Second Chance
Prologue
The sun was shining that day. The temperature wasn't too bad either. Not too cold that you would need a hoodie to be comfortable, but not hot enough that going outside seemed like a bad idea. To anybody else, it was just another beautiful mid-June day.
But to you, it was anything but ordinary.
For it was the day you gave up. The day you said goodbye to your hopes, your dreams, and those around you. The day you left this life, and entered the next one.
So, as you sat on the roof of a 15-story office building you passed each day on your way to school, you half-wonder what happened in your soon-to-be tragically short life that made you want to end it all. The answer, unsurprisingly, came easy enough.
You weren't always suicidal. In fact, your life was pretty awesome up until about six months ago. You had a loving family, a small amount of friends, and you did decent in school, not because you were stupid or anything, you just found what you learned to be irrelevant to pretty much everyone except those who taught it. Unfortunately, life has a way of taking things away from you almost as fast as it give them.
You're not sure when exactly life turned from good to total shitstorm, but you're pretty sure the first major event to kick things off was the death of your father about six months back due to some drunk truck driver careening into the other lane, driving himself, and your father, into the river 60 feet below. After that, things pretty much went straight to hell. Your mom turned to alcoholism to cope with the pain, and soon after turned abusive. Your girlfriend left you after you entered a phase of serious depression, and then to top it all off, your friends left you one-by-one to be friends with less mopey people.
But you didn't care anymore. You didn't care about them, your girlfriend, or even your mom, because there was no point. What you were about to do was set in stone the second your dad was lowered into his grave.
You stand up, leaving the bottle of soda you had on the ground. You didn't need it where you were going.
“Alright...” you say to yourself. “I guess... this is it then.” You exhale. All the pain, all of the suffering you had been feeling for the past few months was finally going to the end. And you know what? You were happy. For the first time in a very long time, you were genuinely happy, because you were going to be seeing your dad soon. The only person you wanted to see now.
You stand up; a sudden breeze makes your T-shirt whip at your sides. You casually walk over to the edge of the building, almost as if you were walking to a friend's house. Once you reach the edge of the building, you turn around. Your back is now facing the open air, your arms akimbo. You take one last look at the concrete world that wass your home, and close your eyes. You lean back, entering the void beyond.
Now, some people think when you are falling through the air, the wind whistling in your ears, your mind goes into overdrive. If you're cliché enough, perhaps your short life might have been flashing before your closed eyes. But in your case, however, the trip down was surprisingly peaceful. The only thing going through your head was a snippet of lyrics from that song “Toes” by Zach Brown Band, which your father would sing to you on his guitar when you were feeling down.
Concrete and cars are their own prison bars
Like this life I'm living in
But the plane brought me farther, I'm surrounded by water
And I'm not going back again.
At this thought, a smile creeps across your face for the first time since the funeral. You were going home. Not a physical home, per se, but your dad was home enough. And as you enjoy the last few fleeting moments of free-fall, your mind goes blank.
Until something startles you. A loud boom, colors flashing before your eyelids and a shock wave so powerful it makes you shake in air a bit. Your eyes open reflexively, and you almost pass out from the sight. You were expecting to be a few feet from the rapidly-approaching asphalt, the building and trees surrounding it being almost dangerously close. But, for some unfathomable reason, you aren't even close to any buildings.
The first thing that hits your mind is the altitude you're at. Instead of being a few dozen feet from the ground, you're several hundred. You're so high up you can see for miles around. A large grove of trees, stretching out farther than you could ever hope to see, a large forest, mountains, a river, and finally what looks like a small town about a mile from where you suspected you were going to hit.
Looking back on it, you find the whole experience sort of funny. Funny that all of the suicidal thoughts, all of the sadness, rage, heartbreak, and relief that had been on your mind for the longest time suddenly wiped away, replace with a primal urge to get out of here. Your brain shrinks to the size of a peanut, and you start screaming, flailing your arms in what you think is some desperate attempt to fly. The ground is getting REALLY close, you think, as everything comes into progressively sharper detail. You can see a red farmhouse now, complete with a purple roof and wooden fence surrounding it. You can see several oddly-shaped houses in that little town you saw earlier, and one of them even looks like it's built into a tree, of all things. All the while you are thinking this; however, you are still screaming and flailing your arms like a maniac. That is, until...
