What A Tale My Thoughts Could Tell
I look at my schedule for the day. My first appointment is David Hall* at 9:30. I’d slept in a little later than expected, but I still have a few minutes to get ready. There’s something to be said about a commute that’s a simple matter of descending a staircase, but that’s one of the perks of working from home. Office on the first floor, residence on the second – it saves a fortune on rent. The other thing that helps me save money is that my home/office isn’t exactly in the best part of Chicago. I would’ve made myself a cloudhouse, if not for the fact that my clients are exclusively humans, and therefore I need an office on the ground. Besides, unlike Equestria, there are drones and helicopters to worry about in the city. It just isn’t prudent to have a home in the sky on Earth. It’s all fun and games until a jet crashes through your living room and ingests a piano.
I unlock the front door and David trudges in. He’s a thirty-two-year-old architect who’s never had a girlfriend. A long time ago I would’ve called him a whiny loser, but I’m not the same pony I used to be. I was a horrible little filly, and I wish I could take back a lot of things I said and did back then.
David says nothing. He doesn’t need to. We’d long since moved past verbal communications. If he wants to give me updates on his life, he will. If he doesn’t, I won’t pry. There’s a time for talking about feelings. And then there’s a time to be held in the arms of a lonely person as he cries himself out on my shoulders.
There are perks and drawbacks to having completely bypassed puberty. One of those perks is my size. I’m petite, I mean really petite. I’m still the same size I was when I was a filly. Add to that my hollow pegasus bones, and I may as well weigh as much as a feather. David scoops me up in his arms and lays down on the couch. It’s the typical couch you’d expect to find in a therapist’s office, but it’s covered with pillows, a blanket, and plush ponies. He snuggles me close, but there are no tears this time. I think he’s feeling better about himself than he used to. I like to think that I had something to do with that. Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t. David’s rarely talkative so I may never know. If nothing else, he keeps coming back, so at least I know I’m not hurting him. That’s important. That’s progress… for me.
David’s biggest issue is he’s never learned to interact with other people. He sees things in black and white, and he’s matter-of-fact and aloof, combined qualities that others mistake for arrogance. He’s really anything but.
An hour later, I’m $85 richer and David feels a bit better. I feel guilty about taking his money, but I remind myself that I’ve got bills to pay: the rent on the office, the utilities, and I need to put food in my belly. I lead a frugal existence outside of that – I don’t even have a cell phone. I had one for a little while, but then I realized my clients don’t call me when they have problems. It’s not like I have friends, so why pay for something I’m not using? Emergencies? Ha! If something happened to me, it would be doing the world a favor.
My next appointment isn’t until 11, so I fix myself a quick brunch since I skipped breakfast. Nothing fancy: just a toasted English muffin smothered in butter and a glass of Sweet Apple Acres cider. It’s expensive to import all the way from Equestria, but it’s worth it. It’s the only luxury I allow myself, and that’s mostly because I know who it supports. A long time ago I knew the Apple family, but I was a different pony then. Saying ‘I’m sorry’ to them wouldn’t accomplish anything. But dropping a few hundred bits a year on their finest cider? I impact their bottom line positively, and they’ll never even be the wiser. And that’s the way I like it. It would be…awkward…if they knew.
It’s time for my 11 o’clock, and my heart breaks. It’s Valerie Power* and her dad, Maximillian*. Valerie’s mother was killed in a car accident a few years ago. A 19-year-old in a lifted pickup ran a stop sign and t-boned her right in the driver door. She never saw what hit her. Adding insult to injury, she lingered in a coma for months. Valerie suffered that whole time, never knowing if her mom was going to wake up or not.
She didn’t.
Eventually she was declared brain dead and Maximillian gave his permission for them to pull the plug. Despite it being the right thing to do, I don’t think he’s ever really forgiven himself for that.
