The Shadows of War

It was a game of cat and mouse. In this case, I was the cat and mouse, both at once. My target and opponent was the same. The city sprawled in all directions, with roofs and cover all over the place. Below me, a gulf between my building and the one across the street stretched into blackness. The sky was dark, but I knew that the Gryphon sniper's eyes were just as good as mine.

Plink!

A round ricocheted off the stone next to me. I swore quietly, before rolling aback to the side. The barrel of a rifle stuck through a window, but as I drew a bead just behind it it vanished.

“Take the shot! DAMMIT TAKE THE SHOT!” Major Leaf screamed at me. All around me, my squad dove for cover as rounds hit the are around us. Radio Wave screamed and went silent as he was hit twice, the first in the leg and the second between the eyes. Wire Tap swore and staggered off of the roof, falling to an unseen death far below. My heart stopped and tears filled my eyes. “I can't see him!” I yelled, frantically searching the roofs. All of them looked the same! This wasn’t right!

“You are WORTHLESS MAGGOT! Take the shot!” she yelled. Her eyes were cold and hard, staring right at me as a shot hit next to her. “Take it now!”

I looked down the scope. In a clearing in the town, under the oppressive fog of war, a soldier held a small child. At this range, even I couldn’t see if the soldier was shielding it or threatening it. Wrecked vehicles burned all around, making it look like the worst depths of Tartarus. Still, I couldn’t make out the target! Was that an equestrian uniform or a gryphon uniform?

“TAKE THE SHOT OR BE DAMMNED!”

I took the shot. The soldier, so far away, twitched and fell. The landscape around me seemed to zoom in, and I was no longer on the rooftop anymore. I was suddenly standing in front of the child and soldier. The foal was not moving anymore, but was lying dead with a look of terror on her face. Numbly, I reached forwards and rolled the dead soldier over...

“You rat traitor...” said Blaze, looking up at me. “You got us all killed.... I hope you burn....”

I woke up, gasping. Nausea overwhelmed me and a moment later I rolled out of the comfortable bed and onto the ground, retching. It was dark out, Celestia having not yet raised the sun, and the quiet was horribly loud in my ears. I heaved twice, finally depositing what little was in my stomach on the floor, before I curled up. I wanted to stop existing. In could hear the screams of war in my ears, and for a minute I thought I smelled sulfur.

There was the soft thudding of feet outside my door, and a light came on. A mare was silhouetted in the frame, stopping and staring for a moment before rushing in. “What gives?” she cried, coming over, before stepping in my sick and swearing. “Aw crap. You okay?” she said.

I barely heard her. Flashes of war kept running through my mind until finally there was a soft touch on my shoulder and I looked up, only to see that blue face. She was looking down at me with concern. I thanked my lucky stars that I was not crying like a foal, but for the love of Luna I could not stop shaking. My hand.... they just kept trembling.

Finally, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Looking up, I stared at her. “I'm... alright. Just... just a bad dream...” I said, pulling myself up shakily, and putting my hands behind my back. Rainbow Dash stared at me for a while, eyes glinting in the light up above us, the reflection of the window in them.

“Dude... you were yelling about something called “Mortar” a minute ago, and you just puked on my floor. What gives?” she asked, taking my arm and pulling me onto the bed.

My heart was still racing, and I had to blink a few times until my vision fully cleared. “Sorry... look, I don’t want to talk about it. Living in a war is bad enough once, and I am really grateful for you taking me in so I don’t have to go back home and make mom deal with it, but... I REALLY don’t want to talk about it. I'm fine. Just a bad dream.”

Finally, she nodded. “Alright... but be careful. I know what stress can do to people, I have known twilight for nearly five years now” she said, looking up at the clock and sighing. “Look, its four in the morning. Go get cleaned up and pitch on the couch, I can take care of the mess in here. And try not to wake Tank up, he gets jittery and flies into things.”

