With everything Sunset needed to do, time was a very limited commodity. While waiting to hear from Princess Twilight about what their next move was, there were plenty of other things she could accomplish.

Every time she finally got a chance to be away from Equestria, she felt inclined to check up on all the girls on an individual level. She spent so much time away, so that was her chance to see exactly how life has been for them since she’s been gone. Admittedly, it felt like an obligation, but she missed them so much when she was away. Even with that in mind, she couldn’t bring herself to do it this time.

It was the same reason she couldn’t bring herself to actually start fixing Rarity’s rental like she said she would. The same reason that stopped her from answering the abundance of text messages she received upon her other friends learning she was back in town. The same reason she’d spent an indeterminate amount of time laid out on her couch, listening to the raindrops against the window nearby.

Every time she tried to get up, her efforts would be defeated by a single question: why bother?

Her entire body felt lifeless, and her brain buzzed with myriad thoughts that all screamed over each other. She felt paralyzed by exhaustion. The chaotic first few days back from Equestria had finally caught up with her.

When Sunset stumbled through the portal this time around, she didn’t even have time to get adjusted to being bipedal again. Traveling between the dimensions was always a little disorienting, and the anxiety she had coming through this time compounded with that. Her first minute back was spent trying not to vomit while Rainbow Dash frantically explained the situation. And within the second minute, she was already barking orders like she’d been there the whole time.

That pace was sustained up until the morning before. Then, things slowed down after Lightning Dust took off. Then, Sunset and Princess Twilight spent nearly an entire day writing back and forth. But, as physically and mentally taxing as all that had been, they were only minor parts of why Sunset felt like such a husk.

After Sunset received Princess Twilight’s last message, the finality of her situation truly set in. If everything went according to plan, this would be the end of a long and grueling journey. The wheels were turning, and while that inspired some semblance of hope, it filled Sunset with an equal amount of despair.

Sunset tried to keep telling herself: this was for her friends; the people she cherished more than anything in any world. And even if it wasn’t for them, it was the right thing to do. That’s what Sunset always tried to do, and afterwards, that would become her legacy. That should have brought her peace.

But the nobility of her cause no longer offered any comfort. Truthfully, it hadn’t for a while, but it hadn’t made her resentful until then.

Sunset’s confrontation with Rarity continued to burn at the back of her brain. She’d already conceded that Rarity had a point, and that should have been enough for her to move on. But no matter what she told herself, the whole thing still bothered her.

That bitterness was matched by the anger it inspired in Sunset at herself. There was no reason good enough to waste time on a petty grudge. Regardless of Rarity’s late arrival leading to things becoming as dire as they were, at the heart of it, it ultimately wasn’t her fault they were in this situation. Even if it was, blame didn’t change anything.

That didn’t stop Sunset from brooding about it, though. Rarity’s whining about being tethered to their old high school replayed over and over in her mind. It wasn’t fair. Sunset never wanted it to be that way. Beyond that, Sunset had even less freedom to do what and go where she wanted, but she never complained.

In fact, instead of complaining, she’d spent years tirelessly and pointlessly working to find a solution, dropping everything at a moment’s notice when her friends needed her. Their dreams, their hopes, their futures; that’s what mattered, and Sunset put her entire life on pause to give them a chance at those things. And while she was closer than ever to righting the mistake she made at the Fall Formal so many years ago, she knew that victory would still feel empty.

Sunset had known this was a possibility since the beginning—that she would do all this work for an unsatisfying ending—but she’d come to terms with it.

Or so she thought.

At one point, she genuinely believed that if it came down to this, she’d be ready. After sitting with it for so long, she thought she would become too familiar with it to be bothered by it. Yet the day she always thought she’d be prepared for, but hoped would never come, was right around the corner. This was time for pragmatism, not self-pity.

So, then, why was she lying down, silent tears streaming down her face? What happened to all that conviction? She was supposed to be inoculated to her own emotions over this. Yet, as the moment drew nearer, the veil on Sunset’s mental preparation lifted, revealing she’d only been dwelling on her own fear the whole time instead. Every word she said to herself about “doing the right thing” was hollow, and part of her always knew it was. Agonizing all alone, away from her friends for so long, and for what?

