From my head down to my toes
Author's Note
It's not a seperate chapter! Honest! It's a conclusion! A sequel! There's no more after this! This is it! Oh God please don't hurt me! I didn't mean it!
Ahem.
If this had a message or a point I've quite forgotten what it is but I'm clearing house and so this gets finished. For better or for worse.
From my head down to my toes
“Still here then?”
Andy - still mostly asleep and swaddled in the most deliciously soft bedding he could remember having ever been cocooned in - took a second or three to identify this voice. Indeed, it took him some other seconds on top of that to remember why it was he was somewhere comfortable at all, or how he’d got there, or why he was doing anything.
It came to him in dribbles, pooling together and collecting and forming a picture he could work with.
Starlight Glimmer, wasn’t it? Ridiculous name. They all had ridiculous names.
She was nice though. Had snuck him in, let him sleep here. Indeed, had practically insisted he do so! She wasn’t so bad.
Or at least she hadn’t been until she’d come in to wake him up. Andy rolled away from the direction her voice was coming and groaned.
“Shh. I’m having a dream someone was nice to me for no good reason,” he said, pulling the duvet further up over his head to shield himself from the horrifying glare of the morning sun.
Starlight’s eye roll was almost audible. Though that could have just been Andy’s imagination.
“Oh quiet, you. Come on, time to get up,” she said, sounding closer now. Andy curled up tighter.
“You make a compelling case but, you know, bed.”
“Outside the bed is breakfast, I hear.”
That got his attention.
“Breakfast?” He asked, head just poking up from beneath the covers.
“Uh huh. Most important meal of the day,” Starlight said.
With a great effort Andy managed to roll over, finding her stood perhaps a foot away from the bedside. In full-on daylight she looked different somehow, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Or had she looked that adorable last night? Andy couldn’t remember.
He then noticed he was staring, so blinked, propping himself up on an elbow, casual-like.
“So they say,” he said.
Starlight reared up onto her hind legs, resting her forehooves on the side of the bed the better to get level with Andy, then saying:
“And all it takes is for you to get out of the bed. Because I’m sure not bringing it to you here.”
“That’s fair,” he said. “I take it it’s top-notch stuff?”
“Oh, the best,” Starlight said with far more emphasis that was required. Andy used his free hand to stroke his chin, also hamming it up for all he was worth.
“You make an even more compelling case…” He said. Starlight nodded at this, as though this much was obvious and barely needed pointing out. Andy grinned, starting to find the whole affair quite charming, particular how the two of them seemed to both be playing along to something neither of them had explicitly initiated.
“Twilight will also be at breakfast. This will give you an excellent opportunity to apologise to Twilight for running away like you did,” Starlight then said.
Andy’s face fell.
“But! But I - !” His protests died, because not even he could summon up enough energy to begin imagining himself beyond blame. Groaning he flopped back and let the covers swallow him again. “Ugh, you’re right. I was a horrible, ungrateful person.”
“Yes, yes you were,” Starlight said and Andy scrambled up into a sitting position once more, or at least as much as the bedclothes would allow given how thoroughly enmeshed with them he was.
“You’re not supposed to agree! You’re supposed to either disagree or just pat me reassuringly and say nothing!” He said, brimming with indignity. Starlight took the hit.
“Friendship is about honesty,” she said.
“Urrgghhh…”
Andy fell over sideways - away from Starlight - in a puff of bedclothes and disappeared from view almost completely.
“Or you could stay here and not have breakfast,” Starlight said, craning her neck to stretch up higher.
“The bed is good,” he said, a voice from amidst the duvet. “But breakfast is probably the better option. Turns out - and this might sound obvious - that food is a good thing.”
“You probably should have made sure I was sitting for that one.”
“Ha ha,” Andy grumbled, shuffling about in place to swing his legs out of bed, Starlight backing up to give him the space to do this. Once his feet were touching the floor he took a moment to sit and stare groggily into space, yawning again.
“Alright,” he said, more to himself than to Starlight. “Apologise. I can do that. I should do that. It’ll be easy, right? Just say how sorry I am for being ungrateful, running away, generally being obtuse and awkward and making life difficult for everybody. I can do that.”
“Maybe a little heavy on the throwing yourself under the cart but it’s a start,” said Starlight.
Andy considered this, and was immediately transfixed by a spear of intense doubt that came out of absolutely nowhere, as such things were liable to from time to time.
“It’s probably going to go wrong though, isn’t? She’ll probably be so mad at me! I should just run away again, I think,” he said, looking to Starlight for confirmation on what a good idea this was. Her face practically shouted how unimpressed she was.
“That’s an awful idea, no,” she said.
“Are you sure? It seems pretty good to me. Pretty airtight.”
Starlight sighed and reared back again, this time putting her hooves onto Andy’s knees, which got his attention, as did her rather comforting, low-key smile as she spoke.
