https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQmIBHObtCs

John eyed the dozens of ponies in front of him for several seconds. The tension in the air blanketed the entire town, leaving most of the ponies nervously glancing back and forth with each other as they blocked John's path. A hushed silence reigned over everypony present as they waited for John to make the first move.

John's gaze slowly swept over the crowd, looking for the biggest threats among the ponies as well as the quickest route to Tempest. He counted twenty one unicorns, thirteen pegasi, and thirty earth ponies. They only had a few spears and improvised weapons made from farming equipment among them all. John quickly glanced behind him, finding another half dozen ponies at his rear, all unarmed, but two of the bulky stallions looked poised to pounce on him.

Quickly looking back to the crowd, John found that the ponies still in front of him were very slowly advancing, albeit fearfully. His grip tightened on his shotgun's pistol grip as the crowd closed in from the front. The air itself felt thick and heavy as the tension reached its fever pitch. John only heard the sound of hooves scraping on the dirt from behind him, and he instantly reacted.

John dove to the side, narrowly dodging the earth pony stallion charging him from behind. He quickly rolled back to his knees and shouldered his shotgun, pointing it straight at the stallion's chest. Time froze for the pony as a look of horror adorned his face, only to contort into one of pain as John fired, and knocked him to the ground. The concussive blast made every pony in the crowd jump and cover their ears, but that only gave John more time to pick targets.

Turning to the ponies previously behind him, John fired five more shots, striking each of them in the chest or barrel, and knocking them to the ground. He quickly whirled back around to the ponies still blocking his way to Tempest, finding that many of them were already turning tail and running back to their houses. The roughly two dozen that stayed, wasted no more time once they were over the shock of the first round's fired, and rushed toward John.

Two pegasi took to the sky, while the three remaining unicorns stayed in the back, preparing whatever spells they knew that could be of some use against the human. Meanwhile, John aimed at the two closest earth ponies and fired his last two shells off. The closest pony was knocked back and fell to the ground, while the second only staggered from the shot, but continued to rush John. With speed and precision, John rotated the shotgun in the pocket of his shoulder, grabbed another shell and slapped it into the chamber, before smacking the bolt release and chambering the shell.

The charging stallion's eyes widened in fear as John reshouldered the shotgun and aimed straight at his chest. A blinding flash of light and concussion sent the stallion tumbling to the ground, clutching his chest as he wheezed in pain.

With his weapon empty once more, John fished into his pocket and retrieved a handful of shells. He quickly pushed himself to his feet just as a beam of magic flashed right past him. He ducked down and retreated as several more beams fired all around him, while hastily reloading his shotgun. Just as he managed to load the third shell into the gun, one of the pegasi swooped down and slammed into his back, knocking him to the ground and sending his extra shells flying.

The quickly approaching ponies rushed to get to John before he could get his hands on his shotgun once more, but he managed to grab the pistol grip just as the first stallion reached him. John rolled onto his back and fired straight into the stallion's belly and knocking his legs out from under him. With a howl of pain, the stallion rolled on the ground, clutching his gut.

"Above you!" Tempest cried out, before Malt smacked her in the face with a backhoof.

"Keep your mouth shut, traitor!" He shouted, before turning back to the fight.

John gave Tempest a quick nod, but before he could get back to his feet, the second pegasus swooped in and tried to knock the shotgun from his hands once more. However, this time John was ready, and rolled out of the way just as the stallion slammed his hooves into the ground beside him, kicking up a cloud of dust. John quickly canted the shotgun in his grip and fired blindly into the dust cloud. His only assurance that he hit his target was the high pitched squeal of pain from the pegasus as he fell to the dirt.

Swiftly rolling to his side and pushing himself up to his knee, John glanced up at the remaining ponies around him. He only had an instant to react before another stallion swiped at his head with a spear held in one of his hooves. John just barely ducked under the staff of the spear as he rotated the shotgun in his hands, effectively holding it like a baseball bat. Once he got back up, he swung the buttstock of the shot gun in a wide arc, smacking it against the stallion's head and knocking him out cold.

John rolled the shotgun back around in his hands, before noticing an unfired shell laying on the ground in front of him. He quickly grabbed the yellow shell and loaded it into the gun, before looking up just in time to see two more ponies charge him. He hastily shouldered the shotgun and fired at the one on the left, sending the stallion tumbling, before the mare on the right slammed her wither into his shoulder and knocked him to the ground. John's shotgun fell to the ground just a few feet away from him, but before he could attempt to grab it, another stallion kicked the weapon away, forcing John to grab the next available weapon before him.

