Broken, but Still Standing

The beats waved through the air of the Blue Moon night club, a strangled mess of sirens and drops that made your eardrum vibrate so hard, you think they'd burst. Beautiful. This is my scene.

The name is Scratch. Vinyl Scratch. Dj Pon3 while I'm on stage. This is the story of how I met her. The mare that changed my life in more ways than one. Now, let me explain a little something. Most ponies seem to think that Octi and I have a thing. Yes, while we've flirted with the idea a time or two, we're just really good friends. She's going out with a friend of mine, Barron Von Hoofin, and she's happy, so I'm cool with it.

But, back to the night that night. I was finishing up my routine, controlling the life blood of the club with my skilled hooves as I massacred song after song with cutting tweaks, bullet like beats and strangling squeals that amounted to the sickest drops you'd ever heard in your whole entire bucking life. At the end of my 'play time' as I like to think of it as, I like to single out the next stallion, or mare, I'll be taking home with me. Sure, I'm a little lose, good vibes will do that to you, but I also have good taste, and the next instrument of my music understands its just a one night thing. If they're still by my side in the morning, we're going to have a problem.

So, I spied her. The gray mare with the blond mane and tail sat at the bar, away from my music. Several emotions hit at once. She's got a fine body, and wings too boot. I have a thing for wings. Another reason why Octi never really caught my eye. But, she's facing away from me and my beautiful music. I smiled. I liked a challenge.

“Wub-a-dub-dub mother buckers! Ready for my last drop that will leave you shitless?”

The crowd roared my name as I let it drop. It was hard, intense, yet paced at the right tempo, like passionate sex, that just keeps rolling from one breath to another, eliciting moans, gasps and whimpers. The entire time I made love with my turn tables and blowing the minds of every little pony in the room, I kept my eyes trained on the elusive one. The mare at the bar who seemed more interested in her drink than in my performance. I'd decided I'd take her home that night. Any mare that I don't impress, is worth getting to know a lot better.

As my last screeches fade, melting into a new, high tempo zaps of Neon Light's beat. I let him take over, making my way to the floor with eyes only for the stranger at the bar.

“Give me an AJD on the rock.” I called over the rich, vibrant noise that ponies call music. The bartender nodded, sliding me the glass of liquor.

The mare didn't even acknowledged that I was sitting next to her.

“So, what's your name cutie?”

The gray mare looked up, eyes skewed in different directions. Sweet Celestia! I about died of laughter. Did she drink too much already? It was then that I noticed the big tears that were on her cheeks, and any laughter that would be in me deflated like a popped balloon.

She didn't say a word. She just went back to her drink. Something wasn't right, and my horn gave a twitch. Call it instinct or intuition, but when my horn twitches, there was more that I needed to know.

“Hey,” I tried again. “You okay?”

“...You going to throw me out too?”

“What?” Wow, where did that come from?

“I overheard a few ponies talking.”

Oookay? What did that have to do with her question? Actually it was more like an accusation, which held enough truth to be damning to my chances of getting her home tonight.

“Okay, so you overheard some loud mouths. Doesn't make it true, but more to the point. That kind of reply to the question of 'You okay' means something's up.”

She looked at me, her gaze tantalizing, yet scrutinizing, like she caught me cheating on a test or something.

“Go bother some other pony.”

Ooohh noo she didn't. Those were challenge words, and I never back down from a challenge.

“So, what are you going to do? Mope about-”

“I'm pregnant.” She cut in. “The father just through me out and I have no place to go. From what I hear, you're no better, so leave me alone while I...I...” Her bottom lip trembled, and the tears started flowing again, welling up and dripping like one of my beats that would rock the house.

I was at a loss of words. What she said, hit home like a mother bucking train wreck.

“That's messed up.” I replied, most likely in a daze. That's not the kind of thing you recover from and brush off like it never was said. Suddenly, the beat became nothing more than noise.

“And I have no place to go..” More tears.

“The buck you do.” I growled, glaring at my drink, which I hadn't even touched. “You're coming home with me.”

She looked at me, unsure what to think, and for once, all the cockiness of DJ Pon3 was gone.

“It's not far, and I won't kick you out. You're in a jam, and I've got a pad you can crash on, until you find something more your speed.

She sniffled, then smiled. Something deep inside me lit up, like a flame of a match that was ready to light the tinder of a thirsty fire.

Then her eyes turned hard, like something clicked in her head. She growled.

“I'm not going to fall for that.”

The look in her eye said a lot of things to me. Anger, hurt, regret, but most of all fear. She shook her head, pushing away her drink, which looked like nothing more than water.

“You think I'm going to take advantage of you.” I stated in a flat, matter of fact way. She nodded. “I don't bang mares who are crying.”

She looked a little nervous at my upfrontness about it, but didn't back down. “Not the first time I've heard those words.” She replied. “I'm not going to let another do to me what he did.”

Buck, this girl just didn't know who to trust. “Let me clear the air. You're pregnant and were thrown out by the father, right?” She winced, but nodded. “Same thing happened to my mother, only no pony had the nads big enough to invite her into their home and let her sleep it off for a few days. No bucker cared that she was beaten and abused. No, she was a blot on society. Well, I ain't like other ponies, and I'll be damned if I sit by and watch any pony go through the same pain my mother went through. You can stay a few days, or a year all I bucking care, but you are not going to spend the night in the gutter.”

My words mush have startled her. To prove my point, I did something only a few ponies have seen me to. In short, the act was something of legend, something that only a few I even took home see me do. I lifted my shades so she could see my red irises eyes.

“Trust me. No pony will touch you.”

That was the final push for her, and she nodded. As I left, the bartender grabbed my arm, giving me a scrutinizing look.

“You better make sure she's okay.”

“Hoof off the arm.”

“She's a sweet mare, Scratch. I'd take her in if I could, but if I find out you-”

I almost laughed. “Really? Really, Tender? It's cool. I'm just going to let her stay long enough to  get on her hooves.”

He let go. “She told me the whole story. She's been touched enough as is. Don't do anything, or I'll ban you from the bar for life.”

I gave him a strange look, but nodded. Okaay, I have no idea what that was about, but still, Tender listened to the sad sob stories of at least a hundred ponies a night. If this one is affecting him so, then she was in deeper shit than she admitted.

The walk home was refreshing. The breeze was cool and clean, even brisk, and Luna's stars were out, twinkling and winking at us. I'd like to think of what would happen if I could convince Luna to let me play a sky rave with those stars. The sickness would be of such epic proportions, I'd be a god to every DJ for a millennium.

She sniffed as we walked, side by side. Her quiet noises brought me back to earth.

“So, what's your name?”

She sniffled. “Derpy. Derpy Hooves.”

Derpy? What a cute name.

“Got family?”

She stopped so suddenly, that my brain didn't even register that she did until I was about five paces ahead of her. I looked back to see her silently bawling, like the very fabric of her heart was tearing into tiny ribbons. I stood there watching her whimper, not knowing what to say, or do. I myself had issues that crumbled me into nothing more than a pile of quivering tears, but that's what alcohol is for. Between, that, sex and my beats, I created a shell so thick nothing in Equestria could touch me. Yet, this mare, her tears, stripped me of every bit of armor I hid behind.

“Please don't cry.” I pleaded finally. I walked up to her and hugged her. “Please, don't cry Derpy.”

She sniffled, and let me lead her to my apartment.

Truth be told, I don't remember the rest of that night after we got through the front door. I was feeling the pains of my child hood and the only thing that could numb the pain was a bottle of Ol' Smiths Whiskey that I'd been saving. We talked as I drank and drank and drank before all went black.