Shylock

by Whirring Gears

Rating: teen
Tags: Sad, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Second Person, Dark, Romance, Fluttershy
Length: 13089

[2nd POV] After getting abandoned in the forest, you wind up at a kind animal caretaker's house. However, you soon aren't the only thing that winds up there...

[Second Person Perspective]

Struggling to keep your apartment, you had taken an offer of a loan from somepony who, in exchange, asked for some help in a little 'family business' as they described it. If only you knew what this business actually was. This is how you became the whippingcolt for one of the most nefarious groups in Manehattan.

You are scum. You are less than scum. That is what you are reminded of each and every day.

One day, you get left for dead in the woods. You wake up in a little cottage full of animals with your wound cleaned, your vest patched, and a light yellow mare called Fluttershy taking care of you. The first pony who had ever shown you kindness. Without any hesitation, she's willing to provide you with food, warmth, and shelter. It seems too good to be true.

All too soon, your miserable life quickly catches back up to you and threatens to drag Fluttershy down as well. What would you do and how far would you go for the timid pegasus who found you?

Art by Azenge.

Published 2013-03-06 08:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-16 04:15:58 UTC

Chapter 1: A Trip to the Hospital

“Damn it! They’re right on our tail!”

“They must have been waiting for us after we left!”

“We can’t keep dragging this guy around with us. We have to ditch him.”

“What if they find him?”

“We didn’t do this to him. Not our problem.”

“The boss isn’t going to like this...”

“It’s one messenger. Big deal. Boss didn’t even like this guy that much, anyway.”

“...Alright. We’ll toss him over there.”

“Sorry, buddy. You’re timberwolf food now.”

“Hurry up! We don’t have much time!”

“Okay. Now let’s get out of here!”

~~~~~

You slowly open your eyes, a little disappointed that you could. Light stings your retinas, making you fight to keep your eyelids open as the rest of your body begins to come to life as well. An aching feeling seems to have spread everywhere, from your neck all the way down to the ends of your hooves. In the middle of your stomach is the worst where the pain feels like a cold, yet burning sensation.

More senses start to kick into motion as you begin to feel what you’re laying on. Something soft, like a bed, but the wall of the same material you feel against your side tells you that you’re probably on a sofa of some sort. Your head is on a plush down pillow and there is a light but warm blanket coming up to your midsection.

Struggling to lift your head to take in your surroundings, you realize your body is not quite up to speed for that at the moment. Letting a small grunt through your nose, you instead let your head fall to the side to see where you are. The sight you are greeted with is interesting to say the least.

The room is normal enough with all wood floors and walls with a pink rug laying in front of you. However, there are small animals running around all over the place. Birds fly through the air to different houses and feeders near the ceiling. Some of them stop to give a quick glance at you before returning to their own business, except for one small white rabbit. He’s been looking at you since you started moving. His expression shows that he’s not at all sure what to think of you at the moment. Before you can raise an eyebrow at him, he hops away into the other room.

Man, even your apartment doesn’t have this bad of an infestation problem.

As more feeling returns, you notice something around your midsection. Your hooves to your sides can feel something there as well. You’re barely able to lift your hooves enough to look underneath the blanket. Sure enough, it seems that your torso has been bandaged up. Quite expertly, if you may say so. They even had the care to leave your wings unconstricted. While it looks rather thick, you can see some faint traces of red through it.

“Are you awake?” you hear somepony ask. Their voice is very quiet and meek.

You turn your head as you try to sit up once again.

“Oh no, please don’t!” they suddenly say, putting a hoof against your chest to keep you from getting up. “Please don’t exert yourself. You, um... you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Blood? What?

Before your mind comprehends what was said, you get a good look at the pony talking to you. They’re a light yellow mare with soft blue eyes and a long flowing pink mane. They’re looking at you with a good amount of worry.

“You need to conserve your strength,” she says. “So, um, try not to move, if that’s alright.” As she talks, you can’t help but stare at her mane. Such an amount of hair all seemingly clean, brushed, and well kept. It descends down like a silk curtain around her face, playfully dangling down her forelegs before sweeping back up in a small curl. It nearly glows in the light from outside. It’s nearly awe-inspiring.

That reminds you. Against the wishes of the pony beside you, you begin to lift a hoof upwards.

“Oh dear, um, please stop. Please?” she asks, but you continue.

Slowly pulling it up towards your body, you let your hoof come to rest on top of your own head. You feel back and forth within it, assessing the damage to your own hair. Knots are everywhere and you feel multiple small foreign things within it. Probably dirt or something else. Oh, your poor mane... It’s one of the few things you can take comfort in and now it’s all a mess. You’ll probably have to skip a meal or two to afford the water and soap necessary to get it clean again. Letting out a low, disappointed groan, you let your hoof fall back to your side.

“Does your head hurt?” the mare asks. She leans up and places a hoof on your forehead. Her touch is gentle as you feel a tiny bit of weight pressing down from it. As she’s feeling your forehead, you can see down the length of her body. It appears that she is a pegasus, like you. Three pink and blue butterflies as her cutie mark. “You don’t feel too warm... That’s good. It means you don’t have an infection,” she says, taking her hoof back.

“Are you still sore?” she asks. “You probably had quite the accident considering where, um... you were found.”

Everything is still such a blur at the moment. You try to focus long enough to remember how you got here or why you hurt so much. You turn your head back towards the ceiling, but various pains in your head and neck cause you to let out another small grunt while doing so.

“Oh dear...” you hear her say. “I’ll go get you some medicine. It should help with the pain.”

She turns and walks away into the other room as you lay there to ponder the many questions on your mind. The immediate questions are ‘Where are you?’ and ‘Who is that mare?’ Unfortunately, you have no way to answer those questions at the moment. The next question would be ‘How did you get here?’

You close your eyes as you think back to the last thing you can remember.

You were in your apartment. Afraid to leave, as usual. There was something different about the fear, though. Something specific. You were afraid of something rather than just general fear. Was it an assignment? Must have been.

Okay, so it was an assignment that you were afraid of. That doesn’t narrow it down. One you must have known ahead of time. It must have been a delivery of some sort, that’s all you do. What did you have to deliver? Was it heavy? How big was the package?

You couldn’t remember. No such weight seemed familiar in your head. Unless... was there a package?

No, there wasn’t. It was a message you were delivering.

What was the message? Your boss must have told you. You think back to your last meeting with him. He seemed pleased with himself. You remember him chuckling. He said something about refusing something.

Refusal. That was the message.

He told you to deliver it. Two other rather large ponies came in. The boss told you what would happen if you failed.

You subconsciously wince as you remember a sharp feeling through your jaw.

There was more chuckling. You were lifted up.

Your head begins to hurt as you remember. The mare said something about medicine. Where is she? Turning your head to the side again, you see the critters of the house go to and fro. Birds sing a few notes here and there while mice and squirrels chitter amongst one another. The mixture of noise is actually kind of peaceful.

A squirrel curiously looks up at you. They make a tiny little tzh-tzh noise. All you can manage is a small smile at the adorable little animal. They scratch behind their ears for a moment before scurrying off, through the legs of the yellow mare as it goes.

Your eyes look up to see her. She’s carrying a small bowl by the edge with her mouth. Walking up beside you, she sits down on her haunches before taking the bowl with her hooves.

“This should make you feel better,” she says. Using one hoof to hold the bowl, she brings her other behind your head. You feel her pressing against your mane, which you would normally hate, but you know it doesn’t matter at this point. She probably couldn’t ruin your hair any more, you think with a bit of mirth.

With a gentle but still firm push, she helps you lean your head upward. She brings the bowl to your lips as you look inside it. Inside is a small amount of green sludge that smells a little earthy. You let out a little squeak of confusion.

“This is called harpagophytum,” she explains. “It’s, um... more commonly known as Devil’s Claw. Now I know that may sound scary, but it’s just an herb that can help with your pain. It’s perfectly safe.”

You have no strength to argue. As she tilts the bowl up, you let the liquid pass through over your tongue and down your throat. It’s warm and tastes just like it smells. Not too bad. You remember having to take worse tasting things as a foal.

The heat from the liquid itself is somewhat soothing. The mare sets the bowl down on the ground as she slowly lowers your head back down, sinking back into the pillow. Taking her hoof back, she leans down to pick up the bowl again before walking into the other room.

You can already feel whatever she gave you taking effect. The soreness throughout your body begins to fade, although the sharp sting in your midsection is still present. You feel a little numbness spread down your legs, which is a welcome change compared to how you felt moments ago.

After hear a small clatter from the other room, the yellow pegasus comes back, airborn this time. As she flaps her wings, she looks over you. Her mane still falling neatly without any sort of knot or tangle, only making you wish you could attend to your own mane as soon as possible.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” she says. “I’m just going to go find the nurse and let her know that you’re awake.”

You manage a small nod as she flies out of sight. You close your eyes as you hear a door in the room open and close. Breathing out a sigh, you lay there as you continue to feel the medicine she gave you taking effect. The whole of your body had a warm and numb sensation.

Wait... what did she say?

That she was going to get a nurse? Like a hospital nurse?

Panic alarms start to go off in your head. You’re still not a hundred percent sure why you hurt so much, but it’s a safe bet that you won’t want to answer to anypony about it. You need to get out of here.

With a loud grunt, you try to force yourself into a sitting position. All manner of soreness returns in full force, only with the added numbness now making it harder to move. There’s no way you could possibly get yourself upright and the bending made the stinging in your torso sting much worse. Maybe you could turn and roll yourself onto your hooves? Worth a shot.

Turning your body, you begin your struggle sideways. All the animals in the house stop to look at you, but you pay them no mind. They’re animals. They don’t know who you are and they certainly can’t say anything to anypony about where you’ve gone after you manage to get away from this place.

You manage to get a hoof somewhat close to the ground. It’s not much, but it’s enough to feel like progress. Another loud grunt causes it to touch the floor as you begin to work the rest of your body off the couch.

However, in your current state, there’s no way you could support yourself on one hoof. Your leg buckles the moment you put weight on it and it causes you to come crashing down to ground. Your hindlegs are tangled in the blanket and the pain you feel is much more intense than before. The stinging is enough to make you grit your teeth and your limbs almost feel as though they’re on fire. You think you feel something in your chest leaking.

No time to think on it. You take a moment to breathe and collect yourself. You try spreading your wings, but they just splay out uselessly on either side of you. Putting your hoof on the ground you try pushing yourself upward again, but your strength quickly gives out. Your breathing becomes heavier as you notice that it’s becoming harder to keep your eyelids open.

You just need a moment before you can get out of here.

Just need a little moment...

Just need a...

...just...

…

