Hail, Dawnbreaker.

Ryan jerked, flexing his muscles instinctively and slipping out of the bed and onto the floor.

“You okay, hon?” the feminine whisper sang above him, and he dragged himself to his feet.

“Shit. Yeah,” he rubbed his eyes viciously, grey spots dancing in his eyes. “Sorry, Tiff. Bad dream.”

“Again?” the redheaded woman asked blearily, pulling the sheets a little closer around herself. She blinked the sleep from her eyes, slowly putting her arms over his shoulders as he thought. “This is the third time this week, Rye-Pie. It’s not about… that again, is it?” Tiffany asked cautiously, and Ryan lightly held her fingertips in his own.

“No,” he croaked quickly. “It wasn’t that. It was – it was…”

What had it been about? The moment he tried to grab onto the memory of the strange dream, it fell away from him; it was like a barrier had been erected in front of him, one that he could not climb over or break through. Something he could have sworn that it was horribly important; Ryan clutched at his temples, the ache in his head growing as he more furiously tried to remember.

“It’s okay, hon,” Tiffany’s voice brought him back, and the headache eventually began going away as he forgot. “It probably wasn’t that important if you couldn’t remember it.”

“Yeah,” Ryan nodded in agreement, blissfully allowing her smooth hands to run over his skin when she hugged him from behind. “Must not have been that important.”

Tiffany gave him a tiny peck on the cheek, finally curling up again beneath the sheets after checking the alarm clock.

“I’m gonna get a little more sleep. You coming back to bed?”

Ryan nodded slowly, his head pounding. Maybe it would go away if he just went back to sleep.

And maybe if he went back to sleep, the weird dream would come back to him…

But even thinking about it made the dull headache grow, and he shook the thought from his mind.

Probably wasn’t very important.

It was such a perfect day.

Ryan gleefully let the wind run its ephemeral fingers through his hair as they sped down the road, the convertible roaring along the Brooklyn streets. Even the traffic seemed to part for him, and the bright sun overhead only made the day seem all the more cheery.

It was just pleasant.

A grin curled onto his face while music sang through the air, an oddly familiar and nostalgic song that he couldn’t quite place. Tiffany sang along to it as they turned along a corner, their destination drawing ever closer. It wasn’t like he was in a hurry though; Ryan just felt like the most leisurely man in the world. After all, why rush when there was no need to?

It seemed like all of his days were like this; all so relaxed, so simple. It was the perfect kind of life that he had worked so hard for, and early retirement was something that he relished.

“Thanks for listening to Tee-double-you-eye Light radio!” the station blared happily.

“Got the package?” Ryan glanced over at the redhead, clearly enjoying the speed that they were picking up as her hair flew gracefully behind her.

“Present’s in the back seat,” Tiffany beamed at him, revealing a row of perfect white teeth. “Timothy’s going to love it, I think.”

“Think? ‘Course he will,” Ryan’s smile grew as he pictured the child’s look of surprise when he received the birthday gift. Tim was going to be so thrilled at his surprise, Ryan just knew it. That, and Tiffany would doubtlessly think that he was amazing for thinking of getting the boy the gift in the first place, so everybody won!

“Up next, we’ve got the Beastie Boys for their anniversary,” the radio sang as they rounded the final turn, the hospital clearly in sight. “Afterwards on today’s schedule, we’ll be playing ‘This Is All A Dream’ and ‘Ryan Please Wake Up’, so don’t touch that dial!”

Ryan blinked suddenly, turning his gaze sharply to the radio as the music picked back up as if nothing had happened. A twinge in his head made him feel suddenly uncomfortable, and he scratched an itch on the back of his greasy head.

“Did you hear that?” he asked in mild confusion as they came to a halt in the parking lot, Ryan’s brow furrowing.

“Hear what, hon?” Tiffany asked, oblivious.

“… I dunno. Can’t remember.”

“Boom, bitches!” the grey tinted Ryan cackled, throwing his head back and laughing heartily as bright green flames burst from the ground at his command. Twilight reared back, shielding her face from the intense heat with her hoof and backing away in panic.

“He hurt Princess Luna!” Rainbow Dash shouted to the unicorn over the sound of the screaming ponies, each one struggling to find a way out of the suddenly encased palace room. “Hurry up and take him out!”

“Why, if I didn’t know any better,” Discord clicked his talons and appeared directly before them. “I’d say you hooligans were trying to crash the party.”

