A faint sob roused her from her slumber. The clock mounted on the wall opposite clearly showed she had only been asleep for two hours, but any tiredness she felt was overshadowed by concern for the young stallion next to her. Even though it was too dark to see any tears, she could almost feel them running down his face – and the pain...the terrible pain in his heart...whatever was going on in his mind, Hornette could tell it was hurting him dreadfully. That alone made her want to cry in her turn.
It had been well over a month since the disaster that nearly claimed her beloved Locomotion. They, along with the Bearers of Harmony and two other changelings, had ventured into her former homeland to confront their evil Queen Chrysalis, who had been Brainwashing nearly all her subjects for the last sixteen years. Using a spell that Hornette had accidentally cast on a platoon of spies sent out to assassinate her, they restored free will to her entire species; but in extracting revenge, Chrysalis managed to bring the whole hive crashing down on top of her, killing her instantly. Despite being caught in the collapse himself, Locomotion had mysteriously been brought back from the dead, and following emergency surgery, it seemed he was well on the road to recovery...but seeing him in such distress, Hornette had her doubts.
Rubbing her eyes with one hoof, she gave her beau a gentle nudge. “Loco?” she whispered anxiously. “Loco...are you okay?”
“Hornette...don't leave me, please...I...I never even got to...”
“Loco...it's alright,” said Hornette, raising her voice slightly as she nudged him a second time, “I'm right here.”
“Huh?” At last, Hornette's persistence was rewarded as Locomotion's eyelids flickered open. He looked to his left, his breathing shallow and ragged, his eyes bleary and full of fear and despair – and suddenly he shot her a startled double-take as if he had only just noticed her.
Almost at once, the young changeling gently took hold of his left hoof and began stroking it in a bid to calm him down. “It's alright, Loco,” she repeated softly. “You're okay, take it easy.”
Locomotion breathed a shaky sigh of relief. “Oh...it's you,” he stammered. “And there was I thinking I'd lost you.”
“Lost me? How...” Hornette broke off, her puzzlement turning to sudden realisation as she looked into Locomotion's eyes. “Oh my gosh...have you been having a bad dream?”
“Mm-hmm.” Locomotion looked down at his lap, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. “I'd just woken up from my coma, but you weren't with me, and when I asked the nurse what had happened to you, she...she told me you'd been killed – zapped to death by that monster Chrysalis! Then I found myself on the train for Ponyville, and when I got there...it was gone...like it had never existed in the first place.”
Hornette's heart skipped a beat. She didn't like where this was going.
“All my friends...my family...they were all gone too. All I could find was a tombstone in the middle of nowhere; and on it was this note that said...it said......”
“What did it say?”
Locomotion grimaced. “It was from Mum – said she was very sorry, but your death was just too much for anyone in Ponyville to bear, and...and so they'd all moved on, to try and forget about you...” He buried his face in his left arm, not even daring to risk soaking the cast around his right as he lost control of himself. “...but they forgot about me too!” he wailed. “They didn't even tell me where they'd gone! They just left me all alone and heartbroken, and even your ghost wouldn't stay behind when it saw me! It just said...'You couldn't save me, Loco,' and just drifted away!”
Fighting back her own tears, Hornette gingerly wrapped her arms around his barrel and hugged him as tightly as she dared. “Aww, Loco,” she whispered sombrely, her right hoof gently rubbing his back. “That must've been dreadful.”
“Not half,” sobbed Locomotion, returning the hug as best as he could. “And it was all so vivid too...what if it all comes true? What if I wake up one day and find you're...”
“Loco...” Hornette pulled back a little to gaze into his eyes again, placing a hoof over his lips as she spoke. “...you've no need to worry. There's only one creature who would've wanted to take me away from you, and she's dead...how did Twilight put it...'impaled on her own sword'?” Smiling softly and lowering her hoof again, she added, “I'm not going anywhere, Loco. I love you, and nothing's going to change that.”
“I know...and I love you too,” murmured Locomotion glumly. Even now, it still made his heart flutter just hearing himself say those three words, reminding him as they did of that first kiss they had shared shortly after waking up from his coma. All the same... “I just feel so...isolated,” he lamented. “Stuck in a hospital bed, miles away from my family and my friends...and not one of them come to visit...”
