The Long, Dark Tunnel

Chapter Three: Which Dreamed It?
~BlackRoseRaven

Scrivener Blooms grumbled under his breath as he waited impatiently in a narrow hallway, ponies bustling by every now and then. This was where he had been told to wait, however: standing across the hall from an ugly wooden door, covered in the same peeling paint as the rest of the hallway, giving everything a run-down and rotting air.

The earth pony sighed tiredly, then he looked morbidly up at the ceiling: it was twenty minutes past the time his appointment was scheduled for, and he would have gladly left already if he could. If he left, however, he had no doubt that the psychiatrist he was supposed to meet with would claim that he had skipped out on his probation, and large, scary ponies would undoubtedly then show up at the library to drag him forcefully back to the asylum.

The male muttered under his breath, and then he returned his eyes to the door as it clicked before a mare stumbled out, sniffling a little. She was followed by a lanky brown pony with a large, rounded pair of spectacles and a combed-over scraggly yellow mane, who was saying soothingly: “-and just remember what we talked about, and you'll be fine.”

“My daughter's dead, I don't think I'll ever be fine again.” mumbled the mare, storming off, and Scrivener took this as a bad sign as the psychiatrist simply sighed and shook his head, then turned his eyes to the earth pony.

He looked surprised at his size, and the charcoal stallion immediately seized on this, straightening a little and holding his head up to make himself appear even larger than he already was. It made the small psychiatrist wince a bit, but then he forced a smile as he said slowly: “You must be Scrivener Blooms, ah, yes. I'm Dr. Duck.”

“Hello, Dr. Quack.” Scrivener said blandly, and the psychiatrist's smile fell from his face before the charcoal stallion asked mildly: “Can I go now? You've seen me, you see that I'm not covered in blood or having psychotic episodes, and I have an appointment in Canterlot next week anyway. Let's save everypony some trouble.”

“I'm afraid we still have to run through the motions, Scrivener Blooms. Please, come inside.” Dr. Duck said mildly, and he turned to head back into his office. Scrivener sighed loudly, rolling his eyes, and then he grumbled and strode forwards, pushing through the door and kicking it closed behind him as he looked back and forth.

It was a cluttered little office, crowded with shelves filled with psychology texts and books that looked self-important, and the little wall space left was used up by posters of happy kittens with self-help messages and framed degrees. Scrivener looked around, unimpressed, as he sat in a tiny green chair in front of a massive mahogany desk that Dr. Duck was barely able to squeeze around before he climbed up into his throne of a leather armchair, beginning pleasantly: “Now, Mr. Blooms. I understand that you have a deep-rooted fear of the mental health institution, but let me assure you this is a safe place-”

“I'm not scared of doctors. I'm annoyed by them.” Scrivener retorted, and Dr. Duck looked less-than-thrilled at being interrupted as the charcoal pony looked back and forth with a grimace. “Bet you never do well with the claustrophobia patients, do you?”

“On the contrary, I've seen a lot of success in my practice. On that note, why don't you tell me a little about yourself, Scrivener Blooms? I've read your file up and down, after all, but that only tells me so much.” Dr. Duck tented his hooves, leaning forwards and nodding seriously, and Scrivener only gave him a flat look in return.

“I'm making good progress, and I'm reintegrating little by little with society. I'm not having anxiety attacks as often anymore and as a matter of fact, this morning I was measured for a nice new set of clothes. I'm taking my medication and being a good little colt.” Scrivener said calmly, and Dr. Duck gave him a measuring look before the charcoal stallion smiled wryly and held up a hoof. “Scout's honor.”

Dr. Duck sighed a bit, then he instead turned his attention to his messy desk for a moment, pulling through a few files, and Scrivener stiffened: this was the part he hated. He knew by now that dealing with these doctors was the same as dealing with a lot of authority figures: you repeated the same old party lines to them again and again, and they had no choice but to believe you and eventually move on from you to something else, so long as you never gave them the satisfaction of seeing you act out. But a lot of doctors liked to poke at nerves: even if they tried to project an atmosphere of compassion and kindness, there was almost always cunning in there as well. It wasn't so different from a police interrogation... and all patients were criminals guilty of insanity until proven innocent.

Finally, Dr. Duck looked up and asked in a falsely-gentle voice: “Can you tell me about Princess Luna, Scrivener Blooms? Are you still seeing visions of her?”

“I never saw visions of her, she...” Scrivener caught himself, then he smiled slightly, shaking his head slowly. “Nice try. But I'm perfectly sane now and I know that my wife is dead and seeing the world has helped me understand, cope, and move forwards.”

“You're lying to me, Scrivener, and I don't quite know why.” Dr. Duck said softly, leaning across the desk and looking serious. “Now you know that unless I give my approval, you'll be taken back to the Canterlot Institute for Mental Health for reassessment: we're concerned that you still present a significant risk of danger to yourself and others, and you have to make it through a ninety day parole period before anypony will let you simply prance off into the sunset. Now, I have no doubt you can lie your way through your teeth to get through a simple assessment on the good days... but it would be a waste of our time and yours to go through that whole process, and you could end up spending a few days back in the institute, or be placed into one of the halfway house programs... you don't want that, do you?”

Scrivener grumbled under his breath, and then he looked up and said moodily: “I don't want to discuss Luna with you.”

“Okay, then we can avoid that subject for now.” Dr. Duck looked pleased with himself as he sat up, asking in his falsely-kind voice: “Tell me about how you've been doing these first few days of freedom. Honestly.”

