The Ward

Chapters

Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV

Chapter I

Everything ached. Muscles, sinew, joints, head, eyes and the odd feeling of even the bones calling out in distress. Everything burned as if the previous day he worked past his physical limit for hours on end. Inside his skull, every heart beat was a jackhammer, throbbing with pressure that felt best relieved by boring a hole into his head the size of a hoof to let the pain out. Every breath it self was pained drawing pins and needles as if a corset lined with broken glass had been laced tighter than intended causing each inhale and exhale to become short and shallow as to not cause greater pain. Everything felt as if he had swam in razorblades and then was crushed with tons of iron.

The entire harrowing fire of pain radiated from his entire body, he opened his eyes and it was quickly doubled as the harsh rays of the sun pierced like it had been focused by passing through a Fresnel lens pointed in the center of his brain. The world around him was unfocused, shapes and blurs of a room filtered though and his brain tried it's best to decode what the objects were. Most of the room was cast in shadow still, but for the most part was completely empty apart from the door where the offensive sun beat down on him.

Nothing made sense, there was only the pain. He bobbed his head from the floor with the intention to move it from the sunbeam to fall back into a painful sleep. Perhaps blackout was a better description, as when he moved his hooves to push up off the floor a lightning bolt of pain shot down his spine causing the stallion cry out in pain and cease any movement. For a few brief moments his vision collapsed into a tunnel of black, leaving only a tiny pinprick of light. Questions swirled around in his head, but the main one was that to answer why he felt like a train had run him over.

One good thing about the pain was that it attracted somepony else to his presence. Muffled voices and foggy hoof clops from outside the door wafted their way inside. There was no way to make out what they said, but the fact that the sounds were coming towards him was a comfort. A heavy steel door devoid of any lubrication screeched open and the sun intensified for only a second before it was obstructed by two other ponies who looked down upon him before stepping hoof inside. There were several moments of silence before the blurry figures even spoke.

"Oh my Celestia-" a female voice squeaked briefly before breaking into a silence. The figure then sank down on her haunches and cradled his head in her hooves. "Those... monsters!" The stallion on the floor could feel a sense of compassion in her voice, though he didn't know her.

"How bad is-" the other shadow asked while moving out of the sun's beam. The stallion moved aside and was able to see the extent of what happened. The stallion on the floor winched as the light his his eyes again and moved his head as far as it would allow to block the light without causing even more pain. "I have warned those... ruffians countless times that such violence should not be necessary. Such things are completely uncalled for in any manor."

The shadowy stallion's forehead became awash in a light and then the light encompassed the injured pony on the floor. Suddenly the occupant of the room breathed a sigh of relief as he floated in the weightless levitation of the unicorn, glad to have his body off the floor where gravity was digging in on his side. However the point of being rotated in the air to pass through the door caused a warm trickle to flow down the side of his head, making his stomach heave in sickness.

"Find out what ponies were on guard duty last night and discharge them immediately." the unicorn said to the mare in an authoritative tone.

"Right away." was the response followed by a flurry of hasty hooves down the hard floored hallway.

The world was still a mess beyond his eyes, making out only that he was being carried down a hallway. As he focused the walls and ceiling flexed in, causing his head to spin and bile to rise in the back of his throat. Several times during the trip the world went black, but he soon was back awake enough to see that he was still being carried.

The pony soon awoke again to the voice of the male stallion from his room, or at least the room he was in.

"Can you hear me?" he asked.

"Ye- yes." he answered amidst a painful breath of air as the stabbing pain caused him to stutter.

"You are in a medical bed now, safe. Do you understand?"

"Yes." another half squelched reply during a breath out.

"I'm going to lift you from the bed and perform a physical, do you know what that means?" before a reply could come, the unicorn cut him out. "It means that I am going to use my magic to inspect your body, feel you all over."

"It hurts all- all over."

"Please remain calm, this will take a few minutes." said the stallion.

The injured pony was lifted from the bed and the doctor slowly began to feel from hoof to the mane. As he focused on his chest and gently moved the ribs a small fraction of an inch, the patient moaned out in pain. Quickly he found that they were fractured on one side and one was broken outright, all located on the upper right quadrant of the torso. He mentally made a note and moved upwards. A strained muscle in his fore-hoof was found but nothing else until he reached the area around his head. It was obvious to the observer that there were several hoof shaped lacerations near the maxilla, frontal orbital bone and zygomatic arch. Luckily there were no fractures, just deep lacerations.

The doctor removed the jacket from the stallion and tossed it aside, to get a closer inspection of the dermis over the ribs. As the fur was carefully moved aside, bruising could be seen, hoof prints as well. Whatever happened last night, the stallion had been brutally stomped and kicked.

"What's your name? I haven't seen you in the infirmary yet."

"It's-" he paused. It was the first time he had to recall a memory, and there was no reason he couldn't remember, but everything was blank. Not just a name, but where he was, who he was and most importantly of all, how he got injured to this extent.

"I... can't remember. My name, or a-anything." he stuttered.

"You may have a concussion, but for the time being I need to apply some sutures to your head wounds and bind your chest. On a scale of one to ten, ten being unable to move from the pain, how much are you in?" the doctor began using a small flashlight and shone the light into each of the stallions eyes watching for a reaction, all while using his horn to summon up supplies from nearby drawers.

"Eight. E-every time I breathe in my chest feels like... it's being c-crushed. My head feels like it's going to tear itself ap-part." he stuttered every time the shallow breathes were needed to complete the sentences.

The doctor didn't reply, just simply nod and bring over more supplies from the cabinets.

"And I can't see... too well."

Another nod.

"I'm going to inject some morphine for the pain and give you a few pills as well that will dull the pain after the shot wears off. it's going to make you feel good, but please don't move."

The stallion felt the warm haze of magic on his throat, not a harsh squeeze but one that was searching gently. Once the artery was located he felt a slight pinch as the needle passed though his skin, the morphine was main-lined into his system and immediately there was no pain. He closed his eyes in a sigh of relief and took a deep breath, now free of the razor blade embedded corset.

"Thank you, much better."

"And two of these." the doctor floated a set of pills to the stallions lips. They immediately parted and he dropped them inside, and drew a glass of water to wash them down with. "Now open." he mocked the action he wanted by opening his own muzzle and it was mimicked. He peered inside and was satisfied that the pony had swallowed them.

The rest of the medical aid was applied with haste, but not without skill. It would seem that the doctor had treated injuries like this quite a lot. Once the job was done he went over to a filing cabinet and began to slowly hoof through the folders, prying each one open and taking momentary glances up at the stallion resting peacefully in the bed across the open bay.

Once the proper file was located he hefted the thick folder from the drawer and placed it on the desk. He never opened it, rather pulled a piece of paper from another drawer and began to fill a report out. Only once the report was finished did he open the thick folder and paused at the first page. Scanning the first few lines he stopped and an uneasy look passed over his face.

Slowly he sat back and with trembling hoof, closed the medical file. his professional demeanor faded as he gathered the folder into his hoof and slowly clopped over to the bedside.

"I- I have some matters to attend to... I will be back shortly." he blurted out. With that he bolted from the room.

This left the stallion alone to his thoughts, though they were cloudy in the haze of the opioid. Frantically he began to search his mind for answers to who he was. The deeper he delved the more the white fuzz pushed against him, keeping him out. The longer his thoughts dwelled on his life, his head pounded harder and harder forcing him to take deep breathes. But the harder he pushed into the haze, the more it struggled to keep him out.

Instead of bringing around more pain, he stopped and laid back down on the soft bed and let everything go. He was alive and that was the first step to getting answers.

Half an hour ticked away before the doctor returned, the nurse on his tail with two stocky ponies on either side of them dressed in white.

"I'm afraid I have to take you to see Dr. Fetlock right away."

"All-right." the stallion in the bed replied and slowly began to slide off the side of the bed. "Why hasn't my vision returned? Everything is still blurry." he asked, waving a hoof in front of his face as to make an example of his meaning.

"Nurse Lillian, the wheel chair please." the shape waved. The injured stallion noticed that the doctor was purposefully keeping his distance from the him.

The mare wheeled the chair over and helped the stallion sit comfortably in it. Only when he was seated did she walk around to his front and reach into her lab coat.

"I have your glasses, but you can't have them yet. Dr. Fetlock will have to give his OK first." Lillian said, looking directly at the seated stallion.

"I have glasses... right..." he chuckled lightly and let a large grin cross his muzzle. "What is wrong with the doctor, he seems to be staying away from me. As if he was afraid. Are you afraid?"

Nurse Lillian smiled, "I am not afraid of any pony." she answered. While the doctor maintained his distance, Lillian was more than comfortable getting close to any perceived danger. "I have seen a lot throughout my days here in the hospital and nothing can make me shake in my horse shoes."

The stallion grinned again. "Then let's go to Dr. Fet-hoof then."

"Let's go! Doctor, would you join us?" Lillian retreated to the rear of the wheel chair and started to push him towards the door.

The journey took the stallion passed many blurry shapes, more ponies. In the halls, open areas and what seemed like all over a building that spanned the entire length of Equestria. It was a lively hospital to say the least, wide tall windows that let in the entirety of the sun's glory. Though without his glasses, it was all fuzzy, leaving everything still somewhat of a mystery.

Time dragged on and the shapes lost their luster, as well as the morphine wearing thin, but the pills were enough to stave off the daggers of pain he felt earlier, though they were not as potent as the morphine, leaving a head throb pounding away and creating unease in his chest when he was breathing. This also returned him to a state of mind he was more in control of. Questions began to mix in his fuzzy mind.

They took a lift to bring the crew to the top floor of the hospital. From the exit it was just a short wheel to a black wood double door graced with bronze handles. On the other side there was a massive office with a single pain of glass overlooking what appeared to be buildings that made up the hospital. The same wood that made the doors was also a desk sitting a few strides from the window, with a massive towering high backed chair facing the window, the occupant unseen by those who had just entered.

A silent hoof waved from behind the chair and all but the stallion and Nurse Lillian left. She approached the desk and set the glasses down on them only then did she leave.

The room was silent for a few minutes, the stallion had no reason to speak up despite the few questions he had. The longer he stayed silent, the more it began to bother him. Thinking that it was a test he instead remained silent.

"Tell me-" the pony in the high-backed chair said, slowly turning around to face the other stallion in the room. "What is your name?"

The Doctor in the chair remained a blurry object, and the stallion strained to focus and make out distinguishing features, though this only served to increase the pain in his head vying to figure out what exactly the sapphire red pony looked like.

"I can't remember. I don't really remember anything. Could-" he paused a second. "Could I have my glasses, please?"

"Please?" the doctor snickered. "I did not think that you knew what that word meant." The tone of the room was quickly becoming tense, making the other occupant uneasy. "What happened last night? I can see by your face that you got your flank kicked, not surprising."

"Doctor, I said I don't remember. I just woke up and everything hurt. I'm sorry, I-I don't remember." he apologized, slinking back in the wheel chair as much as he could before his withdrawing knees started to press against his chest causing the cracked ribs to shoot more pain into his spine. The pain was only masking the dread he felt creeping in. Clearly he was a part of something that had been lost last night, and the belittling demeanor on which Dr. Fetlock was speaking to him sent a thought that he was involved, or perhaps to blame for the events. But it would seem that the doctor was holding back.

"Corona Plume! You do NOT expect me to believe anything of which you have just said. Anypony of your stature here should know full well that I am not one to be trifled with." Dr. Fetlock slammed a hoof on the desk several times during the anger infused tirade.

The fact that a doctor was yelling at him was enough to make anypony cringe, but with no prior knowledge of events that transpired was sending the stallion into a panic. He began to shake in the chair and a tear rolled down his cheek.

"Is t-that my name? Corona Plume?" he sniffled. This was just a moment in time he reminded himself, and soon after he was looked over, he would be discharged from the hospital. Soon he would be on his way home, after contacting somepony that knew where he lived. Now he had a name to work with.

Dr. Fetlock was more than agitated, seething anger was beginning to boil over. He moved from the chair to a position where he could whisper into the stallion's ear.

"If you are in any way playing your mind games with me..." he slowly whispered into his ear, as a mare would to her foal to prevent them from acting out in public, the low tone that implicated there would be trouble once they got back home. "Then I will bury you in the deepest darkest hole we have here. You will never again see the light of day. Do you understand, Corona Plume?"

"Y-yes, please..." the stallion was shaking, scared down to the deepest part of him. For a few minutes he was no longer feeling his ribs and head, but the venomous voice of the doctor. "What ever I did, I'm sorry. I don't know what it is, but I'm sorry! Please don't get rid of me! I heard the other Doctor say he was going to fire the other guards here. I'm sure by the start of my shift tonight, I'll have remembered everything. Please..." Tears began to stream down his cheeks and he sniffled. There wasn't much he knew, but if anything working at the hospital was something he didn't want to lose.

Doctor Fetlock changed his tone completely. He pulled back from the sobbing stallion and walked back to the chair behind his desk and opened the folder the other doctor had put there. A glow came from his forehead and began to write on a piece of paper near the back of the massive stack.

"You can have your glasses back." he said, without looking up from the paper he was absorbed in. "They are on the corner of my desk." he waved a hoof.

Corona collected himself, wiping the tears away and felt confidence returning that the issue from last night was resolved. Slowly he placed his hooves on the ground, testing their strength before putting his full weight on them. The ribs stung as he let gravity take hold and pull his midsection to the floor. He felt uneasy, but managed to slowly move to the corner where his glasses were.

It felt weird slipping them on, as if it were the first time he had done so. But they were his. As the lenses were seated the world became crystal clear, and the enormity of the room was revealed.

From wall to wall the space was filled with book shelves all packed to the point of overflowing with books. All medical books, as well as several bound volumes of magazine publications, spilling from their pages were white pieces of parchment that did not belong as part of the normal pages, notes of some kind.

