The sheets were a tangled, sweaty mess that had mostly been kicked to the bottom of the bed by the time Gilda woke up. Not terribly surprising given what the two of them had gotten up to last night. Sunset was still curled up in Gilda’s arms, her breathing slow and steady with slumber. Smiling, Gilda pulled the covers closer around them and brushed her lips against Sunset’s forehead.

Gilda couldn’t think of anything in her entire life that made her as happy as she was right at that moment. The air was still freezing cold, nothing was going to solve the problem of thin walls and crap insulation, but Gilda was exactly as warm as she needed to be.

A subdued buzzing sound interrupted Gilda’s flow of happy thoughts. With one hand trapped under her girlfriend, Gilda flailed as gently as possible for her phone which was laying plugged in on the floor on her side of the bed. It took some awkward stretching but after a moment Gilda got a grip on the plug wire and lifted it like a fishing line. Crankshaft was calling her at eight in the morning, which meant…

“Ugh,” Gilda groaned quietly as she thumbed the green call button. “Yo, Crank, ‘sup?”

//Grifa! Ibuenas!//

Crankshaft’s cheery voice grated on Gilda who was already fishing for her underwear before remembering she’d thrown them across the room last night. In her defense it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

//We got a job, some folks got a dead carcacha, big farm truck, you free?//

Gilda sighed. She was still exhausted, and her girlfriend was very naked, so she toyed with the idea of saying no but…

“Yeah, I’m free, gimme a few to get decent, savvy? I’ll be there in a half hour or so.”

//Gracias, Grifa, give our love to ya cariña, yeah?//

“Yeah, yeah, will do, Crank,” Gilda responded before hanging up and tossing her phone back on the bed. “Shit, well, so much for laying around all day.”

“Gotta work?”

Gilda glanced down at Sunset who was looking up at her with those beautiful teal eyes and smiling. Her hair was a messy red halo of curls that gave her a kind of after-sex bedhead look that Gilda found very tempting. Part of that attraction may have been just because Gilda had been intimately involved in getting Sunset’s hair looking like that, though.

“Yeah, some old beater died in the snow, I guess,” Gilda answered pulling her arm out from under Sunset a little reluctantly. “Gotta go bring the piece’a junk back ta life, savvy?”

“Heh, savvy,” Sunset replied, still smiling. “I think I’ll go busk at the mall again if that’s okay.”

Gilda grimaced a little but nodded. “Ya don’t need my permission, Sunshine,” she said, turning her frown into an only slightly pained smile, “just… y’know, be careful.”

“Yeah, I will,” Sunset said as she reached out and stroked Gilda’s back, chuckling a little as she traced the red lines she’d left there from the night before. Gilda hissed softly at her touch, and Sunset frowned. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Gilda just laughed and shook her head. “Ah… no, ya didn’t,” Gilda answered, blushing lightly as she got up and grabbed a shirt. “That was a, uh… different sorta sound. The kinda sound that’d lead to a few more’a those scratches if I didn’t have’ta work, savvy?”

Blushing, Sunset nodded. “O-oh, well uh… I definitely wouldn’t complain about an encore of last night…”

“Mm, don’t tempt me t’skip work, Sunflower,” Gilda growled as she pulled undergarments on. “It’ll look bad if I show up that late.”

Sitting up, Sunset stretched, humming delightedly at the short chorus of pops. She felt several different kinds of relaxed, and her only real complaint this morning was that Gilda wasn’t sticking around to cuddle with her for an hour or ten, among other potential activities. For the life of her, Sunset could not remember why she’d been so hesitant to be with Gilda like that beyond… well, just general trust issues, really. Just because she’d never had sex before then didn’t mean she was averse to it.

“It does not do to dwell,” Sunset mumbled under her breath, repeating a favorite phrase of her adoptive mother and former teacher.

Excellent advice against dwelling on the bad over the good and holding grudges that Sunset hadn’t taken to heart until recently.

Instead Sunset just watched Gilda getting ready for the day, an enticing and enjoyable experience all on its own. Watching the way her muscles rolled as she moved, the definition of her arms, back, and legs… the tensing of her neck and every part of her beautiful body. Sunset licked her lips as Gilda walked into the bathroom for a quick rinse which mostly involved cranking the hot water on, jumping in and scrubbing for half a minute while swearing viciously, and then stepping out to dry herself off.

Gilda stepped out of the shower half-clothed, her jeans on but unbuckled and bare-chested as she toweled her hair off. “I think I need a haircut, Sunshine,” Gilda mused, scratching at her pale hair. “Gettin’ kinda shaggy.”

“I think you’d look good with longer hair,” Sunset replied, smiling. “But it’d probably be a pain working under a car like that, I get it.”

“I can grow it out for a bit,” Gilda replied, grinning. “Maybe it’ll be sexy.”

Sunset batted her eyelids at Gilda and smiled. “Like you need any help with that, babe.”

Gilda stuck her tongue out at Sunset as she grabbed the rest of her outfit, pulling on a shirt, then throwing a sweater over it all before sitting onto the bed to pull on her socks and boots. As she sat down, Sunset leaned over and draped herself across Gilda’s back, nuzzling into her neck.

“Dammit, Sunshine,” Gilda growled playfully, glancing back and receiving a kiss on her nose for her trouble. “I already don’t wanna leave, babe, doin’ that ain’t fuckin’ fair.”

Before Gilda could pull away though, Sunset caught her girlfriend and pulled her into a deeper kiss, locking lips and cradling her head, running her fingers through Gilda’s hair. Gilda obliged eagerly, slipping her arms around Sunset’s bare midriff and pulling her close, trailing her fingers up Sunset’s body and earning a delighted shiver in response.

Finally freeing herself, Gilda pulled Sunset into a gentle embrace and inhaled deeply. There was something about Sunset’s scent, a faint aroma of lilacs and cherries that Gilda was pretty sure had nothing to do with her shampoo or bodywash, that put a flutter in Gilda’s heart and yet still managed to calm her down.

“I love ya, Sunflower,” Gilda whispered, kissing Sunset’s cheek as she pulled away. “And tonight you’re gonna get it for rilin’ me up like that before work, savvy?”

Sunset grinned smokily at the promise and licked her lips. “Looking forward to it, babe, now go have a good day at work and try not to get too distracted by thoughts of me naked.”

Gilda’s face contorted through several different variations of frustration before settling on defeated annoyance and nodded, laughing dryly. “I thought y’weren’t supposed to be evil anymore, Sunny, sheesh…”

Giving Sunset one more kiss goodbye, Gilda threw on her jacket and left the flat, locking up before turning to walk the short distance to the auto garage. It was freezing, worse than last night if that were even possible, and the telltale crunching Gilda’s boots were making on the ground told her that it had very briefly sleeted. The roads were probably dangerous and the lack of cars on even the slow inner city streets of the Commons were testament to how many people agreed with Gilda’s assessment.

“Some poor shit managed to fuck up their ride anyway, though,” Gilda muttered to herself as she glanced around.

There were a few people out and about but not many. It was while she was looking around, people watching in a way she never had before meeting Sunset Shimmer, that she accidentally nearly walked right over someone.

“Eep!”

Gilda lunged out, only getting a quick glance of a dark haired figure toppling over before reflex kicked in and she caught the girl she’d run into. Gilda stared down at the alarmed face of Octavia Melody who was tipped over at a neat forty-five degree angle being cradled in Gilda’s arms.

Reddening, Gilda pulled Octavia back to her feet and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry ‘bout that, guess I should watch where I’m walkin’, huh?”

“Uhm, yes,” Octavia agreed, chuckling nervously. “Ah… my apologies too, I was distracted answering a text from Vinyl… I’m usually much more conscientious but she always does know how to distract me.”

“Heh, tell me about it,” Gilda laughed, bringing a hand up to brush some of accumulating snow from her head. “Sunshine’s got my fuckin’ number, too, no joke.”

Octavia’s smile became noticeable warmer at the mention of Sunset. “How is she? She seemed… troubled when we spoke at Cuppa’s.”

“Y-yeah,” Gilda agreed, shrugging and glancing off to the side as she thought about how to answer that question. “Better, I guess? I’m pretty shit at figuring people out, though, savvy?” Gilda admitted, smiling a little wanly at Octavia. “Sunset’s got a lotta practice at keepin’ everything bottled up too, so… what the hell do I know?”

“Whatever the case, I think you’ve been good for her,” Octavia said, reaching out to put a hand on Gilda’s shoulder. “And I daresay she’s been very good for you. Time was I’d have been absolutely terrified to have even entered your proximity but…” Octavia glanced up and down Gilda, getting a raised eyebrow in response. “Well, let’s just say I can see why she finds you so fetching now, is all.”

Gilda blushed and shrugged. “I wouldn’t fuckin’ know, Cello, you’re the fancy one here not me.”

Octavia laughed; a merry, bell-chime sound that was very pretty, even to Gilda. “Cello? Really?”

“S-sorry,” Gilda apologised, waving her hand dismissively. “Nicknames stick in my idiot brain better than regular names. Besides, s’what you play, right?”

“Yes, it is, though I’m surprised you know it,” Octavia admitted a little sheepishly, “Sunset did mention it though, didn’t she?”

“I knew before,” Gilda replied with a shrug, “I was a military brat, my mom’n dad used to drag me to those boring-ass orchestras and stuff, and my mom would explain what all the different instruments were.”

“They sound like lovely people,” Octavia said brightly, “I’d love to meet them some day.”

Gilda gave a short, barren laugh. “Yeah, no ya wouldn’t, but if ya ever wanna get close you can swing by Beaucheval north of town.”

Octavia furrowed her brow for a moment, then her eyes widened in horror. “B-but, isn’t Beaucheval a military-”

“Cemetery, yeah,” Gilda replied. “Car crash, happened years ago s’don’t sweat it too much, Cello, I already came t’grips with all that shit, savvy?”

