Even Kindness needs Kindnessby CrowleyChaptersPart 1Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5EpiloguePart 1“Scabbins! Mister Scabbins! Please get out from there, it’s not safe!” No reply echoed from the deep, dark mud-cave, its opening barely wide enough to let a fully grown pony through. The worried pegasus shifted uncomfortably at the entrance, too fearful for her own well-being to enter. “Mister Scabbins, please! You don’t even know what’s in there!” Still no answer from the cave. The poor rat she was calling out for had a nasty brush-in with an eagle moments ago, and was badly hurt by the eagle‘s attempt at catching and eating it. Sadly, when a rat gets injured to the extent of this ‘Mister Scabbins’, they instinctively find somewhere to rest. Somewhere to die. And this mud-cave was this particular rat’s choice. The pegasus felt a slight tug on her pink tail - a tug caused by a rather inpatient looking white bunny, who then hungrily pointed towards his open mouth in a ‘feed me‘ gesture once he had the pony‘s attention. “Oh, not now, Angel bunny, not when one of your friends could be hurt!” The bunny’s response to that was a sarcastic scoff as if to humour the thought of being friends with a rat, followed by the folded-arms-and-angry-scowl approach to not being fed when he demanded. “I- um- I… suppose I’d better go in there and bring him back out. He needs medical attention! Please wait here for me, Angel.” The cantankerous bunny then spent the next three minutes watching the world’s most pitiful pegasus half-crawl, half-tiptoe into the mud-cave’s entrance, squeaking, hesitating and shivering every few steps. Eventually he got bored with the display, and decided it would be easier on them both to just find some other shmuck to get the rat out. And off he ran to find a volunteer. “D- d- don’t worry, Scabbins! Ev- everything will be okay!” squeaked the pony’s voice as it echoed deeper and deeper into the darkness. And that’s what brings us to the small, fluffy, white mime that’s hopping up and down in front a simple, wandering earth pony. An earth pony that happens to be you. “Lemme guess, um… a starfish? No, no, a cartwheel? You need to repair a cartwheel or something?” The bunny shakes his head impatiently when you guess wrongly yet again, and decides to act out a semi-crawl, semi-tiptoe motion, hoping you‘d understand that instead. “Hold on, I get it! You want to be a cat! Am I right? No? C‘mon, give me a clue here!” Giving up on the charades, your big-eared bunny companion simply motions you to follow, and hops off heading towards a small hill. Well, your schedule’s free for today anyway, what’s the worst that could happen? ******* You stand facing a small mud cave, so small you’d probably have to crouch on all four of your legs to fit in it. You sure hope the bunny’s joking when it stands outside the cave’s entrance, pointing at its tiny paw towards it, then to you, then back again. “You… actually want me to go in there? You’re not serious, right?” The fluff-ball replies by tapping its large foot impatiently, paws on his hips, waiting for you to do as he darn well says. “Why can’t you go in there? You’re a rabbit; you live in a rabbit hole!” The bunny froze mid-foot-tap, and shifted uncomfortably. It glances back towards the mud cave, and back at you, shaking its head. “Let me guess; you live in a hutch, don’t you?” the pointy-eared lagomorph nods slightly, “And I’m also guessing you’re afraid of holes?” you smirk, teasing him. “Pbbbbbbt!” “Hey, sticking your tongue out’s just plain rude, little guy. Do you want me to help or not?” A faint squeal echoing from the cave changed the subject for both of you. Sensing the alarm in the squeak’s origin, the bunny quickly tapped your hoof to get your attention and then pointed back at the entrance. “Was that your friend?” It dawned on you that the squeak was probably another rabbit, most likely stuck in the cave somewhere. And the animal-helper in you simply can’t leave a small, fluffy creature to such a sad ending. You sigh in weariness, “Fine, I’ll go in there, but you oughta pay me more than carrots for this.” Crouching down, you squeeze through the mud cave’s small entrance, taking care not to get too much dirt on your mane, tail or coat. The faint, claustrophobic thoughts creeping into your head would have to be put on a leash for now. Because you’re a brave pony. It’s what you tell yourself, anyway. ******* You knew you’d have trouble seeing things in a cave so dark. Lucky, the sun outside is bright enough to pour through the cave’s opening behind you, putting you somewhat at ease as you clamber deeper and deeper, keeping an ear out for the rabbit‘s friend. A soft sniffling begins to resonate through the cave. Squinting your eyes through the darkness, you make out a brightly coloured creature at a dead end; a strangely large, brightly coloured creature with its back to you. One thing’s for certain, it’s either a fully grown pony or one heck of a large bunny. You lower your back, scraping your stomach against the dirt on the ground, to crawl under some rocks ever-so-slightly poking out from the top of the cave in an attempt to get closer. You feel your pulse increase slightly when you squeeze under them - the cave is confining enough already. Whoever and whatever this creature is, it seems to be cradling something small, sobbing like a child with a broken, cherished belonging. You strain your ears to listen; “sniff… Sc-Scabbins… I-I’m s-so sorry…” the trembling voice alone confirms your suspicions; it’s a pony, a female pony at that. Although it’s far too dark to see her in detail, you notice her shivering over whatever tiny mammal she’s cradling. Looks like the little thing might be sleeping. Or worse. You finally get close enough to the figures to speak without having to raise your voice; it wouldn’t be safe to shout in a cave, much less one made of soil and dirt. You try to get the pony’s attention talking as softly as possible. “Um, hello-?” “YAAH!” the pony leaps almost out of her skin from shock, having paid no heed to your presence until now, bashing her head against the top of the mud-cave with regrettable force. Her yelp of surprise echoes throughout the cave twice more, before stopping in a deadly silence. You both exchange glances with each other for a brief moment before you become hit with a new reason to panic - a faint rumbling sound, getting louder and louder, and the cave around you vibrating to an uncomfortable degree. The cave is crumbling apart. Collapsing. Falling in on itself. At this point, talking softly is ultimately pointless. “Run!” you shout, the mounting fear gripping you like a vice, “We have to get out of here!” Her eyes wide in alarm, she places whatever motionless creature she was holding on the ground and begins to scramble towards you. Towards the cave’s entrance and only exit. You uncomfortably shift yourself, turning around to crawl the way you came, ignoring the cave’s rumble, now more like a roar than ever, just in time to witness the worst possible sight imaginable. The rocks from the top of the cave drop, along with far too much dirt, sealing off the light of the entrance, sealing you both off in complete darkness. Part 2The rumbling and shaking finally subsides. Every nerve throughout your body stings with the sudden fear of being left in the blackness that leaves you blinded, stuck and hopeless. Unable to see your own hoof in front of your face. Unable to stand up in the dirt-ridden coffin. Unable to breathe or even think. Struggling back the way you came, you desperately push yourself up against the rocks while the sense of claustrophobia sinks deeper and deeper into your gut. They don’t budge in the slightest. Kicking the rocks with your hind legs doesn’t help either. You’re trapped. Trapped and buried alive. When kicking against the rocks for the tenth time doesn’t work, you resort to lying on your back, pushing against the top of the cave with your hooves in a dire, useless attempt to make more room. Maybe you’re going mad when you feel the walls closing in on you, smothering you in the darkness as the perceived lack of air turns you light-headed. It’s only now you notice the terrified, demented screams that have been filling the cave this whole time. And a moment later you recognize them as your own. You have given up. You can't leave now. You’re trapped in here forever! You’re going to die down here! “You’re going to be okay. Everything’s going to be alright.” The dreadful words inside your head begin to soften, turning into a gentle, reassuring voice that slows your beating heart is only by a fraction. You suddenly realise that these calm, welcome words aren’t in your head after all, but from the pony girl who had also been a victim of the collapse. Perhaps fear had made you forget until now. “You can do this, you can help us.” the tender tone continued, “You can help us both. Please, just be brave. For the both of us. Please.” You take a few deep breaths, steadying yourself enough to give a coherent reply in short, high-pitched bursts; “Brave? How would that help? How is anything gonna help