Willpower is curious thing. It can carry you further than your muscles should physically be able to withstand. With enough of it, you can achieve mental feats that should be well beyond the parameters of realistic expectation. Manage to hold on to it long enough, and you can overcome impossible odds. It is, in many ways, the short term game changer. The downside of pure willpower, however, is its temporary nature: It’s prone to erosion if relied on over an extended period of time. If you’re under a massive amount of stress the moment it finally gives out, it can lead to serious complications. Like, you know… temporary hysteria.

I didn’t remember why I was confined to the hospital bed with newly personalized straps. The joyous experience of hearing about it second hand brought to my attention that there were many things I didn’t remember: For starters, there was an apparent lapse of sanity, as I was singing in perfect harmony with Pinkie by the time we arrived. Nor did I remember the bad reaction with medication that led to coinciding maniacal laughter, or nimbly dodging Nurse Redheart’s attempts to accost me while I ran about the room stark raving naked, doing my darndest to reopen the recently sutured abdominal wound. It was also alleged that, when cornered, I had pulled a full on Lady Godiva, mounting the poor nurse and holding on for dear life while she ran around the hospital in a panic. Yeah, I was having a hard time believing that one myself.

“Please tell me you’re kidding” Fluttershy sat at my bedside uncomfortably, contemplating her response

“Oh... okay… I’m kidding”

“Really?” Turning my head towards her, I felt the slightest bit of hope

“… no…”

Doh. No wonder they strapped me down.

“Um- about that… there’s kind of more.” Looking away, Fluttershy managed to convey an even higher level of awkwardness. Well, it can’t be much worse than founding the first annual riding of the Redheart festival can it?

“The reason she panicked in the first place was because you managed to get the needle with the sedative away from her when you jumped her.” Grimacing, I would have face palmed had my arms not been strapped to the gurney. I stand corrected. Hopefully I at least didn’t-

“Then you kind of injected her with it when you almost fell off.”

Oh.

“…On her flank“

Oh somepony kill me already.

“And yelled something along the lines of ‘Hi-Yo Silver’ when she tried to buck you off”

KILL ME

I looked away, completely and totally mortified. Or rather, I tried to look away. My current state of immobility rendered me unable to do anything other than look to my right side instead of my left. Freedom is what you do with what’s done to you, or so I’ve heard. Thus, I executed my only current freedom, the aptly named: The Kate looks to the side dramatically with a not so small serving of self loathing freedom. Fluttershy scurried over to the other side of the bed, trying to make me feel better.

“There, there, it’s not that bad. It was only a bit of morphine; it could have been worse.”

“How so…?” I asked cautiously.

“Well, if the Nurse and I hadn’t gotten in an argument over how much to give you, she’d have tried to give you a much higher dosage… then you would have given her a much higher dosage, way too much for her body weight, and it probably would have been enough to put her in a coma.”

You may have embarrassed yourself Kate, but at least you won’t be imprisoned and/or tortured until end of time. Somehow, that platitude wasn’t making me feel any better. Utilizing my single freedom once more, I tilted my head to the other side.

The fact that I had lost it, even for a short period of time was unsettling. I’m not a control freak: control over my circumstances has never really been a luxury I’ve been able to afford, much less control over others. The fact that I had been fairly successful when it came to retaining control of myself was an important tenet of who I was. It irked me to no end that I’d temporarily relinquished said tenet, though the combination of the injury, paranoia, and a certain Pink demon’s undeniably contagious strain of crazy made the tattered state of my psyche more understandable. Between today’s alleged occurrences and the previous day’s drunken debauchery, I was beginning to wonder if Equestria had already battered my ability to control myself into oblivion. So disturbing was the thought I hadn’t even realized Fluttershy had been talking.

“-What I’m trying to say is if it’s something you like… I wouldn’t mind, every once in a while” The yellow Pegasus looked like she had just said something very difficult.

“Sorry Shy, you wouldn’t mind what now?”

“You know, as long as it only happened behind closed doors.” She iterated the caveat firmly.

“No, I missed the first part.” I regretted the prompt instantly, as the expression on her face changed to one that looked rather dejected. We both sat in the awkward silence as Nurse Redheart came to change my IV, still holding a grudge if her glare was any indication. Small screen Hugh Laurie had better bedside manner; she said nothing and only made fleeting eye-contact to stick out her tongue, though I could hardly blame her if half of the things I’d heard were true. Turning back to Fluttershy, all distractions fled from my mind. From the way she was looking down I could have almost sworn the sullen Pegasus was pouting. She didn’t speak until the nurse was out of earshot.

“Um… please don’t make me say it again after this.” She squeaked. “If it’s the sort of thing you like… you’re not that heavy… just as long as it’s not in public-

Wait. What?

“I have a few saddles... Because- I mean… everypony has different…itches they want their special somepony to scratch. Um- NOT saying we’re a real couple, but I’d rather you do that with me than take it out on random mares and nurses” The effort required to not picture the implied activities in question was immense, contorting my face into a look of comic horror. It must have been mistaken for serious consideration, as she quickly amended the offer.