“Honestly? I've been... I've been better than I expected.” Scrivener said finally, sighing and lowering his head a little, grumbling inwardly. But it would be a small price to pay to be forced to play this stupid game with the shrink if it would just keep him out of the asylum. “Yesterday... Twilight and I went to the bank, and to the pharmacy... we even stopped for lunch and picked up dinner at a restaurant. I was around other ponies almost all day and I only had a few bad moments, but nothing awful.”

Dr. Duck nodded slowly, then he looked down at the files laid out across his desk as he said calmly: “Tell me about the bad moments, Scrivener Blooms. Did you believe these ponies were out to get you, trying to persecute you?”

“No, no...” Scrivener hesitated, then he sighed when Dr. Duck looked up at him, shifting and muttering: “It's not persecution as much as I believe they just don't like me. That they don't want anything to do with me or they... hate me, find me stupid.”

“I see.” Dr. Duck reached up, the lanky earth pony picking up a quill and making a short note on one of Scrivener's files, making him grimace before the psychologist said gently: “You understand that these ponies don't feel that way about you, correct? That it's only all in your mind?”

“Yes, I do.” Scrivener sighed tiredly, looking down and muttering: “But even with all the anti-anxiety medication running through my system, I still end up thinking these... things.”

“Well, these medications make handling stress easier, and allow you to better cope with anxiety, but they don't eliminate it completely. Think of it this way: without the medication, you may not be able to control your emotions or remind yourself that your perception of their feelings is only all in your own mind, and then where would you be? Coping with another delusional state.” Dr. Duck said pointedly, and Scrivener grunted and nodded moodily before the psychologist smiled. “Good. Now, you're living with a friend, Twilight Sparkle, correct? She's a nice mare... I've met her once or twice.”

Scrivener looked moodily across at Dr. Duck, remaining quiet, and the psychologist sized him up for a moment before asking: “How do you feel about her? Are you ever concerned she's 'out to get you,' or do you ever feel the urge to hurt her? Conversely, are your feelings for her strong, do you want to make her 'yours?'”

The charcoal stallion shivered once, grunting and looking away before he sighed when the shrink only continued to smile kindly at him, and finally, Scrivy sighed and said moodily: “I... I've never once felt like Twilight wanted to hurt me.”

He halted, then frowned in surprise as he realized it was true, prompting Dr. Duck to lean forwards curiously. Scrivener remained silent for a moment, and then he nodded slowly, looking up and saying quietly: “She's better to me than I deserve, and I trust her completely. Yes, I care about her very deeply... I want to do everything I can for her, because of all the help she provides me, and because she doesn't judge me. But I fail to see how this has anything to do with the fact everyone thinks I'm nuts.”

“On the contrary, I think it's a very good sign. It means that little-by-little, you're beginning to move on from the loss of your fiancee, and as you move forwards, I have faith that your mental health will substantially improve.” Dr. Duck replied, and even when Scrivener gritted his teeth, the psychologist only smiled. “Don't worry, Scrivener Blooms. These feelings are very natural. And we'll work through that guilt you feel over the death of your loved one. Like I tell all my patients, you have the power to make yourself well.”

Scrivener grunted at this moodily, and then he dropped his head forwards before Dr. Duck said gently: “I think this is a good start. I won't press you any further for now, Scrivener Blooms, but try and let go of the past, and look forwards to the future. I believe you have a very happy future ahead of you, if you're only willing to move towards it.”

Scrivener only grunted as he stood up from the chair, and then he nodded once before turning and heading to the door. Just as he pushed it open, however, Dr. Duck said kindly: “Let's meet at the same time, two weeks from now. I'll send you a letter so you don't forget, with a few anxiety exercises.”

The charcoal stallion nodded silently again, and then he let himself out of the office, closing the door behind him and feeling cranky as he headed down the hall and hurried out of the rundown mental health clinic. He muttered to himself under his breath about self-important doctors, then shook his head out as he strode slowly down the street by himself, looking almost nervously back and forth.

The skies were cloudy and gray above, casting a gloomy pall over Ponyville that at least seemed to be keeping most of the ponies inside and the streets relatively empty. It made the walk easier, and he felt his mood slowly evening out with his movements as he headed back towards the library.

He had asked Twilight not to come with him, not just because it would waste a lot of her time, but also because he knew he had to adjust to being outside and around ponies by himself, too. Maybe he was pushing himself a little fast, but... all the same, he didn't want to be a dead weight. He didn't want to be dependent on Twilight to take him everywhere like she was his foal-sitter... she deserved better than that. And besides... Ponyville was small, and the ponies didn't set him on edge like the people of Canterlot did... well, most of them didn't. Dr. Duck had been a clear exception to that rule.

Scrivener shook his head out a bit before he looked up at the sky overhead, hearing the rumble of thunder. There was going to be a storm today... and he grimaced a bit, picking up his pace as he hurried back towards the library. He could feel his anxieties writhing around in his head, but they were quickly being displaced by a simple desire to avoid the rain if at all possible... he hated the rain.

He made it back to the library just after the storm began, avoiding being drenched by the rainfall and letting out a sigh of relief as he kicked the door closed behind him. He glanced up to see Twilight already approaching with a warm smile on her face... an expression Scrivener realized after a moment was just a little bit anxious, too, as she asked quickly: “So how did it go, Scrivy? Rarity's, and then the psychologist?”

Scrivener smiled a little across at her, shaking his head as he straightened before shrugging a bit and meeting her eyes. “Good, I think. I... got a little paranoid over at Rarity's, but... she was also hovering around me with a lot of needles and scissors and sharp objects.”

Twilight laughed a bit at this, nodding slowly to him as she smiled a little in return. “Yeah. I get a little paranoid there myself sometimes too... but what about the psychologist, then?”

