Author's Notes:

Added on 11 May 2016

Originally part of Complications

Trixie jumps upright on a fluffy bed with snowy white sheets and soft pillows with her whole body drenched in sweat and throbbing. After taking a moment to observe the unfamiliar, well furnished room she groans and raises her hoof to touch her aching horn, but stops when she sees a cheap splint as well as a fresh set of stitches on top of her old one. She also notices a splint on the hoof Adanz kicked and a whole lot of bandages that reek of alcohol. That said, the stitches are bland little lines done professionally, however, despite how pleased Trixie is that she has professional stitching and can no longer feel anything under her skin the pain cannot be ignored. That said, she gingerly crawls out of the bed and sways when her hooves touch a soft carpet, having to use thee bed frame for support.

After taking a deep breath, Trixie limps towards the door, twitching ever so slightly from pain, and when she steps out into the white hallway she hears music. She hobbles down the stairs, taking full advantage of the railing, and she stumbles into a large living room, furnished with fancy furniture and illuminated by an extravagant chandelier. The living room has a set of double doors that lead to a large balcony with diamond studded fence posts and a furniture set that matches the one in the living room. The balcony also has an uncompromised view of the rolling plains, which has the faint outlines of cities and towns in the distance. However, while the beauty of the view is unmatched, Trixie is not surprised by that. Rather she is surprised by who she sees in the living room, for sitting on the couch, listening to the radio with a cup of water is none other than the Magnificent Monte Fountain, humming along to the song playing over the radio.

Trixie’s eyes narrow and she crouches down and sneaks behind Monte, and when she is close enough to the oblivious pony she grabs him by the back of his neck and pulls him off of the couch while simultaneously using her magic to turn off the radio. Monte lands with a yelp and Trixie clambers on top of him and then presses one hoof against his neck while using her other hoof to keep herself balance. Then she smashes the cup Monte was drinking from against a nightstand and holds the jagged edge to his face.

“Please don’t hurt me,” whimpers Monte with his front hoofs held up defensively.

“Where am I?” says Trixie savagely, pressing harder against Monte’s throat and ignoring his wheezing and desperate attempts to gulp in air.

“He can’t talk unless he can breathe,” says a familiar stallion.

Trixie looks up and her jaw drops along with the broken cup when she sees Fancy Pants standing in the doorway with Fleur behind him. Trixie climbs off of Monte and steps back, not sure if she should be embarrassed or confused. Once Trixie is off of Monte, he rolls to his feet and rubs his neck while coughing in such a way one could mistake him for trying to hack a hairball. In normal circumstances, Trixie would be repulsed by Monte’s odd behavior, but she hasn’t had a normal situation in over ten years.

“What’s going on?” asks Trixie as she takes another step back.

“Trixie, relax, you’re safe, but we need to talk,” says Fancypants calmly. Then to his wife: “Fleur, pouvez-vous s'il vous plaît nous préparer du thé?”

“Oui, ma chère, il sera d'une minute,” replies Fluer.

Fleur heads towards the kitchen and Fancypants sighs heavily as he looks at the broken glass. He then quietly uses his magic to pick up the shards and drops them in a nearby garbage can.

“To answer your question, Monte banged on my door yesterday night with you on his back. You both were bleeding profusely from an impressive collection of injuries. Especially you. I did what I could to disinfect and close your wounds without taking you to the hospital,” says Fancy Pants.

“And you are one heavy mare, just a little F-Y-I,” says Monte. Trixie gives him a dirty glare and he chuckles uneasily. “But you still look good for a butch.”

“What!” screams Trixie furiously. “I don’t look butch! Fancy, do I look butch?”

“Eh, you're not butch, per say, you're just... toned,” says Fancy Pants.

Trixie groans and sits on her haunches while covering her face and throwing her head back. First, she finds out her “friend” was actually someone she was supposed to kill, then she’s nearly killed by the ponies that were supposed to protect her, then she was almost squished by a burning vehicle, and finally betrayed by Adanz. And now she finds out she looks butch. The days just keep getting better and better.

“Hey, look on the bright side. You're a very good looking butch,” says Monte.

Trixie glares at Monte. “I don't want to look butch. I want to look like a mare.”

“Could've fooled me.”

Trixie grinds her teeth as her face and folded ears heat up. “Monte, I swear to Celestia I will punch you.”

“Now is not the time to be bickering,” says Fancy Pants sternly.

Trixie points an accusing hoof at Monte. “He started it.”

Monte grins and puffs out his chest. “That I did.”

“And I'm finishing it,” says Fancy Pant. “I need to know why Monte -of all ponies- carried you here all the way from the griffin enclave with you in a tattered, bloody costume with stitches under your skin.”

