Tears Of A Beggar

As Viv flew, the sights of the city posed a beautiful backdrop

for his flight. If Picker hadn't been injured, this entire

experience would have been glorious. Learning to fly in an

instance, a near storybook turnout. But even if it was wonderful,

Pickers sorrow still existed. As long as it stayed, Viv could

feel little to no glory. He decide after getting Picker back

home, he'd tell him all about flying. In a minute or two, Viv had

arrived at the hospital. The bright lights stung his eyes as he

entered. The smell reminding him of the painful stay he'd had

years prior. The mare at the front desk didn't seem to notice his

entrance, reading a book titled "Mannequins". Viv stepped towards

the desk and took a nervous glance to a nurse glaring towards him

from across the room. "Miss, Uhm miss," The mare slowly lowered

her book, raising an eyebrow, "Hey sweety, visiting hours are

over." Viv's expression slumped into a frown, Over? How could it

end here, after all he'd gone through. "I'll have to ask you to

leave now, this isn't a place to stay." She notioned for a guard

to escort him out. This was it, Viv imagined Picker, alone, sick,

and scared. Just like him. "No!" He yelled, the guard approaching

slowly. Viv didn't plan to go lightly, he would fight for Picker

if he had to. A Stallion wearing a white coat and glasses entered

the room. "What is the meaning of thi-" He cut himself off,

gazing towards Viv. His expression was that of shock, as it

almost immedietly turned to a look of sadnes. "Viv,are you, here

to see Picker?" How did he know Viv's name? Was he the friend

Picker had mentioned in his note? "Yes, can you tale me to him?"

The doctor glanced over towards the front desk, obviously

worried. "It's fine nurse, don't sign him in as a visitor though,

I don't want to limit his stay." The doctor notioned for Viv to

follow him, and so he did. The hospital was bright, even at

night, the light from the corridors illuminated the terrace with

a washing yellow. Dispelling the darkness from every inch, it was

seen by some as a meaning of hope, but to Viv, it was an eerie

feeling. Like that between life and death, purgatory. It was the

doctors though, not gods, that would decide whom would pass, and

who would stay. The doctor led him to a room down one of the

passages, the light inside was dimmed for sleeping patients.

"Before you go in Viv, I have to warn you, Picker is very sick,"

Viv had assumed this before the doctor had even mentioned it. "I

know, is he going to get better?" The doctor looked down, Viv

could see the sadness creep from his face like a plague. "You'd

better ask him for yourself," He opened the door and crept in. It

wasn't a single room, rooms such as that were reserved for the pony's that paid for the hospital. The rows of curtains draped

over the beds, giving the occupants their needed privacy. Viv took notice to one bed whose curtains did not hide their

occupant, it was Picker. "Picker!" Viv exclaimed, running to Picker and embracing him in a large hug, which was greatly

returned. "Hey Viv, how you doin little guy?" Viv gave him a triumphent grin, "I'm not little anymore, I learned how to fly!"

Picker chuckled and then let out onto a coughing fit. "Thats great, I was worried about'chya, I didn't like leaving bu-" He was

interrupted by a cough. "Picker, what's wrong? You look pale?" Picker closed his eyes, a small smile embed across his face.

"Viv, I've gotta tell ya somthin,

there's this infection in my lungs, ya see." Viv's eyes widened,

he'd read a medical book not to long ago, and was aware of the

harm of a lung infection. "Well, you're going to be alright, your

lungs are going to heal, right?" Pickers smile never faded, it

remained an omen to his kindness. "Viv, the doctors said i'm not

gonna have long, i-i'm not gonna be along too much more little

buddy," Viv could feel the tears roll out from inside him. Why,

why it be him, of all ponys, why should it be the nicest, most

kind of them all. Quickly adding itself to Viv's mixed emotions,

was anger. Why was it always him who had to be alone? Why did he

have to suffer, why couldn't he live happily for once. Picker

noticed Viv beginning to cry, "Viv, death is as natural as life,

it can't be avoided, and I've lived a long life," Viv began to

weep, his tears staining the white sheets of Pickers bed. "I want

to tell you somethin Viv..." Pickers voice was soft now, that

scared Viv. "I always grew up on the streets, my parents didn't

want me, they tossed me out at an early age. I used to live in an

orphanage. But I hated it there, so, I ran." Viv had settled down

a bit to listen, his gasps still showing he was close to breaking

down. "I lived on the streets for a long while, I always have,

that's how I got the Dumpster as a cutie mark," He pointed a

shaking hoof towards his thigh. "I remember how hard it was, bein

a kid, all alone in a world O' filth. But I had to learn the way

things worked by myself, and you bet it took time," He gave Viv a

grin, "Then, four months ago, I found you. I remember hearing the

crys, those same crys I once gave, Viv, I never woulda wanted any

of this for you. I wanted you to live with family, grow up happy.

If I had only one wish, one single wish, it'd be to let ya live

your life," A tear ran down Pickers face, his eyes plastered on

the opposite wall of the room. "I never wanted any O' this for ya

Viv, I wanted yo-" He was suddenly interrupted, "Picker, you're

my family, you cared for me, sheltered me, taught me how to live,

don't ever regret that!" Picker smiled, a laughing in that same

weak voice. "I love ya Viv..." His voice trailed off, his eyes

closed. "Picker? PICKER?!" Viv shook his arm violently, before

stopping. He hung his head down, tears dripping. He'd lost

control again, he lost control, but standing there, next to

Picker, he'd lost a father.