Decapitating Harmony

CHAPTER 5 – Lost and Lust

Envoy stood in place outside the hospital where Fluttershy marched to the entrance with bravery just to lower her head and sulk away in tearful failure again and again. Envoy wasn't willing to put kilometers on her hooves following the yellow pegasus from the breezeway to the dirt path repeatedly. She switched from consoling Fluttershy and offering words of encouragement to such an extent that her throat had become hoarse.

Fluttershy seated herself in the dirt dropping her head into her hooves and hiding behind her long pink mane. She was in another fit of crying which Envoy felt compelled to attempt to comfort; however, the gray unicorn was done with words because there was absolutely nothing more to say. She felt that being repetitive couldn't be helpful so she patted Fluttershy on the shoulder mutely conveying her condolences in understanding of the circumstance.

Fluttershy wiped her nose and peered at Envoy from behind her mane, "You've seen her already?"

Envoy nodded.

"Did it look bad? I mean, does it look like it hurt a lot? You know... for a long time?" The pegasus' face was soaked with tears.

Envoy's gaze shifted to the ground as she nodded.

They had been on the front step of the hospital for over an hour, and Fluttershy was beginning to wear on Envoy's patience. Envoy was trying the best she could to be supportive in the process and used much effort in hiding her frustration. ‘That would be too mean to get mad at her for being sad.’ Envoy thought.

"Is she...?" Fluttershy paused to brush the cascade of moisture from her cheeks. "Is she, um... disfigured?"

Envoy shook her head, "She isn't 'disfigured' per se, but she won't look the same."

Fluttershy closed her eyes cursing the second she had agreed to see Twilight, "Why? Why do I have to see her?"

"Chiefly because the items found in the autopsy are kept with her body." Envoy said.

"Items?" Fluttershy brushed her hair away from her face.

"Yes. Rocks." The unicorn gestured dispassionately, "They found them in her throat and we're hoping they can be identified because we don't know why they're significant."

Fluttershy nodded with the look of determination that Envoy had now seen at least a hundred times. She watched Fluttershy stomp her way to the door in certainty and was surprised when the pegasus actually went through the doors. She galloped into the hospital after Fluttershy and fell into the purposeful step.

They met with Nurse Redheart who offered to lead them to the morgue set in the right wall at the end of the center passageway marked as the Intensive Care Unit, but Fluttershy reneged once again, “I think I’m going to see Spike first.”

Envoy dipped her head understanding Fluttershy’s apprehension.

They were let into Spike’s room in the left side of the ICU hall where he lay staring out the window. He snapped a glance at the entering ponies as if nopony had entered the room during his stay.

“Hey, Fluttershy.” The purple dragon greeted weakly wincing as he adjusted in the bed.

The intravenous tubes tucked under his scales were taped to his forearms leading to pumps that whirred and clicked sounding quiet alarms indicating their actions. The rose colored accents of the drapery matched the pair of seats which represented the scheme of the ICU.

“Spike, you’re awake! I mean, you’ve been awake, but you’re talking!” She strode to his bedside with a wide smile. “I was beginning to think you’d never talk again!”

He smirked meekly with pain lurking behind his joyful eyes, “They told me that I’m going to be alright.”

“I would hug you, but you have a lot of tubes around.” She said giving him a virtual air embrace.

His scales were in full color and his eyes were once again bright with the youthful readiness to take in the beauty of the world. Fluttershy almost couldn't tell that he was still recovering except for the anguished expression tugging at the corners of his mouth accompanying each word.

Spike studied Envoy with uncertain familiarity, “Hello. I’m Spike. Who are you?”

Envoy stepped forward, “I’m Majesty Envoy. I’m an investigator.”

Confusion furrowed his brow while he pursed his lips in thought, “Am I in trouble?”

The gray unicorn smiled in assurance shaking her head.

"Where's everypony else?" He asked Fluttershy.

"They're helping Envoy right now. They will be so glad to hear from you when they're done. It will be so nice for everypony to have some good news after these last few days." Fluttershy empathetically smiled at the ailment hindering his movements.

"What happened?" Spike became concerned.

Fluttershy was quickly overwhelmed by dread hurriedly struggling to avoid being the pony that had to break the news to him. Anxiety overcame her delight of the dragon being conscious while tears brimmed and distress faded into her disposition.