“That is none of your business!” snaps Trixie. “Where is my costume?”

Fancy Pants and Monte look at each other and the zony tilts his head slightly towards the wood furnace.

“You tell her,” says Monte.

Fancy Pants sighs and approaches a wood furnace in the corner of the room, and then opens it to show Trixie what’s inside. Her costume, gnarled and burnt to ashy flakes with her pads cracked apart and the pieces melted together.

Trixie's eyes bulge and burn red with tears as she races to the charred remains, crying “No!” repeatedly with a river of tears running down her cheeks as she frantically digs out the pieces, spilling ash all over the carpet. When the pieces are all over the ground, she lies down and buries her face in her hooves and weeps. She then turns to Fancy Pants and punches him in the chest, face soaked and red, but the older stallion barely flinches.

“Why did you do that!” screams Trixie. She punches him again. “Why did you do this to me! That was all I had left!”

Monte grabs Trixie with his hoofs and magic and pulls her away, but she still screams and flails.

“I'm nopody without it and you took that away from me!” wails Trixie.

“It was for your own good,” says Fancy Pants. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a mess to clean up.”

Trixie slumps to the floor, sobbing, and Monte pulls her in and hugs her. His hoof rubs her shoulder and back, and his head rests on her shoulder, but he says nothing, leaving Trixie to cry and tremble without words of solace. A couple of minutes later, Trixie reluctantly pulls away from Monte's embrace, but she still keeps her eyes on the floor, unable to look at anyone or the ruined remains of her life.

“Where’s the bathroom?” sniffles Trixie.

Monte gives her instructions and she silently leaves the room, pushing past Fancy Pants when he enters with cleaning supplies. After reaching the bathroom she locks herself inside and sits on the toilet, trying to think of what to do next now that she ruined again. She closes her eyes and leans forward, running her hoof through her mane. She can hear the gunfire, the screams, and the terrifying sounds made from the burning zeppelin crashing through the wall. Trixie whimpers and rocks back and forth while pressing her head with her hooves. She feels like she’s reliving the battle with Adanz; his fury, his talons, his eyes, all vividly playing in her mind with crystal clear quality. Trixie grits her teeth and sobs quietly, curling up on the floor as Adanz’s golden eyes and what he did to Monte floods her thoughts.

Trixie hears the clinging metal, the wood breaking, and can feel Adanz's claws digging into her and the blunt force trauma from her being tossed around. She can almost taste her own blood again.

Trixie suddenly opens her eyes, her body shaking and drenched in sweat and tears, and eyes sore. The splints clak against the tiled floor and her body is now in so much pain, from every scratch and bruise above and below, visible and invisible, that she can barely move. She feels trapped in a cold, dark void, unable to move or fight or even see so much a hint of a friend. All there is is the looming shadow and its sick, twisted smile and perverted chuckling.

Trixie winces as she lifts her head to look around the simple bathroom for any sign of her tormentor, but he’s nowhere to be seen. She strains her muscles and grunts with pain as she sits up, and when she is up she pants hard and staggers towards the bathroom sink, nearly collapsing on it when she grabs its counter. She then awkwardly uses her hooves to work the knobs on the sink and when gets the water temperature just right she stick her hoof under the running water and splashes her face.

The warm water gives her a nice, relaxing feeling that she needed after what had happened in the past couple of days. However, the splash is clumsy so it only gets half of her face. So she splashes the other side of her face, and she does this repeatedly until her whole face is dripping wet. After that, she stares at her reflection and realizes just how much of a mess she is, from her sickly, sagging eyes, to her wrecked mane, and the collection of bruises and scars decorating her face. She does not see Trixie Patricia Lulamoon. She sees someone else completely different. A pony with no name. No identity. No friends. No family. She is a nobody with nothing.

With that thought, Trixie sighs and pokes her stitches, not sure what to expect, and when she strangely feels nothing out of the ordinary she covers her face with her hooves and tries to relax. But she can’t relax. The battle at Gilda’s manor keeps playing in her mind, specifically the fight between her and Adanz. Then a single sentence comes back to her.

Her hooves slowly slide off her face and her glistening eyes open just as gradually, and her eye twitches as her body trembles with anger. Trixie knows that if the League was going to poison anybody they would have done so with food or water, and she doesn’t recall seeing anything resembling a kitchen anywhere near her. She also knows that they were going to go “covert” they would not have come in with full battle gear. With the League arriving at Gilda's, to them so willing to meet up with an anonymous hero, she comes to a conclusion that boils her blood.

