Mistakes Were Made / Lost Elements

Warning! This contains some violence and "strong language."

Mike woke to darkness.  The alarm had not gone off. No light had begun to peek through the blinds over his window. The house was quiet but for a deep rumbling that seemed to emanate from somewhere below and behind his bed.  Groaning, he reached over for his nearby phone. The time was apparently four in the morning. With a few muttered curses about crazy dreams and other things that pass through one’s mind in the middle of the night, he rose and began his, now less than usual, early morning routine.

Bleary eyed and still somewhat stiff, he donned an old track suit. Mike took a moment or two to run through his usual creaks, cracks and groans before wiring his mp3 player through his clothing to prevent it from bouncing or catching. He bent over to procure his old sneakers from beneath a pile of laundry only to hear a loud pop as yet another joint in his spine cracked. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he made his way to the living room where he intended to don the footwear.

Upon arrival, he flopped onto the great pile of blankets that presently lay on the couch. The ensuing terrified squeak that emanated from the blankets caused him to tumble off and onto the floor.

“What the-!? Fluttershy? Is that you?”

A strawberry blond mess of hair poked from beneath the covers. Even in her apparent dozy state Fluttershy’s hair seemed to be perfectly maintained in such a way that half her face was yet hidden behind her lightly tinted locks. This was in sharp contrast to the host, who sat gazing up at her from his position on the floor.  His shortly cropped auburn hair, even with such a light sleep, seemed to stick out at every conceivable odd angle.

“Oh, yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No the apology is mine. I didn’t realize you were there,” he said with a groan as he stood and restretched his tense limbs. “I thought you were in sleeping in the bunks with Rainbow Dash. Mattress too stiff for your liking? I do the same thing now and again..”

“Oh,oh no,” she said vehemently shaking her head. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

A note of concern entered Mike’s voice. Fearing another potential breakdown like Dash had started to suffer earlier, he spoke as softly as possible, “Is something wrong? I’ll gladly listen if you need someone to talk to.  I’ve been lost far from home too with no way back. Not quite the same situation as you six, but, I can at least sympathize…”

“Oh, oh no. I’m sorry. I-it’s nothing like that. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” He pressed.

“Rainbow snores.”

Mike stopped to listen. A bemused look spread across his features  as he realized the rumble that had woken him moments ago was in fact coming from the room beneath his, now on the opposite end of the building.

“That’s Rainbow Dash?” he said with a hint of awe in his voice.

“Yes, dear, that is in fact Rainbow,” came a voice from near he stairwell.

Mike turned to look at the speaker only to feel his cheeks begin to heat. Instead of just Rarity, who’s voice he was happy he had identified correctly, there, silhouetted against the light stood both she and Twilight. With what light there was to be had, he could see many things in the dimly lit area. Chief among these observations was that his guests were apparently a bit cold. In an attempt to save their modesty, he raised a hand to his eyes pinching them shut with a thumb and forefinger.

With a deep breath he managed to stammer out, “I-I take it y-you two had trouble sleeping as well?”

“Yes. Rainbow is even noisier in her sleep than that contraption you used to convey us here.”

“Rarity!”

“T-that wasn’t very nice Rarity… E-even if it is true.”

Mike mumbled to himself behind the palm of his hand, “Magical nudist vegetarians from another plane of existence and they still think Bruiser’s a POS…”

“What was that dear?”

“N-nothing. Um, would you mind covering up a bit?”

Twilight was first to respond. “Is something wrong?”

Rarity, though Mike couldn’t see it, paled in horror. “Oh. Oh dear. I think I understand.”

“What is it Rarity.”

“Look at him Twilight.”

“What about him? He looks the same as earlier. He’s just wearing different… clothes.”

As she spoke, Twilight made the connection. So did Fluttershy, who, with a squeak, disappeared back under the mound of blankets that she was yet entirely covered in.

“Yea. Not my smoothest move,” Mike  stated from behind his hand. “I probably should have guessed that clothes aren’t exactly a normal thing based on how you showed up at my place…”

“I had just assumed that it had something to do with the fact that you were at work. Most everyony wears something when they’re at work.”

“Everypony?”

“Yes, everypony does. Even it’s it’s just a pair of glasses or a hat or something. It’s sort of a signal that you’re on the job…”

“I see. Well… Ah, clothes around here are more of a mandatory thing. I apologize. I  really should have given you all pajamas or something… Here. If you’ll step to the side, I’ll get you all some tshirts or something…”

“Darling, you’ve already seen everything we would be covering anyway. Go ahead and remove your hand so you can see where you’re going.”