“Slow down, Twilight, I just got in the door.” Scrivener laughed despite himself, shaking his head as he approached, and then he blushed and winced back a bit as the violet mare checked him quickly over, mumbling: “Oh come on, you can't think that I did something stupid out there, can you?”

“Hey, I'm supposed to keep an eye on you at all times, Scrivener. I was just... I was just worried. You're kind of a trouble magnet most of the time.” Twilight said softly, and Scrivener nodded a bit after a moment, meeting her eyes before she shook her head and reached up to gently touch his face. “I'm glad you're okay.”

“I am. I am okay.” Scrivener affirmed softly, more to himself than her, and then he nodded thoughtfully before saying: “And things went okay with the shrink. I don't like him but I guess that's to be expected anyway. But I didn't make too much trouble so... I just have to go back in two weeks' time and he's going to send us a letter or something.”

Twilight nodded, then she stepped back and smiled, saying softly: “Come on. I'll make you something to eat.”

“Why don't I make the food, Twilight? You know I don't mind. I'll just put together grilled cheese or something.” Scrivener said after a moment, and Twilight sighed but then nodded, giving him a soft look. “Or grilled tomato? Would you prefer that?”

“Whatever you're having is fine, Scrivy.” Twilight said with soft amusement, and Scrivener grunted at her with another nod as he headed towards the kitchen, the violet mare smiling a little. “You know, this almost makes me believe your stories. I didn't know you actually knew how to cook.”

“Well, I wouldn't go that far, Twilight; I might be able to throw food together but I'm no master chef either.” Scrivener smiled over his shoulder at her, then returned his gaze forwards, continuing with a shrug of his shoulders: “But Luna was never any good at cooking and... I liked being useful to her. So I gradually learned to expand my repertoire of a few simple dishes into a small variety of meals... you know, when we had to eat, anyway.”

Twilight looked at him softly, and Scrivener shook his head a bit before the violet mare asked quietly: “What was it like? In the world you lived in?”

Scrivener looked over his shoulder at her, halting just outside the kitchen with a bit of a frown, but Twilight Sparkle only smiled faintly, murmuring: “I'm not saying I believe you, Scrivener. But I'm saying that if everything felt so real to you... if everything was so... vivid, and that world you lived in, whether in reality or just delusion was... was the world you lived in... I'm just curious. I want to know what it must have felt like for you... and I wonder sometimes...”

“What's the difference between dreams and reality, if you believe in it?” Scrivener finished softly, and Twilight looked at him for a moment, then nodded slowly.

Scrivy smiled a little after a moment, then he bowed his head forwards and thought on Twilight's question as he headed into the kitchen. She followed him, sitting back at the table and watching as the stallion slowly went about the process of gathering up the things needed to put together a simple meal.

Then he finally looked up, glancing over his shoulder at her and answering softly: “Fluttershy kind of asked me that same question, you know. And I told her I was the luckiest stallion in the world, which... I'll repeat to you. But... I guess you deserve a fuller explanation, too, Twilight. If not just because of your obsession with knowing every little thing, of course...”

The violet mare gave him an entertained look, and the stallion looked thoughtfully ahead before he said quietly: “I'm not saying that it was paradise... there was a lot of pain, and there was a lot of hardship. My relationships weren't perfect... far from it. And they required more work and effort than most people would believe, too... but they were worth it, always. And I never once questioned how lucky I was to...”

He quieted, then shook his head as his hooves continued to go about the simple process of putting the pan on the stove, buttering bread, getting other things ready. “I have a lot of good memories, and a lot more powerful memories... stuff that I wouldn't trade for the world, even though... they aren't memories that make me happy, either. I remember being strong, and... I liked being strong, Twilight Sparkle. I mean, I know, there aren't a lot of ponies who want to be weak, but...”

He laughed a bit, shaking his head slowly as he tossed the bread into the pan, sending up a hiss of steam and the distinct smell of frying butter. “I liked being... in control, in a sense. I mean, Luna was always telling me what to do and so was... the Twilight I knew...” Scrivener smiled over at her. “But I was able to throw my own ideas and weight around too, when I liked. And I was strong enough that I... I didn't have to be afraid of anything. Not with you and Luna behind me, supporting me...”

Scrivener lowered his head, and then he shook it hurriedly and went back to cooking, mumbling to himself: “I mean, my Twilight. Well. You know what I mean. What I'm trying to say is... I was never alone.”

Then he glanced up in surprise as he felt limbs wrap silently around him from behind, and he looked quietly up as Twilight held onto him, pressing herself close against his back and her eyes closed, her head resting silently on the back of his neck. He breathed slowly in and out as he felt her heart thudding in her chest, almost in time with his own... and then the violet mare smiled faintly, whispering: “You never have to be alone, Scrivener. Never.”

Scrivy blushed a bit as he lowered his head in silent thanks, but he didn't need to speak as Twilight simply held on to him, her eyes closing, pressed against his back.

He remembered it so clearly: his Equestria, the Looking Glass World he came from, populated with ponies and Nibelung and Strange Ones and other races. He remembered the gaze of a falcon-headed once-god who had learned compassion, and the callous and childlike snarl of a Jötnar that had sought to destroy everything simply because he wanted to.

Scrivener twisted back and forth on his bed, shivering and sweating, deep asleep and breathing hard as the nightmares and memories mixed together and tore through his mind. And so bittersweet, so wonderful and terrible at the same time, he could see Luna, too... but what made it so painful was the fact that every time she appeared in his memories, there were afterimages, overlap: it was like he was remembering two different Lunas at once.