"We were all here. Did you not hear us talking?" Fluttershy's voice quivered.

"Well, I could hear that you were talking, but I couldn't hear you, if that makes any sense." He explained settling deeper into anxiety reacting to Fluttershy's worried expression. He glanced between the investigator and Fluttershy, "Did something bad happen? Is that why you're here?"

Envoy began, “Over the last few days, we found out that somepony injected you with a poison…”

Fluttershy held up a hoof, “Stop, please. Let me…”

Spike tried to sit up in surprise, "Poison...?" He stopped quickly restrained with the discomfort of movement.

“Are you okay?” Fluttershy asked holding a hoof over his claw softly.

He sighed in exasperation, “They can’t give me any more pain medications.” He laid his head back breathing slowly trying to alleviate the anguish in his joints, “They said they think it’ll drop my blood pressure too much.”

Fluttershy's glassy eyes slowly tracked across the room to Envoy, "Can you give us a minute?"

The unicorn nodded and left without a word.

Observing Fluttershy's tears falling onto the hospital blanket, Spike took a deep breath in anticipation of the pain and leaned forward grunting through the incredibly sharp stabbing in his muscles to cup a comforting claw on Fluttershy's cheek. He groaned softly trying to keep himself up while wiping a thumb under her eye clearing the way for more tears to make their way down her chin.

"What's going on, Fluttershy?" He asked softly managing a crooked smile.

She wrapped her forelegs around his back and laid him down slowly before involuntarily burying her face in his chest sobbing uncontrollably into the warm scales. He worked a claw under her long mane and stroked the back of her neck while patting her back with his other.

"Talk to me. What's happened?" He said gently.

Fluttershy brought her head up with her eyes clenched unable to speak to him directly, "Twilight..." She stopped from pain gripping her vocal chords shut.

His eyes wet with sympathy, "Of all the ponies," He smiled, "I thought she'd be the first pony I'd see, but you're nice too."

Fluttershy chuckled through her tears with emotions flooding in a confusing disarray of the utmost happiness for the dragon and pure excruciation to the situation.

"Spike." She shook her head, "She's..."

The purple dragon felt like he was going to fall off the bed awaiting explanation for Fluttershy's sadness when suddenly an awful thought crept into his mind.

"Where is she?" He felt his fluids drain into the far recesses of his body causing his face to tingle and his blood to run cold.

"She's here." Fluttershy cried. "At the end of the hall."

"What room is she in?" He said pulling the blanket off of himself and sitting up.

"Spike, you don't understand. The end of the hall is the morgue." Her voice came out shrill muscling to form each shaky word.

"The m..." He collapsed onto the bed staring into the ceiling. "She's dead?"

Fluttershy cried harder with her chest tightening in powerfully painful sobs. She gave up on controlling herself unyielding to the belief that each heave was bringing her ribs closer to being crushed under the contractions of her own muscles.

Spike's eyes leaked down the sides of his face with the moisture being sucked into the fabric of the pillow case. "How?" He squeaked to Fluttershy.

She took several sharp breaths trying to control her weeping long enough to say anything. "She was murdered!" She sobbed.

"By who?!" Spike barked.

"Nopony knows." She was panting in emotional exhaustion.

Panic and disbelief darted his eyes while a machine beeped incessantly alerting the medical staff to his elevated heart rate. His face was pinched in a tight knot as pressure built in his head like the unbearable sorrow was going to explode his skull. He shook his head vehemently attempting to hold in the onslaught of anger, pain, and loss, but he suddenly burst into a violent wail falling deeper into the bedding.

Fluttershy, hearing the chillingly woeful cries of the little dragon, became motionless watching him writhe in agony setting within her a firm obligation to see Twilight and bring her justice. She leaned onto him giving him the warmest hug she could, and he clutched onto her as if he was going to fall to his death.

"We're going to catch them." Fluttershy whispered delicately.

She pulled away from him and left him sobbing into his palms. She left the room seeing Envoy standing in depression having heard their conversation. The yellow pegasus stared into Envoy's eyes with a purposeful demeanor, "I need to see my friend."

* * *

She walked paying little attention to the tear drops dotting the dirt path below her hooves as she intently made her way to Scroot's cabin to enter the knife into evidence. She was so affixed on thinking only of the destination to cloud the image of the deadly luggage in her saddle bag that she didn't hear Applejack galloping to her from behind.

