It was a Friday afternoon in Ponyville, almost an entire week since the party and since Lancer had arrived. There was a light shower going on, mostly aimed at the fields east of town, but the storm cloud's dark influence still stretched over the hamlet due to the underequipped weather team. Still, Ponyvillians weren't to be put down by a bit of rain, especially not during the summer rainy seasons, and walked through town with raincoats and umbrellas at the ready instead.

Cheerilee had walked through the rain to get to town, leaving from the schoolhouse at 3 o' clock. She usually let class go early on Fridays. The good rapport she had with pretty much every single student in the schoolhouse let her trust that most, if not all, of her lesson objectives for the day had been accomplished by the time 2:30 rolled around. On Friday, it was worth it to let them go to their weekends thirty minutes ahead of schedule. Every foal wanted to get to their weekend as soon as possible, after all, and if she kept them sitting in class until the very minute the bell rang they would stop paying attention to her and start paying attention to the clock instead.

Turning a corner, Cafe Hay came into sight. The quaint little coffee shop, prized for its hot drinks and its sandwiches, looked rather cozy. It looked even cozier as a light drizzle began to spittle down from the clouds, causing Cheerilee to lower her head and trot briskly across the cobblestones into the cafe.

The bell rang as she entered, and she gave a sigh as the air conditioned air cooled her down after the long walk. Wiping her muddy hooves off on the doormat, she looked around for her friends, before spotting them at one of the booths. Carrot Top, Octavia Melody, and Junebug, all gathered for their afternoon tea. It seemed they had gone ahead and ordered, with the empty seat already having a cup of tea steaming next to it.

With her hooves sufficiently clean, she walked over, greeting with, "Hi girls!"

"Good afternoon, Cheerilee," Octavia greeted as the other two waved, "How was work?"

"Oh, the usual," Cheerilee waved as she sat down, "Diamond Tiara came in with her cutie mark today."

"She's the daughter of the Riches, right?" Junebug asked, taking a tea cake from the display in the center of the table.

Cheerilee nodded, "She made sure to let the entire class know about it. The first actual accomplishment the filly's had in her life without help and it's her cutie mark," she huffed.

"Well, give it a year and she can tell all the adults about it as well at her cute-ceañera," Carrot Top mumbled.

"Joy," Octavia said dryly, reaching up to adjust her bowtie, "I keep my nose high, but kill me if I ever become like the Riches, girls."

The table shared a giggle. Cheerilee sipped her tea between her chuckles.

Junebug suddenly gave a cheeky grin towards Cheerilee, "Carrot Top here was telling me all about that new stallion that moved in next door~"

Cheerilee gave an unimpressed frown towards Carrot Top, "Okay. How has motormouth twisted the situation to make it look like I have a coltfriend again?"

Carrot Top spat her coffee out her nose with a wheeze. Octavia rolled her eyes, "Junebug is just teasing you, dear. She was just telling us about your visit."

"You didn't happen to be projecting about that coltfriend thing, were you?" Junebug prodded.

"I met him twice. He seems nice," Cheerilee said, trying to relax with another sip of tea. She didn't know why she was feeling defensive.

Octavia moved the conversation along after taking another sip of her own drink, "It's rather odd though. Aside from the first day he was here, and the Welcome to Ponyville Party, he's not been seen in town."

"I know Quills and Sofas were excited for a rich Canterlotian to come over and buy a new stock of furniture for that shambling old wreck of a house he has," Junebug commented, being an authority as she worked at the store on weekends.

"Probably been staying home and trying to clean what he can first," Cheerilee suggested.

"That place doesn't need a deep clean, it needs a wrecking ball," Carrot Top snarked, "Probably cost less to build a new house than to try and repair it. Did you see the bubbling on the wall by the foyer when we were there, Cheers?" when Cheerilee nodded, she continued, "Water damage. Probably from that sunken roof. Better hope that's not a loadbearing wall, or else that building's about to fall in on itself."

Octavia yawned, taking a bite of a cupcake and waited for the end of Carrot's spiel. Afterwards, she noted, "A shame that it was left to the rats and roaches. I was acquainted with the previous homeowner. She seemed like such a nice mare."

Cheerilee raised an eyebrow, curiosity instantly lighting in her eyes. Octavia was the oldest of the group, so it made sense that she would have known, "Oh? What do you know?"

"Her name was Starlit Beacon," Octavia offered, "Moved into Ponyville about three years ago. Her family was relatively well off, which is how I believe she got into possession of the home at such a young age. She was here writing a thesis for a doctorate in wild meteorology in pegasus-free zones, thus the proximity to the Everfree Forest."