“Look, just be calm. This is not a huge deal, it’s just something you should do. You’ll do it, it’ll be done, that’ll be that and we can all eat breakfast. Getting worried about it is only going to make it worse for no good reason.”
Andy considered this, too, and could almost feel that spear of doubt withdrawing. Leaving behind the sucking wound of, uh, renewed confidence?
His imagery wasn’t quite what it used to be. But he got the drift.
“You’re right. Again. You keep doing that,” he said.
“I think I’m just having a run of good luck,” Starlight said, hopping down again and stepping back.
“Hah! She said! I doubt it. I just think you’re good at this. Alright, yeah you’re right. Just a little thing. And it’s not that hard! It’s just what has to happen. I just feel so bleh. Brains feel like scrambled egg. I’m just in a bit of a funk, I think,” Andy said.
“I had noticed. It’s okay. Happens to all of us, right? And I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks.”
A pause.
“I’m, uh, naked under here, by the way, so could you just avert your eyes a second?”
“Oh, uh, right. Okay. Sure,” she said, having largely forgotten that this might have been an issue and - now being aware again that it was an issue - suddenly being more embarrassed about it than she really felt she should be. She turned away.
Andy’s nudity was a direct result of his shower the previous night, which had necessitated the removal of what little remained of his clothing. These remains had been left abandoned on the floor of Starlight’s bathroom, where she had mistaken them for miscellaneous trash and thus thrown away.
Not that Andy had really considered going to try and get them again, though. They’d looked pathetic enough after he’d stripped them off that the thought of going to the trouble of getting them to cover his personal effects - as it were - just didn’t strike him as worth it.
This is all a very roundabout way of saying that Andy dressed himself in a bedsheet, much to Starlight’s bewilderment and consternation.
“You could just not wear anything,” she suggested as the two of them made their way to breakfast. Andy had to follow Starlight, because he would get lost otherwise. Despite having technically been a guest in the castle - briefly - he had never got the layout down.
“Really don’t want to put anyone off their food. It’s a cultural thing, you know?” He said, glancing around, using one hand to scratch the other.
“Yeah yeah, I heard. Still weird though,” Starlight said.
“Willingly shunning pockets is a sign of barbarism.”
“I think hunger might be starting to affect you more than you realise.”
Andy’s stomach chose this moment to speak up in loud, growling agreement. Its timing was absolutely perfect. So perfect that the two of them were stunned to silence.
“You’re probably right,” Andy said once he was recovered enough to speak.
Not long after this they arrived at their destination, Starlight entering first with Andy reluctantly bringing up the rear.
“Good Morning Starlight! How-” Twilight said, stopping as Andy hove into view through the doors. “Andy!”
Immediately she rushed over and leapt up, grappling Andy in a hug that caught him off-guard and nearly toppled him over backwards. Starlight caught him, though, and he managed to get upright again with Twilight still clinging on.
“Uh, hi,” he said, very gingerly patting her on the back as she dangled.
“I was so worried about you!”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine though,” he mumbled, looking over Twilight’s shoulder down at Starlight in a desperate, silent bid for help. Starlight wasn’t really sure what he wanted her to do, and mouthed as such. Twilight just kept on hugging.
Just after this started getting awkward Starlight finally intervened and tugged on one of Twilight’s legs, getting her to disengage, dropping to the floor with a distinct lack of grace and then picking herself up again.
“Sorry,” she said, dusting herself off and resettling her wings. “I was just so worried about you!”
“Yeah, got that. But I’m back now. Hi,” Andy said, waving a little, already starting to squirm in place. Starlight repositioned herself behind him.
Again Andy’s gut made its opinion and immediate desires known, and loudly at that.
“Oh! You must be hungry!” Twilight said. She had a lot of things she could have said then - something about how ragged he looked, where had his clothes gone, why was he covered in scratches etcetera - but the noise kind of crowded these options out for the moment.
Andy quickly found himself ushered into a seat and sat down, whereupon about half of the various breakfast options that had been laid out were promptly pushed across the table towards him, very nearly hiding him from view.
“Do you think that’s enough?” Starlight asked, taking her own seat a little way down the table. Twilight genuinely looked concerned for a moment before Andy cleared a gap in the abundance of breakfast and said:
“More than enough, thank you. I mean really, this is more than I can physically eat. Thank you.”
A significant look from Starlight was sufficient to remind Andy that there was something he should probably get out of the way before tucking in. That was she was able to so efficiently and so succinctly communicate this with naught but a glance was pretty impressive, Andy felt, especially given that that sort of easy communication usually took a lot of practise. He supposed that he and her must have been on the same wavelength. At least on this.