As he passed over the rows of books, glancing at the titles he moved over to the window to have a look out. From the high vantage point he was able to see two buildings branching out in a ninety degree V-like fashion from the central tower. Each wing was made of a white stone that seemed to leap upward four stories and was sheltered from the storms by a grey colored roof of slate. Between the two buildings was a well kept lawn with stone paths from doorway to doorway and to a central veranda made of a pale wood. Ponies of all types were amongst the lawn, some in wheel chairs, some on their own and some being escorted by the white uniformed ponies that took him up here. Everything looked amazing.

"What are you doing?" Dr. Fetlock asked turning around to watch the stallion. "It's a long way to the ground from here." he said.

"Oh yes, I know." Corona responded, his eyes locked on the sprawling grounds below. As far as the eye could see there was well groomed lawns, patches of flowers and shade from trees should one decide to take a break from the sun.

"I don't think you are in any condition to fly." remarked the doctor.

"That would be wonderful if I could. It's such a nice day outside." Corona remarked.

"Maybe someday that can happen." the doctor said, leaving a trail of hope in his voice but with a tone of skepticism underlying it.

"I don't think that is possible."

"Oh, why not? Your wings were not injured last night. It's completely possible." the doctor voiced, waving a hoof at the spread appendages.

"I... wait, what?" immediately he turned his head, and a warm smile spread across his muzzle. It was like Hearth's Warming eve, and he found that he had the biggest present under the tree. His brilliant sunburst colored coat continued on into the same colored wings, but tipped with a vibrant orange wash. He began to flap his wings joyously in the air and regretted it. The muscles that controlled them pulled on his ribs and it sent the low hover he had achieved crashing to the ground. He curled up on the floor and began to breathe in gasps.

"Nurse Lillian..." Dr. Fetlock pressed a button on the intercom built into his desk. "Please bring up some more painkillers for Corona, along with the regulars."

Wincing in pain, the stallion stood up and slowly trotted back to the wheel chair and took a seat.

"How long before I am healed up enough to fly again?" the question was a mix of eager and pain.

"At least a few weeks, enough for your cracked ribs heal." he answered, and continued to write in the folder, infact he had never stopped writing from the first time he picked up the pen.

"Would I still be able to do my job, without being able to fly?"

The pen scratching on the parchment stopped, and the red pony looked up from the desk and strait at him.

"I don't see why not."

With that said he returned to writing again in the folder.

Nurse Lillian entered the room, levitating a tray in front of her. There was a single white paper cup and a glass of water on it.

"Here is what you asked for." she laid the tray down on the desk. She picked up the small paper cup and the glass and turned to Corona.

"You got your glasses back!" she chirped.

"Yes I did, and everything is so much better. And I am a pegasus!" he grinned, slowly flaring his wings out to their full extent. There was something about the unicorn that caused his heart to lift, as if she were a familiar face that bore a friendship the two shared. Perhaps it was just the the fact that she was the first pony that wasn't treating him like a piece of merchandise.

"Yes, I can see that." She returned his friendly smile with one of her own. "But I brought some pills for your pain."

"Thanks." Corona reached out for the cup and tossed the pills into his mouth. It was alot more than the two from before, as he felt at least five resting on his tongue. He then washed them down with the water and returned the cup to Lillian.

"Open up." she asked. Without a second thought he did, and she peered inside his muzzle, then lightly patted his nose. "Ok, back to work." The white mare with a short two tone mane and tail of a cream color tipped with a dark brown pocketed the glass and levitated the tray to her side and left the room.

With the doctor still writing, Corona turned to face him.

"So when do you think that I will be able to return to my regular work?" he asked innocently.

"Mr. Plume." Dr. Fetlock put the pen down from the cloud of magic linked to his horn. "This is going to be hard for you to understand, but please listen. You have made a breakthrough today, whether on your own volition or through the injuries you received, you have had a dramatic change. It is one that I believe to be genuine."

Corona paused, his mind working as to what this was building up to be. Deep down inside there was a lingering bit of fear, that he was going to be fired from the hospital and have to pick up his life, if he could remember any bits and pieces of it.

"Do you know where you are?" The inquisitive line had no malice as those of before, but rather it was sedate.

"A hospital of sorts. I figured that out." he shrugged, as if the answer was obvious.

Dr. Fetlock sighed, realizing now the extent of retrograde memory loss.

"This is Briar Hoof Psychiatric Hospital. And you are not a guard."

Not anymore, this was it. Whatever happened last night, whatever he did, he was getting fired. Butterflies flew around in his stomach causing his heart rate to ascend, the pounding in his head increasing. Now he was going to get kicked out of his house. He'd have to live on the streets and beg for bits just to buy the day's food.

"No, please don't fire me! I'll be a janitor, clean out the toilets, anything!" he begged.

"Please stop and listen to me." the doctor moved his hoof forward in a gesture one would use to break bad news. "This is going to be hard to hear, and will be very confusing, especially in your current state."

Corona's breathing picked up, despite the stabbing pain in his chest. The news that he was not wanting to hear was coming. The butterflied turned into a marching army, and he began to unwillingly shake.

"You were admitted here several days ago. Do you understand?"

The way Dr. Fetlock was talking in a slow manner made Corona's adrenaline pound. He heard the words that were spoken, but they didn't make sense. This confusion was compounded by his memory loss, everything was making less sense.

"You are not a guard. You do not work for the hospital. You are a patient here."

"That's not right. I can't be..."

His mind stopped working correctly and shut out what he was being told. It was not true, how could he be any danger to anypony? It was all lies, all made up. Terror gripped his chest, and squeezed in like a vice. Cold shot down his spine and outward into his body, hooves and muzzle began to feel numb as if hit with a billion frozen pins. He just kept blinking, hoping that a small piece of memory would return to help him combat this confusing mess.

"What... No! It's not..."

"Mr. Plume, please don't try to think about any of this right now. I would really hate if you regressed back."

"Issen... I'ven. Eigh?" he burbled out. He wasn't sure about what he meant to say, it got lost in the black grip of fear wrought upon him. His heart was beating out of his chest, and forcing him to drawn in extremely fast gasps of breath. His hooves felt like they were no longer attached to his body, as if they had floated up out of the room. In the back of his skull he heard a train speeding towards him, a hurricane that got louder.

He stared at Dr. Fetlock, and though his lips were moving, he didn't hear anything, just the rush of wind. Corona felt displaced, his body had already stopped responding, and slowly his eyesight was beginning to blur white around the peripherals of his vision.

The hurricane in his ears kept whipping at his mind. Somewhere in the confusion he started saying a word over and over again.

"No... no... no... no"

He never remembered starting to form the word, it just spilled out over and over again. The white had nearly engulfed his entire vision, the hurricane in his ears was whirring in a deafening haze.

"No... no... no..." he continued.

No cohesive thoughts formed, no part of his body responded. Everything became a blur of white with a wind storm whipping in his ears. Then it stopped. Suddenly he felt withdrawn, as if watching his body from a place high in the office. He was shaking and sputtering what should have been words, but only were received as broken half syllables. In the abstract vision he was experiencing he noticed that his body was a mess. The sunburst fur swept manically in all directions, his golden orange mane that was usually swept back into the wind was stained a rust red from blood and matted against the side of his head desperately crying out for a wash and a comb. If there was anything to be admitted, he did look the part of a patient.

The torrential gust that seemed to be blowing in his ears stopped and turned into a low buzzing tone. Vision had turned all white and he lurched forward from the chair to the floor.

Chapter II

Chapter 2

For the second time that morning, the stallion once again found himself swimming in a sea of black, struggling to pull his mind from the thick fog dragging him down. When he opened his eyes, the same fuzzy vision as before made him question once again where he was. Things filtered back in, injury, doctors and pegasus came to mind, but little else. Though he strove to know, there was a wall there, a white blank wall with nothing on it.

What should have been on the wall of memory were things of his foal-hood, the memories of running through the field, soaring from cloud to cloud when he had first learned to fly, what his mother had made him for dinner after a day of buzzing low over the grass and dodging the obstacles in his way at high speed.

Memories of when he was a colt, done with primary school and had moved on in the world. When he took his first job, that was probably fuddling with the weather as he was a pegasus. The hormones raging as he returned late at night, much to his parent's disappointment, glaring at him when he tried silently to fly through his open bedroom window.

Memories of getting his cutie-mark, starting a career, finding that special somepony and raising foals of his own with her. So much of this wall was empty.

Instead all he had was the memories of the last few hours. Broken ribs and a shattered mind were all that was left of him. Hallways of light blue and the clamoring of ponies whose minds had gone sideways, or never fully formed. It had to be said, that with his current state, a Psychiatric Hospital was the the best place for him. However he landed here, however long he had to stay, this was where he was now.

With such memories locked away, or completely forgotten, he would be unable to function in the real world. If he was guided back to his home and whatever lay inside, it would have been an overwhelming experience. If there was something there that he couldn't understand, there was a distinct possibility that there was no pony that would be able to walk him through his life.

"Corona?"

He heard a voice call out. It was the same as before, Lillian the nurse. All he could manage in return was a slight groan, as his brain had still been putting the pieces of what he did remember back together and then bring him back to the world of the conscious.

"Lay still, you fainted." her soft voice continued. Once again she had sat down beside him and cradled his head in her hooves. As much as he could figure she was not afraid of him. Or what he was before, and that drove him to wonder about the chain of events that brought him here.

After laying still for a few minutes the answer to the question of his vision flooded back into his head.

"Where are my glasses?" Corona asked, feeling about his muzzle where they had been sitting just a few minutes ago.

"Right here." she answered, and plucked them from the floor. "The frame is a little bent though."

The stallion placed them on his head then took them off to re-bend the frame back to a comfortable position. He looked up to see the mare's face, her warm expression caused him to smile. From the corner of his eye he saw Dr. Fetlock standing near the corner of his desk and taking care not to come closer than need be.

"Nurse, would you please help Mr. Plume to the chair and escort him back down to the main floor." Dr. Fetlock commanded, as if his continued presence annoyed him. "I have several other patients to check on, with therapy session to conduct as well."

"Wait!" Corona shouted from the floor, flipping himself forward to get to his hooves but stopped as he was met with a sharp stabbing in his chest. This caused him to slowly stand up, gritting his teeth at the pain. "I -I want to know why I'm here."

"Mr. Plume, I called you up here today to verify a change in behavior. And I have. As of right now I am running late and I cannot be stalled any longer. I have an opening in my schedule tomorrow after tea and we can speak on the matter, if I see fit, at that time. Nurse Lillian, I would ask that you stay with Mr. Plume for today's duration and monitor his health. Dr. Stitch mentioned that he believes that he may have sustained a concussion. Report any changes to him." Dr. Fetlock spoke, gathering up his coat and several files and headed towards the doors. "You can let yourself out." With that, he was gone.

Corona was most confused. The doctor seemed at first that he was baiting him, trying to get the stallion all riled up, watching the response to his aggressive behavior. Whatever he was expecting to happen didn't. After having gleamed all relevant interest, he was to be swept aside until it was convenient for him to once again engage.

Once again he looked out the window and involuntarily his wings spread open. It would be nothing to buck a chair through the large panes and fly to freedom, to at least get away from this place. Everything in his mind was urging him to do so, but his body had been crippled so that it was impossible. For the moment.

His thoughts were side tracked as a massive roar ripped through the room, echoing off the walls loud enough so that Lillian could hear it. He folded his wings, heeding the warning of his ribs. At any rate, he was not getting far on an empty stomach.

"It's almost lunch time. With the busy day you have had, it's amazing that you hadn't collapsed sooner." Lillian chimed in and grabbed the wheelchair, moving it slowly to the side of the pegasus. "We are serving asparagus with jalapeno` boiled potatoes today."

"All right." Corona nodded slightly. "I am beyond peckish."

Lillian held the chair steady as the stallion climbed into the seat, and whirled him around to the doors and from there to the lift.

"Did you hear Dr. Fetlock? I'm going to get to stay with you all day."

The way she said this told Corona that the mare was holding back from bouncing in the lift with happiness. It was odd, Lillian and Dr. Stitch, presumably the doctor who had taken care of his wounds, spoke as if they were talking to a foal. There was a pace in their voices that seemed slower, so that he would understand them, as if there was something wrong with him. He brushed the question away, as there were more important ones that needed to be clarified first.

"Nurse Lillian, is it?" turning his head back over his shoulder he asked.

"Yes it is! But you can just call me Lillian."

"Ah, ok. I have a question. Why am I here? What did I do?"

"Oh, darling. That is not something I can tell you. I know why, but it is something that you will have to converse with Dr. Fetlock about, as he is your Doctor." she gave him a pat on the head.

He didn't want to argue, just play along to get along and see about getting out of the Hospital as fast as possible.

"Why are you treating me like a foal? I can understand you quite well. I don't need to be treated as if I were daft. I am quite old enough to see to myself." Corona voiced roughly.

"Mr. Plume-"

"Corona, please."

"Corona. This whole ordeal would seem as if it were a nightmare. But it is very real. I don't say this to many patients, but if you want me to frank, then I will be blatant."

Her abrupt change of tone was most alarming. The bubbly and cheerful Lillian turned tail and became as stark as day.

"Once you have a chat with Dr. Fetlock, you will know what I am talking about. But you have your head screwed on strait, more so than anypony as a patient. Things seem right now as if they don't make sense and that you should not be here. Right now this is the only place you should be." She moved around in front of the stallion and grabbed a hoof laying in his lap and looked into his eyes.

"You are sick, genuinely. I can't say how at this moment, but believe me you are. You are here to get better, and if you want to, it will happen."

"I d-don't feel sick." he stammered.