"Huh," Cheerilee hummed, "So she just moved out and sold the house on once she was done?"

Octavia shook her head, "No. It was a tragic thing, really. Got her diagnosis from Ponyville General as soon as she came back from getting her doctorate in Manehatten. Dead, just a few short months later."

Junebug grimaced, "Darn."

Octavia shrugged, "I did not know her too well and the funeral was held outside of Ponyville. I sent some flowers, but that was it. Later, somepony came to her home to move some furniture around and switch off the power. Her house sat idle ever since... well until now, I suppose."

"Wait, so-" Cheerilee frowned thoughtfully, before asking, "Did you know if it was her family that cleaned up the property before abandoning it?"

"I never met her family, so I could not tell," she took a sip of her tea, "I'm not Spoiled Rich. Aside from you three, I don't have gossip spies keeping tabs on every single visitor coming in and out of town, especially not back then."

"Lancer told me he bought the house recently, but if it's been abandoned and not for sale for so long..." Cheerilee shook her head, "Ah, what am I saying? They probably negotiated the sale out of town."

Junebug, however, changed the subject once again, leaning in over the table, "Did Lancer tell you that while you were sitting all alone at a table together, staring into each other's eyes at Pinkie's party?"

"Oh, suck a bean Junebug!" Cheerilee blushed.

Octavia flourished her nose, "Oh, don't be so abashed, Cheerilee. I can not blame a mare for socializing with an objectively attractive stallion."

"Hey! It's not like that!" Cheerilee folded her forelegs, "I wanted to go sit with one of you, but none of you were at the party, were you?"

"Orchestra practice," Octavia immediately excused.

Junebug was inspecting the inside of her forehoof idly, "Game night at the Apples'."

"I wanted to go, but you didn't wake me up when it was time!" Carrot protested.

"I could hear you snoring through your door. You needed the sleep," Cheerilee rebutted.

"Yeah, and there was no cake left in the morning," Carrot mumbled, disappointed.

"The fact that you slept from five to eight the next morning proves my point," Cheerilee said as she poked Carrot on the shoulder.

An hour later and the tea had concluded. Pulling up the hood of her bright yellow raincoat, Cheerilee stepped out of the cafe onto Ponyville's streets. Rain pattered off of the rubber of her coat as she stepped out onto the muddy cobblestones of the street, and she adjusted the hood again to prevent water from dribbling down onto her muzzle and mane.

Carrot Top exited the cafe behind her, as they were both meant to be bound to the same house. However, Cheerilee turned down the wrong streets, towards the bakery instead.

"Hey! Where you going?" Carrot Top shouted over the rain.

"To the bakery! I'm going to get an apple pie to take to Lancer's later!" Cheerilee shouted back over her shoulder.

Carrot Top blinked, before shaking her head and shouting, "Celestia with a beard, Cheerilee! You really are down bad!"

Cheerilee paused, turning around, "If he was any other neighbor, we'd visit him to check up on him!"

"Sure, I'm still right though!" Carrot Top yelled back.

With a huff, the other mare rolled her eyes and continued her journey towards the bakery, "Meet you at home!"

Carrot Top muttered something to herself, before drawing the flaps of her coat closer together and trudging down the path to their house.

The front door of 101 Walnut opened, letting Cheerilee in as she shivered and took her raincoat off. The day had gone from a 30 degree scorcher to a chilly rainstorm in just a few hours. Looking up at the clock, she read 5:00 PM. With a sigh, she stood in the entrance hall, warming up from the house's air.

"Was the apple pie worth getting caught out in that squall?" Carrot Top asked, leaning back on an armchair and reading the weekly paper.

Cheerilee finally took off her raincoat, hanging it up on the coat rack, "Ugh. It's gonna last until sundown, too," under the raincoat had been the apple pie, wrapped in foil.

"Eh, just throw it in the fridge and we'll go to his place tomorrow," Carrot shrugged.

"I guess," Cheerilee walked to the fridge, opening it and stuffing the pie into a spare space between the spare carrot dogs and opened, tinned spaghetti.

Carrot looked up from the newspaper as the fridge door slammed shut, "Sorry if I made it look like I was talking behind your back, Cheers."

She waved a hoof as she made for the stairs, "Eh. I'm over it already."

"Naw, seriously," Carrot pressed, leaning forward until the armchair's mechanism took it out of recliner mode, "I don't wanna make you feel like I'm gonna spy and tell on you."

Cheerilee paused, poking her head around the wall of the stairwell and smiling, "Aw, that's considerate of you. You're fine, though, seriously. Junebug's just a bit of a flank when it comes to gossip."

