Long-Distance

by Bicyclette

Rating: teen
Tags: Wallflower Blush, Death, Sunset Shimmer, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Drama, Equestria Girls, Science Fiction
Length: 13941

Destabilized by Equestrian magic, Wallflower’s world is dying. For its sake, Sunset had to leave forever. All Wallflower can do is hold on to the last connection they still have: the journal Sunset left behind.

Shortdesc

Destabilized by Equestrian magic, Wallflower’s world is dying. For its sake, Sunset had to leave forever. All Wallflower can do is hold on to the last connection they still have: the journal Sunset left behind.

Review

Long-Distance is a wrenching story and more than one of our judges said that, though they won’t ever be able to bring themselves to re-read it, it will stay with us for a long time. Everything is ending, it may or may not be anyone’s fault, and there is nothing anyone can do about it. The time it will take to reach that final tragedy doesn’t make it any less remote. Sunset and Wallflower are separated across worlds, and have only Sunset’s journal to link them. One of them will die and the other will live on. They’re left to learn how to cope with and share and grieve the time they have left.

Long-Distance is superbly written, with just enough detail about the nature of the tragedy to make it feel realized without overwhelming readers with exposition. There’s a novel’s worth of story in this short story, but none of it feels compressed. Sunset and Wallflower’s tightly written, wrenching, and affecting, and the last chapter left us breathless.

--Judges of Scampy's SunFlower Shipping Contest

The result was an emotional tale of making the best out of a bad situation through inevitability and – if you’ll pardon the title drop – long distance. Bicyclette’s work is a delightful story that exemplifies how to Show a hard-hitting story through meaningful dialogue, contextual narrative clues, vivid scene setting, and a firm grasp of the characters and their struggles.

--PaulAsaran, Paul's Thursday Reviews CCCXLVII

Contest

Literal last-minute entry to Scampy's SunFlower Shipping Contest, and now unexpectedly the fourth-place winner. Go read the other entries please, there's a lot of good stuff in there!

I originally pulled this story for revisions after the contest results came out. I regret this, and I am sorry.

Credits

Thanks to Sledge115 for emotional support!

Published 2021-04-11 07:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2023-07-31 03:07:57 UTC

1. Neighbor

Wallflower looked at the apartment door and sighed. Why was this so hard for her? What was wrong with— No. Nothing was wrong with her. She could still hear Sunset’s voice saying that. No. She was just uncomfortable with some things, and that was okay. Even if it was something as simple as talking to a neighbor. It’s not how she grew up, after all. To her, neighbors were for smiling pleasantly to if you passed by them in the hallway. Nothing more.

But this wasn’t for her. This was for Sunset. This was because Sunset wasn’t here—

She rapped the door with her knuckles, as if banishing that thought. She tried to stop herself from cringing as the door slowly creaked open. She forced a smile.

“Hi, Ms. Rose! With everything that was going on, I just wanted to see how you were doing!” Too fast. What was that? “I’m, uh, your neighbor! Wallflower Blush!” She cringed at how stupid saying her full name must have sounded. A pair of fuschia eyes observed her silently from behind a thick pair of glasses. An awkward moment passed, as Wallflower’s smile faltered.

“What? I’m sorry.” The old lady disappeared from the open door for a moment. “Forgot to put my hearing aid in.”

Wallflower’s stomach knotted with dread at the thought of having to repeat herself, but Ms. Rose spoke first.

“You’re the neighbor girl, ain’t ya? The quiet one. Wallflower whatsit.“

“That’s right!” she said with relief. “I, uh, just wanted to check in on how you were doing! You know, with everything that’s going on…“

“Oh, of course!” Ms. Rose brightened as she turned around and began heading back inside. Wallflower watched her back for a second, confused, until she called out, “Well, what are you waiting for? Come on in! Kettle should still be hot.”

Wallflower fought her instinct to make up an excuse and disappear, and cautiously stepped inside. She had secretly wondered how an old lady could possibly live in an apartment like Sunset’s, and the answer was that she didn’t. Sure, the interior walls didn’t go all the way up to the ceiling, but it did make the place feel more traditional, reinforced by the woman’s apparent taste in furniture.

“Have a seat in the living room, dear”, Ms. Rose called from the little walled-off kitchen, and Wallflower did so, taking a seat on the least overstuffed chair she could find. She looked up to see Ms. Rose shuffling towards her, balancing a clattering tray in her hands.

“Oh, you really didn’t have to!” Wallflower got up, extending her arms. “Here, I could at least take that for you—”

“Nonsense, nonsense,” Ms. Rose insisted as she kept shuffling closer, her body language shrugging off any silly notion that she needed anything that looked like help. “I can manage making tea for a guest!” She set down the tray on the coffee table, and only then did Wallflower sit back down onto her chair, trying to make herself shrink into the cushions. Ms. Rose noticed this, and spoke with a softer voice.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I’m sure you didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just…” She let out a wheezy chuckle. “Once you get to a certain age, people stop thinking of you as a real person who can do things. You become invisible, you know? “

Wallflower gave a nervous smile, and said nothing.

“Ah!” Ms. Rose threw up her hands in sudden realization. “Can you believe it! With everything going on, here I am complaining about being old!” She gave another wheezy chuckle before smiling at Wallflower, her eyes full of pity. “How old are you, dear? Twenty-five?”

“Uh, twenty, actually.”

“Twenty!” she marveled. “So you’ll only be forty years old when it happens. What a shame. Much too young.” She shook her head. “Much too young. Oh, but you don’t need me to tell you that. Or Miss Sunset.” Ms. Rose looked at her and smiled sweetly. “I’m sorry to admit it, but I was surprised when I saw it was you and not her at the door just now. She does most of the talking for the two of you, doesn’t she? Ah, tea should be all steeped now.”

“Oh, that’s one reason I’m here,” Wallflower frowned as Ms. Rose poured out two mugs. “She had to move back home, to be with her family. She wanted me to tell you that she’s sorry she left without saying goodbye. It was all very sudden.”

“Oh.” Ms. Rose’s smile fell. “That is a shame. But with everything going on, I do understand. Folks all over are rethinking things. Why, my son even called me the day that horrible announcement came! Said he wanted me to move in with his family. Can you imagine?” She laughed. “He calls once a month if I’m lucky, hardly visits, and all of a sudden…” She looked at Wallflower again, and frowned. “Oh, here I am, complaining about my life again, when I have nothing to complain about! It’s you young folks that have it the worst. Twenty years old…”

Ms. Rose was no longer looking at her but past her, and around the walls of the apartment. Wallflower did so as well, for the first time taking in the maps, the paintings, and especially the framed photographs. When they weren’t of landscapes or landmarks, they always had at least the same two people in them, one of whom she recognized as a much younger Ms. Rose.

“Forty years on this Earth, with the love of my life. Oh, how wonderful it was. Not enough, but it never would have been enough, would it, dear?” She sighed. “And it’s such a shame. If you and Sunset are as lucky as we were, you would only get half as much.”

Wallflower’s eyes widened. “M-me and Sunset?”

“Come now, dear! I may be old, but my mind’s not gone yet!” She laughed. “I knew from the moment I heard her voice brighten when she mentioned you for the first time!”

Wallflower smiled, unexpectedly fighting back tears. It felt really good to be seen. To have been seen…

“Now, I do hope you young kids are still trying to make it work. It really would be a shame, to let a little distance come between you two!”

A little distance. Wallflower tried not to wince. “Yeah, we’re trying,” she said in a small voice. “We’re taking it one day at a time.”

“But it’s not so bad these days, right?” Ms. Rose insisted. “Those what-do-you-call-its, long-distance relationships. Why, with all the texts and video calls you kids have now, it’ll be like she’s never left at all!“

“Yeah…” Wallflower avoided her gaze.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I know it won’t be the same.” Ms. Rose gave her a sympathetic look. “But don’t worry. It just has to last you until things settle down. Before you know it, you will be together again, I’m sure.”

“That does sound nice,” Wallflower managed, meeting her gaze this time. She smiled at the thought of it. The fantasy.

Ms. Rose gave her a smile in return, a tinge of conspiracy at its corner. “Now. Would you want to hear the story about how I met young Miss Sunset?”

Wallflower’s eyes widened. “I really would!” she blurted, surprising herself.

Ms. Rose began with a laugh. “It was the very first day that she moved in. Why, it was like the poor girl had never used an elevator before! Like she was from another world…”

After passing a pleasant afternoon with the woman she had been avoiding having to talk to for a year, Wallflower was back home,
She picked up a familiar brown notebook with an emblem of the sun on the cover from the coffee table. She opened it to see Sunset’s newest message on the page.

