Chapter 3: Insidious Mentality

Darkness, pain, loneliness, solitude. That pressing buzz of a hazy electrical swelling in the head where the consciousness should be. Absently, a certain stricken alicorn's life force returned to him, slowly, dimly, like dwindling embers, yet sure as day was light, it was there.

“Uhhh…” Groaned Cantor as he attempted to open his eyes. “Oghhhhh…” He continued to moan as his consciousness slowly returned to him. It quickly became apparent that he was in bed. He could feel the rough sheets wrapped tightly around him, the firm mattress beneath his back. The feeling seemed vacant, yet he could still somehow work out that he wasn’t in his own bed; he couldn’t feel Twilight’s warmth next to him where he lay. A few gruelling minutes passed before he managed to open his eye a crack. The room was indistinct, yet it was a strong brown colour as if some sort of muddy light bulb was the only thing illuminating the room.

Ever slowly, Cantor’s left eye edged further and further open until he could identify a little more depth of the room; there were other objects: chairs, a table. He became aware of a regular electronic beeping somewhere above him. His mouth was painfully dry and he felt ravenously hungry all of a sudden. With several more wheezing breaths, the alicorn managed to wake himself up enough to open his eyes fully, and as he did, the sensation of somepony tugging at the backs of his eyes came into play. He squinted and the pain became dull. He stared around the bright room, confused as to why it appeared so intensely light when the thick brown curtains were drawn and the door was closed and there were no other obvious sources of light in the room at the time.

Cantor gazed around, completely lost as to how he got here and when. “First of all,” Cantor thought to himself, “Where is ‘here’?” He slowly surveyed the room. It was small, no bigger than Twilight’s bathroom and the most distinguishing feature was the large ceiling fan which spun rapidly above, whipping up the air and blowing the dry air about the sealed room. On the walls, there rested two watercolour landscapes, one depicted some kind of meadow and another of an old – timely looking water mill which had become overgrown with weeds and algae. Cantor didn’t pay much attention to the paintings, but noticed bars on the side of his bed and quickly made the assumption that he was in hospital. “Wha-“ He tried to speak, but his mouth and throat was so dry, all he managed was a dusty wheeze.

He scoured around the bed and his eyes rested on a metal trolley with a large jug of water on it to the right. Summoning the strength to lift his foreleg, he grievously reached for the jug, ignoring the two glasses which resided next to it, Cantor grabbed the handle and drew it back onto his chest. Now the water was in sight, it became even more of a desperation to drink it. Subconsciously or not, Cantor found out that he could no longer breathe, and he quickly and shakily raised the spout of the jug to his mouth. He threw his head back and gulped down the room temperature water like he had been left in the desert for a week. It pained him to drink, every time he swallowed it felt like somepony was stabbing him in the neck. Though he quickly decided that putting up with this for a few more seconds would be better than suffocating.

As he drank frantically, half of the water that went into his mouth ended up running down his chin and onto his neck and all over his pillows, but again, he didn’t care, and he never stopped guzzling down the water until the vast jug was empty. Panting heavily, and a lot more smoothly, Cantor let his foreleg fall limp, allowing it to drop to his side, the last dregs of water spilled out onto the bed sheets and onto the floor. But Cantor didn’t even notice, instead, his eyes were fixated on the abundance of get well soon cards and beautiful flowers on the side table.

He shook the plastic jug off of his foreleg and didn’t notice it clatter loudly onto the thin carpeted floor. He reached out and pulled over the only card he could reach. It was a portrait card, more long than wide and the picture on the front made him smile. The cover of the card showed a caricature of a unicorn foal sucking his hoof with a bandaged head. Under the cute little colt read the words simply ‘Get well soon’. Cantor took another look at the card before opening it. Inside, there was printed text repeating the text on the cover. There were also three paragraphs of very small hoof writing stretching down the left side of the card.

Starting from the top, Cantor read the neat writing quietly to himself:

“Dear Cantor,

I’m so, so sorry to hear about what happened, I haven’t been told the full details yet, but I’m sure you will let me know what happened when you wake up. The doctors say they didn’t know how long it could take. They said you could wake up tomorrow or in a month. But I know you’re going to be fine. You always seem to get better really quickly.

I hope you like the rhododendrons I sent. They smell wonderful, don’t you think? And they’re also so delicious this time of year! I hope they won’t go bad by the time you wake up.

Big Macintosh and I are doing just fine, in case your wondering, and so are the twins. Everypony around Ponyville misses you dearly and we all hope you get better real soon. I wish there was something I could do, but… The doctors say they have everything under control and besides, I’m better at looking after animals than ponies… I’m really quite useless when it comes to that.

Once again, wishing you a world of health,
Your loving friend,
Fluttershy.”

Cantor smiled with a slightly emotional atmosphere and began to re-read the card when he heard hoofsteps approaching slowly on the other side of the door. Cantor tried to replace the card on the nightstand, but in his haste, only succeeded in knocking down numerous other cards in his attempt. He dropped the card and watched sadly as three other cards fluttered to the floor. He quietly apologised to whomever the cards may belong to and snuggled down under the sheets, pulling the blanket right up to his nose.

He lay in wait for a long few seconds until the hoofsteps ceased. The door opened silently but widely and the sudden blitz of light felt as if somepony had scooped out Cantor’s eyeballs and poured boiling water into the sockets. The alicorn yelped in pain and screwed his eyes shut, turned away from the door and buried his face into the pillow. The spike of pain from nothing to everything made his ears ring and his head spin. He heard the door slam shut but the pain refused to go away.

Once again, Cantor found himself moaning and groaning in bed as slowly, the ringing sound in his ears became replaced with apology after apology from an unknown female source. Cantor painstakingly rolled back over onto his back, gingerly opened is eyes and waited for his vision to come back. The light had temporarily blinded him and it took a good minute for the colour and light to fill his vision once more, and twice as long for objects to come into focus.

The intruder happened to be a chalky white mare with pure silver hair and two big blue eyes which stood out most of all over her entire body. She was stunningly beautiful and the same age – or maybe even younger than Cantor.

“What… What’s going on?” He asked quietly. The room had once again returned to deathly silence – the cosy kind where everything seems muffled and there is one other distinct noise which kept everypony speaking in hushed voices, like the dawn after a night’s heavy snowfall.

“Thank heavens that you’re awake.” The nurse sighed as she took a seat and dragged it over to Cantor’s bedside. “I was beginning to think you’d never wake up…” She added with the greatest sense of relief as she parked herself in the maroon coloured chair.

“Takes a lot to get rid of me.” Cantor joked proudly. The nurse laughed. “Speaking of which, what did happen to me?” He asked, and the earth pony shuffled nervously in her cushy woven armchair.

“I really can’t help.” She said apologetically whilst tapping her hooves together and watching adamantly. “I’m really very sorry… The princesses asked that we inform them when you wake up. Of course we need your permission to let them see you.” She looked back up at Cantor. “Please forgive me, but honestly, I really don’t know a thing.”

Cantor batted the air with his hoof discerningly. “Don’t worry about it.” He replied with the best smile he could form around his headache. “Yes, you can tell Celestia and Luna that they can see me if they want.” The young nurse smiled contently and rose from the chair. “Oh, by the way, do you think I can be out of here by tomorrow?” Cantor added, staring levelly at the mare from his rather high bed.

“Once again, sir… I’m very sorry, but we’ll have to keep you for at least a week before we can let you go.” She replied with the most sincerest tone.

“A week!?” Cried Cantor. “Why- why what’s for the week?” He mumbled like a drunkard, flitting his eyes over every inch of the mare's face..

“Sorry, sir, but your medication needs to be monitored strictly. You’re… very lucky to be alive, sir.” She answered with a shallow dip of the head.

Cantor’s eyebrows flittered and he gave a cocky smirk. “Where have I heard that before?” He asked with a small chortle which built into a throaty cough.

The mare laughed quietly, checked the many drips and instruments around Cantor and asked if there was anything she could get him before she left. Cantor requested politely her name first, which she happily replied: “Nurse Silverlove.” And announced she would bring Cantor some more water as soon as possible.

“Thank you very much, Miss Silverlove.” Cantor said graciously with a little nod of appreciation.

“Not at all.” The nurse replied with a small bow of her own. “Now is there anything else I can do for you?” She asked.

“Well…” Cantor started before deciding it was a bad idea and he stopped. “Sorry, no. Never mind…”

“No, go on.” Insisted Silverlove with a motherish tone. “It’s us nurses’ jobs to help patients, anything you need, we will try our best to get it for you.” She affirmed with a proud smile.

"Uhm..." Cantor began, shifting his eyes in embarrassment. "If it's alright, could you um... could you stay here and talk for a bit?" The alicorn could feel his face burning up, but since the girl asked, he felt complied to ask.

Silverlove’s face fell into a concerned frown. “You want to… ‘talk’?” She asked.

“Yeah.” Cantor replied. “It’s just you’re the first pony I saw when I woke up and you seem really nice… I was just wondering… Because I'm a little... you know... scared of the dark...”

The mare’s face didn’t change from the uncertain, discomforted frown. “I suppose so…” She said warily, the though of a full crown stallion having a foalish fear such as that coming across as suspicious. “But I have to inform you that I have a colt-friend.”

Cantor laughed heartily, and once again, it turned into coughing. “I must say I’m not Surprised! No, no… I’m not asking something like that of you, after all, I’ve got a love interest too.” Now the nurse’s face returned to it’s usual bubbly appearance.

“Oh? Is that the purple mare… Twi…light Sparkle?” She asked. Cantor nodded. “Ah, I thought as much.” Silverlove added with a reflective face. “You know, she would come here every day, talking, having a conversation… some days she would come here and simply cry all visiting hours. It was heartbreaking to see, but it was obvious that she really loves you.”

Cantor sunk into the many pillows of the bed which propped him up and stared at the quickly rotating fan. “She does, doesn’t she…” He gave a throaty quirk of amusement as he continued. “I love her too. So much… She’s… she’s the only family I have…”

Silverlove bowed her head. “I’m sorry, sir.” She said softly. Being a mare so close to her own family – even her non-direct relatives like aunts and uncles or grandparents, the thought of having just one of them out of her life made her teary, but actually having nopony – nopony whatsoever… She was thankful that hadn’t happened to her: she didn’t even want to bear thinking about what it must feel like to be completely and utterly alone.

“It’s fine… But thank you for your sympathy.” Cantor shrugged, closing his eyes and seeing Twilight’s face in perfect clarity. “After all,” He added, “Twi and me are expecting.”

“That’s wonderful. Congratulations, sir.” The mare replied happily.

“Please, call me Cantor.” Asked the stallion, his eyelids heavy and his consciousness fading.

“Okay, Cantor. No problem.” Replied Silver as she turned to walk out of the door. “Doctor Stable will be here soon to check up on you and he can explain any further questions.” Cantor opened his eyes and stared towards the door where the nurse was standing. His vision was fading again and Silver appeared as nothing more than a white blob amongst a sea of brown. “Don’t worry, Cantor.” She continued. “I’m working late tonight. We can talk then, okay?” The nurse then turned into the room again, staring quizzically at Cantor, though the alicorn couldn't read her expression. "Are you really afraid of the dark?" She asked with a smirk.

