The Cuckoo

by Melon Hunter

Rating: teen
Tags: Pinkie Pie, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Other
Length: 5676

A simple foalsitting task becomes something far more sinister...

With Mr. and Mrs. Cake away, Pinkie is left to take care of Pound and Pumpkin Cake, and she vows to be the best foalsitter she can possibly be for them. However, her plans are thwarted by something lurking in the shadows, something that has other ideas for the Cake twins...

An entry for the Nightmare Night 2012 competition.

Published 2012-10-24 08:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-10-24 08:00:01 UTC

Leaving the Nest

The Cuckoo

By Melon Hunter

“Pinkie, you’re absolutely sure about this?”

It had been the umpteenth time that day that Mrs. Cake had asked that question, and for the umpteenth time, Pinkie Pie rolled her blue eyes in amusement and gave her good-natured smile.

“Of course, Mrs. Cake! I’ve looked after Pound and Pumpkin more times than I can count now! Isn’t that right, guys?” A pair of happy gurgles behind her confirmed her assertion.

“Oh, I know, Pinkie, but it is a whole week this time. I’d really rather not have to burden you with the twins for so long, but you know how important the Canterlot Cakes and Confectionary Committee’s Convention is...” The short blue mare looked regretful, before being cut off by her husband.

“Dear, I know you worry about the kids, but Pinkie’s right. She knows what she’s doing.” The pink earth pony nodded vehemently. Mrs. Cake chewed her lip for a moment in silence. In the background, birds sang and a cuckoo gave its familiar call.

“Oh, you’re right. I’m just being silly.” She stepped forward and gave Pinkie a hug. “Now, you know where the milk bottles are, and the talcum powder, and the diapers, and...” Each item was met with a “Mmhmm,” and another nod from the younger mare.

“Cup Cake, we’re going to miss our train if we don’t get a move on,” Carrot Cake said urgently. He walked over to his children, who were held in their cradles on either side of Pinkie’s body, where saddlebags would normally be worn. “Now, you’ll be good for your Auntie Pinkie, OK?” The twins giggled as he gave them a peck on the forehead each, followed by Cup Cake.

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Mr. and Mrs. Cake!” Pinkie said happily. “I’ve got it all planned out. They won’t even know you’re gone!”

Another pang of worry crossed Cup Cake’s face. “And the bakery? You’ll be alright by your—”

“Pinkie’s friends are helping, remember? We drew up a rota and everything,” Mr. Cake explained patiently.

“Oh, yes. Well, then...” The pair of earth ponies picked up their luggage. “I suppose that will be everything.” She gave one last wistful sigh as she looked at her children.

Her husband put a foreleg around her shoulders. “Come on. They’ll be fine.” He looked up at Pinkie. “Keep them safe. We’ll see you in a week!”

Pinkie waved cheerfully to the couple as they walked to the station, Cup Cake casting back anxious glances as disappeared into the distance. Once they were obscured by the crowds in the market, the pink pony turned back to the foals. Two pairs of bright, expectant eyes gazed back at her. “So, who’s ready for the best week of their lives?!” Pound and Pumpkin both replied with an excited laugh.

“OK then! Let’s go!” She bounced inside Sugarcube Corner, mind already racing with all manner of fun and frivolity as the door closed behind her. A whole week of staying-up-late, eating-too-many-sweets, as-many-parties-as-you-like fun! Well, there was all the foalsitting duties like bottle feeding and diaper changing, not to mention being in charge of the bakery... but she enjoyed that as well! This was going to be great.

Much later, long after Luna had raised her moon, Pinkie curled up in bed, swathed in blankets and pillows piled beneath her. Illuminated by firefly-light, an Incredible Batmare graphic novel lay open beside her head. The day had gone even better than expected, the twins had been put to bed without incident, and best of all, exactly zero bags of flour had been broken over her head. As her blue eyes followed the action on the pages, the mare felt a soft nibbling at her mane.

“Gummy...” she chided. A pair of pink hooves reached back and picked up the tiny alligator. “What did I tell you about my mane? It’s not cotton candy; you’re not meant to eat it!” He merely stared at her gormlessly with big, purple eyes. “Although, sometimes I wish it was cotton candy; that would be amazingly super-duper convenient whenever I wanted a snack! Unless it didn’t grow back... I think I’d rather not be—”

BANG!

