I wasn’t ready to be able to face what came next. Or rather, “face myself,” would be more accurate in this context, I suppose. In the moments leading up to her striking up that horrid conversation, I seriously considered becoming an enemy of the state. I eventually dropped that option, of course, but the thought did cross my mind. Admittedly more than once.

“Well, that went quite well, all things considered.” Celestia’s words cut through the deafening quiet

“All I have taken from this endeavor is an understanding of why this position remains yet unfilled.”

She chuckled at that. “If it’s any consolation, that’s the best first session I’ve seen out of a Hearing Analyst in at least a century or two. The council members get very… self-assured when there is no Hearing Analyst keeping them on their hooves.”

I raised my eyebrow at her. “Clearly.”

“...I must ask.” Her pause was brief, but every moment of silence is not a welcome one. “Regarding Miss Autumn Breeze, you knew the other possible option implied from the letter she sent, yes?”

“...Gonna need to be a bit more specific.” This was, of course, a lie. I knew exactly what she was asking about. I simply wanted to hear her say it.

I saw her give an intense frown. “You requested she ask something specific to her parents. You would not have suggested such a thing during the hearing if you did not know what I speak of. It is possible her parents are having an affair, yet you advocated for her finding out anyway. Why?”

“Strange question.” I remarked. “You make it sound as though she has no right to know.”

“That is not what I said.” I didn’t need to see the continued frown to feel it piercing down on me.

“But it is what you’re implying. Let’s assume for a moment we went with your suggestion. She asks an indistinct question to her parents, gets a vapid answer in response, and I would hope I don’t need to explain why absolutely nothing is resolved in her household as an end result?”

She sighed. “No, I am well aware. If the problem is as dire as that, her parents' arguments would simply grow in size and frequency. Make no mistake, I am not doubting the efficiency of such a solution. I am doubting its need.”

Ah, I know where she’s going.

“Assuming the worst case scenario here,” she continued. “Is it truly necessary for her to find out such unsavory details about her parents? Would it not be better for her to not unearth that knowledge?”

“No.”

“‘No’?” she echoed. “For what reason?”

“You said it yourself. Her parents’ arguments will grow in size and frequency if left unchecked.”

“...I fail to see how the two are related.” A confused look showed upon her face. Probably the only tell that I’ve ever been 100% confident in identifying correctly.

“Assume for a moment that you’ve just found out your partner has been cheating on you. What’s the first thing you doubt about your partner after the marriage itself?”

“Hmm.” She placed her hoof under her chin. “I suppose it would be the legitimacy of- Ah.”

“That’s why. Even if one side or both are objectively wrong, they will inevitably use her as a weapon against each other should these arguments of theirs escalate. Your suggestion would have Autumn Breeze walk into such a thing completely blind, and arguably more hurt by it by consequence. If that is the outcome, it would be far better if she knows.”

Celestia sat silently, her hoof still raised near her mouth.

“Of course, even with my suggestion, there’s still a very likely possibility that she still won’t find out, assuming such a thing is even occurring in the first place. We are building this scenario on a massive hypothetical, after all.”

“True enough on both points,” she nodded. “There is no guarantee that she would be inquisitive enough to chase after such answers, let alone whether something of the sort is even happening behind closed doors.”

I am not entirely sure why this needed to be explained to her. Seemed obvious to me, as it should have to her as well. Perhaps she simply wanted to hear my reasoning? I do not understand her angle.

Finally, she smiled. “I am surprised to hear you gave that letter so much thought. And to be so verbose with your explanation of it is a welcome change. I was beginning to think that cold case I had you work on was a fluke.”

I am certain the look I gave her was that of utter annoyance. “My work back home required far more attention than this. What I gave that letter was nothing more than a cursory glance.”

She chuckled. “If that was nothing more than a cursory glance, then I daresay you’re likely overqualified for your job back home, as well.“

“...Not really? There are a few people way better than me at what I do. They are overqualified. I still have a long way to go before reaching their level.”

“Hm.” I had only been periodically looking at her to read some of her facial expressions, but for a brief moment, I thought I saw a glimpse of fear, maybe? Shock? She’s already hard to read, so I’m probably wrong about the whole thing, but it was the first time I thought I saw it. “A goal to work towards?”

