Sam’s eye’s burst open. He shot upright breathing heavily and dripping cold sweat. His eyes flicked back and forth across a darkened room.

“Am I alive?” he asked between gasps.

…

A hoof slammed into his side. “Oh no. It didn’t hurt! I’m dead!”

“Oh good, I think he’s awake.”

The door cracked open and the sudden introduction of light caused Sam’s retina’s to burn like a thousand suns. Ow, good pain! He wasn’t dead. Slapping his own eyes with his hooves confirmed that. Oh, right he had those now.

“Oh, my are you all right?” A sweet young ladies voice asked.

“He better be the doctor just left.” Another voice male and gruff followed up.

Slowly Sam opened his eyes to allow them to adjust to the light. Staring into a pair of bright blue eyes only two maybe three inches from his own. He flung himself back only to hit his head off of a wall, still not feeling the blow beyond a slight adjustment in pressure.

“Oh, I’m sorry please calm down everything will be fine now.” The pair of baby blues said in a soothing tone as she gently stroked his chest. At least it felt gentle but given a punch in the side didn’t phase him she may have been trying to crush his sternum and he wouldn’t know the difference.

She slowly pulled back and the second thing he noticed as she did was the cream colored fur, and that’s definitely what it was, around her eyes. As the distance grew he was also able to take in other details like that she had a muzzle, then caught on to her ears sticking off the top of her head. Once her full body came into view he confirmed that she was quadrupedal as well. With a lilac mane and tail. Yep, his rescuer was a talking pastel, horse. He noticed right above her leg was also a picture of what looked like the upper half of a heart sticking out of a basket.

Well, there went the high off his balls theory. Which meant he had three options left. He was in a coma and this was all some strange dream, unlikely seeing as how he was pretty sure you couldn’t pass out and wake up in a dream. At least he didn’t think he ever had. He had died and hell was just like the normal world except for unusually intelligent birds and everyone was a talking horse. Again, he doubted it. Or the seemingly ridiculous but honestly most plausible theory his, admittedly recently almost drowned, mind could produce. He had somehow ended up in the world of a children's cartoon that he had only ever watched with his niece.

…

“Are you alright?” She asked again snapping him to. “You’ve just been kind of… staring at my flank.”

Sam had the decency to turn his head and take a sudden interest in the curtains. He didn’t trust himself to come up with a good story so he just went with the truth. “I’m still a little fuzzy.”

Technically true. He had actually thought for a second he was talking to a.

“Oh I’m certain anypony would be with all the pain killers the doctor had to give you.” She said with total sincerity. “You were, or actually still are, in quite rough shape.”

“Yeah,” Sam answered his mouth feeling a little dry.

That explained the lack of agony when he struck himself, except for the eyes. He assumed it would probably take quite a bit of morphine before you could not feel a punch in the eyeball. Well, the bad news was that meant this probably wasn’t a coma dream. But hey being high was back on the table. God, what kind of day was he having when possibly being pumped full of enough painkillers to hallucinate was the best case scenario. Sam tried to stand.

“No!” She shouted putting both hooves, hands maybe that pressure didn’t seem like any shape that would be comfortable to make with your hands, on his shoulders. “You need to rest, the doctor said not to let you out of bed.”

“Miss De La Creme perhaps it would be best to start at the beginning.” The male voice said.

Sam turned his head to see the third party. The stallion was azure coated with a black mane and tail. He had a black waistcoat and white shirt on and his flank had a picture of a half-open silver serving tray.

“My name is Bitsworth.” The stallion said holding a hoof to his own chest. Then stretching his foreleg out to indicate the other person, err pony in the room. “This is the lady Creme De La Creme.”

“Ah okay,” Sam answered. They both stared at him silently. The sound of ticking in the background alerted him that yes there was some kind of clock in the room. Bitsworth raised an eyebrow and coughed.

“You okay?” Sam asked tilting his head and looking at Bitsworth.

“Your name sir,” Bitsworth said sounding exasperated.

“Oh right my name right, that,” Sam said nodding as he tried to think. Okay well, either the crazy magic idea was true in which case the name Sam Jones would stick out like a sore thumb, or he was hallucinating. Hmm. Real name or weird alias.

“Maybe you should go get the doctor he seems a little, addled,” Creme said getting up in his face again looking rather worried.

Oh, right conversation. Uh, name. He saw his fluffy cloud-like tail popping out from under a blanket. Huh tail, cloud, horse things, Hasbro. Storm Shadow! No wait wasn’t that the villain in the movie. Ah, he only saw that with a group of screaming kids. Still better not to go around using the same name as the pony world Darth Sauron.

“Squall… Shade.” He said. Hey if this whole thing was a hallucination he could just right it off as thinking he was a JRPG character in his drug-induced haze, and they could all just have a big laugh about it afterward.

“Well, mister Shade it’s nice to meet you.” She said with a gentle smile. “and now that we’re all acquainted would you like to know what the doctor said?”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” He admitted.