~~~~~

You begin to recognize the sensations around your body in the familiar darkness in front of your eyes. That’s the blanket over your legs. That’s the pillow behind your head. Underneath you is that sofa with its back against your side.

Something you don’t remember is the pinpoint spike of pain in your chest. You feel your entire body twitch involuntarily. A tugging sensation comes next as you begin to hear voices. One of which you’ve never heard before.

Taking a silent deep breath, you realize your attempted escape from the yellow mare’s house was a failure.

Keeping your eyes closed, you try to make out what they’re saying.

“...not totally unconscious.”

“Are you sure?” asks the pegasus from before.

“You saw how his muscles constricted in response to the needle? That means he can still register pain. He should be fine.”

“Oh, what a relief...”

“So, you said he had woken up. Was there anything to note when he did?”

“Well, he seemed like he was still in pain, so I gave him some medicine for it.”

“Okay. And what’s his name?”

You feel a little pang of terror. You had really really hoped that you wouldn’t have to answer any questions like that.

“He didn’t tell me. I don’t even think he said anything after waking up.”

“So all we have to go on is his cutie mark. Fortunately, it’s obvious that his profession is a mailpony of some kind.”

You inwardly groan to yourself. In the moment of whatever happened, you forgot about your cutie mark. Now they may be able to identify you.

“Unfortunately, we had been looking in our files all morning and couldn’t find anything for anypony with such a mark,” the nurse adds, much to your relief.

“Does that mean he, um... he’s not from Ponyville?”

“Probably. If he is, then he’s never checked into Ponyville General before.” The nurse’s voice changes to a more suspicious tone. “Any idea why he’d try to leave, tearing open some of his stitches in the process?”

Stitches?

“Well, he seems stable enough at the moment. I’d like to move him to the hospital for a few tests and to ask him some questions.”

With a small gasp, your eyes shoot open. The two ponies notice and look at you.

“Well, good morning again, sleepyhead,” the yellow pegasus comments with a smile. The other one with her is a white earth pony with a very light pink mane, somewhat frazzled reminding you of the sad fate your own mane has endured. She wears a nurse’s cap and has a red cross as her cutie mark. They look a little less than happy and have a brown medical bag next to them.

The animals that were around seem to have all disappeared except for the occasional bird or squirrel running through.

“Right then,” the nurse says. “Can you please explain to me what happened to you?”

You pause for a moment before shaking your head. If given a little time you could probably remember, but you also know that you’d probably not want to have to explain it.

“Oh dear...” says the yellow pegasus in her light voice. “He must've hit his head when he crashed.”

Crashed? You doubt that’s what happened, but it sounds like a good story. You can roll with that.

“I’ve told you before, Fluttershy, I don’t think he crashed,” says that nurse.

So that’s the yellow mare’s name.

“He may be a little battered, but not in any way that shows he was dropped from any significant height or speed.”

“But... maybe he hit a tree or something? And a branch caused the cut on his chest?” Fluttershy asks.

The nurse gives you another long look. “While I must admit, given how clean the cut was, I doubt it,” she says. With a shrug she looks back to Fluttershy and follows with, “But I don’t want to jump to any conclusions.”

Fluttershy nods silently while the nurse turns back to you.

“So please, sir. Can you remember anything about the incident?” she asks.

You shake your head again. She lets out another sigh.

“Okay then. What’s your name?”

You open your mouth, but don’t let any words come out. A noncommittal noise slowly comes out as you try to think of something to say, or if you should say anything at all. Eyes slowly travelling back down to your own chest, you opt to remain silent.

You hear the nurse let out a frustrated groan as you see the stitches they were talking about for the first time. The bandages are gone, giving you a good look at a long bloody line going down your body, held closed by string you only see in segments before it disappears into your own skin. The sight makes you grimace a little.

“Nothing about that ringing a bell?” the nurse asks. A bunch of bells, in fact. The incident is so close to barrelling into the forefront of your mind.

Another pony in a dark room. A knife. You were being carried.