“Why?” Twilight yelled angrily at the grinning draconequus as her friends gathered cautiously behind her. “Why are you doing this?!”

“Why?” Discord held a paw to his chest. “The question should be ‘why not’, don’t you agree?”

He blew his nose loudly, bubbles with numerous holes floating haphazardly through the air as they streamed from one ear. Upon closer inspection, it was revealed that the oddly yellow bubbles were all actually made of… cheese?

“Come now, Twilight Sparkle,” Discord said poutily. “Why do you have to be such a party pooper?”

“This is an insult to parties!” Pinkie Pie stamped her hoof against the ground viciously.

“Come on!” Ryan screamed merrily as he brandished the jagged black sabre at the fleeing guests. “How come none of you little bitches wants ta’ fight me?”

Twilight took advantage of Discord’s momentary distraction of watching the cackling human, and blasted a violet bolt of energy at him from the tip of her horn. No sooner had she done so than she realized that the draconequus was standing beside her, leaning casually on her side and inspecting his talons.

She leapt backwards, Discord left leaning on air.

“Bleh, sun-butt just tried that same trick, like, thirty seconds ago,” Discord said boredly. “Some student you turned out to be, hmm?”

“You’ll never get away with this, Discord!” Twilight glowered at him, thinking swiftly.

“And this would be the point,” he bounced up into the air, where he stayed. “Where I say something cheesy and villain-y, like ‘oh, but I already have!’ and then laugh manically while I pet my cat.”

“Opal!” Rarity yelped as she watched the insane god pluck her cat from thin air, rubbing it’s back as it reclined in his mismatched arms.

“Actually, darling,” Discord sarcastically snapped his claws together, causing her pet to vanish. “I think that you’ll find it’s pronounced ‘cat’. Try harder.”

A blistering ball of emerald flame whizzed overhead, barely missing Twilight by a couple of inches. She dropped to the ground as Ryan cackled evilly, hurtling another lump of green flame from his left hand into the crowd of panicking ponies. They dispersed swiftly when he attacked, the chaos and confusion growing with the screaming.

“We have to stop Ryan!” Twilight took charge quickly, glaring at the calm draconequus. “Rarity, Applejack, cover the left! Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash, flank him!”

“Ooh, good plan!” Discord commentated as he floated overhead, putting his ‘hands’ beneath his chin and propping his lumpy head up, which had suddenly been decorated with multiple strange helmets. “What next, coach?”

Twilight shot a beam of purple energy from her horn, and Discord vanished the moment she did so before it could connect.

“One trick pony, aren’t you?” he asked from the floor linoleum, his figure flat against it. Twilight yapped and stomped the ground hard, the image of Discord reappearing instantaneously before her again. Was he impossible to hit?

She didn’t have the time to reply, as the form of a rampaging human stampeded into her from the side.

Twilight toppled over and rolled with the impact, barely managing to scrabble backwards in time to avoid being impaled by the jagged black sabre.

“Ryan, stop!”

“What?”

Ryan sat bolt upright in bed, clutching his temples. He could have sworn that he heard something.

“You okay, hon?” the feminine whisper sang above him, and he dragged himself to his feet.

“Shit. Yeah,” he rubbed his eyes viciously, grey spots dancing in his eyes. “Sorry, Tiff. Bad dream.”

“Again?” the redheaded woman asked blearily, pulling the sheets a little closer around herself.

Ryan opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again. He felt the strangest sense of déjà vu, and shook his head slowly. The strange dream slipped further away from him when he tried to remember, the headache growing again.

“Can’t-can’t seem to…”

No. No, he couldn’t let go of it; Ryan had a niggling feeling that it was important. That maybe, just maybe, if he could close his eyes tight enough and fight through the growing migraine, that he could remember…

After several long minutes had passed, Ryan opened his eyes to a nearly completely grey vision. He rubbed his eyes again, blinking the illusion away. It took him a moment to realize that he had been completely silent, his palms pressed against his eyelids as Tiffany stared at him.

“Come back to bed, babe,” she said soothingly, and Ryan nodded slowly. Sleep was what he needed. Just sleep it off, go back to being happy. It was probably a stupid dream.

“Yeah, dreams are stupid.”

Ryan jerked in shock at the sound of his own voice. Particularly because he hadn’t even spoken.

