What Happened To Discord?

“Pinkie? You here?” I walked into Sugarcube Corner, my nose scrunching as I looked around for her. The first floor was empty, void of any other ponies and herself. I made my way up the stairs and that’s when I saw a corkboard full of photos, news clippings, and red string that conjoined them all… something you’d see in a police station over a murder.

“Apple Jack?” I turned around, noticing Pinkie Pie as she walked towards me.

“What’s all this?” I asked, looking back up at the board. The conjunction of photos and clippings was rather confusing… They were vastly different from each other, but the more I looked into it, the more I realized how similar they were.

“I was just…” she shook her head, “It’s nothing.”

“Sure? Doesn’t look like nothin’.”

“It’s just— if I tell you, do you promise you won’t tell anypony else?”

“I… okay.”

“Promise, Apple Jack. Please?”

“I promise.” I felt a lump form in my throat, I couldn’t imagine what she must’ve found out or even thought about that made her so terrified to tell anypony else. I didn’t even notice how tense my body was till she walked downstairs.

“I don’t think he killed himself.” She abruptly said, looking out of the window by the front door before locking it.

“What?”

“You know how Princess Celestia refused to let anypony in his dimension? I… snuck in during the investigation. Nopony was there but… I… I don’t think it was his doing.”

“Wait what? Do you even hear yourself right now, Pinkie? Do you even realize what you’re suggesting? You think he was murdered?”

“I don’t know what I think… I haven’t been able to think straight since…” I stopped her from completing that thought.

“Which is exactly why this is nonsense!” I stopped, realizing my tone was a bit overboard, “Pinkie look… I-I know this is hard for you, it’s hard for all of us, but you’re hurting yourself more than you realize. Clarity, it’s what we all want, but they confirmed it was suicide.”

“They didn’t confirm anything. They stopped the investigation ‘cause they couldn’t find any evidence that it wasn’t. But just because they couldn’t, doesn’t mean that it isn’t. Besides, If I recall correctly… I saw a rose by his body.”

“And how could a rose determine he was murdered?” My brows furrowed, at this point, I figured this was just a way Pinkie was coping, but it was getting more and more concerning the more she spoke.

“Remember that prank we did when we all gave Discord a bunch of Valentine's Day gifts… saying it was from a bunch of different ‘secret admirers’? And then Discord got sick for a few days after Rarity got him roses?”

“Didn’t he say he was allergic?”

“My point exactly. Discord refused to get roses for Fluttershy that day, and it’s why Fluttershy refused to use roses for his funeral.”

“…and what else did you find…?” I didn’t want to encourage this kind of behavior, but the more I thought of it, the more intrigued it made me.

“You remember how the funeral was a closed casket? I think I know why, and it wasn’t because they didn’t want us to be more traumatized. If that was the case— every funeral would have a closed casket. But listen— when I saw his body… his neck looked almost ripped open. If it was true he hanged himself, his neck would be bruised and broke, not cut open.”

“And how do you know that hoof-saw he used to cut himself wasn't used to... you know?”

“I doubt it… it didn't look intentional and it was just on the corners of his neck. And... you remember when the case was closed early? The Noble Council ordered it to be. I think they’re hiding something… I don't think Discord would do this, and even if he thought of it, I’m sure he would’ve left a note or even told somepony about it. Look I know this is a big stretch but I seriously think something is off about this.”

I thought long and hard about a reply… some parts of me wanted to encourage this search, and even offer a helping hoof, but the other? My gut twisted and turned, almost instinctively telling me something wasn’t right. I finally decided on what I wanted to say, and I let out a long sigh before meeting her eyes, “I… I don’t know, Pinkie Pie. This just seems crazy. And if I’m to be honest, I think you should just stop this search for answers… ‘cause chances are, you won’t hear what you want to hear.”

“I—I’m not lying!”

“And I ain’t sayin’ you are, but Pinkie… this ain’t helpin’ you and you know it. A-and if anypony else saw you like this? Frantically searching for evidence that supports murder? You’ll scare them, Pinkie. It’s hard enough as it is, but that'll just hurt everypony else as much as it does to you.”

“I thought you’d believe me…”

“I believe that this is… hard for you.”

Her nose scrunched, “Gah— stop saying that!” She suddenly snapped, “I know everypony thinks I’m just some crazy… bitch… with hallucinations, but I know what I saw!”

“I ain’t calling you crazy I just—“

“You just what?” She turned away from me, “You wanted to check in on me? Make sure I’m not spazzing out on the floor with foam in my mouth like some feral timberwolf?”

“That’s not what I’m sayin’.”

“No, that is what you’re saying!” She looked back at me.

“That ain’t what I’m sayin’.” I repeated.

“It is! You and everypony else think I’m so traumatized that I can barely talk anymore, and that whatever does decide to come out of my mouth is nothing but stupid misinformation.” She stopped, sighing before turning away yet again, “I’m scared, Apple Jack. I… I loved him so much and now he’s gone. And I think that if I had just talked to him more… and had gotten there sooner, maybe he’d be alive right now.”

I honestly had no idea what else to say. I thought up over one hundred different sentences to say but the moment I finally opened my mouth, all that squeaked past my vocal cords was a simple: “I’m sorry.”

“Just go, Apple Jack. I’ll be okay. Thanks for checking in on me.”

I nodded. I knew it was too late to try to press for more answers about this strange idea, and she was too frustrated to commit to small talk, so I just turned around and approached the door.

“I’ll— I’ll check in on you tomorrow, okay? Maybe we can go out somewhere…? And I’ll… I’ll try to listen to this idea of yours.”

“Really?” She cleared her throat, “Okay… that sounds good, Apple Jack. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I let out a scoff, a small smile appearing on my face before I finally left the building. I won’t lie, it was odd. The closed-casket despite Fluttershy’s protests, and the whole ordeal of Discord one day deciding to just kill himself… it was sickening. But maybe Pinkie was wrong… My therapist would always say that depression has multiple faces—one of which being a façade of happiness.