Close Bonds: Chapter Thirty-One

You entered the hospital. There at the receptionist desk sat a pony who was not Cream. You told them that you were missing work today. What’s your name? Ivan Walczyk. ~₩, '§, Γ… Yeah, that’s you. Yeah.

Not-Cream wanted to know why you were missing today. You told her that you were sick. An injury you said. Yeah, you’re okay. Oh, no, it’s not my eye, haha… Yeah. Just a bruise, I’ll be back tomorrow. Uh-huh. You too…

You left as soon as you could. You didn’t want Lyra to catch you. It’s not that you don’t like her, it’s just… you’re not really in the mood for her right now.

You have other things on your mind.

You completely cold-shouldered Rainbow this morning, and you know it.

You just… didn’t really want to talk. It was Fluttershy’s advice, anyway. She told you to try to avoid confrontation until she could talk to Rainbow.

Yeah, is that why you didn’t eat the pancakes she cooked for you? You could’ve easily avoided confrontation; hell, she didn’t even want to talk about what happened. She wanted to ‘just drop it.’

You know that would’ve never worked, but you could have at least humored her for a bit, until Fluttershy came. You didn’t need to leave immediately.

You just… really needed to get out. That house was making you claustrophobic. It all just seemed to be closing in on you, trapping you…

This whole situation has been just horrible. It’s like everything that could go wrong just… did. All at once. No real warning or anything. It was at least bearable when you and Rainbow were there to support each other, to just hug it out or something when she was mourning her wings or you were feeling guilty about her or Scootaloo.

Heh, sometimes all that frustration would manifest itself as angry sex. You had the ‘honor’ of bathing a moody, cranky Rainbow Dash that one time, and had access to all the bedsheets in the hospital at any given hour. Actual penetration was rare, but a fingering and a blowjob every now and then was quite a delightful stress reliever.

Why couldn’t last night have gone like that? That would have been a much preferable alternative…

You sigh. You know why. You were the one who was angry. You were the one who angrily stomped into the house, throwing a fit and lashing out at anyone you could. You were unreasonably taking your anger out on those around you, those you care for…

You’re used to dealing with Rainbow Dash when she’s upset. It doesn’t take much to tick her off; controlling her has almost become part of your routine. Kissing her on the head, scratching her ears and other things like that are all ploys you use to get her to settle down. You’re usually the calm one. She, on the other hand, really doesn’t get to see this side of you often. She doesn’t know how to react, made evident by what happened last night.

It’s stupid. She freaks out and overreacts on a daily basis, but when you do it, it turns into some kind of catastrophe.

Just to add to it, she’s part of the reason you’re so stressed. You’ve had to provide for her for so long on such meager pay from a job you now feel guilty for even working.

Your trip to the hospital today just reminded you even more. You entered the building, looked to the receptionist desk, and were reminded that you still had your job, and Cream didn’t. Not only that, but one of your best friends no longer had the opportunity to fulfill her lifelong dream, and the most you could do was hug her and tell her that everything has going to be alright. She’s working odd jobs for peanuts, it’s definitely not alright!

You wish you could do something. You’ve always been one to help your friends whenever you could, and never expected anything in return—although, almost anytime you’ve ever asked, they’ve returned the favor. But now? You just can’t help. You’re stretched thin as it is. You adopted a foal, you can’t afford to support Cream financially. And you can’t quit your job either, if you want to keep Scootaloo in Ponyville.

Oh, and about that. How does Scootaloo repay you for your efforts? By going to the hospital and seeing her deadbeat dad. Again. With a half-empty beer bottle in her hoof, nonetheless.

It just kills you inside. You’d done so much to ensure that things went well for Scootaloo from here on out, and there she was risking everything you’d worked for…

And what exactly have you worked so hard for? Everything went to shit anyway. She may still be in Ponyville, but she’s miserable. You’re miserable. Rainbow’s miserable.

You stop walking. You stare down the road leading back to your house.

You walk the other way. You still don’t want to go back right now.

But you told her you’d be back soon…

Yeah, sure. That was a lie, and she knows it.

Ding!

A sing-song voice rings out from a cracked-open doorway in the back of the store. “Just a moment, and I’ll be right with you!”

Your eyes wander around the vast interior of the Carousel Boutique. You’ve always tried to avoid coming inside this place, mostly to avoid the lingering odor of perfumes and being dressed up like a doll. Which leaves this to be one of the few times you’ve actually taken the time to look around.

It’s a lot bigger than it looks from the outside. The ceilings are high, which balances out the cluttered feeling all the racks, ponyquins, and other fashion items give off.

You trot over to the clear-glass counter. A few moments pass before you get bored. You plop your chin onto the counter, groaning as wait.

