!' No ring and no judge. Defeat is not an option—. 

Can Twilight fight? No, she could barely control her legs in a soccer match, let alone a fight.

'Gotta let Twilight do her thing!' was the first coherent thought that made its order known.

Trusting Twilight to watch her back, Dash stepped between Shining Armor and the princess, instinctively stabilizing her stance—.

"Oh gosh, Sunny, are you okay?"

What?

She turned and caught glimpse of Twilight helping it to sit upright when she felt grip and force pulling on her shoulder—.

'Focus, Dash, focus!' Following reflex, she let her arm strike out at her attacker. 

"Dammit, kid, what's your problem?!" Shining hissed as he accepted a hard wrist to the cheek, but was completely unimpeded. With a step and a hard pull, Rainbow Dash found herself displaced, and the wrong side of Twilight and the guy who was... was facing her, but... 

...standing between her and Twilight?

Dash could see her, behind Shining's legs. Dash thought to call out to her but Twilight was completely unconcerned. No, Twilight seemed more concerned with Sunset—no, Sunset's body—no, whatever was slouched there, sprawled there, cloak or blanket unable to hide what was unmistakably that dress, staring at her—.

Oh gosh it was staring at her with Sunset's eyes, her face, but it was a face that Rainbow had seen once before and had wished to never see again. Wide eyes filled with hurt, brow and lips twisted with betrayal, mouth open with emotion but lacking the words to express it, cheeks wet on the plain tiles of the hall, soundlessly crying out, looking for somebody, anybody to help her, save her, 'why didn't I—!'

"Rainb-boww...?"

Paralysis in shaking, Rainbow Dash closed her eyes tight. 'No way, no way, not real, take a breath.' In a span of three seconds, Dash took as many heaving breaths. Upon the third she tore her eyes open, knowing that she was having another nightmare.

But why did Sunset's wounded gaze feel so real?

"I..." Rainbow wheezed, only faintly noting other voices around her.

"...are they fighting, mom?"

"...ainbow Dash? Like, from...?"

"...wild. Wait till they see...!"

All eyes were on her. Her eyes were on her, and she couldn't look away. A hundred pairs of barbs digging into her back, but just one dragging out her heart, her lungs, her painful thoughts and memories that she had only just finally...!

Too many noises, she couldn't think. People talking, dog barking, chairs moving, eyes digging, wind howling, Twilight crying, everybody's crying, Sunset's crying. 

Too many. 

Too much.

"I-I can't."

Shining Armor took a step forward. "Kid, you'd better start—."

"I-bu-I can't, I—Sunset, please. Sorry, I-I can't...!" With some small amount of balance, Rainbow Dash spun on her heels, stumbled into two chairs, brushed passed a few bystanders who quickly gave way, and crashed out of the door.

The rush of frigid air did little to ground her as Dash yanked her bicycle out of the rack. All of her prior grace was lost to panic as she threw herself onto her bike, only to have her momentum carry her off the other side of the seat. Before should could try again, a pale hand had latched onto the bike.

She gave the bike a hard tug, to no avail. "L-let go, let me go!"

"No. We need to talk." Shining Armor was clearly not happy, but Dash was not having it. With both hands and her whole body, she pulled, she twisted, she wrenched the bike hard, repeatedly, dragging Shining Armor further from the door foot by foot. 

"No! I don't know how you, what you did to—gah!" Rainbow deftly swung her arm to deflect the rolled up bundle that Shining Armor threw at her. As it drifted harmlessly away, the bicycle was roughly torn from her distracted grip. Dragging the bike back to the rack and slamming it back in place, Shining Armor rounded on Dash, stopping a scant stride away, arms crossed and a sharp line on his brow.

"Put on that jacket, because we need to talk now."

"No!" Dash was shouting, she must be heard. "I don't even know you! What are you doing here? Why is Twilight here? Why were you—both you defending Su-th-that—?"

"'Sunset?'" he cut in. "As in Sunset Shimmer. That's what you were going to say, right? That wasn't—that couldn't be Sunset."

"My ass 'that wasn't Sunset'! What do you want with her—with her body, huh? Why is Twilight—?"

"You know how insane you sound right now?" His shoulders rose and jaw clenched as he glared even harder, but she could care less if she was getting under his skin. "You're Rainbow Dash, right? One of her 'besties'?" The way he said that ground on her like she ground her teeth. "You should know better than anyone else that Sunset Shimmer is dead—."

"Shut up!" She felt her balance shift to the balls of her feet before she stopped herself. "Sh-just shut up and answer me! Why are you and—?"

"No!" Shining barked, uncrossing his arms as he bristled. "No, I'm done. You answer my questions now." She wouldn't have a bike, but Dash was still pretty sure that she might be able outmaneuver him if things got nasty. "You seem pretty damn sure that's Sunset Shimmer, huh?" Lightning was coursing through her veins, she couldn't stop shaking. "So, what, that handicap you just slammed against a table was a, a vampire or something? You have any idea how damn retarded that sounds?!"

"Stop lying to me!" The entire world was shouting, screaming, rushing too loud and she needed to be louder. "You're the one with her body! And don't!" she screamed over him even as he was raising his voice, "don't you even try and tell me this is just some lookalike. We both know that—that you and Twilight—," why would she do this? "—that you took Sunset's... that Twilight... she's the only who who could...!" Why would Twilight do this? Was this some kind of punishment? Who was she—?

"What do you even mean by—you know what? Fine. Fine! If you won't answer me then I know a few other—."

"If that's not Sunset," Rainbow rasped raggedly over him, "then why is she wearing that dress, huh? That's the same dress she was buried in—I watched! So tell me how the hell that works!" He visibly faltered, eyes widening just a fraction, but Dash noticed. "Got nothing, huh? Twilight didn't even tell you? She was there too, you know. Or maybe you didn't even think about that, you stupid—?"

"S... what?" Shining started, so quiet that his was easily overshadowed by Rainbow's voice. "Wait, wait!" he rallied. "Back up, what do you mean 'Twilight was'—wait, no! Don't you even try tha-that shit with me."

'The hell is up with this guy?'

"Twilight doesn't even know you, I can tell. So now, you're trying to tell me that she's some kind of-of mad scientist who, what?" He was shaking now, his eyes everywhere, hands flexing, erratic. "And-and two girls look good in the same thing, and well shit I guess that makes zombies reasonable? They buy the same dime-a-dozen, fifty-dollar dress—?!"

'How dare he—'

"I watched Rarity make that dress you fucki—!" caught off-guard by her own curse, she recoiled and choked on her own saliva. But even as she did, she did not dare avert her eyes—she didn't even blink—as she coughed her lungs out, trying and failing to talk again, to verbally tear him apart.

But he stopped talking. He was staring at her, glaring at her, working his jaw, flapping, but quiet. His hands opened and closed, pursuing each movement with absolute confidence before being abruptly aborted. In a sudden, rough gesture, Shining threw his fingers into his hairline, raking roughly. He distanced himself, turning, pacing, breathing harder and harder.

He was distracted. 

Maybe...

Dash took subtle steps towards the bike rack. If she could get her wheels, she was home free. If she didn't... well, it would take a little more effort, and Dash'd have to hope that he didn't find the address her mom put on the bottom of the seat, darn it. Shining was muttering under his breath. Four more paces. She froze, ready to run, as he again turned towards her. But he kept turning, hands deep into his hair with his wild eyes to the dim-and-darkening sky. Just a couple more steps. 

"Okay," he started shakily, before clearing his voice. He tried again, his voice closer to tamed. "Okay, just." He swallowed. "I..." Shining took a breath. "...I believe—hypothetically if I..."

What.

"W-what?" Dash saw him glance at the bike, before settling his gaze back on her. He made no move to intercept.

"Damn—darn it, quiet down a little, I..." What the heck was this guy playing at? Pretending to be worried? People don't just swing like that, this was bait. "Just... how... what does Twilight..." The opening of the diner door caught his attention.

Dash's magenta eyes met blue and she froze.

Her mind was flying, swirling, swept up in a maelstrom fed by her thoughts. She was falling apart, she could feel it, but she didn't know what to do. She didn't know if it was the guilt, the terror, the betrayal, the mind-splitting headache from all of her crying and screaming, or the suddenness of it all. All that she knew was that it was too much. Dash needed answers.

"I-I can't take this," she found herself gasping. "I can't."

But right now, she needed to leave.





The floor was cold. 

And, somehow, the floor was familiar. It wasn't how she got there, not exactly, but just being there almost reminded her of something. Almost like a word she knew the definition of but didn't quite know how to spell. And seeing that girl with the rainbow hair, the same girl that was in that picture...

That was familiar, too.

Sunset needed to talk to her.

"Sunny, are you okay? Please, say something!"

Sunny blinked. Right, Twilight was here. Inhale. "'m ffine..." Somehow and at some point, a few people that she didn't know around her gathered around her, standing or crouching over her. Somewhat disoriented, she twisted her head until she was facing her friend. "...I'mm fine." Sunny smiled in a way that she hoped was reassuring.

"A-are you sure?" Sunny followed Twilight's hand as it kept meeting, lifting off of, and again lightly setting onto her shoulder. Her smile turned a bit more genuine. "You, uh, you hit the table pretty hard. I-I didn't know if... uh..."

Inhale. "I'm n-no worshe thann I was th-th-this mornn'." Twilight's always so nice to her. "But I nneed to taalk to h-her." Exhale.

"W-what? But she just..." All that stress couldn't be good for Twilight's face.

"Yo," a nearby young man interrupted, worry in his posture. "You sure you're alright?" He turned his gaze to Twilight, who twitched at the attention. "Your friend seems kind of, uh..."

Ah.

"Oh, n-no. I mean, yes!" Twilight corrected, maybe too loudly. Not so loud that the shouting outside couldn't be heard, though. "She, uh," Twilight fidgeted with her glasses, taking them off and looking away, "this is just how she's been since, uh, her... accident."

Sunny didn't know how to feel about the pitying gazes that she received. It wasn't like she actually deserved those or anything, it just was what it was.

In. "I'm f-fine—."

"What's that youngin's problem, anyway?" Another fellow from the small gathering. "Why, I've got half a mind to call the police!"

What? "N-nno!" she wheezed. They couldn't take her away before Sunny got a chance to talk to her! She opened her mouth, remembered to take in air, then tried again, waving her hands in some approximation of a 'hold on' gesture. "S-she's jusht..." C'mon, girl, think—, "...scared. Mm. I l-look like someb-body she used to knoww."

"Well," the speaker drawled, "that still don't give her nowhere near the right, though." 

"But, you know, you do seem kinda familiar—oh! Would you happen to be related to Sunset Shimmer?" A couple of surprised faces turned towards the speaker before reconsidering the girl on the ground.

Sunny turned her head to directly face the recent speaker. Yet, despite scrutinizing his face, she didn't get any kind of familiar feeling.

Meanwhile, he was wilting beneath her gaze. "U-uh... sorry maybe I shouldn't have said anything."

Inhale. "D-did you know S-S-Sunshet Shimmerr?" Out.

"H-huh?" He shook himself out of something. "Oh, no no. I've never seen her in person, but my little brother went to school with her." He sighed, frowning, lightly crossing his arms. "That, and she's become a little infamous lately. I mean, the news' been trying not to refer to her directly by name or picture, but she was too popular to keep anonymous for more than a day." 

Sunset's face twitched. For some reason, she didn't want to be in here anymore.

Inhale. "T-thanks, guysh." She turned to her friend. "I n-need to tahlk with-th her. Hhelp me?" 

"What? No!" Twilight carefully moved until she was kneeling right in front of her, mindful of Sunny's legs. "Sunny, she's dangerous!"

'Dangerous'? That didn't sound right. But why would she be—ah.

In. "J-just a p-p-push. She didn't knoww. Didn't even hurrt!" Sunny swung her arms up and slightly over until her hands were resting on Twilight's arms. "Hhelp me, pleashe?" Out. 

Twilight was clearly conflicted. 'Twilight, I like how you want to help me, but darn it can you please just help me in the way that I want right now?' Sunny put on her best smile. Hopefully it didn't seem to desperate. She really needed a mirror, so that she knew what these faces she made actually looked like.

"I... okay, but only because Shiny's there." Yes! Twilight lightly grasped her forearms and pulled as she rose, helping Sunset to her feet. After some shifting around, Twilight was in a more comfortable position to help keep Sunny upright.

"So, uh, are you girls good good, or...?"

"Oh yes, we're g-uh, we're good." Twilight almost moved her hand away, but apparently reconsidered. "The, uh, the other person out there is actually an officer, so we'll be fine."

"Well that's somethin', huh? Y'all be careful then."

"Uh, sure." Twilight and Sunny stepped passed the small group, Twilight doing her best to weather the stares of the few other patrons, as they awkwardly staggered in tandem their way to the front. The guy with the apron was already there, leaning on the glass with phone idly in hand. "Hey, uh, Mister Joe?"

The older gentlemen with the apron regarded them with a raised brow. "Hey Twilight," he grunted in his gruff voice and inner-city accent. "You guys alright?" That sounded normal but...

'Why is he looking at me like that?' His face spoke some kind of suspicion. Not in hostility but... something.

"Yeah, uh, we're fine. We'll uh," she fidgeted in place, "we'll be right back, I promise."

"Gotcha, Twilight," He nodded, "do what you gotta do. Interest charges hourly."

"What? Oh, heh, yeah." Twilight was just staring passed the door now, watching Shining Armor pace. It seemed like the yelling had stopped for now. "Hopefully, we won't take that long..." 

Ah. Twilight was stalling.

Sunny inhaled. 

Twilight's eyes snapped to Sunny before she could say anything. Nodding and taking a stabilizing breath of her own, Twilight pushed open the door with a shoulder, and she and Sunny stumbled through.

'Wow, it's cold out here.' Her vision shook as Twilight shivered in agreement. Twilight was doing wonders to keep her warm, at least.

Shining Armor was looking at Sunny, examining her, checking her for something. Rainbow wasn't doing any of that. Rainbow was just staring.

Sunny tried and failed to fill already full lungs. "H-heyyy..." she wheezed out, before preemptively taking in another lungful of cold air.

No response.

"Go back inside, Twily," Shining said lowly, but not unkindly. His attention turned back to the rainbow one.

"But, uh," Twilight cleared her throat awkwardly, "Sunny needs to talk to her, I think?"

Sunny was about as sure as Twilight in that moment. 'What do I say?' Sunny stared back at magenta eyes, unsure of how to proceed, but knowing that she didn't have much time to figure out.

"C'mon, then, Twily. You don't need to hear this."

"Ah, but..."

Might as well just go for it.

"Sso, c-can we taalk? Did you kn-know Sunshet—?"

"I-I can't," the shivering girl stuttered unevenly, "take this. I can't." She was wheezing, heaving air now. That couldn't be healthy.

Sunny quickly took air. "Nnonono i-ish ok-k-kay!" She raised her arm in some kind of gesture that definitely wasn't turning out the way she wanted. Inhale. "Wwe can tallk!" Sunny's voice was still little more than a groan than anything, punctuated by hoarse exhales and she hated it.

"N-no, I'm sorry I need to go I need to go." The other girl shuffled just a bit towards her, but more towards the building. "I'm sorry, I... Sunset, I'm sorry, I need...!" 

What started as one step turned into a stumble as her foot caught a discarded jacket—'Wasn't that Shining's?'—which then turned into a lunge for her bike which was quickly freed from the rack—'Wait no she's really fast on that—!'

Sunny threw her arms forward and lurched in her attempt to lunge and grab at least some part of the bike, but forgetting that one needed to move their legs in order to do so. The way the hands on her body tried and failed to secure a solid grip, as well as the way her momentum shifted unexpectedly, told her that she nearly took Twilight with her, too. At some point, Shining got close enough to catch Twilight, thank goodness.

"S-Sunny, no! Oh no, I'm so sorry!"

Before she could thank Shining Armor, she realized she was on the ground. Twisting to face the rainbow haired girl again, Sunny sighed breathlessly as said girl had already seated herself upon the bike and was already several paces away. She'd never stop her now.

But the not-so-stranger just looked down at her, pathetically, like somehow Sunset was the one who just dropped her.

"Sun-Sunset, I..." she sniffed deeply, wetly, "I'm... forgive me, please please please—!" She slammed her eyes shut, but only for as long as it took to drag her sleeve across her face. But she wasn't looking at Sunny anymore. She was just looking over her shoulder. "Twilight, why... why did you bring Sunset back?" 

Huh? Ah. The warmth that just appeared behind her must be Twilight.

"Twi, I, I thought—why would you do that? I," she sniffed again, "I thought we were friends."

Sunny looked at Twilight, certain that her look of absolute confusion was obvious. Twilight looked back, glanced really, before glaring at the rainbow one with so much fire that somehow felt familiar in a bad, but also so right way.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she spoke, voice shaking, but Sunny couldn't tell if it was her nerves or the cold, or if she was just that mad. "I've never seen you a day in my life. I don't know who this, uh, 'Sunset' is. Or you for that matter. I'm not your friend.  And I don't think I'd want to be." Twilight paused, and Sunny couldn't blame her. Rainbow's expression was one that could stop her, too. Confusion? Pain? Some mixture probably.

"Twilight, what? I-I don't get it..." the girl glanced at everything but her eyes. She made no move closer, but also none further away. "What are you saying, Twi? I helped you—."

"Don't," Twilight cut in, "call me 'Twi'." Warm arms embraced Sunny, and something warm pressed against the back of her head. "Just go away." Twilight's tired voice was muffled, but Sunny could hear her. "Just leave us alone."

Judging by Rainbow's utterly confused and hurt expression, she heard Twilight, too.

"I don't... I..." She worked her mouth silently, before meeting Sunny's gaze again.

Maybe this was her chance. Twilight wouldn't like it.

Sorry, Twilight.

Inhale.

"P-pleashe don't go." Their eyes were locked, but the girl wasn't biting. C'mon, how could she get her to stay? "I'lll be your f-f-friendd." She felt Twilight's arms tighten.

Sorrow welled on both Sunny's and the strange girl's faces as she abruptly drove her bike partway across the lot.

But then she suddenly stopped.

Was she coming back?

The rainbow girl pulled her smartphone out of her pocket, pointing the back of her blue case towards Sunny. This hadn't occurred for more than a moment before Shining Armor was crouching between her and the girl.

After another couple of moments, the girl rolled away from the diner, out of the parking lot, and down a slowly dimming street.

Things were still and silent and cold.

Inhale. "Wwhat jusht happened?" Exhale.

A beat.

Twilight started talking, but stopped when Shining had already started speaking, his quiet deadpan neatly cutting through the cool air.

"I think you just got rejected."

"Shiny..."

"Just calling it how I saw it."

"Shiny, stop." Twilight didn't move from her spot.

"Okay, sorry Twily."

Inhale. "I jusht wwanted to ask her aboutt Shunshet..." The rest of her breath left her in a sad sigh.

"Sunset. Like Sunset Shimmer?" Twilight asked. Sunny nodded, knowing that Twilight would feel it. More importantly, she could see Shining Armor's eyes slowly widen as his face fell to dread. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but. Uh. Isn't she the one that the news and bloggers are talking about? The one who died?"

Sunset took a breath, but Shining Armor didn't need that kind of preparation. "Mhm, that's her. But enough about that, huh? This day's sad enough already. Uh here," Shining pulled his wallet out from his back pocket, tapping one of Twilight's hands with it until she grabbed it, "go ahead and pay Joe before he sends some muscle to collect. And a couple boxes of donuts. And Spike, I guess."

"Be nice."

"Am I ever not?" Twilight didn't answer. She also didn't un-burrow herself from Sunny's back. "Twily..."

"I'm going." Sunny felt her nod and her arms loosen, before pulling away entirely. "I'll, uh, be right back.

"Sure. Make sure you give him a good tip." Sunny heard the door open and close behind her, but she was too busy staring at Shining Armor who was, in turn, staring at her.

Inhale—.

"Did you know her?"

Oh? That's another tricky one. "I th-think sho." Sunset's head rolled from one shoulder to the other in thought. "Sh-she seeemed really f-f-familiar. Whenn she firsht w-walked in. But afterr..." Sunny shook her head, forlorn. "I didn't re-recognize her at alll."

Shining slowly nodded, regarding her. After another moment of mutual staring, he rose to his feet, offering a hand.

"C'mon, let's get in the car."

In. "Oh. Y-y-you'll help me?" Out.

"No, I just want to see if somebody taught you how to shake yet." 

She looked up in confusion. He sighed.

"Yes, just take my hand."

In. "Okhay." She took his hand, and he firmly but gently lifted her up to her feet. He quickly established their balance in a practiced stance, but... "W-woww," she quietly wheezed, "you're k-kinda cold." 

"Hm... I don't think I like hearing that from a corpse."

In. "I wwant Twi-light to c-c-carry me." 

"And I don't want you anywhere near Twilight."

Sunny blinked.

"...O-oh..." Out.

Shining Armor opened the front passenger door and carefully lifted Sunny into the seat, the seatbelt sliding in place with a click.

In. "Shee's g-g-g-going to ffind out who I am. Tw-Twilight's shmart." Out.

"Just don't tell Twilight," was his firm reply. "Don't 'confirm' it, don't imply it; just don't."

In. "D-d-do you believe mme then?" Out. 

He stoically regarded her again for a just moment, before gently shutting the passenger-side door. Once again, she was alone. Alone in a cold, little box—.

'Don't think about that don't think about that don't think about that...' 

In an attempt to distract herself, she practiced her foot movements by idly kicking around a silver thermos, whose only crime was to be left in the foot-space. 'I wonder how long it was here.' That's it, just keep the memory away. 'Is it still lonely?' Thankfully, it wasn't long before the driver door opened and Shining Armor threw himself into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut with car-shaking force.

He started the car and twisted some knobs. Besides the whirring of the arcane mechanism of an 'automobile', there was silence.

"No," he suddenly said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye,"but I can't disprove it. So I'll play along. For now."

Her mouth began moving but stopped. Embarrassed at again trying to speak and breathe in the wrong order, she tried again. "S-so you'll hhelp me?" Sunny tried to keep her volume low in case she could still somehow choke on air, but her excitement was palpable.

He let out an exasperated sigh, raking his fingers through his hair, looking notably more tired than a few minutes ago. "Let's say I did," he said, "hypothetically," he further emphasized after watching Sunny try and fail to clap her hands in glee. "If I did help you, what, give you our info on yourself?" She nodded happily, probably a little too excited. "Right. What would you even do with that?"

Sunny nodded in thought, still smiling. 'What could I do with that?' Get a job and feed herself? Ha. In the end that knowledge is pretty useless, but it meant something to her. That's all that mattered.

She just wanted back the one thing she knew she had, she supposed. She just wanted to know.

In. "N-nothing, I guessh." She half exhaled. "I w-want to feeel a little more l-l-like me. I think."

"Hmm." He didn't seem to be so good at talking—no, conversation—anymore. Why was that? "Do you have a home? Where do I drop you off?"

In. "Th-the library'sh f-fine." Out.

He raised an incredulous brow. "The library closes at night, you know."

What—public facilities close around sundown, food places take out trash before closing—oh.

Darn.

In. "I donn't kn-know." Out.

"Mhm." A beat. "So you won't tell Twilight, right? I don't think she can handle that kind of, uh," he cleared his throat, "implication right now."

In. "But laterr?" Sunny couldn't stop the smirk at the way his face twisted. She shouldn't have had fun doing that. She even felt a little guilty. 

"Sunny..." he warned.

In. "S-S-Shining." Out. 

She was still gonna, though.

"If you won't cooperate, then I won't either."

Okay, in moderation then.

In. "Okay." Out.

"Good." Another quiet moment, notably more awkward than most others today. "That's a nice dress." Wow, she didn't know compliments could sound so bland.

Sunny nodded with a smile.

