Of Bands and Battlesby Summer KnightChaptersInvitationFamily MattersRehearsalRound 1: VS LocalsInvitationThunder Growl roared along with the brutal lyrics that crashed through the open-air concert venue. "There's... nothing to save... you're my slave... burn the earth!" He was not on stage this time, but rather was enjoying the savage music produced by Dethkolt, the greatest death metal band in Equestria. Pour the gas, light the match, burn! A stallion even larger than Thunder crashed into his side, sending him staggering several steps. Thunder turned around with a fierce grin and returned the favor, and within moments a bone-breaking mosh pit formed within the tightly-packed crowd. Some ponies backed off to make room while others threw themselves in with wild abandon Pour the gas, light the match, burn! A very familiar mint-green pegasus swooped down from the sky to join the party. Thunder cried out with delight at seeing Wing Beat, the drummer for his band, coming to mosh with them. He immediately welcomed her to the party with a full-force shoulder tackle, but she avoided the attempt by slipping around him to the side. Pour the gas light the match *burn,* pour the gas light the match *burn!* Thunder frowned. That wasn't proper mosh pit etiquette at all. He tried again, but she caught him by the shoulders and shook him, breaking through his frenzy with her urgency. Thunder at last realized that something was wrong. Wing Beat's eyes were wide and terrified and the hooves on his shoulders were trembling. "Wing?" Thunder tried to shout over the deafening music. "What is it?" Wing Beat shook her head and gestured away from the crowd, toward the more open and quieter space near the back of the venue. She couldn't hear him. Thunder, his eyes narrowing with concern, pushed his way through the crowd and followed her out. Wing Beat was practically prancing as she walked, and her wings kept snapping open and closed, as if she wanted to avoid all of this trouble and take to the sky again. Thunder shoved his way between ponies a bit more roughly and finally came side-by-side with her. "Wing, what's wrong?" he shouted into her ear. "It's Bass!" she shouted back. Bass Groove was the bassist for their band. Wing's eyes filled with tears even as Thunder watched, and Thunder's stomach twisted into knots. Something was very wrong here. "What about him?" Thunder asked. Wing Beat tried to speak but couldn't form the words. She just shook her head and motioned urgently for him to follow. The two finally broke free of the crowd and trotted toward the back, near the entrance. At first Thunder thought that she meant to lead them straight out of the venue, but she changed directions a moment later and Thunder realized that their true destination was the nurse's station that had been set up nearby. Such things were a necessity at concerts like this; there was bound to be an injury or two from over-enthusiastic moshing, not to mention the possibility of alcohol poisoning. Thunder himself had been running a nice buzz, though it was now largely pushed aside by a flood of adrenaline and his concern for his bandmate. Wing Beat pushed open the makeshift door of the nurse's station—it was no more than a piece of fabric draped across the opening—and led Thunder inside. Thunder scanned the inside of the pavilion and quickly found the pony he was looking for. A deep blue unicorn lay unconscious on a bed in the corner, with a red unicorn sitting beside him. The blue unicorn was Bass Groove, and the red one was his brother Power Chord. Power was gently stroking his brother's hoof. As Thunder drew nearer he saw that Power Chord's eyes were red and swollen, nearly matching his bright red coat, and the unicorn had dark, wet patches running down the sides of his face. He had been crying, and quite a lot from the look of it. "Power Chord!" Thunder shouted. He immediately winced as nearly every pony in the pavilion shushed him at once. "Power," he asked again, more quietly, "what happened?" "Bass, he—" Power choked out. "He what?!" Thunder demanded. Bucked if he sounded angry, he was angry. He was angry because he was terrified and nopony seemed to want to tell him what was going on. "Thunder." Wing Beat laid a hoof on his shoulder and gently but firmly drew him a few steps away. "I came to get you because Power Chord wouldn't leave his side. I don't blame him, either." "Wing Beat, are you going to tell me just what the buck happened to our bassist?" Thunder asked quietly. "He—" Wing swallowed hard. "He tried to kill himself." Thunder's stomach plummeted. He felt like his innards had been replaced with ice. "He what?" Thunder asked softly. "We were at the bar," Wing said, fighting back frightened tears. "He'd just finished a beer. I don't know what made him do it, but he suddenly just freaked out. He'd been acting weird for a while. He kept trying to talk about everything that happened with Cacophony, but Power and I blew him off, I guess. It was still too painful, you know? Anyway, finally he just flipped, said he couldn't take it anymore. He smashed the bottle and used it to... to..." Wing shut her eyes tightly closed and shook her head, the tears finally spilling forth as her body shook with sobs. Thunder gently shushed her and pulled the distraught pegasus into a tight hug. It wasn't easy to comfort her when he was doing his best to keep his own feelings in check at the same time, but he had to do what he could. Thunder wanted to scream. He wanted to punch Bass Groove for trying to off himself and to punch Power Chord and Wing Beat for letting things go this far. Some part of him, however, knew that that was absolutely the wrong way to deal with this situation. Giving in to his anger wouldn't help anypony. "Come on," Thunder said after a long moment, "let's go talk to them, okay?" Wing Beat shivered and nodded slowly, and the two ponies went to join their bandmates. "Hey Power," Wing Beat said shakily, "how're you holding up?" "I'm... I'm good." Power tried to smile and failed. "They said he'll be okay, he just needs to rest. He," Power swallowed hard, "he lost a lot of blood. There's an ambulance on the way." "Good," Thunder grunted. He stepped over to look down at Bass Groove. The unicorn was pale under his vivid blue coat and his left foreleg was elevated and wrapped tightly in bandages. Thunder gritted his teeth angrily as he looked at his bandmate. What the buck had Bass been thinking? He knew his friends had been a little off since being captured by Cacophony, but this was just way too much. A nurse came over holding fresh bandages. "Are you this pony's family?" she asked Wing and Thunder. Thunder shook his head. "We're his bandmates." "I see. Could you please excuse us for a moment? I need to speak with his brother privately." Thunder was a heartbeat from refusing, but he allowed Wing Beat to draw him away. "How is he?" Power Chord couldn't help but ask again, as he had asked several times in the last half hour. Gentlehoof, the nurse, was nothing if not kind and patient. "He'll be alright for now, I'm just concerned about what might happen down the road." That was new. "What do you mean?" Gentlehoof checked Bass's bandages and determined that they did not need changing just yet. "Has he ever had an episode like this before?" she asked. "You mean has he ever tried to..." Power couldn't make himself say the words. The nurse nodded and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "No. No, this was totally unexpected. If Wing and I hadn't stopped him, he'd have gone for his other foreleg too." Gentlehoof squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. "You and Wing most likely saved his life today." Power gave her a shaky smile. "So, what did you mean when you said you were worried about what might happen later?" The nurse took a step back and met his eyes. "Power Chord, I am going to recommend, strongly, that your brother seek psychiatric help. Bass got lucky today. If he ever tries again... he might not." Power swallowed and nodded. His stomach felt like lead. He wasn't sure if he wanted to cry or throw up, but if he didn't vent somehow he might go crazy. "I'll... I'll talk to him. When he wakes up." A pegasus wearing a white coat pushed the entrance flap aside and stepped into the nurse's station. He glanced around quickly, and Gentlehoof waved him over. "This is the patient?" the pegasus asked without preamble. The nurse nodded. The pegasus turned and waved to two other ponies whom Power hadn't seen come in, and they came over with a stretcher. It gave him a sharp pang to see them loading up his brother like luggage to be carried away, even if it was for Bass's own good. The three medical ponies departed, the pegasus already barking orders for supplies and an IV to replace some of the fluids Bass had lost. Freed from the need to stay strong for his brother, Power Chord buried his face in his forehooves and surrendered once more to tears. Wing Beat thought she might burst from the emotions pent up inside her. They'd all been having trouble coping with what happened to them inside Cacophony, but she never thought one of them would go this far. She was terrified for Bass, but she was also frightened for herself and for Power Chord. Nopony had seen this coming. What if next time it was one of them? What if the others weren't there to stop them? She was sad and frightened all at once, and she unconsciously hugged herself tightly with her wings as if to keep it all inside. "Thunder Growl? Wing Beat?" a voice called from the sky. Thunder looked up in time to see a pegasus mailpony swooping down. She landed in front of the two of them. "There you are," she said to Thunder. "You're never home, are you? I've been trying to give this to you for weeks." "I am not in the bucking mood," Thunder snarled at her. "Woah, take it easy there." The pegasus held up her forelegs placatingly. "I just need to give you a letter, it's urgent. They told me to make sure I personally got it to you." Thunder lowered his head and bared his teeth in rage. Wing Beat stepped in before things could get too ugly. "I'll take it," she said. Her voice was choked, but she managed to get the words out. The pegasus handed the letter over and looked at the two of them. "Is everything alright?" she asked. "No, everything is bucking not alright!" Thunder shouted at her. "Thunder." Wing put a hoof on his trembling shoulder. "Don't be a plothole, it's not her fault." The pegasus had taken a step back when Thunder started yelling. She looked from the two of them to the nurse's station behind them. As she watched, Bass was carried out on a stretcher. The mailpony finally seemed to put two and two together. "I'll," she said quietly, "I'll just..." She flapped her wings hard and disappeared into the sky. Wing Beat watched her go, then looked longingly after the aerial ambulance that was carrying away Bass Groove. She wanted desperately to follow, but there was nothing she could do for him now. As much to distract herself as anything else, Wing looked at the letter she had been given. She was surprised to see that it bore not only Thunder's name, but also her own, Power Chord's, and Bass Groove's. "What is it?" Thunder asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Wing carefully tore off the top of the envelope with her teeth and shook the contents into her hand. Thunder stepped around behind her to read over her shoulder. My Metal Pony is cordially invited to participate in the sixth annual Equestrian Battle of the Bands. Compete with bands from all across Equestria for fame, glory, and a 10,000 bit grand prize! "Holy buck," Thunder muttered when he saw the number. The first round of the Battle will be at the Pegadome in Manehattan. An address followed, along with a date and arrival time for the competing bands. Wing gasped when she read it. "That's a week from today!" The mailmare had said she'd been trying to find Thunder for weeks, she supposed. Thunder shook his head. "Forget it. We can't do this now, not with Bass the way he is." Wing Beat sighed. "Yeah, I know, but holy alicorns... ten thousand bits!" The rustling of a tent flap caught their attention, and they turned to see Power Chord leaving the pavilion escorted by the kind nurse who had been tending Bass. She was speaking soothingly to the distraught unicorn. "Your brother is alive right now because of what you did," she was saying. "Just make sure he gets the help he needs, and he'll be fine." "Come on, Power," Wing Beat said gently, "let's get out of here. We can go visit Bass in the morning, alright?" Power Chord nodded and wiped his eyes with a hoof. Wing Beat draped one of her wings over him and pulled him close. "It's gonna be alright," Wing promised. "Yeah," Thunder agreed. He set a hoof on the guitarist's shoulder. "We'll make sure of it." He firmly drew the unicorn along with them. "Come on, let's go." Family MattersBuck you, Cacophony! Thunder thought furiously as he paced around his hotel suite's living room. Wing Beat and Power Chord were in the bedroom. The door was open, and if Thunder cared to look he would have seen Wing talking to Power, trying to get him to settle down. Even after we beat you, you won't leave my friends alone. Buck you! Thunder's thoughts fuzzed into angry incoherence as he took a pull from the bottle on the living area's small table. The fiery taste of apples and alcohol drowned his dark musings for a moment, but only for a moment. "Thunder, will you stop that damn pacing?" Thunder looked up to see Wing Beat in the doorway of the bedroom. