Gourdy diffused the situation with a very commanding voice. I don’t remember what he said. I’m still heaving, my ears throbbing. Pearl has led me back into the kitchen, I think while trying to get me to speak. She’d want to know what was going on in my mind, what I was feeling. Obviously I was crying, but was it sadness? No, it had to be fear, right? What if it was just a reflex? My body knew it should be crying, so it was…

Patches is there, her eyes filled with worry and anger. She must be upset about what happened. What happened? The stallions came at me. Well, the one was on top of me. My mind was dead by then. Wasn’t I zoned out long before? I can’t quite remember… I’m pretty sure I was drawing blank just before the incident.

My lungs are empty. I take a quick breath.

Ponies are talking loud and fast in the café. Are the police here? I don’t want to answer any questions. I don’t even want to be here right now.

I whimper and force myself to inhale again. “I want to go home…”

Pearl lies down next to me. I guess I’m lying on the floor. She puts a hoof over my back and rests my head on her shoulder. “Shh, shh… You’re gonna be ok… Cosh is here, he just wants to know what happened.”

I shake my head, awkwardly against her body. “I don’t—don’t want to—“

She strokes my head and shushes me more. Her hoof passes over my scar. It feels normal, so why did I notice that? I manage to take a full breath.

My glasses aren’t on. Where are they? Who just came in? “Timber? By Celestia, not again.” He’s quiet for a few seconds. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.” What a sweet guy. “I’ll give you… some more time.”

Cosh leaves the room and shouts some orders to other ponies. I sob again. Pearl strokes my mane. Patches leaves. My breathing is slowing. Still shaky, words find their way to my mouth while my mind plays catch-up, “I don’t want to see my brother.”

Pearl and Cosh take me home in a taxi, silent the whole way. I’ve fully come to comprehend the dilemma, and I believe I’ve told an officer everything I know. Once inside Pearl gives me back my glasses. I put them on without thinking. I feel like an idiot, having simply shut down like I had. It wasn’t even because of what happened. As far as I could tell, which is only as much as anypony else could, I was truly terrified of the thought of seeing Mill Jr.

I hadn’t even thought of Mill since getting home from Bridleway last night. What part of me thought about him and caused me to fall into such a crippling trance? Did it have something to do with the drunk ponies’ behavior? Did they somehow trigger some kind of post-traumatic stress caused by growing up with Jr? He’s never been drunk around me, or condescending enough to force himself on me. He happened to show abusive tendencies, but he never really hurt me that badly.

Cosh has stepped outside, either feeling uncomfortable or just knowing there’s nothing he can do to help. Or, did he say something about work? Maybe that was it. Justice never rests.

Pearl goes to the kitchen to get me a glass of water. I’ve still not gotten used to the flavor of city-purified water. Back in Green Stables we had our own well. It was filtered directly into our house from deep underground. Tap water in the city just doesn’t taste as clean, I guess. It’s just as refreshing, but there’s a hardness to it that I don’t prefer.

She sees the note on the breakfast bar, the one I got from Jr. She frowns at it, then brings me the cup of water. It’s not in a wine glass, but that’s probably a good thing.

“So, you’re brother came to visit?” She asks. I nod. “He didn’t seem to give you much of a choice about it, in his note.” I shake my head. I’m not trancing anymore, more or less fine. I just can’t bring words to life right now. “You don’t want to go see him, though…”

I shake my head again, then take a quick drink. It’s cool, rejuvenating, however bitter. She’s looking at me incessantly. “I don’t have many good memories with him,” I offer. Connections are made in my brain, fast as a falling star, but words are still taking their time. “Whatever few pleasant ones there are, I can never bring them to mind. It’s like I never wanted to be related to him.”

“What kinds of memories do you have?”

I shake my head slowly, “Borderline abuse. He rarely ever struck me, but the pain… it’s like it’s tattooed on me, somewhere. Somehow… He, shared my father’s ideals. They’re both painfully old-fashioned. Or, they were. Just, Jr was much less caring toward me. Toward any of us.” I instantly remembered that he gave little affection to any of us, his siblings. I couldn’t speak for them, but they couldn’t have had it much better than I. “Why did he come here…?”

Pearl sighs, leans in to kiss my forehead, then goes to the door. I watch for a few steps, then turn to look at the floor, taking another small drink. She says some things to Cosh, who was still outside the door. He canters off and she walks back toward me. “I asked him to let your boss know. It’s still Curtain Call, right?” I nod. “’Kay… Well, I told him not to tell them too much, just that there’s been an incident, or whatever. You’re taking the night off.”

I feel like arguing, but it’s probably a good thing she did that for me. If I forced myself to go to work after what just happened I might never recover. Noh would have a conniption. Is that spelled right?

Pearl touches my forehead suddenly, and I lock eyes with her. “Is that ok with you?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah, I mostly just want to sleep this off.” I don’t know if I’ll ever get to sleep, but if I don’t try then I certainly never will.

Pearl nods slowly, tracing a crease above my brow. “Ok. Stitches and Patches will probably want to come by later and check up on you. Is that ok?” I nod. “Do you think you’ll have a good time for that to happen?”

I think for a few seconds. I usually sleep for about six hours, then spend whatever free time I have left to write. I wasn’t sure if I’d get a whole lot of sleep today. I had to tell them something though. They wanted to help, I should let them. It couldn’t hurt to have friends around. “I’d say, maybe around six, or seven tonight.”

“You sure?”

I remember it isn’t even noon. Patches and Stitches have classes this afternoon, I think. They usually do on Mondays. “No, I mean noon. Just knock and I’ll let you in.”

She smiles and nods again. “Okay, we’ll see you then.”

I force a smile in response. “Thanks,” I croak. “Travel safely.”