One last dance

An old stallion makes his way to a bench, he staggers slightly as he moved, grumbling under his breath and muttering since his mouth is filled with bird feed.

He calmly seats himself on the bench, sighing with relief as his tired bones are supported. With a resolute sigh, he tilts his head back and smiles slightly as he listens to the birds. He opens his eyes and watches the trees sway gently in the wind, the morning sun only just beginning to rise. Not long after he sits, he is visited by a few friends, a couple squirrels and hummingbirds so familiar with the old stallion that rather than running away, run towards and greet him with gleeful chattering.

He too smiles and laughs in that old man's laugh. A sort of throaty rumble verging on a chuckle.  He takes out a loaf of prench bread and tears off a piece sprinkling it's crumbs for the little creatures to meet.

He sits back and sighs deeply as he watches the little critters frolics, he talks to other from time to time as they drop by and visit the stallion. All of his friends have passed away, some from the brutal regime of the Griffons when they shipped them off to the concentration camps, and some died of natural causes.

These are his friends now, but he will never forget them. And they will forever be in his memory. All the times they laughed, and all the times they cried. All the times  they danced, and all the times they sat by the fireplace and just talked. About life, love, and happiness.

He's been searching for happiness for a long time. And for a while, he found it in her.

It's already noon when he starts dozing. Another friend of his brings him some lunch and they chat about the good old days, sometimes they talk about about favorite sports, and other times they get into heated debates about their favorite Hoofball game.

He always laughs off their arguments when his friend comes the next day apologizing. He does that alot. He laughs.

Maybe it's because he never got a chance to laugh, his childhood was never the best. Abused and mistreated, as a child he already grew the callouses on his heart not seen until adulthood.

She saved him though. She showed him all the good in life.

He starts dozing at about 3'oclock. And when he does, he sees her. He always does nowadays.

She's sitting in her usual spot, at the counter of Sugarcube Corner. He shyly approaches her, the tinkling doorbell a sign of his entry. She always gleefully jumps into the air and races off to greet him. He smiles, she's the only pony he ever talks to. Everypony else just hurts him or uses him or ignores him.

He's fine with it, she's the only pony he needs anyway.

She always asks him about his day, and he always says it was fine. But it's never fine, he's always trying to hide the scars. He always hides his scars.

"So how was Trottingham? Was it nice?"

He always lies. He told her and everypony a lie. He had to escape from his foster parents. He ran away.

"Yeah, it's fine."

She looks at him odd, her pink fuchsia mane bouncing slightly.

"Did your parents like it?"

He just shakes his head and gives her the same answer.

"Yeah, the like it so much they sent me here."

He gets a coffee and sits down at a table, looking out at the many passing ponies who couldn't give an ounce of care to their fellows.

She sits across from him, with her and she smiles.

She always smiles.

He always wakes up with a start when she does this, sweating slightly before collecting his thoughts and sighing in Melancholia. He pulls out a picture from underneath his Fedora, a gift from her.

It's an old photo, touched with age but priceless all the same. It shows her smiling next to him, tears in both of their eyes.

It was their wedding day photo. She was old by now, much older, and it took some convincing to get her to try it. But they dated for a while, he being content to see her smile, and she being content to be next to him.

He smiles fondly as he gingerly touches the spot where her head is, her eyes closed and the tears freely streaming, almost as if there was somepony saying something really funny off camera.

He chuckles as he remembers all the times he spent with her, from their first date, to their many screw ups ranging from baking to fishing, to the first time they kissed. That had ended with an unhappy hydra rampaging through Ponyville.

She taught him to smile and that was a lesson he will always carry. She taught him that every stranger was a friend waiting to happen, and that all that you needed to do was talk. She taught him that laugh had a meaning.

She rescued him from the pitiless depths of self-misery.

But alas, all memories have their fringes. And all happy moments are always over-shadowed by their counter-parts. He remembered the one day, they were sitting together and talking about plans for the future. She had come in complaining of headaches and stomach aches, as well as complaints about her spine. Foals, a new house, a new business when the doctor had come in with a grim expression.

To this day he still can't remember exactly what the doctor had said, he had been there when he said it, he was right next to her as he said it too.

But strangely, all he remembered were the tears.

All he remembered was the doctor extending a hoof to her shoulder in hopes of calming and trying to guide the mare.

Because by the time it was detected, the cancer had already spread to her stomach, brain, and spine.

The stomach and brain were fine, but the spine.

It was inoperable.

So he remembered the days spent in the hospital holding her hoof as she recovered from radiational therapy. In hopes of a miracle.

He remembered with such detail each and every day, watching her waste away and watching her slowly bleed away like sands in the wind.

He remembered all the pain, all the questions. Why did this have to happen? Why now?

But most of all, he remembered her final words, chocked out through the haze of painkillers and ulcers clouding her mind.

