Author's Notes:

I was waiting for some potatoes to roast and, while sat in the kitchen, I did this. Not sure why.

Hope you like how I write drunkeness! Hah!

Someone will probably tell me this is sad. Maybe it is?

Rarity was not the biggest fan of Rhys, the local human, so his showing up in the middle of the night was not something that filled her with joy.

That he was clearly ratarsed was merely the icing on this cake of woe.

It was not overdramatic to use ‘woe’ here.

“R-rarity?” He asked, amazed, peering down at her as he wobbled dangerously, very nearly toppling over backwards before managing to snap forward, clinging to her doorframe for support. “What you doin’ in my house? Did you - did I giv’ you a key? Don’ ‘member doin’ that…”

Even by his usual, slovenly standards the human looked rough. He was crumpled in places Rarity hadn’t even known it was possible to be crumpled, half of his hair was stuck down while the other seemed to be trying to compensate by going in as many directions as possibly all at once and to top it all off he was incredibly red in the face. Particularly around the eyes.

Not that any of this made Rarity feel happier about seeing him. If anything, it made it worse. If she was going to be woken up out of the blue the least her nocturnal visitor could do was look vaguely presentable.

“Your house is on the edge of town, Rhys. This is the middle of town,” she pointed out.

He stared at her blankly a second as though she was some intensely troubling, complex obstacle that had been placed there just to make his life difficult, still clinging on to the doorframe with both hands the whole while.

“Oh yeah,” he then said.

He blinked and his eyes widened.

“Oh! Oh thish is your house! S’the roundabout thingy! Shhop! Clothes. Yeah?” He asked, looking up at the top of the porch. From underneath. This clearly couldn’t have told him anything of use, but he did it anyway.

“Yes. It is,” Rarity said flatly, her level gaze not leaving his face. When he stopped staring up and looked back at her again - finding her gazing levely - he flinched, tried smiling in a friendly fashion, failed, tried smiling in a neutral fashion, failed, and then just shrugged.

Shrugging nearly caused him to fall over again.

They stared at one another for a moment.

“Oh,” he said again, eventually. Rarity sighed.

“If you thought this was your house, Rhys, why did you ring the bell?” She asked.

And not just ring it once, either. Ring it repeatedly. Even after she’d opened the door.

“...sh’good queshtion. I - heh - I don’ e’en have a bell! S’confusin’,” he said sheepishly, one eye starting to droop closed.

“You certainly seem confused.”

“Yeah, n’yeah.”

Dead silence, barring some crickets who chose this moment to highlight the intense awkwardness. Pony and Human stood locked in silence. The pony, hoping that the human would get the hint and go away. The human, so fucking pissed he was having difficulty seeing six inches in front of him.

Amazingly, the human was the one who broke first.

“Well ‘am sorry woke you, Rarety. Raarty. Rarity. M’sorry. I’ll - I’ll let you to it. N’you go back t’sleep. I’ll go my place. S’this way. Yeah, yeah, this way…”

This he said, pointing and starting to stumble off in completely the wrong direction. Rarity sighed, again.

She couldn’t in good conscience let him go off on his own in this condition. As likely as it was that he would simply find a nice, safe ditch to keel over into and sleep this off, Rarity wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if something bad were to happen to him.

“Rhys,” she called out after him and he rounded, this time actually falling over as his legs failed to operate properly in concert. She winced as he fell flat on his face but he didn’t seem to mind. Or even notice.

“M’yes?” He asked, picking himself back up again, now even more crumpled and dishevelled. It was getting to the point where it was starting to be physically painful to Rarity to have to look at. But she swallowed it down.

“Would you like a glass of water?” She asked.

Rhys considered this question as though it were one of the weightier ones in life.

“Yes,” he said, at length.

Getting him inside was easier said than done. He was unsteady on his feet - which was obvious - but what was worse was that he was unsteady to a level that seemed to vary by the second. Any time Rarity tried to compensate for him with her magic he would suddenly get his poise back and her help would tip him over, or else she would withdraw assistance and he’d suddenly lose it all again.