“Or you know, you could wear the saddle… if you wanted. I can go both ways. If you don’t like saddles… um- bareback is… nice.” Her voice progressively quieter with the last part. My eye was twitching from the mental stress.

Notpicturingitnotpicturingitnotpicturingitnotpicturingit-The mental image finally broke through: the Pegasus was sitting astride my back, rear legs locked under my stomach, front forelegs both propping herself up and holding the reigns simultaneously, gently tugging on the bit in my mouth, wings fully extended. “That’s a good little pony, yes she is. You’ve worked so hard.” Imaginary Fluttershy reached down to stroke my hair, nickering into my ear. “Would the little pony like a bite of mommy’s apple for her reward-”

“NOOOO!” Fluttershy jumped back with an ‘EEP’ from the sudden reaction, as I tried very hard to hold on to the draining resource previously known as my sanity.

“Sorry! I mean no, no, no, no, no, Fluttershy. It’s - geez- it’s nice of you to look out for me and all…” I paused, trying not to think about the circle of hell that particular doozy of imagination had damned me to. Now was an increasingly bad time for me to be strapped down, as I had a growing urge to pull my own hair out. “I don’t have an ‘itch’ like that.”

You sure Kate? You didn’t seem to have any problem picturing how that would-heh-go down-SHUT UP INNER ME.

“Oh. And I talked to Rarity.” The sentence instantly filled me with a sense of dread

“What did she say?” I wasn’t looking forward to the answer. Rarity and I had hardly hit it off at the spa, and she seemed rather dead set on preventing me from using her best friend. The smile I received in retort had barely concealed edge to it.

“Um- a lot. She’s waiting out in the lobby with Sweetie Belle. Are you up to seeing her? There are a lot of things she has to say to you.” The wicked glint in her eye was disturbingly similar to the one wielded by imaginary dominatrix Shy, so out of fear, I muttered my agreement.

“I’ll try, but I doubt she’ll have anything nice to say.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” Fluttershy flashed me the edgy smile again, a look more suitable to a Corleone than the element of kindness. “Let’s just say her and I came to a little understanding.” The touch of understated menace was foreboding.

Note to self: Do not piss off Fluttershy

“I’m so very sorry I marched you through town like I did.” Rarity’s voice was almost panicked, completely lacking the confidence and sly demeanor she had maintained during our excursion. I was at a loss on how to respond, though it turned out my response was unnecessary. Smiling at me sweetly, Fluttershy turned to Rarity; she was out of view, but judging by the alabaster mare’s reaction, she had received a very different nature of look.

“Oh? Is that all?” Assertive Fluttershy’s voice made us both flinch, and temporarily stopped Sweetie Belle’s coloring.

“Perhaps I could have been less pushy about the spa.”

“I get why you were, its fine.” Normally I wouldn’t have been quite so quick to forgive, but Fluttershy’s sudden surge of intensity made me want to clear the air as quickly as possible.

“And?”

“Thank you for saving my darling sister, of course.” Rarity was becoming more and more flustered under the yellow pegasus’ withering stare. Having felt the full effects of it while patching up the sparrow, I rather pitied her.

“No biggie.” At this point, I kind of just wanted the Pegasus beside me to calm down. My feelings went unheeded.

“AND?” Rarity’s ears splayed back as she tried to gather some semblance of dignity.

“There’s no need to snap, dear Fluttershy. I was doing it for you, so perhaps an exception is in order-“

“No exceptions” assertive Fluttershy almost barked. “Exceptions disprove the rule.”

“Oh fine you flying terror.” Rarity mumbled the epithet under her breath, barely loud enough for me to hear it. “Kate, I’m truly sorry I asked you to the spa under false pretenses. It wasn’t very friendly. I don’t plan to interfere in you and Fluttershy’s... thing.” A glare from the pegasus had her scrambling to change the word “-er I mean, ‘relationship.’ Fluttershy is a dear friend, and anyone dear to Fluttershy is dear to me. I mean that sincerely, not just because somepony is coercing me.”

“Thank you Rarity. And you don’t have to thank me for saving your sister. I’d have done that for any foal to be honest, regardless of the injury.”

“That’s something I’ve been wondering, how did you get hurt Ms. Kate? I had my eyes closed tight and when I opened them you were holding yourself.” The tiny voice stopped all three of us still. Sweetie Belle had stopped coloring at some point and was currently staring at my bandaged abdomen. Think fast Kate.

“Um. Angry gopher. Punched me right as I was falling down from catching you.” I’m not usually that bad of a liar, but give me a break, I’m pretty sure on the safe or sorry scale of morphine, Nurse Redheart had seen fit to put me firmly on the safe end of the dosage spectrum.

Thankfully, Sweetie bought the farce, obviously furious as she went back to her coloring, muttering something about trying to get her cutie mark for varmint hunting.

