How Does One Self?

by Bumper

Rating: teen
Tags: Caramel, Big Macintosh, Adventure, Slice of Life, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Drama, Original Character
Length: 6427

Is Caramel the real Caramel? Will he be him tomorrow? Is there a place for this form of... Him?

Equestria is a magical place, but that means it's a place of magical mishaps, a thing Caramel knows all too well. Caramel isn't always himself, or maybe he is but not, or maybe... Caramel is different, he's different nearly everyday, but what can you do when you lay your head down at night and have no idea when next you'll awake and who will have your body next?

Is he the real Caramel? Does he really have a place in this crazy magical world? Will he ever know normalcy? After years of struggle it's time he ask the only person who can answer this, himself.

Published 2018-07-01 13:40:07 UTC
Last updated 2018-08-23 11:58:08 UTC

Introductions are in order

"Red gala? Royal? Fuji? No, no, no. I feel like I binged on red apples the other night. I should get golden delicious... Hmm..." I snap out of my stupor to realise I'm actually at a flower cart, "I'm sorry, I..."
"It's fine, I get it," Roseluck smiled, she's so pretty I just wonder... Wait, no time to drift off again.
"Just err, just some lilies thanks," I awkwardly slide over some bits and walk off with the bouquet.

Right, sorry, let me introduce myself. My name's Caramel and I live here in Ponyville, it's a friendly little town where most everyone knows everyone. This particular aspect is fantastic for me because it means that ponies know about my problem, and boy do I have a big one.

You see, Equestria is a land of abundant magic and a lot can happen, so there are plenty of cases of magical mishaps. But over time we all learned how to treat these difficult ailments by understanding their magical composition. So you'll understand how difficult it is to cope with unique cases like mine. All across Equestria you'll see some ponies simply just become a different race; this can last from seconds to days. A pony will suddenly have wings or a horn where they didn't before, or maybe they'd lose something; it's pretty rare but you deal with it while it lasts and then you go on with your life.

So with that out of the way let me tell you that I'll change not only my race but also my build and even gender will change. Hell, one of my forms even gets a whole new cutie mark. And this happens on a near daily basis; oh and did I mention we come different ponies in the transition? Because we do. So that's me, Caramel, or Caramel Horse to some but, I'll let The Good Doctor explain that bit later because here we are.

I push open my front door and remember that I was Wings yesterday, he's a pegasus; I know, clever name right? I step around the many discarded cups and food trays and I wonder where in Tartarus does he find these ponies who party so early in the week? Ah well, guess I'd better clean this up before The Doctor sees any of it.

Amongst all the detritus that litters the floor is an old yoke that's clearly been passed around by drunk ponies nowhere big enough to carry it. There's marks and chips all over it, and is that a stain? Really? It's not just any old yoke though, this one's usually kept safe because of whose it is - or maybe was - and it's just been passed around and discarded like this? See, we used to have a form called Chance-a-lot who was as big as Big Mac, and from what I hear, just as nice. A few things happened a while ago and he just never showed up again. I'd rather not get into what exactly, but it was kinda like losing a brother, but one you never met. It's strange but we never actually get to experience each other, we only know from what we're told, or what we find later. Case in point, the mess around me.

I'm broken out of my reminiscing by a sudden groan behind me and I turn to face this cute little earth pony who I never noticed exit one of our few guest rooms.
"What time is it?" she mumbles out with a dry voice.
"Well markets were closing, so mid-afternoon I suppose," funny how times like these don't even phase me anymore.
"Right, good thing it's the weekend," she muses reaching for some water; I didn't have the heart to correct her.
"So you're, like what, Caramel's twin then?" That question though, that definitely still bothers me.
"Something like that I suppose."
"I think he - Och!" a sudden torrent of water cuts her off, hosing her face completely. It took all my fortitude
to not laugh... And me rolling on the floor cackling only proves my weak fortitude. I suppose I forgot to mention I'd recently broken the faucet somehow; I guess I just have that kind of luck.
It took her a few seconds to shut off the water and almost a full minute for her to stop staring at it in shock. After composing myself I gathered a towel for her and two more for the floor. After she dried herself off, and having been given a glass of water, she sheepishly made her excuses and left.