You clench your eyes shut and force yourself to hold the rest of the memory back.

“Are you in pain again?” Fluttershy asks, her voice full of concern. You shake your head as you let the muscles in your face relax.

“Well, we can find out more about him and his condition when we get him to the hospital,” the nurse says, wheeling in and unfolding a travel gurney. “A physical check up, a check on his blood, and when he remembers we can get the full story.”

Your eyes go wide as your furiously shake your head, only to immediately regret it due to the ever present stiffness and ache in your neck.

“No? You don’t want to go to the hospital?” the nurse asks. “Why not? We can help you recover much faster.”

You shake your head.

“We can monitor you, make sure everything is okay.”

You shake your head again. She lets out a frustrated sigh again.

“Look, I know you may not remember what happened, for whatever reason, but here’s what I know...” She leans in close and looks you square in the eye. “Earlier today, I just had to give you a magic-to-blood transfusion while you were in too bad of shape to move past the home of this kind mare,” she gestures to Fluttershy, “who you nearly gave a heart attack when she found you. The least you owe her is to make sure you get well, isn’t it?”

This actually makes you pause. Sure enough, Fluttershy was kind enough to find you help and take you in while you were hurt, but you’re still afraid of the consequences of going to a hospital and them finding out too much about you. You take a moment, fear and guilt battling in your heart. Eventually, your head sinks down as you shake it, too afraid to face the nurse.

Hearing a couple hoofsteps towards you, Fluttershy begins to speak. “I know hospitals can be scary,” she begins, “but it would be best for you to get proper care and treatment. Please?”

You don’t even look up. Breathing a long sigh through your nose, you just shake your head once more.

The nurse lets out a low groan.

“So... what should we do?” Fluttershy asks.

“We can’t make him go to the hospital if he refuses,” the nurse says. “If he’s not from Ponyville then maybe we can check him into somewhere near his hometown. Where do you live?” she asks.

You remain silent. If giving your name is a bad idea, giving them your residence would be even worse.

“What town are you from?” she follows up.

You shake your head.

Hooves lightly touch themselves against your temples. You open your eyes to see the nurse looking closely at your scalp. She takes time to examine every part she can see, although her breath blowing through your mane annoys you. Even with how bad it must be, you still don’t want anything more happening to it. With gentle guiding, you allow her to bend or twist your head slightly to help her. Every now and again, a thoughtful hum escapes from her lips as a hoof comes up to brush away some hair obscuring her vision, which irks you even more. Her examination goes down the back of your head as you feel one of her hoofs travelling down the back of your neck.

Keeping one hoof on the side of your head, you see her appear again in front of you. You can feel some of her weight leaning against your side. She holds up her other hoof directly in front of you.

“Follow with your eyes, please,” she prompts you before slowly moving her hoof to the left side. You follow it with your vision and again when it starts moving to the right, where you can see Fluttershy out of the side of your vision, sitting quietly while rubbing her hooves nervously in front of herself. Once more, you keep the nurse’s hoof in the focus of your sight until it returns to its starting position directly ahead.

“No sign of any physical head trauma, as far as I can see,” she says, taking her hooves back and standing up away from you. “At least, without proper equipment,” she adds with a hint of emphasis towards you. “And certainly can’t check anything about his blood here.”

“How, um... important is it that you check his blood?” Fluttershy asks.

“Very important. We’d have to do a test with a blood sample to make sure he doesn’t reject that transfusion in one way or another. Magic can be... rather fickle in medicinal use, especially when not administered by a unicorn.”

You raise an eyebrow in concern which the nurse notices.

“Don’t worry, I’ve been especially trained for the situation, but that doesn’t mean there’s not a chance. In fact, one moment.”

She rummages around in her bag for a moment before pulling out a pamphlet which she gives to you titled Magical Transfusions: All You Need To Know. You fold open the pamphlet and information about how magic energy can be used in the blood stream. Skimming over a few lines, you read:

New ethereal packs can make a magical transfusion possible for any pony race (not just unicorns) to administer. This magical energy can be substituted as a life source, filling the body with a sort of typeless blood, if need be. This blood is compatible with all other types as current research has shown, but sometimes complications can occur, depending on how much is used. Symptoms range from clotting to thinning, or in extreme cases, sudden outbursts that can cause internal hemorrhaging.

You suck some air in through your teeth as you read that last part. How could they in good conscious do this to ponies?

“Yeah,” the nurse says, seeing your reaction. “Now you know why I want to check your blood. It’s easy to catch early and treat if need be.”

Putting the pamphlet down, you consider your options. On one hoof you have the chance of getting found out. On the other, you have the chance of random internal exploding. As scary as it sounds...

Before you can shake your head again, Fluttershy steps forward.

“She just wants to make sure you’re okay,” she says before turning to the nurse. “How long would he have to stay at the hospital?” she asks.

“Well, that would depend,” she replies. “If there’s any other injury other than... that,” she says, gesturing towards your chest, “then we’d keep him to administer treatment. But if the cut is all he has, then we’d probably check him out the same day. Even if there’s blood complications, a quick treatment and a prescription would fix it.”

“Really?” Fluttershy asks, as if reading your mind and asking for you.

She nods with a genuine smile before turning to you. “I’ve seen a lot of patients that are afraid of hospitals. And mister, I promise we’ll try to get you up and out of there as soon as we can, even if you can’t remember who you are at the moment. All I ask for is a little cooperation.”

Fluttershy turns back to you. “So, um, how about that? Just one day? Please?”

One day? And you might be able to continue faking amnesia and get out of there? For proper treatment, that was certainly a nice offer. But what if you had an additional injury and had to stay longer? Picking up the pamphlet again, you pretend to read as you force yourself to remember the events that happened before you woke up...

~~~~~

The two ponies who were sent with you leave the room. The ones who were your supposed protection are now gone. A musty smokey smell fills the room and the only light comes from a single bulb overhead seemingly casting you in a spotlight. You fidget with the edge of your vest as you wait for a response.

The pony gives a low rumbling hum before scooting back in his chair and getting up. He walks around his desk and begins moving towards you. Your mind is screaming for you to run, to fly away, but like in many other instances, fear glues you to the spot and holds your wings tightly to your sides.

“Well, that is rather unfortunate,” he says. Thankfully, he walks right past you, which allows you to release the air you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Your eyes stare straight ahead, fixed on the now empty desk.

“Tell me...” he continues. “Do you think you could give him a message back for me?” he asks. After his statement, you hear a drawer behind you opening. Still staring straight ahead, you hear a little rustling before the sliding wood sound of it closing again.

Licking your lips, you merely manage a shaky nod. You can almost feel all of yourself shaking on the spot as a bead of cold sweat runs down your forehead. The lack of sound in the room nearly drives you insane in the moment as all you hear are the hoofsteps of the only pony in the room now walking back towards you.

The moment they come back into your vision, it nearly causes you to jump. Now in the light, you can get a good look at them. Black fur with matching mane, which seems almost unnatural. They have almost a full head over you in height while standing and they’re shoulders are nearly twice as broad as yours.

Those eyes, those piercing yellow eyes, like a predator causes you to look at them and only them, afraid to look away lest the beast strikes. Out of the corner of your eye, you see that he has something in his hoof.

“Just a little something saying that I don’t appreciate the... disrespect,” he says. He begins tapping whatever he has in his other hoof, but you still don’t dare look down to see what it is. Whatever it is, light reflecting off of it flashes in your eyes while it’s moving. “You understand, don’t you? Surely you’d realize that I wouldn’t like such bad news.”

You gulp around the lump that has formed in your throat. Before you can get any words out, he stops tapping and puts a hoof on your shoulder.

Before you could register what’s happening, he brings the object just below your shoulder. A tip of something cold pricks through your fur and against your skin, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

“...Nothing personal.”

A quick swipe of his hoof causes a burning sensation in your chest. Letting out a gasp, you grit your teeth and try to keep up on your hooves, but the pain quickly makes you double over and fall onto the floor.

“I’ll be sending a bill for the carpet cleaners as well,” he says. Looking up at him, you see a finely polished knife in his hoof. You could see yourself in the blade, writhing on the ground.

Clutching at your chest, you feel something warm and sticky begin to cover your hooves. The pony standing above you walks back towards the door and you hear him open the drawer again. You don’t hear much more as a ringing begins to resonate in your ears as you close your eyes as tightly as possible.

Vaguely aware of what’s going on, something picks you up and slings you over their back, doing no favors for your chest wound. Getting roughly carried out of the room, the rest of your senses begin to fade as the ringing becomes louder and louder and the burning sensation spreads.

Soon, it is all you can feel or hear.