Something bright catches your eye. You tilt your head a little so you can get a view.

Through the glass barrier, you can see a multitude of different shiny items: hooflets, necklaces, ear piercings, even some shoes. All are studded with an array of different-colored gems, most of them made from a shiny, pure gold or silver plating.

You stare at them for a bit, turning your head to different angles to compensate for your chin still resting on the countertop. You don’t really know why you’re looking. Probably boredom.

Not to say that none of these are nice. All of them are, really. You’ve just never been the ‘jewelry’ type of mare. None of these would really look good on you.

Well, except a few of them, maybe. Like that sapphire one.

You look at the sapphire necklace for a little while. You imagine how it would look on you; it’s a shade of blue just a bit darker than your coat, with a bright gold chain that snaps together at the back of the neck. You think of how well it would accentuate your color, of how nice you would look as the small, ocean-blue jewel swings lightly from your neck to the tune of your hoofsteps.

A little slip of paper accompanies the necklace. You squint a little, attempting to read the tiny print.

Oh, it’s the price.

…

Oh, it wasn’t that nice anyway.

A voice causes you to snap your head up. Rarity trots out of the doorway behind the counter. “Welcome to the Carousel Boutique, where everything is chique, unique, and magnifique!” Even after seeing it’s you, she completes her little jingle.

You give her a dry look. “Rarity, you don’t need to do that, it’s just me.”

“Well, it’s not just you, Rainbow Dash. It’s you.” You give her another deadpan stare. She sees it, but seems to ignore it. “So, darling, what can I do for you? Would you like a new outfit? I was just thinking about a design the other day that I believe would look wonderful on you!”

Oh, brother. “Uh, well, I just got done with my workout, so I didn’t bring any bits—”

“Oh, not to worry about that. After all, you’re my friend, and I’m the Element of Generosity.”

“Well, okay then. As long as you’re offering…” You tap the glass directly above the sapphire necklace. Rarity looks to where you’re gesturing to, and her eye twitches.

“Ha ha. Not that generous,” she clarifies.

You roll your eyes, hiding a smirk. “Well, it was worth a try.”

“I suppose. Would you like to take this into the back room? I was working on something rather important when you came in.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure! That’s cool.”

You round the counter and follow Rarity further into her shop… err, house. House-shop. Shophouse. You wonder if that’s a word. Twilight would know, she’s a nerd.

You pass through her shophouse, glancing around at the rooms the two of you pass through. Rarity has a lot less furniture than you’d remembered. Still, you get a sense of deja-vu from all the pink- and purple-themed carpet, chairs, drapes… just about everything is pink or purple. Or white. There are some white tiles, some white walls…

You finally reach your destination: her work room. You shudder. You used to call this space ‘the torture chamber,’ and with good reason; this is where Rarity used to bring you when she wanted you to ‘test new outfits.’

There’s no guarantee she won’t still do so… You gulp at the thought, suppressing the urge to hop out the nearest window.

“Here we are, my newest work,” Rarity says, gesturing to an unfinished dress that you, frankly, couldn’t care less about. “I don’t suppose you’d like to take it on a test run, now, would you?”

Oh, yeah. You care now.

The fashionista notices you backing up towards the exit, and lets out a ladylike chuckle. “Oh, don’t worry, dearie. I know how much you detest trying on new outfits... for whatever reason,” she adds onto the end. “You liked the last outfit I made for you, didn’t you? The one I’m supposing you wore in Canterlot?”

It takes you a second to recall. When that night comes to mind, as well as all the details—Ivan’s reaction to seeing you in the dress, the dinner date, the dance, and the more… adult parts of the evening—you blush, timidly rubbing your foreleg.

You clear your throat before Miss Gossip Mare gets any ideas. “Well, I don’t really like dresses or hairclips or any of that fancy fru-fru stuff… But, uh, Ivan liked it. So there’s that.”

Her attention seems to only be partially on you now as she rifles through drawers. “Did he, now? Well, I’m glad that the effort was worth it. It was awfully difficult to sneak a whole dress into the hospital without alerting your coltfriend; it was all I could do to refrain from darting from room to room like some kind of spy.”

You almost roll your eyes at how dramatic she makes it sound. “Yeah, well, thanks for that.” A thought pops into your head at the reminder of the dress. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Anything, darling.”

“Is there anything specific I should know about washing that thing?”

“Oh?” The unicorn continues doing whatever it is she’s doing with her clothes stuff, but pauses for a moment to flash you a devious smirk. “You didn’t soil it in any way, did you?”

You don’t like this. “I was just asking because it just seems so… delicate. And it doesn’t feel like any of my workout clothes. I was afraid I might ruin it or something.”