"Yesterday you were kicking and screaming, as every day before since you were brought in here. No pony could get close to you, let alone any of the doctors or orderlies. There was no way we could give you anything to calm you down aside from sedatives. You spent most of your time alone, strapped in a straitjacket. It made you a bit more manageable, but was not practical."

Corona sat quietly in a disturbed manor, not quite believing what he was hearing, but it was the first bit of anything he had heard that shed light onto why he was here.

"Every day you were here was a struggle, and everypony wanted nothing to do with you. Last night there was the usual kicking and screaming. The two orderlies who were sent to put you to bed were not aware of the handling procedures, and once you began to bite and kick, the responded with force and injured you. They beat you unconscious and left you in an isolation cell."

The explanation was valid, as far as the injuries went. But he wasn't a violent pony, was he? With a blank memory there was no way to actually recall what happened. He was at the mercy of whoever put him here, and now at the mercy of those around him. And those around him thought he was insane and dangerous.

"It was wrong for them to do so. I just hope that whatever pony you were before last night, whatever pain you were carrying is gone. And if you should feel that monster start to crawl in the back of your mind again, that you let me know. No matter what any pony does, they should never become the horror that you were."

He couldn't wrap his mind around it. The idea that he was crazed beyond words, lashing mindlessly out at anypony seemed alien, he was calm now and hadn't done a thing. Something had caused him to do it, some great pain that had shattered him, shattered his mind. And it was still creeping around in his brain somewhere.

"But now you have full control of your body again, hopefully whatever cause the fits of black anger have been knocked out of your head. When you meet with Dr. Fetlock tomorrow he may be able to tell you something that can jog a memory. Get you back on the right track."

The idea of being a storm of flailing hooves and screams was appalling to Corona. In his current condition such a thing would be unwise, his body needed quite time to heal and get well again. Now stuck in the hospital where he would have to gamble waiting out for the doctor to allow him to leave or resting up until the pain was bearable enough to fly out of here.

The lift reached the bottom of the shaft and he was wheeled out into the main hall. With glasses it was easier to see everypony and the features that were blurred.

The hospital was made from white marble, veined in light blue. Following this theme, the walls were painted the same hue of light blue at chest height. Everything was clean and new, at the very least well taken care of. The pipes and other ugly utilities had been buried under the light grey slate floors long before the hospital was finished. Massive single pained windows, raised out of the reach of anypony so that they could not be broken lined the arching stone at the walls.

Two blue uniformed security guards sat near the front door, watching for any escape attempts. Though most of the patients hadn't the mental capacity to realize where they were, much less that it was the exit. But there were the few that still tried.

Behind a large semi-circle wooden desk was a well groomed mare dressed to the nines. She was there to direct family and friends for the patients in addition to answering the telephone and processing papers for deliveries and intake of patients.

"If you get lost, Miss Ingvarr at the desk can help you. But for today I'm going to be your shadow." Lillian explained.

Corona mumbled a low 'Hmm.' as they passed. The mare behind the desk gave a hearty smile and waved her hoof as they passed. But to anypony watching, they could see a bit of trepidation behind her eyes, slowly watching them pass and breathed a small amount of air in relief when the two entered a hallway.

It was the same hallway where he had been taken to the infirmary get patched up, the two once again returned there.

"You need to wash your mane. Trotting around with blood plastered to the side of your head is not a good thing." Lillian said, backing the chair where Corona sat, into a open necked sink. Corona didn't say a thing, merely nodded and let Lillian lower his head into the bowl.

The mare used her magic to grab the small headed sprayer and carefully began to wet his orange mane, taking care to avoid the sutures. Soon the water began to ran clear as the crusted blood. Instead of using a stream of water to clean the wound, she grabbed a small towel, wetted it and began to slowly mop away the rust stains from the yellow fur.

"You are all clean!" she smiled. "How do you want your mane styled, how do you like it?"

That was a question, before it was merely an unkempt mess. First thing that came to mind was speed, as a pegasus, it would make sense to have a short cut to maintain a style, as most longer manes tended to sit swept backwards by the whipping wind as they flew.

"How about up, and swept back?" he shrugged, it was possibly the first and last choice he was going to get to make independent of a medical professional's opinion.

"All right!" Lillian grinned cheerfully, and grabbed up a hair dryer and comb.

This whole hospital wasn't such a bad place, at least there was one pony that was being kind to him. Corona enjoyed the mane washing and if such things were a sign of his stay here, he did not want to jeopardize potential future benefits.

Lillian finished and brought a mirror from a nearby drawer, letting Corona see her work, but not handing the mirror to him.

"That looks rather good." he smiled, beginning to feel more like a pony than a wretched mess.

"Good, now let's go get something to eat." the mare said, tiding up the sink area before pushing the stallion towards their destination.

From the infirmary he was wheeled down a long hallway lined with doors at regular intervals, mostly the lower offices and supply closets, all locked, he was sure. At the very end of the hall was the cafeteria, instead of entering they stopped a room labeled 'Auxiliary Wardrobe', right before the entrance.

"Alot of the patients can get messy in the cafeteria, so we keep a decent supply of clean clothes nearby so they can be changed as needed." Lillian remarked while rummaging through the drawers of clothes, looking for something that was not the readily available vests that were folded neatly inside. "Ah, found it."

She produced a black vest from the bottom of the drawer. It didn't look thin like the other vests, but rather had some heft to it.

"You are going to have to wear this from now on. It will be removed once a day, generally when it's bed time, but put back on in the morning."

"What is it?" he asked, curious as to why it looked menacing. Thick rolled edges where the front hooves went though for the comfort of the wearer. The neck was wide, but not enough to slip past the chest, just enough to avoid any constriction of the neck in any position a pony would be in. A gleaming metal zipper with a wide loop of thick leather instead of a small pull made the garment look more secure, the belt that wrapped around near the waist made the entire thing look more like a bondage implement than something to wear.

"It's a grounding jacket. As a pegasus it is one of only two options you have." she explained.

"What is the other?"

"You will have to go to the medical bay and have your wings clipped." she said bluntly, holding out the jacket to him.

He recoiled at the thought. Pegasus getting their wings clipped was like a unicorn getting studded, a negating 'cone' physically and magically locked around their horn. Either option was undignified, but the first left him more or less intact, but fettered.

Corona fed his front hooves through the holes of the jacket and stepped out of the wheelchair. With great care, Lillian opened the vest flaps up and separated the velcro pockets and moved the flaps under his wings and re-secured them to the inner wall of the jacket. These pockets were there to keep the pegasus' wings doubly secure in their own area. Unbeknownst to him, the zipper wasn't designed to close the garment all the way itself. After the teeth there were a great deal of tiny eyelets, their purpose was revealed when a long string levitated by Lillian was swiftly threaded through them.

"You have to tell me when this gets uncomfortable." she said, then began to draw the jacket tight around his chest. "Take a deep breath in and hold it."

The stallions chest slowly inflated, faltering a bit when he was bit by the daggers in his ribs. But the option of clipping made him press on though the pain.

The fetter was tightened to his skin, compressing any fur that got in the way. With the draw string tied in a bow, it was laid on top of his back and the zippered flap closed. The leather strap was passed through the belt and the belt folded over. Instead of a buckle, there was a steel pin that ran through the thick canvas, the belt and was lined up with the corresponding hole on the outer belt. There was no need for a lock, as a unicorn was always nearby, so Lillian focused on the end of the pin and with a bit of force managed to splay the metal shaft into a mushroom head, 'locking' the jacket on him. All a unicorn needed to do was concentrate on the shaft and split it to free the belt.

The jacket added a bit of bulk to his torso, but nothing as much as a winter coat.

"There." Lillian said, musing at her work. It was always much easier when the patient was compliant. She folded up the wheel chair and rolled it to a corner where it was out of the way.

"It feels weird." Corona scrunched up his muzzle and shook his chest as the jacket felt alien. Pegasus usually never wore anything over their wings, as the only thing that felt natural was air passing over them.

"I can always put in a request to get your wings clipped, if you don't like it." the mare shrugged.

"NO! No. Please no." the stallion whimpered and slowly began to lower his flank and creep away from her. "I-I'll just have to get used to it."

"Very good. Now let's go get some lunch before your stomach begins to eat your ribs. Besides, the medicine you took earlier can't be sitting well."

"No, they aren't." Corona grumbled. "What were they anyway?"

"For the time being, they were mostly vitamins and the pain killers. Some of problems in a pony can be solved by returning the natural balance of the normal elements inside them. For the time being Dr. Fetlock has though it unnecessary for any mood stabilizers or sedatives unless your behavior changes, but after tomorrow he may recommend a beginning course for your treatment." Lillian explained.

Corona had been following her without paying attention to where he was, and as she stopped he realized they were now in between several other ponies waiting in line for lunch. He looked left and right, watching the ponies. Some seemed fine, merely waiting to fill their stomachs with food. Others fidgeted in place, unable to stand still.

The cafeteria was full of noise, the blur of many voices murmuring to themselves and other ponies, metallic clank of trays as they met the table or the floor with the occasional loud voice shouting obscenities or delight. Spoons clanked against teeth and hisses of steam from the sinks in the kitchen, cleaning the platters. All this noise washed over him and he started to breathe irregularly.

It was a wrought iron grip that seized his chest, not pain but the feeling that he was misplaced. He began to look all about the room, for somewhere that looked quiet. There was no silence to be sought here, just crooked smiles and the half closed eyes of those on heavy medications. There was something wrong with everypony in the room and collectively together he felt all of it pressing in on him.

Corona could 'feel' the sickness in the air, a black stench that had no smell, but traveled thickly down his throat. He didn't belong here, he was stuck and the longer time he spent in this place he was sure that in time he would become a shell, stuck in a wheelchair and looking blankly through glassy eyes on into infinity and shovel fed what every anypony stuck in his muzzle. Visions of this passed through his mind, a drooling pegasus devoid of any energy. He did not want to end up like that, and as much as he tried to shake the picture from his mind, it returned.

Lillian looked over to him, seeing his chest rise and fall rapidly and his eyes scanning the room, never staying on a single point. She moved in front of his vision and gently placed her hooves on the side of his head, forcing his gaze into her eyes.

"Corona. Hey!" she whispered. "What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong."

"I-I'm trapped." he gasped, eyes wide in panic and breathe coming in short gasps.

"Try to breathe slowly. In-" she took a long deep breathe in, "- and then out. In.. Then out."

"Ok, ok, ok, ok." Corona closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then slowly released it. He followed this fashion until he noticed that Lillian had a hoof on his cheek, the other down near his neck to feel his heartbeat through the artery.

"Feeling better?" she asked.

"Y-yes. I just felt... trapped for a minute. The walls closing in."

"We can go outside after lunch and get some fresh air." the mare grinned and patted him on the shoulder.

Corona nodded. As Lillian backed away and retrieved two trays for them from the beginning of the line of serving trays he noticed something odd. When she was in front of his face, the two were eye to eye. She was roughly the same size as any mare within eye-shot to compare to, and came to a revelation. He was a rather small stallion. Either he had a small frame or he was...

"How old am I?" he blurted out in what would seem like a confused general question to everypony in the room.

"If I recall correctly, you are in your late twenties." Lillian answered, turning around with two trays, each carrying a large bowl and a small plate in her levitating haze. "Why?"

"Because I am just about as tall as you are, and other stallions in the room are a full head or more taller than me."

"Ponies come in all shapes and sizes, here take your tray." she moved the food laden plastic rectangle in his direction.

Corona took the tray into his muzzle and followed the nurse to an empty table in the corner of the cafeteria. He sat down and looked at what was for lunch. Inside the large bowl were the large chunks of diced potatoes poking out of a light colored thick cream, dark green diced jalapeno`s dotting it's surface. The plate contained five spears of rich green asparagus, steamed to perfection.

"This looks good. Not what I was expecting."

"There is alot more to a ponies health than medicine and doctors. Proper foods and vitamins can go a long way to solving the smaller issues. Good food is also important to one's physical well being." Lillian explained taking in a spoonful of the potato 'soup'.

Corona didn't waste time in picking up his own spoon and began to shovel the warm potatoes into his muzzle. The chunks were a bit starchy, but the sauce and jalapeno`s evened it out, having a salty hot taste that tingled the inside of his mouth and even his nostrils when he breathed out through them.

He wished he could remember the past meals he had, as he sat back it would occupy his mind to compare all of them to what he had just eaten and would come to the determination that they were no match to the fleshy green asparagus and tingling potato soup.

"That was good, what's for dinner?" he let out a small burp.

Lillian giggled a bit, "Still hungry huh? Well tonight is sweet hay and fresh strawberries."

"Sounds like that will be amazing as well. Where does all this food come from?"

"Aside from the exotic foods, it is all grown on the hospital grounds. We grow berries of all types, carrots, potatoes, peas, beets, turnips, mostly earthen crops. Apples, limes, sugar cane and corn come from local farms not too far from here. This helps the hospital budget, as the food we need is all grown and self sustaining." Lillian said pridefully.

Corona nodded, he was half expecting something horrible, an amalgamation of whatever was laying around in a tarnished pot, the gruel having long ago eaten away at the polished finish. It's acid touch filling, but eroding the stomach lining over time with it's horrid concrete like texture.

"This seems like a nice place." he mentioned while looking at the floors, walls and ceiling, showing it's age from wear, but pristinely clean and extremely well kept otherwise. The wooden borders of crown molding and baseboard kept polished and properly adhered to the walls, the drop ceiling had spotted tiles of newer pieces and older ones. Recessed lighting had all the lamps behind the frosted glass glowing brightly, not that they were needed, the spotless windows were letting in the mid-day sun.