Valerie’s a shy girl, seven years of age if my memory serves me. I don’t have Pinkie Pie’s amazing memory for remembering ages, birthdays, and anniversaries. I won’t lie, I was extremely jealous of that talent in my younger days. It would’ve been so convenient to have that ability back then. I suppose I could look it up in her file if I need to. She was only five when the accident happened. She was in a car seat on the passenger side backseat. Her physical injuries were minor, but the mental ones will probably never fully heal. She still remembers the accident in vivid detail, still remembers the agonizing silence that answered her wails for mommy. She still remembers seeing the pickup back up and drive away as if nothing had happened. They caught him a few hours later, not that it made any difference. The damage was already done, and that’s something I know all too well from experience.
Part of me feels sorry for the guy. I was given a second chance, albeit after I’d served my time. And even with all the things I did, I never killed anypony. Things work differently on Earth, and I’m not sure what’s going to happen to him after he finishes his sentence. Maybe they’ll send him to Equestria like they sent me to Earth.
That’s the rational side of my mind. But I’ve always had a short temper, which is admittedly my biggest flaw. The perpetually angry side of me wants to string him up from the nearest tree for what he did to an innocent family. It would be faster and more humane than petrification; the mind is fragile, and isn’t meant to be in perpetual torment for decades. But he’s not my problem, and not my patient. Valerie is, and after months of coaxing, Maximillian is too. I could charge them double. And I’m tempted to, every month when I sit down to pay the bills, but it just doesn’t sit right with me. Max has to be there for his daughter anyway. Sometimes he holds me and I hold her. Other times he holds her and she holds me. Today was one of the former days, and I stroked her hair and nuzzled her face as we lay there. Sometimes she talks a mile-a-minute and sometimes she just cries for an hour. She’s crying less these days. Time ~~heals~~ puts a Band-Aid on ~~all~~ most wounds. Eventually people and ponies realize there’s no point in shedding tears over events out of their control. Maybe someday I’ll realize that too. Won’t be today though. It’s never today.
In theory, our session was supposed to end at noon. In practice, I didn’t have another client until 1 o’clock, and we stayed there cuddling until almost 12:45. Out of all my patients, they’re the ones my heart aches the most for. So many of the others could solve their own problems with a little effort on their part, Valerie and Maximillian can’t. I don’t take on any clients with real mental issues, though legally I can if I wanted to. I’ve got a degree; I just don’t trust myself enough to do it. Instead, my patients are the lonely, the insecure, the indecisive, and the grieving. People with the ability to pick up the pieces of their lives and move on, with just a little encouragement.
I should really introduce them to my 1 o’clock, but that would probably violate patient privacy laws. I could look it up, but that's a trigger for me. There was a time I enjoyed reading books of law, mostly looking for loopholes, but those days have long since passed and I want to keep it that way. I would’ve made a great lawyer back then, but I’ve done enough bad things for one lifetime.
I don’t have time for lunch, but that’s okay. I don’t eat all that much. Years ago when I really was a filly, I could burn off the excess calories easily. Nowadays, I’m still filly-sized but my metabolism isn’t nearly what it used to be. It’s far more important to take my pills – I really should’ve taken them promptly at noon. And I need the rest of those fifteen precious minutes to prepare myself for Danielle*. I have tears to get out of my system before I can face my happiest patient. And then I’ll have to clean up the mess it leaves on my face. She doesn’t need to see me sad, or else she’ll try to be my therapist. As if she could help a mare as messed up as me? But that’s why I practice ‘cuddle therapy’ and never claim my practice offers real psychological help.
Danielle is early as usual, and I let her into the room and she hops onto the couch with her usual enthusiasm. Danielle doesn’t have any problems. Well, I’m sure she has problems, because everyone has issues, but that’s not why she comes in. I’m an adorable pegasus and I’m available to cuddle for a nominal fee. I could probably charge her triple and she’d still come in every week. I’m not gonna lie, she probably does more good for me than I do for any of my other clients. One of my patients is a better therapist than I am. Add that to the heap of failures that is my life.
She runs her fingers through the curls of my hair. I can stop her. I probably should stop her, but I don’t. It feels good, and if I was a cat I’d purr in contentment. The only downside is Danielle is curious. She asks a lot of questions, mostly about Equestria, which is a topic I’m not overly comfortable talking about. There’s a reason I don’t live there anymore. Check that, there are lots of reasons I don’t live there anymore, and none of them are pleasant.