“Oh. Well, a mere dab of spit oftentimes removes even the toughest of stains.” You notice a faint playfulness in her tone as she says this.

You raise an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“So, you’re telling me to just lick it? Is this a joke?”

“Well, it’s the same advice I gave to your coltfriend at one time, in regard to a certain pair of jeans with a certain kind of stain in them.” There’s a twinkle in her eye. “He exhibited a similar reaction to yours.”

She’s referring to something, you just know it. You rack your brain, trying to figure out which jeans and what stain—

“Oh. Oh, fuck, Rarity.” You bring a hoof to your forehead.

She titters lightly behind a hoof. “Language, dear.”

“Alright, I’m outta here,” you declare, turning to exit the room.

“Oh, don’t be like that! You know I kid!” The door is encased in a purple aura, and quickly swings shut.

You sigh, attempting to turn the doorknob. You hear a click, and realize that it’s locked.

“Rarity…” you growl.

“Come on, darling, don’t leave just yet! At least tell me how your trip went.”

“It was fun. Lemme go now.” Grunting, you tug on the door again.

“You have to unlock it first. And details, darling, details! Where did he take you? Was it fancy? Romantic? Did you swooooon for him~?”

“We went to a restaurant, a park, and a bar.” You unlock the door, but find that it’s still being firmly held shut. You wrench back on it. “Let… go… Rarity!”

“It’s getting rather… hard… to hold you here…” she says between clenched teeth.

After a minute or so you have the door partway open, but your already-fatigued muscles let you know that you’re not gonna win if this goes on much longer. Finally, you give in, letting go of the knob. “Fine! You win! Whatever the fuck you want, you got it!”

The door slams shut, vibrations and sound reverberating around the room. Rarity, not expecting the sudden change in force, lands unceremoniously on her chin, rear end sticking high into the air.

“Well!” She snorts, dusting herself off. “I should think that you would at least humor me in this sense, considering I stitched together a complimentary dress for you at a moment’s notice.”

“Well, thanks for the compliments, but if you want humor then go to Pinkie Pie.”

She gives you a look. She thinks you really meant that, doesn’t she?

You shoot one back. “What?”

“Oh, nevermind.” She shakes her head. “So, you two went to a restaurant, correct? What restaurant was it?”

“It was… Um…” You rub your chin thoughtfully. “Uh, I don’t remember the name, but it was a really fancy place…”

“Oh, well that at least narrows it down to all of Canterlot. Care to be more specific?”

“I’m trying, okay?! It was about stairs or something.”

“A restaurant having to do with stairs...”

“Oh! Oh! I just remembered! That Fancy Pants dude owned it!”

At this, Rarity seems to explode. “You went to a restaurant owned by Fancy Pants?! How was it? It was wonderful, wasn’t it?!”

“It was a freaking restaurant, Rarity, not the culmination of my entire life.” You look off to the side. “Although, it wasn’t too shabby, if I say so myself.”

“And what was it you said the name was? Something about…?”

“Stairs, I think?”

She thinks for a moment. Then, a deadpan stare. “The Steppes, you mean?”

“Yeah! Steps!”

“Steppes, with ‘Lß’ at the end.”

“Oh yeah, totally makes a difference.”

She pinches the bridge of her snout. “I could argue with you, but then I would be assuming Twilight’s role.” She takes a moment to reorganize her thoughts. “Okay, then what next? You mentioned a park earlier, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah!” You can’t help but get excited at this. “We went to this really cool park after eating dinner, where they brought excess weather factory clouds and put them on the ground! It was super cool!” You chuckle at a certain memory. “Ivan almost broke his ass when he tried to jump into a big cloud. Guess he forgot he wasn’t a pegasus. Funny as hell.”

“We’ve all known him to be a bit silly at times,” she concurs. The two of you giggle, likely at different memories, but of the same person nonetheless. “Anything else?”

“Well, we went to a bar.”

The pristine unicorn rolls her eyes playfully. “Knowing you, that doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

“Hey! It was his idea!” You harrumph, folding your forelegs. “Besides, it wasn’t like we just drank and rutted or something. There was a dance floor.”

“You two danced?”

“No, Rarity, I brought up the dance floor for no fucking reason,” you deadpan. “What do you think?”

She frowns. “No need to be so crass, Rainbow Dash. And I was just skeptical because I’m having trouble imagining Ivan dancing on all fours…”

You shake your head. “No, I, uh… It was pretty cool, actually. He showed me how humans dance.”

Rarity cocks her head. “Oh? I’m curious now.”

You smirk. “What, you weren’t curious when you trapped me inside your house…?”

“Oh, hush and continue the story.”

