[Lyra Heartstrings] “You can’t stop him. He is coming… He will find Pinkie Pie and kill her. She was responsible for his failure at Ponyville and killed his daughter. He wants her dead, and he will come for her… and kill her and everypony that stands in his way.”

[Translator Plätzchen] “Who is coming?”

[Silence for five seconds]

[Translator Plätzchen] “Lyra, who is coming?”

[Lyra Heartstrings] “Roar Shock.”

Pinkie Pie wakes up on a beach to the soothing sound of gentle waves crashing on the shores and the friendly callings of seagulls. The paradise she wakes up in is made all the better by the gently breeze blowing warmth over her.

Pinkie Pie lifts her face up to get a better view of her surreal surroundings, and much of the dirt sticks to her like sugar sprinkled on a pink cookie, and her dripping wet mane clings to her face. Pinkie Pie blinks and looks around at the beach, quick to deduce that the sand is looks strangely like fine brown sugar and the water is sticky, like flat soda. Wanting to test her theory, Pinkie Pie licks the sand off of her lips, smiling thinly when she gets the sweet taste proving her theory correct, but frowns when she realizes that she had taken a swim in soda and is now sticky.

“Gross,” mutters Pinkie Pie while pushing herself up.

Then her ears perk at the thumping of distant music, and she sees a small shack bouncing slightly with colorful lights flashing in and out. She beams as she runs towards it, feeling all the more euphoric when she doesn't feel a pain in her back or the weight of her sins on her shoulders. She is free!

When she reaches the party shack, she pushes open the door and freezes, pale as a ghost, when she finds herself standing Ponyville. All of its color is gone, leaving just a dingy blend of gray and brown. Not even the sun is able to breach the dark clouds looming overhead, and the music she heard earlier is now eerily faint and echoing in the dead streets.

Pinkie Pie turns around, wanting to go back and sunbathe on the sugar beach, but finds that the door is gone. The only thing there is a brick wall with a worn poster of Celestia wrapping her wings around a group of happy foals like a loving mother. The caption on the poster had been crudely painted over, and instead of saying something deep and moving to spark the goodness in the populace, there is just: Harmony is a LIE!

“I knew you would be drawn to the bouncing shack,” echoes Pinkamena. Pinkie Pie turns around, heart racing and sweating bullets as Pinkamena's cackle echoes over the music. “You always did enjoy a good time, but you never did know what a real good time was!”

Pinkie Pie's hoof glides over her barrel, but when all she brushes is her coat instead of the Laughter's necklace, she freezes and looks down, horrified by what she is not seeing. Her head snaps up when she hears Pinkamena giggle, and pales when she sees her evil twin standing down the street flaunting the necklace.

“Looking for this?” taunts Pinkamena.

“Give it back!” yells Pinkie Pie.

“Technically you already have it since you and I are the same pony.”

“No we are not!”

“Yes we are,” says Pinkamena right into Pinkie Pie's ear.

Pinkie Pie yelps and nearly jumps out of her skin as she dives for cover behind a bale of abandoned hay. Her heart sounds like a rapid bass as it thumps violently in her chest, and she presses her hoof over it to keep it steady, but it doesn't work. Pinkamena's laughter only makes her fear all the stronger.

“It's funny, this Harmony thing,” states Pinkamena. Pinkie Pie can just picture the psycho pacing around, trying to look cool. “When the church talked about it, it seemed like they were the greatest things ever! They couldn't be tricked, couldn't make wrong choices, couldn't do anything that was mean or nasty. But...”

Pinkie Pie swallows her fear and peeks out to see Pinkamena stroking Laughter with a resentful scowl.

“But you and I know the truth, don't we, Pinkie?” asks Pinkamena, now glaring at Pinkie Pie. “We know that we can fool goddesses and gods. We know they can make wrong choices and do mean nasty things to us mortals.”

Pinkie Pie cautiously steps from behind the bale and cautiously approaches Pinkamena, hoof outstretched and pleading tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Pinkamena, please don't do anything,” begs Pinkie Pie in a whimper.

“Don't do anything?” repeats Pinkamena, eyes going down towards the necklace and her hoof stopping over the amulet. “Why? Is it because you want everything to be the same? You want the world to go back to being blinded with a pséftiki eiríni?”

Pinkie Pie blinks. “A what?”

Pinkamena sighs and glances at Pinkie Pie, unimpressed by her question. “A false peace. Didn't you pay any attention in school?” Before Pinkie Pie can answer, Pinkamena waves her hoof dismissively. “Whatever, doesn't matter. The point is, Pinkie, is that everypony was so caught up in lovey-dubby, rose tinted glasses junk that they failed realized that Harmony is the biggest lie ever.”

Pinkie Pie steps forward, forcing the courage in her veins. “Give me back Laughter.”

Pinkamena takes a step back. “Ahahah, no can do, Pinkie. Laughter lied to you, and the sooner I get rid of this thing, the happier you'll be.”

Pinkie Pie's eyes narrow and she takes a threatening step closer. The clouds darken and swirl around each other as green flashes slither between them, and the music is drowned by the howling wind kicking up loose garbage and dirt. Both ponies stand their ground, ignoring the chilling air and the rain pattering around them, and Pinkie Pie keeps her eyes narrowed on Pinkamena while the other grins.

“If you put a single scratch on it, I swear to Celestia-”

“Right, swear to the goddess that never loved you. Brilliant!” mocks Pinkamena.

