Midnight

As I ease open my laptop and power it on, I'm already beginning to feel ill at ease. It's a feeling that is accompanied by a bit of shame, but I guess I can't really help either of them – and both are ultimately a result of my own actions.

But I've been delaying a video chat with Starla for almost a week now – primarily because I know she wants a better understanding of what happened that night we went to the doctor's office. Dodging inquiries about it is easy going back and forth via email – not so much when it comes to live chats. But I know she means well in her questioning – which is why I feel so bad now.

As the home screen flashes into view, I find the chat icon is already blinking, desperate for my attention. With a sigh of resignation, I click on it, allowing the chat to pop up and begin connecting. In a matter of seconds, Starla appears from the other end, her face taking up almost the whole video window.

"Midnight!" she cries, a bit too loud for the volume level of the laptop right now. "I was starting to get worried we would never get to video chat again."

"I know, I'm sorry about that, Star. I've just been really busy as of late," I lie.

"How have you been doing?" she asks, already leading into the territory I expected. "You know, the last time I saw you..."

"Yeah, it wasn't a particularly pretty sight, was it?" I wisecrack. Despite my best attempts to lighten the air, I feel my face grow a little warm. It still feels awkward to talk about... well, having a panic attack. I feel like I should be better than that; while I've come to grips that it happened, it doesn't do much to dampen my feelings that the past should all be behind me, not continuing to plague me.

To my surprise, Starla shakes her head. "I'm not worried about looks, sis – I felt bad for you," she explains solemnly. "Yeah, we've messaged back and forth here and there, but not actually talking with you until now... I've been worried."

The pit in my stomach grows with that little revelation. I've been thinking about me and how I feel talking about all this – but avoiding video chats has left Starla in the dark. I hadn't really thought of it that way; even though the cold and logical side of me is trying to jab me into believing it's none of her business...

It is her business, because she cares. I feel dirty now that I realize skirting around this has caused Star to endure the unknown of how I'm really doing. As much as she's helped me over the last few months out of the good of her heart, she deserves better from me.

"I know, and I'm sorry," I apologize with a sigh. "I know it sounds bad, but I'm going to be honest with you – I've been coming up with excuses to not get on. It's not... I know you want to know what happened. But I'm ashamed of it. You know as well as I do I hate being vulnerable and opening up. And yet now that I'm saying this out loud I'm doing the same thing that got me into trouble that night."

Through my explanation, Starla's expression runs through a gamut of changes; from glum at the start, to understanding with a thin smile, to general confusion by the end. "I guess in the back of my mind, I thought you might have been trying to avoid me and talking about that night. I get it," she replies trying to assure me of no hard feelings.

"That doesn't make it right. You've helped me a lot, more than I could ever repay you for – and I know you want to know because you care and want to help. So I really am sorry," I repeat, taking a deep breath as I recollect my thoughts. "I'm doing better, but that night was hell for me. Right from the get-go I was uncomfortable – and I just kept forcing myself to push through. I did, but then... it all came crashing down, which is what you saw."

"Aww Middie... I wish I could hug you through the computer right now," she mumbles, looking at me with sad eyes. "It just reminded you of what you had been through before, didn't it?"

I nod my head. "Yeah, it ran through the whole gauntlet – sights, sounds, smells... it brought back a lot of horrendous memories. I didn't expect that at all – and it just kept getting worse. I think John was the only reason I was able to get through it... and that only lasted for the doc visit and the walk outside."

"You know none of us would have batted an eye or taken exception to you asking for some time, right?" Starla asks, playing it cautiously just in case.

But I know she's right – there's not been any doubt in my mind about asking for assistance from John, Starla, or Teddy – I'm just too prideful for that sort of thing.

"I know – and I've been talking with John about this. I'm trying to learn to... not be so hard-headed. I hate that I have these moments or nightmares where the past starts coming back, because that's the past, and I want to let go of that. But for some reason, it still bothers me. I hate admitting that – and that's where the pride thing comes in."

"I didn't know you were having nightmares too – when did that start?"

"Uh... well let me start by saying you have no reason to feel guilty. But it was shortly after our sleepover – after having that flashback out in the yard. I guess it sort of uncorked some other memories."

Despite my assurances, Starla's expression sours, with any trace of her normal bubbly demeanor sucked out of her. It's an infectious feeling that carries back over to me, and for a short bit, silence wins out over conversation while each of us figures out what to say.

