G.N.D: A My Little Dashie Sequel

Chapters

Feels like the First Time
Distractions
David
Headaches
Progress
The Artist
Complications
A Christmas Revelation
Motives & Priorities
Letting it out
Waking Up
Coming Home
Dealing with it
Getting Old
"Goodbye" or "A new beginning"
Acknoledgements & Author Notes
A Push in the Right Direction
The Other Side of the Coin

Feels like the First Time

“Today is a special day.” That’s all I can seem to think about. I mean, of course it is, I’m turning twenty today. But that doesn’t feel like it’s the cause of why today is going to be so special. It also doesn’t feel like it’s the flight show we’re going to see. I mean, that’s going to be awesome, but it just doesn’t seem…”big” enough. I don’t know, it just feels like something unexpected and life altering is around the corner but I can’t put my hoof on it. Whatever this “event” is though, it doesn’t matter; I have to get ready. I’m going to an air show with my dad.

Now I’ve seen airplanes before, but not like I’m going to be able to today. I’m going to have the best seat in the house. Everybody is going to have to sit in the grand stands, but not me. Nope, I get to sit up in the sky and see them up close and in action! For that reason, Dad wisely decided to invest in some heavy duty ear protection so I don’t go deaf from the roar of all those engines firing point blank at my ear drums. As I put the industrial-grade earmuffs inside my bag, there’s a knock on our front door. Nobody knocks on our door. Not a single visitor since we moved into the new house. This isn’t good! We didn’t even plan something for a situation like this!

Before I can do anything, Dad just calmly tells me to go to my room. I quickly fly up the stair well, bolt for my bedroom and lock my door behind me. For the next five minutes I keep my ear to the door trying to listen to the muffled voices coming from down stairs. I can’t understand a single word until Dad starts shouting. I have no idea who it could be, but it takes a lot to get a reaction like that from Dad. I should know; I’ve played countless pranks on him over the years. I know exactly where his line of tolerance is, and whoever it is down there just crossed it. And it takes something especially antagonizing to get him to that point.

I have no idea who it is down there: hikers, insurance salesmen, heck, maybe even cops. But if Dad has already blown his top, then he needs help.

“Dad? Is everything alright?”

The voices stop, I hear absolutely nothing. My face is flat against the door as I wait for a response. I know in reality it’s only been thirty seconds, but it feels like hours waiting for his reply.

“Dad?”

“Yeah Dashie, I’m coming up. We…” there’s a pause in his voice; he’s definitely shaken up. “…we need to talk.”

I unlock my door as I hear his footsteps on the stairs. I’m sitting on my bed as he walks through the door. I don’t think I have ever seen him look more serious. Not even on the day he told me the truth about where I came from. And that was as serious as I thought he could get. I can only begin to imagine, or maybe the better term would be dread, what could possibly have happened downstairs.

“Hey Dashie?”

“Yeah, Dad?”

“I don’t really know how to say this, but…we’re not going to the air show.”

“Okay,” I figured that, what I couldn’t figure out is why he couldn’t come out and tell me what was going on. After what happened under the tree, you’d think he could tell me anything. “Could you clue me in as to who’s downstairs?”

With this, Dad goes over to my widow and just stares out into space. This is definitely worse than when I got the truth. After a few minutes he faces me, it seems like the life is gone from his eyes.

“Dashie…I don’t know how to make the words come out…but it’s time. Your friends are here.”

I just sit there as I let this sink in. Then I double over in laughter at the obvious joke. Ha! Like they’d actually be here! My sides hurt and I’m having trouble catching my breath by the time I can finally respond.

“Ha ha…whew! Good one, Dad! You had me going there!” I wipe a tear from my eye as I try to catch my breath, “Now, seriously; who’s downstairs?”

His expression remains the same. The smile on my face gradually fades as I realize he isn’t joking. He’s actually serious. I hop off my bed and go for the stairs. I can hear Dad right behind me, trying to keep up with my pace. This can’t be happening, this has to be a joke; a sick, twisted joke. It’s been fifteen years! I haven’t seen one piece of evidence suggesting any other ponies exist outside the show! As I turn the corner my disbelief turns to shock. They’re real, all of them. And they’re sitting in my living room. You could cut the tension with a knife. Before anyone can break the silence, it’s shattered by a loud-”

“DASHIE!”

My eyes shoot open upon hearing my name. I can tell the voice belongs to Pinkie Pie, who else would call me “Dashie?” Well…that guy in my dream did; who was he? Dang it, I only just woke up and I’m already forgetting. Eh, it’s not like it was important anyway. Dreams are just dreams.

“RISE AND SHINE!”

Speaking of, I still wish I was dreaming. Despite having one of the comfier beds in Ponyville I still feel tired. And that overly enthusiastic screaming is doing wonders for my motivation. I decide to pretend I didn’t hear anything and just pull the blankets over my head. Ah, sweet slumber.

“I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE!”

Well that destroys any chance I had. I just know I’m a few seconds away from Pinkie Pie busting through my door or something worse. Hoping to avoid this, I groggily make my way towards my window. As I arrive and look out, I see a rather odd device being set up by Pinkie. I see speakers, air horns and other obnoxious noise making devices. That’s definitely “worse.”

“I’m up! I’m up, I’m up. What is it, Pinkie?” I have a newfound alertness from the adrenaline now coursing through my system.

“Took you long enough! And I had just hooked up the sound system too. Oh well!”

I rub the fatigue from my eyes as Pinkie starts dismantling her complicated noise maker. Just how did she lug all that equipment out here?

“I just thought I’d make sure you didn’t sleep through the whole morning.”

“What are you talking about Pinkie? It’s not that-“ I drop the last word as I take notice of the sun’s position in the sky. It’s late morning, really late morning. Oh, am I gonna get it! I’ve been late before, but never this late! I can only imagine all the complaints that will soon spill into the weather office about “punctuality,” and “professional responsibility.” But not from the residents, no; they don’t really care so long as things are done. No, I’m going to have to answer to her. That’s always so much fun.

I rush into my bathroom, try to do something with my bed-head, jam a tooth brush in my mouth, then rinse and spit. Satisfied with my semi-presentable appearance, I rush to my kitchen, grab for whatever foodstuff is closest, and bolt for the door. As I burst out the door, I can see Pinkie is almost finished putting away her contraption. Where does she put it all? It doesn't matter how she does it, I'm just glad she did me this favor. I just may be able to get out of this if I hurry.

“Thanks Pinkie!” I barely manage to get out before I dash away.

I turn and look over my shoulder to see her waving goodbye as she shrinks into the distance. The trees are varying blurs of green as I make my way to Ponyville. Now usually I could fly slower and take in all the vibrant colors of the houses and the numerous ponies that are going about their day. Unfortunately I just don’t have the time. As I fly right above the market place, a familiar sound reaches my ears. I’m not sure, but I think I hear…cheering? Sure enough, as I slow down and look below me, everypony is cheering and waving at me. Now I know I’m the most awesome pony in town, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen them cheer like this unless I was participating in some sort of competition. And they are getting very enthusiastic. As much as I would love to give them a show, I need to hurry up and get to work!

As I land in front of the Ponyville Weather Department, I brace myself for all the whining and criticism that most likely awaits me. I just know some cloud wasn’t in just the right spot, or somepony decided we needed a morning shower without my consent. I swing open the doors and start spewing my excuse.

“Good morning guys. Sorry I’m so late, I had a rough night. I’ll make sure I’m here earlier…tomorrow.” Everypony is staring at me, their jaws hanging from their skulls.

“What? Is my mane a wreck? Do I have something on my face?”

I just stand there waiting for the crowd to snap out of it. While everypony is still trying to collect themselves, a blonde maned, periwinkle coated pegasi approaches me with a scowl on her face. Her name is Cloud Kicker and she is one of the more pleasant, and helpful ponies in the weather patrol. She not only writes up the daily schedule, but enthusiastically enforces it. So Celestia forbid you forget to do something or, in my case, show up late. I braced myself for the coming hurricane.

“Where the hay have you been?! Do you have any idea how far behind we are?! And just what kind of manager decides to take a vacation one day, just right out of the blue, and doesn’t even tell her weather team about it?!”

Vacation? Ha, that’s a good one. Four hours late and I’m on vacation. I can only imagine what taking off the whole day equates too.

“Alright, I get it. I’m sorry. Can you give me my schedule now?”

Cloud spends the next few agonizing moments just staring at me. Anger and annoyance is plastered all over her muzzle, but eventually she just rolls her eyes and sighs.

“Fine,” Her face and body visibly relax, and she unfurls her left wing to pull out a clipboard tucked underneath it. She waves a hoof to indicate that I should follow her, and then begins walking towards one of the hallways. I quickly fall in step beside her.

“We need to get the rain schedule from the Storm Committee, and then you need to fill out some paper work for the Equestrian Weather Bureau-as if they haven’t waited long enough already…”

Over the course of working with Cloud Kicker, I have mastered the art of tuning out her voice. She likes to ramble and she always has something to criticize. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she keeps us all on task, but she just goes on and on and on. The words keep flowing as we walk down the hallway. Every pony we pass either has the same shocked expression as before, or they have this weird grin on their muzzle. A few of the more friendly members of the team greets me with a “Welcome back.” Nice, they’re all in on it. It’s so funny I forgot to laugh. As if I could; I’m still exhausted. What was I doing last night?

Eventually we reach the end of the hallway, the doors of the committee room before us. I just stand there, waiting for Cloud to finally finish talking. I just keep silent and nod my head when I’m supposed to.

“…and that’s just the least of our-have you listened to a single thing I said?”

I just nod, hoping she buys it.

“What was the last thing you heard?”

“Um…Storm committee?”

She facehoofs and sighs. “Okay. Here’s all you have to worry about today: rain schedule; report to the Weather Bureau, cloud wrangling. Got that?”

“Hmm…could you say it one more time?”

With a roll of the eyes she just leaves me standing there, a smirk on my face. With a small chuckle I open the doors and my eyes are met by pure chaos. Ponies are shouting and cursing at each other from across the room, throwing stacks of paper and pens at each other; multiple pairs of stallions are at each other’s throats and wrestling on the floor; and a small group of the more timid committee members are huddled under the main conference table, waiting out the storm.

Now I’m the head of this committee, and if word got out about this I’d never be able to walk in here with my head held high. They have warranted my upmost wrath.

Expelling all the air from my lungs, I bellow “Alright you overgrown foals! Break it up!”

A pause comes over the room; looks of shock are on everyponys’ face as they stare in my direction. The group that was hiding under the conference table slowly comes out.

“I don’t know how this all started, but I’m ending it! I will not have my committee fighting like a bunch of three-year old foals! I don’t care about your excuses, this ends now! We are a team, and by Celestia we are going to act like it!”

With this they all hang their heads, expressions of shame spread out across the room. I give a large sigh as I switch tactics.

“I’m going to pretend I never saw that petty display. So just pick up this mess and take your seats. We have a rain schedule to make.”

Within minutes, the room is just the way the janitors had left it: spic and span. It’s like the fracas from before had never happened. This carries over to our meeting. Yes, a few disgruntled members try to start an argument, but I take care of them before anything can happen. After three hours, we manage to finish the storm schedule for the next three months. As we clear out, everypony is back to their usual, friendly selves. Why it only took them four hours without me to go completely crazy is beyond me. I groan as I head to my office to perform my next task: filling out that report to the Weather Bureau.

Although I hate bureaucracy-the tedious task of having to fill out a wad of papers with layers upon layers of redundancy-it’s actually relaxing today. My mind just goes blank and I forget about the numerous forms and reports in front of me, I forget about the Storm Committee, and, most importantly, I forget about Cloud Kicker’s unending list of complaints. After I finish crossing the last “t” and dotting the last “i”, I double-check the whole stack to make I didn’t forget anything, sign it, date it, and put it in the mailbox.

With the boring stuff now out of the way, I can finally get to the most anticipated job on my list. I know it seems silly, finding so much enjoyment in such a mundane task, but I just can’t help but feel myself unwind whenever I start pulverizing a bunch of clouds. I don’t know if it’s because I actually get to clobber something without reproach, or whether I just like being able to move after being stuck in the office for more than four hours at a time. Whatever the reason, I already feel rejuvenated as I make my way for the door.

Fresh air and a sunny sky greet my senses as I walk out of the Weather Office. There’s a gentle breeze, the leaves on the trees sway back and forth in time with the tempo of the wind. The clouds-despite their guaranteed destruction-add onto the atmosphere by casting their unique shadows, the various patches of shade offering some contrast to the bright hues of the buildings. Despite this, Celestia’s Sun continues to enhance every color that meets my eye; Ponyville easily rivals my own colorful mane. It’s a good day to fly.

I take it slow as I take off from the ground, don’t know why, I just feel like it today. As I fly over town I can’t help but marvel at the sight below me. I know I’ve seen it hundreds of times, and yet…I don’t know; for some odd reason it feels like it’s the first time in a long time that I’ve seen it. Whatever feelings of marvel I have disappear from my mind as a lone cloud enters my field of vision; my first victim. I put on speed as the distance between me and my target drastically reduces. I ram through the cloud, bits of fluff falling out of my mane as I continue to pick up speed. Coincidentally, with the way they’re spaced, the various clouds hovering over Ponyville look like a racing course. Bring it on!

Oh yes, this is awesome! It feels like I haven’t gone so fast in forever! As I punch through cloud after cloud, my smile continues to widen. This is why I like cloud wrangling so much. Not because I get to obliterate piles of fluff, not because I finally get to flex my wings, but because it’s one of the few jobs where I can really go fast! As I take out the final cloud, I just continue to increase my speed. I pull up into the higher levels of the sky; barely any traffic or clouds to get in my way. I start pulling out every flight trick in my book, turning and twisting across the sky. I do loops, barrel rolls, my “Filly Flash,” and my “Buccaneer Blaze.” I think about doing a Sonic Rainboom, but those are more for competitions and special occasions. Besides, I already feel fatigued from this most recent performance. And I have finished the last thing on my list for today. I think I’ve earned a nap.

Since I came to Ponyville, I have become very good at finding the best places to take a nap. Granted, anywhere can be a place to nap when you have a cloud, but I prefer to have something sturdier underneath me. And besides, I just demolished every cloud within the radius of Ponyville; I’m not putting in extra effort to find a cloud when I have plenty other places available to me. Out of all the places to take a nap, trees would have to be my favorite. Not just any tree, of course, I always make sure the limb is solid and it’s wide enough so I don’t immediately fall off. But just having that natural canopy above you and still retaining the ability to be suspended in the air, it just feels more natural to me. Plus, I hear plenty of gossip as everypony walks under me, completely oblivious to my presence. Oh, the secrets I could tell.

I have two main locations with suitable trees for napping. One is the park; the other is Sweet Apple Acres. The park trees have thinner limbs, but I definitely hear a lot more interesting tidbits of conversation. And likewise, Sweet Apple Acres, although not as abundant in juicy gossip, definitely has the better trees. And since they’re having a concert in the park today, it looks like I’m going for quality over amusement. Which works out for the better anyway, I’m still tired. Not just from my display, but I just can’t seem to shake the earlier exhaustion from this morning. Plus I have a slight migraine, but that’s probably just from listening to Cloud Kicker.

As I fly over the Apple orchards I can see Applejack and Big Mac bucking trees left and right. From what I can see, they’ve already cleared out the section closest to the main barn. And that’s just perfect. I have a secret spot in the barn loft where I keep my pillow. I have a similar hiding place atop the gazebo in the park. So now I don’t only have the benefit of a shorter flight, but I also don’t have to worry about getting bucked out of a tree. I hope this streak of luck continues and I get a cooler dream than I had this morning.

I find a tree that’s close enough to hear anypony talking by the barn, but far away enough that nopony could spot me directly. As I prop my pillow up against a branch, I feel a wave of fatigue come over me. I get myself secured and close my eyes, waiting for the rejuvenating power of sleep to wash over me.

This is the day! It may have taken me two hundred and forty-seven tries, but today is the day I finally fly! I’ve gotten really good at climbing up the tree I use as my launch pad… and I’ve gotten used to hitting the sand below me from all my failed attempts in the past. But every bump, every cut, every band-aid will be behind me after today!

Daddy is sitting on a bench across the park, offering words of encouragement. I can’t wait to see his eyes pop out once he sees me fly. I make my climb up to my launch pad and go over my checklist.

Wings? I give them a flap; there are a few bruises, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Check.

Wind? I feel a slight breeze but it shouldn’t give me trouble. Check.

Attitude? I am awesome. I am a great flyer. I am going to fly! Check!

I put all thoughts out of my head as I prepare for lucky number two hundred forty-eight. It is just me and the sky, nothing else exists. I scrunch into a ball, turning my legs into springs. I wait a few seconds while psyching myself up, and then I launch myself off the branch into the wild blue yonder! I’m flapping my wings as hard as I can; I’m staying in the air. I’m doing it! I’m flying! I’m actually-oh no. No. No! I start falling towards the ground. I try to make a good landing, but that’s hard when you’re falling like a rock. A great, big, dumb rock.

As I hit the sand, I feel pain spread out all over me. I just lay there for a few seconds until it passes. I try to get up, but I just can’t. I’m fine, but I just don’t want to do it anymore.

“You alright, Dashie?” Nope. Not at all. I just failed for the eighth time today.

“Yeah, I’m alright Daddy.” On the outside that is. I feel really bad on the inside. I’ve been trying to fly for months now, and all I’ve been able to do is fall out of that dumb tree! I thought I would at least be able to fly a few feet, but no, all I can do is fall, fall, fall!

“I think I’m ready to go home, Daddy.”

“Are you sure? It’s not even close to lunchtime yet.”

“I’m ready, Daddy. I want to go home.”

He gets up from the bench and he starts walking over to me. I pick my stupid body out of the sand and join him by his side. Now comes the part I hate; that stupid dog costume. It itches really badly and it smells funny. Daddy washes it, but it still smells funny anyway. And I look so stupid with those floppy ears and that skinny tail. I don’t know what the costume people were thinkin’, but this looks nothing like a dog. I’ve seen dogs; either out the window or on the TV. And all of them don’t look nearly as dumb as I do. But I may as well wear it; it matches my feelings right now.

All those books Daddy read, all those boring nature shows, two hundred and forty-eight jumps off that dumb tree and I’m no closer to flying than when I started. My head droops and stays that way the whole walk back to the house. I finally get to take the stupid costume off once we walk through the door. I’ve asked Daddy hundreds of times why I have to keep wearing it, but all he says is “You can stop wearing it once to learn how to fly.” I’m feeling really bad now. Maybe Spongebob is on, I know that will make me happy. I switch on the TV and you know what I see? Dumb “Dora the Explorer!” Can nothing go right today?

I turn off the TV and jump up into my chair. I cross my forelegs and pout. Why can’t I just glide? If I could do that I could figure the rest out. I mean, I’ve tried, but that just ends up the same old way. Maybe I should just give up, wait ‘til I’m bigger. But I really want to fly! Why do I want it so badly if I’m such a stinky flyer? While I argue with myself, I close my eyes and feel myself start falling asleep.

“Dashie!”

“Five more minutes…” I wave him off…wherever he is.

“Dashie, it’s dinnertime.”

Dinner?! How long was I sleeping? Why didn’t he wake me up for lunch? Darn it! We we’re supposed to have mac and cheese today; that’s my favorite. Today has been a really bad day. I put my head in my hooves as I sit down at the table. Daddy turns around from the stove and sees me moping.

“What’s the matter, honey?”

“I just had a bad day.”

“Ah, I see.” He grabs two plates from the cupboard and fills them with whatever we’re having for dinner tonight. I just keep staring at the empty place where my plate is going to be. “Maybe this will cheer you up.”

There, right in front of me, is a big plate full of mac and cheese. A big plate! With mac and cheese! This never happens!

“Really?”

With a simple nod, Daddy just says “Really. You missed lunch, plus I think you could use a pick-me up.”

As I scoop the awesome food into my mouth, I ask “Pick-me up? I don’t need to be picked up.”

“No, Dashie,” Daddy sets his plate on the table along with two glasses of water. “You don’t actually pick someone up when you give them a ‘pick-me up.’”

“Zen washt it mean?” I’m careful not to let any of the noodles fall out of my mouth.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” I take a big gulp to clear my mouth for more, “A pick-me up is when you do something to make somebody feel better.”

“Like when you make them mac and cheese?”

“Yeah, or cheer them on when they’re down in the dumps. Like a certain someone who’s been trying like crazy to fly. Don’t think I didn’t see your head was drooped the whole walk back.”

I stop eating and put my fork down. How did he know?

“Dashie, I know it’s been really hard and I haven’t done the best I can to teach you, but you don’t how proud I am every time you get up, brush yourself off and try again. So just keep trying. You’ll get it eventually.”

That’s the best thing I’ve heard today. I jump out of my seat to run over a give him a hug.

“Thank you Daddy; for the pick-me up.”

“No problem, Dashie. No problem at all. I love you very much.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”

“I love you too, Daddy…”

The sudden appearance of the voice gave Applejack a start. As she looked up, she saw a napping Rainbow Dash, mumbling incoherently as she rolled over on the tree branch.

“Sure, I have room for dessert.”

What in tarnation is she dreaming about?

Seeing as how Celestia’s sun was sinking into the horizon, Applejack decided to deliver a swift kick to the tree in order to wake the sleeping Pegasus. As she had expected, Rainbow fell out and hit the ground with a thud. Although it wasn’t necessarily the nicest way to wake a pony up, it certainly was the funniest.

“Alright! Who’s the joker who did that?! Come on, let’s go!”

Although Rainbow Dash was ready to go, she was facing the wrong way. At this sight, Applejack couldn’t help but laugh. With a look of chagrin on her face, Rainbow started taking inventory, checking for any noticeable injuries.

“Ha ha, very funny. Thanks for giving me a bruise.”

“Well, I thought you might want to go sleep in your nice warm bed ‘stead of in a wide open tree.”

“Now why would I want to move-“ As she took notice of the sun’s position, Rainbow Dash facehoofed. “Not again! That’s twice today!”

“Are you that tired, Dash? What have you been doin’?”

“Nothing, just had a rough night last night. I had a weird dream.”

“You don’t say,” Applejack leaned against a tree, rubbing an apple on her coat. “What was it about?”

“Well, I don’t really remember. But I do know I was there along with this weird guy.”

Applejack stopped midway from taking a bite. “Weird guy?”

“Yeah, and he was in that other dream too. You know, the one you so kindly woke me from?”

“Uh-huh,” Applejack put the apple down and stood up straight, this was important. “What happened in that one?”

“Well,” Rainbow Dash tried to continue, but the words just wouldn’t come out. She rapped her head trying to will the dream back into existence, but to no avail. “Dang it! How could I have forgotten already?!”

That was a good thing, if Applejack’s suspicions were correct. “Do you remember what he looked like?” with a sly smile she continued, “Was he a handsome stallion?”

“No, he wasn’t a stallion; wasn’t even a pony. He looked more like a monkey. Except he had less hair, was a lot taller, and he could talk. He seemed really familiar, but I don’t remember ever seeing something like him.”

Her suspicions were confirmed; Rainbow’s description matched the image Applejack had in her head. Rainbow was remembering. That wasn’t supposed to be happening yet. However, before Applejack could continue asking questions, Rainbow Dash put a hoof to her head and winced.

“You alright, Dash?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a headache. Probably from getting knocked out of a tree.”

“Right, sorry ‘bout that. Alright, well I think you should head on home. I hope your head feels better. G’night Rainbow.”

“G’night Applejack, see you tomorrow.”

Applejack continued to wave until Rainbow Dash had disappeared from view. This wasn’t good. She wasn’t supposed to be having any memory of what had happened. Not this early, not like Twilight said she would. Despite the fading sunlight, Applejack needed to report on this new development. With concern and a head full of unanswered questions, Applejack started walking towards Ponyville.

After a nice, casual, evening stroll, Applejack had arrived at the Library. The sun had gone down completely, Luna’s moon casting an ethereal glow on all the buildings, giving life to the numerous shadows that inhabited the night. As she knocked on the door, Applejack tried to compile a list of questions in her head. Hopefully, Twilight could give her some answers. Otherwise, this was going to get much more complicated than it already was. After a couple minutes, Spike answered the door.

“Oh hi, Applejack!”

“Evenin’ Spike. May I come in? I have something I need to tell Twilight.”

“She’s just upstairs; I’ll let her know you’re here.”

“Oh, that’s okay Spike. I’ll just go up to her.”

With a shrug of his shoulders Spike closed the door behind Applejack. As she climbed the steps, Applejack couldn’t help but start worrying. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be going. Twilight had told her she wouldn’t start remembering so soon.

Twilight was oblivious to Applejack’s appearance; her nose was buried in a very thick book. In fact, there were several stacks of thick books piled around her desk. She was in for the long haul.

“Whatcha readin’ there, Twilght?”

She gave a little jump, and then she breathed a sigh of relief. “You scared me, Applejack.”

“Sorry, I thought you heard me come up.”

“I’m reading a book on magical manipulation of the brain. I was hoping it could shed some light on our current situation.”

“Has it?” Applejack waited anxiously, hoping she would hear a “yes.”

“Unfortunately, no. All this book covers is possible forms of mind control and how to magically make yourself smarter. Nothing in here about memories or multiple personas. Why do you ask?”

With this Applejack’s ears drooped and her expression soured. This was not going the way she had hoped it would.

“Because Twilight, I had a talk with Rainbow Dash this evenin’ about some dreams she had today. In both of them, she had a familiar lookin’ guest. She’s remembering, Twilight. She’s remembering her Dad and her life on Earth.”

With this news, Twilight began to freak out.

“What?! But that’s not possible! I should have had at least a couple of weeks before we would even have to worry about something like this! She can’t be reverting this rapidly!”

Twilight began to nibble on the tip of her hoof. She started theorizing about how the regression had come about and what this now meant. She obviously didn’t have a few months anymore. At best she had a few weeks before something bad could happen. And the worst part was she had no idea what was causing it or how far it could go. This was something entirely new; nopony in the history of Equestria had ever had two separate sets of memories; two different lives; two versions of the same pony in their head.

“Twilight! Calm down now. You can figure it out. Did you tell the Princess ‘bout this yet?”
Slightly regaining her composure, Twilight answered her concerned, yet collected friend.

“Yes, I sent her a letter last night explaining what happened. She replied and told me she’s getting the best minds in Canterlot working on this problem. But I don’t know how long it’s going to take to summon them or for them to mobilize. That’s why I’m doing what I can here.”

As Twilight took the next tome from the pile nearest to her, Applejack began to pace.

“I don’t like this Twilight. It just doesn’t seem right. Why can’t we tell her the truth?”

“You know very well why, Applejack. You remember what happened yesterday when we got back.”

That she did. They had only just come back from Earth before Rainbow Dash had started complaining about headaches. For that reason, while everypony else went about their business, Applejack and Twilight stayed by Rainbow’s side to make sure nothing bad would happen. Twilight, because she had used the memory spell and was the one most likely able to do something in the event something did happen; and Applejack because, well, if Rainbow passed out they would need a strong back to carry her on.

They had taken the scenic route to Rainbow’s cloud castle, trying to avoid any public contact until Rainbow could readjust. Unfortunately, they were nowhere near their destination when it happened. It started with a really bad headache; Rainbow had been holding her head and moaning. As the two mares tried to help, their friend collapsed on the ground, unconscious. Seconds later, she started having a seizure. As both mares frantically tried to come up with a solution, Rainbow’s body had stopped seizing. But her chest had stopped rising as well. As Applejack tried to get the air flowing again, Twilight used another spell on Rainbow. Thankfully, only a few agonizing seconds passed before Rainbow started breathing again.

“What did you do?”

“I…I think I just separated her memories.”

“What?!”

“I don’t know! I just think Rainbow and Dashie are separate again! It worked, didn’t it?!” She had a point, but that still seemed extreme despite the current circumstances.

“Well what does that mean?” exasperated, Applejack continued to attend to her unconscious friend. “Does that mean she won’t ever remember Earth again?”

“No! No, thank goodness no. I think I’ve just built a wall. And now the Earth memories are separated from the rest. I think it might have stopped the problem. I don’t think it will last, but it should give me enough time to figure out how to fix this.”

That’s what she had been told. That’s what she thought was going to happen. But now after only one day, Rainbow was far further in regressing than Twilight had predicted. So now Applejack had a friend who not only had no recollection of where she had been or who she had been with for the last fifteen years, but now that same friend had something going on in her head that could do far more damage than any pony could fix.

“What happened Twilight? I thought you was gonna make it so that she could have both sets of memories?”

“I did; at least I thought I did. I thought I had put them together. I don’t know why it didn’t work. It should have.”

“Then what’s the problem? Why can’t we fix this?”

“Because Applejack,” she said as she passed a hoof through her mane, “Magic, no matter how hard you practice, no matter how hard you concentrate, is never an exact science. Especially when applied to the mind of a pony. This is far more complex than I ever thought it would be. I could have made a mistake or Rainbow’s mind didn’t want to change. I just have no clue.”

She closed the book lying on her desk and turned to face her friend, “That’s why until I know how to fix this, we need to stay quiet. I have no idea what would happen if she found out. It might make it better, or it could make it worse. Unless I know it’s going to do more good than harm, I just can’t take that chance.”

“I can understand that.” She turned and headed for the steps.

“But,” she paused, casting a conflicted expression towards Twilight, “She’s gonna find out one way or another, and when she comes lookin’ for answers-‘cause you know she will-I wouldn’t think twice about spilling the beans; even if it’d do more harm than good. Get my drift?”

A simple nod was her reply.

“Alrighty then. Good luck, Twilight. I hope you and all them other eggheads can figure out how to fix this.” As Applejack made her way out, Twilight turned back to her books, resuming her search for answers.

I hope so too, AJ. I hope so too.

Distractions

It’s been four weeks. Four weeks and I can’t seem to make any progress; not even the slightest. I’m still immovably miserable. I realize this is not supposed to be an overnight process, but I would like to be able to have at least one moment of my day where I can be happy. Every day, every hour, every freaking minute I’m caught up on Dashie. No matter what I do, I just can’t seem to find a moment where she doesn’t fill my thoughts. Don’t get me wrong, I love my daughter and I would never want to stop thinking about her; it’s just it seems that’s all I can do.

I can’t get over the fact she’s gone. I’d expect some sort of acceptance-however begrudgingly-and yet the only difference between the me three days after she left and the me now, is that now I can’t sit on my ass and cry my heart out. I’m stuck, and I’m sick and tired of it. I have tried to get out of this. I have read dozens of self-help books; I’ve listened to hundreds of lectures online, hell, I even resorted to watching Dr. Phil. And yet none of this seems to help. I know what I have to do-I better after taking in all that therapy crap-but it just hasn’t been working. Most of my sources all seem to agree on one thing: finding a distraction; something to occupy your time and your mind.

At first, I thought about going back to regular gaming. So I played the latest Call of Duty; I failed miserably. Now, nothing was wrong with my skills; I’ve kept up on my technique and I have some idea of strategy. The guys I played with were idiots; they had no idea how to play it right. Their plan was to camp and pick off whoever was stupid enough not to notice them. They were easily sniped, and I was left holding the bag. With those idiots camping in that obvious spot, that left most of our opposition free to hunt me down. Granted, there were a few other guys, but they went the lone-wolf approach. I can only imagine their frustration as they were repeatedly gunned down from behind. So after two hours of being humiliated, I switched the damn TV off. Dashie and I always had each other’s backs. She’d take point, I’d watch our six. We very rarely got caught in a bad situation. But she’s not here anymore.

After that disappointment, I thought I would try TF2; same problem. Not only were the medics complete idiots, our spies were horrible. They had no idea what they were doing. One actually went after a target right in the general vicinity of a pyro. Sure, he got his kill, and then was flayed alive soon afterwards. Now my specialty is artillery with the demoman. All it takes is the right trajectory and I’m golden. However, back when I was improving on my technique, with my face aimed high at the sky, I would always run into the same problem: a knife in my back. So, after investing in a keyboard with gigantic keys, Dashie opted to be a pyro, my escort. We were awesome together: she kept the knives out of my back; I took out potential threats before they even knew we existed. Together, we were as good as a sentry, especially if an engineer erected a dispenser to keep us in business.

But those days are gone. I’ve lost my partner and I don’t have the desire to find a new one. So far, the only thing I have found that is able to keep my mind off of Dashie and my depression is work. Back then, before we moved, I was the cashier for the local 7/11. But then when we got the new house I got myself a real job. Yes, I’m the guy who fills out those never-ending forms and sits behind a desk all day. I wake up at seven, spend an hour listening to the radio as I make my commute, and then my workday starts as I begin looking over all the paperwork. How I have come to love the paperwork, that glorious bureaucracy. It is so time consuming, so mind-numbing, I almost forget about the pain in my heart. Eight wonderful hours of distraction from my sorrows. That is, until the work day ends.

My nights are awful, the weekends are worse. Why? Because I’m all alone in that cold, dark house, with only a book full of memories to pass the time. I don’t watch TV anymore; I have no interest in the world outside. All I care about is my album and the pictures inside. That wonderful, heart-lifting…depressing, gut-wrenching, album. I hate that album now. I no longer remember all the happy times, I merely mourn the fact I have no new pictures to add. Now the album only serves to remind me my daughter is gone and my life is in shambles. But that’s just the depression talking; it has to be the depression talking. I love Dashie, and I love her final gift to me. I’m lucky I actually have this last token of love. This album is the only thing keeping me sane. I despise it and wish it were gone, but at the same time I couldn’t think about living without it.

When I reach this internal confliction on what seems to be every Saturday afternoon, I take a walk. I’ve gone back to my old habit, even though it doesn’t help. I still think about Dashie as I watch the grass continue to grow more and more with each passing day. I just stare at the meadow outside the forest, waiting, hoping for some animal to come by and grab my attention. But it never happens, and I just continue my walk, going into the forest. I spend hours sitting under the Tree. I don’t cry, I don’t curse my misfortune; I don’t do anything. I’m just empty on the inside; waiting for something to come along and snap me out of this funk I’m in. But nothing happens, and I just sit there until the sun sinks below the horizon. I don’t see its beauty anymore; it’s just harsh light in my eyes. As the orange twilight gives way to the purple night, I return home and get ready for bed. Every night it’s the same thing: I just stare at the ceiling, my mind filled with thoughts of my daughter. Thankfully, with my age, it only takes about an hour before sleep takes me. Any dreams I may have leave me with feelings of depression and remorse, even if they were happy. In no time at all the alarm goes off and I begin the cycle all over again.

At this point in time, I was desperate. I was willing to try anything if it could take my mind off of Dashie. That day, as I sat in my office, continuing my mundane task, I couldn’t help but reflect on my situation and how pitiful it was. I checked the clock on my office wall; half-past noon. Perhaps some lunch would clear my head and it would stay that way. As I made my way to the break room, I passed our bulletin board. Fliers for local events and charities were always being posted; I never took any notice of it. And yet I finally took a look at it today. It didn’t take much to figure out why I had noticed it in the first place. Among the various ads for fish-fries and town meetings was a cyan flier. Now while the color was enough to get me to look in that direction, it was the title that really grabbed me.

“WE NEED YOU!”

Granted, at least two thirds of the various papers posted on the board had the exact same title. But so long as it had my attention, I thought I may as well read it.

WE NEED YOU!

Are you looking to give back to the community?

Do you enjoy donating your time to others?

Do you like helping others develop into their full potential?

Do you like working with kids?”

At this point I was seriously considering just moving on and getting my lunch. But surprisingly, it got better after that.

Then go work at a day-care with the rest of the weak sauce.

What we’re asking you to do is far more challenging!

There are dozens of kids in the City Orphanage looking for role-models!

We’re asking you to come in and show some child how to be a man! (Or woman, if that’s the case.)

This program is not for wimps! Your patience WILL be tested! Your mental and physical limits will be STRETCHED! Any time you thought you had to yourself will DISAPPEAR! Your very EXISTENCE will be brought into question!

WE NEED YOU! TO BE A BIG BROTHER!” …or sister, if that’s the case!

Yes, it was stupid and yes, they were over selling it. But, I couldn’t care less. After weeks of doing nothing except think of Dashie, and after failing to find a suitable distraction outside of work, I figured this was as good a thing as any. Plus, it was the first thing in a long time that has gotten me to crack a smile. I took one of the call stubs from the bottom, putting it casually into my pocket as I made my way towards the break room for lunch.

When I got home, I was immediately hit by a wave of depression. This has been a regular occurrence; I could set my watch by it. After scarfing down a Hot Pocket, I took my place on the couch and started flipping through the album again. I don’t see why I keep doing this; I’ve seen the pictures so many times that I see them when I close my eyes. Perhaps it’s just so I have something, some ritual, to keep me anchored in reality. Why do I keep this up? Why is this the thing that helps me cope?

I suddenly remembered the call stub in my pocket. It was all crumpled, but the bold font made the number stand out amongst the folds and wrinkles. I just stared at the stub for awhile, my mind somewhere else. That was it. If just looking at the stub could distract me, I could only imagine what this job could do. I whipped out my phone and called the place.

“City Orphanage for the Unfortunately Misplaced, how can I help you?”

“Ah yes, I was calling about the…” It took a few seconds trying to recall the text from the poster, but it came to me, “…the “Big Brother” program?”

“Oh! Well let me transfer you to our director of voluntary services!”

Instead of hold music, I merely heard whoever it was on the other end humming the Blue Danube. After a few seconds, my ears were blasted by a loud voice.

“HELLO! YOU’RE CALLING ABOUT THE BIG BROTHER PROGRAM!?

This second guy who answered sounded just like the poster. Despite the cheesiness of his voice, I gave him my full attention. For a full ten minutes we went back and forth; he would ask a question and I would give a simple “yes.” He got repetitive towards the end.

“SO YOU REALLY THINK YOU GOT WHAT IT TAKES?!”

I pulled the phone away from my ear for what had to be the ninth time during our conversation. “Yes.”

“EVEN IF IT TAKES YOU TO YOUR LIMITS AND SMASHES THEM TO BITS?!”

“Yes.” What was with this guy? He sounded like Iron Will, except he was far more annoying.

“YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY SURE YOU CAN HANDLE ANYTHING WE CAN THROW AT YOU?!”

For what felt to be the hundredth time: “Yes.”

“ALRIGHT THEN! Come down to the office and I’ll get you the paperwork.”

That was the only time he sounded remotely normal. Interestingly, he sounded just like the first guy I talked to. That and the improvised Muzak confirmed my suspicions: it was the same guy. But I didn’t care, I was just glad the call had taken a whole half-hour out of my night. Despite the urge, I didn’t go back to reading the album. Instead, I skipped to getting ready to go to sleep.

After taking a shower, brushing my teeth, and putting on a pair of pajamas-they were a Father’s day gift-I just laid there in bed, staring at the ceiling. For the first time this evening, I actually started thinking about whether this “Big brother” thing was actually a good idea. This was a commitment, one that was going to require a lot of time and energy. Not to mention I didn’t really consider my availability and, from the flier and the phone call, the whole thing seemed utterly ridiculous. But then my mind started drifting towards Dashie and all those memories…

Yes, this was definitely a good idea. Anything was a good idea if it could finally get my mind off of Dashie. The next day, during my lunch break, I stopped by the orphanage to fill out my paperwork. The place wasn’t necessarily in the best condition, but compared to some of the other surrounding buildings, it certainly wasn’t the worst. My guess was that it had been built in the ‘60s. As I walked through the door, my suspicions were confirmed. Old black-and-white checkered tile floor, peeling floral wall paper, and rusty radiators all over the place; thankfully they did have regular AC, the radiators were probably for display. Whatever money they got, it certainly wasn’t going towards improving upon their residence.

The only person I saw was this buff guy sitting behind a desk, mulling over what looked like to be expense reports. Yes, I could actually tell they were expense reports from where I was standing. His suppressed look of frustration was the telltale sign.

As I made my way to desk, he finally looked up to greet me.

“AH! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO CALLED LAST NIGHT, I TAKE IT?!

It was the guy. He actually looked just like he sounded. Despite being middle aged, he was rather cut. He probably had the thickest neck I have ever seen, you could see the bulging veins going up and down his ripped arms and, to complete the look, he was wearing a tank top and a crew cut. He looked like he belonged in a security detail, not behind a desk. But it didn’t really matter though; he probably knew what he was doing.

“Yep, that’s me.”

“WONDERFUL!” I winced as my ears rang from the concussive force of his voice. “HERE’S YOUR FORMS!”

With a wide smile on his face, he handed me my paperwork. He just stared at me with that creepy grin as I stood on the other side of the desk, filling out the various forms. After I finished filling everything out, he took out a small ink case and took my fingerprints, then he had me stand up against the wall and he took my picture. Once we were finished with all the red tape, he motioned for me to follow him as he headed for a small room. Were this a police station it would have made the perfect interrogation chamber: the wide table, the two chairs; it even had the one-way mirror. He motioned for me to take a seat as he went off into what looked like the kitchen.

“NOW THEN!” he yelled as he slammed two water bottles onto the table, “I’M GONNA LEVEL WITH YOU!” he started to cough violently. He took a swig of water as he sat down. “Sorry, this voice does wonders for my vocal chords as you can see. Now then, the fact you actually made it this far despite my ridiculous behavior tells me you’re here for one of two things. Either you’re really into volunteering, or you’re desperate.”

While what he said was true, I asked anyway. “What makes you so sure?”

“Simple,” he took another swig as he leaned back in his chair; a look of amusement spread across his face as he began to explain the method to his madness.