"It has the best record in all of Equestria. Never had a valid problem since we opened nearly thirty years ago." Lillian boasted, puffing her chest out with pride. "Let's head outside and I can tell you all about the hospital." she motioned towards the exit of the cafeteria.

It wasn't what Corona wanted to hear, but information was information. Considering that he knew nothing about his life, the history lesson may jog a memory.

Lillian collected her tray and Corona his, after depositing them on a counter where a kitchen attendant could collect them, he followed the mare. Lillian began talking on the way.

"Briar Hoof came about when the proprietor, Briar Thistle had a son. After a few years of growth, he noticed something odd about his young foal. Doctor after doctor examined the young foal and was unable to find a physical reason for his behavior. Medicine of the brain was in it's infancy, and not much was known about the afflictions that can arise in a pony."

"For months he searched for somepony who was willing to have a look at him. He then ran across a young doctor, Dr. Fetlock, who was beginning to break into the field of mental health. After speaking with the young foal, and numerous days of observation, he diagnosed the foal as being bipolar. As he could not care for the young one, Dr. Fetlock recommended some medicines, but urged that he be placed in a psych ward."

"Briar Thistle began looking for a safe place where his son could get the care he deserved, and came up short. Alot of the earliest mental hospitals were merely places where the sick of society were left. Being understaffed, the patients were most often medicated and restrained. Food was scarce and malnutrition ran rampant, alot of patients died from abuse and beatings. It was a sad time in the timeline of mental health history."

"Appalled at the living conditions, Briar began to seek out the possibility of creating a different kind of hospital. By all means he was wealthy, but as the costs of building a place where sick ponies could be properly cared for mounted, he had only one option. He sold everything he had, businesses, land holdings, most of his possessions and anything of value. He lived in a rough wooden shack near to where the entrance of the hospital is now, construction began."

"A year later, Briar Cliff was finished. Dr. Fetlock came to visit and saw the sacrifice Briar had made for his son. With the walls needing doctors and all the support it could get to create somewhere that was fit for his son, Briar spent months traveling to Canterlot, Manehattan, Detrot and even Las Pegasus seeking out financial support and those of the proper skill to fill his dream. I have even heard that he had an audience with Princess Celestia and Princess Luna to explain his vision. Although they were both unable to get proper funds from the treasury, they gave him gifts. Princess Celestia gave him a fiery yellow gem that gleamed like the sun. Princess Luna gave him a pendant with a pure gold chain and a stone set in silver, the purest Lapis Lazuli Equestria had even seen."

"Gifts from the Princesses would have been able to pay for decades of supplies and doctors, but it was not the gifts that drew those to the hospital, but the symbolism that they represented. Equestrian mental health was a touchy political issue, and advisers for the princesses thought it best for them to stay away from the issue. With a blessing from the thrones, the lonely building far from any major city became a hub. Word spread that a proper mental care facility that was built for the owner's son, so that he would have the care he needed, to be treated as a proper pony, not just bits in the bank."

"In just a year the barren walls were humming with activity and a new breed of medicine and doctor was born. To have worked in Briar Hoof is a badge of honor, a doctor that used a light touch and realized that just like a cold, or headache, mental issues were something to be nurtured through with the best care. And off kilter or not, the patients are still ponies who deserve the best they can get."

"Briar Hoof is far from a scary place. All of the medical staff is here to help to the best of their abilities to help anypony get better, or at least be taken care of should their affliction be crippling enough for them to be a permanent resident. You are in good... no, the best hooves here. We can give all the best care and attention in the world, but ultimately it is the patient's choice to get better. "

"So Corona, whatever you may be thinking about the hospital, just know that we are all here for you, when you decide to be there for yourself. You can get better and go back to a normal life. But you have to decide for yourself that it is what you want."

They were outside now, the two sitting under a tree not far from the door. Corona had completely forgotten for a moment where he was, completely engulfed in the story being told. It was at the very least inspiring, that a father would give up everything for his son. He couldn't help but feel moved, and a tear trickled down the side of his face.

"What happened to Briar's son?" he asked, not to continue the story but because he was honestly interested.

"Well, after five years he was declared fit enough to be released. He does drop by weekly, a condition of his release, to talk with Dr. Fetlock and to refill his medications. But he felt that his father had given up too much for him, and the years of watching his son try to get better had taken a toll on his father's health, Amethyst Thistle worked hard so that he could buy back what his father had sold, House, businesses and land. He brought his father to the house where they grew up, the one that was sold and brought him inside. Briar was confused when this happened, but became overjoyed when he was told the events that brought him and Amethyst here. His health returned, though not fully, when he saw that his son was able to do everything he had, after his rocky past. The two still live there today, and Amethyst is now taking care of his father."

The stallion was floored. Such a story was one for an epic tome, something to be shared as a beacon of light that no matter what anypony is facing, it can be overcome.

"That is an amazing story. I hope that someday I can go back to my regular life, if I can remember it." his heartfelt grin changed to more of a slack lipped smile, as his life was tattered alot more than a sick foal with somepony who wanted the world for him. "I just wish I could remember..." he trailed off, rubbing a hoof in the thick grass.

Lillian had taken a posture right next to him, their two sides almost touching as they laid in the shade of the tree.

"Have you thought that it may be better that you don't?" she asked.

"Why would that be good? I have no memory, no smiling good times to help me through this place. I'm a lost, confused and sick mess." he voiced, as if she dare think that it was better this way.

"I am just saying that there may be a reason why your mind has blocked out your memories. That there is something so painful that your brain is protecting you from. If you were to remember, it may break you completely." Lillian was no longer speaking to him in a pointed way, but rather speaking at him as more of a warning. She knew why he was here, who he was, knew what he did and it burned in her mind that a confused stallion was being kept from the truth. At least until tomorrow.

"Do you want to stay outside a little bit longer? There are only a few hours left before bed."

"Yes, I think that I need all the space I can get." he sighed, knowing that he was going to be enclosed in a few hours until who knows when.

"Ok. Anything else you want to talk about?"

"Yes, but you already said you can't answer the one thing I want to know." he muttered, watching her face twist in pain as his fire to know burned, and she knew that it was burning. "I just want to watch the sky for a little bit longer." As Corona mentioned 'sky' the canvas jacket around his torso bulged as his wings pressed outward on the fetter. A pegasus was more at home in the air.

"Very well." Lillian nodded.

The two remained silent in the yard for a while, paying no heed to the other ponies laughing and thundering about on the lawn, as if they were the only two ponies that existed. Corona watched the sky with hungry eyes, wanting to see the world from several hundred feet above the ground, to take a nap in the clouds as the looked invitingly soft. Inspiration struck him.

"Can you bring a cloud down? Not a huge cloud, just a small one.?" he asked, seeing that she was a unicorn and could manipulate them with magic, just not physically.

"I can try." Lillian stood up and moved out from under the tree. She selected a small cloud and reached out with her mind. Unicorn magic was almost a sixth sense, allowing them to feel and move objects without touching, as well as being attuned with enchanted objects and the air itself, feeling out both good and bad. The small cloud became alight in a golden yellow hue and began to descend to the ground. Such a small cloud wouldn't upset the weather.

Corona couldn't wait, as soon as the puffy white object was within range, he leapt onto it's surface. There was no feeling in all of Equestria to compare to the surface of a cloud. The ground was hard and unforgiving, clouds on the other hoof were soft, the bottoms of his hooves sinking into it's surface an inch.

Pegasus had been masters of the weather and were relied upon all over Equestria to keep things in balance, giving the proper areas rain as needed, and avoiding catastrophic weather events that if left to themselves would destroy entire towns. It was a unique form of magic they possessed that allowed them to handle the weather, not one that required spells and concentration, but was more of a feeling, a touch. While he was unable to fly, perhaps indefinitely, it was nice to feel what he was born to handle.

He couldn't contain his happiness and began to carefully bounce around the fluffy cotton candy he was standing on. Corona pushed small portions of the table sized cloud this way and that, just because he could.

Lillian grinned along side him, it brought her great delight that she was able to make somepony smile. Corona had settled down on a plume of his hoof whipped cloud and closed his eyes. He was still grinning even as he slipped into a deep sleep.

He could sleep for half an hour before it was time to head inside for the night. But it was going to be the best sleep he could remember.

Chapter III

Chapter 3

Corona was shaken from the pleasurable sleep he was in. For the first time in what felt like his entire life he was able to ironically forget where he was, and it brought him peace. He felt that this was where he was meant to be, resting the soft cloud pressing up on his horizontal body, as a pegasus should. There were no dreams, no monsters that came to relieve him of his special place, just whiteness, as the rest of his life seemed to be.

He was shaken from the rest by a hoof on his shoulder, a gentle touch that rocked him as not to cause a panic or irritate his ribs. Lillian spoke softly into his ear.

"Corona, time to wake up."

He recognized the voice, the mare Lillian. His mind was swamped with images of of her, every time he focused on her face she bore a smile. As he opened his eyes, he was met with what he had seen in his head. Lillian smiling down on him.

"Time for dinner." she reminded him.

In an instant he remembered where he was, crushing the smile he had inside. The massive white stone building looming over the yard was a harsh reminder that despite his memory loss whatever he had called home before was gone, and this place was his home, for the time being. He'd already began to watch silently for anything to aid in an escape attempt.

Left mostly alone, company of the nurse-mare aside, his mind was a flurry of gears, spinning in both directions. He had no knowledge of who he was, constantly taking small jabs at the empty wall, hoping to uncover but a mere shred of who he was. In the other direction the question of why he was in Briar Hoof, as it has to be something most atrocious. Both of these questions burned strong in the back of his mind, always running possibilities in an attempt to answer them.

Corona carefully stepped from cloud hovering just a few inches from the ground. He kicked out a rear hoof slow enough so that ris ribs would be spared agony, but a strong enough kick so that the cloud dissipated with a satisfying *paff*.

"Time for dinner." Lillian repeated, walking slowly ahead as an indication for him to follow.

Following silently behind the mare he noticed the disarray the of the other ponies shuffling in the main hall. Aside from the locked doors on the ground floor of two wings, the main hall was the only freely open door to the fenced in yard during the day. Though the patients were being herded towards the cafeteria, it was a directionless. Many of them seemed to zig-zag with the crowd, only changing course when met by a musclebound orderly or a wall, both an impenetrable funnel towards their destination.

Corona would rather see a tight order, lines moving with purpose, direction. It wasn't a preference, but a feeling that if there was more order he would be able to make more sense if they were categorized. He shook his head. What an odd thing to think. But order would have been preferable.

His mind was wandering. The two questions needed quelling. Instead he focused on the one thing he knew to be true, that he was a pegasus. So far that had been the only fact he could believe in at this moment. He had to hold onto what that meant, that one day he would be able to spread his wings and take to the sky. This was a thought to hold onto, in case he began to feel overwhelmed by the walls.

As Corona moved in the line, Lillian a hoof step aside him, towards the cafeteria. She was smiling, perhaps happy to see him in lighter spirits than the morning. He only saw routine, something to stick to in the coming days. It played on the previous feeling of a needed order, structure.

He shook his head again. It meant something, or it was just nothing. Anypony watching this meandering scuffle would think the same. Lost bodies being guided by lost minds, and he was one of them.

While dinner was appetizing, both the hay and the strawberries were overpoweringly sweet, though it was a natural sweetness as there were no telltale traces of sugar. Other than the general muddy noise of over a hundred ponies that seemed to talk at once there was nothing remarkable to gleam.

The room slowly cleared, the ponies leaving in groups as various activities were called out. Art, music, games and group therapy. After half an hour everypony had gone aside from the off duty orderlies and a hoof-ful of doctors grouped together and talking quietly amongst themselves.

"It would seem that dinner is over." Corona observed redundantly.

"It is." Lillian nodded, though she made no effort to hurry him along to wherever he was going next.

"Am I supposed to have gone with any of the other groups? To an activity?" he asked with a guilty tone, fearing that at any moment somepony would stick their head from around the corner and angrily call out to him.

"No." Lillian said. "You have nothing scheduled at all. Not until you have a visit with Dr. Fetlock tomorrow morning. If all goes well then he could recommend some activities or you could select a few yourself."

"I see." he said in a low tone, ears folding to the sides of his head. This whole meeting with Dr. Fetlock was beginning to become intimidating, his whole future riding on some unknown outcome of what the doctor decided. At the very least he hoped that he would be told why he was here.

"What's wrong?" the mare asked, moving a hoof over the table's surface closer to his.

"I don't have any idea why I am here, or what I am have supposed to have done to be placed here. From my recollection I have woken up in an asylum, and while I have been treated well, everything is confusing. I feel as if I were put here under duress or against my will. I want to remember, to have things make sense. THAT is how I feel." his voice began to raise as he said this and ended with a tone of anger, using a hoof to send the empty platter from dinner in front of him skittering down the table.

Lillian hadn't moved during the verbal outburst, hadn't even flinched when the tray scratched noisily down the surface of the table.

"Everything hurts..." he trailed off, voice softening. "I'm scared..." he placed his nose on the table and put either hoof beside to hide his tears. "I'm scared."

Lillian placed a comforting hoof on his shoulder.

"This is always confusing for everypony. You are a bit worse off, not having any memory. I know how you feel."

"How could you possibly know?" the stallion sniffed, holding back more tears.

"I was a patient here once. Many, many years ago."

"You're lying." Corona elbowed her slightly away from him. Last thing that he needed was some song and dance about 'It's ok, I was there too.'

"I was just as confused and angry as you are. I thought that my parents taking me here was a mistake."

"I don't want to hear it, just leave me alone, please." he pleaded, covering his ears with his hooves.

"I became enraged, how dare anypony put me in some hell hole. I bucked and kicked and made a big deal about everything. No pony was safe from my hooves of rage. Deep down inside burned a will to escape this trespass against me."