Pinkie was startled out of her monologue by the sudden noise. She gasped, dropping Gummy to the bed, eliciting a disgruntled scraw from the reptile. “What was that?!” she exclaimed. Anxiety burned in the pit of her stomach as the wails of an alarmed foal reached her ears. “Oh, no no no no no...” The pink pony leapt out of bed, grabbing the firefly lantern in her mouth. She galloped across the hall to the twins’ bedroom.

As she burst through the door, Pinkie’s eyes flicked frantically about the room, to find the source of the disturbance. A pile of toys had toppled over, but surely that couldn’t have caused such an almighty bang...? She ignored the cause for the moment, hurrying over to the cots. Pound Cake was bawling loudly, while Pumpkin merely shook and stared in silence at the scattered pile.

The mare swept up the pair of foals in her hooves, cuddling them close to her and trying to shush them. Concern lined her face as neither pony reacted to her reassurance. Pound Cake continued wailing, trying to push his sister away with frantic shoves from his tiny forehooves.

“Shhhh... shhhh...” Pinkie tried to rock the pair to soothe them, to no avail. Eventually, she placed the quiet Pumpkin back on her cot. With his sister now elsewhere, Pound buried his head in Pinkie’s chest, still squalling incessantly. “It’s OK, Pound...” she murmured. “Just some toys fell over, see?” After a few minutes of coddling, the pegasus began to calm down and doze off. The mare let out a sigh, and began to set the colt down into his cot next to his sister.

As soon as his wings touched the sheets, Pound cried out again. Pinkie’s face scrunched up with concern as she pulled him back out. “Pound Cake! What’s the matter?!” she said. All the while, Pumpkin just stared silently up at the pair. With a heavy heart, Pinkie disregarded the unicorn for a moment, placing him up on her shoulders and walking up and down the room to calm him down again. She felt miniscule forelegs grip her neck tightly as she did so, and a pair of orange eyes following her around the room.

Once the little colt had fallen asleep again, Pinkie walked over to the other cot in the room, which had lain disused for most of the twins’ life, the pair preferring to sleep together... at least, until now. She set him down in the pristine sheets, not wanting to disturb Pound for a third time. Worry coursed through the pink pony; since when did the twins not want to be together?

Walking back over to Pumpkin, Pinkie wore a cautious smile, trying not to set off tears from the other foal. That... didn’t seem like it was going to happen, though. The little filly just kept staring at her without reaction. “You alright, Pumpkin?” she asked quietly. Just another stare. She pulled a silly face, and another, and another, and even a very quiet raspberry. Pumpkin, who would normally be in fits of giggles by this point, simply looked at Pinkie blankly.

With a heavy sigh, Pinkie reached under the bed for an item she kept there for emergencies. She’d hoped never to have to use it, but Pumpkin’s lack of response was twisting her stomach into an anxious knot. Blue eyes scrunched shut as the artefact was activated.

Poof.

Flour had splattered across the floor, and completely coated Pinkie, turning for mane and coat a ghostly white. She tentatively looked at the young foal, who now seemed more confused than amused. “C’mon, Pumpkin! Not even a little laugh for your Auntie Pinkie?” A nervous giggle escaped her lips, and as it did, a seeming comprehension appeared on the filly’s face.

“Ha. Ha ha ha. Ha ha!” The laugh was a little mechanical, but it nonetheless elicited a great sigh of relief from her carer. Pinkie pulled Pumpkin up into a hug.

“Ooooh, don’t you do that to me again!” she cooed. “I was worried about you! Now don’t you fret; I’m gonna sleep in here, and I’ll laugh at any of those meany-weany ghosts trying to scare you!” Another halting giggle. The pink pony set down the filly in her cot, before rushing back to her room to scrub off the worst of the flour and return with as much of her bedding as she could carry. Pillows and duvets were piled onto the floor to make a makeshift bed, and Pinkie cast herself down upon them.

“C’mon, then, Pumpkin. You’re safe now. Time to go to sleep.” The filly once again stared blankly at her.

“Sl’p?” Pumpkin babbled.