"You know I'm always willing to listen if you need an ear, Mid," Starla finally speaks up, breaking through her somber face to offer a heartfelt smile. "I'm sure talking about it has to do some good – at least, it's better than keeping it to yourself."

"Yeah, I just had a nightmare one or two nights ago, and though it felt awkward to share it with John at first, I have to say I did feel like a weight was lifted off of me. So I'm trying to improve, and it's definitely better than keeping mum about it to be 'tough' so far. It just sorta feels like I'm going backward, you know? Dealing with this now?"

"I don't think you're going backward – it sounds like the opposite to me," Starla suggests. "Could it be now that you're comfortable... like, maybe stuff you had to cram away has time to unpack? Like actually dealing with it?"

"Maybe? I dunno, John has been the one trying to read up on psychology, and he hasn't found much," I admit, shrugging my shoulders.

"I guess the most important thing is you're doing better and learning from that night," Starla says, nodding her head. "I'm glad to finally hear from you – and I have news of my own to share."

The announcement tacked onto the end reinvigorates Starla to her normal self almost instantly. It's good to see after such an unpleasant topic that preceded it – but I can't imagine what sort of 'news' she may have in store. Regardless, I can't help but crack my own grin as anticipation builds. "What's going on in your part of the world, Star?"

"Ever since coming home from the sleepover, Teddy and I have been talking about getting 'out' more. A bit like you and John," Starla explains, flipping her hair back. "Teddy sorta realizes now we've been moving backward in that regard – when moving out here was supposed to be an opportunity for us to be more free. But old habits die hard... which is quite the coincidence to say, after the discussion we just had, huh?"

"I'm certainly testament to the idea – I have no problem admitting that now," I laugh.

"It's easy to fall into habits – and Teddy will be the first to admit, he gets very protective of me, sometimes to a fault," Starla continues. "So we've both been sort of setting goals and working toward small outings, such as going to the grocery store yesterday evening. I have to say, it had been almost a year since the last time I was there – I couldn't believe how much changed inside. And I got some new ideas to try after looking around, but that's a whole other story."

"I haven't done any cooking yet myself – hell, John hasn't lately, either. I guess it wasn't a complete lie when I said we've been busy," I chip in. "But anyway – what's the goal in mind for you?"

"That's also why I bring this all up, because you might have some interest in it," Starla teases. "Toward the end of the month, there's a car show the next town over in the main square – Teddy is thinking of taking the Cutlass out there to display and walk around, with me as company!" Her voice sped up by the end, Starla finishes off by gleefully clapping her hooves together a few times before settling back down.

"Damn, that sounds great – and I wish we had the Chrysler ready to join you," I chime in.

"Well, you don't have to have a car to display to be there. I was wondering if all goes well and we decide to go – would you like to come along? I wouldn't mind having a wingmare to keep me straight. To be honest, I'm excited and a bit nervous," Starla remarks, uncertainty tainting her voice at the end.

The sudden shift, as subtle as it may be, still managed to catch me off guard – particularly as this is a goal Starla herself wants to reach. "What exactly has you concerned about the idea, sis?" I ask, cocking my head.

"I guess my worry is getting carried away. It's going to be a fairly big social gathering, and ponies – well, bots – are welcome, and while we're working toward being more social, there's still a line there, you know?"

"I... think I understand?" I reply, questioning myself as much as my answer. "To be fair, I don't do a whole lot of talking to others when John and I are out. That's not really interesting to me – but granted, I kinda have trust issues. I really have to think before I say anything – which has gotten better with time."

"You seem pretty open and fluid right now," Starla counters.

"Well yeah, I know you and have a good idea of the standing between us. Don't forget I accidentally called you stupid once."

"I had forgotten that until now," Starla mutters, feigning some semblance of hurt feelings. It doesn't last long before she's forced to stifle a giggle behind a hoof. "But that's what I mean; I'm the exact opposite of you as I don't really feel that sort of apprehension around folks I'm unfamiliar with. I have a more... a naive view of the world."

"Well, you acknowledge the problem right now, that's gotta be a... a step in the right direction. Like me with admitting I try to keep too much bottled up, yeah?"

"It's one thing to talk about it and acknowledge that right now, but in the moment – I guess I share Teddy's concern that I'll be too open, just start getting carried away if I get into a conversation with someone – or somepony," she adds with a smirk.

"Ugh, that was terrible, Star. You have no idea how hard I have to fight off the desire to cringe at that," I groan in what is mostly a jesting manner. "So you suggesting I sorta be the little angel on your shoulder to help guide you?"