She smiled at him and swayed a bit in his mind, and the overlapping Luna moved with her only a little out of time, her expression more of a grin, their eyes both so beautiful, so deep, so determined, but so different. One had the eyes of a warrior... the other, the eyes of a dreamer. One was filled with longing to be more than she was; the other was filled with the desire to make who she was into something better. And yet in both of them, for all their differences... they were both everything he had ever admired.

Scrivener shifted back and forth with a quiet groan on the bedding, as the memories split apart in his mind, leaving him to stare at two different images: at a Luna that stood in a beautiful bedroom in a castle, and a Luna that rested in a comfortable den in a hidden and comfortable cottage. Then the images blurred, and Princess Luna was wearing a dress as Warrior Luna stomped something to pieces beneath her hooves, before both grumbled, in voices that echoed and overlapped: “I hate pretty clothing.”

A flash, and then both Lunas were smiling towards him, one now wearing only a band of ivy with a beautiful black pearl engraved with a rose blossom, while the other had a gorgeous necklace of dark gemstones now on as well, that matched her peytral and tiara. “It's beautiful, Scrivener...”

The images fizzled again, and a moment later, the two Lunas were again in a different position, one laying on comfortable bedding and the other smiling as she sat at a writing desk, both gazing at him softly. “Come join me, poet.”

A flicker, and then this time, darkness assaulted his senses, so thick that it threatened to suffocate him... before cold, callous eyes opened in the shadows as a blue-fire mane cast ill light over the features of the being he'd known as Nightmare Moon, her voice whispering with soft, poisonous love: “We shall never leave you and you shall never leave us, Scrivener Blooms. Our love is the greatest love of all; our love is the love that kills and makes strong.”

Scrivener shuddered and groaned before Nightmare Moon vanished into the darkness, and visions tore through his mind, of massive, mottle-scaled Tyrant Wyrms striding over black and rotten mire that reeked like gasoline and charred metal, bone pistons pumping on the backs of the grinning, dragon-like monsters. They moved through the wastes, sounding like rumbling, thundering trains as blue steam hissed out of their jaws, before one of them looked directly towards him and opened its maw with a roar that sounded like a crash, a bang, a scream of metal and gears and machinery-

“Scrivener!” Twilight's voice cut through the nightmare, and Scrivener sat up on the bedding, gasping hard, clutching at his chest as he looked wildly back and forth. Twilight was beside him, breathing hard as she leaned over him worriedly, and Scrivener trembled violently before he turned towards her and buried his face against the side of her neck, clutching at her almost desperately.

She hugged him back immediately, holding the larger stallion as best she could and looking down over him worriedly as she stroked a hoof through his ragged mane... but after a few moments, Scrivener sat back, breathing a little hard and shivering a bit, but obviously calmer as he rubbed a hoof at his face, mumbling: “Sorry.”

“It's okay. Are you okay?” Twilight hesitated, looking over him as Scrivener nodded slowly and sat back a bit, breathing slowly before she carefully slipped forwards to sit on the futon beside him. “How long did you sleep for?”

“A few hours. Just a few hours.” Scrivener shook his head a bit, rubbing at his face slowly. “I... feels like morning.”

“The sun's not even up yet, Scrivener, but I thought I heard something while I was getting a glass of water, and... I'm glad I came to check on you.” Twilight said softly, and then she reached a hoof up and frowned a bit, murmuring: “You're covered in cold sweat...”

“The... the memories get to me. Make me question my sanity and... it... it's worse than any nightmare...” Scrivener shivered a bit, looking away before he closed his eyes. “Let's not talk about it. Look, I'll be fine. You go back to bed, Twilight, but... thank you for making sure I was okay.”

Twilight hesitated... and then she quietly laid down on the futon, and Scrivener glanced over his shoulder at her with surprise as she looked up at him softly, saying finally: “I... I can trust you, right?”

Scrivener was quiet as he looked down at her, before blushing a little as his eyes roved slowly downwards... but Twilight only smiled faintly, reaching a hoof out and touching his foreleg quietly. “Come on. Lay down. I'll stay with you and make sure you can get a little more rest.”

“Y-Yeah.” Scrivener said finally, and he slowly settled down beside her, laying facing her. Their eyes locked in the darkness, violet and chestnut irises staring into one another's before Scrivener smiled faintly and slowly reached up, not speaking as he gently took one of Twilight's front hooves in his own.

Twilight smiled at him, slowly squeezing his hoof in return as she leaned towards him a bit, her lips parting slightly, breathing quietly as Scrivener felt his body settling. He looked into her eyes, and saw the same Twilight he had lived with, spent time with... loved...

He closed his eyes... and when he opened them again, Twilight's own irises had slid closed and she was breathing slowly and regularly, already asleep. Her hoof still gripped his tightly, though, and Scrivener looked slowly over her before gazing silently down at this, and a shiver ran through him as thoughts of Luna rolled through his mind, whispering: “I... I don't want to betray her...”

But she would want you happy... we desire to see you happy... chided Nightmare Moon's voice, and Scrivener swallowed thickly before the voice whispered teasingly through his mind: Why should we not encourage this? Another delight, to add to our collection...

Scrivener shivered at this thought, grimacing as he slipped himself protectively closer to Twilight, and then he laughed despite himself at this, feeling bitter and frustrated with himself. He wanted to protect her... but he had a horrible feeling that while that was Nightmare Moon's sultry tones, that thought was purely his own.

He made a face at his own desires... then silently looked down as Twilight shifted and slipped herself closer to him in her sleep, the charcoal stallion softening. He hesitated for a moment, then reached forwards and silently brushed her mane away from her face, studying her silently: there were so many physical differences between this Twilight and the Twilight he had known... but at the same time, they were so much the same, in so many ways. Putting him first, trusting him, caring for him... now here, even if he could see she was a little scared of him, a little worried about what he might do... she was here with him.

