Fallout Equestria: The Sickness Within

Chapter 14: Absence

"I'm sorry....I should've told you all about 'em sooner."

*****

The same dream.

Rain.

Thunder.

Flashes of light.

His hooves were slick with mud. His coat, drenched.

Figures. Faces. Glimpses of them through sheets of water.

“It’s alright there, son. You’ll get through.”

“Oh look. It’s that stupid buck. Looks like he messed everything up again.”

“Dat it, mutt? Turnin’ traitor on us?”

"Fuck! It's the freak!"

"Pony?"

A gunshot. The heavy splurch of somepony falling into the mud.

A flash of lightning.

A silhouette. Large. Unmoving.

The echo of a weak, raspy voice.

“Take care of them for me, alright?”

Another flash.

The distant rumble of thunder.

The sound of crying. Tears. Numbness. Pain.

Darkness.

*****

“—Happy?”

The gray buck blinked, the fog fading from his vision.

His mind had been wandering again.

He glanced up, meeting Serenity’s eyes.

He’d only fallen a few paces behind her, but given the rockier terrain in these parts, she was already almost out of sight. She'd stopped at the bend in the road just ahead, glancing back at him from around one of the craggy rock faces surrounding them.

The yellow unicorn tilted her head, her braided mane shifting along her back with the motion. She’d opted for her usual trader fatigues, today—the same pocketed, vest and red shirt she wore most of the time when she was in Creek Bend.

"You coming?"

Happy shook his head, nodding up at the mare a moment later. The collar of his spare jumpsuit shifted on his shoulders as he did.

“Mm. I...am.”

Serenity raised an eyebrow.

“Just making sure. You seem a little out of it today.”

“...sorry…”

Happy could see a wry smile break over Serenity’s face. Trotting back over to his side, she lifted a hoof to his shoulder, his body tensing slightly at the touch. Her blue-green eyes stared into his with a hint of concern.

“It’s nothing you have to be sorry for, Happy. I’m just worried about you. That’s all.”

Happy nodded slowly, not quite meeting the mare’s gaze.

“...sorry…”

The mare sighed, lifting her hoof off of Happy’s shoulder to tousle his mane.

“Hey. That’s enough apologizing for now. Okay? We haven’t had a chance to go for a walk in a while. Let’s enjoy it.”

Happy met her gaze, nodding slowly.

“Mm. All...right.”

He could see another smile—warmer this time—break over the mare's face.

“Mm. That’s better. Let’s get moving. I told Valentine we’d be back in time for dinner.”

Happy nodded again, watching the yellow unicorn start back up the road ahead. He followed after, trailing a length behind.

Though the path was wide enough for the two of them to walk side by side, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Serenity hadn’t brought it up, either.

Happy knew that she had probably noticed, but she seemed to be leaving the decision to him. Even now, he could see she was keeping to the left side of the trail, leaving enough space for him to trot alongside her if he changed his mind.

Happy could feel a small pang in his chest at the thought.

He didn’t deserve to be there. Standing next to her. Or even spending time with her like this at all.

The buck shook his head, maintaining his pace.

It was mid-afternoon, the hazy air around them tinted brown beneath the gray sky. Though it had rained the last few days, the ground was starting to dry out once more. Happy could see a bit of dust kicking up at his hooves as he walked, the scent of dry earth rising up with it.

The meetup "date" that the two of them had planned for the previous night had ended up getting postponed. There'd been a bit of confusion at the depot after the Bronco City shipment had been taken care of—something to do with a few invoicing errors one of the new hires had made. It had been well past sunset by the time Serenity had shown up at the bunkhouse, an apologetic look on her face.

Happy frowned.

Though he felt bad remembering it, he’d actually been relieved at the time. Maybe she would end up too busy to spend time together before she had to leave again.

When she'd suggested they take a day trip to the Red Racer outpost today instead—the one they'd never gotten around to before—he'd wanted to say no. But the look on the mare's face had made it impossible.