Tank, her flying tortoise, was not pleased to see me as I went out. He grumbled but retreated back into his shell as I sat down on the couch. What was WRONG with me? I couldn’t get the visions out of my head. Radio Wave... I missed him so badly. I remember meeting him on the train, and getting screamed at for socializing with him. And he had to get himself blown up on that damn beach! His death was so... pointless! The sight of him, blood pouring out his ears with the entire back of his head blown off was still as vivid in my mind as my hands shaking in front of me were right now.

I knew something was wrong though. I had tried to jump out of a fifth floor window... I DID jump... and I couldn’t help but have the nagging feeling that I might have wanted to do it... it would have made my problems go away...

Two hours later, I was seated at the table across from a yawning Rainbow Dash. She stifled another one, and glared at me. “Take the pills.”

I glared back. “No. I don’t need these meds. Give them to someone who actually needs them.”

For a moment, she was silent, before saying “Look, we have two options here. Either you take them-” she started, before I cut her off.

“Or I go to prison, I know. Doctor Turner explained it to me.”

She grinned. “Nope. Either you take them, or I cram them down your throat. I had to take care of Rarity for a week, and she refused the meds because she thought they were too... er... garish, whatever that means. So either you take them, or I prove that I am the better Pegasus.”

I looked at her for a bit longer, but the look in her eyes held no mercy. It was black and cold, and it was my future if I refused the mare. Finally, I took the meds. One was an antidepressant, another was a stimulant to counteract the pain meds, and the third was a high grade semi addictive pain medication that started with a V. Luckily, I would only need the other two for another week or two at most. The final med was some sort of experimental thing to help me deal with the PTSD, a sort of combination magical memory suppressor and anti anxiety med meant to stop flashbacks. Doctor Turner had told me it was experimental, but showed promise, and as I had waived my rights to refuse treatment, he had happily wrote his colleges at Manehatten Medical University to tell them he had a Guinea pig here. This was my first day with the new med, but I did privatly hope it helped with the flashbacks. Even I could not deny that I was having them, as the events of the morning showed, but the warm glow of the pill as it went down was not very comforting.

Dash smiled on the other side. “I ALWAYS win. So, lets go over your schedule for the day and mine. I am gonna drop you off at Doctor Turners place for your counseling, and then I gotta go do my work in the Ponyville Weather Team. What's next?”

I thought. “Then I go to Sugarcube Corner so that Pinkie Pie can keep an eye on me until you get off. I need to try to not freak anyone out, and just do my best to stay out of the way.”

She nodded. “I should get off work around three, so when I get there, you and I are gonna go back home so that we can do your physical therapy. A few weeks ago you had great tone, but now you're all scrawny” she said, prodding my arm. “I thought you army guys were supposed to be like Angel Ohs sculptures!”

I sighed. “Remind me not to look under your mattress. At least not without eye bleach. I'm ready to go anytime, Miss Dash.”

She shook her head. “Nuh uh! You are NOT calling me Miss Dash. NOBODY calls me Miss Dash. Its Dash or Dashie or Rainbow. Miss Dash makes it sound like I’m... I dunno, a lawyer or something. I’m an ATHLETE. Got it?”

I nodded. “Sure...Dash... so time to go?”

She nodded, and off we went. The morning was cool, the sun not up yet at zero six hundred. The moon shone brightly in the sky, moving towards its decent on the horizon as the faintest licks of red light lapped away on the opposite side, a reminder of Celestia and Luna's age old dance. Our wait for the Tram was not all that long, and before we knew it I was hobbling off of the mercifully short ride and waving back at her. “See you at Sugarcube Corner at three!” I called, and she nodded as she left.

As I faced the clinic, I couldn’t help but wonder what provoked Dash to just come into my life like this. I had hit her with a table! Why did she let me into her home, take care of my messes, and put up with the fact I could hardly move without assistance? I was weak, physically and mentally now, and of not much value to the flock. I couldn’t even fly... at that thought, a solid lump rose in the back of my throat.

“Hey mister! You gonna stand there all day staring at me?”

