Unicorn magic makes the medicine go down
"I'm very proud of you, Darling," Rarity said as the Uber pulled up outside of Children's Hospital.
Sweetie nodded nervously and fidgeted with her Firefly lunchbox.
The driver put the Prius into park. "So we're dropping her off and I'm taking you back to where I picked you up? Right?"
"Yes, but don't be in such a rush." Rarity wrapped her forelegs around Sweetie and gave her a tight hug. "Behave. Follow instructions. You appreciate that this is different from your time candy striping at Ponyville Hospital?"
"I will, Rarity. And I understand." She hugged Rarity in return, popped the door open, and hopped out onto the sidewalk and pranced toward the volunteer entrance, waving over her shoulder at Rarity.
"I shall see you at four o'clock promptly," Rarity called before closing the door. The Prius whirred away.
As Sweetie walked toward the entrance, she saw an old woman in an electric scooter, walking a golden retriever. The dog wore a royal blue smock labeled Service Animal in white letters.
Off the path were some benches and picnic tables under a few shade trees, all marked as a smoking area. Several parents smoked there, one father smoking next to his bald, emaciated child in a wheelchair.
Sweetie walked face-first into the glass doors, banging her horn painfully. She plopped down to her butt and rubbed her horn. "Ow!"
The elderly woman—wearing a royal-blue Volunteer vest that matched her dog's vest—buzzed up in her scooter. "Sorry, hun, the sensors aren't calibrated to service animals."
"I'm a volunteer, not a service animal!"
"Bradley here is bigger than you."
The golden retriever grinned and wagged his tail. He licked Sweetie's cheek.
Sweetie reached up and scratched his ear with a hoof. "I like him."
"I'm Margret, hun." The old woman pointed at a panel to the left with a large stainless-steel button. "There's an override."
The button was well above Sweetie's or Bradley's reach. She pushed it with her magic and the door swished open. Margaret buzzed inside on her scooter, Bradley trotting next to her, and Sweetie walked up to a collapsable table that had a sign marked Volunteer check-in.
"Hi, I'm Sweetie Belle!" she squeaked, hopping up to her rear hooves and stretching to get her forehooves on the edge of the table. She craned her neck to see over its edge.
"So you are!" said the woman. "I'm Brenda, the volunteer coordinator."
Brenda gave Sweetie a royal blue vest of her own. Although sized for a service animal, it read Volunteer. "We had it custom made for you," Brenda said.
Sweetie slipped it on and turned in a circle, looking at herself, admiring it. "Thanks!"
"How about," Brenda said, running a finger down a ledger, "you go to the second floor west TV lounge?"
"What's there? A TV?" Sweetie asked.
Brenda blinked, then forced a smile. "Indeed. Some of the children will be in there, instead of their rooms, to get a little socialization. Why don't you just head up there and see if any of the children might need some cheering up? Perhaps they would want to play a board game."
Sweetie gave a little salute. "Can do!"
Sweetie exited the elevator and pranced down the corridor, head high and smiling, her volunteer vest flapping in time with her steps. She reached a nurses' station and jumped, trying to see over the countertop. Hop. "Hey!" Hop. "Hey!"
A nurse stood and looked over the edge of the counter. "Can I help you?"
"I'm supposed to find the west TV lounge."
The nurse smiled. "You must be Bellie Sweets."
"Sweetie Belle."
"Several of the kids are looking forward to meeting you." The nurse pointed. "End of that corridor, hang a left."
"Thanks!"
Sweetie trotted towards the TV lounge, keeping her head high and step bouncy, but her ears developed a tremble and her tail drooped. She'd spent a lot of time volunteering at Ponyville Hospital, and had seen quite a few ill or injured foals over the years, but she also knew that this would be worse, in many ways, since human medicine wasn't as effective as pony magic, and some of these kids might be sick.
Well, that was why she was here, right? To help them feel better? Laughter was the best medicine, after all.
After hanging the left, she pranced into the TV lounge. One of the loud, irritating kids' shows blared on the TV in the corner, several children staring at it with blank expressions. A few others played Pokemon cards on a table, one of them wearing a kid-sized KN95 mask, a pair of safety goggles, and a knitted toboggan cap. She looked pale and wan.