“If you were like the common rabble you would have lost interest in the flier before you even finished the first two sentences. And since you not only made the call, but actually finished it despite my attempts to rupture your eardrums, I know you’re either really patient or you don’t give a rat’s ass. But, the defining factor was when you showed up today during your break. A volunteer kind of guy would have waited until after work. So the fact that you came as soon as you could means you’re either unemployed, which I highly doubt, or you’re trying to fill some void in your life.”

He had some powers of perception. Granted, anyone could have figured it out, but the way his process worked was intriguing. This guy actually cared about the application process and who showed up. It was now easier to understand why he had the job.

“Now look here,” He leaned in close, a solemn expression on his face as he looked me in the eyes. “I don’t know what it was, or who it was, but let me make one thing clear. If you’re serious about this, I need you to give one-hundred percent. Not to me though, but to whomever I decide to pair you up with. These kids have had a rough time and I don’t need them being used as a way for you to cope with…whatever it was. If you’re here, you’re here for the kid. Your personal problems can come after you leave. Am I clear?”

My earlier assumptions were shattered. This guy obviously cared for these kids. He commanded my respect, and I liked what I was hearing. Sure, it was going to require effort on my part, but this was definitely going to help keep my mind off of Dashie and my seemingly unending depression.

“Crystal. What happens now?” I grabbed the other bottle as he leaned back in his chair.

“Now I run a background check to make sure you’re on the up-and-up. I’ll admit you look sketchy, but then again, I don’t look like a social worker. After you’re all clear, I’ll check my records against your forms and see which kid would benefit the most from your “brotherly wisdom.” After that it’s just weekly meetings. Nothing too hard…unless I give you a tough kid.”

“A ‘tough’ kid?” I asked with minor concern as I took a swig. He heaved a sigh as he rubbed his temples.

“As I said before, some of these kids have had a rough time. A lot of them need professional help that I’m not entirely qualified for; and I can’t find a shrink willing to work for a charity like us. I’m just saying that the one I pair you up with may not be so…’receiving’ as you’d like.”

I raised a stubborn Pegasus Pony for fifteen years. Anything a regular human kid could throw my way was sure to be easier by comparison.

“Like you said, I’m not here because of my problems or preferences, mister…?”

“Snowflake. Mr. Snowflake.” I think we both silently noted the irony as we shook hands and ended our meeting.

For the first time since the day she left, I finally had a sense of hope. I had absolutely no idea what was going to happen once I finally was assigned a kid, I had several work functions I had to attend this month, and I had just spent my whole lunch break going through the sign-up process. And yet, despite all this, for the first time in months I couldn’t stop smiling. This sure as hell wasn’t going to be easy, but it was going to help get my mind off of Dashie; whether I liked it or not.

David

Today’s the big day. Today’s the day I become a “big brother.” The following Saturday after I signed up was the official start of the program at the orphanage. I had been simultaneously anticipating and dreading this day. One the one hand, I’m finally going to get my mind off my daughter and depression by doing this. However, this is a big commitment; I’m going to be in charge of kid.

After fifteen years of raising Dashie you’d think I would have this in the bag. One, she was a pony: raising a foal is not the same as raising a human child. Two, she was my daughter: I knew her and raised her for fifteen years and we shared a bond of mutual trust and love. Whoever I end up with is going to be a complete stranger and, with all they’ve been through, I seriously doubt they’ll be friendly. And if I screw up I can’t just walk away and go back to my regular life. If I drop the ball, it’s the kid that will suffer; and that’s the part that worries me. I’m sure they’ve taken enough crap; I don’t want to give them more.

Despite my frustrations, the depression makes this a necessity. And if Snowflake thought I would royally screw this up, he would have turned me down in the first place. I’m not planning on being a successful big brother, but I’ll be damned if I’m not, at the very least, a mediocre one. Plus, what would Dashie think if I chickened out? She would never let me hear the end of it. I can already hear her taunting me. She’s not even here and she can still get a rise out of me. That’s all the motivation I need to get out of bed, get dressed, grab my coffee and head out the door.

I run through dozens of possible introductions in the hour it takes me to make my commute. All of them fall short of my expectations. I already feel sorry for whoever Snowflake paired me up with. Hopefully I get a talkative one; that’ll keep me from saying anything stupid. But would that really help me? More importantly, would it help the kid? I take a large swig and the caffeine helps to clear my mind of all worries and expectations. Who I get is who I get, and if we fail to bond I’m going to do my best to make sure it won’t be from lack of effort on my part. I see what Snowflake meant by personal problems can come afterward; I already have more than enough to worry about and I’m not even half-way there!

Eventually, after more contemplations and simulations, I reach my destination and I park across the street from the orphanage. As I enter the building I see a group of adults sitting amongst some rows of chairs by the wall. The turnout is not a big as I was expecting, but then you have to wonder how many people actually make it through Snowflake’s process. I take one of the empty seats and close my eyes, convincing myself one last time that this is a good idea. Only minutes later does Snowflake enter and shake us all with a loud,

“GOOD MORNING! ARE WE ALL ALIVE, ALERT, AWAKE AND ENTHUSIASTIC?!”

When you have that voice being blasted at you, it’s hard not to be. We all give various acknowledgements; some more enthusiastic and cheerful than the rest.

“GOOD! Now, I just wanted to make sure you were all still ready to do this. This is your absolute last chance to bow out with the minimum fallout consisting of a harsh glare as you make your walk of shame. After this, I hold you all personally accountable for what happens between you and your charge. So if anybody suddenly feels they aren’t up to the task, now’s the time to speak up.”

We all cast glances at each other; nobody stands up.

“Good. Follow me, people. Let’s go meet your little brothers and sisters.”

We all fall in behind Snowflake as he leads us through the kitchen into the playroom. As we file in, we can feel the presence of two dozen pairs of eyes looking us over and sizing us up. There’s a lot less kids than I thought there would be. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, I just know we’re standing in line facing our “siblings.” They all vary: some are kindergarteners while others look like they’re in high school; I see as many black and Asian kids as there are white; some appear to be in good health while others have snot flowing from their noses. The interesting thing is that I can see almost the same in our group of adults; varying ages, equal racial representation, even the drippy noses. I don’t know if that was planned or just coincidence, it definitely strikes me as odd.

Whatever thoughts I have are flung from my mind as Snowflake begins the proceedings.

“GO-O-O-OD MORNING KIDS!” About three quarters of the group actually give a response. Less than that actually shows enthusiasm.

“Go-o-o-od morning Snowflake!”

“ARE YOU READY TO MEET YOUR BIG BROTHERS AND SISTERS?!”

The response varied from shouts of enthusiasm to expressions of indifference. Snowflake didn’t waste a minute in introducing us to our pairs. At the start, some of us got along really well with our charge, some had that awkward “first meeting” moment and some were just downright cold. Guess where I fell in that spectrum? Not ten seconds after introducing myself and my “little brother” turned and walked away; settling down into a rocking chair by a window in the far right corner of the room.

His name was David. He was twelve years old, had brown wavy hair, braces on his teeth, and was a few inches taller than you’d expect for a kid his age. His dark-colored clothing seemed to match his mood. He completely ignored my existence as I grabbed one of the kiddie stools and sat down next to him. I tried to start a conversation, but it’s hard to think of topics when the other party looks like he wants to hurt you. But that wasn’t fair of me; as far as I knew he had a good reason as to why he seemed so dark and sullen.

So, with the words failing to come to me, we just sat there for an hour. I looked over my shoulder and glanced at the other pairs. Most of them were talking to each other, a few were even laughing together. I saw a few pairs who were having trouble, but at least they were actually speaking to each other. I felt a pang of shame as I turned back to see David had not moved at all. He still wasn’t looking at me, and I doubt he was any more interested in small talk than he was an hour ago.

As much as I’d hate to admit defeat, I don’t think this kid was going to crack and open up anytime soon. I was thinking of giving up, but the phantom voice of my daughter clucking kept me from acting on that impulse. So I just stared at David, hoping I’d at least annoy him into speaking to me. The more I stared at him, the more I noticed his eyes. I don’t know how to describe it, but they seemed…empty. They looked like they were devoid of any life. This stuck out of me because I had seen those eyes before: every morning when I looked in the mirror.

I have no idea what had happened to him, but I could make an educated guess as to what must have been going through his head as he just stared into space. He was reminiscing; whether the memories were good or bad, he was remembering the time before his world turned upside down. I pictured myself sitting on the couch just staring at a single picture for hours before finally shifting my gaze to look at the next; repeating this cycle until the sun went down. I know it sounds crazy, but I was sure that was what he was doing instead of talking to me. We just continued to sit there for another half-hour before Snowflake announced to everybody our meetings were over.

Although I deemed this meeting a failure, I was determined to say something before I left. I gave careful thought as to what I would say, and then I spoke, hoping David would acknowledge me.

“Look, I know you’re not interested in this “big brother, little brother” thing. And from that look in your eyes I can tell you’d rather like to be left alone with your thoughts. That’s fine by me.”

I rose from my chair and walked to the door. Before I left I turned back towards David, the irony was not lost on me as I said the following:

“But, there’s something you should know David. You can’t start living again until you come to grips with life. I don’t know who they were, but I know you must have loved them so much and they must have loved you. But, until you realize that suffering alone isn’t getting you anywhere, I can’t help you. I’ll see you next week.” I felt like a hypocrite saying that. I was in no position to give coping advice.

As I turned to leave I heard a low voice say “She.”

“What was that?” David was now staring straight at me.

“She loved me very much. There was no ‘they.’”

“Want to talk about it?” David just shook his head, his eyes locked onto mine.

“I understand. Is there anything you like?”

“Ice cream. ‘Moose Tracks.’”

“Alright then. The next time I see you I’ll make sure I bring a big tub of ‘Moose Tracks’ with me.”

With that he returned to staring out the window and I made my way down to the lobby. I waved goodbye to Snowflake who was now back behind his desk, looking over some indiscernible forms. I was about to leave when he called out to me.

“Hey.” I turned and faced him.

“Yes?”

“How’d it go with David?”

I’m sure my silence was very reassuring.

“That’s okay. David was one of those ‘tough’ ones I was talking about. Don’t worry, give him some time and I bet he’ll warm up to you. He might even speak in mono-syllabic answers if you’re lucky.”

That was odd. “Actually, he spoke in partial sentences.”

The smile on Snowflake’s face immediately disappeared as a look of shock spread across his face.
“Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea how long it took me to get to that point?!”

“Uh…how long?”

“Six months! And you’re with him after only an hour and a half! I can’t believe this!” The smile came back much bigger than before. “I know I’m good at judging character, but I didn’t think I was this good!”

I came over to the desk, confusion filling my mind and my face. “What are you talking about?”

“If David actually formed partial sentences then that means you are way ahead of where I expected you to be. Actually, forget ‘expected,’ you just blew my timetable to bits!”

This was good news. My thoughts of failure turned to thoughts of success and internal fist pumps as I heard this.

“I don’t know what you did, but keep doing it. David’s been here for two years and he still won’t open up to me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. You’re the first human being I know of who has been able to get him to talk back in such a short time. If you have already got to that point with David, then you may just be the answer to my problem!”

“Is it that bad?” Snowflake leaned back in his chair and rubbed his head.

“He’s had a tough time. I’m surprised he speaks at all. He’s been my main reason for finding a shrink to work for us. I don’t know exactly everything that happened-but I have a few ideas-and I know it’s causing him pain. And when you hold that hurt in,” he gave a slight wince, “It makes it near impossible to get rid of it later; especially at his age. My window of opportunity is closing; he needs to open up.”

“What should I do?”

“My friend,” he stood up and placed his hand on my shoulder, a look of concern was in his eyes, “I have absolutely no idea. All I know is that right now you’re my best bet at getting him back to some kind of normalcy. So just try your hardest, and I’ll back you up. Okay?”

I gave a nod and he returned to his seat.

“Thanks for coming, I appreciate it. Have a great day!”

I gave a small wave and headed out the door to my car. As I made my way home, I started to think about the situation I now found myself in. David had actually opened up to me? As it hard as that was to believe, if Snowflake was getting excited about it, then I should be as well. It definitely wouldn’t hurt to know I’m making progress. That night, for the first time in weeks, I spent no more than two hours flipping through the album. And when I went to bed that night, for a full ten minutes my head was free of Dashie and my depression. Then I felt it, something I thought I was never going to feel again. I felt normal. No depression, no void. For that small amount of time I felt like myself again. Although it was fleeting, it assured me that I had made the right choice in going to that meeting. Hopefully, this is the start of something good.

Headaches

I can’t believe this. I can’t believe he’d do this to me. Twelve years and he could never find the time to tell me I came from a freaking kid’s show!? Does he have any idea of how long I’ve waited? Waited to hear some explanation as to why we’re different species? Why I have to stay hidden from everybody? I knew it was because I was different, but I didn’t think it was because of this! I’m a doll! A trotting, talking, flying doll! And he knew it! And his excuse is that he just forgot to tell me about it?!

You know what, maybe I should just live out here in the forest! At least a tree won’t stab you in the back and keep secrets from you! And I can always forage for berries or grab a mouthful of grass from the meadow. Yes, that’s the perfect plan! That will show him! That will teach him a lesson! Maybe after some time on his own he’ll realize just how badly he screwed up!

…

What am I saying!? Am I really that shallow and stupid?! That was three days ago. Can I really judge him for what he did? I mean, he wasn’t intentionally trying to keep it from me, he just forgot. Yes, that sounds bad but, dang it, if I was in his shoes I’d probably have done the same. And it’s not like he was never going to tell me, he just didn’t know how I’d react…

I have made an ass out of myself. Running away? Ooh, that was a smart move. And just how did I think I was going to make it out here in the woods? I have no idea what plants I can and cannot eat, I have never made a fire, and I heard coyotes howling last night. Oh, I am screwed! Completely and totally screwed! I haven’t eaten anything good since that bag of chips-a bunch of bland leaves have nothing on fructose. The one source of water I found was that murky pond, which I’m sure will give me dysentery or something else. I’ve been flying from tree to tree and I’m covered in crap! I got twigs in my mane, I have cuts all over my body, and to top it off I slept under that leaky pine and got caught in those stupid burrs. Oh yes, I’m definitely Rainbow “Wilderness” Dash alright! How can I have been so stupid?! With Dad I had food, shelter, and… love…

Oh my gosh, what if he doesn’t love me anymore? No! No. He’ll always love his little “Dashie”…right? Oh, what have I done?! Twelve freaking years of pure love and I just threw it all away! All the bed-time stories, all those Sunday afternoons watching NASCAR, every single hug and every single kiss goodnight. And I just flushed it down the toilet because I had a tantrum! Way to go Rainbow! Way to stick it to the man. That wonderful, caring, “what-the-heck-am-I-going-to-do-with-out-him?” man.

I hear the boom of thunder, and I can feel the change in air pressure. Ooh, this is bad. Rain is not my friend right now; not when I have to worry about body heat. Okay, get a hold of yourself, Rainbow. Just find a nice big tree. Yeah…none of the trees at the edge are thick enough. I’m going to have to go further in to the deep, dark, possibly life threatening, woods. I fly up top and try to spot any trees with a nice big canopy. All I see is sea of leaves, no way to discern where it begins or where it ends. Not to mention I have no clue about where it’ll be thickest. Yeah, this isn’t as easy as I thought it was going to be.

No particular tree sticks out as I make my approach, scanning for my shelter. Since everything looks the same from up top, I’m going to have to hoof it. Landing was much easier back at the edge; I didn’t have to punch through several feet of canopy. But despite the fact I now have a dozen more scratches; if the canopy is thick then that’s a good thing. It’s much easier to see the difference in the tree tops down here. As I had suspected, most of them only have a thin canopy; good for shade maybe, but not for keeping out the rain. But there’s this one tree that definitely shows promise.

This has to be the thickest tree I have ever seen; it’d take like six of me to hug it all the way around. And the limbs above definitely look inviting; so thick and wide, I shouldn’t have any trouble laying down and staying balanced. And when I fly up, the canopy seals the deal; no patches, no gaps, no nothing. This is it; this is the tree for me. Just in time too; once I get settled I hear the first pit-pats of rain against the leaves. Within minutes the sky just opens up and pours a flood of water onto everything. Everything except for me, I’m nice and dry under the thick canopy.

However, while my body is okay, my mind is a whole other matter. And the rain isn’t helping, I always feel weird when it rains. How can I go back there? I yelled at him; I cussed at him; I called him all those horrible names. And then I ran away, leaving him all alone. How can I go back there when I hurt him so badly? He was just trying to spare my feelings…why was I so stupid!? He’s never going to want to see me again-I’d never want to see me again! How could I do that to him!?

As I’m mentally beating myself, tears rolling down my face, the snap of a twig grabs my attention. It’s followed by a couple more. Something…no, someone is coming. It couldn’t be; he wouldn’t be walking out here in the rain. But it is! I can see him coming my way! He ends up sitting right below me, his head slumped over. I can only imagine the look on his face. How could I have done this to him? He just sits there for a good half-hour, probably thinking about how I broke his heart. What have I done to you, Dad? I’m-

“I’m so sorry…”

What?

“I’m just so sorry, Dashie.”

I can hear him sobbing underneath me. Why is he apologizing? I’m the one who should be sorry. But how can I go back? After how badly I screwed up, how can I look him in the eye?

…

Screw it; I’m not getting anywhere just speculating. I need to see if he’ll take me back. I jump out of the tree and land on a twig, the noise alerts him to my appearance. He looks at me with a blank face: no smile, no emotion, just a few tears rolling down his face. I walk over to him and sit down beside him. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t do anything. This isn’t going well. I spend the next several minutes just staring off into the woods, trying to come up with something to say. Everything I come up with sounds stupid and I doubt a simple “sorry” would be enough.

Dang it! Say something already!

“I…I heard you,” I can’t control myself; my voice is going to crack. I have to bring my voice to a whisper.

“And I’m sorry too.” Out of the corner of my eye I see him smile. I can’t believe how much I missed that smile.

“Dashie, you have nothing to be sorry about. It’s my fault, simple as that.”

Yeah right. You were just being a good parent. I cussed you out and took off. How can he possibly still love me after that? Please don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me.

Oh, it’s really getting hard to keep control now. I can feel the dam about to burst. Hopefully I can get this out before my voice cracks.

“Dad.” Please say ‘yes.’ “Do…do you still love me?”

Within seconds his arms are around me, my muzzle is buried in his shoulder.
“Of course, Dashie. I've always loved you. I still love you, no matter what. Not even a small fight such as ours could ever change that.”

I immediately bring my arms around him and squeeze as tight as I can. The dam is obliterated; I literally have waterfalls coming out of my eyes. I can feel his tears rolling down my neck. I can’t believe he still loves me.

In-between gasps I apologize. “I’m…I’m so sorry Dad! I-I-I should have been more understanding. You just wanted to protect me.”

“No. No, I should have told you much, much sooner instead of leaving you in the dark. I never meant to take so long. Think you can forgive me?”

“So long as you return the favor.”

We share a small chuckle as the tears keep flowing. I feel so warm and loved. I don’t ever want this moment to end. I just want to stay embraced in his arms forev-

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

I slam my hoof down on my alarm clock. After what happened a couple weeks ago, I wanted to avoid anymore slip-ups. So I got myself this wonderful machine to chirp in my ear every, single, morning. I have never needed an alarm clock in the past, and If I wasn’t so tired I wouldn’t have to take this precaution. But since last week I’ve been exhausted for no reason. I haven’t done anything too physically taxing, I’ve taken a nap every day, I even started going to bed early and it still hasn’t fixed it. As I throw my back hooves over the side of my bed, a wave of pain crashes against the inside of my skull. As I rub my temples, I feel something wet sliding down my cheeks. I feel my face and confirm my suspicions. Why the hay am I crying?!

This is the fourth time this week that’s happened. And since I can’t seem to remember any of my dreams these past couple of weeks, I’m just going to assume it’s better I don’t try to remember what caused these displays of emotion. I’m more concerned about the headaches. At first I thought they were because I had just had a long day or because Applejack knocked me out of that tree; but if that had been the case, they would have gotten less severe. Every time I wake up they have gotten worse and they last longer. Maybe I should go see a doctor about it. In any case, it’s time to start my day.

As I fly over town, I see the mass of ponies beneath me waving and hooting. They’ve been like this for the last couple of weeks. Granted, the cheering and applause has died down to a more regular level, but they’re still much more enthusiastic then they’ve been in the past. One thing I’ve noticed is the rather large number of ponies that have come up to me and asked me about my “vacation.” It has ranged from the general “Did you have a good vacation?” to the excited “Where’d you go?! What’d you do?! Tell me everything!” even so subtle as “Glad to have you back.” As with the applause, these questionings died down after a couple of days; but once in a while somepony else comes up and asks me again. Now at first I just thought everypony was ribbing me for sleeping in late, but I’ve heard it from ponies outside the weather office; ponies I don’t really know. What is going on? I haven’t gone anywhere…I think.

I just need to put it out of my mind. I have work to do. As I walk in I see Cloud Kicker by the front desk, a sour expression on her face. Odd…she usually makes that face after I screwed something up. I can only imagine what could possibly have gone wrong to illicit this expression before I even walked through the door.

“Morning, Cloud, what’d I do?”

She sustained her look of displeasure as she shoved a notice into my face.

“Care to explain this?”

“Well, you see Cloud; this is what’s known as a piece of paper. Usually you-“

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake, read it!”

As I grabbed the notice out of her hooves, I gave a smirk as she crossed her forelegs and continued to glare at me. However, my smirk soon faded as I saw the content of the notice. Those flapping, feather-headed bureaucrats!

“What the hay is this?!”

“You tell me.”

“Well obviously this is a mistake. I know I put the right date on that report. Why does this even matter anyway?”

“Because!” She ripped the notice out of my hooves, “If one thing is off, that can cause a misfile and that can lead to investigations and that leads to pink slips! I know you’re lazy, but I didn’t think you could be this careless! Just be glad my friend at the Bureau caught it before it was filed. But he shouldn’t have had to, because this is-”

Before she continued I raised my hoof in the air. I didn’t care if I was ticking her off, I wasn’t all that happy at the moment.

“Oh for-Yes?”

“Before you chew me out could you give me my schedule?”

With a roll of her eyes and an exasperated sigh, she pulled out her clipboard from beneath her wing and looked over it. Thankfully, she just handed me my schedule sheet and walked away, fuming and cursing under her breath. Why she was so ticked off made no sense to me; she wasn’t the one who got short-ended. In any case, I now had an extra job on my hooves and I was not happy about it. They declined my report because I apparently gave the wrong date. Don’t ask me why they couldn’t just change it there, or why it mattered that the date I put was two weeks off from what it was supposed to be. I knew what day it was…or did I?

I grabbed the calendar from behind the reception desk and just stared at the date. That’s not right, that’s two weeks ahead of what today is. Maybe the calendar is wrong? Or maybe I do need to visit the doctor’s today. I spend my morning rewriting the whole report, running it by Cloud Kicker just so she’s confident in my ability to fill out legal documents. I send it off and schedule my appointment. I hate going to the doctor’s. They take forever just to tell you if you have a simple head cold. However, if I’m two weeks behind everypony, it wouldn’t hurt to get a professional opinion.

I hadn’t even gotten past the front desk and they already had me waiting. My appointment was scheduled for half an hour ago. Then, when I was finally taken to the back, I had to wait a whole hour freezing my flank off on the metal examination table. Had I known I would have been waiting this long, I would have gotten lunch. However, any thought of inconvenience left my mind when the doctor finally poked his head in through the door. However, more concern than relief came to my mind when he greeted me.

“Ah, Rainbow Dash! Sorry about the wait, busy day. Good to see you, did you have a nice vacation?”

“Actually, that’s why I came here today.”

“Oh, you think you picked something up over in…?”

“That’s just it doc, I don’t remember anything. I’m two weeks behind everypony else.”

His cheery disposition soured and he looked much more concerned.

“I see; anything else out of the ordinary aside from the memory loss?”

“Well…”

He sat down on the stool next to me, a pad in his hooves and a pencil in his mouth.

“Well?” he slurred with the pencil clamped between his teeth.

“I’ve also been having these headaches all week long...”

He nodded his head as he began to write.

“And I’m concerned because whenever I usually get a headache it goes away after a couple hours. But not only have these been popping up all week, they’ve been getting progressively worse.”

“Enhee hidea what’s cauthing them?”

“Come again?”

He spat out the pencil onto the pad and repeated his question.

“I said, ‘Any idea what’s causing them?’ Do they just pop out of nowhere or do they have a pattern?”

“Um…” I have no idea how to answer that. I just thought they were headaches and that they’d go away after a couple hours. I never thought they actually had a pattern.

“How about this: run me through a usual day and tell me when you get one of these big headaches.

“Okay, well I get one after waking up in the morning, and that one is usually gone by lunch time.”

The doctor put the pencil back in his mouth and resumed writing.

“Go wan, go wan.”

“Then I take a nap in the afternoon and when I wake up from that, I get another big one.”

“I thee.” I know this is probably serious, but I just can’t take him seriously while he tries to talk with that pencil clamped between his teeth. “Enysing else out uh the orhinhary?”

“One more time, doc.”

The pencil went flying out of his mouth. “Anything else out of the ordinary? Possible side effects? Symptoms? Anything at all?”

“Well, I’m always exhausted.”

He looked over what he had so far on the pad. “What time do you go to bed, Ms. Dash?”

“Nine. I’ve been going to bed earlier and earlier trying to shake the exhaustion.”

“And you haven’t been up to anything...exciting?”

“If you mean whether I’m a well behaved mare, then yes doc; I haven’t been up to anything ‘exciting.’” The other thing I hate about going to the doctor’s: all those personal questions.

He checked over his notes, quietly mumbling to himself.

“So we have headaches, exhaustion, and memory loss. You haven’t had a really bad fall recently, have you? Any sort of major head trauma?”

“I told you doc, I don’t remember.”

“Huh.” He got up from his stool and gave my head an examination. He looked through my mane trying to find any outstanding bumps, bruises or “softspots” as he called them. Finding none, he just went back to his stool, put the pencil back in his mouth and scribbled some closing observations. When he was done, he once again spat the pencil out and told me his diagnosis.

“Well Miss Dash, I’m leaning towards head trauma, but I can’t tell if it’s mental or physical. Unless I know exactly how it happened I’m not going to do anything else except prescribe some aspirin for the pain.”

That wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but at least I wasn’t leaving empty-hooved. After getting my prescription filled and scheduling a follow-up for next week, I walked out of the hospital. As I was flying back to my house, my headache came back swinging. The first thing I did when I got through my door was pop two aspirin into my mouth. I can already feel the pain ebbing. But where there was pain is now exhaustion. He did say they were extra-strength. I know it’s only three, but maybe turning in really early wouldn’t hurt. I barely have time to climb into my bed before the exhaustion finally takes me and I pass out.

I’ve spent the last hour directing the weather patrol to gather clouds for Twilight’s latest experiment. In front of me is a cloud bank made up of over one hundred clouds, all white and fluffy. But by the time we’re done, Twilight assures me they’ll all be dark and ready to burst with rain.

“Do you think that’ll be enough Twilight?”

“Yes Dash, I think this will do nicely!”

“Tell me again why you’re trying to learn weather magic?”

“I told you Rainbow, I want to be able to help the weather team either make a storm in case of a drought, or be able to break it up if it’s too severe.”

“And you seriously think you’ll need this spell in the future?”

“Not really, but just the same I want to learn it. Is that all?”

“Yep, just making sure there was an actual reason for this.”

I head back up to the sky for what I assume is going to be a spectacular display of magical skill. I know Twilight’s always having those, but this could be the first time a non-pegasi can actually manipulate a cloud. At least, this would be the first time I ever saw one. Twilight probably knows of some other old eggheads who could do it too.

I send away all-nonessential pegasi as the remainder of us standby in case this gets out of hoof. I trust in Twilight’s ability, but she hasn’t always had the best track record when it comes to these things. I’m just hoping this all doesn’t literally blow up in my face.

“Okay everypony! I’m going to try it out now!”

Twilight closes her eyes and digs her hooves into the dirt. Her horn starts to glow, first faintly, but it becomes much brighter as her face seems to tighten. I know magic is serious business but she just looks ridiculous. But before a laugh can leave my mouth, a brilliant purple beam shoots out of Twilight’s horn and into the cloud bank. Almost immediately the white fluffy puffs turn into grey, static, storm clouds. They immediately start booming and shooting off little bolts of lightning. Wow, I’m impressed; it takes us a whole morning to get it to this point!

As I stare in awe, I notice one of the clouds building up a rather sizable charge. I barely dodge the bolt as it shoots out. Soon, multiple bolts of lightning as huge as the first one are shooting out of the clouds. I see the rest of my weather team doing their best to dodge the shocking projectiles.

“What are you doing?! Don’t just hover there, you feather brains! Get out of here!”

They all break off and go for shelter. I turn to the cloud bank and realize it’s not just the lightning that’s getting bigger; the whole cloud bank is growing. That’s not supposed to happen; they can’t just grow like that. Something is obviously wrong. The wind picks up, whipping through the clouds and sending a horizontal shower in my direction. I put a hoof up to my face as it’s being pelted by rain.

“Twilight!” I shout as loud as I can, the wind shrieking in my ears. “It’s too big! Change it back!”

I can barely hear her reply over the wind “I know! I’m try-! -of the way!”

“What’d you say?!” I try to pick out her voice from the rest of the din all around me. I’m completely soaked and my mane is getting stuck to my face.

“I said, Get out…way! I’m…ting…ano…eam…clouds!”

I have no idea what she’s saying. All I know is that if she doesn’t do something quick, this is going to become too much for even me to handle. As I’m continually pelted by rain, I start bobbing and weaving through the sky, trying to dodge the humungous bolts of lightning. One almost gets me; the fur on my haunches is singed. Okay, that’s it! I’m teaching this sucker a lesson!

I fly straight into the storm, unable to open my eyes due to the rain constantly bombarding my eyelids. I can’t hear Twilight anymore. Why did we do this stupid experiment anyway?! I should have seen it wasn’t going to go according to plan! You can’t force a cloud to storm without consequences! I finally feel the soft texture of the clouds against my hooves. I start randomly punching, receiving small shocks as I obliterate cloud after cloud. Despite my efforts there’s still no change! Eventually I manage to catch a break and I can finally open my eyes. There’s a hole in the cloud bank about seven feet wide in front of me. That’s a start! I turn towards Twilight’s direction, hoping she can hear me.

“Hey Twilight! I-“
Before another word can leave my lips, I’m hit by one of the huge lightning bolts.

“AAAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGHHHHHHH!!!”

Oh, sweet Celestia it stings! Before I can try to move, another strikes me, adding onto the pain from the first one. What I know are mere seconds feel like hours of this torture! My eyes are shut, but that doesn’t stop the lightning from causing my body to spasm. As my eyes randomly fly open and shut, I not only see sparks of electricity all around me, but I see something else as well. I see another beam of magic coming straight towards me. I start losing the feeling of pain in my limbs as the beam steadily comes closer; time seemingly continues to slow around me. I can feel my heart skipping, trying to stay in its natural beat. Finally the beam makes its way to me and narrowly misses my right leg! Before I can see anything else I feel my heart stopping. I’m dying. Sweet Celestia I’m actually-

“AAAAAUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHH!!!”

I’m in my room, and I’m alive. I just sit there in my bed gasping for a few minutes before I take inventory; checking all over my body for singe marks before finally placing my hoof on my chest. I can feel the quickened pace of my heart, pushing more adrenaline through my body. What the heck was that?! How could I not remember that?! “Severe head trauma,” Getting fried by lightning is pretty severe! How am I still alive? I should be dead!

Sweet Celestia, I should be dead.

With this revelation ingrained in my psyche, I seem only capable of staring at the wall in front of me. No emotion, no reaction, absolutely nothing at all. I just stare into space, contemplating my continued existence. Eventually I lay back down, my gaze going from the wall to my ceiling. I blink periodically, lost in deep thought. Eventually, I finally turn my head to look at the clock; it’s five in the morning. I go back to staring at the ceiling until I feel my eyelids drooping. As I close my eyes, only one thought registers in my mind.

I’m supposed to be dead…

Progress

I had a sizable tub of ‘Moose Tracks’ ice cream along with a couple bowls and spoons sitting in one of those reusable grocery bags in the backseat of my truck. It had been two weeks since all us big brothers and sisters met with our charges. While the meetings were regularly weekly, last week happened to be Halloween. Thankfully, Dashie and I didn’t really do anything special outside of sugar comas and pumpkin pie, so I was safe as far as the nostalgia went. Over the course of that week I had been going over and over again how I should go about today.

The last time, it had seemed like a bust when David had hardly said anything, but now it appeared I was Snowflake’s best shot at reaching the kid. What I couldn’t seem to guess however, was whether David would be open to me or if I’d go through another hour of silence hoping for some kind of response. Regardless, in my spare time I had been catching up on my memes and trends so I’d have better topics…the internet has gotten so bizarre during my extended leave. Granted, once she knew the truth, I let Dashie go on the web (I got a guy to put a content filter on my PC for me so I didn’t have to worry about her finding anything “unnatural") so it was there, but I really hadn’t used it outside of research for budgets and email. But at least now I felt somewhat prepared as I parked opposite the Orphanage entrance.

As I came through the door I was greeted by Snowflake. “Hey, how you doing?!”

I almost dropped my bag as his hand slammed into my back. “Great, just great, Snowflake. How have you been?”

“I’ve been wonderful. We had a great Halloween party last week and all the kids really enjoyed it. You know, outside of those ‘trouble’ kids.”

Since he brought it up, I thought it a good idea to get a heads up before I went in and gave it my all.

“Say, has David been talkative…at all?”

He just crossed his arms and gave a solemn look. “I’m still only getting ‘yeps’ and ‘nopes.’ Hopefully you’ll get more than that today.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

I barely had time to brace myself before I got another five-star, Snowflake giving me a hearty chuckle.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ll do fine. Good luck.” And with that I made my way to the play room.

Upon entering I saw plenty of the other pairs talking and having their fun. And in the corner, sitting in his rocking chair just like before, was David staring out the window. Surprisingly, he had a card table and a standard size chair set up in front of him. I made my way towards the corner of the room, giving a “Hey” to grab his attention. He pried his eyes away from the window and acknowledged my arrival; probably more for interest in the bag than anything else.

“Hey there David, how we doing?”

No response. I set my bag down and pulled out the tub.

“I brought the Moose Tracks.”

He just gave me a curt nod as he grabbed the bowls and spoons out of the bag. I divvied up the ice cream, both of us just eating it quietly. After ten minutes, I figured now it was appropriate to talk.

“So…anything you want to do?

He just kept on eating his Moose tracks.

“How about sports, I’m sure you play a sport or two?”

This time I got an answer. “Nope”

“Not even one?”

“Never really been into sports.” A complete sentence; I was in.

“Not even Chess?” Now that was pushing it.

“That’s a sport?”

“Correct answer.” As I began to think of another topic that might possibly evoke a response, I noticed that David was now doodling. Now when I say “doodle” I’m not talking stick-men; this was the beginning of a sketch. Last time I saw something like that was when my mom was still alive. “What’s that you got there?”

“Nothing.” He wrapped his arm around the paper and lowered his head to keep me from seeing any more.

“Looks like something to me.”

“Really,” he was getting agitated now, “It’s nothing.”

“Can’t I just take a look?” then he got really ticked.

“I said it was nothing, didn’t I?! Why do you care about it? Just get out and leave me alone.”

Well, that took the wind out of my sails. Maybe I was trying too hard. Just because I got him to talk back to me didn’t mean I could push my luck. So I just sat in my seat content with what I got. But then David spoke up.

“You aren’t gone yet?”

“Was I supposed to be?”

“Kind of…”

Interesting. “Why would I leave?”

“Because…you know.”

“No, not really. Care to elaborate?” Was I making progress?

“Well, usually people have better things to do with their time than visit a kid, in an orphanage, on a Saturday. Especially when the kid is me.”

“You mean how you don’t talk a lot and stuff like that?”

“Yeah…stuff like that.” And now I was getting somewhere.

“Snowflake told me about that. Any reason why I’m currently six months ahead of schedule?”

“Did he really put it like that?” I gave a nod in reply. “Well, you waited for an hour; I figured you should have something to show for it.”

“I’m sure Snowflake has waited far longer and has gotten much less, so I don’t think that’s it. C’mon, what’s the real reason?”

And now he was back to being quiet. He went back to his doodling and I just plopped another scoop into my bowl. It was twenty minutes and another bowl later before David picked up where he left off.

“What happened?”

“Come again?”

“I saw you the whole time out of the corner of my eye, you looked sad. And then when you gave me that advice, I figured it was from experience. So what happened?”

“That’s rather private, don’t you think?” His head sunk and he went back to his doodling. Smooth move there, real brotherly. But it’s not like I had to share that with him, it was my business. But then again, I had held it in all to myself for so long; perhaps finally getting it off my chest with another human being would help me move past it.

“However,” and now I regained his attention, “It’s not really fair of me to ask you to do all the talking, especially since I’m supposed to be a mentor figure or something like that. Care to be more specific?”

With this, he seemed to become more relaxed. “What happened that made you want to do this?”

“Well I…I lost somebody.”

“Who?”

“My daughter. She…” It was hard to be vague; I couldn’t really think of anything that would be plausible. So I just went with the first thing that popped into my head. “…took a job out of the country.”

“Then how is she lost? Did you like, get into a fight or something like that?” It stung to bring it up, but it felt good to be finally saying it out loud. So I continued.

“No she…” what was some good bull? Ah, yes. “…She’s just too far for me to call her. Or, at least, I don’t know how to reach her. She’s not really supposed to stay in contact.”

I doubt he bought that, but he answered anyway. “Well, at least she’s out there.”

“Yeah…she is.”

Somewhere inside, something stopped throbbing. It…it’s not something I can describe very well. It just felt like something was flowing now where it had been blocked up. However I pushed the relief aside and continued the conversation. I was making some headway now.

“Anyway, she left me with some spare time on my hands and I found one of Snowflake’s fliers. So I figured ‘what the hell?’ Does that work for you?”

“Yeah, that works. Sorry that she’s gone.”

“Thanks. Now…” I leaned forward on the table, resting my chin in my right palm, “who’s ‘she?’ The one you mentioned last time.”

“Hmm…don’t you think that’s rather private?” Well played, very well played. I was willing to settle for what I had; at least we had a conversation this time. And it wasn’t like we still couldn’t continue; we still had a good half hour left.

“Well then, if we’re off that topic, what do you like, David? If sports aren’t your thing, what do you do in your free time?”

“Homework, videogames, stuff like that.”

“What about the drawing?”

“Nah, it really is nothing; just a bunch of stupid doodles.”

“Okay buddy-“

“Buddy?”

“Well yeah, if we’re going to be doing this for a long time to come, we may as well have nicknames.” It didn’t really qualify as a nickname and it wasn’t the most imaginative thing to call him, but it was better than “kid” and it had a better ring to it than “pal.” Fortunately, he took it well.

“Fine then, Old man.”

“There you go, that’s it.” What a cheap shot. “Now, you may have everybody else fooled, but I can see you know how to draw.”

“Yeah right.” He gave a dry chuckle and continued to sketch and outline as I continued to press my case.

“Buddy, I lived with an artist for eighteen years; your ‘doodles’ just need ink and color to finish them off.”

“They’re not that great,” he shot me a quick glance, “you really think so?”

“My mom tried to teach me to draw like that for five years before she finally gave up on me. Trust me; I know what good is supposed to look like.”

“So your mom was the artist?” I could tell he was growing more interested as he sat up in his chair and focused his eyes on me.

“Yep. Her paintings were amazing. She always put so much life and color into her work, even if it was the dumbest thing you could paint. Now…um,” I was taking a risk now, “what about your mom?” Did I really just ask that?

David sat there for five minutes gathering his thoughts before he (amazingly) touched upon the subject. There wasn’t any emotion on his face, but I could see that faraway look come to his eyes.

“She was the best mom ever. Never angry, never hit me, always told me ‘I love you’ before I’d head out for the bus. She always played with me whenever I’d bug her to. And her bed time stories, they were as amazing as…” He snapped back to reality and cut himself short. “Anyways, you know…she died.”

I was a horrible person. I can’t believe I actually brought that up. “I’m sorry, David.”

“Don’t be, I’m sorta glad she died. It was far less painful for her.”

“How so?”

“She had cancer.” As soon as he said that, I repeated no less than one hundred times in my head, What the hell is wrong with me?!

At that point we reached the inevitable awkward silence. Thankfully, our time was up; keeping me from putting my other foot in my mouth. Neither of us said another word as I cleaned up the bowls and put the empty tub back into the bag.

“Alright, see you next week, buddy.”

Despite the awkwardness of our previous conversation, I heard behind me

“See you later, Old Man.”

I glanced behind me and saw a small grin on his face. I returned the grin as I made my way out of the room and to the front desk to report to Snowflake.

The smile on my face only seemed to magnify Snowflake’s as he began to grill me. “How’d it go? What’d you talk about? Did you talk?”

“Calm down, I’m getting to that.” I leaned against the counter as I filled him in. “Get this: I not only had complete sentences, we had an actual conversation.”

Oh, the look on Snowflake’s face. It was like telling somebody they just won the lottery. “You’re freaking kidding me! He really talked to you?”

“That he did. He asked why I was here, I told him, and then we talked about our moms.”

His smile disappeared as his jaw went slack. “He actually talked about his mom? And it’s only the second meeting?”

“Yes, and I felt like a horrible person for allowing it to come up. Did you know she died of cancer?”

