Secondhand Laughter

Chapters

1 - Donated
2 - Reused
3 - Recycled

1 - Donated

Secondhand Laughter

Chapter One

Donated

“Hello… You’ve reached the um…the Great and Powerful Trixie. I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now. Please text me with your contact information and a brief message of what you need, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you.”

So she did change it. Pinkie smiled in spite of herself as she made her way up the damp wooden stairs, hanging up the phone and placing it in her jacket pocket along the way. Sure, Trixie was still missing her usual confidence, but the fact that she had taken Pinkie’s advice and was trying to use her old nickname again, awkward as her attempts might be, warmed Pinkie against the chilly autumn wind.

At least temporarily.

As she reached Trixie’s door, the warmth seemed to seep from Pinkie’s body with each steadying breath taken in preparation for the task ahead—the cool air in her lungs a heavy syrup in want of water. There were no illusions as to what she would find on the other side of the door or why she had decided to come over tonight. It had been a bad night after all.

A bad day really. A series of bad days. And Pinkie had been there for them all.

Through phone calls, text messages, and impromptu visits during Trixie’s lunchtime, Pinkie had definitely been kept up to date on Trixie’s mental state. She had known Trixie was not going to pick up the phone before she had begun dialing her number, just as she knew that knocking now would prove to be equally pointless, just as she knew the type of conversation she was likely to have once she stepped through the door.

Pinkie dug into her pocket, pulling out her keyring and selecting a light blue key with a white “T” inscribed on it with some fancy font, one of her most prized possessions. She put it into the lock and then hesitated.

The worst part, Pinkie figured, wasn’t even that Trixie was having such a rough time. That was bad, sure, but… She’d been talking to Trixie for hours about her problems, for days now. She should feel tired, or upset, right?

Instead, Pinkie felt the most “well” she’d felt in a while. Suddenly, she had found herself with someone to help again. Someone who needed her. Someone who relied on her. Every time her phone vibrated, every time it rang, a jolt of sugar coursed through her veins and her heart would find itself drumming to a relentless beat.

And all it took was someone else being unhappy, she thought, trying hard to swallow the guilt at the implication, spitting out over the balcony and into the gentle drizzle when the thoughts became too bitter. No… Don’t be silly, Pinkie. You just get happy that she’s texting you, no matter what the message is. You don’t always know it’s going to be bad. You like it when Caramel messages you too. It’s normal to get excited.

Right?

She threw open the door before she could contradict herself, stepping into the entryway and flipping on the switch. Immediately, the warm air of the apartment brushed the chill off her skin, like dust struck with a feather duster. After closing the door behind herself, she took off her jacket and shoes to make sure she wouldn’t drip as she moved through the room. Not that she needed to have bothered.

As she looked around, she couldn’t help but be shocked at the mess that overtaken Trixie’s apartment. Dishes and empty containers of drinks and food littered everywhere the eye could see. Likewise, clothes were draped over all the furniture and were scattered all over the floor, to the point that any rainwater that did drip off of Pinkie would have more than likely been absorbed by the fabric before ever getting the chance to sink into the carpet flooring.

Pinkie had been to Trixie’s apartment plenty of times, especially recently, and had long since learnt that despite her polished presentation, Trixie was kind of a slob when it came to keeping a home. The food, the clothes, these sights had become common elements of Pinkie’s visits, especially on the various times where Pinkie had come in unannounced to check up on her, much like that night, where it was clear that Trixie would be in desperate need of help she’d be too proud to ask for.

This though… This was something else.

I didn’t even know she owned this many shirts.

Pinkie began walking through the room, silently collecting food containers as she made her way towards the kitchen where the biggest trash can was. By the time she arrived, she was balancing two big armfulls, thankful that Trixie had one of those bins with the pedal-opening tops.

She pressed down the pedal and was about to dump the trash when she noticed something.

Is that cinnamon?

Pinkie dropped the containers into the nearly empty trash can, now three quarters full, a small smile on her lips again. It had been two weeks since the last time she’d spent the night and, as she did every time she visited, she had started by helping clean up then too. She’d made a passing comment, hadn’t she? About how the lemon scented trash bags hurt her nose?

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Trixie had said. “Lemon is the scent of cleanliness, and the stronger it is the cleaner everything smells. Besides, what scent would you even choose instead, anyway?”

“Cinnamon,” Pinkie answered at the memory, looking past the spot where Trixie had stood and into the hallway where the real one was likely resting. She glanced at the living room again and took note of all the clothing that still needed to be taken care of but, with the scent of cinnamon at her nose and an even sweeter sentiment on her mind, she decided those could wait.

No more dilly-dallying, she thought to herself, taking two steps out of the kitchen before stopping in her tracks. Sitting on the counter, at the far back and almost out of sight, were multiple containers of Trixie’s Citalopram—far more than should have been there at one time. Pinkie did a quick count and came to the one plausible explanation. She’s stockpiling them again.

A heavy pit formed in her stomach, her nice thoughts crumbling away like too-dry pie crusts at the memory of the last time Trixie had stockpiled medication and her reasoning behind it.

