Blue Moon

Suddenly, there was blurry white. There were sounds, bleeps and mechanical pumps. Numbness, followed by pain. I can't breathe... it hurts... Luna...

With weak arms, Pat managed to pull the tube out of his throat. He gasped loudly, his lungs taking in as much air as they could, his throat dry and sore. His vision began to clear, and he saw he wasn't in the castle's guest room anymore. The room he was in was white, bright, and had familiar monitors near his bed which had its rails up. He was in a hospital room. A human hospital room.

He began to shiver, holding his arms to his body. The act hurt them, his muscles having atrophied somewhat. They were thinner than they had been before. Oh God, what's going on? Why am I here? Why am I not there? Where's Luna? It had only been a few days that he had been conscious in Equestria, but the world around him felt alien already.

Just then his little brother walked in, holding a massive leather bound book with it's bookmark near the end. It was Pat's hardcover of Fallout Equestria. "Bro! You're awake!"

Pat was speechless. It had all been a dream. An amazing dream that went beyond anything he had ever experienced before. And it had felt so real... A dream? "Hey..." he said weakly. "What happened?"

His brother sat down in a chair that was next to the bed, in the same spot Luna had sat. "Well, you got shot. You lost a lot of blood, and then went into a coma. I think the doctor can explain why exactly better... there's some good news and bad news. The best news is you're awake! After a whole month too!" He said, hiding his concern with a hug. "I've been here every day, reading you a bit of this each time. Almost got to the end too... I don't know if you heard me though. I'm glad you're back with us."

A quarter hour of catching up on what Pat had missed later, the doctor walked in. "Good morning! Been a while since you've heard that, eh?" he joked, his smile wavering for a moment. "Well, lets get straight down to it. First off, you've almost completely recovered from the gunshot wound. The bullet punctured a lung, but missed your vitals and major blood vessels. You're a very lucky person, if I might say.

"Now, there's no easy way to tell you this next part. So I'll just say it: When you were brought in, we ran a CAT scan, and accidentally found a tumor in your brain. It's in an area that would be hard to operate on, but we've caught it early enough for other treatments to likely be highly effective. The tumor is the reason you were unconscious for so long. It started to press on areas responsible for the subconscious and waking. It seems that the trauma and blood loss intensified its effects, causing a short coma," he finished.

Pat was quiet for a minute. "So, this affects like dreams and stuff too?"

The doctor nodded."Yes, it does. Eventually, if it worsens, hallucinations and delusions wouldn't be uncommon."

Pat was silent longer. "So all the crazy dreams I was having while I was out, that's from the tumor?"

The doc looked puzzled, "You don't dream during a coma. The monitors show no REM brainwave patterns, and so it would have been impossible for you to have dreamed anything while you were out."

Pat decided to stay quiet.

He stayed quiet all day.

He went home the next day. It felt like a strange place, though he had seen it in a dream just days before. Well, a dream's dream it seemed. His room was as he left it. His cat had been well cared for while he was out, and she lazily lay on his bed before noticing him, bolting to his side and meowing up a storm of "I missed you"s in cat-speak. He weakly reached down and pet her, but was unable to lift her. To his credit, the cat did weigh almost twenty pounds.

He absentmindedly said "hey fatcat..." as he looked his room over again. His dream's dream had foregone the little things. The various posters covering the walls. The pony calendar. The pony figures all styled and littering the shelves. And the Princess Luna plush laying on the bed's pillows. It was of fine crafting. The person who had made her was quite the artist. But there was no way she could compare to the real thing. Not now. Regardless, Pat lay on his bed and held the stuffed pony, while his cat jumped up and lay next to him.

And he cried.

Radiation therapy for the tumor was scheduled to begin at the end of the week. Pat barely ate, but talked with his family a bit. His mother and brother granted him his wish to be left alone mostly, and at one point his father, who had had very little to do with him since he had abandoned Pat as a child to pursue life as a single man again, visited. His mom and dad ignored each other, but they were there for him all the same.

He felt tired all the time. Sore. He hadn't moved for a month. He started doing therapeutic exercises to strengthen his weakened muscles. He could comfortably eat on his own by the end of the week.

He talked to his friends online, fellow bronies. He told them about his dream. Some thought it was an awesome dream, some thought he had actually gone to Equestria. They all asked him the same thing though. "If you had to choose, would you come back or stay there?" He couldn't answer them.

He wrote up the story as a fanfic, on a whim. He made up a fake ending where he didn't have anything to live for back home. Where he could stay forever. Where he did stay forever. It got warm reception, but few views.