~~~~~

You shudder as you come out of the memory.

Looking up from the pamphlet, you see the two mares beside you still waiting for an answer.

“Well?” asks the nurse. “Trip to the hospital, nothing to lose.”

Yeah right. Still, thinking back, you can’t recall anything that would give you injury past getting cut. You breathe in deeply and hold it for a couple moments before letting it go slowly.

Then you turn to the nurse and begrudgingly nod your head.

Both her and Fluttershy smile. “Excellent,” the nurse says as she wheels the gurney closer. “Just hop on up and we’ll get you there. Fluttershy, can I ask for your help?”

“Of course,” she replies. She walks around behind you while the nurse takes your hooves. Both of them are gentle as they push and pull you up into a sitting position. All the while, your sore body protests the movement.

Guiding you still, they help ease you on to your hooves and support you when you’re off the couch. The nurse lowers the gurney for you to easily lay down on it. Rolling onto it, you place your head on the cool pillow with a pillowcase that seems to almost crinkle around your head like paper. She also pulls up a thin sheet to cover you up to your chest as you close your eyes again.

The nurse walks to the end of the gurney and begins to wheel you out of the door. The road from the house seems to have a couple twists in it as loose dirt and pebbles against the small wheels make the ride a little bumpy. You stop again as you hear something dragging against wood before thumping on the ground. Being pushed again, you feel yourself going upwards at an angle before leveling out again. After a couple more scrapes and thumps, you feel not yourself, but something all around you moving.

Opening your eyes, you see that you are now inside of a cart with a white cloth cover. You can barely make out the shape of another red cross on the side of it. The nurse from before is here along with another beside her.

You feel something pat against your shoulder. Looking over, you see a yellow hoof going up to Fluttershy.

Wait, why did she come along? Why is she here?

“Don’t worry,” she says in her calm, hushed voice. “You’ll be just fine. Everything will be okay.”

The questions in your mind are silenced, even if unanswered. Looking up to her gentle smile and tranquil blue eyes makes you begin to smile as well, melting away the last of your worry.

Closing your eyes again, you just let yourself be wheeled away. The nurses begin talking about something or other. You hear noises outside the cart from whatever town you’re in. They don’t matter to you.

Her hoof is still on your shoulder as her words repeat in your mind.

Everything will be okay.

...Right?

Author's Note

Well, the vote was in for me to complete the first chapter. However, as I wrote, I found that everything might have fit better to end at this point and make it all just be chapter one.

Fun fact: the prologue would have ended right when the character passed out.

Thanks to Kody910, Slashe720, and Eights.

Wow, do I know some people with numbers in their name.

Chapter 2: Have to Get Out

“Big job for you today,” your escort says, looking down at you with his nose in the air.

You only nod your head in response.