Just as John grabbed the fallen spear off of the ground, another pony armed with a second spear, swung at his face. John brought his own spear up vertically, blocking the incoming blow just a few scant inches from his nose. Without giving the fearful stallion a chance to swing again, John pushed himself to his feet and kicked the stallion in the face, dazing him momentarily.

While that pony was stumbling back, John spun on his heels and swung the spear in a wide arc, smacking the mare to his right on the top of her head with the back end of the shaft. Without missing a beat, he swept the blade to the side, slapping the stallion beside her in the face with the flat side of the steel. Both ponies stumbled back from the hits, giving John time to hold the spear horizontally in his hands and rush forward, catching both ponies by the throat and slamming them into the house behind them.

John held both ponies against the wooden structure, all eight of their hooves dangling several inches above the ground below as they sputtered and struggled for air. As John held them in place, a beam of magic slammed into his back, making him grunt in pain. Slowly, so very slowly, John turned his head and glared at the unicorn mare who's horn was still smoking just a few dozen feet away. She audibly gulped before turning around and galloping away on shaky legs. With that, John released the two ponies trapped against the house, unceremoniously dropping them to the ground as they coughed air back into their lungs.

Hearing quickly approaching hoofsteps from behind, John turned and adjusted his grip to swing the spear in an upward arc, just narrowly missing the pony as they skidded to a stop just in front of him. With his new angle, John gave a downward swing, smacking the back of the pony's head with the flat side of the blade and nearly shoving their muzzle into the dirt. Then he thrust forward with the blunt tip of the end of the shaft, smacking the pony's forehead and making them stumble back a step.

Finally, John spun on his feet once more while adjusting his grip much like he'd done with his shotgun, and swung the spear in a wide arc. The center point of the staff slammed into the side of the pony's head so hard that the wooden spear snapped in half from the force of the impact, and sent the pony straight to the dirt, unconscious. John threw down the broken spear, before he heard charging hoofsteps behind him once more.

John spun to the side, just narrowly dodging the spear thrust from the previously dazed stallion. He grabbed the shaft with his right hand, then further down with his left, essentially walking his way down the spear. He pulled with his left hand, as he stepped forward, and shot out his elbow, smashing in the stallion's snout and knocking him down to his haunches as he let out a cry of pain. Now with the spear fully in his grasp, John eyed the remaining pony's still presenting a threat. All of them looked at him with terror in their eyes, and with a feral growl, John snapped the second spear on his knee, making all of the ponies jump.

"F-forget this!" One mare cried as she turned tail and ran.

"There's no way we're beating him!" Another shouted as she also fled.

"I think he broke Snowbell's muzzle!" A lanky stallion exclaimed.

John took two steps forward before the remaining ponies scattered and fled, dropping their weapons or spells as they galloped away to their houses. As they ran, John surveyed the street, finding many of the ponies still laying on the ground and rolling about in pain. His gaze quickly flicked back up to the platform, finding Malt still standing his ground with Tempest tied to the post beside him. He was visibly sweating and wide eyed from the display.

John looked down to the ground, finding his shotgun just a few feet away. He walked toward the weapon and quickly picked it up before fishing more shells out of his pocket. He walked toward Malt with a frown on his face as he loaded four shells into the shotgun, the sight alone making Malt wince.

"N-now mister Smith, I think we can be reasonable here..." Malt announced, his voice cracking several times as John reached the edge of the platform.

John simply held the same expression as he walked up the steps to the stage. Once he reached the platform, Malt staggered back several feet until he was just an arm's length away from Tempest.

"J-John, we can come to an understanding, I'm sure." Malt offered, a nervous grin on his face as John continued to approach.

"What if I offered you an all expenses paid trip to... Tartarus!" Malt exclaimed as his horn ignited and a beam of bright white light shot out, aiming straight for John's face.

John swiftly ducked his head to the side, narrowly dodging the beam of energy and pointing his shotgun right at Malt's face in the process. Malt reacted by casting a shield bubble spell around himself and Tempest just as John fired a blast from his gun. The shield held firm, only to be pelted by the rest of John's shotgun ammo, forming a visible crack just in the center. Malt winced with each shot, his horn pulsing with energy as it struggled to block the power of a twelve guage.

Without giving Malt a chance to recover the shield, John threw the shotgun to the ground and drew his Glock 17 from his waistband. He fired once, sending another crack all the way across the shield as Malt struggled to keep his mana field from snapping under the strain. John fired again and again, forming a spiderweb of cracks all along the shield until finally, after nine rounds, the shield shattered, and Malt stumbled back, his horn fizzling out with a shower of sparks.

