I couldn’t sleep.

I found Blackjack and Puddle in our shared hotel room several long hours earlier, and she had explained that Basalt hadn’t exactly wanted her around tonight. But for once she was loath to explain why. Though when I asked for clarification, she and Puddle exchanged glances and started giggling, so I assumed it was something related to things only debased minds like Blackjack and the not-so-innocent Puddle would find amusing.

Which meant she was sharing the room with us. That was fine. Honestly, I tended to feel a little safer when she was around. But… tonight it just… bothered me. I rolled off of the corner of the bed that I’d been curled up on, and shook my head as I glanced over at Puddle and Blackjack. The petite earth pony was nestled up in the crook of Blackjack’s foreleg, pressing the older mare toward the edge of the bed.

The sight didn’t make me jealous. Not really. If anything it just made me feel more alone. Sure, there were a few other emotions floating around my heart, but at the moment, I really couldn’t be bothered to sort them out. I just battened down the hatches, settled in for a stormy mood, and slipped from the room out of that still-broken window. Room Service really needs to get that fixed, I thought as I tested my wing. I couldn’t fly far on it, but it gave me an excuse to practice gliding before I lighted onto the packed dirt below. I stumbled on the landing, making the mistake of setting my left hoof down first. Okay. Yes, that still smarts when you do that, Threnody. You big dummy.

Fold at night was eerily quiet. The wasteland wasn’t exactly the most cacophonous place in the universe, what with much of the life in Equestria killed off when the bombs fell, but even back in Junction City, there was always a little bit of activity.

But the mills were silent, and the guards more silent still. No voices or gaudy music echoed from the newly renamed Cafe of Timberjack Dreams. The lights were on, but the place was mute. I shook myself, flicked my ear, and realised, for once, it was just damned quiet.

The subdued crunching of gravel behind me startled me out of my thoughts. I turned, only to find Solidarity trotting around the corner.

“Evenin’,” he drawled, levitating a pack of Marelboro cigarettes out of his saddlebags. “Or is it mornin’?” He struck a match against the brick wall of the motel, giving me a moment to marvel at the manual dexterity of his magic.

“I’m… not really sure,” I admitted. “I think the clock read about 3am when I slipped out to walk.”

Solidarity grunted, then looked down at his pipbuck. “Ah. Yep. Three o’nine in the mornin’,” He took a long drag then politely blew it up and away from me. “I know what the hells I’m doing awake at this hour. Now, how ‘bout you?” He asked, seating himself on his haunches so he could lean his back against the wall.

I joined him. “I can’t sleep. Bubblegum and Glitter found some stuff in Peculiar’s computer that’s… kinda thrown me for a loop,” I murmured. “Now it’s got me thinking about what I’m going to do next.”

Solidarity said nothing, but took another long drag and blew it out. “Gonna fill me in or leave it at that?” He looked down at me as I quirked a brow at him. “Filly, I have two daughters. One of ‘em here with me, and one back home. Don’t take a father’s intuition to know you’re troubled something fierce.”

Well, that was the understatement of the century. “I… well, oddly enough it has to do with my– my... dad,” I said, as a chiding voice helpfully reminded me to not lie. “Apparently the Family knows who he is. Peculiar had my blood sample logged on his computer, and the female parent was an unknown unicorn. However, it said they had a match for a male pegasus parent. I figured that the pegasus sample they got from Fold couldn’t be Hyacinth because, well, you’re a unicorn. That leaves me as the only other pegasus in town, and I… don’t know how to feel about the Family knowing who my dad is.”

Solidarity sat in silence for a moment, before nodding. “Take it from the way you put things that you ain’t exactly sure who your daddy is.”

I shook my head. “No. My mom was whoring on the side to make ends meet for herself while she worked in Friendship City’s library. When she got knocked up, it… caused a bit of a scene for her. So she moved out to Junction R-7. Things kinda went downhill from there, but she never knew who my dad was,” I winced slightly. “She had a list of about twelve candidates, but she was always saying that she knew it wasn’t Radar.”

“Radar?”

I blushed. “O-oh, sorry. Right, Stable 9 hasn’t had much contact with the rest of the wasteland. Radar was an old Dashite pegasus who lived in Friendship City till it got shot up about nine years ago,” I facehooved. “Sorry, a Dashite was somepony that was cast out of the Enclave and-”

“I know what a Dashite is, darlin’. Got one livin’ in Stable 9. Poor thing was half dead when we found ‘er,” Solidarity drawled, but motioned his cigarette for me to continue.

“Oh. Well, I wasn’t sure so I thought I’d at least sort of, you know… give you some background,” I explained. “But anyway, he was well into his 60s by the time my mom got pregnant with me. And he was one of the few bucks she denied sleeping with. I always thought that I was just a weird mess of recessive traits which made me a pegasus. Like maybe it's just genetics of my mom and whatever buck she fucked,” I said venomously. Honestly, the possibility had crossed my mind before, but I couldn’t find enough books on how pony genetics worked to make heads or tails of it.

Solidarity ground out the half spent butt of the cigarette against the brick, and tucked it behind his ear. “Sounds like you ain’t exactly pleased with your mom,” He said, drawing out a small flask and taking a long pull from it.

I cocked my ear to the side, distracted by the sudden appearance of the flask. “Why are you out here, Mr. Solidarity?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

He gave me a very stern look. “Isn’t that my line?”

I felt my ears droop under his quiet admonition. “Well, yes. But I can’t sleep so now I’m talking to you.” I paused, and leaned my head back against the cool brick wall. “And to answer your question, no, I’m not pleased with my mom. She’s… kind of a horrible pony. And while I’m sure you’ve heard that a lot from teenaged fillies and colts, it’s not without a great degree of heaviness that I say that. In a lot of ways, I wish I could say that about her with a degree of adolescent levity. But… no. She’s… kind of a terrible, bitter mare who… who I’m pretty sure was taking advantage of me.” I admitted. “And now I'm friends with somepony who is probably the most dangerous mare in the wasteland, and she hates my mom. I’m pretty sure that if she met my mother, Blackjack would kill her. ...And I have half a mind to let her.”

As soon as the words left my lips, the tears began to fall. Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit! Slate had been right. Sandalwood had been right. Mom was just as bad as she was. She just had the benefit of being more subtle about it. It hurt to admit that. I mean, deep down, I’d known something was wrong with my pay. With the fact that she never wrote back. But it didn’t stop it from burning like one of Glitter’s fire spells all the way to my core.

Something bumped up against my muzzle, and I started. I prayed that the stallion wasn’t touching me, because I knew that in my fragile emotional state I would probably shatter all over him, and he didn’t deserve that. Instead, I was greeted by the sight of his flask.

“Wouldn’t normally offer it to kids,” The stallion said quietly as the flask hung in the cool grey glow of his magic. “But after that, might as well see if you can’t chase away a few of the pups following you around?”

“Pups?” I asked, taking a sniff at the flask. My nose and eyes burned as the strong, woody scent of brandy assaulted my nostrils. Not wanting to be impolite, I took a small sip, then gagged and coughed as the liquor burned all the way down.

Solidarity smirked at me, and took another small nip himself before leaning back again. “Something my late wife used to talk about. Clarinet Concerto was a brilliant musician, but she’d have moods. Didn’t bother me none. Being stable security meant I was up at odd hours anyway, but she didn’t really like it when insomnia kept her up,” He explained, levitating a bottle and funnel from his saddlebags.

“She got to talking with a few of the Cervyderians that live in the stable - deer, if you ain’t heard them called that before - and one of them told her about a concept their people have. Somethin’ called the Hour of the Wolf.” The unicorn took out a bottle and a tiny funnel, and set to refilling his flask with brandy, and I watched him pour the amber liquid into the metal flask with practiced grace. “Back in the old days, used to be something called a wolf. Big predator, nasty teeth, loved to eat deer. Before they gone and drove them off, wolves was something to be feared. As the deer banded together, the hour between 3 and 4 am became known as the Hour of the Wolf, because it was the time they came callin’.”

Solidarity recapped his bottle of brandy and put away the funnel. “What the shaman, Snow Berry, said to Clarinet was that she was struggling with living in the Hour of the Wolf. All she could see was the things that she didn’t like about her life, the things she was afraid of, and it gave her far more clarity into the darker portions of her being than Clare was happy dealing with. So Snow Berry proposed that she take a shot before bed, to chase away the Wolf. Then a few more sips in case the only thing bugging her was the Wolf’s pups.”

I wasn’t sure what a wolf was, or if it had pups, but whatever my troubles were, they definitely weren’t pups. “What if it’s not a Wolf keeping you up, if we follow this little metaphor?” I asked. “But a hellhound?”

Solidarity looked down at me before taking a long drink from the flask again. “Those should really be reserved for folks like Go Fish and I,” he said softly. “Cause there’s not enough liquor in the wasteland to take care of shit like that,” He said, passing the flask to me again.

I shook my head. “Well, if that’s the case, did that long drink and a few sips even work for miss Clarinet?” I asked.

