“Good morning, Canterlot!” says DJ-Pon3 enthusiastically over the radio. “Today is going to be a busy day, busy-busy day. Especially for me since I got all kinds of mail asking me all kinds of stuff. Stuff like Captain Shining Armor Sparkle getting trashed at the Pre-Gala a week ago, the protests in Ponyville apparently turning violent with threats of arson and bombing, and, my favorite, the Vigilante cleaning up the streets. There is also this whole thing of little Woona acting up by the elite standards by partying with us commoners. I'll talk about all that stuff, but before I do, I got a message for the Vigilante.”

DJ-Pon3 coughs and spits, and after apologizing for that, she speaks, though her voice is now gravely instead of upbeat.

“Vigilante, if you're listening, I love what you're doing. I love you cleaning up the streets and how you kick ass and take names and all that, but word on the street is that Gilda is gunning for you, and if I know our griffin, then she’ll use every lowlifer and guard in her pocket to get your head. Which brings me to my next point. If any of you betray the Vigilante I swear to Luna I will rain down an unholy firestorm straight from the ninth ring of Tartarus! I’m not playing, I will buck you up! Now, who wants to hear some ‘3 Barns Up’?”

Click.

Pinkie Pie shuts off the radio and takes a seat at the kitchen with the daily newspaper, The Canterlot Times, in her mouth. She spits it out next to some bills and flips it open to the front page story, titled: “Cpt. Armor's Closet Alcoholism. What Else Is He Hiding?”

The front page has a picture of the drunk Captain sitting down with an ice pack pressed against his head. Pinkie Pie shakes her head sadly as she reads the article, which was written by none other than Quill Pen, the renown journalist who has a knack of humiliating ponies to the point where their lives are ruined beyond redemption.

The oven dings and Pinkie Pie hops out of her seat and carefully takes out a tray of a dozen freshly baked cookies and sets them on the counter to cool off. The heavenly scent makes her mouth water and she just wants to pounce on the goodies and eat them all. Though, if her years at the bakery taught her anything, it was the of ways restraining oneself, but she was never really good at that, and she proved that to herself when she snagged a cookie and ate it in one bite. As Pinkie Pie chews the cookie, she comes to the conclusion that she is disappointed with how they came out and makes a mental note to put frosting on them later.

After that, she walks back to the table and flips through the newspaper once more, passing over sports articles, entertainment reviews, the opinion column, and so on and so forth.

She skims an article about the Vanhoover Penguins winning the Equestrian Hockey Bowl. A review about the life and times of Eclipse Lulamoon. An article calling for extra government regulation and security measures to protect Equestria's freedom. Another article talking about the election season in Bernese and what the outcome means for relations between them and Equestria. Griffin refugees flooding in is another article that she passes. And lastly, there is an article talking about anarchy in the Ponyville area with threats of arson and bombings made against government buildings with Applejack apparently endorsing the behavior.

Normally Pinkie Pie would be quick to condemning the reporter as a liar, but after what happened between her and Applejack, she realized that Honesty has a dark side. And since her farm and way of life has been threatened, Pinkie Pie is willing to put money on the table to bet on Applejack's violent behavior being genuine.

Pinkie Pie stops reading when she hears the shower start, and then she cringes from the pain in her ears when Trixie starts singing like a dying canary with throat cancer. In a desperate attempt to block out the horrible singing and to cheer herself up, Pinkie Pie reads the comic section of the newspaper and then tries her hoof at some crossword puzzles. The puzzles aren’t too difficult, but they still bring a smile to her face as she scribbles in the letters. However, the farther into the puzzle she goes, the smaller her smile becomes and the bigger her frown gets. When she’s finished, she’s scowling at the rough, marked up parchment. Not because she’s mad at her work, but because it’s serving as a reminder of what she threw away all because she didn’t want to leave her fake friends behind. And as a sick joke on the universe’s part, there is an advertisement for the Manehatten Institute of Technology complete with a picture of a smiling mare holding a diploma in her mouth while standing on a pile of bags of bits. Pinkie Pie shoves the newspaper off of the table, bangs her head on the table and just leaves it there, giving her a fantastic view of the wood’s natural patterns.

A few minutes later, the shower stops and Trixie’s horrendous singing with it, and the unicorn comes out a couple of minutes later still damp with her silvery mane and tail retaining their natural curl and smiling brightly. Her eyes even have a sparkle to them that reminds Pinkie Pie too much of Rarity when she feels fabulous.

