“… Ryan, that’s insane.”

“Yeah, well… that’s what happened.” He shrugged at Twilight, which was easier for him now that he was at least half clothed. He’d really have preferred to have his shirt back, as well, but he’d pulled his wound back open in all his flailing. There was now a jagged rip along his back, running from his right hip all the way to his left shoulder blade. It would leave a wicked scar, no doubt; directly over the tattoo of the shark’s maw, almost as if attempting to cancel it out.

“How could you have been knocked all the way to Ponyville?” she asked, dumbfounded. As it turned out, they’d spent hours searching the woods nearby, but to no avail. Rainbow Dash had gone flying into town to find backup when she discovered a very angry, very talkative, very drunk Berry Punch, loudly proclaiming to all who would listen about how the entire universe was out to get her.

“Uh… it was a pretty big dragon.” Ryan said flippantly. It was indeed a very large sized lizard.

“By all rights, you should be dead,” Twilight said seriously, giving him a level look. Even Applejack looked a little nervous. He was beginning to realize that Bon-Bon’s house was a little too small to fit everybody comfortably. “Look. There’s simply no way that anything of your mass, let alone durability (or lack thereof) should possibly survive what would’ve killed just about anything else outright!”

“Ah’m thinkin’ she’s got a point there, sugarcube,” the orange pony said lowly. “Ah mean, you looked kinda all banged up, even ‘fore you got a good kick in the head.”

“Actually, now that you mention it,” Rarity interrupted, stepping forward. “you were practically covered in nicks and cuts the last time I saw you without clothes.” The light blue unicorn flushed slightly at this, but if any of the others noticed, they said nothing. “I measured every cubic centimeter of your body, and let me tell you, I know when there are changes to it. Oh, you’ve got plenty of scrapes and bruises, all right…” Rarity trailed off, and Twilight picked up for her.

“But none of them are ever in the same place. Care to explain how they seem to keep moving around?”

Tell her, a benevolent benefactor belied borderline death sentences.

“A benedict bun factor betrayed busty dell knickers.”

Ryan could swear he heard a quiet facepalm somewhere.

“… What?” Twilight asked, confused.

“Uh…” Ryan stuttered. “There’s somebody out there that really wants me to stay alive.”

“Oh,” Twilight said, satisfied at the answer. After a moment, she shook her head, eyes wide with shock. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, he’s usin’ some mojo shit to keep me alive.”

“Who?”

“D-“

Don’t say my name! Ryan heard, and he froze. None of the others seemed to hear it, though.

Why not?

Suspense, dear boy! Suspense! Make something up; you’re a good liar.

He didn’t like it, but he went along with the idea. Especially considering the fact that Discord had apparently saved his ass, yet again, the strange being probably considered it the least he could do.

“Didn’t say,” Ryan finished lamely, realizing that he’d been holding his breath at a bunch of staring, silent ponies.

“… Ryan, you’re a terrible liar.” Twilight said, deadpanning.

Pinkie Pie was oddly quiet, he noted. She was normally so insanely talkative, and sometimes outright obnoxious. She looked a little worried about something, and her tail kept twitching at odd intervals.

“Look, he doesn’t want me to say just yet. But if he’s pulled my ass out of the fire this many times, he can’t be all bad, right?”

The poor, poor bastard.

Twilight didn’t like the thought of some being that she didn’t know the name of working magic that she couldn’t keep track of, but since it bothered Twilight that badly, it only made Ryan more insistent on not pressing the matter. He’d slowly grown more and more distrustful of the unicorn, although whether it was because of the fact that she never seemed to look him in the eye when he asked her about getting home, or just because she was a unicorn and used magic by nature he didn’t know.

Speaking of unicorns…

Twilight had demanded that he remain at the house he was already in for a while, at least until his wounds healed up a little more. True, he should be dead from the massive beating his poor body had taken over the course of the past few weeks. Then again, he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He found it supremely unfair whenever he tried to sit up, and found that he couldn’t due to the injury on his back.

Not to say that he couldn’t move if he wanted to; but it was almost guaranteed to rip open that back scar again. Also, one of his legs seemed to have a couple of torn ligaments, and although it hurt like hell, so long as he didn’t move his right leg too often he’d be fine. Before too long, everyone else had left to carry on their business, leaving Ryan with the cerulean unicorn with a white streak in her hair.

