Author's Note

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Chapter Six: Home

Where was home, really.

For me, home was a place surrounded by saltwater and tuna. I didn't know much about Equestria in general, even before the war. Most of my travel opportunities were strictly military-funded. The undying memories stabbed me somewhere soft. I stayed quiet, alone with my thoughts.

I didn't even notice the door was open.

That's when somepony walked in.

"Glass...? What are you doin' with that teddy bear?"

I knew who's voice it was. Same smooth jumps in inflection. Same brogue. And same alcoholic musk clinging to her coat. Bruise had seen me gazing into that toy. I couldn't rip my eyes away. Not even once.

"I'm... just being nostalgic, is all." I answered, gently setting it atop her mattress.

"If you need to talk, Glass... I'm here. Really." She soothed, trotting over till we could touch each other.

What could a buck do but hide his feelings. I didn't know what to say. Or what to think. How did someone articulate grief. Grief was a complicated process. The way we all dealt with it was chaotic and unique to the proposed individual. I was no different. I answered best I could in the cold melancholy.

"I just miss my daughter." I answered, averting my eyes.

Daughter. That was a word I hasn't used in a while. When Bruise came over to hold me, tears swelling in her eyes, I held her too. Sure she was comforting. Sure it was paradise pressed against her, thick with Lily July on her lips. But I felt vulnerable. For the past few days, I'd spent all my time trying to be strong and acting tough. I fought to protect the people I had. But, I'd forgotten I was mortal. My missing foreleg would stay missing my entire life. I forgot that I could bleed.

Yesterday, and then subsequently that morning, I realized what I was missing.

"Everyday I reported back to base camp, I thought about her. Her and my wife. I wasn't always... this." I started, nuzzling her neck.

"I used to be normal. White picket fences. Comic books. That used to be my life, you know. Used to be that I would fight on the frontlines and come back to my quarters and talk with my baby in Canterlot. I knew the risk of having a child. Especially in the capital. But I was stupid, you know..."

I stamped the ground beneath me in pain. I tried not to gnash my teeth. But my eyes were stabbing my head. The tears were razors dipped in rubbing alcohol. I did my best to not sniffle or sob. I wasn't ready to cry.

"She used... she used to smile every time we called. Every single time I heard her voice, I forgot all about the injuries. All the screams and limbs being blown off. I forgot because- I had-! I had someone important to look after..."

Fuck. Why was I shaking.

"Halfway through my second tour, I... I got a call that someone had taken them away. Kidnapped. I couldn't leave formally. And the military didn't have any way to support me. The bears took my wife and child. Just because I was a marine. They took them away and sent photos to my house."

I fell into a deep trance. And I stared off, transfixed in the memory of seeing them all... mangled. Sometimes, in pieces. Sometimes, under two or three bears. The thought of all that pain bled my eyes. I felt the tears streaming, but nothing else could catch my attention. I felt my legs go limp.

"Glass... No matter what happens, you made it. You really did, bucko..."

"I know," I answered, trembling everywhere, barely able to light my smoke.

"I just wake up sometimes... thinking: why wasn't it me? What did I ever do to deserve them. I used to believe in good. I never even thought of killing for money. But time can bring you down."

We held each other close for an hour. Maybe longer. I couldn't tell, really. The time we spent together had patched most of the immediate lacerations deep down. It was just my years alone that opened the scars. When I woke up, fizzy and lightheaded, I found us tangled together by the legs. I wasn't surprised by the feeling of my sheathe against her coat. After I quit the marines, I fell into the same problem she had.

What else was I supposed to do but drown myself in booze and sex and violence.

Bruise had snuggled up with me and the teddy between her hindlegs. Probably to separate us where it counted, even if us shifting slid it out of place. When I saw her eyelashes flutter, I realized why I'd wanted to take care of her. I knew somehow, somewhere, Bruise reminded me of a brat without a castle. I realized why she belonged in my life. And why I belonged in her's.

She slept heavily, clinging to her teddy bear and pressing against me.

I remembered her warmth and fell asleep against her, my pincess without a castle.

My new chance at home.