Infuriating.

Still, little by little she managed it, coaxing him by inches to a chair and getting him sat down.

“Now stay there,” she said, firmly. “I will be back.”

“N’okay. Am I home?” He asked. Something in this must have been pretty funny because a second after saying it he giggled. Rarity ignored this and went off to get that glass of water. Sooner he was even a smidgen sober the sooner he’d get his sense of direction back and the sooner she wouldn’t feel awful about turfing him out.

Returning, Rarity passed him the glass - making sure he took it with both hands and even then paying very close attention to the handover - and then sat across from him on something considerably more comfortable, she having specifically put him on a chair without upholstery.

Drunks were messy.

Rhys sipped in silence for a bit and Rarity watched him, debating with herself whether she’d need to get a bucket or not. He kept on sipping and, eventually, just to break the awful silence Rarity said:

“I must say I’m surprised to see you still here, Rhys. I was under the impression that today was the day you were to go through that portal Twilight has been working on.”

At least as far as Rarity knew.

It wasn’t something she followed particularly closely but she had heard it mentioned once or twice that all of Twilight’s hard work had finally started looking as though it was about to pay off and she’d finally got that portal she’d been tinkering with to work without collapsing violently.

All gibberish to Rarity, of course, but she’d smiled and nodded with the best of them while Twilight had gushed about dimensional this and stabilisation that. It was nice to see the girl so excited.

And, certainly, it really was a surprise to still see Rhys about. Rarity would have expected him to have been off like a shot at the first opportunity, pulling his usual ‘human goodbye’ and just slipping away without a word.

And yet, here he was. A little the worse for wear.

“Portal?” He asked, brow furrowed, screwing first one eye shut then the other in a feeble effort to get them to focus on the same thing at the same time. Rarity gritted her teeth and pulled in all her available patience.

“Yes dear. The portal? The one you’ve been helping Twilight with? To get you back home?” She asked.

‘Helping’ was a strong word here, but Rarity felt it was allowable in the circumstances.

Rhys blinked at her very, very slowly. He then burst out laughing.

This sudden shift in tone was alarming to say the least. Had he not already drunk half the water he would likely have spilled some, such was the violence of his laughing, doubling over the chair and nearly keeling over forward out of it before Rarity caught him. He did not notice her doing this, and he just kept on laughing.

They did tail off though and he sat up straight again, wiping away a tear and sniffing, shaking his head at a joke he’d clearly thought was just a riot.

“Aha, yeah, n’yeah. Portal was today, n’yeah,” he said.

Which did not explain anything about what had just happened.

“...so why are you still here? I would have thought you couldn’t wait to get back home.”

Normally it was about all he could talk about. Everything he said seemed to somehow loop back to where he was from and how much he was looking forward to being there again. Rarity barely spoke to him and she knew this to be the case. Indeed, it was because it was all he talked about that she rarely spoke to him. It got dull.

Rhys was shaking his head, rocking a little in the chair.

“N’didn’t work. S’no go. No go. Nope. Not going back,” he said, giggling again, then hiccuping.

Rarity was stunned. This was all so bizzare. What had happened? Some of her irritation on having been woken up so rudely began to melt away, replaced with a thirst for the hot gossip of the day. Why hadn’t she been notified?!

“Not going back? Whyever not?” She asked.

Rhys - taking another gulp of water and so unable to speak - waved a hand around. This told did not tell her much of anything.

“Nnothin’ to go back to,” he said.

“Nothing to go back to? Did the portal not work?”

Rhys had another minor attack of laughter, but much subdued compared to the last one. More of a flutter, really.

“Heh. N’no, t’worked. Worked alright. Got home. Jusht nothin’ there. Nothing there.”