The kids playing cards looked at her, the ones watching TV continued staring at the screen.
"Who're you?" asked a boy at the card table.
"Sweetie Belle. They sent me up here to see if anyone wanted to play a board game. Or something."
"I'm Juan." He pointed at the mask-wearing girl. "She's Marie."
Marie nodded.
A woman sitting in the corner and knitting another toboggan cap looked at Sweetie Belle. "Honey, I don't want to be rude, but Marie is allergic to animal dander."
Sweetie twirled in a circle, her volunteer vest flapping. "Don't worry! Unlike pegasi, unicorns are hypoallergenic, and I took a shower with unscented shampoo this morning."
Marie's mom frowned at Sweetie, trying to find a polite way to tell Sweetie to get lost.
One of the TV kids broke eye contact with the show and looked at Sweetie. "Do you know how to play checkers?"
Marie's mom rolled her eyes, realizing she'd missed the window to eject Sweetie easily. She knitted angrily.
"Sure, Spike and I play checkers all the time."
"I'm Tommy," he said, moving to an empty card table. "Checkers set is there."
Sweetie Belle hopped up onto a chair—she had to stand on it, to see the top of the table, even small humans were bigger than her—before she levitated the checkers game over and set up the board with her magic.
"Hey, that was cool!" Tommy said. "What else can you levitate?"
Sweetie frowned. "The heaviest thing I've ever picked up is Scootaloo, which wasn't easy, but that was an emergency. I guess thirty-two checkers at once is a personal record for number of items, huh?"
"Twenty-four," Tommy said.
"No, I'm twelve." Sweetie had red and therefore moved first, using a hoof instead of magic to avoid making him jealous.
"Me too," Tommy said, moving his first piece. "I have cancer."
"I... uh..." Sweetie said, looking at him, then moving another piece. She forgot to use her hoof and instead moved that one with her magic.
"They keep giving me radiation, but no superpowers yet. Maybe I'll learn to levitate?" He started at the board, face scrunching up for a minute. "Dang." He moved a piece by hand.
Marie leaned over from the next table. "You aren't setting off any of my allergies! Can I scratch your ears?"
Marie's mom frowned, but didn't say anything.
Sweetie moved her next checker, setting up a jump for Tommy, because she'd decided to let him win. "Sure, but please don't touch my horn. I banged it on the glass door and it's sore."
"Mmmmmm," Marie said, scratching Sweetie's ears. It felt good and Sweetie closed her eyes.
A slam and a clatter startled Sweetie and her eyes popped open. A janitor was pushing her cleaning cart through the doors into the lounge. She sprayed a paper towel with disinfectant and began wiping down countertops and game tables.
"Your turn," Tommy said.
Sweetie looked down, seeing he'd missed the jump she set up for him. She always played by the 'you have to take a jump if you have one' rule and prepared to capture one of his pieces.
She scrunched her nose, a sudden itch hitting just inside her snout. Her sinuses hurt and her eyes watered.
The janitor, standing just behind Sweetie, sprayed the pine-scented Lysol on another paper towel and wiped down the table just around the perimeter of the checkerboard.
Sweetie's nose seemed on fire. "Ahhh... ahhh..."
"I'm really sorry!" Sweetie squeaked to Brenda, the volunteer coordinator. "I didn't know I would be allergic to Lysol. We don't use Lysol at home, we use magic."
Brenda rubbed her temples. "Accidents happen, and that TV was old and electricity-inefficient, anyway. We were planning to replace it in the next budget quarter."
"Did they get the checker out of Tommy's ear canal?"
"Not yet."
"Has the hazmat team cleaned up all the mercury from the fluorescent tubes yet?"
"They're working on it."
"I'm really sorry." Sweetie rubbed her chin. "At least it wasn't Marie's allergies, huh?"
"At least, yeah." Brenda rubbed her temples some more. "Try the main lobby. Some of the siblings are hanging out there."
"Siblings?" Sweetie asked.
"Brothers and sisters of the kids here in the hospital. They tend to hang out in the central lobby while their parents are dealing with the sick children. They also tend to get bored. See if any of them are close to your age and want to..." Brenda's hands flapped "...whatever."