Cantor paused for a moment before a grin started to spread across his face. "It's really just my own imagination..." He spoke with an admitting tone. "I make myself see things in the shadows... It's stupid, really..."

"Well, if you must know," Nurse Silverlove began to reply in a whisper. "I'm afraid of going into my basement - even in the daytime..." She informed enthusiastically, like an adult trying to connect with a foal.

Cantor smiled weakly, his head was heavy and his eyelids weighed a ton. “Thank you, nurse Silverlove…” He croaked. “You’re too kind.” He just managed to say this before his head fell back down to the soft pillow. And that’s where it stayed.

“No problem, Cantor.” The nurse replied kindly, unsure whether the stallion was still awake. “I’ll bring you some more water, okay?” Cantor mumbled a thanks, hating himself for not making himself heard, yet far too tired to care enough to try again. “You might want to cover your eyes: the drugs are making your pupils horrifically dilated.” By now, she was certain Cantor was asleep, but she was proven wrong when he covered his face with a pillow and rolled over.

She swiftly exited the room, wishing Cantor a restful sleep before the latch gently clicked shut. And as with the shutting of the door, Cantor fell into a dark, dreamless sleep where he had some queer concept of time, despite the whole fact he was asleep. He stared into the blackness of unconsciousness and waited for the voice of his friends to wake him, which came much sooner than expected, however, the voice which brought him from sleep was not what he had been anticipating, yet the visit was not dismissed as unpleasant in the slightest.

Cantor heard the click of the latch even before he woke up. Once again, his eyes peeled open at a snail’s pace, yet the pain was far less than the first time. The room still appeared ridiculously bright, but the pounding headache he felt a few hours ago had mercifully ceased. Once again, the bright brown room filled his vision and so did the ‘familiar’ surroundings, though another presence joined him. Rather, three were now encroaching to his bedside. The first face he saw was the cream caramel unicorn’s with the chestnut mane. Doctor stable peered down at Cantor with his deep cyan eyes through his frameless spectacles and smiled warmly.

“I thought we agreed that you weren’t going to be getting into any more trouble.” He quipped light-heartedly.

The bedridden stallion gave a gentle chuckle and attempted to sit up. To his dismay, he found his muscles barely responsive and the simple task of leaning forward felt like he had a ton of bricks tied to his back. His forelegs wobbled underneath him, and just as he was about to give up and fall back into bed, two hooves wrapped around him and pulled him forward. With a gasp, he sat up and shuffled his rump slowly backwards until his back was against the many pillows at the headrest.

Cantor resided into the uncomfortably hot pillow as he once again became conscious to the quiet metronomic beeping somewhere behind him. “Hey, doctor…” He greeted quietly, his mouth dry and sticky with a sour taste about it. “Sorry.” He laughed. “It’s in my personality to wind up in hospital.”

Doctor Stable greeted Cantor’s gesture with an amused smile and took the seat left by the young nurse by the side of the alicorn’s bed. “You’ve been asleep for the lesser part of three weeks, Cantor.” The doctor continued solemnly. “We were beginning to think you’d never wake up.”

Cantor frowned at the doctor in confusion. “Three weeks?” He asked in partial disbelief. Stable nodded slowly in a remorseful manner. “What happened? How did I get to hospital? Why am I so weak?” He asked, and Stable could do nothing but hold up his hoof for some guidance.

“You’ll hopefully get your questions answered in due time.” Said the unicorn. “Right now, you need to rest and let the medicine help you.”

Cantor rolled his head away from Stable and upon doing so, noticed two other alicorns stood on the other side of his bed. “Luna, Celestia… What are you doing here?” He asked, appearing somewhat shocked at the presence of the princesses, yet really, he expected that sooner or later, this would become the case.

Neither of the mares answered, instead, they sank to their haunches and motioned for the doctor to leave. With the speed which was deemed necessarily respectful, Stable up and left, mumbling to himself about his next tasks during the dwindling day, and even into the coming night. Cantor forgot about the warning the nurse had given him and watched Stable leave, being greeted by the garish light outside of the room and screwing his eyes shut in pain.

The two royal mares waited patiently for cantor’s vision to return to normal: he stared ahead blankly, blinking regularly before opening his eyes again as points of colour tingled back into his eyes. Once again, Cantor rolled his head to see the princesses for a little comfort at a familiar face, yet more so, for an explanation.

“How are you feeling?” Asked the dark blue princess, her concern genuine in her large aquatic eyes.

Cantor smiled. “I’ve seen better days…” He sighed in a light hearted manner. “I don’t remember anything.” Said Cantor, looking more towards Luna than the white one. “The last thing I remember was… unbearable pain, and then… everything went dark…” His eyes fell downwards to the blooming bed rails as the realisation hit him like the ton of bricks he was bound to. “I didn’t… hurt anypony… did I?” He asked, facing the pearlescent maned mare who was staring at the ceiling fan and blinking rapidly, biting her trembling bottom lip.

Celestia did not reply, and Cantor immediately assumed the worst. “Oh no…” He gasped. “No. No I didn’t kill anypony did I? No, I wouldn’t… I… I couldn’t…” He felt tears spike at the base of his eyes as he damned himself for being a monster. He covered his eyes with his foreleg and turned away from the princesses. “I’m so sorry…” He squeaked. “I can’t control it…” He sobbed quietly, his breaths ragged, torn stabs in his throat.

He felt a soothing hoof on his back. Not caring who it was, or that they were trying to comfort him, Cantor did nothing. “It’s okay, Cantor…” Cooed Luna in a dismissive tone. “Nopony was killed.” She affirmed, to which the heartbroken alicorn rolled groggily back over to look at her.

“Really?” He asked, already feeling his spirits becoming lifted and a smile broadening onto his face. Luna nodded happily, closing her eyes peacefully in light of her friend’s relief. “Oh, thank Cele-“ Cantor began, then abruptly paused. “…Thank luck.” He spitefully corrected himself, glaring at the older princess as she began to cry. Unfazed by the princess’ sorrow, mainly due to the fact that she played a major role in his torture, Cantor did nothing to try to aid her in feeling better about the situation. “Celestia.” Cantor began in a disappointed tone. “What happened? I was in pain, I told you to stop it…” Celestia hung her head and her tears began to roll down her nose and perch on her chin.

“I’m so sorry, Cantor.” Sobbed the princess in complete self-loathing. “You’re right… I should have stopped the machine. I could see it was hurting you, and believe me, it hurt me just as much to see you in so much pain, but…”

“But?” Asked Cantor harshly.

“But I needed to do it. We couldn’t stop then, not when we were that close.”

“Close to what?” Cantor demanded. “What does putting a hundred ponies’ lives in danger and torturing me possibly fall under in terms of importance?”

Celestia looked back up and allowed her sister to wipe away some of the tears. “We did it, Cantor; you did it. You gave us enough magical energy to power up the Peripharous crystal. That is more valuable than any one life.”

Cantor grimaced in disgust. “How dare you say that?” His voice was strong, despite his previous dwindling being. “No life is less valuable than a fucking rock! How dare you condemn ponies you think lesser than that of yourself!?”

Celestia winced, squealed in fear and scrambled backwards towards the wall, hugging her knees tight against her chest as she screwed her eyes shut and waited for Cantor to lie into her like the monster she expected him to be. But he didn’t. Instead, The stallion merely sank back down into his bed so his back was lying once again on the mattress as he gasped for owed breath as a result of his uncharacteristic outburst. Like many ugly times in the past, Cantor’s fury was transformed into sorrow and despair. He wanted to roll over onto his side to face away from what he had done, yet his violent shouting had stolen his breath and now all he could possibly think to do was gain it back again.

Princess Celestia quickly regained her composure and tidied herself up as she rose to her hooves and crossed the short distance to Cantor’s gasping form. She shook her head pitifully and sighed with remorse at her friend. “I’m sorry, Can-“

“No!” Cantor butted in, unable to speak more than one word in-between gasps for precious air. His large, frightful orange eyes moved to look up at Celestia as he continued. “I’m… the… one… who… should be… huh, huh… sorry…” Celestia patiently waited the few minutes it took for his breathing and heart rate to return somewhat to normal, then for Cantor to continue. “I’m really sorry, princess. I’m the one who lost control, I’m the one that hurt those ponies, and I know now that you had the best intentions…” He paused and attempted to swallow the thick, sour tasting saliva that had collected in his mouth, but in doing so, discovered that once again, he could no longer breathe.

Feeling his chest compress, yet no air come through his sandpaper mouth, he reached across his bed for the jug of water. He began to panic when he discovered it was just out of his reach, raising his heart rate, causing him to crave oxygen he could not get. Celestia saw his swipes for the water and rapidly made her way around his bedside, nudging the trolley closer with her head. Cantor instantly snatched the water and drank furiously, spilling much of it over his cheeks and chin again.

He drunk nearly all of the water before he drew the jug away, gasping for air, the feeling of his lungs expanding filled him with relief and gratitude. He placed the few centimetres of water back on the aluminium trolley and stared up at the princess with huge, nearly entirely black eyes. “Oh, thank you, princess Celestia!” Gasped the stallion, wiping his hoof across his mouth, failing in drying up a substantial amount of water. Nevertheless, it helped. “You saved my life!” He added with a great smile as if he had just finished a proud work of art.

Celestia met his grin with bashful eyes. “Well, I… It’s a little much to say that, don’t you think?” She asked, watching the water slowly calm inside the transparent jug.

“No, princess.” Replied Cantor with heartfelt honesty. “If you weren’t here, I would have choked to death; I couldn’t breathe.” Once again, tears welled up in his eyes as he opened his arms wide, yet couldn’t seem to work the muscles necessary to lean towards the princess. “Thank you.” He choked as he started to cry, the pain of how horrid he had been to Celestia hitting him hard. The white mare wrapped her arms tightly around his back, and he could feel her tears leaving hot marks on his shoulder as the two embraced.

“I’m sorry I lost control, Tia.” Wept Cantor as he hugged her as tight as he could, which wasn’t very.

“It’s fine, sweetheart.” Replied Celestia, feeling much better to get all of this negativity off of her chest. “I’m sorry for not turning off the machine…”

They stayed in that pose for several minutes, completely ignorant of the night-time alicorn in the room as their tears dried up. Celestia slowly lowered Cantor back into bed, like a mother would her frail newborn foal and resided back to her sister’s side, where she had drawn over two foam stuffed armchairs from the stout table in the corner of the room during her sister and Cantor’s moment. The two mares looked each other in the eye and exchanged trusting glances, then turned to the stallion, smiling, as was he.

“So…” Luna began after a short sigh to refresh the air somewhat. “Once again, you’ve gotten yourself into trouble and pretty much everypony in Ponyville, and indeed Canterlot,knows about it!” She laughed, and Cantor laughed too, though the humour was short lived as he still had many questions to ask.