“No,” I shook my head. “Nothing more than a byproduct.”

“Oh? So what was the goal?”

“Ridding my city of crime.” These words came before I could even stop myself. I had not intended on divulging such personal information during my time here, and yet such an old sentiment still managed to rear its ugly head.

She stared at me for a minute. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to figure out how to steer the conversation next or what, but it took her a bit before she responded back. “...I didn’t think you’d have a goal like that.”

“I did.”

“‘Did?’ You gave up on it?”

I gave her a questioning stare. “Obviously? For the foreseeable future, there’s no way to go back home, which means I couldn’t pursue it even if I tried.” Who am I kidding? I gave up on that dream long before I came here. It was a stupid, naive one that served no other purpose than a vain attempt to make me better at my job.

“Ah. Of course. If it is any consolation, I do have a few ponies researching what brought you here in the first place. It would take time, but eventually we could possibly find a way to send you back home in the future.”

“Ha,” I scoffed. “I’ve heard things like that before. Meaning it’s not going to happen in my lifetime. They’re better off not bothering.”

She frowned. I could tell it wasn’t out of anger this time, but honestly I would have preferred it in this context. No, I knew what that look was all too well. Pity. I hate it.

“Is this why you’ve been so abrasive? You’re angry that you’ve been forced to give up your dream?”

Under normal circumstances that would have been a good guess. “...You want me to be honest with you?” She didn’t speak, nor did I bother to look over at her for visual confirmation to continue. I think we both knew it was rhetorical. “It’s nothing more than icing on the proverbial cake.”

“Oh?” She fully shifted over to her right so that she was now facing me from her seat. “If it isn’t that, then it must be that war your country participated in, no?”

I didn’t look at her. I didn’t even say anything. And she didn’t have to even ask that question. That, too, was rhetorical. She clearly knew the answer long before this conversation started.

“I see…” Celestia sat in thought for a moment before she continued. “Tell me about it.”

“...I’d rather not.”

She frowned. “You won’t be able to overcome this if you aren’t at least willing to speak of it. Could you at least try?”

“No.” She’s practically asking for a miracle here. “The last time I tried…” I had briefly recalled a time not long after I got discharged when my former superior officers tried to send me over to the military shrink. To say that it went so poorly that a few people nearly died still wouldn’t do it justice. “...Did not end well.”

“Hm.” I could see the same frown visible on her face. “Very well, perhaps we’ll try a different approach, then. I’d like to confirm some suspicions I had regarding your condition, if you’ll indulge me?”

…What kind of game is she trying to play? She forces me to talk about this stuff, and now she wants to ask for permission? Why does every conversation I have with her end up this way?

“...I suppose.” Not like you left me any choice.

“Very good,” she gave a smile at me, one that I found to be extremely disingenuous. Almost as soon as she gave it, however, it immediately faded to a more serious expression. “You suffer from PTSD, do you not?”

…I suppose it wasn’t really that hard to figure out, all things considered, but she really went straight to the point immediately? All this subterfuge and only now does she want to be direct?

I curtly nodded in place of a verbal answer.

“I see,” she nodded her head in understanding. “And I assume this stems from something related to all those scars on your body, yes?”

…Of course she’d have access to my medical record, why wouldn’t she? It was naive to think that they’d keep it private from someone like her. I should have expected this.

I stayed silent, an action she would have no problem extrapolating the answer from.

“I should have expected as much.”

“...?!” I whirled my head to give a confused stare at her. Suddenly saying what I was thinking was quite the scare for me since I still wasn’t convinced that mind reading wasn’t possible yet at this point.

“I am truly sorry that you had to experience such a thing, Franco. I am only one of two ponies that even remember what war was like here in Equestria, and I remember all too well what it did to the brave soldiers who came back after fighting for me.” As she spoke, I could see her neutral face become more and more crestfallen as she reminisced about her past. “It was most certainly not pleasant for anypony involved once the last war ended. We all needed to scramble to get systems in place to get all our soldiers mental help regardless of their income. It was difficult. Stressful. What was even worse was seeing the kind of trauma they experienced after fighting on my behalf. I tried to help them. I was no psychologist or anything of the like, but I tried to do what I could, when I could. Do you know what I saw? Constant sleepless nights, going into random panic attacks at a moment’s notice, exhibiting extremely asocial behavior, to the point that some of the worst cases would get violent even being around others. They are some of the same symptoms I see from you.”