“Pinkamena, don't make me hurt you.”

“You hurt me, you hurt yourself. So go ahead, punch yourself. But I'm still going to crush this stupid necklace.”

Pinkamena throws the necklace to the ground, sparking a flash of green lightning to shoot down behind her and set flame to a hidden structure. And right as Pinkamena brings her hoof up, Pinkie Pie tackles her in the chest. Both ponies roll over each other like a pink marble ball and come to a stop with Pinkie Pie on top, both panting and covered in mud. Pinkie Pie raises her hoof, and stares down at Pinkamena with the fires of Hell burning in her eyes. The pouring rain cascades off of her hoof and splatters on Pinkamena's face, but she still holds the toothy grin.

“Go on, Pinkie, punch me! Punch me hard!” chuckles Pinkamena.

Pinkie Pie's chest heaves and she grits her teeth as her tears mix with the rain, and Pinkamena cackles madly as her evil eyes shift to the emerald color. The howling wind and the piercing cold water hurts Pinkie Pie's eyes and ears, forcing them squint and fold against her skull. The rain pounds against them without mercy, and soon Pinkamena is sinking into the mud, still laughing without a care in the world and urging Pinkie Pie to strike her. But when Pinkie Pie refuses to lower her hoof Pinakmena’s laughing turns into a dark chuckle.

“You can't do it, can you?” she says tauntingly. “You can't hit me even when I threaten McMeanie! Admit it, Pinkie, you are weak and nothing without me.”

Pinkie Pie crawls off of Pinkamena and walks away with her head down and tail dragging in the mud. She can hear Pinkamena's taunts and laughter through the wind, and no matter how hard she tries to block her out, she can still hear her. It is like her very voice is part of the wind. When Pinkie Pie reaches her necklace she doesn't see it anywhere, she stares at the rapidly fading imprint, trying to figure out what happened to it while still trying to block Pinkamena. She gasps when she feels cold metal snap around her neck, and when she looks down, she sees the familiar amulet of Laughter pressed against her barrel. She looks behind her just in time for Spike to scoop her up and carry her away from Pinkamena while his claws gently rub her muddy mane like how a parent would to comfort their child.

Over Spike's shoulder, Pinkie Pie sees Pinkamena standing up, her bright emerald eyes piercing the blanket of heavy rain as the drake trudges through the mud.

“You think he is your friend?” screams Pinkamena disdainfully. “You think you have friends? Even after you got him and Trixie and your own sister killed? You are alone without me, Pinkie! ALONE! YOU NEED ME!”

Pinkie Pie whimpers as she squeezes her eyes shut. Pinkamena's shouting is barely heard over the rolling thunder and howling wind, but it is still enough to make Pinkie Pie shiver. She finds some comfort in Spike's tightening hug, but still finds it hard to relax or ignore Pinkamena, even when he tells her to in a soothing voice.

Soon Pinakmena's voice is lost, and all that remains are the slushy trudges and the rain beating against Pinkie Pie's back. She dares not open her eyes, though, even when she hears a familiar bell ding and a sudden warmth and dryness. When she does get the courage to open her eyes she finds herself sitting on one of the stools from the Sugar Cube Corner with a shake in front of her and a bowl of ice cream in front of Spike.

“Did I do that?” asks Pinkie Pie as she points at her treat.

Spike nods. “Yep, it's your dream so you do all the cool dream stuff. I'm just here to get you back on track.”

“If I control my dreams how come you didn't show up when Pinkamena burned down my house?”

Spike shrugs. “Beats me.” He looks at his ice cream, grinning when he sees it is made up of all kinds of different flavors. “Oh goody, a rainbow bowl! I loved these things when I was alive!”

Pinkie Pie's face falls and it takes Spike a couple of massive bites and a brain freeze to realize his words. While rubbing his temple, muttering about not even the dead being able to escape brain freezes, he sees Pinkie Pie staring at the shake sadly. Spike puts down his spoon and looks apologetically at Pinkie Pie.

“Sorry, that was insensitive.”

Pinkie Pie looks at Spike. “No, it's alright, it's just that... well, I remember when you first tried a rainbow bowl.”

“When Twilight made the mistake of letting you babysit me?”

Pinkie Pie gets a faint smile. “She totally got mad about how we had the ice cream eating contest.”

“Which I won.”

“Did not.”

Spike smiles devilishly. “Did too.”

“Nopony can beat me in an eating contest.”

Spike grins. “True, but a dragon could. And did.”

Pinkie Pie chuckles with Spike as the memories of the good times they had gradually return to lift the weight that had been crushing her heart for so long. Spike doesn't let up on his nostalgia remedies. He goes on to asking Pinkie Pie about the time when she tried to get Fluttershy to join a heavy metal band, or how Rainbow Dash had to behave like Rarity for a week after losing a bet. Curly mane and attire included.

“Dashie pulled it very well for somepony who is supposed to hate that kind of stuff,” giggles Pinkie Pie.

“Yes, I do believe Rainbow Dash has a side of her that she keeps very well hidden,” says Spike in a comically fake snobbish accent as he strokes his chin.

Pinkie Pie snorts a laugh, feeling lighter by the second. Even her mane is inflating back to its old cotton candy like puffiness.

“So, Pinkie why don't you tell me a bit about your childhood?” says Spike suddenly.

Pinkie Pie's smile instantly disappears and a skeptical look hardens her once again.