How did it go?

She took a pen and wrote her reply underneath, a green glow tracing behind her pen tip.

It went great! I feel so silly having been so nervous! She was really nice.

An orange glow traced out a reply in black ink right away.

I’m glad! How is she doing?

She’s doing fine! She seemed happy, even. She said she’s moving in with her son’s family.

Oh, yeah! She was always talking about how I talk to her more than her own son. Haha.

Wallflower could all but hear that brassy chuckle. She smiled.

Oh, and a funny thing. She said that she was so happy to watch you grow up from being just out of high school. I think she thinks you’re older than you really are.

Haha, that makes sense!

And she said that she’ll miss you and your little chats.

A bit of a pause.

I’ll miss her, too. I’m so glad I got to say goodbye through you. Thank you so much for doing this for me, Wally.

Wallflower smiled.

She also said you didn’t have to worry about paying her back for the washing machine.

She told you about that?

Yeah! The whole story!

Ugh, I can’t believe it. That was only a month after I got to your world, I still didn’t really know how human clothes worked!

Wallflower laughed.

It was really nice, hearing her talk about you! It was like

Wallflower’s smile faded as she hesitated before continuing.

It was like you were still here.

Her words lay still for a few seconds. Wallflower felt the guilt build before Sunset replied.

I’m still here, Wally.

I know. I’m sorry. I just miss you, is all. I just

She kept her pen on the “t”. Fighting back tears. Wishing she knew what to say.

What are we doing?

Another pause, before the glow of Sunset’s orange traced out a reply.

We’re taking it one day at a time.

The orange light stood still atop the period. Wallflower stared at in silence for a bit before pressing the tip of her pen on the same spot. A green glow shone, mixing and mingling with the orange.

She imagined the warmth of Sunset’s hand on hers.

2. Friends

Wallflower awkwardly clamped her forearms around Rarity as she went in for a hug. When Rarity let go, she let go, stepping back into the apartment doorway.

“A spectacular soirée as always, darling!” Rarity sang. “I always do enjoy the delightful bohemian ambiance you and Sunset have cultivated here.”

“Thanks, Rarity!” Wallflower smiled sheepishly, knowing how generous she was being by including her in that sentence. “It’s no Pinkie Pie party, but I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Oh, of course! How could I not enjoy an evening spent in such wonderful company? Besides, not everything has to be a Pinkie Pie party, you know. Why, one time, she had gotten it into her head that all her parties needed themes, so she—”

A cough. Wallflower glanced past Rarity’s shoulder to see Applejack looking at them with an amused smile. Rarity did not turn around.

“Well, I should get out of your hair! But I do hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” She made as if glancing past Wallflower into the apartment. “The both of you!”

“Thanks!” Wallflower beamed, genuinely heartened. “I hope you two have a great evening, too.”

“Oh don’t you worry about that!” Another cough, louder and much more annoyed. “Ah, of course! I must be off. So long!”

Rarity set off to disappear under the hook of Applejack’s elbow, who turned her head back to give Wallflower a crisp wave before heading down the hallway toward the elevator. Wallflower watched them for a few seconds before finally closing the apartment door. She let her shoulders slump. A sigh escaped her lips.

She stumbled to her closet, opened the door, and smiled at the familiar ensemble waiting for her on a hanger. After changing into it, she doubled back to the coffee table to grab the journal, then headed up the stairs. Tossing herself onto her bed, she propped up the journal on her stomach and opened it, skimming backwards through the most recently written pages. She grinned as her eyes took in the mess of lines in the varying styles of her friends. Twilight’s precise print, Rainbow Dash’s barely legible scribbles, Fluttershy’s swooping calligraphy. The last thing written was an enthusiastic “Until next time!” in Sunset’s familiar script. Below that, a single dot was glowing orange on the page.

Wallflower took her pen and pressed the tip on top of the dot, adding an overlapping glow of green. A sense of calm washed over her. She sighed happily.

The orange dot began to move, and Wallflower lifted her pen off the page to read.

So, who was the last one to leave?

It was Rarity! You win.

Ha, knew it!

But they were all slow to leave, really. I think I’m just starting to believe that they’re my friends, too.

I’ve been telling you that the whole time, Wally! You’re more than just their friend’s girlfriend, you know.

I know. But that’s what I was back when we started dating! It’s funny, actually.

What is?

At first they would sort of talk to me through you, you know? You would say things like “Fluttershy says ‘hi’”, or “Twilight said you might like this book”. But now, they text me when they want to tell you something, and you write me things to text to them about. We switched places.

You’re just being there to do the things I can’t for me. I can’t thank you enough for that.

I don’t know. It feels more like I stole your friends. Like I stole your life, really.

Wally, don’t be silly.

I don’t know, I can’t help it! I live in your apartment. I sleep in your bed. I’m even wearing your pajamas.

She raised her arm up, letting the sleeve scrunch down below her elbow.

You are? I’m super glad I managed to convince you to wash them, then.

Wallflower laughed, though some part of her really did still regret that, just like with the bedsheets. She swore they still smelled like her when… She tried not to think about it. Sunset continued writing.

And we talked about this when you moved in. It’s our apartment, not mine. And really, it’s your apartment now. I don’t live there anymore.

Wallflower frowned. She sat up to look around at the guitars hung on the walls, the shelves full of books that weren’t hers, that broken alarm clock on the nightstand. She hadn’t really brought much when she moved in besides a few plants, her clothes, and a bunch of boxes, still packed.

I know. I just can’t think of anything I want to change.

I just don’t like the idea of you keeping everything the way it was because of me. I want you to live, Wally. To make that place your own.

I know! I’m sorry. You took me to a place where I could live and grow, nothing like that dark, quiet apartment, and look what I did with it! I made it a shrine to you. I even still have your leather jacket hanging by the door where you left it. I’ve really become my mother.

You haven’t, Wally. And I don’t want you to live in a shrine to me. I’m not gone. I’m still here.

An orange dot glowed on the period. Wallflower held her pen on it for a few moments.

I know. You always wanted me to express myself in this place. I just never knew what that meant for me. I meant what I said before. I can’t think of anything I want to change. I can’t think of anything I want enough to bother, you know? You saw what my old bedroom was like.

Well, maybe you don’t have to do it on your own. Our friends were just in here. Maybe they could help you figure out how to express yourself.

Wallflower smiled as she thought about the idea.

Yeah, that could work. Maybe they know me better than I do.

And you should let them have as many of my things as they can take. I’m sure Rainbow Dash has a better use for those guitars. That way it won’t feel like you’re getting rid of my things, while making space for yourself.

That sounds nice.

I’d much rather see my old things getting used than sit around. And that includes the leather jacket.

Wallflower laughed.

What, you want me to start wearing it?

Why not? You’re wearing my pajamas right now, aren’t you?

Wallflower hugged her own body, feeling the soft cotton and the warmth of her own arms through it. Closing her eyes, she could imagine the warmth of Sunset’s body against hers. She opened them again.

But that’s different. I’m not the leather jacket type.

It’s just a jacket, babe. I can see you totally pulling it off.

Yeah, maybe!

She imagined it for a moment.

I can see it. Walking down the street, giving everyone I pass the finger guns.

Groan.

Wallflower laughed. She swore she could hear that groan. She pressed her pen tip onto the page, and the glow of Sunset’s dot joined hers. They held dots for a minute before Sunset wrote again.

It was really nice, seeing all the girls just so happy together, like old times.

Of course. We’re all just back to living our lives as we always did for now. What else is there to do?

Wallflower decided not to mention the pall of sadness Applejack seemed to inhabit these days, as much as she tried to hide it. Out of the seven of them, she had always been the most attached to the idea of starting a family.

How about over there? What are your new friends in Ponyville like? They’re mostly Starlight’s friends, right?

That’s right! Her girlfriend Maud, and Trixie. It’s funny, they’re really turning out to be a lot like the ones we knew, except older.

What, one likes rocks and the other likes magic?

Oh, you have no idea! I’m so glad I learned how to be friends with the human Trixie first, because this one is exactly like her.

Wallflower smiled at that.

I’m glad that you’re making friends over there, too. You’re really settling in.

Wallflower looked at her own words and couldn’t help but feel a bit of self-betrayal. She wondered if Sunset felt the same about her reply.

What else is there to do?

Sunset’s dot glowed on the page, and Wallflower joined hers to it.