“N-no. That’s alright. I’m perfectly okay with being blind for a bit.”

“A-are we not attractive?”

“NO! I mean, ah, no… No, you’re definitely all r-remarkably attractive. It’s just that, I, ah…”

Twilight thought for a moment before announcing, “Oh! I get it. You’re not into mares are you?”

“Into what?”

“Mares! You know, females.”

“No! NO. I assure you, I am definitely a fan of women. I just like to at least try to be a gentleman when the occasion arises.”

“Darling, Mike, regardless as to what or whom you find attractive, I am rather cold, and Fluttershy seems to have passed out again, more likely due to horror at her apparent condition. Would you be a dear and please procure us something so that we can at least look at each other when we speak?”

“Gladly, just step to the side so I don’t accidentally run into you or something,” Mike chuckled in exasperation.

“Fine.”

Twilight and Rarity moved to the side as Mike gingerly made his way past. In doing so, he used his hand as a shield, allowing him to view his feet and not much else. Returning to his room, he procured a pair of old bathrobes, several disused pairs of shorts, and roughly six extra long tshirts that he rarely wore or used any more. He returned with the laundry much as he had back at the office, piled high to purposely obstruct his view.

“Do me a favor. Explain the situation to the others before I get back, will you?”

“Gladly darling, if only to save you any further discomfort.”

“Thanks.”

Speaking from behind the pile of laundry, he extended a hand containing clothes for the two that stood on the other side of the pile. The pair immediately donned the meager offerings with few complaints. What complaints were to be had, as was expected, came from Rarity.

As he began to make his way down the stairs, he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, his eyes met with a concerned look from Twilight.

“Wait, Mike, where are you going?”

“I can’t sleep. Weird dreams and Dash’s snoring make what sleep I can get tonight fitful at best. I’m heading out for a run and some exercise. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Is everything okay?”

With a sagely nod he responded, “Yea, pretty sure. It’s just been an odd day to say the least.”

Concern entering her voice as well, Rarity spoke, “Are you sure everything is alright dear?”

With a shrug and a wave he turned back and began his way out the door. “Just don’t burn the place down or something while I’m away.”

With those parting words, he stopped for a moment at the end of the short driveway.  Bringing the small digital player to hand, he began sifting through the various playlists for a set that would ease his mind and motivate his body. After a few moments, he found a suitable list and began to jog in place. He let the first song flow through his mind, wiping the troubles away and energizing his stiff muscles. A quick jerk of his neck to either side relieved some of the stiffness and resounded in a loud crack that could be heard over the pounding music in his ears. With a satisfied smirk, he began to run.

The first song guided him around the block. The second lead him through a nearby park. The third brought him up a back trail that lead up a large hill. By song ten, he had arrived at a small playground at a relatively nearby elementary school.  With a smile he recalled a routine he once used often. With a nod to himself, he made his way onto the school’s property. At this point, he was no longer cognizant of how long he had been away from the house. His mind only acknowledged the music and movement. Old routines, long forgotten, had returned.

He jogged his way to the small playset and began doing a series of pull up exercises. Once his arms tired, he dropped to the ground and began doing situps with his back resting in the soft sand underneath the “monkey bars” he had been using .When his stomach began to cry for mercy, he lay on his back, rolled to the side and began a series of pushups. Using the tiny playground as a gym, he performed every exercise he could think of that required little more than his own body as a tool or weight. Once he was capable of no more, he began making his way in a seemingly random direction.

After several minutes, a small coffee shop came within sight. He came to a juddering halt. Once he had begun, he had hit a state of auto pilot. The place before him contained a host of memories. Many of them were painful. Many were beautiful. Some were even both. Having been lost in the old routine, he had never considered where he had been going. Nor had he thought at all about what he had been doing. His mind had been blank.

At the sight of the shop before him, all the errant thoughts and memories that he had fought so hard to keep at bay came rushing back. He was blinded to the present world that surrounded him. Old joys and deep pains wracked his consciousness. As the painful memories flooded his brain, he suddenly was overcome with a very real physical pain.

He collapsed to his knees at the first blow to the back of his head. The second blow was to his face, shattered his glasses and brought him to his back. The third was a sharp kick to his kidneys. Another equally sharp, but less forcefull kick hit his neck, snapping the headphones and killing the music. Now, stunned and bleeding, he lay on the cold concrete.