"Where'd you get it?"

Sunny looked down at the dress, pinching and toying with the thin, blue fabric. If she looked closely, it was a little dirtier than when she first looked down at it. 'I've been on the ground too much.' 

She inhaled, but mid-breath, she got an idea.

"I'll tr-rade." He raised a brow in question, turning his face slightly to almost properly face her. "I w-woke up with this dressh. Now you tell m-me shomethingg."

"You already told me, though." Shining Armor went back to staring out of his windshield.

Sunny allowed herself a small smile, one she assumed a disappointed parent would wear. She figured he wouldn't bite, but answers don't come without asking questions.

Silence.

"You..." Shining paused, then tried again. "...Sunset Shimmer doesn't have any known family."

Sunset didn't realize she was facing him until she felt her neck resist her head's movement. She opened her mouth again, but Shining Armor pressed a button, causing the sound of some kind of mechanism shifting throughout the car. Before she could ask what that was, the door behind Shining's opened. 

"Sorry I'm late," Twilight groaned as she climbed into the car and dropped herself into the seat, gently setting down her bag, two small cardboard boxes, and Shining Armor's jacket. "I was, uh, talking to some people in the diner. Oh, here's your wallet, Shiny."

Shining reached over his shoulder, letting Twilight guide his wallet into his waiting hand. "Did anyone give you any trouble?"

"No." Twilight sagged into her seat, yawning into a lazy hand and wiping the errant tears that the action squeezed out. "They were worried, I think. It's alright, though. Oh, Joe gave you a box of donuts for free."

"Really now?"

"Mhm. Said that it was some kind of, uh, 'Officer-Under-Duress-on-His-Day-Off Two-for-One Discount'." Twilight giggled, bringing genuine grins to both Sunny and Shining's face. "He didn't even laugh until after he said it."

"Well that's nice of him. Got the receipt?"

"It's in your wallet."

"Thanks, Twily." He dropped his wallet into a cup-holder. "How're you feeling?"

"W-well, uh..." Twilight took off her glasses, fiddling with the arms. "Um, not gonna lie, I'm feeling pretty dead."

In. "I hearr ya'." Sunny's exhale came in bursts. She tried not to give sound to the chuckles that Shining's expression brought forth.

"It was a pretty crazy day," Shining nodded, decidedly not facing either of the girls. "Go ahead and take a nap, sis. You'll be home soon.

"But what about Sunny? Shouldn't we drop her off first? And Sunny, how are you? That was a lot that just happened. Are, uh, you in any pain?" With each question, she leaned further and further towards, and eventually into, the front seats.

"Seat-belt, Twily."

"A-ah!" She quickly brought herself back and buckled up.

Sunny inhaled, but Shining again cut her off. 

"We'll be dropping Sunny off last, actually." He put the car into drive and easily pulled out of the parking spot. "I've got to talk about some stuff with her anyway. Work stuff." 

"Annd th-thanksh, Twilight." She twisted her head, adjusting her shoulders when her neck alone couldn't give her the view she wanted. "Ph-physic-ally, I'm fine. F-fine enough, anywayy" Sunny grinned. "Yyou helped with th-the resht."

Twilight blushed. "A-ah, well I didn't do much..."

Sunny slowly nodded, breathing in. "Y-you're shcary when you're mmad." Out. She really was, too. That wasn't an expression that she wanted to see again. Sunny was just glad it wasn't pointed at her this time.

"W-what? No!"

"She's right," Shining agreed with a sagely nod. "Very fierce. Like fire."

"Shiny!"

"You should've seen her when I accidentally stacked her notes out of order—."

"Shiny, stop!"

"Ow—Twilight!" The car slightly swerved and lurched. "I thought you were tired—ah! Mercy! I'll call the police!"

As the car rolled away from the diner and gradually warmed up, Sunny smiled. She liked these moments, she decided. Sunny hoped that she could be involved in more of them in the future. The unexpected meeting with the rainbow haired one didn't work out, but it wasn't the end of the world.

Besides, it's not like Sunny ruined her first impression; the rainbow girl did that all by herself. But if they were as close as they looked in that photograph, then she was certain that good old living Sunset would have forgiven her for a simple misunderstanding.

Probably.

Sunny chose not to dwell on why that thought felt like it could've been wrong.
> Silent Night
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Heat  emanated from the flat iron as it cooled down, its duty complete. Idle  humming and morning light livened the room as the girl pulled the black  dress from the closet—buried in a sea of blue and pink as it was—and tossed it  onto the neatly-made bed. The dress was quickly joined by other articles  of clothing: a less-black shirt, knitted gloves, and a matching pair of thick winter stockings—in black, of course.  

Every  now and then, the girl's phone would chime as it notified her of a new  message. Most people would have trouble rushing their wardrobe, but not a  skilled can-assert-herself-into-any-style  individual such as herself. As a proud, master-level multitasker  should, she would tap out replies with one hand whilst dressing with the  other.  

Long,  pink hair flowed with grace as she spun her way to the bed, a whirlwind  of bright colors and varying shades of coal. Soon enough, she was  dressed in a spectrum of unlight,  strategically contrasted against the occasional stripe or splash of  vibrant, pink skin. It all fit well enough—the dress was a little too tight, but oh well—but there was still the finishing touch.  

Lively,  crimson cloth wrapped tightly around her waist. Once she tied the  trailing ends of the wide ribbon into a bow, she speared the knot with a  simple brooch of polished, golden-toned brass. It caught light well,  almost glowing on the dark ensemble. She looked once more into the  mirror. The sash and brooch held her attention—it always did. Those were  Sunset's colors, after all.  

'Yesterday is not today.' She took a deep breath, inhaling gently, preemptively exhaling a tremor away. 'Yesterday is not today.' If only they could've helped Sunset truly understand—.  

Energetic buzzing and chimes filled the air.  

After  a brief pause in their conversation—no more than half a minute, but  longer than usual—her texting partner had finally responded. Shaking  herself out of her mood, she hopped onto her bed. Using both of her  hands to carry the gravity of what she was about to say, she typed her  final response.  

"Heart... you... Dash...ie!" Sent.  

Gentle breathing  was the only sound she made as she stared at her phone. Rainbow Dash  would take an extra moment to respond; she never really knew how. Despite knowing this, she would wait.  

A chime and a shake. "Thnx," Dash said. It was a simple and aloof response, but that meant that Rainbow saw it, read it. All that mattered was that her friends knew that she loved them. Even if she had to spam them until they read it on some days.  

"Maud!"  Pinkie hollered, stowing away her phone, leaping from her bed and  skipping down the hall, "I'm heading out!" At the door, Pinkie slid into  her thick,  black, woolen coat, and started lacing up her boots. By the time that  Maud had blearily stepped her way to the entrance, Pinkie was getting  ready to wrap her favorite candy-striped scarf.  

"Early morning?" Maud intoned in that way that only Pinkie could read so well, like how one would read a stone.  

"Rainbow  Dash called for an emergency meeting," Pinkie explained, stepping  forward to meet her stoic sister in a good morning hug, "so I just need  to get some stuff. I've been neglecting my emergency party reserves a  little," she laughed, somewhat embarrassed. A beat passed. "We'll be  meeting here at around five." Maud remained silent. "Oh, and I need to  stop by Rarity's." Despite the silence and stillness, Pinkie didn't  relent in her hug.  

With sluggishly steady arms, Maud returned the embrace, twice as tightly as Pinkie gave. "Okay. Be safe."  

"Don't worry, I will."  

"I love you."  

"Aww! I love you, too, Maudie!" Pinkie giggled.  

The sisters allowed their embrace to linger a bit longer. Once separated, Maud's eyes lazily scanned Pinkie's appearance—.  

Maud's eyebrow twitched. So did Pinkie's spine.  

Uh oh.  

Maud  reached out with one hand and, with a light tug, unzipped a small line  of Pinkie's coat. It was all that she needed to see.  

"Isn't this my dress—?"  

"Gotta go be back later bye Maud!" Pinkie blurted as she broke away, haphazardly wrapped her scarf, and sprung out of the door, trusting that Maud would shut the door behind her.  

Pinkie's  frantic run turned into a steady skip, then finally an energetic walk  after she nearly slipped on some exceptionally invisible ice. There weren't  that many people out and about that early in the morning, so she got to  spend a little bit of extra time greeting the occasional friend and  neighbor that she passed by.  

They greeted her happily, and every now and then, they offered her their condolences for her friend. It was just a thing that you say to somebody in mourning, really. Most of them didn't even know anything about Sunset beyond that she was Pinkie's friend—of this,  Pinkie was well aware. Even after two weeks they offered their  condolences. Even after two weeks, she thanked them every time. The  pattern continued down the street, around the block, on the bus, and at  the store. Greetings were passed, smiles were exchanged, and hugs were  shared.  

During the moments between greetings, Pinkie updated the rest of The Rainbooms—well, former Rainbooms—on the situation and the meetup. Applejack was pretty quick to respond, as per usual around this time of day, with an affirmative. Fluttershy was only a few minutes behind Applejack, the two quickly coordinating to arrive together.  

>Flutterzz!: 430 is fine. Ty!  

>Ayy Jayyy!: K see u then
Wat abt u Rares 

At that point, the conversation paused. Pinkie checked her phone again after five minutes. Then fifteen. Then thirty.  

No response from Rarity.  

About as expected.  

As  Pinkie made her rounds, she sent some messages to Rarity, just so that  she could say that she tried before dropping in 'unannounced'.  

>You: Rarity, emergency friendship—  

Pinkie quickly deleted the word.  

—magic meeting 5pm @ my hous!!  

If  Rarity did respond, it likely wouldn't have been for fifteen-to-twenty  minutes. It was for that reason that Pinkie waited to check her phone  again until after she checked out from the store, arms laden with bags.  The shopping trip had taken about thirty minutes.  

Rarity hadn't responded.  

'Maybe she was in the bathroom or bathtub or something!' It was a nice thought, but Pinkie knew that if Rarity even saw the message, she wouldn't be responding at all today.  

Better to have kept trying anyway.  

>You: Think ur gonna make it?  

A  fifteen-minute wait at the bus stop. After exchanging smiles, trading  words, and paying her fare, Pinkie took her seat and drew her phone,  quickly switching over to the most recent string of texts she shared  with Rarity's little sister.  

>You: Gmornin Sweetie! Rarity home?  

After only a few minutes Sweetie Belle replied.  

>Sweetie Belle: Good morning Pinkie! Yes.  

>You: Ok ty c u soon! <3 u!  

Sweetie didn't respond. Pinkie switched back over to Rarity's messages.  

>You: R u okay??  

Ten minutes, and still no response. After a brief glance out of the window, Pinkie signaled the driver to stop.  

>You: Ill b there 5min  

Sent.  

>You: <3 u, Rarity!  

She  disembarked from the bus and began walking down the street. It didn’t  take long, though the bags did come close to weighing down on her. Only a  couple of greetings and fifteen minutes later, she was in front of  Rarity’s house, ringing the doorbell.  

Click.  

"Hey, Sweetie Belle!" Pinkie called before the door had finished opening.  

"Hi,  Pinkie," Sweetie smiled tiredly, holding the door open for Pinkie to  enter. Pinkie did, dropping her shopping bags at the entrance and  scooping up Sweetie in her arms, making her squeak as Pinkie gave her a  hearty and extra-squeezy  hug. "A-are you looking for Rarity...?" the young girl wheezed, quickly  squeezing Pinkie back and frantically patting the bigger girl's arm in a  plea for mercy.  

"Mhm!"  Pinkie set her back down. "One of the girls called an emergency, so we  need to rally the troops!" Pinkie snapped into an overly stern-faced  salute, before allowing her body to relax. "But that’s later. For now,  how have you been? It's been a little while since I saw you."  

"It's only been three days."  

"Yup!"  Pinkie giggled at the exasperated sigh that Sweetie heaved, a more  subdued—no, ‘less dramatic’—subconscious imitation of her sister’s.  

“I’ve been...” Sweetie Belle’s brow furrowed as she opened her mouth to say something, only to hesitate and close it. “...I’ve been alright.”  

“Are you sure?” Pinkie crouched down before the girl, bringing their eyes level. “You don’t sound alright...”  

“Yes, I’m fine.” Sweetie couldn’t meet Pinkie’s eyes, preferring instead to look down to the floor. “I’m just tired is all.”  

“C’mon Sweetie Belle, I can tell something’s  bothering you.” Pinkie gave Sweetie her best smile, laying her hand on  the girl’s small shoulder with a reassuring squeeze. “Go ahead and let  it out. Tell Auntie Pinkie all about—.”  

“I said ‘I’m fine!’” Pinkie pulled her hand away as though she were burned, shocked by the young girl’s acidic tone.  

‘Uh oh.’  

For the normally sweet and demure Sweetie Belle to snap at her like that, something must have been seriously bothering her. Something that Pinkie couldn’t help with. Or maybe Pinkie could...  

No. No, it wasn’t her place—not yet. Hopefully, Rarity would get through to her. Was Rarity getting through to her?  

Was Rarity even trying anymore?  

“I’m sorry, Pinkie,” Sweetie whispered. “I just...”  

“N-no  no! No need to be sorry; I was being too pushy is all, ha ha...” Pinkie  cleared her throat awkwardly. “I’ll just—I’m going to go catch up with  Rarity.” She stood back on her feet, stepping forward to pull the girl  into a more subdued embrace. “See you on my way out?”  

Sweetie reciprocated, lightly wrapping her arms around the larger girl. But did Sweetie appreciate the hug and what it meant? Was she just doing what was expected of her, or what she thought would be polite?  

“Yeah. I’ll be in the kitchen.”  

“Alright,  see you then!” Pinkie stepped away and Sweetie didn’t resist. After the  barest moment of hesitation, Pinkie turned and skipped away.  

Pinkie skipped to the staircase, sprinted on all fours up the stairs—like how everybody who is able to should—and spun the short distance down the hall to Rarity’s door.  

Just three light knock, knock, knocks.  

“Raaaarityyyyy!” Pinkie whisper-shouted through the door. Hopefully Rarity was awake.  

A muffled thump sounded from within the shut room, something fell to the carpeted floor. Rarity was probably awake, then. Pinkie started counting the seconds.  

One...  

Two...  

Five...  

Fifteen...  

...Thirty.  

Knock. Knock. Knock.  

“Psssst!” Pinkie hissed as though the whole house couldn’t hear her, “I have a message for you. It’s urgent!”  

One...  

Fifteen...  

Thirty.  

Knock-knock-knock.  

“Rarityyy—!”  

Click.  

The  door quietly cracked open just enough to reveal the unlit room, the  curtains only allowing enough light to remind an onlooker that it was,  in fact, day time. The most notable things  that Pinkie could see, however, was the neatly made bed, the spotless  carpeted floor, and the open and organized closet. Everything that she saw in the room was as spotless as when Rarity cleaned it over a week ago.  

The same could not be said for Rarity. No, Rarity could only be classified as an absolute mess.  

Only  half of Rarity’s body was visible through the narrow gap in the  doorway, but it was all that Pinkie needed to see. Rarity’s hair was  tangled and unkept. Her nails were chipped, her face oily, her robes  askew, her slippers on the wrong feet, and the smell wafting off from  her lingered heavily somewhere between stale and ripe.  

Rarity was as much of a mess on the outside as she was a week ago. Goodness knows how she was in her head.  

Pinkie really needed to find a way to get her out of it.  

“Hi,  Rarity!” Pinkie waved from her side of the door, recognizing Rarity’s  unwillingness to open the door any further for what it was.  

“He—,”  Rarity swallowed and cleared her throat, voice heavy with fatigue.  Judging by the scent that struck Pinkie’s nose, Rarity had likely only  just gotten out of bed. Judging by the way Rarity started holding her  hand in front of her lips as she spoke, she also recognized the aroma  that emanated from her mouth. “...Hello, Pinkie Pie.”  

“H-hey, hi, Rarity! I uh,” Pinkie furrowed her brow in thought, trying to remember—, “Ah! There’s a magic emergency! The girls’ll be meeting up at my place at five. Can you make it?”  

When Rarity sighed, Pinkie already knew the answer.  

“I’m afraid not, darling. I still have some things  I need to get in order, and...” Rarity shifted on her feet, going  nowhere. “...Well, I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather as well.  Surely, you understand?”  

“Well,  yeah, I get you,” Pinkie started, “because I’ve got a ton of stock to  resupply and fix up, Applejack’s got her farm chores that spiked this season for some reason even though it’s winter, Fluttershy’s got her animal friends to feed, and Twilight’s Twilight—actually is Twilight even going to be there? I should’ve asked Dashie. But anyway—yeah, I understand, but this is important." Pinkie pressed herself against the doorframe, not mentioning how Rarity moved to hide herself further behind it. “We’re the only ones who can even try to take care of magic stuff in the whole city, so you gotta come! Will you pleeeeeease?”  

“Pinkie, I—.”  

“And besides, you need to get out of this house! I mean, when was the last time you left to go get groceries or anything,  because I know you never go out without doing your hair and it looks  like you haven’t brushed it in a while. I bet you’ll get the energy you  need after some fresh air and some good ole T-L-and-C from your  friends—!”  

“Pinkie, please!”  Pinkie stopped, already reading Rarity’s expression. There was truly no  convincing her, but it was always worth a try. “Pinkie, just... I’ll  see what I can do.”  

Of course she would.  

“Really? Because this could be important.” Did Rarity really get how serious this was?  

“Yes, Pinkie. I’ll try.”  

“Promise me.”  

Suddenly, Pinkie’s heart was pounding.  

Why did she say that? How could she box Rarity in like that? Isn’t that cruel?  

More importantly, what would Rarity do? Would she backtrack? It’s alright if she wanted to lie, but how far would she go?  

A beat of silence, uncomfortably shifting into two beats, then three.  

“...I promise.”  

Pinkie wanted to cry. She felt like she had just lost something precious.  

“...Okay.” Pinkie sniffed, hoping the tears that were building beneath her eyes weren’t too obvious. “I-I’ll see you then?”  

“Yes, of course. In case I can’t though, let me know how it goes.”  

‘If’, she said, ha. 'Don’t bother with the jokes, Rarity; that’s my job.’  

Pinkie  pushed down the sudden surge of energy, stirred by... frustration?  Anger? Even then, anger towards who? Towards what? Rarity? Herself? CHS?  Everything?  

The vague rush of feelings made her feel guilty, anyway.  

“Okay. Just in case.”  

“Right.”  

Pinkie didn’t know what to say. She just felt lost.  

Apparently, Rarity didn’t know what to say either.  

“Have a nice day, Pinkie Pie.” Rarity started closing the door.  

“You  too—oh!” Pinkie’s hand shot out and stopped the door from closing. From  the other side, Rarity pulled it back slightly, returning the door to  its previous ajar state. “Rarity, there’s one more thing,” Pinkie whispered, lowly, this time intending to not be heard by anyone else.  

Rarity sighed at her antics. “Pinkie, darling, what is it this time?”  

“It’s about Sweetie Belle.”  

That caught Rarity’s attention.  

“What?” she gasped, before lowering her voice to a whisper as well. “What’s wrong with Sweetie Belle? Is she alright?”  

“I don’t know.” Pinkie shook her head. “Something’s bothering her. I remember she was devastated when...  well, you know.” Rarity flinched, but nodded slowly. “She took it  really hard, all of the little ones did, but she seemed to bounce back a  bit. But Rarity, she nearly yelled at me today—.”  

“What did you do?” Rarity wasn’t angry, just confused. “That doesn’t sound like her...”  

“I’m not mad at her or anything. I pressed just a little bit too much, I think. She just looked so down, like she had something  on her mind that was weighing her down. I just wanted to hear her out,  maybe make her feel a little better. I figured it was still about  Sunset—I know I still  cry sometimes—but then...” Pinkie reached in and gently took Rarity’s  hand in her own, softly rubbing her thumb over her knuckles. “I don’t  know Rarity. Maybe I’m just being crazy ole Pinkie again, but I’m  worried about her. I have a feeling it’s important.”  

“I...” Rarity swallowed thickly. “Thank you for telling me.”  

“Even  if you don’t come today,” Pinkie whispered, trying not grit her teeth  or bite her lip or let slip a tear, “please, at least talk to her about  it. She’s hurt. Promise.”  

“She’s  my sister, of course I will. I promise.” Was Rarity being honest that  time? Pinkie couldn’t tell. From now on, she would never be able to  tell, not with Rarity.  

“Okay,” Pinkie decided to say. “Thank you.”  

“No, darling, thank you.” Pinkie really hoped Rarity was as sincere as she sounded. Pinkie gave Rarity’s hand a squeeze.  

“I love you.”  

She felt Rarity freeze in her hand, before giving her a reassuring squeeze back.  

“I-I love you, too, dear. I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”  

“You’re you. That’s all that matters.” A beat passed. “I’m heading back now.”  

“Of course. Have a nice day.”  

‘Not ‘see you later,’’ Pinkie noted.  

“You, too.” Only a single moment later, the door clicked shut.  

The  weight of emotion dragged her down to a subdued pace as she descended  the steps, turning into the kitchen. There she saw Sweetie Belle,  indulging in a sandwich and a glass of milk.  

“Bologna for breakfast?” Pinkie grinned, well aware that everybody knew that she wasn’t one to talk.  

Sweetie finished her bite and swallowed. “I’m not allowed near the kitchen outlets, gas lines, or anything that connects to them. Except the fridge.” Sweetie grumbled behind her hand. That got a much-needed giggle out of Pinkie.  

“Oh  Sweetie, you’re so funny! I’m heading out now,” Pinkie said, spreading  her arms wide and approaching the girl in her chair, “so c’mon, lemme get one last hug.”  

“Okay.”  Sweetie Belle set down her sandwich, turning to hop out of her chair,  but was already engulfed by Pinkie’s arms before she could move.  Comfortable enough, she wrapped her arms around Pinkie’s body, clutching  the fabric of Pinkie’s coat. “Thanks, Pinkie,” Sweetie mumbled, into Pinkie’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry about before.”  

“Don’t worry about it, Sweetie; you’ve got a lot on your mind. Just remember that I love you, okay?”  

Sweetie hugged a little tighter, buried her face into Pinkie’s shoulder a little deeper. “Thank you,” Sweetie said, voice notably softer. “I love you, too. I’m sorry.”  

“It’s okay, Sweetie, we all are. One day, things will get better. Just do your best, okay?” Sweetie nodded into her shoulder and maintained the hug a little longer.  

Pinkie  pulled away, trying to discretely wipe the small well of tears that  gathered in her eyes, only to see Sweetie do the same thing. “Look at us,” she giggled with a wet sniff, “we do this every time. Anyway,” she continued before Sweetie could respond, “I need to get going. Have a good one!”  

Sweetie  herself sniffed before getting up to follow Pinkie so that she could  lock the door. “Have a nice day, Pinkie. Thanks again.”  

“No problem! And,” she leaned down, bringing their faces close, speaking in a conspiratory whisper, “take care of your sister, okay? She needs you now more than ever.”  

Pinkie didn’t miss the way Sweetie’s face fell a little.  

“I’ll do my best, Pinkie.”  

“Good.”  Pinkie got up and picked up her grocery bags, stepping out of the now  open door. “I love you!” she called over her shoulder.  

“Bye, Pinkie; love you, too!” The door closed shut behind her. Finally on her return trip once more, Pinkie let her tears flow free.  

On  the way back, she was occasionally greeted by friends, friends of  friends, and eventually neighbors. Occasionally, they offered her their  condolences, just as they had for the past two weeks. Because she was  still in mourning, she thanked them all.  

With the steadily growing list of things she was losing, she would be in mourning for a long time.  



