Embracing the Sun

The Next Morning

I was...mad.

The thought came to me from within the confinement of the bathroom, and yet it was partially true.

I was standing in front of the mirror as Celestia's snoring echoed throughout the room, nursing myself with the exciting idea of getting breakfast from downstairs.

In fact it was by far the best idea I've had in mind since the alicorn kicked me out of bed and threw an extra blanket to the shitty couch known as a futon. Damn thing gave me a hunch from all the fucking springs that are broken and misaligned, and I just took that shit without arguing.

I've lost some of my manhood over the weeks, but I'm not losing any more of it, because I'm the man of this relationship, and I am the one that is protecting her from the craziness of this fucked up world.

All I have to do is be kind and sensitive so that she sticks with me for the many miles we have ahead of us. Sure I can buy a couple of plane tickets, most likely the first class section, but I am wanting to stay on the move as long as possible. Just an hour of standing in an airport risks Celestia and I being spotted by my Super Crazy Ex-Girlfriend.

All is fair in love and war, and that girl is at war with finding me. But it's not like she can anyway, not when I left her to freeze in the cold, with a truck that has flat tires.

That'll teach the bitch.

Perhaps I should get back on track before I dwindle on something else.

I finished up with shaving the beard that miraculously grew over last couple of months, hair thick and curly, or so it was before Gillette came in to play. I spent my hour in the bathroom while Celestia slept peacefully on the bed THAT I RENTED, legs sprawled across the covers, wings hanging over, and her tongue dripping with a little saliva. She was the hilarious concept of a beautiful angel resting her eyes after a hard day's works, and I get front row seats to see her look so...heh, heh...peaceful.

One slide, two slide, and another for good measure. I remove the last stroke of facial hair and clean up with some of the After-Shave that I found in the bottom drawer of the cabinet. I had forgotten how bad this stuff stings, but I needed to have a good smell on my face so that Ms. Sunny Butt doesn't complain about my hygiene.

I pressed my hands to my cheeks, my eyes snapping open as I remembered the kid from Home Alone. His reaction was pure genius when he used After-Shave, and I had the terrible honor of reacting the same way. Except for screaming like he did, because that meant waking up the sleeping goddess from whatever dirty dream she is having.

I whimpered while fighting the urge to cry. The piercing cold touch of alcohol shifted to a harsh burn on every follicle that use to have hair on it. Holy Sheep Shit Batman! This fucking burns!

Eventually the burning went away, but the memory is embedded to the frontal lobe of my brain. I will never forget how bad that stung, and I sure as hell will never use it again. It was like a nest of hornets dipped their stingers in hot lava before assaulting my face a thousand times. I didn't know whether to kick my own ass or to praise myself for not shedding a tear.

Gentlemen, if you think you're a real man. Then try After-Shave after shaving your face. That is a true testament of your manhood.

I can honestly say with absolute confidence that my balls grew a little bigger from that. Hell, the weird change in my girth seems to have sprung something out of me, or I could be developing some odd disease that makes your penis grow until it blows up.

...

I'll stick with the latter of the two, just so as long as nothing happens.

I wonder if maybe Celestia's magic has something to do with this, or that she actually had the gall to change a certain part of me. If so, then her and I going to have a serious talk about respecting the other's body. I mean it is fine if I am little bigger, but anything above eight inches is a bit excessive to me. The last thing I want is to wake up to is Little Joshua being bigger than a Pringles can.

Maybe this is what Celestia meant by me becoming like her?

"Nah, couldn't be. I still have hands and feet, and I'm certain that dick growth is not the first sign of change."

As I was mulling with the painful memory from a minute ago, I contemplated what I originally planned for my morning without The Butt Bucking Alicorn breathing down my shoulder. My ass still hurts from her kicking me like, and I'm pretty sure she left a bruise on the left cheek.

I was finally in decent clothing when I left the bathroom light on to make sure Celestia does not trip in the dark. It is seven in the morning, and the sun will not show in another hour, so it is only right of me to make sure.

I walk around the many Hostess Cup Cake wrappers Celestia left on the floor instead of putting back in the box, and grab the covers while she is not laying on them. Regardless of her addiction to anything that has the word 'cake' in it, I gently fold her wings back into place and pull the comforter over before leaving the room for a little while.