“Why?” asks Pinkie Pie slowly with a cocked brow.

“Well, your childhood can't be all that bad. I mean, sure, it was probably rough since you don't like to talk about it, but there's gotta be something good in there.”

Pinkie Pie slowly sips her drink, still guarded about Spike's request, and the dragon merely takes a bite out of his never ending ice cream bowl. His movements are just as slow and calculating as hers, but while she is genuine, he is making a mockery of her actions.

“Stop copying me,” snaps Pinkie Pie.

“I'm not copying you. I'm just eating my ice cream really slow.”

Pinkie Pie lowers her head to sip her straw and Spike lowers his spoon to scoop more of his treat. She stops, he stops. She raises her head, he raises his spoon. She lowers, he lowers. This goes on for a few rounds before Pinkie Pie slams her hooves on the table, yelling at Spike to stop it.

“Just one story from your childhood,” says Spike calmly. “Think of something happy and talk about it.”

“Why? Why is it so important to you!”

Spike sighs explosively and sets his spoon down and leans towards Pinkie Pie with a stern expression. “It is important to me because it is important to you. You are miserable, Pinkie, and the more you focus on the gloomy, crappy stuff the stronger she-” Spike points out the window with his thumb “-becomes. You may not realize it, Pinkie, but even though I'm a ghost I still have feelings. I still care about you, Rarity, Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy and Applejack. And if I could, I would split myself up and haunt all six of you guys until you got your acts together. But I can't, and out of all the others, it is you that is broken down to the core, so I am going to focus on you until I see the happy go lucky, pink party animal I fell in love with make a permanent come back. Now tell me a happy story from your childhood or else I won’t stop copying you.”

Pinkie Pie stares at Spike, unblinking and shocked about the rant that spewed out of the drake's mouth. Spike stares back at her sternly with his arms folded across the chest, and Pinkie Pie briefly looks out the window when there is a flash of lightning. When the Sugar Cube Corner shakes from the rolling thunder, she looks back at Spike, swallowing nervously, but the nervousness evaporates to confusion when his final words seep in.

“Did you seriously fall in love with me?” asks Pinkie Pie.

Spike hesitates. “As a brother-sister kinda thing, don't make it weird,” he says quickly.

Pinkie Pie's ears droop in disappointment and she slouches in her seat. She gingerly takes her drink and sips it, and Spike eats a spoonful of his ice cream. Pinkie Pie looks up and he looks back at her, giving her a quick smile.

“Well, where's a good memory? I know you got one.”

“But-”

“No buts. Tell me a good memory.”

Pinkie Pie stares at Spike defiantly, and he returns with an even stronger stare. Eventually Pinkie Pie’s defeat is marked with a deep sigh and a gentle stroke over her amulet.

“Okay,” says Pinkie Pie softly as she strokes Laughter. “Before I moved to Ponyville, I had a crush on this guy who was one of the coolest guys in our town. He was sweet and goofy when you got him comfy, but for the most part he could've been mistaken for a manticore with his attitude.”

“Seriously?” Spike says with an arched eye ridge.

Pinkie Pie nods. “But it was because he was really sad. He was a blank flank and because of that... well, you know how kids are. His father was Royal Guard and stationed near our town, and when we first met, he and his mom were paid by my dad to repaint the house. I found out about his problem when I was spying on him, and he didn’t like that I found out… or spied on him, I can’t remember which. Maybe it was both. Anyway, I also found out he liked to paint so I tried to get him to do all the cool painty stuff while trying to get a real smile from him. It would work occasionally, but it would only be like a puff of happiness, then he would go back to being sad. I couldn't stand seeing him like that. I invited him to parties and church events and picnics and dinners and more parties and more church events and more dinners, and I even invited him to dance with me at my birthday party! He would stay for a little bit, but then leave without a word. But that was probably because my dad kept giving him weird looks or my sister kept flirting with him. He wasn’t a flirter. He was actually very, very, very, very shy, like Fluttershy shy, and book smart, like Twilight smart. I thought he was a shiny golden keeper.”

Spike nods and takes a bite from his ice cream while Pinkie Pie sips her shake, staring with worry at the raging storm as the rain drops relentlessly pound at the windows. She's afraid that the power of the rain will shatter the windows, and she is also certain she can see Pinkamena lurking in the storm, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to make her move.

“So, did he get a paintbrush for his cutie mark or something?”

Pinkie Pie's face falls. “No... Actually it was a couple of swords. Or, at least I'm pretty sure that's what they were.”

Spike's eyes widen with surprise. “Really?”

Pinkie Pie nods. “When we were by a lake we weren't allowed to go to, I was playing in the water with some friends from church when suddenly this big ole monster just came out of the lake! It was one of those land octopus thingies with the giant tentacles and big, gnashing, razor sharp teeth.”

“You mean like those monsters in the porno comics that tentacle rape the hoties?”

Pinkie Pie's jaw drops as a very unwanted and perverted image of what Spike was talking about appears in her mind. “SPIKE!”

Spike grins playfully. “What?”

“Ewe-uh! Now I won't be able to look at that day the same way again!”

Pinkie Pie slams her face on the table, groaning in disgust while Spike apologizes between his laughing. It takes Spike a couple of minutes of apologizing and begging for Pinkie Pie to look up from her excellent close up of the table, and another minute of Spike's begging for her to continue her story.