“Good morning, Minty,” says Trixie. “Ooh, goodie. Cookies!”

“Trixie, don’t-” starts Pinkie Pie.

Too late, Trixie is already digging into the cookies.

Pinkie Pie huffs. “Eat the cookies. Crap.”

Trixie turns around with cookie crumbs around her mouth while chewing on a cookie and holding another with her magic. “Something wrong?”

“I didn’t have a chance to put frosting on them. But they taste good bland anyway, so eat away.”

“Cool, thanks!”

Trixie eats the cookie and Pinkie Pie’s ears droop while her eyes become half lidded, just on the verge of vocalizing her annoyance of her roommate's inability to comprehend sarcasm.

“So, Minty, what are you going to do today?” asks Trixie.

Pinkie Pie looks at a bills unenthusiastically. “I have to run some errands.”

Trixie trots to the living room and turns on the radio. Pinkie Pie hears Trixie switching the stations on the radio, going from rock to country, country to rap, rap to pop, and pop to rock. She leaves it on the rock channel and starts singing along to a song called “Cloudsdale Castaway”. Once again, Pinkie Pie has to restrain herself from giving spontaneous singing lessons, but she does scribble down a note to enroll Trixie in a singing class, as well as buying more ear plugs and medication for the ears.

“WHOEVER’S SINGING, SHUT UP!” yells a stallion from behind the wall.

Trixie scoffs in disgust, places her hooves on a nightstand and leans towards the wall.

“HEY, BUCK YOU, BUDDY! THIS IS MY APARTMENT!” yells Trixie.

“I’M NOT YOUR BUDDY, GUY!” yells the neighbor.

“I'M NOT A GUY, FIEND!”

“YOU SURE SOUND LIKE ONE, BUDDY!”

Trixie slides off and rolls her neck and shoulders, snarling like a rabid animal. “Oh, that's it. I'm kicking his ass.”

Trixie starts towards the door, nostrils flaring, horn sparking and hoofs smoking, but thankfully Pinkie Pie intercepts her and shoves a cookie in Trixie’s mouth, effectively stopping her.

“Okay, Trixie, time to get you to work,” says Pinkie Pie. “Did you take your meds?”

“That guy was a jerk,” huffs Trixie, mouth still full of chewed cookie.

“I know, but did you take your meds?”

Trixie's eyes pop wide and with a horrified gasp, she gallops to the bathroom. Once there, Pinkie sits down and patiently waits as Trixie rummages through the medicine cabinet. Seconds later, Trixie cheers, there's a rush of water, and then she emerges, smiling again with dilated eyes.

“Trixie's happy, now,” says Trixie in eerily cheerful tone as she trots towards Pinkie Pie.

“Glad to hear. Now let's get you to work. We're running late,” says Pinkie Pie.

“Jadear!” says Trixie with eyes wide, and she wraps her hoof around Pinkie's neck in a half hug and points at the door. “You’re right, Minty Sprinkles! We must not falter further, for the Great and Powerful Trixie’s employment is on the line! Away!”

And Trixie bolts out into the hallway, soon to crash into a pony carrying groceriers, knocking her and all of her purchased goods to the floor, making a mess of food, yells and speedy apologies.

Nearly four hours later, Trixie and her group are slaving at the Card Casino and wanting to bash in Hank and Monte’s skulls. Their verbal whippings spare no one, and their annoying urgency to get the show prepared has dwindled the effectiveness of Trixie’s happy pills. Also, ever since Trixie was force fed those mushrooms, leading to her bruises and cuts to disappear, she has been getting a lot of unwanted attention. Particularly from Monte, and his version of giving her attention is the worst of the lot, because apparently using her his test subject for his cheap magic is a special way of flirting.

“I've seen him flirt with other mares, before, but he's different with you. He totally a schoolyard crush on you,” is what Clockwork had said shortly after arriving. “He teases you like a colt to a filly on a playground.”

That statement has been on Trixie's mind all day, and she knows deep down that Clockwork is wrong. Monte is a pain in the ass, simple as that, and today is no different.

“Now just hold still,” orders Monte.

Trixie sits still in the middle of a circle of decks of cards that have lines connecting each of them to form a pentagram. Trixie personally finds the symbol creepy, but Monte has repeatedly called it “cool”. Monte closes his eyes and his horn glows, and with it, all the cards. The cards rise up one by one and as Trixie looks at them her pupils shrink and she finds herself cowering in fear as the bladed cards rise up around her like demented petals of a flower. Soon she is completely encased in a bubble made up of the creepy, bladed cards, which she notices that the suits, numbers and faces having an occult twist to them.