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. "Sorry." "No problem. Power's asleep—finally—so just don't wake him up." She stepped into the main room and gently shut the bedroom door behind her. "You're not staying with him?" Thunder asked. Wing shook her head. "I'm afraid I'd wake him up if... well, y'know." "Right," Thunder nodded slowly. Wing Beat had been having terrible nightmares since her time as Cacophony's prisoner. She sometimes screamed in her sleep. "Gotcha." "Oh, come on," Wing Beat said suddenly as she caught sight of the half-empty liquor bottle on the table. She walked over and picked it up. "You might at least have offered to share." Without waiting for an answer, she put the bottle in her mouth and tilted her head back, letting the liquor pour down her throat. "Uh. You want some?" Thunder asked belatedly. He gave her a second to drink, but she showed no signs of stopping. "So—" Wing held up a hoof to indicate wait. After several more swallows she finally lowered the bottle with a harsh exhale. "Sorry, you were saying?" "I was saying," Thunder snatched the bottle back and was dismayed to find it nearly empty, "what do we do now? About Bass, and the Battle, and everything." Wing shook her head. "There's no way we can do the Battle now, not with Bass like that. It's only a week away, that's not enough time. I say we don't even bring it up." Thunder nodded reluctantly. "I agree, but buck... ten thousand bits." "It would be nice, but we really don't need the money." She was right about that. My Metal Pony's producer had taken full advantage of Thunder's role in stopping Cacophony and bringing music back to Equestria. The band's record sales had never been better. "Yeah, you're right," Thunder sighed. "Bass is more important right now. We'll go see him in the morning." "Yeah." Wing walked over to the suite's minibar and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, her drink of choice. She stumbled only slightly as she brought it back to the table. She took a long pull straight from the bottle as Thunder finished off the last of the brandy. "So, you going to share that?" Thunder asked. Wing Beat groaned and threw a wing over her eyes as the sun poured into the suite's living area. These days, drinking herself into a stupor was the only way she could guarantee herself a decent night's sleep. It worked well enough, but it made for some rough mornings. She half-rolled, half-fell off of the couch she'd been sleeping on. She had opted to stay there rather than going back into the bedroom she currently shared with Power Chord, just in case she had another one of her nightmares. Thunder Growl, she assumed, was in the second of the two bedrooms attached to the living area. He and Bass Groove had each had a bed in there. Wing smacked her dry lips and stumbled past the two closed doors toward the bathroom. A few mouthfuls of water from the sink relieved her burning thirst and woke her up somewhat. She did not feel any other ill effects from last night's drinking, for which she was grateful. As she was not feeling up to going anywhere just yet, Wing called down to the front desk to order room service. She was waiting for her breakfast to arrive when Power Chord emerged from his room. Power Chord looked terrible. He'd been prone to panic attacks ever since being freed from Cacophony, and Bass nearly dying had triggered a terrible episode. Wing had been up late into the night with Power, trying to soothe him enough to get some sleep. The frantic unicorn had eventually drifted off, but clearly his sleep had been anything but restful. "Morning. How are you?" Wing asked, though the answer was plain to see. "Been better," Power answered. "Thanks for looking after me last night." He sounded rather embarassed. "No problem. You want breakfast? I just ordered some." Power shook his head. "Not really hungry, but thanks. I'm gonna go visit Bass." "Let's wait until Thunder wakes up. He'd be pissed if we went without him." Power shuffled his hooves. "I'd rather go now. You guys can catch up later, alright?" Wing took a couple of steps toward him. "I know you're worried, but I really think we should all go together," she said. "What if something happened to you, too?" Power exhaled and his ears drooped. "What if I tried to do something to myself, you mean." "Power—" "No, you're right. With... well, everything that's going on, it's probably better that we stick together." Wing Beat draped a wing protectively over the unicorn. "It'll be alright. They had it under control. I'm sure Bass is fine." "Yeah." Power nuzzled her briefly. "I'm sure you're right." Wing Beat's food arrived about ten minutes later: oatmeal and a vegetable platter. She and Power shared the food while they waited for their last bandmate to finally wake up. Bass Groove's foreleg hurt, a bone-deep ache that he could not relieve no matter how he positioned or massaged it. A combination of magical and mundane treatments had closed the wound he'd inflicted on himself, but the doctors had told him that there was internal damage to the nerves and muscles that may never fully heal. There was a pale white scar running up from his ankle, and he would bear that for the rest of his life. With a sigh, Bass gave up on getting any more sleep. The sun streaming in through the window of his small hospital room and his own discomfort would not allow it. Instead, Bass cautiously slid to the edge of the bed and lowered his legs to the ground. He stood on three legs for a moment, keeping his injured foreleg off the ground. Then, slowly, he lowered his fourth hoof to the floor. Bass immediately gasped as a sharp pain lanced through his leg. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to apply more weight to the injured limb. The nurse had told him that it would be important for him to excercise the leg and try to restore its strength, though she had warned that he might never fully regain the use of it. Indeed, he found himself walking with a pronounced limp, as though one of his legs were asleep. He felt a pang as he realized that, were it not for the luck of him having been born a unicorn, his musical career would be over; there was no way he would ever play an instrument with that leg. His throat tightened up with fear and shame. Some time later a nurse entered his room with food and a small paper cup of pills. "How are we feeling this morning?" she asked, her voice much too chipper. Bass winced. The nurse was projecting the false positivity that one used to speak with children and crazy ponies. He buried his head deeper into the pillow, hoping that she would think he was still asleep. He wasn't up to facing anypony just then, not with a scar on his leg and fresh tear tracks on his cheeks. "I know you're awake, I heard you walking around in here," the nurse chided him. So much for that. "Up and at 'em, Bass!" she chirped. "We need to get you fed, you've got some visitors waiting to see you." That finally caught Bass's attention. He lifted his head out of the pillow. "Visitors?" he croaked, his voice raspy and nasal with crying. "Oh dear," the nurse tsked as she saw the state he was in. She pulled a few tissues from the box on his bedside table and gently hoofed them over to him. "Get yourself cleaned up. Come on now, you can't see your parents like that." "My parents?" A bolt of panic shot through his stomach and he shook his head. His parents were absolutely the last ponies he wanted to see right now. How would he ever explain this to them? The nurse frowned disapprovingly. "Is anything wrong?" Was anything not wrong? "I don't want to see them right now," Bass mumbled. "Not like this." "They're very worried about you, you know," she answered. "At times like this it's important to be around ponies who love you. I really recommend that you at least let them see you, for your own sake if not for theirs." Bass looked away from her to stare at the floor. The nurse sighed. "I'll tell you what: eat your breakfast and take your medicine, and just think about it, okay? I'll be back in a few minutes to check on you, you can tell me then if you want to see them or not." Bass nodded. "Alright. Thanks." The nurse left the tray of food and medicine and let herself out, leaving Bass alone with his shame. Power Chord practically galloped into the Manehattan hospital, followed closely by Thunder and Wing. He approached the receptionist and asked for Bass's room. "Bass Groove?" The receptionist checked her list. "Third floor, trauma ward, but he's got visitors right now. I'll have to ask you to wait until they leave." "Visitors? Is it our parents?" Power asked. At her confused look, he explained, "I'm Bass's brother, Power Chord." "I see. And these other two?" "Friends," Thunder answered. "I understand. I can allow you to see him, Mr. Chord, but I'm afraid that you two will have to wait. We don't want to overwhelm him." "Hey—" "Of course." Wing Beat held out a hoof to forestall Thunder's angry outburst. Power Chord turned to look uncertainly at the two of them. "It's alright," Wing reassured him. "Go see your brother." Power nodded gratefully and left for Bass's room. It took only a few minutes before he arrived at the door the receptionist had indicated. He hesitated, then uncertainly lifted a hoof and knocked. The faint chatter that had been coming from inside cut off abruptly. A moment passed and then the door opened slightly, a dark brown unicorn stallion peering through the opening. When he caught sight of Power Chord, the unicorn's eyes widened and he threw the door open. "Power!" The stallion stepped forward and caught him up in a rough hug. "Oof. Hi, Dad." Power freed himself from the crushing embrace and stepped into the room. His gaze was immediately drawn toward the room's single bed, where their mother was tearfully hugging Bass. "How is he?" Power asked quietly. His father, Treble, sighed heavily. "See for yourself." Power uncertainly approached the bed. "Bass?" Bass gasped and pulled himself out of their mother's forelegs. He looked up, and Power saw that their mother wasn't the only one crying. "Power? I," he hiccuped, "I didn't hear you come in." "Sorry." Power sat on the edge of the bed. "How're you holding up, little bro?" Bass shrugged. "They fixed my leg," he answered, avoiding the real question. "They just want to check me over once more and then I'll be good to leave." Cinnamon Rondo, their mother, gently stroked Bass's mane. "He said he might never fully regain the use of that leg." Her voice cracked and she put a hoof over her mouth, trying to fight back more tears. "Mom," Bass protested, "it'll be alright. Besides, I can still play without it." Power's ears lowered in nervousness. "Look, Bass," he said hesitantly, "I was talking to that nurse back at the concert. She thinks, well—" "No." "Huh?" "I know what you're going to say, and no, I don't need a shrink. I just... I just freaked out a bit. I was drunk, and tired, and not feeling well, and I just lost it for a second. I'm fine." "You know there's nothing to be ashamed of," their mother answered him. "It's no different from seeing a doctor when you're sick. You need to take care of yourself." Bass shook his head. "I told you, I'm fine. It won't happen again." "Bass," Treble said sternly, "your brother is right. You have to get the help you need." "I don't need any help!" Bass shouted back. "I'm not bucking crazy, and I don't need a damned therapist!" "Bass Groove, you do not talk to me like that." Treble shoved a hoof into Bass's face. In the face of his son's burning glare, he sighed heavily and relented. "Just promise me you'll think about it, alright?" Bass gritted his teeth and looked away, his face flushed with anger and embarassment. "Sure," he mumbled. "What was that? I couldn't hear you." "Yeah, Dad, I'll think about it." Cinnamon smiled. "Thank you." She hugged him tightly. "You know we love you. We just want you to be alright." "Yeah," Bass sniffed, "I know. Oh!" he pulled himself away from Cinnamon. "Power, there was something I wanted to talk to you about." "What's up?" "We've been invited to play in the Equestrian Battle of the Bands, you probably heard already." Power froze. "Yeah," he said carefully, "I heard. How did you hear about it?" "It was on the radio," Bass answered. "They were advertising that we were invited, but not confirmed. We're doing it, right?" Power looked down at his little brother. "Are you sure you're up for it?" he asked seriously. "The first round is only a week away." Bass paused, then blinked once as the pieces came together in his head. "You weren't going to tell me, were you? You didn't think I could handle it." "We weren't sure you'd be ready, after... after last night." "Alicorns dammit, Power, I'm fine!" Bass burst out. "I'm sure as Tartarus not going to be the reason why My Metal Pony backs out of the Battle. I'll be out of the hospital in a few hours and we can get practicing." "You sure?" Power asked again. "Yes, dammit, I'm bucking sure!" Bass shouted. "Bass Groove, you watch your mouth!" Bass subsided. "Sorry, Mom," he mumbled. "I think it's about time we left," Treble said. "Bass needs to rest, and then it sounds like you all have some practicing to do." "Right." Cinnamon hugged Bass once more and then reluctantly left his bedside. "Power, are you coming?" Power took a hesitant step away from his brother. He didn't feel right leaving now, when there was so much uncertainty and anger between them, but maybe that was exactly why he should. "See ya, Bass." "Bye." Rehearsal"Hey Bass, your A is a bit flat," Power called to