us now?! Are you even afraid?” “Afraid?” she whispers, “To be honest… I’m terrified.” Those quiet words are enough to reduce your nerves from a flustered wreck to a mildly-panicked hum of guilt; how the heck could you be so self-absorbed? The frail female pony - who was sobbing to herself no more than a minute or two ago - was more in control of her fears than you! And until now, you’d have quite comfortably called yourself a fully-grown stallion… “But,” she continues, “If we keep calm, maybe we could find a way out. We just need to keep ourselves under control. Please?” “You… you’re right.” There’s really no way you can argue with that - if not for her sound reasoning, at least for her soft, honeyed voice, “I’m sorry. I guess I just lost it.” While the gnawing claustrophobic fear still bites into your mind, you have to admit, whoever this little pony is, her presence seems to dispel the grim hopelessness of your situation. You can even breathe easier, unless that’s just a trick of the mind. “When the rocks fell, they blocked off the way we came in,” you explain to her, “I can’t budge them either. Do you know any other way out?” Unknown to you, she shakes her head, then, realizing how uninformative that action is in total darkness, she speaks; “There isn’t one. I only crawled in here to fetch Mister Scabbins-” “Who?” you interrupt, “You mean there’s another pony in here?” “Um, no, he’s-” “Wait, don’t tell me, a friend of that white bunny?” “Y-you’ve met Angel? Yes, Scabbins is a friend of his. Oh…” her voice lowered to a heartbreaking realisation, “At least, he was a friend.” You decide it’s best to keep talking to her, as a way to keep both of your minds off the whole ‘stuck and buried alive in a cave’ thing. “Are you saying this Scabbins guy is dead now? Was he the small dead thing you were holding?” Her reply consists of a dismayed squeak and some despondent sniffles. You then decide it’s best to change the subject, before you make her cry. “So, we’re stuck and buried alive in a cave, huh?” No, wait, any other subject than that, idiot! Assessing the situation, you confirm that there is no way to push or shift the heaving rocks firmly lodged into place. Feeling with your hooves, the dirt directly above the rocks felt soft, no doubt loosened during the collapse. Perhaps you could dig out, digging directly upwards, using just your bare hooves? “A-are you sure that wouldn’t cause another cave-in?” the timid mare asks when you relay your plan to her. “I have no idea.” you admit, “but we don’t have a lot of choice here, uh…” Huh. It took you until now to realise you didn’t even know her name yet. Best save that question for a less hazardous time and place, though. ******* Thump. Thump. Thump. The sound of you striking your hoof against the cave’s interior becomes familiar to you both as the minutes drag on. You’ve been making good progress considering the lack of tools, too, since you can almost stand up on all fours in the area you‘re digging. You choose to remain on your back, facing upwards, however; a good position for breaking up the earth once you ignore the dirt falling into your face and mane. Fighting against light-headedness, you can’t tell whether you’re tired from digging, or weak from the lack of air. After a while, your shy, reluctant companion says something; “Um, excuse me mister.” “Is everything alright back there? How are you h- Aack!” You quickly learn it’s not clever to dig and talk at the same time; the falling dirt doesn’t taste nice. “How are you holding up?” you croak, finishing your sentence. “N-not that it’s any of my business of anything,” she whispers, “but you might want to dig more like a mole. It might be faster that way.” “Like a mole?” you ponder, “Are you sure that would work?” “I’m sure. I mean, not sure. I mean…” the mare’s voice delicately flusters, “you can’t be sure unless you try.” Taking what she said to heart, you throw your fore-hooves with all of your strength into the dirt above you. You then push outwards, prying the dirt apart, feeling it crumble and fall over your face. Your eyes are tightly shut, preventing any loam from blinding you - not that having your eyes open would help you in this darkness. Digging in a second time, you can’t help but notice a difference in your progress; that one burrowing action just brushed aside two, three inches of soil, instead of just a few millimetres like most of your past attempts. Unbelievable. “It’s… it’s working.” you call back to her, “That worked!” For the first time, you feel you are genuinely going to be alright. A full minute of frantic mole-like digging goes by and you find yourself having to stand on your hind legs to keep tunnelling upwards. Another minute and you can feel small, wispy roots scratching at your hooves. Grass roots. Soft, green grass, trees, sunlight, air… it’s all right above you. One powerful thump from your exhausted hooves and a thin beam of light pierces the blackness. A second thump and the hole is almost enough to squeeze through. A third and final thump, and you burst through the ground, out of your tomb, and to freedom and fresh air. Part 3Your eyes sting, not from the dirt that crusts around them, but from the bright, brilliant glare of the sun you thought you’d never see again. The faintest breeze, whipping through the greenest grass, causes your mud-stained fur coat-hairs to stand on end. You gratefully breathe in the chilly air, and lift yourself out of the hole you had dug. Immediately afterwards, you turn back to the opening in the ground, and lower your fore-hooves into it. A moment later, two bright yellow hooves rise out from the darkness, wrapping themselves gingerly around your own. Slowly, you pull yourself backwards, dragging your mare companion out of the hole. First, her fore-hooves, then her head, complete with a wispy, candyfloss coloured mane. And then, to your surprise, her wings; you didn’t expect a pegasus of all pony-kind to be in a cave. You finally pull her out completely, her mane-matching tail being the last feature to see the light of day. This is the first time you had properly seen her in full daylight, aside from the occasional passing-by in Ponyville, where she was always with somepony or another. Her formerly sleek coat of fur is dishevelled, the matching feathers of her wings ruffled. Dark, dirty clumps of mud speckle her hair and tail. Her deep, blue eyes, sunken and reddened from crying, glance you up and down as she sees you for the first time as well. Not that you looked any better off than her. “Th-thank you for helping me back there,” she stutters, as if seemingly forgetting who startled her, thus causing the collapse, in the first place, “you… um… you have a worm in your mane, by the way.” With a quick flick of your hoof to brush away said worm, you turn the subject to something much more important in your mind; “You should make your way home, you must be exhausted after all that,” You know you are, at the very least. “Draw yourself a nice relaxing bath or something.” You look down at your own dirt-encrusted hooves, “Yeah, a hot bath. That’s the ticket.” “A-hem!” You both turn your heads toward the source of the throat-clearing; a white bunny impatiently taps its foot, and points to his open mouth in a “feed me” gesture. Remembering the fluffy git who sent you into those caves in the first place, you reply with a gesture of your own to him. Unfortunately, due to the lack of fingers on your hooves, the said explicit gesture was lost upon both the bunny and his shy owner forever. “Excuse me, mister… um…” the timid pegasus spoke in a soft undertone, “but I can’t remember your name.” “Never gave it.” you reply with a pinch of complacency. After you tell her, you ask for the pleasure of knowing hers; you could even see the faintest blush past all the dried mud on her face. “Fluttershy.” she timidly replies. “Nice to meet you, Fluttershy.” That name rolls off your tongue so well. “I’m heading back to Ponyville, if you want I can walk you home.” you try to give your most comforting, laid-back smirk, but looking into her deep, watery eyes you can’t help but feel a nervous twitch. Perhaps she picked up on that. “Oh, you don’t have to do that if you don‘t want to…” she tilts her head somewhere into the distance, “My house is just a short walk away. I only live on the outskirts of town, you see. Ah!” she gives you a slight shock as something springs into her mind. “You say you live in Ponyville?” After a brief pause, wondering where she’s going with this, you nod. “I simply can’t let you walk all the way back there covered in dirt! Come to my house instead, I’ll make you a nice hot bubble-bath! It’s the least I can do to thank you myself!” “Thank me for wha-?” you cut yourself off when it sinks in - the cute mare is offering to take you around her own house and give you a free bath. Of course, she’s thanking you for digging her out of the collapse earlier, but maybe it wouldn’t be wise to remind her that you startled her into causing it. The thought of a good soak humming in your mind, you agree. At the very least, it would help you take your mind off scheming