He went in for treatment on Friday. As he was set up in the machine, he couldn't stop thinking about the one thing he had on his mind since waking up. How could it all have been a dream? How could she have been a dream? I feel like someone died.

A voice. "Pat! Pat! Wake up, please for the love of the moon WAKE UP!"

A loud, gorgeous, commanding voice.

Pat's eyes fluttered open. He was in bed again. An Equestrian-made bed. With a dark blue pony's hooves wrapped around his neck, his shoulder feeling wet. He heard a sniffle by his ear, and a whisper. "Don't die... please, not after he left me. Don't die..."

He put his arms around her, holding her tight. Her wings sprang up in shock, "You live!"

He didn't let her go. She felt good in his arms, she smelled good, she sounded good. He quietly said, "I'm afraid if I let you go, you won't exist anymore. That you'll just disappear."

She let out a relieved laugh, "No. It is you who I am afraid will vanish." They broke the embrace, pat looking upon her beautiful tear-stained face, gazing deeply into her bright teal eyes. Her eyes were happy, practically dancing in relief. "You were unconscious again for several days. Just now, you convulsed horribly and then stopped breathing. I thought you were..." she trailed off.

"I had a dream. In it, I wasn't dead, and I had actually dreamed you up. Or maybe it's that this is the dream, and there is real..." he too trailed off.

"No."  She said it firmly and without hesitation. "This is no dream. From the one who created dreams, I know this is not one. Do you need proof? You feel pain. You cannot control the world around you in any way. Everything makes sense and nothing is faint or fuzzy. The feelings you feel are real. As are mine."

Pat thought about it. "I'm sorry, it's just... everything was so real there too. But it couldn't have been real." He felt that last part to be a lie, but feared what reality may actually be. So he embraced the fantasy. "What does that last part imply?"

Luna looked at him sternly but softly, "I care about you. More than anypony else, save for sister. I feel... strongly towards you. I watched you for a month. You were mine to care for. I saw your fleeting thoughts and dormant consciousness. I did not know you, yet I knew you. And then you awoke, and I talked with you, and now I know even more of you. Inside me... There is something there, and I don't want it to go away. 'Tis not love, but mayhaps the saplings of it taking root. And your death just now, however brief, almost broke me. So take from that what you will. I know you have a deep seated love for me. So I ask of you, be patient. Please."

He put his hand on her hoof and with the other brushed a remaining tear from her cheek. "Of course, my princess." They looked upon each other softly for minutes on end, before she had to leave to catch up on her works, having missed out on another week.

"I will see you again soon, Pat. Please... do not scare me like that again. Very few things hold that kind of power over one such as I. Rest well," she finished. She left the room, leaving him alone.

And Pat sat in bed, wondering if he was dreaming or awake. He thought about his life up to this point. Family. Friends. Home. Everything.

He sat in bed, wondering if he was dreaming or awake. And if he was dreaming, if he wanted to wake.

Luna raced through a hall, tears flowing freely again, out to a balcony, and threw herself off the edge.

She plummeted down the side of the castle, then down the cliff face, the salty droplets falling with her. She threw her wings out, using the momentum and sudden lift to rocket back upward, laughing brightly, her smile wide and joyous. She flapped her proud wings, gaining altitude, and briefly eclipsed the sun.

He is alive! She flew over Canterlot, relief washing over her. He worries me still. His mind seems to be rejecting Equestria. I must delve into these dreams he is having. Perhaps I may find a cause to all this, and solve it. But he is alive!

She returned to the castle after she had calmed down and her face was dry once more. She blissfully trotted up to her bedroom, foregoing what work there was to be done, and passed out on her bed, the first sleep she had gotten in a week.

He had slept briefly, but it was still hours before dusk. Pat stretched, noticing he didn't feel as weak as he had before. So he figured what the hell.

He pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. So far, so good. He braced himself with his arms, slowly pushing up, and shifted onto his feet. And he was standing. Heh, piece of cake! He tried to take a step forward and tripped over himself, not used to moving his legs. He threw a hand out to catch himself, and it went through the bedside dresser like paper.

He stood there for a time, staring at the hole in the furniture. And he slowly pulled it out. He held a piece of the wood in his hands, and tried to break it in half. The thick hardwood snapped like a toothpick. He let it clatter to the floor, flexing his fingers. Did the spells Luna used work too well?

He picked his foot up, it moving faster and more solidly than he remembered his feet moving. He set it down, wondering if this was the sign that this was all in his mind. He shook his head, pushing away those thoughts. Instead, he replaced them with a hearty, I'm going for a walk.