“You’re not nervous about it, are you?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“Good. That’s good. Glad to hear it.” He and the other stallion take a step closer towards you. “We’ll make sure to get you there safely.”

~~~~~

Your vision fades to black as the dream ends. A faint beeping noise soon becomes apparent as you open your eyes. You start to notice a very strong clean smell. However, the bright fluorescent light directly above you makes you shut them again. Lowering your head away from the blinding overhead, you slowly try again.

It doesn’t help at all that apparently everything in the room is as white as Princess Celestia in a snowstorm. Your progress is painful, but soon enough, you begin to make out shapes and colors. What you’re laying on seems to have changed. A white sheet is over you in a bed with small railings on the sides. A couple wires are attached to your chest up to a few machines. One of them is making the beeping noise, but you’re still too tired to care which.

Then you remember, you’re in the hospital. A small wave of panic shoots through you, as the tempo of the beeping increases slightly. It and your heart rate return to normal shortly after as you remember why you’re here and what your plan is: Fake amnesia, get out, and get back to Manehattan. You’ve probably missed enough work to make your superiors very unhappy.

Letting out a yawn, you look around the room. Nopony else is in here at the moment. You wonder where the yellow one went. Fluttershy, that was her name.

To be fair, she probably has her own business to attend to. She was nice enough to let you sleep on her couch after almost dying from bloodloss. Maybe you could do something nice for her when all’s said and done. A little ‘Thank You’ card, perhaps.

The sound of a door opening takes you out of your thoughts. You look up to see the nurse from before entering the room.

“Good afternoon,” she says, much friendlier than you remember her being earlier. “Glad to see that you’re awake.”

You give a simple nod to her in reply.

“Now then,” she says, holding up a clipboard she had with her. “Do you happen to remember anything about the incident that injured you?”

Putting your plan into motion, you pause as if you’re thinking before slowly shaking your head.

“Do you remember where the incident occurred?”

You shake your head.

“Do you remember where you are from?”

Pause again. Shake head.

“Do you remember your name?”

Longer pause this time. Shake head.

She breathes in deeply before sighing. Picking up a pen in her mouth, she scribbles down something on her clipboard before putting it up on the table beside your bed. She walks over to a sink in the corner, which you wonder if you could use to wash your mane. Turning on the faucet, she washes her hooves in the flowing water before turning it off again and drying them off. Walking back up to you, she bends down and you can hear a drawer opening. The sound triggers an unpleasant recent memory, but you try to not let any reaction show itself.

She pops right back up with a small flashlight in her mouth. Turning to you, she gestures with a hoof for you to face towards her. As you turn your own head, she places a hoof on your cheek, signalling for you to keep still. You feel your still ruffled mane ruffle some more. You suppress a groan for your poor hair. She looks up and with a small bite the flashlight in her mouth turns on. Bringing the light down, she shines it in your left eye briefly, then your right. Another small bite turns the flashlight off as she takes her hoof back while you try to blink out the colorful spots now in your vision.

She moves your head so you’re facing up towards the ceiling. You hear another click of the flashlight before feeling a hoof pull up your ear which had been folded back and down by habit. A small sensation of warmth within your ear. She walks around the bed and repeats the process with your other ear before clicking off the light again.

She goes back to the table, places the flashlight aside, and writes on the clipboard before reaching back down into the drawer. This time, she pulls out a tongue depressor held to her hoof with a small elastic band.

“Open please,” she says.

You open your mouth as she puts the flat wooden stick against your tongue. The grainy taste immediately makes your mouth feel dry.

“Say ‘aaah’.”

Following her request, you let out a tiny continuous sound that could be mistaken for you just exhaling. However, it’s enough to satisfy her as she takes the tongue depressor back and slides it off her hoof. It falls to the ground with a small clang, probably into a trashcan. She holds up a glass thermometer which she gives a little shake before pointing towards you.

“Open again please. Under your tongue.”

You oblige, lifting your tongue as she places the cool glass rod. You’re not sure how many taste buds are underneath your tongue, but you can still register a metallic taste as you close your lips.

Reaching down again, she pulls out a stethoscope. Putting the headset into her ears, she brings the chestpiece down a ways below your left shoulder. You wince a little at the cold sensation of the metal under your fur.

“Breathe in slowly,” she instructs. Taking in a full breath of air through your nose, she then says, “Breathe out.” You release the breath as you had just inhaled it. She moves the stethoscope over to the other side of your chest.

“Breathe in.”

You do so this time, taking a little more air than last time. You feel your lungs strain a bit.

“Breathe out.”

To breathe out is a bit of a relief. As you exhale, the nurse puts her hoof back on your shoulder.

“Sit up, please.”

With a little effort and some help from the nurse, you manage to get up into a sitting position. You had nearly forgotten how sore you felt everywhere. As soon as you are able to support yourself, you feel the cold sensation come to a point on the right side of your upperback.

“Breathe in,” she prompts again.

You do so slowly, taking care not to breathe in too much like last time. A little worry tickles your mind that maybe breathing in so much last time may skew the results of this checkup.

“And out again.”

Releasing the breath, you come to figure that this nurse probably would have noticed and said something if it truly mattered. The position of the stethoscope moves again to the other side of your back.

“In.”

You do so, bending back a little. You suddenly have the urge to stretch, but you wait until this little test is done. Although she seems to make you hold this breath for a bit longer which makes you wonder if something suddenly went wrong.

“Out.”

Feeling a small bit of relief, you exhale again, but the nurse keeps the stethoscope on your back for a little while longer. She moves it upwards a tiny bit, listening again before moving it again a little ways towards your spine.

The cold sensation leaves your back as she scribbles down on the clipboard again. Gently lowering yourself down, you rest your head against the pillow again and arch your back upward in the stretch you needed. The action makes you feel more awake.

She glances over towards your chest as she puts the stethoscope away. “I’m surprised. I thought I’d have to replace all the stitches, not just the ones you pulled earlier,” she says. “Fluttershy did a good job when she found you.”

Wait, it was Fluttershy that sewed you up? Looking down to your chest, you notice that the strings holding the wound closed near the top was a different color then what’s holding the rest.

“Well, I suppose with her work with animals, she must have some experience,” she adds before bringing out a black cuff with a pump attached by a small hose. “May I see your arm, please?” she asks.

You lift your foreleg towards her as she opens the cuff to put around it. Securing it by velcro, she takes the pump and begins squeezing it. The cuff begins to inflate around your arm as you think.

So Fluttershy found you, let you stay at her house, and patched you up? She sounds like a saint. Or at least a vet, if the words of the nurse are anything to go by. And with all the animals you saw in her house, she’s probably very busy. It makes you feel a bit better for choosing to come here and leaving Fluttershy alone.

The cuff stops inflating as the nurse watches the dial on the side. It squeezes tight enough that you feel a little loss of circulation. A tingly sensation runs down to your hoof as the hairs on your foreleg feel like they’re beginning to stand on end. The cuff starts deflating in small, short bursts as the nurse controls it. After a few more moments, she deflates it completely and takes it off your arm. The warm tingly feeling lingers as she puts it away and writes down something else.

She holds up a small rubber mallet and pulls up the sheet over your hindlegs. Looking over to make sure you’re looking, she holds the mallet above your right knee. She gives a little nod before giving your leg a firm tap. You feel your leg tense a little in reaction. Repeating the process with the other leg, she looks to you first before firmly tapping again with the same result. Putting the mallet away, she reaches towards you and grabs the thermometer in your mouth. She looks at the red line within the glass before writing again on her clipboard.

As she writes, a light knocking comes from the door.

“Come in,” the nurse says.

The door opens and in walks another nurse. “Hello. Hope I’m not interrupting,” she says.

“Not at all. How can I help you?” the nurse asks.

“Well, a nice mare had come by to drop this off for the gentlecolt here.” She holds up something over her pink foreleg. You have to turn your head to get a better look at it.

It’s your vest! You had completely forgot about it!

She brings it over and holds it out for you. Examining it, you really have to see closely to notice the sewing work in the chest where it was torn. The green pinstripes shine brightly against the now vivid black. This thing is probably cleaner than the day you first got it. It’d probably lead to your boss asking a couple more questions, but you’ll worry about that later. For now, you look over your vest with one of the widest grins you’ve had in a long time.

“So how are you feeling?” she asks. “Can you remember anything?”

You smile falters as you shake your head.

“Oh dear...” she says. “How is he, nurse? Any other injuries we were worried about?”

“We haven’t been able to run any tests of that sort since the patient was sleeping. Hospital protocol,” the nurse explains. “However, now that he’s awake, could you bring in the specialized physician? I just finished giving him a basic physical examination before you came in.”

“And did that show any problems?” she asks.

“Well, nothing urgently pressing, no. However, whatever sort of life he had before now, he hasn’t eaten well. He shows some signs of malnutrition, but that’s it.”

The second nurse giggles. “Well, I’m sure he’ll fix that when he gets out of here.” You offer a tiny nod with a sheepish smile, even though you’ll probably not do as they tell you. “So if all goes well, when do you think the patient will be able to check out?”

“I don’t know,” the first nurse says. The comment sparks concern in your mind. She looks over and notices your worried expression. “Look, I know that you don’t like hospitals and I said you could possibly leave today,” she begins, “But I also thought you’d have remembered who you are by now.”

You feel your jaw drop.

“We can’t just kick out a patient with amnesia,” the other nurse says. “Where would they go? Where would they stay?”