“Um…” He started, a meek smile still framed under his tired eyes. “What actually happened; what did I do when I…” His head fell to the foot of his bed, where he focused intently on what had happened during the past three weeks, more so, what had happened at the start.

The two sisters glanced at each other again, challenging one another to explain. Predictably, Celestia was the one to agree, after all, she was there when he changed. “Do you know what a ‘tri-core’ is?” She asked, leaning back slightly in her chair.

“…” Cantor stared blankly. “Am I supposed to?” He asked. Celestia chortled in amusement, closing her eyes peacefully before she explained.

“A tri-core is something whish resides only in alicorns and extremely powerful unicorns.” She explained. Once again, Cantor was captivated, gazing intently towards Celestia for her to continue. “It is called a tri-core because it takes three forms; an equine form, an angelic form, and a… demonic form too…”

Princess Luna became agitated and started to shuffle nervously in her seat, looking away from Cantor towards the darkened corner of the room. Cantor noticed this and had an idea about where this was going. “So… whenever we get angry, or frustrated, or…” He turned to Luna. “…jealous, we turn into demons?”

“Put simply… yes.” Answered Celestia with a fair nod. “But it is only under extreme circumstances… In that state of mind, we can’t think rationally, we do things we otherwise wouldn’t dream of.” She dared a peep at her sister, who had managed to find great interest in counting the petals on the flowers by Cantor’s bedside; a thousand years of isolation would do that to you: make you so lonely as to get thrills from counting inanimate objects just to have the knowledge that you know how many petals are in a bouquet, how many clouds plague the sky, how many pebbles were on the surface of the moon.

“And what about the angel?” Asked Cantor, clasping his hooves together over his chest and frowning in intense concentration.

Celestia frowned at the dark floor beneath her hooves and crossed her legs to make herself more comfortable. “That’s different.” She replied definitively. “That kind of mindset; that kind of power only comes via a physical epiphany of fate.”

“That’s very poetic, princess.” Cantor commented.

Celestia’s frown changed to an amused smile. “It means you know what is undoubtedly the right thing to do, whether that be banishing your sister to the moon for a thousand years for her to come back a changed mare: happy, and content with life, or opening your heart to fears and thoughts which plague your mind to a loving friend: to show just how much you love and respect and trust them.” She nudged her sister, and Luna turned around with large cyan eyes. She shot her younger sister a trusting wink, and Luna blushed, giving Celestia a little smile of severe appreciation in return.

“Or whether that epiphany is accepting the duty to sacrifice your life for the good of the world.” Celestia continued as she turned to Cantor, who was concentrating on her words, an austere expression fixed upon his shadowed face.

Cantor thought long and hard about what to say next, but there was really only one thing on his mind. “So how do you prevent yourself from ‘going demon’?” He asked, trying not to sound too comical.

“You can’t.” Celestia replied swiftly, locking Cantor with eye contact.

“Really?” Asked Cantor, a little disappointed, but kept refined by the notion that those occurrences, morbid as they were, happened very rarely.

“Well… you can try, but it really does no good for the soul. If you try and seal away your demon, eventually, it will consume your body and your mind, and you will be trapped inside it with no hope of escaping until somepony shows you the light…” She trailed off, smiling peacefully at something behind closed eyes.

The room fell into silent contemplation. There were no sounds apart from the dim electrical beeping and the aggravated grumbling of Cantor’s stomach as it failed to cope with the water inside of it. In drinking the water, Cantor had alerted himself to just how tired (among other things) he was, and now he could barely keep his eyes open. To try and stay awake, he resorted to conversation again.

“So, how did I end up in hospital?” He asked, forcing his eyes wide. Once again, knowing all the answers, Celestia replied.

“You were knocked out by an extremely potent... tranquillizer. The right amount can be very effective, too much and, well… It’s deadly.” Said the solar princess, her shimmering mane making it difficult for Cantor to look her in the eye for an extended period of time.

“Oh, really?” He acknowledged, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hoof.

Celestia paused before continuing, wondering whether what she was about to say needed to be said or not. “…You were given three times the lethal dose.” She added dryly, making Cantor halt in concentrated thought. “We really don’t know how you should be alive right about now, let alone talking!”

“Where have I heard that before?” He quipped, a deviant grin of reflection worn upon his lips.

Celestia, despite her seriousness, couldn’t help but chuckle at Cantor’s cockiness. “But the tranquilizer has had some side effects…” Not for the first time that evening, she gazed to her sister for some reassurance, and not for the first time either, found that Luna didn’t have much to offer. “Your body is a minefield, Cantor: high fever, severe blood poisoning, blocked arteries, vomiting blood, urinating blood, deterioration of the stomach…”

As Celestia rattled off the symptoms, Cantor became aware of the many tubes, drips and needles hung around him. He noted about six different bags of chemicals slowly trickling vital fluids into various parts of his body. He could feel the tube inside his nose run down his throat and disappear into his stomach, where, upon lifting the covers, Cantor found a sizeable hole in his lower belly where two thick plastic pipes protruded. One contained a dull yellow liquid, and the other held one with a distinguishable red. Upon ‘lower’ inspection, Cantor noticed a second worryingly thick pipe disappearing into his sheath. The sight made him feel queasy, and in a far worse way than he was used to. It felt as if his insides were being incinerated, and his eyes widened in fright to the grossly painful experience.

“…Your body is practically turning itself inside-“ Celestia slammed on the brakes as soon as she saw Cantor’s frantic eyes and bulging cheeks. “Cantor, what’s wrong?” She asked, beginning to panic.

Cantor blew the air from his cheeks as his saliva became a torrent in his mouth. He winced and clutched his stomach in incredible pain. “I… I don’t feel well… Ogh!” He groaned like a frightened foal. He managed another two exasperated gasps before he silently threw up a terrifying amount of blood all down the pure white sheets. Celestia and Luna screamed in unison as Cantor fell backwards into the pillow. His mouth was pouring with blood and the viscous red liquid stained his chin and neck. Just then, two royal guards burst into the room, and upon noticing the blood-sodden bed sheets, they began yelling down the corridor for help.

In no time at all, the room was filled with doctors and nurses who didn’t seem as fazed as the princesses, yet needless to say, were shaken. Upon arrival, the room appeared a complete mess: the patient had vomited blood and was now trembling in paralyzed fear, unable to speak over the trauma. And in the corner were the princesses, no less – fluttering their hooves and gasping out frightened breaths as they struggled to take their eyes from their grotesque friend. Two nurses took it as their duty to calm the female alicorns down while three other doctors checked Cantor over. Noticing how one of the drips had run dry, they immediately sent off for another bag of ‘taurine polycarbonic steroids’ and another to empty out the nearly full blood and urine pots which hung below Cantor’s bed.

Everypony was very efficient, very on-task. Even now, quiet had returned to the room and the friendly Dr. Stable was trying to calm Cantor down from his petrified wheezing breath. The doctor had slipped a thick blindfold over Cantor’s eyes so as to not blind him with the hospital lights which had flickered on. Doctor Stable, though a veteran in the field of medicine, couldn’t help but sound a little panicked towards Cantor’s display. The alicorn had done this before, but never while he was awake – and never this much. He sent one of the doctors away to fetch a bag of AB negative blood whilst he whispered in Cantor’s ear with a frail sense of humility.

“Oh, Cantor…” He laughed feebly. “When are you going to stop getting yourself into trouble, ey?” He started to laugh again, but that was when Cantor threw up a second time. It was not so much vomiting, rather, a couple viscous pints of blood gushed out of his mouth like a fire hose, and washed over the mattress with a wet splatter: (which made the act even more petrifying for everyone involved).

It was all hooves on deck then. Both Stable and the two mares calming down the princesses sprung upwards, wheeling Cantor and his drips out of the room at emergency speeds. Doctor Stable galloped ahead, ordering others in the hallway to stand clear as Cantor’s twitching body barrelled down.

The doctor held a door open near to the end of the hallway and pointed the nurses inside. They pushed Cantor’s bed through the doors and up to the wall inside. Stable instructed them to call if anything went wrong. Without waiting for a reply, Stable dashed from the room to the one opposite: his office, to retrieve extra bags of Cantor’s blood.

The alicorn in question knew nothing about what was going on: all he could do was lie there, try not to holler and scream as the tremendous pain in his chest sent lightning bolts through his head. It felt as though someone was lying into his heart with a hammer. Cantor made the crippling assumption that, because of this new degree of pain and the erratic bleeping of the monitor somewhere behind him that he was having a heart attack. He could hear both of the princesses speaking to him at once, telling him that he was going to be fine and that he was being so brave. Truth is, he was crying behind his blindfold. This was the most terrifying experience he had ever had in his entire life: other injuries – lacerations, broken bones, torn ligaments: they were all physical traumas. Being poisoned was different: there was nothing he could do to clear the drug from his body except add more drugs and eventually throw half of the tainted blood up all over his bed.

Cantor felt as though he couldn’t possibly be in more pain. But that’s when his machine flat lined. He sank into the pillow and could faintly hear muffled screaming from the princesses and the nurses. What happened next faded from memory.

All Celestia and Luna could do was watch in stunned and horrified silence as doctors and nurses surrounded him, prodding him with many needles and applying pads to his head with curled wires sprouting from them running into a large machine. A mask was strapped around his face and two drips filled with blood were connected to both of his front ankles and the doctors slathered electrode jelly all over his lifeless chest.

“Clear!” Yelled one of the doctors as he pressed the defibrillator plates into Cantor’s chest. The machine the pads were connected to buzzed loudly like the sound of a massive electrical discharge and Cantor’s body convulsed violently. Princess Celestia had turned away and was sobbing loudly into her foreleg as her younger sister merely watched and hoped with a trembling hoof held over her mouth as she tried to come to terms with the fact that she might be watching another one of her best friends die in front of her. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, the sounds, the sights. Everypony was doing all they could to bring Cantor back, and that wasn’t much. It was times like this when the patient decided whether they wanted to live or not: somehow the doctors had little influence over this dire decision in a situation like this.

“Clear!” Shouted the doctor in possession of the defibrillator again as the machine buzzed and hummed loudly, and by some miracle, the heart monitor spiked and bleeped back into life. Everypony held their breath and froze, waiting for something to go wrong so they could correct it. But nothing happened. The room became more silent than a cave ten miles underground, the only wonderful sound: an electronic beeping signifying Cantor’s life.

With no words needed to express their relief, Luna and Celestia embraced each other tightly and cried their fears out onto their adopted shoulders.

Steadily, after checking that all was finally in order, the three doctors and two nurses left the room to go about their other duties; saving more lives as if it were nothing, and to fetch new sheets to replace Cantor’s bloodied mess. Doctor stable returned to the room looking a little worse for ware with two bags of blood clenched in his teeth. He set them down carefully on a desk at the end of the room and set about checking Cantor’s vitals while the two princesses slowly calmed down until they could speak.

