We set out to leave Fold two days later. Sandalwood threw a fit about it, and it had taken the combined efforts of Basalt, Blue Bell, Blackjack, Slate, Solidarity, and a call to Heartshine on the broadcaster, but they eventually talked her down enough that she grumpily relented and let us go. I trotted up to the waiting group of ponies, a smile on my muzzle for the first time in the past few weeks.

Glitter Bomb waved at me as I approached. “Are you ready for a trip?” she asked, bouncing lightly.

“She’d better be,” Bubblegum quipped as I nodded, “considering she was the one who wrangled us into this.”

I smirked at the stallion. “If I remember correctly, somepony, who shall remain nameless, spent most of the meeting with his ear pressed to the door. The very meeting where it was decided that the four of us would be the ambassadors of both the Followers and Fold to Stable 9. And that very somepony might have nearly crushed me with his massive body when he, Glitter, Puddle, and Hyacinth fell in when I suddenly opened said door.”

Crushed by his massive, firm, toned body. My goddesses.

He had the audacity to blush. “Well… I’m just saying…”

Glitter poked the stallion’s side. “You also ended up getting paid in aardvarks for this, right?”

I couldn’t help my head tilting in confusion as I mouthed ‘aardvark’ to Bubblegum, who nodded. “Yeah… I guess now that we’ve got a pair of alicorns out here, the courier alicorns are able to make the jump to Fold. Thimblestep ended up bringing a few caps to pay for my help in advance of the journey to Stable 9.”

I frowned, but I also reminded myself that our friend was a consummate mercenary. Plus, he wasn’t the only pony to get paid. I’d missed a few stipend days, and with all of it now going to me, I had about a thousand more caps than I knew what to do with. Which, of course, meant that my saddlebags were now loaded up with travel essentials like preserved carrots, apples, and snack cakes. Oh! And a few Sparkle~Cola Cherry bottles that I snuck in under Sandalwood’s watchful nose.

...I did make sure to pack a few rad-aways with my medical supplies that now also weighed down my saddlebags. The fact that they hid the contraband soda had everything to do with my consummate organization and packing skills. And talents of hiding things from adults. At the very least, packing some of the cancer-tasting healing fluid that Sandalwood swore actually prevented the cancer inducing effects of radiation would at least help to avoid any unpleasant side effects from the imbibing of the oh-so-tasty ambrosia that was Cherry Sparkle~Cola. Seriously, if Sparkle~Cola was still in business, I would have tried out to be the poster filly for their cherry line.

“Threnody!” Slate called from behind me. I turned, and watched as he and a sulking Sandalwood trotted up the trail that led to Route 97, the road that would lead us north-northwest toward Stable 9. “Hey! I got something for ya!”

I turned as they joined the group of ponies gathering at the top of the hill. All at once, I felt Blackjack’s dark presence at my side. She didn’t say anything, but I could feel the anger she held within her, bubbling beneath the surface of her emotions. Slate ignored it entirely, but Sandalwood hung a little closer to Slate in light of it.

Slate stuck his muzzle into his saddlebags and pulled out, of all things, a wide brimmed hat.

“Solidarity said that you’d be travelling through the high desert,” he explained, sitting down in front of me. He shifted the hat in his forehooves. “Didn’t want you to give yourself heat stroke, so I uh…” In a moment of uncharacteristic vulnerability, he thrust the hat into my hooves. “I hope you like it.”

I smiled down at the stetson-styled hat, and struck a pose as I put it on my head.

“How do I look?” I asked Blackjack.

She tilted her head. “Huh,” came Blackjack’s response as she looked me over. “That’s what I was doing wrong! I had the barding. I had the guns. What I was missing was an awesome hat!”

The comment didn’t match her feelings, however, which churned and boiled deep inside her. I couldn’t quite sort out the turbulent mess of emotional flotsam that bubbled to the surface. Self consciousness overwhelmed me as I suddenly found something fascinating to peer at near my hooves.

Slate smiled. “I think it looks good on you,” he replied with a grin. “Makes you appear older than you are,”

I glanced up at him with an expression that blended confusion with reproach.

“That’s a good thing,” he deadpanned.

Sandalwood even managed a small smile. She let out a short sigh before speaking,

“It does suit you, Threnody. I just…” her eyes flashed to Blackjack, who stared back. “I want you to be safe. And please use your broadcaster to send us a wave. Heartshine says the SPP towers are in the area, and the Followers have all been linked in to their frequency,” she explained rapidly.

I nodded. “I can call you to check in. I just… won’t promise that I’ll do it every night.”

Sandalwood grit her teeth, eyes darting to Blackjack, but then nodded. “I… understand that.”

Slate hooked a foreleg across Sandalwood’s withers. Calm and affection gushed off of his leg and down Sandalwood’s side, like a hidden spring from a crack between desert boulders. I hadn’t seen either of them express their feelings so openly before. Sandalwood gave Slate a slightly surprised look as well. I still wasn’t sure whether or not she was blushing under her coat.

“We know you’ll be busy travelling, and probably will be too busy to call your folks at home,” Slate said, amusement splashing through his voice.

I returned his easy smile. “Thanks for being understanding, Slate. But I really will try to remember to check in at least every other night or so. That way you don’t worry too much, Sandalwood.”

The strawberry roan mare nodded. She still couldn’t suppress her frustration from surging and bubbling under the surface. The violent tide of emotions still reached my senses, and I looked away from her. It didn’t do much to quell the guilt welling up in me; I knew I was the cause, at least in part. I shook my head and looked over at Blackjack. “Shall we go gather the party?”

Blackjack turned and looked over at the small group where Bubblegum, Glitter, Puddle, Hyacinth, and Solidarity were waiting with Basalt Breaker.

“Gather the party? Can I be the Dark Knight?” she asked with a grin. “We’re going to need hay chips and Sparkle~Cola. Lots of Sparkle~Cola.”

“The what?” I asked, wracking my brain as Blackjack made an obscure reference that I had never encountered before.

Slate coughed. “Is…. is that an Ogres and Oubliettes reference?”

I was fairly certain I hadn’t read that book. “Oh. Who’s the author? Should I read it?”

“You’ve never played O&O?” Blackjack asked as she pointed her hoof at herself. “I’m the angsty dark knight Lady Nightrose Bloodtide.” Then she jabbed a hoof at the others. “That’s Prince Goldenbubble, Sparklewizard Lightsprite, the beautiful sorceress Amaranthine, the Savage Gem Barbarian Roaring Gorge, and...” She paused with her hoof on Solidarity. “Priest? Eh... someone’s got to play priest. You’re it.”

Hyacinth screwed up her face. “Should I be offended she made me the Barbarian?”

Glitter Bomb’s eyes, however, glowed like starfields.

“Spaaaaarkle wizaaaard!” she cried in glee.

“Uhhh....” was all I could say.

“And you, of course, are our sneaky rogue, the misunderstood and angsty Nightraven.” She patted my head. “You have her edgy duster and hat already.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Sandalwood asked bluntly, before turning to Slate. “This is your fault, you know. Lending her that silly game.”

Blackjack swept me up in her embrace, pointing a hoof dramatically ahead of her. “Onwards! To slay the Ochre Dragon of Stable 9!”

Humming some vaguely medieval tune, she started to march.

Everyone stared at her back as I pointed in the opposite direction. “Um... It’s that way, Blackjack.”

Without missing a beat, she whirled on her hoof and marched to the north.

“Dun dun da dunnn da da duuuuun!” she sang to herself dramatically, then quipped at our stares. “What, it’s not like Dark Knights get Navigation as a class skill.”

Solidarity looked at me, and then to Blackjack.

“This… is going to be a long trip…”

As we walked north along Route 97, I was becoming increasingly grateful for my hat. It was so… damned… hot! The temperature was soaring along the baked road, and even though the clock on my pipbuck told me it was barely eleven am, it felt like I was inside of an oven. Glitter had produced a lovely pre-war designed hat for herself from the depths of her tail, and everypony else in our party had deployed some kind of head covering.

“Kind of makes you wish for a–” Bubblegum’s mouth was snapped closed by Glitter’s purple magic, while Blackjack shot daggers at him from where she walked beside me.

“If you finish that sentence with balefire winter, so help me…” Oddly, she didn’t seem all that hot and bothered by the temperature. She wasn’t even sweating. Bitch.

Bubblegum gave us both a cheeky grin, but kept on trotting. The heat didn’t seem to be bothering him either, and in my half-baked state, that irritated me.

“I didn’t think that it’d get this warm this far north!” I whined aloud. “I thought the desert was more near New Pegas and New Appleloosa.”

