Dead Silent

by not plu

Rating: teen
Tags: Fluttershy, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Rainbow Dash
Length: 971

On a night made hazy by copious mugs of cider, Fluttershy remembers the words she hates to hear.

It's acceptable for fillies to have imaginary friends.
But ponies grow tired of your stories as you grow older.
Fluttershy wishes she was lying.

Story idea by my friend Madison.
Thanks to Noble Thought

Published 2014-09-22 14:30:04 UTC
Last updated 2014-09-22 14:30:04 UTC

The Sixth One

“Yeah, like what?”

In the dim candlelight of the ancient Apple barn, even through the haze of too much cider, Twilight could still recognize Rainbow’s infamous thinking face. It didn’t happen often.

Twilight set her mug down as the room went silent.

Waiting.

Finally, the sage known as Rainbow Dash opened her mouth to speak. Six ears pricked up, eager to hear her words of wisdom.

“I dunno, like... I did some pretty stupid stuff as a filly.”

Applejack rolled her eyes and took another swig of cider.

“Don’t look at me like that, Jackie. Fluttershy can attest to all the dumb things I did.”

Everyone looked at Fluttershy, who immediately cast her gaze downwards.

“Uh, well... we all do silly things when we’re foals, don’t we? It’s not like we know any better...”

“I guess.” Dash conceded, her voice flat.

“Well yeah. I mean, Apple Bloom still thinks foals come from shootin’ stars and all that.”

Twilight took another sip of cider.

“I was such a know-it-all as a filly.” She said quietly, staring down into the amber liquid.

“You still are, egghead.”

Dash chuckled at her own wittiness, but if the light in the barn had been better, she could’ve seen how intensely Twilight was blushing.

“Fluttershy, you probably don’t have any embarrassing moments like that, do you? Dash says you barely talked as a foal.” Twilight was all too eager to steer the conversation away from her.

“Yeah, but she had all these imaginary friends.” Dash replied for the mare.

Fluttershy shot her a half-stare, but Dash didn’t make eye contact.

“They weren’t imaginary. They’re real.”

She spoke with a fierceness they hadn’t seen in her in a long time.

The room went quiet again as all three stared at the yellow mare for a moment.

“Um, okay then... anyway.”

The subject was changed again, but Fluttershy didn’t pay attention. Instead, the barn and its occupants faded away as she slipped into a memory.

Fluttershy stood, her neck crained upwards, watching Rainbow Dash do loop-de-loops over and over again.

It was a perfectly beautiful summer day, the sun warm but not uncomfortably so, not a cloud in the sky, yet Fluttershy couldn’t stop shivering.

“Come on, you know you want to come up here!”

Fluttershy shook her head violently.

“Why are you so afraid of heights, Fluttershy?”

It was a variation on a question she was asked almost daily. Most of the time, she shrugged and didn’t reply. But she trusted Rainbow Dash, didn’t she?

“Well, because when Bubbleheart was-”

Rainbow stopped flying, mid loop, and hovered, her hooves on her hips.

“Fluttershy, for the last time, these ‘friends’ of yours do not exist.”

“But they are real, Dash. I know they are.”

“Okay, yeah sure. Whatever.” She paused for a moment. “I didn't come here for stupid filly talk.”

Before she could say goodbye, Dash turned around and flew off, leaving Fluttershy alone.

Well, not truly alone.

Slowly, directly in Fluttershy’s line of sight, a figure started to materialize.

No, not just a figure. She knew exactly what- and who it was. A pony, just a pony.

Fluttershy watched in silence until the shape was definite. A translucent, grey-ish pony, but a pony none the less.

“Are we alone now, Shy?”

The pony sounded like she was speaking through a bad phone connection or whispering as loud as possible, but it was a sound Fluttershy had grown used to.

She nodded.

“Why... don’t they believe you?”

“Because they can’t see you like I can.” She said quietly.

“Fluttershy... can you make the pain go away?”

She involuntarily shivered.

“No. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

It didn’t stop with that. It never did. The voices, they followed her everywhere. Interrupted her trains of thought. Stared deep into her soul with their cold eyes. Tried to pull her down when she attempted to fly. Distracted her from any hope she had of being a normal pony.

And she couldn’t do anything about it.

Why did they always have to say the same thing? Make the same request? Their stories would pour directly into her brain, vivid stories filled with blood and fear and things worse than anypony could dream up. All pleading.

And then, the knocking started again...

They all told me they loved me, but I knew the truth...

I had never known what it tasted like before that...

Every breath had me wishing it could all be over...

Everyone knew I would be gone any moment...

I thought it would be peaceful, just like falling asleep...

He doesn’t regret any of it...

As if that could convince her.

And she had tried. Oh Celestia, how she had tried.

But she couldn’t reach them.

And so the stories kept coming and coming and never stopping, a stream of consciousness that flowed like the river Styx...

“Fluttershy. Earth to Fluttershy!”

“I thought one more drink couldn’t hurt...”

“Do you think she’s okay? She looks pretty zoned out.”

“If I had only turned around, I would’ve seen it...”

“Nah, she’s fine. She does this all the time. It’s probably just the cider.”

“Cows are a lot stronger and faster than you’d think...”

“Fluttershy... hey, Fluttershy.”

She snapped to consciousness to see Twilight standing over her, her purple form slightly blurry and shaking. Or maybe it was just Fluttershy who was shaking. She couldn’t tell.

“Wh-what?”

“You okay?”

Fluttershy paused, trying to think of what to say, trying to push the voices out enough to make a thought of her own. She knew what to say. She had done this before. Yet...

“Fluttershy! Are you okay?”

“No. I'm not.”

And then, for the third time that night but the first time, truly, inside Fluttershy’s mind, everything was quiet. Perfectly, peacefully quiet.

Agony would be an understatement.