He wondered silently, again, just why she was going to such lengths for him... and then Scrivener shook his head slowly before he shifted a little and closed his eyes. Sleep didn't come to him again that night, but by the time morning came, he still felt well-rested thanks to the comfort of the violet mare's presence.

Her eyes opened, and she smiled softly as she found herself in his embrace, her head on his chest, his forelegs around her. Then she slowly looked up, and when their eyes locked, Twilight blushed suddenly before hurriedly pushing herself up and away, Scrivener unable to repress a wry grin at her as she cleared her throat and sat back a bit, shaking herself briskly out. “G-Good morning, Scrivy. Did... did you sleep?”

“I didn't need to.” Scrivener said softly, and Twilight blushed deeper before she smiled hesitantly down at him, reaching out to almost nervously touch his chest. Scrivener gave her an amused look, and then he shook his head slowly, asking: “Want me to throw on breakfast for you and Spike?”

“No... not right away, anyway.” Twilight hesitated, and then she shook her head a bit. “I should write a letter to Princess Celestia, and I also need to do a little bit of work around the library today, sorting books and cataloging. Maybe you could help Spike with that, if you're up for it... and I've got a stack of articles to sort and transcribe, too.”

“I could just hire someone to do all the work for us.” Scrivener said mildly, and when Twilight gave him a sour look, he grumbled and shoved at her. “You're as fun as I remember.”

“I guess some things never change.” Twilight smiled a little at him, studying him before she glanced down and rubbed a hoof at her chest slowly... then finally drew her gaze upwards, asking softly: “Scrivy... do you remember...”

Scrivener frowned a bit, tilting his head slowly, and Twilight smiled faintly again before she reached up and touched under his chin softly. “You really don't, huh? It was years ago, though, and you've been in such a confusing, dark place for more than two of them... I know that you've... rewritten history for yourself. Or... what do I know, maybe you're telling the truth and...”

Twilight laughed and shook her head slowly, before she looked down and whispered: “But I don't want to believe that... but not because I think it's crazy, Scrivener, or impossible. Not because... I think you're mentally ill... because of what it means for me. Because it means you already have a better Twilight waiting for you, whatever's happened to Luna... if you lost Luna at all, that is. Because I'm selfish, and I can't stop thinking of the promise we made to each other...”

Scrivener cocked his head as he sat slowly up, and Twilight's eyes locked with his, smiling faintly as she whispered: “We all promised each other... the three of us, that we'd always take care of each other. You, me, Luna... if something happened to one of us, the other would be there. We promised each other, Scrivy... we were best friends.”

“We did...” Scrivener murmured quietly, lowering his head and remembering that same promise, made between him, Luna and Twilight in his own world. A promise to watch out for one another, to always be friends no matter what happened and how the world around them changed... to take care of each other if anything happened. A promise that had grown and always held true... and Scrivener closed his eyes before he slowly looked up as he said quietly: “Then why do we both feel guilty?”

“Because you still love Luna, even if she's been gone for so long now...” Twilight laughed faintly, glancing to the side. “Because here we are now, and I'm sitting here, trying to convince you that everything you thought you knew was a lie... because I feel like I'm betraying both of my best friends.”

Scrivener closed his eyes... then he reached up and touched her shoulder, looking into her violet eyes as he said softly: “I care about you very deeply, Twilight... more than I can say. But let's take this slow then, okay? I... I don't know what's real and what's not, we need to adjust to living together, and... you're kind of crazy.” He smiled a bit as Twilight gave him a frustrated but strangely-relieved look. “Besides. You might not find me so attractive after a few sessions of me crying like a little filly.”

Twilight only sighed and shook her head slowly, then she smiled a bit and nodded slowly once, murmuring: “I think I'm more worried that you won't like me after you spend some time with me, than I won't like you for who you are.”

Scrivener frowned at this, tilting his head curiously, but Twilight only hurriedly shook her head before she stood up, gesturing to him awkwardly. “But... come on then, Scrivener. Let's do some work around here.”

She paused for a moment longer, however, then she looked at him and asked curiously: “How would you feel about spending a little more time around my friends? I understand if you don't want to, of course, Scrivy, but... they seemed to get along with you pretty well. And more than that, you seemed to do good with them... it might be nice for you to try and socialize a little more. It might... help with things.”

Scrivener shifted a bit, and then he finally grunted and nodded slowly, saying after a moment: “Maybe. If only because you probably just want me out of the library.”

“I just want my friends to approve of you.” Twilight said softly, and Scrivener looked dumbly up at her before Twilight blushed and shook her head rapidly. “I... I mean, I want them to get to know you better, not... not... that.... I mean... I'm going to go put on coffee!”

Twilight spun and hurried out of the room, and Scrivener sighed and rolled his eyes, but he was smiling warmly all the same, feeling lightened as he carefully climbed up to his hooves and stepped forwards. Then he reached up and silently rubbed at his chest, lowering his head a bit and feeling a rumble run through his body as he murmured: “What should I do, Luna?”

Only silence greeted him in return... and Scrivener shook his head slowly, striding forwards with his head lowered as he closed his eyes and murmured to himself: “Come on, Scrivy. Get though the day... you can try and put the pieces back together later.”

