Room 219

Trigger warning: this chapter gets a bit dark. Please read at your own level of comfort.

"Your final report will be on Pre-Celestian civilizations, and it will be a co-op effort."

Dust shut his eyes and sighed as the history professor looked at the class over the rim of his glasses.

"You'll have the entirety of the last two weeks plus finals week to work, but you all need to pick partners in the near future. Come to class first thing next week with your partner's name. Anypony who hasn't found a partner by then will be assigned. Dismissed!"

All around the room, ponies began to seek each other out, meeting gazes and hoof motions indicating interest in pairing off as everypony headed for the hallway. Dust desperately wished for his hoodie, but he hadn't worn it since the bruises had faded. The weather had just been too hot to allow, and flying to class meant he had to avoid fewer ponies anyway. Instead, he simply slouched in his seat, hiding behind his mane fringe as best he could, knowing he was the consolation prize that nopony in the class wanted to—

"Hey!"

Dust started, but didn't look up.

"Yeah, you, buddy. Dust Cloud, right?"

Across the table, a pony swung a chair around and dropped into it, staring at him. Dust stared back, confused. It was a pegasus mare. A light grey pegasus mare with the most incredibly pink mane ever, aside from the single broad stripe of steel blue in the middle. And she was talking to him. Intentionally. And she even seemed happy about it.

"Wanna partner up?"

Dust looked over his shoulder to buy a moment. "Really?"

"Yeah. There's nopony behind you to talk to, either, I checked already."

Her grin was vibrant, even compared to her very, very violet eyes. "Um, yeah, I guess so," Dust said slowly, trying to catch up with the conversation.

The smile almost faltered for a moment. "Did you have somepony else in mind? I won't be offended or anything."

"What? No! No, definitely not. I'm just... surprised, is all."

She laughed. "Hey, you're smart. I remember that from last semester. I think we'll be a good team."

Dust felt a lopsided grin fight its way onto his face. "Heh. Yeah, maybe..."

She blew her twin-toned mane out of her face and reached out, slugging him lightly on the shoulder with a hoof. "Definitely. I'm Tinker. I gotta run for an evening lab, but I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Yeah..."

"Sweet. Later, dude!"

Dust remained seated as she slid across the first row of tables and trotted out the door, trying to figure out what had just happened. He was still smiling after she left.

"Is it just me, or has it been really easy to get a booth lately?"

Saxus rolled his eyes as he sat and laid his tray on the table. "Really, Breeze?"

"Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood a bit."

"Celestia's mane, I can't take you anywhere."

Dust snorted in amusement, picking absently at his own meal. "Ponies clear out when I show up. It's great at the registrar's office, but not so good for conversation."

Breeze slouched in the padded booth seat. "This has gotta be a fluke, though, right? Surely everypony doesn't know. I can't believe that everypony would even care that much!"

"Oh, it's pretty consistent," Dust replied. "Maybe about half of the ponies around me know what I do, and that's enough. Word spread through my classes pretty quickly, but I bet not many ponies outside of that really know who I am personally, just by reputation." He looked out over the cafeteria, noticing more than one pony looking away quickly as he swept his gaze over them. "It hardly matters. Enough know, and if they don't, all they need to do is visit. My door is basically just a vulgar whiteboard by this point."

"This is getting stupidly out of hoof," Saxus said, bristling. "Nopony deserves this kind of treatment."

"Oh, there's definitely one out there..." Breeze muttered darkly, pointedly spearing a cherry tomato with a knife.

"I mean, it's not completely awful," Dust said with a shrug. There's a mare in my Equestrian History class who actually picked me as her partner for our final project. Like, on purpose. Before everypony else was taken."

Saxus frowned. "Is she, um... Like, is she, uh..."

"Just say it, dude. It's okay."

"Do you think she's fishing for a discount or something?" Breeze interjected for his roommate.

"Um, yeah, that," Saxus agreed, looking down at his tray.

Dust thought for a moment. "I don't think so. I know that look by now, and I didn't see it. She even knew my name, and not just 'Copper'. I think she legitimately has no idea what I do. That seems pretty weird by itself, though. You'd think that she'd have heard by now, because I know she was in one of my classes last semester. I'd recognize that mane of hers anywhere. Never actually talked to her before, though."

"Isfh fee koot?"

Both Saxus and Dust stared at Breeze, who hastily put a hoof to his mouth and swallowed his large mouthful of salad. "Sorry," he said, "is she cute?"

Dust rolled his eyes, but couldn't dismiss the question. "I—" he stalled, "I don't know..."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I'm not sure," Dust replied, genuinely surprised. "It's been so long since I've actually thought about being attracted to anypony else I kinda stopped looking at them like that. It's like, if they have bits, then I'm attracted to them, you know?"

Saxus frowned. "So you've lost the ability to appreciate a mare because you're out of practice?"

"Kinda pathetic, huh?"

Breeze waved a hoof dismissively. "Oh, we can fix that. You just need time and practice."

Dust looked down again, his face dark. "I dunno. I've been thinking a lot that maybe this whole 'selling myself' thing has ruined me. Like, can I actually have a real relationship anymore?"