3. Anniversary

Wallflower barely registered Sunset’s words in her journal as she thought about the dream again.

That stupid plastic plant by her bedside, so vivid and garishly green in her mind’s eye. That feeling of dread. That awful, familiar dread of not knowing what to say, and hating herself for it, except so much worse. Then the blurred sight of scuffed tile floor as she stumbled out of the hospice room, barely placing one foot in front of the other, until she collapsed into that blur of wonderful orange and red that was outside waiting for her. Waiting to hold her, to softly caress her neck as she sobbed, to be strong and silent and warm.

Did she miss that warmth? Is that why she had been having it so much again lately? Or maybe it was because it was the anniversary. Third anniversary of that memory. First anniversary of the last time she would ever feel that warmth again.

She wanted to talk about it with the Sunset that was in front of her, but she couldn’t. Not while Sunset was avoiding talking about things by pretending everything was fine.

Wallflower sighed. Was this the right time to bring it up? But if she never did, it never would be. She wrote in the next blank line, despite Sunset still writing hers above.

Sunset. Rarity told me about Maud.

Sunset’s writing stopped in its tracks as she absorbed Wallflower’s interjection. She continued on the line below.

She did?

Yes. She heard it from Twilight, and she thought I’d already heard it from you. I had to pretend I knew what she was talking about. You know how bad I am at that! Were you just not going to tell me that she’s sick at all? What would have happened if I asked about how Maud was doing a year from now?

It’s just so horrible. How could I tell you? How could I add any more awful news to your life?

Wallflower sighed.

Sunset, this isn’t about me. Maud and Starlight are your friends, not mine. Starlight’s been your friend for years. You have to be affected by this. You have to be hurting.

How can I say that I’m hurting? I’m not the one it’s happening to.

But you are, Sunset. You’re hurting, too, because you care about the people you love. Just because your world isn’t dying doesn’t mean the awful things that happen there aren’t awful anymore. I want to hear about it, Sunset. I don’t want you to hide it from me.

I just don’t know how to tell you this kind of thing when I’m the one who abandoned you all in a dying universe.

You didn’t abandon us. You gave us time.

Time I stole from you.

A memory lit up in Wallflower as she remembered the last time she had to respond to her saying that. It had been a year. She felt funny for missing it.

You know that’s not how it worked. You know what they told us. We were getting closer to destruction with every baby that was being born. We were always doomed. We just didn’t know it.

I know.

Same as it ever was.

I’m just so used to there being a solution. An artifact I can steal, or a portal to another dimension I can jump into. But there isn’t this time, and all I can do is sit here helplessly and watch it all happen. Doing nothing. And I can’t stand it.

But you’re not going to do nothing, Sunset. You’ll be there for Starlight and Maud, and not only them but all of their friends. And you’ll be here with me and all of our friends, through the many, many years we have left. And I want you to be in our lives, Sunset. Good, bad, all of it. That’s what it means to still be here.

There was a pause before Sunset replied.

Okay. I’ll still be here.

Another pause.

It’s just so hard for me to think about them. It’s bad enough knowing I’m going to lose Maud, but it’s so much worse that when I see her and Starlight, I can’t help but think about how that’s going to be us later. I’m going to watch Starlight be destroyed and I know that will be me.

Wallflower thought about that stupid fake plant.

But you’ll be able to watch her put herself back together again, with the love and support of you and all of her friends. It’ll be just so awful, but she’ll find a way to go on. People always do.

She imagined Sunset at that point. Would the years of built-up dread make that point harder?

You’re right. And I shouldn’t even be talking about Maud like she’s already gone. I should focus on our time with her while she’s still here, instead of what comes after.

Exactly. Same for us, you know? We have a lot of time.

She looked at the notification on her phone that counted down the time, which most people kept hidden by default. Occasionally, a day or two would get added to the count, but not very often.

It’s going to be a long time from now. Who knows where we’ll even be then?

What do you mean?

Nineteen years is a long time, Sunset. I’m just being realistic. How long can we go on like this?

The words sat heavy and silent on the page. Sunset replied.

Even if we’re not together like that, you know I’ll still care a lot about you, right? And all of our friends, and everyone I’ve ever met in my life over there? No matter what, to me, it’s going to be the worst thing that has ever happened.

Wallflower smiled sadly. She was right. She would hurt no matter what.

I know. I’m still here.

She held her pen on the dot. An orange glow joined hers. She closed her eyes for a moment, to imagine its warmth.

When she opened them again, she saw that both glows were gone, despite her still firmly holding down her pen. Frowning, she turned the page to the next blank one and drew one line, then another, then another, pushing harder with the pen each time until she was almost tearing the paper. No glow. Nothing. Her dread built as nothing she tried could bring the glow back or make anything new appear that she did not write herself. Not different pens, not writing on previous pages, nothing. As far as she could tell, the book in her hands was now nothing more than a bundle of dead paper.

Not knowing what else to do, she screamed.

4. Foundation

Wallflower always felt a sense of dread coming back to this place, even though it was for something so important. At the very least, she could be thankful that the main entrance was now at what used to be the back of the school. The old main entrance, and the statue standing in the middle of it, was now the most well-guarded place on Earth, and she wouldn’t have been able to access it if she tried.

Not that she ever would have wanted to see that place again.

She suppressed those thoughts as she approached the pair of guards stationed on either side of the building entrance. Both men were wearing identical blue-crested helmets, identical uniforms, identical stern expressions. They could have been clones, which Wallflower supposed was what they were going for. They were not individuals. They were the organization represented by the three-letter acronym emblazoned proudly on their chests. The one everyone just called “the Foundation”.

Wallflower offered up her visitor pass to be scanned. Which seemed a bit ridiculous, considering she’d had an escort leading her ever since being let in at the perimeter. The man on the right spoke.

“Wallflower Blush.” It wasn’t a question. “The Director is ready for you.”

That surprised her a bit. She knew it wouldn’t be Twilight greeting her beyond the entrance as usual, since she was on compassionate leave, but she’d expected Micro Chips or some other junior researcher. Or even Twilight herself, though that would have made her feel even more guilty than she already did for having called her in a panic two days ago. Her escort led her down a sequence of hallways that still felt eerily familiar, despite all the changes. She could recognize the blank spots where lockers or vending machines had once been installed. And she could recognize the old frame of the door to the Principal’s office, despite said door now looking very imposingly fortified.

Another guard was stationed at the door, which opened up automatically beside him. Her escort nodded wordlessly to her, and Wallflower went halfway through before doing a double-take as she recognized the guard. Though she was looking at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, Flash Sentry betrayed no sign of recognizing her in turn. She shook her head to clear it and continued inside, the door closing automatically behind her.

She recognized the desk, which was something not many people on Earth could say. Though none of them would have any trouble recognizing woman standing behind it. The most famous face on the planet. That most famous voice, which in its calm and measured tones told the entire world that it was going to die. The woman who she had known for years as Principal Celestia, but now knew, as did everybody else, as the Director of the National Science Foundation.

The most powerful woman on Earth greeted her with an apologetic smile. “Wallflower Blush. I am so sorry for making you worry. We should have warned you that your journal’s connection might have been interrupted when we ran our phase shift experiment.” She picked up the journal from her desk and offered it to her. “It should be all fixed now.“

Wallflower gratefully took the journal from her, cradling it in her arms. “Th-thank you,” she stammered, not knowing what else to say. She continued to stand there, hugging the book to her chest, as Celestia’s smile turned into a frown. “Wallflower,” she said with concern, “you can talk to her in front of me, you know.”

Shaking, her eyes brimming with tears, she opened the book to the now-blank first page and put pen to paper, feeling so much relief at seeing the letters glow green as she wrote.

Sunset!

Wally!

She almost dropped the book as she brought a hand up to her mouth to cover a relieved sob.

It’s okay! I’m here now.

A dot of orange glowed beneath it, and Wallflower struggled to hold her trembling pen steady against the page as she held the book open with her other hand.

“Please.” Wallflower looked up to see the blurred image of Celestia gesturing to the front of her desk. “Sit.”

Wallflower collapsed into the chair, able to hunch over the open journal now that it was flat on the desk.

I was so scared. I thought I lost you.

I was scared, too. Is everything all right?

Celestia said so. Everything should be fine.

I’m so, so glad! I don’t know what I would’ve done. I love you so much, Wally.

A happy sob escaped Wallflower as a smile broke across her face.

I love you, too.

I’ll be here until you get home.

