Fallout Equestria: Medicine & Mail

Author’s Notes:

This is a companion chapter to Chapter Four in Medicine & Mail. If you have not read at least through chapter four in the main storyline, then this perspective will not make any sense.

Chapter Four-point-Five

Closure

“Don’t go blamin’ others for your own problems.

We’ve all got things of our own to worry about.”

I awoke abruptly, the thoughts of the suppressor’s imminent removal fresh on my mind. The room around was silent, with Bit Flip sleeping soundlessly on her cot, with only the mild hum of a ventilation system filling the air.

The dim night light above the doorway lit the room just enough to make my way around without crashing into anything, and I slipped into my medical overcoat and out the door, careful not to disturb Bit, hoping for once to let her sleep in peace, something I couldn’t recall having ever seen.

I tipped the door shut behind me and peered out into the distance of the hall. Dry grey stone lined the walls, with sporadic grey pipes running its length, illuminated only by a few flickering yellow lights. I turned left down the hall and continued retracing the steps shown to us the night before, and soon found myself out of the cramped circular hallways and into an open living space.

Unlike the hallways that patterned out the Ridge below, these wide areas were high enough to allow even larger earth ponies to stand upright properly, and where the halls were round, this space was flat and rectangular. Tents and makeshift stone barriers had transformed the open area into a maze of its own, a small commune within the larger one where groups of ponies could eat, drink, and sleep away their weariness in the comforts of a larger crowd.

And it seemed I was not the only one to have found myself awake so early, as light murmurs echoed throughout the basin, and shuffling sounds came to me from all directions. The smell of boiled greens filled the air and coated the sticky, sweaty stench with one that had my stomach growling.

I walked through the half-awake crowd, noting the fillies and colts getting dolled up and rushing away with a small sidebag hoisted over their sides, all dashing off in the same direction. Buff Aloe had explained to Bit and me the previous day that education was one of the more important facets of life in the sealed away area here. Most were taught only what met the needs of the community as a whole, which meant engineering, medicine, horticulture, and repairs primarily.

With a loud thunk, the dim lighting gave way to bright fluorescent, and almost immediately, the small community all around me sprang to life. Light murmurs gave way to deafening chatter, curtains were flung aside and ponies of all sorts flooded into the small walking space that had previously been almost all mine own.

The rush of the crowd pulled me along with it, bumping me from side to side as I nearly had to trot to keep up the pace and not be swept away. At the first split, I hopped away from the surging crowd and gasped for breath at the entrance to another circular hallway.

“Y’ new here, lass?” The voice came from just beyond the hallway entrance, and the creaking voice matched the aged face that went with it perfectly. The stallion’s mane had thinned and greyed, and he wore a motted patch over one eye.

I nodded, then added, “I’m just surprised at how sudden it was.” But just as suddenly as it had started, the rushing crowd was gone, the dozens of eager ponies making their way further down the hall, with only a few stragglers trotting behind.

“First light means work orders are up,” the stallion said flatly.

The look on my face must have been easy to recognize, as he continued with a sigh, “Jus’ means if y’ want t’ eat another meal t’day, y’ best be in the front or yer on cleanin’ duty, an’ nopony want that.”

I nodded. “Is that work for all fields, including medical?”

The stallion looked at me quizzically, then huffed. “Naw, they got their own system.”

I asked him for directions and thanked him before heading on my way, through one hall, around two bends, and to the door at the end of the next bay. It was large and heavy, primarily iron with steel bands across its circular design. A small window sat square in the center, and a well-worn com system rested in the corner.

I pressed the switch on the com system and waited a moment before a crackling static broke the still silence of the hall and a loud, exuberant voice echoed throughout. “Yer that new foal come here by that old coot?”

Assuming by old coot the boisterous voice meant Buff Aloe, I pressed again and responded that I was.

The door opened by rolling to one side, and in its absence stood a light grey pony with a quizzical look across his features. His coat was white but frayed and worn, and two slits were cut out along the sides where two small wings protruded.

“So!” He announced, bringing my attention square to the jaunted face. He took a step close and peered with exaggerated motions all around my horn, uncomfortably long into my eyes, and then snorted and turned back in. “Yep,” he said, walking off and coming to a stop at a slab of concrete that was acting as a table, “That shouldn’t be much of a problem.”

As I stepped in, the pegasus, with his two frayed wings in constant twitch and flutter, continued talking, “And that damn coot made it sound like it was going to be a challenge!” He let out a short cackle, then turned back to me with a wide grin. “Or it might be. I’m Scope. Doctor ’round these halls.”

“Uh, Vitia.”

“Anyway, tell me, little filly, how long have you had that on?”

“I’m not a filly,” I started, but quickly changed under the pressure of those gleaming olive eyes, “Not more than a couple weeks.”

“Aha!” He exclaimed, flipping his ears. “Right then, let’s get that off, shall we? Now, it’s gonna hurt.” He motioned me to another makeshift table, but the stone was much smoother, much colder, had a gleam of polish on it, and I could catch a faint whiff of ethanol and chlorine in the air around it. “The ring itself, that’s no problem, you see, as I’ve got something that’ll take that right off.”

The excitement was building in me again, like it had the night before after first hearing that I might be free of this suppressor. Free to return to using my magic. I felt as though I would be whole again, and was so elated in my own thoughts that I only caught the last of his next words.

“…They always put these pins in, though, you see, and that can be a problem. If you wait too long to get it removed, you heal around them, and then they can’t be removed. The bone fuses to the shunts and that’s that.”

My heart sank. One memory crawled up and its ugly visage stared straight at me. Hydra. I used an entire vial of it fleeing from Fleshgrove, and it was not barely a day later that the steel ring was forced onto me. I had no doubt that some of the drug would still have been coursing through my body, but never had, until that moment, realized that it may have come with a dreadful cost.

“You alright?”

The light press of a hoof on my shoulder woke me from my own fright, but my body still shook and I could feel a cold sweat form along my brow.

“No reason to be that upset, is there?”

I shook my head, “No, it’s not that. It’s fine.” I took a deep breath and tried clearing my mind of everything. “Sorry,” I said, slowly regaining my composure, “What were you saying?”

The pegasus snorted a half-laugh, then repeated himself, “We’ll get the ring off, then do some preliminary work on some of those shunts, see what we’re looking at.”

He fitted a clamp around the ring and it held tight, pressing against the steel which bit further into the thin, sensitive flesh around the edges of the ring along my horn. It hurt, but I held back a whimper.

“One of the scavenger ponies brought this back from topside, back from that run-down fort up in the old Ridge, the proper Ridge. He thought it was funny, you see, because it made a weird sound.” An off-pitch hum came from a small device held tightly between the two hooves of the pegasus. As the metal rod came closer to the ring, the noise began to change and twist in my head, causing me to become immediately dizzy.

“Only thing I know that can reliably get these off.” The noise stopped suddenly and my senses straightened out. The pegasus held up a small red gem in his hoof and had a wide smile across his face. “Phase one, complete!”

As I squinted at the small gem, Scope returned from the other table with a small saw. “At this point, your magic is no longer being suppressed—but! You won’t be able to do anything with it. The shunts are designed to channel the magic flow from your horn around to that gem, which stops it dead.”

I tried to nod but with my horn fastened in, my head would not budge, and with my eyes glued to the saw and my mind flooded with horrible memories of Doc Lance’s solution to the suppressor problem, I could only squeak a response.

“So we’ll need to get rid of the ring, you see,” he continued, placing the saw at the corner of the table. He continued talking as he walked to a shelf some distance away, “Because that will still route your magic away from your horn, so you’re still not able to use any of it.” He stopped talking for a moment, and returned with a syringe clenched between his teeth.

His eyes narrowed in concentration as he carefully pressed the tip of the needle into the tip of my horn, then slid it down along the inside of my skin against the bone all the way to the base, where he released the contents. The burning of the needle’s entrance soon gave way to a numbing sensation, which lasted only moments before it became nothing.

“Alright then,” he smiled, picking up the saw once more and fastening it to his hoof, “This shouldn’t hurt a bit.”

The saw came to life and a horrid shrieking buzz filled the room, pounding against my ears and all my senses. I struggled against myself to stay calm when every fiber of me was screaming to run away. I felt my legs twitch and start to motion for running, but the clamp held fast. The pitch of the saw increased drastically and sparks flew wildly in front of my eyes as the pegasus pressed the saw into the ring.

Calm down, Vitia, it’s fine! It’s fine, don’t panic, don’t panic, I repeated to myself. I was pressing my eyes shut so tightly that my brow and cheeks ached, and clenched my whole body.

As the saw continued through the ring, rather than pain as I expected, all I could feel was warmth. A wet warmth that ran down my forehead and my cheek. The words of Doc Lance came back. Just cut it off, he had said, and immediately my body reacted. My hind legs kicked up and all of me tried to jump away and rush off. The clamp held fast.