"Dude, you're still you," Saxus said. "You're good at caring; I'm sure you'll find a good mare someday."

"Or stallion!" Breeze piped in as Saxus gave him a meaningful look. "Hey, I'm just saying; after all this time, we don't know."

Dust rolled his eyes again. "Yeah, but what're they gonna get? A worn-out pegasus who only knows how to rut her—or him, thank you, Breeze—but is completely emotionally dead?" Dust shoved his tray away with a growl. "Paahh, I really don't want to think about this anymore."

"Dust, please tell me you're eating more than that."

"Can't. I'll throw up if I eat anything more."

Breeze looked over at his roommate. "Dude, we weren't gonna say anything, but you're losing weight, fast. Too fast."

Saxus nodded solemnly. "We couldn't see your ribs at midterms, but we sure can now."

"Well, I'm trying," Dust moaned. "I seriously can't eat anything more than that. I snack here and there throughout the day, but if I get too much in my stomach it just comes back up later with interest."

Dust looked up, and over Breeze's shoulder he saw a pack of ponies walk into the dining hall. In the middle was High Society. Dust paled considerably and shuffled out of the booth as quickly as he could, scooping up his tray.

"Guys, I'll talk to you later. I'm sorry, I just—I've got stuff to do."

"Dust?"

"What the hay..."

Without even waiting to hear his friends' confused replies, Dust dashed off, dropping his tray in the receiving line. He was out the door and into the darkening sky as quickly as possible.

Dust touched down on the second-floor landing of his dorm and walked slowly back towards his room. His insides were a mess as his stomach was churning in sympathy with the turmoil inside his head. Just the sight of that pony...

As he neared, an earth pony came out from another room, shut and locked the door behind himself, and gave Dust a disgusted glare. "What's up, Dust?" he spat. "Sucked any good dicks lately?"

Without even thinking about it, something inside Dust responded. He turned to the other pony, mock surprise on his face. "Oh, wow, my bad. I hadn't even thought about how you can't get a mare to talk to you, and I've bedded, like, six this semester! Dude, that's really inconsiderate of me. How about I share the next one with you after I've satisfied her? Though it's hardly my fault if you have to pay her for the pleasure."

The earth pony rocked back, stunned at the riposte. "Whatever. You won't be here for long. It's only a matter of time before your ass is run out of here."

Dust flicked a wing contemptuously at the pony as he turned and walked off. As soon as he was inside, he shut the door and slumped backwards against it, wrapping his wings around his body protectively.

He's right, you know.

Dust let out an exasperated sigh. "What a great mind I have," he said to the empty room. "It takes over and makes me confident in front of ponies who either hate me or want to fuck me—or both—but turns right around and makes me feel like shit immediately after."

Don't blame me, his mind protested evenly. Everypony on campus seems to know your dirty little secrets.

"Not—not all of them," he muttered. "Not the ones that matter."

So what if they DID know you got raped? Do you think anypony would care? Do you expect sympathy for it? Do you expect ponies to be proud of you for making Footlight happy?

"I don't expect anything."

You expected that you could get away with prostituting yourself without consequences.

"No, no, no, no, no..." Dust muttered, banging his head lightly on the wall, trying to drive the traitorous voices from his mind. "I need something else to focus on. Something..."

Dust looked around the room. His books were still piled on the desk, but why bother studying now when he hadn't been doing so for the last month? His bed looked inviting, but he wasn't tired and the last thing he needed was more quiet time for his mind to mess with him. He turned back and saw himself reflected in the mirror hanging behind the door. Saxus and Breeze were right: he was looking much smaller than usual these days. His wings seemed almost overlarge on his body now. If his mane were still full it would look almost comical on him...

He reached up with a hoof to flick at his mane. The majority of his mane was cut very short, and it stuck up from his head and neck at spiky angles, but there was a large swath of his bangs swept off to the left side of his face. When he first got it cut it was around the level of his eyebrow and accentuated his eyes, but now it had grown to halfway down his cheek and was used primarily for hiding behind. It was starting to look pretty ragged by any measure. Even the hoof he held up to examine was looking a little worse for the course of time. The fetlock was growing out over his hoof, and it was starting to look sloppy.

Okay, well, I guess I could give that a bit of a trim. That's something to do. Who knows, maybe taking care of myself will make me feel a little better.

Dust grabbed his bath kit out of the dresser and trotted off towards the restroom. Mercifully, it was empty, everypony else being out enjoying the first evening of the weekend. He loosed the catch on the kit and pulled out a straight razor. Most ponies used shears, sure, but with his new mane style, Dust appreciated a razor a little more. Instead of trimming off his mane with a straight, hard line, it left a slightly ragged edge that looked more natural. It took a little more care and time, but the result was well worth it.

Sticking his tongue out the opposite side of his mouth in concentration, Dust held his mane still with one hoof and began to carefully swipe the blade across his bangs. Long strands of hair started to fall to the sink and countertop as he worked the freshly-sharpened razor down the left side of his head.

I bet those stallions really appreciate the care you take. They seem to like 'em small and cute.

Dust stopped, shaking his head and letting out a deep breath before returning to his task.

