No Heroes: Life of Pie

by PaulAsaran

Rating: teen
Tags: Maud Pie, Pinkie Pie, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Pie Sisters, Romance, Original Character
Length: 122262

Pinkie Pie and Fine Crime, hoping to grow closer, decide to travel to the old rock farm so he can learn about her past. But Pinkie might not be ready to face her demons...

Pinkie and Fine Crime have no idea what they are to each other. Friends? A couple? Strangers united by tragic pasts? Pinkie knows all about Fine's brutal, bloody history, but has yet to reveal her own.

Pinkie wants them to be closer, but that can't happen if they aren't on even terms with one another. So together they will visit the old abandoned Rock Farm. For the first time in over a decade, Pinkie comes home to face her demons. Is she ready to forgive herself for the deeds of long ago? Fine can only hope he has the ability to help her through it.

But the farm might not be entirely abandoned...

As is traditional of my No Heroes stories, this will be updated as I complete chapters. Updates will likely be sporadic for a while, at least until my overall writing load shrinks from finishing other stories.

Rating tag may change depending on how far I choose to take things.

Cover art belongs to saturnspace.
Pre-read by Grand_Moff_Pony.

The No Heroes Series
Chronological from Top to Bottom:
Shadow Pony
Reddux the Tyrant
No Heroes Part I - The Roster
No Heroes Part II - The Journey Home
Lightning's Bolt
No Heroes Part III - For Dreams
No Heroes Part IV - The Crystal Empress
No Heroes: Beyond the Everfree
No Heroes: Life of Pie
No Heroes: Hot Chocolate at the Isekai
To My Uncle

Published 2017-02-23 03:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2019-05-02 20:47:35 UTC

Day 1

If this ‘vacation’ really was about Pinkie and Fine getting to know one another better, then Fine thought it was off to a bad start. The train ride took the entire day away, leading them further and further southeast, and the two of them barely said two words to one another. Pinkie had become like stone, barely moving beyond the rocking of the car and staring at nothing. Every now and then she’d move her lips, but whatever she was mumbling didn’t reach his ears. He’d wanted to talk, had tried to start a conversation several times, but he could never get the words out.

Fine could freely admit that he was afraid. What he didn’t understand was exactly what he was afraid of. It eluded his thoughts, a nebulous foe with greater hiding skill than even him. Failure? Impossible. He wasn’t trying to defeat a foe or win a competition, he just wanted to understand Pinkie more. Perhaps it was this ongoing quiet between them that was at the core of it. Wasn’t now the time to talk about things? But he didn’t want to press her, that might push her away.

He wished he’d told Octavia about this journey, or Nye, or Applejack. Even Twilight would have been better than keeping it to himself. He’d never been so desperate for a little advice. Pinkie meant something to him, though he wasn’t sure what, and if he didn’t do this right he’d never know. He needed to know. He’d hurt her so much. Making up for it demanded that he know.

“You’re looking at the scars, aren’t you?”

His ears perked as he focused on her face, but she wasn’t looking at him. She had definitely spoken. At last! Despite the temptation to note that he couldn’t see the scars, he stopped himself. It was true he hadn’t realized what he was looking at, but his intimate knowledge of those scars meant knew what to look for. And now that he paid attention… yes, he had been looking right at them.

“Sorry.”

She shook her head, her face obscured behind her long, straight mane. If she was smiling, he couldn’t tell. “Don’t be. They’re yours.”

He barely kept from grimacing. Did she have any idea how much that fact made his insides coil? The desire to apologize came again. He resisted that, too. Not knowing what to say next, he glanced out the window. Dense coniferous forest passed by his window atop shallow, rolling hills. A gentle rain pattered against the glass, barely audible over the clacking tracks. He thought about how long they’d been riding and the scenery before him. “We should be almost there.”

“We are.” She shivered, though it wasn’t cold. “I can tell.”

Not two seconds later, Fine felt the momentum of the train shift, rocking him forward. The speakers over their heads gave a slight chime before an announcer declared that they’d be stopping at Rockstead within the next five minutes. Fine smiled at Pinkie. “Not bad.”

To this, she said nothing. She wouldn’t look at him or the window. “I haven’t been here in a very long time.” She raised her head, a touch of her usual cheer coming back. Just a touch. “I wonder if anypony will remember me.”

“I’m sure they will,” Fine said as he stood up and stretched in the space between the benches. “You’re a memorable pony.”

She let out a little hum before getting up to put her luggage saddle back on. “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”

“We’ll assume it’s good,” he said, trying to be encouraging. Visiting hometowns should be a nostalgic thing. He’d always felt that way when visiting Las Pegasus. Not that he did that much nowadays. There wasn’t much of a Las Pegasus left. The thought brought a fresh pain to his chest, and Fine thought of his father. He’d not done that in a while, either.

Blue eyes examined him above a concerned frown. Pinkie held her mane back with a hoof and asked, “You okay?”

Wasn’t he supposed to be asking her that? “I’m fine. Just thinking about my father.”

There was the slightest shift in her eyes, a grain of fear that he didn’t understand. It was gone as quick as it came, though, and he elected to not ask about it. It didn’t seem like the appropriate time.

The train came to a stop, and Fine looked out the window. They were at a station made half of dark grey stones and half of wood lacquered a golden brown. “Looks like this is our stop. Are you ready?”

“Nope.” She sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled. By the time all the air had left her lungs she’d regained her poofy mane and tail and was grinning. “I’ll meet you outside, lickety-split!” A blink later and she was gone, the door sliding closed in her wake. Fine stared at the exit, a feeling of frustration coming over him. More than anything, he wanted to understand that mask of hers.

There was no sense lingering. He put on his own saddle and ignited his horn in the familiar spell, which soon saw him teleported to an open spot he’d witnessed between the station and the forest. He could have simply appeared on the platform, but that would have caused too much of a stir. Besides, he’d never purchased a ticket, and getting accosted by an Equestrian Rail Authority agent would have been more trouble than it was worth.

He stepped around the corner and onto the platform. By the time he reached the open hall leading out of the station he’d already examined each of the locals’ faces, picked out the potential threats, identified the best exits for a non-magical escape, and even made a mental note to inform Fleur that a certain pony of Archon interest had been spotted at the Rockstead Station.

He then slapped himself on the cheek. Not hard, but enough to jar him out of his traditional senses. He was here for Pinkie. He had no need to over-analyze everything he saw while in Rockstead.

Speaking of Pinkie, she came bounding up, hopping along and smiling as if she were having the greatest day ever. “Hey, Fine! Welcome to Rockstead, my oldest and firstest home. Wanna go on a tour before we check into the hotel?”

A glance over the trees to the west revealed that they still had another hour or two before sunset. Well, he had come here to learn more about Pinkie, had he not? “Sure, I’d love to.”

“Okie dokie lokie! Right this way.” She walked slightly ahead of him, moving at an easy pace that puzzled him. Was she eager to be here, or not? He knew Pinkie was skilled at maintaining her cheerful mask, but he’d have thought that there’d be some reveal already. Then again, they’d not even been here for two minutes. Maybe his thinking was too fast.

The train station took up the entirety of a small valley between two tall, forested hills. This meant it prevented any view of the town from the tracks. As such, Fine was treated to a pleasant surprise when they walked out of the station’s entrance and he found himself on the main road through town. The path was made of the same dark grey stone as was used in the construction of the station. It wasn’t just limited to that, though; many of the nearby buildings were at least partially built with the material.

Noticing where he was looking, Pinkie spoke up. “It’s basalt! Rockstead mines a lot of it. It’s their biggest export.”

Ah, that explained its commonality. He took a closer look at the surrounding buildings, mostly consisting of special services like smithing, furniture building, farriers, and so on. He guessed the train was located in Rockstead’s industrial district. A place as small as this would likely have just one station, so the mines probably weren’t far from here, either.

“This is kinda-sorta Rockstead’s busy pony zone. You know, industrial district.” Pinkie’s head whipped round, sending her mane slapping against her cheeks as she took in every inch of the sights. “Wow, it’s a lot busier than I remember.” An accurate statement, as the street was fairly crowded with ponies going about their business as patrons of the local businesses. There were enough present that Fine and Pinkie had to sidestep around a number of ponies.

And not just ponies. Diamond Dogs made up a good portion of the population, at least a quarter. Though he already knew the answer, he felt a need to keep Pinkie talking. He… wasn’t sure why. “Do the dogs work in the mines?”

“Yepperooni.” Pinkie nodded frantically. “They can dig better than any pony or machine, and they get paid in gems, which are themselves bought from the rock farms. Everypony and everypup wins.”

He hummed, casting a curious look her way. “You were born on a rock farm, weren’t you?”

Her legs seemed to seize, and Pinkie stumbled. She managed to catch herself before she could fall on her face, though, and then it was as if the stumble had never occurred. She nodded excitedly and grinned, but didn’t look his way. “Yeah. We’ll visit the farm tomorrow, you’ll see!” It was like she was trying to distract him with false promises. But no, Pinkie wouldn’t do that.

Would she?

They followed the main road, soon entering the commercial sector of Rockstead. Pinkie pointed out an establishment or two, including a sculptor’s shop and a café, but her attempts at giving Fine a guided tour of town kept getting hindered by pauses, mumbles, and stutters. After nearly ten minutes of this, Pinkie came to a pause. Stopping beside her, Fine waited patiently to see what she was thinking… only to realize that she was staring down the road with a look of loss.

Bending down a little so he could get a better view of her face, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Rockstead is,” she muttered, tears welling in her eyes. “All the places I know are gone. Well, not all of them, but most of them. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. Part of me doesn’t like it at all.”

He glanced around, wondering just how much of the town had changed in her absence. He wasn’t clear on the details, but he knew it’d been more than a decade since she’d last set hoof in Rockstead. Of course things would have changed, but surely not that much?

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, kicking at the ground. “I won’t be much of a tour guide after all.”

Even Fine knew what needed to be done in a situation like this. He reached a hoof over her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. “How about we go to the inn for now? You can show me around tomorrow.”

Pinkie hesitated, her eyes shifting slowly about the busy street scene. “A-are you sure? I don’t want to be a bad host.”

“You’re never a bad host, Pinkie.” He gestured forward with his head. “Come on, you know where the inn is, right? Show me the way, tour guide.”

“Aww, look at you, trying to cheer me up.” She patted him on the cheek, her typical smile coming back, then began to bounce ahead. “Come on, I made us reservations at the Rock Bottom Inn. At least they’re still in town.”

Fine wasn’t sure if he was responsible for her abrupt cheer or if she had simply straightened the mask. He hoped it was the former.

Any place with the title of Rock Bottom would naturally lead Fine to be suspicious of its quality. Fortunately, the inn Pinkie brought him to was in far better condition than its title suggested. A two-story structure nestled amongst pines trees, the walls of its bottom floor were made up entirely of basalt while the top floor consisted of crisscrossing timbers not unlike a classic log cabin. Dark brown shingles made up its roof. On the whole, it struck Fine as pleasantly rustic.

The interior was similar, with a spacious main lobby that clearly doubled as a dining room. It was already crowded with patrons, far more than either Pinkie or Fine had expected. As they were registering their arrival at the front desk, she decided to ask what was with all the visitors.

The clerk, a middle-aged blonde-coated stallion with a thinning brown mane, explained: “They’re part of that relief group started in Canterlot. Y’know, the charity set up by them fancy ponies? Rockstead got named one of their base of operations for helping the towns south of here that got damaged when that giant snake thingy went on a rampage.”

Fine examined the crowds curiously. He’d known Fancy Pants and Rarity had formed such a charity, but this was the first time he’d seen the ponies directly involved. “The Silma Incident was almost a year ago,” he noted. “I’d have thought they’d be almost done at this point.”

The stallion nodded while giving Pinkie the keys. “They are. Another week or two and they’ll be packing up. Way I hear it, they’ve done all they can do for this part of Equestria. Homes rebuilt, lives back on track, all that business.”

Pinkie pronked in place. “Wow, that’s so cool! I mean, I knew Rarity was helping Fancy manage some big fundraising group to help the ponies, but I didn’t know it was going on all over Equestria. They should totally celebrate being such awesome helpful goodhearted ponies.”

Fine smiled at her good cheer. It wasn’t often he saw her behave this way and didn’t notice any of the signs of deception. Her life might be a bit confusing and troublesome right now, but she was still the Element of Laughter. A shame he had to be the wet blanket to her radiant joy. “I don’t know, Pinkie. I bet the first thing on their minds is getting home, not parties.”

She turned to boop his muzzle, her own turned up in a lecturing manner. “That’s because you are a professional party pooper. But I am a professional party pony, and I say these folks need a party. No, they deserve one! Rarity’s done so much to make all of this happen, and it’s past time I, Pinkamena Diane Pie, lived up to her example by helping the ponies here.”

It took some effort to keep from frowning, but somehow Fine pulled it off. Throwing parties for a bunch of ponies they didn’t even know? They were supposed to be getting to know one another, not playing around. And yet, as he stared into those big blue eyes that somehow combined seriousness and mirth into a single package, he realized there was no point in arguing. Pinkie Pie was Pinkie Pie, and Pinkie Pie did what Pinkie Pie wanted. Getting between her and the chance to throw a party? Not happening.

That didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Excuse me?”

They turned in unison to find a young mare before them, probably still a teenager. The earth pony was backed by a small herd comprised of both genders and all races. The young mare glanced between the two of them before settling her gaze on Pinkie. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but it sounded like you know Miss Rarity Belle personally.”

“Yes indeedy doddily!” Pinkie nodded frantically. “She’s one of our bestest best friends and a really swell pony. Why, do you know Rarity?” A quick gasp. “Are you her friends, too? Please say yes! That would be super amazing to know that Rarity’s making more friends thanks to her hard work.”

The mare weathered Pinkie’s verbal barrage with commendable patience, smiling the entire time and only looking a little anxious. “I-I’m afraid I only met Miss Belle once. I was there at her speech in Coltcago, and I must say, she really inspired me! I volunteered that very day.” She looked back to her companions, who all nodded enthusiastically. “Everypony here was just enthralled by Miss Belle’s passion and generous spirit. We all came out here because of it, and these last few months have been the most rewarding of our lives.”

So, not only a fashionista, but a charismatic leader of ponies as well. Fine was impressed. He hung back and let Pinkie do all the talking with this group, though. After all, she was in her element; best to let her shine while she had the chance.

And shine she did. Within minutes she was greeting all the ponies in the tavern dining room, whether they were part of the relief effort or not. Fine had no doubt that by the time it was over she’d have a few dozen new names memorized and every intention of making the lot of them her friends. Hay, who was he kidding? She’d probably already made them her friends just by saying ‘hello’. She had that effect on ponies.

The clerk at the counter watched with a warm smile as the crowd grew a little livelier. “That’s some mare you’ve got. She always like this?”

Fine’s first instinct was to correct the stallion, but held himself back. It seemed he was doing a lot of that. “Pretty much,” he replied with a shrug. They both perked their ears when a corner of the room burst into raucous laughter. Pinkie wasn’t behaving any stranger than usual, so Fine guessed she’d said something to cause the ruckus. “You’ll never find a mare with more energy.”

Pinkie did her work, darting from pony to pony and bringing good cheer. Fine could only watch, mesmerized by the skill at which she brought about smiles. They followed her random path like the wake of a ship, speckled with giggles and cheers. It amazed him to no end, how she could brighten a room just by being in it. For a few precious minutes, the entire purpose of their visit to Rockstead was forgotten in a pleasant flood of infectious happiness.

“Hey, Fine, guess what?” She hopped to his side and wrapped a hoof around his shoulder. The unfamiliar contact made him tense up, as always. “You were wrong, Mr. Smarty Pants! They’d love to have a party thrown for them. And I am just the mare for the job!” Without letting go – in fact, she seemed to have gotten even closer with the motion – she turned to look over their shoulders to the clerk. “Mr. Collate, is it okay if we used the Rock Bottom for the party? I promise it’ll be a good one, as good as a party pony can make it.”

The stallion’s warm smile remained firmly in place. “That would be wonderful, and certainly good for business. When did you plan to have it?”

“Next weekend!” She was now pressed flank-to-flank against Fine. She looked him in the eye at point blank range. “You’re okay with that, right, Fine?”

Fine’s mind was running in little circles trying to get a hold on his feelings and knowledge at once. Her flank feels nice. How did she know the clerk’s name? She’s so close I can smell her. What was this weekend? She smells like strawberries. Do we have to have a party? Her flank feels nice. We didn’t come all this way for parties! I really like that smell. Her eyes are real pretty. What was that about a party? Her flank feels nice.

A pink hoof squished his muzzle, forcing his head to lean back slightly. “Hello! Equestria to Fine, come in, Fine.”

His eyes crossed, taking in the hoof pressed against his muzzle, then refocused his attention on those sapphire pools. “Oh. Right. Uh, party?”

She nodded solemnly. “Party.”

“Party.” He returned the nod, smiling as a fresh bout of heat hit his cheeks. Only now did he realize she was no longer pressed to his side but standing in front of him. “We can do that, sure.”

She whipped around and spread her arms wide. “You hear that, everypony? The ‘You’re All Amazing for Helping Ponies Out Party’ is on, and you’re all our very special guest! Saturday afternoon, see you all here!” The inn erupted in cheers so loud Fine had to fold his ears against the noise.

Their impromptu introduction to Rockstead complete, the two of them made for the stairs. Pinkie hummed the whole way, her tail swishing playfully. Fine wondered if she knew she was doing it practically in his face. The smell of strawberries – from a shampoo, perhaps? – wafted into his nostrils with every swing, reminding him of his little lapse of cognizance a few minutes ago. What had that been about, anyway? Fluttershy had never made his mind go haywire like that. Maybe because Fluttershy had never touched him in that way?

Which brought forth entirely new questions. Why had Pinkie gotten so close in the first place? Was she trying to send a message? It could be that she simply didn’t understand the definition of personal space – a very real possibility where she was concerned. Then again, while he’d certainly seen Pinkie get close with others, this had felt… different. Not like a typical hug or a leg around the shoulders. Did he like it? He couldn’t be sure.

He’d be willing to try it again. Just for the experiment, of course.

“Oh, looks like we’re neighbors.” Pinkie paused next to a door with a number that matched one of the keys she was holding up, 214. The very next door had a number matching the other key, 212. That room was at the very end of the hall and, if Fine remembered the floor plan correctly from his snooping prior to their trip, was slightly larger. “Which one do you want?”

Fine had decided this matter long ago, but couldn’t resist a happy smile that she’d bothered to ask. “I think I’ll take 214.” He plucked the key from her with his magic. “Give you the one with the most sun.” She’d like that, right? Being the bright and cheerful pony she was.

Turning to him, she cocked her head in a curious pose. “Really? I’d have thought you’d want the corner room.”

“Why?”

Her eyes flicked over his shoulder, as if to check to make sure nopony else was in the hall. Her answer had no less cheer, but was quiet. “More windows. More exits. More ways to observe what is happening around you.” She smiled and added in a knowing tone, “Safer.”

A wave of warmth filled him at her words. “It seems we were both trying to be considerate of one another.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” She eyed the key in her hoof, then shrugged and unlocked the door to room 212. “If you insist, I’ll take it! Thanks, Fine.”

“You’re welcome.” Guided by curiosity, he stepped halfway into Pinkie’s room to investigate. It had a bed clearly intended for two, and large bay windows opening up on the two corner walls, both with heavy-looking, plum-colored curtains. The floor was a hard, unlacquered wood covered in rugs depicting flowers, mostly lilies. There was a bathroom taking up a corner, as was typical, along with a simple sink and vanity. No closet, but a rack for hanging clothes stood near the door. A small coffee table with two plush brown chairs dominated the remaining corner, and the whole room was lit by wall-mounted lamps with yellow shades. The entire room had a rustic look, much like the rest of the inn, and Fine found it quite comfortable-looking.

Pinkie, her saddlebags already placed on the bed, opened the curtains of the east-facing window and stared out at the scenery. It was mostly woodlands. Seemingly dissatisfied, she went to the other window. Although the limbs of a large pine tree were in the way, from there she could see the town and get a good look at the ongoing activities of the locals. “Ah, that’s more like it!”

The forest appealed more to Fine’s taste in vistas, but he wouldn’t begrudge Pinkie her whims. He did regret that his own room wouldn’t have this nice view of the forest, though. No matter; he could sacrifice that if it meant making her a little bit happier.

He glanced at her, fully expecting to hear some sort of playful remark about the ponies on the streets below. Instead, he saw her mane had fallen flat again, and her shoulders were slumped. “Pinkie?”

Her ears flicked. She turned her head towards him, but only slightly, and didn’t look from the window. “I’m sorry about the party. I know it’s not what you had in mind for this trip.”

No, no it wasn’t. He stepped closer but kept his distance. “It’s okay. You’re Pinkie Pie. You do parties.”

“Yeah… I am.” Not a drop of enthusiasm in the words. She pawed at the floor, head lowering just slightly. “Umm… You don’t mind going first, do you? I promise I’ll talk about myself some tomorrow, but… right now…”

Go first? He’d come to think they wouldn’t be discussing anything at all tonight, that perhaps she’d want to spend more time with the ponies downstairs or plan her party. He finally let himself stand at her side, and followed her gaze to the streets below. As he watched the few ponies still out and about, he took in the town of Rockstead. It was a small place, smaller than even Ponyville had been pre-Silma. Only now, observing the buildings that looked new and clean, did he remember her earlier concerns: this wasn’t the Rockstead she remembered.

He looked to her solemn face and felt pity. “Sure, I can go first. What did you want to talk about?”

She jumped into the answer with much more energy than he expected. “Oh, I have no idea. I have so many questions like why you like writing so much or what’s your thing with ‘little misses’ or why I’ve never not once heard you sing and I already know a little but not everything and I don’t want to ask you anything big at the start like who was the first pony you—” Her face froze, pupils shrinking to pinpricks as she turned away once more. She kicked her forehoof back and forth on the floor a few times. “B-but we should start simple. Yeah. Simple. So… um… cutie mark?”

Cutie mark? Fine smiled and bumped her shoulder with his own. “You mean I never told you my cutie mark story?”

“No?” She scrunched her face up, tongue sticking out the corner of her lip as one eye examined the ceiling for clues. “No. Pretty sure I missed that. I’d have remembered.”

“Maybe.” He looked out the window, still smiling as he thought back to a time before she was even born. He promptly resolved to do that less, as it reminded him how much older than her he happened to be. Was that a problem? He was almost twelve years her senior. What was the term for that, robbing from the cradle? Not that Pinkie wasn’t an adult, of course, but the point still stood. Ponies might care about that. Did he care about that? He didn’t think so.

Pinkie’s quiet voice derailed his train of thought. “If it’s not a good story, you don’t have to…”

Only now did Fine realize he was frowning at his reflection. He shook his head to clear away the worries that had been forming. “No, it’s not that. I just… nevermind.” He turned to smile for her once more. “Cutie mark stories, eh? I can do that.” He spun about to display his cutie mark, the silhouette of a rearing pony that blended in neatly with his mottled brown coat. “Obviously, my mark is all about stealth.”

Pink hooves grabbed his flank, making him jump. Pinkie peered at his cutie mark as if it might hold the secrets of the universe, which simultaneously amused and disturbed him. He almost stepped away, but forced his legs to remain still while she continued her observation. If he was to be in a relationship with… well, with anypony, shouldn’t he get more accustomed to close contact such as this? Although he wondered how she’d feel if he’d done the same to her.

Who was he kidding? She’d probably let him.

“So, what did you do?” she asked, stepping back at last. “Hide from a manticore? Oh, go on a secret ninja stealth mission?” Only now did he notice that her mane was regaining some of its bounce. He promptly decided that if staring at his flank made her mood go up a little, she could do it all she wanted.

No, scratch that. It was still too unnerving. He’d have to find other ways to improve her mood.

“No ninjas were involved,” he said with a chuckle, sitting by the window. “But I was on something of a mission, if you will. I…” He paused, wondering just how much he wanted to explain. At her doe-eyed, eager look, he sighed and nodded. The whole truth, then. “Back when I was a colt, I… My family was rich. It was just my father and me back then, so this was after the island.

“I was a bit of a problem child. I’d skip school to visit the poor parts of town. I met with all the ‘bad’ ponies. The gangsters and the thieves and the killers.”

Pinkie let out a quiet gasp. “Wasn’t that dangerous for a little colt?”

“It could be.” He smiled, recalling once more his days of wandering the dirty streets of Las Pegasus, being greeted by the less fortunate and seedier ponies. “They thought I was lost the first time, left me alone because I obviously had nothing worth stealing. But then they learned how smart I could be, how observant. I’d watch them commit a crime, then later I’d ask them ‘why not do it this way?’ They – and I – found that I knew how to be sneaky and deceptive. Before any of us knew it, they were greeting me like a friend and asking for help with things.”

Only now did he notice that Pinkie was staring at him, her eyes bigger than he thought was physically possible for any pony. “You mean you were a criminal even before you got your cutie mark?”

He smirked at her shocked expression. “I was an accessory. I never actually committed the crimes, not that that absolves me. The way I saw it back then, if the ponies didn’t want their things stolen, they should have been smarter about protecting them. If anything, I saw myself as performing a service for the city: ponies learned to be smart or they got robbed.”

Her gape hadn’t eased up at all. “You were friends with those ponies?”

The smile on his face disappeared. He looked out the window as he replied. “No. Not friends. I was useful to them, no more. I… enjoyed being useful. It was the only time I did, when I was helping like that. But I knew, even back then, that they’d turn on me in an instant if they thought doing so would get them something they wanted.”

Pinkie’s ears folded back slowly. “So you wanted to feel useful, but you couldn’t trust anypony? That sounds really sad.”

“It was.” He watched a tall wagon roll past, led by a tan mare that was vaguely familiar to him. “I didn’t pick up on that fact until much later, but it was. I really only had one friend from that bunch.” He touched at his throat, disturbed to recall that he’d left the knife back at home. Why had he done that? “But more on her another time.”

At her nod, he turned back to her. “So… uh… right! Cutie mark.” His smile came back now that he had returned to the topic at hoof. “Turns out, not everything I did harmed innocent ponies. Half the fun was in getting even with the bad ones.”

Cocking her head, Pinkie asked, “But how do you decide which bad ponies deserve getting even against? I mean, if you’re helping bad ponies in the first place, and you’re kind of a bad pony yourself—” that part with some hesitancy, as if wary she’d offend him “—what makes a bad pony so bad they deserve punishing when the regular bad ponies don’t?”

Fine shook his head. “It wasn’t about good and bad, not really. Even the thieves and crooks I helped had a sense of ethics and respect about them. But this pony?” He scowled. “Bitter Rumblings was the biggest flankhole in the slums. I should know, I looked him up once after joining the Archons. The stallion was a monster, and even the lowlifes I knew to avoid thought he was a villain. Everypony was sure he had a fortune of bits hidden somewhere in his house, and somepony tried roughly once a week to find it. Many of them didn’t leave the building alive.”

His lips split wide in a wicked grin. “I spent months watching his house. Studying his movements. And one day, on a whim, I decided to sneak inside.”

His eager audience gasped, raising both hooves to her lips. “Why would you do that?”

Crouching as if to pounce, he flexed his shoulders and flicked his tail. “Because I could. Because it was a thrill. Because I wanted to help ponies get back at him.” He felt the familiar delight of the hunt, the proximity of the enemy, the emotional high of coming so close to being caught. He couldn’t have stopped smiling if he’d wanted to. “But mostly because it sounded like fun.”

Pinkie shook her head frantically. “But he could have killed you!”

“And he would have, had he caught me.” He circled her, keeping close, but not close enough to touch. He kept his voice low, watched her out the corner of his eye. A predator after his prey. Pinkie shifted and shrank from him. “I snuck in through the bathroom window. I followed him around the house, taking careful notes. Always hiding just out of sight, searching the rooms for secrets.” He whispered in her ear from behind. “So close.”

By the time she looked, he was at her other ear. “Literally underhoof.”

He drifted to the front of her, smooth as a snake, and peered into her eyes. “And then?”

She swallowed audibly. “A-and then?”

Abandoning his dark tone, he sat back and tapped his forehead, smirking. “I stole his wig.”

Pinkie’s face, still stuck in an expression of anxiousness, froze. “His… wig?”

“Yep.” He swung his hoof as if to grab something out of the air. “Snatched it right off his shiny bald head. Carried it out of that house like a trophy.”

A beat. Another. Pinkie snorted.

Her mane popped out into its normal curly wildness as she fell over laughing, legs kicking at the air. “That’s hilarious!” She rolled over, looked up at him, and burst into another fit of giggles. “Oh my gosh, I can just see a mini-you parading around with a wig like it was the greatest thing ever!”

Fighting his own giggles, he turned to pat his flank. “And that’s when I got my cutie mark. For stealing a wig.”

“Too funny!” Gasping, Pinkie finally began to control herself. “Oooh, I wish my cutie mark story was half that silly.” She sat up and grinned. “It’s almost embarrassing how cute that is compared to mine.”

He basked in the radiance of her smile, but a stray thought put a stopper on his joy. Not enough to completely kill his smile, no, but it deadened it quite a bit. As his own breathing recovered, he looked back out the window at the darkening, nearly abandoned street. “That was the first time I ever committed a crime directly.”

Pinkie’s grin gradually faded, the mirth in her eyes replaced by concern. “Oh. That’s… not something to laugh about, is it?”

“It’s not that.” He shook his head and gave her a look he hoped was encouraging. “I was so happy to have my cutie mark. I loved being sneaky and hiding from ponies. It was, and still is, a lot of fun. It’s just…” He glanced away, hoping the touch of sadness didn’t come through his expression. “That story really does foreshadow where my life was going, doesn’t it?”

With a sigh, she stepped close and rested her chin on his shoulder. He tensed at the contact, but only for a moment. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I guess that wasn’t the best way to start, was it?”

“No.” Though the act made the moths in his stomach fly a few laps, he reached an out to hug her shoulder. “It was the perfect start. We both knew this trip wasn’t going to be about happy memories.”

“I guess,” she conceded.

Together, they stared out the window as the last light of day faded, leaving them in darkness. Fine felt… he wasn’t sure what he felt. It was comfortable, and yet not? Part of him wanted to push Pinkie away. Another part of him hoped she’d never leave. His free right hoof kept rising and falling as he tried to think of what to do with it. Were they having a moment?

“Hey?” She caught his eye and smiled warmly. “Wanna hear my cutie mark story?”

He smiled back. “I already know it.”

She nodded against his shoulder. “Wanna hear it again?”

He considered her for a moment, staring into her big, eager blue eyes. He returned her smile.

It seemed he was doing that a lot, too.

Day 2

The first thing Fine did upon waking was cast a simple life detection spell that informed him Pinkie’s room was empty. This came as a mild surprise, for it was only just after sunup. Pinkie was known to be an early riser, but this seemed a little early for her. Driven by curiosity, he went through his morning routine quickly before heading downstairs in search of his missing partner.

Partner. Was that the right term? If felt personal, and he couldn’t decide if it was in a good way or not. Travelling companion? Accurate, but it lacked a certain something.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he reached the bottom floor. The area was quiet, at least this part of it. He could hear some activity going on in the back of the building, presumably the employees getting ready to open up shop. Except… hadn’t he read a sign stating the restaurant didn’t open until eleven? Doubting his recollection, he opened the front door to check the sign nailed to it.

His memory corroborated, Fine went to the back to confirm a suspicion. He paid the “employees only” sign no attention whatsoever, pressing through and directly into the kitchens. Sure enough, he found Pinkie happily at work making something. Cupcakes? Yes, cupcakes. She already had three batches cooling on the counter, while the owner watched on in apparent perplexity.

“Pinkie Pie, why are you making cupcakes in this stallion’s kitchen?”

Pinkie whipped around to flash a wide, toothy grin. “Good morning, sleepyhead! I thought you’d be out all day.”

Fine shot a raised eyebrow at the owner, an earth pony named Petri Collate (perhaps one of the strangest names Fine had encountered, and he’d seen a lot). Mr. Collate merely shrugged, appearing wholly bemused by Pinkie’s activities. Seeing no explanation forthcoming from the pale blue-maned proprietor, he turned back to Pinkie and replied in a deadpan, “It’s seven in the morning.”

“Is it? Huh. Well, time flies when you’re making cupcakes!” She turned back the bowl she’d been mixing – using her tail to hold the spoon – and began pouring its contents into cupcake pans with practiced ease. “I made plenty, so feel free to have one for breakfast.”

Seeing no reason not to, Fine plucked what appeared to be a blueberry one from a pan with his magic even as he turned back to the owner. “Tell me she’s offered to reimburse you for the ingredients.”

Mr. Collate returned a lopsided smile. “She did. I mean, she started baking before I got here to start work, but as long as she paid for them, I guess it’s no big deal. Just unexpected. And she clearly knows her way around a kitchen.”

“That she does.” Fine took a bite of the cupcake and couldn’t resist a smile at the warm confection. Without the icing it was just the right level of sweet. That always struck him as curious; for all her love of food that would give a dentist early retirement, her cupcakes were always subdued in that aspect. At least until the mountains of icing landed on top of them. Fine always got his without.

“Alright, Pinkie, I’ll bite: why are you making cupcakes at all, much less earlier than you would for your actual job?”

The pan entered the oven and the timer was set. As she brought the dirty dishes to the large sink for cleaning, she replied, “Well, I realized that I don’t really know Rockstead anymore, and that made me real sad because we’re supposed to go around town today and I won’t know anypony that I used to. Then I realized that if I don’t know anyone here, that means none of them are my friends, and Pinkie Pie is nothing without friends, so I thought ‘what better way to make friends with everypony in town than with cupcakes?’ So I came down here to bake lots of goodies to share with ponies we meet while we’re touring Rockstead!”

By the time her longwinded explanation was over, she’d cleaned all the dishes and set them in the automated dryer. She grinned at Fine before taking a look at the cupcakes she’d made. “This will have to do. I couldn’t make too many, how would I carry them all?”

There were two fundamental things Fine saw wrong with the entire scenario, but he elected to still his tongue for now. The answers she’d give might lead to a discussion inappropriate to have around strangers. He was worried, but also mildly relieved, for he suspected that the issues he was seeing were going to be important to the main purpose of this ‘vacation.’ So instead he smiled and replied, “That sounds fine.”

She promptly broke into a fit of giggles. “Whoa, I hope not! It would be really weird if I sounded like you, don’t you think?”

Fine facehoofed. “As shameless as that was, I gotta admit I walked right into it.”

“Yeah, you did!”

“Woe is me,” he declared theatrically before raising his half-eaten cupcake between them. “If this verbal abuse is what I must put up with for the duration of our trip, I may be forced to consume all the cupcakes. For the sake of my sanity and comfort, you understand.” He promptly devoured the whole thing in one big bite (which was harder than he expected).

Pinkie gasped and, despite being much too far away from them to do so, snatched up the baked goods in their pans and held them well out of his reach. “I must protect the cupcakes! Get your comfort somewhere else. My future friendships depend upon it!”

“Oh, I see how it is.” Scoffing, Fine sat and crossed his arms before turning his head up and away with a pout. “Your future friendships, which you don’t even have yet, are more important than your relationship with me! If that’s the way it’s going to be, I guess… I… should…” Only now did he notice Mr. Collate watching him with a sly, amused smile. Heat bloomed in Fine’s cheeks at the realization of exactly how he’d been acting just now. He coughed, trying to recover his playful manner, but it eluded him now that he was so well aware of having an audience. “I, um… I should…”

Pinkie was abruptly at his side, gently ushering him to the door. “Come on, Fine, there’s something you gotta see. Be right back, Mr. Collate! Oh, you’ll take those cupcakes out for me, won’t you?”

Mr. Collate chuckled. “Sure thing, Miss Pie.”

See something. Yes. That worked. Fine could already feel his jittery nerves steadying as they entered the empty, quiet dining room. Trying his best to cover his bout of self-consciousness, he asked, “S-so, what did you want to show me?”

“What I want is for you to sit down,” she replied, her tone almost motherly as she pushed him onto a cushion next to a table. “You looked a little scared back there.”

“Oh.” He took a deep breath. Then another. The tightness in his chest relaxed its grip somewhat. “Sorry. I spoiled your fun.”

“Don’t be. These things happen.” Pinkie offered a wan smile, which he returned in thanks. Then she shuffled her hooves, eyes going to the floorboards. “So, um, I know it’s supposed to be my turn to talk and all, so you don’t have to say anything, but…”

Replaying the scene in his head, Fine stared at the door to the kitchen. “I don’t know. I don’t know why I got like that. One moment I was fi—okay.” He shot her a one-eyed look of warning, to which she smirked and said nothing. “One moment I was okay, and the next I realized how I was behaving in front of a complete stranger and I… I just shut down.” He glanced down and realized his tail was tucked around his flank. He willed it straight with a scowl. “Why the hay did I do that?”

“It was kind of odd,” Pinkie admitted, sitting next him and studying him as a doctor might a patient. “I usually have to poke and prod you for a while before you start getting silly.” Then she grinned. “You’re getting better at it, though. Maybe you’re finally starting to loosen up.”

“Maybe.” Brushing his mane back, he pondered what had happened once more. He’d done some silly things in the past, for a variety of reasons. He liked to portray an aura of seriousness, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have some nonsensical fun every now and then. What made this different? The audience? He had no answer, but as he met Pinkie’s curious blue eyes, he wondered if it had to do with whom he had been playing with just as much as whom he’d been playing in front of.

Perhaps deciding to be merciful, Pinkie stood and turned away. “Those cupcakes will be done soon. I’ll grab ‘em and load ‘em up. Then we can… um…” Pausing halfway to the door, she ran the tip of her hoof in a circle on the floor while her hind legs crossed anxiously. “W-we can… go home. My home, I mean. The r-rock farm.”

Her reluctance made him immediately abandon the line of questioning that had been on his mind mere seconds ago. “That sounds good,” he replied cautiously. “If you think you’re up to it.”

She turned her head, but couldn’t look at him. After two failed attempts as speech, she gave up and turned away. Within seconds her head was raised to its full height and she was trotting at her usual, easy gait. “Hey, Mr. Collate! How are those cupcakes coming?” The door closed behind her, muffling the rest of her conversation and leaving Fine alone in the dining room.

The way she’d perfected that cheerful persona was nothing short of astounding. It was also deeply worrying, now that Fine had seen it so many times. If Pinkie had grown that good at masking whatever pain she felt, how long had she been using the mask? She’d told him that it was still the ‘real’ Pinkie Pie when she acted all happy and carefree, but he couldn’t be convinced of that. Not now. Had she been hiding herself from the world for so long that she’d honestly forgotten that it was, in fact, a fake persona?

Not that Fine could prove that. It was a theory, nothing more. The idea still left a bad taste in his mouth, though.

…he could use another cupcake.

Minutes rolled by as he thought on what the coming day would bring. He still wanted to address the questions that her little explanation left in their wake. Would they have to wait until later? Perhaps. Pinkie wanted to show him her old home, ‘wanted’ being used in a rather dishonest sense in this case. If it was really that big a deal, maybe it could wait?

Pinkie bounced out of the kitchen wearing some large saddlebags Fine recognized as meant to carry fragile objects. They rose to an unusually high height over her backside. Her cheer seemed to have returned in full force, which Fine hoped was a good thing. “Okay, Fine, I’m ready to go! Wanna explore town? ‘Cause I wanna explore town.”

“Exploring will do.” With a smile, he climbed to his hooves and approached the door, opening it for her. “After you.”

“Aww, such a gentlepony.” The chuckle that rose from her was very distinct compared to her typical giggling. She trotted past him, all smiles, and he got a whiff of strawberries as she passed that he was sure hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. “Think you can hoof out cupcakes for me? These things aren’t exactly meant to be opened by the pony wearing them.”

“That I can,” he agreed, pausing next to her as they took in the sight of Rockstead in the early morning. The road was still mostly empty, though a few fellow early risers were going about their business. He glanced around at the assorted stores and shops on their street. “So, where to first?”

“I thought we’d walk a semi-circle.” Pinkie pointed to their right and aimed her hoof steadily left. “That’ll let us see lots of the town before we hit our d-destination.” Her smile cracked, but only for a fraction of a second. “It’ll also take longer and let us meet lots more ponies. And more ponies means more friends!”

Fine elected not to go anywhere near that breach in her mask. “Sounds good to me. Lead on.”

They travelled at a slow, steady pace. The speed had just as much to do with Pinkie’s frequent greetings of strangers as it did the leisureliness of her steps. Fine knew she was stalling. He didn’t mind. Whatever they were set to do later, it was obviously a challenge for her. If she needed to do it slowly, he’d let her do it slowly.

They passed through the commercial sector of Rockstead and into a residential area. It became immediately apparent that this was the older part of the town. The arrangement of the homes lacked the fine organization of the other parts near the inn and train station, having the semblance of being built wherever their respective owners felt like it. It undoubtedly harkened back to when the town had been founded, back when none of the locals saw the need to worry about streets and addresses and urban planning in general.

In between giving out free cupcakes to strangers – which Pinkie eagerly reminded everypony came from the Rock Bottom Inn – she explained that Rockstead had been a rock farming community from the very beginning. Indeed, she claimed her family heritage had always been rock farming, at least as far as she knew.

Curious, Fine asked, “So did you learn all of this from your family or…?”

She shook her head, which may have been more related to her ostensible desire to take in every piece of the town visually than his question. “I did research when I was younger. I was curious to know more about where I came from.” She gave him a playful smile. “Haven’t you ever wondered the same about yourself?”

He blushed and averted his gaze. “Heh, my family were all carpenters and gardeners, actually.”

A gushing “Really?” escaped Pinkie before she screwed up her face in a questioning expression. “But I’ve never seen you build anything, and you don’t have a garden.”

“Says the baking party pony who never does anything with rocks.”

“Touché.” She giggle-snorted as they entered a large area covered in white and purple tents. “Oh, what’s all this?”

They stopped to look around, soon spotting a nearby sign indicating they’d entered a local park. Another, temporary sign marked the park as the Rockstead headquarters of the Royal Egalitarian Laborers, or REGAL. Fine gestured at the area as he said, “Looks like this is where Rarity’s and Fancy’s ponies set up shop.”

“Awesome!” Pinkie tugged on his shoulder and trotted forward. “And it totally makes sense to set up here where it’s out of everypony’s way. Maybe we’ll meet some of the cool ponies from the inn last night.”

Fine frowned as he followed. “So if we meet them, and we give them cupcakes, doesn’t that mean fewer cupcakes with which to make more friends later?”

Spinning around, Pinkie gave him a look that was actually hard, her eyes narrowed and her lips set in a taut frown. Her tone grew more forceful with every word. “Now, Fine, that’s no way to think. I didn’t make these cupcakes to buy friends, I made them to be friendly. You don’t make friends by giving away random goodies. Any relationship based on that alone is a sham!”

His ears folded back involuntarily and he took a step back. He required a few seconds just to recover from the initial shock of her forceful manner. “Sorry. I, uh… I guess I’m still not used to the whole ‘friendship’ thing.”

After another second or two of peering, she abruptly perked right up and grinned. “Aww, that’s okay! Ol’ Pinkie Pie is always happy to educate you on the matter.” She stepped up and patted his cheek playfully. “Let this be a lesson for you, young ponywan: if I make three dozen cupcakes and run out within an hour, that doesn’t mean I only made three dozen friends. There’s a lot more to friendship than that.”

Fine snorted, replying with a half-serious “I’m eleven years older than you.”

“Yet still so far to go.” She sighed melodramatically before grinning, turning around, and bouncing her way into the REGAL camp. Fine watched her go, wondering at how serious she’d become. It was like he’d truly offended her with his suggestion. Which, in afterthought, had been a dumb one. Of course friendships didn’t work like that, and it had been shallow of him to suggest otherwise. So maybe he had it coming. But the forcefulness of her reprimand still stuck out in his mind as he followed.

It seemed most of the REGAL volunteers were living in the camp itself. Fine and Pinkie passed several large tents that appeared to have bunk beds and hammocks set up within. Of the eight tents they passed, five were empty, indicating to Fine either that the ponies were out in other towns working or had gone home due to a lack of needed horsepower. Probably the latter, given what they’d already learned. A few ponies were out and about, and Pinkie wasted no time greeting them and offering cupcakes.

They were nearly out of the camp when they came across a large stone pavilion. Assorted boxes and indeterminate objects covered in sheets were set on the sides of it. A large, covered wagon sat nearby, which Fine recognized from the night before. Pinkie and he were prepared to move past, paying it little attention, but paused upon noting a lone pony sitting at the edge of the stage. It was the same dark-tan pony he’d seen the night before along with the wagon, now clearly a unicorn. Her cutie mark…

“Wow,” Pinkie whispered, leaning forward to study the mark.

Wow, indeed. The young mare’s mark appeared to be a… sun? No, not quite. A-hah, a sunflower! Except instead of petals, it had playing cards angled so that only a corner could be seen. Each playing card looked like the real thing, and not a one repeated. It was truly one of the most complex and intricate cutie marks Fine had ever laid eyes on. He and Pinkie shared a wide eyed look, and he knew they were thinking the same thing: What does a pony’s special talent have to be to get a cutie mark like that?

Only then did Fine note just what the mare was doing. Her forehooves worked in a fluid, continuous rolling motion. In so doing, she was effectively juggling bits, but was doing so in a way that every time a coin landed on her right hoof she would roll it, sending the coin twirling around and under her hoof before flying to the left hoof, which in turn caught and rolled the coin in a similar fashion over the top, around to the left, and then up into the air after completing almost a full circle. It was hard to count the number, but Fine guessed she had at least seven of them moving at once, the coins dancing so quickly it seemed neither hoof went without touching one at any point in the routine.

And to make matters more interesting, the mare wasn’t even watching her own actions. Instead, her gaze was set straight forward, locked on something beyond their view. It was almost like she was meditating. Pinkie and Fine shared another glance, and he noticed the corner of her lip quirked up. He couldn’t blame her, the mare’s trick was fascinating. She wasn’t even using any magic, if the lack of lighting from her horn was any indication. He might have been more entertained if the sight wasn’t tickling something in the deepest depths of his memory.

Without warning, the mare stopped her hoof motions, catching all the coins in her right hoof with deft ease. She then clapped her hooves together and then held them forward and up as if presenting a prize.

There were only two bits.

A second passed. Another.

“Oh my gosh that was amazing!”

The mare let out a cry and collapsed onto her side, away from where Pinkie had all but shouted in both her’s and Fine’s ears (he had to take a step back himself). Still lying on her side, the mare shifted her head up to look wide-eyed at her hitherto unnoticed audience. “Um… thanks?”

Giggling, Pinkie offered a hoof to help her up. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ve never seen a trick like that one before. Are you a magician pony? Do you do other coin tricks? Are coin tricks all you do? You really should expand beyond coin tricks, because even if that was amazing I imagine your show would get kinda dull after a few hundred times doing the same trick and hey do you know Trixie because she’s another magician pony and she’s kinda sorta a meanipants at times but maybe if we just—”

Fine wrapped a leg around Pinkie’s neck, placing his hoof over her lips to stop the onslaught. “Don’t mind her, she’s excited.”

“So I see.” Accepting Pinkie’s hoof, the mare sat up straight and shook her head as though to clear it. That done, she beamed at them. “So you saw my rolling coin trick? It’s an oldie, but a goodie. I’ve got a lot more, but you’ll have to wait for my next show.” She gestured to herself. “I’m Sunflower Sweet, magician and gardener! I’ve been travelling with the REGALs, trying to use my show to spread some good cheer.”

Sunflower? Fine struggled against his faltering recollection, but the name definitely rang a bell. It had to have been really far back in his past for him to not readily remember, but she was much too young for him to have known before his turn to the Bloodmane. Maybe she just reminded him of somepony?

His distraction was enough for Pinkie to escape his hold, ducking under his arm and bouncing forward. “Heya, Sunflower Sweet! My name’s Pinkie Pie, baker and professional party pony, and after seeing that I just know we’re gonna be bestest best friends.”

Sunflower’s smile didn’t fade, but it did gain a hesitant quality to it. Fine promptly added for her, “Don’t take it personally, Pinkie’s friends with everypony.”

“I really am, and even some non-ponies. Oh!” She turned and gestured to him in a grandiose manner. “And this fine specimen of a stallion—” She paused, blinked, giggled. “You’re right, it is really easy to do that. A-hem, this is Fine Crime.” She leaned over to stage whisper, “But don’t call him Mr. Crime, he doesn’t like it.” Then in her normal voice and volume, “Which is a shame, because ponies should like their name, especially if it’s one they picked out for themselves. Why did you pick that, Fine?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, realizing that she’d touched upon an interesting topic. “Y’know, I think we might have to talk about that. Later.”

Sunflower stared at him. Indeed, she’d been staring with her mouth partly opened and eyebrows hidden in her yellow mane ever since his name had been announced. It was starting to make him anxious. “Are you alright?”

“Your name is… Fine Crime.” Sunflower took a cautious step closer, her eyes centered on his. “That coat, those eyes. We’ve met, haven’t we?”

Now Fine was really scouring his memories. Ears folded down, he glanced at Pinkie, but she merely looked back with a nonplussed frown. “I… Maybe? I admit, there’s something familiar about you, but…”

Tapping her hooves together and blushing, Sunflower spoke softly. “I was your little flower.” At his cocked head, she shrank a little. Her next words came so quiet he almost didn’t hear her in spite of the quiet. “You were my shadow pony.”

Shadow pony? Shadow pony.

…

I want to see the shadow pony. I want to thank him. Are you watching, shadow pony?

Fine could almost feel his jaw hitting the ground. He reached up to point tentatively at her. “The homeless filly of New Clusterdam.”

With a gasp, Sunflower sat up as straight as her ears. “Yes!”

“Y-you… you lived under a scenic overlook in an abandoned park. Slept under a fallen sign. I used to sneak you food. You stole my knife.”

“Yes!” Sunflower pronked about with a silly grin. “You remember, it’s really you! Oh my gosh, I never thought I’d see you again! And your—” She paused, staring once more with an awed expression. “Your name’s Fine Crime. All these years, I never knew your name. Fine Crime.”

“Uh, Fine?” Pinkie sidled up next to him and poked his ribs with her elbow. “What’s going on?”

He looked from her to Sunflower’s warm smile and back. “She’s… It’s quite a story, really. But in a nutshell, she’s the pony that taught me that I’m not…” He licked his lips and averted his eyes. “That I’m not evil.”

Seeming to grasp the significance of the moment, Pinkie regarded Sunflower with an expression of wonder, then concern. “I might want to hear this story in detail later. If that’s okay?” The last part with a hint of indecision.

“It most certainly is.” Fine smiled warmly at Sunflower, who returned the expression. “I think it’s one of my better memories.”

Sunflower began twiddling her hooves. “I a-always wondered if you might still be watching. If I might have made you proud. There’s so much I wanted to say to you! But…” Her ears folded back. “I guess if you didn’t remember me that easily then you haven’t been, have you?”

“I told you I wouldn’t.” Though he imagined it would have been more appropriate to look stern at this point, Fine couldn’t stop smiling. That this bright, clean, and talented mare was the same dirty, hungry filly from his youth boggled the mind. “It was the right decision at the time. Looks like it worked out.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Glancing at Pinkie as if she’d forgotten she was there, Sunflower asked, “So how do you know Fine?”

Promptly perking up, Pinkie started with, “Oh, he’s my—” Her mouth froze mid-word, her eyes going wide. Tiny pupils darted between Fine and Sunflower like little ping pong balls. “Um… he’s my…”

Fine didn’t have to wonder about her sudden bout of indecision. The question plagued him just as much as it surely did her. Pinkie Pie needed rescuing, though how to do that eluded him. He had an idea, and the thought of it brought heat to his cheeks. But he had to get used to it, didn’t he?

So he stepped forward and wrapped his leg about her shoulder. Pinkie looked up at him, disbelief in her gaze, as he looked to Sunflower. “Pinkie and I are close, but we don’t rightly know what we are. We came here, to her hometown, to try and figure it out.”

“Oh.” Sunflower examined them curiously, then grinned. “So you two are…?”

“Maybe.” Fine smiled and, though the action added kindling to the flames in his face, nuzzled the top of Pinkie’s head. “We’re testing the waters.” Pinkie’s only addition to the conversation was a giddy giggle spiced with no small amount of nervousness.

Sunflower nodded. “Right, I gotcha.” But then her face went pale. “W-wait, does she know?” At their combined stares she fidgeted, tail flicking. “I m-mean, how I stole your knife and… a-and I probably shouldn’t say, but…”

“Yes,” Fine said firmly. “She knows.” He glanced at Pinkie, whose lips were pursed in a thoughtful, uncertain expression. “She means the trait we share.”

Pinkie raised an eyebrow, thought a little more, then deflated. “Oh. That.”

When Fine looked towards her again, Sunflower had retreated from them with eyes like saucers and her tail tucked between her legs. “Sh-share? A-as in you’re both—”

“Used to be,” Fine corrected, raising a hoof in a calming gesture. “Neither of us have done that in a long time.”

“Oh. Right.” Sunflower relaxed, but only a little. “That’s good.”

Sensing that it was time to give her some space, Fine pulled back from Pinkie and nodded for the nearby exit. “Pinkie was just about to show me some things from her past. But if you’re interested in catching up, we’re staying at the—”

Pinkie’s gasp, truly an extravagant thing, bowled over his words. She pounced, landing before a startled Sunflower with her rump in the air and tail wagging. Fine couldn’t see her face, but he had seen her like this enough to easily imagine the stars in her eyes. “You’re a cool magician pony with cool magician tricks! That kind of show would be perfect for the party we’re hosting next weekend at the Rock Bottom Inn. Can you come, please please pretty please with cherry-flavored frosting on top?”

Sunflower blinked, her ears twitching, perhaps trying to process what had just been said. But then her face lit up in recognition. “Oh, so you’re the one hosting that party they told me about last night. Yes, I absolutely will come! In fact, I had intended to find you and ask about it.”

With a whoop that probably woke up the entire camp, Pinkie bounced circles around her and Fine. “We’re gonna have a magician at our party! Now it’s gonna be that much better! Isn’t this great, Fine?”

Fine waited until she landed nearby to jerk his leg out over her back, keeping it stiff as she attempted another pronk. When she hit his steadfast leg she rattled with the accompanying sound of a wobbling spring, her head blurring with the rapid vibrations. She landed on four hooves, calm once more, and rubbed the back of her neck with a sheepish smile. Sunflower watched this with the look of somepony who’d witnessed… well, Pinkie Pie.

“It’s certainly great news,” Fine conceded with a nod to Sunflower. “And you’re welcome to come by the inn any time to talk. But the two of us are in Rockstead for a reason, and we’ve a lot to talk about. So…”

Pinkie’s mane wilted as she slumped a little. “Oh, right. Why don’t you come by the inn tomorrow morning? We can make plans then. But now…” Pinkie glanced at Fine, her eyes pleading.

They were like blue knives piercing his heart, and Fine wished he could hate her for them. But as much as it hurt, he had to steer them along. If he permitted Pinkie to keep avoiding this, he doubted their relationship’s potential to last. This had to happen, and so he gestured once more to the exit. “Come on, Pinkie. It’ll be like ripping off a bandage.”

She flinched and muttered a quiet “owie.” Before leaving, however, she tapped her saddlebag meaningfully. Getting her message, he opened it up to reveal the narrow racks of cupcakes within. They’d already given away more than half of them. Pulling out a vanilla one, he offered it to Sunflower. “Pinkie made these to share with anypony we met today. She’s generous like that.”

“Oh, I couldn’t—”

Fine shushed her with a wry smile. “Trust me, take the cupcake.”

He noted that Sunflower was quite good at giving warm smiles. He imagined she represented her namesake well. “If you insist. Thank you.” She took the cupcake in her magic and nodded to Pinkie. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Miss Pie?”

Having already regained some of her cheer, Pinkie gave a sloppy salute. “Tomorrow it is. See ya later, Sunny!” With her saddlebag properly closed and Fine back at her side, she trotted for the exit. As they reached the gate, Fine glanced back to find Sunflower watching them, still wearing that pleasant smile.

Pinkie’s brain was running a mile a minute, and her mental highway barely held on.

Sunflower seems like such a nice pony. I bet her magic tricks will go great at the party. I can’t wait to hear the nitty gritty details about how Fine knows her. Unless they’re too gritty, then Fine might not like talking about it. But he said it was a good memory, so it can’t be that bad! Then again, Sunflower clearly knows he’s a — he used to be a Bloodmane, which means something bad happened and she saw it. What if Fine remembers that part and doesn’t want to talk about it? Then again maybe he just told her but why would he tell a filly about being a Bloodmane? I think she’s a little older than me but still I don’t know if she was old enough for that lesson. But she’s still real young like me which makes me wonder if Fine’s got a thing for young mares because he likes Fluttershy and wait Fluttershy’s yellow and Sunflower’s tannish which is kinda like yellow and she’s got a yellow mane! Does Fine really like the color yellow? I’m not yellow oh no Fine’s going to start paying attention to Sunflower because she’s young and yellow and kinda pretty and I’m none of those things well I am young but that’s only one out of three and he told her to come by anytime which isn’t like him get a grip Pinkamena she’s just an old friend but she might not be and oh no why did I invite her to the party Fine’s going to spend all his time with Sunflower and forget all about me because I’m not yellow or pretty and I don’t have that childhood connection with him what am I gonna do I wish Rarity was here to help me!

“Pinkie?”

“I’m sorry I’m not yellow!”

Fine reared his head back at her volume, ears pressed against his skull. “Uh… I forgive you?”

Get it together, Pinkamena! She shook her head forcefully to clear it of stray thoughts and hopefully give her inner infrastructure a rest. “Sorry, I was just thinking and that kinda came out on its own?” She offered a smile she certainly wasn’t feeling.

Her lifelong experience with the expression must have worked in her favor, for Fine accepted it with a shrug and a smile of his own. “Just being Pinkie Pie?”

“Y-yeah, that’s it exactly.” She paused to examine their surroundings, realizing they’d left town and were now in a rocky, largely barren area of steep hills. Realizing she had zoned out, she took a moment to go over everything that had happened while she wasn’t paying attention. She knew that most ponies couldn’t do that, and she was glad for the ability, for it had gotten her out of a number of unfortunate situations in the past. Within short order she’d determined that, while on autopilot, she’d managed to traverse the entire circuitous route she’d suggested to Fine and given away all the rest of their cupcakes. This might have something to do with why she asn't wearing the saddlebag anymore. She hoped she’d made some good impressions.

“Hey, Fine?” She waited until he was focused on her once more before asking, “Have I been, um, particularly weird today?”

Lips diving into a nonplussed frown, he replied, “I’m honestly not sure how I’m supposed to interpret ‘particularly weird’ as it applies to you.”

Despite her anxiety, Pinkie giggled. After all, she of all ponies knew how true that statement was. “I mean like how I sometimes get extra silly and do or say things that don’t make any sense at all, even in the context of Pinkie Pie.”

“Ah.” He nodded sagely, or might have if the quirk of his lips hadn’t given away his amusement. “In that case, yes, I’d say you have. Usually when that happens I like to give up and watch the show.”

“Right.” She sat and twiddled her hooves. “I know it can get a bit much when I’m on cruise control, so… I didn’t make anypony nervous today, did I?”

“Cruise control?” he asked with a slightly tilted head. At her imploring look, he flinched and added, “Maybe one or two. You tend to get in pony’s faces and be extra loud at times like that, y’know? Or alternatively very, very quiet.”

Wonderful. She’d probably made a bad impression on half the ponies they’d met today. No matter, she’d fixed those issues before. In fact she had quite the track record of making up for silly faux pas. Noting that Fine still bore a questioning expression, she sighed and said, “Sometimes when I’m thinking really hard on something, I say and do… things like that. All my attention’s in here.” She knocked herself gently over the head a few times. “So I don’t really know what I’m saying or doing. Does… that make sense?”

“It explains a lot, actually.” He rubbed his chin as he observed her. “It’s also fairly unique, I think. Most ponies zone out and don’t respond to anything beyond obvious phrases that make it clear they aren’t listening. By comparison, your ‘cruise control’ may say some odd things, but at least they’re pertinent to the ongoing conversation at least part of the time.”

Flinching, Pinkie asked, “Does that make me weird?”

He shrugged. “It might make you a genius. But genius is often a tradeoff for some form of weirdness.”

“So… I’m weird, but in a good way?”

“Yeah.” He grinned and pulled her to her hooves. “I couldn’t have said it better. So what were you thinking about?”

Oh, no. She couldn’t tell him the truth. And reveal her newfound fears that Sunflower was probably more his type and he might leave Pinkie alone forever once he realized it? Maybe just mentioning it to him could trigger a subconscious attraction! Time to dodge, Pinkie! “Oh, just wondering about the party. You’re still okay with the party, right?”

“Of course,” he replied easily. “Honestly? I’d be more concerned if you went two weeks without hosting a party. That would be my big clue that something’s very wrong.”

Pleased that her cunning escape plan had succeeded, Pinkie grinned and nodded emphatically. “Yep, that makes perfect sense, but there’s nothing wrong here. Just a little distracted is all.”

“Glad to hear it. Now, if you’re done being distracted?” At his querying look, she gave another nod. “Then perhaps you could get back to guiding us to your old home?”

“Right! It’s… uh…” Another look around brought forth a troubling revelation. The area was certainly familiar. Too familiar; she knew exactly where to go from here. Pinkie just wasn’t sure if she was ready to get there. Fine had been patient with her so far though, so she had to at least try. “This way, then.”

It seemed that the route home had been hardwired into her brain, for even on autopilot Pinkie’s hooves had brought them most of the way on their own. They were on a path made of compacted gravel, which she recalled led out of Rockstead and through the hills to where the rock farms resided. Pinkie tried not to think of all the times she’d walked this road with her parents and siblings, tried not to remember their voices. These memories needed to come when they were called upon, not whenever they wanted.

Fine glanced at her, and though he was obviously making an effort to have a neutral expression the worry was clear in his eyes. “Did you have a big family?”

This wasn’t a subject she was at all comfortable with, and he had to have known it. Maybe he was trying to ease into it with something simple? That… that was okay. She could cope with that. “Compared to most ponies, yes. Three siblings, Granny Pie, and my parents all lived on the farm.” At his encouraging look, she sighed and went on. “Two older sisters and one… younger. I was the oddball out, of course.” At that she smiled and shook her head. “I guess all my sisters were quirky too, come to think of it.

“Maud with her constant straight face.” She shot Fine a prolonged deadpan stare as an example and tried her best to emulate a monotone manner. “She really liked rocks. She kept a pet named Boulder. He was a rock. The best rock.”

At Fine’s chuckle, Pinkie tried her next sibling, taking on a grouchy glare and hunching her back. “Then there was Limestone, she’s the eldest and she made sure you knew it! Bit of a grouch, Limey, but she cared in her own way. She’d never admit that out loud, obviously.”

“And then…” She paused, turning her head to a valley opening in the hills. The sight was familiar. Terribly so. But… maybe it was better than the house?

Certainly better than the barn. Aware that her mane had gone flat, Pinkamena turned from the road and moved, slowly, for that valley.

“Pinkie?” Fine trotted after her, observing her face with concern as he caught up. “Are you okay?”

Okay? How could she possibly be okay? She paused to look at his handsome face and his worry that did ease her heart… a little. But even as she did, she saw something behind him. Something on the road. A pony with a pale mane hiding her face. Pinkie sucked in a staggering breath and jerked her eyes away.

“What’s the matter?” Fine placed a leg around her shoulder and tried to look her in the eyes, but Pinkie only stared straight ahead. After a few seconds of this, he sighed and nodded. “I’m sorry. Should we go back?”

Back. Back home? No. To the inn. Fine wouldn’t give up that easily. Nor should he. Gradually, she peeked around his head and over his shoulders again.

The pony was gone.

“No.” She gently brushed his leg off her and resumed her slow, wobbly walk into the valley. “I have to do this. I can’t put it off forever.” He said nothing, and was soon walking at her side yet again. Though tempted, she refrained from leaning against him for support. Maybe later, when… Later. Not now. She had to get as far as she could on her own.

Before long they came to a hillock covered in short pine trees. Pinkie’s ears went flat as she trudged onwards, every step heavier than the one before it. The trees had changed. There were fewer needles, the limbs hung limp, and some of the trunks appeared to be rotting. The sight made a hole in her stomach. When they reached the top of the mound they were met with the wide stream that ran along the northern edge of town, complete with a short dock of stone and wood. That, at least, appeared to have been well maintained over the years. A trio of picnic tables and a stone fire pit completed the quaint scene.

She sat heavily, stirring brown pine needles with the motion, and stared into the murky brown water as it passed by, neat and quiet. “We used to play here,” she whispered. “My sisters and me. Mom was scared to let us go on real camping trips, so she compromised and let us do it here sometimes.” She leaned back to stare at the tops of the trees. “This place used to be so green. So lovely.”

Fine shifted at her side, perhaps looking for the right thing to say. “I’m sorry it didn’t stay that way. I imagine it was lovely in its prime.”

Pinkie’s eyes watered as she watched a pale ghost flit among the limbs. Once such a wonderful sight. She covered her eyes with her hooves, imagining the sound of wings flapping among the trees. If she focused hard enough, she could even hear the laughter. She pulled her hooves down, opened her eyes, and whispered, “Surprise.”

Fine raised an eyebrow. Glanced around. Looked at her again. “Surprise?”

“My big cousin.” Pinkie smiled, knowing it looked as fragile as it felt. “She looked a lot like I do now, but she was this lovely white, and had a blonde mane all curly like mine. And…” She looked back at the cheerful balloons on her flank. “We practically shared cutie marks. She was so happy when she learned I had three balloons like her, she took leave from the Guard to come visit.”

Fine’s ears perked at this. “She’s a Royal Guard?”

“She was.” Taking his silence as encouragement to continue, Pinkie began walking to the dock. “The Guard was still on alert because of the Selene River Incident, so she couldn’t get off duty until two months after my cute-ceañera. She flew half-across Equestria, and I was so happy when she got here. I… really needed a happy face at the time.” She paused, just waiting for him to ask about it. She wasn’t even sure if she could answer.

What he said wasn’t what she’d anticipated. “I guess you two were pretty close.”

Relief washed over her, but it was short lived as she came to a stop next to the dock. Her eyes trailed along the wooden slats one at a time. “Yes. She understood me better than the others. I could smile when she was around. That’s why I…” She closed her eyes tight and fought the hitch in her throat. “That’s why I can’t stand she was my first.”

She glanced at Fine. He returned the look, expression solemn. When he nodded, she sighed and walked around the dock, taking a couple steps into the water. The brown river curled around her hooves, but underneath she could feel the pebbles in the sand. Digging around a little, she found what she was looking for, and carefully lifted it up. Her sight was greeted by a simple brown, muddied stone, almost as wide as her hoof. It wasn’t the rock, of course. How could it be? But nonetheless, memories seeped into her.

“Surprise took me and my sister Maud out here. She was trying to cheer us up with a little camping trip. I wasn’t into it that day, but I appreciated what she was trying to do. Maybe if I’d stayed home, I…” Her throat constricted. She closed her eyes tight and tried to get control of herself.

When at last she regained power over her vocal cords, she tossed the rock lightly. It made a big splash anyway. “It was late in the day. Surprise was showing off over the water, doing tricks and stuff. I liked how the light glistened off her wings when wet. The drops were like pretty diamonds. Rarity would have approved.

“The first vision came then. I didn’t even know it was real. I took a big rock…” She stepped onto the dock and began walking to the end of it, “walked along to the end of the dock…” Right before reaching the water, she paused and reared up. Her hoof felt heavy, as if the weight of the rock was still there. Pulling her leg and shoulder back, she gave as strong a faux-throw as she could. “And threw it. Surprise had been coming in for a dive. Didn’t see it coming.”

She swore she could hear the impact. The memory gave her shivers. Her gaze lingered on the calm waters, head low and feeling as if she wore a jacket made of bricks. “The rock hit her head, and she hit the water. When she floated back to the top, there was so little blood. I… I was disappointed by that. So I jumped in, climbed on her back, and held her head down. She didn’t even struggle all that much.

“And then even that stopped.” Pinkie sat, rubbing the moisture from her eyes. Her breathing came in a slow rhythm. She welcomed the needles piercing her heart. She had it coming, after all. “I d-didn’t realize that it was real until I dragged her out of the water. Maud found me downstream an hour later, curled at her side and still sobbing. I tried to apologize, but nopony understood. They thought it was an accident. Everypony tried to reassure me, to tell me that my ‘attempt to save her’ hadn’t killed her.”

She sniffed and turned to Fine, who remained on dry land. He watched her with serious eyes that denoted a clear understanding. Pinkie could only look at them for a few brief seconds before staring at her hooves. “They didn’t know. They hadn’t seen it. I was so scared, scared I’d do it again, b-but they all thought I was a little filly who didn’t understand. All I could do was cry and p-pray to Celestia it didn’t happen again.”

Fine said nothing for a while, and Pinkie couldn’t bring herself to move from the end of the dock. She kept imagining the ghost of Surprise coming out of the river to drag her down. If it happened, Pinkie didn't intend to resist. How could she? She’d killed the bestest best cousin in the whole world. Drowning would be going easy on her.

“Pinkie…”

She cringed, but after a time managed to conjure up the willpower to look at him from across the dock.

“Did I ever tell you about my first?”

She half-nodded, paused, shook her head. “Y-you said she was your friend. That’s all.”

“My only friend.” He moved as if to approach but hesitated when his hoof touched the wood of the dock.

Indecision tore at Pinkie. She should stay here and give Surprise her chance at revenge. But if she stayed, Fine would come to her, and he still didn’t do well around water. If he came, would Surprise take him down too? That was a scarier idea than just her being taken by herself, so Pinkie whispered an apology to her murdered cousin and trudged back to land. Fine looked as if he wanted to protest but couldn’t get the words out.

“It’s okay,” she said as she dropped to her barrel by his side. “Baby steps, right?”

Guilt washed over his face as he glanced between her and the end of the dock. “I suppose.” He settled nervously at her side, not close enough to touch but still close enough for it to seem ‘private’. “My friend’s name was Sugarcube.”

Pinkie’s ears perked, her own anxiousness fading in light of this reveal. “Really? She wasn’t related to Applejack was she?”

Fine’s gained a lopsided smile, the look on his face suggesting he’d seen the query coming. “Not that I could find, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she had Apple blood in her. She was a stubborn, wrinkly old mare who didn’t take any guff from anypony. She once killed a unicorn over a jacket and took his horn as a souvenir.”

Pinkie could feel her eyes going round. “She killed… for a jacket? Why?”

“It was winter. They were cold. There was only one jacket.” He shrugged. “Do the math. Somepony was going to freeze that night, and Sugarcube was determined it wouldn’t be her.”

After shivering, Pinkie noted, “You had some scary friends when you were a kid, Fine.” Then the implications of his statement hit her. “Wait, getting a jacket was the difference between life and death? W-was she homeless?”

“No.” He scowled and shook his head. “But her house was so old and dilapidated that it did nothing to protect from the cold. I would have helped her if I’d had access to my father’s finances, but she probably wouldn’t have accepted it. Sugarcube was big on me not falling too far down the criminal rabbit hole, and she was stubborn about getting by on her own.”

He reached for his neck, patting it a few times as if trying to find something, then looked down with a miffed expression. His ears drooped, and Pinkie knew he’d been trying to tap that knife he used to always carry around. Seeing him without it was… strange. “Was it hers?” At his questioning look, she nodded to his bare neck.

“Yeah…” He sighed and let his hoof back down. “It was made from the horn of the unicorn she’d killed.”

This probably should have horrified her, but she’d already learned what the knife had been made from, if not how it came to be. She took the news calmly and asked, “She gifted it to you?”

He scoffed, bitterness clear in his manner. “More like I stole it for myself.” Cocking his head, he studied her with thoughtful eyes. A self-conscious moment passed for Pinkie as she wondered what he was thinking.

He spoke before she could conjure the nerve to ask. “One night, I had a vision. It wasn’t my first. I’d been resisting them for some time at that point, knowing what they were but hoping I could deal with it on my own. In that night’s vision, however, I murdered my own father.”

Flinching, Pinkie looked away and said nothing. She was too busy sorting out her memories and trying to make the bad thoughts go away.

“I didn’t do it,” he admitted, “but the vision terrified me, so I ran away. Sugarcube found me, lost and alone and miserable in some back alley on the bad side of town. The crazy old mare refused to let me be, and when the vision came again I was in no state to resist. So I…” He shuddered. “I gored her throat with my horn.”