Danielle wraps her arms around me and we snuggle. It’s not long before the questions start. For once, I interrupt instead of regaling her with tales of Equestria, none of which involve me personally. “Why don’t you move there?”
“I’ve thought about it.”
“That’s not exactly an answer.” I’m treading dangerously close to actual therapy here. I remind myself I’m a licensed therapist, so technically I can do that. Reality hits, and I also remind myself that I don’t trust myself enough to. In all honesty, I’d only gotten into psychology to learn how to better manipulate others. It was only after I started classes that I realized I have more issues than a Publisher’s Clearinghouse warehouse. So I moved across country to Chicago, so I could get my degree in one of the few states that allows psychologists to prescribe medications.
I’ve only prescribed medication for one patient, and that’s me. I’m on a cocktail of meds that no sane doctor would ever prescribe. Finding the right dosages was a challenge considering I’m a pony instead of a human, and I have a permanently prepubescent body at that. Embarrassingly enough, that also involved consulting with some equine veterinarians for their opinions. The amazing thing about Earth is they have treatments for all kinds of conditions we don’t even know exist in Equestria. Not to mention things are convenient. All I need is an alias and a PO box and my pills get delivered. I could even have them delivered to my door if I put the prescription in my real name.
“I don’t want to leave my friends and family behind. Why did you leave?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.” Nor do I want to. “Privacy reasons, of course.”
“Can you at least tell me how you dealt with leaving family and friends behind?”
“I didn’t. Everypony I care about moved here.” I failed to mention the part about how I had no loved ones to leave behind. I'd thought of the consequences of my actions and the ramifications they’d have for those closest to me, so I never allowed myself to get close to anypony else and all my 'friends' were disposable. “So I’m not the right pony to ask. But what we’re doing right now? There’s absolutely as much demand for it in Equestria as there is here.” It’s one of the fundamentals of our two species’ alliance: humans enjoy hugging ponies as much as ponies enjoy being hugged.
Even ponies like me crave it. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve Danielle’s affection, and someday she’s going to find another pony to cuddle and she won’t come see me anymore. Or maybe she’ll take my advice and venture into Equestria and I’ll never see her again. I push away everyone who cares about me eventually.
We just lay there for the next half hour, my little spoon to her big spoon. I really don’t want Danielle to leave. She may be the best thing to ever happen to me. Her time’s up but I make no motion to end her session. And I know there’s no way she’s going to complain about a few extra minutes snuggling me.
“You enjoy this as much as I do.”
I nodded. “I told you how to get paid to do this. Move to Equestria and you can have a job you love instead of job that’s just a paycheck. And if you throw in free ear scritches with every session, you’ll have more business than you can imagine.”
“Oh? You mean like this?” She works her fingers around my ears and I paw at the bed, pounding my hooves as if I was galloping down the prairie.
I tilted my head back to give her better access. “Mm-hmn. Just like that.”
“I’ve been coming here for months, and you’re only now telling me this is something you like?”
“These are your sessions – it isn’t about what I like, it’s about what you like. There are very few boundaries not to cross, and only one person has ever tried to do that. It didn’t end well for him.” He spent days in the hospital. I have a lot of rage and no healthy outlets to release it. I don’t like to use the word ‘epic’ because I feel it’s overused, but his beatdown was as epic as it was therapeutic… for me. “In my defense I gave him a warning to stop and he blatantly ignored it. I don’t give second warnings.” It cheapens the value of a warning if people know they can get more than one of them without consequences.
I break our embrace and pull one of the stuffed animals closer to us. A Build-A-Bear Workshop pony, this one is designed to look like some mare named Minty. I’d seen her around Ponyville, and I think I talked to her once or twice, but I hadn’t really known her. I’d also purchased a plush of Twilight Sparkle at the same time, but that one had been subjected to one of my rage-venting sessions and is now little more than a pile of purple fluff in the landfill. I pointed to a few places on the Minty plush and then pointed to the corresponding places on her body for emphasis. “Don’t touch a pony here, here, or here. And never touch a cutie mark without asking permission first.”
“Pretty straightforward. Except for the cutie marks, humans have the same ‘no touch’ areas. Unless you really like someone, that is.”