The shrieking buzz of the saw stopped and the only sound throughout the bay was that of my hooves scraping against the stone surface, trying in vain to get away.

“Hey, hey! Enough, it’s over, calm down!”

My mind registered the words but my body refused to listen, and kicked and scraped. I tried to turn my head but the clamp held fast, and the only result was an uncomfortable burning feeling that flowed through me from my neck.

The clamp was released, and finally my legs’ efforts were not in vain. I scraped along the surface of the table before pushing myself back and off completely. I fell hard on my back and my head slammed against the cold steel surface of the room. Pain shot through my body, but with a distinct feeling of emptiness where my horn should have been.

I squirmed about, trying to get my hooves under me once more and fumbled for my horn, ignoring the strain in my neck and dizziness from hitting my head. My foreleg pressed against its hard length, but I could feel nothing from the horn itself. As I regained my footing, I began to realize that it was still intact, and fell unceremoniously to the floor, panting and sniffling.

“That’s new,” Scope scoffed. “Tell me how you’re not a filly now, struggling about so badly.”

I just held my mouth shut, legs wrapped around my horn, and whimpered quietly.

“Tell me you’re not afraid of blood or a little pain or anything like that. I was told, you see, that you’re of the medical sort, and as you’ve got the coat for it, one would figure you’d be used to that.”

I shook my head, “It’s not that,” I started. “I’m sorry, I had some,” but I struggled for the words before finally just giving up, “Issues.”

“The way you were thrashing about, you’d think I was going to cut your horn off. Complex if ever I saw one.” He laughed, but I was silent. “Right then,” he continued, “Now I just need to drill a few of those shunts’ caps off and we can get that ring off for good.” He waited a moment, “If you’re wanting to. Or even if you’re not. You’re no good to me if you can’t get your magic going, I should imagine.”

I slowly rose to my hooves and climbed back onto the table before slumping down.

Scope pried away a portion of the ring and used a small drill to slowly cut through the rest of the ring itself.

I kept my eyes shut and forced my mind away from the whirring and buzzing sounds and back towards more pleasant thoughts, most of which involved Willow. I pictured her in my mind, radiant and cheerful as always, surrounded by her Daughters that all spoke with her so openly about their gravest concerns. The warmth of her brothel and the beaming face of Spice, the collected stature of the short minotaur Ghost Ant, of all the faces and all the comforts of the place I had quickly began to consider my new home.

The feelings turned from those of comfort to those of a homesickness I had not felt since leaving Desert’s Edge. I wanted very much to say my thanks right then, and find my way back to the Crags. Even if it meant never being able to use my magic again. But that would mean leaving Bit…

“Alright then, filly,” Scope interrupted my thoughts. “Let us get this off, shall we?”

Before I could say anything, the ring was being pried from my horn. The numbing agent Scope gave me had started to wear, and the ring was pressed into my skin so hard that its removal peeled away strips and cut fresh new lines into the thin skin. I had to bite into my lip to keep silent, and clenched my body to not jerk away.

But soon it was over, and a fresh feeling of air against my horn met me for the first time in weeks. It burned, and my eyes watered, but I was joyful. It wasn’t over yet, but I could feel again, and that which I had taken for granted was now returned to me, and I had never missed anything more.

“Phase two complete, yeah?” He dropped the drill in a bin with the saw and other tools he had used so far, before reaching for a wedge-shaped blade and a pair of pliers. “And I don’t mean to put you down, but this part,” he paused, “Is gonna hurt.”

He slid a bit toward me and looked at me for several long moments. I took a deep breath and lifted the clog to my mouth.

“You’ve got five we’ll have to remove. Unfortunately, we’re going to have to do this the hard way, as we’ve no sedative here.”

I nodded. To remove the shunts, he’d have to break them away from the bone that was trying to grow around or fuse to the metal rods, and yank them out. And more than that, I knew, was that they were forced through the bone itself into the nerves and magic channels beneath, and their removal would tear up the repaired flesh there.

He adjusted his overhanging clamp and clenched it to the sides of my head and neck, then nodded. “You ready?”

The bit in my mouth and head unable to move, I just grunted my affirmation.

He nodded once more, then brought the scalpel to the first rod. The blade effortlessly cut through the flesh, leaving a warm, wet burning sensation that caused my eyes to water and blood to slowly run down my forehead. He pressed the pliers against the rod and took a deep breath.

The next thing I felt was immense pain unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It felt as though all of my organs were being wrenched from me. Pressure built behind my eyes and I forced them closed for fear of them being ripped from my skull. From the tips of my ears down my mane and through my guts, the pain radiated. I was biting down on the bit so hard I was certain my teeth would be crushed, when suddenly it stopped.

“Damn,” Scope spat. “The bone is completely fused to that one.” He switched to the wedge tool and slid its sharp thin edge against the rod, then tapped it with his hoof. A spike was driven into my nerves and for a moment my vision went red and my stomach desired to empty itself. Scope slid the tool along the rod and tapped again, causing my lower body to buckle, and eyes to stream new wetness down my face. “Nope,” is all he said as he pulled the tool out.

The second rod was much the same. The pliers were unable to force the rod out, and a few excruciating taps with the wedge tool resulted in nothing. The second failure had Scope angry, and he slammed the tools on the table. “Only a few weeks, you said?”

I couldn’t respond with the bit, and he motioned for me to spit it out. My mouth empty, I explained in short phrases, eyes burning and voice choked up, “It really has been. Maybe three. And half.”

“Well I can’t be getting so old as to not be able to pull these out, but your bone is melded right to them.”

I stayed silent, unwilling to admit the Hydra’s effects, but my mood was swathed in gloom, and the few moments of joy had now turned to a devastating weight on my heart to match the immense pressure that radiated through me.

Scope snorted, lifting the soggy bit back to my mouth. “We’ll keep going, but I’m not going to be as gentle. I don’t think I can afford to, you see.”

The pliers pressed to the third rod, and a mighty pull from Scope had my body retaliating against itself. The pain was so immense that for a moment I seemed to fade completely. When my awareness returned, my vision blurred and twisted, and the warped shape of the grey pegasus holding in the pliers a thin silver rod slowly came to focus.

“Well, that’s one,” he grinned, “But not without a cost, it seems.”

Feeling began returning from my extremities, and an acrid stench of ammonia came to me to match the wet warmth down my backside.

As Scope cleaned up my mess, I stared down at the rod clamped between the pliers. It was thin and short, but bits of a light pink coated the tip, and every beat of my heart felt like the rod was being shoved back through bone and nerves where it had once been.

Scope returned, lifted the bit back to my mouth, and prepared for the fourth attempt. He pulled and I cried out. The rod gave some but the pliers came back with no purchase. He placed the wedge to it and hit it with much more vigor than the first attempts. Each left me dizzy and sick, but a few moments later and a brief blackout once more, the next rod was free.

The fifth was removed quickly, but no less painfully. As he pulled against it, I could feel a crack within my horn, and when the rod came free, it came with a few slivers of a calcium residue as well.

“Three of five, is the best I can do.” The immediate pain had receded but his words came to me in a fuzz. “I’d have to break your horn in several places to get those other ones off, or simply cut whole chunks of your horn out for them, but either way I’m sure that’ll result in greater permanent damage.”

My jaw gave way and fell slack, dropping the sopping bit onto the stone tabletop with a plop. My body relaxed as well, the pain itself having given way to a constant, dull burning.

Scope poured some water and alcohol over my horn carefully, which was not the most painful, just most uncomfortable, experience of the day. He took a swab and skillfully ran along the edges of the holes and over the cuts. He tweezed out a few fragments of bone and residue, then wrapped it with gauze.

He began to undo the clamp, and his words were spoken with a quiet relief, “You’re not going to be able to use magic for a while yet. Don’t try, either, it’ll just hurt tremendously. Give yourself at least a few days. Ideally, several weeks.”

The clamp came free and with the support it provided gone, I fell into a pile of sweaty, bloody, urine-covered unicorn.

A small cup was set down at the edge of the table. “It’s no sedative, but it should dull the pain just enough to let you be useful.”

The ochre liquid burned immensely as I gulped it down. Rum, I noted. And cheap, but powerful. I dropped the cup from my lips and coughed as I felt the hard liquor make its way down my scratched throat.

“Alright then,” Scope smiled, patting me on the back. “There’s no work just now, but when there is, you’re going to need to know your way around if you’re to be any use at all. So, you see, I think a tour’s in order.”

Scope turned to the wall and spoke into a small speaker, “Frolic, you there, you damn colt?”

A few moments later a deep voice responded, “I’m here, Doc. Whatcha need?”