For several moments, Octavia worked her jaw trying to find words to convey… something, anything meaningful, but of all the things she imagined being behind those stark, golden eyes, that kind of tragedy wasn’t even in the same zip code. After a while, though, she found the only word that made even a glimmer of sense.

“H-how?”

Gilda raised an eyebrow at the question and shrugged again. Lifting a cigarette to her lips and lighting it, Gilda took a long drag before answering.

“Because it was that or die, savvy? Fight or die, breathe or die, run or die, live or die…” Gilda’s mind trailed back to thoughts of Sunset, “love or die.”

Tapping some of the ash out onto the snow, Gilda fixed eyes that were suddenly far more weary-looking than any girl her age should own into Octavia.

“S’not a complicated thing, y’know?” Gilda said, sighing out a breath of smoke. “In the end we all got ghosts followin’ us around, savvy? I just made peace with mine when I was a kid. ‘Sides, my parents raised a fighter, so givin’ up ain’t really my style.”

Octavia stared quietly for a while before nodding. “I find myself in the awkward position of having to apologise to you again, Gilda.”

“Huh? Why’s that?” Gilda asked, taking another short drag from her cigarette and blowing it out the side of her mouth.

“Because I only ever judged you as a delinquent and a hoodlum,” Octavia said, her face reddening with shame. “I judged you harshly and unfairly, and I’m… very sorry. I suppose I’ve learned a rather valuable lesson.”

“Books n’covers, eh?” Gilda remarked, “well, consider y’self forgiven, not like I made it hard to hit that fuckin’ conclusion, right? Anyway, good talkin’ to ya but I gotta get t’work, my boss is waitin’ on me to help kick an old beater back to life, savvy?”

Octavia nodded, smiling. “It was an enlightening conversation, Gilda, and I’m proud to call you my friend. I’ll talk to Sunset later and see how she’s doing for myself, if that’s okay?”

Gilda shrugged. “Don’t need’ta ask me, she’s ‘er own woman, Tavi. You can probably find’er at the mall somewhere buskin’ later on in the day though, savvy?”

“I’ll do that then,” Octavia replied, “have a good day at work.”

Gilda waved as she walked past Octavia and down the street. A part of her knew that the encounter was strange, at least strange for her. Time was she wouldn’t have given that girl a second thought. She’d have run her over and laughed as the scared girl scrambled away babbling apologies. Octavia was right, Sunset really had changed her. Something about having to be so gentle with Sunset all the time had just… made her rein herself in after a while. Gilda was so worried about hurting Sunset that she paid more attention to her strength than she ever used to.

“Shit, who’da thought I’d end up fallin’ in love with a good influence?” Gilda mumbled under her breath, her cheeks reddening a little as she smiled.

As she turned the corner Gilda saw the main garage was already open and ducked into it, waving at Crankshaft as she did.

“Buenos dias, Grifa,” Crank said a little more quietly when he saw the bags under Gilda’s eyes. He sipped his coffee as he handed a styrofoam cup full of the same to Gilda who took it thankfully. “Lo siento mi amiga, I know it’s early but this one’s bad. Driver spun out and hit a tree, qué lío.”

“Everyone, okay?” Gilda asked, leaning against the wall and taking a drink.

Crank nodded. “Si, they’re fine, they weren’t goin’ too fast. Truck’s a mess though, Gear’s towin’ it here now. Driver’s gettin’ a ride with a friend behind’em.”

“Savvy,” Gilda muttered draining the coffee and going back to grab more.

As she was filling her cup she heard the tow truck pull into the lot in front of the garage and another car park nearer to the lobby. Gilda walked into the back to pull on her jumpsuit, draining the cup as she did. When she came back out though, a voice hit her ears like a load of bricks.

“Wooee, thanks fer the pickup Crank, ya’ll’re lifesavers,” Applejack’s voice sent a bolt of red across Gilda’s vision.

The voice that followed it didn’t help. “You shouldn’t have been out driving in that weather in the first place, darling,” came Rarity’s more cultured tones. “Really, I don’t know what you were thinking.”

Before she could rein in her temper Gilda lashed a fist out and slammed it against the wall by the lockers, rattling them and half the garage. The talking cut off instantly and Gilda heard Crankshaft’s chair squeak as he got up from the desk and headed back.

“What’n tarnation was that?” Applejack asked from the lobby, but no answer was forthcoming.

Crankshaft came around the corner and peeked into the locker room where Gilda was sitting on the small bench, her face buried in her hands and the knuckles on her left hand bleeding. “Grifa? Estas bien, amiga?”

He sounded genuinely worried, so Gilda grit her teeth and nodded. “Y-yeah, Crank, I’m good, just… sorry.”

“Bullshit, Grifa,” Crankshaft said dryly, “You ain’t any flavor’a good, so talk.”

Gilda breathed out slowly, trying to cool her temper and only partially succeeding. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to go into the lobby and throw fists until she felt better. Except… Crank and Gear had been like family to her since she got here, even if she never realised it until recently… she couldn’t do that to them.

“Those two girls…” Gilda started, and Crankshaft instantly scowled.

“They do something to ya, Grifa?” Crank said, glancing back at the lobby. “Gear works on the Apple’s trucks now’n then, but I can tell’em to go somewhere else.”

Gilda shook her head emphatically. “Fuck no, I’m not costing you guys business, savvy? And it wasn’t me… they’re some of Sunshine’s ex-friends, ones who dumped her ass when she got framed for that shitshow at the high school.”

If Crankshaft looked annoyed before, now he looked furious. “No me jodas!? They dropped ya cariña?”

“Yeah, fuckin’ broke her heart, too, Crank,” Gilda said, her voice thick and choked. “I… Sunflower wants me to be nicer and… and she always holds me back, but I fuckin’ hate’m Crank. I can’t help it I just… I hate’m.”

“Si, no hay bronca, Grifa,” Crankshaft replied, “I’ll kick’em out and tell Gear t’take the truck up to the shop on thirty-first, yeah?”

“No!” Gilda stood suddenly, grimacing. “I toldja I’m not losin’ you guys business, we’re doin’ this fuckin’ job and I’ll suck it up, savvy? ‘Sides… gotta get used to’em eventually, I can’t just knock’em out every day at school.”

Crankshaft didn’t look happy, but he nodded. “Si, you got it Grifa, but if you want me to kick’em to the curb, I will. That girl’a yours es un cielo, and anyone who messes with her or you can take their money somewhere else.”

“T-thanks, Crank,” Gilda said, wiping at her eyes as she washed up her knuckles, hissing at the soap hitting the abraded skin before grabbing some bandages from the locker and wrapping them up. “You’re the best, y’know?”

“Si, lo sé,” Crankshaft replied with a grin before stepping out. “Alright, Grifa if we gonna do this let’s do this,” he called back as he shut the door.

Crankshaft came back out into the lobby and Gilda heard him through the walls as he started talking, his tones more noticeably clipped with irritation. “Look, señorita,” Crankshaft began, “I’ll be honest, I’d rather kick ya outta here, but I won’t.”

“W-what?” Applejack’s voice cut through in shock. “B-but we ain’t never been nothin’ but good customers, Crank! Why’d ya even think’a doin’ somethin’ like that?”

“I have to agree,” Rarity joined in. “Making threats is no way to run a business of any kind!”

“Ain’t makin’ threats,” Crank replied, “I just don’t like people like you, that’s all.”

“B-but-!”

“Stop givin’em shit, Crank,” Gilda said finally stepping out of the garage and into the lobby with irritation painted across her features. “I said I don’t care, so let’s just leave it the fuck alone and get to fuckin’ work, savvy?”

Rarity and Applejack both paled as their eyes met Gilda’s, Applejack especially. The farmgirl was clad in a heavy brown snow jacket, snow pants and galoshes, while Rarity was dressed to the nines in winter fashion in a calf-length, long-sleeved coat and matching mittens. Both of them noticed the jumpsuit and Gilda’s infamous sobriquet stitched onto the corner.

“Grifa,” Rarity’s accent mangled the word a little as she shook her head and smiled a little despondently. “Of course, Griffon, as in Gilda the Griffon. I suppose that explains the suddenly chilly reception.”

Shrugging, Crankshaft turned back towards Gilda. “I’m gonna get the truck over the pit, Grifa, you finish the ring-up.”

“Yeah, no problem, Crank,” Gilda replied as she moved around the desk and dropped into the seat.

Fortunately, the register consisted mostly of just a ten-key and a till, Gilda knew where the numbers were supposed to be on the machine so she could just hit the pattern without her stupid brain mixing the numbers on the buttons up. The only problem was…

Glancing down at the paperwork, Gilda scowled as she parsed the numbers. She knew just about how much it would cost, so she hoped she wouldn’t screw up the price too bad. Scanning the bottom line, Gilda moved her mouth silently as she tried reading one number at a time to make sure she didn’t mismatch the values.

“A-are you alright, Miss Grimfeather?” Rarity asked a little unsteadily. “You look-”

“I’m tired and I’m trying to read this fuckin’ thing, a’right?” Gilda bit out, cutting her off. “You bein’ here is bad enough without this headache.”

Rarity and Applejack share a glance before the pale girl spoke up again. “U-uhm, are you, ah… do you have trouble reading? I understand literacy is-”

You’re not illiterate, or stupid, okay?

“I ain’t fuckin’ illiterate!” Gilda snarled as she slammed her fist onto the desk, making the two of them jump back. Part of her knew she was saying it for herself, as much as for them. “I… I’m… Sunshine says I’m dyslexic, or somethin’, words are just a fuckin’ scramble f’me. So lay off, or I’ll tell Crank I changed my mind about workin’ on the truck, savvy?”

Silence fell heavily over the lobby as Gilda finished punching in the number and hit the green button that would print out the quote sheet. She leaned back and glanced through the window that looked out over the garage and watched Crank and Gear bringing the truck in. It wasn’t in the worst shape, mostly bodywork. It was an old truck but that meant it was sturdy, she’d be surprised if there was much real internal damage.

