A/N
This was inspired by an image I found on google of a humanized Pinkie at Twilight’s grave. For some odd reason, I was particularly touched, and driven to write this. You will most likely find this image by googling ‘Twi Pie’ and clicking the first result (Tumblr).
Enjoy
—
As the sun finally began to dip below the far distant mountains, it casted an orange glow over the land. At this moment of the day’s closing, at the conclusion of a quiet spring’s day, the only sight to be seen in the rolling hills and winding roads outside Ponyville was a lone woman. She rested on her knees, calm and unmoving, before a lone headstone. A gentle breeze stroked her cheek, causing a slight chill on the thin trail of tears running down her features. The woman’s eyes, much like the tiny box she held and caressed in her hands, were closed. Unperturbed by the diminishing hour, the pink-haired woman of no older than twenty-five remained motionless, deep in thought. Her straight, candy-colored hair ran almost a quarter of the way down her back, and concealed a portion of her face. They had only been a few weeks ago, the best days of her life. Everything had been in perfect order for her.
Only a few weeks ago, she had been the bubbly spirit that those around her had grown to hold dear. Hard times never troubled her, and likewise, there was no friend of hers that would ever go through difficulties without her always being right behind them, ready to help in any way she could. Usually, that was was humor. Laughter. Parties. Merriment. She always had a smile on her face, no matter the time or place.
Yes, only mere weeks ago Pinkamena Diane Pie had been the happiest person in Equestria. That was before the incident, of course. In one quick moment, the blink of an eye, everything changed. Pinkie’s life was devastated in under a second. That smile that was always on her face became but a forgotten memory. The friends she knew and loved became distant strangers as she secluded herself in her sorrow. It was no hardship that she could simply laugh her way through. There was no party or gift to fix everything. It was a life-crushing thing, total and irreversible. Such a happy face had been permanently reduced to one of silent anguish. The worst part of it all?
It was all her fault.
—
Canterlot, several weeks earlier…
Pinkie and Twilight ran and laughed as the jubilant, cotton-haired women held the studious one’s hand, leading them out of the last club. Twilight had built up a considerable amount of stress over the last couple of months. After all, she was preparing the biggest report of her life for the Princess. It was the final culmination of all her years of tutelage. A series of essays that could fill at least a few books was the end product. The purple-haired woman had poured her heart and soul in the composition of the grand work, forgetting the entire world around her for a short time. Even after she’d finished revising the colossal project and sent it off, her days were filled with grim anticipation. She’d always been an academic pessimist, something that Pinkie intended to remedy.
To celebrate the completion of her compilation, Pinkie had taken Twilight to Canterlot for a few days of partying and all-around merrymaking. When Twilight had first heard Pinkie’s eager suggestion, she was supremely excited. While still absorbed in her anxiety at the time, she had identified that some method of stress relief was required. And who better to do it with than the woman she had fallen in love with?
The pair had been in the city for three days on the night of the incident. They had arrived just at the beginning of the weeklong spring festivities of old that had been revived by the recently returned Princess Luna. Over those three days, they had attended no small number of celebrations and events. They had experienced a wide range of activities, including dances, parades, carnival rides, and nightclubs. There was not a dull minute with those two during their trip. Twilight’s anxiety melted away under the unparalleled joy of attending the festivities with Pinkie, and the woman’s incomparable jubilant attitude.
The night of the incident was on the third day, in the wee hours of the morning. Twilight and Pinkie had been enjoying going wild - and possibly a bit drunk - at all of Canterlot’s most popular clubs, especially those with roomier dance floors. Pinkie led Twilight out of the last club of the day by her hand, both of them laughing all the way. Rain poured on the city’s streets, but neither of the exuberant pair seemed bothered by it. The hotel they had booked for their stay in the Equestrian capital was right across the street from the club they had just vacated.
Visibility that early morning was atrocious. One could barely see a few feet ahead of them through the intense downpour and blackness of the night. A single street crossing stood between the pair and their hotel, and sweet, sweet rest. Vehicles rushed through the intersection with no heed for whatever bystander, drunk or sober, might be attempting to cross. Of course, Pinkie and Twilight were noticeable. Both of them had multiple glowstick necklaces on from the last few clubs, and they were both quick runners. Pinkie was faster, but Twilight could also be fleet-footed when she needed to.
Pinkie led them across the street, grasping Twilight’s hand all the way. But just as they were about to reach the other side, the pink-haired woman no longer felt her lover’s hand in her own. She turned around, startled, and was filled with abject horror. Cars came to a screeching halt around an unmoving body on the sidewalk, struck with some great force. Pinkie rushed to her friend and lover, and when she was unable to elicit even a single twitch from the purple-haired woman, a steady flow of tears ran down her face. She cradled the limp Twilight in her arms, weeping and crying out in desperation. The longer she sat there, bathed in the headlights of surrounding vehicles and the torrential rain, the greater the river of tears grew.
“Twilight! Twilight! Say something! Please!”
Nothing.
—
Outskirts of Ponyville, present day
As she had done many days before, the woman once filled with joy and laughter remained in quiet contemplation before the headstone of the woman that had once meant the world to her. No. She still meant the world to her. As the sun finally descended below the horizon, Pinkie gingerly opened the case she had so carefully guarded since the beginning of her Canterlot trip with Twilight. She carefully placed it before the headstone, on a modest bed of lavender. In the fuzzy box was but a single item: a stunning diamond ring.
There was a time where its use would’ve heralded a time of new happiness for Pinkie, but having lost its purpose, it now became a part of her memorial to her dearly departed. A small smile manage to pierce the wall of despair that had held back Pinkie’s expression for so long as she reached into her coat. She withdrew two items: a wrapped cupcake of pink and purple striped frosting, and a photo. With her left hand, Pinkie held the photo close to her bosom. It was her and Twilight only hours before her untimely death.
The woman opened her eyes, and held the cupcake up to her face. As twilight began to set upon the land, she mustered the will to take a single bite. Almost immediately, she began to choke, and collapsed beside the headstone, her eyes staring out at the sun whose rays barely peered up over the horizon.
As the former symbol of happiness took her last breaths, a short few words escaped her lips. With that, her modest smile grew to become a grin, and she shut her eyes. Her chest rose, then fell. And nothing more. She would be alone no longer.
And twilight took the land and the woman, just as she had taken Twilight.
“I love you, my little bookworm.”