his brother as they cooled down from their latest song. "Hey Bass, your A is a bit flat," Bass mimicked sourly, turning the appropriate peg with his teeth to adjust the pitch. "Sorry, I thought you might want to know that you sound like crap." "Oh, buck you, you didn't even want me here." "Well excuse me for worrying about my little brother!" "For alicorns' sake, both of you shut up!" Wing Beat flew between the two unicorns and cuffed them with her wings. "Sorry," Bass sighed. He tried his A string again and nodded at the now-correct pitch it produced. "Let's try it again." Thunder ground his teeth. Those three had been snapping at each other since they walked in, and Thunder had just been doing his best to stay out of it lest he say something they'd all regret. "Alright," he forced himself to say calmly, "Wing?" Wing Beat knocked her drumsticks together to set the time and they launched into the next song on their list. The song sounded about as good as the rest of their practice had, which was to say that the correct notes were played at the correct times. Though there was nothing techinally wrong with their playing, all four could immediately tell that it wasn't right either. Whatever it was that made their music work—the heart, the intensity, the magic, whatever you wanted to call it— simply wasn't there. After powering through an uncomfortable four minutes, Thunder finished the song with a long, drawn-out growl as the instruments faded out. He took a deep breath, more of a sigh, and turned to look back at the others. Bass was downcast, staring at the floor. Power was gritting his teeth in frustration, and Wing Beat glared angrily. Thunder felt a flash of anger as well, but he forced it down. He made himself remember that these were his closest friends, and that they were going through something he didn't understand. With a massive exertion of willpower, he managed to speak in a normal voice. "Guys, I think we should call it a day." "It hasn't even been an hour," Power Chord protested. "The Battle's in less than a week." "It's obvious we aren't getting anything done here," Thunder replied. "Because of me, right?" Bass snapped. Thunder stomped angrily. "I didn't say that." "But you're thinking it. Look, I know you guys weren't planning to tell me about the Battle. You don't think I can handle it." "Bass, you had just tried to kill yourself," his brother said. "Yeah, I bucked up, alright? I know! But we're a band, and you don't seem to think that I'm part of that band anymore." "You need to putting words in our mouths," Wing told him. "Nopony thinks you shouldn't be in the band anymore." "You've got a funny way of showing it. Really makes a stallion feel welcome, knowing that his friends don't want him playing in the Battle with them." "Bass Groove, you need to bucking stop." Thunder thrust a hoof into Bass's face. "We were worried about you, and maybe we should have brought it up, but we didn't want you freaking out over the Battle when you had bigger problems. Now pull your bucking head out of your plot." Bass stared at the hoof right under his muzzle. He gritted his teeth as his eyes teared up, then he turned abruptly and started walking away from the others. "Sorry," he muttered. "You're right." "Bass!" Power Chord galloped over to his brother. "Just... just leave me alone, alright? We'll get together tomorrow for practice." Thunder sighed and ran a hoof through his tangled mane. He wasn't sure if he'd just made things better or worse. "What do you say we give it another day? Let's meet up the day after tomorrow, once everypony's cooled off." He looked around and the others nodded with varying degrees of reluctance. "It's only the first round of the Battle anyway," Power Chord reasoned. "We'll just be up against local bands, we're a horseshoe-in to win." "Yeah, we don't need to practice every day between now and then," Wing agreed. "We'll meet up once or twice more, but we'll be alright." Thunder nodded. "Sounds good. I'm gonna go see Berry. Take care of yourselves, alright?" "Right. You too." Wing answered. Power simply nodded, and Bass did not respond at all. Thunder left the studio and caught a cab for the train station. Within an hour he was on the train to Ponyville. He had a very strange history with Ponyville. It was where he had spent the worst time of his life, and yet he had nothing but good memories of the place. His three bandmates had all been taken by a monster called Cacophony, and Thunder had wound up in Ponyville after a failed operation by the Royal Guard to subdue the creature. It turned out to be more than coincidence; Princess Celestia had a hoof in the entire thing, and she had made sure that he would find his way to Ponyville and the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, just in case her guards failed. Thunder had been anything but easy to deal with back then. He'd been angry at himself and the world, prone to shouting at ponies who didn't deserve it and wanting nothing except to drink himself to oblivion. The six Bearers, as he'd heard them called, had helped him through those dark times with patience and understanding, even at his worst. Working together, they had managed to defeat Cacophony and bring back everyone the monster had taken, including Thunder's bandmates. He'd come a long way with the help of those six ponies and one other: Berry Punch, his not-quite-marefriend. They'd started as drinking buddies and had become something more, though they'd never made their relationship "official," whatever the buck that was supposed to mean. Right now he just wanted to spend time with someone who wouldn't make him want to kick something. As the train left Manehattan and wound its way through the countryside, Thunder nosed open his saddlebags and pulled out a flask. He didn't remember what he'd put in there, but the comforting weight assured him that it was something. He unscrewed the cap and a quick sniff revealed what he was in for: whiskey. Not his favorite, but it would do. He took a long pull as he watched the world outside go by. His body and thoughts relaxed by the fuzzy warmth of the liquor, Thunder turned his thoughts toward what was happening within My Metal Pony. His bandmates—his friends—were going through tough times, and he had no idea what to do about it. He tried to be a good friend, as Twilight and the others had been for him, but it didn't seem to be helping. The simple truth was that they were falling apart, as a band and as ponies. He took another swig and rested his head against the window, lost in thought. "Sir?" A hoof gently shook his shoulder. "Sir?" "Mm. Wha?" Thunder peeled his face away from the window and blinked bleary eyes. At some point his brooding meditation had turned into a nap. "Sir, this is your stop." Thunder shook his head to knock his jumbled thoughts into order. "Right. Thanks." He slung his saddlebags over his back and trotted out of the train. The ride from Manehattan to Ponyville was not a short one, and the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon to make way for Luna's moon. Princess Luna was another one who had helped him during those bad times. She was the one who had taught him to be open and honest with his friends, to talk about what was bothering him so that they could work through it. That was what he had come to Ponyville to do. Thunder passed through the market near the center of town, where most of the vendors were just beginning to pack up for the night. He waved to the few that he recognized from his last time here, but he didn't see any sign of Berry. "Oof!" Thunder grunted as he was unexpectedly hit in the side by a yellow blur with a large pink ribbon on its head. "Hi, Apple Bloom." "Well howdy, Thunder!" Applejack, one of the ponies who had helped defeat Cacophony, waved her Stetson to get his attention. "Ya shoulda told me you were comin' to town!" "Hey Applejack," he trotted over and accepted a hug from his friend, "I didn't know I was coming myself. I just... I need to see Berry." "Everythin' alright?" Applejack asked. Something in his tone worried her. Thunder grunted. "Not really, no." "Shoot, sorry ta hear that. Well, you know where to find her." Thunder chuckled wryly. "Sure do. Thanks, AJ." Thunder trotted off toward the bar that Berry ran. The mare was well-known for sampling her own wares, but she still ran a good business—especially considering that it was the only bar in this small town. Thunder pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit room. Rather than being gloomy, the low lights provided a pleasant atmosphere, giving patrons the sense that this was a quiet place to relax and unwind from the day. He clopped a hoof on the bar. "Maretini," he ordered, "with a kiss." "Thunder!" Berry called, her face lighting up as she saw him. She laughed at his order. "Just a sec." The wine-colored mare poured the drink: gin and vermouth garnished with an olive. She set the glass down and tapped it with the vermouth bottle—the "kiss" Thunder had asked for—then set the bottle down and gave him the kiss he actually wanted. "Do you even like maretinis?" Berry asked. "Not really." Thunder picked up the drink and knocked it back quickly so he wouldn't have to taste the gin. "What brings you to Ponyville?" "Hey, do I need a reason to come visit?" Thunder evaded. "Not that I'm not happy to see you," Berry said with a slight tilt to her head, "but isn't your band in a big competition soon? Shouldn't you be practicing?" Thunder winced. "How'd you hear about that?" "It's been all over the radio," Berry answered, "and it's all Vinyl's been talking about lately." Of course. Vinyl Scratch, also known as DJ Pon3, was a Ponyville local. She couldn't enter the Battle herself since it wasn't her genre of music, but no doubt she was excited about it. "Something wrong, hun?" Berry prodded him. "Yeah," Thunder sighed. "Things aren't going so good with the band." "Oh. That sucks." Berry glanced around the bar. It would be getting busy soon as ponies finished the day's work and filtered in, but for now it was almost empty. "What's the matter?" "Everything," Thunder grumbled. He shook his head and tried again without the melodrama. "The others are still really messed up from when they were absorbed by Cacophony. They've all got issues, and it's starting to mess up the band as a whole. We don't work well together anymore." Berry nodded slowly. "I know what you mean. I was only in there for a couple of days before you all saved me, and it gave me nightmares for weeks. To have been stuck there for over a month..." she shook her head. "You got counseling for it," Thunder said. He'd been unsure about it, but Berry had made the decision herself. "Did it help?" "Yes, it helped a lot," Berry answered. "They've actually set up a clinic in Canterlot for Cacophony's victims. I'm surprised you haven't heard about it." "We're pretty hard to get ahold of sometimes," Thunder mumbled, remembering the lengths the Battle's sponsors had to go to just to make sure My Metal Pony knew they were invited. "If they sent us anything, we might have missed it." "Mm." Berry nodded again. "For what it's worth, I really think they should at least check it out." "Canterlot, huh?" Thunder mused. "That's where it all ended." The caves beneath Canterlot were where the chaos spirit called Cacophony had made its home, and where the Bearers of Harmony had defeated it. "And how are you doing?" Berry broke into his silence. "Aside from the stuff with the band, I mean. You're not having nightmares or anything of your own, are you?" "Nah," Thunder shook his head, "Cacophony never got me, remember? I went through a bunch of manure when it got the others, but my friends helped me through it." "That's the problem, isn't it?" Berry said. "Princess Twilight and the others got you through your bad times, and you're trying to do the same for your friends now." "I..." Thunder chewed on that for a moment. "Yeah, I guess that's it. I don't really know how to be a good friend. Alicorns know I haven't had much practice at it." "Thunder Growl, you are a great friend," Berry scolded him, "and I won't hear a word against that." Thunder snorted. "No. Twilight and the others always know just what to say, or what to do. Me? I just yelled at Bass right after he tried to kill himself." "He did what?" Berry gasped. "Oh my stars, is he okay?" "He's alive, if that's what you mean. Doctor says he's got nerve damage, or muscle damage, or something. His leg might not fully heal." Berry's eyes filled up. Thunder bit back a sigh; he'd forgotten how prone Ponyville folk were to tears. "Hey," he reached a hoof across and laid it on Berry's, "come on, I just said he's alive. Don't cry." "Sorry." Berry took a moment to master herself. "Well, right now it's my turn to be a good friend." She leaned across the bar. "I think I know just how to cheer you up," she said, her voice husky. Thunder's eyes dilated and he licked his lips unconsciously. "Yeah?" "Yeah." Without breaking eye contact, Berry pulled a bottle of apple brandy from under the bar and set it between them. Thunder looked from the mare to the bottle and laughed. "Yeah, that'll work too." "S'like I was sayin'," Thunder slurred to the stallion next to him, making some sort of point about a story that was a tangent to another story which had branched off from whatever they'd originally been talking about, "a good friend always knows how to make a pony feel better, an' that Berry's a good friend." "Well, it's not hard making ponies feel better when you run a bar," the stallion answered with a