“And here. We. Go!”

The stage suddenly opens up and Trixie yelps as she falls down, landing on her back on a mattress where a couple of security guards and crew members are. The cards fold away and she hears Monte triumphantly shout: “And she’s gone!”

After a weak applause Monte pokes his head down, flashing a mean spirited smile.

“Did I scare you, Trixie?” says Monte.

“Yes!” snaps Trixie. “What the hay are you doing with bladed cards, anyway?”

Monte taps his chin. “I dunno. Maybe because they’re cooler than silly fireworks.”

Trixie’s eyes narrow and he chuckles.

“Not that I’m taking a jab at your short lived fame or anything,” says Monte.

“You’re an ass,” says Trixie.

There’s an aggravated scoff and Trixie turns to her side to see a scornful female donkey walk away muttering colorful words. Trixie groans and face-hoofs, and then the mattress buckles as Monte lands next to Trixie, grinning.

“You really should be more sensitive,” says Monte. Trixie tries to walk away from Monte, but his persistence to annoy her is boundless. “My offer still stands, too! And I think it’ll be great for you since you look a million times better, you’ll surely draw crowds with just your looks alone. Did I mention that if we work together you get discounts at the buffet and special VIP passes?”

Trixie tunes out Monte after that, and when she is out of the Card Casino underbelly she heads back to her group, eager to have a daisy sandwich that’s being handed out by Fancy Entertainment’s catering crew. But, naturally, something goes wrong where she finds herself stuck in place by magic.

“Monte, I swear to Celestia,” starts Trixie angrily while turning her head, “that if you are holding meeeee-ohh... Hi.”

“Hello, Trixie Lulamoon, I am Agent Lock N. Key of the Equestrian Investigation Bureau. I have a few questions for you,” says a large stallion unicorn with an EIB badge hanging around his neck. He has four other unicorns, all mares, surrounding him and all possessing EIB badges.

Lock releases Trixie from his magic, and she looks past the agent and sees Monte and Hank talking to a couple of other EIB agents. She looks back at the agent and smiles, but her knees buckle and sweat coats her forehead and the back of her neck.

“Something wrong, officer?” asks Trixie.

“Agent,” corrects Lock.

“Right. Agent. Sorry.”

“Follow me, please.”

The EIB agents lead her to a secluded table in the back of the audience area and Lock pulls out a folder, flips it open, and shows her sketch artist pictures of her cheap costume. Next to the sketches are the familiar faces of ponies and griffins she hospitalized.

“Over the past few weeks we’ve been searching for somepony who has been referred to as the Vigilante by DJ-Pon3,” says Lock. He shows more sketch pictures of her newer costume. “We believe that this is the same pony in a more upgraded costume. The funny thing is, is that whoever this pony is has been compared to the fabled Mare-Do-Well.”

“Cool story, but what does that have to do with me?”

Lock’s eyes narrow. “Do not play us as fools, Lulamoon. Last week a group of thugs were battered by somepony wearing the former suit. It was reported that they got a few good hits, and a short time after a clinic was robbed of a single healing mushroom, and you return to work cured of all bruises and scars.”

Trixie shrugs and keeps her eyes somewhere other than at lock. “Maybe I had a really good night’s sleep.”

“A pony we interviewed about the incident said he recognized the Vigilante’s voice, but couldn’t pin where he heard it before. And the injuries match Fallen Ceasar, a favorite style of the League of Justice. You just happen to match the profile of trained in such an art and suddenly lost all serious injuries.”

Trixie’s eyes snap to Lock’s. Her body becomes tense and her mouth dry, and she sinks in her seat as Lock's gaze becomes more threatening.

“Are you fulfilling your obligations to the League of Justice, Lulamoon?” asks Lock. “Not that it matters, anyway, since you’d be the last of your pathetic organization and we can easily bring you back to Singsong. That is if, in fact, you are roaming the streets at night.”

Trixie gets an uneasy feeling in her stomach that makes her want to puke. “What do you mean?”

“The League of Justice is dead, and if you are breaking your parole contract the last of it will die with you in Singsong.”