Hornette's smile faded. In truth, she knew that Locomotion's mother Fair Isle, along with his sisters Surfie and Firelli, had visited him a few days before he regained consciousness; but he was hardly likely to have any recollection of it. Beyond that, the only visitor they'd had was her old friend Thorax, and that was a whole week ago. As for their other friends – Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, Sweetie-Belle, Featherweight...even his uncle Steamer – not one of them seemed to have been able to look in on the young unicorn. “You really miss them, don't you?” she sympathised.
The only response Locomotion could manage was a stiff nod before burying his face in her mane. “I can't cope with this, Hornette,” he whimpered plaintively. “I wanna go home.”
Just hearing the pained, lonesome tone of his voice made Hornette's heart bleed. She hated seeing Locomotion so vulnerable and depressed, and the general lack of activities that might help him cope only made her feel worse. It wasn't the first time she had seen him so low either; for as he began to recover physically, she noticed his mood had begun to decline after a few days, and tonight, it seemed, he was at his lowest ebb. Humming a gentle tune to try and lull him back to sleep, she quietly resolved to speak to one of the doctors about it the following morning.
“...the thing is, Dr Cavell...Loco's been getting really homesick lately, and I've noticed it's been affecting his mood. I was wondering if...maybe he could be transferred to another hospital nearer home? Or maybe to the one in Ponyville itself?”
Dr Cavell frowned and shook her head. “I'm sorry, Hornette,” she confessed with genuine sympathy, “but we can't transfer Loco anywhere in his current state. He's still too fragile; there's every chance his injuries might be aggravated while in transit.”
“Even if we were to go by train?” asked Hornette in dismay.
“I'm afraid so.”
The young changeling let loose an unhappy sigh. She could see how torn apart Locomotion was with this revelation, but couldn't bear to watch his self-esteem deteriorate any further. “Is there anything that can be done for him?” she pleaded, almost desperately.
“Well...we can offer him some counselling, if you like,” offered Dr Cavell.
“Counselling...what does that involve?” wondered Hornette, trying to remember where she'd heard that word before.
“It's a byword for what we in the medical profession call 'psychotherapy',” explained the doctor. “In other words, it's when a psychologist lends a sympathetic ear to a patient suffering from...say, clinical depression, and helps them find ways of coping.”
Secretly, Hornette couldn't help grimacing at the mention of “clinical depression”. She already knew how badly it had affected Locomotion in the past; not only through Applejack's tale of his suicide attempt at Ghastly Gorge all those years ago, but from the self-inflicted head injury he had sustained after learning that her “murderer” had been Brainwashed all along. “In that case, yes,” she replied, “as long as Loco's okay with it. Heaven knows I'm doing all I can to keep his spirits up myself.”
Locomotion needed no second bidding. “Anything's better than just lying here all miserable and...stuff,” he agreed. “Just one thing, doc...”
“Yes?”
“Could we have some counselling for Hornette as well?”
Hornette gave him a surprised double-take. “Me?”
“Yeah, I mean...think about it, Hornette,” said Locomotion gravely, taking hold of her hoof and gazing into her eyes. “Sure, I've lost an aunt, failed to prevent a train crash and nearly been killed myself at least twice...but you've had to watch your friends turned to savages by the thousand, suffered endless mental abuse just for being kinder and more sympathetic, narrowly evaded a violent murder attempt,” shuddering in discomfort at the memory, “and to cap it all, you nearly lost two of your closest friends, me included. You've had a whole lifetime's worth of emotional baggage to deal with, and all in the space of a measly sixteen years.”
An uneasy sigh escaped Hornette's lips. “Yeah, I...that is true,” she conceded. “I just...don't know if I can go ahead with it. Sharing my burdens with you was painful enough, but...supposing this counselling pony makes me feel even worse about my past?”
“Then they're not doing their job properly,” interjected Dr Cavell reassuringly. “We have a strict non-discriminatory policy in the Equestrian Health Service. Any patient in our care is to be treated with kindness and sympathy, regardless of their species or condition; and that extends to you too, Hornette. You've no need to feel embarrassed either,” she added. “It's all confidential; and if you find you can't cope, we can stop at any time you wish.”