He had a solemn expression as the shock left his face. “Yes, yes I did; got it in right here in my files. Went through two long years of pain. She was absolutely broke after the first year, so she was unable to keep up with the treatments. I can only imagine how painful it had to have been. And not just for Mom, but for David as well.”

“How old was he?”

“He was just a second grader when she was diagnosed. Then when she couldn’t afford treatment anymore, she stopped trying and just saved her paychecks so David would have a nest egg. You wouldn’t believe some of the jerks he ended up with in the foster system. At least half of them tried to gain access to those funds. But nope, I got the numbers in my records and they’re going to stay there ‘til he’s eighteen.”

“Wow…no wonder he’s so closed up.” Snowflake just gave a simple nod in agreement.

“Do me a favor; don’t ask me for any more. I mean, I’m willing to help you as much as I can, but I think it would be better if you heard these things from David and not-“ he pointed towards one of his filing cabinets, “-a stack of papers. You get what I mean?”

“I understand completely. So, next week then?” I made my way towards the door.

“Yep, see you next week. Same time, same place. Have a good day!”

As I got into my car, I couldn’t help but wonder what else happened to David. Just how long he had been on his own and just how hard it must have been with his mom. I continued to think about this even as I walked through my front door after my commute. I made my way to the kitchen and began to make my dinner when it hit me: I didn’t go to the album. I always went to the album after coming home, but not today. I had finally ignored it. I was becoming normal again. I was finally moving on, I had made progress! But what was on my mind took precedence over this personal growth.

Don’t misunderstand; Dashie was still very much in my head. But now she was on the back burner, like I had been waiting for since September. However, instead of just thinking about what to do now, I found my thoughts drifting towards David. I’m not saying this was odd, I would have expected this at some point since I was involved now. I just found it bizarre he could just push Dashie out of the way like that. Why did he have that effect in my head? Maybe, just maybe, it was because I had someone new to worry about.

And that’s when I realized my priorities had changed. When you become a parent, you go from wanting to live out your dreams and ambitions to focusing on taking care of your kid. When you’re all they’ve got and they’re all you got, that’s all you think about at night: “Is my kid okay?” Then when they grow up and go off on their own, they leave a hole behind. Now, usually, it’s not that big; you have other kids or a spouse to also take care of. But Dashie was all I had and now she’s gone completely: I have nothing to occupy that space. So I guess it only made sense that I’d try to fill in that gap somehow. (After reading all those therapy books and watching Dr. Phil, you can’t help but psychoanalyze your situation from time to time.)

But that wasn’t right; I couldn’t think of David as a replacement. I could never and would never replace Dashie, and I couldn’t do that to David. I was fine with him being my new focus, but I couldn’t let it become about me. And that’s when I understood what had been wrong with me the past few months. I had been feeling empty, not just because Dashie was gone, but because I had lost my purpose. For these last few months, I didn’t have something to focus on, something to take care of; I didn’t have a reason for living.

It was then and there that I recognized my new job was to help David. So long as he was in my life, I was to be there for him. And so long as he was doing alright, I was doing my job. I found new purpose, and this new purpose was going to require my full attention.

I walked over to the coffee table and I snatched the album up. I jogged up the stairs and into my bedroom. I took one last look at the album cover before placing it on my bookshelf, to be opened only on special occasions. I went outside, fired the mower and went to work on the lawn. After two hours I had finished as the last traces of sunlight disappeared. It still needed some work, but I had accomplished what I had set out to do.

There were new priorities now; I had purpose again. And because of that, I really needed to get my act together. Dashie was out of the nest and on her own. Now it was my responsibility to help David get out of his shell and spread his wings. And I fully intended on doing so. Not just because I had purpose again, but because I was sure David was going to go places in his life. And so long as I was there, I was going to help him get to them.

The Artist

Over the last month or so, David and I have really seemed to hit it off. Aside from our weekly meetings, we’ve been able to take a few field trips. I took him to the gym and started teaching him basketball (he’s picked it up rather quickly), and he had us visit the local Art Museum on the other side of town. (“Art” being used rather loosely; my mom did better than half of the artists featured there.) Afterwards, David even tried to teach me how to draw. I can’t do what he does, but at least now my stick figures look much better than before. Snowflake can’t understand why David has taken to me like this. I can’t understand it either, I’m just glad it’s working out.

Thanksgiving was interesting this year. Since it was only the two of us, Dashie and I would just have a bigger dinner than usual, then play all the board games in our game chest until it was time for pie. But this year, I joined in with the orphanage feast. Surprisingly, I wasn’t the only Big brother there. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who had a lot of time on their hands and no one to spend it with. In fact, I was there so early, I and several others were shanghaied into helping make dinner. There, amongst the heat and the wonderful smells, Snowflake introduced us to his wife. Her name was Lizzie, and unlike her husband she was petite and had a much softer voice. But her laugh was just like Snowflake’s: loud, long and lively. After working for three hours we had dinner on the table. Our feast consisted of a large turkey, mounds of mashed potatoes, several pots of stuffing, bowls full of various steamed vegetables, a gallon of gravy, and several stacks of Jello cups of varying flavors along with a few pies for dessert. It was far better than anything Dashie and I had ever made.

We all headed into the playroom, where we all gathered around a makeshift grand table. The kids sat on one half and the adults sat on the other. David happened to be sitting on the dividing line, and he didn’t make any objections as I took my place beside him. After a few words of thanks from Snowflake, we all sat down and started shoveling food onto our plates and into our mouths; it brought me back to Thanksgiving with my distant relatives all those years ago. My parents and I would hit the road and stay for the holidays with our cousins. We did this every year until I was a teenager; that was when my grandfather died. After that, the whole family had a falling out, and we spent Thanksgiving at home. It was nice to have more than two other people at the table this time around.

As is the norm during a holiday, small talk broke out at the table in between gulps and cries of “pass it down.” Snowflake started talking about the football game, which of course grabbed all the guys’ attention. The few women that were there shared in a different conversation led by Lizzie. As I turned to my left I could hear all the kids chattering about how good the food was, or how amazing the parade on TV was. Everyone that is, except David. He just sat there and quietly, just starting to dig into the small mountain of mashed potatoes on his plate. I was determined to keep him from going for seconds.

“So how have you been, David?”

“The usual.” He was diligently shoveling the potatoes into his mouth.

“Right…so, utterly amazing and you’re on top of the world? Something like that?”

“Sure.” I don’t think he was even stopping to breathe.

“Don’t care for small talk, huh?”

“Don’t have time.” He took a brief pause from eating, “Lizzie only makes her mashed potatoes a few times a year. Family recipe; one of the best things you can eat here. Need to eat it before it’s all gone.” He then resumed his shoveling.

“Is that what you all call her? Not something more formal?”

“Yeah, she doesn’t care. Snowflake doesn’t either.”

“She come here often?” His replies weren’t getting any longer.

“Sometimes on the weekends; always on the holidays.” Another forkful, “She handles the food.”

“I got that; I helped her mash her potatoes.”

“She does more than just feed us; she also handles all our education needs.” He was finally slowing down. “She makes sure we’re on the bus route, gets the stuff for our bag lunches, and she buys all our books. She even got me an art tutor.”

“No kidding? Sounds like a swell lady.” What a kind and caring woman. No wonder Snowflake married her.

“Yep.” His plate was now clear and he went for a second helping.

“So you have a tutor?” His eyes were fixated on the serving spoon.

“Uh-huh. Comes twice a week for my painting lessons.”

“Wait, you paint?” I knew he could draw, but he could paint too?

“Well, yeah. I could paint before I could draw. You know, ‘good,’ that is.”

“Huh. You continue to surprise me, buddy.” If his paintings were anything like his “doodles” they must be really good.

“Sure,” he stuffed a large forkful of potatoes into his mouth, “sure.”

It wasn’t long before we were all stuffed, and all were ready to pass out or watch the game. Snowflake handled the entertainment. He had the game on in the break room, and he had all sorts of board games for the kids. I was thinking about joining the guys when David caught me.

“Hey, Old man?”

“Yeah Buddy?”

“You said you could tell what good art was, right?”

“David, anyone can be a critic. However, I do know more about art than your average Joe. Why?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to look at a few of my paintings.”

Was he serious? He wanted me to check out his paintings? I couldn’t pass this up.

“Lead on, Mr. Rembrandt.” He rolled his eyes as I gave a smirk. Soon we were heading towards the opposite end of the play room where this door just stood there, out of the way and out of your attention. I figured it was for cleaning supplies or something like that. I was surprised to find that it actually led to this spacious room, filled with multiple easels.

“Welcome to the Art room,” he gestured. “Here’s where the more artistic kids can get creative.”

Along the walls I saw many different paintings. Some looked like they were done by a five year-old (and they probably had been) but quite a few of them actually looked very nice. And as I read the tags placed underneath the dozen or so frames, I saw David’s name pop up again and again. At least two-thirds of the paintings on display were David’s, and, damn, did they look good! It was amazing just how gifted he was, especially at his age. The level of detail and the colors he used made it look like I was staring through a window. I’m sure others would disagree, but from my point of view, these were on par with my mom’s work.

“You did all of these, David?”

“Not all of them, but most of them, yeah. Like ‘em?”

“Very much. You’re really good.” I couldn’t seem to stop staring at the wall.

“I don’t know about that. Say, Old man?”

“Yeah, buddy?” I said still scanning over all the paintings.

“Would you like to watch me paint? You know, since you’re so interested. Unless you want to go watch the game?”

Was he serious? Football was on all the time compared to the few times David might actually ask me to sit in on a painting session. I didn’t have to think twice. “I’d love to watch you paint.”

“Then grab a stool and sit over by that easel next to the door, I’ll be back shortly.”

It was a good ten minutes before David returned with a box full of paints.

“Sorry it took so long. Busy day today.” He put the box on the floor and started picking out his paints.

“Why don’t you keep the paint in here?”

“You had a kid, Old Man. I’m sure you know how much the younger ones like to get into stuff and make a mess. Ever since some of the kids decided to go Pollock on the playroom walls, Snowflake has kept them locked up in a supply closet by his desk. It’s annoying, but it keeps the paintings-and the walls- safe.”

“You don’t say? That would explain why the paint job on one half of the room is a shade brighter than the other. You know, my daughter did something like that once. Except it wasn’t just the wall, she had to go and redo the whole hallway as well.”

With that I got a chuckle. “Now I’m going to need quiet. So don’t talk unless I ask you to, got it?”

I responded by pantomiming my lips being zipped, locked, and flinging the key away. David came over to the easel and put the paints on a little table. Then he squirted little blobs of color onto a palette, sometimes mixing one here, or adding more there. He had made at least three different shades of green and many varying shades of brown. What really stuck out the most was how much white he had; the blob was at least three times larger than any of the others. As soon as he was happy with his arrangement of paints, he pulled a picture out of his pocket. After carefully unfolding it, I could understand why he had all that white.

His reference picture was of a small log cabin in the clearing of a pine tree forest on a winter day.

“Got this from one of the magazines in the lobby. Don’t tell Snowflake; he hates it when I do that.”

“As long as you don’t tell him I’m the guy who took that piece of pie before it was on the table.”

A shocked expression came to his face. “It was you?”

“I couldn’t help it. Lizzie makes a good pie.” In all honesty, I wasn’t the only guilty one. I only took half of that slice, Snowflake took the other; and he only divvied it up because I had caught him in the act.

Glancing at the picture and back to his paints, David began to transform the canvas.

First, he worked on the background of pines. He mixed some dark green along with the usual brown for the trunks. Then using alternating shades of brown with the white, he made all the branches jutting out from the trees. The best part was that I could tell which branch belonged to which tree, instead of it all just being a blur of brown scratches. Next he took one of the skinniest brushes I’ve ever seen and he started painting on the needles. I could almost see each individual needle as David went back and detailed them all with a darker shade of green. What was interesting was that he left some patches towards the bottom of the trees, making them seem more realistic than the few you could pick out in the photo.

Next he worked on the cabin. He used a dark brown on the logs, making them noticeably different from the nearby pines. He made them thicker and even added some rot here and there to give the building a weathered look. Then he started on the roof. He laid down a layer of black, and alternating his shades of brown, painted on the shingles. He didn’t even need to go back and detail them in order for me to see each individual shingle. Then he painted a door and some windows onto the cabin, red trim around them all. Then he did something odd; he used black for the windows. But then he mixed together a little blue with some white and lightly dabbed each pane. He had actually made it look like there was frost on the glass.

He finished it all up with the snow. Now he didn’t use pure white. He had shades of white with gray and another with a bit of yellow. He laid them in layers: the gray first, the yellow second, and the regular white on top. He made little hills of this snow around the tree line; in my mind I could see it being blown there by the wind. The end result was snow that had the appearance of cream. I could almost feel the cold and smell the pine as he began the final phase of detailing.

“So what do you think so far?”

“This is amazing, buddy. You could make a living off of this.”

“Yeah, right…you serious?” Was he serious?

“These should be in shows, buddy. How can you not see that?” I know my mom could paint, but I never saw her do something like this. He had a gift.

“Well, I haven’t really had any feedback.”

“You have to have had some idea of your skill?”

“Well I know I can definitely paint better than a five-year old, but nobody’s really commented on my art.” He had to be joking.

“Not even Snowflake?”

“Old man, Snowflake is always blowing sunshine up our butts; of course he’s gonna say it’s good.” He did have a point there.

“What about your tutor?”

“Not the most constructive. Tells me what I need to work on more than what I got right.”

“And the other orphans?”

“I’m the moody kid who sits in the corner and stares out the window all day, who’d want to talk to me?”

That wasn’t good. “You mean you don’t have any friends in here?”

“I wouldn’t say that; I talk to them sometimes, they talk to me. I just don’t really get involved with their games. It’s hard to be playful in an orphanage when you’re like me.”

Now I was getting somewhere. “And that is?”

“Two years in foster care, a year here, and I’m almost a teenager. Not exactly the description of a kid you’d want to adopt. So all us older kids, we know we’re stuck in here until we turn eighteen and get the boot. Doesn’t exactly makes us want to be happy about our situation.”

“Well that’s depressing.”

“Really? I never thought of it like that.” His sarcastic comment caused a chuckle to escape me. But I stopped myself short; this was serious.

“So you don’t think you’ll ever get adopted?”

“When I was younger, maybe, but not now. Too old and too damaged.”

That had to be the worst thing I had ever heard. Especially since it came straight from David’s mouth “’Cause of the whole foster thing?”

“Basically.”

Well that wasn’t good. No kid should feel they wouldn’t make the cut, especially a kid as talented as David. He wasn’t really that hopeless, was he?

“So you’re fine with not being adopted?”

“I can cope with reality.” You’re only twelve, David.

I sighed. “C’mon buddy, give me a straight answer.”

He broke his attention from adding small patches of snow to the roof and faced me. “What do you expect? Do I want to live in a home with a couple who just might genuinely love me? Who wouldn’t? It’s just…I know it won’t happen so I just may as well adjust to my situation. Satisfied, Old Man?”

Well that was good. He still had the desire, if not the hope it would happen. “Not really, but it’s not like I can make it any better.”

“You’re wrong about that.”

“Oh yeah? How so?”

He turned towards me and gave me a grin. “Now I know I can paint.”

It didn’t take too long for David to finish detailing his masterpiece. With that he grabbed the canvas off the easel and hung it in what he called “the drying room.” It was a closet with various hooks and latches on the walls where a panting could be hung out of a young child’s reach; probably made by Snowflake shortly after painting over the patch of wall where the younger children had gone “Pollock.”

Once David was satisfied with the placement and he double checked to make sure the canvas was securely attached to the wall, we made our way back to the play room. Due to the size of the crowd, they had moved the television from the break room into the opposite end of the play room; all the Big Brothers were gathered around it along with their charges. David and I decided to join them. We grabbed a couple of chairs and sat in the back; we had come in at the last five minutes of the football game’s fourth quarter. At the next commercial break, since we were in the very back, I decided to continue my conversation with David.

“So who taught you how to paint?” David easily pried his eyes away from what had to be the most disappointing football commercial I had ever seen.

“You mean like today, or who was the first?”

“The first.” The game was back on, but neither of us cared to watch.

“That was my mom. She loved to paint and I loved to watch her. When I was in first grade, every day after school, my mom would give me an art lesson. And it wasn’t the basic model stuff, she taught me how to draw aliens and monsters and cool stuff like that. Then when I said I wanted to paint like her, that’s when she started to teach me how to really paint. You know, like landscapes.”

“Your dad was a lucky man.”

“Yeah, too bad he didn’t see that. He thought her paintings were a waste of time. Fortunately, he left when I was six, so mom didn’t have to worry about the endless criticism.”

Now what was this? “So I take it your Dad wasn’t that supportive?”

“Not of her art. Everything else, he was sorta supportive. He was always pushing me to go out for sports. I have vowed to never kick a soccer ball ever again.”

I could only imagine why. “It was that bad?”

“Let’s just say there were no bench warmers allowed and I couldn’t quit.”

Now it was easier to see. “So that’s it?”

“He wasn’t really there, Old Man. He worked a long shift and when he’d get home he’d just go for a beer. But on the weekends, so long as we were playing catch or something, he felt like a dad should; you know?”

Memories of spending time with my father entered my mind: afternoons of catch in my youth, occasional games of chess during high school; maybe a talk here and there. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

With that the buzzer sounded as the away team quarterback threw a Hail Mary pass which was just barely caught by the wide receiver. There were cheers, groans, and bills of various amounts being exchanged with looks of either annoyance or satisfaction. By that time it was getting late and most of the adults were heading out. I decided it wouldn’t be a bad idea to join them.

“Alright buddy, I think I’m going to take off now.”

“Alright then, see you later.” He had a small sketch book in his hand and he was working on another of his doodles. I turned to leave, but then I realized he had given me a very generous gift today.

“Hey David?”
His head popped up from his work. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for letting me sit in today. And thanks for talking to me.” He stood up and held out his hand, a smile of regular size was on his face.

“Thank you for listening. See you later Old man.” With this I returned the smile and gave his hand a vigorous shake. With that I said goodbye to Snowflake and Lizzie and headed for home.

When I stepped through the door, I had the urge to look at my mother’s painting. Hanging in the hallway was her painting of a magnificent rainbow over a ramshackle shed in an empty lot filled with thick, green grass. That was always my favorite. I turned away and went over to the living room window. I could see tiny specks of white falling from the sky and sticking to my lawn. It wouldn’t be long ‘til December started. And then it wouldn’t be long until it was Christmas. With this thought I shuddered. For the first time since that second meeting, I decided to take a look at the album.

For the first time since I started getting into my new job, I felt that ache in my heart. It was always there, but now I really noticed it. It was just as bad as before. I may have been able to get through Halloween and Thanksgiving without any trouble, but I knew I couldn’t sneak past Christmas. We actually did things then. As the thought of spending my first Christmas without Dashie came into my mind, I could feel the ache grow more and more. As I got ready for bed, I couldn’t get a certain song out of my head. And as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was mouthing the words.
“I’ll have a blue Christmas without you…”

Complications

Oh. Oh! Oh my head! AUGH!

I’ve been having bad headaches for awhile but this; Sweet Celstia, this one takes the cake. All I can do is grab my head and hope for a lull. I need my aspirin; where is it? I slowly manage to bring a foreleg away from my head and I start feeling around my nightstand for the bottle when I remember: I left it on the kitchen counter. That’s just awesome.

I slowly sit up in bed; what would take me seconds now takes me five minutes with all this pain. My eyes are in a tight squint; I don’t know if it actually helps, but I figure it wouldn’t hurt to keep them shut as much as possible. However, this is going to make it much more difficult to walk across my room, make it down my stairwell, navigate my kitchen, and then flail my forelegs trying to find the tiny bottle filled with the magic pills. Why me? Out of everypony in Equestria, this just had to happen to me.

Okay, one step at a time; just have to get out of bed. As I slip my hooves over the side (as impossible as it seems) a wave of even greater pain hits me. My head ends up almost between my legs as I double over. It happened so fast and I had so much momentum I actually rolled forward; spilling out onto the floor. I can only writhe back and forth as I continue to cradle my head.

“Stop. Stop! STOP! FOR CELESTIA’S SAKE WHY CAN’T YOU LET UP!?”

I don’t know why and I don’t know how, but as soon as I said it the pain immediately stopped. I don’t mean it gradually receded; it stopped right after the last syllable left my lips. What is going on? I just dreamed, no, remembered, that I’m supposed to be dead. And now my headaches obey me? Something happened to me and I haven’t the faintest idea what. But I know the pony that does.

When the pain left it was replaced with total exhaustion. I just spend five minutes lying on my back trying to pull my forelegs off the floor. During this time I formulate my plan. I’ll turn over and pull myself along the floor; I’ll think about the next step when I reach the stairwell. However, I may be even weaker than I thought. It’s taking forever just to roll onto my side, much less onto my stomach. It takes a good fifteen minutes to finally flop onto my side. Fortunately, my fatigue is fading faster now and it’s getting easier to move. But before I continue my attempt to finish my roll, something under my bed catches my eye.

I have no idea how it got there, but I’m staring at a small cardboard box. Since I’m still very weak, it wouldn’t hurt to blow some recovery time by investigating. It takes me longer than I would like, but I finally manage to shuffle over to the side of my bed and wrap my hooves around the box. At this point, I am now able to turn over onto my stomach. Now I can take a good look inside.

I still have no idea how it got under my bed; I know I definitely didn’t put it there. But as far as I know this box may have something to do with what’s going on. I take off the top and look at the contents; more questions pop up instead of answers. I see a few birthday candle stubs, several drawings that look like they were done by a foal, two tickets to an “Indy 500,” and a small stack of photos, at least a dozen.

The pictures immediately draw my attention for several reasons. I’m not only in most of them, but in more than a third I’m blank-flanked. And then I see him: the stranger from my dreams. I may not remember what my dreams were about these past couple of weeks, but I remember his face. Sometimes happy, sometimes sad, but all the same he has been in every single dream I’ve had recently. Who the hay is he!? I’ve never seen him before in my life and yet there I am, a blank-flanked foal, cuddling up to him!

This makes no sense; even less than the obedient headaches or the fact I’m still breathing. I’m sure I could find some way to explain that away; stuff like that happens all the time, but this…there’s no way in Equestria you could fake a picture like the ones I see in front of me. Forget the dreams, forget the inexplicable exhaustion, forget the headaches, forget the fact that I should be in the ground right now; that all can come second. Right now the only thing I care about now is finding out where these impossible pictures came from, why I’m with this weird guy I’ve never met who has been haunting my dreams for the past two weeks, and why I have this apparently close relationship with him. I hope it’s going to be a slow day at the library, because Twilight has some explaining to do!

I recovered significantly while I made my discovery, I’m actually able to pull myself up and stand. I’m shaky as I grab my saddle bag and stuff the box inside. I’m barely able to make my way downstairs without tripping headfirst, but by the time I reach the bottom I just feel only mostly tired. I grab my aspirin just in case the headaches come back. By the time I reach my front door I’m strong enough to make a rough glide down to the ground. I’m not going to take any chances; for the first time in a long time I’m opting for hoofing it. It might be boring, but I can’t risk falling out of the sky just when I think I’m back on top. I start walking towards Ponyville; numerous questions popping up in my mind as my house starts to shrink into the distance.

As I walk down the path I pass the numerous expressions of shock that are plastered on the faces of the ponies I pass by. I’m as surprised as they are; I still feel like I should risk it and fly. But common sense keeps me tethered and I just keep walking past everypony. As I eventually reach the market place I’m swamped by numerous ponies all wanting to greet me. I gently push them out of my way; not because I want to, but because that’s all I can do without my muscles aching. Unfortunately, the crowd becomes too thick and I’m stuck. As I try to politely ask the masses to part, I hear a familiar voice.

“What in tarnation is all the fuss about!? ‘Scuse me, sir. Beg pardon, ma’am. C’mon now, no need to shove back; we’re all curious.”

After a few minutes, Applejack finally breaks through and finds me standing in the middle of the crowd.

“Hey there, Applejack.”

“Rainbow? Don’t tell me you’re being a glory hound again?”

“I’m not, I was just on my way to visit the library-quit pushing-and wouldn’t you know that everypony just had to say hi and talk with me.”

After more pushing and shoving, Applejack is right next to me.

“Then why don’t ya just fly there and leave the crowd behind?” A few of the more curious ponies in the crowd turn their gaze towards us;.

“Oh Applejack, I couldn’t just ignore my fans!” This sets the crowd back to their chattering; giving me a chance to explain what’s going on.

I pull Applejack closer to me and whisper in her ear. “I can’t Applejack, something’s wrong with me. I don’t know what, but I was on my way to talk to Twilight. I think she knows what’s going on.”

All the color seems to drain from Applejack’s face when I tell her this. After a few minutes just standing there with her eyes darting all over the place, she finally responds.

“Then let’s hightail it to Twilight’s.” Then she rears back onto her hind legs and shouts out, “FREE APPLES! GET YOUR FREE “SWEET APPLE ACRES” APPLES: THE FINEST IN EQUESTRIA!”

This sends the crowd in a wild stampede over to Applejack’s cart. Apples and ponies are sent flying as everypony starts brawling for their apples. I just know that cart isn’t going to be in one piece when Applejack returns. Before I can give anymore thought to it, Applejack escorts me to the Library. As I much as I hoped, it doesn’t surprise me that I’m starting to feel crummy again. As I pop a single aspirin in my mouth (two worked too well), Applejack knocks on the door.

Over the course of the last two weeks, Twilight Sparkle had managed to read almost every book, tome, encyclopedia, digest, and essay in the library which subjects pertained to magic, memories, the brain and how they all fit together. However, she had also managed to get barely two hours of sleep a night. So after cracking open the latest in a long line of manuscripts, it was not surprising that only ten minutes in she had passed out in utter exhaustion.

For the first time in two weeks, Twilight had managed to get more than eight hours of sleep. She was enjoying a pleasant dream when she heard the knock on the door.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Huh…wha?” She picked her head up, a look of worry spread across her face as she realized there was a sizable puddle sitting in the middle of her book.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Spike, there’s somepony at the door.” She rubbed her eyes, wiped the remnants of drool from her mouth and gave a loud yawn.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Spike! Could you please get the-“ She turned around and saw her faithful assistant taking a nap in his basket.

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK!

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake! Fine! Don’t get your tail in a twist, I’m coming!”

Twilight was sure she had put up the “Closed” sign a few days ago. Whoever it was obviously couldn’t read.

“And yet they came to the library.”

Twilight gave a small chuckle as she stumbled down her stairs and made her way to the door. As she opened it, an orange hoof nearly collided with her face.

“AUGH!”

“Whoa! Sorry there, Twilight. Wasn’t trying to hit ya, but you were takin’...uh, Twi? You don’t look too good.”

Despite her ghastly appearance: deep bags under her eyes, red veins shooting out like spider webs from her irises, and her mane in total disarray, Twilight felt far better than she had in the past two weeks. “What do you want, AJ?”

“Well it’s not actually what I want, but what RD here wants.” At the sight of the Pegasus, a shot of adrenaline coursed through the tired Unicorn’s system.

“Ya see, she told me she’s been feelin’ out of sorts and she decided to come see you about it. Then I decided it wouldn’t hurt to follow her here; ya know, in case she passes out or somethin’ like that. Ya never know.”

And just like that, Twilight lost whatever energy she had. All the adrenaline could do was keep her from passing out from this new development. She had pictured this moment many times, gone through countless simulations of how it could play out. However, most of them didn’t turn out the way she wanted them to, and those that did she knew were only the result of wishful thinking. She had hoped that she would have found a way to fix the problem before Rainbow came to her door. However, despite what could happen if she was told, Rainbow deserved to know what was going on.

“I…I see. How about you two make yourselves comfortable while I go freshen up?”

Applejack and Rainbow Dash came in and grabbed some chairs while Twilight went up to her room to try and remedy her exhausted appearance.

It was a good ten minutes before Twilight came back down. She looked better; at least, her mane was brushed. Her face had a smile plastered across it, but I could tell it was fake; even if she hadn’t looked completely exhausted.

“So, what can I do for you, Rainbow?”

“I’m here for answers Twilight. I remember what happened and I want to know what’s wrong with me.

“How much do you remember?”

“Well I remember getting the life shocked out of me before your magic hit the cloud bank. And since I’m still alive and kicking I wanted to know why I’m still here and not in the ground right now.”

A confused expression spread across her face. “I’m sorry…what?”

“C’mon Twilight, don’t mess with me. I woke up before five this morning and spent half an hour just staring at the ceiling after remembering the experiment. It’s bad enough that you didn’t tell me about this sooner; don’t try to dodge it now. I just want to know how you brought me back and if there were any…side-effects.”

“Rainbow, that’s not what I was talking about. I didn’t even realize you were hit by lightning; the clouds were too thick to see. When my spell cleared the cloudbank, you were gone.”

“Gone?” now it was my turn to be confused, “Gone where?”

“It’s…difficult to explain.”

“Is it harder to explain than these?” I reached into my saddle bag and pulled out the box. I gave Twilight the stack of photos with me and the guy.

“Actually, these make it easier.”

I sat down on one of the chairs and got comfortable. “Well I’m all ears, Twilight. Tell me.” Applejack took the chair next to me as Twilight proceeded to spill the beans.

“Well, I’m still not sure how it happened, but apparently the mix of the magic-infused cloud bank along with my second spell sent you to another world; a place we now know as ‘Earth.’ It took me a week to figure out what had happened, and then another to research a way to safely recreate the spell. All in all, it took us fifteen days to finally get you.”

“But then why am I a blank-flanked filly in some of these pictures? And who’s this weird guy?”

“Because Rainbow, this was a freak accident. It was something that nopony has witnessed for hundreds of years. The last time something like this happened was before our great-grandparents were born. I don’t know how or why it happened, but not only were you sent to Earth, the spell changed you. It rewound your clock, so to speak. When you arrived there you were a blank-flanked filly.”

“But then if it only took you fifteen days, why am I all grown-up again?”

“Apparently time doesn’t flow the same everywhere. While it took us fifteen days to find you and bring you back, you were on Earth for fifteen years.”

“Fifteen years?! Wha-but, that’s…How is that even possible?” Now Twilight looked even more confused than when she had started to talk.

“I have no idea Rainbow. All I know is you were very lucky, because this man” she held up a photo of me hugging the guy “raised you and sheltered you for those fifteen years. Dash, this man raised you as his daughter, loving you and protecting you until we could come to take you back home. If it wasn’t for him, Celestia thinks you would have been in far worse condition. It’s because of your dad that we were able to bring you back in one piece.”

“But…if I spent fifteen years there, why can’t I remember?”

“That was me. I had to separate that set of memories. The reason why I had to…um, that is to say…ugh.”

Twilight spent a few minutes trying to make the words come out, but nothing came. She started to rub her head and squint her eyes, probably thinking that would provide her with the words.

“Because,” Applejack turned towards me and took over the conversation while Twilight collected her thoughts, “somethin’ weird was happenin’ in your upstairs and it was doing something to you. One second you was walkin’ along complainin’ about headaches and the next you was passed out on the ground. You actually stopped breathing for awhile. But then Twi did somethin’ with all those memories in your head and it looked like you got better. She was hopin’ she’d have more time to find a way to put ‘em together before you started going downhill again.”

“So that’s where the exhaustion and the headaches are coming from?”

They both gave a nod.

“And all those dreams I’ve had; they were actually memories from when I was gone?”

“Twi thought it would take longer for them to start coming back. When you told me you dreamt about being with your dad, I knew something was off.”

“You see Rainbow,” Twilight now seemed to be more collected, “Your case is a special one. You have two different sets of memories currently residing inside your mind. Now, I thought I could combine them so you could have both sets, but something went wrong. I still can’t figure out what, but something happened and your two halves didn’t want to be a whole. I’ve been spending the last two weeks trying to figure out what’s going on and how I could fix the problem; but I still can’t find anything!”

“So wait, all this has been happening because there’s another me in my head? That’s what’s causing all the problems?”

“As far as I can tell.” Came her reply.

Don’t ask me why, but I burst out laughing; laughing much harder than I have in a while. As I was clutching my sides I could see concerned expressions on the faces of my two friends. Maybe they thought I had lost it.

“That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Really? You seem…happier than I thought you would be. This is serious, you know.”

“I get that, Twi.” I finally calmed down and wiped a tear from my eye, a final chuckle popping out as I regained my composure. “It’s just, now I know what’s been making me all weird this whole time. And I know how to fix it.”

Twilight and Applejack shared an excited glance before simultaneously replying “Really?”

“Yeah. You just have to get rid of the other me.”

I thought their jaws actually would hit the floor from their reaction. Twilight was the first to snap out of it.

“What?! Are you serious?! You want me to take away the other you?!”

“Well, yeah. If that’s what’s causing all these problems, I don’t need it taking up space in my brain.”

“But…but what about all those wonderful years with your dad?! What about all that love and all those priceless moments? Don’t you want that?”

“Not really.” her jaw dropped again, Applejack’s seemed permanently stuck. “If it’s giving me this much trouble, I don’t need the extra baggage. Nope, just take out the trash, Twilight and I’ll be-” The pain hit me so quick I didn’t even have time to yell, all I could do was grab my head and fall onto the floor.

Twilight and Applejack quickly gathered around me.

“Rainbow! Rainbow, what’s going on?!” Panic was in Twilight’s eyes.

“Head…ache…” was all I was able to groan out.

“I know! She has some aspirin! Here, let me get it!” before Applejack could even leave my side to get the bottle, a final wave of pain crashed against my skull and I was out.

It did not take long for Twilight and Applejack to start freaking out.

“What happened Twilight?! Is it happening again?!”

“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!” before she could slip any further, Twilight took a deep breath, restoring her composure. All panic and fear left and determination took their place. “Okay! Let’s calm down. We got this! I’ve read plenty of emergency preparedness books. AJ, is she still breathing?”

“Yes, but she doesn’t look too good.”

“Okay, help me get her on your back.”

They struggled for a few minutes picking up the unconscious body of Rainbow Dash from the floor. However, they soon had her laid across Applejack’s back and they made their way out the door. While Applejack shifted her body to make sure Rainbow was secure, Twilight flagged down a cab. Soon they were loading Rainbow Dash into the cab with Applejack sitting in shotgun.

“I’ll make sure she reaches the hospital in one piece.”

“Good, now go! I don’t know how much time we have!” With a tip of her hat, Applejack sped away. Twilight ran back into the library and up to her bedroom; she started levitating the more informative transcripts into her saddlebags. As the books floated through the air, she noticed Spike was still asleep in his basket.

“Spike! Spike, wake up!”

With a snort and several groggy replies of “I’m up! I’m up!” Spike was more or less awake.

“Spike, I need you to send a letter to Princess Celestia. Tell her that the Rainbow situation has escalated and she needs to send that team of experts to the Ponyville Hospital as soon as she can.”

With quill and parchment in hand, he quickly wrote out the message. “Got it! But what’s going on Twilight?”

After cramming the last possible book into her already crowded saddle bags, Twilght answered.
“Something horrible Spike, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

With that, she flew down the stairs and rushed out the door towards the direction of the hospital.

Meanwhile, Applejack was keeping a vigilant eye on the road, making sure the drive ponies stayed away from every bump and pothole that came across their path. They arrived at the hospital in record time; the drive ponies helped lay Rainbow across Applejack’s back. She trotted over to the door and slammed it open.

“ALRIGHT ALL YOU DOCTORS! I GOT A PASSED OUT PONY WHO NEEDS HELP! CAN SOMEPONY LEND ME A HOOF?!”

Almost immediately, a small team of doctors and nurses arrived with a gurney. No more than a few seconds after they had her off Applejack’s back and secured on the gurney, Rainbow started having a seizure. Applejack kept up with the hurried pace of the response team as they wheeled Rainbow down the long hospital hallways. Applejack was stopped by a security guard just outside the operating room.

“I’m sorry miss, but only patients and medical staff beyond this point. But the observation room is just through that door.”

With a quick nod, Applejack ran into the observation room. Through the large window she could see the doctors working to stabilize Rainbow Dash. They quickly started giving her all sorts of shots and hooking up all kinds of tubes, the little line on the heart-rate monitor sporadically peaking and rising all the while. As she stood there, watching her friend suffer, all Applejack could do was take a seat and start hoping for the best.

“C’mon now, Rainbow! I know you’re gonna pull through this! C’mon now!”

It was eight hours later when they had finally stabilized Rainbow. Thankfully, she now only had an IV in her foreleg and an oxygen tube running into her left nostril; an improvement from all the wires and tubes she had when she first came in. A small group of five ponies were huddled around the bed; all were watching the chest of the patient go up and down in tandem with the heart monitor.

“I can’t believe it! She stopped by the boutique only yesterday and she seemed perfectly fine!”

“Yeah, and just last weekend she spent all Saturday pranking with me. I had no idea she was feeling crummy.”

“When did this happen, Twilight? If you don’t mind telling us…that is.”

Twilight gave a heavy sigh as she made her way to one of the chairs against the wall; the other four ponies gathered around. “It happened this morning when she came to talk to me about what happened while she was on Earth.”

“But didn’t she remember?” Rarity pried, “I was sure you had said you were going to make it so, darling.”

“I know Rarity, but something went wrong and it didn’t work. What happened today in the library is what happened two weeks ago when we brought her back. Last time, I made it work by rearranging the memories inside her head.”

“Ooh! Ooh! Then why don’t you do it again!? That will make her better, right?!” Despite the gravity of the situation, Pinkie Pie was still bouncing up and down with unbridled enthusiasm.

“The thing is I did it before just to buy myself more time to figure out where I went wrong and how to fix it. I can’t go messing around in her head now; she’s already bad enough as it is. She doesn’t need me to go “fixing” things again.”

“Then what should we do, Twilight?” There was no fear in Fluttershy’s eyes as one might expect; but there was plenty of concern.

“All we can do is wait until the research team from Canterlot gets here. I got a response back from the Princess that they would be here as soon as they could.”

“But that was eight hours ago, Twilight!” Applejack stamped her hoof impatiently. “Them eggheads should have been here by now.”

“They are.”

The small group of ponies turned their heads towards the new voice. They all gave a bow as Princess Celestia walked into the room.

“It is good to see you my faithful student. I only wish it were under better circumstances.”

“The feeling is mutual your highness. I’m glad you’re here. Where’s the research team?”

“They are outfitting one of the examination rooms with all their equipment. That’s why it took us so long; you can only load so much on a royal carriage. The majority of the team members are enroute with their equipment on the train. I had to attend to a few other matters before I made my way here. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

“So long as you are here, everything will be okay.” Twilight let out a sigh. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go talk to some experts. Who came, by the way?”

“Headmaster Magus and Dr. Ink Blot; they are heads of their respective teams. They’re the best I could give you.”

“Thank you, Princess.” She turned towards her four friends “Keep watching her and let me know if there is any change.” And with that, Twilight made her way to the impromptu lab.

As she arrived, she could hear two loud voices from the other side of the door.

“Perhaps the spell was just improperly casted.”

“Magus, we’ve been over this already. You yourself stated it should have worked.”

“That doesn’t mean it still couldn’t be a possibility. At least it’s more plausible than your theory, Dr. Blot.”

“Now separate personas are just as plausible as a miscasted spell, Magus.”

They continued their quarrel, totally unaware of Twilight’s entrance. While the back and forth between two brilliant minds was usually a good source of entertainment, Twilight had work to do. She surveyed the two intellectual figures in front of her.

Headmaster Magus looked the same as when she had been under his tutelage: his coat a resplendent shade of royal blue, his mane a calming violet and, as he was want to do when he wasn’t in the classroom; he wore a simple professor’s frock. As for the good Doctor, his mane was the color of fresh hay, and his coat had the consistency of muddy brown. The other notable features regarding his appearance were the small tuft of hair he regarded as a beard, the pen tucked behind his ear and a pad hanging from his neck, various notes covering the topmost page. The two experts continued their banter, completely unaware of the new pony in the room.

“Come now, Blot. That’s expecting a tad too much from the scattered mind of one pony.”

“And what would you know about the limits of the pony psyche? I’ve seen ponies do things you would think unimaginable due to their disorders, while you just sit in that school all day doing parlor tricks!”

“Excuse me, sirs?” Now the two hot-tempered, yet age old friends finally took notice of the new arrival.

“Ah! Twilight Sparkle! It’s been years since I’ve seen you!”

“I know Headmaster, I’m glad you’re here helping me with this problem. And it’s nice to finally meet you, Dr. Blot. Your dissertations on the mind of a pony provided me with plenty of fresh insight.”

“I’m glad I could be of some service to your preliminary work. See Magus? I know what I’m doing.”

“Hardly, my friend.” Before they could erupt into another argument, Twilight took control.

“Now then gentlecolts, where are we?”

Magus and White both cast a concerned glance at each other before Magus answered.

“I’m afraid all we’ve been able to do is come up with conjecture. Without access to examine Miss Dash, we haven’t been able to test any of our theories this last couple of weeks.”

“However,” Blot cut in, “Now that that’s been rectified, I think we can finally knock off some of the theories on our list.”

“Indeed.” Magus concurred.

“That’s good to hear. I have some ideas of my own. Shall we get started?” With a nod, the three geniuses set to solving the peculiar conundrum that confronted them. After many long hours and even more cups of coffee, they were finally narrowing down the list.

“Alright then, what are we down to?” Twilight took another swig of coffee, her fifth cup that evening.

“Well, since Magus has thoroughly tested your magical prowess and every simulation has been positive, I think it’s safe to say we’ve ruled out magical error. So now all that’s left is a psychological explanation.

