> In an Instant
>  by Ruirik
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> In an Instant
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Octavia wasn’t much of a city mare.  Not that she disliked the cities per se, after all the concert halls she performed in were almost always located in the center of a given city or town’s more cultured wards.  While the grey earth pony much preferred to do smaller venues like garden parties and rural ceremonies, the bulk of her pay always would come from playing at old formal concert halls with dozens of other talented musicians.  And since Octavia liked to be paid, she had to at least like parts of city life.

The densely populated urban sprawls worked like a bakers mixing bowl, forcibly combining ponies of all types and cultures into one unique blend of life.  The cellist couldn’t help but marvel at the various ways this natural synthesis created new styles of art, cuisine, music, and style. Unicorn culinary bases with pegasus flair: earth pony music given new form with unicorn bravura.  Even when the experiments failed, another pony would often latch on to the spirit of the idea and take it in a wholly new direction that in turn opened itself to a myriad of new possibilities.  The whole effect was simply wondrous to Octavia.

That said there were other things about the city she would never feel comfortable with:  the same densely packed population that sparked innovation, iteration, and exploration of the arts, sciences, and cultures also fed into old classism that dated to times long thought past.  The fortunate few sequestered themselves away in carefully maintained boroughs, each of which took great care in maintaining their segregation from the plebian masses.  

Far below them were hordes of ponies that had never caught their lucky break and instead spent their lives going day to day with few prospects for the future.  The crowded streets were littered with refuse casually discarded by all types of ponies in their daily travels.  The constant undulating throngs of moving bodies made Octavia feel claustrophobic on more then one occasion.  Then there was the noise, untold thousands of ponies talking over each other while construction crews worked day and night on project after project in a never-ending battle for modernization.

Yet for all she disliked about the cities personally, she had learned to find a certain charm in the madness thanks in no small part to her marefriend Vinyl Scratch.  The ivory-coated unicorn made her living in the city nightlife as a DJ.  In her scene, Vinyl was simply the best, bar none.  Her timing, her sense of rhythm, and her ability to read a crowd were nearly uncanny.  Like Octavia, Vinyl made her money in the cities.  Clubs paid far better than most private affairs did, the notable exception being a few weeks ago when Vinyl had been selected to DJ the wedding of Princess Cadence and Shining Armor.

Octavia had never been more proud of her marefriend than when she had received the job, and the cellist had nearly died of shock when only three days after the wedding.  Vinyl had taken Octavia out for a lovely dinner and a concert with a band they both enjoyed before the normally enthusiastic and headstrong unicorn had nervously knelt down and asked for Octavia’s hoof in marriage.  Octavia was slightly less proud that she had nearly suffocated Vinyl in a bone-crushing hug whilst enthusiastically shouting yes.  It was their impending union that had brought them to this district of Manehatten today. 

“So, where are Lyra and Bon Bon meeting us?” Vinyl asked as she kept pace beside her fiancé.  

“When I last spoke with Lyra, she said she had made reservations for us all at The White Rose for lunch, then we could see a show or spend the day shopping.” The earth pony smiled, happy for every moment spent with Vinyl.

“White Rose, huh?” Vinyl looked contemplative, at least to Octavia.  The purple tinted sunglasses that hid the DJ’s eyes from the world would deceive most ponies, but Octavia had almost two years of practice with reading the subtleties of Vinyl’s body language.  The little ways her ears would twitch when she was intently focused on something, the small quirks of her lips and the way she sucked her cheeks in when she was thinking things over.  Where most ponies saw Vinyl as an enigma, Octavia saw an open book.  

“That’s the really fancy place down the hill from the theater strip, right?” the unicorn tilted her head towards Octavia.

“Yes, it’s wonderful food, although,” the cellist blushed lightly “They can be a bit…expensive.”  She gasped lightly when Vinyl stopped her just long enough to gently kiss her between the eyes.

“Tavi, when it comes to you, there ain’t no price I won’t pay.  Now show me that smile!” Vinyl exclaimed with the largest grin she could physically muster.  Octavia laughed in spite of Vinyl’s linguistic butchering.

“Remind me to get you a grammar tutor for a wedding present.” Octavia teased playfully.  Vinyl giggled and kissed her fiancé’s nose before replying.

“Come on, let’s get some hustle in our trot, it looks like it’s gonna rain soon.”

Octavia nodded as she continued forward, albeit at a slightly faster pace.  A cursory glance up to the skies showed that the Manehatten weather teams were nearly done assembling the planned rain event for the day.  

Far above the city hundreds of Pegasi flew to and fro, placing clouds in a puzzle that covered Celestia’s great sky until it was nothing more than an ashy grey.  Stray patches of blue were dwindling away as the weather teams slowly worked towards their goal.  Octavia was glad she was an earth pony on days like this.  She couldn’t imagine just how many complaints the local weather crews received every time they had to cover an otherwise beautiful day with dismal cloud coverage.

“Did you tell Lyra the news?” Vinyl asked as they walked.

“Not yet, I thought we could do that together.” Octavia smiled shyly, a light flush on her cheeks.  Vinyl smiled.

“Sounds like fun.  I can’t wait to see their faces when we tell them!” Vinyl giggled.

“Be nice, dear.” Octavia grinned as she elbowed Vinyl’s ribs playfully, eliciting a melodramatic protest from the energetic mare.  Their walk continued relatively peacefully until they reached the intersection across from their destination.

The restaurant itself was situated at the bottom of a steep hill on the corner of a four-way intersection of roads.  The couple found themselves stalled at the crosswalk as a small convoy of stallions lugging construction carts moved up the hill.  To their right, situated under a large awning was a display board that was full of posters for local DJ’s and basement shows.  Vinyl Started towards it to get a better look, but she didn't get more than a step before Octavia called out to her, the street finally clear enough for them to cross.

Vinyl took her place astride Octavia, the white fur on her side briefly meshing with the grey fur of her lover’s.  She felt the tiniest of shivers run down Octavia’s body from the slight touch.  Octavia leaned closer to Vinyl just long enough to steal a tender nuzzle before their contact was dissolved.  The DJ would have been more disappointed if the droplets of cold rain that slowly began to fall from the greyed out sky had not absorbed her attention.  Quickly fleeing from the street, the pair took shelter under the burgundy cloth awning of the restaurant.  

“Well, shall we go see if they’re already inside?” Octavia smiled to Vinyl, a hint of anxiety catching Vinyl’s attention.  Vinyl made a small show of puffing out her chest and looking suave as she moved to the door and pulled it open with her magic.

“Madam.” She said in her most eloquent voice as she motioned Octavia inside.  Octavia giggled and kissed Vinyl on the cheek as she passed her.

“Such a gentlemare.” 

Vinyl grinned proudly as she followed Octavia in.  

The interior of The White Rose was what more refined ponies called intimate and less refined ponies, like Vinyl, called cramped.  The restaurant was roughly broken into two sections.  In the bar area benches and tables were expertly carved from fine rosewood that had been polished to a rich luster that accented the natural red.  Light from the candles that provided most of the illumination in the building cast a golden glow from nearly every wooden surface.  In the dining area each table was covered with a pristine white cloth while all the seating cushions were sewn from royal purple and trimmed by luxurious gold rope.  Vinyl estimated that the place could only sit approximately seventy-five ponies at a time, and fit perhaps another twenty-five to thirty in the large bar space that Vinyl was impressed with.  

Squinting behind her purple-tinted glasses, Vinyl grinned as she spotted Lyra waving at them from a booth on the far wall of the restaurant.  Motioning to Octavia the two made their way over to the waiting table with Lyra and Bon Bon.  

“Heya Lyra, Bonnie!” Vinyl grinned broadly as she took a seat across from the pastel green unicorn.  “How the hay have you two been?”

“Rockin’ and Rollin’ Scratch,” Lyra hoofbumped with Vinyl “How’ve you two been?”

Vinyl’s grin faltered slightly as she turned to her smirking fiancé.

“You wanna tell 'em, Tavi?” Vinyl asked, eliciting a sudden blush from the grey earth pony.

“Oh dear, is something wrong?” Bon Bon spoke up nervously, her brow furrowed in concern that mirrored the look on Lyra’s face.

“Hm? Oh! No, no, not at all actually!” Octavia shifted in her seat, nervously chewing her bottom lip until Vinyl’s reassuring arm wrapped around her shoulders.  She looked over at the smiling unicorn and returned the smile as she found her courage again.

“Vinyl and I are getting married.” She stated with a broad smile.  Lyra and Bon Bon both gasped before gleefully congratulating them.

“That is simply wonderful news, girls!” Bon Bon beamed.  Lyra clapped her front hooves together excitedly as she contained a squeal.

“You gotta tell me which one popped the question!” Lyra demanded keeping her voice barely hushed so as to not disturb the other customers.  “I’ll bet it was you, Octavia.  Scratch never could take a hint that was less subtle then a stampede.”

“Hey!” Vinyl pouted melodramatically.  Octavia stifled a giggle and gave Vinyl a kiss on the cheek.

“Actually, Vinyl proposed it to me.  It was very romantic.” Octavia leaned against her fiancé, taking an almost sadistic pleasure in the way Vinyl shivered and blushed from the contact.  She didn’t miss the unicorns very subtle promise of vengeance later.

“I’m very happy for you two,” Bon Bon said as she gave Lyra a sidelong hug with one arm.

The four mares paused their conversation long enough to place their orders with their waiter.  Octavia and Lyra discussed their music work while Bon Bon and Vinyl gossiped about city life.  The conversations barely slowed as their food arrived and lasted well after their plates were emptied and a young unicorn colt removed their dishes.  It wasn’t until their bill arrived that the conversation shifted.

“Say, I got an idea!” Vinyl beamed at her friends and fiancé.  “How about I go check out that show stand we passed and see what’s playing tonight, then after we walk around for a while and do some shopping we can catch a show or two and get some drinks to celebrate!”

“That sounds like fun to me.  How about you two?” Octavia looked to Lyra and Bon Bon.  The two exchanged a brief glance before smiling and nodding.

“That sounds great to me.”  Lyra said

“Yeah, we haven’t had a night out in a long time.” Bon Bon grinned brightly.

“Alright then Vinyl, we’ll meet you across the street at the stand as soon as we take care of the bill.” Octavia smiled and kissed the pale unicorn’s cheek.  Vinyl giggled and saluted playfully before she trotted out the doors.  Octavia put her and Vinyl’s share of the bill on the table as Lyra and Bon Bon each added their own stack of bits.  The waiter soon swooped by to collect their money with a smile and wishes for a pleasant day.

Lyra sipped at the last of her drink before the three stood to leave.  Their casual walk to the door was interrupted as the heavy door swung violently open, a light grey pegasus stallion rushing in.   His fur matted from the rain and his eyes wide. 

“Octavia?  Is there an Octavia in here?” he shouted frantically.  Octavia felt her heart skip a beat as she stepped forward.

“I’m Octavia,” she said. “Wha-“

“There’s been an accident.  Hurry!” he didn’t wait for a response and darted back outside.

Octavia’s eyes went wide as her world seemed to stall.  Her hooves moved of their own accord, pushing her through the door, Lyra and Bon Bon following close behind.  

“It’s okay…It’s okay…” she whispered to herself in a futile chant.  Her heart stopped as she got outside.  The pale pegasus who had come inside for her was standing at the edge of the sidewalk, looking back at Octavia uncomfortably.

Just over halfway across the road Vinyl lay crumpled on her left side, her cries of pain muffled by the cold rain.  Several feet away was one of the construction carts, now upturned on its side with its payload of tools and wood scattered about the street.  Octavia didn’t hear the pegasus as he took flight in search of help.  

“Vinyl!” Octavia shouted as she ran headlong across the street, skidding to a stop as she reached the unicorns side.  “It’s okay Vinyl!  It’s okay!” she sobbed as she took in the scene before her.  Vinyl’s trademark glasses were broken into several pieces around her and a large gash on her forehead flowed blood, freely, onto the street.  

“T-Tavi!  I c-can’t move!  Oh Celestia, I can’t move!” Vinyl cried.  Lyra skidded up beside Octavia, using her magic to press a handkerchief over the gushing wound.

“You’re gonna be okay, Scratch,” Lyra forced a smile as she kept the pressure on the wound. “Help is on the way.”

Vinyl’s eyes squeezed shut tightly as she gritted her teeth in pain.

“I don’t wanna die.” She wept.  Octavia immediately leaned over to kiss Vinyl’s forehead.

“You’re not going to die Vinyl, I promise.  Your going to be okay, we’ll be okay.  I love you Vinyl, everything will be alright!” She forced a smile, though her teary eyes betrayed her inner fear.

Bon Bon ran up to them along with the unicorn that had waited on them inside.  In his magical grasp were several folded tablecloths.  The cream coated earth pony did her best to smile reassuringly, though she couldn’t bring herself to speak.  The waiter lowered two of the tablecloths over Vinyl as makeshift blankets while he held the third aloft as a rain shield.  Bon Bon sat beside Lyra and took Vinyl’s limp hoof in her own, hoping to provide some small comfort.

Octavia barely noticed what happened around her as she focused entirely on Vinyl.  The blood from the gash had nearly overwhelmed Lyra’s handkerchief.  Vinyl’s crying had slowed from open sobs to quiet whimpers and gasps.  Her jaw trembled and the pained look on her face was slackening.  It terrified Octavia more then anything she had ever experienced in her life.

“Vinyl?  Vinyl, open your eyes.” Octavia pleaded as she stroked the crippled mare’s cheek.  “Please Vinyl?”

Vinyl complied, slowly forcing her ruby eyes open, red and puffy from crying.  She focused on the grey mare staring down at her with tear-streaked cheeks and pained eyes.  Vinyl wanted nothing more than to embrace Octavia, and her inability to even twitch a muscle brought a fresh wave of tears to her own eyes.

“Tavi…” Vinyl gasped for breath “I’m sorry Tavi…I’m so sorry.” She choked out between tired wheezes.  

“It’s not your fault Vinyl.  It’s going to be okay.” Octavia reassured her while trying to keep her own worries at bay.  Vinyl’s breathing was worrying her, as was the way that her words were starting to slur together. “Just keep talking to me Vinyl, we’ll get through this, I promise.”

Octavia, Lyra, and Bon Bon did their best to keep Vinyl talking, even as Vinyl’s speech gradually became slower and less cogent with every passing minute.  None of the mares felt much relief as a team of Pegasi landed beside them, pulling an enclosed chariot painted white as snow with a red cross on the side.  Out of the chariot sprang four unicorns, each bearing the white uniform of the Manehatten Emergency Response Corps.  

“Make some room please.” A brown stallion said as he took Octavia’s place, his blue-tinged magic taking over the compress on Vinyl’s forehead “Miss I will take over that, thank you.” Lyra nodded mutely as she stepped back.

“Please, I’m her Fiancé,” Octavia interjected as she moved slightly out of the way.  The stallion paused momentarily to look at her with an expression of genuine surprise.  

“Alright ma’am, what’s your name?”

“Octavia.”

“Alright Octavia, I need you to stay right where she can see you.  You can help keep her talking to us and fill in the missing information while we get her situated.” Octavia nodded as she took a position that was out of the EMT’s way, but still where Vinyl could watch her.

“Good afternoon young filly, I’m Salve.” The paramedic started, calmly, with a gentle smile “Can you tell me your name please?” 

“V-Vinyl.  Vinyl Scratch.” She answered quietly.

Octavia felt helpless as she watched the unicorns work, helpless as they loaded Vinyl into the ambulance, and helpless as she sat in the cramped cabin while they worked diligently on her love.  More then once she felt a lump forming in the back of her throat as the sting of tears threatened to escape her eyes.  Each time she forced it away.

‘I have no right to cry now.’ she thought, angry with herself ‘Vinyl needs me to be strong.  I won’t let her down.’

Numbness settled into her heart for the duration of the ride.  She didn’t have the slightest idea how long the flight had taken when they finally landed, nor when they escorted her to a private waiting room with only old magazines, a fake hibiscus plant designed to look as if it were eternally in bloom, and a cheap analogue clock mounted to the wall.  

Octavia tried to process what had happened, where everything had gone wrong.  Her mind flashed to thoughts of waking up, her first sight being Vinyl’s face, relaxed and peaceful in a deep sleep; her electric blue mane draped across her eyes and her muzzle open as the mare snored lightly.  

Octavia’s thoughts were cut short when the door creaked open.  Timidly, with their ears flat and their eyes red, Lyra and Bon Bon entered the room.  There were no words, no hollow platitudes as they approached Octavia.  The only sound came from the gentle clop of their steps across the worn tile floor.  

Lyra quietly sat to her right; Bon Bon sat to her left.  Together they wrapped her in a loving embrace.  None of them spoke; there was nothing to say.  Their loving warmth enveloped the grey mare.  Octavia felt her throat tighten while a comforting hoof gently rubbed her back.  Her vision blurred with unspent tears that pleaded for release and, finally, in the embrace of her friends her defenses crumbled to dust.  With a shudder and a choked sob all her emotions poured free of her soul.  

Time passed unnoticed by all three mares until a gentle knock on the door gave them all a startle.  An ochre-coated unicorn mare with emerald eyes and a straw blonde mane quietly made her way into the room, the mark adorning her flank depicted a caduceus set in front of a heart.  She smiled sympathetically at the distraught mares as she made her way over to them, a file held aloft beside her in a pale orange glow.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” she started softly.  She had a motherly quality to her voice, a sort of reassuring undertone that seemed almost magically crafted to put ponies at ease, irrespective of their individual plights. “I am Dr. Grace.  I work for the hospital’s Social Services Department.  If there’s anything you need while you wait I will get it for you, be it coffee or information.  Now, which one of you is Octavia?”

The cellist composed herself as best she could before she raised her hoof.

“I am, is Vinyl going to be alright?” she asked in a near pleading tone.  Grace smiled lightly and sat across from the three mares.

“Currently Vinyl is stable, the doctors were just finishing stitching and bandaging the wound on her head.  She is responsive and about as feisty as a mare can be after what she went through, which is good sign.” The unicorn explained calmly.  Octavia smiled a bit before a nagging thought returned her features to a nervous frown.

“But?” she asked, even as the prospect of an answer terrified her.  Grace offered her a small look of sympathy as she decided how to phrase the information.

“She is doing very well overall, but at the moment she is paralyzed from the neck down.”  Bon Bon and Lyra gasped, the former covering her mouth with her hoof, both mares stared in disbelief at the unicorn before them.  Octavia felt her world starting to crumble around her.  Her lavender eyes stared blankly at the ochre mare as she tried to process the information.  Grace continued to speak, but Octavia didn’t hear a word of it.  Voices reached her ears like faded sounds from a distant room, hollow and dull.  The hooves of her friends that minutes earlier had provided some semblance of comfort and succor now felt of nothing but weight on her shoulders.

“Wi…Will…” the words escaped Octavia’s throat in barely a whisper.  She cleared her throat and took a shaky breath in an attempt to relax.  Her jaw trembled as she blinked quickly in an attempt to control the moisture welling up again in her eyes.  “Will she get better?”

Grace considered the question carefully, her mouth opening slightly as she decided how to phrase things.  “Since Vinyl still has feeling in her extremities there is a good chance that she will walk again.  We’ll know more as things progress.”  She smiled and reached out with a reassuring hoof to Octavia’s shoulder. “I’m going to go see how she is.  I’ll be back in a few minutes, I promise.”

Octavia managed a nod.  It was all she could do at the moment.  The ochre mare smiled gently before she made her way out of the room.  As the door softly clicked shut, Octavia put her head in her hooves and wept.  Lyra spoke, but the words didn’t reach her.  How could they, really?  

After a time, Grace returned, gentle smile firmly affixed upon her face.  Octavia wiped her face dry on a tissue and managed to compose herself to at least an acceptable level.

“Ms. Octavia, if you’ll follow me.  She’s ready now.”  Octavia nodded as she shakily stood and walked to the door.

“Will we be able to see her too?” Bon Bon asked meekly.

“The Doctor would prefer only one visitor at a time for tonight.  As soon as Octavia is done I can take one of you back there, alright?” she offered an apologetic smile.

“Okay, thanks Ma’am.” Lyra replied before turning to Octavia “Take your time, Tavi.  We’ll wait here.” Octavia forced a small smile, nodding as she followed Grace out of the room.

The ochre unicorn led her down a dimly lit corridor, a large and bustling nurses station occupied the space to the left of them while the opposite wall was lined with rooms, each walled with shuttered glass.   Few seemed to have the lights on, yet the five ponies that occupied the nurses station moved at a clipped pace, most of them seemingly occupied with several conversations simultaneously.  Grace led her towards the end of the wing where she stopped outside of a darkened room.

“Here we are.” She said as she turned to face Octavia “One last thing before you go in:  Vinyl has a bit of a concussion, it’s minor and shouldn’t have any lasting effects, but for the time being it has made her a touch sensitive to light and sound for a while.  So just keep the lights down and your voice soft.  While you’re in there, I’ll go fetch the doctor so he can speak with you when you’re ready.  Okay?”

“Y-yes.” Octavia stuttered her ears folding back nervously “Thank you for all your help.”  Octavia gasped in surprise as Grace pulled her into a gentle hug. 

“It’s what I’m here for Miss,” she smiled again as she released the grey mare, “now go, she needs you.”

Grace departed quickly, leaving a nervous Octavia to stand, alone, outside the glass door.  She took a breath to steady her frayed nerves, before she pushed the door open and stepped inside.  The room was dim, the few lights that were on cast a candle-like glow about the room.  In the center of the room was the bed on which Vinyl rested.  

She was laid on her back, neck held in place by a white medical brace.  Wires connected her to various monitors and IV’s playing an out-of-tune melody.  A thick bandage was wrapped around her head, covering the gash that left her snowy fur tinted with blood.  Octavia’s heart felt like it was clamped in a vice as she took the sight in.  Quietly she approached the bed, sitting beside her love.

“Vinyl?” She began softly, the unicorn’s brow furrowed in discomfort momentarily before she opened her eyes.  A genuine smile crossed Octavia’s muzzle as she gazed into those ruby orbs.  

“Tavi…” Vinyl greeted, her voice soft and raw.

“I’m here Vinyl, it’s going to be alright now.” Octavia reached up with a hoof, carefully running it through Vinyl’s mane.  She made a note to ask Lyra and Bon Bon if they could make a stop to an optometrist and get a replacement pair of glasses for Vinyl.  The DJ was very nearsighted.  The unicorn managed a small smile before tears welled up in her eyes.

“Tavi…I-I’m so sorry.” She choked out “I’m so s-sorry Tavi. I-I ruined everything.” 

“W-what?  No, no, Vinyl.  It’s all right; none of this is your fault!  You did absolutely nothing wrong.  It was just an accident.  Just an accident.” Octavia did her best to hug the weeping mare.  “Everything will be alright.”

“Tavi…I…If you don’t want to marry me anymore…I’ll understand…” Octavia recoiled from Vinyl like the unicorn had caught fire and grown spines.  She stared at Vinyl, hoping she’d heard a sick joke, instead all she saw was the look of a broken mare.

“Vinyl…”

“Tavi, I can’t m-move,” Vinyl stated as the tears flowed down her cheeks.  “I can’t walk, I can’t DJ, I can’t even twitch my tail.”  She grit her teeth in frustration.  “I can’t ask you to suffer for me…I can’t do that to you…I can’t burden you like that…” She squeezed her eyes shut as her voice began to break “I can’t…” Vinyl’s words faded into broken sobs.  Octavia, in spite of the tears rolling down her own cheeks felt a smile forming on her lips and an almost uncontrollable urge to laugh.  She wiped the tears from Vinyl’s eyes. 

“Vinyl, listen to me,” she stated firmly, waiting for Vinyl to calm down enough to focus on her,  “I, Octavia Philharmonica, take you Vinyl Scratch, to be my wife.”  She leaned in so her forehead gently pressed up against Vinyl’s.  “To have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; till death do us part.”

Vinyl watched her with those ruby eyes, unblinking and full of fear and pain, but also love, pure and true.  Octavia smiled as she gently pressed her lips to Vinyl’s.

“I love you, Vinyl Scratch.  You could never burden me, and I’ll never leave you.”
> Aftershocks
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Were it possible, Octavia would have personally burned her prized cello if it meant she could have held Vinyl properly now.  As it stood however, the pale unicorn couldn’t so much as lift her head from her injuries as well as the heavy cervical collar that secured her in place.  The fur of Vinyl’s cheeks was matted from countless tears and her ruby eyes were puffy and swollen.  Her scent was lost in an unpleasant potpourri of disinfectant, blood, and bandages with a tang of the salty residue that accumulated in the fur of her cheeks.   Octavia was forced to settle for gingerly leaning over her marefriend to provide tender kisses and nuzzles, each offering small comfort to the lachrymose unicorn.

A gentle rapping on the door broke them out of their reverie, and as Octavia extracted herself from the awkward embrace, the door opened to an older unicorn stallion, his maroon fur and mane speckled with grey.  Hovering before him aloft in his magical grasp was a manila file folder and a set of x-rays.  His tired brown eyes took in the scene before him as he stepped into the room.   He offered no empty platitudes, no insincere smiles as he took up a position at the foot of the bed.

“Ms. Octavia I presume?” He looked to the grey mare; seeing her affirmative nod, he continued. “I’m Dr. Wight, I’m handling Vinyl’s case until we can get her admitted.”

The aging unicorn casually walked past the bed to a light box affixed to the wall.  His magic simultaneously attached three x-rays to the acrylic panel so Octavia could see them.  Levitating a pen from the pocket of his white jacket, he shifted his position so he was facing the mares.

“Ms. Scratch, you definitely won’t feel like it for a while, but you are one of the luckiest mares alive.” He began, pointing to the first x-ray that showed Vinyl’s neck.  “You have a couple of herniated discs in your neck and your spinal cord is definitely strained, but it seems to be fully intact.”

“Is that why she can’t move?” Octavia interjected, earning a mildly annoyed look from the doctor.

“Yes.  The trauma from the impact has swollen her spinal chord.  This swelling is what has caused the paralysis.  However, since you still have some feeling in all four limbs, then with some aggressive treatment and time the swelling will go down, and with a little luck, you’ll be able to move around again.”

“S-so I’ll be up and walking again in a couple weeks?” Vinyl asked hopefully.  Octavia started to smile, a smile that died as she noticed the Doctor’s stark expression.

“Vinyl…” he paused to mull over his words.  Octavia scarcely noticed her own hoof begin reassuringly stroking Vinyl’s hair. “There is a good chance that in two or three months you will regain a good portion of your motor control.  Beyond that, with physical therapy and the surgery we’ll need to do to repair those discs, then I would expect you will gain back sixty to seventy-five percent of your mobility.  I’m sorry, but chances are that you will require the use of leg braces or a walker.  We won’t know for certain for about a year.

“Why a year, what does that have to do with it?” Octavia snapped, her temper flared by her fear.  Vinyl had slipped back to despondence, a fresh wave of tears welling in her eyes.  Wight took the mild outburst in stride, decades of experience providing him with very thick skin.

“I’m sorry, but whatever functions do not recover in twelve months simply will not recover.  There’s nothing anyone can do about it.  Fortunately for you Vinyl, you’re a unicorn.  Your magic should be just fine, though we’re going to ask that you refrain from using it for a few days until your concussion is fully healed.”

“So…so what do I do now?” Vinyl’s voice quavered as she asked.

“Until the swelling goes down, all we can do is wait and keep you comfortable.  After that we’ll get you into an operating room and take care of those herniated discs, then if everything goes well you will be given a physical therapist who will get you moving again.” A flash of sympathy crossed Wight’s face.  Octavia glanced at Vinyl, the crippled mare having gone silent.  Her ruby eyes glistened with unshed tears, her anguished soul laid bare for all to see even as her face remained a mask of neutrality.

A delicate knock focused both Octavia and Wight’s attention to the door where Dr. Grace appeared with an apologetic smile.

“I’m very sorry to interrupt, but there’s an issue in room 14 that needs your attention Dr. Wight.”

“I see.  If you’ll excuse me ladies, Dr. Grace should be able to handle any follow-up questions you might have.”  He passed the files to the ochre mare as he slipped past her and out into the ER.  

“Would you like me to bring your friends back for a short visit?  They’ve been quite worried.” Grace offered.  Octavia looked to Vinyl for her opinion, her heart sank at the despair that permeated Vinyl’s gaze.

“That would be fine, thank you.” Octavia decided, hoping that perhaps Lyra or Bon Bon could help her cheer Vinyl up slightly.  Either way she could ask them to do a few favors for her; she had no plans to leave the hospital anytime soon.  

Grace nodded as she disappeared out of the room returning a few minutes later with Lyra and Bon Bon in tow.  Reluctantly, Octavia left the room allowing Bon Bon to have some time alone with Vinyl.  Grace disappeared into a separate room to tend to other patients, leaving Lyra and Octavia to talk in the relative privacy of the hall.  Lyra had brought both Vinyl and Octavia’s saddlebags with her from the restaurant, for which Octavia couldn’t thank her enough.  Away from Vinyl, Octavia allowed herself a moment of weakness.  With a heavy sigh she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.  Lyra wrapped a foreleg around her shoulders and lightly hugged her.

“If there’s anything you need, Bonnie and I will be here for you every step of the way, Tavi.” Lyra said quietly.  Octavia smiled slightly at the offer.

“Don’t suppose you have a time travel spell stowed away in that horn of yours?” Octavia asked with a smirk.  Lyra giggled and offered a shrug.

“Sorry, fresh out of those.”  Lyra grinned, Octavia chuckled lightly before her smile faded. 

“I’m going to have to resign from the symphony tour…and cancel the quartets and students I had scheduled this month…and…and…V-Vinyl’s shows will be cancelled too.  Oh gods Lyra…how are we going to pay for this?  I-I don’t know what to do!” she lamented, putting her face in her hooves.  Lyra’s heart broke for her friend.  A musician’s livelihood depended on their ability to play.  Vinyl’s career was effectively dead, possibly forever, which left the young couple with no real income other then what Octavia could earn.  However, Octavia would never willingly leave Vinyl’s side, not while the unicorn was very literally helpless to do a thing for herself.  Lyra held Octavia close, hooves gently rubbing the grey mares back.

“It’s gonna be alright Tavi.  I’ll go talk with Maestro Allegro as soon as I can.  He’s always been good to his musicians, I’m sure he’ll be able to think of something. “  Lyra’s voice quavered lightly.  She could only hope she wasn’t filling Octavia’s head with false hope.  The last thing the cellist needed was another rug pulled from underneath her hooves.  

Octavia managed a nod, unable to find her voice, even when an empathetic nurse silently offered her a box of tissues.  Lyra thanked the mare in Octavia’s stead as her friend wept quietly.  The green unicorn held Octavia close until Bon Bon emerged from the room, her own eyes teary as she stepped into the hall.  Lyra nodded to her lover and loosened her grip on Octavia, Bon Bon taking her place as Lyra quietly slipped into Vinyl’s room for a visit.  She bit back a nervous sigh as the door clicked shut behind her.   After taking a moment for her eyes to adjust to the room’s dim light, she approached the bed.  Her heart skipped a beat and her chest tightened uncomfortably as she took in the sight of her crippled friend.  Lyra hated hospitals, the chemically sterile smell, the hollow mechanical sounds often mixed with a cruel aria of equine suffering, the cold hard floors that made every hoof-fall sound like the approach of the reaper himself.  Lyra shivered and berated herself for reading too many horror novels. 

“Tavi?” Vinyl called out, an edge of fear in the back of her voice.  Lyra quickly sat herself close enough for Vinyl to see her.

“No such luck Scratch.  She’s just outside though, want me to bring her back in?”

“Lyra…I’m sorry…” Vinyl’s said tiredly “I ruined everything…again….”

Lyra smiled slightly as she shook her head.  It never ceased to amaze her how a pony that exuded as much confidence as Vinyl could be so self-deprecating.

“Vinyl, listen to me: this wasn’t your fault.  It was just bad luck, and you’re gonna pull through in the end, just like you always do.”  Lyra’s pale green magic grasped a tissue that she used to dab the tears away from Vinyl’s eyes.  “You’re gonna survive this.  Tavi, Bonnie, and I will be there for you every step of the way and the next thing you know you’ll be walking down that aisle in a silken gown to get married to the love of your life, and this will just be a bad memory.”  Vinyl managed a slight smile.

“As long as my magic works, then you’ll never get me in a dress.”

Lyra couldn’t help but laugh softly. 

“I’ll take that bet, Scratch.”

Lyra noticed the distant look in Vinyl’s eyes, the look of a pony struggling to star awake on the precipice of utter exhaustion.  With the most care she could manage, she hugged Vinyl before quietly slipping out of the room.  

Octavia, having calmed somewhat gave Bon Bon her spare apartment key as well as a small list of items that she hoped neither Lyra nor Bon Bon would mind bringing to the hospital tomorrow morning.  Neither did.  Octavia insisted that the other mares not spend their whole evening sitting in a waiting room until Vinyl was admitted, and after they left, she returned to Vinyl’s side in time to give the exhausted mare a goodnight kiss.  

Octavia made herself comfortable on one of the chairs provided in the room, eventually falling into a light sleep until a gentle nudging roused her.  Several nurses as well as Dr. Grace wheeled Vinyl’s bed out of the cramped room with Octavia in tow.  A short walk and elevator ride later; Vinyl was resting comfortably in a private room.  Grace had kindly taken the time to see that a small second mattress had been set up as well so Octavia could sleep.  For once, she was grateful that she didn’t dream.

The next day passed slowly for the grey mare.  With the exception of the occasional whimper, Vinyl had remained asleep since the previous night.  Octavia had worried over it initially, but the doctors had assured her that rest was the best possible thing for Vinyl’s body.  Every hour, a nurse would come in to the room to record the sleeping mare’s vitals and check the thick gauze wrap around her forehead. Lyra and Bon Bon, true to their promise, had returned in the morning with Octavia’s cello, some books, toiletries, and a small selection of Vinyl’s music for the unicorn to peruse when she woke up.  The two stayed with her for several hours before they left again, leaving Octavia to her lonely vigil.

Vinyl didn’t remember much.  She remembered having lunch with Lyra, Bon Bon, and her beloved Tavi, she remembered excusing herself from the table for a reason that had seemed important at the time, and after that she remembered only snippets.  She remembered feeling cold and wet in the rainy street, she remembered being terrified, and she remembered ponies talking to her.  Every memory stood isolated, like scenes from a movie with gaping black holes between them.  She remembered a bright room filled with strange ponies that poked and prodded at her and asked her questions, but she couldn’t remember what she said.  The last things she remembered had been her talk with Octavia, her offer to call off their wedding, and Octavia’s vows.  Then was the fuzzy memory of a doctor, Bon Bon, Lyra, and then sleep.

Her rest had been blissfully dreamless, her mind and body too tired to conjure any ethereal torment or escapism.  She had been dimly aware of voices around her, though she couldn’t make out what they said.  Then the pain started.  It had been distant at first, light the mildest itch that she couldn’t quite scratch.  From the darkness it methodically spread until her body felt like it was in flames.  The mattress she was laying on felt like it was made of glass shards, the blanket covering her body sent pain shooting through her, and every touch, poke, and prod felt like utter torture.  When Vinyl’s eyes finally snapped open to the blinding light of the waking world, she was surrounded by blurry ponies of all colors, all their eyes focused on her.

“Vinyl?  Vinyl can you hear me?” an unfamiliar voice called to her.  From further back, she heard a familiar feminine voice.

“What’s wrong with her?  Will she be okay?”

“T-tavi?” Vinyl called, her voice raw from disuse “Tavi, where are you!”  She tried to look around, but the collar around her neck kept her immobile.  A familiar grey shape forced it’s way into her line of sight, getting close enough that even Vinyl’s poor vision was able to see the blur for the pony it was; her Octavia.

“I’m here Vinyl, I’m right here.  It’s gonna be okay.” Octavia forced a smile as she petted the unicorn’s mane.  Vinyl’s eyes squeezed shut again as she bit back another cry of pain.  Octavia bit her lip and glanced across the bed to the doctor who was filling a syringe in his magical grasp.

“Vinyl, I’m Dr. Poultice, I’m going to give you some medicine to take the edge off your pain alright?” He explained calmly as he injected the fluid into her IV.  His eyes drifted to the clock on the wall where he counted down silently.  In less then a minute Vinyl’s face slackened at the slight reprieve.  

“Where…” she coughed dryly “Where am I?”  Her ruby eyes drifted sluggishly across the room. 

“You’re in Manehatten General Hospital, room 216 to be specific.” The doctor answered.  “You had us a little worried Vinyl, you’ve been sleeping for three days now.”

“Who stole my glasses?” Vinyl slurred as the morphine coursed through her system.  Octavia couldn’t resist a giggle as she slipped a new pair of non-tinted glasses onto Vinyl’s nose, bringing the DJ’s world back into focus.  Her ruby eyes blinked blearily as she got a good look at her room.  The walls were painted beige with a floral wallpaper trim along the ceiling.  The unicorn noticed her lover’s cello case propped against the wall, the polished black lacquer standing out rather starkly against the light walls.  

To her right was Octavia, looking markedly more disheveled than Vinyl was used to seeing.  Her unkempt mane and tired eyes led the DJ to guess she hadn’t left the room since Vinyl had been taken there.  To her left was a middle-aged unicorn; his fur was a midnight blue while his mane was a royal purple, though striped with gray hairs.  He wore the standard white physicians coat and had a stethoscope hanging around his neck.

“Your normal pair got destroyed Vinyl, I had Lyra get your spare set from home.” Octavia explained, her heart practically doing backflips to see Vinyl awake and talking again.

“Why does my body feel like it’s on fire?” Vinyl asked.  Dr. Poultice closed his eyes and reached out with his magic, the ethereal light gently enveloping Vinyl for a moment before it faded.

“Believe it or not, this is good news.  The swelling in your spine is starting to go down.  Unfortunately that’s also why you’re in so much pain.”  He paused to take a breath “What your experiencing is called neuropathic pain.  You see, Vinyl, your body took quite the shock in the accident, think of it like a power surge.  When your spinal cord was swollen, the signals from your brain couldn’t reach your limbs, and likewise the signals from your limbs couldn’t reach your brain.  Now that the block is clearing your nerves are overcompensating.”

“How long will it last?” Octavia asked worriedly.  Dr. Poultice rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“There’s no way to tell I’m afraid.  Some ponies recover in a day or two, in others it takes weeks, and some never fully recover.” 

Vinyl bit back a whimper.  She had always considered herself a tough pony, but she knew she wasn’t that tough.  “So can’t you just give me more of those drugs?”

“Vinyl, that was morphine.  Too much could kill you or do permanent damage to your body.” He stated flatly.

“What other options are there?” Octavia asked.  She fidgeted uncomfortably, every fiber of her body wanted to reach out and touch Vinyl.  The knowledge that her touch would only bring pain made her heart ache.  Dr. Poultice remained silent for a time, his mouth opening and closing several times as various ideas were considered and rejected.  With a slight sigh he looked Octavia in the eye, his own expression conveying unease at the solution he was about to propose.

“There is one other option I can think of, but I strongly recommend against it.”

“Let me…” Vinyl bit back a wave of pain “Let…me…hear it…” The stallion shuffled uncomfortably.  He shifted his gaze back to Octavia who reluctantly nodded.

“ We…uhm…” he cleared his throat in a last ditch effort to procrastinate “We could put you into a chemically induced coma.  You wouldn’t feel any pain, but there’s no guarantee we would be able to wake you up again.”

“Have you done this before?” Octavia asked quickly.

“I have not, personally.  However, the procedure has been done at this facility in the past, mostly on Pegasi that suffer fall accidents.  Most have come through just fine, but there are some who didn’t.”

“What happened to them?” Vinyl asked, her voice less confident now.

“Several remained comatose and were pulled from life support after it was determined they had suffered brain death, others experienced other forms of brain damage ranging from mild to severe.  It is my professional opinion that you do not pursue this course of treatment until you’ve given your body time to recover.” He stated flatly, Octavia’s hooves covered the horrified expression on her muzzle.

“I’ll give you two time to talk things over.  Excuse me.” He quietly shuffled out of the room.  The silence seemed deafening to both mares as each waited for the other to speak first.  The gentle ticking of the clock bore witness as the seconds passed to minutes until Octavia cracked first.

“Vinyl?” her voice was soft and brittle, betraying her fear of what the unicorn might say.  “You can’t seriously be considering that, right?”

“…Yeah…yeah I am.” She answered quietly.

“Vinyl, you can’t!  It’s too dangerous!” Octavia pleaded.

“Tavi…I…” the DJ whimpered at a particularly intense wave of pain. “Nnng…I…I don’t know if I can take this. “

“You can Vinyl, I know you can!” Octavia argued, her hoof automatically brushing Vinyl’s cheek only to recoil when the light contact elicited a hiss of pain.  Vinyl felt the familiar burn of tears starting to sting at her eyes again.