“Well, the doctor says you’re actually surprisingly well for someone who almost drowned,” Creme said clearly trying to make near death soundless unpleasant. “The worst injuries were the torn muscles in your wings one of which was dislocated. Apparently, they aren’t meant to fight strong currents like that.”

Sam nodded along to show he was listening.

“Other than that you apparently got the water out of your lungs fast enough that there shouldn’t be any lasting damage, and your legs also have some torn muscles for the same reason as your wings but much less so. All in all, you only need to stay in bed and rest for three days.” She finished with a big smile.

Three days. He couldn’t stay curled up in a bed for three days. He had to… to… Well get home was the obvious answer but given that he was in a strangers house, in what he was pretty sure was another universe.

“Mr. Shade.”

Hell, the shock and drugs were probably the only reasons he wasn’t hyperventilating. He was almost certainly going to have some kind of nervous break down once all this wore off. Okay, no focus Sam. Focus, getting home is priority number one.

“Squall.”

Okay so step one learn magic. … Wait can’t only the unicorns do that?

“Equestria to Squall.”

Okay, step one find a unicorn, wow was it weird to think that seriously, and get them to, believe a story about being from another universe. Crap!

“Squall!”

Sam fell out of bed as Bitsworth shouted the name into his ear.

“What was that for?” Sam whined.

“It’s rude not to answer when someone repeatedly calls your name.” The butler said looking cross.

Sam blinked and looked to the Creme who gave him an apologetic smile. “I did try a few times.”

Why would? Oh, wait they were using an alias he wasn’t used too. He should probably start trying to think of himself by that name. It would be pretty obvious it was fake if he kept not responding to it. For now though. “Sorry must still be a little out of it. What did you want?”

“I was asking if you were hungry,” Creme said.

As if in response to the question Sam… er Squall’s stomach growled.

“Actually yeah, I haven’t eaten since.” He tried to think of when he had actually last eaten. “Haven’t eaten for a while now.”

“Wonderful I shall go attempt to wipe something up. Bitsworth would you be so kind as to help Mr. Shade back into bed. We don’t want him overtaxing himself now.” She said prancing out of the room.

Bitsworth walked calmly around the bed and shoved his head up under Sam. The butler lifted him with surprising ease and laid him in the bed rather gingerly. He grabbed the blanket with his mouth and draped it over the injured guest. “I shall go attend to the lady and see that she does not set the kitchen on fire making a salad again, But first is there anything else you would like before I leave.”

“Actually two things real quick, one could you open those curtains it’s little dark.” Sam, Squall he reminded himself, asked nodding his head to a window he had only notice when he was getting put back in bed.

“Certainly,” Bitsworth answered, quickly trotted across the room and pulled a rope splitting the drapes apart. The light showed it was already day again. He got a better view of the room as well now that it was well lit. In addition to the bed, he was laid out on the room had a hardwood floor with the center covered with a burgundy throw rug. A wardrobe made of polished mahogany sat in the corner of the room, odd unless it was the butler’s. Lastly in one corner of the room was a small wooden desk with a typewriter atop it and a stack of paper ready for use. To its side, a small wastebasket overflowing with crumpled papers.

“And your other request sir?” Bitsworth asked. “If you can find time could please scrounge me up a book or something. I’m going to be stuck in bed for three days, after all, I need something to do.”

“Of course sir. Any preferences?” The butler replied.

“Local legends on the off chance you’ve got something like that, I’m a bit of a nerd for stuff like that.” Unconfirmed rumors weren’t the best way to gather information but he was kind of strapped for options here. “Or you know an adventure story or two if that’s not an option.”

“I shall see what I can.”

“Bitsworth help!”

“Coming!” The butler galloped out of the room at a breakneck pace.

Well, this was going to be fun. Hunting down ways to jump realities. Despite not having even the baseline abilities needed to use whatever he might find. Without being able to tell anyone since even in a world of magical talking ponies and intelligent birds with pointer feathers, “Hey I’m from a reality where you’re all a children's television show” would probably sound a little absurd. Especially after he got through explaining what television was. Meaning he was all on his own for this. All of which might be less of a problem if he had the slightest idea where to even begin.

“The watermelon is on fire?! How is the watermelon of fire!?” Bitsworth’s voice echoed through the halls.

“I don’t know I was just trying to slice it and fwoosh!” Creme screamed in reply.

Well, either way, it wasn’t like he was doing anything for the next three days. Might as well study.

“Sweet Celestia it’s spread to the sink!”

Assuming his hosts didn’t accidentally burn him down before he could even start of course.

-/-

“Captain’s log. Stardate, Thursday. I have been trapped in this place for months.”

“It has been five days.” Bitsworth corrected. “Would have been three if somepony hadn’t insisted on constantly trying to get out of bed.”

Squall glared at the valet.

“Look the doctor will come by again today and assuming you get a clean bill of health you’re free to go.” Bitsworth rolled his eyes and sighed. “Honestly I have never seen a stallion so unwilling to be pampered by a cute, eager, young mare.”