“And what’s your main theory, Doctor?” she asked as she rubbed her eyes.

“Well, Miss Sparkle, I believe it has to do with her two personas. You see-“

“Oh come now, Blot. That’s a shot in the dark, at best!”

“When you have convinced a rather arrogant stallion that he is not one or two, but three separate nobles from Canterlot without causing him to break out into a rather violent tantrum, then I’ll listen to you.”

He broke contact with his doubtful colleague and turned towards Twilight.

“Don’t ask, Miss Sparkle, that’s a case I’d rather not revisit-and just so you know, spoons are more dangerous than you’d think. The point is, when you’ve been in the field of psychology for as long as I have, you expect for there to be some faith in your abilities.”

He threw a hairy eyeball in Magus’ direction, “Especially when the other party knows nothing outside of levitating rocks and hurling balls of fire.”

“Fine, fine, just get on with it, Blot.” Magus took another swig from his mug before he began to pace the room, reviving his tired limbs.

“Now, the interesting thing is, I don’t think this is your garden variety split-personality disorder. Nor do I believe this is merely a case of errant memories. If it were one of the two, she would either be conscious and in some control of her mental faculties, or she would be slipping in and out of an amnesiac state. No, I don’t think this has anything to do with her singular psyche but those of her two personas. Unlike most cases where the dual existence is the result of a psychological defense mechanism, I believe the Miss Dashes don’t want to, or perhaps can’t, combine into one entity.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Dr. Blot.”

“I apologize, I’m not used to translating things at this hour of night. You see, it’s not that they are splits of one personality sharing a body, but they are two utterly separate ponies, each with their own lives and emotions. She literally has two ponies in her head. Now do you get it?”

She nodded for a moment, before realizing he still wasn’t making any sense. “Sorry, Doctor.”

With this, Blot rapped his head trying to find a better explanation. Upon finding one, his face lit up with inspiration.

“Let’s try this. Now at first you would think it’s a matter of two halves becoming a whole. But I think that they aren’t halves, but both are already their own whole. In other words, you’re trying to shove two pies into one pan, see?”

And now it made sense. “Fortunately, I do. Please continue, Doctor.”

“Now while that’s confusing enough for the body, just imagine what happens when those two ponies won’t share the one brain. Now, I’m sure that if they would cooperate, we wouldn’t have to worry about her having another episode. So, with that being said, all we can do is sit back and hope that this will right itself.”

With this, Twilight disappointedly put her head in her hooves. This was not what she was hoping for.

“However,” her head sprang back up as Blot continued, “We have to consider if both personas are actually ready to become a whole. You can give a pony some water, but that doesn’t mean they’ll drink it. If either Rainbow is not entirely ready to merge, it would be impossible; no matter how cooperative one of them might be.”

“Then what can we do, Doctor?” He put a hoof on her shoulder and tried to give an earnest smile.

“I’m afraid, Miss Sparkle, that we can’t do anything until Miss Dash wakes up. All I can make are educated guesses at this point. If she comes out ‘complete’ then we need only to monitor her to make sure her psyche is stable. But, if she comes out as one or the other, we need to figure out how to get them to allow the merge.”

“And how can we do that?”

“Well, if it’s the Rainbow from here, we would just try to convince her it would be a good thing for her. But, if it’s the other Rainbow…” his smile faded, replaced with a look of concern “I have no idea. Either she wasn’t ready or she didn’t want to. I believe that whichever persona comes out will be the one who still isn’t ready. And, if the other Rainbow isn’t ready…” his smile returned, bigger and more authentic than before “then I’ll do my best to change that!”

Despite the heavy atmosphere, a yawn was shared by all three ponies. While they didn’t have a clear solution, at least now they had a plan to follow.

“As I tell my patients, ‘The best thing for a mind is sleep.’”

“I believe my former student and I can agree to that, old friend.”

“Indeed. Good night sirs, we’ll talk more about this tomorrow morning.”

The three scholars left the room and made their way to their respective temporary furnishings. As Twilight made her way to her room, she passed several open doorways where she spied her friends all sleeping quietly in their beds. Twilight had been assigned the room across from Rainbow; just to make sure somepony was able to respond in a timely manner. As she passed by the doorway, Twilight poked her head in to check up on her comatose friend. Noticing Rainbow’s head was crooked, Twilight walked into the room and rectified the problem; Rainbow now in a much more comfortable position. As she stood there, watching her friend sleeping peacefully, Twilight couldn’t help but wonder if she could hear her. With nopony around, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I just wanted to let you know we’re doing all we can Rainbow. We’re going to help you out; both of you. I can only imagine what’s going on inside your mind right now…”

A Christmas Revelation

I awake to silence; no shouts of joy or a pair of hooves slamming down on my chest. To my surprise, my clock says it’s nine o’ five; it should be more along the lines of six or five-thirty. It’s Christmas Day; and Dashie isn’t here. Even when she was older she would be so full of excitement on this special morning. And even then she would still pull me out of bed at the crack of dawn just so she could run down stairs and open up her gifts. But now instead of being bleary eyed and out of it, I’m horrified to find myself well rested and fully aware of my daughter’s absence. It’s going to be a long day…

After taking a hot shower and putting on some warm clothes, I make my way downstairs. The thought crosses my mind that perhaps Santa actually came by and left me something. As I enter my living room, there is only one gift underneath the tree: my gift to Dashie. This year I got her some racing goggles; sort of like the ones she wore in the show. Not the best gift, but it’s all I could think of. And I think she would have appreciated it, especially for whenever she’d go out and fly in conditions like today. Didn’t matter is it was sunny, rainy, windy or snowy; if she wanted to fly, she would go out and fly. If only she were here to try them on.

I sit down to a breakfast of coffee and donuts. Usually we’d have cinnamon rolls, but I’m just not up to it this morning. Besides, I’ve never really liked them anyway; but they were always Dashie’s favorite thing to have for breakfast. I run through our usual schedule as I wash out my mug and put away the leftover donuts.

Wake up: Check.

Open Presents: Check.

Breakfast: Check.

So next would be playing with all our new toys. Since Dashie isn’t here and I haven’t given her a “toy” in years, I’d say that’s a check. That’s about half of our schedule right there…and it’s only ten-thirty.

I move onto the next item on the list as I put on my winter gear. I step out into the wide white expanse of our snow-covered yard and make a little snowball. Then I start packing on more snow, and more, and more until I can roll it on the ground without completely bending over. Soon I have a big, somewhat round snow boulder. I repeat the process two more times, the boulders smaller than the big one. I pull out some buttons and a carrot our of my coat pocket. Soon, I have made a snowman. It’s odd that his nose is intact; usually Dashie always took a bite out of it. Since I do not have another person with me I skip the snowball fight, and I don’t really feel like making a snow angel without my angel making hers right next to mine.

All I have left is dinner, and that’s not for another five hours. Standing out in the snow, gazing on my snowman, I feel a wave of depression sink over me. Soon, I feel the desire to go back inside and look at the album. So I go leave the snowy terrain and step into my house, take off my boots, and head upstairs. I pull the album off the shelf and I’m about to start looking through it when the phone rings. Who in the world would be calling me? It better not be my boss, the last thing I want to hear is that I need to do some homework for some idiotic meeting tomorrow.

My ears are blasted by a loud “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

He could not have picked a better time to call.

“Hey there, Snowflake.”

“How you doing man? Have a good day so far?”

“Actually Snowflake, it’s been a bit boring. I usually have an excited, hopped up on sugar, kid at heart pelting me with snowballs right now.”

“That’s good. Uh, I mean, good to hear it’s a slow day so far.”

“So tell me, why did you decide to call on this fine Christmas day?”

“Just thought you might like to know we’re having our annual Christmas Party at the orphanage. You know, since you’re not getting pelted with snowballs at the moment.”

He just said the magic words. “When is it, what can I bring, and I should bring a present for David, right?”

“Whenever you want to come over, whatever grub you can rustle up, and yes, bring a present for David.”

“Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Bye.”

I put the album back on my bookshelf and hurry downstairs. I dash into my kitchen and start looking through my cupboards trying to find something edible I could bring. Finding nothing easy to make or that would be considered a Christmas food, I remember I did buy some tubes of cinnamon rolls for today. I grab the two tubes of dough out of my fridge and stash them in a plastic bag. Thinking that not enough however, I then grab several boxes of mac and cheese and throw them into the bag. Then I hurry down my basement for wrapping paper and tape. I rush back up the stairs and set my supplies on the table. Now I have to think of what I can give to David.

I could give him one of the video games in our collection. But I don’t have any games that David could actually use. Maybe one of my books would work. They just might if I ever read them. I start running through my house trying to find something that could work as a gift, but I find nothing! I’m just about to give up and just settle for giving him a crisp twenty dollar bill when I take notice of my mother’s painting hanging in the hallway. And that’s when it hits me: I know just what to give him. I run upstairs to my office -formerly Dashie’s bedroom- and I find my target hanging on the wall. It’s another one of my mother’s paintings. It’s one that she did when she decided to visit a friend downtown for a couple of days. It’s an abstract of Main Street: the road a royal blue, the apartment buildings different colors of the rainbow, and the sky a bright orange with a rich yellow sun. Yes, this is just what I need!

I carefully carry the painting to the table and do a mediocre job of wrapping it. I’m sure once David sees what it is he’ll excuse the horrible wrapping job. I carefully load my gift into the back seat of my pick-up and stash my bag of foodstuffs on the floor in front of the passenger seat. I feel a rush of excitement flow through me as I make my way to town. I even start singing some carols to pass the time. I make myself slow down as I unload and make my way into the orphanage. But after putting my gift against the lobby wall, I can’t help but hurry to the kitchen where I find Snowflake and Lizzie still in their pajamas.

“Merry Christmas!” I don’t think Snowflake has ever seen me so enthusiastic.

“Merry Christmas! Glad you could come. What’d ya bring me?”

“Some cinnamon rolls and mac and cheese. I know it’s not exactly “Christmas” food, but it’s what I got.”

“Don’t worry about that man; we’re just happy you came!”

I set my stuff down in the lobby and take off my coat and gloves before heading back into the kitchen to help with dinner preparations. This time it’s ham, green bean casserole, my mac and cheese, Lizzie’s famous mashed potatoes, and apple pie along with my cinnamon rolls for desert. It isn’t long before the kitchen is packed with wonderful smells. To my surprise David comes walking into the kitchen.

“Hey Snowflake, did you call-” He stops short once he sees me helping Lizzie put the ham into the oven. A look of surprise is plastered across his face.

“Hey there David, and yes, I did call him.” Snowflake casually answers as he stirs a pot full of macaroni noodles.

“Merry Christmas, Buddy!”

“Uh…yeah. Merry Christmas to you too, Old Man.” His shock turns into a smile as he greets me.

Seeing that I’m there and I’m busy, David goes back to whatever it was he was doing before. It doesn’t take long before we find a lull, waiting for the two ovens to empty out before we can stuff in the rest of the food. Once the ham is sufficiently heated, and the green bean casserole is bubbling, we switch them out for the mac and cheese and the pies. It isn’t more than half an hour later before everything is prepared.

After Snowflake and Lizzie go off and change into matching Christmas Sweaters, Snowflake leads some of the older kids and I in constructing the grand table in the play room. It isn’t long before table cloths are laid, chairs are placed, plates set out, silverware is dispensed, and we bring in the food. It’s four-thirty when we all gather around the table. To my surprise, I find I am the only Big Brother there. Apparently everyone else had somewhere to be this Christmas, unlike Thanksgiving. But this realization disappears from my mind once Snowflake gives some words of thanks and we all sit down to eat.

After our feast, we begin with the festivities that Snowflake and Lizzie have planned. We start off with some Christmas songs, everything from “Jingle Bells” to “Feliz Navidad.” Then we engage in a half-hour session of charades, nobody being able to guess anything except Snowflake; and only because he made up the cards we pull from the hat. After that we break out the board games, everybody playing something different. While everyone else goes for Monopoly and Mousetrap, I find David sitting at the table setting up a game of chess. I walk over and sit down across from him, accepting his challenge of a game. I have yet to succeed in that challenge five rounds later.

Thankfully, Snowflake announces the next event just as David is about to put me in checkmate for the sixth time in a row. It is finally time for the gift exchange. I head to the lobby and retrieve my gift for David. When I return, we all sit in a circle, handing out our gifts one by one. Every child receives a ten dollar bill from Snowflake, and a separate ten dollar bill from Lizzie. Then it becomes a secret santa sort of thing, each child finding their assigned partner. But to my surprise, David doesn’t have one. Even though he has a rather large gift at his feet, no one has come up to exchange gifts with him. But it all makes sense once David stands up and walks over to me and presents his gift.

“Merry Christmas, Old Man. I hope you like it.”

I carefully tear the off the paper, my eyes growing wider and wider as I realize what it is. It’s David’s painting of the cabin in the clearing. I can’t believe he actually gave me this. I flash a huge smile in his direction as I say “Thank you, David. It’s beautiful.”

“I thought since you were there when I painted it, it would be a nice idea to give it to you. Memories and stuff like that.”

“I love it, David. I’m going to find a nice place to hang this up when I get home. And now…” I pulled my gift from behind my chair “Here’s a gift for you.”

He takes it into in his hands and heads back over to his seat. He rips off the paper and stares at the back of the frame. I knew it should have gone the other way. Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to mind and flips the frame over. I have never seen his eyes grow so big. He just sits there for five minutes looking over the painting before he sets it gently down on the ground. He jumps out of his seat, runs over and hugs me. I guess I gave him the right present. Looks of shock are on the faces of Snowflake and Lizzie as I return the embrace. However, the shock doesn’t come to my face until David speaks.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever received. Thank you, Dad.”

Hold on…Did he just say “dad?”

I wasn’t the only one who noticed; Snowflake and Lizzie are unable to get their mouths to shut. David quickly pulls away as he realizes what he just said. He tries to be nonchalant and goes back over to his chair, acting like it didn’t happen. We all just sit there in an awkward silence before Snowflake thankfully breaks it.

“WHO’S READY TO WATCH A WONDERFUL LIFE?!”

Lizzie quickly follows. “I am! I am! C’mon kids!”

Lizzie takes two of the youngest by their hands and drags them to the television set. Soon everyone else follows, including David. But he makes sure to grab the painting before he heads over. All I can do is just sit in my chair, shocked as…shocked. What the hell was that?! I didn’t think he could feel that way! I mean, sure we’ve been getting along, but I didn’t think we were that far along! How could one painting evoke a response like that?! I just sit there staring into space when Snowflake walks over with two mugs in his hands.

“Well, that was interesting. The things kids say, huh?” He handed me one of the mugs, the coffee brings me back to some state of normality.

“Yeah, yeah…it’s…it’s funny what they say.”

“Well, at least now we know David definitely likes you. Ain’t that great?”

“Yeah, yeah, really…great.”

I take a long swig of coffee, trying to regain control of my oral faculties. Thankfully, Snowflake switches to a different topic. We continue to talk until the clock on the wall chimes to let us know that it’s nine. I stand up and stretch as Snowflake and Lizzie begin to send the children off to bed. I grab David’s painting and make my way to the exit, when I see David sitting in front of the television. But, I notice he’s not looking at the movie, but at my mother’s painting. I debate whether to say goodbye or not, before I put the stupid notion out of my mind. It was a slip of the tongue, nothing more, nothing less. I go over and say goodbye to David.

“Alright, have a happy new year, buddy.”

“Yeah, you too Old Man.”

With this, the deed is done and I can be on my way. But then curiosity strikes me. What could possibly have been in that picture that could have made David act so strange? As per usual, I decide to entertain the thought.

“Hey David?”

“Yes?” He turns his head and makes eye contact with me.

“Any chance you could tell me why you liked the painting so much? Just curious is all.”

With this he turns back to the painting and stares for a few seconds. He doesn’t look away from the painting, but he gives his explanation.

“You know, I can’t really explain it. It’s just…I don’t know. I know it makes no sense but that’s what I see every day when I’m in the corner sitting in the rocking chair.”

“Really?” He sees that?

“Yeah, I know it’s stupid, but this painting is exactly what I see whenever I look out the window. The road’s a royal blue, the buildings are all kinds of colors, and even when it’s cloudy I still see that sun. I mean, I don’t see it every time I look out the window, usually I see it when…” He turns away from the painting and looks back up at me. “…it’s what I see whenever I remember my mom.”

My heart exploded. It may be an old meme but it’s accurate.

“Stupid, right?”

“No! No, I got something like that too. Helps when they’re gone, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

This added a whole new layer of complexity to the situation. I gave him the magic picture; no wonder he liked it so much. I wanted to talk to him more about this, but it was time to go and we weren’t scheduled to have another meeting until after New Year’s. But then I asked an educated question.

“Does Snowflake have something planned for New Year’s Eve?”

“Yeah, but I doubt anyone is going to come.”

“Oh, don’t be so sure. I’ll see you then David.”

As I lay in my bed that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about what David had said. “Dad?” Did he really think of me like that? We hadn’t really been doing much. And how could I possibly think this was okay? Never mind the fact that Dashie had only been gone for four months, but I had only known David for three. How in the world could I think his slip-up really meant anything? No, that’s all it was, a slip-up and nothing else. Obviously he didn’t really mean it; it just came out because of the picture. With this I gave a sigh of relief, turned on my side, shut my eyes and began to drift off to sleep…at least, I would have if the thought hadn’t kept coming back.

No matter how hard I tried to explain it away, it wouldn’t leave. Argument after argument, and two hours later, that single “Dad” still hadn’t stopped popping up again and again. This was crazy; maybe I just had too much coffee for tonight. Or, just maybe -a really big maybe at that- it was something worth thinking about. In either case, I wasn’t going to be getting much sleep that night.

I didn’t get much sleep any other night as I continued to think about my conundrum. It went from just being bugged about that slipped “dad” to whether or not I should actually take the role. My reason and my logic tried to put up a good fight, but my thoughts were too stubborn to quit. It made no sense to me, and it seemed highly inappropriate! It didn’t matter if he actually felt that way; I was practically a stranger to him…and to Snowflake. Yeah, it wouldn’t work out, not even if David was serious. Snowflake would put up the red flag and stop this nonsense…right? But did I really want him to?

I went back and forth all week like this, trying to stop the idea from popping back up. But it was no use; I was now contemplating on actually being a dad again. I didn’t agree with it, and I certainly knew I wasn’t going to be the only one to find it a bad idea, but that didn’t stop it from repeatedly getting in my face. I couldn’t figure out a way of taking care of this. So I just buried myself in whatever work I had until New Year’s Eve. I still did not have my solution or procedure, so I couldn’t help but feel some anxiety when Snowflake called the day of the New Year’s party.

“Hey Snowflake.”

“Hey man, how you doing?”

“Good, how are you?”

“A bit worried actually. Not the only one, either.”

“Huh?” He was probably talking about something entirely different than what I thought. Yeah, he wasn’t calling about-

“You haven’t been obsessing over David’s slip up on Christmas have you?”

Great, just great. “No, I haven’t. Have you?”

“Not as much as David has.”

“Really?” That’s interesting.

“Yeah, he’s been acting more sullen than usual. When I walked up to ask him what was going on I could just hear him saying “stupid, stupid; why did I say that?” over and over. Then out of nowhere he wants to talk to me about it. And guess what got him in this state?”

“I’ll make a guess and say it’s me?”

“Bingo!”

“Are you serious?”

“My friend, you’re the first person in awhile to get this close to David. Don’t know if you could tell, but every meeting day he gets three shades lighter than usual. And the few times when you’ve had to miss a meeting, he’s always had this disappointed look on his face; you know, more than usual. He cares if you keep coming, man. He also cares if you want to keep coming.”

“So he thinks I’m going to stop after his slip?”

“It was awkward; why wouldn’t you try and distance yourself?”

He had a point. It’s not like I had to have an answer for this. I didn’t even need to worry about taking on the role or not. I could always back away and take some time to think about it. Yeah, that’s what I’d do. But would that be fair to David? Especially after all the trust he had invested in me? Would he still be as open as he is now? Or would keeping my distance cause him to revert? As I pondered this, Snowflake continued.

”All I know is that he’s afraid he messed things up. You think you could talk some sense into him tonight?”

“Yeah…yeah I think I can.”

“Good. See you at eight; don’t forget to bring plenty of snacks.”

“Alright.”

Now the question was whether I would be talking the right kind of sense. I stopped by a gas station on my way up and loaded my back seat with many varieties of chips, candy and pop. Snowflake had commissioned me to bring the goodies, and he was going to reimburse me in full once he saw the receipt. I didn’t need it; without a daughter to feed and shelter I had cash on hand. And really, it was the least I could do, especially if tonight went south.

Upon my arrival I was greeted by Lizzie and Snowflake. They helped me unload my truck and took the snacks in the kitchen. Once again, I was the only Big Brother there. When I brought it up to Snowflake he explained while some people didn’t get together Thanksgiving, everyone went home for the holiday season. I was the only one on his list he knew for certain that would have cause to show up. I was also the only person he personally called about these types of things. It was flattering; being the only guy. It certainly helped me realize my standing with Snowflake. Maybe tonight could work after all.

At least, I hoped it would. Or did I hope it wouldn’t? While I was feeling more confident about Snowflake, I still wasn’t sure about David. Sure, he had been thinking things over like I had, but that still didn’t mean he actually wanted to go through with it. I was still trying to convince myself not to, either. But letting this situation stew wasn’t going to get anyone any results. At some point this evening I was going to talk to David and Snowflake about it. And since David wasn’t around, I opted to talk to Snowflake first.

“Hey Snowflake?”

“Yes?” He was just about to break open a bag of balloons.

“May I have a word with you?”

He gave a nod and motioned towards the kitchen. When he was sure we were out of earshot of the kids in the playroom, Snowflake began.

“Alright, what you want to talk about?”

“You know how you asked if I was obsessing over the slip-up?”

With this Snowflake started to defend David’s case. “Oh, come on now. It was just a slip-up and I’m sure David won’t do it again. He really likes having you here all the time. If you want to back off for a while, that’s fine, but could you-”

“No. No, that’s not what I’ve been obsessing over.”

He threw me a surprised glance. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I’m saying I’m open to what you think I’m saying.”

“I see…” He looked at the floor and scratched his chin. “You do realize I’m going to have to think about this?” He brought his eyes up and made contact with mine.

“I’m still not finished thinking about it either. That’s why I’m coming to you.”

“Oh?” With this he became more relaxed.

“Yeah. I know I haven’t spent nearly enough time here with David for any of us to make a solid decision. I’m just tired of it coming back again and again in my head.”

“Oh, well if that’s the case then I don’t see why we can’t go this route.”

“You sure?” I never imagined he would be so calm about this. Especially with how early it had come up.

“My friend, if you’re willing to take your time to make sure you’re positive that this is the way you want to go, then I’m willing to help you and David through the process. You know, if it really was more than just a slip-up.”

Well there was some relief. If Snowflake was onboard this made things much easier. Now I just had to make sure David was serious about the slip-up. “Yeah, I know. Do you think he’s open to it?”

“I don’t see why not. He wouldn’t have slipped without good cause to do so.”

“Speaking of David, where is he? I’ve been here for a good forty-five minutes and still no sign of him.”

“Last I saw him he was in the art room painting. He gave me specific instructions that he not be disturbed for another two hours. So I say just put your feet up and kick back. We got plenty to entertain ourselves in the meantime.”

So long as I could talk to him eventually, I was fine with waiting. At least, I thought I was until I sat in front of the break room television. There was nothing good on at all. I would have grabbed Snowflake or Lizzie for some conversation, but they were busy with last-minute decorations and keeping the kids entertained. I saw a Sudoku book on the coffee table in front of me, but I’ve never been good with those kinds of puzzles. That was more Dashie’s thing; what can I say? She had plenty of time on her hooves. With no alternative in sight, I just sat in front of the screen waiting to be entertained. I shut my eyes for one second, and the next thing I knew Snowflake was shaking me awake.

“Decided to go for forty winks, eh?”

“Just about,” I yawned.

He gave a chuckle as his hand rammed into my back. “I thought you’d like to know David’s available now. He’s still in the art room, but he’s got the bulk of his painting finished. Good luck, my friend.”

“Thanks.” I’ll need it.

I poked my head through the door and saw David sitting at an easel on the other side of the room. This time he had painted a fresh spring garden. I gave a knock and got his attention. As soon as he saw me, he looked anxious. I was trying hard not to look the same. Over the past couple of days I had been trying to figure out how I would talk to him about this, but every word I had rehearsed disappeared from my mind. So I just went off the cuff.

“Hey there, buddy; haven’t seen you all night.”

“Uh, yeah. I’ve been…painting.” He seemed just as confused as I was.

“May I come over and take a look?”

“Yeah. Yeah, feel free.”

I walked into the room and made my way over to David and his latest creation. Now that I was closer, I could see so much more going on in his painting. He had made the petals on each flower so crisp and bright that I thought I could smell them. And marching through the dirt were some ants crawling out of the garden box. It was as if you were looking down on an actual garden. He really should be in shows.

“Looks beautiful David. Very nice.”

“Thanks.”

I just stood there awkwardly, trying to come up with some opening words. David continued to work on detailing the painting. I don’t know why this was so hard for me to do. It was a simple question and a simple answer. No need to think about consequences, ramifications, or anything like that. Finally clearing my head and finding the needed conviction, I began the conversation.

“Can I talk to you about something, buddy?”

“Like what?”

I turned around and grabbed the stool of the easel behind me. David put down his palette and brush as I got comfortable on my stool. If I beat around the bush, it could take ‘til next year to get this settled. So I came out very bluntly.

“I want you to be straight with me. Why do you talk to me?”

“Because you’re good company?” He was noticeably more anxious now.

“No. I mean, why did you start talking to me after only our second meeting?”

“I told you. You looked sad and I thought you could use it.”

“So you just open up to the guy you’ve only met twice because he’s sad while you’re still keeping shut around everybody else? I just don’t understand why I get the special treatment.”

Now I had backed him into a corner. For several minutes he tried to come up with a response before he just gave up. “Why do you care so much? I just talk to you because I like it. Why does there have to be a reason?”

“Because David, you called me ‘Dad’ after only three months. I don’t care if it was just a slip-up, there has to be a reason why it happened.”

Now he looked freaked out. His mouth was moving up and down trying to say something and his eyes were rather large. He snapped out of it and just turned back towards his painting. Okay, stay calm. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.

“Does it bug you that it happened?”

He was very agitated. “Obviously. Now everything is messed up and it’s going to be awkward from here on out. It’s just never going to be the same.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” With this David’s head sunk a little. “But not exactly like that.” His head perked up. “It’s been bugging me too. I’m just trying to understand how it happened, buddy; that’s all.”

He started to fiddle with his paints. He would try to bring the brush to the canvas, but his hand wouldn’t stay still. After a few attempts of trying to make it stop, David just put everything down and twiddled his thumbs. We sat there for half an hour, much like our first meeting, as I waited for his response. When he finally worked up the nerve, he mumbled his answer.

“You feel like one.”

“What?”

“You just feel like one.” He turned towards me, “You don’t just let me talk, you actually want to hear what I think. And whenever you come in for a meeting, you got this genuine smile on your face, like you actually want to be there. And I don’t know why, but I just feel…safe, whenever you come. Like, I don’t have to worry about you flipping out if I say the wrong thing. It’s just been a long time since I’ve had someone like that.”

I was shocked. Only three months and he was that comfortable with me? My silence did little to reassure him.

“You know what, just forget it. I shouldn’t have said it in the first place.”

“Why? Do you think I’m not going to want to come anymore after hearing that?”

“Well, yeah. Usually people drop you like a wet sock when you say something like that.”

To his surprise, a smile crept across my face.

“Tell me David, what do you think has been going through my mind all week long?”

“Whether you should stick around out of pity, or just step back altogether?”

“Heh, not even close. I’ve spent the last week trying to get your slip-up out of my head. But you know what? It doesn’t want to leave. And now…I don’t really want it too.”

“What?” He turned his whole body in my direction. His brows were furrowed.

“I’ve gone through every argument I can think of David, and then some. You just keep popping back up into my head saying “Dad.” I know we have to have more time before doing anything serious and I’m not a hundred percent sure of anything at the moment. But if you’re willing to try, then Snowflake says he’ll help us through the process. What do you think of that?

He became very excited at this. “You’re serious? You actually want to?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. It still feels like a hasty decision. But it’s not going away, and I figure we’ll have plenty of time to make sure that both of us are really ready for this. Are you in?”

I stuck my hand out; he turned back towards his painting and stared at it. I wasn’t sure what was going through his mind, I was only hoping it was good. After a few minutes of staring into the petals of his flowers, David turned back towards me.

“So you really wouldn’t mind the thought of having me as your kid?” Thank goodness.

“If you don’t mind the thought of me being your dad.”

With this a smile bigger than any he had ever made spread across his face. He even started laughing. Soon I was laughing along with him. He took my hand and shook it vigorously.

“I’m in! I’m definitely in!”

Despite the complications this now presented, I couldn’t help but feel relieved. I came tonight hoping for the best but planning for the worst. It turned out better than I had thought it could. I still couldn’t understand how it happened or why I felt the way I did, but David and I would have plenty of time to work it all out. As we continued to laugh, Snowflake burst through the door.

“C’MON YOU GUYS! THE BALL’S ABOUT TO DROP!”

We quickly ran out into the playroom where Snowflake, Lizzie, and all the other children were counting down the clock. David and I joined in as well. As the ball started to descend, I felt a wave of conflict strike me. I felt sad that I did not have Dashie here at the start of another year, but at the same time I couldn’t help but be happy I was spending it here at the orphanage. As the timer hit zero, the whole room erupted with a “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Then the children pulled out noisemakers and started blowing like crazy; a few trying to aim it right where the paper tube would smack another kid in the face. As Snowflake and Lizzie began to sing Auld Lang Syne, I noticed that David was smiling up at me. I returned the smile and gave him a small noogie.

“Happy new year, Buddy”

He responded with a soft punch to my arm. “Happy new year, Old man.”

With this we began to laugh, and soon Snowflake and Lizzie were laughing as well. The rest of the children started to break out into giggles, even though they didn’t know why we were laughing in the first place. I felt something I hadn’t felt for a long time: joy, complete and utter joy. I knew from that point on I was going to be just fine, and I knew with upmost certainty that David was going to be fine as well.

Motives & Priorities

On a particularly uneventful evening in March, I got the urge to do something I hadn’t done in a long time. I went up to my bedroom and grabbed a wad of cash I kept under my mattress, a tidy sum of two hundred dollars. This was all I allotted for my gambling fund. Before I won the jackpot that got us the new house, I was a regular at the local casino. Of course, back then I just went in with a ten dollar bill. Now I had a bit more to throw around, but nothing that would sink me. And after we got the new house, I didn’t really feel the need to gamble. Sure, I went out once or twice while Dashie still lived here, but other than that, my paychecks took care of the both of us so there was little point in hitting the casino.

However, it had been a while and I knew I wasn’t going to do anything crazy. So I figured what was the harm in partaking in this small indulgence? As I made my drive up to town, I started thinking about what I would do with my winnings…if I made any winnings. I wasn’t expecting much, my average barely broke fifty dollars. But it never hurt to think otherwise. But then I had to wonder exactly what I would use the money for. I didn’t really want anything, I didn’t have to replace anything, and since Dashie left my utility bills had shrunk significantly. Maybe I could get David something, or maybe Snowflake could use it. Either way, it’d be going to someone who needed it more than I did.

The place had changed since the last time I was there. I guess they finally decided to catch up with the economy boom in our town. It was bigger, brighter, and once I was inside it was easy to tell it was better than before. New carpet, new machines, new dealers that didn’t look seedy; perhaps I should have blue moons more often. I wandered in, wondering where I could get the best pay off. Cards could work, but I had forgotten everything regarding tells and a strong poker face. Roulette? No, never did well with that. Slots were an even bigger risk, but the payoff was promising; I got the new house off of the jackpot. As I struggled to make up my mind, my eyes wandered over to the bar, and there I saw the last person I ever thought would come to a casino.

I shook my head and put it out of my mind. It couldn’t be him; he would never come to a place like this. But that build looked awfully familiar. And the crew cut was sticking out to me. But it wasn’t until I heard him ask for another beer that I was certain of who it was. What in the world was Snowflake doing in a casino? I didn’t think he’d be one to gamble, not with all those kids in his charge. Maybe it was a blue moon thing for him as well? Whatever the reason, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to say hi. He was about half way done with his current bottle as I walked up from behind him.

“Snowflake?” He looked…exhausted, for once.

“Who’s asking? Oh! Fancy meeting you here.” His smile was a few sizes smaller than normal.

“Yeah. I didn’t take you for a gambler.”

“I’m not. This is where I go to drink. All the noise actually calms me. The other bars in town are too quiet.”

“You need calming?” That was an understatement. This was Snowflake.

“I have a very stressful job, man. I need to take a break once in awhile.”

He had a point there. I guess even Snowflake needed to recharge his batteries. But it was still odd to hear the words “calm” and “break” come out of his mouth. After taking another swig, he continued our conversation.

“Speaking of gamblers, what are you doing here? Anything I should be worried about?”

“Hmm? Oh, no; I’m fine. I haven’t gambled regularly for years. And even then I only left home with a ten in my pocket. Don’t worry; this was just a blue moon type of night.”

“Cheers to that.” And with that he emptied the bottle. He put it over to the side with two others. I looked at the label: it was non-alcoholic. He was probably the only guy in the whole casino who drank it.

“Don’t care for anything stronger, eh?”

“I have a car in the parking lot, how am I supposed to drive when up is down and left is right?”

“Good point. Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

I took the stool next to him and asked for a beer. Snowflake asked for his fourth. After popping off the caps, we both took a long swig. I still couldn’t believe I was seeing him so mellow; he was always so upbeat. I decided to find out why he wasn’t.

“So how are you doing Snowflake?”

“Eh, I’ve been better.” Now that was something new.

“Things going okay at the orphanage?”

“Everything’s fine there. My problems are at home.” That would definitely take the wind out of anyone’s sails.

“You didn’t get into a fight with Lizzie did you?”

“No, but she still ended up crying.” He took another swig before rubbing his temples.

“What happened?”

“Her pregnancy test came back negative. She came bursting into the lobby in tears on her lunch break.”

And he was drinking only non-alcoholic? “So you were hoping for a kid?”

“We’ve been hoping for four years.”

“Seriously?” That didn’t make any sense.

“Yeah, it’s not easy for us.”

“I see.” And now we had reached the point where going any further would be awkward. I did want to know why Snowflake seemed deflated, but I didn’t want to know about all his business.

“I mean, nothing’s wrong with me, and Lizzie isn’t barren. It’s just, the egg is having a hard time sticking to the wall; at least, that’s what the doctor told us.”

Too late. At least he was sober when he said it. “You’ve been waiting for a kid for four years?”

“Uh-huh. Why do you think we’re so involved at the orphanage? Lizzie just can’t bear not having a little one all her own, so she takes care of the kids to distract herself.”

“What about you?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Me, I asked for the assignment regardless of that. I’ve always liked kids; always worked with kids too. When I was in middle school, I helped my mom run a daycare. I even worked with kids when I was sent overseas.”

“So that’s why you’re all ripped?” I gave a tap on his bicep. He gave a small chuckle.

“Yeah, that’s why. They shipped me out in ’08, fresh from the academy. Believe it or not, I was the youngest guy in the squad. They’d always stick me with the dirty jobs. Luckily, they also stuck me with taking care of the kids who lost their parents from all the fighting. I did that for the duration of my tour. When I came back to the States, I wanted to keep doing it. So I went and got my masters in psychology and became a social worker. And that’s where I met Lizzie.”

“How long ago was this?” I took another swig as Snowflake scratched his head trying to remember the date.

“Let’s see, met her my senior year and she was a sophomore, so this was around ’14.”

“So did you two hit it off?” He stared at his bottle, a faraway look in his eyes; one I knew all too well.

“Surprisingly no, she thought I was a stubborn jackass and I thought she was a stuck-up snob. But by the time I graduated with my masters, and she only had two more years ‘til hers, we had been going steady for three years. I proposed to her the year after that; that was one of the happiest nights of my life.”

I gave him a nudge and said no more than, “I’m sure it was.”

“Get your head out of the gutter, man!” He acted very serious and dignified, “Ma Snowflake raised a gentleman. We waited ‘til we were standing in front of the altar and said our “I do’s” a year later before we did anything like that.”

“Chivalry certainly isn’t lost on you, is it?” He was probably one of the few people in this building who practiced it.

“No, it is not. I’ve always been a big fan.” He gave a chuckle and continued, “Anyways, we were both working with the city and we were very happy. But something was missing. Working with all those children, we wanted one of our own. But no matter how hard we try, we just can’t seem to get lucky.”

“Sorry to hear that. I think you’d be perfect at it.” He really would. It didn’t seem fair that he’d be kept from fatherhood.

“Eh, that’s how life goes. Speaking of kids, how about yours?”

I finished off my beer. “Huh?”

“I believe you said something like ’kid at heart pelting snowballs at my face.’?”

“Ah, yes. I’ve never told you about my daughter have I?” Had I really not?

“Nope. Would be nice though, considering you’re adopting David and all that implies.”

He had a good point. “Right. What do you want to know?”

“Why she wasn’t around to pelt snowballs at you.” He took another swig as I tried to come up with my explanation. I went with what I had told David all those months ago.

“She had to leave the country. Big important job, very confidential.”

“Government worker, eh?” And he bought it.

“You could say that. Anyways, I haven’t talked to her since she left and I don’t think she’s able to talk to me.”

“How come?” He tilted back his head and finished off his beer. However, he didn’t ask for another one and just turned in my direction, his head propped in the palm of his hand.

“Let’s just say she’s somewhere very far away and they don’t have phone service.”

“I see. Did she know about this?”

“Yes, and it was a very hard decision for both of us. But I knew and she knew that she wouldn’t be completely happy unless she was doing her job.”

“So what, she’s dead to you now?” I never really thought about it that way.

“Maybe, I don’t know; haven’t received a condolence letter yet. I don’t expect her to be back for a very, very long time.” I signaled the barkeep to bring me another beer.

“Must be one hell of a job.”

“It is, believe me, it is. That’s why I came to the orphanage, you know: was looking for a constructive distraction to take my mind off of the depression.”

“She meant that much to you?”

I popped off the cap and took a swig. “More than you know. She gave me the best fifteen years of my life so far.”

“Fifteen? So…you adopted her then?” Crap, forgot about that. It never occurred to me that fifteen would be too short a span of time in this scenario. But I was quick on my feet.

“Yes, she was…misplaced and she needed someone to take care of her, so I did.”

“So you’re no stranger when it comes to stuff like this?”

“When you put it like that, no, guess I’m not.” I silently congratulated myself for not working myself into a hole.

“Then can I ask you a question?” He was sitting up straight now, and a look of concern was on his face.

“Shoot.” I took another swig before I gave him my undivided attention.

“Do you really want David as your son? Or are you doing it for certain benefits?”

What the hell did that mean? “What are you saying?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way; I’m just doing my job. But do you think you’re the first to try and adopt David? Two months after he first came to the orphanage, a couple took to him on ‘Adoption Day.’ This was back when David was shy more than anything else; he actually talked to people back then, even if he wasn’t used to you.”

Those were better days then. “Adoption day?”

“It’s just a day when couples and families come in to see who’s waiting for a home. It’s a first step more than anything else.”

“Alright, go on.”

“Well this couple took an interest in David, and David took an interest in them. I don’t blame him; spending any time in the system is sure to make you want someone to take you home and keep you safe.”

What was he saying? “They didn’t?”

“No, they’re some of those jerks I mentioned when you first started coming. I didn’t learn who they really were until after things happened. They had been going good for five months when it hit the fan. At that point, things had been going so good that David was visiting their house once a week. On one particular visiting day, after David was already visiting, the guy came back asking about David’s trust fund money; he wanted access to it. Now they had seen his files so they knew David had a nest egg. When I explained to him that only David could receive the money, and only once he was eighteen, he showed his true colors. Later that night, the guy called and told me to come pick up, and I quote, ‘the little shit.’”

“What?!” I felt a surge of righteous anger well up from my feet and into my now balled hands.

“As soon as they learned they weren’t going to get a cent of that money, they kicked him to the curb. I brought back a kid who had his heart shattered. He didn’t talk for months after that. You have no idea how relieved I was when I finally got a word out of him. That’s how I had the timetable I was using for you. He’s never been the same after what happened with those horrible people. That is, until you entered the picture.”

I couldn’t believe this, those greedy bastards using David like that. But Snowflake didn’t really think I was like that…did he? “So you think I might be in it for the money? Whatever would I need it for? It’s probably not even that much.”

“David’s mom intended it to be his college fund, and you know how expensive colleges are today. Could buy a lot of nice things with that many digits.”

What I had on my wish list wasn’t something I could buy with any number of digits. “You don’t think I’d be that shallow, do you?”

“I want to say no, but I don’t have that luxury. I already allowed David to have his heart broken once; I won’t allow myself to let it happen again. I’m sure that’s the whole reason he didn’t speak to me for six months. I was the one who approved it and I let them hurt him. I don’t blame him for losing faith in me one bit.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I thought we had a good thing going. But then again, six months isn’t that much time to really tell someone’s character. I still couldn’t believe this though. “What do you want to hear? How can I convince you I’m genuine?”

“Tell me why the hell you came into my lobby. Nobody comes because of my fliers, nobody. I usually pick them off of a list sent from the office uptown.” His arms were crossed and his eyes were narrowed. Fine then, if this was a trial I was going to defend myself!

