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                  It's All You Have Left                   
                        -by RayCon-                        
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                          The End                          
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The End
It’s All You Have Left
Time….
A wonderful and valuable resource that always runs out in the end. Many don’t get enough of it to enjoy all of the things that they want to in life. Some have too much, and waste it on pointless pursuits of untouchable dreams. Few complete what life has planned out for them, but in the end, the reward is great.
This is not the tale of the great or the unfortunate, but of the ones who don’t get enough.
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Clockwork walked down the streets of Ponyville, admiring the scenery that he had never noticed until today. Something was off about the whole day, he couldn’t place his hoof on it. It had been going well, too well in fact. He had just gotten an order for a few expensive watches from a wealthy pony in Canterlot a few hours ago. He was eager to begin working on them, but he wanted to take a walk in the park before he threw all of his effort into doing the best job he could on them so the pony would recommend them to his friends, and he would gain popularity.
The wind flowed through his graying-light brown mane and rustling his well groomed turquoise coat, and sending a chill down to his flank which was adorned by a pocket watch cutie mark. The shiver faded but it made him feel like something was going to go wrong with his day.
No way in Tartarus am I gonna let anything disturb my wonderful day today. He thought to himself as he walked towards his shop. I want to get at least the casings complete today so I can go home a bit early.
Clockwork sat down at his workbench and fired up his horn, cleaning up his work space so that he could locate everything he needed to complete the task at hoof. Sitting down on his bench, he opened a chest which held all of the instructions that the pony had given him. It was going to be a big order, but he knew that it was well within his skill level.
More magic pushed through his horn and metal and tools floated over to his station, all within hooves reach. Metal, check. Tools, check. A bit of enthusiasm? Check. He thought to himself, chuckling all the while.
The record machine in the corner began to play, “The World Is a Beautiful Place And I’m No Longer Afraid To Die” by the well known HoofBeats. It always brought a few tears to his eyes around the third song but he enjoyed it nevertheless.
The sweet melody began to weave it’s way into his work, and as time seemed to slow, his magic bent and carved metal in intricate ways to create the most beautiful thing watch casing he had ever created.
Where did this come from? He thought in excitement as he looked at the metal before him. This is beautiful!
He put the casing in the box and brought out the next sheet of metal and the music began to play again, weaving his mind and the love for his work into the watch. A few tears slipped down his muzzle as he again looked at the masterpiece that lay before him. I did not know I could create such work as I have created today! He thought, his eyes goggling at the gem of his life sitting before him.
A few more tears crept out of his eyes as he heard the lyrics of the song that was playing.
“When the days shine bright, and the eager of strife has been so lost in the night so cold. The greatest masterpiece of a craftsman’s work shall come before his fall.”
A gasp came from Clockwork as he wondered what was going to happen to him now that he had created the most beautiful masterpiece of his life.
The epiphany faded as he realized what he was thinking about. Are you kidding me? I’ve got my whole life ahead of me and yet I’m sitting here thinking about this? He chuckled nervously and went back to working on molding the glass.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~!_!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dust Shine lay on the hospital cot, hooked up to multiple different machines that he didn’t recognize. The respirator over his muzzle prevented him from talking, not like he could anyway.
The sheet attached to the end of his bed indicated the condition and what had happened. ‘Critical’ and ‘Carriage Accident’ were the labels on each of them.
It had all happened so fast that he was reliving it each time he tried to think about, anything. Tears streamed from his eyes and a cringing feeling crept into his stomach as he thought about what his parents would do when they got here.
In fact, the main reason he didn’t know where he was, is because he wasn’t conscious. He was in a sort of a dream world. Dust could sense what was going on around him but he couldn’t see anything. Just the screams of the carriage driver and pain. So much pain. Even know he could feel the dulled pain that covered his entire body. What he would give to see his parents, to apologize for not staying inside.
Dust knew that he was getting what he deserved, but he didn’t think this would be the consequence. His parents were going to be so upset, if he ever woke up.
“I don’t know if there’s any more we can do for him Mr. and Mrs. Shine.” A voice said, he heard sobbing coming from what sounded like his parents. Another knife in his chest twisting in anguish at what they must be feeling. “The thing is, I don’t know if I can keep this life support going. He’s unconscious and unresponsive to anything we’ve tried.”
“THEN TRY HARDER DAMNIT!” A voice screamed, his fathers, at the poor nurse. “THAT’S MY SON! I WILL PAY WHATEVER IT COSTS!” The emotion in his voice was enough to identify that his father loved him, very much so.
Hooves shuffled uncomfortably, probably the nurse. “I will get the head doctor.” She said, the sound of her hooves growing softer and softer. “I will see what we can do. It may be futile, but we can at least try.” Then she was gone.