Corona was listening, but was hoping that by pretending not to listen she would stop and take him somewhere else.

"As a spiteful mess of a teenager. I got the rough treatment, heavy sedatives, straitjackets and padded cells, the works. It gets lonely in the isolation cells. Just a low hum of the tepid air coming from the cracks near the ceiling. And your thoughts."

"After days of being constantly restrained, I had lost all my will to fight. The staff didn't believe me, the doctors saw it as a ploy to free myself from my restraints. I did ask that if they were not going to remove the straitjacket, that they at least cease the sedatives. We came to a shaky deal that I was to be on my best behavior. I followed my word and the doctors and staff followed theirs."

Corona removed his hooves from his head, but did not raise it. Lillian took this as a sign to continue, having piqued his interest.

"I begrudgingly spent a few more days in the isolation cell. I was quiet and did not cause any problems, but it didn't mean I liked it. All the time alone gave pause to think. I thought about why I was in here, why my parents would dump me in this..." she raised a hoof and spun it around in the air, as if to motion to the entire building complex. "Though since I could remember everything, this is where my story differs. I had searched my life for the answer, the haze of confusion lifted and I saw a mare on a one way ticket to derailing. In my rebellion against my parents I had become unruly. I had very few friends, the ones I did have were always willing to sell me stuff, that would take away my pain, the loneliness."

"It was a downward spiral. The more I began to drink and take drugs, the more I felt alone, the more I wanted to be separated from that pain, that lead to more drinking and drugs. Eventually the pain became too great, eating a hole inside of me. I spent days and weeks in a stupor. I told my parents to sod off, and would spend countless hours in my room bombed out of my mind."

"I realized that I had pushed away those that loved me and cared for me. I thought about ending it all. I thought that the damage I had done was too great to repair."

Corona was now listening with intent that she finish. As she spoke her eyes had glassed over with tears and she fought to hide them.

"I was ready to do it. I wasn't thinking clearly, or if it all. In my mind, If I ended it all, the pain would stop. It seemed like the only way. I sat on my bed, cradling my father's service pistol, it was good enough to do the job. I kept staring at it, for what felt like hours. Then I was a blank wall, the memories after that. It took weeks to remember what happened between then and when I was taken to Briar Hoof.

"When I did remember, it broke me, broke who I thought I was at the time. I remember my father walking in, seeing what his daughter was about to do herself with the pistol, he paused. He didn't gasp, didn't look surprised, he didn't try to stop me. He stood there, watching, waiting for what I was going to do."

"I never put the gun to my head, I sat there, shaking in fear of what I was going to do. I felt sick, stomach churning and ready to pass out, it had been hours since my last fix. For the first time I can recall I knew he was in the room. He may have been there the whole time and I didn't realize it. The pistol shook from my hooves, I couldn't hold it anymore, I turned to him, crying and said only one thing: 'Help me'. After then all went black, bits and pieces of traveling on the the road, my father and mother beside me. Then Briar Cliff."

Corona hadn't turned to watch her, just stared strait ahead to listen intently. The whole story was strangely reminiscent of what he was going through, but as of yet he had not experienced a breakthrough.

"After a few days of remaining calm and collected, I was released from my fetters and allowed to roam as I please, though within limits. My parents came for their first visit. I fell into their hooves and cried, told them how sorry I was, what I had done and how they had been shut out. They never said when I was to be released, but rather I told them that I would stay as long as need be. I had created this nightmare and it was something that I was going to have to live through."

"Desolation, isolation, revelation, detoxification and finally re-unification. It took nearly a year for me to feel confidant that I would be able to function on my own, though after the initial eight months the doctors said I was free to leave of my own volition. I stayed until I was ready."

"Once out, the world was my own. Everypony was a potential friend, and the thought that I was going to remove myself from this world and all the smiling ponies in it caused me to shudder. For the first time I realized that friendship starts with being friends with yourself, to love and accept who you are. To ask for help to fix what is wrong in you, if it was something that couldn't be done by yourself."

"I was a late bloomer, and ironically the same with my cutie mark, the Lily. I had been through alot and came out stronger. The lily stands for purity and friendship, and I had wiped away what was impure inside me, and gaining the friendship that matters most, being friends with yourself."

"What happened afterwards?" the pegasus asked, intrigued about the conclusion, the missing space between her stay and where she was now. It was more of an urge, to hear the whole story to it's completion.

"I was compelled to return to Briar Hoof, in a capacity to help others through their dark times. Bridleton was a newly forming costal town being fed by adventure and the high seas. Briar Hoof had been built on a plain a few miles outside of it's borders, there was little more then primary schools around. I headed north to Las Pegasus, a bustling town that never sleeps. Until the opening of the University of Medical studies in Manehattan a few months ago, Las Pegasus has the well renown College of Applied Medicine. I graduated two years ago and was taken in at Briar Hoof on an internship halfway through my schooling. The rest is history, and I have been helping ponies here ever since."

"That is amazing. Such a tale." Corona said with a hint of skepticism.

"I'll bring my medical records for you to see tomorrow then." Lillian replied. Perhaps such a harrowing tale of hitting the bottom and then climbing back up was a bit much for somepony in the same situation to believe. She knew that it seemed as if she was trying to buddy up to him, create a caring shoulder to lean on that was also a prominent voice in future treatment seemed like it was a facade to get other patients to hoof the line.

"But right now you are going to bed."

"What, now?" Corona asked.

"It's relatively late in the evening, and Celestia is nearly ready to push the sun below the horizon. I can show you to your bed for the night, take your medication and tomorrow will be a new day." Her tone was returning to the over the top cheerful attitude that rubber the pegasus the wrong way earlier. "Besides, you need to take things easy. Your body still needs time to heal."

Corona sighed, he was feeling exhaustion set in, the nap he took did just a little to restore energy. If anything it merely held off his eventual collapse from the day's events. As overwhelmed as he felt, it was probably best to turn in for the night.

"Let's go." he grumbled.

The Hospital was set up in wards. Ward A was where alot of the voulentary patients stayed, as well as those who were nearing their end of recovery. This wing held alot of the low risk activity rooms, as there were many things that one could hurt themselves on.

On the bottom floor there were the offices and records close to the main hall, followed by the supply rooms and the cafeteria with kitchen and food store room basement at the end of the wing. The second and third floors were patient rooms, eighty in all, twenty on each side of the floors. The fourth floor held a large library with a central observatory pushing through the glass ceiling in a bubble for a good view. The rest of the fourth floor were the activity rooms, art, music and a myriad of others.

The main hall served as a gathering point. With doors on either end and open doorways to either wings that surrounded it. The bottom floor was nearly empty aside from the great wooden receptionist desk and the two lifts that rose the open air to the top floor where the administration and doctors offices were. Around the walls were staircases that curved up with landings to each floor of the two wings.

Placed just under the main hall's floor were the rest rooms and showers, large signs for the ramps downwards under the ascending stairs let everypony know where they were. As a central point, it was the shortest route from all positions in the hospital.

Ward B was for the higher security patients. The ground floor had a guard post that was isolated from the hall with a metal locked door, a wire-mesh window allowed them to see outside, and activate the thick metal mesh door to let the proper ponies pass. Beyond the security checkpoint was the infirmary, locked at this hour as it held dangerous surgical implements and drugs. Following the infirmary were the surgical wings and therapy rooms, all locked.

The second floor was were the medium risk rooms were. Unlike the lavish 'suites' of Ward A, these rooms were more like cells, locked from the outside for safety reasons. These were for the unstable patients, those that were unaware of where they were or held contempt for being admitted. It was a lower security, mostly for those that had mental or motor functions who were more of a nuisance.

Floor three was for high risk ponies. Those that had shown a history of violence towards others or themselves. There were very few patients who spent most of their time in here, as they accounted for only a tiny portion of the population. They numbered in tens. Beds here were anchored to the floor with heavy bolts, straps lay across the mattress for securing all the limbs for the night.

The fourth floor was known as the 'Black Ward'. Heavy metal doors secured white thick padded cells, the isolation chambers. Dark, soundproof and lonely, these were the bane of every patient there, as trips tended to last a few hours to days. The ponies that were a threat to themselves or others were sent here to cool off, they could slam into each wall, throw themselves to the floor and scream until they were hoarse. Supply closets here were lined with straitjackets, muzzles and hobbles, tools to use on unruly ponies that hadn't been calmed with Thorazine yet.

Lillian stopped in the main hall, turning to Corona she said, "Last chance for the night to use the bathroom. I'd suggest you at least try, as there are no bathrooms in Ward B cells."

"Wait, I thought I was in A?" the stallion said with a tone of shock.

"For tonight you will stay in Ward B. Do not argue." Lillian's tone turned into deadpan speech.

"I'll use the bathroom then..."

He was right there, the front door waiting. It would have been a simple full gallop to freedom. His body was in no shape to run, much less a prolonged chase that would be required to escape properly. Besides he didn't know where he would go. Freedom would have to wait for another day. He didn't want to go into the high security ward, he was sure that was where he woke up. Padded cells and restraints, this was what he had to look forward to tonight.

After using the bathroom he exited to the main hall. Ponies in various colored vests were still roaming around, slowly making their way to where they were to bed down for the night. He was hoping that Lillian was gone, called away on some emergency. Instead she was standing there, watching the exit from the bathroom intently.

She had seen the look on his face as he eyed the front door. He was calculating the chance of escaping. The pegasus was smart, he knew that he didn't stand a chance, yet. Lillian was going to try her best to dissuade him from it, but that would take time, and it may be time that he didn't have.

The two were buzzed in to Ward B and after a quick stop to the infirmary to give the pegasus the required medication, they took the lift at the end of the hall to the third floor.

The hall was well lit, but the foreshadowing of what lay ahead made the lights seem dim, sapping the will to continue on down the hall and casting long invisible shadows of the cages around the light that appeared as claws on the stone floor. His body pushed forwards without his consent, his mind not wanting to be restrained further, but his body was already showing the signs of what had happened before when he resisted. It became a slow trudge on auto-pilot past the thin steel doors sunk into the stone.

"I'm going to give you a room as far away from the other patients here as possible." Lillian said, leading him down to the end of the hall.

Corona noticed that above each cell was a light, seemingly turned on when there was an occupant inside. Down the expansive hall he counted eight lights. He would be the ninth.

The two arrived at the end of the hall. The nurse-mare opened the door with her magic and held a hoof out, indicating that the pegasus should be the first inside.

There was a second of hesitation. He was roomed so far down the hall, a fear of being forgotten was a real possibility. The longer he waited, the more stern Lillian's expression became. He willed himself to stay, but moved forwards anyway. They were inside and the mare let the door click shut behind them, as she was the only one who was able to open it from this side.

The walls were a bare white stone with a window high above anypony's reach except a fully able pegasus. The bed was the most daunting, it was more than a mattress. It was a white sheeted mattress with a web of natural colored cotton straps. It looked like something where an unwilling pony was restrained as they were slowly pulled apart, piece by piece, struggling against the bonds as their life was slowly sawn limb from limb away from their body. It sent a chill down his spine.

"This is where I have to sleep?" he asked, worried about being restrained to the bed's face.

"Yes." Lillian said bluntly.

"Does this come off?" he asked, touching the jacket strapped to his torso. It was a stall tactic, trying to avoid the inevitable by asking questions.

"Yes, actually. But it will have to go back on in the morning." She directed a flow of magic to the jacket quickly reforming the pin, unzipping and lacing the piece and then pulling it from the stallion.

Corona spread his wings slowly, letting them stretch from the folded position they had been in most of the day.

"That feels good." he mentioned.

Lillian nodded. "Time for bed Mr. Plume." she voiced, using a formal name instead of his first name.

With his head lowered and tail tucked between his legs, Corona slowly walked past the mare and climbed up onto the mattress. He turned over onto his back and laid where he thought was most appropriate.

Around his chest he felt the weight of the canvas laying softly there. It was followed by a pair of clicks as the magnetic locks secured it.

"Is it too tight?" the mare asked.

"N-no." he stuttered between almost panicked gasps.

"It's alright. There is nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to be scared about either."

He grinned nervously at her.

"Besides, I can say that sleeping like this beats having your torso cradled in a straitjacket all night."

"I guess." Corona whispered. He began to nervously press his fore-hooves together as he felt more straps close around his limbs and click in place.

"Is this necessary?" he blurted out.

"Yes. And the only reason for it is the history you have had for violence."

Corona folded his ears back and didn't respond.

"Tomorrow night, if you behave, you can sleep in a bed like normal on the floor below."

"Promise?"

"I'll keep my word Mr. Plume, if you keep keep your word."

"I... promise." he paused, rolling his eyes away from the mare's gaze.

"You need to say it for the agreement to be good." Lillian furrowed her brow and pursed her lips.

"I promise to be on my best behavior." He said, raising a hoof as if under oath.

"Good, fore-hooves at your sides."

Corona was already cemented well onto the bed, and resisting any further wouldn't be good. He placed his hooves in the waiting restraints and they were snapped shut.

A feeling of total helplessness washed over him. There was no way he could fend off any attack, and move to safety. He would be at the mercy of anypony that decided to do him harm. Laying face up, his body was spread bare, vulnerable.

Lillian noticed that the pegasus was not fairing well to this new change. She moved to the side of the bed and sat down.

"Corona, you will be alright. This is just for tonight. In a few minutes the pain killers will kick in, and you will feel relaxed. One is extended release so that you won't wake up during the night in pain." she placed a hoof carefully on his chest to calm him.

"Tomorrow is another day, full of new opportunities. I'll be there for you if you need me."

He nodded, though his body had calmed, there was still fear in his eyes. A quiet plead to be released and sleep like a normal pony.