“Well, I mean, I don’t really do the whole formal dancing thing, but… it was kind of like how some ponies dance on two legs, except we weren’t leaning on each other. It was just me leaning on him.”

“Mm-hm.”

“And I was having trouble standing, and he kept having to hold me up. Because I wasn’t used to that and all.”

Totally not because you were drunk as hell.

You continue. “And then it got really, really intimate when he…” You’re interrupted by the sound of Rarity’s giggling. Your cheeks feel as if they’ve gone ablaze as you suddenly realize that you’re saying all this mushy stuff out loud.

“Oh, I’m sorry, darling.” She covers her mouth while she snickers. “Do go on.”

“No. You know the rest.”

“Oh, come on, Rainbow Dash, I was only surprised. I never get the chance to hear you gush like this—”

“Then ya better savor it, ‘cause this is the last time.” You turn the other way, folding your forelegs tightly against your chest.

“Fine, fine.” A snort, and then a light sigh. “I’m sorry, I should not have laughed. I promise not to pry anymore. About that, at least,” she quickly adds.

“Hmph.”

“So, what about the next day? From what I heard, the two of you were gone for three days.”

At this, your eyes suddenly find the floor very interesting. You face her again. “Well, not quite… And Ivan had some kind of business with Celestia most of the time.”

“Oh? And how did he react to that?” She titters. “Nothing particularly bad happened, I hope.”

You sigh. You’re not going to tell her exactly what it happened, or why, but... “He wasn’t too happy. When he told me, it put a load on both of our minds…”

A silence passes. The ruffling sounds Rarity is making with her dress stop.

“Was it a bad first impression, or…?”

What? “What? No. At least, I don’t think so. I was talking about—” You pause for a moment, rearranging your thoughts. “Okay, okay. What?”

“I wanted to know how Ivan reacted to meeting a princess for the first time.”

“Oh…”

A long silence passes. From the sound of it, Rarity goes back to her dressmaking.

“Listen, Rarity.” She doesn’t respond, just continuing to work. “I think I’m going to go.”

She turns her head slightly, watching you out of the corner of her eye. “Oh? Did I do something to offend you?”

This takes you aback a little. That was… rather direct. “Uh, no, I just… Ivan’s waiting for me. I should really be getting home.”

“Hmph.” She hums thoughtfully. “Well, if you insist. Before you leave, though, may I ask a favor of you?”

You really hate it when ponies do that. “What favor?”

“Could you try something on for me?” As soon as she sees the eye roll, she quickly clarifies. “Just a necklace. And maybe a few hairclips, if you have the time.”

Two sides of your mind argue with one another. On the one hoof, you kind of want to get out of here. You’re uncomfortable, and have a bad feeling that this pony’s trying to get something out of you. If that’s the case, she probably will; even if begrudgingly, you have to admit that she’s a bit more clever than you are. She’s a wily mare.

On the other hoof, you don’t exactly know what you’ll do with yourself even if you manage to get away. You’re a bit tired from your workout, and even though you think you could go for a little bit longer, it’s probably not a good idea. You’ve overtrained many times before, so you don’t really want to have to deal with that along with what’s already on your plate. Especially since you’re not expected massages from Ivan anytime soon…

Ugh. Might as well go with whatever Rarity’s doing. “Sure, sure. Just make it snappy.”

“Will do! Be a dear and come sit in front of the mirror for me, will you?”

You trot over and sit down in front of the large full-body mirror she has by the wall. Once there, you look yourself up and down. Toned flanks, not too big but not too small; just right, you think. At least, you’ve never gotten any complaints from Ivan: quite the opposite, actually. A sleek build, you’ve always been on the petite side, so you suppose that works to your advantage. The only part you think you can truly call yourself really well-built is your back. Years of working on your flying, working up to feats most ponies could onlydream of…

You turn a little bit to get a better look. Your wrapped wing only serves to remind you that you’re probably way out of shape in that area. Still, you can still see the lines the muscles make underneath your skin. You open up your good wing, giving a few light flaps just to watch your fur move and ripple with the flesh underneath.

You get a small bit of satisfaction out of this. Even if all that work you put in didn’t help you to accomplish your dreams, you still have these impressive guns to show off.

You’re in the middle of showing off your neck to the mirror when you feel a necklace slip around it. White beads, the generic definition of jewelry, find their place on you as white hooves click a button into place on the back of your neck.

“There we go… Wouldn’t you say they look nice on you, Darling?”

You stare at the necklace. The thought occurs to you that not that long ago, you completely despised the thought of any type of this girly nonsense, yet here you are actually considering…

“Eh. It’s okay, I guess. I don’t think it goes with my hair.”

“Oh?” Rarity inquires, “Why don’t you think so?”