“Uh, Twilight, can I - can I have a word with you? Just quickly?” He mumbled, coughing and trying to speak up, coming across just loud enough for Twilight to hear. Her ears perked up and she trotted on over, bright as anything.
“Yes?” She asked.
Wringing his hands in his lap Andy forced himself to look Twilight in the face before speaking, and to look her in the eye, too. This was difficult, as there was a lot of eye to look at, and Andy immediately felt even more on the spot than he had to start with.
But he pushed on anyway, acutely aware of Starlight being there and feeling a sudden and overwhelming pressure not to let her down. She had, after all, kind of gone out on a limb to help him out.
Hell, they all had. That was the problem!
He swallowed.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Twilight blinked, cocked her head.
“Sorry? For what?”
“For, ugh, lots of things. Everything? My behaviour in general. Being a huge tit. Just, you know, running off, riding over all of the nice things every one of you was doing for me. I was - I wasn’t great. I wasn’t thinking. It was cuntish and I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have done it. S’dumb.”
By the time he’d gone through with this rather idiosyncratic apology he had stopped looking her in the face, finding it far too difficult to have to see how his words were landing in real time.
A hoof on the knee caught his attention and he glanced up long enough to see that Twilight was not, as he had expected, furious with him. Indeed, she was actually still smiling. Somehow.
“Would you like some tea?” She asked. Andy, drained, could only nod. Duly a teapot was brought over, but tipping it resulted in only the tiniest of tiny dribbles, much to Twilight’s consternation.
“Oh,” she said, taking the lid off, as though she needed to. “Empty! I’ll go make some more. Be right back!”
And off she went. Andy watched her go, feeling like a burden, but that wasn’t exactly unusual.
“Princess, making tea. For me! God she’s helpful,” he said, jolting in his seat a second later on noticing - feeling more than seeing - Starlight standing next to him. She plainly relished in having made him jump, but didn’t make a thing of it. Instead, she said:
“Well done.”
Andy shrugged, shoulders slumping, hands in his lap.
“It was just saying sorry, it wasn’t hard,” he said.
Starlight gave him a poke. When this didn’t do anything she gave him another, and then another until he finally took the hint and actually looked at her.
“True, but I know it was hard for you, so well done,” she said.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to throw that back in your face like that. I know you’re being supportive. Thank you for that.”
“It’s okay, Andy.”
“I’m just apologising so much!” He groused.
“There is a time for that sort of thing.”
“Now, apparently!”
Rearing back onto her hind legs and balancing against Andy’s thigh with one hoof she used the other to grab one of his hands. That certainly got his attention, which had been the whole point. Shut him up, too. That had been the other point.
“Hey, hey. Just relax. Remember about the relaxing? I’m your friend, Twilight’s your friend, we’re all friends and we all want to help. That’s it. Now just think about breakfast,” she said, staring him down.
She really did, Andy noted, have very big eyes. But then again they all did so that was hardly unusual. He swallowed, and to his great surprise actually did find himself starting to relax.
“Sounds manageable,” he said. Starlight smiled and set back down onto all fours.
“Thought it might.”
She then resumed her seat, just in time for Twilight’s return with the tea.
“Here you go!” Twilight said brightly, levitating the steaming pot over and pouring out a measure into Andy’s cup. Andy felt a sudden spike of the purest gratitude, and added milk.
“Thank you,” he said, drinking and scalding himself and deciding to maybe let it cool a little before trying again. Twilight, beaming, went and sat back down herself. Breakfast could then resume.
Andy, ravenous, ate far too much far too quickly and suffered for it.
“I regret, ugh, a lot of things actually,” he was later to groan, clutching his guts. “Specially right now though it’s the eating too much. Urgh, oh man.”
-
Andy spent the rest of the day after breakfast- and after he’d stopped feeling quite so sorry for himself for over-eating - in conversation with Twilight, a conversation Starlight was not privy to.
This was fine. Starlight had other things to be getting on with anyway and so got on out and got on on with them. One thing led to another and, eventually, she wound up back where she’d started the day - in her room, on her bed, feeling like she’d been putting her time to good use.
Mere minutes after she’d got back and flopped onto the bed though, there came a gentle tapping at the door. Starlight groaned and forced herself upright, having previously been sprawled on her back staring at the ceiling and wondering if it was too late for her to squeeze a nap in.
“Yes?” She asked, loudly, so that she wouldn’t have to get up. The door inched open and Andy’s head poked in.
“I didn’t wake you up or anything did I?” He asked. On seeing that it was just Andy, Starlight had let herself flop back again. She waved a hoof in his direction.
“No. I just got back. You’re still here?”
“For now, yes,” he said. This was suggestive.
“You running away again?”
“Hah. No. Worse than that.”
This was sufficient to, again, have Starlight propping herself up. If Andy was going to be talking to her she figured it might be worth actually, properly sitting up, so she worked on that while giving him a quizzical look.
