Midnight

For over an hour, Midnight endured the visit to the doctor. Through a myriad of questions and measurements, she quietly trudged through the process, giving Dr Patterson a good idea of what he was dealing with compared to Starla. Overall, the two of them are close on virtually every mark – when considering Midnight's stress levels during the visit for her stats on blood pressure and heart rate. Just as important was denoting Midnight's more unique attributes that were 'added' on. Some of that information came from X-rays, which were enlightening, to say the least.

The rest of the visit came down to questions. Some of those questions and recollections of her attributes were hard for her – leading to moments of silence or staring off into space. But a brief touch from me with some bullshit excuse for doing so brought her back in those moments.

Really, there wasn't much to this checkup at all, once we got over the first minor hurdles and some understanding of how everyone felt.

I'm relieved Midnight agreed to this so we have a starting point for any future bumps in the road that may occur – and I'm relieved it's all over. Unless something comes up, there's no reason to return for another year, which should go even easier than this first time.

I'm sure Midnight doesn't care about any of that – though as we walk out of the office, she remains mum. I'm expecting to hear how I owe her big for doing this once we're in private; I can live with that.

Night has completely overtaken the land as the doors shut behind us and the lights in the building go out. Teddy and Starla are already steps ahead of us after a brief exchange of thanks between Keith and me and a private phone number in case of concerns.

"G'night you two!" Teddy hollers as he opens the passenger door of his truck for Starla.

Standing beside Teddy, Starla hesitates and turns back toward me and Midnight, waving a hoof again. "Talk to you again soon, Middie!" she calls out before hopping into the truck.

Midnight remains mum – preferring to just wave back and offer the faintest grin.

"Drive safe – thanks again, Teddy," I tell him, reaching for the door handle of the Trailduster just as Teddy climbs into his truck. He offers his own friendly wave goodbye before disappearing behind the tinted windows.

Meanwhile, Midnight has already taken her seat in our truck and closed the door behind her before I even pop open my own door. As I climb in, I see Midnight has her head turned to look out the passenger window, rather than pay me any attention.

Alright, so she is gonna be a bit miffed after all. While I understand it was difficult for her tonight, I did my best to explain the situation beforehand – and the doctor did as well, for that matter. As I fish my keys from my pocket, I start to think of how to walk on eggshells in conversation now that we both have one-on-one time once again.

"I'm sorry that tonight sucked – but you did really well tonight." It's a rather weak comment, but I feel that is the best I can do for an icebreaker.

Unfortunately, it doesn't appear to have struck a chord with her. Other than the hum of the starter and ensuing rumble of the Trailduster's engine, I'm left with continued silence; Midnight hasn't budged an inch.

"I did my best to try keeping things... I could tell you were a bit stressed, so I just tried doing what I could to help you relax," I tack on, beginning to consider the notion maybe she feels embarrassed. "I don't think anyone else noticed – I live with you, so I see your different sides and have a good read on you, y'know?"

Admittedly, that's a very stupid comment, considering I'm trying to figure out what ails her at the moment. But stupid is my middle name – I just want her to talk to me. Having her this quiet right now for this long is starting to become unsettling.

Yet I'm still left in the dark. I turn to take stock of the world outside since I'm not getting anywhere with Midnight at the moment. A few spots down, Teddy's truck is still parked in its spot, though the lights are on; through the tinted windows, I can see the pair inside are having a discussion about something at this point before heading out.

"Midnight, if you're mad at me, just say it. I've got tough skin," I sigh, turning my attention back to her. "I'd rather you say something rather than bottle i—" Just as I turn my head back to look at her, Midnight lunges at me. Just by sheer instinct, I flinch and recoil away from her, thumping my head against the driver's side window.

But in the blink of an eye – Midnight's form is draped atop me. "That was fucking horrible!" she cries, clutching at me with her hooves and burying her face in my chest. "It felt like reliving some of my nightmares!"

While my heart is thumping at a faster rate with the sudden shock, I can feel Midnight's heartbeat racing at Mach speed – which is quickly in danger of being overtaken by her breathing. "Hey, hey – I got you," I tell her, the second time that my instincts take over while I put my arms around her. I clutch her to my body and just... I hug her. I hug her to let her know that I'm the only thing she needs to trouble her mind with right now. "It's you and me, Mid – just breathe."

But even as I try to calm her, I'm mentally rattled and trying to corral myself at the same time. I've never seen her in this sort of distress – nor have I seen her come uncorked like the flip of a switch. What the hell did I miss that made her go from calm and quiet to... this? And reliving nightmares?

Before anything... I don't really know what hyperventilating is, but I know it isn't good. The shallow, rapid breathing Midnight is continuing to display is the main concern I need to be dealing with.