Fluttershy had been the last to leave, cantering up to him and giving him a small nuzzle goodbye before she left to take care of some animals she’d allowed into her cottage/tree/thing. He would’ve guessed she felt a little guilty about letting him get so torn up by the dragon.

Hm. He could use that…

He briefly wondered if that had been the reason Rainbow Dash and Pinkie had been so quiet, too.

More fuel for the flames, he thought to himself gleefully. He’d have rubbed his hands together, but to his dismay, he remembered that he couldn’t. He was about to shoot off some crude remark about the lack of competence of leaving a handcuffed dragon victim to an empty room, before he realized that the light blue unicorn was still there.

He blinked, staring at her. She stared right back, sitting oddly in a chair across from him. It took him a moment to realize why she looked so strange as she sat, before he realized that this was probably the first time he’d ever seen a pony sit like a normal human being. He vaguely wondered just how long she’d been staring at him.

“You, uh… you gonna let me out of these…?” he asked gruffly, lifting his cuffed hand gingerly. Ryan hated handcuffs.

“Hm? O-oh! Yes, of course!” she said distractedly. “I-I’m sorry, I suppose I just got so caught up in the excitement, I, um…”

“Forgot the bleeding guy handcuffed to a fuckin’ couch.” Ryan said bluntly, glaring at her.

“I’m sorry! I really am; I just…” she said as she dug around through the drawers of a nearby desk, looking around beneath tables and through different rooms. “I don’t know where Bon-Bon keeps the keys…”

“What do you even need ‘cuffs for in the first place?” Ryan asked, furrowing his brows.

She immediately flushed a deep shade of pink, and he guessed almost immediately.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“I’ll find those keys, I’ll find them!” she said a little too loudly, brusquely tossing about random objects from the drawers as she did her best not to look embarrassed. After about ten minutes of solid searching, she began to re-search the room Ryan was currently in. A thought struck him, and he felt a little stupid for not asking it before.

“Hey.”

“Um, Lyra.” She said sheepishly.

Hail, Dawnbreaker.

He shoved the thought out of his head immediately. It made him undecidedly nervous.

“Lyra. Great. I’m Ryan.” He said, extending a hand. She took it in her hooves gingerly, staring at his much larger hand like it was a gift from above.

“Ryan,” she said, rolling the word around in her mouth absentmindedly, still preoccupied with gazing at his hand as she slowly rolled it over and felt it tenderly. Her hoof brushed one of his older scars. That was another thing he noticed; none of his older scars ever seemed to heal, only the one’s he’d developed since he arrived in Equestria. He didn’t know if that was useful information or not, but he mentally tucked it away for later.

“Look. Uh, Lyra.” He said, freeing his one hand from her grasp and slowly tilting her head up to meet his eyes. He hadn’t noticed before just how brilliantly honey colored they were; almost too bright. He liked the color. His hand slowly wound its way up the side of her face, so as to avoid any sudden movements. She was already rattled as it was, and he’d had his experiences with spooked animals, thinking that ponies must share some of the same features. His fingers danced lightly up her cheek, feeling that they were steadily growing hotter, and slowly grazing the horn atop her head.

“… You’re a fuckin’ unicorn.”

“Huh?” she sputtered, not realizing that she’d stopped breathing.

“Yew-nih-corn.” Ryan pronounced slowly. “You got that magic shit, right? So what do you need keys for?”

Lyra stared directly into his eyes for a full beat, before her hoof hit her face in exasperation. He was right, of course; she hated getting flustered. It kept her from thinking straight.

“Right, right,” she said, wiping her brow. She’d suddenly begun sweating uncomfortably. After a couple seconds of concentration, her horn glowed with a soft blue light, and he felt the cuff on his wrist open with a little snap. Ryan grabbed his wrist, rubbing it tenderly.

“It’s about fuckin’ time,” he grumbled, trying to make himself more comfortable on the sofa without hurting himself further.

“I-I’m sorry…” Lyra stammered. Upon seeing him try to move, she promptly said “Here, let me help.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no,” he said, holding up a hand just in time to stop her from assisting him. “The last time you tried ‘helping’, I wound up gettin’ straddled.”

“I’m… I’m sorry…” she said mournfully, her head dropping.

… Aw, fuck.