Pinkie Pie reluctantly continues. “Naturally we all screamed our lungs out and made for the hills when this nasty thing chased after us. It went after me when I got tangled on some vines or something, but while everypony else ran, leaving me trapped and thinking I’m a goner, Glimmer came out of nowhere like a superhero and jumped right in front of me with a pickaxe and a shovel and he fought that thing off. He got his cutie mark after that, and it looked like it was the saddest day of his life. He wanted to be an artist, not a soldier, but it was like my dad said: 'Paradise has a plan for us'. Canvas's big purpose in life is to protect others. I couldn’t properly thank him since his dad took him to Stalliongrad for an ROTC program the next day. I never saw him again.”

Pinkie Pie sips some more while Spike silently stares at her. Once Pinkie Pie has had enough of her empty sipping, she pushes her cup away and rests her head and the table.

“Ya know, that really wasn't all that happy,” says Spike as he scratches his head. “I mean I'm glad he saved you and all, but jeeze, talk about a depressing undertone. It looks like we'll have to try this again. Why don't you talk about when you and this Glimmer guy hung out at one of your parties?”

“Maybe later,” sighs Pinkie Pie depressingly. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Spike watches Pinkie Pie stare at the Sugar Cube wall, disappointed that she won’t go further into what he finds to be a very interesting part of her childhood. Pinkie Pie pokes at her empty cup until it falls over, and then she just lets it roll off the edge and clatter to the floor. Spike sighs and pushes his bowl away and folds his arms across his chest and leans back in the chair.

“So, you got any big parties coming up?” asks Spike coolly.

Pinkie Pie frowns. “Spike, I'm kinda stuck in a nightmare in both worlds. I really don't know how to start a party right now.”

Spike cracks his knuckles and stands up, grinning. “Well, it looks like Spikey-Wikey is going to have to reteach Aunt Pinkie how to be happy again.”

In a small, dirty cell with a single light and a cot with a flimsy blanket and pillow, Pinakmena is swinging her hoof side to side like speedy metronome. She has her eyes closed and is singing in a childlike voice over an obnoxious clock.

Pinkamena continues singing her tune, her teeth and eyes glowing like Hell when she smiles at the ibex guards. She stops singing and leans closer to the bars of the cage so she can press her hooves against it.

“Do you guys want to know how Equestria was made?” she asks. When they give her nervous looks mixed with undeniable confusion, she snickers and reclines. “Oh, right, you can’t speak Equestrian. Darn it, I’m bored! I want something to happen! Where is Shocky? We have a date!”

Pinkamena stomps her hoof in a tantrum, and when the guards don’t give her the response she was hoping for, she groans and sits on her bed with her hooves folded across her barrel.

“You guys are no fun,” she pouts.

Trixie jolts awake with a gasp when her body feels sheets over her. Her eyes dart around the simple room, from the silk curtains to the oak dresser, and the ugly green carpet to the pictures of forests and mountains. She goes on to lifting up the sheets and sees she hasn’t been gunked up and she starts beating the sheets, hoping to Celestia that she won’t bop a sleeping pony. She sighs with relief when her hooves only beat out the pockets of air, then her relief turns to panic.

The last thing she remembers is yanking off the cuff and passing out in the abandoned building. She didn’t even think it was possible to force a horn cuff off, but she did it and now she has a burnt ring on the base of her horn because of it.

Trixie frowns and stares at her reflection as she gradually strokes the discolored area of her horn. She feels the stimulation of her horn getting rubbed, which she counts as a good sign, and sees the burnt color snaking along her horn ridges like veins. However, she is worried that her horn might be damaged even more now, considering what it has been through in the past few months.

Trixie huffs and slouches on the comfortable bed, not feeling tired or drained, but lazy. She doesn’t want to move, she wants to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling with nothing on her mind. She doesn’t want to think about her losing herself in rage, busting out of a hospital, how she is not in Inspector Gruber’s custody, or why she has a tendency to wake up in a room that isn’t hers after she does something drastic.

Trixie sighs heavily and curls up on the bed and tries to close her eyes again, but alas, her paranoia kicks in and her eyes snap open when she hears a ticking clock. She looks up and sees a hanging clock with the time being five oh five after noon. Trixie scowls and hops out of the bed with her ears folded back in a threatening manner.

When it turns to five oh six, she snorts and turns around, freezing for just a moment when she hears the door open behind her. In a flash, Trixie whirls back around and grabs an unsuspecting pegasus and slam her against the wall as her magic pushes the door shut.

“Who are you! Where am I! What do you want with me!” spouts Trixie in a harsh, breathless wave.

The pegasus is on the brink of tears and is shaking so much Trixie feels herself vibrating. The buttery pegasus whimpers and hides her face behind her oversized mane as she shrinks herself. She whimper-whispers something Trixie can’t quite understand, and when she demands answers again, she gets the same response after a terrified squeak, only it is slightly louder but not quite enough for her to make out any words.

Trixie’s eyes go half lidded and she releases the pegasus with an unimpressed sigh. “Look, you’re going to have to speak louder. I can’t understand a thing you’re saying.”

“I-I am Fluttershy,” stammers the pegasus quietly, “and-and you are um at um uh a nice place with friends, and I just want you to feel better.”

Trixie stares at the pegasus claiming to be Fluttershy and finds herself slowly piecing the pieces together. The name is familiar and she does look familiar, she just doesn’t know where she saw her before. Fluttershy looks back at Trixie, obviously becoming more uncomfortable by her staring and soon looks down, forcing a nervous cough. Trixie leans closer, stroking her chin and making Fluttershy step back as her scrutiny becomes increasingly more intense. It takes another couple of seconds for the light bulb to flash on in Trixie’s mind.