“I think I look a little too… tomcoltish. Fake pearls just aren’t my style.”

Rarity mumbles something about ‘fake pearls my flanks’ before re-addressing you. “Actually, Miss Contrary, I think it’s because you’ve let your mane grow out as of late.”

You make to argue, but another look in the mirror tells you she’s right. Hell, you knew she was right before you even took your next blink. You started growing it out ever since Ivan told you he thought long hair was sexy.

Just another thing you wouldn’t have even thought of doing a year ago. Has he been changing you?

No, he hasn’t. He hasn’t done anything to change you. A better question to ask would be, have you been changing for him?

“I could cut it if you’d like.”

The offer surprises you. Rarity used to always make comments about your hair not being stylish enough, that it was too short, that those beautiful colors you had were all wasted potential.

Rarity shrugs. “Personally, I think you look fine either way, but I find that changing up your looks every now and then is usually refreshing. Plus, it will put things in perspective; if you like your hair longer, just grow it out again. Trim it every now and then to keep it healthy. If not, then that’s just as well. You can come back to me just about anytime you wish, as long as I’m not too busy.”

You don’t seem to recall Rarity ever changing up her looks. Still, what she’s saying makes sense. It’s just hair. It’ll grow back.

“Alright.”

You barely even have time to blink before a pair of scissors can be seen in the mirror. Magic straightens out sections of your hair as the scissors go down the line, cutting off strips that hover in the air for a bit before making dives to the trashbin.

The hair at the front of your head, which you’d gotten into the habit of parting and brushing back with the rest of your mane, is once more reduced to bangs that hang loosely over your forehead.

“Just a few finishing touches,” Rarity says as she makes some small clippings around different parts of your mane, evening it out. She dampens your hair a bit with a spray bottle before running a comb through it, then stands back to admire her work.

“There!” she exclaims with a smile. “How do you like it?”

For the umpteenth time today, you find yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror. You tilt your head, watching your mane fall in ways different than what you’re accustomed to.

Rarity did a good job. She made it look the way it did before you grew it out, except for a few personal touches: a bit less messy in the front, and a little longer in the back. Combined with the pearl, it honestly looks rather nice.

“It’s… alright.”

“Oh! Just one more thing!” She darts off, quickly returning with a small white hairclip. “To complete the look.”

This is where you’re going to have to disagree with her. However, you don’t voice your thoughts, simply choosing to take in the view.

“You look absolutely adorable!” she gushes. “I did something similar with Applejack just the other day, and was curious as to how it would work with you. I swear, the two of you are so much alike…”

“Adorable, huh?” You begin fiddling with the hairclip. “Alright, so how do I get this thing out?”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Rainbow Dash. I’m sure Ivan would agree with me wholeheartedly. And while I have to say that you’ve always been one for the more ‘natural’ look, especially with this manestyle, I can’t help but feel that there is some outfit somewhere that would compliment you nicely.” Rarity rubs her chin, most likely pondering the answer to that thought. “Could you hold on for a little while longer? Or does your lover beckon you?”

“He can wait.”

“Mm, that’s good,” she absentmindedly replies while trotting over to a rack. This rack in particular seems to have a random assortment of different articles of clothing on it.

Out from amidst the whirlwind of clothes comes a white hoodie jacket. Little faint yellow lines accent the edge of the hood and the sleeves.

“Didn’t know you made casual clothes like these, Rarity.”

The hoodie is levitated over to you. You take it and slip it on while she speaks.

“Well, it’s true that I don’t do this type often. But a true fashionista must be able to adapt to all types of outfits.” She lets out a sigh. “Plus, somepony custom ordered this one and never picked it up.”

You pull the jacket over your head, slipping each wing into the slits on the sides. You take a good look at it in the mirror.

“Huh. I like it, but…” You tap on the beaded necklace.

“Oh! You’re right, of course. That just looks off.” With a soft click, the necklace is undone, and floats off to somewhere you don’t know.

Taking a second look at your reflection again, you smile. You look like a tomcolt again. The jacket, the short mane, even the hairclip.

“You can take it all home; the hairclips are a bit a dozen, and I haven’t been able to sell that jacket in weeks.” Rarity flutters her eyelashes to accentuate her next bit: “Plus, I’m sure you’ll want to show off your new outfit to your colt. I’m sure he’ll be floored...”

This is like the fifth time she’s mentioned him. What the hay?

“Speaking of which, I have some lingerie I can loan to you that I’m sure he’ll love—”

You suddenly wheel on her. “Seriously, Rarity? What’s up with you today?”

She blinks in confusion. “Whatsoever do you mean, Rainbow Da—”

“You’ve mentioned Ivan like, a million times today. Why do you keep bringing him up?”

