Chapter forty-five: One for the shelf

I watched for a moment, as curious eyes grew wider and wider, far past the sleeplessness in them. Only to turn to puzzlement, as they twitched from myself to the covers. It was a tall tale to hear, but for one such as herself, it was one that few could have imagined in her eyes. What’d I’d give to have that kind of innocence again, to have the mind of a child, with little to fear within these walls.

“There’s no way he did all that!” she shouted to me, before letting out a yawn.

Alas, that sleep was finally catching up with her… “Think what you will,” I smiled, long past my own yawn. It was quiet nights like these, I was thankful to have to ourselves, when I could just share a tender moment… or a story. “Though that won’t make your bedtime change any.”

With a groan the filly mumbled, and finally rested back against the pillow. Such stubbornness, in such a tiny package… wonder where she learned that from? “But? How? How did he manage any of that?” she asked, protesting for a moment while I brought the covers up a bit closer to her neck, and she tucked them in close with a flash of her horn, “I thought the Steel Rangers were strong?”

Are strong… the years out in the wastes hadn’t changed that, and while there was nothing left of the bunch he tangled with. There were other bunkers out there across Equestria, but what he’d done was enough to keep some parts of the wasteland close to home quiet.

“That one’s simple,” with a tender pair of lips, I passed a peck along her brow. Much to the little one’s dismay, as she wiggled her muzzle to me. Just when was she going to get used to that? “… he had friends.”

Shuffling under the blanket for a moment, she finally situated herself and got comfortable. All in time for another yawn to take her by surprise, “Dad had some strange company…” oh you have no idea.

I just wish you could have met them all.

“That he did, but those are the best kinds of friends to have…” alright, she was dragging this out. With a careful twist of my horn, the lantern to her side turned down to a dim candle, and I strode towards the door. For a second I paused, looking back at her in that bed, and the smile grew on my face. She might not understand it now, but she would one day. “I love you, Tinker…” call it maternal instincts, but I was never going to get tired of saying that, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Another yawn met me, and I had to bite my lip just to keep my own silent. “I love you too, mom.”

Or hearing that.

After a silent shut of the door, I took a breath, and wiped my eyes again… there was a long day ahead tomorrow. Up the stairs from the basement I went, and across the shop I already saw my laundry list of things to tend to. Some sections of the irrigation needed new piping, there was still half a turret on the workbench that was always on the fritz, and even the gutted parts of Stocks old 40mm found its way inside a bench vice for maintenance… I really needed to ask Deacon not to leave his toys lying around. Though, with all that work, how was that different than any other day? Still, the night was young, and I could do with a little time to myself now.

Outside the sky might have been dark from the clouds, but with the lights of the town still shining. I found my way past the crops still creeping up through the soil, it wouldn’t be long till it was harvest. Especially when there were more mouths to feed than ever before… the town itself had done well over the years, and while we were still barely managing to keep those newcomers full. So far, any that did show up at least made sure to pull their weight.

The market center had most of those stalls long closed down for the day, lights were out inside, all save the few that tended to their keep a little late into the night. As always, the door with the gun hanging above it stayed open. Somethings never change, and you never knew when we’d need an extra bullet in the night.

“Good evening there, Alimite,” I heard called out from the doorway. Standing there was one mare, blissfully sweeping away the dirt into the street.

“Good evening, Taffy,” I smiled warmly at her, noting the sand at the edge of her eyes, “Mable having you tend to the floors after hours?”

“Oh, it keeps me busy,” the shy mare gave a shadow of a smile past those weary lids of hers, “though I always worked better at night, so I can’t complain.”

I’m glad we were able to get to her in time… that storage room hadn’t see any of the fighting from the dockyard, and just like we left her. The mare was bound and gagged on the floor, shivering in fear, and wide eyed when we came back through. The Knight, or Ex-Knight, had no idea what transpired outside those walls. Though even after seeing the devastation that took place by our hooves, she didn’t shy away from our group as we turned tail.

We hadn’t made it past the outer fencing before Taffy finally asked that burning question… Admittedly, it didn’t take much convincing on her part to talk us into it. With another still wearing her suit, there wasn’t much worry for if she tagged along for the journey. Besides, it felt kinda wrong to leave her stranded out there in the north with nothing but the bodies of her comrades.

If we had thought about it any longer, well… the blast we saw from afar would have greeted us instead.