Staring up at the ceiling, she hoped that an alternate solution would fall through and hit her in the face. If not that, she hoped the journal on her desk would buzz, and Princess Twilight would have written “Good news!” followed by the kind of answer she’d been desperate for. One that didn’t involve so many unknowns, one that would make everyone happy in the end, one that she’d get to celebrate with her friends about.

But this was reality. From a young age, Sunset learned reality had it out for her. By now, she’d learned not to get her hopes up. If there were any fast, easy solutions, she and/or Princess Twilight would have found them by now. This was the only option left. It was now or never. Not do or die; just do.

Sunset jumped at the sound of a knock on her door. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, clearing her throat as quietly as she could. Getting close to the blank TV, she examined her face. It was hard to see the details in her reflection through the layer of dust the screen had collected, but it was enough. Her eyes were red, but she hadn’t slept a full night since she arrived from Equestria, so that was a given. She had an excuse. Hopefully, that would suffice for an answer in case whoever was at the door asked.

Rubbing her cheeks with her sleeve, she cleared her throat again. She sharply exhaled upon hearing a second knock.

“Hold up!” she finally called.

She silently lamented at how nasally she sounded from crying. If they asked, she would just say it was allergies.

Sunset wasn’t sure who she was expecting to see when she opened the door, but she probably should have guessed.

“Twilight?”

“I left work early today,” she said, walking into Sunset’s apartment without an invite.

Another pit of dread fell into Sunset’s stomach. She was still going to try and lie about her disheveled appearance, but selling Twilight on her excuses would be significantly harder than anyone else.

“Huh,” Sunset dumbly replied.

Twilight spoke faster than Sunset could keep up with, walking over to the couch without even looking at her.

“When I was at lunch, I met up with a friend from middle school I hadn’t seen in years, and that encounter made me realize what a waste of time it is to try and work while everything is going on, and because of how potentially dire our situation may be, I should come over and–”

A sniffle from Sunset was all it took to bring Twilight’s monologue to a halt. She walked back to Sunset and looked her in the eye.

“You’ve been crying, haven’t you?”

It felt like a bright spotlight was pointed directly at Sunset’s face.

“Huh? No, it’s just allergies. I haven’t been on this side of the portal in a while, you know how I get.” Sunset offered a crooked smile.

Unfortunately, Twilight didn’t look convinced. “Allergies?”

Sunset wasn’t about to give up though. “What?”

“Sunset, please. After everything we’ve been through lately–”

“I’m serious, Twilight. It’s just allergies. There’s nothing wrong, and even if there was, I don’t want to interrupt you.”

“It’s not that important. Besides, I know you. You have to be high strung after everything. You don’t have to pretend you’re not having as hard of a time as the rest of us are.”

“Yeah,” Sunset dryly replied. “But I’m kind of the reason we’re having a hard time in the first place.”

“Sunset, come on–”

She was cut off by Sunset’s empty laugh. “And hey, can you remember the last time I wasn’t high strung? At this point, I’m used to it. It’s like my thing.”

Sunset realized how counterproductive that statement was to her point right after it left her. Shuffling through deflections in her head, Sunset finally surrendered to telling a half-truth.

“But, yeah, okay. You got me. Everything from the last few days kinda caught up to me at once today. But, really, I already had my meltdown before you came over, so we don’t need to focus on it. I’ll be fine. We don’t have time for me to whine, anyway.”

By now, Sunset should have learned the words “I’ll be fine” rarely ever worked on anyone, least of all her best friend.

Twilight huffed. “Saying ‘I’ll be fine’ implies that–”

“–I’m not fine,” Sunset completed. “I know, I’ve heard this one before.”

“Well, if you’ve ‘heard this one before,’ if you know, then why–”

“Because there’s no need to dwell on this. Like I said, I’ve already–”

“–had your meltdown,” Twilight interrupted. “But do you honestly feel any better? Does crying by yourself ever really help?”