Solidarity was quiet for a long time as he and I stared up into the clouded night sky. I could feel the stallion’s emotions churning under his weathered hide, but he simply stared passively up into the dark. If anything, I envied his ability to take a feeling, notice it, then gently pack it back away. It was a skill I desperately needed to learn.

“Not really,” He answered after several minutes of silence. He shook his head and got to his hooves. “You should probably try to get some rest, lest you start getting fluffy ears and leathery wings,” He teased, through words that were slightly slurred.

“I’ll head back in, Mister Solidarity,” I said quietly. “Have a good night. What’s left of it, that is.”

“Night Threnody. You’re a good kid. You get some rest, and hopefully that pup’ll leave you be.”

I sincerely hoped he was right, though I wasn’t likely to let myself get into the pattern of drinking to try to solve my problems with sleeplessness. I watched as Solidarity got up and shuffled toward the entrance of the motel, took one last look at the sky, and stepped as lightly as I could back up to my room.

Morning came with all the subtleties of a slammed door. I woke up gasping for breath, not from a nightmare, but from being smothered by my pillow. Somepony had placed a blanket over me, and I’d migrated to one of the pillows and buried my muzzle in it. Such that I couldn’t breathe.

I looked blearily around the room as my body tried to figure out how to cope with nearly suffocating itself. Thankfully, neither Blackjack nor Puddle were around to watch me wake up. I only slightly less grace and poise in the morning than a drunken brahmin with a head injury. I splayed my wings out and flopped onto my back, resting my left foreleg across my forehead.

What was I doing? I stared up at the ceiling, hoping the cracked plaster would impart some deep wisdom to me. Maybe the paint had flaked off in some meaningful fashion? Honestly, I’d take anything at this point.

Sandalwood and Slate were due in today. Blackjack was… coping. My friends were hurt, but had made it through the battle okay. I’d kissed a filly, but I wasn’t sure I liked it. I…

… I’d gotten over fourty ponies killed.

Tears ran down my cheeks as that thought percolated through my brain. How was I supposed to face Sandalwood and Slate when they found out that ponies died because I stepped in. Because I pushed us to go to Fold. Because I was scared of telling the truth about what happened to me back home, and then had run away as a result!

They’d hate me! I knew, deep down in my heart, that they would hate me! That they’d never accept what I’d done. How could they? Everything that I had done, every decision I’d made was to cover up and hide and tell more lies. The world I’d known had been nothing but lies. And I was born into that, and learned at an early age that it was the only way to survive.

Why tell my mom how the session went? No matter how I answered, I was wrong. Best to lie about it and say it went well. Why tell somepony I wasn’t acquainted with that my mom whored and frequently had several stallions over a night? Better to lie about it and say she was the town librarian, because she had several books, and it gave her the porcelain veneer of respectability.

Everything was lies. And I was being forced to tell the truth! For another five days!

I rolled over and buried my head under a pillow. It smelled like Blackjack. Which really didn’t help my mental state, because she was part of the problem. I’d been leaning on her a lot recently, and… I still wasn’t sure I should be doing that. She’d… given a little here and there, but… When was she going to snap? When was she going to run away again? And when she ran away again, would it because of her demons?

Or mine?

“Bad case of the Mondays?” A soft, tenor voice wormed its way into my pillow refuge.

Slate. Dammit. He would know. He had to know. Maybe if I stayed really, really still, he wouldn’t notice me! Pony sight was based on movement, right?

“Threnody…” He said softly. “I was going to wake you up and give you a hug, but I’m afraid if I try, I’ll get bucked in the face.” He said wryly, though a measure of seriousness rolled off of him in small ripples.

I sighed as I extricated myself from beneath the pillow and turned to face him. Slate’s ears dipped slightly as I looked at him. He frowned, concern seeping through his emotional shields as he lay down on the bed next to me. “Are you okay?”

I really wasn’t. He knew it. I knew it. Somehow him acknowledging that by asking me directly made it worse. I felt tears start falling down my cheeks again as he asked, and I surprised him by diving forward to wrap my forelegs around his neck. I pressed my face into his shoulder and sobbed. A part of me reeled against the contact, but I didn’t care. I needed somepony. Anypony. And Slate had always been.... Safe.

“Whoa, hey there!” He said, running the frog of his hoof down my mane. “It’s okay! It’s going to be okay. We’re here. You’re safe.” He said, though I could sense his inner turmoil as he searched for the right words to say. It probably didn’t help that my emotions were presently a Charybdian maelstrom of fear, hopelessness, regret, and sadness. But I was having a hard time finding words to express myself, so I just cried.

And Slate let me cry. He held me until the shoulder of the jacket he wore over light barding was soaked through with brackish snot. I finally managed to bring myself together enough to choke out a few words at him.

“You’re going to hate me…” I whimpered, pulling away from him slightly as my guilt over the events of the past two weeks stacked up and hit me all at once.

But he pulled me back toward him. I struggled against the forelegs that wrapped around my small barrel. “Threnody. Why would I hate you? What have you done that’s so awful that I should completely disregard all of that lengthy training Heartshine gave us to be even capable of hating you?” I looked away, which made him reach over to lightly put a hoof beneath my chin. “Hmm? What is it?”

I cursed my deal with Dealer. I couldn’t lie my way out of this one. So I started talking. And I kept talking for a long time. I talked about what had happened after Blackjack and I had left Star House. I talked about how I was doing my level best to avoid going home. Thankfully, Slate sat and listened, only occasionally stopping to ask me for clarification on a few things here and there. And unaccountably, all the while, his emotions never shifted away from anything but care and concern.

That confused me. I didn’t know why he was only feeling care and concern. He should be feeling hate! He should be feeling disgust at what I was. What I’d done! I should be getting my own feelings mirrored back at me! Why was he sitting there only showing care and concern. And not a faked, covering care and concern. Slate was genuine about it. And as much as it hurt to feel that, I kept talking. Secretly hoping that his emotions would eventually do the inevitable whip back to something that showed his true feelings for me.

But damningly, there was no judgement There was no hate. Just… care and concern. When I’d finally caught up to my present feelings of self-loathing, he finally stopped me.

“Threnody, do you think that maybe you’re taking responsibility for the actions of several other ponies?”

I paused in my rancorous tirade a moment. “Um… no? I don’t think so?” I said, skewing my ears to the side. “Why do you say that?”

Slate tilted his head to one side. “You seem to be blaming yourself for what happened here in Fold,”

“Well, of course! If I hadn’t said any–”

He held up a hoof. “If you hadn’t said anything, or spoken up or tried to help, would this have likely happened anyway?” He asked. “You said it yourself that Basalt Breaker and Blue Belle were working on a resistance of some sort here. So… really all you did was give them more ammunition with which to rally the townsponies.”

“But ponies died!” I protested.

Slate was silent for a long moment. “Yes, they did, and I want to honour your grief and empathy over that,” He said gently. “But you already told me that you weren’t involved with the fight.”

No. I wasn’t. “But I was part of the reason the fighting started! If I hadn’t–”

“If you hadn’t risked your life trying to expose just what the Family was doing, you think that fighting wouldn’t’ve happened?”

I frowned, and looked down at my forehooves. That… was true enough. “It really hurt being there. Feeling ponies dying around me. Do you know what that’s like?”

“I fought in the Battle of the Hoof, Threnody. I do very much know what that’s like,” Slate replied, his voice soft, but with a frisson of regret icing over portions of his gentleness. “I… would have liked it if life hadn’t forced you to go through something like that.” He added, his eyes sad as they met mine.

His words were a mental slap in the face. Wait. Why was he concerned about me? There were others who died in that fight! Blackjack had her face half blown off! Bubblegum and Glitter had been shot several times! Why all this worry for me?

Because you’re a pony worth loving. Blackjack’s voice echoed in my subconscious, despite my desire to keep her out of my more private places. Argh. This shit again. I’d gone along with her because I could feel something powerful from her when she said it. There was a great weight of feeling behind those words.

… But for the life of me I didn’t know what they meant!

Slate cocked his head to the side, and I realised I had a confused look on my muzzle. “I… was having a negative thought about myself,” I explained. “And then I was thinking about something Blackjack said yesterday, and despite how often I hear it… I honestly don’t know what it means.”

“Oh? And what was that?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow at me.

I looked down at my hooves again. Okay. No lying. Just the truth. I worked my tongue over in my mouth a moment as it attempted to turn itself into some sort of solid substance. “I was wondering why you were so concerned about me,” I said softly. “And the other day, Blackjack and I had been talking about why ponies might be concerned about me and my welfare, and… she said that I was a pony worth loving.”

Slate blinked at me. “Of course you are!” He exclaimed, skewing an ear to the side as confusion rippled away from him. “Why would you think that you weren’t?”

“Cause that was the first time anypony’s ever told me something like that,” I deadpanned. Saying it out loud was an emotional stab somewhere to the right of my sternum. Slate winced as well. “I’m sorry.”

Slate pulled me close again, and again, I felt those really strong, powerful feelings. It was strange. Care danced with sadness, and the pair blended into a bittersweet cocktail accentuated with drops of pride, a desire to protect, and a heady dose of happiness, patience, and compassion. I felt that from Blackjack. And from Glitter on occasion. It felt… nice. I just didn’t know what it meant.