“How dare you show your face here?” his attacker spat out.

Another kick to his ribs.

“Answer me!”

Mike sad nothing, initially able only to gasp in pain.

“I said answer me you sick fuck!”

The man aimed another strike. Mike, now in the moment, caught the steel tipped boot in his hands and twisted it sharply to the side. A sickening crack echoed through the quiet street as the offending limb was dislocated. He shifted his grip to further up the individual’s pant leg and used it as leverage to haul him up from the pavement. As he did so, Mike made another retaliatory strike with his elbow at the attacker’s kneecap.

The force of the blow caused the joint to bend at an unnatural angle and the attacker to scream in pain and rage. After making contact, he reversed his strike and took out the other leg. He dragged the attacker down to his level. The aggressor struck out at Mike’s face as he came crashing to the earth. The blow was deflected by his forearm and instead made contact with the unforgiving concrete. With a twist of his lower body and another jerk of his arm, Mike rounded on his aggressor.

Mike straddled the, now beaten, individual that had attacked. The man beneath him struck out again in rage and pain. This blow was deflected in the same manner as the previous and received the same treatment as had the attacker’s legs. A blow from Mike’s offside limb snapped the joint in the center of the assailant’s arm causing it to bend in the wrong direction.

The man who had attacked him was now truly crippled. With a snarl, mike reached forward and grabbed a chain that was slung loosely around the other man’s neck. Bundling the steel around his closed fist, he pulled the man’s face inches from his own. Mike's voice when he began to speak was cold, calculated. His words had been rehearsed to the dark in the dead of the night, and he knew them well.

“I have no idea who the hell you are. I don’t much care. Allow me to illuminate the situation for you. Maybe you’re a cousin, maybe you’re the latest idiot boyfriend. I don’t fucking care. Allow me to make one thing clear to you. Whatever you think happened, didn’t. What happened two years ago will not happen again. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been training. Once the cops haul your ass outta whatever pit they throw you in, be it a hospital, cell, or both, I don’t care, deliver a message for me. This is my home. I’ve been here my entire life. I will not be driven away. Last time, I sought peace with you people. I’m sick of hiding in my own backyard. If you, or anyone else, decides to pull this shit again, I will fight back. I will destroy you without a second thought. If any one of you ever so much as looks at them funny ever again, there will be bodies in the ground before I’m done. There is no one, and no thing that will stand in my way. Are we clear?”

The man on the ground could only gasp in pain and fear at the pillar of rage that held him in his grasp.

“Good.”

With a deft move, Mike, reached into the man’s pockets and withdrew his would be attacker’s cell phone. Dropping the man unceremoniously to the ground, he flicked the phone open and dialed the emergency line. He began to pace back and forth as he spoke to the operator on the other end.

“Yes, My name is Michael Fontaine. I’m calling to report an aggravated assault. …… No ma’am.  I was just attacked with no provocation while out on a morning jog. ..…. “No, ma’am. I’m alright. I’ve had some martial arts training. With the situation as it was, I kicked the tar out of him.  ..… Yes, he is severely injured. ..… No, he is not moving.  …… I broke his ankle, shattered one kneecap, dislocated the other and did the same to both elbows when he continued to strike at me. He is conscious and breathing.  … Yes, we’re near the espresso shop off of third avenue. We are in full view of the store’s exterior cameras. …  Yes, I will remain on the scene until police and paramedics arrive. ….  Yes, ma’am I am aware that that is an arguably excessive amount of violence. I have reason to believe that the assault was in relation to the last report I’m mentioned in with your department. …. No ma’am, I do not know the case or report number. However, the date of the preceding…."

The conversation with emergency services went on that way for sometime. Even after Police and Paramedics arrived, he was allowed and encouraged to remain on the line while as many details as possible were related on the recorded line. When the conversation was completed, a short police questioning and a once over by the paramedics followed. After police questioned several witnesses from the coffee shop who verified Mike’s story he was released until further notice.

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Courtesy of getting lost in the music, as well as what Mike personally viewed as, “old business”, it was well after ten in the morning when he finally arrived back home.  With a groan, Mike limped up the stairs and sunk into the now empty couch, his mind completely oblivious to the absence of his guests. His last thoughts before he drifted into a painful sleep, were of the striking quiet that permeated his home.