“Got me a filly here that needs to see the Ridge, and as you’ve never anything to do, I figure that’s something that’ll at least make you partway useful.”

“Why don’t you do it?”

Scope let out a rough “Pah!”, then hit the speaker once more, “Some of us actually have things to do, you halfwit! And I got a lab to clean, besides!”

The mention of the mess reminded me of my accident, and I blushed, and skulked off the table, holding my wet tail down. It took concerted effort to stand and move about properly, but each step felt more sure and it wouldn’t be long before I stopped leaning on tables for support.

Without any answer, Scope turned back and went to a door to the side. “No sense in you going around the Ridge all dirtied up. There’s a shower back here,” he motioned through the door. “And a basin for your coat.”

Frolic was an unremarkable earth pony, riding that line at being just too young to be a stallion, but fully grown and brimming with confidence. His coat was brown, and he wore a cropped tan mane. He arrived at Scope’s bay before I had finished cleaning, and Scope was quick to rush me out. My partially-washed overcoat lay on a rack beside the basin I rinsed it in, and I wasn’t given the time to get it.

Frolic mumbled back at the closing door, then hummed a note to himself. I glanced back to see he had cocked his head slightly and was enjoying himself a full view of my backside. I was at once flushed and angry, and instinctively tucked my tail and tapped my back hoof loudly.

After being caught stealing a glance, Frolic started to offer up details about where different tunnels led, and I came to learn that most of the Ridge below that we were in was maintenance tunnels and routes that went in fact nowhere, to places on the surface that were sealed off, or used for ventilation systems and life support necessities. Many of the smaller circular tunnels fed into several of the longer, larger areas, some of which had been converted into ateliers like that of Buff Aloe’s, hydroponic gardens, and residential areas.

The hours of the morning continued on, and Frolic never stopped talking. A good portion of it was information regarding the Ridge, but just as much was about himself. “I get to go up to the surface,” he offered up.

“Is that unusual?”

He laughed, “Of course. You don’t know what might be up there, and it’s very dangerous. But I’m not scared,” he added, adopting a cocky tone and standing as tall as he could. “Sure, it’s scary for some ponies but it’s not that bad when you’ve gone as much as I have.”

I rolled my eyes and caught sight of a worn series of green hashes painted sloppily on the next turnoff. Frolic had been eager to show me the Gardens prior, and I had noticed that they were denoted with these marks, so had since been keeping an eye out for them.

I hopped up the slight step into the circular hallway, eager to make my way through the room beyond. I was certain the light sway in my step was being looked over by the young stallion with that crude lust of youth, but I told myself to ignore it. There could be something far more important beyond the door.

“Not really certain Scope means for you to go to every one of the grower labs,” Frolic added a few moments later.

I ignored him and moved toward the entrance. The door, like the three others we had visited already, was primarily iron and steel on this side, and opened by the simple press of a switch against the wall. With a hiss the door rolled aside and the now-familiar glow of the pale yellow lighting systems and mild green lights lining the vats came into view through the thick mist of the room.

The room was methodically structured like all the others, with long rows of stone tables reaching deep into the mist, with space wide enough for two ponies to stand abreast, tight though that may have been. Atop each table was row upon row of lush, green plant life suspended in clear containers of water, lit from below by a thin glass strip of green liquid. Mist sprayed in timely intervals from the system above, and the vats circulated water about slowly.

Like the greens from the night before prepared by Lilac, most of the vegetables here were fresh, and would be worth an amazing amount of trade on the surface above.

“This is Garden Four,” Frolic added emptily. “Nothing different from the others. All eight are like this, y’know. Same lights, same plants, same pointless visit.” He sighed, and mumbled something about wasting time.

I ignored the youth, and made my way in awe down the aisles. Perhaps Frolic had lived down here too long, I thought, and didn’t understand just how amazing these gardens of theirs were. Even in Desert’s Edge, it was a struggle to keep what little vegetation we could sustained and of quantities vast enough for our small population, and from everywhere I’ve seen since, the junction town would be considered extremely lucky.

But more than admiration, I walked along the aisles with an eye peeled, my heart beating awkwardly and unevenly in my chest, and nerves on the edge. At my request and to the displeasure of the impatient Frolic, Scope had provided me a listing of the recent additions to Buff Aloe’s Ridge, and one signed “S.S.” caught my attention. The word assigned to the name was marked out several times but “Garden” was still intact, so I came to understand that to mean she’d be assigned to one of these gardens, though I knew not which.

But it didn’t take but moments more before I knew. Through the mist, a flash of silver mane and a cerulean coat beneath came into view. I couldn’t help but smile, and trotted to her.

I stopped just a few steps behind her, and saw the familiar rosebud cutie mark. She hadn’t noticed me yet, and kept her attention on the plant in front of her. She was turning over each leaf and rotating it slowly in its container.

“Silver,” I called out.

She jumped and turned to me quickly, “Don’t scare me like that,” she started, then just stared at me for a few seconds. “Vitia?” she finally asked.

My cheeks tugged as I kept smiling, nodding. “Hi, Silver.”

Her eyes flitted from me to Frolic behind me then back. Her look turned from astonishment to confusion, and she shook her head. “What are you doing here?”

Since my time leaving Desert’s Edge, I had several weeks to consider what I would say should I ever have found her again, but at that moment, nothing came to me, and I stayed silent, only shrugging.

Silver Sheen’s confusion gave way to some distorted look of concern or anger, I couldn’t be certain, and she kept silent for some long moments.

Frolic interrupted the silence, “Awkward.”

“Be quiet,” Silver glared at him. “This has nothing to do with you, so get lost,” she thrust her hoof in the air away from us several times.

I was surprised, having never seen such an attitude from the mare I had remembered as being so demure and passive.

Frolic responded poorly, snorting loudly and tapping his hoof on the stone groundwork harshly. “Piss off,” he spat. “Come on, Vitia, we better get you back to Scope or he’ll yell at us both.”

“I’m so glad to see you’re okay, Silver,” I said, ignoring the irritated snorts of the youth behind us.

Silver averted her gaze and stared at one of the plants absently. “I suppose.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, come on!” Frolic shouted. “She’s just some fuck-up, you know,” he said to me. “Been shuffled around so many times I can’t believe she’s not being held in detainment or chained up and tossed top-side.”

I turned on the stallion angrily, and slammed my hoof against the stone beneath my hooves. “Nopony asked for your opinion!”

“It’s not an opinion,” he replied before nodding toward Silver, “Everypony here knows the new screwup.”

“Shut up,” I cried.

“You better go,” Silver sighed. “He’s right, you know. I’m on my last chance here, so I can’t let you two distract me. I’ve got work to do,” she said, returning her attention to the plants.

“Oh, just ignore this foal. Doesn’t seem like he’s worth anything around here,” I glared at Frolic. Silver ignored me and absently tended to the plant. A long moment later, I sank, “I guess I better, then.”

Silver just nodded.

“Can I…Can we maybe get a bite later and catch up? So much has happened, Silver.”

“No,” she replied sternly, never averting her gaze from the plant. “No, Vitia, I don’t think we should.”

Frolic laughed. “Shot down, and after you dragged me across half the damn Ridge just trying to find this fuckup.”

“Shut up, Frolic.” I was confused and angry, and was all-too eager to turn the mixed emotions on the insensitive foal of a fool.

“Just go,” Silver said softly.

“Just go, just like that? Do you know, do you have any idea—” I started, then scrunched my face and shook my head. I didn’t want to go down that road, to make it out like I blamed her for me leaving Desert’s Edge, for everything I’d gone through since. Knowing there’d be no recovery from that line, I just stamped my hooves in frustration and turned away.

I walked back through the halls, ready to return to Scope’s lab, eager to keep the hum of ventilation and life support as the only noise, but Frolic kept making comments around nearly every bend. “Lover’s quarrel,” he chided. “Just watching that mess made my whole morning. I couldn’t have asked for better entertainment, so I guess I owe Doc Scope one.”

I ignored the foalish comments until we stepped through the door to Scope’s bay once more. Inside, the grey pegasus was nowhere around, but the bay that had been empty just a few hours ago was now busy with many earth ponies and unicorns in tattered white lab coats, each looking over paperwork or packing small medical tins.

Frolic ignored them, and motioned me to follow. We walked through a door and down a small hallway, coming into another open area that had been converted into a lab. Benches lined the walls, and various chemical toolsets adorned those. Beakers and vials, petri dishes in sealed refrigeration or incubatory containers, and stacks of books and cuttings.

“Hey Doc,” Frolic called out, rousing the pegasus from his study. “Brought your lovestruck little project back.”

“Hm? Ah, Vitia, great. And you’re in one piece. Good, Frolic didn’t make a complete mess of it at least.”

