Velvet motioned for Sunset to have a seat on the couch, pulling one of the blankets off the back to wrap it around the redhead’s shoulders. “Get comfortable...I’m going to get some soup and medicine for you. You’re not allergic to Tylenol, right?”

“Tylenol’s fine,” she mumbled in reply, still trying to get her brain to process what had just happened. Twilight had been...angry...but then she wasn’t...and she’d had a fight with her parents? That was...that was normal, right? She wracked her brain, trying to remember if any of the girls ever talked about fighting with their parents. Applejack didn’t, for obvious reasons, and she’d gotten the impression that Rarity’s parents weren’t around often enough to fight with. Fluttershy never really mentioned much about her family, but what little she had was mostly positive, her slimy swamp wyvern of a brother aside. She knew the Pie parents were traditional and strict, but that Pinkie, with her queer way of existing in the world was both non-confrontational and almost impossible to pin down for an argument—that was why it had taken her six different schemes before one had worked to alienate her from her friends. That left Rainbow...but she couldn’t recall any mentions of fights...only that her parents were embarrassingly enthusiastic about her accomplishments. Sure, there’d been rumors, gossip, talk...even complaints from other students about the adults in their lives, but she had mostly tuned out family troubles in her bullying days—there were some lines she refused to cross, even at her worst.

It made her twitchy, uncomfortable. Should she leave? Had her presence played any part in the fight? Her brain sluggishly tried to weigh her options, only to be derailed by her stomach growling again and Twilight Velvet offering her a steaming mug that smelled wonderful.

Sunset took it, the warmth of it seeping into her palms in a way that somehow soothed her nerves. “Thank you,” she told the woman, who smiled at her and set a glass of sweet tea and a pair of white pills on the end-table next to the couch.

“Get a few bites of food in you first and then take the medicine,” she advised. “It’ll work better that way.”

Nodding carefully—too fast and it would disorient her again—Sunset blew on a spoonful of the soup before savoring the taste of rich vegetables and rice that reminded her of dinners in the Canterlot palace during the fall and winter, the hearty, hot soups and stews essential for combating the bitter mountain cold that soaked into a pony’s bones for any trip outside that lasted longer than five minutes. Granted, most of those meals had been made by the palace cooks, but every once in a while, Princess Celestia had desired to indulge in a recipe from her past, and they used the monarch’s private kitchen attached to the suite to cook...and Velvet’s soup reminded her so much of the recipe that Celestia alway made when she was sick.

Tears pricked at her eyes, the memories of screaming matches and that awful, icy, final dismissal surfaced. It must have shown on her face, because Night actually said something, his words drawing his wife back out of the kitchen where she was getting them both some coffee.

“Are you alright, Sunset?” he asked, his usual teasing gone and replaced by genuine concern. “Is it your head?”

She swallowed, the mouthful of food going down painfully. “...no...” she answered, unable to lie to either of them. A single tear escaped her control before she could blink it back. “...Sparky’s upset with me...and I don’t want to...if I’m intruding I can...”. Her voice shook slightly and she took a deep breath to rein it in. “...I don’t want to be a problem...I can go home if you need me too. You don’t even have to trouble yourselves with giving me a ride...I can get a taxi or walk.”

There was an intake of breath from Velvet, and the woman quickly came to sit beside Sunset. "Oh, no, Sunset...sweetheart, you are most definitely not a problem.” Her arm curled around Sunset’s shoulders and hugged her. “Twilight has been in a bad mood ever since she came home, and it had nothing to do with you being here. We hadn’t even gotten the chance to let her know you were in the house.”

The former unicorn wiped her eyes with her free hand. “She...just...she...”

“I’m sorry that she lashed out at you like that. She’s not angry with you though, not really. Twilight is angry because Night and I told her couldn’t do something she wanted to do, and when she gets angry like this, she doesn’t always think before she says something.” Velvet hugged her tighter. “You didn’t do anything wrong, or cause it in any way, I promise.”

That...made some sense—the anger part, at least. She understood all too well how fury could make a person say or do things that they normally wouldn’t. That was certainly true of a great deal of her arguments with Princess Celestia, including the final fight that ended with her running to the human world, as well as the fight for the Crown of Magic. Another worrying thought reared up, and she bit her lip. “You...you...wouldn’t send her away, right?” Sunset found herself asking. “Even though she got angry and yelled at you?

Her girlfriend’s parents looked at each other, and Velvet asked very softly, “Why would you think we might do that, sweetie?”

Sunset bit her lip, not sure how to explain the real argument, but she had already broached the subject. Taking a breath, she started to speak, fully intending to be deliberately vague. “...I’ve seen it happen before...” she offered.

Another one of those looks and Night asked, “Sunset...where did you see that?”

“I—” The redhead floundered, falling silent and staring into her half empty soup mug.