"Rarity!" Applejack called.

Rarity stopped and looked back to the running earth pony and wiped the moisture from her cheeks. She sniffed the congestive mucus in her nose and swallowed without a moment's thought of how unladylike that was. She spotted Scroot limping far behind.

Applejack slowed showing concern on her face, "Are you okay?"

The white unicorn ignored Applejack's question avoiding the potential heartache of having to talk about the weapon, "Is he okay?"

"Oh, yeah, he just got himself a good whoopin' from Buck McGhiloucutty and Kicks McGhee." She chuckled lifting her rear hooves respectively explicating their names.

"You beat up the investigator?" Rarity raised a brow.

Applejack smiled polishing her fore-hoof on her chest, "It turned out to be a misunderstanding, but at least he knows now what ponies he's tusslin' with."

"Did you find anything out in the Everfree Forest?" Rarity queried.

"I believe,” Applejack started as Scroot caught up with them, "that the killer is a unicorn."

The two mares matched Scroot’s canter on his way back to the cabin.

"How do you know?" Rarity asked Applejack.

"She doesn't." Scroot interjected.

Rarity smiled at the investigator, "Are you sore in more ways than one, Scroot?"

"Look, honey. I can take an ass kicking in stride. You win some; you lose some." Scroot stated flatly. "I'm saying that what she found was circumstantial; not conclusive."

"So, it doesn't sting that a girl beat you up?" Rarity continued feeling light.

Scroot groaned completely lacking entertainment, "Girls can really fuck shit up, Rarity. In my line of work, I have seen many fellow officers under estimate a female suspect and get their asses handed right to them on a silver platter."

"Have you ever had your flank kicked by a girl before?" Rarity prodded further.

Scroot quietly trotted next to them for a moment before answering trying to hold true to the apology he gave Applejack, "No, Rarity. That was a first."

It dawned on Rarity that she was smiling and her feelings were bright. Given the circumstances, she managed to have a light moment in the shrouding darkness, but her realization wasn't good to her as guilt wrestled the smile from her face. It didn't feel right to be happy in the wake of her friend's death.

"Did you find anything in the house?" Scroot asked.

"Yes." She said simply.

Applejack and Scroot jogged silently awaiting elaboration, but was met with a discomforting mute expression.

"What did you find?" Applejack asked.

"I don't want to talk about it." Rarity looked ahead staring intently onward in a hopeless effort for them to change the subject.

"Rarity, we're a team now." Scroot explained, "We need to know what you've found however unpleasant it may be."

"I found… it." She said sinking into dismay. "It was in the floor underneath the bed."

Scroot bounced up the steps to the cabin and pushed open the front door holding it for the mares. Rarity hurried to the table and took off her bag tossing it carelessly onto the table.

"The thought of it makes me ill. Just look for yourself." She swallowed hard trying to keep down her emotion as well as her lunch.

"Rarity," Scroot began as he unclasped the fastener with his teeth, "Communication is the key in a team effort."

"I found it." She coughed as she lifted the knife from her saddlebag with her magic and averted her eyes.

Scroot looked over the knife floating in the incandescent magic grip nodding in approval. "This is good, Rarity." He said slowly. "This is very good."

Applejack stared into the blade like she was watching an oncoming train and preparing to be pulverized into a red mist. The blood had dried in chunks where bubbles were unable to escape the viscid material and bits of flesh had been interwoven into the matted fur grasped by the blood soaked handle. Her lip quivered as she finally took a breath and broke sight with the tool which delivered Twilight's demise.

Scroot squinted at the wood handle seeing through the blood noticing tiny dimples arranged in rectangular shapes near the top and bottom, "Wait a second, this could be big. Turn it over."

Rarity looked up to the ceiling with a queasy feeling furrowing her brow and curling her lips as she slowly spun the knife in the air with her magic.

The crescent shape stretching from the top of the handle to the blade thinning from the molars to the incisors and widening again showed a perfect imprint of the user's mandible.

"Those are teeth marks." Scroot said aloud.

Rarity looked at Scroot with surprise, "Does this exonerate Rainbow?"

"It may put the nail in the coffin," Scroot shook his head. "Not matching Dash is circumstantial, but if it does match, she's in trouble."