 

The  sun had set long ago by the time that Rainbow Dash had arrived. Rainbow  simply let her bike coast down the lamp-lit stone path to Pinkie’s  house, shivering no less than when she left Donut Joe’s Diner. Along the  way she had stopped into a number of storefronts to warm up. Sometimes,  she was greeted warmly, which was a nice break. She’d linger in those  places for a little while, ordering hot water in restaurants or nothing  at all. Out of compassion, the owners, managers, or workers would just  let her hang out and warm up. She had a chance to sit down and clear her  mind a little.  

They let her breathe.  

It was nice.  

Otherwise, she only stayed in long enough to get feeling back into her fingers and left before anybody could say anything. Even then, they were somehow both stinging in agony and numb.  

Ghosting  fingers over the side of Applejack’s truck as she passed, Rainbow  hopped the bike up to the porch, dropped the kickstand, and dismounted  in a well-practiced procedure. She opened the door, quickly slamming it  against the stiff breeze behind her.  

With  a stampede of movement, Pinkie-in-black was suddenly in the main  corridor. Her face was bright with excitement, but dulled slightly upon  seeing her. 'What’s with that?’  

Whatever  was ‘with that’ must not have been that important, as Pinkie had thrown  herself into a hearty embrace just as she always did and thank goodness, Pinkie was really warm.  

Hot, even.  

‘No homo,’ she joked to herself with a chuckle as she burrowed deeper into the embrace. Gilda would’ve laughed at that one.  

“Dashie, you made it!” Pinkie shouted in an almost-whisper.  

“Well duh,” Dash replied, matching her volume and tone, “I’m the one who called it! Still doin’ the goth thing, huh?”  

“Shhhh, Dashie, shhhhh—you’ll wake up Maud and Boulder!” As if Pinkie wouldn’t do that herself, right? “You’re really super cold! What happened? Where’s your jacket?”  

“I dropped it. I’ll explain in a bit.”  

“Dashieeeee, you shouldn’t drop things that you need! What if you need them later?!”  

Darn it, why did Pinkie have to be so annoying?  

‘Ah, whatever,’ Dash thought with a smile.  

Knowing  that Pinkie wouldn’t be letting go any soon—not that Rainbow was  complaining—Dash deftly kicked off her shoes and began leading the  four-legged mass of black, blue, pink, rainbow, and hugs back into  Pinkie’s room. Carefully maneuvering into the doorway, she saw Fluttershy and Applejack, chatting. Then they caught sight of her.  

“Well howdy, Dash! Been a while.”  

“Hello, Rainbow Dash! It’s nice to see you again.”  

“Hey  girls, it’s good to see you. I mean it.” She really did. She called the  meeting out of fear and excitement, but never expected to be that happy just to see them. Something like the joy in hanging out with them normally, but somehow more? She couldn’t explain it.  

Her arms found the energy to give Pinkie a squeeze.  

“So Dashie, why’d you call the meeting, huh?”  

Rainbow blinked, leaning her head back to maneuver around Pinkie’s. “Wait, but where’s Rarity—?”  

“Where d’ya think, Dash?” Applejack crossed her arms with a grimace. Dash felt Pinkie sag in her arms.  

“She couldn’t make it,” Pinkie murmured over her shoulder, strangely subdued. “She tried, though.”  

Right, of course she did. Dash should’ve known better, but it never killed to hope. Sometimes, it just hurts.  

“...Right. Well,” Rainbow cleared her throat, “I don’t think it would matter too much if she were here anyway.”  

Oh yeah, that got their collective attention in a bad way.  

“W-uhm,” Fluttershy murmured. fidgeting in her seat, “w-why would you say that?”  

“Well I’d love to explain, but I think I’ve got something that I need to get off my chest first.” That got a chuckle out of the farm girl.  

“Go on, Dashie,” Pinkie cooed, patting her head, probably the same way she pet her lizard, “go ahead and let it out.”  

“She’s talkin’ about you, Pinkie.”  

“...Oh, fine.” Finally getting the hint, Pinkie let go of Dash and moved to step away.  

Dash was pulled along with her.  

Rainbow’s arms were still locked around Pinkie’s back.  

‘Huh?’  

“Uh, Dashie? I already let go you know...”  

“H-huh? I—yeah... I just, uh...” Dash was lost. What was she doing? “I, lemme  just...” She couldn’t bring herself to let go. Why couldn’t she let go?  She tried to relax her arms, but they stayed firmly wrapped around her  friend and she couldn’t work up the will to force them off. Fluttershy and Applejack both stood up, eyes wide with alarm.  

“R-Rainbow Dash, are you... alright?” Fluttershy hesitated. Why did she hesitate? What was she afraid of?  

“Yeah, g-great. W-why?”  

“I-I mean, well...” Fluttershy shuffled her feet nervously the way she always did;  she knew what to say but didn’t know how she should say it.  “Y-you’re... uh...” Rainbow wished that she’d just blurt it out, because  she was kind of starting to freak out—.  

“Dash, you’re cryin’.”  

‘What?’ Now that Applejack mentioned it, her cheeks were a little wet. Ah heck, another one just rolled down her cheek didn’t it—it did, she felt it.  

“O-oh.”  

Warm  arms wrapped around her chilled body again. Pinkie’s hand resumed its  petting of Rainbows head, the playful condescension from the previous  time replaced with concern and care. “Dashie? You’re shaking, are you alright?”  

She was crying, wasn’t she? She could feel them—the tears just came faster and faster until they were streaming down her face. How many of those did she even have left?  

“D-darn,”  Rainbow Dash chuckled hoarsely with a wet sniff, “I-I thought that,  that I already ran out of these, heh...” She tried to shakily laugh it  off, but her situation was unsalvageable. Well if she was going to fall  apart, she could at least do it with dignity. “H-hey, girls?”  

“Um, y-yes?”  

“What’s up, Dash? You’re scarin’ me.”  

“Could, uh,” Rainbow swallowed a lump in her throat, arms tightening around Pinkie’s warm body. She refused to lower her head. Her artificially easy smile trembled. “N-not gonna lie, girls, I think I could really use some hu-some hugs right now. C-could you, I, uh, uh...”  

Not another word was said as Applejack and Fluttershy  stepped around Rainbow Dash. Without pause, Dash felt their bodies  press against her sides and back. She felt the warmth of her friends and  the subtle pulses of their still-beating hearts. She felt their hands  petting her head, rubbing circles on her back, massaging her shoulder,  and Dash’s chest heaved.  

“Dash, what happened to you—?”  

“Shh, Applejack,” Fluttershy  cut in, “j-just let her get her thoughts in order, okay? It’s okay,  Rainbow,” she whispered against Rainbow’s shoulder. “Take your time.  We’ve got you. We’re here...”  

Dash  kept her head held high against Pinkie’s as her newfound tears flowed  down her face. She’d be running out of those again soon enough. Her  chest trembled with shuddering breaths but she didn’t dare give her  cries a voice. She was determined to remain silent until  someone—Applejack? Fluttershy?  Didn’t matter—gave her body a squeeze, forcing air to escape her mouth  in a small whimper. That one whimper was followed by many, many more.  Dash grunted and growled as she tried to strangle the pathetic sounds  down, but they just kept coming and Dash was so tired.  

‘Screw it. Screw it—screw everything.’ If  she was going to make noise anyway, she was going to be as loud as she  wanted. Whimpers grew into sobs grew into wails and she was gasping and  wheezing. But then she remembered something about Pinkie’s sister sleeping but she was already in too deep and couldn’t stop crying but  she needed to calm down—to keep her head. She hunched over, burying her  face in Pinkie’s shoulder to muffle her wails. The puddle on Pinkie’s  clothes wouldn’t be getting any larger—she had already cried herself dry  once more—but the act itself wouldn’t let her escape its momentum.  

Rainbow’s  legs lost the will to stand, but her friends were there to collectively  ease the huddle to the ground. Seated on the soft carpet and surrounded  by warmth, Rainbow felt her body start to relax and unwind. Faster than  she could realize, one minute turned into two, then five, then thirty.  Eventually, her wails softened into sobs, then into sorrowful moans  against Pinkie’s shoulder. Her eyes, face, neck and joints were sore.  Her throat was raw. Her fingers still stung the pain of a thousand  needles.  

Somehow, that was the most comfortable she had been all day.  

‘What a heck of a day it’s been, too,’ she  reflected. It was just supposed to be another routine day: visit Sunset  in the morning, look for leads on either her killer or Anon-A-Miss, and  when—if she failed that, she’d just... Do something.  Check in on the squirt, or hang out in front of Rarity’s door. Maybe  visit Gilda, since she just got done with her municipally mandated  sleepover. That could’ve been fun.  

But then Twilight had to bring Sunset back from the dead.  

She turned that over in her head for a while. How could that be possible? Why would that be possible. As the day went on and she dug deeper, everything she learned made less sense.  

How could she possibly explain this?  

‘From the beginning’ would have to work.  

From her place in the center of the huddle, head on Pinkie’s shoulder, she told them everything. She told them about the mementos, how  they were many and that some of them she had placed into Sunset’s  coffin herself. She told them that she recognized each one, including  her lucky pick. She told them that of all of the things that were there, Sunset’s magical journal wasn’t, so of course she was going to try and hunt the grave-robber down. 

She did not tell them about how she wept on Sunset’s grave. 

She probably didn’t even need to. 

She told them about the old man who told Rainbow about Watermelody and some girl named ‘Sunny Song’. Her voice hitched when she told them that Sunny Song was actually Sunset’s reanimated body. 

She could feel the Pinkie’s and Fluttershy’s ministrations on her body twitch or pause.  

Applejack froze. 

“D-Dash,” Applejack began, voice carefully even. Rainbow knew that she’d be the hardest one to convince. 

“Applejack, um,” Fluttershy tried to head off the storm, “m-maybe we should just let her... I mean she probably didn’t, uh...”  

But Applejack stayed firm on the matter, releasing herself from the huddle. Dash couldn’t see her, but she could hear and feel Applejack circle around so that she could face her from behind Pinkie.  

“Sorry, Fluttershy, but I need to hear this. Dash, tell me what you just said again.”  

Taking  a breath, Rainbow lifted her head just high enough from Pinkie’s  shoulder to be able to meet Applejacks blank stare with a defiant one of  her own.  

“I  said,” Dash murmured through a clenched jaw, speaking lowly and slowly  to try keep the trembles in her voice to a minimum, “that the old guy  pointed me to a girl named Sunny Song, who I thought was just somebody disguised as Sunset. But after I saw her, I realized it was actually Sunset’s body.”   

Rainbow could hear and feel how Pinkie’s breath hitched, as well as how Fluttershy pulled back. Applejack held Rainbow’s gaze for a moment, analyzing her, then slowly nodded her head. 

“Sunset’s dead body.” 

Rainbow nodded. 

“Just up and walkin’ around.” 

Rainbow ground her teeth, but nodded. 

“D-Dashie...” Pinkie didn’t loosen her embrace, but did lean her tear-streaked face away to see Rainbow’s. “...you’re not... I mean, this isn’t—I know you never would, not about something like this. But you... this sounds like a really mean prank. I mean,” Pinkie chuckled, unsure, “you’re telling us our best friend is a, a zombie or something! That’s, that can’t be real, right?” 

“It is real,  Pinkie. I...” Rainbow couldn’t help the shudder as the memories flowed  through her. “She was so cold, Pinkie. So cold, and her makeup was all  wrong. She was even wearing Rarity’s dress—the same one she was buried  in. Her eyes, her hands—everything. I’ve never felt a d-dead body before, but if I did, then it would feel just like hers.”  

“Dash, you need to stop.” Applejack  put a hand on her shoulder that she probably thought was supposed to be  reassuring. “I’m worried about you, Dash. I tried not to get on your  case too much about this wild chase you’ve put yourself on, but this—this delusion’s gone too far—.” 

“I took a picture of them to make sure. I needed something to prove it to myself, too.” Rainbow Dash hesitantly released her hold on Pinkie, who sluggishly slid into a more comfortable position. Fluttershy,  similarly tear streaked but notably more dazed, moved away as well,  resulting in the girls forming a misshapen circle upon Pinkie’s carpet. 

The hug was nice while it lasted. 

Rainbow drew out her phone and unlocked it, quietly searching  for the latest photos. They weren’t too hard to find; she put them into  their own album just to convince herself that she didn’t imagine it as  well.  

“Here. I took this before I left the diner.” Handing the phone over to Applejack, she just watched as the others shifted to stare at the screen.  

There was a gasp from Fluttershy and a soft curse from Applejack. Beyond that, the room was silent.  

Fluttershy leaned in, pressing fingers to the screen. Zooming in, probably. “S-she looks just like her...”  

“W-well, what you can see of her, anyway,” Applejack hesitantly nodded. Rainbow snorted.  

“Look, I was shivering alright? And that guy kept getting in the way.”  

“Wait a sec’,” Applejack squinted, “is that Twilight?” 

“Yeah. She was sitting with Sunset—’s body, Sunset’s body—when I got there. She, uh...” Rainbow rubbed her arm where one of the girls did so before, “...she wasn’t happy to see me.” 

“Um, who’s that man?”  

“He called himself ‘Shining Armor’. He was there with Twilight and... yeah.”  

“Right, but who’s he supposed to be?”  

Rainbow Dash sighed and shrugged, watching with something close to amusement as Pinkie kept leaning in closer and closer to the phone. “I don’t know. He seemed pretty close to Twilight, though. I was thinking maybe her bodyguard or boyfriend or something.”  

“B-boyfriend? Really? Um, but what about—?”  

“Don’t know and don’t care—he could’ve been Crown Prince of Ponyland for all the good that is. All I know is that he was in my way.”  

“Yes, I guess it’s not too important. But wait, if he were a soldier, you would have been in real trouble—!”  

“That’s not Twilight,” Pinkie cut in, staring intently at the phone. “Not our Twilight, anyway.”  

That got her some stares. Dash knew if she let her, Pinkie would do her cryptic mystic thing. “What are you talking about, Pinks?”  

To Dash’s surprise, Pinkie was pretty forthcoming this time. “I’ve seen her before. At first I thought that she lived in the city, because I saw her one day earlier this  year when she was walking her dog around the estates; the ones near the  inner-city rim. I—,” Pinkie interrupted herself with a deep gasp. “Was Twilight acting weird?”  

Dash raised a brow and nodded. “She... She hated my guts. She didn’t want anything to do with me. She probably...” Dash wanted to say that it finally hit Twilight how much Rainbow could have done.  

She thought better of it. 

“...nevermind. But what’re you talking about, Pinks? ‘Not our Twilight,’” Rainbow shook her head, “it’s not like we had any spares to give away.” 

Pinkie’s hands played with the trailing ends of her hair,  eyes wide. “When we first met, Twilight said that she had a twin sister  with a twin dog named ‘Spike’ in the city, but obviously that was a lie  since she only just got here from the portal, but what if it wasn’t?”  

“W-wait, so there could be two Twilights?”  

“My head’s startin to hurt.” Applejack’s evidence only seemed to make her more confused. “So does that mean the guy lives somewhere around here, too?”  

“I don’t know,” Pinkie shook her head, brow furrowed in thought, “but I think  I’ve seen him somewhere...” Pinkie blinked. “Yeah, I did! I was one of  the people who donated some cupcakes to the Responder Appreciation  Party. I saw him there!”  

Applejack raised a brow. “Which uniform was he wearing?”  

“Police, I think.”  

Dash’s headache was flaring up again, too.  “Wait, you’re saying he could be from this world, too?” Pinkie nodded  her head, much to Rainbows frustration. “Then what, they’re some kind of  secret wizards or something?”  

“I don’t know about all that, but I know one of them is a cop!” Pinkie grinned.  

“Let’s just slow down a sec’, girls.” Applejack leaned back, setting her hat to the side and massaging the building stress from her forehead. She offered Fluttershy the phone, who took it reverently, staring through it in wonder, horror, and sorrow.  

“Okay, now lemme get this straight. Y’all are sayin’ that there could be two Twilight’s runnin’ around?”  

“I’m still pretty sure that this Twilight is ours.”  

“But Dashie, I already saw that Twilight! That can’t be ours.”  

“But who else but Twilight could possibly bring back the dead—?”  

“Girls, please,” Applejack groaned. “Rainbow, you got any proof that’s our Twilight?”  

What the heck?  

“Applejack, what—?”  

“Please, jus’ answer the question, Dash.”  

“Well, no... But she—.”  

“Pinkie.” Applejack was really starting to piss Rainbow off. “Do you got any proof that this Twilight’s different?”  

“Nope,” Pinkie chirped with a pop, “but if you give me a couple of days, I can try and get her address.”  

“’Days’? So, we don’t have any—.”  

“Hold up, AJ, what about me, huh? I can find proof that this Twilight’s ours, too!”  

Applejack raised a brow. “And how’s that?”  

Rainbow grit her teeth at the challenge, wracking her brain for—ah, there’s something.  “We stashed a care-package for when Twilight comes through the  portal. It’s got stuff that  Twilight would need for winter, like a jacket and gloves and earmuffs  and a scarf. Me and Twi-uh, Twilight,” she corrected herself, “stashed it in some bushes by the portal. I’d be willing to bet they’re gone, now.”  

“What if she brought her own from her world?”  

“Why would she?”  

“What if—?” Applejack shook her head. “Well whatever, that’d be somethin’, at least. I’m not stoppin’ you, Dash. If I could get somethin’  one way or the other then...” Applejack froze, brow furrowed. “...Wait,  so there could be copies of people from there over here. Does that mean  that Sunset could be a copy, too?”  

What?  

Applejack did not just imply that...  

Fluttershy’s attention refocused at the mention of Sunset’s name. “W-what?”  

“Well, if we’re considerin’ it... that makes sense, right? So, what if the one that was with them—?”  

“Applejack,  the cards and tributes and pictures.” Rainbow kept her voice carefully  low. It was getting pretty hard to do. “All those fire lilies—most of  them wilted. Everything, AJ. If that stuff got out of her g-grave, then why not her body?”  

“W-well,  I mean,” Applejack shook her head again, coughing into her fist, “I  don’t even know if those are actually, uh...” Applejack fidgeted. “Well,  you’ve been running yourself ragged on this chase of yours. You're always out in the cold a lot, and you felt like you were burnin’ up somethin’ fierce. Are you sure you’re not just, I don’t know... overworkin’ yourself or—?”  

Oh hell no.  

“First off,” Dash cut in with a gesture, “you don’t get to say that. Second, what the heck kind of fever dream could even get me to zombies and evil princesses?”  

“I don’t know,” Applejack snapped back smartly, “what in the hay kind of song makes you sprout wings and fly?”  

"So that’s something you’ll take, but not—?!”  

“Waitwaitwait, hold on, girls,” Pinkie interjected, “Let’s just...” Pinkie rolled her hands, shoulders and body as though trying to summon the words in some dark ritual. “Okay, so let’s assume that Dashie’s story is all true—,”  

“It is.”  

“—what  do we do about it? I’d guess that the only people who can stop evil  necromancers are on the other side of the mirror, right?”  

“Uh Pinks, we’re sitting right here.”  

“B-but, um, Pinkie’s right.” Fluttershy  adjusted her legs closer to her body. She still gazed through Rainbow,  Applejack, or Pinkie, depending on who was talking at the time. “W-we  don’t know if we can still do, uh... whatever we do. I... think...?”  

“Especially if our person from the portal is the necromancer—.”  

“Girls, no,” Rainbow crossed her arms, “I’m not dropping this—not here. What the heck do you want me to say, AJ?” Dash had to work hard to keep her voice down. “Are you calling me a liar?”  

“No, I—!” Looks like Applejack was having the same problem. With a cough, she tried again, voice lower. “No, I aint callin’ you a liar, but...” Applejack chewed her lip. “...Darn it Dash, I’m just askin’ you to help me convince myself. I know you wouldn’t joke about somethin’ like this, but how the hay am I supposed to just believe that?”  

"The stuff from the grave, Applejack. Like I said.”  

“Dash, I get what you’re sayin’,  but you also done went and left it all behind! It might not even be  there when you come back for it, either. You say it’s there but I can’t see it.”  

Rainbow Dash wanted nothing more than to scream at her. But what could she say? There had to be something that—  

Wait.  

“I do have something.”  With shaky fingers, trembling with frustration, anger, and lingering  cold, Rainbow Dash slipped her hand into her pocket. Her fingers dug,  searching the space between her leg and her wallet—'Found it.’ Carefully, reverently, she pulled the small piece of plastic into her palm and presented it to the group.  

Fluttershy gasped. Pinkie Pie’s mouth gaped.  

“No way...”  

“Uh,”  Applejack’s mouth screwed up in thought, eyes squinting at the pick.  “I’m sorry Dash, but I don’t get it. What’s—,” she blinked, eyes wide.  “W-wait, is that—?”  

“Rainbow’s lucky pick...” Fluttershy reached out to touch it, only to hesitate when Rainbow flinched. With a deep breath and a nod, Rainbow allowed Fluttershy to examine it.  

“I was there when Rainbow gave this to Sunset. At the funeral.” Tears welled up in Fluttershy’s eyes as she cradled it in her palms and stared. “I watched her place it in the coffin. I saw it.”  

“R-right.” Applejack ran a hand through her hair, taking a deep breath. “And, uh, you definitely didn’t have another—?”  

“No,” all three of them responded.  

“R-right.  I just...” Applejack leaned back until she was practically laying on  the floor, sighing heavily. “...I just, I don’t—I need to, uh... process  this.”  

“So, you finally believe me?”  

“You’re  not a liar, Dash,” Applejack affirmed. “A joker sometimes, sure, but  not a liar, I never questioned that. I just... Okay.” Applejack sat up.  “Okay. So, there’s a strong possibility that that Sunset is ours—.”  

“I already told you that—.”  

“Dash just let me keep our options open—.”  

“There’s no point, though!” Dash knew that Applejack has always been thick, but this was starting to get stupid. “I’m telling you that there’s no denying that that was Sunset’s body—it was wearing Rarity’s dress, it was caked in that stupid makeup, it was her.”  

“Fine,” Applejack gritted out, leaning forward, elbow on her knee. “But then there’s still Twilight and that ‘Shining Armor’ guy.”  

“Twilight’s ours, too!”  

“But the only ‘proof’ you have of that is waiting for us to find it—!”  

“Wait! Girls, wait!” Pinkie waved her hands in the air to get their attention. “If this Twilight is our Twilight, then why is Princess Twilight resurrecting her friend with a cop?”  

Rainbow Dash opened her mouth to shoot down the idea, but stopped. ‘Could that be it?’ Rainbow’s head was throbbing and eyes wanted nothing  more than to just shut and not open until spring, but still she  afforded some energy to the thought. What if Twilight brought Sunset  back to help the police find out who killed her? Would Rainbow do that  to her friend if she had that kind of magic?  

She would, Rainbow decided.  

Wait.  

“Pinks, why would she wait until two weeks after the funeral?”  

“I  don’t know, I’m just tossing horseshoes at the dartboard right now. But  it could have been some ritual she had to prepare ahead of time? Or  consult her shamans and clerics and gather the right kind of gems? Or  maybe she had to make friends with an officer that would actually  believe her so they could work things out in secret! Can zombies even be witnesses in investigations—?”  

“Alright, Pinkie, you can stop now.”  

“Okay.”  

“Thanks. But Pinkie, I think that you could be onto something.”  

“Wait, really?”  

“You’re jokin’, right, Dash?”  

“No, I’m serious. What if she brought Sunset back long enough to help with the investigation?”  

“Well why wouldn’t she tell us she was doin’ that, huh?”  

“I’m sure she has her reasons...” Dash’s mind was once again whirling. This  could be it. Maybe Twilight was getting a lead that Rainbow couldn’t  find. Yeah. Yeah! And what if she needed to keep some kind of cover or  something in order to get in good with the police? Okay, that sounded weird, but it’s not impossible!  

Or if she’s not, maybe Dash could get a lead out of Sunset herself—  

Sunset wanted to talk to her.  