He was quiet very a long moment before he responded. “You really don’t have anything to apologize for, Threnody. To be honest, I… don’t know what to say. Because a part of me hurts so badly for you because I know that you’re serious,” He said, and when he looked down at me, tears were running from the outer corners of his eyes. “Be honest with me, do you actually think that you aren’t loveable? Or worthy of someone’s love?”

I pulled myself away from his embrace. I needed a little space, and he let me have it. “I hear ponies say things like ‘I love him or her so much!’ Or ‘all of my love goes to my foals.’ It’s… something ponies say,” I said, pulling the pillow that smelled like Blackjack to my chest. “But I don’t know what it means. What does ‘I love you’ mean, Slate? How can it mean anything to somepony who never once heard it from her mom?”

There were those emotions again, and more than a little pain. I reached out a hoof to take the pain away, but Slate gently shook his head. “You feel a lot, Threnody. You have such great flames of compassion within you that almost hide the burn scars that you wear on your soul. It’s part of what I saw… what I felt from you when we first met.”

I gave him a confused look. “What do you mean ‘burn’?” I asked.

He bit his lip. “How do you describe emotions?”

“Um. With words?” I offered unhelpfully.

“Have you ever noticed that Willow Glen often talks about feelings like they are living plants? I think she said to me once that it hurt to feel Blackjack’s ‘happiness bloom only to quickly wither in sorrow.’ All of us heartmenders use metaphors to describe what we’re feeling. I’m sure you do, too, if you think about it. I always likened emotions, and the scars that we carry on our hearts to flames. We can smoulder with desire, burn with pain, flare with anger, blaze with passion. There’s a comfort to me in that fire,” He explained with a soft smile.

“That’s why I said the flames of your compassion nearly mask the burns you carry with you,” He said, poking a hoof gently on my back. “I’m not talking about the physical scars you carry on you from burnout.” Suddenly his poking of my back made more sense, and I felt a little self conscious of the scars that I carried there, even hidden as they were underneath my duster. “I’m talking about the things we feel and see in other ponies. You have so many, and they must hurt you terribly. But you use other things to try to cover them up,” A smirk crossed his muzzle. “Not all that unlike a certain mare who cannot die, despite how much she tries.”

I looked out of the dusty hotel window a moment as I thought over what he said. It was a lot to process. First, that other heartmenders used metaphors too! I’d… thought I was the only one who did that. Which I guess went to show how much I paid attention to the others. Though, in my defense, none of them had routinely talked cases with me.

Then there was the comment that I was like Blackjack. There’d been little subtlety in that comparison.

“Do you think that’s why I work so well with her?” I asked.

Slate nodded. “I think so. When I first met Blackjack, I knew she was burned horribly. And a part of her still burns, even to this day. I felt it when I met her. For those of us who have had to fight to stay alive, I’m… not sure that ever goes away. There’s always a little bit of spark that flares to life under the surface. But even my own scars that I see and feel every day don’t compare to what she’s been through. Which was why when you – this tiny little thing that stood up to her all those weeks ago at Star House and demanded to be let in – I could feel that you might do great things with her.”

My head sunk a little as his pride threatened to drown me. “I… I don’t know about that…”

Slate chuckled. “I don’t think it’s for you to know, Threnody. That was for me to know and understand about you. I felt that fire in you. I knew that you had that potential. I didn’t know your story, but your boldness and your stubborn determination meant that you two were going to get along like a pair of balefire phoenixes. That your burns might be enough for her to actually start healing.” He said with a seriousness that stilled any burbling self-deprecation I felt.

So I tossed the pillow aside and hugged him tightly. I didn’t know what I was feeling. Painful cold embarrassment at his praise. Pride that warmed at having made him happy. Care bubbling up through the icy cracks of fear of rejection. I didn’t know what it meant. I didn’t really have good words for it. But it was a nice feeling. A scary feeling. A terribly wonderful, contradictory feeling. A beautiful flurry of emotion made all the more precious by how fragile and potentially fleeting it was.

“I… don’t know how to describe what I’m feeling,” I admitted, choking slightly on the words. “I kind of hate it. I have so many words to express and interpret the feelings of others. But when I get to trying to express mine… I feel like my tongue either turns to marble… or the meaning is lost in a soliloquous outpouring of words when I can speak. It’s… I…”

Slate nuzzled his muzzle into the top of my head. “Shh… It’s okay.” He said. “It’s okay, Threnody. We’re still going to listen, no matter how long it takes for you to turn back to flesh and blood. And no matter how hard you try to drown me in soliloquy.” He said. I couldn’t help but smile at his borrowing of my metaphor.

“Thank you, Slate,” I said. “I don’t know if… if you’re going to change your mind on those feelings I can feel from you, but… I hope you don’t. I… I think I can learn to like them,” I admitted, with fear icing me over.

Slate’s hoof ran down the back of my head. “I won’t, Threnody. Like I said, I admired you from the moment I met you. I know that I might’ve done you a great injury by pointing out your scars. I know there’s this unspoken rule about heartmenders not doing that, considering how openly we wear our own hearts on our sleeves. But rules be damned. You’re a good kid, and the fact that your mom never said that… well… damn her for it. You were a bright spot in the Heartmender Wing, and my one regret was that we fought.”

I sighed, thinking back on our fight. Which was… stupid. So so stupid. “You were right you know… about my mom,” I said. Dammit. I wasn’t going to cry. It hurt to say it. It hurt that it was true. But I wasn’t going to cry.

“I know,” He said quietly, and my eyes burned as tears brimmed at the corners. “I looked into it as soon as you and Blackjack left. Your pay isn’t going to your mom anymore. Sandalwood advocated for that to stop happening after she talked to Heartshine about it,” He gave me a slight smirk. “Apparently the boss had a bit of a conversation with Cinnamon Twist about keeping her informed, and has been double checking a lot of Cinnamon’s activities. I doubt that your least favourite batpony is thrilled about that.”

Somehow I just couldn’t find it in myself to feel badly about that. I blinked away the few tears that had threatened to fall. “So… did you come to talk to me first so that I can prepare to get yelled at by Sandalwood?” I asked, shrinking down a little as my ears drooped.

Slate surprised me by snickering. “What?! No! Of course not! I mean… obviously we weren’t thrilled that you up and ran off with one of the most dangerous mares in the wasteland, but… you’ve actually gotten Blackjack moving. I mean, think about it, Threnody. When was the last time Blackjack drank?”

That gave me a bit of pause. “I… uh… before we left? I’ve not seen her drink anything but Sparkle~Cola since we’d left the Hoof,” I admitted. “Huh…”

Slate gracelessly rolled himself off of the bed. “Well then, I think that we should go talk to Sandalwood about the progress you’ve made with your client. Maybe that’ll put some fears to rest. Or at least cool the embers for a little while,” he offered.

I nodded, and got down off of the bed.

“Oh!” He said, startling me. “I nearly forgot!” His muzzle disappeared into the saddlebag on his back. He withdrew something small, orange, and soft.

My heart tried to worm its way out of my mouth as I held the Scootaloo plushie once again. “Thank you,” I managed, squeezing the toy softly. I’d nearly forgotten about her, and a geyser of guilt welled up inside of me. “I… I didn’t have–”

“I know,” He said, softly. “That’s why when we heard of what was going on up here from Heartshine, I made sure she came with,”

I gave him a confused look. How would Heartshine have…? I looked out the window, and spotted the tall SPP tower. Ah. That explained it. The Lightbringer must have told her. Somehow. Or maybe DJ Pon3 said something on the radio?

“I also brought your pipbucks,” He explained, opening the door to the motel room. “I wanted to offer them to the two of you, but also to let you know that if you don’t want them, you and Blackjack don’t have to take them. I even wiped the tag off of Blackjack’s, so she doesn’t feel like she’s constantly being followed. Because I have a feeling that you won’t be going back to the Hoof just yet,” He said with a gentle smile. “But we can talk about that with Sandalwood.”

I nodded, and followed after him.

We met Sandalwood and Blackjack in the Cafe of Timberjack Dreams. The pair of unicorns chatted idly, and as I trotted into the cafe, the earnest happiness I felt rippling from Blackjack startled me. Just yesterday she’d been saying we should run away up to Stable 9! What gave?

Then she turned and looked at Slate and I as we walked in, and I felt the trickle of relief leading from her to me. She hadn’t been suggesting we run away for her. It had been for me.

Oh. For a heartmender, I was terrible at this.

Sandalwood patted the bench seat next to her as Slate and I approached the table she and Blackjack shared. I scooted in next to my friend as Slate sat down next to the strawberry roan mare.

“I hope you don’t mind that I asked Caledonia and Dry to take Glitter, Bubblegum, and that darling little earth pony filly… what was her name?” Sandalwood asked.

“Puddle Splasher,” Blackjack said helpfully.

“Ah, yes, Puddle Splasher. I asked that they join Glitter’s sisters out toward the outskirts of town to help the alicorns set up a clinic,” Sandalwood explained. “I wanted to keep our conversation about what happened after you left the Hoof in the family for now,” She admitted. “Considering that… well, we’re not quite sure how Glitter Bomb found you, and you appear to have picked up this Bubblegum character from somewhere in the wasteland…”

Slate chuckled. “Where did you find him? He is oh so very pretty to look at,” he teased.