“Yes, Pinkie filled us in on the details of that… gopher… and lets just say I’ll be making you more a few more masterpieces as a thank you.” Rarity trotted forward and gave me a gentle foreleg hug, minding my injury, and I tried not to notice as Fluttershy ‘harrumphed’ unhappily at the gesture. After that gesture of peace, the stalwart Pegasus at my side deflated like a balloon, the hot air she’d apparently been holding in seeping out all at once.

“Um… I appreciate it Rarity. Sorry I made you wait in the lobby.”

“It’s fine Fluttershy, though you really didn’t need to use the stare on me, I was planning on coming on my own. Now on to more important matters: Any requests in particular?” The question was directed at me, and the memory of the previous dresses almost triggered an involuntary wince

“Well, I do kind of need new pants and my only tank-top has now has a… er, gopher shaped hole in the center… and if you do make me dresses, could they be a bit longer?” A playful smirk played across Rarity’s face.

“So if I were to only make you dresses, you’d have to wear them?”

“With bloodstained yoga pants underneath” I countered.

“Foiled again,” Rarity sighed, looking down to her sister. “Sweetie, didn’t you have something you wanted to give Kate before we go?” Lifting the filly telekinetically onto the gurney did nothing to distract from her concentration.

“Yeah, just a second, it’s not finished yet.”

“Alright, well I’ll let you sit up there and keep Kate company, sister needs to talk to your Aunt Fluttershy in private about a few things, okay dear?”

“Okay.” Sweetie paid them no mind as Rarity took Fluttershy aside, but I found myself looking over suspiciously. Surely they wouldn’t talk about me right where I can see them. Several not so discreet glances my way told me otherwise… Yes let’s all gossip about the human chained to the bed while she’s out of earshot and has to guess at what you’re saying… I rolled my eyes. Ponies: not the most subtle creatures in the universe. Something poked at my hand. Sweetie Belle nudged the picture toward it, twiddling her hoofs.

“For me?” I’d wondered about the coloring obsession. She nodded, light green eyes looking away in a pout.

“Yeah… I don’t think I’ll be getting my cutie mark in art anytime soon though. That one was my third try. Promise not to laugh?”

“I would never.”

The small things in life can often be the most meaningful: Experiences can sound stupid and pointless in theory, however, in practice hold far more weight than they have any right to. Getting a handmade picture from a kid who’s under the delusion you’re the coolest thing in the world? Let’s just say it definitely ranks on my top five… even if I had no idea what I was looking at.

To say the picture looked somewhat ambiguous would have been a mild understatement. It originally struck me as slenderman planking a brown log while vibrating and holding a bunny. On second look, I became convinced it was a shaking anteater with bunny ears getting a stand-up laparoscopy. But Celestia be damned if I didn’t I love that Parkinson’s addled anteater at first glance.

“You can’t even tell what it is, can you.” The filly looked deeply hurt, misinterpreting my reaction.

“Are you bucking kidding me??? I love anteaters. I’ve always wanted a picture of one, I was just thinking about how I’m going to have to brave the hazards of navigating Ponyville to get a frame for my first ever picture of an anteater. You do know what happens when I go outside right?” My melodramatic lament, combined with my attempt to use Equestrian slang sent the filly rolling in a giggle fit, a feat so rewarding I almost didn’t feel it when her hoof bumped into my stitches. Thankfully, she didn’t notice the sharp intake of breath.

“It’s not an anteater silly. It’s you.” She indicated the black figure, and once again, I found myself wishing my hands were free so I could facepalm. I’d forgotten the small detail that the filly’s eyes had been closed throughout the entire affair. In reality, I’d not gotten any air while catching her; it was more of a three phase scenario of step-stumble-poke. In Sweetie’s eyes I had made like Chow Yun Fat, hurtling through the air arms outstretched to seize her from the fast approaching ground, only to land- Er, nope, still no idea what the brown thing is.

“What is that?” I pointed to the brown laparoscopic blob that seemed to be coming into contact with where my very blurry and poorly-defined stomach would be.

“That’s Mr. Gopher.” Sweetie growled. “There will be restitution”

Her determination was so convincing I couldn’t help but laugh, though it hurt my abdomen like hell.

“You mean retribution?”

“Yes. That.” Sighing from trying to hold in the mirth, I shook my head with a smile. Considering how dedicated she looks, I should probably head off the CMC Salem gopher trials before they begin. Well, no, I’m sure they’re responsible- Her current expression was dark enough to give me pause. A mental image of Sweetie Belle telekinetically dragging the local Gopher down to the river and holding him under, before lifting him out and shouting ‘WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?!’ didn’t really seem all that far out of the realm of possibilities.

“Sweetie, the gopher was just minding his own business and I jumped on him. No need to go kicking in the local gopher holes.”

“Aw. I wanted to try getting my counter-terrorism cutie mark.” She looked genuinely disappointed.

Gopher waterboarding: Not something I need on my conscience.

“Yeah- see, no need for that. If anything, the gopher was acting in self-defense.” Nodding, she finally appeared to accept the logic.