She had turned to face me before continuing. “Clearly your country has done you a great disservice by giving up and allowing you to live in such a self-destructive manner for this long. I would certainly hope you are an exception and not the norm for how they treat your fellow brothers-and-sisters-in-arms. And while your leaders might have allowed this to happen to you, Franco, I will not. As far as I am concerned, your defense of Ponyville is the equivalent of fighting for our country, and I will not sit idly by and watch yet another soldier suffer the horrors of war for any longer than is absolutely necessary.”

Hearing her speak about this with me was somewhat… bizarre, I guess? Certainly unexpected, as at the time I still seriously doubted the authenticity of the claim that both Celestia and her sister were over 1,000 years old. This conversation, however, at least gave some credence to the claim. No one else here could possibly even comprehend what I went through during that war, except, I suppose, for these two sisters. Her speech almost made me forget about that threat she issued to me prior to starting the Hearing. Almost.

“...I don’t get you at all.” These words, too, practically flew out of my mouth, but I had no interest in controlling them. I needed answers.

“Hm?” Celestia tilted her head at me.

“First you’re threatening to kill me in the hallway, and now you’re basically offering me free therapy? What are you trying to pull?”

“Ah,” she gave a strange smile. “I presume you won’t accept the answer of me genuinely caring about you, yes?”

Of all the stupid excuses…! As if anyone would believe you after pulling a stunt like that! “Obviously not. Why would I assume that when barely a couple hours ago you threatened my life?”

“You misunderstand, Franco. In the Hearing Chamber I spoke to you as a ruler. Here, I speak to you freely.”

So… She does apparently care about me but her duties as ruler get in the way? If that’s what she’s saying, I’m not buying it. She’s been running me ragged the last two days, giving me the constant mental run-around to presumably get information out of me, digs into my medical record, and then proceeds to threaten me should I step out of line. Twice, no less. I would have to be some kind of moron to believe that her motives are as altruistic as Twilight’s at this point.

“If we are speaking freely, then I don’t believe that for a second.”

That smile she had on her face faded. “You may believe whatever you wish, Franco. It does not change the reality of the situation. Do you really think that I would offer this service to a non-citizen of Equestria if I didn’t care?”

There’s no way that’s the only reason she would do this. She could have an ulterior motive. …No, she must. It’s practically impossible to believe she’d be doing this otherwise. “...It’s certainly possible.”

“Really.” If she wasn’t annoyed before she absolutely was now. She didn’t even bother trying to hide that reaction. “Well, I’m curious to hear how you think I’m apparently trying to- what, exactly? Deceive you?”

Truthfully, I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. This conversation was unavoidable, and unfortunately, I came woefully underprepared.

“I’m listening,” she said, clearly impatient at my hesitation. “What do I possibly have to gain by deceiving you in such a manner? I’m certainly not concerned about your loyalty, considering your willingness to defend my citizens with your life on the line and zero prospects of a reward being granted to you. So why else would I offer you help other than the one reason you aren’t willing to accept?”

Again, I said nothing. At the time, this was something I hadn’t even come to terms with myself, so how would I ever be able to express my thoughts? I simply couldn’t believe that anyone would help me in such a manner. Not without there being strings attached. Be it loyalty, future “favors,” or something akin to the sort, there was usually always baggage that came with such kindness.

She was silent for a bit before she continued. “...Unless there is no problem with my giving you something, but rather what you are receiving?”

I’m sure my face showed my confusion. I didn’t know where she was going at the time. Looking back, with the skills I used to have, I definitely should have seen, though. Yet another aspect of my acquired skills that I have let rot and decay.

“How do you feel about therapy, Franco? Is it something you have received before?”