Getting back to the town must have been a culture shock after being with the Rangers. From order and discipline, to a ramshackle bunch of controlled chaos… though some would say they’re one in the same. Still, she didn’t run off when there was news of other ranger groups popping up. The mare decided to stick by our slice of the wastes, plus… it kept her close to somepony else.

As I passed by, I gave another wave trying to blink away my own sand. “I’d get some rest if you can manage it…” her brow started to stand on end, “I know somegryphon will be at your door tomorrow for parts.”

Oh! She didn’t like the sound of that one.

It didn’t matter just how many goods he brought in; Deacon still managed to make the mare about chase him out with that broom when half his gear was torn to shreds lately. As good as the guy was at fixing his own stuff, another pony was always on Taffies side when it came to his well-being. That still hadn’t changed much in his nature, no matter how many times she smacked him.

Steadily my hooves wandered the streets, the chill of the night never making it through my coat. Years out here would make you used to it all, and having the warmth of so many around you more than made up for it. The town square was no different during the day as it was at night. A few ponies laughed and carried on, some sharing a drink, as others shared a game of cards… or a hoof to the face.

The scuffle broke out from afar, and all I could hear from it was shouts of cheating… before a shot rang out. I knew who took the shot before I even had to see the mare. Butter had her lever action in the air, and but a moment after that the pair that decided to solve it with hooves were back on their feet. Pacing back to the game, a bit more peacefully this time with apologies spilling from their muzzles. There were some shoes to fill when Walker was taken, but in the end, one mare at least found the fortitude to step in them.

Three more guards trotted past her, eying the pair for but a moment, as they went back to their patrol. With the numbers swelling over the years, it was a welcome addition to at least have a few more guards on the roster. More than enough to keep the peace as the town became better known by those we trusted. That made Butters’ job ever easier, yet she still found herself working long into the night. This was her town… and she was going to ensure it was safe.

A gentle nod from her I returned while they walked by, and I still hadn’t worked out the energy in my legs. Those should be the only shots heard tonight, by a pony… hopefully. Although if I wanted to keep it that way, I had to make sure of a few things. Time to do my own evening tasks. Past the center I went, down another street that hustled with the quiet sounds of ponies turning in for the-

“Get back home ya varmints!” another shouted as she burst from an alley.

Quiet sounds… the younger kids of the town still managed to slip out a few windows here and there, either to explore, or just cause mischief. Though they all quickly learned, there was another who knew these streets far better than they ever could hope. The group of kids scattered, and I saw a few of them flee to the safety of their homes, a few others didn’t take the easy way out. Oh well, they’d learn soon enough once she caught them.

“I’m just glad you didn’t use that thing,” the 10mm pistol had fit well on Spades’ hip, after much practice that is. Though the combat helmet finally didn’t flop over her eyes anymore, “At least this time.”

“That was only once!” Spade protested, finally grown enough to meet my chin, “and I wasn’t even aiming at them.”

“You weren’t aiming in general,” another voice fluttered down from overhead, just behind her. Instantly the filly stiffened up, and even started to cringe, “it was a happy accident you only managed to shoot the ground below them.”

Either it was later than I thought… or running around with the up-and-coming mare was taking its toll on the gryphon. There were bags to the bags under Deacons’ eyes, and yet for as tired as he might have been. I saw that same spark in them from the first time he went out on patrol… with a certain addition to his party.

He was well versed in any and all types of jobs a merc could find. That kinda background makes for a well-rounded adventurer, town guard, and teacher. All he needed was a student willing to listen… or one stubborn enough to go hoof to talon with him. Keeping her stance strong, and chin up, Spade turned around to face him. Try as you might kid, you aren’t going to puff your chest out enough to intimidate the guy.

“You have any idea how many times the misses has pointed a gun at me?” Deacon started to snicker, which brought his partner down a few notches. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Called it… although, “Hmm… misses?” my ears perked up, and I watched his non-existent ears splay back against his head. “Finally giving Tumble the title I see? It only took what, five years?”

“Only four mind you!” he shouted, trying to puff his chest out much the same. Sorry Deacon, doesn’t work for her, and it won’t for you.