“Christ,” he muttered. “I swear to God, you little shits send me on so many guilt trips, I oughta be getting’ frequent flier miles by now.” he stared at her for a moment, and she really did look regretful. He sighed heavily, seeing no change in her.

“… Ya know, it’s a real pain in the ass, tryin’ to move without my back rippin’ open. I could probably use some help.” He said slowly.

Her eyes widened hopefully, and that little gleam came back into them. She happily helped him move, though it took longer than he would’ve liked. He grumbled unhappily, thinking.

“… Hey, can’t you fix this?” he asked the air, awaiting an answer from Discord. When none came, he realized that Lyra was staring at him strangely.

“… Oh, uh… I was contacting the Mother Ship.”

She nodded, before her jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”

“It’s a joke. Ya know… ha ha?” Ryan said.

“Oh, right,” she grinned, rubbing the back of her head with her hoof. “Ha, ha. Yeah.” Lyra said self-consciously. She smiled softly, reclaiming her place in the chair a bit pensively.

Maybe it was just Lyra in particular, or maybe it was all the time he’d spent in Equestria. Either way, it disturbed him just how much she seemed… human. Weirdly enough, that thought was also a little comforting. The ponies were fine, and all; but he missed human company. He missed not looking down on everyone, even though due to his height he usually did that anyway.

He missed his family.

Or, at least, what was left of it.

If they were even still alive.

It was all that ‘Doctor’ guy’s fault… it had to have been, Ryan was convinced of it. Ryan was already on his way to his cousins when he got the message from the younger of the twins, Donald. It merely asked him to look behind his bookcase.

What followed was an enormous clusterfuck of logic, involving dimensional jumping, a phone booth that was larger on the inside, the afterlife, time jumps, and some kind of souped-up alien parasite with a vendetta about a jillion years old.

No, his cousins needed him now, more than ever. It almost made the physical wounds preferable to the ones he felt, knowing that there was nothing he could do to help them. Ryan hated feeling helpless.

Ryan hated feeling helpless.

How Clara even talked him into it was a surprise; but, then again, Ryan had a particular weakness for whipped cream.

Especially when it was used as a form of clothing.

She’d handcuffed his hand to the bedpost, and clambered atop him. For some reason, his side twinged uncomfortably, and it was bothering him more and more.

“Clara, I don’t think this was a good idea-“

She shushed him, roughly placing a single finger over his mouth. “Oh, what’s the matter? Just a little afraid of not being the one with all the power?”

That should have tipped him off immediately. He’d curse himself later for not figuring it out. His side twinged again, more painfully than last time. His left side was beginning to hurt, which he attributed to the handcuffs.

He was beginning to hate handcuffs.

“No, that’s not it, I just-“

“Well, aren’t you excited?” she asked, clutching his hair.

“Agh! Christ, Clara, that hurt! What are you, c-“ he cut himself off, refusing to call her crazy. Sure, she might be a ‘little’ off, but that didn’t mean she was full blown psycho… right?

“Oh, Ry-Pie,” she said, and his left side began convulsing slightly. “when will you learn? It’s always more fun if there’s a little pain; haven’t you almost died before?”

“Yeah, but-“

“And you remember the thrill you felt when you got to live?”

Oh, he did NOT like where this was going. He promptly suspected that the whipped cream might not have been ‘all natural’, after all.

“Cl-Clara, I… I can’t…!”

“What?” she asked mockingly, her face twisting into a cruel leer. “Can’t feel your left side? Can’t breathe so well?” she held up a little vial, showing it to him. “Well, I hope you like excitement Ry-Pie. I hope you like living, Ry-Pie. Because if you do, you’re going to fucking work for the antidote.”

That helpless feeling. Oh, how he hated it. Almost as much as he hated having his trust betrayed.

If only he could reach that phone… maybe he’d have a chance.

Ryan awoke to the sound of an EKG machine.

“Wassup, amigo?”

“Shit!” Ryan lurched, hitting the bar on the side of the hospital bed. The crisp, white sheets rustled as Ryan shifted, eyes darting about in panic.

“Whoa, chill,” Carlos Caesar said, crossing his arms. Ryan’s breathing slowly panned out, and he balled his left hand up into a fist. It was good to know he could still feel it.

“… What happened?” Ryan asked.

Carlos never smiled at him. Carlos never showed any kind of emotion, for any reason.

Ever.

He started collecting an awful lot of good reasons to never trust Carlos.

