For the fifth time in the past two days, Bait set out to destroy the machine salvaged from the ruins of the Nursery.

For the fifth time in the past two days, he wound up staring at it while wondering how long he could hold out before he inevitably went for the bottle of booze in the pantry. Of course, ponies knew that stuff as “cooking sherry,” most didn’t know what that kind of sugar did to changelings, especially since the small amounts used in cooking usually didn’t do anything. At least, most ponies used small amounts.

Pinkie didn’t.

He got up. Paced from one wall to the other. At the back of the pantry laid two discarded bottles from the previous day, and damn if it didn’t look like he’d be guzzling two more.

He paced back, turned, paced, growled, snapped at the air, turned back to the ruins of the robot, hissed, and turned back to the door. Something ignited in his chest. “This is all your damn fault, you know?” He whispered to himself. Hot tears dribbled down his cheeks, staining them a low fuchsia. “All your own fuckin’ fault. An Element Bearer, what were you thinking!?”

He paced, turned a corner. “What, that she wasn’t playing you? That she cared about some no-name soldier for the enemy? Stupid. So damn stupid. She even said it herself!”

He turned again, this time a hind leg lashed out to buck the wall, earning a scratch in the crystal and a ringing sensation of pain up to his flank. “AHHHHHH, just two consenting adults she said! She practically screamed she wasn’t interested, and…and I still…”

He sniffled. His head sank. The tears changed to lime-green.

Time to find that extra bottle of sherry.

He turned back to the machine. “I’ll get to ya later,” he grumbled, wiping the tears off his cheeks and reaching to one of the shelves. He had just gotten his hooves around the neck of the bottle when there was a knock at the door.

Grumbling, he trudged out of the pantry and threw it open. “What?” He spat.

A Praetorian stood there, gazing at him unimpressed. “Your interrogation is today.”

It took a few minutes for the cogs in Bait’s head to switch to a higher gear and form a response. “The…prisoner? The one captured from the other night?”

“Indeed.” The Praetorian’s nostrils flared and he sniffed, though he instantly regretted it based on the way his mouth twitched. Of course, that could also have been thanks to his gaze finally finding the bottle in Bait’s hoof. “Of course, this can be delayed if you wish to handle some…personal hygiene first.”

Bait tilted his head at the odd statement at first, then it clicked. “Ah…no thanks, I’d rather just get going. I still gotta get my partner.”

“Your…partner?”

“Well, he is the only other guy who’s part of my team, right?” Bait waved the larger stallion off. “Just gimme a second here.”

The Praetorian’s muzzle gave another twinge of distaste, but he nodded. Bait just grinned and saluted before turning away to replace the bottle. This guy really thought he was hot shit, but really, you just had to know how to handle them. Of course, Bait thought he knew that already the night one of them rammed a dagger into his shoulder.

Thought he knew that much about Pinkie, too.

Shaking his head, Bait ducked inside to set the bottle back where he’d found it, taking a few cursory sniffs of the chitin under his forelegs. His muzzle wrinkled. Okay, maybe he did have time for a shower.

Later, though. Right now, it was about time he got in touch with his nearest and dearest friend.

Fluttershy had tried to kill the hatchlings.

Well, maybe not her personally, but would it really make it any better if she’d done nothing except weakly protest as her friends set fire to the nursery?

Switch bit his lip until neon green blood oozed out around his fangs. He didn’t know. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know: whether she’d actively helped fan the flames, or if she just sat in the corner with little more than meek protests as her friends hurried her away.

His bite grew harder, tighter on his lip. He still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the picture of Fluttershy being involved with something so heinous, but damn if that picture didn’t seem at least a little convincing. In fact, didn’t it make sense that she might have been communicating with her friends somehow? And that was how they’d even busted in? Could it be her affection for changeling young had just been a trick to make sure she was around the nursery all the time, and therefore easier to find?

Was everything he thought he knew about the pegasus a lie?

Warm smile next to him on the bench, telling him it would all be okay, a hoof wrapping around his. A mare you could absolutely see yourself spending the rest of your life with, if only to see that smile every day…

“Mister?”

Switch snapped to attention, hooves flailing. He gazed down at the tiny foal at his hooves, the smaller changeling tilting their head at him. “Jason…” he gasped, thumping his chest once or twice. “Shoulda known.”

“Mister Switch? Are you hurt?”

He cocked his head at the foal. “What makes you ask?”

“You’re cryin’. And you got blood on you.”

“Oh…” Switch casually wiped at the blood on his lip, then at the tears he hadn’t realized had been streaking down his cheeks. “Naw kid, I’m good. Just thinking about something sad.”

“Izzit about Miss Fluttershy?”

Switch swallowed a lump the size of the Crystal Palace before answering: “What makes you ask?”

“’Cuz we miss her too,” Jason said, his ears folding down. Switch blinked, finally looking over the playroom he’d found himself in for the evening. In place of the usual foals running around and messing with stolen pony toys, he was surrounded by a bunch of foals barely moving. In one corner, a pair of colts lazily rolled a ball between them. A filly laid on her back in the middle of the floor, face up and hooves spread out as a ladybug skittered along her shell. The majority of the foals had taken up one wall, simply leaning against it while playing half-hearted games of Simon Says and Twenty Questions that seemed to end just as they began.