“They knew,” seethes Trixie.

“I told you they wanted to kill you, but you didn’t listen,” says Sunshine, coolly sitting next to Trixie.

Trixie screams jumps in her spot, towards the source, but there is nothing there, except for polished tiles. She looks back at the mirror and sees Sunshine is sitting in the exact spot, still smiling.

“Somethin’ wrong, darlin’?” says Sunshine.

“Why can’t you leave me alone?” says Trixie.

“I think we already had this conversation. I said I loved ya, but you said I was obsessed, then I said obsession was love.”

“One of these days, I’m going to kill you and make sure you stay dead.”

Sunshine snickers. “Me and who else? Adanz? Brisk Wind? Lyra? Monte? Keep growing that list of yours. It’ll be fun when you cross the names off. Trust me.”

There is a knock on the bathroom door and someone calls her, but Trixie keeps her hostile gaze locked on the mirror and the pain all over Trixie’s body return with reinforcements. When the knocking persists Trixie yells at the knocker to go away as she yanks opens the medicine cabinet and hastily rummages through it, ignoring the knocking and Sunshine’s quiet smirk. It does not take her long to find what she is looking for, which is a container of pain pills.

“Good choice,” chuckles Sunshine.

Trixie clumsily uses her magic and hoof to pop the container open and swallows a hoof-full. She chokes and quickly starts drinking from the faucet, which, as she does this, Fancy Pants forces the door open. The sudden intrusion sends Trixie leaping back with her horn charged, heart racing and body coiled, and the pill container clatters to the floor, spilling its contents all over the tile.

“Can’t a mare get any privacy?” says Trixie.

“We heard you screaming and talking to- Did you just take my pain pills?” says Fancy Pants as he grabs the container with his magic.

When he counts the pills and sees more on the floor and the faucet running he glares at Trixie, but she does not care. She bullies her way past Fancy Pants, Fleur, and Monte, all three talking over each other and all three being toned out. That is until three sets of magic grab her and drag her towards them, despite her colorful swearing and thrashing. When they carry Trixie to the living room and toss her on the couch her whole body tenses up and she grits her teeth as she shrinks and charges her horn defensively.

“Come on! I dare you!” snarls Trixie, body curling for a pounce.

“Dare us to do what?” asks Monte.

Monte yelps when Trixie shoots him in the chest with a bolt of lightning. The blast isn’t fatal, but it does send him stumbling into the wall, and Fleur screams and jumps back and Fancy Pants lunges at Trixie.

Trixie clambers over the couch to escape, but is surprised when Fancy Pants follows her and tackles her to the ground. While Trixie squirms under him, he presses her head against the carpet and sits on top of her. Trixie screams and swears over Monte -who is also whining- as her attempts to break free are in vain.

“Trixie, shut up!” exclaims Fancypants, then points at Monte. “And you, stop your bitching!”

Everyone snaps to silence and stares at Fancy Pants with their jaws locked and eyes wide. Even Fleur, despite how pale her coat is, becomes impossibly white. A moment later Fancy Pants takes a deep breath, pushes his mane back and stares at Trixie.

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” he says.

Trixie opens her mouth to say something, but when she sees the fire in his eyes, she does a subtle nod instead. Fancy Pants then crawls off of Trixie and helps her up, and she brushes herself off and looks at the floor, still holding her grim expression.

“Chérie, qu'est-ce que c'était?” says Fleur uneasily.

Trixie and Monte look at Fleur, clueless as to what she said.

“Juste un peu de mon ancien moi. Rien à craindre.” replies Fancy Pants, his smile reflecting his uneasiness.

Trixie and Monte’s gaze shifts to Fancy Pants, still confused, and when Fleur nods and leaves the room they look at each other, their confusion worse than before. Fancy Pants then takes a deep breath and motions for Trixie and Monte to follow Fleur out.

As the two walk out Trixie leans closer to Monte, whispering: “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Monte glares at Trixie. “I saved your life and brought you to your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Please, everypony at my casino and at your work knows you're horn over hoof about him.”

Trixie raises her hoof to punch him, face burning with embarrassment, but Fancy Pants clears his throat, staring at her with a stern frown. She lowers her hoof and her head with a huff and follows him in silence. The group group walks onto the balcony and Fancy Pants helps Trixie sit down and proceeds to sit across from her. But when Monte sits next to Trixie she scoots away, making the zony frown and turn away with his nose in the air.

“Fine way to repay somepony for saving you,” says Monte.

“I saved your life earlier, so consider us even,” says Trixie.

“And that is what I wanted to talk to you about,” says Fancy Pants. “The costume explains your bruises and scars, but I’m just curious as to what possessed you to act so rash.”