They held dots, Wallflower’s hand now steady. She looked up at Principal Celestia, who had been sitting right in front of her the whole time.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t know what I’d do if I lost her.” Being reminded of the thought of it made her uneasy again, and she looked back down at Sunset’s dot to calm herself. Celestia spoke.

“Human intuition is an odd thing, isn’t it?”

Wallflower looked up, confused.

“It wasn’t a choice at all. What could one life— two lives matter, balanced against an entire world? But seeing what it cost in front of me is difficult. I am so sorry, Wallflower. If there had been any other way…”

“I—I understand. We both do.” Wallflower looked back down at the glow of Sunset’s dot. “I’m grateful for this. I always have been. I just didn’t know how much until I—until I thought I lost—”

“Grateful.” Celestia looked at her with a frown. “That makes sense. You must feel so powerless here. Like this is something that could be taken away from you at any time.”

She’d never thought of it that way before, but realized it was true. Wallflower nodded, noticing her own trembling.

“That is our fault. We keep so much from you.” Celestia smiled at her gently. “Please, have my word that it won’t be. The link between the journals draws on the ambient magic remaining in our universe. If it stops working, our universe will as well, not long after.”

Wallflower didn’t say anything, and cast her eyes down at Sunset’s dot.

“Wallflower.” Wallflower looked up at her. “I really am sorry, you know. That we had to keep so much from all of you. That we had to make decisions that impacted your lives so much.“

She recognized that tone of voice. The voice of someone who was staying strong against the overwhelming burdens on her. She’d heard it before. She looked at Celestia’s face and somehow saw for the first time the fatigue and quiet despair in her eyes. Were they always there? Or had she not seen them because she had been seeing Celestia as something more than human?

Yes, that is how she had been seeing her. How could she otherwise? How could she think of her as a flawed, mortal being making decisions with imperfect knowledge? How could she think that of the one who told her that she would never look into the blue of Sunset’s eyes again, never hear the comforting brass of her voice, never feel the softness of her hand?

When Celestia spoke, it was the flawed being speaking. “And not just your lives. Everyone’s. Did you know that we considered not telling the world that it was going to end at all?”

Wallflower could tell. She wasn’t talking to her. Not really.

“There was a moral argument for it, you see. When the end comes, it will be too fast to feel any pain or dread, too fast to notice. So why not let everyone live their lives as they always had, ignorant of it all? They would never know. They would just be here one moment, and gone the next. Wouldn’t it have been wonderful, to spare them the anguish? The dread?”

Celestia’s stared off into space for a few moments, before turning to fix Wallflower with her gaze.

“We could have done it, you know. Covered up even the stars going out one by one. A moratorium on professional astronomy, secret satellite networks. Those are the resources at our disposal. That is what they entrusted me with to deal with all of this. That is what is within my power. Can you imagine?“

There was a pleading in her voice that made Wallflower feel uneasy. It did not seem right.

“The only reason we told the world was because it wouldn’t have been enough. Nothing we could do would have been enough to keep them from panicking, from despairing, from knowing that everything was coming to an end.”

Tears welled up in Celestia’s eyes.

“We had no other choice. We couldn’t let the children keep being born.”

5. Niagara

Author's Note

The world of Equestria Girls in this story is very much not supposed to be ours.

5. Niagara

Wallflower crouched on the ground as she crept towards the edge. She felt silly doing it. Looking around her, she could see plenty of her fellow tourists just standing next to, or even leaning against the waist-high guardrails so they could get a better look. But gripping the journal to her side, she wasn’t taking any chances. She carefully set it down onto the ground, opened it, then pinned down its right-hand page with a knee for good measure.

She then took the instant camera Twilight gave her out of her bag, and looked at the scene through the viewfinder. An endless cascade of crisp, blue water extending all the way across and beyond the limits of her view, the white mists below like a cloud that had been brought to earth. She pressed the button, and a special sheet printed itself out of the machine with a whine. Pinching a corner with her fingers, she carefully slid out the photo from its place and pressed it down firmly onto the journal’s left-hand page. Peeling it back, she could see the image reveal itself. The journal glowed.

Seconds later, the right-hand page glowed underneath her knee. Putting the camera away, she sat back and lifted the journal with both hands to get a better look. It was a sight very similar to the horseshoe of waterfalls that was in front of her, except that there were two more layers of equally impressive waterfalls stacked above it and stretching above the limits of the photo. Not to mention the perfect picturesque clouds just hanging in the air and the brilliantly vibrant rainbows between them.

A dim glow appeared on the right-hand page, and Wallflower turned it to see Sunset’s message.

It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?

Wallflower poised her pen to write a quick “It is!”, but couldn’t bring herself to. She instead considered the scene in front of her. It looked just like the photographs she had seen on her phone before leaving out on this trip. Just like them. She tried to see the majesty of it. Tried to see something beyond just a lot of water falling in one particular spot on the Earth. She couldn’t.

I don’t know.

Wallflower looked at what she wrote and frowned in regret. She should have just written that reply.

Is there something on your mind?

There is, but nothing you haven’t heard before.

I want to hear it.

Wallflower sighed, feeling stupid. She got up from the ground and walked back from the edge to sit down on an open bench, laying the journal flat across her thighs.

I was thinking about the story you told me about where the name “Neighagra” comes from. So when I was at the visitor’s center I asked them about where “Niagara” came from. And you know what they said?

What did they say?

They didn’t know! They were confused why anyone would even ask. Isn’t that weird?

Names are weird sometimes, Wally. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

I know, but it’s not the only thing like that. Its like our world doesn’t have a history.

Wally, I know it’s been a few years at this point, but I remember taking History at Canterlot High.

I know! I sat right behind you in that class all sophomore year. Remember?

No, I don’t… You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?

Wallflower smiled. She could never resist that.

Nope! But I mean, I barely remember that class, and not just because I was trying not to stare at you the whole time. It was because it was just a list things that happened in the past that don’t affect us in any way. It’s not like history in your world.

What do you mean?

Things used to be so different in your past. Ponies used to be enemies with the other species like dragons and changelings. Ponies even used to be divided among themselves, with the tribes not trusting each other.

Those weren’t exactly good things, Wally.

Exactly! It’s why you have those Hearth’s Warming Eve tales, so all of you can learn why that’s wrong. It’s something that hangs over you. It’s uncomfortable. But humans don’t have anything like that. We don’t know where our names come from. There’s no “Old English” like there is an “Old Ponish”. We don’t even have any buildings more than a century old.

She turned the page back to gaze at Sunset’s photograph again. At how it looked so much more colorful and vibrant.

It’s so obvious when you think about it that it’s weird. It’s like we’re a shallow copy of your world. It’s even in some of our names. I mean, “Manhattan”? That’s just a human pun on “Manehattan”, right?

Wally, just because your world was created from our magic doesn’t mean it’s a shallow copy. It’s where I became who I am. Where I met our friends, where I met you. It never felt any less real or meaningful to me.

She looked back on the previous two lines. It all seemed so familiar, because it was. She looked up and around at the tourists passing by her, all smiles and selfies and excited conversation. She looked out at Niagara Falls again for a moment, before looking back down at the journal.

I’m sorry I’m like this, Sunset

What do you mean?

I’m supposed to be sharing this experience with you, but instead I’m sitting here, rambling so that I don’t have to admit that all I see is just a bunch of falling water. And instead of letting you enjoy it I’m just dragging you down.

You’re not dragging me down. You just want to talk to me more than marvel at a one-of-a-kind natural wonder. I should be flattered.

Wallflower smiled. She really did see the best in her.

You just see the world differently from most people. That’s one of the many things I love about you.

She fought the urge to doubt. To wonder how she could have possibly trapped this piece of the sun in her orbit. Shouldn’t she be past this by now? From having to ask?

It’s been five years, Sunset. It’s just going to keep being like this. Are you sure it’s enough?

Wallflower stared at the page until an orange dot appeared. It didn’t move. She pressed her pen to it. They held dots.

Wallflower closed her eyes and imagined pony Sunset in the other world, pressing her pen down on the same spot on her journal. She imagined the same sounds of the rushing water and the chattering tourists in her ears as well. She imagined that she was convincing herself, too, that it was enough.

She opened her eyes to see Sunset’s dot still on hers, though shaking a bit. Wallflower got the hint and lifted her pen. Sunset began to write.

I love you. This is enough, because you are enough. Reading your words is always the best part of my day. And no matter how many times I need to tell you that, I will. I will never get tired of it.