Ryan sometimes wondered if Carlos could even feel; they’d known each other for years now, but he’d never even seen him bat an eye. It was like he was always staring. Always watching.

“You tried calling the cops when your psycho-bitch girlfriend poisoned you. You, of all people, calling the police for help. Funnily ironic, isn’t it?” he said mirthlessly, always keeping his blank face.

“Clara? Is she... here?” Ryan asked nervously, looking around as if Carlos might be hiding her behind him.

“No. No, I’ve already… taken care of your problem.” Carlos said matter-of-factly as he left, and Ryan felt the pit of his stomach drop.

Ryan knew exactly how Carlos tended to take care of problems.

He didn’t want to think about it, but he already knew what he’d find when he left the hospital.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing at all.

That was what Carlos did, it was how he operated; he never left any traces, he never left a mess. And if the rumors were true about the ‘arguments’ between Carlos and his boss Victor, then one of them was likely to be ‘solved’ before long, too.

And when it happened, Ryan was pretty certain Carlos was going to walk out of the building with one less problem.

“… What were their names?”

“Whuzzat?” Ryan asked blearily. His eyes opened and closed a few times. He’d hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep. He stretched groggily, before a searing hot pain shot jaggedly across his back. Ryan cried out in agony, freezing up.

“Whoa, it’s okay,” Lyra said soothingly as she carefully maneuvered him. She held a damp, cold cloth telekinetically, and used her two front hooves to gently help him lie back down. “You’re going to be fine. Just stop moving, already.”

The pain in his back felt like it took forever to fade, though it eventually began to go away. He hadn’t realized just how tightly his jaw had been clenched to keep himself from shouting, and he slowly relaxed his muscles. His back still hurt like hell, though. To top it off, it felt like he’d aggravated his right leg, as well.

It was silent for a little while. Lyra resumed using the damp cloth to lightly pat down his forehead, wiping up any sweat that collected there. He was beginning to wonder if he had a fever, or had contracted some illness from any of those dragon wounds.

“You’re fine,” Lyra reiterated, as if reading his mind. “you just looked like… you were in a really bad place.” She said softly, looking down at him as he looked up. The result was… strange, to say the least. If he thought that ponies looked weird right side up, then they were doubly so upside down.

“… What did you ask?” he grumbled, weakly trying to shove her away. He gave up after a couple tries, though, and allowed her to continue.

“Hm? Oh. You… just looked really worried about somepony.” Lyra said. “You kept groaning things like, ‘gotta get back’, and ‘are they safe?’ and ‘I never should have gotten tattoos while drunk’, and-“

“I got it, I got it.” Ryan cut her off.

“By the way, who’s Juanita?”

“A bad decision on my part,” he groaned. Christ almighty, were there any inhabitants in Ponyville that hadn’t yet seen his ass?

She fell silent after a while, simply resuming her soft brushing with the cloth. He hadn’t realized before just how late in the afternoon it had become.

A few minutes of quiet later, Ryan spoke.

“Miller.”

“Hm?” she looked at him curiously.

“Miller. It’s my last name, and my cousins. They’re twins. Had a birthday not too long ago; I think they’re sixteen this year. Donald. Donald and Danielle. They’re good kids. I visit every couple of weeks, make sure they’re okay, but it’s hard on ‘em since their mom died and my uncle went AWOL. They need whatever money they can get, and I get ‘em whatever I can.”

Lyra blinked at him. She really hadn’t expected this sudden burst of information. Ryan was a little surprised at himself, as well. For as long as he’d been in Equestria, he’d never spilled his heart out like this before.

“I gotta get back to them, I have to. I’m all they got left. Hell, I don’t even know how I’m going to get home. I’m just… I’m worried, is all.”

“… I understand.” Lyra said almost noiselessly, sighing as she sat down on the sofa next to him. He sounded so... tired. Unexpectedly, she took his hand in her hooves and held onto it, like it was a butterfly she didn’t want to fly away. “I know what it’s like to worry about somepony else, how much it hurts if you can’t be there for them…”

“I know what it’s like to… lose somepony you care about.” She finished softly. She looked crestfallen, but then she did something Ryan didn’t expect once again.