“Worse?”
Andy slipped into the room and shut the door behind him, checking conspiratorially over his shoulder before tip-toeing to the bed and taking a knee so he was more level with Starlight. All this she watched, nonplussed.
“She’s setting me up with a house! A house!” He hissed.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Her utterly flat delivery did much to knock the wind out of Andy’s sails and he faltered. Really though, on reflection, he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. You say that to most people they’d probably fail to see the problem. To him it had been obvious, but a lot of the groundwork for why it was obvious had been done just in his head, and so was unavailable to everyone else.
“I don’t - I don’t deserve a house! What have I done?” He asked. Starlight blinked at him, making sure to do so slowly, to really drive the point across that she was not getting his point.
“...you have to do something to be able to live inside?”
Andy could see he wasn’t going anywhere with this. Grunting he shifted around so he could sit back on his haunches and pout at her for not playing along.
“Well if you put it like that then I can’t think of what I’m supposed to say,” he said.
“...sorry?” Starlight proffered, taking a punt that what was required here was an apology. Certainly, she wasn’t sure where Andy wanted it to go. Apparently, not where she’d taken it.
He grunted again and put his face in his hands.
“Agh! Stop! Just - ugh, this is me doing it again, isn’t it? Fuck fuck.”
He rubbed his face, took a breath, let his hands down.
“I’m a neurotic bag of knotted string. I was a neurotic bag of knotted string back home, too, but I’d managed to settle into a comfortable enough rut that it wasn’t that much of an issue. Now here everyone is so nice to me and it’s spilled the string all over the floor. If you follow.”
“Surprisingly, I do. Although I’m not sure how that makes me feel.”
Starting to actually understand Andy could not be healthy, after all, him being a bag of knotted string. Who’d want to get tangled up in that? So to speak.
“I thought it was compelling imagery!” He said, continuing to pout. Not an attractive look for a grown man.
“Oh, it was,” Starlight said with deadly seriousness. Andy was set to say something else vaguely petulant but possibly also jokey but then he paused, assessing how things were going.
“...this is me needing to relax again, isn’t it?” He asked.
“Maybe.”
“I’m out of practise for relaxing,” he said, fully now sitting on the floor, shuffling back to give his legs some room and resting back on his elbows, all of this on the luxuriant rug that Starlight had spread out about the place. He looked like he was making himself at home. Starlight considered calling him out on this, but then decided against it. Hardly friendly.
Instead she shifted around herself so she was now perched on the edge of the bed, the better to talk down to him now that Andy was closer to ground level.
“You talk to Twilight about anything else then? Or just about a house for like a solid hour? Or two?” She asked.
“No, no, we talked about a bunch of stuff. It was agony. I apologised some more, we talked about what I could do to settle in better, find something to do, that sort of thing. Clothes, clothes - we talked about those. Uh, yeah. Agony, like I said. Productive, mind.”
Starlight nodded, satisfied, then asked:
“So why’d you come back to see me?”
The question clearly took Andy off guard, as he just looked confused.
“Hmm?”
“Did Twilight send you to talk to me?”
Andy looked even more confused at that.
“What? No. Why would she? Does she do that sort of thing? I just wanted to talk to someone about it. Don’t have anyone else. I thought we were friends!”
“We met yesterday,” Starlight pointed out.
Never the best at keeping track of time, Andy - and hopping worlds and roughing it hadn’t exactly helped. He blinked at Starlight a moment as the wheels turned in his head.
“...did we? Oh God, you’re right. I’m losing the plot. Sorry. I just kind of wanted to vent, you know? And like I say I don’t have anyone else.”
“Could have vented to Twilight,” Starlight suggested, to Andy’s bewilderment.
“About Twilight?” He asked.
“Ah, I see your problem now.”
An impasse. Andy sighed and made to get up again.
“Alright, I’ll leave you to it, then,” he said. Starlight held out a hoof to stay him.
“No it’s fine, you can stay. I’m not doing anything,” she said.
Andy stayed put, halfway between sitting and standing, wobbling a little and raising an eyebrow at her. Belatedly she noticed that he was no longer wearing the bedsheet and now actually had trousers and a shirt. Neither fitted, and it was unclear where they’d come from, but they were there.
A definite improvement, she reckoned.
“You sure?” Andy asked her.
Starlight smiled, nodded.
“Totally. You can even sit up here if you want,” she said, putting the general area of bed beside her. Andy looked it as though she was patting a minefield.
“Ah, heh, no. No thank you. Very kind but I’m fine down here.”
“Are you though? You’re sitting on the floor.”
“Lots of people sit on the floor.”
“Lots of friends sit next to other friends on their beds while talking and don’t make a deal about it.”