Sunset wanted to talk to her.  

Rainbow Dash never felt like more of an ass in her life.  

“I need to find Sunset, too.”  

“What’re  you on about?” At Rainbow’s sharp glare, Applejack raised her hands  defensively. “I mean, of course we do, but what are you thinking?”  

“Think about it. If Twilight had to pretend to not be our friend, she’s probably got a mission or something  that demanded it. I mean, that Shining Armor guy knew that me and  Sunset were close, but not that I knew Twilight...” Crap. Dash really  hoped that she didn’t blow Twilight’s cover or something. “...But still, Sunset wanted to talk to me. To me.”  

“Why didn’t you?”  

Yeah. ‘Why,’ dumbass friggin Rainbow...  

“I couldn’t. Everything was just...” Rainbow rubbed her sore eyes, doing nothing to keep her eyes from getting sorer. “I don’t know. It was just... too much.”  

“It’s okay, Rainbow.” Fluttershy slid herself across the floor to sit next to Dash, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Nobody can blame you for that. Everything was so sudden.”  

“But  I should’ve—,” a quick squeeze to her shoulder made her abandon that  train of thought. “...Right. W-well, anyway,” Rainbow cleared her  throat, “I still want to talk to her. She could tell us who killed her—that would be big. Even if we couldn’t do anything  to them,” yet, she mentally added, “we’d still be able to keep eyes on  them in case they... What’s that look for, Applejack?”  

Something told Rainbow that she already knew.  

“Well, it’s just... ah nevermind. You wouldn’t want to hear it.”  

“Right, but you want to say it, so say it.” Oh yeah, Dash knew.  

“I don’t... Dash, I don’t think that Twilight would do that. She already knows darn well what happened to Sunset.”  

“Yeah, Apple,” Dash growled, “Twilight knows that somebody killed Sunset.”  

“Dash,  please. The police investigation is ongoing, but everybody here knows  what happened. You’ll see, in less than a week, the investigation’s gonna be over and they’ll declare her death a—.”  

“Yeah, you can say that all you want because you apparently don't give a damn.” Rainbow spat, glowering at Applejack.  

“And what in the hell, is that supposed to mean.”  

“Um g-girls? Hellooooo?”  Pinkie desperately waved her hands in the air, trying to break the  glaring contest between the two most stubborn people in their current  group. “Shouldn’t we be talking about—?”  

“You know what I mean. You’re not fooling anyone with this ‘Ah gotta werk the farm!’ crap.” Applejack’s eyebrow twitched and frown deepened. “You just ate up the first thing you were told, and now you’re just distracting yourself so that you don’t have to think about it. You just, just... threw Sunset away like yesterday’s garbage.”  

“Alright,  Dash, you need to shut your mouth.” Applejack set her hat far back on  her head, keeping the brim tilted up so that she could glare at Rainbow  with no obstructions. “You know damn well that I loved Sunset like  family, but I’ve got everybody else to think about, too. Yeah, I work the farm to keep my mind in focus, but at least I’m doin’ somethin’ productive. Not like you,” she verbally jabbed with a light twist of her head and a raised brow. “Ohoh no—you’re content to keep holdin’ onto what you think happened with Sunset. All this runnin’ around and ‘huntin’ leads’ stuff you say you’re doin’ is actually just you runnin’ away from the truth, just like—.”  

“So what, that’s it? I’m wrong because I can actually see what’s going on here? That the way that everything lines up—the sirens, Anon-A-Miss, getting Sunset alone—is just too convenient, and you just ‘not thinking about it’ is going to make everything better? What if whoever did this is coming for one of us—?”  

“That ain’t happening because nobody killed Sunset!”  

“What happened to that ‘keeping your options open’ stuff, huh—?”  

"Darn it, Dash, just listen to yourself! You know damn well that the only person who could’ve thrown Sunset off that roof was herself."  

"Don't you dare talk about her like that, Applejack.” Rainbow spat, jumping to her feet. “Sunset would never have k-ki—never would have, have done that. She’s so much stronger than that. She’s never had any reason to—.”  

“Yes, she did,” Fluttershy urgently whispered, freezing Rainbow’s throat shut. Her voice as watery and thick with emotion as the tears in her eyes, but Rainbow couldn’t hear or see that through the shock that Fluttershy—Fluttershy, of all people—would stand against her on this matter. “She, she k-killed herself because of us—.” Fluttershy bit her tongue and flinched as Rainbow whirled to face her.  

“Fluttershy, shut up.”  

Rainbow’s  hushed growl may has well have been shouted in the suddenly small room,  echoing and ringing painfully in her ears, shaking her to her core.  Tears unbidden poured freely past tightly shut eyelids down Fluttershy’s  cheeks. She did her best to muffle her sobs behind clenched teeth and  sealed lips, escaping as only shuddering breaths from her nose. They  were no less noticeable than if she were screaming in the agony that  Rainbow knew that her careless betrayal had caused.  

“O-okay,” she whispered, and suddenly Rainbow was drowning in ice again. “I’m... I’m sorry...”  

Another rash, impulsive, stupid action to add to her growing pile of regrets.  

“Wait, wait,” Rainbow knelt down again, wrapping her arms around Fluttershy’s shoulders after only a moment of hesitation. “No no, Fluttershy, don’t apologize. I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have snapped on you like that, I...” Could Rainbow even salvage this meeting? “I’m sorry, Fluttershy. Please don’t cry...”  

“It’s just,” Fluttershy  sobbed, over her shoulder, arms weakly wrapping around Rainbow’s sides,  “it’s just that-that there’s so much going on, and, and Sunset is d-dead because of us and I... and everybody’s fighting but I’m still confused but she...” Fluttershy buried her face into Rainbow’s shoulder. “I just—now she’s back? B-but why? Why did she have to come back now?”  

Rainbow’s heart twitched painfully. ‘What did she mean by that?’  

“I just... I just...!” Fluttershy  was wailing now. She was bawling her eyes out, and it was all Rainbow’s  fault. “...I—I only just got used to her b-being gone and she’s back? I still—,” she sobbed and sniffed wetly, deeply, “—I still t-text her sometimes, but I f-f-finally, finally got used to kn-knowing that she wouldn’t text back, but now she... she... Sunset... Sunset...!”  

Fluttershy was screaming. It wouldn’t have been any more than a distant shout for others, but everybody in that room knew that Fluttershy  was screaming as hard as her body would allow. As she was screaming her  heart out in grief and misery, the girls had quietly reformed the  huddle with Fluttershy  at its center. Yet, even as Rainbow Dash contributed her arms, body,  and warmth, she still couldn’t help but feel useless. Like all that she  could do is just sit there, hold still, and watch.  

She could only ever watch people suffer for her mistakes.  

Where the last group-hug made her feel somewhat rejuvenated, this huddle only left her drained. And as they separated this time, Fluttershy took it upon herself to find a corner and quietly lean into it.  

“Rainbow Dash,” Pinkie began, low and unsure, eyes red because who wasn’t crying in this room, darn it, “you... that wasn’t...”  

“Pinkie,” Applejack softly interrupted, “she knows. I’m in the wrong here for rilin’ her up, too. We don’t need to press her on it.”  

Why did Applejack have to be like that?  

“No, no. Let Pinkie say her thing. I’ve been...” Rainbow coughed. “...yeah. Go ahead, Pinks.”  

“Rainbow  Dash, I’m worried about you,” Pinkie murmured into the uncomfortably  quiet room. “You’ve always been an impulsive hot-head, so I’m not too  worried about that part of you...” Gee, thanks, Pinkie. “...but you’ve  been different ever since Sunset—uh, well... since... yeah.” Pinkie cleared her throat. “Are you okay? I’m really, really, really worried about you. I feel like I’m losing you.”  

“W-what?” Losing her how? “No, no Pinkie, I’m not going anywhere. What’re you—?”  

“N-not  like that! Just, uh,” Pinkie scratched her head, wiped her face, and  reached for parts of her hair which were now several inches lower due to  its newfound adherence to gravity. “You seem so tired all the time,  like something’s  weighing you down. You’re getting distant, somehow. I don’t want you to  stop being my friend, is all. But I also want you to be healthy,  okay?”  

Phew, was that all?  

“Pinkie, I’m fine.” Rainbow  sighed hard, as though to blow away all the crap that the last several  hours subjected her to. “It’s like you said, I’m tired. And today was a  really crappy day.”  

Applejack chuckled mirthlessly. “Yeah, that’s a word for it.”  

“Most polite one I know.”  

“That’s not sayin’ much.”  

That brought a tired grin to Rainbow’s face. It looked like she wasn’t the only one sick of being mad.  

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean, mudlicker?”  

“’Mudlick—’ did you just come up with that one?”  

“Nah, I’m pretty sure that was your idea.”  

“Probably on the thirtieth time I watched you eat dirt.”  

“It’s okay, AJ,” Rainbow sighed wistfully with a sagely nod, “not everybody can be me.”  

“Friggin Dash...” Applejack shook her head and laughed. Maybe she was also faking it.  

Whatever.  Knowing that they both were sick of it and faking it made her feel a  little better. Not by much, but still better. Didn’t change the fact  that she kept on hurting her friends.  

That’s the only thing she’s actually accomplished since Anon-A-Miss.  

Rainbow stood up.  

“I’m gonna go get some air, blow off some steam.”  

“I’ll be in here.”  

Rainbow  Dash stepped out to the hall, letting her face fall as she did. It was  such long day, but it was only seven o’clock. It was going to be a long  ride home, as well. Long and cold. Should she ask Applejack for a ride?  

Nah. Dash already bothered her enough. This was her own problem, anyway.  

“Dashie?” As Rainbow Dash was slipping on her shoes, Pinkie approached the entryway with her own coat in her arms. “Here, wear this. It’s freezing out there.”  

“Oh.  Uh, thanks.” Rainbow Dash took and donned the woolen coat. Shoulders  preemptively hunched against the inevitable breeze, Rainbow opened the  door and stepped outside. Squinting her eyes against the stinging  breeze, Rainbow shut the door and stepped fully onto the porch, leaning  against the railing. For a while, she just stood there, breathing deep the cold air and basking in winter’s bite as both a balm and a punishment.  

She  let the air escape in a harsh sigh, watching as her breath formed  clouds in the dark winter air. “Damn it Dash, you really screwed things up this time...”  

“I wouldn’t say all that.”  

Rainbow  snapped her head to the side and flinched when she saw Pinkie leaning  on the railing beside her. After the initial shock wore off, Rainbow  wiped her face in exasperation.  

“You know,” she began, “I meant to come out here to be alone to my thoughts.”  

“Yeah, I do that sometimes, too. Sometimes you just want to take a break about thinking about one thing, so you focus on another. And sometimes you don’t really want to focus on anything, but then you wind up focusing on everything and that’s not all that comfor—.”  

“Alone, Pinkie.”  

“What do you mean—oh.” Pinkie sighed. “Okay.”  

“Sorry, Pinks. It’s not you, I promise. I just... I don’t know. I need some space.”  

“It’s  okay, that’s fine. Just, uh, quick question, though.” Rainbow raised a  brow in question. “I was just wondering if you wanted to sleep over.  It’s been a while since we had one. A slumber party, that is.”  

“What, today?”  

Pinkie nodded. “It’s just that, uh, things were really tense and I don’t want us to leave like this.  I’d rather everybody have pancakes and whipped cream and fight over the  last quarter-bottle of syrup before we leave, you know? End on a high  note. Smiling.” Pinkie ran a hand over the railing, tapping her  black-painted nails against the wood. “I don’t want things to end like this.”  

“Stop talking like that, Pinkie. it doesn’t suit you.”  

“Oh yeah?” she smirked, brow raised. “Like how black doesn’t suit me?”  

“Hey, I’m allowed to be wrong if it’s about fashion.” A beat passed. “I don’t have any pajamas. Or a toothbrush.”  

“I’ve got spares.”  

“Underwear?”  

“Go commando.”  

“Pinkie.”  

“What? Everybody does it sometime. And if you haven’t, you’re either a liar or wrong.”  

“Darn  it, Pinks...” Rainbow shook her head. Checking her phone, she did some  mental math between the time and her battery-life. “I’ll call my parents  and let them know. They’ll be okay with it.”  

“Really?! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Pinkie was practically vibrating with  excitement, wrapping Rainbow up in an energetic hug and shaking. “I’ll  be sure to let the others know—oh!” Pinkie let go, stepping towards the  door. “Applejack said that, in a few, she wants to drive over to check  if that stash is still there. The one by the school?”  

“Yeah, okay gotcha. I’ll be in in a sec, or I’ll be out here when she comes out.”  

“Okay. Thanks again, Dashie. I love you.”  

Rainbow’s cheeks flared, mouth twitching downward in embarrassment. “Pinkie, I’m not going anywhere.”  

“Just in case!” Pinkie smiled, before slipping back in through the door. Left alone once again, Dash shivered despite the thick,  woolen coat. She didn’t know what the heck was happening, or why it was  happening. She just hoped that whatever happened worked out.  

No, hoping wouldn’t do anything. She was going to make it work.  

But the rest of that could wait until tomorrow. For now, Rainbow just couldn’t wait for the day to be over.
> Stains
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pale door shut with a gentle click. 

Again, she was alone. 

For a moment, she simply stood there, hand still on the doorknob, forehead against the door. She breathed in, she breathed out, and she listened.

The house was quiet. Far quieter than it should have been. Was Pinkie still there?

“...Bye Pinkie!” Sweetie Belle called from below. “I love you, too!” The front door shut with a thud. 

Pinkie really was gone then. 

Pinkie normally tumbled down the stairs in her own comically chaotic way. Yet today, she was so quiet that Rarity thought that she was still outside her door. 

‘That was my fault, wasn’t it?’ Rarity sighed. That was precisely the case, Rarity knew. Pinkie already gathered that Rarity wouldn’t be able to bring herself to come. ‘Magic emergency,’ ha. The magic has been gone ever since Sunset left. The magic, the energy—the everything has gone the way of Sunset Shimmer. The rest of Rarity’s friendships were soon to follow, no doubt.

Rarity dragged her feet across the carpet to her bed, but hesitated.

No. No, something was bothering Sweetie Belle. If she let herself fall into that bed, she knew she wouldn’t be getting up again for some time. But still...

A shower—no, a bath. Yes, that was what she needed.

Goal in mind and with a spurt of spirit, Rarity set about collecting a fresh set of clothes from her drawer. Nothing too elaborate would be necessary; it would all be covered by her bathrobe, anyway. Did she have another bathrobe—? Ah, she did. 

Good.

Fresh change of clothes tucked neatly into a fresh robe, Rarity carried the bundle to the door. But with one hand on the doorknob, she hesitated.

What if Sweetie was outside? Rarity’s heart clenched. She hadn’t even thought of what to say. Should she broach the issue right there in the hall? No, that would seem too cold, no doubt. Sweetie Belle was Rarity’s sister; she shouldn’t feel like she’s being reprimanded for something she had no control over. But she couldn’t just ignore the issue. Last time she ignored something like this, Sunset—

No. Not this time. Not Sweetie. 

With little thought other than to deal with it as it comes, Rarity opened the door. 

Nobody was on the other side.

Rarity sighed in relief—fatigue, she sighed in fatigue. Goodness, when did she get so tired? She’d practically been resting for days now! Such sloth was disgraceful. She was glad that Sweetie wasn’t there to see her like that. 

Yes, that was it. She wouldn’t want to set a bad example for her impressionable little sister, right?

Blue eyes—

—closed, expression blank—

—stared at the ceiling as Rarity rested her head against the doorframe.

Role modeling, ha. It was far too late for that.

“Rarity?” Rarity blinked. Was Sweetie there? She quickly glanced down the hall towards the stairs to find them empty. “Rarity, is that you?” The small voice distantly called. Sweetie was still downstairs, but Rarity could hear her getting closer.

“Y-yes, dear, but don’t come up here please!” Rarity’s heart clenched painfully as she heard Sweetie’s faint but rapid footsteps falter. “I’m...” 

What was she? Gross? Ugly? Unseemly? 

“...indecent.” 

How polite.

“Oh...” Sweetie sounded so disappointed and Rarity hated it. Just through the single sound of her voice, Rarity already knew the expression on Sweetie’s face— 

—brows furrowed, eyes to the floor. "...None taken.” Surely, she’ll come around soon enough—

“—will you be eating lunch?” 

“What?” Rarity blinked. “O-oh, yes!” Rarity called down the hall. “Yes, I will. Right after my bath.”

“Oh! Okay!” Excited. Happy. Just as Sweetie should be. Just as she should have been. “I’ll see you then!” 

“Yes, dear! It won’t take long.” 

Sweetie Belle’s steps padded their way back down the stairs.

Was Sweetie Belle happy? Rarity pondered this as she shuffled her way to the bathroom. Sweetie was always her little gem, if a bit troublesome at times. Her little sister who was so eager to please, who always wore her heart on her sleeve. 

Was that still the case? In Rarity’s self-imposed isolation—no, her failure to socialize with even her own family—had such innocent honesty been buried under pragmatic repression? What if Sweetie’s emotional state was all her fault?

Rarity didn’t do enough. Just like last time.

Rarity shook her head clear as she shut the bathroom door behind her. Why was she thinking like everything was over? No, Rarity was just being overly dramatic again, surely. She just needed to freshen up a bit so that she could cheer Sweetie up.

Rarity ran the water in the tub and, after a moment’s thought, activated the showerhead. She hadn’t quite earned the luxury of a bath yet. Besides, a shower would be much faster.

Rarity would normally just bask in the soothingly hot water for some indeterminable amount of time after washing, so she was rather proud of the scant twenty minutes that it took to wash herself. After only ten minutes of drying and ensuring her hair was cared for, Rarity exited the bathroom with purpose.

“Oh Sweetie!” Rarity sang, sauntering down the stairs, wrapped in clean clothes and freshly cleansed, “I’m all done!”

“Rarity!” Rarity had barely made it to the bottom step when the very topic of her worries happily barreled into her chest, wrapping small arms around her with surprising force.

Surely she hadn’t been tucked away that long, right?

“Good morning, Sweetie!” Rarity smiled, hugging her sister back. “Have you already eaten?”

Sweetie Belle shook her head. “I was waiting for you!”

“Oh, how sweet of you.” With a pat on the shoulder, Rarity relieved herself from the hug, already walking towards the kitchen. “I don’t know about you, dear, but I am in the mood for an omelet.”

“Yes, that sounds great! Can I help?”

Rarity almost shook her head, but caught herself. 

Sweetie only wanted to help. She only wanted to be useful. Surely that would help cheer her up, right? The girl was an absolute disaster when it came to any form of cooking, but it would be cruel refuse her at that point...

“Actually,” Rarity recovered from her barely noticeable pause, “that sounds like a splendid idea.” Ah yes, all of Rarity’s apprehension melted beneath the beaming grin of Sweetie’s face. “Why don’t I get the eggs and cheese,” Rarity issued as she opened the fridge, “while you get the other things that you want in our omelet ready?”

“Okay!”

“And pepper and mushrooms,” Rarity smirked, retrieving a whisk and a bowl from the cabinets.

Sweetie Belle could only sigh. “Fine...”

The time passed easily between them, the only sounds being Sweetie’s gentle humming and the clatter of utensils being put to use. The eggs for a hearty brunch had been cracked and just needed a proper whisking. Meanwhile, Sweetie Belle had all of her favorite ingredients lined up by the cutting board. Onion and garlic, a thick slab of ham because of course she would, spinach and tomatoes. She even got the peppers and mushrooms.

Onion in hand, Sweetie Belle pulled a knife from the block—

“Err, Sweetie,” Rarity began, setting down the whisk into the bowl, “I’ll take care of the knife work. Why don’t you start mixing up the eggs, hm?”

Sweetie’s brow furrowed for an instant. It was so brief that Rarity almost missed it. Was it in annoyance? Frustration?

Rarity discreetly glanced at the seemingly undisturbed knife block. 

No, Rarity was overthinking things. Sweetie was just offended. She’s always been somewhat insecure about her inability to handle food. Yes, that was it. Rarity was just being cautious. A little more cautious than she needs to be, but for a good cause.

The sisters worked in silence. Rarity chopped up ingredients as Sweetie mixed. 

A drop of egg splashed onto Sweetie’s sleeve—

—Shouldn’t be too much trouble. It’s only a simple addition. It was just another stitching of fabric, just don’t think about—.

“Sweetie,” Rarity gulped, “you should take care of your clothes, you know. Why, you’ve gotten our brunch all over your sleeves!”

“Yes, Rarity,” Sweetie sighed, grumbling under her breath. Sweetie Belle curtly tugged at the sleeves of her sweater until they settled just a short distance from her wrists. Clean, as she should be.

Rarity nodded, not quite satisfied, but pleased enough for now. 

The silence returned, but not for long. Eventually, Sweetie’s humming resumed, interrupted only by the occasional splash of egg or playful bump and laughter. Soon enough, Rarity was left watching over the slowly solidifying omelet, adding in the ingredients while her sister was cleaning up what chaos didn’t make it into the pan.

“So,” Rarity began, “I want to apologize for how...” 

Selfish? Yes, but no. Perhaps neglectful? 

“...Absent I have been lately.” That would do.

“It’s alright,” Sweetie chirped as she bathed the utensils with soapy water. “I’m just glad you’re here!”

“Oh, how precious.” Rarity couldn’t stop the smile even if she wanted to. “Well, I’m glad to be here. How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Sweetie scowled for a moment; Rarity was sure of it. Should she not have asked twice?

The bowl was dropped onto the drying rack with a bit more force than necessary. Sweetie froze for a moment, before resuming her chore at a much more sedated pace.

“Yeah,” Sweetie nodded, voice small. “I’ve just been tired is all.”

“I see.” Rarity didn’t see. Not at all. Tired of what? Sweetie Belle didn’t seem tired. 

Then again, her eyes were looking somewhat heavy and dark. And upon closer inspection, Sweetie was standing with something of a slouch. Maybe she really was tired, how could she have not noticed? Sunset looked rather tired too, didn’t she? 

Not Sweetie.

“So...” Subject change, Rarity needed something to talk about. “...How are the others doing? Apple Bloom and Scootaloo?”

“Fine, I guess.” Curt. Uncharacteristically noncommittal. 

“’You guess’? You haven’t been doing anything dangerous on your little adventures, have you?”

“No.”

Rarity waited for elaboration. She received only silence.

“That’s...” Rarity had a bad feeling. Perhaps they had a fight? “...that’s good to hear.” Rarity cleared her throat. “Well, what kind of adventures did you and your friends get up to while I was indisposed?”

“I—we didn’t do anything. Apple Bloom is busy working with Apple Jack.”

“And what of Scootaloo?”

“I don’t know.”

“I...” None of that was right. “Did you have a fight...?”

“N-no.” Sweetie Belle fidgeted in that way that Rarity knew so well.

They did have a fight. That wasn’t right at all. They endured everything together. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were as close as sisters to Sweetie Belle. Why would they suddenly distance themselves like this?

Could it just be something simple as a childish fight? She fought and reconciled with her friends all of the time when she was young, but this felt so different, and Rarity couldn’t figure out why—wait.

Sweetie Belle lied. 

That was what was wrong: Sweetie Belle lied. Why would she lie about such a thing now? Sweetie never lied about her many grievances with her friends in the past. Those three were supposed to be inseparable. 

Then again, so were the Rainbooms.

It couldn’t be...

“Sweetie, is... all this...” Rarity gestured vaguely at Sweetie Belle’s averted gaze, her hunched shoulders, “about Sunset?” 

Sweetie Belle's eyes went wide as she froze. That was the only answer Rarity needed.

“Sweetie, I...” What could she say? Was this touching? Sunset was Rarity’s friend, not Sweetie’s, despite how much she wished that Sweetie would accept her. No, this wasn’t touching—it was just sad. Sunset would never have wanted Sweetie’s friends to fall apart.