“I’m not that strong Octavia!” She cried “It’s bad enough that I can’t move!  I…I don’t think I can take this too…” She squeezed her eyes shut. 

“How do you think I feel, Vinyl?” her voice cracked as she shouted, her lavender eyes overcome with tears.  “The mare I love more than life itself is in pain, and I can’t even touch her without making it worse!  I would give anything to bear the pain for you.” She wiped her eyes on her foreleg  “I’m scared Vinyl, I’m so scared that if they put you under you’ll never wake up…and…and then I’ll be alone again…” 

Octavia sobbed into her hooves.  Vinyl silently begged Celestia, Luna, Discord, as well as any (and every) spirit or demon to give her the ability to move.  She would have sacrificed her horn itself to lift her foreleg to embrace her love.  Slowly Octavia composed herself, deep calming breaths slowly overcame the sobs until she was able to look Vinyl in the eye again, her lavender orbs puffy and shimmering.

“You’re my whole world, Vinyl...” She smiled sadly “I’m begging you, please don’t leave me alone.”

Vinyl blinked the tears from her eyes, again cursing her fate as a prisoner in her own body.  With a trembling sigh she made her decision.

“I-I’ll try Tavi…for you.”  She yielded softly.  Octavia smiled a little.  “Just do me one favor...”

“Anything, love.”

“Kiss me.”

Octavia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Vinyl, I can’t!  I…I don’t want to hurt you more.” Octavia recoiled slightly.

“Octavia,” Vinyl caught Octavia’s gaze, a grim determination in her ruby eyes “I don’t care how bad my body hurts.  Life without touching you isn’t worth living.”

“Vinyl…” Octavia whimpered, her heart torn over what to do.

“Tavi, any pain is worth it if it means I get to be closer to you…Please?”

Octavia sighed and nodded, unable to deny the unicorns desire.  Slowly she leaned down, her movements as slow and timid as their very first kiss so many years ago.  As her lips ghosted Vinyl’s she felt the familiar warmth of the unicorn’s breath wash over her muzzle.  She felt the subtle shiver in vinyl’s lips as they hovered millimeters apart.  Octavia barely noticed the longing whimper that escaped her throat before her lips met with Vinyl’s.  

For Vinyl, they had a twofold effect.  Emotionally it was full of the love and support that she had needed.  Physically though, the kiss was searing agony.  She squeezed her eyes shut as fresh tears formed.  Her nerves screamed at her to get away from the pain, and thought she did her best to resist; she could only delay the cry that escaped her.  Octavia reacted immediately, her mouth separating from Vinyl’s as she all but leapt away.

“Oh Gods, Vinyl!  Are you all right?  I’m so sorry!”

“T-Tavi…” Vinyl forced a smile over her pained features “It’s okay…really.”

“How is it okay, Vinyl?  I hurt you!” She cried, “I knew it would hurt you and like an idiot I still did it!” she berated herself.

“Tavi, it’s alright, really.” Vinyl assured “It was totally worth it.”

Octavia sighed, running a hoof through her hair tiredly.

“Of all the crazy mares, I just had to fall in love with you.”  

Vinyl chuckled softly before her smile faded.  “Hey, Tavi?”

“Yea?”

“I’m sorry.”

The earth pony blinked in confusion “What for?”

“For all this.  For making you cry.  I’m sorry.”

Again Octavia had to stop herself from reaching out to touch Vinyl.

“It’s alright Vinyl.  We’ll get through this, together.”  Octavia gave the unicorn her best smile.   Silence again settled over the two mares.  The grey earth pony’s lavender eyes watched every subtle twitch that Vinyl’s face made, mentally archiving every minute detail looking for something wrong.  She snapped from her reverie when Vinyl’s voice reached her ears.

“Tavi?” she whimpered.

“Yes Vinyl?”

“Could you take off my glasses?  They’re hurting too much.”  

Octavia frowned worriedly as she complied.  Vinyl sighed in slight relief as the light frames left her nose.

“I’m sorry I’m such a pain in your flank.” Vinyl said dejectedly.

“It’s no trouble, Vinyl.”  Octavia smiled gently.  Silence once again filled the room for a minute before Vinyl spoke again.

“Hey Tavi?”

“Hmm?”

“Do…Do you think you could you play for me, please?” 

Octavia recoiled slightly.  The times Vinyl had asked her to play were few and far between.  The request made her curious and concerned, but she pushed those thoughts aside for now.  If her love wanted to hear her play, then Celestia herself couldn’t stop her. 

“Of course, Vinyl.” She smiled as she retrieved her cello from its case.

Vinyl did her best to smile as Octavia checked her tuning and began to play a gentle waltz.  She would never be a fan of classical as a genre, but she did appreciate the skill and love that the earth pony put into her playing.  Vinyl focused on the music and let her mind drift away.  Away from the pain, away from her fear, to a place where it was just her and Octavia, waltzing. 

Octavia found her own mind wandering as she played.  She observed the world through half-lidded eyes, only peripherally aware of the goings on around her.  Nurses, doctors, and even some of the more mobile patients formed a small crowd just inside the door to listen.  The nursing staff tended to observe for only a couple of minutes each before they would wander off to attend to their responsibilities, sometimes returning for a moment here or there.  The patients and visitors that stopped would stay for a bit longer before heading off.  Octavia paid them little mind as she seamlessly transitioned from song to song, each movement and note demonstrating her unparalleled mastery of her instrument.  The only pony she paid any attention to was Vinyl.  

The last vestiges of daylight were fading beneath the horizon when Octavia finally put her cello away.  She hated to admit it, but playing had helped her relax much more then she thought it would.  She found herself wondering if that had been why Vinyl asked her to play in the first place.  Returning her attention to the pale unicorn, Octavia took note of the marked discomfort still etched across Vinyl’s features, however it seemed muted as the unicorn slept.    Octavia again had to force herself not to reach out and touch Vinyl, even to brush a few strands of electric blue hair from her eyes.  Octavia loosed a defeated sigh, taking her seat at Vinyl’s bedside.  She didn’t remain stagnant for long before her stomach growled loudly.  She flushed slightly from the noise and took a moment to consider how long it had been since she had gotten anything to eat or drink.  A day?  Two perhaps?  Her stomach growled again, earning an annoyed grumble from the earth pony.

“You can keep quiet,” she mumbled “Vinyl needs us more than the deli.”

Her stomach growled again in seeming defiance as Dr. Poultice trotted through the door, a clipboard magically suspended in front of his face with a pen marking down notes as he walked.  His ears perked almost immediately as he heard the sound.  Lowing his clipboard he cast an amused look at Octavia, who sheepishly waved to him.

“There’s a cafeteria downstairs that’s open twenty-four hours.” He informed her as he made his way to Vinyl’s bedside.

“I’m alright, really.” She said.  Poultice looked at her dubiously.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“Um…not too long ago?” she answered quietly.

“Was it today?” he questioned.  She shook her head side to side in embarrassment.  “Yesterday?” his golden eyes narrowed slightly.

“Um…yes?  Maybe…probably…I think…” she rubbed her hooves together, suddenly feeling like a filly who forgot her homework.  Poultice sighed even as he updated his notes on Vinyl’s condition.

“Octavia, you need to eat and rest.”

“I’m fine!” She growled, keeping her voice quiet enough not to wake Vinyl.  “Vinyl needs me here.”

“Vinyl needs you to be healthy.” He stated pointedly.  “I’ve seen good-hearted mares and stallions like you before Octavia.  They all sit there thinking that if they leave even for a second, then the ponies they love will die.  But it doesn’t work like that.”  

Octavia averted her eyes from the stallion.  Even though his tone was gentle and his words were kindly it didn’t take out the sting of his honesty.  

“What will happen if you keep on this path,” he continued “is that in a day or two either myself or one of the nurses will come in here, find you passed out on the floor, then we have to admit you as well.  And as I’m sure you can tell,” he waved a hoof to the room around him “These rooms are not built for two.  Not to mention how Vinyl would feel if something happened to you.”

Octavia blinked away the tears that burned away at her vision.

“But…but who will stay with her while I’m not here?  What happens if something goes wrong?” she asked worriedly.  Poultice offered her a sympathetic smile.

“I promise you, I’ll make sure she isn’t left alone while you get something to eat.” He smiled kindly.  Octavia cast one last look to Vinyl’s sleeping form before she reluctantly vacated her seat and retrieved her saddlebags from the corner she had left them.  She forced herself not to look back as she left, lest she change her mind.

With a brisk trot she made her way downstairs to the cafeteria.  To her mild surprise there were nearly twenty other ponies there, some eating, others sipping quietly at tea or coffee.  Octavia took a moment to read the simple menu that was written on a sandwich board in front of the order counter.  Several minutes and a few bits later she was sat at a corner table, eagerly devouring a large salad with several bags of oats stuffed into her saddlebags for snacks later.  After cleaning her plate and finishing her tea, Octavia quickly trotted back up to Vinyl’s room.  True to his word, Dr. Poultice was still there.  He smiled and nodded to her as he prepared a syringe.

“I’m giving her another dose of morphine.” He explained in response to the questioning look she gave him “With a bit of luck it will grant her a good nights sleep and, Celestia willing, her nerve pain will start to sort itself out tomorrow.”

Octavia nodded, retaking her position at Vinyl’s side. 

“You should get some rest too.” He stated as he slowly injected the morphine into the IV. “This will be a marathon, not a sprint.  Not just for Vinyl, but you as well.”

Octavia didn’t reply as she mulled the analogy over.  The doctor tossed the empty syringe into a sealed biohazard bin and marked down a note on Vinyl’s chart, specifying the time he gave her the dose, before he left the room and closed the door behind him.  

Octavia sat in silence for a while, simply staring out into space.  With a sigh and a shake of her head to snap herself back to reality.  She glanced to the clock on the wall, reading the time at nearly half past eight.  Slipping quietly out of the chair, she turned off the main lights and retrieved one of the books Lyra and Bon Bon had brought her.  She hopped onto the small bed provided to her and read until she drifted off to sleep and dream.

She was running.  Away or toward, she couldn’t tell.  Rain poured down over her as she ran into the void. 

“…Vi…” a voice echoed around her.

The faster she tried to run, the slower she felt.

“Tav…” it called again.  

She tried to call back to it, but no sound came from her lips.

“Tavi!” Vinyl’s voice rang out through the rain.  

Far in front of her, the pale unicorn appeared, blood pouring down her face from the large gash in her forehead.  Her ruby eyes overwhelmed with tears.  She reached out with a hoof.

“Tavi, help me!” she pleaded as she faded into the darkness. “I don’t wanna die, Tavi!  Help me!  Why won’t you help me!” she begged as the darkness consumed her.

“Vinyl!” She shouted as she leapt out of bed, her eyes wide and her heart racing.  She gasped for air like she had just sprinted from Canterlot to Las Pegasus and back again.  Looking over she could see Vinyl, unmoved and alive, the gentle beeps of the monitors connected to her body providing proof.  Octavia slowly got to her feet, her legs trembling unsteadily under her weight.  Carefully she made her way back to Vinyl’s bedside.  The clock on the wall read nearly two forty-five in the morning.  She focused on Vinyl’s face as she forced herself to calm down.  Vinyl’s face was tense even as she slept; each breath she drew was taken through clenched teeth.  

Octavia flinched, images flashing in her mind of Vinyl no longer drawing that breath, her face relaxed in the pale pony’s cold embrace.  The cellist pressed her hooves to her temples and desperately shook the images free, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.  She wanted to crawl into the bed and hold Vinyl close, tell the unicorn all that she all she meant to her, and never let her go.  But she couldn’t, and no pony could tell her how long it would be until she could.  Octavia caught herself reaching out to Vinyl again, and with a growl of frustration she pulled her hoof back.  Silence began to fill the room again until Octavia began to sing gently.


“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are grey.
You never know dear how much I love you
Please don’t take my sunshine away.”


> Ripples
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lyra bit back a sigh as she glanced at the clock, 4:56 am.  Scowling at the device for having the temerity to point out the simple chronological fact, she turned her head back to face the ceiling.  Lyra wasn’t used to insomnia.  Then again, she wasn’t used to having nightmares either.  Sure when she had been a young filly she had the occasional night terror that sent her scrambling into her parents room where she would hide between them until the safety of dawn.  Like all ponies she had grown out of them as she aged.  There had been a time, right around when she started noticing her attraction to other mares instead of stallions, that she had a few bad dreams.  Fueled by fears of being ostracized from her friends and family, some of those nightmares had proven prophetic when she eventually came out.  

Her father had taken years to come around and she had lost many ponies she had thought were friends.  Even still, she was closer to the friends she had now than she had been to those ponies.  Her father had eventually come around and considered Bon Bon his second daughter, though Lyra suspected that candy bribery may have been involved in that decision.  She had made new friends too, ponies she had grown to consider sisters in bond if not blood.  Vinyl was one of those ponies.  Always there when Lyra needed help.   All in all, her life was infinitely better than those dark days.

Nevertheless, even all these years later, she found herself staring blankly at the ceiling again with her heart racing, tears in her eyes, and her fur matted with sweat.  She slowly drew in a deep breath, holding it in her lungs for several seconds before she exhaled at an equally gradual pace.  She lifted her hooves to her ears as she tried in vain to block the screams that echoed through her dream.  Every time she closed her eyes, she heard Vinyl screaming in pain and terror.

Beside her slept Bon Bon, the cream-colored mare resting peacefully enough to warrant the unicorn’s jealousy.  Lyra turned her head from the ceiling to stare at Bon Bon.  The earth pony’s back was facing her, her two-tone hair contrasting brightly with the pale blue sheets on their bed.  Lyra’s golden eyes shifted from her lover’s mane to her back, watching the slow rise and fall of the mare’s chest as she slept.  Rolling to her side, Lyra carefully slipped her hooves around Bon Bon’s body and pulled her close.  She buried her snout into the back of the earth pony’s neck, inhaling the subtle sweet scent of her lover’s fur.  Lyra squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth in an attempt to keep her emotions at bay.  It wasn’t long until her breaths hitched and a gentle cry escaped her throat.

Bon Bon wasn’t the heaviest sleeper in the world; even still it wasn’t long until she became aware of something different that roused her from her sleep.  Blearily opening her eyes she quickly became aware of several things.  First were the mint green limbs wrapped around her waist, second was the warm of another pony pressed against her back, and third was the damp sensation on the back of her neck.  What snapped Bon Bon firmly back into to the waking world, however, was the gentle crying.

“Lyra?  Lyra, are you okay, what’s wrong?” she asked as she shifted her position, the effort only making the unicorn squeeze her tighter.

She grunted and with a bit of effort managed to roll over so she was face to face with her lover.  Even in the dim light of their room, Bon Bon could see the glints of light reflecting from tiny rivulets of moisture accumulated in the fur of Lyra’s cheeks.  Bon Bon gingerly took Lyra’s cheeks in her hooves and tilted her head up so their eyes met. 

“Lyra, honey, what’s wrong?  Why are you crying?” she asked again, her voice laden with concern.

“B-bon…” the mint green unicorn sniffled “I’m sorry…I-I just” she choked on her words as emotion overwhelmed her.  The cream colored mare pulled the unicorn close, hooves running lovingly over her back.

“It’s okay Lyra, you can talk to me.” Bon Bon tried to smile even as Lyra shook her head side to side.

“No…no….Y-you’ll think I’m terrible.”  She whimpered.

“Lyra Heartstrings,” Bon Bon stated firmly enough to get the unicorns attention “I love you and there isn’t a thing in the world that can change that.  We can handle anything life throws at us, but you need to talk to me okay?” she smiled lovingly at her partner.  Lyra contemplated things for a while, her ears folded and her only sound quiet sniffles.  

“Promise…Promise you won’t hate me?” She asked nervously.  Bon Bon kissed her forehead, just under her horn and nodded.  

“I could never hate you, Lyra.”

Lyra steadied herself with a breath before she spoke.

“I-I’ve been having nightmares the last few nights…” she bit her bottom lip uncomfortably.  “I keep hearing Vinyl screaming and…and…” Lyra let out a sob, a hoof running through her hair as she shook her head. “And then instead of Vinyl laying there and bleeding I see you there!  And I wake up and think of how glad I am it was Vinyl instead of you!” Lyra broke into full sobs even as Bon Bon recoiled slightly.

“L-Lyra-“ She started.

“S-she’s my best friend Bon…” Lyra managed between sobs “She’s my best friend and all I can think of is how grateful I am that it was her and not you!  What kind of pony does that?”

The cream coated mare found the inspirational words she had been thinking moments earlier vanish into the ether.  The inconsolable unicorn wept into her chest.  Lyra’s body shook heavily with each sob; Bon Bon found herself at a loss for what to do.  

“I-“ Lyra hiccupped “I just don’t know what I w-would’ve done if…if it had been you, Bon.  I-I can’t…I couldn’t l-live without you Bon.” her words fell away under renewed sobs.  Bon Bon held Lyra close, taking care not to get jabbed too much by the unicorn’s horn.

“It’s gonna be alright Lyra, I’m here for you.  I’ll always be here for you.” She cooed.  “They’re just bad dreams hon; everything’s gonna be fine.” Lyra nodded weakly in her lover’s embrace.  Bon Bon hummed softly to Lyra, the unicorn’s quiet sniffles providing harmony to the earth pony’s melody.   By the time that the first luminous rays of dawn appeared above the horizon, Lyra had fallen into a fragile sleep, her head nestled into the fur of Bon Bon’s chest where she could hear the confectioner’s strong heartbeat. 

When Lyra awoke, she found herself alone in bed, only the mussed sheets and pillows remaining as evidence of Bon Bon’s presence.  Lyra ran her hoof over the cool sheets where her love had been.  A wave of sadness swept over the green mare as she thought of the day she might wake up old, grey, and widowed.  She wasn’t sure if she could handle that, and she had no desire to find out.  With a grunt, she lifted herself out of bed; wiping her eyes as she took note of the time, 9:23 am.  With a yawn, she half stumbled her way into the shower, hoping to wash away her melancholic mood in a scalding rain.  

Twenty minutes and mixed success later the still damp unicorn trotted out to the kitchen where she found Bon Bon, standing on her hind legs as she made pancakes for two.  The earth pony sang quietly to herself as she cooked.


“Take a melody 
Simple as can be 
Give it some words 
And sweet harmony 

Raise your voices 
All day long now 
Love grows strong now 
Sing a melody of love, oh love.”


She hummed the verse quietly as she poured another round of batter into the pan, oblivious to the entranced unicorn standing behind her.  Lyra always loved to hear Bon Bon sing, even though the earth pony thought of herself as a terrible singer, Lyra found her voice had a motherly quality to it.  Every note reminded her of being a little filly cradled in her mother’s forelegs while being gently rocked to sleep to the dulcet tones of a lullaby.  

Lyra smiled as she watched Bon Bon start a new verse, her hips swaying lightly in rhythm.  The unicorn couldn’t resist a grin as she approached her love, taking care with each step not to alert the cream coated mare.  Once she was close enough she lifted herself onto her hind legs, wrapping her forelegs around Bon Bon’s waist and nuzzling her head into the crook of the earth pony’s shoulder.  Bon Bon squeaked in surprise, her body jumping slightly before she quickly settled with a giggle.

“You really do have a beautiful voice, Bon.” She said quietly, the compliment was met with a slight blush from the confectioner.

“Morning sleepy head.” Bon Bon smiled, nuzzling lightly as she tended to the pancake. “Feeling better now?  More Rested?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Lyra smiled, inhaling her lover’s scent deeply.  “Sorry I woke you up last night.”

“It’s fine, Lyra.  I’m here for you just like you’ve been there for me.”  Bon Bon smiled back to the unicorn.  Lyra closed her eyes and sighed contentedly, nuzzling along Bon Bon’s neck.

“I love you Bon.” She said softly.

“I love you too Lyra.” Bon Bon replied, her tail brushing Lyra’s leg.  The unicorn continued to nuzzle gentle along Bon Bon’s neck, her forelegs reinforcing their grip on the earth pony’s waist.

“I could do this forever.” She whispered contentedly earning a giggle from Bon Bon.

“Well if you want any pancakes then you’ll have to let me go hon,” The earth mare smiled.  Lyra pouted playfully, gently kissing her lovers cheek and giving her waist another light squeeze before she released her grip and dropped back to all fours.  She waited until the last pancake was finished before she took the platter full of the breakfast bounty in her magic and carried it to the table for Bon Bon.

“I could’ve gotten it, Lyra.” She protested.

“It’s no trouble Bon, you cooked it all yourself, the least I can do is take it to the table.” 

Bon Bon smiled, shaking her head lightly as she took her seat at the table.  The two ate in silence for a time before Bon Bon spoke up.

“Are you meeting with the orchestra today?”  The question made Lyra paused mid-chew.  She took a moment to think before swallowing and answering.

“Yea.  We had rehearsal scheduled at 1:00, but Maestro Allegro gets there usually by 11:00 to do prep work.  I figured I’d head over there then to talk to him about Octavia’s situation.  Maybe there’s something he can do to help.”  Lyra poked at her half-eaten pancakes.  Bon Bon noticed the downcast look growing on the unicorns face.  She furrowed her brow in concern.

“What’s wrong, Lyra?  You look worried.” 

“I don’t know Bon.  I guess…I guess I’m just afraid of what he might say.”

“You think he won’t help?”

“No…No, I think he’ll do his best.  But this is different than when I had food poisoning and had to take that month off to recover or the time that the piano player’s wife had a foal.  It’s just uncharted territory for all of us.”

Bon Bon nodded, taking another bite of her own breakfast.

“What about Vinyl’s manager?  Should we get a hold of her too?”  Bon Bon asked.  Lyra’s eyes went wide, her magic faltering long enough that her fork clattered loudly onto her plate.

“Oh ponyfeathers…” she whispered.

“What?  What’s wrong?” The earth mare asked, worry creeping into her voice.  Lyra facehoofed and groaned.

“I’m an idiot!” she bemoaned.  “I completely forgot to talk to Vinyl’s manger the other day.  She has no idea what’s going on!  She probably thinks Vinyl just blew off her shows the last couple nights!”

Bon Bon processed the new information slowly, her blue eyes growing steadily wider as realization dawned on her.  She forced an optimistic smile.

“She should be reasonable right?  I mean, it’s not like Vinyl isn’t playing on purpose.” Bon Bon said.  Lyra put her head in her hooves.

“I don’t know Bon, I just don’t know.” She sighed “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” She growled, smacking her temple to accentuate each word.

“Lyra,” Bon Bon reached over, her hoof resting on her partner’s cheek “Its not your fault.  I didn’t even think about it either.  We’ll take care of it, okay?”  Lyra nodded slightly.

“After all: What’s the worst that could happen?” Bon Bon asked.  Lyra stared at Bon Bon incredulously.

“I’m just gonna pretend I never heard that.” She answered as she facehoofed for the second time that morning.

“Would you like me to go talk to Vinyl’s manager?  That would give you time to practice what you want to say to Allegro.” Bon Bon offered.  

Lyra thought it over for a moment.  Part of her wanted to say no, after all; she was the musician.  She understood how the culture worked.  But realistically there was no reason Bon Bon couldn’t go.  The townhouse they were living in now was simply a rental while Lyra was performing with the symphony for the month.  Bon Bon’s shop was back in Ponyville, closed while she was on vacation in Manehatten.  The confectioner had brought some stock samples to give to local shops for possible wholesaler work, but aside from that she had simply been enjoying the city life with Lyra.

“Sure, if you want to.  I just feel bad letting you deal with that alone.” Lyra answered.  Bon Bon just smiled.

“Lyra, my love, I may not be a musician, but I am a businessmare.   Surely I can come to a mutually beneficial agreement with her.” The earth pony smiled, Lyra held up her hooves in surrender.

“Okay, okay, she’s all yours boss.  I’ll write down the address before I leave.”  Lyra conceded.

The two finished their breakfast in comfortable silence.  Lyra, against the protests of Bon Bon, took care of the cleanup.  After taking care of things in the kitchen, the musician wrote down the address of the club Vinyl had been contracted to play at as well as the name of the manager for Bon Bon.  The two shared a long hug before Lyra left for the performance hall and Bon Bon left for the club.  Both mares became a bit paranoid when it came to crossing the streets.  

Lyra’s walk to the performance hall took the better part of an hour.  She didn’t bring her personal lyre as the parts she had been hired to play were for a full sized harp as well as more exotic lyres that she didn’t have the bits to buy for her own collection.  The hall itself was a monument to the city’s elite, an exercise in their excess.  Constructed from the whitest marble and adorned with fine sculptures, the building stood out in stark comparison to the common brick surrounding it.  Lavish red satin banners trimmed with golden silk hung from the walls, each embroidered with subtle tapestries that made Lyra’s eyes hurt to look at for too long.  

She paused outside of the heavy oaken doors and steeled herself with a deep breath.  She still had no idea what she would say to Allegro, much less any musicians who asked.  With a sigh she threw caution to the wind and stepped inside.  The interior of the performance hall was no less ornate.  Rosewood floors installed in elaborate parquet patterns, which were inlaid with granite tiles were flanked by rosewood walls lined with famous paintings, sculptures, and rare tapestries.  The vaulted ceiling was painted with elaborate murals detailing the history of Equestria from the days of the three tribes to modern times, stopping long before the redemption of Nightmare Moon.  The omission wasn’t meant as a slight to the younger Princess, it was simply a factor of timing.  The concert hall had been built over fifty years before Luna had returned to the world.  Lyra had heard talk of proposals to amend the mural to add her redemption, but that problem was above her pay grade.

She paid fairly little mind to the opulence around her as she made her way to the stage area.  She wasn’t surprised that there were other musicians there, though she was surprised at how many had arrived so early.  Nearly half the symphony was in attendance, mostly the string and brass sections.  Lyra recognized a few of them who, like her, worked as musical freelancers; taking jobs wherever they could get them for any size show.  She even considered a couple of them, the pianist Largo, Beauty Brass the sousaphone player, and Concerto the first chair violinist to be good friends.  For once she was glad all three were too preoccupied with their instruments to notice her slip backstage to where Allegro’s office was.  More members of the orchestra were backstage, most engaged in quiet conversations with each other, others stringing instruments or marking their sheet music with annotations.  Lyra easily ignored them all, quickly making her way to the office door where she announced her presence with a gentle knock.  Allegro’s muffled voice quickly answered.

“Come in!” he called.  Lyra gulped nervously before she pushed the door open.  Allegro sat behind his desk feverishly looking over various papers.  He was an older lanky unicorn with a sandy brown coat and light grey mane.  His sharp blue eyes regarded Lyra over the glasses balanced on his snout.

“Ah, Lyra!  I was hoping to see you today.” He said with a smile, catching the mare off guard.

“You were?” she asked suddenly feeling nervous.

“Yes, Yes.  You’re friends with Ms. Philharmonica right?” Lyra nodded and opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off by the aging stallion “Good, Good!  Have you seen her at all lately?  She missed the meeting of the Principle players yesterday, and none of them know where she is.”

“I’m actually here about that sir,” Lyra started, nervously rubbing her hooves together. “There…there was an accident a few days ago, I don’t know if it made the papers or not, but her fiancé was in an accident.”

“Oh my goodness, is he alright?” Allegro’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“No, no, she’s-”

“She?  So Octavia was injured?” The old stallion looked confused.  Lyra barely suppressed the urge to facehoof.

“No sir, Octavia’s fiancé is a mare.” Lyra explained.  Allegro stared at her blankly for a moment, his expression somewhere between ‘kinky’ and horrified.

“Huh,” he clucked.  “I never figured her for a fill-eerrr” he noticed the look on Lyra’s face, and quickly corrected his language. “Ahem, who am I to judge!”  He grinned nervously.  Lyra relaxed slightly, she despised that slur.

“Continue, please.” He encouraged.

“Octavia is at the hospital with Vinyl, that’s her fiancé’s name.  When I visited them a couple of days ago Vinyl was paralyzed from the neck down.” Lyra shivered as memories of her nightmares teased her from the depths of her mind.  Concern spread over Allegro’s face though he remained quiet.  “Octavia doesn’t know what to do sir.  She can’t leave Vinyl, but she won’t be able to afford the medical care without work.  We were hoping that you might have some ideas.”

Allegro took a deep breath, rubbing his chin with a hoof as he considered the information.

“Vinyl…Vinyl…” he muttered.  “You wouldn’t be talking about that DJ right?  What’s her last name?”

“Uh, Scratch.  Vinyl Scratch.” Lyra blinked in confusion “You’ve heard of her?”

“My daughter is a very big fan, she was very upset that Vinyl was a no-show a last night.  I guess I know why now.” He sighed, rubbing a hoof against his temple.  Silence filled the room again, increasingly agitating Lyra until she felt compelled to say something.

"So, um, is there anything you can do to help Octavia?”

“Well if she can’t play with the symphony then I can probably find her some more flexible work in quartets, but that won’t help if she won’t leave the hospital.  I don’t want to hire a replacement first chair cellist if I can avoid it, mostly because Octavia is the best cellist in the city.” He hummed quietly as he thought things through.  After a minute of silence he smiled “Alright, I have an idea.  Lyra, do you think Octavia would mind if I paid her a visit and discussed her situation face-to-face?”

“I’ll talk to her about it tonight, I don’t think she’d mind though.”  She answered honestly.

“Bravo, bravo.  Now then, come with me.”  He grinned as he hopped out of his chair and trotted out of his office.

“All musicians to the stage please!  All musicians to the stage!” he called, his baritone voice carrying through the hall.  Lyra allowed herself a hopeful smile.  If Bon Bon was having half the luck she was then perhaps they could give Vinyl something to smile about when they visited later.

Across the city Bon Bon found herself sitting at the bar inside Vinyl’s current contract, a modern club called The Watering Hole.  The exterior was modern brickwork, if otherwise unremarkable.  The bar she found herself waiting at was set on the far side of the room.  The dance floor took up most of the floor space with a raised stage at the front of the building for the performers.  Several ponies were busy setting up a sound system for whatever entertainment was scheduled for tonight.  Bon Bon idly wondered if Vinyl had any of her gear hiding backstage.  The DJ was famously obsessive with her equipment, often providing all of her own gear to whatever gig she had.  She cared for her equipment the way most ponies cared for their foals.  

The confectioner sighed and took another sip of her water.  She had been waiting for nearly forty minutes since she’d arrived to meet with the manager.  Supposedly the mare in question had been out to lunch when Bon Bon had arrived, Bon Bon’s more cynical side doubted that story more and more with each passing minute.  Finally one of the bouncers pointed her upstairs to a small office labeled ‘Dawn Chaser – Owner’.  Bon Bon knocked twice, not waiting for a response before she pushed the door open.  Inside a yellow earth pony mare with a green mane and brown eyes shot her an annoyed glare that Bon Bon returned with a smile.  

“Well you’re obviously not Vinyl, so I’m assuming you’re here to tell me why that no good cheat took her deposit and left my club hanging the last couple nights with my plot in the air.” She deadpanned.  Bon Bon found herself taken aback by the other mare’s tone.

“I’m Bon Bon, I’m a friend of Vinyl’s. Sh-“

“Good for you; have a cookie.” Dawn interrupted with a roll of her eyes. “Get to the point, some of us have a business to run.”  Bon Bon’s eye twitched.  

‘Happy thoughts,’ she thought ‘haaaaappy thoughts.’

“Vinyl was in an accident several days ago.  She’s in the hospital an-“

“So she didn’t cut and run good to know.  When will she be working again?” Dawn interrupted again.

“Not for a while I think, bu-”

“Fine, tell her that her contract here is terminated and I’m keeping her gear as collateral until I get the deposit returned.  She’s got 30 days before she keeps the money and I keep the gear.”

“What?  You have got to be kidding me, you can’t do that!” Bon Bon yelled.  The yellow mare stared at her in annoyance.  “I’ve seen Vinyl’s gear before, it’s worth thousands of bits!  There’s no way your deposit is of equal value!” she fumed.

“No it isn’t,” The mare explained “But the advertising I paid for her shows, the revanue I lost in business from her no shows, plus the expense I incurred hiring a replacement DJ on short notice, and let’s not even mention the damage to my reputation for having talent like that no-show on me.  Frankly I’m letting Vinyl get away with highway robbery here.” Dawn explained calmly.

Bon Bon forced herself not to leap over the table to throttle the other mare.

“I want a copy of Vinyl’s contract.  Now.”

“Contracts between the club and the talent are strictly confidential.”

“That wasn’t a request.” Bon Bon growled.

“It’s nice to want things isn’t it.”  She deadpanned “If Vinyl wants a copy of her contract she can come in and get it herself.”

“She’s paralyzed, how in the world is she supposed to do that?” Bon Bon yelled in exasperation.  Dawn Chaser looked slightly taken aback by the revelation before her scowl returned.

“Well, that’s Vinyl’s problem not mine.  This is a business, not a charity.  Either she gets me back the deposit of 2000 bits or I keep her gear.  Either way we’re even and done.”

“You!” Bon Bon growled, “You are just horrible!  Vinyl may be crippled for life and all you can think of is your precious money?”

“Yea; I’m a horrible, heartless, cruel pony.  Guess what filly; it’s thanks to me that 30 hard-working ponies have good jobs with steady hours, full benefits, and the best pay in the city by far.  I pay my employees and my talent top-bit for their labors, and in turn I get top quality.  Vinyl took this job cause she got the 2000 bit deposit plus 25% of gross revanue from the nights she played.  In return I covered all the advertising expenses.  Just in hard numbers I’ve lost over 5000 bits on this deal already.  Vinyl’s gear would almost cover that loss, though if you want to hire an appraiser for me to confirm that, you’re more than welcome to.” Dawn explained angrily.

“Now it is a crying shame to hear Vinyl is in a bad way, she’s a good DJ and a profitable talent, but is my sympathy going to heal her any faster?  Would a get-well card make all the bad things go away?  The answer is no, so why should I waste everypony’s time with empty platitudes and meaningless gestures?  The simple fact is Vinyl had a contract with me, I paid a lot of bits to advertise her in this town, and I lost a lot more bits when she was a no show for her scheduled gigs.  And I will NOT make my employees suffer because Vinyl is having some bad luck.  Those 30 ponies and their families mean more to me than Vinyl does, if that makes me the new Nightmare Moon then so be it.”  Dawn took a deep breath to calm herself down.  

“So: Either I get that deposit back, or I keep her gear as reimbursement for lost revanue.  I expect an answer in 30 days or the gear is mine. Now go away, I have work to do.  Oh and do tell Vinyl to get well soon.”  The mare dismissed her with a flippant wave of a hoof.  Bon Bon stared at her, mouth agape in a mixture of shock and rage.  The mare ignored her for a moment before looking back up in annoyance.

“Bye.” She said, motioning to the door with a hoof.

With an enraged growl Bon Bon stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her with a very strong kick.  The bouncer who had been waiting in the hall took one look at her and immediately got out of the fuming mare’s way.  Bon Bon paid him no mind as she stormed out of the building and back to the home she and Lyra were renting.  The long walk back gave her time to calm down, her rage slowly dissolving to a deep sadness.  With her head down and her ears flat she sullenly made her way into the rented home.  

The house was filled with the dulcet tones of Lyra’s music.  Bon Bon found the unicorn relaxed on the couch, her lyre held in her emerald magic as her hooves delicately worked over the strings.  Bon Bon didn’t draw attention to herself, instead choosing to simply let the music wash over her.  Delicate tendrils of green magic formed ethereal fingers to pluck at each string forming scales and arpeggios only unicorns and griffons could achieve.  As the earth pony listened, it dawned on her that Lyra was playing the song she had been singing while cooking breakfast.  Lyra had remembered every note and now had turned it into a full composition.  Bon Bon couldn’t help but smile.  No pony could make her feel better than that mint-green unicorn.  Lyra played for several minutes longer before she brought her song to a close with a contented sigh.  Opening her golden eyes she jumped slightly seeing Bon Bon standing nearby.  She beamed happily at her marefriend before noticing the sullen look on Bon Bon’s face.

“Oh no…what happened Bon?” she asked as she set her lyre down carefully on the end table.  Bon Bon hopped up on the couch beside her lover, leaning against her with a sigh.  Bon Bon explained everything from Dawn’s demands and timeframe to her attitude.  Lyra held her close as she listened, running a reassuring hoof over the earth pony side.  When Bon Bon finished her story Lyra’s face told the story of a mare itching for a fight.

“I can’t believe that no good…” she growled angrily biting her tongue.  She had made a Hearth’s Warming Eve promise to Bon Bon to cut back on her swearing.

“What do we do Lyra?  We can’t let her take Vinyl’s gear, that would crush the poor girl!”  

“I guess we can talk to Octavia about it,” Lyra suggested “She would have a better idea.”  She sighed and rubbed her hoof through her mane.

“Did you have more luck?” Bon Bon asked.  Lyra grinned broadly.

“Did I ever!” she beamed happily “Allegro is the best!”

“Well,” Bon Bon said expectantly “Tell me!”

“Allegro is gonna meet us at the hospital later tonight and we’ll talk to Octavia about her shows, but aside from that he pulled the whole orchestra together and talked to them about turning a portion of our profits into a benefit for Vinyl’s medical bills!  Everypony in the symphony was all for it.  Allegro’s gonna talk to our sponsors about doing a little more, but he can’t promise anything yet.”

“That’s great news Lyra.” Bon Bon said as she hugged the unicorn.

“Hey, if you don’t mind,” Lyra started as she nuzzled Bon Bon “I was thinking we could have a light dinner here, and maybe take some sandwiches or snacks for Octavia.  I’d bet my lyre she’s barely left that hospital room.  That filly’s as stubborn as a mule.”

“Sounds like a certain unicorn I know.” Bon Bon grinned playfully.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lyra blushed.  Bon Bon chuckled and kissed Lyra’s cheek.

“Oh really?  What about that time I cut myself and needed stitches.”

“There was a lot of blood,” Lyra defended “I had to make sure you were okay.” 

“The doctor threatened to sedate you if you wouldn’t stop hovering over him.” Bon Bon giggled.  Lyra’s cheeks burned red and she huffed softly.

“I care, sue me.” She pouted.  Bon Bon leaned in close and kissed the unicorn’s cheek.

“And I love you for it LyraAAH.” Bon Bon yelped as Lyra wrapped her forelegs around the confectioner’s waist, pushing her onto her back.  Lyra pressed her cheek against Bon Bon’s chest nuzzling tenderly against the pinned mare’s chest.  Lyra sighed contentedly, her ear pressed against Bon’s chest, listening to the earth pony’s strong heartbeat.

“Mine!” Lyra announced proudly.  Bon Bon giggled softly, petting Lyra’s mint colored mane gently.  Anytime she tried to wiggle away, Lyra simply snuggled closer.

“Someone’s in a snuggly mood.” Bon Bon mused.

“Careful; I have magic and you’re ticklish.” Lyra grumbled.  Bon Bon chuckled and wrapped her legs around Lyra, allowing the unicorn the contact she wanted.  Eventually Lyra loosened her grip enough for Bon Bon to regain her freedom.  

“Come on, let’s get a little basket for Octavia.  Do you think Vinyl will be awake today?  Oh, I should put together a back of taffy for her!”  Bon Bon hopped off the couch and trotted into the kitchen, Lyra in tow.

“Uh, Bonnie, I don’t know if she’d be allowed outside food yet.” Lyra stated even as she searched the cupboards for an appropriate basket.

“Bah, taffy never spoils!  The poor filly needs some cheering anyway!”

“Alright, Alright.” Lyra surrendered, knowing much better than to get in Bon Bon’s way when the confectioner was on a mission.  As she hunted through the cupboards she found herself wondering what she would do in Octavia’s hooves.  She could only hope she never had to find out.

> Letters
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After having a simple dinner of their own and packing a couple bags of Bon Bon’s homemade sweets and sandwiches, the two took a cab back to the hospital.  The whole ride, Lyra kept one foreleg around Bon Bon’s waist, lightly holding the other mare close.  Bon Bon didn’t seem to mind the attention, even using Lyra’s shoulder as a pillow to lean on for the better part of the trip.  Lyra stole a chaste kiss on the earth pony’s cheek before she broached the question on her mind.

“So,” she started uncomfortably “How are we gonna break this to Vinyl?”

“I…I don’t know” Bon Bon admitted dejectedly. “Perhaps we should talk to Octavia first.  If she knows where the bits are then maybe we can just take care of this without telling Vinyl at all until she’s back home.”

“It must be nice to be an optimist.” Lyra snickered, earning a light elbow to the ribs.

Once they arrived at the Hospital, Lyra followed close behind Bon Bon, her mind conjuring flashes of the nightmares that had been plaguing her since Vinyl’s accident. She suppressed a shiver and inched closer to her marefriend.  She couldn’t deny a slight sense of paranoia when Bon Bon wasn’t in sight that was making her somewhat clingy.  Lyra couldn’t remember a time when she thought of Bon Bon and the predominant emotion was abject fear; the fear that if Lyra let her love out of sight for an instant she could be injured or worse.  It was irrational, it was stupid, but Lyra couldn’t keep it out of her head.  