“Well I did! As I told you, my daughter was all I had for fifteen years and when she left I was in a deep state of depression. Your flier was the first thing in a long time that was able to get me to crack a smile. So I figured coming to you was as good as anything to help me get out of my funk. And it did!”

“Then what’s that got to do with David?”

I put a lid on my anger. I had to remember this wasn’t an interrogation; it was just part of the process. It wasn’t as personal as I thought it was; Snowflake was just doing his job. I blew out a sigh before I continued.

“Because, with my daughter gone I didn’t have a reason to haul my ass out of bed every morning. Once I started meeting with David, I had a reason to live again. And after all those conversations, after hearing about what was going on with him and seeing all the amazing things he can do, I knew I was going to be in his life for a long time. It wasn’t until his slip-up on Christmas that the idea of actually becoming his dad came into my mind; not when you told me about his trust fund.”

“Still don’t buy it. Anyone can put on an act.”

“True, but you have to admit that David likes me.”

“No offense to you or David, but he’s been through so much he’ll reach for anyone that will give him the time of day. At least, he used to, before he was rebuffed. That’s just not enough to convince me.”

Come on, give me a bone here. “Then how can I prove it to you?”

“Would you still feel the same way about him even if he didn’t about you? What if after all this time he decides he made a mistake and forgets about the adoption. What will you do then?”

I hadn’t thought about that as nearly as much as I should. He had a point; I was taking David’s trust for granted. As impossible as it seemed, David certainly could change his mind about all of this. What would I do then? As terrible as that though was, it certainly didn’t rule it out as a possibility. So I gave my answer, honestly yet begrudgingly.

“If he’d have me, I’d continue to come and visit with him. Sure, I’d be disappointed; but I’d be heartbroken if I was out of his life completely. If all I do is visit him once a week, then that’s what I’ll settle for. David means a lot to me.”

“And what about your daughter? Doesn’t she mean just as much to you?”

Another good point; but it was one I had been obsessing over for the last two months. It had taken a long time before I got the answer I now gave Snowflake.

“Of course she does, but she’s left me behind. She’s gone someplace I can’t follow and where I can’t reach her. And waking up day after day telling myself ‘she’s doing what she needs to do; she’s happy,’ doesn’t cut it when I have no way of knowing if she’s actually alive and well. At least with David I’m sure I’ll have some idea how he’s doing; even if I’m not in his life.”

“Since you brought it up, what if I told you someone else, a very nice family who checks out, decided they wanted to adopt David and I agreed. What then?”

Now I knew this was impossible. Not because it couldn’t happen-David certainly could have wound up with a nice family-but because we were already so far ahead at this point that it seemed ridiculous. But it could happen, and that meant I had to think about it. I asked myself if I could give David up like that. Would I give David up like that? What if it didn’t all work out like I thought it would and David wanted to leave? Could I let him go? Why was there so many “I’s”?!

What right did I have to keep David from being happy? If someone else, a real family at that, could give him a place where he could be safe and loved, would it really matter if I was his dad or not? Did I have to be his dad in order for him to be happy? Did he have to be my son in order for me to be happy? This was the question I needed to answer. And unless it ended up with David taking precedence, then it would be the wrong one.

Looking back, I was selfish with Dashie. When I found her in that cardboard box, I may have thought I was doing her a favor, but on further reflection I see I was doing it just to bring myself comfort. I never considered there might possibly be someone else that could have done a better job than I could. I’m sure I did my best and I’m sure I genuinely loved her and she loved me. And I certainly wouldn’t have traded those fifteen years for anything; but were those fifteen years well spent for her? Did I really focus on her happiness over mine? And now I was faced with a similar situation. Was I really the best option for David? If we went through with this, would I provide all that he needed in order to grow up into a good man?

With this, my resolve was shattered. Snowflake had given me the right question and I couldn’t find a good answer. Whatever I said in my favor, he would only throw back in my face, and he would be right for doing so. At that point, I stopped trying to delay the inevitable and swallowed the bitter pill: David didn’t actually need me. He could be just as happy and well off with someone else. And as much as it would hurt to let him go, I couldn’t do anything less if it meant that incredible kid could finally have a real family again. It didn’t matter if it didn’t happen; I had to feel the same way with or without David being in my care or I was just as bad as that horrible couple. I cleared my throat and took a deep breath before giving my answer.

“If it meant that he’d finally have a family who’d give him the love I know he deserves, I’d be willing to part with him. I could pull myself out of bed knowing for certain that he was happy and safe. I don’t know what else to tell you Snowflake. That’s all I got and that’s all I am. If you’re not satisfied then I’ll back off if you think it’ll keep David safe.”

He gave a nod and stood up from his seat. I could only chide myself for not thinking about all this sooner. While I would be happy if we did end up with each other, I couldn’t allow myself to do it out of my own need for someone to take care of. David didn’t need that; he had already been used once. Perhaps I wasn’t as good a choice as I thought I was. As I wondered what this now meant for David and me, I was surprised to hear Snowflake say:

“And that’s why I chose you.”

Huh? “Come again?”

“Granted it was a long shot, but once you two hit it off, I could tell I had made a good choice. The fact you came because of that ridiculous flier and because you were so willing to try even if it was hard told me you just might work. And after all this time with David, seeing him smile every day, knowing that he trusts you despite he’d been burned before; it makes it all click. Lizzie thinks so too. She’s told me plenty of times you’d make a good father for David. I just wanted to make one hundred percent sure your heart was really in the right place.”

Then what the hell was all of that for?! Although I was annoyed, I wasn’t angry: he really did make sure my heart was in the right place. “So this means…?”

“You have my full blessing to adopt David if he sticks with you. Just wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth, is all. Now,” He put his hand on my shoulder and looked me square in the eye. “Do you still feel any reservations?”

“If I do, it’s only because I might be inadequate for David. I’m still not completely sure if I’m the one David needs. I know we’ve been getting along and I love him more than anything, but I still don’t know if I’d be the father David deserves.”

With this Snowflake started laughing, so loud and hard that everyone was staring.

“My friend, it’s because of that doubt that I can tell you you’re the only one for David. And don’t sell yourself short; you’ve put in a hell of lot more time and energy than those posers ever did. I know for fact that you care and that you mean business. You’re the one, and that’s final. Capisce?”

He held out his hand towards me. I turned, finished off my beer and paid my tab before I stood up and firmly shook his hand.

“Yeah, I capisce.”

Letting it out

After that night with Snowflake at the casino, I really stepped into the father role. Over the course of the following months, David and I continued to bond. More talking, more painting, a field trip here and there, I even helped him with his homework from time to time. In the middle of June, after the school year was over, the paperwork was signed, approved and sent into the office. David was legally mine. It was different having a kid in the house again. But it was a good different. Thankfully, he never had any second thoughts about the adoption, or whether I was a good choice. But something did come up that September on Dashie’s Birthday.

It had been a year since she left and it was hitting me harder than I had expected. That day, I had run into town for some groceries, along with everything we needed to make her birthday cake. During the ride back, I felt that distant but familiar sense of depression wash over me. Even with David there, I don’t think I could make it through the day without looking through the album only once. As I made my way up our driveway, the thought came to my mind:

This makes 21.

My heart was physically aching with this thought. On top of the sorrow I felt, I had no idea how I was going to explain the special occasion to David; but I didn’t really care at that point. As soon as I got out of my truck I felt the urge to go look at the album. I left the groceries on the kitchen floor before I climbed the stairs and made my way to my bedroom. When I opened the door, an odd sight met my eyes: David was reading it! He was reading her letter! Now although we had spent all this time together, I never told him or alluded that I, at one point, was a brony; much less that the daughter I had raised was Dashie!

For a few minutes we just stared at each other, David sitting on the side of the bed with the album while I just stupidly stood in the doorway. As carefully as he could, David reinserted Dashie’s letter and put the album back on my bookshelf.

“Hey Dad, glad to see you’re back.”

With what had to be the worst poker face he just walked towards me. I had no idea how I was going to explain this to him. A guy living on his own and he has an album full of pictures with him and a pony: not exactly what you would picture your dad to be. I know we had both grown a lot since that first meeting, but this could be a deal breaker. With this he could possibly decide I wasn’t as good idea as he thought. We shared an awkward glance as he passed by me, before he bolted down the stairs.

Crap!

I couldn’t really blame him, this was as awkward as it could get; especially since he read Dashie’s letter. Not only was I weird guy with an album full of pony pictures, I was also insane. A heartfelt letter from your make-believe pony daughter? He must’ve thought I was a nut case!

“Wait! David, wait!”

As I was on the last steps I could see David slipping out the door. My mind flew back to the day Dashie found out. How she ran away and hid in the forest. How awful I felt for keeping the truth from her until it was too late. And now David was running because I had neglected to tell him the exact same thing! I was not about to let it happen again. I may have lost Dashie but I was not about to lose David!

I burst through the door, ready to chase him down. “David! David, I can explain what you saw!”

He wasn’t anywhere in my field of vision. I started hastily looking left and right hoping to see his figure moving across the lawn, but to no avail. I turned back towards the house and started going for the backyard; hopefully I could catch up to him before he hit the woods. But as soon as I was facing the house I saw him there, sitting on the porch. Thank God.

I slowly made my way towards him, just in case he actually was uncertain about me. As I got closer I saw something I hadn’t seen since that very first meeting ages ago. He had that faraway look in his eyes; I don’t think he even noticed me walk up. From my lower elevation, all I could do was look up at his face and only begin to imagine what he was thinking now.

“David?” C’mon buddy, talk to me.

After a few seconds of staring up at him, he met my gaze.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been looking through your stuff.”

“No, no don’t worry about it. I was actually going to show it to you today.”

“Oh, don’t lie to me. Everybody has something they don’t want anyone else to see. You don’t have to try to make me feel better about what I did.”

This was odd. I was expecting the conversation to be heading in a completely opposite direction.

“David, it wasn’t a big deal, really. You know that, right?”

He went back to staring out at the lawn, freshly cut and the blades all a deep green. I walked up the stairs and joined him on the porch. We hadn’t had a moment like this for awhile. He had been really talkative with me ever since we had that second meeting. And since it had been almost eleven months of lengthy conversations, it didn’t make any sense why he would shut up like this over the album. Well guess what? I was a father again and it’s my job to make sure my kid is okay. He couldn’t pull the silent card on me now.

“You know David, I’m your dad now, and a dad is someone a son can talk to, about anything. So could you talk with your Old man?” My smile did not bring me any noticeable progress. So much like that first meeting ages ago; we just sat and stared at the grass. Ten minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour, an hour; still nothing from David. Since he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, I figured now would be a good a time as any to explain the album and about Dashie.

“Today’s her birthday.”

Finally, I got a response from David. “Whose?”

“Well, you looked at the album and read her letter. You know who I mean.”

“You mean the pony?”

“Yes. Rainbow Dash, or Dashie as I called her. Believe it or not I found her sixteen years ago in a cardboard box.”

He cocked his head towards me.

“Yeah, I found her and took her home. And then for fifteen years I raised her as my daughter. You’ve heard about the show, right?”

He gave a simple nod.

“Alright, so you realize how weird it was that she’d be here, in real life. I thought it was weird, too. However, she was in my home, I didn’t really have anywhere else to take her, and I was living on my own at the time. My parents had died recently and I had been watching the show to help me cope. So, finding her was like an answer to my prayers.”

Now his body was shifted in my direction.

“So, for the next fifteen years I fed her, I played with her, I helped her learn how to fly; I laughed with her, I cried with her and, most importantly, I loved that little filly with all my heart. Of course, we had a brief falling out when she learned the truth; you know, when she learned that she was from the show? You had me worried, I thought you were going to do what she did.”

“What’d she do?”

“Well she was so angry at me that she ran away, off into the woods. I waited in the house for three days hoping she would come back. You see, I was certain she would have flown as far away as she could from the guy who had kept this important truth from her all her life. So on that third day I finally took a walk through the woods, hoping I just might possibly find her out there.”

“Did you find her?” I was surprised he was taking me so seriously. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as hard as I thought.

“Believe it or not, I did; or rather, she found me. We both apologized and everything went back to normal. Things were going good until the day she had to leave.”

“What happened?”

It had been so long since I had thought about it. Today was the first time since our second meeting I actually thought about the day she left. To my surprise, there was only a pinch of pain instead of a wave like I thought there’d be as I recounted the events to David.

“Remember how she was from the show? And you know how there’s five other ponies in the main group?” another nod; he seemed very focused on my story, “Well they have also have this ruler: Princess Celestia; she along with the other five came back to take her home. She’s a really important figure over there, you know. It happened on this very day a year ago.”

“Did she want to go?”

“No, she wanted to stay; and even though I knew she had to go, I sure as hell didn’t want her to leave. But, I knew this day had been coming for a long, long time. I had been dreading it since I brought her through my door all those years ago. What had happened was she had ended up here by accident and they had just figured out how to come get her. However-and I have no idea how it works-while she was here for fifteen years, over there she had only been gone for fifteen days.”

“Really? Only fifteen days?”

“Her friends thought the same thing. So when they learned I had been raising her for all those years, they couldn’t help but feel bad about coming to get her. However, she didn’t belong here. I was the only one she had for fifteen years; she needed to go and be with her real friends and family. The fact she was anything remotely close to what she used to be was nothing short of a miracle. So, after a…really long goodbye, she went back to start living her life again. I’m just glad she wrote me that letter before she left. It is among my most prized possessions.”

David shut up again and returned to staring towards the grass. However, it was only minutes before he continued our conversation.

“Do you miss her?”

“More than you would ever know, buddy. She was, in every possible mode of thought, my daughter. You have no idea how hard it is to know that by the time a month goes by for her, I’m going to be old and gray. However, it wasn’t long after I found that ridiculous flier and ended up meeting you. Since you came along it hasn’t hurt as much. Although she’s gone I still have you. Right…David?”

He went back to staring at the lawn. I didn’t blame him, this was a lot to digest; especially if he actually believed it. However, it wasn’t even two minutes before he replied.

“I’m sorry.”

“Like I said, I was going to show it to you anyway.”

“No, not that; for running out on you.”

“Well, it’s understandable, I’m sure I seem like a crazy geezer.”

“That’s not why I ran.”

“It’s not?” While that was a relief, I didn’t feel relieved.

“When you came through the door and you saw me, I thought you were going to be just like everyone else. So, I just left to save you the trouble of kicking me out.”

“Hold on there; why would I kick you out? And what do you mean by everyone else? Come on David; you can tell me what’s going on.”

“Well…it’s like…urgh! This is stupid! Just…just forget I said anything.”

“David, I’m your dad and I want to hear it. Nothing you say is going to sound stupid to me.”

“Well…it’s a long story and there’s a lot to tell.”

“And we have plenty of time ‘til the sun goes down.” I laid back on my hands and got comfortable. “How about you start from the beginning? Hmm?”

With that he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding it in for a minute before letting it out. “Okay, here goes.”

“I was six years old and in first grade. I was looking through my dad’s stuff, you know, because it looked really cool. I found this bag of white stuff, I thought it was sugar. I tried some but it didn’t taste right. When my mom found me puking in the bathroom she asked me what had happened. I showed her the bag.”

“It turned out it was some coke that my dad had stashed. When my dad came home that night, my mom got into a big fight with him. I don’t remember the words, but I remember sitting at the top of the stairs listening to them yell at each other and my mom screaming. I ran downstairs and found her on the floor crying. She…she told me ‘daddy’ wasn’t going to be there anymore. If I had just kept my nose out of his stuff they may have still have been together!”

So that’s how it happened. No wonder they broke up!

“David…you can’t blame yourself for what happened. It wasn’t your fault.” He then got very vocal and yelled in my face.

“Yes it was! Don’t you get it?! If I had just left it alone I might still have a mom! A year later she found out she had cancer, and a year after that she was gone! She didn’t make enough to keep up the treatments. If he had been there, she might have lived. So after destroying my family you’d think I would have learned my lesson, right? Wrong!”

That’s when I saw the water in his eyes. I could tell he was trying to keep his cool.

“After she died, I was put in the foster system and every house they sent me, I’d go poking through their stuff and they’d get mad at me. Sometimes there’d be more yelling between my foster couple, and sometimes they just yelled at me, but every time they all would send me away. After being repeatedly rejected it was getting harder and harder for them to find me homes to stay in.”

“But, then they put me in the orphanage and I met Snowflake. He didn’t get mad at me for being curious, even if I looked at his stuff. And Lizzie was so nice that I thought I was finally someplace stable. But then adoption day came around and this couple talked with me. I had been moved from home to home for so long I liked that they wanted to talk to me. We hit it off and Snowflake started the process; like me and you. But then one evening I go poking through their attic and the guy yells at me, and then he called Snowflake to come get me. I don’t know exactly what I did, but I know I was looking where I shouldn’t.”

Or the bastard had recently learned he couldn’t get into David’s trust fund. David was taking a deep gasp every now and then; I could tell it was getting harder for him to stay in control.

“After that, I didn’t know what was safe anymore. So I kept my hands in my pockets and I kept my mouth shut. That’s why I didn’t talk to Snowflake for so long. I didn’t want to mess things up with him and Lizzie. But then you came along and you waited a whole hour and a half just to hear me talk. And when you gave me that advice I thought you might understand what I was going through. Then when I had that slip-up you didn’t keep your distance, but you actually liked the idea. You were so much more than that couple; I thought I had found someone I could be safe with: someone who wouldn’t kick me out for being me.”

As the meme went, my heart exploded after hearing this. All this time he was just trying to stay out of trouble. No child should ever have to feel that way. His voice had become cracky by this point. He was still trying to soldier through it.

“ I-I thought you wouldn’t mind it if I looked at your old pictures, but when I saw who was in it and when I saw the letter I knew I had made a big mistake. And then you came through the door and I thought it was going to happen again! But then you didn’t yell at me; you actually told me your secret. I can’t believe I let myself think it would happen again. I know it’s stupid, I know you love me and would never do that to me, but I just...I just couldn’t help it.”

I had heard enough. I leaned over, wrapped my arms around him and buried his face in my shoulder.

“Don’t ever think that’s stupid. You didn’t deserve any of that crap. None of that was your fault, David, absolutely none of it. It wasn’t you, it was them, you understand?”

I could feel his head go up and down in a nod.

“Now listen to me, I’m never going to send you away. You are so very, very important to me, David.”

I could hear his muffled voice, “You…you mean-ean it?”

“With all my heart, David. It doesn’t matter what you do, you will always have a place in this house and in my heart.”

With this his breathing became sporadic; he was still trying to hold it in.

“Let it go, David, just let it loose; it’s okay. Just us out here, I’m not gonna tell anybody.” Soon I could feel seven years worth of pain and sadness seep through my shirt.

“That’s right, just let it all out, buddy. Keep going ‘til it stops.”

Soon he was outright sobbing into my shoulder. He’d turn his head to the side every few minutes for air or to cough. I could only imagine how long he had been holding all of it in. Never having someone he thought he could really talk to or to help him with all this baggage. He didn’t deserve this, any of it. I knew I was not holding the David I had met in the orphanage ten months ago; I was consoling the David who hadn’t had a real source of safety or love since his mom passed away. All this time, keeping everything bottled up because he thought it would make things worse, how could someone so young go through so much?

I know at these moments, the father is to be an absolute rock. But, I was having a hell of a time trying to keep my watered eyes from leaking a tear or two. But, after what I had just heard, how could I not? I couldn’t stand to see my son hurt like this. And it was all because of stupid decisions. How could his dad do drugs, much less keep a stash where David could get to it? And, how could that greedy bastard turn him out just because he wouldn’t get the money? And, how could all the rest of those foster couples turn him away? How could any of them turn away a kid as brilliant and wonderful as David?! But the thing that struck me the hardest was how in the world did I let my son think I wouldn’t care about this?

He was the only thing that mattered now. He was the only thing on this Earth that I could never replace. He was as much my son as Dashie was my daughter. And although I lost her, I know I would never allow myself to lose David.

We sat there a good fifteen minutes before he was able to start calming down. He still had some lingering tears, but at least now he had a smile on his face.

“You feel any better, buddy?”

“Y-Yeah.” He gave one last sigh.

“Good. Ever bake a cake before?”

“A long time ago.”

“Then let’s refresh your memory; come on.”

We spent the next two hours making her cake and getting dinner on the table. After we finished we decorated that cake and sang happy birthday. While we ate our respective slices, he kept asking me questions about Dashie and what she was like. I still couldn’t believe he actually believed it. We talked for a long time about Dashie and how we would celebrate her birthday in the future. During the whole evening, I felt happy. And also something I hadn’t felt for years. It was the same feeling I felt the night of Dashie’s fourth birthday with me. I felt like a father again. At that moment I knew I would never change my mind about how I felt about my son.

I will always love and cherish my daughter, but now I have found another whom I can love and cherish as much as her. Although it hurt for her to go, I finally feel the way I used to be while she was here. Now, I know one day David’s going to have to leave, too, but at least this time I’ll be ready for it. And this time, I know he can and will always come back.

Waking Up

Beep…Beep…Beep…Beep

I go to flail my foreleg at the alarm clock, but something’s off. I can’t lift it. I can’t lift my other appendages either. What did I do last night? I doubt Dad would have let me cheat and have alcohol a year early. I hope it’s not a virus or something like that. The last thing I need is Dad to think of taking me to the hospital.

And just as this thought enters my mind I open my eyes and just stare in horror, the irony of my location not lost on me. I’m in a hospital room with the heart monitor going and I can feel a tube in my left nostril. I still can’t do anything except shift my head! What happened? Where am I?! Did somebody find out about me? Is this a government testing facility?! Calm down Dash, keep your head in the game now! If it was a government facility, I’d have security on me 24/7. Since the door is wide open and I’m not restrained, I can assume this is just a normal hospital. So why am I paralyzed?

I go to try and lift my foreleg again; still no results. Then I try moving it back and forth, I get some response there. So I’m just really, really weak; not drugged. Okay, so I’m not being held here against my will, good. Why am I in here? Dad would know…where is he? If I’m in the hospital he’d be by my side the whole time. Maybe he went out to get coffee, yeah, that’s what it is. I decide to call for him.

“Pops?! Hey Pops, are you there?!”

I get no response.

“Dad?! Dad, can you hear me?!

Still nothing, this isn’t good. I need to get out of here! I just need someone to help me get out. Maybe I could pull one of those “Magical moments”…like E.T. Yeah, that’s my best bet!

“ANYBODY OUT THERE?! CAN SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON?!

I can hear a thump across the hallway. I can’t really see anything with my head in this position; my eyes will go anywhere but forward. Soon I hear a shrill voice in the hallway.

“SHE’S AWAKE EVERYPONY! RAINBOW DASH IS AWAKE!”

Everypony? Wait…I know that voice. Twilight? Is there a TV on somewhere?

To my surprise, a small band of five ponies crowd into my room and start fussing at me. My eyes dart back and forth as I look at them all. How is this happening?!

“Oh, thank goodness you’re all right, we’ve been-“

“You gave us quite a scare, sugarcube.”

“DASHIE! You’re finally awake! We’ve been waiting like, FOREV-“

“Look over here, dear! Do you recognize me? It’s-“

“Rainbow! Are-are you okay?”

What the heck-what the heck-WHAT THE HECK?! Where’d they come from?! What’s going on?! What’re they doing here? What am I doing here?! Where’s Dad!?

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! GIVE ME SOME AIR PEOPLE!”

They all back off and I’m left staring at the ceiling. This is ridiculous.

“Will somebody fix my head so I can look at you all?!”

One of them hits a button and the bed raises my head into an upright position. There they all are, my “friends.” Haven’t seen any of them for fifteen years and poof, they’re in front of me. Now why are they here? And why am I in the hospital? And where’s Dad? He would know what’s going…oh, right.

“Are you okay Rainbow?”

“Oh yeah, just peachy, Twilight.”

“That’s good, you remember. Do remember everypony else?”

“Only by name. We only just met yesterday, right?”

“Uh, sort of.” She has a sheepish look on her face.

“Sort of?” Before I can inquire further, three more ponies enter the room. One in some funky robes, another in a lab coat and the third is wearing her tiara. While everypony else manages to make a little bow, I just manage to nod my head in Princess Celestia’s direction.

“Good Morning, Rainbow Dash. I trust you are feeling better?”

“Sort of, your highness. I’m a little out of place at the moment.”

“Wait, does that mean you’re the one from Earth?” The lab coat speaks up.

“Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, no reason, it’s just we weren’t sure which one of you would pop up.”

Which one would pop up? What’s he talking about?

“Do pardon my colleague’s behavior,” the robed one breaks in, “He isn’t the most tactful of ponies. Don’t interrupt her highness, Blot!”

“My apologies, Princess. I’m still tired and I seem to have forgotten my manners.”

“None taken, Dr. Blot. Now then ‘Dashie,’ I’m sure you are rather confused about what is going on, yes?”

I just answer with a nod.

“Then I’ll leave you in the capable hooves of Headmaster Magus, Dr. Blot, and your friends. I hope you feel better, my little pony.” And with that she was out of the room. As soon as she left, everyone started saying a million different things at me. At this point, I didn’t want all this noise and attention. I just wanted some time alone where I could gather my thoughts.

“Excuse me?” None of them could hear me.

“Excuse me.” They still didn’t respond.

“WOULD YOU SHUT THE HECK UP?!” Now that got them quiet.

“I know you all have stuff you want to talk about, but is there any way you could give me a break? You know, for like an hour or two?”

“I’m afraid we have to run some tests and make sure yo-” before the doctor could speak another word, Fluttershy spoke up.

“She said she needs some time. I know you’re concerned doctor, but she’s the patient and she knows what she wants. So, um, if you don’t mind, could you wait for awhile before you start? Please?”

Oh, the look on Dr. Blot’s face. I wasn’t surprised; she got more outgoing further into the series. Not completely, but she knew when to take charge. She came over to my bed and gave me a hug.

“It’s nice to have you back, Rainbow.”

“Thanks, Fluttershy. You know, for doing that.”

She gave a smile and made her way out, going faster as she passed in front of Dr. Blot. The rest of my friends followed her example and they gave me hugs and “welcome backs’.” With a thoroughly peeved expression, both Magus and Blot left the room; they were probably really pissed. But at that moment, I didn’t really care. All I could think of was Dad, and I didn’t like it. I know it was impossible not to think of him, but it just came back in droves at me. I could just picture him in the living room right now, hopefully reading my letter. Then I began to think about how he would just mope around the house, wishing I was still there.

I tried to picture him moving on, like I know he would, but I just couldn’t stop thinking of him just living there depressed for the rest of his life. I tried to think of him with a hobby, but I knew that was crap. I tried to think of him getting promoted and getting a better job, but I couldn’t see him just working the depression away. So then I thought of him with a family. That he had met a woman and they had a kid, and how happy he would be. But then I pictured the album and my letter just gathering dust on a shelf as he forgot about me, after which I just lost it.

It certainly wasn’t bawling, but my muzzle was getting damper by the minute. I managed to turn on my side, away from the door. No matter which way I went, I couldn’t be happy. Either Dad couldn’t get over me or he completely forgot I existed. And while I would be okay with the latter, it didn’t keep it from hurting any less. I know he’d never do that to me, but it could happen. Then it dawned on me: Dad was going to die. I know everybody dies and I know my dad isn’t immortal, but just the thought of him passing away without me there to comfort him tore at me. And the worst part was I was going so much faster than him. By the time a month was gone, he could be in a nursing home somewhere…if I was lucky.

I just let it flow and took it easy for awhile. I had plenty of time to take it all in and come to terms. I don’t know how audible my crying was, but I’m sure it was loud enough for someone to hear. Sure enough, I could hear the clip-clopping of hooves coming my way. I felt someone put a hoof on my shoulder.

“I thought I said I wanted to be alone.”

“My apologies Miss Dash, I know you wanted more time, but it has been an hour. And I just can’t stand to let a mare cry all alone. You don’t know how agonizing it’s been for all of us, camped outside the door listening to you.” As soon as he said it, I heard the door slam shut in response.

“What do you care, Blot?” I wiped my nose as I turned my head so we were face-to-face.

“You’re a patient; your mental well-being is my top priority.”

“Yeah, well thanks for the concern but I don’t need it. I’m fine.”

“Miss Dash, uh, can I call you Dashie?” I gave a nod, “Thank you; now you wouldn’t believe how many times I have heard the phrase ‘I’m fine,’ whenever tears are shed. Really now, fifteen years of living with your dad and you make the decision to leave in only a few hours? You expect me to believe you don’t have some problems with that?”

“Don’t you think that’s rather personal?” Just like I’ve seen them on TV; they have no sense of boundaries.

“I’m a doctor miss, even worse; I’m a psychologist.” He cracked a big smile, “I do it only to help you.”

“Well I don’t need your help.”

“Dashie,” He put his hoof back on my shoulder, “you’re not helping anyone keeping it to yourself. Now think about it, you have a trained professional who wants to help you and isn’t asking for a single bit in return. I know plenty of ponies who would jump at that opportunity.”

“Well yeah, but why should I tell you anything? I could talk to my friends about this.”

“Yes, and I think that would be a good idea. But just how much are you going to share with them? I know your type: strong, determined, at times stubborn; all excellent leadership capabilities, a veritable rock for all. And that rock can’t crumble, can it? Can’t be any cracks at all, or everything would fall apart, right?”

Dang it…why’d he have to be a shrink?

“Dashie, pretending the cracks aren’t there isn’t going to make them go away. And acknowledging the cracks are there doesn’t make the rock any weaker. In fact, once you know they’re there, it makes it easier to fill them in.”

While he had a point, I didn’t really care. But then again, I had to learn to live here; maybe this would help me make the transition.

“I just want to help you fill in the cracks, that’s all. So can you help me, help you?”

Seeing as how he wasn’t going to quit and this was probably for the best, I figured “What the heck?”

“Fine. Go ahead and do your thing.”

“Good, good.” He pulled up a chair and began his questioning, “Now tell me honestly, how are you feeling?”

“Bad, really bad.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m having trouble letting go.”

“Well that’s perfectly normal in a situation like this. And really, you don’t have to totally forget him to make this work. But go ahead and tell me why it’s hard.”

“I can’t stop thinking about how I left him behind.”

“Do you wish he came with you?” It was almost creepy just how intently he was listening.

“Of course, but I know that’s not possible.”

“And why is that?”

“For one thing, Dad really likes his meat. I don’t think he could take it in a place where we’re all vegetarians.” That got a laugh from Blot. “Second, I don’t think he’d be okay with being here. I know he’d be doing it for me, but he’d be a human among ponies. He’d probably get homesick and lonely too; even though I’d be there. Plus, Celestia said it wouldn’t work out.”

“I see, I see.” He stroked his little tuft of beard. “Still, you’d have liked more time to say goodbye, yes?”

“Heck yes. I would have loved to have had more time, or at least a week’s notice.” There was a bit of a pause before the doctor continued.

“Tell me Dashie, do you feel prepared to reintegrate? You know, with your life here and all that?”

I thought I was, but I couldn’t remember a single thing about my life prior to getting sent to Earth. “No…I don’t. Why is that? I thought Twilight was supposed to restore my memory.”

“Ah, yes. There were complications.”

Come again? “What kind of complications?”

“I wasn’t there to see it myself, but apparently you had a traumatic episode after Twilight reintegrated your memories.” I was amazed at how calm he was, “After that it got complicated.”

What? “How?”

“To put it simply, you split. Then when you went into a coma-no idea why that happened-and you were brought here. You came in Rainbow Dash and woke up Dashie.”

What?! “Coma?!”

“Yes, for two weeks. In that time, we’ve run some tests and concluded Twilight’s spell should have worked. So whatever it is, it’s something in your head.”

“How long have I been here?”

“The hospital? I just told you, two wee…OH! You mean since you returned? A grand total of four weeks.”

This was a sick, twisted joke. It had to be. “A month?! I’VE BEEN HERE FOR A MONTH?!”

“Um…approximately?”

I could hear a constant thumping from the other side of the door. Somebody was probably banging their head. And they had good reason to!

A month! I’ve been here for a month! Dad’s an old man by now, if he lived to be old, that is. Dang it! He’s been living the rest of his life and I’ve just slept it away! How could I do something like this?

“I apologize; I was going to break it to you gently.”

“Oh, really? Wonderful job there, Doc! Great to hear I just slept about thirty years away of my Dad’s life!”

“That’s not your fault, Dashie. This is something we have never seen before; you can hardly blame yourself for this. Calm down and try to let it sink in.”

“Shut up.” Why was I talking to him? I knew nothing about him, what good was he?

“Okay, I deserved that. But if you really want to get back in the game you have to deal with this.”

And with that I forced myself to cool off. He was just doing his job and I was just being given the facts, which was kinder than leaving me in the dark. After a few minutes, I felt level-headed enough to continue. “How? How could I have just done this?”

“It’s very complicated and I’d only make it more confusing at this point. How about I stop talking and let you go back to your alone time, and then we’ll talk later, ‘kay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to be flayed alive.”

I would have chuckled at that comment under normal circumstances, but I had some pretty heavy stuff on my mind. Almost thirty years I’ve been gone…How was Dad doing? Was he still there? Did I really sleep through all of it?

As he had expected, Ink Blot was met by harsh remarks.

“Smooth Doc, real smooth.”

“Don’t think I don’t feel like an idiot, Miss Applejack. I didn’t mean for it to slip like that.”

“Well, it did. I’m sorry you were in that position, Doctor.”

“Not your fault Miss Sparkle, she was going to find out eventually and she was going to react no matter how she was told or who told her. Not to mention, I’m the idiot who insisted I be the one to break the news to her.”

As everyone stood there in the narrow hallway, Twilight tried to move things along. “So what now, Dr. Blot?”

“I believe now would be an excellent time to discuss how to proceed. Upstairs, everypony!”

Everypony was pleased to hear that as they made their way to the more spacious conference room a few floors above their current location. As everypony took their places around the table, Blot gave his diagnosis.

“Alright, at the moment, were she under better circumstances, I’m sure she would have had much more natural recovery. However, with that shocker I’m afraid it has become much more difficult and will take much longer for her to cope and adjust.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Magus was hardly in a cheerful mood, much less a forgiving one. He was finding it harder and harder to understand just why they were still listening, when Blot only seemed to be making things worse.

His colleague replied with the straightest face, “Honestly? I would send her back home.”

“WHAT?! Blot, you do realize you would be jeopardizing the safety of Equestria!?”

“I didn’t say it was a necessarily a good idea, Magus; nor a rational one. However, if the safety of Equestria is our top priority, then this would be the quickest way to get the bearer of loyalty back to normal.”

“And how do you figure that?” Magus began to wonder if it was merely sleep deprivation or if Blot had flipped his lid. That had to be the only reason why he was seriously suggesting this.

“Well there’s that time difference which would provide us with a sizable buffer, and allowing the her time to actually process and resolve her issues will go a long way in helping her become more ready to merge. The mind is a fragile thing and I’m just trying to find the safest route for us to take. Dashie is not Rainbow and I’m not entirely sure that in her current state, Dashie could fill the role. Unless they merge, I’m certain she wouldn’t be able to use her Element; at least not for a long while.”

“You are being utterly ridiculous! You’re supposed to be the head of your team and yet you-“

“Enough!” All eyes turned towards Celestia, Magus kept his mouth from uttering another syllable. With order restored, Celestia conferred with the doctor.

“Dr. Blot, are you certain this would be a good idea? You aren’t just feeling sympathy for her situation?”

“Your highness, I have treated dozens upon dozens of ponies and have provided well over three hundred hours of grief counseling over the course of twenty years. Also, I have taken all the ramifications into account-including those of my learned colleague-and have considered every alternative. Based on what I just saw and heard in that room, this is our best bet. Otherwise, we could possibly be waiting years for Dashie to be mentally stable enough to perform her duties. Until she has her Equestrian memories back, I am uncomfortable with having her reintegrate into our society.”

“So you think taking her back to her father would actually make it easier for her to leave?”

“I honestly don’t know. She’s afraid that he could already be dead over there, so I’m not sure she would even be able to see him again. But, and I know this will sound horrible, a tombstone would grant her more closure than just living here and speculating. However, I’m betting he’s still alive and well, and he’s probably lived a good life. I’m sure that once she sees that he got on well despite her absence, it will take a load off of her mind.”

“And you are absolutely sure this is our best course of action?”

“I can give no guarantees, your highness; only an educated-albeit very educated-guess.”

“There! You see? We’re staking national security on a guess! Isn’t that unbelievably irresponsible your highness?

Magus was shocked to see the determined look in the eye of his ruler.

“Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“Magus, I have one of my Elements of Harmony out of commission. And ever since the failed Changeling Invasion, it has been made all too apparent I’m not as powerful as I believed myself to be. Unless every Element is capable, our kingdom could always be in a state of great danger. I do not like to say this, I do not like being inadequate; but that is what recent events have shown. So, for the safety of our kingdom, along with Dr. Blot’s professional opinion, I agree that she should go back and finish her business.”

“Apologies your Highness, but are you absolutely sure you’re thinking clearly?” While others would have feared expulsion or other forms of punishment from a remark of this nature, Magus had a long standing relationship with the Princess. His blunt honesty was a vital resource for Celestia, and he knew it. However, he was tactful enough to only use it in friendly company; he wouldn’t dare talk to her like this in public.

“Magus, if I had known we would have these complications, I would have granted her more time in the first place. And who knows what could happen in the years it would take her to recover? Besides, I doubt we shall be gone for too long.”

“We?” A look of surprise went between the five mares gathered at the table. Magus could only stare in absolute shock, Blot doubly so.

“Yes. Earth can be a dangerous place and I cannot risk the safety of Dashie, my student or the other bearers. I would also like to check and see how things have changed on Earth since the last time I actually visited. So, Magus, if you are done objecting, you are dismissed and can return to your duties at the academy.”

With a heavy sigh, Magus capitulated. However, it didn’t stop him from trying to change her mind with one last try. “If this is what you wish then I shall comply, your Highness. I still think it’s a bad idea.”

“Duly noted; good day, Headmaster Magus.”

“Good day, your highness.” As he made his way towards the door, he turned to Twilight. “It was a pleasure to work with you, my former pupil.”

“The feeling is mutual.” All present gave a wave as Magus made his way out.

“Are we still on for chess on Thursday, Magus?” Blot called out with a smirk on his face.

“So long as you bring the board. And for goodness sake, try not to do anything else foolish.”

“An outstanding pony of repute such as I?” With a final roll of his eyes, Magus left the room.

“If it is alright with you, your highness, I’d like to have a small respite to figure out how to proceed once you are finished with your trip.”

“Go right ahead Doctor, thank you for your assistance.”

With a swift bow, Blot was out the door and soon behind Magus, their bickering and subsequent laughter filling the hallway.

As soon as the two scholars were gone, Twilight addressed her Teacher.

“So you’re really serious about taking her back?”

“I am, my faithful student. And if you don’t mind, I would like to inform Dashie myself. Why don’t you and your friends run along and pack. We may be there for a while.”

She couldn’t help but smile as she replied, “As you wish, Princess.”

It was a good hour before there was a knock at my door. By now I had been able to at least digest the situation, even though I wasn’t pleased with it.

“Come on in.” To my surprise it wasn’t Dr. Blot who opened the door, but Celestia.

“Princess! What are you-” She cut me off before I could finish the question.

“I have come to inform you that after much deliberation, we have decided the best course of action would be to take you back to Earth.”

Was she joking? She couldn’t be serious.

“I’m sorry, say that one more time?”

“It is clear that due to unforeseen complications, I was too hasty in having you return. While I am unable to turn back time and go back to that day, I am able to take you back so you may see how your father is doing now.”

Oh my gosh, she was. “But Princess, what about the Elements? I have to be here for that right?”

“To be honest Dashie, you are not the Rainbow Dash I have come to know. I am sure in time you could fill her spot, but you would never be the same as her. Rainbow is my bearer of loyalty, and I doubt you could do the same while conflicted about your choice. Not to mention, you would never have the same relationship with your friends from that point on. And that is something I must retain.”

My mind started racing at this possibility, but I couldn’t go back there. I couldn’t let her put thousands of ponies at risk just to make me feel better.

“You don’t know that. I’m sure that I’d get used to being here in time.”

“And how long would that take? Months, years? I’m not as powerful as I thought, Dashie. The Elements of Harmony are my only assurance that my kingdom is safe. And unless every bearer is in top condition, my kingdom is always at possible risk. So the sooner you are back to being whole, the sooner I can rest easier at night. However, you must know that national security is not my only motive behind this decision.”

“It’s not?” That was interesting.

“No, there’s more. It is convenient that this is a safety concern, but that excuse is only to keep the politicians off my back. In reality, this is but one of many tough decisions I have made during my reign, and I cannot help but feel guilty for everything that has happened to you.”

She was the ruler; she had to make those tough decisions. I didn’t warrant special treatment. “I’m sure it’s not your fault for sending me there, Princess.”

“Perhaps, but it is my fault that you made your decision in haste, thereby causing you a great deal of stress, discomfort and confusion upon your return. This is my way to make amends to you, in some small portion; but I still have ample reason aside for that to return to Earth.”

If she had more than guilt, I certainly couldn’t guess what it was. “What is it?”

“The last time I visited Earth, I was hard-pressed to find anyone who was able to stay generous, compassionate or retain the smallest inkling of real integrity, much less remain that way for fifteen years. That’s why I find it miraculous you came out relatively unscathed. Your father is one of the few humans I have met that seemed to genuinely act out of love, rather than convenience. I would like to talk to him and understand why he acted as he did, and for such a long time. However,”

And then she made the strangest face. It was still one of the straightest I’ve seen, but it felt like there was something behind it. Especially in her eyes, they seemed different now.

