Chapter 17: Man Down

"And these words, they don't come easy, and they don't come loud, so you'll never notice, screaming man down..."

Braeburn woke up in a cold sweat. The room was dark, except for a lone candle on the desk. A box full of photos lay open, and Braeburn narrowed his eyes. This was familiar. There was a knock on the window, and Braeburn’s heart skipped a beat. He trotted over, praying to Celestia that this wasn’t what he thought it was. He opened the window, and an ever familiar pegasus flew into the room. “Darin’... what-”

She didn’t seem to hear him, flying over to the table. “Darin’ … couldn’t this wait until mornin’?”

Something clicked in his mind as Daring jumped into an explanation. This happened almost two years ago. As he looked over his old friend, the feeling was bittersweet. It was nice to see her again, in a way, but he had let her go. So why was she still here?

“I want you to come with me, Brae.”

A thought crossed his mind. What if he could change the past? Then he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain and tears of the past few years. “Aw hay, why not?”

Daring frowned at him. “You can’t change the past, Brae. I thought you’d know that by now.”

“Worth a shot.”

There was a sharp crack, and he doubled over with pain as if he had just been shot at point-blank range. The candle went out and the room plunged into darkness.

xXx

Braeburn shot up in his bead. Another crack of thunder sounded from outside. “Stupid dream,” he muttered, getting up. He rubbed his chest. It still felt like he had been shot in the heart, a burning deep inside him. “Ah’m not what she wanted… Ah just want her back….”

He trotted over to his desk. Shoving the old box of photos aside, he took a quill and paper. The wastebasket under him was filled with crumpled pieces of papers, drafts of letters he would never send.

“I hope you notice it, Daring. I’ve been hoping that you’d come around someday, but I know you’re busy. I’m sorry I haven’t written in months, it’s just… I’m trying, you know? I just… I just can’t keep friendships very well. You know that. I always blow it, running them into the ground.

What about you? You haven’t written either. I hear that you’re busy, but… I don’t know. Do you still care? I need to know… Your silence is hurting me, Daring. I’m stuck here, not knowing what to say, and you’re not making a sound either.

Silence is like a bullet, Daring. I’ve been shot now, and I hope you know it.”

With a disgruntled sigh, he crumpled up the paper and tossed it into the wastebasket. He glanced over at the open book on the desk. “You know how everyone’s always saying seize the moment?” Asked Daring. “I don’t know… I’m thinking it’s the other way around. Like the moment seizes us.”

Next to the novel was a newspaper. “The famed adventurer Daring Do has done it again. Audiences everywhere are lining up outside of bookstores, hoping to get their hooves on a copy of her latest novel…”

He snorted. He told himself that he wouldn’t pay attention to those headlines anymore, that he was over it. But it wasn’t true, he thought, glancing at the stack of newspapers in the corner of his room.

Why was he so divided? His dreams always seemed to revolve around that one day years ago. Did she still care? He searched his memories for an answer. He thought back to the time they sat under the tree on the hill, in the dead of the night, when she leaned her head on his shoulder.

He knew that his lack of letters made him seem distant, hard to reach, but their friendship wasn’t over. He wished he knew how to tell her that. But what if he got a letter from her? Would he open it?

He had to know if she still cared if he was alive, but what if the answer was no? If silence was a bullet, then what would a response be? Braeburn shuddered. “We could have made it… right? Ah dunno… Am Ah crazy?”

xXx

Daring squinted into the sun, trying to figure out what time it was in Equestria. Around her, Amareicans went about their usual business, chatting amongst themselves. A few glanced her way, but for the most part, she went unnoticed. It had been months since the funeral, but she had elected to stay to tie up some loose ends.

Or that was what she told herself. Maybe she was too scared to go back to Equestria, though she knew she would have to return someday. With a sigh, she turned and went back to the hotel. The entire time she had been in Amareica, she hadn’t received a single letter from Braeburn. She had tried to write a few herself, but she just couldn’t figure out what to say. Some writer she was, she scoffed.

In her room, she grabbed a quill and paper. “I don’t know if you know this, Brae, but I think you do. Silence hurts, you might as well shoot me. I’m not what you wanted, and I’m sorry for that, but all I want now is to hear from you again. I’m shot Brae. Help me.”

She sighed, folding up the paper and tossing it into the trash can. Braeburn would never know how she felt, she thought. She had too much pride to admit she made mistakes. It was easier to just hide behind her ego and block out the world, ignoring the pain.

She had to say it, but it was hard. It was harder than anything she had ever done in the past. It wasn’t easy to say, and it surely wasn’t loud. “Brae… I miss you. And I hope you notice…” she whispered.

xXx

In the pouring rain, Braeburn stumbled out of the store. He stared at the bottle of liquor in his hooves. His ear twitched as a pony past. Looking up, he found himself staring at Princess Celestia. His eyes widened. “You’re lost,” she said. Braeburn blinked, and she was gone.

“Heh. Ah’m lost,” he muttered. He tossed the bottle into a trash can and trotted home. “We’re lost.”