The news of her being the last of the League of Justice not only puts a rock in her stomach, but all she can imagine is everyone she knew -the same ponies and zebras that helped her- lying dead somewhere. And she didn’t know about it until now.

“Are we done?” asks Trixie, her voice barely audible over her efforts to swallow her tears.

“Of course,” says Lock. “Just stay in town in case I have more questions for you.”

Trixie nods, slides out of her seat and walks away with her head down, now feeling too sick and broken to care for a sandwich.

Lock watches Trixie sulk away and he smiles to himself while he puts his files away. Trixie was ridiculously easy to read, making the interrogation the easiest he’s done all year.

“Why didn’t you use your magic on her?” asks an agent.

“I didn’t need to. Her body language told us everything we needed to know,” answers Lock.

After getting packed up, he exits the Card Casino with his escorts and once outside they are greeted by the warmth of the sun. Lock takes a moment to take it all in, but when a shadow of a zeppelin flies over he looks up to watch the graceful vehicle glide past him with the Solar Empire’s propaganda decorating its side. Then, just for the heck of it, he looks at the Celestial Spire in the distance and watches barely noticeable dots flying around and the cranes guiding steel beams to their respective places. When his sight seeing is over he enters a black motorized wagon that is designed like a limousine with the EIB seal on the side while the escorts go into other vehicles.

“Well?” says Brisk Wind while shifting her position to allow Lock more space.

“Our suspicions were proven to be correct. Trixie has been interfering with Gilda’s business,” says Lock.

“Oh, that makes things easier on us, then. But what about Minty Sprinkles? What do you have on her? You said you’d tell me after this little field trip of yours.”

Lock sighs. “She’s a ghost. Her personal records have been completely fabricated. The only solid thing we have are her purchases and, of course, her friend here.”

Lock and Brisk Wind look at a cuffed and gagged Ink Well. Lock uses his magic to remove the gag and when Ink Well is finished coughing and swearing in his native tongue, Lock speaks.

“Ink Well, we know you and Minty Sprinkles talked, but we want to know about what.”

“I am a citizen of Bernese! You have no right to do this!” says Ink Well.

“Our nation. Our rules. Now speak,” orders Brisk Wind.

“This is not Equestria! This is Tartarus!”

Lock and Brisk Wind look at each other as Ink Well rants about tyranny and other kinds of mumbo jumbo associated with political paranoia. Brisk Wind orders Gear Wheel to take them away from the convoy, and Brisk Wind has to personally use the radio to tell the others to buzz off since they cannot comprehend directions. After a few minutes of driving and listening to Ink Well's ranting and demands for a lawyer, Brisk Wind orders Gear Wheel to stop at a riverside road in an empty part of the city. When the vehicle stops, Lock shows Ink Well the plans for the advanced Mare-Do-Well suit he had been carrying with him, and the ibex smiles while Brisk Wind narrows her eyes.

“It’s a nice picture, isn’t it?” says Ink Well.

“You do realize that vigilantism is considered a form of terrorism in Equestria, right?” says Brisk Wind.

“Only for those who have wronged others,” retorts Ink Well, his tone matching Brisk Wind’s.

Brisk Wind stares at Ink Well, her eyelid twitching and her jaw tightening. Then she takes a deep breath, leans over Lock and pushes the door to the limousine open. After that, she bites down on Ink Well’s ear and drags him out, ignoring his pained screaming and swearing and Lock's calls for her to stop. When Brisk Wind has dragged Ink Well in the middle of the road she stomps on his side, snapping his ribs. He howls of agony echo down the dead road, and both Gear Wheel and Lock jump out, mortified with Gear Wheel covering her mouth and Lock unable to look away.

“We wrong no pony!” screams Brisk Wind.

She stomps on him again.

“We protect Harmony from lunatics like you!”

Brisk Wind stomps on Ink Well repeatedly, and only stops when Ink Well is barely able to twitch and his blood has been splattered all over her hoofs and the road.

Brisk Wind looks down at Ink Well's destroyed body, huffing and trembling with her mane a mess over her face. Ink Well, despite him bleeding to death and wheezing, stares at Brisk Wind with a weak snarl.

“There's a special place in Hell for you,” says Ink Well.

Brisk Wind growls and holds out her hoof to Lock. “Give me your gun.”

“Ma'am?” says Lock.

“Give me your gun!”

Lock reluctantly gives his gun to Brisk Wind and she forces Ink Well to look at her. “We know Minty Sprinkles ordered the suit. Tell me who she really is and what she is planning and we'll let you go.”