“Hang on, buddy! I've got you!” You hear something behind you yell. You feel your arms be caught by something soft, and your body goes from a fall to a fast glide. This mysterious person helping you sounds female, with a slight tomboyish accent (if that makes any sense) to her voice.
You hear her groaning in effort, but despite her best efforts, you continue to plummet.
“You're too heavy! I-I can't pull up! We're gonna crash!” She yells in frustration. Oh fuck, you think. This is NOT going to end well for either of us.
Your descent, while still isn't as rapid as before, is still alarmingly fast. The only thing you can do before your impact is to close your eyes and pray to whatever god is relevant in this strange new place to take pity on you.
SLAM. You hit something hard. The last things you remember before darkness consumes you are several loud snaps, a girl screaming, and yourself being flung like a rag doll in what you can guess is sideways.
Your whole world is pain. Everything hurts, and you just feel like laying in the spot you're currently at until the end of time.
Wake up. A small voice in your head says to you. Get the hell up, or you are going to die out here!
Mmmf, please go away and let me sleep, you mutter inwardly. This spot wouldn't be too bad for a final resting place, anyway.
You selfish pig! The voice yells in indignation. You may not care if you die, but that girl risked her life to save yours, without even receiving a “thank you” in return! The least you can do is man up and return the favor.
Ouch. That one stung. But, like it or not, that tiny voice in your head was right. You need to get help, and then you can sleep. Just lay down and sleep forever.
You slowly but surely get to your knees, gritting your teeth as agony rips through your injured body. You open your eyes to see what kind of damage you sustained, and cry out in surprise and pain at what you see. Your left arm is broken badly (at least 3 places badly). Your other arm is functional, but cut up so badly it looks like more blood than skin is covering its surface. Despite this, most likely aided by the massive adrenaline high you are experiencing at the moment, you manage to stand up. Immediately your vision tunnels and you throw up, but what comes out is dark red, borderline black. You manage to stay standing despite this ordeal, and you start walking, not even looking back at your unknown savior.
After a few steps you stumble, your legs tying each other up. One foot in front of the other, you remind yourself. You've still got a life to save.
You shamble through fields, an apple grove, and finally over several bridges before you see the outskirts of the town before you. By now it is dark, the moon about a quarter through the sky. It looks a lot bigger than in your town, but you're too exhausted to care. Finally, you see something move. A horse appears, with purple curly hair, flawless white fur, and a horn on its head. In your semi-functional state, you guess a horse is better than nothing, and stumble towards it. It sees you, and a horrified expression forms on its mouth, its brilliant blue eyes open wide.
“He-help...... someone hurt... a mile that way... please...” you utter, your vision going blurry. Your legs immediately give out, and you unceremoniously fall to the ground, vision fading. An elegant-sounding voice yelling for help are the last things you hear before you black out for the second time that day.
Second Chance
Chapter 1
“Look, I'm terribly sorry, Miss Rarity, but there is simply nothing else we can do for it right now! Magic can only heal so much. He's sustained a major concussion, multiple breaks on his left radius, at least three cracked ribs, and don't even get me started on the organ damage! The only thing we can do for him right now is let him rest. Please go home and rest, Miss Rarity, you've been at its side for the past day and a half. Please.”
“Do NOT tell me what to do, doctor. First of all, it is a HE. Second of all, I will NOT abandon somepony who saved the life of one of my best friends! This... this... whatever he is deserves to be treated with the utmost respect and care!”
“Sigh, alright, Miss Rarity. As you wish. But PLEASE don't touch him, or anything else in this room. One wouldn't want to make matters worse.”
“I shall not touch a thing. Thank you, doctor. You don't know how much this means to me.”
“Er... yes! Thank you, Miss Rarity. I need to go... uh... check on the other patients now! Goodbye, Miss Rarity.”
You hear something akin to the knocking on a tile floor with you knuckles in quick succession. Then the voice of a lady giggling.
“Works every time.”
Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep...
You're alive. Somehow. And you're not sure how to react to this.
At first, you're sad because you won't be seeing your dad again any time soon. But this feeling quickly subsides to one of happiness as you realize something.
Someone named Rarity cares enough about me to not leave my side as I recover, despite having no knowledge of who I am, you think to yourself. And that fact alone is enough to make you chuckle to yourself, which ends as quickly as it begins as pain lances up your side and you grimace in pain. After a few seconds, the pain subsides, and you take this opportunity to open your eyes.