A short trek up a flight of stairs and down a hall brought them to Vinyl’s room.  Bon Bon knocked gently at the door before pushing it open.  Inside, Octavia—looking markedly more disheveled then either mare recalled from their previous visit—was sitting beside Vinyl’s bed, a wad of tissues in her hoof that she was using to carefully dab tears away from Vinyl’s eyes.  She looked slightly surprised to see Lyra and Bon Bon, though it was quickly replaced by a weary smile.

“Who’s here, Tavi?” Vinyl asked, the question coming out more as a slurred moan.

“Lyra and Bon Bon came to visit you Vinyl.  Isn’t that nice?” Octavia said.

“That’s right, Scratch!” Lyra chirped as happily as she could manage even as her heart fluttered uncomfortably in her chest.  Neither Vinyl nor Octavia looked better than the last time she had visited.  Octavia’s grey fur was beginning to matte together after days without a proper washing or brushing.  Her long mane wasn’t in much better shape with strands sticking haphazardly in all directions.  It didn’t take a spa pony to conclude that she had been neglecting herself in more ways than one.  Vinyl, on the other hoof, was far more concerning to Lyra.  The normally exuberant mare was simply dull.  Her eyes didn’t sparkle, her coat didn’t shine, and her mane was matted and dirty.  Lyra forced herself to smile “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been rolling in hot shards of salt-covered glass.” Vinyl groaned.  Bon Bon gasped softly.

“Oh my goodness!  What’s happened?” she asked even as she made her way to Octavia, pulling the grey mare into a tight hug.

“The doctors say its nerve pain.  They’re not sure how long it will last.” Octavia lamented.  Bon Bon rubbed her back reassuringly.  “They’ve been experimenting with the medications, the one they’ve got her on now seems to be helping a bit more.  I can at least touch her again if I’m light enough.”  Octavia allowed herself a weary smile.  

“I’m sure you’ll feel better before you know it Vinyl,” Bon Bon said, earning a scoff from the agonized mare “And when you do, I brought you some of my special taffy to enjoy.” 

Vinyl’s eyes snapped open at the mention of the sweets, her mouth watering at the simple thought of a whole bag all to herself. 

“Bon Bon, if I could move…and if Lyra wouldn’t kill me for it; I’d kiss you.”

“I think I’m not the mare you need to worry about, Scratch.” Lyra snickered.  Octavia smiled as well, glad to see Vinyl looking genuinely happy even for a moment.

“I think I’ll let you get away with it just this once dear.” Octavia said.

“Oh Octavia,” Lyra grinned “Allegro’s on his way over to talk to you about your performing schedule.  The whole symphony is chipping in to a benefit fund for the medical bills.  Everyone hopes you get better soon Scratch!”  Octavia gasped, tears of joy forming in her eyes at the news.  “Should we go downstairs and meet him?” Lyra asked.  Octavia’s smile faded slightly, her gaze shifting back to Vinyl.

“I…I don’t know, I mean-“

“Tavi,” Vinyl cut in “Go.  Bon Bon and I can hang for a bit.  She’ll keep me from causing trouble.” She tried her best to smile at the grey shape she assumed was her love.  The cellist bit her lip and glanced around the room uncomfortably, what ifs cropping up in the back of her mind.  She was about to say no until she noticed the look on Lyra’s face.  The pale green unicorn was taking advantage of Vinyl’s poor vision and silently mouthing the words ‘we need to talk’.  Octavia furrowed her brow in concern and took a look at Bon Bon who simply nodded.

“Alright…Alright.” She relented “I won’t be long Vinyl, I promise.”

“I’d say I’ll see you soon, but you all look the same to me right now.” Vinyl chuckled.  

Octavia followed Lyra out of the room; regularly glancing nervously over her shoulder the further they got from Vinyl’s room.  Lyra waited till they reached the stairwell before she spoke.

“I’m serious about Allegro being on his way and the benefit.  The symphony really is pulling together for you.”

“What is it you needed to talk about out here then?” Octavia asked matching her pace to the unicorns.  Lyra sighed uncomfortably.

“We didn’t wanna throw this at Vinyl without giving you a heads up first.  Bon Bon went to talk to Dawn Chaser today, the owner of that club she had been scheduled to play in.  It didn’t go well.” Lyra admitted.  Octavia froze in her tracks, grabbing Lyra’s shoulders and pulling her face-to-face.

“What happened?  What happened!” she demanded, her lavender eyes full of fear and protective rage that made Lyra wither under her glare. 

“D-Dawn w-wants her deposit back in t-thirty day or she’s gonna keep Vinyl’s gear!” Lyra mewled.  Octavia’s eyes went wide as she processed the information.

“No…no that can’t…she wouldn’t.”

“I…we were hoping you might know where Vinyl kept those bits so we could get her gear back before…” The sight of fresh tears rolling down Octavia’s cheeks brought Lyra’s words to a halt.  “Tavi?” Lyra reached out to her friend nervously.

“There are no bits anymore.” The cellist whispered.

“What?  What happened?” Lyra gasped.  Octavia smiled and scoffed bitterly, her tears forming tiny rivers down her cheeks.

“Vinyl got that money months ago when she scheduled the show.  Her show dates and my concert dates didn’t mesh well so she used those bits to rent the townhouse we were staying in so that we could spend more time together between our performances.” Octavia leaned heavily against the wall for balance, a feeling of vertigo nearly overwhelming her.  Lyra was at her side immediately, anxiously placing a hoof on the earth pony’s shoulder.

“Octavia?  Octavia, are you okay?  Come on girl talk to me!” Lyra asked nervously.

“I’m sorry.” Octavia gasped “I just…I just need to sit for a moment.”  She said as she sat on the edge of a step, one hoof covering her eyes.  She focused only on deep controlled breaths through her mouth.  She became deaf to the outside world, barely aware of Lyra’s trembling hoof on her shoulder.  Only after she was sure the feeling had passed did she dare open her eyes.  Lyra was staring at her nervously.

“What happened?  Are you okay?  Do you need a doctor?” the unicorn asked, her voice trembling.

“Yes, yes I’m fine.  Sorry.” Octavia forced a small smile for her friend.  Lyra scoffed.

“You nearly scared the green out of my fur!  What happened?” she demanded.

“I-” she stuttered, biting her lower-lip hesitantly “I haven’t slept much the last few days.” 

Lyra’s expression shifted from apprehension to sympathy.  

“Nightmares?” she asked softly.  Octavia’s gaze fell to the floor, unwilling to look Lyra in the eye.

“Oh honey,” the unicorn whispered, pulling the grey mare into a tight hug “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to; just know that Bonnie and I are here if you need us.  Okay?”  Lyra waited for Octavia to nod before she released her hug.  Octavia’s lavender gaze remained fixated on the floor.

“Are you and Bon Bon sleeping well?” She asked quietly.  Lyra hesitated in her answer.  Part of her wanted to simply pretend her nightmares never happened, but the part that knew Octavia as both a friend and a frightened lover overruled her pride.

“Bonnie sleeps well enough I think.  I…have trouble.” She reluctantly admitted.  Octavia looked Lyra in the eye.  Lyra could see her mind running with unspoken questions just as Octavia could see the hidden details in Lyra’s golden orbs.  With a slight nod Octavia got back to her hooves and resumed the walk downstairs with Lyra right beside her. 

“What should we tell Vinyl?” Lyra eventually asked.  Octavia remained silent for a moment.  “We can’t just keep her in the dark on this.”

“I know…I just…I just need to think for a while.” Octavia held her head high as she walked, trying to carry herself with what dignity she could.  “Lyra?”

“Yea?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?” she asked, slightly confused.

“For doing all of this.  If it wasn’t your you and Bon Bon…” she let the sentiment hang in the air her words caught in her throat.  Lyra smiled and gave her a sidelong hug.

“You and Vinyl would do the same for us.” Lyra replied simply.  The remainder of the walk to the lobby was done in silence, both mares lost in thought. 

The lobby of the hospital was a wide-open rotunda.  The entrance of the building was a glass and metal construction that allowed plenty of light in during the day.  Tan tiles affixed in a light grey grout made up the floor.  Two walls were painted a warm burgundy red with the other two walls being a tan paint to counter the red.  A large wooden desk sat towards the center of the space.  The desk itself was constructed in a large torus configuration.  Visitors could stand on the outside while a secretary and two guide ponies sat on the inside.  Visitors who needed help finding a family member’s room or a specific department could be shown directly by one of the guides.

Towards the doors leading in and out of the building was a small sitting area.  A small garden of various plants sat in simple pots and planters lining the glass wall.  The space was purposely built to have a meditative quality to it.  Octavia wondered if any pony every truly felt soothed there.  Sitting patiently on one of the plush chairs was Allegro.  The stallion seemed lost in thought as the mares approached him.  Only when they got very close did his eyes widen and his mind return to the living world.

“Octavia!” he smiled as he hopped off the chair, pulling the cellist into a comforting hug that she returned. “I’m so sorry to hear about Vinyl.  My daughter is a huge fan and was simply heartbroken when I told her at dinner.”

“Thank you Allegro.  I’m so sorry about all thi-” Octavia’s apology was cut of by the stallion’s hoof sticking in her mouth.

“I will hear none of that.  Accidents happen my friend, it’s not your fault and I won’t have you apologize for being a victim of circumstance.  Are we clear?” he smiled and released his hoof from her muzzle when she nodded.  “If your intent on apologizing for anything then I’ll maybe consider allowing an apology for not telling me you were getting engaged.” The stallion grinned.  Octavia bashfully pressed her front hooves together.

“I didn’t want to make any fuss.  Our audience doesn’t tend to be the most…erm…progressive.” She confessed.  Allegro laughed.

“Yes well, they don’t need to know the specifics.” He noted.  Octavia and Lyra exchanged a look of confusion prompting the stallion to elaborate  “After you left, Lyra, I had a meeting with our chief sponsor for this tour; Mr. Fancy Pants.”

“Fancy Pants is our sponsor?  I’ve done quartets and small shows for him in Canterlot before.” Octavia interrupted, the surprise evident on her face.  “He almost never leaves Canterlot, why would he be here?”

“I believe it has something to do with the mare he’s courting.  Miss Fleur de Lis I believe her name is.  She works as a fashion model here in Manehatten.  Well, at least that’s what Fancy Pants told me!” Allegro chuckled “Anyway, he asked me how preparations for the tour were proceeding and well, one thing led to another and I told him about your situation, Octavia.  Well, he remembered your work quite fondly from the soirées he hosted in Canterlot.   He was quiet for a while and then sat up in his chair and informed me that he would see to it that all the symphony’s profits would go toward a charity drive to help you with Vinyl’s medical bills.”

Octavia gasped, her right hoof covering her mouth.  Her heart fluttered in her chest and joyous tears gathered in her lavender eyes.  

“There is one small catch however.” Allegro continued, “He wants you to be present for the performances.”

“W-what?  Why?” Octavia blurted loudly, “No, no I couldn’t! I can’t leave Vinyl alone!”  Allegro held up his front hooves in a calming gesture.

“Octavia, orchestras are not high profit ventures.  Most of the revenues go to paying the musicians, advertising, and venue expenses.  If we make 20,000 bits in revanue that only translates to about 1500 to 3500 bits in profit depending on the show.  Given that this is Manehatten not Canterlot the revenues are likely to be lower.  There are ways we can increase the charity funds, like making some sort of statement before the show starts or during intermission.  Manehatten ponies tend to be more charitable then Canterlot ponies, but the purses are lighter here as well.  I think between the musician’s benefit and the proceeds from the revenues you can count on five to six thousand bits.  Will that be enough to cover the hospital expenses?” He asked.

Octavia’s head sank “No…no it wouldn’t” Allegro gave the mare a sympathetic smile.

“Octavia, I would love to be able to simply give you your payment as an act of charity, but I can’t.  Nor do I have the time to find another principle cellist half as talented as you are.  The students I can shuffle around with relative ease, the quartets are harder but we can still find someone to cover for you, but I need you to play in the symphony.  Not just because the difficulty of your solos and duets, but also because seeing you there in person will appeal to the hearts and minds of the audience which is your best bet to get a few extra bits in donations.”

Octavia rubbed her foreleg uncomfortably “I don’t know, Allegro…Vinyl,”

“Would Vinyl want you to spend your every waking moment in here sitting on your hooves?” Lyra interrupted earning a glare from the cellist.

“That’s not fair.” She retorted.

“We can go upstairs and ask her.” Lyra returned.  Octavia felt her posture sink.  Lyra’s tone had been friendly and her words rang true, but that didn’t stop them from hurting less.  Allegro conspicuously cleared his throat to draw her attention.

“Not to impose myself, but I should very much like to meet your fiancé, Octavia.  After all, anypony able to get into your heart is a pony worth meeting.  Also,” he used his magic to retrieve a white envelope from his saddlebag “My daughter wouldn’t let me leave the house until I swore on Celestia’s name that I would deliver this ‘get well soon’ card.”  He smiled warmly.  Octavia stared at him for a moment before she smiled and chuckled, wiping the moisture from her eyes.

“Your daughter sounds like a wonderful mare, Allegro.” she said, Allegro allowed himself a proud smile.

“Toccata has grown to be a wonderful girl.  Though I’ll never figure out where she learned to love Vinyl’s style of music, no offense.”  He admitted.  Octavia couldn’t contain a burst of laughter.  Lyra giggled as well, though more at Allegro’s confusion then anything.

“Vinyl would be thrilled to hear she turned another pony to her side.” Lyra explained, Allegro chuckled lightly.  Octavia let out a relaxed sigh before rising to her hooves.

“Alright, Allegro, you can meet Vinyl.  And I will talk with her.” Octavia conceded leading the way back upstairs.  Allegro and Lyra followed closely.  

The three kept to a peaceable silence during the fairly brief walk, Octavia lost in her thoughts.  A lifetime of habit gave her pause long enough to knock on Vinyl’s door before she entered.  Bon Bon was sitting comfortably beside the bed, chatting with Vinyl.  Octavia’s heart still skipped a beat every time she saw her love confined in the sterile white bed, collar holding her neck stable, and face tense.  Bon Bon smiled warmly as they entered the room.

“Welcome back girls, how was Allegro?” Bon Bon asked.

“Well I should hope I was well enough.” The stallion in question answered as he walked through the door surprising the earth pony.  Octavia ignored her friends for a moment, taking her place beside Vinyl’s bed.

“How are you feeling, Vinyl?  Is the pain still alright?” she asked worriedly. 

Vinyl did her best to nod.  A gesture that, given the nature of the cervical collar, was limited to a very subtle motion.  “I’ll live, Tavi.” 

“Vinyl Scratch I presume?” Allegro stepped forward.

“Allegedly.” Vinyl replied.  Octavia facehoofed.

“A pleasure to meet you finally, I’m Allegro, the conductor for the Manehatten Symphony.”

“Tavi’s boss?  Cool! I, uh, I’d get up and shake your hoof but…well…” Vinyl tried her best to smile, though the result looked more like a grimace.  Her eyes shifted uncertainly between Octavia and Allegro.  “I’m sorry to ask, but could I get my glasses please?  It’d be nice to tell who’s who.”

Octavia bit back a chuckle.  “Of course.  Bon Bon, her glasses are on the night stand next to you.” Octavia pointed with a hoof.  The confectioner quickly retrieved the item in question and carefully put them on Vinyl’s face.  Vinyl cringed at the contact; while the new cocktail of medication she was on made it slightly more bearable, the pain was still sharp.  She managed a slight smile as the world was brought back into focus.

“Thanks Bonnie.” Vinyl said.

“It’s no trouble Vinyl.” Bon Bon replied, moving around the bed to sit beside Lyra.

“So, what can I do ya for?” Vinyl asked in the most chipper tone she could manage.  Octavia found herself in the unique position of feeling thrilled to see Vinyl acting more like her normal self, and simultaneously regretting letting Allegro bear witness to it.

“Well I had come by to discuss some assistance for you from the orchestra.  Octavia’s been a good friend to us as well as a phenomenal principle cellist, so we’ve got a nice charity fund that should help with your medical expenses.  I wish I could say we could cover them all, but orchestra’s don’t pay as well as your work does.” He smiled apologetically.

“Remind me to hug you when I can move again.” Vinyl replied with a genuine smile.  

Allegro chuckled “Deal.  Tell me Vinyl, does your magic work?”

Vinyl’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion “Um, yea.  Long as I can see what I’m trying to grab.” She admitted.  

Allegro nodded, his horn flaring to life and reaching into his bag.  After a moment he levitated a simple white envelope into Vinyl’s line of sight.  Small concentration lines formed across Vinyl’s face as she focused her magic for the first time in days.  Pale blue energy slowly collected around her horn, her eyes fixated on the envelope in front of her.  Deliberately slowly Vinyl reached out with her magic.  The blue aura of her magic steadily overtook Allegro’s magic until he felt confident enough to fully release his grasp.  Vinyl released the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.   With a bit more effort she reached into the envelope and pulled out a pale blue card, the picture on the front showing an earth pony with a big lump on its head and another earth pony with a nurses hat bandaging it up.  Opening the card, Vinyl read the note inside.

‘Dear Vinyl,’ she read in silence ‘My name is Toccata and if you’re reading this that means Dad actually remembered to give this card to you.  I’ve been a huge fan of your albums for years now and even got to see you play last year when your tour went through Manehatten.  My brother Fugue and I had tickets to see your shows a couple days ago and everyone was really worried when you didn’t show up.  We all know you never leave your fans hanging.  

Dad told me what happened to you, and while I can’t imagine what it must be like, I just want you to know that all our thoughts are with you and your fans will be there for you the whole way.  Please get well soon.

Your loyal fan,
Toccata’

Vinyl smiled, carefully putting the card back in its envelope and gently placing it on the nightstand beside her.

“Thank you.” She said quietly at a loss for more words, Allegro smiled and nodded.

“Before I go,” He started “There is one thing I believe you, Octavia, and I need to discuss.”

Octavia shot him a glare that went ignored.  “What’s up?” Vinyl asked.

“I need Octavia to play at least for the symphony dates and possibly a few of the small quartets we had scheduled.  I can shift around the students and some of the private shows, but that’s about it.”  He explained, Octavia sighed and opened her mouth to speak when Vinyl interrupted.

“Of course you should play, Tavi.” She said causing Octavia to have a moment of incoherence.

“But, no-Vinyl, I can’t just leave you here alone!” She pleaded.  Vinyl was quiet for a moment.

“Could you guys give us a minute alone please?” she asked.

“Sure thing Scratch.” Lyra answered.  Allegro simply nodded before following Lyra and Bon Bon out of the room, the door clicking closed behind them.  Vinyl waited for a minute, her eyes focused on Octavia who was staring at the floor sadly.

“Octavia,” Vinyl started, her tone loving but firm “Don’t you want to play for other ponies anymore?”

“No, well, yes.  But you’re more important than them to me, Vinyl.” She admitted.  Vinyl watched her closely, her eyes boring into Octavia’s very soul.  It made the earth pony shiver.  Many ponies made the mistake of assuming that Vinyl was a simple-minded pony based on her bravado and coltish mannerisms.  Octavia had made the same mistake when they had first met.  Likewise Vinyl had taken one look at Octavia and assumed she was a stuck-up narcissist.  Both had learned the hard way just how wrong those assumptions had been.

“Tavi, are you blaming yourself for this?” Vinyl asked, when Octavia didn’t respond Vinyl sighed.  “Tavi, it’s not your fault, if any pony is to blame it’s me.”

“What?!” Octavia blurted loudly “No Vinyl, it is my fault!  I should’ve had you wait with us until the bill was paid, or-” Octavia’s words were silenced by the gentle grip of Vinyl’s magic, the blue aura enveloping her muzzle.  Vinyl’s sympathetic gaze caught Octavia’s attention, with a nod she was released from the magic muzzle.

“Tavi, I can’t remember what happened after I left the restaurant, I can only remember bits and pieces of being in the ER later.   I don’t know if it was my fault, but I do know it wasn’t yours, and seeing you beat yourself up like this,” Vinyl paused, her eyes starting to tear up again “It breaks my heart Tavi.”

Octavia’s ears folded back as she looked away, unable to look Vinyl in the eye.  She felt the slight pressure of Vinyl’s magic pushing at the back of her neck, beckoning her closer to the crippled mare.  She allowed the magical grasp to guide her to the edge of the bed where she leaned down to delicately nuzzle Vinyl’s cheek.

“I miss being able to hold you.” She admitted earning a choked laugh from Vinyl.

“I love you Tavi, every crazy bit of you.”

“Hello pot, I’m kettle.” Octavia rolled her eyes, Vinyl giggled.

“Never accused myself of being normal.” The unicorn admitted before sighing lightly.  “Tavi, I want you to do me a favor.”

“What is it Vinyl?” Octavia leaned back so she was able to see Vinyl’s face.

“I…I want you to go home tonight.”

“Wh-what?  Why?” Octavia recoiled, her heart clenching in her chest “No Vinyl, I can’t just leave you alone!” 

“I talked to Bonnie about it, she and Lyra would stay here if it would make you feel better.” Vinyl winced uncomfortably.  With reluctant effort she focused her magic to remove her glasses “Tavi, I don’t want you to be locked up in here with me.  I don’t want to be in here anymore.  Please, go home tonight.  Sleep in our bed, have a real meal, and in the morning do something fun.  And then…and then someone is gonna need to go tell Dawn Chaser why I missed my shows for her.”  Vinyl groaned.   Octavia found herself glad Vinyl wasn’t wearing her glasses again.  She had no desire to tell Vinyl what Bon Bon’s encounter with Dawn had been like.  Maybe she would have more luck if she tried talking to the mare herself.

“Alright Vinyl.  Alright.” She relented sadly.  “But don’t expect me to make a habit of this, I know for a fact you wouldn’t leave if I were in your position.”

“Of course I wouldn’t, they’d have to drag me out kicking, screaming, and biting.  But that’s why you’ve always been the better half, Tavi.” Vinyl smiled.  Octavia smirked incredulously.

“Is it the drugs making you this cheesy, or am I engaged to a closet romantic?” she giggled.  Vinyl blushed even as she smiled up to her lover.

“You’ll just have to keep me and find out I suppose.  Now go get everyone back in here so I can say goodnight and you can get home in time to eat something at a semi-decent hour.”

Octavia nodded, doing her best to keep her chin up.  She gave Vinyl a delicate kiss on the cheek, mindful of how Vinyl’s medicine seemed to be wearing off based on her uncomfortable wince.  She walked over to the door and motioned the others to come back in.  

“Bon Bon, Lyra, would you mind staying with Vinyl tonight please?” she asked reluctantly

“I already talked it over with Lyra,” Bon Bon said with a smile “We’d be more then happy to dear, go home and get yourself a good night’s rest.” 

“We’ll take good care of Scratch!” Lyra chirped “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

“Hey, Allegro.” Vinyl started “Tell your kids I really appreciate the card.  I owe them some backstage passes.”

Allegro smiled “They’d like that a lot.  It’s been a pleasure to meet you today Vinyl, I just wish it had been under better circumstances.”  Vinyl’s smile saddened ever so slightly.

“That’s life isn’t it.” She said.

“Goodnight Vinyl, I’ll be back tomorrow as soon as I can.  I love you.” Octavia gave the unicorn another soft smile that Vinyl returned.

“Love you too, Tavi.” Vinyl replied with a smile.  Octavia reluctantly left with Allegro before she had a chance to change her mind, leaving her cello behind as she planned to be back as fast as possible.  She and Allegro walked side by side out of the building in silence.  Octavia shivered, the crisp April air coursing like water through her fur.  Allegro bid her goodnight as they each took a separate cab home.

After a thirty-minute ride Octavia paid her faire and hopped out of the cab, walking numbly into the townhouse the couple had rented.  Flicking the lights on, she paused in the foyer.  The house had been largely untouched since the morning they had left to meet Lyra and Bon Bon for lunch, sans the items Octavia had asked the other mares to bring to the hospital for her.  Vinyl’s electric blue coffee cup was still placed beside the sink, Octavia’s sheet music notes were still on the table along with her pencil, and dozens of other little items were in their place each with a distinct memory that screamed for Octavia’s attention.

With a sigh she dropped her saddlebag to the floor, no longer caring about her penchant for order or cleanliness.  It all seemed pointless now.  She passed by the fridge, not in the mood to eat and instead made her way directly to the bathroom for a hot shower.  As the water heated she removed her bowtie and waited until she could see the evanescent tendrils of steam rising from the tile floor before she positioned herself under the hot stream.  Warm humidity filled her sinuses as she breathed deeply, allowing the warmth to seep into her fur and soothe the tension from her muscles.  Days of sitting largely stationary had left her feeling stiff and sore.  Lackadaisically she washed her hair and coat, taking none of the joy she usually did in such trivialities.  

She paused as a familiar scent reached her nose; she turned around, half expecting to see Vinyl having snuck into her shower.  Disappointment filled her as she realized she had used Vinyl’s hair conditioner instead of her own.  The smell was far more utilitarian then the floral aromas Octavia preferred.  Octavia sighed and quickly rinsed the offending chemical from her mane.  Exiting the shower she grabbed the nearest towel and dried herself off.  Again Vinyl’s scent filled her nose, Octavia pressed her face into the towel and inhaled deeply.  She felt a familiar knot building in her throat.  Finishing her drying as efficiently as possible she took only a cursory amount of time to brush out her hair before she made for the bedroom.  

Clicking the lamp sitting on her nightstand on she found herself stunned by the sight on the bed she had shared with Vinyl.  The sheets were made, nearly pristine in the way that Octavia liked, and upon her pillow was a medium brown cardboard box with a simple note taped to it.  Picking it up curiously she began to read.

‘Heya Tavi,

I wasn’t kidding when I said I was gonna make the bed, betcha didn’t see that coming huh?  But I also wanted to set this little surprise up, I found it yesterday on my way home from sound checking my gear at the club.  I saw him and thought of you, so I hope you like it!

Love,
Vinyl’

Octavia’s brow furrowed in confusion, she remembered Vinyl excusing herself back to the bedroom not long before they had left the house that morning, but she hadn’t really paid attention to what the unicorn had said.  She had been far more interested in the morning crossword than what Vinyl had said.  The lump in her throat tightened.  After placing the note delicately on the nightstand her trembling hooves gingerly lifted the cover of the box.  Grasping something soft she lifted the item out.   Taking view of the item she gasped, held in her hooves was a small stuffed pony wearing the attire of the Canterlot Philharmonic Orchestra.  Little glasses were propped on his snout and a curly grey mane adorned his head.  The tag attached to his ear read ‘The Great Beethooven’.  Another sticky note hastily stuck to his chest bore Vinyl’s crude writing.

‘For my favorite cellist’ 

Octavia didn’t notice the tears streaming down her face until tiny droplets splashed upon the paper.  She set the note beside the other one on her nightstand and squeezed the stuffed toy to her chest.  Calming herself somewhat with deep breaths she wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled the sheets back enough to crawl under them, the toy clutched tightly in her foreleg.  Curling up in under the sheets her eyes drifted to Vinyl’s empty pillow, stray strands of blue decorating the white pillowcase.  Octavia pulled the pillow to her chest and turned off the light.  It wasn’t right without Vinyl’s warm back pressed against Octavia’s chest, without the soft sound of her snore in Octavia’s ears.  Without Vinyl, her bed was cold and empty.  She clutched Vinyl’s pillow and her new stuffed Beethooven closer.  That night, she cried herself to sleep.

> Ten Seconds
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The faint trails of light filtered between the shades of Octavia’s window, casting the glow of morning light across her face.  She mumbled, her mind more asleep than awake, as she pulled Vinyl’s pillow closer.  She nuzzled into the downy object, a peaceful smile forming on her face.  The delicate whistles of the morning birds mixed with the muffled traffic of city life.  Slowly waking from a night of dreamless sleep, she gradually became aware of the pillow her nose was presently buried into.  She didn’t open her eyes.  If she opened her eyes then she could no longer pretend she was holding Vinyl securely in her forelegs or that her nose was pressed against the back of Vinyl’s neck with that garish mane washing over her dull grey fur.  The pretense was aided by the smell embedded into the pillow by years of Vinyl sleeping on it, yet at the end of the day it was still just a hollow comfort.

Reluctantly opening her eyes, the illusion vanished.  Octavia sighed.  Still clutched against her breast was the stuffed Beethooven, its uniform now crumpled from Octavia’s restless night.   Wiping the sleep from her eyes she lifted herself into a mostly upright position.  With a yawn she slipped carefully off the bed, pausing just long enough to gently grasp Beethooven in her teeth before blearily stumbling her way to the bathroom.  Sitting the doll beside the sink, she took a look at herself in the mirror.  Loathe as she was to admit it, Vinyl had been right.  Sleeping at home, even alone, had done her good.  The bags under her eyes were less noticeable, her coat had more of a shine to it, and she felt a bit better.  Her mane, on the other hoof, was a spectacular catastrophe.  

With a sigh she picked up her brush and began the arduous task of combing it back into its proper style.  Her eyes drifted to Beethooven as the brush scraped through her mane.  She would make sure to thank Vinyl properly when she returned to the hospital later.  Hopefully her meeting with Dawn would go better than Bon Bon’s attempt had worked out.

“What do you think?” she asked the doll, hating her brushing.  “Maybe if I appeal to her as Vinyl’s fiancé?  See if I can get sympathy from that angle?”

The doll stared at her with its black lacquer eyes.  Octavia sighed and shook her head, resuming her brushing.  

“I suppose you’re right, it probably wouldn’t work.  I just can’t think of anything else to try, though.” She contemplated; Beethooven stared at her in patient silence.  Octavia found herself chuckling “If Vinyl could see me now she’d never let me live it down.”

Octavia frowned as she worked the brush through her mane, her mind drifting to memories from mornings past where Vinyl would use her magic to brush out Octavia’s mane for her, often while embracing her from behind, rubbing her back, or a myriad of other little gestures that the earth pony had taken for granted.  The realization cut like a knife.

“I swear,” she started, her gaze shifting from her reflection in the mirror to the little Beethooven “Once Vinyl’s home I’ll never take her for granted again.” 

Finishing her mane and doing her tail well enough to be presentable, Octavia took Beethooven with her to the kitchen, setting him on the table while she perused the contents of the refrigerator in search of breakfast.  Her nose furled in disgust at the various leftovers that had been sitting too long without Vinyl or herself home to eat them.  She removed the rotting items and deposited them into the trash.  Sighing, she browsed through the cupboards for something edible.  Finding nothing that tickled her fancy, she packed Beethooven into her saddlebag, removed the full trash bag replacing it with a fresh one, and deposited the trash bag on the curb for collection.  

Octavia paused a moment to look up at the sky, the endless blue speckled by cotton clouds.  Pegasi of all colors glided lazily on thermal updrafts, Celestia’s sun shining brightly above them all.  The warmth it cast over Octavia’s body countered the cool spring breeze pleasantly enough.   She wished Vinyl were standing beside her sharing in this moment.  The familiar pang of sadness clenched Octavia’s heart; with a sigh she cantered down the sidewalk towards town.  A hot coffee and some breakfast would do her good, particularly if Dawn proved to be as…difficult as Lyra and Bon Bon had implied.  

Deciding after a moment’s thought to walk rather than take a cab, Octavia made her way downtown in the general direction of The Watering Hole as well as a coffee shop she and Vinyl had been frequenting on their days off.  The walk helped her feel a bit better at least, getting the blood flowing through her muscles removed the ache induced from days of sitting largely still.  She ignored the many earth ponies and unicorns she passed on her walk.  She found herself resenting the ones that she saw laughing and smiling, envying the couples that stole chaste kisses and touches in storefronts and cafés.  

Octavia stifled a growl.  She knew she wasn’t being fair; she had no right to be angry at other ponies for not sharing in her misery.  She was better than that, right? 
Forcing the thoughts from her mind she found the coffee shop she was looking for, a rustic-looking building simply known as The Eighth Note.  Vinyl had found the place not long after the two had rented the townhouse; both had come to enjoy it as a good place for quick ‘date’ moments.  Pushing open the door she was slightly surprised by how empty the establishment was, at least until she noticed it was almost 11:30.  

Aside from herself and the two employees behind the counter there were only three other ponies in the coffee house.  In the far back corner, slumped forward in his seat, was a pegasus stallion, his fur pale blue in color.  Sitting on his head was a black fedora pulled down over his eyes as he snored lightly.  Thin strands of his light brown mane obscured his face further.  Sitting on the table in front of him was three empty cups as well as a stack of papers.  Towards the front of the café was another pegasus wearing a set of glasses that were perched on his snout.  His fur a smooth charcoal color stood in strong contrast to his golden blonde mane.  Octavia found herself momentarily transfixed by the color.  Moving into towards the counter she got into line behind a purple unicorn, the mark on his flank bearing a crescent moon with three stars.  Octavia wondered if he worked with in the Royal Guard or perhaps Celestia’s Academy.  The barista, a tan furred unicorn mare with a pink mane set a cup of tea and a muffin in front of him.  He took the items in his own magic and trotted happily off to a table to enjoy his snack.  Octavia took a moment to peruse the menu before stepping up to the counter.  

“Morning, ma’am.  What can we get you?” The mare smiled pleasantly.

“I’ll take a cup of black tea, no cream or sugar and a blueberry muffin if it’s not too much trouble please.” Octavia said.

“For here or to go?” The mare asked.

“I’ll take it here please.” Octavia smiled wearily.  The mare nodded and rang her order up with a smile.

“That’ll be five bits please.”  She said.  Octavia nodded and retrieved the sum from her bag.  “Thank you ma’am, if you just wanna find a table I’ll bring it out to you. “

Octavia started to say that she didn't require help. Then she remembered that Vinyl wasn't with her to carry their orders in her magic. “Thank you.” She replied quietly before turning to find a table.  

Helping herself to one of the complimentary newspapers left out for customers to read, she settled in at a quiet table away from the other ponies.  She skimmed the headlines for a few minutes before the barista delivered her tea and muffin.  Octavia thanked the mare without looking up from her paper.

“Alone today?” the barista asked, the unexpected question catching Octavia unprepared.

“Beg pardon?” she asked,

“Usually you come in here with that unicorn.”  The friendly mare explained, “Is she running late?  Should we get a hot chocolate ready for her?”

Octavia’s posture sank, “No, no she won’t be coming back for a while.  She-She’s been a bit under the weather.” Octavia said carefully.

“Oh, well I’m very sorry to hear that.  Tell her to get well soon, okay hon?” The barista pony smiled.  Octavia nodded and returned the smile before the other mare trotted off.

After taking some time to enjoy the tea and muffin, Octavia allowed herself a moment to simply read the newspaper.  Just for a while, she could pretend life was normal.  The illusion was only broken when the barista started poking the sleeping pegasus, informing him to either buy another drink or go home to sleep.  Octavia folded the paper, setting it back down on the table before heading out. 

Her walk to The Watering Hole took the better part of an hour.  A maelstrom of thoughts swirled through her mind.  What would she say?  What would Dawn say?  Could she control herself if things got heated, or would she do or say something stupid?  Vinyl had chided her for years about her admittedly hot temper, which usually earned the unicorn a playfully thwack, but now?  She had no plan, and not much information to go on.  Part of that was due to Vinyl’s peculiar habit of self-censorship.  Vinyl hated it when the ponies she cared for worried, which meant she rarely told Octavia about things that were bothering her, and when she did it was usually because the cellist walked in on her trying to cry discreetly.

Octavia paused in front of the heavy black doors of The Watering Hole.  The sign on the front read ‘CLOSED’ in bolded letters with the hours of operation printed below.  Most sensible ponies would have shrugged and gone on with their day, yet one of the perks to having a fiancé that worked as a professional DJ was that it gave Octavia a few insights most ponies lacked.  Clubs always had staff show up well before the doors opened in order to do any number of tasks ranging from the never ending process of cleaning and restocking the bar, ordering more inventory, or setting up the nights entertainment.

Taking a moment to ensure her bowtie was straight, she knocked heavily on the door.  After a minute of being soundly ignored she knocked again with a bit more force.  Eventually a decidedly annoyed looking earth pony answered, his large stature leading Octavia to assume he worked as a bouncer.

“We’re closed miss,” he informed her “the hours of operation are listed on the door.

“I know.  I’m here to speak with Dawn Chaser.” Octavia replied evenly.

“You got an appointment?” he asked.

“Tell her it’s about Vinyl Scratch.” She said.  The stallion looked mildly more interested.  Octavia wondered if Vinyl knew this pony, or if Dawn talked about Vinyl when she wasn’t there.  She did her best to be optimistic.

“And who might you be?” He asked warily.

“I’m her fiancé.”  Octavia answered, earning an incredulous look from the stallion.

“Oookay, wait here.” He said, closing the door on her.  Octavia waited with as much patience as she could manage.    Several minutes later he reappeared, looking markedly more uncomfortable than before. “Come with me please.” He said, holding the door open for her.

Octavia followed the stallion into the bar.  Like most venues Vinyl got hired to play in, the door led straight into a wide-open room.  A clean, but well-worn dance floor occupied enough space for at least 100 ponies to express themselves to whatever rhythm was offered on a given night.  Several unicorns in the process of setting up a large sound system occupied the raised stage.  A white-furred pegasus with a red and blue mane directed oversaw the process, a pair of red headphones hanging from her neck.  On the wall behind the stage was a banner that identified the current entertainer to be DJ THUND3R.  Octavia glared at the offending signage.

‘That should be Vinyl setting up right now,’ she thought ‘He’d better not be using Vinyl’s gear.  These ponies don’t have the right!’ Octavia bit her tongue and forced herself to continue walking before she caused a scene.

On the opposite wall from the dance floor was a long bar and a cluster of small round tables.  Several ponies were busying themselves stocking the bar shelves, cleaning glasses, wiping down tables, and taking care of the myriad of other small tasks required to run a club.  Octavia followed the bouncer past them and up a flight of stairs in the back of the building.  He paused at the top and turned to face her.

“Dawn’s office is the first door on the right.  I assume you can find your own way out when you’re done?” he asked.

Octavia’s eye twitched subtly in annoyance at the question. “Yes, thank you.”

He nodded curtly, slipping past her to get back downstairs.  Octavia took a deep breath to steady her nerves.  Without further delay she trotted to the door, lifting a hoof to knock politely.

“Come in.” came the muted response.

Pushing the door open, Octavia spotted the mare that Bon Bon had described.  It only took a glance for Octavia to get a sense of what kind of mare she was about to deal with.  Dawn’s posture behind her desk was a case study in the difference between Canterlot and Manehatten businesspony’s.  A Canterlot pony was relaxed and sat with an inborn poise.  They were in charge, they knew it, and they made sure everyone else did too.  That sense of personal control gave them a formal, but distinctly relaxed posture.  

It was easy for Octavia to tell that Dawn Chaser was not a Canterlot mare.  Behind her desk she looked much closer to a dragon guarding its horde than anything else.  Her wary eyes carried the look of both predator and prey.  She was a mare who had been given very little in life and owed all she had to her own bitter work.  Octavia suppressed a gulp.  Vinyl understood how to work with ponies like Dawn, she had built her career on it.  Octavia’s experience with Dawn’s kind was limited, and rarely pleasant for anyone involved. 

“And just who in the hay are you supposed to be?” Dawn asked, interrupting Octavia’s thoughts.

“Beg pardon?” she asked dumbly.

“I was told Vinyl’s fiancé was pounding my door down, not some fancy flank like you.” Dawn scowled.  Octavia wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be amused by the mare’s antagonism or offended by it.  The net result of her confusion was to stare blankly.  

“So what,” Dawn continued “you her lawyer?  Another friend here to feed me a sob story and tell me that I’ve got a heart that makes Wendigo’s look warm?”

“Uh, no?” Octavia managed. 

“Then what?”  Dawn demanded, “Get to your point or get out, frankly I don’t care which.”

“I am Vinyl’s fiancé!” Octavia answered, her frustration rapidly building.  To her surprise, Dawn recoiled slightly and remained silent.  “I came here to see if we could come to some sort of understanding about Vinyl’s gear.  Wi-”

“An understanding?” Dawn angrily cut her off “Here’s an understanding for you; I don’t need fillyfoolers headlining my club.  I don’t have a problem with your kind, but I will not get my name or my employees dragged into your social war!” 

“Wh-What?” Octavia stammered, “What in the name of Celestia do you mean by “my kind”?”

“Fillyfoolers, coltcuddlers, gays, lesbians, ho-mo-sexual ponies!” Dawn spat.  “It comes out that I had a fillyfooler mainlining my club, then the next thing I know half my clientele start a boycott and show up at my front door with picket signs for supporting the “gay agenda”!” she waved her hooves in the air sarcastically “Then they’ll start harassing my employees, forcing them to take sides.  Somepony might even get hurt!  Then what happens?  I’ll tell you what, than I’m litigated right on out of business!  NO!” she slammed a hoof on the table causing Octavia to jump. “No, I will not allow that to happen!  I will not let my life’s work go up in flames for your bloody agenda!”