Grabbing the printed sheet, she tore it free and handed it over. “Figure it’ll be done by tonight at the latest, probably this afternoon though, savvy?”

“Y-yeah,” Applejack replied, taking the quote and glancing it over, a little surprised they were still charging her the same rate. “Hey… Gilda, uhm… thanks, y’know? Ya’ll coulda kicked me outta here and my family woulda been in a bind since most places are a lot more expensive, so… thanks.”

Gilda leaned back in the chair and glared at Applejack. “You wanna thank someone, Hoedown? Thank the girl you left cryin’ the hallway, savvy? Because she’s the reason I’m not kickin’ you out.”

“Believe me, darling,” Rarity said, keeping herself together impressively at that jab. “There are very few things we want more than to speak with Sunset… about a number of matters.”

“Ah kept mah word, Gilda,” Applejack said, tucking the paper away in her pocket. “We’ll leave’r alone, just like ya asked, okay?”

“C-can you tell us how she is, though, at least?” Rarity asked, her voice pleading as she stepped past Applejack, “Please, we’re all worried, I know we don’t have any right to ask or seek her out but… please.”

Gilda wanted to tell them to fuck off, she really, really did. She hadn’t been exaggerating to Crankshaft when she said she hated them. Just looking at them made her want to take a swing, but every time she considered it a part of her saw the look that would be on Sunset’s face when she found out.

“She’s better,” Gilda finally answered, staring blankly ahead. “Still pretty fucked up, though. Cries a lot, gets mad, and we get inta fights about it sometimes but she always calms down. You guys did a fuckin’ number on her, savvy?”

“I… I see,” Rarity replied after a moment. “Excuse me…” she turned on her heel and walked quickly out of the lobby and into the snow.

Applejack grimaced, nodding at Gilda. “Yeah, can’t say Ah blame’r, so… gotta ask too, the wheelchair?”

“Permanent,” Gilda said sharply, and Applejack winced, she’d all but known what the answer would be but hearing it out loud stung. “Not your fault, though, strictly speakin’. That said, accident or not, I’m still gonna fuck up the Diamond Dogs if they ever show their faces to me again.”

“Can’t say Ah blame ya on that,” Applejack replied grimly. “Ya’ll need an extra hand if it comes down to it, lemme know.”

Turning towards the door, Applejack started to leave but stopped as her hand came to rest on the handle. “Hey Gilda, didn’t have a chance t’ask back at the hospital but, you’n Sunset… are ya’ll-?”

“Not that it’s any’a yer fuckin’ business, Hoedown, but… yeah, we’re together,” Gilda answered evenly. “She’s my whole goddamn world, savvy? And I’ll put anything that threatens her in the fuckin’ ground.”

Applejack met Gilda’s gaze and nodded. “Yeah, honestly, Ah…” she let out a slow breath and looked out the glass pane door at Rarity who was carefully wiping at her eyes with a kerchief. “Ah think ah’m startin’ t’figure out ‘xactly how ya feel.”

Gilda glanced out the door, then back to Applejack, then back to Rarity. “Huh, well, I can’t say shit, I’m a friggin’ thug and I managed to get with the prettiest girl in the goddamn school.”

“We ain’t exactly an item, Gilda,” Applejack said, shifting uncomfortably.

“Not interested?” Gilda asked, smirking. “Shit luck, then.”

Applejack shook her head. “Nah, well, maybe… haven’t asked.”

Furrowing her brow, Gilda snorted and waved a hand. “Well, why the hell not?”

“Maybe ‘cause Ah ain’t like you, Gilda!” Applejack snarled back. “Maybe Ah ain’t brave enough t’risk a ‘no’ to mah face, or take the risk’a ruinin’ another friendship! Why the hell d’ya’ll even care anyhow?!”

Gilda crossed her arms and scowled. Why did she care? Admittedly, of all the girls, she probably hated Applejack the least. The stout farmgirl had been the first to own up to her mistakes, she’d been honest, apologetic, and kept to her word even when it was clear she wanted to talk to Sunset as bad as, if not worse, than any of the others. Gilda didn’t like Applejack, necessarily, there was too much bad blood between Sunset and the Rainbooms for that, but she… respected her.

“Dunno, Hoedown,” Gilda said finally, “I guess I don’t really care, but if you want some advice? Go tell’er how ya fuckin’ feel already. I figure if you’n her are better friends t’each other than ya were to Sunshine she’ll either take ya up on it or let ya down easy, savvy? That is, unless you wanna go to y’grave with another regret.”

Applejack stared at Gilda for several seconds with wide eyes, but eventually nodded silently and turned to leave. Gilda just shook her head as she watched Applejack exit the lobby, and turned to go through the back door into the garage.

‘Sunny really is gettin’ to me,’ Gilda mused as she grabbed a red toolbox from the shelf and walked towards the beat up Apple family truck. ‘Now I’m givin’ fuckin’ relationship advice…’

Applejack walked out of the Ponyville auto garage lobby feeling… nervous. Extremely nervous. Of all the people to give her the pep talk she had apparently needed, Gilda hadn’t been anywhere near the top of the list, but Applejack had to admit that the girl she had originally considered little more than a bully and a thug was turning out to have a lot more to her than she had thought.

Rarity was standing by the curb. She had removed her gloves and tucked them away and begun gently dabbing at her eyes to avoid smearing her mascara.

“I’m sorry about leaving you like that, darling,” she began, her voice steady, but Applejack could see the effort she was putting in to keep it that way. “I suppose I could be handling all of this better than I am, but… I’m not quite sure how.”

“Yeah well, we all probably coulda handled a lotta things better than we did, sugarcube,” Applejack replied somberly. “If it’s worth anythin’, Ah don’t think ya’ll’re takin’ it any worse’n any’a the other gals.”

“You’re too kind, really,” Rarity said softly, her eyes tilted to stare at the gathering snow as they began walking back to her car. “I’m certainly well behind you in terms of handling things, at least. It’s a bit humiliating since I pride myself on keeping a stiff upper lip, but… this business with Sunset hits too close to home for me.”

Applejack just nodded as they reached the small vehicle and stepped forward, pulling Rarity into a hug that the prim and proper girl readily returned. “Ah know, sugarcube, and the best we gotta go on right know is knowin’ she’s bein’ taken care of, and that she’s gettin’ better.”

“But I want to help her,” Rarity pleaded in a slightly muffled voice, with her face buried against Applejack’s collar. “I want to be a part of it, I want to make things right!”

“And if Sunset gives us the opportunity then believe me, Ah’ll be the first in line at that rodeo,” Applejack promised. “And Ah’ll save ya’ll a spot right with me, but it’s gotta be her choice. Forcin’ the matter ain’t gonna give us nothin’ but grief, y’hear?”

Rarity nodded silently against Applejack’s chest and let out a soft sob. “I just… I can barely sleep, I’ve got no appetite, and I just feel so horrible, so awful, all the time. I can’t even look at my little sister without…”

“Yeah, Ah know,” Appeljack replied quietly. “Everytime Ah look at Applebloom all Ah can see is Sunset, sittin’ in the middle’a the hall and sobbin’ her dang heart out. Ah can’t even look at mah own kin without feelin’ a powerful rage.” Applejack grit her teeth so hard that Rarity looked up in alarm.

The normally unflappable farmer was clenching her eyes shut as tears leaked from the corners, her face was twisted in pain, agony even, and slowly, her whole body started to shake.

“Ah… ah wanna blame’r for everythin’ that happened!” Applejack sobbed raggedly. “Fer ruinin’ the school, fer destroyin’ mah friendship with Sunset… Ah just… Ah don’t wanna hate mah family, Rares, I don’t wanna hate mah baby sister…”

Applejack cried out wordlessly as she buried her face against Rarity’s royal purple locks and broke down. Her cries were quiet, muffled, almost choked as if some fundamental part of Applejack was violently resisting her, trying to keep the enormous sorrow and anger that had built up over the weeks contained in its narrow-necked bottle.

“Oh… darling, why didn’t you say anything?” Rarity pleaded, as she gripped Applejack tightly. “You shouldn’t have to face this alone, we’re all here for you! You’ve been our rock through all of this, even… even when I was shouting at you and… oh, Jackie, I’m so sorry!”

“S’not your fault, Rares,” Applejack replied, her voice broken and barely coherent through the thick, sobbing cries. “Ah made mah choice an’ Ah knew ya’ll’d hate it, but it’s what had ta happen… Ah knew what Ah was buyin’ into when Ah made that deal with Gilda, sugarcube.”

“But it shouldn’t have happened!” Rarity retorted almost angrily. “You did the right thing, Applejack. If I haven’t said it yet then I’ll swallow my pride and say it now: I was wrong, and you were right! I had no right to get angry and take my frustrations out on you! Okay?”

Applejack’s sniffles became a little more controlled as she nodded, still resting her head against Rarity’s as she came to grips with herself again. The farmgirl’s emotions were like a summer storm trapped in a bottle, powerful and raging and appearing seemingly from nowhere the moment the smallest crack appears.

Doing her best to put on a brave face, Rarity glanced up at Applejack, staring into those gorgeous, candy-apple green eyes that were glistening brightly with tears. Guileless, honest, and beautiful, those were all words that had always described Applejack in Rarity’s mind. There was something about the eldest Apple daughter’s untamed nature, her simple and efficient no-nonsense approach to life and all of its trials that Rarity found herself in desperate envy of.

No matter what happened, Applejack would always remain true and honest to herself, even in the worst of situations. Something Rarity couldn’t honestly say about her own self.

Rarity was so lost in thought, in fact, that she was caught completely off guard when Applejack leaned in and pressed her lips against Rarity’s in a kind of gentle, whisper-soft kiss that Rarity hadn’t suspected Applejack was even capable of.

Colors exploded behind her eyes as Rarity reflexively leaned into the kiss, letting her body melt against Applejack’s in a way that felt so natural and so right. Rarity loved every second of it. She loved the way Applejack gently held her, one hand on her hip and the other at the small of her back. She loved the faint flavor of sour apples she tasted on Applejack’s lips.

