About a month ago, Scootaloo asked Button a question. It was three in the morning, and Scootaloo had snuck into Button’s room to play Grand Theft Cart on his PC.

“Bang bang! That’s why you never want Button Mash to answer the scene of the crime!” Button mash exclaimed as he shot everyone involved in the robbery. He was playing a police mod and shooting anyone who commited a crime.

“Wow, Button. Overreact much?” Scootaloo said with a playful smirk.

“You know you like it,” Button responded calmly, noticing her smile.

Scootaloo noticed the Band-Aid on Button’s rump, and another on the back of his hoof. He’d gone to the doctor’s again. This was at least the fifth time that month.

“Hey, Button… Can I ask you something? And, you like, not get mad?” she asked quietly and seriously.

“Sure. What is it?” Button replied.

“Are you, like, terminally ill?” Scootaloo asked softly.

“What? What makes you ask that?” Button said in a strange tone, his ears fell flat. He promptly paused his game. He didn’t sound offended, but it was almost like there was a hint of sadness to his voice.

“Well, you keep going to the doctor’s. And you’ve been doing weird stuff lately. I don’t know that many ponies who spend all their time doing literally whatever pops in their head. Like ordering pizza at two in the morning. Or saying stuff like ‘Oh, well, everypony dies anyway.’ The other night, I woke up, and your face was covered in blood. You just shrugged it off and cleaned your muzzle. It reminds me of ponies that, like… are dying”

Button sighed, and swallowed softly. “I don’t know yet. My doctor says I most likely… Well, I do have stomach cancer. I just don’t know how bad yet. “

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Scootaloo replied as her eyes shifted downward. She shuffled a bit in place, staring at the floor.

“You can’t tell anyone. Nopony else knows. Nopony. Just me, my doctor, and you. Other ponies don’t need to know. They’ll just freak out about it,” he said. Then he was silent for several moments. “Besides, I’m ready”

Scootaloo furrowed her brow and pursed her lips, trying to grasp what that meant. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “What do you mean by… ready”

“Well, I mean, I always say 'everypony dies anyway.' Nothing matters. Everything is insignificant. So, if I know the end is near, I’m just going to bang and do drugs all day,” He smiled playfully, trying to lighten the mood. Scootaloo giggled at the thought of sex for a moment.

“I wish you wouldn’t think of it that way. I’m here for you. Whenever you need me, I’ll be here. Even if it’s just to talk,” Scootaloo offered.

“Trust me, talking doesn’t help the thoughts. Because it’s the truth. What does it matter if I die today, or if I wait? It’s going to happen eventually, and nothing I did will matter,” Button looked away and unpaused his game. The two took turns playing, and didn't mention the illness the rest of the night.

Chapter 4: Depersonalized

Scootaloo stared at the blood. Color draining from her face. Her ears drooped and tears slowly leaked from her eyes. A soft gasp escaped her. Limping, she snuck into the bathroom. Using her right hoof, she opened the cabinet and grabbed some bandages. She wrapped them tightly around her wound, applying pressure. Once she finished she taped the bandages in place. She raised a brow and inspected her first-aide work. No blood was leaking through the bandages, so she concluded she had successfully stopped the bleeding.

"Well, that doesn't look suspicious at all," she scoffed at herself. Attempting not to limp, she returned to her room. She went to her dresser and opened her workout clothes drawer. She moved aside all the hats and headbands, looking for one item in particular. "Come on, where is it?" She huffed and frowned before slamming the drawer shut. Tapping her right hoof on the ground impatiently, she gazed about the room and caught a glimpse of something blue under her bed.

Scootaloo's eyes opened wider and she smirked. Reaching under her bed, she found a blue wristband with a Wonderbolts symbol on it. Rainbow Dash had bought it for her last time they went to watch the Wonderbolts perform. She carefully slid the wristband over her bandages and made sure it covered them completely. Practicing trotting on her newly injured arm, she went to her mirror. She looked at herself from all angles, trying to convince herself that the wristband didn't look fishy. She was already confused by what she'd done, and certainly didn't want anypony else asking questions about it.

After investigating herself to satisfaction she went and hopped up onto her bed. She let herself fall down on her side, and stayed there how her body fell somewhat bent in half. Scootaloo spent several minutes just staring at the wall blinking, not a single though in her head. No emotion showed on her face. She was breathing slowly and regularly, but other than that she did not move. It was almost as if she were detached from herself and all thought. She didn't feel. She merely existed.

After about an hour he sighed and rolled over. Scootaloo closed her eyes and covered her muzzle with her arm. She felt the warmth of her breath on her arm. A cool breeze rolled into her room from her window. She could hear it whistle and feel it's cold brush through her fur. She could feel the sheets on her bed beneath her, and the thickness of the mattress push back against the weight of her body. The clock ticked as always, and it began to annoy her. After realizing she could sense all of these things around her, anxiety began to creep back in along with all her other usual thoughts and feeling. She became Scootaloo again, no longer detached.

"I need something sweet to eat," Scootaloo thought. "That'll help."

Grabbing her saddle bags and a few bits, she left her room and mounted her scooter. Using her wings to propel her, she traveled swiftly to Sugar Cube corner.