Celestia stepped up to Stable’s side and began to thank him dearly. “Words cannot express how-“

“Yes, your majesty.” The still rather flustered doctor interrupted as he furiously scribbled notes into his clipboard. Celestia appeared mortified, yet the relief for her friend’s safety kept her from blowing a fuse after being interrupted. “Sorry to interrupt,” Stable continued, glancing at a medical instrument, then back to his notes and adding more; deeply engrossed with his work. “But this is really a crucial moment; we're going to need to monitor Cantor her for several hours until we can be sure he can recover on his own.” He checked around the back of one of the larger machines and twisted several knobs to within a very acute degree of accuracy.

Celestia understood, though she didn’t take kindly to being interrupted, she was simply relived that Cantor was fine and that the doctor was doing his job to ensure the safety of one of her closest friends. “I understand, doctor.” Said Celestia, motioning for her sister to follow her out of the door. “Thank you for what you’ve done. You’ve all saved more than just a life today.”

Doctor stable ceased his note taking for a moment and turned to face Celestia. Unlike most other ponies, Stable didn’t have any kind of self-diminishing thoughts when in the presence of the princess. He recognised her as an authority figure, and respected her accordingly. But he didn’t bring himself down a peg or two just to make Celestia feel more empowered. She had enough power already, but the good doctor trusted Celestia not to do anything harmful. Cantor on the other hoof: not only did he feel uncomfortable around him, but something within the alicorn, something in his eyes… It scared him. And he prayed to whatever god there may be that Cantor never found this out.

“Well, princess, I know you hope as much as I do that this will never happen again.” Noted the doctor sternly, turning back to his jotting.

Finding that she had exausted her usefulness, Celestia promptly left. Luna began to follow her, but in one unjustifiable act of care, she crossed the room, planted a subtle kiss on Cantor’s cheek, whispering: “Be safe.” Before she too upped and left without saying another word to the doctor.

The heavy wooden door, surrounded by a golden glow, shut a little louder than it needed to have been and doctor stable tutted to himself and shook his head in disappointment. He took his glasses off and laid the clipboard to rest on the table at the far end of the room. The butterscotch unicorn massaged the bridge of his nose with his hoof and sighed after a long day of thinking. He knew that Celestia was somewhat responsible for Cantor’s injuries, and in less than ten minutes of being around him, he had nearly died again.

Stable sunk to his haunches and stared up at Cantor, eying his bloody sheets and chest in slight pity. He became mesmerized with Cantor’s steady breathing and hypnotic heart rate. He must have watched the alicorn sleep for a good, long five minutes before another thought crossed his mind. And when it finally did, he spoke aloud, as he often did when he was in familiar solitude, and also when something meant a great deal to him. “Here lies one of the most powerful creatures ever to have lived…” Stable mumbled, rising up and ambling slowly to Cantor’s side.

“Look at you… So… weak…” He slid Cantor’s blindfold up to the base of his horn and smiled. Cantor’s eyes were moving rapidly behind his lids. “What are you dreaming about, Cantor? What kind of things do you see with that amazing mind of yours?”

The doctor turned around, and still smiling, slowly strolled across the room to put straight a collection of items atop one of the cabinets that had been knocked during the panic. The dark caramel maned pony re-organised the tabletop with care, straightening bottled water, pencils and the quaint potted plant which had spilled some soil where it had fallen. No serious harm done...

All seemed tranquil: eerie in a way - as if the room had somehow been sealed by an opposing force. Feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, Stable cleared his throat to try and dispel tension as he fetched his previos clipboard and began writing more pseudo-useful notes. The only audio in the room became the heart monitor bleeping in its solitude, the subtle whir of the air conditioning, and the doctor's own quickened breathing as his pen scribbled onto the page.

“…I don't w-want…”

The sound of a far away whimper made the unicorn's ears stand to attention. Was that something he'd imagined?

Lowering the clipboard slightly, Dr. Stable scanned Cantor's thin body up and down, noticing his chest easily rise and fall. Then he noticed Cantor's face: brow furrowed in apparent concern, his eyes flitting wildly behind his eyelids. The good doctor had seen far too many horror movies to know better than to stare at an unconscious pony, so, drawing backwards slightly, and checking to make sure no one was watching, he addressed the alicorn with a respectful whisper. "C... Cantor...?" He asked, loosely gripping his clipboard and pen with the cyan magic. "Are you awake?"

Several heartbeats passed with electronic beeping, and Stable was about to admit to himself that he had imagined the whole scenario... However, that's when Cantor began to mumble.

"D... don't... want...Can't."

It was at this point, the medical stallion found he had two choices: run and get help, or stay and try to talk with the frequent patient he could comfortably call his friend. He was tempted to go: there were a couple of nurses in the ward just next door, however given the circumstances, Stable decided to remain by the intriguing stallion's side.

"Come... Come clo... ser..." Cantor wheezed, eyes still closed.

The doctor complied, though his unease was very clear as he drew up to the supposedly unconscious stallion. He found he had drawn so close that he and Cantor's ears were millimetres apart.

Stable noticed a cool drop of sweat trickle down his nose and perch on his lip. He silently blew the liquid away and tried to make sense of the syllables radiating from Cantor's mouth as he softly wheezed.

"...Don't." Cantor croaked after a long exhale. "Don't want to... Don't want..."

"What is it, Cantor?" The doctor whispered with compliant enthusiasm, resting a hoof gently upon the alicorn's bloodied stomach.

Cantor's mouth began to twitch with discomfort, his brow furrowed even more and his head began to roll from side to side ever so slightly. "No, I... I don't." He said a little more empowered, though his tone was still barely audible to anyone more than a foot away.

"What's wrong, Cantor?" Dr. Stable pressured, obviously concerned for his long term friend. "What is it? What don't you want?" He patted Cantor lightly on the chest, trying to get the stallion more alert. "I want to help. What's wro-"

His sentence was gruellingly cut short as a bloody white hoof snapped up and firmly grasped at his butterscotch face. The doctor managed to squeak in shocked protest before Cantor's second forehoof came up to squeeze the other side of his face.

Cantor began to slowly pull the doctor's head towards his own, yet the unicorn did not seem to put up a fight - even though his turquoise eyes were shrunken to pinpricks with dismay.

He continued to close the distance between their two faces. They were so close now, that Stable could smell the pungent metallic aroma of fresh blood seeping from Cantor's nasal.

Their heads were touching now, Cantor's horn and the doctor's bumping down rings as their brows and foreheads met.

Cantor opened his eyes, which were nothing but dark black portals, reflective enough for Stable to see his own frantic eyes, shot back at him through the very entrance to somepony's own soul.

The grip around his head intensified as did the alicorn's furious, hateful grimace. Cantor began to tremble with something similar to rage as he pulled the doctor closer and opened his blood-saturated mouth to speak with a dark, hellish voice.

"I don't want to see any more."

Doctor Stable stumbled backwards and crashed into the wall not too far behind him. Breathing heavily, and dripping with a cold sweat, the doctor simply stared at Cantor, his chest gently rising and falling, the heart monitor bleeping at a steady pace, the liquid slowly seeping into his body, urging the poisoned blood to purge out. Drop by viscous drop. The unicorn stallion practically leapt out of his skin when he felt the soft hoof over his tensed shoulder. He whirled around to see a nurse ladled with clean white bed sheets and another with a bucket and a sponge in her mouth. Behind the pair of frightened looking mares stood an older gray pelted earth pony with several teeth missing from his head. He was dressed in doctor’s overalls and appeared to really look like he wanted to be somewhere else.

“Problem, doc?” Asked the aged stallion. “You look like you seen a ghost…” He spoke slowly, and with a deep, but frail voice, accentuating his age and knowledge.

“Um…” Stable stumbled, reaching to readjust the glasses perched on his nose, forgetting he had taken them off and set them down on the other side of the room. Without smiling, and without looking at the pony in bed, he levitated his frameless spectacles back onto his pale face. “I um… I…” He tried to speak his mind, but the last thing he wanted was for ponies to think he was crazy.

“Maybe you jus’ need a rest…” The grey pony suggested, stepping out of the way of the door to let Stable pass. Without a word, and not daring to steal a glimpse at Cantor, the tired doctor left silently to go and have a well needed lie down and maybe a drink or two from the stout bottle of scotch he kept in his bookshelf for situations as dire as this. Leaving the door wide open, he began to maul his brain for answers which he knew he would never be able to find.

“Do you know how much I hate you?” Twilight Sparkle asked with relieved tears in her eyes as she sat by Cantor’s bedside holding the stallion’s hoof as he slowly came around. The white alicorn rolled his head to the side, being greeted with two lustrous orbs of lavender looking kindly back. It had been another two days since Cantor’s last brush with death, and now the doctors were convinced that enough of the poisoned blood was gone to ensure the stallion’s health. One thing which troubled the doctors – one doctor in particular – was the indistinct mumblings coming from the alicorn as he slept. Over his past two nights, he had rambled various words like ‘don’t’, ‘run’ and ‘I’m sorry’. As far as everypony knew, Cantor had a perfectly healthy mind and had had no other bouts of the mild signs of dementia until that experiment nearly a month ago. It certainly raised some questions, and caused a few heated debates about the matter, but regardless, the main focus was Cantor’s safety.

The white stallion smiled weakly and sighed painstakingly and rubbed his eyes with his free hoof. He noticed that he was in the same room he had first woken up in. It gave him an odd nostalgic feeling as well as a sense of insecurity of the violence and bloodshed which had occurred in the room recently. The alicorn still found himself weak and heavy, carrying some unsung burden of the distressing past, yet far too dethatched from it for it to affect his conscious brain.

“I love you too, Twilight…” Replied Cantor with a laugh, now trying to sit up by outstretching his wings into the mattress.

Twilight threw her forelegs around him and squeezed him tight. “You scared the life out of me, Cantor.” She said whilst stroking his back where the wings connected. “You gave us all a scare…” She pulled back, lowering Cantor into the bed gently. The alicorn didn’t protest the fact that he wanted to sit up, knowing that there would be more opportunities in the future to receve help, as his muscles were still incredibly unresponsive due to the tranquilizer’s numbing effects. That was the worst thing about the drug: you could knock a pony out with it, and not know when they woke up until they moved. That is why it wasn’t used in hospitals: the patient may wake up half way through an operation and not be able to tell the doctors that they were awake whilst still experiencing the pain as the scalpel sliced through their flesh.

It was unlikely for somepony to be able to open their eyes and speak after being injected with that venomous drug, but such a feat had become somewhat of an expectation from an equine like Cantor. “How long was I asleep for this time?” Asked the stallion as he still struggled to sit. Slowly but surely, his powerful wings were raising him upwards.

“Two days. The doctors let us in after closing hours; they said it might help your recovery to hear a friendly voice.” Answered a very relaxed looking Twilight Sparkle.