I am still mad at her for kicking me out of bed, but that does not mean I have to be a jackass as about these things.

I brush a few strands of her mane from her eyes, my touch drawing out a long moan as she rests so beautifully. I had no clue as to what came over me with this sudden urge to be loving. It was like someone is controlling my mind and body, forcing me to do this stuff without showing a bit of mercy.

I was a slave to my emotions, or to the love I have for this mare.

I lean down and softly kiss her cheek, whispering when I retreat, "As mad as I am right now...I love you."

I tiptoed out of the bedroom and locked it while other people were making their way to the elevator, scrunching up in that piece of shit for a lazy decent when this is the third floor. It was only a few stairs, but I guess you need to use the elevator when you're a fat ass.

See, that's where I clarify now. As far as it goes for using an elevator, I believe that such a privilege should be given only to those that are injured or disabled. I am a firm believer in normal people needing to walk more and never use an elevator, because laziness is the number one fact of obesity.

It isn't what you eat, it isn't what you drink, it is the simple fact that many people in today's society are too damn lazy to get off their ass and go do something active. You can eat sweets and drink sugary stuff all you want, but you have to remember that what you consume needs to be burned out of your body through exercise.

Anyway. Now that I made sure of the door being locked from the outside, I made my way to the stairs while everyone else was fighting for space in the elevator. Some were skinny, some were average, but there were some who looked as though they need a wheel-chuck in case they fall down a hill. I mean, come on, these guys are my age or a little younger, and they have more weight on them than two of me.

I could not feel pity for those guys, because they have the ability to change their lives. Don't get me, I eat sweets and drink sugary drinks, but I watch what I eat and exercise on a daily basis.

Well mostly exercise throughout the week. Ever since Celestia came into my life, I'm crunching my time so that I can get a good hour of exercise in.

"Pathetic." I whisper down the first step. When suddenly-

"Wait! Hold the elevator!" I hear to my left. I register the voice to be a young female that is desperate to reach the elevator, but she's already too late.

Exasperatingly, I step back from descending the stairs and look to my left to see the owner of voice rolling for dear life. Yes, rolling, and she was panting when she passed me in her wheelchair. I barely had time to snap my eyes in shock before leaning against the wall to not have my feet ran over.

"She's in an awful hurry."

"Wait!" she yelled again, but the fat fucker that is holding the door just smiled and said that there isn't enough room her.

Seriously, he couldn't have gotten out of that fucking box of metal and have given his spot!? That is beyond fucked up and downright selfish of him; it is not human of him to be so greedy for a spot in the elevator. Sure he wants his morning snack of ten waffles and thirty eggs, but for god's sake HAVE SOME KINDNESS FOR A CRIPPLE, NOT SPIT AND VINEGAR.

I grip the railing as tightly as I can, aware that the connection Celestia and I have is allowing me to leave imprint in the bar. A long and irritated sigh slips through my lips as I watch the long haired blond whimper out of frustration. She sat in front of the elevator and grumbled while the elevator started to have some problems with the weight limit, something I did not expect to happen after the doors closed.

I think long and hard while looking back and forth for someone else to come be the hero of this predicament. But alas, the only man that is in this hall is the guy that is looking at her right now. And that man just so happens to be me.

I always make sure that someone else can take of a problem, especially when it comes to asking if she needs help, offering your helping hand, and dragging out a conversation that is not my forte'.

As I realized how much god is making me the hero of this encounter, I walk towards the sad woman and take in her beautiful figure with my eyes. She was very curvy for someone in a wheelchair, and I mean that in a very good way. Her bust was near equal to Celestia's Bayonetta form, cotton shirt lining with her large chest and rump. Her arms and legs had a perfect tone of muscle and smoothness to them, as though she were Wonder Woman in a wheelchair.

But her eyes, her soft, beckoning, purple eyes, they glowed brightly underneath the tears that dripped as she held onto a novel.

I was...no, I am so mesmerized that I could not tear away from her. I felt so intrigued to help her that I forgot how much I despised being a good man to others.