Solidarity turned back to me, a bottle of water floating in his magic. “This area’s part of the high desert of Cascadia,” he explained, pointing toward the majestic Mount Hoof and Three Sirens mountains. “On the other side of them hills it’s green as can be. But back here… dry as old bones.”

I waited for just a moment, thinking I would hear Dealer’s dry chuckle, but he apparently wasn’t in the mood to bother me today.

“Why is that?” Glitter asked, trotting along.

“We’re in the mountain’s rain shadow,” Hyacinth piped up for the first time in what seemed like an hour.

She struggled in the oppressively dry heat, staggering on occasion in the pale doctor’s coat she’d opted to wear for the trek. Her wings drooped off of her back as we made our way down the dusty highway.

“All of the rain falls on the west side of the mountains, so to the east, there’s a natural desert” she explained, fanning herself with a wing. “That effect stops eventually, but… if I have my geography right, it doesn’t really start doing that until about halfway to Hoofington.”

“Yeah. Then you’d have rain, but it comes with a fifty percent chance of misery and death,” Blackjack added before pausing to scan the wasteland with her half-closed red eyes. “So, what sorts of things eat faces around here?”

“Faces?” Puddle asked, tilting her head to the side. “Uh… nothing?”

Hyacinth’s face fell, but it was Solidarity who answered for his daughter.

“Round here? Raiders. Maybe a pack of coyotes if they’re hungry enough and you’re alone. Real issues don’t start till you get toward the Red Forest. Though, in regards to Raiders, even they’re relatively rare.” He swung a hoof about. “We should keep an eye out, but this section of Equestria was sparsely populated pre-war. Post-war… there’s barely anything living out here at all.”

Bubblegum prodded at some patches of scrub grass growing on the side of the road. At least I think it was growing. “Yeah, this stuff’s dry as a bone and tastes like you’re eating a snack cake box. Not the cakes. The cardboard box.”

“What’s wrong with eating cardboard? One hundred percent of your daily fiber,” Blackjack opined.

“I mean, I don’t know if you’ve tried it, Blackjack,” Bubbles said, using her real name which got a queer look from the trio of Stable 9 ponies. “But when I ate it, it gave me the most horrible farts for a week. Though it was worse when I tried one of those ‘high fibre’ bars that the NCR was offering. I am pretty sure I qualified as a biohazard for a while,” he said with a grin.

Glitter shuddered, and so did I in memory of her past experiences with Cram.

“Your stomachs are weak,” Blackjack sniffed, and then frowned as she peered at the road up ahead. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing her shotgun

A strange crater had been gouged on the side of the road, perhaps twice Glitter’s height in depth and maybe fifty feet across. The concrete road jutted out over it in a crumbly ledge, as if it’d recently been exposed. Loose sand and rocks hissed down to the center of the conical depression.

Solidarity held up a hoof for us to pause, and we all did.

“Alright, you got me on that one, Fish,” he said as he studied the crater and its surroundings. “That weren’t there the last time we came through.”

“Are those guns down there?” Bubblegum asked as he pointed down at the center of the pit. Sure enough, someone had heaped up a pile of... well... stuff. Guns. Ammo. There were even some bottlecaps and bits. Just... lying in a pile at the bottom of the pit.

“Oh! We can get some supplies!” Puddle said, trying to trot forward before Solidarity caught her in his magic.

“Trap?” he asked in his accented monotone as he shot Blackjack a significant look.

“Bait,” she said as she scanned the scrub brush and grass around us. “Just... dunno for what.”

She walked right up to the very edge of the crater. Little clumps tumbled down into the pit towards the pile of loot at the bottom.

I trotted forward to get a look for myself. As I peered over the ledge, I came to full view of the pit. Almost conical in shape, it looked steep enough to be an ordeal for somepony to get out, unless they were a flyer or an earth pony. Getting out would be a real chore for a unicorn, or a pegasus with a bum wing.

“What is that?” I asked, not daring to get any closer to the pit. I wasn’t interested in getting stung by another radscorpion anytime soon. I saw something glistening at the bottom, next to the pile of scrap. I tried to pick out if it was a puddle of water or–

That was when a whole section of the pit gave way. Instantly, Blackjack, Puddle, Bubblegum, and I went tumbling down a slope as the pit exploded with sand and debris.

“I can’t see!” Glitter Bomb yelled in alarm as we were sprayed with fine grains of sand.

Something crawled under me. Something like... legs. Lots of legs! I screamed as I thrashed about to get up and away from the creepy, crawly, grabby legs, flapping my wings frantically to gain some altitude. I almost made it to the rim of the pit before something struck me from below, catapulting me against the soft sand of the wall. I tumbled back down into the pit, trying to get my bearings through the haze and dust.

The pit was sprouting legs. Giant, hairy, hooked things that ended in barbs. They wrapped several times around Bubble and Puddle’s barrels.

Bubblegum struggled to get his grenades into play where they wouldn’t blow us up. Puddle fumbled with her beam gun. Slashing her way through with her magic sword, Blackjack teleported out of the thing’s grasp with a pop and a flash. To my horror, for every leg she’d severed, two more seemed to sprout. Hack and slash was still her only option against the wriggling hordes.

I focussed on the pile of loot as it quivered and rose on the end of long tendril... a glob of sticky weapons and scraps that lifted off the bottom of the pit to reveal a mouth at my hooves. . A mouth that was more teeth than flesh.. Hundreds... thousands... of long, pale, hollow tubes... shifting in concert like an industrial meat-grinder. And it was trying to pull me into it!

I screamed and flailed away from the voracious maw. Taking to the air once again, a sticky mass of tin cans caught me on the side of my head, stunning me senseless as I hit the side of the wall and skidded back down toward the gaping mouth

Several gunshots went off in quick succession from above as Solidarity slid down the side of the pit. I caught a glimpse of several red flashes of light as Hyacinth fired off her beam rifle at the its centre. Distracted, I noticed too late the hooked, hairy leg that grabbed me around my belly, briefly flashing me back to my encounter with the radscorpion, and tossed me toward a toothy death.

“No!” Blackjack screamed as I tumbled, my wings fighting for air.

Her horn flashed, snagging a wooden sign from the side of the road and laying it flat over the beast’s mouth. I crumpled into the wood plank separating me from the terrifying scratches of thousands of teeth eager to drain my fluids. A sick part of my brain realised that I had landed upon the broad, awkward smile of a moose, which didn’t exactly help my calm. “Visit beautiful Ticklemoose! Home of tickling moose and squeaky cheese!”

Distracted by the efforts to save my sorry, useless ass, Blackjack missed the incoming ball of a few hundred pounds of loot attached to a long, muscular tongue. The end of that tongue smashed into her like a wrecking ball. It knocked her off her hooves and glued her coat and mane to the blob. As Blackjack flailed about, the monster began to reel her toward me and the maw.

The sign cracked and splintered under my hooves as the teeth gouged at it. I finally got my act together enough to draw my plasma defender and fired off several glowing green balls of energy at the tongue stuck to Blackjack’s hindquarters. The disintegration spells melted some of the junk, but not enough to break through to the horrible slimy flesh beneath.

“Why is it always tentacles?” Blackjack roared as she started slashing at the quivering mass of muscle. “And why are they always slimy?!”

“Threnody!” Bubblegum roared, catching my attention. I turned to watch him spin about in the creature’s grasp to give a solid buck to the legs that held him. The exoskeleton shattered, spraying him with green goo as he tossed a shiny apple at me.

I caught the grenade with a wing, holstered my defender, and threw the explosive down into the creature’s bustling gullet. I took to the air as the last bits of the sign splintered to smithereens.

A hollow wuff sound resounded from inside of the critter. A volcano of green and yellow bits of creature violently erupted out of the pit after me as I clawed for altitude. As a strange quiet fell over us, the only sound I could hear was that of settling earth cascading down the pit, and the soft, wet slaps of semi-roasted monster flesh slamming back into the ground at high speed.

Breathing heavily, I hovered next to Hyacinth, who looked down at the pit with a look of panicked worry on her face.

“Dad?” she called out. I couldn’t see Blackjack either.

From the edge of the pit exploded a dusty lump. Solidarity emerged, trying to wiggle out of the twitching leg that still held him. Then two white legs emerged from the dust. Blackjack pulled him close, a massive blob of sticky junk glued to her ass.

“Add that to your ‘things that eat faces’ list please,” she called out before looking around. “Everypony okay?”

Glitter looked desperately down into the pit. “I’m alive! Bubblegum?” Almost as an afterthought she called out, “Puddle?”

“I’m not dead yet!” Bubblegum barked, struggling out of the soft grit.

He reached behind him and tossed a stunned-looking Puddle Splasher up onto the tarmac.