It's dark. Since you blacked out when it was night, as well, that means you would've been out for at least 24 hours. But that doesn't concern you right now. In fact, only one thing concerns you right now. Water. Your mouth feels like someone poured sand into it and zip-tied your lips together. Your throat is on fire, and you can barely speak at the moment. You also realize you're arm is in a cast as thick as a paper towel roll, and hard as rock. Furthermore, your whole torso and most of your head is wrapped in white bandages, and you've got an IV and heart monitor hooked up. You're not even thinking as you rip off the heart monitor, as well as the IV, its contents dripping onto your bed. You stand up, and immediately sit back down again, your head feeling fuzzy and your fingers going numb. After taking a few minutes to relax and collect your bearings once again, you stand up. Once again, your head goes fuzzy, except this time you manage to stay standing. You take a single step. Then another. And another, and before you know it, you're out the door (which was wide open, for some reason) exploring your new surroundings.
The hallway where your room is is lower to the ground than you'd expect. You're back is slightly stooped as your uncertain footsteps echo on the cold tile floor. You pass a few other rooms. It is too dark inside for you to see, but you can read the clipboards next to each room, thanks to a small flashlight in your pocket that had somehow survived the crash. As you observe each clipboard, you notice the patients have the oddest sounding names you've ever heard. Carrot Top, Vanilla Milkshake, and Ocean Shine to name a few. You wonder if you're at a Grateful Dead concert. You don't stick around for long, however, as you still desperately need water.
The hospital turns out to be a small one, with two stories to it, luckily, you're on the ground floor, saving you from the probable disaster associated with you going down stairs in your weakened state. Once you enter the reception area, the tile turns into a thick carpet. Despite you're weakened state, you can see a bathroom and, at long last, a water fountain! You hobble over to it as fast as you're bruised legs can carry, and take a sip.
Before that point, you've never been much of a God-fearing man, but the water you drank made you question your stance on the matter. As it cascaded down your parched lips, down your burning throat, and into your eager stomach, feeling like ice water, you utter a contented sigh. It tasted absolutely awesome, and you doubt water would ever taste as good ever again. You keep drinking, letting the wet coolness seep over your tongue. You could have stayed there forever,until suddenly a light shines behind you.
“Anh wha doo yuh thinh yuh doih ouhiyd uh ed?” A voice behind you blubbers unintelligibly.
You whip around, a look of panic on your face. Oh crap, you think. Now I'm busted.
Your thoughts cease as you see the owner of said voice. It was a horse, with a hospital coat draped over it's back and its forehooves in the sleeves. It spits out the flashlight it is holding in its mouth. You don't say anything, but your silence only makes the horse repeat itself.
“I said, 'and what do you thing you think you're doing out of bed, mister?'” It repeats, far more clearly, purple eyes narrowed and staring at yours.
Your hands start to shake as you try to comprehend what is happening. A horse, an honest to God horse doctor is talking to you. Not only that, but its dressed up in a cute little doctor's white lab coat. You're not sure how to react to the fact you are clearly going crazy. As it turns out, neither does your body. You fall to your knees, eyes falling to the floor.
“Oh, my!” the horse-doctor says in surprise. “Are you alright? You're face is turning pale.”
“Horse... mrrf dr buh? ” You mutter, not even understanding what you just said. Quite suddenly, you find that the carpet looks like a dandy place to take a nap. Your face falls onto the soft floor, mouth open and drooling, while the horse-doctor starts dialing a phone with obscenely large buttons.
Horses can't use phones, you think as your eyes shut once more, that progressively more familiar inky blackness overtaking you.
You dreamed that night. A crazy dream where everybody in the world was a horse, and you were a carrot. You would try to run away from the horses, but they were faster. The horses would eventually overrun you, and then start eating your orange flesh while you screamed for them to stop. Again and again.
Suddenly, a voice cuts through your dream. It sounds firm, yet gentle, and full of an authoritative air you certainly admire.
“We found him in the reception area, Miss Rarity, trying to get some water. Doctor Peppermint over here caught him in the act, where he then fell to the ground, mouth drooling. I came as quickly as I could.”
“Well, I certainly appreciate you letting me know what happened, Doctor Sunflower. I want to be there when he wakes up, and thank him for saving Rainbow.”