“While it interests me a great deal, and while it is vital that the bearer of loyalty can fulfill her role, I have agreed to this decision primarily so you can have the goodbye you deserve.”

“The goodbye I deserve” That’s exactly why I didn’t want to go back. Because the goodbye I deserved was staying there until Dad was in the ground and I had time to grieve. “But what if I don’t want to come back? What if I want to stay for a long time?”

“I’m sure that Luna could keep watch over the kingdom for a few days. By that time, I’m sure you will have become more open to returning to Equestria. And we could always give you some time alone if your friends are unable to stay the whole time.”

This was unbelievable. “So you’re serious? I’m really going home?”

“We leave first thing tomorrow morning. I understand that time is working against us, but I require time to make arrangements and you need to recover from your coma. Have a good day and a pleasant evening my little pony, soon you shall embrace your father again.”

I gave the biggest smile I could as she turned around and walked out the door. “Yeah…”

I hope.

Coming Home

It had been a good seven months since he last saw him. But it had been three years since he had seen him in good health. And now, with the most recent diagnosis, the cancer had finally run its course. It had been looking good for a while, but now all they could do was ease the pain. A scant two weeks was all that was left if the diagnosis was accurate. And it was with a heavy heart but with a smile on his face that David took his father home from the hospital.

In the back of his mind he knew this was always going to be the outcome. Sure, they had caught it and the chemo seemed to have worked; but he never stopped expecting there to be a turn for the worse. And if there was something David hated more than anything, it was being right in situations like this. He didn’t like being pessimistic, it was something that brought him and those close to him no small amount of annoyance. However, it had been a part of him ever since the first time he had lost a loved one to cancer. And now it was happening again and it was even harder this time around.

But the smile on his face was far from forced. David had come to terms with his father’s illness a long time ago. Now that he knew the end was in sight, it was hardly the time for long faces. At least he knew how much time there was left, and that made all the difference in the world. He was going to enjoy this time he had left. And he was going to make sure his father had the best last two weeks of his long and happy life.

And with this attitude in mind, David began what he planned to be the first of many conversations over those next couple of weeks as they drove for the old house.

“It’s a good thing I had all those vacation days. It’ll be nice to be back home. I’ve been gone for like, what? Twenty years?”

“Yeah, that sounds right,” His father grunted as he shifted positions in his seat. “Too bad it had to be under these circumstances.”

“Yeah.”

“At least I get to spend the rest of my days in the comfort of my own home and with my family. Although, that hospice person might make things awkward.”

“Taken care of; Annie pulled some strings. She’s going to be taking care of all your needs.”

Aside from being the smartest and most beautiful woman David had ever met or for that matter married, Annie was also a rather accomplished nurse. She saved their little family hundreds on their medical bills.

“That’s nice. And to think she dumped you in high school.”

It had been one of the worst nights of his teenage life. “Funny how things turn out.”

They shared a chuckle as they turned onto the road that led to the outskirts of town. It was only a forty-five minute drive until they were home.

“How are the kids doing?”

“They’re having a hard time about this. They’ll be over in a couple of days. School will be out then.”

“About time. Did they even get snow days this year?”

“That’s why it’s taken so long.”

“Pfft. At least they have a whole summer ahead of them.”

‘A summer without their grandfather.’ thought David. “Yeah, we’re going to go camping again this year.”

“I loved visiting the country. Reminds me the few times you and I went before you grew taller than my shoulder. I’m glad I could join you guys last year.”

“We were too…” ‘Just wish you were coming with us again.’

There was no desire to talk now. No matter what the topic was or however they might both try to tip toe around the undesirable reality, there was nothing either could say to effectively take their minds off of the situation. For the rest of the ride, both men were silent. In what seemed like no time at all, they had reached the long and winding dirt driveway that led to the house. Soon after a few minutes of driving through dust, their destination was in sight. As they parked, David took a moment to remember all the wonderful memories he had had there. Collecting his thoughts, he turned towards his “Old Man.”

“Well, here we are: home sweet home.”

“It’ll be great to have a full house again.”

Both men shared a grin before David hopped out and proceeded to the back of the old F-150 to retrieve a wheelchair. David had spent years trying to get his Old Man to buy something new if not recently used, at least something less than twenty years old; but he was always met with the stubbornness that is shared by all who grow old and grow tired of having their children tell them what to do. And it was the same stubbornness that had gotten their little family through this harrowing ordeal. Time and again, his Old Man would say “This is nothing; just give me an aspirin and we’ll be on our way.” But the man David now helped down from the passenger seat and into a wheelchair was but a shadow of his former self.

The months of bed rest and hospital food had made him thin and weak, and all the chemo treatments had transformed his relatively full head of gray hair into a barren patch of flesh. He had become prone to fits of coughing, steadily ravaging his throat. And the once strong look of life and passion in his eyes had been replaced by a dull haze of apathy and exhaustion.

And now they were kept from entering the house due to the absence of a ramp. No one had ever considered making one up to the front porch, because they all believed he would get over the illness. So David, mildly annoyed, gently picked his father up in his arms and carried him inside. Once David had safely deposited his father on the living room couch he retrieved the wheelchair, helped the “ailing geezer” as he referred himself back into his conveyance, brought him down the hallway to his bedroom, and helped him into his nice, large, warm bed.

“How you feeling Old Man?”

“Sick. Haven’t you noticed?” they shared a chuckle.

“I’ll be right back; I have some baggage to attend to.”

As he made his way to the bedroom doorway, he was caught by his father’s voice. “You didn’t happen to bring your paints?”

He turned back and smiled. “I certainly did.”

“Think I could sit in on a session?” It was hard to keep smiling with this. Just to see the look in his eyes almost robbed David of his conviction. If the Old Man wanted to watch him paint, then David would do one every day if that made him happy.

“Absolutely Dad.”

And with that, David began the process of unloading his baggage. Unbeknownst to David (or his father for that matter), just down the hill to the left of the house, unseen by any human eyes, there appeared what looked to be a large purple bubble, just outside a rather spacious patch of tall grass. But instead of the customary pop, there was a crackling of electricity. As the bubble gave way, seven ponies appeared, all but the tall one had their mane all frizzled. Rainbow Dash, or Dashie, as she was currently known, had come home.

“Gah! Was it that tingly when you came through last time?”

“More, actually.” Said Twilight Sparkle as she tried to straighten her mane.

All present gave a jump as a small shriek and a cry of “My hair! My beautiful hair!” came from a rather put out Rarity.

Applejack readjusted her Stetson, as she chided her “Would you get a grip? Just be glad it’s frizz this time!”

“Aw, I wanted to be all poofy again…” said a somewhat dejected Pinkie.

Once every pony had collected themselves, or in Rarity’s case tried to, Dashie took charge.

“Everybody okay? Excluding the drama queen?”

They all gave a nod, excluding Rarity who was rather miffed that nopony else seemed to care about her trouble.

“Then let’s go.”

They all began to walk in the direction of the house before Rarity stopped in her tracks.

“Oh, silly me, how could I forget? I packed a brush!” Upon levitating said brush out of her saddlebag, Rarity promptly sat on the ground and began to count as she brushed her mane.

Nopony had any scruple leaving her to her business. They had more important things to do. As they drew closer, they burst from the grass and sidled the side of the house. With a few hoof signs from Dashie, they all carefully crept up and peeked around the corner, spying the truck a few yards from the house.

“Ooh! What’s that?!”

“Pinkie!” Dashie brought a hoof to her lips, “Stealth mode.”

“Oh!” from her saddlebag, Pinkie pulled out a pair of night vision goggles she kept for such occasions. “Good thing I packed these!”

Dashie rolled her eyes as she continued her reconnaissance. She had been gone for twenty-nine years; there was no telling if the man she knew as her father still lived here. However, things were looking good since his old F-150 was parked not fifty feet away from her. There was a good chance that he was just inside. But before Dashie could make her move, a man came walking out of the house and towards the truck, grabbed a duffle bag and returned from whence he came.

‘Who the heck is that?’ she thought as she now reconsidered her options. ‘Did Dad get a roommate? Or…could that possibly be his son?’

As Dashie began to consider how to approach the man for questioning, Rarity had finished restoring her mane to its former glory and now came trotting up the hill.

“You know it’s not polite to just leave somepony all alone in a strange place. At least one of you could-“

Dashie gave a harsh whisper “Shut up, shut up, shut-”

“Hello? Is someone there?”

Dashie facehoofed; their cover had been blown. She wasn’t willing to run back down the hill; he’d probably hear them running anyway. And there was little point in waiting for him to come to them. And since this was her house and she had come for her dad, keeping a low profile was the least of her worries. Before anyone could stop her, she rushed out from the side of the house and entered the man’s field of vision, causing his eyes to grow rather large.

“Hi there!”

All the man could do was stare in disbelief.

“Yes, cartoon pony popping out of nowhere; really weird. Do you know anything about the guy who lives here, or used to live here?”

With a few blinks and several rubs of his eyes, the man began to chuckle. “I guess I’m more stressed out than I thought. Maybe a nap; yeah, nap would do me good.”

“Okay look dude; I don’t have time for this. Here,” she stuck out her hoof towards him, “go ahead, I’m real.”

Very slowly and cautiously, the man brought his hand and felt Dashie’s hoof. He rubbed it a bit before he retracted his hand. He began to stutter as he realized he was not hallucinating.

“Okay…yo-you’re real. You are real!” unnoticed by Dashie, a smile had begun to creep along the man’s face.

“Yes, I’m real. Now-“

“No, you’re actually real! This is-it’s just-oh boy.” The man began to laugh as he paced back and forth, digesting this encounter.

“You’re not a brony are you?” That was the last thing Dashie wanted to deal with.

“What? No, no, just follow me.” With this the man ran into the house. Before she went in, Dashie waved the rest of her party to follow. As she stepped through the door, she saw the man run down the hallway. She quickly followed suit. Soon they arrived at the door of the guest bedroom; a room which they had never used while she lived there. The man stood there rubbing his hands and grinning like a maniac.

“You have excellent timing, you know that? He is not going to believe this.”

“Who?”

The man gave a knock on the door and called to whoever it was inside. A voice that sounded so very familiar, but wasn’t quite what she remembered rung in Dashie’s ears.

“You must be out of shape if you’re asking an ailing geezer to help you with your baggage.”

“Dad, you have a visitor.”

‘Dad?’ Did he just say “Dad”? Then that meant…

“Oh, did Ryan and Lizzie come by? Haven’t seen them since Snowflake’s funeral.”

“No, it’s someone much better.”

“Kids got out early?”

“Even better.”

“Well then I have no idea who it is because the only one left on my list is-”

Before the Old Man could finish, the man opened the door and Dashie stepped inside. She was assaulted by feelings of both relief and horror as she saw her father; twenty-nine years older. He was sitting up in bed, staring straight at her with his jaw dropped.

“…Dashie?”

“Hey Pops.” She gave a smile as she walked into the room. Her Pops began to twist and turn, trying to get his old legs out from under the sheets. Upon failure to do so, he tried to drag himself to the side of the bed, but was met with similar results. With this he gave a sigh and leaned back on the head board.

“I’m sorry; I can’t even meet you halfway.”

Dashie ran up to the side of the bed and threw her arms around him, burying her muzzle into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Dad.”

“Don’t you dare; you’re here, that’s all I care about.” As they embraced, David was startled as Twilight came up the hallway and entered the room. She gave a gasp as she saw Dashie’s father in his current condition.

“And you brought your friends! Ha! How in the world did you manage this?”

Twilight spoke up, “Unfortunately sir, there were complications when we got back home. We don’t know why, but her memories didn’t want to fuse so-”

“Ruining the moment, Twilight.” Came the muffled voice of Dashie, still hugging her dad.

“Right, I’ll, uh…we’ll be just outside waiting for you.”

With this, Twilight left to give her friend some much needed time alone. David walked in and just stared, still finding it hard to believe what he was actually seeing. Taking notice of his son awkwardly standing there, the Old Man motioned for David to come over to the bedside.

“Hey, I want you to meet somebody.” Dashie pulled her face away from his chest and looked at the man. “This is your brother: David. He helped me to get a grip after you had to leave.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Dashie.” He outstretched his hand

With some reluctance, Dashie offered her hoof and they shook. “Nice to meet you too.”

With this, their father began to laugh. He turned to his son “You weren’t kidding about it being someone better!” he turned to his daughter “Welcome back, honey!” He wrapped his arms around her tightly “Oh, I’m so glad you came.”

“Me too, Pops, me too.”

She let go and looked her father up and down, still feeling uneasy about his appearance. A frown appeared on her face.

“What? Did I forget to comb my hair?” He chuckled; both Dashie and David remained silent.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad. How about we catch up,” he turned to David “And why don’t you go help your sister and her friends get settled in?”

“I can do that. Not sure how, but I can do that.” With this, David left the room to start arranging sleeping areas.

“Don’t forget we have air mattresses in the storage shed.” The Old Man called out.

“I know, I know.” Came David’s receding reply.

“Now,” he turned to his daughter “What was that Twilight said about ‘complications?’”

“It’d take awhile to explain.”

He sunk under the blankets and got comfortable, then he motioned for her to join him “Then why don’t you tell your Pops a bedtime story?”

With this Dashie cracked a smile. She hadn’t done that since she was a filly.

“Okay then.” She got on the bed and snuggled up to him, her foreleg across his chest and his chin on top of her head. “It all started like this…”

Dealing with it

It was hard finding room for all seven of them, especially Celestia. Luckily, she was able to fit on the couch in the living room and I was able to find places on the floor for everyone else. Dashie set up a cot next to Dad’s bed, caring for all his needs alongside Annie. It was hilarious when she came that first evening to set Dad up with his IV and she saw all of them. She went for the baseball bat Dad keeps in the front closet, waiting for them to strike before I explained what was going on. Then I showed her my Dad’s album, Dashie introduced herself, and Dad and Twilight confirmed that it was all real. She’s still uneasy, but now she’s sort of used to them all.

We had talked about how we were going to explain this to Jake and Lucy when they came on Friday. In the end, we just had them meet the ponies without trying to hide them, and without trying to explain them away. Lucy went crazy when she saw them; she watches the re-runs every Saturday. It blew her mind to find out that Rainbow Dash was technically her aunt. Jake was freaked out at first; he didn’t really know what to do. But once he saw they weren’t going to bite, he thought they were, in his words “really cool,” especially once Dash whipped him at TF2. With the ponies here, it’s definitely made them happy again; Lucy especially.

As for me, I still can’t believe they’re real. I mean, with how he would talk about Dashie and all those birthdays we celebrated, I knew she was real in some way. But just to see her and be able to touch her is rather surreal. All I know is this was the best possible thing that could happen. Now that she’s here, I know my Old Man is going to die with the biggest smile on his face. Not that he wasn’t before, and not that I want him to die, I’m just glad he got to see her again before he had to go. I’m still having a hard time seeing her as my sister; I’m sure she feels the same way about me. (That still doesn’t seem altogether right. But it’s what my Old Man wants and that’s what I’ll give him.)

It is for that reason I was surprised to find her waiting for me outside on the front porch Wednesday afternoon. She seemed out of it, sort of like how I was back when I was younger. If she was, she certainly wasn’t admitting it as she called me over to sit next to her.

“Hey.” She had a smile on her face, but it looked forced more than anything else.

“Hey.” I took my seat next to her.

“So I was just sitting here and I realized we haven’t really talked.”

“Have you talked to Annie?”

“Occasionally, we chat when she comes in to attend to Dad. Don’t change the subject.” She gave me a small punch on my shoulder.

“Okay then, what would you like to talk about?”

“I was wondering just how you ended up becoming my ‘brother.’”

Last time I told this story was at the charity dinner for the orphanage when Ryan had asked me to be the guest speaker; haven’t really talked to him since his dad died. In any case, it was a story I certainly didn’t mind repeating. Though this time, I used the abridged version.

“He joined a program at the city orphanage and he was assigned to me. This went on for a couple of months before things kicked up a notch.”

“What do you mean?”

“When he came for our annual Christmas Party, he gave me one of grandma’s painting’s. It was one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received. When I ran over to thank him I accidentally called him Dad. From then until New Year’s I was worried I had freaked him out and that he was going to keep his distance, but you know what? When he came for our New Year’s bash he said he was actually open to the idea. Six months later, the paperwork was signed and I was legally his.”

“Nice,” she stared out at the lawn, Lucy and a few of the ponies were setting up goal posts, “Sounds like it was really wonderful.”

I did the same. “I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

We sat there watching Lucy playing soccer with Pinkie, Fluttershy and Applejack for a good ten minutes before she continued. “Does he talk about me much?”

“From time to time. Definitely on your birthday; that’s when he won’t stop gushing about you.”

She seemed surprised. “He still celebrates it?”

“It’s like a national holiday in our house. He’d phone the school and tell them I was sick just so I wouldn’t miss a minute celebrating it.”

Now she looked really anxious. “Did he get my letter?”

“He reads it out loud every September seventeenth.”

With this she calmed herself with a sigh of relief. Did she not know he had it this whole time? We both gave a cheer and clapped as Lucy shot a goal past Pinkie. Before we were done, she asked her next question.

“So…when’d he get cancer?”

“He was diagnosed three years ago. They thought they had caught it in time, but it was resilient to treatment. Just last week he said he didn’t want to spend the last of his days in a place that smelled of formaldehyde. So we brought him home.”

With that her smile faded. She watched the soccer game for another few minutes before hopping off the porch and flying away. Obviously something was eating her, but I had other things on my mind at that moment. I hopped down and walked over to the truck and grabbed my paints out of the back seat. After the arrival of the ponies, I didn’t want to take the chance of any of them spontaneously deciding to be artistic; especially Pinkie. I had decided that just leaving my canvas and easel inside was enough. As I opened the door to my Dad’s bedroom I saw Rarity helping him button up what had to be the most expensive looking pair of pajamas I had ever seen.

“What do you think?”

“Now that feels nice. Thank you very much.”

“Oh, don’t mention it, darling; I always love to challenge myself.”

“Well I’d say you passed with flying colors, well done. Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe my son is going to paint.”

“Then I’ll get right out of your way.”

I held the door open as Rarity left to go find another project. I set my box of paints on the floor before I set up my easel.

“Alright, you ready for that session you asked for?” I started looking around for a stool to use.

“You have no idea.”

“What would you like me to paint?”

“A portrait.”

Was he serious? “Really? Now?”

“David, I would have preferred to have had this done when I still had my health, but it’s past that point now. And these are some really fancy pajamas I got on. Can you humor your Old Man and just paint the picture?”

I gave a small chuckle; if that’s what he wanted, that’s what I’d give him. “Any particular way you want to be portrayed?”

“Hmm…get me an umbrella. And see if you can find a cool hat. Make it look like one of those war portraits. You know, cool guy with his sword thrust high in the air?”

“Would you like me to make you a medal as well?” I said as I assembled my gear in front of his bed.

“A medal? Come now David, don’t be ridiculous.”

Now I had to laugh for that one. This had started when Jake was a toddler, but he had gotten more and more ridiculous as the cancer had progressed. It definitely kept our minds off of what was happening to him.

“Just try to make me look good. I know I’m not giving you a lot to work with.”

It didn’t matter; I would still make him look good. As I squeezed my paints onto my palette, I took notice of the contours of his face: all the wrinkles around his mouth from laughing, and all depressions in his head from furrowing his eyebrows. He did that more when I was in high school; I wasn’t exactly the most well behaved kid. But to his relief I mellowed out once I went to college. That was such a long time ago.

I decided to leave the face for last. I used a nice royal blue to match his new pajamas, and I mixed a little yellow into some white to match the cream of his sheets. Once I finished that, I used a combination of browns to almost exactly match the color of the headboard, and I used differing shades of gray to not only match the wall, but to show the contrast of the sun hitting the space over his head. Everything was coming along nicely, so I went back to his face. I took a glance and noticed he wasn’t smiling like he was when we first began. That’s what makes the whole painting.

“Hey Dad?”

“Yes?” I don’t think he even noticed it.

“Could you smile?”

“Oh…sorry; this better?” I know he likes to play it up, but that’s the worst smile I have ever seen him make.

“It would be, if it weren’t so forced.”

“What do you want? I’m a dying man whose kids are having a hard time dealing with it. It’s hard to be happy about that fact.”

He wasn’t really going to bring that up now was he? “Now Dad…”

“Oh, don’t give me your crap, David. You may wear a smile but I know you’re frowning when I’m not looking. Could you just tell me what’s going on instead of putting on a show for me?”

The smile slowly disappears from my face and I give him a plaintive expression.

“There we go, that’s a more believable face.”

“Does this really matter, Old Man?”

“Buddy, when you’re about to bow out and you have loose ends to take care of, you’ll appreciate it if people wear their hearts on their sleeves.”

Of course, he was bringing it up now. “Fine. I don’t want you to go. That what you want to hear?”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t have liked it if you said you hated my guts and would do the cha-cha on my grave.”

With this my smile returned. He always could get me to smile.

“I think that’s what I’m going miss the most.”

“What?”

“Just being able to talk with you.”

“Really? I thought I was more annoying than anything else.”

“Sometimes.” My smile was replaced by a solemn expression. “I’m gonna miss you, Dad.”

His face did the same. “I know. At least we have this final send off, eh?”

“Yeah.”

We stared at each other for a good long while, words neither of us cared to speak aloud being read in the other’s eyes. After our silent exchange, we returned to reality.

“So, let’s finish that portrait.”

With this he gave me his best smile, all his wrinkles and even some teeth. I made them whiter than I’d care to admit, or allow my Old Man to find out. All said and done, it looked magnificent. Even though I made sure to capture his sickly appearance, he still pulled it off. In my painting, I saw a man not defeated by cancer, but a man who was calm and anxiously waiting the chance to laugh when death came for him. It had to be the best portrait I had ever made. I took it off the easel and flipped it around for his inspection.

“How’d I do?”

“I don’t know, he looks rather old, don’t you think? And that bald head is very unbecoming. You know, I think this guy would benefit from hair plugs, don’t you?”

“Maybe a nose job as well.”

His smile grew even bigger. “That’s my boy.”

He opened his arms wide and I obliged him. Even though he was weak, he still had that strength in his embrace; just like that day on the porch so long ago. After a few minutes, we broke off and he looked up to me, this pleading look in his eyes.

“Hey, David?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you talk to your sister for me? I think she’ll listen to you.”

“What’s the matter with her?”

“She’s taking this especially hard. She’s trying to be subtle, but I can tell she’s beating herself up about this. I’ve told her constantly that she’s here, she’s good, she doesn’t have to worry about it, but I can hear her sniffling at night when my back is turned to her and I can feel her eyes every night boring a hole in the back of my baldness as well. So could you talk to her: brother to sister?”

“You think I would do better?”

“I’m sure there are things that when said by a sibling means more than when it comes from a parent’s mouth. I wouldn’t know anything about that, but I’m not going to be content with leaving until she gets it through that thick head of hers that she couldn’t do anything about this.”

It didn’t seem like such a big deal to me, but there was that look in his eyes. This was like that last item on his bucket list he absolutely had to finish.

“Can you do that for me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Promise?”

“I promise I’ll get it through her thick head.”

“Now that’s a good man.”

I left the room and began my mission to find Dashie. I checked downstairs, upstairs, the yard, even the roof, but she was nowhere to be found. I went to the back and saw Twilight looking towards the woods with a pair of binoculars.

“Hey, uh…Twilght?”

She hadn’t even noticed my arrival. “Oh!” the binoculars began to fumble in her hooves and it took her a few second to regain her grip, “Yes?”

“You didn’t happen to see where my ‘sister’ went did you?”

“Siste-Oh! You mean Rainbow?”

“Yes.”

“She went into the woods.” The sun was starting to turn orange. I needed to hurry; a night hike was not on my to-do list for today.

“Thanks.”

“Nice to hear you think of her like that.” She called out as I began to jog away.

I turned back and waved as I made my way towards the woods. With the time I had, I couldn’t go looking all over. For all I knew, she had picked a tree far in the back. So until a better idea came to me, I stuck to the trail. Rays of orange were shining through the canopy when I came to the Tree. It was on of the few landmarks in these woods. It was also one of the most likely places I would find her. However, after a quick scan, I didn’t see any trace of her in its boughs. Maybe she was in the general vicinity.

“Dashie?! You out here?!”

“What’re you doing here?”

I looked up and there she was, lying on the natural platform towards the top, right before the branches spilt apart. I had once considered asking Dad to make a tree house up there. Now my father’s daughter was lying up there with a sad look in her eyes. This was going to be lots of fun.

“I thought it’d be nice to talk some more. You know, all that family stuff.”

“Some family I am.”

“What?” I didn’t quite catch that. In any case, the sun was setting and I preferred to be indoors before it was dark.

“Look, could you please come down?”

“Why?”

“Because I promised a dying man I’d talk to you. It’s a promise I intend to keep.”

She took her eyes off of me and just stared into the canopy. Alright then, two can play at that game.

“I will climb up there.”

She scoffed, “You got a pair of wings?”

“No, but I can get a ladder.”

She popped one eyebrow and gave me a stare of disbelief.

“I’ll come back with one, I’m not kidding.”

Now I had gotten through to her. With a roll of her eyes and an exasperated sigh, she came down and landed next to me.

“Thank you.”

“What do you want?”

“Like I said, just want to talk.”

“About what?”

“Dad thinks you’re beating yourself up about what happened to him.”

She had an indignant tone in her voice. “So? What if I am?”

“You know he’s not going to let it go.”

She gave another sigh before lying back against the Tree. “I know…”

“C’mon, talk to me.” I took a seat next to her.

“Thanks, but I don’t think you can help me.”

“Maybe, but you never know.”

She looked me up and down before putting her head back against the rough bark. After a few minutes, she started talking to me.

“Have you heard about what happened to me over there?”

“Bits and pieces. All I know is that you were out of commission for almost a month.”

“That sums it up; a whole freaking twenty-nine days. I slept through twenty-nine years of his life.”

“You knew that was going to happen though. I mean, not being there.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think I’d skip out on twenty-nine years. I knew I wouldn’t be there for it, but sleeping through it? What kind of daughter does that?”

“Dashie, it wasn’t your fault.” As I expected, it had no effect.

“Dad says it, Celestia says it, you say it, Twilight, Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie and Fluttershy say it, I still don’t believe it. There had to have been something I could have done to wake up sooner.”

She began to stare at the dirt between her legs, regret still in her eyes. I tried a different approach.

“Why is it such a big deal? If it’s hitting you so hard, why did you come back?”

“I’m sort of an important figure over there. I have a really important job. And unless I can access the side of me that’s already comfortable living there, it would take too long for me to fit the bill. So they told me I was coming back and we weren’t leaving ‘til I was good and ready.”

“And you didn’t want to?”

She hesitated for a moment, the words slowly coming off her tongue. “Actually, yes; part of me didn’t. As horrible as that sounds.”

“How come?”

“Tell me David, if you were in my place, and you left Dad healthy and his whole life in front of him, but you could reasonably pop back within the course of week or two, would you be willing to come back?”

“Since he’d probably still be fine, yes, I guess I would.”

“But then what if instead of going day by day like you were supposed to, you skipped almost all of it. When you’re finally in control you find out you missed it all, and on top of that they tell you they’re taking you back. And because they’re the ones who made the decision and you miss him you go along with it. But there’s always this fear that you’ll be coming home to a tombstone. You hope that he’s still alive, but you can’t know for sure.”

“So then you come back and you see him alive and your heart jumps. But then you notice him all old and sick and…” her eyes were all watery at this point, “…and you can’t help but wonder if you could have done something if only you had been conscious.”

She looked up from the ground and right at me, a flame of anger was in her eyes now.

“How about then?”

“I’d feel pretty bad about it.”

She nodded and went back to looking at the ground. “I missed it, David. I missed all of it.”

I tried to think of something to say, but no words would come. So we just sat there, watching the sun fall lower and lower into the horizon. It was actually very nice to watch; I was almost in a trance when her voice snapped me out of it.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being the kid he deserves. You know, for being there for him.” Tears began to slowly roll down her cheeks, “For loving him and keeping him safe this whole time.”

She then buried her face in her hooves, muffling her cries. I began to wonder if I’d be doing this with Lucy some day, over something else. Now would be a good time to practice. I tried to console her.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” She brought her face out of her hooves and closed her eyes.

“No it’s not! I should have been there for him. At the very least I should have been awake and thinking about him.” She turned toward me, she began to sniffle. “What kind of daughter am I?”

I gave the right answer. “A good one.”

“Yeah, right.” And once again she was looking dejectedly at the dirt.

I didn’t really know what to do at this point. I tried to think of what dad would do, but that’s exactly why I was doing this in the first place. So I thought back to those distant memories of Snowflake, and how he’d talk to the kids who had moments like this. It wouldn’t hurt to try it his way. I got up and took a knee right in front of Dashie.

“Do you love him, Dashie?”

“You know I do.”

“Let me hear you say it, do you love him?”

“Yes, I love Dad.”

“Does he love you?”

“Maybe, I’m not so sur-”

I took her by the shoulders and raised my voice a few knobs. “Does he love you?!”

She was making eye contact with me now. “Yes! Yes, he does.”

“And did you do everything you possibly could to be there for him?”

She broke contact with me. I wasn’t about to let her relapse.

“Did you?!”

“Yes! Yes, I guess I did.”

“And are you here now right when he needs all the love he can get from his family?”

This time she stayed focused. “Yes.”

“Then that’s all that matters, Dashie. That’s all he cares about and that’s all I care about. You were a very important part of his life. And if it weren’t for your decision to leave, he wouldn’t have found me. It’s better that you’re here now than any time else. As my Old Man once said to me when I was going through stuff, ‘It’s not your fault; none of it.’” I gave her a smile. “You got that?”

“Yes.” It worked; she was slowly growing her own.

“Alright, now give me a hug, sis.” Huh. That time it didn’t feel weird.

She chuckled as she wrapped her forelegs around me. It was funny hugging her, just because it was weird hugging a pony. But it was eerie just how much she felt like Dad: strong and warm, like everything is completely fine with the world in that moment. When we let go, she still had the smile on her face.

“Thank you David; for taking care of him and,” she gave me a small punch “thanks for being a good brother.”

“No problem.” I got up and we started walking home, the sun almost about to sink into the horizon.

That’s what brothers are for.

Getting Old

All things considered, it’s been a good week. My son is here with his family, my daughter is here with her friends, and I get to eat real food. As much as I appreciated the hospital, their food wasn’t cutting it for me. When I’m not talking to Dashie or David, and when Annie isn’t attending to me, I spend my time looking at my album. I have half of it devoted to Dashie and the other half to David. I can’t help but feel all warm inside as I look back through everything.

Dashie after her first bath, her first birthday, and the picture I took of the kitchen after the first time she tried to make to make me breakfast in bed. A few more flips and she’s kicking a soccer ball in the backyard, getting ready to jump off the tree in the park, and I even got a picture of her flying, albeit blurry. With a few more flips she’s mowing the lawn, sitting on the front porch watching the sun go down, and in the very last photo she’s beaming as she holds our tickets for the air show next to her wide smile.

Then I flip to David. The first few pictures are of us at the orphanage for our meetings, either we’re playing chess, talking, or I’m watching him paint. Soon it progresses to a trip to the city pool, a fieldtrip to the national art museum, and all of us gathered around a campfire with David, Lizzie and little Ryan laughing as Snowflake plays a ukulele. Another few flips and David’s braces are gone, Annie is by his side, and he looks nothing like when I first met him. Then I flip some more and come to when he went off to college, several years later when he brought Annie home, when they got married. And with a few more flips I see my grandchildren being born, growing up, and playing with their grandfather.

How I wound up with all of this is a mystery I’ll never solve. I’m just thankful my album is full of happy memories. Ever since I came back from the hospital, I’ve made it a point to look at this album once a day; just so I never forget just how good I’ve had it. At some point I’m going to have to split these pictures up into two separate albums. And at some point I’m going to need to write that special something for each. As I finish my train of thought and finish flipping through the album, there’s a knock on my door.

“Come in.”

To my surprise it isn’t David, Dashie, or even my grandkids. No, I get a visit from the Ruler of Equestria herself, Princess Celestia.

“Your highness.” I give a nod of my head, she returns the gesture. I motion for her to come over to my bedside.

“What brings a monarch of Equestria to see a dying man?”

“I thought you could use the conversation.” She has a warm smile on her face.

“I’m flattered, though I’m not sure I can give you the proper conversation befitting someone-excuse me-somepony of your status.”

“Believe me; informality would be rather refreshing at this point.”

“Well, then what do you want to talk about? The weather? Earth? Maybe why you brought my daughter back to me?”

Her smile slowly fades as she sits back on her haunches.

“I’m just curious is all.”

She stares into space, gathering her thoughts. She gets up and walks over to my window. As she takes in the view, she starts.

“Do you know how long I’ve been ruler?”

“A millennia?” That’s the bare minimum.

“A bit more than that.” I figured. The internet can only provide a close guess.

“Wow, that’s a really long time.”

“Yes it is; and in that time I have visited many strange and complex worlds; one such world being Earth.”

“And I take it you had a less than satisfactory visit?” She turns and walks back over to my bed.

“It was pleasant at first, but then you had one of your wars. You were still using spears and arrows then. I saw the worst your race had to offer in that time. From your corrupted rulers and nobles taking advantage of those they ruled, to the citizens and common people doing despicable things to each other just out of greed or pleasure. I saw so many things I dare not speak of now, so many close friends turning into things I could no longer recognize; I must confess it scared me.”

“I left and declared it lost to us. I vowed I would never allow that to happen to my people. But that was mere ignorance, for it had already been happening under my rule and I did not want to acknowledge it. However, we moved past the wars and violence eventually; from what I have seen watching your news and watching the town from afar, you still have not achieved peace.”

I gave a nod. “I don’t think we ever will. That’s just who we are.”

“And yet you broke the mold, along with a few other wonderful individuals I have heard about.”

I shrugged. “I’m not anything special your highness.” Her smile returned.

“Compared to the people I once knew, you are far more than anything I could have expected. When my student had discovered Rainbow was sent here of all places, I feared the absolute worst. We would have been lucky to find her breathing, let alone in a healthy state of being. But then we found her with you and my expectations were shattered.”

“What’s your point?”

“I’m trying to understand why you were different. Even though our society was once as troubled as yours, I still held the belief that every human at his core was the same and therefore, to my shame, inferior compared to us. So why did you exercise such generosity and compassion in keeping one of my little ponies safe?”

I readjusted into a more comfortable position as she sat back down. “Hate to burst your bubble, but I’m not as wonderful as you think I am. When I took in Dashie, it was more a matter of finding something that brought me comfort, not necessarily because I felt responsible for her.”

“If that were the case, why bother raising her as your daughter?”

“Because she changed me, Princess. I may have raised her, but I was the one who grew up. If you see anything good in me it came out because of her.”

She gave a nod and seemed to be in deep contemplation. Although it might be rude to interrupt a royal’s train of thought, there was a question I wanted answered. So I spoke up, breaking her out of her trance.

“Why did you let her come back, Celestia? Don’t give me that crap about national security or because it was for her health. From what Twilight has told me, she would have adjusted eventually. You didn’t have to allow this.”

“I could certainly argue that, but there is more truth in your words than I would care to admit.”

She closed her eyes and deeply inhaled. She then looked at me with what had to be the most tired eyes I had ever seen.

“I’m sure you understand that when you are in a position of authority, you must make tough decisions?”

I nodded in reply; I had made many over the course of being a parent.

“I have made so many in my time. Some have gone well, others have soured, but there has always been somepony who has suffered in some way because of it. You tell yourself it is for the best, you tell yourself you can live with the consequences. I have made many ‘right’ decisions, but yet still felt empty afterwards.”

“This incident with Rainbow was the most recent. I knew it was right to have your daughter return with us, return home where she belonged, but all it has caused her and her friends is so much anxiety and pain. Tell me, if you saw the possible opportunity to ease that pain, with valid reason and without real cause for argument or contest of the motives behind your choice, wouldn’t you take it?”

“Maybe I would. So what you’re telling me is...?”

“I took the chance. Although I have made many happy through my actions, it is the tears that refuse to leave me. Once, just once, I wanted to make things right.”

“So…” now it all made sense, “you were tired of being the ‘bad guy.’”

“Pardon me? I’m unfamiliar with the term.”

“We use it regarding our performance as parents. How it works is that one parent is the fun one and lets the children have their way, leaving the other to make the tough decisions and enforce the rules, even if it makes their kid unhappy. Hence, they’re the ‘bad guy.’ Make more sense?”

“That’s an apt way of thinking about it. You’re very wise.”

“I’m just a regular guy who raised two kids. And you’re a tired woman who’s been taking care of a bunch of ‘children.’ We all need to chat with another grown-up now and then.”

She chuckled, “I am, aren’t I?”

“Hey, at least you still have your looks.”

We both laughed at that. There was a pause for a while; I offered her the album and she flipped through the pages with her magic. Here and there she would laugh, and the whole time she was smiling. When she was done, she levitated the book back onto my nightstand. Then she seemed to get serious.

“Tell me, what would you say if there was a way to cure you and I knew how to find it?”

“Well I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea. Why?”

“You may not realize just how much you have done; not only for your daughter or her friends, or my kingdom, but also for myself. You have opened my eyes in a way others could not, and you are so very important to your daughter. It does not seem fair to let the actions of someone such as yourself go unrewarded. I just want to do more than give a simple ‘thank you.’”

“So you want to cure me of my cancer?”

“If you would allow me to.”

Well now that was interesting. Getting cured of this damn cancer? Now that would be nice. There was only one problem with that though.

“And what then? I’d still be old, Celestia; you’d be giving me a few more years, if that.”

“Wouldn’t that be better then dying here and now? You would have more time to spend with your family, to do the things you had planned on doing. Don’t you want that?”

Did I want that? To have that chance of extra time with my family? To visit Lizzie and Ryan and see how the old orphanage was doing now? To be able to visit the country again? At one time, I would have wanted to. Hell, at one point I did want to. But that time had passed.

“You know, if you had come to me with that offer when I was younger, I’d probably take you up on it in a heartbeat. No parent wants less time with their kids. And I’m sure you’d find a way for me to see Dashie along with this cure; despite all that ‘he doesn’t belong there’ stuff?”

“Possibly.”

“Oh yes, definitely would have taken it. But that’s the funny thing of it all: I didn’t stop growing up. You may have been around for quite some time, but you certainly aren’t ‘old’ yet, your highness. I can imagine all those friendships you would have prolonged if death and age hadn’t had other ideas. I’m sure Twilight hasn’t been your only faithful student, yes?”

Her silence was very reassuring. She gave a single solemn nod.

“So here you find the chance to prevent what is, in your eyes, a premature end, correct?”

“As I said, you are wise.” I began to cough violently; Celestia levitated a box of tissues to me.

“Oh, thank you.” I excused myself before hacking into a wad of tissues. I rolled it up into a ball and threw it in the general direction of a nearby garbage can. “I’m honored your highness, I really am. But you know better than anybody that all good things have to come to an end.”

“Perhaps, but it doesn’t have to necessarily end now.” And that’s when I felt a smile spread across my face.

“And that’s why you aren’t ‘old’ yet. And to be fair, I didn’t really become ‘old’ until I became truly bedridden after the summer of last year. I’ve had three years to mourn all those possible moments, those future memories, the things I wanted to do. I’m sure everyone does when death is looking straight at them. But then, eventually, you get over the fact you’re going to miss out on what could be, and realize when you’ve been there for what has been. I’ve had a wonderful life and I’ve had a wonderful family, what more could a guy ask for?”

“Forgive me, but why wouldn’t you want to prolong that?”

“Like I said, you aren’t ‘old.’ You may be tired, you may have been around the block a couple of times, but you have the rest of your life ahead of you. Age is a funny thing. When you’re young, you never want life to end. But then you get wrinkly, your bones ache, and you never seem to have any energy left. Life becomes closed to you.”

“Then you get sick, and no matter what they prescribe, you can never seem to get the pain to go away. There comes a point where you just want it to stop…where you want it all to stop. And that’s when you’re old: when you’re finally okay with just laying back and letting go. So thanks but no thanks, it’s time for my story to end your highness. And it’s been a long and wonderful story.”

“Believe it or not, I understand completely. You are not the only one who has taught me that particular lesson. But I thought there would be know harm in seeing if you were interested.”

“Oh, thank goodness. You had me going there. I really didn’t want to be the ‘old wise man’ of this conversation.”

Her smile was back. “I’m sure your family will not be the only ones who will miss you. I’m glad to have had the chance to meet you.”

She extended a hoof; I took it with my hand and gently shook it. “And I’m glad I had the chance to raise Dashie. Thank you for letting her come back to see me off.”

“Just be glad we were able to get Rarity out of the bathroom. Another ten minutes and we might have missed you.”

We shared another laugh before she went for the door. As she was about to leave I called to her.

“Hey, Celestia.”

She turned her head in my direction.

“Thank you for talking to an old man, your highness.”

She still had that warm smile. “And thank you for listening to a tired mare.”

As she closed the door behind her, I wondered if I had just made the right choice. It didn’t take long to cast the thought from my mind as I started looking through my album again. Every memory, every moment, every smile stuck out at me as I turned the pages. I couldn’t stop smiling, even after I had closed the book. I pulled myself over to my nightstand and from the drawer I pulled out two brand new photo albums, some stationary and a pencil. I began to sort the pictures out and start inserting them into their respective albums.