He nodded slowly to himself, readying himself for what he expected would be a long and tiresome day... but thankfully, it proved the opposite of what the charcoal stallion expected. It had been a long time since he'd done the kind of work Twilight had laid out for him, and with Spike working with him, he was able to almost meditate in the monotony of transcribing and sorting articles between sharing conversation with the baby dragon. It also seemed to soothe Spike's worries to sit and talk with the large stallion, and learn that his talent really was for writing... just as he was fascinated when Scrivener found himself beginning to ramble once more about his delusions, unable to stop himself.

But talk of other worlds wasn't so fantastic to the baby dragon: he was still naïve enough to simply accept the things he was told. It probably helped that he was able to mention the Spike of his world had both grown into a fine young warrior and eventually married Rarity.

Spike looked dreamy with these thoughts, and when Twilight had come back, she had been both amused and irritated with Scrivener, reminding him gently that this was the real world, and he should at least be pretending that he was trying to reconnect to reality instead of giving in to the delusions. Scrivener only grumbled at her, but he had nodded all the same... although once Twilight was gone, he went back to gladly answering any questions Spike had to ask.

In the afternoon, while Scrivener had moved to the main library to start sorting shelves and argue with Twilight Sparkle about her filing system, a window was kicked open and Rainbow Dash shot in and tackled Scrivener, knocking him off the ladder he'd been standing on and driving him to the ground. Twilight had winced as Scrivener had looked stupidly up at Rainbow as she'd leaned over him, glaring down at him challengingly. “Do I look like a dude to you?”

“Yes.” Scrivener said seriously, and Rainbow Dash spluttered for a response before he held up a hoof and asked mildly: “Can you get off me now? Because even if you aren't a stallion you weigh about as much as one.”

“Dude, you're asking for it.” Rainbow said threateningly, and then she leaned forwards and poked his face a few times. “I'm not reading a story where I'm a dude. That's dumb. D-U-M dumb. Also, what's with Pinkie being all crazy? That's stupid too.”

Scrivener paused for a few moments, then he looked up at her thoughtfully and asked curiously: “If you're not reading the story, then why are you more than halfway through it? And I also note that you've objected to being a guy but not to marrying Applejack.”

“I was just getting to that!” Rainbow snapped in a flustered voice, blushing deep red for a moment before she grumbled and smacked him several times with her front hooves, Scrivener wincing and covering his head. “You can't write this kind of stuff about real ponies!”

“Tabloids do it all the time and they actually publish their stuff. The only ponies who know about these stories are you, Twilight, and Celestia. You should feel special.” Scrivener replied grumpily, and when Rainbow gave him a dour look, the stallion continued in a kinder voice: “But I completely understand your feelings on the subject, so why don't you just return the manuscript to me, and we'll lock that and the other stories away?”

Rainbow cleared her throat at this, then she mumbled grudgingly: “Well... you know... I mean, I'm... halfway through anyway. And you know, I guess the action was kind of cool. The whole crazy running through Canterlot thing, I liked that, that was okay. Just okay, of course. I don't like it at all but I figure since I'm in it I should read the whole thing. But you gotta totally thank me for it.”

“Thank you, Rainbow Douche.” Scrivener said dryly, and then he winced when she smacked him firmly again, the stallion muttering: “Exact same reaction as you had in the story.”

Rainbow grunted, then she finally slipped off him and cleared her throat at the smoldering look Twilight was giving her, grinning lamely. “Hey, at least this time I didn't wreck anything. Oh, yeah, by the way, Scrivy. You wanna come out tonight for drinks? Twilight, you can come too... you know, if you're not going to give me the same excuse as you always do.”

Twilight and Scrivener both looked surprised, and Rainbow shrugged a bit, saying finally: “Well, it'd be nice to have a pony there other than Big Mac and maybe Applejack. Fluttershy never joins us and Rarity's too hoity-toity for a bar and Twilight's boring. And Pinkie joins us sometimes but we always have to keep an eye on her, since she doesn't really understand how livers work.”

Scrivener hesitated, and then he stood up and said quietly: “I appreciate it, and... I'll come if I can just stick to cola and stuff. I don't.. do well with alcohol.”

Rainbow studied him for a moment thoughtfully, and then she smiled a little, raising a hoof and saying softly: “Sure. And see, Twilight? Now you gotta come if the crazy jerk here is coming out with us.”

“I'd... rather not.” Twilight said delicately, before she smiled a little across at Scrivener, giving him a soft look. “I think instead I'll pay Rarity a visit tonight, if that's okay, Scrivy. I'll pick up your clothes and... Luna's dress for you.”

Scrivener nodded, smiling a little over at her and oddly appreciating the chance to try and do this on his own, even if the idea of not having her as a safety net to fall back on worried him. But he thought she had something else in mind, too, even as Rainbow groaned and rolled her eyes, grumbling: “You're never going to get over that one time, are you?”

Twilight only gave the Pegasus a flat look again, and Rainbow Dash finally sighed and nodded, then hopped into the air and said pointedly: “I'll be waiting for you, then, Scrivy, don't you let me down! The Golden Horseshoe, don't forget it!”

With that, Rainbow turned and flew quickly out an open window, Scrivener and Twilight both looking up with relief as she left... before the Pegasus awkwardly poked her head back in, asking lamely: “Can I have the next story, by the way?”

“No. Finish the one you have, first.” Scrivener said flatly, and Rainbow huffed at him before leaving, the charcoal stallion looking wryly amused as he muttered: “I really enjoy how my special talent is to make people read stories they absolutely hate.”

“Oh, stop it.” Twilight was smiling all the same, however, giving him an amused look before she said meditatively: “Although you could try and write something positive for a change... or you know, take the feelings of your audience into consideration...”