guffaw. "I'll drink ta that!" Thunder sloppily poured a bit more cider into his mouth. "Alright, bucks and fillies, last call," Berry's voice carried through the bar. "Ah, buck." Thunder wondered if he could down what was left of this drink in time to order another before the bar closed. He considered the state of his thoughts and his stomach and decided against it. Instead he slapped another hooffull of bits on the bar as a tip and used the time to make one last trip to the bathroom. A few minutes later Thunder, feeling significantly more comfortable, returned to the bar to down the last couple mouthfuls of his cider. Only he and a couple of other patrons remained, Berry had closed the bar, and was currently cleaning up for the night. Thunder finished his last drink and gave a huge yawn. It was getting late, and the alcohol was making him tired. He must have dozed off for a minute, because he was surprised to feel warm, comforting hooves wrapped around him. "Come here, you," Berry said quietly, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Thunder sighed and nuzzled into her shoulder, drawing strength from her nearness. "I take it you're staying in Ponyville tonight?" Berry said. "I'm sure not goin' anywhere like this," Thunder slurred, proving the truth of his words as he tried to stand and stumbled. "Good," Berry purred. "Just give me a few minutes to finish up here and you can stay with me." "Thanks," Thunder said, and meant it. He waited around for the short time it took Berry to finish cleaning and putting everything away. When she was ready, Berry walked past him toward the door. She flicked his nose suggestively with her tail. "Coming?" Thunder gave a low chuckle. "Probably." Round 1: VS Locals"Well," Wing Beat winced at the discordant noise tearing through the concert venue, "they're certainly enthusiastic." "Is that pony having a seizure or what?" Thunder asked. The Battle's opening band, Snoutbleed, had begun playing less than three minutes ago. Their singer had promptly fallen to the floor and was now rolling and thrashing around as he screamed into the microphone. Power Chord glanced at the list of bands slated to play that evening. There were five more between this band and My Metal Pony. "It's going to be a long night." "One hundred and five, one hundred and six," Bass Groove rattled off in a monotone, counting the number of times the current band had played the same three chords, "One hundred and... oh, wow, they changed the third one that time!" "Wanna get some cider?" Power asked his brother. "I think we could all use it." "C'mon guys," Thunder said, "you know we don't drink before a show." He held a straight face for several seconds under his bandmates' incredulous looks, then broke down with a laugh. "Buck yes, if all the bands are going to be like this, we'll need a lot of cider. "Huh, these guys are pretty good," Wing bobbed her head in time with the music. Deadpony was the fourth band of the evening, and if they didn't play quite as hard and heavy as the others, they were undoubtedly the most musical band to so far. Power Chord finished draining his mug and clapped a hoof on the bar for another. "What, you nervous?" Thunder asked Power. "They're not bad, but they're no match for us." Power shrugged. "Yeah, just nerves, I guess. We've never done the Battle before." Thunder looked to his other side, where Bass Groove was staring blankly into his own glass. Thunder waved a hoof in front of his face. "Wha?" Bass's head snapped up. Thunder sighed at his bleary, unfocused eyes. "Might wanna take it easy," Thunder suggested, "we're playing in an hour or so." "What, you think I can't handle it?" Bass spat. Thunder bit down on his temper. "I'm sure you can handle it, but if we go up there too drunk to play, we're going to look really bucking stupid." Bass snorted and took another swig. Thunder shook his head and took a drink of his own. The Battle's sixth band finished tearing up the venue with their own special brand of metal. They began packing up their instruments to halfhearted cheers and a smattering of applause. Six bands had played so far, and only two had been worth the air they used to do it. It was now well after midnight, and My Metal Pony was feeling the effects of the late hours and the alcohol they'd consumed. "C'mon guys, we're up," Thunder stood and stumbled slightly as he led the way to the stage. "Alright, jus' a second," Power slurred. He picked up the pitcher they were sharing and carried it up to the stage with him. They didn't need to worry about setting up their own gear—that's what roadies were for—so they had nothing to do but drink for the next several minutes as instruments and amps were plugged in and tested. At long last, Thunder took his place center-stage. The crowd, most if not all of whom knew My Metal Pony, roared their approval. "Alright, bucks and fillies," Thunder began. The room seemed to swim in his view. "We've had a lot of bands play tonight." He paused a moment to let the crowd anticipate what he might say, what compliments he might pay to their opponents. "Well, we are not those bands!" A combination of laughter and cheering met this pronouncement. "We are," he dropped his voice into the growl he used to perform, "My Metal Pony, and we are here to melt your bucking muzzles off! Wing Beat!" The pegasus knocked her drumsticks together to set the rhythm. Too slow, Thunder thought with a grimace, but there was nothing for it. ... Damn, Thunder thought as the audience applauded. They were still having the same issues they'd had at practice: the music was correct, more or less, but the spark just wasn't there. He glanced behind him. Power Chord seemed to be having trouble standing up straight, though luckily he could still shred like a bucking monster. Bass's eyes were dull, his attention clearly elsewhere. Well, this is bucking fantastic. "I think you all know this next one!" he roared, "Pink Fluffy Unicorns—!" he nosed the mic so that it faced the audience. "Dancing on Your Grave!" came the response. It was a crowd favorite, but they didn't seem quite able to engage them this time. A halfhearted mosh pit started and dispersed within a few seconds, a couple of ponies stomped or pumped their hooves to the music, but overall it lacked the energy and impact that their music should have. A few painful minutes later, the last notes faded into nothingness. "Thank you!" Thunder shouted into the silence. "Once again, we are My Metal Pony! We've got Power Chord on guitar!" Power strummed a few notes as a greeting. "Bass Groove on bass!" Bass simply lifted a hoof to acknowledge the crowd. "Wing Beat on drums!" Wing at least pretended to be engaged, and produced a whirlwind of noise with her drum set. "I am Thunder Growl, and this next song is called Black Crystal!" ... In this manner, My Metal Pony struggled through the most lackluster performance they'd given in years. When the last few claps died away, Thunder thanked the crowd once more for coming out and led the way off the stage. Their pitcher of cider was long since empty, and he thought they could all use another one. Maybe another one each. They settled in at the bar. It had been a bad set, but it was over. Now all that was left was to wait for the judges to declare My Metal Pony the winner of the Battle so that they could all go home. "What's taking so long?" Power grumbled after a while. Surely it didn't take nearly fifteen minutes to decide that they were better than the crappy local bands they'd gone up against tonight. "Looks like they're still talking," Wing said, looking to the back of the room where the three judges sat. "Come on already, my head hurts like Tartarus," Thunder complained. "There we go," Wing said as one of the judges stood. The judge, an earth pony with what seemed to be a report card for a cutie mark, walked up to the front of the room and stepped onstage. "Well, mares and gentlestallions," he began in a deep, rich voice. He did not seem to be feeling the effects of the late hour at all, and was sober as... well, sober as a judge. "we've had quite a Battle tonight, haven't we? Let's have a round of applause for our competitors." The audience—what was left of it—obliged, stomping their hooves loudly on the wooden floor. "It was a close match tonight. Very close. I apologize for the delay, but my fellow judges and I were having trouble deciding who should take this round." The members of My Metal Pony shared disbelieving looks. "However, after a great deal of debate, I am pleased to announce our winners. The winner of this preliminary round of the Eighth Equestrian Battle of the Bands is..." "For alicorns' sake, skip the dramatic pause," Thunder mumbled. His stomach was turning somersaults. However badly they'd played, he'd never imagined that they could lose in the first round. If it really was that close... "My Metal Pony!" As one, the four bandmates breathed a relieved sigh. "Let's get the buck out of here," Power said. The others could not have agreed more. "So, what the Tartarus happened last night?" Wing asked the others as they sat in their hotel room. Power groaned and buried his head under his forelegs. Thunder wasn't sure if it was because he was embarrassed or because he had a headache. Thunder massaged his own throbbing temples as he thought of how to respond. "We barely scraped through, and we weren't even against the bands who were supposed to be real competition for us. We sucked," he said frankly. "But why?" Wing pressed. "We don't suck." "You guys were right," Bass whimpered. "I wasn't ready for this." Thunder sighed. He'd really hoped that this could wait until they weren't so hungover. "None of us were," he said. "We've all got so much horseapples going on in our lives right now that we can't focus on the music." "You're fine, though," Power said, zeroing in on what he meant. "Cacophony didn't get you." Thunder shook his head. "We're a band. More than that, we're friends. Your problems are my problems, and we need to figure out what we're going to do about them." "Oh, Thunder," Wing said with a smile, "that's... probably the sappiest bucking thing I've ever heard you say." Thunder snorted. "I think Ponyville's a bad influence on me." "Alright, you sound like you've got something in mind," Power said. "Yeah, and you're not going to like it." Thunder said. "We need to get you guys some help." "No," Bass snapped. "I said it to Power in the hospital, and I'm saying it to you now. I'm not some bucking nutjob, and I don't need a shrink." "Bass, cool it," Wing said. More calmly, she turned to Thunder. "So you're saying we should see, what, a therapist? A psychiatrist?" Thunder took a deep breath and let it out. Getting angry wouldn't help, or so he told himself. "Berry was telling me that there's a place in Canterlot. The princesses set it up for Cacophony's victims. Apparently a lot of ponies were pretty messed up after it took them." "You think it'll help?" Wing asked. "I gotta say, I wouldn't mind getting rid of these nightmares." "You're going along with this?" Power said. "Well, I'm not having any nightmares." "No," Thunder retorted, "just panic attacks almost every day." "See," Bass shot at his brother, "you were all for it when it was just me. Not the same when it's somepony telling you that you're bucked in the head, is it?" "Look—" Thunder slammed a hoof down on the table, leaving a nick in the wood— "the next round of the Battle is a month from now. If we play like we did last night, we'll get laughed off the stage. That means we've got a month to get our shit together. If you've got a better idea, I'd love to hear it." Wing Beat looked around at her bandmates uncomfortably. "I think we should try it. What have we got to lose?" "You mean besides our reputations, our pride, our fans, and our friends?" Bass spat. "What would ponies think of us if they find out we're nuts?" "I'll go with you, Wing," Thunder said over his rant. Bass sputtered to a stop. "What did you say?" Wing asked hopefully. "I said I'd go with you," Thunder repeated uncomfortably. He scratched his mane nervously. "Y'know, moral support or whatever." "Yeah, or whatever," Wing Beat laughed. "Thank you, I really appreciate that." Power Chord looked from Thunder to Wing Beat. He evidently decided that he couldn't let Thunder show him up in front of his marefriend, because he abruptly declared, "I'll go, too." "You're kidding," Bass said. "Just a minute ago you were saying you didn't need to." "Maybe Thunder's right," Power answered. "Come on, the rest of us are all doing it. You should come too." "No. No way," Bass shook his head. "It doesn't mean you're weak, or crazy, or any of that shit," Thunder said, repeating something Berry had told him back in Ponyville. "If you get sick, you go see a doctor. It's the same thing." "Forget it," Bass growled back at him. "I'm not going. Drop it." Thunder gritted his teeth angrily. "Fine," he answered, "the rest of us will go, you stay here and rot." "Thunder!" Wing reprimanded him. "Bass," she said more calmly, "if the rest of us go check this place out, and it seems like it'll help, will you at least think about coming with us next time?" "You're going to sound like a naggy little filly if you say no," Power warned him. "Gee, thanks for the support, bro," Bass spat. "Fine, you guys check this place out, I'll think about it." "When are we going?" Power asked. Wing shrugged. "No time like the present, right? We've got nothing going for the next month." "Get some breakfast and head to Canterlot, then?" Power asked. Thunder nodded. "Thanks, guys." They left Bass to his grumbling.
