The aches faded with each passing day. She was gaining something of a reputation around the hospital. As her mobility returned, her acts became more flamboyant. It wasn't because she was trying to show off, not exactly... Performing just felt a lot better than lazing around. The hospital had a critical lack of Internet access, so performing tricks for ponies won out as far as the entertainment options went.

It helped that she liked seeing how her magic could flow and bend. She wove colorful illusions and flashy effects as she told her outlandish tales of a pony stuck in a strange world of hairless apes. She was making that one up, but the ponies dug the detail she could go into about their absurd society.

It was once her society, and there she was, poking fun at it. Of course, she remembered making fun of it even when she was in it, so maybe things didn't change that much.

When first she wanted to teleport, terror seized her. What if she got stuck? What if she got hurt?

But she shook it off, staring her fears head on. "I know," she said, looking into a mirror. "That I have every reason to be concerned, but I did not come here to this place to be scared to use magic. I am a magic pony. That was the deal." She thrust a hoof at her reflection. "And magic ponies teleport, end of discussion."

Though her little speech had solidified her opinion, it hadn't really put down her fear. So she teleported anyway, heart racing and ready for failure. She made it a tiny hop, from one spot to another within the same room, appearing with her hair standing up and her breath uneven. But she had made it, and wasn't hurt. "S-see... not... so bad. Just don't carry entire tubs with you."

It was with great joy that she willed a quill to sign the paperwork when that time came. She was being discharged, healthy and ready to tackle the world. "Tell the other patients that I'll see them on the outside, so they had best get better soon."

With a giddy eagerness, she trot out through the frontdoors of the hospital into the brilliant light of day. Her moment of savoring was interrupted as a pony smashed into her on the way past. "Hey, I'm trottin' here!" the pony barked, moving on without really looking at Trixie.

Trixie rolled her eyes. "Welcome to Manehattan." She merged with the flow of traffic, eager to make her way home. "I can't wait--"

"--Neither can I," cut in a voice that sounded far too familiar. Emerging from the crowd came Trixie, the original, a knowing smirk on her face. "We have business, but even one such as I, the Great and Powerful Trixie know better than to tackle a pony in the hospital. Now that you are free of that drab place, here." With a disdainful mental flick, she sent a card bouncing off not-Trixie's chest. "Be there."

Not-trixie felt ice cold everywhere. Never had she felt more alien in her body. Never had she felt more divorced from what she was. "I-I... What?"

Trixie tilted her head faintly, "Do you not understand?" She took a step closer. "The one and only has come," she sang smoothly, the crowd avoiding her without being prompted. "And there can be only one." She raised a hoof with gravity. "And at last--" She directed the hoof at herself. "--I am here."

The music faded, leaving not-Trixie all the more baffled. "Was... that the entire song?"

Trixie scowled. "All that some copycat deserves. Take the card and be there if you know what's good for you. We'll prove to the world who is the true Trixie, and then I will go home, triumphant." She turned in place, tail flicking disdainfully as she trot off, melding with the crowd.

Not-Tirixie felt music trying to escape from her. Even as she willed the card off the ground, they spilled from her unwilling lips. "How can I even breathe, standing in the wreckage..." With timing a bit too on the nose, the sky grew dark, and disgorged soft rain onto the city. The other ponies scattered for cover, but Not-Trixie took slow steps. "The rain, a lullaby and so I close my eyes..." She did close her eyes, still trotting.

"Hey, watchit!"

Not-Trixie snapped out of her reverie, eyes snapping open to realize she had managed to wander into the street just enough to get in the way of a taxi pony. With a nervous smile, she backed up out of the way. "You available?"

"You wanna ride? Hop on. Where to?" He gestured with a toss of his head towards his available and dry cart, a canopy already drawn to keep the rain at bay.

Not-Trixie bounded up onto the dry seat and pointed the way. "Home, thank you."

"Ain't no thing." And off he went, easily navigating the streets to get Not-Trixie to her home, where her mob boss and her mob friends also lived.

She stepped free, tossing a five bit coin at the stallion as she went. "Thanks." And off he went. "And here I am..." She, Not-Trixie. The name felt... clammy... How could she call herself Trixie when the original was there, ready to fight for the right to it. What right did she, not-Trixie, have to even participating in that fight?

She took slow steps up the stairs, the song magic tickling at her throat. "I'm powerless, I'm meaningless, like every scar..." She raised a hoof as she walked, trailing it along one of the fine marks she had gained from her reckless retreat through whatever astral nightmare she had plunged into.

"But as I cry, tears fill inside, right through my heart..." She passed into the building proper, other ponies simply shying away from her, letting her sing her sad little song without issue. "Through it all, I can hear... someone whispering 'come near'." That was when Not-Trixie stopped. Of course she had to face the real Trixie. She had demanded it, and it was her right to do so.