“No you won't,” wheezes Ink Well.

“Tell me!”

Ink Well laughs, coughing out blood a moment later. “What’s the matter? Scared that her actions will bring down your little empire?”

“My ‘little empire’ is going to perfect Harmony!”

“You? Perfecting Harmony? No, you’re destroying it. You are no guardian. You are a terrorist. A filthy rat!”

Brisk Wind immediately unloads the clip in a sloppy spray all over Ink Well’s body. When the clip is empty she spits out the pistol and stares at the corpse on the ground, breathing heavily and not even caring that his blood is circling around her hooves or has splattered on her uniform and face. She takes a deep breath and wipes her sweaty mane back before looking at Lock and Gear Wheel. She is fine with Lock holding it in, but Gear Wheel sniffling and on the verge of tears is annoying her.

“Get back in the car, Gear Wheel,” says Brisk Wind.

Gear Wheel stays frozen in place.

“Now!” barks Brisk Wind.

Gear Wheel squeaks and slips inside the vehicle, and Brisk Wind looks at Lock when he holsters his pistol.

“Who are we?” asks Brisk Wind in a dangerously cold tone.

Lock looks at her with a blank expression while carefully cleaning the bloody dots and slobber off of his pistol with a rag. Brisk Wind’s eyes narrow and she stares directly into Lock’s eyes with the fires of Tartarus in her.

“Who are we, Lock?” says Brisk Wind.

“We are the Equestrian Investigation Bureau,” says Lock quietly and cautiously.

“And what do we do?”

Lock gulps. “We protect Equestria and the ideals of Harmony from threats that reside within.”

“Exactly.” Brisk Wind looks at the corpse. “We are not terrorists. We are the defenders of Harmony, and that will never change.” She looks at Lock again. “Toss him in the river.”

Lock nods, silently uses his magic to toss Ink Well’s body into the ridge and then he goes inside the vehicle where his boss is waiting. When he is inside Brisk Wind orders Gear Wheel to drive as she awkwardly wipes the blood from her hooves using the rag Lock used earlier. It actually takes Brisk Wind to give the order twice for the driver to actually starts driving.

“Gear Wheel, I like you, so if you saw anything I will be very sad,” says Brisk Wind.

“Yes ma’am,” sniffles Gear Wheel.

“And Lock, can you be a gentlecolt and help me get the blood off of my hooves?”

The question is more of an order, and Lock is not interested in being crippled in a limousine, so he quietly uses his magic to guide the rag to wipe the blood off of her hooves. Brisk Wind is apparently ticklish there, too, which made the whole ordeal awkward and terrifying at the same time. When the blood is off of her hooves, Lock tosses the rag out the window and an increasingly uneasy silence takes over for the rest of the trip back home.

“Octavia has a vendetta with Sprinkles and Lulamoon, right?” says Brisk Wind casually.

Lock nods.

“Excellent,” says Brisk Wind. “We’ll deliver them to the griffins as a sign of good faith, have Octavia kill them, and then we’ll investigate their murder, pin it on one of our whistle blowers and reveal that the dead were vigilantes. That will give a nice public service message to the ponies out there that being a superhero is bad for your health.”

“Technically they aren’t superheroes,” points out Lock.

Brisk Wind rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. Besides, the griffins were going to scare Trixie into not talking to Captain Armor anyway.” She chuckles as if she had just heard an amusing joke and she steps out of the limousine with a dreamy look in her eyes. “It’s going to be a great day when all of this is over.”

Trixie looks up at the stall door when Clockwork lightly knocks on it. She hears the pegasus say something, but she can’t hear it over the thoughts swirling in her mind about the League’s fate. The sniffling doesn’t help her case, either. She does not even know why she is upset. They abandoned her after her use ran out, just like everyone else, but she feels like Lock has just told her family just died again and was glad doing it.

“Trixie, you’ve been crying in there for an hour. Can you please tell me what's wrong?” says Clockwork with concern.

“No,” moans Trixie.

“Why?”

Trixie wipes her nose and tears from her eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“Did you break up with somepony?”

“No.”

Clockwork hesitates. “Did somepony die?”

Trixie looks at the door and feels a new bulge bully its way up to her throat, and next thing she knows, she on the ground sobbing hysterically and finding it hard to breath.

“Trixie, I’m coming in,” says Clockwork over Trixie’s wailing.