No more dilly-dallying, Pinkie repeated, decisive steps carrying her forwards past the bathroom and towards the bedroom, where she could hear Trixie despite the mostly closed door.

She was sobbing.

Pushing the door open without knocking, light from the hallway spilled into the room, flooding the area in a dim glow. Pinkie could make out more scattered clothing, some drawers, a vanity with a mirror, and the outline of the bed. She, however, would not have been able to make out Trixie in the darkness had the girl she’d been looking for not turned around at the intrusion, a flurry of movement within the sheets as she sought out the intruder in her home.

Tearful eyes shined in the light, meeting Pinkie’s gaze. They seemed to relax once they recognized the visitor, but then Trixie’s glare returned, rolling onto her side to face into the darkness once again with Pinkie at her back. Throughout all this, the tears never stopped flowing.

Oh Trix, Pinkie sighed, taking soundless steps until she reached the side of the bed.

At first she merely sat on the bed, her weight causing the mattress to shift as it adjusted. Trixie however, did not stir from her position. Pinkie then fully lay down next to her, covering herself with the blankets despite feeling quite warm in her clothing. Trixie still did not react. In fact, it wasn’t until Pinkie put an arm around her that Trixie startled, making a small attempt at moving further from the girl holding her.

“Nope,” Pinkie whispered, holding her in place. “If you really don’t want a hug say so and I will let go but, otherwise, you are getting a hug for as long as I see fit. Got it, missy?”

Pinkie pulled on Trixie’s shoulder, turning her back around to where she could face her. Trixie resisted at first, a stubborn whine accompanying her efforts to remain facing away, but eventually gave in and it wasn’t long at all before she found herself with her face pressed against Pinkie’s chest. Pinkie began to stroke her hair. The sobbing got louder.

Pinkie shushed her gently as she continued to gently play with her hair, tightening the embrace of her other arm around Trixie’s back. “That’s ok, let it out. We’ll talk about it soon. Get it out first.”

“Soon” turned out to be around twenty minutes or so, as that’s how much time passed before Trixie’s wailing began to sputter out and her tears began to slowly come to an end. Pinkie felt Trixie deflate in her embrace and responded by giving her a gentle kiss upon her forehead.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“I guess.” Trixie shrugged. Her voice hollow and strained, a bit rough after all her crying. Pinkie made a note to get her a glass of water at the first opportunity, some tissues as well. Trixie looked up at her as best as she could from their awkward angle, her bloodshot eyes piercing in the low light. “You shouldn’t have come. I would’ve been fine.”

“I wanted to see you,” Pinkie said. “And just because you would have been fine on your own, doesn’t mean you still couldn’t be better with an assistant. Or are you saying that you actually needed help at that party you had me be your assistant for? I really can’t imagine any other reason for it, can you?”

Trixie pointedly rolled her eyes, but the blush spreading through her tear stained cheeks did not escape Pinkie’s notice.

“Fine,” Trixie huffed. “Well I’m sorry you had to see that. I’ll be okay now though. Are you thinking about staying the night? I could get food started?”

“I don’t know yet,” Pinkie lied, closing her eyes and breathing in the flowery scent of Trixie’s hair. It was a sweet refreshing smell compared to the incense Trixie liked to burn in her room, which she savored for a second or so before speaking again, as she readied herself for the task ahead. “But we’re not really done talking about this, are we?”

“Pinkie… I told you I’m f—”

“You don’t always have to be brave,” Pinkie interrupted. “You know I love that about you. I heard the voicemail by the way. I love when you’re confident. And funny. And above-it-all. But not tonight. You don’t have to be ‘great and powerful’ tonight.”

Pinkie never opened her eyes, but she could feel Trixie begin to shake in her arms right before the sniffling started again. Jokes and words of comfort alike began to cruise through her head at rapid speeds. The impulse to do anything to stop the girl in her arms from hurting any further grew to an uncomfortable degree. And yet, Pinkie clenched her eyelids tighter instead.

She needs this.

“Fine!” Trixie eventually snarled. “Not that it matters anyway. It’s the same bullshit as always. I was doing some thinking of where to go next with my career. Whether to start touring like you said, try to open a magic shop, do the party planning thing with you, or just quit everything and focus on the music store like I’d planned months ago.”

“And what did you decide?”

“That none of it matters!” Trixie yelled, pushing away from Pinkie in order to properly talk to her. “I was getting really frustrated and I had the thought of ‘calm down, it’s not like this matters too much,’ and guess what? It really doesn’t. Who cares if I tour or not? If I open a business or not? At the end of the day I’m just some worthless, insignificant, side-character in the stories of those who actually matter.”

The sound of Trixie’s heavy breathing mixed with the muffled sound of the downpour outside as the rain came down in earnest. Pinkie licked her lips before responding.

“I don’t think you’re worthless.”