Andy had a feeling that arguing this point would be more trouble than it was worth, even if he could properly work out why he’d want to argue it in the first place. And he wasn’t wholly sure he could put his misgivings into words. At least, not with the time he had available.
“...fine. On sufferance,” he said, heaving to his feet and gingerly settling himself a comfortable distance away from her on the bed, acting as though it might burst into flames at any moment.
Starlight radiated how unimpressed she was with this, but got over it comfortably enough.
“I’ll bear that in mind,” she said.
This episode put a kink into the conversation. Andy sat with his legs together and his hands back in his lap, where they always seemed to end up whenever he felt as though things were slipping out of his control. Starlight sighed and shuffled around on the spot so she was facing him.
“And you talked about something you could do?” She asked.
“Oh yeah. Like, for work kind of, you know? Make me feel less useless, heh. Not the words she used, but kind of the point I suppose. Fair play to her. Said she’s going to talk to someone called Mortis?”
This having been the conclusion from a more general conversation where Twilight had managed - tortuously - to wheedle out of Andy some things he was actually capable of doing. Not things he was good at, being as how Andy was very clear that he wasn’t good at anything. But things he had done before and so things he could likely do again, if given the opportunity.
Starlight was pleasantly surprised. She was aware of Mortis.
“Mortis Gage? She makes furniture. Do you...make furniture…?” She asked.
Starlight looked at him, as though this was the sort of thing you could tell by sight. It was not, and she couldn’t. He looked pretty much the same as he’d done when she’d met him, albeit cleaner and not so close to naked.
“Not as a rule, no. But I’ve done similar. Worked some wood in my time. Apparently that’s all Twilight needed. I’ll probably make a right hash of it but whatever, that’s future-Andy’s problem.”
“You’ll be fine,” Starlight said. Andy sucked his teeth warily.
“Wouldn’t be so sure about that. I’m a little okay at a few things, unlike you guys who are usually a lot good at one thing. I can’t really compete with that. I’m going up against you Moties and your weirdo caste system.”
This was around the point where Starlight lost Andy’s thread completely.
“What?”
“Okay, that was unkind, sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just feel - there’s not a whole lot I can do. Well, there is, but there isn’t a whole lot I can do that someone else here couldn’t do better, probably.”
Starlight hadn’t felt he’d been particularly unkind - at least not to anyone but himself - but that was more because she hadn’t got what his joke had been about than anything else. She was however detecting a rising level of self-deprecation that seemed to be rapidly going above what was normal even for Andy. She wasn’t a fan.
“It’s not a contest,” she said. “Just because you can’t do something the best out of everypony doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. The world’s a big place. Lot of ponies in it.”
“People.”
“Ponies.”
“Well, whatever. Either or. Both!”
She eyed him closely while he fidgeted and kept his eyes down.
“I get the feeling you’re not enthusiastic about furniture,” she said and Andy shrugged.
“It’s not that. I’ll do just about anything I’m told to do to the best of my abilities. It’s just that my abilities are shocking. It’s going to end in disappointment and lowered expectations but we just have to go through the motions before then. I’ve danced this dance before.”
Starlight frowned at him. She was not a fan of this talk.
“If you never try because you won’t be the absolute best then you’ll just never do anything. Why not just do what you want to do and enjoy what happens?”
“You read all this in a book?” Andy asked, glancing up. Starlight was having none of this. Her expression made that quite clear.
“I am trying to help you,” she said.
Andy had to look away again, shrinking in on himself.
“Sorry. I know. Sorry. You’re right, too. I know you are. It’s sitting in my head and it’s obvious I just don’t like acknowledging it.”
There was a lot of useful stuff kicking around Andy’s head that he put a lot of effort into pretending wasn’t there. Years of practise had gone into this. To what end was unclear, but such was life. He’d get around to fixing it at some point he was sure. Soon.
Starlight reached out and gave him a pat on the knee.
“I think you should. Friendly advice,” she said.
“Heh. See what you did there. Friends.”
A pause. The hoof withdrew. The pause continued.
“Do you want a hug?” Starlight asked, unprompted. It had just come to her out of nowhere. Just seemed like a good idea to her. The sort of thing a friend might do.
Andy considered this sudden offer.
“A friendly one?” He asked.
Rising to her hooves on the bed Starlight shook her head.
“It’s actually an excuse to get in close so I can grope you,” she said.
“Ah well, you could have just asked for that,” he said as he opened his arms.
Hugging occurred, groping did not. Both parties found the hug by turns both intensely awkward and oddly comforting. It was difficult to pin down which of these was the stronger, and the more they tried to work out how they felt about it the longer the hug went on for.
Andy was the one to speak first, the hug continuing, unbroken:
“You have a lot of patience for me,” he said, his chin resting on Starlight’s head, the horn perilously close. From this distance it looked a lot less blunt than it did the rest of the time. But maybe everything looked pointier when in a position to poke out your eye.
