Author's Notes:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R5FDc0tTA3o

The Hooves household was strangely empty on that Saturday morning, the day after the Object appeared. Upstairs, not a pony could be seen trotting about, even though the curtains had been drawn open and the sunlight was shining through the windows. And in the bedrooms, the beds lay empty, and the sheets were tucked in firmly at the sides—unused for days or more. No, there was nopony in the main body of the house.

Yet if somepony were to have stood in the foyer or the living room, they would have heard the sound of something moving beneath them. The sound of metal on metal, of hooves moving carefully across the ground, of things occasionally falling to the ground followed by a short bout of cursing.

For down the rickety wooden stairs and into what appeared to be a large concrete bunker, a tall brown earth pony was hard at work. The centre of the room was covered in a big blue tarp which held some sort of half-built structure of metal, and the space and worktables that lined the walls seemed to be filled with… more parts.

The brown earth pony was standing in front of a mirror, gazing at his reflection. His eyes—no matter how hard he tried to stop them—kept darting towards the one gold ring at his ear lobe. He lifted a hoof to touch it—but before he got there, he lowered it and leaned down to pick up a screwdriver between his teeth.

He trotted over to another workbench, and his eyes traced the edges of a small contraption that sat there, just below eye level. A moment later, his eyes lit up in realisation and the pony reached forward with his screwdriver, pointing it at one of the screws. He tried to turn the screwdriver once, twice, three times—but it simply didn’t want to budge.

“Hmm?” He spat the screwdriver out onto the workbench with an odd sound, and then used his hoof to flip it around. Then, a sigh. “Of course I had to grab the wrong one… ugh, I don’t even know if I have a Fillyps head this small… or maybe in the kitchen…?”

Grumbling, the stallion turned away and shimmied between the piles of junk and crud until he reached the hoof of the stairs.

He hadn’t even gotten to the second step before, as fate and circumstances would have it, he was given another reason to go up the stairs: a sharp knock on the front door.

“Coming!” he cried out, and he quickened his pace. A few of the boards seemed to bend down as his hooves touched down on them, but since none broke he didn’t have the time to worry about them.

By the time the stallion reached the door, he was gasping for air. He took a moment in the foyer to compose himself, and then—

Another knock!

The stallion sighed, and pulled the door open. Immediately he had to squint; the light was so very, very bright. He shook his head quickly, trying to regain his vision.

“Good morning, Doctor!” came a chipper voice from in front of him. Squinting, he was able to make out a yellow coat and a bushy orange mane.

“C-Carrot Top!” he exclaimed. “What brings you by at this hour?”

As Carrot’s form began to take shape in his field of view, Doctor Whooves could see she was raising an eyebrow. “It’s nearly ten.” She leaned forward, eyeing the stallion. “Did… did I wake you up? You look awful.”

“Heh, thanks,” Whooves said, rolling his eyes. “No, I’ve just been working. Got a few new projects in the works, and I’m hoping I can have something to show for it by the time the Summer Sun Celebration rolls around.”

“Ooh, I’m curious to see what you’ve got this time.” Carrot smiled, but then her expression turned grim. “Hey, I couldn’t by any chance ask a favour of you, could I?”

“Oh, of course,” Whooves replied. “I’ve been needing to stretch my legs, anyway.”

“Wonderful. Could you meet me down by Carrot Ranch in… oh, about half an hour?”

Whooves nodded. “I’ll be there.”

Smiling, Carrot turned and started to walk away. “Thank you! And please say hi to Derpy for me!”

Whooves blinked. “R-Right.” He closed the door, latch quietly clicking into place. The room once more was dark.

He stood in the foyer for several minutes, finally feeling at his ear with his hoof. Sighing, he used a divot in his hoof to rotate the gold metal until the ring came off. He stepped back into the living room to set the thing on top of a cabinet—next to a spare key, so he knew it couldn’t go missing. Then, after one last look, he turned back towards the stairs. Carrot Top hadn’t been specific about what she needed, so he’d have to come prepared.

Doctor Whooves’ mouth lay agape.

“It sure is a sight, ain’t it?” A laugh followed as Carrot Top trotted up beside the stallion. “I don’t know where they came from—they just showed up this morning like they’d always been here.”