“The beauty of curiosity is that you don’t have to yield to it,” remarks Trixie.

Monte whistles impressivwely and when Fancy Pants glares at him he looks up at the beautiful clouds and chirping birds. Fancy Pants turns back to Trixie, and she folds her hooves across her chest and looks away from the older stallion.

“Allow me to rephrase, then,” says Fancy Pants. “I want to know what you were doing in painted hoofball pads, fighting griffins and EIB agents and taking gliding lessons with your cape. And I want to know it now.”

Trixie glares at Monte, and without looking he shrugs again, like he knew Trixie was giving him the death glare. Fleur walks out with a tray of tea in her magical grip, and Fancypants thanks her and carefully takes the tray before telling her something in their fancy language. Fleur looks him questionably, then at Trixie and Monte, then specifically at Trixie, and then she leaves with her nose in the air.

“I wasn’t gliding, I was falling with style,” says Trixie.

“This is no time for jokes, Trixie,” says Fancy Pants.

“She wasn’t joking. We really were falling with style,” says Monte.

Fancy Pants once again glares at Monte, and Trixie tries to leave, but Fancy Pants uses his magic to keep her pinned to her seat. She demands to be released as she squirms, but Fancy Pants holds fast and when Trixie’s horn glows for a strike a sharp pain rips through where her horn chipped and she collapses to the table, crying and rubbing her injury. This prompts Fancy Pants to release her.

“This sucks!” cries Trixie.

“Trixie, being a costumed hero is not meant for real life. Its only for comic books,” says Fancy Pants. “Your activities almost got you killed. I don’t want you killed, Trixie. I want you to live a long life where you don’t have to worry about retribution or keeping your identity a secret. If you continue this you’ll have no choice but to change everything to keep those you love safe from whatever enemies you gained. And in some cases, from yourself.”

“But I have a lot of work to do.”

“Trixie, it’s over. You won your war. Gilda has been taken in, her empire is destroyed, and your friend has been avenged. Please stop this nonsense before it consumes you. Or worse.”

Trixie shakes her head. “I can’t. I have to make Brisk Wind and Lock pay for what they’ve done. Then it’ll be Adanz and Roar Shock.”

“Yeah, you probably want to rethink your list,” says Monte.

Trixie looks at Monte quizzically, then her stare is fixated to a newspaper that Fancy Pants summons. He tosses it in front of Trixie, opened to the article about a warehouse massacre written by Quill Pen.

“Agent Lock died a horrible death,” says Fancy Pants grimly. “That will be you if you continue like this.”

He then leaves without another word and when the balcony door closes Trixie reads the article. She barely gets started when she sees many things wrong with it, such as labeling Lock a “talented investigator with a warm heart”, a “hero to his community”, and “a caring husband”. None of those qualities matches Trixie’s idea of him, especially the “warm heart” part.

She continues to read the article and when she gets to his death, she cannot help but smile. She is glad he was killed, but she finds herself not caring that Rainbow Dash is being investigated by the EIB for her role in the massacre. However, one part does catch her eye and she has to reread it just to make sure its not some kind of trick her eyes are playing. According to Quill Pen, an anonymous source is claiming that Pinkie Pie has been found alive and is currently in critical care, and to commemorate the brave mare Quill Pen will be doing a special article surrounding her fight for survival.

“I can’t believe it!” says Trixie, at a near loss of breath from joy and disbelief. “Pinkie’s alive! Now I can beat the crap out of her for lying to me.”

“Did you even hear me?” asks Monte.

“You didn’t say anything.”

“I did to! I was saying that now that Gilda is in custody and Lock is dead, you can retire. You didn’t even have to knock out Gilda or Lock because their blood feuds is what ended them.” Then in a sly whisper. “Or you could wait until Brisk Wind is taken care of...”

Trixie stares at Monte as the zony smirks.

“You want to know why I was Gilda’s loft?” says Monte as he inches closer.

“You worked for her.”

“Work for her. I still work for her, and Gilda, despite being the polar opposite of sunshine, didn’t outshine Eclipse, Sunshine, or Toolbox by being a moron.” Monte chuckles. “Nope, she never really trusts any of her partners so she kept every bit of dirt she had on them in a safety deposit box in a Bernese bank. That includes Brisk Wind.”

Trixie leans forward, suddenly intrigued by what Monte is saying.

“Everything?” she asks.

“Everything. Conversations, numbers, addresses, contracts, bank transactions, pictures, you name it. The most recent ones are not in the bank, but the older files are. You see, I’m the only one left who can get those files, and... well I was supposed to leave immediately with the recent files but I wanted to screw with Brisk Wind so I left her a nice message that may or may not have the Bank of Bernese logo on it.”