I blinked. I was in front of the check-in desk, where a tired mare sat behind a steaming cup of coffee. Smiling, I cleared my throat. “Erm, sorry. Co-er, Steel Wing here. I have a Zero Six Thirty with Doctor Time Turner.”

She nodded. “Right, the soldier. Hey, I don’t mean it badly, just... take a seat sir. He'll be right with you. Thanks for your service” she said, smiling in a friendly manner, although I could see her eyes kept glancing to my right side. I simply nodded and sat down on one of the seats, waiting.

Ten minutes later, she looked up at me again. “Doctor Turner will see you now. Go on in. Only door on the left of the hallway” she said, hitting a button and making the door to the back of the building open up.

Getting up, I marched my way through, down about six feet of sterile smelling hallway before turning a left and knocking thrice upon the door. “Permission to enter?” I asked, automatically seeking clearance to enter a room before doing so. There was a chuckle from inside as the door opened. “Come on in! Good to see you not hooked up to a breathing tube. Get in here and take a seat upon the table, and pull off your shirt, lets do a basic checkup before we get to talking.”

I nodded and complied. The setup inside was different from a doctors room that I was used to. Instead of the checkup table, there was a comfortable couch that had a reclining back. It was currently down, turning the couch into a short table. Pulling my shirt off, I winced at the strain on my back. Some of the skin was stretched tightly from the stitching that pulled two bullet holes shut, and they had had to take skin off of my back to patch burn wounds from the exploding building on my legs. Luckily, nothing had hurt certain sensitive parts of the male anatomy, a fact for which I was immensely grateful.

He nodded at me and pulled out a stethoscope, putting it on my back. “I need you to breath in as far as you can and hold it for five seconds, and then let it out over the course of another five seconds.

I complied, and he ran me through several other exercises, measuring my lung capacity, reaction to dust, and a couple of eye checks. Finally, he smiled. “You are healing fine. A bit of a hitch in your breathing and a very minor heart murmur, but all in all you are making a fine recovery. Still, that kind of abuse on your body is really gonna take its toll when you get old. I am going to give you another medication for blood pressure and one for the heart murmur, but I think everything is going to work out just fine... if you keep up with PT with Miss Dash, I think you are going to be back in fine physical shape in a few months. Give it a year, and you will be just about as good as you were right out of boot camp. So... ready to talk?”

I shrugged. I was not feeling much about the whole talking thing. I felt fine, inwardly. The only thing that was really getting to me was people getting on my case about feelings. I just needed time to think things over without everypony asking “How do you feel” every few minutes. “I’m fine, doc. Really. I just need some time to sort things over in my mind. If I have that, I think I can go back to not being a bother to everyone else. What Miss... er, Rainbow is doing is really polite, but I hate to be a burden on her. The whole reason I went into the army, other than the draft, was to make Moms life easier. The money helped, and she didn’t have an extra mouth to feed. The sooner you give me my clean bill of health, the sooner everyone else will be happy.”

He scribbled on his paper, the scratching of his quill slightly annoying, before looking up. “You are really amazing you know that?”

I stopped. That surprised me. “What, that I made a speedy recovery?”

He laughed. “Haha! Goodness no. That you are even more proud than Miss Dash! People care about you quite a bit, Miss Dash included, but within ten minutes of talking I know EXACTLY what is wrong with you. You DO have depression, and you DO have PTSD. But what you have the biggest problem with, is your pride. You don’t want to admit there is anything wrong with you, because then you would be weak. You would be like the soldier in the news the other day who went and shot up a mall, or the one that hung himself.”

Instantly, rage boiled up inside of me. His laughter made it sound like this was a game to him. “No, Doctor. What I mean is that I am PERFECTLY fine. I have nightmares just like everyone else, and they all saw the same shit I did. They spent a month making me able to kill, and I got my destiny mark in being able to take a life, and yeah, maybe that messed us all up a bit. But I don’t see them all in counseling. Blaze is gonna go back to college, Bubbles from what I heard, when he gets out, is going to go back home. So why should I be special? Why should I be different?”

