His last thought is not for her. The mare he'd loved... well, that hadn't turned out like he'd planned. She was beautiful. Hell, she was sexy. Every stallion thought so. At the stable's Hearth's Warming Eve party, every eye was on him when he'd finally gotten the courage (it had been starting to feel like too much of it had been the liquid kind) to ask her for a dance. It had worked. They had grooved like they were at a party, a real party. Not just some depressing yearly ritual the Overmare forced on everypony just so they all, “Never forgot where they came from.” It was real and it was fun. The whole time, every eye was on them.
Another night, after work and some more drinking (this time he knew he'd had too much) and talking, he began to realize how well they were getting along. She felt it, too. Suddenly, the time for drinking, talking, or just about anything else was gone. They barely made it to her room before all hope would have been lost, all eyes knowing what was really going on. Where had those prying eyes gotten off to, anyway?
She had been everything he thought she was, and more. And for some small space of time, he actually forgot he was locked below ground in a stable. He forgot that they were all buried under Celestia knows how many tons of dirt and rock and metal, in some technological sarcophagus meant to preserve life, when all it did was suck the soul right out of you. He did his best to help her forget, too. It sure seemed like she did.
Had he died then, he would have died happy, but missed out on some of the truly wonderful things in life. Would his life have an impact after he was gone? Did it have meaning now? Could anypony who was stuck in a stable, sealed from the fire and death that raged above? Surely it was gone now, or at least better. Besides, how would they ever know if they never tried?
He decided that a pony's impact was what was important. How those around you are affected, for good or ill, dictate what kind of legacy you leave. Will that legacy help or harm? At the end of the days of our lives, it can be some comfort to know that we have done the best we could to do good and change the lives of those we touch. Take those chances, for they may not come again. He had, and felt like a new pony. What happened next, however, was not so good.
A few nights later, Ratchet, some of the other stallions, and himself had gathered for some cards and ale.
“You won’t believe the night I had.”
“Uh-huh.” Ratchet wasn’t much for conversation, but something in his tone was off-putting.
“No really, it was amazing!”
“Uh huh.”
“What? I think we’ve really hit it off.” A few chuckles circled the table. “Hey, c’mon, haven’t any of you ever been in love before?” Quick glances followed the earlier chuckles.
Ratchet put down his cards, looking up at another pony at the table- Boiler. Boiler was magenta unicorn who worked in water supply. He rubbed his black mane nervously. “Nopony’s gonna say anything? Why me?” Ratchet simply raised an eyebrow. Boiler sighed “What Ratchet’s too polite to say is that you might not want to get too excited.”
“Why not? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Boiler gave the room another scan, his eyes pleading for help. The game continued around them. “Seriously?” All eyes, even his, put a terrible pressure on Boiler. “I’m just saying… uh… your feelings may not be unique.”
“You’re right,” he swelled up, a little proud, “I think she’s got them, too.” That drew laughs. Looking back now, he can see how painfully naive that was. But he felt it- he had. The two of them were the only two not laughing. He hadn’t got the joke- not then. Boiler looked like he was in pain.
“That’s enough guys, now come on. You don’t understand. You’re not… special,” he still didn’t get it, “you’re… not her first.”
That was when he’d started to get angry. “And why not? None of us is a saint, no one’s ‘pure’ or whatever the hell.” He had started to feel hot then, whether from anger or embarrassment, or perhaps both. “And I don’t think I like what you’re implying. Matter of fact, I know I don’t.” Somepony coughed.
“Cool it, buck!”
He got to his hooves, losing his composure. “What you’re saying about her-”
“What I’m saying is you don’t want to go watering crops that ain’t gonna grow!” Boiler bellowed. “I’m trying to help you out here!” Silence killed all other sound around the table. “Nopony? None of you are stallion enough to help set him straight?” All looked away except him. “I’m not talking about a normal pony here! I ain’t talking about a used farm, I’m talking used up! Exhausted, and it’s being sold as brand new. Shit, no it’s worse than that. You’re selling it that way to yourself! Don’t believe me? That’s on you!”
He’d almost started a fight then. It would’ve almost been as big a mistake as what he’d done next. Instead, he put down his cards. “Lost the taste for the game, boys. Especially when I hear talk like that behind a mare's back.” He slammed his winning hand down, "You oughta be ashamed." He stormed off.