“I think I have something stuck to my butt,” Puddle said, looking distressed as she stood and started turning around, trying to see the toaster that stuck to her rump.

“Took one to the rear during the fight as well, eh?” Blackjack asked, nudging the stunned filly with a forehoof. “Don’t worry, enough lube and it gets better.”

I landed next to Blackjack, and paused just long enough to glare reproachfully at her before looking her over.

“Are you okay? Did I hit you?” I asked. It was hard to tell if she’d been struck by those shots I’d fired with the mass of junk stuck to her butt. “Oh, hey! Cherry Sparkle~Cola!” I said, tugging on the familiar red bottle I found there.

“No! It’s-” Blackjack started to say as I felt the sticky secretion adhere to my hooves... and to her rump. She finished dejectedly, “...like wonderglue.”

I gave a few futile tugs with my hooves but I was stuck fast to Blackjack’s butt. Suddenly, this trip was going to take a whole lot longer than I’d expected. I gave her a sheepish grin.

“If it helps, I think I found some special shells for your shotgun!” I said, trying to make light of the situation. “Those ones with the red bands on them!”

“I guess it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever gotten on my ass,” Blackjack replied, levitating one of the slimier chunks of half-cooked monster meat and took a bite. “Mmm… three out of ten. Bit too gamey for my tastes.”

She couldn’t quite see the expression of shock and utter horror on my muzzle. “What the sorrell hells is actually wrong with you!?”

Puddle yelped as Solidarity used his magic to remove the toaster from her rear, taking some of her seafoam green coat with it. “Ow…”

Solidarity rolled his eyes, then spun the earth pony around in his magic, looking her over. “That was bad,” he muttered.

“Seemed like a Tuesday for me!” Blackjack quipped, spinning around to look at the unicorn, sending me slewing about behind her.

Hyacinth shuddered. “I just want to be home. In the Stable. Where the thing I have to worry about on Tuesday is whether or not they made tofu tacos.”

Puddle nodded as Solidarity set her down, then stumbled over to give Hyacinth a hug. Waves of fear rolled off the pair of stable ponies, and I could tell from my rather ignominious position that the pegasus was shaking.

Solidarity put a foreleg around his daughter.

“I thought you hated tofu tacos,” he said quietly, burying his muzzle in her mane.

“I do. But that’s safer to worry about than things that eat faces!”

“I kind of like them,” Puddle replied. “Th-the tacos. Not the things that eat faces…”

Bubblegum shook his head before digging for a healing potion. Long, bright red scratches ran down over his barrel from where he’d struggled. “Well… that was unpleasant. I vote no more checking out holes.”

“Are you sure about that, Bubbles?” Blackjack crooned while I rapidly shook my head at Glitter Bomb. “I’ve got a few that-”

A can of cram somehow magically found it’s way into Blackjack’s mouth before she could finish her quip.

“I’ll second not checking out any more holes!” Hyacinth said, tapping away at her pipbuck. “But… I am definitely adding it to Fish’s list of things that eat faces.” She frowned. “I really wish it wasn’t as long as it is…”

“What the fuck even was that?” Blackjack asked after spitting out the can wedged between her jaws, then looked at Solidarity, who frowned thoughtfully down at the smouldering corpse.

“I have no idea," Bubblegum said. “It looks like a mutated insect of some kind... but I haven’t seen anything like it before. Is it something new, or just something that few people get away from?”

He placed his massive forehooves onto my forelegs and tugged hard, very hard – holy Luna, was this boy strong – but they were stuck fast to Blackjack’s rump.

“Well, at least it proves that the Wasteland is always coming up with new and creative ways to kill you,” Blackjack summarized as we finished getting out of the pit. Whatever value the salvage might have, we’d have to find a way to get the adhesive slime off first.

“I don’t suppose we have any more turpentine?” I asked, then glared at Blackjack. “But no more Sparkle~Cola baths. I don’t want to smell like carrots for the next week!”

Bubblegum trotted over to Glitter and sighed. “One moment, let’s see what Glitter’s been carrying around,” he said, starting to shake the purple mare’s tail.

This was going to be a very, very long trip.

The high desert wasn’t just blazing hot. It also dropped to ridiculously cold only an hour after sunset. Soon we were huddled together. The treasure trove of general goods hidden in Glitter’s tail had saved me the ignominy of walking all the way to Stable 9 with my hooves glued to Blackjack’s shapely butt. I hoped I didn’t have to rely on Glitter's ‘tail of holding’, as Blackjack put it, to bail me out of any further embarrassing messes.

Blackjack’s red eyes were locked on the moon as it rose in the east. The glowing orb painted everything in ebony and ivory as it illuminated the night. She stood a little way from the others clustered near the fire. Like before, the temperature didn’t seem to bother her. I cinched my duster tighter as I trotted over to where she was standing.

“Everything okay, Blackjack?” I asked, realising I was likely asking a loaded question as soon as it left my lips.

“Fine and dandy. Dandy and fine. Okey, dokie, lokie,” she said mirthlessly, her smile a mask before she sighed and shook her head. “I remember when today would have been a blast. Good old times. But now I’m all old and wizened. Jaded. Not even a pit monster really gets to me.”

I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. Maybe she didn’t know herself. I frowned at her as I remembered the expression on her face when she’d saved me from the monster’s jaws with that sign. I shook the thought out of my head.

“Are… you sure about that, Blackjack?” I asked, standing a little closer to her to try to find some warmth. “I felt fear from you in the battle today when it looked like I was gonna um…” I shuddered, unable to finish my own sentence.

“Yeah. Kinda lost it there for a second. My focus, I mean,” she said with a sigh before immediately adding with a half smile, “Not cool. If I’d kept my head, I would have taken that thing out. Not your fault though, Thren. I mean, monsters gonna monster, you know?”

“Blackjack, that’s… not what I mean at all. You’re standing here telling me that you didn’t feel anything. Then, the next second you’re berating yourself for your lack of focus. We were all there fighting the monster. You don’t have to carry the world on your back. Solidarity and Bubblegum were right there with us, while Glitter and Hyacinth tried to help overhead. So… what’s really bugging you?” I asked, tossing metaphorical pebbles into Blackjack’s emotional pond.

She closed her eyes for a long moment. “Gimme an assessment, Thren. Compared to how I was when we met... am I better now? Or am I just getting better at hiding it?”

“Didn’t Sandalwood–” I started to ask in alarm.

“Yeah, yeah, but I annoy her. To her, I’ll always be a psychotic filly in a mare’s body,” she said with a toss of her mane and a smile that sent a chill down my spine. “What about you? Do you think I’m getting better, or just... shuffling my problems around on the plate?”

I frowned. “Um… do you want the whole assessment I have running in my head of you, in full Applejack honesty?”

“Yes. Wait!”

She added, and then leaned in and kissed me lightly on the cheek.

“Now tell me,” she said with a smirk.

Goddess damn it, Blackjack! I garbled internally as my head spun for a moment.

“Well, you’re still a lecherous perv,” I deadpanned. “But I also think that you think that’s one of your better qualities.”

From her obnoxious grin, she seemed to think I was right on the money with that one.

Taking a deep breath, I continued, “Are you better? No. I don’t think so. But… you’re not drinking to die anymore. You’re not getting angry and going out and beating up random ponies, killing random creatures in the wilds, nor running away from Star House only to return in a sobbing heap. I think… you moving is a good thing.

“But at the same time, I do still worry about you. You…” I frowned, trying to figure out how to address it. “You like killing. When you fought the radscorpion all those weeks ago, during the battle of Fold… I knew you were alive because I could feel your pleasure. It drifted out across the battlefield like a bright pink bubble floating happily amidst a sea of red anger and yellow fear.”

“Well... yeah. It’s one step down from sex. Acting. Moving. Feeling.” She paused and her smile faded. “I didn’t like that you, or Bubbles, or Glitter might have gotten hurt. That pissed me off. But during a fight I know what to do. Take it apart. Blast. Shoot. Teleport behind. Above. Go for the eyes. Go for the crotch. Go for the gut.” She looked behind her shoulder. “Back in the pit... when you nearly got eaten... it was like a wrench to my brain. I lost the fight. Had to keep you alive. You’re special to me, Thrennie.”

Thrennie? Where was that coming from? Sandalwood’s comments about being cared for by the most dangerous mare in the wasteland echoed in my ears, and I shook my head to clear it.

“I… I am sorry. I didn’t really, you know, want to go into the pit. Among the highlights of the day, that... wouldn’t exactly rank the highest,” I said with a self deprecating grin. “But… I also worry about that because your focus is so… singular. You remind me of the books I read about Wartime Stress Disorder that the Ministry of Peace was trying to fight toward the end of the war. Only knowing how to do one thing. Fight. Anything else is… secondary and not part of the mission. So… I worry sometimes that you’re coming with me and agreeing to go north because it’s yet another quest for you, and that gives you purpose. But it also kind of lets you have an emotional outlet so you don't have to feel the feelings you have when you're sober and stationary.” I shrugged. “Sound about right?”