“Well, I guess I'm just a cold unfeeling bastard who thrives on pain.” Scrivener remarked cheerfully, and Twilight groaned and dropped her head forwards before he smiled over at her. “Think of it this way. I write what one person wants to see, I make one person happy. I'd rather write what I want to see and make myself... well. My writing doesn't often make me happy. But not writing the story as I'm told makes my hooves try and suffocate me in my sleep.”

Twilight only looked at him for a few moments, and then she sighed and shook her head slowly, muttering: “I'm going to ask the doctors to double your medication.”

Scrivener only gave her an amused look, and then he shifted a little before glancing towards the door, adding moodily: “And you know. Then I stop and realize what I just did and I wonder if maybe tonight's the night I have a psychotic break again.”

Twilight softened at this, striding over to him with a shake of her head and reaching up to touch his shoulder gently. “They're good ponies, Scrivy, and it won't be crowded. Besides, Rainbow seemed interested in having you along and... she and Applejack will take good care of you.”

Scrivener nodded a little, and then he looked curiously over Twilight before he asked: “And what are you up to tonight?”

“Just... putting my best hoof forwards.” Twilight said finally, smiling at him, and Scrivener tilted his head a bit before the violet mare shrugged and murmured quietly: “If you want something, you can't just sit back and wait for it to come to you, can you?”

“Ponies say that, but... it's not always true. Sometimes running towards something is what drives it away.” Scrivener said softly, and Twilight nodded slowly before the stallion lowered his head, murmuring softly: “Luna and I... after all, we just... we just kind of happened. Same with us, wasn't it?”

“Yeah.” Twilight smiled a bit as she lowered her head, and neither said anything even as they both felt it: that moment, that twist. Then, finally, the violet mare turned to head back to work, and Scrivener quietly went to do his own job as well.

They ended up not having much of a dinner, neither very hungry and Spike napping, before the two left together after Twilight made sure Scrivener took his pills. He had to take them three times a day, although the stallion wasn't very careful about keeping to his schedule and regularly ignored the instructions on the sides of the bottles. Twilight walked Scrivy into town to help him find the bar, then left quickly to head to Rarity's boutique... but not before another quick hug that lingered just a little long.

Scrivener went inside, feeling anxiety rolling around inside of him as confused thoughts spilled through his mind, but he managed a smile when Rainbow called to him from a nearby table, walking over to sit down with her. Applejack was here as well, and she smiled and pointed across the room to a large, crimson stallion with a hay-colored mane and tail and a thick oaken yoke around his neck, saying warmly: “See that guy over there? That's my brother, Big Mac.”

Scrivener nodded, studying the male for a moment with a smile: from his green eyes to his cutie mark of an apple half on his flank, he was- “AJ, the dude knows. The dude knows all of us. And personally I'm starting to think all these stories are some crazy prank by Twilight, she put you up to this, didn't she? Revenge for all the times Pinkie and I owned her.”

The charcoal earth pony looked mildly across at Rainbow Dash as the Pegasus leaned forwards, grinning across at him victoriously, and then he asked plainly: “If Twilight really wanted to get revenge on you for those pranks, do you really think she'd need my help? Or more importantly, that this is the worst I could do?”

“It probably is the worst you... could do.” Rainbow retorted lamely, and Scrivener laughed as Applejack cleared her throat and hid her grin behind a hoof. “Okay, you both shut up. Anyway, I'm gonna bring your manuscript back to the library tomorrow. What's the next story?”

“Seriously, you read it already?” Scrivener looked dumbfounded, and when Rainbow peered at him as if expecting some insult or mockery, he shrugged after a moment, saying finally: “Thank you.”

The Pegasus seemed surprised by this, but she quickly only shrugged, replying mildly: “Well, you know, it was okay and stuff and... I didn't have anything better to do today, that's all. Hey, Big Mac, what's taking so long? Come meet the dude we were talking about!”

“Since when was I promoted to being 'the dude,' anyway? Not that I'm complaining or anything, but. All the same.” Scrivener smiled as he relaxed a bit before glancing up when a large red stallion slid into the booth seat beside him, the charcoal stallion grunting and nodding to him, and Big Mac returned the gesture easily as he put down a tray loaded with drinks.

Applejack snorted in amusement at this as Rainbow said mildly: “This is the guy we were talking about.”

“Nice to meet ya.” Big Mac said kindly, and the two stallions looked at each other for a moment, Scrivener Blooms feeling that odd sense of familiarity again before the red earth pony picked up one of the bottles of beer in front of him and popped the top off with the edge of the table. He offered it to Scrivener, but the charcoal stallion only smiled and rose a hoof with a shake of his head, and the red stallion grunted and instead took a deep swig of the beer himself.

“Well, glad you two are getting along.” AJ rolled her eyes in amusement, leaning back in her seat and trading an entertained look with Dash. “Good thing we got two such conversational ponies here, huh?”

“Seriously.” Rainbow Dash looked entertained as well, then she grinned and nudged Applejack lightly, saying in a conspiratorial voice that clearly carried over to Scrivener. “But a little birdy told me that Twilight might just have the hots for the dude here. She even scheduled a visit over with Rarity or something this afternoon.”

Scrivener looked meditative at this as Applejack huffed, but she looked intrigued all the same as her eyes roved curiously to the charcoal stallion. “You're just trying to stir the pot Rainbow, even though Celestia knows you've been talking about that damn silly story he wrote so much I think you don't really hate it at all.”

“I hate it! I totally hate it!” Rainbow said in an outraged voice, and then she added hurriedly: “And hey, this is Scrivener's humiliation, not mine. Also, he wrote Luna making out with Twilight.”