“I don’t.”
“No special stallion or mare in your life?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Not now, not ever. I’m just not interested.” That’s a lie, but she doesn’t need to know that. It’s not that I don’t want to find a nice stallion to settle down with, it’s that that damned spell took my ability to have foals of my own. My body never developed, never aged. It’s been years, and I’ve never hit puberty. Maybe someday they’ll allow me to return to Equestria, and I’ll take it up with Twilight Sparkle herself to see if anything can be done to fix that. To fix me. I’m broken and I know it. I was born broken. I’m not a happy, good little pony and I never have been. And while there’s nothing that can be done about my mind, at least maybe they can fix my body.
The alarm blares, letting me know it’s quarter after two. “Okay, I really do have to cut this short. My next appointment will be here any minute.”
“There will be ear scritches next week,” Danielle promises, wiggling her fingers as she turns to leave.
I only had two appointments left for the day. Ralph* is a new client, and our first session is mere minutes away. I have no idea what to expect, but I certainly hadn’t expected him to be a middle-aged power broker. Forty-seven, balding, and thrice-divorced, he was looking for something more substantial than BMWs and Rolexes. I would’ve suggested he try a dating site instead, but apparently his assets are tied up in alimony suits, and he’s trying hard to not add another ex-wife to the list. Humans really struggle with the whole ‘til death do us part thing.
As he fills out the paperwork, I grab the Minty plush from the couch. “Since ponies have different biology than humans, I need to show you the parts of me not to touch inadvertently, otherwise we’ll both be uncomfortable. And never touch a pony’s cutie mark without asking and receiving permission first.”
“Is that what you call that tattoo?”
“It’s not actually a tattoo. A cutie mark appears on a pony’s flank when they discover their special talent. In my case, mine symbolizes the ability to move past obstacles to get to the core of a problem.” That was such a complete fabrication my snout should have grown three feet. But it’s how I had repurposed my mark. I’m stuck with it for life, I may as well own it the best I can.
“Whatever. And yeah, I’m not interested. You’re not my species, and you’re like, what, ten?”
“More than twice that, but stuck in the body of a young filly. It’s complicated.”
“And I thought I had issues. I’m already feeling better.”
Any forward progress I'd made earlier with Danielle toward my own self-esteem crumbles away. Ralph doesn’t stay for a full session. He walks out after fifteen minutes and I know I’ll never see him again. I doubt I’ll be getting paid for my time and effort. At least it gives me extra time to prepare for my last session of the day. It gives me an opportunity to squeeze in a real meal and a potty break. Please tell me I didn’t just think ‘potty’ instead of ‘bathroom’ or ‘toilet’… Curse this perpetual filly body!
Elizabeth Grant** is my last client for the day, and she’s another newbie. There’s a flash of light from my porch, and the unmistakable popping sound of a unicorn teleport follows it. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Sweet Celestia, I had two of Earth’s most powerful unicorns enchant this building. For what I paid, this building should be an impenetrable fortress. Nopony short of Twilight Sparkle or maybe Starlight Glimmer should be able to get through. And if it’s one of those two, or worse yet, Celestia or Luna… forget about not panicking, it’s time to panic! I don’t think I’ve done anything to warrant my parole being revoked, but I’m not taking chances.
My wings buzz and I’m halfway to the back door before a familiar voice calls out to me. I land on the floor because I know darned well there's no escape. My day of reckoning has come and I need to own up to what I've done. I open the front door and a very disappointed Flurry Heart greets me.
“Hi. This is kind of a bad time. See, I have a new client coming in at four.”
“I’m your 4 o’clock. You never write. You don’t return calls. I figured you wouldn’t turn down a client though.” She digs through her saddlebags and drops a wad of cash on my desk. “Will this buy me an hour of your time?”
I pointed to the therapy couch. “Make yourself comfortable.” I shouldn’t be so bratty. I wouldn’t be sitting here today if not for her. I owe her everything. Yet old habits die hard. “You paid, you get the treatment.”