"Yeah! I figure between my overwhelming friendliness and your guarded nature, we would balance each other out."

"I don't know if I can pass off the look of an angel."

"True..."

"Hey, you weren't supposed to agree with that!" I cry out, garnering a laugh from Starla.

"Well, you sort of set yourself up for that," Starla floats. "But anyway, nothing is set in stone right now. And I realize you two have your own lives and work to balance, so if it all happens to work out and the stars align..."

"I'm always up for a car show, and I don't think it would be too much trouble to twist John's arm into attending. Worse comes to worse, I'll just steal the Trailduster."

"Orrr, if John was okay with it, Teddy and I could probably pick you up en route. But I suppose we'll talk about that more later."

"I dunno how much advice I can give... you know, us just talking right now. But I'd be willing to help you any way I can, Star. You've done more than enough for me, I'd like to return the favor in at least a small part."

"Aww, no need to be counting favors – I got me a sister out of it, that's more than I've given, you know?" she suggests with a chuckle. "But don't be afraid to reach out to me either if you're feeling troubled with a nightmare or another flashback."

"I'll keep it in mind."

"Just remember, we're all here for each other in our little group. I want to help you as much as you want to assist me. But we can't get anywhere unless we talk."

"Yeah... but you're starting to get a little preachy now," I tease her.

"I wouldn't have to if my little sis wasn't so stubborn," Starla retorts, putting on an exaggerated stern face to go along with her tone.

"I like to think my stubbornness is an endearing trait," I coo, tossing my hair back and smirking as Starla rolls her eyes, laughing at my show. But she suddenly stops, her eyes lit up.

"Oh, have you gotten the package I sent yet?" she questions.

"Yeah, just a day or two ago – I opened it up and wow, you sent everything!"

"Not everything, but a fair bit of stuff that I had that was either replaced or I don't use. It should give you a good start with the tips and sites I linked you to," she says, her grin creeping ever wider. "Any idea when you'll be using em to knock John's socks off?"

"I think you're giving me a bit too much credit," I comment with a laugh. "I don't think I'm going for anything exotic. But John mentioned doing a 'proper' date at some point – I like the idea of that. Sooner or later, I think we'll set something up."

"Maybe down the road we can do a 'proper' double date. That would be a lot of fun," Starla sighs, caught up in the idea as her eyes stray off to places elsewhere momentarily. "But, baby steps till we get there. Overall, I'm glad to finally hear from you."

"I'm glad I finally reached out. I shouldn't have waited so long, for both your sake and mine. I'm not gonna repeat that mistake."

"Well, I'm gonna hold you to that," Starla announces, pointing a hoof at me. "But ta-ta for now, I've got my own project brewing in the kitchen."

"No worries. Talk to you later, sis."

With a brief wave beforehand, the screen goes blank from the other end. I close the windows and shut the laptop, setting it aside on the coffee table and taking an invigorating deep breath.

After that conversation – all of it – everything feels more open. It feels like there are so many more opportunities ahead of me that I don't think I could have or would have found interest in months or even weeks ago. It's been a hard lesson to learn, but being more open is... it feels good. It feels lighter.

With extra pep in my step, I hop off the couch and waltz through the kitchen, stopping momentarily at the door leading to the shop downstairs. Feeling confident in what I'm about to face, I plaster on my biggest smile and swing open the door.

Sure enough, John stands beside the doorframe. "You kept part of that conversation intentionally vague didn't you?" he mutters.

"Sure did – I told Starla beforehand that she should keep any questions about that package vague, in case you wanted to try and eavesdrop on girl talk," I gloat. "Correct on that call, wasn't I?"

"Well, I know it's for a possible date in the future, that's something," he blurts, trying to find a silver lining in his failed attempts at spying.

"Mhmm, and that's about all you're gonna get until the time is right. Congrats."

John suddenly snaps his fingers, then points at me with wide, frenzied eyes. "It's clothes, isn't it? That's gonna be it."

"Nope. Clothes can't improve on this," I boast, striking a pose and flaring my wings out just a bit. "We tried clothes during the sleepover one morning before you woke up – I wasn't a fan."

"You mean I missed out on dress-up?" he whines, slumping his shoulders. "You're fucking mean."

I can't help but chuckle at his childish attitude, even as I strut past him and head down the steps. "Come on you big baby – we got a Hemi whose top end isn't gonna rebuild itself."