"Miss," I grab her attention with my voice, a soft coo gracing my lips. "Are you alright?"

She quickly dries her tears and turns her wheelchair to my direction. Our eyes meet as the elevator remains stuck on whatever malfunction it is having. We stand there for about thirty seconds as the soft dew of red on her cheeks becomes rose red from embarrassment. I did not blush, but rather smiled so warmly while sorting out what it is I am feeling.

It isn't affection or a spark of attraction, but something that reminds me of Celestia carrying a familiar radiance.

Finally, she coughs into her hand and smiles at me. "Yeah, I'm alright. I just need to wait for the elevator so that I can get some breakfast."

I drop the smile and look up to the small monitor; two and three is where it kept flashing as the alarm set off inside elevator shaft.

"Seems they exceeded the weight limit." I said dryly, a giggle being my reward.

"Yeah, it would seem so." she said into her palm, muffling her amusement.

"Dear God, she even sounds like Celestia."

I cocked an eyebrow and crossed my arms at this, although the small grin I grew did not fade away.

"I'm Joshua." I said casually.

"I'm Celist, but everyone calls me Celly."

"Okay, is it just me or am I having some weird moment of The Twilight Zone?"

I nodded and tapped my foot absentmindedly, waiting as patiently as I can for the damn elevator to get fix. But to my dismay, it continued to go haywire as Celist and I shared our silence. I was starting to get frustrated by this, and she was getting the same way. I could hear her tapping a finger on the left and groaning under her breath.

To be honest, I was a little surprised that she already got this frustrated with me. I figured that a person in a wheelchair has the patience of a god, but I guess there is a balance in life, and she happens to be one of those people that have little to no impatience.

"Hurry up." she whispered. I noticed that her stomach started to growl, just like mine.

"Yeah, pardon my language, but this is bullshit." I tell her, while rolling my sleeves up. "We're not waiting for this piece of shit to drop the load of fat asses it has inside."

Celist cocks an eyebrow at me. "Huh?"

Having enough of this, I kneel down and hold my arms out as Celist gives me a quizzical stare. "Come on, I'll carry you down to get breakfast." I say. She leans away and glares at me suspiciously. "At the rate this is going, we're going to be here all day. So let's get down to the cafeteria and grab our food before the elevator is fixed."

Silence was the response I got out of Celist when she stared at me so distastefully. I can understand that a total stranger offering to carry her down three flights of stairs is not normal, but it beats what we are doing right now. Besides, I have growling stomach telling me to get my ass moving, and I have an alicorn princess alone in my room.

Celestia does not need to be left alone for long, and I am not waiting another damn minute for something to happen.

"I promise you, I'm not some sort of creeper or a serial killer." I said conversationally, if that is at all possible.

"Yeah, well just so you know, I have a pistol in my purse." she replied threateningly, flashing a black eagle from the opening of her purse. I take that into account. "And I promise you that I am not afraid to put a bullet in your head if you try anything."

"Well she's a feisty one."

"I'll keep that in mind." I tell her. "Now please, come on, my stomach is starting to tear itself apart."

Luna

Silence...

All I can hear is silence...and a machine.

"Why is it so quiet?"

I opened my eyes and yawned loudly as the morning light of this universe's sun beamed through the curtains. I had to cover my eyes from it in order to see where I am, but only for a moment. I tried my best to stay awake overnight, but sleep is one of very few privileges I have to myself.

I couldn't see outside the window to my left, nor to my right. They were covered in the continuing blizzard I comfort the little ones through, and Joseph sits in front of me, with his hands on the wheel.

I am not ashamed to admit that I am comforting the monster that once controlled me, because she is not the monster I remember. The Nightmare Moon that is beneath me, resting against my leg, is a mere child that has no recollection of our past.

"You're finally awake." Joseph said dryly. I felt how exhausted he was from driving this odd machine, but that doesn't explain how we got into it.

The last thing I remember is using my power to seal off the house and heat the rooms for a night of rest. So then how did I end up in this machine that is called a truck?