As Carrot had said, the thick, churning mass of deep grey clouds looked like it had always been there—and that it always would be. But two odd things stood out about it. For one, the clouds only rolled out to the edges of Carrot Ranch, ending abruptly at the fence that marked the border of their property. The other strange thing was that the liquid pouring from the sky was red.

Whooves’ eyes were wide, gazing into the fray. “Just like that, huh?”

“Yep.” Carrot sighed. “At least it’s not what I thought it was at first, or else everything woulda really been ruined.”

Whooves stepped forward, stretching out a hoof. A thick drop of sticky liquid splashed down onto his coat, and he shuddered. Stepping back, he gave his hoof an experimental lick. “P-Punch?”

“You got it,” Carrot replied. “Which still ain’t good for the crops, but I was worried it was gonna be… well…”

“Blood,” Whooves affirmed, and Carrot nodded her head. Whooves looked down, watching the red liquid trickle down the stony path that led to the farmhouse. “And your sister? You’ve got her out of the house?”

“Yeah, I sent her to the Apples’ for the day. Told her I’d get this all resolved.” Carrot laughed nervously. “You can fix this, can’t you?”

Doctor Whooves hummed. “Most likely. I’m… just not quite sure how yet.”

“I’m sure you’ve got to have some crazy contraption or something...” Carrot looked to Whooves, pleading with her eyes.

“...We’ll see,” Whooves said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “Hrm.” He listened as the pitter-pat of punch raining on the farmhouse resounded all through the fields. “How come you asked me and not a weatherpony, anyhow?”

“Most of them are off at a meeting with the Department of Weather up in Cloudsdale,” Carrot explained, “and the only pony they left behind is…”

“Rainbow Dash?” Whooves cut in, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Carrot said, “and she’s impossible to find.”

Whooves nodded. “Yes, I can see that. I suppose I should go find some help, no?”

“S-So you can’t do it by yourself?” Carrot asked. “I don’t know if I’ll have the bits to pay oth—”

“Oh, no, no bits required,” Whooves replied, cutting her off. “This is just a gesture of goodwill, from one neighbour to another.”

“You live clear across town,” Carrot deadpanned.

Whooves just smiled weakly. “See you in a few?”

“Yeah. I’ll just be at Sweet Apple Acres for a while, but it shouldn’t be long until I’m back.”

With that, the two ponies parted ways, each taking a different direction down the long dirt path. Each hoofstep sent a small burst of dust billowing up from the ground, nigh on mirroring the voluminous clouds above Carrot’s farm.

“You sure this isn’t your doing?”

Whooves was seated in Fluttershy’s cottage on one side of a small table in the living room. Across from him was the butter yellow pegasus, sipping at a cup of tea, and something that was much, much taller than either of them. Discord’s snake-like body bent up towards the ceiling, forcing him to shift his neck down so he could join them. Still, he seemed to be enjoying himself—even though he had turned his teacup into a Klein bottle and consequently was having some difficulty with drinking the tea.

“Of course I’m sure,” Discord replied in that sarcastic tone he always used, except when speaking with Fluttershy. “I’ve already done the whole clouds-raining-odd-liquid thing, and I assure you that I am not a one-trick pony. Nor a one-trick draconequus, for that matter.”

Whooves bit his lip. “But this has your name all over it…”

Discord laughed. “You said it was punch, didn’t you? My clouds rain chocolate milk. The two beverages are hardly alike; I’m not sure how you could confuse them.”

Whooves facehoofed. “Fluttershy? Do you know if Discord did this?”

Discord frowned and crossed his arms, but said nothing. The Klein bottle fell to the floor and shattered into a smattering of tiny Möbius strips.

Fluttershy took another sip of her tea. “Mmm… I’m not sure,” she replied in her usual soft tone. “I’m sure that Discord would have told us if he did, though.” She turned to her tablemate. “Wouldn’t you?”

Discord just rolled his eyes. “Well… maybe.” Fluttershy glared at him, and he twitched. “Alright, fine! Yes, of course I’d tell you! Tartarus above…”

Whooves took one last gulp of his tea. “Thanks for talking to me, anyway. I’ve got to run, but I hope the day finds you well.” Setting the teacup down, the stallion hopped up from his seat and trotted over to the door.