It was everything she’d ever imagined.

As the two girls pulled away from each other, Applejack blushed furiously and pulled her hat down over her eyes. “A-Ah dangit, Ah’m powerful sorry ‘bout that, sugarcube,” Applejack mumbled, looking away. “Ah just… Ah was lookin’ atcha and… ya’ll’re just so dang pretty and…-”

Rarity stopped Applejack’s cascade of apologies with a single pale finger on her sun-kissed lips.

“Jacqueline Apple, don’t you dare apologise for that kiss,” Rarity said in an even and completely iron-clad tone. “Because I’ve been waiting for you to do that since our Sophomore year.”

Applejack blinked in stunned silence as Rarity kept her fiery blue gaze fixed firmly on Applejack’s eyes. There was no controlling the blooming blush on her cheeks, but that was another matter. “W-Wut?”

Sighing, Rarity blushed harder and finally broke the staring contest. “Are you really going to make me say it, darling?” Rarity huffed. “I… I’ve had feelings for you for some time now, alright?”

“R-really? Me?” Applejack asked, pointing to herself and staring in disbelief. “B-but… Ah’m just… Ah’m… why?!”

Rarity shuffled her feet slightly in embarrassment. “W-well, entirely aside from your adorable accent and the admittedly shallow thing I have for cowboys, er, cowgirls I suppose… you’re also one of my best friends Applejack,” Rarity leaned up to lightly kiss Applejack, forestalling any protests. “But more than that, you’re… stable. My whole world is chaos, darling, good and bad. Such is the life of an artist, after all, being at the mercy of our muses who are generally fickle and possessed of very short attention spans.”

“Well, Ah ain’t gonna lie,” Applejack replied, chuckling slightly. “Ya’ll can get pretty crazy when yer in one’a yer creative-type moods.”

“Exactly!” Rarity exclaimed, leaning forward and pressing herself against Applejack. “And I… I get swept up so easily that sometimes I wish… I wish I had someone who could keep me grounded, darling. My art lets me fly but I have to land eventually.” Nestling herself against Applejack, Rarity let out a soft sigh. “And you’re always right where I left you, always ready to listen, to give advice, to keep my head on straight… Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rainbow? Bless them but they’re hardly the most stable of our friends, am I wrong?”

“Uh, yeah that’s fair enough,” Applejack answered, bringing her hands up and around Rarity.

Rarity giggled softly and nodded. “It’s why I never confided my feelings to them, I knew they’d get far too excited and the jig would be up, as they say. In fact, the only person I ever told was-”

Silence descended like a hammer as Rarity froze stiff in Applejack’s arms, all warmth from her previous mood had fled like a coldsnap. Applejack frowned and hugged Rarity tighter as she started to shake silently.

“Rares? What’s wrong, sugarcube?” Applejack asked, feeling a chill of worry climb up her neck. “Ya’ll alright?”

Rarity shook her head violently, scattering her perfectly coiffed curls.

“W-well, ya’ll wanna talk about it?”

Another shake of her head. Applejack sighed, she knew Rarity well enough to know when she was in a bad state of mind and this was bad. Carefully she guided Rarity around to put her in the passenger's seat of her little hatchback. Applejack got into the driver’s seat, scooted over near the middle, and put her arm around Rarity’s shoulder.

Several minutes passed before Rarity spoke again and when she did, it was a whisper. “I… I should have known all along that Sunset wasn’t Anon-A-Miss…”

“We all shoulda known, sugarcube,” Applejack replied grimly. “Pretty sure we all agree on that much.”

Rarity shook her head. “No, you misunderstand, I should have known. Not suspected, or sided with her, I mean I should have known. I… I all but had proof of it.”

Applejack furrowed her brow. “How’dya figure that, Rares?”

“I never told Sweetie Belle about my feelings for you,” Rarity began. “It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her, though I now realise I shouldn’t… but simply because she spent so much time with Apple Bloom and I didn’t want to burden her with keeping a secret from her friend. And besides, it wasn’t her business anyway.”

“Yeah, alright,” Applejack agreed, nodding and waiting for the other shoe to drop. “So Sweetie Belle didn’t know, which is why yer feelin’s bout me never got aired out along with everyone else's dirty laundry, but why-?”

“Because the one person I did tell was Sunset Shimmer,” Rarity said, her voice ragged and harsh. “Sunset and I have a lot in common in that we can both be incorrigible gossips, but know quite well how to keep secrets, darling. Her poker face is probably better than mine and I think a part of me was hoping for some support from her in, ah, catching you, as it were.”

“T-then if she knew how ya’ll felt…” Applejack started, finally catching onto Rarity’s train of thought. “If she really was Anon-A-Miss, then…”

“Then why wouldn’t she have published my secret?” Rarity ask rhetorically. “Anon-A-Miss had published far worse by the end, so there was no reason for that not to be published too unless… unless Anon-A-Miss didn’t know.”

“Right,” Applejack said, in a hollow voice. “Sunset knew ‘cause ya’ll told’er, so… damn it… Ah see whatcha mean.”

Rarity nodded. “Had I taken a moment to think, just a single moment where I wasn’t wrapped in self-righteous anger, I would have realised that the one secret that only Sunset knew was the one secret that had never been aired out,” she said softly. “I… may have still had my initial reaction but it should have tipped me off, at least, but I was just so… so angry that I wasn’t thinking.”

“Yeah,” Applejack nodded, leaning her cheek against Rarity’s soft, purple hair. “None’a us were thinkin’ straight, ah reckon. Not that that’s an excuse.”

“It’s not,” Rarity agreed. “But apparently I’m far guiltier than the rest of you girls regarding Sunset’s suffering.”

“T’ain’t like that, sugarcube,” Applejack said sternly, and Rarity began to protest but Applejack silenced her with a quick peck on the lips. “Don’t argue, just listen, alright? It don’t matter if ya’ll had more’re less reason than the rest’a us, ‘cause it ain’t no slidin’ scale’a guilt! Fact is: not a one of us shoulda abandoned Sunset like we did. Reason ain’t got nothin’ to do with it, y’hear? Whether or not y’knew a thing don’t make a lick’a difference, Rares, ‘cause none of us shoulda done it in the first place!”

Rarity just stared, hiccuping slightly and sniffling as she nodded. Applejack took a deep breath and pulled Rarity close, running her fingers through the prim girl’s now-messy purple locks.

“Ah get it, Rares,” Appejack said softly, all the fervor from her voice gone. “Believe me, whatever yer feelin’ ain’t got nothin’ on bein’ the supposed ‘Element’a Honesty’ who can’t even tell when’er own sister is lyin’ t’her face. We all got lotsa reasons why we shoulda known better, so don’t go beatin’ yerself up over havin’ an extra one. Just another drop in the bucket, y’hear?”

Nodding, Rarity let out a shuddering breath and gripped tightly to Applejack. After a moment, she looked up, leaned in, and pressed her lips firmly to the farmgirl’s, looping her hands up to tangle her fingers into Applejack's loose, messy, blonde hair.

Pulling away, Rarity grinned up at Applejack and traced a finger down her chest. “Did I mention one of the things I admired about you was that you keep me grounded, darling?”

“Mighta done, yeah,” Applejack replied with a laugh.

“So… what do we do, darling?” Rarity asked somberly.

Applejack shrugged. “Dunno, sugarcube… Ah made a promise and Ah ain’t fixin’ to break it, but it don’t sit right with me just waitin’ for the world to turn the right way and drop the answer in our laps.”

“I must say, I agree,” Rarity replied, then pulled out her phone and opened up a group chat. “Let’s get the girls together, maybe it’s time we really put that ‘friendship’ matter to work and see if we can’t at least make up some of the debt we’ve brought down on ourselves.”

Sunset Shimmer rolled down the walkway towards the Emporium’s largest entrance, her guitar strapped to the back of her wheelchair. It was closing in on noon and she was getting hungry. Fortunately, Sunset still had some of the money left over from when she was busking a few days back. Intellectually, she knew she should save it. She only had a few hundred dollars in her account, and even though government assistance meant her and Gilda’s flat was essentially paid for, it didn’t mean they wouldn’t have bills.

Plus, until they had some kind of paperwork proving otherwise, Sunset couldn’t even get a job, much less get on a lease. She had to help contribute somehow, and if busking was how then…

“Maybe I can start offering tutoring or something,” Sunset mused quietly. “It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever had…”

‘No, that would have to go to the: Jam A Legendary Magical Crown On My Head plan.’ Sunset thought wryly as she rolled up herself to the side and took up a spot near the hedge and hit her brake lever. ‘For someone who makes pretty decent plans most of the time, that was a pretty bad one.’

Sunset was startled out of her thoughts by the buzzing of her phone. Pulling it out she swept through the password screen, smiling almost reflexively as she put in her girlfriend’s name. Sunset was half expecting to see that Gilda had messaged her, so she was a bit surprised to see the name on the contact was Penny.

Penny: //You gon be at the mall today at all?//

Grinning, Sunset tapped out her answer. Trying not to feel too giddy at having been messaged by her new friend.

Sunset: //Already am, slowpoke, probably be busking near the food court if there’s a good spot open.//

Penny: //Sweet! Helden’s busy and I’m super bored, save me a spot!//

A spot? It’s not like Sunset could control the size of the crowd. Shaking her head and smiling, Sunset just typed her reply.

Sunset: //I’ll do my best, see ya soon Penny.//

Penny: //Yeet//

Chuckling, Sunset tucked her phone back in her pocket and pulled out a cigarette. Lighting it, Sunset tucked it between her lips and took a deep breath, feeling her whole body relax a little at the comforting flavor and heat of the smoke. For a moment, Sunset let her mind drift to nowhere in particular.