She fought the urge to apologize. Instead, she just wrote:

I love you, Sunset.

For good measure, she drew a heart around her name. An overlapping heart glowed in orange right after. She looked at them and smiled. She then looked back up out at the world around her, and sighed.

I think I just have to admit it, Sunset. I don’t like traveling.

It’s okay! You tried for me, and that means a lot.

Wallflower smiled. Sunset continued.

Besides, that’s the nice thing about us, isn’t it? I can do the traveling for the both of us. You can just stay home, as long as you look at the pictures I send and pretend they’re amazing. Deal?

Wallflower laughed.

Deal.

6. Codec

Wallflower noticed that the guard scanning her visitor’s pass was a woman this time. It had been something she had noticed more lately, that the pairs of Foundation guards were now usually a man and a woman. Not that it made any difference. It just made the same identical guard come in two flavors.

As usual, Twilight was behind the entrance doors, and greeted her with a wave and a smile. They hugged.

Twilight spoke when they broke the hug. “We’re still getting things ready for you. But in the meantime, I wanted to show you what I was working on!”

“Uh, sure!” Wallflower agreed, trying to not let the anxiety show in her voice. It had been three days, when they normally only took one to refresh the pages of the journal. Twilight led her to her office, which Wallflower recognized as one half of a converted classroom, complete with an equation-covered chalkboard on the wall that she could swear was left over from the building’s high school days. There was a messy computer desk covered in a sprawl of papers, and a clean work table with some sort of device sitting on it. Twilight walked over to the work table, and motioned for Wallflower to join her.

“What is this, Twilight?” Wallflower asked as she approached the table to get a better look at the device. It was a rectangle of glass and plastic, sitting on a metal bracket suspending it above a book that was spread open on the table. She blinked at the familiar shape before realizing that it was not Sunset’s journal, but rather Twilight’s.

“Here!” Wallflower looked up to see Twilight handing her a pair of shaded goggles, identical to the pair she was now wearing. Wallflower got the hint and put them on. Twilight clicked a button, and the lights in the room went off, leaving the lamp above the work table the only source of illumination.

“Now, watch the paper!”

She did so, and Twilight clicked another button. A red laser flashed for a split-second from the device down onto a spot on the sheet, which darkened to black for about half a second before returning to its original color.

“Laser-activated pigment microcapsules! It’s very similar in principle to e-ink, except that we can impregnate actual, cellulose paper with it. And we can do a lot more than just that one pixel you saw. Here, check this out!”

Twilight clicked another button, and instead of one laser flashing, it was hundreds, darkening and lightening spots on the page underneath in a random pattern, reminding Wallflower of television static. Then, the pattern became far less random, resolving itself as a silhouette of a galloping horse and rider, blinking through its twelve frames of animation.

“Isn’t that neat?”

“Yeah!” Wallflower agreed, trying to figure out what the point of it was. “It’s very pretty.”

The lights in the room went back on, and Wallflower removed her goggles when she saw Twilight doing the same. Twilight smiled at her, eyes bright behind her thick, square glasses.

“So that got sent to the other Twilight’s journal just now?”

“Exactly!” Twilight beamed.

“Oh! That’s neat! So, uh, you can send animated pictures to Equestria? Like, black-and-white ones, I guess?”

“So much more than that!” Twilight took her phone out of her coat pocket. “Everything that’s transmitted over the internet is just a stream of ones and zeros. A lot of them. For Wi-Fi, that’s a radio wave that shifts between frequencies, billions of times a second! But ones and zeros can be anything, you just need two separate states. Like a pixel being black or white.”

Wallflower blinked. “So you can get an internet connection to Equestria?” Her heart began to beat faster. An internet connection meant…

“Not exactly! They don’t have computers over there.” Of course. Wallflower frowned, feeling silly. Twilight continued.

“And it’s not just not having computers! Even the concept of digitization was foreign to them, much less the implementation! Ha, and no wonder, too. Digitization!” Twilight held her hands in front of her face, wiggling her fingers, then laughed again. Wallflower just looked at her, confused. “Never mind!” Twilight said. “Point is, I had a lot of work to do over these past few years to get them up to speed.”

“Up to speed?”

“Yeah! There’s just so much to be done! Standardization of measurements and instruments. Building an industrial base.” She put a hand on her journal. “The other Twilight has been very receptive to my ideas.” She laughed to herself. “Well, duh! She is me, after all!”

Twilight smiled at Wallflower apologetically, realizing that she had gotten herself sidetracked.

“Of course, we’re still years away from setting up something that’s anything close to a modern computer on their end. But there was something we could get them to figure out. They have phonographs. With that analogy, they could design the right spells to play what we send them. And send recordings back.“ Wallflower’s heart began pounding again as Twilight smiled at her. “You can hear her voice again.”

How long had it been? Six years now. Six years of living with the fact that she would never again hear that voice saying anything that she hadn’t heard from a recording she had already played a thousand times.

“When will it be ready?” was all she could manage.

Twilight beamed as she opened a desk drawer. “It already is! What I showed you was the proof-of-concept. This is the working model. It even has Bluetooth!”

She pulled out Sunset’s journal and showed it to Wallflower, who saw that its back cover had been replaced by a sleeker-looking version of the rectangle of glass and plastic she had seen earlier. Twilight then took something out of her coat pocket and handed it to her. She recognized it as her phone only after she took it and let it sit heavy in her palm.

“It’s why security took so long! Had to give me enough time to get the surprise ready. Had to jailbreak your phone too, so I could sideload the app we wrote. Sorry about that!”

Wallflower was hardly listening. All she could focus on was what was flashing on the screen, and how absurdly mundane it looked for all that it represented.

Call incoming: Sunset Shimmer.

Wallflower accepted the call and brought her phone to her ear, more muscle memory than anything. Time seemed to slow down. Her mind raced to steel herself. To lower her expectations. To make sure that whatever came over the phone next would not leave her a sobbing mess in the middle of Twilight’s office. It was all for nothing.

“Wally? Can you hear me?”

7. Shop

Wallflower smiled as she drew on the photograph. A heart around Sunset’s beaming face, marking her from the row of her fellow teachers at the School of Friendship, with their smiling students arranged in rows underneath.

“Seriously?” Sunset’s voice scolded her through her phone speaker. “I sent that picture so you could see what the students I’ve been talking about look like, not draw on it!”

Wallflower laughed, and focused her gaze on the tiny image of Sunset.

“I just can’t help it. Your eyes are so beautiful. I have to express how they make me feel.“

Sunset groaned. “If you’re going to be like that, turn on your phone.”

Wallflower did, and Sunset’s smiling face appeared on the screen, familiar eyes bright and wide. She lost herself in their sky-blue.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this on my lunch break,” Sunset muttered.

“What, look into a phone?”

“Oh, this thing is so much more awkward to use than a phone! It’s more like a film camera strapped to a mirror. If I weren’t a unicorn I don’t know what I’d do.”

Wallflower laughed. Just then, a chime from the front door interrupted her.

“Oh, that’s a customer! I’ll be right back. Love you!“

“Love you, too!” came the reply, and Wallflower ended the call. She took a moment to feel the power of those words, then made her way to the storefront to greet her guest.

She could instantly tell that she was not one of her regulars from the way she was still standing by the entrance, marveling at the living floral arrangements all around her. Wallflower smiled at that, always glad for her work to leave an impression. Her smile widened as she turned around, and Wallflower was able to recognize her, as if that mess of merlot hair wasn’t enough.

“Ms. Cheerilee!” Wallflower cried out.

“Wallflower Blush!” Her old teacher turned to her and beamed. “And just ‘Cheerilee’ is fine. Canterlot High was a long time ago for you now!”

It was odd to realize that she was older than Cheerilee had been when she was her teacher.

“How have you been doing? How is your—” Wallflower then realized why Cheerilee was there on a late morning on a September weekday. Her old teacher gave her a sad smile.

“Oh, you know. Still getting used to my early retirement. I figured that, hey, why not travel? Track down all my old students and see how they turned out in person, even if just for a little while? Plant shop, it makes sense! President of the Gardening Club, right?“

“That’s right,” Wallflower confirmed.

“It’s really lovely.” She had another look around the quiet store. “You must be proud of what you’ve built here.”

“I am. It’s a nice, quiet little life.”

“I’m glad.” Cheerilee smiled softly at her, and she smiled softly in return. Silence stretched on for a couple of beats before Wallflower said something to fill it.

“So, what was teaching like after Canterlot?” She realized with a bit of guilt that she had never even thought of what happened to the students and teachers after it was shut down.