Pinkie felt the impulse to close the distance, to hold the girl in front of her, but she resisted. She needed to be able to face Trixie directly, needed to make sure she was understood. And so, despite the hurt in Trixie’s eyes, the emptiness and weariness apparent in her voice, Pinkie did not immediately go to her. Fighting the impulse to cry alongside her was a lot harder, but she somehow managed that as well.

“You’re not insignificant. Not to me,” she said softly. “And Trixie is not a side-character to anybody, that’s for sure. You matter. You matter so much, and I really wish you could see that—especially how much you matter to me.”

“Do I matter because of me? Or because I’m the one that hasn’t left?”

“You’d matter to me even if you did leave.”

“Tch,” Trixie mumbled. “At least until the next charity case could keep you company, right?”

The distant boom of thunder filled the silence.

She’s just lashing out, Pinkie thought, swallowing the hurt. Change the topic.

“Speaking of leaving,” she said, keeping her voice from wavering. “I noticed you’re stockpiling meds again. Should I be worried?”

Now it was Trixie’s turn to think through her response. The bed creaked in the silence.

“It’s just insurance,” she said after a time. “In case things don’t work out. I’ve… I’ve been feeling really tired lately. Not to the point of doing anything but—I don’t know. It just makes me feel a lot less anxious knowing that in the event of a really really really bad day, it won’t—it won’t be messy.”

“But you’re not planning anything right now?”

“No, you know I’d tell you,” Trixie said, averting her gaze. “I told you last time, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did,” Pinkie nodded. “And you promise you’ll tell me again and that you’ll let your therapist know how things are going?”

“I promise to tell you,” Trixie agreed, voice still thin. “And I promise to tell her I’m having my thoughts. I’m obviously not going to tell her I’m stockpiling meds but… I’ll be honest about everything else. As much as I can be. Again, like last time.”

Pinkie looked at the girl in front of her for a minute, her eyes searching for deception but seeing only heartbreak. She sighed.

“Fine,” she said with a solemn nod. “Please don’t break your promise. It would really hurt me if you did. You know that, right?”

Trixie nodded slowly.

“Good,” Pinkie took a deep breath, the flowery scent from the pillow giving her some comfort despite the distance. “I still think you should be taking your medication. It can’t be good for you to not be taking it, right?”

“It’s not like it’s really doing much,” Trixie whispered. “You know what my real problem is, and it isn’t depression. It’s what I’ve seen. What I’ve experienced. Compared to that, it’s only natural to feel like I do. Meds aren’t going to change that. Nothing in this world can compare, is all.”

Not even me? Pinkie thought, before shaking her head violently. Not the point. Not the time. Focus. Pinkamena. Focus.

“I know!” Pinkie exclaimed, forcing as much brightness into her voice as possible. “How about I tell you more about Equestria? That always cheers you up. AJ just got a letter from Sunset so there’s some news, but also there’s some stuff I don’t think I’ve told you yet about how their mail system works there. If I remember right, they use dragon fire and spells! Wanna hear about it?”

She then waited for Trixie’s questions, for her speculation, for her wonderment. Pinkie looked on, unwilling to miss the moment where Trixie’s frown turned into a curious grin as it had done countless times before. She longed for her to finally close the distance.

Instead, she watched as Trixie seemed to collapse further into herself, eyes downcast. Her eyes watered again, before closing altogether, before finally turning to face away from her. And then, something inside Pinkie broke as Trixie spoke again in a fractured vacant voice.

“No. That’s alright. It’s not like I’ll ever get to see it anyway. I’ll die and be forgotten in this magicless world. Heh. Fitting. Don’t you think?”

Don’t cry.

The muffled rain.

Don’t you dare cry.

A noise from next door.

Don’t make this about you.

If Trixie found the lack of response odd, she did not say so. She simply stared at the wall, unaware of the tearful girl behind her. Pinkie meanwhile struggled with knowing what to do next. Every impulse told her to hug the girl in front of her and never let go.

But what will that fix?

No, Trixie was breaking. She was losing her. She would lose her.

Pinkie thought back to the medication in the kitchen. A ticking time clock. She needed to do something, but what? What could she possibly do to make this situation any better?

And really, when have I done something that actually helped someone?

Shy, Sunset, Dash, Rarity, they’d done so much better since they’d left. When they’d been around for her to help, how much had she actually been able to do for them?

Parties. Planning. Events, she listed. Nothing that matters. And now I have to fix Trixie? Pull her out of this hole? And if I mess it up?

No. She couldn’t think like that.

The bed frame began to creak again with movement and Pinkie wasn’t sure which of the two of them was shuddering. Maybe both?

I need to do something, she thought desperately. But what? It’s not like I can—

She sat upright, eyes wide.

I could.

She had even considered it before, but had decided against ever bringing it up because it would mean losing Trixie forever. Even now, looking at Trixie’s still form, she knew that to be the only possible outcome.

But I’m going to lose her anyway.

She had a choice to make and from where Pinkie was sitting, it was a rather simple one.

Time to stop being selfish.