Maybe she'd even have answers? Not-Trixie's nose scrunched even as she tapped repeatedly at the elevator call button. "Not likely." The music was gone, the magic faded. When she entered the small elevator, others nodded towards her going the other way.

"Good to see yer back," grunted one of her fellow goons, but he kept right on walking, having someplace to be.

Her eyes darted between the buttons. Did she go home, or check in... She pressed a button and was soon exiting into the loud commotion of the casino and headquarters of Don Keyworks.

"Come to rain more treasure on us?" asked Long, seated at a patched up roulette table. "What an entrance! I'm only sorry I wasn't there to see it. You feelin' alright?"

Not-Trixie smiled gently at Long Shot. "I did my part, and I hear you did yours. How did that go?"

She hopped down from her stool, coming face to face with Trixie. "We mopped the floor with 'em and sent 'em runnin' out of there so fast they could barely walk straight. It was perfect." She set a hoof on Not-Trixie's shoulder. "You look kinda off. You sure you're alright?"

Don stepped into view, Gold at his side. "Trixie! My fine magical mare, good to have you back." He approached at a steady walk, waving one hoof to gather attention. "It's only been two jobs, but it feels like forever. Let there be no doubt that you're one of us. Am I right or what pals?"

The room exploded into cheers of agreement, hooves pumping or stomping the ground, vibrating the floor.

Not-Trixie smiled awkwardly, waving at her sudden new fans. "Ah, yes, about... that." She leaned in towards Don and lowered her voice to a whisper, even if that still sounded too loud to her ears. "The real Trixie showed up."

Don's expression turned instantly into a scowl. "You want I should... take care of her?" He sat and clopped two hooves together with deadly intent. "We can make sure she don't bother you no more."

Images of the various ways that could turn out played through not-Trixie's mind, each one making her wince anew, squirming in front of the Don. "N-no! No... I'll just go meet her, as she said. I don't think she intends anything violent, so let's not resort to that." She flashed a little smile. "That's not... our way, right?"

Don slapped her shoulder firmly. "Exactly right! Here you are, fresh to the family, reminding me that we don't gallop that way. Someone get this mare a drink." He rose up to his hooves. "You're on vacation. You got a week to yourself. If you need anything, you lemme know, capiche?"

Gold slid in against him, leaning towards Trixie. "Before you trot off, Trixie, there is a matter of payment."

"I'm losing my head today," laughed Don good-naturedly. "Of course. You did good, you get paid. That's how that works." He reared up just long enough to clap his hooves. "Get her cut!"

A familiar pegasus flew in, dropping a sack on the way past and going right out an open window, lost to sight moments later.

Not-Trixie frowned. The name of that pegasus was at the tip of her tongue, but that thought faded when Don kicked the bag open just enough to reveal the glitter of a pile of bits inside. She willed the bag to raise, but it did so slowly with its considerable weight. How many bits was that?! "Thank you."

"Ain't nothin'. You did the work, you get paid. Just, you know, don't trash my stuff next time." He gestured at the roulette table with its metal band-aids. "Lucky fer you, we were able to patch her back together, even named her after you. That's the Trix-Spin table now."

Long slapped Not-Trixie on the back. "And she's my lucky table, just as lucky as the mare that made it."

"Trixie?" It was Rags, pushing through the crowd. "Good to see you!"

Don turned away. "Enjoy yer vacation, earned it." He trotted away, the crowd parting for him instantly save for Gold at his side.

Not-Trixie tried to say something to him, but Rags caught her first, crushing her in a sudden embrace that reminded her body that it could still hurt if it wanted. "Don't do that again," he roared, releasing her just as quickly. "When we heard--"

"--He started crying like a foal," snidely finished Long with a wicked smirk. "He figured you'd gone and kicked the bucket."

Rags shot a withering look at Long that failed to make much of an impression on her. "I was worried, who wouldn't be? Bleeding and knocked out on a pile of riches? If you wanted to make an impression, you made one! Now don't ever do that again."

Not-Trixie reached up and gently booped his nose with the flat of a hoof. "It will take more than that to take care of... the..." She trailed off. Finishing the statement felt awkward. "Me," she lamely added to conclude things. "I'm back, and in one piece."

Rags patted Not-Trixie down shamelessly, hooves wandering over her sides. "Mostly one piece. You have some scratches that ain't coming clean. 'Least they're small, and your cape hides most of 'em."

She was unsure if she should be scandalized or not. He was a stallion, and they weren't that close of friends, but she was fairly sure he was in a good place, desperately trying to make sure she was alright, not cop an easy feel. "They'll just add to my mysterious appeal." She waved it off. "Now... I'm going to enjoy my time off before I'm sent off to do... something else crazy."

Of course, she already knew one thing she'd have to do.

She had a very real and likely both Great and Powerful Trixie to face off against.

Author's Note

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