“Actually less…” Spade interjected, “this is just the first time I’ve heard him say it in public,” I couldn’t help but try and stifle a snort. Try mind you, succeed, not so much. Deacon passed his partner a glare, as she followed it up with a shrug of her shoulders and a grin, “What? I’m not always sleeping when ya send me to bed?” I could watch these two for hours, as she stuck her tongue out at him… if Deacon thought he was quick on the draw, he’d met his match when this one came to the table. “Then there’s the nights where she calls out Little Chicky, mostly behind closed-”

“And enough of that!” a talon went around Spades’ muzzle, and I finally let my laugh break the silence.

A silent night to myself was pleasant, but it was so worth it to run into the pair. Wiping a tear from my eye, I took another breath before even trying to get a word in. “Should I tell the misses that you’ll be late tonight?” so… Turkey, Little Chicky, and calling her that could send his feathers in a ruffle. Oh, he is not living this one down!

Letting go of her muzzle, and getting a giggle in return. Deacon hoisted the carbine across his shoulder a bit more, “we’re about finished up actually… so long as some filly doesn’t go around chasing others again?” the look of just doing my job spread across her face. “Other than that, we’ll be home in time for supper.” At least if I didn’t want to cook, Tumble was more than happy to have us over… in the home that she just happened to start sharing with the gryphon, after our adventure. “Now what of you Alimite?” his brow caught mine, “it’s late ya know… isn’t it time for you to retire?”

Probably, but there was one thing I wanted to see first… okay maybe a few things, “I’m getting there… just, doing my rounds.”

That much he could understand, and with some chatter between them about putting chloroform in Spades’ pillow, the two faded off down their own path. As I walked this one, all to myself. It wasn’t until I reached the perimeter to the town that I finally managed to catch some of that chill, out here the wind wasn’t broken by the buildings inside. Though, at least it gave our guns some much needed line of sight.

Up in some of those reinforced towers, I saw the guards standing by with weapons in hoof or horn. With more numbers, it gave those off duty time to practice a bit. So whatever my guns couldn’t reach out and touch, some of them hopefully could. Steadily I heard the purr of motors running as I watched the guns with a careful eye, making sure to pass a smile to those on guard, all while ensuring their automatic counterparts were in top shape.

Machines and ponies working together… that was security. Being far out of the way of most places was one thing, and while we might have gotten many new faces over the years. Having to cross all the open terrain to get here did leave more of those unwelcome guests far past the doorstep. I’d kill to have a few AMR turrets that could reach out and touch another from miles away, but that kind of foresight to pull the trigger or not was best in the hoofs of an actual breathing creature.

Ahh… a pony can dream, can’t they?

Back along the perimeter I went, and even before my approach I heard that ticking noise. The turret in question kept sputtering as it tried to swivel back and forth. Something was wrong with one of my created children, and I knew I wouldn’t rest well tonight until it was fixed. Up the ladder I went, as I left my eyes to wander over its frame.

“Come on darling,” I purred at it, like I wished the machine would back, “Show me your secrets.”

Motor was good, as was the belt attaching it to the swivel, so what could… ah there ya are. One of the pullies connecting the motor to frame was dented, likely from some critter getting a chomp in before being gunned down themselves. No matter how many guns you have pointing out of a place, Radroaches still somehow managed to skitter their way into just about anywhere.

Nothing a little love couldn’t fix. The tip of my horn edged closer to the part, and as I watched the ambient glow of the enchantment took over. Metal twisted and molded back into its original ‘factory’ form, and I heard that little chirp lessen decibel by decibel.

Seeing things put back together and working as a whole once more? That’s the part of the job I loved… the grease, grime and sweat? Call that a bonus in my book, not so much for others… all save a few I’d met. Down from the platform I found the ground, following the edge of our barrier, and as it curled around the towns edge. I caught the whiff of something in the air. Radroach? No too gamey. Scorpion? Those smelled like rotten brahmin milk.

My own patrol was done, and the rest of them I already took at earlier in the day, before getting occupied in a tale. There was still one stop I wanted to make before heading home, but I could always take a detour. That was red meat cooking, and just past the humming sounds of another, the smell lingered out the open window.

From tumbling around the wastes at the beck and call of the wind, to trudging through it along with another, and now here she was… humming the latest tune from the DJ, while in front of a stove. Mercy hanging from a mantel on the wall might have taken away from the holiday card setting, but that’s just what the wastes did to someponies.

She might go out from time to time with the gryphon, tackling odd jobs off the board to bring in extra caps. Old habits did die hard after all, but it was enough to scratch that particular itch of adventure in her name. Though besides being right at home behind a scope with a raider in her sights. The mare found just as much bliss in having a place to call her own.