There was a long silence as she allowed Hornette to take it all in. At last, Locomotion spoke up again; “I know this might be a bit much for you, Hornette,” he whispered, giving her hoof a gentle squeeze, “and believe you me, I wholly understand your feelings...but let's face it, you need that counselling as much as I do – maybe even more.” He paused, looking ruefully down at his lap. Deep down, he couldn't help feeling a little upset about having to do this to her, despite knowing in his heart how much she truly needed it. “Please, Hornette...for my sake...”
Hornette considered – and finally nodded. “Alright, Loco,” she said bravely. “I suppose I could do worse than give it a try at least.”
“That's a good girl,” encouraged Dr Cavell. “I'll go and arrange it with the head physician; and don't forget, you can opt out at any time you want for whatever reason.” With that, she turned and left the room.
As the door closed, Locomotion tentatively looked up at Hornette again. “I'm not being too pushy about this...am I?” he ventured.
“Well...no, I wouldn't say that,” mused Hornette, who was secretly still in doubt about her own decision. “You're quite right, Loco; I have been through a lot. I'm just a little nervous is all.”
“I know how you feel,” sympathised Locomotion. “First counselling session I ever had, shortly after my...you know...in Ghastly Gorge – I was pretty cagey myself. Even when I began to open up, I got so emotional in more ways than one that I feared I might upset my therapist. Still,” he went on, smiling wryly in spite of himself, “it took a lot of weight off my back, just sitting there, offloading to somepony, not needing to hold back even if I thought I did...it's like how you've been sharing your own grievances with me, only you're sharing them with a professional.”
The only reply he got from Hornette was an uncertain half-smile.
Nearly an hour passed before a knock at the door attracted the young couple's attention, and into the room stepped a middle-aged zebra mare dressed in a light brown jacket and half-moon glasses. She was holding a clipboard and medical bag in her right arm, and her malachite green eyes bore a kindly glint as she approached them. “Locomotion and Hornette, Ah believe?” she asked in a deep, soft Southern drawl.
“Uh...yeah, that's us,” stammered a bemused Locomotion.
The zebra held out a hoof for him to shake. “Dr Furaha. Ah'm gonna be yo' counsellor fo' the duration o' yo' stay.” She chuckled slightly as Locomotion hastily snapped out of his trance and accepted her hoof. “Were y'all expectin' someone else?” she joked heartily.
“Eh? Uh...no, not exactly,” said Locomotion awkwardly. “It just came as a surprise, being treated by a zebra and all.”
“Hmm...yeah, Ah see where yo' comin' from,” mused Dr Furaha. “Ain't too many of us in the medical sector – a lot of us are mo' sort'a bush craft an' cottage industry types. This yo' first time meetin' a zebra then?”
“Well...not really. Our local apothecary is a zebra too – name of Zecora.”
“Oh, really?” Dr Furaha's eyes lit up with interest. “A zebra livin' in Ponyville – well Ah never! Anyways,” she went on, quickly remembering herself, “Ah understand from yo' medical files, Locomotion...”
“Call me Loco.”
“Ah – Loco, thank y'all...Ah understand y'all have a history of clinical depression,” said Dr Furaha, pulling up a chair next to him and Hornette.
Locomotion frowned, his bewilderment turning back to sorrow. “That's right,” he affirmed. “I went through a pretty gloomy spell three years ago, and my Mum and doctor reckon I'd been through a similar ordeal just before my ninth birthday.”
Dr Furaha nodded, taking a quill in her left hoof and writing on her clipboard. “So yo' been to see a counsellor before?”
“Yeah, but Hornette hasn't. She did have a really close friend named Thorax, but he was...'taken' from her when she was about nine or ten...in a manner of speaking.”
“As in...deceased?”
“No,” answered Hornette, who up to that point had been too nervous to say anything or even make eye contact. “More like...Brainwashed, just like the others. Chrysalis did it to try and repress all potential enemies, and could have done the same to me if I hadn't run away.” She looked down at the floor, fidgeting uncomfortably. “S-s-sorry, I...it's just a bit...well...”
Sensing her unease, Dr Furaha smiled kindly and took hold of one of her hooves. “Hey, no need to be so shy, darlin',” she soothed. “Y'all just take yo' time, an' try not ta think o' me as a doctor – mo' la'k a...real close friend, someone y'all can trust even with yo' darkest secrets. Ah won't judge, no matter what ya tell me.” She said no more, but simply sat patiently and waited for Hornette to compose herself.