“Well if that gopher ever decides he wants to give you redistribution, the crusaders have your back.” For the millionth time, I cursed my straps. Her fierce protectiveness of me was adorable, and highly deserving of a head pat.

“Thank you, if I’m ever in trouble I’ll know who to call.” I wasn’t taking it seriously of course, but my voice was surprisingly void of sarcasm.

I mentioned before that sometimes the smallest things in life can be the most meaningful. Unfortunately, that’s not always a positive, as the human psyche is a fragile thing. Most physical wounds heal, eventually fading into tough scars that are not easily reopened. Psychological scars are not so simple; the smallest pin prick to the proper neuron sending a metaphorical lightning bolt through the unfortunate receiver, reanimating long forgotten trauma in a millisecond. It can be anything that activates the chain reaction, a photo, a faded letter, or a long forgotten melody.

Fluttershy and Rarity were still in the midst of their ‘private chat’ when Sweetie Belle started to hum, doodling away at another piece of paper. The first thing I that struck me was how beautiful her voice was. Even though she was only humming, I could still tell; it was the sort of voice that gets those wonderfully dramatic a cappella solos in choir, the sort that every alto is jealous of. The second thing that struck me was how familiar it sounded. My knuckles were suddenly white, attempting to cease the shaking in my hands by gripping on to the railing of the gurney. It struck a chord deep in my subconscious, resuscitating a long discarded memory that laid somewhere my mind had long since walled off. Whatever it was, I hated it.

The moment familiarity gave way to recognition, my world slipped into despair.

For all the infinite variables required to align for something so astronomically unlikely to occur…

It was almost cruel. Of all the possible melodies to carry over, to this world from the previous…
Why. WHY that song?

I no longer saw Sweetie Belle, or the two mares gossiping by the door. I no longer saw the hospital.

I saw a forest, stretching on as far as the eye could see. It was almost pitch black, floor covered in snow, the sounds of the evening surprisingly silent, mixed in with a few random noises that I wasn’t able to identify. However, those were not the noises that enraptured me, drawing me closer. A faint medley of voices rang out, originating from a distant cabin, the single light in the surrounding void

Run Kate. Turn around and run, or float away; whatever it is you’re doing just get away. Seeing this won’t make coping any easier.

No. I wasn’t going to run anymore. I was tired of running. How long had running been my solution to everything? My resolve was shaky, nearly abolished with every ethereal step.

Please don’t. This will only hurt you.

I was almost expecting it to. This was something I had buried deep. But it felt important. If I didn’t dredge it up now, I ran the risk of never finding it again. Drawing closer, I began to be able to distinguish lyrics, sung by several flippantly off key voices.

“…Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And days o’ lang syne”

Peeking in the window took every ounce of courage I had left. Three figures sat huddled around the fireplace: two of them holding mugs, sipping on hot cocoa as they sang, and the third, larger figure holding an acoustic guitar. So great was the contrast between this stranger and the man I knew as father that it took me almost a minute to recognize him. There was no beer belly, and his eyes that had long since been empty were now sparkling, full of a mirth and liveliness that was almost alien to me. The middle-aged woman held a very familiar freckly brunette in her arms; I waited for the recognition to click, but it never did. I’d completely forgotten my mother.

‘Mother’ had become a word synonymous with ‘monster’ in my life. When I thought of my ‘mother’, instead of a person, I saw the faceless operator of a wrecking ball, smashing through my childhood home. Nothing more, nothing less. If that was my mother, who was this strange being that happily held the younger me? A loving arm was wrapped around me while she tried rather comically tried to cool the hot cocoa and sing simultaneously.

What killed me wasn’t how little I recognized her, but how little my mother resembled the monster I had envisioned her as. Not in the slightest. I began to understand why these memories had been so thoroughly buried. You can’t deal with crap like that as a kid: It represents a gray your moral compass isn’t ready to process. Kids love fantasy stories for a reason; the valiant knight clashing with the wicked dragon, the virtuous gunslinger versus the nasty bandits, the stalwart space marines pitted against the jingoistic aliens; Kids are geared to see things in black and white; good versus evil. Expecting a child to process the fact that her mother is not a monster, yet still abandoning her is pointless: you’d have an easier time expecting that same child, having been raised on optimistic fairy tales, to appreciate the collective works of the Brothers Grimm.

As it turns out, such a bitter pill isn’t any easier to process as an adult; instead it simply becomes a painful, uncomfortable possibility. Her face was not the face of evil. It was the face of a real person. I wanted to reach out to touch her, to ensure this was in fact real and not just the façade of love. The moment my arm moved, I felt resistance from the ties that held me down a universe away. Sweetie’s lyric-less humming of the Equestrian equivalent continued as I was abruptly yanked back to the present. I blinked several times, feeling a wetness on my cheeks.

A mirthless chuckle died in my throat. Rejected by a friend, thrown into another universe that seemed to consist of the sum of my fears, chased down like a dog, bullied by a princess, stabbed in the stomach, and driven partially insane by a neon colored demon, yet it’s the whisper of a Filly’s melody that silently breaks the dam. It’d been years since I’d truly cried.