InvitationThunder Growl roared along with the brutal lyrics that crashed through the open-air concert venue. "There's... nothing to save... you're my slave... burn the earth!" He was not on stage this time, but rather was enjoying the savage music produced by Dethkolt, the greatest death metal band in Equestria. Pour the gas, light the match, burn! A stallion even larger than Thunder crashed into his side, sending him staggering several steps. Thunder turned around with a fierce grin and returned the favor, and within moments a bone-breaking mosh pit formed within the tightly-packed crowd. Some ponies backed off to make room while others threw themselves in with wild abandon Pour the gas, light the match, burn! A very familiar mint-green pegasus swooped down from the sky to join the party. Thunder cried out with delight at seeing Wing Beat, the drummer for his band, coming to mosh with them. He immediately welcomed her to the party with a full-force shoulder tackle, but she avoided the attempt by slipping around him to the side. Pour the gas light the match *burn,* pour the gas light the match *burn!* Thunder frowned. That wasn't proper mosh pit etiquette at all. He tried again, but she caught him by the shoulders and shook him, breaking through his frenzy with her urgency. Thunder at last realized that something was wrong. Wing Beat's eyes were wide and terrified and the hooves on his shoulders were trembling. "Wing?" Thunder tried to shout over the deafening music. "What is it?" Wing Beat shook her head and gestured away from the crowd, toward the more open and quieter space near the back of the venue. She couldn't hear him. Thunder, his eyes narrowing with concern, pushed his way through the crowd and followed her out. Wing Beat was practically prancing as she walked, and her wings kept snapping open and closed, as if she wanted to avoid all of this trouble and take to the sky again. Thunder shoved his way between ponies a bit more roughly and finally came side-by-side with her. "Wing, what's wrong?" he shouted into her ear. "It's Bass!" she shouted back. Bass Groove was the bassist for their band. Wing's eyes filled with tears even as Thunder watched, and Thunder's stomach twisted into knots. Something was very wrong here. "What about him?" Thunder asked. Wing Beat tried to speak but couldn't form the words. She just shook her head and motioned urgently for him to follow. The two finally broke free of the crowd and trotted toward the back, near the entrance. At first Thunder thought that she meant to lead them straight out of the venue, but she changed directions a moment later and Thunder realized that their true destination was the nurse's station that had been set up nearby. Such things were a necessity at concerts like this; there was bound to be an injury or two from over-enthusiastic moshing, not to mention the possibility of alcohol poisoning. Thunder himself had been running a nice buzz, though it was now largely pushed aside by a flood of adrenaline and his concern for his bandmate. Wing Beat pushed open the makeshift door of the nurse's station—it was no more than a piece of fabric draped across the opening—and led Thunder inside. Thunder scanned the inside of the pavilion and quickly found the pony he was looking for. A deep blue unicorn lay unconscious on a bed in the corner, with a red unicorn sitting beside him. The blue unicorn was Bass Groove, and the red one was his brother Power Chord. Power was gently stroking his brother's hoof. As Thunder drew nearer he saw that Power Chord's eyes were red and swollen, nearly matching his bright red coat, and the unicorn had dark, wet patches running down the sides of his face. He had been crying, and quite a lot from the look of it. "Power Chord!" Thunder shouted. He immediately winced as nearly every pony in the pavilion shushed him at once. "Power," he asked again, more quietly, "what happened?" "Bass, he—" Power choked out. "He what?!" Thunder demanded. Bucked if he sounded angry, he was angry. He was angry because he was terrified and nopony seemed to want to tell him what was going on. "Thunder." Wing Beat laid a hoof on his shoulder and gently but firmly drew him a few steps away. "I came to get you because Power Chord wouldn't leave his side. I don't blame him, either." "Wing Beat, are you going to tell me just what the buck happened to our bassist?" Thunder asked quietly. "He—" Wing swallowed hard. "He tried to kill himself." Thunder's stomach plummeted. He felt like his innards had been replaced with ice. "He what?" Thunder asked softly. "We were at the bar," Wing said, fighting back frightened tears. "He'd just finished a beer. I don't know what made him do it, but he suddenly just freaked out. He'd been acting weird for a while. He kept trying to talk about everything that happened with Cacophony, but Power and I blew him off, I guess. It was still too painful, you know? Anyway, finally he just flipped, said he couldn't take it anymore. He smashed the bottle and used it to... to..." Wing shut her eyes tightly closed and shook her head, the tears finally spilling forth as her body shook with sobs. Thunder gently shushed her and pulled the distraught pegasus into a tight hug. It wasn't easy to comfort her when he was doing his best to keep his own feelings in check at the same time, but he had to do what he could. Thunder wanted to scream. He wanted to punch Bass Groove for trying to off himself and to punch Power Chord and Wing Beat for letting things go this far. Some part of him, however, knew that that was absolutely the wrong way to deal with this situation. Giving in to his anger wouldn't help anypony. "Come on," Thunder said after a long moment, "let's go talk to them, okay?" Wing Beat shivered and nodded slowly, and the two ponies went to join their bandmates. "Hey Power," Wing Beat said shakily, "how're you holding up?" "I'm... I'm good." Power tried to smile and failed. "They said he'll be okay, he just needs to rest. He," Power swallowed hard, "he lost a lot of blood. There's an ambulance on the way." "Good," Thunder grunted. He stepped over to look down at Bass Groove. The unicorn was pale under his vivid blue coat and his left foreleg was elevated and wrapped tightly in bandages. Thunder gritted his teeth angrily as he looked at his bandmate. What the buck had Bass been thinking? He knew his friends had been a little off since being captured by Cacophony, but this was just way too much. A nurse came over holding fresh bandages. "Are you this pony's family?" she asked Wing and Thunder. Thunder shook his head. "We're his bandmates." "I see. Could you please excuse us for a moment? I need to speak with his brother privately." Thunder was a heartbeat from refusing, but he allowed Wing Beat to draw him away. "How is he?" Power Chord couldn't help but ask again, as he had asked several times in the last half hour. Gentlehoof, the nurse, was nothing if not kind and patient. "He'll be alright for now, I'm just concerned about what might happen down the road." That was new. "What do you mean?" Gentlehoof checked Bass's bandages and determined that they did not need changing just yet. "Has he ever had an episode like this before?" she asked. "You mean has he ever tried to..." Power couldn't make himself say the words. The nurse nodded and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "No. No, this was totally unexpected. If Wing and I hadn't stopped him, he'd have gone for his other foreleg too." Gentlehoof squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. "You and Wing most likely saved his life today." Power gave her a shaky smile. "So, what did you mean when you said you were worried about what might happen later?" The nurse took a step back and met his eyes. "Power Chord, I am going to recommend, strongly, that your brother seek psychiatric help. Bass got lucky today. If he ever tries again... he might not." Power swallowed and nodded. His stomach felt like lead. He wasn't sure if he wanted to cry or throw up, but if he didn't vent somehow he might go crazy. "I'll... I'll talk to him. When he wakes up." A pegasus wearing a white coat pushed the entrance flap aside and stepped into the nurse's station. He glanced around quickly, and Gentlehoof waved him over. "This is the patient?" the pegasus asked without preamble. The nurse nodded. The pegasus turned and waved to two other ponies whom Power hadn't seen come in, and they came over with a stretcher. It gave him a sharp pang to see them loading up his brother like luggage to be carried away, even if it was for Bass's own good. The three medical ponies departed, the pegasus already barking orders for supplies and an IV to replace some of the fluids Bass had lost. Freed from the need to stay strong for his brother, Power Chord buried his face in his forehooves and surrendered once more to tears. Wing Beat thought she might burst from the emotions pent up inside her. They'd all been having trouble coping with what happened to them inside Cacophony, but she never thought one of them would go this far. She was terrified for Bass, but she was also frightened for herself and for Power Chord. Nopony had seen this coming. What if next time it was one of them? What if the others weren't there to stop them? She was sad and frightened all at once, and she unconsciously hugged herself tightly with her wings as if to keep it all inside. "Thunder Growl? Wing Beat?" a voice called from the sky. Thunder looked up in time to see a pegasus mailpony swooping down. She landed in front of the two of them. "There you are," she said to Thunder. "You're never home, are you? I've been trying to give this to you for weeks." "I am not in the bucking mood," Thunder snarled at her. "Woah, take it easy there." The pegasus held up her forelegs placatingly. "I just need to give you a letter, it's urgent. They told me to make sure I personally got it to you." Thunder lowered his head and bared his teeth in rage. Wing Beat stepped in before things could get too ugly. "I'll take it," she said. Her voice was choked, but she managed to get the words out. The pegasus handed the letter over and looked at the two of them. "Is everything alright?" she asked. "No, everything is bucking not alright!" Thunder shouted at her. "Thunder." Wing put a hoof on his trembling shoulder. "Don't be a plothole, it's not her fault." The pegasus had taken a step back when Thunder started yelling. She looked from the two of them to the nurse's station behind them. As she watched, Bass was carried out on a stretcher. The mailpony finally seemed to put two and two together. "I'll," she said quietly, "I'll just..." She flapped her wings hard and disappeared into the sky. Wing Beat watched her go, then looked longingly after the aerial ambulance that was carrying away Bass Groove. She wanted desperately to follow, but there was nothing she could do for him now. As much to distract herself as anything else, Wing looked at the letter she had been given. She was surprised to see that it bore not only Thunder's name, but also her own, Power Chord's, and Bass Groove's. "What is it?" Thunder asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Wing carefully tore off the top of the envelope with her teeth and shook the contents into her hand. Thunder stepped around behind her to read over her shoulder. My Metal Pony is cordially invited to participate in the sixth annual Equestrian Battle of the Bands. Compete with bands from all across Equestria for fame, glory, and a 10,000 bit grand prize! "Holy buck," Thunder muttered when he saw the number. The first round of the Battle will be at the Pegadome in Manehattan. An address followed, along with a date and arrival time for the competing bands. Wing gasped when she read it. "That's a week from today!" The mailmare had said she'd been trying to find Thunder for weeks, she supposed. Thunder shook his head. "Forget it. We can't do this now, not with Bass the way he is." Wing Beat sighed. "Yeah, I know, but holy alicorns... ten thousand bits!" The rustling of a tent flap caught their attention, and they turned to see Power Chord leaving the pavilion escorted by the kind nurse who had been tending Bass. She was speaking soothingly to the distraught unicorn. "Your brother is alive right now because of what you did," she was saying. "Just make sure he gets the help he needs, and he'll be fine." "Come on, Power," Wing Beat said gently, "let's get out of here. We can go visit Bass in the morning, alright?" Power Chord nodded and wiped his eyes with a hoof. Wing Beat draped one of her wings over him and pulled him close. "It's gonna be alright," Wing promised. "Yeah," Thunder agreed. He set a hoof on the guitarist's shoulder. "We'll make sure of it." He firmly drew the unicorn along with them. "Come on, let's go."