“Sleep. You know—” She put her head down on the pillow and began snoring in an exaggerated manner. “I’m an expert you... know...” Pinkie frowned as the snores continued. It wasn’t her, and it definitely wasn’t Pound Cake, so... She jumped out of bed and walked over to the cot. “Pumpkin! You don’t need to do that to go to sleep! You just—”

She ceased her chatter as she prodded the filly softy, then began moving her slightly more urgently. Pumpkin was out like a light! “Wh... you’ve never snored like that before...” Pinkie murmured. Almost immediately, the overly loud snores died down to gentle breathing. “Huh. Why weren’t you that easy to get to bed when I first foalsat you?” The pink mare shook her head in bemusement. She turned away and set herself back down in her own bed for the night.

However, Pinkie soon came to envy the ease with which the twins drifted off. Sleep eluded her for a long time as she tossed and turned, residual anxiety from the incident gradually draining out of her. “Oh, Pinkie Pie, you silly filly. Nothing was wrong. Nothing at all...” she reassured herself. She finally fell asleep to the faint sounds of the dawn chorus, and the call of a cuckoo.

“Pinkie, really, it’s nothing to worry about!”

“Then why did you get Nurse Redheart?!”

It was the morning after, and Twilight and Rainbow Dash were helping fill in for the absent Cakes. Pinkie paced back and forth on the bakery floor, jaw clenched tight.

“I just thought it would be for the best if they were looked at. The way you described it, Pumpkin Cake might be in mild shock,” Twilight explained.

“What? Nonononono, Twilight! Everything’s fine!” Pinkie said. “It was just a loud noise, that’s all!”

The unicorn raised an eyebrow and continued. “Well, no harm in checking, I suppose.” As Pinkie pouted at her, she couldn’t help but elicit a small sigh. “Pinkie, this isn’t anything against you.”

“I know! I just thought I would be able to go a whole week without anything going wrong, and it already has on the first night! I even had to use my emergency bag of flour! Do you know how bad that is?!”

“Emergency bag...?” Twilight shook her head. “Don’t worry yourself too much, Pinkie.”

“Yeah! Since when did we have to tell the most cheerful pony in Ponyville to smile?” Rainbow piped up.

Pinkie perked up at the reassurance, her eyes brightening slightly, and her mane almost imperceptibly became a little curlier. “Yeah! You’re right guys! I’m sorry.”

“You wanna take a nap? You look a little whacked out,” the pegasus said.

“I’m fine!” the pink pony exclaimed. “Since when do I need a nap, Miss Sleepyhead?”

Before the friendly cajoling could go any further, Nurse Redheart walked out of the side room where she had been seeing to the Cake twins. “Nothing wrong as far as I can see,” she said simply. She got no further as Pinkie rushed past her into the room.

“Goody! Now let’s get on with the baking! Those cookies aren’t gonna bake thems—” Her exclamation cut off rapidly. “What d’you mean, ‘nothing wrong’?” she said, rounding on the nurse. “Look!” An accusing pink hoof was pointed at the two foals.

“What? They’re just playing together,” Rainbow said. “Isn’t that what they usually do?”

Pinkie shook her head rapidly. “Not like that!” The twins were playing with blocks on the floor inside a playpen, although while Pound Cake gleefully stacked and knocked down the wooden cubes, Pumpkin merely stared at him, occasionally reaching out with a tentative hoof to touch one of the cubes. “They always work together when they’re playing with blocks!” The outburst caused the two young ponies to look up at her. Pound swiftly returned his attention to his toys, while his sister continued staring at her.

“She may be a little shaken by being woken up by a loud noise, but there’s no symptoms of shock or anything similar,” Redheart said in the tone of one used to overprotective parents and carers.

“Come on, Pinkie. I know you worry a lot when foalsitting, but there’s no harm done,” Twilight said patiently.

“Yeah... it’s no big deal, Pinkie.” The flippant remark earned Rainbow a reproachful glare from Twilight. The pegasus scratched the back of her head awkwardly. “Uh... Well if it makes you feel better, I guess it looks like it’s gonna be a pretty quiet day. Want to watch the twins while we take care of the bakery? I think we can handle it.”

The pink mare’s head shot up. “No! It’s fine! I can bake too!” She bounced past her friends toward the counter. “I’ll just keep an eye on them like I always do.” She gestured to the trays and ovens in the kitchen behind. “C’mon! These cookies aren’t gonna bake themselves!”

With trepidous expressions, Twilight and Rainbow Dash glanced at one another, before walking over to Pinkie.

And as the day wore on, nothing did go wrong. But every time Pinkie moved around the crowded bakery, she could swear she could feel the gaze of two orange eyes upon her.