Blackjack’s eyes lit up. “Oh my gosh, I know, right? Almost makes you forget Sandalwood there for a bit!”

Sandalwood flushed a light dusky pink as Slate snorted. “Pay up,” He said simply, holding out a hoof. Sandalwood gave him an incredulous look. “Look, she’s likely to respect us more knowing that we bet on the fact that there’d be a timespan in which she’d bring the two of us up as an item.”

Blackjack snorted. “Excuse me! I am horribly insulted that you two would think that I would ever insinuate such things! And betting on clients! Isn’t that against some sort of heartmender regulations? Thren, back me up here!”

“I just won 50 caps, I’ll give you half.” Slate replied as Sandalwood levitated a small bag out of her saddlebags.

“... I suppose you can be forgiven for the low fee of 25 caps,” Blackjack replied, her expression blank, but mirth ran in rivulets around her hooves. It made me wonder how Blackjack felt to Slate, or to Sandalwood for that matter. “And maybe if you answer if you two are uh…” She looked down at me, then frowned. “Getting to know each other… better? Finding out more… intimate details?” She asked, spinning her hoof slightly.

“No, we’re not fucking,” Slate deadpanned, making Sandalwood blush harder.

Blackjack’s hooves covered my ears. “Slate! For shame! In front of the filly!” I flailed at the unexpected contact and she winked down at me. I smiled as I batted lightly at her hoof.

Sandalwood’s serious expression softened, and I felt wonder flowing into happiness from the normally frosty mare. And yet again, there was that splattering of pride and that desire to protect. What was with that? Argh. These feelings were weird when they were directed at me! I wanted desperately to be away from the table, and Sandalwood frowned.

“What’s wrong, Threnody?” She asked.

For the second time today, I cursed my deal with Dealer about lying. “Both you and Slate sometimes have this… feeling about you when you look at me. It’s like you want to protect me, and there’s this inexplicable sense of… pride,” The pair of them simultaneously tilted their heads to the side, which made me giggle. “I just… it was a pattern I noticed, so I thought I’d ask.”

“They care about you, Threnody,” Blackjack said softly from my right.

I stared at her a moment. Right. Ponies did that to me. For their own reasons which I found very confusing. But looking back across the table, both Sandalwood and Slate were nodding in agreement with her. I skewed my ears to the side.

“I–”

“We know, Threnody. It’s new. It’s weird. But we’d like to try to help you get used to that, right Blackjack?” It surprised me that the words came from Sandalwood, and not Slate.

Blackjack nodded in agreement with the pair of heartmenders, and I felt something inside me break a little bit. It was a weird feeling, realising that maybe, just maybe, one of the unintended side effects of living in a world made of nothing but lies, you would become very good at lying to yourself.

The talk at lunch went a lot better than I could have ever expected. Blackjack was… well, herself, but she felt relaxed. That was the first time I’d felt that from her in the presence of the other two heartmenders. Sandalwood explained that I wasn’t in trouble, but that the Heartmenders did hope that I would ask permission in the future before I borrowed one of their more difficult clients for an ‘excursion in the wasteland.’

I nearly snorted Sparkle~Cola out of my nose when she referred to our misadventures as an ‘excursion.’ Blackjack actually did. But we were able to talk about what had happened, and the debriefing honestly helped me put my thoughts in order. Blackjack seemed to slip naturally into report giving, and it reminded me, in that moment, that she once had been a security mare. Sure, intellectually I knew that, but this was just another one of those moments where the Blackjack from before I met her was showing through. And what I saw wasn’t the terrible monster she made herself out to be.

Then, under the watchful eye of the responsible adults, we ate. I finished the huge bowl of Big Mac and Cheese I’d ordered at the prompting of all three older ponies. Which made me feel uncomfortably full. I was sweating and wanted to throw up, but Blackjack followed me into the fillies’ room at the Cafe, which prevented me from actually following through on my plans of making myself sick.

So I dealt with it. I just wasn’t happy about it.

“Ugh, I ate too much,” I whined as the four of us left the cafe to go meet up with the alicorns and Bubblegum. Sandalwood had consulted her pipbuck, and we followed the winding, broken roads of Fold toward Tree Hugger’s Fine Herb. I wasn’t sure why Caledonia and Dry Clean Only had decided to use an herb shop to set up their clinic, but apparently it was far enough out of the main town that it didn’t bother the townsponies to have a trio of alicorns in close proximity.

“That barely qualified as an appetiser. If you would eat more regularly,” Blackjack chided, “You wouldn’t feel sick after eating a normal amount of food.”

I glared at her. My eating habits had come up at lunch, and I was less than pleased with the fact that Sandalwood had dug up an old diagnosis from the Ministry of Peace Manual of Psychological Disorders. Anorexia Nervosa, she’d called it. Or rather she’d said that she was fairly certain I had it. I’d been forced to answer her honestly about my eating habits, my worries that ponies perceived me as overweight, and a number of other uncomfortable things during the conversation. All the while, Blackjack had been quiet, but I could feel the weight of her concern sitting near my shoulder, ready to crest over me like a wave.

“I… I don’t have a problem!” I protested as we trotted on, my stomach feeling like it was about to burst inside of me. “I just am not as hungry as everypony else!”

Blackjack gave me a look. “Look, I’m not a smart pony. I could occasionally follow what the heartmenders were talking about, and when I put that together with the little bit of medical knowledge I picked up from Glory, what I can conclude is that you. Have. A. Problem.” She said, poking me to emphasise the last three words. “And as much as I don’t like to gang up on you, I am glad Sandalwood said something. I may know a thing or two about fighting monsters that live inside of you. I don’t mind helping.”

A part of me wanted to bite back against her, but I also knew that would get me exactly nowhere. Plus, I didn’t really want to bicker with Blackjack in front of Sandalwood and Slate. Let alone argue with my friend. A part of me wanted to utterly reject everything that Sandalwood was saying, but another part of me wanted to listen to those around me. It was scary, but… maybe, just maybe it was my perceptions that were off? I’d been reading things really wrongly lately. Maybe the problem really was with me.

So, instead of looking like an idiot, I stayed silent on the rest of the walk up to Tree Hugger’s. Sandalwood pushed the door in, and inside we found Dry Clean Only sweeping the shop while a very contented looking Bubblegum got help from Caledonia and Glitter with brushing out his mane. I covered my muzzle with a hoof to hide my smile as the pair of alicorns ran brushes through the stallion’s bubblegum-pink mane.

“I see that Dr. Caledonia wasted no time getting to know you, Bubblegum,” Sandalwood said with a soft smile. “How is the patient, Doctor?”

Caledonia Night didn’t speak, but made a soft clicking sound with her tongue before turning to Glitter Bomb.

“Callie says that Bubblegum’s mane was messy, and it needed to be brushed. And that she was really excited to get it all straight!” Glitter translated.

Blackjack looked back and forth between the two alicorns. “Alright… I’ll bite. Why didn’t she say that, Glitter?” She asked, trotting over to the green mare. Callie offered Blackjack a broad smile, then stuck out her tongue. Blackjack stuck her tongue out back, before looking at me and sucking it back in. “That… didn’t answer my question…”

Dry Clean Only set down a broom she’d been holding in her magic. “Not everypony who was connected to the Goddess broke away from Unity intact, Blackjack,” She said, her eyes narrowing as she trotted over and placed a wing protectively over Callie’s back.

Glitter Bomb nodded. “Her voice ran away and now she can only talk through thinking!” My purple friend giggled brightly. “Though um… she says I’m supposed to talk to her, not use telepatholology because I think too loud.”

Blackjack turned to the rest of us mere mortals and nodded sagely. “If Glitter Bomb’s words through Unity were put to text, they’d probably be in all capital letters.”

Callie chuckled brightly, then lightly tapped the back of Bubblegum’s head.

“She says she’s done, Bubblegum,” Glitter said.

“But it felt so nice…” He whined, before opening his eyes. He locked eyes with me a moment, and a slight blush crossed his cheeks. “It’s hard to care for a mane this luxurious in the wasteland!”

“You could just get it trimmed,” Slate deadpanned, looking up at the well tamed, if longish style that made up his mane. As I looked him over, I could see navy blue starting to peek through at the roots of his mane, splashing a bit of colour to the black that he’d dyed it.

Bubblegum shrugged. “Eh, I like it long. I think it looks better on me. Though thank you, Miss Callie. It was really, really nice to have somepony help me with it.”

Callie inclined her head, then turned back to Sandalwood. She made a soft click, then tilted her head to the side.

Sandalwood nodded, and I realised that Callie must have used her telepathy on the strawberry roan heartmender. “Our talk went well. Blackjack is behaving, and Threnody is unhurt. I assume the other three are coping as well?” She asked, her eyes flitting to Bubblegum and Glitter Bomb.

“Yep!” Puddle Splasher replied happily as she trotted out from a closet. The little mare’s seafoam green mane was liberally sprinkled with dust bunnies and bits of cobweb. “I mean… well… I’m okay at least. I won’t speak for Glitter and Bubbles.”