Scooting closer, she placed one more kiss on the back of Trixie’s head. Trixie did not react, and Pinkie tried not to be hurt by that. Pinkie then got off the bed and walked to the doorframe. She looked back one last time and made to say something, anything, before leaving. However, the sight of Trixie, her back turned to her was all it took to make her lose her nerve. Instead, she voicelessly turned around and stepped back through the living room, leaving the apartment and walking into the now pouring rain.

If I’m going to lose her, it’s going to be on my terms, Pinkie thought, taking out her cellphone as she descended the steps. No matter what, Trixie is going to be happy at the end of this. Even if I can’t be.

Author's Note

And so it begins. Feel free to comment if you have strong thoughts and feelings about this chapter. I would love to see them. Otherwise, feel free to read one, as I'm posting everything in one go.

See you then,
-thedarkprep

EQG Pinkie Pie Cutiemark by Gowak

2 - Reused

Chapter Two

Reused

Turn around and say something.

The bed creaked as Pinkie moved closer and Trixie felt a soft kiss being placed on the back of her head. Gentle and caring, like the girl providing it.

Turn around and say something!

Trixie felt the mattress shift again as Pinkie removed herself from it, heard her footsteps as she walked across the room further away from her.

Don’t let Pinkie leave, she thought, biting her lip. Do something. Say something!

But she didn’t. All Trixie did was continue to stare straight ahead at the wall, her vision impaired by the dim light and the tears in her eyes, and to listen. She could hear the storm outside the walls, a muffled downpour and the occasional thunderclap. She could hear the neighbors, an occasional noise sifting through the apartment wall. What Trixie could no longer hear, however, was Pinkie.

She held her breath, tried to slow her pulse, strained her hearing. Nothing.

And then, there it was—the sound of a door closing in the distance.

She’s gone?

Trixie wasn’t surprised. Not really. Not after how she had just treated her, after what she had just said. Pinkie had done so much for her, had given her so much support and affection. How much had she sacrificed in time and emotional energy alone? And to do so out of pure kindness? They weren't dating, after all. They weren’t family. Only to have Trixie throw it in her face like that?

Honestly, this serves me right.

An image flashed through Trixie’s mind of Pinkie sitting next to her outside the school, a gentle smile on her face as lights shined on through the night sky in the background. Even back then, Pinkie had done her best to ground her against herself, a losing battle but one Pinkie had always been willing to fight.

She’s too good for me. Her fingers tightened around her shirt collar.

Another flash, a bright spring afternoon, and Pinkie’s beaming smile and piercing eyes were there, breathing purpose into her once again, even if momentarily, pushing her to feel like she hadn’t felt in years, the taste of frosting on her tongue...

She always has been. She began to sniffle and she could swear she smelled Pinkie’s vanilla scented conditioner in the air.

One more flash and Pinkie was picking her up from work, a concerned frown as Trixie, too distraught to drive herself home, wept in the passenger seat. Pinkie pulled over and held her in silence, awkward as the angle was, always the understanding one, her soft hair soothing against Trixie’s nose even as the rough seatbelt dug into her neck.

I don’t deserve her.

Pinkie had been the best thing that had ever happened to Trixie. She was one of the few things in her life worth sticking around for. Closing her eyes, Trixie thought back to the last few years. Grey landscapes folded out before her, shadowy stages and a muted record shop. A few splashes of red marred the picture—angry shouts, closed doors, an absent father. Nothing worth remembering.

Looking ahead proved no better, muddled images of uncertain futures. Indistinct images with ill-defined locations in which Trixie could not picture herself. Possible jobs and careers that held no luster or shine, and neither called nor beckoned to Trixie in any way that mattered. No, the future held no more color than the past did.

The present though... The present was washed in the most vibrant pink, a hue that imbued all it touched with life and energy and the belief that maybe things would end up brighter in turn, an infectious optimism that made even Trixie hope for better.

Or at least, it had been. But that was gone now.

So maybe I should leave as well.

It’s not like she had something to look forward to. The tour, the magic shop, the music store, the party service, they were the desperate thrashes of someone trying to carve out a space for herself where she felt one didn’t exist. They were attempts at survival, at building a life.

But to live was to struggle, however. And Trixie was tired of struggling.

She had been for a very long time.

She thought of the medicine in the kitchen. Thought of her now empty apartment. Thought about her dad, her mom, each out there somewhere in the world. She wondered if they wondered about her? About each other? About what they left behind?

Had their fingers shaken as they weighed their options? Had their breath come out in ragged gasps? Had they doubted?

And if they did, did it matter? They weren’t here. And maybe she wouldn't be either.

Seems that leaving is all a Lulamoon is good for, Trixie thought bitterly. At least no one will be waiting for me to come back.

But even as she made the decision, the thought idly struck her that, if she did leave, it would probably be blamed on her transition more than anything. That annoyed her.

And there was always the chance she’d… mess up. That would carry its own set of complications when she woke up. If she woke up.

Not to mention that if Pinkie did come back, she would be the one to find her, the only one to know what happened to her. If her dad ever returned, Pinkie would have to tell him. But how would he even know to ask her?

And then there was her promise to Pinkie on top of that.