Octavia didn’t realize she was snarling.  Then again, abject rage wasn’t an emotion she was used to.  She wanted nothing more then to leap over the table and beat the businessmare within an inch of her life.  The one thing that kept her rooted in her seat was the small fact that she couldn’t be with Vinyl if she was in jail for assault.  For several moments the only sound in the small office was the angry breathing of the two mares.

“Well then,” Octavia started slowly, doing her best to keep her tone even, “if ponies like Vinyl and I are so problematic for you, how’s about I take Vinyl’s equipment off your hooves.  That way you don’t have to worry about it tainting your precious reputation.”

Dawn smacked her hoof against her forehead, “Didn’t your friend from yesterday explain this to you?” She gave an agitated sigh, her hoof rubbing her temple, “If Vinyl can’t get me back the money, then I can’t give her back the gear!”

“Tell me,” Octavia started “is the DJ setting up downstairs using his or her own equipment?”

“No, that DJ is using my equipment.” Dawn answered warily.

“And I assume you keep at least a full backup set of gear in case those fail?”

“We ensure we have enough backup gear, cords, and parts for all our entertainers.  What are you getting at?”

“There is no way Vinyl’s gear is on parity with the equipment you have set up downstairs, what’s the point in keeping her gear when I can promise you we will repay you with bits down the road.” Octavia reasoned, having regained a semblance of her composure.  

“I wouldn’t keep her junk if you fail to return the deposit,” Dawn stated “I’d auction it off to recoup my investment.

Octavia’s jaw dropped “You don’t have the right!” she shouted.

“I do, actually.  Vinyl signed the contract herself.

“I want to see Vinyl’s contract, now.” Octavia demanded, her lavender eyes glaring at the other mare.

“Contracts between management and employees are strictly confidential.” Dawn deadpanned.

“Let me rephrase myself,” Octavia made a show of clearing her throat and straightening her bowtie. “Either you show me Vinyl’s contract, or I come back with a lawyer and a court order. As family I’m entitled to see it, regardless of whether or not we fit into your bigoted social paradigm.” 

The mares stared each other down, locked in a silent battle of wills.  Dawn, after considering her position, yielded first.  Pulling open a file cabinet she fished around for a few minutes before withdrawing several papers held together with a clip.  She set them on the desk so Octavia could read them.

“Section 24 details the policy for talent not appearing for scheduled shows without prior notification.” She explained.

Octavia slid the paper closer to herself, keeping her eyes on Dawn until the last moment.  Glancing down she skimmed the page until she found the section Dawn mentioned.  The more she read, the lower her heart sank.  The contract left little room for interpretation.  Without a prior notice of at least twenty-four hours, Dawn was contractually entitled to reclaim the deposit in currency or trade.  

Octavia couldn’t quell the tremble that spread through her body as the bitter realization settled into her mind.  Vinyl would lose her gear.

“Please,” Octavia begged, her voice sullen “we just need the money right now to cover the hospital bills.  After Vinyl is back on her feet we’ll repay you.”

“I don’t run a charity,” Dawn stated. “I’m sorry, but you’re on your own.”

“How can you be so heartless?” Octavia demanded, bitter tears rolling down her cheeks.  

“Don’t you dare!” Dawn shouted, rising to her hooves fast enough to knock her chair backward.  “Don’t you dare.  You don’t know a bloody thing about me.”

“You’re holding Vinyl’s career hostage for a few measly bits!” Octavia countered.

“Do you think I’m doing this for fun?”  Dawn asked rhetorically  “I’m covering my losses so that my stage manager, Jam Session, can pay for his foal’s schooling.  I’m covering my losses so that my bartender, Silver Lining, can afford her mothers hospice care.  I’m covering my losses, so that I can pay my rent and keep my daughter fed.  Not all of us have a significant other to help out with those bills.” Dawn’s voice quavered subtly as she spoke.  

“If you give a griffon’s backside about Vinyl, then you should understand that I would become Nightmare Moon herself to protect the ponies that I care for.” She hissed.

Octavia’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes locking with Dawns.  Instants seemed to stretch into eternities of deafening silence, returning only to normal when Octavia noticed the thin trail of tears on Dawn’s cheeks.  Taking a moment to collect herself, she rose to her hooves and quietly exited the room.  As the door clicked shut Dawn let out a shaky breath and put her head in her hooves, painful memories flashing in the back of her mind.  Alone, she allowed herself to cry in silence.  

Octavia kept her eyes forward and her chin up as she walked out of the building with what dignity she could manage.  Once outside, she slipped into the alley beside the building. There, beside and empty dumpster, she wept.  Sadness from her failure to save Vinyl’s equipment gave way to insular rage.  With an anguished cry, she bucked the solid brick building with all her might.  The force made her hind legs ache with the only result being the sharp smack of hooves on brick.  She growled out loud, all her built up frustrations boiling over in a sudden wave.  She reared back and bucked the wall again and again, each strike sending waves of dull pain through her legs as the sharp clop, clop, clop of each strike met her ears.

After the fifth strike her anger was sated enough for her to resume her pacing.  Her breaths came in heavy waves as her body recovered from the sudden and violent exertions.  The embers of her anger faded, giving way to sadness.  She needed to see Vinyl.  How she would tell her the news, she had not the slightest idea.  With a few more deep breaths Octavia began the slow march out of the alley.  Her rear legs ached, but Octavia didn’t care.  She had failed to protect Vinyl, again.  As far as the cellist was concerned, she deserved to suffer a little.

Octavia paused as she approached the street corner.  Walking to the hospital would take her the better part of the afternoon from where she found herself currently.  Checking to ensure she had enough bits left in her purse, she reluctantly she flagged down a cab.  The heavily built earth pony stallion pulling the small carriage smiled politely as she climbed aboard, taking a seat on the worn out bench.

“Where to ma’am?” he asked cordially.

“Manehatten General Hospital please.” She answered.  He nodded and began moving at a canter.  

Octavia let her mind wander, passively observing the city as it passed before her eyes.  Nearly forty minutes later the carriage came to a stop outside of the hospital.  Octavia retrieved the necessary bits for the stallion’s fare and deposited them into a brown pouch fastened to the side of the carriage.  He thanked her politely before trotting away to find his next customer.  Octavia stared up at the building before her, trepidation forming a knot in her stomach.  With a gulp she stepped forward, she couldn’t think of a time in her life when she felt more afraid of telling the truth.

The receptionists stationing the front desk smiled and nodded politely when Octavia passed them.  Her mind scrambled for things to say, every possibility falling flat before it gained traction.  Octavia knew it was hard enough for Vinyl to simply lie there and wait for something to happen.  To tell her that if or when she recovered none of her gear would be there was nothing short of a cruel blow.   

She paused outside of Vinyl’s door.  Inside she could hear Vinyl’s quiet laughter as Lyra regaled her with what seemed to be an entertaining story.  Octavia felt a cold sweat come over her.  She wanted to run, to find a deep hole to crawl into and hide from the problems of the world.  Steeling herself for the worst, Octavia knocked politely before pushing the door open.

The first thing she noticed was Lyra slouching on the couch in her…unique manner.  Bon Bon was sitting beside Vinyl with a book in her hooves, and a knowing smirk on her face.  What caught Octavia’s attention was the light blanket that covered Vinyl up to her chest, her forelegs laid out on top of it so nurses could easily access her IV line.  Ever since her the neuropathic pain started she had been unable to use a blanket; the contact of the mattress alone had been painful enough.  Now Vinyl was even wearing her glasses and seemed to be smiling genuinely.  Her ruby eyes shifted over in Octavia’s direction.

“Tavi, look!” She beamed and glanced down in the direction of her body “It doesn’t hurt anymore!”

Stunned, Octavia automatically moved to Vinyl’s bedside, a hoof nervously reaching out to the alabaster mare’s foreleg.  It had been days since she had been able to touch Vinyl, each one feeling like an eternity.  She missed the smooth texture of Vinyl’s fur, the touch of her lips, the sound of her breath.  She missed them all more than she could believe.  

“It-It’s gone?” She asked disbelievingly.  Vinyl grinned wide, unable to nod.

“Well I’ve felt better, but my body isn’t on fire anymore.” She answered.

“They gave her a different dose of medications a couple hours after you went home last night,” Bon Bon explained “It seemed to help her quite a bit so they repeated it around 4 o’clock in the morning.  By noon she was feeling good enough to try the blanket, and the pain hasn’t shown any sign of returning.”

Octavia’s hoof timidly pressed against Vinyl’s shoulder.  Aside from glancing in the general direction of the contact, Vinyl didn’t react.  Octavia smiled happily.  Words failed her; all expression was reduced to a smile and a choked laugh.  Vinyl smiled up to her, her horn flaring to life.  Octavia felt a gentle pressure on the back of her head, guiding her down for a gentle kiss.  There weren’t fireworks, no clarions called; there was just Octavia and Vinyl.  For the cellist, it was like coming home.

Octavia carefully draped her left foreleg around Vinyl’s chest in a loose hug.  She wanted nothing more then to pull the unicorn close and never let her go.  Only the fear of hurting Vinyl’s neck restrained her.  Reluctantly breaking the kiss, Octavia couldn’t help but laugh.

“I missed you too.” She said, earning a giggle from Vinyl.

“Sleep good?” the unicorn asked.

“I did,” Octavia smiled as she retreated slightly, giving Vinyl some space.  Lyra moved to sit beside Bon Bon. “I found the gift you left on the bed as well, you really are a romantic.”

Lyra guffawed loudly “What?” she grinned broadly.  Vinyl groaned, her alabaster cheeks flushing crimson.  “Since when did you become a romantic, Scratch?  Oh, Oh! What was it Octavia?”

“Uh, a stuffed toy.” Octavia answered cautiously.

“That-that is priceless!” She laughed louder “What’s next Scratch, bouquets of roses and chocolate heart boxes?”

“Lemme alone, I’m crippled.” Vinyl pouted, Lyra giggled more.

“Who woulda thought, tough gal Scratch is just a big ol’ soft-OW!” Lyra yelped as Bon Bon lightly smacked her in the shoulder.

“Oh be nice, besides, I think it’s very sweet.” The crème-coated mare smiled, which only made Vinyl blush more.

“Shoot me now.” Vinyl grumbled earning a snicker from Octavia.  “Tavi, did you talk to Dawn? “ she asked, looking over to the cellist.  Octavia’s blood ran cold, three sets of eyes fixating on her, Lyra and Bon Bon sharing a nervous look while Vinyl looked curious.  

“Uhm, yes.  Yes I met with her.” Octavia reluctantly admitted.

“How’d it go?” Vinyl smiled, Octavia’s tone making her nervous.

Octavia bit her lip uncomfortably.  “Vinyl,” she started, taking the unicorn’s hoof in hers.  “Dawn.  She…well, um…” she cleared her throat and took a breath, “She’s um... if-if she doesn’t get the 2000 bit deposit back, then…then she’s going to, um… auction your gear.” Octavia’s heart broke as she watched Vinyl’s world shattering in her eyes.  

“Oh honey,” Bon Bon took Vinyl’s limp hoof in her own.  Lyra fought to keep her face neutral, her hoof reassuringly stroking Vinyl’s mane.

“I’m sorry,” Octavia whimpered “I’m so sorry, Vinyl.  I’m so sorry I let you down agai-“ Her words were silenced by Vinyl’s magic grip.  Her ruby eyes flooded with tears.  Several times Vinyl opened her mouth to speak; yet she couldn’t find the words.  Octavia leaned down and pressed her forehead against Vinyl’s, the gauze wrap that still bandaged Vinyl’s head feeling odd against Octavia’s fur.  Held by her lover and her friends, the only sound Vinyl could make was a choked cry.  The minutes blended together in a haze as the three mares held Vinyl close.  Her soft sobs slowly fading to silence.  A gentle knock on the door drew their attention.  

“Ah, Octavia.  Just the mare I was hoping to see.” Dr. Poultice smiled, his chipper attitude faltering somewhat as he took in the scene before him.  “Is something wrong?”

“Just some bad news about Vinyl’s work.” Octavia said as she extricated herself from Vinyl. 

“Ah, I see.  I’m terribly sorry to hear that Vinyl.” He sympathized as he checked her vitals.  The alabaster unicorn didn’t respond.  “Is your pain still gone, Vinyl?” he asked.

“…Yeah.” She answered quietly.  

“Well then, things are looking up a little at least.” He offered, earning an unimpressed grunt from Vinyl.

“What is it you wanted to see me about?” Octavia inquired.

“Well, now that Vinyl’s nerves seem to have settled we need to discuss the next phase of her treatment.” The stallion explained.  He glanced at Bon Bon and Lyra, “Would you like your friends to leave or do you want them to stay while we discuss this?”

“Vinyl, would you like Lyra and Bon Bon to stay?” Octavia asked.

“…Sure.” The unicorn answered softly.  Poultice quirked an eyebrow at Vinyl’s lackadaisical attitude, but didn’t mention it.

“The next step as we’ve mentioned before is to repair the herniated discs in your neck.  We will do that surgically.” He levitated a pen out of his jacket pocket and tapped it against the front of Vinyl’s collar “the procedure is called an anterior cervical discectomy and spine fusion.  In English, that means that we will make a small incision on the front of your neck, usually the left side, and we will remove the herniated discs.  Then the surgeons will then put in a bone graft into the empty space that will fuse the vertebrae together.  You will lose some of your range of motion, but since we are only fusing two vertebrae, the loss of motion should be fairly minimal.”  He paused before continuing, a look of concern forming in his features.  “Miss, are you alright?” he asked.  Octavia turned to see Lyra, looking decidedly pale.  Her pupils constricted to tiny pinpricks.

“Yea, I think I’m just gonna paaaaah-” she fell sideways, only to be caught in Poultice’s magic.

“Lyra!” Bon Bon and Octavia shouted.  Poultice rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance.

“What?  What’s happening?” Vinyl demanded nervously.

“Why is it that squeamish ponies never speak up?” Poultice asked nobody in particular.  Using his magic to lay her on the small couch he disappeared into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a wet washcloth that he deposited over Lyra’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Bon Bon started, “She’s never had a problem with blood before.”

“It’s alright miss, surgical talk tends to make a lot of ponies, uh, uncomfortable.  Keep that compress over her eyes and she’ll be fine in a few minutes.  Now, where was I?” he put a hoof to his chin to think “Ah, yes.  The surgery itself if surprisingly simple, most procedures only take three to five hours, and there is an extremely high rate of success.  Most ponies also report very little post-operative pain.  That said you would be on a liquid diet for a couple days just for safety. Any questions?”

“Who would do this surgery?” Octavia asked.

“I would,” Poultice answered. “I did one this morning as a matter of fact.  To date in my career I’ve personally performed this procedure around two hundred times and assisted on many more.”  He allowed himself a small show of pride.

“When would you do it?” she followed up.

“We could pencil Vinyl in for tomorrow morning at 7:00 if that’s what she wanted.”  He answered.  Octavia felt her heart clench nervously.

“What would you like Vinyl?” she asked as her hoof rested on Vinyl’s shoulder.

“…Okay…yea.   That would be, uh, yeah.” Vinyl replied nervously.  Poultice nodded.


“Alright, I will make the arrangements.  Have you ever had a surgery for anything, Vinyl?”

“N-no.” she replied.

“Ahh, well don’t worry, they aren’t nearly as scary as you might have thought.  What will happen is that tomorrow morning around 6:00 the anesthesiologist will come in and talk with you, then around seven the nurses will take you back to the operating room.  Octavia can follow us down to the surgical suite, but then she will be taken to a waiting room until you’re done.  

Once you’re in the room the anesthesiologist will give you some medicine to make you sleepy, then you’ll have a nice nap, and when you wake up you will be in a recovery room.  You won’t remember a thing, and you’ll be swimming in painkillers for the better part of the day.  Basically you’ll be the happiest mare in Equestria for about twelve hours.  Sound good?”  He smiled to her, earning a nervous grin in return.  

“What happens after all that?” Octavia asked.

“Well, Vinyl will take it easy for a few days, and we’ll keep a close eye on her.  If everything goes well, then someone from physical therapy will come in and they will see about getting your body working again.” He explained, Octavia nodded.  “Anything else?” he asked with a kind smile.

“Nothing I can think of, what about you Vinyl?” Octavia stroked the unicorn’s foreleg.

“No…I’m good, I guess.” She answered.

“Alright then, I’ll go make the arrangements and be right back.” He started out of the room, pausing as he reached the door and turning back to point a hoof at Lyra “Don’t let her leave when she wakes up, I’ll take a look at her when I get back to make sure she’s okay.  Understand?” he stated, his tone making it clear he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“We’ll be here.” Bon Bon answered.

Disappearing out the door he left the four mares to themselves.  Lyra woke up several minutes later, more embarrassed than anything.  Half an hour later Poultice returned and, after giving Lyra a quick exam and a sugar cookie, ordered all of them to get some rest.  Lyra and Bon Bon stayed with Octavia and Vinyl for several hours before leaving again.  Vinyl remained largely silent for the remainder of the day, lost in her thoughts.  Eventually she asked Octavia to play for her again, which the earth pony happily obliged.  That night, neither mare slept.  

True to his promise, at 6:00 in the morning a knock at the door startled both mares from their daze.  A dark blue unicorn stallion wearing sea foam green surgical scrubs trotted in, his whole attitude far too chipper for such an early hour.

“Gooooood Morning ladies!” he grinned broadly, earning a shudder of horror from both mares.  He was a perky morning pony. “I’m Dr. Green Fields, I’ll be Vinyl’s anesthesiologist this fiiine morning.” He drawled.

“Fine and morning do not belong in the same sentence.” Vinyl groaned, earning a chuckle from Green Fields.

“Have you ever had any anesthetic before, Vinyl?”  He asked as he read her chart, noting her age, height, and weight.

“No.” she answered.

“I assume you have no dentures, contacts, or oral piercings?” he asked.

“No sir.” She answered again.

“Good, good.” He put her chart down.  “Alright, here’s what will happen.  In a little bit the nurses will come and wheel you down to surgery.  Once you’re in there I’ll give you an injection of a little doggie bag of drugs, antibiotics, pain meds, stuff like that.  That injection will make you feel very, very good.  After that Dr. Poultice will come in and we’ll put a mask on your muzzle, then you take a nap and we get to work.  Nice and easy!” he grinned.

“Uh, okay…” Vinyl glanced nervously at Octavia.

“Where will I be?” the earth pony asked.

“A nurse will show you to the waiting room, until then you can stay with Vinyl.” He answered, Octavia nodded.

“Alright, I’ll see you soon Vinyl.” He said as he disappeared back out the door.

For a few minutes there was silence.

“Tavi?” Vinyl asked softly.

“Yes, love?” She answered, the concern etched on her face.

“I…I’m scared Tavi.” She admitted.  Octavia frowned and kissed Vinyl’s forehead.

“So am I,” she whispered “so am I.  But I’ll be here for you, and I swear I’ll be there when you wake up.”

Vinyl laughed softly “You’re all I’ve got left, Tavi.  I’m so sorry I’ve put you through all this.”

“Don’t be sorry, Vinyl.” Octavia kissed Vinyl’s nose “We’ll get through this, together.”

A knock at the door and two earth pony nurses interrupted them.

“Are we all ready?” one of them asked with a kindly smile.  Vinyl gulped nervously and used her magic to tug Octavia close.

“I love you Tavi, I love you so much.” She whispered

“I love you too, Vinyl.  Don’t worry, Poultice is a good stallion, he’ll take care of you in there.”  She smiled back.

After one last kiss, the two separated so the nurses could take hold of the bed.  Unlocking the brakes they began wheeling it out of the room and down the hall.  Octavia followed just behind until they reached a set of large aluminum doors with a sign above them labeled ‘SURGERY’.  A third nurse, who had been waiting for them there, escorted Octavia away.

Vinyl’s heart raced as they wheeled her into the cold surgical suite.  Bright lights seemed to surround her as did all types of ponies, each covered from head to tail in scrubs.  Green Fields smiled at her from behind a surgical mask. 

“Hiya Vinyl, how do you feel?” he asked.

“Scared out of my mind.” She answered through chattering teeth.  Green Fields chuckled softly.

“I think I can help with that.” He said as he fitted a sytringe into her IV line.  Within seconds a feeling of warmth filled Vinyl’s body.  The ceiling seemed to list back and forth before her eyes and a sense of giddiness filled her.

“Whooooaaaaaah.” She felt herself relax even with the multiple ponies moving around her.  Dr. Fields chuckled.

“They all say that.” He remarked.

“Can I have some of this to take home?” Vinyl slurred, “This stuff is sweet.” 

Fields laughed out loud. “Sorry kiddo, you gotta enjoy it while it lasts.”

Vinyl’s attention was distracted as Dr. Poultice entered her vision.

“Morning Vinyl, how’s the doggie bag treating you?” he asked.

“Awesome.” She breathed.

“Excellent, let’s get this show on the road.”  He nodded to Dr. Fields.

“Alright Vinyl,” Dr. fields placed a clear plastic mask over her snout.  “I want you to take nice deep breaths and count down from ten for me, okay?”

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six,” she counted, her head starting to feel funny.  The ponies around her sounded increasingly distant.  She didn’t notice as her mouth stopped working.

Five…

Four…

Three..

Two…

Her world went black.

> Interlude - Ghosts of Dawn
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Authors note: Chapter 6 (proper) will likely be delayed a bit as I’ve just started a new job in addition to my penultimate semester of college.  Until then, here’s a little something to hold you all over.  ~ Ruirik

---

As the sun slowly dipped towards the horizon, the crepuscular rays shimmering proudly through the gaps in the cloudy skies; the ponies of Manehatten retreated to their homes for the cool spring night.  Dawn Chaser did her best to ignore the masses as she made her way though the crowded streets, her thoughts far from her immediate world.   Wrapped loosely around her neck was a simple black scarf.  The little comfort it offered from the chill of spring air was a welcome enough distraction from Dawn’s more pressing thoughts.

She had left The Watering Hole under the watchful eyes of Jam Sessions and Silver Lining for the night, taking a rare evening for herself.  The heated conversation she had engaged in with the mare that had identified herself as Vinyl’s fiancé still burned brightly in her mind.  Wincing visibly, Dawn did her best to push the confrontation from her mind.  

Her pace quickened to a canter as if a faster pace would het her escape the unpleasant memories.  The pungent odor of the city threatened to overwhelm her as she moved from borough to borough.  Markets and sewers, perfumes and sweat, all commingled into the unique potpourri of the Manehatten smell.  Like an emulsion, it hung thickly in the air about her.  Despite her better efforts, there simply was no growing used to it. 

Her walk brought her to one of the many park-like areas that were dotted across the city.  A tall ironwork gate heralded the entrance, its rusted metal frame announcing the name of Forest Home Cemetery for all to see.  Dawn hesitated in front of the iron gates.  Inside she could see a few ponies here and there, some walking, others sitting reflectively in front of a headstone.  Dawn seriously considered running.  To go inside meant confronting those unpleasant memories, but given what had happened earlier with the grey mare, she realized that there wasn’t any avoiding them now.

With a breath to calm herself, she stepped into the hallowed grounds.   The plot she was looking for was a fair walk from the entrance.  She hated that.  It gave her too much time to think, too much time to maintain the wall built around her heart.  The closer she got the more her heart raced within her chest.  The sweet air of spring, normally so warm and nurturing, felt cold and empty.  Her jaw trembled and her throat clenched as she crested a small hill where she found it.  Under a budding willow tree, a simple headstone carved from granite.   The front had been polished to a shine, though the luster had faded over the years while the sides and back had been left intentionally unfinished.  Engraved into the headstone was ‘Center Frequency’.  Dawn forced a smile, her hoof gently brushing leaves off of the gravestone.

“Hi Center,” she started gingerly.  “I’m sorry I haven’t visited in a while.” She bit her lip as she sat.

“Nine years,” she sighed, her head tilting back as her gaze drifted to the clouds “nine years and it still hurts.  You know, Azure will be in the fourth grade soon, and she’s taken an interest in your old recording equipment.”

Dawn smiled at the thought of her daughter.

“You should see her smile, every bit as big and bright as yours.  She asks about you, you know.  Last week we sat on the couch and we went through the photo albums.  I showed her all the pictures of ‘mommy and daddy’ when we were dating.”  Dawn let out a sound, half a laugh, and half a cry.  Her eyes glistened in the fading light. “She doesn’t see many Pegasi at school, so she wondered why you had wings and I didn’t.  I told her it’s because you always were my angel.”

Dawn paused, taking a shaky breath and composing herself.

“She’s asking about you more lately.  I’m terrified of the day she will look me in the eye and ask where you are.”  She sighed, her head bowing “I try to be strong, I try to keep my chin up and my eyes forward, but…but it’s just so hard without you.”

The stone remained silent, a chill wind swept through the graveyard, sending shivers through Dawn.

“I’ve kept the club running for you.  It’s been hard, but it was your dream, so I’ve done my best.  We’re…we’re having a bad run though.  The bigger clubs are bagging more and more of the talent.  If it keeps up, I’m not sure if I’ll have to cut back on the staff, though that would only buy us a few months to a year.”

Dawn rubbed the moisture from her eyes.

“I’ve got a problem, and I have no idea what to do anymore.” She sighed tiredly, her ears folding back. “I managed to book this unicorn, Vinyl Scratch.  She’s a new talent on the scene, but also one of the best I’ve ever seen.  I took a risk and managed to arrange a deal.  I figured if we…if I made a heavy investment into advertising, I could leverage her fans to get us back in the black and out of debt.  I was really hoping this would be the break we needed.  Then she was a no show.

I thought she took the deposit and ran.  I was so mad, Center.  So mad I couldn’t think straight.  All the preshow tickets had to be refunded, I had to spend hours apologizing to angry ponies thinking I had tried to scam them, and this random mare shows up telling me that Vinyl’s in the hospital!”

Dawn laughed bitterly.

“I was so convinced she was lying to me.  That Vinyl paid her off to get her gear back and complete some weird scam.  I acted like a donkey.  Then, just today, another mare shows up who claims to be Vinyl’s fiancé.  I panicked,” she smiled “you’d probably laugh at me for it.   Stupid.  Stupid, stupid, stupid!” she growled, smacking herself in the forehead repeatedly.

Tears escaped her eyes, dripping from her face and onto the soft grass below her.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, Center.” She whimpered “If I don’t auction the gear Vinyl left at the club, then the advertising debts might kill the club.  If I do sell it, the club stays afloat, but I’ve probably killed somepony’s career.  Either way, I can’t win.”  She sniffled, wiping a foreleg across her face.

“I want our daughter to grow up and see your dream.  I want her to have the option to take it over when she’s old enough, but…but I don’t know if I can ruin another pony’s life to do it.”

Dawn pressed her forehead against the deathly cold stone, wincing uncomfortably at the flash of memories the touch brought.

“What would you have done, Center?  How would you fix this?”

The stone didn’t answer, it never did.

“I miss you, I miss you so much.” She whispered, gently kissing the headstone.  “I’ll see you again soon, Center.  Azure wants to plant some flowers for you.  So she’ll visit too.  Maybe…maybe by then, I’ll figure something out.”  She smiled sadly, her hoof brushing over the polished face of the gravestone. “Sleep well, my love.”
> Hurry Up and Wait
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

How many times had she heard that infernal sound?  That irritable, grating, ceaseless sound that cloyed for attention like a junior level pedantic director who thought he could tell the difference between a sharped C and a flatted D.  Pressing a hoof against her eyes, Octavia gritted her teeth to stifle a shout of frustration.  The monotonous tick, tick, tick ground at her nerves like a file.  Oh, how she fantasized about the tortures to unleash upon the auditory cancer that was the analog clock.  To gingerly lift it away from it’s precarious perch on the wall, place it on the floor with the utmost care, and return with the largest hammer she could get a hold of, heave it over her head and-

“-tavia?  Oi!  Octavia!”

Octavia shook her head vigorously to snap herself back to reality.  Lyra and Bon Bon stared at her, Bon Bon with mild concern, Lyra with mild irritation.  Both had a set of cards held close to their chests.  All three of them were in a wide-open waiting room just off of the surgical suite.  Like every room in the hospital, the walls had been painted a neutral tan color.  The floor was assembled from large white tiling set into charcoal-colored grout.  Much like the ER waiting room two fake hibiscus plants were placed in the corners of the room.  The plants flanked a couch long enough to seat four ponies.  Its soft green cushions offered a fair level of comfort for the countless ponies that were forced to wait in the room for news of their loved ones.

“Sorry, what?” Octavia asked sheepishly.  Bon Bon chuckled while Lyra rolled her eyes and groaned.

“I said,” repeated Lyra “Do you have any threes?”

Octavia blinked in confusion for a moment, the gears in her brain stuck awkwardly for a moment before she recalled the cards in her own hooves.

“Uh…Go fish.” She finally answered as she studied her hand.

Lyra grumbled and retrieved a fresh card from the deck placed between the three mares.  Bon Bon regarded her friend with concern.

“Octavia, are you all right?” she reached out with a hoof, lightly resting it on the cellist’s shoulder.  Octavia flinched at the touch and sighed.

“Yes.  Yes I’m fine.” She answered quietly “I’m just worried about Vinyl.”

Bon Bon offered Octavia a reassuring smile “They did say three to five hours yesterday dear, it’s only been four.  She should be out soon.”

Octavia managed a nod, though she couldn’t force herself to take comfort in Bon Bon’s optimism.  She was at least grateful Lyra and Bon Bon had come to keep her company during Vinyl’s operation.  She may not have been a particular fan of Go Fish, finding it a touch simplistic compared to Blackjack or Poker, but Lyra had insisted on it, claiming the game was good for ‘wasting time’.  Still, she had indulged the unicorn, and the simple game had helped to stave off the pervasive boredom and anxiety for a while, at least until Octavia’s more obsessive tendencies had honed in on the tick of the clock.

Every tick was a moment lost.  An instant of her life she would never retrieve, crueler still, an instant she could never share with Vinyl.  The countless precious seconds of life passed her in a colorless blur.  Without Vinyl beside her, each moment felt empty and cold.   Lyra and Bon Bon tried their best to offer her light in the metaphorical darkness, yet all their efforts only managed to flicker like candles in the wind.

“It’s your turn, dear.” Bon Bon reminded her.  Octavia bit back a sigh and looked over her hand again.

“Do you have any sevens?” She asked Bon Bon.  With a light grumble, the crème-colored earth pony hoofed a pair of cards to her.

A gentle knock startled all three mares from their game.  Standing just inside the door was a tired-looking Poultice, still dressed in his scrubs. 

“Am I interrupting?” He asked with a good-natured smile.

“No!  No,” Octavia hurriedly got to her hooves, her heart racing in her chest. “How did it go?  Is Vinyl all right?  Can I see her?”

Poultice found himself leaning back slightly from the sudden barrage of questions.  His somewhat bemused reaction earning a giggle from Lyra and Bon Bon.

“Well,” he started, “The surgery went well overall.  We successfully removed the herniated discs and the bone graft was placed with no complications.  Vinyl’s spinal cord is intact and looks fairly good considering the trauma she’s endured.  We got her stitched, bandaged, and we took her into the recovery room nearly an hour ago.  I would have come and spoken to you sooner, but Vinyl isn’t waking up as well as we’d like from the anesthetic.”

Octavia felt a wave of cold run through her body. “W-what do you mean.  Is she okay?”

“Relax, relax,” he said calmly, raising a hoof to emphasize his words “Her vitals are strong and she’s breathing on her own, Dr. Fields is keeping a close eye on her.  It’s just that some ponies do not react as well to anesthesia as others do.  Vinyl is waking up, but it is taking longer than we like to see.  The thing we have to concern ourselves with now is the risk of post-operative pneumonia.  Now in healthy ponies that risk is very small, but given Vinyl’s condition I’m not going to take any chances.  We’ll keep her in intensive care until I’m satisfied she’s in the clear.”

“How would she catch pneumonia?  Aren’t hospitals sterile?” Octavia asked, feeling a bit dumb for asking.  Poultice merely smiled, he loved his work, and he loved when a pony wasn’t afraid to ask a question.

“We’re not entirely sure what causes it, about one in a thousand ponies comes down with it after surgery though.  We think it’s either a negative reaction to the anesthesia or possibly correlated with the prolonged amount of time a pony spends prone on their back.  You see, when you’re lying down for a prolonged period of time, fluid pools in your lungs.  In ponies that are prone for a long time the natural bacteria found in all of our lungs has a chance to cause an infection.  Given Vinyl’s paralysis, her chances of pneumonia are higher than I would like.”

Octavia’s eyes shifted back and forth, her mind spinning as she processed the information.  Lyra stepped up beside the grey mare, her concern apparent on her face.

“Isn’t there anything you can give her?  Like some pills or something to, I don’t know, stop anything?” she asked.  The question earned an amused chortle from Poultice.

“As wondrous as modern medicine has become, we still have a lot to learn.  We may not be able to prevent disease, but we certainly can treat it.” He smiled.

“So, so what happens now?” Octavia asked, her shoulders sagging.  Bon Bon noticed the shift in her posture, though she kept silent for the moment.

“Well,” Poultice started, taking a breath to consider his words “Once Dr. Fields is satisfied that Vinyl is ready, we will take her back to her room and she can sleep off the effects of the anesthesia.  She’ll be out of it the rest of the day, easily, and starting tomorrow we just need to keep an eye out for infection.”

Octavia nodded sullenly, when she spoke again her voice was quiet. “What can I expect to see?”

“Well, she will have a sore throat for a few days and some difficulty speaking and swallowing, hence the liquid diet we discussed yesterday, and she has a small incision on her right hip where we harvested the bone graft that will probably be a bit sore.  Aside from that be on the look out for any sign of nausea, confusion, or a high fever.  Octavia,” he turned his attention to the cellist.  Her lavender eyes locked with his “You know Vinyl better than all of us.  I’m counting on you to let us know if anything seems off.  I don’t care how insignificant it might seem, I’d rather not chance it with a mare in her condition.”

“Will she be able to move again now?” Octavia asked hopefully.  Poultice kept his face neutral.

“She has a chance now.  It’s more than she did before, but we’ve still got a long way to go.  With a lot of therapy, I have confidence that she will at least regain use of her forelegs and will be able to sit up.  She’s young, she’s generally healthy, and she’s got a lot of willpower, so I think she’s got a good chance of getting some use out of her rear legs as well.” He explained, hesitating at the end.

“…But?” Octavia asked meekly, Poultice shifted uncomfortably.

“I don’t want to give you false hope.  There is a very real possibility that Vinyl will never walk again.  I’m sorry.”  He bowed his head slightly.  “We won’t know for sure either way for a while yet.  Until then you’ve got to keep your chins up and hope for the best.  We’ve got a fantastic team of physical therapists here."

Octavia nodded.  Poultice smiled, “Any other questions?” he asked the three mares.  When none were asked he nodded simply and turned to leave.

“I’m going to check and see how Vinyl is recovering.  I will be back shortly.  I promise.”  He smiled.  The three mares each nodded, Octavia giving him her thanks before he disappeared out the door again.  Octavia loosed a heavy sigh as she sat, a hoof rubbing over her eyes.  

Bon Bon put a gentle hoof on her shoulder.  “What’s the matter, Octavia?”

Octavia was silent for a moment, the only sound being her deep breaths and the ticking of the clock.  Bon Bon and Lyra exchanged a nervous glance.  

“Tavi?” Lyra spoke anxiously, her own hoof rubbing the earth pony’s back.  She felt the subtle tremor in Octavia’s flesh and noticed the quivering of her friend’s jaw.

“Its not fair…” Octavia spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper.  “Its just not fair.”

“Hey now,” Lyra pulled Octavia into a hug “come here.  It’s gonna be okay.”

“She doesn’t deserve this,” Octavia whimpered “She didn’t do anything to deserve this!”  Octavia let out a quiet sob into Lyra’s chest.  Bon Bon sat next to her marefriend, wrapping her forelegs around both mares.  “Why did this have to happen to her?” she cried.

Lyra’s amber eyes looked pleadingly into Bon Bon’s, unsure of what to do or say.  Octavia managed to compose herself after a few moments, pushing away from Lyra’s chest with one hoof while the other wiped at her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Come on,” Lyra said as she wrapped her left foreleg around Octavia’s shoulders “It’s okay to be upset Octavia.  Celestia knows I wouldn’t be half as calm as you if it was Bonnie in there.”

Both earth ponies shared a giggle at the comment, though Bon Bon shot Lyra a knowing wink.  Octavia’s sullen chuckle faded quickly.

“I don’t know what I’d do without the two of you here.  It’s just so…difficult.” Octavia sighed again, her head bowing down “Between worrying about Vinyl, and that…that mare stealing Vinyl’s gear over a pittance.” Octavia hissed.

“Oh, don’t get me started on her,” Bon Bon pressed a hoof to her temple in aggravation at the thought of the yellow mare, “The world would be better without terrible ponies like that."  Octavia scoffed agreeably.

“Things will work themselves out in the end, you’ll see.” Lyra said hopefully.  Octavia appreciated the sentiment, even if she couldn’t bring herself to share in the unicorn’s optimism.  Again, the gentle knock of Dr. Poultice’s hoof on the door drew their attentions away from each other.

“Hello again.” He smiled, stepping into the room with a slight spring to his gait.

“How is Vinyl?” Octavia asked, her hooves rubbing together anxiously.

“Vinyl seems to be coming around now.  Dr. Fields is going to keep an eye on her for a little longer before sending her back to her room.  The three of you are free to head back up there at any time, she should be along in the next 30 or 45 minutes I would think.” Poultice smiled at the noticeable wave of relief that washed over all three mares.  “Oh, by the way: Octavia, did you do some planting recently?” 

Octavia, Lyra, and Bon Bon exchanged a perplexed look with one another before Octavia stepped forward to answer.

“Uh, no not really.  Why?” she answered, a grin spread over Poultice’s face as he struggled not to laugh.

“When I asked Vinyl how she was feeling,” he chuckled “She mumbled something along the lines of ‘Did Tavi plant her crops yet?’ before she fell back to sleep.”

Lyra and Bonnie shared a giggle while Octavia felt herself at the peculiar crossroads of amusement and concern.  Poultice noticed the look and patted her shoulder reassuringly.

“It’s normal for ponies to be confused and a bit nonsensical when the anesthesia is wearing off.  Her head will clear up after a few hours of good sleep.” He explained 

Octavia let out a relieved sigh.  Poultice offered them all a soft smile. “You three go on upstairs, Vinyl will be there soon.”

As he left, the three mares gathered their saddlebags and the small entertainments they had brought with them hours earlier.  The walk back up to Vinyl’s room was silent aside from the sound of their own steps.  The room itself seemed so empty without Vinyl’s bed occupying it.  The silent monitors and machines that hung from the wall sent an uncomfortable chill through Octavia.  

Taking a seat on the small couch she slipped a hoof into her saddlebag.  She blindly groped around the confines of the bag for a moment before her hoof settled on the Beethooven that Vinyl had left her.   Octavia felt her nerves calm somewhat as her hoof rested against the dolls soft body.  Lyra and Bon Bon sat close by, with Lyra reclining lightly against the confectioner's shoulder.

“So,” Bon Bon started, trying to fill the silence “When do you two have your first show with the symphony?  I’ll make sure my schedule is free to sit with Vinyl so you won’t need to worry, Octavia.”

The two musicians mulled the question for a moment, Lyra coming to the answer first “Our first show is in six days, so that makes it Wednesday next week.  Right?” she looked to Octavia.

“Yes.  Yes, Wednesday from Six o’clock to Nine o’clock, including intermission.” She frowned.  The thought of leaving Vinyl’s side for any amount of time left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“That should be fine, what time do you girls need to leave?” Bon Bon asked.

“Uh, we have to be there for tune up and final practice at three I think.” Lyra answered.  Octavia nodded in agreement.

“Alright, I’ll be here around two.  Is that alright Octavia?” She asked as her gaze shifted from Lyra to her fellow earth pony.

Octavia thought for a moment before she nodded “Yes, alright.  Thank you Bon Bon.”

The crème-furred mare smiled kindly and nodded.  Silence again descended over the room.  Lyra fell into a light snooze on Bon Bon’s shoulder while Octavia stared absently at the floor, her mind unfocused on any particular thought.  Normally when she was preparing for a concert, Octavia was brimming with excitement.  Her mind would focus on the task with laser like precision until the last note of the last song had faded from her immediate memory.  Granted, Vinyl usually played a rather prominent role in the distraction as well.  Without the pale unicorn waiting for her just off-stage, Octavia found her mind drifting.  There was no excitement in her heart to perform her art in front of hundreds of other ponies.  It was just a nuisance that she would be put upon to do. 

