Author's Notes:

Christmas is near. And so am I!

Enjoy. :D

EDIT 12/27/15: Christmas came. So did I! Sorry if the ending seems cheesy and rushed. :C

Forgive me for how long it took. Christmastime always slows me down. Oh, and I got an Xbox One and we bought Fallout 4. c:

Enjoy! (again)

A month had passed.

Sure, one could go into details about how a month was full of the littlest of details, how important one hour was and how worthless things are the next.

But that's all the month was. Worthless hope.

For a month, nothing had changed in Ponyville. Ponies continued to go about their lives, buy each other's food, share each other's lives and love. A few of the Guard patrolled the town, through the skies, a heavy eye on every corner.

All the way in Manehattan, ponies were still foolish enough to look for Swift. Everypony who tried never came back. That simply showed how clever and perceptive Swift Shadow had become in his time of secrecy. But with the ever increasing security as a result of his actions, it was only a matter of time before they would find him, and a matter of time before he would be brought to justice for everyone he ever killed.

But who knew how long something such as that would take? A month? A year? A decade? For all they knew, Manehattan would be a completely separate country by then because they were too slow to notice he took over as the mayor, and they would be even more foolish to not notice him slip beneath the princesses, and the next thing they knew, he was ruling Equestria with an iron hoof.

There were many thoughts, many speculations---many fears as to what this Swift figure would do, should he ever take control of anything---a city or a country. Would he kill everyone who opposed him? Exile them? Would he make the place better than what the princesses had made it or worse than before?

As soon as he got back to town, those questions sprung up across Ponyville like wildfire. Some who didn't mind the events that happened several hundred miles away simply carried on with their lives like normal ponies. Whoever was more paranoid than others locked themselves up in their homes, boards and all.

But Celestia and Luna---yes, even Twilight---did their best to assure their 'little ponies' that the situation was well in hoof. Did they believe that? Yes, in a way.

Did the princesses themselves believe it?

They wanted to.

For Dash, she didn't care about Swift anymore. She cared about her friends, her family, and just as importantly, him. For the now month he had been in a seemingly permanent coma, there had been only the slimmest of changes, a minor of the major.

The food they had fed him even here was working whatever magic it had been given, as well as time itself. Within the first week after the incident, his bruises had started to heal, fade away. His face was looking much better.

Less broken.

His...wounds--they also started to heal. According to doctors, it would have taken a few weeks to a few months at best for them to heal at a regular pace. With the introduction of the induced foods, they expected his wounds to be healed fully within another half month. Already, they were beginning to look better, but also beginning to scar.

He breathed a bit more calmly throughout the month. With the pace he currently breathed, it was almost as if he really was just sleeping.

Rainbow wanted to believe he was sleeping for today and he would wake tomorrow.

A day passed, and it wasn't the case.

The mare returned to her job the day after returning to town a month ago. Spitfire didn't penalize her or punish her as she had somewhat feared---but she knew Spitfire wasn't that cruel.

Instead, her boss showed sympathy for her, sorrow even. She wished her friend a speedy and hopeful recovery---it made Rainbow smile, grin even. It was the first time in a while that she grinned.

Her stigma around town lessened over the weeks. It wasn't as apparent as it had been initially, but some ponies still expressed their hatred or simple negativity towards her. One pony selling asparagus told her to "Go look somewhere else."

But she was relieved no one tried to vandalize her home or hurt her in a way. Despite their ways of hatred, there was never a case in Ponyville, not even in a time like this, where it got to a point of killing someone as a way of justice. The time would come when things would settle down and mistakes would be forgiven and forgotten---even the ones that were not intended.

She was sure the mistake of 'leading a friend to near death' was beyond the verge of unintentional.

On the days she didn't work, such as today, Dash would stay in the hospital, sitting beside her friend for a couple of hours, well into the 'few' range. After that, she was give him a kiss goodbye and head off to visit her friends. Some days, they would all hang out for a short time at Sugarcube Corner. It was pretty much the only way for all of them to hang out or even be together.

But they planned to be together more often, even after Sugarcube Corner. For now, though, it was just the shop.

Walking from the hospital to the Corner took a little less than ten minutes; a minute by flight.

Dash decided to walk, however. She had done so most of the time since she came back. Sure, she could fly there if she wanted to, but how would she make amends with everyone she upset by flying everywhere? There was a time for flying and trotting.

It was time to trot.

It was always time for Dash.