Pinkie staggered slightly as she dragged her mattress into the twins’ bedroom. Contrary to Rainbow’s assertion, that day had been even busier than normal, and the dual duties of satisfying customers and looking after the two foals had taken its toll on the normally energetic pony. She’d placed the pair into the same cot again, although to her chagrin Pound had kept fluttering his wings incessantly. As she gave the mattress one last tug, the sound of flickering still filled the room.

The pink pony spat out the mattress, and frowned at the cot. “C’mon, little fella, bedtime!” The little pegasus gazed up at her, before shooting another suspicious gaze at the unicorn he shared the cot with. “It’s your sister, Pound Cake! Look!”. Pinkie gently pushed Pound over to the filly, who had fallen asleep in an instant, just as the night before. The colt frowned and let out a plaintive cry, looking as though he was about to burst into tears again.

The commotion caused Pumpkin’s eyes to flutter open, and she sat up, looking inquisitively at them. The pegasus crawled a little closer, before sitting in front of his sister. He prodded her nose tentatively, before stealing back. After a little while, the filly returned the gesture. Pound Cake let out an almost relieved giggle.

“Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha!” Again, that slightly halting laugh from Pumpkin. The pair repeated the gesture a couple more times, before settling back down beneath the sheets together. Once again, the filly fell asleep almost instantly, leaving her brother to shuffle into a more comfortable position beside her.

Pinkie drew the blanket over the pair carefully, before returning to her to her own bed. Nothing was wrong. Nothing was wrong! So why, oh why, was there another horrible knot of anxiety burning her stomach and keeping her awake? The pink pony curled up tighter and clenched her eyes shut, feeling fatigue from her disturbed sleep the night before tugging at her.

Yet every time she felt herself drifting off, another little noise would set her off: the rustling of leaves, Pound Cake’s wings twitching in his sleep... Once again, the mare found herself drifting off to the sound of bird calls, and dreamed of feathers and beady orange eyes.

She was back home once more, straight mane, blank flank, rocks everywhere. It was monotonous, grey, yet oddly comforting. Home, and the simple love of family. And yet... something was wrong. Amongst the farmed stones, birds flew and landed and nested. That was wrong. Nature didn’t come here, nature didn’t belong here. Her sterile little world had been invaded and she was angry.

Grey feathers scattered and alarmed cries rang out as a package of pink fury ran amongst the rocks, chasing away the intruders. Orange eyes glared at her from afar. And yet, no matter how much noise she made, no matter how many were chased away, more came.

And she tried, she tried so hard to make them go, and protect her own nest.

Her family paid no heed to her warnings, nor the birds. In fact, they soon paid no heed to her at all. She was now trapped outside her house, watching a parody of herself interact with her family. She was adult sized, yet her lank, dark pink mane and tail were long enough to sweep along the floor, and her back was adorned with a pair of huge wings almost the size of the Princesses’, covered with trailing grey feathers.

In panic, she pounded on the window, hollering and screaming. No answer, except from the imposter, who turned around and grinned wickedly, bright orange eyes shining with an evil gleam. In place of a snout, the fake pony had a bright yellow beak. It trotted over slowly, and sat on its hindlegs, staring at her.

“You don’t belong here!” she insisted.

“No. You don’t. My nest now. My home. My family.” The not-Pinkie’s eyes narrowed and beak shifted in a desecrated smile. “Run. While you still can.” The window slammed slut and curtains were drawn. She looked behind her.

Birds beyond number were perched on every surface, watching her intently. A sea of orange gazes fixated upon her. She moved a single hoof.

At once, the flock moved upon her. She ran, she screamed, but nothing could stop them. Claws tore at her mane and her flesh, leaving deep, bloody gashes. Under the weight of the assault, the little pony collapsed, crying out in horror as the birds destroyed her with beak and talon. And as they did so, there was the same cry, again and again:

“Cuck-oo. Cuck-oo. Cuck-oo...”

Pinkie let out a small scream as she awoke, mane slightly damp from a small puddle of her drool on the floor. In front of her impromptu napping place, the twins’ playpen was filled with the sounds of laughter and playtime. Must have just dropped off for a little while...

“Pinkie Pie! What in Equestria happened?!” came a concerned cry from behind her. She turned around in confusion to see Rarity stood in the doorway, looking aghast. What was Rarity doing here...? Oh, wasn’t she helping with the bakery today?