Velvet carded fingers through Sunset’s mane. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to, sweetie. If it’s too difficult or if you aren’t comfortable, we understand.” Her tone was warm, and her next words hit the teen harder than she expected. “No matter what you choose to do, it won’t change how we feel about you or that you have a home here.”

She couldn’t stop the tide of words that burst forth, or the tears that accompanied them. “It’s what happened to me,” she confessed, managing to set her soup down on the coffee table as she curled in on herself. “I wanted so much more than I had, more than she was willing to give me...I was an arrogant, selfish brat who wasn’t satisfied, and when she told me that it was too much, or dangerous, or inappropriate, I would argue with her. We fought so much...” The mix of hurt and anger in ancient eyes filled her mind and she whimpered. “I just...I wanted her to love me,” she whispered, “but somewhere along the way I forgot what I was fighting for, and then...we had a huge fight, and it was public...I got so tired of her telling me to stop bothering her and to go make friends, but no one wanted to be my friend...the only ones who seemed to were just doing it to play pranks on me and no one ever believed me because I would get so angry...”

“I did something she had expressly told me not to, and I got caught....and we fought...I was so angry, I threw things at her and called her out and mocked her and challenged her authority...and she just...”

“What did she do?” Night coaxed carefully. “Did she hit you?”

Sunset shook her head. “No...she never did...she didn’t need to. She just...she said, ‘If that is how you truly feel, Sunset Shimmer, then it seems I have nothing left to offer you. For all you pride yourself on learning...you have failed in learning the most important and fundamental lessons I tried to impart upon you—and I see no further point in trying. They are lessons you will have to learn elsewhere.’ Then she had me escorted away with the knowledge I was to be gone at first light...”

She could see the shock on Night’s face, knew it mirrored Twilight Velvet’s. She’d seen it on her Vice Principal’s face too, when she’d given Miss Luna the full story about her falling out with Princess Celestia. Velvet drew in a long, deep breath, and hugged Sunset tighter. “Did she...make arrangements for you to go anywhere else? Someone to look after you?”

How could she explain the difference? She’d been a near adult back in Equestria as it was, and she’d already earned her cutie mark. As far as her kind were concerned, she was not a foal any longer and not really the Princess’ ward anymore. Being her student was an honor and a privilege, not a right. She settled on a shrug. “The guards were to see me and my things escorted to one of the school dormitories in the morning. I...didn't wait—why go to a school where I was already more advanced than anything the teachers were teaching, where I was the orphan no one wanted? I packed a bag and ran. Ended up here.”

Night frowned heavily, and he muttered something Sunset didn’t quite catch or understand, but it wasn’t hard to guess what it was about, or that it included some rather colorful language that she’d never heard from him before. His wife hissed in admonishment of his language, before directing all of her focus to Sunset. “Sunset, do you understand that that was both utterly reprehensible and highly illegal, what she did? No matter how angry either of you got or what words might have been thrown, she was the older, more mature individual and you were her responsibility. She had no right to do that to you.”

Leaning into the hug, the former unicorn sighed, warring with herself. It felt so nice to be hugged and feel like they cared about her, but she didn’t want to get it because of pity generated by a false understanding of what had happened. Princess Celestia’s dismissal and kicking her out of the palace that had been her home was painful, and even now the memories had jagged edges that cut deeply, but the Princess wasn’t some kind of monster. Sunset had done most of the damage herself, and it was really only a surprise that the princess hadn’t gotten rid of her years earlier. In the end, that final fight had proven unequivocally that Celestia had only ever been her teacher...and that knowledge was what hurt the most...

Trying to explain that was hard, though. Celestia had never offered anything beyond mentorship and tutelage. The Princess of the Sun was not to blame for a little filly’s assumptions, or that filly’s increasingly desperate actions to try and make the outcome she desired happen. Foals were looked after by adult ponies in their vicinity—it wasn’t out of place in smaller villages, for example, to have youngsters scolded for bad behavior by whatever adult happened to see it. Even Princess Mi Amore Cadenza had been raised by an entire village—no defined adoptive parents, but a plethora of “Aunties” and “Uncles” that she had chattered about to Sunset in great detail during their short period of non-hostility. Humans weren’t like that, and they had very different laws and taboos about children, child rearing, and the like. There was no real way to get past this cultural, very huge societal difference—or the way the portal had overwritten her age in Equestria with a human form that was close to a decade younger...not without having to explain Equestria, the portal, and talking ponies.