Concern. Worry. Happy knew that it was because of him that she was making those kinds of faces. That she felt responsible for him, even after all she'd done for him up until now.

He glanced back up at Serenity on the road ahead, looking her over with sullen eyes.

The fact she worried that much about him only made it hurt all the worse.

Another ten minutes passed. Twenty. Half an hour.

The path to the outpost, though even enough, was winding, switching back on itself at regular intervals. Happy himself hadn't spent much time this far south of the settlement. Given how rocky the area was—almost badlands-like—he could see why most of Creek Bend's trade routes arced out to the north, east, and west.

“Ah! Happy! That’s it up ahead. You see it?”

Happy glanced up, watching as Serenity turned back to meet his gaze. He could see her point a hoof down the path ahead, which seemed to end in a wiry mess of briars at the mouth of a narrow pass.

Squinting, Happy could make out the hazy silhouette of a building's edge just beyond the opening, the better part of it obscured from his angle. Trotting a couple hooves forward, he could make out a bit more of the small structure's profile—its wide, round windows faintly scorched and devoid of glass. It was boxier than the diners and fueling stations that dotted the highways to the west. It seemed to have its own small parking lot around the front, a few burnt carriage husks visible from where he stood.

Smiling as he approached, Serenity nodded, motioning back to the narrow pass.

"Try not to get caught up on the brush up ahead. The thorns are sharper than they look."

"Mm. I'll be...careful."

Following behind, Happy watched as Serenity trotted over to the side of the pass, gingerly pressing a hoof against one of the briar boughs, pushing it flat to the ground. Slowly stepping forward, she shifted the weight of her hindhoof onto it in place of her forehoof, holding it down for Happy as she nodded him forward.

Happy nodded in return, trotting a few steps closer. He could feel a faint warmth rise in his cheeks as he approached—the awkward angle bringing him close to the mare as he reached around her with a foreleg. Placing his hoof down on the bough just behind hers, he winced as he brushed up against one of the nearby branches, the sharp spines poking through the shoulder of his jumpsuit and into his hide.

He could see Serenity glance back, wincing as well.

"You alright, Happy?"

Happy could feel the warmth in his cheeks grow as he averted his eyes, nodding again.

"It's...alright. Just a...scratch."

The mare replied with a soft smile.

"Just watch out for the rest of them, okay?"

"Mm."

Following as the mare pushed down the next couple boughs in front of them, Happy managed to make it through the rest of the way without further incident, some of his tension fading as Serenity pulled a couple steps ahead of him. Following her out beyond the brush, he glanced around, taking in the sight of their surroundings.

The building here was nestled into the middle of a shallow, half circle clearing, the terrain here graded and flat. The remnants of an empty highway stretched out to either direction on the flat edge of the circle, winding and cutting through the craggy rockscape on either side where it disappeared.

Now that they were this close, Happy could make out the shape of a fifteen hoof tall, weathered red scooter perched atop the building's roof. Though rusted and faded, it was still largely intact, its four black-edged, white-rimmed wheels looking as if they could coast right off the roof if somepony were to give it a push.

Continuing to follow as Serenity led the way to the front lot, Happy could see a number of smaller replicas of the giant scooter—foal-sized ones—dotting the grounds. Most were rusted and broken, but a few of them looked like they might have been fixed up at one point. He could see rough looking welds and lengths of ropes and wood scraps holding some of them together. One or two even had wheels that looked like they'd been cobbled together out of aluminum cans and twine.

For a brief moment, Happy could feel a sudden urge to hop onto one of them, his eyes widening as a small smile lit his lips. He could imagine propelling himself forward on one of the tiny, foal-sized scooters, mane flapping in the wind behind him.

Taking a step forward, though, Happy paused, blinking twice and shaking his head as he pushed the impulse away.

He still felt them, sometimes. Fragments of his past self. Thoughts. Urges. Feelings. They came and went, despite his best efforts to push them back.

Glancing up, Happy could see Serenity staring out over the lot, a small, nostalgic smile on her lips. Turning back to face the buck, she nodded toward one of the patched-up scooters at his hooves.