For a few long and tedious minutes, all was so silent in the room that you could hear a pin drop. Locomotion, for his part, was beginning to worry that Hornette might not be able to cope after all; but at the same time, he wasn't sure how to take it all back, or even make it easier for her. After what felt like an age, he was just about to say something (he wasn't sure what) when Hornette beat him to it; “Oh, it was horrible, what she did to us!” she blurted out hysterically. “So many other changelings harmed or even killed, none of us allowed to speak freely...we couldn't even think of ways she could run the kingdom better without being shouted at!”
And before any of them knew it, the young changeling was venting about her past experiences like there was no tomorrow; some of which Locomotion remembered her talking about, but others were much more gruesome and horrific. The further he listened, the more thunderstruck he became as Hornette recounted stories of other, far less lenient changelings demeaning, insulting and even brutalising her for her beliefs. One particularly chilling tale, he felt, was of a newly appointed guard morphing into a lion and swiping her across the head – just because she had been wondering out loud if ponies and changelings could ever be friends. What really cut to the bone was that, having seen the attack, her mother simply scowled and berated her for being a spineless worm. The anguish in Hornette's voice was soon augmented by streams of tears, prompting Locomotion to hold her close with his good arm; and by the time she had finished, she was clinging onto her beau and sobbing so hard that her body convulsed repeatedly.
If there was one thing Locomotion had come to expect of all counsellors, it was a calm, open-minded and wholly unflappable attitude that never wavered. Such was his surprise and dismay, then, when he noticed that even Dr Furaha seemed a little stunned by what she had heard. “Mah stars, Hornette!” she sympathised, still jotting. “That's quite a nasty past you've been through – there's enough material there fo' a whole conference!” She looked gravely across to Locomotion; “Normally, Ah wouldn't even contemplate breachin' confidentiality, but...with yo' permission, Loco...Ah really do think Ah ought ta relay this information to the princesses.”
“Do what?!” exclaimed Locomotion, aghast. “But...how the flabberwocky's that gonna help?! The poor girl's having a hard enough time without us going public about her...”
“Ah don't intend ta make this common knowledge, Loco,” Dr Furaha interjected reasonably. “Ah promise y'all, Ah respect her privacy as much as the next doctor; but if this is what Hornette's had ta suffer, then heaven knows what it's done ta the rest o' her kind. That's why Ah think the princesses ought ta be informed – if they were ta know how bad those changelings 'ave had it, there's incentive fo' them ta set up a relief fund.”
Only then did Locomotion begin to understand; “Oh, what, so that they too can get all the counselling they need?” he asked, perking up a bit when Dr Furaha nodded in reply. “Right, yeah, I get it now.” He paused, gazing down at his fillyfriend. She had managed to calm down somewhat, but still seemed a little fragile emotionally. “Well...in that case, I...I guess I'm okay with it – but that kinda depends on what Hornette thinks,” he decided, hoping she would take the hint.
Still sniffling, Hornette pulled away from him and gazed almost pleadingly at Dr Furaha. “You...you won't tell them too much...will you?” she faltered.
“Course Ah won't, sweetie,” the zebra doctor promised. “Sure, Ah'll have ta cite a few o' yo' worst foalhood memories in mah report; but most of it'll just be a summary of what ya been tellin' me. Will that be okay?”
Hornette pondered. As sensitive as her foalhood experiences had been, she knew deep down that Dr Furaha was right. “Yeah...I guess so,” she stammered bravely.
“So does that mean Ah can have yo' consent?”
“Yeah.”
“That's the stuff, Hornette,” encouraged Dr Furaha kindly, and scribbled a note at the bottom of her clipboard. “Anythin' else ya wish ta tell me before Ah move onto Loco?”
But the young changeling had clearly had enough, and wearily shook her head in reply.
“Okay then,” smiled Dr Furaha, “Ah won't trouble y'all any further today. So, Loco,” she went on, turning to the young red stallion, “about these, uh...these 'gloomy patches' y'all mentioned earlier – what was it, do you think, that first triggered 'em?”
“Think? I know what triggered them,” grimaced Locomotion. “First one was...” He broke off, his gaze drifting back to his changeling. “Actually, Hornette,” he ventured uneasily, “mightn't this be a good time to go and get something to eat?”