“Us?” Asked Cantor, peering past Twilight to the five other mares which populated the dimly lit room. Pinkie Pie was in a three way conversation with Rarity and Fluttershy, which left the scandalous as ever Rainbow Dash to converse with Applejack, and as usual, they had gotten into an argument. What it was about was unclear, but their hushed voices and motions towards the machines around the alicorn implied that they had him in mind.

The others quickly caught on that Cantor was awake and they hastily surrounded his bed, most oblivious to his struggles to sit except one certain pegasus. Once again, the room returned to it’s fuzzy silence; the heart monitor bleeping quietly and the choppy fan stirring the air about the place, failing at doing it’s job in the hot, sticky room. It seemed darker than before, whereas Cantor had grown used to his vision being that of an underdeveloped photograph, now he could just about make out the fan blades amongst the black ceiling. A dingy yellow flowed up the walls from the two nightlights, one behind the cabinet at the side of Cantor’s bed, the other in a deserted corner of the room, looking somewhat sorry for itself as it feebly illuminated a portion of the dark aqua carpet. The thick brown curtains were drawn and moonlight seeped in under the gap between the drapes and the white pained window frame.

“Hey there, sleepyhead! How ya feelin?” Asked Pinkie Pie with little concept of whispering. To hear her happy voice made Cantor smile, content in the knowledge that his affliction hadn’t dented her free spirit in the slightest.

“Honestly…” Cantor started, giving up with trying to sit and reluctantly accepting his prone position. “Much, much better than… before.” He answered, looking to each of his friend’s faces. “Especially with all you guys here.” He added with a meek little grin.

“Aw, shucks.” Said Applejack. “Y’all know we’d never leave ya alone in a big ol' grey hospital when ya nearly… got hurt, real bad…” She affirmed with a relaxed posture, leaning over the railings at the foot of his bed with Rainbow Dash to her left.

“Yeah.” Rainbow agreed, swiping at the air indistinctly with her hoof. “Normally I’d make jokes about this and go and fly the anxiety away, but…” She came over all serious at that moment, bowing her head and peering up at Cantor with sincere pink eyes. “You really had us going, Cantor… I really though you were gonna… you know…” She made a forlorn noise along with a sigh that very few ponies had actually heard come from Rainbow before. “We lost you before… I don’t think we could go through losing you again…”

Everypony quietly nodded in solemn agreement, keeping their eyes to themselves and retaining a deathly silence. “Well, that’s in the past.” Cantor coughed, trying to sit up once again, prepared to fall back again, but that’s when Fluttershy helped him. He felt her soft, yet surprisingly strong forelegs press into his back and he lurched upright, extending his hooves behind him for support. “Thank you, Fluttershy…” Sighed Cantor, breathing rather heavily. “Thank you very much.” He added, drawing a bashful giggle from the yellow mare.

He managed to shuffle backwards into the pillows at his headrest so he didn’t have to support his cumbersome body. Looking to his right, he noticed the jug of water he suddenly felt like he needed. Nowhere near as desperately as before, but still, he was parched. He reached out to grab it, but Rarity, who was standing closest, nudged the trolley away with her rear leg. “Uh, uh, uh…” She sang whilst shaking her head. “I’m dreadfully sorry, Cantor, but the doctor said you can’t have any food or drink until your blood is clean… otherwise, you’ll… get rid of it again…” Her face became a shameful light pink as she explained. “He said that your stomach walls are extremely thin and that anything other than… those supplements-“ She said whilst pointing to the bag of murky cream liquid in the bag connected to the tube penetrating Cantor’s nose. “will make you, um… vmmt…” She mumbled whilst turning away a fraction, unable to speak such a ghastly word.

“Oh…” Cantor sighed, hanging his head to his stomach where the two pipes transporting bodily fluids emerged from under the crisp, fluffy duvet. “Well, I suppose being thirsty is better than that…” He added, peering back up to Fluttershy who was staring at the many devices, plastic bags and ‘hat stands’ which kept her friend alive.

“My, my…” Gasped Fluttershy, quiet as ever. “I’ve never seen so many drips…” She added, remembering the most she had ever seen was on the strange miniature bear she looked after that one time, the koala bear. She remembered it having some idiosyncratic intolerance to the eucalyptus leaves it liked to eat, giving it chronic stomach cramps. Over all of the animals she had cared for, the koala bear had been in Fluttershy’s ‘top five’, simply because of its adorable face.

“What are they all for?” Asked Twilight, the only pony on Cantor’s left. She was examining the dials and readings on the machines, trying to decipher their unfathomable sequences of numbers and apparently pointless letters. With the image of the large tube between his legs, Cantor winced and squirmed with mild disgust.

“You don’t want to know…” Sighed the stallion with a little laugh. “Anyway…” He began, rather hoping to change the subject before the focal point of the conversation became that of his stallionhood. “How long have you guys been here?” He asked, twisting to the side slightly to try and stretch his back out.

“About two hours, Cantor…” Twilight replied modestly. Cantor appeared shocked and awed at the same time.

“You waited two hours… just to be with me when I woke up?” He asked in disbelief, ridiculously indebted to his friends for their compassion. Honestly, Cantor was overjoyed that they waited. After the scare, the last thing he wanted was to be alone. Even though he was in the hospital; another pony wouldn’t be more than a shout away, having these specific pastel equines here with him made him ever so slightly emotional.

“Well… It’s more like three hours…” Applejack added, her Stetson making her whole face completely black. “We came here at the last visiting hour before the hospital closed, we were gonna leave but that doctor Stable said we could stay here in case you woke up.” She blinked slowly and rubbed the corner of her right eye with the tip of her hoof.

“Well… what’s the time now?” Cantor replied, staring around the room in case there was a darkened clock he could pretend to read.

“Ten o’ clock.” Replied the tired farm pony, drawing another gasp of appreciation from Cantor.

“Wow…” He commented. “Thanks, guys… Thank you so much…” He had to pretend to itch his eyes to cover the fact that he was tearing up. “That means so much to me…”

“Heeeey… Come on now!” Called Rainbow from the foot of the bed. “Don’t go all sappy on us; I know you’d all do the dame thing if it was me sitting there.” She shot with a dispersive smile. Rainbow Dash – if not for her ability to clear the sky in ten seconds flat, would no be able to do the same for a room full of heavy air. She executed this perfectly; if only she could do the same with her stunts, then maybe she wouldn’t end up here twice as regularly as Cantor.

“Oh, that reminds me:” Rainbow added, lounging over the railings so her head nearly touched the duvet. “How did you end up in here anyway?” She looked around, for the first time taking into account the sheer amount of wires, tubes and machines effectively keeping Cantor alive.

Cantor ruffled his feathers as best he could in a sitting position before replying. “Well…” He began with a slightly ashamed tone. “It was a kind of… experiment that went wrong…”

“Heh!” Rainbow Dash laughed, shooting a suggestive wink at Twilight. “Like two peas in a pod, you two!” She exclaimed as she began to laugh at her own joke.

Cantor had to admit that her comment was quick enough to be humorous, but nopony else really exceeded a giggle. The alicorn patiently waited for the self-amused pegasus to calm down before he continued. He frowned as his thoughts turned dark. “I’ve turned in the past…” He started, to nopony in particular; watching his hooves circle against each other as he spoke eerily calmly. “Remember when I um… hurt Pinkie…” The question went unanswered: it wasn’t supposed to be. “Well that happened again. Except instead of hurting one pony… I hurt about a hundred. Including princess Celestia…”

Twilight, intrigued beyond reason, pulled up the chair behind her and sat down, the weight of the baby beginning to take its toll on her tired hooves. All the mares seemed to lean closer for a better earful, for not the first time, to listen to an interesting story this stallion had to tell. “Basically, it turns out that this spaceship is powered by some sort of gemstone, like… a kind of stone that absorbs magical energy. Celestia said she needed me to ‘fill it up’…”

Cantor paused, waiting for any questions from his friends, yet it seemed as though they were well educated on the matter. With nothing being said, Cantor simply decided to continue. “Something went wrong. At least… I think something went wrong…”

“What happened?” Twilight asked, ironic how it was only now she asked a question after Cantor’s five second pause.

Cantor nodded rapidly, making out as if to say ‘I was getting to that’. “The machine did something to me… or I did something to it…” He peered with sorrowful eyes at Twilight, as if he had just broken a heartstring promise. “I changed, Twilight… I just… I couldn’t help it: it all happened so fast…” Twilight became perplexed, hanging her head and silently nodding.

Whenever Cantor ever started to loose control, he would slip further and further away from help until he was venting the pent up rage at such a rate, pretty much nothing could stop him until he finished. This had only happened twice in the past year: once, when he thought a stallion had attacked Twilight after some confusion with a rogue weather incident in which all blame pointed to a peachy cream coloured pegasus who barely escaped with dislocated legs and wings. The alicorn hunted him down and confronted him in the middle of the night, but his demonic rage miraculously left him before he could tear the limbs from the pegasus’ body. Another incident was a little less dire: the alicorn became enraged at the brutality shown towards ponies in the distant past by griffons after he requested an in-depth education in Equestrian history from the oldest princess. And before he laid waste to their nation, Celestia herself brought him from fury by explaining how killing an entire species would make him far worse than the griffons ever were.

All in all, Cantor was a very placid pony, he would never dream of harming a pony - much less killing them. And although he had killed in the past, in doing so, he saved the lives of twenty or more ponies - including a young filly. However, when he did turn nasty, that’s when you started to run. “I’m really sorry… I just, feel myself loosing control and then it gets harder and harder to calm down until I’ve vented.” Continued the self – loathing alicorn, dropping his head once again to his less than busy hooves.

“Aww, that’s okay, partner.” Applejack bespoke, shooting a reassuring smile to the stallion. “Everypony jus’ needs to let off some steam sometimes…”

“True.” Noted Cantor, lifting his eyes to where he guessed the orange pony’s would be. “But when other ponies ‘let off steam’, it usually doesn’t end in everypony else around them being injured. Or worse.” He replied glumly. Applejack darted her eyes about the room for something to turn her focus onto, she didn't know how to respond to such a grim quip.

“Well that’s just something you’re going to have to learn to control.” Said Twilight with a comforting tone, smoothing Cantor’s hair out of the way of his face. “And I can help you to do that by telling you something you need to remember.” She added softly. The depressed looking stallion stared hopefully up at the unicorn, becoming calmed and experiencing a well rounded sensation of unity with her kind eyes.

Twilight leaned into Cantor’s personal space and kissed him on the lips. There was nothing more between them except tender contact and tranquil thoughts as Twilight showed her undying love for the stallion, no matter what kind of monster he became; she would always love him, she would always remember how willing he was to die for any of his friends, and like he told her, he would sacrifice his life especially for her. Like always, rather perceptibly so, the thought of loosing Cantor – even the thought – made Twilight feel shattered inside and out. But like love does, that one special pony could make all the fear and darkness go away, much like she was doing now, in simply touching her lips to his.