“Oh, it was wonderful! A lot quieter than what was going on with all your classmates!” Wallflower smiled at that. “But towards the end, keeping those kids in school to prepare them for an adulthood they’d never really get to have… It was almost a relief, to let them go.“

Cheerilee kept smiling, but Wallflower could see how she was forcing it, a bit. She wished she knew what else to say. But then, a thought came to her.

“Do you want to talk to Sunset?

Cheerilee’s face brightened. “I would! I couldn’t find her anywhere! I swear, she dropped off the face of the Earth…”

Ducking into the back room, Wallflower grabbed the journal and her phone, and called Sunset, who answered as she stepped back out.

“Hey, babe! Done already?”

“Hey, love! Not exactly.” She smiled at Cheerilee. “Customer’s someone you might remember.”

She handed the phone to Cheerilee.

“Sunset? Is that you?”

Sunset recognized her right away. “Ms. Cheerilee! Oh wow, it’s been so long!“

“Fifteen years!” Cheerilee marveled. “And I still remember your first day in my classroom.”

“I really was a handful back then, wasn’t I?” Sunset groaned.

“You really were! And as a teacher, while I didn’t approve of how you took over the school’s social scene, it was still a very impressive thing to see.”

Sunset laughed.

“I’m sorry for being so awful then.”

“You were young, Sunset! And it was wonderful to watch you grow up before my very eyes. You were already so kind and empathetic, by the end. I can’t imagine how amazing the woman you’ve become must be.”

There was a trace of irony in Sunset’s laugh. “Thanks, Ms. Cheerilee. If I have, it was thanks to you.“

“Oh, that’s being too kind! I was only your high school teacher.”

“No, really! Because I’m a teacher, too, now!”

“Really?” There was surprise and confusion in Cheerilee’s voice.

“Yes! And the students we get really are from all over, from all kinds of species. There’s so much I can’t assume about what they already know, or how they do things. But whenever that gets hard I just think of how when I first came to Canterlot, you had to show me how to use a computer and phone and so many other things. You were so patient with me, “

“That’s so sweet to hear!” Cheerilee cooed. The confusion on her face grew as she digested all this. She frowned. “You’re not on Earth, are you?”

“No. I’m not.”

Wallflower opened up the journal to show Cheerilee the photo of Sunset surrounded by her students. She looked at it, puzzled, until her eyes lit up on the face of pony Sunset encircled by a heart.

“That’s…” She looked up at Wallflower, who just smiled and nodded. She looked back down and ran her finger across the faces of the students in the photo.

“And this is a world where there are still schools. And these are your students…”

Wallflower’s heart broke as she saw Cheerilee smile through tear-filled eyes.

“Do you want me to tell you about them?”

“Yes!” Cheerilee cried. “I would!”

And so she did. Cheerilee mostly listened at first, then began to speak more, as Sunset’s stories reminded her of student stories of her own. From there the conversation wound through memories of Sunset’s time at Canterlot High. Just as she had watched those events from the background then, Wallflower was content to just stand behind the counter in silence, smiling, happy they were sharing this moment together. She could have stood forever, listening to the two of them reminisce. But everything eventually ends.

“—and I’m sorry again!” Sunset apologized. “But I really have to get ready for my afternoon class. This was really nice!”

“It really was!” Cheerilee chirped. ”Thank you for this.” She looked at Wallflower and smiled. “To both of you.”

When Wallflower took back her phone, Cheerilee grabbed her hand lightly. She looked into her eyes.

“Thank you so much, Wallflower. Really. Just knowing there’s still a place where things are going on, I—” Cheerilee tamped her eyes closed for a second, then blinked. “I didn’t know how much I needed it.“

Wallflower just touched the shard around her neck, and wondered just how quickly the details of what Cheerilee saw today would fade from her mind without any more exposure to low-level Equestrian magic, just as she doubtlessly no longer remembered her students turning into monsters or growing tails. That Sunset was a pony now? That this other world that would go on existed at all?

Seeing the peace in her eyes, she figured what she would remember would be what mattered.

8. Farm

Wallflower heard Sunset’s coos through the speaker as she watched the mother cow bathe her calf with her tongue. It truly was an adorable sight, but she could not help but glance down and tug awkwardly at the sleeve of her leather jacket. She heard Sunset chuckle.

“It’s funny, isn’t it? When I found out what leather was in your world, I thought I was so cool for wearing it. Like I didn’t care that cows were people where I came from.”

“You were cool!” Wallflower smiled, remembering how intimidating she had been back then. “Everyone was afraid of you.”

“That wasn’t something to be proud of.” Sunset laughed. “I still can’t believe you had a crush on the me I was then.”

“Was it really a crush? I was just jealous of everything about you and got way more upset when you didn’t remember who I was than when anyone else did it.”

Sunset groaned, and Wallflower laughed. She squeezed the glove on her left hand, and the glove squeezed back, transmitting Sunset’s action on the pad of her hoof. They continued to hold hand and hoof in the idyllic meadow, Wallflower wishing she could send the smell of the fresh-cut grass along with the bucolic sight and the tranquil silence, interrupted only by the licking of the mother cow, and the sound of approaching footsteps and hoofsteps. She turned to see Fluttershy coming towards her, with a three-legged goat by her side.

“He likes you!” Fluttershy said as the goat ran ahead to Wallflower. She crouched down to stroke its head, as it rubbed a cheek against her leg in appreciation.

“So, what do you think of the sanctuary so far?”

“It’s really beautiful!” Sunset spoke. “It’s amazing what you’ve done with the place.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe what it took to get it done! The architects and designers all had their own ideas. I had to really put my foot down!” Wallflower smiled as she kept petting the goat. She could really imagine it. Fluttershy continued. “But it was hard for me. For some of them, it was the last thing they would ever build. It made sense that they would want to put their own stamp on it.”

“Ah.” A tinge of sadness in Sunset’s voice. “The winding down is starting?”

“It is.” Fluttershy said matter-of-factly. “I know I’m lucky. I won’t have to reinvent myself for these last few years. I’ll have everything I need right here.”

A silence hung in the air. Wallflower didn’t want it to last. She spoke.

“You had a goat in your class last year, didn’t you Sunset?”

Sunset snapped to, her voice brightening a bit. “Yeah, I did! He always had an excuse for not getting his assignments in. One time, it was because he ate his own homework. Can you believe it?”

Fluttershy giggled. “Oh, this little one would never do anything like that. He is just too precious and innocent.“

“Yes, he is,” Sunset agreed. Wallflower smiled. She looked up at Fluttershy.

“Do you ever miss it? Hearing what they’re thinking?”

“Oh.” Fluttershy suddenly seemed anxious, and touched the geode around her neck. “Actually, I don’t think that’s how my power really worked. I think it really was giving the animals around me the ability to have thoughts more complex than instinct.”

“Really?” Wallflower kept petting the goat, and looked into its bizarre eyes. There was no sign of intelligence in them.

“Yes, and actually…” Fluttershy averted her gaze. “I think it’s a lot better that way.”

Wallflower’s smile faded to concern. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Fluttershy looked down at the goat and smiled. “We give the rescued critters here the best lives they can have. But out there…” Wallflower followed her gaze to the fence at the edge of the sanctuary, and the wilderness beyond it. “Animals live awful lives and die cruel deaths. Starvation, getting sick with parasites, dying slowly from injuries. Even from the weather. You don’t want to know how many cute little bunnies freeze to death in the winters around here. I wish I didn’t.“

Fluttershy crouched down, and the goat turned to her happily as she began to scratch its chest.

“And that’s not even counting getting killed horribly by predators. Could you imagine being a pregnant deer, and watching helplessly as your baby gets torn out of you by wolves and chomped to bits? That deer already suffers so horribly for it. Could you imagine how much worse it would be if she could think like us?“

The goat rubbed up against Fluttershy happily as she moved on to its forelegs.

“No, it’s much better this way. That all they need to be happy is food, water, shelter, and little friends to play with. That they don’t live with dread at the fact that it’s all going to end one day. That they’re not like us. They don’t know the day or the hour.“

Wallflower felt her glove squeeze around her hand, and she squeezed back. She felt Sunset trace a heart on her palm.

Fluttershy then held up her forearm in front of herself and gazed at it wistfully. Wallflower was confused for a moment until she heard Sunset gasp, and then remembered why Fluttershy had only worn long sleeves for years. They had faded a bit after more than a decade, but the dog bite scars were still noticeable if you looked.