She seemed to ponder that.

“Kinda,” she admitted, but didn’t seem convinced. “You’re not secondary to me, Thren. You’re primary. So are the others. I don’t want to bury anypony else. So when I have to fight, it’s because of that.” She then gave me a smirk. “Also, I’m waiting for the day when you and I can have sweet love together.”

And there was the immaturity dodge. Serious. Immature. Bob. Weave. Strike. Parry. I had no doubt she wanted a physical relationship, but I also knew bringing it up was a way out for her.

I sighed. “Blackjack, you do know that sometimes death is unavoidable. That some ponies are going to die and there’s nothing you can do about it?” I asked, done with the verbal fencing match going straight for drawing my mental duelling pistol. “I worry that sometimes you’re so overprotective of me and Glitter and Bubblegum because you see facets of Glory, P-21, and Lacunae in us. Obviously you don’t think that’s who we are. But–”

And faster than I could blink, she embraced me, tightly. She pressed her face into the crook of my shoulder and neck and trembled as she held me like I held my Scootaloo plush.

“Yes... I know it is,” she murmured. “And I’m terrified of it. If a bullet is going to take one of my friends, I want it to take me first. I don’t want to see you dead. Any of you. And I’m certain that something is going to take you from me. Some monster. That Peculiar fuck. Or something right out of nowhere. And you’re going to die and I’m going to be alone again and I am fucking terrified of it. And I don’t know how to handle it... laugh? Not care? Get pissed? Fuck til I can’t think?” she whispered, her voice becoming hotter and more strained. “What do I do, Thren? What the fuck do I do?” she asked, shaking harder than ever.

I wrapped my hooves around her barrel as best I could. I didn’t have an answer to that. It wasn’t a fair question. Nopony had an answer to that.

“I… don’t know, Blackjack. But I think you keep doing what you’ve been doing. You keep moving. You keep trying to find ways to cope with the hurt that aren’t blatantly self-destructive. Get taken in by a pack of wild alicorns and raise them like they’re your big, purple, green, and blue timberwolf children. Get a hobby that doesn’t involve murdering the entire pony race? That’s… I don’t know. I don’t know the answer to that. I just…” I pressed my face against the foreleg she held me with. “I’m running just as much as you are. Only from different stuff. I don’t have a good answer there, either, other than just to keep moving so the emotional tide doesn’t swamp me. Even so, I can only run for so long, and I don’t know what’ll happen when that wave hits, so till then, I’m sticking with putting one hoof in front of the other,” I admitted.

“Well then,” she sniffed, pulling back, her red eyes shimmering. The moonlight seemed to turn her tears to silver. “I guess, for the moment, we’ll just run away together till we work it out, right?”

I stared right into those eyes for all of three heartbeats.

Then I kissed her. It seemed like the right thing to do in the moment, but soon white hot shame rippled through me.

“I… yeah…” I said, looking away from her. Why did I do that? Threnody, your life is complicated enough as is! What are you doing, you stupid foal!?

But for once I got a moment. Blackjack, eyes wide in shock, just staring at me. I wondered the severity of the mistake I’d just made as she sat there, shrouded in moonlight, as rogue waves of emotions thundered through her, fighting each other for primacy. Arousal was struck by a pile driver of nostalgia, while fear and worry surged from the depths to spawn a dizzying maelstrom that threatened to drown the other, lighter emotions that clawed toward the surface.

Then she actually blushed. I could feel it like a rose aura. I’d actually made Queen Whiskey herself, baddest mare in the wasteland, blush like a schoolfilly.

“Wow...” she murmured. For the moment, at least, all her slurry of problems disappeared as she gazed at me like a baffled idiot.

“It’s not like I like you or anything!” I protested after a short cough. “It… just seemed like the best way to therapeutically distract you!” I said, trying to speak matter-of-factly, despite the searing shame that blazed beneath my skin and squirmed through my guts.

Great. Now I was the one pushing boundaries. The mirthful smile slowly appearing on her features made it worse.

“Well, I like you. And it worked. And thank you,” she said as she stroked my cheek. “I hope you do it again soon.”

Only then did she pull back enough to give me my space before my own anxieties exploded all over her. I bet you do, pervert. I thought before shaking my head.

“Um… that’s… not like… a full assessment or anything, but… that’s… what I’m seeing. We’re… both fighting to stay one step ahead of a past more monstrous than that critter we fought this afternoon. But I do think we’re at our best with our friends around us.” I shivered at the frigid night breeze blowing across the high desert. “Now, do you want to join us by the fire? It’s… really cold out here. I’m surprised you’re okay with just your barding on.”

“Is it? I didn’t really notice,” she said, not taking her eyes off me.

Her emotions were all pink and rose and bubbles and velvet. Oh, sure, her toxic feelings were still there. They were just way... way... way down. How the heck had a kiss done that? She’d kissed me before and she hadn’t felt much different...

Of course. Because I had kissed her. And because she’d stopped me when I’d been infatuated earlier, now she treated it like it was something... more. And it was that something more that she craved, no matter how much it might hurt her. It was probably the most ponyish thing about her. After all... who didn’t want love and affection from another?

Except me… I didn’t know what the hell I was supposed to do with it. How could I? I’d spent my life knowing I wasn’t wanted for who I was. Now I was and what the fuck was up with that?

I finally nodded after staring at her for what would have been an uncomfortable amount of time to anypony else.

“Yeah. Don’t you notice stuff like that?” I pondered. “I noticed how you didn’t seem bothered by the heat during the day.”

“I dunno. I guess it didn’t really register. I mean... I saw it was hot. I just didn’t feel it. Like now. I know it’s cold. It just doesn’t feel that cold. You know?”

“No, I don’t. It’s freezing. I’m glad I have feathers cause otherwise it’d be really awful!” I said, frowning in concern. “How… long have you not been noticing temperatures?”

“I notice them. I just don’t... you know... feel them.” She frowned and looked around. “It’s not pleasantly cool to you right now?” she asked as she looked around the desert.

I shook my head.

“Hmm… wonder if it has to do with your body being a blank,” I mused. “Cause… it’s cold enough that my pipbuck is telling me to get near a fire,” I said, consulting the device on my right foreleg. The little pony on the screen bore a wide, chattering rictus and had icicles hanging from her nose. “It’s... pretty cold. Like cloud height cold.” I paused as I stared down at the pipbuck. “Blackjack, did… that monster earlier show up on your EFS? Cause I don’t remember seeing it on mine…”

“No. I didn’t see it either. Maybe the EFS couldn’t detect it because it was buried or something?”

I shuddered. “I hope so. I don’t like the idea of sharing a wasteland with monsters I can’t see…”

She reached over and gave me a hug. “Better ones we can’t see than ones we can’t fight.” She then nodded towards the fire. “Come on. Let’s get warmed up.”

We were still a half-day out from Maredras when from above us, Hyacinth squealed in delight. She’d been on the wing and fiddling with her pipbuck for the better part of an hour and finally seeming to have found success, landed in the middle of us, prancing about with delight.

“I got it to work!” she said, pressing the play button as the chords of a slow song faded in.

“Got what to work? The radio?” I asked.

“Not just the radio, silly!” she said, grinning. “This is The Punk’s station! She runs Counterculture radio out of Portlandia! She’s constantly playing old protest songs from the war, and tries to tell people to resist what the Family is doing in Seaddle and Vanhoover.”

I frowned. “The Family has influence there?” I asked. “I mean… Seaddle I guess makes sense. That’s where they’re from. But… is it really a problem in Portlandia and Vanhoover?”

Hyacinth nodded solemnly. “It’s part of why we’ve not been trying to explore that way. The ganger wars in Portlandia are being made worse by the Family’s meddlings. They keep pushing their ideas of unicorn supremacy and how magic will save the wasteland. It’s so frustrating! Our Stable has always believed in the magic of friendship. I’m not sure I fully buy that, but I think working together will do more to make this place less hellish than using the way you were born as an excuse to lord it over everypony else.”

As if on cue, the voice of a young, almost adolescent-sounding mare rang clearly along the road.