Starlight, enveloped, shrugged. Or did her best to.
“It’s not a big deal,” she said.
“I appreciate it.”
“You could always try it on yourself. Patience, I mean.”
A bold suggestion from Starlight.
“Hah. She said. Maybe one day.”
“We live in hope.”
This seemed as good a time as any for the hug to finally end and so end it did, Starlight disengaging and backing away to settle down again while Andy’s hands returned to his lap.
If Starlight had hoped the hug might somehow magically dispel the curious and rising sense of awkwardness while also just making Andy cheer up generally she found herself disappointed. Things were still awkward, and Andy still looked kind of miserable.
Though with Andy it was difficult to tell. He’d looked like that since she’d met him. Barring one or two rare, brief moments. She’d rather liked those moments. A much better side of him.
There came the urge to try and draw out some more of those moments. Or, failing that, at least stop things sinking back into silence.
“So. Woodworking, huh?” She prodded, for want of a better subject.
“A smattering. I’ve done a smidgen carpentry in my time,” Andy said, shrugging. Starlight - who could remember what his little shelter had been like - was unconvinced and looked it, too.
“Could have fooled me,” she said.
Andy knew what she was referring to here. There wasn’t a whole lot else she could be referring to. He felt the reflexive need to defend his shelter from slander. Shitty as it might have been, he’d put something that might be mistaken for effort into it.
“Hey, you try hammering nails in with your bare hands. If I’d had nails in the first place. Which I didn’t,” he said.
“I have hooves,” Starlight said, holding one of hers up for the sake of example.
“Oh shut up, you…” Andy said, though he couldn’t help but grin at least a little bit. Starlight noticed this. Not quite a full smile but definitely something. Better than nothing, certainly.
“Still, it’s good that you’ve got something you can do,” she said.
“Hardly impressive. I’ll fit a lock, I’ll hang a door. Just little things.”
“That’s still something. More than I could do.”
“Yeah but you got magic,” Andy said, as though this was a trump card.
Starlight gave him a sideways look.
“I can’t magic doors.”
Andy honestly had no idea how magic worked. Up until that point he had just sort of vaguely assumed that you could magic doors somehow, but hadn’t really considered the details of it. Learning that this wasn’t the case kind of knocked him off-balance.
“...probably could if you tried hard enough, you seem pretty damn smart,” he mumbled, looking away.
“Your confidence lifts me up,” Starlight said, though her very genuine smile kind of cut into her sardonic delivery. He hadn’t put a whole lot of thought into what he’d said, he’d just said it. That it had just slipped out was rather nice, she felt.
Andy, sighing, finally seemed to relax the tiniest bit and leaned backwards, putting his hands out to keep himself from just straight-up lying down on her bed. He looked at the ceiling but saw nothing there to talk about.
“No,” he said. “No, things could be worse. In fact, things are better. I feel much better, and I blame you.”
Andy gave her a wag of the finger but this cleared up nothing.
“Is that the right choice of words?” Starlight asked, unsure.
“Just saying. I was at a low ebb, I bump into you - or you into me, more accurately - and it jolts me back onto a much better way than I was going before. We met yesterday! And look what happened. Just like that,” he snapped his fingers. “That’s pretty good, I’d say. And your fault. You living jolt, you. Knocked me for six but good.”
“Thanks?”
This was another of those occasions where Starlight was finding it sort of difficult to follow whatever pinball-trajectory the thoughts inside Andy’s head were following. She did kind of get the gist though, and the gist seemed pleasant enough. Assuming she was getting it correctly.
“It’s alright. I’ll figure some way of paying you back. Paying all you lot back. Then we’ll be square and you’ll all stop helping me," Andy said, putting his hands beneath his head, satisfied with this vision of the future.
Starlight arched an eyebrow.
“That your happy ending, is it?” She asked.
“Pretty much. The epilogue is me sitting in a comfortable chair drinking tea and eating cake.”
He waved a hand in the air as he painted this imagination picture. Starlight stood and stretched, moving over the few steps between them so she could look down at him, smiling lopsidedly. He was an odd one, she had to admit.
“Nice. Could I get in on that when it happens?” She asked.
Andy double-took, having not expected this.
“Uh, you would not be excluded. If you wanted in.”
Starlight shrugged.
“I like cake,” she said.
Couldn’t argue with that.
“Alright, I’ll invest in another chair. But it’s just for you, okay? No plus-ones,” Andy said firmly and for reasons she could not fully fathom Starlight found her smile becoming less lopsided and more the full deal.
“That works for me.”
-
The house that Andy was being set up with did not happen overnight, as modestly sized as it did eventually turn out to be.
Whilst it was being seen to, Andy hung around purple’s place, staying in the same room that Starlight had managed to get him into. Despite well-founded worries that one day they might just wake up and find him gone again, this did not happen, much to both Twilight and Starlight’s surprise and relief.