“Close enough,” I mumbled. I turned back and kicked my back leg at the tile surface with enough force to make a loud clack. Frolic’s gaze broke from my hindquarters and he clicked his teeth as he made his way out of the lab.

“Well,” Scope chuckled, “I guess we won’t be asking him to guide you around again, hm?”

I sighed and turned back to the pegasus. “So what do I do today?”

He looked at me with his amber eyes for a long moment, then shrugged. “Nothing’s happened today. Been real quiet. So, you see, I figure I’ll have you on with Patch for the first while. There’s still some time left today, so let’s get you up an’ acquainted-like.” He stepped through the door into the hallway and I followed.

In the main medical bay, he walked up to a mare with a coat so short and light pink that I couldn’t tell what was hair and what was her skin beneath. Splotches of a coal grey decorated what little bits of her body she left uncovered by white cloth and her white overcoat.

“Patch,” Scope called out. “This is Vitia, the new filly I mentioned.”

Patch’s face was bright, with pale blue eyes and a well-maintained grey mane that bobbed along the sides of her face. She smiled wide and nodded excitedly, “Great! Hi! I’m Patch, as you’ve gathered. I’ve got to make a run over to Security Center Two, so you’ll come with me and I’ll show you what we do mostly.”

“Just a moment, before you leave,” Scope said. He slipped a small petri dish from his front coat pocket and held it up for me. Inside was a little red gem. “Something of a memento.”

“Oh that’s quite pretty,” Patch beamed. “It’s the same kind of red that flickers in your eyes. Memento for what?”

I thanked Scope and took to sliding my damp yellow overcoat on. In the weeks since the suppressor was fitted, I’d learned to dress myself without telekinetic aid, but it was a slow and clumsy process, and the silence after Patch’s question only made the scene more embarrassing.

With the coat strapped in, I slid the gem into a pocket, and nodded to Scope. “Sorry, Patch. I’m good to go now.”

Patch explained to me that she’s often tasked with this particular errand to this particular security station. “This stallion must be incredibly clumsy,” she told me. “He seems to get hurt at least once a week. It’s never anything major, just a scrape here or bruise there.”

“How is that unusual? Does nopony get hurt in security?”

“Some do, sometimes. But I swear, if it’s him again, it’s like he gets hurt on purpose.”

“What if he does?” I had an idea of what was going on, but could only nudge a little, unwilling to go all in and assume it was a romantic interest.

“Why would anypony get hurt on purpose?”

I grinned, but before I could nudge her on some more, she turned and looked at me with her brows twisted and face scrunched. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not like that.”

“Well, why not?”

Patch fell silent, and the rest of the walk was uncomfortable, but it was thankfully not far from there. When we turned the last bend, the grey stone pathway gave way to steel grating, and the door to the room was notably thicker and sturdier than any other I’d seen here. It was slick with moisture, and looked to be solid steel.

As Patch has suspected, it was in fact that pony, who I came to learn was named Deuce. He’d apparently had “a bit of a spat” and came away with a mild scrape on his shoulder. I applied a light scrub with a thin alcohol solution from Patch’s medic’s kit and wrapped the minor wound with a thin layer of gauze and tape.

All the while Deuce ignored me, and made small talk with Patch. He seemed overly interested in anything she said, and asked for more details and made a concerted effort to appear to care.

When the wound was dressed and Patch and I had left, I could contain myself not more than two steps after the steel door had shut, and nearly fell to my haunches laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry, Patch,” I giggled, “But you can’t have not noticed.”

Patch blushed, her pale pink cheeks burning bright under the strong light. “You’re imagining things. There’s no way,” she grumbled.

“Oh come on, Patch, that wound of his was barely a scratch. It didn’t even break enough skin to bleed more than maybe a few drops. I’ve seen little colts and fillies get worse playing with each other. So why not?”

“Stop it, Vitia,” she said. There was a slight whimper behind her voice but she tried to mask it. Perhaps if I was still the same unicorn I was back in Desert’s Edge, I wouldn’t have noticed it, but my time with Bit Flip and my brief instruction by Spice helped me catch a hint that there was some deeper reason she was forcing herself to not see the obvious.

“Come on, Patch,” I said, eager to change topics and move on. “I haven’t eaten at all today. Surely this place has something like lunch, right? What say we find something?”

Patch nodded quietly, then smiled and perked up again. “Alright, yeah. It’s closer to dinner, though.”

Patch and I were each handed a shallow bowl filled with a thin soup on a tray covered in fresh greens and diced carrots.

We made our way to an empty table, which creaked in turn as each of us sat on its worn iron seats. It was still early in the dinner cycle, so most of the seating area was empty beside us.

“I’m still amazed,” I said, taking a carrot slice and crunching into it, savoring the cold flavor on my tongue. “At how much greenery you all have here.”

Patch cocked her head. “Isn’t it like that everywhere?”

I nearly choked on spinach leaves. After swallowing and a long gulp of water later, I told her of parts of the world above as I had seen them. “Most of the produce of the Marejave is brought in on trade from quite far away, or found only in small farming settlements that have managed to avoid bandits and raiders, but those don’t last long.”

“So what did you eat?”

In between bites, I continued, “I grew up in a Junction. That’s kind of like this place, just above ground. But I was lucky. Most junctions exist only as trade or as a matter of necessity by a group that couldn’t continue any further in the desert, but Desert’s Edge had been there since before junctions were a thing. Before the war, some of the townsfolk said.

“But we were so far off of the main roads that there were very few raider camps around so we survived fairly well. That and because we were on the edge of an ample aquifer, we were able to grow our own food like this. But everywhere else I’ve been, it’s not been as fresh, and sometimes rotting oats are the best you can expect to have for days, or cactus served in any way they can to mask the bitter taste.”

Patch stared down at her empty tray. “That’s horrible. I can’t imagine ever wanting to live like that.”

I nodded, taking the last drops of water from my glass. “I don’t know. It’s all new to me, but it’s special, in its own way. You get to meet some amazing ponies.”

“So why did you come here?”

I was reminded of the awkward meeting with Silver earlier that day, and furrowed my brows. I still have to talk to her. We’re not staying here for long. It might be my only chance.

I shook my head. “Nevermind that. So is that all we need to do for work?”

Patch shrugged. “We make a lot of house calls. Most of the time it’s just courtesy, but we need to be on top of things, since we don’t have a steady supply of medicine. Doctor Scope is an incredible stallion, but we simply go through too much too fast. Our great leader has given him his own lab and dedicated a secondary garden for his research into effective medicines, but it’s just not enough, and we’ve already exhausted the supplies from above.”

She and I slid our trays onto a shelf on the opposite end of the cafeteria, then proceeded back toward the lab. She continued, “We can’t reliably grow the materials necessary to manufacture proper healing potions down here, and sedatives have always been low or outright empty, so we can only really make do with penicillin and alcohol right now. But that’s why Scope has so many nurses, and why we have to be extra vigilant. A new contagion could easily cripple us permanently.”

At a bisection, she stopped and turned to me, “But Scope did say that this would be all for the day. We’ll start our rounds tomorrow at First Light. Goodnight, Vitia.”

I watched for a moment as Patch made her way down the hall before turning the opposite direction and following the blue stripe along the rail that would lead to the small room for Bit and me.

Our room was as I had left it that morning, only the other cot was empty. I hoped that Bit’s day was as relatively uneventful as mine, but I knew she had other concerns on her mind.

As the minutes dragged on in the empty room, I considered venturing out and seeking Silver, but as I played our previous encounter over in my head, I realized I had nothing to say that would change the outcome, and it’d just be another failed attempt. So instead I began to rummage through the small bag I carried with me.

I had tried to keep it empty, to travel light, under the suggestion of everypony that I said my goodbyes to, so only a few empty canteens, a few gifts from the Daughters, and one important item remained: the outfit that Willow bought for me.

I pulled it out gingerly, and rolled it over in my arms, running my hoof along the lace and frills at the edge of the skirt. It smelled faintly of cinnamon, and all at once I found myself kicking out of my overcoat and slipping into the pink and white dress. The laced panties slid on first, then carefully the one-piece followed. I struggled for some time to do up the lace without magic to the memories of Willow tying the bows for me, then more vigorously and frantically untying them…

I shook my head, trying to keep myself modest. Bit could be back any moment, I reminded myself.

Bows finally secured and outfit strapped on tight, I pulled the last piece from my bag and slowly propped it on my head over my horn. There was no mirror to be found in the room, but there was a single steel plate affixed to a corner of the room. It was marred and covered in a thin film of grime, but a few wipes with my overcoat and I could make out a fuzzy caricature looking back.

For some moments I just stood there, staring at the little white unicorn in the expensive dress with the big hat to match her big ears. I remembered that day when Willow bought it, when I was unsure of how to talk to her, and of the fuss I made later.