“I know who you are!” blurts Trixie as she points at Fluttershy with a broad grin, making her jump. “You’re that supermodel and the Element of Loyalty!”

Fluttershy blinks. “Um… Actually I’m the Element of Kindness,” she says in a nervous whisper as she hides her adorable eyes behind her wispy mane. Trixie’s face falls and she looks down at the floor, coughing and pawing the carpet nervously as a blush ravages her face. Fluttershy, seeing Trixie’s new state, offers a comforting smile and says in her soothing voice: “But I guess you could say I’m like the Element of Loyalty since I like to help all of my friends.”

Trixie barely looks up. “But I’m not your friend. So why did you help me?”

“Oh, um, well um I-I didn’t bring you in, but you’re a friend of Pinkie’s and a friend of hers is a friend of mine, so that makes us friends. If that is okay with you, I mean, since we don’t have to be if you’re uncomfortable about it. Would you like tea?”

“I hate tea,” grumbles Trixie as she stretches her back like a feline, grimacing when her back pops in such a way that reminded her of the time when she thought Pinkie Pie killed herself with a stretch. Fluttershy appears to be thinking of the suicidal stretch, too, since she is staring at Trixie with wide eyes. When Trixie straightens out with a blissful sigh, she feels at peace with her body. No pain. No aches or sores. It feels great! And it lasts for only five seconds before the pain returns. Upon their return Trixie cringes and limps towards her bed. “Where are my meds and gum? And do you have beer? I could really use a drink.”

Fluttershy looks down and paws the floor, keeping her eyes hidden. “Oh, well I don’t think mixing pills and alcohol is a good idea.”

Trixie’s head snaps towards Fluttershy. “Screw good ideas! Beer. Gum. Meds. Now! Pronto! Pronto!”

Trixie claps her hooves together in a chop-chop fashion, and just like a cue for a magic trick, the door is pushed open to where it bangs against the wall, making both mares jump and yelp in their own ways. Trixie gulps and steps back with her ears drooped as an upscale stallion wearing a simple suit stomps into the room, glaring fiery daggers at her behind his monocle. Fluttershy also steps back, using her mane as a shield as she backs away from him.

When he stops in front of Trixie, she chuckles nervously and offers a meek wave. “Hey, Fancy Pants.”

Without taking his eyes off of Trixie, he says: “Fluttershy, could be so kind as to excuse yourself for a moment.” His normal, laid back tone replaced with barely contained anger.

Fluttershy slips out of the room without a word and Fancy Pants uses his magic to close the door behind her. Trixie chuckles again and rubs the back of her neck, finding it hard to keep her eyes on the older stallion.

“So,” begins Trixie in a long drawl, “am I in trouble?”

Fancy Pants inhales deeply, then slowly exhales, still keeping his glare locked on Trixie’s eyes, making her whimper and take a step back.

Fluttershy reaches the bottom of the stairs, wincing when Fancy Pants starts screaming at Trixie. Luckily the radio is on so she can listen to something else other than screams.

“[-Guard is still searching for Herr Shniztel’s groundbreaking device, which was stolen under the cover of darkness nearly four nights ago. Chief Leuchten has vowed to continue the search using whatever means at his disposal-]”

Fluttershy turns the radio to a rock station and timidly walks into the living room where Iron Will is sitting on the couch with his pen in his mouth and a notepad in his massive hands. He is mumbling to himself and scribbling out whole lines on his pad to write something else. Fluttershy looks up at the ceiling when she hears Trixie yelling back and decides the best place to go will be by Iron Will’s side. She feels considerably safer around him, and the safe feeling only got more powerful after seeing what he did to the League of Justice ponies that attacked his house; though Fluttershy still feels sorry for Adanz after what happened when Iron Will got his hands on him.

Fluttershy hops on the couch next to Iron Will and snuggles up next to him. He wraps his arm around her and squeezes her against him. She closes her eyes and nuzzles her cheek against his rock hard chest. She tries to think about something other than the raging argument happening upstairs, like Iron Will’s steady breathing or strong fingers gently rubbing her mane.

When the yelling gets louder, the minotaur snorts and Fluttershy looks up at him worryingly while snuggling closer to him.

“Fancy owes me big time for this,” grumbles Iron Will. “I wonder what kind of payment plan he’ll accept. Express or Loser?”

“These people are dangerous!” screams Fancy Pants furiously with a stomp. “I told you that you were way in over your head and you nearly got yourself killed after almost flattening Buchtseite!”

“What did you want me to do!” yells Trixie back, hoof pointing at herself and tears in her eyes. “Andromeda had Monte!”

“Oh my goddess!” Fancy Pants runs his hoof through his mane and paces a half circle before bringing his eyes to Trixie. “Trixie, did it ever occur to you that Monte is a crook and player!”

“He was going to help me bring down Brisk Wind!”

“Oh right, Monte –a pervert and a criminal- was going to help you stop his employer!”

“Gilda was his employer!” snaps Trixie.

“And Gilda worked for Brisk Wind!” screams Fancy Pants, his well-kept mane now a sweaty mess and his monocle hanging loose. “It’s a ladder, Trixie! A ladder! And even if Monte decided to help you with Brisk Wind what next? Ponies like Brisk Wind just don’t go away! They have supporters and if you take her out, somepony will take her place and go after you until you are dead!”