bunnies and near-burials. ******* Mice, rats, birds, chipmunks, squirrels, ferrets and… ugh, bunnies… hop, flap and scuttle around the various nooks and crannies of Fluttershy’s swarm-welcoming house. At first, they scampered off at your presence, but after an introduction by the helpful house owner, they slowly begin to warm up to you. “So many small fluffy things,” you gently hold your hoof out, which is soon cautiously sniffed at, then nuzzled, by a nearby ferret, “Do you take care of them all, Fluttershy?” She replies with a humble nod, “Oh yes, I could never turn down the chance to help Equestria’s creatures, great and small! Luckily, the big ones rarely need help, or else I‘d need a bigger house!” she adds with a giggle. You spend the next few minutes asking other questions about her, and occasionally answering her own. As stressful as taking care of so many fragile little things may appear, she seems to take it all in stride, living with little reward but for the satisfaction of helping them. How a timid pony such as her could take on a passion so exhaustive, and stick to it through thick and thin purely out of commitment to care, you found awe-inspiring. “You know, Fluttershy,” (any reason to say her name again,) “you can have your bath before mine, since it‘s your house. I’ll look after these critters in the meantime.” You opt against suggesting to share the bathing experience with her, as much as you want to - last time you tried something like that, it ended in a slap and a warning from the Spa staff. At first she’s slightly off-put by your gentlecoltly offer, but you insist she goes first, pointing out how you can’t stand to see a pretty face hidden behind so much mud. You can’t tell whether it was an upbeat squeak or a high-pitched giggle, but she doesn’t argue with you, tenderly trotting into her bathroom. A few minutes pass, as you enjoy watching the occasional hummingbird flutter from one of the many birdhouses to another, or a couple of squirrels racing across the wooden floorboards playfully. Eventually, a small, light-brown rat pokes its head out of a nearby mouse hole, and scuttles over to you, looking up quizzically with its tiny eyes. You might call yourself crazy, but it looks like it’s trying to ask you something. Before you can even try to understand what it’s asking, the bathroom door opens, a fresh, clean pegasus sauntering out. Her hair runs in slightly damp, pink strands down her head, her wings widely spread to help dry faster. Her lips are cutely raised into a tiny smile when she looks at you, but that quickly disappears when she sees the small rat by your side. “Mrs Scabbins,” she breathes, her slightly upbeat demeanour replaced by one of gloom when she realises what she has to do. “Um, you can have your bath now,” she tells you quickly, “I’ll just… need a moment with the animals.” ******* Who would’ve thought a wooden tub would be so relaxing? You feel all the stress from the cave-in fiasco melt away with the dirt you finally scrub off. Once you feel clean enough, you sigh, contently, deciding it probably wouldn’t hurt to lie in the bath’s warm waters a while longer, half-tempted to fall asleep right there. Hold on a minute… You hear the smallest murmurs coming from the other side of the wall. It’s certainly Fluttershy’s voice, you can tell, but it’s so quiet it’s nearly unintelligible to you. Creeping out of the tub, you hastily dry yourself with the nearest (and incredibly fluffy) towel, before pressing you ear up against the wooden door. Still not loud enough. Breath held, you turn the knob as quietly as possible, pushing the door open by the tiniest crack. “…didn’t wake up. I’m so sorry.” Peeking through the gap, you see Fluttershy kneeling on all fours, speaking tenderly to the rat. It takes you a moment to realise she’s being the bearer of bad news. That dead creature she was cradling back in the cave - the brown rat she was speaking to now must have been its significant other. Another tiny rodent, so small it couldn’t have been more than a week or so old, scampers up to its mother. Poor Fluttershy could only watch pitifully as the two creatures return to their mouse hole in the corner of the room, knowing their home and family would forever be one rat short. Slow seconds tick by while the poor girl stays frozen in her kneeling position, seemingly deep in thought. Or maybe she’s shocked at what she just had to do. Another lingering moment painfully passes, and you notice her gradually close in on herself; her once-light wings hang down to the ground, her legs bending from kneeling to a near foetal position. The ears on her head pitifully droop, her face burying itself deep into her forelegs. You creak the bathroom door fully open, finally stepping out to let her know you‘re there. You carefully amble to her side just in time to see her break down into a shivering wreck. Part 4“Fluttershy!” you kneel down beside her, the concern with her being in such emotional pain gnawing your stomach, “What happened!?” You know exactly what happened. Her constant obligation to care for the animals, her sense of duty towards the health and well-being of every creature, the traumatic experience back in the mud cave, the guilt of not being able to save even the smallest rat… all of those responsibilities, stresses and trials. Bit by bit, they were weighing down upon her. And breaking the tragic news of failing to save the rat’s life-partner? That was the straw that broke her, on top of all the others. And now they’re tearing her apart from the inside. In an attempt to comfort her in any way possible, you gently nudge her with your snout, trying to draw her out of the ball she had curled herself into. Instead, she curls up tighter, resisting your reassurance. “Please, I want to help you.” you whisper as calmly as you can into her ear. The tiniest squeal and hopeless sobbing is her only response. “I don’t like seeing you like this, Fluttershy.” “Th- then don’t l- look.” Her voice muffles, her face remains buried in her forelegs. Maybe she thinks if she can’t see you, you can’t see her. Slowly, gently, your fore-hooves scoop her from the ground slightly. This time, she doesn’t struggle back, letting you raise her face towards your own. Tears still streaming from her eyes, she does her best to keep a straight face while keeping eye contact. Even in this sorry state, you still think she’s one of the most beautiful ponies you’ve ever come across. And deep down, you decide that you’ll do everything it takes to make her feel better. Your forelegs wrap around her, embracing her in a snug, firm hug. At first she tenses at the sudden affection, but steadily, she hugs back, nuzzling your shoulder. Her tears continue to flow, dampening your shoulder. You don’t mind. “It’s j- just too hard, y- you know?” she stutters, “S- so many little l- lives all depend on me…” You stroke her head soothingly, letting her know you’re listening. It’s no use to her keeping her anxiety bottled up, you reason, and letting it all out might be good for her. You hope it’s good for her, at least. There is however, one thing she mentions that you absolutely insist isn’t true. “And… and if I couldn’t even care for one of them, how can I take care of a whole houseful? I feel so useless-” “You’re not useless, Fluttershy,” you cut her off assertively, “You’re far from useless, you’re one of the most helpful ponies I know. And I‘ve only just met you today.” “You’re just saying that.” she sniffles vacantly. “I’m telling the truth. I can prove you‘re not useless.” “How?” is all she manages to say. Her throat is no doubt sore from her crying, and thus her words become quieter, fewer and far between. You think for a brief moment, trying hard not to upset her as you pick your words. “Well… remember back in the mud-cave?” You really aren’t keen on the idea of reminding her, but she needs an example for how useful she is. And she was incredibly useful back there. “Remember when I lost it, and started screaming the place down? I was freaking out down there, and you calmed me down. You helped me when I thought everything was lost, Fluttershy.” Your head rests against hers as you hug her ever-so-slightly tighter. “Just like how I want to help you now.” “But I- I didn’t help you,” she mumbles with a strain in her voice, “You did all the digging. I just lay there being a waste of space.” “Actually, you didn’t,” you counter. If she thought for half a second she was a waste of space, you would shoot that ridiculous idea out of the sky. “You’re the one who told me to dig like a mole, remember? You’re the one who helped me dig fast enough to escape, if it wasn’t for your advice, Fluttershy, we’d still be down there, digging. Or worse.” You loosen your hug just enough to bring yourself face-to-face with her. The tears still run down her beautiful face. But thankfully, she’s smiling. Just faintly. “You saved both my mind, and my life,” you tell her, trying not to get lost in her eyes, “You risked life and limb not just for other ponies like me, but for your animal friends,” You gesture outwards towards the rest of the room, almost being startled