“I just thought that you might have somepony special in mind when you—”

“Do you think I’m looking nice for him? Do you think I’ve been sitting in here, trying on clothes and necklaces and all this shit for him?”

“Well, you only ever started getting worried about your looks when the two of you began living together!”

“Let me make something clear, Rarity.” You take a step towards the alabaster unicorn. “My life does not revolve around him, okay? I’m not changing for him, and if he doesn’t like it, well… he’s just gonna have to put up with it.”

You stomp your hoof to emphasize your point. “And that’s that.”

Rarity gives you a concerned look.

Somehow, it just serves to irritate you further.

“What?” You give her your most intimidating scowl. “The hell you looking at me like that?”

She just keeps making that annoying face at you. “Is… everything alright, Darling?”

“Whether everything is alright or not is none of your business.”

“It most certainly is,” she says with a hint of aggressiveness in her voice, “because I’m your friend. I’m only concerned for you. After all, you’ve been acting a bit tense ever since I asked about your date.”

“Thanks for your concern,” you say sarcastically. “However, I think I can handle my own problems.”

“...Remember what I said about you and Applejack being alike?”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?!”

“Nothing,” she sighs. “But darling, I don’t understand. Just a few weeks ago you were asking for a new dress, and now you seem to be completely against the notion of—”

“I know, I know! I don’t care about that, it’s just—” You shake your head. “Ugh, I just don’t think I should have to change a fundamental part of myself just to make that whiner happy, alright?”

The alabaster unicorn puts on a confused look. “But Rainbow Dash, it’s only hair—”

You jab a hoof at her. “And I know what you’ve been doing this whole time! You think you’re so smart, asking me these stupid little questions, prodding and pushing and trying to get me to spill it!” You cross your hooves over your chest. “Well, you ain’t gettin’ nothin’ outta me!”

“You’re being overdramatic, Rainbow Dash.”

“Admit it!” You point accusingly at her. “You’ve been trying to make me talk this whole time, just so you have some juicy gossip you can share with all your stupid Canterlot friends! Isn’t that right?!”

She frowns, looking a bit dismayed at your accusations. “On the contrary, I really am just trying to help you. In fact, I’m a little hurt that you don’t trust me.”

“It’s a fucking yes or no question, Rarity.”

“Please, if you would just settle down—”

“If I get told one more time to calm down…” You’re positively fuming at this point. It takes you a moment to realize you’re grinding your teeth.

You take a deep breath. It does little to quell the barely-contained fire within you, but at least it makes you appear calmer. “You know what? I’ll show you what settling down is.” You walk to the door and calmly open it. “See this? This is called self-control. I’m leaving before somepony loses a pretty white tooth.”

At this, you step out of the room and slam it shut behind you. Rarity doesn’t attempt to stop you this time.

Poke.

Poke poke.

“Ivan? Ya ‘wake?”

Your cheek is poked a few more times. You swat at a small hoof by your face, and are surprised that you actually managed to hit it with your eyes shut.

“Ah’d let ya sleep here, but I dunno if Applejack would get mad. She always gets mad at Rainbow Dash fer sleepin’ in the trees...”

Your eyes pop open. Standing over you is a little yellow filly, gazing down at you with a curious look.

You yawn, stretching your arms as you do so. You feel your back rub a tree trunk through your shirt.

You scratch the side of your head. “Dang… Didn’t think I’d fall asleep. What time is it?”

Apple Bloom looks up into the sky. “Uh… Late afternoon?”

“Don’t stare at the sun like that. It’s not good for your eyes.”

She gives you something between a blank stare and a confused expression. “What?”

“Nothing.” You’d forgotten about the whole ‘redirecting harmful rays’ lesson Twilight gave you. Ponies probably look directly into the sun all the time.

“Ya look tired. Ya gettin’ enough sleep, Ivan?”

You blink a few times, finding that your eyes have gotten a little crusty during your midday nap. “I… had a bit of a long night last night.”

“A good kind’a long night or a bad one?”

“Bad.”

“Oh.” She looks at the ground for a moment, then returns her gaze to you. “Ya wanna talk about it?”

You chuckle. “Seems like I’ve been doing a lot of that recently.” You give the small filly a teasing look. “But, you know, maybe Dr. Apple Bloom has some kind of magical mystery cure that’ll solve everything for me, huh?”

She giggles, sitting down beside you and leaning back against the tree as well. “Well, the girls an’ Ah tried gettin’ our cutie marks in psy—psycha—psykek—” She turns to you in exasperation. “Can ya help me out here?”

You put your hands up in self-defense. “Hey, I’m not the professional here.”

“Gosh darn it Ivan! Well, the point is, our cutie marks weren’t in bein’ psychochiatrists.”