When Twilight Sparkle pulled back and slowly opened her eyes, she was greeted by what she treasured the most: Cantor’s deep orange eyes which seemed to light up whenever he was thinking about her. “Always remember that I’ll always love you.” She spoke with her softest voice available, barely audible over the thick science, yet her words rang through Cantor’s ears like thunder.

Cantor smiled cordially, the kind of serene smile only achievable by somepony at the height of their life, which, evident in Cantor’s current condition: being kept alive by chemicals, punctured and probed by pipes and tubes, showed just how important a force like love really was, and what it could mean to anyone at the lowest point in their life, and also at the highest, pushing the bounds of serenity far beyond that of paradise into some kind of godlike bliss one cannot simply describe with words nor feelings nor actions. Love requires an intimate bond between two minds, two assets to the universe, capable of comprehension and understanding who’s concern for each other is so strong and so vivid that they cannot simply imagine how something like eternal damnation in the fiery abyss of hell could possibly be worse than being apart from the one they loved. This is exactly the feeling Twilight and Cantor shared, and this is exactly the reason the two felt alive.

Cantors shoulders fell loosely from their tensed position as he sighed heftily. “Thanks, Twi…” He replied graciously with puppy-dog eyes. “You always know the right thing to say…” The only thing Cantor could think to do at this moment was leap out of bed and embrace Twilight tightly and never let go, but the bed, as well as a lot of other things, kept him tied down. Nevertheless, he was more than happy with the notion that the mare he loved with far more than just his heart was simply there with him.

“Don’t mention it, sweetie.” The purple mare replied with a slight blush, which only increased when she clocked the five mare’s stunted giggling all around her. “What?” She sighed humorously, staring from face to reddened face.

“Sweetie?” Rarity chortled. “You call Cantor ‘sweetie’?” She giggled into her hoof and shot a most embarrassing wink at the mortified alicorn.

“Yes.” Twilight replied whilst smiling disarmingly. “What’s wrong with that?”

Rainbow Dash, who was the most hysterical of all the mares answered. “Nothing’s wrong, Twilight!” She laughed for a short while before mounting Cantor’s bed and staring into the alicorn’s face. “Just know that from now on, I’m always gonna call you ‘sweetie’.” She grinned darkly at Cantor before residing to her flank and laughing up at the pet name.

Cantor shook his head, nearly as amused as he was embarrassed. “Now look what you’ve done!” He grinned towards Twilight, who merely gave her contribution to the room of giggles and scoffs. Eventually, all the ponies were laughing their heads off. Their bout of hilarity, fuelled now only by each other’s laughter, ended abruptly when a male presence cleared his throat deliberately, silencing everyone as they slowly turned to the owner of the voice.

Dr. Stable stood in the wide open doorway, the powerful hospital lights making his specks glow a ghostly white. The seven ponies had been so busy laughing that they hadn’t noticed the new intrusion of light no less than ten seconds ago. “I do hope you realise it’s quarter past ten at night, my little ponies.” Droned the doctor, looking as if he had been up since yesterday. He slowly crossed the room and replaced Fluttershy’s place by Cantor’s bedside. When he became near enough, the dark bags were very evident under his eyes, even with the absence of light. The butterscotch unicorn was not wearing his usual white coat, instead, he was naked, spare his rimless glasses, and for once, his cutie mark depicting a heart monitor connected to a living patient could clearly be seen. His manecut looked rather unkempt and he needed a shave. If not for his extended knowledge into the field of medicine and his educated spectacles, one would be forgiven for thinking this pony lived on the streets, out of bins with a cardboard roof over his head.

Cantor peeped past the doctor, and for once, could see down the hallway without being blinded as if he had stared at the sun through a telescope. His idle gazing was (as usual) cut short by Dr. Stable’s dull, but never doubtable caring voice. “Remember girls,” He started. “This is a hospital, it is late, and visiting hours did end a little over two hours ago…” He sighed laboriously, repeating one of his key movements and massaging the bridge of his nose with his hoof, pushing his specks up as he did so. “I’m sorry, everypony, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The seven other ponies came across heartbroken, not necessarily at the thought of leaving their sick friend, but because the shortness of Dr. Stable had come across as incredibly rude and harsh. The doctor rapidly caught onto this and justified himself with the best dismissive smile he could muster in this languid air. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He said with genuine empathy. “It’s been a… stressful couple of days. The only reason I ask is that we’ve had a complaint from a couple of ponies nearby about the noise.” He scuffed up Cantor’s hair and pulled his covers down to his waist.

“Could somepony perhaps turn the light on?” Stable asked politely as he squinted to the point where the two pipes left the alicorn’s stomach.

“Sure!” Replied Pinkie happily, leaping over to the doorway, landing on one of her rear hooves and bending backwards like a graceful ballerina. As she did so, she extended a foreleg which made contact with the switch on the wall. After a second, a bright, but far from blinding light flashed into life in the middle of the ceiling fan. Pinkie Pie giggled and capered back to the bed, landing exactly where she had begun; to Stable’s right, giving a little dip of her knees as she did so.

“Thank you, Miss Pie.” Said the doctor graciously, to which Pinkie merely beamed and examined what the doctor was doing closely, always enthralled in everything in her true Pinkie Pie fashion, with this being especially intriguing.

“Wat’cha doin’?” enquired the pink mare, mimicking the doctor’s line of sight, following the two tubes down to their respective canisters below Cantor’s bed. One was a thick, dark red colour and the other had the same hue as concentrated apple juice.

“Mmh hmm.” Dr. Stable mumbled contently, signifying that all was in order. He returned to Cantor’s stomach where the tubes emerged and prodded around the slightly bloody fur gently with his hoof. “Does this hurt, Cantor?” He asked, keeping his eyes on what he was doing.

Cantor shook his head. “No, doctor.” He answered with a sincere expression as he watched the yellow hoof press down all around the incision.

“Good.” Replied Stable, turning to face the alicorn. “That means there’s no infection.” He gave a small chortle under his breath – an even rarer occurrence than the occasional smile as he added: “Really though, from what I’ve seen in the past, I wouldn’t have expected any less from you.” He finished with a trustworthy wink to the stallion, signifying their friendship outside of a doctor-patient relationship.

“What are they for?” Asked Pinkie, genuinely interested in what was happening to her friend. That, and the fact that she had always been somewhat interested in the hospital scene after many a stomach-ache from failed baking experiments.

Dr. Stable, proud of his job; eager to share his knowledge, took an instant kinship with the usually imprudent pink mare and asked her whether she was interested or not. Of course, Pinkie replied with an astounding yes, and, glad to be sharing his passion, Stable took his time running over what each machine, pump and drug did in layman’s terms to keep Cantor alive. Or at least aid his long recovery. Stable explained what the chemicals in the drips did in the stallion’s body, not intending to give a medical lecture, but captivating the other ponies in the room – especially Cantor.

He told Pinkie about the drip which kept Cantor’s stomach from “eating itself”, which the sprightly as ever mare found incredibly humorous, despite the severity of the situation. He told Pinkie – in fact all the ponies as they were listening so adamantly – about the new drip which was keeping Cantor’s pupils normally sized so he could at least see the faces of his friends without any pain. Stable also outlined the basics of the cardiovascular regulator machine, explaining that it was currently keeping the alicorn from having a heart attack by sending dull electric shocks into his heart to keep it beating regularly. It was only then that Cantor realised how dire his situation was: that a single switch no less than three feet away from him could mean life or death. Though he had no fear: he knew he was in very capable and caring hooves.

Once Stable had finished his ten minute ‘tour’ of the machines in the room, Pinkie discovered she still had one last question that had gone unanswered. “Uhhh, Mr. Doctor Stable, sir?” She asked, tilting her head and giving the yellow unicorn an adorable smile with her sparkling blue eyes.

“Yes, Miss Pie?” He replied, giving Pinkie a smile of his own.

“What’s this other tube for?” She quizzed, prodding the third blood filled pipe which disappeared beneath the rest of the covers delicately with her hoof.

The doctor’s smile disappeared and his face returned to the serious, ‘business is at hoof’ expression he wore daily. “This," He begun, looking at Cantor with sombre eyes for a moment before turning back to the others. "And there is no delicate way of putting this, though I will try... is a tube taking 'the shortest route' to our friend's bladder." In true doctor fashion, Stable seemed unfazed by the less - than comfortable situation.

Pinkie, enthusiastic though she was, took a second to shoot a dumbfounded look the doctor's way. "What's that mean?" She asked with an inquisitive frown.

Dr. Stable turned to Cantor, and without hindering the alicorn's wide, embarrassed eyes, answered bluntly. "Cantor has a tube up his urethera filtering his bladder." He turned from Pinkie to the red faced stallion and raised his eyebrows nonchalantly. "Sorry."

Most of the girls began to giggle, however it was only when Stable gave a sharp "Ssh!" that they calmed down. "After all," The unicorn doctor thought, "Better to nip their laughter in the bud before it inevitably evolves..."

"Wow," Rainbow Dash announced, scoffing briefly into her hoof. "As if your day wasn't bad enough already!" She said with a grin. She began to tug ever so slightly on the red pipeline that ran down the alicorn's chest before disappearing under the dark teal sheets. "Does it hurt when I do this?" She asked darkly. Both the doctor and Cantor simultaneously pushed the blue pegasus' hoof hastily away.

"Damnit, Rainbow!" Cantor cried, trying not to show the pain, though the colourful mare just snickered more.

Comically, though with some obvious sense of warning, Dr. Stable barked at Rainbow: "Cantor is not a toy!" Everypony but Cantor found the remark somewhat amusing, but the giggles quickly died down again.

Cantor dipped his head curiously, his cheeks still burning red, and the stinging sensation prominent in his nethers. “How did…” He started, mumbling slightly. “How did you… you know… get it in?” To his surprise, and in most senses, relief, none of the mares laughed at his question, which he mentally thanked them for. Unfortunately, Dr. Stable had other plans.

“You really want to know?” Asked the doctor, throwing a suggestive smirk the alicorn’s way.

Cantor stared blankly ahead before his face twisted to a frightful scowl. “Now you’ve said that, I really, really don’t want to know.” He couldn’t keep his straight face, and ended up snickering along with everypony else before he became serious again. “But why is blood coming from... 'there' anyway?” He enquired, gripping the duvet tightly in the fear of being exposed once again; he had experienced enough embarrassment for one day.

“Honestly, Cantor… I don’t know.” Replied Stable, frowning at the ground. “Maybe it’s an effect of the poison as it tears up your body; disrupting your urinal tract and maybe trying to cause urine poisoning. No, the reason we've put that tube there is simply because we really didn't want to risk operating on such a... temperamental patient. Which reminds me, you also have kidney stones."

Cantor groaned aloud. "Lucky me!" He said sarcastically.

"Indeed." Dr. Stable quipped, fixing his glasses resting over his nose again. "We don't operate on patients with kidney stones: the quickest, easiest, and safest way to deal with them is indeed this method, as humorously macabre as it may be.”

