Ask Me To Promise

She strides with purpose. Canterlot City's cool wind flits across her face like a paintbrush, whipping her hair in a frenzy. Full plastic bags rustle on her shoulder.

She grins.

Ceremony stuff in those things. Still hard to believe this was happening.

Five years ago, they graduated highschool. Three years, started dating. Last year, got their Bachelor's.

And proposed.

They have jobs now. Twilight works as a librarian. Soon, she'll start up in uni again for her PhD. She has a flood of recommendation letters and scholarships at her back and she'll use them, although her parents could pay it off regardless.

Sunset's thankful, in either case. It means it's not her responsibility. Working off her own tuition fees is a cunt enough, and she knows unless she hits it big she'll either be grinding it down for life, or Twilight will ask her parents to clear the debt for her.

She doesn't like the idea. It's always been hard for her to accept gifts, but she'll take it if it's offered. Turning it down would just be stupid.

Sunset quit her sushi gig a few months into class. Too much obligation on top of everything else. She got herself dual degrees, psychology and Business management. If she plays her cards right and goes for a Master's, she could open her own therapy place by thirty.

So many plans. So little time. Still so young.

Twilight hit twenty-four in February. Sunset has to wait 'til June. Not that she's complaining, twenty-four is a gross number.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket. She stops, plucks it out, sees the caller and answers with facetime.

"Hey you."

"Heeey~" Twilight walks down a street similar to hers, but with less people, fewer buildings. Trees and greenery populate the background, seven o'clock amber sunlight glittering through the leaves.

Sunset continues her stride. "What's up?"

"I just got off the phone with Rarity. She's offering to make our wedding dresses for free, and she was wondering if you'd rather have pearl or moonstone in the veils."

Pearl and moonstone? Fuck me, I forget how opulent that girl is sometimes."

Twilight laughs. Sunset's heart soars in her chest, and she wishes she was there right now so she could answer the heartstrings' tug with a face full of peppered kisses.

"Sunnybunny, this is Rarity we're talking about. She's the most extra friend we have and we're friends with Pinkie P-"

Twilight never gets to finish the sentence.

The roar comes.

The blur strikes.

The scream echoes.

Sunset freezes. Blood goes cold. "Twilight?" she calls. The phone is dark now, facing the ground. Car speeds off, sharp shallow breathing. Rubber on rock, screeching in the tinny distance.

Dry. Ragged. Gasps that rattle like bones.

"Twilight?" No answer. "Twilight? Twilight, say something!"

People are looking at her now. They don't matter. Sunset calls 911 and heaves her answers to every question. Bah-bum becomes the angry thump of overactive bass in her chest. She imagines her and Twilight's ribs crack under the pressure.

Too many questions. Stop asking what her fucking full name is or her age or her fucking address. Get her a fucking ambulance right the fuck fucking now.

Every second they waste is a second she could be dying. She wants to yell at them but doesn't. Chemicals in her blood force her to action. Answering is the quickest way. Getting angry slows them down.

She's already jogging when the call ends. They can track Twilight's GPS from her phone.

She runs, runs, runs, runs. Her hair becomes flame. She pumps her arms through the air, punching the wind with her fists. People shout and bags fall off behind her but she doesn't stop.

Sunset gets there first. Twilight's closer than she thought, should've recognized the park in the background. She always goes to the park at least once a week.

She doesn't want to see Twilight's body. She can't.

But she does. And she has to.

Crumpled. Not broken, or mangled, twisted, or brutalized, thank Sun. Adrenaline stretches a second into an hour getting to her. Time so thick she can feel it move around in waves.

She drops to her knees, hands on Twilight's shoulders. She says her name again. Her glasses aren't on her face. She can't find them on the grass or sidewalk. Her phone lies a dozen feet away, shattered in the street.

She should run and get it. What if a car runs over and it breaks?

"Twilight." She tightens her grip. Twilight doesn't react. "Twilight!"

She shakes her. She yanks on her clothes and begs and pleads and say something please say something anything I don't care and where are your glasses and why can't I find them and who did this and I'll fucking kill them and oh god your back how didn't I notice why did I have to touch it it shouldn't be bent that way get up please please get up I love you so much I love you I love you you'll be okay I'll be okay we'll be okay and we're going to marry next week and we're going to adopt three adorable girls and we'll be the best moms ever but you have to get up so we can do that-

She feels her lips move. Fast. Words shoot out of them in her voice. It's all underwater.

Everything aches. Her throat closes. Heat and salt pour down her face.

"Twilight," she croaks. "C'mon, baby. You're fine. You have to be."

Twilight doesn't move.

Her chest doesn't rise or fall.

Sunset looks for a heartbeat. She looks for the bah-bum.

It isn't there.

Her scream morphs into the wailing sirens.