There's that same voice, you think. The same elegant accent your remember when you were getting help for your mysterious savior.
“It's no problem at all, Miss Rarity. I must be go check on the other patients, unfortunately. Let me know if the situation develops any further.”
“I'll be sure of it, doctor. Have a nice day.” You hear a door shut, and then silence. After a long while of feigning slumber, you become restless and want answers. You decide that since this person was nice enough to get you help in your time of need, she'd be able to answer a few questions for you. The first and foremost being where the hell you were.
“Where... where am I?” you ask aloud, your voice sounding hoarse and your eyes closed.
“Well you're Ponyville of course darli- WA-HA-HA!!!” She cries in surprise and shock. “You're awake! Doctor Sunflower, come quick! Hurry!”
“Well, I am now, anyway.” you mutter, eyes still closed.
“Oh, darling, this is simply MARVELOUS! Twilight, dearie, wake up! He's awake!”
“He is?” you hear a female voice groggily say. “Well, I guess you'll be able to give him that 'thanks' after all.”
Yeah, lucky me, you think inwardly, not wanting to hurt feelings. Suddenly, the door opens suddenly, and you hear something similar to if you were to knock on tile very fast.
“Miss Rarity, are you alright? I heard yelling coming from inside and...” the doctor you heard before now notices you stirring in the bed. With your copious amounts of bandages tightly wrapped around your chest and head, you look almost comical. The doctor stifles a laugh as he continues.
“Oh, good! You're awake. How are you feeling?” he asks. You're not really sure how to respond, though- you're arm is broken, you recently tried (and failed) to commit suicide, and you're pretty sure you went on an insanity trip not too long ago. But you have to think of something.
“I'm feeling better than last night, that's for sure.” You reply, wanting to sink down into your comfy pillow to sleep some more. You chuckle, then add, “It's funny but last night I could swear I was talking to a horse dressed up as a doctor.”
After a few moments, you realized that the room is silent. Finally, you hear the person someone called “Twilight” speak, “Um, not to burst your bubble or anything, but...” she trails off. This causes a pang of nervousness in your head. Oh no. No. Nononononono, you think. That does NOT sound good. After what seemed like an eternity of thought in your head, you slowly open your eyes.
You are now positive you're insane. You see four horses staring at you. One is the same purple-maned one you begged for help the night of the crash, and another is dressed up in the same white lab coat as the one you talked to last night, but is deep red instead of the gray one you encountered last night. The third one was purple. Yes, purple. It had a black mane, a purple horn, and somehow with a violet and pink highlight running down. Had you been any less panicked, you might have wondered how the hell it could have gotten those highlights without the use of fingers or thumbs. The final horse was standing near the now-closed door. It was much more muscular than the other ponies, and was most likely on security, in case things were to get out of hand.
You scream. Long, and loud. The horses staring around you are startled momentarily, but calm down once they get used to your shrill-sounding cries of shock.
“Oh God oh God oh God oh God. This isn't happening. I'm going crazy. What the hell happened to me?! Why aren't you people?! How the hell do you have highlights?! HORSES CAN'T GET HIGHLIGHTS!” This goes on for a while, until your screams die down to a small babble, your vocal chords strained to exhaustion. The purple-haired one you think is names “Rarity” approaches you, and while inside your head you are screaming for her to get away, you can only manage to shut your eyes and squeak in fear, awaiting the worst to come.
You feel something soft on your side. It then moves up to your throat, and comes to rest on your cheek. Your eyes open in curiosity. She's hugging you. Her coat is warm, and her warmth extinguishes all thoughts in your head as you lay it back against the headboard, her body heat flowing into you. It had been a long time since someone or something had hugged you with the care this horse had.
“Shhhhhh. It's alright, darling. We aren't going to hurt you. Just relax. You're going to be alright.” she says reassuringly, her voice like honey to your ears. Your body stops shaking, and your incessant babbling of insanity ceases, as well. After a few moments, your mind collapses in on itself, and you start crying. Just a few tears at first, but slowly escalate to full-blown sobbing as you lose control, all of the shock and terror and pain you've felt over the past few days being released in one explosive torrent of raw emotion.
“It's okay. You're safe here. Just let it out. Shhhh...” Rarity says, her soothing voice making you sob harder. You think of your dad, your friends, even your mom, and then finally of your attempted suicide. Jesus Christ, you think. You're practically screaming bitterly inside your head. How screwed up in the head am I to abandon everyone who's cared for me? My friends, family. Dear God, I'm a monster.