“Mare, that stallion’s annoying,” Discord grumbled.

“I’m still in the room.”

“I know,” Discord replied, “and I was hoping you would leave it.”

Whooves shrugged, and walked out the door.

“Oh, Discord, don’t be so mean,” Fluttershy rebuked him—or at least as much as she could without raising her voice. “You know he’s only trying to help Carrot.”

“He could’ve asked me for help, instead of jumping to conclusions,” Discord replied. He was absentmindedly drumming a couple of his claws on the table and looking to the floor where the tiny glass pieces sat, strewn about beside his feet. His nostrils flared.

Fluttershy said nothing, instead opting to take another sip of tea.

As Doctor Whooves entered Ponyville proper, the sky was bright and blue and the birds chirped from the trees. He did not like this. The ponies walking by him, more and more as he got further into town, didn’t help at all either; when Whooves was working on solving something, he preferred complete silence. But that couldn’t be helped, at least not then.

“Hmmm…” he hummed aloud. “Should I talk to a unicorn, perhaps? Maybe Princess Twilight, if she’s available?”

The answer to this question, however, became immediately clear once Whooves reached the centre of town. The plaza had always been the busiest place, given how many storefronts and domiciles lined its edges, but on that day it seemed busier than ever. Yet, oddly enough, the ponies were mostly sticking to one area; while they were all over the storefronts, nary a pony was anywhere near the centre.

Nopony except one, that is. The form of the purple alicorn was distinct even from a distance, standing nearly a head taller than anypony else around. What’s more, she seemed to be working on some sort of device, wires running from a metal box up to the large black stone that towered over her.

As he approached, Whooves’ eyes wandered along the edge of the plaza. Ponies coming out of shops would pause and whisper to their companions or even complete strangers as they walked by—all after staring at the stone behemoth.

“Good morning, Time Turner!” Twilight Sparkle’s voice called, and Whooves turned to see she was waving at him. When the mare had first arrived to town, Whooves had joked that his name was ‘Time Turner’, based on his cutie mark—and nobody ever had the heart to correct Twilight.

“Morning, Princess,” Whooves said, nodding his head. “What have you got here?”

Twilight scratched her head. “I’m… not quite sure yet, actually. This… thing apparently just came out of the ground yesterday morning, so now I’m trying to figure out what it is and why it appeared here, of all places.”

“Hmm…” Whooves looked up and down at the stone. “Looks kind of like a claw, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps,” Twilight said, pursing her lips. “I can’t be certain, though. Anyway, what brings you ’round here?”

Doctor Whooves looked confused for a moment, and then he blinked in realisation. “Oh, right! I was wondering if you perhaps could help with an… issue down on Carrot Top’s farm? She came to me for help, but I think it would be a lot easier for someone who’s more magically-inclined.”

Twilight looked from Whooves to the button-filled panel on top of the metal box beside her. “Um, maybe? What’s the problem?”

“There are strange clouds overhead, very thick and distinctly unnatural in formation,” Whooves explained quite matter-of-factly, “and they are raining fruit punch.”

“Have you tried asking Discord?” Twilight giggled. “Or maybe Pinkie Pie?”

“I already talked to Discord, and he said it’s not his doing,” Whooves grumbled. “And Carrot said that all of the weatherponies are out of town, so… I guess I don’t quite know what to do now.”

Twilight tapped her chin with a hoof. “Yeah, I’m not sure that I can help you. I might have a lot of magical power, but… did you see Rarity when I accidentally switched our cutie marks and she had to do Rainbow’s job? I’d be like that, but… without any sort of pattern. Clouds are surprisingly hard to hold onto, let alone move—even with alicorn magic. And I’m really not practiced with weather work, unfortunately.”

Whooves’ face fell. “Well, thanks anyway. I guess I’ll see if I have a contraption I can cook up, maybe cannibalise some parts from one project…”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

“What do you mean?” Whooves asked.

“Just because all of the current weatherponies are out of town doesn’t mean there isn’t anyone who used to be a weatherpony.”

Whooves blinked. “Oh… yeah, you’re… you’re right.”