“Hey out there to my favourite motherbuckers! This is The Punk, bringin’ you the raddest sounds of counterculture in the wasteland. Comin’ at you from my pirate radio station somewhere in Portlandia. And I’d like to cheer on the Family as they try – and fail yet again – to find me with a giant, warm ‘go fuck yourself’! Can’t stop the signal, sweethearts. I’m here to spit truth about the shit that we’ve had to swallow here in the wasteland, the irradiated, maggot-ridden corpse we all call home! And also like to offer a big ol’ ‘fuck you’ to all you dumbfucks out there that are still killin’ each other. Lookin’ at you, Blood Brothers! Yeah, I see you chucklefucks there in VanHoover. You shit-for-brains need to stop being dumbfucks and stringing each other up! What does killin’ your cousins do for you, really? Love and tolerate for fuck’s sake!”

Solidarity rolled his eyes at the radio DJ, but she made me chuckle.

“I’m here to tell you all that the only way any of us are gonna be free is to fight the power! Fuck the NCR! Fuck the Enclave Remnant! Fuck the raiders and gangers out there that keep us buried up to our necks in hate and fear and shit! And if you don’t like it, well I cordially invite you to an all-you-can-eat buffet courtesy of my fucking ass!” she yelled into the radio. “But enough truth bombs for now. Let me tell you about this kid that gets it!”

“Turns out the Family, bad bunch of fucking assholes that they are, recently took over Fold. Then this kid shows up and says ‘Fuck no, this shit’s wack!’ This tiny pega-punk stood up to that bitch Sweetness, and rumour has it she melted the thot’s face! Fuckin’ A grade rad, kid! Not only that, but she managed to get the whole town to flip their shit, stand up and push the Family out of their town for good.”

I felt heat rush to my face as I realised who the ‘kid’ she was talking about was. The rest of the party turned and stared at me, Blackjack silently mouthing ‘pega-punk’, as The Punk continued.

“But that’s not all! No, as soon as those cats were are out of there then who else but the fuckin NCR show up and kindly offer to ‘rule’ them, but the good folks of Fold knew what was up and gave ‘em a big, fat ‘fuck you!’ by way of reply! Let me tell you motherbuckers that no master, no king and no fuckin’ governments out there in the wasteland are gettin’ it right, and they never will! So fight the power, be radical to each other, and fuckin’ don’t be dicks. Is it so hard? Can’t we all get along and be friends! The wasteland ain’t a paradise, but it sucks ten times harder than it has to cause of all the fightin’ and killin’. So stop being cunts to each other and fighting every goddamned minute so we can stop just survivin’ and start fuckin’ livin’!”

The Punk took a deep, exaggerated breath in, then let out a long sigh.

“Whew, stuff like that gets me right worked up. So let’s chill out a minute with another golden oldie from the war. Now, before you all get up in my grill about how it’s called ‘Zombie’, remember it didn’t mean back then what it does now. This is motherfucking Songbird Serenade singing with Bad Jackal from the Zebra lands, and they want you to think about what the fuck you are fighting for. So what’s in your heads, zombies?”

A slow piano intro started playing as The Punk stopped speaking. I listened quietly as we started moving toward Maredras again. The zebra’s rich baritone voice mournfully sang out about fillies and colts dying. He was joined by the melodic voice of Songbird Serenade in the chorus, and I couldn’t help but smile as I caught Bubblegum, Glitter, and Puddle bobbing their heads with the heavy guitar and bass melody of the chorus.

“How long has The Punk been around?” I asked, wading through a bunch of different emotions as the heavy song ended.

Hyacinth lowered the volume of the radio, and she looked thoughtful a moment.

“I think… about eight years now? She started broadcasting a bit after the Day of Sunshine and Rainbows. After that, she just showed up on the airwaves. Used to be hard for us to get anything but a very staticky DJ Pon3 and well… Family Friendly Radio,” she said, spitting out the last words like they had a foul taste.

“Family Friendly Radio.” Bubblegum deadpanned.

“Yeah… it’s the Family’s attempts at outreach to the the wasteland,” Puddle explained, still bouncing along to the beat of the softly playing song. “It’s really bad. Like… they’re always going on about the same things, like how rights doesn’t do anypony any good and so they need to submit to the Family so they can save the wasteland with magic. The stallion who usually talks is always going on about how dumb The Punk is. Or he’ll randomly start talking about weird stuff. Like watching the lights of a flying saucer hovering over a Donut Joe’s.”

I wasn’t one hundred percent sure what to make of that. “That’s… not normal. Dare I ask what the ‘family friendly’ songs are like?”

Hyacinth made a face. “Well, certainly nothing like Zombie. Or Kukushka! Oh! I love Kukushka!” The yellow pegasus sighed. “Yeah, the Family plays like… really old, really bland songs. I’m pretty sure they’ve tried to pass off old Snack Cake commercials as actual music.”

Glitter Bomb perked up at the mention of Snack Cakes.

“I like Snack Cakes though. And Kookaburra sounds familiar to me for some reason.” She frowned, and started smacking her forehead with a hoof. “Stupid brain, why can’t you remember?”

Bubblegum gently patted Glitter’s shoulder. “I think she said Kukushka, not Kookaburra, Glitter.”

“That’s what I said! It’s a pretty song in another language about a Cuckoo bird and how the ponies lay their heads down in the fields of battle, with gunpowder in their hooves,” she said quietly.

Hyacinth blinked at Glitter. “How… wait… how do you know that? I know that, but that’s because I studied the Stalliongrad language from books we have in the library at the Stable. That’s… interesting that you know that, Glitter!”

Glitter smiled, then bounced happily.

“Yeah, I think I remember somepony I liked singing it to me,” she said.

“Do you remember the lyrics?” Puddle asked, looking up at my big purple friend.

Glitter closed her eyes a moment, then sang out happily.

“Pesen eshche nenapisannykh, skol'ko?
Skazhi, kukushka, propoy.
V gorode mne zhit' ili na vyselkakh,
Kamnem lezhat' ili goret' zvezdoy?
Zvezdoy.”

She grinned sheepishly as everypony stopped to stare at her. “I… don’t remember what it means, but I think it’s pretty!”

Hyacinth’s eyes were wide as Glitter sang out in a strange language I didn’t understand. “How… you… just… perfect… Stalliongradi? What?”

“Purple?” Glitter offered unhelpfully.

I patted Glitter’s hoof. “I think it’s cool that you remember that at all, Glitter. Are your memories coming back?”

Glitter shook her head. “Nope. No mementos. Just little bits and pieces of candies that make me wish I knew more,” she admitted with a sigh. “But… it’s okay. I have friends! And Bubbles! And I remember them much better than I do my mommy.”

Puddle, Hyacinth, Bubblegum, and I piled onto Glitter, giving her a group hug.

“Hey kids? If you don’t mind, I’d like to make it to Maredras before nightfall,” Solidarity called gently from a bit ahead of us. Blackjack stood at his side, an odd smile on her muzzle.

“Sorry, Mr. Solidarity!” Glitter called out, trying to extricate herself from our hug.

She managed to drag Puddle, Hyacinth and I, but Bubbles made it so she couldn’t move on her left side, and ended up walking around in a circle.

“Bubbles!” she whined.

The five of us laughed at the silliness of the scene. We were still in a dangerous part of the wasteland. It was home to enemies that EFS couldn’t pick up, and it was hotter than the flames of Tartarus, but we were together. And we were friends. As we started moving again, it struck me that maybe Puddle and the rest of Stable 9 were onto something with this whole friendship magic business.

And that made it all the more terrifying. Friendship was a vague, strange concept to me. I’d spent the better part of my life utterly alone. When Willow Glen found me and identified me as a heartmender, I was brought to the Followers for training. There, I met Glitter. I didn’t see her enough to become close but she quickly became one of my favourite ponies.

But at the same time… we weren't given the space become friends on our own. When we were allowed to talk or play, it was always monitored. Glitter was a big alicorn, and I was a malnourished, fragile pegasus filly. I think the adults were afraid that Glitter would hurt me if things got rough and tumble. Really, all she wanted was to have a tea party. So we did! We had a tea party with her and Mr. Chompers, her toy dinosaur, and Larry, her teddy bear. It… was the most fun I’d had in years. Even if it was just pretend.

She was my friend, and I liked her a lot. Then… my duties as heartmender took me away from her for long periods of time. Moments when I got to see her became more precious than fresh roses. More important than all the Cherry Sparkle~Colas in the world. Friendship was very important. Just… potentially very painful.

As we trotted toward the low-lying town of Maredras, Hyacinth turned the radio back up. We got to listen to the brittle sound of “Broken Equestrian” by a band that I didn’t catch. I tried to savour the walk, just being with my friends, listening to the sounds of this filly trying to spread love and friendship to the wasteland in her own way by countering the abrasive culture of hate that the NCR, Enclave, and other governments formented on a daily basis.