Applejack stomped a hoof, "That makes no sense! How can something be bad for Rainbow if it is true, but not good if it isn't?"

Scroot took a deep breath feeling like he was explaining basic facts to a foal, "Because if you can prove she was in contact with the murder weapon, it's bad for her. If you can't, then it doesn't mean anything. She could have used it, and not left these teeth marks."

Applejack rolled her eyes, "What does circumstantial mean to you?"

"Look, I'm not trying to be the bad guy here." Scroot explained, "I'm just telling you that the vines are explainable because she could have dropped Owlicious in from the canopy, and the teeth marks are explainable because not everypony that uses a knife bites the shit out of it."

Rarity's magic vanished and the knife clattered against the table, "What do we need to do to make this not 'circumstantial'?"

Scroot rubbed his face with a hoof in exhaustion. The ache in his stomach hadn't quite faded away and all of the questioning wasn't aiding his personal goal of being nicer to them. "Find a suspect and match them to the knife."

"How?" Applejack demanded.

"You're a detective, Applejack!" Scroot growled poising his hoof towards her. He clenched his teeth reeling back irritation before adding calmly, "You must detect."

Rarity gestured sensitively, "Scroot, we simply don't know where to start.”

Scroot let out a long slow breath, "There isn't a set of rules, Rarity. You don't have a formula for this kind of thing. You chase leads until you can't find anything else, and then you build a case on what you have."

The mares exchanged a quizzical look hoping to derive inspiration from one another, but both found nothing. Scroot grabbed the bind of a newspaper from the adjacent desk and started toward his 'other office'.

"I need to think." He said trying to keep his moist lips from the absorbent pages of the paper.

"Just give us somethin' to do, Scroot. We're tryin' to help." Applejack stated just as Scroot was closing the door.

"You have helped. You will continue to help. For right now, I need you both to leave me alone for at least 20 minutes so, in the midst of this chaos, I can grab me a shit, please!" Scroot pleaded in an almost desperate voice.

Rarity shifted on her hooves, "By all means, Scroot." She glanced briefly at Applejack, "We're not going to hinder you from pooping in peace." She said as eloquently as possible.

He dipped his head and said, "Thank you" as he closed the door.

* * *

The sled was pretty much a dead end. There was nothing that Pinkie could see that wasn't already noted in the report and she felt like she had been at it for hours. She thought, 'why couldn't she have gotten a more productive assignment?'

There was a copper identifier that had been scratched nearly unreadable except four letters, 'Tedd' and a few numbers, '012' on the outsides of the destructive etching. Pinkie surmised that whatever pony defaced the plate was hoping it couldn't be identified.

She wrote down the text and carried her note into the cabin hoping to find a directory. Rarity and Applejack were standing on either side of the table where the meanie had scolded them for being detectives. Although the flank chewing wasn't fun, Pinkie Pie had never felt haughtier than in that moment. "I got you in trouble. I got you in trouble!" She thought.

"Hey, fillies." Pinkie greeted as she closed the door behind her.

"Howdy, Pinkie." Applejack nodded, "You got any leads for us?"

"Maybe." The pink earth pony said plainly as she began her hunt for the directory. Luckily, the forty-fourth drawer she opened had a current one. Rarity followed behind with her magic and closed the file cabinets.

"What do you have?" Rarity asked.

"I don't know." Pinkie said placing the book on the table and flipping through cart rental and retail finding a promising advertisement for Teddy's Transportation in northern Apple Loosa. The logo on the page had a striking resemblance to the defaced plate on the sled. Pinkie Pie nodded mutely citing an "A-ha!" to her friends.

"What do you got, Pinkie?" Applejack leaned in as if closing the distance would aid Pinkie’s conveyance.

Pinkie looked up slowly raising a brow perching on the precipice of her find, "I don't know." She said profoundly.

Rarity dropped her shoulders and let out her breath feeling less than exhilarated by Pinkie's detective genius.

Applejack rolled her eyes meeting Rarity's gaze, "So, what do we do, Rarity? Go to Colgate's Office and start pulling dental records?"

Rarity shrugged, "If the pony that used this knife even went to Colgate's office, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of records to go through. We'd be comparing teeth for days with the relatively good chance of ultimately coming up with nothing."