"It's going to be OK. You will get better. I did, and I wouldn't be here if not for Briar Hoof. I want to give the ponies here the same love and attention I received. Right now it may not feel like it, but there is no better place in all of Equestria for you right now." Lillian smiled as she slipped from the side of the bed.

He wanted to scream, to cry himself dry pleading for something normal, something that didn't remind him that he was a prisoner. He stifled the fear, screaming out now would put him in a mess he wanted no part of. He just shifted uneasily in the restraints.

The mare took her hooves on either side of his head and removed his glasses, placing them in the apron pocket of her uniform.

Lillian unlocked the door and picked up the grounding jacket that she promptly hung outside on a hook on the wall. She turned back and looked at the stallion who was peering over his chest to see just a glimpse more of her. Smiling warmly she said a final good night.

"May Luna watch over you tonight."

The door was softly shut, letting the click ring out in the loneliness of the cell.

Panic had given way to a decent buzz from the opioid he was given. He breathed a sigh of relief and let everything rest, the tense muscles that were searching all day for escape let go, the weary mind that had been ticking endlessly for answers became blank. With heavy eyelids weighted by his trials edging down ever closer to shut, he didn't fight them. The two eyelids meet up he drifted off into sleep.

Luna had forgotten about him tonight.

He began dreaming about the wall, his wall. The white one where nothing was painted. His empty life. It's clean surface bore down on him, beginning to grow taller and taller reaching to the sky.

Hours seemed to pass as he faced the wall, unable to move as if his body was stone. The pegasus was just staring with unblinking eyes, and as time dragged onto eternity he focused past the wall.

From either corner the white surface began to grey, tiny little webs cracked the paint spreading slowly across it's face as if lightning in slow motion. The grey shards began to corrupt the wall, curling the paint into geometric flakes that molded black before his gaze before falling to the floor.

In a revealed corner where the white had been eaten away he began to see tones of grey, two blurry shapes moving together side by side. He was unable to make out what kind of ponies they were, but ponies he was sure they were. A light grey pony and a nearly white pony, side to side running together.

The muddled ponies leapt together in what appeared to be happiness, chasing each other, running aside each other and then on top of each other. The blurs were to hard to make out a direct action, but the pose indicated they knew each other well and were sharing in each others love.

The tone quickly shifted as a black fog rolled over the figures. They began fighting with quick hoof jabs to the others face and body. As a silent observer, Corona could only watch as it escalated. Blood was drawn, and in the vision he was seeing it was the only thing that had color to it. Trickling down from the noses and legs of the two, it splashed crimson amongst the greys.

The darker of the ponies was pinned on the floor, the white one looming over it. The white one smiled as it brought the hoof that had been raised above it's head, clutching something in it's hoof. The grey pony seemed to be at an end, as he was now seeing from a position on the floor how the white pony was ready to end the fight.

What happened next was a flash, the grey pony whipped his hoof across the exposed neck of the white one. Where the blur had crossed the neck, a smile appeared, but it was too far below the face to have been a mouth. From the smile a sea of crimson misted the air, collecting at the lips it dribbled down the exposed under belly as a pyroclastic flow engulfed everything in it's way, turning white to red. The pony appeared to be in shock at the turn of events.

The hooves that were ready to land a killing blow fell limply to it's side. It sat there for minutes, eventually teetering over to the side into a pool of it's own blood.

It was just a dream, a sick one at that, but Corona felt guilty. He wasn't sure of what he just watched, but his stomach knotted as he came to the conclusion that he was watching something he did. There was no proof, but he felt the warm blood on his chest and it quickly turned cold.

He kept seeing the gaping hole in the neck. The body lying on the floor, passing into death as it's life had been drained. In a twist of surprise, the newly formed hole began to move as if something was emerging from inside.

There was no more blood to be spilled, instead he was forced to watch a spectacle that twisted his spine in agony. From the morose grin a black liquid began to seep forth. It was thicker than blood and seemed to pour out like slow molasses, congealing in a glob in the center of the blood pool.

As if a shining light was placed upon a creature who dwelled in the shadows, the sludge screamed out in pain. From it's center the crud began to swell, first at an alarming rate, then the bubble forming in the center spat out it's volume, a thick cloud of black smoke. The bubbles kept surfacing, slowly turning the ooze into smoke that was whipped away in an instant until the pool was gone.

There was no explaining what he witnessed. Somepony had died, and from it spilled what could only be seen as pure evil. The pegasus struggled to make sense of what transpired, so much so that when he realized that the smoke from the wound had begun to curl around his body, it was too late.

The smoke began to hold his limbs down, curling around the hooves and wings so that any amount of will he moved against the haze, it took the energy from his muscles and grew in volume. The more Corona struggled the weaker he began to feel, and the black wisp began to consume him more and more. It wound around his neck and began to trickle into his gaping muzzle, sliding down his throat.

Just as he thought that it was going to end him, a great gale blew across his body, stripping the fog away. As the thick tendrils of the smoke became wrenched from his body, it left a burning sensation as if his body was radiating heat from the areas it had touched. He didn't care where it went as long as it was gone, it left him shivering in weakness on the floor.

The wind blew again, but it was not as harsh this time. It swirled gently around his head, blowing his mess of a mane away from his ear. This wind felt like it entered his ear, bringing with it a sharp cold. It whispered to him,

"Fight back."

The meaning was obscured, fight back against who? The smoke? Briar Hoof? The questions were mounting and he needed to know. He couldn't shout, his throat felt too harsh, still burning from the choking cloud. He merely mulled the words around in his head.

His eyes opened, revealing the new day's sun blaring directly into them.

Corona felt a cool breeze across his torso and came to the realization that he was drenched in sweat.

Chapter IV

Chapter 4

The night was more than rough. When Corona bolted from the nightmare he had jerked at the bonds still cradled around his body, jarring him back into reality. Large amounts of sweat had pooled under him, dousing his fur and the cotton bindings to the point where they were still damp.

The pegasus gave an annoyed tug with a fore hoof, testing the resolve of his situation, and quickly found that they were not going to be pulled away. He was stuck for the time being, and as his bladder weighed the option of relieving itself or bursting. To hay with all that carrot juice they served, it had betrayed him.

He wanted to call out, so that somepony could hear him and come to his rescue. As he inhaled for the alerting shout, he paused to remember the tale that Lillian had told. True or not, perhaps spending some time alone to reflect on experiences would do some good. He instead released the breath into the air, feeling a stab from his ribs it cause him to cringe into a painful cough.

Corona focused on the dream. The white blur of a pony who's... he stopped this thought. Small tears welled from his eyes, as he thought about the figure he felt oddly attached to. That somehow he knew this white blurb of a memory, as it pained him to watch the life drain from it's neck. A knot formed in his stomach, feeling remorse for the sea of red that coated the body in his dreams.

He felt attached, that this white pony meant something. It was a mare-friend, or even his wife. That was a thought he wished he could erase, heart beating in his chest that in some way he had murdered his wife. If he had been married, had he?

Corona groaned out in pain. The memory playing over and over in his mind, becoming more aware that the bloodied figure was something special to him. Red mist and red drops as the face came into focus. Lovely goldenrod eyes that had been angered before, now constricted. They peered down at him in betrayal.

The eyes just stared, once flush with full color, now becoming the same grey as her body. All the pleasant thoughts and memories built in her mind began to fade as the electrical signals in her brain began to shut down permanently. They eyes slowly drifted upwards, their focus thousands of miles away. Her jaw fell slack and a single burst of breath escaped the lungs who had been frozen in fear, sending the cascade of red that had spilled into the trachea into the air as thick blobs. Each speck of blood pounded against his body, the wet smack echoing in his ears like a faucet left on during the night wearing constantly against one's sanity.

NO, he thought. This was NOT how it is. These thoughts are just from a bad dream, something whispered in his ear to tempt the sanity he was barely holding onto. He did NOT kill anypony. Get away, leave me in peace his brain shouted. The stallion's cheast began to heave rhythmically in short sharp gasps, fighting the pain in an attempt to get oxygen that he felt was fleeting.

'Pegasus, Pegasus' he thought, trying to push the red from his mind. 'Feel the wind passing gently over your coat, feel the clouds so soft and inviting. You are not here, you are high above Equestria and looking down at the houses. So small from up here.' he began to combat the darkness with what he knew to be true, the ONLY thing he knew to be true.

The line of thought was interrupted by the door to his 'room' opening, squealing loudly in the silence.

"Mistah Plume?..." and unfamiliar voice asked. It wasn't Lillian, but that of a stallion.

"Hello, yes?" he replied. "C-could you please let me out, I have to use the loo rather bad." The voice wasn't unwelcome, just rather surprised that it wasn't Lillian, the nurse that was assigned to him. But he was relieved that there was somepony else to break him away from the thoughts in his mind if only for a moment's respite.

"Ya, I can do `tat. But before we leave da the room, ya have to be fitted with da grounding jacket." the voice said, it was deep, commanding and most likely had twice the pegasus' size in muscle behind it as it came with an accent that seemed foreign to Equestria, perhaps a zebra or from the surrounding area.

With the lack of bi-spectacles, the shape of the stallion was apparent, but the white of his coat was obscured. He felt his restraints being unlocked, but the shape had no telltale horn of a unicorn. Soon he was free, but dared not move quickly from the bed, but rather stretch out his limbs, as they had been locked in one position all night.

"Here are your glass." the stallion said, lifting the blue horn-rimmed glasses to the front of Corona's muzzle.

He grasped them and placed them back on his face, so that he may see the world as properly focused.

Standing before him was exactly what he has speculated. It was a thick limbed Zebra nearly bursting out of the orderly white uniform with muscles drawing the cotton tight across his chest and stressing the buttons in the holes. While the black and white striped tail was neatly cut short, the piano keyed mane had grown quite long, it's length swept back behind his ears tied in a pony tail. It was a bit of a surprise, if pleasant, to say the least.

"Oh, hello." Corona said, lowering his back so that he appeared smaller to the intimidating orderly.

"Mah name is Pundamilia. But everypon `ere calls mah Punda." the zebra introduced himself.

"Good to meet you, but please, I have to use the facilities." Corona said quickly, feeling as if at any moment his bladder was growing with stretch marks.

"First, da jacket Mistah Plume." the wall of muscles said, and in a dark blue haze of what appeared to be a unicorn's magic grip the jacket he had worn floated across the floor, spread open and ready for him to step into.

If it were Lillian, he would have protested and made known that he wasn't able to fly. Facing down the zebra was another matter. It came to his mind that the massive hooves would have no problem flattening him against the ground if he hesitated but for a second. He lifted a hoof, indicating that he was willing to once again put on the restraint as the hospital deemed necessary.

"I'll watch yah ribs." Punda said, knowing full well that making the jacket too tight would cause serious medical problems and pain.

The levitated jacket floated to his torso and was laced tight in seconds, just as Lillian had done.

"How are you doing that, using magic?" The pegasus asked, calling to light that there was not horn protruding from the zebra's forehead.

"HA HA! It's zebra voodoo!" he boomed in laughter, using a short 'e' instead of the normal Equestrian standard of the long 'e' making zebra sound more like 'zibrah'.

"What is that?" he asked innocently.

"You lost yah mind `pon?" Punda asked, innocently, but quickly realized the weight the jovial question had behind it.

"I can't remember anything past yesterday, when I woke up here." Corona voiced defensively.

"Dats a sorryting `pon. I do hope yah remembah dough. Zebra's may not be a pegasus, or un-ahcorns, but we do know dah land and it speak ta us. Special gems are sometimes found, and dey are very powahfal. We take an become one wit da jems. It den lets us use it's powah."

Corona shook his head, trying to decode what he just heard. The accent was very thick and he tried to fill in the short pronounced words. He managed to conclude that '`pon' meant pony, the rest of the words were accented versions of 'this' and 'that'.

"Ya all right `pon?"

"Yes, just a bit confused. I'm sorry, I'm trying to wade though the thick accent. I haven't heard a pony like you before." Corona rubbed a hoof against his other fore leg in a nervous attempt to bleed of the tention he felt in his mind.

"Yah honor me Mistah Plume, I have nevah been called a `pon before."

"You ARE a pony, right?"

"Yah, zebra are pons, but alot ofdem don't see tings dat way."

The more he listened, the more he was able to put together the short throw words, but it was what he had said that confused the pegasus.

"Why don't others call you ponies? It makes no sense."

"Because we come from dah zebra eadlands an don't Honor Celestia as ah ruler. We have long been indahpendant from Equestrian rule, on ah own. So in ah sense of shame from dah crown, we ah called 'zebra' for not folding undah dere rule, dey consider us shamed and not worthy of da name ofpon."

"That is a shame that politics has to take rule over what we all are inside. I just want you to know that I consider you a pony."

"`Tank ya Mistah Plume," the zebra nodded. "We best be gone to breakfast. I could smell da blueberrey pawncakes at da door."

"Where is Lillian?" Corona asked, as he followed the zebra from the room, holding his rear legs close together while trotting as it felt better on his loins.

"She don't come till lunch `pon. For now, ya wit me." Punda informed him.

Pudenda lead Corona from the cell and turned the switch on the outside light off. The two entered the lift and passed the security checkpoint on the ground floor. The line for the cafeteria had already started, but it was much shorter. before the pegasus could wonder where the other ponies were, he heard the sounds of rushing water and voices from the ramp to the bathroom.

He trotted down the ramp in something right near a full gallop, intent on getting a stall to relieve himself there instead of on the floor, though with all the water pooled on the rough stone it would have gone unnoticed. Corona found relief in one of the empty available stalls lined up facing the door.

Past the line of stalls there was a wide doorway. Steam in the air and water leaving in streams was a clear indication of a shower room. Squeaks of rusty hinges echoing out meant there were lockers in there, and a quick run of his hoof over the top of his mane told him that he would need a brush to avoid looking unkempt for the day.