Despite your emotional avalanche, Rarity stays by you, embracing you with the love and care you only thought existed in those sappy romance movies. Sooner or later, you calm down and open your eyes, staring into hers. Her deep sapphire eyes seem to pierce your soul, and you can't help but lose yourself in them. After a few moments of silence, you embrace her once again, a quiet “thank you” coming from you as you release yourself from your embrace, smiling warmly.
“Sorry about that,” you say sheepishly, wiping stray tears from your eyes. “I got a little out of control there.”
“It's no problem,” the one called “Doctor Sunflower” replied. “I'd probably do the same thing under the circumstances.” You grin at this, eliciting a smile from the doctor.
“So. Mr...” You tell him your name. “Ah! Well, it is very nice to meet you. I am Dr. Sunflower, the stallion in charge of this hospital.”
“I am Rarity, my dear. At your service.” Rarity says, offering one of her forehooves. You shake it.
“And I'm Twilight Sparkle, the town librarian.” She also offers a hoof, to which you shake, eliciting a smile from her lips.
“Well, now that introductions are out of the way, let's get to know you more. If you don't mind me asking, could you tell us about yourself?” Sunshine asks.
“Hm...” you begin, thinking. After about half an hour of telling them about yourself, your species, how you got here, and after a while you run out of things to say. You don't tell them of the specific way you got to where you are now, not wanting them to question your emotional stability (something you've been contemplating for quite a while now). Twilight is the first to speak after a sizable pause.
"Wow." she says quite simply. You nod your head.
"Well, it's a safe bet that you are stuck here until we find a way to get you back, so you might as well get to know the area. Why not a tour?" Twilight continued. Instantly Rarity perked up.
“A spectacular idea as usual, Twilight!” Rarity exclaimed. You can't object. If you're going to be here, you might as well be comfortable.
The two of them are about to lift you out of bed when the doctor rushes to you. “Wait just a minute!” he says desperately. Twilight and Rarity pull away, shocked.
“Please forgive me, but I need to advise him of his injuries before he can go.” Doctor Sunflower grabed a clipboard from a nearby table and cleared his throat. “Now then. When Miss Rarity almost dragged you into this hospital single-handedly two days ago, you were suffering from several broken ribs, 2 closed fractures on both your left ulna and radius, a moderate concussion, multiple lacerations on your right arm...” Doctor Sunflower continues rattling off injuries like he was reading off a shopping list. You, on the other hand, were starting to shake again. Was I really that messed up? You wonder. If not for Rarity, I'd have been a goner. You stare at Rarity, a newfound admiration for her arising within you. She's the nicest person you have met since almost dying, and as you contemplate how to repay her, you realize everyone is staring at you. You also realize you've been grinning like an idiot at Rarity, and she now looks visibly worried. Your face immediatly flushes, the most sheepish grin escaping your lips.
“As I was saying... despite this, our magic has been able to mostly heal you. You should still take it easy for at least a couple days...” Doctor Sunflower stops, noticing your flushed face. “...are you feeling alright? Your face looks awfully red.”
“I-I'm so sorry. It's just that-” You begin, but you soon feel a soft hoof press against your lips, preventing you from speaking (and probably embarrassing yourself) any further.
“It's quite alright, let's just get you out of this bed.” Rarity says, smiling. A flush of relief flows through you. Well, at least she isn't totally freaked out by me.
Twilight and Rarity help you out of bed, and you see your tattered T-shirt on a dresser. As you attempt to put it on, Rarity stops you.
“I think it would be best if we were to burn those, darling.” she says. You can't help but agree, seeing that it is more holes than actual shirt by now, and drop it into a trashcan. You start walking out of your room, but you make it three steps before you stumble, and immediately find Twilight and Rarity on either side of you, putting your hands on their backs to steady you. A temporary fix, you think. But I'm going to need a wheelchair or something until my bones mend.
You manage to get to the reception area with the help of Twilight and Rarity, getting some fearful looks from some of the other ponies. A reception area full of horses reading magazines and staring at you is still unnerving, but you relax once you feel Rarity's ridiculously soft coat on your arm. The three of you go to the door, and enter the bright daytime beyond, you unsure of what is to come.