I was once again alone in my flat but there was a glaring issue to take care of. It was with a somewhat practiced ease that I grabbed a bag and collected the mess that littered the place. Half empty cups, piles of hay fries, carpet stains and broken plates all make up the usual fare. I'm glad Wings always knows to replace this stuff without any fuss; I guess all those passive aggressive notes someone sticks everywhere eventually got through.

Finally I get to collapse on the couch and start to nibble on the lilies as I think back on my little encounter. Brother? Cousin? I even got called an uncle once; yeah it's generally too much hassle to explain and it just really grows tiring to do so. No one ever had a cure and it was too unique to study conclusively so all we really know is that it happens and it sucks. But it's fine I guess, we've grown used to it, the annoyance just comes and goes in waves but it gets better... Even if everyone else is having the fun and I'm just cleaning up the mess. I mean I always assumed I was the original, guess we all would, but who really knows... I'm certainly not the most important... Not the coolest... Most liked... Successful, good looking, adventurous...

Wait, was that a knock at the door?
"Mel? You home?" ah the sweet sound of my favourite...
"Big Mac! Coming." Rushing to the door I let Big Red in.
"Awful clean... Party?"
"Hehe, yeah," I chuckle as I rub my forehoof, "please, sit down. Ya thirsty?"
"I'm fine, thank ya," oh how I love his country drawl, "look Mel, ponies been saying ya look down these days, and, well, I know we're... Not..." there are pauses as he looks elsewhere, now there's a story for later, "but I'm worried 'right? How're y'all doing?"
"Oh... I'm, err... Fine," a raised eyebrow tells me that answer won't fly, "I'm just... Lost?"

Mac has always been great with me, he knows he doesn't need to talk, just sit and wait until I'm ready... And so we sat... And sat... And sat. I guess the problem is I really don't understand these feelings myself and I certainly don't know them well enough to communicate it. A few ideas kept getting caught in my throat until all I could do was sigh.
"Alright, well, you know I think of ya as kin," I wince a little inside, "so why don't ya join us for dinner tonight? Like old times."

Right, so, you see, I used to spend a lot of time around Sweet Apple Acres a ways back, back when Chance was around. His big build made him perfect for helping out around the farm, and heavy work meant many naps. And that's our... Trigger? You see we change when we wake up. Or while we sleep, not sure really. I'd often wake up under a tree, or sometimes in one, but this meant the Apple family grew to understand our predicament quite well. Sweet Apple Acres became somewhat of a sanctuary, a home away from home; Even if it was just to the outskirts of town. Oh Celestia! How long had I been staring at him?

I nodded to Big Mac and as he left he told me I could come around whenever I'm ready. Oh man, he's such a sweet guy, yet so tough, and cute, but... OK sorry, let me explain. So Chance-a-lot would be all over the orchid, helping buck trees, carry apples, plow fields, all sorts of chores. But when it's me I'm just so - So very... I've always been so useless...

Sorry, I mean while I was me I just kinda hung around Big Mac because he would always be there for me; He'd listen to everything I'd say and I felt like he understood, and that he cared. In fact, he was the only pony I could talk to and feel he was listening. Other ponies just sort of follow along and they give their piece, but you know they're forming their opinions or judging you, but not Big Mac. This was great until one day when I kinda, confessed, and, you know, asked him out, and, well... Chance was his best friend and it was all a bit too weird for him... I knew it would be complicated and I knew he was too good for me, but I convinced him to just try it one time. But then it just... I think it was just too weird for him and Chance, and I kinda ruined everything; it wasn't long after that Chance just stopped appearing. I guess I robbed Big Mac of his friend and I ruined our sanctuary for too. The Apples still welcomed us but I just never felt I could go back there.

Even still, it would be rude to turn down the offer now so I got myself washed up and headed on over. Dinner was lovely as usual, and not entirely apple themed as many seem to suspect. Apple Bloom jabbered on about school and crusading; Applejack talked chores and friendship; Granny Smith reminisced about, well, everything (apparently ponies these days just don't understand), and all the while Mac just sat back and ate. Not much had changed in this house. Applejack offered to walk me home but I declined and was sent home with hugs and pie. My spirits were that bit brighter after my time with the loving family and I'm sure Mac could see that in me.