Hornette blinked incredulously. “While you sit here and relive old memories? No thank you!” she objected.
“Seriously, Hornette, this is gonna get very emotional very quickly.”
“Then all the more reason for me to stay,” insisted Hornette. “You've already been hurt twice because I wasn't there for you – I could never forgive myself if it happens a third time. You've given me many a shoulder to cry on, Loco; now's the time for me to do the same for you, no matter how bad it gets.”
“And if I start getting...you know...edgy?” asked Locomotion.
“Then...I might have to keep my distance, but I'll still understand. I repeat; I'm not going anywhere.”
Secretly, Locomotion wasn't convinced, but he thought better of arguing any further. “Well...if you insist,” he muttered doubtfully; and began telling Dr Furaha about his own traumas, from the accident with the Bridleway Limited which he had tried and failed to prevent, through the brief rift between him and Hornette following her attempted murder, to the loss of his aunt aboard a Constellation airliner and the suicide attempt that followed. He told her about his early foalhood, how the local council at his birthplace had let him and his family down, and all the struggles he had faced even after moving to Ponyville.
Perhaps it was all the pent-up stress that he hadn't recognised up till now; perhaps his homesickness was really starting to catch up with him by this point; or perhaps the drugs he had been given to aid his recovery were having an adverse side effect on him. Either way, he did indeed become edgy – so edgy, in fact, that Hornette soon began to worry. For as much as she knew he didn't mean any harm, especially on his own fillyfriend, his tone was so anguished and his body language so animated that she feared he might hurt himself. But amazingly, Dr Furaha never even flinched – she just continued to sit and listen, as patiently and sympathetically as she had done with Hornette.
This went on for over three quarters of an hour, with Locomotion becoming more and more hysterical by the minute. “...and that's not even half the story! Just when I was starting to recover, that insensitive idiot Blueblood comes along and makes a mockery outta the whole thing by ordering the whole fleet back into service!”
“Hmm...yeah, Ah read about that,” observed Dr Furaha. “From what Ah recall, they hadn't even found out the cause by then.”
“Exactly! 'Oh, we all know it was sabotage; you half-wit peasants are panicking over nothing,' he says – and guess what,” Locomotion ranted on, angrily raising his voice, “the same thing happens to another Constellation just one week later! Another six-hundred odd lives lost, all because that STUCK-UP, SNOBBISH, FECKLESS, HIGH AND MIGHTY S...ah...” Suddenly, his face took on a look of inexplicable distress. He stopped mid-sentence, wavering for a moment with his left arm raised before slumping back against the headboard.
Hornette jumped up in alarm. “Loco!” she cried despairingly. “Loco, what's wrong?!”
But Locomotion was in too much of a state to answer properly. His eyes flickered, and his body twitched and trembled as he mumbled something that sounded like, “Ooh...salad on the brain...!”
“What?!” Hornette looked across to Dr Furaha, visibly baffled.
Already, the zebra was anxiously listening to Locomotion's chest, with one hoof laid across his left pastern. Before Hornette could ask what she was doing, she pulled back with a sigh of relief. “It's alright, Hornette,” she said thankfully as she reached into her bag. “He's just disoriented 'cause he's gone into shock.”
“Is...is that a bad thing?” asked Hornette tremulously.
“Well...kinda depends on the severity, really,” explained Dr Furaha, pulling out a syringe. “What's happened here is that his heart rate's spiked, an' because his blood pressure can't keep up, his body's not gettin' as much oxygen from the blood cells. Good thing it's only mild ta moderate in his case.” She paused for a moment while she injected the contents into Locomotion's arm. “It's a' that shoutin' an' rantin' that's done it,” she frowned. “Too much stress at exactly the wrong time.”
Hornette was so dismayed that she almost broke down into tears again. “And there I was hoping it'd help him recover,” she faltered, looking guiltily down at the floor.
“Hey,” soothed Dr Furaha, “it's okay, sweetheart. The firs' session's always the hardest; but it usually gets easier the mo' it goes on. If anything, it was mah mistake not ta sedate 'im before he started blowin' his top,” she added wryly. “Maybe next time, we ought ta talk mo'...positive, la'k.”