Unicorns can do that? Pinkie resisted the query as she stared into Fine’s forlorn eyes. He didn’t look away from her gaze, which both impressed her and made her feel weak. He didn’t seem as broken up about it as she felt for Surprise. But then, he’d been a lot older than her, just as he was now. Maybe that made a difference.

As if reading her thoughts, he said, “I’ll always feel guilty for it, of course, but… I think by now I’m mostly over it. Honestly, I don’t think Sugarcube would even be mad at me. And if she was?” He gave a feeble smirk. “I’d take my beatings like a big colt, just as she’d demand.”

She glanced away with a pout. “I don’t think I’ll ever be over my first.”

“Well, I suppose our circumstances were very different,” he said, indecision in his tone.

She toyed with a few blades of grass as she pondered that. “Since you told me, I’ve often wondered why my visions kicked in so quickly. It took years for you to have them after your mother died, and only months for me after—” She bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut. Why’d she bring that up? He was going to ask. She didn’t want him to ask!

“Hey, Pinkie?”

She cringed and buried her head in her hooves. No, no, no, no, no…

“How about we get some lunch?”

When the words registered her head popped out from beneath her legs, complete with sound effect. She gaped at him, only to find him watching her with a thoughtful expression. Realizing his intent, she forced her trembling lips into a smile and nodded, brushing a foreleg over her eyes. “Lunch sounds great.”

Fine chose a small café on the outskirts of town, and even then picked a table in a corner away from the other patrons. The seclusion left Pinkie feeling anxious, but she didn’t complain. For one, Fine was paying. For another, she felt she should do things his way every now and then, as a sign of her willingness to work things out between them. That’s what couples did, right? Even if they weren’t officially a couple yet, it was good to start practicing as early as possible.

At least Fine softened the topic by being sure to ask Pinkie if she was okay with it. The fact she was given the opportunity to object meant a lot more than she would have thought. Plus he ordered the spinach soup, just like her. There were heartier, richer, tastier things on the menu, but he seemed determined not to eat anything solid in her presence, not when she was still limited to liquids. It was a sweet gesture in its own way, but also kind of annoying. Ponies shouldn’t accept less than the best for her sake.

As they were going through their individual meals, Fine interrupted her thoughts. “So, got anything you wanna ask me?”

She raised her head from her bowl. “Wuh? I thought it was my turn to do a reveal.”

He smiled and wagged his hoof at her in mock lecturing. “It’s not a competition, y’know. I still feel like ponying up. Although maybe we could do something lighter than… what we talked about at the river.”

If he was a glutton for punishment, who was Pinkie Pie to argue? There were still a lot of questions wrapped up in the various closets and crawlspaces of her brain. It would be good to let them out before they started getting noisy and making her think her head was being plagued by ghosts or something. And it just so happened that their current circumstance gave her the perfect opening.

“Okay,” she said, looking around at their quiet little corner. “Why are you so…” She pondered the right word as he waited patiently. “Insulated?”

His brow furrowed as he frowned at her. “You’re gonna have to explain that one to me.”

Leaning back on her cushion, Pinkie raised one hoof horseshoe-up and tapped on it as she counted in her head. “You live in a big spooky mansion in the middle of the Everfree where nopony wants to go. When out in public alone you go out of your way to not be seen. You hide even when around friends. Hay, your cutie mark is about how good you are at hiding! And might I add that it usually takes a Pinkie Promise to get you to come to one of my parties.” Deciding she’d given enough examples, she set her hooves on the table and shot Fine a curious look. “I was just wondering why hiding from everypony is such a big deal for you.”

Fine cocked his head backwards and raised an eyebrow, his expression one of wry skepticism. “That’s hardly what I’d call a ‘light’ topic.”

A blink. “Was that meant to be a pun?”

His skepticism was promptly traded for confusion. “A pun?”

“Yeah. You know.” She raised her left hoof. “Light.” She raised her other hoof. “Dark. As in the dark that you hide in?”

He eyed one hoof, then the other before cracking a smile. “Sure, why not? I was punning hard.”

“You were punning so hard,” she agreed with a nervous giggle. “So, um, talk about something else?”

“Oh, no.” He waggled his hoof at her again, his smile not fading in the slightest. “Don’t think you can gigglecharm out of this one. You asked, I’m gonna answer.”

He thought her giggles were charming? Goddess, she must have looked horrible smiling when she’d touched upon something ‘not light’! But then, Fine was smiling too, so maybe it was okay? But he’d asked for something light! “Y-you really don’t have to.”

“As I keep reminding you, we’re here to learn more about each other.” He took a long gulp of his soup, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and settled comfortably against the cushioned wall behind his seating pillow. “This is a pretty good topic, really. I didn’t even expect it to come up.”

Now Pinkie was just plain confused. “So you didn’t expect to get surprised by a very personal topic you probably don’t want to talk about at all, and that’s a good thing? And ponies call me weird.”

Back came that charming smirk. “If I’m going to enter a relationship with you, I have to try to be at least as weird as you.”

“As long as it’s your own brand of ‘weird’.” She grabbed her curly tail and hugged it tightly while giving him a mock glare. “Pinkie Pie-brand weirdness is one of a kind, buster. Hooves off!”

He scoffed and turned up his muzzle at her antics. “As if I would want to steal from your subpar style of weird. All that giddy, silly happiness, bleck.” He made a show of sticking out his tongue and faking a retch. “I’ve got my broody, dark, and creepy weirdness, and I like it just fine, thank you very much.”

“What? I scoff at you, sir, scoff scoff scoff!” She pointed at him just to give her words more weight. “Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries.”

“Is that really the best you can do?” Fine waved a dismissive hoof. “Honestly, if I was as ignorant as you I wouldn’t let on.”

“In the short time we’ve been together, you have demonstrated every loathsome characteristic of the unicorn personality and even discovered a few new ones!”

“If your brains were dynamite there wouldn’t be enough to blow your hat off.”

She gasped, hooves hugging her polka-dot bowler to her head. “Everypony in this room is now dumber for having listened to you.”

Fine was unable to keep from smirking at this point. “Thou stink of iniquity, thou fiery-faced quintessence of all that is abominable!”

Pinkie wasn’t even trying to hide hers. “If I wanted a joke, I’d follow you into the John and watch you take a leak.”

Banging his hoof on the table, Fine declared, “You bloody old towser-faced boot-faced totem-pole on a crap reservation!”

Pressing a hoof to her chest in mock distress, she countered with, “You’re so ugly you could be a modern art masterpiece!”

Rising with both forehooves on the table, Fine fired back with a slowly enunciated, “Thou art a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-liver’d, action-taking, whorefoal, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in a way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, and the foal and heir of a mungril bitch.”

Pinkie’s eyes narrowed. Her hooves crossed. She licked her lips.

And spoke.

“It looks to me like the best part of you ran down the crack of your momma’s flanks and ended up as a brown stain on the mattress.”

Fine cringed with a “oof” and plopped back onto his cushion. “Owwwwwww. I give, I give!”

“Hah!” Pinkie hoof-pumped. “And now, I expect you to—”

“Uh, Pinkie?”

She noted where he was staring and took a look at the rest of the café. Every single eye was on them. Despite a few ponies trying to hold back their giggles, the rest weren’t exactly appearing friendly. With a guilty grin and ears folded, she turned back to Fine and muttered a quiet, “Whoopsie. Guess we got caught up in the moment.”

“Yeeeah, I think I’ll be leaving a big tip,” he agreed, rubbing a hoof over his overheating face. “And I thought I was the bad influence.”

Taking her bowl in her hooves, she affected her best Rarity tone. “I still expect you to acknowledge that my weird is better.” She announced before taking a sip of her soup.

Fine chuckled with a “Yes, princess.” Settling his cheek atop a fetlock, he sighed with a pleasant smile. “I love that I finally have somepony that will be silly back.”

Pinkie might have done a spit-take where she not wary of offending the café’s other clientele any further. He loves something about me! Forcing the wild, giddy thought back, she set her bowl down and said, “I don’t think most ponies think of you as being silly.”

“True.” In an instant, his entire demeanor changed. Sitting up straight but keeping his head slightly bowed, he affected a hard, judging glare through narrowed eyes and lips barely pulled back into a scowl, complete with a twitch of the left eye. Even knowing he was putting on a show, Pinkie felt a slight sinking sensation and the desire to hide her face, a desire she resisted. Without altering his conversational tone at all – a strange effect considering his visage – he said, “Most ponies see me as ominous and threatening. Which in a lot of cases is intentional.”

The menacing posture disappeared as quickly as it had come, Fine relaxing and lifting his bowl for another taste. “So when I do try to maintain a lighter manner, it tends to confuse ponies, or make them wary that I’m up to something.”

That idea made her a little sad, but she had to admit it made sense. Intimidation was one of Fine Crime’s many tools in his career, and she’d seen him use it more than once. It had to be difficult, though he made it seem easy. How would she feel if everybody treated her with kiddy boots whenever she tried to lighten the mood? It was a unpleasant concept, to be sure.

“You can always be silly with me,” Pinkie told him earnestly. “After all, I am the premier pony of silly.”

Setting his now-empty bowl down, Fine rewarded her with a warm smile. “And that’s just the way I like you.”

Pinkie was left herding butterflies in her chest for the rest of the meal. The problem only intensified when she realized that she was, in fact, having a private lunch with Fine Crime in a dining establishment that he was paying for.

Wasn’t that the definition of a date?

“Pinkie? Are you alright?”

She jolted, slapping on a broad grin and wondering when the temperature in the café got so high. “I-I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Fine cocked his head, concern dominating his features. “You look really red.”

“Just the spiciness of the soup! N-nothing to worry about.”

“Oookay.”

They were enjoying a quiet walk through the town. Talking little, taking in the sights, letting the afternoon pass without incident. Pinkie was fine with this. It was good to relax every once in a while, and they had two weeks with which to open up to one another. As such, she let her thoughts linger on the idea that she’d been – was still on? – a date with Fine. Perhaps that was silly. She’d be spending two weeks alone with him, so maybe the entire vacation counted as one big date.

It still felt good to think about. Good enough to make her hooves feel as light as air.

When Fine started talking, it caught her entirely off guard.

“I wanted to be invisible.”

She paused, but Fine’s head was turned away from her. They were on a quiet street in a residential neighborhood, only a few ponies around and all of those too far away to hear their conversation. Pinkie asked, “Invisible?”

His gaze was set upon two foals, likely possessing no more than five years between them, who were playing with their doting mother in a distant yard. He spoke in a low, quiet tone. “When Riptide appeared under the waves. When it swallowed my mother like a crumb. It looked right at me, and all I wanted was to hide. To disappear in the darkness. To never, ever be seen. I can safely say it was the defining moment of my life.”

Not for the first time, Pinkie wished she could have been the one to have joined him in the Door of Fears instead of Fluttershy. She’d heard of what had happened to Fine’s mother, but imagining what he was seeing in his memories right now proved beyond her. Unlike most of the others, she’d never actually seen Riptide’s face, so all she had to go on was scale. Not being able to imagine what Fine had been through as a foal made her feel… inadequate.

“You asked why I hide. Why I keep away from others.” He reached for a knife that wasn’t there, ears folding flat. “I’ve thought about that a lot over the years. When it comes down to it, I’m scared.”

She sat close, tried to get him to look her in the eyes. He wouldn’t. “Scared of what?”

“So many things.” He turned his head to follow the family until they disappeared inside their home. “Too many things. Riptide instilled in me a fear that I never quite shook off, even after Luna’s pendant helped me get over the worst of my loss. It’s a subtle thing, unconscious, but I know it’s there. I want to hide, I want to be unknown. Ponies fear the unknown. They can’t hurt the unknown.”

At last, he turned his head to her, but still didn’t meet her gaze. He offered a smile that did nothing to hide his nervousness. “Really, it’s just a theory. I don’t know for sure why. I just…” The smile disappeared as he looked at his hooves. “It just makes sense to me.”

Once, while he was still bound to that table in the darkness and rendered sober by her… ‘special’ cupcakes, Fine had confided to Pinkie that he was not as brave as so many ponies tended to believe. She’d soon learned the truth of the matter the first time she’d dragged him to one of her parties, but she’d never understood. She wasn’t even sure she understood now. But thinking about his anxieties, his use of shadows and isolation to calm down, perhaps it did make a strange sort of sense. She’d never put that together with his foalhood encounter with a world-killing serpent, but in hindsight it should have been obvious.

Even with this new information, Pinkie had to acknowledge and accept that she may never fully understand Fine’s phobias. Nor did she have to. The fact he was willing to share their existence with her – and to actively challenge them for her sake – left her feeling like a puddle of warm pony puddy.

But her mind wasn’t so muddled by the heady warmth of her heart as to take away her sense of fair play. She leaned against him, snuggling comfortably into his side, before asking, “If I’m ever pressing you too hard and you need a moment to hide, you’ll tell me, right?”

He shifted his head to finally meet her gaze with a lone eye. He smiled appreciatively. “Of course.”

They shared that pleasant moment for a few more minutes, only breaking up when the giggling of passers-by made them feel a little awkward. But the warm feeling didn’t leave Pinkie for a long time.

“Why parties?”

They were in a small novelty shop selling decor and jewelry made from colorful geodes. Pinkie looked up from a brooch she’d been thinking about getting for Rarity as a souvenir. “What about parties?”

Fine’s gaze lingered on a music box with moving geode pony figurines on top, miming a little dance with their stiff limbs. His words were solemn as he observed their twirls and bounces. “I reacted to my traumas by hiding. You throw parties. It’s… a strange difference.”

“Oh.” She turned back to the brooch, but could no longer focus on it. She supposed it was indeed her turn. If only he’d picked something easier. But no, she wouldn’t back down. She couldn’t. There were far, far worse things to talk about.

Out the corner of her eyes, she noted his anxious glance. He would try to take the question back if she didn’t hurry. Still, she hesitated. Maybe she should let him. No, that wasn’t fair. But…

He opened his mouth. Panicked, she spoke over him. “It’s my talent.”

He blinked. Frowned. Seemed to puzzle over this. “I always thought of your talent as being more about spreading happiness.”

“But I first did that with a party,” she replied, staring at her many unhappy reflections in the brooch’s shiny decorations. “They’re a part of me. I can’t just… not do parties.”

Scratching the side of his head and flicking his red tail, Fine at last admitted, “I’m a little confused. You don’t seem all that thrilled about this, but parties are your special talent.”

“Cobbling is Nye’s special talent, but he’s never happy about it.”

Fine’s lips pursed. “Right. Because of his father.”

She started to speak, but caught herself and glanced around. The store only had one other patron, but she still felt a cold dread rising up her legs. Without a word she prodded Fine into a corner where they might have at least a sense of privacy. Even then, she spoke in a hushed whisper, keeping her head close to his so as to be as quiet as feasibly possible. “This isn’t a good place to talk about this.”

That’s not what she meant to say, but it’s what came out. She flinched and watched him closely, hoping he wouldn’t take offense.

Instead, he blushed and gave a small nod. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Another time, then.”

Oh, but this wasn’t fair at all! He’d told his story out on the open road, and she was holding back? “I p-promise, I’ll talk about it later. Okay?”

“It’s fine.” He smiled and nudged her shoulder with his own. “There’s no rush. Come on, I think I found something Fluttershy would like.”

As he led her back to the collection of music boxes, Pinkie couldn’t fight against the guilt washing over her. She’d talk tonight. She Pinkie Promised to herself.

The dining room of the Rock Bottom wasn’t as active tonight as it had been yesterday. Perhaps because it was Sunday and ponies had to get up early the next day? Pinkie didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. On the one hoof, her social butterfly side was in desperate need of attention and getting to chat and play and make friends with all the ponies there was a welcome reprieve from an entire day of just being with Fine. Not that being with Fine was unpleasant, but a party pony had needs!

On the other hoof, all this socializing was keeping her from keeping her Pinkie Promise! Sure, she’d only made it to herself and not to Fine, but it still counted. Yet as the last hours of the day ticked by and her anxiety grew, she still hobnobbed with the locals. Deep down she knew she was postponing the inevitable.

Fine, ever the loyal trooper, didn’t head upstairs. He put up with the noise and crowds, and even seemed to be having a good time at first. As the night wore on however, he gradually appeared less and less comfortable with the whole ordeal. Pinkie kept glancing at him, half begging him to give up and go to his room and half praying he wouldn’t so she’d never have to talk about the past, even if it did mean breaking a Pinkie Promise.

But he never did.

At last she could take the guilt no more. Bidding the ponies goodbye, she gestured to a very relieved-looking Fine and headed upstairs. Ever the calm and collected stallion, he didn’t rush like she expected. His nonchalance would have fooled anypony. Anypony, that is, except Pinkie. And maybe Fluttershy.

Waiting until they arrived at their rooms, she turned on him. “Why didn’t you just go upstairs and wait for me?”

His eyebrows rose. “You mean you expected me to?”

“Yes!” She threw her hooves up high. “You looked miserable near the end! If you’re not happy, do something to fix it. I don’t want to see you sad under any circumstances.”

His ears lowered and he rubbed his foreleg. “But I came here to learn more about you. How can I do that if I’m not with you?”

She poked him in the chest. “I told you! If I’m making you uncomfortable, you’ve gotta tell me.”

“But you are not the one making me uncomfortable,” he replied sheepishly. “I want to know everything about you. I’m not going to come up here and hide in my room when I could be with you.”

Pinkie’s heart sprouted wings and tried to fly its way out of her chest. It might have, too, had it not been for that darned ribcage in the way. Pawing at the floor, she asked, “Y-you mean that?”

“Of course,” he answered as if it were obvious. “I can put up with a couple hours of discomfort if it means understanding you a little more.”

“Oh.” Now her head was overheating on top of her fluttering heart. “Well, umm, n-next time if you wanna go, just give me a signal or something. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, okay?”

“And what about your needs?” he demanded, albeit softly. “Isn’t hanging out with the locals something you need to do? We can’t prioritize my desires over yours, and we spent all day doing things I wanted to do.”

She looked into his rosewood eyes, pain and pleasure mixing wildly within her at his sincerity. “You understand that. You really do.”

With a light blush of his own, Fine sat and rubbed a hoof through his red mane. He looked better without all that black dye. “Not really. But isn’t that the whole point of us being here?”

Yes, it certainly was. And Pinkie had made a promise. Despite the lump in her throat, she decided to go for it. After all, it did seem like the perfect opening. “I used to hate my cutie mark.”

His eyebrows shot up again at this abrupt topic change. “Y-you did?” With the expression and unsteady words, he might as well have shouted ‘What brought this up?’ at the top of his lungs. Letting her mane fall flat, Pinkie glanced around swiftly before pulling him towards her room in the corner and unlocking the door. Despite his quiet objections, she pulled him inside and closed the door, making sure to lock it again. Only then, leaning against the door for support, did she let her wobbly knees falter.

Sliding to her belly, Pinkie closed her eyes and let the memories wash over her. The hunger, the loss, the cold nights, the begging. Even past that, the tossing and turning in a bed not her own and crying herself to sleep. She felt as though Rex’s claws were in her belly all over again. Would she throw up? She really didn’t want to do that, so she tried her best to hold back the tide.

Fine was kneeling at her side. When did he get there? There was fear in his round eyes. Not just fear. Panic. He didn’t understand what was happening, and she knew that ignorance scared him far more than water. So, with a final shudder, she reached out to grasp his fetlock. “I-I’m okay,” she whispered, though her voice came out strained. “I just… h-haven’t let myself think about this in a very long time.”

By his long face, he didn’t buy her explanation. Even so, he calmed down and sat, not pulling his hoof away. Nor did he speak, giving her the time she needed to recover from her own bout of emotions. She hoped he understood how much she appreciated that, even if she longed for him to tell her to stop for the night.

But he didn’t. So, when she felt brave enough, she spoke. “I know you know what it’s like to be afraid of yourself. And I know it’s a terrible, terrible feeling. But… but my cutie mark.” She cast a long look at the balloons on her flank, barely visible in the darkness. “I got my cutie mark for parties. For joy and laughter. For socializing. But after what I did, how could I ever make another friend? I didn’t want to be around anypony! I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I d-didn’t want to… to do it again…”

Three balloons became nondescript blobs as tears welled in her eyes. With nothing to focus on, she let her chin fall to the ground and closed her eyes to the world. At least Fine was still holding her hoof. Such a simple thing, but it gave her the strength she needed to keep talking, even through a raspy voice burdened by hiccups. “I didn’t know what to do. If I hung around ponies, I m-might hurt them. But my cutie mark demanded I be with ponies! How could I resist one urge while giving into the other?”

“That—” Fine cut himself off. He squeezed Pinkie’s hoof tenderly. Through her whimpers she could hear his slow, heavy breaths. “I can’t imagine that.”

Though her eyes burned and the tears streamed down her cheeks, Pinkie couldn’t conjure the energy required to do anything about it. It took what little she had to resume talking. “I th-thought about cutting it off. Just taking a knife and butchering my flanks. What’s the point of a cutie mark that makes me miserable?”

Settling on his barrel at last, Fine used his now-free hoof to stroke her mane. It had a pleasant, calming effect, and she eagerly leaned into his touch. After a few moments of silence between them, he asked, “What pulled you out of it?”

The answer came quick. “The Cakes. They don’t know it, but them being there for me… it helped far more than they may ever know.” At last rubbing her eyes, she tilted her head and turned it slightly, such that Fine’s soothing strokes started between her ears. It really did feel good. Like an itch she’d never noticed being scratched. “It took them three weeks to convince me to stay the night at their place. I didn’t sleep a minute. I was so scared that if I closed my eyes, I’d open them with blood on my hooves.

“But it didn’t happen.” She sighed at his ongoing petting, noting that she’d have to ask him to do this again sometime. “Then they learned what my cutie mark was for and encouraged me to do parties again. Every time I went, I was certain I’d end up hurting somepony. Or several.”

“And yet you never did,” Fine whispered encouragingly.

She turned her head to him, which led to the sad cessation of his ministrations, and failed to look him in the eye. She settled for his hoof atop hers, the sight of which brought the heat back to her cheeks. “No,” she admitted after a moment’s falter. “Every time I held a party, I’d come back to Sugarcube Corner and hide in my room. I had to tell myself, again and again, that it wasn’t a dream. That nopony would come looking for me to ask why I’d murdered all my guests. I wasn’t going to find blood on my hooves. I’d look in the mirror and see a perfectly normal pony, not some monster. I remember curling up in my bed and telling myself again and again, I’m not a bad pony.

“I’m not a bad pony.

“I’m not a bad pony.

“I’m not a bad pony.”

For the first time since coming upstairs, she smiled. It was a small thing, she knew, but it had the grace of being sincere. “The Cakes didn’t know what was wrong, but they never stopped supporting me. I don’t know what they’d have done if they knew the truth, but I spend every day grateful to them. Over time, the parties became a sort of therapy. A boost to my confidence. I could hold a party, and nopony died!”

Sniffing, she met his gaze at last. His solemn, gloomy gaze. “You asked, ‘why parties’? Because they were the only way to prove to myself that I wasn’t a horrible, evil pony anymore.”

Fine didn’t stare at her. His eyes were on her, but they were focused on something beyond her. His grave manner hadn’t changed at all through her explanation. “That’s a lot darker than my answer regarding hiding.”

“It’s not a competition,” she chastised him gently, another tiny smile coming to her at the opportunity to throw his words back at him.

Fine didn’t smile. He took a stronger grip on her hoof, using both of his this time, and brought his focus back on her eyes. “I think I’ll be looking at your parties in a very different light from now on.”

“They’re my little victories,” she muttered, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks at his soft gaze and the grip of his hooves. “Um, b-but you don’t have to make yourself stay there to the very end. Just because I kinda-sorta need them doesn’t mean I’ll be offended if you leave early.”

“But you need them,” he softly insisted. “And I want to be there for you.”

“And you need your solitude,” she countered with equal quiet even as her heart started using its wings again. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your needs for mine.”

He hummed. “It would seem we are at an impasse.”

“I guess so.”

They said nothing for a time, merely lay together in the dark by the door, Fine’s hold on her hoof never fading. She was starting to feel a little awkward about it, if only because she felt like she should be doing something in response to his hoof-holding. As she stared into his contemplative, handsome face, she felt an urge to nuzzle him. A friendly, ‘thank you for the support’ kind of nuzzle. Was it too early for that kind of thing? Oh, Celestia, what if he reciprocated? She might not be ready for that kind of contact!

“Tell you what.” His words distracted her from the rising temperatures in the room. “When you feel confident that one of your parties has done its job, I’ll leave. But only if I’m ready to. Sound good?”

Perhaps the darkness hid her burning face beneath her mane. Or maybe it was her pink coat. Either way, Pinkie was relieved he didn’t seem to notice. “I g-guess that’ll be okay.”

“Good.” He at last let go of her hoof, but only so he could reach up and brush her mane aside. His touch, as gentle as a shadow, lingered on her cheek as he stared into her eyes. “But if you ever feel doubt about yourself, with or without a party, come to me. Let me be there for you.”

Though the effort made her neck sore, she resisted the temptation to lean into that hoof in favor of holding his gaze. “Only if you come to me for the same.”

He raised his head, as if giving her reply some serious thought. Then he offered a soft smile that melted the feathers right off her fluttery heart. “Pinkie Promise?”

How could she not smile back? “Pinkie Promise.”

They went through the motions together, Fine blushing as he placed his hoof over his eye. “I still feel silly doing this.”

“That’s sorta the point, silly.” She giggled and lowered her hoof, half-hoping he’d take it again. He didn’t, unfortunately. “I guess this is goodnight?”

“I guess so.” He stood up, stretching as he did. Once standing straight, he looked down at her with a small frown. “We did a lot today. If you wanted to take a break tomorrow and not share anything, that’s fine by me.”

“No.” She shook her head as she sat up. “I didn’t even get to show you the farm like I said I would.”

“There’s no hurry.”

“I know.” She smiled for him, hoping to ease his fears. “But it’s like ripping off a bandage, right? We should get it over with.”

“If you’re sure.” He bowed his head, but only for a moment. “Will you be alright?”

“Mm-hmm.” She nodded, forcing her smile to be a little broader. “Don’t you worry about little ol’ me. Goodnight, Fine. And…” Her ears folded flat as she glanced away. There were words she wanted to offer, but they wouldn’t come. Because of what he might not say. Because of what he probably would say. “And… thanks for listening. It does help to open up to somepony at last.”

It wasn’t a total lie, it did feel good to finally tell somepony these secrets. It just… wasn’t what she had meant to say.

“Any time. Good night.” With one last worried smile, he ignited his horn. A dim red glow filled the room for a second, casting wild shadows on the walls, and then he was gone in a cloud of smoke that faded as quickly as it had formed.

Pinkie lingered for a moment, waiting for she knew not what. Her ears perked, but no sounds met her. This inn had some decent walls, it seemed. That or Fine hadn’t gone directly to his room. Either way, she was convinced she was alone. With a heavy sigh, she bowed her head and whispered, “Won’t you stay the night?”

She couldn’t ask him. It was too soon.

Too soon.

Filled with a compulsory need, she tiptoed to her bed, dropped to her knees, and pulled a box out from beneath. It had taken up the entirety of one of her saddle’s pouches, but she’d brought it. And now she opened it, just so that she could stare at the light blue fabric, topped by a pretty pink bow. She studied the folded dress for a seeming eternity, marveling at Rarity’s showing of skill under such short notice. Hesitantly, she felt the satiny material.

“Soon,” she whispered, but her voice was too weak.

She tried again, struggling to give herself more confidence. “Soon.”

No good. She didn’t detect any improvement at all. Slumping, she fought down the urge to cry while she closed the box with utmost care and pushed it back under the bed. Then she climbed on and buried herself beneath the covers. Curled up in darkness, head beneath the pillow, she willed herself to not imagine Fine’s gentle hoof through her mane. It was a pointless endeavor.

The word came out again, a quiet prayer in the shadows.

“Soon.”

Day 3

The chirping of birds clued Pinkie into the fact that it was morning. Grumbling, she pulled the sheets from her face and looked to the window. Still dark outside, but dawn couldn’t be far away. Climbing out of her temporary bed with all the speed and energy of a zompony on tranquilizers, she went to the window and stared at the empty streets of Rockstead.

A second night of bad dreams and little sleep. Fine had probably suspected as much yesterday morning. She’d stay in her room today until he came for her. Maybe if she worked on hiding her weariness he’d not notice. It was a simple idea. An easy idea. But Pinkie was no fool, no matter how she made herself look at times. She couldn’t hide it from him forever. He was too observant. Too studious.

Too caring.

Maybe she should take him up on his offer not to do much today. They’d been pretty active yesterday, and they couldn’t do that every day for two straight weeks. Ponies would scoff if they’d known she’d thought that. She wouldn’t have blamed them. Pinkie Pie had enough energy to do anything.

But she didn’t feel like being Pinkie Pie right now. She stared in the mirror, taking in her long mane and similarly long face. “Morning, Pinkamena.” She reached up and forced her cheek up so that she was smiling. Except to call it a smile would do the concept of smiles a severe injustice, and both Pinkie and Pinkamena took smiles very seriously. One relished them. The other hid behind them. Both considered them vital to their very existence, and thus would not tolerate that ghoulish example.

No matter. She’d just have to practice a little, get those smiling muscles working!

“Happy.” She gained a toothy, creepy grin.

“Sad.” Her lips dropped into a glower.

“Happy.

“Sad.

“Happy.

“Sad.”

She kept this up until the smile started to come naturally and appeared real. And lost it creepiness. It wasn’t quick, but it came, and Pinkie found herself once more able to grin like the party pony she was supposed to be. “That’s more like it!” She closed her eyes, ran a hoof across her face, then opened them again and winked at herself, minus the bags. “There! Now to just…”

A deep breath, a slow exhale.

Nothing happened.

After blowing a lock of dangling hair from her face, she cast a commanding look at her reflection. “Oh, I don’t think so, mane. You wanna play hardball, I’ll play hardball.” She promptly clamped her lips firmly closed, pinched her nostrils with her hooves, and blew. With the squeaky sound of a balloon, her mane vibrated and ‘popped’ into its usual curly style.

“Ahh, that’s better.” She batted her dangling lock and giggled, pleased that it sounded legitimate. Giving her reflection a determined smirk, she clapped her hooves together. “Now I’m ready to attack the day! I’m going to head out with Fine and get this over with.” She turned around, took two steps, then stopped as her stomach did a little twist. This was followed by a wobble in her front left elbow and an itch in her nose that made her sneeze.

She frowned and went through her encyclopedic knowledge of Pinkie Sense. “Hmm… Twisty-turny stomach, elbow wobble, itchy nose. Somepony’s coming to visit?” She pondered this little revelation, tapping her chin with a hoof. “Ah-ha! I bet it’s Sunflower! Who else could it be?” She pronked about the room, giggling at the prospect. “She’s probably gonna want to talk about the party! It’s gonna be so much fun with her tricks and non-magicky magic.”

Pausing to hover over the bed, she let out a gasp. “B-but I don’t know when she’s coming.” Landing in a sitting position, she looked out the window at Rockstead, which was starting to brighten under the dawning sun. “Oh, I don’t want to miss her, but I’m supposed to bring Fine to my place today.

“No, wait! I didn’t Pinkie Promise to do that, did I?

“No, but it would be good to get it over with.

“More like… not good at all.

“B-but I gotta try!

“Or I could wait for Sunflower.

“But that might take all day!

“I’ve got two weeks. It can wait.

“So can Sunflower. It’s not like I have to plan her part of the party now.

“Buck up, Pinkie! It would be rude to keep her waiting.

“But what if she’s just coming to talk to Fine?”

That one froze her thoughts. Oh, no, what if she is just coming to talk to Fine? Her lungs fought against her constricting throat as she imagined the two of them sitting in a corner of the inn’s dining room, alone, heads close as they whispered naughty little teases at one another.

She shook her head hard and tried to make herself smile. “No, no, that’s just silly. Fine wouldn’t do anything like that.” Climbing off the bed once more, she gave herself a confident smile in the mirror of the vanity. “The whole reason I’m here is because I want to win Fine over, and I’m already pretty far in that goal! I mean, he agreed to come in the first place, didn’t he? He wouldn’t come all this way just to be swept off his hooves by another mare.” Who was pretty and entertaining and had lots more yellow in her.

“Stop that!” She knocked herself on the head a few times and glared at her reflection. “All you have to do is show Fine the truth. She’s not here to steal Fine away!” She held her own eyes, fierce and determined to instill herself with all the confidence she could muster. She would not doubt. She would not doubt. She would not doubt!

She yelped and clutched at her tail at the knock on her door.

“Pinkie? Are you okay in there?”

Fine Crime. “Y-yeah, of course!” She tried to laugh off her anxiety, quickly releasing her tail. “Just a minute.” She looked herself over one more time in the mirror. Bags hidden? Mane curlier than any mane had a right to be? Smile as real as Celestia’s cake addiction? Eyes as sparkly as the stars in Luna’s mane?

That last one wasn’t quite as accurate as she’d have liked, but maybe Fine wouldn’t notice. Everything else was okay, after all. With no time left to deal with it, she hurried to the door and opened it, making sure her best smile was in place as she did. “Morning, Fine! Sleep well?”

Fine’s eyes roamed over her, travelling from hoof to eyes in about a second. There was the barest hint of concern in him as he answered. “As well as can be expected in a new bed. How about you?”

Was there something different in how he asked the question? He knows! No, no, he doesn’t know a thing, and I’m gonna keep it that way. “I slept great! Yesterday really tuckered me out.”

He glanced towards her bed. The concern hadn’t faded. “I see.”

Distraction! Come on, Pinkamena, think of something!

Her Pinkie Sense chose that opportunity to remind her that it had near perfect, if wholly mystifying, timing. The twisty-turny stomach, elbow wobble, and itchy nose combo came back, complete with sneeze. That might get annoying before long.

Fine’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Please tell me that doesn’t mean we’re about to get caught in some crazy adventure.”

Giggling, Pinkie allowed herself to relax. Distraction achieved! “No, but it does pose a itty bitty problem. That combo means somepony’s gonna visit us!”

“A visitor?” Fine cocked his head, ears folding back as he considered this revelation. It took him no time at all to form a conclusion that brought a fresh smile to his face. “Sunflower?”

She nodded, her mane flapping about while a rattling sound came from… somewhere. “I think so! I mean, I can’t say for absolut-a-positivi-sure, but who else could it be?”

“You’re guess is as good as mine, and I choose to guess Sunflower until proven otherwise.” He stepped aside and gestured invitingly. “Want to go get some breakfast? Mr. Collate intended to be here bright and early to make us something.”

“That sounds really nice of him.” Following him out and closing the door, Pinkie asked, “What’s the occasion?”

Fine chuckled and waved a hoof at her as if in demonstration. “You being really good for business, apparently. There’s nothing like Pinkie Pie to bring good cheer and draw in the ponies.”

“Aww, shucks, it was nothin’,” she said, rubbing a hoof against her chest.

As they approached the stairs, Fine asked, “So how does Sunflower coming over to visit pose a problem for us?”

Oh, right. Her. “W-well, it’s not a ‘big’ problem. It’s just that I only know she’s coming. I don’t know when.” She tried to convey her apologies through her expression as they descended the stairs. “If we head out, we might miss her. But if we don’t head out, I won’t get to, um… y’know.” She glanced away, ears folding flat against her skull. “Show you anything.”

Fine wrapped a hoof about her shoulder and gave her a squeeze, stopping them on the bottom step. “Don’t worry about that. We’ve got two weeks. That’s plenty of time to get things off our chests.”

Their flanks were touching. The unexpected contact sent blood rushing to her cheeks, but that was the least of her concerns right now. She took a slow, shaky breath and tried to imprint the feeling of his arm around her shoulder in her mind. It was such a strangely simple gesture. But it was Fine Crime doing it, and that made it seem different somehow.

“Pinkie?” The concern returned to his eyes as he met her gaze. “You alright?”

“I’m fine, it’s just…” She reached up to touch his hoof, a light smile forming on her lips. “I don’t think you’d have done this a year ago.”

His leg was off her in an instant. He backed away, face brighter than the dawning sun and eyes wide. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… uh…” He turned away sharply, tail flicking. “D-did I overstep?”

It was almost certainly the wrong thing to do, and she did feel a bit guilty for it, but she couldn’t resist a giggle at his expense. Trotting up to him, she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder with a pleasant hum. “You didn’t do anything wrong, silly. If a leg around the shoulder is a crime, I’ve got a few lifetime sentences to serve.”

Oh, that made it sound like the contact had been merely friendly! And maybe it was, but she didn’t want it to be where he was involved. She desired a lot more out of him than friendly hugs!

“Right.” He gave a weak, nervous laugh. “Sorry. I j-just don’t know the boundaries yet, y’know?”

There are no boundaries, handsome. Pushing that dirty little thought aside and making what she considered a valiant effort not to blush for it, Pinkie patted him on the head playfully. “Don’t worry, these things take practice. It’ll be a long time before you’re the Master Friend Pony I am.”

His laugh was far more genuine this time. He stepped away and used his magic to put his mane back in place. “I don’t think there’s a pony in Equestria who could get to your level of ‘Friendship Mastery’.”

“Aww, flatterer.” She batted her eyes at him before bursting into giggles. “This is a good thing, though! You’re getting better at the whole ‘touchy feely’ thing. Soon enough we’ll have you dancing on the streets and singing in the rain!”

His expression faltered into uncertainty. “Uh, yeah, I don’t think so. You know I can’t sing, Pinkie.”

The admission made her falter in her step, but she recovered quickly. That’s right. She knew that. It was one of the major things she wanted to talk about with him, because it was just so sad. “W-well, I dunno, maybe you just haven’t found the right song?”

His lips became a thin line and he abruptly started studying the corner of the room. “I…”

“Ah, you’re awake.” Mr. Collate stepped through the doors from the kitchen, all smiles. “How’s my best guests in the history of ever doing?”

Pinkie didn’t know why she so readily (and literally) jumped for the distraction, but didn’t let herself lose any momentum. “Awake, happy, and hungry, in that order!” She landed next to the inn’s owner and bent her body sideways, bumping his shoulder with the top of her head and flashing her most charming, hopeful smile. “And I hear somepony’s got some yummy breakfast goodies for us?”

Mr. Collate hesitated for only a moment at her manner before regaining his smile. “Not yet, but soon! You ponies ever had a Rockstead Stack?”

Other, more ignorant ponies would have referred to Pinkie’s gasp as ‘exaggerated’, but she knew that it was the perfect length and volume to adequately describe the way his words had given her heart palpitations. She raised her hoof high and declared, “I have, and I want!”

He chuckled and nodded before turning back for the kitchen. “Then find yourselves a seat and give me ten minutes. You two are my official taste testers while you’re here.”

Pinkie bounced from the floor to the nearest table, which happened to be one next to a wide window with a perfect view of the street outside. “You got it! We’ll be waiting right here for our delicious breakfast, Mr. Collate!” She felt as if she might die from eagerness, her every molecule vibrating with the desire to have the nostalgic treat.

Fine settled perpendicular to her, appearing both amused and worried in tandem. “You’re sure excited about a, uh, 'stack'.”

Taking on a sly look, she leaned over and poked his shoulder “Come on, Fine. I thought you knew things. Aren’t you supposed to be a super smart writer pony?”

He shot her a mock pout and declared with flaunted disdain, “My smarts may be a fact, but even I don’t get this ‘stack’.”

So he wanted to play the Zecora game, did he? She huffed and swept her hoof about them as if to put the whole dining room on display. “In Rockstead is where we be! Surely that will help you see?”

He raised an eyebrow, barely keeping his lips from quirking upwards. “This location provides no information for the education of this learned patron.”

She blinked. Woah, he’s good. “Uh, well, let me give you a clue: what do Rockstead ponies do?” That didn’t sound half as good out loud as it had in her head.

He didn’t miss a beat. “Mine and find gems so divine they shine.”

Was she sweating? Her brain worked overtime for a counter. “That answer is such a crock, they seek not gems but only rocks!” Hah, good one, Pinkamena!

“Rocks are their stock, shiny or mock, but that doesn’t unlock the tick in my tock.” He finished by tapping the side of his head.

Goddess, he made it sound so easy! If only he didn’t look so handsome when smug. No, stay in the game! “Think of formations to, uh… h-help in this situation?”

“Such a dictation may aid my station in this narration of my vexation regarding mentation in—”

“Pancakes!” She threw up her hooves in defeat. “A stack is a type of rock formation and a pile of pancakes is a stack, so a Rockstead Stack is a pile of pancakes!” She dropped her chin to the table, panting and limp, and let her tongue loll out.

“Aw, nuts.” Fine smirked and shook his head. “And I was on a roll.”

Gulping one last, long breath, she sat up straight once more. “Where in the wide world did you learn to rhyme like that?”

He brushed his mane back in a playful, flippant manner. “One of the perks of living so close to Zecora is that I get to engage her in rhyme battles for practice on a regular basis.” His smile faded as he added ominously, “She’s a tough opponent.”

Yes, Pinkie could see how that would develop a pony’s rhyming skills. She wondered at just how large a vocabulary Fine was secretly sporting. “Wait, you visit Zecora regularly?”

“Yep.” At her nonplussed look, he frowned. “What? You’re not my only friend. I had to work closely with her when we were trying to figure out where to put my house in the Everfree, and we're practically next-door neighbors.”

She flinched, feeling guilty even though he’d misconstrued her reaction. “Sorry. I just had no idea you and Zecora were buddies.” Then that thought clicked in her head, and her lips parted in a toothy grin so wide she felt her cheeks ache. “You and Zecora are buddies! Fine, that’s amazing. You’re making friends all on your own!”

A fire erupting in his cheeks, he glanced away and rubbed his neck. “It’s not that big of a deal. Is it?”

She leaned over to give him a one-legged squeeze. “Of course it’s a big deal, silly. Friends are no small matter, and I was worried you were having trouble making them. My little colt is coming into his own.” She sat back in her cushion and pressed her hooves to her cheeks. “Oh, I’m so proud.”

“I get it, I get it.” He tried to look serious, but the pink in his cheeks refused to go away. Averting his eyes from her ongoing grin, he asked, “So what makes these ‘Rockstead Stacks’ so special, anyway?”

“They’re layered with boiled tuffscadines, of course.”

Fine’s eyes crossed, making her giggle. “What’s a tuffscadine?”

It was Mr. Collate, just arriving from the kitchens, who answered. “They’re like muscadines, only they grow best in dry places.” He brought with him a pair of plates loaded with quadruple stacks of pancakes covered in a yellow syrup, the sight of which had Pinkie bouncing in her seat. As he set them down before his two customers, he added, “It takes about two hours to boil them to a proper tenderness with the skin still on, but they make an amazing jelly or syrup when you do.”

Pinkie already had a large portion of pancake in her mouth, the sugar and tart mixing together to make a veritable explosion of flavor in her mouth. She sat back, eyes on the ceiling and grinning. “Nd dey tst shoooo gud.” Not as good as her Granny Pie’s, but close enough.

Granny…

She shoved the memory away before it could properly form, attacking it with an extra application of pancake to the oral cavity. There’d be another time for… her. She took note of Fine, who maintained a suspicious expression as he carefully cut a slice of pancake away with his fork and knife and levitated the piece to his mouth. Mr. Collate and Pinkie watched in combined silence as he slowly, cautiously deposited the slice of syrup-coated dough between his lips.

His eyes widened, then narrowed, then widened again. His lips puckered out for a moment as he flinched, but then he rolled his jaw, clearly trying to get as much of the new taste as he could. Pinkie and Mr. Collate leaned forward in quiet expectation, Pinkie while adding another bite to her eager maw. Fine tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling, still working his jaw and making thoughtful hums. At long last, he swallowed.

“That has got to be strangest combination of sour and sweet I’ve ever had.” After a moment’s consideration, which he filled by eyeing the pancakes as one would an unfamiliar plant that might be poisonous, he allowed himself another, smaller bite. After devoting far less time sampling the flavor, he swallowed and declared, “I think I like it.”

“Hah!” Mr. Collate pumped his hoof. “Score one for the Rock Bottom! Now I’ve got a signature breakfast item to go with my new breakfast menu.”

Pinkie’s ears perked at this. Taking a moment to wipe her mouth free of syrupy yellow goodness, she asked, “You mean you’re gonna open the dining room for breakfast from now on?”

“Not yet, but soon.” He rubbed his hooves together, eyes taking on a gleam of devilish glee. “I’ve been wanting to open earlier for over a year now, and all the extra business lately will finally make it feasible.”

Fine raised an eyebrow. “But isn’t all that new business going to die down once REGAL leaves?”

“It was never about the demand,” Mr. Collate replied, his proud gaze drifting over the dining room. “Just about financing. Don’t worry, Mr. Crime—” he missed Fine’s flinch entirely “—I can make it work.”

“Don’t worry, Petri, we believe in you,” Pinkie cheered. It was true for her part. At least Fine held his skepticism in.

“I appreciate that.” Mr. Collate nodded to them and gestured to their plates. “And this is on the house. Your unsolicited stunt yesterday earned me near-record sales last night, so it’s the least I can do.”

Fine appeared ready to argue, but Pinkie beat him to the punch. “Aww, thanks, Petri, you ol’ softy, you.”

Petri merely chuckled and went back to the kitchens, humming a jaunty tune as he did.

“If he knew how much I made in just a week, he’d have never made the offer,” Fine said before going back to work on his Rockstead Stack. “I feel guilty accepting his generosity.”

“And that’s why you have me around,” Pinkie informed him, already more than halfway done with hers. “You don’t reject somepony’s generous offer, Fine. It’s rude.”

“Even when you really don’t need it?”

Raising one eyebrow, then the other, she pointed at him and declared in a semi-lecturing tone, “You need lessons from Rarity.”

“I just don’t think—”

“Why can’t you sing?”

He paused, a slice of syrup-lathered pancake hanging before him and threatening to drop its sticky coating on the table. “Whowanow?”

“Singing. You know, like ponies do.” Pinkie took the time to lick her plate clean of tuffscadine juices, then sat back and gave a demure belch. “Equines are natural musicians. Everypony can sing. Even if they don’t have amazing voices, they find ways to make it work. So it doesn’t make any sense that you can’t sing.” She giggled before adding, “I should know, I heard Cranky croon for Matilda once.”

Fine’s face twisted into an expression perfectly combining disgust and disbelief. “Cranky?”

She nodded solemnly in return. “Cranky.”

His ears flicked, and for a while he focused on eating. She suspected he was trying to justify the idea of Cranky Doodle singing… well, anything. It had been kinda sweet, in truth. Mr. Collate came out with some glasses of apple juice (“Straight from Sweet Apple Acres, this stuff! You’ll never drink better apple juice in your life.”) and returned to the kitchen whilst Fine ruminated.

At last, after finishing two thirds of his Rockstead Stack, he pushed the plate away and said, “I don’t know. All my life, song has eluded me. I just figured I couldn’t do it.”

“Pish-posh,” she countered primly, tilting her head with each syllable. “All of Equestria’s four-legged friends can sing. I guarantee it! You can’t tell me you’re the only pony under the Sun and Moon who can’t, that…” She frowned as the idea took root in her mind. It seemed so… sad. “That would be horrible.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that bad.”

Those four simple words were like a splash of ice cold water to the face. She went limp, ears folding back and jaw falling loose. “Not that bad? Not that bad? How could you possibly think that?”

Scowling, Fine turned his face away and muttered, “I don’t see what the big deal is. What’s so great about singing?”

“You say that because you haven’t done it.” She snatched his abandoned plate and downed the pancake he’d not eaten, then drank all her apple juice in one go. Slamming it to the table, she declared. “This won’t do, so I’m gonna do something about it! Get your vocal cords flexed, Fine, ‘cause I’m gonna teach you to sing.”

“Nope!” He was on his hooves and headed for the door. “I’m taking a walk. You get that out of your system and then maybe I’ll—”

The world blurred, and Pinkie was between him and the door. She grinned and bounced to the left, preventing him from going around, then giggled and hopped to the right. “No escape, pal! I’m not gonna let you be the tuneless wonder forever.”

Fine stepped back, shot her a deadpan look, then ignited his horn. Dark clouds began to form around him.

“Sunflower’s coming today.”

The smoke faded, and Fine was gone. Pinkie sat and began counting out loud, smirking all the while. “One, and a two, and a…” She pointed at the spot where Fine had disappeared just in time for the smoke to come back, rising up from the floor in what some might have thought an ominous display.

When they parted, Fine stood glowering at her. “I’m supposed to be the sneaky one.”

Chuckling, she leaned towards him with an amused, “Sooooo?”

“No.” The finality in his tone startled her, but not as much as the hardness of his eyes. “I’m not going to humiliate myself like that.”

“Aww, come on.” She gestured around the dining room. “There’s nopony here to judge. If it really bugs you, we can head up to one of our rooms and do it. How does that sound?”

“No.” If anything, his expression had become harder.

It was enough to make Pinkie realize that his seriousness wasn’t an act after all. She sat up straight, lip trembling as it dawned upon her that Fine truly didn’t want to know the joy of music. She couldn’t understand it. The very concept of his position was just so… so alien. And sad. So very sad. So sad it seemed something was trying to twist her little heart into knots. She tucked her tail around her flank and whispered, “No?”

At her reaction, Fine lost his grim countenance and heaved a long, slow sigh. “I appreciate you mean well, Pinkie, but no. It’s just not in me to do it. I accepted that long ago. And I’m not going to pretend to be somepony I’m not by trying. Not even for those pretty blue eyes.”

His offhoof comment eased the pain a fraction. Pinkie still wished he’d give singing a try, but now she knew better than to press him. Fine had his limits, and it was clear this was one of them. She couldn’t imagine how joyless his life must be without song, but if that was his position…

She shook her head. No, she wouldn’t accept it! If he couldn’t know the pleasure of singing, she’d just have to make sure he was happy with everything else in his life. “Alright, buster,” she said at last, setting her hooves to her hips and glaring at him. “Then we’ll find some other way to make you smile. I won’t accept anything less.”

To this he merely raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Come on, Pinkie. I’ve got you in my life. That’s plenty enough reason to smile.”

Just like that, the grip on her heart disappeared, allowing it to happily flutter about her ribcage. Cheeks burning, she glanced away with a forced chuckle. “You’re j-just trying to butter me up so I won’t be mad about this.”

“Hmm… maybe.” He turned away and glanced about the dining room. She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or grateful for being released from his pleasant, rosewood eyes. “Alright, so Sunflower’s coming. I guess we aren’t going anywhere for a while. Unless Pinkie Sense is telling you otherwise?”

With predictably perfect timing, the twisty-turny stomach, elbow wobble, itchy nose combo came back with a vengeance. At least she didn't sneeze this time. Waiting until it ended, she said, “Nope, still on her way.”

“Right.” He plopped his flank to the floor. “So what are we gonna do in the meantime?”

Pinkie’s instinct screamed at her to say something relating to games, or music, or party planning, or party planning while playing games and listening to music. But she also saw this for the opportunity it was, so she shoved all those ideas down and approached, settling down a couple steps at his side. “We could always tell stories.” At his curious look, she added, “Simple stories. Low-baggage ones. To get to know one another better?”

“Ah.” He nodded, smiling warmly. “Light ones. Sounds good. Why don’t we take it upstairs so we’re not in the way when the place opens?”

They headed for the stairs side-by-side. Pinkie considered stepping closer, but resisted the urge. It might be too soon for that. She didn’t want to appear needy or overeager, after all. The memory of when he’d hugged her earlier made it a little harder to resist, but she tried to keep her heart fluttering by recalling his little compliment about her eyes.

“So,” he said as they reached the second floor, “You want to go first, or should I?”

Shaking herself from her romantic thoughts, she tried to keep her response as casual as possible. “I’ll go. It’s my turn, after all. Did I ever tell you about the first time I foalsat the Cake Twins?”

Fine grinned at Pinkie’s antics, watching as she kicked her hooves at the air and laughed uproariously. “I can’t believe you got Fleur to foalsit as cover! How in Equestria did you convince her to do that?”

“Oh, that was easy,” he replied, rubbing a hoof against his chest as he did. “I just told her the father was a target and he had a ‘thing’ for foalsitters. She fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”

Unable to stop her giggles, she managed to wheeze out, “Oh, I… b-bet she… was driven crazy!”

He nodded, smirking at the memory of Fleur’s scowling face when she’d returned from that little mission. “She wouldn’t speak to me for a week after that. I knew she wasn’t fond of little foals, but until then I’d no idea just how bad she was with them! Honestly, I don’t know how she got through the week without committing infanticide.”

Pinkie, at last regaining control of her laughter, asked, “Ah, but did she finish the mission?”

“To her credit.” He sat back against the bed frame and stared out at the forest through the window of Pinkie’s hotel room. “Got the information she needed, and I even heard she did a decent job as a foalsitter. Although, honestly? I suspect she might have doctored those reports to hide the truth. She always was sensitive about her image.”

They fell silent, save for Pinkie’s occasional giggles. Fine sat at the foot of Pinkie’s bed, staring at the forest, while Pinkie lay on the bed itself and watched the ponies go by on the street below. They’d been up there for hours sharing little stories, most of them silly and inconsequential. At least a third of Fine’s stories had related to Fleur de Lis and the ongoing, back-and-forth war they waged for fun. He’d had no problem telling Pinkie about his apprentice and chosen heir. He knew she could keep a secret better than anypony, especially important ones like those relating to the Archons.

Pinkie’s stories had been wide-ranging, mostly involving her own little antics with her friends. Rainbow Dash and Rarity were her favorite topics for this, it seemed, if only because their reactions to her pranking were the best for entirely different reasons.

But it seemed that they’d at last run out of steam. Fine didn’t mind. He was perfectly content to sit there and enjoy her quiet company. They did that sometimes. Pinkie, for all her energy and playfulness, always seemed to know when it was time to relax and say nothing. How she knew this, he couldn’t imagine. Just being Pinkie Pie, he supposed.

After a few long minutes of quiet between them, Pinkie finally spoke up. “How did you meet Fleur?”

Had he not told her that? No, he supposed not. It shouldn’t be a big issue, but now that she mentioned it… it really was a personal matter, wasn’t it? Not that he minded telling her. The topic simply hadn’t come up. A lot of things about Fleur tended not to come up.

How curious.

“I met her during the Dragon War.” He’d tried to keep his tone conversational, but Pinkie must have detected something he hadn’t. He could hear her shifting on the bed. Was there something about this topic that worried her?

“You don’t talk much about the war.” She approached these subjects cautiously, as a pony might approach a slumbering manticore. “Was it… bad?”

“Bad?” He turned his head to glance at her out the corner of his eye, but her face was hidden from him by her mane. Long and straight. That meant something, surely. “I guess that depends. In a general sense, yeah, it was bad. A lot of ponies died.” He brought his stare back to the forest, the many limbs that shifted in the breeze. “But for me? It was dangerous, sure, but not… ‘bad.’ Fleur had it far worse than I did.”

Pinkie hesitantly asked, “How so?”

How much to reveal? Not much, he realized. “I’m afraid you’ll have to ask Fleur for the full story. There are certain private matters involved, and I think it would be improper of me to tell that tale in her place.”

“Oh. I’m sorry—”

“But,” he interrupted before she could jump too far into her conclusions, “I can tell you that she was a filly, barely a teenager, when the dragons attacked Mirar el Cielo. There were only two survivors. She was one of them.”

Pinkie was silent for a time. He wondered what was going through her head now that he’d revealed such information. Was she horrified? Confused? Curious? Or perhaps it was just information, something too far removed for her to attach herself to emotionally. Looking back, she’d have been… eleven? Perhaps. Probably old enough to remember the Longest Day.

“She was only a child?”

The question was so soft, so full of emotion, that it drove him to roll around and look at her properly. Pinkie’s face remained hidden, though. “Yes,” he whispered, keeping his gaze locked on her mane. “I first met her at Estéril Pezuñas. I wasn’t the Mane Archon back then. I’d been put on special assignment to determine the dragons’ motivations. I met Fleur when I snuck into her room and interrogated her about the attack.”

At last, Pinkie turned her head towards him. It wasn’t much, just enough that she could look at him with one eye through her bangs. Through that blue eye he saw a bevy of emotions, conflicting and heavy. Concern, it seemed, was chief among them. “Is that when she became your apprentice?”

“Oh, no. Not for a while later.” He smiled at a memory from that time which had never grown old. “But she wanted to be. She was so insistent that I couldn’t seem to get rid of her. Followed me all the way out into the Burning Lands and into a Changeling nest.”

Pursing her lips, Pinkie toyed with a fold of the quilt on her bed. “Why was she so determined?”

He opened his mouth, but then thought better of it. He’d already said he couldn’t reveal everything, and this felt like more private territory. After taking a moment to consider how Fleur might react, he finally replied, “She had her reasons. Suffice to say they were good enough, and her will strong enough, that I couldn’t bring myself to abandon her. We’ve had one another’s backs ever since.”

Pinkie gave a quiet hum, her hooves wringing the quilt as her tail flicked a couple times. “So, is she… I mean, you two must be close, and…”

What was with this curious behavior? “As close as can be expected, given the circumstances.” He chuckled and went back to his seated position, watching the trees once more. “Don’t tell her I said so, but I see her as a little sister. Then again, go ahead and tell her. She’s so cute when flustered.”

Her giggles rang through the room, a little louder than normal. He thought he detected… relief? “Maybe I’ll do that.”

Things got quiet again after that, and Fine contented himself with watching the shimmering leaves outside. He idly wondered if Sunflower would be coming by soon. Should they be downstairs to meet her, or would Mr. Collate just send her to their rooms? He wasn’t sure he cared for either. These quiet moments with Pinkie were far more relaxing than he would have expected.

“Who was the other one?”

Jarred from his thoughts, he tilted his head back. “The other what?”

“Survivor.” Pinkie scooted a little closer so she could look down at him from overhead. “At Mirar el Cielo.”

“Oh. Sir Fancy Pants.”

A blink. Another. “Really?”

She settled back on the bed, eyes focusing on nothing as she took this in. “I never would have guessed. Does Rarity know?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. He’s not fond of talking about the war.” He tapped his chin as he recalled all he knew of the stallion in their brief encounters. His best memories came from the attack on Estéril Pezuñas, of course. “It’s a shame. He really is quite the heroic fellow. He shouldn’t be so modest.”

“Hmm. So what did you do during the war?”

“Oh, nothing much.” He grinned as his mind cast back to the war once again. “Rescued Celestia. And my boss, whom I never let live it down. Infiltrated a changeling nest, rescued some dragon eggs, befriended Parjin the Elder. And there was that whole ‘killed the massive dragon that had fought Celestia to a standstill’ thing, but really, who cares about that bit?”

If an eye roll could be given voice, it would have matched the tone of her dry, “I’ve seen the skull in your basement, y’know.”

“Hey.” He craned his neck back until he could see her face. He took on a mock-lecturing manner as he said, “You’re talking to a bona fide dragonslayer, here. I think that calls for some respect.”

To his surprise, she actually looked repentant. “I’m sorry, you’re right. That must have been a horrible experience, fighting a dragon.”

“Whoa, whoa, hey.” He rolled to face her properly, reaching out to touch her hoof. “It was only… I mean, yeah, it was a pretty tough ordeal. I barely made it out alive. But it’s not like it hurts to talk about it or anything.” When she didn’t immediately cheer up, he tilted his head closer, trying to look her in the eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Biting her lip, Pinkie brought her eyes up to his. “I don’t know. It’s just… you’ve done so much. You’re still doing so much. I know you can’t tell me everything you’ve done as an Archon, but I understand it’s a lot. You guys are, like, the unsung heroes of Equestria.”

Cocking his head, he couldn’t resist pointing out, “You’ve done a lot, too. Does Nightmare Moon ring any bells? And let’s not forget how much you sacrificed going up against Rex like you did.”

With a whimper, she tucked her forelegs under her barrel. Perhaps she was feeling her scars? There was a flash of – fear? – in her eyes, but only for a moment. “I’m not denying that. I just… I don’t feel like I’ve given you enough respect for your achievements.”

Fine’s mind scrambled for some kind of answer. This obviously bothered her, and he wanted to help, but… he didn’t really get it. “That’s normally a good thing,” he said, fishing for some kind of direction to take this. “Most don’t even know the Archons exist. We don’t do it for the admiration of the common pony.”

She grasped his hoof, her eyes imploring. “But I don’t want to be your ‘common pony’. I want to be your pony. And not fully appreciating everything you’ve done makes me feel…” She glanced away, ears folding back. “Inadequate.”

What happened next was beyond Fine’s ability to fathom. His heart had begun pounding, a fierce staccato rhythm that left him feeling strangely breathless. His cheeks felt on fire and his eyes were glued to hers, and for the first time he came to truly understand what writers meant when they referred to ‘falling into her eyes’. “Y-you…” He swallowed, for his throat had become dry all of a sudden. “You’re not—”

He flinched to the sound of knocking, and the atmosphere shattered. They pulled away from one another, Pinkie’s head bowing as she went ramrod straight. Fine stared at her, wishing he could get that feeling back. It had been so brief, so fleeting he’d not gotten a chance to really grasp it! And he wanted to grasp it. Hold it before it got away! If he could only—

Another knock stopped him from approaching. Heaving a sigh, he went to the door and tried not to be angry at whoever this interloper was. “Yes?” He was mildly pleased that he’d avoided growling the word out.

“Fine Crime? Pinkie Pie?”

“Sunflower!” Pinkie was at the door in an instant, her mane a mess of curls once more. Fine stumbled back, thrown entirely off guard by her instantaneous shift in behavior. She flung the door open and pounced on their visitor, embracing her in a hug that made her eyes bug out. “I knew you’d be coming, my Pinkie Sense is never wrong!”

How did she do that? Just go from one extreme to the next in a heartbeat?

“That’s… nice… Pinkie…” Sunflower squirmed, her cheeks gradually going more and more blue. “I… wanted… P-Pinkie… breathe…”

Pinkie only squeezed tighter, and Fine couldn’t help wondering if this wasn’t some subtle act of revenge on Pinkie’s part. At last, she let loose, and her ‘victim’ collapsed to the floor with a gasp. Pinkie bounced in place, somehow knowing exactly how to lower her head to not bang it on the top of the doorframe. “It’s so good to see you, Sunny! When I got my twisty-turny stomach, elbow wobble, and itchy nose combo I just knew it had to be you coming and I’ve been excited all day because I’m really looking forward to seeing what kind of tricks you wanna do for the party which is going to be super-de-duper fun and even more super-de-duper fun now but with a lot more ‘de’s in there because we’re gonna have a cool magician pony who doesn’t talk in the third pony which is kinda sad because you were originally going to be her but then that was deemed too easy and it didn’t fit with the timeline anyway so we got you instead and that might disappoint some fans but I think it’s great because it means I get to make a whole new friend who is good with non-magicky magic and can do cool tricks and make ponies happy and I’m just sooooo excited right now I think I might explode!”

Fine offered Sunflower a hoof, unable to keep from grinning. “Did you get all that?”

“Not even close.” Accepting his hoof, she stood and took one last, recovering breath. “Is she always this excited to meet new ponies?”

How could he answer with anything but an emphatic “Yes!” He glanced at the beaming Pinkie and added, “Or planning parties. Lucky for you, today she’s gonna be doing both, so you’ll get the Sweet & Elite version.”

Sunflower blinked. “The what now?”

“Inside joke.” He leaned closer with a hoof raised as if to hide his lips and said in a faux-whisper, “If she ever asks for a drink called the Sweet & Elite, for the love of Luna do not let her have it.”

“Hey!” Pinkie pushed him aside and poked his chest with the tip of her hoof, expression a mockery of sternness. “I do not have a sugar problem, bucko! I can manage my doses just fine. Usually. Sometimes.” Her eyes promptly lit up and her tail began to wag at a blurring pace. “D-do you think we could teach Mr. Collate how to make one?”

“No!”

“Aww…”

“You two are so cute together.” Sunflower giggled at what Fine was sure was their matching blushes. “So, business before pleasure. Pinkie, you wanna head downstairs and talk about how this is gonna go?”

“Abso-positivi-lutely! Come on, let’s—”

“Ah!” Sunflower thrust her hoof forward, pressing it against Pinkie’s lips with wide eyes. Pinkie kept trying to talk through her hoof for about thirty seconds before finally acquiring a questioning look.

“Sorry.” Sunflower pulled her hoof back with an awkward smile. “I was kind afraid you’d go on another rant. Plus, I kinda had something to say to Fine.”

“Oh, no problem.” Was there a hint of hesitation there? Fine watched Pinkie bounce her way into the hallway, again somehow managing to avoid cracking her skull on the door frame. “I’ll just head downstairs and set us up a table for planning. See you in a minute!”

Fine raised his hoof halfway, prepared to tell her she didn’t have to go, but she was already gone. Pouting, he set his hoof back down and sighed.

Noting his disappointment, Sunflower offered a quiet, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I guess.” He just wished he knew what that bout of hesitation had been, assuming he hadn’t been imagining things. Shaking the stray thoughts from his skull, he gave her his full attention. “So what did you want to say?”

“Ask, actually.” Sunflower shifted from hoof to hoof, her eyes landing on anything in the room that wasn’t him. “Th-this may be a personal thing. Or pr-private. Wait, those are the same… nevermind.”

Fine chuckled at her antics. “Is it really that bad? Just ask. I promise not to get mad or anything, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

“No. I mean yes! I… I don’t know what I mean.” Dropping heavily to her haunches, she began rubbing her hooves together. “Look, you used to be a… well, not a bad pony, I guess, with what you did for me, but not a good pony, either? And I was really happy to see you again, n-not that I’m not now! But I just, how we met and… and what you did and it was really scary and—” She paused, forced herself to take a deep breath, started over. “You said you don’t do that anymore. And I want to believe you, but—”

“But you’re afraid I just said that to make you more comfortable, is that it?”

She shrank back, ears going flat against her skull. “I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you or anything! I just don’t…”

Fine raised his hoof, the motion silencing her before she could go into another rambling attempt at explaining herself. He offered the warmest smile he could. “It’s okay, Sunflower. I get it. And you have every right to be afraid. So what would it take for me to convince you we’re perfectly sane and not going to go around slaughtering the party guests?”

If anything, Sunflower seemed to shrink back even more. “A letter from the princesses would do it.”

It had been practically a whisper, and he was sure he wasn’t meant to hear it. Obviously, she meant that he couldn’t convince her, but he only nodded. “That can be arranged. I did bring my potion for contacting Luna, just in case of emergencies.”

She stared at him for a moment, and he was sure he could see the gears in her skull locking up. But then they started again, and she slapped a hoof over her muzzle. “Oh. My. Celestia! You were not supposed to hear that! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, stop.” He waved away her apologies with a grin. “I’m being serious. I work directly for Princess Luna. And Pinkie doesn’t work for Celestia directly, but they do know one another.”

Sunflower leaned forward to peer at him, shifting her head to study him from various angles. More than used to this kind of treatment, Fine waited with a patient smile until she’d completed her thorough inspection. At last she sat back, face scrunched up in uncertainty, and asked, “You’re not pulling my horn… are you?”

“Don’t ask Pinkie that, she might actually pull on it.” He chuckled at her wince. “But I can prove it, and very easily. All I have to do is ask Luna to visit you in your dreams tonight.”

If her eyes grew any bigger they might roll out of their sockets. “You can do that?”

Fine resisted the urge to look smug, no matter how much he wanted to. With how she was reacting to things right now, she might think he was being insincere. No, best to play things straight around Sunflower for now. “Sure. All she needs is your name and general location. So?”

He stared at her. She stared right back. “So?”

After making a rolling motion with his hoof, he asked. “Would you like to meet her?”

“Oh, no!” She shook her head frantically. “I wouldn’t want to impose!”

It sounded like she believed him. Then again, she could just be saying it for fear of what might happen otherwise. And that, he realized, settled the matter. Whether she wanted it or not, she was getting a visit from Luna soon. In all likelihood she would forgive him once the matter was ended. And besides, he suspected Luna would be quite eager to meet a pony from his distant past.

“Well, for now all I can do is give you my reassurance that Pinkie and I are free of any murderous desires.” Should he mention that a big part of why they were here was for Pinkie to overcome her lingering guilt? No, too private. If Pinkie wanted that information known, she’d mention it herself.

But judging from Sunflower’s fidgeting, she wasn’t consoled. He sighed and raised her chin with his magic, making her look him in the eyes. “Sometime in the next few days, come by and we’ll address this properly, alright? I don’t want that little filly I helped so long ago to be afraid of me. That would…” He hesitated, realizing he might be revealing too much. “It meant something to me, that time. I don’t think I’d be where I am today without what happened between us. So please, Sunflower. Give us a chance.”

Releasing her chin, he stepped back to give her some space. Then, with a warm smile, “I promise you won’t regret it.”

Sunflower didn’t look away again. She studied him, eyes inquisitive and uncertain. At last, she nodded. “Alright. You gave me a second chance at life. I should extend you the same courtesy.” She smiled bashfully and kicked at the floorboards. “And so you know, I’m not afraid of you. At least, not for myself. What you did means a lot to me, too. I just worry for others, y’know?”

“That’s perfectly reasonable and I greatly appreciate it. Now.” He gestured for the door. “I’d say you’ve got twenty seconds to get down there before Pinkie forgets she’s supposed to be waiting for us and comes up to make us talk faster.”

With a giggle, Sunflower turned to leave. “You’re right, she seems the type.” Once in the hallway, she noticed he’d not followed. “Are you coming?”

“In a minute. I’ve got something I need to do.”

After she’d gone, Fine closed the door and did a quick teleport into his room. It was dark, the blinds covering the lone window and all lights turned out. He left it that way for now, his thoughts drifting to Pinkie.

They’d had a moment. Hadn’t they? A fleeting instant of a connection he hadn’t understood. In the dark he could see her eyes, so large. Scared, but hopeful at the same time. The phantom made his heart beat a little faster, and he tried to fathom why. A regular pony might have leapt at the sensation, attempted to define it as something so enthusiastic as ‘love’.

Fine was not a regular pony. He wouldn’t jump to that conclusion. At least, not again. He didn’t dare make the same mistake with Pinkie as he had with Fluttershy. He had a connection with her too, and misinterpreting it had been one of the most painful mistakes in his life, to say nothing of what it ended up costing Pinkie. There’d been a fundamental flaw in his thinking with Fluttershy, something so basic that he still beat himself up for not noticing it sooner. The compatibility, the capacity to accept one another’s differences in worldview, hadn’t existed. They tolerated one another, even appreciated their opposing perspectives.

But in the end, the gap had been too wide to bridge.

Without confidence that a bridge existed between Pinkie and him, or could at least be built, Fine didn’t dare make dangerous assumptions. Maybe it had been love. Or perhaps it had simply been the passion of the moment. He didn’t know. He couldn’t. And it was too early to act.

They had a foundation. But that was just one piece of the puzzle.

For now, he pushed the Pinkie problem aside in favor of something else. He ignited the lamps of his room and went to the bedside table, where he’d put his potion and letter paper. Sunflower was going to get a surprise visit tonight.

He wondered if he could get Luna to let him watch.

Day 4

The first thing Fine noticed upon waking was the scroll on his bedside table. A sinking sensation made him feel as though he were being buried in his mattress. He’d been expecting a scroll from Luna, but this one was far too small. What kind of message might it hold? He found he didn’t want to look, so he forced his head to face the ceiling and let the chains of uncertainty hold him in place.

Luna couldn’t take him from this place. Not now. Not when he was finally starting to… perhaps not understand Pinkie. But he had felt a connection yesterday. It was real, tangible. For the first time since he’d begun this strange journey, he saw potential. He couldn’t be ripped away from her when things were going so well!

It was going well… wasn’t it? Maybe Pinkie didn’t feel the same connection yesterday he did. It could have been just another moment to her, perfectly interchangeable with all the others. She might be another Fluttershy, blissfully unaware of feelings stirred within him. In defiance of its illusory chains, his hoof went up to rub at his chest. The heart, where it had hurt the most.

He doesn’t value life. What makes you think I would ever, ever choose to live my life with somepony so far removed from the very foundations of Harmony?