I slowly became aware of a strong sensation in my magic, said sensation becoming stronger as we travel further down the unforgiving road that is covered in snow. I force my eyes open again, and the world around me seems to be slowing down as I feel the connection grow stronger by the minute.

There was no doubt of this magic I am feeling.

"We're getting closer to my Celestia and Joshua. But we're still so far away." I tell Joseph, my throat aching from emotions.

I needed to know that my sister is alright. I needed to be sure that she and Joshua are unharmed. I may not know that human as well as my sister does, but I do know that he has an inner light in his soul, and a kindness that makes sister happy and loved. And if anything is to happen to him, Celestia would be devastated by it.

Nevertheless, they have to be alright, they need to be alright for me, for the others...for the foals.

I peer to the right, sensing the connection direct me that way. But I trust Joseph to guide me to my sister. He does share the spell with me.

"Joseph, how did we end in this-"

"I found the keys in one of Josh's pants." he interrupted. I have always hated how he interrupts me. "The oil needed to be changed, but that didn't take long. Right now we're following the signal from Josh's truck."

"Signal?" I questioned.

Suddenly, he pulls out a small device with a pulsing dot on it. Green and black is all I see on the device as he clicks a button, and then it reveals two dots, but one of them is in the middle.

"Seems that Josh's grandfather was more than just in the military." he said seriously, although given through his exhaustion is telling me. "And I found something else in Josh's house before putting you and the kids in the truck."

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "Something else?"

He pulled a yellow folder from his lap and handed it to me. I had no idea how to respond to this when it unfolded in my magic. I freely read over the documents and targeted very serious details while the foals adjusted their resting places on my body. To my dismay however, the details that mean anything about Josh were actually pointing to a different person that is taken in this picture.

A woman from what I can see, but who is the infant in her arms?

"What does this have to do with Joshua and Celestia?" I asked suspiciously.

"I found that hidden under Josh's gun safe, pressed between the bottom and to a bolted plate." Joseph answered. "But take a look at the date on the note, and look at who signed it."

I did as he said. And to my confusion, I found it written in a cursive handwriting that is almost perfect. But something was wrong with it, something I had to re-read three times before taking this information into full grasp.

January 12, 1989

Father, if that is what you still go by.

By the time you read this, I will have been murdered by the man that started all of my problems. I know you disapprove of my choice because it is a coward's tactic, but I simply have too much on the line and too many enemies coming after me. Know that I love you and will never forget about you or mother.

Also, I have left you with the care of my son so that he remains safe from what is happening. I know you are too old to take care of a child, but you and mother are the only ones that keep him safe. I have no one else to turn to and no one else to trust. The Mafia are well on my track and I cannot risk my son falling into his father's hands.

Joshua does not need to become like his father, not like The Mafia. So I beg of you to raise him into a fine man that will live his life without the enemies of his mother coming after him.

And father, please, don't train him to be like me. I don't want Joshua becoming a killer.

The government has already given you an amount of eighty-million at the request that I work for them one last time. See, it pays off to be a mercenary.

I wish it wasn't my last mission, but I know that Richard will stop at nothing to kill me for taking our son away.

Thank you, Mother and Father, and if Joshua discovers who I am, then please tell him how much I love him and that I am doing this to protect him.

With Love: Meirth

I closed the letter and placed it back into the folder before handing it to Joseph. I was still confused by the letter and why Joshua's mother would go to such extremes to protect him.

Perhaps there is more to this family of Joshua's than we know.

"Josh has a letter from his father, and that letter was written a year after this was done." Joseph tells me. I gasp into my human hand as he accelerates the truck. I was realizing where this was going, and it made me more afraid for him and my sister than ever before.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"He showed me it when we were still friends." he answered seriously.

I batted my gaze in fear of what presumes in my mind. "So does that mean-"

"Yes it does." Joseph stated, his hands tightening on the wheel. "Josh's mother was a mercenary, but was murdered by his father, Richard. And if I'm thinking this correctly, Josh is the son of a kingpin that is looking for him."

"But the letter you say he has is-"

"Luna, don't you get it!?" Joseph yelled angrily, startling the foals. I have never seen him so angry. "The letter is a lie. Josh and Celestia are heading into a fucking trap!"

To Be Continued...