Carrot Top turned back to her paper as the sound of the bath running came from upstairs. Smiling faintly to herself, she wondered just how many more neighborly visits they'd be making to 102 in the next few months.

The storm lasted until around 8PM at night before tapering off. The sun came the next day, and Cheerilee spent most of the morning sifting through the week's backlog of homework. The next week was learning of variables in mathematics as the introduction to more advanced concepts leading up to trig. She liked maths just as little as her students did, but they were just as much a part of Equestrian curricular materials as everything else.

Sitting at her writing desk, the sun shining through the window of her study, she scratched away at a steadily dwindling stack of papers. A pink-and-olive bookshelf was stacked with education material from every grade she taught, as well as large binders of student information, important documents, and other formal paperwork were filed underneath them. Her own writing desk was piled up with work, both completed and not. A fresh inkwell was filled to the brim, ready for her fountain pen once it ran dry. Outside the window, the greenhouse and wooden structures supporting her hobbyist garden glimmered in the sun.

The door slammed downstairs, causing Cheerilee to look over her shoulder and shout, "Welcome back!"

"Thanks," Carrot Top's half-hearted voice came from down the stairs. Shortly after, her hooves clip-clopped up those stairs, and the shower turned on in the bathroom.

Paper flapped as Cheerilee placed another finished sheet on its stack and refilled her pen. Pausing for a moment, she raised the entire stack and evened it out, before slotting it into a folder to take to class next week. They were all Ponish essays on a famous author of their choice. Half the class chose A.K. Yearling, the author of the Daring Do books, though a bright young foal named Pipsqueak chose Marked Twine. The bravery to choose a harder subject to write on got him ten points just by principle, even if the rest of the essay was a bit underwhelming.

Carrot Top came out of the bathroom, mane wrapped in a towel, and poked her head into the study, "Hey, Cheers. When we gonna visit the neighbor?"

Cheerilee took the next essay from the stack before turning around to look at Carrot Top, "Oh. Whenever you're ready."

"Let's just go now," Carrot Top nodded towards the door, "I'll get my tools."

"Huh? Why?" Cheerilee asked as she scooted back from the desk.

"There's gotta be something that needs fixing there," Carrot Top winked.

Around twenty minutes later, the two mares made it to 102 Walnut. Cheerilee frowned as she saw that, still, the house was in no better state. The grass completely swarmed the yard within the fences, the mail still rotted in the moisture by the mailbox, and the windows were still completely gunked up with filth. Indeed, the door was even still hanging open, just like it was before.

Carrot Top tossed her red toolbox over the gate, before climbing over herself. Cheerilee sighed and climbed over as well before trudging through the jungle of grass to the front door. Climbing up the loose boards of the stairs leading up onto the patio, she brushed broken blades of grass from her mane and tail.

"Hello! Lancer! It's your neighbors!" Cheerilee shouted, holding the basket of apple pie.

She frowned as she saw through the gap in the hanging-open door. The floor was still completely drowning in dust, and the smell of mold and moisture was still thick in the air. She earnestly dreaded the silence that reigned after her shouts, but after a while hoofsteps sounded from inside heading towards the entrance. She plastered a smile on quickly as they neared.

The hinges squealed as the door was pulled open, revealing the dark pegasus stallion on the other side. His nose was red and slightly moist. Speaking with his nose blocked, he greeted, "Oh... hi."

"Celestia. You don't look good," Cheerilee raised a hoof to her muzzle in concern.

"Gee, thanks," Lancer mumbled.

"Wow, uh-" Carrot Top blinked, before shaking her head and offering, "A head cold?"

"I think so," he wiped his nose and swallowed something.

Cheerilee grimaced, "Erm. We... brought you an apple pie," she raised the basket, "And, uh, Carrot Top here was thinking you might need something fixed."

"I'm a graduate for construction," Carrot said, hefting her toolbox indicatively.

"Oh," Lancer blinked, before looking down to his hoof, still on the doorknob, "I guess you could try and see if you can get this door to close?"

"Sure," Carrot nodded. The stallion stepped aside, and they both walked into the cool embrace of the house.

As Cheerilee entered the home, she couldn't help but stand and marvel for a moment. Nothing had really changed since Sunday and standing in the home without a clear view of the outside made her feel like she was in one of those post-apocalyptic comics she used to read when she was young. Her eyes were attracted to the bubbling wall on the far side of the foyer, which was covered in dusty photographs, and she noted a black substance growing where the wall met the ceiling.