“Now then, please hold still...” says the first nurse as she takes a cotton ball and pushes it against your foreleg, under the fur down to the skin. Your mind is a buzz with so much panic that the heart monitor starts beeping a bit faster. You don’t even register the needle going into your arm and withdrawing blood.

So they’ll only let you go if you can remember? Maybe you can come up with a fake story... but no, what if they try and do a background check? They have your cutie mark and physical appearance so they could easily spot you in a crowd. Where would they even look in Manehattan? Can you take that chance?

The nurse gives the blood sample to her coworker. “I’ll send the doctor when I get to the lab. We’ll get those tests done so you can get out of here as soon as you remember who you are!” says the second nurse cheerfully before walking out of the room.

The sound of rushing water attracts your attention again. The nurse who examined you is washing her hooves again. In the corner of your vision, you see the clipboard she was writing on. A section in red ink catches your eye.

TRIED TO LEAVE CARE. KEEP AN EYE ON THIS PATIENT.

You put your face in your hooves. How are you supposed to get out of here? They probably have some night ponies or something who’d notice if you try to leave. You’re stuck here even longer, your boss will get angrier, your next assignment’s already meager pay will probably get docked, your mane’s still a mess, and this is all assuming they don’t find out who you are first.

The sink’s faucet squeaks off again as the nurse comes back up to you and flips off the switch for the heart monitor machine. She begins taking off the electrodes attached to your chest. “The doctor will be in soon,” she explains as she sets them aside and picks the clipboard back up. “We want to get you ready for your xrays as soon as possible. I’ll be back with him shortly.”

You give a nod as she exits the room. You consider your options carefully. Looking over to the window, it looks like it might be able to open, but all you see is sky through it. However, since you fell asleep on the way, you don’t know how many stories this building is and which floor you’re currently on. Normally not a worry for a pegasus like yourself, but you don’t know if you can trust your wings just yet. You still feel some soreness everywhere.

Do they even have guards? They must have ponies for late night care. You wonder if they have a back door you can slip through.

That’ll have to be for later though. Escape is important, but something else has to come first. With no heart monitor attached to you, you turn your attention to the sink. This seems like the perfect opportunity and this hospital has probably seen weirder than what you’re about to do.

Leaning up again proves to be difficult on your own. You try carefully to do so without ripping your stitches. When you get yourself up in a sitting position, you set aside your vest and look to your next obstacle: the railing along the bed. It’s about two to three inches high, but in your state, it’ll still be a challenge.

Nonetheless you turn your body to try and work your way over it. You lean your side on it which begins to sting as you put your weight against it. Persisting through it and acting quickly, you manage to roll yourself up and over the rail and onto the floor with a rather hefty thump.

Taking a moment to compose yourself on the ground, you look to see if your stitches are alright. They seem to be holding just fine, so you try to get up onto your hooves for the homestretch of your journey. It takes a couple tries, but you’re able to stand up and start slowly making your way towards the sink.

Every step is made with either a wince or a grunt, most times both. Still, the goal was in sight, clean water to a cleaner mane. Finally reaching the sink, you sit and lean yourself against it. The faucet is high enough from the sink that you can fit your head in if you turn it sideways. When you do, you turn the knobs for both the hot and cold water.

Of course the water that first hits you is rather frigid. It makes you jump a bit, tapping the side of your head against faucet, but not hard enough to hurt. It sprays a little water over the counter, though. You let the liquid run through your hair and smile, feeling the dirt, grime, and filth slowly getting washed away. The water soon becomes a pleasant temperature as you reach up and fumble around for the soap pump. Pushing the button a couple times, you bring the hoof full of soap to your scalp and begin working in into your hair. It has a fairly decent lather and it easily spreads through your rather short mane.

Working in the soap is so satisfying, like scratching a particularly stubborn itch. You keep going, moving your hooves back and forth, around in circles, all throughout your mane. Feeling the rubbing and pressing with the warm water has blocked out the soreness you felt before. Letting out a sigh, the water rinses out the soap, but you still work your hooves through it, the motion and warmth calming your nerves.

And then you hear a cough behind you.

Glancing over, you can just see two ponies behind you in the corner of your eye. One is the nurse from earlier and the other is a different pony who you can’t really tell any features of in your current position.

With a mixture of disappointment and embarrassment, you turn off the water and grab a couple of paper towels to wipe off your mane before leaning out of the sink. A couple drops of water drop onto your shoulders and back as you sit up. Wiping your face off, you look over to the two ponies in the room with you.

Along with the nurse is somepony who you assume is the doctor. A unicorn with a brown mane wearing glasses along with a clean white shirt with stethoscope over their cream colored fur. They both stare at you blankly while you try to fix your mane into place.

The doctor whispers something to the nurse who nods and then writes something down on her clipboard. She exits the room while the doctor turns back to you with a smile.

“Glad to see you up and moving,” he says, walking towards you while reaching out a hoof. “I’m Dr. Stable. I’ll be doing a few tests on you today to make sure you didn’t hurt anything else besides your chest.”

You carefully give him your own hoof. His grip is firm, but he shakes gently enough that he doesn’t cause anything to hurt.

“Nice hair, by the way,” he adds with a little grin. You groan internally. He obviously doesn’t know how much of a pressing issue it was. How absolutely dirty and unkempt your mane must have been.

With a little chuckle, he turns away from you toward the sink. He takes a couple more paper towels with his magic and wipes up any water that splashed out during your impromptu hair wash. You feel a little bad for making a mess, but he cleans it all up quickly before turning back to you.

“So, the test room is right down the hall. Think you can walk all the way there without any pain?” he asks. “We have wheelchairs available if it’s too much.”

You take a quick assessment of yourself. Everything’s still aching pretty badly and it took everything you had to get to the sink. You shake your head, opting for the wheelchair.

“Very well!” he says, using his magic to open a closet in the corner of the room. Inside are various medical supplies: bandages, defibrillators, and some empty IV bags to name a few. On the bottom are a couple wheelchairs folded up flat sideways, which the doctor pulls apart with his magic and brings it just behind you. You bring yourself up just enough to get into the chair and relax into it as the smooth fabric of the seat bends down under your weight. Only complaint is that it’s rather cold to the touch. You feel the doctor begin to wheel you out of the room and down the hall.

The clean smell from before is instantly replaced with something just on the edge of sweet as you make it into the hall. It’s probably from the potted plants that they placed here and there. They don’t even smell like plants. Are they plastic? Maybe it’s for some allergy concern.

You’re wheeled past a couple nurses and patients. Some of the patients give you a glance, some cringe at the sight of your chest. The nurses, however, don’t even look up except to give a casual nod to the doctor pushing you down the hall. You look up at the signs pointing towards any potential exits and make a mental note for later.

Finally, near the end of the hallway, you get turned into a rather dark room. The sweet smell is stronger here than the hallway and makes you think the scent outside simply wafts from here. It’s smells almost as if somepony baked a chunk of rubber in a copious amount of caramel.

There’s a large machine that almost takes up half the room by itself. It hangs from the ceiling with a few cables connecting various parts. It’s all covered in white except the arms and tracks that parts would move around on which are black. A box with a lens points down toward a little padded table underneath. On one side of the table is a lump with a groove in it, probably where the pony is expected to put their head. In the corner is a control console with various buttons of all colors and screens with monitors.

“Okie dokie, we’re here!” the doctor says, wheeling you up to the table. “Please lay yourself down here on the table and be very still.”

You try to sit up and the doctor comes to help you. Gently easing you up and then back down on the table, you lean yourself down until you’re laying face up towards the machine. He goes over to the controls, out of sight while you gaze up at the intimidating machinery. A series of clicks is heard as it begins to hum to life.

When the pitch of the hum is constant, you see the doctor magic aura envelop the little lens box.

“Be still, please,” he repeats. You try to breathe calmly and obey as the lens floats over your face. A bright light attached to it causes you to wince and shut your eyes. As you settle back down, eyes firmly shut, you hear a fast series of clicks from the box. As the clicking finishes, the light you can see past your eyelids travels over to the side of your head. The box gives another series of clicks as you try to hold your position as still as possible.

The blinding light moves away from your eyes. You can still tell it’s there, but at least you can open your eyelids to see again. Looking down, but taking care not to move your head, you see the light over your chest as it clicks again. The doctor’s magic moves to beside you.

“Could you lift your forelegs up, please?” he asks.

Trying to comply, you lift your front hooves up out of the way of the lens. It clicks a bit more as the soreness burns in your muscles, making it difficult to keep them up for long. Thankfully, the clicking stops and the box moves away, prompting you to drop your hooves with a small sigh of relief.

“We’ll have to wait for those to develop,” he says. “Although from what I have observed from your movement, I don’t think there’ll be anything to worry about. Still, better safe than sorry.”

You offer a meager nod in reply as you slowly lift yourself off the table. His magic brings the wheelchair back towards you.

“Do you need to use the restroom or anything before we return to your room?” the doctor asks.

You shake your head as you sit in the seat again. It feels cold again, as if it lost all its heat just in the small time you’ve been out of it. As soon as you're comfortable, you feel yourself getting pushed out of the room and back down the hall.

