Midnight

Work has kept Midnight and me busy; a large influx of orders the last couple of days has had the two of us scurrying around the junkyard quicker than a cat burying shit on a hot tin roof. It's been great for the business and finances, but left the pair of us tired in the evenings. As a result, I haven't accomplished much with the Hemi rebuild for the Chrysler. I took the time to install it on the engine stand the same day we brought it home and started fitting crank bearings...

That's about it. Midnight has been tired enough to pass on any work to the 300 in the evenings, too – an oddity for her, but from my vantage point, completely understandable.

And yet... It worries me a little bit, since it isn't like her to wave the white flag and let fatigue win over project progress. While I know I'm likely overthinking things, the immediate aftermath of the doctor's visit refuses to leave my mind. The concern lingers, and I can't deny I have reservations about what that visit and outburst could leave behind.

So, with another evening set for relaxing on the couch, I do just as I have the prior few nights – fiddle around on the laptop. Midnight had been perfectly content to watch auctions on TV, leaving me with free rein over what was once my laptop... that I hardly get to use anymore.

...I tell myself I'm just playing around looking through the internet, but that doesn't last long. Every night, my mind turns back to Midnight, picturing her wrapped around me in the throes of a panic attack – and realizing how much it terrified me to sit there almost helpless while trying to talk her down.

It's inevitably led me down the path of some serious reading; rudimentary how-tos and insights on trauma, panic attacks, and how to combat them as the afflicted individual, and as the outsider. How helpful they've been... well, I can't really say. I can make sense of some of it, and maybe I at least make myself feel better by exploring avenues to help her, but I've not found anything particularly eye-opening in the past handful of nights.

Tonight has been no different with an hour already under my belt.

"How the hell you've managed to avoid carpal tunnel syndrome this long is beyond me." Midnight's comment from out of the blue draws my focus away from the computer on my lap and over to the mare seated on the couch beside me.

"Huh?"

Midnight leans back, resting her head on the top cushion of the couch as she smirks at me. "I didn't think the joke was that difficult to understand," she says, moving her hoof in a demonstrative up-and-down stroking motion.

I have to roll my eyes, finding the joke barely passable considering the circumstances. "It would have made more sense if this wasn't, y'know, sitting on my lap?" I point to the computer with my left hand, while the right quickly closes out of the current browser window.

"You could be sneaking a game of pocket pool – you aren't that big," she jabs with a snicker.

"If I had a pillow, I'd hit you with it," I grumble in mock anger, glancing over to my left for a pillow I know does not exist.

However, as I turn my head back toward Midnight, a pillow levitates within reach for me. Midnight tosses her head back, clearing her hair away from the side of her face and offering up a clear target. "Here you go. Don't say I never help you out," she gushes in amusement.

I raise my hand as if to reach for the pillow, but stop short and drop my arm. "Nah, I wouldn't want to risk damaging that pretty face," I muse.

"As if I'm that delicate," she replies with a chuckle. "That sounds like the excuse of a bonafide bitch."

"Well now, with as much as you're trying to goad me into hitting you, I'm starting to think you got a kink for it," I shoot back with a sly grin.

Midnight's cockiness falters upon hearing my retort, allowing the pillow to fall back to the couch. "You always find ways to make innocuous things so fucking weird," she laments.

"Me? You're the one insinuating I'm over here flogging my dolphin while you watch TV," I protest.

It garners some stifled laughter from Midnight for a moment. But it fades away as she takes on a bit more serious expression, only tainted by the slightest smirk that refuses to extinguish. "I never knew you were such a sucker for psychology. You've been really invested in the subject the last couple of nights," she comments, batting her eyes at me.

...so she hasn't been watching TV as closely as I thought. My face grows warm as I try to think of how to answer her; after all, I figure looking into this would be a bit touchy for her, as if suggesting she's too delicate to deal with her issues as they come.

"You— ah, got a glimpse of what I was doing once or twice?"