Trixie snorts and sits on the bed with her hooves folded across her chest. “Right, because the shadows are her friend, or some bullshit like that.”

Fancy Pants jabs his hoof at Trixie. “Watch your mouth, young lady!”

“I’m an adult! I can swear if I want to!” whines Trixie childishly.

Fancy Pants takes breath in an attempt to recollect himself. “It’s not proper to swear,” he says as he gently cleans the lens of his monocle.

“You swore that one time!”

“And that was improper of me, but back on subject.” Fancy Pants puts his monocle on and stands in front of Trixie and stares at her with stern relief rather than anger. “You are coming home with me until we can sort this whole mess out. I got a private zeppelin that will get us out of here and-”

“No.”

Fancy Pants’ eyes return to being furious slits. “What?”

“I’m not going with you,” says Trixie boldly with a shake of her head. “Not without Pinkie.”

“And what is Pinkie doing here?”

“I don’t know; something about wanting to get me a cool birthday present.”

Fancy Pants raises an eyebrow. “A birthday present?”

Trixie nods and offers a flimsy smile. “Yeah, you know like a snow globe, or a puppy, or possibly a super cool suit of armor that I could use to-“

Fancy Pants swears loudly as he runs his hoof through his mane and starts pacing in circles, scolding over Trixie’s attempt to justify Pinkie’s reasoning for doing something so drastic. This goes on for another minute before Fancy Pants snaps towards Trixie.

“ENOUGH!” screams Fancy Pants, the volume and severity of his voice is enough to shake the room. “Trixie, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you-”

“Oh my goddess, quit trying to be my father!” interrupts Trixie. “You aren’t my father and you will never be my father!”

“Well maybe I should be because you don’t have one!”

“What the heck is that supposed to mean!”

Fancy Pants pauses and stares at Trixie with a mixed look, whether he is kicking himself or relieved, she cannot tell. The two unicorns stare at each other and Trixie motions him to speak, curiosity and annoyance getting the best of her. When he doesn’t speak she hops off of her bed and marches towards the stallion, eyes zeroing in his like crosshairs, and when she is in front of him she has to crane her head up to look at him, but that does nothing to falter her glare.

“What. The heck. Is that. Supposed to mean,” says Trixie crossly through gritted teeth.

“Your father wanted me to take care of you after he… passed on,” replies Fancy Pants.

Trixie scoffs. “I am finding that very hard to believe.”

Fancy Pants sighs and looks at the floor for a moment. “When he found out about your charity, he came to me and offered me a job, and over time it led me to becoming one of his most trusted associates.”

Trixie cocks her brow. “My father offered you -a hobo- a job? What kind of job? Window washer? Lawn mower? Accountant?”

“An enforcer.” Trixie’s jaw drops and Fancy Pants sits down, finding it difficult to keep his eyes on Trixie now. “If anypony gave him trouble, if somepony was behind on their payment, he would send me to make things right in his eyes. I became known as ‘Saint’ because I was apparently the nicest enforcer in town. I had put a generous amount of bits into savings, letting the interest accumulate and I invested in the market. By day I was your normal stallion trying to make a name in the market, by night I was Saint. If it wasn’t for getting arrested and meeting Fleur in rehab I would be dead by now, killed by the one who murdered your father.”

Trixie looks down with only one name playing in her mind: Roar Shock. She still has a hard time seeing Fancy Pants kicking down doors and beating the daylight out of someone for not paying or screwing with her father. However, as outlandish as his claim is, Trixie does believe it offers a strange reason for a homeless pony becoming a millionaire. He just used blood bits and played the market very well.

Trixie looks at Fancy Pants and he barely looks at her, his shame clear by the way he swallows and his eyes shine. That is when Trixie realizes that Fancy Pants is not lying to her. And if he was supposed to take care of her, he absolutely failed at it for a very long time. While he was in Canterlot, enjoying the high life and getting his fix of exquisite parties and fine wine, she was homeless. He didn’t have to sell his possessions or his body to get bits for an apple. He didn’t seek refuge only to come a breath away from being a sex slave. He didn’t unknowingly become part of a terrorist organization that murders and razes in the name of justice. For so long he enjoyed luxury with the promise of him taking care of her, and he hadn’t. She really wants to punch him now. She wants to bust his teeth and shatter that stupid monocle of his and toss him down the stairs like what the only pony that took take care of her in her time of need did to Sunshine.

Trixie’s skeptical expression hardens to disdain. “You did a great job looking out for me,” she snarls.

Fancy Pants looks down again, swallowing tears. “I’m sorry.”

“But since you and my father were chumps, is there anything else I should know before I bust your mouth?” says Trixie, fighting every second to keep herself from carrying out her threat.

Fancy Pants swallows. “The day before your father died, he came to my house, and when I saw him, I thought he was going to kill me for leaving his business. But he didn’t.”

“What did he do?”

“He cried.” Trixie stares at him skeptically, and her eyes fall to his jacket pocket when he pulls out an envelope with her name written in her father’s sloppy writing. “He told me that he had only wanted to make you strong, but ended up pushing you away. He talked about how he saw the rage and sorrow and grief of his greatest enemy and you every night. He couldn’t sleep. His prayers were unanswered, and to this day I still do not know what he was talking about when he mentioned a faceless pony. All I know is that if somepony hadn’t ended him he would’ve taken his own life.”