“Well if it seems so fun to you maybe we can switch places, cause I feel like I’m gonna start climbing the walls if I don’t get a chance to start walking around soon.” Squall said. He couldn’t get angry at the stallion he reminded himself. It’s not his fault that there had been no information on how to return to Sam’s own world.

“Certainly, if you don’t mind spending another three days stuck in bed after injuring yourself again doing my job,” Bitsworth answered dryly.

“Curse you and your filthy logic.” Squall answered glaring flatly.

The self-satisfied look on Bitsworth face had almost been enough to get a shoddily scrawled journal pitched at him. At that moment the door had been flung open and by Creme and a white coat clad pony, sparring Bitsworth the wrath of the captain's log.

“Well, I trust you have avoided too much exertion this time.” Doctor Hock, the gray-maned mare in the coat, said giving Squall the stink eye.

“I haven’t left the bed since your last visit.” He answered honestly, seeing as how he had been tied to the thing with several rolls of cloth bandages by his hostess.

“Good then let’s get this over with.” The doc said with an annoyed glare. She then walked over and started poking him in the shoulder. No stabbing jolts of pain good. She continued prodding various spots on his limbs and bending most of his joints with various hums and nods. “Alright looks like your legs are reasonably healed, you can get up and walk around again but you should still avoid any movement faster than a trot or any real hard labor for another couple of days. Your right wing, however, will likely take another week before you can expect to fly again.”

“Well, thanks for telling me before I injured it, again,” Sam answered. Great now he had a legitimate excuse for why he didn’t go flying everywhere.

“I’m also going to advise against any more impromptu swims in the Hayson.” She continued with a stern look into his eyes.

“No problem.” He nodded, and it wouldn’t be. Why if Sam had any say in it he would never go swimming in any body of water larger than a kiddie pool again.

“Well, then I believe we’re done here.” The doctor turned to Creme and said. “You’ll get my bill in the mail.”

“Thank you Doctor Hock,” Creme said with a smile and nod. “Would you like a cookie before you leave, Bitsworth just made them.”

The doctor followed Creme towards the kitchen. Sam cringed as he watched. Right, the bill. Creme was footing that, and his food, and his bed, and. Yeah, he really needed to find a way to make that up to her.

“Well I hope you don’t live in Cloudsdale,” Bitsworth said with a chuckle.

“Yeah not getting there anytime soon.” Sam gave a weak chuckle. Oh, right he had no home. The cabin fever had actually made him forget. Jesus that’s where he was at right now, homeless jobless, injured, and with no idea where he should go or what he should do. Well, he was sure things could be worse. He could be in the river again.

…

Yes, he had reached the point where slow suffocation in was basically the only way he could think for things to get worse.

“Hey, Bitsworth if you were trying to find out about some obscure magic, like oh say forced long range teleportation, where would you go?” Squall asked.

“Hmm I suppose the royal library in Canterlot,” Bitsworth replied with a sideways glance. “And I presume that would be where you’re heading next isn’t it.”

“You presume correctly.” Well, at least he had a starting point. Had to wonder how long it would take to walk from, what was this place called again oh right, Manehatten to Canterlot. Also on the wonder list, why every city’s name was a horse pun.

“Well, then I suppose I shall inform Ms. De La Creme that we shall be escorting you to the train station.” The butler started to trot off.

“Well, the problem with that is all my money was lost in the river.” Sam lied. He was starting to get way too comfortable with doing that already. “So I was actually hoping if you knew anyplace that was hiring crippled pegasuses.”

“Pegasi, and I’m afraid not.” Bitsworth shook his head.

“Ah well, long shot anyway,” Sam said already thinking of how to get some money for a newspaper. Help wanted adds might provide something.

“Actually I do have a job in need of doing.” Creme’s voice came from the doorway.

Sam looked up to see his host smiling at him from the doorway.

“As it happens the night we met I was just finishing up arrangements for a small charity event.” She continued. “A concert to earn money to rebuild a local firehouse.”

“What happened to it?” Squall asked.

“Burned down.” She answered.

“Well that’s, Never mind what’s the job?” Sam asked.

“Oh nothing to difficult, You just have to see to the needs of the performers. Fetch them what they need, keep their rooms tidy, inform them when it’s almost time for the show, simple things.” She said with a look towards her valet. “Honestly I was simply going to ask Bitsworth but he’s been working so hard looking after you and doing his usual duties I think he has earned an evening's rest don’t you Squall?”

“I assure you I am more than capable.” Bitsworth looked decidedly unamused.

“Oh relax I’ll be more than happy to take a little work off your back. Besides If I didn’t find something to do soon I’d probably go crazy anyway.” Squall said. “I’ll take that offer.”

“Excellent the Concert is two nights from now. I’ll show you where to find the hall and I expect you there a good five hours before the event to get things ready.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He answered with a salute. Well, this wasn’t too bad he had a nice easy job working as a gopher. Honestly, what could possibly go wrong with that?

Author's Note

Yes, Sam's narration is going to bounce between calling him Sam and Squall for a few chapters. It seemed like having a guy with no real experience at this pretending to be other people seamlessly switch into using an alias without any trouble was a little wierd