John quickly cocked his arm back and threw his pistol as hard as he could at the stallion, smacking him right in the face and knocking him to the floor. John quickly rushed the stallion as he tried to get back to his hooves, before sweeping his legs out from under him, and dropping Malt to his belly. The now terrified stallion looked up to John in horror, blood flowing freely from his nostrils and the new cut directly under his horn.

John stared down at the stallion, his fists clenched in anger, however, he slowly released the tension in his hands, and let his shoulders slump some as he caught his breath.

"It's over. Go back to your home and don't follow us. The next time you see me, I'll kill you. I'll kill all of you." John growled, his brow deeply furrowed as he stared Malt down.

Malt hastily nodded his head as he held up his forelegs placatingly, "O-okay... whatever you want."

John gave a single nod, "Go. Now." He ordered.

Without another word, the stallion scrambled to his hooves and bolted for his house just a little further down the street. John watched Malt all the way until the stallion scampered into his doorway and slammed the door shut behind him. With a satisfactory nod, John turned around and made his way over to Tempest, observing the rest of the ponies still in the street as they rolled about, clutching their wounds and bruises.

Now that he was actually close to the mulberry unicorn, John could see the actual extent of the damage she'd sustained. Heavy bruising on one side of her face, combined with dirt matted all over her fur and cheek were heavy indicators that she was beaten into the dirt, and then beaten some more. One of her eyes was completely swollen shut, and the other had a broken blood vessel. Her hoodie was ripped in several places, especially around her cast, which also appeared to have been cracked several times and matted with dirt.

As John arrived at her side, he reached into his other pocket and pulled out his knife. He opened the switchblade and set to work cutting the ropes binding her to the post in the center of the pyre.

"You need to stop getting yourself into these kinds of situations." John muttered, with a smirk.

"I'll... try to keep that in mind, next time." Tempest replied, no small amount of gratitude in her voice as she was quickly freed from her bonds.

Once she was free from the rope, John knelt down to her level, his gaze soft.

"Listen, about what happened between us-" He started, but stopped as Tempest lunged at him, her good hoof wrapping around his shoulder as she buried her muzzle into his neck and hugged him tightly.

She trembled as she held onto John as if he were her only tether to the ground itself. Soft sniffles soon became harsh, and after just a few moments, she sobbed into John's neck. The contact left John speechless yet again, and he simply stared down at the distraught unicorn, his mouth slightly agape, for some time. Eventually, he wrapped his arms around her barrel and wither, pulling her into a gentle hug that she eagerly accepted.

For a few minutes, they simply held each other, the contact as comforting as it was foreign. John softly stroked his hand through Tempest's disheveled mane, the soft bristles playing through his fingers as they sprang back up to their natural resting position. Tempest only squeezed him tighter in thanks as she shook in his warm embrace.

Eventually, they pulled away enough to look into each other's eyes, although they stayed in each other's arms.

"You... you came for me... why?" Tempest asked, her voice just a whisper.

John rubbed small circles on her wither with his thumb, "I made a promise. No harm would come to you under my watch. I keep my promises." He answered, softly.

Tempest slowly looked down to her disheveled appearance, before looking back up to John and cocking her good eyebrow back, "You sure about that?" She asked.

John gave her a deadpan look, "You know what I meant." He smirked.

Tempest held his gaze for a few seconds before a small grin formed on her face as well. She let out a giggle, prompting John to quietly chuckle with her. The quiet air filled with the sounds of their soft laughter, and for a short while, they only enjoyed the moment, content to hold and be held as the night warmth of the now flaming pyre kept the nighttime chill at bay.

As with all things, it was not destined to last, and they both relaxed once more. John looked into Tempest's good eye, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as he thought over the right words, but before he could speak, she spoke up first.

"I... I'm sorry. For running away. I just... well, you know." She admitted, her gaze falling to the floor.

John gently cupped her chin with his thumb and index finger, guiding her gaze back up to his. However, instead of the disappointed gaze or even harsh glare Tempest expected, John simply looked down at her with an undeniable softness in his eyes.

"I understand... and I'm sorry too. I was wrong to order your execution... I've been stuck in my old way of thinking for so long that I thought you were irredeemable. That... wasn't fair of me. Not when I've made mistakes too." John responded.

Tempest stared back at John with a slightly slack jawed expression, "W-what do you mean?" She asked, hesitantly.

"I've made mistakes too... killed people that didn't deserve to die. When I was cornered and about to die, Harmony saved me and brought me here. I guess I got to thinking... if I got a second chance after the wrongs I've done... why shouldn't you? So I'm sorry. I should've given you a second chance like I was given." John elaborated.

Tempest took a few moments to take John's words in. Her mind raced as the implications whirled about in her brain, and as her brow furrowed, she glanced down to the floor once more. Eventually, she felt a strange feeling of elation in her chest. Almost as if she could suddenly breathe easier, despite the bruising her ribs sustained just minutes prior. She looked up to John, a moment of silence hanging in the air between them, before she finally responded.