“Radtoad?” I perked up, and the mare turned around licking the edge of her hoof.

“Close… but no cigar,” Tumble tutted for a moment, and pulled the pot from the heat, “Bloodwing.”

That was my second guess, machines I was well versed in… though cooking was her forte. “And I didn’t even get an invite…” I grinned to her, yet the mare brushed it off with a wave of the spoon.

“Oh please, you hate Bloodwing…” okay, she got me there.

What? Survival or not, a pony did acquire certain tastes out here still in the wastes. I hated Bloodwing, Tinker despised Tatos, and Deacon… actually I think that bird ate just about anything this mare put in front of him. She could have probably went and fried up a shoe, and he would have treated it like a Tenpony Tower meal.

“It’ll be Turkey on the menu if he doesn’t get his ass back soon…”

Time to play middle mare, “I ran into the pair of them not too long back, they’re almost done.” That garnished a smile from the mare, but I did have to throw one gryphon in hot water too while I’m here. If he wasn’t going to take care of his toys, I knew she would, “Though can the misses tell her gryphon to get his launcher off my work bench? I need that vice.”

“Certainly can, and I’ll-” Tumble froze for a moment at some of my select words, and if it wasn’t the heat of the kitchen. Then something else was getting the blood to rush to her face. Come on girl! It’s been almost five years now since the train station!

“Have a nice night!” I called out, and darted from the window before she could hurtle that spoon my way… or grab Mercy. Ya know, which ever came first.

Past their little home I found the path leading towards the mine… we still hadn’t explored it all that much after the years. Though given most of the tunnels were long past inspection, I think many of us were quite okay with that. I had… other reasons to be up here.

Just as the town grew, so did our number of graves. Some with something as simple as a large stone marking them, where only the family or friend would know. Others with actual sticks with their name carved into it. As well as others, with a piece of them they left behind when they made that final trip. The wind started to pick up in the opening a bit more, and I regretted not swiping a coat on my way out the door.

Though I wouldn’t be here long, just enough to say hello…

“Hi… mom,” the stone was a simple enough placement, but the snowflake peddled flower was my own touch. I slumped down to my chest, and this close even out in the cold, some of that chill was taken away. “If only you could see the place now, things have really went above and beyond since it all quieted down in our neck of the woods.”

Listlessly I looked out to the town, the lights flickering off in the near distance, as some were extinguished from those turning in. “Almost a little city all to itself… though a name we can’t ever decide on,” even after everything that’s happened, some of us who held the respect of others couldn’t decide if we should even call it anything. Part of us wanted to do something meaningful, to those that we lost during the more eventful times. Yet, while we weren’t exactly keeping our head down as much as before, we also didn’t want a name on the map, “maybe it’d be best to keep it that way…”

Back to her grave my eyes went, as they turned to the withering grass the sprouted up around the rock. A tug of my horn later, let those fly away in the wind. “Just like the place, Tinker has grown up so fast… was this how it was with me?” you had to grow up fast out here in the wasteland. Many her age had a much harder start in life, I knew one young mare who lost her wings when she was the same age. Though if I could keep her innocence just a little longer, then I could stay happy… ease her into the world. “You would have loved her, and there would have been another ear to listen to all the stories you got to tell me when I was young… of how things used to be.”

A sigh escaped past my breath, one like I always had when I was up on this open ground. “If only you could have met her,” I found my way back to my hooves, “both of you… for that matter.”

With a silent goodbye, or more of a goodnight, I went on to the next marker not all that far away. Some of the gear you saw out here marking ones body was still in good enough condition to use, though if the wrong pony saw you try and take it. It’d just be another hole somepony would have to dig in the end.

This one was no different, “I hadn’t forgotten about you Riff Raff…” the combat helmet on a stick, etched with her name, stayed in the same spot since we placed it. After everything we went through together, most of which I missed out on as the party trotted off for the next adventure, I think it’d be hard to forget this one hellhound who didn’t quite live up to that name. “How would you have done with a pony pup? A new little packmate for you to taunt, tease, and scare with that wicked smile of yours…” I started to chuckle for but a moment.

“A smile I can still say I miss…” I didn’t get to work with her long, but even in that short time. The hound sure grew on me, especially getting to watch Tumble squirm every time she looked at Deacon the wrong way. There was still plenty of squirming now, even after a very obvious subject was brought up, but the hound had a way of just making it that much more fun. “Don’t worry, you’re still watching over us… one way or another.”