He also finally got that wound of his looked at, after much pleading and batting of eyelids from Twilight and silent, judging, stony glares from Starlight. Obviously it was the latter that really tipped it for him. Said it was like the Telltale Heart, always just feeling those eyes pressing in on him no matter where he was. Starlight said she was happy to be of service.
The gash had healed up alarmingly well in what little time he’d had since acquiring it, but it was still probably wise to have a medical professional confirm that, yes, it was fine but maybe don’t go into the woods again for a bit if you valued not being sliced up.
Andy took this advice on-board.
Later that very same day he also met Mortis Gage for the first time and found her formidable but pleasant enough. Seemed she really did have some uses for him, rusty as he was. If he was willing to learn a thing or two - and he was - and just stick to doing what he was told to do then she was fairly confident she could have a steady gig for him. Andy was cautiously optimistic, and things looked good.
Perhaps a week following this the house was declared fit for his habitation.
Formerly an abandoned shack out towards the further reaches of Ponyville it had been through sheer generous charity and well-meaning hard work refurbished and endowed with enough spare furniture for Andy to live there quite comfortably.
He was, obviously, aghast at this generosity but the close presence of Starlight - who insisted on standing right by him with her hoof on his leg when all this was presented - prevented him from running away again.
Indeed, her being there even coaxed him into actually thanking everyone involved. He even meant it!
“None of you needed to do this,” he’d said, shuffling his feet and utterly unable to look any of those gathered in the eye. “But you did and I think that’s kind of you lot all over, really. I - thank you. I know you’d all probably say I don’t need to do anything to deserve this but, well, I’m going to try anyway. Try and be worth all your effort. Thank you.”
Andy never had been great at speeches.
Starlight gave him a few days to settle in, figuring that he’d appreciate some breathing room. Twilight was still the one nominally charged with ensuring his welfare - him being an unwilling visitor and guest, after all - so it was her who was the one who should really have been checking up on him, and check up on him Twilight did.
His continued not-running-away continued to surprise and delight. At this point he was actually getting a little sour that they kept expecting him to do it.
“I know I’ve got a history but it was a moment of weakness, not a habit! I promise!” He’d protested.
Still, an eye was kept on him all the same.
Quite out of nowhere the thought occurred to Starlight that, as friends, Andy was just as much on the hook for coming and seeing and talking to her as she was on the hook to do the same for him. And they were friends, were they not? Had that not been the whole point? And yet whole days passed - at least two whole days! A whole two! - with neither hide nor hair of him.
Did he not care? How dare he! After all she’d done for him! She’d made him shower!
Etcetera.
And once that idea was in her head it was impossible to dislodge. It actually made her rather cross, which she knew was irrational. And knowing that it was irrational just made her more cross.
Try as she might she could not ignore it so, when it became too much to bear, she bit the bullet and stormed off to innocently check in on him at work, as a friend you understand, and then perhaps give him a piece of her mind vis his utter failure to communicate with her for two - now three - whole days.
This made perfect sense to her.
However, the plan fell at almost the first hurdle when, on going to Mortis’s shop, she learnt that this particular day was, in fact, one of Andy’s days off. Sheepishly thanking Mortis for this information Starlight did an abrupt about-face and headed to his house instead, making only the briefest of brief detours along the way.
Andy, sitting comfortably, found his day off being interrupted by a knock at the door. Whatever irritation he might have felt at this evaporated the instant he opened it up and found Starlight standing there. Most of the rest of his thoughts evaporated, too.
“Oh,” he said, and then his brain clicked back into gear. “Hello you!”
“Long time no speak, stranger,” she said with abundant friendliness. Andy just blinked at her, immediately confused.
“It’s been two days. Hasn’t it?” He asked.
He still wasn’t the best on the passage of time.
“Closer to three.”
Andy felt relief. For a moment he had the horrible, freezing terror of wondering if whole weeks or months had passed without him properly noticing. It wouldn’t have been the first time.
“Ah, that’s not so bad. Sorry I haven’t been around, just been busy you know? Settling in. Hacking at wood,” he said, miming hacking at wood for a moment before realising this made him look like a tit, at which point he stopped miming hacking at wood.
Starlight gave him a second or two of silence to properly stew in that.
“How is that going?” She asked, once he’d stewed. Andy, leaning on his doorframe, nodded nonchalantly.
“Good, good. It’s all good.”
The conversation faltered.
“Um. Want to come in?” He asked, gesturing inside.
“I didn’t know you accepted guests.”
“You’re a special case,” he said, standing aside. Starlight entered, bring a hovering box with her which she set down on the dining table he had over to the side of his stylishly compact lounge-diner setup.
The place was, as mentioned, modestly sized.