Family MattersBuck you, Cacophony! Thunder thought furiously as he paced around his hotel suite's living room. Wing Beat and Power Chord were in the bedroom. The door was open, and if Thunder cared to look he would have seen Wing talking to Power, trying to get him to settle down. Even after we beat you, you won't leave my friends alone. Buck you! Thunder's thoughts fuzzed into angry incoherence as he took a pull from the bottle on the living area's small table. The fiery taste of apples and alcohol drowned his dark musings for a moment, but only for a moment. "Thunder, will you stop that damn pacing?" Thunder looked up to see Wing Beat in the doorway of the bedroom. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. "Sorry." "No problem. Power's asleep—finally—so just don't wake him up." She stepped into the main room and gently shut the bedroom door behind her. "You're not staying with him?" Thunder asked. Wing shook her head. "I'm afraid I'd wake him up if... well, y'know." "Right," Thunder nodded slowly. Wing Beat had been having terrible nightmares since her time as Cacophony's prisoner. She sometimes screamed in her sleep. "Gotcha." "Oh, come on," Wing Beat said suddenly as she caught sight of the half-empty liquor bottle on the table. She walked over and picked it up. "You might at least have offered to share." Without waiting for an answer, she put the bottle in her mouth and tilted her head back, letting the liquor pour down her throat. "Uh. You want some?" Thunder asked belatedly. He gave her a second to drink, but she showed no signs of stopping. "So—" Wing held up a hoof to indicate wait. After several more swallows she finally lowered the bottle with a harsh exhale. "Sorry, you were saying?" "I was saying," Thunder snatched the bottle back and was dismayed to find it nearly empty, "what do we do now? About Bass, and the Battle, and everything." Wing shook her head. "There's no way we can do the Battle now, not with Bass like that. It's only a week away, that's not enough time. I say we don't even bring it up." Thunder nodded reluctantly. "I agree, but buck... ten thousand bits." "It would be nice, but we really don't need the money." She was right about that. My Metal Pony's producer had taken full advantage of Thunder's role in stopping Cacophony and bringing music back to Equestria. The band's record sales had never been better. "Yeah, you're right," Thunder sighed. "Bass is more important right now. We'll go see him in the morning." "Yeah." Wing walked over to the suite's minibar and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, her drink of choice. She stumbled only slightly as she brought it back to the table. She took a long pull straight from the bottle as Thunder finished off the last of the brandy. "So, you going to share that?" Thunder asked. Wing Beat groaned and threw a wing over her eyes as the sun poured into the suite's living area. These days, drinking herself into a stupor was the only way she could guarantee herself a decent night's sleep. It worked well enough, but it made for some rough mornings. She half-rolled, half-fell off of the couch she'd been sleeping on. She had opted to stay there rather than going back into the bedroom she currently shared with Power Chord, just in case she had another one of her nightmares. Thunder Growl, she assumed, was in the second of the two bedrooms attached to the living area. He and Bass Groove had each had a bed in there. Wing smacked her dry lips and stumbled past the two closed doors toward the bathroom. A few mouthfuls of water from the sink relieved her burning thirst and woke her up somewhat. She did not feel any other ill effects from last night's drinking, for which she was grateful. As she was not feeling up to going anywhere just yet, Wing called down to the front desk to order room service. She was waiting for her breakfast to arrive when Power Chord emerged from his room. Power Chord looked terrible. He'd been prone to panic attacks ever since being freed from Cacophony, and Bass nearly dying had triggered a terrible episode. Wing had been up late into the night with Power, trying to soothe him enough to get some sleep. The frantic unicorn had eventually drifted off, but clearly his sleep had been anything but restful. "Morning. How are you?" Wing asked, though the answer was plain to see. "Been better," Power answered. "Thanks for looking after me last night." He sounded rather embarassed. "No problem. You want breakfast? I just ordered some." Power shook his head. "Not really hungry, but thanks. I'm gonna go visit Bass." "Let's wait until Thunder wakes up. He'd be pissed if we went without him." Power shuffled his hooves. "I'd rather go now. You guys can catch up later, alright?" Wing took a couple of steps toward him. "I know you're worried, but I really think we should all go together," she said. "What if something happened to you, too?" Power exhaled and his ears drooped. "What if I tried to do something to myself, you mean." "Power—" "No, you're right. With... well, everything that's going on, it's probably better that we stick together." Wing Beat draped a wing protectively over the unicorn. "It'll be alright. They had it under control. I'm sure Bass is fine." "Yeah." Power nuzzled her briefly. "I'm sure you're right." Wing Beat's food arrived about ten minutes later: oatmeal and a vegetable platter. She and Power shared the food while they waited for their last bandmate to finally wake up. Bass Groove's foreleg hurt, a bone-deep ache that he could not relieve no matter how he positioned or massaged it. A combination of magical and mundane treatments had closed the wound he'd inflicted on himself, but the doctors had told him that there was internal damage to the nerves and muscles that may never fully heal. There was a pale white scar running up from his ankle, and he would bear that for the rest of his life. With a sigh, Bass gave up on getting any more sleep. The sun streaming in through the window of his small hospital room and his own discomfort would not allow it. Instead, Bass cautiously slid to the edge of the bed and lowered his legs to the ground. He stood on three legs for a moment, keeping his injured foreleg off the ground. Then, slowly, he lowered his fourth hoof to the floor. Bass immediately gasped as a sharp pain lanced through his leg. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to apply more weight to the injured limb. The nurse had told him that it would be important for him to excercise the leg and try to restore its strength, though she had warned that he might never fully regain the use of it. Indeed, he found himself walking with a pronounced limp, as though one of his legs were asleep. He felt a pang as he realized that, were it not for the luck of him having been born a unicorn, his musical career would be over; there was no way he would ever play an instrument with that leg. His throat tightened up with fear and shame. Some time later a nurse entered his room with food and a small paper cup of pills. "How are we feeling this morning?" she asked, her voice much too chipper. Bass winced. The nurse was projecting the false positivity that one used to speak with children and crazy ponies. He buried his head deeper into the pillow, hoping that she would think he was still asleep. He wasn't up to facing anypony just then, not with a scar on his leg and fresh tear tracks on his cheeks. "I know you're awake, I heard you walking around in here," the nurse chided him. So much for that. "Up and at 'em, Bass!" she chirped. "We need to get you fed, you've got some visitors waiting to see you." That finally caught Bass's attention. He lifted his head out of the pillow. "Visitors?" he croaked, his voice raspy and nasal with crying. "Oh dear," the nurse tsked as she saw the state he was in. She pulled a few tissues from the box on his bedside table and gently hoofed them over to him. "Get yourself cleaned up. Come on now, you can't see your parents like that." "My parents?" A bolt of panic shot through his stomach and he shook his head. His parents were absolutely the last ponies he wanted to see right now. How would he ever explain this to them? The nurse frowned disapprovingly. "Is anything wrong?" Was anything not wrong? "I don't want to see them right now," Bass mumbled. "Not like this." "They're very worried about you, you know," she answered. "At times like this it's important to be around ponies who love you. I really recommend that you at least let them see you, for your own sake if not for theirs." Bass looked away from her to stare at the floor. The nurse sighed. "I'll tell you what: eat your breakfast and take your medicine, and just think about it, okay? I'll be back in a few minutes to check on you, you can tell me then if you want to see them or not." Bass nodded. "Alright. Thanks." The nurse left the tray of food and medicine and let herself out, leaving Bass alone with his shame. Power Chord practically galloped into the Manehattan hospital, followed closely by Thunder and Wing. He approached the receptionist and asked for Bass's room. "Bass Groove?" The receptionist checked her list. "Third floor, trauma ward, but he's got visitors right now. I'll have to ask you to wait until they leave." "Visitors? Is it our parents?" Power asked. At her confused look, he explained, "I'm Bass's brother, Power Chord." "I see. And these other two?" "Friends," Thunder answered. "I understand. I can allow you to see him, Mr. Chord, but I'm afraid that you two will have to wait. We don't want to overwhelm him." "Hey—" "Of course." Wing Beat held out a hoof to forestall Thunder's angry outburst. Power Chord turned to look uncertainly at the two of them. "It's alright," Wing reassured him. "Go see your brother." Power nodded gratefully and left for Bass's room. It took only a few minutes before he arrived at the door the receptionist had indicated. He hesitated, then uncertainly lifted a hoof and knocked. The faint chatter that had been coming from inside cut off abruptly. A moment passed and then the door opened slightly, a dark brown unicorn stallion peering through the opening. When he caught sight of Power Chord, the unicorn's eyes widened and he threw the door open. "Power!" The stallion stepped forward and caught him up in a rough hug. "Oof. Hi, Dad." Power freed himself from the crushing embrace and stepped into the room. His gaze was immediately drawn toward the room's single bed, where their mother was tearfully hugging Bass. "How is he?" Power asked quietly. His father, Treble, sighed heavily. "See for yourself." Power uncertainly approached the bed. "Bass?" Bass gasped and pulled himself out of their mother's forelegs. He looked up, and Power saw that their mother wasn't the only one crying. "Power? I," he hiccuped, "I didn't hear you come in." "Sorry." Power sat on the edge of the bed. "How're you holding up, little bro?" Bass shrugged. "They fixed my leg," he answered, avoiding the real question. "They just want to check me over once more and then I'll be good to leave." Cinnamon Rondo, their mother, gently stroked Bass's mane. "He said he might never fully regain the use of that leg." Her voice cracked and she put a hoof over her mouth, trying to fight back more tears. "Mom," Bass protested, "it'll be alright. Besides, I can still play without it." Power's ears lowered in nervousness. "Look, Bass," he said hesitantly, "I was talking to that nurse back at the concert. She thinks, well—" "No." "Huh?" "I know what you're going to say, and no, I don't need a shrink. I just... I just freaked out a bit. I was drunk, and tired, and not feeling well, and I just lost it for a second. I'm fine." "You know there's nothing to be ashamed of," their mother answered him. "It's no different from seeing a doctor when you're sick. You need to take care of yourself." Bass shook his head. "I told you, I'm fine. It won't happen again." "Bass," Treble said sternly, "your brother is right. You have to get the help you need." "I don't need any help!" Bass shouted back. "I'm not bucking crazy, and I don't need a damned therapist!" "Bass Groove, you do not talk to me like that." Treble shoved a hoof into Bass's face. In the face of his son's burning glare, he sighed heavily and relented. "Just promise me you'll think about it, alright?" Bass gritted his teeth and looked away, his face flushed with anger and embarassment. "Sure," he mumbled. "What was that? I couldn't hear you." "Yeah, Dad, I'll think about it." Cinnamon smiled. "Thank you." She hugged him tightly. "You know we love you. We just want you to be alright." "Yeah," Bass sniffed, "I know. Oh!" he pulled himself away from Cinnamon. "Power, there was something I wanted to talk to you about." "What's up?" "We've been invited to play in the Equestrian Battle of the Bands, you probably heard already." Power froze. "Yeah," he said carefully, "I heard. How did you hear about it?" "It was on the radio," Bass answered. "They were advertising that we were invited, but not confirmed. We're doing it, right?" Power looked down at his little brother. "Are you sure you're up for it?" he asked seriously. "The first round is only a week away." Bass paused, then blinked once as the pieces came together in his head. "You weren't going to tell me, were you? You didn't think I could handle it." "We weren't sure you'd be ready, after... after last night." "Alicorns dammit, Power, I'm fine!" Bass burst out. "I'm sure as Tartarus not going to be the reason why My Metal Pony backs out of the Battle. I'll be out of the hospital in a few hours and we can get practicing." "You sure?" Power asked again. "Yes, dammit, I'm bucking sure!" Bass shouted. "Bass Groove, you watch your mouth!" Bass subsided. "Sorry, Mom," he mumbled. "I think it's about time we left," Treble said. "Bass needs to rest, and then it sounds like you all have some practicing to do." "Right." Cinnamon hugged Bass once more and then reluctantly left his bedside. "Power, are you coming?" Power took a hesitant step away from his brother. He didn't feel right leaving now, when there was so much uncertainty and anger between them, but maybe that was exactly why he should. "See ya, Bass." "Bye."