I shouldn’t tell her. There’s no telling what she’ll do with this information if I let it leak. There’s no way telling her will lead to any good… And yet… “...I have,” I reluctantly let out.

Despite every fiber of my being screaming at me to not tell her, I found myself unable to filter my response. I don’t know if this was due to Twilight’s repeated, unwanted insistence into prying into my personal life at every chance she got finally wearing me down, or whether somewhere deep down, I believed that Celestia truly understood what I had been through and was actually willing to help. Either way, I let the careful guard I always have up slip, if only for a brief moment. It would prove to be my undoing, as it always does.

“Oh?” she questioned. “I am surprised to hear that. Your therapist has done you a great disservice to leave you in such a state after finishing your sessions with them.”

“...I didn’t. First couple sessions weren’t going anywhere. Refused the rest.”

“Ah,” she nodded. “So, do you have reservations about therapy? I understand there are certain cultures here in our world that view getting help in such a way as weakness. Is that what you see it as?”

“...No. Not necessarily.”

“Then why? Why forsake the help you need?”

“I will not drag others down with problems I should be able to deal with on my own.” I was starting to get frustrated. My mind was racing, I was trying to finish sentences as fast as I could. It was a miracle I didn’t start slurring some of my speech. This was the longest I’d talked about topics like these, and the self-defense mechanisms I put in place to protect myself were all starting to kick in. I knew that if she started probing any deeper, things were going to get ugly real fast.

“You are not dragging them down by allowing therapists to do their work, Franco.”

“...” And yet I have already dragged down someone with my problems. Straight to the grave.

“Would you accept therapy from a therapist here, if given the opportunity? Perhaps even from Twilight, if she were willing?”

“...No.” What right have I to get therapy after the mistakes I’ve made?

I didn’t look at her, but I could tell from the tone of her voice she was probably frowning. “Why not? You are not burdening others with your problems if it is their job to do so. If you refuse therapy so vehemently, there must be another reason why. Tell me, please.”

“...” No more. I cannot bear it any more.

“If you do not speak of your problems, you will never be able to be rid of them. Communication is always the first step. Won’t you at least try?”

“...” My patience was entirely spent. I knew if she continued to probe, I’d finally crack under the pressure. And, just my luck…

“Franco, please. If you truly refuse to get better, I may really have no other choice but my threat from earlier that I would rather not repeat. I do not wish that upon you. I do not wish that upon anyone, but if you continue down this road, then I cannot help you. Why do you insist upon clinging to these problems?”

“Because I deserve them!” I feel like the words came out before I had time to even think about them. I remember hammering one of my hands down at the desk I was sitting at. I remember being short of breath, and not being able to stop my hands from shaking. This is what happens when I talk about these things. This always happens.

“Franco…”

“Because I fucked up! And if I hadn’t, then maybe-!” I had to stop myself short. If I didn’t, there would have been no way to come back from falling apart again. I think I remember putting my face in my hands, but I’m not quite certain. My memory after this point gets clouded. I think my brain instinctively blocks out certain memories so that I can function, but I never know which ones, and I’m fairly certain it goes overboard and ends up blocking too much. Whether that’s for the best or not, I wouldn’t know. I can’t remember what it blocks out.

Out of the few pieces of my memory that remained intact, I remember Celestia attempting to approach me. I remember her suddenly backing off for some reason. I remember being escorted back to the room she’s allowing me to stay in. After that, nothing. No details of how our conversation ended, or what resolution came from it. No details of the trip back to my room and how awkward it must have been. Not even whether I actually explicitly told Celestia why I turned out the way I did. It is exactly because of situations like these that I do not speak of this event. I cannot, lest one day I actually do end up truly falling apart. If I do, I’ll never be able to put myself back together. Never.

Author's Note

My apologies for such a long wait for this set. Between irl stuff getting in the way and this set going through heavy revisions on at least 2 separate occasions, it took way longer than I thought to get this at a spot I was comfortable posting. Honestly, even then, I'm still not 100% happy with the way these turned out, but I can't just dawdle around not posting anything. Either way, hope you all enjoy, feedback is most certainly appreciated, and the next entry will most definitely not take this long to post.