The Balloon With No Air

by Swirlstar the Dedraeb

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle, Slice of Life, Sad, Main 6, Drama
Length: 3713

When Twilight finds out that Pinkie is suffering from clinical depression, she is determined to help her in any way she can.

Pinkie Pie has always strived to make everyone around her smile; it was her cutie mark -- her destiny --, after all.
So when she finds out and announces that she is suffering from clinical depression, it comes as a complete shock to everypony around her and none of them know what to do.
But a particular alicorn princess is more than willing to try.

Credit to my wonderful editor, 1DATMLP!

My first attempt at a polyvocal story. Character tags may change as the story goes on, blah blah blah, yakyakyak. Nobody cares, Swirly:facehoof:
Please note that the perspective will not change every chapter and also that while Pinkie will not be suicidal, she will still be depressed. Please do not read on if this sort of thing upsets you.

Contains Twipie

Published 2015-11-05 08:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2015-11-23 21:26:40 UTC

Discovery

When I'm doing something that I enjoy, I really really hate being directly disturbed by someone, regardless of who that someone may be. Especially if it's not for a good cause.

If I'm, say...interrupted by Spike running into my bedroom with his flailing arm carrying an urgent message from Princess Celestia, or my cutie mark (finally) starting to glow because my weird map is calling me -- honestly, I have no idea how that thing works --, then I don't mind so much.

I do mind, however, when all that's happened is something excruciatingly minor -- I tend to be in quite a grumpy and reclusive mood when I perform a solitary activity -- or a problem that could be easily solved by the ~~cyan pegasus~~ pony who's reporting it in the first place.

I mean, I love that Rainbow Dash thinks my intelligence is far beyond her own -- which it is, by the way --, but come on.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that I love reading, nor does it take a language prodigy to have the ability to read a simple but firm notice on the incredibly closed outside of my bedroom door:

DO NOT ENTER: Knowledge demolition in progress.

So when I jump at the sound of a raspy, "Twilight! Twilight, come quick!" with the slamming of my door against my cream walls being the only warning(who knew that doors could be slammed when being opened?), I think it's fair to say that I was immensely pissed off.

Through gritted teeth, I barely resist the urge to growl as I say, "What is it, Rainbow?"

She chipped the paint on my wall. She chipped. The paint. On. My. Wall. This better at least be humorous.

"Pinkie's refusing to come out of her house!" Dash declares, an exceedingly worried -- not to mention worrying -- expression on her face. After I give it some thought, however, I realise that there's actually nothing to be worried about.

I sigh. "Rainbow, she's probably just planning a surprise party or something. Now, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me get back to my books. Zebras' culture and religion are extraordinarily interesting, and I wish to learn more about it."

I turn my eyes back to the leather-bound pages, but Dash seems persistent. "No, no -- i-it's not as simple as that, Twilight! She screams at anyone who knocks on her door to go away! She even kicked the Cakes out!"

I pause to look at her. That does seem a bit excessive, even for Pinkie, but she is known to go far over the top when she's working on something. "I find it incredibly surprising that you haven't knocked the door down yet. It's only made of wood about a hoof thick and you have been known to crash through, ahem, trees."

I'm still convinced she's just throwing a massive party. I haven't the foggiest why it would be this massive -- and that's the only seed of doubt in my mind -- but Pinkie is somepony who could find party material in a snail's shell.

Rainbow's getting angry now. She doesn't want to lose this argument and look like a fool, just like she did in the previous...oooh, I think now it's...five hundred and forty-three times?

She grabs my cheeks and yanks my head to face hers. "She's got something in the way of the door, or something -- I dunno! Twilight, this is serious!"

"Where did you get the notion that I wasn't being serious?" I demand, frustration stirring inside me. "Dash, I think it's wonderful that you're so concerned about Pinkie's well being, but I think I've made it clear that there is nothing to worry about; this is Pinkie Pie, for crying out loud!"

"More like Pinkamena Pie!" the voice of Spike exclaimed as he entered the room, obviously having been running for quite some time. "Seriously, Twilight, this isn't funny -- Pinkie's got straight hair."

"How do you know?" I ask, but I still get up and start a brisk trot down the hallway. The full force of what he said hasn't quite hit yet, and for that I'm grateful.

The panting dragon seems reluctant to start running again, but he chases after me nonetheless. Fortunately for him, Rainbow throws him onto her back. "There's this door at the back of Sugarcube Corner that leads into the room where all their flour and sugar and stuff is kept, and I think Pinkie forgot to block it, or something...

"But I was able to get through to the front and she was...she was crying, and in the fetal position, and...gah, it's so upsetting to see her like this!" He buries his face into the rainbow mane that belonged to Rainbow Dash.