Ever since last night the world had felt… disconnected. Ever since she let the transition take her legs away forever. It wasn’t something that necessarily bothered her; maybe it was just the nearness of the event, maybe she just didn’t have the perspective to regret her decision yet, but Sunset liked to think it was because it was the right thing to do. She had meant every word she said to Gilda that night, too. She didn’t want to leave all her unfinished business on this world to just… be. To moulder and rot.

Sunset wanted to resolve it, even though she knew it would be hard.

Still, she had no clue where to start. The thought of talking to the girls, the Rainbooms, left Sunset’s gut doing backflips, the Diamond Dogs had already been expelled, and then there was Hoops, Score and Dumbbell, only one of which she had a grudge against. According to Gilda, she had Hoops to thank for Gilda finding her, so Sunset made a mental note to thank him personally when school started again.

Other than that, she was back to drifting. Sunset took another drag as she considered where she was; like Adagio said, she needed time to stick her landing.

“Legs notwithstanding, or even regular standing,” Sunset mumbled, chuckling to herself at her awful joke, “I’m really not doing too badly… got a place to live, a wonderful girlfriend, some good friends… all-in-all, it could be a lot worse.”

The question now was… where did she go from here?

“What’s next for Sunset Shimmer?” Sunset asked softly and, as she did, a thought struck her. “Why not talk to a friend about it?”

Putting out the cigarette, Sunset knocked her brake back to the off position and started rolling into the mall. It was busy, as usual for the holiday season. Packs of people roved around, talking and gawking as they window shopped for gifts. A part of Sunset felt a faint pang of nostalgia and sorrow; she had been looking forward to doing exactly that activity with the girls, they’d even made plans to, before the mess with Anon-A-Miss.

Sunset still didn’t regret what happened; if it hadn’t, she wouldn’t be with the girl she loved, but it still hurt. There was a space in her heart that the Rainbooms had occupied, a place for Pinkie’s parties, pranks, and jokes that always cheered her up. A place for the impromptu competitions she and Rainbow would get into, from soccer to who could put away the most Lo Mein noodles. The place for the honest and straightforward conversations she would have with Applejack, and the witty, urbane ones shared with Rarity. A place for the quiet, peaceful moments with Fluttershy.

Those empty spaces still ached terribly, but if Twilight had imparted anything to her it was that true friends were always there for you. Gilda would always be there for her, Sunset knew that like she knew the sun would rise. Gilda wasn’t just her girlfriend, or her lover, Gilda was Sunset’s best friend too.

“Probably why mom wants me to marry her,” Sunset mumbled, her cheeks reddening furiously at the thought. “Stupid Princess authority, mom could’ve at least warned Gilda.”

There was another thing, if Anon-A-Miss had never happened then Sunset would never have been forced into a meeting with her adoptive mother. She probably would have just kept making excuses to stay in the human world, surrounded by her ‘friends’ while avoiding the painful, heart-wrenching confrontation she knew she would eventually have to have with Princess Celestia.

Even knowing the Princess had never blamed her, that she had forgiven Sunset, and having a constantly open portal to speak to her at any time, Sunset knew she wouldn’t have. Not easily, and certainly not without a lot tears and heartache. It would have taken a lot of pushing and probably a lot more time.

Further proof that she had made the correct decision, Sunset knew she would’ve done exactly the same thing if she’d skipped over to Equestria, regarding the unresolved mess with Anon-A-Miss.

Now, though? Sunset had shed her tears, told her mother that she loved her, and been held in her mother’s arms for the first time in years while she cried her eyes out and apologised for everything. Now Sunset had finally unburdened herself of the weight she’d been carrying around. Not that she didn’t still have issues with her mom, but that was nothing a few years (or decades) of therapy couldn’t help with.

Yet another reason Sunset knew she needed to start existing officially.

Rolling to near the central axis of the mall, Sunset began the long and frustrating wait for the lift. As per usual, there were about a dozen people in line. She still wanted to run over whoever it was that designed this place for accessibility.

“I cannot fathom the sort of being,” Sunset mused aloud in dry irritation, “that could possibly have looked at this mall and said to themselves: yes, I meant to do that.”

“I’ve said the exact same thing about the human race for centuries, Red,” came a caustic voice from behind Sunset.

Turning her head, Sunset stared up at a face that was both familiar and not. Aria Blaze, the middle sister of the Sirens, stood just behind Sunset’s chair staring down at her. She had changed greatly since Sunset had seen Aria last; she’d put on muscle, and was lean, wiry, and compact. Aria’s hair was cut to a short bob tapering to a widows peak at her forehead, but the cynical smirk that always seemed to exist in her eyes even when it wasn’t on her face was still the same. She wore a black muscle shirt with a black leather jacket and heavy cargo pants. On her feet were a pair of knee-high shit-kickers with far too many buckles and spikes to be reasonable.

“Y’know, when ‘Dagi told me the state you were in I barely believed it,” Aria continued, moving up to grab the handles of Sunset’s chair and pushed her forward through the line. A few protested but were silenced by a single wicked glare from the girl. Sunset herself was too stunned to bother. “Here you are though, in all your stumpy glory.”

“I don’t exactly need you to remind me of that,” Sunset bit out after a moment as they stopped at the front of the line with a number of heated glares following them, mostly pinned to Aria’s back. “Pretty sure I’ve got all the reminder I’ll ever need.”

“Gotta say, Red, I’m disappointed,” Aria said, still talking as if Sunset hadn’t spoken. “The one who handed us our first real defeat since Starswirl of the Bells got owned by a bunch of numpty nobodies?”

“I didn’t get ‘owned’,” Sunset retorted as the lift door opened and a flood of people left. “The fight… got out of hand. One of the Dogs slammed into the staircase attached to the warehouse I was living in too hard, jostled the last few supports loose and… turns out a few hundred pounds of steel girders don’t play well with squishy human bodies.”

“Living in a warehouse?” Aria asked, her voice suddenly losing a great deal of its acidic tone. She pushed Sunset into the cab of the lift, there wasn’t room for anyone else. “Really? Even with all your pastel loser friends?”

Sunset nodded, she was done being too proud, and certainly done being ashamed. “Yeah, because I didn’t have my magic trapped in a little red gem to give me all the comforts and money I could want,” whatever acid had left Aria’s tone had found a new home in Sunset’s voice. “I was back to being little orphan Sunset on the streets of Canterlot, scraping and stealing to survive; sleeping in dark places, or high places, and always cold, disgusting places.”

“No shelters?” Aria asked softly as the lift slowly rose up to the third floor.

“They were full, most of the time anyway,” Sunset replied. “End of the day, there were just too many of us. At least I usually had one meal a day, but… it was up to me to keep myself safe.”

Aria was quiet as the door let out a cheery ding and opened, the crowd in front of the lift parted enough for Aria to push Sunset out and onto the tiles of the mall walkway.

“Did you?” Aria finally asked.

Sunset raised an eyebrow as she looked up at Aria. “Did I what?”

“Keep yourself safe?”

Sunset was silent for several minutes as she stared out over the sea of people. “Most of the time, yeah,” she answered, finally. “I have a scar on my arm from where I was stabbed, I have a chipped tooth from where I fell fifteen feet and landed badly while I was running away from some muggers.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Aria replied, “but I figure there’s more.”

Silence stretched out for what felt like days as Sunset stared down at her hands as her memory carefully crept back to that place in the dark where she put all of things she wanted to forget about. A numbness slid into her soul that Sunset didn’t like at all, it was cold and ugly and slimy.

Closing her eyes, Sunset scowled. “I have a stain on my hands I can’t ever seem to get rid of, and that’s all I’ll say about that.”

Aria eye’d Sunset for a minute before nodding. “Fair enough, Red.”

“Not going to tell me to talk about it?” Sunset asked skeptically.

“Nope, not really my business, figure it’ll air itself out eventually,” Aria replied with a sneer as she pushed Sunset towards Koi Sushi.

“Do I get a say in going in there?” Sunset asked in a tone of bored annoyance, not willing to admit she was heading exactly there in the first place before Aria had hijacked her wheelchair.

“Not really,” Aria answered.

The little restaurant was bustling with the lunchtime crowd, and servers were bobbing in between the tables expertly with platters of sushi or plates of appetizers. They moved quickly out of the way as Sunset was wheeled in and most of them greeted Aria by name. To Sunset’s surprise, Aria responded in kind, her normally bellicose features softening as she spoke easily with the wait staff.

They made their way back to the table Sunset, Gilda, and Adagio had sat at last time; Sunset suspected it was their usual table. Considering its position away from the majority of the crowds and tucked away from easy view, Sunset couldn’t deny she preferred it. Sitting at the table was Adagio, who was dressed in normal clothes, rather than her waitress apron and skirt. Her enormous poof of hair was tied back with a pretty bow, and she was wearing a festive red sweater that read: Ho, Ho, Leave me Alone, in curling gold letters.

“Nice shirt,” Sunset said, chuckling as Aria pushed her to the table. Adagio raised an eyebrow at Sunset and then up at Aria who gave a smirk in response.

“An early christmas gift from Sonata,” Adagio said after a moment. “Normally I abhor sweaters but something about this one actually appealed to me.”

“Gee, I wonder why that is,” Aria deadpanned back as she took her own seat.

Sunset laughed quietly as the two sisters bantered back and forth. Back during the events of the Battle of the Bands, Sunset had witnessed their exchanges but always as simple bickering. They sniped and undermined each other, with only Adagio’s force of personality and sharp tongue keeping the other two in check. Now, though, there was an ease to them, something in their relaxed posture, the set of their shoulders, that made them almost seem like different people.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Shimmer?” Adagio asked, turning away from Aria. “Sonata is currently passed out at home after binging through two straight seasons of some t.v. Show or other, so it will just be us.”

“I… guess I just wanted to talk to a friend,” Sunset said, smiling softly at Adagio who wore a look of surprise that quickly morphed to a more gentle one. “A lot has happened since we talked, even though it hasn’t been all that long.”

“Four days is hardly a great distance of time,” Adagio remarked in agreement, “but I’m glad to hear you’ve made some progress already, want to fill me in?”