With each new thought, Trixie felt something inside of her get carved out and an exhaustion fill the remaining void. Complications, doubt, insecurity, each contemplation doused the fire from her flame. Her eyes ached, but she was no longer crying.

She felt hollow. She felt empty. She felt tired.

So very tired.

Her eyes began to close against her will, and her last thoughts as she began to drift away were of pink skies and vanilla flowers.

A thundercrack roared through the sky, its growl echoing for miles and shaking walls with its resounding fury.

Trixie jolted awake.

Disorientation. Panic. Raised heartbeat. Shallow breaths. The distant yelling in memories mixing with the booming thunder of the storm outside.

Dammit, don’t do this!

She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, centering her thoughts.

You’re at home, she thought, slowing her pulse. You should be over this.

With practiced concentration, she focused on a few selected memories, stemming the tumultuous images from her dreams and replacing them with calmer alternatives. Raging rapids turned to mollifying streams.

She sighed.

Just perfect...

With the crisis averted, her mind began to take in her surroundings. She could feel her shirt, heavy with sweat and clinging uncomfortably to her body. The bedsheets, stifling and tangled around her. She must have moved a lot throughout the night.

The night.

Memories from earlier that night came back to Trixie then, memories of what she said, of what she did, of what she lost.

A low groan escaped her lips and for a moment she wished to have the nightmares back, if only to escape her current memories. Yet she knew there was no escaping this.

She opened her eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling. The room was dark, a dim light still coming in from the nearby hallway, or so she presumed.

No telling what time it even is, she thought. I should get ready for work. Or call out. Or at least shower.

She imagined the scent of vanilla, causing her to close her eyes again.

I should call Pinkie and apologize.

The memory of her last interaction with Pinkie rang loudly in her ears.

I should leave her alone.

The more time passed, the more Trixie found herself bothered and uncomfortable, hearing sounds, and smelling scents, and feeling sensations that were not actually there as she struggled to deal with her loneliness—feeling crowded in the empty room.

At the very least I should find my phone, she decided, making an effort to sit up, her eyes snapping open at finding herself being unexpectedly restrained. And yet, the panic was only there for a moment. In the dim light, she could make out Pinkie cuddling up against her side, holding on tightly around her middle, sleeping soundly.

Trixie stifled a gasp of surprise.

All at once more sensations began filling in. The weight of her arm around her. The extra warmth at her side. The soft breathing coming from the girl. The scent of vanilla. Things that Trixie thought she’d been imagining came to the forefront as she stared at the impossibly peaceful sight beside her.

Her throat went dry.

“She– She came back?”

“Yeah. She did.”

Trixie turned her head towards the unexpected voice, looking for the intruder. There, in the corner of the room and sitting on a chair dragged in from the living room, was Sunset Shimmer. Trixie didn’t say anything at first and just watched.

Sunset watched as well. It was clear she had been watching for a while. In a way, Sunset was always watching. Trixie knew as much. She remembered the days at school, where Sunset would walk down the hall, observing, listening, learning. And now that familiar stare was trained on her.

What have you been learning?

Sunset raised an eyebrow and Trixie struggled not to shrink back in response. She immediately felt ashamed. She’d never been afraid of Sunset before. Even at Sunset’s worst, Trixie had been one of the few who could stand her ground and not look away. And Sunset was definitely not at her worst anymore, even if Trixie was.

The way Sunset’s eyes fell to the floor made it clear that the response did not go unnoticed. Still, neither girl commented on it. There was no point after all. They both knew the other one knew.

The silence continued to drag on, and it became clear that Sunset was going to force Trixie to make the first move.

Figures, she mused, taking one last calming breath.

“Okay, Sunset,” she began. “Most obvious question first then. Not that you’re unwelcome, at all, but, why are you inside my home?”

“Why do you think I—”

“No,” Trixie interrupted. “We’re not doing the answer with a question bit. I get enough of that with therapy and you don’t know how annoying that can get.”

Trixie watched as Sunset smiled wistfully, an unexpected reaction, and chuckled as she said “I do, actually. And that’s fair. I’m here cause Pinkie asked me to be here.”

“Ah… So that’s where she went?”

“To AJ’s, yeah,” Sunset nodded. “Wrote to me from the journal and filled me in on some details. Asked me to come over here. Then she drove to pick me up from the portal. We got here about, what? Twenty minutes ago?”

“So how much did she tell you?” Trixie asked, trying to keep the accusation from her voice. Sunset didn’t immediately respond, and for a while all Trixie could focus on was the sound of the rain outside and Pinkie’s gentle breathing.

“Don’t be mad at her.”

“How much?”

“Enough that I dropped everything to come here,” Sunset relented. “I know about how you’ve been feeling. I know about the Friendship Games and what that did to you. I know about the meds in the kitchen, I know about your conversation with Pinkie, and…” and here she hesitated “...and I know about your birthday. I know what happened. I’m glad you told somebody.”

She’d already guessed as much, but Trixie still felt a cold fury begin to brew inside of her. It tasted of betrayal and Trixie did her best to smother those feelings. She nodded numbly.