“Gilly and I used to come out here when she was younger. Sometimes with a few of her friends, too.”

She smiled again, placing a hoof on the handle of the scooter closest to her.

“This place was our little hideout. Not a secret or anything. Just somewhere we could play around and have some fun. The scooters were kind of small for me even then, though. Gilly probably had more fun with them than anypony else.”

Her smile dimmed slightly, her eyes shifting down to her hooves.

“Red and Valentine even came out with us every once and awhile. Gilly used to really like this place.”

Happy didn’t respond. He could see Serenity continue to stare at the scooter, absently brushing her hoof against its frame. The mare’s eyes looked more tired than they had back in town. When they’d started their walk.

There were fewer distractions here. Fewer things to keep her thoughts busy with.

Happy’s gaze drifted down to his own hooves.

He’d seen that look in her eyes often. When they were alone together. When she didn’t have the caravan keeping her busy.

He shifted his hooves beneath him.

Seeing it hurt every time.

Sensing movement out of the corner of his eye, Happy glanced back up. He could see Serenity shake her head, looking back in his direction with a small smile.

“Do you have any memories like that, Happy?”

Happy frowned. Even with the smile, the tired look in the mare’s eyes remained.

Trying to hide his own discomfort, he shook his head.

“Not…really..."

Happy scratched the back of his neck, glancing down at his hooves.

"It's...hard to...remember.”

Serenity's smile softened. Giving Happy a small nod, she trotted over to his side. Taking a seat on her haunches beside him, she tapped the ground, motioning for him to sit.

Another faint warmth rising in his cheeks, he nodded, averting his gaze as he sat down beside her. A moment later, he could feel her head lean in against his shoulder, his form tensing at the sudden sensation of the mare's warmth.

Happy could feel another pang of guilt settle back into his chest along with the weight on his shoulder. He stared numbly at his hooves.

Here she was. Again. Comforting him. Worrying for him.

A few moments later, he could feel Serenity lift her head back up. Turning, he could see her flash him another smile as she met his eyes. A bit of her usual, cheerful demeanor had returned.

"So. How are things going at the depot? Getting along with the new hires?"

Happy nodded, shifting a bit as he felt her shoulder brush up against his.

“Mm. I...think so.”

“Showing them the ropes?”

He nodded again.

“Mm. I...guess.”

The mare smiled.

“That’s good. I’m sure having a set of old hooves around to explain things helps."

She tilted her head to the side, raising an eyebrow.

"The new building still holding up alright? Not too small? I know we’ve been getting a lot of shipments in lately.”

Happy shook his head.

“It’s...alright. There’s still...space for...more things.”

Serenity smiled.

“Good. I’m glad we spared the extra caps on the loft. It would have been a lot more work to add in later. I was actually talking to Warehouse about putting up another supply shed so we wouldn’t have to worry about—”

Happy nodded, listening to Serenity's words as she continued on. Listening was easier for him than talking, and hearing Serenity speak, seeing her smile—if only for the moment—still brought warmth to his chest. A brief respite from the feelings of guilt and regret he usually felt in her presence.

The way she talked. The way she laughed. The way she acknowledged every little contribution other ponies made in her stories. Serenity was a good pony through and through.

Everything she did, she did with everypony in mind. Creek Bend was her family. She cared for them. Watched out for them. Trusted them. Happy included.

The buck winced at the thought, the briefly buried feelings once again rising in his chest.

Yes. She cared for him. Watched out for him. Trusted him.

Happy could feel his eyes cloud over, the mare's voice slowly fading in his ears.

And that...that’s what hurt the most.

***

“Serenity? Happy? Everything is ready if you are.”

Glancing up from the rug beneath him, Happy could see Valentine staring back at him and Serenity through the doorway. Smiling at the two of them sitting together in the living room, she gave a little wave, her coiffed, red mane shifting with the movement.

“Feel free to eat as much as you’d like. I made extra for the two of you.”