"Nah, you've been pretty good at keeping the screen away from me," she answers, shaking her head. "What you haven't done is delete your browsing history, and since you seem so interested in reading all of a sudden, well... I decided I ought to peruse your sudden fascination for myself." It's an explanation that comes without missing a beat nor emitting an ounce of shame – preferring to take pride in her sleuthing.

"Huh. Guess I should have learned my lessons regarding computers after you went through my finances on the PC downstairs during your first week living with me."

"Oooh, I didn't take you for one to hold a grudge," she sasses, putting a hoof up to her mouth in a mocking gasp.

"It's fine. I'll heal in hell," I jab back, turning my nose up and crossing my arms.

"Oh, I'm sure," Middie chuckles, sliding up next to me. I give up my little charade and let my arms fall back to my sides.

"You don't seem upset about my current research project. I have to say I'm a little bit surprised by that," I admit, deciding to put an arm around her back.

I feel her shrug in response. "It wouldn't have stopped you anyway, and I recognize being pissy about such a little thing isn't worth it. It's not like what you're looking up is an attack on me – though I might have seen it that way, once upon a time."

"It's not that I don't trust you keeping your promise," I quickly add. But Midnight raises a hoof to stop me from going further.

"Let's be honest – I've not been doing very well with being open. It's something I've struggled with chronically since the day we met," she admits, hanging her head. "I guess... a couple of nights ago was unpleasant. For both of us. But I think it was more than that for me."

"More than... what exactly?" I ask, confused about where she's headed on this train of thought.

"More than – let's call a spade a spade. I cracked. I had a meltdown, panic attack – however you want to summarize, but it was a low point. But I guess in that instant, when it did happen... I didn't really even think. I just threw myself onto you. You were the rock I needed to hold me steady at that point in time."

Awestruck by Midnight's forwardness with her feelings, I can't do much other than nod in hopes she will continue her thoughts. She's gotten much better at letting her guard down over time, but it seems like once in a while, that easing out of her cocoon gets taken up a notch; this is feeling like one of those moments.

"I'm stubborn, I'm set in my ways – there's no way around that. But a lot of that is because I've always had to go it alone. The ups, the downs – I didn't have anyone to lean on or celebrate with. But I have folks that give a shit now, folks that want me to open up and... I don't want to say 'take advantage' because it's a two-way street, but I need to let go a little more. Help others help myself."

Midnight sucks in a breath of fresh air after that long-winded explanation. Maybe it's just the day catching up with her, or maybe that was a lot for her to come out and admit – but she suddenly looks very tired. I suspect she's been dwelling on this for about as much as I've spent trying to read up on helping her.

But she's been carrying baggage for a long, long time – tonight is another load allowed to drop free from her shoulders. I've told her numerous times to lean on me, with middling results; with the wake-up call a handful of days ago, it sounds like she understands why I push the idea. I pull her up closer to me, to which she freely yields with a slide across the cushion.

"If you were wondering, this is all me," she comments. Again, a statement that perplexes me, and my expression causes Midnight to realize clarification is in order. "I haven't talked to Starla since we got back from the doc visit. A back and forth once in messages but... I've kinda avoided touching on that with her. I've needed time to think on my own."

"Oh – I guess I hadn't even thought about some sisterly counseling," I admit, scratching my head. "I guess that goes to show I have more faith in your logic and reasoning than you thought."

"In my defense— actually I guess it would be in your defense if you had thought this was from sibling talk— I didn't have sound reasoning trying to grit my teeth and push through my anxiety. Kind of a big jump in thought processes between then and now."

"Fair point – but you're still the toughest, scariest, and most badass mare I know," I remark, trying to spark up that fiery confidence she usually displays.

At the very least, Midnight's face displays some amusement. "You know me and Starla. That's not a very big pool of candidates," she reminds me.

"There was that Twilight bot the first time we went to the store," I counter. "Also, some other bots I've seen in passing."

"Oh – my goodness, that changes everything!" she cries out in exaggerated tones.

"So I take it you really aren't bothered by me trying to look up some psychology shit behind your back in an effort to help you, huh?"

"Nah – though I'm guessing you haven't come up with much, huh?"