“If there is a next time,” murmured Hornette sadly.
“There will be. Ah'll be lookin' in on y'all daily, an' we won't talk about anythin' too painful or stressful until yo' both feelin' better, both physically an' mentally,” promised Dr Furaha, giving the young changeling a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Just then, a low, weak groan diverted their attention as Locomotion groggily came round. He looked up at the doctor through bleary eyes, wondering what had just hit him. “Alright, Loco,” she said gently, “just take it easy. Yo' in shock right now; ya need ta rest.”
“I...am?” Locomotion groaned again, this time in annoyance. “Cripes, no wonder I feel so faint. Guess that serves me right for getting so mad,” he grumbled.
Dr Furaha suppressed a chuckle and shook her head. “Not at all,” she observed. “It's perfectly natural ta be angry when grievin', Loco; there's no need ta be ashamed of it. An' don't ever feel ya have ta bottle up yo' feelings, either of y'all,” she added philosophically. “Just remember, no matter where ya are or how hard it is ta talk about yo' troubles, there's always someone willin' ta help ya through them.”
Locomotion was so touched that he gave a weak but grateful smile for the first time in several hours. “Thanks, doc,” he murmured. “I guess I kinda needed that reminder, after all that emotional torture just now.”
“That's alright,” replied Dr Furaha kindly. “Ah'll leave you two alone now – ya both look la'k ya could do with some quiet time. Ah'll be back same time tomorrow; an' then we can talk mo' about things that cheer ya up. Okay?”
“Sure,” conceded Locomotion without a second thought. “That'd be much easier.”
“Yeah, same here,” agreed Hornette solemnly.
“Good. Ah'll see ya tomorrow, then.” With that, Dr Furaha picked up her bag and took her leave.
For a while, nothing was spoken between pony and changeling. It was Hornette who eventually broke the silence; “How are you feeling?” she ventured.
“Dizzy,” said Locomotion simply. “Yourself?”
“Well...a little tired, if I'm honest,” replied Hornette. “Funny thing is, though,” she remarked, a look of genuine surprise in her eyes, “I actually feel kind of...refreshed as well.”
Locomotion smiled weakly. “Yeah, me too. Kinda weird, really, how all it takes is a simple rant about some horrible memories,” he quipped, chuckling a little in spite of himself.
“More than 'horrible', the way you were talking,” sympathised Hornette. “I don't think I've ever seen you so hysterical before.”
“Probably a good thing you hadn't,” went on Locomotion wryly. “Like I said, my burdens were nothing compared to yours. The last thing you needed was an epic meltdown on my part, especially during our trek into the...well, the erstwhile Badlands.”
“Yeah,” murmured Hornette, her expression turning thoughtful, “you do have a point there, Loco. It did get me thinking, though...” She paused mid-sentence.
“Yeah? Thinking what?” prompted Locomotion at last.
“...that maybe my views on metamorphosis were a little flawed,” continued Hornette, blushing ruefully. “I always thought it malicious and deceitful; but looking back...and considering Thorax's story about the history of our kind...maybe my refusal to master it wasn't such a good idea after all.”
Locomotion blinked in surprise. “You actually want to learn how to shape-shift?”
“Well...yes,” affirmed Hornette earnestly. “If I'd done so in the first place, I...probably wouldn't have been so vulnerable to attack.”
“And neither would I have been able to see the pretty face behind the mask,” added Locomotion fondly. “But I respect your wishes, Hornette. You're right – this whole metamorphosis thing could've been a real life-saver in the long run. And who knows; it may come in handy at fancy dress parties and the like.”
That brought the smile back to Hornette's face. “I never thought about it like that,” she said thoughtfully. “You might have something there, Loco.”
“Well, maybe we can write to Thorax when we get home – see if he can recommend some kind of tutor,” offered Locomotion. “You never know, he or she could even act as our new counsellor!”
“Maybe,” mused Hornette quietly. Just then, her train of thought was disturbed by a knock at the door. “It's open,” she called.
Right on cue, the door swung open as a hospital porter entered. “Mail call for Locomotion,” he announced, pulling a large stack of letters and parcels from the postal satchel he was carrying. “Sorry it didn't get here sooner – the train from Canterlot must've been held up.”
