Cold.
He has never felt so cold before. He's crouching in front of a lit fireplace, wrapped up in warm, cozy blankets, yet all heat seems to have escaped his body.
He feels alone, so dreadfully alone. They both do, feeling like not a single being in the universe could ever bear their existence anymore.
Gosh, if he's feeling like that, what about her? He at least is used to being rejected, to being spat at. The first years of college, the worst, were the ones during which he became tough as nails, flying through it like a fly through a dormer, with patience, control, family support, and a LOT of appointments to the psychologist's.
She hasn't got any of this: no experience to rely on, no loving family to carry her on; plus she's way younger than he was at the time, and the small life growing inside her only adds more pressure in this situation. Overall, her state of mind must be along the lines of "dramatically depressed".
They have few options now. Coming out clean did not do as much damage as he had dreaded, but still, staying in town would be suicide at that point.
They have to flee. Just for a few weeks, one or two months perhaps, in a town, a village, a cottage even, as long as they're not immediately thrown out and signaled to the police or guards.
Suddenly he remembers. One day, during one of his well-known over-drinking sessions, he had heard his trainer talk about a place, special in many ways, where every being was welcome to stay. "By the sea" had he said, "there's this place where every and anypony, no matter the species, can be found doing stuff of all sorts. Pretty nice for young rebels or colts looking for adventure like you."
To think this bastard was once his friend and confident...
But if wasn't joking back then (he was drunk as Stalliongrad's weather team on a New Year's Eve, and had said that to entertain him more than anything), then it means that he has just found a safe heaven for them two, if only for some time. Hopefully it won't last longer than that.
He just needs Up to be awake, and then off they'll go.
He looks down at her sleeping form, her calm, deep and even breathing comforting him in a way he always finds himself enjoying. Her youth, so endearing to his eyes, didn't stop her from being the toughest of them, and so more than once. In the face of what was so suddenly being thrown at them, she stood strong, determined no to let harm come to the pony she loves, and to protect their growing baby (babies? If only it could be...). Now she's in a deep slumber, a well-earned rest she only let herself get after being abolutely certain they were safe.
As he's watching his most significant other, praising whatever god(s) there is/are for having given him the opportunity to even meet such a wonderful filly, Winter can't help but wonder, with a growing sense of disappointement in himself and of fear of the upcoming future;
What if he had stood sober that night?