Everything had just taken another layer of complication. I wasn’t particularly driven on my arrival in Equestria: Sure, I’ve been transported into another world, but hey, it's winter break. I was going to be laying around doing nothing anyway, other than possibly going back for Christmas. Long as I get back in a month, this might as well be a vacation… okay, maybe this is a rather crap-tastic vacation to my own, personalized, fluorescently camouflaged section of hell, but I’m trying to see the the glass half full here.

What I’d just relived had changed things. I needed to get back to earth, to look my mother in the eye and see for myself what was real and what was only in my head. I wasn’t really trying to get home… per say, my apartment wasn’t a dwelling I’d refer to as a ‘home’, and it had been almost a decade since my Father’s house had felt anything other than empty. I needed to properly understand my past if I had wanted any chance at a successful future. More than anything, I needed closure. And therein laid the problem:

Wherever home is, or was…

…it’s not here.

Rarity had glanced to the side, finally spotting my quiet distress. Her horn glowed softly from across the room, a tissue clearing my face. For someone who had treated me so insensitively only a day prior, the gesture was surprisingly thoughtful. She was able to instantly identify that my discomfort wasn’t physical, and tactfully saved me from the thousands of questions I’d have been pelted with, had evidence of the tears been spotted by the currently distracted filly who colored beside me.

“Sweetie Belle. It’s time to go, Kate needs her rest.”

“She can sleep while I guard her from gophers.” The filly offered. Rarity shot me an apologetic smile.

“Fluttershy will be here to protect her dear, not even the most audacious gopher would cross her.” Sweetie Belle nodded to Rarity, then turned aside to whisper conspiratorially to me.

“Sister’s right, but don’t make her angry. You wouldn’t like Fluttershy when she’s angry.” The grave tone of her voice told me she was talking from personal experience. I laughed, though it wasn’t entirely genuine.

“I’ll be careful.”

Sweetie looked to the picture I still held in my hands, curiosity dancing in her eyes.

“Are you really still going to frame that? Even though it’s not an Anteater?”

“Of course. But only if you sign it for me. That way It’ll be worth three times more when you’re famous” I deadpanned. Delighted, the filly complied with the request, initialing SB in silver crayon at the bottom left of the ‘painting.’

“Sweetie Belle, now please.” With one last smile to her and Rarity, I closed my eyes, hoping Fluttershy would follow suit, taking the hint that I wanted to be alone.

Thump.

No such luck. The sound of somepony climbing up the hospital bed and sitting herself in tiny Belle’s old seat deflated that hope, the faint smell of jasmine shampoo leaving little question to her identity.

“What’s bothering you?” The question, and accompanying deep blue eyes were deceitfully sympathetic, leading me to assume I might be able to dodge the question and pull a fast one on the Fluttershy.

“Morphine’s just starting to wear off. I’ll be fine as soon as the Nurse re-ups my meds.” I closed my eyes again, hoping the white lie would sate the mare’s curiosity. There was suddenly a change in lighting, blinding me even through my eyelids.

Note to self: Never try to pull a fast one on Fluttershy.

Opening my eyes with a wince, the source of the change wasn’t hard to identify. The overhead directional lamp, typically used for operating had been toggled on. In the center of the light was Fluttershy’s face, her expression completely changed, cold blue eyes glaring down. You’ve probably heard the saying “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” Well, as a woman, I can tell you there’s no contest with an angry Fluttershy. If hell’s fury was outclassed by mine, then the righteous anger resonating from Fluttershy could have sent hades itself sprinting to the nearest confessional.

It would have sent me running as well, had I not already been tied up.

“You listen to me Missy,” Fluttershy seethed. “You don’t have to talk to me, I understand the need for privacy better than most, but you-“ She leaned down close enough that my nose was touching her muzzle. “WILL. NOT. LIE. TO. ME.” By the end of the emphatic command, her whole forehead was pressed up against mine, eyes still bearing down. “

“UNDERSTAND?”

“Er. Yes. Yes ma’am.”

“Um… okay, just so we’re clear.” With that, the light was switched off

“...Now what?” I wasn’t exactly clear on what I was meant to do. Or rather, what I was meant to do to keep her from hulking out on me again.

“Well, now, we wait.” She said, not breaking eye contact. “You can either talk to me, or I can sit here and keep you company while we play the quiet game.” She twiddled her hoofs absent-mindedly. “I don’t like to brag, but I am really good at the quiet game.” The subtext was clear. Either you talk, or my puppy dog eyes slowly consume your soul. It was controlling, it was abrasive, it was borderline manipulative.

Yet, it was kind of sweet.

“Can we just say I’m feeling a little homesick and leave it at that for now?” It wasn’t a lie, more an ironic retelling of the truth. Regardless, I was still tense waiting for her reaction.

