“I’m so sorry,” Rarity blurts out as she watches the human crumple in front of her. She slips to his side, any eagerness at playing investigator gone as surely as the light in his eyes. A hoof wraps as far around him as she can, and he barely even acknowledges it, even as the rest of her body shifts. She stands in that awkward two legged pose, the soft hair of her belly sliding against him as her foreleg completes the hug, hooves barely able to touch.

Yet that annoying voice in the back of her mind can’t help but pop up. You realize that this means that your fears of having a crippled foal with him don’t apply. You’ll have him in your life: watching the store, listening to your ideas, having your back during expeditions. Except he’ll never claim your back, not when it matters most. You’ll be able to find another, more suitable suitor when the time comes. You’ll never need to worry about whether your fillies will struggle to succeed in life, if they’ll be held back by an ornament of a horn.

She grits her teeth, taking out the pained anguish of such selfishness by hugging him even tighter. “If there’s anything that I can do; please, tell me.”

“Rarity?” Doug says, his voice barely louder than the pounding in her ears. He motions to the paper. “What are equine-adjacent species?” He points at the words on the letter. “What ‘threshold’ is he talking about?” A spark of anger lights in his eyes as he turns to glare at Rarity. She briefly shudders, her head shying away. “Does it have to do with magic?”

“I… I don’t know for sure,” Rarity says quietly, not wanting to give him any false hope.

“Then best guess,” Doug says harshly. The paper in his hand noisily crinkles as he crumples it up.

“Well,” Rarity says, trying to recall what she learned in school years ago. “You understand, as I said before, that every pony, every creature, has a magical core.” Doug nods coldly. “Some have more than others, and ponies are, on average, one of the more magical creatures. One of the most, in fact. Dragons tend to run a little ‘hotter’, as it were, though most unicorns are loathe to admit that.”

“Hotter?” Doug says darkly, though his hand relaxes. “Like, they have more magic?”

“Yes,” Rarity says with a nod. “Princess Celestia is widely agreed to be the most magical, only contending with a few of the astral ursa. But when you discount ancients, most everypony agrees that it goes dragons, unicorns, pegasi, earth ponies, griffons, donkeys, and diamonds dogs. Despite griffons being, um, a mix of eagle and lion they are generally considered one of the ‘pony-adjacent’ races. Diamond Dogs and lower - that would be cows, manticores and the rest of the less civilized monsters, and then animals - are not.” She frowns slightly as she tries to remember more examples. “I’m not sure where the other species rank on that list.”

“But I’m not on the list at all.” Doug throws the balled up paper against the table, and it bounces and skids off the other end. It doesn’t even bring a smidgen of relief.

“C-correct,” Rarity says, flinching at the sudden movement. “You know about genetics? How traits are passed from dam and sire to filly?”

“Picks some from mom, some from dad,” Doug spits out, more than a little annoyed.

“I’m sorry, Doug.” Rarity reaches forward, grabbing his hand and squeezing tenderly. “But I wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”

Doug merely grunts.

“A pony’s magical core is created the same way. It takes some from the dam, and some from the sire, resulting in a unique individual. Even identical twins have magical cores different from each other.” Rarity grimaces, loathe to continue her explanation, but she must. If only to let him know why it would not work between us. Well, perhaps it could have, if I was a stronger pony. “It… it is why ponies generally stay in their subset. An earth pony has specialized characteristics that a pegasus might not share.” Rarity’s eyes focus on the ground, unable to meet his gaze any more. “Without enough thaumic capacity, perhaps Harmony recognizes that the young would not survive?’

“So it’s a good thing Applejack and I can’t have kids.” Doug chuckles darkly to himself, closing his eyes. In moments his entire body shudders with laughter, his knuckles white from straining against himself. He rises, shaking his head, as he walks towards the door.

“Doug?” Rarity asks with a touch of confusion, their half-eaten dinner forgotten. She follows but makes no move to stop him. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because if I stop,” Doug says, his chuckling almost turning to a choked sob, “the reality of this is going to hit me. And I’ll probably break down, or break something, and I don’t want you to get hurt.” He pulls open the front door. Outside, ponies continue to go about their business, some glancing over.

“But, Doug,” Rarity exclaims as he steps outside. She stands in the doorway as he stops, not turning around. His hands clench at his sides as he stares straight up into the starry night sky, the moon not yet having risen above the Canterhorn. “Surely there is more to try! Perhaps Dr. Horse could help you and Applejack have a foal, or figure something out!”

“No,” Doug says flatly, ignoring the ponies coming to a halt. He turns, scowling as he looks at Rarity. “He sounds like the kind of person who doesn’t care at all about our situation, only that he has a puzzle in front of him to solve.” His frown deepens. “And I’m not going to be put under a microscope just to sate his curiosity.”

“But-” Rarity starts, only to be cut off by Doug.

“No more,” Doug says sharply, Rarity’s ears folding down. “Not tonight.”

Rarity’s final attempt dies in her throat as he turns, a fast run out of Ponyville. At least he’s heading towards Applejack’s. She turns to the dozens of ponies staring at his retreating form, their attention then shifting to her. “Please excuse us,” Rarity says with an apologetic smile. “He just learned some very troubling news.”