“Gutless, all of you!” He heard Boiler scowl at the room.
Instead of a fight, he would put things right. He stormed straight up to her room. After giving himself a moment to breathe, to cool down, he pushed the call button. Maybe he should have brought flowers. The door opened after a minute.
It opened on a mare who looked disheveled. He didn’t care, matter of fact it made her look cute.
She also looked surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey, I,” why hadn’t he thought of what to say? The boys and I were talking about you, what a disaster! “Uh.. uh,” he smiled, “I was thinking about you. I… well it’s been a couple days since we last saw each other and I thought maybe you’d like to go for a trot!” Sweet Celestia, could anypony be so cheesy?
“Oh, that’s sweet,” she smiled a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Not that he’d seen that though.
What a foal I’ve been, he thinks.
“Now’s not really a good time.”
“Maybe later?” he smiled.
“Sure, uh maybe.” She started to close the door.
“Hey! I had a good time.”
She nodded dully. “That’s nice.” The door closed.
Not great, but not bad right? That was how complete his delusion had been.
He had returned a hooffull of times. Once was with newly pressed Stable uniform and flowers.
“I’m sorry, not now, the kids...”
“Shoot, bring them along! It’d be fun.” He’d even called ahead, planned it out this time.
She apologized again, but was in between work and needed to get some sleep.
Time can pass strangely locked inside a stable. Already two months were gone when he had heard some mares excitedly talking in the cafeteria. He had to see her again.
The mares had been talking excitedly about how her- how his love was pregnant.
Her face was slack when the door opened. If possible, it slackened more she saw him. “Waith, r-really?” her breath was soured with apple whiskey.
“Are- are you drinking?”
“Shure. Domn’t you?”
“You can’t do that!”
“Why th hell not? I’fve got… rashions!”
“I…” he was aghast, “You’re pregnant!” She started to laugh.
“You should try… it shometime.” She continued to giggle. “G-getting d-drinking, ya know, you can’t get pregnernt.” She chuckled at her joke.
“B-but our child, I came-”
“Oh shit!” her eyes became aware for a moment. “I rembember you. Oh shit,” she rubbed her temple with a hoof, “Look. You should shtop.”
“I… we have a child together.”
“No, you need sto shtop!” She swayed, “You’re embarrasing youshelf,” steadied, and looked sternly. “It’s not yours!”
“You don’t know that, they probably-”
“Oh I do! Trust trust me!”
“Look!”
“Nmo, you look! You stay the hell away from me and my child. Else Bravsh-” Brash was the security pony tasked with keeping the Stable's peace, “h-hell the Overmare’s getting involved.”
Yes, there it is, he thinks of the face he made. The understanding as it finally washed in.
And there it was, the pain, the shame. The fear that he would have to tell Boiler, face all the stallions knowing that they had been right. That was when he’d started drinking too much. Not often enough to get in trouble, but often enough to risk getting caught sleeping on the job.
He never said anything and the other bucks let it drop. Perhaps his newfound laziness had been apology enough. How do you talk about something like that? Had he died then, he would have done it in agony.
Later he’d tried- the stable had a designated counselor after all. She had been understanding enough, trying to get him to leave the past in the past and focus on the contribution to the Stable he could make today. A few more times he tried with other mares. He tried to put things behind him. In the end, though, none of it had amounted to much.
None of it, that is, until a tiny gray filly had showed up at his shop. She had just been assigned her role in the Stable and it was his department. While Boiler and some of the other stallions had more prestigious jobs (keeping a healthy water supply was a matter of life and death, after all), his had unlimited potential.
Pip-Bucks were hardly used in the Stable. They picked up the Stable’s radio station, sure, and, most Stable ponies used them for little else. The technology they each wielded on a foreleg, however, was truly awe inspiring. Precious few suspected that they wore a device that could track their whereabouts anywhere in the Stable at any time. The Overmare made it clear how important it was for him to keep this secret. It was rarely, thank Celestia, ever an issue. His shop: Pip-Buck maintenance, just keeping the things running, didn’t cover a fifth of what they could do.
Her tiny form was nervous, scared even. She kept looking away.
“And just who do we have here?” He did his best to ask gently and smile warmly.
While she looked up, her head stayed low. “I was told to come to Pip-Buck maintenance, sir. Is this the right place?”