Rarity sighed, flipping the omelet and turning off the heat. 

“Sweetie Belle... this is about Sunset.”

“N-no!” Sweetie stepped away from the sink, desperately shaking her head. “It’s not!” Such an extreme reaction...

Rarity moved to comfort her sister, but froze as Sweetie Belle flinched before she could take a single step. Sweetie Belle was scared? Of her?

Why?

“Sweetie Belle, it’s alright.” Rarity was floundering. She wasn’t ready for this. “I-I’m not angry at you, dear. Sweetie, please,” Rarity pleaded, arms open in invitation, “come here?” Sweetie Belle didn’t step any closer, but she also didn’t step away as Rarity coaxed the girl into her embrace.

“Sweetie, please, would you tell me what’s wrong?” No response. Only Sweetie trembling in her arms. What could she say? What should she say? “I’m so terribly sorry about your friends. I don’t know what happened, but I hope that things get better soon. It’s horrible that this had to happen so soon after...” Rarity swallowed, “w-well, in the current circumstances...” Ugh, that sounded too callous. There were too many things she could say. Too many options, and so many could be so wrong. 

“I know you miss Sunset.” Sweetie tensed up in her arms. “It’s okay. I miss her, too; we all do. I wish...” A deep, steadying breath. It did nothing to calm her nerves. “It’s so cruel of me to appreciate her this much now, of all times. She tried so hard—."

—Anger. Grief. A steady posture betrayed by a shaking voice. “We should have done our best—.”

Rarity shook her head, holding Sweetie even closer. She was just talking for herself now when she should be trying to help Sweetie. Think, Rarity, think. “We never talked about her sudden turn-around on that night of the Formal, but I can tell that she truly cared about everyone. More than that, she truly wanted to help everyone. I’m certain she wouldn’t want to be the reason you, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo—.”

“You don’t...” Sweetie sobbed—sobbed—raising her arms to clutch Rarity in a surprisingly strong grip. Her sob faded to whimpers which grew again into anguished cries, all of which were muffled as she buried her face into Rarity’s robe. “Please stop. You—you don’t know...” 

“Nonsense, Sweetie,” Rarity reassured with as much confidence as she could muster, idly adjusting small imperfections in the younger girl’s hair, wanting nothing more than to cry herself. “I would know better than anyone. I’m—,” Rarity nearly choked on the word, “was one of her best friends, after all. Though she never admitted it, she was even somewhat envious of the relationship you have with your friends.” The words hadn’t left her lips before her heart clenched. 

Should she have said that? She didn’t want to guilt Sweetie into making up with her friends, and it wasn’t fair to Sunset to use her name in such a way. Yet, that was what Sunset would want; Rarity was sure of it. 

Rarity tried not to remind herself of every other time she was certain about Sunset’s wants or needs.

“Please stop, Rarity!” Rarity flinched at the hoarse cry. “I don’t want to talk about S—about...!” Rarity felt so helpless. All she could do was rub Sweetie’s back and pat Sweetie’s hair. “I don’t—I just—Sunset’s gone, and I...”

Was this her sister? Was this shuddering ball of tears, grief, fatigue, loneliness, and misery Sweetie Belle? “Sweetie, I—."

“I’m sorry, Rarity,” Sweetie Belle wheezed. “This-this isn’t real, it can’t be. I-I don’t want this to be real. I-I didn’t think Sunset w-would...!” 

As tears streaked down Rarity’s face, she realized that she understood her sister’s pain, and she hated herself for it. It never occurred to her that Sweetie Belle could be suffering as much as she had throughout the whole ordeal. The whole time, she could only think of herself. ‘Oh, my friend is gone,’ or ‘oh, it’s all my fault!’ or ‘I’ll miss Sunset so much!’ 

Did Rarity ever stop to think of anyone but herself? Did she think of Sweetie Belle, who Rarity knew Sunset had tried to bond with? Did she ever think of her other friends for that matter, who were just as close—no, even closer to Sunset than she was? Did Rarity ever stop to think about Sunset?

Obviously not. The last draft in her portfolio was proof enough of that. 

Rarity wept as she led her sister to the living room couch, realizing that nothing she could say could help her. She’d already done enough damage, after all. She never stopped to realize that, by locking herself in isolation for days on end, she’d inadvertently isolated her very own sister as well. Both sisters left to their own thoughts, guilt, and regrets for days on end with nobody to relieve them. The sisters truly were alike, both suffering in the same way, and it was all Rarity’s fault.

“I’m s-sorry,” Sweetie sobbed as she curled up against her sister on the couch. “I’m s-so so sorry.”

“Me too, Sweetie.” Rarity adjusted herself so that Sweetie could rest in a more comfortable position. She knew that they would be there for some time. “I wish I’d realized you were hurting so much sooner. Sweetie, I’m so sorry.”

“N-no! It’s m—it’s not your fault!”

Don’t disagree, Rarity. That’s not what she needs.

“Let’s not blame anyone, dear. Let’s just...” Just what? Just cry? Just sob and moan about the injustice of the world? Lament that nothing—not Rarity, not Sweetie, not CHS or Canterlot or the world or both worlds—will ever be the same, because now Sunset’s gone.

“...I miss Sunset,” Rarity found herself whispering into her sister’s hair. It was something she whispered many times, and it never failed to tear her heart apart every time. “I’m so sorry, Sweetie. I miss her so much.”

“I’m sorry, Rarity. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know, Sweetie. I am too.”

For what seemed like hours, the sisters laid on the couch, crying, apologizing, mourning. Even as Sweetie cried herself to sleep, Rarity continued in her place. She apologized to Sweetie, to Sunset, to Pinkie, to Rainbow and the others, to anyone and everyone that she made suffer.

How did the meeting go, she wondered? Was it—?

—Cold and bright. A soft, peaceful smile that Rarity knew was out of place. Piercing cries and strangled screams of grief. Unreadable stoicism. Disappointed gazes. Accusatory glances. 

Don’t meet their eyes, Rarity. Say nothing and cry. You’ve lost the right—

Rarity bit her lip to stifle the loud sob that nearly tore through her throat. No, it would be nothing like that, surely. Not with Pinkie there and in her prime. Yes, with Pinkie hosting the get together, she’d be doing her best to make the meeting a pleasant one—

—Sunset was so happy, sitting there in her pajamas and smiling into the noisy room over her journal. Sunset was almost too happy. Perhaps Applejack wasn’t exaggerating about Sunset’s past. 

Well, the past didn’t matter much anymore. Seeing that grin filled with such infectious joy, Rarity decided that Sunset wouldn’t spend the holidays alone again—

Sweetie stirred as Rarity wailed. As the sun dipped below the horizon and daylight faded, the sisters mourned.







It was strange how something could be so sad, but so warm.

“Umm... phone number?”

Inhale. “I d-don't have a ph-phoone.” Exhale. 

“Uh... Oh! What about e-mail?”

E-mail, e-mail... Ah, electronic mail sent over the ‘internet’! And she had one!

Inhale! “Y-yesh!” Sunny combed through her mind, trying to will the knowledge of her e-mail to the forefront of her mind. To send such a letter, she’d need to go to the mailing site, type in her name—no, her address—and password...

Sunny’s face fell. She’d need to type, and she was sorely lacking in both the equipment and dexterity.

In. “I donn’t haave a c-c-com-comp-pu-comp-pu...” A furrowed brow. “...laaptop. Orr innternet.” Exhale. 

“Oh...” the thick arms of glasses bent under nervous fingers. “...uh, mailing address? I mean I never had a pen-pal before, and I’m pretty sure that those are supposed to be further away, but...”

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale...

Sunny didn’t know what to say. No letter that Twilight could write would find her unless it was sent by magic—.

Her journal. 

Her journal!

And Twilight had its copy!

Wait. Twilight had its copy, right?

In. “W-wwhat about th-the journal?” Out.

“What?” Twilight adjusted her glasses. “I… w-what about a, um, a journal?”

What about a journal? It’s their journal, that’s what!

In. “Th-the jourrrnal,” Sunny insisted. “O-our…”

Twilight’s clueless face looked anxiously back at her.

“…M-mmy…”

Why didn’t Twilight have her journal?

Did she not want it?

Was it too much of a burden?

“Oh, uh, do you mean…” Twilight played with a strap on her backpack. “…like a, a shared journal or something?”

Oh! Maybe Twilight just forgot!

In! “Y-yesh!” Out!

“Oh! Well, I think that’d be fun!” 

What? 

“I’ve never done that before, sharing a journal. But that could be a good way for us to keep up with each other! I’ve got plenty of notebooks, too,” Twilight clapped in excitement. 

Sunny was just confused.

“Oh but, uh, we’ll have to meet again to trade! Uhm,” Twilight bounced her head in thought, “oh! What about this Saturday at the library? I should be available after three.”

What was Twilight talking about? Is she… is she making another journal? But they already had one, right? Maybe it was full…?

Wait. 

Where was her journal?

“…alright with you?” Sunny blinked. Twilight was beaming at her expectantly, excitedly. Did she just ask her something? 

Sunny smiled and nodded.

“Great! I—oh gosh, I need to go write some things down. I’ll see you later, Sunny!” Reaching between the seats, Twilight’s warm hand took in Sunny’s and squeezed. “I’ll see you next week, I promise. And I’ll see you later, too, Shiny!”

“Sure thing Twily.” Shining smiled. With her things gathered and a single box of donuts in hand, Twilight exited the car, shutting the door behind her. Shining lingered, watching as Twilight walked up the path, unlocked the door, waved back to them one last time, then disappeared into the house.

Again, Sunny and Shining were alone.

Shining quietly backed the car out of the driveway, turning back onto the road.

Silence. 

“So...” Shining began. “What was that about a journal?”

In. “Mmy jourrnal...”

“Yeah, that,” Shining nodded. “Is it special?”

“It’sh...” Yes, it was special. It was hers and Twilight’s. “Yessh. It’ss special.”

“What’s so special about it?”

In. “It’s ourrs. I w-wriiite in it for Tw-Twilight.” Out.

Shining opened his mouth as though to speak, but closed it again.

A beat.

“How long did you have it?”

How long did she have it? Sunset stared blankly out the window in thought. She couldn’t really remember how long she had it. A few months? Perhaps longer?

In. “L-long.” That sounded both right and wrong, somehow.

“Where is it now? I’m pretty sure we’ve got time to get it.”

“I-it’sh...” Come to think of it, where was her journal? She normally had it in her... backpack? Or was it her locker? No, the last time she had it she was touching it, holding it, hugging it to her chest—

Sunset felt a chill run through her spine.

“I donn’t know.” Out. 

In.

Out.

In.

Silence. Scenery passed.

In. “Wwhere are w-we goinng?” Out.

Shining Armor opened his mouth, but closed it. His brow was furrowed, and his mouth was drawn into a tight line. Shining shook his head as he sighed through his nose. 

“That’s the question isn’t it...” he muttered. With practiced ease and grace, Shining took a lazy left turn.

In. “Mhm,” Sunny nodded. Out. That earned her a scoff, which was better than a glare, so that was nice.

A moment passed. Shining didn’t want to answer, she supposed.

“...Since when were you, uh…” Shining cleared his throat. He cleared it again. "Well, uh, how long have you been...” He gestured vaguely to Sunset’s whole self. That brought a smile to Sunset’s face.

In. “D-differrrent?” Out.

“Uh... yeah. ‘Different.’ Yeah, we’ll go with that.”

Inhale, but then Sunset paused. “It’sh y-yourr turn.” Exhale.

“What?”

In. “I s-s-saaid somethingg firsht last t-time. It’sh your turrn.” Out.

“C’mon, really? I’m trying to help you out here.”

Was he, though? He didn’t seem malicious, but he was still too hard to read.

In. “Then h-help mme out.” Out. Ooh, that got his teeth grinding. That clench in his jaw and grip on the steering wheel told Sunny that she was well under his skin. Maybe he was done playing along then. What a shame.

The car ride continued in silence. Sunny felt physics apply her to the door as her driver turned left.

“...Sunset Shimmer was in a band.” Sunset blinked. “Not a big-label thing, but popular enough at her school.”

A band? Like a musical band—yes, yes! She was in a band! She played with those girls, didn’t she—yes, she did!  

Inhale! “I p-plaayed guitarr!” Shining Armor twitched, causing her to lurch a bit as the car quickly realigned itself with the road. “And saang! W-was good, too!”

“Y-yeah, you did. You knew that?”

In. “I j-jusht rememmbered. You reminded me! I p-p-played guitarr, and s-s-sang, and wrrrote songsh—!” 

—many songs written, yet so few can be played. 
Each piece is a moment had, but never finished. 
But Music goes on, even if the song has to end—

“Sunny?” Sunset blinked, her body pressed against the door as Shining took another turn. “You alright? You spaced out there.”

Sunny used the rest of her air to clear her throat in embarrassment, coming out as a stuttered wheeze. Inhale. “S-sorry. Got too ex-cited. B-but! I remembered! I c-can't rememberr the s-s-shongs themselves, but I rememberr how they feeel.” There was an audible rush of air as Sunny took in an excited breath through her broad smile. “Th-thaanksh Sh-Shining Armorrr!”

Shining scoffed, his eyes carefully on the road and pointedly away from Sunny.

Internally, she smirked.

“Right, sure,” Shining grunted. “Now about mine?” Ah, right. Fair is fair.

In. “J-jusht today. Thish mmorning...” Sunny paused. That wasn’t right. Inhale. “...B-before thish morn’, ackt-tually. But only u-uup th-thish mornn’ng.” Exhale.

Shining blinked. “Wait, just this morning?”

In. “Nnno. Before.” Out.

“Then what did you mean by ‘this morning’?”

In. “I g-got up. Got oout.” Out.

“Where were you before?”

In—

Cold, so cold, so dark, so alone, need to get out, need to get out—!

“—B-box. Small and dark and c-c-cold.” Out.

“Cold how? Like the air or something you were touching?”

In. “Jusht cold. A b-b-bed, but c-cold.”

“You mean like...” Shining cleared his throat. “I mean, if you described it—.”

“W-want to shtop tahlking ab-b-bout it noww. Pleashe.” Out. 

Silence reigned in the car. Rather than saying something else, Shining said nothing. That left the cold car in an eerie state of silence, broken by the occasional rev of the engine or bump in the road.

Sunny didn’t like that. No, she didn’t like that at all. The library was a nice quiet. It was big and warm and just as quiet as it should have been. The library was just quiet enough to lose herself into a good book. But in the car, despite Shining sitting right next to her, Sunny felt so alone. 

Shining turned left.

Hm.

In. “W-where are wwe going?” Out.

"We’re...” Shining scratched his chin. “...well where would you want to go?”

In. “Shomewherrre that ishn’t a c-cir-circle.” Out.

“A-ah, well...”

A beat.

Inhale—.

“Okay, okay.” Shining Armor exhaled sharply. “Look, there’s no real easy way to decide that. By rights, I should bring you in. If you’re impersonating Sunset Shimmer—hear me out,” Shining held up a placating hand as Sunny inhaled. “If that were the case, then I’d have to bring you in to the station, and we’d hold you for questioning. There’d be medical exams, blood tests—everything. We’d do whatever it takes to prove you wrong.” 

Shining took another left turn.  

“And it’s not like that would stay quiet. No, the force can be as bad as a high-school cheerleader team, and the local news already has eyes and ears wherever they want them. From today, more and more of the story would get out. Eventually, this whole incident’ll start all over again. All the pain, the tears, the confusion, the anger—two weeks of recovery—all for nothing. Hearts get broken, chaos reigns, and we start over.”

A beat.

Inhale. “Wwaht about m-me?” Exhale.

“What about you?” Shining scoffed.

What? What did that mean? 

In. “I j-jusht ashked thaaht?” Out.

“No, I mean—okay, just…” After a moment of deliberation, Shining flicked his turn signal and pulled off to the side of the road. Car parked, Shining gave his arms a lazy stretch before dropping them onto his head. Was Shining stressed? That looked like one of those things people did when they were.

In. “Shinn’ng?” Out.

“I don’t know what’d happen to you.” Shining would sigh. “I mean, obviously you’d get in trouble. I’m pretty sure this could count for identity fraud and theft if you’re not who you say you are. Then you get locked away and everybody hates you and all of that other etcetera.”

Sunny didn’t like that.

In. “B-but I’m not…!” What could she say? He already knew she was Sunset Shimmer, right? Sure, he insisted otherwise, but there was no way that—.

“Right, but who in their right mind would believe that? Several people saw your body, and many more handled your report. Even if you really are Sunset Shimmer—which you’re not, of course—,”

Could Sunny find the dexterity to slap him?

“—but If you were, then you’d still be treated like that until they could prove it. You’d be nobody’s friend. And then, even after, you’d probably not be anybody’s friend. I mean, if you were Sunset Shimmer, then you’d be dead.” Shining shook his head, rubbing the space between his brows. “Dead people don’t come back. I mean, sure, we’d question you about your, uh…” Shining cleared his throat again. “…your death, if you remembered anything about that?” Shining asked, brow raised. 

In. “N—"

—so cold. Hurts so much. So cold. Make it stop, I want it to stop. So much, too much, please don’t go. Come back. I’m scared. It stopped hurting; I’m scared. It’s so quiet and so cold. Please, don’t leave. Please, come back— 

“—Nno.” That didn’t sound right.

“Are you sure—?”

“No.” Sunset didn’t care.

“…Right…” Shining opened his mouth, as though to say more, but apparently reconsidered.

Silence.

Too quiet.

In. “I-I am Sunshet Shimmrr.” Out.

“Right.” Shining nodded. “So you say.”

In, deeply. “I amm.” 

“But if you aren’t—."

“Wwhy havenn’t you b-b-brought mme in?” Out.

Silence.

In. “W-why—?”

“If you are,” Shining began, scratching the side of his face. “If you are, and I brought you in, nobody would be happy. Not even you. Especially not you.”

“Wwhy?” Out. She’d get what she wanted. She’d learn more about herself. Everybody would know that she wanted to know. Wouldn’t that only help?

“Just… Think for a second, okay? Dead girl comes back to life. That’s great, but how did she do that? Is she a miracle or a monster?” Sunset twitched. “I can’t imagine that things would be easy for you. You’d never have another moment to yourself, you know. Lots of people trying to ask or explain how you exist, or why you exist. Constant letters and requests that you donate your body to science. People clamoring to realize their ‘magical potential’, if that even exists.”

Sunny nodded as she took in air. “It doesh—.”

Shining offered a single mirthless chuckle. “Yeah, no shit. But even then,” he continued, “that comes after all of the outrage—the accusations, the outcry of hatred—all directed at you. Even if you say you’re not an imposter, and even if you could prove it, there would be a time where nobody would believe you. They would treat you like a criminal because that’s the most reasonable and convenient explanation—.”

“Shtop pleash.” Out.

That… Sunny didn’t like that. That sounded bad. Bad in a way that one would remember the first time they touched fire. Maybe…

…No.

Shining was wrong. No one person could predict the actions of a community.

Inhale.

“But…” But what? Sunny scoured her frazzled mind for a counterargument. Surely somebody would believe her, right? If she was good and kind and helpful, she would earn somebody’s trust, right? 

Yes. 

Yes! 

If she did her best to prove herself, people would have to see that she was a good, honest person! Then they’d apologize, and she’d forgive them. They’d hug and share hot cocoa and sing songs and have sleepovers and she’d never be alone again.

…Right?

Sunny clutched her blanket tighter as a chill ran through her body.

“…Right,” Shining grunted, rolling his shoulders. “Well, that’s what I’ve been thinking of.” 

Conversation. Just follow the conversation. Don’t think about it.

Inhale. “S-sho wwhy? You don’t belieeve me. Prrrobbly.” Sunny frowned. It took less effort than she expected to not smile. “And you kn-know what you should do,” she continued, undeterred. Inhale. “Sso w-w-why aren’t you?” Exhale.

“I just…” Shining wrung the steeringwheel for just a moment, before pulling back onto the road. “I didn’t swear to just ‘catch the bad guys.’ My oath is to protect and serve. ‘Keep the peace and bring order to chaos,’” he recited dutifully, proudly. “I just need a moment to figure out what the right thing is. Just need to think…”

In. “You thiiink when you dr-drive?” Out.

“You don’t?”

In. “Nnneverr drove a c-c-carr.” Out.

“Why not?”

Why didn’t she? They looked pretty cool, if weird. Sunny thought about cars and solely about cars, but she couldn’t remember much beyond that they’re powered by explosions, let alone how to operate one.

Ah, maybe that was it.

In. “I donn’t know how.” Out.

“Really? Huh.” Shining scratched his chin. “I’d normally expect something like ‘I’m too young,’ or something.

Sunny took a breath through her smirk. “W-wouldn’t shtop me.” Out.

“Have I mentioned I’m a cop?”

In. “W-wwatcha gonn’ do?” Sunny raised a sly brow. “Turnn me in?”

“Why did I even talk to you?” Shining groaned. “Friggin smart alek…” Despite his complaints, he couldn’t quite hide the quirk in his lips.

Sunny smiled.

“C-caushe I’mm…” Sunny blinked. “…Wwait, you ch-cheeeated.” Out.

“Hm?”

In. “You ashked ssshomething. Youu have to sssaay shomething.” Out.

“Listen,” he sighed, “conversation’s not going to work if you run me out of things to say.”

In! “Nno fair!” Out!

“C’mon you didn’t even tell me anything!” Shining shot back, gesticulating wildly, incredulously. He tilted his nose to the air and spoke in a voice equal parts stuffy and high-pitched whine,  “’Oh, look at me, I’m a rebel who can’t drive!’ What am I even supposed to do with that?”

In. “G-givve me shommething!” Out.

“Oh, you’re gonna get a somethin’ at this rate…”

In. “Yy-you wouldnn’t hit a c-c-cute kid. Wwould you mmishter?” Sunny hoped that her smile was suitably funny, she already knew that her eyelashes didn’t flutter how she wanted them to.

“Nooo, of course not—"

Shining quickly stepped on the brakes. The air was pushed out of Sunset’s lungs in a wheeze as she was constricted by the combined efforts of her seatbelt and physics.

“Wow, did you see that squirel?” Shining shrugged nonchalantly. “‘Pesky tree rats’ ‘re what those are.” 

In, raggedly. “Y-yyyou j-j-je-j-jerk!” Out. Why did everybody keep doing that? Did humans have some kind of foot reflex?

He didn’t bother hiding his satisfied smirk, that dirty little…

In. “So ww-where arre we goinng?” Out.

“We’ve literally just talked about this.”

…Eh, Shining was alright enough. So far.

In. “Okhay.” Out. Sunny ran out of things to say. So did Shining, apparently.

A comfortably warm moment passed. A quiet moment. For some reason, this quiet felt better. Sunny lounged in her seat, letting the passing scenery and gentle rocking of the car ease her mind into an idle trance. She could probably fall asleep like that.

Wait, could she sleep? That was a living thing, right?

Hm. 

Shining turned left. Sunny lurched to the side, stopping suddenly with a thud.

“You alright?”

Sunny lazily spun her head towards Shining. In. “Hmwha…?” Out.

“You just ate glass.”

She did? She didn’t remember doing that. Sunny worked her jaw, drily licked the inside of her mouth, expirimentally chewed—there! 

No, wait, that was her tongue. Was the glass on her tongue?

“What’re you—?” Shining’s palm met his forehead, grumbling as Sunset just stared at him, tongue out and mouth askew. But why…

…Oh. That was a figure of speech. Right. 

Sunny quietly pulled her tongue back into her mouth.

A beat. She could explain, but it would be funnier to leave it be.

Sunny got an idea.

Inhale.

“Wwe therre yet—?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Wwhy—?”

“Still thinking, Shunny.”