At his side, Serenity smile back and nodded, rising to her hooves.

“Thanks Valentine. Appreciate you going out of your way for us.”

Happy rose to his hooves as well, nodding quietly.

“Mm. Thank...you.”

Valentine smiled, replying with a small nod of her own before motioning to the kitchen behind her.

“Take a seat wherever you’d like. I’ll see about getting Gilly from her room.”

Happy could see the purple mare smile again as she walked past, trotting down the short hallway that led to the two rooms on the other side of the house. He could already smell the food from here in the living room—the scent of cooked vegetables wafting through the air. The sweet tang of cherry pie drifted in along with it.

Despite the smell of Valentine's dinner and the fact he hadn't eaten today, Happy still didn't feel hungry. There was a certain stillness in the air—an uncomfortable quiet—that made it difficult to keep his thoughts from wandering. Following behind Serenity, he made his way into the kitchen, the two of them taking their usual seats on the bench on the far side of the table.

Two sets of plates and silverware had been put out in front of their bench, as well as the bench across from them, where Gilly and Valentine usually sat. The last seat—a large stool—sat empty at the head of the table.

Happy could see Serenity briefly glance at the empty seat, her eyes going distant for a moment before she seemed to notice his gaze. Shaking her head, she gave him a small smile, nodding toward the table before them. Steam was rising off the mishmash of ceramic and aluminum containers set out before them—mashed tatoes, carrot casserole, and hayflower soup all fresh from the oven and stovetop.

“Hey. Better not get distracted. I might just not leave anything behind for you to eat if you do.”

The mare poked him playfully in the side, grinning.

“You’re looking a little thin, lately, Happy. Doesn’t a warehouse stallion need a little muscle on him to get his work done?”

Happy nodded, offering an awkward smile of his own. She didn't seem to notice he'd caught sight of her earlier expression, and he didn't want to bring it up if he didn't have to. The least he could do was try to keep her mind off things.

“Mm. Sorry. Could you...pass the...tatoes?”

The mare smiled.

“Sure.”

The two spent a few moments filling their plates, the sound of scraping utensils echoing across the quiet room. As Happy set down the plate of steamed silt beans, he could hear hoofsteps from the living room as Valentine appeared in the doorway once more.

The older mare offered the two of them another smile.

“Gilly should be in in a few minutes. Everything alright here?”

Serenity nodded from Happy’s side.

“Mm. Everything looks great, Valentine. Happy and I were just about to dig in.”

The older mare nodded.

“I’m happy to hear it, dear."

She turned to Happy.

"Everything alright for you too, dear? I know you’re not a fan of oats, so I went with hayflower soup instead.”

Happy nodded in turn.

“Mm. Thank you...Valentine. Everything looks...good.”

The older mare replied with a gentle smile. Happy could feel his expression waver. Like Serenity, Valentine was always going out her way to look out for him. Being considerate. Making sure he felt at home.

“Glad to hear, dear.”

Trotting into the room, Valentine took a seat opposite Serenity, lifting Gilly’s plate from the mat at her side as she started to scoop some of the tatoes up onto it. Her gaze shifted back up to the two of them, her soft smile warm and welcoming.

“So how was your day trip? Didn’t run into anything too dangerous, I hope?”

Serenity smiled across from her, red light shimmering around her horn as she helped steady the plate in Valentine's grasp.

“Nothing too bad. A couple of geckos popped up on the way back, but a few shots seemed to scare them off.”

Valentine raised an eyebrow.

“Mm? Really? I’m glad to hear the two of you made it back in one piece.”

Serenity smiled, nodding.

“Mm. It was a nice trip, all and all. Looks like the old place is still holding up. There were a couple signs of scavvers passing through—a few burnt out fire rings and broken plates—but nothing else otherwise.”

Valentine paused, tilting her head to the side as she reached for the spatula resting next to the casserole.

"Scavvers? Do you think we need somepony out there to keep an eye on things?"

Serenity shook her head.