No. He wasn’t going to have this argument with himself again. It helped nopony. He’d just have to temper his enthusiasm. Pinkie might not feel the same way. His own feelings might just be him getting his hopes up. He had to be ready for something going wrong. If he was ready, it wouldn’t hurt so much when Pinkie…

The faintest of whimpers escaped his throat. His eyes found their way to the scroll without his help. Slowly, as if fearing some deadly trap, he took it up in his magic and floated it over his head. He felt so horribly hollow. No, Luna wouldn’t do that to you. I mean, Pinkie wouldn’t do that to you. I mean… He groaned and closed his eyes. “I don’t know what I mean.” Without looking, he ripped open the seal and unrolled the scroll. A second passed. Another. His chest stung…

Because he was holding his breath. Feeling like a new potential recruit awaiting test results, he forced the tension from his shoulders and opened his eyes.

Fine Crime,

Your excitable friend’s dreams are not so happy of late. I entrust her recovery to you.

He didn’t know whether to be relieved, disappointed, or alarmed. Pinkie was having nightmares? And Luna wanted him to deal with it? That wasn’t exactly his area of expertise. Come to think of it, his track record for dealing with his own nightmares was so crummy he almost dared to think Luna was neglecting her duties. Which was patently ridiculous; Luna took to her job with more gusto than Celestia did, and Celestia was the bona fide Princess of Workaholics.

But Pinkie was having nightmares. Perhaps he should have seen that coming, all things considered. And it did explain her attempts in the early mornings to make things seem extra cheerful these last couple days. So the question now was: what would he do about it? Obviously, he couldn’t Dreamwalk, at least not without Luna’s help, and he doubted that was the solution she had in mind. Something in the waking world then.

Now fully awake, he hopped out of the bed and made for the door. Best to nip this in the bud right…

His aura faded from around the door handle. No. He couldn’t just ask Pinkie about it. She was clearly trying to hide this from him. The direct approach may make her clam up. She’d done that to Rainbow, hadn’t she?

He groaned, rubbing his mane back and staring at the door. He could tell so many things about ponies within just a few minutes of talking to them, but Pinkie eluded him. It was one of her more charming aspects, something that had drawn him to her ages ago just by virtue of being unique, but now it only served to frustrate. He had no idea whatsoever how to approach her for this, or if he even should.

No, he definitely should. The problem wouldn’t go away on its own. If Luna said Pinkie needed his help, then Pinkie needed his help. But how?

Heaving a sigh, he muttered, “You can’t solve a Pinkie Pie problem by lingering on it, Fine. She needs to be confronted. You know this.” Even so, it took him almost a full minute to open that door. Once in the hall, he allowed himself a second to cast his life detection spell. The obvious expectation was for Pinkie to be up and about already, probably taking over the inn’s kitchen. Again.

Which is why he was startled to find a life sign still in Pinkie’s room. He stared at her door, wondering why Pinkie would sleep in now. So far she’d always been out of bed at the same time or earlier than him, and he strongly suspected that had everything to do with her Pinkie Sense. Then again, he could be overthinking things.

He lingered, caught between worry and anxiety. The worry seemed silly, as the odds of there being something wrong with Pinkie were low. The anxiety… What would he say if he opened the door and woke her up? How would he explain his silly little concerns? She’d probably be understanding. Still, it wasn’t proper to sneak into a mare’s room without her knowledge. That might not have bothered him in most cases, especially when he knew that most mares wouldn’t notice he’d ever been there, but this was Pinkie. She’d notice. And even if she didn’t, it felt wrong.

Then, the solution came to him. A rather obvious one, really. Sure, it counted as eavesdropping, but that was nothing compared to just walking in there unannounced. Mostly satisfied with that conclusion, Fine stepped up to the wall and cast a simple listening spell. If Pinkie were asleep, he’d simply cancel it and—

Pinkie wasn’t asleep. Fine’s ears folded back as a piteous sound hit them. Sharp, whistling breaths, as if a pony were in pain. Light whimpers, and a quiet sob. The sound had Fine’s hackles rising and his heart throbbing. Without so much as a second thought, he teleported into the room in a billowing cloud of smoke.

His first instinct was to look for Pinkie. He spotted her instantly, still lying in bed and curled into a tight, shivering ball. He started for her, barely pausing to check the room for potential threats. “Pinkie?” He brought his forelegs onto the bed and brushed her mane back, revealing a face coated in fresh tears. “Pinkie! What’s wrong?”

Her eyes, originally closed tight, somehow managed to open a sliver. Wet and slow, they settled upon him, and the expression she offered was probably meant to be a smile. It was more like a gruesome scowl, marred even further when she let out a soft sob. Sniffing, she spoke in a voice he could barely hear. “I th-think I might have had some badjacks.”

He blinked, cocked his head. “Badjacks?” His eyes followed hers down her body, to where her trembling forehooves were rubbing her barrel.

Then he remembered: they’d had pancakes yesterday morning.

“Shit.” A surging energy rose up from some unknown depths, its impact robbing him of breath. He took Pinkie’s cheeks in his hooves and looked her in the eyes. “Don’t worry, Pinkie. I’ll get help. Just bear with it a little longer. Can you do that?”

Her eye clenched closed once more, she gave a weak nod. “P-please hurry.”

He did, teleporting directly downstairs into the dining room. As soon as the smoke cleared he rushed into the kitchen. Sure enough, Mr. Collate was setting out ingredients for whatever breakfast he’d had planned for them. “Ah, Mr… Sorry, ‘Fine.’ Just you this morning?”

Fine wasted no time with pleasantries. “Does this town have a unicorn doctor trained in internal examination?”

Mr. Collate’s brow furrowed. “What in Celestia’s Mane would you need to know that for?”

“Because we have a medical emergency?” Fine growled, stomping forward until he was practically in the stallion’s face. “Pinkie needs a doctor, now. Tell me this town has a unicorn surgeon!”

At last catching on to Fine’s urgency, the inn’s proprietor sobered in an instant. “Not a practicing one, but Dr. Sawbones only retired two years ago and still lives in town. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“No time!” Fine grabbed Mr. Collate and began dragging him to the exit. “Pinkie needs that doctor!”

Mr. Collate didn’t resist, but he spoke firmly. “Calm down. The doctor can be better prepared if she knows what she needs to be looking for.”

Fine let the words seep into him. He had to for them to make any sense through the blood pounding in his ears. Sucking air between his teeth, he managed a calmer tone. “Right. Y-you’re right. Of course.” With great effort, he spoke slowly, making sure to enunciate every word as clearly as he could. “Pinkie had surgery months back. Intestinal. She’s not supposed to eat anything but liquids. Yesterday, she had pancakes. Now she’s in pain.”

After letting out a slow breath of his own, Mr. Collate nodded. “Okay. You stay with her. I’ll have Dr. Sawbones here as soon as I can.” He left without another word.

As much as Fine wanted to go see Pinkie, he forced himself to stand still and reflect. His eyes stared at a bag of flour on the counter, but his mind’s eye was aimed inward. He understood now that he’d been panicking. No, not had been. Legs weak, stomach churning, shoulders tense. He had to make a conscious effort to control his breathing, and even then it came a little faster than normal.

Fear. For Pinkie. It was only the second time he’d felt that.

He couldn’t return to Pinkie visibly afraid. He had to keep it in. She needed him to be strong right now. But he couldn’t waste time fighting his own emotions either. Pinkie needed him now. The longer he lingered, the longer she as alone with her pain. So, with one last deep breath, he lit his horn and teleported back into her room.

His ears folded back as the quiet weeping resumed. Pinkie had rolled over and now faced away from him. He approached, barely keeping control of his hooves and avoiding a short gallop. Licking his lips failed to moisten his throat. He watched her back, observing the shake of her shoulders. Her mane was flat, splayed out on the bed like a brilliant pink carpet. It was surprisingly long when not all curled up.

Distracting himself. Not wise. He reached forward to touch her shoulder. “Pinkie? Mr. Collate’s gone to get a doctor.”

She turned her head, revealing a watery blue eye. She whispered something, but it came out as an indecipherable rasp. Fine leaned closer, taking her head in his hooves and gently raising it towards him.

“I’m s-sorry,” she managed. “I spoiled our d-day.”

“You haven’t spoiled anything.” He forced his lips into a quivering smile. “Nothing at all.”

“Liar.” She closed her eyes tight and squirmed, eventually rolling onto her back. “I w-was supposed to… to bring you home today. I p-promised.”

“It wasn’t a Pinkie Promise,” he countered softly. “I think I can forgive you. Besides, I didn’t feel like going today anyway.”

She tried to smile for him. Instead she moaned and curled into a shivering pink ball. Any attempt to speak was ruined by a fresh sob.

Fine stepped back, worry gnawing at his insides. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t make her feel better. He was supposed to, wasn’t he? A proper friend would find a way. But her condition was beyond basic field medicine, which was the scope of his healing knowledge! He opened his mouth to say something but could find no words. In that moment Pinkie seemed so far away. This was her area of expertise. He didn’t know how to cheer her up. Was that even what was required? Why hadn’t that stupid doctor arrived yet?

His thoughts froze as she strained to take her hoof away from her barrel. The shaking appendage reached for him, and he hurried to grasp it in both of his. Though she didn’t look at him, Pinkie pulled, and he found his chest pressed against the side of the bed. She held his fetlock tight against her stomach, and she whispered into his ear.

“Talk to me.”

He looked down. Though her chin pressed against her collarbone, her eyes pleaded with him. He leaned a little closer. “I don’t know what to say.”

“T-talk to me,” she pleaded. “Distract me.”

Saying no was not an option, so he scoured his brain for something to say. “W-well, I… I guess… I guess I could tell you a story?”

Her lips trembled into an ugly simulacrum of a smile. “A f-funny one?” She tensed, a shaky gasp escaping her throat.

“A funny one?” He glanced aside, once again trying to find something. “I… yes. I guess I can do that. I just need…” Something came to mind. He grasped it without hesitation and looked to her once more. “Did I ever tell you about the time I kissed a bull?”

She made a sound somewhere between a giggle and a whine, gritting her teeth as she did. “Th-that sounds funny.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, using his free hoof to brush her mane back from her face. “I was in Cowedonia. I was supposed to stop a griffon assassin from killing the Count of Glascow. Otherwise the Gallopeans and Cowedonia would cut trade ties. Archons didn’t want that.” He cringed at her quiet whimper. Was this working at all? “O-one day I was following the trail of the assassin, which brought me to a small pub in a similarly small town.”

She managed to force a query with her raspy voice. “What was the town’s name?”

“Name?” He chuckled, an expulsion of nerves that did little to settle them. They hung in the air like wasps eager to sting. “It was, uh, Longhorngrind.” Continuing to pet her mane, he settled his forward body onto the bed and gave her forelegs a squeeze. “Little place. About the size of Ponyville before Silma showed up.”

“Hmm.” Pinkie took a slow breath. “So the p-pub?”

“Right.” He closed his eyes and thought back to the scene. It was enough to make him smile a little. “The griffon had gone into this pub, the Belle of Angus. He apparently knew I was following him, because he chose that moment to spread around some rumors and outright lies, mostly involving me insulting every sow and calf in town. By the time I got to the place, he had half the town ready to smash me flatter than a pancake.”

He barely resisted a grimace at his own word choice. Pancakes probably weren’t the best thing to mention right about now. If Pinkie felt any displeasure at the mention, however, she didn’t show it. Maybe because she was too busy trying to control her breathing.

Don’t think about that. The story, Verity, focus on the story.

“So I walk into the pub, already aware that the locals didn’t seem to care for me. I barely had time to sit down at the bar when these three heifers start crowding me and demanding an apology. Of course, I tell them I have no idea what they’re talking about. They tell me if I won’t apologize with words, they’ll pull it out my throat by force.”

“S-sounds like they could have used a hug,” Pinkie suggested, her eyes barely open. She watched him, fighting to keep the pain from making her close them.

“Pretty sure they were interested in more violent methods of dealing with the problem,” he replied with a wan smile. “Anyway, the heifers were each at least four times my size, and not a single cow in the place looked interested in saving my skin. Aye, I think they were trying to decide whether to join in. The smallest of them accused me of calling the lot of their species oxen.”

Pinkie let out a low “oooooh,” which was accompanied by a faint whistle in her throat. “L-low blow.”

“I know, right?” He grinned, happy that she was at least trying to get into the story. “I didn’t know my teleporting spell yet, so I had to find a way to get out of there real quick. A few more cows were starting to crowd the bar, looking to get in on the action. It’s hard to say ‘you’ve got the wrong pony’ in a place full of cattle, especially when you’ve got my coloration.”

“I th-thought you were the master of disguise.” Pinkie twitched, her forehooves tightening around his fetlock as another tremor ran through her. Fine was almost certain he felt the pain himself. “The invisib-ble pony. The master of m-mystery.”

Resting his free hoof on her cheek, he muttered, “Even I can’t be perfect all the time. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

She nuzzled his hoof with a strained smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Her cheek was so soft, but also so wet. He set to work cleaning her face of tears, even as she added a few more to the rivers on her face. He considered using his magic to do it, but couldn’t bring himself to try. Doing it by hoof felt more… appropriate. Or perhaps ‘intimate’ would be the right word.

“S-so how did you get out of there?” she asked.

Not pausing in his slow, careful cleaning, Fine replied, “I told them I could prove I had nothing against cattle. They laughed, said I was bluffing. I forget how it went, something like…” He paused to focus on getting the Cowedonian accent just right. “We aren’t going tae believe such an obvious lie unless ye pucker up an kiss a bull full on the lips, ye geit ma meaning?”

Pinkie laughed. Actually laughed! Fine felt a wave of euphoria, which crashed an instant later when Pinkie let out a cry and curled a little more tightly around her stomach. He brought his lips to her ears and began whispering. “It’s okay. It’s alright. Just stay strong, Pinkie. The doctor’s coming.”

Her reply was little more than a hiss. “Don’t stop.”

He tried to meet her eyes, but she couldn’t seem to open them. Her face was scrunched up in a mask of pain. “Pinkie?”

“D-don’t stop.” She gasped, took a few heavy breaths. “Finish the st-tory. Please…”

How do I make it stop hurting?

Why can’t I help her?

I’m supposed to be more useful than this!

“Right. O-okay.” Cradling her head atop his elbow, he fought to push out the panicked thoughts flitting through his mind and focused instead on where he was in the story. “Well, it just so happened there was a bull sitting next to me. Big guy. Longhorn. Looked like he had half a mind to give the heifers a hoof in smashing me.”

Pinkie moaned, but her eyes finally came open and met his. They pleaded with him, but her real intent eluded him. He hoped she was asking him to keep going. “So, I did the first thing that came to mind and kissed that bull. I grabbed him by the horns, jerked his head down, and gave him one full on the lips.”

“Wow.” It was more groan than word, but Pinkie’s meaning was clear. “I didn’t know y-you had a thing for cattle.”

“I certainly had a stunned audience.” Fine closed his eyes, clearly recalling the expression on every cow’s face despite how long ago the event had been. “The bull shoved me back and cursed up a storm. And me? I played the spurned lover, whining about how he saw me as nothing but a toy to play with when his girl wasn’t around.” He winked, and took a measure of pride that the motion earned him a giggle. “Turned out his girlfriend was one of the heifers threatening me.”

Pinkie gasped, and for once he suspected it had nothing to do with the pain she was in. “What did she do?”

He brought his eyes up to the window, vividly recalling what happened next. “She tossed me over the bar. Smashed two dozen bottles. Then she went to town on her bull, her and her friends, for being a two-timing cheat. Once Luna’s stars stopped dancing around my head I took the opportunity to high-tail it out of there with my skin intact. But I did get one last look at the bull before I went out through the kitchen.” He smirked down at Pinkie. “I’ve never seen a full-grown longhorn look so scared.”

Pinkie’s body shook as she fell into a painful-looking fit of laughter and crying. Fine held her steady throughout, struggling to hold onto his smile as he watched her. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her something like that. Was it possible to die from bad physical combinations like amusement and agony? Oh, Goddess, but that idea made him feel even worse!

At last, her spasms faded. She lay back against his leg, wheezing as if she’d just ran a marathon. “Owie.” His worry must have shown, for she said, “Thanks for the story. It was a good one.”

He studied her face for some hint of deception. “I’m, uh, glad I helped?”

“You d-did. I might want to hear another.” She reached up and brushed his cheek with her hoof. “And now I know you’ve got a thing for cows.”

Fine groaned. “I do not have a thing for cows.”

“You’re the one that k-kissed a bull.” She gave him a strained pout, one hoof still clutching his at her barrel as she squirmed. “Am I n-not big and b-bulky enough for you? Not masculine enough?”

He blinked, chuckled, laughed. To know she could still act so silly despite being in so much pain was a huge relief. A bit of a mystery too, but being an enigma was part of her charm. “You’re better than any lumbering cow. Don’t you worry about that.”

“What’s this about cows? That’s not my specialty.”

Fine turned to find a small, stubby yellow mare in the doorway of Pinkie’s room, her short-cropped mane nearly white with age. She had on a simple collar that held a black bag under her neck. The mare peered at Pinkie through a pair of round spectacles. “So what’s all this, then? I hear somepony ate something she shouldn’t?”

Pinkie nodded with what was probably the most enthusiasm she could muster under the circumstances, which wasn’t much. “It r-really hurts.”

Some of the tension left Fine now that he knew the doctor had arrived. He nodded his thanks to Mr. Collate, who stood behind the aged mare. As Dr. Sawbones approached Pinkie, he carefully extracted his hoof from Pinkie’s grip. She let go on her own, but only after a moment’s hesitation.

“She had surgery months back,” Fine explained. “The doctors in Canterlot said she couldn’t eat anything solid.”

“Yes, I did listen to Petri on the way here, thank you.” The doctor pushed Fine aside roughly and reared up to place her forelegs on the bed. “I swear to Celestia, it’s ponies like you that made me so happy to retire, assuming I don’t know nothing.” With a far gentler tone, she told Pinkie, “I’m gonna take a look at your scars to help pinpoint the most likely location of the problem, alright?”

Pinkie, face pale, nodded and closed her eyes tight. “F-Fine.”

“Good. Now don’t you worry, I—”

“Fine.” Pinkie raised a shaky hoof, and Fine realized she was calling for him. He hurried to the other side of the bed and took her hoof in both of his.

“I’m here, Pinkie,” he whispered, giving Dr. Sawbones a nod.

The doctor snorted and shook her head. “The nonsense names some ponies have.” She focused her attention on Pinkie’s stomach, gently running her hooves over it to part the fur and feel for the scars. Pinkie squirmed, only to go still when Dr. Sawbones shot a raised eyebrow and a scowl her way. Fine frowned in turn, but said nothing.

“Okay, found the scars,” the doctor announced to the room. “Now let’s just take a looksee.” Her horn lit up a dark orange and her eyes gained a pale white sheen. She stood still over Pinkie, humming on occasion. Her lips pursed into a thin line.

Pinkie’s grip on Fine’s hoof tightened, and he leaned down to nuzzle her. Her breathing had grown heavier since the examination started. Her eyes had opened wide and threatened to produce more tears. Fine could only try to maintain a stoic expression. If only he had some idea of what to say. Anything that might help her be brave through this.

At last, Dr. Sawbones’ horn faded and her eyes returned to normal. “Well, I have good news: you didn’t break anything.”

“I didn’t?” Pinkie seemed to forget her pain for a moment, her brow furrowing as confusion washed over her features. Then she cringed and almost doubled over with a whine. “Th-then why does it hurt so much?”

Dr. Sawbones started rummaging through her medical bag. “Your intestines haven’t fully healed and weren’t ready for anything solid. They’ll hold, the fella who stitched you up did a bang up job, but you’re putting some serious strain on them right now. Of course they’re gonna hurt, you silly filly. Next time a doctor tells you to not eat solids, I would recommend you listen to him.”

Fine at last allowed himself to relax. Patting Pinkie’s hoof, he said, “There, you see? It’ll go away with time.”

“That it will, once you’ve gotten enough of the food digested and out of your system.” At last, Dr. Sawbones pulled out a small notebook and pencil. She scribbled something on it, ripped out a page, then levitated it over to Mr. Collate. “Here, Petri. Go see Gentle Touch and get these. They should help deaden the pain a bit.” As Mr. Collate left the room, the doctor pointed at Fine. “You I want to see outside for a moment.”

Pinkie raised her head. “I-is something wrong?”

“Hush, child. The only thing wrong is that you did something stupid. That’s nothing new; I find most patients are stupid. Thank Celestia I’m retired.” Ignoring Fine’s scowl, the doctor gestured for him to follow as she went to the door.

Fine looked to Pinkie, who was chewing her lip in worry. “I’ll be right back,” he said, adding in a whisper, “Maybe I can get tips on improving my bedside manner.” That won him a nervous titter, at least.

He followed the doctor into the hall and closed the door. He resolved not to snap at the old mare. She had helped, after all, and besides that she’d probably earned her grumpiness given her profession. “Okay, Doctor. Please tell me that wasn’t a white lie to keep her from panicking.”

Dr. Sawbones lost her grim countenance for an expression of wide-eyed alarm. “By Luna’s fine flanks. Her insides look like a timberwolf had its way with them. What did she do?”

Her quiet exclamation brought his ears down. He shivered as he recalled the sensation of digging claws into Pinkie's belly. “Y-you’re not far from the truth. A… Let’s say a ‘monster’. A monster tried to gut her. Princess Luna herself had to intervene to save her.” He didn’t dare mention that the monster was technically him.

Dr. Sawbones released a long, slow breath. “I’ve seen a lot in my time, but that definitely ranks among the worst of them. Probably top five.” She shook her head and muttered to herself for a time. “The medicine Petri is getting is potent stuff, should deaden the pain, but she needs to stay in bed for the next twenty-four hours. I don’t advise letting her eat anything during that time, and I mean anything. Water should be fine, but not food, not even soups. She puts her insides under any more strain than they already are and she’ll be needing lots more than some pain pills.”

Fine cringed; that was going to be hard to explain to Pinkie Pie. “I… got it.”

“You better!” The doctor shot him a glare. “From what I understand, this is at least partially your fault. Aren’t you two aiming to be a couple? A stallion should take better care of his mare.”

He blinked, taken aback by her vehemence. “How did you—?”

“Petri told me.” She waggled a hoof in his face. “And don’t change the subject! Keep an eye on her, make sure she does what she’s supposed to. Barring some coincidence on the streets, I don’t want to see either of you for the rest of your stay in Rockstead, you got me? I’m too old to be running around town fighting medical emergencies.”

Shrinking back, he nodded hurriedly. “I got you. Luna’s honor.”

“Good.” Adjusting her medical bag, she turned and started to walk away, but paused. “Oh, right. Tell her she shouldn’t eat solids for at least another three weeks. Might have gotten away with one, but after this mess better to be safe than sorry. And for Celestia’s sake, confirm she’s ready with her doctor first!” With a final flick of her tail, Dr. Sawbones marched off, grumbling and mumbling all the while.

Her insides felt as if they’d gotten tangled in a Ferris Wheel and the conductor had gone off on break. Pinkie squirmed and whimpered and whined, knowing that none of it would help. This was almost the worst day ever. She’d put it at number three. How could she have forgotten about her condition like that? Eating those pancakes had been the stupidest thing she’d ever stupided, and she’d stupided a lot in her life.

“Well, Pinkie Pie,” Fine said as he returned from the hall, “this is another fine mess I’ve gotten you into.”

Oh, no, does he blame himself? “I did this,” she muttered.

“We both did this,” he countered, returning to his place at her side and rubbing his hoof on her shoulder. “I’d say we’re both equally responsible this time.”

She moaned as the Ferris Wheel gave another lurch, twisting her icky stomach bits nice and tight. “I’ll never eat pancakes again.”

“You of all ponies know better than to make promises you can’t keep.” He began petting her mane. She didn’t have the stomach to say it – literally? – but it felt really nice when he did that. “The doctor extended your diet by two weeks.”

“W-what?” She gaped at him, only to cringe at another fiery lurch in her belly. “Please tell me that’s some kind of cruel and tasteless joke.”

He sighed and wouldn’t meet her gaze. He looked almost as pained as she felt. “I’m afraid not. I hope those pancakes were worth it, because you won’t be having anything solid for three weeks.”

Three weeks. Three weeks of soups and water. Three more horrible, mind-numbingly boring weeks. She unleashed all her misery in a long, slow moan and let herself go limp. Even the regular churning of her insides kept her from doing much beyond staring at the ceiling. “I-I’m gonna go insane.”

Fine raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were already there.”

“This isn’t the same,” she monotoned. “This is… this is… I don’t know what it is, but I don’t think my taste buds will ever forgive me.” She hissed at another kick in the gut. “Or my stomach.”

“Nonsense.” He smiled for her. It was forced, but she appreciated it anyway. “In a month we’ll look back on this and laugh.”

She moaned and banged the back of her head against the pillow a few times, lamenting the fact that pillows were not the best things to bang a head against. Or maybe they were. Depends on the perspective, really. “I don’t suppose you know that fancy Starswirly time-travely spell, huh? I wanna be Future Pinkie now.”

“Sorry, Princess. Even if I did I think I’d have to veto that idea.”

“Poo.” Her eyes went back to the ceiling. She tried to focus on Fine’s hoof running through her mane. It really did feel good. Not good enough to distract from the pain, but she’d take it. “How long am I gonna be stuck here?”

“Until tomorrow morning at least,” he replied apologetically.

Another long moan. “Oh, cruel p-pancake, how could you betray me so? Was it because I didn’t use enough syrup?” She grit her teeth and held her stomach as her insides gave a cruel twist. “Well, fine. There won’t be any syrup, because I won’t eat you anymore, pancake! So you do your nasty little knife dance on my guts, ‘cause you’ll never get another chance.”

“At least you still have your imagination.”

She sniffed and glanced at Fine. “This is the worst…”

The door opened before Fine could reply, and in walked Mr. Collate. “Got you some medicine,” he announced, holding up a small can. “One dose only. Doctor’s orders. Should last you through to tomorrow.”

Pinkie promptly thrust her hooves out, waving them eagerly. “Gimme. Gimme, gimme, gimme.”

He instead gave the small can to Fine. “Unicorn seal. Technically only doctors or nurses are meant to be able to open it.”

Fine scoffed and tossed the can Pinkie’s way. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“I’m telling you, only uni—”

Pinkie snatched the can out of the air, flicked off the top, and downed the medicine in a single gulp. It tasted like rotten tomatoes, but she managed to avoid gagging by questioning how she knew what rotten tomatoes tasted like.

“—corns… How did she do that?”

“You learn not to question it.” Fine took the emptied can from Pinkie and set it on the nightstand. “Looks like we’re going to be trapped here for the day. Don’t worry about cooking us anything.”

As alarming as that statement was, Pinkie had to take a moment to recover from the foulness in her mouth. She managed to rasp out a desperate “Water!”, which was fortunately answered by Mr. Collate only a second later. It wasn’t much, just a small sip, but it helped a little. At the very least she was able to work her jaw again. “Celestia’s mane, that was terrible.” Her attention jumped to Fine. “Why no cooking?”

He sighed and patted Pinkie’s hoof. “More orders. No food until tomorrow morning. Anything—”

“No food at all?”

A pause, perhaps to see if she had anything more to add. Then Fine said, “No more. At all. If you eat anything, even soups, she was afraid you’d do real damage.”

Pinkie wondered if it was possible to be fluent in moans. She banged her head against the pillow a few more times in frustration, then buried her face in her fetlocks. “So unfair…” So not only was she trapped in bed all day, she was also being punished with starvation. Never again. No pancakes for her! If she saw another one ever again, it would be too soon. She didn’t care how good they looked, from this point onwards pancakes disgusted her. It would be easy. Just remember the pain and the foul taste of rotten tomatoes.

Maybe she should eat a bad tomato once a year, just as a reminder. That would teach those pancakes!

Wait… she lowered her hooves to look to Fine, not surprised to find Mr. Collate had already left. “What about you?”

Fine cocked his head. “What about me?” He raised a hoof as if to stop her from saying something. “I’m not joining you on an anti-pancake crusade.”

She shook her head forcefully. “Food. Why did you tell Mr. Collate not to cook any? I mean, I get me, but you can still eat.”

“Nope.” He sat down and crossed his forelegs, muzzle held high. “If you’re not eating, I’m not eating.”

“W-what?” Pinkie shook her head again, this time with far more vehemence. She wasn’t sure how a headshake could look vehement, but it sounded right in her head. “You can’t do that! There’s no need for you to suffer with me.”

“Oh, but there is.” Maneuvering himself so he was positioned closer to her head, he rested his forelegs and chin on the bed. Guilt washed over his face as he muttered, “This is at least partially my fault. I could have reminded you or something.”

“But it was my responsibility to—”

“Nope,” he repeated firmly. “It’s a cardinal rule: if she ain’t happy, ain’t nopony happy. I’ll be right here, Pinkie. If I can do nothing else, at least I can do this.”

She had no idea how to feel about this. Bad, because she didn’t want him to starve? Yes, maybe. But that definite feeling was deadened by an appreciation that made her heart all warm and fuzzy, like it had become a home to sheep. A nice little woolly cubbyhole. She liked that feeling. It made her want to give Fine a big, cuddly hug. Then she remembered that he was going to starve himself for her, and the wool was sheared by the little Mini-Pinkies of Sadness and Frustration.

Oh, there she was on that mental highway again. Except now there were a bunch of road blocks, all craftily placed by Fine and his stubborn determination to claim responsibility. But some of those Pinkie drivers took the Blame Lane because he was responsible. A little. Nowhere near as much as she was. Shame on those Pinkies for pointing hooves.

“Please, don’t do this for me,” she whispered, reaching out to pat Fine’s head of red mane. “It’s nice you want to, but…”

“What am I, Gummy?” Fine pulled her hoof away with a bemused look. “Petting me like a… well, a pet. I can bite like Gummy, if that’s what you’re after.” He promptly clamped his mouth around her fetlock, hard enough to require some effort to escape but not enough to cause any pain. She laughed, especially when his eyes took on a vacant, distant look and blinked a few times.

“Gummy wouldn’t refuse to eat,” she told him between titters. “He gets cranky when he’s not had any food in him.” She wagged her hoof in a halfhearted attempt to dislodge him.

He let go, chin flopping back to the bed. Then he grinned at her. “Well, you seem to be feeling better, at least.”

Only then did she realize that, yes, she did feel better. There was still some pain, but it was like a shadow of what she’d been through earlier. “That stuff works fast. Hey, why don’t we—”

Fine pushed her back onto the bed before she could get more than halfway up. “Sorry, Pinkie. Nothing but bedtime for you.” She let out a long whine, to which he shrugged. “I failed to be attentive of your health once. I’m not about to do it a second time. Stay.”

“But—”

“Stay.”

“I just want to—”

He pressed his hooves against her shoulders and gave her a narrow-eyed look.

With a groan, she crossed her forelegs and pouted. “This is worse than when I had Applejack’s baked bads. I can’t just lay here all day doing nothing. I’ll explode!” Catching his smirk, she added, “I’m serious! Do you know how much energy a Pinkie Pie generates in just a few minutes? I’ve gotta vent it out or I’ll go kablooey. I’m too young to go kablooey!”

Fine hummed, sat up and rubbed his chin. “Perhaps we can find some things for you to do while still in bed. Reading a book, perhaps?”

“I dunno,” she replied warily. “Unless it’s all actiony I don’t see it getting rid of all the excess kablooeytastic energy in me.” Her eyes lit up. “Hey, did we bring any board games?”

“I would not be surprised if you did. I, however, did not.” He glanced around the room. “I can check your bags for you if you’d like. Where’d you put them?” He glanced down. “Under the bed?” He started to drop to his knees—

“No!”

—and shot right back up, eyes wide. “What?”

Fire shot through her cheeks as she tried to think up something quick. What would Rarity do? “I… just… uh… You don’t go rooting through a mare’s things, Fine!”

He cocked his head, one ear raised as the other folded back. “Uh… Why?”

“I don’t know, you just don’t!” She was foundering. It didn’t really matter what words came out of her mouth right now, just so long as he did not check under the bed. “What if I had something private in my bags?”

He blinked. Blinked again. “Like what?”

She faltered, lips flapping soundlessly before she managed to reply. “Uh, private things?”

Things got quiet as they stared at one another. Pinkie could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Would he press her? Oh, please, don’t press me! I have no idea what to say or do anymore.

At last, Fine rubbed the back of his head. His furrowed brow broadcasted his perplexity plain as day. “I think I’ll just chalk this up to my lack of social grace. Plus the fact that I’ve spent practically my entire life having little care for the boundaries of personal property.”

Now it was her turn to blink in confusion. “Did you just call yourself a thief?”

“Yep.” This without any sign of guilt whatsoever. He abruptly clapped his hooves together with a grin. “I got it. This town’s gotta have some stores. I’ll ask Mr. Collate where I might go to buy some games to keep us occupied.”

Latching onto this new direction, Pinkie nodded. “Yeah, that sound like a good idea. And buy yourself some food while you’re at it.”

“Not happening.” He turned for the door, paused, turned back. His eyes narrowed. “You’re not gonna get out of bed while I’m gone, are you?”

Hunching her shoulders, she huffed and blew a raspberry at him. “I’ll behave, Mr. Fussypants. Just don’t take too long. My kablooey risk factor goes up by the second.” He continued to peer at her, so she sighed and went through the sacred motions of a Pinkie Promise. “There.”

No sooner had she finished the motions than he perked up and grinned. “Alright, some piping hot games coming right up! I’ll try to hurry this up.”

He was gone. Pinkie didn’t move, instead listening to the quiet room, ears perked high and eyes drifting across the walls. She was so sure Fine would pop in again in a minute or two, just to make sure she kept her promise. Not that he’d need to. After all, she’d Pinkie Promised. Still, she remained tense, listening and ready for that moment when her Pinkie Sense told her he was about to appear. She waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

“Waiting is boring,” she mumbled, allowing her mane to fall flat once more. She glanced at the old limestone clock on the wall. Still early morning. And she was stuck like this all day. At least she wasn’t hurting anymore. Whatever Dr. Sawbones had prescribed her, it was potent stuff. Although…

She let out a long yawn. “Does this stuff make me sleepy? I hope not.” She sat up and shook herself, trying to get a bit more energy in her. Despite all her suggestions of the need to be active, she did feel strangely lethargic. She found the bottle on the nightstand and read through it, groaning when she saw that sleepiness was indeed a side effect.

That’s just great, Pinkamina. Fine’s going through all this trouble to buy games for you and not eat and drink anything and be miserable and you’re probably gonna sleep half the day away. And then the nightmares will come back...

She shook her head vehemently, both in denial and to get a head start on fighting sleep. “No. I’ll stay awake all day! Fine won’t go through all that while I’m snoring worse than a Rainbow Dash.” Her eyes drifted back to the clock. Only two minutes had passed. With a whine that would have made Rarity proud, she flopped onto her back. Stupid time refusing to speed up when ponies were sad. Why did it have to move fast only when good things were happening?

She glanced at the corner of the bed. The dress stored just underneath her came flitting into her thoughts. If he had found that too soon… would it have ruined everything? It certainly felt like it would mean something bad. Maybe that was just nerves, like Rarity had said. Dumb nerves, why couldn’t they leave her alone?

She stared at the ceiling. Counted the boards. Counted them again, got a different number. Counted them a third time. Her thoughts drifted to home.

A whole day wasted. I should be bringing Fine to see the farm. Telling him… stories. I wanted to do it slow. Now we’re more than halfway through the first week and I’ve only told him about Surprise. If we don’t do this soon, we’ll have to go home. Or extend the vacation, and Fine can’t do that. He’s got a busy super-Important Pony job. Oh, why did I eat those pancakes?

She clenched her eyes tight and wallowed in her own pathetic nature. No more delays. Tomorrow, for sure. Come rain or high water or a whole mountain of Rockstead Stacks! I’ll tell Fine as much as I can. Delaying this will only make the situation worse.

Her lip trembled at the thought. Worse? Worse… The only ‘worse’ was if she didn’t have a Fine Crime to help her through this.

“Tomorrow,” she whispered to the ceiling. “Tomorrow, for sure.”

Day 5

Fine watched with bemusement as Pinkie loudly slurped down the contents of her bowl. It was some sort of ‘breakfast soup’ Mr. Collate had decided to make, with egg and strong herbs. Fine admitted it was good, and he was still ravenously hungry after having spent an entire day fasting with his companion. Even so, the animated way that Pinkie attacked her bowl seemed just a little over the top. Not that he expected anything less from her, of course.

Pinkie dropped her bowl to the table with a blissful look on her face. “Oooh, that hit the spot. I want another!”

“Ooh, no.” Fine waved his spoon in her face with a smirk. “Your stomach just got better. You want to threaten it with more than it can handle again?”

Her shoulders slumped and her lips fell into such a sagging frown Fine wasn’t sure it should be physically possible. “I guess not. My stomach does still feel a little icky.”

“And it’ll feel a lot more so if you keep putting things in it.” He ate a spoonful of his own soup while she pouted and poked at her bowl with a hooftip. “Don’t worry, in fifteen minutes you won’t be hungry anymore.”

“That doesn’t help me now,” she whined. “Besides, soup never stays in the stomach long. If I don’t eat enough, I’ll be hungry halfway to lunchtime.”

Her concern seemed valid. Fine had little trust in the ability of soups to keep him feeling full for long. He hummed and rubbed his chin, eyes drifting to the door to the kitchen. “Maybe we can get Mr. Collate to give us some to go? We can have it as a snack while we’re out.”

She perked up instantly. “Hey, that’s a great idea! I’m gonna go ask him.” She bounded out of her chair and pranced for the kitchen, leaving Fine alone with his soup.

For a while, he enjoyed the peace and quiet. He had thought he’d be exhausted after being trapped in a room all day with Pinkie, even if she was bed-bound. That wasn’t the case at all. If anything, he was eager to get started with whatever she had planned for today. This he found more than a little curious.

But then again, had he not been spending every day with her for most of a week now? And not once had he grown weary of her. He defied his own expectations. Glancing at the door, he wondered when she’d get back. This dining room was really too quiet.

He blinked. Too quiet? Since when has that even been a possibility for me?

“He said yes!” Pinkie erupted from the kitchen, slaughtering the quiet with the same ease Applejack bucked apple trees. Wrapped in her curly tail was a pair of jars filled with the yellow soup. “He offered us spoons but I told him ‘we don’t need no Celestia-slappin’ spoons!’ I mean, it’s soup, you can drink it, which is really convenient when you think about it. The amazing and wonderful soup, perfect for your travelling culinary needs!” She twisted as she got to the table, whipping her tail such that the two jars slid onto it, each coming to a stop next to their respective owner’s bowls just as Pinkie slipped back in her seat. “But they still don’t fill you up right.”

Fine smiled warmly at her. Much better. “Well then, is there anything else we need to get for this walk through town?”

“Yes.” She said this with such conviction that Fine paused in finishing off his soup to give her his utmost attention. She met his gaze, expression so firm as to be almost comical. “You’re gonna eat something else while we’re out.”

He met her gaze, then took a look at the jars on the table. Sure enough, they were filled to equal levels. “Why?”

“You let me worry about the why.” She tapped her hooves on the table as if it were a drum. “Now hurry up and finish that breakfast, buster! We’ve got some walking to do.”

Deciding that pressing her would do him no good at the moment, he obediently took his bowl in his magic and drained it in two big gulps. After a long gasp of air, he set the bowl aside and saluted. “Breakfast consumed, ma’am. Shall I carry you outside while we’re at it?”

This elicited a stream of delightful giggles from her. “That won’t be necessary, soldier. Maybe another time, like when I’m all mopey and whiny and won’t listen to reason. Ponies say I do that a lot. Don’t know why, I think I’m a great listener. Fluttershy says I drive Twilight up the wall sometimes though.” She frowned, worry igniting behind her eyes. “I don’t drive you up the wall, do I? I mean, you’re kind of Twilight-y.”

He opened his mouth to respond, only to wonder as to how. There was a time, once, when she was…

Catching her worried expression, he shook his head, more to clear it than as an answer. Now was not the time for deep deliberation. “You used to, but I think I’ve acquired the taste of Pie.”

Her eyes slowly widened, and her frown became a flat line. Gradually, like a fire growing hotter, her cheeks gained an extra shade of red. “R-right. Good. I, uh…”

Was that steam coming out of her ears? Fine leaned forward to get a closer look, but saw nothing. As she continued to sputter and spout nonsensical words, he wondered just what he’d said to get that kind of reaction. He let her run on for a few seconds, gradually growing more worried as her focus grew less and less on him. At last he asked, “Do you, uh, need help?”

“Nope I’m okay let’s get going now bye bye!” An instant later she was out the front door. Fine stared at it as it creaked closed behind her, wondering just what had gotten into her. When it became clear she wasn’t going to come back, he grabbed their jars of soup, poked his head into the kitchen to compliment Mr. Collate on his new recipe, and went outside.

He found Pinkie sitting in the shade of a tree down the street, frantically fanning her face with a hoof. “Are you alright?” he asked as he approached.

“Y-yeah. Just needed to cool off for a moment.” She giggled anxiously at his nonplussed expression. “Don’t worry, I’m all better. Just don’t ask, okay?” Asking was the first thing on his mind, but at her pleading look he decided to drop the matter. For now.

“I hate to sound like I’m plagiarizing Rainbow Dash,” he said once they started down the street, “but it has to be said: Pinkie Pie, you are so random.”

“Don’t let Rainbow know you said that. She’d charge you for using her intellectual property.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re joking.”

To this she offered an exaggerated pout. “It’s no fun when you get it right away.”

With a light laugh, he said, “I apologize! Next time I’ll act dumb.”

Pinkie shot him a deadpan look. “Next time?”

He blinked, considered her manner, then rolled his eyes. “Har har. So, are we visiting Sunflower today or taking the east road through the commercial side of town again?”

“Neither.” Catching his fetlock, she dragged him down an unfamiliar road aimed towards the heart of Rockstead. Her next words came out with a grave certainty. “We’re taking the direct route. We need to do this. I need to do this. No more delays.”

Fine almost asked if she was sure about that. Almost. He had to admit, he’d been wondering when she’d finally push herself. His curiosity regarding her home hadn’t waned at all since they’d gotten here, but after the whole pancake incident he hadn’t wanted to press her. It was quickly becoming apparent that he had a discipline-related soft spot for her. He’d have pushed most ponies forward long before now. Why did he keep wanting to give Pinkie a pass?

Travelling through downtown Rockstead made the trip faster by hours. It also gave Fine the opportunity to see some of the governing buildings of the place, including the town hall and Royal Guard barracks. The latter of those was rather pathetic, and he doubted it held more than a half-dozen Royal Guards at any given time. Even Ponyville had something bigger than that. But then, Ponyville was right next to the capital of Equestria and hosted some of the most influential ponies in the country, so perhaps that made sense. Even if Rockstead was only a little smaller than Ponyville, culturally speaking it was a relative backwater.

Pinkie did her usual, greeting half the ponies they passed – by name if she’d met them once before. There was a strain to her cheer, however. A subtle thing, but Fine had been around her enough to notice how her smile wasn’t quite so wide as usual. It got worse as they got closer and closer to the edge of town. When they came upon the familiar road towards the farms, her smile was a feeble remnant of what it once was, valiantly struggling to hang on.

Only once the last pony had moved out of sight and they’d been alone on the road for a few minutes did she let her hair down. The motion came quickly, the curly locks dropping like anvils with a finality that made Fine suspect something. He didn’t speak. Didn’t study her. When he did glance her way, she was staring straight ahead with haunted eyes, blue pools that spoke of memories flitting across her vision.

When they passed the path to the river, Pinkie finally spoke up, her words solemn. “Do you think we deserve to be punished?”

He looked to her. She didn’t look back. “I felt like I was punishing myself every day and night for years.”

Her ears folded back. “How?”

He thought back on those first few years, years when he was aimless and hopeless, murdering because he couldn’t fight his own body. Nights of sleeping cold and alone on Manehattan streets. Or later, when he took to sneaking into the homes of ponies for shelter and dreading what might happen if he was found. And the kills. Staring at the bodies. Wondering why it wouldn’t end, why he wouldn’t end it. Because he could. He knew all along: he could.

Licking his lips and shuddering, he replied with a quiet, “By living.”

Pinkie paused, and Fine followed suit. A smaller, overgrown path left the road to their right. Pinkie’s gaze drifted to it, her face pallid and her body tense. Fine watched as her tail tucked between her legs and her head lowered nearly to the ground. Should he help her move on? “If—”

“This way.” She stepped past him. The first step on the path brought her to a sharp stop. She let out a whine that stabbed his heart, but after only a second the rest of her legs followed. Body hunched, knees shaking, she proceeded on to their destination. Fine followed close behind, ready to offer her support should she need it. They didn’t get very far before Pinkie slowed to a stop. Her head turned at a grinding pace towards some bushes to their left. Trembles attacked her entire body, from ear tip to hoof, and she soon fell to her haunches.

Without hesitation, Fine pressed against her side. Her shaking didn’t stop at all from the contact. A sickness ate at his heart when he realized how little his presence was doing for her. How was he supposed to help her? “Pinkie?”

“It was here,” she whispered, words chopped and breathless. “It was right here. My second time.”

Here? He allowed himself a second to check their surroundings. It was nothing special. Just a wooded spot on the path, the thick foliage making it impossible to see more than a foot or two beyond the road. Ahead was a curve, thin but leafy trees obscuring anything that might be beyond it. The main road was still visible, but some fifty yards away. It was a perfectly obscure place. The kind he had used for an assassination or two in his time.

Or let a powerful vision take hold. He brought his leg around her shoulder and fought down the urge to give her an out. Instead, he asked, “Do you want to tell me about it?”

She met his gaze, eyes watering and lip trembling. “I w-want my sister back.” Rubbing her eyes, she settled down to lay on the ground. She did so carefully, gradually, as if afraid to disturb the very grass beneath them. Once settled she spoke again. “Maud was my elder sister, and my absolute bestest best friend in the whole wide world. She never left my side after Surprise… after I k-killed Surprise. I would have done anything for her, I loved her so much.”

Now Fine suspected he knew where the ‘punishment’ topic had stemmed from. Keeping firmly pressed to her side, he nuzzled her cheek. “I’m sorry to ask, but how?”

“No, I need to say it, don’t I?” A ragged breath. “It was a couple weeks after I k-killed Surprise. Maud had been trying so hard to cheer me up. I think she was at the end of her rope. I don’t blame her. She didn’t know what I’d done, wouldn’t believe me when I said it was my fault. One day she brought me out for ice cream. One more attempt to help that fell flat.”

Pinkie nudged a peddle with the tip of her hoof, entire body sagging. “She bought me a balloon, too. A big green one with a pretty red cord. I… I liked balloons, and I appreciated what she was doing. So of course I took it. I took it. I wish I’d never done th-that.” Sniffing, she let her chin drop to the gravel. “I’d been a week without seeing a vision of me killing anypony. I thought I was safe. We were walking home. A vision hit. I didn’t… didn’t realize it was happening until it was too late.”

She brought both forehooves before her face, body hitching from suppressed sobs that tore into Fine’s heart with devilish abandon. He watched, transfixed, as she began rolling her hooves in a familiar motion, one he’d used himself a few times.

“Maud carried me. She had no way to know what was coming. Sh-she thought I was giving her a hug. I wrapped the balloon’s cord around my hooves, then bit down on it between them. Then I squeezed. She never even noticed I’d put it around her throat until…” Pinkie’s forelegs, hooves aimed at herself, grew tense as if she were pulling tight on something. They vibrated with the force she put into keeping them locked like that, her teeth gritting with visible effort. Tears began to drip off her cheeks as she continued the morbid demonstration.

“Maud was amazingly strong,” she whispered, legs still locked. “She could break solid boulders with her bare hooves and lift whole carriages as if they were paper. You’d think she’d have been able to rip me right off her back, but she couldn’t get to me. I was in that b-blind spot, the one most ponies can’t reach. She bucked and kicked and rolled and… a-and…” Pinkie’s body spasmed as a choked sob escaped her. “I th-think she tried to scream. I don’t know. I just remember how much fun I was having! Fun. Fun. Fun.”

Her legs continued to tremble, their shaking growing more violent as she began to hyperventilate. Fine came out of his tranced listening and gave her a light shove. “Pinkie? Pinkie!”

“Fun,” she hissed, eyes wide and wild, pupils tiny. A fleck of saliva flew from her peeled back lips. Her gaze wouldn’t leave her vibrating hooves. “Fun. Why was it fun? It shouldn’t have been fun. Fun. Fun! So much fun! What’s wrong with me? Fun. So m-much—”

Fine was at a loss. Was she simply reliving the moment? Should he find some way to stop her? He didn’t know! But to see her behaving like this, this familiar, hideous caricature of the mare he’d come to know, it left a cold emptiness inside him. “Pinkie!”

Abruptly, the tension in her legs left. Her eyes lost their mania as she let her hooves touch the ground again. Fresh tears flooded her face as she gazed at something invisible on the ground. “M-Maud? Sis?”

He caught her by the cheeks, forced her to look at him. He had to flash his horn to get her to properly focus on him, her dilated pupils shifting in tiny, jerky motions. “Pinkie? You with me?”

The confused, hurt expression on her face rapidly collapsed into despair. “I killed her. F-Fine, I killed my Maud. I-I’m evil, aren’t I? I—”

“No.” He held her face firmly, kept his eyes locked with hers. “No. It’s not your fault. You’re not evil. It was the vision, Pinkie. The Bloodmane. Nothing more. You hear me?”

If anything, her features only grew more desperate, her eyes crying out her pain. “Th-then why do I feel like a monster? Why do I…” She lunged forward, grasping him in a death grip, and wept with a ferocity that startled him. Too stunned to do anything else, he returned her embrace and listened to her pained cries that were nearly screams.

Only now did Fine fully understand the depth of what they were doing. In all his life, his murders had been ponies distant to him. Strangers, unknowns, criminals and thieves. He’d thought that he’d suffered. With every fresh stab of Pinkie’s sobs into his heart, he came to better know how simple things had been for him. All those years feeling sorry for himself, like he’d been cheated by fate, now felt paltry and selfish. What was his pain compared to hers?

It went so far beyond that, though. He remembered all the moments he’d taken for granted, all the ways she’d communicated to him her fear without him fully grasping it. Most of all, he remembered a hard night within the Crystal Caverns beneath Canterlot. He could still see her lying there, oozing blood from the wounds he’d given, listening as she spoke of returning to a life of murder and torment. She’d been so frightened. He’d seen it. He’d known it.

But he hadn’t really understood. Listening to her weep in his arms, feeling her desperate hold, his promises from back then felt so shallow. No wonder she pounced on an opportunity to have a friend with her experiences. No wonder she turned to him for understanding when she hid from all others. How could any reasonable pony expect forgiveness for something so terrible? She deserved better than his unaware, worthless promises. They’d been spoken in earnest, but that did nothing to alleviate their paltry nature.

He would do better. Pinkie was owed that much. By fate, if not by him.

“V-Verity?”

He pulled back to take in her visage. She was a mess, her face a wasteland of tears, her eyes red and her mane a tangled, frizzed ruin. “I’m here, Pinkie.”

She rubbed a fetlock across her muzzle. It came away covered in snot. She didn’t seem to notice. “Are you sure I’m n-not… evil?”

He somehow found it in him to smile warmly at her. Taking her hoof gently in his own, he lifted it up and magicked away the mess she’d made of it, never taking his eyes from hers. “Pinkie Pie, out of all the ponies I’ve met in my life, I think you might be the least villainous.”

Pinkie’s eyes widened just a fraction. “B-but that means I’m still at least a little villainous, right?”

It took a considerable effort to keep from being exasperated by her stubbornness. “Everyone is villainous to some degree, Pinkie. Even Fluttershy.”

Whatever she’d been about to say died on her tongue. Her brow became a mess of furrows and her eyes crossed. “Wait… Fluttershy? How in Equestria could you say that?”

Fine grinned, cleared his throat with a light cough, and then did a faux scream of “You’re going to love me!” The result had Pinkie giggling up a storm, accompanied by the occasional hiccup leftover from her earlier fit. Fine grinned and shook his head. “Yes, I can say that, because it’s true. We all have some capacity for villainy. You, Pinkie? You’re an angel.”

Her laughter faded, but her smile didn’t. She nudged the ground with the edge of her hoof and blushed. “Y-you’re just saying that to make me feel better.” Then the smile disappeared as well. “After all the things I did, I can’t possibly be a good pony.”

He scoffed. “You spend your days running a bakery and making ponies happy at every conceivable opportunity. You are a living embodiment of joy and laughter. Everything you do, even the selfish things, are done with the intention of making the lives of others better in some fashion. You, Pinkamena Diane Pie, are a paragon of goodness even in comparison to your companions.”

“But after all I did—”

“Do you think I’m evil?”

“Huh?” Her ears perked, lowered, perked again. She stared at him as if he’d just told her parties were stupid. “Don’t be silly. Why would I think you’re evil? You didn’t kill…” Her eyes fell once more, the energy fading all over again. “You didn’t kill family.”

“I killed, regardless,” he said firmly. “I killed dozens. And that’s before you count my job as an Archon, back when killing was my job. And then I became the Mane Archon. Do you know how many kill orders I’ve signed since I took this role?” He studied her, watching as she considered his words and avoided his gaze. “I honestly couldn’t tell you. Hay, I signed two of them in the days before we left for this vacation.” That earned him an alarmed look to which he only nodded solemnly. “That’s right. You didn’t think it stopped after I met you and discovered friendship, did you? Because Fluttershy already learned that in this I can’t be sidetracked.

“So if you think you’re evil,” he concluded, wrapping his hoof around her shoulder once more, “then you’ll have to look upon me as a bona fide King Sombra.”

She grew quiet, eyes on the ground. Chewing her lip, she mumbled to herself. Fine watched this, wondering if he’d reached her. He hoped so. The last thing he wanted was her feeling as if she were in any way a bad pony. The very idea that she could think of herself that way was appalling, and he refused to stand for it.

Time passed. Ten minutes, perhaps twenty. Pinkie continued to be lost in her own little world, and Fine was wary of pulling her out of it. She was thinking, and he hoped that was a good thing. Still, with no way of knowing how his little monologue had affected her he began to fret.

Abruptly, she stood up. “It’s time to go.”

He followed her lead, taken aback by her calm, stoic manner. How was he supposed to gauge that? She led him further along the path, silent save for the soft plodding of hooves in the dirt and rock. The trees and the bushes remained as thick as ever, and before long it felt like they were walking some wilderness trail far removed from civilization. A fork in the road saw Pinkie turn left without pause. Fine began to wonder about her quiet manner. Perhaps it was only because they were so close to her old home. That warranted some solemnity. So even though he deeply questioned the wisdom of it, he kept his mouth closed and let Pinkie lead him on.

Then, at a curve in the road, the trees and shrubs vanished. Fine and Pinkie paused in tandem to stare at a long, grey field of dirt, rock, and grass. The grass in particular appeared as an invader, something that didn’t belong in the scene before them. The plain, perfectly flat, stretched on so far Fine had no hope of determining its size, even though an end was clearly marked in the distance by a thin line of green. Dead center of this dreary, lifeless landscape sat a farmhouse. Plain, two stories, apparently made from wood, with a ceiling of thatch. The home appeared dilapidated and neglected, with one wall caved in and holes visible in the roof even at this distance. Nearby was a silo, presumably for storing rocks, that had toppled over some time past. The windmill still stood, though its wheel didn’t move in the light breeze. A barn, not unlike that belonging to the Apple Family, stood nearby, short and stout and seemingly untouched by the passing of years. Cutting clear across the landscape was a ravine of indeterminate depth, like a scar on the face of Equestria.

If Fine had to describe in a single word, he would have said ‘bleak’.

“I’m home,” Pinkie whispered. There was no energy to her words, neither joyous or fearful. It was as if she had lost all her emotions and become as dull as the land before them. Fine looked to her, then to the farm. That she had somehow come out of a place so dry as this seemed like nothing short of a miracle.

Without another word, she began to walk down the hill. Fine kept at her side, close enough that he could lend a hoof should she need it. Her eyes remained locked on the old farmhouse with every slow step. The sun beat down on them in the open plain, but even so the air felt cool. They passed a fence, the gate of which had disappeared with only the old, rusted hinges left to suggest there’d ever been one. Pinkie’s legs began to shake again, but even so she plodded ever onward, movements stiff and tail tucked.

She only stopped when they were a few yards away from the front door, which somehow remained in place. Pinkie was taking her breaths in slow gasps at this point, her chest and shoulders heaving. Fine’s worry only grew with every passing second. Should he take her away from here? Maybe it was too soon. He watched as her wide eyes gradually lowered to the ground before them.

He couldn’t take it anymore. “Pinkie.”

A choking sound rose from her throat. She reached a hoof forward and touched at the spot just in front of her with intense care, as if doing so were a sacred act. “G-Granny…”

He looked to the spot on the ground. It appeared no different from everything else around them. His eyes darted back to her. “Pinkie?”

Sucking in a deep breath, she turned away from the farmhouse. “N-not yet,” she muttered. “I can’t go in there. Th-this way, okay?” She walked along the side of the house, keeping it at a great distance from herself. Fine frowned, glanced at the spot once more, then followed. His eyes drifted to the house, which was in a far better state than it had seemed at a distance. Yes, that one wall was still collapsed and there were holes in the roof, but ignoring that it appeared structurally sound. Even the windows were intact, albeit with a thick coat of dirt and dust.

Even so, it felt so very… lonely.

Pinkie brought him round the corner, where they encountered a massive rock that reminded Fine of an egg. The thing towered almost as tall as the farmhouse itself, and was sectioned off by a separate wooden fence.

“Holder’s Boulder,” Pinkie said with a hint of curiosity in her tone. “We treated it like it was some super important landmark, but I never understood why. I think there was a story to it, but… but nopony got a chance to tell it to me.”

Curious. Fine wondered if any of the townsponies knew the story. He elected not to ask that now. Pinkie was clearly moving towards something specific, and he didn’t dare interrupt. Killing her momentum now might undo everything they’d been working for on this trip. They continued on, headed for the massive gash in the plains.

Until the barn came into view. The instant it did, Pinkie froze. Back came the shivers and gasping breaths, only this time far more intense. Fine stopped at her side, but she barely registered his presence. She could see it. It. The barn.

“Pinkie?”

Fine’s voice was like a whisper. She ignored it. Swallowing to moisten her dry throat, she exercised all her willpower just to turn her head in the direction of that building. Was she still there? Was she watching?

No. Get a hold of yourself. She’s not there.

“Pinkie.”

It’s all in your head. Y-you should get it over with now. Now. Now. Take Fine over there and…

Pinkie.

A faint whimper scratched its way out of the tight confines of her throat. Stop thinking about it.

Pinkie.

Stop thinking about it.

Her eyes burned from the need to blink. She could hear something… wind?

Pinkie.

Stop thinking about her.

It looked at her. Pale mane. Hidden face. But it looked.

Pinkie!

She tried to move away. Tried to scream. She could do neither. Don’t think about her!

“Pinkie!”

Her vision was blocked. She reared back with a choked sound that she’d meant to be a shriek and flailed her hooves. Fine caught both of them with his magic and pushed her back with it, walking in step with her as he did. Pinkie’s eyes darted from his to the barn. There was nothing…

But the door was open.

She jerked right out of Fine's magical grip. Galloping with all her might, past Holder’s Boulder, away from the farmhouse and into the abandoned rock field. Tears streamed down her face. She struggled to breath, struggled to think. Somepony was calling for her. Somepony? Her? She closed her eyes tight and desperately sucked in air. She should have known better, should have—

She slammed into something soft, and an instant later was on the ground in a tangle of hooves. Fine was on top of her before she could scramble back up, pinning her forelegs to her sides and sitting on her barrel. She kicked her hind legs, squirmed and twisted and shook, but Fine’s hold was firm. “We… We… Run… Have to… Sorry… R-Run…” Why couldn’t she get anything out? Hyperventilating! She tried to twist and see past him, see if she was there, if she was coming, but she couldn’t—

Fine wrapped her in a tight hug around the shoulders. “It’s okay, Pinkie. I’ve got you. Breathe. You hear me? Breathe. With me. One. Two. In. Out. Breathe. Come on.” He continued to talk, repeating, counting. Unwittingly, she began to follow his instructions, then became more aware of what she was doing. Her hooves vibrated, but she still managed to return the embrace. She made herself breathe through her nose. Slow, deep inhales and exhales. Her heart was like a hummingbird overloaded on sugar, but with every long breath it slowed its pace. She pressed her chin to his shoulder, tried to look beyond him, but there was nothing. Only blue sky.

An attempt to make a sound found her voice worked again despite the painful scratchiness of her throat. “Can we go? P-please?”

Barely had the last word left her mouth than smoke filled her vision. She felt the familiar shift of air around her, and when the smoke cleared they were back on the forested path. She didn’t let Fine go, and neither did he relax his hold on her. They lay there for a long time, Pinkie fighting back tears and Fine as silent as the grave. She was exhausted, but she kept glancing around, expecting to see… she didn’t know what. Something. Maybe her.

By the time either of them moved, the shadows of the trees had shifted noticeably. Fine rose up, stretching his hind legs as he did. She made no attempt to follow, instead letting her arms fall limp. She kept her gaze on the canopy, blinking as the light broke through the leaves and flashed into her eyes. She wasn’t sure she had the energy to even try standing.

And still, Fine said nothing. He flashed his horn, summoning forth the two jars of soup, and proceeded to open them. The pleasant aroma reached her nostrils within seconds of the lids falling off. He set one jar down by her side and sipped quietly on his own. At no point did he look at her. She realized he was giving her space for her own recovery time. Did she appreciate that? She couldn’t be sure. She couldn’t be sure of anything anymore.

Without getting up, and in a hollow voice she barely recognized as her own, she asked, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

He paused, mouth full of soup, and looked at her. There was concern in his gaze, but also a strange kind of awareness. He took a while to swallow, perhaps to give himself time to think. Then he wiped his lips with the back of his fetlock and carefully, by hoof, put his jar down.

“Yes.”

Not the answer she’d expected. Turning her head to him, she asked, “Have you ever seen one?”

He continued to stare at her. What was that expression? She couldn’t place it. Like a pony who knows a deep truth and afraid to share it yet is being confronted by the need. Wide, round eyes, tightly pressed lips, shoulders tense.

“I’ve seen a lot of things in my career,” he finally answered, his words coming slowly. “I don’t know if those things qualify as ‘ghosts’ or not, but they leave me with no doubt that such things exist.”

She forced herself into a sitting position, her movements slow. Once properly on her haunches, she took the jar of soup in both hooves, but didn’t drink. “So if I said I thought the farm was haunted, you… you wouldn’t think I’m crazy?”

He thought on this for a moment, looking down the road past her as he did. “I would say that I don’t know anywhere near enough about such things. So if you say you saw a ghost, I’ll believe you.” His eyes met hers. “Did you see a ghost?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed, looking deep into her jar of soup as if it might hold the answer. “I saw… something. M-maybe it’s in my head. Maybe I’m just being a paranoid, nutty Pinkie Pie. I have done something like that before.”

He hummed and nodded. “The birthday incident, right?” To her alarmed look he replied, “Rainbow told me about it once.”

“Oh.” Wonderful, Rainbow was telling others about her breakdowns? She thought that pony was supposed to be loyal! No, no, calm down, Pinkie Pie. Rainbow had to confide in somepony, right? Who better than Fine Crime? “L-like I said, I have a history of seeing things that aren’t there.”

“That doesn’t mean what you saw wasn’t important.” He leaned towards her. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

She licked her lips. Did she want to tell him about it? She turned in place, staring at the road behind her. Would it make her feel better if she did? Or, if what she was seeing wasn’t an illusion, maybe it would only make her more upset. She was upset. She had to be.

Pinkie would be in her place.

“No. Not yet.” She turned forward and took a drink of her soup. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Settling back on his haunches, he took his own soup in his magic, but didn’t eat. “Honestly, I never thought you’d react so poorly to being here. I…” He glanced away, mumbled something to himself. Shook his head. “I’d understand if you wanted to call the whole thing off.”

“No.” The word came with a firmness that surprised her. “I did better this time. We made it all the way to the back of the house. I can do this! I j-just need to work my way up to it.”

Another of those long silences passed between them. Pinkie wondered if she shouldn’t be warier of those. But then, Fine tended to take his time before speaking. He thought about his words a lot. She shouldn’t take it as a sign that things were getting awkward, no matter how it might feel. She wasn’t anxious at all, no. Not after having a terrible freak-out and talking like a crazy pony. Or after stupidly forgetting the she had a life-or-death problem with her tummy that made them have to spend an entire day starving. Or that they were currently sipping on soups because he felt obligated to remind her of the aforementioned tummy problem.

He should be mad at me. Is he mad at me? I can’t tell when he’s going all Twilight Sparkle thinky mode on me. Oh, face it, Pinkamena, you’ve screwed this up ten times too many. He probably okay no he doesn’t hate me, but he’ll never want to be my coltfriend at this rate. Maybe that’s for the better. I’m all muddled up in the noggin. He is too, but I’m so much worse. And now I’ve got her on my case and he probably doesn’t want anything to do with that oh why did I bring her up she might not even be real! I’m just being a stupid, gullible, seeing-things-that-aren’t-there dummyPie who doesn’t deserve Fine’s friendship much less—

“You’re not eating?”

She jolted out of her thoughts. Fine was watching her, concern clear on his face. Oh, great! Now you’ve got him thinking you’re not eating. Good job, Pinkamena, you stupid pony. She put the lid on her jar of soup and tucked it away in her mane. “I’m not hungry right now,” she muttered, ignoring her empty stomach.

He watched her do this, then sidled a little closer. Fidgeting, eyes unable to focus on her, he reached up to touch her shoulder. “Pinkie… I, uh, got a letter from Luna.”

Her heart sank. Oh, no. Now he’s coming up with an excuse to leave me behind. Eyes on her hooves, she asked, “Okay?”

Brushing his mane back with his free hoof, he asked, “Are you having… nightmares? Maybe related to this ghost?”

A cauldron buried deep within Pinkie’s soul ignited, and the boiling energy that resulted hit her before she knew it. “Oh, is she sneaking into my private moments now? Having fun watching me squirm like taffy over a fire? You can tell her that if she doesn’t want to help me then she can just butt out!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Pupils shrunk, Fine waved his hooves as if to ward off a blow. “Calm down. She only asked me to talk to you about it.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to talk about it!” Crossing her hooves, Pinkie turned her head with a huff. “And here I thought it was her job to help ponies get over their nightmares. I guess she couldn’t bother with freaky Pinkie’s dreams. I’m too coco in the loco.”

Perhaps when he realized she wouldn’t say more, he spoke, his tone weary. “If this defensive posturing is meant to make me give up, it won’t.” At her one-eyed glower, he added, “You’re only making me more confident that something’s wrong, you know.”

“There’s nothing—!”

“Denying it only convinces me more.”

She puffed out her cheeks and growled even as she berated herself for her anger. It’s not him you’re mad at. You’re mad at Luna, and you shouldn’t use Fine as a bucking bag! “Well, maybe if—” Do not take it out on him! “It’s not that I—” Don’t lie to him either!

Fine watched her going through these wild emotions with a long, depressed frown. “Why are you so upset?”

“Because I’m being stupid!” She threw up her hooves, toppled backwards, and landed on her back with a puff of dirt and leaves. “I don’t even know why I’m mad, but I am! I was supposed to show you the mines and I couldn’t even get past the farmhouse. I wanted to tackle two things today and I barely managed one. I’m making you miserable by being a Forgetter Forgettingpants and made you starve all day yesterday and now you’re eating soups and you had to chase me down because I’m also a Scaredy McScaredy and can’t get over my fears even though that’s the whole point and I’m wasting your time and you’re probably going to be mad at me now and I need to shut up but I just feel so stupid and I can’t stop thinking that stupid stupid stupid!”

With all that released, her inner cauldron was reduced to a simmer. She sucked in some sharp gasps, glaring at the sky through the forest canopy and ignoring the burning in her eyes. “Stupid tears,” she muttered. She waited for Fine to agree with her. He might not even do that. Perhaps he’d just teleport away and leave her to her misery. She certainly had it coming.

“Oh, are you finished?”

She blinked, then raised her head to stare at him over her chest. “Huh?”

Fine was examining his hoof with a bored expression. “Sorry, I’m just waiting for you to be done.”

Pinkie’s mental highway was threatening to become one great big pileup. “W-what’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. “You’re depressed. You’re angry. And that will all blow over.”

“Blow over?” She bounced to her hooves, all the better to level her best glare at him. “You think this will just blow over? Do you have any idea how serious this is? I’m a mess, a ruin, a party with no reservations, and now I’m seeing things and having nightmares and I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since we got here and you… you…” Her throat burned as fresh tears ran down her cheeks. “It can’t just blow over! I don’t know how to deal with this. I can’t deal with this! I’m s-so scared and now you’re gonna hate me a-and—”

Fine held her. She’d not even noticed his approach, but his grip was tight and his body warm. “That’s it, Pinkie. Let it out. Let it all out.”

She stood no chance. Before she knew it, she was wailing into his shoulder, arms wrapped tight to him. Her mind was fraught with chaos, enough to put Discord to shame, and she didn’t know whether to be furious or ashamed or just plain old miserable. For now, misery won out. She bawled until her throat burned and his shoulder was soaked in her tears, and then she bawled some more. She couldn’t think for all the raw emotion bursting out of her.

But Fine remained. Through it all, he was like a rock, one that she desperately needed. Just like when she was a little filly, back when she would squeeze herself against a nice warm boulder that might protect her against all the scariness of the world. When she was too frightened to face her parents, when Maud was not around to protect her, when Limestone couldn’t give a damn, at least there was that boulder. She clung to it, to him, as one hopeful thought punched its way into her muddled and ravaged consciousness:

Fine would be her boulder.

At last, she upturned her cauldron and began righting the highways. The tears stopped flowing and the hundreds of Pinkie Pies stopped panicking. But she didn’t let go of Fine, nor he of her. They clung to one another long after the shivers ceased and her heartbeat eased. She’d collapsed at some point, supported only by his strong grip. It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. In the end, neither of them was able to break the standoff.

So her stomach, apparently having had enough, growled its disapproval.

Pinkie flinched. Fine followed suit. A second passed. They giggled in unison, and at last began to pull apart. But Fine caught her cheeks in his hooves before she could get too far away, his red eyes calm and pleasant. “Pinkie?”

She swallowed to moisten her throat. “Y-yes?”

His words were slow and soothing, and his eyes demanded all her attention. “I know you feel like a monster. But remember, I was a monster first. I’m not going to let you go through this alone. You’ll get through this, Pinkamena. I Pinkie Promise.”

She let out a small gasp. “F-Fine! You can’t Pinkie Promise that. What if I can’t—”

He shushed her, brushing her long, straight mane aside as he did. “None of that, now. None of that. You know better than I do: a Pinkie Promise is never broken. You stumbled, that’s all. It’s to be expected.” He pulled away, but before releasing her cheeks added, with the sweetest of smiles, “I believe in you.”

The world felt so much colder when he let go. Pinkie wanted nothing more than to pounce on him right then and there, but held herself back. Somehow. Instead, she tried to convey her appreciation with a smile, knowing it was woefully inadequate for the task. “Th-thank you. I’m sorry I’m being so difficult.”

Her ears went flat as her stomach interrupted what she had meant to say next. Scowling, she poked her tummy with the edge of her hoof. “Quiet, you! I’m trying to have a touching moment, here.”

Fine laughed and pointed to her mane. “Maybe you should just eat and get it over with.”

Rolling back her head, she moaned. “Oh, alright, then. Since it’s gotta be all pushy and stuff.” She pulled her nearly full jar of soup back out of her mane and popped the lid off. As she did she took a good look at the sky through the forest canopy. It looked like it was well past noon. But hadn’t it been morning when they’d first come down this path? That breakdown must have taken longer than she’d thought.

As she started to eat – slowly, so as to not upset her stomach (boy, was it finnicky lately!) – Fine settled down on his barrel. He observed her for a few moments in contemplative silence, and she tried not to think too much about what was going through his mind.

He waited until she’d gulped down the entire jar to speak. “When you’re ready,” he said slowly, perhaps cautiously, “you’ll talk to me about the dreams, won’t you?” She met his hopeful gaze. She knew what he wanted to hear. And, truth be told, she found she really wanted to say it. But was it the right time?

Somehow, she didn’t think it would help. Not yet, not until he had the big picture. But soon…

“Soon,” she said with a small nod. “If I can just get a little further in this, explain a little more.” She tapped her hooftips together and ducked her head a little. “Is that okay?”