Rarity felt that Rhys was probably not the best source of information available for this, at least not right at that moment. Then again, the only other one she could think of would be Twilight, who would be asleep. So that would make him the only source of information on the subject.

“That...how could that be?” She asked. Rhys shrugged. He’d looked quite chipper following his laughing fit, but that seemed now to be wearing off fast.

“S’time dilation or somethin’. Somethin’ like that. S’two years here, right? ‘Cos I’ve been here two years now, right?” He asked her.

“I am aware,” she said. Rhys nodded, albeit after a small delay.

“Right, yeah. Two years here, but, like, a million back home or somethin’. Longer maybe. Or not as long. S’doesn’t matter. Long time though. N’so when Twilight opens up that portal and we ‘ave a look through we got nothing. S’place is good. No, no, wrong. Wrong word. N’not good. S’gone! That’s the one. Gone. S’all gone.”

“Gone?”

“All gone! Jus’ nothin’. Not even grass! S’all dust. Sand,” he scratched his chin and squinted into middle distance. “Lotta sand. Maybe it was jus’ that bit we looked at I ‘unno. Maybe there was grass I did’n see. But Twilight said me to that there wasn’t anythin’ left. She had a look. Went off flyin’ fer a bit. Nothin’ left. All gone.”

Rarity gaped at him. Surely there had to be some mistake somewhere in this. Had he seen the wrong thing? Possibly. Seemed more likely that - given his current state - he was instead missing key details or muddling up the telling.

Slipping from the couch she’d been sitting on Rarity pulled over another chair of the kind she’d sat Rhys on and sat on it herself, putting them closer together and nearer the same level. Rhys did not notice this, at least until Rarity gently put a hoof onto his leg, whereupon he stared at it, mystified.

“White thingy. Oh! Hello,” he said, following the white thingy up to its owner and finding Rarity sat there.

“Hello,” she said, smiling politely. “Now Rhys, I’m afraid I couldn’t quite follow all of that - would you mind going over it again for me?”

“What again? Oh, right. Uh, portal, right? The thing?”

“Yes dear, the thing.”

“Right, right...could I hav’ more water, please?” He asked.

“Of course.”

This happened. Rarity came back, passed the glass back and sat again on the chair next to his. Rhys sipped and it became pretty obvious in the quiet that followed that he had forgotten what she’d asked him previously.

“Now, trying telling to me again. Slowly, dear. Take your time,” she said, patting him on the leg. He stared at her hoof, then it all came back to him.

“I dunno what you want me to say Rare-rar-Rarity, I said w’as all gone and it was - all gone! Nothin’ left,” he said.

“Yes but I’m unclear what you meant by ‘all’. ‘It’s all gone’ is very final. From the sound of things something was still there, at least. Sand, if nothing else.”

He giggled, hiccuped, nearly dropped the glass.

“Heh, yeah. Lotta sand. Maybe a new desert! Didn’you know ‘at you can get, like, deserts with cold? S’cos it’s got to do with, uh, moisture. I think? And, like, if’s too cold ‘en the moisture is all, like, stuck an’ - hang on, am I remembering this right?”

He frowned, looking around the room as though the answer was hidden there somewhere. Rarity lent forward and used a hoof on his jaw to gently get his attention back on her again.

“Dear, focus, focus.”

“Right, right. Sorry. Uh. You - n’you asked me somethin’?”

Drunks. Rarity took a calming breath and kept on smiling.

“What happened when you went through the portal Twilight made? What did you see? What was gone?”

He clearly couldn’t quite work out where she was coming at the question from. Then it seemed to penetrate his skull and his face lit up.

“Oh!” He declared. “Oh! I get it now. Yeah, yeah. N’now I get ya. Right, yeah, so, uh, people. People were gone. That’s what I meant. Planet was still there! With sand. N’and maybe other stuff I dunno - but no people. All gone, all gone people. Long, long gone. M’millions o’ years. Left without me! Haha. Ha. Ha.”