Bubblegum frowned, then looked Slate up and down. “You a heartmender too?” He asked, eyeing the stallion. Suspicion rippled off of him, and he almost felt like he was sizing Slate up. I couldn’t for the life of me fathom why.

Slate nodded. “Yes…” he replied, but a bit of hesitancy crept into his voice. “May I ask why?”

Relief flowed out from Bubblegum. “Can… I borrow you for like… thirty minutes? I have been drowning in estrogen and I need dude talk. And a dude to talk to. Please?” He looked at Sandalwood. “Is it okay if I take your boyfriend from you for a bit?”

“He’s not my boyfriend…” Sandalwood muttered, scuffing her hoof on the floor.

“Huh, could have fooled me. Well, loverboy, let’s go chat!” Bubblegum said, trotting out the door. Slate gave Sandalwood an apologetic look before trotting after the big stallion.

Blackjack nudged Sandalwood’s shoulder. “So… is there any reason why he’s not your boyfriend?” She asked, all smarmy grins and cat-ate-the-canary smiles.

Sandalwood fixed Blackjack with a glare. “Yes. There are several. All of them professional!” She said with a sniff.

Dry Clean Only coughed slightly to catch everypony’s attention. “Um, speaking of purely professional endeavours, I do believe that this location will be ideal for setting up a clinic,” She trotted over to a closet door. “In fact, miss Puddle was kind enough to show us that this is not in fact a closet, but a staircase,” She said, igniting her horn with light blue magic as she opened the door. “I do believe that the proprietors of this… herb establishment grew their own product at one time. From the notes that they left behind, it looks like they built this establishment over a hot spring. Apparently the humidity from the spring made for a more… potent crop.”

“A hotspring?” I asked. “Like… a natural one?”

Dry Clean nodded. “It appears so. I am really excited about this. I had always wanted to have a spa. I feel like the ponies of the wasteland need some place to relax, and as Littlepip has often said, trade will save the wasteland. Perhaps a find like this could be a way for the Followers to bring some additional – and much needed – economy to Fold.”

The other girls all nodded in agreement, then Blackjack spoke up. “So when do we have a hot spring day?” She raised a forehoof as we all looked at her. “I’m just saying that it sounds relaxing is all!”

Glitter’s eyes widened. “Oh! That would be so much fun! And then Bubblegum would be all wet and bubbly and pretty and…” My friend trailed off as she remembered she was sitting in a room full of girls who, for the most part, also thought that Bubblegum was pretty. Hackles rose on the back of her neck like a particularly irate cat as she glared at us. “Maybe that isn’t such a good idea,” She said, her eyes narrowed.

Blackjack sighed. “Fine. We’ll make it fillies only for today,” she said as she tapped her chin with her hoof, “Maybe it is better that way.”

Sandalwood and I exchanged glances. “Are you sure you aren’t asking because you want to see a bunch of pretty mares and an awkward filly without their barding on?” I asked, quirking an ear to the side.

“I’m not the awkward filly, right?” Puddle whispered to Glitter, who shook her head.

“Well, that is an added benefit. But I had to share a bed with two cute fillies last night,” Blackjack replied, looking at me when she said ‘cute’. “And unfortunately, one of them – whose name starts with a P and shall remain nameless – kind of hogs the bed. So my back hurts, and a hot spring sounds like a nice way to relax.”

Sandalwood looked around at the gathered mares and fillies. “Well… I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Maybe we should try to help Dry and Callie clean up the place? What do you say, girls? Do some cleaning, see if the hot springs are safe to use, and meet up later to relax? I’m sure that the boys can find something to occupy their time with.”

“I’ve been doing that already, but I don’t mind helping more! Helping is what friends do for each other!” Puddle said, bouncing on her hooves.

Caledonia made a few clicks and smiled, and Dry nodded along with her. “Well, we would appreciate the help. And with more hooves, I suppose the work would go faster.” Glitter nodded in agreement with her sisters.

“I love this idea,” Sandalwood said, clapping her forehooves together excitedly. “It also gives me time to catch up with all of you! And get to know Puddle a little better!” She stopped as she looked at Blackjack and I. “Are you two in?”

“Hey, pretty mares–”

Sandalwood frowned at Blackjack. “Yes yes, we get the idea,” She said, rolling her eyes before settling her gaze upon me. “How about you, Threnody?”

I blinked at her. “Me? Why are you asking me?”

“Because it’s your choice on whether or not you want to help. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I wouldn’t mind spending some time with you on a project. We weren’t able to do that when you were at Star House.” She explained.

I stared at her for a moment as my brain tried to parse what was happening. Oh. Right. I actually got a choice in things. Blackjack leaned over and nudged me. “If you don’t want to help, you don’t have to, Thren.”

But I did want to help. It just felt weird being asked instead of being told. “No, I want to help. Sorry, you just… threw me off because you asked. I was just gonna help because I figured I was gonna get volunteered to.”

Sandalwood’s ears drooped. “Oh, no, sweetie. Not at all! I just wanted to make sure that you wanted to help out. I know you and your friends have been through a lot recently, and if you wanted to spend the afternoon resting, I wanted to give you that option. As opposed to getting dirty like the rest of us.”

Blackjack put a hoof over my shoulder. “But you still can say no, if you wanted to.”

I shook my head. “No, I do want to help. I’m sorry for making things weird, Sandalwood.”

Sandalwood rewarded me with a gentle smile. “No, it’s quite alright, Threnody. I am glad you’re willing to help!” She turned to the other girls. “Now… let’s check out what we’ve got to work with, Dry.”

The hidden staircase Puddle had found led down into a small cavern that had been hollowed out of the basalt bedrock. The walls were dotted with beautiful natural crystal formations. Purple, white, orange, blue, and pink clusters of amethyst and quartz dotted the ceiling, and reflected the bright sunlamps that the ponies had installed in the ceiling. Colour spilled throughout the cavern, making the potentially gloomy cave of dark rock seem almost inviting. Sandalwood and I spent several minutes looking at all of the gem formations, and she pointed out some of the rarer crystals, such as carnelian and ametrine. I’d never heard of ametrine, and it was nice to be able to put a name to the enchanting purple and orange crystal spurs.

On the opposite side of the cavern from the stairs lay the hotspring in all of it’s steamy glory. I wasn’t sure how the pre-war ponies stumbled upon this spring. Maybe they'd found it when they tried to dig a basement for the shop above, but the cavern itself appeared to be a natural formation. Which made me wonder how it was made, though, admittedly, I hadn’t found many books on things like geology.

The seven of us set to work trying to tidy up the cavern itself. There was a lot of rusty, broken down tables and planters that needed to be taken apart. Glitter and Blackjack used their hooves and magic to knock over the damaged tables, and seemed to be making a game out of it. Puddle assisted Dry and Caledonia with hauling the broken pieces out of the cavern, while Sandalwood and I took brooms and swept the floor. A white, chalky substance covered the basalt floor in a thin layer, and it had a weird filmy quality that made it a little uncomfortable to walk on. Luckily, it swept up off of the floor with little effort on our part.

“Threnody, may I ask you something?” Sandalwood asked absently as we swept our growing pile of soapy dust into the corner.

I bristled slightly. Oh dear. “Um… yes?” I said, dreading the fact that, no matter what, I had to be honest.

Sandalwood must have felt my apprehension, as she stopped and gave me a frustrated look. “It’s not anything bad, Threnody. I just wanted to know what you thought of Blackjack.”

“Oh,” I said sheepishly. “Er… what did you want to know?” I felt Blackjack’s attention shift toward us, but as a glanced over at her, she was doing an admirable job making it look like she was paying attention to Glitter and not us.

“Well… I want to make sure that your relationship with her is still working for you.”

Working for me? What? “Um… yes?” I replied hesitantly. “I think it is. Blackjack is a really neat pony. I like her. And I know she likes me. So I think us being together is a good thing!”

Sandalwood winced slightly, but nodded. “Alright. You haven’t had an intimate relationship with her, have you?” She asked, and I almost stumbled at her bluntness.

“No. Nothing like that at all. In fact we had a conversation yesterday about her trying to not make so many innuendos at me because it makes me uncomfortable. And she agreed to it.”

If Sandalwood’s eyebrows could go any higher, I was fairly certain they were going to migrate off of her face and fly away. “She… agreed to it?”

I felt Blackjack’s wince from across the room. “Yeah. I… was honest. I told her that… I didn’t know that I wanted it. I told her why it made me uncomfortable. And she said she’d try to remember that. She’s been really good about it so far.” I chuckled at Sandalwood’s expression and the veritable surge of pride that rushed off of Blackjack. “She even decided to not tell me last night why she had to stay with us fillies instead of with Basalt Breaker. I figured the reason was lewd, based on the way she and Puddle were snickering about it. But she decided to honour what I said. And I really, really appreciate that.”

Strangely, that seemed to concern Sandalwood more. “So what do you think she feels about you?”