“S-ssshtill?” How long could it take to think? The ‘right thing’ couldn’t be that hard to figure out, right? “H-h-howw long ‘rre we dr-dr-driiving?” Out.

“It’s been, uh…” Shining’s eyes flicked down, but were back on the road before she even realized. “…A while. Huh. Well.”

In—wait, what was she going to say? There was a question in there, but—

“Hhmm…?” 

Good enough. Out.

“Well, I guess doing something is better than just thinking and doing nothing. But…”

Shining’s face twisted in… distaste? Or was that disgust? No, that’s too extreme; it’s some kind of mild bad.

But if he was so hard to read before, did that mean that this was really bad?

Shining sighed, seemingly ignoring the way Sunset nearly fell into him as he turned the wheel. “Okay, so this is going to sound pretty weird, but hear me out.”

Uh oh.

In—.

“So, if you’re really you,” Shining started, killing Sunny’s words before they left her lips, “you’d be in for a…” Shining pursed his lips, leaning his head side to side in thought, “…a pretty bad time, if you were just dropped into the station. But I’d also be wrong if you weren’t you and I just let you go, obviously. Especially since that’s the most likely case, here.”

Ha. Really? “Shining—.”

“So, the only thing I can think of is to keep an eye on you. I mean, if miss imposter would tell me where she’s been staying…” Shining shot Sunny a pointed look.

What the heck? What did he want her to do about that? 

Sunny pointed in a random direction. “Sh-sh-sshemetary’s that way, b-bud.” Out.

“Right,” Shining huffed, fiddling with some knobs on the console. “Well anyway, we both need to figure out where you’re gonna hide out. So… uh… hm.” Shining coughed into his fist. “I guess I need to head home for a while, if only to make some calls and work some things out. It’s doubtful I can find a place for you within the next few hours, but I can try.” 

That was all well and good, but what was he…

…Oh. Oh.

Inhale. “W-wwee’re goingg t-to yourr h-h-hhouse?” Out. Maybe she misheard him or something—.

“Well,” Shining cleared his throat. “Yes.” 

Or not. 

“If you’re okay with that, that is.” 

Inhale. “Y-yyeh,” Sunny nodded, “p-preeetty wweird.”

“Oh shut up, that’s the best I got right now, okay?” Shining huffed, expression still neutral. “It’s not like I ever planned for something like this, so I can’t just pull a proceedure out of my a—,” Shining coughed, “—my back pocket.” 

That sounded fair enough, but... 

Sunny lay still in thought, watching the sky over the buildings as the sun slowly crept towards the horizon. Something told her that that was a bad idea. Well, maybe not bad, but… questionable? Definitely not good; that much was for sure. 

‘Unless it could be good later…’ 

But wait, how did that work? It definitely wasn’t a good idea, so—?

—Sunset quickly shook her head, tears in her eyes as she gazed up at the shocked expression of the concerned, trusting, and tragically naive man sitting in front of her. 

“I don’t know how they got that picture!” she urgently whispered. “They must have been following me or something. We know you were just showing me your model train set; I bet even they know that you wouldn’t—th-that we didn’t—we’d never… you know.” 

It was a struggle, keeping her thoughts in order while her heart was racing as fast as it was supposed to be. Just stick to the script, Sunset. Eyes on the prize.

“I’m not a little kid.” Sunset carefully kept the smirk off her face. “I know what that picture looks like. Th-they said they’d give me the negatives if I gave them some money, so m-maybe if you gave me—"

Oh.

Oh, that’s how. Right. 

Right! 

That probably could be useful later, especially since he’s gotta be pretty well—.

—Disgusting. Manipulative monster. He only wanted a friend. She made him a ‘job well done.’ She did it and smiled, why did she smile? 

He didn’t know. All those years, and he still didn’t know. She could have told him. She wasn’t good enough.

She hated this. She’s such a hateful failure of a—a whatever she was. 

It’s no wonder Celestia hated her. She deserved everything—.

“—Sunset? Hey, Sunny.”

Sunny blinked, before twisting again to face Shining Armor. He wouldn’t stop shaking. No, the car was shaking—no, everything shaking.

No. She was shaking.

When did it get so cold?

“Oh hell…” Shining started rummaging around the car. “Are you alright? You’re kinda...” eventually reaching across her to open the compartment by her legs.

Tissues. He was looking for tissues.

Wait, shouldn’t he be looking at the road?

No, they’re just off to the side of the road. When did they park?

“Are—wait…” Shining was holding the tissues out to her, but his brow was furrowed as she stared at her face. Staring at her mouth? It wasn’t open, a test of her trembling jaw proved that. 

“…Is that coffee?”

What? Coffee? Where?

Sunny inhaled wetly—

Wetly?

Her mouth tasted like… coffee? It was hard to taste, but her mouth was wet.

“Wwha—?” A small-but-significant amount of brown liquid spilled from her open mouth, forming a small puddle on her lap—

“M-my dressh…!” Sunny slapped her hands to her lap and slid them forward, repeating the process over and over, hoping to push away as much of the brew as possible.

“Shit! Just, uh!” Shining threw tissue after tissue onto Sunset’s lap. “Here, use these while I…” His tissue-stuffed hand hovered uncertainly by Sunny’s face, but she could care less.

Sunny whole-handed grabbed the now-damp wad of tissues in her lap and wiped at as much of the mess as she could. She patted, pressed, and scrubbed as much as she could for she didn’t know how long. All she could do after wiping as much as she could was stare down at the dark streaks leading to the blotch staining her dress.

Coffee stains. She just remembered that.

Stains never go away.

Permanency.

If she could cry, she would. She didn’t even have the dress for a single day, and she had already managed to irrevocably ruin it. Those ugly streaks and blotches would be there, taunting her. 

Forever.

Typical Sunset.

“So, uh…” Shining turned the car back onto the road, his brown-soaked tissues discarded in a cupholder, “…well, I knew it’d be pretty creepy, but I wasn’t expecting that strong of a reaction.”

What was he…? 

Oh. Right.

…Ha.

That was pretty funny actually.

In, wetly. 

“Ha.” Her laughter felt so slow, so dull and muted. “Ha. Ha ha. Heh. That’sh… ha. Hmhm. Mmm.” 

Sunny held the blanket around her shoulders even tighter. 

In. “N-no. It w-wwas ju-jusht…” What was it? She didn’t want to talk about it. Did she really think of using Shining like that? She didn’t want to think about it. 

“…It w-wwas nn-n-noth-noothh-th-nnn…” 

She hoped he got it.

Shining nodded. “Right. Well, we don’t have to go to my house if you don’t want to. We could find a lot somewhere; I’ll just make some calls from out there.”

In. “N-no.” Sunny shook her head. “Wwe can go. T-t-to yourr houshe.” Out.

“Uhh,” Shining Armor scratched his chin, sniffed, and awkwardly pulled his hand away from his face with a small grimace. “Are you sure? We don’t have to.”

Surely, he didn’t mean any harm with his offer. No, he could only be trying to do something right, right? He had to have already known that there wouldn’t be much she could do if he wanted to lock her up somewhere. 

Wow, wait, was she dumb for getting into the car without Twilight in the first place?

She should probably be more careful about that.

In. “It’sh fine.” Out.

“Alright. We should be there pretty soon.”

Sunny nodded.

A beat.

“…Sorry about your dress.”

In. “Mme too.” Out. 

“Dry cleaning will probably get that out.”

Dry cleaning. What was… that was some kind of chemical wash? For delicate stuff, right?

Maybe that’d work.

Hopefully.

As they rolled to their destination, Sunny kept her eyes to the skies, watching as the sun slowly crept towards the horizon. She kept them there, and dutifully not anywhere else.

Sunset held her blanket close. She didn’t want to see the stains anymore.
> Breathe
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sounds of crashing static emanated through the archway to the living room. Annoyed—partially from the noise, but mostly because he should have known better than to leave his new guest to behave unattended—Shining marched a bit further down the hall, phone pressed against his ear.

“Say that again?” Shining grumbled into the phone, tone low. “I had something annoying in my ear.”

“Wow, rude,” the low voice chuckled back.

“Not you. This time.”

“Uh huh,” the voice grunted. “Anyway, no—beyond what you already know, there’s no word yet.”

“Uh huh, sure,” Shining scoffed, “because things are so secure now, right Bull? That what you’re telling me, or are you living up to your name again?”

“C’mon, Shiner, don’t be like that,” the voice groaned. “You know that they’re getting tight about the stuff we can talk about—”

“Around me, right?” 

“You’re paranoid, man,” Bull’s voice groaned. “Look, I’m not feeding into this, so you’d best move on to whatever you called for. Unless you were just lookin’ for a reason to get yourself pissed off today?”

Frustration drew lines upon Shining’s brow and burned through his veins. There was so much he wanted to say. He wanted to yell, to shout, to call Bulwark out about every time that Shining would walk by and everybody would go quiet, or about how he’d have to eavesdrop on his fellow officers in order to hear them talk normally, or about the looks he caught people giving him any time he picked up a newspaper. 

The easy picks, the patrols through the calmest neighborhoods, the pitying looks, the constant coddling. 

“...Fine,” Shining said. “Fine. Well, I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to come in tomorrow.”

“Oh shit, forreal?” He sounded too damn excited. “You’re actually taking the time off?”

Constant. Coddling. 

Like he was some kind of sickly pet.

“Tomorrow, Bull,” Shining casually grunted through grit teeth. “I won’t be coming in tomorrow.”

“And the day after?”

“I’m planning on it.”

“Damn.” Shining didn’t feel bad for Bulwark’s disappointment; he had it coming. “Well, I’ll put you in for it. Just let me know if anything changes, yeah?”

“Uh huh, thanks.” Shining tried to mean it. “Take it easy.”

“You too, man. Seriously.” 

Shining ended the call. With a heavy sigh, shoving his phone into his pocket. For a moment, he just leaned against the wall, allowing himself a moment of peace in the silent—

Wait.

Shining turned around, gazing down the empty hall towards the now-silent living room, just in time to see Sunset—Sunny—do her best impression of a collapsing house of cards through the archway.

The officer and the corpse simply stared at each other, mouths agape. The expansion of its lungs made the body shift in a way that almost made Shining sympathetically wince.

“Hhhh...” it—she—tried. “...h-h-hhhhh... h-hi.” Her body slumped with a wheeze. 

Was that funny? Even kind of funny? Maybe, if it weren’t for how disturbing it was. Was he bad if he felt the brief urge to laugh? 

Wait, was she eavesdropping? Shining mentally went through everything he said, deciding with a small amount of relief that he didn’t say anything incriminating. He’d still have to be more careful, though.

It was staring at him. Did she want a response?

“...Hey,” Shining drily greeted the crumpled heap of flesh, dress, and blanket. “Watcha doin’?”

Whoosh in. “Ww-walk-king.” Whoosh out.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

In. “Mm w-ww-worknng on itt.” Out.

“You’ll get the hang of it eventually.” Shining found himself approaching the body. “’Riding a bike is like walking,’ or something like that.” He knelt down, meeting her—blue eyes, glassy gaze—as he held out a hand.

For the barest moment, she stared.

In. “Thaaa-aat’sh backwardsh?” Out. With deliberate jerks, Sunset—Sunny—dropped her cool hand into his.

“Sure, if you know how to ride a bike. Probably.” Shining grunted as he pulled Sunset to her feet, supporting her weight as he guided her back to the living room. “You’ve just got an extra step is all,” Shining nodded, stopping next to the couch. “Think fast.”

In. “Wha—?” The rest of her breath left her in a wheeze as Shining suddenly stepped away, letting go. Shining watched as she staggered, arms, shoulders, and head going limp as her feet rapidly, urgently danced. Her body tilted to and fro as feet repeatedly over-balanced and over-extended—

Her leg bumped into the couch, interrupting all of her efforts with a heavy whumph of the cushions.

“Maybe a few steps.”

In. “Y-y-youu...”

“Yeah, you’ll be fine. You’re welcome, by the way.” Sunset didn’t respond, apparently opting to span the length of the comfiest couch in his living room. With a shrug, Shining took two-and-a-half steps back, dropping himself blindly into the comfiest chair.

He tried not to sigh. He really did. 

Damn, that felt too good.

The body on his couch turned and twisted its head on its shoulders, eyes wandering over the surfaces of his living room.

In. “I llliike your hhouuse.” Out.

Shining welcomed the chance at small-talk. “Me too. Not bad for my first house.”

In. “F-firsht?”

“Right out of the parent’s house,” Shining nodded. “Though, it’s not like I didn’t have help. Never would’ve been able to get something this cozy by myself, that’s for sure.”

Sunny also nodded. “L-lucky. It’sh warm.” Out.

“I’d friggin’ hope so, I only got it fixed last month.” 

Sunny nodded.

Silence.

“Say, Sunny.” Eyes rolled to meet his, that glassy, lifeless gaze—

Shining forced his eyes slightly to the left. She probably wouldn’t notice.

“Where did you live before this, anyway?”

In. “Beforee...?” Out.

“Yeah. Before...” He gestured broadly at her sprawled form. 

In. “Yourr turn.” Out.

“What the—no, it’s not.” 

In. “It ish.” 

Shining threw his hands into his hair, groaning in exasperation. “No, it’s not! The last time, I asked if you preferred pop or rock, to which your answer was that you apparently liked both, but I guess you figured that you could milk me for all of the information I was worth, which is running out might I add.”

In. “Hmm...”

“No.”

“...Y-your turn—.”

“Sunset Shimmer was pretty darn good at walking.”

“Doeshn’t count.”

“My foot ‘that doesn’t count.’ It’s a super simple answer for a super simple question.” There was a pause.

The pause became silence.

In. “Not a shimple q-q-questionn.” Out.

Progress. “And why’s that?”

In, but a brief pause. “...Can’t rememberr.” Out.

Whatever. 

“Fine, be that way. I’m gonna get a drink—.”

Inhale. Shining paused, hands on the armrests, as he was moving to rise from his chair.

“Nno. R-rreally.”

Shining waited for more elaboration.

Exhale.

“...That’s it?” Shining leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

Sunny turned away, jerking her chin up and down.

“You really can’t remember?”

Sunny again twisted her head to face him. In. “Th-think I’mm ll-lyingg?” Out.

“Well I’m pretty sure you’re not truthing,” Shining sighed, shaking his head. “You remembered your diary of all things, and you can’t remember your own home?”

Suddenly, the body moved, expression twisting in agony, arms and legs shooting out to the side, and Shining jumped to his feet in alarm—

“L-l-lloooong dayyyyy!” Sunset groggily, noisily, and oh-so-deliberately childishly whined. “Leeave ‘lone!” The rest of her breath left her in a fluctuating wail. 

The one corpse that could talk and it was a comedian determined to make ole Shiner the ass of its jokes.

“...I’m getting a friggin’ drink.” Shining turned towards the hall. “You want anything?”

In. “No, thanksh.” Out. She sounded so darn satisfied.

“Good, ‘cause I wouldn’t’ve gotten it. Be right back—and actually don’t mess with my stuff, this time.”

Shining didn’t wait for a response, marching out of the archway towards the kitchen and yanking open the fridge as soon as it was within reach. Juice, tea, milk... Beer? No, Shining needed to keep his wits about him, today. Tea would be good enough. Hot tea. Shining set the kettle onto the stove.

Thump. Shining looked over his shoulder. Sunny—of course it was Sunny—was leaning against the archway, apparently planning out her next step. Unsteady feet made several false-starts and close calls, but soon enough she rounded the archway into the hall.

She did it. Sunset’s arms were swung out and around with each step, refusing to touch the walls. One, two, three excessively clumsy steps, but she was walking—

Sunny stepped on the wrong side of her foot, collapsing to the floor with a meaty crash. 

Shining did wince. “Hi again.”

In. “H-heyy.” Out.

“Need something?” Shining made his way back over, offering a hand. “I know you know how to shout.” At an almost unnatural angle, her hand met his.

In. “B-borrred. Left ‘lone.” 

“It’s only been a minute,” Shining sighed as he pulled the body to its feet. Awkwardly, he helped her the rest of the way to the kitchen, setting her in one of the chairs. “I’m still not getting you anything.”

Sunny shrugged before limply flopping forward. There was a body slumped over Shining Armor’s table. What the hell was a dead friggin’ body doing at Shining Armor’s table?

Shining turned his head with a quick, deep sigh, opting to stare at the tea kettle. That wasn’t a body at his table, that was Sunny. Or Sunset. Probably Sunny. But maybe...

It was too quiet. He was getting too lost in his thoughts. Shining glanced at the table, question on his tongue.

Glassy eyes stared.

The question died before it had a chance.

Shining truly tried to hold its gaze. “W-what.” 

In. “Booorrred.”

“And why are you staring at me?”

“Wwaaaiting for you to d-do shomething f-f-funny.” Out.

Ugh. “Well can you not be so creepy about it?”

In. “Nnn-n-nnope.” Out. Sunny stared.

She stared like an unblinking body.

Shining needed a distraction.

“Yeah, sorry, but I don’t feel like being laughed at right now.” With a small amount of effort, Shining brushed the bag of bread, jar of spread, and tin of coffee to the side. There, now there was a small, perfectly unobstructed television.

With the press of a button, noise and color filled the room, and of course it was some kind of cheap drama—as though he didn’t have enough drama in his life.

Shining offered Sunset a glance. Strangely enough, she seemed enthralled. Her eyes were wide and jaw gaped as she simply stared into the brightly lit screen. As Monsieur Fraise wept over a harsh rejection at the hands of the oh-so cruel and aloof Bertha (and in front of Cream Puff, no less—how scandalous!), Sunny jerked and shifted until she could properly face the screen without being bothered by her own body’s limitations.

Briefly, Shining thought to change the channel to something that was actually good, but it seemed to keep Sunset happy enough. Now he could go back to staring at his kettle until it whistled in peace. 

He stared.

And stared.

Great, now he was bored.

Okay, he’d give the show a shot. 

Shining pulled out a chair of his own and watched. As expected, it was pretty dumb. The pacing was strange, he could never tell what time of day it was supposed to be, and why did everybody always have to slap Monsieur Fraise? But more interesting than that was Sunny. It seemed like everything that happened got some kind of enjoyment out of her. The jokes. The drama. The unrealistic coincidences. The perpetual slapping. 

Especially the slapping. He knew this rascal was evil.

The old grandfather clock chimed and the water still hadn’t come to a boil. Then again, if it was already chiming the hour, then it hadn’t been that long since Shining put the heat on. That clock was always a few minutes too fast—

Cadance usually got home around this time if she wasn’t spending time with Celestia.

“Hey, Sunny.” Shining Armor abruptly stood up from his chair. “Wait here for a bit, will you? I need to take care of something.” He didn’t wait for a response. Shining paced to the front door, then back and forth at the entryway.

Cadance could be home soon. What would she say? A dead girl was in their kitchen. What would he say, ‘a dead girl is in our kitchen’? Sunset’s really was in their kitchen after all. That, or this was the worst nightmare he’s had yet.

But of course this wasn’t a nightmare; not in the literal sense. Probably. Sunset was in his kitchen and he still didn’t know what to tell Cadance.

Shining heard a car pull into the driveway.

Cadance was home. No putting it off now. In record time, Shining Armor tapped the first number on his speed dial, hoping beyond hope that Cadance was just pulling her phone off of the car’s charger—.

“Hello?” 

Thank goodness.

“H-hey, uh...” Shining swallowed. “Hey Cadence.” Damn it, he had to tell her, but how was he supposed to do that? What was he supposed to say? Relax, Shining, just keep it calm... “...How was your day?”

“It was...” Cadance sighed over the phone. “...Well, it’s getting better, bit by bit. But before that, how was yours? You sound stressed; is everything alright?”

“It, uh...” Shining cleared his throat. Was he that obvious? “W-well—.” Shining heard a breeze strike Cadance’s phone. “I’m at home,” he tried. “And we have a guest.”

“Oh?” Shining heard the car door shut in the driveway. “I’ll be in in a second! Anyone I know—?”

“It’s Sunset Shimmer,” Shining blurted with a shocked blink. “W-well, I think—no, she could be Sunset—damn it.” Shining cleared his throat, scratched his chin, paced while clutching his phone. “S-she’s-I think she’s sitting at our table, and, uh. C-Cadance, I—.”

“Shh, it’s okay, Shining.” Damn it, he knew she’d do that. “I’m here. I’m right at the door, Shiny.” A jingle of keys, but then it stopped. A gentle knock on the door. Shining could hear her talking on the other side. “Can you let me in? Please?”

“Yeah, I’m right here.” Shining only paused to glance back down towards the dining room, where the TV continued to run. Without wasting any more time, he unlocked and opened the door. Not a moment passed after it opened before Cadance’s purse was dropped to the ground.

A kiss to the lips, to the cheek, and a tight embrace. The familiar ritual that brought a bit of peace to Shining’s nerves.

“Welcome home,” Shining murmured into Cadance’s ear and his phone, smiling again when she felt her chuckle against him. 

“Thanks, hon,” Shining heard in both ears. “It’s good to be home.” The tone of the ended call rang in his ear shortly after.

Shining wanted to stay like that for a bit longer, but Cadance apparently had another plan, moving to stare into his eyes, her forehead pressed against his.

“I don’t have a fever,” Shining offered. “I already checked.”

“I just wanted to make sure,” Cadance admitted with a sigh. “You’re scaring me, Shining. I mean, you... well,” Cadance set about removing her high-heels. A distraction and a delaying tactic, he knew; something to do while she gathered her words and thoughts. “Did...” She eventually began, “you just say that-that Sunset Shimmer was in our house?”

“Yeah. W-well, no. I mean—,” Shining shifted his weight, crossing his arms, and sighed. How the hell could he say this? By just saying it, obviously, but how could he ‘just say it’ to his almost-wife?

Shining took another breath. “There’s...” No, no sense in choosing words. Be direct, she’d appreciate that. Just get to the point, Shining. “Either that’s actually Sunset sitting in our dining room, or I really am losing my mind. She’s...” Shining swallowed nerves through a dry mouth. Shining looked into Cadance’s purple eyes.

That was a mistake. He found that ever-present love, yes, but also skepticism and fear. She was afraid for him.

“Sh-she’s in there.” Shining asserted, the shake in his voice catching him off guard. He hated it. “Right now. Th-the TV’s still running, she was watching it, I...”

“Shiny—”

“She’s in there, Cady. I swear it.” He gently took Cadance’s hands into his own. He didn’t just leave the TV on. He didn’t just wake up from another dream. “I-I’m not losing my mind, I can’t be. She’s really in there, Cadance.”

“Shh, breathe, Shining.” She rose, comfortingly squeezing Shining’s hand with her own. “Breathe with me, Shining...” Already she was trying to guide him to breathe as she did, the same exercise she taught the kids she babysat.

Cadance was treating him like a child.

Shining mentally shook himself free of such thoughts. No, no Cadance wouldn’t do that, not like that. She wasn’t like Bulwark, or Armstrong, or Brass, or any of them. 

Cadance went through the motion again. With a gesture, she pulled the air in—

Hair. Eyes. Skin. Mark.

—pushed the air out—

Blanket. Dress. Coffee. Stitches.

—and Shining took a shaky breath that did nothing to calm his nerves. Cadance was getting nervous, even more than she already was. As he held tightly his hand over hers, he could feel her pulse start to race. Or was that his own? No, the way her eyes darted behind him—.

A glance back. Empty hall. Echoes and flashes of some kind of commercial.

Shining began to have second thoughts. Should he really let Cadance see? Seeing Sunset’s body the first time had, admittedly, deeply disturbed him. But the second time...

When they walked over to that entryway, they’d really see Sunset’s body, right?

She’d really be there, right?

“Shiny? Why don’t you show me where she is? Let me see her.”

She still didn’t quite believe him. It was too late to reconsider now.