I couldn’t help but hope that The Punk was on the right track, scary as the prospects of love and friendship were…

Maredras was a strange town to walk into. It was laid out like a typical sprawling plains settlement, not all that dissimilar to old Appleloosa. The town extended along a main street that ran between a pair of low hills. The geography allowed a little water to pool in a few puny lakes that likely fed the surrounding fields before the war.

The town wasn’t so much a blasted ruin like many wasteland towns I’d wandered through. Rather, it wore its decay in a more subtle way. It looked like ponies hadn’t been here in a long time, and all the buildings were in the long process of sighing themselves to death in the absence of any modicum of care.

Solidarity and Bubblegum took point as we made our way through the ghost town. Puddle, Hyacinth, and I kept our eyes peeled for anypony they might miss while Blackjack and Glitter brought up the rear.

“Weren’t nopony near here when we last passed. But I don’t trust the Family to not be skulkin’ round these parts,” Solidarity drawled as we picked our way through the main street.

“Nor I,” Bubbles added quietly. “This place would be a strange one for an ambush, but… that Peculiar dude strikes me as the kind of weirdo who would try it.”

Blackjack grunted as we picked our way carefully through the sad little town. All around us lay remnants of the life that once suffused this place, including a massive Stable-Tec billboard. Though it only had a few smidges of colour left, I could just barely make out the words advertising for placement in Stables 9 and 11. A bit of painted text on the bottom of the billboard caught my eye, and I trotted over to read it.

‘For Sale, one garage. Hardly used. Stable-Tec is finally paying me enough to afford a place in Portlandia. Call for more information. Affordable rates!’ it read.

“Who puts an advertisement for a garage on a Stable-Tec announcement?” I wondered aloud to the group.

Puddle started giggling.

“Oh! It’s the garage sign!” She trotted around behind the sign, disappearing out of sight as the rest of the party made their way over to us. “Hey! Our box is still here!”

Answering the call, Solidarity darted around the sign, leaving Bubblegum and Blackjack to exchange consternated glances. The unicorn stallion soon returned, a bottle of Wild Pegasus levitating in his magic.

“Told myself I’d come back for this one. Been savin’ it,” he said, levitating his flask from his saddlebags as he set out to refill it.

“Does that mean I actually get some this time, Dad?” Hyacinth asked as Solidarity poured the foul smelling amber liquid into his flask.

“No. Because you’re still a kid,” he replied quickly. “That goes for you, too, Puddle. And Glitter.” He paused as he glanced over to Blackjack, Bubblegum, and I. “You three, maybe.”

“What? Blackjack I get, but why Bubblegum and Threnody?” the pegasus protested.

Solidarity turned and looked at his daughter. “Why do you keep calling her Blackjack?”

It was at that moment I realised that we’d been referring to Blackjack by her real name. And Puddle and Hyacinth had picked up on it. If we had any aspirations of being spies, they probably just took a nosedive off of a cliff with sharp pointy rocks at the bottom.

Blackjack just shrugged.

“It’s a nickname I picked up. You know, Go Fish, Blackjack… both are card games…” she said slyly.

Solidarity glared reproachfully at her and resealed the bottle.

“Okay, your whiskey rations are now cut off for lying,” he muttered. “I don’t care what your real name is, just… you know, at this point it probably would’ve been a good plan to tell us. That way I’m not referrin’ to you as something weird. Plus I like to know aliases. Makes it easier to deal with ya when you’re up to shenanigans. Not to mention the fact that, if we’re going to be friendly-like here, it’s gonna take some honesty.”

Blackjack snatched the bottle of whiskey out of his grasp with a pop and floated it next to her head as she gazed at the older stallion. There was a strange set of feelings that ran rapidly underneath the surface for her. Ugh, Blackjack! Why couldn’t you have simple emotions. Ones that weren’t ‘right side down’ and ‘orange’? I tensed.

“Well, my birth name is Go Fish. My nickname is Blackjack. DJ PON3 called me ‘Security’. And the immortal head of the zebra remnant called me ‘Maiden of the Stars’. For a time I almost went by ‘Princess Luna’ too.” She popped the stopper. “Also added to my resume is me gassing almost the entirety of my stable to death, destroying a battleship with a pistol, dying three times, blowing up an Enclave fortress with a megaspell, travelling to the moon, and slaying an undead star god. Oh, and until recently, every friend I’ve ever made has wound up dead, or stranded on the moon.” She swirled the bottle, never taking her eyes off Solidarity and look a long, long pull from it, chugging down almost a quarter before letting out a satisfied gasp, smacking her lips, and swirling the contents again. “Any questions?”

Solidarity stared at her for a long, hard moment – the kind of stare that only security ponies and lawstallions could make – before shifting his gaze to me.

“She serious?” he asked.

“Like a bad case of taint exposure,” I replied, secretly hoping that this wasn’t the moment that Blackjack snapped and murdered our travelling companions. “And, um, speaking of which, she can drink taint to heal, like it’s healing potion.”

Solidarity tilted his head to the side and grunted. “Huh. Well, that clears things up. Sort of. Though the bit about gassin’ the stable makes me a might uneasy to bring you back to 9. That an emergency sort of measure? Cause that I can understand, otherwise I’m of half a mind to leave you all here in Maredras and continue off on our own. So if ya don’t mind, lawpony to lawpony, if you really were ‘Security’ as you say, give it to me straight.”

To Solidarity’s credit, he snagged the bottle back from Blackjack and matched her gulp for gulp before levelling a ‘bored but ready to kill’ gaze at Blackjack. A gaze which I felt was rather unwise of him to display.

“Well, my stable was exposed to a plague that turned ponies cannibal. I didn’t know how many had been exposed, and a quarter going savage was almost more than I could handle the first time. To be fair, I totally planned on dying with them. Seemed only fair. I was leaving them to burn and choke to death in chlorine gas, only fitting I die too. Unfortunately, the Goddess seemed to take a personal interest in me and I was yanked out before I kicked it too. So... sheriff... or are you the judge in this little exchange... does that count as an ‘emergency’ sort of measure?” she asked back, in almost a matching lazy drawl.

Solidarity frowned as he listened to the story. I glanced around and realised that the entire party was watching these two ponies stare each other down. Hyacinth’s wings were splayed open behind her, and she anxiously pawed at the dirt while her dad had a pissing match with one of the most dangerous mares in the wasteland.

It was Bubblegum’s expression and emotions that caught me off guard. His face had turned hard as Blackjack talked, and for the first time I was feeling something rather dark and unpleasant being directed at Blackjack. He took a step closer to the pair of unicorns, but said nothing. That movement set me on edge.

After a moment, Solidarity relaxed and offered Blackjack a smirk. “It’s constable. Never would let our Overmare pin the badge on me after our stable sheriff bought it at Hoof River with my wife,” he replied.

The small pained expression that passed over his features was a thin mask for the massive sinkhole of suffering that Solidarity was hiding beneath the surface. My goddesses. Blackjack really did attract the most emotionally damaged ponies in the wasteland!

“If it’s any consolation, keeping me away from Stable 9 is as easy as convincing Threnody not to go,” Blackjack said as she took another drink. “And if she wants to go, then your folks will stay safe by not standing in the way. I’m a very easy, simple sort of pony. Live and let live. Enjoy life. And obliterate anything that dares threaten what and who I care about. So, do we have an understanding, constable?”

Solidarity nodded once. “We do. I’d say we’re on the same level,” he glanced up at Bubblegum as the inky black torrents beneath his facade of calm were threatening to boil. “You got something to add, son?”

Almost simultaneously, Blackjack also glanced over at him as well. Bubblegum froze, and those feelings of anger were quickly drowned by those of embarrassment.

“No. Just… making sure that Blackjack and you didn’t start fighting. I’d hate to have to step in and knock both of you senseless,” he replied.

He tried to give what I think was his attempt at a cocky grin, but it came off as adolescent and sheepish in the moment.

As concerning as the prospect of inter-party violence was, what worried me more was the fact that Bubblegum was angry. And that anger was directed at Blackjack without any seeming cause. I knew he at least had heard of Blackjack before, and apparently had even met Glory face-to-face once, but… the depth of his anger was breathtaking. A part of me resolved to get to the bottom of it. But… it didn’t seem like the smart thing to do in front of Blackjack. It might have even started a fight right after we avoided one by a margin I wouldn’t dare guess at. And so I logged it away under ‘more mysteries that I needed to unearth about our enigmatic earth pony companion.’

“Next time you’d like to try knocking me senseless, let me know. It’ll be fun,” Blackjack said with a grin and seemed to draw a line in the sand. I was on one side of it with her, and Bubblegum... well... wasn’t. Then she regarded Solidarity a moment, and then said to Hyacinth, “You got a really cool dad. It makes me wish he was my dad too.”