“‘m fine, just dropped off for a couple of minutes,” Pinkie said with a yawn. What was going on?! She never took a nap during the day; she was too hyped on sugar for that!

“Just a couple of minutes? Darling, you said you were checking on the twins nearly an hour ago! You screamed...” The unicorn’s face was creased with concern. “Is everything alright? You look utterly worn out!”

The pink pony shook her head, and bounced to her hooves, staggering slightly. She felt her mane sag around her neck, and despite an hour’s rest, her eyelids still felt as heavy as lead. “Everything’s fine, Rarity! You don’t need to do any-ny-ny...” Her sentence was terminated by another cavernous yawn, and she felt her legs buckle.

In an instant, she was being propped up by her friend, who put Pinkie down onto her haunches. “Everything is not fine, Pinkie Pie! You’re completely exhausted! Look at you!” Rarity berated her. “Mr. and Mrs. Cake are not going to appreciate you working yourself to death trying to look after the twins, are they?”

“I’m sorry... there’s just... something weird going on... nopony will listen...” Pinkie murmured into her friend’s shoulder.

“Uh, um, Pinkie?” The two ponies looked up to see Fluttershy stood in the doorway a chef’s hat balanced atop her head. “I heard raised voices... um.” She cleared her throat and continued. “Look, you remember last Applebuck Season? When Applejack ended up making those baked bads because she was so tired? She did some odd things while tired, too. I’m sure you’ll feel a lot better after you had some sleep. You don’t want to do something silly like that, do you?” The pink pony shook her head slowly. “Then I can take care of Pound and Pumpkin, and Rarity has the bakery. Go and get some rest. Come on.” She opened a wing and beckoned.

Pinkie shook her head and stood up, taking a step back. “Nonono! I’m just a little sleepy, but I’m nothing like Applejack! Just gimme a few cupcakes and I’ll be bouncing off the walls, just like usual!” Her body betrayed her, and she collapsed back onto her haunches.

Fluttershy focused her aqua blue eyes upon her in a stern expression. Not quite the Stare, but the earth pony felt her will drain away nonetheless. “Pinkie. We can take care of things for a few hours. Please?” The pink mare gave a reluctant groan, and walked over to the pegasus, who began guiding her up the stairs. She slumped against her butter yellow friend as they walked.

“Y-you won’t tell anypony about this, will you?” Pinkie asked quietly.

“Not a soul. You don’t need to worry,” Fluttershy reassured her.

They reached her bedroom, where Pinkie waited while the pegasus dragged the bedding back from the twins’ room. The two ponies quickly made the bed, before Pinkie climbed slowly into it. Outside, there came a brief cry from outside: “Cuck-oo.”

Immediately, the pink pony tensed up, eyes shooting open. “Wassat?!” she shrieked. Her breaths came short and shallow, on the verge of hyperventilating. Fluttershy cocked her head and listened.

“It’s just a cuckoo, Pinkie. They come to Ponyville this time of year. Would you like me to leave the window open a little? I find birdsong very relaxing.” The earth pony shook her head vehemently.

“No. No. Shut it up! And close the curtains.” Pinkie huddled up beneath her sheets, trembling slightly.

“O-OK. If you’re sure.” Tentatively, the yellow pegasus pulled the drapes across the closed window. “Would you like me to sing you a lullaby, perhaps? Put your mind at rest?”

The pink pony burned with embarrassment at being treated like a foal by her friend. “I’ll be fine, thanks. Everything’ll be fine... Just need to... need to...” Another huge yawn. Fluttershy walked over to the bed and gave her friend a reassuring hug.

“Have a good sleep, Pinkie. I’m sure you’ll feel a lot better when you wake up,” the pegasus murmured. “Good night—uh, good morning, rather.” She pulled the door shut behind her, leaving Pinkie to stew in her own anxiety in the dimly lit room.

Upon waking, Pinkie yawned and stretched. She felt... different. Better? No. Drained of fatigue, but drained of everything else, too. She felt her mane fall down and brush against her neck. A hoof reached up and touched the hair. Almost completely straight... No matter. She could deal with that later.

Pinkie ripped open the curtains, only to reveal a starry sky. She’d slept all through the day?! Were the twins alright? They had to be alright... A foal’s cry pierced the night’s peace. Tensing up, she galloped into the other room, heart beating fast. “Pound? Pumpkin?!”