The sobbing continued as warm bodies came in contact with his, the hot tears streaming down their faces and onto his beaten and broken body. Dust knew that he had done wrong, and it was causing his parents pain and strife. But after all maybe they could find a solution to help him.
“Little one,”  A voice said inside his head, “I know why you are sorrowful for causing your parents such anguish over your actions that could have been prevented, but you must understand that you will not make it out of this. No matter what happens, I will be here for you when you are ready to leave.”
“Are you joking?” Dust Shine said, looking around him to try and find the source, “I’m not leaving my parents. They are going to be able to help me get better.” He didn’t know where the determination that was strong in his voice came from, but he knew he might be able to get the upperhand.
“Do you understand you were hit by a carriage?” The voice said, a hint of anger creeping into it’s voice. “Your body is so crippled that, had the paramedics not gotten there, you would have died.”
Dust Shine looked shocked, had he really been that lucky yet so foalish? “So,” a tear rolled down the side of his face, “I am going to die?”
The voice huffed but it had a note of sadness when it spoke next, “Unfortunately for you, yes.” I felt a pressure across my back, similar to a hoofprint, “Do not be sad little one. For people you know will be joining you soon enough.”
“Could I ask a favor before I go with you?” Dust Shine said, a pleading look on his face.
“Of course Dust Shine.” The voice said, leaning in close.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~#<@>#~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clockwork sat on the hospital cot where the body of his son lay. Tears had long since failed him as a way to express his sadness. It morphed into an ever-growing pit of depression and sadness, the likes of which he had never seen. No mother or father should have to bury one of their children.
“What are we going to do?” He said out loud, “when this is all over?”
Any sign of their son coming back from the comatose state had long been abandoned. They had just sat there stroking Dust’s khaki colored coat and light green mane, all the while praying that he might survive this. They knew they were grasping for straws and that he might never live to see the next day.
A few seconds later, he broke eye contact with his wife and began to stroke his son’s mane, he noticed something odd. Dust’s breathing had increased slightly, making the heartbeat monitor beep a bit faster.
As if defying all logic and reason, Dust Shine’s indigo colored eyes opened. And they were staring him straight in the face.
“D-d-dust?” His father stammered out, still not believing what he was seeing. “I-i-is t-t-that-t y-y-you?” His once empty tear ducts began to overflow again, tears streamed down his face. “I can’t believe you are alive!”
“Dad,” Dust said calmly, apparently oblivious to what was going on around him. “I have something to tell you. I’m not going to live. I asked the god or whoever to see my parents one more time and he let me, but only for a few minutes. I just wanted to say I was sorry for not doing what you told me and there is a box underneath my bed I want you to have. There was a catch however, when I finish talking to you and when my time runs out, I’m going to slowly and painfully die.” He said, switching between his mom and dad.
They were speechless, their son was going to die but, he had come back just to see them. His father opened his mouth to speak but, something stopped him. They just stared at him with wide open mouths and a shocked look on their faces.
“Are you guys okay?” Dust asked them, a slight twinge of pain on his neck letting him know that his time is winding down. “Look I came back here to say sorry and I did so, I might just go.” He hoped this would get a reaction out of them, but it failed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. For Fausts sake, SAY SOMETHING!” His hoof slammed down on the table beside the cot, breaking it into splinters of wood. Yet it elicited no reaction from his parents. I bargained with a god to see my parents one last time and they pull this stunt?! His mind was raging, but it suddenly stopped as he felt a pain creeping up his back left hoof. Well my time is coming. He thought it wouldn’t be that painful but was he wrong.
Suddenly, it felt like somepony was driving the head of a pickaxe up his back leg and towards his head. He screamed like all Tartarus was after him. That sent that part of the hospital into a frenzy. The nurse that had been assigned to Dust’s room galloped in and shock crossed her face.
“It can’t be!” She said, stepping back. “How did you….. What is going on!” She yelled at his parents. They just turned their heads, the look of shock still present on their faces, and looked at her.
Dust didn’t notice any of this. The excruciating pain that had only been on his leg, had now crept up to his lower abdomen, increasing steadily the more body it consumed. His body was racked with spasms and convulsions, all the while unearthly shrieking and howling was coming from his mouth. He was trying not die by sensory overload but his body was slowly tearing itself apart from the inside out.
The hallways outside of Dust’s treatment room were in total chaos. Nurses running back and forth trying to calm the disturbed patients and doctors trying to figure out what happened. All the while his parents were petrified.
Clockwork was the first to shake the shock of his son being alive and jump to help Dust and alleviate him of his pain. “Dust please!” His father pleaded with him to stop shrieking. “I want to tell you something.”