Trixie immediately thinks about Custos and his simple design, and wonders why he had talked to her father. She now finds the urge to grab some sleeping pills just so she can force herself to sleep and demand answers from her supernatural stalker.

“But,” says Fancy Pants as he levitates the envelope to Trixie, “on that night he asked me to take care of you, to make sure you didn’t follow in his steps and to become somepony better than him. I promised him I would. Then he gave me that envelope and told me to give it to you.”

Trixie’s eyes narrow and she yanks the envelope away with her magic and waves it in front of Fancy Pants, teeth gritted, nostrils flaring and horn sparking. “Took you long enough. Why didn’t you give this to me when I was at your house?”

“I wanted to, but I felt it was best to wait until you calmed down to show you. But now that we are here and you are becoming increasingly more volatile, I feel that I have no choice but to give it to you now, rather than in the comfort of your home. Hopefully it will knock some sense into you.”

Trixie stares at the envelope, remembering when she burned the last one her father sent to her. She never thought about what was in it, she only knew that her father would rather send an old mare to find her than come get her himself. She exhales deeply through her nose with the contemplation of what she should do with the letter busies her mind. She doesn’t know if she should burn it like the last one, put it away and forget about it or open it and see what the fuss is about.

Trixie looks at Fancy Pants while the stallion motions her to open it. Trixie’s expression hardens to disgust, and without taking her eyes off of her supposed guardian she ruthlessly tears open the envelope and pulls out an aged piece of paper. She stares at it for a second before her hardened eyes widen and swell with tears. The note has definitely been written by her father, she would recognize his horrible writing anywhere, but what surprises her is that there are dried tear blots dotting the sheet.

Trixie,

I know this is something you don’t want to see. I know you don’t want anything to do with me and I cannot blame you. Nopony should blame you for disconnecting yourself from me for the fault is mine and mine alone. But know this, I have always loved you, even one the days when it seemed that I didn’t. Celestia knows that I wish I could take back all the things I’ve said and done to you, but I cannot and for that I have spent my nights wishing I could take it all back. I have failed you and I have failed your mother. You are not a disgrace to the Lulamoon family, I am. You rose to the challenge of your exile and made yourself known. You have fans. I have enemies. You are free. I am chained. Ponies will do things for you because they love you, whereas they will do things for me because they fear me. But out of all my failures, my biggest was with you. I was not the father I should have been and for that I have lost the most important pony in my life. But I am still proud of you because in spite of all the trials set before you, you rose above them. You created your own path and that is the greatest trial of all. I wish we could get together so I could mend what I broke, but I fear that by the time you get this I will be dead. We will never see each other again for I have been denied forgiveness for my sins. Paradise was meant for you and your mother, but not for me. As a final gift to you, I have left an inheritance and a villa in the Unicorn Ridge in your name that is free for you to take when you please. The villa is off the books and hidden in the Saint Star Mountain, it will be marked with the family crest, and the inheritance at the Royal Canterlot Bank. I have left the keys and the deed in the care of Fancy Pants. He will take care of you as you have of him. I know these gifts will never amount to my mistakes, but whereas I made your past is bleak, I hope that I can at least make your future bright.

Forgive me and love always,

Your Father

Trixie falls to the floor, lips quivering and tears trickling down her cheeks as she puts her hoof to her mouth to hide her labored breathing. She refuses to put the letter down, and her eyes skim over it again and again in loops. She would finish then go right back to the top. The more she reads, the more suffocating her grief becomes.

“In his first letter he gave you an address,” begins Fancy Pants. “He waited for you for a month there. He refused to leave and spent his nights staring out the window. He fell asleep on his chair waiting for you. He only left when he had to be hospitalized from lack of sleep and near suicidal behavior when Mrs. Aural returned and told him that you burnt the letter without opening it.”

Trixie drops the letter and slouches against her bed with her eyes closed, but it doesn’t stop the torrent of tears soaking her face. Fancy Pants sighs sadly and puts his hoof on her shoulder, but she still doesn’t open her eyes.

“Look, Trixie, I know I came off crass, but-”

“Just leave me alone,” sniffles Trixie, eyes still closes and trying to stave off more tears. When Fancy Pants doesn’t move Trixie’s horn glows and the door opens up and she slowly opens her eyes, now bloodshot and glistening with sadness and anger in the light. “I want to be alone.”

Fancy Pants and Trixie stare at each other without a word, and the longer Fancy Pants stays the more Trixie’s lips tremble and the more her eyes water. She begs him to leave, her voice cracking and quivering, and Fancy Pants hugs her, but she doesn’t return it. She doesn’t feel like she deserves a hug and she certainly doesn’t want to hug Fancy Pants after his stellar failure.

Fancy Pants keeps his embrace and rubs Trixie’s back for a few more seconds before he quietly leaves the room. When the door clicks shut Trixie closes her eyes and bangs her head against the side of the bed.

When Trixie opens her eyes, her coat is caked in trails of dried tears and the letter has fresh droplets spreading the ink. She is disappointed that she didn’t see Custos, or dream the smallest of dreams. All she saw was an unending void of darkness. No noise. No light. Nothing existed and she was stuck there for hours. She hears the hushed voices downstairs, talking about something she can’t understand, but she has a feeling it is about her.