"I think we're probably alright. The fire rings were at least a few weeks old. Patrolling out that way everyday would probably be more of a risk than it's worth. Mole rats sometimes make their dens in that area. They can get pretty territorial in the spring."

Serenity nodded back toward the center of town.

"We could probably ask Shadow Flower to keep an eye out for the ridge though, just in case."

Valentine nodded again, setting Gilly’s plate back down on the mat.

“Mm. Alright, dear. I trust your judgement. I can talk to Flower about it tomorrow. The two of us were already planning on....discussing a few things."

Serenity raised an eyebrow.

"Discussing a few things?"

Happy could see Valentine's smile fade as she reached for her own plate, lifting it and repeating her motions from earlier as Serenity helped her hold it aloft.

"...it seems there’s been more sightings lately. A few days east of here.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Happy could see Serenity go rigid. There was a brief silence, the hum of her magic wavering slightly before reasserting itself.

Serenity's response was more curt this time.

“...the Saddles?”

Valentine nodded.

“Mm. From what Nimble Shipping passed along to us. One of their caravans caught sight of them on the way back from New Appleoosa.”

Happy could see Serenity’s hoof tense against the table. It took a moment for her to respond.

“...no sign of where they're coming from?”

Valentine shook her head.

"No, dear. I'm sorry."

“—Damn it!”

There was a faint jingle of plates and silverware as the table shifted, Serenity’s hoof impacting against the wooden surface.

Silence settled over the room. A few moments passed before Serenity spoke again.

“—Sorry, Valentine. I didn’t mean to...”

The older mare shook her head, placing her own plate back on the table in front of her as Serenity's magic dissipated.

“It’s alright, dear. I know. I know.”

Happy didn’t look up. His shoulders were tense. He felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t look either mare in the eye.

The next few minutes passed in similar silence, the scrape of silverware on plates the only sound aside from the faint wind outside. Despite not feeling hungry at all, Happy slowly began to work on the contents of his own plate.

He could barely taste the food. It was like warm mush in his mouth.

Clop clop clop clop.

Happy’s ears twitched on their own accord.

Glancing up toward the doorway Valentine had come from earlier, he could see the small form of a red filly appear in the doorway, a scowl on her face as she stared down at the floor at her hooves.

Across the table, he could see Valentine set down her teacup, nodding toward the young mare.

“There you are, Gilly. Come take a seat at the table, dear. Serenity and Happy have been waiting for us.”

Happy watched as the filly walked forward in silence, still scowling at her hooves as she took a seat on the bench next to her mother. She continued to stare down at the floor as she sat, not responding as Valentine turned back toward the table, glancing down at her daughter out of the corner of her eye.

“You should eat up, dear. Before your food gets cold.”

Another few moments passed. Gilly didn’t respond. Happy could see Serenity glance in the filly’s direction as well, a small, pained smile breaking across her face.

“You should listen to what Valentine says, Gilly. Everything’s really good. Valentine even made cherry pie for dessert. It’s been a while since we’ve had that together, hasn’t it?”

Gilly didn’t respond. Still staring at the floor, she lifted her hooves to the table, slowly reaching for the fork and knife on either side. Without saying anything, she slowly went to work on her own plate, the scrape of silverware once again taking the place of conversation.

Happy's eyes drifted back to his own plate. The silence was almost painful.

After a few bites, the filly sat her fork and knife down, her eyes once again returning to her hooves. Happy could see Valentine and Serenity exchange a brief glance, Valentine turning to her daughter once more.

“Gilly, dear? You really should eat something. You haven’t left your room all day—”

“—I’m not hungry.”

“Dear, even if that’s the case, you’re still growing. You really should—”

“—I’m not hungry!”

There was a brief silence as the room went quiet, the filly’s outburst echoing in Happy’s ears. His gaze still fixed on his own plate, he watched out of the corner of his eye as Valentine shifted in her seat. Her voice was calm and gentle.