But today, it was ready to rain, so Dash walked all the way to the Corner without anyone but the Guard outside. The place barely seemed alive, but at the same time, it was.

The pegasus made it to the Corner and inside just as the first drops touched down. Within seconds, everything outside was drenched. Lightning flashed outside in the distance; the roar of thunder followed seconds later, sometimes even instantly. Dash could feel the coldness of the rain brush against her fur, making her shiver for a few moments, before she finally shut the door.

When she was warm enough, she made her way to the back room, into the kitchen. Even though there were tables in the main room---installed only two months ago---they never sat in any of them. Pinkie had made a request to build another table in the kitchen area---think the kind at a restaurant---for all eight of them to sit in. It had been build in an empty corner of the place, and despite attempts to fill it in, Pinkie didn't think it was enough.

To her, the table was just what it needed. Not only that, but she saw it as their own private eating area! No one to bother them or interrupt them; they could eat in peace, alone with each other, and have fun when the time arises.

Such as today---if fun could even be possible still.

When she entered the kitchen, she noticed the girls all sitting there still, talking quiet. The majority of their smiles were more of comfort instead of simple cheer. Not much of a surprise, but it always made Dash glad they strove to take care of each other.

Pinkie was the first to notice Rainbow walk in.

"Dashie," she began, "Hey."

It was common that Pinkie had called her that. She started calling her that not long after they first met, and up until he came into her life, Pinkie was the only one who said it.

It also became even more apparent after she came back to town that Pinkie had seemed less...cheery and more---normal. Pinkie was known by everyone to be the party girl of the town; she made parties for everyone who entered, lived, and left town. She baked and ate desserts anytime she wished, but the most part was her personality. There were some ponies who thought she was too crazy, others thought it wasn't enough.

But after Manehattan, Pinkie was normal. There was no crazy "Oh my gosh, Dashie, hi!" or insane bouncing as she walked over to Dash.

It was a simple, comforting smile and a gentle walk over.

It worried Dash, but she knew why her friend even acted such.

The two mares hugged and headed over to sit with the rest. As what they had usually done, the others greeted her with kind smiles and a caring, "How are you?" from Twilight.

"I'm good," Rainbow replied, nodding, returning her own smile.

Despite the unchanging month, Dash did her best to lift her spirits. It only worked somewhat, but it was enough to get her to smile more often. Even when Pinkie had changed almost entirely, she still tried to cheer herself up as well, and they could all see it. Every now and then, Sugarcube Corner would look bland for a time, then there would be a brief party that lasted for a few hours, enough to get everyone in the spirit.

And when the party died, so did the streamers and said spirit. Pinkie made it a routine to have a party at least once a week, just to get herself worked up and bouncy.

Her friends were glad her efforts helped her cope. The last thing they wanted was their friend to spiral into depression.

Fluttershy, while still shocked, was more or less the same as usual. She acted almost as if nothing had ever happened, nothing had changed her. She was obviously aware of the situation, but she did her best not to have it affect her. Sure, the others had done the same---or at least tried---but Fluttershy coped the best.

Applejack rarely smiled. She wanted to act like everything was okay---but something continued to eat at her. She casually said it was just depression after everything that happened. But Dash knew it was more than that. As everyone had been aware of, she confessed about her little fling that she had with him. Despite the initial shock---and from Rarity's case, disappointment in a way---they were understanding of whatever guilt plagued her. Why wouldn't she have felt guilty? She was his first time, she took him away from Dash and risked ruining any potential future they would have had together.

But it wasn't just that of the relationship, it was the incident too. She almost lost someone she really loved, even more than just a friend. Losing him would have torn her apart, especially after the closeness they shared in that week alone.

Dash knew it was not only depression, as she had stated, but the guilt. But she knew Applejack was a strong mare; there would be the time when she would accept the situation, accept the past, and look up to the future.

It was a silly and cheesy thought---but it helped.

Rarity followed Fluttershy's approach. She didn't let the incident affect her, even while one of her friends lay unresponsive. She continued to make dresses in that big boutique of hers, talking to her little sister or putting her to bed at night, and making business as usual. She tried to live life to her fullest---as if tomorrow would have been her last. The tragedy left her shaken---but at the same time, it left her inspired.