Hyacinth finally lay her wings flat against her sides.

“Yeah, he’s… alright. I guess,” she said trotting up to nudge his side. “But seriously, he is cool. I’d prefer that the two of you not get into it. I’m… not exactly ready and willing to take care of Violet on my own.”

Solidarity looked down at her with a quirked eyebrow. “Are you thinking if Go… Black… Which do you prefer, actually?” he asked.

“Which would you prefer to be called? Go Fish, or Blackjack?” she asked in turn with a snort. There was a lesion of angst forming in her own psyche... seriously, was there anything that didn’t have a ‘bad reaction’ with her? Well... beyond me?

Solidarity chuckled. “Blackjack, definitely. Not sure what your folks were thinkin’ givin’ you that name,” he said, turning back to Hyacinth. “Now… you were thinking dear old dad was gonna lose if I got into a tussle with her?”

Hyacinth looked at Blackjack.

“Uh… dad? If she did all the things that she said she did, then yeah. I think you’re a little outclassed.” Solidarity’s ears wilted. “Don’t do the face not the face oh goddess dad no stop!” She started lightly batting at his shoulder with her hooves. “You’re not supposed to make that face when we’re not in trouble!”

“Take out the horn with a magic bullet, teleport behind you, shotgun blast to the back of your left leg, teleport next to you, second shot to the side of your head,” Blackjack murmured, her red eyes not blinking. Then she gave a little smile that was about a nine on the creepy factor as she finished off the rest of the bottle. “Trust me, Constable. I’m a good friend. Threnody’s a good friend. Bubblegum and Glitter too. Please don’t make me kill good ponies. I hate it when I do that.”

Then she popped the bottle on top of her horn and trotted a little down the street.

“She’d be much more convincing if she didn’t say that with a raider’s grin on her muzzle,” Bubblegum rumbled as Blackjack made her way down the street.

Solidarity watched her go, then gave me a hard look.

“So… I’m beginning to understand why Sandalwood may have been a bit… averse to lettin’ you go anywhere with her.”

I shrank down under Solidarity, Bubblegum, and Hyacinth’s combined gazes. Puddle and Glitter appeared to have missed the exchange while going through the snack cakes that had been left in the box along with Solidarity’s whiskey.

“I… am a heartmender, though,” I explained meekly. “I know what I’m doing. Sort of.” I huffed. “Look, if you know anypony anywhere that’s better qualified to deal with that, introduce me! Because for some reason she... I... we... It’s working out. This is actually better! So... yeah. I’m heartmenderering.”

And with that I sat down, crossing my forehooves in a decided grump.

Solidarity didn’t look convinced. “You’re the last one of the group you work with, the Followers, right? You’re the only one left to work with her, ain’t’cha?”

My grumpiness surged into outright pique as I glared up at him.

“Maybe.” I blinked as a horrible, delightful realization came over me. An odd grin forced itself onto my lips. “No.... No! I’m not the last! I’m not!”

I let out a mad little laugh as I jabbed a hoof at him.

“There is one more heartmender I can refer her to,” I burst out. “The one in Stable 9! She can deal with her! It’s the perfect plan!”

I raised my hooves, laughing maniacally. All I was missing was a peal of thunder!

He shook his head. “Kid, I don’t envy you in the slightest,” he rubbed my mane with a forehoof. “Now to go see if I can get Bubblegum to open that stuck door for me.”

Bubblegum and I looked up at him in confusion.

“Stuck door? What does that have to do with me?” Bubbles asked.

“There’s an unlooted bar down the road from here. Blackjack just supped my whiskey, and I aim to see if they’ve got any left in there,” Solidarity replied, trotting down the road. “And don’t give me that look, Cynthie. You know damned well I sleep better with a bit of it in my belly.”

I sighed and got to my hooves. “Puddle, Glitter? I think we’re moving on. Don’t want you to get left behind.”

My pair of friends looked up to see everypony starting to follow after Blackjack.

“Wait for us! Don’t leave us here in the creepy town!”

This was going to be a very, very… very long trip.

We bedded down for the night at the far end of Maredras. The first glimpse of the Red Forest’s canopy was just barely coming into view when we got to the small home that we were able to break into. I was struck with some disappointment that the tall conifers appeared to be just as lifeless as the trees around the rest of the wasteland, save for the sickenly red colour to their trunks. It made me miss the green of the trees we’d encountered around Fold.

Bubbles had made short work of the bar door. Blackjack’s hungry expression as he was bucking in told me she’d loved tearing the frontage of the building herself. Nopony would stand against her want of alcohol. Or maybe was it her new want for Bubblegum?

I didn’t know. My empathic sense was getting blurry from being dead tired after the walk. As the night’s coolness seeped into the dilapidated home we’d borrowed for shelter, I found myself curled up on an old, musty mattress generally hating the group of assholes I was travelling with. Puddle had started to get on my nerves on about the fiftieth joke of the day. Glitter had stepped on my tail at least twice. Hyacinth was constantly bobbing her head and singing along - badly - to the music that the Punk was playing.

The boys were being weirdos, especially Bubblegum with the dark looks he kept tossing at Blackjack’s rear. I’d tried to pin him down to talk to him once we’d settled in our lodgings for the night, but he froze me out emotionally. I wasn’t sure how he managed it, but through stubbornness or sheer force of will, he’d managed to be nigh inscrutable. What emotions did leak through his grumpy, glare-y mask were muffled and confused. So instead of talking about it, he snagged Glitter Bomb to go on a quest for more snack cakes and Big Mac and Cheese boxes for dinner. Honestly I was too tired to go searching for him after that.

And Blackjack?

Blackjack was being Blackjack.

“So Thren. I need to ask you something,” she murmured as she trotted in and jumped down on the mattress, the tired springs giving a squeak as she landed on her back. “It’s kinda personal and a little crude. You up for it?”

“Up for what?” I asked, pained. “Blackjack, am I ever really ‘up for it’? But fine, ask anyways…” I groaned dejectedly.

“I... really... want to screw Solidarity. Like... really. More than Slate. It’s weird! He’s so much older but I laid all I’d done on him and he actually stared me down! Like, if I could, I’d give Hyacinth a sibling tonight,” she said as she screwed her face up. “Is this a daddy thing? I think this might be a daddy thing. I never knew my dad so maybe?”

I sighed.

“Blackjack, do you think that maybe it’s not a dad thing so much as a ‘I tried to show dominance and he resisted’ thing?” I asked, giving her a flat look. “I mean… you already said you’re not into incest, so that’s one fetish-y reason we can safely eliminate from your pool of excuses to have somepony buck you senseless.”

I winced at the feelings of lust that threatened to swamp me off of the mattress.

“But that’s the thing! It’s not like Slate. Him, I wanted to rut till I was numb. It’s almost more like Stygius. Like... where he just has this look and I’m like... oh yeah.” She gave a throaty chuckle that made me cringe. “Anyway, that’s not the important thing I wanted to talk to you about. I mean the actual reason why I want to holster his baton.”

Why Blackjack? Why must you make these metaphors? Oh goddesses I was thinking about it.

I facehooved. “So… what was the question then? Reasons that you have to um… be intimate with somepony aside?”

“Would it hurt you if I did it with him?” she asked.

I blinked and saw her laying on her side. Her eyes were... soft now. Her smile casual and happy. There was concern coming off her, but it was less ‘oh what will I do if she dies’ and more ‘what will make Threnody happy?’

“I mean, I want to... but not if you’d be upset,” She explained. “Because you matter more to me, Thren.”

I was going to start with a quip about ‘as long as the mattress squeaking didn’t keep me up’, but her concern for my thoughts on the matter gave me pause. I hadn’t thought about it, really. I knew I cared about her, but… the idea of doing anything involving bits that existed beneath tails made me sick to my stomach. So… did I care whether or not she was with Solidarity?

The immediate part of my brain gave me ‘not really’. But there was a small part of me that was a bit… confused about where exactly she landed in my heart. I liked her, but… in exactly what way, I didn’t know. And I wasn’t quite ready to explore that just yet.

“I… mean as long as you’re not like… taking advantage of him and dropping PTMs into his whiskey, I… really don’t mind,” I said with a small smile. That small part of me growled at my rational reasonableness. “I mean, Hyacinth might get kinda squicked out if she hears you, but…” I trailed off and shrugged. “I mean you’re both consenting adults. You do you, Blackjack.”

I immediately regretted my choice in words. My brain helpfully supplied the images of a series of Blackjack clones in a line of debauchery and lusty entanglements, which made me want to throw up. I was pretty sure that the wasteland wouldn’t survive that level of lasciviousness. I was sure I wouldn’t.