“Gilly, dear—Serenity doesn’t get a chance to eat with us very often and Happy’s busy with his work at the depot. Since we have the chance, I think it would be nice if the four of us could sit down together and—”

“—Dad wouldn’t have made me eat dinner if I didn’t want to.”

There was another pause. Happy could see Serenity’s expression falter at his side, the yellow mare's eyes drifting down to her own plate.

Across the table, he could see Valentine pause, her lips parted mid-sentence. He could see her searching for words, her voice growing softer.

“Gilly. You don’t have to eat if you’re not hungry—"

The older mare reached forward, gently lifting a hoof to the filly's shoulder.

"—but I still think it would be good for you to sit down with some other ponies for a little bit and—”

Whack.

Happy winced as he watched Gilly bat her mother’s hoof away. The filly shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as she shouted down at her hooves.

“This is stupid! Dad wouldn’t have made me sit at the table if I didn’t want to! I’m going to my room!”

Happy could see a pained look cross Valentine’s face.

“Gilly—”

There was a clatter of silverware falling to the floor as Gilly pushed her hooves against the table, the whole surface shifting as the bench beneath her and Valentine slid back a few inches. The filly’s eyes still squeezed shut, Happy could see her bolt from the table, disappearing through the doorway and into the living room beyond. The clop of hooves followed suit, punctuated by the sharp slam of a door a few moments later. Silence followed.

Happy’s eyes wandered back to his plate. He could see Valentine and Serenity stare down at theirs in turn, not speaking for a moment before looking up to exchange another glance. Valentine was the first to speak.

“I’m sorry. Serenity. Happy. I’ll go talk to her.”

The older mare moved to stand. Happy watched as Serenity did the same at his side.

“It’s alright, Val. I’ll come, too.”

Serenity glanced down at Happy, the ache in the buck's chest spiking as she gave him a weak smile.

“We’ll be back in a few minutes, Happy. Don’t worry about us. Gilly’s just going through a hard time right now.”

Averting his gaze, Happy nodded dimly, unsure of how to respond. He couldn't look her in the eye.

“Mm.”

Serenity patted his shoulder, smiling again as she stepped back from the table and followed Valentine out of the room. He could hear the two of them make their way down the hall, the creak of a door opening and closing a few moments later.

Happy stared down at the food on his plate.

He’d only gotten halfway through its contents, but the drive to eat any more had faded away completely.

Placing his fork and knife back on the table, he slid back off the bench, glancing back at the doorway. He could faintly make out the sound of the two mares' soft voices, their words muffled by the walls and wind blowing outside in the background. A third voice, quieter, occasionally punctuated the two, replying in brief, single word responses.

Happy glanced back at the table and the empty seat at its head.

A flicker of memory passed across his mind. Of a much brighter, cheerful dinner scene long past—the deep, booming laughs of a red stallion echoing through the timbered walls around them.

Happy’s eyes widened, his hoof immediately flying to his muzzle.

His eyes rapidly searching the room, he turned, his focus shifting toward the back door of the house. Stumbling forward on three hooves, he reached for the handle. Turning it, he scrambled past the threshold into the cold, evening air, placed a hoof on the side of the building, and promptly vomited.

A few moments passed. Happy could feel his head spin, his chest and stomach heaving on their own accord. His mouth was immediately filled with the bitter taste of bile and his recent meal, prompting him to gag and vomit again as the feedback loop reinforced itself.

A few more minutes passed. Eventually, his stomach ran out of bile to expel, the sound of his retching replaced with slow, heavy breaths.

Happy slumped down onto his stomach. With a faint grunt of effort, he rolled over, coming to rest on his haunches as he pressed his back against the wall.

He continued to breathe heavily in silence, the cold wind passing across his face as he stared forward dimly into the darkness.

It was always like this. The last time he and Serenity had gotten together, too. The details were different—he hadn't vomited then and Gilly had still been crying often—but the general sense of unease in the air was the same.

The bright, cheerful dinners they'd had together when he first arrived were a distant memory. One that left everything since then still and colorless by comparison.

And it was his fault.

Happy lifted his hooves in front of him.