“Is that all?”

“Most of it, yeah,” Sunset said, avoiding her gaze. “She told me some stuff about your parents, some other small work stuff here and there, but that’s the highlights. Or whatever you want to call it. The important parts, I guess.”

“Right. So then—what? She asked you to come here so you could… what? Talk to me? Set me straight? Give me a pep talk? I’m sorry, but I’m having a really hard time figuring out what she thought you could do for me that she couldn’t.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Sunset replied, some annoyance slipping into her tone. “First of all, Pinkie didn’t just ask…” she turned to look at the sleeping girl, her eyes distant “...she begged, Trixie. Tears in her eyes. Sobbing. The whole deal. So don’t make light of it. And she begged me to take you to Equestria, where I’m from. She thinks you’d be happier there, in a world with magic. She thinks it would save you.”

Trixie turned to look at the girl at her side as well, processing the information.

Pinkie? You did that for me? She knew how much Pinkie relied on her for company. She knew how much Pinkie needed her. It was one thing if Pinkie left of her own accord, but to do this for her…

She then turned to look at Sunset. There was a reaction there, as soon as she faced her. Sunset had seen something in Trixie and had reacted. Trixie was unable to read the reaction though, too deep in her own thoughts.

Equestria. Pinkie had told her so much about it. Story upon story of the things she’d heard and the things she’d seen and experienced on her trips to the magical land. And now she’d get to live there?

I get to live there?

And all she had to do was leave everything behind. Leave Pinkie behind. Wasn’t she going to leave everything behind anyway?

No. That was Pinkie leaving me. She needs me just as much as I need her. I promised her I wouldn’t leave.

But then again, she’d reached out to Sunset, hadn’t she? Maybe this was the play. A way to get rid of her without any of the guilt? And wouldn’t this be better for everyone? Pinkie deserved better than her. She had better than her already. This way, Trixie would be someone else’s problem.

And besides, what else is a Lulamoon good for than leaving anyway?

She almost said as much but, right before, she noticed Sunset twitch. Another reaction.

Something is up.

“So… You’re here to take me to your homeland?”

Sunset hesitated and Trixie had her answer. She braced for the words she knew would follow.

“No,” Sunset said a moment later. “I am not.”

“Right,” Trixie mumbled, the sting not lessened by predicting it. “That figures. I’m guessing having two of me over there would be too much. Or that it would be an issue with Twilight to have a human living there or something?”

Sunset looked at Trixie for a while before answering, but not unkindly. She was looking for something, Trixie could tell. And whatever it was, Trixie hoped she’d find it. She was too tired to resist.

Sunset shook her head.

“It’s not that actually,” she said softly. “I mean, those are probably issues we’d need to deal with, sure. But I think we’d figure something out. Honestly though, I really would take you with me if I actually thought it would help you. But I don’t. I really don’t. I know a thing or two about running away from your problems into a magical world and… well, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

Sunset was being kind. Trixie knew that. She was trying to help. But she still couldn’t help but bristle at the comparison.

“Yeah, sure, Mrs. Two Wives. Real cautionary tale you’ve got there!”

Trixie regretted her outburst as soon as it happened, and it wasn’t the way Sunset flinched but rather the contrast between her yell and silence in the room. Her eyes darted to Pinkie and she held her breath, watching for any signs of her rousing from her sleep.

One second passed. Then another. Then another. But Pinkie continued to sleep peacefully. Trixie took a deep breath of relief.

“It’ll take way more than that to wake her,” Sunset said, causing Trixie to face her again. “You should know that by now.”

She did.

“Just making sure,” Trixie muttered, gathering herself. “And I’m sorry for yelling. I know you mean well.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sunset waved her off. “I know how it looks and how it must have sounded. Things really do seem to have worked out for me recently, and I do get how they look from the outside. The thing though, is that they didn’t get this way because I ran away to a magical land filled with ponies and arcane knowledge. Things got this way because of a lot of hard work I put in to better myself and because I got lucky—right place at the right time kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” Trixie said. “Pinkie told me about the thing with Twilight’s parents. And that ponies over there were giving you a hard time over the whole poly relationship thing. Not to mention your parents. I didn’t mean to make things seem like they’d been easy for you.”

To Trixie’s surprise, Sunset started laughing.

“Oh man,” she said between giggles. “I wish, that’s what I was talking about. No, I mean, all that did and does suck, sure. But I’m talking about me. Me specifically, and what I had to better about myself. Like… did you know I’m an alcoholic?”

Trixie stared for a second, unsure of how to answer. “I know you used to drink a lot?”

“Alcoholic,” Sunset repeated, somberly. “I don’t really drink anymore. But let me tell you, that was hard. I felt like I knew what rock bottom was like when they found me kicked out of a bar after I promised to do better. But imagine relapsing and letting down not one, but two girlfriends. And then imagine doing it twice. And then imagine relapsing a third time when they’re your wives. And each time you have to promise you’ll do better and you get to see the look of disappointment in their eyes and you know how hurt they are because you’ve said that before. Let me tell you, that feeling doesn’t really care if you are a horse or a human at the time.”