The pink pony burst into the room, eyes wide with horror... only to find the two foals fast asleep. She blinked a few times in confusion, not understanding what was going on. She heard a something move behind her, and whipped around to face the wardrobe. A pink hoof took hold of the handle, and she ripped the door open.

Inside, a vague shape burst forth, smothering Pinkie. She screamed and struggled, feeling feathers and talons and the smouldering glare of mad orange eyes. “My nest! Mine! Mine!” a voice cried. But when she pulled herself free, there was nothing but old clothes and bedsheets covering her. The foals behind her continued sleeping despite the commotion.

“Wh-what’s going on?” she said shakily. “Rarity? Fluttershy? Is that you? This isn’t funny any more...” She hunkered down amongst the scattered fabrics.

“Cuck-oo.” The pink pony leapt up in shock. No, that couldn’t be possible! It was the middle of the night! “Cuck-oo.” Snatching up her firefly lantern from her bedroom, Pinkie made her way downstairs, towards the source of the sound.

She looked out into the darkness of the bakery, tables and chairs cleaned after the day’s business. The lantern cast its pathetic illumination into the shadows, revealing nothing. “Cuck-oo.” The mare gritted her teeth, peering into darkness. Behind her, the door to the street outside swung back and forth on the latch.

Everywhere she looked; there was the hint of a feather, the outline of a beak, an orange glimmer. But nothing appeared when the light shone upon it. No cuckoo, and certainly no... not-Pinkie. “Cuck-oo” And now from the kitchen. She made her way cautiously inside, seeing nothing but pots and baking trays. Nothing.

“Wh-where are you? Come out! I’m n-not scared of you! I... I can laugh at you!” Pinkie exclaimed. But the feel of her now-straight mane brushing against neck reminded her of the bitter lie. There was no laughter here. Not now.

A faint, wooden bump caught her attention behind her. She trotted back out into the bakery, only to see the door now wide open. “Cuck-oo.” Upstairs. And then, a scream from one of the foals.

Pinkie gasped, and ran upstairs. She burst back into the room, and her mouth dropped open in shock. There... there was the not-Pinkie, cradling a terrified Pound Cake in her forehooves. She turned and smiled with her beak, wings opening and shedding long, grey feathers. “Mine,” it whispered.

“No! Not yours!” Pinkie charged forward blindly, tackling the abomination to the floor. She held a struggling body in her hooves. Her eyes opened slowly in apprehension. All she held was a cuckoo, which squirmed and snorted as it tried to flee. Blue eyes narrowed in anger. This... this bird had tormented her, and turned her into a madmare, and tried to hurt Pound and Pumpkin! Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to hurt anypony any more.

The pressure of her hooves increased a little, and a little more. Crack-ack-rack... The struggling ceased, and a relieved, triumphant grin spread across Pinkie’s face, framed by ruler-straight dark pink hair. No more worries. The grey feather and glassy orange eyes were picked up and cast out of the window. Safe.

And yet... if the not-Pinkie had been holding Pound, then why was he fast asleep in his cot? Why was he not on the floor and still crying? And why was Pumpkin now perched atop the cot’s barrier, a triumphant look in her little orange eyes? “Y-you... you! What’s going on... the cuckoos... you...” All of a sudden, Pinkie felt a great fatigue fall on her, staggering her. “No... can’t sleep, gotta... gotta keep you safe...” she mumbled as she collapsed to the floor.

“Signs of chronic exhaustion... verge of a complete nervous breakdown... sure you’ve never seen symptoms before...?”

From her bed, Pinkie heard snatches of conversation between Redheart and her friends. Her ‘friends’. Couldn’t possibly understand that she needed to protect them from that thing... and how would they ever understand? They hadn’t seen what she saw. And how could they understand what she had to do? Even she had hated the plan that had gradually spread its insidious seeds into her head throughout the day as she had pretended to be asleep. At first there had been disgust, self-loathing, but now there was only acceptance. Sometimes you had to take drastic measures. And no matter what happened, she would not break that promise to the Cakes. She would keep their children, their real children, safe.

Trot, trot, trot... That was Twilight, coming up on her round. The patrols were all the same: a nose into the twins’ room, and a look at her, an attempt to rouse her, before another half-hour of peace. From the sounds outside the window, it had long since passed evening. It must once again have been night-time.