“I suppose. Anypony would feel a little homesick in your position.” The Pegasus wrapped me in a warm hug, wings and all, careful to avoid my injury. “That’s all I wanted to know, we can talk about it more later.” Had I been able, I think I would have hugged her back. She sat back, a bit more distant, the trademark timid behavior cropping up again. “You do look tired… so if you want me to go I won’t take it personally at all.”

“Not so fast. It’s your turn.” I said, rather irritably.

“Who-Me? What’d I do?” Her sudden convenient burst of naivety earned a growl from my throat.

“Oh don’t play that game with me. What were you and Rarity talking about?” Her reaction was a little concerning. Looking down, Fluttershy’s face began to turn red.

“Um… just girl stuff. Now’s really not the best time to talk about it.”

“Fluttershy, that lying thing goes both ways.”

“Practice-“She squeaked. I was completely lost.

“What?”

“Rarity said if we’re going to make this believable, you can’t be a one pony show. She said the first thing that tipped her off was the fact I wouldn’t kiss you back and looked surprised.” Fluttershy’s speech was halting, shame written all over her face.

“It’s fine Shy, it’s really not that big of a deal. Acting just isn’t something you have much experience with.” I still didn’t get what Rarity was making a fuss about.

“Oh- but that’s it! If I don’t practice, I won’t get better, and if I don’t get better, I can’t help you.” Pony logic, why you so difficult. I half shrugged.

“Well they do say practice makes perfect.”

Note to self: Morphine does not make Kate a more perceptive girl.

“…As long as you’re okay with it.” It wasn’t until Fluttershy was leaning in with rosy cheeks that my eye twitch from earlier returned, and the nature of ‘practice’ she intended dawned in me. Whoa nelly. I reached up to stop her, forgetting once more that my hands were constrained. Opening my mouth to call timeout did not work well with the current circumstances, as it only appeared to be an invitation. Her lips met mine just for a few seconds, a familiar yet entirely new experience. I’d thought the sweet taste, and the way the experience had sent my head spinning into oblivion the first time was only due to the cider. I was currently in the process of realizing how incorrect that assumption was.

“Mmf!” the exclamation was almost aimed more at the surprise of my physical reaction to her than her unexpected peck. She pulled back from the noise, looking concerned.

“Sorry, was that too much?”

Now would be an ideal time to address your drug addled misunderstanding Kate.

Then… something happened. Some light in her eyes spoke bore into something in mine. My exterior was mended, but the earlier trip down memory lane had torn my insides asunder, setting my identity on fire and leaving me with a pile of ashes. Among those ashes, I found something new, glittering in the aftermath. I didn’t want to push her away.

It’s better if we don’t

I should probably get some sleep

Just be yourself and you won’t need practice.

The usual excuses raced through my mind in abundance, each one of them refusing to be spoken. My mind suddenly made its best effort to split in two.

You know, realistically speaking, she does need practice.

Oh, now you’re agreeing with her?

Think about it, it’s not far off the mark.

Even if it’s true, that’s a justification and you know it. And I don’t appreciate the play on words

Maybe it just seems like a justification, and actually is true.

Semantics; if it seems like a justification, however practical, it probably is one.

Oh please. Ethically, to not help her help you, would doom her efforts to help you, someone she obviously cares about, thus meaning in the long run you’d be turning your back on the opportunity to help someone who’s also trying to help you.

GAH, bringing ethics into something this fubar? Not to mention that is twisted logic and you know it!

Oh? What’s more twisted, my premise? Or the fact that you’re now in the middle of a full blown argument with yourself?

…

“You just caught me off guard” the words seemed to come out of their own volition.

Wait. What?

“Are you sure? -um… you looked a little conflicted there.” Fluttershy voiced the observation tentatively, still only inches from my face.

“Yeah, it was just unexpected. I suppose I’m a bit of a captive audience, so what’s the h-harm?” I could feel my face growing hot, the words, stutter included, felt incredibly foreign.

What the hell are you doing?

“Oh... I didn’t think about that; it… might be better to wait until you’re not at my mercy.” Fluttershy seemed fairly ready to back down on the realization that I was still tied to the inclined gurney. There was no alcohol in my system this time, no convenient explanation. Yet, I found myself curious… assuming we had gone rather far the night of the previous incident, what was the harm in a few kisses among friends?

“I think... I’m okay with being at your mercy. For practice. Just this once.”

WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH KATE?

“Oh, well… if you don’t mind…” Draping her forelegs over my shoulders, Fluttershy seemed to settle herself comfortably in my lap before sending my mind reeling. The second kiss had much more substance than the first, lasting an immeasurable amount of time. Pain, worry, doubts on how I’d manage to get home all began to lose their sting. She nipped my lower lip gently before we parted.

“Okay… now I’m going to pretend that Twilight’s going to walk in.”

“If-If you must.” My head was still spinning from the last encounter too much to argue. “ She leaned down again, face flushing a much brighter scarlet just from imagining the public display of affection.