Trixie nodded along, unsure exactly of what feeling she was sympathizing with.

“Or how about this?” Sunset continued, her pace increasing. “It’s a day like any other but, for some reason, you just can’t get your ex-girlfriend out of your head. All day you are just drowning in the memories of everything you did wrong, like you got hit by the elements all over again, and you’re down for the day, and the only one there to help you through it is your wife who not only shares her name but is her interdimensional counterpart. That feeling right there? That didn’t care that I was a magical prodigy.”

Sunset was practically panting as Trixie shifted her attention from her clenched hands to Pinkie’s sleeping form, a question forming on her lips.

“Wasn’t there, I don’t know… Magic that could’ve helped calm you down?”

“Doesn’t work like that,” Sunset replied, shaking her head. “Not everything has a magical solution. A spell like that exists but using it on me in the state that I was in could have been dangerous. Actually, magic did make things worse that time because, when I really started breaking down, Shy tried to hug me and I panicked and teleported. I didn’t even know where I was and I just… was there, too out of it to teleport back. Shy didn’t know where I went and Twilight was busy and couldn’t come home to track my teleport. It was… a trying day for everyone.”

“...sounds like it,” Trixie admitted, processing more and more of what she heard.

Is that what I would be like? My magic, an inconvenience to others due to my unstable emotional state? No wonder she doesn’t want to take me. I could even be dangerous. But that means...

“Then there is no hope.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Sunset said with a small smile. “I’m Mrs. Two Wives, remember? I’m a mother now too. And I’m definitely much happier than I used to be. There are still bad days but I’ve gotten much better at dealing with them. As I said, I’ve become a much better pony. Person. Whatever.”

Trixie watched as Sunset smiled fondly at something only she could see, before returning her attention to her.

“But I didn’t get there through magic. I didn’t get better from running to Equestria. I got better by running to ponies, people, who cared about me.”

“So that’s it? Love and friendship and all that?”

Sunset shook her head.

“You still have to do the work,” Sunset reminded her. “And it’s so hard, Trixie. I don’t have to tell you that. But if you have those people that care about you, even if it’s just one person, they make it worth it. I can’t even tell you the number of times I slipped back. The number of times I fell and relapsed and messed up. But every single time, they caught me. There’s power in that. A power that magic just can’t match.”

Sunset gestured to Pinkie, who was still clinging tightly to Trixie’s side. She gave an awkward smile.

“If you came to Equestria with me, you'd be alone there, with no one,” she said quietly. “I can’t let you do that to yourself. Not when you have someone here who cares about you as much Pinkie obviously does.”

Trixie looked at Pinkie, really studied her and the way she was sleeping. Her breathing was still soft, but was sometimes broken by a random gasp or groan. Her face was not relaxed and, if she really looked, she could see tear stains covering her cheeks. But most telling were her arms, still gripping her as if she’d fade away the second they let go.

And what evidence had Trixie given her otherwise?

Trixie ran one hand through Pinkie’s hair, gently rubbing against her scalp and earning a satisfied sigh from Pinkie in response. Pinkie’s grip slackened and Trixie took that as a good sign.

“She really loves you, you know?” Sunset commented from her perch. “I don’t know how long you’ve been dating but—”

“We’re not dating,” Trixie interrupted, though not sharply. “We’re not... But… Yeah, I know.”

Sunset nodded in understanding as Trixie continued to play with Pinkie’s hair, the soft breathing of the three being the only sound to fill the silence.

Author's Note

Look at that! Sunset, Pinkie, and Trixie. The same three from the ending of Under Her Spell. It's almost like I planned things ahead or something. Weird right? Anyway, as with the last chapter, if you have any strong thoughts or opinions, feel free to comment below and I will read and respond. Otherwise, feel free to move on to the ending chapter, which is already up.

I will see you there.
-thedarkprep

EQG Trixie Cutiemark by Gowak

3 - Recycled

Chapter Three

Recycled

Sleepy eyes fluttered open as a noise from somewhere roused Pinkie from her sleep. Consciousness came to her as a warm hug that spread through her body until she was ready to finally face the day.

Now, where the heck am I?

Pinkie was having trouble seeing, in part due to her own bleariness and also in part to the darkness of the room, which was her first clue that she wasn’t in her own bedroom. No, if that were the case, the light up stars on her ceiling would be giving off a soft glow for her to see by. She was definitely somewhere else.

That thought didn’t bother her much, however, conditioned as she was by sleepovers in her youth. Besides, there were a limited number of places she could be nowadays.

Pinkie took a deep breath into her pillow, a huge smile growing as she took in the flowery scent of Trixie’s shampoo.

Ah, right, Pinkie thought, burying her head deeper into the pillow. I did come over last night. I must have spent the night.

Still sleepy and more than a little groggy, Pinkie decided to let Trixie sleep in some more as she savored the morning. Something wasn’t right though, and that ever awakening part of Pinkie was starting to take notice. For starters, Pinkie felt uncomfortably hot under the covers and, as she shifted, she could feel her shirt and her jeans from the previous day.