Applejack watched Pinkie stare into the floor seeing the pink pony's eyes squeezed in mental effort. "Well, let's forget about Scroot, and go with the suspect being a unicorn. You think that'll narrow it down?"

"I got it!" Pinkie exclaimed shifting her glare to the directory. "Teddy's Transportation is where the sled came from. They'll know who the last pony to rent the cart was!"

"How do you know?" Rarity asked pointedly.

"There's a plate on the back of the sled. It looks just like this logo!" Pinkie declared tapping on the book.

"Well, there you go." Applejack nodded. "We got ourselves a lead, Rarity."

"Excellent!" Rarity stamped. She went to Scroot's ‘other office’ and knocked, "Scroot! We have a lead!"

Scroot's voice emerged muffled from behind the door, "That's great. Go away!"

Pinkie bounced, "We go to Apple Loosa, and we'll know exactly who-dun-did-doed it!”

"Their name will be right there in the records. The pieces will just fall together and we'll have solved this thing!" Applejack concluded.

Pinkie grabbed the top of the page and tore it from the book, "Come on! We're going to Apple Loosa!" She said as she dashed out of the cabin.

Applejack followed quickly, but stopped at the doorway looking back at Rarity whom hadn't moved. "You coming, sugar cube?"

"I think I'm going to stay," Rarity gestured Applejack onward. "Scroot will need my help with something, I'm sure."

"Alright, then." Applejack nodded and closed the door behind her.

Rarity knocked again on the bathroom door, "Scroot. You okay? I wasn't trying to make you mad."

"I'm fucking fine, Rarity. Jeez!" Scroot shouted over the flushing toilet. He swung open the door, “I’m really trying not to be an asshole anymore, but when my asshole needs relief, I just want to be left alone.”

"I'm sorry, Scroot. Should I just go with them?" She suggested attempting to remedy his rage. She backed away a few steps distancing herself from the flatulent smell emitting from the room.

"No." He shook his head and pulled the door shut, "I'm sorry, Rarity. You're going through a rough time, and you don't need me being an ass to you."

"It's okay." She nodded. "What can I do to help?"

"Nothing, honey. When you get to be my age, you can't force it. You just have to let gravity pull it out."

She recoiled, "No, pertaining to the case."

"Oh!" He laughed. "I'm sorry. We could go back to the house, and you can show me where you found the knife."

She shuddered, "Ooh. I don't think I could ever stomach going back in that house ever again. I'm going to have to burn that saddlebag knowing what's been in it."

Scroot sighed exasperatedly shaking his head, "Let me look things over, and I'll find something for us to do."

Rarity looked at her saddlebag and back to Scroot whom was rooting through a file cabinet trying to piece something together on the spot. She knew he wasn't going to come up with anything they hadn't already just by skimming some notes, but she appreciated his effort. Maybe, she thought, that ass kicking was exactly what he needed. He appeared more patient and more humble. Even in his recent outburst, he didn't try to justify himself, he just apologized and even explained sincerely why he was sorry. He was right, though. She did feel like she was on the brink of bursting into tears at any moment, and his yelling and cursing wasn't helpful to her emotions.

"Scroot," She started falling short on what words to choose, "Have you ever lost somepony?"

He glanced over to her attempting to see the subtext of her question watching her blink the moisture from her eyes, "Yes."

"Who?" She asked incredulously.

Scroot furrowed his brow squinting, "My parents, I'm a widower, and many friends. I'm fairly old, Rarity. I've seen many ponies pass in my time with the exception of the murders and accidents I worked when I was a cop."

"How did you get through it? All of the death?" She stepped closer to him as he closed the file cabinet and took a seat at the table.

"I don't know. Time just kind of did its thing. My wife's death was pretty traumatizing, but I got over it eventually." He said gesturing into the air exemplifying his 'the world keeps spinning' mindset.

"How did she die, if you don't mind me asking?" Rarity politely queried.

"A taxi driver lost control of his cart down a hill and hit her while she was crossing the street in Manehattan." He gestured with a hoof to the adjacent chair, "Now, if you don't mind me asking, what is this really about?" He made his voice soft and his sudden genuine concern was heartwarming to her.