“And they don’t have to dread what they’ve already lost.”

9. Garden

Wallflower sighed as she took in the sorry state of Sunset’s flower bed through the screen in her lenses.

“I swear, I’m doing everything just like you’re telling me, babe,” Sunset insisted as she considered a sad, sparse-looking cluster of purple blossoms in her aura. “I just don’t know what went wrong.”

Wallflower’s lenses went clear, and she saw her own flower bed, with its beautiful, well-maintained clusters in full bloom. She picked up her watering can and began moistening the soil, imagining Sunset watching her through the camera.

“These are supposed to be easy to grow. I swear, Sunset, you have the opposite of a green thumb.”

“I don’t have any thumbs, you know that! And you get two, that’s just not fair.”

Wallflower smiled at the well-worn joke.

“Well, there’s always next spring.”

Wallflower regretted the words as soon as she said them. They hung in the air like a noxious cloud, suffocating the space between them. She put down her watering can.

“You know. Pinkie still doesn’t believe it’s going to happen.“

“She still thinks that?” Sunset’s voice was unsure. “She thinks Celestia and Twilight and everyone are wrong?”

“Oh, it’s a bit different than that.” Wallflower picked up her pruning shears, intending to start clipping off the spent blooms at the bottom of the plant. “She explained it to us the last time we all met. If she thought she was going to die, it wouldn’t change the way she lives now or what she cares about, except that she’ll dread that the end was coming. But if she believes that she’ll live, she’ll never get a chance to find out if she’s wrong, or regret it after. So why not believe that she’ll live forever?”

“It’s hard to just make yourself believe something like that.”

“That’s what we said, but she just got confused, then tried to explain herself again. She seemed sad that it was so hard for us to understand.“

Sunset laughed. “That’s Pinkie being Pinkie for you.”

“Yeah!”

Wallflower noticed she was still holding up the shears, and put them back down. She frowned.

“But it is going to happen, you know.”

A long silence. Then, in a quiet voice.

“I know.”

She took the shard of the Memory Stone around her neck in her hand, and held it in front of her so Sunset could see.

“I thought about it, you know. I really did.”

“I know.”

She had told her all of this before. She was going to tell it again. She closed her palm around the shard, feeling the edges press against her skin.

“I never told them how strong it still was, before they closed the portal. I could have pulled out every memory you had of me, of this whole world, right before you left it forever. I really thought about doing it. Isn’t that awful? Like I never really changed at all.“

“But you did change, Wally, because you didn’t. And I’m really glad you didn’t. Losing my memory of you, of all my friends… I can’t think of anything more horrible.”

“But you wouldn’t have known any better! Twilight and Starlight would have taken care of you. They would have made sure you had a good life there. You wouldn’t have had to carry the memories and guilt of a dying world. You wouldn’t have to feel the pain of losing it.”

“Wally, like I’ve said before. I’ve had a good life. I don’t regret anything. Not even the pain. It will be worth it.”

The time had gone by so fast, for both of them. The weight of the years bore on her. How little time there was left.

“Will it really?”

“Doesn’t that tell you how much you mean to me? That you’re totally worth the worst pain I’ll ever feel? I love you so much.“

“I love you, too,” Wallflower squeaked. She wiped away the tears in her eyes.

“But you won’t feel the pain alone. Starlight will be there for you.” She smiled weakly. “I’m so glad for that.”

Sunset sighed. “Wally…”

They had had this conversation before, too.

“I just want you to tell me that you’ll be open to it. You’ve been so close for years, and have so much in common.”

She also had lost someone, Wallflower didn’t have to say.

“I can’t think of her as anything more than a friend, you know that.“

“I’m just saying, don’t close yourself off. You’ll have to learn to live after me, Sunset. I want you to.”

Wallflower blinked away another set of tears. Sunset spoke.

“I will. That’s what I hate. I know that I will because I saw it happen to her with Maud. I saw it!”

Sunset took a shaky breath.

“It will be hard at first. It’ll feel like I’m always drowning, that nothing will ever seem bright or happy ever again. But one day I’ll find something that makes me smile, for a little bit. Then another thing, for a little longer. Then another. And the waves will still come and I’ll still sink under them but the space in between will get longer and longer. And I’ll learn how to be happy without you, and you’ll become just a warm memory that I’ll miss so, so much, but can live without. And that’s when you’ll really be gone…”

Wallflower imagined that happening, and could not help but feel a sort of peace. A tranquil smile formed on her lips. She closed her eyes.

“But I will be gone, Sunset. I don’t want to be all that your life was. I want to become that warm memory.”

“I know you do. And I love you for that. But for now, you’re still here. And I don’t want to talk about you like you’re already gone.”

Wallflower opened her eyes again, and saw the plant in front of her. The one that she had been regrowing from cuttings every year ever since she started using this community garden plot. Ever since she first saw them bloom in the first summer she moved in with Sunset.

“Okay, Sunset. I’m still here.”

She picked up her shears and began to cut into the stems of the plant. She had gotten three before Sunset seemed to realize what she was doing.

“You’re taking cuttings for next year?”

“I always do around this time, you know that.” She smiled. “Maybe Pinkie has a point.”

10. Twilight

Wallflower looked up at the darkening evening sky, the very last reds of the already-set sun rapidly dissipating. She remembered back to another night, twenty years ago now, when she was sitting at this very spot. Leaning into Sunset, feeling the cool of her leather jacket, the warmth of her neck on her cheek. Gazing up in wonder as the stars appeared in the new night sky.

There were no stars now. Just a ribbon of pitch black. A reminder that it was the end of days.

She heard footsteps approaching on the path and turned her head. “Don’t need to get up!” Twilight said as she got closer. “I’ll join you.”

“How was it with Sunset?” Wallflower asked, as Twilight sat down next to her.

“It was nice, as far as last goodbyes go.” Twilight smiled as she unslung the bag with her journal and gave it back to her. ”She asked to take her to the statue. I guess she wanted to see where it all began one last time.“

“That makes sense.”

In the spillover of the footpath lights, she could make out the shapes of the three familiar stones surrounding her and Twilight.

“Me too.”

She put a hand on grass and dug in with her fingers, remembering how easily the soil had yielded to her trowel on the day her life changed forever. She lifted her hand to look at her fingertips, stained with dirt.

“I still regret it sometimes. Asking her to leave before I woke up. Leaving me here, asleep, on the grass. But I knew that I wouldn’t be able to take it. Touching her for the last time, knowing that it would be the last.” She looked at Twilight. “I’m glad you and the girls were there for her.”

“Me too.” Wallflower could see the tears forming in Twilight’s eyes, behind her glasses. “It was a hard moment for all of us. It just felt like another hug at the end of one of our adventures, you know? Except that it would be the last one…”

Wallflower gave her a sad smile. “I really should have been there.”

“Wallflower, you can’t blame yourself—”

“I know.”

She took a pill out of her pocket and held it in her hand. The liquid blue, shimmering even in this dim light, reminded her of Sunset’s eyes. She placed it on the ground, and stomped it into the dirt with her shoe.

“I can’t make her go through that again.”

She turned to Twilight.

“But it’s nice that you gave everyone the option.”

“We thought it was important.” Twilight wiped away a tear. “You know, there must be some who have already taken it by now. We guaranteed twenty-four hours. Before it wears off and they wake up, it’ll all be over.”

Wallflower had nothing to say to that. Instead, she looked up at the blank night sky, and Twilight did the same.

“Where will you be?“ Wallflower asked.

“Oh, it’ll just be me and Celestia here, seeing things through to the end! We sent everyone else home, to be with their families. Even the guards.” She chuckled sadly. “It’s funny. In the contingencies, we totally expected a breakdown of order as the date came closer. Riots, mobs, assassinations, mass suicides… We had plans for everything except everyone deciding to just go quietly…”

Wallflower looked at Twilight, who kept gazing into the silent sky for a few seconds before turning to her.

“And you’ll be with Sunset?”

“As long as I can.” She put a hand on her bag to feel the shape of Sunset’s journal through it. “Don’t worry, I remember. The journal will stop working a few seconds before the actual end. Yours will too, right?”

“Yeah. Equestria will have to miss the last few seconds of the Rainbooms’ final performance!” Twilight laughed. “But even if we can’t transmit, the instruments on their side can keep taking measurements of what flows through. Can you imagine? They’ll get to see the last moments of a universe undergoing false vacuum collapse! I’m so jealous!”

Wallflower smiled at her friend’s excitement, glad she got to see that side of her one last time.