Trixie would say something about the stall being locked, and would use magic to keep it that way, but her crying and the miserable thoughts accompanying it are making it hard to speak or concentrate on even the simplest of magical tasks. However, after a quick test, Clockwork nimbly climbs over the stall like a feathered bug. When she lands on the toilet with as much grace as she can muster, she scoops up Trixie’s huddled and shaking figure and hugs her tight. Trixie instinctively hugs the sandy colored pegasus back and cries in her shoulder.

Clockwork gently rocks Trixie back and forth while stroking her mane and gently shushes her in a soothing voice. Trixie cries harder and soon her eyes run dry of tears and her sobs are reduced to wailing, and she hugs Clockwork tighter, begging for comfort.

“Everything, everypony dies around me,” whimpers Trixie. “Its not fair. Its not fair. Why can't I be happy? Why am I always dead? Why are they always dying? Everything, everyone is dead and dying. Its all wrong!”

“Trixie, come here,” says Clockwork gently.

Clockwork hugs Trixie tighter and rubs her head against Trixie’s. The disgraced magician squeezes her eyes shut and buries herself into Clockwork, shivering and gulping for air. Fresh tears trickle down her cheeks and wet Clockwork's shoulder, and Trixie feels her teammate's hoof rub her back gently.

“They want to send me back to Singsong,” whimpers Trixie. “I don't want to go back there. I can't go back there.”

“Its okay. Everything is going to be okay,” purrs Clockwork, “I promise.”

“See? Everything will be okay, Trixie. She promises,” echoes Sunshine.

Trixie gasps and pulls away from Clockwork, her eyes and ears perked and heart racing as she frantically looks around the stall.

“Aw, why'd ya stop? That was cute the way you two hugged,” says Sunshine.

Trixie blasts the stall door open with her telekinesis and looks around for the demented entity. She barely hears Clockwork asking her what’s wrong as she breaks stalls open and looks in the garbage cans. When Trixie climbs on the bathroom sinks and tries to get into the ceiling, Clockwork pulls her down and holds her shoulders, looking her in the eyes with worry.

“Trixie, what’s wrong?” asks Clockwork.

“You don’t hear him?” says Trixie.

“Hear who?”

“Sunshine! You didn't hear Sunshine!?”

“No! Trixie, I don't even know who that is!”

Sunshine's chuckle echoes in the bathroom, and Trixie backs away, trembling and shaking her head.

“No, he's here. I... I have to go. I have to go!”

Clockwork grabs Trixie. “Trixie, wait!”

“Let me go!” shrieks Trixie.

She shots Clockwork in the chest with her telekinesis, blowing both of them off their hoofs, and while Clockwork struggles to get up, Trixie rolls to her hooves and gallops out, not looking back. She zips through the employees of the casino and Fancy Entertainment, and out into the busy streets of Canterlot.

She doesn’t know how long she has been running, but when she reaches her apartment her body wants to shut down right then and there and sleep because her lungs are burning, her muscles are sore, and her bones feel like they’re ready to snap at any moment. However, with Sunshine’s twisted chuckle and taunting ringing in her ears, passing out is not an option. And even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t, it would only leave her trapped in whatever sick room he has in store for her.

Trixie bursts into the lobby of the apartment and frantically pushes the button to call the elevator, sweating and panting from the amount of energy she exerted and from the fear plaguing her. She whimpers and dances nervously in her spot as she watches the numbers of the elevator go down seemingly slower than usual. When it dings open, Filthy Rich steps out with a pegasus mare. Both of them are smiling stupidly with their manes and tails ruffled and their clothes sloppily put on. But their smiles are replaced with shocked expressions and they yelp when Trixie uses her magic to throw them out of the elevator.

The elevator shuts and Trixie whimpers as the lights buzz and flicker on and off.

“That wasn’t very nice,” says Sunshine, his voice echoing and his appearance being known with every flicker of a shadow. “Ya really need t’ be more considerate.”

Trixie closes her eyes and shrinks in a corner while covering her ears. “Go away! Please, go away!”

“Now, why would I do that, darlin'?”

The elevator doors open on her floor, and Trixie wastes no time in galloping to her apartment. Upon entering, she runs straight to the bathroom, leaving her front door wide open, and grabs her pills from the medicine cabinet. As she struggles to focus her magic on grabbing the pills, her mane gets a crawling feeling like she’s being watched. Her breathing becomes shallow and her heart races as she slowly turns around to see Sunshine standing in the doorway, grinning, looking as hideous as he was the same day she first met him. His sickly green coat, yellow tail, and lustful eyes and smile are all there. Plain as day. Solid as a living pony.