My end is fast approaching me. At the beginning you hope it’s going to pass, that you’ll be another success story. But then nothing seems to make a lasting difference and you are faced with your own mortality. I’m fine with death, I really am, but I’m not so sure about the pain. It’s bad enough as it is, but it is getting worse. And Annie says I can’t have a higher dosage of morphine. For the first time this week, I’m afraid.

I know it’s coming, I know it’s going to hurt, and I’m not sure if I can handle it. Not just the physical pain, but having to say goodbye. I might be fine with saying it, but that doesn’t mean I really want to. I just I don’t know what will happen to my kids. I was a wreck when my parents died, what will happen to them? I know David has Annie and the kids, but what about my daughter? What happens if that fuse doesn’t work? What if she’s still stuck without her other memories? I do not want my daughter moping around all day, and so help me if she starts taking walks I am going to haunt her.

I know she has her friends, but she’s basically only had about two weeks to not only say goodbye once, and then not only to have to see her pops all sick and old, but she’s going to have to say goodbye again! I don’t know what will happen. And that’s what scares me. My mind tells me they’re all going to be fine, that I’ll just become a happy memory for all of them. But another part of me tells me they’re going to fall apart and they just might not be able to pick up the pieces.

Before I go any farther, I stop and ask myself if they would really let that happen. My kids are strong, stubborn, and I know they’ll get along fine once I’ve kicked the bucket. However, that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t like something to remember me by. I grab the stationary and begin to write. Hopefully, this will make it easier for them to let go.

"Goodbye" or "A new beginning"

The horn sounds and I’m off. All the other cars are soon eating my dust. But there’s this red car that’s slowly making his way to the front. I ease up a bit and let them catch up. Ha! Just look at that cocky grin on his face. He’s already forgotten who holds the lap record. After allowing him one inch, I speed ahead. I do this on and off for two laps, excitement being replaced with frustration every time he loses his “lead;” as if I’d actually give him one. As we’re coming down the home stretch, I lay into the engine and blow him away. Then it displays my car in the winner’s circle, my driver hoisting the trophy over his head. My satisfaction of the moment is only enhanced by the groans of my competition.

“What’s the matter, Jake? Don’t like losing to a girl?”

“No, it just doesn’t seem fair! You don’t even have fingers!”

“Ooh, beat you with just my hooves and I’m a girl. I’m sure your buddies will be real impressed with that.”

“How about we switch to a co-op?”

“Why? You tired of losing so you want to team up with your Aunt Dash and win for once?”

“No! I…just thought it would be nice to play on the same team. You know, makes it more fun.”

Before I can call him on his bull excuse, the clock on the wall chimes. It’s two in the afternoon on this wonderful Friday. The sun is out, the birds are singing, and everything seems happy. And here we are playing video games. Now, neither of us cares about it being a good day outside: he wants to finally beat me and I want to keep humiliating him. But he has an important appointment.

“Alrighty, nephew o’ mine. Go spend some time with your grandpa.”

I don’t have to tell him twice. He immediately jumps off the couch and runs to Dad’s bedroom. What a good grandson. And Lucy is even better. Yesterday, she had me help her make some cards for Dad. The sad thing was she didn’t put “Get well” on any of them. They were “Goodbye” cards, as she called them. That felt wonderful; seeing a little kid seemingly unfazed that her grandpa was going to die. But I can’t really complain, at least David and Annie explained why it was “Goodbye” in the first place. I set up the next race, trying to keep the thought out of my mind. But that’s not going to happen.

As I speed around the track, I realize it’s the second Friday since I came here. Dad has passed that two week mark. But I know better than to think that’s a good sign, he’s gotten worse since I got here. He coughs all the time now, and it’s hard to talk with him as he keeps nodding off. I don’t think he’s been able to keep his eyes open for more than ten minutes at a time. I just know the end is close now, it has to be. David’s thinking of asking his boss for more time if Dad still hasn’t passed by Sunday evening. If that happens, he can’t die until David’s back from work. He has to be there, we all have to be there.

“Aunt Dash!? Aunt Dash, come quick! Something’s wrong with Grandpa!”

My car loses control, my mind stops working. No, not now, please not yet! I drop the controller as I run to Dad’s bedroom, preparing myself for the worst. When I burst through the door, he’s coughing up a storm and Jake is by his side holding a box of tissues. I run over to Dad and try to talk to him, but he can’t catch a breath. Thankfully, he finally stops, taking several gasps of air. I breathe a sigh of relief. I put a hoof on Jake’s shoulder, calming him down.

“Phew! Alright, everything’s okay, Jake. Grandpa is…” there’s red in his tissues. Is he actually coughing up blood?! I have him open wide and I shine a light on the back of his throat. It’s sore and bleeding. Too much coughing, his throat has had enough. And I can see the bulge of the tumor right by his tonsils. Crap.

“Hey Jake, could you find your mom for me? Grandpa has a little problem. Nothing huge, just want a professional opinion.”

He’s just stuck there, squatting next to the bed with the box of tissues.

“Jake? You in there buddy?”

I don’t think I have ever seen that much fear in someone’s eyes. He knows something is wrong, and he knows it’s not a “little problem.” His grandpa is going to die soon. He knows it, I know it, and I know Dad knows it. But now is not the time for that; Jake doesn’t need to be worrying about this like I am.

“Hey, it’s okay. Can you hear me?” He just gives a weak nod, “Good boy. Okay, call your mom and have her come in here. Can you do that for me, Jake?”

Another weak nod as he gets up from the floor. He sets the tissues down and slowly backs away from the bed towards the door. He doesn’t break eye contact, even when he hits the hallway wall. I hear his feet running down the hall as he starts calling for Annie. That should send everyone running. My attention returns to Dad as he starts coughing again. Not as bad as last time, but I know it still hurts. I hand him a fresh wad of tissues as I put the bloody ones in a baggy, just like Annie told me to do in a situation like this.

“Thanks.” He lies back on his pillow and stares up at the ceiling. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him more tired than right now.

“Dashie?” he says, still watching the ceiling.

“Yeah, Pops?”

“It’s time, honey. I’m heading out soon.”

“I know.” I take his hand in my hooves. “I know. Everyone else should be here shortly.”

“Could you do me a favor?”

“Whatever you want, Dad.”

“Could you call David? I know he was going into town. Could you tell him to pick up some party supplies? And pizza, have him bring home some pizza.”

“Can I ask what you’re planning?”

“When he gets back ask Pinkie to decorate the place. Tell her to go all out.”

“Dad,” He finally looks me in the eye. “What are we doing?”

He gives a sigh, “I wanted to have a going away party.”

I quickly hug him, trying to keep him from seeing my tears. Dang it. Dang it! I can’t do this now! I have to keep everyone together. I can wait ‘til later to lose it. I bite my lip and regain my composure.

“I’ll let him know right away.”

Annie comes running into the room with Jake. I show her the bloody tissues and have her look at Dad’s throat. She has a grim look on her face.

“Can you keep him stable?”

“I’ll do what I can, Dashie, but,” she brings her voice to whisper so Jake doesn’t hear, “I don’t think we have much time left.”

I whisper back “How much do you think we got?”

“Best case? We say goodbye around eight. But he could go sooner than that. It’s all going to be up to him.”

As we talk, I notice Jake standing in the doorway. He’s getting more and more anxious. Before I have a chance to say something, Dad calls him over.

“Jake?”

He comes rushing to the bedside.

“I want you to go down the basement, turn left at the washer and you’ll see a shelf. There’s a box there I need you to get for me. It should say “Home Movies” on the side. You’ll find a camera and some memory cards. Could you bring that box to me?”

Jake rapidly nods in response and then runs off to get the box. As soon as Jake clears the hallway, Dad turns to me and Annie.

“Best to keep him occupied. Can you keep me breathing ‘til this evening, dear?”

Annie still has a grim look on her face. “Like I said, I’ll do what I can, Dad. Just don’t get any ideas in the mean time.”

“Who, me? I’ve always been well-behaved when it comes to these things. I’ll just push sky-diving to Tuesday.” Annie rolls her eyes and cracks a weak smile as she checks his IV. At this point, I can’t really do anything more, so I get up and walk out of the room.

I walk into the kitchen and pick up the phone. Once I get David on the line, I inform him of the situation and of Dad’s wishes. He’s silent on the other end of the phone. It takes him a couple minutes to respond.

“Did he want anything in particular?”

“He just said party supplies. I’ll check and see if Pinkie brought anything, but go ahead and buy some streamers and balloons. And don’t forget the pizza. Remember to get plenty of veggie.”

“Think he’d want a cake as well?”

“I don’t know if he could eat it with his throat as is. Get him ice cream instead.”

“Okay…how you holding up?”

“Fine, as fine as I can be about this. How are you?”

“Just digesting it, that’s all. I’ll be back in a couple hours, have to run my other errands.”

“Okay. Talk to you later, David. Bye.”

I hang up the phone and just stand there for a second, collecting my thoughts. When I turn around, my friends are standing there. Twilight speaks up.

“We heard the commotion from outside, so we decided to see what was going on.”

I answer with a sigh, “It’s time girls. My Dad is dying as we speak.”

They all share a gasp. They start to come forward to hug me, but I stop them.

“Not the time, ladies, we have a party to set up.”

“A party!? Ooh, what kind of party?!” out of nowhere Pinkie pulls out a cannon, “Just tell me where to shoot and I’ll let ‘er rip!”

“It’s a going away party, Pinkie.”

That takes her down a peg. Her hair actually deflates a little.

“He wants to go out with a bang, you can handle that right?”

With a salute and a serious look of determination on her face, she wheels the cannon down the hallway. A few seconds later I can hear Annie scream as the cannon goes off. Next thing we know, Pinkie is running out the front door with Annie close behind her. And although it’s weak, I can hear Dad laughing. I push my way past my friends and go outside. It’s not so sunny anymore. It’s gotten gray, nothing heavy enough to rain, but enough to match the mood. I launch myself off the porch and into the air. I go as high as I can and try to clear my head.

It doesn’t work. Nothing is going to work at this point. I can’t even chuckle as Pinkie and Annie go in an endless circ le around Dad’s old pick-up. I fly into the woods and head for the Tree. As soon as I’m secure, I stop trying to keep it out and let the whole situation come at me. As I expected, I don’t handle it very well. At least I’m somewhere where nobody and nopony can see me. I wouldn’t want to set them off; not yet.

Sixteen days…I got to spend sixteen more days with my Dad. And now he’s leaving me.

Nobody is smiling when the party starts. Not even Pinkie, and she’s supposed to be the entertainment. We’re all just sitting around Dad’s room, five humans, six ponies and an alicorn. Why I didn’t take the Guest Room back when we first moved in, I’ll never know; it’s got to be the biggest room in the house. We actually have space to walk around, not that we want to. We’re all just glued to our spots. David and I are on either side of Dad, Annie and the kids are right next to David, my friends are seated against the wall, and Celestia is in front of the door.

It’s one of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen. Nobody talks as we eat our dinner. David and his family share a Meat Lovers with Dad, while the rest of us share several slices of veggie. As we all sit there and chew, Dad yells, “I can’t take it anymore!”

We all stop and listen to him rant.

“I’m not dead yet, am I?! For crying out loud, would it kill you guys to smile? You can save the long faces for when I’m not around to see them. You don’t have to be excited, but you could at least find some way to pass the time instead of just sitting there all mute and melancholy. Jake!”

He bolts up from his folding chair.

“You get that box like I asked?”

He takes it out of the corner of the room and brings it to the bed.

“Good. Now, someone go and get my old laptop, it’s in my office.”

David rushes out of the room and swiftly returns with laptop in hand.

“Good. Now could someone with a horn hold it up where we can all see?”

Twilight obliges and levitates the laptop in the corner of the room. David hooks up the camera and plugs in a memory card.

“Now that’s better. Let’s all stop thinking about what’s happening now. I’d prefer to think about when I still had hair.”

Everybody shares a weak chuckle as David hits the play button. Soon, we’re all watching me as a filly. That was such a long time ago. I see myself dancing around the room singing along to Spongebob. I watch numerous birthdays and Christmas mornings, girly squeals leaving my mouth when I open my presents. Soon I’m moving boxes into the new house as Dad films our first day in our new home. Next we hear me behind the camera, stifling giggles as I sneak into Dad’s room where we see him sleeping. I slam a pie tin of whipped cream in his face and yell “APRIL FOOL’S DAY!” and the camera shakes as I run out of the room with Dad yelling behind me. The very last moment is my twentieth birthday, and we all see me run up to the camera with “Thank you!” and “I can’t believe you got these!” before the screen goes blue with my fur. As David sets up for the next card, we give out desert. Dad has to have one of the biggest bowls of ice cream I’ve seen. But he shares it with Jake and Lucy; all three of them make short work of it.

Then David puts in the next memory card, and I’m surprised. Boy did he look dorky as a kid! I watch field trips, a few birthdays and all these camping trips with this other family. That must be the Snowflake guy I’ve heard about; he must have been fun to be with. I watch David wave goodbye with an embarrassed look on his face as he heads into his first day of High School. It’s not long at all before he’s getting his diploma. We don’t see him again until his wedding day, and it looks spectacular. Then it skips to Jake being born, and Dad hands the camera off to David to hold his grandson. Then for a half-hour we see Jake as a baby, his mom taking every opportunity to make him squirm in his chair with her cooing and taunting as we all watch him smear cake all over his face. Then it’s Lucy’s turn, and we all watch a four-year old Jake cradling his new sister in his arms. It doesn’t take long for Lucy to smear cake all over her face as well. We skip forward quite a few years until we see Dad in a hospital bed, telling David to get his good side. Look at that gray hair.

At this point, David takes out the last memory card and the show is over. We’ve burnt up three hours watching our home videos. It’s raining now; drops are softly hitting the window pane. And now Dad can’t hide his wheezing behind the audio anymore. That must have been why he had the show going. Dang it! I should have been paying attention! He’s in bad shape, if he isn’t wheezing for air, he’s coughing up a storm. Annie attends to him as best she can as we all turn our eyes towards him.

“I think…I’m running…out of time.” He motions for Jake and Lucy to come over, they kneel by the bedside as Dad runs his hand over their heads.

“You two have…been such wonder…wonderful grandkids. Jake…you go and get that...Eagle Scout like you’ve…been telling me about. Don’t….settle for any…thing less. And Lucy…sweet Lucy…don’t you ever…ever change sweetheart. Keep practicing your piano now….I just know you’re…you’re going to be a professional…someday. I love you both…so much.”

They both lean over and hug him tightly, tears falling freely down their cheeks. As they get up, Annie takes them both and wraps her arms around them; their cries are muffled in her shoulders.

“Annie?”

“Yes, Dad?” tears are rolling down her face as well.

“You have no…no idea how happy…I am that you…made up with my thick…headed son over here. It has been…an absolute joy…having you as a…another daughter. I don’t think…anyone in this family…could live without you here. So take…take care of yourself, take care of…David, and most import…importantly, take care of your kids.”

Her voice is cracking as she says “I will, Dad.”

“I love you, dear. Thank you.”

I look behind me and see all my friends with tears in their eyes. Rarity is blowing into a handkerchief; Fluttershy has Pinkie’s head stuffed into her shoulder, muffling her otherwise loud cries; Applejack has her hat off and she keeps as straight face as she can; Twilight is the same, but she’s sniffling a whole lot more. Then I turn towards Celestia, small streams roll down her cheeks as she keeps a relatively straight face. As for me, I’m trying to keep it together as long as possible. David is trying to keep his face as dry as he can as Dad turns towards him.

“Did you ever…ever think you’d be saying goodbye…to another parent? When you were…still a kid?”

“Nope. Never thought I’d get the chance to.”

“I hope…I hope that I’ve been…a good father to you…buddy.”

Tears roll down David’s cheek as he smiles. “You have. Better than anything I could have wished for.”

“You…don’t have any idea…how glad I am to…hear you…tell me that. You changed my life…without you…I don’t know what…I would have done with…myself. You made me a…father again, David. You helped…helped me to move on. Thank you…son.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you, Old Man.”

“Don’t ever…ever…ever, forget this…David. I love you…very much.”

He turns in my direction, but his eyes go past me and to my right.

“Sparkle?”

She steps forward, wiping her eyes with her hoof. “Yes, sir?”

“I don’t know how…you did it, but thank you…for sending my daughter…to me.”

“You’re welcome. And thank you for taking care of her.” She shakily replies.

“It was…a pleasure.”

And now he turns to me, a big smile on his face. I start losing control. He motions me closer and puts his hand to my cheek; I hold it with my hoof.

“Seems like…only yesterday you were…laying next…to me on the couch. How time flies…especially for you.”

“Yeah.” I’m trying my best to smile. Have to keep smiling for him.

“Do you…think I’m mad at you…for not be…ing there?”

I don’t see why he wouldn’t be. I come back only to see him off? He gives a small chuckle as I nod my head. I keep my head down and my eyes closed, trying to keep it all from leaking out.

“Hey…look at me, Dashie”

I open my eyelids and waterfalls come out. Then I see his eyes; those wonderful, merciful, compassionate and loving eyes and it takes everything not to completely fall apart.

“I thought I would never…see you again. When…when you came through…my bedroom door I…I knew I could die content. Don’t you ever, ever, think that…I was mad at you. David…may have changed…my life, but honey…you saved it.”

“Are-are you sure?”

“It was not…looking good before…I found you in…that old cardboard box. It was only…a matter of time…before something bad…happened. And then…you took me on…a fifteen-year journey. And now…I get to die…a happy man…with a love-loving family…all because of you.”

He pulls me towards his face as I start to sob. He does the same with David. I hear him whisper to his left, “See you…around, buddy.”

“I’ll miss you, Old man.”

I can hear him sobbing on the other side of Dad’s head. Then he turns his head and whispers in my ear,

“Goodnight my…little Dashie. I…love you.”

I manage to get control over myself long enough to say,

“Goodnight Daddy, I-I love you too.”

With this he takes a long, drawn out breath, and with the exhale I feel his grip loosening. I grab his hand and put it to my face. It’s starting to go cold. He’s dead…my daddy is dead. And I was here to say goodbye to him.

A week later, the funeral was held. It was made as private as possible to accommodate my presence. The only people outside of our family and my friends were Ryan, a good friend of David’s, and his mother, Lizzie. They were surprised to see me and my friends, but they didn’t freak out after David explained why we were here. More tears were shed as David gave a wonderful eulogy, reviewing everything Dad had done to make a difference with those around him. As David and his family drove away with the funeral procession, Twilight teleported us to the graveyard. Thankfully, no one else had decided to pay their respects that day. We were waiting as the procession made its way to the burial site. I’m sure David paid a lot of money to keep the pall bearers quiet.

Once Dad was in the ground and a few more words were said, I said goodbye to my brother, my sister-in-law, and my wonderful nephew and niece. As Lucy and Jake said goodbye to the rest of my friends, David handed me a package.

“He left this for you. He gave me one as well. I don’t know what it is, but it’s yours. He said it was ‘to remember him by.’”

“Thank you David.” I placed it in my saddlebag. “You take care now.”

He bent down and hugged me. “You too, sis.”

With one last smile we parted ways, a brilliant purple light enveloping me and my friends. With a loud bang and a mild shock, we were back in the Canterlot Castle throne room. Magus and Dr. Blot were waiting for us.

“Well that was quicker than I expected! You weren’t even gone forty-five minutes! Did you get to spend some time with your dad?”

“Yeah, Blot, I did…I got to say goodbye, too.”

The smile on his face instantly vanished. “My condolences, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be. So I guess now you want to put me back together?”

“At some point, but we don’t need to-“

“Doctor,” I walked up to him and got up in his face, “Just do it.”

He put his ears back and gave me a serious look. “If that’s what you wish. Are you ready, Miss Sparkle?”

“Yes,” She walked up in front of me, “Are you sure, Dashie?”

“It hurts Twilight; hurts more than you could imagine. I just…I just want it to stop.”

With a solemn nod her horn began to glow, I leaned forward as she touched her horn to my head.
Suddenly I was back in my house, and I found a second me sitting on the couch with this sad look on her face.

“Uh…hello.”

“Hey, Dashie.”

“Are you…me?”

“The original part of you, yeah.”

“Where exactly are we?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

With this she cracked a smile. “Figures.”

“So…what do we do?” She had a sympathetic expression on her face.

“Are you sure you’re ready? You’re not just rushing things?”

“If it’s all the same to you, I just don’t care anymore.”

“That’s what I was afraid of. Still,” She got up from the couch, “You’ve taken care of your business, it should work now.”

“What do we do?”

“Just think something along the lines of being a whole pony again. That should work.”

At her suggestion, I did. I imagined finding a large puzzle piece and clicking it back into place. And that’s when I remembered: all of it. Going to flight camp and earning my cutie mark, going to the park and doing a sonic Rainboom; leading the weather team over Ponyville, mowing the lawn as fast as I possibly could; saying goodbye to my parents as I left for the job in Ponyville, saying goodbye to Dad before I left Earth; it was all there. I was all me! And boy did it hurt! I could hear everypony exclaiming as I grabbed my head. After a few minutes the pain dissipated, I was lying on the ground.

Everypony formed a circle around me; Twilight was the first to speak up.

“You there, Rainbow?”

“Yeah, I’m here. We’re both here. Feels like I’m going to hurl.”

They pulled me up and helped me rest on my haunches.

“So you remember absolutely everything?”

“Yes, doc, I have both sets. It’s really weird.”

He smiled “I’m sure it is. I’m going to keep in touch with you for a few days to make sure everything is running smoothly. Okay?”

I nodded and stood up. It wasn’t long before we were on the train back to Ponyville. I was thankful for the chance to lie down, my head was still achy. When we got back, my friends spent the night at my place, just in case something else went wrong. That night I had the weirdest dreams; one dream was Rainbow’s, but the other was Dashie’s. I actually woke up screaming because of it. Over the next few weeks, as I started getting back into my regular routine (without that stupid alarm clock I might add) Dr. Blot used a strain of split-personality therapy. And it worked, for the most part. Upon his suggestion, I went and visited my parents up in Cloudsdale one afternoon, and it that had to have been when I felt the worst. I was loving them and enjoying their company like I always do, but at the same time I couldn’t help but feel they were strangers. Especially my dad; I felt the weirdest around him. Like he was a lie even though I knew he wasn’t.

It seemed to be taking forever to get myself in proper order. So on my day off, I decided to just lay around my house. I read a few books, had some snacks, took a nap, and struggled with my mind. It was so weird thinking “I need to talk to Cloud Kicker about our schedule this week,” one second and then thinking “I wonder how David’s and his family is doing?” at the next. It didn’t feel like I was one pony, it felt like I was three. I was Rainbow with Dashie’s thoughts, or Dashie living Rainbow’s life. It was really getting me down. Actually, I had been mildly depressed ever since we got back from Earth. I didn’t even open Dad’s package.

With that train of thought, I went over to my desk. The package was laying right smack in the middle. I picked it up and brought it back over to my bed before ripping off the wrapping paper. I was shocked to find an album. I opened it and on the very first page I saw my letter, it was still in good condition. I flipped through the album, smiling at all of our pictures. I took the ones I had from my box and added them, making sure to put things in chronological order. Although I had the smile on my face, I still felt depressed. This wasn’t making anything better. What’s the use? I’m never going to shake this feeling!

I decided that breaking into a tub of ice cream sounded really good about now, so I put the album down and started for the stairs. But I guess I wasn’t careful, because I heard a thud before I was even four feet away from my bed. I grumbled as I turned around to pick up the album, and then I saw it: an envelope peeking out of the very back of the album, the same tone of cyan as my fur. I picked it up and looked at the front.

“To Dashie”

I tore it open and sat on the side of my bed. My eyes watered as I read the letter inside.

Dear Dashie,

I’m sure right now things must be difficult for you. From what Twilight has told me, it has to be pretty annoying to have two different lives bouncing around in your head. So I hope this letter finds you in a relatively acceptable state of mind. Hopefully things aren’t getting too weird for you. It seems unfair that I had almost thirty years to cope while you didn’t even have three days. But I digress.

Although you have two parts, you’re still completely and entirely my daughter. So considering the fact that as I write this letter, another day passes and I draw closer to my end, I wanted to tell you all I could, without a fit of coughing ruining the words I am about to say.

You have absolutely no idea how happy I was to find your letter. That was one of the few things that kept me sane after you left. And it’s served as a source of motivation over the years as I raised David. You were just as responsible for how well he turned out as my parents were for showing me how to be a good parent. You were my first kid after all. And it was absolutely magnificent.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve thought more and more about just how lucky I’ve been to have had such wonderful things happen in my life. And in that vein, I’ve often wondered just what would have happened if I never found you. I highly doubt I would have come to terms with my life, I could have possibly just decided to end it. You see, I loved my parents very deeply, and they meant the world to me. So I just couldn’t get myself going again once they were gone. But then I found you.

For fifteen years we ate together, we played together, we laughed together, we cried together, and most important of all we loved each other. You gave me the chance to be loved, honey. And your Pops definitely needed love just as much as you did when you were growing up. I won’t lie; it hurt when you had to go. It took a while before I managed to move on and get to living again. And your voice was cheering me on the whole time. I got to have a son, Dashie; a son. And you have no idea how much I loved raising David; almost just as much as I loved raising you.

And now I’m a proud grandfather and you’re an aunt. I’m sure we’re pushing the definition a little, but that’s what I consider to be true. I’ve done so many things and have made so many wonderful memories; both with you and without you. And it’s the “without” part that worries me. I’ve seen your eyes and I have seen all that guilt and sadness in them. I know you feel terrible about not only leaving, but also (through no fault of your own) practically sleeping my life away. Dashie, I didn’t think I would ever see you again. You don’t know how happy you made me just by coming back, period.

Don’t you ever think you didn’t do enough. You made all the difference just by existing. I know you love me and I most definitely love you. I just want to make sure you understand that.

The biggest thing on my mind right now is what will happen once I’m gone. I know you and David both have your respective circles of comfort, but you never know. And if I’m right and if things go according to plan, you’re not going to be the same once you get through. So now I have no idea whether you adjusted to having both lives in your head or not. In either case though, I want to make one thing clear.

You’ll get through it. It may take days, it may take months, it may take years, but you’ll get out of whatever funk you may find yourself to be in. Don’t obsess over what could have been, and don’t worry if you can’t get “now” to work. All that matters is that you’re there and you’re living. Anything else can come afterwards. I want you to keep going, Dashie; I want you to live your life again. Sure, I don’t want you to forget about me completely, but I don’t want you to worry about me, about David, or anything else. We’re all fine and so are you.

Keep talking with your friends, keep doing a great job with everything, and just keep on being the wonderful mare I know you are. You’re going to do great things honey, and that’s not from watching all eight seasons of the show. Realize that there is more to life than anything you can imagine right now. And with that in mind, don’t be afraid to press onward into your future. You’re going to have a great life Dashie, and I’m so very thankful I got to be a part of it.

And as you go forth in your life, don’t ever, ever forget this. I will always love you, and you will always be my little Dashie.

Your biggest fan in the world,

Your loving Pops always,

Your Daddy forever.

I wiped a tear from my eye as I reached the end. I wasn’t sad, I was happier than I had ever felt! I still felt weird, but now I didn’t feel so hopeless anymore. It would pass, just like anything else would. And whatever I felt today, it wasn’t a sign of what I would feel tomorrow. I still feel sad that Dad’s gone and I’m sure I’m going to be that way for a while, but I don’t feel like it’s holding me back now. Even in death he always knows just what to say. I brought the album over to my desk, folded the letter back up and put it back in the envelope, and then I carefully taped it to the inside of the cover. I kissed the album as I put it on my shelf.

I went down to my front door and threw it open. Underneath I saw my friends waiting for me. I gave them a big smile and flew down to greet them. It had to have been the best I had felt since I got back. As we talked and laughed on our way to Sugarcube Corner, I couldn’t seem to stop smiling. This was what my life was now; and as sure as I had a human Dad, I was going to live it.

For myself,

And for my Daddy.

The End.

This has been…

Good Night Daddy:
A My Little Dashie Sequel

Acknoledgements & Author Notes

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

All who are listed here were my braintrust for this project.

They did much to help me in writing my fool’s errand.

My pre-readers:

Darkcloud64

Biglulu

The Questioner

My editors:

Biglulu

The Questioner

OTHER ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The author of the original piece and the catalyst for this project and my humungous development as a writer:

ROBCakeran53

The Site generous enough to host every aspiring novice who wishes to write MLP fanfiction:

FIMFiction.net

Those Brave souls who donate their time and sanity to improving the works and authors of this site:

School for New Writers

Storytellers Underground

(Why? I’m sure they don’t get nearly as many “thank-yous” as they deserve)

The most important person in any project like this:

You, the dear reader

And the most important person regarding anything:

God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit

Answers to Possible Questions and/or Comments/b]

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO READ THE FOLLOWING. YOU HAVE SEEN THE ACKNOLEDGEMENTS, THAT IS ALL YOU NEEDED TO SEE. BUT IF YOU DO HAVE A QUESTION READ ON TO SEE IF IT IS ANSWERED.

The following are my responses to the comments and questions I have anticipated to arise after finishing GND. As you might be able to tell after checking my profile page, I am not planning on staying here to give them in person. So if you find an entry that’s similar to your question or comment, there you go. If you have one that’s not on here, feel free to ask it anyway. Somebody else might be able to explain, possibly, I don’t know, moving on. As you can tell, I am assuming that most questions will be about why I used what I used and why I wrote what I wrote. I don’t know, that seemed like the only thing someone would ask me about in regards to this.

Dad & David

You really seem to like dialogue, don’t you?

That I do. Inner monologue can be so tedious and it just doesn’t seem to build connections like a conversation can. True, perhaps I did make Dad and David more chatty than your average 40+ year old Man and 12 year old boy, but it’s better to have them talking than Dad narrating what the conversation was about. That only happened once (technically twice) in the original. And dialogue is what really makes the connections in a scene.

Dad has a name, you know. It’s “Brian.”

I have looked through the original over and over again and have not found a single mention of that name. Thus it is not what I consider canon and thereby I did not allow myself to use it. (Perhaps the populace accepted it, I did not. I wanted to follow the logistics of the original as closely as possible. That meant keeping Dad as nameless as possible, keeping the time scheme ratio of 1 Earth year = 1 Equestrian day, and having Dashie be the one to come back, not the other way around.)

Why did you bring David into this?

If I’m going about this realistically, Dad would obviously find something new in which to direct his energy. So naturally, I thought of volunteer work. However, it wouldn’t be interesting if all I had was Dad working in a soup kitchen all day. And I didn’t really think a romance would pan out. So I figured why not try going the “Big Brother” program route? It would certainly take advantage of Dad’s “supposed” parenting skills and maybe caring for other children would help him develop more as a character.

So then I invented David to serve as a replacement for Dashie in Dad’s life. However, before I knew it, I soon had Dad adopting David, and realized making him a mere replacement was not going to work out. So in Draft 3 I worked very hard to make sure they developed a good relationship throughout the story, ending with David’s adoption and the Porch scene.

Then tell me why you brought in Snowflake.

Three reasons:

To provide the catalyst for Dad to meet David.
To serve as validation of Dad’s choice to adopt. (Seriously; a single guy adopting a kid? Someone needs to be checking into that.)
To serve as a companion outside of David and Dashie. In the original, we hear mention of old friends and that’s that for Dad’s social interaction. It just makes Dad too much of a recluse. So by introducing Snowflake, Dad becomes a semi-normal adult. Now, Lizzie came along because what single guy runs an orphanage? (That’s rather sketchy…) And having her there actually developed Snowflake as a character in his own right.

(Fun Fact: I based Snowflake’s appearance, demeanor, and his name off of a background pony. I’m sure you can make a good guess as to who it is…just check the wiki.)

Rainbow/Dashie

What was up with the conflicting memories/personas bit?

During the preliminary writing process, I was formulating the catalyst for their reunion. As I researched other MLD sequels more and more, I saw too many times that they reunited for the sole reason that they just couldn’t move on. That kills any character growth they had in the original (and that growth is sparse at best).

So I wanted to create a situation where they had to get back together. A magical mcguffin from Earth (as is the usual catalyst) wouldn’t work because that would require Dad to use the “miss you” motive. (Plus, so many have been used already, it’s near impossible to come up with something original and relatively plausible.) Thus the only plausible alternative was Dashie to come back from Equestria.

But I did not want her to have a “miss you” motive. That makes her weak-willed and it creates more conflict than necessary. (If she wasn’t strong enough to stay in Equestria, how in the world would she be strong enough to leave a second time? You know, being realistic about the whole thing.) So I tried to come up with a scientific catalyst.

Enter the psychological trauma. Now, you will find that in many MLD sequels, Rainbow Dash is still Dashie, regardless of all her other memories and experiences. (In the episode “Games Ponies Play” we see a male Pegasus in RD’s flashback who, by looking at the multi-chromed mane, we can only deduce is her real dad. So we can also assume she had a mom as well, no? Now do you think that her time with them wouldn’t impact her character at all? Especially after her return?) That’s sloppy writing, as is writing her straight up RD for an MLD sequel. So I answered the question “Just what went on in her noggin when the spell took effect?” and then promptly took it out of the equation until the end.

This provided several boons.

A plausible explanation as to why they had to bring her back. (National Security is very important, no?)
It allowed me the opportunity to have Rainbow Dash interact with Dashie. (Which I thought was important since they really are two separate entities. However, I went more for “We’re sorta the same” rather than “We’re nothing alike” because then Dashie would be quite inferior to Rainbow, and who wants to like Dashie then? Plus, I did try the latter and…let’s just say whenever I tried the conflict route at any point in the story, everyone looked like irredeemable jerks…especially allowing the situation to degenerate into a Dash vs. Dash brawl…oy.)
Saved me from having to write “Rainbow Dashie” the whole time, which is how she should be written. (Best example I found of this? The MLD sequel “A Moment.” Still Rainbow, still Dashie, everything plausible and reasonable.)

Dashie seems to be a little too emotional, don’t you think?

If you’re talking about when she’s having her moment during the Dreamscape sequence, that’s two weeks of suppressed fear and sadness finally breaking out into the open. I just could not see her having a different reaction.

As for after she wakes up, I offer the following in rebuttal:

First day Conscious-Say goodbye-possibly forever- to the man who loved and raised you for fifteen years. On same day, have trouble with sorting out your memories and who you were. End up being encased inside a magic bubble.

Second Day Conscious-(4 weeks after you lost control)-Discover you had slept through all your father’s years. And you practically only left him yesterday. Then they come out of nowhere and say “Hey! You got problems in your upstairs and we need them fixed! We’re taking you back!” despite the fact your father is quite possibly dead or close to death (you never know who will age well and who won’t). Do you really want to see him like that? Just when he was so young and healthy the day before?

Third Day Conscious--Reunite with Father and see him all old and sickly. Then, you stick around to not only watch him die a rather painful death, but to also be at his funeral.

I ask you, how could she not have been under severe mental stress with all this coming at her in such a short period of time? Dad had near thirty years to cope; Dashie had three days. See what I’m saying?

What are Magus and Ink Blot doing there?

To make the story better. Allow me to explain.

Draft 2-Twilight trying to figure it out by herself, going to Celestia after Rainbow crashes. (Whatta plot hole!)

Draft 3-Twilight informing Celestia that something is wrong with one of the ~~components of the Magic Rainbow Gun~~ Elements of Harmony, on the day the incident happened. Celestia gets the best people to start working on it before Rainbow crashes.

Which seems more believable?

My point is, Rainbow Dash is a big deal to Equestria, and if the bearer of loyalty were to encounter some difficulties, Celestia would have to get involved at some point. And since Twilight isn’t an idiot, she would have sought assistance post-haste. And since at some point the best minds in Equestria have to show their faces, (otherwise there was no point in even mentioning them,) I brought in Magus and Ink Blot.

If your experts have names, then they are actually important to your plot, yes? (Nameless scientists are rather dumb, yes?) So by having Magus there to conclude that magic should have worked, and Ink Blot there to shove my psychological exposition down your throat, the egghead involvement became an actual scene. (Instead of being an absolutely useless addition to the story.)

In addition, once Dashie got back, she would need to seek out professional help, no? Boom; Ink Blot is useful for something else. (And if you ever have a pony employed in the field of psychology in your fic, just use “Ink Blot.” You’ll be hard pressed to find any name remotely acceptable otherwise. “Who names their kid ‘Rorschach?’” and don’t even think about using ‘Freud.’ It doesn’t end well.)

Would ya care to explain to all o’ us whah Applejack sez “I” instead of “Ah?” like she’s s’posed to?

Same reason why the above question looks ridiculous: we all know she has a southern accent; the “Ah” is redundant. Yes, I realize that almost everybody else uses the “Ah” if nothing else when writing any member of the Apple family, but you weren’t there for Draft 2. I took the accent too, too far. When it was brought to my attention that I had gone overboard, I realized it also (technically) applied to the common “Ah” in her speech. For that reason, to be sure I wouldn’t repeat my past mistake, I omitted the “Ah” in place of your standard “I.” And I did write southern, I just…wrote it sort of normal instead of definitely accented. So did I need to omit it? Not necessarily, but did I need to keep it in?

…

I’ll get back to you on that. Pends on whether people actually care about it or not and whether it costs me dearly. (I was told by my second editor that it would. In fact, that’s the only reason why this question is here. So tell me Questioner, did it cost me? Hardy-har-har.)

Pertaining to Plot (That didn’t particularly pertain to Dad or Dashie)

In chapter 3, you say that Dad’s pajamas were a “Father’s Day” gift? How could that be possible if Dashie had to stay hidden, hmm? Answer me that!

Obviously she bought it online; Ebay maybe. I’m sure Dad created her own account once she started earning money. Eh, that’s my thought anyway…how does that matter? I ask you, what point is there in bringing that up? If you wanted to bring up plot holes, you should have brought them up regarding the original. This is the universe I was given, I stuck to it as best I could. So just be chill, mon. Nawting but good vibes up in ‘ere.

Why did you let Dad die?

AKA: OMG! Y U KILL DADDY?! (I have heard that response so many times in my head during production.)

At the very beginning as I was formulating an outline, I asked myself how I should go about reuniting them. As I said before, I ruled out Dad using a magic mcguffin to get there, and I opted for Dashie to come back. But then that “miss you” motive came into play. If she came back, how could she possibly get herself to leave a second time? And then what? It would be worse leaving an older dad close to death than a younger dad with his life ahead of him. So I decided Dad had to die. (Doesn’t that sound terrible?)

Now if you think it’s bad I have Dad dying, be glad I didn’t go with my first thought. Originally, I was seriously thinking of having her come home to find his tombstone. But not only would that make me look like a troll, but that would hardly provide her the proper closure she required. (“I actually slept his life away…*angst*”) So I had Dashie return just in time to say goodbye, granting her that last chance and at the same time eliminating her reason to stay anchored to Earth. (And thereby effectively ending MLD: no Dad to come looking for her, no good reason to return, it’s done.)

You do realize you basically copied the ending from the original, don’t you? Isn’t that cheating?

I can understand why you would think that. I prefer to think of it more as a nod to the original (even so far as to use the term “mirror” or “parallel”) and show how it has all come full circle. It started with Dad getting his life back together; it ended with Dashie getting her life back together. It’s not because I couldn’t come up with something more original, it’s just what felt right to do. It just seemed to be the best way to end it. (But yes, I did recycle…fine “took,” ROB’s word scheme from the very last bit…but the letter in the album made too much sense for it not to be used, regardless of whether ROB used it first or not.)

…

Oh…you mean they both ended with a good bye. Meh, I liked it, see the above question for my motive. It wasn’t plagiarism, it was plot development. (That doesn’t really sound so good now that I say it. Huh.)

Why did you put the title at the end of the story?

Quite simple really.

Title: Good Night Daddy

Summary of Description: A story of letting go (Hmm…something’s fishy here)

Title + Description = (O_o) Dad is going to die!

Now while that realization at the beginning may actually entice you to read, I think this way was a much better way to go. Thus, to prevent spoilers, I refrained from having the full title displayed until the very end. Besides, I needed to give you some reason to start reading in the first place. (“I love a good mystery! What-ho!...Oh, that’s what the title is.”)

Pertaining to Me

Just wondering, any of this written from personal experience?

No, but you could say it is based on personal experiences in general. I was just writing from perceived perspectives I believed would enhance the story and the characters. Coincidentally, everyone in the world is going to be the child, the parent, or the grandparent at some point in their life and I managed to hit upon all three perspectives. Huh, fancy that.

So you know absolutely nothing regarding adoption procedures, “foster homes,” cancer, or psychology. That’s what you’re saying right?

In order: nope, yes I knew that’s what orphanages are called now, vaguely, going to school for it.

Regarding the adoption, I checked and the statistics I found said that six months is the average window of time for placement. I’m not entirely sure if you have visits with your adoptive couple before living with them, but that seemed to make sense to me. (Google was not forth coming on adoption procedures.)

I had a great-uncle who died of cancer, and I saw the toll it took on my great aunt, my grandparents, and my father (you know, his side of the family). Likewise, there have been several other members of my family and close friends who have had close calls with cancer. I have been fortunate enough to not have to go through the ordeal of having a loved one close to death. However, from the writing point of view, it is hard to write credibly for things you have not experienced for yourself. As for what kind of cancer Dad has, I believe I opted for somewhere around the larynx area. Whether or not violent (and eventually fatal) coughing can be a result of throat cancer is not something I can verify. (And we’ve already found a cure for tuberculosis-a much more plausible culprit-so that’s out.)