THWACK

The way the door was breached combined with our current rather compromising position, I half expected the royal guard to rush in and deliver me my sentence for crimes against all of Ponykind. Still, Fluttershy’s reaction made mine look tame.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEP!” the Pegasus launched straight up, blasting neatly through one of the long, removable ceiling tiles. Tensing up, I prepared for her to come crashing back down. Her descent never came. I’m not sure what dreadfully embarrassed hoofsteps are meant to sound like, but I’m fairly certain that’s what I heard as I listened to her making her way through the ceiling, muttering ‘that’s a bad, bad Fluttershy’ under her breath, finding myself feeling more than a little betrayed.

As if summoned, Twilight stood in the doorway very still, face completely stoic other than a single eyebrow which wiggled incredulously …

Nurse Redheart had begrudgingly let me out of my bindings, if only for my meeting with Twilight, who was still trying very hard not to look like she’d just seen me do the equivalent of drop-kicking Celestia in the face.

“I... see the rumors are true.” With the way Rarity’s little escapade had gone, I’d have been somewhat surprised if Twilight hadn’t heard about it yet. After briefly stretching my legs, I nodded wearily, as there wasn’t really a point in denying it.

“More or less.”

“Well a lot of things have happened.” This new side of Twilight was all business, an odd pair of black rimmed reading glasses adorning her brow. “Before the accident, I’d been working nonstop on a magical counter-measure for your condition. The reason I hadn’t shown up before now is because I contacted Celestia right after Pinkie explained the situation. I would have come sooner had she not told me you were stabilized.”

“Er- Pinkie left before I was stabilized-or, so I heard.” Twilight waved her hoof dismissively.

“Pinkie never really leaves anywhere, if that makes sense.” It didn’t, though I felt very little need to inquire further. “In light of your recent actions, Princess Celestia seemed somewhat regretful of her ‘pre-emptive delegation of priorities,’ and either her or Princess Luna will be traveling down to Ponyville to offer assistance within the next week or two” Okay, it wasn’t just the glasses. Twilight was definitely being colder with me than before.

“Twi… did I do something wrong? You seem a little upset.” Again, she made no eye contact, flipping through some papers on the circular table. “Is it the thing with Fluttershy?”

“No- Yes- Not really. Urgh.” Snapping the folder shut, Twilight finally made eye contact with me. “I know things have been hard on you here, and I’ve been doing my best to make them easier. There’s a reason why I wanted to time you and that’s because the trail you were running was only a short ways off from the Everfree. It’s not as dangerous on the outskirts, but it still can be dangerous. Spike and I waited up all night for you to come back, before we started searching along the trail early the next morning. I was about to go a little crazy and ask Celestia to send a battalion of guards to aid in the search when Pinkie dropped in to let me know you were at Fluttershy’s.

“How did she-“ I trailed off. Come to think of it, I probably don’t want to know. “Never mind.” Twilight continued before I could segue into an apology.

“Fluttershy did tell me you were asleep, and I’m not an unreasonable mare, but I was really worried.” The honesty concern in her voice didn’t do anything to diffuse my growing sense of guilt.

“Sorry Twi. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Things have kind of been nonstop since I ran into Fluttershy on my way back.”

“So it would seem.” She looked pointedly over her glasses at the spot my tramp-stamp would have been if my back was to her, finally breaking a smile as I fidgeted uncomfortably. “and I forgive you. To be honest I find this current state of affairs to be exciting, different, and groundbreaking. I have to say my scientific curiosity is piqued, and you certainly won’t have as much trouble with the locals now that the word is out. Even if there are a few who would be unscrupulous enough to pursue a pony- er person- with a mingle mark, even less would risk the wrath of Fluttershy.” Remembering the incident of spotlight interrogation triggered an involuntary shudder. I can’t possibly imagine why.

“I’m still not sure about you both as a couple, and it’s moving extremely fast for my taste.” Twilight pushed up her glasses. “But I’m not exactly the definitive resource when it comes to relationship experience; I consider you both my friends so it’s not my place to shoot down something that obviously shows potential.” She indicated the gurney behind me coyly, and I felt my ears start to burn. “I do, however, have two conditions.”

“Sure. Name them.” The giddiness that followed being referred to as a friend by anypony still hadn’t worn off.

“First: Don’t hurt Fluttershy. She’s extremely kind hearted and I don’t think she could take a bad break up.” I nodded, that was reasonable enough. “Secondly-“ Twilight took off her glasses, locking eyes with me seriously. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

“Always am… though I’m not sure I get what you’re referring to specifically.” I cocked my head at her, nonplussed

“Reproduction.” Having risen halfway to stretch my legs again, the nonchalant statement knocked me back into the chair so hard I’m surprised my stitches didn’t bust open. Somehow, I don’t remember you being that blunt before.

“Y-you want to break that down for me a little more specifically? Just so we’re clear?”

“Well the ‘why’ should be fairly obvious.” Replacing the glasses, she peered at me oddly. “There’s never been any sort of documented occurrence of inter-dimensional reproduction. Thus, while it may not even be possible and probably isn’t, even attempting could prove dangerous.”