“Sure, so… I guess it all really started a few days after I was injured,” Sunset began. “Twilight told me about a, uh, quirk of the portal when she came to visit me in my hospital room…”

As Sunset finished catching up her two former enemies on her life, both Aria and Adagio stared at her in shock. The silence stretched out to the point that Sunset was left chuckling uneasily and waved a hand in front of the two of them.

“Uh, Earth to the Siren sisters, you two okay in there?” Sunset asked with a nervous laugh.

Adagio shook her head slowly in disbelief. “Wait, so… you’re telling me that… you willingly gave up the opportunity to have both your legs and your magic back? Forever?”

“Well, yes and no,” Sunset replied, grimacing. “My magic is still a thing if I go back through the portal, nothing can take that away.”

“But your legs,” Aria insisted, “you could’ve just… had them back!”

“And left everything else behind!” Sunset countered. “I already went over this with Gilda, savvy? I have friends here! I have a life! It’s not… not great, but it’s mine! If I have to sacrifice… this,” Sunset gestured to her legs, “to not live the rest of my life wondering ‘what if’ and knowing I left every friend I ever made in the human world behind, I’ll do it! I’m… I’m tired of regretting things and I’m sick to death of running away!”

Aria and Adagio sat back, looking thoughtful and not a little shell-shocked by Sunset’s decision. Even the normally unflappable Adagio looked like she was set back on her heels at the idea of Sunset’s choice. Taking a small chance, Sunset reached out and grasped Adagio’s hand, drawing a startled jerk of surprise from the girl.

“I’ve finally started to make friends for myself, ‘Dagi,” Sunset said, “and you’re one of them. I didn’t want to leave Gilda, but even if she came with me I’d be leaving everything else and everyone else behind.” Letting out a shaky breath, Sunset braced herself. “I want to be your friend ‘Dagi, and yours too Aria,” Sunset continued. “I want to sit down, eat sushi, talk and laugh and bullshit around for a long time with you… I want people who will understand me, not just tolerate me.”

“Ari’,” Aria said quietly, drawing a look from both Adagio and Sunset. “Call me Ari’, it’s what ‘Nata and ‘Dagi call me.”

Sunset grinned wide and for the first time since she woke up that morning felt like her world was starting to orient itself. “Ari’, I like it, it’s kinda cute.”

Aria smirked as she mock-punched Sunset in the shoulder. “Better than Valkyrie, it’s what my manager decided my ‘stage name’ should be in the ring.”

“Seems kinda edgelord-y,” Sunset remarked with a grin.

“It wasn’t my idea, Red,” Aria shot back with a smirk. “Believe me I bitched from here to Elysium about it after the first round but there was nothing doin’, my manager says it’s Valkyrie or nothing.”

Sunset laughed, it was both comforting and nostalgic to hear familiar oaths and curses from her home. It reminded her she wasn’t completely alone, even as an Equestrian.

“I’m shocked you actually let it go, Ari’,” Sunset responded. “Figured you’d have just kept ranting until you lost your temper and punched him.”

Aria’s cheeks reddened, much to Sunset’s surprise. “He’s a weedy kinda guy, one punch from me and he’d be in the hospital.”

Adagio leaned over to Sunset wearing a villainous smirk. “My dear sister always did have a thing for boys she could push around and bully, especially if they’re smaller than her,” she said in an easily audible stage whisper.

“Hey!” Aria barked, her face going beet red. “Don’t give me that! Your reputation is way worse than mine!”

“Worse?” Adagio asked, grinning toothily, “or better?”

There was a loud thump as Aria’s forehead hit the table and she groaned loudly in defeat. Sunset was shaking with silent laughter, her hand covering her mouth as Adagio relentlessly needled her sister.

Food arrived a few moments later, and the three girls spent lunch split between eating and chatting aimlessly about nothing in particular, and for the first time in a long time Sunset felt truly at ease. It wasn’t the drunken delirium of happy endorphins that she got from Gilda, nor was it the high-strung stress of just being out and about. It was just… normal. For the first time since the accident Sunset was starting to feel normal again. As she popped a salmon roll into her mouth and hummed in delight at the flavor, it occurred to Sunset that even when she’d been with the girls before the whole mess with Anon-A-Miss, she had never felt this… at home.

It had always felt like there was a small but noticeable division between her and the Rainbooms. Something that told Sunset she was invited but not quite welcome.

Almost, but… not quite.

Maybe it was the slight delay in the banter every time Sunset spoke, or the sense that Sunset’s preferences came through as an afterthought rather than an initial consideration like all the others, like she was always right on the edge of being forgotten about.

Whatever it was, it didn’t exist here. Here, with Aria and Adagio, in the little sushi parlour on the third floor of the Crystal Emporium, Sunset felt like she was a part of something.

“Are you two sticking around for awhile?” Sunset asked as she sipped at the bitter and refreshing oolong tea she’d ordered. Adagio was nursing a hot green tea while Aria was drinking a surprisingly light herbal white tea. “I’m going to be busking this afternoon,” Sunset patted her guitar.

“Was plannin’ on just heading home after this, but I wouldn’t mind watching a free performance, Red,” Aria responded, “How ‘bout it ‘Dagi?”

“Considering the last time we heard you perform you were knocking us on our literal and metaphysical flanks?” Adagio said dryly, drawing a nervous chuckle from Sunset. “Sure, I think I’d like to actually have a chance to enjoy your music.”

The arcades, where Sunset had played for the first time, was honestly her favorite part of the mall. It was a place where the efforts at beautification of the space had been put on full display. Long, intersecting hallways with high arches decorated with plaster ivy led into wide, open lounging areas surrounded by shops. They were a favorite place of buskers and attracted sizable crowds even during the later hours of the evening. The small shops and in-mall cafes did brisk business at almost all times of day and the bohemian environment was one that Sunset relished.

After leaving Koi’s little sushi parlour, Aria was kind enough to continue to push her along as they moved through the galleries and chatted. Adagio proved as urbane a conversation companion as Sunset expected for such an old soul, and Aria was equally as learned, to Sunset’s surprise.

“So you really helped build Spitfires during the second world war?” Sunset asked in surprise, and Aria nodded with a grin.

“Ayep, worked in the first factory back in thirty-six,” Aria replied.

“We were in between riots, as it were,” Adagio remarked. “You might be surprised to learn that wars tend to be lean times for Sirens.”

“No, it makes sense,” Sunset replied. “You’re essentially stealth predators and a side-effect of your feeding riles people up, but if people are already riled up it’s like setting a match to a powder keg with a fuse that’s too short.”

Adagio chuckled and nodded. “Mm, I should’ve expected you to be able to parse that out without help, and yes you’re exactly right. Two world wars in the space of a half century left us starving, we couldn’t risk taking too much without taking enormous risks; we’re ageless, not invincible, after all.”

“Well, you made it through,” Sunset said, reaching out to smack Adagio lightly in the arm. “Thank the Quill for that, at least.”

“Pretty sure you’re the only one thanking anything that we survived,” Aria said with an arid lilt to her voice as she pushed Sunset towards a nice open spot near a corner. “Here good?”

“Perfect,” Sunset replied as she pulled her guitar free. “Thank’s, Ari’.”

“No sweat, Red,” Aria said as she walked around and examined the galleries. “Not bad, they basically butchered Classical architecture, but no worse than Gotthard with that weird ‘neoclassical’ thing he was always on about.”

Sunset laughed as Aria started in on a rant about people who were probably a long dead since Sunset recognized a few of the names from her art and history classes at CHS. She was also relatively certain those none of those venerable figures imagined that their most accurate remembrancer would be a salty Siren roasting them centuries later.

Pulling out her phone, Sunset sent a message to Penny letting the feisty music major know that she had ended up at the arcades and approximately where she’d been parked. As she was tucking her phone back in her jacket, Sunset realised she could hear a very particular kind of music filling the air. Usually the arcades were a semi-chaotic cavalcade of music and performance, but currently there was one powerful strain filling the area.

Scanning around for the source, Sunset’s eyes widened as she spied a familiar grey-skinned girl playing near the opposite corner, seated on one of the cushioned chairs and pulling the bow of her cello across the strings and teasing out beautiful chords and harmonies. For several moments, Sunset just watched and listened alongside Adagio and Aria.

It was entrancing. From here there was no doubt in Sunset’s mind that Octavia was a true prodigy of the musical arts. Her body was relaxed, her eyes closed, and her shoulders swayed as if the music moved through her as much as it did the air. Sunset loved music, but even from here she could see the distance between her and Octavia.

In the moments when she was playing, Octavia was the music.

As soon as the final strains trailed off, Sunset was the first to start clapping and her applause was quickly picked up by the rest of the audience, including the two Sirens at her side. Octavia stood and took a few quick bows, and in the midst of her final one she spied Sunset. Her smile rose and fell as quickly as the wind when Octavia saw Sunset’s companions, however.

Sunset gestured for Octavia to come over and, uneasily, she did. “That was beautiful, ‘Tavi,” Sunset said with a wide grin. “Brahm’s Number One, right? I always loved the power in that piece.”

“Yes, it’s one of my favorites,” Octavia replied, still side-eyeing Adagio and Aria who were smirking at her. “Although I particularly favor the parts were the tones become more gentle, it’s far too easy to overshadow them but they’re quite beautiful in their own way.”

“Agreed,” Sunset said, “but I figure you’re probably more concerned with my choice of company, huh?”

“Ah, I wouldn’t want to be rude but…” Octavia trailed off, turning to regard the Sirens fully. “I… assume all is forgiven in one manner or other given that you’re all traveling about together?”

Sunset nodded. “We’re friends, and yeah, all’s forgiven, though-”

“We fully understand if you withhold your own forgiveness, Miss Melody,” Adagio broke in, stepping forward. “Sunset’s feelings towards us notwithstanding, we understand, truly.”

“Yeah, you do you, Greyscale,” Aria replied with a tired smile.