So once more she settled on a shrug, quietly commenting, “It’s illegal here,” deflecting it with vagueness and allowing them to make their own assumptions. One day she would correct it, tell them the full truth of it, but not today. In the meantime, she directed her attention back to her real worry and not opening the old wounds of her past and all her mistakes. “...does that mean you won’t do that to Twilight?” She hoped their reaction meant that Twilight wouldn’t be unceremoniously tossed out, even if they had a really ugly fight or if...if those outlandish stories about how some human parents reacted to offspring who found a partner in someone if their own gender proved to be more than ridiculous exaggeration. Her voice cracked in the middle and she cleared her throat, her emotions not settling like she wanted them to. If nothing else, she was thankful for the acting skills she’d learned before her reformation; they let her school her features to hide the worst of her emotions, including the large measure of guilt over not thoroughly correcting their reading of her past.

Night Light rose from his chair to cross over to the couch, kneeling down and taking one of Sunset’s hands in his own. “Sunset, can you look at me for a minute?” When she lifted her eyes from her lap, he squeezed her hand and addressed her in a very serious manner. “I promise you, Sunset, that we would never, under any circumstances, cast out or send away one of our children. It doesn’t matter what they say or do, we love them, and that will never change. Our children will always, always have a place in this family. All of them, not just Shining and Twilight. That means Cadence...and you.”

Sunset went still and quiet, staring in more than a little disbelief at her girlfriend’s father. She did not doubt the sincerity of his words, but she was not prepared for the way it made her feel—there was a weird rushing sound in her ears and a strange sense like being in free fall, and she started to tremble. “That’s not...” she protested. “...and I’m not...”

“Night is absolutely right, Sunset,” Velvet said from her other side, hugging her fiercely once again. “We told you at Christmas, and I will repeat it as many times as I need to until you believe it: you are part of this family, as much one of my children as Shining or Twily or Cadence. You will always have a place here, and we would no more send you away than we would Twilight. You are never a bother, or any kind of inconvenience, nor do we regret opening our home to you, so discard those notions right now.”

It was too much. With everything else, Sunset couldn’t handle trying to unpack the meanings of their words and her emotions on top of it. She nodded to acknowledge their words, but focused on controlling her response, despite the way it increased the throbbing in her temples. As if they could sense her mood, Night squeezed her hand one last time before letting go and Velvet pressed the soup mug back into her hands with encouragement to eat.

She ate in relative silence, finishing the rest of her meal and taking the medicine for her head. As she sat, sipping on her tea, the redhead glanced towards the stairs. It had been a while since she had come downstairs with Velvet, and there had been nothing from Twilight. She glanced at the adults. “Is...is Twilight going to be okay?”

Night looked up from his book. “She’ll be alright,” he assured her with a slight smile, tapping his cell. “She’s on the phone with Cadence right now, talking it out. When she gets done, I’m fairly certain she’ll be down to talk to the rest of us.”

The former unicorn leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes against the light from the nearby lamp. “...what made her so upset in the first place? It just seems...so out of character for her...”

Velvet, still settled on the couch with her, resumed her earlier act of running fingers through Sunset’s somewhat tangled mane, fingernails lightly scratching along her scalp in a gesture that was not unlike a scalp massage. The teen found herself relaxing against the woman’s shoulder, idly musing that this must’ve been where her girlfriend had learned that particular technique. It was certainly doing more to relieve the tension in her head and neck than the painkillers, and she barely clamped down on the urge to whicker, turning it into a long, contented sigh instead.

“Has Twily ever explained to you what tunnel vision—or fixation—means in relation to her?” Velvet asked, her voice soothing and calm, but honestly curious.

Sunset wrinkled her brow, thinking back over her conversations with both Sparky and then the princess, searching for any time the term or subject of similar meaning had been spoken of, but came up fairly blank. “Tunnel vision: that’s...a tendency to focus on a narrow point of view or extremely singular goal.” She repeated the definition as if by rote—it had been a human idiom that she had encountered early on and like most, she’d committed it to memory. “Akin to the way being in a long tunnel restricts your vision to a very limited window until you reach the exit?”

Fingers gently worked a snarl out of her hair, then resumed stroking. “Yes, that’s about right,” the woman murmured. “With Twilight, when she becomes extremely excited or invested in something, she can sometimes become fixated on that limited window and shuts out everything else. In that situation, if you pull her attention away and make her consider something else, she can get angry or upset...and she is not always the best at dealing with how those emotions affect her.”

Thinking about it in that context, she could see the trait in lesser manifestations, like her tendency to spiral into ‘Teacher Twilight’ mode, or the way her girlfriend’s princess counterpart had gotten so bogged down in writing the counterspell that she missed the obvious events around her. “I...can see that happening,” she admitted, chuckling. “Sparky can get...intense...sometimes, when she is passionate about something.”

There was a laugh in response from Velvet. “She can, can’t she? It’s nice that she’s found a friend like you who can engage her when she’s invested in a particular hobby or interest.”