Overall, I looked for what I could and for what I couldn’t I made a guess. My apologies if I was off on my details, I hope you can overlook that one bit of my inexperience. (It shall be rectified for any of my future projects…if I ever do have any again.)

Since it seems you knew that writing an MLD Sequel was a bad idea-according to that intro in the description-why did you go through with it?

Here’s how my writing process works: I don’t come up with my stories, I have to wait patiently for them to come to me. If I try the former, the end result is usually a scant few paragraphs or something that would be classified as a failed troll fic. (At least, that’s what it would appear to be.) Now the latter has only happened twice, but both occurrences have produced wonderful results. Also, they write themselves. Literally, I go sit in front of a keyboard for a straight 3-6 hours until I finish the whole shebang. However, I should mention that neither piece broke 5,000 words.

So when this idea comes along, manages to stay in my head three days after it initially struck, and the first draft (approx. 15,500 words) is larger than my other two fics combined, it’s pretty hard to ignore it, no? And what is the point in writing a sequel, much less an MLD sequel, if all it’s going to do is sit on your stick drive? So I look for a place to post it, find FIMFiction, and discover I am not even the fiftieth (I doubt my guess is too high) to write one of these things. Certainly puts a damper on things, yes?

However, considering the fact it made absolutely no sense why I wrote this in the first place, yet it was larger than my two existing short stories, kept me from throwing out the idea. So I went a-lookin’ for some help and was surprised when the help found me. After looking over what I had, my initial editor BL gave me a 7K word count supplement on pacing, story, and character development. That’s huge, especially just to fix something as trivial as an MLD sequel. And after re-writing the whole thing and finding it was considerably larger than quadruple Draft 1, I definitely couldn’t just forget about it now.

So that’s why I came here and that’s why I went ahead with GND. It became the biggest thing I ever wrote, and that’s not lost on me. And I earnestly tried to write a MLD sequel that wasn’t based on wish fulfillment or fan service as so many of the rest seem to be. Whether my sequel can actually be considered a well-constructed story with believable characters and motives is up to all of you. I’m just thankful for the experience I received in writing and publishing this goll-dern sequel.

You do realize the original isn’t all that great?

Don’t, just don’t. There is no need to light any fires. (You may not be trying to, but that’s what’s going to happen.) Did I know the original story could have been better? Absolutely. Did I see almost 5k comments saying how it moved them? Indeed I did. Do I think ROB has a master plan behind all of this: Not revising MLD, allowing so many crappy sequels, controlling the minds of our children to become his zombie drones? Most definitely…excluding the last part. But c’mon, obviously he’s using it to distract us from something else up his sleeve. But what?

In any case, I know the original could have been better written and I agree, however, I also see the impact it has made in it’s current form and that’s quite huge when you step back and look at it. It could be better, but I’m fine with how it is. That’s my statement, run with it.

If MLD sequels are supposedly so bad, what makes yours any different?

I claim nothing outside of the third and final Draft being much better than my second. I may go as far as to claim that it is better than the generic MLD sequel. (There is a common thread of mistakes that reoccur over and over again. Call them MLDS clichés, even.) But to be frank, that’s a pretty low bar in the first place. Point being, I did put effort into making sure it at least attempted to meet the standards of a well-written story. I’ll put it this way: The generic MLD sequel is written with wish-fulfillment as the underlying motive; I tried to write an authentic sequel that actually built upon the original instead of merely bringing Dad and Dashie back together for a “happy” ending.

I will not claim my sequel is automatically better than anyone else’s (as I said, I’m comparing it to the MLD clichés) and I certainly don’t claim it to be any good. That being said, while the author is always sure of his story, it is the public that has the final say. In other words, of course I’m going to think I did well, doesn’t mean I actually did. So please don’t hesitate to tell me if I did not and I should eat some more humble pie.

You like to talk don’t you?

That is part of the reason why I left. Not the entire reason, but it was certainly a part of it. I should be a politician; I’d be awesome at filibusters…if I knew how to debate, that is. My point is that I do not like who I become when I talk through a keyboard. Too many words, especially too many pertaining only to myself. It ticks me off something fierce, it does.

Can we see your Second Draft?

No. Just…just no. Nobody should have to be subjected to that. (By which I mean, that was before my standards changed and I got serious about writing an MLD sequel. It’s more along the lines of the common crap you’d find. And who wants to read more of that?)

Why’d you leave? Afraid of criticism?

I have already explained my departure to those who I thought deserved an explanation. If they decide to share the details with you, I won’t object. All I shall say is that it was for personal reasons and leave it at that. Were it not for that reason, I certainly would have taken my place against the firing wall and took your strongest barrages, but alas, I shall be absent. Do not think that keeps you from commenting and critiquing the fic; I implore you, please do. And do not think you are no longer capable of critiquing me; if you have something to say, do go and say it. Just know that I came here to post GND, and having done so, I have no real reason to stay.

The writing finger moves, and having writ, moves on…

…And since I just can’t suppress it, “With this sequel, I have brought new meaning to the word ‘pegasister.’” *rimshot* You have no idea how long I’ve waited to say that.

There. Now I move on.

…I liked it.

Where were you twelve questions ago? Uh, I mean, I’m glad you enjoyed it.

A Push in the Right Direction

I feel the sleep slip from my eyes as the harsh light of morning hits my face. As I squint to block it out, I pull myself up out of my horizontal position. I look about my living room, still unused to the recent change of scenery. I spend several minutes just staring at the blank walls where numerous portraits of my daughter and I used to hang until recently. My eyes then turn to the floor, clean and spotless; no knick-knacks, racing magazines or dumbbells cluttered about the carpet. I take notice of the couch, firm leather and a solid frame instead of worn cloth and a few missing legs. The only thing remotely familiar to me is my dad’s old recliner, albeit in much better condition than it was just a few days ago. Slowly, I finally get up off my ass and head to the kitchen for some much needed coffee. After the rejuvenating bitter, black liquid restores some control over my mental faculties, I sit at the table and just stare at my mug, replaying not only the events that transpired a few days ago, but also everything that has happened to me in the past fifteen years.

It’s been three days since they came for her. Three days since I said goodbye. Three days since she went back to her regular life. I knew that it’d be hard not having her here, but I didn’t think it’d come back to bite me in the ass like it is now. These past few days, all I’ve done is just roam about the house, replaying in my head those fifteen years we spent together. It’s like I’m in a haze and I can’t comprehend my surroundings. My routine has been to wake up, get that caffeine in my system, and then spend the whole day reminiscing. I’ve taken three sick days already; I’m not sure what my manager would think if I took a fourth.

I know I have to move on, I know she’s where she’s supposed to be…but I just can’t seem to get out of this rut. And so I walk down Memory Lane once again. I remember finding her in that cardboard box. I remember waking up the next morning to find her cuddling up next to me on the couch. I remember taking her to the park as she learned to fly. I remember making that first cake together the day she got her cutie mark. I remember later that night when she said “I love you, daddy,” and it all finally clicked. I remember all the Sunday afternoons watching NASCAR, cheering with her as the cars raced around the track. I remember the evenings sitting on the porch with her leaning against me as we watched the sun set. I remember the day when it all fell apart; when she finally saw the show and learned the truth. I remember spending those three days worrying about her and chastising myself for being so stupid. I remember that walk in the woods and how she came back, and we cried together under the large tree. And now I come to the most recent, and the hardest, memory of all.

I hear the knock at the door. Why did I answer it? I hear that voice, so soothing, yet powerful; so friendly, yet ominous. Stop this. You need to stop. I open the door and see Princess Celestia, along with the rest of the Mane Six, come to do what had to be done; the very thing I had been dreading the moment I brought Dashie through my door. Why didn’t I do anything?! That afternoon seemingly stretching on forever, trying so desperately to stop it, go against what I knew was inevitable and keep my daughter with me. Having to constantly remind myself this had to happen; it was always going to happen. You have to move on. Dashie coming down the stairs with her box of prized possessions. Why?! Why did they have to come now?! That one last hug, feeling her tears roll down my neck before she was whisked away. Dashie. My precious, little Dashie. The growing panic as I realized all evidence that proved Dashie had existed was erased and replaced with generic crap. And then I remember my relief when I saw my old album sitting on the coffee table, and the tears that flowed down my face as I looked at the contents.

With this new train of thought I wander back into the living room, the album sitting perfectly in the center of the coffee table. I open it for what must be the hundredth time in these last three days. The first few pages are filled with pictures from when my parents were still alive; all that color and the smiles on our faces. Then I turn a couple pages and see all the generic photos I slipped in; just to suspend that illusion of happiness. But just a few flips more and I come to a little cyan filly, her wide smile pointed towards the camera. I spend the next several hours reminiscing as I look at the rest of our memories. Eventually I hit a patch of blank pages, where more pictures would have been catalogued. I flip through this bit quickly so I can reach the end, where I keep my greatest treasure.

It’s interesting just how important a piece of paper marked with several lines of patterned graphite can hold so much value. Of course, that’s only when you are thinking materially; when you’re in a position like mine it’s the sentimentality that really makes it valuable. This could be a greasy napkin with crayon and I’d still treasure it like a diamond. What I hold in my hands is the very last words from my daughter. Not only are they words of love, but for me they are words of hope. It’s the hope that I can eventually move on and live life again; but I don’t see that happening anytime soon, not while I’m like this. I finally start reading, going back to the top and beginning again when I reach the bottom. I continue to re-read her letter until the sun sinks lower into the horizon and becomes a warm orange, its unappreciated splendor shining on my face.

I put the letter back into the album, being careful not to dog ear or accidentally rip it. I wander into the kitchen, the relatively stocked shelves staring back at me. I know I’m hungry just because common sense tells me I am, but I don’t feel hungry. I don’t feel anything. You wouldn’t think you could actually feel nothing, but you can. And it is a feeling I would not wish on my worst enemy. It’s like there’s this black hole just gorging itself on my emotions and fatigue. I need to clear my head, get some fresh air into my lungs. I need to take a walk.

It’s funny; the last time I took a walk, Dashie was gone. Then I found her and things got better. Maybe this time it will happen again. Heh, if only. I put my shoes on and grab my jacket before heading out the door. I spend several minutes just standing on my porch gazing at the sunset. It really is beautiful, but like all good things I know it’s going to come to an end; the warm orange glow will dissolve into a depressing blue. I start walking on the beaten path, casting a glance at our large lawn. I take note that the grass is several inches taller than it should be.

“If she was here, she would have mowed it all in ten minutes flat.”

I’m surprised; I haven’t said a word these past three days. That has to be progress, right? I continue my walk, breathing in the crisp evening air as the sun continues to fall. As I walk, I feel the tiniest fraction of my sorrow leave as the natural beauty that surrounds me takes my mind off my current situation; if only for a short moment. Eventually I reach the small meadow that lies a few yards away from the tree line of the forest. I look up at the sky to see how much light I have left. Not enough for a full trek through the woods, but enough to at least make it to the Tree.

As I walk through the forest, despite the multiple trees of various kinds that fill my vision, I very easily pick out the Tree. Its trunk is so large and thick; the huge canopy of leaves creates an almost perfect shelter from the elements. It was the tree that to me looked like the perfect place for an angry Pegasus Pony to sit out a storm. I walk over to it and sit down. I put my head back against the rough bark and close my eyes; I take a long inhale, soaking up that natural aroma therapy of the forest. The dry pine needles on the forest floor; the soft and yet repugnant scent of the flowers that grow along the edges of the trail; the bark of numerous trees each adding its own smell to the overall perfume. I’m not sure if I’m just imaging all this, but it all smells so green; so fertile; so…alive. My mind goes back to that day, the last time I took a walk like this, the day the storm hit.

It had been three days since Dashie ran away. I was walking through the woods (not particularly thinking I’d find her, but hoping just the same) and I decided to get out of the rain. I noticed the Tree, its simple majesty and how it just seemed to be what looked like the perfect shelter for anyone, or anypony, that may have need of its services. So I sat down, letting the thick canopy of leaves keep me from getting completely soaked. I just stared at all the foliage in front of me, trying to get my thoughts in order. I couldn’t believe I had been so stupid, I should have told her sooner. Now she was gone…maybe she wasn’t going to come back. In that moment, as I sat there listening to the rain and staring off into space, with no knowledge of whether I’d see her again, I did the only thing I could think of.

“I’m so sorry! I’m just so sorry...” Dashie.

My eyes shoot open. I’m not in the rain anymore, I’m back in the present; watching the last traces of orange fade into the purple nighttime sky. The words left my mouth before I knew what was going on. At this point-to use that old meme-my heart explodes; even more than it did only a few days ago. I put my head between my knees as the tears start to roll down my cheeks. How can I keep going on like this? How can I ever move on with my life with this weight in my heart? How can I possibly live without her? How can I possibly move on? But then a part of me asks, “How can I not?” I told myself I would live my life. Not just for me, but for her. Why can’t I accept the fact that she’s gone and start getting my life back?

Amidst my rampant emotions and my tears, I search for an island in this sea of confusion. I go back to that wonderful night: the night after she performed an actual Sonic Rainboom; the night we made that awful cake, but ate it anyway. The night I heard those words that solidly convinced me she was my daughter and I was her father.

“Goodnight daddy. I love you.”

Under that tree in the woods, my body quivering, I whisper,

“Goodnight, my little Dashie. I love you too.”

I wasn’t ready. I’ll never be ready to say goodbye. I can’t believe I was so naïve as to think I could get over Dashie. How can I possibly start moving on with this weight in my heart? What’s the point in life anymore? Why should I keep going?

Because she’d want you to.

Of course I’d think that. That’s the only reason I’d even attempt to pull myself together right now. I don’t want to listen; I just want to lay here and die. Anything is better than this pain in my heart.

Get off your ass and go inside.

I don’t care anymore. It doesn’t matter where I am; I’m still going to be a wreck. What does it matter whether I’m in the fetal position on the carpet or in the dirt? I just want the pain to go away.

Get off your ass. Go inside.

Screw it, I’m done. I’m done trying to convince myself everything will turn up rosy. Nothing is going to take this pain away; I’m going to be stuck with it forever.

What did she ever see in you?

This new thought stings. But it has a point. If Dashie saw me now, I would never live it down. I’m supposed to be strong for her and look where I am! Why can’t I move on?! Why can’t I find the strength in myself?! Why can’t I do it?!

Who said you have to be strong?

And there it is. I don’t have to be all sunshine and rainbows. I just have to continue to exist. If not for me, then at least so Dashie can still have some pride in her pops.

I wipe my nose on my sleeve and pick myself up off the ground, my body continuing to heave as I take sporadic gasps. I start walking back towards the house; tears still running down my face. I’m nowhere near emotional or psychological stability, and I don’t plan on being there anytime soon. But I have to push myself on, if only by taking it one day at a time. I don’t want to do it, but I have to. For Dashie.

The Other Side of the Coin

Now that was the mother of all headaches. Had I not blacked out, and if I wasn’t in excruciating pain, I would have found that rather awesome. But, here I am, right in the middle of Ponyville…a mile off the ground and I haven’t flapped either wing to get here. I have to say, it’s nice to have a moment all to myself and really soak in Ponyville. Granted, it might be more enjoyable if there were actually other ponies, but in its own way, the quiet adds to the atmosphere. No vendors screaming their sales pitches, no clouds to worry about, absolutely no hustle or bustle below. Yep, I’m looking at Ponyville at its purest…okay, now I’m getting creepy. And so is Ponyville; forget the silence, I want the noise back.

And how exactly am I standing on air? I know dreams can be cool and all, but I’ve had enough. Thankfully, gravity is kinder here than in reality. I just glide down and put all four hooves on the hard cobbled road, trying to think were the exit would be. Aside from Daring Do, I’ve gone through at least a third of the science fiction section at the library. And if I’m right, this is just like that Dreamscape story I read a couple months ago. While the story was more complicated and the situation was much more dangerous, I’m sure this place works the same way. I just need to find the door out of here. A thorough search through town gives me no promising leads; nothing is standing out to me. This was so much easier in the book. Okay, so the door isn’t in town. Let’s see how far this place spreads out.

I take to the air and fly as high as possible. Just how far am I going to have to go to find the exit? I mean, outside in the real world, on a clear day, I can see the two-thirds of the Everfree forest and in the other direction I can see the silhouette of Canterlot hanging off the side of the mountain. But it isn’t a huge forest or the sunlight gleaming off Canterlot Castle that grabs my attention. About ten miles away from Ponyville is this weird…bubble. Yeah, a big purple bubble with a bizarre looking city inside. And every couple of minutes a large ripple goes through the bubble, starting on one end and passing to the other. Now I’m finally getting somewhere!

As I fly towards the weird city, I just can’t help but feel it looks…familiar, somehow. But that’s impossible. It looks nothing like anything in Equestria. Oh, right…I’ve been to another world. Boy, that place must have been a dump. The city looks so desolate, how in the world could I have liked living there? I don’t think anyone in their right mind would want to live there. The buildings are old with vines crawling up the sides and graffiti everywhere, the trees are on the skimpy side, and it doesn’t look like the sun would shine on the city-even if the bubble wasn’t partially blocking it. And this is what Twilight wants me to remember? What could I have possibly experienced to make this a place of happy memories?

It doesn’t take the long to find the source of the ripples: something is banging on the side of the bubble. No…not something, somepony is bucking the side. As I get closer it gets harder for me to believe who I see. I know it’s just a dream and all, but this still seems impossible. Cyan coat, rainbow mane, and now I can even see we have the same cutie mark. It’s me on the other side of the wall, bucking like crazy. She doesn’t notice me as I land next to the side of the bubble.

“Hey.” I call out, she keeps bucking.

“Hey!” Still nothing.

“HEY!” Now I finally have her attention.

She takes a few minutes to turn and face me. As soon as she does, she just gives me this look. That’s the same face of scorn I get from Cloud Kicker. What’d I do to twist her tail? She turns back around and goes back to bucking the wall.

“Oh c’mon! You’re the only other pony in here! Can you at least tell me where I can get out?”

It’s so weird hearing my voice answer me back. “Just click your heels three times and say ‘There’s no place like home,’ and then the good witch will whisk you out of here.”

Alien references, very unfair. “Ha, that’s a good one, hilarious. But seriously, how do I get out?”

My double stops bucking and faces me again. “Why should I help you?”

“Uh...because we’re the same pony? It’d be a good idea?”

“Funny, I thought I was ‘trash’ for Twilight to take to the curb.”

Ooh…I didn’t think that would come back to bite me in the plot. “You heard that, huh?”

“Rainbow, I’ve heard everything, I’ve seen everything, and I’ve almost felt everything. Especially those aspirin you popped; made me feel loopy for a good six hours. At least I got to watch the show with you. Nice to see that’s how I wound up on Earth.”

Did that mean she’s what stopped the pain when I yelled this morning? “What about the second one? You feel that one too?”

“Not really. After the first, I was ready for it. I heard the whole conversation. Nice to know I was getting through though, I’ve been bucking for two weeks trying to get past this freaking barrier. And after that comment, I put in some extra oomph and boom! You show up.”

“Speaking of that, what is this place?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say it’s our mind. That’s the only reason I can think of for why you’ve been seeing my memories and I’m stuck in this stupid bubble. I know she’s our friend and all, but Twilight could have done something a bit less drastic than this.”

“Well at least she’s not the reason my body shut down.”

“Yeah, you’re right, that was all you.”

“Come again?” What the hay is she talking about?

“This isn’t the first time we’ve met, Rainbow. Two weeks ago we were introduced to each other. And I have to say, you did not like the idea of sharing ‘your’ brain. Now that was an interesting fight; I didn’t know I could actually shriek at that pitch.”

“Is this going anywhere?”

“Hopefully. How about you shut up a second and let me talk?”

“My, aren’t we moody?”

“If you had been called a ‘clone’ and ‘freak’ or, my personal favorite, ‘unnecessary,’ you’d be cranky, too.”

“Did I really say that?”

“Let’s just say we we’re both having a bad day. You just woke up from napping for who knows how long, and I had just left home. I called you plenty of colorful names too.”

“Uh-huh…like what?”

“Trust me; both of us would rather not hear it again. All you have to know is that we didn’t exactly hit it off. So Twilight decided to send me to time out, even though I wasn’t the one who started it. What a good friend.”

“Hey! Don’t talk bad about Twi! She’s been working real hard to fix this problem.”

“I am not a problem, okay!? I am perfectly cooperative. You’re the one who didn’t want me.”

“And why should I? From the looks of this dump I’d say Twilight would do me a favor if she got rid of it.”

“And now we’re back to that. And here I thought you were better than this. You certainly seemed like it on the show.”

“I’m sorry…‘show?’” This was getting more confusing by the second.

She sat down on her haunches and got comfortable; apparently we were going to be here awhile.

“Yeah, ‘show.’ On earth, we’re in a little girls’ TV show. But that doesn’t stop a whole lot of adults, both the women and the men from liking it. So you can only imagine how hard I took the news when I finally found out. It’s sort of hard to have any pride in yourself when you’re supposed to be a doll.”

“You’re doing a wonderful job of convincing me that this was all a positive experience.”

“When I really take a long and hard look back on it, it wasn’t. Let’s see…I was all alone, nobody-“

“Nopony” I interjected.

“Right, no-‘pony’ was there to teach me what to eat or how to fly, I had to keep a low profile all of my life, and I only had one real friend. All in all, I’d say it would definitely have been a horrible experience. Except…”

She looked down as a sad expression spread across her face. “Except...what?” I asked.

“Except I got the best dad in the world to raise me. That’s the only thing that made it all worth it. With him I was able to live there, away from all my friends and family, no flightcamp or wonderbolts, no place where I could really fit, and yet he made me feel…normal.”

She gave a heavy sigh and got back up on her hooves. “But, that’s over now. This was my choice and we knew…I knew it was the right one.” Then she looked me straight in the eye. “But after Twi brought you back out of…wherever it was that you were stuck, and we had our fight, I’m not so sure I made the right call anymore.”

“What do you mean? Of course it was right! You belonged back home!”

“Ah, but that’s the thing. I left my home to come back here. Earth is where I was home. Ponyville is all you. So if I belong ‘back home,’ why am I here? Answer me that.”

“Oh come on, that’s not fair.”

“Fair?” Now she was getting tense. “I was stuck all alone in a place that Celestia herself had written off, I had to grow up all by myself with only a human dad to raise me-puberty was a real joy, let me tell you-and, after I had finally gotten settled in, my ‘friends’ come out of the blue and take me away from everything I had known. And to top it off, after I decided to come back, everything that I was before, through no obvious fault of my own, didn’t want to accept what I had become. So tell me, Rainbow, is that fair?”

I was thinking of a million things to say back, but not a single line made it to my mouth.

She gave a heavy sigh and rubbed her head. “I’m sorry; I know that’s not your fault. Heh, I can only imagine what it must have been like for you in here. I’ve only been in here for two weeks and it’s been torture; I bet fifteen years was agony for you. You must have gone crazy being all alone in here. At least I had my dad.”

She turned and started to walk away from me, facing towards the center of the city. “I wasn’t kidding before. All you have to do is just think ‘exit’ and you should wake up. Tell the girls ‘Dashie’ said hi.”

That was it. That was the answer I had been looking for…but now I didn’t want to go. Did I really say those things to her? What was my deal? “Dashie” seemed like an okay mare, why wouldn’t I have wanted her to be a part of me? And why couldn’t I feel anything looking at this place? She may be all my memories of here, but I should be feeling something right now, regardless of her separation. In any case, it was too late now, my mind was made up.

“Hey, uh…Dashie?!” She turned her head towards me. “If I can just think my way out of here, then I can think my way into there, right?”

A look of surprise spread across her face as she turned back towards me. “Um, yeah, I guess that could work.”

Alright, now I just have to figure out the best way to do it. I pictured in my mind my hoof going through the wall of the bubble. To my surprise it actually gave and I was able to push all the way through. Soon I joined my double in the middle of the road. We just stared for a few minutes before she finally broke the silence.

“So…what now?”

“Hmm…I want you to show me it.” Now she looked even more confused.

“Show you what?”

“Show me your life here. I’ve been having dreams about this place for two weeks. I want to see if I can jog my memory.”

“Technically it’s already been jogged, but hey, let’s fly!”

Soon we were soaring above the city and taking in the scenery. At this altitude, I noticed the city was a lot bigger than what I had seen on the outside. It stretched farther than what I could have thought possible. I began to wonder if we could have gone anywhere on Earth before we stopped at our first destination.

“Alright, you see this alley?” She pointed her hoof. “This is where Dad found me. And that-” now she pointed to a house a few blocks away, “-is where I lived for the first nine years of my life. Want to see it?”

I gave a nod and we flew down to the house. It was just like the rest of the buildings in town: old and ragged. Fortunately, the inside looked better than the outside.

“Ah, just how I remember it! I wonder if the TV will work…” She pressed the “On” button and it sprang to life; this weird talking sponge was on the screen. “Ha! Spongebob! Man, I haven’t watched that for awhile.”

“Hey Dashie? You’ve been back here already, right?” It seemed odd that she didn’t even know if the TV would work if this was her home.

“Uh, yes, right…want to see my old room?”

“Sure”

Soon I was trotting right behind her as we went down the hallway to her bedroom. It was an interesting sight to see. Tacked on drawings and posters of various athletes covered up where the wall paper was peeling. Numerous dolls that looked like little (“humans” I think she said?) were strewn across the floor along with some little toy…vehicles, I think? I saw plenty of them outside and on some of her posters but we don’t have anything like them in Equestria. I moved on from the toys on the floor to the bed in the corner. The bed was small and simple, but when I pressed my hoof into the mattress it felt rather soft. And on her nightstand was a little picture frame with a photo of what looked like one of her birthdays. It was cool seeing all this stuff, but it felt like something was missing. If these where my memories, why didn’t I feel any connection to them? Maybe something I knew was a big deal would get through.

“Hey Dashie?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me, how did you get your cutie mark? I mean, without flight camp I don’t see how you could have ever reached that point.”

“Ah! Follow me!” We were heading out the door when she suddenly stopped and said “Wait!” She opened the coat closet and brought out this smelly little dog costume. “Phew, yep! Still smells funny.” With dog costume in hoof, we took to the sky. Soon we were in standing in the middle of a small park.

“Alright, here is where I learned to fly! And you see this?” She dropped the costume on the ground. “I had to wear this stupid thing until I could finally get myself off the ground and into the air. I definitely don’t miss it, let me tell you.” She continued to give me the tour. “You see that tree? Right next to the sandbox? I jumped off that tree five hundred and sixty-two times over the course of a year before I could make it to fifty feet. Then it took me another year before I was able to do the Sonic Rainboom. Now that was a day to remember.”

This time I could almost see the young filly clambering up the tree, all excited to fly. And I’m sure I could feel the shock wave from the Rainboom. Then I imagined just how far from ear to ear her smile must have spread when she saw that rainbow bursting out of her mane behind her. But that was coming from my own experience, not the one in this park. I should have felt something here! If anything could get these memories to click, it would have been this. Maybe I’m looking for the wrong ones?

“What other places are there?”

“We still haven’t gone to my second house. That was way better than all of this here. Wide open fields, nice big forest, and a much nicer spread.”

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Despite my apparent enthusiasm, I was growing more concerned. None of this was making any sense. If she’s supposed to be me fifteen years later, I should be feeling something, right? Something should have been clicking. Some sense of nostalgia at least.

It took a good twenty minutes to get to the second house; it’s on a property that’s at least a hundred miles away from the city. And boy it’s big! It’s almost as huge as Sweet Apple Acres.

“Now you see that field there?” she yelled over the wind, “My dad would give me thirty bucks-“

“Bucks? He kicked you? Why?” That didn’t sound like “father of the year” to me.

“Oh, right, forgot about that. I meant ‘dollars,’ we use those instead of bits. He gave me thirty every two weeks for mowing it. Then I got fifty every time I’d plow the driveway during the winter. Now that was always a pain.”

“Sounds like hard work!” I yelled back.

“Eh, it’s a living.” She replied with a smile.

We landed in front of the house. It definitely was larger and in much better condition than its predecessor. It looked like a log cabin, but upon closer inspection I could see the brick underneath.

“How the hay did you afford this?”

“Once in a blue moon, Dad would try his luck at the local casino. Usually he would only make a gain of fifty dollars or so, but one night he just came through the door with the biggest grin on his face. ‘Dashie!’ he yells, ‘I won the jackpot! We can get a better house!’ And after that, we soon moved out here. I remember flying ahead and waiting on the porch for Dad to show up with the moving truck.”

“Can we go inside?”

“Actually,” she seemed to be hesitant, “I’d prefer to take a walk through the woods.”

“A walk?” Were we really the same mare?

“They’re not as boring as you think.”

I was soon trotting next to Dashie on the beaten-down trail. Obviously, our definitions of boring were as different as night and day. The whole time she just pointed out the numerous features in the backdrop: patches of wildflowers, a pond or two, several bird nests, all that foresty stuff. I didn’t see how she could actually find this entertaining. I thought I would fall asleep from her constant droning until this huge tree came into view.

Now I’ve been around trees, but I’ve never seen one like that! Forget napping, I could build a house in that tree! I interrupted Dashie from her description of this old log she found and drew her attention to the tree. She just ignored me and kept right on walking. Fine, if she doesn’t want to stop and take a look at it, then I will.

I fly up and settle in. This tree has to be the best tree I have ever been in. I can lie down and never worry about rolling off, and the canopy is so thick I doubt any rain would touch me.

“Hey!” I hear Dashie calling up to me. “What’re you doing up there? I still haven’t shown you the big clump of tree fungus. Don’t you want to see that?”

“No, not really. Hey, here’s an idea: why don’t we just hang out in this tree?!”

Now she seemed anxious. “Aw c’mon, Rainbow; don’t you want to finish the trail?”

“Don’t you think talking about every single log and twig that comes our way is boring? Really, did being on Earth mess up your brain?”

“No! My brain is perfectly fine.”

“Then why don’t you want to hang out in this beautiful tree?”

“Because,” now she had the moody look again, “Because I already have. A long time ago.”

“Then why not come up and join me?”

“I can’t.” She hung her head.

“Why not?”

“Because it brings back memories.”

My head perked up at this, “Bad memories?”

“No…” she then turned towards the tree, I could see this faraway look in her eyes, “…one of the best I have.”

Before I could ask her more, she started to reminisce.

“It was rainy and I was covered in crap. I felt like crap too. Three days prior, I had learned I came from the TV show and I confronted my Dad about it. I spent a good two hours blasting him before I finally ran to my room and bolted out the window. Then I spent the next three days roughing it out here. In that time, I realized what an ass I had been. But I didn’t think my Dad would want me back, as silly as that seems. I was up in that tree waiting out a storm when I heard him walk up and sit down underneath me. And you know what I heard him say? ‘I’m sorry.” Here was my dad just looking out for his little girl and he thought it was all his fault.”

“It wasn’t?” I interrupted.

She shot me such a look, “Of course not! He just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t do anything drastic, but I did. Anyways, I came down, we made up and everything after that was absolutely wonderful. I wish I could go back to that day, nestled in his arms again, just one more time…”

She stood there for a good five minutes before she snapped out of it.

“Anyway, it’s just a tree. Let’s go back to the house.” Her smile did not return for the rest of the walk. After a half hour, we had finished the trek. Even though there wasn’t too much light, I could tell the sun was setting outside the bubble. It didn’t take long for us to reach the house.

“Shall we go in?”

Now she was really anxious, “Nah, you go ahead. I lived here for six years; I’ve seen all of it already.”

“C’mon, what’s your deal? Why don’t you want to go inside?”

“I just prefer the breeze out here.”

“I’m sure there are fans inside, now c’mon you big chicken.”

“I am not chicken!”

“Then you first.”

She gave a scowl as I gave a smirk, but soon the anger was replaced with this look of dread as she opened the front door. I was right behind her as we walked in. The kitchen was on our left and the living room was on our right. Unlike when we saw the last house, she didn’t seem as talkative this time around. I bumped into her as she stopped in front of the living room.

“Hey, what gives?!” She didn’t respond. She just stayed anchored in that one spot. “Hello? Dashie?” I waved a hoof in front of her face, still nothing. I started making all kinds of faces at her before her right hoof collided with my stomach.

“I’m awake, you know.”

“Could have fooled me…ow.”

She walked towards the middle of the room as I picked myself off the ground. She sat down on the couch as I picked myself up off the carpet.

“We watched NASCAR in this room. I remember all those Sunday afternoons cheering on the cars on the other side of the screen. And then there where all the times we played co-op; ha, all those noobs.” She had the faraway look in her eyes again, a smile on her face. “This is where I hung out after mowing the lawn. This is the room-” now the smile slowly disappeared as she continued, “Where I learned who I really was and where I came from. And,” now she hung her head, her voice was now a whisper “this is where I said goodbye.” She slowly buried her face in her hooves.

I was at a loss for words. I didn’t know what to do here; I’m not always the best in situations like this. I thought about what I would want somepony to do if I was like this, but then again, Dashie wasn’t exactly me. But looking at her, sitting like that with her head in her hooves, I figured it wouldn’t hurt just to sit next to her. She didn’t acknowledge me as I sat down beside her. I hesitantly put a hoof on her shoulder and said “It’s okay.”

“Yeah,” she brought her head out of her hooves; I could see a tear in her eye, “Yeah, everything’s good.” As if.

“Yeah…we may not be the same, but I know when I’m upset and I can easily tell something is eating you. So c’mon, tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing,” She wiped her eyes, “I’m fine.”

“Then why didn’t you want to sit in the tree? Why didn’t you want to come in the house? And why…” I grabbed her shoulders and turned her towards me, “…can’t you give yourself a straight answer?”

“Because,” she pushed my hooves off, “there’s nothing to say. I said goodbye and that’s that.”

“So after fifteen years of spending time with your dad who loved and cared for you, you’re completely fine with saying goodbye?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She was getting tense, but I didn’t care. I was going to get a straight answer from her.

“Really? How much time did you have? An hour or two? And you were completely okay with that?”

“Yes.” now I could sense the aggression in her tone “I’m fine. And what do you care?”

“Because! We’re the same pony, Dashie! It took me months getting used to the idea of leaving home and I still visit my parents every other week to check in. And yet you’re completely fine with leaving your dad forever in just a few hours? I just don’t believe it. That doesn’t make any sense.”

She stood up and yelled at me, “We are not the same! We will never be the same! Just suck me in and get this over with already.”

Now I stood up and yelled at her. “Is that what Rainbow Dash would say?! Would she give up that easily?! Who do you think you are?!”

“I’m freaking Rainbow Dash and I’m perfectly fine! What do you want me to say, that I miss my Pops? That I just can’t bear to live without him?” her anger slowly faded as tears started to slowly roll down her face, “That I wish I had more time with him? That if I could go back, I would?” and now she stopped holding back. “That I’m absolutely miserable without him?” She plopped back down onto the couch as the tears freely fell from her eyes.

Even though we had our differences, she reacted the way I knew she would. I know that’s how I would take it if I were in her place. And that’s what bugged me: I was in her place. She was me, why wasn’t I feeling anything? I still felt no connection at all to this place. I lived here for six years, and yet I couldn’t tell you were the bathroom was. It just didn’t make any sense. As I continued to ponder, Dashie just sat there with her head in her hooves, her cries muffled, but audible. I finally snapped myself out of my thoughts and attended to her.

“Are you happy now?” she said bitterly, sniffling all the while. “Is that what you were looking for?”

I wouldn’t say happy, but at least I got my straight answer. “That’s all I wanted to hear.” I put a hoof on her shoulder as the tears continued to fall.

“Well a fat lot of good it does.”

“Tell me why you spent the last two weeks bucking that wall instead of hanging out here.”

“I…I was scared, okay! Forget that, I was terrified!”

“Why?”

“Like you said, I only had a few hours to say goodbye. I thought that if I went back to what I had on Earth, what I left behind, then I wouldn’t be able to move forward, you know? That I couldn’t live with coming back to Equestria.”

“And why did you have to come back?”

She wiped her nose with her hoof. “Because I’m one of the elements, right? I have to be in Equestria in case something happens.”

“And?”

“And, and I wasn’t supposed to be there. I didn’t belong there with all those people. I needed to come home to where my…my real family and friends were!” she broke out into a sob and fell into one of the throw pillows on the couch. I could hear her muffled voice through the pillow. “Why did I just leave him there?!”

Now I was in over my head. It’s been a long time since I got this upset, but when I did it would take forever to get me to calm down, no matter who spoke to me. And even then, I don’t think it was over anything as heavy as this. “Hey! Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“No, I’m not! I’m hung up on this and I need-I need-I need to keep going.” She said between gasps.

“Why? Why do you have to leave it behind?”

“Because,” she came up for air and wiped her nose again, wiping the excess snot on the couch before laying her head on the pillow. “I know that if I keep thinking about it, I…I’ll want to go back.”

I tried to give her my best smile, “And what’s wrong with that? Why can’t you just pop back?”

“You don’t get it. He’s going-he’s going faster than I am, and I-I-I don’t know if he’ll be there when I get back. And if I come back to a…to a tombstone, how will I ever-ever pull myself together?”

“What?” Was she actually serious? I’m sure Celestia could find a way to slow it down. Was it really that permanent?

“I’m a part-a part of you, Rainbow. If you aren’t working right, then ev-ev-everyone you love would be screwed. I just-I just can’t let that happen. Even…” although her gasps were still sporadic and the tears were still coming full force, she seemed to be regaining some control, “Even if I have to leave my dad behind. I-I know that he knows that would happen, and I know he’s p-p-proud of me and he can take-take care of himself. So-so I just have to-have to get past this and get my act together.” She buried her face back into the pillow as she continued to try and regain control of herself.

Now I knew for sure that whatever disagreements I had the first time we met were because I was absolutely out of my mind. In just a few hours she made a choice like this? I’ve only had to do that like three times in my life, and every time I had at least a week to think it over. But here she was trying to push past it all so Ponyville, no, Equestria, could get Rainbow Dash back. That’s too much to ask of one pony, especially with only a few hours for her to decide. I doubt I could be brave to that extent.

And that’s when it hit me: I wasn’t that brave, but she was. That’s when it finally started clicking and making sense. She wasn’t just a bunch of extra memories; she was a completely different Rainbow Dash. I couldn’t just absorb her like she kept saying: she was a whole other pony. I wasn’t going to remember any of these memories because they weren’t mine to remember. Likewise, she couldn’t remember my life because she wasn’t me; she was never me.

And that’s when I realized I had to get her out. It didn’t matter that I was fine with her now; she obviously wasn’t going into this for the right reasons. I didn’t matter if it was because of her sense of loyalty or because it was the “right” thing to do, it wasn’t good enough for her to do it because she had too; it had to be because she was ready to. And unless she has my memories, she’d never really adjust to life on this side. She needed more time.

“Hey. Hey!” She pulled her head out of the pillow, “You loved your Dad right? With all your heart?”

“Yeah. But-but I-”

“No! No buts! He was-is your dad and you should have had more time!” She finally seemed to get a grip on herself with this being said.

“Huh? Wha-what are you saying?”

“I was wrong the first time around. I thought you were just a set of memories I didn’t need. But you’re not; you’re a whole other life I had. I know you were being the better mare and sucking it up for the greater good, but that doesn’t change the fact you left home with only a few hours notice.” She wiped her eyes and sat up on the couch, she still gave a gasp or two. “Dashie, I’m ready for you now; I just needed to understand you weren’t a set of memories, but a whole different me. And that’s why I have to get you out.”

“What…what do you mean?” she was returning to her natural breathing pattern.

“You may want to do this, but I can see you’re not ready for it. You’re still back on Earth. You need more time, Dashie. And I’m going to give you it.”

I closed my eyes and started thinking about leaving. I pictured a great big door, opening wide and sucking me out back into reality. I heard an explosion in front of me and a gust of wind blew through my mane.

“What are you doing!?”

“Getting myself out of here and back to the real world!” I pulled Dashie off the couch and started pushing her towards the portal in front of the living room doorway.

“Wait! Wait! What will this accomplish? Why don’t you just suck me in and we’ll head out that way?!” she yelled over the wind coming out of the portal.

“It won’t work! I can’t just suck you up, you’re a completely different me! There’s no room for me to suck you into! You have to go out there and get yourself ready! Otherwise the fuse isn’t going to work; it’d be impossible if we tried right now!” I continued to push as she continued to drag her hooves.

“But-But I’m not ready for out there! It’s not what I’m used to!”

“And that’s why I’m doing this! How can you be Rainbow Dash if you can’t live her life!?”

We were just a few feet away now, but she turned around and pushed back.

“Why are you doing this?! Why can’t we just fuse and everything will go back to normal?!”

“Because it’s not normal for you anymore!” I think she finally understood now.

“If you’re going to do this, you have to be absolutely ready for it! And I know you didn’t have nearly enough time to think! So go out there, deal with it and take all the time you need! I’m in no rush! Now go!” I spun her around and gave a great big push, sending her reeling backwards. She grabbed the edges of the portal, struggling to keep herself from being pulled in.

“Are you sure?!”

A large smile spread across my face. “You’re not just another set of memories, Dashie! You’re just as much Rainbow Dash as I am! So take as long as you need and do whatever it takes until you’re ready to really be the awesome mare I know we are, okay!?”

“Okay…Hey Rainbow?!”

“Yeah?!”

“Thank you.”

And with that, she let go and was sucked into the portal. After a few seconds, the portal shut with a whoosh. And now I was all by myself. It didn’t take long for me to get bored. Since it was there, I decided to turn the TV on. The picture was black, but I could hear a heart monitor beeping through the speakers. I guessed this was what Dashie was seeing now. I dropped down onto the couch and got comfortable.

I wish I had some popcorn.