"T-thank you... for saying that. I guess you aren't just a machine after all." She quietly chuckled.

"Last I checked, at least." John replied, a small smile on his face.

Several groans of pain suddenly caught Tempest's ears, and she looked over to the scene of carnage in front of the platform, finding all of the ponies John fought to get to her, struggling back to their houses. She tilted her head to the side in confusion, before looking over to John and finding that he was also looking at the injured ponies as they retreated.

"You... didn't kill them?" She asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

John shook his head, "I tried not to kill any of them. Some are hurt worse than others, but they should all make a full recovery." He offered.

"B-but... how? I've seen you kill creatures three times their size with your weapons. How did you not kill any of them?" Tempest replied in bewilderment.

Rather than answer verbally, John reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the remaining yellow shells. He held it up for Tempest to inspect, while pulling one of the red shells out of his other pocket.

"Bean bag rounds. Meant to incapacitate, not kill," John explained, before holding up the red shell for Tempest, "Buckshot. For killing whatever you need to kill."

Tempest looked at the two shells before her with clear interest. After a few moments to read the lettering on the sides of the shells that confirmed John's explanation, she looked up to the human with a small smirk.

"So you do have a non-lethal mode." She teased, receiving a snort of amusement from John.

"On occasion," John answered, before putting the shells back into his pockets and pushing himself to his feet, "Can you walk?" He asked.

Tempest moved her casted foreleg slightly, before giving John a small shrug, "Well luckily they weren't able to do much more than twist my foreleg a bit. The cast took pretty much all of the damage, so I don't think they rebroke anything. It doesn't hurt any more than it did before to put weight on it or anything. I just don't have a crutch anymore."

John gave a sympathetic nod, "We'll figure something out. For now, let's just get back to that Inn."

Tempest arched her eyebrow, "Are you seriously saying we should stay the night here? After what you just did to the ponies in town?" She questioned, a stark amount of disbelief in her voice.

"It's not like we have anywhere else to go for the night. Besides, what are they gonna do? Ask us to leave?" John smirked.

Tempest giggled as she shook her head, "I suppose they wouldn't want to earn your ire twice in one night." She replied.

"Then that's the plan. Come on, some sleep will hopefully help heal that foreleg enough for you to actually walk on your own." John said as he walked over to pick up his pistol and shotgun.

Once his weapons were secure, John helped Tempest walk down the steps of the platform and through the now vacant street. Orange light from the pyre easily lit the way for the duo as the broken unicorn leaned most of her weight against his thigh. Within a few minutes, they found themselves at the front door of the Inn, and although the lights were still on, there was no sign of Sea Breeze. Without a word, John opened the door and ushered Tempest inside, before leading her over to the staircase heading up to their room.

Tempest sluggishly made her way up the steps while John patiently walked behind her, ensuring the she didn't fall or stumble. Soon enough, they reached the top of the staircase and stepped into their room. John quickly closed and locked the door behind him, as well as place a chair under the door handle to prevent any chance of somepony breaking in. Lastly, he went into the bathroom and closed the window, ensuring to lock the latches on the frame, just in case.

With that, John walked back into the room to find Tempest already laying down on her bed.

"Before you go to sleep, take the hoodie off." John ordered, receiving a wide eyed stare of confusion from the mulberry mare.

"Uh... w-why?" She asked.

"To make sure you aren't bleeding or hurt anywhere else." John replied, sitting on the bed, just beside her.

Tempest gave a small nod and got to her haunches. She attempted to remove the hoodie, but quickly found the task almost impossible with only one good hoof. After a few moments of her struggling, John reached over and helped slip the hoodie off of her head and forelegs, exposing several nasty cuts and bruises all along her barrel. Tempest wilted slightly under John's wondering eyes, but he quickly found a spot on her back that needed attention.

"Looks like a pretty deep cut. Could probably use some stitches." John announced, before grabbing his duffle back and fishing out some sutures.

John sat down on the bed again, motioning for Tempest to come closer and face her back to him. She closed her eyes and winced as John pricked the first suture just below her wither. He worked quickly, and soon enough the wound was sutured up nicely.

"Alright, you should wash that blood off and then get some rest." John explained as he put his stitches away.

"Well... I can't exactly reach my back right now," Tempest replied, looking over her wither, before an idea forced its way into her mind, "Unless... you want to help." She suggested, a blush forming on her face.

John shrugged, "Sure."

Author's Note

Did you really think I would have John kill ponies? Nah. At least, not yet. Who knows for the future?