He nodded, offering her a wan smile. “That’s fine. A goal like that can help, I think. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

She believed him.

That made all the difference in the world.

Day 6

Pinkie eyed the makeshift stage set up at the back of the Rock Bottom Inn’s dining room. It didn’t seem like much, but there was more to it than met the eyes. Still, she couldn’t help thinking there was something important missing. “Are you sure it doesn’t need fireworks?”

Sunflower laughed at the query as she walked back and forth on the platform, testing it for weaknesses. “I’m sure Mr. Collate doesn’t want fireworks going off inside his establishment.”

“Well, that’s just unambitious, if you ask me.” Pinkie frowned and looked down at her hooves. “But then, nopony asked me, so I guess it doesn’t count.” Her head whipped back up. “Say, what about outside? We can put the fireworks in around the inn...” A giggle-snort. “...and light them off to let everypony in Rockstead know that there’s a Pinkie Party going on!”

Bouncing a couple times on one corner of the stage, Sunflower asked, “Why are you so determined to have fireworks?”

“I thought every magic show was supposed to have fireworks,” she admitted. “I mean, I only ever met one magician pony before you, so maybe I’m stereotyping? I’m sorry if I’m stereotyping. But she used lots of fireworks all the time and they were actually pretty cool just don’t tell my friends back in Ponyville that ‘cause they didn’t like her much but that’s not the fireworks’ fault and I’m going on a tangent again.” She abruptly slapped a hoof over her mouth, more because she was used to that happening than any desire to stop talking. It felt weird to do it to herself.

“There will be no fireworks for Sunflower’s Stupendous Soiree.” Nodding in satisfaction, Sunflower hopped off the stage and went to join Pinkie, giving her work one last look. “Did this magician you knew have a name?”

“Oh, yeah, the Great and Powerful—”

“Trixie!” Sunflower was abruptly grinning from ear to ear. “You know Trixie? She’s my favorite pony ever.”

Pinkie’s jaw hit the floor. She promptly pulled on her tongue, which rolled up into her mouth like a curtain, making flapping noises as it went. Lifting her jaw closed, she asked, “You’re a fan of Trixie? Most ponies I know can’t stand her! Which is kinda sad when you think about it. It must be pretty crummy having everypony hate you.”

“I know her reputation isn’t the best, but she’s not a bad pony at heart. She’s got a personae, a role to play.” Sunflower sighed and shook her head. “She does get a little too into the act sometimes. Come on, help me tear this down.”

Pinkie perked her ears and took a closer look at the stage. “Why? Is something wrong with it? Is it two inches too left?”

“It’s Thursday,” Sunflower explained, already pulling down the curtains with her magic. “The party’s not until Saturday, and it only takes an hour to set this up. I just wanted to make sure it would fit in here.”

“And Petri probably wants his dining room intact until then, I gotcha.” Pinkie hopped to it (literally) and helped pull the stage apart. “Do we have to bring this all the way back to the park?”

Sunflower, in the middle of pulling out the support rods for the back of the stage, shook her head. “Mr. Collate is letting us use one of the empty guest rooms as storage space.”

As a team they made quick work of the stage. Pinkie wondered when Fine would be back. He’d said he wanted to let Sunflower and her have their ‘girl talk’, whatever that meant. She was a little disappointed he wasn’t around. What was he even doing out on his own anyway?

They were hauling a set of wide, thin floor panels to the room upstairs when Sunflower, leading them, abruptly spoke up. “So, you and Fine. How did that happen?”

Pinkie’s ears folded back. Working to move the panels through the narrow doorway gave her ample time to think on her answer, but most of that time was devoted to questioning if she even should. Would Fine mind if she talked about it? But then, Sunflower knew about the Bloodmane. Maybe it was okay if she told the story. So the real question was whether she was willing to share. The answer to that question was… maybe?

Once the panel was safely leaning against the wall, Sunflower turned her worried gaze on Pinkie. “Too private?”

“I don’t know.” Sitting down, Pinkie tapped the side of her head and scrunched her face up. “Oh, bother.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” her companion added quickly, as if afraid she’d offended. “I was just… I’m curious about that weird stallion I met all those years ago.” She cuffed the floor and crossed her hind legs. “It’s odd, the idea of him having a marefriend.”

Perhaps that would seem weird to anypony who knew Fine. Even ignoring the whole Bloodmane thing, he was such a hermit. Pinkie smiled at the thought, recalling how it used to be hard to find him even when he was out and about. Not that he could hide from her, of course. That gave her a curious idea, one she’d have to ask him about later.

But for now she thought it would be best to be upfront… mostly. “I was in a bad place. You know, like a deep black hole that sucks up every thought of joy and laughter and turns it into icky stuff.” She rubbed a hoof along the scar on her chest. The faint bumps brought back phantom pains. She smiled just for the sake of not frowning. “Fine had a lot of big, scaly, nasty things to watch out for that day, and he could have gone to help anypony else, anypony at all. Instead, he dropped everything to help me. He intentionally picked me to save, even though he had goo-goo eyes for somepony else, even though she was prettier and yellow and he had no interest in me.”

She sat and continued to explore her scars with her hooves, focusing on the chest and stomach. She felt a curious tingle run through her body. “I kinda sorta fell of the crush cliff after that. And when the mare he was after rejected him, I was there to pick up all the little pieces she left behind.” She eyed the scar on her chest, parting the fur to see where the skin turned red and lumpy like a miniature mountain range. These are all yours, Fine.

“Wow.” Sunflower turned her head away at Pinkie’s glance. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to stare.”

Giggling, Pinkie moved a little closer. “It’s okay! I’m proud of them. Wanna see?”

“No.” The mare shook her head firmly, then hesitated. “But… why do you keep rubbing them?”

Almost blurting out the honest answer, Pinkie caught herself. They were trying to convince Sunflower that they weren’t dangerous to be around anymore, and despite her fears about being a bad pony she wasn’t going to change that. She looked around her mind in frantic search of a plausible explanation. The mini-Pinkies in her head all shrugged and gestured encouragingly, as if expecting her to adlib it.

She gave a mental huff. Some help you girls are. Catching Sunflower’s worried eye, she hurried to reply. “Let’s just say they’re reminders of what Fine’s done for me. I, uh, would rather not go into details.”

“Fair enough.” Sunflower led the way out of the room, and Pinkie followed on her tail. “So you were there to help Fine when he got rejected?”

There was a lilt to her words, a hinting query hiding beneath her breath. Pinkie caught on quickly. “Yeah, he never stood a chance, but didn’t figure that out until it was too late. Hay, everypony hadn’t figured it out until it was too late. But Fine and me, we talked about this. I’m not some replacement.”

As they headed downstairs, Sunflower’s head turned just slightly, as if she wanted to look at Pinkie but stopped herself. “You’re sure?”

In truth, the verdict had yet to come out on that one. As much as Pinkie wanted to believe it, how could she ever know for certain? But she didn’t like the way Sunflower kept probing the topic. A devilish little Pinkamena cut her off on her mental highway and pointed to the exit of Suspicion and Doubt, but she waved the rude mare away. Still, she couldn’t help but say, “Of course. Why?”

Sunflower glanced around as if expecting Fine to be listening in, rubbing one foreleg with the other. “Nothing. It’s just that I’ve seen it before. A pony gets their heart broke and runs into the arms of the first available pony, only for things to end…” She turned to Pinkie, waving a hoof as if to dismiss what she’d just been saying. Pulling on a plastic grin, she hurried to add, “N-not that I’m saying that’s you and Fine, of course. I’m just trying to say you should be careful, y’know? If you say everything’s okay, then I’m sure everything’s okay.”

Just who did this mare think she was, telling Pinkie her relationship with Fine was flawed? Maybe she should have taken that exit anyway. She wondered if there was a detour she could use. Maybe on the exit to the corner of Frustration and Mind-Your-Own-Business!

Realizing she was scowling, Pinkie shook off the expression with a maraca-sounding shake of her head and forced a smile to her lips. “It’s okay. I get it. Romance is risky business, that’s what my friend Rarity taught me. This’ll work out, Sunflower, I’m sure of it.” And don’t even think about looking for ways to prove me wrong, sister!

“Right. Of course!” Tittering, cheeks just a little pink, Sunflower turned back to the rest of the stage. “Alright, back to work! Gotta get this thing taken apart, yes ma’am.”

They worked in silence for a time, Pinkie maintaining her smile even as she brooded over what Sunflower had suggested. She knew the possibility she was just a replacement for Fluttershy existed. She’d given it a lot of thought, and even spoke to Fine about it a couple times. He swore to Luna that wasn’t the situation, and she wanted to take him at his word.

Still, wouldn’t anypony in his position say the same thing?

No, don’t think about it, Pinkie Pie. Fine wouldn’t do that. And even if he did, what we have is… is real. Fine is all mine, we just need time. She paused, giggled, moved on. And I shouldn’t be upset at Sunflower. She’s just looking after my best interest. She’s not trying to be a Thiefy Stealermare, she’s not going to take him away from me. She doesn’t even want to. The Pinkamena from earlier sideswiped her wagon and shot her a deadpan look. She really wished that pony would mind her own business. Alright, yes, I don’t know what Sunflower’s after. Maybe she is out to steal Fine. But probably not! I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. That leads to silly things like tea parties with inanimate objects.

“Pinkie?”

Jolting out of her thoughts, Pinkie blurted out, “I’m not talking to Madame Le Flour again, honest!”

Her cheeks went hot as Sunflower gawked at her. The magician’s ears flattened as she said, “Uh, I just wanted your help moving the last floor panel upstairs?”

“Floor panel. Gotcha.” Grinning to hide her embarrassment, Pinkie hurried to the panel in question, which Sunflower had already pulled away from the skeleton of the stage. As they started up the stairs, Pinkie realized that she was at a disadvantage regarding Sunflower. That didn’t seem fair at all, so she asked, “Say, how exactly did you and Fine meet?”

Sunflower’s horn sparked and she nearly dropped the panel. After taking a moment to make sure her hold was secure, she averted her gaze from Pinkie’s. “He didn’t tell you?” When Pinkie shook her head, Sunflower merely stared at the wall. After a couple seconds of this they started moving again. Pinkie wondered if it had been wrong of her to ask. But then, it had felt wrong of Sunflower to suggest Fine was just using Pinkie as a momentary comfort, so perhaps this made them even. The thought didn’t make Pinkie feel any less guilty.

They entered the room and set the panel by the others. Pinkie turned to leave, only for the door to close in her face. She only just caught the faint hint of orange magic. Turning around revealed Sunflower sitting on the bed and staring at her hooves, lips pursed and a lock of mane covering one eye. “What’s wrong, Sunflower?”

Biting her lip, the morose mare finally met Pinkie’s eyes. “I don’t want ponies overhearing. C-can you keep a secret?”

Pinkie instantly gained a beaming smile. “Are you kidding? Nopony is better at keeping secrets than Pinkie Pie! Why, they’re so important to me that I even came up with my very own unbreakable Pinkie Promise. Everypony in Ponyville knows: you don’t break a Pinkie Promise.” She switched to her Serious Business face. “Breaking a promise is the fastest way to lose a friend forever, and I never, ever want to lose a friend.” By the time all of that was said, Pinkie was sitting on the bed by Sunflower and squeezing her with a one-legged hug. Grin bouncing right back, she declared, “So talk away, my friend! Auntie Pinkie Pie promises to keep your secret. Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!” She paused, hoof over her eyes, and deflated slightly. “I really miss cupcakes…”

Sunflower blinked. Blinked again. She extracted herself from Pinkie’s hug and scooted away, offering her own weak smile. “Um, I’m sorry to hear that?”

“Eh, don’t be, I’ll just go on a sugar diet when this is all over.” Regaining her grin, Pinkie turned to face her companion. “So, what’s this big secret that I’ve promised to never ever reveal to another soul until the day I die or you give me permission?”

Rubbing her hooves together, Sunflower dropped her eyes to them once more and sighed. “When I was a filly, I was… h-homeless.” She hunched over a little as if expecting a blow, watching Pinkie out the corner of her eye.

Pinkie’s ears perked. “And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and?’” Sunflower threw up her hooves in apparent exasperation. “I was homeless! Most ponies I know think that’s a big deal.”

“Well, I don’t.” Pinkie shrugged and flopped back onto the bed, just for the sake of bouncing back to her sitting position. “Lots of ponies are homeless. Lots of them used to be. Hay, I used to be.”

Sunflower’s head shot up. “You… you were?”

“Yeah! After I—” Her lips froze. That was not something she wanted to confess to anypony but Fine. Hunching down in a copy of Sunflower’s earlier pose, she tapped her hooves sheepishly. “I m-mean, yeah, after my family died. I sorta just wandered Equestria for a couple years. I was seven when it started.” She regained her smile as other, better memories surfaced. “Then I met the Cakes and they took me in. But I get how hard it is, ‘cause Pinkie Pie’s been there.”

Sunflower frowned and turned to stare at the wall. “Didn’t anypony treat you differently? Aren’t you ashamed of it?”

“Why be ashamed?” Pinkie set a hoof to her shoulder. “If anything, it shows how tough you are. You were a little solitary Sunflower in the great big world garden, but you beat those odds. You’re one tough mare.” She tapped her chin as she thought back to the time before Ponyville. Not pleasant memories by any stretch of the imagination. “I suppose ponies did treat me a little differently. Many of them weren’t very nice. But that’s all behind us now.”

“I suppose.” The frown didn’t leave Sunflower, but she did lose some of the tension she’d been building up since the topic had begun. After a moment’s silence, she brushed the lock of mane from her face and turned back to Pinkie. “We’re off topic, aren’t we? You asked how I met Fine.”

“Oh, that’s right! So how did you meet him?”

Sitting back, Sunflower settled herself down as if preparing for a long story. Pinkie decided to do the same, pressing her back to the bed’s headboard like she’d sometimes seen Lyra Heartstrings do on benches. It sure didn't seem all that comfortable, but maybe if she waited for a bit that would change.

“When I was just a filly and still homeless, I lived in this park in New Clusterdam, just across the bay from Manehattan. I’d begun selling flowers and doing my magic tricks to survive.”

Pinkie perked up as she glanced at Sunflower’s flank. “Oh, is that when you got your cutie mark? Is this a cutie mark story?”

Giggling, Sunflower shook her head. “Oh, no, that wouldn’t be for another year. Anyway, I was doing that to get by, but not long before I got caught stealing food from this mean old zebra. He…” Slowly, as if a weight were being carefully set upon her, her shoulders and head slumped. “He beat me. Regularly. Threatened to kill me if I didn’t pay him back for what I stole. And after I did, he beat me some more and told me to keep making money for him. I was just a kid, I couldn’t fight him. So I took my beatings and worked extra hard to give him bits just so that I wouldn’t get beat again, though sometimes he did it anyway.”

Pinkie’s ears drooped. She got up to give Sunflower a hug. “That sounds just horrible.”

Not responding to the embrace, Sunflower muttered, “I kept reminding myself that it was better than going back to the orphanage. And in a way, it was. But I was still miserable. I got to thinking that was just my lot in life, to be a homeless bucking bag for whatever cruel jerk came along next.”

“But you got out of it.” Pinkie settled at her side and kept one hoof wrapped around Sunflower’s shoulders. “I mean, you’re here, and you don’t look all beat up.”

“Yeah.” And here Sunflower at last smiled, though it was layered in sadness. “Fine got me out. I…” Down went the smile again, this time replaced with a haunted stare at the floor. “I found one of his, um, victims. Still fresh.”

“Oh…” Pinkie didn’t have to imagine what that would be like. She shuddered before tentatively asking, “How fresh?”

“Pretty sure I interrupted him in the act.” Sunflower closed her eyes, cheeks having gone pale. “His knife was still in the body.”

“Oh, wow.” Another cold tremble ran through Pinkie’s body, this time going all the way to her hooftips. “The full experience. You’ve got my sympathies, sister, it’s never nice to see.” Only after a moment of introspection did she notice Sunflower staring at her as if she’d just pulled a knife out of her mane. It dawned on her that the mare probably hadn’t fully grasped that Pinkie and Fine were two peas in the same bloody pod. Brushing her curly mane back, she offered a feeble chuckle and looked away. “Y-yeah, I may have seen some things.”

Sunflower shifted as if she intended to move away, but stopped herself and, with a slow exhale, settled back into her spot next to Pinkie. “I’ll just accept that and move on.” She licked her lips and closed her eyes for a moment. “Alright, so… I took his knife from the body.”

Pinkie gasped. “Whoawhoawhoa! Black knife? About this long, made from something odd?” Sunflower gave a nonplussed nod. “Ooooh, boy. I bet he didn’t take that well. That knife’s his most prized of prized prizes that he ever prized.”

With a sound somewhere between a whine and a laugh, Sunflower nodded. “I figured as much. Fine stalked me for the next two weeks. I mean, I didn’t know it at the time, I found out after. Which is kinda creepy. Anyway, one night he just appeared out of nowhere, beat up that mean old jerk of a zebra, and took his knife back.”

The specific timetable caught Pinkie’s attention. Ears folding back, she hesitantly asked, “Two weeks? He, um, did he kill the zebra?”

Cocking her head slightly, Sunflower said, “No? I mean, he beat him pretty bad, but I’m pretty sure the guy lived. I didn’t see him again after that, but he was planning on leaving town that night anyway, and I lived somewhere else after.”

So no way of knowing. Perhaps Fine had let the zebra go. But… two weeks. She knew full well that his Visions had run on a two week schedule just like hers. If asked about it, would he reveal something Sunflower didn’t know? Shaking her head, she decided this was a line of questioning her current companion didn’t need to hear. “So Fine took his knife back. And then?”

At this, Sunflower’s smile came back. A sincere one, bright and cheery. “It was the only time he spoke to me. There was a young couple in town that wanted me to live with them. He talked me into giving it a try. Now I look at them as my parents.” She folded her forelegs to her chest and wriggled a little, eyes closed to accommodate her warm grin. “They became my family. And it never would have happened if he hadn’t stalked me for two weeks to get his knife back.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.” Pinkie gave her a tight hug that made the mare gasp. After a moment’s hesitation, Sunflower returned the embrace. The anxiousness within that reciprocation was patiently ignored. Once they separated, Pinkie asked, “So was that the last you heard of Fine? Did he go ‘poof’ like he normally does with a handsome grin and a wink?” It would be just like him to end things there.

“Actually… no.” Twiddling with her hooves, Sunflower closed her eyes as if to review an old memory. “I remember one more thing. I was just a filly, and he’d left a big impression on me despite only showing up once. My parents thought I had an imaginary friend I called the Shadow Pony. I would try talking to him while lying in bed, hoping he’d show up again. To this day, I couldn’t tell you if he was listening or not.

“But then, about a week later, I was working on my writing so I could be accepted to a local school. As part of the practice, and being the silly foal I was, I wrote a question for my ‘Shadow Pony’. Nothing much, just a question if he was still watching. Then I… we had supper.”

Pinkie leaned in close, knowing where this was going but still eager to know how right she was. It sounded so perfectly Fine Crime that there was no way she’d be wrong, and the thought put little warm fuzzies in her heart.

Sunflower’s smile grew as she continued. “When I came back from supper, somepony had written an answer to my question. He’d been watching me, making sure I would be okay. His answer…” a tear ran a slow path down her cheek. “He was saying goodbye. It was the last time I heard from him.”

Sitting back, Pinkie tried to imagine the scene. A little Sunflower finding Fine’s words mysteriously scribbled onto her learning board, her window opened and the curtains fluttering in the breeze. She couldn’t help but smile, just like the mare before her was. The two of them lapsed into a long silence, Pinkie wondering about how something like that might impact a filly. She wondered if Fine might come through her window someday. The idea left a tingly feeling in a place proper fillies didn’t talk about.

As if hearing an unspoken query, Sunflower spoke up. “It’s funny, y’know? I only met him once. He only directly interacted with me twice. Looking back on those two weeks, I realize some things that had happened. Sometimes I’d be on a street corner trying to sell my flowers. I’d turn around, and when I turned back I’d find my little tin can had magically earned a dozen more bits. Or there’d be a to-go box full of hot, yummy food. Just… out of nowhere. I was always so confused, and even a little scared. It was him. It had always been. I can’t prove it, but… I just know.

“One meeting.” She looked Pinkie in the eye, a calm pleasantness settled upon her. “One meeting with him turned my life around. I know he murdered ponies. I know he lead a very dark life. Even back then, I knew that. But any pony who would go out of his way to help a little homeless filly, whom he had no reason to care for, whom he’d only ever seen from the shadows… To do what he did for me? That had to be a kind, good soul.”

She toyed with the bedspread, eyes watering once more. “I’ve lived my whole life hoping that, should I ever meet him again, he’d be proud of the mare I’ve become.” Pausing, ears folding back, she glanced at Pinkie. “Do… Do you think I did okay?”

No thought was necessary, and Pinkie promptly applied another tight hug to her friend’s midsection, making Sunflower emit a cute squeak with the pressure. “Of course you did! Don’t you doubt that for even a minute. In fact, you should ask him.”

“Oh, no!” Pulling away, Sunflower frantically shook her head. “I couldn’t. I… I can’t! He might… I mean, what if he…?”

“Sunflower Sweet!” Hooves on hips, Pinkie shot her most commanding stare. “Fine Crime is the pony who put you on the road to a better life. You need to tell him what that means to you. I guarantee you, it will mean a lot to him. In fact—” she pointed at the mare, whose eyes crossed trying to stare at the appendage less than an inch from her muzzle “—when he comes back you are going to have a talk with him about it. No excuses, no buts, and no cherrychangas!”

Pushing the hoof away from her face, Sunflower asked, “Cherrychangas?”

Pinkie shrugged. “What? I’m hungry.” She smiled at the mare’s bubbling laughter. “Seriously, you two need to talk. Fine will be back any minute now, so why don’t you go have lunch together? I’ll let you have him for the day.”

“But what about you?” Sunflower stifled the last of her chuckles before meeting Pinkie’s gaze. “Isn’t this vacation all about you?”

“It’s about the both of us,” Pinkie corrected primly. “It’s as much for him as it is for me, though he’d probably argue with me because he’s a silly pony. And I get Fine all to myself lots of times. I don’t mind letting you have him for a little while.”

Twiddling with her forehooves again, Sunflower seemed to be looking for an excuse to refuse the offer. Eventually, though, she smiled and nodded. “Alright, then. If you’re sure?”

“I am. Ah!” Pinkie’s ears perked as a thought occurred to her. She raised her hoof and took on a manner of mock aggression. “But I’m obligated to warn you not to try anything, because he’s mine.” She paused to look at her hoof, frowning. “Did I do that right? I’m not really sure how the whole ‘overprotective marefriend’ thing works. Am I supposed to shout and throw things, or is that just a ‘jealous wife’ thing?”

Giggling, Sunflower waved her hooves in a playful mockery of denial. “Okay, okay. I won’t touch your stud.”

“See that you don’t.” Crossing her arms and tapping the side of her head, Pinkie frowned. “I really need to learn how to get into these roles. What if I do the wrong one?”

“I think they’ll come naturally, Pinkie.” Hopping off the bed, Sunflower stretched her hind legs and moved for the door, opening it with her magic. “We better get back to work. I’m sure Mr. Collate wants his dining room back in order before the lunch rush.” She paused in the doorway as Pinkie began to climb off the bed. “And… thanks. I haven’t been able to tell that story to anypony. It felt good to—” She paused, licked her lips, raised her leg... and left.

Pinkie watched her go, her thoughts drifting to a young Fine Crime. He’d never told her that story. Which was such a shame, because it was a good one. A revealing one. She knew Fine was a good stallion, but to know that he’d done so much for a filly like Sunflower Sweet with just one meeting? It opened her eyes to a whole new, pleasant side of Fine, a side that had existed even in the worst years of his life. He was better than she’d ever known.

A fresh warmth grew in her chest as she imagined it. Fine Crime, wretched and homeless, but still going out of his way to rescue a foal he otherwise could have left to her own misery. Now more than ever, she wanted him to be hers. That was the kind of stallion worth fighting for. She rubbed at the scar on her chest and remembered the dress under her bed.

“Soon,” she whispered. Maybe at the party?

Maybe.

Fine looked between the two mares, one grinning wider than any pony other than Pinkie Pie should and the other tracing little circles in the floor with the tip of her hoof. “You want me to do what now?”

“Spend time with Sunflower, of course!” Pinkie nudged her companion closer to Fine. Sunflower wouldn’t meet his gaze as she mumbled some indecipherable something. “I told her she can have you for the rest of the day. You two haven’t had a chance to catch up or anything.”

Sunflower finally managed to get her voice above a whisper. “Y-you don’t have to.”

“Yes, he does!” Pinkie made the pronouncement with far more pleasure than Fine felt was warranted. “Pinkamena Diane Pie demands it be so.”

Catching Sunflower’s anxious eye for but a split second, he smiled too late. “I don’t mind, I guess. But…” He looked to Pinkie expectantly. “What about you? Are we not here for your sake?”

Pinkie poked Sunflower’s side with an elbow and theater-whispered, “Told you he’d say that.” Then, to Fine and in her normal tone of voice, “I’ll be fine for one afternoon. I’ve got plenty of brand new friends here in Rockstead. Plus I need to meet any of the new friends I didn’t the last few times! I can do that plenty better on my own. No offense, Fine, but you’re draggin’ down my friendship game.” She stuck her tongue at him, waggling it playfully.

“Hey, if you’re not careful I’ll catch it.” He swiped at her with a grin, and she promptly sucked her tongue back in with a slurp. “Drat! I’ll have it for my collection, little filly, if it’s the last thing I do!”

She opened her mouth to retort, but then her eyes went wide and her cheeks gained a few extra shades of pink. Stepping back from him, she gained a smile he could only define as ‘dopey’ and waved a hoof at Sunflower. “W-well, I’ll leave you two to it. I, uh, have lots of friends to meet. And greet. And, um… yeah, gotta go!” She disappeared back upstairs in a blur.

Sunflower watched her go with eyebrows so high they were hidden under her mane. “What was that all about?”

“With Pinkie, you never know.” Chuckling, Fine turned and gestured to the front door with a flourish of his hoof. “Shall we?”

“I… guess?” She took two steps to the door, paused, glanced back at the stairs. “If she’s going to meet friends, why’d she go back upstairs?”

Fine set a hoof to her withers and gently guided her out. “Sunflower, when it comes to matters of Pinkie, you learn to stop questioning it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was already on the other side of town.”

“But she—”

“Don’t question it.”

“But—”

“Nope.”

“If I could just—”

Pinkie’s head popped out the corner of an alley on the other side of the street. “Don’t question it!” She was gone again before either of them could blink, which Sunflower certainly did. Several times.

At last she turned to a smugly smiling Fine Crime. “And she’s always doing things like this?”

He nodded and started walking down the street. “Always. Twilight Sparkle herself tried to figure out how she does it and failed miserably. You learn that it’s better to leave it alone. Some things mere mortal ponies were not meant to grasp.”

She nodded slowly. “Riiiight.” She looked around the street before refocusing her attention on him. “So where are we going?”

“That… is a good question.” He paused in the middle of the road, glancing around with no idea what he was looking for. “Lunch? Is there someplace you like to go?”

They shared nonplussed looks, but then Sunflower’s ears perked. “You know what? Yeah, there is someplace I’d like to go. Come on.” She started off at a trot. Seeing no reason to argue, Fine followed.

He faced a dilemma. Or maybe it was a sense of guilt? He was in Rockstead for Pinkie’s sake, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that not spending every day here with her was counterproductive to their intended goal. Yet he also understood that Pinkie was right: he would like to catch up with Sunflower. And yet again that produced a whole new problem, as he’d promised himself long ago that he would never get involved with Sunflower’s life. He wasn’t supposed to be interacting with her.

He wasn’t a Bloodmane anymore though. Did that mean his promise no longer mattered?

“You’re being awfully quiet.”

Shaking his head to clear it of stray thoughts, Fine moved to catch up with Sunflower, though he let her maintain the slightest lead at his side. “Sorry, I don’t mean to give you the cold shoulder or anything. I’m just…”

She glanced at him out the corner of her eye. “Anxious?”

“Yeah.”

She led him down a side street full of townsponies going about their business, which at this hour undoubtedly meant lunch. Fine felt a momentary twitch of agitation at there being so many ponies around, but he squashed the urge to head for a shadowy spot to keep hidden. He’d grown a lot better at that in the last year. Pinkie, Twilight, Nye, and Fluttershy had all helped in that regard. Still, he couldn’t resist looking out over the crowd in search of the best places to start hiding.

Sunflower watched him, her ears folding flat against her head as his tail lashed. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be okay,” he answer, a little more terse than he intended. “I’m still getting used to crowds.”

“Oh.” Her head sank a little. “Should I have taken another route?”

His head swiveled to the other side of the street as he catalogued small details and potential escape routes. “I have to learn to get used to it. It’s nothing you should fret over.” He grimaced at his own tone, only to realize how his face must look just then. Fighting to return it to some semblance of neutrality, he looked to Sunflower. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Paying no mind to the grumbling ponies walking around them, she stopped to look around the street. “This way.”

Fine followed her into a nearby passage between two restaurants, where traffic dropped considerably. “Better?” she asked, not pausing to look back.

With a long exhale, he nodded. “Much.” He waited for her to ask the obvious questions, answers on the tip of his tongue. Yet the queries never came. Sunflower led him into a separate street, a quieter one, but said not a word. He couldn’t help wondering why not. Was she not interested?

He watched her attentively for some time, taking in the details of her motions. There was a hurry to her manner, her steps just a little faster than necessary, and her tail twitched as if she were trying to keep it from lashing. Her ears remained folded down, and every now and then she’d glance back as if aware of his eyes on her. Anxious then.

Should he be anxious as well? True, this was his first real chance to talk to her alone in nearly two decades. The last time he’d seen her, she was but a little filly crying for fear of being sent back to an orphanage. He smiled at the memory, recalling that moment when her new parents whispered warm reassurances that they would never make her go back. Where were those two, anyway? He’d made it a point not to learn about Sunflower and her family, but seeing the young mare she’d become, curiosity was beginning to eat at him.

But only curiosity. Their anxiety only went one way, it seemed. He contented himself with merely following her lead, not wanting to goad her into talking until she wanted to. He had a feeling Pinkie might have pushed her into this before she was ready.

To his mild surprise, she ended up bringing him back to the park and that stage where he’d first bumped into her. Her wagon sat behind the platform, nestled under the shade of some pine trees. Its roof had already accumulated quite a few green needles and pinecones. What where they doing here?

She walked up the small ramp at the back of the wagon, which was designed to fold up when in motion. Pausing with a hoof on the door, she pursed her lips and glanced back at him. Her cheeks gained a few extra shades of pink as she mumbled to herself, tail lashing a little harder than before. After a few seconds of this, she sighed, shook her head, and pulled the door open. “Please, come on in. Um, don’t mind the mess. Or, uh, lack of space. I don’t get a lot of visitors.”

Cocking his head, Fine glanced back at the park, though he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Then he poked his head inside the wagon after her. She wasn’t kidding about it being cramped. The front of the wagon – the back wall from his perspective – was made up entirely of shelves and drawers that appeared to consist of nothing save supplies for her magic acts. Wands, a couple top hats, assorted ribbons and bows, a deck of cards, a rapier in a display case, the list went on, all of it packed tightly together in a manner to save the maximum amount of space.

A hammock was tied to the left wall, and he quickly noted the hook on the right that would hold it properly when Sunflower was to use it at night. A basin was built into one wall beneath a tiny mirror, around which a smattering of cheap beauty and hygiene products could be found. Next to it sat a small counter with a gas stove, clearly custom made from what may or may not have been spare parts, and beside that was a cabinet undoubtedly for holding foodstuffs.

The rest of the wagon was full of assorted knickknacks and mementos from all over Equestria, ranging from Las Pegasus posters to a tiny replica of the Statue of Harmony. There was just enough space left over for a pony to walk through the wagon and, with a little flexible maneuvering, turn around. Sunflower busied herself with getting a pair of pillows out, presumably one being for him. She fussed over their threadbare state, grabbing a green-and-white quilt decorated with hummingbirds to cover them both. Then she looked between him and the stove a few times before groaning. “I should have let you come in first.”

Smiling for her, he stepped back out. “It’s not a problem. Come to the door?”

Her ears folded back yet again, but she tentatively did as asked. “I know it’s not much to look at, b-but…”

He waved a silencing hoof, hoping that his expression soothed. “That’s not what I’m saying. I just need a little extra room to do…” A flash of his horn and a bit of smoke later, he was behind and facing her from within the wagon. “This.”

Her head whipped around, somehow managing not to smack into a model of Cloudsdale’s cloudisseum hanging from the ceiling. “Wha— whoa! Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Self-taught, if you’ll believe it.” He took extreme care stepped backwards to the pillow she’d laid out for him, wary of accidentally stepping on or bumping into anything. “Took me a couple years to figure it out. May I?”

“May you… Oh, yes, go ahead!” She tittered, face flushed, and reared back enough to let her turn and face him again. She had to fold her legs tight against her chest to make the maneuver work, but she did it with the ease of long practice. “I know it’s not fancy eating, but I was gonna make us some sandwiches.” Her eyes went wide and she flopped to her haunches. “I m-mean if that’s okay. If you’d rather go to a restaurant or a café o-or anything, I’m good with that too. Do you even like sandwiches? I bet you don’t like sandwiches. Oh, this was a bad idea, wasn’t it?”

The poor thing sounded like Twilight Sparkle before a quiz. Settling down on his pillow and trying to appear as nonthreatening as he could manage, he said, “Sandwiches sound nice. You make them often?”

Sunflower went from nearly melting into the wooden floor to sitting up tall with a beaming smile. “Of course I do! A travelling mare like myself has to rely on the simple stuff.” Another blush made the rounds through her cheeks as she ran a hoof through her mane and averted her eyes. “Simple is alright, right?”

“Sunflower.” Fine waited until she met his gaze again, which took nearly a minute of mumbling and lip-chewing. He maintained his patient smile the entire time. “Please, don’t think you have to impress me. Just do what you want. I promise, there’s nothing you can do that might offend me.”

“It’s not… hold on.” She stood, caught her lashing tail in her magic, and promptly sat on top of it. “There. I swear, someday it’s gonna destroy my collection.” Her smile was stretched a little to wide, but only for a moment. Deflating a little, she scuffed the floor. Quietly, she said, “I wanted to leave the best impression.”

He leaned forward a little. “You don’t need to.”

“Do, too.” She sat up once more and gestured to their surroundings. “Look at this. Look at all of it.”

He did, letting his eyes wander. They bounced from a Canterlot snow globe to a Hallow Shades black oak wood carving of Princess Luna, then to a poster of a show on Bridleway. “It looks like you’ve been around.” He barely managed to keep from frowning as a new thought came to mind: what if she’d been searching for him all this time?

“I have. All over Equestria.” She picked up a small doll from a nearby shelf, which was dressed in a traditional buffalo ceremonial cloak. “North, South, East, West. It hasn’t been the most glamorous life. I’m not rich or famous, but I am comfortable, and I love what I do. It’s a good life, at least by my standards.”

His worries faded the more he listened. This didn’t sound like a mare desperately searching for some idol figure, much to his relief. “It’s good to know you’ve done so well for yourself.”

She beamed at him and set the doll aside. “I have, and that never would have happened if you hadn’t appeared that night. Without that intervention?” She shuddered. “I’d have probably been found floating in the bay before I hit ten.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said. “You were a tenacious kid. You might have done alright.”

Her lips fell into a dark scowl. “As if that zebra would have let me live that night. You know as well as I do how bad he was.”

In truth, he probably knew better than she did. Not that he’d say that to the pony who’d been on the receiving end of Baba Groot’s brutality. A nod would suffice.

“So, that being said…” She rested her hoof on the stove and bowed her head a little. “I really want this to go well. I owe my entire existence to you. I wanted you to see that I’ve been living my life as well as I can, and if there’s any way I can return the favor tenfold, I’ll do it. That’s why I brought you here, but now that you’re in my home?” She sighed and removed her hoof from the stove. “Sandwiches seems like such a paltry way to say ‘thank you.’”

“Paltry?” He shook his head with a light chuckle. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

She cocked a dubious eyebrow. “Really? I mean, we’re talking about sandwiches.”

“Clearly you’ve never eaten a sandwich made by a dragon.” Her other eyebrow shot up, prompting him to add, “A baby dragon, that is.”

“Uh-huh. You lead an exciting life, don’t you?”

“Exciting?” He rubbed his chin as he considered the thought. “I suppose I do. I should probably cut back on that. Not as young and spry as I used to be.”

She chuckled, which made him smile, and then she looked to the stove again. “My food’s not exactly a gourmet experience, but if you’re really okay with it…?”

“That would be—” He started to perform a flamboyant bow, but had to stop when his hoof whacked a stack of books on a shelf. Scrambling to keep it from falling with his magic, he offered her a sheepish grin. “Ahem. Yes, I’d love to enjoy your cooking. Thank you, Sunflower.”

Giggling, she turned to open her cabinet, using her magic to pull out ingredients. “Alright then, I’ll try my best!” She set to work with gusto, humming to herself as bits of lettuce, tomato, and other assorted things flew through the air in a small storm around her head. She lit the stove with a match before setting to work on cutting the cheese. “Anything you absolutely don’t want on yours?”

“Pickles.” He shuddered at the thought of the little monstrosities on his tongue. “It’s like they were crafted by Discord personally for the express purpose of being disgusting.”

Laughing, Sunflower set aside a jar of the nasty things. “I guess even heroes are permitted to have bad taste.”

“My taste is just fine,” he declared with faux haughtiness, muzzle raised high and arms crossed. “It’s the rest of the world that’s insane.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

He watched her work on the sandwiches, her motions quick and precise. Clearly, this was a staple meal for her. Before too long she’d pulled out a pan just large enough for her to cook two of them at a time and set it atop the fire. She kept on humming in the silence, becoming completely engrossed in her efforts. Her work included a number of additions, spices and herbs and even a couple slices of apple being thrown in the mix, all of it set between two layers of a white cheese.

“I don’t get to cook for ponies very often.” She spoke quietly, as if more to herself than to him. “That’s not to say I don’t have friends out there, but I’m more likely to be the one invited to lunch than the one doing the inviting. It’s… nice, having a guest every now and then.” Her manner was reflective, but not sad.

When the quiet lingered for long enough to make clear she wasn’t going to say more, Fine asked, “And what do your parents think of this wandering lifestyle you’ve taken up?”

She shrugged, not taking her eyes from the sizzling culinary creations before her. “They’re supportive. On the condition I come home to visit every three months or so, that is. Mom worries, and Dad worries about her worrying. Letters aren’t enough. Still, they told me long ago: if this was the life I wanted to lead, I should pursue it with all my energy. I haven’t regretted it.”

Fine smiled, feeling vindicated in having left her with that young couple he’d bumped into a few times in New Clusterdam. He settled back and scanned the wagon once more, if only for the sake of passing the time. The lull in conversation was filled with the crackle and pop of buttered bread in the pan as Sunflower deftly flipped the sandwiches. Fine had to admit, it was nice to know that she’d come so far. One element of his past he no longer had to look back on and wonder about.

“So. You and Pinkie. Is it serious?”

Pulling his gaze from the small zebra mask leaning against a similarly sized crystal obelisk, he felt the first hints of a blush creep into his cheeks. “Um… yes?”

She perked an ear his way, but otherwise didn’t stop watching the sandwiches. “That didn’t sound very confident.”

With a low groan, he set a fetlock over his muzzle to hide her from his sight. “I know it didn’t. This isn’t exactly my area of expertise.”

“‘Area of expertise?’ Nobody should be an expert at dating, Fine. If they were, I’d have to question their motives.”

“So I misspoke.” Lowering his hoof back to the floor, he grumbled, “I’ve zero experience. Better?”

“Much.” She shot him a brief smirk before pulling out some stone plates with her magic. “Don’t worry, soldier. She’s head over hooves.”

“You don’t say.”

Her smile faded. As she passed a plate to him, which he took in his magic, she said, “I thought that would cheer you up. Don’t you like Pinkie?”

“I certainly feel something for her.” He stared at his sandwich, the cheese oozing out the sides over a delectable-looking mix of vegetables and spices. “Sometimes I want to grab her and tell her she’ll never want for anything again, that I’ll protect her from the nightmares forever.”

When she added nothing to that, he glanced up. Sunflower was watching him with concern and uncertainty in her eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, she asked, “Then what’s the problem?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure that there is a problem. It’s just that… well, the one and only time I opened up to a mare, I ended up possessed by a demon and hating myself. No, that’s not an exaggeration.” Picking up his sandwich, he took a big bite. It was every bit as tasty as it looked. He chewed slowly, savoring the flavors before swallowing. “Very good.”

Ignoring the compliment, sandwich hovering just before her lips, Sunflower finally managed to blurt out, “You got possessed by a demon?”

Closing his eyes only invited the memory of Pinkie’s pleading, pain-filled face, so he opened them and stared at his meal some more. “I turned Pinkie into a kabob. I… I tortured her. I’ve had many harrowing experiences in my life, but I don’t think any will stick with me quite like that one. And it wasn’t even the first time. Sometimes I think I should keep away from her for her safety, but she keeps pulling me back in, and I keep letting her.”

Sunflower continued to stare. She took a slow bite of her sandwich, not taking her wide eyes off him the entire time she chewed. After finally swallowing, she asked, “I thought you said you weren’t doing that kind of thing anymore?”

Her fretful tone broke through his melancholy enough to bring a light chuckle out of his throat. “They were extremely unusual circumstances. If you ever meet a thestral, ask him about it. I’m sure the story has spread across all the tribes by now.”

“I swear to Celestia, every word you utter makes me wonder more and more about how much you’ve seen. I think it’s time I stopped questioning it.” She shook her head, devoured some more of her sandwich, then asked, “Were you in control of your actions, and does she blame you?”

“You’re not going to get any easy or straightforward answers to these questions.” He managed a lopsided smile for her. “There’s nothing about our relationship that could be called ‘simple’. To sum up the situation, I know she likes me, and I definitely have come to like her. I just don’t know if I… deserve her.” Bowing his head, he muttered, “I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I’m not sure if being with me is good for her.”

Another of those long, unpleasant silences passed between them. Fine didn’t let his lack of an appetite stop him from eating. The motions provided at least some distraction from his dark thoughts. And besides, even in his current miasma, Sunflower made a good sandwich.

At last, she spoke up. “I don’t know all the details, but I’m pretty sure Pinkie thinks you’re worthy.” She offered him a smile, and he had to admit it made him feel a little better. “You should tell her how you feel. The good parts and the bad. I’m sure she’ll hear you out. It’ll probably go a lot better than you think.”

He returned the expression, though his melancholy hadn’t quite lifted. By now he was sure Pinkie would hold nothing against him. In a way, her approval wasn’t what he really needed. This whole affair demanded his approval too, and that meant he had to believe the risk to her life was worth it. He’d already butchered the poor mare twice. Luna preserve him if there came a third time.

But Sunflower didn’t need to hear all that. She’d find more ways to spin his situation in a positive direction. Her intention was appreciated, but her methods would achieve nothing in the overall scheme of things. No… better to let her think she was helping and end this line of discussion. Everypony would… potentially be happier this way. “Thanks, Sunflower. I think I needed to hear that.”

Sunflower raised an eyebrow, then shook her head in apparent disdain. “You just tried to brush me off.”

Fine felt his jaw drop as the gears in his head came to a crunching halt. “W-what?”

She shrugged, setting her empty plate aside. “It’s totally the ‘stallion’ thing to do, so I don’t blame you for the attempt, but you’re not getting me off topic that easily.”

Was he really that obvious? How? “That’s not… I mean, it wasn’t my intention to—”

“The good news,” she declared primly, mowing right over his attempts at a denial, “is that I now know just how serious you are about this. Face it, Fine, you need help, and seeing as I owe you big time I’m more than willing to be that help.”

What did she mean, it was the ‘stallion’ thing to do? And why was she so hung up on making sure Pinkie and he got together? “Sunflower, I don’t think—”

“No.” She pointed a hoof at him, expression deadpan. “You don’t.”

He closed his mouth, slowly and deliberately. Trying to come up with some kind of counter to her was proving a challenge. Did he want her help? Was there any reason not to get it? Yes, her name’s Pinkie, and you may end up killing her next time. He shook off that voice in his head and rubbed his mane back with a groan. “I’m not sure you can help. I’m supposed to be spending most of my time with Pinkie.”

“You let me worry about that.” Sunflower crossed her arms and continued to study him like a teacher observing a misbehaving student. “We’ve got today, and I’ve got you cornered. We’re not leaving this wagon until I’ve done all I can to help you out.”

It took a significant amount of willpower not to teleport out of the wagon just to prove a point. Instead, he asked, “Do you really expect me to believe that this is a problem that can be resolved just by talking about it?”

To which she instantly fired back, “Do you really believe it’s not?”

They exchanged hard looks. That lasted for all of five seconds before Fine chuckled and eased back on his pillow. “You haven’t lost any of that tenacity, I see.”

“Ponies tell me it’s one of my best traits.” Sunflower rubbed a hoof against her chest and examined it in a bored manner. “Or one of my most frustrating. Depends on the pony.” Then she grinned and leaned closer. “So are you gonna keep arguing with me, or am I gonna have to show you my rope trick?”

“I might want to see the ‘rope trick’ anyway,” he replied, but then raised his hooves in defeat. “Seriously, I don’t think there’s anything you can do. But Pinkie did tell me I should spend all day with you, and if this is what you want to do with the time, I suppose I’ll suffer through it.” He maintained a lopsided smile to let her know the disdain was exaggerated.

“Don’t act too excited, now.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and the two shared a giggle. “Okay, now that I’ve got you properly complacent—”

“Properly complacent?”

“—let’s start with you relating to me all the biggest moments in your relationship.”

Doubts returning in the form of moths in the stomach, he asked, “All the moments? There’s some pretty ugly stuff.”

She flinched and fidgeted. “You, uh, don’t have to tell me anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

He reached up to tap the knife that wasn’t hanging from his chest. Its absence did nothing to quell the moth storm. “No, no, it’s okay. I just don’t know how, uh, detailed you want me to get.”

“As detailed as you’re willing to. Just…” She hesitated, but managed to meet his eye. “Go easy on the torture bits?”

Her wavering confidence did little for his faith in this endeavor. Yet as his thoughts drifted to Pinkie, he wondered if it might be worth it. He did need the help, and while Sunflower was unlikely to really do that for him, he’d take what he could get. At the very least, opening up about his worries to somepony might ease his nerves surrounding the matter.

For Pinkie, he would at least try. Sitting up tall once more, he caught Sunflower’s eye with a quick gesture. “Alright, basics first. How much do you know about Bloodmanes?”

Day 7

Fine sat outside the Rock Bottom Inn, watching the ponies pass by and thinking about yesterday’s conversation with Sunflower. The young mare had been insistent about helping, and also insistent that Pinkie was in love with him. Which was… odd. How was he supposed to react? Excited? Nervous? Afraid? A little of everything? A little of everything seemed appropriate right now. He kept trying to think of other things, but his mind kept running in circles around that peculiar pink pony. What if Pinkie wasn’t in love? What if it was just an infatuation? Worse, what if he was just using her infatuation to get over his failure with Fluttershy?

Okay, that last one was stupid. He knew it wasn’t true. He had been crushed by Fluttershy’s rejection – which, in hindsight, had come for entirely justifiable reasons he’d have recognized himself had he not been so obsessed with the idea of his first-ever romance. But it had been months since then, and he no longer felt that ache when he considered the pegasus. Pinkie was…

What was Pinkie? Now there was a question with way more potential answers and meanings than it seemed. The thought made him chuckle. She was so many things. A little wild, a little too happy, but smarter than most ponies thought. Deeper, too. A living embodiment of Joy, with all the positives and negatives that entailed. And yet…

Luna’s letter came to mind. He’d not said anything about it since their little argument near her family home. And yet why else would she be sleeping in today? The nightmares continued. He’d not done a thing to help with them. Wasn’t even sure where to begin. Sunflower had mentioned something about being supportive of Pinkie. He liked to think he was, and she didn’t know about the nightmares, but perhaps that was one of the things she’d meant. In a roundabout way. Maybe.

Not that he hadn’t intended to help her, of course. If only he knew what had her whimpering at night. Yes, he’d seen it. Just that morning he peeked in and found her kicking her hind legs and muttering frightened squeaks. He’d almost woken her up. Was it better to let her sleep and maybe get some rest? He knew how nightmares could prevent that, but at least she was sleeping at all. Why couldn’t Luna have given him some instructions?

“Um, excuse me?”

Tomorrow was the party. Pinkie needed her rest. They’d already agreed not to go to her place today, although he’d had to badger her about it for a while.

“Sir?”

They’d go on Sunday. Pinkie had demanded it in return for this ‘off day’, as she’d called it. Why did he keep wiff-waffing on whether to hurry this along or not?

“Hello?”

A hoof swayed in front of his face, pulling him out of his thoughts. He found himself standing before two mares and a stallion and almost reared back in alarm! How could he have let civilians sneak up on him? By Luna, he was in even deeper than he’d thought if he could let that happen.

Somehow managing to keep his reaction to a mere backstep, he pulled himself out of his thoughts and focused on the black-coated mare who had waved her hoof at him. A short, chubby thing, she had a lovely pink mane a few shades darker than Pinkie’s, cut short and left wild. “Um, sorry. Hello… yes?” Fine shook his head to get the cobwebs out. “Start again?”

The mares tittered. The stallion was looking at him as if wondering how much alcohol he’d imbibed this morning. Fine didn’t blame them in the least. Chuckling and running a hoof through his red mane, he said, “Sorry, I was lost in my own world there. Was there something you three needed?”

“Indeed.” The other mare, a pale orange earth pony sporting glasses and a green mane tied in pigtails, stepped forward. “We heard that… uh…” She paused to eye him from hoof to mane, an anxious smile on her face. “Sorry, this might sound weird. But do you know a pink pony? Like, really pink?”

“So pink it’s even in her name,” the red stallion declared.

They knew Pinkie? They might be some of her new ‘friends’ she met while roaming town yesterday. But still… “What makes you think I do?”

“Oh, he doesn’t know. He’s the wrong one, we got the wrong one.” The orange mare shuffled back from him as if she’d just disturbed a beehive and expected to be stung at any second.

“Relax, C-Roy.” The black mare stopped her friend with a hoof to her back. “He’s just being cautious.” Then, to Fine, “We heard rumor that a stallion matching your description was wandering the town with her. They said you two were staying here.”

So they hadn’t actually seen Pinkie around, only heard rumors? He imagined the odds of Pinkie missing them weren’t that low. Old friends, perhaps? That thought spurred a fresh pleasure in him. Old friends might be able to cheer her up! The way she’d talked, he wasn’t sure she’d even had any around here when she was a filly, and nopony had seemed to recognize her. This was good news, it had to be. Settling back on his haunches, he asked, “Alright, I’ll bite. I take it you three know Pinkie Pie.”

A trio of gasps burst from the ponies, their collective eyes lighting up in unison. C-Roy gained a whole new level of enthusiasm as she reared up and kicked her forelegs. “He knows Pinkamena! Pinkie’s alive!”

“Where is she?” The stallion moved closer, sporting a cheek-splitting grin. “Can we see her? Where’s she been all this time?”

“Why’d she come home?” The black mare was no less eager. “Does she have a job? A family?”

C-Roy pushed in between them. “Are you her coltfriend? Or—” A gasp that had to have been intentionally theatrical escaped her. “Her husband?”

Fine couldn’t help but laugh at that last one. “Calm down! Pinkie’s sleeping in today, but I’d be happy to keep you three company until she comes down. The name’s Fine Crime.”

The stallion cocked his head with a look of distaste. “Fine Crime? What, did your parents want you to get caught or something? Hey!” He glowered at the black mare who had just whacked him on the back of the head. “What was that for?”

“For asking stupid questions.” Turning her attention to Fine, she offered a warm smile. “I’m Tine Oscillation. I know, it’s a mouthful. Ponies just call me ‘Scilla’ for short.” She pointed to the orange mare. “That’s my cousin Corduroy Cotton, but we all call her C-Roy.” C-Roy was too busy scanning the windows over their heads to notice the introduction, perhaps trying to guess which room was Pinkie’s. Scilla patted the still-scowling stallion on the back. “And this here’s Picklestone. PS for short.”

“Ah-ha.” Fine examined each in turn. Noting Scilla’s cutie mark was a tuning fork hovering over a ruby, he pointed to her and said, “Geological Engineer.” Then he pointed to C-Roy, noting her cutie mark of three threads weaving into a rope. “Ropemaker? Maybe something involving clothing.” Then he pointed to PS, “Chef with a specialty for pickles? Or maybe a pickle farmer?”

“Well, you got me down,” Scilla admitted. “I’m the geologist for one of the mines here. C-Roy, the stallion’s asking what you do.”

C-Roy paused in her inspection of the inn to blink at them owlishly behind her glasses. “What? Oh. I’m a Civil Engineer. I mostly design railroads.” Her eyes went back to the windows. “I wonder if Pinkie went into engineering? She was always kind of smart in her own crazy way.”

“Yeah, probably making a doomsday device,” PS added with a chuckle. “You got me part-right. I don’t grow crops or cook food, but I do preserve food. Pickling, jarring, canning, that kinda thing. It’s not anything as impressive as ‘geologist’ or ‘civil engineer’, but it makes me happy.”

“And that’s all that matters,” Scilla primly decreed.

All eyes turned to Fine, and it only took him a second to figure out the unspoken query. Deciding that sticking to his go-to half-honest answer was best for now, he said, “I’m an advisor and liaison for Princess Luna.”

“No way. You’re joking.” PS pointed at Fine while looking at the mares. “He’s joking with us.”

Suddenly C-Roy was in Fine’s face. “You work for Princess Luna? Oh, she’s only the coolest princess ever! What’s she like, is she as commanding and pretty and ominous as they say? Do the aristocrats in Canterlot cower in terror when she so much as looks at them? Could you get her to visit me in my dreams?”

“Whoa! Down, girl.” Scilla bit onto C-Roy’s tail and dragged her away from Fine’s personal space. Spitting out the tail and a few stray green hairs too, she said, “I doubt he can contact her on a whim.” Fine decided it would be better not to correct her, just in case C-Roy chose to badger him about it.

“Pinkie’s alive.”

Now the attention turned to PS, who was staring at his hooves. Or perhaps something else beyond his hooves. “She’s… she’s alive.”

The mares exchanged worried looks before moving to either side of him, pressing in close. He kept muttering to himself, and Fine thought he heard smattering of phrases like “can’t believe it” and “given up.”

Fine watched this with a heavy feeling in his heart. Pinkie had once told him that she’d left home without telling anypony. Given the circumstances, it would be understandable if they’d come to think she was dead. They’d want explanations, and he couldn’t blame them for that. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering if he shouldn’t have woken her after all. “I guess you all knew her when she was little.”

“We were friends,” Scilla said, still watching PS with concern. “We all lived out in the farmlands, so we were like neighbors.”

“There weren’t a lot of other foals out there,” C-Roy added. “So we kind of formed our own little clique out of necessity.”

“When we learned about her family, we just assumed…” Scilla bit her lip and shook her head, nuzzling PS when he shivered between them. For a moment, the ponies were silent as gloomy thoughts passed over them.

“Gloomy thoughts? Who said anything about gloomy thoughts?” Pinkie caught Fine in a faux-stranglehold and looked him in the eye, her tone a mockery of threat. “What’s the big idea, letting me sleep in when there are ponies thinking gloomy thoughts and in need of laughter?”

Fine shifted and twisted, attempting to regain his balance and trying not to think about how close they suddenly were. “I didn’t know they were gonna show up. Might I add this is really uncomfortable?”

Only then did she notice the three ponies staring at her. Releasing Fine – he promptly fell to the ground in a heap – she said, “Oh, hey, guys!” A beat. “Wait, have we met before?”

“Pinkie Pie!”

“Whoa!” The three ponies dogpiled her in their rush and they collapsed in a pile of hugging pony.

“You’re alive, you’re really alive!”

“Where in Equestria have you been, you stupid filly?”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were leaving?”

The questions piled on just as fast as the ponies had. Pinkie flailed uselessly, managing to wave a hoof at Fine as he was starting to stand up. “F-Fine, help, I’ve been glombushed, which is like a friendlier kind of ambush!” As the visitors broke out into laughter, she asked, “Seriously, who are you ponies?”

Somehow, PS managed to escape the pile of limbs. Shaking and brushing back his mane, he said, “Pinkie, it’s us, your friends! Don’t you remember?”

At last freed from her huggy imprisonment, Pinkie stood up and examined the three ponies with a hoof to her chin and tongue sticking out the side of her mouth. A few seconds passed before her eyes went wide. “No way. PS? Scilly? Cotton?”

“Yes, Pinkie.” Scilla took her hoof in both of hers, tears building in her eyes. “It’s us.”

Settling on her haunches, ears folded back, Pinkie took in their smiles one at a time. With a quiet, uncertain voice, she asked, “You remembered me?”

“Of course we remember you.” Scilla clapped her hooves and gave a little bounce. “How could we forget our Pinkie Pie?”

“And you remembered us!” PS did a little jig, tail swishing with his swaying hips.

“But… I…” Pinkie turned to Fine, her eyes teary.

He waved his hooves in denial. “Don’t look at me, they just showed up out of nowhere.”

C-Roy twirled her hooves about one another as she asked, “Where have you been? We were afraid you’d…”

“Hey, that’s right!” PS thrust a hoof at Pinkie. “You disappeared on us. We’re supposed to be mad at you. We all agreed we would be. Except it’s kinda hard to be mad when we’re so excited to see you not dead, so we’ll be mad later.”

Hunching a little lower, eyes on her hooves, Pinkie shuffled in place. “I’m sorry. I had to get away. I c-couldn’t...”

Fine set a hoof to her shoulder but said nothing. The three visitors exchanged alarmed looks before Scilla stepped forward. “It’s okay, Pinkie. We wouldn’t want to stick around either after what happened.”

Pinkie’s head shot up. She went a shade paler as she whispered, “You know?”

“Everypony knows.” PS rubbed his hind legs together and looked away. “I mean, we don’t know know, but…”

“They found your parents and grandmother,” Scilla finished for him, keeping her words gentle. It almost sounded like she was trying to calm a child. “They discovered Limestone the next day. When they couldn’t find you, we all feared the worst.” She came forward to press her forehead to Pinkie’s. “The three of us always hoped, but until now that’s all it was.”

Closing her eyes, Pinkie took a long, deep breath. Slowly, she reached up to hug Scilla close. She said nothing, and soon the other two joined in on the embrace.

Fine wondered if he should be witnessing this. It seemed like such a private thing. He stepped away, but kept close enough to be able to listen in. If she didn’t encourage him to stay, then—

“Is that your coltfriend?”

The reactions were wildly different, from Pinkie’s relieved laughter to PS rolling his eyes. C-Roy looked like she wanted to knock Scilla on the back of the head for her inquiry. Scilla herself just looked comforted at the sound of the laughter, even as her eyes locked on Fine as if to say ‘Don’t you go anywhere.’

“We missed out on almost two decades of Pinkie Pie,” C-Roy said, not bothering to mask her annoyance, “and that’s what you want to know?”

“Hey, we did miss out on almost two decades,” Scilla countered, not taking her eyes off Fine. He felt uncomfortably in the spotlight. “And what’s more important to catch up on than the love life?”

Recovering her smile, Pinkie looked to Fine to ask, “Why do ponies always ask that first? Do we simply have a ‘couple’ look?”

Up until that point Fine’s mind had been locked up in similar thoughts. Hearing her ask the same things he was thinking made him chuckle. “Maybe we do. Dark rogue and the bright mare? Maybe it’s a match made in Elysium.”

Scilla waggled her eyebrows and elbowed Pinkie in the chest. “Oh, is that a confession?”

Fine’s mind kicked into overdrive, for it instantly recognized a decision that needed to be made. Pinkie would hesitate, but he’d been thinking ever since his conversation with Sunflower yesterday. He could end the confusion right now and make a clear announcement, something Pinkie would undoubtedly recognize. But if he did, it would indicate a step forward, that dangerous move that the two of them had been tip-toeing around for months.

Sunflower had tried to explain to him that this constant uncertainty in their relationship was unhealthy for it. He knew she was right. If one of them didn’t make a move… Pinkie’s mouth was opening. Her eyes were full of doubt, her posture slightly hunched, her ears not quite moving back but clearly wanting to. He knew what she’d say, knew because they’d both been saying it for so long. They couldn’t keep saying it forever. And, Fine decided, they wouldn’t.

“Yes, it is.”

For a few seconds that seemed like forever, the words of Pinkie’s friends didn’t exist. All Fine saw was Pinkie’s pupils shrinking to pinpricks, her mouth frozen mid-word. Gradually, ever so gradually, she turned her head to get those microscopic pupils to the corner of her eyes, meeting his. He made sure that when their gazes met, his straight on and hers shying at the edges, that the suggested meaning in that statement was clear. Her face barely moved, yet in those little flexes and twitches raged a hurricane of emotions: surprise, wonder, confusion, fear… and finally settling on a timid, subtle happiness.

And then PS was in between them, poking Fine in the chest and taking on a scowl that was far too deep to be legitimate. “Alright, you! I know we haven’t had Pinkie around in ages, but she’s still our foalhood friend, so I’m obligated to make damn sure you’ll treat her right.”

I’m not sure I can.

Brushing away that one disturbing thought, Fine met the scowl with a smile. “My friend, ignoring that I work for the Princess of High Standards and live in a mansion, there’s an entire town that would be in line ahead of you to kick my flank if I ever so much as looked at Pinkie in the wrong way.”

PS took this in, suddenly not standing so solidly, then took a deliberate step backwards. “I think that’s fair enough.”

“Ignoring the machismo on display,” Scilla said, prompting a chuckle from everypony present, “what town might that be?”

“Oh, I live in Ponyville now.” At last regaining her full energy – seeing that big smile particularly warmed Fine’s heart – Pinkie began to bounce in place. “It’s a wonderful place full of wonderful ponies and I work there as a baker and everypony is my friend! If you ever come by you gotta visit me at Sugarcube Corner so I can hold a big party for all of you and—” she froze midair and let out a gasp so big Fine swore he could see the wind entering her mouth “—the party! Oh my gosh you three totally have to come to my party here at the inn tomorrow it’s going to be awesome and I’ve got a magician and there’ll be music and games and streamers and fireworks if I can convince Sunflower to have them but seriously aren’t magician ponies supposed to have fireworks come on guys you gotta support me on this one what’s a magician without fireworks and there’ll be cake and cupcakes and punch and I might get a little jealous because I can’t eat the cakes and cupcakes but that’s okay as long as everypony in town comes and gets to be my friends and you all have to come so we can all have fun, fun, fun together!”

She hovered over the staring ponies for a few seconds, wide eyes locked onto Scilla’s. Then she finally sucked in a breath and plummeted to earth, landing on her back and sucking down sharp breaths.

Fine stepped forward before the others could get a word in or move to help. “Don’t worry, folks. She does this kind of thing all the time. Right, Pinkie?”

Pinkie waggled both forehooves in the air. “Yeah.” Huff. “All the time.” Wheeze. “I think that one—” Pant “—might have been a—” Gasp “—new record.”

“Well,” Scilla said with a shake of her head, “she’s about as weird as I remember.”

“The term you’re looking for,” Fine said with a grin, “is so random.” What he left unsaid was how incredibly good it felt to see Pinkie back in her element. To know she could still get up to her old hijinks… How strange that something so unnatural and unexplainable was so paramount to making the world feel ‘normal.’

It struck him then that he’d missed her sillier side. She’d toned it down significantly ever since Tidal. Now that he got a fresh dose of it, it felt as if everything was going to be alright. He… liked her goofiness. He wanted more of it. Pinkie Pie without that extra bit of nonsense was no Pinkie Pie at all, and only now did he realize that he wanted the full package. In controlled doses, perhaps, but the whole package nonetheless.

The warmth within him faded, however, when he turned back to her. He was just in time to see her sit up. Then, for a fraction of a second, the mask came off, and Fine saw Pinkie for what she really was. Her mane was not quite so curly, not quite so bright. Her shoulders were slumped, her smile strained. And those eyes, accompanied by dark bags, spoke of a terrible weariness that ran deeper than mere lack of sleep. What Fine saw in that instant was a pony on the edge of shattering, and the sight shocked him to his core.

He blinked, and the mask was back on. Pinkie was grinning and on her hooves and talking to her friends, all cheer and bubbly happiness again. But the memory lingered. A figment of Fine’s imagination? After all, the bags under her eyes were gone. It was possible. But Pinkie was capable of far more wild things than hiding the bags under her eyes. He had to assume that he’d seen something real, something that disturbed him.

“Hey, Equestria to Fine!”

He flinched and found Pinkie making funny faces at him from point blank range. “Huh?”

PS snickered. “That’s twice now he’s been caught daydreaming.”

The others giggled as if they’d been in on a good joke, but not Pinkie. Worry passed over her features, and Fine understood why. She among all ponies knew how uncommon it was for somepony to get the drop on him. “Fine? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Everything’s good.” He gave her a look that he hoped conveyed the meaning of ‘I’ll tell you later.’

Whether she got it or not, she nodded and regained her smile. “Okie-dokie-lokie! We’re gonna grab lunch. You coming?”

What else was he going to say? “Of course. Lead the way.”

And so they left to find something to eat. Before long they found themselves at the same small café he and Pinkie had eaten at on Saturday. It was a fun affair, Pinkie filling her old friends in on everything they’d missed. Well, almost. She talked about the Sugarcube Corner and her friends and the Elements of Harmony. The darker parts didn’t come up; she flitted past those like a butterfly dodging a particularly distasteful flower, and none of them ever noticed. Fine had to throw in his two bits every now and then, particularly when they asked a question about him, but they were almost entirely devoted to Pinkie. He was on the sidelines, which was exactly where he wanted to be.

Eventually, the noise and chatter and social behavior (the very phrase gave him stomach pains) began to frustrate him. He excused himself with but a whispered word to Pinkie, who nodded her understanding and shooed him out before going back to her animated description of the Parasprite infestation. Fine left her to it, settling down in the shadow of the café where things were quieter and he could let the threatening headache fade.

He was glad Pinkie’s friends had arrived. Not just because it did her good to see some familiar faces and have something positive to think of regarding Rockstead, but also because it kept them from having to visit the farmhouse. His mind turned back to the blink of time when he’d seen through to Pinkie’s inner weariness. Once more, he questioned: illusion or reality? If he chose illusion and was wrong… Too risky. He had to assume it was true.

So what could he do about it?

“Excuse me, Mr… uh, Crime?”

He cringed. “Just call me Fine, please.” He looked up to find C-Roy watching him from the corner. “And to think, my former boss thought the name I chose was brilliant. If only he knew.”

C-Roy smiled and shrugged. “Guess you just have to live with it.”

“Guess I do.” Turning to face the mare properly, he asked, “What can I do for you? Pinkie didn’t ask you to come check on me or something, huh?”

“No.” She took a hesitant step forward, head low. “Is it alright if I join you?”

What was this all about? Fine barely kept from frowning. C-Roy seemed the skittish type, and perhaps sensitive too. That she would come out here on her own was enough to tell Fine whatever she wanted to discuss was important, at least to her. So he nodded and gestured for the mare to join him in the shadows, which she did with slow, tentative steps. “Is everything alright?”

She settled down a few feet away, well in the shade but clearly out of his reach. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She looked around them, as if she were seeking some inspiration or a reminder of what she intended to say. After a while of this, she sighed and focused on Fine properly. “Is Pinkie Pie… happy?”

That was a loaded question if ever Fine had heard one. It was made all the worse by how he didn’t know the proper answer. In many ways Pinkie’s overt emotional state could be skin deep and nopony would ever know it. He’d personally grown far better at reading her, but more often than not she remained a mystery. So, with this in mind, he replied, “I don’t think so, no.”

The truth, as he knew it. Something told him C-Roy was an observant pony, and not just by way of stereotyping the quiet ones. The fact that she seemed neither surprised or disturbed by his answer acted as a sort of confirmation of that theory. She pawed at the ground, anxious and worried, before asking, “Why did she come back to Rockstead?”

He considered his answer carefully. “I’m not sure it’s my place to explain that.”

C-Roy closed her eyes and nodded. A moment of quiet passed between them, and he could almost see the gears churning in her skull.

“Her family was murdered,” she declared at last. When her eyes opened, there was a hardness to them he hadn’t expected. “They all died within two months of each other, and then Pinkie disappeared. I know you know this.”

Fine maintained a neutral expression, but deep down he was starting to worry. Did she know, somehow? Was she even more observant than he’d first suspected?

The mare studied him like a bird of prey inspects a rival. “Yes… you knew. Just as I know she’s returned to deal with the aftermath. She’s still haunted by what happened. Seeking closure.” At last, she freed him from that piercing gaze, her eyes drifting to a nearby window. If Fine focused, he could hear ponies talking through the glass, but he was at the wrong angle to look inside. His guts twisted as he thought about where this conversation might be going.

C-Roy continued, merciless. “I saw it. A second of weakness in her defenses. I know you did too. Pinkie smiles and laughs now, but inside she’s a wreck of a pony.” She pressed her hoof to the glass. It seemed like she was reaching for something she knew she could never touch. “It goes without saying. I know Scilla and PS see it, but they laugh and joke and play along. When Pinkie’s world fell apart, she didn’t come to us.” Her eyes drifted to Fine. They were shiny with unreleased tears. “I don’t know what happened at the Pie Farm all those years ago. Honestly, I’m not sure I want to. But I do know Pinkie couldn’t have left it without her own share of scars.”

Fine tensed at the mention of scars, then silently cursed himself, for he knew C-Roy noticed. It was in the shift in her eyes, the flick of her ear, the thinning of her lips. She turned from the window, and her eyes pierced him better than any spear. “I felt them when we hugged. I wonder where those scars came from.”

He bowed his head and tried not to think about that. Maybe, if he was lucky, she would pass them off as from Pinkie’s foalhood past. Maybe. Maybe not. After all, she was an observant pony, and he was doing a crummy job hiding his guilt right now.

C-Roy took a step closer. “Are you going to help our Pinkie? Are you going to be there for her in the way we couldn’t?” Another step. “Can you make her happy?”

“I don’t know.” He met her gaze at last, fighting against the swirling fears and doubts and questions in the back of his mind. “I wish I could say. I’m trying, but Pinkie… she’s not the easiest pony to read.”

At that, the mare gained a sad smile. “I can vouch for that, at least.” She cocked her head. “Do you love her?”

To that he chuckled. “Trying to answer that question in particular is a big part of why we’re out here, and it’s the one everypony keeps asking.” He walked to the window, ignoring how C-Roy’s eyes followed him. He looked through the glass to see Pinkie laughing with PS and Scilla, as well as another pony she’d somehow dragged into the conversation. She caught sight of him through the window and waved merrily. He returned the gesture, his own wave more subdued, but she seemed to take it in stride. A second later all her apparent attention was back on her friends.

“Regardless of whether I love her or not – and I am very eager to know the answer to that question – I would see her happy. Not the in-your-face happy she always displays around others, but the kind of happy she can be when nopony else is around.” He turned to C-Roy, offering her a smile of his own. “Is that fair enough?”

Her own smile had grown since he’d last seen it. She nodded, then rubbed at her eyes. “Yes, I think that’s fair. Also, I think I know how things are going to turn out.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Really? Do tell.”

She shook her head before turning her face away. “What kind of pony would I be if I spoiled the ending?”

“Heh, now that’s just cruel teasing,” he countered.

“Tough. Take it like a stallion.” At his deadpan look, C-Roy stuck her tongue out. The two shared a laugh that echoed the more jovial variety beyond the window. She then settled to her haunches and asked, “Is it okay if I hang out with you for a little longer? I miss Pinkie, but I could use a break from the hubbub.”

“You, too? Good to know I’m not the only one.”

They fell into a companionable silence that lasted a lot longer than it did for most ponies Fine knew. Things were quiet, but it was a good quiet, one that let Fine clear his head and think about the things he wanted to think about. Right now, with his perfect view through the window, that was Pinkie’s brilliant smile and her fluid, smooth movements. He allowed himself to delve into her appearance, taking in all her motions, be they big or small. She wasn’t what one might call graceful, and yet even that perspective could be deceptive with Pinkie Pie. After all, she was currently balanced on one hoof atop a chair that itself was balanced on one leg while juggling bowls. One did not perform such ridiculous feats without having grace.