Dust’s body went limp as a nurse jabbed a needle in his leg, the fluid acting quickly to soothe the pain he was in and stop the convulsions. “Shout if he does this again, or it may lead to his death.”
Clockwork didn’t have the heart to tell her Dust was already going to die, no matter what they did to help him. “Dust, look here.”
Dust’s once indigo colored eyes were replaced by grey orbs that stared seamlessly up at his father. “Dad? Is that you?” His hooves reached out and touched his father’s muzzle, then dropped them back onto the cot.
“Son, I’m sorry for what happened. I- I mean we, your mother and I, thought we had lost you.” Clockwork began, cradling his son’s head in his hooves. “I don’t know what came over myself but I apologize. I just wanted, before you go, to tell you that your mother and I love you very much.” Rose, Dust Shine’s mother, nodded, tears streaming down her face and falling with a soft patter on the cot.
“I-i-i-i l-l-love you Dust.” Rose choked out, Dust turned towards his mother and stroked her pink and blue mane.
A hacking cough came from Dust as he choked out his last breaths, “Dad, mom. Come close, I want to tell you something.” Another round of coughs racked his already damaged and broken body. “Stay strong for me, live your lives and never forget me.”
Dust’s last warm breath escaped his lungs. His head falling back onto the pillow as the machines began beeping.
Clockwork and Rose leaned on each other’s shoulders and cried. “He’s gone! Why?!” Rose wailed, shaking a hoof at the heavens.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~#!$!#~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Months had passed since Clockwork and Rose’s beloved son Dust Shine had been killed in a carriage accident. They tried to accept that their son was gone but too many reminders stayed behind to make them remember what had happened.
His room, gaming system, and clothes that he almost never wore. Every time that Clockwork or Rose saw them, they broke down into uncontrollable sobbing that would last hours. Even with their significant other helping them through the pain.
“I just want to get over this!” Rose had yelled in anguish one day while they were reclining after dinner. “It’s not fair.”
That had been over a month ago, and the pain never seemed to dull. It never ceased to exist, but returning stronger each time it was brought back to the surface.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~%*&*%~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There came one day when the pain finally snapped the sanity of Rose.
She could bear it no longer, she couldn’t stand looking or thinking about Dust or anything that reminded her about him. “I’M DONE!” She yelled down the hallway of her empty home, tears streaming down her face and staining her fur.
She wandered aimlessly down a hallway and unlocking the basement and began the descent into the unlit and musty depths. “Now where is it?” She rummaged through a few boxes and found what she was looking for.
Rope.
She quickly tied the knot she had practiced so many times in the last few months. The pain had been growing stronger ever since she had happened to trot by the abandoned sandbox that Dust had always played in.
Tying the loose end to the reinforced pipe that brought water to their home, she slipped the noose over her neck and said a silent prayer to Faust to rest her soul in her eternal embrace.
Then she kicked the box out from under herself. Her body reacted by trying to wiggle out of the noose, but it was too tight. Her body jerked and twitched.
Blackness began to encroach on the edges of her vision and her last thought was of Dust.
“I’m coming to see you.” Her empty lungs, pushed out one last breath.
The only sound left was the slight creaking of the rope against the pipe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(_@^@_)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clockwork put the finishing touches on the faceplate of the watch he had finished crafting. The last one he had finished was a masterpiece of the highest quality.
He wanted Dust to be proud of him for not forgetting him. He had a picture of him a few months before his accident, hanging above his workstation.
Extinguishing the lights with his magic, he closed the door behind him and locked it. I wonder what Rose has cooked for dinner today. I don’t think it could top what she made last night. He thought, walking through the early summer night. The smell of grass and wildflowers soothed him as he walked.
Arriving a few minutes later at his house he opened the door, which seemed odd to him because Rose always locked it when he was not home. Odd.
“Rose? Rose!” He called out, expecting her to answer like she always did. “Honey where are y…” The words died in his mouth when he noticed the open basement door. “Oh no.”
He teleported down the steps, fearing the worst for Rose. What he saw made him begin to cry.
There was his wife, connected to the water pipe by a necklace of rope. The dam of feelings he had been holding back broke.
He cried and went over to his wife, holding her cold, lifeless body in his hooves. No sooner than he had finished crying he teleported upstairs and took a knife from the rack that was used to prepare food for the consumption of those who lived in the house.
He chose his wife’s favorite, a slender handle with a serrated and razor sharp blade. He stood beside her and jammed the knife as far as it could go into his chest.
He cried out in pain, writing on the ground in an ever growing pool of his blood.
As his eyelids began to close for the very last time, he uttered with his final breath a name.
“Dust Shine, my son.”