Remember, life is too short to be spent wallowing in your own sadness. If your sad, then fine, so be it. But never drag down others, and instead of trying to bring them down with your own sadness, lift them up, make them happy, make them laugh and make them feel like they are worth something to somepony. Don't try to hide your tears, talk to somepony any time your feeling sad. But never try to hide it Pipsqueak, it will eat you from the inside out.

And always remember, everypony will always look out for you. And so will I.

She had died not 30 minutes later.

He had cried. Of course he had cried. He locked himself in his house and cried for days, his sorrow had turned into anger, and he had belligerently turned the apartment upside down.

But he remembered what had happened afterwards.

Days after his rampage and self-hermitization, he emerged into the daylight, and had received an immediate pie to the face. He remembered how stunned he was, and how his eyes had widened when the whole town had appeared in front of his doorstep, a massive banner being hanged by 3 or 4 pegasi.

And it said: Happy birthday Pipsqueak! Don't worry! We'll never forget her!

He remembered how stunned he had been, falling to his knees as tears from his red and swollen eyes emerged, happiness and sorrow fighting for dominance until finally he gave up and let it all out.

On that day, a whole town had cried.

It was late now as he finally snapped out of his reverie. A nearby streetlamp hissed with the sound of electricity, all around him the sounds of crickets and midnight bugs.

Now, he sighs with contentment. He can feel it in his bones. He's lived a long life but now's the curtain call.

But as he opens his eyes from gathering his thoughts, he bursts into laughter.

Sitting in front of him, covered in dirt, she sat with the biggest smile. No longer filled with the bubbly color of cotton candy, but it was her none the less.

She shakes the dirt off and hops up. He smiles wryly.

"So, come to take an old stallion have you?" He asks, she shakes her head yes furiously, bobbing her pink curls. Then, as if on a dime, she stops and grows a ponderous look, before shaking her head violently no.

He becomes confused.

"No?"

She shakes her head yes.

"Yes?"

She shakes her head no.

His confucian only worsens as the mare shakes her head like crazy, swinging from "no" to "yes" dizzyingly.

Finally she rolls her eyes and sighs, though it's silent.

She grabs his front hoof and drags him into a standing position. By know he beings to formulate an idea of what she wants.

"So, now what?" He asks, still keeping the wry grin.

She stands on her back legs and holds her hooves in front of her, one is crooked while the other is titled at a 45 degree angle.

He sighs and chuckles a bit. The waltz always was her favorite dance.

They always danced, to commemorate their wedding, a little victory jig for taming the hydra, or dancing like a maniac at one of her parties. It never mattered, but the sentiment and art were all that really mattered.

And so they danced. One on the side of life, and the other on the other.

He lost himself in her hooves, and his body lost it's weight, he became as spry as a young buck as he stepped in a circle with her, occasionally offering a little twirl. She giggled, or at least it would have sounded like a giggle. He too chuckled as they continued, from out of nowhere old music sounding fresh from a gramophone starts.

He feels himself slipping back in time as he listens intently and moves with the music. She too steps in time as the two begin. He feels sunlight on his back as he is whisked away from the here and now, back into the good old days.

She feels it too and they begin to bounce on their heels, their wide swathing arcs beginning to become wider and faster as the pace speeds up until they are verging on foxtrot. He begins to laugh, the music is silly as they spin faster and faster. She does too until he is all but swinging her by her front legs.

Finally the music slows down considerably until the two are again casually moving from side to side. She lays her head on his shoulder and signs. He feels all the power of when he was a young strong buck as he moves with his love.

Though, the music stops as all things do. And she stops as it does too. They both step away, bow, and fall over laughing at the ridiculousness of the formality.

He feels the ages returning as he yawns, looking up, he sees the tendrils of the sun snaking across the sky. In his gut he knows that their time is up. She frowns and he grows a forlorn look as she turns to leave.

"Will I ever see you again?" He asks, she stops and turns around with a small smile.

"Tomorrow"

His friend came around again, hoping again to see the old timer and have another round of chatting amiably to pass the days.

However, when he gets there, the old timer is sleeping with a peaceful smile. The guy snickers as he creeps over to Pipsqueak's ear and shouts "BOO!" Really loudly.

Pipsqueak however, doesn't respond. The guy becomes troubled by this since Pipsqueak has always had a keen sense of hearing and has always slept light.

His suspicion is further proven when he puts his hoof to Pipsqueak's neck to check for a pulse.

"Well...it's a damn shame..but I guess it was time." He sighs with sadness, the old timer finally kicked the bucket. Hefting him onto his back, the guy walks away.

"C'mon old timer, it's time for you to sleep. Who knows, maybe you'll see her again ey?"

He awoke with a start. Had last night been a dream? Checking his body, he found sadly, that yes, it had been. Sighing with minor irritation and sadness, he makes to get off the bench.

That is, until he hears her voice.

"Surprise!"

With a wide smile and tearing eyes, he turns around.

(Author: Love knows no boundaries.)