The bomb finally hits me.

We're approaching Sugarcube Corner, where quite a crowd has formed. My heart is thumping and I know it's not just because of exertion -- far from it, as I'm only going at a reasonable pace, one I could easily keep going for over an hour!

Of course it's not because I'm tired!

The crowd parts for me, as it always does -- only this time I'm grateful for it. Once I get up the steps of Sugarcube Corner, I take a deep breath and shout, "Everypony: Please leave and go back to your homes. I will sort this out."

There are a few whoops and cheers from the gathered ponies, to which I reply with a roll of my eyes. I stand there patiently as they all do as I asked. I take a composing breath to calm myself once they're all gone and lightly knock on the door.

"Pinkie?"

"Go away!" she shrieks.

"Pinkie, i-it's Twilight. Can I come --"

"I said go away!"

"Pinkie, please let me in," I say softly, and she pauses to think for a few seconds. My heart flutters with hope in the silence.

"...Twilight, I don't wanna talk to you right now. Please, just leave." Her voice is much calmer now, and it cracks a few times as she says this; Yep, she's definitely been crying, I think with a heavy heart.

"Okay," I whisper. But I don't leave.

I go round to the back and see that the door that Spike had been talking about was indeed open; he had left it so. I slip in. It's dark inside, but I as my eyes adjust I can make out the outlines of shelves bearing the dry food supplies that need little to be preserved.

It's a small room, so I come to the door leading to the main part of the building pretty quickly. However, there must've been a sharp rock jutting out of the stone steps, for I cut myself as I ascend them and have to bite my lip to stop myself from crying out.

I don't dare try to walk on it. It's hard enough having to gingerly test each wooden floorboard for cracks and creaks as I take each step; I don't need to be ruining the insides of my cheeks while I'm doing so.

It takes me a good few minutes to get to the front, and when I eventually do I freeze; Pinkie's huddled up in the corner furthest away from me, sniffling and rocking back and forth as tears pour from her eyes. Spike was right; her hair is indeed straight. I remember thinking that she looked rather beautiful with straight hair; Now I feel like a terrible princess for ever thinking that this...version of her was in any way a good thing.

All the tiny beams of light let into the room are next to Pinkie -- she's probably steering clear of them so no passersby can peer in and see her --, so for now she can't see me. The second I snap back to reality, however, I clear my throat.

Her head snaps towards me. She leaps up, and -- oh, she looks so scared. Now, I've never been in love before, so I'm not sure how true this is, but I think I'm currently feeling some form of heartbreak.

"Who's there?!" she shouts, jerking her head left and right as she slowly backs towards the nearest door, the one that I know 1) leads to her bedroom, and 2) has a lock on it. I mean, I have magic and all, but I'd rather not use it in this situation.

"It's me, Pinkie," I begin gently. "Please. What's the matter?"

"I-I can't tell you Twilight. You need to go." Her voice breaks and shakes with almost every word.

I think she still can't see where I am, because her eyes are dancing frantically about the place. Before I answer, I silently slip across the room and try to block her escape. However, it's so dark and I'm in such a panicked rush that I don't see her hooves in my path and I trip over, bringing her with me to the ground.

We land with a thump that is mostly caused by me; I took most of the blow and for that I'm glad. She's not crying at the moment, and it'd be best for it to stay that way.

Pinkie gets up almost immediately. "Ohmigosh, Twilight, are you okay?!" The speed of her voice is terribly deceiving; her eyes have begun to water again.

Dammit. "Yeah, I'm fine Pinkie." I'm really not, but...ow...I highly doubt this is the best time for her to pity me.

"You sure? That sounded painful."

"Yeah, I'm sure." I give her a reassuring smile and subtly scoot in front of her bedroom door and gesture for her to sit next to me. "What's the matter with you, though? Why're you hiding away and, more importantly, why are you...Pinkamena?"

She sniffs, wrapping her hooves around my middle. Looking up at me with big, round eyes, she stutters, "T-Twilight, I think I'm...I think I'm...depressed."

Just for clarification that she wasn't completely overreacting, I cautiously ask, "Depressed as in sad, or depressed as in the mental health illness?"

"What do you think?!," she snaps, voice breaking a little. "Look at me: I haven't slept properly in months," she grabs her stomach, "I've been overeating, and worst of all I have no motive to plan parties. Yesterday, I spent five hours lying on my bed, trying to no avail to will myself to get up and plan the CMC's cuteceañera.

"And when I did finally get my lazy flank out of bed and at my desk, I...I got bored. I got bored while organizing an event to make ponies happy." She buries her wet and snotty face in my chest, so when she next speaks her voice is rather muffled. "And then today I woke up like this." She gestures to herself, disgusted.