"Midnight, deep breaths. In... Out..." I instruct her, hoping she'll listen to and focus on my calm voice. I have to repeat it a few more times before she finally seizes on my coaching and begins to follow along. While I keep one arm locked around her body, I get my other hand petting her in the same rhythm of my instructions, which seems to help her grasp the tempo a bit better.

But she's wrapped herself so tightly around me, that I can't move much else at this point in time. She continues to leave her head buried in my shirt and under her hair – a darkened cocoon to shut away the rest of the world. Apparently, a faraway world that she left long ago has found a sinister way to return.

I happen to notice the engine of the truck is not the only rumble I hear – I'm able to turn my head enough to look out the driver's window and spy Teddy still parked nearby. More significantly, a pair of sad violet eyes look back at me as Starla watches with concern in full view, having rolled her window down. I can make out Teddy peering around Starla's form – but regardless of their worries, my priority is Midnight and her privacy. I pause my petting just long enough to raise my arm and gesture an 'OK' before waving the pair away.

I don't keep looking at them, preferring to just... look forward. Really, I'm not using my eyes at this point, just focusing on Midnight and helping her to calm down. It's a gradual process that I don't time or concern myself with – I'm not letting her go until she wants me to do so.

"I'm alright," Midnight's muffled voice mumbles after a long period of relative silence. I feel her beginning to ever so slightly ease her way off of me; while I keep my arm around her, I relinquish the tight embrace I have held on her since this incident began. When she finally inches away enough, she raises her head from my chest to finally give me a glimpse of her face.

Weary is the first descriptor that comes to mind when I take in the sight. A torrent of energy evidently came out with... whatever that was. A panic attack, maybe?

I'll leave terminology to be nitpicked later – right now I focus on brushing away a couple of tears that have managed to eke their way out from the corners of Midnight's glowing blue eyes. "You're alright," I repeat back to her, affirming her statement even if it doesn't quite fit the situation.

While for different reasons, both of us happen to take a deep breath and exhale in unison. Finally hearing her speak calmly and able to look at me again is a relief; I feel as if I've been holding my breath this entire time. "You had me scared for a bit there, Middie," I admit.

"Yeah, I... that was hard to deal with," she mumbles, lowering her gaze again to look at my chest. But after minutes of having to be deprived of her face in a similar way, I tuck my hand under her chin and coax Midnight to look at me again.

"I thought you did really well tonight. I mean that," I reiterate.

"You helped. At least at the start... and a little bit here and there..." Her pupils dart back and forth as she trails off.

"You had it under control. All I did was assure you from time to time, y'know?"

"Yeah..." It's quite an underwhelming, insincere response. While I'm trying to talk her up and give her some pep again, she is reluctant to take any of it to heart.

Maybe it's because my nerves are already frayed, but her reactions do not sit right with me. "Everything seemed to go pretty smooth, you didn't seem all that worked up once we got past the introductions," I comment, hoping to get some sort of answer from her.

"It... it was manageable I guess," she mumbles back, almost sounding shameful as she closes her eyes. "Sometimes you just gotta grit your teeth and bear through it – and sometimes you have to do it longer than you thought it would last."

Well, there's a confession if I've ever heard one. The thought of sitting in a room for over an hour bottling up fear and anxiety in silence is enough to make my stomach churn. While the shame in her voice makes sense, it doesn't make what she did to get through it sound any better.

I have to bite my tongue for a moment as disappointment lurks in the back of my head. After all the times I've asked her to be open with me, this matter was left to fester for the whole evening – and probably longer than that.

"Bottling it up doesn't seem to have worked in this situation, Middie," I state, keeping my voice level. "I wouldn't consider what I just witnessed and talked you out of a success, would you?"

"...not a complete success, no. But I made it through the visit," she counters in an argument as weak as her voice spits out. "What would you propose I have done?"

"Asked for a moment away, asked for a quick breather outside – whatever you needed. You could have asked to have everyone step outside and just talk to me behind closed doors – I doubt any of that would have been a problem."

"I don't want to look like a bitch," she mutters, almost on reflex.

I can't help it – frustration finally gets the best of me with that answer. "Are you shitting me, Mid?" I spout in exasperation.

Midnight's brow hardens in an instant as she takes offense to my outburst. "Well fuck, everyone else makes it seem like it's no big fucking deal to be here!" she bellows back. "For fuck's sake, while I'm in there being put under a microscope, Starla's sitting there chumming it up with the doctor like they're longtime friends! What the fuck does that say if I need to tuck tail and scamper away for a few minutes bec—"

Everything she's using as an argument sickens me, but one detail in particular lights a fire under my ass in an instant. I grab Midnight with both hands and firmly shake her to cut off the excuses. "You aren't Starla, you stubborn ass!"