“Yeah, that’s honestly pretty obvious.” When you see the angry pout Apple Bloom gives you, you ‘clarify,’ “I mean, you would’ve had your cutie marks by now otherwise, right?”

“Yer mean, ya know that?”

You reach over and begin mussing up her mane. “Nah, it’s called being playful. There’s a difference.”

She swats your hand with a hoof. “Nah, yer jus’ plain mean. Is this why you and Rainbow’s always fightin’?”

That statement stops you. You quietly fold your hands up on your lap, softly sighing through your nose as you turn your attention to the blue sky.

“Well, I dunno if it’s that. I don’t think so. I’m really not sure what causes it, to be honest.”

“Hmm…” she hums thoughtfully at your side. “Ya tried talkin’ to her, right?”

Your sarcasm is put aside for the fact that this is a young filly you’re talking to. “Yeah, I did.”

“Oh. ‘Cause whenever Applejack or Granny Smith or Big Mac gets mad at me, they yell at me and I hide in my room.”

You manage to suppress a snort. “I would imagine.”

“And then I get mad at them for yellin’ at me. And then we’re all mad at each other, and if it’s Applejack we’ll probably be steamin’ over it for a lil while, all day maybe. But sooner or later, we got chores to do, and we hafta work together or else none of it gon’ get done.”

You hum to yourself, thinking over what she says.

“Well, sure, over small arguments, maybe.”

“Oh believe me, me an’ Applejack get into some BIG ones. When ya see that vein in her neck turn redder ‘n Big Mac, ya just know…”

This brings another smile to your face. “Heh, I think I know. I worked under her, remember?”

“An’ I live with her, remember?”

God, you love this filly. “Still,” you start to bring the topic back on track, “maybe sister relationships are different or something. I dunno. I just wish it was that simple. Just talk to her…”

“Didja try doin’ somethin’ for her? Sometimes Granny’ll let me eat sweet ‘taters for dinner, or Applejack’ll make a big ol’ pie…”

Or pancakes, maybe?

“Eh, somethin’ like that…”

Apple Bloom shrugs. “Welp, Ah’m all outta ideas then. Also, Ah gotta get back ta work on the barn. We’re cleanin’ it out, and AJ said I get a half hour’s break.”

“How long has it been?”

She rises to her hooves, dusting herself off. “Dunno. If she yells at me, I know Ah’m late.”

Another chuckle comes forth, but this time you don’t stifle it. “Well, I’ll let you go then. Have fun with your barn.”

She gives you a look. “Seriously? Have fun with yer barn?” She shakes her head. “Jus’ don’t let AJ see you sittin’ there, ‘kay?”

Without waiting for an answer, she darts off, once again leaving you to your own thoughts.

“Well, we’re finally finished!” Cream proclaims. Each of you takes a step back to admire your work.

On the wall before you is a painting. Your painting. Your beautiful painting of a beach with a palm tree.

“That’s awesome,” you say quietly.

“You see why I do this?” In response to her question, you nod. “And just think,” she goes on to say, “foals are going to pass by this same painting every day. They’ll see it, and it’ll soon become a part of their daily lives. They’ll wonder at it, trying to imagine who painted it, what we were thinking when we created it. They’ll think up stories for it, they’ll picture themselves inside this… well, picture.”

You giggle. “You really think all that’s going to happen?”

She wiggles her brow playfully, then ruffles your hair. “I’d like to think so. Why, weren’t you a mini picture connoisseur when you were little?”

You swat her hoof away. “No way, I didn’t care about that stuff. I was into skating, and scooters. Extreme stuff, y’know?”

“Really?” She gives you a skeptical look, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “So, there are no pictures or anything that you remember from when you were younger?”

You look to the side, tilting your head a little as something comes to mind. “Well, there is one, I guess…”

“Can you tell me what it looked like?”

“Well, it was a painting of my older sister, Lyla. It wasn’t very good, but I was still always jealous because my mom made it for her and she never made one of me.” You smile. “I don’t really mind anymore. It’s actually kind of funny to remember how mad I got over it.”

“See?”

“See what?”

“You have a special picture that you remember from your childhood. Chances are, you’re gonna remember that forever.” She gestures to the painting in front of you. “See this? I’ll bet’cha any amount of bits that some foal’s gonna see this, and it’ll stick with ‘em for the rest of their life.”

“Hmm.” You put on a thoughtful face. “Maybe…”

Cream appears happy to have gotten through to you.

“...not.”

“You’re hopeless,” Cream groans, pushing you. You laugh and push her back, causing her to kick a can of paint over.

“Aw shi—” She manages to stop herself just before it comes out. “—p.”