Pinkie hid hers well.

C-Roy sat beside him, joining him in the observation. She giggled when Pinkie flipped off the chair and dropped the bowls onto the table, safe and sound, and engaged what had to be the café’s manager in friendly conversation. “She hasn’t lost her touch.”

Fine nodded. “Don’t think she could if she wanted to.”

They continued to watch for a little longer, both waving when she caught them looking. She merely waved back and went right on being Pinkie Pie. At the moment that meant wearing a moustache and looking sneaky. No doubt she’d just thought of a ‘plan’ for something or other. The ponies around her were all smiles and laughter, a veritable cloud of enthusiasm and happiness the likes of which only Pinkie Pie could produce.

“Love her or not, you’ll treat her well.”

Blinking, Fine looked to C-Roy. “You think so?”

She never stopped watching Pinkie as she answered, “Yeah. I do.”

The two said nothing after that. They simply watched.

Pinkie found Fine still in the alleyway with Cotton. She suspected they’d remained there, in plain view through the window, so that their friends wouldn’t worry about where they’d gone off to. What she hadn’t expected was to see Fine scribbling on a floating piece of parchment and having an apparently animated discussion with Cotton. Or C-Roy, as they’d apparently taken to calling her. “What are you two up to?”

Cotton turned to Pinkie with a grin. “Why didn’t you tell me your coltfriend is Verity Fine? I got his autograph and everything!”

Pinkie blinked a couple times as the words ran a couple loops on her mental highway. Then she ‘got it’ and gave a little bounce. “Oh, yeah! I keep forgetting that Fine’s a big name writer pony and everything. It’s not exactly what he’s known for back home in Ponyville.” She paused to look between the two of them. “Except he usually doesn’t share that information. What gives, Fine?”

Without looking up from his scroll, he replied, “Well, I do lead a bit of a double life. One of the whole points behind a pen name is to avoid being ambushed by fans.”

But Verity Fine wasn’t a pen name, it was his real— Oooooh, I get it! She wished Fine could see the mental wink she was throwing his way right about now. “But that doesn’t explain why you decided to tell Cotton about it. Wait…” She frowned Cotton’s way. “Do you prefer Cotton or C-Roy now?”

Cotton laughed and tried to make a disgusted expression. This was apparently hard to do when one couldn’t stop giggling, so the result was a weird mashup of smiling and tongue that had Pinkie joining in the laughter. “Please, call me Cotton. Or Corduroy. Anything but C-Roy! PS came up with it. He and Scilla keep using it because they know it annoys me.”

“Thank goodness.” Pinkie feigned wiping sweat from her brow. “C-Roy is a terrible nickname for a mare like you.”

“I know, isn’t it?”

Once the laughter subsided, Pinkie noted that Fine was still scribbling on his scroll. He hadn’t joined in on the laughter at all and his face was serious. She’d seen him like this a couple times and felt she knew what was going on. Sidling over, she tried to get a look at what he was writing. “Did you get a new idea?”

Pulling the letter high with his magic, Fine said, “Ah-ah, you know better. It’s not ready for common consumption.” He paused when he realized Pinkie had stretched her neck up high enough to continue reading the notes.

She scanned the words, muzzle pressed against the scroll, and immediately picked up on some similarities. “Hey, is this about my friends?”

“Pinkie, please, the ink’s not dry.” She followed the scroll down to normal standing height and allowed herself to be pulled back. Fine chuckled, probably at the ink on her muzzle, and examined his writing. Nodding, he rolled the scroll up and made it vanish with a poof of magic. “Well, Miss Spoilerpants, if you’re going to cheat anyway then I might as well confess. C-Roy…” Cotton coughed. “Cotton here was telling me about her, Scilla and PS and it gave me an idea for a slice-of-life coming of age story. So yes, your friends are the inspiration.”

Cotton clapped her hooves, a grin plastered across her face that almost put Pinkie to shame. But only almost, because really, who could ever hope to put a Pinkie Pie smile to shame? “Isn’t it awesome? Verity Fine might write a story about me and my friends!”

“Oh, you must be a big fan!” Which, in hindsight, made Pinkie want to question what she and Fine were doing— Nope, not taking the exit of Suspicion and Doubt! Keep it together, Pinkie Pie.

“I am!” Cotton nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve read Rose and Symposium and so many of his stories. I even knew that Verity Fine was a stallion.” She leaned towards Pinkie, the back of her hoof to her cheek as if she were conveying some dark secret. “Most ponies think Verity Fine’s a mare.”

Pinkie giggle-snorted at that, looking to Fine just in time to see his eye roll. “Is there something you need to tell me, Fine?”

“Probably no less than you need to tell me,” he replied smoothly. He looked over her shoulder, then around the alleyway. “Where are the others? Scilla and PS?”

Cotton waved a dismissive hoof. “They’ve probably gone on home. They both have kids to take care of.”

“That’s right!” Fresh excitement ran through Pinkie’s veins as she bounced from hoof to hoof. “Scilly’s got twins! I can’t wait to meet them and become their bestest best aunt Pinkie. And PS’s little colt’s already got his cutie mark! I can’t believe I missed so much.” Her eyes locked onto Cotton’s through the mare’s glasses and she felt her grin stretch even further. “What about you? You got any stallions in your life? Special somepony, foals, grandfoals?”

The mare gained a horrified look as she adjusted her glasses. “I don’t look that old, do I?”

“Nope! But you never know, some ponies start real early.” Hopping to Cotton’s side, Pinkie elbowed her in the ribs and waggled her eyebrows. “Sooooo?”

With a sigh and a smile, Cotton pushed her back. “I’m still single, Pinkie, and happily so. Please, whatever you do, don’t go trying to play matchmaker for me.”

“If she did,” Fine butted into the conversation with a smirk, “You’d have my utmost sympathies.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Giggling at Pinkie’s exaggerated pout, Cotton stepped away from the two of them. “I’m afraid I should probably get going too. I took off work today to investigate the Pinkie sightings, but have to do some work at home to make up for the lost time. I’ll see you at the party, Pinkie.” She let out a squeak as Pinkie engulfed her in a breath-stealing squeeze. Once she recovered, she returned the embrace, burying her muzzle in Pinkie’s mane. “It’s so very good to know you’re alive.”

To that Pinkie offered only a gentle “Mm-hmm.” They separated, stared at one another for a few seconds, and Cotton finally left them alone. Pinkie watched her go, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction. She’d never expected to see Scilla, PS, and Cotton again. She couldn’t believe they remembered her, considering how young they’d been. Scilla was the oldest, and she’d been… what, ten? Maybe there were other old friends she could get in touch with someday.

Fine stood at her side. “You going to be okay?”

Right, first things first. She met his gaze and felt a small bubble of renewed excitement, but this wasn’t the same as she’d felt when her friends had appeared. No, this was an entirely different sensation. This was nervicitment, and she wasn’t sure whether she should pounce on Fine with the biggest hug ever or sneak into a dark place and hide. Her cheeks weren’t helping her feel any more confident, what with how they burned.

His smile faded, taken over by an expression of worry. He would worry. It was just like him. She couldn’t let the scared part of her win, if only because she didn’t want him to fret. So she sucked down her fear and whispered, “A confession?”

He studied her as if unsure of what her words meant. Then his eyes widened and his cheeks turned as pink as hers probably appeared normally. His surprise lasted for only a second before he was giving her a warm smile. “A confession.”

Pawing at the ground, tail wrapped around her flank, Pinkie forced herself to meet his eyes even as her head lowered. “But I thought this trip was to help us figure that out. H-have you figured it out?”

“What I’ve figured out,” he replied slowly, as if to emphasize every word, “is that we’ll never figure it out unless one of us commits. So that’s what I’m doing. Committing.” He took a step closer, and though there was clear uncertainty in his expression Pinkie could detect a trace of eagerness too. That alone was enough to make her heart sneak its way into her throat and settle down, nice and comfy. “That’s okay… right?”

Pinkie’s mental highway was suddenly awash in the biggest traffic jam ever. A hundred Pinkies were struggling to find their way while a thousand Rainbow Dashes zoomed through in their sports carts shouting at Pinkie to stop blocking the road and make a decision and a million Rarities were trying to get on while screaming ‘Say yes, you silly mare, just say yes!’ but the Pinkies were uncertain if this was the right time to exit and oh Celestia this was serious and if she didn’t exit now she might not get another chance and the Rainbows were honking their horns and the Rarities were gushing about potential dates and why hadn’t she said yes yet Fine was waiting for an answer and she was spinning out of control and the world was spinning with her and the Rainbows and Rarities were crowding her in and—

She moved forward, not knowing what she was doing, not knowing why. She pressed her cheek to Fine’s, rubbed it along his neck, crossed his withers. Then she simply stood there, body tight against his, and relished the sensation as her mind slowly unraveled. She didn’t have to say anything. Didn’t want to say anything. At last, she was every bit as close as she’d always wanted to be.

She didn’t miss how Fine tensed at the contact. And when he returned the motion, pushing his shoulder to hers and resting his cheek against her withers, the sensation warmed her whole soul. This… this felt right, and Pinkie wasn’t sure she ever wanted it to end. So they remained that way for some time, neither speaking, neither moving, their collective warmth filling them both. Pinkie saw no need to think. She was alone on her mental highway. No, not alone. Fine sat beside her, nestled against her shoulder and enjoying the ride.

It couldn’t last forever, and eventually Fine – the real one – moved away. She whined but didn’t pursue. She smiled up at him, not wanting to spoil the moment with her silly words.

Alas, Fine had no such qualms. Still, out of all the things he could have said, “You want to go for a walk?” may have been the best. Soon they were strolling through Rockstead, shoulders and hips pressed together, with no direction in mind. The temptation to break out into wild pronking was only contained by Pinkie’s awareness that doing so would end this perfect moment. Ponies noticed them as they passed and shared hushed whispers, knowing smiles on their lips, and Pinkie could only sigh in contentment. That’s right, everypony, this one’s mine.

And Fine didn’t care. That was the most amazing thing to her. They were walking in the middle of the street in open daylight where anypony could see them together, and Fine didn’t care. Could the situation possibly be any more perfect? Well, yes, it could. There was still some baggage to get rid of. But this was a start, and what a beautiful start it was!

Fine’s words, a whisper even at this close range, filled her ears. “Romance is such a funny thing, don’t you think?”

Though she smiled, Pinkie found his suggestion odd. “I don’t think there’s anything funny about this.” She emphasized her words by nudging her muzzle under his chin playfully.

“I don’t know. I may need to rethink how I write romances. They definitely require a bit more…” He nuzzled her cheek. “Laughter.”

Oh, but that was one warm wave washing over her. She giggled and wrapped her tail around his much shorter one. “You? Write humor? Didn’t you say you weren’t good at that?”

“I did. That’s a problem.” He hummed, pressing his muzzle to her ear so that the sound tingled with the tiny vibrations of his voice. A giggle bubbled out of her as he did it again, and a third time. “How would you like to co-author a story with me?”

Pinkie thought she could feel her eyebrows detaching from her face and fluttering off into the stratosphere. “Me? I know as much about writing as you know about dentistry.” She wondered if the two of them could ride an airship together. Rainbow always slept in clouds. Clouds were soft. If they nope not going there now.

“Maybe you can’t write the story with me,” he agreed, flashing her a handsome smile, if she did say so herself (and she certainly did). “But I know you can tell a story. We can make a story together. Leave the tricky writing part to me.”

The Pinkies in her mind began racing by one at a time, each one giving out an exultant “Yes!” as they passed. It wasn’t that simple, though; she thought of Rarity when she was at work and how she hated being disturbed, or Twilight when she studied, or Octavia practicing her cello. She set a hoof to Fine’s chest, stopping their mutual forward momentum so she could look him in the eyes. “Are you sure? I know your writing time is important to you.”

“It is important to me. We’d probably have to make a few ground rules. However…” He took her hoof from his chest and held it in both of his. The smile he offered had the butterflies dancing in her stomach. Her hind legs joined in, shifting and fidgeting and rubbing against one another. “I want to share that with you. Because it’s important to me.

“Besides,” he added with a wink, “How would I ever write humor without you?”

Her chest felt full, yet she also seemed lighter than air. Trying to ignore the heat of her cheeks and his pleasant rosewood eyes, she whispered, “You won’t.”

“Exactly. You get it.” Pressing against her once more, he entwined his foreleg with hers. “I need you, Pinkie. You won’t deny a stallion in need, will you?”

She had nothing to say to that. She wanted to, she felt the right words in her mind, but her throat clenched up in fierce denial. So she just leaned into him and delighted in the feeling of being needed. It was a new, delightful feeling, and one she hoped she never got used to.

If she were lucky it would seem fresh and new and wonderful like this every day for the rest of her life.

Day 8

Pinkie awoke with a gasp, body covered in sweat. No matter how rapidly she blinked, she couldn’t get the afterimage of those violet eyes out of her vision. Slowly sitting up, she took in her room. The faintest hint of sunlight could be seen through the window curtains, but otherwise everything was dark. Her heart pattered around inside her chest as her gaze lingered over the far corner of the room and its impenetrable shadow. Gradually, her breathing eased and her legs unfolded from her chest. She didn’t even have it in her to cry this time.

“Please,” she whispered into the dark. “J-just for one day, leave me alone. I’m sorry. I-I just need today. Okay?”

Yes, she needed today. It was Saturday. The party. She had to do it right. She needed to be the old Pinkie Pie today. Never mind how tired she was. Never mind how frightened. This was how she’d show them. All of them. Sunflower, Scilly, PS, Cotton. Fine Crime. They’d see that she was okay, that she could be the Pinkie they all knew and wanted. None of them would have to worry about her anymore. Because she was fine.

Are you? Are you really, Pinkie?

She shivered, eyes darting about the shadows. She was fine.

Crawling out of bed required a bit of concentration. Her knees were all wobbly and disobedient, and it had nothing to do with Pinkie Sense. Her body ached in so many places, her joints begging with all they were worth to go back to bed. Pinkie refused. Today was not a day to sleep in. She had to get everything ready. She had to make today work. She couldn’t be Pinkamena, she had to be Pinkie.

She stumbled her way to the bathroom and started the water. Soon she was being pounded into awareness by a pleasant shower. It was the old style, the kind made from pegasus clouds rather than pipes. Not as hot, but it had plenty of pressure. She needed that. It was like getting a massage, and she let out a quiet moan as her muscles quieted their complaining. Not entirely, but enough to not make the bed seem so tantalizing. She idly wondered what it would be like to have Fine Crime in the small space with her.

The idea, pleasant as it was, didn’t last for very long. She was too tired even for that luxurious concept to stay firmly in place. Well, at least she knew ponies would take the lack of focus as her ‘just being Pinkie Pie’. That worked in her favor, didn’t it?

Suddenly, the shower didn’t feel so nice. Heaving a sigh, she turned off the water and began to dry off. Upon approaching the sink, she found the mirror coated in fog. With the tip of her hoof, she drew a smiley face on the glass. “Smile, smile, smile.” She tried. It was almost painful. She had her work cut out for her this morning.

“You can do it, Pinkie,” she muttered before trying again with similar results. “Come on, just… smile. Let the world know you’re okay.”

A few more tries, a few more fails. Sighing, she took a rag and wiped away the fog completely so she could—

Somepony was in the bathroom with her. A grey-coated mare. Violet eyes. Staring. Pinkie whipped around, a cry caught in her throat.

Nothing. She was alone.

Blood pounding in her ears, she fell to the floor, curling up in a ball and rocking back and forth. “I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” One day. All she wanted was one day! Was that too much to ask? She’d suffer the nightmares for the rest of her days and accept being haunted if she could just get this one day! “P-please, leave me alone…”

There was no way to know how long she lay there, sobbing and rocking and trying to pull herself back together. When she finally wiped her eyes of the last of her tears and stood on unsteady legs, the sun streamed in through the window and the bathroom had lost its excessive humidity. She could only count herself fortunate that Fine hadn’t come in to see that little… episode.

She spent the next hour fighting with her face in the mirror. By the end of it she had a somewhat convincing smile. Fine might see past it. He was observant like that. But maybe not. And even if he did, everypony else in Rockstead would certainly fall for it. “Okay, Pinkie Pie.” Yes. Yes, she was going to be Pinkie Pie. “Let’s do this.” She turned around, took one step—

The ground flew up to meet her. Sucking in a sharp breath, she managed to catch herself before her muzzle could kiss the floorboards. She stood perfectly still, forelegs splayed and hind legs shaking. How had she…?

Closing her eyes and ignoring her body’s complaints, she stood straight once more. “Keep it together, Pinkie,” she muttered, only to wince at the weariness in her own voice. A few little slaps to her cheeks with both forehooves stung her back into clarity, and her smile came back with only a token resistance. “Just gotta get through today. There’s no such thing as too tired to party.” With a firm nod, she trotted for the door, paying no mind to the Rainbow Dash and Rarity on her mental highway watching her putter past with concerned looks.

She ran through a mental checklist, graciously hoofed over by a passing Twilight Sparkle. “Oh, thanks, Twilight. I—” She paused, staring at the empty space to her left and the closed door behind it. Frowning, she tapped herself on the head a couple times. “Stay in there, you guys.” The mini-Twilight exiting off the highway in her steam-powered cart had the good sense to look sheepishly guilty.

“Right. So.” She looked at the list in her hoof, having to blink a couple times for it to clear up. Breakfast first with Fine. Duh. Then check on party supplies… finalize food arrangements with Mr. Collate… help Sunflower get her stage ready… procure fireworks (“It’s going to happen, by fudge!”)… lunch… decorate… help in the kitchen… Pinkie Pie nodded to herself, tucking the list away in her mane. “Nothing unusual for a Party Pony like me.”

She paused at the stairs, taking a moment to test her legs to make sure they wouldn’t disobey her again. She hadn’t seen Fine, but something told her he was already downstairs. She had to do this right from the start. She was Pinkie Pie, and today she was hosting a party. There were expectations, and Celestia as her witness, she’d meet them! Slapping on the best grin she could afford under the circumstances, she went down the steps at a trot. Miraculously, she didn’t trip.

“Go~od morning, everypony,” she singsonged once on the ground floor. Of course, only Fine was present, sitting at their usual table and writing in his story journal, but it was the image that was important. She bounced her way to him, giving him a hug from the side that almost knocked him out of his seat. “How’s my favorite pony doing today?”

“Nice to see you up and about, sleepyhead.” He chuckled and gave her a returning nuzzle. The motion sent waves of chilly pleasure up and down her whole body for so many reasons. He didn’t even stiffen up at first contact like he usually did! “I was just thinking about heading up there to wake you. Don’t you have a busy day planned?”

“Yupperooni!” After one last loving nuzzle, she bounced back to land in her seat. A little off-center, but Fine didn’t seem to notice. “I hope Petri’s got some grub ready, because I need to get started sooner rather than later.”

“As a matter of fact…” A tiny red spark popped at the tip of his horn with the sound of broken glass. A couple seconds later, the Rock Bottom Inn’s proprietor stepped out of the kitchen with a serving tray in one hoof.

“Wow, that was amazing timing! How’d you know I’d be up now and cook the food just right to make sure it would be out at the same time?” She could have strung that for much longer, but she just wasn’t feeling it. Thankfully neither Petri or Fine seemed to notice how quickly she’d brought it to a close.

The two stallions shared a glance that almost certainly contained an entire conversation before Petri answered, “Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy!” He set a steaming bowl of soup before each of them.

Deciding it would probably work against her to pursue the topic, she instead snatched her spoon with an “Okay!” and started on breakfast. “Oh, sweet! Pear soup? I bet Fine asked for it.” She leaned towards Petri with a hoof over her lips as if to hide what she was saying and stage whispered, “Don’t tell our friend Applejack, but he really likes pears.”

Fine rolled his eyes, swallowed his first spoonful, and casually replied, “AJ knows, Pinkie. Or did you forget I pay Big Mac to come by my place once a month with supplies?”

“And he allows pears in his apple cart?” She gasped, reared up and set both forehooves on the table to stare wide-eyed at him. “What did you do? Is Big Mac brainwashed? Did you use some super-secret artifact to make him forget about the historical Apple-Pear rivalry?”

That one got a chuckle out of the stallion. “Do you really think I’d brainwash anypony, Pinkie?”

She raised an eyebrow in mock suspicion. “Who knows what goes through that head of yours?”

He answered with a raised eyebrow of his own. “I can end all debate on the matter with a single name.”

“Yeah? Name it!”

“Silma Ril.”

It was like being bucked in the gut. Pinkie’s scars burned as fresh memories loomed to the forefront of her thoughts. Flinching, she settled back onto her cushion. Her forelegs suddenly felt so weak, even lifting her spoon was a challenge. She tried not think of what she’d almost done under that witch’s control…

“Pinkie?”

She sat up straight, banging her knee on the table as she did. Flinching, she dropped the spoon and massaged her forming bruise, but didn’t take her eyes off Fine. Mr. Collate had disappeared somehow.

Concern seeped out of Fine’s gaze as he stared at her with ears folded back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Are you alright?”

No. “S-sure, I’m okay.” She smiled for him, though he probably knew it was forced. At least this time she had an excuse to dodge from her other, more immediate issues. “I just couldn’t help thinking about what she almost made me do.” At his pained expression she reinforced her smile. “B-but it’s okay! It’s not your fault. It’ll pass.” He looked as though he wanted to argue, but after a moment of consideration he nodded and went back to his soup. Relaxing with a sigh, Pinkie followed his example and ate. She should probably be grateful; she had an excuse to not smile and relax her cheeks. Why did smiles start to hurt after a while when you weren’t in the mood for them?

The meal ended all too quickly, and she was forced to wear her smile once more. Hopping out of her chair, she declared in her best cheery tone, “Alright, it’s time to work! I, Pinkie Pie, declare the party preparations to have officially begun.”

Fine Crime, still only halfway through his meal, smiled at what he probably saw as enthusiasm. She hoped so, anyway. “Are you sure you don’t want my help?”

“Nope!” She shook her head firmly, mane whipping about her at the frantic motions. When she stopped the world had tilted slightly, but she planted her hooves and grinned through the vertigo. “Party planning’s my job. No offense, but I don’t think you’ve got the party gene.” To that he chuckled, and she let the warmth of the sound fill her up and give her an extra dose of energy. She promptly used it to start bouncing in place. “Besides, this one’s gonna be big and long and you’ll probably want to spend all day charging up your cranky Mister Loner batteries so that you can take it all without spraining a sprocket in that striking skull of yours.”

He blinked a few times, expression blank. “I’m not sure what definition of ‘striking’ you’re after there.”

In a burst of inspiration, she moved in to press her forehead to his, his horn a comfortable weight on top, and whispered a husky, “What do you think I meant?” She gave him just a second to meet her heavy-lidded eyes, then retreated to grin at him. The daring little act, far more than she’d ever tried before, had her cheeks burning, but her smile was easily the most genuine of the morning so far.

For his part, Fine appeared to have become a statue. He stared at her with wide eyes and a slightly opened mouth. His levitating spoon gradually turned in the air, splashing its contents on the table beside him. He didn’t seem to notice, and his face had gained all the color qualities of a stop sign.

With a giddy giggle, she blew him a kiss and bounced for the door. “See you later, handsome!”

Oh, wow, I can’t believe I did that but it felt amazing and Fine’s reaction was just perfect I never thought I could do the seductive pony thing like I’ve seen Rarity do once or twice but oh Celestia did it feel good and I wanna go back and do it again but is that moving too fast I mean when is a mare supposed to get all flirty and frisky with her stallion is there a timetable or something I bet Twilight would know she probably did all kinds of studies in romance because she’s the most studyrific pony ever and probably decided to do it in a fit of boredom and certainly not at all from loneliness because really Twilight’s a great and pretty mare and why doesn’t she have a date maybe I should ask Rarity about that and we can set up an intervention but that’s not near as important as I just flirted with Fine and it was so much fun and I feel so brave and maybe I can wear the dress at the party tonight and… and…

The energy puttered out as Pinkie’s thoughts focused on the dress still hidden under her bed at the inn. The dress that was meant to be romantic. She couldn’t possibly hope to unveil it at the party. It wasn’t that kind of party. And besides, now that the momentary high of her random act of flirtatiousness had passed, she could just feel the crash in her party pony bones. Trying to move around in the dress Rarity made and be fetching for Fine when she would be lucky if she could go through the entire day without tripping on her own hooves? Not going to happen.

“But then again, when will it happen?”

She slapped a hoof over her mouth, only to silently curse when the motion caught the attention of a few early risers. She was supposed to be all cheerful and happy and bouncy. This was a party day! Ponies shouldn’t see her moping on a party day! She slapped on another grin as fast as physics would permit (stupid physics, always getting in the way) and increased her pace to a trot. She began humming a random, jaunty tune and started waving and greeting ponies as she passed them by on the way to the store to collect her order.

If she worked her smile hard enough, perhaps nopony would notice how she kept having to stop her hooves from dragging every other step.

“Pinkie?”

Pinkie jolted as if shocked, frantically looking about her. She found nothing save Sunflower watching her with a concerned frown. Had she zoned out? Oh, no, she couldn’t zone out, she was supposed to be perfectly peppy Pinkie!

Picking her smile up off the floor and putting it back on her face, she said, “What’s up?”

Sunflower, standing atop her half-constructed stage with a few wooden poles hovering behind her in her aura, gestured to Pinkie. “Are you alright?”

Don’t panic, Pinkie! “I’m fine! Well, maybe not Fine, I don’t think I wanna be a stallion, but the other fine the fine that a mare can be too that fine y’know?” Smooth save. She gave herself a mental pat on the back.

The magician raised an eyebrow, her expression deadpan. “You’ve misplaced that panel three times in a row now.”

Pinkie blinked at the wide, rectangular piece of wood that was supposed to make up part of the front of the stage. Sure enough, she’d slid it into place at a ninety-degree angle from how it was meant to be. With a blush, she scratched her head and grinned at Pinkie. “Uh, oopsie? It’s just, uh, so hard?”

Sunflower pointed behind Pinkie. “And you got the banner wrong.”

Ears low, Pinkie slowly turned around to look at her hoof-made banner. Sure enough, the name Sunflower was instead ‘Sunflour’. Her heart sank, and she briefly wondered if she couldn’t hide under the stage. But no, she could play this out… somehow. She couldn’t let anypony know she was struggling. Forcing a grin to her face, she managed to squeeze a giggle out of her throat. “Y-you mean you’re not named after a bright and shiny baking ingredient? Huh. The things you learn, amiright?”

She turned around again to find Sunflower’s deadpan stare replaced with a narrow-eyed glower. Rubbing her foreleg, Pinkie broadened her grin. “And here I was wondering what sunflour really was.”

Sunflower leaned a little closer.

“I-I mean, maybe it’s used to make glowy bread?”

And a little closer.

Pinkie shrank back, smile firmly in place and starting to ache. “So you can, um, eat it in the dark?”

Sunflower’s voice was commanding. “Pinkie Pie…”

It was no use; Pinkie’s defenses shattered beneath the weight of that voice and those hard eyes. She dropped to her haunches and raised her forehooves as if to ward off a blow. “I’m okay, I really am! I’m just a little tired, that’s all. I promise, I’ll do better from now on. Please don’t tell Fine, he’ll worry and fret and think something’s wrong.”

Thankfully, Sunflower stopped looming over her to stand up straight, though she did maintain a skeptical look. “Is there something wrong?”

“Nope! Not a thing. Pinkie Pie is ready for duty, and I give my solemn promise that this party will be… Stop looking at me like that.” She wished her voice hadn’t sounded so weak just then, but it was too late to do anything about it. She looked away from the magician’s critical gaze, scuffing the floor and checking to make sure Fine wasn’t in the Inn. He wasn’t, thank Celestia. “There’s nothing wrong.”

She heard the quiet clop of hooves as Sunflower hopped off the half-built stage and approached. “Pinkie, please don’t lie to me. You’ve been acting odd all day.”

“‘Odd’ is normal for me,” Pinkie defended half-heartedly.

“Not like this it’s not.” Settling before her, Sunflower tilted her head sideways in an attempt to look Pinkie in the eye. Pinkie avoided it. “Pinkie, please. I promise not to tell Fine, but you can’t keep whatever this is bottled up.”

How fortunate it was that Pinkie could tell some of the truth. She offered a weary smile, though she still couldn’t look the mare in the eye. “Honest, Sunny. I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well at all since I got here.”

Sunflower’s frown returned, though it seemed to be more muddled than annoyed. “You don’t really look tired, though.”

To that Pinkie was able to make her smile legitimate. “Thanks. It’s good to know I’m hiding it well. But… um, you really promise not to tell Fine anything?” At Sunflower’s nod, Pinkie closed her eyes and allowed just a smidgeon of the truth to come out. She could feel the physical changes; the slight straightening of her mane, a tiny sag in her shoulders, the loss of the youthful smile. The hardest part, the biggest giveaway and that which required the most work to conceal, was the bags under her eyes. She only let them go a tiny fraction, but even that she dreaded having to fight back into place.

She heard Sunflower hiss, and opened her eyes with a new, weaker smile. “See? Pretty tired.”

Sunflower’s eyes were practically popping out of their sockets. “How do you do that? If every mare in Equestria had that skill, we’d all be young forever.”

Covering a yawn with a hoof, Pinkie shrugged. “You told me not to lie, right? Well, I’d be lying if I said I understood it. I just… do things.” She heaved a sigh and bowed her head. “I’ll have to head upstairs and work on covering it again. It’s easier to let it out than it is to hide.”

After a moment’s consideration, Sunflower asked, “Are you sure you want to do the party? I mean, if you’re that tired…”

Pinkie’s slow head shake ended the suggestion. She sat up straight and brought out another one of her spare smiles. “Pinkie Pie never flinches when it comes to parties, and she’s not gonna start now. I can do this! I, uh…” She fidgeted and glanced away, mentally grimacing upon realizing her smile had already lost its luster. “I might just need a little more help than usual, that’s all.”

“What you need is to take a nap. I can—”

“No.” Pinkie flinched upon seeing Sunflower’s startled gaze. Why’d she have to react so forcefully? “I m-mean, no. Thanks, but no. I’m a party pony. I have to do this.”

Disapproval clear in her frown, Sunflower replied, “Even party ponies need sleep.”

But they didn’t need nightmares. Standing tall once more, Pinkie put on her ‘serious business’ face and stomped. “Not on a party day, they don’t!” Then, softening her tone, she said, “Thanks for worrying, Sunny. Really. I appreciate it. But I need to do this, okay?” Seeing the hesitation and concern in her friend’s face, she added a “Please?” that sounded a little too much like begging to her ears. But it was out there, and she couldn’t take it back.

Sunflower closed her eyes, lips pressed in a thin line. After a few seconds of what appeared to be meditation, she opened them again. Her stare was a little softer this time. “You really think you can get through today alright?”

Pinkie nodded with all the seriousness the query demanded. “If ever I feel like I can’t, I’ll stop.”

Though she didn’t appear satisfied at all by that response, Sunflower returned the nod. “Alright. But I’m holding you to that. Don’t make me get Fine to put you to bed.”

Pinkie’s face got so hot she thought it might catch flame, and that only intensified when Sunflower gained a wicked smirk. She did that on purpose! “Y-you’re mean,” Pinkie whispered half-seriously, fighting not to smile at the naughty thoughts that were hijacking her mental highway.

“That was easier than I thought it’d be.” Sunflower turned away, flicking her tail with a nicker. “Why don’t you head upstairs and do that thing you do with the face, and cool down while you’re at it?”

Pinkie was up the stairs before she finished her sentence.

The day passed in a blur, not least because Pinkie kept slipping into dazes on account of her weariness. Luckily the damage had only been minor so far, though she felt profoundly guilty for accidentally wasting a batch of cupcakes by putting confetti in them instead of sprinkles. They just looked so colorful and her vision had gone blurry for just a moment! How’d she even get confetti in the kitchen, anyway? She knew better than that. Surely being a little – or a lot – sleepy wasn’t making her neglect basic culinary hygiene?

There was no more time for mixups. The sun was going down and guests were already streaming into the party, which consisted of the dining area of the Rock Bottom Inn and the street just outside. A local band played outdoors, happily volunteering their services without her even having to ask, and Sunflower was already hard at work mesmerizing the ponies inside.

And yes, there’d been fireworks. Outside, of course, but close enough.

Well and truly in her element, Pinkie marched among the crowd, greeting newcomers and pointing them all to whatever her party pony instincts said was the most likely thing to provide them with the most entertainment for the night. She had everything; games, music, a magic show, food, and balloons and decorations galore (kudos to the supply store for getting that order in on time). She even had a designated Quiet Space around the corner, a necessity she picked up from having Fluttershy and Fine as guests in past events. It was, for all intents and purposes, the perfect party, and she was determined to keep it that way!

It was fortunate, then, that she was able to mask her occasional stumble or trip to the excitement and clumsiness. Her cheeks ached from all the smiling she was doing, her legs would sometimes wobble at inopportune times, and more than once she would slip into the kitchen or even the Quiet Space to catch her breath. Petri and his hired help were far too busy keeping the food and drinks flowing to take notice and the Quiet Space went unused so far, so there was no threat of being caught. Yet. Fine would go there before too long, she knew. Then she might have to really flex her improvisation skills.

But until then, she was the perfect host.

“Scilly, PS, Cotton!” She bounced on protesting knees to her friends as they reached the edge of the crowd, engulfing all three of the ponies in a single massive hug. “You made it! I’m sooooo happy to see you guys.”

Scilly chuckled from within the breath-stealing squeeze. “Yep, that’s our Pinkie Pie, alright.”

At last being dropped to his hooves, PS cast his grin around the party. “Wow. It looks like half of Rockstead’s here.” He turned about and gestured to a young, cinnamon-red mare with orange dreadlocks and an excited colt dancing around her hooves. “Pinkie Pie, meet my wife, Red Velvet, and son Hot Marble.”

Pinkie wasted no time assaulting the pair with a bone-crushing hug, her excitement at meeting PS’s family enough to make her forget any weariness, at least for the moment. “Oh, oh, it is so good to meet you ponies!”

Velvet, her dreadlocks akimbo, settled on her haunches after the unexpected attack, her eyes swirling about in her head. “Uh… p-pleased to meet you?”

Hot Marble, on the other hoof, just laughed and kept pronking. “This party looks amazing! So many ponies all at once. Are any of my friends here? I bet some of my friends are here. I’m gonna go look for my friends!”

Before he could get away, Pinkie caught him with a lone hoof on his back. “Apple Split, Leap Frog, and Serendipity?” With her free hoof she pointed to the door. “Check inside! They’re waiting on you to start a game of charades.”

She released the colt, who scrambled away with a joyful cry of “Thanks, lady!”

Red Velvet watched him go in a mild stupor before asking, “How did she—”

“—know who his friends were?” Pinkie blew a raspberry and giggled. “Silly willy, I’m Pinkie Pie, and I don’t go anywhere without meeting everypony. I’m sorry I haven’t had time to meet the ponies living outside of town yet, or I’d have known you too. But now I do and that makes us friends.”

PS patted his still-reeling wife on the back with a grin. “Now you see what I had to deal with when she was still around. We should probably head inside too and keep an eye on him.”

Pinkie shook her head, her smile growing warm. “Actually, Fine’s keeping an eye on the foals, so it’ll be A-okay. You two should just enjoy the party.”

Scilla frowned at this. “Your coltfriend’s watching the kids when he could be enjoying this shindig you’ve set up? Shouldn’t he be enjoying the party with you?”

To this Cotton shrugged. “I don’t think this scene is Fine’s idea of a good time.” She was sticking close to Pinkie, PS, and Scilla, and kept casting wary looks at the ponies moving all around them. Her ears were folded back against the noise. “I, uh, might be tempted to join him.”

Pinkie nodded enthusiastically. “Fine’s not much for big parties. I think that makes him a madpony, but that’s okay, he’s my kind of madpony.” Seeing the concern on Red Velvet’s face, she added, “And he’s really good with foals. Trust me on this one, Celestia herself couldn’t hurt those foals when he’s watching them. Not that Celestia’s ever wanted to hurt a foal, but you get the idea, because… because…” The world teetered, and her along with it. For a moment the music and chatter and noise mashed into a chaotic frenzy of nonsense – which she imagined was how it sounded to non-party ponies in the first place. It was new for her, though, and she didn’t like it one bit. Maybe now she could understand why Fine didn’t care for parties as much as she did. She closed her eyes and shook her head forcefully. When she opened them again the world had stopped acting drunk, but her friends were staring at her with a variety of confused expressions.

Cotton was the first to speak. “Uh, what was—?”

“So, yeah, foals are fine with Fine, and that’s just fine!” Hoping the dim lights outside would mask her blush, Pinkie giggled through her near-panic and waved at Red Velvet and PS. “Have fun tonight, you two. Don’t worry, Hot Marble will be safe under Sunflower’s and Fine’s guard.”

The couple shared a glance, Red Velvet’s worried and PJ’s encouraging. After what appeared to be a silent conversation, they both smiled and started for the dance area, PJ calling a ”thank you” over the music and chattering.

“But Pinkie,” Scilla started, “what about—?”

Rounding on the mare with hooves to hips, Pinkie asked, “And where’s your hubby, hmm? I thought I was gonna meet him and the little cupcakes tonight. I demand new friends!”

Scilla smiled at Pinkie’s forceful nature, just as predicted. “Well, sorry to disappoint! The Two Qs are far too young for something like this, and Backstage insisted I come while he watches them. I won’t be here long, I feel guilty enough leaving him there as it is.”

“Aww.” Pinkie dropped back to four hooves, barely managing to avoid a stumble with her landing. “I was really hoping to meet Queue and Cue, too.” Then she put on her best smile from the Smile Pile. “I guess that means I have an excuse to visit your place next week, haven’t I? You can’t hide those bundles of joy from me forever.”

“Nor would I try.” Scilla’s smile faded as she took Pinkie in once more. “Is everything—?”

“But what you should try is the food here!” Pinkie was at Scilla’s back and pushing her towards the snack tables. “Petri and I worked all day to make only the best of the best party food. You should make sure to grab a few slices of cake and other goodies to bring back. If Backstage can’t come to the party, bring the party to him I say!”

Scilla looked back as if to argue, her expression a mixture of concern and… pain. The look seared Pinkie’s soul, but she refused to put away her smile now. She had to get through tonight, and that meant not letting them slow her down. A wave of relief washed over her when the dark-coated mare at last accepted the suggestion and walked off, but that was was promptly followed by guilt. No time to dwell on that, though. She still had…

An orange hoof tapped her on the forehead enough to make her tilt back a little. It was enough to disorient her and send the world reeling once more. Pinkie locked her hind legs and waved her forelegs in an effort to get her balance back on track, and barely avoided a fall. Shaking her head to clear it, she blinked at a deadpan Cotton. “What was that for?”

Cotton merely sighed. “Look, just promise you’ll get some rest after tonight?”

Oh no oh no she knows! Pinkie kicked down the panic and grinned. “I-I have no idea what you mean.” One look at the growing frown on Cotton’s face made it clear she wasn’t buying the claim. Quick, Pinkie, distraction! B-but what can I distract her with? She’s not as easy as the other two were.

“You know we’re your friends, right?”

Pinkie flinched, and immediately regretted it. Staring into Cotton’s hard eyes, she scrambled to hold her defenses in place. She couldn’t break now, it was way too early! But… Cotton didn’t look happy. She might even be a little angry. Pinkie’s tremulous grasp on her wits shivered under that disappointed stare.

Time to take a risk. “I know. I know you’re my friends, Corduroy.” She stepped forward and wrapped Cotton in a soft hug. “And I’m sorry. But let me have this one night, okay? I n-need this.” Oh, why’d she let that stammer slip in?

Cotton’s voice was hard as rocks. “Do you? Are you sure?” At the nod against her shoulder, she returned the hug. Her words were softer now, but not without a hint of an edge. “Alright, Pinkie. I’ll play along. Just promise you’ll focus on getting better after this.”

With a smile, genuine this time, Pinkie stepped back and went through the usual motions. “It’s a Pinkie Promise.” Noting Cotton’s cocked head, she giggled. “I’ll explain later, you silly filly. But right now there’s a party going on and I’ve got to get back to hosting it! Have fun and don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll do my best.” Cotton smiled back, though it was a weak display, then made her way to the door of the inn. Pinkie waved her off, gave herself a second to build up her enthusiastic smile, and got to work.

Ponies often remarked on the amount of energy she always put on display. Some called her a marvel in that regard. Twilight had even wanted to study her to try and understand where that seemingly boundless enthusiasm came from. What only her closest friends knew (including Twilight after the ill-advised study) was that her reserves were not, in fact, infinite, and she’d been running low even before this party started. But Pinkie was determined to be the best party pony Rockstead had ever known, and she wasn’t going to let any nightmare-induced weariness get the better of her now.

And she was doing a spectacular job, all things considered. She swayed through the crowds like a fish in the ocean, greeting ponies and making sure every single one was enjoying the event to the fullest. Whether that involved refilling drinks, starting up a game, dancing to the music, or even just providing a grin at the right place at the right time. Everypony present could see she was in her element, and not a one would guess that every step risked a wobble, the careening near-falls in her dance weren’t planned, and every smile was barely managing to mask how weary she really was. She even got to spend a little time with Fine Crime, who had retreated with Cotton to the Quiet Space just as predicted. To her immense pleasure, they and the few other ponies in need of it (and there were a surprisingly large number compared to Ponyville) had nothing to complain about, a source of great personal pride for her.

As the night wore on, Pinkie felt a sort of numbness come over her. It was an odd feeling, undoubtedly the result of too much activity with not enough energy, but once it hit she stopped fretting about it. It was like a sign, an indication that, yes, she could get through this. She really could! She’d crash tonight, and maybe even sleep right past the nightmares, and that only encouraged her even more. It was well into the evening and, as she knew from a lifetime of parties, nearing time for the first guests to start heading home.

Which meant she needed to do the last part. Pinkie hopped up onto Sunflower’s stage at the end of her last trick and waved to all the cheering ponies. “Hey, all you Rocksteadians! Has this been a fun party or what?” She reveled in the applause and even returned Sunflower’s flamboyant bow, and to Tartarus with what her legs had to say about it. “You’ve all been a wonderful crowd and we’re all thrilled to have you. Everypony stomp for our special guest, the Bright and Glorious Sunflower!” She shot a wink at the magician, who blushed at the improvised stage title.

When the noise died down, Pinkie continued. “And of course, none of this would have been possible without the help of Petri Collate and the staff of the Rock Bottom Inn. Come on, ponies, make the floorboards shake!” And they did, with gusto.

And so it continued as Pinkie went through announcing the groups responsible for putting the party together. In truth she did the majority of the work, but she had to get her supplies from somewhere. There were also legal issues for a shindig this big – namely permissions – that had to be acquired, which not many non-party ponies ever considered. In Ponyville this step largely wasn’t necessary anymore, because everypony there knew who Pinkie’s suppliers were. But this was Rockstead, and it was only appropriate for her to endorse those businesses. Rarity said this made Pinkie ‘surprisingly business-savvy’, but to Pinkie it was simply good manners. With the last of that done, she started to conclude her little speech. “The party’s not over yet, folks, but since I’ve got the limelight, let me say a special thanks to… to…”

Her eyes had been shifting across the happy crowd when she spotted her. No, not her, but Her. Gray in color, long mane covering her face. She was in the back of the crowd near the door, unnoticed by everyone save Pinkie. Her eyes couldn’t be seen, but that didn’t matter. Pinkie knew.

She was staring.

Pinkie’ legs wobbled. She swallowed to moisten her throat, to no avail. “I… I’m sorry, I just…” She had to finish. The speech couldn’t end like this. “What I m-mean to say is…” Shivers danced up and down her body as She kept staring. Pinkie felt her strength fading, like water going down a drain and leaving behind an ugly, empty tank. Her pulse throbbed in her ears. “I… I…”

“Pinkie? Are you alright?”

She looked to her left. Sunflower was watching her, expression concerned and hoof raised as if to catch her. Pinkie realized she was swaying to some unknowable rhythm. Her eyes started to pan back, only to land on Fine in the back of the room. The same expression of concern. But no, stronger than concern. It was fear. For her? Or for…

Pinkie looked to the back of the murmuring crowd once more.

She was still there. So small. So looming. So quiet. So loud. So… So…

“I’m s-sorry.”

Fine could only watch in mute shock as Pinkie fled the stage as if it had caught fire. What in Equestria had that been about? She disappeared upstairs without another word, leaving everypony present mystified. He cast his eyes to the back of the crowd, which she seemed to have been focused on, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

He shot a look at Sunflower. The magician’s shock faded to firmness as she nodded to him, then she turned to address the crowd with a winning smile. “Well, wasn’t that something, folks? But don’t you worry about it, the party’s not over yet.”

While she placated the crowd, Fine hurried his way through the assorted ponies. He kept his path open with a faint pocket of air that pushed anypony in his way aside, albeit gently, and made no apologies. His only concern was making sure Pinkie was okay. He just wished he knew what was going on. It had been obvious that she was having trouble keeping up tonight, at least to somepony like him who had known her for so long, but nothing he’d seen had suggested a problem. Hay, she’d even seemed to have picked up a second wind in the last hour of the night. So… what happened?

PS and Cotton met him at the stairs. By their wide-eyed expressions, they were as worried as he felt. Thank Luna Scilla had already gone home to her family. “Fine, what’s going on?” asked PS.

He blocked the route upstairs before they could follow. “I don’t know, but please, leave it to me for now. Whatever it is, we don’t want to overwhelm her.” That was his excuse, anyway. Without any ideas of what had caused Pinkie’s episode, he wanted to be the only one to talk to her about it. He wasn’t even sure why, but it felt important.

PS appeared on the verge of panic. “Y-you can’t just ask us to turn around and go home! Pinkie’s our friend, and we’re gonna—”

Cotton stopped him with a hoof on his shoulder. “That’s enough. Fine’s right, we need to give her space. Let’s trust him.”

“Trust him? We don’t even know him!”

“But Pinkie does.” She met Fine’s gaze, solemn and sad at once. “He knows her better than we do now.” He gave her a subdued smile to show his appreciation, even as he silently begged for this little confrontation to be over so he could do whatever needed to be done.

“But… She… I don’t…” PS ground his teeth, expression shifting wildly from frustration to fear to anger. At last he stomped and snorted. “Alright, we’ll do it your way! But I’m not leaving until I have answers.”

“That’s fair,” Fine said before Cotton could object. “I promise to come back down as soon as I’m sure Pinkie will be okay. Just wait, okay?” Once certain that neither pony would object, he went upstairs, making sure to keep his steps quiet.

Keeping to the shadows so as not to startle her, Fine made his way to the open door of Pinkie’s room. Standing just outside of it, he could hear her muffled crying. It wasn’t a loud wailing or sobbing, but a quiet, barely contained sniffling and mumbling. He poked his head around the doorway. The room was dark, the curtains closed and the candles out. That didn’t stop him from seeing the shivering lump squeezed into the darkest corner of the room.

Every little hiccup and moan was a fresh squeeze on Fine’s heart. Despite that, he didn’t announce his presence in any way. He closed the door, using the most subtle of magic to mute the sound of it and the lock clicking. Then, body low, he slinked through the black room to the poor wreck of a mare in the corner. As he got closer, he finally began to understand her words. This didn’t enlighten him at all.

“I’m so sorry. L-leave me alone. Please. Please. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. Stop s-staring at me. Please…” On and on it went, a broken record of guilt and pain and defeat.

The vice on his chest was too much. “Pinkie.”

Far from soothing her as he’d hoped, his voice only brought her to squeeze into an even tighter ball. “K-keep away,” she hissed. “I d-don’t want to hurt you. P-please.”

He shushed her, carefully reaching out. His hoof touched her shoulder. She jumped as if stung, a gasp choking into a fresh sob. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I’m so—”

He moved in, wrapping her in his hooves and pulling her to him. She lost none of her tension, even as he pressed her head to his chest and began stroking her mane. “It’s okay, Pinkie. I’m here. It’s gonna be okay.”

“N-no it’s not,” she mumbled, eyes closed tight. “She’s here. She’s here! She’s watching me, I just kn-now it. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

“There’s nopony here, Pinkie. Okay? It’s just us.”

“You don’t know that! She was there. I saw her. She hates me, hates me so much I—”

“Pinkie Pie, listen to me.” He brought his mouth down to her ear. “Listen to my voice. It’s me, Fine Crime. You’re okay. Do you hear me, Pinkie Pie? You’re okay.”

“But—”

“She can’t hurt you. She won’t. I’m here, Pinkie. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“Y-yes I—”

“You’re safe, Pinkie.”

This continued for so long, he wondered if the guests hadn’t all gone home. For every attempt she made to claim a danger, he made sure to block with his voice. He kept his tone soothing, used her name often, and never released her from his embrace. There was no telling if it was the right thing to do, but this was better than nothing. He hoped.

At last, Pinkie stopped trying to argue. Her crying had faded to mere hiccups and she clung to him, face hidden behind a straight mane. At least she’d calmed down, but he still didn’t know what to do next. It was so… frustrating. He should know what to do. Was holding her really enough? It couldn’t be.

“Pinkie?” She shivered, but otherwise didn’t respond. The strange reaction gave him pause, but he couldn’t just leave it at that. “Will you please tell me what’s wrong?” She shook her head. “Please?” Another shake, followed by a faint sniffle.

He barely held back from sighing, not wanting her to know how her behavior bothered him. Allowing himself a moment to consider his next move, he lowered his head so that he could whisper into her ear. “What can I do?” She merely reaffirmed her grip around his barrel.

He pursed his lips, wondered some more. There had to have been some kind of trigger. Even Pinkie wasn’t this weird. Something made her snap tonight, and he had to know what. But was it even the right thing to do, making her talk? His gaze drifted down her long mane, strangely luxurious when straight like this. To his hoof still brushing it in slow, even strokes. To her exposed neck and shoulders. He got a weird idea. An idea not like him at all. A Pinkie idea.

He brought his head down once more, this time bringing his muzzle so that it was nearly touching her neck. The faint scent of strawberries met his nostrils, along with the sugary sweetness of cake frosting and a hint of sweat. He breathed it in, then snorted into her fur. No reaction. He snorted again, the wind from his nostrils making her fur bend and twist. He moved a little closer, snorted again.

Pinkie squirmed. It wasn’t much, but it was a reaction. He snorted a fourth time.

This time she tilted her head his way while raising her shoulder, bumping his muzzle between both. Success! “Pinkie?” She mumbled something indecipherable. “I’m not stopping.” When she didn’t answer, he breathed into her neck once again.

She shivered and tightened her hold, as if this might stop him. More indecipherable mumbling. This time he blew on her neck with his lips, so close he felt her fur faintly tickling them. Pinkie let out a tiny whine and wriggled.

“Come on, Pinkie Pie,” he whispered in her ear. “Look at me?” She shook her head. This time he blew directly into her ear. It twitched and flicked wildly at his windy assault, and once again she pressed her neck to her shoulder in an effort to defend herself.

“St-stop…”

“I want to see that face,” he replied, mildly surprised at his own playful tone. “I’m not stopping until I do.” He punctuated the claim by blowing into her ear again.

This time she pulled away. Not enough to let go of him, but enough that he’d have to put in a lot more effort if he was to continue. Her face was still hidden behind her mane, but her new position gave him an advantage. He moved swiftly, catching her by the sides of her bowed head. “Look at me, Pinkie.”

She sniffed, her hold on him loose as if she’d run out of energy. Which, he supposed, might be the case. When she said nothing, he pressed his forehead to hers. She felt so cool. “Please, Pinkie?”

“I d-don’t want to.” Any elation he might have felt at getting a full sentence out of her was crushed by her dejected, quiet tone.

“Why don’t you want to, Pinkie?”

Her forelegs twitched as if she wanted to pull them close to herself, but soon returned to holding him in that loose grip. “I don’t want you to see me.”

“Why?”

Her shoulders hitched as she fought back a sob. “B-because I can’t hide it anymore. Please.”

Hide it? He felt the knife twisting in his heart, but ignored it in favor of the situation at hoof. Now, at long last, he knew what he had to say. “That’s exactly why I need to see you, Pinkie.”

The raising of her head was so slight he almost missed it. “It is?”

He shuffled a little closer, keeping his forehead touching hers and his voice soft. “Why else are we here but to open up to one another? Really open up. This is you, Pinkie. I want to know all of you. Not just the good bits. You shouldn’t have to hide from me.”

Another quiet sniff as she ran a hoof along his side in a lazy motion. It felt… strange. Not uncomfortable, though. “I w-wanted to prove I could take it. I wanted ponies to see the party pony. I’m s-sorry. I thought I could handle the party tonight. I’m supposed to be Joy, aren’t I? I h-had to be. That’s what Rockstead needed to see.”

“Don’t worry about Rockstead.” He massaged her shoulders gently. “This isn’t about Rockstead. This is about you. I’m here to be with you. Please, won’t you let me see you?”

She tensed under his hold. “You’re going to hate it.”

“That would imply hating you.” He smiled, even knowing she couldn’t see it. “You should know better than anypony that nopony hates you.”

“Not me. It. M-my…” She went quiet, finally pulling her hooves away. They folded at her chest, but he held her tight around the withers to prevent her retreat. For a few seconds all was silence and shadow. And then she raised her head. Like a curtain parting, her mane fell back to reveal her face.

Fine had not seen such a dejected countenance since his early days travelling with Fleur. The bags beneath her eyes. The cheeks marred by tears, strands of mane sticking to her fur. Lips pouty and quivering below a long, sunken, haggard face. Her eyelids drooped halfway closed, putting her weariness on full display. But even with the limited view of them, her eyes were able to convey a strange mix of emotions; fear, hurt, uncertainty, and all beneath a veil of dull fatigue.

“Oh, Pinkie Pie…”

She tried to pull away, clenching her eyes closed and shaking in his hold. “You see? Now you’re going to feel guilty because you want to help and you can’t and you’ll hate that and it’s all my f-fault.” The tears began anew as she sobbed and tried to hide behind her mane again.

One part of that little rant was accurate: Fine did feel guilty. Guilty because he’d known she was having difficulties, but not the extent. Guilty that he hadn’t gotten her to open up about how hard things really had gotten. And yet he also felt a certain relief; at last, for the first time since he’d known her, she’d let the mask fall. And, strange though it was, he wanted more of that. It was what he’d wanted all along. She was bearing herself, and for all the pain that involved, it may have been the single most touching thing anypony had ever done for him.

He parted her mane with a hoof, leaned forward, and kissed her on the forehead.

Pinkie froze, her eyes bulging and her face becoming the shade of a ripe apple. She might have even had steam coming out of her ears. Little stammers slipped through her lips before she finally managed a squeaky “W-w-w-what?”

In her stupor, she was unable to stop him from tugging her in for a full, proper hug. Her long, straight mane blinded him, cool and soft to the touch, and he couldn’t help smiling through it. “Don’t ever think you have to hide the truth from me. It’s okay if I can’t help, so long as you let me try.” Rubbing her back, heart throbbing, he whispered, “That’s all I ask: let me try. It doesn’t matter if it hurts. Special someponies aren’t afraid to hurt.”

She gasped, shivering in his grip. “I… You… You mean it?”

He pulled back to nod, unable to quit smiling. “I’m okay with hurting, as long as I’m hurting for you.” Brushing her mane back, he gazed into those tired blue eyes with their tiny pupils. “You’ve hurt enough for me as it is. It’s long past time I returned the favor.”

She blinked at his words. Her lips quivered into a fragile smile. “That was terrible.”

Waving a hoof dismissively, he countered with, “I don’t write comedy.”

Her smile strengthened, though only barely. “I can see why.” Then it faded for an anxious frown. She rubbed her forehooves together, head bowed even as she maintained eye contact. “But are you sure you want t-to…?”

He nodded, maintaining his pleasant smile. “Didn’t I say it before? If I’m going to be with you, I want to be with all of you. Please, share with me everything. Not a little, not a lot. Don’t try to hide what you think I won’t like. Everything. All or nothing.” At last losing the smile, he touched her cheek to raise her head, letting him lean closer and emphasize his next words properly. “Starting with what happened downstairs. Why did you run away?”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she almost looked down. Yet she seemed to catch herself and, with a long sigh, brought her gaze back to his. Just doing that seemed to take a lot of self-control, so he didn’t press her when she remained silent. Seconds passed as her pupils danced in tiny motions. He could easily imagine she was arguing with herself in some way. He refused to interfere with that, even as he silently begged her to respond. At last, she started to open her mouth—

A knock on the door exploded into the silence, making the both of them jump – Pinkie with an added “Eep!” She pulled away and trembled in the corner, shaking her head frantically. Fine cast one look at her shivering form and decided it would be best to get rid of their guest post haste. He had a feeling he knew who it was. He gestured for Pinkie to keep silent with a hoof to his lips, then went to the door on silent hooves. He unlocked and opened it just a crack and saw, to no surprise, that it was PS on the other side. Opening it a little further revealed that he was being flanked by Cotton and Mr. Collate.

“H-hey,” PS whispered, head low as he shifted from hoof to hoof. “Sorry, but you’ve been up here a while. We were worried.”

Fine almost stepped outside, but a barely-heard whimper stopped him in the act. He didn’t dare leave Pinkie alone right now. So he opened the door just enough that he could fit his head through and could address them… well, semi-properly. “How long have we been up here?”

“Almost an hour now,” Cotton said, her eyes glancing over Fine’s head as if she might spot Pinkie. “Is she okay?”

A lie would be so easy, but would they buy it? He wasn’t sure about Petri, but PS and Cotton probably wouldn’t settle for a simple excuse. Better to go with a half-truth. “Not really. Pinkie’s really… sensitive right now. She’s in no condition to entertain visitors. I’m sorry.”

“But what happened?” Petri asked.

“I…” Fine sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. Yet. I’m trying to figure that out for myself.”

PS frowned, frustration apparent in his gaze. “And you don’t think we can get it out of her?”

Fine hesitated. Could they? He didn’t think so, but maybe… He stepped back to glance into the darkness. Through the shadows he found Pinkie staring at him from the corner, her blue eyes shining clearly in the darkness. She shook her head swiftly and mouthed, ‘Please, no.’

Another sigh, and Fine brought his head out once more. “Sorry,” he muttered, not meeting PS’s hard gaze.

“It’s alright.” Cotton set a hoof to PS’s withers, which was enough to make him relax and step back. She then looked to Fine. “But you’ll let us know when you can?”

“That’s up to Pinkie,” Fine replied, allowing his guilt to echo in his voice. “I won’t make this decision for her. But I’ll try to convince her. Okay?”

PS once again appeared ready to argue, but Cotton silenced him with a quick look. “That’s fine,” she said. “We’ll give her some space. Just let her know. If she needs us?”

“I will.” Fine nodded, after which she and PS departed, though the stallion shot Fine one more suspecting glower.

Petri stepped forward and offered something in both hooves. Fine took it in his magic and studied the object. It was a large ball, bright pink in a clear wrapper. “What’s this?”

“Candy. My sister makes them. Calls them jawbreakers. Trust me, the name is apt.” Petri flashed a lopsided, anxious smile. “I thought maybe Pinkie’d appreciate it. Y’know, because she’s supposed to suck on it instead of swallow? I know it’s not much, but I thought it might help her mood or something.” The proprietor of the Rock Bottom Inn heaved a sigh, his ears folding back as he broke eye contact with Fine. “Yeah, it’s dumb. I just couldn’t think of anything better to offer after all the business she’s drummed up for me. Bits seems kind of callous.”

Fine considered the piece of hard candy levitating before him, then smiled. Not a strong smile, but a smile nonetheless. “I think she’ll love it. Maybe it’s just what she needs right now. Thanks, Petri.” The stallion returned the smile before turning to shuffle his way back downstairs.

With the last visitor dealt with, Fine closed and re-locked the door. He turned to find Pinkie on her hooves, though she leaned heavily against the wall. “You okay?”

Pinkie started to nod, stopped, shook her head. “Thanks for talking to them. I… I’m really not up to it right now.” Her gaze settled upon the candy in Fine’s magic. “Aww, did Petri give me a jawbreaker? That was sweet. I’ll have it later.” She took the proffered treat and slipped it into her mane with a little smile.

Then that smile was gone, like it had never existed. As they stared into one another’s eyes, Fine was once again made aware of how extraordinarily exhausted she appeared. He reached up to brush her long mane aside, unable to repress a wave of guilt that he hadn’t seen this coming sooner. He dared not voice the idea, however, for he remembered what she was afraid of at the moment. Instead, he asked, “Are you willing to share now?”

She sighed and shrugged. “It’s the nightmares. They keep getting worse. I haven’t slept properly since we got here.” She kept her gaze on the bed, though he couldn’t tell if it was to avoid his eyes or not. “I knew it was getting out of hoof, but… but I had to try. I wanted everypony to know I was okay.” She sagged and shook her head. “Looks like I screwed that up royally. I hope nopony’s mad…”

“Nopony’s going to be mad at you, Pinkie. At worst, they’ll be concerned.” He settled next to her and began stroking her mane. The motion was starting to become as much a habit for his own comfort as for hers. “You still haven’t answered my main question.”

“I know, and I swear I’m not avoiding the topic.” Pinkie leaned into him, tilting her head up to push against his hoof whenever it reached the height of its stroke. The two of them settled into a soothing rhythm, his hoof moving through her pleasantly cool mane and her head gradually bobbing up and down with it. “I just… have to do it right.”

He cocked his head in an effort to better see her face. Her eyes were downcast. “Do what right?”

“Explain.” She caught his hoof in hers, stopping the strokes, and held it close to her chest. “I can’t do this anymore. What I saw tonight, it… i-it…” Closing her eyes, she rubbed her cheek against Fine’s fetlock. With a slow, shaky breath, she began to relax again. “No more waiting. No more stalling. Tomorrow we’re going to the Rock Farm so I can tell you what happened next.”

Fine felt his heart tearing in two from conflicting desires. “B-but you need your rest. I can’t in good conscience—”

“I can’t rest,” she muttered, eyes half-opening but focused on his hoof. All the weariness and sadness was back, just as it had been before, but now there was a subdued, calm aspect to it. Fine realized what he was seeing was acceptance. “The nightmares… She won’t let me.”

His eyebrows rose. “She?”

She shook her head. “Later.” Why did he get the feeling she wanted ‘later’ to mean ‘never’?

They sat like that for a while, her holding his fetlock against her cheek as if it were a salve of some kind, but otherwise seeming lost in her own thoughts. Fine allowed this, even though he couldn’t help feeling a little awkward. The touch against his fetlock felt… strangely intimate. Was he supposed to say something? What did ponies do in situations like this? He studied her face, her gaunt features, her straight mane, her dull, tired eyes. He already missed their energy.

Then his eyes fell on her forehead, and he thought about that little kiss he’d given her. Was it normal for him to want to do it again?

“Fine?”

He twitched out of his thoughts. She shrank from his gaze, cheeks shining like bright red beacons. He could feel their building heat through the fetlock pressed against her fur. “Y-yes?”

She swallowed, stuttered, found her words. “Would you, um, stay? With me? Just to help. With the nightmares, I mean.”

Wasn’t that frowned upon at their stage in the relationship? Fine’s heart tried to leap into his chest, but he pounced on the immediate reaction and hammered it back into place. No, no, it’s not like that. She just needs help sleeping peacefully. You can do that. There’s nothing wrong or untoward or… or… Just calm down. “Of course. I can do that.” I can do that.

She offered a frail smile in thanks and leaned into him, her head pressing against his shoulder. “Thank you…”

Fine closed his eyes and let out a slow, quiet breath. Her luxurious mane against his fur wasn’t doing him any favors. But he resolved himself to the task.

He only hoped it would help.

Day 9

Fine woke quickly. It was like the old days, really; one minute he’s fast asleep, and the next he’s wide awake. Without opening his eyes, he performed the first step: identifying what woke him. It was the shower. Pinkie, then.

Second step: location. Of course he remained in her room, curled up on the floor beside her bed. Not for the first time, he silently thanked her for not suggesting he actually sleep in the bed. The very idea set his cheeks aflame.

The third step was pointless, but for old times’ sake: threats. His ears took in the birds chirping outside and the barely discernible chatter on the street outside. The inn was silent otherwise. About the only thing he might have to worry about was Pinkie using him as a stepping stool to get back to bed. Which he probably would have allowed, considering how much pain she owed him back over the course of their knowing one another.

Ah, the old routine of an Archon field agent. He so rarely did it anymore, but for some reason today it felt appropriate. There was a danger in this day, one aimed entirely Pinkie’s way. His only choice was to either stop her… or support her. Doing the former would be a lack of faith on his part, so it would have to be the latter. This by no means made him happy about it.

He opened his eyes to find his muzzle tucked just under the bed, the sheets dangling above his eyes. There was a suitcase right in front of him, and his idling mind latched onto it. He’d seen it before, but never thought much about it. He wondered what was in it. Party supplies? No, she’d bought all the supplies for yesterday in town. Curious. He chuckled at the thought that it might be her party cannon. It wouldn’t fit normally, but he knew better than to assume the laws of physics applied to Pinkie Pie.

He sat up, feeling the muscles along his back pop in a pleasant rhythm. He wondered if he wasn’t getting too old for sleeping on the floor. Princess Luna must have been guarding his sleep that night, for he couldn’t recall having any dreams. It didn’t really work that way, of course, but it was a pleasant thought. He wondered if the same held true for Pinkie.

His ear flicked as the shower died. He glanced to the bathroom in time to see Pinkie step up to the sink, soaked and with a little smile that was at least an improvement from what he’d seen last night. It had looked… well, he was hardly one to call one of Pinkie’s smiles ‘fake’. Last night had proven just how good she was at putting on masks. But now, with the bags under her eyes, her dripping mane straight and resting limp on her shoulders, and the way she held her head slightly lower as if it weighed a ton, he couldn’t help but think this was a more ‘real’ Pinkie Pie.

She hadn’t noticed him yet, or so he thought. He watched as she used a hoof to brush her mane to one side, giving him a perfect profile view of her body. As the water formed rivulets down her flanks and legs, he gained a sudden appreciation for her shape. She was small for an earth pony. Her diet of soups over the last few months had slimmed her down as well, making her seem downright tiny. He thought about how she used to look, back before… Rex. Now that he did, he realized she’d never been big in any way, mane aside. For all the sweets she was known to consume, he supposed her high energy burned the calories off quickly.

Perhaps everypony had it wrong. Maybe Pinkie didn’t get her energy from sweets, but instead ate sweets to fuel her energy. That sounded almost like the same thing in his head, but he told himself there was a difference and that was that. Perfect Pinkie Pie logic.

He was still watching as Pinkie began to towel off. Even with that common act, she moved with a curiously fluid grace, like there was a song in her head and she was working the towel to its beat. He appreciated the muscles beneath her coat, muscles he never would have guessed were there a year ago. Then he remembered the fight beneath Canterlot, and the time she’d gone hoof-to-claw against Rex. Suddenly, he realized she was far more fit a pony than he’d ever given her credit for.

And that was when it dawned upon him. Every expectation, every preconceived notion that everypony seemed to have regarding Pinkie was wrong. Terribly so. Even his own. All this time, he’d been treating her like a fragile flower in need of care to keep from shattering in a hard wind. What had he been doing all this time but struggling with a desire to know more and protect her at the same time? Pinkie wasn’t weak. Perhaps, in her own way, she’d been trying to prove that to him all this time. He realized, guiltily, that he hadn’t been helping in that regard.

This was the same pony who challenged him, a trained assassin, in a one-on-one duel in the caves beneath Canterlot. The same pony who later was able to keep up with him again when he was overpowered through possession – and almost won. The same pony who worked to protect her friend from heartache even as she suffered the same condition. Here she was, in the town of her birth, struggling to face her own fears despite all her instincts screaming at her to run away and never come back. All of this, to say nothing of the adventures she went on before ever meeting him. It was… She was…

“Fine?”

He snapped out of his thoughts only to realize he’d been staring at her flank this entire time. At least when he met her gaze he saw he wasn’t the only one blushing. He slapped on an anxious smile. “Y-yeah?”

Biting her lip at first, Pinkie finished rubbing the towel over her shoulders and tossed it aside. “Are you okay?”

Play it cool, Fine. You absolutely were not ogling her just now. “I should be asking you that. Did I help at all?” Why was he rubbing his leg? Why couldn’t he meet her gaze? Darn it, Verity! What are you, a schoolcolt?

Her little smile came back. It made moths dance in his stomach. “I did sleep a little better.”

“You did?” The moths were forgotten as he took this news in, a smile worming its way across his face. “So… no nightmares?”

Her little flinch killed his enthusiasm. “N-no, I had nightmares. But they weren’t so bad this time. I only woke up twice last night, and…” She hesitated, then turned to the mirror. She grabbed a brush and began getting the knots out of her mane. Her next words came in a nervous hush he almost didn’t catch. “Knowing you were there calmed me down every time.”

Oop, the moths were back.

“W-well, then. Glad I helped.” Fine could see her bright blue eyes fighting not to shift his way. He couldn’t keep watching her, even though he really wanted to. He tried turning his head away, but his eyes remained set on her. Damn it, Verity, she’s a mare, not a pin-up poster. Turn your ass away!

That got him moving. He went to the window and settled back down. He’d intended to take in the scenery, but instead the memory of her body was seared into his retinas. Why had he never noticed how… how pretty she was? Yes, pretty. Not the soft pretty of Fluttershy or the cultured beauty of Rarity or Fleur. Nor was it the natural, strangely exotic beauty of Octavia. He’d never been one to eye mares before his crush on Fluttershy, but that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate a pretty one when she passed him by. Pinkie had her own variety of attractiveness. Untraditional, perhaps, but still there.

Damn it, I can’t stop. Is it wrong to think about her like this? This was all so new to him. Arousal in particular was odd. Not even Fluttershy had managed to achieve that. His interest in her had been strong, but tame. Pinkie’s moistened coat and tiny smile was introducing him to an entirely different set of feelings, and he wasn’t sure how to take that. It almost felt like he was objectifying her. The very idea made him feel dirty.

But by Luna, it was so devilishly tempting.

This was… bad. Wasn’t it? If she knew what was going through his thoughts now, would she be offended? That was what he’d been led to believe all his life. Mares didn’t want to be ogled. They didn’t want to be thought of in sexual terms. And he didn’t want to be thought of as a pervert.

Don’t be stupid, Fine. Being sexually attracted to a mare for once in your life doesn’t make you a pervert. You’re overthinking this!

“Anything interesting going on out there?”

He jolted; she was sitting right next to him! When did she get there? It was at a safe distance, but with the ideas that had run through Fine’s head not five minutes ago he wasn’t sure there was such a thing as a ‘safe distance’ anymore. He couldn’t say what he was thinking. Couldn’t let her know. Damn, didn’t she already know?

You were ogling her earlier.

That doesn’t mean she knows!

Seriously?

I was just nervous. Nothing more!

Sure, nervous. That’s what she thinks.

This looks bad, doesn’t it?

She doesn’t look upset.

She’s the mistress of masks. Of course she doesn’t look upset!

Calm down and say something.

Say something? I have no idea what to say.

Oh, for the love of— This is Pinkie we’re talking about. You talk to her every day now, in perfectly casual conversations, without so much as a stutter. Why is this any different?

It’s different because she’s pretty!

And that makes sense… how?

It just does!

Shut up and say something.

And that makes sense… how?

Verity Fine Crime, this mare has made it clear she likes you. The fact that you like her back is not a problem. Now get over your Luna-be-damned anxieties, stud up, and say something, for the love of Equestria!

“Who’s t-turn is it?”

Luna had to be giving him strength. It was the only explanation for how he managed not to facehoof at his own stupidity. Why hadn’t she blessed him with brains instead?

Pinkie spoke quietly, in a calm voice that he wasn’t used to hearing from her. “Hmm… I have no idea. Lost track. Can we just say it’s mine?”

“S-sure.” He nodded, still adamantly not looking at her. The window pane was so much more interesting! “So, uh, anything you want to get off your chest?”

“Just this.”

Then she kissed him on the cheek, and Fine realized the strange experience of freezing up and boiling at the same time. He would have looked at her then, if only in shock, but his body was refusing to heed his commands. Perhaps the moths had taken him over somehow. He could feel them flapping around every inch of his body, little shivers actively working against whatever ice had locked his limbs.