As I was strolling through the moonlit fields I thought to my own family. Now I don't want to give the wrong impression but my parents didn't really want foals, and for them to end up with us? Ouch. They tried their best with what they had, but there was no preparing for this, even for competent parents. In a way it was like having a set of quintuplets that you had to raise separately yet simultaneously. When we were grown enough we ran away from home and I don't think they ever put much effort into finding us. They always said we weren't a burden, but I just always felt we were. I occasionally wonder how they are and I've always assumed that they're just much better off.

As I trot through my front door I look around the nice, clean flat and figured there's nothing left for me here so I just went straight to bed. After all, it was an emotional day and I clearly didn't sleep enough last night. As my head hit the pillow and my eyelids grew heavy I was once again unsure when next I would awaken.

Author's Note

This story comes from an old notebook I found from a few years back and comes in a very different writing style I'm trialling so thank you for giving it a go and joining me on this adventure of trying to reconcile such old writings. Apologies in advance if I use dated references or screw up new cannon. I welcome all comments and thanks again for reading

2: For when I wake

"GAH! You're a dude? The hell man?"
Oh it's one of these days again? "Hehe, so, long story right-"
"Nope, weird, I'm out, gonna go take a shower now."
Yep, here I am in some stallion who I don't think I've met's bed again; better than the ones I have 'spose. I wish there was, like, a pamphlet or something I could leave him on his pillow, but I really can't be bothered to go through this right now.
"I swear I really was a mare last night!" I call out as I pass the bathroom door taking my leave. I doubt it's enough but, it's his issue now, I however have to figure out where I am, and when I am.

It's not common for Caramelle to take us elsewhere, Wings I kind of expect it from, but the rest of us generally venture no further than Sweet Apple Acres so you'll understand my confusion when I walked out the door and straight into Manehattan traffic. With ponies hurrying past me, sipping on coffees, and intermittently yelling at each other about where they're walking I realise that I've answered one of this morning's questions, and now for the when.

I spot a newspaper colt on the next corner and figure no one here will likely give me the time of day so they're unlikely to give me the time or day.
"Hey Kid, what day is it?" I ask as kindly as I can muster.
"Says right here in the latest Times, only 3 bits mister," he replies smugly.
"OK, and for ponies who don't have 3 bits on them what day is it?" what is with Manehattanites?
"That's a 2 bit service mister." Well this is clearly going nowhere, that brat's bitcoin cutie mark sure makes sense. Is it even called that? Well it's a coin, for a bit, so I guess so. I doubt I'd be able to ask this morning's acquaintance for a loan so I guess that only leaves one place to go for a ride home.

A sign for the 'What in Tartarus - Centre for Magical Anomalies' looms over me as I walk into the fancy looking building; Celestia's old joke must be lost on all the busy looking bureaucrats who occupy the lobby before me. It was started when an old sect of unicorns created a fund covering ponies for the bizarre happenings and cosmic fluctuations caused by Equestrian magic and felt it necessary to have a place like this to be compensated for damages caused. When Celestia made it a public service she combined it with a study centre and created what is now my financier. 'If they can't fix you they pay you' is basically how Wings wrote it, and the truth's not that far off, they provide pensions for ponies whose lives are messed up in ways they can't find a cure for; Which is us, so now it makes up our livelihood.

"You right there sweetie? You've been staring at the desk for a while now" Luna! Has this pony been watching me for a while?
"Right, yeah. No, I mean, I, err" I stammer, my face turning red.
"OK then, sorry for the interrogation, how about we start with your name?" I notice now how good looking this mare is. She's well done up with a great mane and really nice clothes and looks far younger than her few wrinkles revealed her to be.
"C-Caramel. Miss. Sorry."
"Mrs. Sorry that is."
"Sorry?"
"That's right," sweet Luna, these ponies are just so- "let me grab your file then and see how we can help you today."
I'll spare you the details of the rest of that ordeal but needless to say it took some explaining to get through why I didn't have any bits on me and why I didn't have a saddle-bag when I'm so far from home; but I did get a ticket home and an allowance for the ride.