He almost didn’t answer. Her brown mane was one thing, but her green eyes had confirmed what he already knew. He was no medical pony, but his talks with White Coat had allowed him to glean some things about genetics. Like how they could skip a generation or two, and how this little pony was the spitting image of his mother. “Why my little pony, you found me just fine. That’s quite a talent you have there. You might get your cutie mark in finding things!”
Her face lit up a little. “You think so?”
His smile felt more natural. “Could be, who knows? Come over here a second.” She trotted over, apprehensive at all the magical electronics surrounding them. He started rummaging through a box of cartridges. Pulling one out, he saw the fear on her face. “A little overwhelming, huh?” Her attention came back to him. She nodded sheepishly. “The world can be overwhelming, but if you have a little faith, you can learn all about it and grow as your world gets bigger. Besides, nopony has to do everything by herself.” She didn’t look convinced. “Here it is! Come on over here. Let’s see that Pip-Buck of yours.”
Carefully, she came and gingerly lifted a hoof. “Have you ever listened to the Stable’s radio?” She nodded. “That device on your leg can do so much more than anypony down here gives it credit for.” He opened her Pip-Buck and inserted the cartridge. Her tiny muzzle made an "ooh." This was probably the first time she'd ever seen it open and close again, let alone the sight of a cartridge being inserted. A song started to play. It started off small, simple, almost like a lullaby. After the first few bars, though it grew in melody and message. It was one song that had never been deemed fit for the Stable’s radio rotation. While it was a little short, it still talked about the magic of friendship and how everypony contributed something special and how they needed each other. He felt that was a message this little pony needed to hear. For the first time in a long time joy found its way to his eyes as he watched her world expand just a little.
She had so much to learn, so much to do, but most importantly, so much of herself to find. He did his best to teach her about Pip-Bucks, but that wasn’t his focus. Friendship, right and wrong, Celestia and Luna were the more important lessons. Those were the tools ponies needed to find out about the world beyond the Stable, about how to be happy and healthy and be part of the group. Really, those lessons were so important to help ponies learn about themselves.
Some days the little filly seemed to learn a lot. Some days she was bored. Other days she was scared and anxious. He’d tried to get her to talk a little about it, but that almost always wound up with her shrinking away. He set up some appointments with Catharsis (Cat was the counselor), but that didn’t seem to help her too much.
“How did it go?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“You didn’t like her.”
“I-I didn’t say that,” she blushed.
“It’s okay,” he smiled, “I didn’t like her that much either.” She looked up. “Cat seems a little too focused on helping the Stable and not the pony she’s supposed to be helping.” He held up a Pip-Buck that was undergoing some repair from the table. “You know why we fix these?”
“So they work again?” she trotted over, putting her forelegs on the table, and sat there, looking adorable.
“I’d never agree to fix these again if that’s all I was doing.” She looked curious, confused. “We’re helping ponies. I’m thinking about who I’m helping and how their life will be better. With this.”
“But all they’re gonna do is listen to the radio.”
“Maybe, but they have the chance to do so much more. Without this,” he put the Pip-Buck down, “they won’t even have that chance.” She looked up at him with innocent green eyes, disheveled brown mane framing her countenance. “I like Cat, I really do. She means well, but she doesn’t reach her potential if she treats ponies like Pip-Bucks- like machines to be fixed to keep the Stable running. Instead, she needs to help ponies get better with the problems on their inside so nothing is weighing them down, keeping them from reaching their full potential.”
The Pip-Buck rested on the table once more. The little filly’s muzzle was an “ooh” of surprise. He was trying to look away, having just realized how lonely he was. “Can you play for awhile?”
“Sure, where are you going?”
“I-um… I think I need a nap.”
“Oh.” She looked sad. The defeat on her face stabbed a lance of guilt and shame straight through him.
“Oh hay, how about we play together for the rest of today?” She brightened at that. Teaching schedules damned for the day, they played cards, board games (she would laugh when he called them “bored” games), and cowponies and buffalo.
As the years went by the little filly started making a little trouble. And after awhile, the little trouble maker had started getting caught. When had she started reading the magazines and books he’d once occupied himself with? He’d become content to leave them lying around, convinced that they served little purpose anymore since the Overmare herself had denied his repeated requests to form scouting parties. At least some other folks had agreed with him- at least in private.