Pinkie giggled. “That’s for staying with me last night, Verity.” Sweet Stars of Luna, he wished she’d use that peaceful, sweet voice from now until forever!

Her words echoed in his ears, only this time they struck a different chord. That fact dispersed the moths and thawed his body. Even the fire in his head died down as he looked to her face. Still with the bags and the weary slump and the little, pleasant smile. Her mane was back in curls, but they weren’t as wild and exaggerated as usual. They were more… tame, perhaps? “Something’s different about you this morning.”

She nodded, her eyes not leaving his. “I told you last night. No more masks. This is me. Without the fake smile and the wild energy and the silly randomness. You get me from now on.” She offered her hoof, smile growing just slightly. “Hi. I’m Pinkamena Diane Pie. It’s good to meet you.”

Fine studied her proffered hoof, then her face. The real Pinkie, was it? A new warmth, not so invasive and so very welcome, filled him. He felt… strangely light. It was such a new feeling. Perhaps through her he could experience more of it. So, acting on a whim, he took her hoof in his. Instead of shaking it, he raised it up to his face. “Verity Fine. Charmed.” He kissed her fetlock, smiling all the while.

Pinkie pulled her hoof back in a slow but exaggerated display of daintiness. “Well, aren’t you the forward one?”

They shared a chuckle, then drifted into silence. Fine couldn’t stop admiring her new… newness, for lack of a better descriptor. It was so hard to understand, but somehow this new Pinkie Pie was so very pretty. Yet as much as he thought so, his attention was drawn once more to her worn posture and tired eyes. A pretty pony, true… but how much prettier could she be without all that weight on her back?

“Your turn.”

He blinked, once again pulled from his thoughts by her new voice that was so lovely to the ears. He couldn’t resist smiling at it. “I don’t know what to talk about.”

She hummed and closed her eyes. The expression on her face, collected and thoughtful, suggested a patient insight. For a moment, that face became Fine’s whole world. He didn’t realize he’d started leaning forward until she spoke.

“Little Miss.”

Straightening up and adamantly ignoring the renewed heat in his face, he asked, “Little Miss?”

She opened her eyes and nodded. “I’ve heard you call Sunflower that. But I also once heard you call Keen Arrow ‘Little Miss’. Why? Where did it come from?”

Fine cocked his head uncertainly. “It’s… a term of endearment. I’ve given it to several fillies over the years.” Then he reconsidered. “No, just three. Sunflower was the first.”

“And Keen last.” Pinkie nodded as if confirming something to herself. Then her expression became inquisitive. “Who was the second?”

“Fleur de Lis.”

Pinkie’s brow furrowed. “That Archon friend of yours? Oh!” She smiled and nodded. “You did mention you met her when she was a filly. That makes sense.”

“Exactly.” When she said nothing else, he pressed, “And what brought this up?”

Her ears folding back, Pinkie made little circles on the floorboards with the tip of her hoof. Her voice grew a quieter with each word. “W-well, I was just wondering if… if I could… be your little miss now?”

“You?” Fine tapped his chin as he let this new thought slide around his cranium. “I’m not opposed to it, but I usually use it with little fillies.” Calling her that struck him as all kinds of peculiar.

Her timid smile was like a smoke bomb going off in his brain. “W-well, I am a lot younger than you. Old fart.”

Fine knew he should answer. Answering was important. And polite. And kept ponies from realizing that you were suffering from a mental meltdown because damn, since when could Pinkie smile like that?

“Fine? You’re not going senile on me, are you?”

He shook his head frantically, managing to disperse the clouds in his mind. He then raised his hoof and, with a flash of red magic, created an aural walking cane to wave at her in mock threat. Another quick spell altered his voice to sound gravelly and more high pitched. “No, ah ain’t goin’ senile, you whippersnapper. And get off my lawn! No, I ain’t givin’ the ball back. Crazy kids these days. Back when I was your age I… I…”

Pinkie was giggling like a madmare, and Fine couldn’t keep up the charade any longer. Soon they were leaning against one another and laughing. Fine’s voice remained altered the entire time, which made it hard for either of them to quit. Every time it seemed like they might recover, Fine would chuckle in the ‘old geezer’ voice and Pinkie would break down again, with him soon following. Eventually, Fine wizened up and undid the enchantment, but it still took them several minutes to calm down.

The two were too worn out to do much afterwards. Fine leaned heavily against the window sill while Pinkie lay on her side on the floor. Both were panting up a storm and had stopped looking at one another in a silent but mutual agreement to avoid making one another succumb to more giggle fits.

When he was finally able to breathe normally, Fine pulled away from the window and offered Pinkie his hoof. “How about we go get some breakfast, Little Miss?”

What she offered him in response wasn’t a grin; she didn’t show any teeth. Even so, it had to have been the biggest, most lovely, most honest smile she’d ever gifted him. She took his hoof and allowed herself to be pulled to standing, her brilliant blue eyes locked with his.

“I would love to.”

They stood at the edge of the rock farm, just within the shadows of the woods. Pinkie had her legs splayed and her head raised in what she imagined as a battle-ready pose. She gazed at the old farmhouse, with its collapsed wall and the holes in its roof. Every once in a while she’d dare to glance at the barn, but couldn’t bring herself to do so for more than a second before retreating her stare to something else. Every time she did, she felt like a coward.

A cool breeze sent sand rolling across the plain and dancing about Holder’s Boulder. The windmill twitched in the wind, it’s rusty creak audible even from this distance. Otherwise, the rock-strewn farmland was as quiet and still as death.

How fitting.

She’d tried, over and over again, to make her legs move. The only thing stopping her was the throbbing of her heart and the sweat beading on her brow. The tiny shivers did her little good. Fine said nothing, sitting at her side with a patience she’d have considered impossible for anypony. She had to have been standing there for at least fifteen minutes now.

Come on, Pinkie. Move!

Just pick up your hooves and walk.

She’s not there. She’d not going to punish you. It’s all in your head.

Move your hooves.

Move your hooves.

Move your damn hooves!

She’s not there. She’s not there. She’s not there. She’s not there. She’s not there. She’s not there.

She is. She’s there, I just know it…

It was clear to her that no amount of silent encouragement would get her across this insurmountable barrier. But Pinkie knew this had to be done. She refused to turn back, not until she’d at least revealed one more story to Fine.

Fine. “Fine?”

Out the corner of her eye, she saw him cast her a curious, worried look. He replied with only an affirming grunt.

“Push me.”

Getting the idea, he promptly walked behind her. She waited for the shove that would at last force her to start moving. And waited. And waited. “Fine?”

“Right. Sorry.”

Another long, silent wait. Pinkie kept her eyes locked on the farmhouse, wondering what was taking so long. Then Fine spoke. “If you buck me for touching your flank, I will be very cross with you.”

She barely had time to register his meaning and feel her face heat up before she felt his hooves shove against her hindquarters with enough force to make her start walking. Oh, Celestia, I didn’t even think about that! And now Fine touched my flanks. No, no, don’t think about it, Pinkie. You asked him to. Ponies touch flanks all the time! It’s only private in the right setting, and this totally isn’t the right setting. Fine was just giving me a push, like I asked. It wasn’t like that. But if it wasn’t like that then why did he say that oh wow that means he was thinking it does that count as heavy petting or flirting or something I don’t know and why isn’t Rarity here to explain this to me go away Rarity no no wait come back I didn’t mean it don’t you take that exit I need help because Fine touched my flanks and it wasn’t heavy but it might be and why do I keep confusing myself at times like this Pinkie you’re rambling over hooves on flanks and Fine’s hooves were on my flanks and he was thinking naughty thoughts and what do I do this isn’t a naughty thoughts situation but I don’t want him to think I didn’t like it even though I wasn’t ready which is stupid I should have been ready I asked him to touch me but not in that way should I have…?

“Pinkie!”

She shot in the air, hooves waving wildly. “Flanksies!”

She landed on her stomach in a cloud of dirt, panting wildly. When she looked up it was to find her muzzle not a foot away from the farmhouse.

A new voice: You’ve been a bad girl, Pinkamena.

Yelping, she went from on her barrel to retreating in a flash. She might have fled the farm entirely if Fine hadn’t caught her from behind. He said nothing, merely held her while she hyperventilated. He was so warm and her entire body felt chilled to the bone. She nestled into him as best she could and made herself ignore the voice in her head. She resisted the impulse to hide her face, instead staring at the house in a desperate hope that familiarity would dull the knife currently mincing her heart.

At last, her breaths normalized and she was able to pull away. “Th-thanks, Fine,” she muttered, shaking as if to rid her coat of water.

He nodded, but concern remained in his stare. “You going to be alright?”

With one last glance at the house, she turned away. “I-I don’t know yet. Come on, the next thing I want to show you isn’t here.” She headed for the back of the house, steadfastly refusing to look at it.

So far so good, Pinkie. Well, maybe not ‘good’, but you didn’t run away in terror. Because of Fine. It’s a start. And now…

Every fiber of her being told her to stop walking before the barn came into view, but she muscled past it and kept going. Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look…

She looked.

At least, she tried to look. All she saw was black. It startled her so much that she lost her focus and stopped walking. “Wa?”

“You need to get past the barn, right?”

She turned to see Fine’s horn glowing brightly. His smile was strained. “I remember what happened last time. Can we please go? Making so much shadow over such a large area isn’t easy.”

Part of her wanted to scold him for taking away a challenge that she needed to overcome eventually. Another part wanted to kiss him in thanks for the same reason. She decided to go with the second option… but without the kiss. Better to not let him lose his concentration. So instead she merely nodded with the best smile she could muster and trotted onwards to the gorge behind the farmhouse and barn. The aura around Fine’s horn died when they reached Holder’s Boulder, so she made it a point not to look back.

The massive stone rose high above their heads, as tall as eight ponies together. She smiled bitterly and muttered, “Don’t touch Holder’s Boulder.”

“Why?”

Casting a glance at Fine’s curious expression, she explained, “My big sis, Limestone, said that all the time. I don’t know why she was so protective of it.” He looked back at the rock inquisitively, but she didn’t dare. She had something else to think about. She paused at the top of the long, winding path that formed a ramp along the inside of the canyon. From there she could see, far at the bottom, the familiar mine entrance.

You can’t run from what you’ve done!

She shivered as the scream echoed through her mind over and over again. “I can’t run…”

“Hmm?”

Though her hooves felt like lead weights, Pinkie began the slow walk down the slope. She kept her eyes on the ground, taking her steps carefully. She could remember every one from that horrible evening. “She knew. Limestone caught me in the act.”

Fine was silent, though his hoofsteps echoed softly behind her. She was glad to hear them. They reminded her that the frantic hoofbeats charging her were only in her head. She forced her breathing into a slow rhythm and pushed the words out. “Surprise. Maud. Momma and Papa. All gone. All gone. Only Limestone and Granny left. I was still seeing red, still wanting more. But Limestone, she wasn’t like the rest of us. She was smart. Strong. Resourceful. Even having a Vision, I knew better than to fight her.

“So I ran.” They were nearing the bottom already. Pinkie swallowed to moisten her dry throat.

Come back here, you little monster!

“I was such a little monster…” The moment her hooves touched the bottom of the gorge, Pinkie made for the mine. She ignored the weight of her legs, though the shriek in her mind made her flinch. She came to a stop once more at the mouth of the cave. Even now, when she was so much bigger, it loomed over her like the gaping maw of a quarray eel. The mine’s interior sparkled brilliantly despite the shadows. She raised a shivering hoof, but couldn’t bring herself to move forward.

Fine was there. He caught her hoof in his and gave it a firm squeeze. The act alone was enough to melt the ice that had locked up her veins. She couldn’t smile, but she hoped the look she sent his way conveyed her appreciation properly.

With another reassuring breath, she led him inside. “I fled into the mines. Limestone came after me. She… She wanted to kill me. She’d found our parents, saw what I’d done to them. If I hadn’t been in the middle of a Vision, I probably would have let her. But instead I came in here.” Fine let out a small gasp, prompting her to glance his way. His face had gone pale. “What?”

He shook his head. “These mines. They remind me a lot of the ones beneath Canterlot.” He met her gaze and shrank back. “Pinkie… I d-don’t want to ask this, but when we fought down there…?”

“Yeah.” She turned away and bowed her head. “It brought me back to this place. To this… fight.”

“Pinkie, I’m so—”

“Don’t.” She pressed a hoof to his lips but still couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Just don’t, okay? That wasn’t your fault, and I don’t want to get distracted. I need to tell this story.”

By his eyes she knew he wasn’t happy with the request. Even so, he caught her hoof again and said nothing. Giving him what may have been the worst smile in her nearly empty barrel, she moved on through the tunnels. Her ears perked, then folded back as Limestone’s venom haunted her once more.

How could you do this, Pinkie? To your own family. Why? I want to know why!

Grinding her teeth, Pinkie checked her surroundings before guiding Fine through a leftward fork in the tunnels.

Mom and Dad. They loved you so much. They loved you, and you butchered them!

Every step was full of certainty. She couldn’t forget the route she took, the manic thoughts in her insane little head, the evil plans. And all along, Limestone’s voice came to her, sometimes strained, sometimes vicious.

You killed Maud and Surprise too, didn’t you? Maud thought the world of you. Why? For Celestia’s sake, Pinkie, what happened to you?

A sob filled the air, and Pinkie had no idea if it was hers or her eldest sibling’s. Her eyes burned, but she ignored them and kept walking. She held on tight to Fine’s hoof. Stalactites and stalagmites surrounded them like a thousand jagged teeth waiting to bite down.

We’ll see how you like it. I’ll take that psychotic pink head of yours and see if your fucking brains are as pink as your pelt!

She stopped. The path ahead of them was a wall of collapsed stone. All save for a spot to the right, which had been dug out some time in the distant past. She stared at that hole, just large enough to fit a pony. “This part of the mines was restricted. Dangerous. Papa said it was at risk of caving in. I remembered that.” She glanced at Fine, just enough to catch him staring grimly at the hole. “That was the very first time I used Pinkie Sense.”

His eyes shot to hers, a renewed horror within them.

Pinkie turned her attention to the hole, which she approached slowly. She let Fine’s hoof go, leaving him behind. “It was so easy. Just apply the right amount of force at the right wall.” The tune she’d sang that day came back to her, the words slipping through her lips.

“Down and down, in the dark she goes,
“Tumbling, tumbling, oh scary Limestone.
“Down and down, let loose her woes,
“Tumbling, tumbling, my silly Limestone.
“Cricks and cracks while you see red.
“Stacks and stacks on top of your head.
“Dance and trance, you’ll soon be dead,
“My lovely, bloody Limestone.”

She sat by the hole in the wall, head low and vision blurry. Even so, she could see her big sister even now, struggling to free herself. “She almost got away, but the rocks caught her back legs. She was pinned on her stomach.”

You little freak! I’m gonna rip you to pieces when I get out of here!

“So I started throwing rocks.”

Hey, stop it!

“And throwing.”

Ah! Pinkie!

“And throwing.”

Q-quit. Stop. Pinkie, don’t do—!

Her head jerked as she remembered that perfect impact against Limestone’s head, as if the rock had hit her instead. She sobbed. “And th-throwing…”

Pinkie. P-Pinkie… I take it back, okay? I take it back!

“And when I got t-tired of throwing, I climbed on her back.”

W-what are you doing? Get off me.

“I found a big rock. Took it in both hooves.”

No! Pinkie, please!

“And just started smashing.”

Help! Somepony help me!

“And… and I kept…”

Dad! Mo—ah! Don’t do— Y-you…

She couldn’t get more than mumbling nonsense out of her mouth. She sank to the floor and wept as the wet sounds began to echo in her ears.

N-no… Please… Pink…kie…

“That’s enough.” Fine was there, holding her in a breath stealing hug. His voice shook as he whispered into her ear. “That’s enough, Pinkie. I get it. It’s enough.”

She shook her head against his withers, unable to stop the shaking of her every muscle. “So much blood. There was so much. A-and I loved it. I was so happy for the blood! It got everywhere. M-my face, my hooves, my mane, in my mouth. And the taste. Oh, Celestia, the taste!”

“It’s okay, Pinkie.” He pulled back to hold her cheeks and look into her eyes, his visage a blurry mess through her tears. “It’s okay. Let’s get out of here. You don’t need to tell me anymore.”

“B-but… but my sister…”

He shushed her, pressed his forehead to hers. “I know it’s hard. I do. But think about why we’re here, Pinkie. Why are we here?”

Pinkie licked her chapped lips and glanced at the hole in the wall. She could see the bloody, pulpy mess that had once been Limestone, could hear the raspy breathing. “T-to… to know one another b-better?”

“To heal.” He whispered the word with enough force to regain her attention. “To face it all and move on. I had to do it once. I know you can too.”

Gripping his fetlocks, she shook her head with a sniff. She felt so heavy, like she couldn’t possibly take another step. “How do I heal from this?”

He opened his mouth. No words came out. Pain flashed through his eyes, and she knew then that he had no answer. How could he? Her situation wasn’t at all like his. He’d never killed his own flesh and blood. She stepped away from him, turned to the hole in the wall, and approached. She settled beside it again and rested her chin on the edge of the opening. “S-sometimes I thought about dying. I would wish that Limestone had succeeded. At least then she’d still be alive.

“When I was living with the Cakes, I was so scared I’d wake up one day and find I’d killed them. It took years to gather up the courage to throw parties again, but you can’t just ignore your calling, y’know?” She reached into her mane and, with little effort, pulled out a kitchen knife. She examined the sharp implement, seeing her dull, weary reflection in its shiny surface.

Fine spoke up hesitantly. “Do you always keep knives in your mane?”

She turned onto her back, imagining Limestone’s head next to her own. “I’d come home from a party. I’d retreat to my room. I’d think about Maud, or Surprise, or Limestone. I’d stare at the ceiling, a knife in my hoof.” She raised the knife above her head so that it was pointed at her eye, working to line it up just so that she could see down the straight edge of the blade. “I’d lay there and ask myself, is it worth the risk? Wouldn’t the world be safer if I just… let go? Then came the age-old mantra. I’m not a bad pony.

“I’m not a bad pony.

“I’m not a bad pony.”

“Pinkie…” Fear laced Fine’s voice. In her peripheral vision, she saw the slight glow in his horn.

She moved the knife away, rested it flat against her chest. “I never did it. I don’t know why. Fear, maybe.”

Fine answered with confidence. “It’s because you’re not a bad pony.”

She barked a feeble, bitter laugh. “Sure, I only murdered my entire family. I’m not bad at all.”

“You’re not a bad pony, Pinkie.” He kept his distance, just close enough that she could see him in her peripheral vision. Was he trying to give her space? Or maybe carefully avoiding the scary psychopony. “You know as well as I do what is truly responsible. I shouldn’t have to lecture you on it.”

She hummed, not bothering to hide her disbelief. Would a good pony have allowed the Visions to overwhelm her? She felt sick, like she’d lose her breakfast at any moment. Rubbing her squirming belly with her free hoof, she muttered, “I can still hear her breathing. Ragged. Whistling, like through a broken straw. Sometimes a little gurgle from the blood.” Closing her eyes, she dropped the knife at her side and curled into a ball right where she knew her sister had breathed her last. “When I came out of it, she was still alive. I… I just ran. I left Limestone here to die alone and shattered and… and… I didn’t even have the courage to stay with her in her final moments. I just wanted to wake up from the nightmare.”

Fine was at her side, squeezing into the small hole. He wrapped a leg around her shoulder and kept her close. He said nothing. Perhaps he knew nothing could help her. Not here. Not now. Pinkie wasn’t sure she even wanted him here. This was Limestone’s place.

But she didn’t push him away. She pressed herself all the more tightly against his warm body and sobbed into her hooves. It was all she could do.

They remained down there for a long time, Pinkie reflecting on what she’d done and how she could have prevented it. It certainly didn’t feel good to tell the story, but she did feel… lighter, if that was the appropriate word choice. And at least now there was somepony who knew, who understood. She didn’t think she’d ever get over what she’d done, but having somepony to lean on made everything a little less terrible.

When Fine finally suggested they go, she didn’t argue. If anything, she was glad. She couldn’t help but think Limestone had been with them the whole time, glaring from the shadows and cursing her to Tartarus. Pinkie didn’t blame her, and could only take the haunting sensation for so long. She let Fine guide her out by the hoof, her steps dragging and her eyes downcast.

So when they left the cave, she didn’t realize Tine Oscillation was waiting for them at its opening until the mare shouted. “What the fuck are you doing bringing her here?”

All thoughts of Limestone disappeared. Pinkie looked up just in time to see a snarling, red-faced Scilly punch Fine off his hooves. “Scilly! What are you—?”

Scilly snorted steam and loomed over Fine, who met her glare with a neutral, expressionless stare. “Do you have any idea what happened here? Are you trying to scar her for life? You’re a monster, and if you think I’m going to let you screw with Pinkie’s head and—”

“Stop!” Pinkie shoved her foalhood friend away from her coltfriend. “Just stop, Scilly! Fine didn’t make me come here.”

Scilly’s face twisted into a grimace. “Pinkie, I know you think he’s a good guy and all, but the fact he brought you here at all is proof that he’s not. Now come with me, we’ll get you someplace safe and—” She tried to pull Pinkie away by the shoulders, but the pony didn’t budge. “Pinkie!”

“I brought Fine here, not the other way around.” Pinkie pulled the hooves from her shoulders and held them tightly. “He’s not forcing me into this. I want his help. I needed to see this.”

“You what?” The fire left Scilly’s eyes, her ears folding back. “B-but Pinkie, this is where… Why? Why would you do this?”

“Because I need closure, Tine.” The use of her formal name made Scilly shrink back. Pinkie kept her voice quiet and patient. “Fine… has an idea of what I’ve been through. I need what he has. I need to get past this.” Even if I don’t think that’s possible.

Scilly’s eyes scanned the cave behind Pinkie, uncertainty and fear making her seem small. “Are you sure this is the right way to do that? P-Pinkie, couldn’t you… I don’t know. Try something else?”

“There is nothing else.” Pinkie embraced her friend tightly. “Thank you for worrying. Thank you for coming to my defense. But I’ve held back from doing this for too long already.”

Her friend returned the hold, her hooves quivering. “I should have been there the first time. I sh-should have searched harder. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Pinkie nuzzled into the mare’s black fur. “It’s not your fault I ran so far away.”

It was some time before they separated, at which point they noticed Fine standing a safe distance away. A bruise was rapidly developing on his cheek, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, Fine!” Scilly bowed to him, all but burying her head in the dirt. “I am so sorry! I just saw Pinkie coming out of this terrible place and reacted.”

Fine smiled and shrugged. “I’ve had worse. Not going to blame you for getting protective.”

“W-well, that’s a relief, I suppose.” Scilly relaxed a bit at this, though she continued to blush profusely.

“But if I might ask?” Fine raised a hoof as if to catch an audience’s attention. “How did you know we were here?”

Sitting up properly, she replied, “PS told me what happened at the party. I went to the inn this morning to check on Pinkie, and the owner said you were headed to the rock farms. I put two-and-two together. I, uh, may have added it up to more than it was.” She rubbed her mane back and averted her eyes. “Make it up to you over lunch?”

Fine’s glance at Pinkie was clearly a query. She smiled and said, “I think that’ll be okay. I don’t want to stick around this place any longer, anyway.” She cast one last glance at the cave and shivered. She really hoped Fine would stay by her bed again tonight.

As the three made for the path leading out of the gorge, Pinkie leaned towards Fine. “Why didn’t you dodge Scilly’s punch? I know you could have.”

He sighed and rubbed his bruised cheek. “Why beat myself up when somepony else is willing to do it for me?”

Pinkie didn’t like that answer at all.

Day 10

Pinkie awoke with a start, only years of practice keeping her from crying out. She lay on her back with a hoof to her chest, sucking down air in quick gulps as her heart pitter-pattered in its familiar dance. It hadn’t been such a bad one this time. She wondered if Princess Luna was somehow helping her out. It would be a first.

Gradually, her pulse eased and her breathing slowed. She glanced out the corner of her eye to see the faintest hints of morning light through the curtains. At least she could say she got a full night of sleep. Those were becoming rare commodities these days. Not quite ready to get up, she turned to her side and—

She was there. Pinkie felt her heart stop at the sight of that pale mane completely covering the face, half a head poking up from behind the bedside. Chills ran along her skin with the hideous awareness: She was watching.

Still as stone.

Trembles assaulted her body. She opened her mouth to speak, but could only manage a hoarse whistling through her clenched throat. She didn’t move.

Still as death.

Pinkie’s legs flopped against the sheets. Efforts to push herself away failed, her strength sapped away by the twisting emptiness in her guts. “F-F-Fine…”

She moved.

In a blink, Her face was in Pinkie’s, close enough their muzzles nearly touched. Close enough the chill radiating from her froze the mare’s living blood. Close enough her hissing throat could be heard straining to suck in the very air Pinkie breathed.

In the same blink, Pinkie found her strength, if not her voice. She scrambled back with a whimper that was meant to be a scream and went tumbling over the side of the bed… and the slumbering Fine Crime. She crashed to the floor and crawled into the corner. By the time she looked up Fine was on his hooves with his horn glowing a bloody red, the aura filling the room in shadow. She was nowhere to be seen, gone as fast as She’d appeared.

Fine’s head swiveled about in sharp motions, almost birdlike. His eyes held a fiery intensity she rarely saw, alert and focused as if he hadn’t been asleep five seconds ago. He turned to her and she flinched, hiding her face behind her hooves. “Pinkie, what happened?” His voice was as hard as his expression, intense and no-nonsense.

It wasn’t a dream. She’s here. She knows where I sleep at night. What am I going to say? H-he’ll make us leave. Not yet. Not yet. Oh, Celestia, she knows where I sleep!

“Pinkie?” His tone softened, Fine ran his fetlock along her foreleg. “Are you alright?”

She peeked at him from between her legs. His rosewood eyes had lost all their intensity, which had been replaced entirely by concern. He wasn’t upset with her? She glanced over his shoulder and felt the chill in her blood recede; She was gone. “J-just a nightmare,” she whispered. “That’s all. Just a really bad nightmare.”

His sigh was either in relief or in frustration. That she couldn’t tell which disturbed her considerably. Still, his smile was genuine enough. He ran a hoof through her messy mane and settled on his barrel in front of her. “Okay. Just a dream.”

Pinkie couldn’t help but think that he was really handsome just then, with his comforting eyes and red mane all akimbo. She was glad he’d stopped dying it black. After a slow breath, she lowered her legs from her face and allowed a weak smile. Not a fake one to hide her lingering fear. She would offer him no more of those. Just a little one to let him know how much she appreciated his patience.

He abruptly looked away, his cheeks turning rosy. He’d been doing that a lot lately. She didn’t know why, but it was certainly cute. Too bad she couldn’t stop glancing at the bed, half expecting to see that white mane on the other side.

She knows where I sleep.

The fact twisted its way through her brain, and her blood started to freeze again.

I need to get out of this room.

“I th-think…” She flinched at Fine’s glance. “I think we might as well get up. I mean, it’s almost morning.”

His eyes shifted to the window. He nodded. “Close enough. Not sure what we’ll do at this time, though. Petri’s not gonna show up for work for an hour at least.”

That, at least, was easy. It even warmed her a bit, especially in the cheeks. “We’ll just talk. I’m happy to spend the morning talking. If it’s with you.” Fine shot her a look, the fire in his face turning up an extra notch. Only then did Pinkie realize why, and suddenly the room felt like it was a furnace. “Oh. I said that last bit out loud, didn’t I?”

He gained what may have been the dopiest grin she’d ever seen on his features. Which wasn’t saying much, considering Fine wasn’t one for dopey grins. It was mind-bendingly endearing. He stood up and brushed himself off, then offered her a hoof. “I’m flattered you think so highly of my conversational skills.” Right. Conversational skills. That’s what she was thinking about right now. Not the way his rosewood eyes seemed to shimmer in the darkness, or how delightfully warm his hoof was as he helped her up. “I’ll wait while you get ready.”

The fuzziness of her mind cleared a bit. “Get ready?”

He nodded, not losing his grin as he patted her head. “No offense, Pinkie, but you look a mess. Rarity would probably faint.”

Oh. Right. Morning routine. She cast another glance at the bed. It was blessedly void of apparitions. “Okay. I’ll… be right back.” Then she turned to the bathroom.

And stood there, her thoughts swirling around how small the room would be, and how Fine wouldn’t be able to see her. If something happened and she cried for help, would he be able to get there before… Before what?

I have no idea what she’ll actually do to me.

But I sure as hay don’t want to find out.

“You okay?”

She jumped at Fine’s query. “I…” Chewing her lip, she struggled with herself. If she said anything, would he press her? This was the last thing she wanted to talk about. She was starting to hope she could skip it entirely. Yet her next attempt to approach the bathroom ended with hoof dangling in the air, unable to take that first step. The idea of being in that little room, alone, so easily cornered…

With a whimper, she stepped back. “C-can I use the one in your room?” Goddess, she felt like such a child.

“Of course you can.” The answer came without hesitation. He must have suspected the question was coming. He walked past, flashing her a soft smile as he did. “Let me get your things.”

With hooves glued to the floor, Pinkie waited for Fine to ask. He slipped into the bathroom, disappearing from sight. When he emerged mere seconds later he had Pinkie’s toiletries floating over his head. “Anything else you need me to grab?” He wasn’t going to ask? Her eyes flicked to the different items: toothbrush, mane brush, a bottle of her favorite shampoo (strawberry, of course), and… “I didn’t know you used turpentine.”

That was what had his attention? “Only sometimes.” She rubbed her foreleg and glanced away. “I move around a lot. Sometimes my hooves hurt. It helps.”

He hummed in apparent curiosity. “Makes sense. Don’t let Rarity see it, though.” At her questioning look, he smirked. “She’ll want to know why you’re doing it yourself instead of going to the spa.”

Pinkie shook her head hard. “No, no, no! Not a chance. If I did that, everypony in Ponyville would figure out that I’ve got soft hooves.”

He cocked his head to one side, brow furrowed. “And that’s… bad?”

She gasped at his ignorance. “It is! I’m a party pony. It’s my job to make everypony else happy. If ponies knew my hooves start hurting after a few hours of work, they’d be all concerned and suggest I take breaks and have less fun and then I’m a party pooper and there is no such thing as a party pooper party pony, no sir! And I’m not going to be the first.” She punctuated the claim with a stomp and her muzzled raised high. “I’ll go to the spa and get hooficures and mane therapy treatments and all those other things Rarity thinks are oh-so neat and nice, but Pinkie Pie takes care of her own hoofsies, thank you very much.”

Fine watched her, his expression deadpan and an eyebrow raised. He seemed to be waiting for her to continue. At last, he asked, “Isn’t getting a hooficure also considered ‘taking care of your hoofsies’?”

Sputtering for a moment, Pinkie stomped again in the hopes that it would make her look more confident than she suddenly felt. “It’s not the same thing.”

With a chuckle, he raised a hoof in surrender. “Alright, if you say so. Come on, you’re not the only one who wants to freshen up for the morning.”

It was only when they were out of the room that Pinkie realized Fine may have set up that entire conversation to get her thinking about something other than her fears. She didn’t know that for sure, but it sounded like something he’d do. She cast one last glance at her closed bedroom door but saw nothing unusual about it. A shiver ran down her spine regardless.

Fine’s room. She’d not been in here… Had she ever? It seemed oddly dark, even considering the early hour and the closed curtains. She glanced around, nonplussed.

“Oh, right.” Horn glowing with his dark red aura, Fine turned to the center of the room and cast a spell. Gradually, like a fog fading away, the room brightened to normal levels. “There. Why don’t you take your shower first?” When he turned to her she was still eyeing their surroundings. “What? It’s just a shadow enchantment.”

A shadow enchantment. He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world. But normal ponies didn’t take comfort in extra darkness, or so Pinkie thought. It made some sense, especially given Fine’s special talent and proclivity for secrecy, but to have darkness around as often as possible? Maybe it helped him sleep. Did that make her room uncomfortable for him? Should she have offered to let him do that to her room?

Realizing he was still watching, she shook off her hesitation and smiled. “Sorry. Just thinking. You sure I can go first? It’s your bathroom.”

With a handsome smile (as if he had any other kind), Fine waved his hoof and performed an extravagant bow. “Proper stallions never go before a lady.”

Pinkie’s heart played the drums with her ribs and she realized she was grinning. “What’s the rule about going at the same time?” An explosion of red flashed across his entire face, and she was sure hers looked similar. “Kidding! Th-that was just a joke. Ha. Haha?” She retreated hastily for the bathroom, banging her flank into the doorframe. “Oops. Um, yeah. This way.” Into the bathroom she went, hurrying to turn the water on for the shower. She paused halfway in, whimpered, then hurried back to the door. “Umm, shampoo, p-please?”

“Shampoo?” He blinked, then flinched. “Right! Shampoo.” He levitated the bottle her way, and she snatched it out of the air with her mouth before hurrying back to the shower.

That was stupid, Pinkie. Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could you let something like that slip out? Now he’s gonna think you’re that kind of party pony. Oh, Celestia, what if he takes it as an invitation? That… might not be so bad, come to think of it. She froze, a dollop of shampoo on her hoof as she considered that possibility. Then she violently shook her head and began to wash her body. No, bad Pinkie Pie! You aren’t anywhere near at that level yet. Are we? We sure as hay aren’t going about this the normal way. Oh, Rarity, why aren’t you here to tell me what to do? No, wait, she’d just try to milk that aspect all the more. Wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you? No, wait, I’m sorry, come back! Dang it, why do I keep making her exit when I need her the most?

She snorted and tried to focus on her work. Then her hooves slipped over the now-familiar bumps and pits of her scars. Her stomach squirmed as she idly rubbed the spot along her barrel. Why can’t this be simple? Getting these scars was easier than talking to Fine. Which was dumb. Dumber than dumb. It was idiomoronipid, which she decided was now officially a word. How else could she fully describe the sheer amount of idiocy, stupidity, and… moronicity? Was that a word? Eh, it was now, just like idiomoronipid, because it was required to describe the problem. She spoke to Fine all the time. Why was it different whenever she tried to convey her…

Desire.

There was a distinct possibility that Pinkie’s cheeks were the prime cause of the shower’s steam. But she couldn’t ignore the word, could she? It was the most accurate right now. She desired him. His handsome features were one thing, but then there was the kind manner he put on display so freely. How he tried to be there for her even when he knew he couldn’t help. She’d already opened up to him in a way she’d never opened up to anypony. If he walked in right now and declared his intention to…

Oh, wow, the water was really getting hot. But you’d do it, wouldn’t you, Pinkie?

She shook her head hard enough to send water splashing against the shower curtain. Fine wasn’t like that. He never once spoke of sexuality. It wasn’t like he thought it improper, it was more like he just wasn’t interested. He’d told her once that he’d never felt attracted to Fluttershy on a sexual level. He wouldn’t lie about that… Would he? Rarity once implied that stallions lied about that kind of thing all the time, but Fine wouldn’t. Surely.

She paused in her scrubbing as her hoof drifted across another scar, this one on her hind leg. Who am I kidding? What stallion wanted to touch something like that? She was a mess of scars. True, they weren’t really visible unless a pony was trying to find them, but he’d be able to feel them. That would be enough. And she’d never been attractive to stallions anyway, so what was the point of thinking about sex? She’d need every advantage in the book to catch Fine’s eye that way. If Fluttershy couldn’t do it, she didn’t stand a chance.

There’s still the dress. She huffed a feeble laugh. As if that would help. But then, Rarity had made it, and she’d want to know Pinkie had at least tried. It was pointless. It had to be. Yet if she returned to Ponyville and had to tell Rarity she’d never even put the thing on…

It would have to be done, and soon. They had less than a week left. Maybe tonight? Or tomorrow. Or never. I’ll throw the suitcase in the river and pretend I lost it or something. The image of Rarity’s crestfallen face in her mind’s eye ended that idea with a whimper. Pinkie slumped to her haunches and pressed her hooves to her cheeks.

The water swirled down the drain. The droplets flowed off her mane like rivers around her face, splashing noisily on the tub’s floor. She let those splashes be her entire world, every drop an explosion at a miniature scale. She imagined it masking the beating of her heart, whittling it down until it was but a phantom of its former self. Every drip flowed into the small vortex, sucked into a dark abyss to who knew where. Pinkie wondered if she couldn’t go there, too. Anywhere was preferable to here right now.

Fine wouldn’t desire her. Fine wouldn’t love her. He would be her friend, her companion, her shoulder to cry on, but it would never go further than that. She wasn’t good enough. She was damaged. Baggage. Dead weight. And he was…

In the shower with her.

Pinkie went stiff as a board as his leg wrapped about her withers and he pressed the side of his head to hers. “F-F… F-F…” Her tongue flopped uselessly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. It was the sultry sound she’d both longed for and dreaded. “I’m here, Pinkie. Whatever it is, I’m here. Okay?”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Both felt appropriate. The sound that tore itself from her throat was somewhere in between, a hiccupping sob of a giggle that tortured the ears. Her throbbing heart demanded she flee as fast as she could… but for how much she hurt, being this close to him was not something she could walk away from. So she pressed her body to his and tucked her head under his chin.

Time passed, only their quiet breathing and the pattering water to break the silence between them. Pinkie had so much she wanted to say and no idea how to say it. He was so warm. She watched out the corner of her eye while his coat gradually became soaked through, the rivulets of water shifting to new paths through his fur. She’d never seen him wet like this. It really accentuated his muscles. For such a lanky stallion, he was quite rugged.

As her pulse slowed and her fears retreated to prepare their next attack, she at last found her voice. “Were you watching me?” She’d meant it to sound teasing.

“You were taking a while,” he muttered in her ear. “I was starting to wonder.”

Coming to her rescue. It seemed they did that a lot for each other. She nuzzled against his chest with a smile. “Thanks.” Pulling back, she gave him a peck on the cheek. “My hero.”

His face turned red, but he didn’t display his usual anxiety this time. He touched his cheek with a gentle smile that matched his soft rosewood eyes. “Any time, Little Miss.” Oh, how that phrase made her heart flutter. Maybe it was pointless, but she’d follow the lie. Who could blame her for indulging?

After a long period of meditative silence, Fine spoke. “Are you going to be alright?”

I have no idea. “Yeah, I think so. Um, we should probably go before we get all pruny.”

“And use up the entire town’s hot water.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I have no intention of breaking Spike’s seven hour bubble bath record.”

“It’s eight hours now,” she pointed out with a grin. “He realized he could use his own breath to heat the water, which is why nopony noticed.” There was a pause, brief but awkward. “I can’t get out. There’s a stud in my way.”

“Message delivered.” He stepped away, and they shivered in unison with the loss of one another’s body heat. Pinkie planted her hooves firmly on the tiles and adamantly denied the urge to press up against him some more. Pulling some towels from the linen closet, Fine began drying himself and offered her one in the process. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

The warmth in her heart shriveled. Pinkie buried her face in the towel to buy herself time to work up the courage. When she at last came up for air, she replied, “Back to the farm.”

Fine, now halfway backed out of the room, cast a wary glance her way. “Are you sure? We just went there yesterday.”

She muscled her way past the hesitation, muzzle held high in what she hoped was a confident pose. “I’m sure. There’s not much time left to do this and I want to get it over with.” Working the towel along her back, she adamantly avoided looking at him.

“Alright, then.”

Pinkie blinked and turned to him just as he was tossing his towel on a rung. Magic made the drying process so much faster. “Aren’t you gonna try and stop me?”

He shook his head. “If you say this has to be done, then it has to be done. Besides, I’m eager to end this so you don’t have to suffer through it anymore.” He pawed at the tile and averted his eyes. “I don’t like watching you struggle through this.”

She smiled at him. “Thanks, Fine.” Then, on afterthought, “You need a nickname.”

His head rose along with his eyebrows. “A nickname? Why?”

Now running the towel along her barrel, she replied, “You call me Little Miss. I gotta call you something back. I’m not gonna hog the pet names.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not sure there’s a pet name that works with me, Pinkie.”

“Spotty!”

He blinked, face deadpan, then glanced at his leg and the many brown splotches that made up his appearance. “Is that supposed to be in relation to my dappled coat?”

Pinkie’s ears perked, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Broody. Moody. Dude-y! No, wait, Redhead. Red… dude? Red Skull? Red Eye? A-ha, Fireball! Firestarter? Flaming Flamey McFlamerson. Wait, what about Shadow and Interceptor? Oh, no, I’ve already got a nickname. Duh, Pinkie Pie. Ooh, Rapscallion!” She growled playfully and waved her hooves like a manticore.

“I think I’m fine being Fine,” he replied with a roll of his eyes.

They couldn’t fool her, though; Pinkie knew smiles like the back of her hoof, and there was such a thing as smiling without smiling. An open book, that’s what he was. She smirked as the towel moved on to her hind legs. “Don’t be such a party pooper, you—wait! That’s it! Peepee!”

Fine’s eyebrows would have hit the ceiling were they not attached to his face, which had gone a shade paler than normal. “W-what?”

“Peepee.” Tossing the towel aside at last – it landed perfectly folded by the sink – Pinkie nodded firmly. “For Party Pooper, because that is what you most definitely are. I’m not sure even Cranky is as much of a party pooper as you are. Which makes Peepee perfect, Peepee.”

“Oh, Luna, no.” He shook his head frantically. “Do you have any idea what ponies with the wrong kind of mind would do with that?”

Pinkie scoffed and waved her hoof dismissively, maintaining a regal air. “Pish-posh, Peepee. Nicknames are supposed to be embarrassing.”

Fine narrowed his eyes at her. “Little Miss isn’t.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Stallion nicknames are supposed to be embarrassing.”

He threw his hooves up high. “That’s not even remotely fair.”

“Tough. Them be the rules.” She strutted past him, flicking her tail under his chin as she did. “Now come on, Peepee, it’s time to blow this balloon stand.”

He snorted and swatted her tail away. “Oh, hay, no, Sugarflanks.”

The name jolted through Pinkie with enough force to send her stumbling and tumbling to the floor. She shot back up and spun to face him. “W-what did you call me?” Seeing his smarmy grin, she growled and scrapped the floor. “Funny. Now you’re calling me fat.”

He waved his hoof in a near-perfect imitation of her earlier disdain. “You’ve been on a medically-induced diet for months, there’s nothing fat about you. I can’t help the way other ponies might interpret a mere nickname, though. Hmm…” Smiling down on her, he rubbed his chin as if in thought. “I do wonder what a pony with the wrong kind of mind would do with that, Sugarflanks.”

She frowned before glancing at her flanks, her eyes drifting along her curves. Her stomach flipped as she imagined less refined stallions doing the same thing. Only one stallion was allowed to do that. “No fair.” Wait, why am I letting this get to me? We’ve already established I’m not attractive.

Fine strolled to her side and gestured with his head to the door with all the confidence of Princess Celestia at the Sun Court. “Well, Sugarflanks, shall we?”

Attractive or not, it bugs me. Well played, Peepee. She pouted at him and nodded. “Fine, we’ll keep them private. Party pooper.” At his gracious bow and flamboyant wave, she led the way out of the room. “You win this round, but just wait until we’re back in Ponyville and I’ve got Dashy to back me up! You’ll rue this day, Verity Fine, oh yes, you will rue it so hard.”

He trotted at her side and a step behind, grinning like a schoolcolt. “Do you even know what that word means?”

“Don’t get cute with me, Peepee.”

He scoffed and moved on ahead. “I can’t. You’ve got a monopoly on cuteness.”

For the second time that morning, Pinkie stumbled over his words. Her eyes darted to the door of her room, her thoughts leaping to the suitcase beneath the bed.

Pinkie was beginning to hate this hill. She’d intentionally wasted five hours of their morning visiting with the soon-to-leave REGAL workers, talking to Sunflower, and taking her precious time eating her bowl of breakfast soup, all for the sake of postponing having to stand in this spot. For all her fretting and procrastination, none of which Fine objected to, here she was. The farmhouse in the distance, Holder’s Boulder barely visible over the barn that she adamantly refused to look at, the gorge like a massive crack in the world itself. Her heart was heavy, as always… but not quite so heavy as usual. The thought gave her hope that maybe all this was helping after all.

“Do you need a push?”

She glanced at Fine. He glanced back, concern in his eyes. She allowed herself a moment to focus and consider her situation, flexing her legs one at a time and taking in her slow, calm breaths. “No. I think I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“But of course.” He nodded, then turned his gaze forward once more. “So. Where to today?”

She sighed, directing her attention to the farmhouse. “There’s not much left. Home. I-I haven’t set hoof in the old farmhouse in so long…” She swore there were worms squirming in her insides, but she pushed down her nausea and began to walk. The first few steps were trembling, but soon they were firm and steady. The farmhouse pulled her forward, and she knew that there could be no turning back now. “Let’s finish the story.”

There were no voices, no haunting glimpses. Even She was absent this morning. Pinkie knew better than to think she was getting a break. The pervading silence, broken only by the soft sounds of their hooves on the path, loomed over her like an apparition unto itself. Pinkie held her head high, though even that display of bravado was taxing.

At their sedate pace it was some minutes before they reached the fence. Tempting though it was to stop and take the old house in, Pinkie forced her legs to keep going. The last thing she needed now was a pause to let hesitation sink in. She passed through the place the gate once stood and marched for the front door, trying her best to not acknowledge the trembling in her knees. She could hear Fine walking close behind, ever ready to help should she falter. A firm reminder that she couldn’t do so now. Her hoof rose. She twisted the rusted door handle and pushed.

With a crack of ancient hinges, the whole door fell backwards into the house. The resulting bang made her jump, and she had to cover her face against the cloud of dust that swept over her. It did little good, and soon she was coughing at the grainy texture in her throat. Even distracted as she was, she soon realized Fine wasn’t doing the same. When she looked back, she saw a face of stoic concentration and closed eyes. It took her a few hacks to realize he wasn’t breathing at all.

The air cleared and she shook the dust from her coat. Fine did the same, and only afterwards did he open his eyes and start breathing again. Pinkie wanted to ask him how he’d learned to do that but had more pressing matters on her mind. Matters like the deathly quiet room just beyond the doorway.

The worms were back with a vengeance. Pinkie cringed and tried to think of pancakes. Even that unpleasant memory did little to help. Swallowing failed to moisten her throat, but whether that was because of the dust or something else she couldn’t say. At last, trembling, she stepped into the room.

The furniture was gone. Half the floorboards were warped and splintered. Mold and fungus grew on the walls and the ceiling had collapsed in one corner. The looming silence had returned, only this time Pinkie felt it like a physical weight pressing down on her back and shoulders. It took all she had not to drop to her knees. Her eyes traced the cracks in the wall, stopping at every door, then settling on the a spot in the corner. Breathing becoming erratic, she approached. The spot was covered in dirt and debris, but she kicked some aside with ease. Sure enough, there was the old scratch on the floor. She raised her eyes to where ancient memory guided them and muttered, “I’m home.”

She collapsed.

Fine was at her side in an instant, kneeling on the floor and pressing tight against her. He said nothing, and for that she was grateful. She pushed back, wishing his warmth would ease the shivers away. It didn’t, but she kept trying. “D-Dad’s chair,” she mumbled, idly running her hoof along the faint impression in the wood. “R-right here. He liked to be w-where he could see the door. Something about always being ready to guard the family. Dad was protective like that.”

Resting her head on her crossed fetlocks, she tried to fight back the tears. From this angle she could see the chair in her mind’s eye, tall and imposing. To her filly self, it had been like a throne. The fact it was a threadbare hand-me-down that had been in the family for three generations had done nothing to stop her foal-like imagination. And there sat her father, looking down on her with his brilliant amber eyes boring into her heart. For an instant she was five years old again, and nothing was so scary as his narrowed gaze. He never needed to raise a hoof against his children when a single disappointed glance did the job for him.

Her moment of regression popped when Fine spoke up, though his voice was timidly soft. “What was he like?”

Her father? She closed her eyes and tried to think of all she knew. “He was… like a rock.” The comparison made her smile through her sniffle. “Dad had one of those hard faces. Y-you know how everypony has a ‘neutral’ expression? Like, a pony might appear happy all the time, but she’s really not, she just looks it. She could be having a terrible day and be totally miserable, but you wouldn’t know it because her neutral face had a smile. Dad was like that, except he wasn’t smiling. He always had this stony frown. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he was always angry at something.”

Her smile broadened. She rubbed the tears from her eyes and pressed tighter against Fine’s side. “But Dad wasn’t mad, not really. He just didn’t know how to show his emotions on the outside. He didn’t smile much, but I knew when he was happy anyway. He was really a nice guy. Me and… and…” A shudder ran through her. Don’t think of Her. A breath. Another. Her pulse steadied.

Opening her eyes at last, she lifted her head to free her leg and run circles in the floor with the tip of her hoof. “My sisters and I would play games, and our favorite was the ‘Make Dad Smile’ game. He liked to play that one. Then he’d be frowning on purpose, and making him stop was so hard. But we always won in the end. S-sometimes I think he let us, but we’d always end the game laughing and happy. I remember when I threw my first party, and he… h-he…”

The worms were back, and they’d brought friends. A shudder rushed through her as memories of trembling lips speared her very soul. “My c-cutie mark. I n-never saw him smile so much. He smiled for my party!” The wave came unexpectedly, and it hit hard. She was sobbing before she knew it, face buried in her legs as a force impossible to resist took hold. “I’m sorry. I’m s-so sorry!”

She could see him in his chair, lying back and reading, unaware of her climbing onto the headrest. The shift in his body as he noticed. The way he tensed, ready to catch her, probably thinking she intended to pounce on him. He never saw the knife. When she slit his throat, the gurgling sound… The way his head rolled back and his shocked eyes met hers. The way they seemed to ask the obvious questions. Even then, he never so much as raised a hoof to stop her.

That only made her heart twist even more, and a new wave of tears crashed onto her forelegs.

But she could only cry for so long. Eventually the tears stopped, and though her throat burned and her eyes stung, she knew it wasn’t really over. She started to rise on shaky legs. Fine helped her up. “You don’t have to—”

“I slit his throat.” The words burst out, a band-aid being ripped off. They silenced Fine as effectively as any muzzle. “D-don’t try to stop me. It’s almost done. L-let’s get it over with.” She moved past him, stumbling and wobbly. The doorway to the kitchen. This time her stomach didn’t twist. But it did do something, and the sensation nearly toppled her. She leaned heavily against the wall by the doorframe, head hanging low, and took slow, shaky breaths. Saliva dripped from her lips. She pressed a hoof to her stomach and willed it to end the swirling, nauseating shifts. Her breakfast threatened to escape at any second.

“Pinkie?”

She shushed him. Now was not the time for interruptions. She focused on the mold between her hooves, centering her attention on it. Calm. Control. Don’t think about the sickness. Breathe in. Breathe out. You can do this, Pinkamena.

Though her stomach never really settled, it calmed enough that she was at last able to stand on her own once more. That changed the instant she stepped into the kitchen proper. Though the table and chairs were gone, as well as all the decorations, the cabinets remained in place, broken doors and all. When her eyes settled upon the rusted oven with its missing door, she lost the battle and spilled her breakfast all over the floor.

“Pinkie!” Fine just managed to keep her from collapsing in her own mess. He pulled her back, and she could feel the tremble in his forelegs. “This was a mistake. We should—”

“No!” She shoved him away and tripped towards the oven. Her legs were like jelly, but somehow they got her there. Only when she reached the derelict appliance did she give up the fight, collapsing with one leg inside it. A ghost of a scent raided her nostrils, there and not there at the same time, and she gagged for lack of any contents in her stomach. “Momma. Oh, Momma! I stabbed you and stabbed you and burned you a-and I was such a bad filly!”

“Pinkie, I don’t think—”

“It’s too late! I’m here!” She looked up at the brown and red blur that was Fine and felt all her energy evaporating. She felt weaker than a newborn foal, and made no attempt to wipe away her fresh tears. “Why, Fine? Why did it have to happen? What made me do it? I never wanted to be a murderer!”

Suddenly, her face went rigid, as if some ghostly apparition had caught her cheeks in its hooves. She squirmed but couldn’t dislodge it, and her face drew closer to Fine’s. She sobbed, not sure what was happening, but when she wiped her eyes free of tears she found his rosewood eyes glaring into her own with nothing short of ferocity. “F-Fine?”

“Look into my eyes.”

“I d-don’t—”

“Look!”

Look she did, though she wasn’t sure what she was meant to get out of doing so. His fierce glare held her as steady as his magic. She hiccuped and wiggled, finally realizing that her face was being held level with his with nothing but his horn. It was extremely uncomfortable, but it took several seconds of mewling and whining for her to remember to put her hooves down. They touched the floor, and he blinked.

In the instant it took for his eyes to close and open again, his expression morphed from vicious anger to a gentle, handsome smile. His warm breath, with the faintest scent of pears, tickled her nostrils. In, out. She recognized his slow, rhythmic breathing pattern and started to consciously mimic it. Her heart went from pounding to thrumming to a normal, quiet pitter-patter. After a time, she realized the tension that had run through every muscle of her body had faded.

And then, as quickly as he’d caught her, Fine let her go and stood back. “I can’t believe that worked.”

Shaking off a shiver that abruptly ran through her body, Pinkie marveled at how calm she now felt. “W-what was that? Did you cast some sort of calming spell?”

He shrugged, his smile turning sheepish. “No, no spells. I sorta made it up as I went. I, uh, didn’t know what else to do.” Lowering his head, he asked, “Feel better?”

She nodded, working to recall everything that had just happened between them. “I didn’t know you could do that.” Her ears perked. She gasped and pronked in tandem. “Did Fluttershy teach you how to Stare?”

Chuckling at her bubbling excitement, he replied, “I don’t think it can be taught. I just… You were panicking. I had to do something. I was getting scared.”

Those last words sobered her instantly. Now that she really paid attention, she saw how he meekly shuffled his hooves and kept looking her over from hoof to mane as if in search of some injury. “Oh…” Flicking her tail, she blushed and looked at her hooves. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She started to look away, but her eyes briefly landed on the oven. The hideous blackness returned to her insides and she promptly turned away, reeling from the sickening feeling. They were still in the kitchen. Though it was stripped nearly bare, it was familiar enough for her to have no doubts. She clenched her eyes closed and focused on her breathing once more.

“Pinkie?”

Her stomach settled, but only some. The longer she sat there, the harder it became to resist the nasty infection from spreading. She was starting to taste… “Fine,” she hissed through her teeth between hard breaths. “Get. Me. To the. Living room. Now.”

“Alright.” He pulled her by the withers and guided her. She didn’t dare open her eyes to know where they were going. A few seconds passed with naught but the sound of their hooves on the wood. Each step shocked her insides and brought her one step closer to hyperventilation. She started to gag on the iron flavor dancing on her tongue. “We’re here.”

Her eyes shot open. They stood near the front door, her gaze going out to the bright, cloudy outdoors. Her hind legs twitched in a desire to kick off and send her out there to freedom, but she stilled them through sheer willpower. It was enough to keep her from bolting, but it was like draining all her energy in a single tiny motion. She collapsed to the floor, gradually relaxing as the sick feeling faded. “Th-thank you.”

“Of course.” He sat beside her, tilting his head about as he inspected her with visible worry. “I would have teleported us, but you looked like you already had enough trouble with your stomach.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Her breathing even once more, she elected not to bother getting up. “I don’t ever want to see that room again.”

“I gathered.” He began running a hoof through her mane in that way she liked. She wished she could enjoy it, but terrible visions were swimming through her mind’s eye that prevented anything resembling pleasure. They remained that way for a while, Fine quietly petting her mane and her letting the foul thoughts run amok. Fighting them seemed pointless in this place.

But they weren’t helping matters, so she finally spoke. “I killed Dad first. A few weeks after I killed Maud. Mom was cooking dinner and had one of the knives out. I took it when she wasn’t looking, snuck up on Dad, and slit his throat from behind while he was reading.” Her ear flicked as she waited for Fine to ask a question. Apparently content to keep stroking her mane, he said nothing. She wasn’t sure whether to be glad for that or not. “At least he died quick. Relatively. Mom wasn’t so lucky.”

She moved closer to Fine, wrapping her tail around her flank as she did. “It was so easy. I was so small, and Mom so big, and she was too focused on cooking to see me coming. She had the oven open, getting a… pie? I think. I ran under her and stuck the knife in her from below. Then, while she was still reacting to the hit, I tripped her up. Didn’t even do it on purpose, I was just running too fast. I was so… excited.” The idea sent a fresh chill down her back. “She fell forward. Into the oven. Spilled the boiling hot pie all over herself. That and the burns from the oven itself…”

Closing her eyes, Pinkie recalled the gasps. No shrieking. No screaming. She watched, trembling and cold as ice, while her mother scrambled out of the oven and smashed backwards into the kitchen cabinets. “She never screamed. I th-think my first stab got one of her lungs or something. She was too busy being in shock from the pain to even see me coming. I pulled out the knife and just… started stabbing.”

Pinkie opened her eyes the moment her mother’s burned, ruined face tried to appear in her vision. Her stomach kept twisting, but otherwise she just felt… numb. “I don’t think she ever knew it was me. She got the sauce in her eyes. Couldn’t see. M-maybe she heard me. I hope not.” She leaned her head on Fine’s shoulder, voice dull. “Dad knew. The look in his eyes as he died… I really hope Mom never knew.” She glanced up at him. He was staring straight ahead, face hard but expressionless. “Limestone walked in on me before I finished Mom off.”

Fine remained silent, his eyes set on something a million miles away. Pinkie watch and waited, wondering if he might say something. She knew he wouldn’t condemn her. She probably should have been nervous or frightened, but instead she just felt exhausted. At last, she asked, “What are you thinking?”

It was several seconds before he answered. “Before my first kill, when I started having the visions, I still lived with my father. I was a teenager by then, and honestly thought I was going insane. I’d spend my nights sneaking around Las Pegasus, flitting among the shadows. I avoided my father. Didn’t think he could help me, and didn’t want him to know I kept daydreaming about murder. Then, one night, I had a really strong vision. I remember it vividly. I smothered my father in his sleep with a pillow, only removing it when he was too weak to do anything. And then… When I came to, I was standing over his bed. If the Vision had gone on for just a little longer, I might have…” He closed his eyes tight. “The thought of what I almost did rocked me to my very core. I ran away that night.”

He finally looked at her, and his eyes shined with barely contained tears. “I’m so sorry you didn’t get the same chance.”

Pinkie wanted to smile for him, if only to be reassuring. Her lips didn’t cooperate. She lowered her chin to her legs and sighed. “I… I came back home. After killing Limestone. The only pony left was Granny. I thought she was asleep. She’d taken to…” She shook her head. Context, Pinkamena. Might as well do it right. “Before, me and my sisters all shared one bed. Small house, y’know. After Surprise and Maud died, it was just me and Limestone. Limestone didn’t want to admit that she was having nightmares, but I heard her at night. So Granny Pie started sharing the bed with us. For comfort. The first thing I did when I got home was run to the bedroom. I just wanted to bury myself in the covers by Granny and cry myself to sleep. But Granny wasn’t there.”

Fine resumed stroking her mane. “So she knew.”

Nodding against his coat, she continued, “I woke up and she was in the bed with me. I… I think she knew what was happening. Like, about the Bloodmane and all that. She told me it wasn’t my fault, that I could still be a good filly.”

Fine shifted. His stroking paused for only a moment. “Could still be?”

Pinkie wished she could feel anything other than empty right about now. Even fear would be better than this cold numbness. “I don’t really know what she was thinking. She wouldn’t forgive me, but she didn’t get mad either. I just know that I hurt her so much, just by being me.” Staring out the door was easier than closing her eyes and seeing Granny Pie’s exhausted, haunted face. “She told me to stay in bed and she’d fix everything. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. Granny said she’d fix it, and I just wanted somepony to make it right again.”

“So you stayed in bed,” Fine muttered, nuzzling her behind the ear. It was a pleasant sensation. At any other time, she might have indulged in it.

But not today. “I heard her doing things. Hammering. Sawing. All sorts of things. Every once in a while she’d come into the bedroom to check on me. She fed me cookies once. She… She smiled, but it was a fake smile, the kind of smiles ponies give when they’re desperate. Even as a foal, I knew that smile. Night came and she kept working. That evening she came to the room, all dirty and sweaty. Gave me dinner, read me a bedtime story. Let me cry myself to sleep next to her.

“Then… morning. Granny was gone.”

Pinkie let her head drop once more, watching through the door as birds flew in the distance. She recalled a time when she couldn’t see such things. “She’d sealed up the house. Every window. Every exit. Boarded up and locked, made filly-proof. I couldn’t get out, and Granny was nowhere to be found.”

Fine let out a low hiss. His entire body tensed. “She… abandoned you?”

“I thought so, at first.” Pinkie nuzzled his leg. She lacked the energy needed to raise her head any more than that. “She was right outside. Sitting on the porch in her rocking chair. I begged her to let me out, but she said she couldn’t. Said she’d let me out when I got the bad stuff out. Told me to be strong.

“And that’s where I stayed,” she whispered, staring at her hooves so that she couldn’t see her old prison anymore. “Twelve weeks. Granny left enough canned food for me to survive, and she stayed outside the front door the whole time, talking to me and encouraging me. Sometimes she’d leave, but never for long. I think she was making sure nopony came close to the house and found out what was really happening. She… she left Mom and Dad in the house with me.”

Fine jolted. “She what?”

Pinkie nodded. The sickness formed again, like a lead weight in her guts. “I begged her to let me out. I screamed and cried and banged on the door. She wouldn’t do it. She said they would make it easier. And… and she was right.” The lead was worms again. Pinkie curled up, wrapped her forelegs around her barrel and shuddering. “When the visions came again, I… I used their bodies. I… I m-made…”

Holding her tight, Fine whispered in her ear. “It’s enough. Pinkie, please, you don’t have to—”

“I ate them,” she hissed. “I ate my p-parents. Not because I needed to, but because the v-visions…” Tears. She hadn’t thought she’d had any left. She pressed her forehead to the floorboards, sniveling and choking and trying to make her intestines stop wriggling. “I was in so much pain. I just wanted out, to get away, to not be a monster anymore. Granny wouldn’t let me out, no matter how much I screamed. She kept apologizing and t-telling me stories and saying she’d fix it and I started to hate her so much!” She gagged even as her throat constricted.

Her breathing became ragged. All the numbness and cold from before was gone, replaced by the searing memories of agony and the stench of rotting flesh. Her throat burned. Soon her lungs joined the chorus of pain, and Pinkie realized she couldn’t breathe.

“Pinkie? Pinkie!”

Fine’s voice was nearly overpowered by the ringing in her ears. Ringing, and a familiar old voice.

It’s okay, Pinkamena.

The pain is good.

Pain means you’re getting better.

Bad fillies can’t come out.

You’ll come out if you learn to be a good filly again.

“Pinkie, breathe!”

You want to be a good filly, don’t you?

Clouds filled her vision. The world shifted.

You’re a bad filly, but you can be good again.

You just have to hurt a whole lot.

Granny Pie knows, Pinkamena.

Bright light. “Come on, Pinkie. Look at me. Breathe!”

Granny Pie knows.

Air burst into Pinkie’s lungs, and with it her living nightmare exploded. The voice echoed in her ears again and again, gradually fading as she lay panting on her back, staring at a cloudy blue sky through a forest canopy.

Fine’s wide-eyed face popped into her view. “Oh, thank Celestia, Luna, and Cadance. Are you okay?”

Unable to answer for the pain in her lungs, Pinkie merely stared at the sky. Fine busied himself checking her over, but she hardly noticed. Her eyes stung from the tears. The sheer relief of being out of that house was impossible to describe, but it did little to bring her cheer. Only one thing was running through her head, and when she finally felt like her lungs wouldn’t collapse from the effort, she asked, “Why do we exist?”

Fine, seeming satisfied that she wasn’t going to die on him, sat by her head and looked down on her. “I… I’m not sure what you mean.”

Her eyes met his. He appeared so small. “Why do we become Bloodmanes? What made me into… into that?”

Fine stared at her. She stared right back, her eyes dull and joyless. He had witnessed many expressions in the past two weeks, but this was the one that least belonged on her face. She lay limp on the ground, her straightened mane splayed out among the dirt and rocks. Even her coat had lost its luster. He hated this look. Hated it more than he could describe. Not knowing what to do about it only made him feel worse.

Her question was an obvious one. So obvious he had to wonder why she hadn’t asked before. At one time in his life it had consumed his every waking moment. Perhaps it had for her as well. He settled down beside her, turning his gaze along the path towards the farmhouse. His teleport had been fast and sloppy, but it had done the job.

“There is no established reason for Bloodmanes, Pinkie. They’re so rare that the two of us meeting at all is something of a minor miracle, so studying them is not easy. But… there are theories. The standing one is that it’s a combination of genetics and circumstance.” And, with the story she’d just shared, it was entirely possible Pinkie had inherited hers from her Granny Pie. It made him wonder who in his family tree had had it before him. “Genetics is obvious, I suppose. Then something to do with a great trauma.”

“T-trauma?” Pinkie’s voice held an edge of alarm.

“Yes, trauma. Assuming the theory is accurate, I’ve always been of the belief that witnessing my mother’s death in the ocean was the cause for my Bloodmane. It didn’t manifest itself into the visions until many years later, so I can’t say for sure, but it seems the most likely candidate.” He looked over to see her staring at the sky, her face slightly pale and her eyes wide. “Did something happen to you? Before the murders started?”

Gradually, as if even that effort required a will of iron, she shifted her eyes to meet his. Her Adam’s apple bobbed as she swallowed. She licked her lips. “I d-don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

He blinked, taken aback by her words. “But I thought…” He looked in the direction of the farmhouse, invisible beyond the trees. “What more is there to do? We’ve covered everypony in your family.”

Her eyes flicked in the same direction, then went back to the sky. “Y-yeah… every…” She curled slightly, as if finishing the phrase physically hurt her.

The implications were clear. Fine thought back to what she’d told him so far. Surprise the pegasus, Maud and Limestone, the parents. Understanding struck. “What happened to Granny Pie?”

Pinkie shot him this funny look, like she didn’t understand what he was saying. Then her confusion cleared and she sighed. Rolling onto her stomach, she sat up properly and stared at her hooves. “She kept me trapped in that house for twelve weeks. Once she was sure I was… ‘normal’, she waited until I was asleep to clear the wood off the front door. Th-then she…” She shivered. “She killed herself. I f-found her the next morning in front of the house.”

“I… see.” Perhaps she felt like she was responsible for Pinkie’s problems. He should have known better than to think she had something to do with any presumed trauma beforehoof. “So what did you do then?”

Shaking her head, Pinkie stood and began to walk back towards Rockstead. “I didn’t understand that Granny had cured me. I was only seven, and I was afraid I’d kill anypony who came near me. S-so I just ran away. Didn’t pay any attention to where I was going, I just… went. I never came back, not until now.”

There was something more. There had to be. But gauging by Pinkie’s mood, pressing her for answers now would have been bad for her. So he caught up and the two made their way back to civilization, even as he tried to think of what was missing.

But Pinkie wasn’t finished speaking. “I was totally unprepared, y’know? Didn’t bring any food with me. Had no plan. I survived on grass, but I didn’t know what was good for me and what might be junk. Sometimes I’d go to a nearby town in search of ‘real’ food, but…” She bit her lip and turned her head away. “I wandered for two years. It was… I was miserable. Always hungry, always scared.”

Just like Sunflower. Fine could still recall finding the filly sleeping under a fallen sign in a park. To think of Pinkie in that same situation… hurt. “What made you decide to stay with the Cakes?”

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. He could practically see the gears turning in her head. “I guess I just got tired of it all. I hadn’t hurt anypony in two years, and the nightmares weren’t as bad as they used to be. I didn’t know if I was better, but I didn’t want to live that life anymore. So I stopped at the first town I came across. I didn’t really know what I was going to do, but I knew that adult ponies used bits to buy things, so I needed to find a way to get them.”

Fine recalled a conversation with Mrs. Cake a few months ago. Just a few months. It seemed like an eternity. “Mrs. Cake told me you came to them when the shop had only been open for a month.”

The glance she gave him was full of questions, but she pressed on before he could offer any answers. “Yeah. I was drawn to the smell. What foal isn’t? I begged them on my knees to give me a chance.” Her chuckle was feeble. “Guess it was low of me. What adult pony can say no to a dirty waif of a filly like that? I didn’t understand money or that they couldn’t afford me, but they took me in anyway.”

Fine nodded, smiling for her when she cast another glance his way. “I’m glad they did. But what did a nine-year-old do for work in a place like that?”

Pinkie shrugged. “Cleaning, little chores here and there. At first. I think Mr. and Mrs. Cake intended to send me to an orphanage at first. But on the third day I started helping the customers all on my own. It was a holiday, Hearts n’ Hooves, I think, and the place was packed. The Cakes couldn’t keep up, so I stepped in without them even asking. I couldn’t work the register, but I could be a waitress, and it was real easy. Sugarcube Corner made enough bits that day to pay all their bills for the next month, or so Mr. Cake told me once.”

“And that was when they decided to keep you around?” Fine asked knowingly.

She paused, rubbing her chin as she thought. “I don’t think so. I don’t think they ever really ‘decided’. But…” Her smile turned warm. “I remember how I knew I’d found a home. It was right after me and Applejack competed in a baking contest. She won first place, but I got second. It’s how we became friends. And that night… w-well…” Her cheeks gained a few extra shades of pink. Fine could only stare and let his knees get wobbly as she timidly rubbed her foreleg. “That was the first time Mrs. Cake… tucked me in. The next day they started homeschooling me. I never worried about having a home again after that night.”

Fine wanted to say something. Not being able to was frustrating. He wasn’t sure he understood. Well, he understood being homeless. But that sense of belonging? He had similar events in his life, but couldn’t believe they were the same.

“Fine? You okay?”

Oh, she was watching him. Her little frown stung. “Yeah. I’m fine. I m-mean, I’m okay.” He offered her a smile, knowing it wouldn’t fool her. “I’m glad you found a family.”

She studied him with concern, and every second of it made it harder for him not to start fidgeting. At last, she smiled, though it was a sad one. “Yeah. Me too.”

And with that, they started back on the road to Rockstead in silence.

The rest of the day went comparatively well. They visited with Sunflower for a while (again) and acted as a test audience for her latest planned act, then had dinner at Scilla’s. Cotton attended, but PJ had to miss out due to a large order. Pinkie had a blast with Scilla’s kids Queue and Cue while Fine and Cotton talked writing. Scilla and her husband Backstage whipped up a cabbage and carrot soup that Fine and Pinkie agreed was delicious. The night ended with Fine telling everyone a story about a young colt and his pet bird’s adventures after being abandoned on an island. Cotton and Pinkie recognized the story as one of his recently published works, The Adventures of Kit and Caboose. Only Pinkie knew it was semi-autobiographical. The foals loved it, regardless. It might have had something to do with how he left out all the more ‘adult’ parts.

They got back to the Rock Bottom Inn an hour after sundown. The place was alive with activity, and Pinkie couldn’t ‘not’ say hello to everypony in the place. Fine ordered some hot chocolate and watched as she exchanged pleasantries and entertained for a bit. She was all smiles and bouncing around the room like always, but Fine could see that she wasn’t into it. It was in her eyes. She kept glancing his way, and every time she did there was a peculiar something he couldn’t place in them.

Barely fifteen minutes into the night, Pinkie sidled up to Fine at the bar and whispered into his ear. “Meet me in your room in fifteen minutes.” She said it so quickly he might have missed it were he not used to it. He’d had no time to acknowledge her words before she disappeared upstairs.

She was gone all of ten seconds before Petri was waggling his eyebrows opposite him at the bar. “Well, well. Somepony’s getting lucky tonight.”

Fine slowly turned to stare at him, letting the words roll through his mind. “Seriously? That’s the first thing you jump to?”

Petri didn’t lose his smarmy, cocked grin. “Don’t give me that. She’s always in here at least an hour riling up the guests. Her eye’s been on you all night.”

With a sigh, Fine looked into his half-empty mug. “I don’t think we’re that far along yet.”

“You willing to put a wager on that?”

Something unpleasant burned through Fine’s body. Head still bowed, he sent the inn’s owner a narrow-eyed scowl and spoke with a voice like ice. “I don’t gamble. Gamblers lose.” It was only after Petri shrank back that he realized just what he’d done. Shaking off the fire within, he sat up straight. “I’m sorry. That… I don’t…” Groaning, he downed another quarter of his hot chocolate, then slammed it on the table. “I’m not good with this subject.”