I got to the train station in the early afternoon and finally got to buy a newspaper off a far more accommodating stallion.
"Celestary the 43rd?! Are you bucking kidding me?!" He wasn't expecting that outburst. I didn't explain myself too well before but just know that that meant it'd been many moons since I was last myself. Almost 100 days really. Had I been in Manehattan for that whole time? Who have I been until now? What am I to expect when I get home?
"Soo... Bad day then?" the stubby stallion before me asked gingerly, he may have been shocked before but he's probably creeped out now by the way I've been gawking at him slack jawed immediately after yelling at him.
"Yeah, rough... Couple weeks," I murmur as I trot away, much to his relief, and try to ignore the ponies stealing glances at the crazy guy after his outburst. I clamber up onto a bench and wait for the next train home, eye's and ears sunk to the ground.
"Hey, you look different. You right there sour puss?" my ears swivel back up as I hear a melodic voice reach out to me, "Ah, so you're actually a stallion huh? You didn't seem like it last night, how'd that guy take it when you made it home?"
Yep, definitely talking to me and I raise my head to meet the eyes of a gorgeous blue earth pony.
"Wasn't a big fan this morning," I chuckle meekly, she however bursts into fits of laughter.
"This morning?! That's fan-bucking-tastic! This morning..." she tries to compose herself only to erupt again as her legs seem to wobble slightly beneath her. Her laughter is infectious and I find myself chuckling for the first time in... Well at least a hundred days I suppose.
"Oh honey, been there," what? "but this is our lives right?"
"Wha-"
"You mentioned you were from Ponyville though, heading home at last?"
"No- well yeah I am, but-"
"Yeah it's been a pretty big week for you eh?"
"I would like to ask though-"
"It'll be nice to travel with a local."
Enough already, "sorry, do w-"
"Oh boy, LONG week then huh? Last night especially," she emphasises with a wink.
"When did w-"
"Friday night, remember?"
"Not really, I was-"
"Not surprised, you were-"
"Can I fini-"
"Of course, go ahead." This is getting to be a bit much.
"So we met last Friday night?"
"Yeah gir- Yeah buddy, apparently you just made it into town, said you had to get out of stuffy old Ponyville. We've seen each other basically every night since," so it's only been a couple nights here, "funny considering every night you said it'd probably be your last, and then there you were again. We all make that promise but it never really sticks huh?" she pouts dramatically only to giggle again.
"Right..." I only just realised how dehydrated I feel, "so you're heading to Ponyville too then?"
"Yep, heading down on the next train any minute now. An old... Buddy of mine is opening a place down there and wants me to scope out the scene for him. Do the locals know about your little, escapades?"
Far better than you clearly do, "they have a certain understanding, it's kind of a long story."
"Oh I feel you there, mine gets especially weird after recent events," did her eyes just shine green?

"PLATFORM 1! Appaloosa express! Stopping only at Ponyville!" The ear shattering call of the platform master bellowed as a train whistle was heard around the bend.
"Well this is us then, I'm travelling in style today, don't ya love business trips, come join me up front huh?"
"I think I really just need to-"
"Fantastic, it's technically a sleeper so I won't get too offended when you nod off. Come on!" Oh Celestia give me strength.

"PONYVILLE!! Exiting on the left!" I'm jolted awake by the over enthusiastic conductor. What is with this ponies? Before I gather my wits he slams the door behind him and if that weren't enough I turn my head to the sensation of my new friend wiping her slobber off my rump.
"That pillow was PLUSH! Thank you for your unwilling contribution," she bows and after our ride I'm inclined to only smile meekly and mumble incoherently.
"I've had one tartarus of a week and I think it's-"
"Oh I completely understand. You head home and maybe I'll see you around town," she grabs her bags and leaves a quick peck on my cheek on her way out. After stammering out a farewell I head out to the platform and onwards to home, alone again with my thoughts.

It was a comfortable ride, I managed to tell... Well I guess I didn't get her name, but she heard about what I go through and she was actually incredibly understanding and supportive but it wasn't long into her questions that my eyes just naturally drifted closed. Now here I am back in the familiar street of Ponyville heading back to see the state of my house which I expect needs a thorough cleaning. The ponies around me seem to keep peeking in my direction and mumbling amongst themselves but I give them each a meek nod and even a small wave to those I know personally, but strangely no pony approaches me. The reason is clear as I round the corner onto my home street and... "WHAT THE BUCK!!"