He trailed off then, staring down at he glass in his hands and what water remained in it. After a moment of consideration he raised it and drank the rest in one gulp before returning the glass to his lap and idly rolling it about between his hands.

“Ha,” he added, as an afterthought.

Rarity didn’t really know what to add to this or what to ask next.

She heard a sniffle and when she looked up found Rhys starting to cry. This she had not prepared for and this she did not know how to handle. Her eyes widened and, in a panic, she patted him on the knee.

“There there,” she said, cursing herself even as the words left her. Could she have said anything more useless?!

Luckily for her Rhys was too drunk and miserable to even notice.

“Can’t go home again. Heh. Eheheh. Hoo. Can’t…” he mumbled to himself, sniffing some more and wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve.

This was not the Rhys that Rarity was familiar with. Up until right then even the possibility that he was capable of crying hadn’t crossed her mind. He was just so distant that it had never seemed an option for him.

Come to think of it, before tonight she didn’t think she’d ever actually seen Rhys looking anything other than grumpy and unapproachable. He’d spent all his time in Ponyville - all that two years he’d mentioned - either in his house or at Twilight’s. The times he’d actually joined in with anything or tried to make friends or anything even like that Rarity could count on a hoof.

Not that she had a whole let else she could count on, of course.

Shuffling to the edge of her own seat she magically plucked the glass from his hands and, while he looked about in confusion, reached over to take his now-free hands in her hooves. That got his attention.

“N’what? Did I do somethin’?” He asked.

“I’m very sorry, Rhys,” she said, looking him in the face though he turned away, sniffling some more. “Are you absolutely sure it was the right place?”

He just nodded, swallowed.

Rarity hadn’t expected a different answer. She trusted Twilight to have got it right.

She gave his hands a squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

Rhys shrugged and his hands withdrew, tucking underneath his armpits as she folded his arms across himself.

“S’sfine. I mean, s’not fine but s’nothin’ I can do ‘bout it. Happened,” he said.

“If there’s anything I can do for you…” Rarity said, realising there probably wasn’t but still feeling the need to offer. For such a large thing Rhys suddenly looked very small and just so overwhelmingly miserable. It was upsetting by proxy.

Rhys shook his head, pulled his arms about himself tighter.

“Nah, s’okay, s’okay. Jus’...they’re all gone. Everyone’s gone. Everything happened and I missed it. N’I don’t mind ‘at so much I guess. Most of what happened s’was prolly pretty bad. But I didn’t want to miss everyone. I - I had people. I wan’ned to see ‘em again. N’now I won’t. All gone.”

Proper crying now. Hands out from under armpits and pressed to face. Rarity stood up on the chair the better to pull him in for a hug. Rhys didn’t resist this.

“Shh, there there, poor boy, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she said, one hoof around his neck while the other rubbed his back. This made the crying worse, but in a cathartic kind of a way, a way that made it obvious he was getting it out, which was something.

A lot of what he said while bawling into Rarity’s neck was unclear. Here and there she picked out bits and pieces. Things about how he’d waited two years thinking every day of the moment he’d show up home again and how everyone would see he was back and how he’d cooked up all sorts of explanations for his absence and what he thought might have happened in the time he’d been gone and how much he’d missed everyone and how it had all been a waste of time.

Through all of this she soothed, rocked, rubbed his back.

Little by little Rhys tapered off and quietened down, moving through the dry, soundless, wracking sobs and eventually back into being settled again. Rarity could tell he’d made a mess of her coat. She’d kind of expected it. Worse things had happened.

He pulled back. He was now incredibly red in the face, particularly around the eyes but, again, expected. Despite this he looked better, as well as deeply embarrassed.

“S’sorry,” he mumbled, again unable to look her in the face, up until she again tilted his chin so he had no choice.

“Nothing to be sorry about, dear. It’s good to let it out. Do you feel better?”

Rhys nodded, shrugged.

“Little,” he said.