Sarcasm dripped from Petri’s voice. “I gathered.” He ran off to take care of another customer, but wasn’t gone long. He silently offered to top off Fine’s drink, but he declined. “Any idea why it bothers you?”

What was he supposed to say to that? He couldn’t very well explain that the few times he’d been with a mare had only been as part of a cover during Archon missions. Or that he had no idea what to do in that kind of situation. Or that he didn’t want Pinkie to think him a pervert. Or that he wasn’t sure she was interested in sex. Or… There were a lot of ‘or’s. “I don’t know.”

Petri nodded as if preparing to impart some sage wisdom. “You’d best figure it out soon. I doubt Pinkie’s going to accept an ‘I don’t know’ when you get up there.” He’d make for a very poor sage.

“That’s not what’s happening.” Fine emptied the last of his mug to hide his doubt. “Good chocolate. G’night.” He set the mug aside and started for the stairs.

“It’s okay to be nervous, y’know.”

He paused, but stopped himself from looking back. Was he nervous? After a moment’s hesitation, he headed up without a word. His thoughts, however, were an entirely different matter. He suddenly felt out of breath. Damn it, Petri, now you’ve got me thinking about it. There was nothing to be done now but continue onwards. Pinkie surely wasn’t planning something like that. They’d barely started being ‘together’ in the traditional sense. He wasn’t even sure if he…

No, don’t be stubborn, Fine. He paused in the hallway and shook his head firmly. You like her. You clearly do. And she likes you.

But that doesn’t mean she’s ready to take that step.

And if she is?

That doesn’t mean I’m ready to take that step.

Am I?

But Pinkie is… Pinkie is what?

He stared at the dark, heart using his ribs as a drum set and tail flicking in agitation.

There’s no time to think on this. Pinkie is waiting.

You make it sound like something bad’s going to happen if we’re late.

Idiot! What if Pinkie’s… waiting for you?

She isn’t. Not like that.

How can you be sure?

I can because she’s not.

You’re denying the possibility because it scares you shitless.

He swallowed. Had the room gotten hot?

What the hay do I do?

No answer came. He suddenly wished he hadn’t had that mug of hot chocolate. Now his throat was dry, and no amount of gulping would fix it. The door to his room loomed just a few feet ahead. The world was silent. Maybe I could use the eavesdropping spell to—No! He cracked a hoof across his jaw. Hard. The pain helped to clear his mind. A little. Have to do this proper. No being an Archon tonight. Pinkie trusts me enough to be straight with me, and I will extend her the same courtesy.

This was enough to get him moving again. He tried to imagine it was with confidence, but he couldn’t ignore how his heart kept trying to climb into his throat. He raised his hoof for the handle. It isn’t that. And even if it is, I’ll— He stared at his shaking hoof.

What the hay do I do?

There was nothing left for it. He sent a prayer to Luna and opened the door.

The first thing he noticed was Pinkie’s gasp, a quiet sound of alarm. Instinct hurried him forward to see what had startled her. She stood by the bed, her suitcase opened and one leg folded to her chest. Their eyes met, and he saw… fear. Was something wrong? Was she hurt? He started to—

The dress was the pale blue of the noontime sky. White lace and frills decorated a shoulderless top with small decorative sleeves. Pink bows and a ribbon matching Pinkie’s straightened mane accented the dress. The skirt, accented by a pink, pleated underlining, fanned out from Pinkie’s hips like a blooming flower. Last but certainly not least was a thin pink collar with a bow and tiny bell. The ensemble fit snugly about the young mare’s small build, giving her a fragile appearance. Her meek posture only further promoted that image, and it all came together to stir something within Fine that he’d only felt a couple times in his entire life, both when around this particular mare.

She was lovely. She was radiant.

And yet…

Tears welled in Pinkie’s eyes. “I t-told Rarity it was stupid. I told her. Oh, why did I even bother?”

Fine blinked, his idling mind crashing back to reality as he took in her distraught face. “Pinkie, that dress is—”

“Don’t.” She turned away, covering her face behind her leg. Her stuttered breathing ripped at his heart. “Don’t lie to me. I know I’m not pretty. I’m sorry I p-put you in this situation at all.”

“Not—?” He took a step closer. “Pinkie, you’re the definition of loveliness. I can’t even—”

“I said don’t!” She thrust her hoof at him without turning to look. “I’m not pretty and you don’t need to try and make me feel better about it!”

Fine stared, listening as she fought against tears. His mind flew through a thousand plotlines before he repressed the urge to groan. “This is the part of the romance where the couple get into a series of misunderstandings and fail to talk out one another’s feelings, letting the whole scenario blow up into some overemotional climax that makes them think the relationship’s over when they’re really just being idiots.”

Pinkie’s ears perked and the sniffles stopped. With head low, she glanced around her legs at him. “What?”

He stomped and held his head high. “You are not an idiot, Pinkie Pie, and I will fight anypony who dares to say otherwise. And since you’re not stupid, I trust you to know that when I swear to the combined Princesses and perform a Pinkie Promise to the effect that you’re the prettiest mare that ever crossed my path, I mean it. So: cross my—”

“No!” She was in his face in an instant, her leg blocking his hoof from making the motions. “Y-you can’t promise something that isn’t true. That’s like breaking a Pinkie Promise before you even promise it!”

He narrowed his eyes. “And you’re going to stop me?”

Her eyes watered anew as she shoved his hoof down a second time. “Yes! Nopony breaks a Pinkie Promise, Fine. Nopony!”

“Do you really think I’d break a Pinkie Promise?” He stepped back. “Cross my—”

“You can’t!” She grabbed his hoof in both of hers with a grip only an earth pony could possess.

He merely switched to his other hoof. “—heart and hope—”

“Fine, no!” She blocked the motions, easily swatting both hooves down.

She couldn’t stop his recitation, however. “—to fly, stick a cupcake—”

Eyes wide, pupils small, tears streaking her cheeks, Pinkie did the one thing he couldn’t hope to escape: she leapt forward and kissed him on the lips. The act jolted through his brain and ended any thought of finishing the promise. As her legs wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace, his mind slid into a jumble of nonsense until finally settling on one bizarre conclusion: She even tastes like strawberries. Then he wrapped his arms around her and kissed back.

It wasn’t a wild act, but it retained all the passion a first kiss warranted. For a seeming eternity, he melted in the feel of her lips playing over his own, the cool cotton of her dress against his skin, and the soft silk of her mane over his hooves. The one time he finally managed to get a thought in, it was a mystified realization that romance stories just couldn’t capture what this was like. A million firecrackers going off in his skull? The sun going nova in his heart? The universes colliding in a chaotic symphony of apocalyptic bliss? Paltry words compared to the sensation of this merging of mortal shells.

Now Fine faced Elysium, and he knew he’d spend the rest of his life struggling to describe it in words.

And then it was over. The haze remained even as the world grew cold, and he slowly came to realize that that precious other half that he’d never known he needed was missing all over again. As his high began to crash, a ghost of a whisper shattered the last of his euphoria.

“Don’t lie to me.”

By the time Fine realized what was happening, Pinkie was gone, the door closing quietly behind her. Slowly, he turned to stare at it. The fog of his mind began to lift, and it finally dawned upon him that his ploy had somehow failed.

Perhaps he should have felt sad. Or guilty. Or even angry. That’d be easier if he could stop smiling. He reached up to touch his lips. The faint flavor of strawberry lingered, a tantalizing ghost. He wanted more. He needed more. But Pinkie…

Pinkie.

He hurried to the wall adjoining their rooms and cast his eavesdropping spell. Sobs reached his ears, muffled even through his magic. Cutting the spell off, he began to pace. She hadn’t run far, and she’d likely stay in her room for the rest of the night. Would she try to run away, perhaps back to Ponyville? Considering how much stress she was under, it was plausible. He couldn’t let her go, not until he helped her to understand. Understand…

His pacing ceased. He didn’t have to close his eyes to see her in that dress. Rarity – for whom else could have made it? – had done an astounding job. And Pinkie thought she wasn’t pretty. Which was patently absurd. He couldn’t permit her to have such a low opinion of herself, but she wouldn’t believe him if he just said so. Tonight proved that. And there was so much more. He hadn’t seen it earlier, hadn’t understood, but the more he considered Pinkie the more he realized…

Her independence.

Her dependence.

Her energy.

Her lethargy.

Her infectious laughter.

Her pained whimper.

Her lyrical skill.

Her physical grace.

Her confidence.

Her temerity.

Her spontaneity.

Her predictability.

Her everything.

He wanted her everything. Why did it take a kiss to make him see that? And how could he possibly explain it to her? But he needed to. Electricity ran through his every hair with a fierce eagerness to share this discovery. She wouldn’t listen now, but soon. It had to be soon! How? How how how? His prose wasn’t good enough. He needed more. He needed something she would hear. Something that Pinkie couldn’t ignore or deny or dodge! He needed…

His eyes landed on the small end table where he’d stored his scrolls and papers. His breath caught in his throat. It was stupid. It was ridiculous. It was desperate.

It was perfect.

Grinning like a mad pony, he pulled out his ink and quill and set to work. His heart wanted to sing. It only needed the lyrics.

Author's Note

For all those wondering, Pinkie’s dress was inspired by this.

Day 11

The door seemed more like the gates of a fortress to Fine’s mind. He clutched the scroll to his chest, well aware of the trembling in his entire body. He’d been standing in that same spot for nearly an hour, earning more than a few curious glances from the inn’s other guests as they left their respective rooms. The morning sun’s rays invaded the hallway, keeping time for his lonely vigil.

She was in there. He knew she was because he cast his eavesdropping spell to make sure. And she was awake, of that he remained confident. All he had to do was knock, but a vague terror kept his free hoof planted to the floor. Was this how it had felt when he’d first tried to confess to Fluttershy? No. It had been embarrassing, perhaps a little frightening, but that time hadn’t gripped him in this electrifying fear. He wanted to scream, but didn’t dare lest Pinkie hear him. The greatest and worst thing in the world would be to have the attention of her glittering blue eyes.

“You can do this, Verity,” he said under his breath. “It’s Pinkie Pie. She’s only scary if you break a Pinkie Promise. Or get possessed by a dragon spirit.” The thought brought a shivering smile to his lips, but it faded when he saw how the scroll shook in his hooves. Did he really want to do this? It would be so much easier to walk out. Out of the Rock Bottom Inn. Out of Rockstead. Out of her life, never to have to risk this incredible gambit. Fine never gambled. Gamblers lost.

But sometimes the reward is worth the risk. It was unnerving how closely that voice in his mind resembled Octavia’s. His gaze shifted to the stairs, open and inviting. An escape from failure. Freedom from this fear. It would only cost him his soul. He could part with that, surely.

Closing his eyes, he tried to clear his mind. It was impossible. Pale blue eyes gazed into him, pleading, desperate, wanting to know why. This ghostly image alone was too painful to accept. If he couldn’t handle that, however would he deal with the real thing? And he would have to in time. There wasn’t a creature alive that could hide from Pinkie. She’d find him.

Somehow, that made him feel better. She would find him, because she cared that much. He had to do this. He reached out with his hoof for the hundredth time. The fact that it actually connected with the wood made him flinch, for that had never happened before. His ears folded back and his shoulders hunched in preparation.

His knock went unanswered.

That wasn’t a relief. He pondered this, wondered if he shouldn’t try again. Instead, he licked his lips and opened his mouth. “P-Pinkie?” The name came out hoarse, so quiet even his own ears had to strain to catch it. He coughed into his hoof and swallowed to moisten his throat. “Pinkie?” Better. Marginally.

Still, nothing. Fine perked an ear and turned his head. Not a sound from the room. Once again, he strongly considered walking away. After what happened last night, perhaps she didn’t want to see him. He might as well lodge a lance of ice through his chest as imagine such a thing. The pain sent a shiver from his hooves to his ears, but when it passed he felt a sudden surge of determination. He glanced at the scroll, still trembling, and sucked down a long, deep breath.

“I’m coming in. Alright?”

Still no answer. She might not have even heard him. Even so, he reached for the handle. He was mildly surprised that the door was unlocked. He stepped through to find the shades drawn and the room enshrouded in darkness. But only a natural darkness, which his eyes pierced with practiced ease. Closing the door behind him, he quickly located the lump beneath the covers. Pinkie’s body was still, but not so still that he couldn’t detect the soft rise and fall of her shoulders and side. She was pretending to be asleep.

He sat down beside her bed, staring at her hiding spot. The top of her mane, dark and straight, was just visible from that angle. She was facing away, he could tell. “I have something for you,” he whispered. It didn’t feel right being any louder right now.

She didn’t move, or acknowledge him in any way.

“I, uh, told you before. I’m not good at this.” He fumbled with the scroll, not willing to use his magic for the task. He’d written this by hoof. He’d handle it by hoof. Maybe he was being silly, but it felt… necessary. “You’re way better than I’ll ever be. B-but… well…” The scroll unrolled. He looked to her once more. She hadn’t shifted at all.

He reviewed the words yet again. Should he have worked on it some more? He was tired from an entire night of that, surely he couldn’t find anything in his current state. He should feel absolutely worn out, but instead there was a buzzing energy that kept the weariness as a peripheral, vague concept. He was going to do this. He realized now how badly he wanted to. Now that he was here, by her side, the opportunity present, his heart began to race. It was as if the words themselves were reaching down, deep down, and grasping something within him. Not his heart, something physical and finite. Deeper. The words clutched their prize and pulled, and so he opened his mouth and began.

I didn't know what day it was
When you walked into the room
I said hello unnoticed
You said goodbye too soon

Fine’s eyes widened as a clear, distinct melody flowed from his lips. In his peripheral vision, he saw Pinkie stir, but the words didn’t stop. The words couldn’t stop.

Breezing through the clientele
Spinning yarns that were so lyrical
I really must confess right here
The attraction was purely physical

She raised her head, turned to gape over her shoulder. Her wide eyes met his. The words. The words had to come out.

I took all those habits of yours
That in the beginning were hard to accept
Your fashion sense, Trixie prints
I put down to experience

He smiled. He couldn’t help it. He was singing. In not the most beautiful voice ever, but it was his, and it was real.

The pink-maned lady with the kindly eyes
She might have held my point of view
Her sweet little lines were well received
But my heart cried out for you

His voice gained strength with the arrival of the chorus. Pinkie was sitting up now, rubbing her eyes and starting to smile.

You're in my heart, you're in my soul
You'll be my breath should I grow old
You are my lover, you're my best friend
You're in my soul

He didn’t need the scroll, not when he had her eyes. Her lovely, wonderful eyes.

My love for you is immeasurable
My respect for you immense
You're ageless, timeless, lace and fineness
You're beauty and elegance

You're a rhapsody, a comedy
You're a symphony and a play
You're every love song ever written
But honey what do you see in me

You're in my heart, you're in my soul
You'll be my breath should I grow old
You are my lover, you're my best friend
You're in my soul

Pinkie’s face was five shades brighter than normal. Tears swelled in her eyes. Fine thought his smile would split his face in two.

You're an essay in glamor
Please pardon the grammar
But you're every schoolcolt's dream
You're cryptic, lopsided, but baby I've decided
You're the best dream I've ever seen

And there have been many old fears
Many times I've thought to leave
But I bite my lip and turn around
'Cause you're the warmest thing I've ever found

You're in my heart, you're in my soul
You'll be my breath should I grow old
You are my lover, you're my best friend
You're in my soul

The song came to an end as slow and quiet as its beginning. The scroll fell to the floor. Fine was too busy gazing into Pinkie’s bottomless eyes to care about a piece of paper. The words? They were burned into his soul. Breathless, panting, lighter than a cloud, he could do nothing but smile and await her judgement. His eyes started to burn from the sheer rapture of his first song combined with the warm, gentle curve of her lips.

Pinkie approached atop the bed, crawling forward with a fluid but eager grace. She said not a word, merely wrapped her forelegs around his withers and planted her lips to his. In the euphoric explosion of his mind, all reality disappeared. Existence was defined by velvety touches, strawberry tastes, and a stanza that sung over and over again in a mighty echo that no Royal Canterlot Voice could ever hope to match.

You're in my heart, you're in my soul
You'll be my breath should I grow old
You are my lover, you're my best friend
You're in my soul

When the universe finally put itself back together again, Fine discovered she’d dragged him into the bed. This didn’t concern him like it would have less than a day ago. They clung to one another as if their lives depended upon the contact. He wasn’t so sure that was false.

Pinkie’s smile beneath those wild, poofy locks battled against her shimmering eyes for his attention. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she whispered, “You sang for me.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, brushing a hoof through her mane. “I guess I finally had something worth singing about.”

A quiet mewling sound rose from her throat. She pecked him on the lips. “It was a beautiful song.”

He could have denied it. He didn’t have her voice, or the voice of any other pony he could mention. But why fight this victory when there were so many more important things to focus on? “Pinkie Pie? I think I love you.”

If her eyes were dazzling before, now they were like fireworks. “M-me too.”

His ears perked. The words were on his lips. He fought valiantly, but a golden opportunity awaited an entire lifetime would not be denied: “You love you too?”

She blinked, uncomprehending.

Oh, Luna, stop me. It was no use, it had started, and his lips were quirking into a sideways grin. “Are you dating a clone? Should I be jealous? What’s it like, being in love with yourself?”

Pinkie snorted, then burst out laughing. “You know what I mean, you goof!”

Her giggles were infectious. He squeezed her and pressed his forehead to hers, delighting in her good humor. “I couldn’t help it, I’ve wanted to poke fun at that line for decades. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, be mine.” She pulled him in for another world-shattering kiss.

You're in my heart, you're in my soul…

A lifetime later, they came up for air. Pinkie’s breaths were coming in long, slow gasps. Fine realized he wasn’t doing any better. Who would have thought kissing could leave a pony so winded? He could almost hear Twilight Sparkle in the back of his mind proposing a hooves-on experiment on the matter.

Pinkie’s quiet voice broke through the haze. “Fine? D-do you really think I’m… pretty?”

He gazed into her eyes. They were filled with doubt… but also a hint of hope. How fortunate that the truth was easy. “Of course, you’re pretty. In fact, I think I’d like a do-over of that dress introduction.” He pecked the tip of her muzzle. She responded with a squeak and wriggled her nose. Her scrunched up face sent his heart frolicking around in his chest, and he resolved to do that again as often as he could get away with it. “Would you like me to sing that stanza again?”

“I think I’d like to hear the whole song again,” she replied with a goofy, disbelieving smile. He obliged her, thrilled to find that it flowed out of his lungs with all the same eloquence and skill as it had the first time. It was made all the easier by her dreamy smile. “When did you write that?” she asked once it was over.

“Last night.” She lifted her head, as if doing so might make her incredulous stare more effective. “What? I was inspired.” She leaned closer, and this time there was an inquisitive, studious look to her. What she was looking for wasn’t clear, but he abruptly felt like she was reading his face like an open book. “What?”

Even her concerned frown didn’t mar her lovely face. “Did you stay up all night?”

He considered his potential answer, rubbing her cheek with his fetlock as he did. The worry in her gaze made his decision for him. “I had to get through. I was afraid if I took too long it would be too late. That I’d lose you for good.” The very idea left a little ice cube in his heart. “So yeah, I stayed up all night working on it.”

She considered this quietly, her eyes drifting down. “I don’t know how I feel about that. It’s like all the Pinkies and Rarities and Rainbows and everypony got into a big pileup on the highway between the exits of Worry and Joy and the mediponies are too busy fighting through the warm cotton candy clouds down at Circulation Point to deal with it.”

Fine cocked his head. “Aren’t there any Twilight Sparkles or maybe a Celestia or two to break up the wreckage and calm ponies down?”

“That’s now how it works.” She shook her head, gravely serious. “They only give advice and the like. And I’d have thought you’d have suggested Luna.”

“It’s your mind,” he countered with a shrug. “You’re a Celestia pony.” Then an idea struck him and he grinned. “The mediponies are all Fluttershy, aren’t they?”

“Of course!” She poked him in the shoulder playfully. “Who are they in your head?”

He hummed and tapped his chin, considering his options. “Hard choice. It’d be either Nye or Upper Crust. Probably Nye, come to think of it.”

“Nye?” Pinkie raised an skeptical eyebrow. “Seriously? I’d have thought Octavia. What stallion wouldn’t want to see her in a nurse’s outfit?” When she realized Fine was staring at her, she blushed. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied with another dopey smile. “Just imagining you in a nurse’s outfit now.”

Fine almost swore he felt the heat radiating from her face. “Th-that’s… I m-mean…” In a decent imitation of Fluttershy, Pinkie hid her face behind her curly mane such that only an eye was showing, wide but locked onto him. When she finally managed to speak, her voice was practically a squeak. “Do you really think I could pull that off?”

Chuckling, he tunneled his nose through her mane until his muzzle bumped hers. “I know—” Hair got in his mouth. Strange, it tasted like bubblegum. Being stringy didn’t make it all that palatable, so he promptly pulled back and tugged the strands off his tongue. Flushing at her giggles, he finally said, “Yes, but I wanna see you in the dress first.”

“Was it tasty?” She asked with a smirk, taking the time to pull her mane back and peck him on the lips. Her hoof ran little circles on his chest, her smile becoming soft. “I guess this means we’re a couple now. Right?”

“If not? I’ll write another song,” he declared firmly. “And another. And another and another and another. I’ll stand outside your window and sing them all day and night until I find the right words to make it so.”

The look in her eyes forced him to check and make sure he was still on the bed in case the floating feeling wasn’t just in his mind. She tucked her head under his chin and sighed, a sound of perfect contentment. “You don’t have to do that for me, silly. I was yours from the moment you saved me in the Crystal Caverns.”

Fine recalled that moment with horrible clarity. Chasing one another among the crystals, trading blows, her taunting whispers in the dark. His ears folded back against the terrible shriek she made when his magical spear impaled her hip and pinned her to the floor. He could almost smell the blood. Blood on his hooves. Blood on his claws. Blood as she begged.

“What’s wrong?”

He was clinging to her, close to hyperventilation. He closed his mouth and eyes, breathed through his nose, and forced the images way. They didn’t go easily. He would lie, tell her something else. This wasn’t a topic that needed discussion, not now. Formulating something believable, he opened his eyes once more. His throat caught at her stare, a long, pleading look that spoke of an anxious expectation.

Don’t lie to me.

“I don’t want to hurt you again.” His voice cracked as he said it, but he couldn’t stop it now that it had begun. “I’m afraid. So terribly afraid. I… Me. I’m dangerous. I’ve put you in the hospital twice. Nearly killed you. If that happens again, I don’t think I can live with myself. How do we know it won’t happen again? How can you stand to be in the same room with me after I-I butchered you, tortured you? I don’t deserve you, I always knew that. But you keep coming back, keep risking it. Why, Pinkie? I’m not good. I’m not safe. I’m not anything you need to be around. I can’t stand the thought of losing you, and… and…” The words died to a sob. He buried his head in her shoulder and held her close even as a voice in the back of his mind insisted he get as far away as possible.

Pinkie rubbed his withers with one hoof and patted his head with the other. Both felt good. Certainly better than Fine anticipated. He felt so small and stupid. Pinkie would say so, and she’d be right. How could she have the patience to put up with it? Yet there she remained, stroking him and humming his own song back into his ear. There was nothing he could do but hold on tight and wish he wasn’t so pathetic. When was the last time he broke down like this?

He began to think on what to say. How to apologize. He’d discarded a half-dozen options when Pinkie beat him to it, her words gentle. “I want you to know something.”

Sniffling, he pulled back and rubbed his eyes clear of tears. The little smile she offered threatened to melt his heart all over again, but it also sent a chill of fear down his spine in regards to her lack of survival instincts. Nopony should smile that way at somepony who’d tortured them to within an inch of their life.

Not waiting for him to formulate a response, Pinkie took his hoof in hers and pressed it firmly to her chest. So very slowly, she lowered it. Her eyes never left his, even as her cheeks burned. His fared little better, and he began to question just what she was doing. Then his hoof touched something off, a break in the velvety smoothness of her body. An imperfection, running like a range of mountains on a topographical map. Scars. Pinkie let out a little gasp as he abruptly jerked his hoof away. It wasn’t a gasp of pain. He wasn’t sure what it was.

“W-why?” It was the only thing he could think to ask.

“Don’t stop.” Her voice was like velvet rubbing satin. She caught his hoof once more and pressed it to her belly. Her lips opened to take in heavy inhales as his touch roamed the little bumps and ridges. “Feel them. Feel them all.” Gradually, moving along with her guidance, his hoof traced the marks on her body that her fur so effectively hid. Here, on her side, a trio of cuts from when he’d had claws. There, on her leg, where he’d put a knife through it. Pulling him close and turning slightly, she guided him to the scar in the small of her back where a similar wound could barely be felt. Her breath was hot on his neck, coming out as a husky pant.

Fine wasn’t sure how to feel. His mind told him to be afraid. His body told him something else. His head swam with confusing, contradictory data that left him feeling lightheaded. “Pinkie? I d-don’t…” He tensed as her lips traced a line along his neck, up to his throat, teasing the corners of his lips. Suddenly all his fears and anxieties from two seconds ago didn’t seem to matter much anymore. He wasn’t sure what she was doing, but the desire to get more of it by whatever means possible was consuming his mind more and more with every peppered kiss.

“Feel them,” she breathed in his ear. Her hoof guided his across her body, and every little fault on it. “They’re yours. They’re your mark on me. They hurt once, but now? I love them. Every single one. Because without them we might never have come here.” His hoof ran over the fleshy, shallow scar on her inner thigh. There was no pain in her panting whimper. “Touch them, Verity. Touch them and love them like I do. Touch them and never feel guilty about them ever again.”

He touched them. Freely, without guidance. She moaned and stole his lips, and the world ceased to be.

They could have stayed in bed all day, were it not for their bodies reminding them of such limitations as hunger and thirst. Pinkie was the first to crawl out from under the sheets, her movements languid yet graceful. Like a cat. Fine watched her stretching her legs and shaking out her mane, which was somehow more frazzled than usual. He had to wonder if he looked any better. The eager little colt he’d discovered hiding in some dark, forgotten corner of his mind watched her arch her back and strongly suggested he pull her back into the bed. Luckily (?), his stomach offered firm arguments against such a course of action.

He waited until she was in the shower to emerge from beneath the covers as well. For all the… ‘activity’ of the last few hours, he felt refreshed and energetic, and so decided to blow off some energy by performing a practice routine. The motions were all but ingrained into his skull, though he had to improvise a little given the enclosed space and the bed in his way. Even so, it felt good to simply move, and he went at it with an eagerness he’d not felt in years.

By the time Pinkie emerged from the bathroom, her mane done up in a towel and her coat glistening with faint moisture, Fine had worked up a sweat. Again. How many times did that make for this morning? She watched him finish his routine, her manner calm and her smile sunny. “I kinda like watching you do that,” she admitted with a coy smile.

Flicking his sweaty mane from his face, he grinned. “You’re welcome to come by and watch any time, Little Miss.”

She tittered and blushed but didn’t lose her smug manner. “Maybe I will, Peepee. But right now, I need you to get in that shower and clean up so we can get some lunch. My stomach is not happy with me.”

The opening was too easy for Fine to ignore. “What’s the rule about going at the same time?”

Pinkie paused, her smile frozen as her eyes roamed slowly up and down his body. Then she shivered, turned away, and spoke with aplomb. “Tempt me not! My insides will never forgive me if I delay any longer because of you.” A blushing peek over her shoulder. “M-maybe tonight?”

He walked backwards for the bathroom, waving his hoof in a flourish and bowing his head as he spoke with exaggerated pomp. “I shall await the lady’s blessing with great anticipation.” Grinning at her giggles, he got to cleaning the morning activity away. In a way, he couldn’t believe just what the two of them had been up to the last few hours. If somepony had told him a day ago that he could waste so much time on… bodily functions, he’d have laughed in their faces. Or been offended. Now he was half-hoping Pinkie would succumb to her own desire and slip in the shower for another round. Then again, more like two-thirds-hoping.

Was this normal behavior for couples? Were Mr. and Mrs. Cake doing stuff like this at any given opportunity? Rainbow and Nye? That latter suggestion confirmed that, no, couples didn’t behave like this. If they did, he was sure he would have noticed Rainbow and Nye slipping off to do things throughout their adventure in the Everfree. Perhaps it was a ‘new couple’ thing. There could be no denying that Pinkie and he had a lot of pent up energy from months of beating around the bush. Why in Equestria had that metaphorical shrub ever been so intimidating?

Pinkie called from the room. “Hey, Fine. What did you want to do today after… uh…” She paused, perhaps to check the actual time. “Brunch?”

He grinned around the water cascading down his face. “Is ‘more bed time’ an option?”

“Yes,” she replied firmly. Then, with a bit more reluctance, “Buuut we probably shouldn’t. I mean, what’s Petri thinking about us right now? Not to mention everypony else that’s used to seeing us out and about. Besides, I wanna show my stud off.”

A lewd image involving town square popped into mind and brought a new heat to Fine’s cheeks. “I had no idea you were into voyeurism, Sugarflanks.”

The sputtering was just audible over the shower. “I didn’t mean it like that, Peepee!”

“Good, ‘cause that’s a big jump from what I’m comfortable with right now.” He’d meant it as a joke, but there was no denying the truth behind the words. “If you want to go around town boasting that we’re together, well… I guess I’ve got nothing against that.”

“Don’t worry,” she called, “I only wanna tell our best friends. Y’know, Sunflower, Scilly, Cotton and PS. I’d mention Petri, but…”

Fine agreed, the stallion probably knew all about what was going on. Especially after his insinuations last night and the fact both Pinkie and Fine were hours later for breakfast than was normal. Shutting off the water, Fine began toweling himself off. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Oh, and the R.E.G.A.L. guys are leaving town today,” Pinkie added conversationally. “It’s too late for a ‘Good Job, Everypony!’ party, but I’d like to thank some of them. I’m sure Rarity would like that.”

“She probably would.” Pinkie said nothing to his response, so he focused on drying off. When he stepped out of the bathroom, it was to find Pinkie sitting in the corner where she’d thrown the blue dress aside sometime last night. She held it in her hooves, staring at the fabric with a forlorn expression. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “I was just… thinking.”

“About what?” He settled at her side and put a leg around her withers. “Did you ruin the dress?”

“No, it’s okay.” She tittered, though it was an unusually quiet sound for her. “I’m not even worried about the dress. But I am worried about you.”

He cocked his head. “Me?”

“You.” She leaned into him, breathing out a long sigh as she did. “You remember yesterday? When I was telling you about how I was homeless?”

Where was she going with this? “Yeah.”

She shifted, and if anything seemed to come a little closer. “I remember. You… got this look. I didn’t like it.”

A look. That could mean anything. But whatever it was, it was clearly important to her. “Okay. What kind of look?”

“I found my family.” Her response only served to confuse him more. “I found it. The Cakes. Sometimes I think I don’t deserve them, especially days like yesterday. Still, they’re my family. I love them so much.”

Fine wished he knew how to answer that. He fumbled with words in his head, trying to find the right ones. “Of course.” It was a throwaway, a bid for more time.

She tilted her head to look up at him with those big blue eyes. He wondered if he could find a way to weaponize them. They certainly had his heart pattering. “You never found that. Right?”

Hesitation stalled him even as his earlier considerations died. “I… I had…” He almost said ‘my father’, but he knew that didn’t count. He’d cared about his father, true, but they hadn’t been family. Not in the way Pinkie meant. Not since his mother died. And his father was gone now, too. He thought of who else might qualify. Fleur came to mind. She was like a sister to him, if he was honest, but were they really close enough to be called ‘family’? No, probably not.

“I’ll be your family,” Pinkie whispered, tucking her muzzle under his neck. Her curly mane tickled his chin. “I want you to have that, too. You don’t have to be a lone wolf anymore.”

“You sure you wanna do that,” he replied with a smirk. “I might eat you. Big bad wolf and all that.”

She pulled back to look at him, and there was a firmness in her gaze he wasn’t accustomed to seeing. She said nothing, only let her displeasure be known in her eyes. Fine was taken aback. Gradually, his ears lowered. He turned his gaze away. “I’m sorry.”

“Family is important.” Her voice held as much strength as her eyes. “I want you to be part of mine. Please don’t make light of that.”

Pinkie’s tone stung more than her words. Fine winced and rubbed his foreleg. “I… I didn’t mean to sound insensitive. I’m just not used to the idea. The last time I had anything resembling what you’re suggesting, I wasn’t afraid of water. I’d like to be part of your family, Pinkie, please don’t think otherwise.”

With a sigh, Pinkie was pressed to his side again. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I’ll show you what family really means. Then you’ll know why it’s so important.”

“I…” Fine pondered the suggestion. “Okay.” The glance she sent him clarified that ‘okay’ was not enough. “I get what you’re saying, Little Miss. I just think I’ll have to experience it before I really… understand. For what it’s worth, right now, with my extremely limited capacity of knowledge regarding the subject?” He smiled and nuzzled her cheek. “I’d be glad to be part of your family.”

“I’ll help you understand,” she whispered, her smile turning warm. “You deserve it. Everypony does. Nopony should be without family.”

Their day was active, to say the least. Pinkie was determined to share the news of her official ‘special somepony’ status to her friends.

She had a lot of friends. First, they went to visit Sunflower.

“I told you she was crazy about you,” the magician said, grinning and nudging Fine’s side with an elbow. “You could have been in this position ages ago if you’d just studded up and kissed her, I bet.”

Pinkie thought Fine’s blushing grin adorable. “That’s okay, because we’re together now and making up for all the lost time with lots of snugglies and snogging.”

Fine sputtered. “P-Pinkie!”

“Oh-ho!” Sunflowers eyes waggled in Pinkie’s direction. “With his skills, I bet he knows all the best hiding places for on-demand face-sucking. How many unique places has he taken you to?” The poor stallion’s face was like a ripe tomato. His lack of stuttering probably had something to do with an inability to breathe.

Pinkie felt her heart pitter-patter and her face split into a wide grin. “Oh. My. Gosh, Sunflower, that’s an amazing idea! Fine, you’ve gotta use your Sneaky McSneakery superpowers to find all sorts of cool places for us to get cozy. Under stairs, in closets, in Twilight’s library, in trees, in trash cans, in—”

Fine covered his cherry face with both hooves. “P-Pinkie, mercy. Please.”

Picklestone lowered a jar of pickles into a large steel pot to join others in water. “So you two are finally together, eh?”

Pinkie nodded enthusiastically, hoofing him the next jar. “Yep! And it’s so awesome and amazing and Fine’s taking it like a champ.”

PS grinned as he took the jar and placed it next to its kin. He started work sealing a lid onto the pot. “That’s great news! So where is he now?”

“Outside.” She giggled at her old friend’s curious look. “Apparently he’s not fond of pickles. Doesn’t even like the smell.” She promptly took a bite of the free one she’d been given. It offered a loud crunch, much to her satisfaction.

“Ah-ha!” Slapping the top of the sealed pot, Picklestone lit the fire on the stove and turned to her. “So he doesn’t like pickles, does he? In that case, I know what to threaten him with.”

“Threaten him? Why would you want to do that?”

“You’re my good friend, Pinkie Pie, and no good friend of mine is going to get her heart broken without repercussions.” Picklestone raised a hoof high as if to dictate terms. “I solemnly swear that should Fine Crime ever hurt you, I will sneak into his house and infuse all of his food stores with pickle flavoring.”

Pinkie giggle-snorted at that thought. “Good luck, you’re gonna need it. Fine’s house is pretty hard to get into. I appreciate the thought, but I’m a big filly. Oh!” She ran her tongue along the side of her pickle with devilish glee. “I’m gonna finish this, then I’m gonna go kiss him. It’ll be hilarious!”

Her pleasure rubbed off on the stallion, who promptly threw off his apron. “This I’ve gotta watch.”

Cotton raised an eyebrow at Fine’s sour face. “You know, he doesn’t look so happy about this.”

Pinkie was still giggling. “Don’t worry, he’s just got pickle taste in his mouth.”

“It’s nasty,” Fine added with gravitas through gritted teeth. “She spat it in. I have tasted death, and it is pickles.” He shuddered. “I don’t like pickles.”

Cotton stared at him, then sent a nonplussed look Pinkie’s way.

“I’m trying to teach him the value of pranking,” she explained with a shrug and a smile.

Fine leveled a glare her way. “By what measure of anypony’s scale can this foulness be considered to have value? My mouth has become a magical waste site, the repository of some of the worst funks ponykind has ever concocted, and you think it a point of humor.”

Pinkie’s grin was like hardened steel against his unpleasantness. “Yes, yes I do.”

His eyes narrowed. “There shall be repercussions, thou pink plague. The vengeance that shall be bestowed upon you will be remembered when this time is but ancient history. Princess Luna will mark it a holiday so that none shall forget the epic nature of your regret.”

Cotton grinned and leaned towards Pinkie. “He’s really getting into it.”

“I know, right?” With another giggle, she sent Fine her most innocent smile and a teasing wave.

“That’s wonderful news, you two,” Scilla said, setting aside some blueprints on her desk. “I’m glad to see you’re taking it seriously.”

Pinkie nodded solemnly and patted Fine on the back. “Fine here takes everything seriously. Especially if it’s not serious. Like pranking. I think he’s got a doozy whipped up for me.”

“No,” Fine grumbled, licking his lips and grimacing. “At least, not yet. But someday.”

“You see? He’s already learning the most important rule: don’t let the prankee know a prank is coming.”

Scilla steepled her hooves on her desk and looked over the two with utmost seriousness. “We can get to the bottom of who is pranking who later. Right now, there is something far more serious that we need to discuss.”

Pinkie gasped theatrically and leaned closer, ears turning forward. “What is it, what, what?”

The dark-coated mare’s smirk could have frightened the chaos out of Discord. “When is the wedding, how many foals can we expect, and is he as good at doinking as he is at hiding?”

Fine’s eyes shot wide open. “F-foals?”

“W-wedding?” Pinkie thought her stomach might have imploded and produced a million butterflies with wings made from raw icing that was trying to give her a sugar rush. “That’s… I don’t…”

They shared a pale-faced glance before blurting out in tandem, “Too soon!”

Scilla nearly fell out of her chair laughing.

Petri hoofed them the covered jars of soup. “Are you sure you don’t want me to whip up something special?”

“Nope, we’re good.” Pinkie stuffed hers into her mane. At Fine’s questioning look, she added his in there too. “If I’m gonna have a special splenderific meal to celebrate, it’ll come with a party and the ability to eat solid food.” At the stallion’s pout, she asked, “What’s the matter?”

Fine smiled and patted Petri’s shoulder. “You wanted to be part of the festivities, eh?”

He nodded dejectedly. “You two have been great for business. Plus, watching you go from the bumbling kids to the proud special someponies you are now has been a treat.” He kicked at the floor with a sigh. “It’ll be a lot quieter around here when you go.”

“Aww, poor, poor Petri.” Pinkie almost went in to give him a hug, but stopped herself. Petri didn’t seem like the type to be comforted with mere hugs. Rubbing her chin, she said, “Maybe when I’m all better you can come to Ponyville. Yeah! I usually go with Sugarcube Corner because family and all, but I can make an exception.”

Fine raised a forestalling hoof and spoke with a playfully lecturing tone. “Pinkie, you can’t invite all of Rockstead to Ponyville for a party.”

“Aww, why not?” His incredulous eyebrow brought out the giggles in her. “Silly Fine, of course I can’t invite everypony. Just our friends. Ah-ah.” She waggled her hoof in his face before any words could tumble out of his open mouth. “Our friends, as opposed to my friends. Fair enough?”

He blinked, thought, then smiled. “Fair enough.”

“I’d be happy to cater in Ponyville,” Petri declared, his own grin back in full force. “I’ll even whip up some new recipes for you two to test, since you didn’t get to try much while you were here beyond soups. Could I use your kitchen?”

“I’d have to clear that up with the Cakes, so no promises.” She let out a gasp and flicked her tail up. A light bulb popped out and landed, perfectly balanced, upon the tip of her snout. “Idea! We can have the party at Fine’s place.”

Fine’s face went pale. “What?”

“Pinkie?”

Trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, she looked over her shoulder. Fine had his head low and his ears flat against his skull. He appeared almost as anxious as she felt. “I thought we were going to have a picnic.”

Pinkie nodded and tried to smile for him. “We are. There’s a picnic area by the river, remember?”

“I remember.” He studied her as he caught up, concern blatant in his gaze. “But do you really want to have it there? I mean, with what happened…”

Her throat was dry and her hooves felt like lead, but she forced them to keep moving. They’d be approaching the valley soon. “I want to have it here. It’s… important.”

Fine said no more, but kept close. She flicked her tail so that it wrapped around his. He couldn’t return the gesture as his tail was too short, but he smiled anyway. Pinkie’s hooves didn’t seem so heavy when he looked at her like that. Together, they trotted off the old road and down into the valley of tall pine trees. The place didn’t seem so dead and lonely as it had before. She reminded herself that these pine trees were of a variety that only seemed bare. In reality, it was common for them to grow wide trunks of extreme heights with only occasional, needle-covered limbs. They were gangly things, but healthy.

They came upon the picnic area by the river. The dock was just where it had always been, pristine and uncaring for the coldness in Pinkie’s blood. She purposely avoided looking at the water, instead focusing on getting to one of the picnic tables. Yet when the time came, she still forced herself to face the dock.

Fine stood to the side, looking between her and the muddy river. After a moment of shuffling and mumbling to himself, he finally chose to sit opposite her. She wasn’t sure why he chose to sit there instead of by her side. Maybe it was so she could focus on him instead of the dock? That sounded like something he’d do.

As she pulled the jars of soup from her mane, Fine asked, “What’s your intention here?”

She smiled for him, knowing it probably wouldn’t help his concern. “Surprise died here.” He nodded, clearly not understanding. “If I stay here for a little bit, maybe it’ll help me get over the past.”

His lips curled into a sideways frown, his rosewood eyes not leaving hers. “I’m not sure this is the best thing for you to do.”

“I have to try something,” she replied, rolling the jar around in her hooves in a bid to get rid of her excess anxiety. She cast her gaze around the picnic area, half-expecting to see a familiar pale mare.

“You’ve been trying something,” he countered, though not with any force. “What do you call what we’ve been doing the last couple weeks?”

Pursing her lips, Pinkie studied the shifting, swirling ingredients within her jar. She recalled the way She knew where they were sleeping. The voices in her head that had nearly all been quieted, if not completely silenced. All but one. “It’s not enough. It just isn’t.”

Neither said anything for a time. The air was filled with the faint gurgling of the river, the light calls of birds, and the gentle rustling of the wind. It was a cool day, just enough so to be comfortable. A nice day for a picnic, or so Pinkie believed. If only she could get into the spirit of things. She realized she wanted Fine by her side. The table wasn’t wide, but it felt to her like he was a million miles away. She’d been having so much fun today, fun with him. Why’d she have to go and ruin it by insisting they come here?

“There’s one more, isn’t there?”

A black claw clenched her heart. She met his gaze with a whimper. “Y-yes.”

He nodded, hooves resting on the table and expression solemn. “Care to tell me who?” When she shook her head, he sighed. “Pinkie, I’m not sure this is going to work at its best if you don’t.”

“I know,” she whispered, holding the jar to her chest as if it might protect her. “But this isn’t the same. I’m afraid to face her. What if she hates me? She does. She hates me. If I go, she m-might…”

“I’ll be with you,” he reminded her, as patient as ever.

“I’m not sure even you can protect me from this,” she replied, turning her eyes to the worn wood of their table. “Some things are impossible.”

He reached for her. After a moment’s hesitation, she met his hoof with her own. He smiled for her. “Whatever it is, I promise, I’ll be there. I’ll do whatever I can.” His hoof squeezed hers.

Butterflies flew laps in her stomach. She managed a smile. “I appreciate that you want to help.”

His expression fell. “You don’t believe I can. Pinkie, please, let me try.”

“I’m not brave enough.”

Fine blinked, cocked his head one way, then another. “After all we’ve done, you don’t think you’re brave enough?”

Grimacing, she pulled her hoof away. “I told you, it isn’t the same. This is…” She fumbled with her words, trying to find the right way to explain it to him. A way without outright admitting that she’d… “It isn’t the same,” she finished lamely.

Lips pursed, Fine tapped a hoof on the table. He stared right at her face, his own thoughtful and frustrated. She still couldn’t meet his gaze. “Would you say this is the most frightening thing you’ll ever have to face?”

Not sure why he’d ask such a thing, Pinkie merely nodded. It didn’t take much consideration.

Fine closed his eyes. Heaved a deep breath. Nodded. “I think it’s finally time for that trust exercise I’ve been considering.” He stood up and walked away.

Pinkie only sat there, watching him approach the docks. What was he doing? Trust exercise? “Fine?” When he didn’t answer, she set her jar on the table next to his and followed. She caught up with him just as he stopped by the dock. His face had gone slightly pale. “What are you doing?”

“Like I said, a trust exercise.” He didn’t look at her. His face remained aimed forward, his neck tense as if he were resisting the urge to change its position. Lips firmly closed, nostrils flaring, his body rose and fell with his heavy breathing. Then, with hesitant steps, he started walking onto the dock. One step. Two.

He was over the water, his steps quiet on the wood. Pinkie watched, ears low as she tried to make sense of this. “Fine, you don’t need to go out there. What’s the point?”

“The point,” he replied, a faint stutter in his tone, “is to show you how much I trust you. And honestly? I’m regretting this already. Please don’t try to talk me out of it or I might actually listen.” He was a half-dozen feet out now. The wobbling of his knees were likely part of why he was going so slowly.

Pinkie wasn’t sure how to feel. How was him braving the dock a show of his trust in her? It was confounding, but in a small way she was also a little proud of him for taking this step. Perhaps he was trying to impress her. She’d spent the last couple weeks facing her demons. Perhaps this was his way of showing he could do the same thing. But that still didn’t amount to a trust exercise. Frowning, she started to follow him, keeping a few feet away lest she be tempted to grab him.

Fine’s tail was tucked around his flank. His breathing came in slow, long gasps. “Th-this will have to do,” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. With shuffling steps, he turned around at a snail’s pace. The motion put him closer to the edge of the dock, the water lapping at the wood beneath his hooves. The smile he offered her was tremulous and showed too many teeth. “It might be too dangerous to go any further.”

Despite herself, Pinkie smiled for him. A genuine one, if small. “It’s not like the water’s going to jump up and grab you.” She took a step closer. “Still, I’m impressed you made it that far. Do you need help getting back?”

He chuckled, a jittery and uneven sound that made the hair on Pinkie’s neck stand on end. He closed his eyes tight. “More than you know.”

Then he tipped over into the water.

A precious second passed by for an eternity, the moment replaying in her mind. By the next second, she was sprinting. He’d fallen against the current, so he’d be going under the dock. Her blood chilled upon realizing that he would probably have no idea how to resurface. She dove, slipping into the icy, dark water without a second’s hesitation. Her world became brown and ugly, her range of vision so short she could barely see her hoof before her face. What if she couldn’t find him? What if he couldn’t resurface? What if nopony ever saw him again?

No! Stay calm, Pinkamena. You can do this.

Pinkie Sense. It wasn’t something she could actively control, but if she concentrated hard enough… Come on… Give me something. Help me help him. Please…

Her right hoof trembled. She quickly realized it had nothing to do with the cold. She swam right, legs fighting the current. The trembling lessened. She straightened. Her lungs began to burn, but she didn’t dare rise. Not yet. If she was having trouble, Fine would be in even worse shape.

Her left hoof tingled as if it had been shocked. She followed the sensation, paddling sideways with the current. A shape emerged, and for an instant Pinkie knew relief. Until she bumped up against it and realized it was nothing more than a submerged log. The fire was building in her chest. Where are you? Oh, Celestia. Fine, what were you thinking? You stupid, stupid colt!

Her rear hoof twisted as if attempting to pull her backwards. She reacted on instinct, turning around and swimming against the current. The log. She was heading back for the log. Why the log? Was Pinkie Sense guiding her in the wrong direction? She couldn’t afford to make a mistake now!

The log came into view. Her ears twitched and folded against her head. She swam lower, running her hoof along the log’s knotted surface—there! Something soft, something shivering. It had to be Fine. She felt carefully and realized he’d curled into a ball and was being pressed against the log and the river bottom by the current. Though her legs ached from the effort and her lungs were threatening to burst, she took her time moving around the log. She thanked Celestia for earth pony strength, easily dislodging him and wrapping her forelegs around his middle. Her precious cargo secured, she began walking along the river bottom in the direction her trembling hind legs suggested was shore. At least, she hoped they were. It was impossible to tell if their wobbling was Pinkie Sense or her own strength giving out.

The murk grew lighter, even despite the mud she was kicking up. Fine shook like a foal in his mother’s arms. Just when it felt like Pinkie was going to lose her battle against her lungs, her head poked out of the water. Not quite far enough to get her mouth out, she sucked in precious air through her nostrils. One breath. Two. Then she grabbed Fine by the head and pushed it above water. He let out a gasp and started coughing up murky, brown liquids.

Pinkie’s heart slowed, but relief didn’t come. Something else came along, transferring the furnace from her lungs to her brain. She dragged Fine out of the water and threw him onto the muddy bank. Then she just stood there, still knee-deep in the water, and seethed.

Fine continued to hack and wheeze, water bursting from his lips and nostrils. When it was finally over, he rolled onto his back and laughed. It was the kind of sound one makes when they realize they are not, in fact, on death’s door. “Th-that is not… something I ever… intend to repeat,” he said through his gasps.

With one last breath, Pinkie stomped towards him. He saw her approach but made no attempt to get up. She caught his mane in her teeth and jerked him to his hooves, eliciting a pained yelp from the stallion. Then, once sure that he was standing on his own four trembling hooves, she reared around and bucked him with all the strength she could muster. She might not be able to buck like Applejack, but she was still an earth pony, and the force of her blow sent Fine flying into a nearby tree shoulder-first.

For a time, there was silence. Pinkie glared at the river, not bothering to shake off the water or wipe her soaked mane from her face.

Then Fine spoke, his voice weak. “Ow. Okay, I admit, I had that coming.”

“That, and so much more,” Pinkie growled through her teeth. Then she turned on him. He lay in a position not unlike how Lyra Heartstrings would sometimes sit on benches, legs sprawled apart and head spinning. “What the heck were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that? You could have been killed! What if I hadn’t reacted fast enough? What if my Pinkie Sense didn't help me save you? You don’t even know how to swim!”

He raised a hoof, but couldn’t keep it steady. “None of those things happened. B-because… because…” His eyes slowly widened. “Oh, Luna, I can’t b-believe I did that.” He curled in on himself, rocking and staring at nothing. His breathing became ragged. “I knew y-you’d save me, but still… Tartarus. Tartarus. N-never again.”

Pinkie stomped, sending mud flying. “You didn’t know that! You had no idea if I could do it! What is wrong with you?” She almost bucked him again, but restrained herself. She stomped in a pacing circle, steam rising from her nostrils with every fiery breath. “That was stupid. So stupid! Why would you do that, Fine? I want to know why before I buck you back in!”

“I t-trust you.” His small pupils locked with her hard gaze. He looked every bit the child who had just awoken from a nightmare. “I trust you, P-Pinkie. With my greatest fear. With my life. I trust y-you.”

His gaze doused water on her flames but couldn’t completely extinguish them. She stared at him, throat suddenly dry. Her heart twisted at that fearful, pleading expression. “There are betters ways to show that.”

“There aren’t,” he muttered, wrapping his forelegs around himself. “There aren’t. M-my life had to be in danger.”

“No, it didn’t!”

“I knew you’d s-save me.”

“No, you didn't!” Pinkie lowered her head and tried not to let the tears out. She could feel her lip trembling as the shock and adrenaline vacated her system. “You didn’t. You could have died. I might not have gotten to you in time. What then, Fine?”

Slowly, ever so gradually, he pulled himself out of his ball and sat up. His teeth chattered as he smiled. “Not once. Even when my lungs felt like they’d burst and I still hadn’t felt your touch. Not once did I ever doubt you’d be there. Not even death and fear will take away my faith in you. If I need you, you’ll be there.”

Her voice cracked. “But I might not!”

“Then I’ll die believing you will.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” She threw her hooves in the air, and when they came back down they landed on his shoulders. She pulled him into a tight hug and buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing. “That doesn’t make sense. It d-doesn’t make sense at all.”

He wrapped her in his forelegs and nuzzled her neck. “To steal a line from a certain draconequus, where’s the fun in making sense?”

Pinkie jerked back. “Don’t say that! He might actually show up.”

Fine’s muddy hooves caught her face. He grinned. “I love you so much.” He moved in for a kiss.

She moved away, holding him back with a hoof to his chest. “You promise me you’ll never do something like that again. Pinkie Promise!”

His smile not fading one iota, Fine went through the appropriate motions. “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” At last his cheer faded to something subtler. He leaned in and nuzzled her once more. “I am sorry, Pinkie. Really. But I had to show you somehow. I trust you with my very soul, and I want to do anything I can for you. But I can’t do that if you won’t let me.”

She licked her lips, cringing at the grit that ended up on her tongue. She had to answer. Fine’s intentions were clear. What he’d just done was one of the most idiotic things she’d ever witnessed… but the message had been delivered. She should reciprocate. She knew it. Yet the thought of going to that place again, of facing what she’d done…

“I’ll think about it,” she muttered, holding tight to him once more. “T-tomorrow. Give me until then.” Please don’t make me Pinkie Promise. Please, oh, please…

Fine answered without hesitation. “Tomorrow, then.” He leaned back to smile for her. “So. Shall we get back to our dinner or would you like to buck me again?”

“Oh, my goodness!” She jumped back and eyed him, gasping upon seeing a pair of bruises forming on the side of his chest. “I kicked you real hard. I didn’t break anything, did I? Do we need to get a doctor?”

As if bringing the attack up reminded him of the pain, Fine flinched and felt at his wound. “Pretty sure you bruised a rib or two. Might be a hairline fracture. I’ve had worse.”

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry.” She raised her hooves to her lips, trembling as she realized just how hard she’d hit him. “I-I’ll get Dr. Sawbones. We’ll get you fixed up in a jiffy, just you wait!”

She didn’t get a single step in before Fine caught her tail in his magic and pinned it to the ground. “No, no, there’s no need for that. I’ll just have to be a little less active for a few days, that’s all. This is a minor inconvenience compared to some of the things I’ve gotten as an Archon.”

No matter how much she tugged, Fine’s magical grip on her tail was impossible to budge. Sighing, she sat down once more and studied his bruises. “You’re not exactly a young buck anymore. You can’t keep taking hits like that.”

“Are we gonna have to get you a nurse’s outfit?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, prompting a fresh fire to come to her cheeks. “Actually, I don’t think I’d mind that.”

“Fine, be serious!”

“You, asking me to be serious?”

“Fiiine!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

Pressing a hoof to her face, she grumbled, “For such a smart stallion, you sure can be an idiot sometimes. I still can’t believe you did that.”

He stared soberly at his hooves, a flash of anxiety passing through his eyes. “Neither can I. It really was stupid of me, wasn’t it?” He flinched and added, quietly, “Let’s just keep this one between us, hmm? If any of your friends find out about this…”

“You’d get what you deserve.” Heaving a sigh, Pinkie turned away. “Come on, let’s get something to eat. My soup’s gonna be all gritty now thanks to you.”

“Sorry.” He got up and limped to her side. They walked in silence for a little while, the currents having taken them well away from the camp. Pinkie spent the trip thinking about what Fine had done and what it really meant. As upset as she still was over it, she had to admit that it had done exactly what he’d intended. What more powerful statement could he have possibly offered her? The fact that Fine trusted her that much had a polarizing effect on her emotions. There was great pleasure in knowing he thought so highly of her, but also a numbing horror that she might not be worthy of such trust.

What could she do with this? She had no idea. Fine’s purpose was obvious. Did that mean she could trust him to help her get through one last piece of her past? The most important piece. If his theory regarding Bloodmanes was true, then it might be the single most important thing she could do. He deserved to know. It was wrong of her to refuse to do it, especially after going through so much these past two weeks. Was this really so much worse?

Yes. It really was.

Fine bumped her with his shoulder, drawing her out of her hoofbiting thoughts. “So, am I sleeping in my own room, tonight?”

She almost took it to be a joke, but a glance out the corner of her eye revealed he was completely serious. It struck her as amusing; he was like the husband who’d been bad and feared he’d be banished to the couch. What did that say about their relationship that it already felt that way? Her mental highway nearly crashed at the thought that they might have just had their first lover’s quarrel. Somehow she managed to steer around the wrecked Pinkies and Rainbows and Rarities and keep her mind on track, though she might have left a few skid marks in the pavement.

Her mind settled on a simple truth, which prompted her to lean into him. “I only just got you to stay with me,” she cooed in his ear. “I’m not ready to give that up yet.”

With a sad smile, he pressed his cheek to hers. “You’re too good for me. I’m really sorry I put you through all that.”

“I know you are.” She smiled. “We need showers.”

He pulled his head away just enough to send her a sidelong, wry look. “Together?”

Her smile became a grin. “Together sounds good.”

They pressed together once more, and soon Fine was whispering a familiar stanza. “You're in my heart, you're in my soul…”

Author's Note

Day 12

“So, where are you going next?”

Pinkie latched onto the question, pronking around Sunflower. The fact that the mare was already hitched to her wagon was no impediment to the ‘around’ part. “Oh, oh, Canterlot? Las Pegasus? Vanhoover? Hoofington? The Thestral tribes? Thunderhead? Seaddle? Grypha? Canterlot High? Bridle Falls? Cloudsdale? Estéril Pezuñas?”

She jerked to a stop when Fine’s magic caught her tail, and Sunflower promptly pressed a hoof to her lips. The magician giggled. “Home. It’s about time I visited Mom and Dad.”

Pinkie pulled her face away, the hoof leaving her lips with a loud ‘pop’. “Aww, I was just about to guess Manehattan.” Fine patted her withers, then shifted to tugging her in for a one-legged hug. The close contact brought an involuntary but entirely welcome smile to her face. Every time he demonstrated a public openness to their relationship it sent little warm Fluttershies twirling around in her heart.

He turned his attention back to a beaming Sunflower. “If you ever feel like visiting, you know where to find us. Most of the time, at least. Our respective jobs tend to keep us travelling.”

“I’ll be sure to send you a letter if I’m ever heading to Ponyville.” Sunflower looked from him to Pinkie and back. A smile seemed to have been permanently grafted onto her face. “I still can’t believe how close you two have become since you got to Rockstead. You’re so cute together.”

Fine promptly nuzzled Pinkie behind her ear, making her giggle. “It was touch and go there for a while,” he said, “but I think we’ll be okay now.”

Smirking, Pinkie winked at Sunflower and added, “There’ll be a lot less ‘go’ and a lot more ‘touch’ from now on. I’m sure he’s picked some nice, quiet, shadowy, out-of-the-way places for some quality face-sucking time.” The choking sound he made got both the mares tittering. She looked up to see his face all red and his eyes darting around the park. Pecking him on the chin, she added, “You’re so cute when flustered.”

“He really is.” Sunflower took a moment to adjust her harness. Her smile grew subdued. “This trip didn’t go at all how I expected. I’m glad I got to meet you again, Fine. I never thought I’d get the chance to thank you properly.”

“The pleasure was all mine, Little…” Fine paused. He glanced at Pinkie, a question in his eyes.

The Fluttershies did an encore. They must be cooking too, because Pinkie felt warm all over. She nodded before leaning against him, content in his presence.

He gave her a squeeze, then turned his attention back to the magician. “The pleasure was all mine, Little Miss. It’s good to know you’ve come so far since Horseshoe Park. Good to know that even back then, I was able to do something right by somepony.”

He was smiling at Sunflower. Sunflower was smiling back. It was all warm and sweet and gooey and made the Fluttershies very happy. Pinkie glanced between them a few times before asking, perfectly serious, “You two need a moment?”

It was Sunflower who answered, rubbing her leg as she averted her eyes. “No. I think I’m good. Come here.” At her gesture, Pinkie approached and accepted a tight hug. “Take care of my Shadow Pony, okay?”

Grinning, Pinkie nuzzled the mare’s shoulder. “I’ll try, but you know how slippery shadow ponies are.”

“If anypony can keep up with him, it’s you.” She let go, and Pinkie begrudgingly returned to her colt’s side. “Fine, don’t let her run you ragged.”

He snorted and smirked. “Thanks, you just gave her a challenge. Now I’m doomed.”

“Don’t worry,” Pinkie sing-songed, flicking his flank with her tail. “I’ll go easy on him. At first.”

“As long as there’s something left in there for me to talk to when I come by to visit.” Chuckling, Sunflower started for the park’s exit. “Goodbye, you two. I’ll write soon.”

“So long, Little Miss.”

“Bye, Sunflower. Have fun visiting your parents. And don’t forget, every magician needs fireworks!” Pinkie didn’t stop waving until the wagon was out of sight among the trees. She heard Fine sigh and turned to find a melancholic smile on his lips. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” He turned from the exit and started walking. No attempt was made to hide the moisture in his eyes. “I just can’t decide on whether I regret leaving her alone all these years. On the one hoof, watching her grow might have been a boon for my sense of self-worth. On the other, it might have led to her getting tangled up in Archon business, and I’d have never forgiven myself for it.”

That did sound like a dilemma. Pinkie bounced to his other side and pressed against him with a giddy smile. “It’s all over and done, right? No need to worry about that now. Everything turned out okay.”

He considered this, not losing that little smile. He remained that way for a while, but Pinkie was sure he’d figure it out. She devoted herself to staying nestled against him and delighting in his scent. Who knew that the mere act of being close to somepony could make her so happy? She’d be pronking like a madmare if it weren’t for the fact that it would deprive her of this contact.

They were nearly out of the park when Fine nuzzled her head. “You’re right, it was for the better. Thanks, Pinkie.”

“No problem.” She raised her chin expectantly. “That’ll cost you one kiss.” He didn’t hesitate to oblige, and her fetlocks curled at the contact. They held that blissful position for as long as they could, only pulling back when air became a necessity. As they continued their walk, Pinkie said, “I like the kissing game. Nopony loses.”

“I’m partial to it, myself.” Fine’s smile lost some of its luster. He glanced at her out the corner of his eye. “So. We’ve got a couple days left. What’s on the agenda?”

Her ears folded back at his hesitant tone. She knew exactly what he was really asking. It was nice of him to leave the decision up to her, though. Her hooves came to a stop, too leaden to take her any further, and her head lowered as if a weight had fallen upon it. She closed her eyes and saw that pale pony with her mane hiding her face. Watching her. It wasn’t over. It wouldn’t be over until…

“Pinkie?”

She shook her head. The image faded, but the sense of being watched didn’t go away. Opening her eyes, she stared at her hooves. “W-we came here to open up to one another. Truly. No more secrets. No more hiding. But…” She raised her head to look into his rosewood eyes. Those loving, worried eyes. “You’ll be with me the whole time? N-never leave my side?”

He stepped forward to press his forehead to hers. “Discord himself couldn’t pry me away.”

She tried to smile. It hurt too much. “I keep telling you to stop tempting him like that.”

He hummed, resting his forelegs on her withers and pulling her close. “If you don’t want to do this, I won’t make you.”

“But you want me to,” she whispered.

“I do.”

She sucked in a deep breath. Another. They kept coming, slow, steady. A battle against nerves. She jumped when he pressed against her side. A glance at his face showed patience. Not concern. Just patience and, far worse, trust. If she said no, he wouldn’t press her… but he would be disappointed. Could she refuse that handsome, faithful face? If she didn’t, then she’d have to deal with…

This was what it was all about. All the memories, all the nightmares, all the visions. It all came down to this. And deep down, Pinkie knew that if she didn’t do it now she never would. The rest of her life would be spent thinking about this moment, this failure. Would she lose Fine over this? Not now, but in the future? If the nightmares grew worse, if She followed her back to Ponyville…

It had to be done. She knew it. As much as the thought chilled her blood, it was now or never. “L-let’s go.” She tried to walk. Her legs wouldn’t move. “I could use a push.”

He gave a faint chuckle and stepped back. “If you buck me for touching your flank, I will be very cross with you.” He tapped her cutie mark playfully, then wrapped a leg around her withers and pulled her forward. She didn’t budge at first, but he gradually increased the pressure until her legs started moving. “My ribs would never forgive you.”

The attempt to lighten the mood was appreciated, even if it had little effect. “Take the short way,” she whispered, pressing her face to his shoulder so as to block her sight. “I want to get it over with quickly.”

“Alright. It’s gonna be okay. I promise.”

She shook her head against his fur. “What have I told you about making promises you can’t keep?”

“You can do this,” he replied, and the confidence in his words was as solid as rock. She wished she shared it.

She didn’t look up, didn’t dare to see how close they were coming. It would be a while yet. “I want…”

His warm breath tickled her ear. “Yes? Tell me.”

Her heart pattered at the pleasant sensation. “I want you to take me right to the… to the barn. I d-don’t want to look. If I look I might back out. Please, don’t give me the opportunity.”

He didn’t reply. For a time, things were quiet beyond their hoofsteps. Every now and then Pinkie’s ears perked to other sounds; ponies talking to one another, wagon wheels in the dirt, birds singing overhead. An average, pleasant day. The ground felt solid beneath her hooves. Idly, she realized it hadn’t rained once since they’d arrived. She had to wonder if the local weather team was planning a storm soon.

Distractions. That’s all they were. She forced her mind in so many different directions, not caring what those directions were so long as they weren’t aimed at Her. If she didn’t think about it, she wouldn’t freeze. She could do this. She just had to not think. Stop thinking, Pinkamena. Please…

Fine’s voice broke through her melancholic, idle thoughts. “I want you to know something.”

She shifted, but kept her face pressed firmly against his shoulder. “Hmm?”

The feel of his hoof through her mane sent warm tingles through her scalp. “No matter what happens today, I am so very proud of you.”

Proud. Somehow, she managed to smile. Fine was proud of her. She wasn’t sure if it was enough to help her through this, but she gladly used the pleasant heat wave the words granted her and shielded her heart against the cold. “Th-thank you.”

She let her mental highway run free for a while, inviting all the Fluttershies and Rainbow Dashes and Rarities — everypony she knew, really — to run amok. Wow, but she knew a lot of ponies. And nonponies. She ran facts and dates through her mind, birthdays and anniversaries and birthiversaries and party dates and client preferences and favorite colors and a million other things. So much information, sometimes she wondered how she stored it all. It seemed even Pinkie Pie didn’t understand all the ways of the Pinkie Pie.

Through all the rummaging around her cavernous cranium, the work came to a stop when she noticed a peculiar tidbit missing from her collection. “I don’t know your birthday.” He said nothing, and she wasn’t about to pull her face from his body and risk seeing how close they were to their destination.

After a while, he replied, “I’m not surprised. Archons tend to keep quiet about such personal things.”

Her ears perked. “About birthdays? What would be so bad about sharing that?”

“You never know.” He gave her a slight push to change their direction. The ground was still hard, so she knew they were still on a road. “Only so many foals are born on a given day. There’s a pool of potential identities for extra study.”

She understood his point. It didn’t take much for her to realize how far one could go with just a birthday, an age, and the right sources of information. Medical records, school records, police records. It would be a lot of names to comb through, but with the right kind of super-organized, determined pony… Twilight would have been able to do it. “So why not delete the records?”

He answered easily, as if the topic had been long engrained within his mind. “Because it’s not feasible. The odds of missing something are high. You can’t realistically wipe out all the data proving a pony exists. If you could, it would require significant resources. Agents planted in the bureaucracies, a constant set of eyes on the databases, things of that nature. It all costs money and horsepower, and while we aren’t hurting for one, we are certainly limited in both. Why go through all of that when we can instead train each one of us to just not say anything?”

She thought about that for a while, trying to imagine it from his perspective. “So the risk is worth it?”

“You can’t manage everything,” he admitted, though his glum manner suggested he wished otherwise. “Eventually one has to realize what is and isn’t within the scope of reality.” A moment’s pause. His muzzle tickled her ear. His next words were a faint whisper. “It’s September thirtieth, by the way.”

She pulled back to stare into his rosewood eyes, a smile growing on her lips. He smiled back, warm and trusting. That smile sent the Fluttershies into a frenzy of activity so intense it melted her heart and made her legs feel like putty. She promptly gave him a kiss, delighting in the pressure as he returned the motion. When it was over she buried her face in his coat again and sighed in contentment. She didn’t need any distractions. This little feeling within was all she needed.

Focusing on that blissful moment of trust was enough to take Pinkie’s mind out of the fight for a long while. She spent it wondering what she would do for his birthday. A party, obviously, but a private one. A party for two. Fine wouldn’t want his birthday spread around, after all. Unless they used a fake date, but then it would be a fake birthday party, and he deserved the real thing. Pinkie was a professional and wouldn’t settle for anything less. What would Fine like for his private birthday party? Cake? Games? Not his style. Cozying up with a good book?

Cozying…

Yes… That could work. Perhaps they could discuss that story he suggested they work together on. They could settle down on a couch, snuggled up close, whispering in the shadows that made Fine so comfortable. Maybe she could wear that dress Rarity made. Then again, maybe she could ask Rarity to make a different kind of dress. Maybe one with a saddle. The very idea warmed her face and made the Fluttershies hide behind their manes in embarrassment. Oh, but the Rarites were giving her that predatory grin she sometimes gets when ponies talk about special someponies within earshot.

For once, Pinkie grinned back.

When she finally surfaced from her little affection high (Highfection?), the first thing she noticed was the dirt under her hooves. It was like getting splashed in the face with ice water. “F-Fine? Are we getting close?”

Fine, his tone airy, asked, “Do you really want me to answer that?”

After a second or two of considering the pros and cons, she replied, “I guess not.”

“Didn’t think so.” His hoof ran through her mane before scratching lightly under her ear. She hummed with pleasure as her fear dropped off some. “What did you decide you wanted to do for my birthday?”

She giggled. “You know me so well.” Then, in a sing-song voice, added, “Not telling.”

“Aww, come on,” he whispered playfully in her ear. “Just a little hint?”

“Eeenope,” she fired back in her best Big McIntosh impression. “You don’t get to open your present until it’s time, young colt.”

“How cruel.” He nuzzled her forehead. “I just hope it’s something soft, smells of strawberries, and tastes like bubblegum.”

Whoop, the Fluttershies were hiding again. She giggled and faux-slapped his side. “Somepony is thinking naughty thoughts.”

“It’s not my fault you make it so easy.”

Then he stopped moving. The motion crumbled the wall of happiness that had been building up to this point, because she knew it could only mean one thing. She pressed herself even tighter against his side, whimpering and silently begging for him to continue moving.

His voice came back, comforting and sturdy. “You don’t have to do this.”

She kept breathing through his fur. Trying to build up some of that wall again. The little ponies on her mental highway even got out of their transports and tried to help, a multihued construction crew fighting to shore up the weaknesses and seal off the holes. Slowly, so very slowly, she pulled her face from Fine’s shoulder and looked forward. Now if she could just open her eyes…

She did, and she blinked. They were on the farm, but before them was a wall of darkness. A moment of confusion passed as she looked around to find that, yes, they were standing on the familiar hard landscape just past her old home. She looked to the wall of black and trembled. “Y-you shouldn’t have done that.”

“Sorry,” he whispered. He at least sounded sincere. Fine looked at her, but she was too focused on the blackness and what she knew lay just beyond it. “I’m going to drop it. Are you ready?”

“Don’t ask me that just do it do it now before I lose my nerve.” She could already feel her hind legs itching to move. “Please please please do it.”

The shadow dropped, and before her was the open barn door. Her body seemed to freeze in place and her throat tightened. She tried to move, to run away, but something held her forelegs firm. Out the corner of her eye, she noticed Fine’s horn aglow and thought she knew why she couldn’t move. She couldn’t even hope to tell him how grateful she was for it.

Through no small effort, Pinkie worked to focus on what was before her. Which was nothing. No creepy ghosties with long pale manes staring back at her. Just an empty barn. Perfectly empty. Nothing would harm her. “It’s f-fine,” she whispered to herself. “It’s all gonna be ok-kay.” Sucking in slow, sharp breaths, she traced the interior with her eyes. “G-giggle at the ghosties. That’s all I gotta do.”

Fine’s hoof ran along her back in gentle strokes. “It’s okay, Pinkie,” he whispered. “You’re doing good.”