at what you just noticed - many, many tiny, little eyes, from almost every kind of small beast, winged or otherwise, had gathered around you and Fluttershy, each looking worried, almost apologetic, towards the pegasus. Each one in total silence, wondering why their strong, kind motherly figure was so upset. Fluttershy herself lifts her head slightly, scanning the room, gently smiling through her tears at every single one of them. You hazard a guess that she could name them all on the spot too. “Don’t you see? You’re not useless! You never were useless, and to me - and to them - you never will be.” You slowly draw her back into your hug, her face burying itself back into your shoulder. You nuzzle up to her head, and whisper; “You’re the kindest, most caring pony I’ve ever met. And nothing will change that.” Her reply is almost inaudible, but it causes your heart to skip regardless; “Thank you.” You both lie there for the longest time; your loving embrace uninterrupted, sharing the rise and fall of each other’s chests, the gentle rhythm of your heartbeats. One by one, the small animals that had gathered around begin to take their leave. Some birds decide to return back to their small wooden bird houses, others flutter out of the open window along with several other animals. The smaller rodents return to their respective mouse-holes and cracks in the wall. Soon it’s just you, her, and the sunset flickering it’s last over the horizon. Finally, you whisper in her ear, “Fluttershy? How are you feeling?” There’s no response from her. Only her slow, gentle breathing on your shoulder. Delicately, you release your fore-hooves from around her and gaze at her beautiful face. Her closed eyes were calm, her mind peacefully drifting far away from her problems. She had fallen fast asleep in your arms. You carefully scoop her up, letting her lie on your back. It’s astonishing, how she feels as light as her own feathers. Silently, you carry her up the wooden staircase, finding her bedroom with no trouble. You trot to her bedside, and gently lay her down, tucking her in under the covers. She stirs, and for a brief moment you fear you may have disturbed her peace. Instead, she rolls over in her sleep, grabbing her nearest pillow and nuzzling against it. Perhaps she thought it was still you. At least she was still smiling, her dreams probably filled with all the wonderful fluffy creatures she can imagine. She definitely needs the rest, and now that you think of it, so do you. Surely Fluttershy wouldn’t mind if you stayed the night, albeit in different rooms. Once you had made your way down the stairs, you lie on the nearby green couch in the main room, close your eyes, and let your mind wander. The last thing you see in your mind’s eye is the kindest pony in Equestria. Part 5The warm mid-morning sunlight pours through an open window. The sound of birds singing welcomes you back into the waking world, whether you asked of it or not. You toss and turn, yawning, the scent of vegetable soup doing a better job for your senses than the birds. You guess your room-mate must be making himself breakfast. And then you remember. You finally lift your eyelids, taking in Fluttershy’s main room. A lot of the animals seem to have left, going about their daily business in the outside world, a few of them scuttle back and forth without a care. But what got your attention the most was the pegasus who had just placed two steaming bowls of soup on the nearby table, next to some slices of soft bread. “Good morning, sleepyhead!” she chirps as melodically as the birds, “Did you get a good night’s sleep?” “Yeah, I feel great,” you lift yourself up off the couch, and help yourself to your soup bowl and a couple bread slices, “What about you? Feeling better?” She blushes, and stares into her own soup. “I’m feeling much better now, thank you, but…” she hesitates. “But what?” you ask, soaking up some of the soup with your bread, “You can tell me.” “It’s just that… I feel so embarrassed,” she concludes, “I’m sorry I broke down in front of you, I really didn’t see it coming.” “Oh, don’t feel that way, Fluttershy,” you console her, “Sometimes things just pile on top of you in ways you don’t expect. It’s best not to keep these feelings bottled up, you know.” She returns a smile, “I know. And um, thank you for helping me get through that. I’m glad I had somepony’s shoulder close by.” “Always happy to help! Anytime you need a spare hoof with the anything, I’d be more than willing to lend you mine!” “I’d like that,” she grins, “if… if you’re not busy or anything.” “Alright, whenever I have some free time then!” you agree, “I’m not doing much these days anyway, it’s mostly my room-mate who-” something clicks in your head, “Oh heck, I’ve not been home since yesterday! He’s probably put a search party together by now!” Fluttershy giggles at your sudden, inelegant epiphany, “You should really get back to let him know you’re alright.” You nod, mopping up the remaining soup with the last of your bread, “I’ll be back around later,” you tell her, “I’ll help you with feeding the critters.” After saying quick goodbyes, Fluttershy shows you the door, letting you trot outside into the morning sunlight. You notice her waver for a moment before she shuts the door. She’s probably just organising her thoughts from yesterday. Maybe you could swing by again later, just in case her troubles are still to unruly… The same goes for your troubles too. Why’d you let her pour her feelings out and not do the same thing in return? Would she appreciate it? What if she doesn’t? But if she does… Ah, screw it! You turn around on the spot and head back to Fluttershy’s home. It’s worth a shot. Better to know today, rather than spend a lifetime wondering "what if". Knock-knock-knock. Two sea-foam blue eyes peek out from a crack in her open door. “Oh, hello again. You must live very close by if you managed to get back this quickly!” “It’s not that, Fluttershy. I just want to ask you something before I go.” The pegasus pushes the door all the way open, her head cutely tilted to the side. “What is it?” You open your mouth to tell her, but find it hard to find the right words. Taking a deep breath, you try again; “I want to tell you,” you begin, choosing your words carefully and slowly, “That I was being honest when I said you were the kindest, most caring pony I’ve ever met. And I… uh…” You forget the exact words you were planning to say - those deep, spellbinding eyes captivate you with their reflection of the morning light. “Argh, this sounded far easier in my head. The thing is, Fluttershy, I think you’re really nice.” Nice? Was that the best word you could honestly think of? Seriously? “And, er, I want you to be nice together. No, wait, I mean us. I want us to be nice together.” Wait, that didn’t make a lick of sense. Your hooves paw at the ground as you try to set your mind back on track. “What I’m trying to say is… that I like you. And I… don’t want to not ask you out.” You have no idea why you just used double negatives, “Because if I didn’t ask you out, I’d never find out if you’d go on a… a date with me. So I wanna do the opposite of not asking you out-” You’re cut off in the middle of your awkwardly brain-teasing proposal by a soft snout pressing up against your cheeks. The brief touch of Fluttershy’s warm lips on the side of your face sends you into a dizzy blush so vivid you would probably glow in the dark. “It’s a date!” she chuckles with a cheerful pinch of enthusiasm, her endearing yellow face now as red as yours. “Come back this evening, I’ll be getting ready in the meantime!“ You nod. Her door closes. You stand perfectly still, waiting your mind to process what just happened. Once it finally sinks in, you trot off, wearing the biggest, daftest smile ever. Yesterday, you were just planning to go for a walk. Today, you’re planning to go on a date with the prettiest, kindest, most beautiful pony in Equestria. “Fluttershy.” That name rolls off your tongue so well. Epilogue What the heck? The door’s locked! You stand outside the door of your own house, expecting your room-mate to be in. He’s usually home by lunch, since he only does the early morning shift at the post office, and he’s not said a word to you about doing overtime… no matter, you have a spare key. Several hours later, you’re finally ready for your date; properly washed and cleaned (making extra sure to get out any dirt you may have missed last time) and ready to spend the evening with your perfect, peaceful pegasus. And just when you were about to leave, who should walk in other than a beaten, yet oddly upbeat, male unicorn. “About time you got back,” you say, “I was just about to leave on a date!” “Sorry about that, I just got back from a date myself.” he replies. “Really?” you found it improbable, yet cool, how you both somehow managed to find a special somepony on the same day, “Tell me all about it later, once I get back, I don’t wanna be late for this.” It is at this point you both notice something unusual about the other. Your unicorn room-mate goes first; “How did you suddenly meet a girl pony anyway?” “Don’t ask. Where did you get the black eye from?” “Don’t ask.”