Now my home is nothing to write home about, a 1 floor, 2 bedroom on a street of larger houses but I guess now it really stands out. Looking past the worker ponies cleaning off graffiti that now only says 'uck this sh' I can see windows smashed, the door's bucked in half, the mailbox has been broken off and is lying on the floor topped off with a small pile of letters and what appears to be 'Get well soon' card beside a muffin of all things. It seems the insides don't fair much better as a veritable mountain of litter covers the floor and there're stains on all the furniture; plus everything is accompanied by some passive, and some overtly aggressive sticky notes. The kitchen's a mess with broken crockery on the floor and the bedroom is a scene out of a bad movie with an upturned mattress and torn sheets on the floor. Out the window the workers are quietly arguing about who should go talk to 'him' and I just drop to my haunches and sob softly so as not to bother them.

"Hey, buddy... You, err, you alright?," guess we know who lost that argument, "We were told it was time to clean this place up for the next occupants, so, err, I guess you might wanna tell the mayor you're back? We'll just keep cleaning up huh?" The orange stallion's gruff voice did little to sooth me but when he placed a hoof on my shoulder it was surprisingly gentle and sincere.
I tried my best to keep a level voice as I was hoping that having my back to him didn't betray the fact I was crying, "I think I'll head there in a minute, thanks."
"You want a hankie?" Busted! He shakes some sawdust off and hands me one anyway. "You got some place to stay for now? I mean, my missus she's-"
"I'll find somewhere, thanks..."
"Chuck."
"Chuck?"
"Yeah, as in a drill, I know it's a weird name but Dad always knew I'd be a carpenter," wasn't asking for his life story.
"Thanks Chuck, sorry about the mess."
"It's fine Caramel, we know you didn't do it. Any word from your... Siblings?" I cringe a little at that phrase but just shake my head, "Alright bud, well we'll just keep cleaning then." Another pat on the shoulder and he stepped away.

I sat there for a while, my mind both racing and yet feeling completely empty; I'd be thinking of solutions, problems, and ideas but they'd all get too side tracked to lead anywhere. I struggled to ignore the two outside joking about who gets the muffin if I chose not to eat it and focused on where I was going to stay tonight? My first thought was obviously Sweet Apple Acres but there had to be a better option. I know citizens in need were always welcome at Twilight's castle but I don't think my issues are worthy of a princess. The mayor would probably help out when I see her but I am not in the mood for any more bureaucracy. Last I thought of was my train friend but I don't have the energy to put up with that again...
"DEAR CELESTIA WHAT THE BUCK DO I DO?!?!"

"Ya come on home ya darn fool!" well that's a distinct voice.
"Applejack? How did you?"
"You been talk of the town all week. The market's gone wild since you strolled on through like nothing had happened. Now let's get ya back to the farm and set up in the guest room; pack some things and let the fellas outside do their work. I'll go back to grab my cart and be back in a jiffy."
Oh dear, she'll have a hell of a story for me.

3: At home on the range

Hmm... That makes 3 whole shirts left unripped, an old Winter Wrap Up vest, 5 books, our diary and the yoke... Right... Guess that's everything then, no wonder Miss was travelling light. On top of the pile was our shared diary which I'd been trying to ignore due to an emotion I think is most aptly described as confearsion, or doubterrified, or -
"So ya ready?" the country drawl snapped my focus back to the present.
"Yeah. Sadly."
"This really it huh? Hoo boy, do you even know what happened here?" at my cringe she took the hint, "Hoooo boy, well we can walk and talk... Or maybe you'd rather get yourself comfortable and grab a cider first." I didn't like the way that sounded.
"Let's just get out of here first, I'll figure it out once I'm out of this wreck" I know it came out half hearted but Applejack knew to try take it in good stride, "can I chuck these in the cart?"
"Sure thing Sugarcube, grab an apple while you're in there."

Applejack was kind enough to let me finish my red delicious before getting started, but once we hit the city limits.
"Sooo, hehe, where you been?" Should I go with 'I have NO BUCKING IDEA' or more importantly 'What the bu-'
"Well I woke up in Manehattan this morning, to quite the alarm, but last time I went to bed was right after our last dinner. Far as I'm concerned, we basically had dinner together last night"
"Woah nelly, that was moons ago, you lot a' been gone for about a month; Hell of an exit ya made too"
"Yeah, my house made a bit of an example of that."
"Wish I could say that was the worse of it," I do not like the sounds of that either, "but Celestia knows what's true or not; small town ponies, give 'em a hair they'll give ya a tale."
"I think that cider plan is sounding good actually."
"Fair 'nuff sugar, but I ought'a warn ya, it's school holidays so the whole CMC are at the farm tonight." this ought to be relaxing...