After everything Deacon tried, sometimes there was just so much you could do for a creature. Though the gryphon wasn’t about to leave her there at that pier, between himself, and that suit Tumble got. They were able to march her all the way back home for a proper respect to the life she lived. A life that kept on living, in the first grenade turret I’d build from her launcher. She was grinning somewhere, baring those teeth at whatever crossed her barrels path.

Yet, her tribute wasn’t just in the form of a gun… and my eyes wandered over to another grave, and a helmet atop the mound of dirt. Nothing fancy, nothing flashy for anything he’d accomplished, just as he probably would have preferred it. Just a simple helmet, and the initials of RR across its brow.

“I know I say it a lot… but thank you, Wildfire,” my heart purred out a small thump in my chest. As I found it still aching at everything he went through, so much of it I couldn’t help to prevent. If only I’d met him sooner, but that might have led to different outcome. “The whole town would have been much different if you came at any other time, we could have already been on the brink, I might not have made the connection, or Winter could have already…” I choked there at the thought. You’d think I would have gotten used to that idea, and I did, but every so often it was still a surprise in my mind. With a quick shake I cleared my head, “The whole town owes you more than you could imagine, as do I…”

It had been years since I’d felt that first kick in my stomach. Though like any good mare, I knew what it meant long before that started happening. The morning sickness, the fatigue, the very hormonal outbursts… sorry Deacon for not being ever stellar towards your wit.

Yet, another had put it perfectly. “Mom was right about one thing,” okay a lot of things she was spot on about, but you know what I mean, “having that breath of fresh air, really does lift the spirits in a pony.”

Spirits that had been with me for the last four years, and would stay that way for many more to come if I had anything to say about it… things were fairly quiet in our slice of the wastes. Ponies were fed, there was water to drink, and I could rest easy at night not worrying about the little miss down in the basement sleeping by herself.

Now I just had convince somepony for a sibling, “still not stealthy!” I called out over my shoulder. “I know you heard all that.”

“Practice doesn’t always make perfect,” he muttered a curse under his breath, “but this time I wasn’t even trying.”

As I got to my hooves, that suit I saw so long ago, stood there stoic as ever. Beaten, battered, repaired, and patched up… it’s a wonder it hadn’t just blown up already. Though it’s not like he hadn’t given it his best shot at times. With a click, the visor went up, and I got to see my colt. Cheater… could I really be mad at that smile?

“I am trying mind you, part of the whole air about being dead…” he trotted up to my side, and admired yet again the grave we built for him.

I thought he was for months… I had cried my eyes out long after waiting for days on end for some sign that he was alright, but when he went off on that ship. There was just no way for us to know, no indication that we could even find him if we tried. I wanted to stay at the station up north, search out for him once the others had gotten back on the train… but that blast hitting the dockyard put that idea to bed rather quickly. As much as it killed me at the time, I knew one thing.

It was up to the colt to make his way back to us, and I got a knock on the door one night.

For as much as I missed him, to say I was furious was an understatement. We already mourned our dead from that trip, himself and Riff alike. Seeing his suit again was like reliving a painful memory. Though it was that happy kind of angry, where you’re so overjoyed to be wrong. Did I throttle him with my go-to tool still? You bet your ass I did! Though I was just glad that it hurt inside that helmet of his, told me he was the real thing and not just a dream.

We’d found another use for Taffies suit after all, Tumble wasn’t using it anymore, so it was the perfect headstone… at least the helmet was. I passed Wild a smile that mirrored his own, and watched as he looked over the grave now like he’d done almost every week since he returned. It was kind of surreal to see your own burial. However, some part of me thinks that it was a reminder of just how close he’d come to the real thing.

Myself and our friends pestered him for days about his journey back… but Wild kept his own secrets about that one. All I know is there was a lot of walking on his part, and falling, lots and lots of falling. For how much his suit was dinged up on the way, it was a tale for another day… perhaps a bedtime story of his own. Though I’m pretty sure the colt shot through the roof when I told him the news, as if it shouldn’t have been obvious for with how long he was gone… I’m just glad he got back in time to see Tinker take her first breaths.

“We really should be getting some rest… are you done your rounds?” I nudged him with my muzzle, but as I walked towards the town.