Part 1“Scabbins! Mister Scabbins! Please get out from there, it’s not safe!” No reply echoed from the deep, dark mud-cave, its opening barely wide enough to let a fully grown pony through. The worried pegasus shifted uncomfortably at the entrance, too fearful for her own well-being to enter. “Mister Scabbins, please! You don’t even know what’s in there!” Still no answer from the cave. The poor rat she was calling out for had a nasty brush-in with an eagle moments ago, and was badly hurt by the eagle‘s attempt at catching and eating it. Sadly, when a rat gets injured to the extent of this ‘Mister Scabbins’, they instinctively find somewhere to rest. Somewhere to die. And this mud-cave was this particular rat’s choice. The pegasus felt a slight tug on her pink tail - a tug caused by a rather inpatient looking white bunny, who then hungrily pointed towards his open mouth in a ‘feed me‘ gesture once he had the pony‘s attention. “Oh, not now, Angel bunny, not when one of your friends could be hurt!” The bunny’s response to that was a sarcastic scoff as if to humour the thought of being friends with a rat, followed by the folded-arms-and-angry-scowl approach to not being fed when he demanded. “I- um- I… suppose I’d better go in there and bring him back out. He needs medical attention! Please wait here for me, Angel.” The cantankerous bunny then spent the next three minutes watching the world’s most pitiful pegasus half-crawl, half-tiptoe into the mud-cave’s entrance, squeaking, hesitating and shivering every few steps. Eventually he got bored with the display, and decided it would be easier on them both to just find some other shmuck to get the rat out. And off he ran to find a volunteer. “D- d- don’t worry, Scabbins! Ev- everything will be okay!” squeaked the pony’s voice as it echoed deeper and deeper into the darkness. And that’s what brings us to the small, fluffy, white mime that’s hopping up and down in front a simple, wandering earth pony. An earth pony that happens to be you. “Lemme guess, um… a starfish? No, no, a cartwheel? You need to repair a cartwheel or something?” The bunny shakes his head impatiently when you guess wrongly yet again, and decides to act out a semi-crawl, semi-tiptoe motion, hoping you‘d understand that instead. “Hold on, I get it! You want to be a cat! Am I right? No? C‘mon, give me a clue here!” Giving up on the charades, your big-eared bunny companion simply motions you to follow, and hops off heading towards a small hill. Well, your schedule’s free for today anyway, what’s the worst that could happen? ******* You stand facing a small mud cave, so small you’d probably have to crouch on all four of your legs to fit in it. You sure hope the bunny’s joking when it stands outside the cave’s entrance, pointing at its tiny paw towards it, then to you, then back again. “You… actually want me to go in there? You’re not serious, right?” The fluff-ball replies by tapping its large foot impatiently, paws on his hips, waiting for you to do as he darn well says. “Why can’t you go in there? You’re a rabbit; you live in a rabbit hole!” The bunny froze mid-foot-tap, and shifted uncomfortably. It glances back towards the mud cave, and back at you, shaking its head. “Let me guess; you live in a hutch, don’t you?” the pointy-eared lagomorph nods slightly, “And I’m also guessing you’re afraid of holes?” you smirk, teasing him. “Pbbbbbbt!” “Hey, sticking your tongue out’s just plain rude, little guy. Do you want me to help or not?” A faint squeal echoing from the cave changed the subject for both of you. Sensing the alarm in the squeak’s origin, the bunny quickly tapped your hoof to get your attention and then pointed back at the entrance. “Was that your friend?” It dawned on you that the squeak was probably another rabbit, most likely stuck in the cave somewhere. And the animal-helper in you simply can’t leave a small, fluffy creature to such a sad ending. You sigh in weariness, “Fine, I’ll go in there, but you oughta pay me more than carrots for this.” Crouching down, you squeeze through the mud cave’s small entrance, taking care not to get too much dirt on your mane, tail or coat. The faint, claustrophobic thoughts creeping into your head would have to be put on a leash for now. Because you’re a brave pony. It’s what you tell yourself, anyway. ******* You knew you’d have trouble seeing things in a cave so dark. Lucky, the sun outside is bright enough to pour through the cave’s opening behind you, putting you somewhat at ease as you clamber deeper and deeper, keeping an ear out for the rabbit‘s friend. A soft sniffling begins to resonate through the cave. Squinting your eyes through the darkness, you make out a brightly coloured creature at a dead end; a strangely large, brightly coloured creature with its back to you. One thing’s for certain, it’s either a fully grown pony or one heck of a large bunny. You lower your back, scraping your stomach against the dirt on the ground, to crawl under some rocks ever-so-slightly poking out from the top of the cave in an attempt to get closer. You feel your pulse increase slightly when you squeeze under them - the cave is confining enough already. Whoever and whatever this creature is, it seems to be cradling something small, sobbing like a child with a broken, cherished belonging. You strain your ears to listen; “sniff… Sc-Scabbins… I-I’m s-so sorry…” the trembling voice alone confirms your suspicions; it’s a pony, a female pony at that. Although it’s far too dark to see her in detail, you notice her shivering over whatever tiny mammal she’s cradling. Looks like the little thing might be sleeping. Or worse. You finally get close enough to the figures to speak without having to raise your voice; it wouldn’t be safe to shout in a cave, much less one made of soil and dirt. You try to get the pony’s attention talking as softly as possible. “Um, hello-?” “YAAH!” the pony leaps almost out of her skin from shock, having paid no heed to your presence until now, bashing her head against the top of the mud-cave with regrettable force. Her yelp of surprise echoes throughout the cave twice more, before stopping in a deadly silence. You both exchange glances with each other for a brief moment before you become hit with a new reason to panic - a faint rumbling sound, getting louder and louder, and the cave around you vibrating to an uncomfortable degree. The cave is crumbling apart. Collapsing. Falling in on itself. At this point, talking softly is ultimately pointless. “Run!” you shout, the mounting fear gripping you like a vice, “We have to get out of here!” Her eyes wide in alarm, she places whatever motionless creature she was holding on the ground and begins to scramble towards you. Towards the cave’s entrance and only exit. You uncomfortably shift yourself, turning around to crawl the way you came, ignoring the cave’s rumble, now more like a roar than ever, just in time to witness the worst possible sight imaginable. The rocks from the top of the cave drop, along with far too much dirt, sealing off the light of the entrance, sealing you both off in complete darkness.
Part 2The rumbling and shaking finally subsides. Every nerve throughout your body stings with the sudden fear of being left in the blackness that leaves you blinded, stuck and hopeless. Unable to see your own hoof in front of your face. Unable to stand up in the dirt-ridden coffin. Unable to breathe or even think. Struggling back the way you came, you desperately push yourself up against the rocks while the sense of claustrophobia sinks deeper and deeper into your gut. They don’t budge in the slightest. Kicking the rocks with your hind legs doesn’t help either. You’re trapped. Trapped and buried alive. When kicking against the rocks for the tenth time doesn’t work, you resort to lying on your back, pushing against the top of the cave with your hooves in a dire, useless attempt to make more room. Maybe you’re going mad when you feel the walls closing in on you, smothering you in the darkness as the perceived lack of air turns you light-headed. It’s only now you notice the terrified, demented screams that have been filling the cave this whole time. And a moment later you recognize them as your own. You have given up. You can't leave now. You’re trapped in here forever! You’re going to die down here! “You’re going to be okay. Everything’s going to be alright.” The dreadful words inside your head begin to soften, turning into a gentle, reassuring voice that slows your beating heart is only by a fraction. You suddenly realise that these calm, welcome words aren’t in your head after all, but from the pony girl who had also been a victim of the collapse. Perhaps fear had made you forget until now. “You can do this, you can help us.” the tender tone continued, “You can help us both. Please, just be brave. For the both of us. Please.” You take a few deep breaths, steadying yourself enough to give a coherent reply in short, high-pitched bursts; “Brave? How would that help? How is anything gonna help us now?! Are you even afraid?” “Afraid?” she whispers, “To