I sat in the hospital waiting room, feeling worse than I had ever felt before. And I wasn’t talking about the hangover that was rampaging through my skull.
I’d never told Octavia that I’d been in the war. Hay, I even lied about how old I was so that she thought I was too young to have been in it…
I couldn’t sit still for long, I paced back and forth, trying to think of something, anything to fix the situation. A thought popped into my head, and I hesitated. Should I…should I tell her? Maybe, if I told her, she’d be able to someday forgive me… if she lived, that is. I sat down heavily and sighed. She was in surgery now, and the doctors told me they were in for a long night. Maybe even through the day if it was too bad.
I looked down at my hooves in shame. I could still see the blood on my hooves. It wasn’t physically there, nopony else could see it, but I could. I’d tried to scrub it off, but no amount of hot water and soap made any difference, no magic took any of it off.
I wasn’t too surprised. I’d had blood on my hooves ever since that day… that horrible, horrible day…
Heartbeat. Heartbeat. Heartbeat. Fast, too fast. Adrenaline. Enemy? Where? Gotta kill. Gotta kill or be killed. Don’t want to be killed. Gotta kill. Gotta-
Gunfire. Where? No, hide. Hidden. Now where? Found. Gotta kill. Aim, trigger, pull. Fire. Bullets. Enemy? Killed. Safe. No. More enemies. Gotta kill or be killed. Wait.
A moment of clarity. My animalistic trance is broken. What are these corpses? No… Oh, no, please let this be a dream. These are foals! Foals with guns! What kind of…
I killed them. Enemies or not, these are foals… and I killed them… what have I done? No, no, no, that’s blood. There’s blood. Why is there blood? All over my hooves… It won’t wipe off. Why isn’t it coming off?
They’ve found me. I stayed put too long. Those young eyes, staring directly into mine, yet so clouded… Those eyes will kill me without hesitation-
Gunfire. Dodge to the side. Instincts, reaction. Stay alive. Bullets. Return fire. Corpses, blood. Foals dying. Hooves coated in blood, more blood. Gotta kill or be killed. Gotta kill. More blood. More corpses. Gotta kill-
I woke up, gasping for breath. I slid off the chair, stumbled, then galloped for the nearest bathroom. I threw the door open with my magic, then flicked it shut behind me. For the second time in so many hours, the taste of acid and bile forced itself through my mouth. I sat there, shuddering, occasionally forced forward as more came up.
“Thought I’d find you here.”
“Wh…wha?” I turned my head, seeing the outline of somepony in white. A glow from the pony’s horn enveloped the light switch, which flicked on. A male, caramel-colored unicorn with brown hair was revealed. I saw the white doctor’s garb, and I paled. I knew him.
“Doctor Horse…” I groaned internally, averting my eyes. He’d been the field medic for my troop during the war… and he’d helped me with my PTSD after it was over.
“Look at me,” he ordered. I hesitantly raised my eyes to his. He was giving me a look so stern, I was surprised he was keeping his tone civil. “Explain yourself.”
Horseapples. “Um…” I looked away, spitting into the toilet, trying to clear my mouth out.
“Scratch!” I paled as he raised his voice. “You know just as well as I do that those wounds are the very same you learned to deal out in boot camp. Explain what happened to her, now.”
“…I…”
His magic enveloped me, forcing me upright, and he leaned in close, getting in my face. “You want me to get some authorities in here? I’m sure they could get the story out of you. Or, better yet, how about I go grab Master Chief? I’m sure he’d love to hear what one of his old recruits has done.”
“Doc, wait! I-”
“You what?! You administered anti-Earth Pony tactics on a civilian, going so far as to use a bucking time-slow spell to overpower her, beating her within an inch of her life?! You tell me what happened, and you do it now, Scratch!”
My tears fell steadily to the floor. “I had another episode…” I sobbed weakly.
He released the magic, a look of surprise flitting across his face for a brief moment. “Go on,” he ordered, his voice slightly more controlled.
I sniffled. “I… I saw it again. The battlefield. The… the foals.”
The cyan eyes boring into me softened considerably.
“I-it seemed so real. I was confused, disoriented… then I saw somepony coming for me. Masked. Carrying a gun. I panicked…And I was beating the pony… and then the mask slipped, and I-I saw that it was h-her…” I was reduced to stuttering and crying, I couldn’t go on anymore.
“Er, Scr-… Vinyl. Please let go of me.”
I opened my tear-filled eyes. I quickly realized that I’d unconsciously hugged his legs. I stammered and backpedaled, slipping on the small puddle my tears had made. I fell, and my head hit the toilet I’d been throwing up into on the way down. Stars danced in my vision, and then my head hit the ground.