Wild stood there instead. “I am, just… give me a moment.”

His hooves went over to the other ranger helmet that dotted the ground, one he barely got to know in person. Yet I knew his whole journey would have been cut that much shorter, had they never crossed paths… I’ve seen him fire a pistol, and although it’s improved. Tinker when we do take her out to shoot, is already leagues past her father.

Whatever he said to the ranger, I didn’t know. He usually liked to keep that talk privately in his own head, but I could only imagine it was words of admiration… words that probably were sprinkled with the disgust for the rangers still active today. Time hadn’t made them any better, and there were far more like Snatchback than Tungsten. Though I’d like to think there were some good apples out there. Just like there were ponies who remembered some of those apples that fell, the flowers at the helmet from one mare told me that much.

I’m just glad the bad ones hadn’t made it out this far. “Alrighty… let’s get back.” He nodded to me and together we trotted into town.

Once inside the shop, I was thankfully able to convince him long ago not to start sleeping in the suit… as much as he would have felt safer with it on. He still woke up from time to time with a cold sweat, something about water rushing around him, but it had gotten better after a while. Those nights I’d squeeze him a bit tighter, and he’d drift right back off.

Though that also meant he had to leave his second skin down here in the shop. The latches along the back snapped open, and with careful ease he managed to slide out… onto those braces, and peg. It wasn’t the finest work I could have done, even working together it was arduous, but in the end he was mobile once more. Up until that hind leg seized up and he nearly met the floor…

A few tugs of his horn broke the joint free, and with a flex of the matrix going to work open on his hip. Wild found his footing once more. “Is there anything left of Taffies suit to fix that?” I asked, “I know the frame is in pieces, but there’s probably something.”

“I’ll have to check later, or it might just need some grease,” my kind of solution… look at my cutie mark, “hey it got me mobile, and the suit back up to order.” A pop of the rear panel made his face drop once more, like it always had, “more or less.”

Something about trying to hold off the flames of a sinking submarine sent that shield talisman into overdrive… and the stone was long fused to the framework of the suit itself. Magic had it’s limits, and whoever designed this talisman probably hadn’t accounted for all the punishment he’d put it through.

At least he could get the repair one replaced, but besides that whatever the suit had now was what it was stuck with. Even trying to scrape away the old stone myself with a chisel, only resulted in a sore hoof. No more modifications, no upgrades, no more tinkering… what he had now was what he’d have to live with.

“Did the trick and saved my skin…” Wild chuckled for a moment, and I knew that was another thanks to Tungsten he gave.

As did from the Paladin not giving out his real name apparently… hard to hunt a pony down when all you know of them is a code name and what kind of armaments their packing. Given what the suit was hauling around and what he’d done to their ranks. There really weren’t many I would imagine that would want to track him down anymore.

I did get him to only wear it now out on patrol, or when he was helping the town a bit with those odd jobs. So ponies could see him for his real face, at least in town he’d be safe. Anything he encountered outside our boarders didn’t really last all that long.

With a heavy hoof he pressed the panel back down, and sighed. He put his heart and soul into taking care of the thing, it was as much an extension of his body as his own horn. I knew Wild wanted to do more with it, make it stronger, better armor, even checked out any lead he might have on old M.W.T. shipments to repair that damaged section. Those attempts all became fruitless, but in the end anything he did find at least wouldn’t fall into other rangers’ hooves. To me, he’d already done enough, and our knight (in very dinged up armor) would more than suffice.

Together we tiptoed closer to the back staircase, and with a far more silent hoof he trotted down to the basement. Far past what it once was when I first showed him, the room all to our kin almost made Spade jealous when she’d stop by. It had an extra cot or two, but past that we made sure to clean it up right… especially once he was back, and we had another mouth to feed.

Wild inched closer to the sleeping filly, night patrols were usually his thing to do… though he made sure to stop in and see her before going to bed himself. Every time he did, I just watched from afar along the stairs. The smile that grew the longer he sat there with his kin was infectious, though mine was always cut short when I got him in this dim light.

Seeing everything that had happened.

His foreleg was too mangled for that last Hydra shot to reattach; all we could do was forge a replacement. Crudely attached to his sump with a few straps. It wasn’t pretty, but Tinker didn’t shy away from it when she was born. That’s all she’d known her father for having, and to her it was still as much a flesh and blood leg as his other one, as he rested both gingerly on her bed.