There was a quick knock at the door before Dr. Fields trotted in, smiling as always.  Behind him, a pair of earth pony nurses delicately maneuvered Vinyl’s bed back into position.  The three quickly reattached her to the monitoring equipment, filling the room with the steady rhythm of Vinyl’s heart.  The sound sent a subtle, but powerful wave of relief through Octavia.  It was an audible confirmation that her love was still with her.  The nearly five hours it had been since seeing Vinyl had felt like a small eternity to the cellist.  Her heart clenched in her chest when she was able to get a good look at Vinyl. 

A fresh white sheet covered the unicorn up to her shoulders, though the slow rise and fall of her chest was still visible which Octavia was grateful for.  A new cervical collar held her neck in traction.  Where the previous one had nearly matched her fur in color, the new one was an iron grey outside with black padding on the inside.  The frame of the collar itself was more open along the arterial sides of Vinyl’s neck, which gave Octavia a good view of the bandage that concealed the surgical incision itself, though she could see that the fur on that side of Vinyl’s neck had been shaved away, exposing the skin below.  There was some small evidence of dry blood along the area, though most had been well cleaned up before they had bandaged her.

Vinyl’s mouth hung open slightly, her breaths occasionally interrupted by dry coughs.  Her ruby eyes were hidden behind her heavy eyelids as she slept.  Octavia longed to look into Vinyl’s eyes again, to see the torrent of emotions that roiled within the unicorn like a silent hurricane.  The bandage on Vinyl’s forehead had been removed, giving Octavia her first good view at the wound.  The gash was held together by dozens of stitches.  Dried blood formed a painful looking canyon nearly three inches long.  Octavia hoped that once healed, any scarring would be concealed by Vinyl’s fur or mane.  

She gingerly ran her hoof though Vinyl’s mane once she was able to get close enough.  Octavia had grown used to Vinyl’s, admittedly, loose definition of personal grooming; a shower every other day or so no longer flabbergasted Octavia like it did in the early days of their relationship.  Yet even Vinyl would have admitted her coat and mane made her look like a train wreck.  The two nurses excused themselves from the room as they finished their tasks, leaving Dr. Fields alone with the three.

He smiled to Octavia as he finished writing notes in her chart “She had a little trouble waking up from the anesthesia, which is why we kept her a little longer than normal in recovery.  She’s doing fine now, she’ll sleep off the rest of the effects and should be on the road to recovery first thing tomorrow.”

Octavia nodded, her mind feeling slightly more at ease about things.  Another raw cough escaped Vinyl’s throat, drawing Octavia’s attention.  The worry was written plainly on her face for Dr. Fields.

“That cough is a normal reaction for post-op ponies.  It’s an esophageal reaction to the intubation process.  Don’t worry about it unless it gets worse in the next twenty-four hours.” He explained.

Octavia nodded slightly, her ears folding back “Oh.  Alright.”

“Dr. Poultice has another surgery to do, but he’ll be up again later to check up on her.  Anything you need in the meantime?” he asked.

“Um, yes.” Octavia started a bit hesitantly “Who would I speak to about helping Vinyl get cleaned up a bit?”

Fields nodded, him ever present smile still affixed on his face “Just speak with the one of the nurses and they’ll set it up.”

“Alright, thank you for everything.” She offered a smile in return.  Fields grinned widely before taking his leave of the room.

Octavia sighed wearily.  Bon Bon sat beside her and patted her back lightly.  Lyra kept a conspicuous distance from the bed

“The worst is over,” she said to Octavia “Things can only go up from here.” 

Octavia nodded “I hope so.  I really do.”

“Say, uh…I’m gonna go get some fresh air!” Lyra piped up suddenly.  She didn’t wait for a response before ducking out of the room, her fur a shade or two lighter than it’s normal color.  Octavia and Bon Bon exchanged a confused glance.

Lyra trotted away from the room as fast as she could without looking too out of place.  When it had been Bon Bon with a cut and some stitches, Lyra had been fine.  Something about the nature of Vinyl’s issues injuries, perhaps the scale, volume, or the smell of hospital antiseptics was making her feel sick.  The last thing she needed was to keel over again.  It had been bad enough with Bon Bon fretting over her all night and into the morning before they had arrived at the hospital.  Celestia forbid if Vinyl ever found out she fainted.  Lyra would never live it down.

Lyra growled in aggravation as she made her way downstairs.  A bit of fresh air to clear her head was just what she needed.  Then, she could go back up to Vinyl’s room and be as supportive as she was needed to be.  Passing several nurses and doctors who were engaged in some kind of conversation, Lyra inattentively pushed her way out the doors where she walked, horn first, into an unfortunate filly’s backside.  The humor of the filly’s surprised yelp was lost on Lyra as she realized what happened

“Whoa!” she blurted as she came to a sudden halt, “I’m so sorry!  Are you all-oooh my…”her apology died on her lips as she beheld the scene before her. 

The crowed looked to number somewhere between one or two hundred ponies.  Pegasi, unicorns, and earth ponies choked off the street as well as the spacious garden in front of the hospital.  The filly Lyra had unceremoniously run into, a unicorn who looked to be in her late teens with a sandy brown coat and a short brunette mane glared at Lyra in mild annoyance, her sapphire eyes narrowed as she regarded the mint-green unicorn.  Lyra couldn’t shake the feeling that she looked vaguely familiar.

“Wow,” Lyra marveled at the mass of ponies before her, most engaged in quiet conversations “You guys weren’t here when I came in this morning.  What happened?  Are the Princesses visiting the hospital or something?”

The mare’s annoyed look relaxed as she chuckled a bit “No, no, we’re just here hoping to provide some moral support.”

“Oh, uh, alright.  I’m really sorry I ran into you, by the way.  I wasn’t paying attention.” Lyra apologized properly.  The filly waved her hoof dismissively.

“It’s cool.” She responded before offering her hoof to Lyra “I’m Toccata.”

Lyra stared at the filly dumbly, the similarities suddenly snapping into place.

“Your dad wouldn’t happen to be the conductor Allegro would he?” She asked coyly.  Toccata blushed fiercely.

“Don’t say that so loud!” she hissed quietly “So embarrassing…” She mumbled as she facehoofed.  Lyra stifled a giggle and extended her hoof out towards the other unicorn.  Toccata pressed her hoof against it and shook politely.

“I’m Lyra Heartstings, I’m one of the musicians working with your dad on the current tour.” She said with a proud smile.  Toccata gasped loudly, her hoof recoiling from Lyra’s to cover her gaping mouth.

“Dad told me about you!” She exclaimed, her voice hushing significantly for her next words “You talked to him about Vinyl, that’s who we’re all here for.”

“Wai-What?!” Lyra gawped, her jaw hitting the ground and her eyes getting wide.

“Yeah, dad told my brother and I what happened.  We’re big fans so we told a few of our friends and well,” she looked over her shoulder at the large crowd “word kinda got around…” She grinned sheepishly.

“You don’t say.” Lyra deadpanned.  “When did you all get here?”

“Well, my brother, Fugue, and I came about two hours ago.  We’d planned to drop off some flowers and a card, but when we showed up all these ponies were here too.  There’s a few journalists poking around too, I think they’ve lost interest though.  I haven’t seen them for a while…or my brother, come to think of it.”  She looked around the crowed again; her lips pursed in mild annoyance “Not sure where my brother got off to.  Probably ran off to flirt with some mare.”

Lyra chuckled and shook her head.  She and Bon Bon always got hit on whenever they left Ponyville.  Part of the benefit of living in a small town meant every eligible bachelor knew they were taken with each other.  That privacy had been the main reason Octavia had agreed to move in to Vinyl’s Ponyville home rather than the both of them finding an apartment in Canterlot or Manehatten. 

“Have you seen her?  How is she?” Toccata interrupted Lyra’s silent musings.  The mint-green unicorn bit her lip and thought of the best way to answer the question without violating Vinyl’s privacy. 

“Well, um, she’s sleeping right now.” She answered honestly, Toccata nodded.

“I know she can’t take visitors, hospital security made that very clear.” Toccata glanced past Lyra at one of the security stallions by the door. “Do you think you could just tell her we’re all here for her?”

“Sure, um, lemme go ask her spouse.” Lyra said vaguely “I’m kinda not in a position to give you any details.” 

“Hey, it’s cool.” Toccata smiled “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone we talked until you get back.”

Lyra nodded and excused herself back into the hospital.  Rather than go right up to Vinyl’s room she made a detour to the nearest restroom.  She meandered her way over to the sink where she opened the cold-water tap.  The rush of the cool liquid into the porcelain basin echoed through the tiled room.  Lyra stared at herself in the mirror.  She couldn’t let Octavia or Bonnie walk into that throng unprepared.  Vinyl and Octavia had kept their relationship extremely private.  It wasn't that they were afraid to be seen publicly together so much as they strongly believed that their private lives were just that; private.  Plus Vinyl was exceedingly protective of Octavia and her career.  She did everything she could to keep their love tight-lipped so that Octavia couldn’t be blacklisted in the classical music circuits.  

Lyra was lucky; Bon Bon’s work was more than profitable enough to support them both without the comparative pittance of money Lyra’s street shows or private shows were able to yield.  Allegro was one of the few conductors in the industry who didn’t care what his musicians did in the bedroom so long as they were nothing less than excellent with their instruments. 

Gathering water in her magic, Lyra splashed the cold fluid over her face, gasping as the chill cut through her fur and seeped into her flesh, providing a much-needed jolt to her mind.  Sucking in a deep breath, she held it in her lungs for a moment before slowly exhaling.  Closing the tap she observed her reflection in the mirror, fur damp, eyes bright.  She observed the small condensations of water build along soaked tufts of fur, each drop building in size until it inevitably fell to the sink with a delicate splash.  Lyra sighed and shook her head lightly.  She couldn’t shake the bad feeling that had settled in her gut.  Grabbing a paper towel to dry her face she left the restroom and made her way upstairs. 

Once back in the room, she became acutely aware of something being markedly different.  It took a moment for her brain to register, as it was the absolute last sound she had expected to hear: Snoring.  A grin snaked its way across her lips as she turned to face Vinyl’s bed.  The alabaster mare’s mouth was ajar, and every breath was accentuated with a gentle snore and occasional cough.  Octavia was smiling as though the sound was the most beautiful symphony she had ever heard.  Bon Bon waved to her lover, a similar smirk on her face.

“Feeling better, dear?” she asked kindly.  Lyra offered a noncommittal shrug.

“We, uh, might have a situation outside.” Lyra started, earning a perplexed look from both mares.

“What do mean?” Octavia asked, doing her best to keep her concern at bay.  Lyra was quiet for a moment as she considered how to phrase things before deciding to just get it out there.

“There’s a couple hundred ponies out front who came to offer their support for Vinyl.  Allegro’s daughter, Toccata, she’s out front too.”

There was a very pregnant pause as Octavia and Bon Bon processed the information.  Octavia simply stood and trotted out of the room, a blank look on her face.  Lyra and Bon Bon stared at the door in silence for a few minutes before they heard the telltale clopping of hooves running across the floor just before Octavia darted back into the room, her eyes wide and slightly panicked.

“Told you.” Lyra deadpanned.

“W-what do we do?”  Octavia stuttered,  “I-I can’t go out there!  Vinyl wouldn’t want them to see her like this!”

“I know, I know.” Lyra said, her hooves raising up in a placating manner.  “That’s why I came back up here.”

Octavia sat heavily on the floor, her back pressed against the wall as she ran her hooves through her long mane.  Bon Bon moved over to her friend and wrapped a hoof around her shoulders.

“How’s about Lyra and I go talk to them.  We can make sure to be discreet for the both of you.” She lifted Octavia’s chin so she could look the other mare in the eye.  Reluctantly Octavia nodded.

“Tell them…tell them we appreciate all their thoughts and gestures and Vinyl will be back on her hooves soon.” Octavia said, her voice quiet and her thoughts elsewhere.  Bon Bon nodded and stood, Lyra stepping up beside her.

“We won’t be long.” Bon Bon said as she trotted out of the room, Lyra close behind.

Octavia pressed her hooves to her head and sighed again.  A light cough from Vinyl drew her attention back to her love.  Quickly retaking her place at the side of the bed, Octavia leaned down to kiss Vinyl’s forehead.

“Don’t leave me alone long, Vinyl.  There’s a lot of ponies outside waiting for you.”

For nearly an hour she sat alone with Vinyl, the sleeping mare’s snores and occasional coughs the only sound in the room.  When Lyra and Bon Bon returned, both mares looked slightly exasperated, particularly Lyra who had a large stack of cards and several flower baskets in her magical grasp.

“What in the world?” Octavia stared at them.

“From Vinyl’s crazy fans.” Lyra deadpanned, thrusting the cards into Octavia’s grasp.  Octavia fumbled with them for a moment before she managed to place them beside her cello case. 

“What on earth happened?”  Octavia asked while Lyra set the flowers on the windowsill.  

“Vinyl’s fans were adamant about ensuring she know’s they are ‘there for her’.” Bon Bon made air quotes sarcastically “It would have been more touching if we weren’t getting our flanks stared at or having reporters trying to get scoops on what happened.”

Octavia blushed and shook her head.

“I’m sorry you girls had to go through that.” She apologized.  Lyra waved a hoof dismissevley.

“It’s cool,” Lyra said “You two would do the same for us.”  Bon Bon nodded in agreement.  Octavia smiled, proud of the ponies she and Vinyl could call their friends.

The three spent a couple of hours looking through some of the get well cards while Vinyl slept.  Octavia felt herself feeling genuinely happy her fiancé had such an enthusiastic fanbase.  She wondered if it were her paralyzed, would the symphony goers be so kind?  As the sun set over the horizon Lyra and Bon Bon decided to head home.  Octavia walked with them down to the doors, the crowd having long since dispersed.  With a hug she bid them both goodnight and made her way back upstairs to speak with the head nurse about getting Vinyl washed.  As she reached the top of the stairs, a tan pegasus bumped into her as their paths crossed, a package he had tucked under his wing nearly slipping free from the bump.

“S’cuse me.” He mumbled as he moved quickly down the stairs.  Octavia watched him leave, wondering if he worked as a package runner.  With a shrug she resumed her walk.

‘Bon Bon’s right,’ she thought ‘the worst is over.  Finally.’

> Grey
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t often in his life that Quick Snap had a legitimate reason to find his asthma beneficial.  Life as a freelance photographer was easy enough when he had regular studio employment.  Managing his condition had been easy those days when he was in a stable environment and wasn’t forced to do much flying around to earn his pay.  Things hadn’t been so cushy in a long time though, and his lungs weren’t as tolerant of the constant flying as they used to be.  

Quick had never considered himself to be a particularly special pegasus.  His tan fur, chestnut mane, and hazel eyes left him in the category of utterly unremarkable ponies in the world.  Even with his talent for photography, his work was noted more for its lucky timing than the artistry of the shot.  Perhaps the most remarkable thing about him was his asthma.  He had been diagnosed during his first year of flight school, after a relay race had left him almost unable to breathe.  A trip to the Cloudsdale emergency room and a battery of tests later, he had been diagnosed with the condition.  Over the years it had played Discord with his life.  Few businesses wanted to hire a photographer who couldn’t fly from hotspot to hotspot at breakneck speeds, and most terrestrial studios tended to favor unicorn or earth ponies as in house photographers. 

His asthma had been the reason he had come to the hospital today.  Specifically, he needed a refill for his inhaler.  The prescription was a blow to his limited savings, but he did like to breathe, so it was a fair trade.  What he hadn’t expected was a veritable mob of ponies of all types to be milling about in front of the hospital as though the princess herself were in attendance.  Curious to see what all the fuss was about, Quick Shot approached the closest pony.  The earth pony whose should he tapped turned to regard him with a cautious smile.  Quick Shot smiled as casually as he could while resisting a cough.

“Excuse me, but what’s going on?” he managed before covering his mouth with a hoof to mute a comparatively light coughing fit.

“DJ-P0N3 is in the hospital.” The colt stated sadly.  Quick Shot felt his brain come to a temporary halt as it culled through his memories for that name.  Coming up blank, his mouth kicked in before he could think of a more intelligent follow-up.

“The who, the where, and the what now?” he asked.  The colt stared at him incredulously, as though he had just asked if water was wet.

“Uh, Vinyl Scratch?  One of the biggest names in the electronic scene?” The colt offered.  Quick stared at him blankly, his brown eyes blinking several times.  “You don’t get out much, do you?” The colt asked with a slight leer.

“Kid, I’m a bit too old for clubbing.” Quick answered honestly, his eyes on the entrance pavilion.  

“She DJ’d the Royal Wedding.” The colt offered, finally giving Quick Snap an idea of who they were talking about.

“Oh, that mare!” He chuckled sheepishly.  He had been scheduled to take photos at the wedding by the Manehatten newspaper he had been working for, and then the Changelings had attacked.  In the chaos Quick had an asthma attack severe enough to land him in the hospital for several days to recover.  Though his career prospects hadn’t much improved since then.  Pushing the memories from his mind he returned his attention to the colt.

“So, what’s she in the hospital for?” he asked, morbid curiosity getting the better of him.

“Don’t know,” The colt answered, returning his attention to the front of the crowd.  “Everypony’s got a theory.  Some say she was in an accident, others think she was attacked before a show, and some ponies think she messed herself up after a drug binge.”

Quick found his interest perk slightly. “What do you think?” he asked, his voice kept as neutral as he could manage.  The colt’s eyebrows knitted together as his hoof rubbed thoughtfully against his chin.

“If I had to pick one, I’d say drugs or she got jumped.” He shrugged.

“Huh,” the pegasus clucked his tongue “Any reason?”

The colt rolled his eyes “She’s in the club music scene, dude.  They all like to party it up.  And if she didn’t do that, then some crazies attacked her after a show.”

“Huh,” Quick repeated, “Thanks for the info.” He said as he trotted off.  Regardless of whoever was in the hospital it didn’t change the facts of his situation.  He needed to refill his inhaler, and to do that he had to get inside.

Working his way through the crowd he spotted a few reporter ponies here and there, each talking with everypony they could about, what Quick suspected, was the DJ’s condition.  He avoided them as best he could; journalists were not his favorite ponies to work with.  He had nearly made it through the crowd when his fears were realized.

“Snap?  Quick Snap?  Ha!  Long time no see!” The boisterous voice of a stallion called.  Quick tried his best to suppress a shudder as he turned to face the stallion. 

“Hi Red Top,” He acknowledged lackadaisically.  The unicorn with a rust red mane and a chestnut coat grinned as he stopped in front of the pegasus. “What brings you here?”

“Regular ponies like to read about the lives of celebrities, and what gossip is more juicy than this?” Red Top grinned broadly.  Quick Snap nodded slightly.

“That’s what I hear.” He answered, maintaining a neutral tone in his voice.

“So,” Red Top wrapped a foreleg around Quick’s shoulders “what brings you here today, pal?  I didn’t think you were a clubbing kind of pony.”

“Just here for a doctors appointment.” Quick half-lied.  Pharmacologists were doctors too … at least he thought so.  He noticed a sparkle in Red Top’s eye, the kind that made him somewhat nervous.  

“I got an idea Quick,” he said in a hushed tone.  Quick didn’t reply, the nervous expression on his face saying all he needed to. “The guards up front there aren’t letting anypony into the building without an emergency or an appointment, so nopony is getting in for an interview or photos.  But if you’ve got an appointment, then you can get in and see if you can sneak a picture or get an interview.”

“Most ponies don’t want their photo taken while in hospital.” Quick replied.  

“Hay if I know why not.  It’s a win/win for them!” Red scoffed, earning a confused look from Quick.

“How in the world do you figure that?” he asked, incredulously.  “It doesn’t do anything more then make me look like a stalker and makes you look like an ambulance chaser.”  Red Top regarded him with a flat look. 

“Hey now,” Red said with a tone that almost implied offense, “I’m not some lowlife scrub out to nab sick pictures of ponies, it’s a symbiotic relationship.”

Quick blinked, his face contorting in confusion. “I don’t follow.”

Red sighed, “Publicity is everything in the celebrity world, a picture of them at their lowest point would make them seem mortal to the common ponies wandering the streets.  They get sympathy points and name recognition, I take the fall as the bad pony while making a few bits on the side, and within a month it’s like the picture and the story never existed and all these ponies have gone on with their lives.  In the end, everypony wins.”

Quick edged away from Red Top, the whole idea making him uncomfortable.  “I doubt things ever go that easy.  Besides Red, I don’t have a camera on me.”  He said honestly.  Red’s horn flared to life, pulling a camera from his saddlebag.

“Tuck it under your wing.” Red stated “You can keep it when you’re done too, I know you’ve had trouble finding work recently.”

Quick leaned away from the camera, “Red, I really don’t know about this … It—it just seems like we’d be crossing a line.”

“Look, Quick, I’ll be the one catching all the fallout from it, you just have to take me a good picture.  I’ll make sure it’s worth your while.  Besides, I know you need the bits.”

Quick regarded Red for a long moment, weighing the decision in his mind.  No part of this plan sat well with him, but without a stable job he needed every bit he could get.  Reluctantly, he took the camera from Red, adjusting it carefully until it was comfortably tucked under his left wing.

“I will think about it, okay?” he relented, earning a broad smile from Red.

“You won’t be sorry, my friend.” 

“Somehow I doubt that.” He mumbled.

“I assume you still have a darkroom in your apartment?” Red asked, Quick nodded “Great, if you take a picture, develop it and bring it to my office tomorrow morning and I’ll see you get a good payment plus I’ll pull some strings and see if I can get you some studio work again.  If not, then just drop the camera off tomorrow morning.  No hard feelings.”

Quick nodded again, silently turning towards the hospital and leaving Red behind in the throng of ponies.  Once getting to the doors he found himself face to face with the two security ponies, both earth stallions with short-cropped manes and tails.

“Do you have an appointment?” the nearest one asked.

“Y—yes sir.  I’m seeing Dr. Gallipot about my asthma.” Quick answered honestly.  The stallions exchanged a glance, before nodding to him.

“Have a nice day sir.” The same stallion said.  Quick bowed his head in gratitude as he slipped through the doors. 

Once inside he passed efficiently through the lobby, taking the most direct path to the pharmacy.  He passed by more than a few doctors and nurses who were quietly gossiping about the crowd outside.  His wings tensed nervously, pressing the corner of the camera uncomfortably against his ribs.

The pharmacy itself was sectioned off from the main hallway behind a set of thick sliding glass doors.  Inside there were three rows, each with generic household medicines and supplies ranging from mild pain relievers and bandages to contraceptives.  At the back was a long desk, perpendicular to the shelves that blocked off access to the prescription only medications.  Quick’s attempt at a calming breath was broken by a coughing fit.  Sufficing for an irritable groan he made his way through the empty center aisle and to the counter.  Behind it was a light gray unicorn with amber eyes and a salt and pepper mane.  He smiled to Quick as he approached.

“Quick Snap, how are you today?” he asked cheerfully.

“Well enough Gallipot, how are you?  The grandfoals doing well?” Quick smiled wearily.  Gallipot’s grin widened as he nodded.

“The grandfoals are wonderful, thanks for asking.  Makes me feel a good ten years younger.” He puffed his chest out proudly.

“Good to hear, means I have less to worry about when my kids are old enough to get married.”  Quick replied, earning a chuckle from the old stallion.

“So, what can I do for you today?” Gallipot asked.  Quick slipped off his saddleback and dug in it for his inhaler, which he deposited on the counter.  

“Need a refill, I’m out again.” He said.  Gallipot’s horn flared up, pulling a pair of spectacles from his white lab coat and placing them on his nose before he scooped up the inhaler in his magic and quickly read the label.

“You went through this one quick, anything going on?” Gallipot asked casually, even as he turned to the back shelves to find the needed refills.  

Quick shrugged, wincing as the gesture made the camera give him another unpleasant poke. “Well after the whole mess with the royal wedding last summer, it’s been hard to find studio work.  Gotta fly all over the city for any little job now… Field photography isn’t as easy as it used to be.”

“Hmm,” Gallipot retrieved several bottles of Quick’s medicine “Anxiety and lots of exercise.  Definitely not good for your condition.”

Quick scoffed, “Tell me about it.”

“Have you seen a pulmonologist recently?  Or perhaps spoken to a psychologist about the anxiety?” Gallipot asked as he slipped the medicine into a paper bag.  

“Don’t have the time or the bits for either.” Quick admitted with a sigh.  The camera under his wing began to feel heavier.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Gallipot said, placing the medicine on the counter “Have you considered working in Cloudsdale?  Perhaps there’s more work there, and at the very least the air is more suited to pegasus lungs than Manehatten.  That will be 52 bits, by the way.” Gallipot said, his voice somewhat regretful.  Quick dug through his bag again, placing the needed money on the counter.  It only left him 12 bits for the week, enough for a small bag of apples if he was thrifty.

“Not much work in Cloudsdale, the enchantment expenses for all the equipment made most studios move down here long ago.” Quick answered, taking the bag of medicine in his teeth “Aank ooo” he said.  Gallipot chuckled, removing his glasses and placing them back in his pocket.  Once his medicine was safely stowed away in his saddlebag, Quick faced the pharmacist again.

“Sorry, thank you.” He said with a smile.

“My pleasure, stay out of trouble, son.” Gallipot smiled back.  

Quick Snap paused as he reached the pharmacy doors.  If he walked left, he would be back in the pavilion and back to the endless hunt for work.  If he walked right, then Red Top might just get his wish.

The pegasus still wasn’t anywhere near comfortable with the idea, he knew the kind of articles Red Top published.  On the other hoof, Red Top was well connected in the industry and always paid his contractors well.  He had a reputation for being a great friend, if a touch unsavory in his methods.  Ponies that helped him out usually ended up in good jobs with good pay, two things Quick was in near desperate need of, lately.    

‘Well,’ he thought ‘It doesn’t hurt to just walk around and take a look, right?’

Turning right, Quick made his way towards the in-patient wing.  He knew the first floor of the hospital was where the medical suites were located, cardiology, nephrology, orthopedics, spine care, pain management, radiology, OBGYN, and the surgical wards.  Additionally was the sealed off Emergency department, and if Vinyl was there, then Quick certainly wasn’t getting anywhere close.  Adjusting his wing for a moment to work the camera into a less annoying position, he made for the stairs, nearly being run over by a grey-coated mare on her way up in the process.  

“Uh, excuse me?” he grumbled to himself “Some ponies.” 

Heading up the stairs he noted a surprisingly small number of nurses on duty, the few he saw behind the central desk looked far too busy in their own work to notice him.  He shivered nervously as he began a casual walk around the wing, doing his best to inconspicuously read the nametags as he passed them.  Halfway down the wing he spotted the name ‘Vinyl Scratch’.  A casual glance in as he passed didn’t allow him to see the titular mare herself, though he did see the grey mare that had almost trampled him.    

‘Huh, maybe a sister?’ he thought as he kept walking.  Two other mares were in the room, though he hadn’t caught a good look at either of them.  

Deciding to bide his time and think for a while, Quick made his way back to the stairs.  He knew from past visits that one of the larger waiting rooms upstairs had a good view of the city and, usually, a decent amount of reading material.  At the very least, it would give him some time to consider what to do and get the annoying camera out from under his wing.  

A short walk later and he found himself happily alone in the waiting room.  The room had been laid out to hold several families at once.  Several couches were interspersed between end tables and comfortable chairs and a small garden of ferns was on the large windowsill.  Paintings lined the walls, each painted in tranquil landscapes to put the mind at ease.  On the far end a large bookshelf was full of old donated books.  Beside that was a box of toys for fillies and colts.  

Quick perused the shelves for a moment before spotting a name he recognized, J. Thoroughbred, the label read ‘My Life and Hard Times’.  Grinning like a foal, Quick plucked the book from the shelf and settled on the couch, allowing the camera to get out from its hiding place for a while.  Turning to the first of the many vignettes that composed the book he began to read, almost hearing his mother's voice in his ear.

“Chapter one, The Night The Bed Fell…” he grinned happily, nostalgic memories flooding him as the story unfolded.

Quick lost track of time as each short story gave way to another until the final story, Draft Board Nights, ended on the 85th page.  With a contented sigh, Quick returned the book to the shelf.  Looking out the windows, he noted the several hours that had passed as he relieved the stories his mother read to him at night.  Stretching out his stiff back, he scooped the camera back under his wing and made his way downstairs.  If the grey mare was still in Vinyl’s room, he’d offer his condolences and at least ask how she was.  It wouldn’t be the picture Red Top had asked for, but Quick wasn’t about to ask Vinyl’s sister if he could take a picture.

Trotting casually back to the second floor, the first thing he noticed was the lack of nurses at the desk.  He wondered if he was between shifts or if they were all busy.  With a shrug, he anxiously made his way back to Ms. Scratch’s room.  To his surprise, the door had been left wide open, and nopony seemed to be inside. 

His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he stepped into the room, his ears folding back timidly.  The bathroom door was open, with the lights off, and the chairs against the far wall were empty as well.  A large cello case was propped up in the corner, and a set of saddlebags were resting on the couch.  Quick gasped when he got far enough in to see Vinyl Scratch herself.  

The unicorn was smaller than he had expected, with alabaster fur and a vivid electric blue mane.  Her neck was secured in a heavy plastic cervical collar with visible bandaging underneath.  A large gash on her forehead had been stitched closed, though the sight of it made Quick feel sick to his stomach.  Vinyl’s fur was matted, her mane was clumpy and tangled, and including the IV lines and wires that connected her to the various pieces of equipment on the wall she looked like a mare with one hoof in the grave.

A realization made itself known in the back of Quick’s mind.  This was the opportunity Red Top had hoped for.  Vinyl was either in a deep sleep, or drugged, and there were no ponies around to see anything.  Quick’s mouth dried up and his hooves trembled.  It was a violation of this mares privacy, everything about what he was thinking of doing was wrong.  But he hadn’t had good work in months, his savings were getting dangerously low, and his medicine wasn’t getting more affordable.  Food, shelter, and his health, or this mare’s privacy and peace of mind, was one worth the price of the other?

‘Maybe—maybe I’ll just take a picture and see how it develops.  I can always burn it and the negatives.’ He thought.  Biting his lip anxiously, he settled on his decision and took a position at the foot of the bed.  His wing quivered as he retrieved the camera from under it, adjusting it in his hooves until he had it held comfortably.  He held the viewfinder up to his eye and lined up the first shot.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the sleeping mare “I’m so sorry.”  The bulb flashed while the shutter snapped open and shut.  Vinyl’s eyes didn’t open.  Quick Snap felt sick as he took a different position and snapped another picture.  Finally he lined up a close-up of Vinyl’s face.  He felt a knot form in his throat as he took the picture, his mouth pressed into a tight line.  Unable to stomach taking another photograph, and feeling his trepidation building to the point he was about to need his inhaler, Quick tucked the camera back under his wing and looked back to the unicorn.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated quietly as he left the room.  He made a beeline for the stairs, his heart pounding in his chest.  As he reached the top he bumped into the grey mare again.  He nearly panicked as the camera shifted almost out of his wing’s grasp.

“S’cuse me,” he muttered as he slipped past her and down the stairs, not daring to look her in the eye or wait for a response.

He tried not to trot too quickly for fear of drawing attention.  Even still it felt as though everypony's eyes were following him out the door.  He habitually glanced over his shoulder while he trotted away from the building, half-convinced that he was being followed.  Once he felt he was a reasonable distance away, he retrieved the camera from its hiding place and took the time to tuck it safely away in his saddlebag.  He also took a puff from his newly refilled inhaler before he spread his wings and took to the sky.  

The flight back to his studio apartment was thankfully brief, both for his lungs and his nerves.  Locking the door behind him he sighed and sat heavily on the floor.  He coughed as he tried to get his breath back, leaning his head back against the door so his gaze was cast up to the ceiling.  After resting for a while, and another breath from his inhaler, Quick reached for his saddlebag.  Pulling out the camera he considered the innocuous object for a while.  The few pictures that were held on the film almost made the camera feel heavier in his hooves.

“I should at least develop them and take a look.” He said to himself.  

Taking the camera strap in his teeth, he made his way over to his ad-hoc darkroom and set about the process of turning the film into pictures.  As the hours passed he lost himself to his work, his mind preoccupied with the specific chemical processes and timings for each frame.  Once each picture was hanging and drying, he went to the kitchen to see what he had left to eat.  Scraping together enough for a thin sandwich, he relaxed on his couch while he ate.   After finishing his dinner, he checked the clock.  With quite a while to wait before the pictures would be dry enough to handle, he settled onto the couch for a short nap.

He awoke with a groan and a cramp in his neck.  Immediately he noticed that something seemed different.  The room was lighter than it was supposed to be at night.  Checking the clock he quickly realized the issue, 7:23 am.

“Uhhg,” he bemoaned as he wrangled himself into an upright position, coughing heavily “How in the world did I sleep all night?”

Getting to his feet, he made his way over to the dark room.  His heart froze at the sight of the fully developed pictures.  To call them unflattering would have been an understatement on par with saying the changeling invasion had been unpleasant.  The harsh light of the flashbulb in conjunction with the hospital lights had given Vinyl a deathly look, pale, sick, and weak.  

“These are horrible…” He muttered, eyes transfixed on the pictures.  He was tempted to burn them and the negatives on the spot.

“No, no I can’t do that.” He admonished himself.  “If I just return the camera and tell Red I burned the photos I took.” He took a closer look at the photos, his face contorting uncomfortably.

“No, Red wouldn’t use these.  Might as well show him I at least tried … hopefully he’ll still pay me.” Quick sighed and shook his head, his posture slouching.  “I’m so screwed.”

Gathering the photos and the negatives into envelopes kept in one of his storage shelves, he placed them in his saddlebag’s left compartment while putting the camera in the right compartment.  With a puff from his inhaler he took flight again, riding the morning thermals to keep from working too hard.  Above him the local weather team was preparing another April shower.  Though by the look of things, they had only just started arranging the clouds.  After a fairly easy twenty minutes of mostly gliding, he spotted the street he was looking for.

Red Top’s office was a relatively unassuming building, looking more like a two story shop than anything else, the most notable feature being a small red sign painted on the door that read ‘Proud Publisher of the Manehatten Enquirer’.  The front served as a newsstand where the ponies of Manehatten could come in and buy any paper or magazine published in the city.  Above that was Red Top’s office where he and several employees planned and wrote the content, and in the basement was the printing press.  It wasn’t a large-scale operation, but Red Top was nothing if not a fantastic marketer.

Landing in front of the building, Quick took a moment to catch his breath and calm his nerves before he stepped inside.  Inside were a few ponies browsing the newsstands and a decidedly bored looking earth pony mare behind the counter, Quick approached the mare and smiled apprehensively.

“Uh, hi.  I’ve, uh, got an a—appointment with Red Top.” he said.  The mare quirked an eyebrow slightly, her blue eyes meticulously looking him over.

“Name?” she asked in a clipped tone.

“Quick Snap.”

“Hm, wait here.” She said before turning and making her way upstairs.  Quick flexed his wings uncomfortably.  The waiting gave him the urge to pick at his feathers, which wasn’t a particularly healthy obsession.  Fortunately for his pinfeathers, the mare returned fairly quickly.  

“You can go upstairs, he’s at his desk.” She motioned to the stairwell behind her.  Quick nodded and muttered his thanks as he passed her.  

At the top of the cramped and dimly lit stairwell was the press level, a wide-open space with several desks and ponies in varying discussions of articles for the next issue.  In the center of the controlled madness was Red Top, his desk covered with various articles from magazines and newspapers about Vinyl Scratch, even a few photos of her stage shows.  Quick found himself marveling at the difference between the mare he saw yesterday, laid out in a hospital bed, and the vibrant, lively mare he saw in those photos.  Red top noticed him after a moment and smiled broadly.  

“Mornin’ Quick, what’ve you got for me?” He looked up to the pegasus like a foal on Hearthswarming morning.  Quick’s ears folded back and he fidgeted somewhat as he removed his saddlebag.

“You know, Red,” Quick started with a smirk, “All these articles and pictures on your desk could make a pony think you had a stalking hobby.”

Red laughed loudly “If only!  No, no nothing like that, I met up with some of my staff in the archives section in the library after we talked yesterday and we scraped up all the info we could on Vinyl.  I don’t like to do a story without knowing a bit about my subject matter.” He admitted

“Speaking of which, I managed to get a couple pictures,” He admitted quietly “but, I gotta tell you, Red … they’re not pretty.”

Red’s enthusiasm vanished immediately, replaced by the cautious mask of a businesspony.   

“Let’s see them.” He said with a simple nod.

Quick removed the envelope from his bag and placed it on the desk.  Red’s magic quickly took hold of it and slipped the pictures free.  He sucked in a deep breath through his nose at the sight, his face remaining carefully neutral.

“I spotted a mare in there before I took those, her sister I guess.  Didn’t speak to her though.” Quick admitted, Red’s brow furrowed as if in confusion for a moment before he returned to his neutral expression.  Quick dug at the floor with a hoof absently.

“I uh,” he started “I would recommend you don’t use those pictures, but it’s your choice.” Quick added.  Red placed the pictures on his desk before reaching into a drawer with his magic.  He levitated a checkbook out and quickly wrote it out.

“I appreciate you getting these for me, Quick.  It gives me a lot to think about.” He said as he tore the check free, holding it out to the pegasus.  “Here’s your payment, like I promised, and I think I can talk to a friend of mine who runs a studio to get you some easy work.”   

Quick could only manage a dumb nod as he read the check.  Suddenly a visit home, to Cloudsdale, suddenly seemed much more plausible than it had seemed the prior day.  

“T—thank you.” He managed after a moment.  Red nodded and smiled to the number-shocked pegasus.

“Go take a few days off, relax, treat yourself to a nice meal.  I’ll let you know when I’ve got something for you, okay?” Red said kindly.  Quick nodded and carefully secured the check in the bottom of his saddlebag.  

Red watched as the pegasus half stumbled out of the office, once he was confident Quick had left the building he hummed softly.  The pictures were certainly not what he had expected.  Not that he had been exactly sure what to expect, but what he got was what he liked to consider ‘highly-volatile gold’.  Perhaps more interesting than the pictures, was the information that Quick had accidentally stumbled into.   

“Everypony, take a break!” He called, loud enough for his entire staff to hear.  “We need to talk about some developments in the next issue.”

> Vinyl
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Octavia had returned to Vinyl’s room, she had forgotten all about the pegasus in the stairwell.  Vinyl remained asleep, her lips slightly parted as she breathed.  Octavia took her seat beside Vinyl, quietly watching the gentle rise and fall of her lover’s chest.  She reached over with her right hoof to lightly stroke Vinyl’s mane, an act that was fast becoming an autonomic response for the cellist.  She absently ran her free hoof through her mane, wincing at the tangles she ran into.

“How I ever managed to keep my mane without your help, I’ll never know.” She mused to the sleeping mare.  The whispering sound of Vinyl’s breathing was the only reply Octavia received, occasionally punctuated by small coughs.  

Octavia studied the unicorns face, having memorized every inch with a virtuoso’s penchant for detail.  The natural wavelike flow of Vinyl’s fur, now mottled by clumpy patches, the vibrant blue mane, now flat and dull after so long without a proper washing.  Octavia noted the way Vinyl’s eyes darted to and fro behind their lids.  She wondered what Vinyl might be dreaming about.

“You know what I miss?” Octavia spoke to her sleeping lover “I miss coming home to the house shaking from that racket you call music.  I miss our afternoon walks through town. I miss the look on your face when I would walk in on you trying to dance on two legs.” She chuckled to herself.  

Her hoof gently stroked through Vinyl’s mane, starting from her forehead, to behind the unicorn’s ear, and finally ending the stroke along Vinyl’s jaw.  Normally the touch would have rendered Vinyl a veritable puddle of affectionate noises with her head leaned into Octavia’s touch like a kitten.  Now the most reaction she received was a momentary furrowing of the unicorn’s brow.  With a weary sigh, Octavia rested her head against the mattress.

“I want you home again.” She lamented into the starchy sheets, soon falling into a fragile sleep.

It seemed only an instant before a sound roused her from her rest.  She awoke slowly at first, her eyelids slowly blinking away the haze of sleep.  The lights were dimmed to their lowest setting, bathing the room in a soft golden glow.  It reminded Octavia of romantic nights lit by candles scented with the delicate aroma of vanilla.    She squinted to read the clock on the wall, managing to make out a time roughly in the 3 am area.  A wide yawn escaped her as she contemplated the possibility that her imagination was the proper culprit.  The act of sitting up in a more natural position yielded a series of uncouth pops down her spine.  She cringed at the noise, in spite of the relief the act brought with it.  

She slipped carefully from her chair and onto her hooves, intent on reclining on the couch that had become her makeshift bed over the last week for a more comfortable sleep when she heard the sound again.  A whimper, nearly whisper quiet in the darkened room.  She gasped as she moved to get a good look at Vinyl’s face, her weariness evaporating at the sight of her fiancé’s contorted face.