Minutes or hours, I couldn’t be sure how long I stood there, until a voice broke through from behind. “Well, at least she found someone who can appreciate her taste in clothing.”

I smiled, and my whole body tingled for a moment. I wanted to do something, just go somewhere. For once, Bit and I were here, not being shot at or worried about running out of water, or being blown about in the tumult of the caravan issues, so I wanted to do something.

“Oh Bit, you’re back,” I started. “Great, come on,” I turned around, and caught myself mid-sentence. “Oh, oh my. Let’s, get you into the shower, yeah.” Her mane was a ragged mess, with the normally steely-blue shades muddled and mired in uneven green with strips and bits of something dangling from it and the same with her tail.

I carefully pulled her unstrapped harness from her and carried it to one of the chairs, then shooed Bit off to the basin. Seeing the drops of greyish-green muck left behind where she just walked from, I chose to undo the straps of my outfit quickly and strip from it entirely, and tossed the entire set onto my cot before following her in.

“Let’s get that off you, Bit,” I said, motioning to her underbarding. It was damp and stuck to her coat and feathers as we pulled it off. It hit the ground with a thick plop.

I returned to the shower a moment later, having grabbed some bars of soap and a brush from some bins in the tiled entryway. Bit took one and ran it over her coat and through her mane slowly, while I held her tail and ran the comb and soap through it. Bits of algae and muck fell away in strips, and the blue beneath began to return.

The splashing of the shower was the only sound in the small room. I moved from Bit’s tail to her double-bit cutie mark, and alternated brushing over her coat with a pass of the soap. She peeled her wings away from her side and stretched them out.

For a few moments she just stood like that, staring off while the lukewarm water ran over her mane and face. An idea crossed my mind—something I’d been curious about since Willow mentioned it to me off-hoofedly. I flushed lightly at the idea, but the urge to satisfy the curiosity was overwhelming. I stepped forward along Bit’s side, into the falling water of the showerhead above, and gazed up along the ridge inside her wing.

Small puffy feathers dripped with water, and I leaned in, then ran my tongue across their surface. Bit cooed quietly and leaned against me lightly as I ran my tongue back over her silky down feathers.

Taken in the moment, I nipped at the sensitive skin beneath.

Bit’s reaction was instant, and before I snapped back to awareness, she was hanging from the hosing above, clutching at the swaying rubber with every muscle in her small frame. Her face was contorted in embarrassment, and her flushed features shone under her wet coat.

Her reaction was so sudden, that I was laughing before I realized what had just transpired.

I stepped forward, letting myself be drenched by the water as it sprayed about in different directions, and laughed. I tried to apologize, to explain that I didn’t expect quite that reaction, but she only glared at me.

I turned the shower off, and we returned to our room in silence but for the occasional giggle I couldn’t stifle.

Moments after returning to our room, the day lights gave way with their loud thunk to the night lights. With my outfit stowed away, I pulled out a lovely waxed brush with etched vines like Willow’s cutie mark inlaid into the deep red wood, a gift from Spice, and turned to Bit Flip.

“It’ll fix itself eventually,” she argued, running a hoof clumsily over her mane, as though it would sort itself with the touch of a hoof-combing. “No need to bother, Vitia.”

“Oh, Bit.” I walked up to her, but she leaned back slightly.

“Don’t you ‘Oh, Bit’ me.”

“Go on now, sit. Your tail and mane aren’t going to untangle themselves.” In all the while I’ve known Bit, her mane was always a mess. Water, soap, and letting it dry however seemed to be the extent of the care given to it. Not necessary for the desert to be all prettied up, she would argue. Even when wet, the tips of her mane curled in slightly, and she swished her tail about as I tried to run the comb along it.

“Yer startin’ to sound like Willow,” she said, leaning back and looking up to the ceiling. “Takes me back, though. Willow and I used to fuss an’ tumble about it back then. She’d always want to comb out my mane before the caravan left.”

I ran the brush through and tugged out a small knot. “Don’t you miss it?” Part of me meant to ask if she missed Willow. “I mean, comfort like that?” I pulled the comb through again absently, trying to think of any time she was genuinely comfortable around anypony else, but I came up empty. I simply didn’t know her. “I’ve never seen you take to anypony else. You’ve always been business first.”

Her tone was light and upbeat when she replied, “Ain’t no lover like a fat sack of caps. Or at least, that’s what the caravan would teach us.” She chuckled, then shook her head. “Truthfully though, I wouldn’t even begin to know how.”

I stopped combing and leaned over. She had lowered her head and her expression was almost empty. “After Willow and I fell out,” she continued, “It’s just…I don’t know.”

It looked to me like she knew this was a question she didn’t have an answer for, but had already shoved it aside once, and didn’t know how to approach it anymore. Silence hung in the air for a moment before I did the only thing I thought would help: I leaned over her and wrapped my arms around her.

Beneath her damp coat, I could feel her warmth, and I hoped she could feel mine the same.

After a moment, Bit shrugged and leaned away slightly, then spoke up with a grin, “I see you got yer horn all fixed up,” and without missing a beat, “Bet that’ll make it easier on Willow when she does that horn thing.”

My body flushed all over as I recalled the erotic sensation Willow had teased me with. I broke from the hug and tried to make some witty retort but failed to.

Bit just grinned widely, her eyes shimmering as she knew she won. “Good, payback for earlier.” She shifted and curled her tail under her, then relaxed. “So how’d you end up in Wing Haven back then?”

I exhaled slowly, hoping to quiet the pounding in my chest. In all the time Bit and I were around each other we never came to know the circumstances behind our meetings. “Ah, well,” I started, not sure how to form a coherent thought.

I scooted up closer to Bit and tried to pull her tail out from under her, but she squirmed away. “Much like now, I was searching for Silver Sheen. Had a pretty rough time of it all, honestly.”

I realized that wasn’t much of an answer, and Bit read into it. “Y’don’t have to talk about it if yer not wantin’ to.”

That’s not it, I thought. I just didn’t have the right words. “No, it’s fine. It’s just a bit unpleasant is all, but it’s okay.”

I started my explanation back in Desert’s Edge, where Silver and I were raised, and talked to Bit about Greenhooves and Brightmane. As I furthered my story out past my time in Fleshgrove and Cancy, I glossed over some of the details and never mentioned the Hydra.

“It wasn’t long after that when we met. You pointed your gun at me, if you’ll recall.”

I briefed over my relatively uneventful time in Junction 144. “I found out that Old Fort Celestia kept a lot of information, so I thought I could get something from there. I was completely lost when I made it in, but I was able to get what I was looking for, and found out that Silver’s family used to own some land just outside of the Ridge up top.”

“The next time I saw you, your horn had been sealed and you were caged up there.”

I rolled my head back and stared at the ceiling. “The records I looked at were restricted, and I broke in to get them.”

“And y’got caught. All of that for this one mare, huh? She must be mighty important to you.”

Even I wasn’t sure what all as going on with Silver, so explaining it now seemed hopeless. “She’s been a dear friend most of my life. I’m hoping to speak with her again tomorrow.”

I thought for a moment about the conversation with Silver, and everything about it just seemed wrong. I didn’t understand how somepony could be so different, or how she could have pushed away somepony that meant something to her.

I glanced at my bag and thought to the outfit stowed within. It didn’t matter if Silver didn’t care for me now or even before. She left and shoved away my offer to help, and shrugged off the town that had helped care for her and her ailing parents for decades like it was nothing.

“I’ll find out tomorrow,” I mumbled to myself.

Bit perked her ears, “Hm?”

I shook my head, “Nothing. Enough about my past, though. There’s something I want to know about you, Bit.”

“What is it?”

I considered dropping it and moving on to something else, but I’d already started, so I nodded inwardly and asked, “How did you and Willow get together?”

Her response was slow and halted, “It’s not really something I’m fond of talking about.”

I nodded, scooting forward slightly. I motioned for her to relinquish her tail to my brush-covered hoof, hoping that the distraction would help soothe her nerves. “I did ask her about it. She didn’t say much, just that it was something like young love.”

She turned toward me, with one faded eye and one bright golden staring at me, considering. “You’re not going to drop it, are you?”

I shook my head slowly. “If it bothers you that much, I won’t push you.” I absently ran the brush over my hoof, hoping to find some way to make her feel more at ease. I wanted to help her in any way that I could. I owed her more than I could possibly repay, and I cared for her more than that. She tries to hide her emotions from everypony, even herself.

Bit exhaled sharply, and released her tail. I smiled to myself and pulled it closer, slowly and methodically running the brush through it.

“Young love, that’s not really accurate.” She fidgeted slightly but continued, “It wasn’t long after Hazy, ah, my mother—” Her voice cut abruptly, her trail drooped and she choked out a few syllables.