Rehearsal"Hey Bass, your A is a bit flat," Power called to his brother as they cooled down from their latest song. "Hey Bass, your A is a bit flat," Bass mimicked sourly, turning the appropriate peg with his teeth to adjust the pitch. "Sorry, I thought you might want to know that you sound like crap." "Oh, buck you, you didn't even want me here." "Well excuse me for worrying about my little brother!" "For alicorns' sake, both of you shut up!" Wing Beat flew between the two unicorns and cuffed them with her wings. "Sorry," Bass sighed. He tried his A string again and nodded at the now-correct pitch it produced. "Let's try it again." Thunder ground his teeth. Those three had been snapping at each other since they walked in, and Thunder had just been doing his best to stay out of it lest he say something they'd all regret. "Alright," he forced himself to say calmly, "Wing?" Wing Beat knocked her drumsticks together to set the time and they launched into the next song on their list. The song sounded about as good as the rest of their practice had, which was to say that the correct notes were played at the correct times. Though there was nothing techinally wrong with their playing, all four could immediately tell that it wasn't right either. Whatever it was that made their music work—the heart, the intensity, the magic, whatever you wanted to call it— simply wasn't there. After powering through an uncomfortable four minutes, Thunder finished the song with a long, drawn-out growl as the instruments faded out. He took a deep breath, more of a sigh, and turned to look back at the others. Bass was downcast, staring at the floor. Power was gritting his teeth in frustration, and Wing Beat glared angrily. Thunder felt a flash of anger as well, but he forced it down. He made himself remember that these were his closest friends, and that they were going through something he didn't understand. With a massive exertion of willpower, he managed to speak in a normal voice. "Guys, I think we should call it a day." "It hasn't even been an hour," Power Chord protested. "The Battle's in less than a week." "It's obvious we aren't getting anything done here," Thunder replied. "Because of me, right?" Bass snapped. Thunder stomped angrily. "I didn't say that." "But you're thinking it. Look, I know you guys weren't planning to tell me about the Battle. You don't think I can handle it." "Bass, you had just tried to kill yourself," his brother said. "Yeah, I bucked up, alright? I know! But we're a band, and you don't seem to think that I'm part of that band anymore." "You need to putting words in our mouths," Wing told him. "Nopony thinks you shouldn't be in the band anymore." "You've got a funny way of showing it. Really makes a stallion feel welcome, knowing that his friends don't want him playing in the Battle with them." "Bass Groove, you need to bucking stop." Thunder thrust a hoof into Bass's face. "We were worried about you, and maybe we should have brought it up, but we didn't want you freaking out over the Battle when you had bigger problems. Now pull your bucking head out of your plot." Bass stared at the hoof right under his muzzle. He gritted his teeth as his eyes teared up, then he turned abruptly and started walking away from the others. "Sorry," he muttered. "You're right." "Bass!" Power Chord galloped over to his brother. "Just... just leave me alone, alright? We'll get together tomorrow for practice." Thunder sighed and ran a hoof through his tangled mane. He wasn't sure if he'd just made things better or worse. "What do you say we give it another day? Let's meet up the day after tomorrow, once everypony's cooled off." He looked around and the others nodded with varying degrees of reluctance. "It's only the first round of the Battle anyway," Power Chord reasoned. "We'll just be up against local bands, we're a horseshoe-in to win." "Yeah, we don't need to practice every day between now and then," Wing agreed. "We'll meet up once or twice more, but we'll be alright." Thunder nodded. "Sounds good. I'm gonna go see Berry. Take care of yourselves, alright?" "Right. You too." Wing answered. Power simply nodded, and Bass did not respond at all. Thunder left the studio and caught a cab for the train station. Within an hour he was on the train to Ponyville. He had a very strange history with Ponyville. It was where he had spent the worst time of his life, and yet he had nothing but good memories of the place. His three bandmates had all been taken by a monster called Cacophony, and Thunder had wound up in Ponyville after a failed operation by the Royal Guard to subdue the creature. It turned out to be more than coincidence; Princess Celestia had a hoof in the entire thing, and she had made sure that he would find his way to Ponyville and the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, just in case her guards failed. Thunder had been anything but easy to deal with back then. He'd been angry at himself and the world, prone to shouting at ponies who didn't deserve it and wanting nothing except to drink himself to oblivion. The six Bearers, as he'd heard them called, had helped him through those dark times with patience and understanding, even at his worst. Working together, they had managed to defeat Cacophony and bring back everyone the monster had taken, including Thunder's bandmates. He'd come a long way with the help of those six ponies and one other: Berry Punch, his not-quite-marefriend. They'd started as drinking buddies and had become something more, though they'd never made their relationship "official," whatever the buck that was supposed to mean. Right now he just wanted to spend time with someone who wouldn't make him want to kick something. As the train left Manehattan and wound its way through the countryside, Thunder nosed open his saddlebags and pulled out a flask. He didn't remember what he'd put in there, but the comforting weight assured him that it was something. He unscrewed the cap and a quick sniff revealed what he was in for: whiskey. Not his favorite, but it would do. He took a long pull as he watched the world outside go by. His body and thoughts relaxed by the fuzzy warmth of the liquor, Thunder turned his thoughts toward what was happening within My Metal Pony. His bandmates—his friends—were going through tough times, and he had no idea what to do about it. He tried to be a good friend, as Twilight and the others had been for him, but it didn't seem to be helping. The simple truth was that they were falling apart, as a band and as ponies. He took another swig and rested his head against the window, lost in thought. "Sir?" A hoof gently shook his shoulder. "Sir?" "Mm. Wha?" Thunder peeled his face away from the window and blinked bleary eyes. At some point his brooding meditation had turned into a nap. "Sir, this is your stop." Thunder shook his head to knock his jumbled thoughts into order. "Right. Thanks." He slung his saddlebags over his back and trotted out of the train. The ride from Manehattan to Ponyville was not a short one, and the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon to make way for Luna's moon. Princess Luna was another one who had helped him during those bad times. She was the one who had taught him to be open and honest with his friends, to talk about what was bothering him so that they could work through it. That was what he had come to Ponyville to do. Thunder passed through the market near the center of town, where most of the vendors were just beginning to pack up for the night. He waved to the few that he recognized from his last time here, but he didn't see any sign of Berry. "Oof!" Thunder grunted as he was unexpectedly hit in the side by a yellow blur with a large pink ribbon on its head. "Hi, Apple Bloom." "Well howdy, Thunder!" Applejack, one of the ponies who had helped defeat Cacophony, waved her Stetson to get his attention. "Ya shoulda told me you were comin' to town!" "Hey Applejack," he trotted over and accepted a hug from his friend, "I didn't know I was coming myself. I just... I need to see Berry." "Everythin' alright?" Applejack asked. Something in his tone worried her. Thunder grunted. "Not really, no." "Shoot, sorry ta hear that. Well, you know where to find her." Thunder chuckled wryly. "Sure do. Thanks, AJ." Thunder trotted off toward the bar that Berry ran. The mare was well-known for sampling her own wares, but she still ran a good business—especially considering that it was the only bar in this small town. Thunder pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit room. Rather than being gloomy, the low lights provided a pleasant atmosphere, giving patrons the sense that this was a quiet place to relax and unwind from the day. He clopped a hoof on the bar. "Maretini," he ordered, "with a kiss." "Thunder!" Berry called, her face lighting up as she saw him. She laughed at his order. "Just a sec." The wine-colored mare poured the drink: gin and vermouth garnished with an olive. She set the glass down and tapped it with the vermouth bottle—the "kiss" Thunder had asked for—then set the bottle down and gave him the kiss he actually wanted. "Do you even like maretinis?" Berry asked. "Not really." Thunder picked up the drink and knocked it back quickly so he wouldn't have to taste the gin. "What brings you to Ponyville?" "Hey, do I need a reason to come visit?" Thunder evaded. "Not that I'm not happy to see you," Berry said with a slight tilt to her head, "but isn't your band in a big competition soon? Shouldn't you be practicing?" Thunder winced. "How'd you hear about that?" "It's been all over the radio," Berry answered, "and it's all Vinyl's been talking about lately." Of course. Vinyl Scratch, also known as DJ Pon3, was a Ponyville local. She couldn't enter the Battle herself since it wasn't her genre of music, but no doubt she was excited about it. "Something wrong, hun?" Berry prodded him. "Yeah," Thunder sighed. "Things aren't going so good with the band." "Oh. That sucks." Berry glanced around the bar. It would be getting busy soon as ponies finished the day's work and filtered in, but for now it was almost empty. "What's the matter?" "Everything," Thunder grumbled. He shook his head and tried again without the melodrama. "The others are still really messed up from when they were absorbed by Cacophony. They've all got issues, and it's starting to mess up the band as a whole. We don't work well together anymore." Berry nodded slowly. "I know what you mean. I was only in there for a couple of days before you all saved me, and it gave me nightmares for weeks. To have been stuck there for over a month..." she shook her head. "You got counseling for it," Thunder said. He'd been unsure about it, but Berry had made the decision herself. "Did it help?" "Yes, it helped a lot," Berry answered. "They've actually set up a clinic in Canterlot for Cacophony's victims. I'm surprised you haven't heard about it." "We're pretty hard to get ahold of sometimes," Thunder mumbled, remembering the lengths the Battle's sponsors had to go to just to make sure My Metal Pony knew they were invited. "If they sent us anything, we might have missed it." "Mm." Berry nodded again. "For what it's worth, I really think they should at least check it out." "Canterlot, huh?" Thunder mused. "That's where it all ended." The caves beneath Canterlot were where the chaos spirit called Cacophony had made its home, and where the Bearers of Harmony had defeated it. "And how are you doing?" Berry broke into his silence. "Aside from the stuff with the band, I mean. You're not having nightmares or anything of your own, are you?" "Nah," Thunder shook his head, "Cacophony never got me, remember? I went through a bunch of manure when it got the others, but my friends helped me through it." "That's the problem, isn't it?" Berry said. "Princess Twilight and the others got you through your bad times, and you're trying to do the same for your friends now." "I..." Thunder chewed on that for a moment. "Yeah, I guess that's it. I don't really know how to be a good friend. Alicorns know I haven't had much practice at it." "Thunder Growl, you are a great friend," Berry scolded him, "and I won't hear a word against that." Thunder snorted. "No. Twilight and the others always know just what to say, or what to do. Me? I just yelled at Bass right after he tried to kill himself." "He did what?" Berry gasped. "Oh my stars, is he okay?" "He's alive, if that's what you mean. Doctor says he's got nerve damage, or muscle damage, or something. His leg might not fully heal." Berry's eyes filled up. Thunder bit back a sigh; he'd forgotten how prone Ponyville folk were to tears. "Hey," he reached a hoof across and laid it on Berry's, "come on, I just said he's alive. Don't cry." "Sorry." Berry took a moment to master herself. "Well, right now it's my turn to be a good friend." She leaned across the bar. "I think I know just how to cheer you up," she said, her voice husky. Thunder's eyes dilated and he licked his lips unconsciously. "Yeah?" "Yeah." Without breaking eye contact, Berry pulled a bottle of apple brandy from under the bar and set it between them. Thunder looked from the mare to the bottle and laughed. "Yeah, that'll work too." "S'like I was sayin'," Thunder slurred to the stallion next to him, making some sort of point about a story that was a tangent to another story which had branched off from whatever they'd originally been talking about, "a good friend always knows how to make a pony feel better, an' that Berry's a good friend." "Well, it's not hard making ponies feel better when you run a bar," the stallion answered with a guffaw. "I'll drink ta that!" Thunder sloppily poured a bit more cider into his mouth. "Alright, bucks and fillies, last call," Berry's voice carried through the bar. "Ah, buck." Thunder wondered if he could down what was left of this drink in time to order another before the bar closed. He considered the state of his thoughts and his stomach and decided against it. Instead he slapped another hooffull of bits on the bar as a tip and used the time to make one last trip to the bathroom. A few minutes later Thunder, feeling significantly more comfortable, returned to the bar to down the last couple mouthfuls of his cider. Only he and a couple of other patrons remained, Berry had closed the bar, and was currently cleaning up for the night. Thunder finished his last drink and gave a huge yawn. It was getting late, and the alcohol was making him tired. He must have dozed off for a minute, because he was surprised to feel warm, comforting hooves wrapped around him. "Come here, you," Berry said quietly, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Thunder sighed and nuzzled into her shoulder, drawing strength from her nearness. "I take it you're staying in Ponyville tonight?" Berry said. "I'm sure not goin' anywhere like this," Thunder slurred, proving the truth of his words as he tried to stand and stumbled. "Good," Berry purred. "Just give me a few minutes to finish up here and you can stay with me." "Thanks," Thunder said, and meant it. He waited around for the short time it took Berry to finish cleaning and putting everything away. When she was ready, Berry walked past him toward the door. She flicked his nose suggestively with her tail. "Coming?" Thunder gave a low chuckle. "Probably."