His head whipped to the side so fast that his vision blurred momentarily, but the figure sitting on a wooden stool beside the bed was unmistakable. Just sitting there reclining against the wall, completely nonchalantly, was Ryan Miller.

“What the fuck?” Ryan gaped at his doppelganger, too stunned to move.

“Forty-six.”

“… What?” Ryan gawked, rubbing his eyes hard again to see if the illusion would vanish. However, the identical Ryan sat comfortably against the wall, legs sprawled out before him as he sat with his arms tucked neatly behind his head.

“That’s how many times you’ve said that,” the identical Ryan said cheerfully, and he noted just how eerie it was watching him talk. It was his voice, coming from his mouth. “Forty-six! Not like you remember, of course. They never do.”

Ryan slowly reached back for Tiffany protectively, his heart pounding when he discovered that she was no longer there.

“What’s going on?” he panicked, reaching for the crowbar that he kept beneath the bed.

“Ninety-two.”

“I swear to god, I’ll fucking break your legs if you don’t tell me what’s happening!” Ryan brandished the crowbar at his tranquil double.

“Four hundred and thirty-three.”

“Hon?”

“What?”

Ryan sat bolt upright in bed, throwing the covers off. He was coated in a cold sweat, and couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he sat up.

“You okay babe?”

“Yeah,” he groaned groggily. “… No.”

“No?” Clara asked curiously, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“No.” he insisted, pushing her away. However, her grip was stronger than his will, and she held him firmly. “No. Something’s-something’s wrong.”

“What is it, Ryan?” she asked sweetly.

“Yeah, Rye-Pie!” his own voice greeted him, causing him to jump. “Whassa matter? Pony got your tongue?”

Ryan swore viciously, the doppelganger standing expectantly before him.

“You again?”

“Again?” the identical Ryan asked gleefully. “You mean you’re losing it already?”

“Who are you talking to, Ryan?” Clara asked, and Ryan didn’t turn to look at her.

“Not in the mood for games, asshole,” he glared at his twin, struggling to peel Clara’s hands from him. Her grip had mysteriously become so much stronger, and her fingernails were digging into his flesh. “Don’t make me fuck you up.”

“Ooh, always mister tough guy,” the opposite Ryan rolled his beady black eyes. “Why don’t you try taking a couple more swings?”

Ryan started upward to punch his doppelganger until he started making sense, which seemed like the most logical solution to him. However, he found that Clara’s iron grip kept him firmly in place, regardless of how he struggled-

“Oh, god.”

Ryan froze suddenly, staring at his double. The identical twin with the odd, expectant stare. The look he received was one that a parent might watching a toddler trying and failing to walk for the first time – careful, gauging, always waiting for the eventual success.

“Oh, god…!” Ryan’s skin prickled in horror as he remembered – and he did remember. “Where’s...? No, Clara!” he strained to pry her icy grip from his midriff. “Clara’s dead – she’s dead!”

“Why didn’t you save me, Ryan?” her screechy voice grated into his ear as the scent of decay assaulted his nostrils, and Ryan screamed in terror as he tried desperately to escape from her grasp. He flailed desperately as he was forced to turn to face her, the skin rotting off of her face and her flesh falling away in neat cubes.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU SAVE ME?”

“Jesus Christ!”

Ryan sat bolt upright in bed, clutching desperately at the sheets.

He was shaking violently, eyes wide in the dark.

“You okay, hon?”

His eyes darted down to the sleepy redhead, his heart pounding so loud that he almost didn’t hear Tiffany’s voice. Ryan scanned the room swiftly, eyes shooting back and forth in panic to search for the twin, the rotting woman –

“It was just another bad dream, Rye-Pie,” Tiffany put a cool hand on his forearm tenderly. “It’s okay, hon. Come on back to bed.”

After a couple of moments of heavy breathing, Ryan nodded quietly.

“Y-yeah,” he said shakily. “Just-just a bad dr- no. No, no, no no."

"A bad dream?"

"This isn't real," Ryan stood shakily, the floor beginning to twist and turn. "This isn't real!"

"Fuckin' hell," an identical Ryan slouched from the ceiling, smoking a cigarette as the smoke floated downward on an unseen breeze. "You're slower than I remember. If you don't hurry up, we're both going to die in here."

Author's Notes:

Hot damn, I haven't updated in an entire month.
Uh...

My bad...?