I continued brushing silently, and a few seconds and a couple sniffles later, she resumed, “Copper was always hooves-off after that.” She paused for a moment, then added almost as if she didn’t mean to say it aloud, “Hell, prickly ol’ Doc was more of a father than he was.”

She paused after that, and let the words hang in the air. I ran the brush through her tail one last time, then scooted up and sat against her side. She looked at me briefly, but I brought the brush through her mane in small tugs.

After this, she tried to find her way, she explained. “I figured that maybe Copper thought me useless or baggage, so I aimed at getting’ my own seat proper. No handouts, no easy rides.”

Riding that uncertain line between being a filly and a mare, her world must have been confusing. “I let business take me from everything.” She stayed silent a moment but swished her tail about slowly, absently. “Drunken tells are the easiest to read, so I found it much easier than expected to start amassing a small fortune at the Church.”

She smiled slightly and paused for a moment, then continued, “Anyway, met Willow quite soon after. I was little more than a filly then, and she was about my age now. We hit it off, but, largely for the wrong reasons.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“She and I didn’t meet by happenstance. I know that now, and maybe I knew then but refused to see it. Her introduction to me was designed. Her duty has always been to the Church long as I’ve known her, but,” she paused with a quiet sigh, “It didn’t matter at the time.”

Bit lowered her head before continuing, “It was an affection thing. Hers was the first kind I’d ever gotten besides Hazy,” she held her breath a moment, “And I mistook that.” She let the breath out slowly, and shifted, “Eventually things turned romantic. A friend—”

The words were becoming harder for her, so I tried to fill in where it made sense. “A companion,” I offered, leaning forward.

She shook her head. “A mother.” She dropped her gaze.

I pulled the brush along the length of her mane slowly. Her words seemed so close yet I could not have put a hoof on them. Brightmane was the closest to a mother I’d ever had, but her affection—I laughed inwardly at using the term for the abrasive mare—was so different from Willow’s, but somehow I could understand. Willow’s affections were so warmly given that you’d be amiss to believe you were not the only pony she’d ever cared for.

“She was caring and affectionate and loving and everything in the caravan that went missing after Hazy,” Bit choked up. “I didn’t understand what it meant for her to be a Daughter at the time.” She spoke like she was reliving the memories still there, like a little filly that just saw her dreams as the reality they were and the world she’d built up collapsed. “I felt betrayed when I saw it. Saw her.”

That was probably the last moment, I thought, that she still held onto the kinds of hopes and dreams a filly has, when already they were slipping from her grasp.

Bits of my teary-eyed moments with Willow when I realized the same would happen came back to me from a week prior, and I leaned against Bit, and we shared the moment quietly but for the quiet buzz of the overhead night lighting.

“I avoided her for a very long time after that,” she said, tone shifting from upset to determined. “I came to terms with it a long time ago, and we’re still friends. But I’m ashamed of it. I regret it. It feels like it happened just yesterday sometimes,” she said, her voice sounding distant. “She’s probably one of the very few ponies in all the Wasteland I trust.”

She took a long breath, then turned and smiled.

“Well then,” I said abruptly, plopping down in front of Bit a little ways and eyed her down. “Yep, you’re like a different mare from when you came back. All the right colors at least,” I giggled.

She looked up and knocked a single strand aside, then shrugged. “It’s just going to get messy tomorrow.”

An idea came to mind quickly, and I crossed over to her harness. I dug through a few pockets before coming across the small pouch of bobby pins. When I turned, I saw a twist of annoyance on Bit’s face, but I played it off. “Not like you use these anyway, right?”

It took a few moments to clasp her mane with them, and she fussed the entire time. Privacy, she grumped.

The last pin in place, I stepped back and nodded my own approval. “That should hold for at least a while.”

Bit Flip looked up, her eyebrows scrunched, and shrugged.

First Light came the next morning with the same rushed fervor as it had the day before, and the small group of ponies were gathered around the tables, packing their medical kits and dressing in the white coats around Scope’s bay. Patch saw me as I entered, and waved me over.

“You sleep well?”

“I could certainly go for a few more hours,” I yawned, “But it’s fine.”

“Good,” she said. “You’ll be with me today, like yesterday, at least for our first rounds. Scope said you shouldn’t push yourself too hard just yet, so unless something major comes along, we’ll take it easy today.”

“That’s good,” I admitted. “I haven’t seen much useful practice since my horn got sealed up, so it’s been a while.”

We made our way leisurely around the first stops, which seemed routine to Patch. The ponies we met with all smiled and made small talk with Patch, who introduced me in turn. Unit after unit, the citizens of the Ridge seemed to have suffered no remarkable damage or unusual symptoms overnight, so soon Patch and I began to wander to further, less visited locations.

We took a break for an early lunch, and between munches of crisp spinach leaves and the petals of some yellow plant which tasted strangely sweet, I inquired about the detainment Frolic had mentioned the day before.

Patch took a deep breath then sighed. “This community—we survive only because everypony works. We have teachers here, many that work cleaning or tending, engineering, and there are a few that do maintenance or security. As always, Buff Aloe has worked out a solution for most of our problems, but sometimes,” she paused, “Some ponies can’t fit in.”

“The gardens look to be sufficient for supplying hundreds, but I’ve not seen so many around. Surely some ponies just don’t fit in because their talents lie somewhere that there isn’t a job for? At least, not yet.”

Patch cocked an eyebrow and tilted her head, “Not more than a day and you’ve already started on the politics of our home?”

Patch’s tone was edgy, and I realized it seemed as though I criticized her way of life, so I quickly moved on. “So what for those, then?”

Patch pushed her empty tray forward, and rested her hooves on the concrete table. “They go to detainment, and Buff Aloe decides what to do with them after much deliberation and consideration. It’s none of our business after that.”

Something didn’t sit right with her explanation, but I chose not to pursue it, given the foul tone she had adopted. “Well, I just heard about it, so I was curious, that’s all.” I tried shifting the conversation but Patch seemed to have lost her mood for talking, and we walked to the next stops in uncomfortable silence, where at each she spoke openly to the different ponies, then fell to silence after.

A short while later, we came across a young colt who was in a small, mostly empty housing area, fussing with a mare some years younger than myself over his swollen ankle. He had been roughhousing as the youths are wont to do, and caught his hoof in the steel grating. The flesh around his ankle had swollen and became discolored, but the pain he felt was only mild.

Patch was an earth pony, and I was a unicorn that couldn’t use her magic, so the only diagnosis I could make on-scene was with considerable uncertainty. My brows furrowed at the notion of an incomplete assessment, and I took a deep breath, ready to try something I hadn’t been able to for weeks.

I closed my eyes, clenched my teeth, and willed a spell into being. Magic swelled at the base of my horn, which sent shivers of pain through my head and into my eyes. As I willed the magic onward, the pain intensified in great strides, and as the conduit flared to life and the light pink of my magic aura began to come to life, I lost control completely and fell to the ground.

My vision was hazy, and I forced my eyes closed to shield myself from the flaming coals of the light. My senses burned, and breathing was difficult. I made to my hooves once more and trembled as the pain receded.

“Vitia,” Patch glowered quietly.

Eyes still closed, I nodded. “I’m sorry, I wanted to try. My initial diagnosis is that it’s just a sprain, but we’ll need some way to check for broken bones.”

Patch agreed. “Just a moment, and I’ll radio in for a transport. Keen or Doctor Scope will probably take over from there. In the meantime,” she added, unhooking a kit from her saddle and setting it near me, “Splint it up.”

My sight slowly came back to me, and after a few clumsy minutes, I was able to fasten the stiff harness onto the youth’s hoof, and secured several thin steel rods into that. Patch assured the young mother that it probably wasn’t anything to be worried about, then turned to me. “This was the last stop today. I’ll stay here for transport, but I don’t see any reason for us both to be here. Go take a rest. First Light tomorrow.”

“Are you sure? It’s no problem,” I started.

“You and I both know we don’t both need to be here. It’s okay,” she smiled, “Go get some grub and get some of that sleep you missed out on last night.”

I nodded and quietly made my way out. My horn throbbed and the two remaining pins ached, and I silently chided myself over the different things I’d bungled that day. I knew not to try to use magic, and the situation wasn’t so severe that it warranted it, but I was impatient, and I wanted to know if I still could.

And I still learned nothing that could help me with Silver.

Without noticing, I found myself turning into a hall with a light green stripe along its rail, and four vertical slashes of green paint on both sides of the wall near the entrance.

I hesitated, then pushed on. Even if nothing had changed since the day before, I couldn’t just stand by when she was so close. Time is limited, I reminded myself.