Sunset quietly groaned. “Maybe not, but–”

“When was the last time you let it out around someone else?”

That question was harder to answer than Sunset wanted to admit, and the pause it took for her to respond was a dead giveaway of that fact. Twilight was quickly chipping away at her defense, but Sunset still wouldn’t budge.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really needed to.”

“Haven’t needed to, or haven’t let yourself?”

There was nothing Sunset could say to that. Both of them knew the answer.

“Twilight, can we please just not do this–”

Those were the only words Sunset could say before Twilight wrapped her in a tight hug. Before she could complete the rest of her deflection, a rush of warmth from Twilight flooded Sunset’s entire body. Sunset could talk around things all day, but touch was a method that seldom missed.

Still, even though Twilight’s sympathy was sincere, it hardly made Sunset feel any better. It just made her want to cry again. And as hard as she tried to resist, the tears began to flow. Sunset’s hand quickly concealed her eyes, as if in a last ditch effort to hide her feelings.

Twilight herded Sunset over to the couch. The moment they sat down, the remnants of Sunset’s façade completely fell away. It should have been a relief. After all, Twilight was right. While she’d been away, Sunset had broken down many times, but only when she was completely alone. But she knew how to handle herself better than almost anyone, so it was better to manage her own emotions and save everyone the trouble of dealing with her volatility.

And while it felt somewhat good to let it all out to Twilight, every bit of catharsis was underlined with twice as much guilt. Part of her sudden breakdown was definitely because of all the stress she was under, but there was a much bigger reason. Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell anyone what it was, Twilight least of all.

“Sorry.” Sunset breathed a chuckle between choked sobs, wiping her eyes. “I swear I’m almost done.”

“I’m not going anywhere, just let it out as much as you need to.”

There was comfort in that reassurance, but it just made Sunset feel worse. She had to get herself under control, but Twilight was making it so difficult. She couldn’t afford to spend any time feeling sorry for herself, and Twilight was enabling her.

Still, she went on and on. Sunset had broken down on her own on many occasions, sometimes for hours, but she couldn’t remember the last time it was this intense. Falling into hysterics was a draining affair, and Sunset was always plenty exhausted without the help of excess emotions.

As Twilight rubbed her back, Sunset steadily relaxed. When she finally stopped crying, she was dizzy and tired. It was hard to keep her eyes open, and she could barely breathe through her nose. She was typically so on edge, she’d forgotten what this kind of “out of it” felt like.

“I think I’m okay.” Sunset wiped her face with her sleeves. “I really appreciate you stopping by when you did. You’ve got great timing.”

With her hand still on Sunset’s back, Twilight smiled. “I don’t know about that. In this case, I think it’s just dumb luck. Besides, you’re the mind reader, not me.”

Sunset playfully scoffed. “With the way our powers have been acting up? It wouldn’t surprise me if they suddenly started overlapping, too.”

Twilight giggled, and a lull fell between them. Though she was staring at the floor, Sunset could feel Twilight shift around, her gaze wandering around the room. When Sunset looked up at her, Twilight was glancing over toward Sunset’s desk.

“Have you gotten any word from Princess Twilight?”

That sucked any warmth right out of the room. The way Twilight asked sounded less like curiosity, and more like she was trying to piece things together. That made Sunset deeply nervous.

“Yeah, she and the princesses are setting things up over there. Our orders are to sit tight and wait for orders. That’s where we’re at.”

Just as Sunset thought, Twilight started inching toward a conclusion.

“Does that mean you know exactly how the plan is supposed to work now?”

“Not really, no. The explanation I gave yesterday is all I’ve got until Princess Twilight gives me the word to hop through the portal. It’s just a waiting game until then.”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “Doesn’t that seem, I don’t know, kind of reckless? Shouldn’t we coordinate things so we have a greater chance of success?”

Holding back a sigh, Sunset attempted to sate her curiosity once again.

“That would be if there were anything to coordinate. But, more than likely, you and everyone else will just need to be near the portal when it’s time.”

“So, it’s still going to be you severing the connection between worlds, then?”