“Um, can I look at these?” she had asked as if it was the hardest thing in the world for her. Not expecting her to come back after their lesson had been done for the day, he had almost spilled the whiskey on his desk in surprise. “I’m sorry!” Ashamed, he tried to hide the flush on his cheeks.
“Don’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong! Why of course! Knowledge is for everypony, don’t you know? And your curiosity is a gift that you should never give up. Hel… I mean heck, you may even get a cutie mark in curiosity!”
She giggled. “What the hell would that look like?”
He laughed. “Shit, don’t let the Overmare hear you talking like that!” She blushed, he laughed again. He relaxed a little. “Probably a question mark.”
“Two question marks!” They laughed. Maybe she was coming by when he was falling asleep. He needed to start drinking less.
The first couple of times “breaking and entering,” as Brash put it, only got a stern talking to. The few times she had almost opened his lockers he let slide. He didn’t write her up until she had managed to open the one that had held his stash of whiskey. Although trying to play it off as minor, the multiple instances were adding up to, “a pattern of disturbing, anti-social behavior and reprobate actions.” Her curious, adventurous spirit, even the tinge of deviancy, made him proud. It was all harmless and he knew she was a good little pony at heart.
He had to act stern though when Brash had shown up with the Overmare. Her reaction had gone from bad to worse when they revealed the report had come from him. Initially, he’d worried that he’d gone too far, but then risking one of the few relationships he had in this world was worth it if it helped her grow. She didn’t see it that way, and made it clear when the Overmare took her leave.
“I thought you were my friend. How could you... betray me like that?”
“Sweet molestia! What did you think was going to happen? You can’t just go around looking through ponies’ things like that without permission! Am I your mother? Do you want me to scold you? I was trying to treat you like an adult!”
“But I didn’t steal anything, I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Of course you did! You took information without asking, you looked into my personal information when I didn’t say you could, you stole my privacy!”
“You didn’t even talk to me!”
“Did you talk to me when before going through my personal things? That’s not the point, is it? You don’t ask when you do something you’re not supposed to. And if you don’t get caught, what does it matter?” She was stubborn, as if losing this fight would really mean losing one of the last bits of freedom she had left. He sighed. This was his fault, after all. He’d encouraged her curiosity without setting boundaries. Sure he’d tried to show her the difference between right and wrong, but hadn’t really shown how that applied to curiosity. And that didn’t even get into the areas as gray as her coat. “Listen to me, because this is really important. It’s my fault, really. I needed to teach you better.” She looked doubtful and angry, probably feeling patronized. “Doing good isn’t about getting caught or not, it’s about who you are on the inside, whether anypony’s looking or not. And, believe me, Celestia always knows what we’re up to anyway. Besides, the more bad stuff you do, the more it catches up to you, most importantly in who it makes you on the inside.”
“Whatever! You’re stupid!” She smiled a cruel smile. “Anypony that would want to stare at stupid mares in stupid outfits would be stupid anyway!” It took every ounce of what little self control he had left not to gallop away to his bedroom right then and there. Instead, he waited for her to storm off first.
“Ah shit!” He pulled open the hooflocker at the hoof of his bed… without his key. “Ah shit!” Things were disheveled, but an old pre-war copy of “Play Mare” lay on top. “Bugger me with a pool cue.” His habits, like his language, really needed to clean up.
The next day her mother had shown up when his lesson with her was supposed to start. “What the hell have you been telling my daughter?”
“Look,” he sighed, “she was doing some stuff she shouldn’t so I wrote her up. I thought it would do her some good.”
“That Celestia worshiping bullshit is one thing. But don’t you dare,” she hissed, “ever think, you have the right to punish my daughter!” Her voice got low, dripping with mocking sweetness, “Or should I talk to the Overmare?”
“Good, let’s bring her in here! Then we can talk- really talk! Then you can tell her how I wrote her up after letting four or five incidences slide. And then I can tell her how you’ve been neglecting your daughter. You think stallions don’t talk? You think your daughter doesn’t talk? How many nights this week have you been drunk or in some other stallion’s bed?”
“You piece of shit!” she yelled.
“You know what?” He smiled, “I think we finally found something that we have in common.” She showed him her backside, swiping him with her tail as she turned. That was why he hadn’t seen the buck coming. Her hoof connected hard and he felt something crack. She stormed off.
Whether to teach him a lesson, or for some other reason, the tiny filly’s mother kept her daughter out of school for the rest of the week.