Round 1: VS Locals"Well," Wing Beat winced at the discordant noise tearing through the concert venue, "they're certainly enthusiastic." "Is that pony having a seizure or what?" Thunder asked. The Battle's opening band, Snoutbleed, had begun playing less than three minutes ago. Their singer had promptly fallen to the floor and was now rolling and thrashing around as he screamed into the microphone. Power Chord glanced at the list of bands slated to play that evening. There were five more between this band and My Metal Pony. "It's going to be a long night." "One hundred and five, one hundred and six," Bass Groove rattled off in a monotone, counting the number of times the current band had played the same three chords, "One hundred and... oh, wow, they changed the third one that time!" "Wanna get some cider?" Power asked his brother. "I think we could all use it." "C'mon guys," Thunder said, "you know we don't drink before a show." He held a straight face for several seconds under his bandmates' incredulous looks, then broke down with a laugh. "Buck yes, if all the bands are going to be like this, we'll need a lot of cider. "Huh, these guys are pretty good," Wing bobbed her head in time with the music. Deadpony was the fourth band of the evening, and if they didn't play quite as hard and heavy as the others, they were undoubtedly the most musical band to so far. Power Chord finished draining his mug and clapped a hoof on the bar for another. "What, you nervous?" Thunder asked Power. "They're not bad, but they're no match for us." Power shrugged. "Yeah, just nerves, I guess. We've never done the Battle before." Thunder looked to his other side, where Bass Groove was staring blankly into his own glass. Thunder waved a hoof in front of his face. "Wha?" Bass's head snapped up. Thunder sighed at his bleary, unfocused eyes. "Might wanna take it easy," Thunder suggested, "we're playing in an hour or so." "What, you think I can't handle it?" Bass spat. Thunder bit down on his temper. "I'm sure you can handle it, but if we go up there too drunk to play, we're going to look really bucking stupid." Bass snorted and took another swig. Thunder shook his head and took a drink of his own. The Battle's sixth band finished tearing up the venue with their own special brand of metal. They began packing up their instruments to halfhearted cheers and a smattering of applause. Six bands had played so far, and only two had been worth the air they used to do it. It was now well after midnight, and My Metal Pony was feeling the effects of the late hours and the alcohol they'd consumed. "C'mon guys, we're up," Thunder stood and stumbled slightly as he led the way to the stage. "Alright, jus' a second," Power slurred. He picked up the pitcher they were sharing and carried it up to the stage with him. They didn't need to worry about setting up their own gear—that's what roadies were for—so they had nothing to do but drink for the next several minutes as instruments and amps were plugged in and tested. At long last, Thunder took his place center-stage. The crowd, most if not all of whom knew My Metal Pony, roared their approval. "Alright, bucks and fillies," Thunder began. The room seemed to swim in his view. "We've had a lot of bands play tonight." He paused a moment to let the crowd anticipate what he might say, what compliments he might pay to their opponents. "Well, we are not those bands!" A combination of laughter and cheering met this pronouncement. "We are," he dropped his voice into the growl he used to perform, "My Metal Pony, and we are here to melt your bucking muzzles off! Wing Beat!" The pegasus knocked her drumsticks together to set the rhythm. Too slow, Thunder thought with a grimace, but there was nothing for it. ... Damn, Thunder thought as the audience applauded. They were still having the same issues they'd had at practice: the music was correct, more or less, but the spark just wasn't there. He glanced behind him. Power Chord seemed to be having trouble standing up straight, though luckily he could still shred like a bucking monster. Bass's eyes were dull, his attention clearly elsewhere. Well, this is bucking fantastic. "I think you all know this next one!" he roared, "Pink Fluffy Unicorns—!" he nosed the mic so that it faced the audience. "Dancing on Your Grave!" came the response. It was a crowd favorite, but they didn't seem quite able to engage them this time. A halfhearted mosh pit started and dispersed within a few seconds, a couple of ponies stomped or pumped their hooves to the music, but overall it lacked the energy and impact that their music should have. A few painful minutes later, the last notes faded into nothingness. "Thank you!" Thunder shouted into the silence. "Once again, we are My Metal Pony! We've got Power Chord on guitar!" Power strummed a few notes as a greeting. "Bass Groove on bass!" Bass simply lifted a hoof to acknowledge the crowd. "Wing Beat on drums!" Wing at least pretended to be engaged, and produced a whirlwind of noise with her drum set. "I am Thunder Growl, and this next song is called Black Crystal!" ... In this manner, My Metal Pony struggled through the most lackluster performance they'd given in years. When the last few claps died away, Thunder thanked the crowd once more for coming out and led the way off the stage. Their pitcher of cider was long since empty, and he thought they could all use another one. Maybe another one each. They settled in at the bar. It had been a bad set, but it was over. Now all that was left was to wait for the judges to declare My Metal Pony the winner of the Battle so that they could all go home. "What's taking so long?" Power grumbled after a while. Surely it didn't take nearly fifteen minutes to decide that they were better than the crappy local bands they'd gone up against tonight. "Looks like they're still talking," Wing said, looking to the back of the room where the three judges sat. "Come on already, my head hurts like Tartarus," Thunder complained. "There we go," Wing said as one of the judges stood. The judge, an earth pony with what seemed to be a report card for a cutie mark, walked up to the front of the room and stepped onstage. "Well, mares and gentlestallions," he began in a deep, rich voice. He did not seem to be feeling the effects of the late hour at all, and was sober as... well, sober as a judge. "we've had quite a Battle tonight, haven't we? Let's have a round of applause for our competitors." The audience—what was left of it—obliged, stomping their hooves loudly on the wooden floor. "It was a close match tonight. Very close. I apologize for the delay, but my fellow judges and I were having trouble deciding who should take this round." The members of My Metal Pony shared disbelieving looks. "However, after a great deal of debate, I am pleased to announce our winners. The winner of this preliminary round of the Eighth Equestrian Battle of the Bands is..." "For alicorns' sake, skip the dramatic pause," Thunder mumbled. His stomach was turning somersaults. However badly they'd played, he'd never imagined that they could lose in the first round. If it really was that close... "My Metal Pony!" As one, the four bandmates breathed a relieved sigh. "Let's get the buck out of here," Power said. The others could not have agreed more. "So, what the Tartarus happened last night?" Wing asked the others as they sat in their hotel room. Power groaned and buried his head under his forelegs. Thunder wasn't sure if it was because he was embarrassed or because he had a headache. Thunder massaged his own throbbing temples as he thought of how to respond. "We barely scraped through, and we weren't even against the bands who were supposed to be real competition for us. We sucked," he said frankly. "But why?" Wing pressed. "We don't suck." "You guys were right," Bass whimpered. "I wasn't ready for this." Thunder sighed. He'd really hoped that this could wait until they weren't so hungover. "None of us were," he said. "We've all got so much horseapples going on in our lives right now that we can't focus on the music." "You're fine, though," Power said, zeroing in on what he meant. "Cacophony didn't get you." Thunder shook his head. "We're a band. More than that, we're friends. Your problems are my problems, and we need to figure out what we're going to do about them." "Oh, Thunder," Wing said with a smile, "that's... probably the sappiest bucking thing I've ever heard you say." Thunder snorted. "I think Ponyville's a bad influence on me." "Alright, you sound like you've got something in mind," Power said. "Yeah, and you're not going to like it." Thunder said. "We need to get you guys some help." "No," Bass snapped. "I said it to Power in the hospital, and I'm saying it to you now. I'm not some bucking nutjob, and I don't need a shrink." "Bass, cool it," Wing said. More calmly, she turned to Thunder. "So you're saying we should see, what, a therapist? A psychiatrist?" Thunder took a deep breath and let it out. Getting angry wouldn't help, or so he told himself. "Berry was telling me that there's a place in Canterlot. The princesses set it up for Cacophony's victims. Apparently a lot of ponies were pretty messed up after it took them." "You think it'll help?" Wing asked. "I gotta say, I wouldn't mind getting rid of these nightmares." "You're going along with this?" Power said. "Well, I'm not having any nightmares." "No," Thunder retorted, "just panic attacks almost every day." "See," Bass shot at his brother, "you were all for it when it was just me. Not the same when it's somepony telling you that you're bucked in the head, is it?" "Look—" Thunder slammed a hoof down on the table, leaving a nick in the wood— "the next round of the Battle is a month from now. If we play like we did last night, we'll get laughed off the stage. That means we've got a month to get our shit together. If you've got a better idea, I'd love to hear it." Wing Beat looked around at her bandmates uncomfortably. "I think we should try it. What have we got to lose?" "You mean besides our reputations, our pride, our fans, and our friends?" Bass spat. "What would ponies think of us if they find out we're nuts?" "I'll go with you, Wing," Thunder said over his rant. Bass sputtered to a stop. "What did you say?" Wing asked hopefully. "I said I'd go with you," Thunder repeated uncomfortably. He scratched his mane nervously. "Y'know, moral support or whatever." "Yeah, or whatever," Wing Beat laughed. "Thank you, I really appreciate that." Power Chord looked from Thunder to Wing Beat. He evidently decided that he couldn't let Thunder show him up in front of his marefriend, because he abruptly declared, "I'll go, too." "You're kidding," Bass said. "Just a minute ago you were saying you didn't need to." "Maybe Thunder's right," Power answered. "Come on, the rest of us are all doing it. You should come too." "No. No way," Bass shook his head. "It doesn't mean you're weak, or crazy, or any of that shit," Thunder said, repeating something Berry had told him back in Ponyville. "If you get sick, you go see a doctor. It's the same thing." "Forget it," Bass growled back at him. "I'm not going. Drop it." Thunder gritted his teeth angrily. "Fine," he answered, "the rest of us will go, you stay here and rot." "Thunder!" Wing reprimanded him. "Bass," she said more calmly, "if the rest of us go check this place out, and it seems like it'll help, will you at least think about coming with us next time?" "You're going to sound like a naggy little filly if you say no," Power warned him. "Gee, thanks for the support, bro," Bass spat. "Fine, you guys check this place out, I'll think about it." "When are we going?" Power asked. Wing shrugged. "No time like the present, right? We've got nothing going for the next month." "Get some breakfast and head to Canterlot, then?" Power asked. Thunder nodded. "Thanks, guys." They left Bass to his grumbling.