“Vinyl?” She asked softly, her hoof  “Vinyl are you alright?” 

“Ta—tav…” Vinyl wheezed, her voice weak and dry.

“What’s wrong Vinyl?” Octavia placed a hoof on the unicorn’s shoulder, concern flooding her mind.

“Aaher…” Vinyl choked out, her face scrunched like she’d attempted to chew on a particularly tart lime.

“I…uh, what?” Octavia fumbled for words momentarily “Do you need a doctor?  Are you in pain? Oh Gods, do you have a fev-” Octavia found her muzzle wrapped in a blue aura and Vinyl giving her a look torn somewhere between annoyance and amusment.  The unicorn coughed quietly before she made another attempt at speech.

“Water … please?” she managed in a near whisper, her magic releasing Octavia’s snout.  Octavia chuckled sheepishly, her hoof pressing down on the red call button to summon a nurse.  It only took a minute for one of the unicorn nurses to trot into the room, a cautious smile on her face.

“Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Um, yes.  Vinyl just woke up.  Could she get some water please?” Octavia asked.  The tension in the nurse’s posture relaxed slightly.

“Of course, I’ll be right back.” The nurse said as she disappeared out of the room again, returning a few minutes later with a covered cup fitted with a straw levitating in front of her.  

“Here we go,” the mare smiled, placing the cup on the nightstand. “Lets get her sitting up a bit first.”

Octavia moved away from the bed so the nurse could adjust it so Vinyl was ‘sitting’ at an incline.  The nurse then levitated the cup to Vinyl’s parched lips.

“Take it slow now, your throat is going to be sore.” She told Vinyl.  The DJ grunted an affirmation as her lips enveloped the straw.  

Octavia observed the pained expression on Vinyl’s face at the simple act, the first swallow inducing a noticeable cringe in the mare.  Her eyes clenched shut momentarily before she continued to drink, her gaze fixated on the cup in front of her.  Vinyl managed four good mouthfuls of water before she released the straw, panting from the exertion.

“Th—thanks…” she whispered, her voice notably less raw after the drink.

“It’s my pleasure dear,” the nurse answered with a smile, setting the cup down on the nightstand.  Her magic grabbed the clipboard hooked to the foot of the bed.  “How are you feeling?”

“Neck hurts” Vinyl answered.

“Can you put a number on it?  One being no pain, ten being the worst pain you’ve ever experienced,” the nurse asked, jotting down notes.  Vinyl thought for a moment before she answered.

“Seven” she replied quietly.  The nurse nodded and made note of the number.

“Can you tell me what kind of pain?  Sharp, dull, achy, burning?” She asked.

“Sharp n’ achy.” Vinyl rasped.  The nurse nodded again and replaced the clipboard.

“Okay, I’ll go and check with the doctor on call, I’m not authorized to give you any medications.  If there’s anything else you need just hit the call button again.” She smiled before she left the room.  Octavia slowly released the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.  Carefully, she hugged Vinyl again, nuzzling cheek to cheek with the unicorn.  

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” She whispered into Vinyl’s ear, elicting a chuckle from the unicorn that was quickly interrupted by a cough.

“Tavi?” Vinyl whispered.

“Vinyl?”

“Love you.”  

Octavia chuckled and lightly kissed Vinyl’s lips “Love you more.” She teased.  Vinyl’s right eye cracked open to give Octavia what was, at best, a half-intimidating glare.

“Nuh-uh.” She groused.  Octavia could help but to chuckle even as she pressed a tender kiss against Vinyl’s lips.

“Nuh-huh.” 

Vinyl grunted lightly, her eye closing again as Octavia held her close.  Even after hours of sleep, the last vestiges of the anesthetics left her woozy.  Octavia sighed contentedly, her right foreleg draped over Vinyl’s chest and her left gently stroking Vinyl’s mane.  Silence again settled over the room until Octavia heard what sounded like a grunt from the unicorn.  She thought nothing of the sound initially, until the sound evolved into a disgruntled cry.  Octavia quickly removed herself from Vinyl, thinking she had hurt the injured mare further.  Vinyl’s eyes were overcome with fresh tears and her lips pulled into a tight scowl.

“Vinyl, what’s wrong?” Octavia asked worriedly “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Vinyl attempted to shake her head, an act that only ended in a spike of pain and no motion.  She growled in frustration at her body.

“Wanted to hug you…” She lamented quietly.  Octavia smiled and leaned over to kiss Vinyl again.

“Don’t worry Vinyl, we’ll get through it eventually.” She promised, gingerly wiping the tears from the unicorn’s cheeks.  “I’m here, I’ll always be here for you.”

Vinyl calmed down slowly, due in large part to Octavia’s loving touch and gentle humming.  It was nearly four in the morning before the doctor on duty trotted into the room to give Vinyl another dose of pain medication.  He was polite enough, but didn’t stay in the room longer than he had to.  It wasn’t long after he left that the medicine took Vinyl back to sleep.

Vinyl awoke hours later to voices in her room.  Slowly blinking awake, she was greeted by the familiar sight of the plain ceiling.  That damnable ceiling that she had been staring at all day every day since she had been wheeled into her room all those days ago.  Without her glasses, the ceiling was a uniform tan shade, if she was wearing her glasses she could at least be moderately distracted by the textured paint.  

If she shifted her gaze as far as she could to the right or left, she could just barely see the walls or whoever else was in the room with her.  Vinyl winced as she swallowed, her throat once again dry.  The stitched gash on her forehead itched horribly.  She tried to lift her hoof to scratch it, and again felt her heart sink when her body didn’t so much as twitch.  She squeezed her eyes shut, not for the first time wishing this was all some horrific nightmare that she would wake up from.  She wanted so badly to scream, to run, anything.  She’d kill for the simple ability to sit up on her own power.

“Good Morning Vinyl,” Octavia’s voice interrupted her thoughts, the cellist’s weary visage filling her vision, though without her glasses, Octavia was a bit hard to distinguish.

“Morning, Tavi.” Vinyl forced a smile.  Her throat ached, but she didn’t want Octavia to worry any more than she already was.  As far as pain went, Vinyl was on easy street as compared to a few days earlier.

“How are you feeling?” Octavia asked, her hoof stroking through Vinyl’s mane again.  The innocuous act irritated Vinyl, it made her feel like a pet or a sick infant, but the unicorn knew why Octavia was doing it.  For that reason alone, Vinyl would suffer in silence forever.  

“Sore,” Vinyl croaked softly, “Can I get my glasses, please?” she asked plaintively.   

Octavia smiled and nodded, efficiently taking the glasses in hoof and placing them on Vinyl’s snout, bringing her world back into focus.

“Thanks.” She sighed contentedly.  Octavia nodded again and leaned back slightly, an uncomfortable look on her face.

“So, Vinyl?” She started, her tone catching the unicorn’s attention.

“Hmm?” she looked to her fiancé with slight concern.

“Well, it’s um…well you see…” She sighed and pressed a hoof to her face, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.  Vinyl still found a smile cross her lips at the sight. “Sorry, this is awkward.” Octavia continued after a moment to gather her thoughts.  “I was talking with the staff after you got out of surgery about getting you cleaned up.  Your mane and coat are getting a bit…out of hoof.”

Vinyl flushed slightly. If she was being honest, she was feeling a bit gross after a week without a shower.

“Turns out that the hospital is equipped for this sort of thing,” Octavia continued, her gaze fixated on the floor.  Vinyl had long since learned that when Octavia avoided eye contact it generally meant she was highly uncomfortable with what she was discussing. “There are a couple of nurses here who can take you back to a private room where they’ll clean you up.  If you don’t mind.”

Vinyl’s cheeks burned at the implication.  She didn’t want two strangers washing her.  The only pony she wanted to share such a vulnerable time with was Octavia.  Still, she understood why this was the way it had to be.  She couldn’t force Octavia to do this one more thing.  The burden she had already dumped onto the cellist's back was great enough.  

Burden.

The epiphany stuck in her mind like an annoying song.  She had become the one thing she never wanted to be in her life, a burden on the one she loved.  Worse still, the burden she represented would only increase with age.  A cold sweat gripped her body as the realization solidified like a boulder in her gut.

“Vinyl?” Octavia interrupted her thoughts.

“Uh, yeah …” Vinyl said quietly “Yeah, that’s fine.” She lied.

Octavia nodded and disappeared out of the room for a moment, returning soon enough with two unicorn nurses.  

“Good Morning Vinyl,” the first one spoke up, her coat a pastel yellow and her mane a pale blue.  “I’m Claire, this is my partner Allie. Ready to get cleaned up?” she smiled.

Vinyl attempted to nod, again receiving no motion and a stab of pain.  With a winch she just grunted a tired “Sure.” 

The unicorns wheeled in a second bed that had been standing by in the hallway.  Combining their magic they lifted Vinyl a few inches and over to the fresh bedding.  Vinyl shivered as cool air washed over her back.  Her cheeks flushed at the entire act, she couldn’t recall a time in her life where she felt quite as exposed.  The mares gently set her on the fresh mattress and pulled a clean blanket over her.  Octavia gave her a hug before they wheeled her out of the room.  She noticed another pair of nurses just outside of the room bearing fresh sheets and cleaning supplies, for her room she assumed.

The two mares didn’t offer conversation during the walk, which Vinyl was grateful for.  She wasn’t in the mood for small talk, irrespective of the fact that she could hardly talk at the moment anyway.  Their walk ended when Allie pushed open the door to a comparatively dimly lit room bathed in a bluish light.  The tiling on the floor went about halfway up the walls and in the center of the room was a large bathtub with a perforated metal platform with an attached chair back of sorts that would allow a paralyzed pony to sit upright.  The entire contraption was sitting three inches over a full tub of water, effervescent tendrils of steam drifting through the perforations.  

The air of the room was warm and somewhat humid, which felt rather good on Vinyl’s dry throat and sinuses.  In spite of her general irritation with fancy bathing salts and smells, Vinyl had to admit the prospect of being a bit pampered didn’t seem like such a bad idea with how greasy her fur and mane felt. 

“So here’s what we’re going to do, Vinyl,” Claire spoke up, removing the sheet that covered the DJ’s body and, after folding it neatly, she placed it onto a countertop “Allie and I will put you on that platform which will then be lowered into the water until you’re submerged up to your collarbone.  We’ve already got the water to a comfortable temperature and we’ve added a few salts to the water that will start cleaning out your fur and have some therapudic qualities that you should find soothing.  We’ll let you soak for ten or fifteen minutes, then we’ll start washing you off head to hoof.”

Both mares noticed the uncomfortable look that spread over Vinyl’s face.

“Allie and I have worked in spas and as registered nurses for five years each, I can assure you we are consummate professionals.”

Allie, a pale orange mare with a yellow mane, nodded in agreement. “Don’t worry Vinyl, we understand this is an awkward situation and we will do everything in our power to keep you comfortable while we work.”

“After your coat is cleaned, we’ll remove the back and lay you flat on the table so we can wash your mane out.  Then we get you dried off and back to your room.” Claire smiled kindly.  “And as a bonus, you don’t have to wear your collar while we work.  We just tape some plastic wrap over your incisions and you’re good to go!”

Vinyl let out a genuinely happy grin at the thought of being free from the collar that secured her neck.  She swore up and down that the second she was free of it she was going to burn the blasted thing in a massive bonfire.

“Ready, Vinyl?” Claire asked.

“Yeah.” Vinyl answered.

With a nod, both Allie and Claire’s horns lit up, again lifting Vinyl from her bed and lowering her onto the platform.  Vinyl admired their cooperative dexterity with their magic.  Without a word they were able to place her in a sitting position, her rear hooves resting against a small plate that prevented her body from sliding down.  Once she was comfortable they set to work, Claire taping plastic wrap over the incision on Vinyl’s hip, and Allie carefully removing the collar.  Vinyl bit back a whimper as her neck was released from it’s prision.  She hadn’t expected the pain that the plastic device has seemingly kept at bay for so long.  Every little movement in her neck was its own small torment.  

Allie offered Vinyl an apologetic smile as she separated the shell of the collar from its fabric cushioning that separated Vinyl’s flesh from the plastic.  Tossing the fabric in a biohazard bin, she dropped the two halves of the shell into a tub of cleaning solution.  Meanwhile, Claire covered the incision on Vinyl’s neck with more plasic wrap, Vinyl couldn’t stop a hiss from escaping her when the mare taped the transparent sheet to her neck.

“Sorry Vinyl,” Clair offered “But it’s got to be water tight.”

After confirming all the details were in place, the mares lowered her into the water.  Vinyl’s eyes rolled back into her skull as the hot liquid soaked through her fur and onto her skin.  Words failed her, it was unlike any feeling she had experienced before.  After so long without being washed, so many days stuck in the same bed staring at the same ceiling with the same unchanging color and flat lighting, this was simply indescribable.  It was better than finishing a show to the thunderous ovations of her fans, better than eating a fresh slice of chocolate cake with a cold glass of milk.  It rivaled the euphoric feeling she felt when Octavia accepted her proposal for marriage; it could almost rival sex.  The groan that escaped her lips brought a smirk to Allie and Claire’s faces.

“That good, huh?” Allie asked.

“Mmm-hmmm.” Vinyl responded, unable to process a more eloquent response.  

As promised, Allie and Claire let Vinyl soak unmolested for fifteen minutes.  The few times Vinyl opened her eyes she was able to notice one of them keeping an eye on her while the other attended to setting up various supplies onto a pair of trays for easy access.  Vinyl couldn’t quite tell which mare was doing what given the steam that had her glasses almost as useless as her naked eyes.  


Useless.

The word engraved itself into her mind.  It stung her very core.  After all, it was true.  She was a nearsighted quadriplegic disc jockey.  No, no she wasn’t a disc jockey anymore.  Disc jockeys had gear that they could take from location to location to fulfill their job.  Vinyl’s gear would be sold off to pay her debts to Dawn, and even if Dawn decided to return her gear, no strings attached, Vinyl would still have to sell it to cover the medical bills.  So where did that leave her?  An unemployed, quadriplegic, nearsighted unicorn that couldn’t so much as make it to the bathroom unassisted.  Upon reflection, useless didn’t quite cover that.  

Burden.

Yes, yes that was it.  She was worse than useless, useless was at least harmless.  Useless couldn’t hurt those around her.  Useless wasn’t a drag on the time and energy of others.  She was far worse than useless.  In a good year, Octavia’s earnings were just over half of what Vinyl had been able to make in an average year.  

How long would Octavia’s savings last after Vinyl’s were depleted?  How much work would Octavia be forced to pass because Vinyl needed a caretaker?  How many hours of her beloved’s life would Vinyl steal for every measly little thing?  If Octavia ever decided that she could no longer handle the weight of that burden, a sentiment that Vinyl could easily understand, would she have the strength to let Octavia go?

Perhaps a burden was too kind a word for Vinyl.  She sighed to herself, barely noticing Claire and Allie until the table ascended from the water and the soap-lathered rags held in their magic began massaging her flesh.  Vinyl flushed in embarrassment as the two methodically cleaned her body.  Starting from the hooves of her forelegs, they worked their way up to her shoulders, each mare scrubbing half of her neck and taking extra care around the incisions.  From there they worked their way down her chest and stomach.  True to their word, they were consummate professionals, but it didn’t lessen the humiliation she felt when their cleaning took them past her hips.   Vinyl bit her tongue and squeezed her eyes shut, doing her best to pretend she was anywhere else until their work had reached her knees.

Once they had reached her hooves, Vinyl allowed herself a sigh, the worst seemingly over.  Her heart skipped a beat when she realized she was being carefully lifted off the table, just enough for one of them to wash the back half of her body.  Her cheeks burned at the shame of it all.  Even tough neither mare said a word to make her feel put down or inadequate.  Worse still was the knowledge that this sort of ritual would be her life, every week the same mortification of being washed by complete strangers.  She didn’t know if she could handle that.  

After rinsing all the soap from her fur, They gently removed the chair back that she had been leaning on and rested her flat on the bed, her head suspended evenly in Allie’s magic.  Claire produced a hose from somewhere Vinyl couldn’t see and preceded to run hot water through her mane.  Even in her despondent state, the sensation of warm water over her scalp elicited a pleased moan from Vinyl.  

After being thoroughly cleaned and rinsed, twice, the flow of hot water ceased, replaced by warm, dry towels gently wiping the moisture from her body.  After that each mare handled two blow-dryers which they used to painstakingly get Vinyl’s fur water free.  They then shifted Vinyl back to the bed, removing the plastic wrap that protected her wounds and placing the sterilized collar with a fresh pad insert back onto her neck.  They even took the time to thoroughly brush out her coat, mane, and tail, leaving Vinyl’s body quantifiably more pampered than she had ever been before.

All told, the entire process had taken an hour and a half, yet to Vinyl, it had been exhausting.  She scoffed bitterly to herself.  Vinyl Scratch, self-appointed queen of club scene, was exhausted from a bath.  Before they had wheeled the bed halfway down the hall, she was fast asleep.

When she woke up she was faced with the same old boring ceiling.  Given that she could see the texture, it meant Octavia had left her glasses on while she slept.  Not that it mattered, it wasn’t like she could roll over and break them accidentally.  She yawned and coughed lightly, the noise quickly attracting Octavia to her bedside.  Vinyl smiled sadly, she loved the earth pony with every fiber of her being.  Vinyl had never considered herself much of a catch, but Octavia deserved far better than to be stuck with the worthless blob that she had become.

“Hey sleepyhead,” Octavia smiled brightly to her “Enjoy your time in the spa?”

“Sure.” Vinyl answered quietly, “What time is it?” she managed to ask.  Octavia peered to a clock that Vinyl couldn’t see.

“1:00 dear.” The cellist answered simply. “You look so much better now,” she commented honestly. “You should get a spa treatment more often, you clean up good.” She said with a playful smile.

Vinyl rolled her eyes melodramatically.

“Dr. Poultice stopped in a little while ago to see how you were.  He said that the physical therapist should be by today to see you.” Octavia explained, “He’s a nice stallion.”

“Lyra and Bonnie here?” Vinyl rasped.  Octavia shook her head after a moment.

“No, Bon Bon had a business meeting today and Lyra is working for Allegro.  Oh, that reminds me…” She disappeared out of Vinyl’s sight for a moment, returning with a mouthful of envelopes.  Vinyl stared at them quizzically, giving her fiancé a confused look.  Octavia placed the little pile on the bed before disappearing again and returning with a flower basket in her teeth, more cards stuffed in the base.  She placed that on the nightstand carefully before she spoke.

“You have some wonderful fans, Vinyl.” Octavia smiled. “ While you were in surgery, Allegro’s kids, the ones who gave you that card the other night, started a little flash mob outside.  You should have seen it Vinyl, hundreds of ponies, all there for you.”  

Vinyl’s eyes went wide in surprise, her mind torn between embarrassed flattery and sheer terror.

“N—Nopony told them what happened, right?” She asked meekly.  Octavia shook her head again, still smiling.

“No, we only told them that you were unwell and were grateful for their support.  Vinyl half-laughed, half cried.  Octavia’s hoof dabbed the stray tears from her eyes.  After Vinyl composed herself, she captured the first card she could in her magic and offered it to Octavia.

“Help me open?” she asked.  Octavia chuckled and nodded.

“Anything for you, love.” She answered, taking the envelope in her hooves.

The two spent the better part of an hour going through the stack of cards.  Some were funny, some were creepy, and more than a few made Vinyl weep.  They had made their way through nearly half of their pile before a knock on the door broke them of their reverie.

“Come in!” Octavia called even as she stacked the opened cards onto the nightstand.  

She had expected Dr. Poultice, instead an unicorn mare with a chestnut coat and a black mane stepped into the room.  Her warm brown eyes surveyed the scene with a matching kindly smile.

“Good afternoon,” She started in a thick Triponi accent “I am Dr. Somatikos Epidiortho̱tí̱s,” she introduced herself earning a dumbfounded stare from both Vinyl and Octavia.

“Um, I’m sorry, but could you repeat that?” Octavia asked, slightly embarrassed.  The bay mare chuckled in amusement.

“Somatikos Epidiortho̱tí̱s, just call me Soma,” She said ”I realize my name is hard for most ponies.”

Octavia chuckled sheepishly and extended a hoof to the mare, which she shook eagerly.  

“I’m Octavia, this is Vinyl.” She gestured to the alabaster mare, who smiled skittishly.  Soma nodded and approached the bedside.

“Well Vinyl, it's a pleasure to meet you.” She smiled, “I am to be your physical therapist for the rest of your stay.  With luck we shall get you moving again.”

“Awesome.” Vinyl smiled genuinely.  “What do I do?”

Soma’s horn lit up in an amethyst glow that enveloped Vinyl’s limbs.

“For today, just relax.  I am going to use my magic to start some low level muscle stimulation. It should start the process of getting your brain to communicate with your muscles.  I’ll work for an hour on this type of stimulation every morning, and then we will get a routine of exercises that I will help you through twice a day, everyday.  From there we will keep a flexible plan depending on what results we see.”  She paused, noting the sad look spreading over Vinyl’s face “Whatever you do, Vinyl, I need you to stay positive.  You’ll never get better if you give up hope.” 

Vinyl grunted in affirmation, wishing she could do something as simple as nodding.  Soma’s magic worked its way into Vinyl’s muscles.  It was the strangest feeling for Vinyl, to have another unicorn’s magic stimulating muscles she couldn’t twitch.  Almost like a gentle tickle just under her skin.  She wanted to squirm away from it, but that was a futile effort.  

Useless.

She sulked, ignoring the conversation Octavia was having with Soma as she worked.  It just seemed so pointless.  How any small therapy could give her back the use of her legs she simply couldn’t see.  So, it seemed from Vinyl’s perspective, that there was no point in it all.

Soma spent fifteen minutes on each of Vinyl’s legs, taking equal care to ensure they all received the same level of meticulous care.  When she finished she left with the promise to return in the evening for another round of therapy.  Vinyl did her best to keep the illusion of optimism for Octavia, who seemed genuinely hopeful.  The thought of disappointing her lover, again, broke Vinyl’s heart.

The two filled some of the time with the rest of the get-well cards, Octavia reading most of them out loud to Vinyl.  It wasn’t much, but it was a distraction from her thoughts.  Poultice stopped in later, a large cup in his magical grasp, which he claimed to be Vinyl’s dinner.  The contents proved to be a surprisingly nice amalgamation of foods into a shake that Vinyl was able to drink with comparative ease.  It sated her appetite, not that she felt particularly like eating, but it was nice nonetheless.  

True to her word, Soma returned that evening as the sun was starting to dip below the horizon.  She massaged Vinyl’s limbs again, while conversing politely with Octavia.  Vinyl kept to her thoughts, using her sore throat as an excuse to avoid conversation.

The days formed into a simple routine.  Vinyl would wake up in the morning for physical therapy with Dr. Soma.  The Arravani unicorn would do massage therapy for twenty minutes as a warm up before she guided Vinyl’s limbs, one at a time, through a basic range of motion.  Each time it left Vinyl sore, which Soma swore was a good sign, even if it left Vinyl in an irritable mood.  The gentle torture, as Vinyl was coming to know it, ended after almost an hour and a half, leaving Vinyl and Octavia alone again.  

Sometimes Lyra and Bonnie would visit, bringing the latest gossip and news to the bored mare.  When they visited, Octavia was able to go home for a while to rest.  Vinyl was glad for that.  Octavia didn’t deserve to be caged in the room with her like a bird or a pet.   When she was in the room Octavia did her best to be good company for Vinyl.  The first few days after surgery, she played her cello a lot, hoping to provide Vinyl something interesting to listen to.  After Vinyl’s voice was back to a point where she could speak easier, the two would talk about whatever they could.  Politics, music, or what the best diner in Ponyville was.  Sunday brought a spirited debate about the merits of chocolate cake as compared to vanilla cake.  That particular conversation had ended with Octavia doubled over on the floor laughing herself silly.

Monday, however, had brought a very different atmosphere.  Bon Bon had spent the evening with Vinyl, after the unicorn had all but begged Octavia to take a night off.  When Octavia and Lyra had returned in the morning, there was clearly something wrong.  Vinyl’s bed had been adjusted so she was sitting upright again which gave her a clear view of the problem.  Octavia’s posture was too rigid, Lyra was too quiet, and she could hear ponies whispering from somewhere she couldn’t see.  Poultice edged into the room behind them, the concern plain on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Vinyl asked, the tension starting to make her nervous.  “What’s happening?”

When she received no answers, she became irritated.

“Come on, somepony throw me a bone!” she growled in exasperation.  

Octavia’s eyes welled up with tears before she approached Vinyl’s bed.

“Vinyl…I—I’m sorry.” She started, further confusing and concerning the unicorn. “I’ve failed you.   I—I’ve failed you again.”

“Tavi?  What are you talking about?” Vinyl blinked.  Lyra’s horn lit up, pulling a rolled up tabloid from her saddlebag.  She offered it to Vinyl, which the bedridden mare took in her magic.  Without hesitation she unrolled the paper and took in the front page.  Her blood ran cold.

Plastered across the front page was her picture, taken while she was still sleeping off the anesthesia and showing the full extent of her injuries.  She was shocked how bad it made her look, like a street pony that had jumped in front of an oncoming train.  The headline, printed in bold red letters declared:

VINYL SCRATCH: ONE PARTY TOO HARD?

The sub headline was more damaging, reading: ‘Has the Queen of the Clubs finally partied too hard?  PLUS: Who is DJ_P0N3’s secret marefriend?’

Vinyl dropped the paper into her lap, her eyes wide in horror.  It wasn’t being outed as a lesbian she particularly minded, she never cared what ponies thought of that.   What did terrify her was what would happen to Octavia.  The classical music community and the social elite she relied on for her living were not nearly as tolerant of same-sex relationships.  Piece by piece, her world was crumbling away.

Vinyl felt numb.  She couldn’t understand why all this was happening to her.  What had she done to deserve it.  Octavia was beside herself, convinced it was somehow her fault.  Poultice was apologizing profusely, insisting that he would personally accept responsibility for the photos, and ensuring it would never happen again.

For Vinyl, it was one bridge too far.  She couldn’t process it, couldn’t cope with it.  She retreated into her own mind, catatonic to the rest of the world.  Soma arrived on her normal schedule and continued with Vinyl’s therapy, if she spoke, Vinyl didn’t hear it.  What did get Vinyl’s attention, was about halfway through her session with Soma, when her right foreleg began to burn fiercly.  A cry escaped her as her mind snapped back to reality.  Soma’s eyes went momentarily wide and Octavia was at her side in an instant.

“What’s wrong?  What’s happening?” the cellist demanded.

“My leg,” Vinyl hissed “Feels like its on fire!” 

Soma smiled broadly, “Vinyl, you’re going to think I’m a mad mare, but I assure you this is fantastic news!”

“How?” Vinyl snapped, her eyes glaring daggers at the therapist

“Your foreleg is trembling.” Soma pointed out, Octavia gasped her hoof covering her mouth. “The burning is the nerves in your leg waking up, so to speak.”  She smiled ecstatically to Vinyl.

“Congratulations Vinyl, You’re going to get your forelegs back.”

> Rhythm, Melody, Harmony
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note: This chapter features a lot of music links.  While they are not required, I do recommend them for the optimal experience.

_________________

“All right everypony,” Allegro called out over the crowded concert hall.  His voice cutting through the myriad conversations between the musicians, “We’ve got a couple last minute rearrangements to make in the schedule, please make note of it on your set lists.” 

Octavia’s body reacted on instinct, her hooves shuffling around the music into the order Allegro had dictated.  Her thoughts were at the hospital, with Vinyl.  Soma assured them both two days earlier that the searing pain in Vinyl’s forelegs was a good sign.  Neither of them believed it, the events of the last couple weeks having beaten down their reserves of hope.  The Vinyl she loved was slipping into despair and the uncertainty if she would recover from it terrified Octavia.

Vinyl needed hope; she needed tangible progress that allowed her to feel like she had some control of her life again.  Her career had been hanging by a thread, optimistically speaking, after the accident.  After the Manehatten Enquirer’s cover, Octavia couldn’t imagine her prospects would improve.  Octavia’s outrage had been quelled slightly by Dr. Poultice’s actions.  A security guard was at Vinyl’s door at all hours now, and Poultice had ensured that a guard would remain there as long as Vinyl was hospitalized.  

Octavia couldn’t help but be surprised by how personally offended Poultice had been by the act.  His profuse apologies to both Vinyl and herself were commendable enough, but he had also pulled Octavia aside and given her the contact information for his brother, who apparently was a lawyer.  Octavia still had the stallion’s information tucked in the bottom of her saddlebag.  Sometime the concert she would make time to speak with him, there had to be some form of recourse for Vinyl, right?

She took a deep breath and held it for a moment before slowly exhaling through her mouth.  Allegro directed the orchestra through their final rehearsal, though Octavia scarcely was aware of it.  Her body reacted on instinct, decades of practice and countless hours of experience allowed her to play her parts with ease, albeit without her usual passion.  Though who could blame her mind for being elsewhere?   She was lost in her own world 

She barely noticed when the rehearsal ended, all but blind to the ponies moving around her as she stared at her music stand.  The tiny lamp that illuminated her score gave the paper a trace of yellow color.  If she squinted her eyes just right, it was a perfect match for Vinyl’s coat.  Allegro’s hoof gently tapped on her shoulder, breaking her of her reverie.

“Is everything all right, Octavia?” he asked kindly.

“Hm?  Oh, I’m sorry, I’m playing awfully.” She frowned, unsure if she had actually made mistakes or not.

“Oh, no, no, no.” He smiled “Technically speaking your playing just fine, there’s just not much heart in it today.”

Octavia laughed softly, “I can’t disagree with that I suppose.”

“Is Vinyl doing well?” He asked, voice hushed so no other musicians heard.

“It’s been a trying week.” The cellist admitted, rubbing her eyes wearily with a sigh. “I guess my heart just isn’t in it today.”

Allegro frowned lightly, his concern apparent in his eyes.

“Walk with me.” He stated firmly.  Octavia raised an eyebrow at the request, but quickly nodded.  Before joining him, she carefully placed her cello and bow back into their case.  Allegro led her off the stage at a casual pace; the two passed a pair of Zebra stallions as well as a male and female griffon along the way.  The four were engaged in what appeared, at least in passing, to be a spirited debate.  Octavia hadn’t met any of them formally, though she was aware they had been brought in for specific songs.

Allegro led her through the crowded backstage and up through the staff only staircases, the utilitarian corridors eventually depositing them back into the opulent upper seating areas.  Allegro pushed open one of the black fabric curtains that secluded the private box seats from the hall, motioning for Octavia to take a seat.  

Hesitantly at first, she entered the box, the chairs for the boxes were considerably higher in quality then the common seating was.  The wooden frames were expertly carved into intricate vine and floral patters that had an almost lifelike quality.  Gold paint covered the woods natural color and balanced well with the vibrant red cushions.    

Octavia hesitated to sit in such opalescence, partially out of a sense of unworthiness, partially out of decorum.  The hesitation evaporated fairly quickly when Allegro carelessly flopped into one of the seats, allowing himself to practically melt into the cushions with no sense of his age, station, or propriety.  The cellist chuckled, there was little doubt in her mind Vinyl and Allegro would be fast friends if they spent any time together.  She took the seat beside him, and observed the stage.  

The Griffon had moved from where she had seen him last to a position by the piano.  There he, along with Largo the pianist, and Concerto the first chair violinist were engaged in what Vinyl would have called an ad hoc jam session.  Largo and the Griffon, who had an acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder, played a simple rhythm while Concerto’s violin sang out an improvised melody.  

After a few minutes of playing the lead, he matched their rhythm while the Griffon took the lead on his guitar.  His talons allowing him to play intricate arpeggios and scales on his instrument that only a prodigal Unicorn could hope to match.  Like Concerto, he played for several minutes before passing the melody along to Largo.  The Earth pony grinned in a way Octavia hadn’t seen in a very long time as he played a surprisingly jazzy tune while the violin and guitar kept rhythm.

“Tell me, Octavia,” Allegro started softly. “What’s on your mind?”

Octavia was quiet for a minute before she answered, her violet eyes staring vacantly into space.

“I don’t know.  I just…I just feel wrong not being with Vinyl right now.” She admitted.  “It—it’s like I’m abandoning her when she needs me.” 

Allegro nodded, “Did Vinyl have anything to say about you playing tonight?”

“She insisted on it.” Octavia chuckled.  “It was either walk here on my own, or she would have Lyra drag me here.

Allegro smirked, the thought of Lyra forcibly dragging a typically dignified and reserved mare like Octavia was something he would probably pay to witness.

“So, Vinyl insisted you be here tonight, but you feel at odds about it?” he asked.

Octavia nodded sadly, her eyes downcast.  Allegro hummed, remaining quiet for a moment before he spoke again.

“So, are you the rhythm or the melody?”  He asked, his query interrupting Octavia’s thoughts.

“Pardon?” She asked in confusion, the old Unicorn chuckled, his eyes watching the musicians below.

“Forgive this old composers analogy.” He smiled. “A strong, loving relationship is a beautiful harmony.  Harmony is the successful fusion of rhythm with melody.  The melody leads the mind, makes our imaginations dance.  The rhythm is the foundation, the often-understated core that appeals to our emotions and keeps us honest.   

Back when I was a music student, when dirt was young, my teacher called them the meat and bones.  Melody was the meat, rhythm the bones.  One couldn’t function without the other, no matter how strong they were individually.  Over the years I’ve learned it applied to more than just my music.  For example, take my relationship with my wife.  

She’s the rhythm in my life.  Always there for me, always with a clear perspective and a steadfast resolve.  When I doubt myself, when I feel overwhelmed, she’s there to support me.  Conversely, I draw her out of her shell.  I push her to try new things, explore new ideas, and express herself.”  Allegro chuckled softly, a distant smile on his lips. 

“I can’t pretend to understand how difficult this must be for the both of you,” He said, placing a hoof on her shoulder, “but if it were me, and my wife was in Vinyl’s position…” he hesitated, a chill running down his spine at the thought, “if I felt that my performing helped her emotionally, then I would give the performance of my life.”

Octavia remained quiet as she mulled over his words.  He patted her shoulder as he rose to his hooves.

“The doors open in two hours.  Think it over, and remember that this orchestra is a family.  We’re all here for you if you need to talk.”  He said gently before he left her to her thoughts.

What was Vinyl to her?  The answer was seemingly obvious.  Vinyl was the love of her life, but what did that love entail?  The cellist had never particularly analogized and analyzed their relationship like Allegro had.  It was just the two of them, together in almost everything.  When they were in college, Vinyl had been there for Octavia when she had struggled though her difficult moments.  Likewise, Octavia had been there to comfort Vinyl when she had been unable to cope with the often-vicious condescension of traditional musicians.

The realization struck Octavia like a shot; Vinyl was her melody.  Before Vinyl had become a part of her life, Octavia was just a lonely rhythm.  She had always been the good girl, demure and proper.  She did her schoolwork, learned her cello, and kept to herself.  Then she had been introduced to Vinyl, an unchained melody with no rhythm to focus her.  Together they had managed to find their harmony, and happiness.  Further still, Vinyl had given Octavia the courage and the drive to find a melody of her own. 

After that cold afternoon in the rain, Octavia had been terrified to let Vinyl out of sight.  She felt guilty, guilty that it had been Vinyl to be hurt instead of her.  Guilty that she had so casually let her love walk away alone.  Guilty that she could do all the things she loved, while Vinyl could only lie and watch as her life fell to pieces around her.  

Octavia could see Vinyl was doing her best to put on a brave face and conceal her feelings.  It was painfully obvious to the Earth pony, not because of any particular nonverbal tick Vinyl presented, but because of history.  She had seen Vinyl act brave and strong before, and she had believed it for the longest time.  Octavia sighed, leaning back in her seat as she recalled the day she found the mare beneath the mask.

They had been students at the Canterlot Music University, Equestria’s most prestigious college for up and coming musicians and composers.  Only the most promising young musicians were able to attend.  It was where Octavia had first met Lyra and Vinyl as well as Allegro.  Back then he had already become a successful composer and conductor for theaters and often served as a guest professor at the college when he was in town.

Lyra and Octavia met their freshmen semester in the symphony and had quickly become friends.  Octavia respected Lyra’s skill with harps and lyres, while the unicorn had deeply enjoyed hearing Octavia play here cello.  She had met Vinyl in passing as well, though both of them hadn’t taken a particular interest, positive or negative.

The summer before her third semester was when things changed, Lyra was looking to rent a townhouse off campus to live in with her marefriend Bon Bon, but the two couldn’t afford it on their own.  So they had reached out to their circle of friends to see who else would be willing to rent with them.  Octavia, having never liked dormitory living, signed on immediately, only finding out later, and to her embarrassing chagrin, that Vinyl had agreed as well.  

She had expected Vinyl to be an uncouth, vulgar, slob of a pony prone to bouts of hyperactivity and overreaction.  And while Vinyl certainly wouldn’t ever be mistaken for a well-to-do Canterlot mare, and had a sense of humor that vacillated between vulgar and peculiar, she was surprisingly organized, polite, and friendly.  The two formed an amicable, if cool relationship over the summer months.  

Octavia regretted those days.  Vinyl had always been friendly and went out of her way to try and engage the cellist.  For the most part Octavia had ignored the efforts, assuming Vinyl’s overtures were merely the superficial advances of a vapid mare that was at best harmless and at worst could distract her from her studies.  She still recalled the day that changed her opinion.

“I’m telling you, Octavia,” Arietta said, her voice laced with irritation, “my partner is bloody incompetent.”

Octavia quirked her eyebrow at her friend, Arietta was a light brown unicorn with a blonde mane.  She was an excellent soprano singer, and had a decent grasp of the piano, though her compositional skills were average at best.  She and Octavia had both been born and raised in Canterlot, though the young cellist liked to believe her Earth pony heritage left her a touch more humble than her Unicorn companion.

“Are we talking about your duet partner again or somepony else?” Octavia asked with a smirk.

“My composition partner, a dullard of a unicorn who thinks she’s a composer.” Arietta groaned.

“Is she one of those improvisational types that can’t read sheet music well?” Octavia asked.

“I’m not sure she’s even a proper musician.” The unicorn huffed. “The writing is so simplistic!  There’s no challenge to it!  Repetition seems to be her only real skill.” 

Octavia nodded, knowing better then to interrupt a ranting soprano.  She did value her eardrums after all.  She spent the majority of their walk nodding her head and occasionally mumbling an “I see” or “mm-hmm” to maintain the illusion she was actually paying attention.  It was easier to let Arietta’s rant run it’s course and just be done with it, and Octavia didn’t have the interest in a long lecture or debate.

“So,” Arietta finished as the two reached the end of their shared walk, “if you ever get paired with a blue-maned unicorn with an eighth note cutie mark, run for your bloody life.  She’s like, I don’t know … musical cancer.” 

Octavia froze for a moment.  She couldn’t be talking about Vinyl, could she?  The cellist didn’t offer an opinion on the matter as the two parted ways for their separate homes.  She felt a tingling sense of unease run down her spine.  Vinyl’s taste in music was … unique, to be sure, and from the little Octavia had heard of her original compositions they didn’t sound that technically interesting, but Octavia didn’t have the slightest idea of how to create the type of music that Vinyl specialized in.

“Perhaps she’s talking about a different Unicorn,” Octavia mused aloud, “It’s not like Vinyl is the only pony with blue hair and an eighth note cutie mark.”

The thought did little to soothe the unsettling tension she felt.  With a purposeful frown, she picked up her pace for home.  Lyra and Bon Bon botht worked late on Fridays, which often left Vinyl and Octavia alone with each other.  Usually the two kept to themselves.  Octavia would practice her cello or read while Vinyl would sequester herself away in her room working on whatever it was she did in there for hours on end.  Sometimes they would share a carry-in meal and make small talk.  Octavia decided tonight might be a good night for that, perhaps there was something to be learned about the Unicorn.

Entering the darkened house she took care to set her cello case somewhere safe before looking for Vinyl.  What struck her as peculiar was the quiet.  When Vinyl worked, she liked to work loud, without headphones.  She claimed that contained sound of the headphones didn’t allow her to notice irregularities when the sound was in an uncontrolled environment.  It had been another instance where Octavia had been nodding her head and saying “yes” without actually listening to the conversation.

“Vinyl?” she called.  

Hearing no response, Octavia simply assumed the mare must have gone out for something.  With a frown she made her way upstairs, mulling over the conversation with Arietta.  She paused when she reached Vinyl’s door, a strange sound catching her attention.  Pressing her ear to the door she listened carefully, silence greeted her for several long seconds before she heard it again; a choked cry, raw and primal.  Octavia’s heart skipped a beat, without thinking, she pushed the door open.  

