Zero Room

Dinky Doo watched as her mother lay face-down on the couch in the living room, her hooves covering her head. Ditzy had been very still for a few minutes, and as far as Dinky knew, she was also extremely stressed by what had just happened. Dinky's thoughts were interrupted by Amethyst, who was crunching away on a piece of toast at the kitchen table.

"How can you be hungry, Amy?" pouted Dinky to her sister. Amethyst looked at the little filly sassily.

"Because I woke up like, an hour ago and I still haven't eaten all my breakfast," she replied.

"That's not what I mean!" grunted Dinky. "I mean right now, when Momma's upset."

"Dinky, Mom's upset pretty often with all this 'Doctor' nonsense," said Amethyst as she took another bite. She spoke through her full mouth. "She's gonna pout about it until he gets back. Besides, there's a pillar in our kitchen where our roof is supposed to be and I still managed to keep my appetite."

"Why do you not like the Doctor so much?" Dinky replied. "He's nice, especially to Mom. No wonder she misses him, and I miss him too."

"That makes two of you then," said Amethyst, swallowing the last of her toast. "Listen Dinky, I've told this to you a hundred times on why I could care less about the Doctor. Do you remember what life was like before he came?" Dinky scrunched her face.

"Um. . ."

"Well, you were probably too young, but I remember," Amethyst continued, lowering her voice a little more so only her sister could hear. "Mom used to be home all the time. She'd make her mail deliveries, but that was it. She'd be home the rest of the day. She used to make us breakfast in bed, take us to parks, we even got to go to Canterlot and Manehattan a couple of times. Life was good when it was me, you, and Mom. Nopony else."

"But life is still good now, isn't it?" Dinky defended.

"In you dreams, maybe," said Amethyst. "Everything's. . .different now that the Doctor showed up a couple years ago. One day, he shows up in his weirdo blue box, and the next thing I know, Mom's gone off with him, seeing things and going on adventures. She spends all of her time with him now."

"We went on a couple adventures though," said Dinky, remembering the times the Doctor would take the kids and Ditzy to someplace very fascinating. "Besides, she's never been gone longer than a day."

"That's what you think," said Amethyst, "but she's gone almost everyday. And she's always changed after she comes back. Like she's been gone for a few weeks in the time we've lived a few days. And she's always tired. C'mon, Dinky, you know I'm right." The younger sister stared at Amethyst, unsure of what to say. This was the truth, at least through Amethyst's eyes, and now Dinky was seeing it. She didn't want to. She wanted things to be fine. She always wanted things to be fine.

"She still loves us, Amy," Dinky tried to argue. "And the Doctor does too. They both care about us."

"You're talking like the Doctor's our dad or something, and he's not, Dinky."

"Well. . .kinda. . ."

"He and mom aren't even dating."

"We don't know that."

"Exactly! We don't know! That's what I'm trying to get at! It's like they live a life without us!"

"But he still cares."

"He cares for Mom. The only reason he shows kindness for us is because of Mom. How have you not gotten this yet?"

"I don't want to get it," Dinky muttered.

"Well then, let me put it in simple terms for you," said Amethyst, her tone raising. "The Doctor showed up, took Mom with him, and left us behind. The sooner you get this the sooner you realize what's really happening here instead of living in your little fantasy world!" The young mare's voice suddenly dropped. Ditzy had gotten up from the couch when Amethyst wasn't looking and was now standing in the doorway. She had a stern look on her face.

"Don't talk to your sister that way," she simply said. Amethyst's instant burst of fear from getting caught by her mother turned to grumpiness. She furrowed her brows.

"At least I'm telling her the truth, Mom," she grumbled while turning to walk out of the other exit of the kitchen to the bedrooms. "It's better than all those lies you've told her."

"Amethyst!"

"Whatever," she said before leaving the kitchen. Her hooves lightly clattered in the hallway before a door slammed throughout the house. Ditzy stood, flustered, but didn't want to worsen the situation any further. She sighed. Dinky scuffed her hooves on the floor.

"Amy's wrong about all that, Momma," the little filly in her innocence. She then turned an uncertain gaze to Ditzy. "Isn't she?"

"She's just upset because she sees things differently," Dinky's mother replied.

"How?" Ditzy turned and kneeled down to see her daughter eye to eye.

"When things used to be the three of us--you, me, and Amy--your sister was comfortable with that. She was glad to have a family that she knew loved her to herself. When the Doctor came, he was new, and sort of widened our circle of three to four. It's just been hard for her to adjust to the change."

"But we've known the Doctor for a long while now," replied Dinky. "And he's very nice. Why hasn't she liked him yet?"

"Well, nopony has to like everypony. . .and that is sad to think about, however all the same it doesn't mean she'll never like him at all ever. She's still stubborn about the Doctor becoming our friend because Amy is just like that. She might need more than a couple years to realize the Doctor isn't at all against her." Dinky frowned.

"I think Amy's wrong," she pouted.

"She's right in her own sense," said Ditzy. "Just be patient, Muffin."

"Okay, Momma." Dinky hugged her mother before pulling back.

"Momma."

"Hm?"

"Can we look inside the weird thing?" asked Dinky, pointing a hoof to the strange pillar that was still sitting in the kitchen. Ditzy wanted to say no, but at the same time, felt the same way.