Octavia stared at the pair for several moments, her face didn’t shift an inch but eventually she just nodded. “No, I forgave Sunset for her transgressions, and frankly speaking you didn’t do any lasting harm. So… I’d like to start over if that’s alright?”

Adagio and Aria smiled at each other for a moment before turning back to Octavia and nodding. “We’d be honored,” Adagio replied.

“So, the great Octavia Melody, busking in the mall?” Sunset said as the tension fled. “Kinda out of your element, isn’t it?”

“Hardly,” Octavia replied with a smirk. “My music is for any who will listen and music, when writ upon the air with passion, can be loved by plebeian and bourgeoisie alike,” she exclaimed, dramatically flourishing with her bow.

“Oh I like her,” Aria remarked with a wide grin.

“Sunset!”

A familiar voice took Sunset’s attention and she turned to see Penny waving at her from the other end of the arcade, a large guitar case slung over her shoulder. Sunset waved back enthusiastically and Penny skipped through the crowds toward her, doing her best to avoid jostling anyone with her instrument as she did so.

“Hey, girl!” Penny came to a stop that was half slide, partially dragged forward by the weight of her case. Shaking her blue locks from her face, Penny glanced around. “Gonna introduce me?”

Sunset laughed and nodded. “Girls, this is Pennyroyal Tea, or just Penny… Penny, I’d like you to meet Octavia Melody, Adagio Dazzle, and Aria Blaze.”

“I’m sensing a theme,” Penny remarked dryly. “Music students?”

Adagio and Aria started cackling but Octavia just nodded.

“Cool, me too,” Penny said, “modern music at Crystal Prep.”

“Ooh, a Shadowbolt,” Octavia remarked with a playful grin. “Sure you’re not too good for us Colts?”

“Ugh, I know our rep, okay?” Penny grumbled. “Believe me it was not my choice, okay? The principal is real hardass about academic achievement.”

“I’m only joking, dear,” Octavia said, smiling apologetically. “I trust that if you’re friends with Sunset then you’ve got your head on straight.”

“So we gonna play or what?!” Penny said excitedly, looking down at Sunset who just raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Uh, was… that the plan?” Sunset asked. “Did we have a plan?”

“Oh, uh,” Penny shuffled about nervously. “Y-yeah, I was kinda hoping we could, y’know? You said you were gonna play so I was kinda hoping to play backup, I brought my bass, even!”

Pulling her case around to the front and lowering it carefully to the ground Penny popped it open to show a long-necked acoustic bass guitar with a mahogany finish. The hopeful look on Penny’s face precluded any decision other than playing together, Sunset decided.

“Lovely,” Octavia said admiring the instrument, “I don’t suppose you’d mind a third?”

“Isn’t that kinda slumming it, ‘Tavi?” Sunset snarked, getting a tongue stuck out at her in response as Octavia grabbed a seat nearby and pulled it closer. “Alright, guess we’re an ensemble now.”

“More like a jam sesh, Red,” Aria remarked as she backed up to an appropriate audience distance. “Reminds me of New Chevalean during the twenties.”

“That’s a good thought,” Octavia broke in, settling her cello between her legs as Sunset and Penny strapped their own instruments into place.

“What is?” Sunset asked as she found a good grip on her guitar. “The twenties?”

“No, Jazz!” Penny exclaimed, and Octavia snapped a finger, pointing at Penny.

“Just so!” Octavia said with a grin, drawing surprised looks from Adagio, Aria, and Sunset alike. “What? Jazz is practically the foundation of modern music and the first major evolution of the musical arts in hundreds of years! I can play jazz!”

“Except we’ve never played together and jazz is basically starting on hard mode and taking a dead sprint to expert,” Sunset said with a laugh. “But hey, why not!?”

“Nah, we got this,” Penny said with a grin. “Autumn Leaves!”

“Perfect,” Octavia agreed. “A bit traditional but like Sunset said, we’re new to one another’s styles, everyone knows that one though.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Sunset replied, strumming her guitar to warm up both her strings and her fingers. “Penny? Tempo?”

Penny started plucking at her strings, finding a groove, and after a few seconds snapped her fingers in a rhythm. “One… two… one, two, one…”

With a fluid grace, Octavia’s bow descended on her strings and began pulling out a gentle tune as Penny plucked out a smooth bassline. Sunset listened for just a moment longer before adding her own lighter, higher notes to the easy-going tune.

The effect was almost instantaneous.

Crowds began gathering as the girls united their musical talents, practiced fingers plucked out the jazz standard with a combination of unity and purpose fused with the clear individualism of each of the girls. One moment Octavia would be taking center, with Sunset and Penny following her lead as she leveraged the power of her cello to carry the strength of the music, then Octavia would be backing off, letting her cello provide a rock solid melodic foundation for an improvised bass solo of deep, sonorous strings. Then they would both trail back, setting their powerful chords together to give Sunset’s guitar a beautiful background to play against, highlighting the beauty and complexity of the piece.

Their music was slow and every tone and string melted into one another capturing the senses of their audience. None of them were expecting the final additions to the ensemble though as a voice rose, back by a low, vocal harmony.

Adagio’s voice was low and soft, a gentle caress of liquid gold drifting through the air and though surprised, none of the girls stuttered or faltered in their playing. All three of them instantly fell back into supporting rolls as Aria harmonized with her elder sister, taking up her familiar position. Sunset played into the powerful vocals Adagio was providing, barely keeping her mind on focus as the beautiful and entrancing voice rippled through her. She was so distracted by the song that she almost missed the tears falling down both of the Sirens’ cheeks.

Adagio was incomparable, she had the voice of a virtuoso; her tone, pitch, and range… it was all perfect.

By this time there was no missing the effect the song was having on both audience and performers. Octavia was in a near trance, Penny was swaying as she rode the bass waves of her guitar, and the audience was enraptured in a mist of melancholy of nostalgia.

As Adagio trailed into the finale of the song, her voice tapered out and Sunset heard the delicate crack of her voice at the end of it. Sunset’s eyes widened at the speck of blood at lit upon Adagio’s lips, which was quickly swept away by a single judicious finger, but one glance behind her told Adagio she hadn’t done so fast enough.

The three instrumentalists played themselves out to uproaring applause from the audience, some of the older patrons had tears in their eyes, and even the younger ones look like they’d suddenly discovered a new passion in life.

As the music faded, the players slumped slightly, sweat beading on their brows and their breath caught in their throats as they realised the crowd had swelled to well over a hundred, all crammed into the small gallery.

“That… I’ve never played like that, before,” Octavia said in wonder. “I’ve always been a soloist, now I’m wondering if I ought not change that habit now.”

“Yeah,” Sunset said, looking up at Adagio and Aria who were leaning against one another. “That was… something else.”

“It was friggin’ spectacular is what it was!” Penny exclaimed, shaking the numbness from her hands. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I’ve literally always wanted to do with my life! We need to do this again!”

Calls of encore from the audience were politely waved away by the two Sirens and Sunset, though. Sunset set her guitar to the side and rolled up to Adagio who was rolling her neck and shoulders.

“Hey, ‘Dagi,” Sunset said. “I thought you girls couldn’t sing anymore.”

Aria and Adagio glanced at one another, grimacing. “She was gonna figure it out, ‘Dagi, it ain’t like its a big deal.”

Adagio sighed and spoke, her voice noticeably softer. “We can sing, we just can’t use magic, and sing. What you heard at the end of the Battle was us trying and failing to harmonize with our gems, not with each other.”

“So… you can still sing?” Sunset asked and Adagio grimaced again.

“Yes… and no,” Adagio answered after a moment. “Our vocal chords were damaged during the battle and singing even a low, comparatively simple song like ‘Leaves’ strains them.”

“So why did you?!” Sunset demanded before lowering her voice, “I saw the blood, ‘Dagi, I don’t want you shredding your voice for no reason.”

“It wasn’t for no reason,” Aria replied in Adagio’s stead. “Look, Red, it’s… personal, okay? But… that song means something to my sister, alright?”

Sunset stared up at Aria for a moment before eventually nodding. “Okay… alright, sorry, yeah, savvy, I get it. Just… don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

“I promise, I’ll behave from now on,” Adagio replied with a smirk that slowly faded. “Just… understand that I’ve lived a very long and very strange life, but in that life I’ve only truly loved once. We lived in a forest, we saw many wonderful Autumns together, so that song just… reminded me of him, is all.”

“Maybe one day you’ll tell me about him,” Sunset said with a smile.

Adagio smiled back sadly. “One day, maybe, but for now the pain is still too near… even after all these centuries. But one day, I’m sure.”

“Let’s go ‘Dagi,” Aria said, settling an arm over her sister’s shoulder. “Sonata will probably be up and about soon and if we don’t want tacos for dinner again then we should probably nip that in the bud.”

“Agreed,” Adagio said with a soft chuckle. “It was lovely meeting you all, and Sunset, here…” she handed Sunset a folded piece of paper. “Our numbers, send us a text soon, alright?”

“Keep in touch, Red,” Aria said, waving as the two walked away. “I’ll nab you and Gilda some tickets to my next bout.”

“I’m sure she’d love that,” Sunset replied.

“As much as she’d love knowing your picking up her favorite word?” Adagio shot back over her shoulder before waving a goodbye of her own and strutting away.

‘Her favorite… oh,’ Sunset realised she’d been using the same word Gilda always used all day. ‘Savvy, ugh, guess we’re really picking up each others habits, yay friendship…’

“Well, it was absolutely lovely playing alongside you two, but I should head home as well,” Octavia said, grabbing her things and picking up her cello to set down in her case. She stopped when she noticed it had something in it though. “Oh, apparently we made some kind of income.”

“Huh, oh, yeah, guess so,” Penny looked down and sure enough in both her and Sunset’s guitar cases were a collection of bills and coins.

Octavia knelt down and tallied up her bills then split them to Penny and Sunset. “Here, have them then, I’d love to meet up and do this again sometime.”