I hesitated at that question. I didn’t like that kind of question. I wasn’t ever sure how to answer that. I could relay what she said. But how she felt? I hadn’t been paying a lot of attention to that recently. Or rather I was more focussed on emotions that I thought could be bad for her or those around us more than I was about specific feelings for me.

“I think she likes me,” I replied after a moment.

Another eyebrow quirk from Sandalwood. “You think? You don’t feel?”

I looked back and forth between her and Blackjack. In retrospect, I’m not sure why I did that, but Blackjack met my eyes and trotted over.

Sandalwood shrunk nearly imperceptibly as Blackjack stood next to me. The pale mare did her best to look confused. “Did I miss something?”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Blackjack, eavesdropping works better when the ponies you’re listening to can’t feel your emotional responses to what’s being said.” I teased.

She stuck her tongue out at me, then turned to Sandalwood. “Did you have something to ask me?” she asked Sandalwood evenly, her red eyes focused on the unicorn in an unsettling neutral look. Not quite shooty, but shooty was somewhere right around the corner.

Sandalwood swallowed briefly, then stood up a little straighter. “I was trying to ask Threnody what she felt your feelings for her were. She seemed to be struggling to come up with an answer when you wandered over.” She replied, trying to match Blackjack’s neutrality with a cool evenness.

Oh boy. I may not have been able to get a sense for Blackjack’s feelings for me for oh so many reasons, but I wasn’t sure I liked the tone I was hearing in Sandalwood’s voice. Stubbornite upon Stubbornite reactions tended to end poorly for those involved.

“I dunno,” she remarked as she slipped over and sat down across from Sandalwood. “While I think about it, why don’t you tell us what you think Slate thinks about you?” The feelings coming off Blackjack were like layers of hard, encrusted anger and annoyance starting to test her restraint.

Sandalwood’s expression wavered a moment as we both sensed Blackjack’s anger. I for one wasn’t sure why she was angry with Sandalwood. Though I could tell that Blackjack had, as usual, struck a chord in Sandalwood as a dizzying river of emotions slipped between the cracks in her mask. “Blackjack, you really, really seem focussed on the nature of the relationship between Slate and I. Does that bother you that much to know that we aren’t intimately involved?”

I lay my ears back. Sandalwood, you dummy.

“We as in what you and I did or we as in what you and Slate are doing?” Blackjack countered back with an arch of her brow. “When you talk about ‘intimates’ you kinda need to be more specific with me.”

“Slate told you earlier that we have not been physically involved, Blackjack. He had no reason to lie to you, though I suppose you could ask Threnody if you feel you have a reason to doubt him!” Sandalwood, please leave me out of this. “As far as what… we did. That’s… not really appropriate discussion in front of Threnody. Or anypony, thank you very much.” She snapped, anger heating her normally cool exterior.

“Um… well… Look, I… maybe I should have just paid more–” I started, before Blackjack interrupted me.

“It’s not you, Thren,” Blackjack replied, her red eyes locked on Sandalwood. “I don’t like you asking her what she thinks I feel about her. How the hell do you expect someone to answer that! That’s like asking someone you love why you love them. She’s dealing with her own crap and you throw that wrench at her? You should know better, Sandal! You have no excuse!” she hissed, her eyes narrowed as those strata of emotions which had remained so still for so long suddenly fractured like geological plates slipping. Before she could smash us with her angstquake, however, she took in a deep breath, and the quivering subsided. “Now, if you want to know how I feel about Threnody, Sandalwood, then. Ask. Me.”

Sandalwood stepped back a pace at the raw emotions that rippled away from Blackjack like water before a glacier collapsing into the sea. “I–” she said, quaking with fear in the face of Blackjack’s angst and self-hatred. “Blackjack, I’m not sure you’re being fair. I’m asking her because I wanted to gauge whether or not she realises just how important she is to you.” She sat down on her rump as she tried to stare Blackjack down, but very clearly wasn’t winning that battle.

Blackjack didn’t answer. I could feel the fracturing restraint radiating off her in waves, like some machine in danger of breaking out of all control. “And what, Sandal, do you think she will do once she realizes how important she is to me?”

“Probably continue to be confused by it, Blackjack,” I said before Sandalwood could pull herself together enough to speak. “I get that you care, but… to me that doesn’t…” I frowned, trying to put my words together in a way that made sense. “It means that you care, and my ability to process that that ends there.”

Now it was me that Sandalwood was looking at with no small measure of fear. “Threnody… I really don’t think you’ve thought this through, dear.”

“And she shouldn’t have to. So don’t make her,” Blackjack said in that deceptively soft voice that was accompanied by the shootiest look I’d ever seen her give another pony.

Sandalwood looked between the pair of us, then chose to say nothing.

I turned to Blackjack. “I know that I’m important to you. But… I don’t want to try to think about what that means beyond simply what it is. Anything else gives me a bit of a headache. Are you okay with how you feel about me?”

And just like that, the tension broke as Blackjack gave me a smirk. “Sure, Thren. Gives me one too.” Then she gave a shrug. “It’d help if I knew precisely how I felt with you. I love you. I know that. I don’t know what kind of love it is though. Is it like… Glory? Where I want to share my life with you? Is it like P-21, where we understand each other and I want to help with your pain? Is it Rampage, where I want to save you? Scotch, where I want to protect you? I don’t know why I feel what I feel. For all I know, you could be some kind of love I’ve never felt before, and so it could mean almost anything.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “But I do love you, Thren. And above all, I don’t want to hurt you like I’ve hurt… like I’ve hurt everyone else I’ve loved. I want to do better. I have to believe that I can be better to the people I love.”

I gaped at her. What did she mean she loved me? What was that even supposed to mean? I had just gone over this with Slate– oh right, she wasn’t there for that conversation. Why did I just assume that she would have been there for that!? Argh, she was infecting my brain!

I felt myself being pulled under by the various warring emotions that ripped through me. I didn’t understand. I was scared to try to understand. I wanted to know why she chose me of all ponies to try to do better for.

But I couldn’t stop myself from asking: “Why?” Sandalwood’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Why do ponies keep asking me that?” Blackjack replied with a grumbled sigh. Because all your friends have been emotional cripples like me, Blackjack? Then she closed her eyes for a brief second, and then looked at me with a small smile. “You need me. Not a lot. Not for everything. But you need me and I need to be needed by somepony. I have to have that. Otherwise, on my own, I’m just a drunken wretch waiting to die. You give me purpose, like us being here right now. If you said you wanted to go to Appleloosa right now, I’d go. If you said you wanted to go to the zebralands, I’d go. I wouldn’t even think twice. And when you don’t need me anymore… when you have everything you do need… I guess I’ll have to move on. And I hate that idea, but you asked… and I can’t lie to you, Thren.”

Had she told me this when I’d first met her, I would have said that Blackjack was a dangerously obsessive mare. And while she may be that, it struck me just how open and honest she was being with me. I put my hoof to my chest as it dawned on me just how vulnerable she was being right now, and it scared me that I was going to say the wrong thing. Her words hurt, placing a strong pressure right to the left of my sternum, but I didn’t want to say anything wrong. My hurt was enough right now. I’d shatter to pieces if I had hers.

“I do need you, Blackjack. As much as it scares me to admit that. But… it’d scare me to admit that to anyone. So much so that I couldn’t even thank Slate this morning for being so understanding. I’ve had a hard time expressing to Glitter Bomb just how much she means to me in words. It’s… scary admitting that I can’t do this on my own, as much as I’d like to think I could. But even if I could, I don’t feel I should, and that means I need you. All of the ponies around me. Even Sandalwood,” I said with a small smirk, before letting my ears droop. “Maybe especially Sandalwood.”

“Sweetheart, it’s… you won’t hurt my feelings if you say that you aren’t fond of me,” She said gently, though I could tell that she was lying through her teeth.

“As much as you frustrate me, Sandalwood, I do like you,” I admitted. “Cause you try to actually help steer me in the right direction. More than my mom ever did.”

“I don’t, because I think she’s unfair to others and herself,” Blackjack said as she shifted next to me, leaning over to lightly press the side of her head to mine as she looked at Sandal. “But her heart’s in the right place, so I can respect that.”

Sandalwood’s emotions sloshed between something around ‘d’aww’ and moderate annoyance in quick succession, but she settled them as she shook her head at Blackjack. “I think you needn’t worry about me, Blackjack,” She said brushing a bit of her curly mane from her eyes. “But it is nice to know that you don’t hate me, Threnody. As angry as you feel when you talk to me, I was beginning to fear that was the case.”

“Nah, that’s reserved for Cinnamon,” I quipped.

“Threnody!”

“What?! She’s a bitch!” I snapped, following it up with a pout. “Sure, you tell me that I have some weird eating issue and you’re scared that I’m becoming friends with Blackjack, but… you aren’t like Cinnamon. And you definitely aren’t like my mom. If anything, it was really, really mean of me to compare the two of you. Like Blackjack said, at least your heart is in the right place.” I glanced at Blackjack a moment before giving Sandalwood a mischievous grin. “Though you really should let Slate take you out on a date.”

Sandalwood made a series of exasperated mare noises before locking eyes with Blackjack. “That bit of her is your fault, you know!” She said, trying desperately to look stern, though the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth suggested anything but sternness.