He looked down at his paper, writing for nearly three minutes. My temper slowly started to rise, and I ground my teeth. There was NOTHING wrong with me. I was fine, I was still just perfectly alright. He had NO right to treat me like this! “I am NOT just some experiment for you to run, Doctor Turner.”

He looked up finally, and nodded. “No, you are not. But you are a patient of mine, and legally obligated to do as I tell you. Thus far, here is what I have noticed about you. You march whenever you walk. You talk in a clear, precise voice. You look directly in the eye when speaking, even when it is something uncomfortable. When you get stressed, your hand twitches towards your hip, and you flex your right index finger. You knock three times before entering and ask permission to do so if it is in a professional area. And you have the stubborn attitude of a ten year old colt.”

That was it. His calm voice did nothing to sooth me, and I jumped to my feet. “Shut up! I am NOT depressed. What do you WANT from me, Doc? What are you PLAYING at?” I shouted. Outside, I heard a yelp and a crash, but my eyes were fixed on the doctor in front of me, who just calmly regarded me. “Why do I have to do this stupid counseling?!?”

Finally, he stood up. And he was several inches taller than me, and an earth pony to boot. “What I WANT, Steel Wing, is to figure out how to make sure you are not a menace to society. If you are freaked out by what you see in the mirror, imagine how everyone else feels” he said, his voice low. “when they see you. You are horrid and disfigured. But you are STILL A GOOD PERSON. Rainbow Dash sees that, or she would have kicked your flank in Sugarcube Corner. She feels TERRIBLE for that. Do you know she blames herself for you jumping? She hates that she pusehd you. She, I think, said that she felt like she might as well have pushed you out the window. She offered to pay your medical bill before the VA office footed it. I am not cheap to see. She never hesitated before telling me to take your case. So before you go belittling everything and everyone around you, how about you STOP and THINK about it. People care about you, Steel Wing! People want to see you get better! So you have two options. Option one” he said, holding out his hand, showing a note that clearly read a clean bill of health, “Is that you take this. Leave here, and leave Ponyville. Go somewhere else, start over, and enjoy your life. IF you can tell me that you wont end up jumping in front of a train instead of jumping on one.”

My anger faded as he spoke. Slowly calming down, I sat on the couch thing again and looked up at him as he stood over me. Despair filled me as he stopped speaking. No matter what I thought, no matter how I spun it in my mind... I could see myself jumping in front of that train. And not even my mind could convince me that that was a normal pony reaction. I thought of that time, so many months ago, when I looked into a mirror, brushing my teeth, listening to the radio in the morning. Where was that colt? Where was that young, eager face, fresh out of flight camp? Where had he gone?

“What... what's option two?” I asked, staring up at him.

“Option Two is that you give Rainbow a chance. Despite being brash, I am sure you have already seen her motherly side. She has mellowed in the last year, especially since some of her personal issues messed with her life dream. Ask her. You are not the only one who have had your dreams scrapped. She was going to be a Wonderbolt. Was actually going to try to get back in, but she decided to take you on instead. So you keep taking your meds, you listen to her, you meet her friends, and make sure that you don’t give in to your depression. It IS real, and it is IMPORTANT that you TALK to people.”

I slowly nodded. I was shattered. I didn’t know what to think. This doctor had reduced me to nothing in less than four minutes, when it had taken the army four weeks to do that in boot camp. I felt like crying right now, but I held it in. Plenty of time for that later, when I was alone. In a dark room. By myself, or with a bottle of whiskey to keep me company.

“And I would suggest you don’t take up heavy drinking, either. I know that look. Now get going, your time is up. We will meet again in a week” he said, helping me up off the couch. “Just take it easy.”

It was clear to me as I left, heading down the street in the early morning light towards Sugarcube corner, that he probably was kicked out of Canterlot for a lack of bedside manner. I knew a boot camp that could use someone as harsh as him.

My thoughts were interrupted by a hand on my shoulder, and a firm voice saying “Mister Steel Wing?”

I turned, looking at two familiar police officers. “Um... yes?” I asked, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Silver Star smirked at me. “You're under arrest.”