“W-wait, Octavia this is almost forty bucks!” Sunset exclaimed, pushing the wad of bills back at her. “Y-you can’t just-”

“I can and I did,” Octavia replied in a steely voice. “Don’t pretend like we’re not different, Sunset. I know that I have an easy life financially, and that I… I don’t want for anything. Well, anything material… I’m very fortunate and I know that… so please, take the share, for my sake if nothing else. It will mean more to me knowing that it’s in your hands rather than my wallet.”

Sunset stared up at Octavia and considered contesting the matter further, but finally nodded. “Y-yeah, okay… thanks.”

“You’re a real character, Melody,” Penny said, smiling softly. “Not a lotta people would just do that.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m a very singular sort of individual isn’t it, Miss Tea?” Octavia responded with a wry grin.

“Definitely that,” Penny agreed, “we should hang sometime, jam out, you got some mad cello skills, girl!”

“And your bass skills are superb,” Octavia replied. “It was an absolute joy meeting you.”

Octavia held out a hand but Penny was having none of that as she swept Octavia up in a crushing hug. Sunset chuckled as she watched the two of them, feeling a slight sense of pride at having brought the two together. It reminded her of the chance meeting she’d had with Gilda. But for the single event of Anon-A-Miss, their paths would never have crossed, and but for this event, Octavia and Penny would never have become friends.

As the three friends parted ways, Sunset wondered if this was what Twilight felt as Princess of Friendship, the idea of bringing people together in harmony, uniting them with commonalities rather than dividing them with grudges and differences like Sunset had done before the Fall Formal.

Sunset decided she liked this way much better.

“You sure you okay, Grifa?” Crankshaft asked as he pulled out from underneath the farm truck and grabbed an oil rag to wipe down his hands.

“For the millionth fuckin’ time, Crank, I’m fine,” Gilda answered as she wiped the sweat from her brow and tossed the hammer she’d been using to beat out some of the worse dings in the bodywork to the nearby table. “That shit is personal, savvy? This is business, I got taught real early not to mix the two.”

“Heh, yeah, my cousin is a real charmer like that, ‘ey?” Crankshaft replied with a grin. “Batshit crazy, though.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Gilda replied, shaking her head as she walked over to the wash basin. “So look, this is a job, savvy? Just ‘cause I don’t like’m isn’t a reason not t’take their money.”

Crankshaft just shook his head. “That ain’t what it’s about, Grifa, I don’t like folks who abandon their kin, y’feel?”

“Still bad business, Crank,” Gilda replied with a grimace and Crankshaft scowled. “Bad business is bad business.”

“Bad business is bad business?” Crankshaft shot back, his expression darkening. “That don’t sound like you talkin’, Grifa, that don’t even sound like mi prima, that load’a mierda sound like ol’ Jefe Storm.”

Gilda turned with a vicious snarl, her hand landing on the first thing in reach, the hammer she’d cast away a few moments ago. For a moment all she saw was red, but in that same moment she saw a flash of something else: Sunset’s face. Gilda’s breath came in deep, heavy draws as she shakily opened her hand, one finger at a time, to let the hammer drop to the floor with a loud clatter. She’d managed to stop half a foot from Crankshaft. The old her would’ve landed the blow, easy.

“No nada mal, Grifa,” Crankshaft said with a wry grin, unmoved from where he was standing and seemingly unperturbed by the fact that he almost had his face beaten in. “A year ago you’da really hit me.”

“Fuck that, a month ago I’da really hit ya, Crank,” Gilda snarled, turning and sweeping up the hammer to pitch it back onto the table. “The shit were you thinkin’? You fuckin’ know exactly how I feel about that asshole.”

“Si, and it ain’t healthy, you’re free of’im, that crazy coño is in Federal prison,” Crankshaft remarked.

“And Grizelda’s still dead!” Gilda roared, whirling on Crankshaft, her whole body tensed as she towered over him, fury twisting her face, and for the first time Crankshaft flinched. Not in fear, but in grief.

“Si… lo siento mucho, mija,” Crankshaft said softly. “But you gotta start livin’ again, Grifa. You can’t let’m keep you in his shadow like this.”

“That old me is always gonna be in that shadow, Crank,” Gilda spat as she turned away to finish wiping down her hands. “I’m livin’ in the shadow of a lotta fuckin’ graves for a fuckin’ eighteen year old, and if that psychopath was out and free I’d happily live under the shadow of one more for what he did to her.”

“Look… Grifa, I know you’re in a better place now,” Crankshaft said, walking over and laying a wide, warm hand on Gilda’s shoulder. “Ya can’t keep ‘Zelda’s death bottled up in ya heart like this, gotta talk about it.”

“What’s there to even talk about, Crank?” Gilda answered, drying her hands off and tossing the towel in the laundry bin. “Storm made sure I’d never even find her body. Can’t even fuckin’... shit! Just… I can’t, okay?”

“Si, but what about ya cariña?” Crankshaft said, following her into the back and earning a loud groan from Gilda. “Look, I ain’t pushin’ you to do nothin’ you don’t wanna, but you know she’s gotta know about this sooner’er later, yeah?”

“Ugh, yeah, I know…” Gilda replied, stopping in front of the locker room door and dropping her head against it with a dull thud. “Just… gimme some time, okay?”

“Toldja I ain’t gonna make you do a thing, Grifa,” Crankshaft replied.

Gilda ripped the door to the locker open and slammed it shut, swearing viciously as she pulled her jumpsuit off and threw it into the locker, not even bothering to hang it up. Sitting down on the bench, Gilda buried her face in her hands. This had not been a good day, in fact it had been an objectively shitty one.

Reaching into the locker, Gilda drew out her jacket and pulled free the gauntlet hanging from the backstrap. Gently setting down the article of clothing, Gilda lifted the gauntlet and ran her fingers over the crudely beaten plates of steel. Most of it had been salvaged from an engine block out of an ancient pickup truck. The straps were stripped from the few good parts of a thick leather welders apron that had seen too much use and was falling apart.

“I swore I’d take his throat out with these claws, Zee,” Gilda whispered, staring dully into the faded metal plates. “But… now what am I supposed t’do? I got Sunny… I… I got a life…”

Tears trickled down Gilda’s cheeks. For the first time in a long time, Gilda felt conflicted. Everything in her life was simple, straightforward, and clear. She knew who she was, and she knew what she had to do to get what she wanted, except now… Everything was confusing.

“My whole world fuckin’ stopped when you died,” Gilda said quietly to no one as she gripped the metal claw hard. “And now… Sunshine just… started it up again. Dunno how; she just slipped past everything and… suddenly I’m breathing again.”

Gilda’s whole world had been defined by waiting, and not for anything in particular, just waiting for nothing. Waiting for the end. Storm would die in prison and his secrets, including everything he knew about her, would die with him. He was that kind of bastard.

“Guess it’s moot, huh, Zee?” Gilda mumbled, putting her talons away. “He’s in jail, the Kings are gone, it’s all Brujah now… maybe… maybe it’s time, huh?” Pressing her face into the hard-edged palm of the gauntlet, Gilda’s shoulder shook with grief as she sobbed. “I just… I wish I coulda found ya.”

She hadn’t been lying to Sunset, last night, when the redhead had talked about closure. Gilda got it… she really, really did.

A knock at the door interrupted Gilda’s thoughts, making her look up, coughing away her tears as she wiped at her eyes and stashed her talon back on its belt. “Yeah? Got somethin’ else, Crank?”

“Just…” Crankshaft trailed off for a moment before sighing. “Look, Grifa, I just want ya to be happy, so… por favor, just… talk to someone, okay? Don’t hafta be me, don’t even hafta be ya cariña, just… somebody.”

Strapping on her boots and belt before pulling on her jacket, Gilda let out a slow, heavy breath. “I can’t make any promises, Crank,” Gilda said softly as she opened the door. “But… y’right about one thing, I’m in a better place, savvy? So… I’ll try.”

“You know ‘Zelda’d want ya t’be happy, Si?” Crankshaft said, his mouth tipping up in a sad smile. “That girl was nothin’ but joy.”

“Yeah well… don’t really matter what she wants anymore, Crank,” Gilda replied in a dull voice. “Dead kids don’t get a say.”

“But you’re still breathin’, Grifa,” Crankshaft admonished. “You gotta remember the dead, sure, but you can’t fight for’em. Like you said, it don’t really matter to them no more.”

“It matters to me,” Gilda replied grimly before letting out a shaky breath and shaking her head. “Look, Crank… thanks, for caring. I just… I gotta figure this out on my own f’now, savvy?”

“Yeah,” Crankshaft nodded, “Get on home, Grifa, we’re closed up next few days til past Christmas, unless somethin’ crazy happens, so relax, take some time, enjoy y’self.”

Smiling slightly, Gilda shoved her hands into her jacket pockets as she nodded. “I’ll try, it’s the best I can promise, okay?”

“Fine by me, Grifa.”

The walk home was freezing. The solstice may have passed but the nights were still coming early and would for a good while. Gilda pulled her jacket closer around herself as the wind picked up, blowing flurries of snow into her face as she trudged through the ice.

Gilda’s phone buzzed in her pocket and when she pulled it out she smiled as she saw Sunset’s name on the message notification.

Sunshine: //Hey babe, on the bus home now, see you soon! I missed you and I love you!//

Gilda: //Headin home too, I’ll be there when ya get home babe. I love you too, so fuckin much.//

Putting her phone away, Gilda felt a warmth in her chest push the cold back. Sunset always did that to her. As she approached her flat, Gilda let her left hand stray down to her gauntlet as she opened the door.

‘Maybe Crank’s right… maybe I gotta talk about’er,’ Gilda thought as she pushed the door open and stepped into the dark, unlit room.

It only occurred to Gilda as she stepped into the flat that it ought to have been locked.

A whisper disturbed the air and the slight, feather-faint hiss of steel scraping leather was the only warning Gilda got that something was terribly wrong.

Author's Notes:

I'm not sorry