The smell of the room fades as you get away from it. The hall is a little less crowded, only seeing one other patient and two nurses on your return trip. None of them look up.

Being pushed the other direction, you notice a rather large counter down the hall from your room where a few nurses are chatting. That must be the main desk where the nurses are stationed to wait on emergencies. You’ll have to avoid that area when you sneak out.

You get wheeled back into your room and by the bed where your vest lays waiting for you. The doctor’s magic lowers the railing on one side. Slowly climbing back up onto the mattress, you wonder if there was any way for you to lower those yourself before your little adventure to the sink. It doesn’t matter so you shake off the thought. As soon as you’re up onto the bed, the doctor raises the railing back in place.

“I’m afraid that the next meal is still a couple hours away. If you’re hungry, I could get you some crackers,” the doctor offers.

You shake your head. There’s too much on your mind to eat at the moment.

“Thirsty, perhaps? I can get you some ice water.”

Shake your head again.

“Alright then. You have a call button on the little remote beside you,” he says walking around and pointing it out. A bright red button on a tiny box attached to the bed by its wire. “If you need anything, feel free to press it. A nurse should be in to help you.”

The doctor’s magic starts to envelop the electrodes to the heart monitor. As they get close, you shrink back and cover yourself partially with a forearm. If he attaches that thing to you again it’ll make it harder to leave.

“Don’t worry, this won’t hurt you,” he says reassuringly. “I know it may seem scary, but we need to make sure your blood is flowing properly after that magic transfusion.” That statement makes you lower your defensive forearm a bit. “If the bloodwork comes back and tells us you’re okay, then we may be able to take it off,” he explains.

With a sigh, you let him put the electrodes of the heart monitor machine back on your chest under your fur. As soon as they’re all attached, he flips a switch which causes the machine to beep again.

“Believe me, I understand. Some ponies don’t like hospitals, but we just want to make sure you’re getting better, alright?” He gives a chuckle. “And believe you me, the beeping gets on my nerves sometimes. At least you could be out of here and away from it soon enough.”

You give him a nod of understanding and he walks out of the room. As soon as he’s out of sight, you look down with disdain at the electrodes on your chest. You need to get out of here, but if you try to take these off now, it would alert the staff. Looking over to the machine, it seems that the switch for it is around the other side away from you, putting it out of reach for you to turn off. Leaning back, you twist your head to get a better look at it.

...Huh. That’s peculiar. It seems that the switch’s down position means the machine is on. There’s probably some sort of safety design logic behind that. Wouldn’t want the machine turning off before somepony has a serious problem.

You look at some of the wires around the machine. Most of the devices they go to aren’t currently in use, and by the look of some of them, you feel sorry for the ponies that need them. The wires vary in shape and color, a twisting multicolored tangle of colors. One sticks out amongst them, a fat black wire, like a long rope of licorice snakes down through the others.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you reach out and give it a little tug with your hoof. The wire is heavier than expected. It has a rather lot of slack, too. Pulling it back to examine it, you see it has a thicker insulation. Must be the main power plug to all this equipment.

A series of giggling in the hall catches your attention. You see two of the other nurses walk by your door, the red and blue furred ones, waving behind them as they trot off. Are they going on break or something? You don’t remember seeing too many nurses around, so how many are left to watch the desk? To watch the patients?

Looking at the wire, you start to get an idea. Pulling it back a bit more, you let it go. It swings and hits against the back of the heart monitor. Pulling it back again, you lift it up this time, adjusting the angle it would fall. After a few tries you lean up to barely rest against a lighting fixture that gives it a little sideways swing. When you let go, the wire falls around and smacks down on the monitor’s switch. Bringing it back into position, you manage to recreate the result reliably.

But how can you make it stay in position and fall later? You remember something the doctor offered you earlier. Pressing the call button, you wait for the last white furred nurse. It only takes a minute for her to arrive.

“Need something?” she asks.

You bring a hoof up to your mouth in a sort of drinking motion.

“Thirsty? I’ll get you some water.”

Nodding courteously, you take another look at the wire, running through the plan again. Lifting yourself up a bit, despite your soreness, you manage to put on your vest. You can’t button it up with the monitor hooked up to you, but it’s a strange comfort to be able to wear it. Familiar, but unsettling. It’ll have to do.

The nurse comes back holding a paper cup of water on a tray on her back. Turning her head, she grabs the end of the tray in her teeth and sets it on the table next to you.

“There you go. Call if you need anything else,” she says before trotting back out. Thankfully, she said nothing about you wearing your vest.

Looking down into the cup, you see the clear liquid and the ice within it. Nice long wedge shapes cool the drink, but you have another plan for them. You turn yourself, the aches and pains through your body forcing you to do it slowly. You’re a little worried about having enough time for your plan, but you know you’ll fail if you do nothing. Picking up the cup in both hooves, you bring it up and start to drink. The chilled water stings your teeth a little, but it’s manageable enough for you to drain the water, leaving only the ice. As you bring your lips away from the cup, you breathe in. Admittedly, that water was really refreshing. You try to remember the last time you drank something. It was probably a while before this.

Either way, with the water gone, all that’s left in the cup is the ice. Tilting the cup up again, you slide a large piece into your mouth, letting the rest go as you set the cup back down. Taking the ice out with a hoof, you use your other hoof to pull the fat black wire behind you, over the machine and into position again.

Unfortunately, you only have two forelegs. Thankfully, you also have two wings. They still hurt, but you are able to use one of them to hold the wire as you fiddle with the back of your mattress. It’s not completely against the wall nor is it attached to the bed so you’re able to pull it back up off the metal structure it lays on. Sliding the piece of ice into place, you let the mattress go and it stays in place between the mattress and wall, which holds back the wire.

With that set, you press the call button again. Hopefully the nurse comes by again quickly.

And quick she is. Not even thirty seconds and she’s back. “Need something else?” she asks.

You gesture with your hoof out the door.

“You need to go?” she asks.

You nod.

“To the restroom or something?”

You nod again.

“Okay. Water must have gone right through you, huh?” she says with a little chuckle as she goes to get the wheelchair from the closet. “Not surprising. You probably haven’t had too many liquids today,” she explains as she walks up and lowers the railing to your bed.

She turns off the heart monitor by flipping up the switch then starts to take the electrodes off your chest. She helps you down off the bed and into the chair. You inwardly breathe a sigh of relief as you see the wire was not noticed or disturbed as you got up.

“I recommend you get some sleep when we come back. Rest will help you be able to move on your own again,” she says as she wheels you back down the hall.

As true as that might be, you can’t risk it. You have to get back to work right away, soreness and stitches be damned.

Nopony else is in the hallway this time, save for a patient or two, which is a good sign. The less staff the better. She wheels you away from the front desk, towards the xray room again, but you stop and turn down a short hallway about halfway down. There’s only a single door marked “Restroom” which the nurse opens.

“Need any help getting up for this?” she asks while flipping on the lightswitch. You see it’s a standard restroom, white all around with the basic features you’d come to expect.

You shake your head as you force yourself up to your hooves. Having to get help for this would be downright embarrassing and you’re thankful it hasn’t come to that. Closing the door behind you, you trot over to the toilet and sit down. You didn’t really have to go, but it’s less painful than waiting while standing up for your scheme to fall into action.

Listening to the electrical buzz of the bathroom lighting, you continue to wait. It’s low, barely audible droning calms your nerves a little. Still as the moments drag on, you can’t help but feel anxiety growing. If something went wrong, you’d never be able to tell from here. You’d just be stuck in a more awkward situation and have to start again. You’d have to waste time waiting for a while as well, which is that worst part. They might get suspicious if you ask for water and then to go to the restroom again so soon.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Everything okay in there?” asks the nurse. “You been in there for-”

As the words are leaving her lips, you can suddenly hear a loud beeping noise from down the hall. Your ears perk up at the sound.

“Oh, uh… anypony down there?” she calls down the hall. “Anypony!?”

You button up your vest as you hop off the toilet. Quietly as you can manage, you walk up to the door and put a waiting hoof on the handle.

“Listen, I’ll be right back!” the nurse says. “Don’t go anywhere, it’ll be just a moment!” Her final words losing volume as she makes a jog down the hall. As soon as you believe she’s around the corner, you open the door and walk out, heading the other direction.

You need to move slowly, but you force yourself to walk casually with no sign of injury. Act like you’re just visiting and walk out. Thankfully, your vest covers your stitches.

Following the signs labelling the exit, you feel the goal of freedom getting ever closer. As soon as you’re outside, you’re not sure what you’ll do. You don’t know if you can fly or run, but if you can hide in a bush or something, go from cover to cover to avoid the hospital staff, that’ll work for you. That’s something for when it happens, step one is getting there.

And soon you shall, as you see a door with a clearly labelled sign for stairs above it. Good thing you didn’t try the window, you must be at least a level or two above the ground. Hopefully less as going down so many flights of stairs makes your legs hurt just thinking about it. However, you continue unimpeded.

You reach out a hoof to push open the door. Only, the moment you do, you hear a faint whoosh and tingling sound of magic on the other side. Suddenly, the door opens.

And the doctor is standing there. He looks at you surprised as he holds a folder against his chest with his hoof.

“Hey, um… what are you doing all the way over here?” he asks.

“There you are,” says the nurse behind you, clearly annoyed.

Your ears fold back against your head.