“Sandal, you deserve to feel good too. You’re addicted to work and responsibility. If you want to, I’ll go with you some place, right now, and help you feel good again. Because it’s good to feel good when it doesn’t hurt somepony else.”

“That is not what I want at all, Blackjack!” Sandalwood squeaked, a blush making her already ruddy cheeks a darker shade of red. Blackjack just kept that steady smile, her eyes now giving a reverse-shooty look. “You needn’t worry yourself about me. I will manage my own relationships on my own, thank you very much. And if anything, you needn’t concern yourself at all on that front!” She said with a huff. “Heartshine has pretty much sent us up here to Fold together, so even if I did care about him, and I’m not saying I do, it’s not like I’d have any choice but to spend an extended amount of time in close proximity to him!”

She was lying again, but Blackjack and I knew it. She and I exchanged glances again and broke down into giggles. “You know Sandalwood, maybe you should try going a week without lying,” I teased.

Then Blackjack moved towards her, Sandalwood’s face turning increasingly alarmed as Blackjack put her hooves on her shoulders and pressed her mouth to Sandalwood’s ear. I didn’t hear what she said, but the emotions coming off Sandalwood were like the rumblings of a dam breaking under the weight of a flood’s swell. Blackjack kissed her cheek, and then backed away. “Just think about it. Okay?”

“I…” she faltered, trying to shore up those walls that Blackjack had breached with the rubble of her self confidence and ego. “I’ll… try.” I’d never heard her speak in such a small voice before. I didn’t know Sandal had that voice.

Blackjack turned back to me. “So, I dunno about you, but emotional demolition makes me sore! Want to try out these hotspring thingies?” she asked me, nodding away from Sandalwood as the mare looked a bit lost.

I nodded. “Let’s tell the alicorns. Oh, and we should probably put up a sign on the door that says ‘don’t come in we’re naked’ so the stallions don’t wander down here.’ That would be kind of awkward,” I said trotting over to the springs themselves.

“Awkward?!” Blackjack laughed. “Threnody, you know most ponies don’t wear clothes. Besides, that’d be the perfect invitation to me!” I wanted to join in, but a part of me couldn’t help but wonder what Blackjack had said to Sandalwood, who now watched us with an inscrutable expression, like somepony who was suffocating, before she turned and walked back up the stairs.

“Um… I’ll join you in just a moment, Blackjack. Why don’t you let the alicorns and Puddle know it’s time for a break, and… I’ll be back down with Sandalwood.” I said before trotting toward the stairs. I chuckled as heard Glitter shout “Cowabunga!” behind me, followed by a great splash.

I found Sandalwood staring out of the window that overlooked Fold when I made it upstairs. She quickly turned away from me when I approached, though I could see a few telltale spots in the dust on the floor. She’d been crying.

“Sandalwood? I know you’re not okay, but… do you want to talk?” I asked

“No! I don’t! I mean…” she said, furiously shoving emotional rubble into the holes in her heart. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Just… go take care of Blackjack. Make sure she doesn’t do anything… Blackjacky…” she said, her teeth clenching as that emotional bulwark strained.

Yeah, right. That and two caps will buy you an applecore. I reached out a hoof, then put it back down on the floor before deciding to trot over to sit next to her. “She’s got Glitter and Puddle with her. They’ll keep her in line. Probably. Plus you know that Dry Clean Only and Callie are attached at the hip,” I said. “So, we’re back to you and you being decidedly not fine.”

“I don’t–” she started to say, and I nailed her with the best shooty look I could. Sure, I couldn’t actually shoot her with magic, but I would smack a mare silly if she kept this up. If I tried hard enough it might even hurt! “Don’t look at me like that! I–” She wanted me to argue. I kept up the stare. Finally, the rubble broke and she trembled as the dam burst. “I’m so fucking alone,” she whispered, hanging her head as if she just admitted to cold blooded murder. Somehow, the expletive from the proper mare’s mouth made it positively ring with honesty.

I didn’t know what to say, so I spread out my wing and lightly lay it on her back. I was aiming for her withers, but she was too tall. Even sitting on her rump. “Why do you say that, Sandalwood?” I asked, putting as much gentleness into my voice as possible.

“Please, don’t do that!” she gasped, sniffling and rubbing her shame-filled tears. “Don’t… don’t talk to me like Heartshine or Velvet. Don’t talk like a heartmender. I’m so tired of talking to heartmenders.” She slumped. “Goddesses, what an idiot I am. I always thought you were a kid. That I had everything together. All my issues sorted out. Everypony else had the problem. Not me. Then that… that… that fucking Blackjack!” she snapped, glaring at the stairs from which issued the sounds of laughter and splashing. Her wrath passed quickly as she slumped. “She comes along and shows me I’m just as messed up as everyone else.”

“I mean… not to put too fine a point on it, but that’s kind of her thing. She wouldn’t’ve talked to you if you weren’t emotionally damaged in one way or another,” I quipped, dropping the gentleness for my much more natural sarcasm. “But… I don’t know that there’s anypony that’s been born out here that actually has things together, Sandalwood. I mean, you don’t need to be a heartmender to know that.”

“But I wasn’t born out here,” Sandalwood said, giving a wan smile. “I was born in Tenpony. I might as well have been born in a stable. I probably would have been better off. At least stable ponies don’t have to pretend like a world of misery doesn’t exist just outside the walls of their home.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “You don’t know what it was like… living in a place where any day, people you knew – friends, even – could be evicted for missing the rent. Never knowing if next month, you were going to be cast out to die in that world you couldn’t bear to admit existed. It was suffocating. Day after day it wore away at you, the fear, the tension, the grinding, looming dread.” She sniffed and rolled her eyes. “I know. I know. ‘Tenpony problems.’ Boo hoo hoo. Tell it to the raiders.’”

I shook my head. “No, that sounds really scary. I don’t know what it’s like, being that scared of the world because I was little when we moved out to Junction City. But until I took this trip? The most I’d seen of the wasteland was when I had a bit of precious free time to fly without supervision. So… I can see why Tenpony problems are still very much problems. Especially when really bad things are happening around Manehattan just outside of your door.” I shrugged. “That would be enough to scare me.” I admitted.

She rubbed her eyes with a hoof. “It’s not just that. Your whole life… you get an attitude. Don’t get close to anypony, because any day they could be gone. And be ready for the day it happens to you. Ponies who get evicted… most commit suicide. And when they do… there wasn’t a ceremony or funeral. They were just tossed outside. I didn’t get close to anypony. Not even my parents, because if something happened I didn’t want to be hurt. Because it hurt so much.” She curled up tighter under my wing. “So when I finally DO get out here, I make sure I keep all my walls up. Make sure nothing gets to me. Make sure I’m the mare in control. That I’m the one who knows better. That I’m the one who’s right!” She spat out the word like an epithet. “Goddesses,” she murmured, “I am such a cunt.”

“No. Cinnamon is a cunt. You are just grumpy,” I replied, frowning at her. “You heard Blackjack. Yeah, sometimes you make really bad decisions, or you’re a bit… aloof. But you’ve never been a cunt,” I said before wiggling my tongue in my mouth.

“Bad decisions…” she murmured with a wry smile that appeared alien on her face. “Did you know I slept with Blackjack?” she asked. I knew she had, but I didn’t trust that letting her know I knew that was helpful, so I simply tilted my head to the side to let her continue. “I did. I did. I swore I’d die before I ever told anyone, but I did. Somehow she saw right through me. My walls. My… everything. Made me feel things I never knew I felt. And it made me happy. It did. And it terrified me too, because I was sleeping with the most dangerous mare I ever met. Eventually, I just couldn’t do it. I let Slate take care of it, because I think he knew how much I was struggling, and he offered. So I just... let him. I fucking let him take on the role of lead heartmender. Even though I knew he didn’t like it. Even though I could feel how much pain he was in using his ‘skills’ he’d picked up from Flank to get Blackjack to at least a manageable level of insanity. All because I was too scared to let myself be close to anypony. Because I trusted walls more than opening up my heart.”

“But… keeping those walls up would make you really lonely. And… let’s be real. Being a heartmender can already be kinda lonely. Even around other heartmenders. I’m terrified of the day that I have to try to explain to somepony how I feel things. It gives me a migraine to think about, and I’m really glad that Blackjack hasn’t asked me!” I paused, thinking a moment. “Though that was probably because she asked somepony else already.”

That drew a small smile out of Sandalwood. “Yeah. She asked Cinnamon.”

“As if Cinnamon needed more reasons to dislike her!” I said, lightly bumping Sandalwood with my shoulder. “That said… Being alone isn’t really good for us. Not that you have to be with Slate to fix that.”

She looked down at her hooves. “I… don’t think you know quite how very much I would like that.”

“No, I don’t. Though the fact of the matter is the two of you display more cordiality and body language that shows just how much you are attracted to each other that it’s almost sickeningly sweet. But for some reason, neither of you is willing to bend on that point!” I grumbled, huffing slightly. “The unresolved sexual tension in Star House was almost stifling, and it wasn’t just because Blackjack wanted to have sex with everything that moved.”