Sunset closed her eyes for a few seconds. She was far too tired to mask her emotions as well as she usually could, but she still tried.

“As far as I know, yeah. Sounds like it might be kind of fun, though. I’ve never seen what ‘The Sleeve’ looks like. Only Princess Twilight has. It’ll be cool to finally have a frame of reference for what ‘between worlds’ is like.”

This only fed Twilight’s need to interrogate further.

“Is it really that simple?” she asked. “Is it really just a matter of you hopping in, doing a spell, then jumping through the portal, and then we’re saved?”

Instead of answering, Sunset just raised an eyebrow at her.

“I mean, not that I’m questioning your research,” Twilight continued, “but I’m just really curious about how all of this works. It’s been a long time since I did any research on magic myself, but that explanation just seems so cut and dry.”

“It isn’t necessarily that simple, no, but that’s all anyone on this side really needs to know.”

“Why?”

Sunset’s nerves began to eat away at her patience. Twilight’s increasingly incredulous inquiries were getting irritating. Sunset was running out of ways to dodge, but she refused to give up.

“Because I don’t know how to explain everything by myself, and even if I could, I wouldn’t have time to go into detail, and it’d be pretty unnecessary anyway.”

“But shouldn’t we at least be a little more aware? What if something goes wrong and one of us needs to go in after you or something?” Twilight was getting more and more worked up. “I just don’t feel right flying into this so blindly, especially something this complex and full of unknowns. And even if it’s not that simple, why haven’t we done it sooner?”

“We haven’t done it because severing dimensional ties has always been a last resort.”

“And I understand that, but couldn’t we have done that, then let Princess Twilight and the others find a way to reconnect the worlds? After all, that’s not the only connection between our worlds, just the biggest one, right? Not only that, but she’s done it before.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to hear anything about magic unless we’re fighting it?” Sunset was getting dangerously close to snapping.

“Well, this is kind of different, isn’t it? If this is the answer we’ve been looking for, then I’m interested in how it’s all going to work, and I don’t think that should be an issue. We’re all going to be involved in this big “plan,” right? And considering I know more about how magic works on this side than anyone else, I figured you would at least explain to me what–”

“I’ve told you all you need to know,” Sunset stated firmly.

Twilight frowned. “But–”

“Princess Twilight will give me the orders when the time is right, and then I’ll let you know more. Any unnecessary details besides that will just complicate things, and we all need to be focused. This is only ‘cut and dry’ because it needs to be cut and dry. I have been thinking about this nonstop since before I even got here, so I would really appreciate it if we could talk about something else.”

Sunset internally kicked herself once she realized just how combative she sounded, and again when she saw Twilight shrink into herself.

“Sorry.”

“No- wait, Twilight, I-”

Sunset’s frustration grew. Her answer may have been terse, but Twilight reacted as if she’d been shouted at. Still, it wasn’t her fault. Twilight was naturally curious, and rightfully worried.

Seeing Twilight continue to shrivel into herself made Sunset’s heart sink. Putting her feelings aside, Sunset wrapped her arms around her. Twilight’s emotions struck her, and Sunset’s remorse deepened, but once the wave passed, she spoke up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bark. I know that answer sucks, but that’s really all I got.”

Thankfully, Sunset caught Twilight before she could spiral any further. She gradually relaxed, and both of them felt equally relieved.

“I guess if all we can do now is wait… do you want to do something?”

Truth be told, Sunset hardly felt like breathing, but she was almost always willing to make a concession for her best friend.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well, there’s an art exhibit running downtown I thought you might want to see,” she replied. “It’s not too far from CHS, so if we’re needed there at a moment’s notice, it won’t be hard to drop everything and get there.”

Again, Sunset’s immediate instinct was to say no. Even if it was close to the school, the idea of being preoccupied with anything before receiving word from Princess Twilight felt like asking for disaster. At the same time, Sunset had spent hours sulking in her apartment, and that wasn’t doing any good for her either.

Plus, she couldn’t remember the last time the two of them got to spend time together in a context outside of magic.