Switch sat up, blinking in awe. Was he really so oblivious he hadn’t noticed that most of the foals were ready to break down in tears? “What’s going on, Jase?” He gasped.

“We just…kinda miss Miss Fluttershy,” the foal said, rubbing one hoof over the other. “The big guards that came in said we weren’t gonna be seeing her again. We know she did something bad, but ponies do bad stuff all the time, right? How come we can’t see her again just for one bad thing?”

Switch heaved in a long breath. “Jason, it was—“ he looked at the foal’s overlarge eyes locked on him, then let out another sigh. “It’s complicated grown-up stuff, okay? I’m sure Miss Fluttershy misses you very much, but as of right now it’s so complicated the Queen has decided it’d be better if we just kept her away from other changelings for a little while. You don’t wanna question Queen Chrysalis, do you?”

That did it. Invoking Chrysalis usually got foals to back down, and this time was no exception. Jason frowned, wrinkled up his muzzle in defiance, but eventually just grumbled, “No…”

“Attaboy,” Switch said with a thin smile. “We’ll sort this all out, you go ahead and play with your friends, alright? They look like they could use some cheering up.”

“I guess.” Jason sighed, trudging off.

Switch sat up, stretched himself, grimaced when a muscle in his back seized up from how long he’d been sitting in that one place. Chrysalis, he could use a walk--

There was a knock at the door.

Arching an eyebrow, he waved the nymphs back and walked over to answer it. “This is the playpen, you better have a good reason for—oh.”

Bait stared up at him with a sheepish smile. Behind him was a Praetorian looking off in the distance with an empty, bored expression. “Hey...pal...” Bait said.

“Uh...hey.” Switch replied, looking around like he wanted so desperately to be anywhere else. The Praetorian didn’t even look at him. He sighed, looked to his friend. “I’m sorry, did you just come to hang out? I mean, I’d like that, but you know there’s not supposed to be anyone in the play area besides--”

“No, no, I just...you remember the special action team I had, right?” Bait flashed that fake, pasted-on grin. “For...the trafficking ring?”

Switch blinked, then sucked in a breath. A foreleg covered his face. “That interrogation was today, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah...” Bait’s smile waned as he kicked at one of the tiles. “Look, if you’re busy...”

“It’s not that, I need to just...” Switch sighed and turned to the Praetorian. “Can ya watch the foals?”

The Praetorian looked shocked, stunned even. “I...uh...what?”

“I can’t leave this place without a guardian, there needs to be a stallion in here at all times, 24/7, especially after what happened with Flutt--” he paused, cleared his throat, “--what happened with the previous caretaker.”

“But...I...” the Praetorian looked back and forth, obviously trying to think of some excuse. Jeez, nymphsitting wasn’t that bad, was it? “I’m supposed to escort the special-action team members around!”

“S’alright,” Bait replied. “We’ve got this. If anything, you’ll be serving a better purpose here.”

“But...I...” the stallion’s eyes darted around, but finally, he let out a long, resigned sigh. “Of course, sirs. Of course.”

The Praetorian trotted past Switch, shooting a look at the pair that could curdle milk. “Good luck on your investigation, sirs,” he grumbled before slamming the door hard enough to nearly spank Switch’s flank.

“Jeez, must not like kids,” he muttered, scoffing.

“Guess so,” Bait shrugged, already trotting off down the hallway.

Switch easily caught up with his longer stride, looking around, eyes resting everywhere but on Bait. “So...” he said. “How you been holding up?”

“In the kitchen, surrounded by booze?” Bait grimaced. “Pretty much about as well as you’d think.”

“Shit man, you haven’t been...drinking this entire time, have you?”

“No, I got lucid moments,” Bait sighed, eyes going to the stained glass lining the hallways, now totally covered in slime. “On occasion...just until I try to destroy that damn robot.”

“Destroy it? Weren’t you supposed to study it?”

“Nothing to study. Pulleys, cannons, and ropes, assembled together right under my nose.” Bait shook his head. “It should be easy. Hell, the fire did half the job for me.”

“But it’s not. Easy, I mean.”

“No.”

“And you know why.”

A long pause. Bait still didn’t turn to face his friend. “Yes.”

Silence.

“Well, you doin’ any better?” Bait asked finally.

“Only because I don’t have easy access to booze,” Switch chuckled. “And it helps I have a reason to try to keep a straight face. For the nymphs.”

“Chrysalis above, the nymphs. That can’t be easy.”

“It’s not.”

“They miss her?”

“Yeah.”

A few more moments of nothing but their hooves on the tile. “They miss her as much as you?”

“Probably not.”

More trotting along.

“I thought--” Switch finally said, breaking the silence. His breath hitched. He sniffled. “Goddammit, not again.”

“I know,” Bait finally turned around, revealing the teal tears trailing down his cheeks. “Look, we just gotta keep up a good facade for this, okay? Nobody’s gonna confess to a couple pussies whimpering about the mares what broke their hearts.”

“I know,” Switch sniffed, sighed, shook his head, and straightened up. “I know.”