Sweetie saluted. She started to ask, where's the lobby? but then saw a sign with an arrow. She took off at a prance.
Sweetie walked around the corner into a four-story atrium. A marble fountain babbled, and a large tree grew in the middle of the atrium, surrounded by benches.
Indeed, several unaccompanied minors were sitting on the benches, chatting idly.
She bought herself a Coca-Cola from the snack bar slash gift shop—Rarity had given her money—and then hopped up to one of the benches next to the two youngest-looking unaccompanied kids. She wasn't great at estimating human ages, but she figured they were close to her own age.
"Who're you?" asked the boy.
"Sweetie Belle."
He glared at her volunteer vest. "Are you here to cheer us up?"
"Yeah, basically," Sweetie Belle said, sipping at the straw of her drink. The carbonation went up her nose, still raw from the magical allergy attack, and she scrunched her eyes shut. She rubbed her cheeks with her forehooves. "Oof!"
"You okay?" asked the girl, dressed all in black with black makeup and black-dyed hair showing blond roots.
"Allergies." Sweetie looked at her. "What're your names?"
"I am Golgotha Darkness," said the girl.
"Call me Derek's Brother, who isn't sick and therefore isn't important enough to rate his own name," said the boy.
"Can I just call you DB?" Sweetie asked. "Oh! How about Database? You're Database."
He looked at her, then cracked a smile. "Sure."
"I'm sorry your brother is sick," Sweetie said.
Database looked at her. "Thanks. They say he's getting better, but it'll be a long slog."
Darkness nodded. "My half-sister is full-sick."
"My parents forgot to give me money..." Database said, looking at Sweetie's soda. "Could you spot me enough for a Hot Pocket and an orange juice? I'll pay you back when my parents are done consulting with the whateveratologist."
"Sure!" Sweetie slid backwards, off the bench, and pranced back towards the shop, sipping her drink as she went. Darkness and Database followed.
In the gift shop, Database grabbed a pepperoni Hot Pocket from the freezer and an orange juice from the cooler. Sweetie paid and Database pocketed the receipt. "To show my parents," he explained, "to pay you back."
Sweetie grinned. "It's my sister's money, and she's pretty generous, so don't worry too much."
The sales clerk pointed them to the tiny kitchenette in the corner. Database removed the Hot Pocket's packaging, wrapped it in a paper towel, and put it on a paper plate.
The two children and Sweetie Belle looked up, at the microwave high above their reach. Darkness glanced at the clerk, who was now helping an elderly man pick out some flowers.
"Sweetie, you're a unicorn," Database said.
"Oh, uh, me and cooking..."
"Just levitate it in and push 'add thirty seconds' three times," Database said, opening his orange juice and taking a sip. "Easy."
Sweetie looked at the microwave, her tail thrashing. "Microwaves and I don't get along."
Database's stomach growled.
"Fiiiiiiiine..." Sweetie said.
Brenda the volunteer coordinator rubbed her temples as the janitor vacuumed fire extinguisher powder from Sweetie's fur and vest.
"I'm sorry!" Sweetie said. "I tried to- I told them- but they couldn't reach-"
"It's fine," Brenda grated, forcing a smile onto her face. "You were just being friendly to the siblings, like I asked."
"I really want to be helpful through!" Sweetie squeaked.
The janitor finished with Sweetie's vest and body, then started vacuuming her head. After getting the dry chemical powder off of her ears, the janitor vacuumed her horn and the hose attachment sucked down onto the top of Sweetie's skull, enveloping her horn.
"Ow! My brain!"
The janitor shut off the vacuum and pulled the attachment free of her skull. "Sorry."
Sweetie plopped down to her butt and rubbed her horn. "That felt funny."
Brenda handed Sweetie a Nintendo Switch. "Go take a little break and let me figure out how to... make best use of your talents."
Sweetie's face fell. She knew when she was being shuffled out of sight and out of mind. She levitated up the Switch and wandered away.
Sweetie found an empty lounge, curled up into a ball on a couch, and fired up the Switch. The battery was full and it had several games loaded. Hmmm... No, Diablo III didn't seem her style at all, she would get nightmares... Mario Party Superstars was fun, but required a crowd to play... Minecraft? Hard no. Her buildings always caught on fire, even if she used obsidian. ...ah! Mario Kart!