~~~~~~

“Can’t we just tie him down!?” the nurse screams in frustration. You do feel a little bad that you’ve caused her so much grief from this morning to now.

You get up off your wheelchair and settle back into your bed after your fourth escape attempt.

“Afraid not,” says the doctor. “We can only restrain him if he’s a danger. He hasn’t acted violently at all.”

This is true. As soon as you’re caught you simply comply with them. It’s something that comes from when you messed up at work: do as you’re told and hope the consequences aren’t too terrible.

They’ve wised up to you using the heart monitor after the second time, but there were plenty of other machines by your bed that make loud beepy noises.

Speaking of the heart monitor, the nurse unbuttons your vest and puts the electrodes back on your chest.

“By the way, your bloodwork came back,” the nurse mentions. “Everything seems normal.” Her face gets a smirk. “But we just want to be sure,” she finishes.

You breathe a sigh through your nose. So you’re fine when it comes to your blood, but now they’re just going to keep the heart monitor on you to make sure you don’t go anywhere.

“And the xrays don’t show any sort of concussion or other injury,” the doctor says. “So as soon as you remember who you are, we’ll be able to let you go.”

The doctor offers an encouraging smile as the nurse gives you a suspicious glance. You give them both a nod and they walk out of the room. As soon as they do, you fall back onto your pillow and look at the ceiling.

You’re stuck. The windows are locked (turns out), the hall is full of staff, and they won’t let you go without a name. Anything you give them will probably be searched. Getting caught in a lie would be terrible. Giving them your real name would be even worse.

All the while, your boss probably has ponies looking for you right now. Surely getting angrier with every passing hour you don’t show back up.

What can you do? Putting your hooves over your face, you black out the world in an attempt to think of something, anything, that could get you out of here. Unfortunately, all that comes is the slow realization that there’s nothing you can do, short of waiting for a miracle.

“-you really sure?” you hear somepony say, walking up to outside your door. Looking over, you see it’s the white nurse again.

Somepony else is with them, but you can’t hear what they say.

“He could be dangerous. He’s been attempting to leave for the past two hours,” the nurse says.

You still can’t hear the words of the other pony, but you know they’re talking.

“Didn’t he try to leave once?” the nurse asks.

The other pony responds.

“But what if he does?”

Response.

“Oh…” the nurse says with a little chuckle. “Well, I guess that would work.” The nurse knocks on your door. “Hey there,” she says to you, a bit more cheerful than earlier.

As she walks in, the other pony follows her. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Hello,” Fluttershy says softly. “Are you feeling okay?”

You look down and slowly nod. Aside from the aching and your pressing need to leave, you certainly couldn’t complain. Certainly not to the mare you probably owe the fact you’re alive to.

“Are the staff nice?” she asks.

You nod again. They haven’t constrained you at all despite your efforts to escape and they had been very quick and courteous to get you something had you called for it.

“Are you still scared to be here?” she asks.

You pause for a moment. Then nod. There is definite fear of being here.

Fluttershy looks to the nurse who sighs. “Well… ask him,” she says with a sweep of her hoof. Ask you what?

Turning to you again, Fluttershy looks you in the eyes. “Would you like to leave here?”

Is this… actually a question? Hope restored, heart rising, you nod the most definitive and sure nod you’ve given today.

“Are you sure?” the nurse asks. “Leave all the ponies who can monitor you and help you if anything goes wrong?”

Pausing for a moment to lick your lips, you nod again. You do feel bad for everything you’ve done to them despite their care.

“Is there anything else that could be a problem?” Fluttershy asks the nurse.

The nurse puts a hoof around the back of her head. “To be honest, not that we can see. His blood test was clean and his xrays were fine. All that’s left is his memory.” She shakes her head. “But are you sure about this?”

Fluttershy nods. “If he’s scared here, then you probably shouldn’t keep him if there’s nothing else you can treat. And I’m sure he can start remembering better if he’s more comfortable.”

The nurse looks away, contemplating her words. Slowly, she begins nodding and then trots up to your bed. Switching off the heart monitor, she begins taking the electrodes off your chest.

“Very well, then. We’ll have to get the doctor’s final signature, but I believe that shouldn’t be a problem.” She goes over and brings the wheelchair back out for you.

You look with confusion between the other ponies in the room. Are you really getting to leave?

“Come on,” says the nurse, giving the wheelchair seat a little pat. “You’re going back to Fluttershy’s.”

Author's Note

Deciding to go ahead with this story. I never got anywhere second guessing myself. Although I must say, this one may turn out to be one of my longer running fics.

Thanks to Slashe and Eights for editing.

See you all again for something else in two weeks.