“Threnody, you… know that would be complicated…”

“Are you saying that because you mean it? Or are you saying that because it’d require you to let those walls down? Because I can tell you that, based on his non-verbal cues, Slate is very much into you. You know he has a nickname for you, right? It’s curlytail.” I swished my tail slightly in frustration. “So… if you’re so alone, and so sad at being alone… maybe it’s time to try making a little change?”

Sandalwood stared at me for a long moment, a blush just barely colouring her cheeks. Her right ear flicked before she finally spoke. “You’re sure he likes me?” She asked, using that small voice again. The little pegasus inside of my head started bashing her skull against the ground in frustration, but on the outside I simply nodded. “I mean… I… I don’t know that he should. Threnody, what if it doesn’t work out? What if you only think you know that he likes me, but as soon as I say something, he’s going to hate me for what I’ve let him do on my behalf? I mean, isn’t him just caring about me enough? So what if it’s not an actual relationship. I get to see him most days! At least I know he cares!”

“Well if that isn’t the most fucked up pile of brahmin shit I’ve heard recently,” I deadpanned. “At least you know he cares? Sandalwood, what the hell? You’re asking me if you think I think he likes you,” I paused, trying to parse that out in my head a moment before continuing. “Then you turn around and say you don’t want a relationship? Because it sounds like you want something more than the relationship you have!”

There was that damaged-dam-rumbling feeling from Sandalwood again. “I… already know that I’m in his heart. Threnody, I’m terrified of what happens if we’re both wrong and he just… he thinks of me as a friend. I don’t… know that I could handle being forcibly evicted from his heart.”

Oh. There we were. The actual problem that Sandalwood was having. She was afraid of being rejected. “Sandalwood, I’m… pretty sure that the heart doesn’t have quite the same problem that Tenpony had when it comes to who gets to stay and who doesn’t. That’s his decision to make, but for you to accept that, I think you kind of have to trust him on this. Or at the very least, trust your friends.” I explained gently. “I am being one hundred percent honest when I tell you that your affections for one another are painfully obvious. You’ve basically spent several nights in his heart already, Sandalwood. You might as well start asking for your own space in the closet. If we’re going with the awkward moving-in metaphor that you used.”

Sandalwood let out a strained chuckle. “All right, all right. But that doesn’t mean that it won’t be complicated. I just… I don’t even know what to do! Do I ask him on a date? How do normal ponies do this?” She asked. I wasn’t sure why she was asking me, because clearly I was the stunning image of perfect relationships myself! But I set that thought aside for now as she continued. “And what does… I worry about what happens if I move higher up in the Heartmenders. What if I have to supervise him?”

“Sandalwood, Heartshine’s a ghoul. She’s like, already over two hundred years old. Unless something weird happens, she’s more likely to die after I do. I don’t think that the Heartmenders really have a lot of um… upward trajectory as far as things go. Though I could be wrong. I was always the littlest one in the group.”

Sandalwood issued the strangest noise, something like a hiccup being strangled. Then she made it again. And then she started to laugh. Not the little tittering or polite chuckle she normally issued. It was a full, pure, expression of mirth eroding the cracks that Blackjack had blasted in her walls. “I suppose you’re right. Goddesses, I’m an idiot.” She rose and faced me, and for the first time I saw something other than pity or concern on her face. It was just as alien as that smile and laugh. “Thank you, Threnody,” she stated, and it struck me like a blow.

Respect. Honest to goodness respect.

“S-sure,” I stammered, rubbing the back of my head.

“I should go talk to Slate. Maybe buy some wine. Something. They have wine out here, right?” She still wore that strange smile, but it strangely seemed to fit her now, like a comfy old coat that just needed the creases smoothed out of it. “Go enjoy your hot springs, Threnody. I’m fine.” And now, I knew, she was being honest.

I nodded. “I’ll meet up with you and Slate tomorrow?”

Sandalwood nodded, then trotted out the shop’s door.

I made my way back down the stairs, still trying to process what had just happened between Sandalwood and I when I nearly ran into Puddle.

“Oh! There you are! We were wondering if you were coming!” She said, her normally poofy mane steaming.

I scrunched up my muzzle as she turned around and sprinted away from me back towards the hot springs. Most ponies didn’t wear clothes. Most ponies didn’t wear clothes. I chanted to myself as I made my way toward the spring. I wasn’t sure what I was hung up about, really. But somehow not wearing clothes bothered me. Sure, none of the alicorns wore clothing, Blackjack preferred not wearing her armoured barding, and Puddle frequently only wore light stable barding that left little to the imagination, but… I had some hangup about not wearing clothes. So seeing the quintet of wet-maned mares naked as the day they were born was a little… intimidating.

Callie relaxed against Dry Clean’s chest as Glitter juggled water balls with her magic, and were soon joined by Puddle living up to her name and making a big splash. Blackjack, however, was apart from the others. She lay on her chest, on a wet rock, her blank flank hindquarters submerged as she watched the other four. But when Puddle reappeared, those red eyes seemed to spear right through me. The smallest, inscrutable smile played at her muzzle, her gaze full of possibilities… only it was up to me to choose. And whatever I chose, she would be the best at it she possibly could. Sister? Guardian? Mentor?

...Lover?

Oh wow, I had no idea my heart could beat that fast! It was probably because I was in an enclosed space! Totally unrelated to the waves of panic that came on with that thought!

“Sandalwood okay?” she asked, barely audible over the splashes echoing in the basement.

I nodded, biting the metaphorical bullet, pulling my duster off and immediately slipping into the water up to my neck. Okay, I could do this. Having most of my body under the water, clear as it was, somehow made me feel a little less… exposed. Somepony would have to look really closely to see those scars on my back, and the water gave me some comfort by distorting my figure as I slowly glided through it. I made my way through the soothingly warm water and settled down next to her. “I… think she will be. Though she made mention of going to talk to Slate and get some wine. That is if Bubblegum is done with him.” I said, leaning back against the rock she lay on to rest my wings. Some blessed pony had polished them smooth, into almost perfect leaning rocks. “But I think she’s going to be okay.”

“How about you?” she murmured into my ear, her breath warm and tickling.

I thought about that a moment before answering. “I’m okay. Today has been weird, but a good kind of weird. I didn’t think that it was going to be that way after staying up until 4am last night because I couldn’t sleep. But… it’s been a good day. So I think I’m okay.”

“Good,” she said with a nuzzle. “If you need me to make it even better, just let me know.” Oh, thank goodness I could blame this blush on the heat! Blackjack, meanwhile, stretched out on her stone and folded her forelegs under her head, watching me with one eye. I could take her offer. I could leave her offer. And she left all the choice up to me. Something that almost nopony had ever given me until I walked through the door at Star House.

I wasn’t sure that I was ready to take her offer. Well, not all of it anyway. I leaned forward and spread out my wings, which had gotten uncomfortably tight at the nuzzle. “Blackjack, one thing that is kinda bugging me still is something Glitter and Bubblegum found yesterday. I don’t know that they talked to you about it or not, but… for some reason, the Family has information on my dad,” I said, stretching out my left wing until the joint gave a satisfying pop.

“Well,” she answered after a moment, closing her eyes with a happy smile. “When we catch up with the Family, we can ask them. Nicely.” She paused and glanced at me. “Bullets count as nice, right?” she teased, not worried at all.

“I… would prefer to do more talking and less shooting. Unless Peculiar is there. I really don’t want him in my head a third time. Even once was too much,” I admitted, before lightly booping Blackjack’s snout with a wing.

Then she caught the end of my wing in her mouth and gave the tip a tiny nibble before releasing it. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Hubbuzwha?” I responded, trying desperately to focus on anything but the fire that radiated down my wing to the very core of my very being. I hadn’t had anypony touch my wings like that before, and… it wasn’t a bad experience. Just new, and warm, and I prayed that the hotspring covered up my blush.

“I’ll keep that in mind too,” she replied, her horn glowing and doing…. Something… to my wings. Like tiny little hooves massaging the muscles, and giving tiny telekinetic tugs to all of my pinions and flight feathers. It was an incredibly blissful experience, made better by the fact that she wasn’t physically touching me. Nothing could suppress my moan.

Was it quiet in here? I gasped and looked at Glitter, Dry, Callie, and Puddle Splasher all looking at us, the earth pony’s eyes wide in amusement as she covered her muzzle in her hooves. Glitter stared, then made a soft ‘ooooh’ and the other pair cuddled as if there was nothing better in the world. “That is SO adorable!” Puddle gushed.

For the second time in so many days, I contemplated whether or not a pony could spontaneously combust. Instead, I awkwardly splashed my way out of the water, grabbed my duster, and ran out of the cursed store and its horrible hot spring of debauchery. And as I trotted down the street, dripping wet, I heard a dry chuckle in my ear.

Pot… meet Kettle...

Author's Notes:

Oh lordy this... took a lot longer than I wanted to get out. But hopefully the fact that 15 was the longest chapter I've ever written helps a little bit. This has been a wonderfully painful chapter to write, and it really, really made me look at the various relationships I have in my life. Which... probably didn't help how long it took me to get it written! As always, super kudos to Bronode and Somber for helping me with the editing process!