Over at the kitchen counter, she noticed the winter rose she'd gifted him still growing, green and by far the only vibrant thing in the house. Several cartons of milk sat, hopefully empty, next to the opened, switched off fridge. There was an open bin bag by the counter, half-filled with various items. Cleaning supplies sat, unpacked and unused, by the empty cartons. The bag of Apple family apples she'd seen were still in the same position as the previous Sunday, the paper bag turning dark with moisture leaking from the apples themselves.

Lancer, noticing her gaze, grimaced and walked swiftly to the counter, planting himself between her and the trash. He hurriedly chucked the rotting food into the garbage, where they belonged. He hadn't been eating or drinking any of them, of course, but he'd just neglected to throw them away. The face he'd seen her pulling only made him feel worse.

Carrot Top, for her part, had her back turned to Cheerilee. She was crouched by the door, looking at why it wasn't able to latch properly. Eventually, she announced the reason, "This hinge is broken, causing the latch to be too low to extend properly," opening the toolbox, she pulled out a screwdriver, "I'll just replace it."

Lancer turned around, the bag filled and the counter clean, ears flat and eyes sullen. Cheerilee's gaze was fully locked on him, and he practically melted under the silent judgement transmitted by it.

It was a few moments before the mare realized how rude she was being and blinked. Averting her gaze, she tried to think of something to comment on. When she still failed to think about anything, she simply lowered her head and tried to not look disgusted as she remained silent.

"So... how was... school?" Lancer asked.

"It was... mostly the usual," Cheerilee said awkwardly, "One of my students got their cutie mark..."

Silence reigned again as Lancer tried to think of something else to say, but instead just defaulted to, "What was it?"

"A tiara," Cheerilee said simply.

"Ah."

Cheerilee scratched the back of her mane and bit her lip. Eventually, she brought up, "Erm... a friend of mine was telling me that she knew the old homeowner."

"Did she?" he asked, frowning in... anxiousness?

"Yeah uh, she told me that she was dead," a beat, "The homeowner was, that is."

"Okay," Lancer said flatly.

"Yeah..." Cheerilee nodded awkwardly, before remembering the basket in her hooves. She held it out towards him, "Oh! Want your pie?"

"You're being too kind," Lancer said, before sniffing and rubbing his nose.

"Oh, nonsense-"

"No, seriously. You're literally being too kind. I don't really deserve it," he informed flatly.

Cheerilee raised an eyebrow, "I'm just trying to be a good neighbor, Mr. Lancer."

The stallion folded his forelegs, leaning on the side of the counter.

Cheerilee gave an exasperated sigh, looking up at the growths on the walls, "You have black mold, Lancer. What you have probably isn't a cold, you should go to the hospital."

The door thumped as it fell to the floor, one of its hinges coming off and clattering alongside it. Carrot Top leaned down and blew into the holes in the wall. With a frown, she noticed cracks where the hinge's screws had damaged the doorframe and grabbed her mending glue.

Lancer, looking back from the door, frowned, "I'll fix it eventually."

"I hope you do," Cheerilee frowned, before looking down into the basket once more, "...I'd really like it if you'd take the pie."

Taking a deep breath, the stallion took the basket, placing it on the counter behind him, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Cheerilee smiled faintly.

After a moment, there was a thunk from the front door. Experimentally, Carrot Top closed the door and it clicked shut. Giving a satisfied smile, she looked over to the two, "All good!"

Looking back to the two of them, Lancer frowned, "Let me pay you back somehow. I got bits."

Carrot Top raised an eyebrow, "We didn't do this expecting compensation, Mr. Lancer."

"No, it's just-" he started.

"Lancer." Cheerilee interjected flatly, "Just because you might think right now you don't deserve kindness doesn't mean it's true."

Midnight Lancer could only stare.

"Whatever you're going through right now doesn't make us look down on you. We only want you to be happy," she smiled, "If you really want to pay us back, then start by..." she looked around, muzzle scrunched. She honestly didn't quite know where one would start at all in this place, but then her eyes caught a view of the grass outside through the kitchen window. Nodding to herself, she finished with, "Mowing that lawn. It'll only take you a day of cutting to make a huge difference."

Lancer looked over his shoulder, before going back to Cheerilee, wordless.

Carrot Top slid the lid down on her toolbox, hefting it onto her back and remarking, "Y'know, Mr. Lancer, you don't talk all that much."

"I think it's time to go," Cheerilee said, taking a step towards the door, "If you ever want to get out of the house, our door's always open, no matter what."

The door clicked shut as the two mares left, finally sealing properly for the first time in two years. Lancer raked a hoof through his mane, before walking over to the house plant sitting by the kitchen window. He took one look at the grass growing nearly up to the windowsill, before he opened the faucet and watered the plant.

Author's Note

lancer is a laofer.