Why are my clothes still on? she wondered. It’s not like we fool around every time I come over, but I always at least get into her nightgowns because of how flustered she gets and how soft they are. Why didn’t— Right… The talk...

Memories from her drive over began to form, flashes from the past week filling in gaps she had forgotten in her sleep.

Right… that makes sense… But it’s fine because—Sunset!

Like a splash of cold water, Pinkie found herself completely awake. The rest of the night came back to her. The conversation, getting Sunset, driving back, crying to sleep, each segment pieced together before her, filling her with dread.

She listened for the sound of breathing coming next to her. For any sound. For any movement. For anything to let her know that she wasn’t in this room alone.

When she found none, her eyes began to water.

However, it wasn’t until a minute later, when she finally gathered the strength to look and found an empty spot where Trixie had been, that she allowed a proper whine to cross her lips. Sunset wasn’t at her chair either, of course. And that made sense. They’d left together. To a better life.

Without her.

“S-So it’s d-done then” Pinkie said to herself, staring at the closed bedroom door. She’d heard somewhere that hearing something out loud made it easier to believe. She really hoped it was true. “I’m s-so happy for th-them.”

Pinkie sat up on the bed and grabbed Trixie’s pillow, the one Trixie had been using that night, holding it up to her face. She hugged it tightly, sobbing into it, but refusing to make a sound.

You’re supposed to be happy, Pinkie scolded herself. She’s going to be okay now. She’ll be alive in a world of magic. She’s going to have a life much better than anything she could have ever had here… with you.

The tears would not stop and it was getting hard to breathe. She blew her nose into the covers to clear her airway. After all, it wasn’t like Trixie would be around to care anymore. She wouldn’t be around when Pinkie was upset either. Or to send her a good morning text. Or to call her every night and check in. Or to listen to her vent about her friends. She wouldn't be around for a lot of things.

Stop it! Stop it! Pinkie cried. You gave this to her. A gift. You helped her. Stop being sad! Don’t make this about you!

But she couldn’t stop. Even now she was already thinking about the coming week and the many events she’d have to reschedule. The events she would straight up cancel. No more visits to the record shop. No more visits to the park. No more outings downtown. No more magic shows and metal concerts. After all, what was the point if Trixie wasn’t going to be there? It wasn’t like Caramel enjoyed any of that. If anything, she could just do more of the stuff he liked now instead, at least until he too found somewhere better to be.

Stop! Pinkie growled at herself one final time. You’ve done this before. You’ll be fine. You always are. What’s one more friend that leaves?

They all do in the end.

Pinkie had more to say to herself, or so she thought. But at that moment there was a sound. A metal bang coming from the kitchen, which startled her train of thought to a standstill.

What was that?

Quietly getting off the bed and still holding the pillow, Pinkie made her way to the door and pressed her ear against it. She heard...something. There was definitely movement. And a voice? No two voices…

Pinkie swung the door open and rushed into the kitchen, screeching to a halt in front of a very startled Trixie and Sunset, both of whom were in the middle of preparing breakfast.

“Good morning, girls!” Pinkie cheered, a bright smile on her face as she frantically wiped her face with the sleeve of her shirt. The other two continued to stare in disbelief, the hissing of batter filling the silence.

Sunset recovered first. “Fuck, Pinkie. Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Why do you ask?”

“Um…” Trixie exchanged a glance with Sunset. “You kind of look like you’ve been crying. A lot.”

“Oh that,” Pinkie giggled, waving them off. “I had a nightmare, is all. Nothing you two need to worry about. I’ll definitely feel better after some breakfast. What are we having?”

Trixie and Sunset exchanged another look but seemed to agree on dropping the issue, their smiles returning as Trixie went over their vegetarian breakfast options, while Sunset went back to cooking pancakes, adding a comment here and there as talks moved from food onto other topics. Pinkie meanwhile smiled and nodded, putting up an act of normalcy, at least until a break in the conversation where Trixie held on to her hand. The warmth sent shivers through Pinkie’s body.

“You sure you’re ok?” Trixie mouthed at her, causing Pinkie to smile again.

“Yeah, Trix,” Pinkie whispered. “I promise that everything is fine.”

Trixie stared at her for a few seconds with a searching gaze before smiling, satisfied with the answer, and Pinkie could not find it in herself to feel guilty at the deception. After all, even if it was a lie, it was a tiny one and not too far from the truth.

Because, in reality, she was fine. Trixie was still here for now, after all. And so, for as long as that lasted, she had at least one reason to keep smiling.

Author's Note

And so it ends. Thank you all for letting me share this story with you. Do let me know how you felt about it and any thoughts and comments. You can expect a blog post on Friday with some information about the next story on the docket. At time of publishing this, it's not quite ready, but we'll see how much progress I can make in a week. In any case, make sure you follow so you don't miss that.

Lastly, as always, thank you for your time,
-thedarkprep