"Uncle Cara!" Here we go, "Scoots check it out, he did come back."
"Ha, now Dash owes me 10 bits and an other trip to Wonderbolt HQ."
"Did you really burn down a whole street?"
"SWEETIE BELLE! Where did you hear a thing like that?" Applejack yelled at the filly.
"Just some of the colts at school were talking and-"
"And have you seen anything burned down in town?"
"Well no, but-"
"And do you think it's nice to accuse somepony of that sort of thing?"
"I was just asking..." I almost wanted to forgive the filly who now looked more like a scolded puppy.
"How 'bout you three go see if you can help Big Mac with the dinner."
"CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS CHEFS! YAY!"
"EEENOPE!" came a worried cry from the kitchen but the fillies were already on their way.
"Sorry 'bout that 'Mel, only thing worse than townsfolk for rumours are schoolfoals."
"No need to tell me. Can I just unload my stuff, been a rough day, and thanks so much for taking me in."
"Ahh shucks, take all the time you need, you lot are basically family. Hopefully whoever we get tomorrow realises they're in a safe space, don't want more o' what happened going on 'round this house; 'specially not with foals about. I'll go unpack the cart while ya get settled."

As I made my way upstairs, passing the elder Apple asleep on her chair, I felt a wave of relief as I heard the familiar creaking in the same old spots and knowing that I really was among ponies who cared... Then all the emotions I didn't realise I was holding back hit me and by the time I made it to the landing my eyes were like rivers. What the buck was going on? Why did my house fall apart? Where have I been? Where do I go? Why does this keep happening? Will I be gone longer next time? Will I even come back again? Wha-
"'S'all right 'Mel, you're 'mong family now," I hadn't noticed the big hug I was held in until that heavenly drawl pulled me out of my stupor and a hoof was wiping away my tears. Big Mac lead me to the guest room and just let me continue crying into his shoulder, not saying a word until he knew I was ready, holding me the whole time.

It was a good dozen minutes before my sobbing subsided, eyes drained and throat sore, so I pulled back from the red fur that was my respite. I couldn't look him in the eyes or find words to even begin to express my gratitude.
"I think I smell burning," idiot, is that all you got? It did elicit a chuckle though.
"Hehe, yeah, Applejack would have a hoof full right now with the Cutie Mark Crusader Flambé squad. Though I reckon by now they'd be the Cutie Mark Crusader Firefighters."
"Yay," another chuckle rumbled through the bulky frame that supported me, "thanks Mac, got a little overwhelmed there."
"How long ya been holding that in?"
"Probably all day."
"Really?"
"Maybe since last time I was here."
"Really?"
"Maybe since the time I ran away from here and ruined everything."
"Figured it was a while," Mac took a few deep breaths and dipped his head to look me in the eyes, "You know Mel, you didn't ruin everything all those years ago. You need to go easy on yourself, you take every mistake as a failure in character, it ain't healthy. What we had... We... What I mean is, we're like your family here, we loved all of ya, most of ya, and when you stopped coming around we were the lesser for it. The others still don't know why you kept yourself away, figured that was between us, but they wanted ya back, me 'specially."
I looked up at him as he eased back from his hunched posture, "really?"
"I mean, ain't nopony treated me like you do, everypony sees me as some mute dope or a wise hermit, you just saw me as a family stallion with my own quirks and views on the world. Nopony wanted to be around me because they thought I was tryin' to blow 'em off or just get on with my chores but only you ever realised I just preferred to listen."
"I mean, you did do ALOT of listening while I was around," we both chuckled.
"But you could also tell when I was processing, or needed space, or that I was getting uncomfortable; something I wish my sisters would learn. 'Mel, I don't know what to make of us, I know how you felt."
"Feel. Sorry. Nevermind, go on."
"Your feelings have value Caramel, don't dismiss them 'k? I still don't know how exactly I feel 'bout ya, but I know I missed ya, and that you need to learn to value yourself."
"Thanks Mac, I... Thanks Mac."
"'Right, fire ought to be out by now, you come on down for dinner when you're ready," and with that he hefted himself off the bed and headed downstairs.