be honest… I’m terrified.” Those quiet words are enough to reduce your nerves from a flustered wreck to a mildly-panicked hum of guilt; how the heck could you be so self-absorbed? The frail female pony - who was sobbing to herself no more than a minute or two ago - was more in control of her fears than you! And until now, you’d have quite comfortably called yourself a fully-grown stallion… “But,” she continues, “If we keep calm, maybe we could find a way out. We just need to keep ourselves under control. Please?” “You… you’re right.” There’s really no way you can argue with that - if not for her sound reasoning, at least for her soft, honeyed voice, “I’m sorry. I guess I just lost it.” While the gnawing claustrophobic fear still bites into your mind, you have to admit, whoever this little pony is, her presence seems to dispel the grim hopelessness of your situation. You can even breathe easier, unless that’s just a trick of the mind. “When the rocks fell, they blocked off the way we came in,” you explain to her, “I can’t budge them either. Do you know any other way out?” Unknown to you, she shakes her head, then, realizing how uninformative that action is in total darkness, she speaks; “There isn’t one. I only crawled in here to fetch Mister Scabbins-” “Who?” you interrupt, “You mean there’s another pony in here?” “Um, no, he’s-” “Wait, don’t tell me, a friend of that white bunny?” “Y-you’ve met Angel? Yes, Scabbins is a friend of his. Oh…” her voice lowered to a heartbreaking realisation, “At least, he was a friend.” You decide it’s best to keep talking to her, as a way to keep both of your minds off the whole ‘stuck and buried alive in a cave’ thing. “Are you saying this Scabbins guy is dead now? Was he the small dead thing you were holding?” Her reply consists of a dismayed squeak and some despondent sniffles. You then decide it’s best to change the subject, before you make her cry. “So, we’re stuck and buried alive in a cave, huh?” No, wait, any other subject than that, idiot! Assessing the situation, you confirm that there is no way to push or shift the heaving rocks firmly lodged into place. Feeling with your hooves, the dirt directly above the rocks felt soft, no doubt loosened during the collapse. Perhaps you could dig out, digging directly upwards, using just your bare hooves? “A-are you sure that wouldn’t cause another cave-in?” the timid mare asks when you relay your plan to her. “I have no idea.” you admit, “but we don’t have a lot of choice here, uh…” Huh. It took you until now to realise you didn’t even know her name yet. Best save that question for a less hazardous time and place, though. ******* Thump. Thump. Thump. The sound of you striking your hoof against the cave’s interior becomes familiar to you both as the minutes drag on. You’ve been making good progress considering the lack of tools, too, since you can almost stand up on all fours in the area you‘re digging. You choose to remain on your back, facing upwards, however; a good position for breaking up the earth once you ignore the dirt falling into your face and mane. Fighting against light-headedness, you can’t tell whether you’re tired from digging, or weak from the lack of air. After a while, your shy, reluctant companion says something; “Um, excuse me mister.” “Is everything alright back there? How are you h- Aack!” You quickly learn it’s not clever to dig and talk at the same time; the falling dirt doesn’t taste nice. “How are you holding up?” you croak, finishing your sentence. “N-not that it’s any of my business of anything,” she whispers, “but you might want to dig more like a mole. It might be faster that way.” “Like a mole?” you ponder, “Are you sure that would work?” “I’m sure. I mean, not sure. I mean…” the mare’s voice delicately flusters, “you can’t be sure unless you try.” Taking what she said to heart, you throw your fore-hooves with all of your strength into the dirt above you. You then push outwards, prying the dirt apart, feeling it crumble and fall over your face. Your eyes are tightly shut, preventing any loam from blinding you - not that having your eyes open would help you in this darkness. Digging in a second time, you can’t help but notice a difference in your progress; that one burrowing action just brushed aside two, three inches of soil, instead of just a few millimetres like most of your past attempts. Unbelievable. “It’s… it’s working.” you call back to her, “That worked!” For the first time, you feel you are genuinely going to be alright. A full minute of frantic mole-like digging goes by and you find yourself having to stand on your hind legs to keep tunnelling upwards. Another minute and you can feel small, wispy roots scratching at your hooves. Grass roots. Soft, green grass, trees, sunlight, air… it’s all right above you. One powerful thump from your exhausted hooves and a thin beam of light pierces the blackness. A second thump and the hole is almost enough to squeeze through. A third and final thump, and you burst through the ground, out of your tomb, and to freedom and fresh air.
Part 3Your eyes sting, not from the dirt that crusts around them, but from the bright, brilliant glare of the sun you thought you’d never see again. The faintest breeze, whipping through the greenest grass, causes your mud-stained fur coat-hairs to stand on end. You gratefully breathe in the chilly air, and lift yourself out of the hole you had dug. Immediately afterwards, you turn back to the opening in the ground, and lower your fore-hooves into it. A moment later, two bright yellow hooves rise out from the darkness, wrapping themselves gingerly around your own. Slowly, you pull yourself backwards, dragging your mare companion out of the hole. First, her fore-hooves, then her head, complete with a wispy, candyfloss coloured mane. And then, to your surprise, her wings; you didn’t expect a pegasus of all pony-kind to be in a cave. You finally pull her out completely, her mane-matching tail being the last feature to see the light of day. This is the first time you had properly seen her in full daylight, aside from the occasional passing-by in Ponyville, where she was always with somepony or another. Her formerly sleek coat of fur is dishevelled, the matching feathers of her wings ruffled. Dark, dirty clumps of mud speckle her hair and tail. Her deep, blue eyes, sunken and reddened from crying, glance you up and down as she sees you for the first time as well. Not that you looked any better off than her. “Th-thank you for helping me back there,” she stutters, as if seemingly forgetting who startled her, thus causing the collapse, in the first place, “you… um… you have a worm in your mane, by the way.” With a quick flick of your hoof to brush away said worm, you turn the subject to something much more important in your mind; “You should make your way home, you must be exhausted after all that,” You know you are, at the very least. “Draw yourself a nice relaxing bath or something.” You look down at your own dirt-encrusted hooves, “Yeah, a hot bath. That’s the ticket.” “A-hem!” You both turn your heads toward the source of the throat-clearing; a white bunny impatiently taps its foot, and points to his open mouth in a “feed me” gesture. Remembering the fluffy git who sent you into those caves in the first place, you reply with a gesture of your own to him. Unfortunately, due to the lack of fingers on your hooves, the said explicit gesture was lost upon both the bunny and his shy owner forever. “Excuse me, mister… um…” the timid pegasus spoke in a soft undertone, “but I can’t remember your name.” “Never gave it.” you reply with a pinch of complacency. After you tell her, you ask for the pleasure of knowing hers; you could even see the faintest blush past all the dried mud on her face. “Fluttershy.” she timidly replies. “Nice to meet you, Fluttershy.” That name rolls off your tongue so well. “I’m heading back to Ponyville, if you want I can walk you home.” you try to give your most comforting, laid-back smirk, but looking into her deep, watery eyes you can’t help but feel a nervous twitch. Perhaps she picked up on that. “Oh, you don’t have to do that if you don‘t want to…” she tilts her head somewhere into the distance, “My house is just a short walk away. I only live on the outskirts of town, you see. Ah!” she gives you a slight shock as something springs into her mind. “You say you live in Ponyville?” After a brief pause, wondering where she’s going with this, you nod. “I simply can’t let you walk all the way back there covered in dirt! Come to my house instead, I’ll make you a nice hot bubble-bath! It’s the least I can do to thank you myself!” “Thank me for wha-?” you cut yourself off when it sinks in - the cute mare is offering to take you around her own house and give you a free bath. Of course, she’s thanking you for digging her out of the collapse earlier, but maybe it wouldn’t be wise to remind her that you startled her into causing it. The thought of a good soak humming in your mind, you agree. At the very least, it would help you take your mind off scheming bunnies and near-burials. ******* Mice, rats, birds, chipmunks, squirrels, ferrets