The door creaked, and the unicorn walked in. “Pinkie? Pinkie...” A hoof shook her shoulder. “You gonna get up?” She carefully stayed in her pretend sleep. A worried sigh, before the presence withdrew. Pinkie counted off the steps back down the stairs, and swiftly slipped out of bed. The pink pony looked down the hallway, before crossing to the twins’ room. As she expected, both had been put in their cots.

A foal carrier was strapped to her flank. She ignored Pound and picked up the other. There would have been a startled cry, had she not been ready with a small flannel. Pinkie pushed it against the filly’s mouth. “Not a sound,” she hissed. The young pony was placed unceremoniously into the carrier.

Pinkie knew there would be no point in leaving through the ground floor; it was chock full of ponies pretending to care for her. No. Only one way out. She pushed open the window, and pulled herself through, jumping out into the night. The mare held back a cry as she landed heavily, injuring a foreleg. Not a problem, not broken.

With the streets largely empty at night, Pinkie was free to make her way through the town with her illicit cargo, although she kept to quieter alleys nonetheless.

She already knew her plan. Somewhere secluded, somewhere only the birds went. Her frayed mind had already given her the answer: the Everfree Forest. She limped toward the forbidding wood.

Likely by now, she had been discovered missing by her ‘friends’, necessitating a covered approach, lest one of the pegasi find her. Rainbows didn’t belong in the night, yet they had an infuriating habit of chasing after missing ponies regardless. Thorns and branches tangled in her mane and tail as she struggled through the thicket.

By the time she reached the edge of the forest, she could make out faint shapes and noises in the sky. Yes, they were after her. No matter. It’d all be over before they could ruin everything. Pinkie made her way into a clearing a little ways in.

“Cuck-oo.” Yes. Yes. This was exactly the right place. She reached back and cast Pumpkin on the floor, where she stared gormlessly back up at Pinkie.

“You’re not her. You’re not Pumpkin. I know,” Pinkie growled. “I swore I’d keep them safe, and this is exactly what I’m doing. Where is she? Where’s Pumpkin Cake?!” No answer. A little more coercion, then. Her hoof searched around and found a small rock, which she brought up.

“Well? What have you done with her? What are you?! WHAT ARE YOU?!” She took great, deep gasps of breath, not quite believing what she was about to do. “She’s... gone, isn’t she? You took her, and... and got rid of her.” Her face darkened, and a dangerously low tone entered her voice. “You made me break my promise.” The rock raised over her head. “You’ll pay for that.”

Pumpkin’s eyes suddenly filled with warmth. “Pink’ Pie,” she burbled. “Flow-wah!” Pinkie’s gasp, barely audible, escaped her lips. Tears streamed down her face as she realised what she was about to do. The rock dropped to the ground.

“P-Pumpkin... you’re OK.” She reached down and picked up the filly. A sob escaped her lips. “You’re OK!” The pink pony held her charge in a tight hug. Oh, this would take some explaining, but she was so glad that everything could be back to normal! Right now, she had never been more desperate for a party—

“Pumpkin gone.” Pinkie froze. She pulled the foal back, who was now wearing the same mad orange gaze as the not-Pinkie. Terrified blue eyes looked around to see cuckoos perched in every tree, watching. Waiting. “Mine now!” The filly said with some difficulty. “You know much. Too much! You empty now.”

With that, Pinkie collapsed to the floor. She didn’t know how to function any more. Her limbs flopped about, and any attempts to speak just resulted in burbles and dribble. A tiny part of her mind screamed and yelled, desperately trying to communicate with the outside world, but to no avail. And over her stood the filly, every inch of her body covered in cuckoos.

They found her in the dawn light, curled up around the filly. The young pony was quickly checked over, but with no harm done. The same, however, could not be said for the pink pony. She no longer responded; unable to stand or speak, they took her away. Complete nervous breakdown, they said. Tragic. Minds sometimes just cracked like that. Nothing to be done.

To this day, she still sits in the secure wing of Ponyville’s hospital, padded walls surrounding her. Perhaps overkill, as she is still as unresponsive as the day she was found in the forest. Visits from friends and family elicited nothing but the faint sparkle of eyes, maybe the odd tear.

So, the doctors left her by the window. Left her to stare upon the world she was no longer part of, unresponsive. To this day, she still sits and stares, animated only by the cry of a cuckoo.