Twilight merely smiled. “Honestly, I’m surprised that you didn’t ask her in the first place. She’s—” The mare stopped suddenly, giving Doctor Whooves an odd look. He could see her eyes dart up to his ear, to the empty space. “Wait, aren’t you? I could have sworn—”

“It’s... complicated,” Whooves breathed. “It sounds like I have a pony to talk to, though, and you”—he glanced over at the stone—“look even busier than I. A good day to you, Princess, and thanks for your help.”

“You can just call me Twilight!” the alicorn called after him as he walked away. If Doctor Whooves had heard her, he didn’t show any sign of it. Twilight let out a sigh, and turned back to her work.

“You’ve got to face your feelings, old fellow. You’ve got to talk to her, and make things right.” Hoofsteps on gravel, moving back and forth in a dim alleyway. “You’ve got to help Carrot Top, and this is really the only way. She’ll say yes, if even just for Carrot. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Whooves gulped. Still, he finally broke out of his back-and-forth line and trotted a half a block down the sidewalk until he reached the steps of a small storefront, packed in between two apartment buildings. ‘Equestrian Postal Service’ read the familiar sign above the door. Whooves took a breath as he stepped up the stairs and pushed the glass door in.

A spine-tingling breath of frigid air hit his coat, but he walked onward. The whole place was as small and homey as he remembered—a tattered couch on one wall, stamps from all over the world on another, and a short line of disgruntled ponies in front of the counter. A few ponies he recognised, but not their names—he never had been good with names.

But there was one pony in there whose name and face he could never forget, not even if he wanted to. She stood on the other side of the counter, talking quickly to the first pony in line and pointing towards a few rows of numbers that were printed on the countertop. Her navy blue apron and cap complemented her grey coat and blonde mane as well as they did the first day Whooves saw her.

Unsure what to do—and figuring he couldn’t just push his way to the front of the line—the stallion trotted over to the couch and plopped himself down. Despite the tears in the upholstery and the foam sticking out in large patches, the thing was actually more comfortable than most Whooves had had the displeasure of becoming acquainted with. Then, he waited.

Watching, and waiting. The clock ticked by above him, but he didn’t care to crane his neck out just to read the time; knowing it wouldn’t make it go any faster. So instead Doctor Whooves watched as the mare behind the counter stamped envelopes, weighed parcels, and punched digits into a computer machine. He’d seen her do this dozens of times before, sure, but after so long… there was an enthralling, droning repetition of it all. Calming, even, and he could feel his eyelids begin to droop.

“Doctor!” he heard somepony call, and his eyes snapped open. He was met with two yellow eyes right up close in his face, and a lock of yellow hair was tickling his nose. As soon as the mare noticed he was listening, she pulled back a bit.

“G’morning, Derpy,” Whooves mumbled. He looked down to his hooves, avoiding her gaze. “How’ve you been doing?”

“Just peachy,” Derpy said, cheerily. Whooves looked up. There really wasn’t a trace of sadness in her voice, or in her expression; she just looked happy to see him. “And how are your inventions coming along?”

“Mmm…” Whooves hummed. “Somewhere less than peachy, but at least above plummy.”

Derpy let out a girlish giggle. “You always know what to say, Doctor. I’m glad to have you around, yanno? Really a light in my life.”

Whooves blinked. “R-Really? But I thought…?”

“Shh…” Derpy put a hoof to his lips. “Look… I know that I was mad at you. And I know we both said awful, terrible things we regret. But that’s just it, isn’t it? We regret being mean, and that’s what makes us nice ponies.”

“I mean…” Whooves started, but then trailed off. “Hrm.”

“It’s in the past now,” Derpy continued, “and although it happened, and it hurts, we just have to move on.” She booped him on the nose. “Is that okay with you?”

“Y-Yeah,” Whooves stammered. “That’d be… great.”

“Perfect!” Derpy grinned. “Now, what brings you here, anyway?”

“Oh, right!” Whooves cleared his throat. “I was asked by Carrot Top to get help clearing some rogue clouds by her farm, and I figured you’re the best mare for the job.”

Derpy nodded. “Since all the better weatherponies are out of town, right?”

“No, no, not like that, I just—”

Derpy stuck her tongue out. “It’s fine, silly. I’d love to help. Ready to go?”

“Sure thing,” Whooves replied. He stood up from the couch.