She had seen Vinyl’s room before, while nopony would ever accuse the Unicorn of being a neat freak, there was a certain level of organization to her things.  Her desk was usually half-buried in papers and stacked with tools and parts for whatever gear she was playing with at the time.  Her gear she treated with the same reverence Octavia treated her cello or Lyra treated her lyre.  Today was vastly different from normal.

Hundreds of sheets of tablature were strewn about the floor, many torn into pieces and stomped upon.  Tools and gramophone parts were cast all about the room, some broken and others seemingly crushed underhoof.  Vinyl herself was curled up into a ball on her mattress, her head buried in her pillow that was bearing the full onslaught of her tears.

Octavia took a nervous step into the room, her lavender eyes taking in the destruction laid out before her.  She kneeled down to inspect a half shredded piece of parchment. The top piece was labeled “cello”, the one below it was written for violin, below that was yet another instrument.  Each one had a simple progression to play, but combined they formed a complex polychord.  On its own, it wasn’t terribly interesting for the musician playing his or her part, but she could see it being something special if all the pieces were combined in a symphony.

‘Is this what Arietta was upset about?’ she wondered, returning her attention to the distraught mare.  Swallowing hard, she stepped toward Vinyl’s bed.

“V—Vinyl?” she called hesitantly.

Vinyl’s shoulders sagged noticeably, her head slowly lifting from the pillow. Her brows were furrowed together, the whites of her eyes tinted pink, and her lips were pulled back into an anguished frown.  The fur on her cheeks and around her eyes was thoroughly saturated with countless tears.  Her eyes focused on Octavia momentarily, without her glasses she had trouble identifying the mare standing across her room.

“Go away.” She whimpered after a moment.

“Vinyl, w—what happened?  Are you alright?” Octavia took a step forward.  Vinyl’s frown turned into an enraged snarl.

“Get.   OUT!” She shouted, a burst of power from her horn shoving Octavia several feet back.

“Vinyl!”  Octavia shouted, both frightened and angered.  “You could have hurt me!”

“Just buck off.  Just … just please, go away.” The unicorn pleaded. “Just leave me alone, like you always do.”

Octavia stood her ground, albeit more wary of Vinyl’s capabilities now.

“Vinyl, why would you tear up all your compositions?” she asked softly.  Rage overtook Vinyl’s features.

“Why?  Why?!” The livid mare shouted, hopping off her bed.  Her magic roughly pulled multiple sheets from their resting place on the floor, shoving them just in front of Octavia’s snout. “Garbage!  It’s GAR-BAGE!” She screamed, crushing the papers in her telekinetic grip and throwing them into the wall with enough force to cause a loud thump.

"V—Vinly, calm down!” Octavia pleaded, stepping back from the Unicorn.

“Why?  Why should I?” Vinyl shouted, the tears streaming from her eyes. “Didn’t you hear the news?  Vinyl Scratch, the shame of Canterlot Music University!  It’s worthless tripe!  I can’t write music, I can’t play instruments, I can’t even land a steady bucking JOB!” she exploded, lashing out at her gramophone with a hoof.  The heavy metal box crashed to the floor with a loud bang.  Octavia spotted a red gash on Vinyl’s foreleg where she had struck the edge of the case.

Vinyl panted heavily, her face flushed red from the emotional catharsis.  The rage melted into anguish as she sank to the floor, surrounded by her ravage work.  Her hooves covered her eyes as a fresh wave of sobs wracked her body.

“It’s all been a waste,” she whimpered quietly, her small frame curling into a tight ball “all a waste.”

Octavia stared down in horror.  She couldn’t believe that this was the same happy-go-lucky mare that she had shared a home with.  Had the Vinyl she known always been a charade?  An insecure mare hiding behind a smile and a mask of indifference?

The cellist did the only thing she could think of; she lay beside Vinyl, pulled her into a hug, and held her while she wept.

Sighing heavily she pressed her hooves over her eyes.  The years between that fateful night had been full of the highest highs and now had found their lowest low.  Vinyl hadn’t written symphony since that night, no matter how much Octavia had encouraged her to try.  She still held out hope that one day Vinyl would pick up the quill again to pen her long neglected symphony, though after her accident, the cellist would be willing to settle for Vinyl just having use of her forelegs.

“What would you do if you were in my position, love?” She whispered to herself, only the distant murmurs of the musicians below her answered.  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, a memory from Vinyl’s second night in the hospital echoed in her mind.

“Hey Tavi?” Vinyl had asked, her voice trembling from the pain in her body.

“Hmm?”

“Do…Do you think you could you play for me, please?” 

Octavia chuckled, a sad smile gracing her lips.

“You would want me to play, wouldn’t you?” She lamented quietly.  With a light groan, she rose to her hooves and stretched her stiff muscles. 

“Anything for you, Vinyl.” She whispered as she made her way downstairs.

The musicians were taking their last opportunity to walk around the theater, use the restroom, and visit the cocktail lounge before the doors opened to let in the audience.  Octavia spotted Lyra engaging in her preshow ritual of a simple mixed drink to calm her nerves.  It never ceased to amuse the cellist that Lyra could perform on a lonely park bench in Ponyville all day and all night without a care in the world, but playing in an orchestra made her nervous.

She knew better then to interrupt the Unicorn’s drink, as did most of the other musicians they had worked with before.  Lyra was a very grouchy pony until her glass was empty.  Octavia wandered the lobby for a little while, sharing a brief hello with various musicians, until a sandwich board caught her attention.  


“Tonight,
The Manehattan Syphony Orchestra
Is proud to present:
The Sounds of Modern Equestria and Beyond

Featuring compositions from Equestria’s greatest living composers 
As well as special guest performances from lands abroad.”


It occurred to Octavia, with no small amount of shame that she had never once asked what the show was about.  Allegro had merely offered her work, and she had accepted without anything more then a date and time to mark in her calendar.  On one hoof, it was refreshing to play songs that were newer then the concept of locomotives, on the other hoof she highly doubted the probability of this show succeeding with the stuffy old crowed that tended to purchase tickets to the symphony.

Octavia meandered about the theater for a while longer before returning backstage to put on her tailed tuxedo jacket and reaffirm her bowtie was on straight.  After giving herself a once over in a mirror she made her way to the stage and took up her cello, checking the tuning one more time.  

She turned the pages in her binder back to the beginning and read the name of the piece, Generations (Overture), by one Jerry Goldhoof.  Reading through the piece, she realized why she had so easily forgotten it.  There was simply little of interest for a musician of her caliber, no sweeping arpeggios of 32nd notes that pushed her abilities to their limit.  A supporting role was what her section seemed to be.  She felt a smile come to her lips as she recalled an old argument with Vinyl, not long after the Unicorn’s breakdown.

“No Tavi, you’re hearing the sections, but you’re not listening to the music!” the exasperated Unicorn groaned, her hooves flailing in front of her.  

“The music is made from the sections Vinyl.” Octavia deadpanned.  “And this is unconscionably boring for all of them.”

“Uhg!  You’re so fixated on every single tree that you can’t see the forest!” Vinyl shouted in exasperation.  

“There’s no forest to see.” Octavia grumbled.

Vinyl let out an annoyed shout before returning her gaze to Octavia, fire in her ruby eyes.  “You know what?  Stop.  Just stop.  Stop focusing on the strings, don’t obsess on the percussion, and don’t overthink the polychords, pentatonics, arpeggios, and syncopations!  Your ears are the problem here!”

“What in the world do you even mean?”

The alabaster hoof pressed against her chest

“Here, listen from here.  Stop hearing the musicians at work and start listening to the song they bring to life.  Feel its emotion in your gut, see the colors it paints in your mind!  The soul of a song isn’t in the notes alone!  When you look at a painting do you just see a bunch of brush strokes, or do you see another place?”

She switched to a different record, and let the first song play.

“Don’t hear musicians, listen to the song.”

Octavia sighed.  She tried, she really, truly tried, but Vinyl had never quite gotten her to see past the trees.  She had long since abandoned hope for that particular project, but she would continue trying.  Perhaps one day, she could surprise the Unicorn with her own revelation.  She smiled, she could all but hear Vinyl whispering words of encouragement with a loving smile.

“I believe in you, Tavi.”  The absent mare would say.  Octavia felt a familiar pang of sadness in her chest.  She wished Vinyl could be backstage, or perhaps in a part of the audience to watch her perform.  Vinyl may not have preferred symphony, but she always did have an appreciation for it that Octavia couldn’t help but find romantic.  

She casually flipped through the pages of her music as the audience began to file into their seats.  The musicians all did their last minute rituals, practicing specific arpeggios, folding the corners of their music, tuning obsessively, whatever helped their preshow jitters.  To Octavia’s great surprise, the auditorium filled to capacatiy with ponies from their late teens to their late sixties all in attendance.  She couldn’t recall ever seeing such an actuarially diversified audience before.  

About five minutes after seats were filled, Allegro made his appearance on stage, wearing his tuxedo jacket and a back bowtie.  The audience politely stomped their hooves at the promise of the show’s imminent beginning.  Allegro bowed respectfully to the audience before stepping onto his pedestal, his horn flaring to life and taking his old baton from it’s resting place on his podium.  With a nod to the first chairs he counted them into their first song. 

The strings began the piece, a quiet, slowly building note.  A solitary horn called out from the back of the orchestra, several beats of a drum punctuating the notes.  A second horn joined the first as the strings and woodwinds slowly built the piece to a resounding peak that quickly faded into a reflective section.  The strings held the rhythem, understated and nostalgic, while the horn player carried a lonely melody.  Octavia heard Vinyl’s words echo in her mind:


“Feel it’s emotion, hear it’s story.”


Octavia nearly lost control of her bow.  She could see it, like the sun rising over a field of ripened wheat in the crisp autumn air.  The harmony of strings, woodwind, percussion, and brass combined into a sweeping resolve, no one section holding power over another.  Each section became integral to the piece, small pieces forming a greater whole.  She could almost see Vinyl smiling in her mind.

The first section ended as it began, the strings holding a single note.  Again the lonely horn sang out a lonely melody before it was joined by other horns.  A wind chime cast it’s ethereal sound over them, her mind called to life visions of a starry sky, the world light by the pale light of Princess Luna’s moon.  The strings were more reserved than in the first section, the violins played a delicate counter melody with the brass before all the sections joined in a gentle resolve.  

Silence reigned over the auditorium for several long seconds as the song ended before the rapturous applause from the audience greeted them.  Octavia could see Allegro smiling happily, though he remained at his podium.  He let the audience quiet down before he counted in the next song.

This time the percussion took the lead, the xylophonist tapping out an inquisitive rhythm.  Lyra’s harp joined them, plucking a melody that spoke of childlike curiosity.  Layers of music gradually added ontop of those sections, the bass behind Octavia giving weight to certain beats. Before fading away.  The strings eventually joined the piece, playing a simple arpeggio that gave energy to the song and danced with the other sections.  

Little by little things built upon each other, the choir casting an ethereal mood over the orchestra.  The energy of the strings built to a zenith before fading just as quickly, the entire orchestra fading to the understated beat of drums while the choir took sole command of the performance.  The sopranos, altos, and tenors, were broken into subsections that melted in to a polychord before fading away to the gentle accompaniment of the strings.

The audience again made their approval known, louder then before.  Allegro again waited for their silence before beginning the next song.  Largo took the lead, his piano counting out a gentle rhythm, the strings filling in behind him.  The choir sang an understated hymn through which Octavia could hear Lyra’s harp building into the rhythm.  

Her mind flooded with memories of her first winter with Vinyl, the two of them walking through the snowy streets, and the sky overcast with a uniform grey.  She could almost hear the gentle sound of snowfall and the crunch of snow underhoof.  She could almost smell the winter air that filled her lungs, and she could all but feel Vinyl’s warmth driving away the cold.

Octavia closed her eyes, this song was hers to lead and she had long ago memorized her notes.  Her cello called out its mournful song as her bow ran over the strings.  She poured all her worry, all her sadness, and all her love into her music.  The notes that only hours ago had been flat and lifeless seemed to dance through the air.  She didn’t realize she had been crying until the song was over and the cheering filled her ears.  She looked around, momentarily confused.  She could see several members of the orchestra trying to inconspicuously wipe their eyes.  Allegro was smiling directly at her, his own eyes glistening.  He offered a simple nod, the pride clear in his visage.

The next song was significantly more upbeat then the last one.  A tribal percussion and an active choir carried the orchestra on a world-spanning journey.  The two Zebras she had seen earlier stepped to the front of the stage where microphones had been set up earlier.  The bassist behind Octavia took sole control of the song as the first zebra began to sing in Zebrican.

“Baba yetu, yetu uliye Mbinguni yetu, yetu, amina! Baba yetu, yetu, uliye, jina lako litukuzwe.” His voice rang clearly over the audience, the choir echoing his verse.

“Utupe leo chakula chetu,” the second Zebra sang, his baritone voice meshing well with his companions, “tunachohitaji utusamehe” 

“Makosa yetu, hey!” The first stallion called, smiling gleefully.

“Kama nasi tunavyowasamehe, waliotukosea usitutie” The second answered

“Katika majaribu, lakini” took over the verse, both stallions singing the next phrase.

“Utuokoe, na yule, milelea milele!”

The symphony took over again, the strings and choir building a power in the piece that culminated in the baritone Zebra singing out his solo with a passion Octavia rarely heard.  His companion’s verse intertwined with own, both stallions lost in their music, their words unknowable to all of the ponies in the room, but still enrapturing in their feeling.  Both stallions bowed graciously when the song ended, the accolades of the crowed washing over them.

There was a bit of a pause as the next song set up, the Griffoness taking the stage with her companion, a Griffon wielding a guitar.  When they were both ready Allegro counted in the song.  Octavia took the moment to read the title of the piece, a word written in the Griffon language dominated the header, a translation was marked below in equestrian:  Praan, ‘Life’. 

Largo’s piano began to play an upbeat melody, the Griffon’s guitar joining him after a few measures, the unique pizzicato sound interplaying with the percussion and the piano.  The Griffoness began her part in the language of her people. Her voice soared over the audience, the words and music flowing together like nothing Octavia had ever been a part of before.  The guitar gave power to the rhythm; the heavy percussion carried them along at a brisk pace.  

Octavia could see it in her mind, soaring through the clouds of the Griffon kingdoms, an unfettered joy in their gift of flight.  The song harkened to mind a jubilant exaltation for living.  Octavia smiled, Vinyl would have loved the song.  And if it was good enough for Vinyl, then Octavia would pour her soul into her part, simplistic as it might have otherwise been.  

There was a brief intermission after the song, after which the rest of the show went by seemingly at a breakneck pace for the cellist.  Vinyl might not have been able to see her perform in person, but as long as the Unicorn was alive, Octavia could always feel her loving support.  Just before the finale song, Allegro took a moment to address the audience for the first time.  He thanked them for their patronage, thanked the orchestra for their performance, and gently reminded them of the donation box set up in the lobby for Vinyl’s medical bills.

During his speech the Griffon guitarist had returned to the stage, sitting not too far from Octavia on a wooden stool.  Beside him was a pegasus mare, her coat the same color as Vinyl’s but with a long sandy blonde mane.  When Allegro finished his speech with one last bow to the audience he counted them in.

The guitarist plucked a pair of harmonic notes, the orchestra joining him in a restrained song.  As the mare began to sing her song, emotion swelled through the auditorium.  There would be no dry eyes in the building before she was done.


Lay down
Your sweet and weary head
Night is falling
You’ve come to journey's end
Sleep now
And dream of the ones who came before
They are calling
From across the distant shore

Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see
All of your fears will pass away
Safe in my arms
You're only sleeping

What can you see
On the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home

And all will turn
To silver glass
A light on the water
All souls pass

Hope fades
Into the world of night
Through shadows falling
Out of memory and time
Don't say: «We have come now to the end»
White shores are calling
You and I will meet again

And you'll be here in my arms
Just sleeping

What can you see
On the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home

And all will turn
To silver glass
A light on the water
All souls pass

And all will turn 
To silver glass
A light on the water
Grey ships pass 
Into the West


> What Makes Us Whole
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the empty offices of the Manehattan Gazette, Red Top hummed a simple melody to himself as he awaited his lone appointment for the day.  He was sitting comfortably behind his desk, which he had cleaned specifically for the occasion.  Only a cup full of pencils, a notepad, a quill, an inkwell, and a manila folder rested on the well-worn desk.  It wasn’t terribly often that anypony was in the offices on a Friday, but today was a special exception.

In truth, he had been expecting this day to arrive sooner or later.  It wasn’t the first time he had published a story that had ruffled somepony’s feathers, nor the first time he had been informed a lawyer was coming.  However it was probably the first time in his life that Red Top had known the instant he had approved an article he would catch serious flak for it.

It had been nearly three weeks to the day that the Enquirer had gone to newsstands with Vinyl’s face printed on the front page.  A little more than ten days after that he had received a letter from a lawyer named Finagle who claimed to represent Vinyl Scratch.  Red Top had expected that, as such he had immediately replied with an offer for the attorney to come to his office so they could ‘negotiate an amicable settlement’.  Some minor schedule aligning later and Red Top now found himself alone in his office, awaiting the inevitable arrival of his guests.

Red titled his head back to inspect the tiles of the ceiling.  A small frown pulled at the corners of his lips as he noticed a small spot of water damage on a tile not too far from his desk.  Red would have to get that tile replaced on Monday in addition to calling a roofer to inspect the shingles.  Some ponies would consider that sort of reaction to be overkill for such a small amount of water damage.  Red Top saw the insignificant stain for the malignant cancer that it was.  A single particulate of infection just waiting to spread through the rest of his ceiling.

Red Top filed that particular issue to the back of his mind; he had more important things to deal with first. First and foremost on his mind was simply how incredibly bored he was.  Red was used to being in the thick of things with dozens of ponies all around him.  He wasn’t fond of sitting and waiting for things to happen.  That was part of the reason why he had become a reporter in the first place.  

He sighed and gave a gentle nudge to his pencil cup, inching the vessel ever so slightly to the left.  He tapped his hoof on his desk for a moment before he nudged the cup back to the right.  Red groaned lightly and leaned forward until the tip of his horn poked the surface of his desk.  Wincing, he sat back up and grumbled.

“Note to self,” he grumbled, “buy a working radio for the office.”

Red Top shifted his attention to the left where he observed the rows of empty writing desks his employees wrote the weekly articles on.  He shifted his gaze to the right where he observed the printing presses, currently silent and forgotten.  Red allowed a foolish smirk to cross his face.

“Oh I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts,” he sang to his empty office, “there they are all standing in a row.  Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head.  Give 'em a twist, a flick of the wrist.  That's what the showcolt said!”

Red paused for a breath, the air falling silent as he came to a realization. “I don’t know the rest of the lyrics.  Well… ponyfeathers.”

After a seemingly interminable wait, Red’s ears perked as he heard the distinctive clip-clop of hooves on the stairs up to his office.  He arched an eyebrow in concern when he realized it was more than one pony’s hoofsteps.  The shopkeeper he employed downstairs had been directed to simply allow the attorney access to Red’s office.  She didn’t come up the stairs unless there was a specific reason.  Did the attorney bring a legal associate or a police pony?  If so, did that mean he was under arrest for something?  

Red Top dismissed that theory outright.  He knew the laws in Manehattan, and while he certainly bent them from time to time, he was always careful to never go too far.  The Vinyl Scratch case was perhaps the most risqué thing he’d ever published.  Even still, the worst they could do to him was hit him with a pittance of a fine and a slap on the fetlock.  The only pony at risk of actual legal trouble was Quick Snap, and Red didn’t have any plans to throw away such a useful pony that easily.

He relaxed slightly when both ponies came into view.  The pony in the lead was a serious looking unicorn stallion; beside him was an earth pony mare that looked like she had just eaten a quince.  The stallion had a slate blue coat with a mane that had gone mostly grey save for patches of dark blue.  His cutie mark depicted the golden scales of justice.  Despite his aging appearance, the unicorn’s brown eyes were sharp and clear.  Red Top forced himself to keep an easygoing appearance; this unicorn wasn’t one to be taken lightly.  

The earth pony mare, on the other hoof, he wasn’t so sure about.  She had a goldish-grey coat, a long iron-grey mane and tail, and lovely mulberry colored eyes.  Around her neck she wore a white collar with a well-kept pink bowtie.  Red was able to catch a glimpse of her cutie mark, a treble clef that matched her eyes in color.  Her mark gave Red Top pause, mostly from confusion.

‘Why would a musician be here?’ he wondered for a moment before the realization hit him.  Red struggled to prevent a laugh from escaping his lips, ‘this just got very interesting.’

Red Top stood up and smiled pleasantly as the pair approached his desk. “Good morning.”

“Mr. Red Top,” the stallion acknowledged with a civil nod, “I am Mr. Finn, this is Octavia.

The mare, Octavia, said nothing.  Her mulberry eyes narrow and full of anger.

“A pleasure to meet you both.  Please, take a seat,” Red motioned to the space in front of his desk, “May I offer you both something to drink?  Coffee, water?”

“Nothing for me, thank you,” Finn said.

Octavia simply shook her head.

“Straight to business then,” Red noted with another polite smile, “very well then.  I know what brings you here, Mr. Finn, but I’m curious what brings you along Ms. Octavia.”

Octavia shot a glance to Finn, who gave her a small nod.

“I’m here representing Vinyl.” She answered, her tone cold.

“That’s what he’s here for,” Red pointed a hoof to Finn.

“And so am I,” Octavia insisted.

“Octavia has every right to be here, Red Top.” Finn stated.

“Only if she is a legal assistant or family of Vinyl Scratch.  Otherwise I’m not obligated to let her stay for this meeting.”

“What makes you think I’m neither?” Octavia hissed.  Finn sighed softly; a nearly imperceptible shake of his head didn’t go unnoticed by Red Top. 

“You’re cutie mark is a treble clef,” Red pointed a hoof to her flank, “which means you’re a musician of some kind.  Secondly you’re an earth pony, and Vinyl is a unicorn, meaning you can’t be a sibling.”

“My relationship with Vinyl isn’t your concern.” Octavia said.

“It is if you want to sit in this meeting, otherwise I’m not obligated to let you stay.” Red Top answered.

“Octavia has family rights as Vinyl’s fiancé,” Finn stated, “and I ask you direct your commentary to me, Red Top.  Otherwise I’m sure we could arrange a court date.”

Red arched and eyebrow and allowed himself an amused smirk. “Very well, Mr. Finn.”

“Now then, we’re here to discuss the slanderous article you’ve published against Vinyl as well as the illicit use of her image.” Finn leaned forward, his forelegs resting easily on the desk.

“Yes, about that,” Red pressed his hoof down on the manila folder in front of him and slid it towards Finn.

Finn took the folder in his magic and opened it up.  To both his and Octavia’s surprise, the folder contained the printed photo’s of Vinyl Scratch, the negatives, and a sealed envelope.  Finn and Octavia shared a surprised glance.  Red Top merely smiled as they looked back to him.

“What’s this about, Red?” Finn asked warily.

“I have no interest in a prolonged legal battle or a public ‘he-said, she-said’, so I suppose you could say this is a preemptive peace offering.” Red said with a shrug.  “I’m willing to give you the photographs we used and the negatives.  Furthermore I will also personally pen a letter of apology in our next issue, there’s a draft of it at the back of the file.  Lastly, to show I’m not such a bad pony, I’ve written a check for Vinyl Scratch.  I’m not sure what her expenses are yet, but it should make a sizeable dent in her medical bills.  I think you’ll agree that this is a very reasonable offer.  Everypony wins.”

“And how does this in any way repair the damage you’ve caused to Vinyl’s reputation?” Octavia demanded.

“I caused nothing,” Red pressed his hoof to his chest, “I don’t even write the articles in the paper.”

“You accused Vinyl of drug use!” Octavia growled.

“We speculated possible causes of her injuries.  That’s what gossip columns do.” Red Top explained patiently. “We didn’t say anything definitive about anything.  Also the statistics we sighted pertaining to the use of drugs by musicians in Vinyl’s genre were accurate numbers from a study by the Manehattan Medical College.  We sighted the data and allow the readers to draw their own conclusions.”

“The presentation of the data did strongly suggest you were accusing Vinyl of illicit drug use,” Finn said.

“Correlation is not causation,” Red Top countered. “In either case, you are both free to read the draft letter I have provided in the file.  The next issue will be go to print next week, and with your permission, I will publish the letter in that issue.”

“We also want the name of the photographer you sent to get Vinyl’s picture.” Finn said.

“That I can’t help you with.” Red Top said.

“I beg to differ,” Octavia said.

“Beg all you like, Miss.  Doesn’t change the fact that I have no idea who took the photos.  They were delivered to this office by an unknown party,” Red lied.

“And you expect me to believe that?” Octavia demanded.

“You can believe anything you like, that’s the fun part of having free will.  Still, it wouldn’t make it true.” Red Top replied.

“So we are to take you at your word that you have no idea who snuck into the hospital room of an unconscious mare and took multiple photographs?” Finn asked dubiously. “What if I was to subpoena all your records and interview all your employees?”

“You are certainly more than welcome to do so.  However, you’d find a whole lot of nothing, and my current offer becomes invalid.” Red said as he gave an uninterested shrug.

Finn and Octavia exchanged a glance for a moment before Finn spoke.

“Would you give us a few moments in private?” Finn asked.

Red nodded as he stood up. “Of course, take all the time you need.” 

‘Checkmate.’ Red thought with a smirk as he trotted downstairs.

Finn kept his eyes on Red Top until the red unicorn had disappeared down the stairs.  He waited a few more moments before he turned to face Octavia.  The cellist’s eyes contained a torrent of emotions: anger, fear, hope, and  more all vying for dominance.  He gave her credit for looking as composed as she did under the circumstances.

“How are you holding up?” Finn asked.

Octavia gave him a noncommittal shrug, “I don’t know, this isn’t what I expected.”

Finn chuckled.  “Neither did I.”

“So, what are the options?” Octavia asked.

“Let’s look at this letter and the check first, then we’ll go from there.” Finn said.  

An azure glow enveloped his horn as he channeled his magic.  The envelope, wrapped in his ethereal grasp, floated above the table where he opened it and extracted the note and the check.  Both Finn and Octavia’s eyebrows shot up at the hefty number written out to Vinyl.

“W-what is this?” Octavia sputtered.

“It’s a buyout,” Finn said, “Red wants to offer you and Vinyl a big shiny carrot right up front.  If you refuse the offer then he gets to claim the moral high ground in any court proceedings.”

“So, what do we do?” Octavia asked.

“Well, about how much of Vinyl’s medical expenses do you think this check will cover?” Finn asked as he began reading the letter.

“It would certainly cut a large chunk of it,” she answered after a moment's thought. 

Finn nodded slowly, his hoof rubbing his chin as he weighed the options in his mind.

“Octavia, it’s my professional opinion that you accept this offer, now. With the stipulation, of course, that we have final approval of the apology letter and we get an agreement he will never mention you or Vinyl ever again.”

Octavia tried not to let her disappointment show.  “Really?  Is there nothing else we can do?”

“Well, we could always pursue a court case,” Finn suggested.

Octavia sensed his hesitation on that specific option.  “But?” she asked, her voice soft.

Finn allowed himself a light sigh before he spoke.  “But if we pursue court action, I highly doubt we would get a better settlement that this.  Furthermore, all court proceedings are on the public record.  In a jury trial, this meeting would be brought up by his defense.  While I could make a case that it’s a self-serving maneuver to stave off stronger legal charges the jury would see it as an act of honest recompense by Red Top. 

"On the other hoof, we would be perceived as greedy and vindictive, particularly in the face of an offer as generous as this.” Finn explained, pointing his hoof to the check sitting between them.

“But given the circumstances, wouldn’t a jury see our case as justifiable outrage?” Octavia asked.

“Some might,” Finn agreed, “but again: once this offer is laid out for a jury it severely undermines our potential case.”

Octavia sighed and pressed her head into her hooves.  “What’s the best case and worse case scenarios if we reject this offer?”

Finn pursed his lips and folded his forelegs across his chest as he thought the question over.  “Well, best case scenario would likely be an offer similar to this.  Maybe a bit more money, maybe a bit less, it’s impossible to guess that.  The worst case scenario would be the jury rules in Red Top’s favor and all we get is his legal bill.”

Octavia’s entire posture seemed to deflate from Finn’s words.  Her ears folded back, her shoulders sank, and the fire in her eyes faded to despair.  Finn frowned and rubbed at her back with a hoof.

“I’m fairly confidant that if you wanted to pursue a court case that we would win something,” Finn reassured her.  “I doubt it would be as nice as what we’ve been offered now, but it would in all likelihood be similar.”

Octavia bit her bottom lip as she considered Finn’s information.  She wanted nothing more than to punish Red Top for what he put Vinyl through.  She wanted justice for the unicorn’s transgressions.  Vinyl deserved that satisfaction at the very least.  However, to do that Octavia would have to risk what was left of Vinyl’s already shattered reputation.  

She ran her hoof through her bangs and sighed.  It was simply academic.  Vinyl’s reputation, and consequently her sense of self-worth, was all but gone.  What was left could be easily lost in a lengthy court battle, not to mention the media battle that Red Top would no doubt bring along with him.  The risk was too great for the prospective reward.

A knot formed in Octavia’s throat as she tried to accept the offer in her mind.  Bitter medicine would have been like the finest of wines in comparison to this.  As far as Octavia was concerned, she was about to accept blood money.  In exchange she had a tacit promise that Red Top would leave them alone.

At last, Octavia managed a nod.   She didn’t like it, but she didn’t see a way to get a more favorable result.   At least, not without risking far too much for far too little in return.  All she could do was hope that Vinyl would understand her reasoning.

‘I keep failing you, Vinyl,’ Octavia’s posture sank further from the thought.

Finn gave her a gentle nudge to rouse Octavia from her thoughts.  She blinked in confusion for a moment before she noticed Red Top had returned, a kettle of tea and three cups held in his magic.  He casually walked over to the desk where he set the cups down and filled all three.

“I know you said you didn’t want anything, but if you change your mind these will be here for you.” He explained.

“Thank you,” Finn said, his own magic lifting the nearest cup to his lips where he took a polite sip.  

Octavia took the second cup in her hooves and took a small sip as well, if for no other reason than to maintain decorum.  The warm liquid did little to ease the cold pit that formed in her gut at from the deal.  Red Top settled in behind his desk and gave them a moment before he spoke.

“So, have you come to a decision?” he asked.

“Yes,” Finn began, setting his cup down. “We will accept your offer with certain provisions.”

“Such as?” Red asked.

“Your letter of apology,” Finn held the draft in his telekinetic grasp, “we get the final approval of it.”

“Agreed, anything else?” Red asked with a polite smile.

“After this business is done, you leave Vinyl and everypony affiliated with her alone.  No follow up stories, no interview attempts, interviews, nothing.” 

“Oh, I think I can live with that arrangement.” Red Top said, a smile teasing at the corner of his lips.

“Then we have a deal.” Finn said.

“Excellent!” Red exclaimed, his magic snatching the check from the desk.  “Just let me sign this and we’ll be golden.”

Octavia forced a curt nod, unable to stomach words.  Red laid the check in front of him before taking a quill in his magic.  After dipping it into the inkwell he signed the check with practiced efficiency.  He blew gently on the wet ink to speed the drying process, ensuring it was dry as possible before he held it out to Finn.

“And there you have it,” Red said, his smile never wavering.

Finn took the check in his own magic and quickly inspected it before passing it to Octavia.  The cellist took the check and placed it in her saddlebag.

“Now then, shall we hammer this letter out now?” Red asked.

“Octavia, do you have time for that?” Finn asked.

Octavia glanced to the wall clock.  It was nearing noon, and today was an important day for Vinyl.  After weeks of bitter work and slow progress Vinyl had finally reached a milestone.  Today was the day Soma was planning to start her on assisted walking.  Not Celestia, Discord, or Nightmare Moon would have stopped Octavia from being with Vinyl when she tried those first tentative steps.

“Not today I don’t.” She answered.

“Well then, shall we schedule this for another time or may Mr. Finn and I work this out on our own?” Red Top asked.

‘Oh what I would give to hit you right now,’ Octavia thought bitterly.

“I will come back first thing tomorrow morning.  We’ll get this matter finished then.” Octavia said.

Red Top nodded, sensing it was in his best interests not to dispute the mare on that particular matter.  Octavia and Finn wasted no time in excusing themselves from the meeting. Finn gave the pictures and negatives to Octavia to keep or destroy at her own discretion.  As they left Red Top’s office Octavia allowed herself a weary sigh.

“Thank you again for agreeing to help Vinyl and I.” She said as the trotted down the sidewalk.

“It’s nothing, really.” Finn responded kindly. “Poultice feels terrible for what happened.”

“Your brother is a good stallion.” Octavia said.

“He has his moments, I suppose.” Finn chuckled.  “If you see him, say hi for me.”

“I will, thank you again Mr. Finagle.” Octavia said.

“I’ll see you here tomorrow morning.” Finn said as they parted ways.

Octavia hesitated for a few moments while she considered the most efficient way to go about the rest of her day.  If she made good time, she could make it to the bank to deposit the check before they closed.  Barring any unexpected events, she would be back at the hospital with time to spare.

With a plan decided, Octavia trotted to the bank at a brisk pace.  Making it there in fairly good time, she was pleased to see it was fairly empty.  Hoofing over the check, Octavia forced herself not to smirk as both of the teller’s eyebrows shot up for a moment.  The teller mare quickly composed herself and—after getting her supervisor involved—deposited the check with minimal fuss.

From there it was a fairly easy walk back to the hospital.  Octavia almost stopped to get some lunch, but decided at the last minute she would rather eat with Vinyl.  The hospital’s café was by no means the best food in Equestria, but at least it was a place that Poultice would allow Vinyl to be taken in a wheelchair.

As she approached the hospital, she spotted Poultice sitting on one of the benches in the pavilion.  The old stallion seemed lost in thought, his eyes staring at nothing in particular.  In his lips was an old wooden pipe, thin tendrils of smoke drifting up from the bowl.  He snapped out of his reverie as he noticed Octavia approach.

“Hello, Octavia, how did everything go?”

“Well enough I suppose, I have to go back tomorrow morning to finalize a few things.  Finagle says hello, by the way.  Thank you again for introducing us.” She answered. 

“It was the least I could do given the circumstances.” Poultice said, a kind smile growing on his lips.

“Vinyl hasn’t started her new exercises yet, has she?” Octavia asked.

Poultice exhaled a slow puff of smoke before turning his pipe upside down and tapping the ashes into an ashtray.  He kept his eyes affixed on his pipe for a moment before he spoke. 

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about actually,” he began as blew the remaining ash from his pipe.  “There’s been a small complication."

Octavia’s heart skipped a beat. “What happened?  Is Vinyl alright?”

“Please, sit.” Poultice motioned her to the seat beside him.  

Octavia frowned, her mind struggling to manage her urge to run to Vinyl and her need to hear what Poultice had to say.  With a sigh she moved up to the bench and sat facing Poultice.  The stallion sighed wearily as he tucked his pipe away into the pocket of his white doctor’s jacket.

“About two hours ago, Vinyl had a little accident.”  Poultice began, immediately holding his hooves up in a placating manner.  “She’s fine, she’s fine.”

“What happened?” Octavia demanded, her tone harsher than she intended.

“Apparently, Vinyl needed to use the restroom.  Rather than call a nurse, she decided she would try to walk herself.”

“… Oh no.” Octavia gasped.

“She was able to support herself on her front legs for a moment before she fell, I don’t know if—” 

“Is she okay?” Octavia demanded.

“She split her lip open, which we had to stitch closed, and she jarred her neck a bit.  However the brace did its job and we don’t think she incurred any serious damage.” Poultice explained.

Octavia nodded, feeling faint from the new development. 

“What does concern me,” Poultice continued, “is that she hasn’t spoken to any of us since we found her.”

“What?” Octavia balked.

Poultice nodded.  “She’s been unresponsive to myself and the nurses since we found her.  The best we can get her to do is nod or shake her head.”

Octavia forced herself to take a deep breath as she put her head in her hooves.

“Octavia,” Poultice began hesitantly, “I know things have been extremely hard on the both of you recently, but has Vinyl confided in you about how she’s feeling?”

“What do you mean?” Octavia asked.

“Has she talked about her condition or how she’s coping with things?” Poultice clarified.

Octavia thought about it for a moment.  “Well, no, not really.  I mean, we talk of course, but mostly about simple things.  She talks about what’s on the radio, or books, or music, but that’s it really.”

Poultice furrowed his brows in concern.  “She hasn’t discussed her accident or her limitations?  Not a word about how she’s handling things?”

Octavia shook her head side-to-side. “Nothing, really.  She’s been upset by it, but Vinyl’s always been very private with her feelings.”

“I see,” Poultice nodded, “Octavia, would Vinyl consent to speaking with a psychologist?”

“What for?”

“I’m concerned about her mental well-being.  Given all that she’s been through, it wouldn’t surprise me for her to be severely depressed.”

“Let me talk to her,” Octavia said after a moments thought. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Alright,” Poultice nodded, “but I need you to promise me that if Vinyl starts developing signs of post-traumatic stress disorder you will let me know immediately.  It could greatly hinder her recovery if we don’t treat it.”

Octavia nodded before she hopped off the bench.  “I’ll let you know, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Poultice said.

Octavia quickly trotted upstairs to Vinyl’s room, her mind a veritable torrent of emotions.  Part of her was simply furious with Vinyl for attempting to walk without any help.  At the same time she wanted to empathize with her fiancé’s situation.  Octavia bit her tongue as she made her way into the room.

All of Octavia’s anger, all her questions, and all her potential words of encouragement turned to dust as she got a good look at Vinyl.  The bed had been propped up so Vinyl could see out of the windows.  Her bottom lip was marred by a deep red gash held together by several stiches.  Octavia could see the faint tint of blood along Vinyl’s chin.  More concerning, however, was the quiet sniffles from Vinyl and the trail of tears that ran down her cheeks.

As Octavia came into Vinyl’s view, the unicorn’s ears folded back.  Vinyl’s eyes flicked from Octavia to the bed sheets.  She couldn’t bring herself to look the cellist in the eyes.  Octavia’s heart sank.  She couldn’t bring herself to speak.  With a sigh, Octavia gingerly climbed into the bed, where she laid beside her lover for the first time in weeks.  Vinyl flinched as Octavia carefully wrapped her forelegs around the unicorn’s chest.

For a time, the only sounds in the room were Vinyl’s quiet sniffles and the gentle ticking of the clock.   Octavia didn’t mind.  She was content to lay there and simply hold Vinyl again.  After a long period of silence, Vinyl finally spoke.

“Tavi?” She said, her voice scarcely a whisper.

“Vinyl?”

“I… I wanna go home.” Vinyl choked, her voice cracking as she spoke.  “I wanna go home and see the movies, I wanna go home and see our friends again.  I wanna see the movies with you, or walk in the park. But…but I can’t even walk myself to the bathroom.”

“I know, love,” Octavia whispered, her forelegs strengthening their embrace.  “It’s going to be all right.”

“No… no it’s not.” Vinyl lamented. “I… I’m nothing but a burden to you.”

“You’re not a burden, Vinyl.” Octavia insisted, her brows furrowing in concern.

“Tavi,” Vinyl whimpered, “My gear is gone, my career is over.  I don’t even have my reputation anymore.  I’m…I’m just—”

Octavia’s left foreleg gently pressed against Vinyl’s lips, silencing the weeping mare.

“Vinyl Scratch, I don’t care if I have to carry you around on my back till I’m old and grey.  I don’t care if we’re homeless on the streets without a single bit to our names.  As long as it’s with you, I have all I need.”

“I just—” Vinyl exhaled a trembling breath. “I just don’t wanna make you suffer for me, Tavi.”

Octavia gave Vinyl a gentle squeeze.  “Vinyl, you can be the biggest pain in the flank I’ve ever met.  You can be stubborn, and crazy, and downright peculiar at the drop of a hat.  And yes, sometimes it does drive me insane.  But I wouldn’t trade a second of it for anything.  Not all the bits in the world, or the crown jewels, or wings and a horn.”

Vinyl let out a choked laugh.  “You never did know a good trade when you saw it.”

Octavia laid her hoof over Vinyl’s heart.  The steady rhythm was like music to her soul.  A comforting song she couldn’t live without.

“I don’t know about that Vinyl, but I got this,” she gently patted Vinyl’s chest, “in exchange for this.”

Octavia took Vinyl’s hoof in her own and guided it to her chest.  Holding the white hoof over her heart, Octavia watched Vinyl’s expression.  The unicorn desperately tried to blink away her tears, with little success.

“You’re what makes me whole, Vinyl.” Octavia began, her voice trembling.  “You’re the pony I want to wake up to every morning.  You’re the pony I want to hold every night.  And you’re the pony I want to grow old and grey with one day.”

“Tavi, you’re already grey.” Vinyl noted.

Octavia laughed as she carefully sat up so she could look Vinyl in the eye.  She smiled as she leaned forward, her forehead pressing up against Vinyl’s, mindful of course of Vinyl’s horn.