"Not really. I guess I'm not sure what I was looking for, either – not like there's gonna be a quick cure for what ails you. Pony psychologists aren't a thing, either."

Midnight shoots me a queer expression with that last quip, trying to read my face whether that was a sincere consideration.

"It was a bad joke," I affirm.

"I'll take your word for it," she replies, remaining wary. "But I will say it was sort of funny watching you act all sly with this reading in secret."

"How long before you caught on? This morning while going through the laptop?"

"Oh – no, it was the first night you started this endeavor. Quickly looked while you went downstairs for the bathroom," she replies without hesitation or regret. "You're never that honed in on your reading, so I knew something had to be up."

"You fucker." Quickly setting the laptop on the coffee table in front of us, I lean back into the couch, only to lower my shoulder and shove Midnight with a force only slightly above a token gesture.

Still, I know how these things usually go – the laptop does not need to become collateral.

"Don't push me, you stupid bastard," Midnight hisses, playing up her imaginary ire as she shoves me back, adding just a bit more power behind it.

"You hurt my feelings, made me think I was actually keeping it from you," I whine back at her. Turning my body, this time I shove Midnight over in a more proper manner with my hands on her side.

"You don't have feelings, you lying sack of shit," Midnight scoffs, straightening up her body as she recovers from my shove. One of her wings splays open, whacking me on the back and the back of the head with a decent *whump*.

It's enough force to push me forward a bit, but I exaggerate her strength, leaning all the way forward and grunting. "I'm pretty sure those are illegal weapons. You got a concealed carry license to have those at least?"

"You can see em even when they're folded up, dumb-dumb," Midnight retorts with a chuckle. For demonstration, she folds the appendage away, then motions to it with a hoof.

"Hmph. That was still assault – probably still deadly weapons. That's big jail time."

"Oh? And just what are you gonna do about it? Who are you gonna tell," she croons, plastering on a devious grin that just urges me to try my best.

Quick as a flash, I raise up my arm, index finger on my hand already stuck out in preparation to boop her on the nose. But Midnight is faster, and her foreleg halts my arm from movement before I'm halfway there.

"Really, that tired old play?" she sasses. "Come on, are you really just a one trick po—"

As she began to throw shade my way, I've snuck my other arm downward, and manage to goose her right on her lavender flank without any warning. Stopped dead in her tracks as she jolts up, Midnight's eyes widen at me.

"Boop?" I suggest.

Without a word, Midnight rises up to her hooves and steps forward to the edge of the couch. Taking a slow step toward me— I'm thrown to the couch. One of her legs darts out in a blink to hook me and toss me into a lying position. With that accomplished, she seamlessly spins around and straddles me. I shift around till I'm on my back, trying to figure out what is going on. That seems to be just what was expected of me, for Midnight grins and lays down atop me.

"For that move, you're gonna be the couch for the rest of the night," she states, stretching out her form. I feel her back hooves contact my feet, while her forelegs stretch out to dangle over either of my shoulders.

I feign a brief attempt to struggle against her but decide to 'accept' my fate. "Oh man, this is horrible," I groan, purposely devoiding my voice of emotion. I put my arms around her in an embrace, soaking in the soft warmth of her underbelly and the rhythmic beating of her heart.

"Don't blame me – this was the path you chose," she tacks on, keeping her voice low and ominous. Her wings ruffle against my arms, urging me to release her for a moment. I let her go, but my arms don't get far – briefly snapping open her feathery wings, the plumage snatches up my arms and eases them onto her sides as the appendages fold up once again. "There's no escaping this," she says, emitting a quiet, sinister laugh.

"You're awful. An absolute monster."

"Not a monster – a nightmare," she corrects. A devilish grin speaks across her muzzle, giving me a glimpse of her fangs in all their glory.

"Are we going with 'nightmare' here or 'night mare'?"

"Aww, listen to you trying to be all cute and funny," she croons, lowering her head to plant a smooch on my forehead. "Too late, it's not gonna save you."

I lay there and take my punishment now as Midnight rests her head down, right next to mine. I legitimately can't think of a worse torture now in all the world...