Trixie swallows tears that tried to escape and looks down at the letter again. Her eyes have become numb from her crying and rereading the same sentences over and over again. She hears her father’s anguished voice reciting the letter and she can picture him with a glass of alcohol to stave his misery as he wrote it. But the two words stand out the most in the letter for her are: Forgive me.

Trixie lifts up the letter and stares at those two words, remembering when Custos put her in her father’s hooves. She remembers the blood in his lungs when he screams after his last piece of memory of them as a family is crushed under Roar Shock’s hooves. She remembers him begging the world and their goddess for forgiveness, but only receiving silence and a brutal execution. The fear and pain was real, but she now knows what Custos meant when he said that Eclipse was dead before he was murdered.

Trixie closes her eyes again and rests her head against the bed. She wants to sleep again so she can talk to Custos and bite his faceless head off for not telling her that he and her father talked. However, as she is trying to sleep, her ears pick up a piece of the conversation below that piques her interest.

Cocking her head and carefully standing up, Trixie silently approaches the stairs and sits down to listen, being sure to keep her presence hidden from the others.

“-And now she’s being held at the Buchtseite Guard Station?” asks Fancy Pants.

“Station One. Yeah,” says someone with an energetic voice perfect for self-help seminars. “She was transferred there. I guess the nurses didn’t like the nut. No offense, Flutters.”

Trixie cocks her brow slightly and strains her ears to understand what the timid pegasus is saying, but she barely hears a shushed whisper. Trixie reluctantly inches closer to the opening and peeks down. She sees Fancy Pants sitting on the couch, swirling a drink in his magical grip Fluttershy sitting near the radio, sipping a juice box and watching the scene, and a minotaur sitting across from Fancy Pants, also holding a cup of milk, a massive cup of milk.

“Iron Will, is it possible for us to get Pinkie out?” asks Fancy Pants.

“I don’t think they’ll just give her up since she killed a dozen people and attacked the guards,” replies the minotaur in such a casual way that it disgusts Trixie to the core.

“But she’ll be safe there?”

“Well, she should be since that place is a fortress. Literally, it was a fortress used by General Scroll before it became a guard station.”

Fluttershy puts her juice box on the radio stand and awkwardly raises her hoof as her eyes shift between the talking entertainment moguls.

“Um, I don’t think she’ll be safe there,” she says quietly. Her ears droop and she inches away with her head down when Fancy Pants and Iron Will look at her, and she paws the ground as the uncomfortable staring becomes more so.

“And why is that?” asks Fancy Pants.

“Well um the news talked about her move a lot and when Iron Will’s house was attacked it was by the same ponies that attacked Ponyville. They are really determined to get Pinkie and I just don’t think that they would care if she was locked in a guard station, they would still try to hurt her.”

Fancy Pants sighs irritably and slouches on the couch. “Lovely. Pinkie pisses… annoys some terrorists, Trixie plays with fire and we’re caught in the middle.” Fancy Pants thinks for a moment. “Why don’t they release Pinkie Pie? I think it is fairly obvious that what happened was a case of self-defense.”

Iron Will looks at Fancy Pants grimly. “It’s not that simple. First, there is her being a psycho-”

Trixie’s sneaks back to her room when Iron Will starts explaining technicalities. Once in her room she looks at the sheets and realizes that they are all a shade of purple, and when she goes in the closet she finds an assortment of mostly useless stuff, like self-esteem and pegasus fitness books, but she does find a pair of binoculars, pegasus goggles and a sewing kit. The sewing kit has Fluttershy’s cutie mark on it and some fancy calligraphy that says “To: Fluttershy From: Rarity Happy Birthday!” with a heart etched on it. Trixie snorts, opens it up and grins when she sees that it is a full set complete with a beginner’s guide. She looks at her bed, then at her door, and finally at the kit. Her smile becomes mischievous and the door locks with a glow of her horn and she turns towards the sheets with the kit tools levitating next to her.

Fancy Pants walks up to Trixie’s room a few hours later, hoping she is well enough for them to have a decent conversation. He hates telling her the news, but he really sees no other option. They must leave Bernese without Pinkie Pie if they ever hope to leave the country safely. He presses his ear against the door and figures she is resting when he doesn’t hear anything. Normally he would let someone rest, especially after so many trying days, but they need to leave now before the guards figure out where she is, and he can’t let them take her away. He won’t.

Fancy Pants takes a deep breath and gently knocks on the door. “Trixie, are you awake?”

Silence.

Fancy Pants knocks again and tries to open the door, but finds that it is locked. He frowns and with a bit of magical tinkering, the door unlocks and he pushes it open, hoping to Celestia that he is not interrupting anything. However, once he steps inside, he finds the room completely empty, the bed sheets torn to shreds, parts of a sewing kit scattered all over the floor and the window wide open with the curtains fluttering in the wind. There is also an empty container of pain pills and binoculars lying on the ground.

Fancy Pants pales and runs towards the window and looks every which direction he could for any sign of the azure mare, but all he sees is the darkness of a sleeping city. He swears and bangs his hoof on the window sill and is about to leave when he notices something in the distance. The only brightly lit building is a fortress overlooking the city. He levitates the binoculars to his eyes and zooms in on the building sign. Buchtseite Garde Wache 1.

Fancy Pants scowls and throws the binoculars to the ground. “Oh that girl!” He then runs out of the room, yelling: “Iron Will, get your wagon!”

Author's Notes:

Made some slight changes after realizing I overlooked something I should not have.