She lays down on the couch behind me and wraps a foreleg and a wing around me, cuddling me tightly against her barrel. You’d never believe I’m a decade older than her. These days I could pass for her daughter. My stony timeout accounts for part of that gap: I was eleven when I was petrified, and I was released from the statue when Flurry was also eleven, so in theory we should be the same age. Instead, I'm still a filly and she's an adult mare and it isn't fair at all.
She fought for me. She'd only been a baby when the events unfolded, but she apparently made a case that a filly my age should at least be given a chance to reform.
It took three chances, and another two failed world domination schemes to finally see the light. I betrayed her trust twice, but she forgave me both times, and dealt with the consequences of my actions, cleaning up the messes I made. Out of all the ponies I’ve hurt over the years, it’s hurting her by proxy that I’ll always regret the most.
But we’re here now, and I can feel her tears dripping on my mane. “I miss you.” Her words are barely audible, but in the silence, they may as well have been shouted from the rooftop.
“I miss you too.” I do. That’s not a lie. It’s just for the best if I’m as far away as possible. “How are your parents?” Princess Cadence and Shining Armor had done a lot for me. They couldn't possibly have enjoyed having a nefarious criminal in their household, especially not after I captured and briefly held the Crystal Empire. That was what it took to finally break my megalomania. I had control, but I couldn't keep it. Equestria threatened war, and the Crystal Empire's military refused to recognize my legitimacy. I was trapped, so I let the royal family out of the dungeon and apologized, and I actually meant it for possibly the first time in my life. And what did Flurry do? She just hugged me with this dopey grin on her face. Like getting locked in a dungeon had been her plan all along. Maybe it was, and she's a better strategist than I am.
“They're good.”
“Probably happier now that they don't have Equestria's number one villain living under their roof.”
“You'd be surprised. I'm here to extend an offer to come home. Your exile is officially over.”
“I have obligations here.”
“Exploiting people by letting them give in to their natural urge to cuddle us.”
“It pays the bills. And I’m not exploiting them.” The accusation stings, and she’s the only one I’d let get away with saying something like that, because I know she isn’t serious. “Some of my clients really desperately need someone to care about, and to care about them.”
“Do you care?”
With my past, that’s a perfectly fair question. Again, not one I’d let just anypony get away with asking, but it’s fair nonetheless. “Surprisingly, yes. This has been good for me. I think I’m starting to understand empathy now.”
“So you’re doing better?”
“No. I’m not a good pony. I… I still get angry. I wander the streets at night and beat the living daylights out of drug dealers, pimps, and muggers. They don’t mess with me because I’m the most dangerous thing in this neighborhood.”
With her body pressed so tight against mine, there’s no disguising her involuntary shudder. Good. She needs to go before she gets hurt. I used to have anger management issues, but I never harbored truly violent thoughts until after I was sealed in stone for years. That only made my mind a worse mess than it was originally. Leaving somepony like me alone with my thoughts for years? Oh yeah, that was a great idea, Discord. Before my stony solitary confinement, I never fantasized about bashing Twilight Sparkle's brains in with a bowling ball. Now though, thoughts like that come unbidden and I can't stop them. And it scares me. I don't want to think such awful things. Taking over the world by outwitting everypony else? I’m cool with that. Being a violent sociopath? Not so much. And I am, and it scares me, and I’m trying to change it and the meds work sometimes and… I take a deep breath. My train of thought is derailing again. Focus, Cozy.
She can tell something is wrong. My body tensed up and I know she felt it because hers tensed up too. “You can see why I don’t write or call. You’re safer the further away from me you are. As hard as this is to believe, I care about you, and you’re the last pony I want to hurt.” She hugs me tighter.
“I care about you too.”
I roll over, facing the youngest princess, and wrap my forelegs and tiny wings around as much of her as I can. “You've done so much for me, and I owe you everything. I'd still be a statue if not for you. I'd probably never get released until the day the spell finally weakened. It took what, a thousand years for Discord to get out? I wouldn't have had any sanity left at all.”
“I didn't know you had any to begin with.”
She's teasing me and I know it, but I still have to fight back the snappy sarcastic comeback that wants to come out. “I've still got a little.”
“Besides, we both know Auntie Twilight doesn't have it in her to have left you a statue forever.”