“What kind of news?” Pinkie Pie asks chipperly from behind Rarity, coming out of nowhere.

“Well,” Rarity says, only somewhat startled by the sudden appearance, “I-I’m not sure I should say. It is a personal matter for him, after all.”

“Oooh,” Pinkie Pie says, nodding along as the nearby ponies disperse. She whispers, “Is it because he learned that the home he didn’t know he had is now the only home he has because he can’t go back to the home he thought he had?”

Rarity’s eye squints. “Y-yes?”

“Oh.” Pinkie Pie squats down on her rump, a rare frown crossing her muzzle. “That’s the worst! Even when I left the rock farm I knew I could go back if I wanted to. I’d be super sad if I never saw my PSBFF for our PSSSD!” Her tongue sprays saliva all over Rarity, much to the unicorn’s consternation.

“...Right,” Rarity says, nodding along, her horn lighting and grabbing a towel to wipe herself off.

“You know what this means,” Pinkie Pie says with something between a maliciously delightful grin and the kind of hooves rubbing together a supervillain might aspire to someday master.

“Wha-” Rarity starts before she cuts herself off, sighing loudly. “Pinkie Pie. This hardly seems like the sort of situation that calls for a party.” She turns back to the Boutique, Pinkie Pie following closely.

“But-” Pinkie Pie exclaims, bouncing around so fervently it seems like she is randomly appearing and disappearing from objects that have no business hiding her mass, “every situation calls for a party! If he’s super depressed about not having a home or friends or any hope at all, then we just have to show him that he does have those things!” Pinkie Pie frowns briefly, but only for as long as it takes her to say, “Except for hope. He’ll get that when he gets the other things. Like knowing that he does belong.”

“But, Pinkie,” Rarity says exasperatedly, “right now he just wants to be alone. And if he’s anything like me, wallow in self-pity with a tub of marshmallow and chocolate ice cream.”

“Doug seems more like a Fallback Fillies guy to me,” Pinkie Pie says thoughtfully, a hoof at her chin. She shakes her head. “But I think he’s either going to storm back to the farmhouse and take his frustration out on Applejack with a night of rough sex, or he’s going to tire himself out running laps around Sweet Apple Acres until he drops from exhaustion at the spot where he first showed up.” She taps her hoof a few times. “Yeah, definitely the second one.” She fixes Rarity with a sharp eye. “You sure we can’t interrupt that with a party?”

“Yes,” Rarity says with a roll of her eyes.

Pinkie Pie practically dissolves into the floor as she sighs heavily. “Fiiine.” She hops back up to her hooves. “But I am telling Applejack.”

“You go do that,” Rarity says as she surveys the remains of their dinner. The fireflies are still glowing, but the food has likely gotten cold. And Doug forgot not only Applejack’s pack but the one she made him. She goes to throw away the fritters, unwilling to partake in such deliciousness after what he just went through. She stops, though, finding herself quite unable to. You know you’ll just fish them out of the trash tomorrow. So save yourself the step and just set them aside.

Rarity sighs, setting the fritters to the side. She cleans up the dinner, ready to go back to her house, when the fritters catch her eye.

It wouldn’t hurt to have just one.

*

Doug’s feet pound against the dirt paths of Sweet Apple Acres, already exhausted after his hard run from Ponyville. Turbulent thoughts race through his mind, unable to focus on any particular one or make any sort of coherent plan. Why? seems to be the most common one: why is he here, why is he going through this, why even bother trying anymore. He can’t help but make comparisons to a baby and the candy that’s just been taken away. At least the rage threatening to burst out of him, to slam his hand into the table - it wouldn’t make the pain go away, but it would at least give him something else to focus on - at least that has gone away, replaced by the dull ache in his legs and the sharp stabbing in his side.

The steady cadence of a set of hooves gets him to glance over at the pony keeping pace with him. He has no idea how long she’s been there, but the orange mare doesn’t look up at him except with a sideways glance. Doug grits his teeth, willing himself to keep going. And yet the mare stays by his side, seemingly content to just be a comforting presence next to him. At least until his right leg seizes up on him.

The burst of pain sends Doug stumbling, only Applejack right by his side keeping him from collapsing onto the ground. And yet he tries anyway, dragging his unresponsive leg across the grass as Applejack pulls him to the side. She gently lays him down, nuzzling his cheek, only for his arms to wrap around her neck. She’s more than happy to let him tug her close, squeezing tight, and she can feel the wet tears stain into her neck.

“It’s okay, partner,” she says softly, rocking him as best she can from on top of him. “Pinkie Pie told me everything. It’ll be okay.”

“I’m never going home,” he chokes out, sniffling loudly. “I’m never going to see my family again, I’m never going to have a family again.”

“Shh,” Applejack coos, gently stroking him even as he buries his face in her neck. “You are home. We’re Apples together.”

Doug chuckles darkly, though he stops squeezing nearly as hard as before. Applejack keeps massaging his back, just holding him against her. She glances up at the scarred trunk of the apple tree they took refuge underneath as his breathing slows, turning to a steady wheezing against her coat, slowly drifting to sleep herself.

Next Chapter: Ch. 37 - Perseverance Estimated time remaining: 11 Hours, 15 Minutes