Rarity took the offer for a seat and slumped over the table with her chin resting on her hooves. She’d never be able to explain what came over her, but opening up to him seemed logical at the time. "I just feel wrong. I apologize for the laugh we had at your expense, not for your sake, but for Twilight's. I feel guilty for continuing life without her." The white unicorn brushed her long mane from her face and returned the hoof under her chin "Wasn't it hard seeing all of that death? It didn't make you feel terrible knowing all of those ponies were dying around you?"

He smiled in a misplaced attempt to brighten the unicorn, "At first, it was hard, but I got used to it. Dead ponies became numbers, and I was a professional at detaching myself from the cases when I came home." The smile faded, "When it was somepony close to me, I was a professional at pushing my emotions deep inside when I went to work."

Scroot stood and continued, "What I found out eventually; nothing is going to seem to help now. Every time you laugh and every time you do something amazing, you're going to immediately think about how you'd love to share that moment or achievement with your friend. When I made sergeant, I was alone in my house wishing for a clairvoyant to burst in and tell me how proud my wife was of me."

"That doesn't make me feel better, Scroot." She sighed with a pained smile.

"Honestly, I'm not trying to tell you what you want to hear because that's not going to help you." He explained projecting a very real desire to lift her spirit. She began to find his gruff voice interestingly soothing.

Rarity mustered a chuckle, "I know. Everypony keeps telling me, 'It's going to be alright,' and, 'She's in a better place', but all of that seems to just make me feel worse."

Scroot waved a hoof towards her expressively, "Of course it makes you feel worse. The fact is that you're not alright right now, and the best place for your friend is right here with us; fuck all of that existential bullshit."

He calmed himself, "I don't want you to be sad, Rarity, but I know you will be. Eventually, over time, you'll see the time you had together as a blessing. Right now, her passing will feel like a perpetual missed opportunity, and you'll just have to ignore the idiots who've never lost somepony close to them. They'll spew those recycled phrases of obligatory pity, but you'll just say, 'thanks' and then forget them."

Scroot nosed in his pocket for a cigarette making his way to the exit, "I'm going outside for a smoke. I got to clear my head."

"So, I'm just waiting for time to help me?" She attempted to simplify his long winded speech while following him to the entryway.

He shrugged as he sucked the flame into the cigarette from the lighter on the porch, "Grieving is not a concrete process that comes in stages." He blew smoke leaving his lighter on the ground, "You'll be sad about it for a while, you'll be over it for a while, and then you'll be sad about it again. You never really stop grieving. You just get more used to that particular sadness."

As his profane words and animated vehemence settled deeper in her mind, she began to feel at ease. Somepony else understood what she was feeling, and she found comfort knowing that the guilt she had tormented herself over was shared in some capacity. He didn't look so old, but he had the wisdom which was developed with age.

She took a deep breath shoving more emotion aside as she began to think of something productive to do. She watched a warm smile spread across Scroot's face in reassurance with a small trail of grey drifting away from the cigarette's cherry. He dipped his head letting his hat fall on the wood flooring next to a small black ceramic ash tray resting on the natural finish porch.

The sun was beginning its descent to the horizon as the cooler air fell from the west. Without the brim of the hat over his features, his eyes looked younger and the dark blue iris appeared sharp and controlled in the cloudy light. His mane was full, dark, and the color nearly matched his jet black tie woven into that stylishly convoluted knot. The five ‘o clock shadow underlined his strong jaw, and his powerful stature was exemplified by the rigidly pressed sport coat perfectly accented with that crisp baby blue dress shirt. In the midst of her depression, she found herself suddenly flush with attraction to the older pony. She fixed herself on his smoking habit knowing that if it weren't for that disgusting vice of his, she probably couldn't help herself.

She stated flatly, "I'm going to go see Spike."

He nodded carefully resting the cigarette on the edge of the ash tray, "I don't know what I'm going to do yet, but I'll figure it out.”

Scroot turned to Rarity putting a hoof around the back of her neck. He warmly looked into her eyes as he drew a deep cleansing breath and a compassionate smile flicked the corners of his mouth. She closed her eyes, pursed her lips, and was caught off guard by the friendly hug from the investigator.

"I know it's hard, but feel better for me, okay?" He said releasing her and immediately biting down on the butt of the cigarette pulling deeply without further comment. She nodded mutely starting south toward town and praying that Scroot’s eyes had been closed, too.