The door slid away and I stepped into the misty room beyond. Nothing had changed since the day before, but after half an hour of wandering the aisles, I realized that I was alone in the room. I checked in the small inlet rooms at the mid-point and end-point of the garden, but both of those were empty as well.

I walked around once more, then decided to wait, so I stepped into the hall and sat down against the moist brick wall. The seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes piled on.

I awoke from a nudge, and rubbed my sore eyes, trying to focus on the lavender mare in front of me. “Lilac?”

“Lily. So you must be Vitia. What are you doing all the way on this side of the Ridge? I thought you were a medic.”

I made to my hooves and stood half a head shorter than the other mare. Her mane, like her sister’s, was silver but woven together in a circular braid along one side and fitted into thin braids the rest of the way down, as was her tail.

“I was looking for somepony,” I explained. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep in the way.”

“That’s not a problem. So who was it, then, that you were looking for? I know most everypony here, and certainly everypony in the gardens.”

“Yesterday, Silver Sheen was here, but it’s empty now.”

Lily’s bright expression faded. Her smile became forced but her eyes betrayed her emotions. “Ah, yes,” she said, averting her gaze and staring absently at the door behind me. “Well, I haven’t seen her today. She’s probably in detainment now, waiting for word from Buff Aloe.” She turned her gaze back to me, “But what do you need with her?”

“I’d like to talk to her,” I explained. “I actually knew her from before she came here, but I haven’t had much chance. Can I talk to her in detainment?”

“Oh goodness, no. But I don’t know if she has been sent there or not. She could still be in her room.”

Lily gave me directions and a number, so I thanked her and quickly made my way there. My stomach was unsettled and agitation had me moving at a brisk canter.

I turned the corners and galloped through the skinny halls before finally coming to the designated room. I tapped hurriedly on the edge of the metal frame aside the curtain-door.

Silence.

I tapped again. “Silver, it’s me, Vitia. Are you there?”

“What do you want?”

A great relief washed over me. I didn’t know exactly what detainment was supposed to be, but the awkward tones and hushed nature of the ponies that have mentioned it had me on edge. Silver was right there, and I wasn’t about to see her disappear from my sight again.

“I just want to talk. To catch up. So much has happened, Silver, and I want to know.”

The curtain was flung aside, and Silver’s scowling face met mine, but the sheer force of her expression caused me to pin my ears back and shrink away. “To catch up? Like what, nothing happened?” She stepped into the hall, her presence enormous despite her small frame, then after a deep breath she turned back to her room. “Fine,” she spat. “You want to talk, I’ll let you waste your breath.”

I rubbed my horn gently. What happened to Silver? She was never angry, never shouted, and was always the kindest and gentlest pony I’d known. That anyone in Desert’s Edge knew.

I meekly entered her sparse room. Nothing but a cot and a worn table missing a leg decorated the place. It was so unlike her home at Desert’s Edge, which was filled with knickknacks, small desert plants in pots she traded eagerly for, and pictures and drawings of her friends and family hanging from every open space. But here, nothing.

“So?” she hissed impatiently. “You come rushing here like I was about to die, and now you’re silent?”

“I thought you might have been taken to detainment.”

She clicked her teeth and crossed her legs. “So that’s what you wanted? To come badger me like everyone else?”

“That’s not it at all! I was worried.”

She kept her gaze averted and her expression slate. “Is that it?”

“Come on, Silver,” I pleaded. “Why are you being like this? What happened? You’ve done nothing but yell at me and everypony else.”

She glared at me with that steely expression I’d never have envisioned her able to have. More worryingly, it seemed comfortable on her face. “Everything happened. You know, my parents didn’t make the trip.”

I held my head low. “I’m sorry.”

“But I continued here,” she said. “Because that’s what they were going to do, so I aimed to see their last desire through. It wasn’t easy, you know. We only had enough money to be escorted to Junction 144, and it’s not like I had anything else.”

“144’s not a bad place to be,” I added.

She glared at me. “I shouldn’t imagine it’d be bad for you. You probably just went to the bar, flirted with some mare and fucked her to get an easy ride anywhere you needed to go, huh?”

I was genuinely shocked. Was that what Silver thought of me?

“I wasn’t so lucky, you see. Too trusting, I guess. I thought I found someponies that’d help me out, but all they wanted was my tail and even then it wasn’t enough!” She slammed a hoof on the table. “No, I had to do whatever it took to get passage. And there’s no place for someone like me outside of Desert’s Edge, it seems!”

She continued, pacing the room. “I made it here, though, tail-sore and humiliated, but those would fade. I expected, I don’t know, something, but whatever it was, it wasn’t this.” She hissed and bucked the stone wall. “I’ve been moved all around, you know. The nursery, the school, the cafeteria, but I made a mess out of everything, so my last chance was the gardens.”

“But your cutie mark—”

“Doesn’t mean anything useful!” She slapped the bright red rose mark harshly. “But my job was easy enough. Just check for infections or malnutrition, rot, that sort of thing. Then you came along, and I messed even that up!”

“Me? I just wanted to see you—”

“And you did. Congratulations. Now I’m in here waiting for the great Buff Aloe,” she hissed, “To come and deliver his divine judgment upon me. To be sold for slavers or have my tongue cut out and released topside, or who knows what! Maybe he’ll keep me on if I become his personal fucktoy!”

“Silver!” I shot up. “Get a hold of yourself! You think you’re the only one that has problems?” I wasn’t angry, or even particularly upset, but I knew if things kept on as they were this second chance would be a disaster. And there may not be a third.

She glared with her deep amber eyes, but I would not back down to that expression now. “The Marejave isn’t an easy place to be for anypony. I almost died of dehydration in my first days out. I was nearly sold into a ghoul sex ring and beaten to death by a crazed bitch of a mare. I was dosed with so much radiation I’m probably not even entirely a pony anymore! I had my magic taken from me!”

“Good for you, then!” she shot back. “You went through worse things than I did. Congratulations.”

“It’s not a contest, Silver. I’m just an example. What happened to you must have been terrible. What happened to me was. I’ve seen terrible things happen to good ponies like you who never deserved any of it.”

She had averted her gaze while I continued, “But it’s not all bad, Silver. I found you again, and I’ve met so many other wonderful people on my way here.”

I tried to close the distance between us, but she pushed me away and screamed, “This is all your fault! I begged and pleaded my parents to stay at Desert’s Edge, because I didn’t know how to leave you,” she admitted. “I screwed up and slept with you so I didn’t know what to do. So when they finally had to leave, they were too weak to make the trip. Because of you,” she turned to me, “They didn’t make it. If they had, it’d all be different!”

“Silver, listen to yourself.”

“I’m not wrong!” she insisted. Her anger gave way to frustration, and she softly butted her head against the cold stone wall before slumping down and weeping. “I’m not wrong.”

Silence hung in the air for several minutes, broken only by an occasional sniffle from the silver and blue heap of pony in the corner.

“You can blame me if it makes you feel better,” I offered, “But it isn’t the way it is.”

“I know,” she whimpered. “I just thought, if I did have somepony I could blame, it’d make it all easier to cope with.”

“It’s never easy. But, you could have told me,” I said.

“Told you what?”

“That me didn’t care for me like I did for you. I know that now, but I still don’t understand why you slept with me considering. What you did is unfair. I’m not angry, though, even if it didn’t mean anything to you.”

The room was again silent but for the murmuring of crowds in the distance and the shaking of ventilation above us.

“I felt bad,” she admitted.

“About what?”

“For you. Everypony knew, even I knew, that you wanted me, but you were just a friend. Finally, I gave in. ‘How bad can it be?’ I thought. Everypony in town already thought we were sleeping together, and you acted like we were, so it seemed pointless. May as well, right?”

I shook my head slowly, absently. One question was answered, but I still had one more pressing. “Why didn’t you let me come with you?”

“You may think that we were really something, like two inseparable lovers, but it wasn’t the same for me. To me, you were…Just somepony to pass the time with, when all I wanted was a friend. You weren’t that, not the right way, so I didn’t want you to come. I wanted to get away from you.”

Somehow I knew that was what the result of this all would be. I didn’t desire to return to what we had before, but the nagging voice at the corner of my mind finally shut up when she said those words.

But that was over now, and it didn’t matter. It wasn’t something I needed to be bothered by, so I just pushed the emotions aside, and found it easy to do. Thanks to Willow, I had already put all of the feelings I once harbored for her into a box, and just needed the key to seal it up.

I moved over to the shuddering pony and wrapped my arm around her. “You don’t have to stay here.”

“I don’t have anywhere I can go. I don’t belong anywhere.”

I patted her mane, and offered her a way out. “You can come with us. Just until you find your own way.”

She rubbed a cheek and turned to me. “Why? I don’t understand. I hated you, blamed you for everything, and wanted you to hate me back. That’d have made this so much easier,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Everything changes. I can’t hate you, because I still have too many fond memories of us together. Remember that time when we tied Greenhooves’ braids to that mare—what was her name, that orange one?”