He blinked.

He could see the blood still coating them. Red. Dripping.

He blinked again.

The blood was gone.

"Mmph!—"

Happy brought his hoof to his muzzle as he felt his chest heave again. He screwed his eyes shut, biting down on his lip until he felt blood start to dribble down onto the ground below.

The sensation passed. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

The dull, shifting skies of the wastes stared down at him from above, gray and lifeless as ever.

The night air was empty. Cold. The only sound he could hear was the wind.

Whistling. Blowing. Lifeless.

“Heya there, son. How’re things going?”

Happy turned to his side.

A few hooves away, he could see a red stallion step out from the open doorway, a wide smile set beneath his golden beard. Though his frame was imposing at first glance, the air around him was warm and welcoming.

Slowly, Happy turned away from the figure, nodding dimly as he stared off toward the darkened ridgeline beyond.

“...Hi...Red…”

The older stallion chuckled.

“Not much excitement in that response there, son. Something gotcha down?”

Happy’s gaze drifted down toward his hooves as the red earth pony trotted past, taking a seat beside him a few hooves away.

Happy closed his eyes, wincing as he shook his head.

“Mm-mm…I’m….fine.”

Cracking an eye back open, he could see the red stallion raise an eyebrow in doubt.

“Hmm? Sure doesn’t look like it to this old stallion.”

Happy winced again, casting his gaze back down. His lips parted for a moment as he paused, his words catching in his throat.

“The...three of them...miss you...Red.”

There were a few moments of silence. Happy could see the red stallion nod at his side, his wide smile shifting into a smaller, wryer one.

“Mm. I know.”

“Valentine...tries...but Gilly...is different...now.”

“Mm.”

“And Serenity...doesn’t seem...the same...either. She’s...always tired...and sad...even when she’s...smiling.”

“Mm.”

“She’s angry...too...at...the Black Saddles...and...Silver Stripes. She doesn’t...sleep much…anymore.”

“Mm.”

Happy paused, his voice trailing off. He could feel his chest tightening with each word—hearing them aloud almost more painful than keeping them inside. Saying them made them feel more real, somehow.

Happy could feel his mane shift in the wind behind him. At his side, the red stallion's golden mane continued to lay flat, his eyes set skyward as the two of them sat side by side.

A few more moments passed in silence.

“Are you doin’ your best, son?”

Happy blinked, glancing up at the stallion.

“My...best?”

“Mm.” The stallion nodded, shifting his gaze back down to meet Happy’s. “Trying your best? Working hard? Helping out where you can?”

Happy frowned, unsure how to respond. He could feel the stallion's eyes on him. He averted his gaze.

“I...guess.”

The red stallion smiled.

“Then you’re doing alright, son. You’re doing alright. Moving forward’s all a pony can do.”

The stallion lifted a hoof to his shoulder. Happy couldn’t feel its weight.

“Just be there when they need ya, Happy. They’ll let ya know when that is.”

Happy nodded dimly.

“Mm.”

The red stallion smiled again, lifting a hoof to tousle his mane. Happy cast his gaze back downwards. With the wind blowing, he could almost feel the stallion’s hoof on his head.

“Keep at it, son. We’ve all go through rough patches here and there. Just stay together. Do your best. You’ll get by.”

“Mm.”

Happy glanced back over to his side.

The red stallion was gone.

The buck allowed his gaze to linger for a few moments longer. He could feel the breeze around him rise briefly, a faint shiver running down his back. His eyes drifted back down to the ground beneath him, then back to the house. The stallion's words echoed through his mind.

He winced.

He didn’t deserve to be here. To stay at their sides.

He scratched at the matted fur beneath his collar.

Casting one last glance toward the patch of empty earth where the red stallion had sat, Happy stood, turning back toward the house.

Eyes fixed on his hooves, he stepped into the threshold, reaching a hoof back to the door.

He paused, standing in place for a moment as the wind blew past. Waiting. Listening.

Then, wordlessly, he stepped back inside, pulling the door shut behind him.

***