“Twi… even if Fluttershy and I were at that point-and we’re totally not by the way- we’re both female. Meaning no offspring whatsoever, unless you know, we went to the colt-bank or whatever you guys call it here.” I could feel the stress vein standing out on my forehead. These were not areas of discussion I was comfortable with accepting yet. For the first time since she’d arrived, Twilight completely lost her composure and stared openly at me, taken aback.

“…Kate, if you were to compare and contrast the number of mares in ponyville against the number of stallions, what would you estimate the ratio would be? Come to think of it, there really aren’t many stallions to speak of.

“Around seven to one?” Twilight shook her head.

“Not far off, but ten to one is a bit more accurate. Now, while there are a few exceptions, that ratio is fairly persistent throughout all of Equestria. In mainly monogamous society, tell me, how is it possible the ratio has remained at the same basic value for the majority of the last millennium?” My face scrunched up in thought.

“Well, obviously at some point the females would have had to come up with an alternative-“ My head hit the table with a resounding THUMP. It was so obvious now it was almost painful. The words were practically choked out.

“Magic?”

“By means of…”

“Mingle mark?”

“Bravo.”

“Oh god… please oh please tell me I'm not going to have a pony…” My face was still pressed firmly against the table. There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.

Twilight laughed at the obvious misery in my voice. “No no, silly, the mingle mark is sort of like opening the first of two doors. As long as you’re careful, and avoid over exposure to magic, you'd have to have terrible luck to-" Stopping herself, she looked at me warily. "Maybe it's better if you avoid the possibility altogether." Fluttershy... you have some 'splainin to do...

I had to ask, though I couldn’t stand the thought of more bad news: “What if something were to happen within around the first twenty-four hours of receiving a mingle mark?” I braced myself.

“Actually, being able to conceive within the first day would be right up there with the probability of miraculous alicorn conception.” The lavender unicorn’s laugh was suddenly cut off as I walked over to her and gave her a giant blubbering hug. That settles it. Twilight Sparkle is the best pony.

It was just a matter of holding out until one of the princesses arrived. For now, my mission was simple: Don’t sleep with the beautiful yellow Pegasus.


Piece of cake.





Note to self: Overconfidence generally comes before a fall...

AN: First off... I’m so, so very sorry for the chapter title. I came up with it at 5am and the pun gave me a giggle fit, I couldn’t help myself. On second thought, Its kinda crazy that the longest chapter yet has the protagonist strapped to a hospital bed 90% of the time. Hopefully it doesn’t suck.

Couple of themes’ I’ve been noticing in the comments that I want to cover in broad strokes, along with a few notes about the chapter in general

Q: Is LP actually a comedy? At points it seems more like a tragedy with comedy elements.
A: You’ll have to trust me on this, but yes, LP is a comedy. If we turn to Aristotle for our definition of comedy, it’s essentially defined as a story in which the protagonist ends up in a better place than they were at the start. It never specifies how bumpy the ride is going to be getting there. While I may drift dangerously close to black comedy at points, LP will have a good ending. One that makes you happy you were along for a ride. I won’t drop Kate back through the portal onto the concrete, send her back to a post-apocalyptic earth where everyone she’s ever known is already gone, or make her sleep with pinkie pie. That’s not to necessarily guarantee that none of those things will happen XD, but I wouldn’t dream of ending on such a sour note. The character means too much to me, as well as all you awesome readers.

Q: WTF IS UP WITH PINKIE
A: First off, dear reader, I’d like to lovingly point the part in the description where I clearly state this is meant to be a parody. Pinkie is one of the most ridiculously overpowered characters in all of fanon, so it should make some degree of sense that I’m pushing her to her to the extreme. To allay fears, in this story she’s meant to be weird, not evil. Though you’d have a hard time convincing Kate of that. The difference and subsequent break from the norm is I plan to actually explain my version of her. 4th wall breaks, creepy references, all tied in with the story (abeit in a ridiculous fashion). The Penultimate chapter of LP has already been reserved almost exclusively for her, tentatively titled ‘Requiem for a Pie.’ (no, nopony dies, geez.)
Lastly, I didn’t mean to imply that she was a telepath. She was “reading Kate’s thoughts” via skimming the italicized text of the story. Sorry that came off as confusing.

Q: Too much funny-Not enough plot/Too much plot-Not enough funny
A: I’m really trying to balance this, I am. This is the hardest part of writing LP, as I’m not particularly confident in my humor. The ebb and flow is difficult to nail down. For instance, this chapter started comically, got more than a bit of drama in the middle, then went to an amorous/semi-comical place. I will say that this story isn’t randomly going to lose it’s sense of humor; I’ll be keeping that all the way through no matter how terrible Kate's luck gets.

That about covers it. I’m still really enjoying writing this story, and still pay a lot of attention to the comments. In other excitement, LP is quickly approaching 2000 favs. It’s really overwhelming, in a good way. Thanks to everyone who’s liked/favorited/watched, it’s been quite a ride so far.

I'm moving into my new place this coming week, so updates will be a little scarce. Will write multiple chapters after I get settled in.