With my unexpected reaction, Midnight's eyes widen and she falls silent. "I know I'm not," she retorts in an uncharacteristic meek voice. The split second following that recharges her enough to tack on an equally quiet "dickhead."

Midnight's response – more significantly, the lack of bite – forces me to take stock of what I'm doing. While hardly aggressive enough to even cause discomfort, I'm ashamed as I let Midnight go and reel myself back in. As Midnight eases back into her separate corner, I cut the ignition to the truck, and everything falls silent once again.

I'm frazzled by... everything. It's terrifying to watch someone I care about get engulfed in a panic attack like that while I try to figure out what to do to calm her and bring her back from the edge. It's beyond frustrating that someone I care so much about still feels the need to put on a mask to face challenges – even after time and time again, I've begged her to rest her head on my shoulder when she needs a moment. And she's been good about that more often than not, to the point I figured we had an understanding.

But tonight wipes that away. Midnight still feels the need to be a hardass – nothing should bother her. Except it does behind closed doors.

But it's more than that – I'm scared, plain and simple. I do what I can to help Midnight out, but I'm no psychologist. I haven't a clue how to deal with things like tonight, and I'm scared of what happens if Midnight keeps trying to suppress shit like tonight, or even a week ago during the sleepover with her memory flashback.

I don't know how to tackle stuff like this that's coming back to haunt her. She apparently remembers more than she's willing to let on, and those memories are strong enough and traumatic enough to torment her from time to time.

"I thought... I didn't think it was going to be a major issue," Midnight says quietly. "I've been able to grin and bear it before, numerous times... I've never done – what happened when we got back in here was new to me. It just all caught up at once, I guess."

"I thought you were just pissed at me, Middie. Honestly, I sort of wish that had been the case," I sigh, leaning forward and resting my head on the rip of the steering wheel.

"You wanted me to be mad at you? Really?" she asks, skeptical of my claim.

I turn my head to look at her. "Midnight, you scared the absolute shit out of me. You understand that, don't you?" I counter. Maybe the outburst did me some good, as I'm finding it much easier to remain calm now.

But Midnight looks lost by my claim. Even though she herself admits that sort of full-on break I a new experience, she doesn't connect the significance of what it's like to be witness to such a thing.

I sit back up in my seat, keeping my eyes on her the whole time. "Midnight, how else am I supposed to feel when someone I love is hyperventilating in my arms? How am I supposed to feel if I'm trying to help out someone I love who may be having a mental breakdown – and I have no idea how to stop it? Does that make sense?"

"I... I guess I didn't think it was that bad." Despite her claim, there is no conviction in her voice; she's trying to convince herself as much as me at the moment. But her ears don't lie, for they droop as low as her spirits right now.

"I'm sorry to tell you – it was that bad, Mid. That's why I said I'd rather have had you pissed at me. That I know and can work through. This... this was something else. And what was that about nightmares? Reliving nightmares?"

Midnight averts her eyes, preferring to find interest in the floorboards of the Trailduster rather than you. "I've had some nightmares here and there in the past week. I don't know if they're actual memories I forced down or just pieces of what I went through, but..."

"And those seemed to be perfectly fine to ignore and shove aside, too?"

"It's hard, John. I know what you're saying, but... the thought of talking about it is hard."

"But what good is biting your tongue doing, Midnight? What good did it do tonight?" I protest, almost pleading with her at this point to listen. "For god's sake, I've told you before and I'll say it again and again – lean on me. I don't want you to get stuck in this shit. Help me help you."

But Midnight has nothing to say as she raises her head – and glances out her window. Despite my pleading, despite what has transpired in the last ten or so minutes, Midnight remains steadfast in her desire to 'deal with it' on her own.

What I thought had been a relatively positive night has turned itself upside down in a matter of moments. I feel helpless and angry – angry at Midnight for being this stubborn, and angry with myself for feeling anger towards her. Can I really blame her for being so stuck in her ways? I don't know – but I thought we had left this kind of shit behind. Both the secrets and the past.

But there's no point in sitting here being miserable. With a sigh of resignation, I reach back to the truck's ignition switch and twist the—

The keys aren't in the ignition. I turned off the engine just moments ago and left them to hang there. But a search around the floor at my feet in the dark turns up empty. So too does the quick patdown of my pockets.

Yet in a brief moment where I pause to consider my next search, a weight manifests on my right shoulder. It's a weight that is accompanied by the tickle of hair against my face, and hair falling limply down my chest and back.