“Let’s...” Shining quietly cleared his throat. “Yeah. Let’s go see her. With your own eyes. M-make sure I’m, uh...” What? He’s what? “...Make sure I’m not hallucinating or anything, right?” Stalling. He was stalling, babbling.

Just focus on Cadance, Shining. She might be scared. Shining certainly was. He just had to be ready to pull her away, if she needed it. Ready to comfort her if she needed it.

“N-no you’re not...” Cadance hesitantly nodded. “O-okay. Uh, you—who first?”

“Lead on.” Yeah, that was it. Shining was there for Cadance. “At your pace.” He ran his thumb over her knuckles reassuringly. “I’m right here.”

“Okay.” Cadance took a breath. “Heh, if this is some kind of prank,” she murmured as the pair quietly stepped their way towards the dining room, “you’re living at Velvet’s for a long time.”

“Ha, just put me in an asylum.” If she heard him, she didn’t say anything. They just simply moved one steady step at a time. Soon enough, she’d cross that entryway. She only hesitated for just a moment before peeking through the doorway—

Cadance froze. Posture rigid and body still, her breathing became shallower, yet steadier and quieter. She made no sound nor movement. The only sign that she saw anything was the sudden, dangerously strong grip on Shining Armor’s hand. It was the only sign that he needed.

It was true. He wasn’t trapped in a day-long hallucination. Cadance saw her, too. It was real.

Cadance. Was Cadance still breathing? He couldn’t tell. He needed to know.

With a gentle pulls, Shining urged Cadance away from the archway. The moment that she lost sight of the body, she spun into his arms, holding him in the tightest embrace that he’d ever felt. She was wheezing, shaking, panicking. Shining wrapped his arms around Cadance, stroking her hair in what he knew was a futile gesture.

“S-Shining...!” Her hoarse whisper escaped between rapid breaths. “Th-tha—in, in our...!”

“Yeah...” Shining wanted to kick himself. What else could he say? Sunset really was there. He wasn’t imagining this. She was there. 

“W-why?” Cadance backed away just enough to meet her wide eyes to Shining’s. “Why is she here?” How is she—I don’t...” 

“She, uh.” Shining swallowed. He’d never seen Cadance like that before. He’d never have wanted to. “Twilight just kind of... found her. At the library. I f-found them just, uh,” Shining cleared his throat. “talking.”

“Twilight?” Cadance was trying so hard to stay quiet. “Why Twilight? Is she okay—wait,” Cadance choked, “you find her and you bring here here? Why—” Hyperventilating, pulse racing, sweat coating cold palms and furrowed brow. Cadance was pulling at her own hair now, breathing out of rhythm. “—‘Talking’? What do you mean, talking? She—T-Twilight, w-what—?”

“Twilight’s fine,” Shining gently interrupted. “I don’t think she recognized her. And so far, Sunset...” Shining shook his head. “Well, so far, she’s been mostly harmless. Friendly even. Been trying to learn more about—”

“Shining Armor, that is a dead girl’s body, what the hell do you mean ‘she was talking’.” She hadn’t even finished when she turned away, posture hunched with her face in her hands. “What’s happening?” She muttered. “Why? W-what’s h-happening...”

“I don’t know, Cady.” Shining pulled Cadance back into a hug that he knew they both needed. “We’re okay,” he murmured, not knowing what else to say. “We’ll be fine. She won’t be here for long.”

“W-why did you bring her here? Couldn’t you have brought her to the station?” Shining sighed, saying nothing. “Couldn’t you have, have brought her to a hospital?” Shining wanted to shake his head but knew that Cadance would feel it. “Why did you bring her here?”

It was the right thing to do.

“It’s the right thing to do.”

“You don’t know that,” Cadance muttered through her tears. “You can’t know that.”

Shining knew that. Of course he didn’t know what was ‘right,’ but he most certainly knew that anything else he could’ve done would’ve been wrong. Maybe bringing Sunset home wasn’t a perfect idea, but it was the best he had. Shining was doing his best.

Cadance would understand. She just needed to meet Sunset, then she’d understand.





It was warm, it was cold, and there was something happening on the other side of that archway. 

She could hear the breathing, the hushed whispers, the soft crying, and the occasional soft thud. Judging by the shoes at the entryway, Shining didn’t live alone. Somebody else must have come home, but who was it? What were they talking about? Why haven’t they come in yet? They’ve been there for a while.

Could it be a new friend?

“Hey, Sunny.” That was Shining’s voice from the archway, but Sunset couldn’t see. Jerking her body up and twisting her shoulders, Sunny belatedly noticed the gasp as her head lolled into a position where she could adequately make out the pair—

Pair? Yes, there was a new person, she knew it! But was she new? She looked so familiar. That pink skin, that colorful melody in her hair, and those big, wide eyes. 

Sunset knew her. But where...

“Sunny Song, this—”

In. “C-Cadenza.” Mi Amore Cadenza. Yes, that’s who she was; Sunset knew her well. Too well. So many memories rumbled through her mind, nebulous but very very loud. 

Dislike, distrust, disgust, disdain for every ounce of disrespect that Cadenza’s very existence delivered onto her. An enigmatic symbol of, of...

Sunset hated her.

But somehow, Cadenza was wrong.

Hm.

“Oh, you’ve met?” Was that grit Sunny heard in Shining’s teeth?

“W-well,” Cadenza said in that same voice, “I wouldn’t be too surprised. I mean, our schools are rivals. So, u-uh... Sun—can I call you ‘Sunny—?’”

“Sunshet.” Sunny blinked. That was hostile. She didn’t mean to say that. Despite that, she couldn’t help but feel satisfaction at the way Cadenza’s breath hitched.

“S-Sunset. Right. Sorry.” A beat of silence and staring, only barely too long before Cadenza cleared her throat. “Well, it’s nice to properly meet you Sunset! I hope my husband’s treated you well.”

“Fiancé, actually,” Shining offhandedly corrected. 

“Husband,” Cadenza amended.

Cadenza was married? That didn’t seem right.

In. “H-he dropped mee on your c-couch.” Out.

Cadenza blinked, brow furrowed. Her mouth opened. Her mouth closed.

“Technically, she dropped herself.”

Cadenza’s mouth flapped as she was torn between glaring at Shining or gaping at Sunny. She looked so incredulous. So silly.

A sharp whistle cut through the air, growing and growing in volume.

“Oh right, I was making tea.” Shining stepped around the two girls. “You want some?”

In—

“Sure,” Cadenza cut in. “Thanks, hon.”

Hmph. Of course. Sunset just sighed, closing her mouth and turning back to face the TV. Silence returned to the kitchen as Shining removed the kettle. With nothing important left to look at, Sunny turned her gaze back towards the TV. Monsieur Fraise was about to find out that Cream Puff was actually—

Across the table, Cadenza took a seat. 

Great.

“So, Sunset,” Cadenza began. Sunny, reluctantly, turned her eyes to meet Cadenza’s too-manufactured smile. “How do you like our home?”

In. “It’sh n-nice.” Out.

“I’m glad you think so. We did our best with it.” A beat, occupied by overly dramatic wails and the stirring of a mug. “Oh, do you want some tea, too?”

Sunny glanced at Cadenza, meeting her oblivious smile with a smirk of her own. In. “Y-yesh, pleashe—”

“Nope,” Shining called over his shoulder. “Nuh-uh, not happening.”

“Wha—” Cadenza twisted in her seat, “Shiny, don’t be mean.”

“She started it,” Shining grunted, taking a seat next to Cadenza and placing her mug (a pink, gaudy, ‘World’s Prettiest Princess’ mug, no less) in front of her. “Ever since I met her, she hasn’t cut me a break.”

In. “You s-s-say that liiike you don’t l-like me.” Out.

“Probably because I don’t, ya’ jerk.”

“Shiny!” Cadenza was quick to admonish. “Don’t worry, Sunset. I think we both can tell that he at least kind of likes you.” 

Sunny wasn’t worried. Only annoyed.

“Okay, maybe more than ‘kind of’ if he brought you home, but you get it.”

In. “Yesh.” It was so strange. Cadenza hadn’t said anything bad. If anything, she was being nice.

Why did Sunny want her to just stop talking?

“So, uh not to sound rude...” Cadenza daintily blew on her tea before taking a sip. “But what brings you to our home, anyway?”

In. “Ssshhhining.” There was a pause as Cadenza waited for her to elaborate.

She didn’t.

“What Sunny means,” Shining started with a sigh, “is that I brought her here to make sure she stays out of trouble while we figure out what to do next. After I got to rest my mind a little, at least.” 

“Oh, I see...” Did she really? One look at Cadenza’s face told Sunny that she didn’t, but maybe she was biased. “Well, what kind of things do we need to figure out?”

“Well, first and foremost we need to find a place for Sunny here to stay that’s out of the way.”

“Out of the—” Cadenza spluttered, shifting to face Shining Armor. “Shiny are we just going to keep Sunset secret?”

Oh boy.

“Well, that was the idea. Or at least keep her—or anyone else, but mostly her—away from trouble until...” Shining stared into the steam wafting from his mug. “...well, until we figure something better out, I guess.”

“But we’re going to just... ‘hide her away’ somewhere? ‘Out of sight, out of mind’?”

“No, Cady. Not that—never that. That’s why I’m looking at options.”

“But the way you make that sound...” Cadenza set down her mug with a shake of her head. “How could that be fair to Sunset?”

‘I’m right here, you stupid, pink—’

“Sunset.” Sunny blinked, eyes drawn to Cadenza’s purple. “Sunset, are you okay with that?”

In. “N-nope.” Out.

“Right, so what do you want?”

In. “I w-want to knoww who I amm.” Out.

“I...” A blink. A deep breath. “...Well, yes. I get that—I mean, I heard that—but..." Carefully kept fingernails tapped the side of the mug as Cadenza chewed her lip. “I meant about this,” Cadenza vaguely elaborated as she gestured to the air around her. “Where you stay and what you do and where you’re going to go. Are you okay with being treated like some kind of, of...”

In— 

“F-frrreak?” Sunset suddenly croaked through a half-taken breath, blinking in surprise.

“You’re not,” Cadenza was quick to lie. “Sure, you’re pretty... different, let’s say.” Sunset blinked. “But ignoring your differences to everybody else, what do you want? How do you want us to treat you?”

Shining opened his mouth to speak, but abruptly cut himself off at Cadenza’s glance.

All eyes were on Sunny.

What did she want? Where did she want to be? With Twilight, obviously, but Shining said she couldn’t do that, and she didn’t have the dexterity or resources to sneak her way to Twilight anyway. Maybe Old Flint? No, no, that’s a cemetery; Sunset was not stepping foot into a cemetery again without good reason, and living there—un-living there?—was definitely not a good enough reason. 

Here? In this house, maybe?

No, Shining was a jerk.

Actually, perhaps this would be a good choice for now. Shining was a jerk, but a useful one.

The house was warm.

“Sunset,” Cadenza snapped her from her reverie. “Where did you live before you—”

“Shutt up,” Sunset spat in a fit of explosive anger. Her vision swayed with her body as rampant thoughts robbed her of her focused control. How dare she, stupid Cadenza, try to-to step in and try to make her—!

“Okay!” The woman raised her hands placatingly, defensively, like one would thing to do for a rabid dog. “Okay. I won’t bother you about it. But if you do think about something...” Cadenza hesitated. For a moment, the woman worked her jaw, trying to form words that would do nothing but drive her further away.

There was a tense silence that even Sunny could feel.

“...I need to wash up. Get this stupid makeup off.” Gently, Cadenza set her mostly-full mug onto the table. “And to organize my thoughts a little,” she added with a laugh that she so clearly didn’t feel. “I’ll be upstairs for a little bit. Just shout if you need me, alright? Either of you.”

“Sure thing, Cady.” Shining’s tone was even. Flat.

How long had Shining been staring at Sunset?

“Alright. Good. I’ll be back in a bit. Behave, you two.”

A beat. Then two. Then, awkwardly, Cadenza shuffled away.

In silence, the officer and the dead girl stared.

“I won’t say this twice.” Shining stated, voice low but firm with audible emotion. “Be nice to my wife.”

In. The ‘or what’ was already on Sunset’s tongue—

“Sunset, be nice to Cadance.”

“S-sorry,” Sunset found herself sighing.

With a slow nod, Shining took a sip from his own mug. “It’s getting late. I still have calls to make and things to check.”

But Sunny only barely heard him, mind a blur. She didn’t know what she was feeling. Anger? Resentment? Regret? Everything. Sunny was feeling everything and nothing. 

Cadenza wasn’t in the room anymore. What was all that? Every time she looked at Cadenza’s stupid face, she just...

“Oh, and your dress,” Shining continued, drawing Sunset from her cloud of mindless thoughts. “As much as I’d love to see you get processed with it, I think it would save heartache for everyone if you took it off before we sent it to the cleaners.”

He was so bad at being mean.

In. “Rright.” Ah, wait, she couldn’t be naked. That was bad. “Ch-chaaange?” Out.

“I’m sure Cadance has some stuff she’d let you borrow. Want to get on that now?”

In. “C-C-Cadennz’s in the baaathroom?”

“Yeah, I know you’d appreciate the extra walking space, but I think the guest bathroom would be enough to change clothes.” 

Sunny nodded, and Shining was again on his feet, carefully adjusting her arm slung over his shoulders. The stairs were an adventure far greater than the steps to the porch. It took all of Sunny’s focus to remember to raise foot after foot, tilting neither forward nor back lest she hurt Shining. 

Climbing stairs. It would take a long time to be able to do that again.

A longer-than-expected walk down a hall, a single turn and an open door. Beyond that door was a rather pretty sight. Artistically tiled floors, polished brass, a chair and a vanity inside of a rather spacious bathroom. So clean. So shiny.

A bathtub. A real bathtub big enough for her to lie in that probably had a working hot-water nozzle and oh gosh for some reason Sunset’s knees grew weak with nostalgia and something else; something reserved for seeing something that one once had and loved but could never have again.

Could she live here? Just this room would be fine. Twilight Sparkle and Old Flint could visit, and Shining Armor could stop by every now and then. It would be perfect.

Sunny wanted to use that bathtub.

No. No, she couldn’t. That—she didn’t want to impose. That wasn’t hers, she didn’t have the right to it. Not yet. Maybe one day.

“Okay, you know what,” Shining grunted as Sunny realized she was simply dangling off of his shoulder. A few quick steps and a twist later, Shining had deposited Sunny onto the vanity’s chair. The large mirror in front of her reflected an admittedly grave image. Sunny couldn’t explain it as she stared. 

She looked like the girl in the picture, Sunset Shimmer. She looked like her, but she also looked wrong.

“There we go. You do your thing; I’ll go get that change of...” A look. A moment of hesitation. 

In. “Whaat?”

“Uh, well.” Shining awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Do, you—I mean, that dress is pretty elaborate. Do you know how to take it off, or...”

...Oh.

Crud.

“I, uhh...” Sunny shed her blanket, pushing and pulling and raising her shoulders and arms, twisting her head, her neck, and her body just trying to catch a glimpse of a solution.

“Hey, lean forward a little?”

“Hmm?” Sunny did, taking the opportunity to see of the solution was for some reason near her legs—

“Ahhhh, heck.” That didn’t sound good. “You, uh... This dress is tied all the way up your back. I’ll go get Cadance—”

“No,” Sunny wheezed, before sucking in another breath.

“No no, nope,” Shining interrupted, his reflection shaking its head behind hers. “You’re going to need help with this and I’m not doing it. I don’t know what your problem with Cadance is, but remember that you’re in her house, too.”

Sunset grit her teeth.

“...Look,” Shining sighed. “Just give her a chance, alright? She’s doing her best. We all are.”

Sunset didn’t want to. 

“Do you want this dress cleaned or not?”

...

“Thish hash to b-bee shome kind of c-c-criiime,” Sunny sighed.

“Pretty sure you’re wrong,” Shining briefly smirked with a small pat on Sunny’s shoulder. “Besides,” he called, turning away, “what would you do, call the police?”

In. “Y-y-you know I wwaaant to!” Sunny called after him, but he had already fled the scene.

Now all she could do was wait.

Great.

It didn’t take long, as it turned out. Only some number of minutes—of taking in the elaborate guest bathroom later, and Cadenza had already entered, free of formal wear and makeup and she actually looked kind of nice without makeup and that thought made Sunset furious but Shining said she was supposed to play nice so she’d try not to—

“Hi, Sunset,” Cadance greeted with a tense smile. “Fancy meeting you again.”

In. “Hhi.” Out.

“So...” Cadance padded her way into the room, movements slow, eyes flitting between Sunset’s back and reflection. “Oh gosh, you have nice hair.”

In. “Hm.” Play nice, Sunny, play nice. “Th-thaanksh.” Out.

“You’re welcome, just saying.” Pink hands rested on the back of Sunset’s chair over the blanket. “So, right. You needed help with your dress?”

Sunset inhaled with a nod. “It’sh tied onn.”

“Right. Well, let me take a look and see what I can do. Lean forward please?”

Sunny did. Warm hands shifted her hair to the side before delicately plucking at something on her back.

“G-gosh,” Cadenza chuckled pathetically, “this thing’s really tied on, huh? N-never seen a laced-back dress outside of movies.” 

In. “L-la-aced?” Out.

“Yeah. Really tight, too. If I could just hurry up and g-get this, this knot...” Sunset could hear the unsteady sigh behind her. Whole minutes passed of just breathing and pulling and whispers and sighs. 

“C’mon, hurry up,” Cadenza muttered. “Please, just...”

Inhale—

“Got it!” Cadenza sighed in relief as she began tugging and pulling. “Wow, I thought that stupid knot would never come out!”

“Mm p-pretty shure th-th-thaaaht’sh the idea.” Out.

Cadenza took a breath, as though about to speak, but abruptly fell silent.

In. “W-wwas joke.” Out.

“O-oh.” A soft clearing of the throat. “Right, ha ha—uh,” the light tugs on her back paused. “Can I? Laugh at that, I mean.”

In. “Shure.” Out.

“Right.” For some reason, Cadenza didn’t laugh. There were no sounds except for string being pulled through cloth.

The tugging paused as Sunny took in a deep breath. She was able to take in so much air now that the dress was loose. Probably not much more, but more than expected. Dropping her head, Sunny gazed down at the somewhat-loose chest of her dress, streaked with coffee as it was. She really hoped that those stains came out—

“Is something wrong?” Sunny blinked. As she twisted her head and shoulders to look at Cadenza, Sunny’s head lolled back and Cadenza cringed. “I-I just,” Cadenza tried again, “well, I thought you were trying to s-say someth—doesn’t that hurt?”

“Dooeshn’t w-w-what hurrt?” Out.

“I—Right, nevermind, sorry.” One last long pull. “Well, that’s the last of the string. String? Cord? Sorry, I’m not sure the actual term,” Cadenza awkwardly laughed. Wasn’t she was supposed to be good at this stuff? “I’ll, uh...” She placed the string onto the vanity’s counter. “Well, do you need to take off your bra, or can I just—.” Her mouth shut with clack of teeth. “Should I just go?”

‘Please do.’ 

Sunny nodded.

“Okay, uh...” The sound of slippers on the floor. “I’ll just—I mean, if you’re sure...”

In. “Mhm.” Out.

A beat.

“Okay.” A sigh. “I’ll... I’m right outside if you need something.”

A silence.

A click.

Finally, Cadenza was gone. Sunset could relax.

With much effort and several minutes of awkward twisting and pulling, a single arm was finally freed. Thankfully, much of the dress drooped away with the sleeve. Sunset glanced down at her mostly bare body.

The stitches. 

Sunny blinked. Then again.

The stitches, thick and rough, pulling the skin taut against itself. Blue eyes roamed the pattern running from each shoulder down her ribs and curved under her breasts. The two lines of stitches met at the center of her chest, before running down her belly, around her belly-button and disappearing beneath the, uh... that smaller cloth.

That... wasn’t normal. A body didn’t need stuff like thread—gosh, those were thick. Was that even thread anymore?—to hold itself together, right? No. But why would...?

Ah. She’d been gouged out. 

Right.

Sunny gently poked and prodded and plucked at the stitches and crease of folded skin they made between them. It looked so strange. She’d never seen such a thing before. No, that wasn’t true. She saw something like that on a, a, oh what was that called—‘baseball!’ Yes, a baseball. But such a thing didn’t belong on people, right? Was it because she was dead? 

Right, not just dead. She was different.

Sunset dared a glance up at the vanity mirror, beholding herself in all of her half—or perhaps three-quartered—dressed glory. The stitches, a large ‘Y’ shape except the top was more of a wide ‘U’. The stem met just under her sternum, running down the center of the rest of her discolored torso.  

Sunset blinked. Yes, her body was a different color. She could see it right around the base of her neck. Everything below her neck was pale but dark; only distantly related to the color that was on her face and hands. Why? Looking at her hand, she could see the color abruptly change at her wrist as well. That also wasn’t normal. Gazing back at the mirror she took it all in, her body, her stitches that dull stare and the slight droop of her jaw. 

She was ugly. 

Sunny sadly shook her head. She knew she wasn’t pretty in the first place—well, she was, but not really—but to finally remember that...

It didn’t matter. The dress would hide it all anyway. It needed to be cleaned.

With her free hand and loosened collar, Sunny managed to slide her arm out of the other sleeve—

Lines. Ridges. Splits and valleys.

What?

That was...

No, something was wrong. 

Arms didn’t look like that. Skin didn’t look like that. She glanced between her clear arm and the marred thing where her other should be. A pressure built in Sunset’s mind as she stared at the strange appendage that was attached to her shoulder. She stared and stared because she knew—she forgot much but she knew—that arms weren’t supposed to look like that. 

Her arm.

Her arm looked so pale and ugly and wrong and, and...

...Disgusting.

Yes, disgusting. She was disgusting. The pressure faded as Sunny eased back into the chair. She traced the patterned marks line by line by scratch by slice; as ugly out as she was in. They were her reminder. She deserved this.

Sunset threw her arm to the side out of her sight. She was suddenly cold. Shivering, she planted her hands on the counter—

Ugly. Disgusting. Unworthy.

—Tore her eyes away, she just needed to keep her eyes forward. She stared ahead, finding the vanity mirror—

Your own making. Your own fault.

—Nothing was working, she just slammed her eyes shut as she shoved herself upright—

So dark. So cold. Nobody there. Unworthy.

—Fell back against the chair with a breathless cry. She couldn’t escape, she couldn’t get out. Everywhere she looked and everywhere she didn’t, on her body and inside of it, she found constant reminders of her marks, her punishments, what she deserved.

She deserved this.

Shaking, freezing, Sunset threw her arms and legs and back against the chair over and over and over, desperately trying to escape the limbs of scars old, scars new, split and cleaved flesh, memories, regrets, guilt, pressure, almost too much—

Stillness. Calm. Nothing. She deserved this. She deserved this—

Sunny tried to scream. She was screaming, but she had no air. She needed air, but she couldn’t breathe. The world was suffocating her, and she didn’t know if she could last, but that was okay. 

That was normal. 

This was normal. 

She had this coming. 

She deserved this—

Air bubbled through Sunny’s throat, exiting as a gurgling scream. Her arm—her leg?—collided with the vanity, crashing both herself and the chair to the ground and she was making so much noise and she tried to hold still but she couldn’t. She couldn’t get away from her own arm, or her own legs, or the darkness that hid behind her eyelids, or the freezing cold. She reached for her blanket—

Last one. One more. 

One more. 

More.

More.

—Sunny writhed and twisted, gurgling and spitting. She curled into a ball, desperate for warmth, but that only pulled the disgusting, ugly, monstrous, demonic, parts of her closer and she wanted to close her eyes but the dark, cold, empty, undeserving, nothing was waiting for her behind her eyelids, and she was all alone, all alone, her own fault, she deserved—

“Sunset!” Constant knocking on the hollow door. “Sunset? Are you okay?!”