My hoof is caught in a seemingly eternal cycle of stroking her mane. It's so thin now. "Pinkie, you don't...you don't want to hurt yourself, do you?"

"Nononono, of course not," she half-laughs.

I look at her. "I'm serious, Pinkie: have you thought about self harm or suicide? You need to tell me, honestly."

"No, I haven't." She pauses. "Well, I've thought about it, but I haven't thought about it, y'know? When you're told something major, you're bound to think about it properly at least once. No, I don't wanna hurt or kill myself."

"Pinkie Promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye." This is the happiest she's sounded since I arrived. I still wouldn't classify it as joyful, but it's an improvement nonetheless.

We sit in silence for a while. "What do you want to do about it?"

"...I don't know; I've kinda been thinking about that since I got up." She scratches her neck. "I guess I wanted to keep it to myself, but I've got such a busy job and now you know, so goodbye to that idea. I do want to see a therapist. I hate being this way and I kinda hate myself."

"Crap, Pinkie, how long have you been feeling like this?" I ask, starting to feel scared and concerned at the same time. "I mean, surely this isn't just surfacing now?!"

"Nope, you're right, it isn't." She blows out air through the 'o' she's created with her lips. "I only came to terms with it last night. All this," she picks up a lock of her hair, "only happens when I consciously discover something that's making me drastically unhappy, and like I said: I woke up like this."

Her voice is almost monotonous. If I couldn't see her lips moving in time with her speech, I would've thought she was her sister. Unconsciously, I wrap my hooves around her and pull her close. This is making me realise just how much she means to me.

"Do you want me to take you to the hospital right now?" I say weakly. "You don't need to worry about the cost; I'll pay for the therapy sessions. I've got too many bits anyway."

"Thanks, Twilight. I love you." I can feel fat salty tears dropping in between my wings.

"I love you too, Pinkie Pie."

Author's Note

Constructive criticism, or just criticism in general, is something I really want and need, especially with a topis like this. Comment away, my lovely readers!:derpytongue2:

Bandaids

"Do you have any idea what's going on with Pinkie?"

Spike shakes his head. "How could I? I'm guessing it's really bad though. Why? You have any ideas?"

I shrug. "Maybe her secret coltfriend left her or something." I crack a smile. "Which reminds me: has Big Mac said anything about me?"

He chuckles. "He barely talks at all. I almost forgot you two were dating! But I know he's really into you. He smiles every time I talk about you."

I feel myself blush. I hate blushing. "And you? I'm gonna have to tell Big Mac you asked about him. I'd hate to let him down by having no reply from you, so spill."

I punch him lightly. "You know, it's kinda freaky how easily you can get me to talk about these things." I pause to scratch my neck. How do I feel about Big Mac? "Eh, he's cool. I do like him a lot."

"Wow, I should write that one down. So complex and inspiring; it could become a famous quote in the future." He resists the urge to laugh.

"Shut up." I grin, proceeding to stifle a laugh myself. We're approaching his castle now. "Hey, mind if I come over to the Castle of Friendship? I wanna hang, but I also wanna be there when Twi gets back."

"Sure."

He pushes the doors open. "So: who's Rarity dating right now?"

Spike rolls his eyes at me. "Do you always have to ask me that? You know how much I like her."

I shrug. "Never gonna happen, dude. I'm sorry, but it's not."

"I know," he grumbles. "Last I heard, she's going out with Time Turner."

"Oh yeah. I remember Muffins telling me she and him broke up." I grimace. "Poor gal.”

We're in the throne room now. While my throne and Spike's throne are conveniently next to each other, Twilight's is closer so I sit on hers. "Are there any guy secrets that I need to know? I wanna plan a date for me and Big Mac. Y'know: a not awkward one."

"Not really. You're into stallion’s stuff anyway. You're sure to come up with something he likes."

"Woah, careful there, Spike. You don't wanna help me too much." I sink a bit further into Twilight's throne. "Ugh, this is so frustrating!"

"I thought you said you'd dated before?" Spike arches a cocky eyebrow at me.

"Yeah: mares! It's so much easier to tell what they like! I understand them better! They understand me better!"

"Ugh, tell me about it." He folds his arms. "I've tried flirting with fillies besides Rarity, and it just doesn't work." He laughs. "Turns out they don't all want chocolate and flowers."

"Yeah, no offense, but I’m guessing that's just because you're a dragon."

Spike seemed unimpressed. "Yeah, no offense, but saying no offense doesn't excuse racism."

"I'm not being racist! They're the ones being racist!"

He puts his claw to his forehead in an exasperated manner. "It's still offensive!"

I roll my eyes. I start to think of a comeback, but then I hear the doors downstairs open. "Twilight?" I call out and, sure enough, moments later she comes trotting up the steps. She looks kinda surprised to see us both.