She's sure of that, even if I'm not. She sees a different side of her 'Auntie Twilight' than the 'Princess Twilight' that the rest of Equestria sees. Celestia, Luna, and especially Discord all seemed content to let us rot in stone for eternity.
She rubs my belly and I don't know why, but it relaxes me. My heartbeat is finally slowing back down to where it was before she showed up. “From what my aunt’s told me, you always made things interesting, that's for sure.”
“What about the others?”
“Chrysalis was remanded to the custody of the changelings, who put her in a dungeon.”
“Beats being a statue.”
“She didn't stay in there long. Because instead of hating her, the changelings all banded together to show her how much they cared about her. They overwhelmed her with love, and she changed even though she resisted it the whole way, but in the end she had no choice. It's what her body wanted to do.”
“But did that reform her?”
Flurry laughed. “Yes and no. Now that she's no longer literally starved for affection, she's gotten involved in changeling politics, much to King Thorax's chagrin. Like it or not, she has centuries of experience to lean on and she reminds him of that constantly. Plus, she's also the mother of almost every single changeling, so she does the whole nagging him about giving her grandlings thing, too.”
“And Tirek?”
“Lord Tirek returned home.”
“Just like that?”
“A decade spent as a statue gave him plenty of time to think.”
“Yes. It tends to do that.” I coughed.
“Right. Uh, so he figured that after a few hundred years in Tartarus and two failed power plays that there was just no way he could win. Then he asked us for a little of Grogar's magic so he could return to a normal level of power.”
I laughed. “As if anypony would be stupid enough to give that to him!”
Flurry turned serious. “We did.”
“What? Why?”
“A quest for power has been what's driven him all his life. It's his strength, and leaving him as nothing but a withered husk wouldn't bode well for the future. Grogar's bell contains magic he could eat without it coming at the expense of anyone else. So we let him have some.”
“But then he would've been strong enough to just take power from everybody else!”
“Which is why we sent him home with an entire squadron of minotaur guards.”
“Minotaurs?”
“Unlike ponies and most other sapient species on Equus, they have no natural magic. Oh, and one of them was Iron Will, so I'm sure he just loved that. But he's back in his homeland and doing his best to fit in. The fact that he's royalty there hasn't hurt him.”
“Iron Will is in the military?”
“Forced conscription to escort Tirek. Something about my parents forgetting about how he ruined their vacation with Auntie Twilight if he cooperated.”
I nodded, but was lost in my own thoughts. Chrysalis has moved on? She was the one who was vowing revenge as Tirek and I were trying to disappear from the angry mob. The one who probably doomed all three of us with her words. Yet somehow she's the one who's adapted to society better than the rest of us? Even Tirek's doing better than me. Why am I the broken one?
Maybe Flurry’s right. Maybe it’s time to close my practice and move ‘home’ to the Crystal Empire. Maybe being around other ponies again would help me, that is if they're willing to accept me. They accepted Starlight Glimmer, Discord, and who knows how many others, so rationally they'd come to accept me too, right? I guess I’ll consider returning, not that I’ll admit it to her. She’d only take it as a ‘yes’. “You know I've never been one for letting ponies get close to me, but I love you.”
“I love you too.” She nuzzled me, and the touch felt weird. I'd been around humans for so long that it had been many years since I'd last been shown affection by another pony. I'd forgotten what it felt like because humans don't nuzzle.
At least somepony cares about me. With every session with every patient, I let them know they’re worthwhile, that they’re needed. Even that they’re loved. I do it for them, but I do it for myself too. With every person I help, it helps me too. There was a time of my life I’m not proud of. I’m a better pony now, but I’ll never be a good pony. I did awful things in Equestria, and the only reason I’m a free mare on Earth is because there’s no magic here. I’m End Game*, and I’ve come a long way. Just not far enough. Never far enough.
*Names changed to protect the privacy of my clients, just as I’ve changed my own name*** to protect myself.
**It’s already a fake name, so why bother changing this one?
***Most ponies know me as ‘Cozy Glow’, a name that exists only in Equestrian history books and on my PO box’s mailing address.
Author's Note
Story notes: https://www.fimfiction.net/blog/934696/story-notes-if-you-could-read-my-mind