“Hey, what about us?” called one of the ponies still waiting in line in front of the counter.

“Yeah!” called another

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a jiffy!” Derpy exclaimed. Before she could hear out any further objections, she had grabbed Doctor Whooves’ foreleg and pulled him out the door. “Alley-oop!”

“We’re going the wrong way!” Doctor Whooves exclaimed. Derpy’s forelegs were wrapped tight around his torso as the pair of them flew together.

“Stop shouting, or I’ll drop ya!” Derpy giggled. “But isn’t this the right way? You said Parrot Top, right?”

“Carrot Top!” Whooves snarled. “The only one around here. You know, your friend from college?”

“Ohhhh! Right!” They lurched rightwards suddenly, and Derpy pulled a very narrow U-turn in the sky. Whooves closed his eyes tight, and he was suddenly very happy he’d skipped breakfast that day.

A few minutes passed, and Whooves could feel the breeze nipping at his coat. With his eyes closed, though, it almost felt like Derpy was just hugging him as they lay on the grass in a park, on a picnic. He let that image fill his mind, focusing on the red and white checkered squares…

“We’re here! Braaaace for landing!”

Whooves barely had time to open his eyes and steady his hooves before Derpy glided them straight down into a pile of hay with a loud thunk, sending hay up into the air.

“Ungh…” Whooves groaned as he stood. “Rough landing…”

“I thought it was fine,” Derpy said, wearing her usual grin. “So, where’s this problem?”

“Up there,” came a voice from behind them. Whooves turned to see Carrot Top making her way down the path from Sweet Apple Acres. “Good timing, Doctor. And I see you’ve brought your lovely wife…?”

“Aw, don’t make me blush. I’m just here to help!”

Carrot Top raised an eyebrow. “Erm… no offense, Derpy, but I’m not sure what you can do what the Doctor can’t, at least not here.”

“Watch and learn, sister. Watch and learn.” Derpy bent her knees and before Carrot and Whooves knew what was going on, she jumped up and flapped her wings speeding off into the sky. Nowhere near as fast as Rainbow Dash, of course, but still nothing to shake a stick at. Carrot and Whooves looked on in awe as the grey blur spun around in the sky. Her hooves reached out, batting at the clouds to make them dissipate. One by one the clouds vanished, creating bigger and bigger patches of blue sky. Within fifteen minutes, only a few spots at the edges remained.

Derpy did one last fly-around to catch the few stragglers and then, once she was satisfied with her work, she glided down to the entrance of the ranch—where she was greeted by the applause of Carrot Top and Doctor Whooves stamping their hooves on the ground.

“Thank you so much, Derps!” Carrot said cheerily, rushing in to wrap her forelegs around the mare. “I couldn’t have done it without you!”

“No problem!” Derpy replied. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right,” Whooves said with a laugh.

“And thank you too, Doctor,” Carrot remarked as she pulled out of the hug. “Really glad to have both of you in my life.”

“And us to you,” Whooves said. “Have a good day now.”

“And don’t forget to tell us if you need help with anything else, ya hear?” Derpy shot Carrot a large, exaggerated wink.

“Well…” Carrot tapped her chin. “There is one thing you could do for me.”

“Oh?” Hooves raised an eyebrow. “And that would be?”

Carrot grinned. “To come over for dinner later! We’re having a nice carrot stew, and I would love to share it with you.”

“That sounds lovely, Carrot,” Derpy said before Whooves could reply. “We’ll be here around five-thirty, that okay?”

“Perfect.” Carrot looked back at her farm. “Well, I’ve got a lot of chores to do and a lot of punch to clean up. See you later.” She walked off, leaving Derpy and Whooves there in the middle of the path all by themselves.

Whooves sighed. “I don’t even like carrot stew.”

“I know,” Derpy said, “and I don’t either. I just wanted to do something nice for her.”

Whooves’ lips curved. “You really like doing that, don’t you?” He wrapped a foreleg around her neck. “C’mere, you. Let’s get back to town.”

They walked side by side down the path, and Whooves kept stealing glances of Derpy out of the corner of his eye as they went along. What kept him looking was to make sure that his eyes weren’t fooling him, but they weren’t; there was no golden glint among the smooth grey fur on her ear.