Sunset rolled her shoulders in a half shrug. “...It’s interesting, and I learn new things sometimes. Besides,” she added, growing a little bold with her words, “it’s...cute...to watch her get so excited about being able to share with someone who isn’t just...letting it go in one ear and out of their minds.”

Velvet made a sound in her throat, and her voice was tinged with sadness that almost made Sunset open her eyes. “...Her enthusiasm is endearing to some, but not often to her peers, or even to a great many adults. You’re special in that regard, sweetheart.”

“Sparky’s the special one,” the redheaded girl said in a soft voice. “She was the first person ever to look at me and actually want to be my friend...and she never laughs at me for the things I don’t know. She just...explains them, and she does it better than anyone else I know.”

She found herself leaning more against Twilight Velvet’s shoulder, the receding pain from her headache leaving her mind in a weird sort of muzzy cloud. With another almost whicker turned sigh, she let herself drift for a minute or two, perking up a little when Velvet dropped a motherly kiss on the top of her head with a murmured, “Thank you.”

One blue green eye cracked itself open. “Hmm? For what?”

“I am...just so glad that you and Twily met, sweetie...I can’t really explain how good your friendship has been for her.” The woman squeezed her around the shoulders briefly.

Sunset felt a sleepy smile curl the corners of her lips upwards. “I don’t think I deserve that much credit, Mrs. Velvet. Twilight’s amazing, and I can’t imagine why someone wouldn’t want to be her friend.” It was true, even if that knowledge would have made the old Sunset go into a screaming rage. She’d come to know Twilight Sparkle, human girl, and could even see the very character traits that made the human girl special reflected in the pony version. The title of ‘Princess of Friendship’ was well deserved for the Equestrian counterpart, and in Sunset’s opinion, the title of ‘Sunset Shimmer’s Very Best Friend’ was no less powerful, even if it seemed more egotistical on her part than anything. “I can’t even explain how amazing. Not only is she smart, she can see things in a way almost no one else can, making these leaps in logic that I never thought I’d find from anyone other than myself, but she’s not arrogant about it like I was—it hasn’t twisted her into a terrible jerk or gone to her head as some kind of delusion of grandeur. Instead, she’s nice and kind and respectful of others and their abilities, and it was just so simple for her to decide to make friends and stick with me when I thought the smartest thing she could have done was run for the hills and never look back.”

The former unicorn knew she was rambling, and she should probably stop, before the adults clued in on just how involved she was with their daughter, but her brain was slow to halt the flow of words as she listed all of the things she found wonderful about her girlfriend. “...she’s cute too, especially when her nose does that little scrunch thing when she’s thinking super hard, or when her eyes light up and she does that little...dance...thing when she gets excited or an experiment works...” She found herself fighting a giggle, and knew she was in trouble. “And the pout she gets when something doesn’t go according to her plans, I feel so bad, but it gets me everytime...and don’t get me started on how impressive her ability to come up with creative insults is!”

Night Light’s chuckle in the background of her rambling grew into a laugh that hiccuped somewhere towards the end, finally cutting in on her running monologue. When he recovered, pausing to clear his throat, he replied, “It just shows us what a special person you are, Sunset, that you can see all of those things about Twily too. You might be surprised at how many people overlook those things in favor of a snap judgment.”

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Sunset snorted huffily, muttering a remark under her breath about stupid, blind monkeys, which made Velvet shake with laughter. “Sunset, sweetheart, you truly are a wonderful and loyal friend.” Then she sobered. “Back to my original point and your question, however: part of what set Twilight off earlier was us doing something that we had planned for--with her agreement and her therapist’s advice--meant to get her to take some time and space to work through her feelings and remember there are things going on besides her fixation of the moment, and that she has both responsibilities and needs that she needs to take care of that she would otherwise ignore. Because of us interrupting her fixation, and removing her ability to further engage with it, she got very upset with us. Once she’s had a chance to breathe and calm down, she will sit down and talk about the situation with us in a much healthier way.”

The teen thought on that, before venturing, “So you're...trying to help her, but...at the same time, when she’s calm enough to talk, you make sure she understands why you did what you did and hear what she has to say?” A wistful sound escaped her. Why couldn’t Princess Celestia have done anything like that, instead of the enigmatic riddles and nearly emotionless reactions? If she’d ever had the opportunity to explain her side of anything, maybe actually—

The former unicorn cut that thought off before it dragged her emotions back out right after getting them under control.

Her girlfriend’s mother nodded. “We do our best to make sure that we communicate with her and that we listen as much as we talk, so that everyone is on the same page, and that she understands what we are doing and why.”

Silence fell as Sunset absorbed that information. In a lot of ways, it made sense. She sat for a bit, just thinking and breathing. Finally, she asked, “...so...what happens now?”

Don't worry, Sunset, Family dynamics are confusing, even for those of us with family.