"Hey Rainbow, hey Spike," she breathes as she makes her way over to where I'm sitting in a weird sort of way. It's kinda limping, but it also looks like she's trying so hard not to be seen that she's tensing up –

"Hey!" I laugh as Twilight levitates me out of her throne ― oh, right, it's hers. She carelessly drops me midair, which makes me wonder what's going through her brain. She's gotta be distracted; she's trying so hard to pretend that she's the perfect embodiment of friendship nowadays. I kinda miss her being clumsy and awkward.

"Hey, what's up?" I raise an eyebrow at her, and then she blinks as if she's only just woken up.

"S-sorry, what?" She rubs her eyes. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Spike says, getting up to be closer to his sisterly figure. Twilight massages her forehead, then sits forward, smiling, but ending up grimacing..

"Pinkie's depressed."

Silence.

"Oh," is all I can say.

She runs a hoof through her disheveled mane. "Yeah."

All of a sudden, it hits Spike with full force. "Oh Celestia, is she alright?" He sounds...scared, almost.

"Yep." She sounds kinda dismal too. "I just took her to the hospital."

That's the thing that makes it finally break through. Shit, shit, shit!

"She'll be back in a half hour or so. I'm gonna pick her up."

I'm sweating now. Cold sweat. My mane's sticking to the back of my neck. It sort of feels like I'm having a panic attack. Maybe I am having a panic attack. Everything's so surreal now: how can Pinkie Pie, Pinkie Pie, be depressed?!

Twilight blows out some air through her near-sealed lips. "In the meantime, Spike, can you go and get me every single book on depression and psychology that we own, please?"

Spike salutes in an attempt to lighten the mood, then runs out the room. He's shaking. I know he's shaking. I know what a shaky run looks like, and that's the sort of run he's running right now.

I make a split-second decision to hug Twilight. Celestia, I feel childish. Hugs are the sort of things that lull you into a false sense of security when you most need it. Now is definitely one of those times. I need it, and I'm pretty sure Twilight needs it too.

I think I'm hugging too tight. I think I'm gonna cry. I'm gonna cry. I'm gonna ― I'm crying. I'm crying. I bury my muzzle into Twilight's shoulder, and I can feel her doing the same, only her cheeks aren't wet ― how the hell is she holding up so well?! This is Twilight, for Celestia's sake!
I can hear the squeaking of wheels, and I turn round to see Spike running in, pushing some sort of handtruck book-carrier that is stacked to the maximum with fat, leather-bound parchment.

I dive into the book on top, before Twilight can even ignite her horn. I don't care if it's boring. Part of me needs to know.

Twilight has that Haycarte's method thing she keeps blabbing on about, so of course she devours twice as much as me and Spike in half the time, but I feel like I'm getting somewhere so it doesn't matter.

There's an edge of boredom in my brain, but I ignore it. So, you get depressed when you have a lack of this, this, this chemical in your brain, called, um...crap. I turn back a page. Serotonin, yeah, that's right. It's a...neurotransmitter, and when it passes from one brain cell to another, it, it gets sucked back to –

I blink. Why the hell am I learning the science of how you get depressed? Who cares about the science of it? The reason Pinkie's depressed is because something is making her feel bad about herself, right? Really bad!

She doesn't need to know the freaking science of it. She needs to have that something fixed, or to have bigger, better things that outweigh it. And, all of a sudden, I am struck with an awesome idea. I don't even know how or why it came to me, but it's great nonetheless.

I announce it to Spike and Twilight, who both agree with me on its amazingness, and then I soar out of the room, down the crystal steps, out the doors and navigate myself towards Carousel Boutique.

Rarity is surprised to see me, needless to say. I never visit her.

"What can I do for you, darling?" she says as I trot past her standing in the doorway.

"Pinkie's depressed," I state clearly, opting to get it out the right away.

Her brow creases. "Oh, the poor dear."

"Yeah." I look down. "So anyway: I was wondering if maybe you could do something for her."

"Like...?" she prompts.

"Like..." I search for the words. "Something artsy, or fashion-y. Y'know how much she loves it when you get a hooficure, and she absolutely adores all the dresses you make for her. I was thinking that maybe...because she kinda has straight hair now and her coat is a lot darker, maybe you could...I dunno...give her a makeover or something."

She thinks about it. I reckon she's already got an answer, but she's just trying to process the situation as well. "That's a great idea, darling!"

"It is?"

"Of course!"

Phew! Seriously, with the amount of times that I've been humiliating myself in front of my friends lately, it's a miracle that I'm not the one with depression.

Author's Note

Yep, Rainbow is gonna be That Character in this story. I'm sorry.