But Locomotion was so stunned by the size of the bundle that he barely heard a word. He stared in bewilderment, wondering if he was dreaming. “I...i-i-is all that for me?” he stuttered in disbelief.
“Sure is,” said the porter, setting the mail down on Locomotion's bedside table. “I've checked it – forty-seven cards from Ponyville, a few from Manehattan, two from Fillydelphia and one from Baltimare. Haven't checked which parcels came from where. Anyway, sorry I can't stop and chat,” he finished. “Plenty of other patients to attend to,” and with little more than a polite nod, he trotted briskly out of the room.
Hornette smiled thankfully as she fixed her gaze on the sealed envelopes at the top of the stack. “Well,” she murmured, “that's a mercy. And there was I wondering if Mrs Fair Isle had forgotten.”
“Hmm? What's that about Mum?” asked Locomotion, still puzzled.
“She and your sisters came to see you about...ten days ago, while you were still unconscious,” explained Hornette. “They couldn't stay very long, so they promised to write you as soon as you came round, and Surfie said that all your friends were planning to do the same.” Her expression turned sombre. “Your mother was really distraught when she saw the state you were in. I promised her I'd keep you company, but she was still afraid you might get lonely when you woke up.”
Locomotion raised his hoof to his chest, tears pricking at his eyes. He couldn't understand why his family didn't just pay him another visit, but he was still deeply touched that they should write to him at least.
“Do, um...do you want to read them, or shall I?”
“Could you, please?” asked Locomotion. “I'm still feeling too light-headed to read anything.”
With a warm smile of affirmation, Hornette levitated the stack of letters across to her side of the bed, and opened the bright red envelope right at the top to find a greeting card with a Claud Hoofington locomotive on its cover. As she read the contents out loud, both she and Locomotion could almost hear his mother's voice reading the message in her turn;
Dear Loco,
Fantastic, we've only just heard that you're awake at long last, and are so relieved to know you're alright. How are you feeling? I imagine it must be really hard for you being in a hospital so far from family and friends. It's been agonising not being able to visit whenever we want. We're so glad you're finally on the mend.
We all miss you very much, and are desperate to see you. Your sisters and I did manage to pay you a visit a few days before you woke up, but between the long journey times and our having to testify on your and Hornette's behalves in the lawsuits regarding her framing last month, it just hasn't been possible to come down more frequently. There's nothing I would want more than to travel down to El Pinto and give you a great big hug, and it really tears me up that I can't do that.
In the meantime, I have sent you some of your favourite Rodney the Railway Engine books so you won't get bored. Hope you get well soon.
Lots and lots of love
Mum
XXXX
P.S.: If Hornette is reading this, then could you please give Loco a hug from me? Thank you.
Unable to hold his tears back, Locomotion leaned over and wept into Hornette's shoulder as she gently wrapped her arms around his barrel, letting loose a few tears of her own. For a fleeting moment, even though it was just the two of them, he felt like he was back in his mother's warm, loving embrace; and he didn't care that this one was only second-hoof. All that mattered to him was that his mother – and indeed his whole family – truly cared for him, and longed to have him home again.
And as the two of them began opening the other cards and presents, so the young red stallion was reminded how much his friends cared for him too – from simple acquaintances such as Alula, Shady Daze and First Base, right the way through to some of his best friends including Pipsqueak, Lickety-Split and the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Despite his near solitude and the distance that separated him from those he knew so well, he couldn't help but think back to Dr Furaha's kindly words of wisdom;
“No matter where ya are or how hard it is ta talk about yo' troubles, there's always someone willin' ta help ya through them.”
Author's Note
In the event, none of Loco's family and friends got to see him until he and Hornette came home.
This story is largely inspired by my own experiences with clinical depression, which at one point led me to undergo counselling myself - though thankfully not under such debilitating circumstances, and not in a hospital setting either. I would therefore like to dedicate this story, and particularly the OC of Dr Furaha (which translates as "joy" in Swahili), to my real-life counsellor and everyone else who helped me out of my depression. Also, special thanks to my mum for assisting me with the letter at the very end.
Once again, my utmost sympathy to anyone and everyone who is struggling to cope with this pandemic. It's been a really hard year for all of us, and I for one can only hope that it'll all come to an end soon. In the meantime, stay safe and look after yourselves.