“Well I’m glad to have helped even a little. If there’s anything else you need - anything at all, any time, you just ask. Okay?”

Rhys squinted at her. He could have sworn she’d been annoyed with him a second ago for having shown up so late. Or had he imagined that? The way she was smiling at him made him think he was probably imagining it. Weird.

Probably nothing.

“S’okay,” he said. “S’just - s’just thing. I’ll get over it. Shouldn’t ‘ave got my hopes up, really. Stupid.”

“Don’t say that,” Rarity said, sternly. She was still standing up, using his shoulders to keep balanced. It was a level of closeness Rhys really wasn’t used to with ponies. Had he not been drunk he probably would have felt distinctly uncomfortable about it. In the event, he did not.

Not at all, in fact.

“Sorry…” He said, realising belatedly that he’d been staring and so turning away again to mumble: “N’now m’jus here…n’don’t belon’ here…”

She pulled him in for another hug, he didn’t resist this.

“Don’t say that either, darling. You’re perfectly welcome here and belong as much as anypony. Don’t even think otherwise.”

“Sorry,” Rhys said, muffled.

“And stop apologising.”

“Sorry,” he said. Then, on noticing what he’d said, added: “Sorry.”

The hug continued a little longer and then broke, Rarity backing up and settling back on the seat, leaving Rhys looking a bit lost and confused. He got over it.

“I should - I should go. Already woke you up. You can go back to bed, I’ll go,” she said, gesturing towards the door and gathering the energy to rise from the chair. A hoof on the knee stopped him cold.

“Nonsense darling. I can’t have you walking all the home in the dark, can I? You can sleep here. The sofa is especially comfortable,” Rarity said.

Or so she’d heard. Rhys followed the direction she was pointing in and saw the sofa in question. It looked small but, he had to admit, comfortable. Some feat to look comfortable at a distance.

“...issit?” He asked.

“It is, yes.”

Couldn’t really argue with that.

The water had done much to clarify Rhys’s thinking but the crying had done a lot to give him a splitting headache, so thinking straight was still a hair’s breadth beyond him. He peered at Rarity trying to work out what the deal was. He barely knew the woman. Had spoken to her, what? Twice? Three times? And even then only at those ghastly events he’d been dragged to?

Why was he being so bloody nice?

“You - n’you don’t hav’ to do that, Rarity. S’fine. M’fine,” he said, failing to reach any conclusions as to why she was being so bloody nice and so just giving up trying.

“I don’t have to, no. But I want to. After what’s happened you shouldn’t have to be alone. I’ll get you some blankets. If you need anything else - even if it’s just company - you come and you wake me up. Don’t even hesitate,” she said, hopping down from the chair and trotting off to - presumably - get blankets. Rhys watched her go, dumbly.

“I couldn’t do that…”

She turned on the spot, stood up straight, smiled.

“I insist that you do! If I was in your position...well…” The smile dimmed a little as she tried to imagine even for a moment what it would be like. Even hypothetically she wasn’t a fan. Why Rhys had chosen to get bladdered she could now understand.

Quite why Twilight had felt it acceptable to just let him wander off after learning that his world had ended and everyone he’d known in it had moved on was, ah, unclear. Rarity felt she should probably have words with her about it tomorrow. She was sure there was an explanation.

Still. That was tomorrow and right now was right now. Rarity put the smile back on again and concluded: “If I was in your position, darling, I wouldn’t want to be alone. It is the least I can do.”

Rhys swallowed, screwed his eyes shut a second and just said:

“Thank you.”

With this Rarity bounded off to go get blankets, leaving Rhys on his own. He watched her disappear up the stairs and listened to her clatter about above. He thought about what had happened today and was clear-headed enough now that it was really starting to sink in.

Though no so clear-headed that the room wasn’t starting to spin.

Bending over double Rhys clutched his skull with both hands and sucked in a breath.

“Oh my fukcin’ head…” he groaned.

Then, more quietly, just to himself:

“Everyone’s gone…”