For the first time in a while, Sunset genuinely smiled. “Sure. Sounds better than moping around here.”

A warm smile spread across Twilight’s face as well. Sunset knew she should get up and get herself together, but she didn’t want to look away. Their potential impending demise notwithstanding, looking into Twilight’s eyes, seeing her smile, it made Sunset feel like things could be okay. Maybe the plan would go off without a hitch, and maybe if it did, they could finally share a normal life like any other pair of friends.

Eventually, Sunset shook herself from her wistful stupor. “Let me change clothes and get a few things together and we can be on our way.”

Twilight nodded. “I’m going to run to the bathroom while you do that.”

Standing up from the couch and making her way up to her loft, Sunset let out a deep sigh as quietly as she could. Truthfully, she just wanted to try and go back to sleep, but if her end was to be soon, she would rather go out knowing she made the most of the little time she had left.

Shuffling through the clothes in her dresser, she felt a certain melancholy creep into her mind. It’d been a while since high school graduation, yet she still had many of the same clothes she’d had since then. Even the shirts she bought most recently were years old by this point, yet had been worn and washed so few times they looked the same as the day she got them.

As she slipped her shirt over her head, Sunset paused, her eyes scanning the span of her apartment. She could see almost every part of it from the loft. It was then that she realized this was the longest she’d spent in her apartment in well over a year. Every time she came back, she couldn’t help but notice how much of a time capsule it had become, and the more time she spent there, the more apparent that feeling became.

Several years had passed in this world. Her friends had all moved into their own places. Their appearances as well as their living arrangements reflected not only their progress in life, but how much time had changed all of them.

Not Sunset’s, though. It was the same as it had always been.

Guitars hanging on the walls with rusty strings; unchanged since the halcyon days of The Rainbooms years ago. A game console that was so outdated it was soon to be two generations behind, sitting under a flat screen that hadn’t been powered on in who knows how long. Posters from bands who had probably released several albums she hadn’t listened to, assuming they hadn’t broken up while she was gone.

Sunset could see a pair of headlights from a car passing by outside, the light briefly beaming through her window. The streets of Canterlot City looked a little different. Even the unmoving roads and structures outside looked as though they’d changed with time.

Then she looked down at her shirt. A graphic band t-shirt she bought at a concert nearly a decade ago. There was a crude illustration of a firework exploding in someone’s face on it.

That caused a morbid thought to cross her mind: what was worse? Her potential fate, or being trapped in time the way she was?

Rather than give that the answer it didn’t deserve, Sunset pushed those thoughts away. As always, she didn’t have time to waste on things like that.

Throwing a bag over her shoulder, she gathered a few items scattered about her room and tossed them in. She looked around the loft, wondering where she put the journal. There weren’t that many places to look, but she still spent a few minutes looking under anything she could.

Suddenly, Sunset stopped.

The journal—left open to the most recent page—was on her desk.

Which sat close to the bathroom door.

Her heart stopped. When it started again, she could feel her pulse beating throughout her whole body. She rushed down the stairs, nearly falling as she did. As fast as she was, everything seemed to slow down. In the span of her extended perception of time, she hoped by some miracle that Twilight hadn’t noticed it sitting there.

But by now, she’d learned not to get her hopes up.

Sure enough, Twilight was standing right in front of it. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at the pages. When Twilight realized Sunset was there, she slowly turned. Her eyes were glistening with tears. She looked like someone had just stabbed her in the chest, and the pain still hadn’t caught up to the rest of her body.

A thousand different explanations and excuses flashed through Sunset’s head, but not a single one could lift her out of the hole she’d just fallen into; one she’d dug herself, no less.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Twilight spoke in a barely audible voice.

“So, that’s why you wouldn’t tell me?”

Author's Note

This chapter was supposed to be done before the end of October LOL.

Sorry for the ridiculously long wait! Hopefully the delays won't be this bad going forward. Also, I know I've been teasing this big thing Sunset hasn't told anyone, and I promise you'll learn what it is very soon. Plus, I feel like the more astute of you have already figured it out.