Both his hind legs hadn’t fared much better in the fight, and between the Elder and that Sentry. Each of them were nothing more than nubs of where his legs once were. The skeletal Power Armor frame from Taffies suit was enough to get him moving, and after much tinkering, let him slide into the actual suit even with it attached. Though just like upstairs, it wasn’t perfect, and would still have a hissy fit at times.

Across the rest of him I watched those other scars to the journey he made dance in the low flame of the lantern. His raw shoulder still hadn’t grown a hair that fully matched the rest of his coat, all thanks to Barrel. It might have been time getting to it, and the journey back, but in the last few years spending too much time on it set the joint aflame… nothing a massage and some Med-X couldn’t help at least.

Other things were a bit fickler. The work the rangers had done on him in captivity might have faded, although those tracing scars like a lightning strike still stood out against his coat. Somethings just never healed, and wouldn’t till the end of his days. Not to mention the loss of feeling along those scars that he noticed the more time he’d spent actually out of the suit.

I needed to stop staring… but no matter how much time passed, or how many times I saw them. I could only remind myself of the price he paid. “Shall we?” I asked.

And got a silent nod in return, as he leaned in planting a kiss atop Tinkers head. With a more cautious step, we both edged ourselves up the stairs and across the repair bays on to the main dwelling. Our room wasn’t that far behind, and with a creek to the door we stepped inside.

There wasn’t much that had changed over time from us taking over this room. Maybe a few more tools lying around, but that was largely it. Hell, I already had some of those on my little table on the side of the bed. He however, had his own memorabilia. The coffee mug I recognized, its abbreviation still as clear as day when I first saw it in moms’ drawer. I knew very well who it was a reminder for her of, after hearing about him so much… and here I am sharing a bed with the colt.

A picture lying without its frame of a life he once lived, one that all lead to this, and likely saved him in the end. I’m surprised he didn’t want to go back to work and check it out more, his badge did still function after all. Alas, it must have been his own sign of respect for those he worked with… ones that he never knew if they were selected for a stable.

The memory orb though, Wild just asked that I didn’t view it… I still did mind you while he was out one day… hey! It was there, and tempting me for weeks before I finally caved. Though after viewing it finally, I didn’t question any more as to why he kept that Gunner necklace and the note with it.

Some part of me thinks he knew I took a peak.

“Last I heard there’s some raiders who decided to call that stable home for now,” he broke my train of thought.

“Should have left it full of ghouls,” I offered that rebuttal, though we did get some good parts out of clearing it finally.

With a shake of his head though, both of us slid a bit under the blankets. Somehow no matter how many times you wash these things, they always smelled like faded mold. “I’m more worried about the wasteland getting a little too close to our slice of it…”

Ahh so this is where he’s going with it… any time there was a scare of the guns firing off at anything past a bug, Wild always started to cringe and go out for more walks of the land. It wasn’t healthy, but it did give him peace of mind… something I usually ended up doing this time of night anyway.

A quick kiss to his lips made his hind legs almost jump on their own, and I held the contact just a bit longer. “The wasteland can get as crazy at it’d like… as long as you’ve made this part of it a little better, that’s good enough for me,” I said after breaking the contact, and leaving him speechless. “Good enough for all of us.”

He’d done enough as it is… there were some ponies who would happily stay in their stable till they died, and while Wild might not have had the choice. He still could have had a far easier life in the ranks of the Steel Rangers.

Although, an easy life isn’t what made things better. Ponies like himself that threw their wellbeing to the wind for the benefit of others did… no matter the cost. For as much as I might cringe at seeing the cost he’d paid for making this slice better.

I knew if given the chance, he’d do it all over again.

Those were the kinds of ponies Equestria needed, and if he could do his part… then there had to be others willing to do the same. “The sun will shine once more, Wildfire,” I purred at him a bit more seductively than I intended… there was more than one cot downstairs after all. Alas I can save that for another day. I watched his worry melt away a bit at those words, and return with the same smile I saw back when we’d first met. As much as he might have gotten called it before, and never liked falling under the label. After everything that’s happened, he’s more than earned the title in my book, “and that’s a promise I can make… Ranger.”

Author's Note

Alas... we've come to the end. It's been a blast writing this one, and I enjoyed all of your feedback in the comments! I really did debate if I was going to end Wild or not... though it came down to a coin toss.

Either way, I think it's a good send off for him, and thank you all for following his journey