“Summer.”

“Ah, that’s right! They had a drinking contest and both lost and passed out, so we tied his braids around her.”

“Poor Summer,” she chuckled.

“When Greenhooves woke up, he was still so drunk he didn’t realize he was dragging her around until he was stopped in town.”

Silver Sheen nodded and laughed. “Or that time you changed the security codes on the east gate, and we snuck out to go play on the shore.”

“I got in a lot of trouble for that one,” I admitted. “Really thought I did a good job hiding my tracks but a bright white and blue unicorn stands out, apparently.”

We offered stories of our past together, recounting the many great moments we shared. Our forays through the back canyons; our times pulling pranks on travelers; the little games two fillies come up with to pass time; the failed cooking experiments.

We were interrupted when the overhead lights changed to night lights. We had talked for hours without realizing.

“I suppose I better get back,” I said. I hugged Silver gently, then stepped to the door. “Being here, this isn’t your only option. I’ll give you another.” I slipped out and closed the curtain gently.

My steps were light on the concrete walkways, and I stood tall for what felt like the first time in a month. Silver got her feelings out, and I said my piece. Not everything was perfect, since this would be yet another night not in Willow’s embrace, and I couldn’t use my magic, but I felt more relieved than in recent memory.

I would sleep well that night.

Bit Flip and I had a plan. We needed to get out of the Ridge quickly, and there seemed to be only one path we could take.

After dressing myself up in the outfit Willow bought for me, and a good luck nod from Bit Flip, I made my way down the halls, following the directions of some of the stragglers soon after First Light.

We had a plan, and it all hinged on if I could pull this off. I fretted nervously as I approached the door. I stood in front of it for several minutes, breathing in and out slowly, reciting Spice’s words, and recalling the slick and deft movements of Willow.

Eyes closed, I adjusted the lacy panties down slightly, and swayed my tail slightly higher than normal. I ran a hoof along the bows along my chest and straightened my hat, then I knocked on the frame.

Be confident.

The brown youth opened the door moments later, and his eyes grew wide in sudden surprise.

“Just the stallion I was looking for,” I cooed, inviting myself in with a spring and sway. “I do hope you’re not busy with anything.” Start strong, never let up. Never give him a chance to take control.

Frolic glanced from me to the hall and back, confused. “Uh, no, I guess I’m not.”

“Oh good,” I sighed. “Listen, I’m going to cut right to it. I need a favor.”

Frolic stopped some feet from me and sat slowly. “What kind of favor?”

“To be honest, I’m not one for being cooped up like this. I need some fresh air, and some sunlight. Now I know it’s dangerous, but that’s why I came to you. You’ve been up there in that crazy town a bunch, right?”

The mock flattery seemed to have an effect, as he opened his posture slightly and smiled. “Oh yeah. More times than I can count.”

I pranced forward lightly, stopping inches from him, and looked up into his eyes. “Well then, you wouldn’t mind showing me around for a bit, would you?” I turned away from him, letting my tail run its length across his neck and chest. “It could be fun.”

Stay confident. Spice showed you, you can do this, I repeated to myself. I swayed my tail slowly, baring the slightest hints of me for a brief moment as if unintentionally, then turned back around and faced the young stallion.

“Well,” he coughed, “Normally I wouldn’t see a problem with a quick look around one of the safehouses, but it’s not really a good time.”

I scrunched my eyebrows and pursed my lips in an exaggerated pout. “How come?”

“Uh, I can’t—I’m not supposed to say. Just that it’s not a good idea.” He cleared his throat and continued with his usual bravado, “There are plenty of places here that would just as good for, well.” He closed the sentence with a sly grin.

I don’t want that, damn it. I shooed away those thoughts, and quickly tried to think of something I could use. I hesitated, as nothing came to mind. Time was ticking away and the longer I waited, the worse proceeding would become, so I faked a smile and chose the only plan I had left, the one I didn’t want. Do what you have to, if that’s what it takes.

“Oh come now,” I teased, rolling my eyes, “Are you just playing daft to tease me?”

Frolic sputtered a bit, but before he could form something coherent, I had slid up to him and ran my hoof over his collar, across his shoulder, and slowly along his side. I made a quick pass over his cutie mark, a grey montage of shapes and items atop a large but dull gear, and slowly moved my hoof down his thigh and followed the curve inside. I lifted my tail slowly and wrapped it gently across his chest as my hoof moved ever inward slowly.

I could feel him relax and ease into the motion, leaning against me, eager to let my hoof find its way to the intended hardness beneath, but I pulled back and bumped his side with mine, and let out a quiet giggle. Just tease, but don’t go all in. Don’t let it go too far.

Turning back to him, “I know you were getting an eyeful yesterday, you dirty colt,” I teased. And I nodded with a sly grin at his current arousal, “And you can’t say I’m not wrong about at least that.”

“Come on,” I continued, trying to keep the pace of the play high and him off-balance, “What say you get my friend and me a few moments up top, hm?” I stood shoulder to shoulder with him, leaning my face close in with his, and swaying my tail across his side, legs, and purposefully against his erection. “And I tell you what, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Frolic’s arousal had tinted his brown-cheeks with a light shade of red. I hoped it would be enough to muddle his mind, but I also feared in his current state he might insist on payment first. I didn’t know if I could go through with it, if he did.

I didn’t have much time to consider, as he quickly turned and pressed his face against mine. Don’t fight, Vitia, I repeated to myself, returning the clumsy plays of his tongue with mine. You knew this could happen.

After a few excited moments he broke from the kiss, and I took the chance to shift away, but he pulled at me and we tumbled onto his bed. I landed atop him, and he held me down gently. Little whispers in my head of no, no, no started to get louder. It’s not too late, it’s not too far. You can still do this. Go with it, but get back in control.

“Now, now,” I teased, keeping my face a hair’s breadth from his. As I leaned up slightly, he pressed against me, and I felt my forced smile falter as panic briefly took over. I nuzzled against him to cover my shaking lips, and began to speak hurriedly. “I don’t mind a little horseplay,” I said, pecking at his lips and nipping along his neck, “But you can’t have the dessert before the main course.”

I shifted my weight atop him slightly, moving from my hips as I sat straight, trying to coax him into relinquishing his grasp on me. The shuffling motions brought a grin to his face, and some more movement from his hips against mine, but he let me slide free and move off the bed. He sat up slightly, brazenly aroused, with a coy grin.

I yelled inwardly at myself to keep it together, but I could feel myself losing grasp on my emotions and the situation. I feared I had taken it too far, underestimated his eagerness, and had pushed myself into a corner with no way out.

“You’ll do it?” I asked, trying to close as quickly as I could.

He let out an exaggerated breath, then just as slowly spoke, “I don’t know.” He ran one hoof along the side of his shaft and looked at me, “It’s a mighty big favor, and you weren’t very nice to me before.”

I could see the exits in the conversation fading, and my chest hurt from my pounding heart. I swallowed with some effort, and looked to the doorway. It was just a few steps away. I could be out of there and away to safety, free to think of another way. There is no other way, I reminded myself. My lips trembled.

“You know what I’m getting at?” Frolic’s voice was sure, and confident. Not boisterous and overly energetic, but certain. He had the upperhoof now. “And I’m a practical kind of stallion. I’d rather have something for sure now than the promise of something later.”

The door was right there. Silver could die, and the last thing you’ll have ever said is that you’d save her. Save her? How can you save anypony if you are standing here, shaking? I felt a stinging in my eyes.

I bit my lip, considered the door…and turned to the youth. My last chance was gone, but I had to. “Oh I’m sure I can think of a few things that might be just what you’re getting at.”

The little pony in my head cried. She cried, since I couldn’t let myself. I fought back the tears, and held back my queasiness.

The line had been crossed, and I found myself with no choice but to go all in. I moved my lips from the youth’s down his neck, chest, and ever downward.

Whatever it takes now.

With one last fake smile and a parting wink, the door shut behind me.

My legs shook and my heart was beating furiously, but I bit my lip and trotted down the hall, around the first bend, through the next hall, and was forced to a stop as my legs gave out.

Tears ran down my cheeks and my chest heaved in heavy sobs. Everything about me felt wrong, felt dirty, and I felt for that time as if I had betrayed Willow. My stomach twisted and lurched, expelling bile and the youth’s sperm.

I stood, leaning against the railing, and slowly made my way back to Bit Flip. Each forced, uneven step brought with it soreness deep in my marehood, and a reminder of the wet, uncomfortable seed that now seeped from it.

Tck, tck…tck…tck, tck, my hoofsteps sounded through the empty halls. I could only hope it was worth it.

——