“Vinyl! Are you alright?”
I struggled to my hooves, shaking my head as Doc Horse reached to help me. “I’m fine. It’s… It’s just a scratch.”
“Vinyl, your head is bleeding.”
I laughed, an empty, hollow sound. “Let it.”
Doc Horse looked me over, sizing up my injury, and probably my mental state. “Come on,” he said gently, “Let’s go to my office. I’ll patch you up…and we can talk more about what happened.”
He didn’t seem nearly as angry as he had been, but I could still hear traces of hardness in his voice. I knew I deserved it, though. I nodded my head solemnly. Flushing my bile away, I went to the sink and rinsed my mouth out a bit. My head low, I followed after the Doc.
“…You went to a bar? Vinyl!”
“Doc, listen… I’ve been drinking for years. Not that I’m a raging alcoholic! I’m used to it. But, I…I don’t know. It’s a bit fuzzy… I was drinking heavy last night, heavier than… well, ever.”
“Why would you do that?”
I plunked my head on the desk we were sitting at. “Octavia and I…kind of had a fight.”
“Wait, beforehand? You know the mare?”
I nodded. “Octavia and I… we’re…roommates.” I sighed.
He raised a questioning eyebrow. “You sound unhappy about that.”
I groaned. “Yup,” I mumbled.
“Then why haven’t you found yourself new accommodations?”
“Wha? No, no, it’s not that I don’t like Octy. No way.”
“’Octy’?”
I blushed. “Ah, I mean, Octavia.”
Doc Horse nodded. “I think I see, now, what you’re trying to avoid saying.”
I flinched. “I’m not avoiding anything!”
He gave me a skeptical look. “Other than the fact that you enjoy her company more than usual?”
Shoot.
“Anyway, continue your story.”
“R-right,” I said sheepishly. “Um. So, like I said, Octavia and I got in a fight, and I went out to go…well… drink it off. After that… it’s not really clear.”
“I see…” he mused. “The excess of alcohol must have triggered it… I suppose I can’t blame you for your episode.” He paused. “But, I fear Octavia, if she recovers, might.”
I twitched at that word. If.
“Can I…” I hesitated. “Can I see her?”
Doc Horse shook his head. “She’s still in surgery. I was in there earlier, and…” He paused like he was choosing his words carefully. “It is likely going to take a while longer. You should go home, get yourself some rest.
“What? Are you nuts? No way! I gotta stay here to be with her.”
“No offense… but you’re simply just taking up space, and causing yourself unnecessary anxiety. And I imagine that hangover you’ve got isn’t treating you kindly, especially with that head injury of yours.”
I really couldn’t argue, and my head kinda did hurt, a lot. “I… Okay. Thanks for everything, I guess.”
“Stay out of trouble, Vinyl. And definitely stay off the alcohol.”
Good old Doc, medic to the end. No hellos, no goodbyes, but medical advice from here to Timbucktu. I left his office, and somehow managed to find the exit to the giant maze of a building.
Walking home was… not fun. Especially when I passed the spot where the whole thing happened. There was a big bloodstain on the ground… I tried not to look at it. I made my way home as fast as I could.
I opened the door to our little shared house. It wasn’t much, but it was home…
Though, it didn’t feel much like it. It was too quiet. Too empty. I sighed and opened the door to my bedroom.
I groaned when I saw the mess. Trash and empty bottles of alcohol everywhere, as usual. I picked up one suck discarded bottle, taking a whiff. The smell of whiskey assaulted me, and I held it back from my face. “Ugh…” I set it down on my desk, which was similarly covered in bottles. I stared at it, thinking.
“...You… You caused this,” I said. I picked the bottle back up. “You took her away. How dare you? How dare you?!” My hoof trembled. “I hate you!"
With a sudden movement, I threw the bottle against the wall. Glass shards rained down on the floor. I was breathing heavily. “I hate you all!” I screamed.
My horn glowed a dark, angry blue as every bottle in my room rose with my power. “I hate you! And you! And you, and you, and you! Every one of you!” With every word, another bottle smashed against the wall. My room was filled with the steady sound of the shattered glass falling to the floor.
I was about to hurl another bottle, when I realized it was heavier than the others - there was something in it. Lowering it in front of me, I recognized it as a bottle of wine. Pinot Noir, not my usual style. Why was it in here?
It was then that I noticed the tag around the neck. I opened it, and read the scrawled writing of mine. “For you, Tavi, the most beautiful mare in the world.”
Every bottle my magic was holding dropped instantly as my anger disappeared, save for the wine. I ignored the loud smashing, and cleared a path to my bed. I curled up, still holding the long-forgotten Hearts and Hooves Day present, and cried.