Twilight was more or less the same as she had been a month ago, and during that one week. She was the same amount of shocked as the others, but she learned to cope earlier. Being with Cobalt and constantly chattering with him helped too. Their talks even started rumors between the five girls about them going out or not. They weren't really going out, as Twilight had stated and assured to be true---but the girls wanted to believe it. Even if he had been twenty years older than her, they seemed to make a good couple to them. Other than the silly rumors and the talks, Twilight did her best to keep herself normal for her friends, but also keep focused when it came to any assignment that Celestia had assigned to her, even if one such task included anything doing with Manehattan. She wanted to be ready, no matter what came her way. He would want that.

Then there was Spike.

Spike was...he was different since leaving Manehattan. not different in a way that one would think he was a 'weirdo'. When he left the city, he was always staring forward, always seemed---confused.

Then a month passed, and he's different. Not normal, not worse, just...different.

"How's the counseling going?" Dash asks the young dragon.

A brief nod while sipping his coffee---something he more commonly did throughout the month---he replies with:

"Good. I'm getting better."

A week following his return to town, Spike was sent off to a Rehab clinic not far from town. It was a new building that had been built not more than a year ago. There, ponies, dragons, griffons, and anyone who had a sentient mind could go there and be lead by a counselor. At first, they thought the counseling wasn't working---but as the days went on, his behavior improved---not so much that he was back to his pip-cheery self as he had been a month ago, but that he started to talk more, smile more.

Better yet, stop staring.

He stopped looking confused.

He was getting there---slowly, but surely. They could all see it.

But they weren't sure if he would ever be normal, regardless of how many months or years would come to pass.

And that thought alone brought Rainbow right back to him.

Would he be normal again?

The question circulated in her mind over and over again, day after day, week after week, and soon enough, for all she knew---month after month and year after year.

She hoped the year wouldn't end with him still where he is.

His condition---sure, it improved, he was breathing better, his face was cleaner and less bruised, and from what the doctors said, his brain's swelling dropped. It was progress, but was it even helping?

What if his brain was normal and he was still in a coma? What if his ret...reticle...

What if the thing that made him open his eyes and look at her was permanently damaged? What if he would never wake up? What if they decided to stop trying and pull the plug?

No, Rainbow thought to herself. They've saved him this far.

She kept believing. It kept her going all month.

She wasn't going to stop now.

For an hour, the seven of them had what they tried to consider a regular conversation, and it worked to an extent. It wasn't a cringe-worthy mess, there were smiles and laughs, jokes to be had. Of course, the emotions came slightly whenever any form of talk emerged about the month in particular, but they did their best to hope that the next month would be better, and the month after that.

When the rain finally lifted up, they all decided to stake a stroll in the town, as long as the sun was shining. It wasn't long after they left the Corner that other ponies began to leave their houses. Not as often as a month prior, ponies would still occasionally take quick glances at Rainbow, some of frustration, others of sympathy.

Sympathy for who? That was the question she asked. Were they feeling sorry for her or him?

She ignored it.

For another half hour or longer, the seven of them would walk around the town, past the Town Hall, past the Boutique, past the now filled in grounds of the Golden Oak Library, and once again find themselves back at Sugarcube Corner; then they would go around again, but go different paths, all while carrying conversations. With the return to town, talk was new and always fresh for the next day.

Did you hear what they said about that one mare?

I hear Caramel's dating that one stallion down at the barber.

Aren't Cheerilee and Big Mac getting married soon?

The last question there was rather new. Still about the same ponies, only this time, the rumors were true. Applejack couldn't refuse talking about it. In fact, she was glad to talk about it.

"Eeyup," she began, carried over from Big Mac. "Next month, actually."

Eyes went wide.

"Really?" Twilight asked in an excited manner. "Congratulations!"

A chuckle from her, Applejack added, "Yeah. Ah actually didn't even know they were together until at least a few months ago. From what Ah heard, they've been goin' on for about a year."

The mare then went on, saying that she did have her suspicions that they were already going on, but it was as if they were afraid to come out and say anything.

"I'm sure they had their reasons," Twilight remarked.

As she said that, however, Applejack leaned over to her friend and whispered, "Ah've got a hunch it has somethin' to do with a couple a' fillies."

It didn't take long to know exactly who she was referring to. She remembered the last time the Crusaders were involved in anything having to do with the couple. It almost ended in complete shambles.

From what Applejack mentioned, neither Apple Bloom or the others really did anything to enhance or improve their celebration, just celebrated instead---very much aware of their past actions.

Nonetheless, the girls---and Spike, even---were thrilled at the couple's success, smiling and giggling and even giving Applejack a pat on the back---despite her not really having done anything related to it, but it was rather pats for them, instead, but it still made Applejack smile.