“But yeah, all the non-live stuff we have left to send are already queued up. It was really hard for all of us, deciding which books and songs and paintings wouldn’t make the last cut.” She sighed and looked back up, a familiar weight haunting her voice. “But the other Twilight is archiving it all. It’s nice, to think about a bit of our civilization surviving in theirs.”

“That is nice,” Wallflower agreed, looking up also, as if the other world were somewhere out there in the now-silent cosmos. They sat in silence for a while, before Wallflower turned again to her friend, who was still looking away. She spoke to get her attention.

“Twilight.” Twilight turned to her, as Wallflower took both of her hands in hers. Twilight’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Thank you for everything over the years. You gave me her voice. Her eyes. I could never thank you enough for that.“

Twilight blushed, and looked down at the ground.

“I just wish we could have done more. Better haptic feedback. Direct visual cortex stimulation. So many things that are theoretically possible, just out of reach of our engineering…” Twilight sighed. “I just hope what we could do was enough.”

“It was!” Wallflower lied. “I mean, it wasn’t, but really, nothing ever would have been. I would have always wanted more of her. But I think in a way, knowing that somehow made this enough. Really, it was enough even before you gave me her voice and her eyes. Maybe even less. Even if all I had was that dot, just knowing that she was there with me, I think that would have been enough somehow.

She patted the bag with the journal again.

“And even if I didn’t have that, if all I had were my memories of her, well, at the end of it all, I’m grateful for every bit of her I could have.”

She wrapped Twilight up in a hug.

“Thank you for everything. For being my friend. I love you, Twilight.”

“I love you, too, Wallflower.”

They broke the hug and smiled at each other for a bit before getting up from the ground. Twilight spoke.

“You’re heading to Applejack’s?”

“Yeah. It’s getting late. Would hate to sleep in on our last day on Earth.”

“Wait, before you go…”

Twilight looked unsure.

“There’s something that I’m not supposed to tell you.”

11. Sunset

Wallflower felt comfort in the arms of her friends as she hugged them for the last time. The last time she would ever feel the touch of another being like that. She tried not to think of it that way.

One last exchange of looks. Applejack in her familiar hat. Rarity stunning in her stunningly impractical end-of-the-world couture. One last smile. Just the way she would want to remember them, whatever that meant in this case.

Rarity and Applejack turned away and began their very last walk back to the farmhouse. Wallflower just stood there, watching their images shrink, focusing her vision on the sight of their held hands. She felt a sensation in her palm. The feeling that something that should be there but was not. When they were too far away to make out their held hands, she turned around to face the horizon, and talk to Sunset.

One last conversation with Sunset, leaned up with her back against that apple tree, the setting sun blazing orange on the horizon as a backdrop. One last dip into a lifetime of memories. Or half a lifetime, as Ms. Rose had called it all those years ago. One conversation wasn’t enough, even for half a lifetime. But what would be?

Towards the end, just gazing into each other’s eyes through their screens in silence, trying to keep the ticking timer in the corner out of their mind. Until it ticked down, and the bandwidth of the journals narrowed, shutting off the video and sending the last image of those sky-blue eyes into oblivion. One last insult of the winding down. Well, not the very last. One more to go. Two, for Sunset.

Wallflower was grateful for the time synchronization between their two worlds for one last time, knowing that
Sunset was watching the very same setting sun.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Wallflower asked. She held up her arm to compare it to the tattoo on her wrist. The artist had tried their best, but it didn’t quite compare to the real thing.

“It is.” Sunset’s voice was weak. Wallflower hated hearing how far it was from that confident tone she loved. She spoke.

“It’s the second-most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen.”

A laugh, and a groan. Wallflower smiled.

“How long have you been saving that one?”

“Oh, for years now! Ever since they nailed the time down to the hour.“

Sunset laughed again. It was beautiful.

Silence passed. They kept holding dots.

Wallflower could hear Sunset try to calm her own breathing.

“What are you thinking about, Sunset?”

“What else could I be thinking about, Wally? How awful all this is.”

Sunset’s breathing grew more agitated.

“I just can’t bear the thought that this is the last time I’ll say that I love you. That there’ll be a last time.” Sunset sobbed. “And I know, I should be saying something less useless than that right now, but I—“

“It’s okay, Sunset. There’s nothing to say to make this better. And you can’t control how you feel. I’m just glad you are here with me.”

That seemed to calm her down a bit. She could hear her take some deep breaths.

“Me too.”

Another stretch of silence passed. So little time left, yet to Wallflower it felt so much. She was so very bad at goodbyes.

“Sunset. Do you remember what my mother said to me the last time I ever talked with her.“

“I remember,” Sunset said, a bit taken aback. “I know you said she didn’t mean anything, but it was still an awful thing to say.”

“It was how she really felt! And I really think she did just feel guilty. And it wasn’t like I didn’t already know. That apartment was dark and quiet for a long time before you ever even met me, Sunset.“

Wallflower sighed.

“But what I never told you is that I agreed with her. That she was right, and I saw like she did that life wasn’t really worth living, in the end.”

“You did?”

“Yes! The world brought me into it without asking, left me all alone to find what little joys in it I could, and was always going to take it all away in the end. It just seemed so cruel.“

Wallflower could hear the anxiety in Sunset’s voice.

“But that’s changed, right?”

Wallflower paused as she thought of her answer.

“I think that of all the lives that I could have lived, I can’t think of one I’d have wanted more than the one I spent with you. I have no regrets. I love you, Sunset.“

Wallflower smiled, knowing every word of that was true.

“I have no regrets, either. I—”

Sunset interrupted herself with a panicked sob.

“I—”

Another panicked sob. It felt so wrong, hearing her like this. But no wonder. There wasn’t much time left now.

“It’ll be okay, Sunset. It’ll be okay.” Wallflower spoke with a soft voice as Sunset’s sobs continued. She glanced down at her phone. Two minutes left. “There’s something important I need to tell you.”

“T-there is?” Sunset squeaked out.

“Yes.” Wallflower looked back out at the setting sun. “Twilight told me something last night. There’s a chance that Pinkie was right after all, and that when the last of the magic goes, the shift won’t be enough to destroy what’s left of our universe. It’s a small chance, and I won’t tell you how small because I need you to believe that’s what will happen, Sunset. Okay?“

Wallflower looked down at her phone again. Ninety seconds.

“O-Okay.”

“You have to believe, because either way, it’ll look exactly the same to you! Like our universe isn’t there anymore, because the last connection is gone forever. But if this happens, we’ll still be here, just with no magic at all. Twilight said that they could even make the children start being born again. Only they won’t be as colorful as us.” She held her hand out in front of her. “They’ll be peaches and tans and browns. No more blues or greens or yellows. Isn’t that funny?”

An absurd chuckle broke through Sunset’s sobs, to Wallflower’s delight. “That is funny.”

“Can you imagine it, Sunset? I’ll watch the sun go down, and sit here until the very last reds of it disappear into the quiet night. Then I’ll walk to the farmhouse, and have dinner with Applejack and Rarity and their family like it was any other day. Those who have fallen asleep will awake to a world that is still here, and we’ll all go on…”

Twenty seconds.

“Can you imagine it, Sunset?”

“I can. I can imagine it.”

“I need you to tell me, Sunset. I need you to tell me that you’ll believe this, okay? That this is goodbye, and that is so unbearably awful, but I won’t be gone. That there won’t ever be a last time we’ll say that we love each other because every time I remember you I’ll imagine you saying it, and I’ll hear it, and I’ll say it too, and you’ll hear it too, okay? Can you promise me that?”

Ten seconds.

“I promise.”

“Good!” Wallflower laughed. “I’m going to miss you so much, Sunset. I’m going to hate it, too. Watching you become a memory in my mind.”

Five seconds.

“I’m going to miss you so much, Wally. I really am. I really, really am.”

Three seconds.

“I love you, Sunset.”

“I—”

Silence. She looked down at her phone. Connection lost. Twilight had been off by two seconds.

That’s what she got for being so bad at goodbyes. At least Sunset heard her say it. And she heard Sunset promise. That would have to be enough.

Only seconds left now, so why not? She opened up the journal to the front page and wrote. Only ink stained the page. No glow, as far as she could tell.

I’m still here.

She smiled. As far as last things she would ever do in her life, it wasn’t so bad.

But it wasn’t the very last thing.

The very last thing was being overwhelmed by a feeling of joy as underneath her words, the faintest, most imperceptible glow of orange began to trace itself out.

I love you W