You don't even care about your classes anymore, but you care about how you look? Doesn't that seem backwards for college, of all places?

Scowling, Dust focused on his mane, on keeping the edge straight as his hoof shook ever-so-slightly.

Hey, you can see your eye again! Shame it's too warm for a hood anymore. You'll have to find a new way to hide now.

Dust growled, making his last stroke with more force than he needed to, the blade missing the base of his ear by the barest of margins. He stared down at the scattered clumps of olive hair, trying to focus, trying to clear his mind. Fetlocks, focus. I need to... focus.

Trimming around hooves was tricky, but Dust was used to it. He wasn't one of those ponies who liked to let his hair grow where it willed. He leaned on the countertop over the sink with his right hoof, transferring the razor to his left. Slowly and methodically, he began to run the blade upwards along the curve of his hoof, catching the overlong fur. Over and over, excess fur fell, a few hairs at a time.

Why did you even bother paying off this semester anyway? You should have just saved the bits. Fifteen hundred bits is a lot of money; you could do just about anything you wanted with that.

"I know why I'm here," Dust muttered, his jaw clenched.

If you think you're gonna graduate, you're crazy. Well, crazier than talking to yourself.

The razor flicked slightly faster.

"You think I can't do it? You think I'm not up to the challenge?"

Please, you're falling apart. You went from straight A's to hanging on to a B average by your teeth in one semester.

The razor flashed as Dust cleared the last of the rogue fur on his hoof, leaving it clean and presentable. He swapped position to do his left hoof, only barely fumbling the razor as he switched hooves. "I can bring it back. Just watch me."

As if that even mattered. You couldn't go a single semester keeping your income secret. There's no way the school's gonna let you walk. It's pretty hard to do from a jail cell, anyway.

Dust's hoof shook, the fur around his hoof falling away in more ragged lengths. "Shut up," he muttered.

Think you'll be able to get a job doing something nice next year, or are you going to stick to tail-raising in an alley? I mean, go with what you're good at, right?

"Shut up," Dust said quietly, working even more quickly. He could feel tears starting to well as his mind berated him, watering the edges of his vision.

Fifteen hundred bits could have set you up really well. Could probably open your own shop on that. Might have not even needed the alley. Shit, without having to pay tuition, you'll be rich in no time, I bet.

"Shut up!" he demanded out loud, wincing as the blade went askew, nicking his skin. Dust shut his eyes, not trusting himself to finish the job without breaking down. He waited for the voices to return. For several minutes, he stood, shaking lightly.

Dust opened his eyes and looked up. His mane was just right, but the effect was utterly ruined by everything else. His ears were flat and lifeless, his eyes red and teary, his mouth drawn into a frown of utter hopelessness. Dust was struck by just how often he'd seen that same face in the mirror lately. "I wish it had all never happened. I just want to go back..."

There is no back now.

He sighed. "I know." With nothing else for it, he picked the blade back up to finish his task.

Boy, I hope you've got a good story to tell your mom when you can't come back—

"No! Shut up, shut up!" Dust practically screamed, bringing the razor down forcefully as the voice in his head seemed to shatter and silence.

A clump of red fur fell into the sink.

"Shut up, shut up, I'm not—I not—I can't..." Dust muttered, tears falling from his eyes to the porcelain.

A drop of red fell into the sink as well.

A second drop fell, matting the fur below. Then a third. Then more.

Dust dropped the red-streaked razor into the sink, not caring in the least what it would do to the edge. He stared at his hoof in shock.

I didn't even feel it...

Blood was streaming over his hoof to the sink below. In his wrist, Dust had left a large, dangerously gaping slash. He stared numbly at the wound, transfixed by the red blood and pink flesh, unable to comprehend what had just happened—what his unconscious mind had just made him do.

Did I seriously just do that? Oh dear Harmony, I...

Dust lunged out with his good hoof, grabbing a thick wad of paper towels from the rack on the wall.

I don't want to die...

He mashed them against his wrist and slumped to the floor as the shock began to lose the battle against the encroaching pain. Dust clutched his foreleg against his chest, his stomach turning even more than before. Worse than all of it, though, was the pain in his mind leaving him shaking violently as he was wracked with fear, anger, sorrow, and regret.

...do I?

Dust hobbled to the door on three hooves and pounded desperately on the surface, wanting to call out but unable to make a sound. The portal swung open quickly, revealing Saxus, his expression confused. He stared at Dust. He saw his face, glanced at the hoof the pegasus was holding up protectively, and saw the makeshift compress of paper towels and tape covering the wrist. The amount of blood on the wrap left little doubt what had caused it.

Dust opened his mouth, but couldn't figure out what to say. There just wasn't time to say it all.

The voices in my head wouldn't stop.

I think I might have tried to kill myself.

I was wrong. About everything.

I don't deserve you as friends.

I'm so sorry.

Dust's jaw trembled.

"I—I need help," he said weakly.

Saxus didn't say anything. He simply pulled Dust inside the room, quickly checked his wound to see if it was stable, and pulled the small, broken pegasus into the fiercest embrace he'd ever felt.