“Nice place you got here,” Starlight said.
“You’ve seen it before.”
“Still nice.”
“Thanks. What’s in the box, if you don’t mind me asking?” Andy asked, eyeing the box. Starlight - who had just put the thing down - magically picked it up again and floated it over, holding it just in front of her and flipping the lid open.
Inside the box was cake.
“I brought cake,” Starlight said, in case Andy had missed that somehow. “Now, I know that you’re going to say that you haven’t paid me back yet or whatever and so it isn’t time to sit down and eat cake. But I want to. So I brought some. Okay?”
“I’m not going to object to cake showing up on my doorstep. Especially not if you’re the one who brought it,” Andy said.
“Does me bringing it add something?” Starlight asked, giving the same exaggerated flutter of the eyelashes that she’d seen being tossed around at Andy every so often, much to her chagrin. He stonewalled it like he always did, though he did crack into a grin after a few seconds though, and had to look away.
“Oh, definitely, Pizzazz. A certain je ne sais quoi. And I suppose having you here is also alright. I guess,” he said.
“You can tolerate it.”
“Exactly. And I kind of thought this might happen, you jumping the cake gun. That’s why I invested in the other chair, see?”
For the first time Starlight noticed that, yes, he did have two chairs in his little lounge seating area, both sat facing the fireplace. That was new. When he’d moved in he’d had just the one, picked specifically to accommodate his size. The new one was pony-sized by contrast, clearly picked specially.
“That’s your chair,” Andy said, pointing.
“The big one?”
“Good eye on you, Starlight, very good eye indeed. I’ll go cut this thing up if you feel like giving me the box - you go sit down.”
She passed the box to him and he moved off to the kitchen, where the knives lived. Starlight went for the chairs. Briefly she considered sitting in the big one but decided against it - kind of a one-note joke, and hardly worth the effort of having to move again once Andy returned. Instead she sat in the chair that he’d got specially for her.
It was comfy. Comfirer still, somehow, knowing that it had been bought with her in mind. Funny, that.
Starlight was snugly settled in by the time Andy returned bearing plates and slices, handing one to her and then sitting down heavily with his own. Forks were deployed and cake enjoyed in companionable silence for a minute or two.
“Good cake,” he said. Starlight made a general noise of agreement.
There followed more cake enjoyment in companionable silence.
“I really am grateful, you know,” Andy said, his tone having lost all of the jocularity it normally had. Kind of a serious sign, Starlight knew, even from her limited time knowing him. Meant he was being sincere. Which was agony to him.
“You don’t have to be,” she said.
“I know. Don’t have to be anything, really. But I am grateful. Everyone really pulled out the stops to set me up good and I’m going to make the best of it. But it started with you. By accident! But you stuck with it. Little thing, really. But it knocked me back on track. What was it I said the other day?”
“You called me a living jolt,” Starlight said. She’d remembered this. Because it was weird. But also kind of touching, in a weird way. She’d got what he’d meant. Andy snapped his fingers as the memory slotted into place.
“Yes that was it. Still true. That’s you, that is. Living jolt. Gave me just the volts up my arse I needed. Don’t know if anyone else could have managed it so I’m grateful it was you that found me.”
“Found you climbing into the trash,” Starlight reminded him. Andy’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes, thank you. I’d like to put that behind me. Won’t be doing that again,” he said, polishing off his slice. He’d been peckish and the cake had been very good indeed.
“You better not. I’ll smell it on you if you do.”
“Got my best interests at heart, eh?” Andy asked, rising to his feet, stretching.
“Always.”
Andy paused mid-stretch, plate in hand, and looked down at her.
“You really mean that, don’t you?” He asked.
“Of course I do,” she said.
“Because we’re friends?”
“Because we’re friends.”
He really couldn’t help but smile at that. The cast-iron seriousness with which it had been delivered! The core-deep strength of belief involved! Ponies. He still couldn’t fully believe that they were real.
Reaching out he gave Starlight’s mane a ruffle, specifically designed to mess her hair up. She did not appreciate this overmuch, and ended up glaring at him from beneath a flopped fringe.
“Ah, you guys. You guys are worlds apart from me. But I must admit to a certain fondness. Especially for some of you. Naming no names.”
His hand withdrew and Starlight was perfectly still for a moment and for that moment Andy worried that maybe he’d stepped over some line he hadn’t been aware of. But then:
“Can I have some more of the cake that I bought, please?” She asked, thrusting her own empty plate towards him. He took it and gave a bow, complete with crossing one leg over the other.
“Anything for a friend.”
And off he went back to the kitchen.
Starlight, for her part, was actually rather glad that most of her face was hidden behind the mane he’d messed up, because it did a good job of hiding how much she was grinning like an idiot.
Worse ways to spend an afternoon than with a friend, she supposed.