“What?” Applejack leaned up and glared over at Scrivener, saying flatly: “Now that, on the other hoof, ain't really a good way to go remembering your dead fiancee.”

Scrivener grumbled at this, but Rainbow Dash only interjected cheerfully: “Well, cut him some slack, AJ, he is a madpony and all. Besides, if it wasn't so creepy it'd be cute. Twilight was always going to Canterlot, remember, when... when Luna was around.”

The other ponies quieted a bit at this, and then Scrivener looked up and said mildly: “I'm not a madpony. I'm a lunatic.” A pause. “Get it?”

“Did... did you just make a joke about your dead fiancee?” Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Big Mac all stared at him, the Pegasus' jaw working stupidly and Big Mac with his bottle raised to his mouth, but not drinking, only staring.

“Dead wife, and yes, I did.” Scrivener halted, then he looked down and smiled faintly. “She would have absolutely loved that. She would have wanted me to make that joke... because that was just the way we were. We were always... yelling at each other, and hitting each other, and arguing and grumbling and fighting, but... at the same time, we never fought, do you understand? She'd call me names and I'd undermine her and we were... more than husband and wife, we were the very best of friends. I can't explain how important that was... that we were best friends.”

Applejack and Rainbow Dash traded a quiet look as Big Mac slowly lowered his bottle, the three simply looking at the charcoal pony before he cleared his throat and rose his head with a bit of a smile. “Anyway, let's... not let me depress us all or start going crazy.”

There was quiet for a few moments, and then Rainbow Dash finally asked curiously: “So... honestly, Scrivy, 'cause... you know, I'm her friend, and I just wanna know the score... are you and Twilight...”

Scrivener shrugged after a moment even as Applejack looked pointedly at Rainbow Dash, and then the charcoal stallion said softly: “It's hard to say. I still... I still think about Luna all the time. Feel for Luna... and Twilight feels a lot of guilt and shame, too. She and Luna were good friends... we all were, even if... my memories are all weird.”

“Yeah, well. I don't think you were as good friends as you wrote about.” Rainbow said mildly, and when Scrivener gave her a sour look, the Pegasus held up a hoof in a gesture of surrender. “Okay okay, dropping it for now. But if it continues to pop up I claim the right to continue to make fun of you for it.”

“It does, and you also continue to be a guy. Did you tell Applejack about-” Scrivener paused at the frantic head-shaking of the Pegasus, and the charcoal stallion looked pleased with himself as Applejack only looked up curiously. “Oh, you didn't mention that-”

The table jounced, and Big Mac winced before scowling across at Rainbow Dash, who shrank back a bit in her seat as Scrivener coughed and cleared his throat loudly. Applejack only sighed and rolled her eyes, then she looked moodily over at the Pegasus, saying dryly: “Rainbow, you're three kinds of idiot, you know that?”

Rainbow only nodded awkwardly, and Scrivener smiled despite himself before he glanced over at Big Mac and asked impulsively: “Do you play pool?”

Big Mac only shrugged and looked at him curiously, and Scrivener nodded a little after a moment, feeling oddly disappointed. Rainbow and Applejack both looked with curiosity towards Scrivener, but he simply stayed quiet before he excused himself for a moment.

He headed to the bar to get a glass of cola, and when he returned, Applejack studied him for a few moments before she said thoughtfully: “You know, Big Mac and I could use another hoof 'round this time of year...”

“We got it covered, AJ.” Big Mac said stoically, and Scrivener let his eyes rove towards the large red stallion thoughtfully, picking up the differences he noticed in all the ponies here from the ones he had known himself... or perhaps created, as the back of his mind whispered. As Big Mac and Applejack argued for a moment, Scrivy felt a chill run down his spine: suddenly, he was wondering whether or not he had simply romanticized all the ponies of Ponyville Luna had told him about... exaggerated their qualities to form his cast of characters in his delusional world, added what he had observed himself, had he met them... which was why some ponies were so different, but others, like Twilight, were almost the same in mind and perhaps soul...

Scrivener was brought back to reality when Big Mac grunted and Applejack nodded firmly and hammered a hoof on the table, before she smiled over at Scrivener. “Sorry 'bout that. Anyway, I don't reckon a big fella like yourself would have the worst of time with the work... more monotonous than anything else. But since Apple Bloom and Granny Smith can't help out much, and I don't want Big Mac hurtin' himself again, maybe you could lend us a hoof with the harvest. I'd be more than happy to pay you what I could...”

“No, no, you don't need to pay me anything. I'd be glad to help out. I think it would be good for me.” Scrivener agreed, nodding and smiling a bit. “Besides, Twilight wants me to make a good impression on the other ponies and at least pretend I can be social. This sounds like a good way to do that.”

Applejack laughed and shook her head, then she smiled warmly in return and said quietly: “Well, you gotta let me pay you back somehow, Scrivener Blooms.”

“We'll figure something out.” Scrivener said mildly, shrugging a bit before he turned his eyes to Rainbow Dash, who was looking at him almost suspiciously. “What?”

Rainbow only grunted, though, then she leaned back and asked curiously: “So what do you actually know about fighting and stuff? And how strong are you, really?”

Scrivener only shrugged a bit, and then he winced when Big Mac glanced at him and rose a hoof, the charcoal stallion clearing his throat and slowly shrinking back. Rainbow was grinning, however, even as Applejack scoffed and said dryly: “If you injure him before he can even come to work for us, Big Mac, I'm gonna tell Granny Smith you're the one who broke her rocking chair.”

Big Mac winced and nodded moodily, even as he looked insistently at Scrivener, and the charcoal stallion sighed before raising his own hoof and mumbling: “Well, there are worse ways to get your legs broken.”