After a moment, he looked back up, and for some reason his eyes were filled with confused anger. “We haven’t had a case like this for years… The drug which did this to you is prohibited, and punishable by death. There was a mass suicide some years ago in Hasenshire where this drug was used." His dark frown intensified, and now he seemed to be looking through Cantor as he spoke. "I've never had a patient afflicted survive, sadly; it's just such a vicious, unrelenting poison, as I'm sure you're aware..."

Everyone was silent as the dark yellow unicorn persisted, and in some ways, felt a little uncomfortable to be there at the time.

Stable narrowed his eyes and slowly shook his head, vivid images flashing behind those glassed perched beneath his eyes. "...Such a... horrible, horrible way to die..." He stated with apparent empathy. "Nopony manufactures the stuff any more, however sources are available... Ponies can get their hooves on a good amount if they have the right status: the right connections...” His eyes widened as he seemed to realise he was staring directly at a very uncomfortable looking Cantor. The doctor stared straight into the alicorn's rich amber eyes, opening his mouth to speak as his lips trembled ever so secretly. "Like royalty..." He finally said, leaving the white stallion suspended in gripped suspense before he drew himself away and in an instance of professionalism, cleared his throat, seeming to expand the room past that one conversation and restore reality to the group.

“Come now, ladies!” He spoke strongly after his cryptic soliloquy, waking some up more than others whilst sounding rather stunted by his previous words. “My sick little pony needs his rest.” At his side joke; poking fun at Cantor, the six mares began to chuckle amongst themselves - even in light of the speech against Cantor's ailment.

Twilight Sparkle stood up slowly. It seemed that every day she was finding it harder and harder to move as the foal grew inside her. As she rounded the bed, Stable noticed the purple unicorn’s unique shape and was quick to intrude. “You’re pregnant, Twilight?” He asked with a slight smile, holding the door open as she passed through into the white hallway.

The lavender mare turned once she had passed through the doorway and gave a joyful, yet somewhat estranged expression. “That’s right.” She answered, looking the doctor in his slightly bloodshot eyes. “How did you know?”

Stable chuckled lightly, tranquil thoughts of his bed coming to him as his weekend approached. “I’ve seen enough pregnancies to know the difference between pads of fat and a bun in the oven – so to speak.” He wiped an imaginary band of sweat from his brow, standing to the side to let the other mares out of the room. “And if I’m not mistaken, you’re about two months in…” He added with raised eyebrows.

“Yes. That’s right. Just a little under two months, in fact.” The gradually expanding mare confirmed.

Dr. Stable nodded with an air of accomplishment. “And the father would be…”

“Cantor.” Said Twilight briefly, making the doctor’s forehead wrinkle as he raised his eyebrows even further.

“Really, now?” He replied with an expression depicting that of surprise, or some kind of weird fusion of acclamation and discomposure. “Well, congratulations, Miss Sparkle, I hope all goes well.”

Twilight smiled and thanked the doctor before paying a final farewell to Cantor and wandering off to meet up with her four other friends. After an unnecessary headcount, it was discovered that a certain blue pegasus was absent from the herd. Stable noticed this too, and poked his head into Cantor’s private room, where he noticed the missing mare on the other side of the bed, laughing at the stallion within and making some crude remarks about his tubes. Rather, the one tube in particular had captivated Rainbow’s gambol instincts.

“Staying for the adventures of Daring Do, Miss Dash?” Asked Stable suggestively, to which the cyan mare leapt up, completely dropping whatever conversation she was having and trotting through the wide open door with her head bowed conspicuously low, not breathing a word to the doctor, but letting her blush do the talking. Stable chuckled throatily and smiled towards Cantor as a good friend would do. “I’ll only be a few moments, Cantor.” He said sleepily. “Don’t wait up.” He quipped, to which the alicorn laughed silently whilst exhaling and slowly slid down the pillows until he was lying on his back.

The sight of the stallion in blissful comfort made the exhausted doctor envious of his warm bed and plump pillows, but as always, he lived by his rule of ‘no rest for the wicked’.

Grinning in the presence of his own thoughts, Dr. Stable shut the wide hospital door a lot louder than was deemed quiet and could be heard trotting up the tiled hallway to catch up with the six mares to see them out. Cantor stared at the walls and listened to the clopping hoofsteps slowly fade until deathly silence took over the room once again. Even the shrill heart monitor seemed distant. The alicorn slowly closed his eyes and began to drift into sleep, when his ears alerted themselves towards a hushed thumping and rumbling from somewhere in the ventilation system which ran through the entire hospital and reverberated through the thin metal grate directly in front of him near the top of the nutmeg coloured walls.

“So, I’ll… see you later then?” Asked Dr. Stable, open to the group, yet for one reason or another he was looking towards Applejack. “Are you ladies going to be alright getting home on your own?” He went to slip his hoof into his pocket, forgetting that he wasn’t wearing his coat and succeeding only in making a fool of himself.

“We’ll be fine, doctor.” Twilight answered as she took deep breaths of the cool night air, the dry, but chilly wind refreshing her from the hot and stuffy hospital. A wave of goosebumps rolled down her body and she shivered briefly. “I’m just a little cold, is all…”

Stable said nothing, he simply leaned on the doorframe of the hospital’s main entrance and briefly cast a glance over the sleeping village of Ponyville. It was a peaceful night. So much so, that even here, one might deem it unique. With a deep inhale through his nostrils, the bereaved of sleep doctor became a little more aware of the beauty around him. To the colours; the royal blue sky, smattered with an inconceivable amount of stars, bright white, like the freckles below two emerald eyes upon the face of a certain bright orange earth pony he hadn’t noticed he had been gazing at for all the time it took him to admire the ‘landscape’.

“You okay, sugarcube?” Came the pleasant southerly voice which distracted him from exactly what it was he had become distracted by. The doctor had been gawping at Applejack for some time, and she was adamant that he was going to ask her something – something completely spontaneous: absolutely anything in the world could have come out of the butterscotch unicorn’s mouth just then. But when he remained silent, the tangerine mare found she had to repeat herself.

“uhhumm… Y-yes, I’m… I’m… I’m perfectly…” He stumbled over his words, scouring his extended vocabulary for the right word, but his sudden rush of unexpected emotions caused him to stray back into lower-tier speech. “…Good.” He finished with the best poker face anypony could ever hope to achieve. He wanted so badly to smile, but he barely forced himself to breathe in the presence of that mare.

“Well... okay, then.” Replied the hayseed-blonde girl, dipping her hat slowly, with a sense of absence before she made her way off for her friends who were already a considerable distance down the beaten path at a speed which failed to meet her trademark urgency. For one reason or another.

After a single moment, a moment which seemed to last an eternity, yet only spanned a couple of seconds, a moment filled with want, need, desire, emotions; happiness, emptiness, longing, and above all else confidence, Dr. Stable called out the orange mare’s name just as she began to pick up the pace. !Applejack!?" He yelled, stretching his legs to make him appear taller.

“Yeah?” She called out, turning about her front hooves and skipping back to the doctor, who was now standing unsupported and rigid, all four of his hooves firmly placed on the ground beneath him.

“I… I was just wondering… Maybe… Maybe if… uhhh…” Stable stammered, scratching the back of his head with a hoof and turning his eyes downward, suddenly finding a lump in his throat which no amount of scientific or medical research could diagnose, not only making it hard for him to talk, but also interfering with his vision, as he found it now impossible to look the orange mare stood so close to him in the eyes and say what he was thinking. “Ah, you know, thinking about it now, I’ve forgotten what I was going to say!” He finished with a very forced sounding laugh.

Applejack merely stared at the doctor, who had somehow found the tracks in the dirt incredibly entertaining. “Well…” She spoke with the most adorable yawn nopony would expect such a well-toned mare to make. “Maybe it’ll come back to you tomorrow. I know I forget things when I’m tuckered out.” She finished with another cute little yawn, which Stable could not risk missing again. He looked up just as Applejack closed her mouth and unscrewed her eyes, her emerald green orbs glowing dimly in her half lidded eyes. Even this sight made the unicorn smile demurely.

“I know.” Agreed Stable, tracing small circles in the dust with his hoof. “I don’t usually think straight when it’s late either…” He peered back inside the hospital briefly as a pure white nurse pushed an empty wheelchair across the reception area. The doctor looked straight past the young, beautiful nurse and turned back to Applejack, adding “It was probably just some nonsense anyway…” before bidding the farm girl a gracious goodnight and turning back into the hospital with a face that showed less emotion than a dead stallion’s.

Without warning, he felt a sudden warmth on his cheek as Applejack gave him a respectful peck. The two ponies were in contact for less than a second, but something made the two seem to want to stay a while longer. Stable turned slowly around, his face now fraught with a weak cocktail of surprise and disbelief.

Despite herself, Applejack shyly turned away, partly to remind herself that she needed to get going home, but mainly as an attempt to conceal her rosy cheeks. “Thanks fer… You know… lookin' after my friend.” Said Applejack softly, her hot face being cooled by the still night air.

“Well..." Stable began, struggling to put words forward after that - even though he assured himself nothing was meant significantly by it. "...Good evening then…?” Spoke the doctor, a little quieter and more personal than he would have liked, but Applejack didn’t seem to mind.

“Yeah.” Replied the farm pony, peeping ove her shoulder with her muzzle buried in her mane, her perfect eyes framed between her wonderfully blonde hair and her rugged Stetson which she had pulled down low. “See ya later.” She stifled a giggle before proceeding to trot back down the darkened path in the shadow of her friends.

Stable remained motionless as he observed Applejack leave the hospital’s lights and become part of the night, and remained there, still, until the silhouetted mare disappeared from sight. Shaking his head in defeat, returning to the heated hospital, not paying attention to the automatic doors as they bumped shut behind him. He crossed the reception faster than expected, and soon he found himself in his office, more accurately, before his bookshelf with no recollection of his journey from Applejack’s departing to now.

He did something which was now considered a reflex movement, and massaged the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up so that they brushed the base of his horn. “Keep it together, Stable…” He muttered to himself, reaching out with his post-comforting hoof to a specific book: a large green hardback bound with gold which had been hollowed out for storage of a certain favourable single malt. He removed the book carefully and flipped open the front cover, revealing the slightly curved glass bottle of deep amber liquid with an intricate red pattern over a golden label. “You’re a Celestia damn doctor.” He scolded himself. He shook his heavy head and withdrew two shot glasses from a cedar wood cabinet discretely tucked into the corner and set them down on his work desk as he unscrewed the blood red metal cap from the stout bottle. “You should know by now that there is more than one way to break a heart.”

The main hospital lights had been deactivated and now only the occasional running light, along with the silverfish moonlight illuminated the sleeping wards. Dr. Stable ambled down the long hallway, sticking so close to the wall that his hindquarters brushed against the shallow oak railing which was fastened tightly to the vanilla coloured walls. With every window he passed, the doctor stole a glimpse at the outside world, but he never stopped to admire the stars or smell the ever fragrant night time air which carried the subtle, but evident scent of cut grass and sweet tulips.