and… ugh, bunnies… hop, flap and scuttle around the various nooks and crannies of Fluttershy’s swarm-welcoming house. At first, they scampered off at your presence, but after an introduction by the helpful house owner, they slowly begin to warm up to you. “So many small fluffy things,” you gently hold your hoof out, which is soon cautiously sniffed at, then nuzzled, by a nearby ferret, “Do you take care of them all, Fluttershy?” She replies with a humble nod, “Oh yes, I could never turn down the chance to help Equestria’s creatures, great and small! Luckily, the big ones rarely need help, or else I‘d need a bigger house!” she adds with a giggle. You spend the next few minutes asking other questions about her, and occasionally answering her own. As stressful as taking care of so many fragile little things may appear, she seems to take it all in stride, living with little reward but for the satisfaction of helping them. How a timid pony such as her could take on a passion so exhaustive, and stick to it through thick and thin purely out of commitment to care, you found awe-inspiring. “You know, Fluttershy,” (any reason to say her name again,) “you can have your bath before mine, since it‘s your house. I’ll look after these critters in the meantime.” You opt against suggesting to share the bathing experience with her, as much as you want to - last time you tried something like that, it ended in a slap and a warning from the Spa staff. At first she’s slightly off-put by your gentlecoltly offer, but you insist she goes first, pointing out how you can’t stand to see a pretty face hidden behind so much mud. You can’t tell whether it was an upbeat squeak or a high-pitched giggle, but she doesn’t argue with you, tenderly trotting into her bathroom. A few minutes pass, as you enjoy watching the occasional hummingbird flutter from one of the many birdhouses to another, or a couple of squirrels racing across the wooden floorboards playfully. Eventually, a small, light-brown rat pokes its head out of a nearby mouse hole, and scuttles over to you, looking up quizzically with its tiny eyes. You might call yourself crazy, but it looks like it’s trying to ask you something. Before you can even try to understand what it’s asking, the bathroom door opens, a fresh, clean pegasus sauntering out. Her hair runs in slightly damp, pink strands down her head, her wings widely spread to help dry faster. Her lips are cutely raised into a tiny smile when she looks at you, but that quickly disappears when she sees the small rat by your side. “Mrs Scabbins,” she breathes, her slightly upbeat demeanour replaced by one of gloom when she realises what she has to do. “Um, you can have your bath now,” she tells you quickly, “I’ll just… need a moment with the animals.” ******* Who would’ve thought a wooden tub would be so relaxing? You feel all the stress from the cave-in fiasco melt away with the dirt you finally scrub off. Once you feel clean enough, you sigh, contently, deciding it probably wouldn’t hurt to lie in the bath’s warm waters a while longer, half-tempted to fall asleep right there. Hold on a minute… You hear the smallest murmurs coming from the other side of the wall. It’s certainly Fluttershy’s voice, you can tell, but it’s so quiet it’s nearly unintelligible to you. Creeping out of the tub, you hastily dry yourself with the nearest (and incredibly fluffy) towel, before pressing you ear up against the wooden door. Still not loud enough. Breath held, you turn the knob as quietly as possible, pushing the door open by the tiniest crack. “…didn’t wake up. I’m so sorry.” Peeking through the gap, you see Fluttershy kneeling on all fours, speaking tenderly to the rat. It takes you a moment to realise she’s being the bearer of bad news. That dead creature she was cradling back in the cave - the brown rat she was speaking to now must have been its significant other. Another tiny rodent, so small it couldn’t have been more than a week or so old, scampers up to its mother. Poor Fluttershy could only watch pitifully as the two creatures return to their mouse hole in the corner of the room, knowing their home and family would forever be one rat short. Slow seconds tick by while the poor girl stays frozen in her kneeling position, seemingly deep in thought. Or maybe she’s shocked at what she just had to do. Another lingering moment painfully passes, and you notice her gradually close in on herself; her once-light wings hang down to the ground, her legs bending from kneeling to a near foetal position. The ears on her head pitifully droop, her face burying itself deep into her forelegs. You creak the bathroom door fully open, finally stepping out to let her know you‘re there. You carefully amble to her side just in time to see her break down into a shivering wreck.
Part 4“Fluttershy!” you kneel down beside her, the concern with her being in such emotional pain gnawing your stomach, “What happened!?” You know exactly what happened. Her constant obligation to care for the animals, her sense of duty towards the health and well-being of every creature, the traumatic experience back in the mud cave, the guilt of not being able to save even the smallest rat… all of those responsibilities, stresses and trials. Bit by bit, they were weighing down upon her. And breaking the tragic news of failing to save the rat’s life-partner? That was the straw that broke her, on top of all the others. And now they’re tearing her apart from the inside. In an attempt to comfort her in any way possible, you gently nudge her with your snout, trying to draw her out of the ball she had curled herself into. Instead, she curls up tighter, resisting your reassurance. “Please, I want to help you.” you whisper as calmly as you can into her ear. The tiniest squeal and hopeless sobbing is her only response. “I don’t like seeing you like this, Fluttershy.” “Th- then don’t l- look.” Her voice muffles, her face remains buried in her forelegs. Maybe she thinks if she can’t see you, you can’t see her. Slowly, gently, your fore-hooves scoop her from the ground slightly. This time, she doesn’t struggle back, letting you raise her face towards your own. Tears still streaming from her eyes, she does her best to keep a straight face while keeping eye contact. Even in this sorry state, you still think she’s one of the most beautiful ponies you’ve ever come across. And deep down, you decide that you’ll do everything it takes to make her feel better. Your forelegs wrap around her, embracing her in a snug, firm hug. At first she tenses at the sudden affection, but steadily, she hugs back, nuzzling your shoulder. Her tears continue to flow, dampening your shoulder. You don’t mind. “It’s j- just too hard, y- you know?” she stutters, “S- so many little l- lives all depend on me…” You stroke her head soothingly, letting her know you’re listening. It’s no use to her keeping her anxiety bottled up, you reason, and letting it all out might be good for her. You hope it’s good for her, at least. There is however, one thing she mentions that you absolutely insist isn’t true. “And… and if I couldn’t even care for one of them, how can I take care of a whole houseful? I feel so useless-” “You’re not useless, Fluttershy,” you cut her off assertively, “You’re far from useless, you’re one of the most helpful ponies I know. And I‘ve only just met you today.” “You’re just saying that.” she sniffles vacantly. “I’m telling the truth. I can prove you‘re not useless.” “How?” is all she manages to say. Her throat is no doubt sore from her crying, and thus her words become quieter, fewer and far between. You think for a brief moment, trying hard not to upset her as you pick your words. “Well… remember back in the mud-cave?” You really aren’t keen on the idea of reminding her, but she needs an example for how useful she is. And she was incredibly useful back there. “Remember when I lost it, and started screaming the place down? I was freaking out down there, and you calmed me down. You helped me when I thought everything was lost, Fluttershy.” Your head rests against hers as you hug her ever-so-slightly tighter. “Just like how I want to help you now.” “But I- I didn’t help you,” she mumbles with a strain in her voice, “You did all the digging. I just lay there being a waste of space.” “Actually, you didn’t,” you counter. If she thought for half a second she was a waste of space, you would shoot that ridiculous idea out of the sky. “You’re the one who told me to dig like a mole, remember? You’re the one who helped me dig fast enough to escape, if it wasn’t for your advice, Fluttershy, we’d still be down there, digging. Or worse.” You loosen your hug just enough to bring yourself face-to-face with her. The tears still run down her beautiful face. But thankfully, she’s smiling. Just faintly. “You saved both my mind, and my life,” you tell her, trying not to get lost in her eyes, “You risked life and limb not just for other ponies like me, but for your animal friends,” You gesture outwards towards the rest of the room, almost being startled at what you just noticed - many, many tiny, little