I flopped onto my back, the weirdest combinations of release, tension, hope, guilt, and now that I think of it, I was very hungry. As I descended the stairs there was no escaping the almost shrill of three excitable fillies practically squealing their excitement for the week ahead of none stop 'crusading'. Rounding the corner I saw the same old dynamic playing out as the matriarch slept at the head of the table, the sole stallion stoically dishing out the meals to the, not one but three fillies who talked over each other and the big sister who spent every breath trying to calm and control the chaos on the opposite side of the table. I stood there watching the madness and thinking of my own childhood as my parents would sit there concerned by who might be joining them for dinner, see it was me, and smile politely as we ate in silence. I took my seat at the foot of the table and thanked Big Mac as he passed me over a large serve with a smile and sat back. I have no idea where I fit in this family, yet strangely the way they seemed to ignore me made it all the more comforting as they seemed to be doing it because they actually accepted me. They weren't stealing glances between spoonfuls, or making idle chatter about my next appointment, they were just living their lives and welcomed me into it.

"Here y'are Sugarcube, one of the sours," Applejack passed me the mug with a warm smile, it was their fun code word for fermented cider to keep Apple Bloom out of the 'barrels that went off'.
"Thanks AJ, I actually feel alot better after the meal."
"Well maybe I'll keep it then to get me through the rest of this Crusader Week," she chuckled making no attempt to retrieve the mug, which didn't stop me from reflexively drawing it closer to me, "you sure you wanna hear this now?"
"You know, I think I have alot more to figure out before I start peeling off the bandage."
"Well normally I'd tell Apple Bloom to just rip it off, but I can see where you're coming from," to this Big Mac just nodded from his arm chair, "So you say you woke up in Manehattan this morning?"
"Urgh, don't remind me, my bed mate wasn't too pleased to see me in the morning, he was cuddling up pretty close too," ppssshht! A sudden geyser of cider came from the farm ponies mouths followed by a stoic chuckle and a hearty guffaw. Maybe it was my hopes bubbling up again but I think Big Mac was slightly redder than normal.
"Well goll-y that sounds like a hoot. Heew, so I guess Melle had quite the night then?" She hardly got the words past her huge grin.
"And all I ever get are the mornings," I shrugged as her jubilation faltered.
"Could only imagine what Wing's'd done," came the low chuckling from across the room as we all imagined the fresh Tartarus he'd stir up in that bedroom.
"Heew Nelly, well I better crash before those three start fussin' at dawn break; night fellas."
"Night AJ, and thanks again, so much."
"Aww shoot, you may not'a been born an Apple, but yer kin far as I'm concerned. Sleep in all ya need and stay long as ya like. See ya in... See ya soon I guess," and with a nod and a murmur from her brother she was off up the stairs.
"Welp, I best get Granny off to bed as well," Mac's statement drawing my focus to the snoring I managed to block out until now, "it's just as AJ said, and if you need me you know where I am."
And with a gracious nod he took the flustered elder to bed to the tune of 'darn kids thinking they can tell their seniors what to do' despite her doing exactly as told. I finished up my drink, washed out our mugs and headed back to the spare room.

As I closed the door behind me I surveyed the old room, the same as it was all those years ago when I basically lived here. I put away what little I had and left our diary on the side table, trying hopelessly to ignore it. I knew inside I'd find clues for the past while but I wasn't sure if I was yet ready to open Pandora's Box. I tried to read one of the other books I brought but I just couldn't concentrate, what if when I fell asleep tonight I'd wake up next year in Baltimare? Or what if I woke up to find everything shredded and nothing to call my own? What if when I woke up the diary was destroyed and I'd never have my answers? Was this really all my life would ever be, just a constant struggle to catch up on what's happening in my own life? Cleaning up my messes I never even made? Do I really just settle for being the cleaner, the fixer, the butler, the slave? No, it's time to make my own way! To make my own messes and be able to live with them. Time to become something more than the screw up with no prospects, it's time to take control! And so in a defiant motion I sat up, grabbed the diary and searched for my last entry. It's time to find out just WHAT THE BU-

Author's Note

Thanks everyone for joining me on this ride, it feels particularly weird publishing again on this other account and I've clearly forgotten some things :P But I'm enjoying this new 'perspective' of psuedo first-person/storytelling thing. Please if you're enjoying yourself or have any feedback rate the work thus far so I know what's going down and if you're feeling it write me a comment. Cheers, and thanks for joining me on my return to old form.