“Doing good,” she whispered. The words echoed in her skull, dragging forth unwanted memories. Memories, and a younger, lighter voice that said those same words. “D-doing good.”

You’re doing good, sis. Come on, this way!

“Th-this way…” She walked forward, slowly, as the world changed. She was an itty-bitty, little-wittle Twinkie-Pinkie again, galloping on her tiny legs for the barn. She paused at the door and turned around to see another filly, just as tiny, approaching at a shuffle. “Marble…”

Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. I know Momma and Papa said we can’t go in, but it’s just gonna be for a second.

“No,” she whispered, watching as the ghostly filly approached. Marble paused to look back at the dark house through the night. “Don’t go in. P-please.” Fine watched her from a safe distance, solemn and patient.

Come on, Marble. Please? Limestone said this game’s a ton of fun, but she’s too big to play it with us.

Chewing on the tip of her hoof, Pinkie watched as the filly hesitated some more, but finally came closer.

Bouncing in place, Pinkie waited for her quiet twin to reach the threshold of the barn door before wrapping her in a hug. “Oh, thank you, thank you, sis! I promise, we’re gonna have so much fun. Come on.”

Momma and Papa always said little fillies couldn’t go into the barn. The last thing Pinkie wanted to do was make them angry, but what else was she supposed to do? Marble wouldn’t go far from the house. How was Pinkie going to get her to do things if she was so afraid of being outside? And the dark, which was admittedly a little scary. But if they went during the day they’d be caught, and then what? It had to be at night.

Once freed from Pinkie’s grasp, Marble stared at the ground. Or, more specifically, at the invisible line marking the boundaries of ‘inside’ and ‘outside’ the barn. Her little legs trembled.

“Don’t worry, Marble.” Pinkie nuzzled her, speaking in a whisper. “Momma and Papa won’t find out.” Violet eyes met hers, pleading. “We won’t get in trouble. I promise.”

Still, the filly hesitated. She glanced back at the house as if expecting their parents to be glaring at them through the windows. Finally, she dared to move one hoof into the barn. The moment it touched the ground, she pulled it back and jerked her head around to check the house once again. Seeing no looming threats of parental proportions, she tentatively walked all the way in.

“Good. You’re doing good, Marble.” Pinkie knew she had to keep being encouraging. She understood her sister’s fear, but this was for her sake. If she never left the house or their mother, when would she ever have fun? Marble needed to have fun, and Pinkie could only do so much in there. So she kept whispering encouragements. She kept pushing her sister to come outside and do things. And if that meant breaking Momma and Papa’s rules every now and then…

“Ooh, this is going to be so much fun! I mean, I haven’t played it before but Limestone says it’s fun but that might be just because she’s really good at it but hey, I bet you’ll be good at it too!” Pinkie bounced further into the barn. It was so very dark inside, but that was fine. She was fine. Giggle at the ghosties. They didn’t have to go far inside.

Limestone, Maud, and their parents would store geodes in the barn when they were ready for harvesting. Pinkie had watched them do it before. Tons of rocks that when busted contained shiny, glittery pretties. Or some just contained gems, which were also shiny and glittery and pretty, but not as neato as geodes. The nearest pile was like a pyramid, and perfect for her purposes.

She hopped onto the side of the pile and turned to grin at her gradually approaching sibling. “The game is ‘Princess of the Mountain’. Ponies try to get to the top. First pony to stay there for fifteen seconds wins. Fun!”

Marble came to a stop at the bottom of the pile, skepticism clear on her face. She tapped a hoof against a lone rock, which wobbled and fell from its perch. She shrank back at its sudden drop.

Pinkie giggled and hopped down to her sister’s side. “Don’t be scared. We’ll be fine! Let’s go.” She crawled up the pile of rocks, ignoring how they trembled under her weight. “Uh-oh, I’m getting a head start. I’m gonna wi~in!”

Marble watched her climb, then glanced back at the barn door.

Already a quarter of the way up, Pinkie turned to pout at the filly below. “Come on, Marble. Please?” When her sister failed to move, Pinkie climbed a little more. She was about halfway up the pile now. “Look, I’m getting closer! You don’t want to lose, right?”

When even this goading failed to achieve anything, Pinkie knew she was reaching the edge of Marble’s limits. She thought on a potential solution, looking between her twin and the top of the pile. “O~okay. I’m gonna sit down here.” She made a show of plopping her rump among the rocks, wiggling and squirming to get comfortable. A few more stones rolled down noisily. “Can you climb up here, Marble? Please? Just that much, and I promise we’ll go to bed.”

Marble squinted through the darkness. Her hooves remained firmly rooted to the ground.

“I’ll let you have my cupcake tomorrow.” Pinkie didn’t know if their mom was going to make cupcakes for dessert tomorrow, but that was beside the point.

Marble’s ears perked. Her eyes trailed up and down the pile of rocks. After a few seconds, during which Pinkie was struggling to think of something else to get her sister to do something new, the little grey filly finally started to climb. She moved with extreme slowness, picking her way up the pile one hoofstep at a time.

Pinkie felt her lips splitting into a grin. “That’s right, Marble. Come on, you can do it!” She kept cheering, keeping quiet only so as to keep anypony in the house from hearing her and waking up. Her little heart fluttered with pride as her sibling made her quiet, shaky way up the pile. After what seemed like an age, Marble at last reached her side. The filly, trembling and with eyes frequently darting to the barn door, forced herself to settle on her flanks in the rocks. A lone chunk the size of her hoof broke off and clattered its way to the bottom.

Pinkie gave her a tender, one-legged hug and spoke in a whisper. “You did it. Don’t you feel brave?”

Marble shook her head, ears flopped downwards and shoulders hunched.

“Well, you are. You’re a very brave Marble Pie. The bravest Pie of all.”

Though she continued to shiver, Marble managed a quivering smile and blushed.

“Think you could go more up?”

Marble’s eyes shot wide open and the shaking of her head this time was frantic.

Pinkie giggled and nodded. “Ready to come down?” At her sibling’s eager nodding, she stood up. “Okay. We’ll get all snuggly wuggly in our beds. Tomorrow you can have my cupcake. Sound good?” She offered her hoof to her twin, who regained her smile and took it. Pinkie Pie, feeling so very good about herself, took her first step down.

The rock she touched rolled away, and she fell forward with a yelp. She tried to find her hooves, but the rocks were starting to cascade in an avalanche and she couldn’t find a steady place to stand. She heard a weak cry and looked up to see Marble scrambling for purchase as more and more rocks collapsed from under them! Before Pinkie knew it, she was tumbling and rolling down the pile. Something heavy banged against the side of her head, and stars flashed in her vision. She landed on her stomach, hard. Before she could even think of trying to get up, rocks began to pile on top of her. A particularly heavy one smacked into the small of her back, knocking the air from her lungs.

She lay there, dazed and struggling to breathe. As the last of the rocks rolled to a stop, she began to take stock of her situation. Her body was weighed down by the heavy stones and her breathing came only with intense effort. It was as though somepony had put her chest in a vice! She tried to move, but only one foreleg was free from the pile and it wasn’t strong enough to pull her loose.

She was trapped. She could barely breathe. And deep down, Pinkie could feel the first inklings of fear rising up. She lifted her head, noticed the blood her cheek had left on the floor. Her heart thudded in her ears as she sucked down hard, working to get precious air into herself.

“M-Marble?” Her voice was weak. Why was her voice so weak? “Marble, help me.” Her eyes darted about the room, her head swiveled.

Her heart thrust its way into her throat.

Marble lay on her back not three feet away. The rocks were piled high on her all the way to her chest. Her tiny hooves kicked futilely against them as her jaw worked soundlessly. Wide purple eyes, shimmering with tears, met hers. Marble’s mouth worked with a silence that pierced Pinkie’s brain.

She forced air out of her lungs, ignoring the stinging needles in her chest as she did. “Marble. Marble. B-breathe.”

The little grey filly kicked at the stones, but they wouldn’t budge. She was just too small, and they were just so heavy. Pinkie reached for her, thinking maybe she could help, but her hoof couldn’t reach that far no matter how much she stretched. Marble’s mouth opened wide. It was silent, but Pinkie knew she had to be screaming.

Tears built in Pinkie’s eyes as she struggled. She pushed against the ground, but couldn’t pick herself up. She tried to knock the rocks off her back, but they remained rooted. She sucked in sharp breaths as Marble’s squirming grew more frantic.

“Help. Help. Momma. Papa. Maud, Limestone, somepony. Help.” Her cries were little more than a whisper, nowhere near enough to reach the farmhouse. Already she was too out of breath to keep trying. Pinkie brushed the tears from her eyes and struggled not to sob. Sobbing cost air. She needed air to call for help.

Marble’s head fell back. Her flailing slowed. She looked to Pinkie, her eyes pleading, her pupils so small. She reached for her elder twin. Pinkie reached back. Their hooves couldn’t quite touch. Pinkie pawed at the dirt, fighting for that last inch. “I’m sorry, Marble. I’m sorry. Please, breathe.”

Marble’s face was blue. Her eyes were rolling back. The hissing, straining sound that barely reached Pinkie’s ears was all she could muster.

“Breathe. Please, Marble. Breathe. You can do it. You can.”

Marble started to convulse. Pinkie sobbed and pulled at the dirt, knowing it was useless. If she could just touch her! But Marble wasn’t reaching for her anymore.

“Help us. Somepony, please. Momma.” Clenching her eyes closed, Pinkie focused on breathing. Short, quick breaths. Longer intakes. Quick outtakes. If she built up her air, maybe she could cry out properly. Maybe. All Marble needed was one good scream. She concentrated so hard, fighting through the daggers in her chest, clenching her leg close to herself. She could feel the pressure in her chest. She had enough, didn’t she? This would do it! She opened her mouth wide and let it all out in a single cry.

“Help us.”

And that was it. She let her cheek hit the ground, exhausted and blinded by tears. It was good enough, wasn’t it? It had sounded so quiet, but…but somepony had heard, hadn’t they? “Somepony’s coming. Okay? Marble, they…” She brushed her tears away and looked to her sibling.

Marble was still. Her wide eyes gazed at nothing. Her lips didn’t move.

“Marble?” Pinkie reached for her sibling. “Breathe. Marble? Sis?”

Marble remained still.

“S-stop it. It’s not funny.” A long, quiet silence. ”Marble?”

Why wasn’t she moving? Marble should be moving. Pinkie stretched her leg as far as she could, try to touch that unmoving hoof. But no matter how hard she tried, she just… couldn’t. Something cold and hard found its way into Pinkie’s guts. Slowly, she retracted her hoof. A heavy, unnatural wrongness swept over her.

Pinkie started kicking at the ground once more, her eyes going to the ceiling, the dirt, the barn door. Anywhere but the horribly still form of her sister. “Mommy? Help. P-please. Help Marble. Somepony. A-anypony…”

She kept calling. She kept crying. Even as her throat grew raw. Even as her eyes became sore from rubbing and her chest felt like it was on fire. She pleaded and begged and sobbed, but no matter what she did, the farmhouse remained dark. At last she let her cheek fall back to the ground, too tired and hurting to continue. She stared at Marble’s pale form. Marble stared right back with still, lifeless eyes.

A silence descended upon the barn, as heavy as the rocks weighing her down.

Gradually, the sights faded. The rock piles disappeared, mere fabrications of the mind, and the weight on her back was gone. Pinkie rubbed her eyes and looked to Marble, still but a little filly on the floor. Lifeless. Breathless. She waited for that image to fade, too.

It didn’t.

Pinkie’s ears perked. In her peripheral vision, she noticed Fine approaching, but she had no time for him now. Now there was only that tiny grey body, sitting alone in the dirt just like she’d been all that long, horrible night. Swallowing did nothing to ease her dry throat as she took a slow step closer to examine the body. Wide, sightless eyes gazed at nothing. “M… Marble?”

The eyes met hers.

Pinkie’s jaw opened wide, but nothing came out of her throat save a faint hiss. The filly on the ground stood up and began to grow. One leg morphed out to be hideously long, then her back twisted as the bones crackled and realigned themselves. Another leg. An ear exploded in size. The eyes, still wide, still empty of life, never left Pinkie’s as the misshapen creature turned to her.

Pinkie felt her bladder emptying. She retreated, knees knocking, head shaking, but couldn’t tear her eyes away from that pallid face. Her voice found its way out of her taut throat. “No. No no no.”

Another leg began to grow. The filly’s mane billowed out in a blast of hair and wind, falling down to cover Marble’s face. She opened her mouth, but only a frail whistling, barely enough to be audible, met Pinkie’s ears. With a final crack of growing bone and muscle, a full-sized mare of pale greys stood between Pinkie and the barn door.

She took a step closer.

Now Pinkie screamed. Ice filled her veins and her heart slammed into her throat. She flung herself back from the specter as it took yet another sharp, focused step. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Marble, please!”

Another step.

Pinkie’s flank hit the wall. She pressed tight against it and clenched her eyes shut. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to!”

“Pinkie!” She cracked her eye open as Fine stood beside her. Marble was still coming, her wide violet eyes just visible behind her loose-hanging mane. “It’s okay, Pinkie.”

“I killed her!” Clamping her eyes closed once more, Pinkie dropped to her knees and buried her face in her fetlocks. “I killed her and now she’s coming for me. I didn’t mean it, I didn’t. I swear I didn’t!”

“Pinkie, please…”

“I shouldn’t have made you come out that night! I only meant to help you. I was j-just trying to be a good sister!” She dared a peek through her tear-blurred eyes. The pale apparition was as clear as the full moon on a cloudless night, and still coming closer. She was only a dozen feet away. “I know it’s my fault. I know! I tried, sis, I tried so hard, but the rocks were so heavy and I-I just couldn’t. I couldn’t!” Another step. “M-Marble!”

“Pinkie,” Fine spoke into her ear, his voice soothing. “You were only a child.”

“That’s no excuse!” She shoved him away and turned to face Marble directly. “Is it, Marble? It’s no excuse! I should have realized how unstable it was, I should have let you go back to bed, I should have listened when Momma and Papa told us we couldn’t go into the barn, but I didn’t! I was a bad filly!”

Marble paused, her pale face only a foot away from Pinkie’s. Those wild, sightless eyes stared into Pinkie and left her feeling so horribly, distressingly small.

Pinkie trembled. Those hissing, raspy things weren’t breaths, but they were the only sound her dear sister could make. She rubbed her eyes and bowed her head, but couldn’t tear her gaze away from those violet orbs. “I w-was a bad filly, Marble. And you died. Because I was bad.” Dropping to her haunches, Pinkie sobbed. “And I kept being bad. I couldn’t stop. I wanted to, I wanted to so much. B-but I c-couldn’t stop. Why couldn’t I stop? M-Momma. Papa. Maud and L-Limestone. Surprise. I didn’t want to be a bad filly.”

Silence, as heavy as that terrible night. Not even the pained whistling of a desperate throat. Pinkie’s heart thudded, her breaths came slow and labored. She could feel the chill of her sister radiating against her flesh, sending goosebumps up and down her body. Her legs twitched, eager to get her out of this horrible, terrible place, but she fought them back. She wouldn’t run. She deserved whatever Marble intended to do to her.

“Pinkie Pie?”

Fine was there. At her side once more. He ignored Marble entirely. Pinkie, in turn, ignored him. She watched as her specter of a sibling closed her eyes in a slow blink. When they opened again, they were no longer the lifeless, cold things she’d come to know. They locked onto hers, alive and aware and thoughtful.

They were like beacons in the dark.

“Pinkie.” Fine’s leg wrapped around her shoulder. “Do you really think Marble hates you for what you did?”

“She does,” Pinkie whispered. “Don’t you, Marble?”

The spirit tilted her head quizzically.

“She’s your sister,” Fine whispered into her ear. “Family forgives.”

“Limestone didn’t.” Marble’s eyes narrowed. Pinkie flinched back. “She didn’t.”

“And what about Marble?” He pressed, ever gentle. “Was she the kind to hold a grudge?”

“We were three,” she hissed back. “We didn’t understand.” Marble moved closer. Pinkie’s breath caught in her throat as a wave of cold washed over her. “M-Marble, I…”

“Neither would you.”

“I knew you were dying! I should have known it was dangerous!”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I—”

“You were three.”

“I…”

Marble’s forehead touched Pinkie’s, sending ice coursing through her skull. Pinkie shivered as fog rose from her breath.

“Do you think you should be forgiven?”

Those purple pools were Pinkie’s entire world. “S-Sis?”

“Whose forgiveness do you really need?”

Her sibling’s hooves reached out, and Pinkie tensed up with a quiet cry. But they didn’t go for her throat, no. They went around her withers, pulling her in for a tight, frigid hug. For a time, Pinkie could only stare over her sibling’s shoulder and let the cold chill of death seep into her bones.

“Marble!” She wrapped the mare in an embrace and sobbed into her shoulder. “You were too good, always too good, and I’ll never ever in a million bajillion years be able to forgive myself for what I did to you. I’m sorry. I’d give up everything, parties and cake and laughter and joy. I’d get rid of it all if we could just trade places.”

She was hushed, gently, kindly. “It’s okay, Pinkie. Everything’s going to be okay.”

She sniffled in that cool, grey mane. “I don’t know how to be okay, Sis. I just don’t know.”

Slowly, the icy touch of Marble’s body faded. With every second that passed, Pinkie felt more and more warm. “It’s over now, Pinkie. You don’t have to punish yourself anymore.”

“B-but I… But I…!”

“Hush. None of that, now.”

As the frigidness shrank, she imagined it sinking deep within her. Merging with her soul. It felt so… good. Better than she deserved. She knew what it meant, knew it was not something that should be happening. “Marble…”

If her sister wanted this… “I’ll try. I Pinkie P-Promise, I’ll try. B-but it’s so hard.”

“That’s why you have me with you. Always. I’ll be here, Pinkie.”

And Pinkie believed it. She believed because she had faith in her little sister, and because she owed it to her. It was strange, how empty and full she felt at the same time, like her heart was going to explode then crash back into itself. It was utterly confusing, but she held on tight and trusted her sibling to see her through. Pressing her face against Marble’s neck, she wept.

Fine lay beside Pinkie, pressed tight against her as he brushed her mane. He’d been like this for almost two hours now, watching her sleep and listening to her quiet breaths. With no idea what he’d just witnessed, he’d held her until she’d fallen unconscious. The last few hours had been spent quietly contemplating his new marefriend.

So accustomed to the calm of the day, her abrupt awakening startled him. One second she was nuzzling his shoulder, the next she’d sat up and begun looking around as if expecting to see something. “M-Marble?”

“Nope.” He sat up and smiled at her wide-eyed stare. “Just me.”

A few seconds of owlish gazing later, Pinkie shook herself as if jarred by a static shock. Ears drooping, she set a hoof to her chest and stared at it. “Right. She’s… Right.”

He leaned a little closer, trying to catch her eye. “Are you alright?”

“I’m… I don’t know.” Lowering her hoof, she took a more measured look at her surroundings. “I think so. What happened?”

“Well…” He hesitated. The truth was that he didn’t know. “You started panicking. And talking. Then crying. Then you fell asleep.” At her nonplussed look, he shrugged. “You asked.”

“And Marble?” She cast another quick look around. “What happened to my sister?”

He set a hoof to her shoulder. “You’d know better than me. I think.”

Another doe-eyed stare. Then, gradually, a warm smile formed on her lips. She folded her forelegs to her chest and sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

A moment of quiet passed between them. Fine rubbed the back of his head, wondering if she was going to let him in on whatever she knew. When the silence started to get awkward—at least for him—he asked, “So… Gotta ask again. You alright?”

“No,” she replied, not losing her smile. “but I think I’m on my way.” She leaned forward and nuzzled him, her strawberry scent tickling his nostrils. “Thanks, Fine.”

He blinked, caught between enjoying her touch and trying to understand her words. “For what?”

“Everything. For just… being here.” She pulled away and stood. Once more, her eyes roamed the barn, but this time it appeared she was taking in the barn itself rather than looking for something specific. She stepped past him and wandered, occasionally pawing at the floor as if reminded of something. “You know, I never went in here after Marble… died.” Her face twisted into a grimace, but only for a second. “This is my first time getting a good look at it.”

He stood and followed her at a distance. “It doesn’t bother you, being here?”

“Not anymore. I mean, it’s still weird. And… kinda scary.” She turned to him, still possessing that little smile he liked so much. “My sister died here, y’know? And I had to…” The smile faded. Pinkie stared at her hooves. “I was stuck in here for the whole night with Marble’s dead body almost within hoof’s reach. A whole night. It w-was terrible. I didn’t sleep a wink. I couldn’t. And the nightmares… Oh, Fine, the nightmares were so bad.”

She sucked in a long, slow breath, closed her eyes, and raised her head high. When her eyes opened again, they were determined. “But Marble doesn’t want me to spend the rest of my life trapped in that night. So I’m going to try to move on. I don’t know why, but it doesn’t feel so…” She paused, working her lips. Her eyes lost their seriousness and went cross. “There’s a word. A big word. A Twilight Sparkle word. It means hard. In… Insulational?”

Fine couldn’t help but grin. “Insurmountable?”

She beamed. “Yeah, that’s the one! It doesn’t feel insurmountable anymore.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He stepped forward, then paused as he thought on her words. He frowned. “A ‘Twilight Sparkle’ word? Why couldn’t it be a ‘Fine Crime’ word? Or a ‘Verity Fine’ word?”

Pinkie giggled and booped his nose. “Sorry, Peepee. You might be a smart writer pony, but I think Twilight’s got a much bigger vocabulary. Heck, I bet she’s got several vocabularies. She’s vocabularitastic.”

He wrinkled his nose at her touch before rubbing his chin in thought. “Maybe I can challenge her somehow. Prove I’m the more vocabularistic pony.”

“Vocabularitastic,” she corrected primly. “And it’s not a competition, Verity.” Then she noticed his stare and began to fidget. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

He let his ears droop as he asked, “Is this a mask? Are you really feeling better, or are you just trying to make me think so?”

Her eyebrows shot up, but only for a moment. Her expression grew somber, even with the small smile. Nuzzling him gently, she replied, “I told you, no more masks. You get all of me. The whole package.”

“So you are feeling better? Truly?”

“I know it seems sudden,” she admitted, brushing her curls back bashfully. “But it’s real. I had a little talk with my sister, y’know? I might not be sunshine and rainbows yet, but rainbows won’t light up the sky unless you let it rain. I think my stormclouds are finally moving on. Though it’ll take a little more time for me to sort through all the feelings.”

Fine couldn’t describe the rising feeling in his chest. It was a little like that first night together, only without leaving him breathless and hot. He moved to stand beside her, pressing tight against her form and crossing his neck over hers. “I’ll be here to help wash away the puddles.”

She returned the pressure. “I know you will. That’s one of the reasons I love you; you’d never let anypony down.”

“Not if I can help it.” His ears perked to a familiar pattering sound. It came from the barn’s roof. A glance towards the door revealed a light rainfall. “You didn’t say your stormclouds were going to settle over the farm.”

“Oh, it’s raining!” Pinkie pulled away to trot for the door and watch the myriad drops form puddles on the hard earth. “Rain is a special thing on the farm, because it doesn’t happen a lot.” Her ears twitched and shifted in different directions for a few seconds. Fine watched them with a light smile; she had cute little ears.

Abruptly, Pinkie turned to grin at him. “Wanna play like an earth pony?”

Fine’s heart swelled at that grin. It was so wide and brilliant and Pinkie Pie. But more importantly, it was honest. He replied with a wry, “I’m not sure what you’re implying, but I might be willing to descend to the level of you mud ponies.”

“You say it that way, but us earth ponies know you boneheads can’t handle it,” she countered with no less sass. She reared back and kicked her legs playfully before spinning for the door. “Come on, it’ll be fun!” Without another word, she galloped into the rain. Laughing, Fine sped after her, letting the water wash over his face. Pinkie had a big lead, but she slowed to let him catch up, and soon she was guiding him on a long, circuitous route around the barren farm.

Every now and then, a pony just wanted to run. Fine had never been much for the sport, but he had to acknowledge a certain thrill in the energy coursing through his legs. The sound of the water splashing with every hoofstep, the rush of rain coating his body, his mane becoming tangled and messy. He pursued that lovely pink tail, snorting steam and reveling in her giggling laughter. He watched as, like a butterfly shedding its cocoon, Pinkie Pie became like a whole new mare. Here in this place with so many terrible memories, she was moving on. Legs covered in mud, soaked to the bone, Pinkie whooped with a fresh Joy he’d never seen in the mare. The wildness of her coat made her scars plain to see, decorating her body from head to tail as she splashed him and dodged his lunges.

She danced about with all the skills of a pegasus, avoiding his attempts to grab her in the mud. Every time his hooves landed on her, they slipped off as if she were made of water. She slapped his face with her tail, laughing the whole time, and taunted him with every failure. Fine couldn’t stop grinning, not sure why he felt a fire building within him. Nor did he care. There was something primal and relieving and wild in this simple, childish game, and the longer it went on the more eager he was to catch her.

Then, at last, a mistake! With a playful shriek, Pinkie toppled as her hooves slid out from under her just as she was trying to jump away. Never one to miss out on a golden opportunity when it was presented, Fine pounced. They tumbled and slid and wrestled, hooves slick with muck and water and the ever-driving rain, but at last, it ended. Fine stood over Pinkie, who lay on her back and stared up at him with a giddy grin. The two panted with the exertion as the world was drowned in the heavy beat of the rain all around. Mud coated them, a long streak of it set upon Pinkie’s muzzle and cheek, her curly mane splayed out wildly in the sludge.

In that moment of heat and noise and calm, heavy breaths, she was the loveliest thing Fine had ever laid eyes on.

Her eyelids lowered. One dirty hoof played across his chest, adding one more brown streak to his coat. “Oh, no. You got me. Just what do you plan on doing to me?”

His grin broadened. The heat picked up. With a shivering groan, he knelt down so they were almost muzzle to muzzle. “Naughty things.”

“I didn’t know you were into the whole mud thing,” she replied, no less sweetly. “First the young fillies, then cattle, now mud. You’ve got a dirty mind, Peepee.”

“I’ve only got a mind for one thing, and it is sweeter than candy.”

She threw a hoof dramatically over her forehead in a damsel-in-distress pose that would have made Rarity proud. “Oh, say it isn’t so! You studhandle a mare and then sweet-talk her into living out your wicked fantasies. I am but muddy in your hooves.”

He laughed and nuzzled her neck. “I think you mean putty.”

“No.” She slapped some mud right into his face with a giggle-snort. “I don’t.”

Laughing, paying no mind to the grit that was now in his mouth, he grabbed some mud and rubbed it in her mane. She squealed and retaliated in kind. They traded more muck, never pulling away as they lathered each other in the sticky, icky substance.

And then, somehow, they were kissing.

Fine lost track of things after that.

Author's Note

I questioned the wisdom of ending the chapter like this, but my thought is that Pinkie’s the type to jump into her newfound freedom with all four legs forward (or perhaps a canonball). Treading carefully is for boring ponies.

One more chapter, then an epilogue.

Day 14

Pinkie stared at herself in the mirror, taking a moment to brush back her curly mane. A deep breath. Another. Okay, Pinkie Pie, let’s see that smile.

It came smoothly, with only a minor effort. At first, it was tremulous. Uncertain. Then, gradually, it grew into a grin. Something warm and fuzzy floated up through her tummy and into her head. It tried to escape through her eyes as moisture, but she brushed it away with a hoof. To be able to smile without forcing it was a greater feeling than she could ever remember having short of Fine singing a song for her. She reached out to press her hoof against the bathroom mirror, smiling into her blue eyes. “It’s good to be me again.”

“They’re ready for you.”

Pinkie turned to Fine, who was watching her with his own subdued smile from the bathroom door. He was already wearing his panniers. “I guess it’s time, hmm?”

He nodded, stepping out to give her room. “We’ve got about an hour. Think it’ll be enough time?”

“It will.” She walked past, pausing only to give him a peck on the cheek. Her panniers rested on the bed, packed and ready. It took only a couple seconds to put them on. Shifting her weight around to test the balance, she decided it was good enough and nodded to him. “Ready.”

They left the room together, leaning against one another as they headed downstairs. In the inn’s main room sat some familiar faces around a couple of tables that had been pushed together. Petri Collate eagerly served one of his new breakfast soups to the ponies. Scilly sat at the end of one table, Cotton and PS settled on either side of her. They waved amiably as the two newcomers sat, Pinkie settling opposite Scilly and Fine next to Cotton. Cotton promptly produced a book and, with nothing more than a glance between them, Fine dutifully signed it. The mare hugged the book to her chest with a squee and carefully slipped it into her nearby bags.

The Rock Bottom Inn’s owner finished serving the last bowl, then hesitated. He cast a glance at Pinkie, who sat up straight and pointed at the remaining seat by PS with a commanding look. Petri hesitated only a second longer before settling on the appointed cushion.

Pinkie wasted no time, though her words were subdued. “We, um, we’re heading back to Ponyville today. I know I didn’t say goodbye properly before, and I wanted to do it right this time.” She stalled, not sure what else to say. Goodbyes had never been hard before. She tried to meet the gaze of any one of her friends, but a sick feeling made her fail every time.

“And we’re glad to hear it,” PS said when she’d been quiet too long. “Pretty sure Scilly would have called her connections in the railroad to make the train turn around and bring you back.”

Scilly raised her head in a prim pose. “I’d do it, too.”

Smiling at their antics, Pinkie at last managed to look them in the eyes, one at a time. “And you’d be right to. You’re all my friends, and you deserve better than that.” Noting Petri’s hunched posture, she reached over to touch his foreleg. “You too, Petri. Don’t think I’m letting you off the friendship hook.”

“She really does have a hook,” Fine warned in a conspiratorial whisper everypony at the table could hear. “She’s not gentle with it.”

Scilly rested her chin on her fetlock and smirked at him. “Speaking from experience?”

“Yes.”

Chuckles filled the air, and Pinkie couldn’t resist joining them. “He was a tough case. Still a work in progress. But once Fluttershy got him straightened up a bit, finishing the job wasn’t all that hard.”

Fine raised an eyebrow with an amused smile. “You make me sound like a dog in need of training.”

“I think you mean ‘taming’,” Cotton threw in pleasantly, dodging his glance by focusing on her soup.

“Woof, woof,” PS added with a smarmy grin.

Pinkie leaned towards Fine but tilted her head away, eyes on the ceiling and masking her amusement with the best innocent look she could manage. “If you’re a good puppy, you’ll get a treat on the way home,” she said in a sing-song voice.

“Will it taste like bubblegum and smell like strawberries?”

Heat bloomed in her face, and only intensified with the laughter and whistles from the rest of the table. None of it could chip away at her grin. “Only if you’re really good.”

As the giggles and cat-calls went on, Fine took on a dopey expression, settled into his cushion, sat at attention, and gave an obedient “woof.”

Upon recovering from her giggles, Scilly said, “Can I borrow him someday? Fine would make a good demonstration to my husband and kids how a ‘proper’ coltfriend behaves.”

Pinkie returned the grin. “Maybe, but I charge by the hour.”

Once the laughter subsided, they all focused on their food. The breakfast soup didn’t last long, and Petri happily grabbed seconds for Pinkie, PS, and Scilly. Pinkie almost couldn’t believe how quickly the time passed. It was nice, being with her old friends. She couldn’t wait to find the right excuse to get them to Ponyville for a day or two. She shared banter with Scilly while PS and Petri discussed cooking techniques. On the quieter side of the table, Cotton and Fine were discussing literary classics. Everything was flowing nicely. It felt… normal. Like any casual meetup with her friends in Ponyville, only now without having to force her smiles when the conversations lagged. There was no subtle unease at knowing she was wearing a mask while they could all be open with her. It was invigorating, and Pinkie dove into the simple pleasure with aplomb.

Alas, it could not last forever. “I hate to cut this short,” Fine said, rapping his hoof on the table lightly, “but we have a train to catch.”

With a whine and a pout, Pinkie nodded. “Right. No more putting it off, then.” She reached into her mane and produced four letters. She tossed them into the air, and each landed on the table before one of her friends. “Those are for you guys. Please don’t open them ‘till we’re gone.”

PS lifted his up to examine both sides. “What are they?”

“Letters, silly. What else?” Getting to her hooves, Pinkie slipped her panniers back on. “Oh, and my address in Ponyville. If you ever need a Professional Party Pony, you know who to call.”

Fine was already on his hooves and ready to go. “And, you know, if you just want to write, that’s good too. I promise, Pinkie won’t—” He rocked back as Cotton gave him a pouncing hug, eyebrows shooting up. “—mind?”

“Oi,” Pinkie said with a playful shake of her hoof, “that’s my cuddle buddy! Get your own.” She then promptly hugged Petri as he was getting off his cushion. The two stallions shared wide-eyed expressions, as if each were asking the other ‘Is this okay?’

“Thanks for putting up with us,” Pinkie told Petri as she parted with him. “I know I can be a hooffull sometimes. Fine and me together can be a nightmare for some ponies.”

He recovered quickly, giving her a grin and a hoofbump. “Are you kidding? You two were so good for business, I’ll let you stay on the house anytime. It was nice having a certified Party Pony staying here.”

“And when we do come back, I’ll be off this soup diet,” she added, slowly licking her lips as she imagined all the tasty treats in her near future. “You’d better stock up on sugar and flour.”

PS walked up to her at that moment and gave her a tight hug. Not Pinkie-Pie-tight, but pretty good for anypony not her. “It’s good to know you’re getting better, Pinkie. Real good. I’m glad you came back.”

“Me too.” And she found she meant it. This trip didn’t go quite like she’d anticipated, but she couldn’t help thinking it had all turned out for the best. “I promise not to take so long to come visit this time.”

“You’d better,” Scilly snapped, stealing Pinkie from PS’s hooves to give her own, significantly stronger squeeze. “Don’t make me book you for a birthday party just to get you back here.”

Pinkie tilted her head back and raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t your birthday in three weeks?”

Scilly blinked, then shrugged. “I meant my kids’ birthdays, but yes. Yes, it is. I’m amazed you remember that.”

“Don’t be,” Fine called from across the table, interrupting his own goodbyes with Petri. “Pinkie Pie never forgets a birthday. Never.”

Pinkie winced at that. “Remind me to tell you about this stallion who played the blues.” She brought her attention back to Scilly. “I’ll come visit you after you come visit me. It’s your turn, sister!”

“Ponyville, huh?” Scilly shrugged with a smile. “Sure, why not? It’s only the most ridiculously named town in all of Equestria. I think I can tolerate it.”

“If I can take it, so can you.” With that, Pinkie turned to the last of her friends. Cotton stood at the table’s corner, watching Pinkie approach with a warm smile. “Cotton, I’m serving you notice: you are not allowed to steal my stallion, no matter how good a writerpony he is.”

Cotton heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Just my luck, all the good ones are taken. Guess I’ll be stuck minding my own business, living a carefree life as a bachelorette with no responsibilities to anypony but myself. Oh, the horror.”

Giggling, Pinkie caught the mare in a hug. “Having a special somepony’s not so bad. You should try it sometime.”

Her friend hummed, then whispered in her ear, “How much are you charging by the hour again?”

Pinkie shoved her away playfully. “Oh, you!”

The two shared a laugh, but sobered quickly. Cotton regained that calm, knowing gaze and looked towards Fine, who was talking to Scilly and PS at the same time. “He really is good for you. I’m glad you found him. I think you needed a pony like that in your life.”

Following her gaze, Pinkie recalled all the little moments she and Fine had shared together. The bad moments. The good ones. The confusing and anxious and scary ones. She ran a hoof along the scar on her chest and smiled. “Yeah…

“I think so, too.”

They settled in their seat. Unlike the ride to Rockstead, this time they shared a bench. Fine even paid for his ticket this time. Pinkie had the window, but she kept nestled against Fine’s side as she waved to her friends. Fine watched her, ready for any potential crash that might come. Of course, he hoped there wouldn’t be one, but it paid to be prepared.

With a blast of the horn and a lurch, the train started forward. Fine leaned back, one arm around Pinkie’s withers. She continued to stare out the window, her smile wistful, then fading. What was she thinking? He hoped the thoughts weren’t too negative. They’d done some good for themselves, but it would all be pointless if Pinkie didn’t get the closing she deserved. A ball of ice formed in his stomach as he studied her quiet, solemn reflection in the window.

Pinkie pressed her hoof to the window and smiled. “Goodbye, Maud. Goodbye, Mom and Dad. Goodbye Limestone. Goodbye Surprise.” After a few seconds of quiet staring at the passing trees, she finally leaned back, nestling herself to Fine and humming.

He gave her a light squeeze, wondering if the question on his mind was appropriate. But… no masks, right? “What about Marble?”

Her eyes met his, then dropped back down. She ran her hooftip idly on the seat. “She’s with me now. I think she’ll be happier that way.”

Fine wasn’t sure he understood, but he didn’t have to. If Pinkie was satisfied, then it was enough. But was it? “You think you’ll be okay now?”

“Yes.” She answered smoothly, without hesitation, but also without a show of confidence. A plain, simple, direct response. “It might take me some time to adjust, but I think I’ll be right as rain soon. Thank you, Fine.”

He almost asked ‘for what?’, but realized he already had a good idea. Nuzzling into her mane, he took in the scent of strawberries and relaxed. “I was glad to help.”

They went quiet for a time, swaying with the train’s rhythmic motions. Fine couldn’t stop smiling. His thoughts drifted to that moment of hesitation and fear, standing with Octavia and watching as Pinkie got on the train. He’d been so clueless. Back then, the prospect of being with Pinkie had seemed a herculean mystery, a twisting road of unknowns and potential pitfalls. How close had he come to backing out of this in the preceding months? Closer than he cared to admit.

His hoof traced along her side, feeling at the scars. His scars. The ones that made him feel so guilty. And yet, when his hoof brushed across them, Pinkie didn’t flinch. She cast him a smile, demure and all the more beautiful for it. It spoke of trust, of appreciation, of a certain quiet acceptance. When she tucked her muzzle up against his neck, the guilt faded away in a sea of contentment.

A future with Pinkie Pie didn’t seem so strange anymore. If anything, it felt as though all the stumbles and missteps were leading him up to this moment of peace, a peace that she had given him and he hoped he granted her. He understood, without having to consider it, that this was right. That this would work. That their two souls, marred by respective pains and scars and fears, had collided for a reason. They fit. Oh, so wonderfully. Oh, so perfectly.

They fit.

“Pinkie?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you like to hear another song?”

Author's Note

Epilogue releases tomorrow, folks.

Epilogue

There came a knock on the frame of Pinkie’s bedroom door. She turned from the mirror to see Fine standing there, watching her with a calm confidence. “You ready?”

She looked in the mirror again. Her mane fell straight today. It was an intentional decision. Her friends knew to judge her mood by her manestyle, and this time she wanted them to know from the start that she hadn’t invited them here to discuss a party. “Do you think they’ll take it well?”

Fine stepped into the room to stand at her side, his rosewood eyes meeting her sapphire blues through the mirror. He nuzzled her just beneath the ear, giving it the faintest nip. “They’ll be surprised, I’m sure. But they were willing to accept me, and you have a supreme advantage over me.” At her querying look he added, “They actually like you.”

She turned her head to look up at him properly with an expression half-lecturing and half-amused. “They like you, silly. You’re just weird.”

“Huh. I suppose I am.” He turned his eyes away and scratched at his chin in a manner of faux-thoughtfulness. “And you’re dating me. Wonder what that says about you?”

“That you’re the right kind of weird,” she replied primly, facing the mirror once more. She tried to hold on to that confidence their banter had given her, but it flowed out like air from a balloon. She stared at the floor, at her legs that felt like lead. “Can I do this?”

He nuzzled her yet again, his touch gentle and reassuring. “You know you can.”

She leaned into him, burying her face in his shoulder. “What if they hate me?”

“I think you know they won’t.” When she said nothing to this, he wrapped a leg about her withers and started to hum. “You’re in my heart, you’re in my soul…”

He sang a few verses, rocking gently back and forth. She swayed with him, letting the words seep into her heart and still the waves of her emotions. What had threatened to be a storm grew into a calm, if overcast day. After a while, she stood up on her own once more and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you. I think I’m ready.”

With that reassuring smile that melted her heart, Fine guided her silently out the door and down the stairs. Each step sounded loud to her ears, a drumbeat in the cavernous quiet. She could hear her friends conversing pleasantly in Sugarcube Corner’s dining room. It was almost enough to make her lock up, but Fine gave her a fresh squeeze and she found the courage to take those last few steps.

All went quiet. They all stared at her, clearly realizing that this wasn’t a mere social visit. Twilight, freshly returned from her work in Canterlot, shared fretful glances with Rarity and Applejack. Rainbow hovered over a table, a half-eaten cupcake in her hooves as her eyes flicked between Pinkie and Fine like she was unsure who she should be focusing on. Fluttershy stood up from the table beneath Rainbow, apparently to approach, but hesitated when Fine waved her back. Mr. and Mrs. Cake sat behind the counter, holding hooves and clearly trying not to look as worried as they obviously were. Her best friends, her family, all here to listen to what she had to say.

It was too much. She pressed against Fine, letting her mane fall before one eye and hoping she could hide from their stares. He ran his hoof along her neck in that way she liked and whispered in her ear. “It’s okay, Pinkie. It’s going to be fine.”

“Pinkie Pie?” Rainbow moved just a little closer. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t, not yet. She let Fine coo in her ear and sooth the anxiety from her system with his caressing touch. Her friends whispered among one another, and she folded her ears back to guard against the sounds. With slow, heavy breaths, she fought back the ball of sickness in her guts. She called on everypony within, the Pinkies and the Rarities and the Fluttershies, but they struggled to keep it down. At this rate she would surely fail. She couldn’t fail. This needed to happen. She’d promised it would happen. Fine trusted her, she couldn’t screw this up!

And then, She was there. All the struggling and fighting to regain control ended as every pony on Pinkie’s mental highway parted for Her. Marble Pie looked at the hideous wreck that was Pinkie’s courage and, with but a smile, loosened every ugly knot. She made it look effortless. And once the mass of nastiness was untangled, she met Pinkie Pie’s startled look with a proffered hoof and an expression of warmth.

Pinkie raised her head, smiling as she whispered a quiet thanks. Looking to Fine, she gave him a little peck on the neck and nodded before allowing herself to stand on her own. She walked into the dining room proper, her gaze meeting each of her friends’ eyes one at a time. “I’m sorry for worrying everypony, but I’m ready now. Everyone got their cupcakes? Comfortable? This is gonna take a while, and I’d really appreciate not having many interruptions, so it’s important to have everything you need.”

Fluttershy took a cautious step forward, her head low. “Are you alright?” The same question burned in the eyes of every one of her friends.

Licking her lips, Pinkie nodded. “I’m better than I’ve been in a very long time.” She gestured Rainbow back, and the pegasus reluctantly returned to her seat. At a long, reassuring look from Pinkie, Fluttershy did the same.

Fine appeared, setting down a cushion from upstairs for Pinkie to use. She just barely heard Rarity’s pleased muttering of “Such a gentlecolt.” Sitting on the cushion with an appreciative smile, she waved Fine back. She wanted to try to get as far along with this as she could without him. Not that she didn’t expect him to come swooping in when things got… hard.

Clearing her throat, she finally focused on addressing everyone in the room. “Thank you for coming, everypony. You’re all my bestest best friends… and family.” That last bit with a smile to the Cakes, who returned it affectionately. It gave her an extra dash of courage, more than enough to get started with this. “But I’ve been keeping a secret from all of you, and it’s long past time I ponied up. I… I know it may sound unbelievable and horrible, but I swear to you that everything I’m about to tell you is true.”

She paused, expecting some kind of interruption. There was none, and for that she was glad. She allowed herself one last opportunity to consider what she was about to do. One more chance to back out. But they were all here, she had Fine’s support, and deep within, she could feel Marble’s silent encouragement. It was finally time. She raised her head, sucked in a deep breathe, and began.

“When I was three years old, my twin sister Marble and I snuck out of bed to play in the barn.”

Author's Note

And so it finally ends. Two-and-a-half years is way too long for a writing project, so I am certainly glad it’s over. A warmhearted thanks to Grand_Moff_Pony, who stuck with me as pre-reader from beginning to end and always being encouraging. Thanks also to the few of you who finished this story. I know it’s been an agonizingly long wait.

Before anyone asks, I do have plans for more No Heroes stories. Plans, but not any concrete expectations. I’ll be honest: I don’t know if I will be continuing this series. I had at least three more stories planned, but with all my other projects and a need to start branching into original fiction I just can’t guarantee I’ll get back to it. Which is a shame, because I love these characters so much. Still, maybe someday I will return to No Heroes to explore the next phase of the story. I hope so, at least.

On a side note: I chose Collide to be the story’s theme song, but that wasn’t the first song I wanted. I only went with Collide after realizing how much more suitable it was. But the song that I started with was still a nice choice, so I figure I’ll throw it on here just for the acknowledgement:

00 - Introduction

Slam!

The scrolls once held high in Fine Crime’s red magic dropped onto his head in a cascade of paper. It took him a moment to realize that the interruption had come from his front door. Grumbling to himself, he picked up the mess and deposited the scrolls neatly on his desk. Already he could hear the recognizable voice of somepony shouting for him. With a scowl, he lit up his horn and, in a wave of black smoke, teleported out of his office. That done, he turned and marched down the long hallway, following the shouts.

He stepped out onto the balcony over the main entrance of his home, a massive room of wood paneling, soft carpet and two grand staircases that led up to his level. The front doors stood wide open, letting in the warm spring breeze. The intruder was nowhere to be seen… at first.

A rainbow flew across the bottom floor, then took a sharp turn to fly right at him! In an instant Rainbow Dash was hovering just off the balcony in front of him. “There you are.”

Fine glowered at her. “Rainbow, I know I said it’s alright for my friends to visit, even unannounced, but the least you could have done was knocked.”

She shook a hoof at him. “Don’t change the subject!” Fine was sorely tempted to point out her mistake, but she continued before he could put action to his thoughts. “What’s this I hear about you and Pinkie going on vacation together?”

The counter died on his lips. “You didn’t know about that? We’ve been planning it for three months.”

“How am I supposed to know about it if neither of you tell me?”

Pinkie never told her? Fine stared at Rainbow, trying to take this news in. How could Pinkie not have told her friends? Of course he hadn’t said anything, but he’d assumed she would. Indeed, how could she not? Pinkie told her friends just about everything.

“Oi!” Rainbow waved a hoof in his face. “You gonna answer me or gape like a fish?”

He shook himself out of the stupor. “She really didn’t tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.” Landing next to him on the balcony, she studied him with a peering gaze. “And that worries me. Pinkie tells me everything! So I wanna know what’s going on.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you came all the way out here to ask me instead of her?”

“I did ask her.” Rainbow’s wings rustled as she maintained her accusing expression. “She clammed up, which isn’t like her at all. I’m not gonna press her, ‘cause she looked scared, but that don’t mean I won’t squeeze the truth out of you. Now what did you do?”

Worry ate at Fine’s gut, made all the worse by the fact that he could do nothing about it. Pinkie had been similarly quiet around him when he first asked what she intended to do on their trip. Like Rainbow, he’d decided not to pester her out of respect. But to have not told anypony about the trip at all?

Rainbow shoved him backwards, derailing his train of thought. “Hey, I’m talking to you here! What did you do to make Pinkie sad?”

“Why would I make Pinkie sad?” He swatted her hooves away and shook his head. “Come on, Rainbow. I wouldn’t hurt Pinkie.”

“Oh, yeah?” Her eyes narrowed once more as she took a step closer. “You forget her scars?”

Ice grew around Fine’s heart. Unable to meet her gaze, he turned his attention to the floor. “That was… I m-mean…” He closed his eyes tight. It had been months since Tidal, but sometimes he could still hear the screams.

Rainbow took a quick step back. “Aw, crud, I’m sorry. Seriously. That was a low blow, wasn’t it?”

He took a long, slow breath. “No. I… I did it. You’re right. I’ll never be sorry enough.”

“I didn’t mean to—” She emitted a soft growl. “Dang it, this went way off the rails. Look, forget what I said, okay?”

Forget? How could he forget? But Fine knew better than to speak his mind. Rainbow felt bad enough as it was, and she didn’t need to know that he still… sometimes…

He nodded, but couldn’t meet her gaze.

Rainbow sat heavily and turned to the balcony. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. Again. It’s just that… Pinkie’s one of my best friends. She’s scared, and that makes me scared.” When Fine said nothing, she quietly asked, “Did she mention she confessed to me in Tidal?”

He blinked and finally raised his head to look at her. Rainbow’s ears had tucked back and her wings slumped almost to the floor. He cocked his head at this unexpected behavior. “She did?”

She waved her hooves limply at the air as if she had a griffon’s claws and was trying to grasp something. “Right after you got all freaky.”

“Oh.” He fidgeted, hoof pawing at the floor. “Did she… say why?”

Her ears perked, and when she raised her head Rainbow’s eyes were slightly crossed. “Um… yes and no? Something to do with the old crystal mines beneath Canterlot and something you did together down there.”

Nothing he hadn’t heard before, then. Fine sighed and rested his chin on the guardrail. “I just don’t understand. Mares don’t like me, so why does Pinkie?”

“If I could answer that, I’d expect to get a ‘smart pony’ award in recognition for my brilliance.” Rainbow paused, then winced. “Eh, no offense?”

He waved a dismissive hoof. “None taken.”

Scooting a little closer, Rainbow settled her head on the rail next to his, and they sighed in unison. After a moment’s quiet, she said, “Look at it from my position, okay? I think I know Pinkie better than any of our friends. No boast. She can do some crazy things, and she can be pretty brave when she has to. But I’ve also seen her at her worst. She’s a lot more fragile than most ponies think.” Tilting her head Fine’s way, she watched him with one eye. “I worry you’re gonna hurt her the same way Fluttershy hurt you.”

No question, that was a legitimate concern. Fine had long gotten over Fluttershy’s rejection, but that first month afterwards had been terrible. He’d firmly avoided leaving his house for a while, save to visit Pinkie. He couldn’t not visit her, not after what he’d done. But he’d always done it carefully, ensuring he’d not be seen by anypony outside of Sugarcube Corner. Especially Fluttershy.

Fine had read about such things in books. Rejection, breakups, things of that nature. He’d always thought those scenes melodramatic and overdone. How painful could it really be for a mare you liked to turn you away? It seemed ridiculous. Now that he’d experienced it, however… Well, he appreciated those scenes a lot more now.

He pulled himself into a proper upright position, stretching his neck as he did. “I don’t know what’s going to happen on this little trip, Rainbow. I’m the one who suggested it, but it’s going to be her show. There are things that… we need to discuss.” He pursed his lips and considered his words. Feeling helpless, he turned to her and concluded, “We’re not gonna be there to have fun.”

“Meeting the family.” Rainbow stood up and gave him a long, thoughtful look. “Yeah, I guess not.”

Fine pawed the floor once more. “What do you know about them?”

She shuffled from side to side, her wings ruffling in an anxious display. “Pinkie’s told me stories. But… just stories. I never once heard her say what anypony in her family has been doing since she moved to Ponyville.” She chewed her lip before adding, “That worries me, too.”

Fine grimaced and looked to the open doors.

“Yeah. That makes two of us.”

If Pinkie could define how she felt right now, her word choice would probably give an etymologist a hernia. After much self-debate that lasted the entirety of her bouncing journey across Ponyville, she finally gave up and settled on “terrifanxifused,” but only because it had been the last thing to come to mind before she reached her destination. Now that she’d landed at the doorstep, however, the usual energy left her. Her reason for being here made her insides all squirmy, and she still couldn’t figure out if the feeling was a good one or not.

Somehow, she suspected this was a “not” situation. Even so, she hurried to knock on the door before the annoying voices in her head stopped arguing with one another and made her leave. Why couldn’t those voices ever get along? She immediately regretted asking the question, because they promptly turned on her.

What, me, get along with Miss Hidey McScaredy?

B-but what if Fine doesn’t like it?

Buck up, Pinkie! Fine will love it!

But what if he doesn’t?

Well, it’s not the end of the world.

It sure feels like it’ll be the end of the world! And I don’t wanna be responsible for that.

Before she could get between the two and call for a time out, the door opened. Rather than the face she expected, though, Pinkie had to look down. “Hi, Sweetie Belle.”

Sweetie grinned up at Pinkie, brushing her mane out of her eyes as she did. It had grown a bit longer in the last few months, and Pinkie couldn’t help being a tiny bit jealous at that. She instinctively reached up to touch her own mane, which had yet to reach its former length from before her fight with… She shivered and shoved that thought aside, the two voices in her head more than happy to lend a hoof in the endeavor.

“Morning, Pinkie Pie. Here to see Rarity? Oh!” She gave a little bounce, her legs kicking at the air. “I bet you’re here about your dress for Nye and Rainbow’s wedding! It’s gonna be amazing!”

Pinkie gave a “tut-tut” and pressed a hoof to the filly’s muzzle, taking on a haughty tone. “Now, Sweetie Belle, you know that’s no way to talk.” She let the words sink in as Sweetie’s eyes crossed and her head cocked sideways. “Any wedding involving Rainbow isn’t going to be ‘amazing,’ it’s going to be…”

They grinned at once and shouted in unison, “Awesome!”

Pinkie gave a confident nod. “I am 120% confident that’s the only word Rainbow wants associated with her wedding.”

“You are so right,” Sweetie Belle said with a grin. “What the hay was I thinking?”

“That you need to get to school?” Rarity appeared in the doorway, dropping Sweetie’s book-filled saddle on her back without ceremony. The filly lost her breath as the weight made her knees buckle, but she recovered admirably. “Go on now. And remember, Mother intends to meet you at the schoolhouse.”

“Got it: Mom, schoolhouse.” Sweetie saluted before running off. “See you later, Pinkie!”

“Have a good day!” Rarity waved to her before turning to Pinkie, whose voices had decided to go completely silent at the sight of her. “Good morning, Pinkie. I must admit, I’m surprised to see you here so early. Would you like some break—” She paused, a hoof rushing to her lips and her eyes widening. “Oh, dear. You’re still stuck on soups, aren’t you? I’m so sorry.”

Pinkie winced, but managed to keep from rubbing the scar on her belly. At least her coat had grown thick enough to make the old injuries invisible to the casual eye, but the forced diet of soups and other liquids had brought her weight down significantly. A sad reminder of the lack of sweets in her life these days. “It’s alright. If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to eat proper foods next month. I am going to have so many cupcakes!” Her mouth watered just from the thought of it. “I miss cupcakes so much, it’s like I’ve only ever had them in my dreams. Do you know what it’s like to have gone so long without something you can’t remember what it was like in the first place? Do you? Do you?”

Her muzzle pressed against Rarity’s, while her were eyes wide and twitching. Rarity forced out a laugh and stepped back. “N-not sure that I have.”

“Well, let me tell you—” Pinkie stepped back and threw her hooves high in the air, flopping onto her back in the progress. “—it’s terrible!”

“Quite.” Rarity recovered from her moment of uncertainty with her classic, charming smile. “So, what brings you to my humble boutique?” As an afterthought, she added, “Tea?”

Pinkie rolled to her hooves with a sigh. “Yeah, tea would be nice, thanks.” As she followed Rarity into the boutique, she felt her hooves grow heavier. Which was silly, because they didn’t look any bigger. The purpose of her visit danced at the tip of her tongue, but dancing was not diving, and she really needed the words to dive off. As the voices in her head tried to pressure her into speaking or not speaking, she sat at Rarity’s kitchen table with a sigh.

Seconds passed as the war in her head continued. The idea was dumb, it would never work. But she had to try, right? No, she’d just be wasting Rarity’s time. Then again, Rarity would never consider something like this a waste. A challenge, for sure, but not a waste. Even if failure was… inevitable.

It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Pinkie stared at her hooves, trying not to wonder how that squid had gotten all tangled up in her insides. She didn’t like him being there. The voices agreed for a change. This was the opposite of fun. Maybe she should just—

A glowing cup of tea landed before her on the table, interrupting her meandering thoughts. “Bit for your thoughts?” Rarity asked.

Not quite the right question. Pinkie opened her mouth to respond, but all she managed was air. She cringed and took the teacup in her hooves. Maybe the heat would loosen those words so they’d stop dancing on her tongue and actually leave her mouth. She raised the cup to her lips.

“Pinkie, wait—!”

The tea scalded and Pinkie quickly pulled back. She grimaced and set the cup down before rubbing her tender mouth. “Owie.”

Rarity leaned across the table, levitating a napkin to brush at Pinkie’s lips. “Oh, dear, are you alright?”

There was a proper answer to that question. An easy answer. An answer that would be expected, comfort her friend and settle the matter entirely.

“Can you make me a new dress within the next four days?”

That was not the proper answer. Pinkie cringed and turned away from Rarity, hiding her face behind her hoof.

“A dress?” Rarity asked after a pause. “I don’t understand. I’ve finished your dress for the wedding, and you still have your dress from the Gala.”

Oh frumple, the words were gonna come out all on their own now, weren’t they? Bracing for disappointment, her voice low, Pinkie sat by helplessly as they went on without her. “Those are… they’re nice, but they’re… fun. I don’t want a fun dress.”

Rarity’s second silence went for much longer. When she spoke again, it was with hesitation. “Okay, not a ‘fun’ dress. I admit to being perplexed. ‘Fun’ defines the entirety of your fashion sense. If you’re not looking for something ‘fun,’ then what are you looking for?”

She bit her burned lip, trying to keep the words from escaping. This was such a horrible, terrible, stupidumb idea and she never should have come here! Rarity would laugh and then she’d— “C-can you make me look…” No, no, don’t say it!

“…p-pretty?”

Rarity’s teacup came to a stop right before her lips as her eyes took on a glazed quality. Pinkie let her mane fall, glad it was just long enough to hide her burning face. Despite the empty feeling in her stomach and both little Pinkies in the back of her mind shaking their heads frantically, she couldn’t resist peeking through her locks.

Rarity blinked, her gaze steadily refocusing on her. “I… Pardon me, darling, I seem to have suffered from a bit of a daydream. How woefully disrespectful of me, but it shan’t happen again. So. Could you repeat that?”

Flinching, Pinkie leaned back from the table. She turned her face away, using her mane to fully hide from Rarity's gaze. Oh, why did Rarity have to act like that? Saying it once had been a… a mistake. Yes, a mistake. She should just— “I should just go.”

She got three steps before Rarity was in her face, holding her at arm’s length. Eyes wide and voice faint, Rarity asked, “Wait, you mean I wasn’t daydreaming? You really asked me to help you look pretty?”

Pinkie squirmed, but couldn’t escape her friend’s hold on her shoulders. “I… It was a mistake. I know it’s impossible, a-and… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m wasting your time and you probably think I’m being silly and you’re right because I feel like the dumbest dummy that ever dumbed up anything and I’ll never ask again and—”

Her apologetic rant was drowned out by something between a squeal and a laugh. Rarity’s mouth opened in a grin Pinkie wasn’t quite sure she’d ever seen on the mare. With stars shining in her eyes, Rarity squeezed Pinkie in a hug so tight she lost breath. “Oh, darling, this is fantastic! Of all my friends who might finally ask this of me, I never imagined it would be you. We have to get started on the design right away. I’ll need details; something saucy or more innocent? Canterlot sleek or Prance oh-la-la or maybe Manehattan traditional?”

Pinkie was on the highway of her mind again, but where that highway normally filled up with mini-Pinkies vying for her attention, she found herself stuck in some alternate universe where the roads were clogged with mini-Rarities all driving in a million directions, shouting over one another and honking their horns and not doing a good job at all of obeying the rules of the road. Totally lost in this unfamiliar territory, she had no other option but to take the first escape she could, which was the exit of—

“I’m confused.”

Rarity’s rant came to a screeching halt – at least it screeched in Pinkie’s head – as she took in her face. “Oh, my. Whatever is the matter?”

“Y-you mean…” Pinkie licked her dry, sore lips. She searched her friend’s eyes for some sign of doubt or deception. “You mean you can do it?”

“Oh, don’t be silly, darling. Of course I can!”

She looked perfectly serious. The square peg of her confidence tried to press into the round hole that was Pinkie’s comprehension, with predictable results. “B-but how? I’m not pretty. I’m not attractive at all. How could you possibly make a pony like me—”

“Pish-posh.” An immaculate white hoof wagged between them. “None of that, now. Every mare is perfectly capable of being beautiful, and you are no exception. Wherever did you get this silly idea that you aren’t pretty?”

Once more, Pinkie hunched back and averted her gaze. “If I were pretty, wouldn’t a stallion have asked me out by now? I’ve never… so I must not be…”

At first, Rarity’s appeared alarmed, then sad. She recovered quickly, however, setting her jaw and straightening her shoulders. “Well, have you ever tried to be attractive before?”

Peeking out from behind her mane, Pinkie asked, “Why would I do that? How?”

With a smug smile, Rarity stepped around and wrapped a leg about Pinkie’s shoulders. “Well then, I think that’s your problem. How could you ever expect to attract a stallion’s attention if you’ve never tried? But you and I are going to remedy that, oh, yes we are!” She spoke with pride, waving her hoof before them as if to display a great sight. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be the belle of the ball. The most beautiful mare in a mile-wide radius. With the dress I shall design, you will be everything Fine’s ever desired!”

At the mention of the name, Pinkie let out a squeak and bounced away. “H-how did you know? I didn’t tell… wait, did Rainbow tell you? But she Pinkie Promised not to!”

Rarity’s lips curled to one side in a saucy smile, her eyes narrowing with fiendish delight. “Rainbow didn’t say a thing, but she didn’t have to. I’ve seen the way you look at him. And you did say you wanted it in four days, which I can’t help but notice is right before the two of you are leaving on that little vacation of yours.”

Pinkie thought her eyes might fall out of her head if they got any wider. “You know about the trip?”

“That one Rainbow did tell me.” Rarity licked her lips lasciviously, her tail swishing side to side like that of a cat prepared to pounce on a favorite toy. “And I expect juicy details when you get back.”

She was back on that highway again, but this time her little car was surrounded on all sides by mini-Rarities driving as close as they could, and every last one of them stared at her with the same eager grin. It was so terribly distracting that she crashed then and there.

“But I don’t know any juicy details,” she cried, throwing her hooves up in the air. “I don’t even know if there’s any juice to be juiced! I want him to like me but I’m not pretty and his last crush was Fluttershy and that’s some big wings to fill and I don’t even have wings so I don’t know what I’m gonna do and coming here was a last desperate gamble and I’m pretty good at gambling because Pinkie Sense but I don’t think even you can make me that pretty but I don’t think Fine will notice me if I’m not and I wanna be noticed so bad it’s driving me on all sorts of crazy twists and turns until my highway is all tangled up in knots and I don’t know where to go and I’m so confused and scared and more scared than confused make that super scared because we’re gonna talk about things I really don’t wanna talk about but I have to talk about them because it’s important for things to get juicy and I need wings like Fluttershy and I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore!”

She fell to her knees and buried her face in her hooves, shivering and breathing heavily. Her heart pounded as if she’d just ran a marathon. Her eyes burned like fire. For a tender moment, she forgot where she was and what she’d been doing. Her mind felt stretched, pulled apart by so many competing thoughts that wanted nothing to do with one another. She couldn’t even decide if she wanted to scream.

“Oh, Pinkie.” She felt Rarity resting beside her, pressing their sides together as she cooed softly in her ear and stroked her mane. “You really are new to this whole romance thing, aren’t you?”

“He’s gonna reject me,” Pinkie whispered, placing her forehooves on the floor but unable to lift her head. “I just know it.”

Rarity nuzzled her cheek. “Is that Pinkie Sense talking?”

“I… I don’t know.” She felt at her barrel and groaned. “Pinkie Sense is usually… y’know, floppy ears and twitchy tails. This is just an icky feeling in my stomach, like I had way too many cupcakes, but the icky feeling won’t go away.” She rested her chin on the floor and sighed. “I don’t want to be rejected.”

“Those feelings are natural, dear.” Rarity resumed stroking her mane, her voice soothing. “Every pony feels this way when facing down the pony they care about.”

With a sniff, Pinkie shifted her head to eye her friend. “Really?”

Rarity nodded with a soft smile. “Of course. Romance is a risky business. Every pony knows that. The knowledge is embedded in our very souls, and when the time comes, our bodies react appropriately.” She tapped her chin, eyes drifting to the ceiling. “At least, that’s how I like to look at it. Mother liked to use a ‘boat on the sea’ analogy, but then she was always squeamish on the water.”

“B-but if it’s so scary and dangerous, why do we do it?” Pinkie asked, one part frightened and another part curious.

“Well, why do we?” Rarity asked, looking at Pinkie expectantly.

Pinkie took a moment to look back at all the mini-Rarities and mini-Pinkies standing around her crashed vehicle on the mental highway between the exits to confusion and fear. They just stared back blankly.

When she failed to produce a response, Rarity did so for her. “It’s because we know the reward is worth the risk.”

“Is it?” Pinkie’s eyes widened a bit. “Is it really?”

“You tell me.” Rarity set her hooves atop one of Pinkie’s. “You’re scared. You’re hurting. You have no idea what’s coming. You’re entering entirely new territory. And yet you still came to me for help. You’re still trying. Why do you think you would do that?”

“Because… b-because…” Why would she do that? Was it because she felt so happy when Fine was around her? Or perhaps the way he grew flustered with her made his cheeks puff up in that cute little way. Could it be how when she finally got him to attend one of her parties, he’d looked so scared and lost like a little puppy? Or perhaps it was the way he could be so confident and sturdy when the entire world seemed like it was falling down around him.

Or maybe she wasn’t really addressing Rarity’s question. She hadn’t asked why Pinkie was after Fine, she asked why Pinkie was after love. Was there a disconnect there? Did there have to be? Pinkie liked Fine. If he didn’t want to be with her, that would be the worst possible thing, something to which the mini-Rarities in her head all nodded in firm agreement. But if it happened, by some unlikely, once in a bajillion million zillion chance, then Pinkie would surely be…

“Because something tells me it’s worth it,” she said aloud, amazed at her own little discovery. Rarity beamed at her and nodded. “Because I really, really want Fine to like me, even if the idea of him not liking me gives me a tummy ache.”

“There, you see? Not so complicated, is it?” Rarity gave her a hug, which Pinkie eagerly returned.

“Thanks, Rarity. But I still don’t know what I’m doing.” She tapped her hooves together as her cheeks grew hot. “Do you really think you can make me pretty?”

“There’s a lot more to catching a stud’s heart than being pretty,” Rarity replied primly, but then amended with a sly smile, “But it never hurt. And yes, I have absolute confidence. When I am finished, you’ll be turning the heads of every stallion in sight, and maybe a few mares too.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t have that.” Pinkie shook her head frantically. “I don’t want Fine to get hurt trying to fight stallions and mares off for my hoof or anything! Although that would be an amazing way to show he cares, just turning Fine’s head will do.”

Rarity giggled and stood. “Don’t worry, Fine won’t be able to look at anything but you.”

For the first time since this whole mess started, Pinkie felt a trickle of hope. She sat up and rubbed her straightened mane with both hooves. “Um… for the dress… can you make it work with my mane like this?” At Rarity’s questioning look, she added, “I think Fine likes it better this way. I’m not sure, but I think so.”

Rarity opened and closed her mouth a few times, brow furrowed and muzzle scrunched up. She seemed to shake something off before finally saying, “Darling, I’m more than willing to accommodate that request. But please remember: if Fine is going to like you, he’s going to like you for you, not for your manestyle.”

She didn’t understand, and Pinkie had no means of explaining. So, with a sigh, she nodded. “I get it. Honest. But… please?”

Pursing her lips, Rarity peered into Pinkie’s eyes. Pinkie fidgeted, not sure what was expected of her. Yet, after only a moment, her friend smiled. “Oh, very well.”

As if the matter were behind them, Rarity reared back to gesture grandly at the stairs. “Step into my parlor, Pinkie. It’s time I made you shine!” She punctuated the statement with a giddy giggle.

Despite everything, Pinkie grinned. She didn’t know if even Rarity was good enough to make her pretty, but for the first time she felt as if this trip with Fine might not be a total disaster.

“You’re staring at her.”

Without years of training and experience, Fine might have leapt out of his horseshoes. Instead, her turned his head to find Octavia standing at his side in the shadows of a shop.

She cocked her head with a concerned frown. “How serious?”

He blinked. “What?”

Octavia’s frown only deepened. “Nopony sneaks up on you, and I wasn’t even trying. So… how serious is this thing that troubles you?” She turned her gaze to pack-laden Pinkie, who bounced circles around an amused Rarity and Rainbow Dash outside the train station. “You know she’s probably aware you’re here.”

With a sigh, he nodded and looked to the animated, mysterious pink mare. “Probably. As to seriousness… Pretty serious.”

She glanced at him, then at his own set of packs. “Should I be worried about you two?”

“Probably. Probably not.” He offered what he suspected was a wan smile. “Depends on the context. In terms of our physical health? We’ll be alright.”

A grey eyebrow rose over a skeptical gaze. “And as a couple?”

He choked and turned away once more. “Verdict’s still out on that one.”

“You two as a couple. It seems almost surreal, picturing it in my head. How do you feel about it?”

Why was she asking these questions? He wished she would stop. Yet, for reasons he couldn’t fathom, it felt important that he give an answer. Any answer. Better that than the doubt that came with silence. “I… don’t know how to feel about it.” Okay, maybe not any answer.

Was that a gasp he heard? “Do you at least find her attractive?”

He looked at her once more, and saw a much deeper worry in her eyes than before. What did she want him to say? What was he supposed to say? He was sure there was a proper response, but it eluded him. He closed his eyes and focused for a moment on the moths that seemed to have nested in his stomach over the past week. He opened his eyes and looked to Pinkie, who had engulfed Rarity in a breath-stealing hug while Rainbow looked on.

At last, he forced something out of his throat. “I’m sorry. I know you want me to say something that makes this not look like a big mistake. The only experience I have with courting is one overlong and unrequited crush. This is… different. I don’t want to mess this up, but…” He raised a foreleg between them, displaying it as if it were a wound. Near-imperceptible trembling dominated its motions.

His eyes met hers, and he silently begged for help. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

She observed his hoof, then stared into his eyes. A sly smile drifted across her lips. “You’re like a colt on his first date, aren’t you?”

Heat bloomed in his cheeks. The moths grew restless. “I’ve never been on a date.”

The smile vanished as her jaw dropped. “Never? Not even for the job?”

He took this opportunity to study the grass at his hooves. “I was more focused on breaking necks than hearts.”

She heaved a deep sigh. “I wish you’d said something sooner. Your friends would have given you advice.” The train whistle blew. “Too late for that now. You need to go.”

“I guess I do,” he replied with equal parts eagerness and dread. “Thanks for seeing me off. Unexpected, but appreciated.”

Her small smile came back, only this time it seemed much more sincere. “Of course. And don’t worry, I’ll keep the others in line while you’re gone.”

“I appreciate that.” He noted Pinkie climbing aboard the train. “That’s my cue. See you later, Octavia.”

“You too. And good luck.”

Smokey clouds formed around him, and Fine felt the familiar shift in his surroundings. When it passed and the smoke faded, he stood in an empty private room on the train. In an instant, he took in his surroundings; the chip in the corner of the window, the stain on the front-side seat cushion he didn’t want to know the source of, door and which direction it opened, the fact the window was locked, the number and tone of the voices in the hallway outside...

Gradually, the instant sensory check that was typical for him faded, replaced by a numbing thought: This is actually happening.

The door slid open and Pinkie trotted in, grinning from ear to ear. The moment the door closed, however, her mane went limp and her smile shifted into something less cheery and more… uncertain.

The two ponies sat and stared at one another. Fine felt… full? Like air had been pumped into his chest. The moths were doing a flying routine in the extra space and his tongue seemed to have developed an attraction with the roof of his mouth. He didn’t know whether he should teleport away or… or what else?

The whistle blew once more and the train began to move. At last, Pinkie broke the quiet between them. “So… we’re really doing this.”

Fine swallowed, and found his tongue heeding his commands at last. “Yeah. I guess we are.”

Moving with a strange coordination, they settled on opposite sides of the room. For a few anxious seconds, Fine couldn’t bring himself to look at her. When he did at last, it was to meet a wall of mane hiding her face. Should he say something to her? He had no idea.

At last, he turned his attention to the scenery beyond the window, though he saw none of it. One thought, distracting as it was disturbing, echoed in his mind:

I wasn’t prepared for this.