“Good thing the lid was on, right?”

She looks down, and upon seeing the still paintless floor, sighs in relief. “Yes. Yes, very good. I don’t want to spend bits on another can of paint.”

“Another?”

A grim look falls over her face. “Yes. Don’t ask.”

You keep silent at this.

You help her pack up her things, and then the two of you chat it up as you head for the exit.

“Hold on, Scoots,” she says when the two of you enter the reception room. “I need to collect my check.”

“‘Kay,” you say, hopping up on one of the seats. You sit there for a moment, twiddling your hooves and looking out the windows while you wait.

Looking out one of the windows to the side of the building. Something catches your eye.

Oh, crap. It’s Ivan again!

At least, that’s what you think initially. You make to duck, but there’s a residing feeling in your gut that just tells you that something’s… peculiar.

You peek with over the windowsill. Sure enough, off in the distance stands a lone human.

...He looks a little taller, though. Ivan’s really tall in the first place, so maybe you’re just seeing things, but…

You don’t remember him having that much hair on his face, either. You saw him just this morning, didn’t you?

His clothes, too. They’re ripped, holes all over the place. Is he okay? Did something happen to him?

“Cream?”

“Just a second, Scoots,”

“Cream, I uh, really need to get outside.”

“I’m just signing a few things, I’ll be back in a second.”

“I… I…” Your hoof taps the ground rapidly. “I really need to go!”

Without waiting for an answer, you dart outside. You’re guessing that Cream’s worried about you now, but you can explain later. This is important. Something’s off. Something’s really off.

You dash towards the figure, your hooves making muffled smacks against the grass. You nearly stop when the figure suddenly turns on you.

You slow to a reluctant walk. “I—Ivan?” you ask, timidly.

A clear look at the creature’s face tells you that this definitely isn’t Ivan. This one is dirty, smelly. It has a lot more facial hair than Ivan has, and both the hair on his face and his mane are a pitch black instead of light brown like Ivan’s.

Two eyes. Two wild, dark brown eyes. Neither of them are faded.

“Y—You’re not Ivan…”

Those eyes suddenly widen, as if it is astounded by those few words. A pale hand rises, a single digit directed towards you. Its whole long, gangly body begins to shake. You take a step back.

Out comes a raspy voice: “What did you just say?”

Your heart leaps into your chest. He talked! You hadn’t expected that.

So, now you know for sure. He must be another human.

“Scootaloo!” Cream calls out from behind you. You look back to see Cream dancing nervously on the edges of her hooves, frantically gesturing for you to return to her.

“You… You know…” You turn your head in time to see the human begin coughing. Doubled over, he’s still taller than you. He soon rises to his full height again, standing intimidatingly over you.

He clears his throat. It comes at a bit clearer this time. “Did you just say Ivan?”

His voice is deep and sharp. This should be scaring you, but the implications of his words are almost enough to completely smother the fear. He’s asking for Ivan. He must know Ivan!

Your heart thrums loudly in your ears. “Uh… y—yeah. He lives here. In Ponyville.”

His breathing hitches. He stares at you for what feels like an eternity.

“He’s… alive?”

The human approaches you. Every step closer makes him seem larger, until he’s just a foreleg’s distance away from you.

He towers over you like a skyscraper. Yet, you stand your ground.

You hear Cream calling for help. You pay no mind. Your eyes are locked onto this giant, and in turn his full attention is on you.

“He… There’s just no way. He’s been here, all this time?”

This close, you’re beginning to notice things. Aside from the fact that he’s human, he looks astonishingly like Ivan. An older version.

“Yeah. Do you, um… wanna see him?”

He just stands there, unmoving. Staring down at you. You nervously rub your foreleg, struggling to keep eye contact.

“Uh, my name is Scootaloo,” you introduce yourself, thrusting out a hoof towards him. “What’s yours?”

He just gazes at your outstretched hoof for a few moments. Then, slowly, he reaches out with his hand, grasping your hoof lightly and giving it a ginger shake.

You hear what sounds like a crowd gathering behind you. Ponies talking, gesticulating, occasionally even yelling. The multitude of voices grows, but the whole crowd combined does absolutely nothing to drown out the human’s next words.

“Clayton. Clayton Walczyk.”

Author's Note

Hah, I thought I was gonna get this out earlier since it's summer vacation for me. Unfortunately, it's been more like "what summer vacation?"

I recently hit 200 followers! Doing an AMA, send me questions and I'll answer them in a blog post tomorrow!

Also, if there was anything in there that looks like it may be a joke, such as "Fluttershy is a great cunt" then please let me know. My proofreader recently found out how to edit the doc without permission.

Credit goes to Anonymous Nyan Cat for proofreading!