Corona went in through the steam and found himself in a rather open room. Shower heads bolted to the ceiling and hoof activated pressure pedals near the wall activated the water. Off to his right there were a line of grey lockers. They had been painted many times, each coat dripping the pooled paint more and more until it hung heavy on the doors in runs. It was a long shot, but there had to be one with his name on it.

A few minutes of looking past the names arranged out of order, he found his. The hinges dripped rust and as it swung open a piercing shrill filled the air, curling the ears of anypony nearby to protect their hearing. Inside he found plastic pouches with the morning accoutrements. Toothbrush, paste, and more importantly the brush. He pulled the bag from the locker and took them to the sink in the opposite room.

The mirror wasn't glass, as if it were broken would be quite deadly. Instead it was silver, tarnished corners where a rag could not wipe. It served it's purpose, as it reflected what would seem better than real glass. Everywhere he looked he began to realize that everything was constructed in a safety minded manor, no sharp edges on the sink, the stall doors had a handle on the outside, the rough stone floor and out of reach shower heads. A reminder that he was in a hospital. Corona took care of his morning grooming and replaced the bag back in the locker.

The pegasus felt better, at least more like a pony being able to take care of himself so that his appearance was more like one of society instead of a caged beast. Up the slip proof ramp he found Punda waiting.

"I thought you were just going to take me from the ward..." he said, wondering if he would have the massive pony as a shadow all day.

"Nah, Doctah done want ya bein` alone till he has a talk witcha." the zebra explained.

"Ok, I would rather somepony follow me around. I have a basic grip on the lay out and where to go, but it's always helpful to have a guide."

"Ya be fine. Quite suprised ya were in da cell, ya all quiet an timid. Most pon dere ah needin dem hoof jackets. Ya fine, till ya start actin like da foals."

"It was a precaution..." Corona lowered his head. "I took a blow to the head and haven't been able to remember a thing before yesterday. Dr. Fetlock thought that I may regress and become violent again."

Punda merely nodded. The line ahead of them progressed to the point where they could pick up trays to gather food.

During breakfast Corona asked about the gems, as the thought of giving the basic set of magic that unicorns have to an earth pony or pegasus was intriguing. If not extremely useful should he need it.

The gems were seen in the Zebra Headlands as gifts from the gods. The ability to manipulate without lifting a hoof made them sought after and precious. Most of the time they were found in rock formations or caves, and only would reveal themselves to those that deserved them. Once they were removed from the stone, the mere act of touching the gems took a part of one's spirit, locking in their allegiance to the discovering zebra alone. If a zebra was chosen, they would bring the stone to the village elder where it would be blessed, cut, polished and hung on a thin hempen rope. Any remnants of the gem from the process were ground into a fine dust, mixed with herbs and liquids, and given to the zebra that found it.

This was seen as the bonding ritual, as the gem had taken a part of the zebra, the zebra in turn takes a part of the gem as an exchange. Once consumed it awoke a sleeping power, linking the two together even past death. To be one with the gem was a great honor.

In the past there have been many ponies from Equestria proper who have sought the gems, few have found them. Those that did find them reveled in the joy it brought, but few were ready for what it meant.

The gems came from the Zebra Headlands, and when the Equestrian ponies that had become entwined with them left, it's power diminished and began to draw upon the soul of the linked one, death or a return to the Headlands solved the problems. The Zebras themselves did not suffer from these effects and it is speculated that it comes from a symbiotic type of magic, the zebras having had a greater tolerance to it's leeching tendencies.

It has become the center of many studies, but the best scientists from Equestria have not been able to unravel the mysteries behind them. Thus they remain a mystery, even to those that wield the power of the gems. To the zebras it was a spiritual event, as Punda explained.

Breakfast was seemingly over before it began, but the empty plate with a few telltale crumbs and an empty glass with a thin layer of milk stuck to the bottom was proof enough that he had eaten. Those and the blueberry seeds stuck in his teeth, the pegasus tounge kept exploring the surfaces of his teeth to remove them.

There was an odd line that formed in the hallway leaving the cafeteria, the ponies stopping at a table set up before the entrance of the main hall. Upon the table were stacks of paper cups and plastic jugs filled with water. Morning pills.

Punda led the pegasus past the table, nodding to the nurse as they passed and on into the main hall.

"I don't get any medicine?" Corona asked, worried that the pain would return from his ribs.

"No till ya meet with da doctah. Ya need a clear head `pon."

"I thought I would need some for the pain."

"Ya in pain?"

"No, at least nothing manageable. A slight sting when I breathe, but nothing that would cause me to fall to the floor." Corona answered, pressing a hoof gingerly to his side, stopping when it started to sting.

"Ya, `pons heal fast when it stops what dem ah born ta do."

Corona sat down on the polished floor, the painkillers had been numbing the pain of both his ribs and the hospital, making both tolerable. He'd have to... No, it wasn't something he would do. He pushed the thought of acting as if he had fell over to re-injure himself from his mind. For the time being he would have to get by without them. Dr. Fetlock would probably put him on mood elevators anyway, or some semblance of pills for treatment.

What does one give a pony with no memory of what happened. Surely there was a way to bring the memories to the surface, something, a spell?. There was the wall though, and if what he saw last night was true, there was a reason his mind had blocked it out, something more terrible than the sea of red he saw.

Red.

He began to shake, his front hooves clattering lightly on the marble floor sending hollow echoes out into the hall. They had been quite unsteady at breakfast, but he wrote that off as just the lingering fear that he would evacuate himself in front of everypony else. Bile rose to the back of his throat and instinctively swallowed to keep it down. He needed to stop thinking about the red mare, if it was a mare, mare just was the first thing he had thought when he saw the blurry images of the two 'together'.

"Ya ok `pon?" Punda asked, seeing his expression change from the flat lips to a frown that indicated tears would shortly follow.

"Just trying n-not to think of the dream I had." he responded, pushing his hooves down hard to the floor in a manner to stop the shaking.

"Bad dream?" the zebra put a hoof gently on his shoulder.

Corona straitened his muzzle and blinked several times. "Just... a dream. N-nothing more."

"Ya can tell da doctah in a few `owahs. Till den, we can head to the libree."

"Do they have news papers?" Perhaps the pegasus could read of his exploits, if they were headlines big enough to be printed. He was hoping to find nothing, but there was a small part of him that was expecting a three page spread.

"Not much recent, but most ah old by ah week or so."

"I expected as much."

The library was massive, at least as one he could compare by, this being the first he saw. The shelves were wood, through and through. They ringed the room forming a circle. It would have been odd, but a large circular platform from the center made it obvious why the room was designed that way.

A glass ceiling, made of squares that had squares inside them covered the entirety of the room, except the center. The center of the room had a massive dome covering it, wrought iron seams parted it, as if an orange had been sliced three times and turned into crystal clear glass. Small telescopes rounded the circular platform, pointed lazily in every direction. In the center was a large tube, a telescope for looking past the stars, as such a magnification would be used to reveal every crater of Luna's moon in detail.

The room smelled of oak and the musty twinge of books that had not been opened for hundreds of suns. The ink urging to look upon the the light of day.

They book were shelved in sections, fiction, non-fiction, history, fantasy, and foals. This surprised Corona, as he had seen no foals in the halls.

"Foals?" he asked in surprise, more to himself than anypony else.

"Ya. So sad ta see da small pons. But I guess allpons may have problems. Not dat many here nah."

"It must be harder on them. Growing up away from their family, confused and lonely." Corona realzied that he was beginning to explain himself. It seemed right, he didn't know much about his life, confused and alone.

"Dat it is." Punda replied quietly.

The new papers were no help. The stack had seen better days, and each dog-eared page had the ink smudged beyond comprehension. In addition to be in a near unreadable state, the paper looked like moths had gotten into the fine linnens. Very precise moths. Squares of text and images were removed, front pages had gaping holes, the obituaries pages were completely gone, torn from the other corresponding page. Everything of any value had be removed.

Amidst the new buildings, bakery openings and cheery editorials nothing was going to help. Corona piled the papers back up onto the round table where he had brought them. As much as the hospital seemed to have everypony in a state of perpetual lock down, it was no surprise that even information was restricted. The thought crossed his mind that he could ask for a more recent paper, even one from today, but he knew that they would refuse.

Waste of time.

The fettered pegasus leaned back in the chair and crossed his front hooves over his chest, thoroughly disgusted at the wall dividing him from information. Last hope was that Dr. Fetlock would fill him in completely. The quicker he could 'get better' the quicker he could leave.

Punda stood quietly at the entrance to the library, but never broke his gaze from the yellow pegasus. Corona turned his head to re-confirm this and turned back, letting his gaze float around the library.

The thought of the red mare returned to him. She meant something, as every minute he was not able to distract himself the 'memory' came back. It meant something. The last few seconds of the dream played over and over in his head. He could feel the hatred in her eyes, it spoke that her intent was to kill him. Then the smile and mist of red.

It became a continuous crushing blow, watching the anger dissolve from the mare into red flowing from her body. Her eyes became soft, as if awoken from a trance where she was being guided. The eyes became confused now, looking down at him. The stallion in red. They searched for a meaning as to why he was did it, why her life was flowing from her. A single tear streamed down her cheek before the mare leaned over, closing her eyes for the last time.

'It was just a dream' he told himself. 'Just a dream'. If it was, then why was he crying? He wiped away the tear and re-folded his for-hooves back across his chest. Inside his chest felt empty, something had been taken. The hole was screaming for him to do something, correct it by finding something to fill it. Aside from the battered ribs, he felt as if the rest were seperating, being pushed apart by his growing heart filled with sorrow. The feeling just sapped his strength and pushed more tears to the surface.

Corona was trying to sob quietly, suppressing the blubbering whines that clawed at his chest to escape, settling only for small rapid huffs of air and a silent stream of tears. He closed his eyes and dropped his head. He couldn't have killed her, but the pain in his chest seemed to indicate otherwise.

"Ya all right `pon?" the zebra asked having left his post at the door when he heard the poorly stifled sorrow.

"No..." Corona answered through a veil of tears. "I think I...I may have killed somepony c-close to me. I need to know, t-to be able to justify or deny this... hole." he stuttered, it was becoming more common when he was upset.

Punda had nothing to say, he was merely there to watch over Corona, just another assignment.

"Ten let's go an see da doctah. `Tis about time."

Corona mustered up as best he could and put his shaking hooves on the ground. They seemed worse, more unstable, less controllable. It was just something else to worry about, but something to keep him from his thoughts.

He had to concentrate, every hoof step that wasn't focus was a threat to his balance. It was concerning that he was loosing more control of his body, he had enough problems as it was, and he feared loosing control of basic motor functions would do more to destroy his sanity than the Psychiatric Hospital could ever do.

The lift ride from the fourth floor was short to the administration offices as they were technically the fifth floor. Wooden lined hallways and doors that towered to the ceiling. They served as great barriers as well, protecting those that locked themselves inside.

Dr. Fetlock was seated inside his office. The off-red pony adjusted the thin rimmed bi-spectacles back further up his nose. The white lab coat he normally wore had been folded haphazardly across one of the chairs in front of the great wooden desk. He looked up from the desk as Corona and Punda walked inside, taking a moment to adjust his short tie up further on the white collared shirt.

"Corona." he nodded, acknowledging his presence.

The pegasus wondered what kind of vocal lacerations he would receive this time. Last time the Doctor was not too kind, perhaps one of the only ponies in the hospital seemed off, in relation to what he had experienced.

"Going to yell at me more." the snide comment leaked from his lips, it just came out and he didn't mean for it to. It was just a different emotion to quell his mind from the sadness pressing in.

"I want to apologize for that actually. When you were approached before yesterday, it was always met with an explosive violent outburst. Yesterday was attempt to confirm that you were no longer acting in that manor, as uncalled for as it was." Dr. Fetlock said, it wasn't much of an apology, but it was probably the best he was going to get from a proud medical professional.

Corona felt that it was most appropriate to take a seat in front of the desk. He did not exchange words, but merely sat down.

"In light of this change, and in the hopes that you should stay this way I will try and answer any questions you may have that I do not deem detrimental to your recovery. After the evaluation."

"What exactly am I 'recovering' f-from?"

"Mr. Plume, I did say after the evaluation." Dr. Fetlock reminded him.

Corona grimaced, pushing his hooves into the cushion to steady them, not what he was wanting to hear. It also sounded like he was going to have his questions selectively answered. "OK."

"How are your ribs?" Dr. Fetlock started off, and gasped the thick folder he had yesterday with a cloud of unicorn levitation. He opened it then produced a silver pen and a yellow pad, writing the day's date on it and pausing for an answer.

"They don't hurt as bad. I haven't had any painkillers this m-morning, but they aren't pulsing with pain. I guess it would be a s-small hint of it when breathing."

Dr. Fetlock laid the pen across the notepad and focused his mind towards the pegasus, feeling his chest inside and out. Once satisfied that the truth had been told, he returned to the notepad to write down his findings.

"They are on the mend, and I think the worst of the pain is over. Provided that they are not injured again, you should be able to attend physical therapy in a week. Now, how do you feel." his hooves waved in an outward motion away from him.

"I feel lost, like I shouldn't be here. I've seen the other p-ponies, and they should be here, but I am not like them. I am more or less physically capable of leaving, and if somepony was to tell me exactly who I am, I feel that I could return to whatever life I had."

"Do you know why you cannot remember?"

"No, but it must have something to do with my head injury." Corona stated.

"The memory loss goes far beyond a head injury, Mr. Plume," Dr. Fetlock said, "It's stems from an event, the one that brought you here. This 'event' was painful enough that your mind blocked it out, it fractured your personality. You did this to protect you from the pain, the grief you experienced. The blow to your head was just the starting point for this fracture, as your mind had slowly begun to break before. Do you understand?"