"...I hope he's awake to see it," Dash spoke out.

It didn't ruin the conversation or make it depressing. Sure, there was the hint of sadness, but they wanted to keep going as normally as they could.

"Me too," Twilight replied, "Him and Big Mac were always good friends---even when he would mess up his chores a few times."

While most of his mishaps and screw ups were found as annoying or frustrating to the rest of the town, there were only very few memories that were enough to make the group laugh. Some of his mistakes were almost on a comedic level, that it even made some of the town-folk laugh at a time.

Dash was never sure if those ponies were laughing because it was funny or because they were simply laughing at him.

Nonetheless, she giggled because it was funny.

She just wished before didn't get carried away.

When they finished their discussions and had enough of a walk for the day, the girls dispersed. Fluttershy went home, Pinkie went back to the Corner, Rarity went back to her Boutique, Applejack returned to the orchard, and Twilight and Spike both returned to the castle.

But Dash didn't go back home for now. Like always---she returned to the hospital to see him.

It was her routine for the days she was free. See him, see the others, then when they left, see him again. Someone could call her visits to the hospital addictive or just worrying too much, seeing as he was in the best of care.

She didn't mind any rumors that could potentially start from that; she was there because she cared about him, and for all she knew, he could either wake up the next day or die today.

And she wanted to be by his side, no matter what happened.

No matter if she would stand beside him to hug him, smile with him, and never let him go---

---or if she would stand next to his coffin as it lowered into the ground.

No matter what.

Dash got back to the hospital in less time than usual. Gently floating rather than fly, she got back in less than five minutes time. As always, the doctors and nurses at the front greeted her with kind smiles, as did she back to them. Walking down the corridors and hallways, it wasn't long before she was back in his room.

Just like always, she expected to see him up and awake, eyes open, mouth moving, smile looming over her.

Merely far-fetched expectations.

That's all they were to her.

Expectations.

When she sat back in her seat, she sighed. With clearer of a conscience, she looked forward to the door. She didn't smile, didn't frown. It was just in the middle.

And it stayed like that for a minute as she looked on to nothing. Breathing in and out with a slow sniff and a slow 'phew'.

When the time came, she spoke up.

Spoke to him.

She didn't care---just like always.

If he heard, he heard.

"Big Mac and Cheerilee..." she began and paused briefly before continuing. "...They're getting married next month."

She looked over, almost expecting a response or movement.

Nothing.

She looked back to the door and continued.

"He really misses you, you know...Big Mac."

For a brief time, she smiled and chuckled.

"Guy like that...tough as nails---quietest pony in town..."

The smile faded.

"I've never seen him so emotional from it. Not just from this, you being where you...where you are...but..."

Another moment later, Dash sighed down. Looking back to him, she showed concern.

Sadness.

It was common whenever she came here; everyone saw it, but never talked about it. They let it happen, and she let it happen.

She continued.

"...He told us he always wanted you to come...see him get married.....When he realized that's probably not gonna happen, he..."

Again, she looked away.

Then she looked down the floor, past her legs, onto the cold marble.

With a blank stare---or what some would have called a blank stare---she finished her words.

"...He just cried."

She wanted to also.

Her words weren't very far from the truth. Upon the news that Big Mac had received, he was one of the many in town who shared their grief, but he shared it the most.

Despite his clumsy tendencies, him and Big Macintosh got along well not long after he entered town. Even when he would mess up at times, Big Mac wouldn't hold a grudge against him.

"Even when they try to help themselves, they can't," he once said.

On the days they were free, they would go out into town and have a good time with other stallions or simply get a few drinks at the local bar. On some occasions, Big Mac would come home drunk, but every time they went there, he would have no more than three drinks. He always had a limit for himself.

He once said:

"The last thing I want is to be shit-faced and walk into an alley to get stabbed to death."

Dash found a bit of irony in that quote.

Even with that idea in his mind, he ended up walking into an alley----he ended up getting stabbed.

Sure, he didn't die and he wasn't drunk out of his mind, but...

It didn't stop her from seeing it, though.

Sniffing in her tears---she didn't want to cry now---she laid back in her seat and breathed in and out slowly, trying to relocate the peace in her mind. Another routine of hers.

It wasn't long before she was calm again.

New record, she thought, even smiling to herself.

Every day, she would do the same thing if she was on the verge of breaking into tears. Every day, she would do it in less time than the previous.