But instead the emotional lust turned into a melange of... something else. Something pink and soft and feathery.

“Mmm... kay.” She didn’t immediately get off the bed though. Instead she rolled on to her tummy, folding her forehooves under her chin. “Mind if I brush your wings? Hooves off, of course. Your feathers are a bit battered after that fight with the sand thingy.”

My feathers were kind of a mess between the fight and the heat of the day, but I was skeptical of Blackjack’s motives.

“Um… I guess if you’re offering,” I said hesitantly. “But… may I ask what brought this on so suddenly after talking of doing the dirty with Solidarity?”

She just smiled as her horn started to glow and I felt a caressing sensation pass over my feathers.

“You thought that’s what I was talking about? You’ve got a dirty mind, Thren.” But she didn’t stop smiling as that magic worked its... well... magic, on my feathers. The dirt and dust was magically deposited on the floor beside the bed. “I wasn’t talking about doing him. I was talking about how you’d feel if I did,” she said as her magic gently manipulated my wings.

I relaxed a little as the soothing touch of her magic cleaned my wings and gently preened my feathers into proper flight alignment.

“Oh… sorry for… misinterpreting that then…” I said sleepily. “Like I said earlier though, what you do with him doesn’t bother me too much. You have needs, Blackjack, and I understand that. Plus… some of those needs are things that I’m… not really equipped to fulfil. Okay, well physically I’m capable of doing that, but…” A shudder ran down my spine at the thought, cooling off the growling part of me that was at least a little jealous of the idea of her with somepony.

“Mmmm,” she said, her smile growing. “What you didn’t say was ‘no, it won’t bother me.’” She opened one red eye to peer at me. “I messed up one relationship and hurt someone I loved because I did what my crotch wanted me to. I don’t want to mess up again with you,” she said as she closed her eye once more. “By the by... if you want... I can take your duster off and give you a brushing. And that’s not an innuendo, just actual brushing.”

Who was this strange mare in bed beside me ready to forgo chasing sex with a stallion she was attracted to for little, old, worthless me? It had to be a changeling... or maybe another brain tumor... or maybe... maybe you should take off your armor, that treasonous part of my brain whispered.

I shook away the thought. No. That… that would be too intimate. Too close. Besides, Blackjack had just opened up about hurting Glory.

“Are you worried I’ll react like Glory did?” I asked instead.

“No. You’re not her. She’d have taken her coat off already,” she replied. Her smile remained, but it became far more pensive. “I assumed sex was sex with her. Organs and orgasms. Part of me still thinks that. Something fun to do. But for her... it wasn’t just sex. It was love. Intimacy. I didn’t know that. I didn’t understand it. Still don’t, really. But I know that a pony might say they’re okay with something they’re not because they don’t want to hurt or stand in the way of another pony’s happiness. So that’s why I’m not going to do anything with him. Not till I know that me and you aren’t a thing.” She looked at me again. “I’m learning from my mistakes. No matter how much it hurts.”

Panic set in when she brought up the idea of us being a thing. I’d been listening to her, but my mind had gotten caught up on the idea that she was asking me about things she didn’t understand like love. I didn’t have a fucking clue about it either and now, all of a sudden, we’re a thing? When did we become a thing? Why things?

“Wh-when did things become us?” I stammered as she unfairly ran a cool bit of magic between my pinions. “I’m glad you are learning, but it’s hard to answer when you do that.”

“Which makes it all the more fun,” she replied. “You’re adorable when you bite your bottom lip when I do this.” She gave another stroke. I willed myself not to- oh, damnit! I did bite my lip! “As for when... the moment I kissed you at Star House and you came back, we were a thing. The thing’s changed, a little here and a little there, but we’re still a thing.”

I really wished I had a manual for all of this. I sure as hell didn’t realise that I was signing up for anything! Talk of Things implied we were far more intimate than I was aware of. That thought brought on equal blends of panic, rage, and frustration. I didn’t ask for this, and if I had been asked about it, she would have gotten a flat ‘no.’

I sighed.

“Blackjack… what do you mean by ‘thing?’ Because in my head I am interpreting that as we’re in a relationship of some sort, which… aside from being friends and well, in theory having a working relationship between a heartmender and a client, uh… did I miss something? Have I been missing something? I know you like me, but I’m also kind of dense and I don’t exactly know what you mean…”

“Friendship is a thing. Love is thing. Lust is a thing. They’re all things. Sometimes they’re the same thing. Sometimes they’re not. But I guess you have to figure that out,” she said as she stopped her preening. “Security saves ponies, Thren. And while you’ve been saving me, I want to save you too. I want to help you find happiness and joy in this world. I want to stand in front of you when you need protecting, and at your side when you need to fight. You’re like a key to a lock. You understand me better than almost anypony else. Better than Glory, honestly. And I loved Glory. I still do. With every bit of my heart. That’s a thing that will never leave me. But I also love you too, just as strong, and this time, I’m trying to treat you the way I should have treated her. Staying in control. Asking permission... and yeah, occasionally annoying the heck out of you. Because that’s the thing I have for you.”

Before my panic fully engulfed me, she went on, “Now, I get you don’t have the same thing for me. Maybe you never will. And that’s cool. I’ll live if not. But until you’re sure, I’m going to keep treating you as special, because you are, and you probably always will be.”

I stared at her for a long moment. I didn’t understand her at all, but I understood her better than Glory?! How? How in the hell did that make any sense at all? And I was special? What kind of brain damage did becoming a blank give her?

“I… guess I just don’t get why. I… understand, I suppose, in some ways that I’m the only one who’s been trying to understand you by like… not engaging you like a heartmender. For better or for worse for both of us, but…” I shook my head. “I… don’t know what we are, Blackjack. I know we’re friends. I like you a lot, and I want to do my best to support you. But… I also… I also don’t want you to miss out on things that make you happy. If you want to go buck Solidarity, please do. I don’t mind, honest.”

As I said it, there was a small part of me that was screaming in outrage. But I ignored her.

“You spend so much time trying to make sure that everypony else is safe and happy, and then you go and act like you really don’t deserve it yourself. And… as your… something, that makes me hurt for you,” I admitted quietly.

“Like I said. You understand me,” she murmured. “I’d really like to give you a brushing. If you’d rather not, then I’ll go and see how Solidarity takes flirting with a mare a third his age. But you get first priority, Thren. First and always.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

“I… okay. I’m sorry, Blackjack. I just… I am grateful for the offer, but… right now the idea of being that intimate is still really, really scary to me. I’m… probably not going to change that stance overnight. I’m working on it. But… it’s… gonna take me some time to be okay with that. And I cannot stress enough that this is my damage.” I said, shaking my head. “My lots of damage…”

“I get damage, Thren. Don’t worry.” And she leaned over and gave my cheek a little nuzzle before she rose. “Well then, I guess I’ll feel out Solidarity then. See if he’s friendly. After all, he might not be over his wife.”

She gave me one long look. One last moment to change my mind. Tell her! Roared that selfish little part of me. Tell her to stay and cuddle and make you feel good!

But I didn’t tell her. I nuzzled her cheek back instead.

“Oh, I’m… pretty sure you’ll find a way to persuade him,” I said with a tired smile. “But… thank you for helping me with my wings. It was super relaxing!” I offered her a smirk. “Now maybe I’ll be able to get to sleep before the squeaking of the mattress keeps me awake all night!”

“You think my preening spell is good. You should try my brushing spell,” she said with a smirk of her own and I felt an ethereal glowing brush manifest and caress its way through the dusty hide of my cheek. It vanished a second later, but why was I all... tingly. It had to be magic... dumb stupid unicorn cheating magic!

She turned on her hoof, giving me a little wink over her shoulder as she stepped out and closed the door. I lay there, alone, on a musty mattress, my mental fortifications still sound and my emotional fortress secure... save for one traitorous thought that was tisking softly and shaking her head.

You idiot...

Author's Notes:

Yay! Hopefully with the changes to my job, it won't take me 3 months to update this time. So when coordinating with the translation team that translates Speak into Russian, they suggested that I post the youtube link to Kukushka because it may not be well known or obvious of what song I was talking about. Honestly, I wouldn't've known about it unless I'd randomly been stumbling through videos on Amazon prime and found one about one of my childhood (and well, adulthood) heroes, Lyudmila Pavlichenko. She was an amazing woman, and one of the scariest snipers in history. I loved reading about her when I was doing research in my 4th year of primary school, and honestly think she's still super neat.

Now that I've made you all convinced my childhood existed as this mélange of horses (because i loved horses) and military stuff, which makes me sound like a gender confused Christopher Robin, hopefully I'll get the next chapter out sooner rather than later! Thank you all so much for reading and sticking through the summer wait with me!