I don't need a hint to tell me what it is – and I know turning my head is just going to greet me with a mass of blue and violet mane. But the other piece of the puzzle falls into place as a set of keys is tossed into my lap – the keys that had gone missing.

"What do you want to know?" Midnight's hushed voice questions.

Well, that's being put on the spot – after everything just discussed, where do I begin?

Well, the beginning might be good. "What was... what bothered you about the clinic?"

"There were a lot of things that bothered me," she responds, keeping her voice low. But the statement isn't a dismissal – it's an admittance that she doesn't know where to begin, either.

"What was the first thing you noticed in there that felt... wrong?"

"The smell." It's a response that comes with no hesitation. "That smell of... cleanliness. Chemical cleaners to sterilize, clean up... the aftermath. Get everything spic and span for the next time they decide to 'try something new'."

Keen to keep Midnight continuing on with this exercise now, I nod my head, keeping my tongue silent.

"That was the first thing when we went through the doors was that chemical smell – that started bringing back... things," she mumbles, as if now in a trance. "But I... I was able to put that aside. Then we went down the hall and it was— that sound."

"The sound?"

I feel Mid nod her head on my shoulder. "That echo of footsteps. I've never forgotten the way they sound. There is nothing that replicates the sound of steps on tile echoing in a narrow, plaster-walled hallway," she whispers. "If I heard footsteps heading in my direction, it always made me tense; I didn't get visitors unless they had a purpose. That purpose either involved a new idea, checking in on the progress of the current idea, or fetching me to test for results."

I feel her quiver slightly following that statement, forcing me to put my arm around her whether she likes it or not. Considering she scoots up closer to me... it's a good call.

"It— the longer we were in there, the more I felt like I was reliving those horrible days. Like I was stuck there, just waiting to see head dick and his cronies come in, ready to take me back."

"That's not going to happen – I won't let it."

"I know – but it's... I'm scared of how much I remember. How something like tonight can bring back so many feelings," she says. It's the first time I can recall ever hearing her sound so... helpless.

Yet it must be infectious, for that same feeling starts to well up inside me. I can beat back anyone who wants to harm Middie or take her away, but I can do nothing to beat back past trauma from coming back to torment her. I can give her a hug and dry her tears, but when it comes to memories coming back, I can only offer to listen.

But I'll make sure I do the best I can do if that's the only avenue I have. That being said, I still need Midnight's help. Her silence now gives me an opportunity to speak up. "Middie, I need you to promise me we are not repeating tonight. Ever again."

"You won't hear an argument from me. I'll happily stay far away from vet clinics," she replies with a slight forced chuckle.

I know she's just trying to make the situation light-hearted, but this is a matter too serious to let such a thing slide. I turn my head to stare at her – just as she shifts her head enough to display a glimmer of blue light from one eye. But I say nothing; I prefer to wait for her to admit defeat.

"Sorry," she mumbles, deflated.

"You need to promise me you're gonna take a step back when things start feeling uncomfortable like tonight. You're a strong mare – but no one can just carry that kind of burden on her own. You proved that tonight, for better or worse."

Midnight sighs deeply as she pulls away and sits back on her side. I keep my eyes on her the whole time, waiting for a gesture or verbal confirmation. After a few seconds, Midnight slowly nods her head. "I don't want to repeat tonight, either. I promise, John," she solemnly swears.

Good. While she had already promised me before to open up when things were bothering her, tonight feels like a wake-up call that this is a promise to take seriously. I believe her, and I'll hold her to it – even if it means asking embarrassing questions to her when I feel something isn't... right.

With that settled, I snatch up my keys and get the truck running again. Just as I'm about to start backing up, my phone dings a notification. Pausing, I pull it out, curious as to who would be trying to contact me this late at night.

Of course, I should have expected that – Teddy's name pops up with a new message notification. But as I select it and open it up on the touchscreen... I realize I'm just a bit off on identification.

'Ids mifdnioght ok? :('

Either Teddy has hit the sauce bottle hard in a matter of a few minutes, or someone lacking digits necessary for texting on a small device has taken command out of concern.

I pass Midnight my phone just before we start rolling back out of the parking spot. "Here. Answer your big sis – I think you scared the crap out of her, too."

"I guess it really was that bad," Midnight laments. Nevertheless, reading the message earns a snort of amusement from her. "Either Teddy turned off autocorrect, or autocorrect wanted nothing to do with deciphering and fixing Star's attempt to type."

Maybe it's relief after the stress of tonight – but I laugh way harder than what's probably appropriate at Midnight's comment. Before long, Middie herself joins in on the guffaws. It injects a bit of much-needed positivity into the night as we set off for home.