“You idiot!” screams Trixie. Monte jumps in his seat and falls off when Trixie pounces on him and pins him to the ground. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Angered two mares with a piece of paper?”

“No! You just gave Brisk Wind a target! She will find those files and destroy them before they see the light of day!”

Monte chuckles and gently pushes Trixie off just enough for for him to sit up comfortably.

“Trixie, you seem to have forgotten that nothing can beat a Bernese bank,” says Monte. “I’m on Gilda’s list of approved to access her deposits. I can get those files that will bury Brisk Wind alive, but I’m going to need a companion to court.” He stands up, adjusting his cape. “I’m going... to need... a companion... to court.”

“What are you talking about?” says Trixie.

“We have a common enemy, Trixie. We work together to take her down and then we’ll go our own separate ways. Simple as that.”

“I know that! But what was with the...?” Trixie’s eyes widen and she holds up her hoof in disgust while leaning back. “Oh no. I am not doing that.”

“It’s a lot easier to travel as tourists, and its easier to pose as tourists of we look like a couple. Just saying.”

“I am not posing as your marefriend.”

“Actually, I was thinking you can pose as my wife.”

Fancy Pants finishes putting away some freshly cleaned dishes when he sees Monte walk into the kitchen in a trance like state and open up the freezer. He then grabs a pack of frozen beans and walks out while pressing the bag against his jaw. The whole time he is strangely silent. When Monte is out of sight, Fancy Pants shakes his head and resumes putting his dishes away.

Trixie sits on the couch with the ruined goggles pressed to her chest. She is breathing heavily, and trying to hold back her tears and keep herself from having a meltdown. However, that is very hard for her since her costume is ruined beyond repair, her pills are gone, and Monte is being more annoying than usual. She also knows sooner or later she will have to deal with Adanz and Roar Shock. She already has some idea of what Adanz is capable of, but all she knows about Roar Shock is that he killed her father and he is a genius nutjob bent on enacting his own twisted code of justice.

“You know, I don’t think this marriage will work out if you continue to beat me,” says Monte, either foolish or brave enough to put a noticeable tease in his tone.

“Monte, why are you so persistent about me going to Bernese with you?” asks Trixie.

“You know why.”

“Well you better drop it, because its not going to happen.”

“Really.” Monte sits across from Trixie, now holding a stern glare. “Well then inform me, oh Ms. Great and Powerful Trixie, how you plan on bringing down Brisk Wind. You don’t have a costume anymore.”

“Because you burnt it.”

“So you can’t go around beating up ponies and getting away with it. You could take the assassination route.”

“I’m not a killer!”

“But by that outburst that is not going to happen anytime soon. So tell me, what are you going to do?”

“She won’t do anything,” says Fancy Pants as he steps into the room. “Trixie, you’re done with this vigilante business.”

Monte steps in between Fancy Pants and Trixie and pokes the older unicorn in the chest.

“Hey, last I checked, you’re not her daddy,” says Monte.

“I will not let her get involved in any more of this!” says Fancy Pants. “She almost died for Celestia’s sake! And now you want her to go with you to Bernese?”

“It’s to take out Brisk Wind!”

“Really? Are you being a good citizen helping out, or is this the wish of Gilda?”

Monte opens his mouth, but quickly closes it and walks away, mumbling incoherently.

“Thought so,” says Fancy Pants, and then to Trixie: “You are staying right here where its safe.”

“What!” cries Trixie as she jumps to her feet. “But I can’t stay here! I have to do something!”

“No, you’re going to be doing nothing except sit here in this house until we can fix this in a way that doesn’t involve you putting your life in danger.”

“But I got to do my super hero stuff...”

“I don't want to hear it, young lady. You are staying here and that is final.”

“You can’t keep me here!” yells Trixie defiantly as she stomps her hoof. “I can do what I want and I’m leaving!”

“Really?” asks Monte hopefully as he zooms back in the room with a giant grin plastered on his face.

“Not with you!” says Trixie. Monte groans and looks down, and Trixie marches towards the door, but Fancy Pants steps in front of her. “Out of my way! I’m going to take down Brisk Wind and there is nothing you can say or do that will stop me!”

Fancy Pants steps forward and glares down at Trixie, and she gulps and shrinks back slightly.

“Is that so,” he says.

A fast minute later, Trixie huffs and folds her hooves across her chest, sitting on the bed she woke up in not too long ago and glaring at the door as Fancy Pants closes it with his magic.