"Mario a-Kart... EIGHT!" Mario cried as the game booted.
There is a game on your local network. Join (yes/no)? the Switch asked Sweetie.
She frowned. Sweetie had never seen that message before. It showed one user playing. Username: Room 143.
Wait, this lounge was room 142. She hopped off the couch and trotted across the hall and poked her snout through the half-open door.
A boy was sitting up on his hospital bed, holding a Switch and twisting it clockwise and counter as he drove his kart.
"Hey?" Sweetie called.
He glanced at her, then back to the game. "What?"
"Can I join the game? I love Mario Kart."
"I'm playing one hundred fifty CC difficulty. Can you keep up?"
Sweetie pranced in and grinned. "I can drop down to that level for one day." She routinely beat Scootaloo and Spike while playing the two hundred CC level. (Apple Bloom, however, was on another planet and had once left Button Mash blubbering in frustration and anger after AB did a flawless Rainbow Road race with all assists turned off.)
"I'm not supposed to be around people," he said. "I'll get an infection."
Sweetie paused just inside the threshold. "Ponies and humans can't make each other sick. Something about DNA, I don't understand it."
"Oh!" he said with a grin. "I'm Robbie. Hop on up."
"Sweetie Belle." She hopped onto the bed and curled up near his feet.
"I'll start a new game."
She joined the game and they picked the Flower Cup quartet of races, starting with the Mario Circuit. Sweetie picked Dry Bones as a character and a standard bike; Robbie picked Wario and the Sneeker kart.
He was good, Sweetie admitted to herself, but not as good as her. She beat him by two seconds on the first track and he growled in frustration. On the second track, Toad Harbor, she deliberately avoided a shortcut she knew and tossed a red shell behind her, rather than at Robbie, letting him come in second to Baby Peach with Sweetie finishing third.
They didn't talk much, but they played the game for over two hours, laughing often, until Robbie's mother arrived with an orderly, both wearing N95 masks.
"Who's your friend?" asked his mom with a wary voice.
"She's Sweetie Belle. She's really good at karting. She's letting me win."
"No I'm—didn't!"
Robbie laughed and turned off his Switch, killing the game connection. "This was fun, Sweetie. Thanks. MRI scan?"
The orderly nodded. "MRI scan."
Robbie put his Switch on his bedside stand and pulled on a kid-sized KN95 mask. Sweetie hopped off the bed and stood aside, turning off her own Switch.
The orderly unlocked the wheels on Robbie's bed and wheeled him out. His mom started to follow, then paused and looked at Sweetie Belle.
"Thank you. He was... smiling. I haven't seen him smile in weeks."
"You're welcome!" Sweetie squeaked. "I'll be back next Saturday. And I'll have to get his email address. We can play more Mario Kart after he's better and goes home."
"Sweetie Belle?" Rarity said. "You've been brooding and poking your dinner with a fork for fifteen minutes. Would it help to talk about it?"
Sweetie looked up at Rarity. "Yeah..."
Rarity folded her forelegs and waited. She knew her sister would talk when she was ready.
"I pulled two sweetie belles. Fluorescent tubes and a microwave oven."
"Ah."
"But no harm done. Then I made up for it. I did good! I played Mario Kart with a sick boy. He... he had a good time. His mom said she hadn't seen him smile for weeks, but he was smiling when we finished the game."
"That's wonderful, Darling."
"Then I asked his mom if we could be internet friends after he got better and went... went... went home..."
Sweetie dissolved into tears, sobbing and shaking. Rarity walked around the table and gave her a hug, squeezing and rocking her as the paroxysms of grief shook Sweetie.
It took several minutes before Sweetie could speak again, and Rarity's chest was soaked with tears and snot.
"He- he- he- his mom said he won't go home."
"Sweetie, I... I don't know what to say. Do you want to quit with the volunteering? Perhaps some music lessons on Saturdays?"
"Oh, oh goodness no... I want to keep volunteering more than ever, now, but... but it hurts, too."
Rarity nodded.
"I made Robbie happy, you know? If that makes me sad, then it's a good trade."
Rarity hugged Sweetie tight again, and they shared a good cry together, then a quart of ice cream.