Doctor stable straightened himself up and picked up his pace a little, heading towards the wide door at the end of the seemingly infinite corridor, the one which had a thin halo of light seeping through the tiny gap between the door and it’s frame. The doctor reached his destination and, with the bottle of whiskey and drinking glasses surrounded in his light blue-bice aura, he gently edged the heavy door open with his head. Inside, he found a very frightened looking alicorn with the covers pulled over his muzzle right up to his eyes, his ears were pulled to the back of his head and he looked as though he was trembling.

When the doctor called out his name, Cantor shrieked in fright and caught some air as his weak body tensed and he leapt from the mattress. He turned to the door and a wave of what could only be described as pure relief washed over his face. Slowly, the duvet slid down his face and his relieved expression transformed into foalish embarrassment as his grinding teeth turned into an impish smile.

“Is everything alright, Cantor?” Enquired the doctor, closing the door behind him and dragging over a chair to sit on, setting the glasses and alcohol down on the stainless steel trolley next to the big jug of water. He rested his rump on the soft blue armchair, forgetting what the prickly surface felt like as he had grown accustomed to his posh leather swivel chair in his office.

Cantor nodded his head rapidly, turning his gaze to the ventilation grille at the top of the room in front of him. “I’m fine, doc, but… Do you ever hear… noises coming from the vents?” He asked, staring intently at the thin metal mesh like a hawk watching a rabbit.

“What kind of noises?” The doctor asked, matching Cantor’s line of sight to the small metal square.

Cantor thought for a moment before replying. “Like… Rumbling, like-“ He shuddered. “Ugh… like something’s… running through the ventilation.” He kept his eyes completely still on the grate, fully prepared for some kind of evil creature to burst out and shred his weakened body to pieces.

Stable listened, straining his ears upwards to hear as much as possible, and soon enough, there was the sound which had been distressing Cantor. It was a dampened rumbling followed by several loud bangs. The doctor laughed just before the sound faded away and the room returned to the soft whirring of the fan and the quiet beeping of the alicorn’s heart. “That’s the boiler, Cantor.” He explained, making the frightened stallion’s face turn pink. “It does make sounds like that; and we’re looking for the money to get it replaced…” He smiled warmly as he poured himself a cumbersome amount of his drink into one of the large glass shots. “Admittedly, yes, the old girl has been responsible for several ghost stories that have come about the place…” He explained as he watched the glass slowly fill, replacing the lid on the bottle and staring at Cantor through the rich amber nectar. “None of them true, of course.” He added. “Do you drink?”

Cantor shook his head and held up a hoof to the offer as the pocket-sized bottle floated in front of him. “I do, but nothing like that.” He answered, watching the bottle set itself down next to the other drinking glass and the doctor flick the main lights off with his magic. Now the only light source were the two nightlights and the feeble lamp on the bedside table, it’s cream shade casting pale white light over the periphery of the two ponies, lighting enough of their faces to be able to easily tell what the other was thinking and doing, but the weak light made it little further than that. The night lights made it seem as though their golden light was attempting to climb the walls, failing to overcome the bottom half of the walls, but a valiant effort, nonetheless. The top of the walls and the ceiling disappeared into an inky darkness, like the endless void of space, subtracting even the stars. The only way anypony could tell that there was in fact a ceiling keeping more than bodies inside lay thanks to the tiny flecks of light bouncing off the shiny surfaces of the fan blades.

“Hm.” Stable chortled an amused breath. “Well, that’s not really drinking now, is it?” He replied, tipping his head back and downing the shot in one, bringing his head back around with a fiery cough. “Ask.” He said, replacing his glass down on the trolley, the non-existent dregs of whiskey forming a thin skin of amber at the bottom of the shot.

“What?” Cantor replied with a quizzical expression. “What do you mean: ‘ask’?”

“Anything.” The doctor confirmed, leaning forward and resting his head on his hooves. “Let’s just talk, like friends. It’s late and I’m going to clock off soon, but first, I’d like to have a nice little chat.”

Cantor’s facial expression changed from confused to solicitous and he sunk into his bed in slight submission. “Ab- about… what?” He asked, gripping his covers tightly.

“Like I said, Cantor: anything. Anything you want to know or tell me… I’m all ears.” Dr. Stable answered with an amused, self absorbed smile.

The alicorn thought for a moment, tapping his chin with the tip of his hoof. “Uhhh… Ummm… I… What do you…” He made his fuzzy mind audible for half a minute before declaring his absence of thought. “I got nothin’.” He said glumly.

Stable made a show of making himself comfortable, sliding his rump forward in the chair until he was slouching. He removed his glasses from atop his nose and set them down on the metal trolley alongside the whiskey bottle. The unicorn finished the look by resting his forelegs on the arms of the curved chair and touching his front hooves together over his stomach. “Do you know…” He started, avoiding eye contact with the alicorn and pretending to read the impossibly unclear readings of the machines from where he sat. “If… Applejack has a… Do you know if she’s single?” He asked with a rare sensation of embarrassment. For the first time in years, he felt his cheeks heating up as the realisation of what he had just said sank in.

An enormous grin of regale erupted onto Cantor’s face and he slowly shook his head in disbelief. “No way…” He joked, following it up with a haughty laugh. “You’ve fallen for Applejack, haven't you?!”

“Oh, it’s true!” Whined the doctor, cradling his head in his hooves, looking as though he was completely lost for any thoughts of guidance towards what else to think about other than that stunning orange mare and how to get her. “I don’t know why I feel this way, I never do, but for some reason, I can’t help but imagine us having a life together. And how perfect it would be.” Once again, Stable had the image of the smiling blonde farm girl in his head, stood next to him in front of an old timely country home in the middle of nowhere on the baron plains of the dusty north, surrounded by dark orange sand, scattered with the occasional boulder or dead tree.

“Ah, well love is a strange thing…” Notioned Cantor. “It’s just one of those things that changes with what you believe in.”

“What do you mean?” The doctor replied, bringing his head out of his hooves and staring at Cantor.

“You know… Like, do you believe in fate, or do you think everything just happens at random?” The alicorn asked, his smile dropping a little.

Stable shook his head in a diminishing fashion. “Of course everything happens at random. How can the future already be written?”

“Well, it’s a long story; dimensional planes and reality shells and stuff, but in short, everything in the future it already written, it’s just there is a different universe for every possible outcome for every single decision ever made, so it is kind of a mix between fate and chance as it is, but we are only conscious to the decisions we make – what universe we are in.” Cantor explained. Granted it was one of the simplest ways of putting it, the doctor still had a very lost look about his face.

“I just don’t understand.” Stable said, rubbing his ear with his hoof. “Everything happens by chance: uhhh, figures, probabilities, statistics… I just can’t grasp the concept of this pre-written timeline some ponies believe in called fate.”

Cantor’s smile re-ignited and he wiggled a suggestive hoof at the doctor. “Oh, but can you grasp the concept of love either; why you feel this way about Applejack?” He yawned, closely followed by the doctor. It hurt Cantor’s lungs to yawn, but granted, it did wake him up a fraction.

“No.” Answered the doctor at the end of his yawn. He rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his hoof, trying to tell his body that he did not need sleep just yet. “No, I don’t think anypony can grasp the concept of love.” He said, halting the rubbing of his eyes and proceeding to slowly go about pouring himself another copious drink. “Anyway.” He spoke loudly mid-pour, clearing his throat and waking both stallions up a little. “Did you know if Applejack is seeing anyone?” Stable asked again, eyes content on the rapidly filling glass.

“Uh,” Cantor thought, staring into the fan. “As far as I’m aware… No, she isn’t.” Stable allowed himself a little grin of confidence by the time he had filled his glass and reset the bottle on the trolley.

“Do you think I have a chance?” He asked, cradling the shot gently in his right hoof.

“Absolutely.” Cantor replied. “But one thing I’ve learned about Applejack is that she is never idle; she’s always doing something productive unless it involves her friends, so ‘taking a day off’…” Cantor closed his eyes, shook his head forcefully and wiped his hoof past the air in front of him. “She doesn’t even know the meaning of the term.”

“Oh…” Said Stable, his dark cyan eyes falling to the rich amber pool of liquor. “So… She works from the moment she gets up… to the moment she goes to bed?” He asked with pandering eyes, seeking confidence.

“Oh, God, no.” Cantor answered with a strong sense of abdication. “No one would work like that, at least I certainly wouldn’t.” The doctor chuckled, nearly spilling his drink in the process. “She gives herself an hour or so in the morning, and a few hours at night for free time, but through the day, she works so hard like you would not believe.” His eyes drifted downward and the alicorn nodded with intense thought. “Yeah… Our Applejack is one hell of a girl.” He snapped his vision back to the doctor, who was steadily raising the drink to his lips. “Tell her how you feel…” Cantor insisted, eyeing Stable’s glass retreat from his mouth.

“Maybe some day…” Replied the doctor, once again taking the drink to his slightly pursed lips, but being halted by Cantor for the second time.

“Well, I’d make it quick if I were you.” The white stallion countered, raising his eyebrows and for some reason decided to allow his eyes to meander around the dimly lit room in some attempt for something else to talk about. “Applejack (and I hate to put it this way) won’t be ‘on the market’ for long; she’s strong, gorgeous, loving, and if nothing else, the most honest pony you’ll ever meet.” He gave a light snort. “And for you… hopefully, you’ll do a lot more with applejack than simply ‘meet’ her…” He gave a suggestive wink, and almost immediately afterwards questioned why he had done that.

Dr. Stable brought Cantor from thought a smidge before he became lost in a combat of ideas and accusations within his own mind. “Well… We’ll see how the future plays out…” He said softly, his tiredness evident in his tone and his eyes as he slowly lifted the glass container of a suddenly much more attractive substance.

“Yes we will…” Cantor replied cryptically, making himself shiver with the unintended philosophical meaning behind his speech. The doctor had nearly entered the point of no return: closing his eyes and positioning the rim of the glass on his bottom lip and was tilting back slowly, trying to summon the effort to take another swig. “Um, question?...” Asked Cantor. Stable’s eyes fell open into a slightly aggravated stare at the ceiling and he allowed the shot of whiskey to fall back to a resting position on his hoof.

“Yes?...” Stable replied dryly, not looking at Cantor as he spoke.

Cantor paused for a short moment, wondering whether his question was truly necessary. Granted, it probably didn’t hold as much philosophy as many of the previous questions that evening, however, the curiosity behind this ask proved too great for the teenage alicorn to abstain from. “How did you get that tube inside of me?” He asked with a slight blush.

Stable sighed and shook his head whilst allowing his eyes to fall shut. “Oh…” He sighed, raising the drink to his lips as if it were a microphone, adamant that the sap coloured liquid would make it inside this time. “…It’s going to be a long night…” He sighed, just before throwing his head back and downing the fiery drink all in one.

Author's Notes:

I tried whiskey once: it was awful D:

"I don't want to see any more " Sto- Taken from...? If you can tell me, I'll give you a high five! ;3