Cadenza. 

“Shiny, something’s wrong! Sunset, I’m coming in. I’m coming in, okay?”

Mi Amore Cadenza.

“C-C-Ca-Khkk—!” Sunset couldn’t talk. Something in the way. In, wetly. Force it out. “C-C-Cad-ennzzakkh...!” In. “P-plsh!”

“I-I’m coming in!” Latch turned, door flew, slammed, a harsh gasp, “Sunset!” Pink and purple and yellow and wide eyes—eyes—!

“N-nho!” Sunny curled, rolled, limbs crossed, covered twisted. “D-dhont l-loo-loook—!” Hands and fingers and arms covered and hid the offending marks, but every time a hand covered one, another was revealed. Cadenza could see everything. 

Nothing was right and nothing was fair. Cadenza stood and stared and saw Sunset in a way that she never wanted Cadenza to see. Nobody was ever supposed to see her, but Cadenza of all ponies did. Now she’d know that Sunset was ugly, broken, unworthy, not good enough, never good enough.

Sunny was paralyzed, frozen on the ground with nowhere to look or hide.

She wanted to scream, to shout, to hide, to cry. Her mind was storming and she was caught in the endless tide of crashing thoughts. 

‘Go away—'

‘come back—'

‘don’t look at me—'

‘please help me—'

‘Leave me alone!’

‘I don’t want to be alone.’

Unworthy.

Cold, sharp, the world rushing too fast—

Soft. 

Sweet. 

Warm.

“Shh,” Cadenza soothed, maneuvering both of their trembling bodies on the floor until they were facing the bathtub and nothing else. Bright lights, porcelain, and a curtain of pink and purple and yellow hair. Sunny still shook, squirmed, and struggled to escape herself, and Cadenza helped her. Cadenza leaned Sunny’s back against her front simply held the squirming corpse close. Sunset’s marred arm was trapped against her side as Cadenza held her close. A trembling hand against Sunny’s forehead kept her facing the ceiling.

Cadenza was helping her.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Sunny was shaking. Cadenza was shaking. “Y-you’ll be okay, okay? Just, uh...”

Sunny kept trying to talk, to tell Cadenza to just shut up, to please keep talking, to stop patronizing her, to keep comforting her, to go away because Sunset hated her, to please stay because Sunset needed her. She tried and tried but every breath that Sunset took left her in a broken, toneless cry. Sunny rolled her eyes up to Cadenza’s face.

She was crying. 

Mi Amore Cadenza was crying.  Why was she crying? Her smile trembled like water. Why was she shaking? She should be laughing, smirking, oozing with false pity, so why was she crying?

“Y-yes! Yes, just keep looking at me. You’ll be okay.” Sunny’s despairing moans grew suddenly harsh as Cadenza moved the hand on her head, but almost as soon as it left, the warmth of a blanket—her blanket—had been wrapped around her almost-bare body. “There, th-that’s much better, right?” 

In.

“C-c’dn’,” Sunny cried.

In.

“C’dnzzr w-whaaaaa...!” Sunny screamed. Nothing was working. She couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe, but she was so warm, so cold, so warm, frozen—

“No nono—here, uh, here...” Sunset felt Cadenza slip into the blanket, gently coaxing out her arm—clean, wrong, unworthy, the one that gives—with Sunset’s hand in her own. “Here, I,” Cadenza swallowed, “This is something I did with Twilight when she was younger and scared and, uh...”

Twilight? Twilight. Cadenza knew Twilight. Focus on Cadenza and Twilight.

“H-here, just—okay, so you hold your arm out like this—”

Sunny couldn’t stop it, she began to thrash again—

“N-no! No, no, you don’t have to look, okay? Just keep looking at me, okay?” Sunset obliged, keeping her eyes tied to Cadenza’s own. Cadenza’s eyes were so subtly shaking. Was that normal? That was, wasn’t it? Did her own eyes still tremble? It didn’t matter, Cadenza had such nice eyes.

“Yes, yes that’s it! Just look at me and feel the motion, okay? W-with your hand, you guide the good air to you, okay? It wants to find you; you just need to guide it. Just pull it in like this...”

Cadenza closed her eyes as she took a slow, deep breath through her nose. As she did, Sunny felt the warm hand guide her own to her chest.

“...and then you push the bad air out...” And as the wind shakily breezed through Cadenza’s lips, Sunny felt her arm extend again. “...like that. N-now breathe with me, okay? In...”

Sunny breathed in with the pull.

“...and out...”

Sunny cried out with the push. She shouldn’t be whining; she should be breathing. She just needed to breathe, why couldn’t she just—

“Good!” Cadenza nodded with a smile Sunset found difficult to believe. “That was good. Do it again? In...”

In.

“Out...”

The moaning cry turned into a frustrated scream as Sunny—

“Good, you’re doing so good!” Cadenza quickly lied. “It’s okay if you make noise, okay? It’s not the sound that’s important, just that you breathe in...”

In.

“...And out...”

Sunny cried out.

“...And in...”

In.

“...And out...”

A broken, shaking moan.

“...And in...”

In, wetly.

“...A-and out...”

A spluttering, whispering sob.

“...And in...”

Sunny squirmed in Cadenza’s hold, twisting and rolling, feeling the arms stiffly adjust to Sunny’s new position. She couldn’t smell, couldn’t taste, couldn’t feel anything other than the warmth of Cadenza’s arms around her back and shoulder against her face.

“A-and, uh... out...”

Muffled and blinded by Cadenza’s shoulder, Sunny wrapped her arms around Cadenza and cried.





Tired. 

Exhausted. 

Pooped. Over. Done.

No, not done. Never done.

Cadance sagged into the study’s couch with a sigh, pressed even further into the soft cushions by the cool body curled up against her from her lap.

It was difficult getting Sunset properly dressed, what with the girl refusing to let Cadance go for any reasonable amount of time. Yet, despite the struggle, Sunset and Cadance did it. Sunset was dressed in hilariously baggy sweat-pants and that fantastically hideous holiday sweater that Shining had gotten for Cadance that year. Talking at Sunset about how much Shining cringed and laughed when she first wore it around the house had pacified the girl just enough to guide her arms into the sleeves.

She had no idea what she could say to calm that girl down enough to let her go. It wasn’t very comfortable, being weighed down and bound by the cold arms of the cool body of a very-much-so-dead girl that was Sunset Shimmer, this was Sunset Shimmer, she’s dead, she’s holding a dead—

Good air in...

‘This is fine, Cadance. You’re safe. This is weird, but safe.’

...Bad air out.

Following her own exhale, Cadence felt the rush of room-temperature air brush against her neck as Sunset’s body deflated against her. Cadance tried not to shiver, truly she did, but if the way the body shifted was anything to go by, she probably failed. 

Cadance glanced helplessly at Shining who was only feet away at his desk. Shining met her gaze and shrugged helplessly back, continuing to type away on his laptop and phone.

His old radio was off. And his jacket was on.

Cadance was safe, right?

In... 

In.

...Out. 

Out.

The silence was too much.

“I’m...” Cadance mulled over how to politely express her fatigue. “I’m really darn tired.”

“Yup.”

In. “Mhm.” Out.

Ah, she spoke. Well, grunted. Hummed? Whatever.

“You okay?” Cadance murmured, giving Sunset’s shoulders a gentle squeeze.

Sunset sluggishly jerked her head up and down.

“That’s good,” Cadance hummed, idly rubbing Sunset’s back. “We’ve all had a long day today—you, especially.”

Another nod. 

Silence.

‘...Awkward.’

“So, Shiny,” Cadance started, shifting in her seat, “think we can get Sunset’s dress to the cleaners’ tomorrow?”

Shining regarded her, brow raised.

Cadance meaningfully glanced at the form curled against her.

Shining’s mouth pursed in thought.

Cadance raised a brow of her own.

Shining conceded with a resigned nod.

“Well, all of my ideas are falling through so far, so I think we’d have time. Why, got something in mind?”

Perfect, Shiny.

“I was thinking of getting Sunset here a change of clothes, just for her. Something that she isn’t practically swimming in, anyway,” Cadance giggled, giving the sweater a light pull.

Sunset trembled, but otherwise said nothing.

“Say, Sunset...” Sunset didn’t react. 

That wouldn’t do. Cadance was not just going to talk at Sunset forever.

“Oh Sunset,” Cadance sang, giving the body’s back a couple of gentle pats. 

After just a moment, Sunset raised her gaze to meet Cadance’s eyes. Her cold, cold, dead, deceased gaze. 

Cadance hoped Sunny couldn’t feel the way her heart sped up again.

“I was wondering what kind of clothes you like. You seemed—,” Cadance’s heart froze, “—like a fashionable gal.” 

Sunset stared.

Cadance mentally kicked herself for the slip of tongue, resisting the urge to swallow or chew her lip. Why did she keep doing that? Sunset was staring. There was no way that Sunset didn’t notice that. Sunset was staring. Was she mad or offended? Did she somehow manage to make her crap situation even worse—?

Sunset blinked.

Sunset breathed in, and Cadance wanted nothing more than to sigh in relief.

“L-ll-l-leatherr...” She breathed out.

“Oh?” Leather, huh? Cadance guessed as much from the pictures, but this wasn’t just about learning. “Leather everything, or...?”

Sunset shook her head. 

Inhale. “Jaaackets.” Sunset’s head lolled to the side. “And v-vveshts.” Exhale.

“Ooh, what color?” Cadance buried her nerves beneath enthusiasm. “I bet you’d look good in purple.”

Sunset grinned, but shook her head. In. “B-black.” 

“Black leather jackets, huh?”

“Mhm,” Sunset breathed through a smile.

“I don’t know if we can find something like that,” Cadance chuckled, “but I think I get your style, now. You’re a pretty bad gal, aren’t ya’?”

Sunset’s mouth jerked into an easy smirk that looked so much like the ones that Cadance saw in the pictures. So confident, so headstrong. So self-assured that nothing could get in her way. It was so easy to forget that the girl in those pictures had passed away—

Ugly stitches, meant to hold, not heal. 

Pale flesh painted to imitate life.

Scars. Gashes. So neat. So orderly.

Slack-jawed and wide-eyed. What could a dead girl be afraid of?

Cadance held the girl a bit closer as she buried her face into Cadance’s shoulder.

Darn it. She forgot to keep talking. And her nerves were rising again.

In. In.

Out. Out.

“You’re pretty cool, y’know?” An awkward silence never stopped Cadance.

In. “You’rre w-warmmm...” Out.

“I think that’s your blanket,” Cadance laughed. “Or your sweater. I know for a fact that thing works.”

“Gosh, it’s ugly,” Shining chuckled along. “I couldn’t stop looking at it. I had to pick it up.” Cadance felt Sunset nod in agreement.

In. “I-I love iit.” Out.

“Me, too. But don’t worry,” Cadance sighed, patting Sunset’s back. “You can borrow it.”

In. “Thanksh.” Out.

“Anytime.”

There was silence again, interrupted only by Shining’s ‘I’m so incredibly done with this’ sigh and stretch.

“No luck?”

“None, hon. All spots are either too high-profile or not-at-all economic for us. That just leaves us with all of our Plan ‘B’s.”

“And what’re our ‘Plan ‘B’s’?”

“Good idea, Cady. What’d’ya have in mind?”

Cadance groaned. “You stink.”

In. “H-he doesh.” Out.

“I’m feeling pretty ganged up on right now.”

“Whatever, Shiny. Hm...” Cadance hummed in thought, belatedly realizing that she was idly playing with Sunset’s hair. Letting it drape back down Sunset’s back, she began going through her list. “Not Luna’s, obviously.”

“Right.”

“Not your parents place?”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“They get nervous that I carry a gun at work,” Shining scoffed. “Can you imagine if I brought home a body?”

Right. Body. Sunset’s dead. Sunset’s in her arms and dead, she was holding Sunset’s body against her own. A cold, weeks-old corpse was in her arms—.

In, and in.

Out, and out.

C’mon Cadance, just don’t think about it.

“Fair.” A beat. “What about—.”

Sunset breathed in again. Shining tilted his head in question at Cadance’s sudden pause, nodding in understanding as she patted the body’s back.

“C-cann’t I stay h-h-here?” Out.

Oh boy...

“W-well.” Cadance’s heart trembled when Sunset looked up as she looked down. “Well, you’re welcome to stay here tonight.” Sunset stared. “Tomorrow, too.” She stared. “I mean, do you have somewhere you’d like to go? Somewhere out of the way to live—,” Cadance cleared her throat, “—stay until we, uh... figure out...”

The eyes of a corpse held her gaze. 

Cadance felt nothing but shame as she looked away.

In. “L-library.” Out.

Shining sighed in exasperation. “You can’t live in the library.”

In. “Y-yesh you can.” Out.

“No, Sunny,” Shining groaned, as though they had this talk before. “Try again.”

Cadance raised a brow. “Should I ask?”

“Later.”

In. “J-Joe’sh.” Out.

“You can’t live in diners, either!”

In. “T-Twilight—.”

“No.” 

So sharp and cold. Too sharp. Cadance felt Sunset shiver in her arms. Cadance couldn’t stay quiet.

“Twilight, uh...” Cadance cleared her throat, clogged with nerves as it was. “Twilight lives with Shining’s parents. We don’t want to give them a heart-attack or something.”

Sunset was silent.

In. “Sh-sheem-shemetary.” She blinked. No way. “Th-the shedd.” Out.

“The,” Cadance swallowed, “the cemetery?” Sunset nodded. “Why?”

In. “Nnot here.” Out.

Oh no. 

Cadance looked back to Sunset’s stare. Nothing. Blank. Neutral. Unreadable. 

“No, I...” Cadance floundered. “We didn’t mean it like that. I promise we’re not trying to g-get rid of you or anything, just, uh...”

Sunset’s expression didn’t change. Cadance looked helplessly to Shining for some kind of help. He was apparently trying to think of what to say as well, mouth twisting in that way it does when he’s deep in thought.

“Sunny...” he began. “You... want to stay here?”

No no no no—

In. “C-Cadenza doeshn’t—.”

“No, what?” How did things suddenly go so wrong? “No, of course I’d like for you to stay! It’s just...” Oh no. What could she say? “...It’s complicated.”

Ohhh, and the one thing she said was one of the worst she could’ve. Of course.

“No, that’s...” Cadance backtracked. “That’s not right. I just... have concerns is all.” Ugh, and that was too vague.

“D-don’t wannt me h-hheeere.” Out.

“No.” Cadance couldn’t think of what to say. “No.” What could she say? 

This girl in her arms, frail and vulnerable, crying, screaming, flailing in despair. So desperate for something to, to ground her? Hold her? Something that would send this girl into Cadence’s arms of all places. 

Even dead, her face was so young. She was so small. Celestia always talked about Sunset—that bright, clever mind and headstrong personality. A true go-getter, driven, determined. Was this that same girl? She seemed nothing like that. Yet, she seemed everything like that. 

So focused and so aloof, yet desperate for a truly human interaction. To feel cared about for beyond what they could offer or give.

A person they could talk to.

A place where they could laugh or cry.

Sunset would’ve looked good in a Crystal Prep uniform.

Cadance wanted Sunset to stay so bad, but Shining Armor. She couldn’t put all these days—these weeks—of Shining’s progress at risk.

“Cady.” Cadance blinked, eyes caught by her husband’s. “Can we talk?”

“Yes.” Cadance didn’t hesitate. They needed to talk. He needed to know how dangerous that could be. Cadance delicately shifted Sunset off of her lap—

A firm grip of cold hands. In. “N-no.” Sunset held Cadance to the couch and looked at her with those eyes, sad eyes, glassy dead eyes, and she looked so pathetic—

Cadance shook her head. “Sorry, Sunset, I’ll just be a minute, alright?” Cadance ran a hand through Sunset’s hair. She tried not to think of the ridge of thick thread on Sunset’s scalp. “We just need to talk, and then I’ll be right back, okay?”

“D-donn’t go.” Sunset insisted, urgent, desperate. “Don’ leave me ‘lone.” The hands of a dead body held her so tight.

“I-I...” Cadance glanced at Shining. He was there, standing by his desk. He was watching. Staring. His face was blank, but his hand hovered uncertainly. 

Was she safe? 

Darn it, he was only making her more nervous, just focus on it—her, focus on her.

“I need to, Sunset. I swear, this won’t take long.” Cadance rested her own hands over Sunset’s, giving them a soft, hopefully-comforting squeeze. “Please, Sunset. I’ll be right out in the hall, then I’ll come right back. Okay? I’ve heard the stories, I know you’re a pretty strong girl. So just a few minutes—five tops. Me and Shiny need to talk, then I’ll be right back here to talk about which room you can use and where the blankets are and what books you like to read because I know you have to like books if you’re friends with Twilight.

“Just... just let me go, okay? Five minutes.”

“...F-fiive...” The grip faltered. “F’ve minnutes...” Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Good air in.

Good air in.

Bad air out.

...

...Bad air out.

Sunset let go.

“Thank you, Sunset,” Cadance sighed, rising to her feet. “We’ll be right back, I promise.”

In. “O-okkay...” Cadance took Shining’s arm in her hand, though more for her sake than his. They opened the door—

“C-come baack.” Soft. Sorrowful. A huddled form on the couch, staring at the doorway. “C-come back. Don’t l-leave mm-mmme—”

“Don’t worry, Sunny,” Shiny called from the doorway. “We’ll be quick. Besides, you’re in our house; it’s not like we have anywhere to run.”

In. “B-but...”

“Five minutes, Sunset.” Cadance held up her palm, fingers spread. “I’m counting. You can count, too, okay? Just five.”

“S-Shin’ng... C’denzzr...” Silence. The pair quietly stared at the body on their couch. 

It took a breath.

“O-one... t-t-two...”

Cadance wanted to cry. “Thank you, Sunset. We’ll be right back.” 

The door shut with a faint click.

“Cadance—”

“Shining, she can’t stay here.”

“But she wants to Cadance.” Their voices were low, hushed. “Wasn’t that what you wanted? To see what she wanted to do?”

“Yes, but this is too risky!” It took so much effort to not shout. “I’m worried—”

“About what, Cady? This would be the best solution. Think about it: we can watch her, we don’t get many visitors anyway, there’s no weird rent bills from a hotel or campground, and she’s around people who care.”

“Right, but what about you, Shiny?”

Confusion bloomed on his face and Cadance was torn between wanting to hug him and cry and just—just something, she— 

“Shiny, she’s not going to find out, but what would your therapist say?”

Betrayal. Cadance’s heart wept at the expression, but she needed to say it.

“Cadance, tell me what you’re trying to say. Are you saying I’m—what, that I’m not ready or something? To help somebody in need?”

“I’m saying that it doesn’t have to be you, Shiny.” She couldn’t stop. She couldn’t hold still. She wrapped him up in the biggest, tightest hug she could physically give and she knew he only reciprocated out of reflex but that didn’t matter because he had to know. “Shiny, I know you want to help—we both do, because that’s what’s right—but this can’t be healthy for you!”

Shining was mad. Cadance could feel it in his arms and beating against her chest. He was so upset.

“And what do you think will happen then, Cadance? I’ll get sick? I’ll get stressed?” He shook his head with a snort. “You think I won’t get worse knowing that I could’ve done the right thing and didn’t. Are you afraid you’ll lose me—?”

“Damn it, Shiny, I love you!” Cadance was crying now. Careful practice kept her voice steady, but those blasted tears—two weeks of tears inherited by Celestia, her students, the city, her husband—just didn’t have anywhere else to go but all over Shining’s jacket. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, okay?! You already have a dangerous job, I want our home to be a place you can rest, not...”

 “We can help her, Cadance.”

She tilted her head, just enough to meet Shining’s wet eyes.

“You’re the one who’s alive, Shiny.”

He didn’t even blink. 

“She’s alive, too.”

For a moment, all they could do was stare. 

Lines. Strokes. Split open flesh.

She knew that. Cadance was already well aware of that, but...

Damn it, how could one man be so stubborn. 

“We’re running out of time,” Shining sighed.

“Yeah.” Cadance stepped out of the embrace, mindlessly adjusting her clothes and hair. “She’ll already be here for a couple of days at least. We’ll talk as we go.”

“Right.”

She hated it when they got like that. So professional. So curt. 

Shining laid a hand on the doorknob. “Ready?”

Cadance sighed, shook her head, and nodded. “Let me at ’er.”

That drew a small smirk from that stoic face. “’Atta girl.” Shining opened the door.

Sunset hadn’t moved since Cadance last saw it. Curled on its side, wide eyes staring at the door.

Unblinking.

Unmoving.

In that instant, Cadance panicked. Was that a corpse? A true corpse? No. No no, Sunset couldn’t be dead again, right? Cadance began striding towards the couch.

Sunset’s eyes followed, and as Cadance dropped herself onto the couch, she heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Thank goodness,’ Cadance thought to herself with a mental snort, ‘she’s not dead again.’ Cadance took a limp hand in her own, meeting Sunset’s neutral gaze as best as she could. 

What could Sunset have been thinking? Did she hate her again? Was she just curious about what they talked about? No, Sunset had to have hated her. She begged and begged and Cadance didn’t listen, but Cadance couldn’t just let Shiny—

Later. They were going to talk about that later.

“So, Sunset.” Sunset didn’t respond. “How long were we out?”

Sunset didn’t respond.

“...Right.” Sunset hated her. For a just a moment, they connected, but Cadance ruined it. “Well, we’re back now. And, I think it’s about time for me to show you where you’ll be able to rest while you’re with us!”

Silence.

“Sunset, I’m sorry.” Cadance couldn’t fix this. “I never wanted to hurt you, but...” How could she turn back time? If somebody could turn back death, shouldn’t she be able to turn back time? “If things were different then I’d let you stay here as long as you needed, but—”

“It was me, Sunny.” Eyes wide, Cadance took in Shining’s form. Arms crossed, casual lean against the desk. Exactly as he always did when he was uncomfortable. “I saw your body when you... well, you know.” He scratched his chin. “I’ve been doing alright, but Cadance was worried that if you stuck around then... uh, well.” Shining coughed into his fist. “Well, I don’t know what she was worried about, but I think you get it. 

“Cadance meant the best, okay? She was just trying to look out for her fiancé.” 

Silence. Longer.

The cool hand gently squeezed Cadance’s hand back.

In.

“...H-hushband.” Out.

Though Sunny’s face didn’t change, both Cadance and Shining smiled.

“Whatever,” Shining snorted.

Lifting Sunset’s body upright, Cadance wrapped her arms around Sunset’s shoulders. “I’m really sorry, Sunset. I didn’t want to hurt you. Forgive me?”

Sunset remained still.

In. “Owe m-mmee?”

“Woah, hang on,” Shining stood straighter. “Don’t go guilting stuff out of my wife, you little troublemaker.”

“Shhh, I can take care of myself, Shiny.” With a playful rub of Sunset’s back, Cadance stage-whispered into Sunset’s hair. “Don’t listen to mean ole Shiny. You can guilt me for whatever you want. Okay?”

Cadance rocked gently side to side. Steady, soothing motion. Cadance would put in all the effort that she needed to get back that sense security that Sunset needed so badly.

Slowly, softly, tentative hands pressed against Cadance’s back, drawing Sunset further into her embrace.

“Warmm...” Out.

Cadance smiled a genuine smile, this time only slightly touched with discomfort. She had no idea what Sunset was feeling, but she held on to the belief that this was a step in the right direction. The guest room was rather bare, but it was still cozy and warm enough for their new guest’s stay, however long it was.

Cadance resolved to continue that conversation with Shining that night. For now, she would focus on the body—the girl in her arms. Sunset may not be able to stay forever, but Cadance would make sure she felt welcome.

Cadance chuckled, a small thought coming into her mind. Adult or child, dead or alive: everybody needs a warm place where they belong.

Everybody.