eyes, from almost every kind of small beast, winged or otherwise, had gathered around you and Fluttershy, each looking worried, almost apologetic, towards the pegasus. Each one in total silence, wondering why their strong, kind motherly figure was so upset. Fluttershy herself lifts her head slightly, scanning the room, gently smiling through her tears at every single one of them. You hazard a guess that she could name them all on the spot too. “Don’t you see? You’re not useless! You never were useless, and to me - and to them - you never will be.” You slowly draw her back into your hug, her face burying itself back into your shoulder. You nuzzle up to her head, and whisper; “You’re the kindest, most caring pony I’ve ever met. And nothing will change that.” Her reply is almost inaudible, but it causes your heart to skip regardless; “Thank you.” You both lie there for the longest time; your loving embrace uninterrupted, sharing the rise and fall of each other’s chests, the gentle rhythm of your heartbeats. One by one, the small animals that had gathered around begin to take their leave. Some birds decide to return back to their small wooden bird houses, others flutter out of the open window along with several other animals. The smaller rodents return to their respective mouse-holes and cracks in the wall. Soon it’s just you, her, and the sunset flickering it’s last over the horizon. Finally, you whisper in her ear, “Fluttershy? How are you feeling?” There’s no response from her. Only her slow, gentle breathing on your shoulder. Delicately, you release your fore-hooves from around her and gaze at her beautiful face. Her closed eyes were calm, her mind peacefully drifting far away from her problems. She had fallen fast asleep in your arms. You carefully scoop her up, letting her lie on your back. It’s astonishing, how she feels as light as her own feathers. Silently, you carry her up the wooden staircase, finding her bedroom with no trouble. You trot to her bedside, and gently lay her down, tucking her in under the covers. She stirs, and for a brief moment you fear you may have disturbed her peace. Instead, she rolls over in her sleep, grabbing her nearest pillow and nuzzling against it. Perhaps she thought it was still you. At least she was still smiling, her dreams probably filled with all the wonderful fluffy creatures she can imagine. She definitely needs the rest, and now that you think of it, so do you. Surely Fluttershy wouldn’t mind if you stayed the night, albeit in different rooms. Once you had made your way down the stairs, you lie on the nearby green couch in the main room, close your eyes, and let your mind wander. The last thing you see in your mind’s eye is the kindest pony in Equestria.
Part 5The warm mid-morning sunlight pours through an open window. The sound of birds singing welcomes you back into the waking world, whether you asked of it or not. You toss and turn, yawning, the scent of vegetable soup doing a better job for your senses than the birds. You guess your room-mate must be making himself breakfast. And then you remember. You finally lift your eyelids, taking in Fluttershy’s main room. A lot of the animals seem to have left, going about their daily business in the outside world, a few of them scuttle back and forth without a care. But what got your attention the most was the pegasus who had just placed two steaming bowls of soup on the nearby table, next to some slices of soft bread. “Good morning, sleepyhead!” she chirps as melodically as the birds, “Did you get a good night’s sleep?” “Yeah, I feel great,” you lift yourself up off the couch, and help yourself to your soup bowl and a couple bread slices, “What about you? Feeling better?” She blushes, and stares into her own soup. “I’m feeling much better now, thank you, but…” she hesitates. “But what?” you ask, soaking up some of the soup with your bread, “You can tell me.” “It’s just that… I feel so embarrassed,” she concludes, “I’m sorry I broke down in front of you, I really didn’t see it coming.” “Oh, don’t feel that way, Fluttershy,” you console her, “Sometimes things just pile on top of you in ways you don’t expect. It’s best not to keep these feelings bottled up, you know.” She returns a smile, “I know. And um, thank you for helping me get through that. I’m glad I had somepony’s shoulder close by.” “Always happy to help! Anytime you need a spare hoof with the anything, I’d be more than willing to lend you mine!” “I’d like that,” she grins, “if… if you’re not busy or anything.” “Alright, whenever I have some free time then!” you agree, “I’m not doing much these days anyway, it’s mostly my room-mate who-” something clicks in your head, “Oh heck, I’ve not been home since yesterday! He’s probably put a search party together by now!” Fluttershy giggles at your sudden, inelegant epiphany, “You should really get back to let him know you’re alright.” You nod, mopping up the remaining soup with the last of your bread, “I’ll be back around later,” you tell her, “I’ll help you with feeding the critters.” After saying quick goodbyes, Fluttershy shows you the door, letting you trot outside into the morning sunlight. You notice her waver for a moment before she shuts the door. She’s probably just organising her thoughts from yesterday. Maybe you could swing by again later, just in case her troubles are still to unruly… The same goes for your troubles too. Why’d you let her pour her feelings out and not do the same thing in return? Would she appreciate it? What if she doesn’t? But if she does… Ah, screw it! You turn around on the spot and head back to Fluttershy’s home. It’s worth a shot. Better to know today, rather than spend a lifetime wondering "what if". Knock-knock-knock. Two sea-foam blue eyes peek out from a crack in her open door. “Oh, hello again. You must live very close by if you managed to get back this quickly!” “It’s not that, Fluttershy. I just want to ask you something before I go.” The pegasus pushes the door all the way open, her head cutely tilted to the side. “What is it?” You open your mouth to tell her, but find it hard to find the right words. Taking a deep breath, you try again; “I want to tell you,” you begin, choosing your words carefully and slowly, “That I was being honest when I said you were the kindest, most caring pony I’ve ever met. And I… uh…” You forget the exact words you were planning to say - those deep, spellbinding eyes captivate you with their reflection of the morning light. “Argh, this sounded far easier in my head. The thing is, Fluttershy, I think you’re really nice.” Nice? Was that the best word you could honestly think of? Seriously? “And, er, I want you to be nice together. No, wait, I mean us. I want us to be nice together.” Wait, that didn’t make a lick of sense. Your hooves paw at the ground as you try to set your mind back on track. “What I’m trying to say is… that I like you. And I… don’t want to not ask you out.” You have no idea why you just used double negatives, “Because if I didn’t ask you out, I’d never find out if you’d go on a… a date with me. So I wanna do the opposite of not asking you out-” You’re cut off in the middle of your awkwardly brain-teasing proposal by a soft snout pressing up against your cheeks. The brief touch of Fluttershy’s warm lips on the side of your face sends you into a dizzy blush so vivid you would probably glow in the dark. “It’s a date!” she chuckles with a cheerful pinch of enthusiasm, her endearing yellow face now as red as yours. “Come back this evening, I’ll be getting ready in the meantime!“ You nod. Her door closes. You stand perfectly still, waiting your mind to process what just happened. Once it finally sinks in, you trot off, wearing the biggest, daftest smile ever. Yesterday, you were just planning to go for a walk. Today, you’re planning to go on a date with the prettiest, kindest, most beautiful pony in Equestria. “Fluttershy.” That name rolls off your tongue so well.
Epilogue What the heck? The door’s locked! You stand outside the door of your own house, expecting your room-mate to be in. He’s usually home by lunch, since he only does the early morning shift at the post office, and he’s not said a word to you about doing overtime… no matter, you have a spare key. Several hours later, you’re finally ready for your date; properly washed and cleaned (making extra sure to get out any dirt you may have missed last time) and ready to spend the evening with your perfect, peaceful pegasus. And just when you were about to leave, who should walk in other than a beaten, yet oddly upbeat, male unicorn. “About time you got back,” you say, “I was just about to leave on a date!” “Sorry about that, I just got back from a date myself.” he replies. “Really?” you found it improbable, yet cool, how you both somehow managed to find a special somepony on the same day, “Tell me all about it later, once I get back, I don’t wanna be late for this.” It is at this point you both notice something unusual about the other. Your unicorn room-mate goes first; “How did you suddenly meet a girl pony anyway?” “Don’t ask. Where did you get the black eye from?” “Don’t ask.”