“Hello, darlin’.”

The elevator doors to Trixie and Pinkie Pie’s apartment floor lazily slide open and Pinkie Pie walks out with some mail in her mouth, two of which are personal invitations to see Princess Celestia and Shining Armor immediately. Pinkie Pie is already dead tired from all the work she had to do, such as getting the paperwork for passports, scheduling places to stay in Bernese, and making sure that they actually get to Bernese without any interference. But thankfully Ink Well was able set up a way to get a place for her and Trixie to stay, all she really had to do was offer extra money.

Pinkie Pie’s body starts getting an uncomfortable buzz when she sees the door to her apartment open. Not knowing what to expect, she puts the mail by the door, and cracks her back and shakes away the weariness in her. Then she jumps in and sees Trixie in a complete mess by the toilet. Her azure coat is ghostly pale and soaked in tears around her face, she is trembling, and her mane is a sweaty mess. And the worst of it, she is eating her pills by the hoof-full.

In a blink of an eye, Pinkie Pie is wrestling the pills away from Trixie. The sudden burst of speed has left her burnt hoof and injured back screaming, but she pushes that pain aside. She cannot afford to feel it when Trixie is trying to kill herself.

“NO! I NEED THEM! I NEED THEM!” screams Trixie through her sobs as Pinkie Pie pushes the pills away from Trixie.

“You don’t need them!” says Pinkie Pie, trying to yell over Trixie.

The distraught unicorn’s crying and thrashing, and all around brutal behavior to get those pills scares Pinkie Pie, so she does the only thing she can do. She hugs Trixie and lets her cry in her shoulder, while gently rocking her and shushing her.

“He’s going to get me!” sobs Trixie, still trying to get to the pills.

“Who’s going to get you?” asks Pinkie Pie.

“Sah-Sunshine! Sunshine... He won’t leave me alone. Why can’t he just leave!?” cries Trixie.

Pinkie Pie sniffles and rubs Trixie’s back, and seconds later Trixie trembles and mumbles.

“He’s always there,” says Trixie. “Always... Always... Always. I NEED THOSE PILLS!”

Trixie lurches forward, catching Pinkie Pie off guard, and she almost grabs the pills that spilled on the floor, but Pinkie Pie is able to regain control of her.

“HE’S GONE WHEN I TAKE THOSE PILLS! LET ME HAVE THEM!” screams Trixie furiously, returning to her vicious behavior. “I NEED THEM!”

Pinkie Pie holds fast, and a minute of thrashes, screams and insults later, Trixie breaks down into sobs and clings to Pinkie Pie, curling on her lap and crying into her shoulder.

“They're dead,” whimpers Trixie. “Everypony is dead. I'm dead. I'm going to die. I'm going back to Singsong and Sunshine and Brisk Wind are going to get me. I don't want to die. I don't want them to get me. Please don't let them get me.”

“I won't let them get you,” Pinkie Pie says softly while stroking Trixie’s mane and letting her cry into her. “I'll keep you safe, Trixie.”

Pinkie Pie closes her eyes and leans against the wall, still hugging Trixie, and tears roll down her cheeks as she thinks about all the friends she lost and how she had gotten Spike and so many others killed. Pinkie Pie gulps back her tears and opens her eyes, which are now bloodshot, and looks down at Trixie. She whimpers, closes her eyes again and bangs her head against the wall. Now her tears are flowing freely with Trixie's. A short while later, Pinkie Pie takes a deep breath and softly sings.

Trixie is still whimpering and shaking, and Pinkie Pie’s holds her tighter and rubs her mane.

Pinkie Pie looks down, Trixie is still shaking and burying her face in her chest.

Her soft singing seems to be calming the wrecked unicorn down, so she continues singing and stroking Trixie’s mane.

Trixie stops trembling, but is still sniffling and mumbling to herself, but Pinkie Pie is glad that she has calmed Trixie down this much and continues holding her. She sighs and bows her head so that it is resting on the top of her friend’s head, humming the Smile Song. She doesn’t care how long it takes, she’ll stay with Trixie until she feels better. Princess Celestia and Shining Armor are just going to have to wait.

Author's Notes:

Edited on 28 Feb 2016

(Formerly Betrayals [A])