Soon enough, it was likely she wouldn't have to do it at all.

Brushing her own mane for a moment, she reached into her satchel----one she had carried around every day all month----and took out her Daring Do book.

The month was almost done, and so was the chapter she had started no more than a week ago.

Without a second thought, she began to read.

"Even with her companions at her side and faith within her mind, nothing could prepare her for the common enemy..."

Swift laid back in his chair. Another whiff of cigarette smoke, and he blew it away into the air.

The boss had suffered many setbacks all month. Intruders had been coming in through the sewers one by one every other day, maybe every other few days, and trying to catch a glimpse of his work, only to go and spoil it for everyone else and risk him losing everything he worked so hard to achieve.

But it didn't stop him.

For the twelfth time this month, Swift opened up his journal, turned the page, and put the nearly fortieth name on it, stamping his recent victim's blood---just as his workers dragged the the now pale corpse off to wherever they so chose.

What they did was none of Swift's concern, boss or not. The bodies never stayed, and whether or not the corpse was once that of a stallion or a mare---they didn't care about gender----his men always got the relief they craved.

His men weren't horny idiots, far from it, but the thought of being away from a mare---or a stallion---for so long gets them...heated up. Of course, when things are heated enough, one of his men are likely to please a few more.

But he didn't care to hear it. What they did was their business.

He had other things to attend to.

Such as his work.

The setbacks, as said before, pushed Swift's plans back further and further. A day, a week, a month.

For all he knew, it would be another few months before he was ready.

But for all he knew of that, the Guard might already know where he'd be hiding, then they would come running in, swords at the ready and their own firepower blazing forward.

And what would become of him? Captured and left to rot in a penitentiary? Sent to Death Row to die a week later?

Killed here, right on the spot?

No.

No, he wouldn't let it come to that.

They would be ready. They would have their firepower, their explosives, their barriers all at the ready.

He would be sure of it.

He would be sure that Manehattan was his.

And soon enough, with the support and inspiration he lays down on every civilian, he will have a city full of soldiers, full and ready to take to the deserts and take Canterlot.

And once they do that---then comes every other town and city.

Including that backwater Ponyville.

But of course---it was nothing more than simple expectations.

Swift knew well of the stallion's town. It was a place that he had resided as a young child, once. The ponies there, oh---they were all kind to him. They loved him, treated him with care, just like any other filly or colt residing.

And then he saw those princesses.

He didn't hate them like some ponies; there were ponies who merely wanted to cut their throats simply because they found enjoyment; simply for no such reason.

But Swift didn't hate them for that.

He merely hated their beliefs.

He hated their...abilities.

When it came to the hatred of beliefs, he hated the thought of them thinking and believing that they should be the ones to decide the raising and the lowering of the sun and the moon; it didn't matter if it was their special talents. The sun and the moon would very much move on their own long after they were gone. They just believe they can play Gods and Goddesses whenever they so damn chose!

And it wasn't just those abilities that he hated.

It was the ones that he feared.

Celestia---she rose and lowered the sun every day and every night, and she could do it whenever she felt like doing so.

Luna---the same would go for the moon.

Now there rose one simple question that Swift had asked himself every single day and every single night.

What would stop them from killing everything?

He thought.

Celestia, at any point she wished---if she was angry at the world or became an evil tyrant---could let the sun stand high forever and let the grass and the trees die away, her little ponies stroke and die under its relentless rays. And in the events of a tyrant sun----the surface would be scorched clean.

Luna, at any point she wished---for the same reasons, or so her accursed Nightmare Moon would return---could encase the land in eternal night. The grass and the trees would die, along with crops, corn, wheat---the world would freeze over and it would snow for as long as she wanted it.

To some, it was a stupid and idiotic thing to worry about.

To Swift, they were nothing more than ticking time bombs, ready to go off when the provocation was enough.

What would stop one from using their magic to their own gain? What would stop them?

If civilization ended because they were too weak---history would no longer matter.

And that was the main thing the boss saw in those princesses.

They were weak---ripe for the taking.

But he---

---he was strong.

He was collective.

He was fit to be a true leader.

But the ones who lived to ruin it all was not helping his goal, but destroying the likelihood of it ever coming true, and the risk of devastation to the land coming ever so close.

The sooner his work was finished...

The quicker he can defuse the weak soon-to-be tyrants...

And the better he can make the world.

But of course...

It was nothing more than...expectations.

And that's all they would ever be.

Simple.

Pure.

Expectations.