“I love you Vinyl, and no matter how bad things get or how long it takes we will go home, together.” Octavia promised

Vinyl remained silent for a moment before she brought her forelegs up.  The atrophied and trembling limbs wrapped around Octavia’s waist and held onto her like a life jacket.

“I love you too, Tavi.” 


> Peace by Piece
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“That’s it, Vinyl, just a little further,” Octavia said, doing her best to keep up a smile.

If Vinyl heard the encouragement, she didn’t acknowledge it with anything more than a grunt.  Soma had set Vinyl up in what she had affectionately referred to as a corral.  The corral was two steel railings set twenty-four inches apart.  A fabric harness was clipped onto the railings at four points. 

The harness, which was dyed a navy blue color, was shaped to the contours of a pony’s body.  It even had four holes for each leg and was sized appropriately for most mares and stallions.   The clips that secured it to the railings were small metal hoops that allowed it to easily slide down the length of the corral. 

The simple construction matched the utilitarian design of the room itself.  The floors were simple maple floorboards, their finish dulled from years of traffic, the walls were a soothing powder blue color, and the back wall was lined by cabinets built into a low countertop.  None of the cabinets were labeled, but Octavia had observed that none of the nurses, physicians, or therapists seemed to need a labeling system.  Or at least, not in a small room like the one she and Vinyl were currently in.

Vinyl had been less than thrilled with the setup and Octavia had her own reservations about it.  Still, Soma had insisted it would help teach Vinyl walk again.  And so it had been that almost every day Soma and a pair of nurses would secure Vinyl in the harness.  From that point, Vinyl on had one objective: to walk to the end of the corral where Octavia was waiting.

The harness had been initially adjusted to provide little resistance, meaning that Vinyl was able to slide from one end to the other with fairly little weight on her hooves.  Every day, Soma had the harness adjusted to provide more and more of a challenge, and for a little more than three weeks things had gone well enough.  Today, however,  was proving different.

Vinyl was seemingly stuck less than a quarter of the way down the corral, even after half an hour of trying her hardest.  Vinyl’s coat was matted in sweat and her legs all trembled uncontrollably.  Her right rear leg shook the worst, seemingly ready to give out at any time.  Vinyl’s left rear leg had been useless since the beginning.  The limb didn’t so much as twitch, instead it merely dragged behind Vinyl as she tried to walk.

“Vinyl, why don’t we take a break?” Soma suggested, her attention focused on Vinyl’s rear legs.

“I’m fine,” Vinyl answered through clenched teeth, “I can do this.”

“You’ve been working for a while now, Vinyl,” Soma said, “lets get you off your hooves for a few minutes and get some food into you.”

“I don’t need any food!” Vinyl spat, her tone far harsher than she had intended.

Neither Soma nor Octavia were particularly surprised by the small outburst.  The stress of therapy in addition to the many weeks she had accumulated in the hospital had eroded Vinyl’s patience to its limits.  Octavia frowned, everyday it seemed like more and more of her Vinyl was slipping away.

“You didn’t have anything for breakfast, Vinyl,” Octavia said, “perhaps a little something would help.”

“I told you I’m—” Vinyl yelped, more in surprise than pain as her rear leg gave out.  Her full weight settled into the harness, knocking the breath out of her, but otherwise leaving her unharmed. 

Soma and Octavia were at her side almost instantly.

“Are you alright, Vinyl?” Octavia asked, her hoof gently running over Vinyl’s back.

“I could use a pain pill,” Vinyl answered.

“Sorry, Vinyl, but you had one before we started, and Dr. Poultice wants you to start weaning off of them.  I’ll talk to the nurses to see when you can have another though, is that okay?” Soma said.

“… Sure,” Vinyl answered, her voice quiet and scratchy. 

“Okay, Vinyl, let’s get you out of there for a while,” Soma said as she grabbed a wheelchair in her magic.

“I can keep going,” Vinyl insisted, though even she didn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth.

“We’ll try again later today,” Soma promised, “how are you feeling, Vinyl?”

Vinyl shrugged.  “Fine, the legs are a little tired, I guess.”

Soma nodded.  “Just tired, no stiffness, soreness, or pins and needles in your legs?”

“This one is kinda sore,” Vinyl said, tapping her right thigh with a hoof, “But I still can’t feel the other one.”

Soma made a gentle humming sound, her horn flaring to life and pulling a pencil from her saddlebag.  “Vinyl, if you would be so kind as to close your eyes for me.”

Vinyl sighed even as she complied with the request.  Soma poked the graphite tip several times against the flesh of Vinyl’s right thigh.  She observed each subtle flinch that flickered over Vinyl’s face from the light prodding.  Without a word, she switched the pencil to Vinyl’s left thigh and poked.

Observing no reaction, Soma frowned and rubbed her chin with a hoof.  She repeated the process up and down Vinyl’s legs for several minutes before tucking the pencil back into her bag.

“Vinyl, can you feel me poking you?” Soma asked.

“I felt you poking my right leg,” Vinyl answered.

“And nothing in the left, not even a little tickle?” Soma asked again.

“No,” Vinyl said, the disappointment plain in her voice.

“I see.  Thank you, Vinyl, you can open your eyes again.”

“Thanks,” Vinyl said, her magic pulling her glasses off her face so she could easily rub her eyes with her fetlock.  “I’m never gonna get feeling back in that leg, am I?”

“Never say never, Vinyl,” Soma said with a hopeful smile.

“Please, don’t... just don’t.  Just... just tell me the truth,” Vinyl pleaded.

Soma shot a concerned look to Octavia, who merely offered her a grim nod to proceed.  Soma forced herself to keep a look of neutrality on her face, she hated giving patients bad news.  She especially hated it when the patient in question was such a young pony, like Vinyl.

“Well, Vinyl, we’ve been doing these exercises for a little more than a month now, and I would expect that if you were to regain feeling and full use of the leg, you would have shown more sign of recovery by this point.  The fact that you haven’t yet doesn’t mean you won’t at some point in the future, but—”

“What are my chances?” Vinyl interrupted.

“Beg pardon?” Soma asked, caught off guard by the question.

“What are my chances of getting my legs back like they used to be?” Vinyl asked.

Soma took a deliberate breath as she considered her words.  “There’s a chance that in a few years you could be walking, running, and doing everything else you were able to before, but I’d say the most realistic outcome is that you will require some assistance in your day to day movements.”

“How much assistance?” Vinyl asked.

“I honestly couldn’t tell you at this point.”

A silence settled over the room as Vinyl processed the information, her eyes downcast.  The clock on the wall counted out a steady rhythm in its gentle tick-tock, though each second seemed to drag into its own eternity.  Finally, Vinyl sniffled and forced her attention back to Soma.

“I see, what’s next?”

“Well, for now we’ll get you off your hooves to rest for a bit  and get some food into you—”   

“Enough about the damn food!” Vinyl snapped.

Soma held up a hoof in surrender as Octavia bit back a sigh.  The subject at least temporarily dropped, Octavia helped support Vinyl while Soma got her out of the harness and into the wheelchair.  Once Vinyl was securely buckled into the chair, Soma took a moment to gather her files and get her saddlebag on.

“Vinyl, with your permission, I’d like to get you fitted for leg braces.” Soma said.

“What good would those do?” Vinyl asked, wiping her cheek against her foreleg.

“You’ve made some excellent progress over the last few weeks, but I think we’re hitting a wall.  Your left leg has been continually problematic, and your right leg isn’t strong enough to cover for it yet.  With braces we can ease the burden on your muscles and it could get us over the hump we’ve run across.”

“How long would she have to wear them?” Octavia asked, her right foreleg gently resting on Vinyl’s shoulder.

“We won’t know that until we try them out for a while,” Soma answered.

Vinyl’s ears folded back.  “I will be able to walk again, right?”

Soma gave Vinyl a warm smile.  “You’re a fighter Vinyl, and you’ve made a lot of progress since we started.  So I think that you will, in time, and I think that the braces will help.”

“Okay, so how do I get those?”

“When I see you this evening I’ll bring a couple sets in your size.  We’ll get you set up with a pair that fits and then when you’re in the harness tomorrow we’ll have you wear them and see if they help.”

“Alright, thanks,” Vinyl said, her voice quiet and her expression distant.

“I’ll leave you two for now.  We’ll try again this afternoon once you’re more rested, Vinyl.” Soma said, her gaze shifting from Octavia to Vinyl.

“Yes, of course,” Octavia said, extending her hoof to Soma. “We can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done to help.”

Soma gave Octavia a warm smile, pressing her hoof against the cellist’s and giving it a gentle shake. “It’s what I do.  I’ll see you two later tonight for your evening session.”

Octavia pulled Soma into a friendly hug, a gesture that Soma kindly returned before she took her leave of them.  Octavia waited until she heard the door click shut; turning her attention to Vinyl, she trotted over and sat in front of the blue-maned mare.  Vinyl stared vacantly at the floor, her eyes unfocused and her ears low.  

Octavia let out a soft sigh, a sad frown forming on her lips.  Her eyes studied Vinyl’s body as she had done countless times before.  She noted how frail Vinyl had become as the  weeks stretched on. The muscles in Vinyl’s legs had atrophied while she had been confined to the bed.  Part of her current struggle in relearning to walk had been replacing the lost muscle mass.  That process had ground to a halt as well when Vinyl had slipped into her prolonged melancholy.  Vinyl’s appetite was just another in the long list of casualties.

“Your forehead’s healing nicely,” Octavia commented softly, reaching up with a hoof to brush Vinyl’s mane out of her eyes, “though you could use a mane cut.”

“If you say so,” Vinyl answered.

“Once your coat grows back in nopony will ever be able to tell you have the scar.” Octavia said.

Vinyl shrugged, the gesture almost imperceptible.

“Well, Vinyl, how about we go to the cafeteria and get something to eat?” Octavia asked.

An irritated growl escaped Vinyl’s throat. “I don’t want anything.”

“Well I don’t care, you need to eat and you’re going to even if I have to force it down your stubborn throat.” Octavia stated very firmly.

“I’m fine!”

“Like Hell you are!” Octavia snapped, “Vinyl, you’ve lost so much weight that I can count your ribs from here!”

“I’m fine,” Vinyl insisted for a second time, though her voice devoid of the conviction it had carried moments earlier.

Octavia closed her eyes and took a breath, forcing herself to calm down for a moment.  Once she was certain she had regained her usual composure, she sat in front of Vinyl’s wheelchair and sighed.  She reached out with her right hoof, lightly resting it over Vinyl’s left hoof.

“Vinyl, please,” Octavia began, her voice quiet,  “I’m worried about you.  I don’t know how else I can say it.”

Vinyl rubbed her face with her hooves and forced herself to take a deep breath.  “I’m just... just not hungry anymore, Tavi.”

“They said the drugs would have that effect, Vinyl, but you’re not going to get better if you don’t take in any nutrition.”

“Hospital food isn’t nutrition,” Vinyl grumbled, “it’s gruel.”

“Oh don’t be so melodramatic, the deli here makes perfectly fine food.”

“Clearly you haven’t eaten enough of it,” Vinyl chided, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Tell you what, how about we get some fruit and yogurt, even they can’t mess that up,” Octavia offered.

“Yogurt is gross,” Vinyl said with a pout.

“Well then I’ll eat your yogurt and you can eat my fruit cup.”

Vinyl snorted, and failed spectacularly to restrain the grin that spread over her face.  Octavia stared at the unicorn with a blank expression for several long seconds before the realization hit her.  She groaned and smacked herself in the forehead.

“Really, Vinyl?” she asked, despondently.

Vinyl squeezed her eyes shut and bit her tongue, unable to make a sound lest she burst into gales of laughter.

“You are utterly incorrigible sometimes,” Octavia said, casting a disapproving glare to her fiance.

“Y-you gotta cut me some slack, Tavi,” Vinyl managed to sputter through her constant snickers, “I’ve been pretty good given how long its been since we last got to fool around.”

“We’re not having this conversation!” Octavia stated, her grey cheeks flushing red.

“Why not, you’re cute when you’re all hot and bothered,” Vinyl retorted with a wink.

“How can you even have a sex drive with all the drugs they’ve been giving you?” 

Vinyl’s amusement faded from the question, the joy giving way to a sad smile. “I don’t have one, Tavi.  Not since... well... not since I got here."

Silence settled between the two for a moment, both mares keeping to their own thoughts.  Finally, Octavia stood and trotted behind the wheelchair.  Standing on her rear legs, she hooked her fetlocks around the handles and kissed the back of Vinyl’s head.

“Come on, let’s get some breakfast, then we can play a board game or listen to the radio for a while, how’s that sound?”

Vinyl gave a quiet sigh, she really didn’t want to eat, but she hated to see Tavi unhappy.  And since her accident, it seemed all Vinyl could do was leave her love unhappy.  Vinyl’s horn ignited, lifting her glasses from her snout as she raised a hoof to her eyes, gently trying to rub the weariness away.

“Can we at least eat it outside?”

Octavia thought the request over for a moment.  “Well, as long as the weather team hasn’t started the day’s storm yet, then I suppose that would be fine.”

“Hey, Tavi?”

“Hey, Vinyl?”

“I love you.”

Octavia smiled, lightly nuzzling Vinyl’s mane.  “I love you too.  Every sick, perverse, vulgar, maddening, beautiful inch of you.”

“Gee, you really know how to charm a mare, Tavi,” Vinyl said, rolling her eyes and smirking lightly.

Ocvtavia shrugged her shoulders before unlocking the wheelchair’s brakes and pushing Vinyl out of the spartan room.  “Perhaps, but it works on you.”

“... Cheater.”

“I get the feeling you’ll keep me.”

“Damn right I will.  Now, mush!” Vinyl proclaimed, her right foreleg pointed straight ahead.

Octavia rolled her eyes.  “You’re such a foal sometimes.”

“At least I don’t—”

“Another word and I will force feed you creamed spinach until your coat turns green.”

Vinyl pouted and folded her forelegs across her chest.  “Meanie.”

“I love you too, dear.”

Both Octavia and Vinyl couldn’t help a happy smile as they made their way through the wide halls of Manehattan General Hospital.  Despite the turmoil since Vinyl’s photo had been published, the difficulties of her rehabilitation, and the ruthless boredom of hospital life, things had been improving.  Octavia almost dared to hope that before the month was out Vinyl could be released from inpatient care and allowed to return home to Ponyville to complete her recovery.

“Hey, Tavi?” Vinyl spoke up, distracting Octavia from her thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Did Lyra and Bonnie make it back home alright?”

“I would presume so, their train should have arrived in Ponyville yesterday morning.”

Vinyl gave an acknowledging grunt, having long given up on attempting to nod with her collar still securing her neck.  “I need to write them a letter, apologize for the trouble I caused.”

“Vinyl, this wasn’t your fault, alright?  It was an accident that could have happened to anypony.  Lyra and Bon Bon know that just as well as everyone else does.” Octavia said.

Vinyl responded with a shrug.

After a few more minutes of walking, Octavia and Vinyl arrived at the large glass doors that led to the hospital’s garden.  The scenic scene never failed to bring a smile to Octavia’s lips.  Like Vinyl, she wasn’t particularly fond of cities.  Unlike Vinyl, she had the option for more profitable work in rural towns like Ponyville where wealthy ponies tended to keep vacation homes or host getaways with friends and business partners.

The hospitals garden space was very large by city standards.  Octavia guessed that nearly half a city block could fit into it should the hospital ever decide to sell the land.  She fervently hoped they never did.  The garden, full of blossoming trees, bushes, and flower beds was a bastion of peace in the chaos of Manehattan.  Many patients and their families tried to spend time out in the sun as opposed to cooped up indoors.

Vinyl herself had been clamoring to spend more time outdoors ever since she had learned of the garden.  Poultice had kept her indoors longer than most given his concerns over her fragile condition after the surgery.  Octavia had reluctantly supported his position, as miserable as Vinyl was trapped in a small hospital room, at least there she was safer from infection.  After the accident, there wasn’t much of anything Octavia was willing to risk Vinyl for.

Sighting a row of blossoming cherry trees beside a cobblestone path, Octavia turned the wheelchair in that direction and smiled.  Pushing Vinyl in the direction of the trees, she situated the wheelchair under a pair of overlapping branches, just so that if it did begin to rain before they were done with breakfast, they would have at least a little cover.

“How’s this spot work, Vinyl?” Octavia asked, adjusting the wheelchair so Vinyl had a good view of the garden pavillion and locking the brakes.

“It’s okay,” Vinyl said with an indifferent shrug.  “Anythings better than being back in my room, anyway.”

Octavia chuckled softly and brushed her hoof across Vinyl’s cheek.  “Well, I’ll go get us breakfast.  Be a good girl and I’ll get you a milkshake later.”

Vinyl stared in feigned disdain. “You evil temptress...”

Octavia smiled, leaning down to steal a gentle kiss.  “If it gets you to eat a healthy meal, then so be it.  We’ve got to get some meat back on your bones.”

“I thought you wanted me to lose a little weight,” Vinyl challenged with a hint of her old smirk on her lips.

“No, I said you needed to cut back on having chocolate cake for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a midnight snack.”

“Hey, I offered to share!”

“Vinyl, my love, you ate it all before I could get near it.”

Vinyl huffed and folded her forelegs across her chest, her lips pursed together in a silent pout.

“It’s not my fault you were slow,” she grumbled.

A scoff of laughter escaped Octavia, who planted a delicate kiss on Vinyl’s cheek before moving behind the wheelchair.  “Shall we find a spot for lunch?”

“Fine,” Vinyl surrendered, “but no yogurt!”

“Yes, yes, don’t get your mane in a twist, Vinyl.” Octavia teased.  “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

“I’ll be here,” Vinyl promised.

Vinyl watched Octavia trot back into the hospital, she waited until the door clicked closed before she allowed herself a sigh.   Leaning back as best she could, she gazed into the Manehattan skyline.  For a storm day, she was surprised to see a distinct lack of coverage.  Vinyl wondered if storm days were different for cities like Manehattan, or if the Ponyville weather manager was just way better than the Manehattan manager.

Shrugging the thoughts from her mind, Vinyl closed her eyes and sighed.  At least it was a warm morning, even with the minimal sunlight.  For a moment, she felt almost comfortable.  The gentle breeze carried the fragrance of the flowerbeds and blossoming trees around her.  The scents reminded Vinyl of home with Tavi.

She remembered their first summer together in Ponyville, when they had just moved into their home.  They had resolved to plant a flower garden in the backyard, a place they could entertain guests and relax.  The experiment in gardening had somehow ended with them throwing dirtballs at each other for the better part of an hour.

Vinyl smiled more from the memories of the cleanup process.  

A sharp scream startled her back to reality.

She looked up just in time to see a pegasus mare, her coat golden and her mane firey red crash into the ground.  A second mare, a sky-blue pegasus with a familiar rainbow mane tumbled free of her grasp, landing in a heap several feet away.   Vinyl’s mouth dried up and her heart raced.

“Hey, help!  Help!  Somepony, help!” Vinyl shouted, loud as she could.

“Say, I got an idea!  How about I go check out that show stand we passed and see what’s playing tonight, then after we walk around for a while and do some shopping we can catch a show or two and get some drinks to celebrate!”

Vinyl recoiled as though slapped by the vivid flash of memory.

The golden pegasus mare writhed on the ground, her right wing stuck out perpendicular from her body.  Her hooves dug at the grass trying desperately to get herself back to her hooves, but whatever pain that had rooted itself in her wing kept her all but tied to the ground.  The sky-blue mare she had been carrying remained deathly still, her coat charred in places and speckled with blood in places.

She was trotting across the street, the steady pitter-patter of raindrops falling gently over her body.  A gentle shiver ran down her spine, yet in spite of the chill from the wind and rain,  Vinyl smiled.  It was going to be a good—

“Watch out!” a voice shouted.

Vinyl turned in time to see one of the large construction carts race towards her, she froze.

Vinyl flinched hooves fumbled with the break locks on her wheelchair, unable to disengage them in her panic.  The sky-blue mare with the rainbow mane laid motionless beside the golden coated mare, who cried out in agony from a wound Vinyl was unable to see from her position.  Why did they both look so familiar?

She couldn’t move.  Her head burned and her body ached, but she couldn’t move.  Cold rain seeped into her coat, leeching the warmth from her body.

She couldn’t move.

“HELP!  FOR CELESTIA’S SAKE, WE NEED HELP!” she shouted again.

Vinyl abandoned her struggle with the brakes, instead unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning forward until she fell free of the chair.  She grunted as her front hooves to the brunt of the impact, her neck sending a bolt of pain through her body.  She gritted her teeth and ignored it, other ponies needed help more than she did.  

“Come on,” She growled, trying to will her rear legs to work, “come on!”

Dragging herself forward with her front hooves, Vinyl didn’t make it far before her already tired limbs gave out.  Her chin smacked against the grass, the blow causing her glasses to tumble off her snout.  Vinyl gritted her teeth, tears burning at her eyes.

‘T-Tavi!  I c-can’t move!  Oh Celestia, I can’t move!’

Vinyl’s hooves clasped the sides of her head as her eyes squeezed tightly shut.  The flashes of memories struck out from the dark corners of her mind like lightning, and no matter how hard she willed it, they wouldn’t go away.  The golden mare’s screams of pain echoed through her mind.

“Vinyl!” Octavia’s voice called to her.

Octavia’s forelegs wrapped around her, lifting her body from the cold earth.  Vinyl could feel Octavia’s warmth press against her, she could hear the chaotic shouts of ponies around her.  The golden mare’s cries of agony faded as she was taken to the emergency room.

“Tavi, I-I can’t breathe,” Vinyl managed through heavy gasps. “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe!”

“Vinyl?  Vinyl, love, look at me!” Octavia pleaded, her voice trembling as the panic began to eat away at her.  “Come on, Vinyl, please!”

“I don’t wanna die!  I don’t wanna die!” she sobbed.

Vinyl buried her head in her hooves, her eyes squeezed shut and tears spilling down her cheeks.  

“Make it stop!  Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!” Vinyl begged as she shook her head wildly from side to side.

Magic ripped her from Octavia’s grasp.  For an instant she felt nothing but the air on her coat, then finally the firm padding of a gurney under her back.

“Vinyl, we need you to focus on us, just for a few moments!” a stallion said.

Vinyl’s jaw trembled, her body writhing and shaking as she futilely tried to stall the torrent of anguish.  Octavia’s hooves held hers tight, Vinyl felt an oxygen mask slip over her muzzle.

“I can’t do this,” she whimpered, “I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I can’t do it.”

“Yes you can, Vinyl, yes you can!” Octavia said, her own voice trembling.  “I’m right here, everything is going to be alright.  You’re safe, I promise!”

“Vinyl,” the stallion’s voice began, “we’re gonna give you some medicine to help you relax, alright?”

Vinyl felt the pinch of a needle in her foreleg.  She whimpered and held tightly to Octavia, terrified to let go for fear of what might happen.  The all too familiar warmth of the medication filled her foreleg, and as the darkness encroached on her mind she held tight to the only thing she had left.





Octavia had to force herself not to pace the hallway outside of Vinyl’s room.  In the hours after she had woken up, Dr. Poultice had arranged for her to speak with a traumatologist.  Octavia had barely had a chance to speak with the stallion herself, though he had seemed a kindly pegasus.  What did bother her was his insistence that he and Vinyl speak in private.  

After the events in the garden, Octavia probably wouldn’t have left Vinyl alone with her own parents.  Poultice had largely stayed with her the whole time, patiently enduring her outbursts and concerns with quiet compassion.

“I shouldn’t have left her,” Octavia chastised herself, “but I did, and she got hurt.  Why did I leave her?  Why didn’t I get the food first?”

“Octavia,” Poultice began, his tone gentle but firm, “this wasn’t your fault, unless you happen to be a secret employee of the weather factory.  Which, given your distinct lack of wings, I find a bit unlikely.”

“I know, but—”

“But nothing, there was a medical emergency, and Vinyl just happened to be in the wrong spot when the casualties came in.  Though, was it true she tried to drag herself to them to help?” he asked.

Octavia thought for a moment, her memory of the morning’s activity somewhat blurred from hours of worry.  “When... when I got there she had gotten out of her wheelchair and had pulled herself towards them, yes.  It looked like she tried to unlock the brakes, but couldn’t quite get them.”

Poultice chuckled and smiled.  “Your fiance is quite the selfless hero, it seems.”

Octavia let out a tired laugh, her hoof rubbing at her eyes.  “What I’d give for her to be a little more selfish today.”

Poultice hummed softly, his hoof rubbing the back of his neck for a moment.  “Octavia, how are you handling all of this?”

“Hmm?”  Octavia stared at him, surprised by the question.  “Um, fine.  I’m just taking it one day at a time, you know?”

“Mm-hmm,” Poultice nodded, his horn igniting and adjusting his glasses.  “Octavia, I’d like you to consider speaking to a psychologist yourself.”

“What for?” she asked, eyeing the aging stallion warily.

“Vinyl’s my patient, so I’m concerned about her physical and mental well being.  However, part of that means I also need to be concerned with your well being.”

“This has been a... difficult process, I admit, but I assure you I’m quite alright.” she insisted.

“Then please, just speak with a psychologist yourself, for Vinyl’s sake if nothing else.  It won’t do either of you any good if you burn yourself out.”

“I have no intention—”

“I know, I know,” Poultice said, holding up a hoof.  “But this sort of process is long and difficult, exceptionally so in Vinyl’s case.  I can’t imagine what it must be like for you on a day-to-day basis.”

Octavia’s posture sagged somewhat, her lips pulling into a frown.  “Maybe when Vinyl’s back home, I’m not sure we can afford any more right now, and Vinyl’s needs far outweigh mine at the moment.”

“I will pay for it, Octavia,” Poultice insisted, “just please, talk to someone before a problem can develop.”

“W-why?” Octavia asked, stunned by the offer, “not... not that I don’t appreciate the offer!  But, you’ve done so much for Vinyl and I already.”

“Octavia,” Poultice began, lightly resting a hoof on her shoulder, “I’ve rarely seen a pony get hit as hard as you and Vinyl have, and I’ll be damned if I don’t do everything in my power to help.  If that means I can arrange for you to talk with somepony, then I will.  If it means I can get my brother to help you and Vinyl through that media business, I will.  Just, let me help.”

Octatvia smiled, wiping a conspicuous bit of moisture from her eyes.  “You’re a good stallion, Poultice.”

“I try my best,” he answered.

The sound of the door opening interrupted their conversation.  A charcoal colored pegasus, with a greyed mane and hazel eyes stepped out, quietly pulling the door closed behind him.  He smiled and nodded his head politely to Octaiva and Poultice as he noticed them.

“How is she?” Octavia asked, “what happened?”

“She’s resting now, which is the best thing for her, as to what happened, Vinyl is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.”  He paused as he noticed the horrified look on Octavia’s face.  “We’ve caught it early, so I think we’re in a good position to treat it.”

“What do we need to do?” she asked.

“I’m going to start her on an antidepressant, and for the duration of her stay here I’m going to talk with her once a week for at least an hour.  I’d also recommend that she get to a more comfortable living arrangement soon.  Long-term hospitalization is not ideal for mental well being.”

“As soon as her physical therapist clears her, then I can release her to out-patient care,” Poultice added.

“Would we need to stay in the city, or does that mean I can take her back to Ponyville?”

Poultice hummed and rubbed his chin.  “I would prefer she stays in the city, but if she would be more comfortable in Ponyville we can certainly send her file over there.”

“In the meantime,” the traumatologist began, “we need to keep her stimulated, get her something to focus her mind on when she has another bout of flashbacks or nightmares.”

“Like what?” Octavia asked.

“That depends on the pony.  Some of my patients took to knitting, others would garden obsessively, I even had one stallion who turned to bodybuilding.  It’s all dependant on that pony’s interests.”

Octavia felt a light bulb immediately flash in her mind.  “I think I may know just the thing.”

After saying goodbye to both doctors, at least for a while, Octavia quietly slipped into Vinyl’s room.  Her heart sank somewhat at the sight of Vinyl, sadness overwhelming her face even in sleep.  Octavia made her way to her bag and fished out pencil and paper.  Setting herself up at the table, she thought for a moment before she began to write.

‘Dear Lyra and Bon Bon,’

> Quill and Ink
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rag splashed into the sudsy water launching a scattered burst of soapy liquid out of the metal bucket. Bon Bon’s hoof swirled the poor cloth in a tight counter-clockwise circle for several seconds before she pulled it out and tossed it down on the wooden floor. It landed with a wet slop. The confectioner’s hoof let the rag linger there for a moment, as if to give it hope it’s abuse had reached an end, only to come crashing down with renewed vigor.

Bon Bon mentally cursed the stubborn spots that had taken root in the floor. It had been nearly three months to the day that she and Lyra had returned to Ponyville. The decision to leave Vinyl and Octavia had been buoyed by Octavia’s weekly correspondence from the hospital, as well as Bon Bon’s need to return to her shoppe. 

Bon Bon’s eyes drifted to one of the many framed pictures hanging from the beige wall. Vinyl, Octavia, Lyra, and herself were all there wearing broad, happy smiles under the warm, midday sun. Vinyl’s horn radiated magic indicating it was her that had taken the picture. 

As much she considered Vinyl and Octavia like family, Bon Bon still had a business to manage, and businesses seldom ran themselves. Though, in fairness, stranger things had been known to happen in Ponyville.

“Lyra!” she called, taking a break from her work. “Have you found it yet?”

A loud crash followed by a surprised yelp answered Bon Bon’s call. The earth pony sighed, shaking her head and resuming her scrubbing. At least it didn’t sound like anything fragile had broken.

“Ouch, dammit! Workin’ on it, Bonnie!” Lyra shouted from the attic.

“Are you sure she even kept them?” Bon Bon shouted again, dropping the rag into the bucket before she moved closer to the attic entrance.

Lyra carefully made her way down the steep staircase, a large, cardboard, file box held in her magic. She smiled at Bon Bon, her eyes looking from the confectioner to the box. “Babe, as long as I’ve known her, Vinyl hasn’t thrown any music away.”

“Really?” Bon Bon cast an incredulous look at the unicorn.

Lyra nodded, setting the box on the floor and prying the lid off with her front hooves. “I once saw her dig out some thing she wrote when she was twelve because she thought it would make a good club beat.”

“Did it?”

“Hay if I know, that was the night we spent at your parent’s place when they were out of town.” Lyra paused for a moment, turning to bon bon. “You did throw away that zucchini, right?”

Bon Bon’s cheeks burned. “Of course I did!”

Lyra snickered, her magic sifting through seemingly organized stacks of paper. She hummed softly as she skimmed through them, setting every stack aside as she finished. Towards the bottom of the box she found a manilla folder stuffed with tablature. 

She flipped through the pages, her eyes scanning through each line. Bon Bon studied Lyra’s expression; the rapt attention she paid to each note, the subtle twitch of her ears as she heard the music in her mind. She loved seeing Lyra in those moments.

“So,” Bon Bon began, sad to interrupt Lyra, but also curious. “Is that what we’re looking for?”

Lyra didn’t answer, her attention fixated on the music before her. Every page had been written for a specific instrument, often with subtle differences seeded through each section. The resulting composition was nothing short of sublime in Lyra’s eyes. 

“Lyra?”

“Hm?” Lyra gave a quick shake of her head, strands of mane tickling Bon Bon’s nose. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Is that what we’re looking for?”

“I think so, Bon.”

“What does the title mean?” the confectioner asked, her hoof reaching over Lyra’s shoulder and pointing to the cryptic scrawl. “VS.C.149-Tr?”

Lyra scoffed, an amused smirk pulling up the corners of her mouth. “Vinyl Scratch Composition one-hundred forty-nine, the “dash Tr.” stands for Trumpet. It’s how vinyl marks her stuff when she’s writing.” Lyra squinted, taking a closer look at the manuscript. “Or it could be trombone, come to think of it.”

With a concerned frown and a raised eyebrow, Bon Bon shook her head. “That seems a tad...complex, doesn’t it?”

The unicorn simply shrugged as she tucked the music safely back into it’s folder. “It worked for Vinyl.”

“Do you think Octavia’s plan will work?”

Lyra thought for a moment, pursing her lips and absently drifting her gaze to the ceiling. “One way to find out.”





Staring at the cup of tea clutched daintily in her forelegs, Octavia felt a most peculiar sense of horror at the pool of brown liquid.  Tendrils of steam twisted and danced from the liquid carrying with them the bland stink of old tea.  There wasn’t anything wrong with the cup, unless one were to count the fact that Octavia was a self-admitted tea snob.  There were no bugs in the tea, nor the casually shed hairs of a random pony.  No, the horror was from a simple realization.  After months of constant exposure, Octavia was getting to like the cheap swill.

Her ancestors had to be spinning in their graves.

Vinyl was in the bed beside her, snoring lightly after her latest round of therapy.  Five weeks of bitter work had seen drastic improvements in both Vinyl’s mobility and her state of mind.  Soma’s efforts had restored all they could for Vinyl’s body, whereas a traumatologist, a kind, older mare named Esprit, had worked with Vinyl daily to begin the slow process of healing her mind.

Octavia had noticed the changes herself after Vinyl had convinced Poultice to get Octavia out of the hospital for a few days.  The cellist had been less than thrilled by that particular course of action, regardless of how emotionally refreshing it had been.  She had nearly forgotten what it was like to be a normal mare out for a stroll, though it would never be right without Vinyl at her side.

Vinyl had seemed less sullen when she had returned, at least superficially speaking.  Octavia maintained her doubts to Vinyl’s emotional state, despite the unicorn’s protestations that she was, indeed, fine.  Still, Octavia had a plan well in motion that she very strongly believed would help. 

Two quick knocks at the door snapped her from her thoughts.  She turned in time to see Dr. Poultice enter the room, a pleasant smile on his lips.  Vinyl’s eyes fluttered open as well, a soft yawn alerting Octavia she was waking up.

The cellist smiled to Poultice.  “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Likewise.” He chuckled, moving to the foot of Vinyl’s bed and taking her chart in his magic.  “How’s my favorite patient?”

“I bet you say that to all the mares,” she mumbled, a hoof wiping the sleep from her eyes. 

The innocuous action nearly made Octavia squeal in joy.  It hadn’t been that long ago when Vinyl had barely been able to lift her forelegs, to see her moving them normally again, it was more gratifying that anything.  She managed to contain the squeals, though she couldn’t prevent the smile.

“And most of the stallions too,” Poultice answered with a playful wink.

“Oh my, doctor, aren’t you the romantic,” Vinyl answered with a chuckle. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Pretty good I guess.  Neck itches though.”

“I’ll bet, all these months in that hard collar, but fear not, fair maiden,” the doctor placed a hoof over his chest and puffed his chest out heroically. “For I come bearing a gift.”

“A new spine?” Vinyl asked.

“If only it were that easy,” Octavia muttered.

Poultice smirked from Octavia’s comment.  His horn flickered to life, holding up a cream colored soft-collar.  “We’re ready to get you into something more comfortable.”

“Yipee,” Vinyl cheered in a manner about as excited as though Poultice had just told her she won a math textbook.

“Look at it this way,” Poultice continued, setting the soft collar on the bed and using his magic to delicately remove Vinyl’s old collar. “The soft one’s don’t itch as much, and it rehabilitates your neck muscles.”

Vinyl bit her lip; a shiver running through her as the old collar left her neck. The only time she felt the chill of air over her neck anymore was when the nurses bathed her, and that only happened once a week at most. The feeling was quickly replaced by something new; a soft foam collar that hugged her neck like a firm pillow.

“Whoa,” Vinyl mused with a grin, “that’s such a funky feeling.”

“So I hear, but it get’s better!” Poultice continued, talking like a radio salespony, “it comes with a one-time, limited offer, no contract, get-out-of-hospital-free card!”

“That’s…” Vinyl stalled for a moment, her mind processing exactly what Poultice had just said.  “Wait… you mean…”

He smiled and nodded once.  “All our tests show your neck is healing well, Soma’s report for your rehab therapy was excellent, and Dr. Esprit also recommends you go.  So we’re sending you home, Vinyl.  Congratulations.”

Vinyl let out a breathy laugh; almost unable to accept that what she had heard was true.

Octavia cleared her throat, though she could hardly contain the smile that blossomed over her lips. “Is, um, is there anything we should know? I mean, for restrictions or home care? I just don’t want to risk doing something to aggravate her injury.”

“So, as long as Vinyl avoids anything that might impact her neck for the next three months, I feel confident that we can release her from our care.”

“What sorts of activities are precluded?” Octavia asked, readying her notepad and a pencil.

Poultice leaned back, his front hooves pressing together casually.  “It’s fairly simple: no running, physical lifting, swimming, climbing, we recommend abstaining from sex while the brace is on.”

Octavia stopped writing, her eyes drifting up to Poultice.  His face was a mask of professionalism, serious and clinical.  She heard Vinyl giggling behind her, though it seemed muted by the blood rushing to her ears.

With a quick shake of her head, Octavia did her best to carry on.  “A-anything else?”

“Nothing major, really,” he answered with a shrug. “The discharge nurse will be by with some instructions and an extra brace, just in case. Keep in touch with us if anything changes.  Soma will work out a schedule for physical therapy at your home.”

Vinyl swallowed hard, her eyes misting from long unshed tears of joy. “T-thanks, Poultice. For everything. Y-you’ve saved my life.”

Poulice smiled and slipped closer to the bed. Standing up on his hind legs he carefully pulled Vinyl into a gentle hug. “You’ve been a joy to know, Mrs. Scratch. It’s been my distinct pleasure to help you all these months.”

A choked laugh escaped vinyl as the tears slipped down her face. “If...if there’s ever any way I can repay you—”

“Tell you what,” Poultice cut her off, pulling away from her and dropping back to all four hooves. “Next time you do a show, send me a couple tickets. My daughter would love it.”

Vinyl laughed. “For you, Doc, it’s backstage passes and an invitation for dinner!”

“Sweet Celestia Vinyl, don’t force anypony though your cooking,” Octavia pleaded with a quiet groan.

Poultice chuckled and moved towards the door. “I’ll get everything cleared up with the discharge ponies. We can get you home as early as tonight.” He gave the mares one last, polite nod before disappearing into the hall.

“Anxious, Vinyl?” Octavia asked, a knowing smile on her lips.

“No,” the unicorn answered quickly.

Octavia sighed, her eyes drifting to Vinyl’s right front hoof which tapped a staccato rhythm against her thigh.  Vinyl leveled a confused stare at her fiancée for several moments before her eyes followed Octavia’s gaze down.  A faint blush crept through her cheeks, with a small amount of effort she stopped her tapping.

“Okay, maybe a little,” she admitted.

“I promise I won’t tell anypony.”

“Better not,” Vinyl grumbled, “then I’d have to beat you up.”

Octavia let out a thoughtful hum, her lips pursed as she pretended to consider Vinyl’s fake threat.  “You could do that, but then I’d have to feed you nothing but creamed spinach for the rest of time.”

Vinyl’s lips pulled into a long line and she warily narrowed her eyes as she studied the cellist’s resolve. She didn’t think Octavia was capable of such cruelties, nor did she think tha  “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Would I not?”

Vinyl stared at her fiancée for a long while, her eyes scanning the cellists face for the slightest indication of mendacity.  Octavia didn’t flinch, her face a demure smile that beguiled a ruthlessly cunning mare.  Sweat beaded on Vinyl’s brow and she gulped uncomfortably.

“But...But...”

Octavia maintained her cold smile.

“Be nice, I’m a cripple!” the DJ pleaded.

“Be good and I’ll be nice.”

Chuckling Vinyl leaned over to nuzzle Octavia. “Hey, um...not to bring the mood down or anything, but have we heard from Dawn about my gear?”

Octavia’s smile dimmed and she shook her head slowly. “I’m afraid not, Vinyl. Would you like me to pop by her office again?”

“No, no…” Vinyl’s ears sagged a little and she let out a weary sigh. “I’ll have to go myself. At least I can look her in the eye when she tells me my career is dead.”

Octavia’s forelegs slipped around Vinyl’s midrifff and held her like a safe, warm blanket. “Maybe you just need a break from the club scene for a while.”

“Club scene’s what made the money, Tavi.” Vinyl said, offering her finacee a sad smile. “No offense.”

“You could compose again.”

“Tavi, I don’t write classical anymore.” Vinyl stuck her tongue out as though she’d swallowed a bug. “It’s so stuffy and restrictive.”

Octavia smiled, her lips pressing against Vinyl’s cheek. “So make it better.”

“Tavi?” Vinyl’s eyebrows scrunched together.

Taking a step away, Octavia poked Vinyl’s chest with her hoof. “I’ve seen your old writing, Vinyl. It was wonderful.”

“I can’t write like that anymore, Tavi.”

Two gray hooves gently cupped Vinyl’s cheeks. “You can, and I’m going to make sure you play to a sold out audience.”