“Bon-Bon helped me, when I had nopony else. She helped me, even when I’d start ranting on about hands because nopony else would listen to me anymore. She helped me, even though I didn’t deserve the trust and friendship she extended to me. Even when I’d already lost nearly everything, and still couldn’t make enough money to really help, Bon-Bon helped me. Not just because she’s a friend,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. “I never trusted anypony else, really. And that’s why I kept losing everything; only trusting myself, never opening up. You’re doing the exact same thing, and I can see it.”

Ryan wanted to speak, to say something, but he couldn’t seem to find anything to say.

“Those ponies, that spent hours upon hours searching the Everfree Forest for you? Why do you think they did that?” she asked him.

He thought for a moment, and replied “Because they wanted their stuff back. Duh. I had, like, three of their packs on me.”

She stared at him for almost a full minute, in a near squint. “… Do you really believe that?”

“What?”

“… Sweet Celestia, Twilight was right. You really are as dense as you are clueless.”

“… What?”

Lyra facehoofed, as if he’d just said something unbearably stupid. “They weren’t looking for their stupid saddlebags, they were looking for you, you… you big, stupid ape!”

“… Oh.” And that was all Ryan managed to muster.

“They spent all that time looking for you,” she went on, shaking him roughly. “they tried everything they could to find you, because they care about you. You don’t think Twilight spent hours and hours on end, studying every kind of healing spell she could get her hooves on, every time you got cut up?”

Ryan blanched, but Lyra ranted on. “Oh, yeah. She made damned sure she was right there, by your side, every time you got hurt! And you want to know why?”

Ryan got the feeling that he knew what the answer was going to be. Instead, Lyra surprised him once again.

And not the pleasant ‘Pinkie brought extra cake’ surprise.

“… She cries at night, you know.”

He was thankful that she eventually stopped, as she had finally seen just how much she hurt him. It felt like he had something stuck in his throat.

Huh. I don’t remember eating golf balls.

Lyra watched him carefully, biting her lower lip. She hadn’t meant to be that brunt about it. “Look,” she said, trying to change the subject. “you might have fantastical anatomy, sure. But Twilight’s still… a good kid. I don’t want to see her get hurt any more than I do you, but if it comes down to it…” she left it hanging.

“… She’s a capable, competent young adult, you know.” Ryan said huskily.

“… Did Twilight tell you to say that?” she asked.

“… Yes.”

Lyra giggled a little, and Ryan gave a weak grin. The sad look crept back onto her face before too long, though.

After yet another long stretch of uncomfortable silence, Ryan cleared his throat. It was a little difficult speaking; he couldn’t remember the last time he had water.

Oh, yeah. It was right before I got bitchslapped by a pony Geico sponsor.

“… Do you still have a hard time?”

Lyra blinked, looking down at him.

“Trusting others, I mean. Is it really that hard for you?”

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, but nothing came out. A light pink slowly rose in her cheeks, and she gradually nodded contemplatively.

This time, it was Ryan’s turn to surprise her.

He slowly wound his arms around her neck, giving her a hug.

Lyra wasn’t sure what flabbergasted her more. The fact that he’d given her a hug, or that she’d actually hugged him back.

And when they finally fell asleep, they stayed in each other’s arms, just like that.

Bon-Bon was having a hell of a day.

She’d worked her tail off, but her hard work had finally come to fruition; she’d sold every single confectionary she made that day, and even came home with a couple of extra bits that generous patrons had tipped.

She sighed heavily as she opened the door to her home, finding all the lights out.

Lyra probably forgot to turn any of them on again, Bon-Bon thought to herself. Lyra usually stayed up until Bon-Bon returned whenever she worked late, although she should’ve expected as much. The girl could be forgetful at times, and judging from the lack of lights, she’d say Lyra must’ve had a busy day.

Over the years, they’d grown to know each other fairly well.

That was the thought running happily through a tired but satisfied Bon-Bon’s mind as she carefully lit a lamp in the living room.

Which was promptly ruined by an extensively loud “WHAT THE BUCK, LYRA!?”

Author's Notes:

Since a couple of people have personally asked me (instead of JUST POSTING A COMMENT, so that multiple people wouldn't have to message,) if Ryan's memories are in the right order, because they seem a little jumbled.
That's because they ARE jumbled. I mean, seriously, who experiences memories in chronological order?
Nobody, that's who.

I'm just insisting on a bit of realism in my fic.
Granted, asking for realism in a fic about anthropomorphic ponies seems like a bit much to ask for, but I digress.