"No, this is what is c-confusing me. WHAT did I do? It had to be something horrible." It was the mare in red, there was no other explanation. Corona just needed to confirm it, as much as it would sink him.

"I am afraid that if I reveal the entirety of events that it is possible you could relapse, or potentially it could fracture your mind further, and what do you think would emerge from a second break?"

"I need to know, I feel that if I did, things would make more sense. From my perspective, I'm being held against my will. If I knew there was a good reason that I was here, it would mean that even if I don't recall what happened, I could accept that I really am crazy and do need to be here."

"Mr. Plume," Dr. Fetlock raised his voice "We do not use the term crazy. There are medically diagnosable terms that refine the general term as 'crazy' into categories. Each of which are treatable with time and medication. If I ever hear that term from your mouth again, I will have you muzzled until you can verbally control yourself."

The conversation was getting nowhere. He hadn't learned anything.

"Then use your 'medical' terms and t-tell me what I did." Corona was trying to edge in more aggressively, but as he tried to speak in this manner, he began to stutter.

"You were brought to Briar Hoof in a psychotic rage, triggered by the event you had experienced. As that faded, your personality fractured, leaving you in the state you are in now. In your psychotic rage you injured some ponies. What caused the rage has yet to be determined, but a first guess would be a severe depression."

It was that sick feeling again, his stomach twisting in an icy grip. He was using 'injured' as a soft term, but somehow he knew the truth. It was her, he had hurt her.

"The mare in red." he whispered, a tear rolling down the side of his face, it's route already etched by those he cried in the library.

Dr. Fetlock stopped writing, his ears perked up and he stared at Corona. "What did you say?"

"It was a dream I had, n-nothing more." The pegasus whispered, fearing that he let something slip that shouldn't have been mentioned.

"Tell me about the dream."

"It was n-nothing. Something I had just made up to scare m-myself..."

"It may not be nothing," The wide eyed expression and alert ears facing forward let Corona know that his dream was something. "I'll need everything I can from you to set up a course of action, to provide the most direct treatment."

"It has something to do with the wall."

"The wall?" Dr. Fetlock inquisitively repeated.

"It's what I call the block. When I try to remember what happened I get a wall. It's made of fuzz, if that makes sense. The more I try to push past it into my memories it pushes back harder. I think it is that fracture you described."

"Last night, after I had fallen asleep I saw this wall again. A black smoke rotted it before my eyes, just a portion of it. It's hard to describe, but it s-showed me something, something horrible." he watched the doctors expression, but it just stared on, hooves pressed together in front of his muzzle, urging him to continue.

"It was blurry and grey, like I had no glasses. I managed to make out two ponies. One was nearly white, and the other was a grey. They looked happy, as far as I can tell, trotting in a field, running to catch the other in a playful manner. They... shared of themselves there. It was blurry, but there didn't need to be details to see that they were in love."

"The whole time it was like watching through a thin cloud. But that cloud turned dark over time, and the two began fighting. The white one, the mare was able to kick down the other pony and sat on top of him, her hooves raised over her head. The pony on the bottom did something to her, he..."

Corona had to stop, his hooves began shaking beyond control, visibly so that they were seen by the doctor.

"He- he..." tears dripped from the corners of his eyes, feeling that the tale he was telling was from his perspective.

"She j-just turned red."

He clasped his fore hooves under his armpits, locking them close to his torso, the shakes were getting worse. The emptiness returned, the regret for watching her die. The regret for making her expire.

"Her eyes, t-they stared at m-me..." Corona closed his eyes and heaved out short panicked breathes.

"They-just-kept-asking..." his words began to be strung together between rapid gasps.

"Why-they-kept-asking-why."

Corona leaned over in the chair, shivering in disgust, now unable to control himself turned the sniffle of tears into a quivering mess bawling out of control.

Dr. Fetlock had been stunned by this. Such painful memories that had been blocked were generally the last ones to surface, but for some odd reason this came to light first. He couldn't imagine how this made Corona feel, he could see in an outward fashion what it was doing, but as just a fragment, the worst of them, alone it must have been hell.

The pegasus had already seen it once, and each time he told the story again it was just like killing her again and again. There were other memories, more pleasant ones that he could not remember, and without these to help counter the dark ones, it would continue to become harder and harder to convince him that there was the possibility it was not his fault.

"Corona." He said softly, approaching the pegasus in an attempt to console him. "We still don't know everything there is about the ordeal. Briar Hoof is not in the field of study to determine the entirety of events, we are here to deal with the aftermath."

The pegasus didn't react, as if he didn't hear a word from the doctor. He just sniffed between the tears, trying not to let anything spill from his nose.

"Mr. Plume," the doctor had taken to sitting on the floor in an attempt to move dirrectly into his view. There was little the pegasus was seeing through the wall of tears. "I'm afraid that if you don't calm down and regain some semblance of control, I am going to have to give you a sedative."

"T-take-it-away. I-I don't want t-to feel this-anymore..."

"Feel the pain? The shakes? What don't you want to feel?"

"E-everything. It's too-too m-much."

"I can give you some sedatives, help you calm down." Dr. Fetlock offered, trotting over to the desk to have a nurse bring up some.

Corona felt empty. He had taken away his special some-pony, not just taken, but he murdered her. He didn't know why, but he knew that he loved her, it was something he knew. Anypony that did that didn't deserve to live.

The black hole inside him was ripping him apart, there was no way that he could stand anymore time with this feeling of emptiness inside him. Even if he was sedated, eventually it would stop and he would be forced to live with the memory that he killed her. Ending himself was the only way to make it stop, then when they met again, he would be able to tell her how sorry he was, to make amends.

"I c-can't... I don't f-feel that I can't... live-anymore-not-after-"

"Corona, do not finish that sentence. You do not want what I will have to do to you if you complete that thought." Dr. Fetlock placed a hoof on the pegasus' thigh. "You are feeling the worst of your memories right now, but there are better ones, you haven't felt them yet."

"Then make t-this stop. K-kill me, or I w-will."

Dr. Fetlock nodded. He slowly backed away from the pegasus, maintaining visual contact. He pressed a hoof on the intercom.

"Send Lillian up with some sedatives, a wheel chair and-" he whispered in a low tone "...a straitjacket." He then turned back to Corona who had slouched lower into the chair, a hoof resting on the side. He turned his head to the side in interest.

"When did your hooves start shaking?"

"T-this morning, bef-fore breakf-fast."

"And you were not given any medication, correct?"

Corona nodded slightly.

Dr. Fetlock returned to the desk and began to page through the files in Corona's folder, peering up every few seconds to make sure the pegasus was not doing anything dangerous.

Paper after paper had no mention of any previous medical history. He found nothing useful past the written sections, but there was a mention that his blood alcohol level was above the legal limit, way higher. He was suffering from withdrawal, the opioid was suppressing the condition.

Lillian entered the room in a hurried trot, pushing the wheelchair up to the side of the chair. She spotted Corona slumped over in the chair, the swept up mane of yellow tipped orange being the give away.

"Corona!" she gasped, trotting around to face him. "What happened?"

The pegasus was in a sad state. He seemed unresponsive, his tears had trailed off into watery unfocused eyes, staring past the bookshelves. His fur wet with tears that had fallen from his face. The hooves she had seen before were now shaking uncontrollably, but not out of fear or sorrow.

"I... killed h-her."

"Ohh..." She reached forward and wrapped both hooves around his torso. "It's all going to be ok."

"It's n-not." Corona mumbled, still seated in the same position. He was aware that Lillian had her hooves around him, but it meant nothing to him.

"You remember when I said that I felt like it was all too much. That I wanted it all to stop. It's a feeling you are going to need to work through, just like I did."

Dr. Fetlock retrieved the leather case from the wheelchair and opened it up. Inside there were several vials held within loops, he selected one and removed a glass bodied metal cased syringe and used it to draw a small amount of liquid from the vial.

"Nurse." he motioned for her to step aside. "Mr. Plume, I am going to give you some medicine, it's called Thorazine. It's going to make you feel a bit off, but it's going to help with how you feel. I'm going to need your hoof."

Corona let his hoof down from the side of the chair, holding it as steady as he could, but it still was not enough. He didn't move any other part of his body.

Lillian stepped into the seat in the direction he was facing. "Corona, do you know where you are?" she asked, seeing that he was growing more despondent.

"I'm in a nut h-house, because I am... insane." It was the right word, what other pony murders their wife?.

"No, you are safe. Here with us to help you." she voiced quietly, letting him know that whatever he did, there was still hope. "You don't know the whole story. I can't tell you now, you have had to deal with too much today already. When you work through what you know, we'll be able to tell you."

He felt the sting in his shoulder from the needle and once it was withdrawn he swung his arm back in close to his torso and lowered his head. He was disgusted with himself.

"You are going to feel disconnected in a few minutes. Like you aren't really here, just watching. Before you slip under this influence I need you to promise me something." Lillian said softly.

"To get b-better." he muttered.

"To get better." Lillian echoed.

"You also s-said you wouldn't coddle me."

"I didn't mean to, I just saw that you needed help. A calming voice helps alot better than a temperate or harsh tone." she let a hoof slip from the rest on the chair and reach over to his, the shaking having been calmed from the onset of the Thorazine.

"Can w-we start over? I don't w-want to die... anym-more."

Lillian glanced up at Dr. Fetlock, who offered an approving nod but made a motion to the straitjacket on the seat of the wheelchair. She let her smile drop.

"Yes, we can start over. I won't treat you as a foal, and you won't try to hurt yourself-or anypony else."

Corona's twisted scowl raised in a slight bit of relief. "I promise." he raised his head and held his hoof out, Lillian raised her and let the two touch softly with a muffled clop.

"But for now, you are going to have to wear a straitjacket, just for a little while though. Just until we can get the Thorazine dosage correct. It has to be balanced just right or it does nothing, or put you in a haze to drool all over yourself."

Corona nodded, shifting forward in the chair wiping the tears from his face and then held his hooves outward. "What you think is best."

Lillian concentrated around his form, lifting him from the chair. She removed the grounding jacket in seconds, letting it fall to the floor. The pegasus offered no resistance as Dr. Fetlock moved him into position, sliding the long sleeves over his fore-hooves. The jacket wrapped around his torso and buckled closed along his back. The front sleeves were guided through the respective loops on the front and sides of the jacket. The long strap on the sleeve met up with the buckle on it's opposite.

The deed was done and the pegasus was lowered into the wheel chair.

Corona felt his head buzz, the drug creeping up each side on the inside of his skull, blanketing his brain in it's numbing power. His hooves felt light, and became confused when he couldn't tell how they were positioned. He knew that he was sitting, and restrained, but that seemed like so long ago.

"Corona."

A voice. It was the mare, Lillian.

"Corona?" she asked again, calling his attention to her. He turned over to where he thought it was coming, he was unsure, as every sound seemed deadened, filtered through cotton.

"How do you feel?"

She was on the opposite side to where he was looking, and swung his head slowly around. She was smiling.

"I feel... not... right." he said slowly, surprised that his voice sounded different.

"That is the Thorazine. It has a tendency to deaden most of any perceived senses. Like everything is experienced inside a cloud." Lillian explained.

"Mr. Plume. How do you feel about the mare in red?" Dr. Fetlock asked, having taken his seat back behind the desk.

"I'm sorry for her. Sorry that she's gone. Who was she?" Corona stated, his voice slipping into an emotionless mono-toned level.

"She was your wife." the doctor responded.

The pegasus nodded. "I did, do that to her?" he couldn't mention it. The split he felt in his chest was softer, it's call for sorrow had been nearly silenced, but he still couldn't let himself say it for fear that he would see the images again.

"It appears so. But Mr. Plume, the investigation into the incident has not been completed. There may have been a reason, or none at all. For now we are merely dealing with what is... left of you."

"I'm sorry. Sorry that I can't help, can't remember. That she is gone."

"I need to ask you, if you are ready to speak with the detective." Dr. Fetlock asked. He closed the file on his desk after having shoved the papers inside.

Corona blinked rather slowly. "Detective?" he mumbled, as if his expression was not enough of an indication that he was confused.

"Yes, as part of the criminal investigation. He has taken a train from Detrot yesterday when word reached him that you were coherent. Bridleton has a very small police force, and certainly not anypony that can see this through to the end." Dr. Fetlock said. "Do you feel up for it, at least to tell him what you remember so far?"

"I can, anything to help." The pegasus nodded.

"I have Miss Ingvarr give him a ring, he can be here within the hour. Nurse, I am afraid that I'm going to have to ask you to remain with Mr. Plume. I administered forty milligrams of Thorazine. Monitor his condition and in a few hours you can add or decrease the dosage, depending on how the results from the initial dose fair."

"Of course." Lillian put the leather satchel from the desk's edge in the pocket of her blouse.

"I expect the detective will be here within the hour. It's-" the doctor paused to look at the clock. "-almost lunchtime. I'll have three lunches delivered to Office Three B, down on the lower floor of Ward A. It's grilled cheese with tomato soup for lunch."

"Sounds good." Corona chimed in. "Lunch with the detective."

Lillian stood up on her rear hooves and grasped the hoof holds for the wheel chair, pushing the pegasus towards the tall doors.

"And Lillian-" Dr. Fetlock said, the mare turned her head towards him. "Don't let the detective say anything past what Mr. Plume knows. He has been through enough today, and doesn't need to know the full extent of what..." he paused, looking for the right words, "what he did."

Lillian faked a smile. "I will."

"What was that about?" Corona asked.

"Nothing you need to know about..." she patted him on the shoulder, not sure if he would feel it through the jacket and the Thorazine. "Not right now, anyway. You'd break if you knew, drugs or not." she whispered to herself.