“Here ya go. Sorry it was so late mate, but ya know how these things can happen sometimes with the mail service,” Scribble chuckled, trying his best to down play the fact the book order was late. The stallion on the other side of the door was sympathetic to his cause and nodded. Scribble waved him goodbye and prepared for the long trip home.

It was a nice evening in Manehattan, Celestia and Luna put on a beautiful show of orange and rays. The sun beaming across the incoming night sky was one of the few joys Scribble looked forward to everyday, and he soaked up every moment of it. His saddle bags were now empty, and his delivery run complete, it was time to retire to the bookshop and his nice cosy bed for the night. ‘Haven’t felt this plastered since a full day of harvesting in the old sugar fields,’ he thought, his aching bones and muscles agreeing with the sentiment.

It had been a full week since Grand Estate last graced the bookshop with his presence. In that time things had begun to settle down a bit, the bookshop opened again and Sketch had taken on more hours of work. This gave Scribble time to settle down and think things through, a lot had happened the past couple of months, and he needed time to processes it all.

Scribble began the long walk home through the cold winding streets of Manehattan. The noise of bells and loud galloping filled the city streets, Scribble saw a large water wagon being pulled by several strong stallions. ‘Fire brigade? What could be going on this late at night?’ he wondered to himself watching the wagon gallop down the street and around the corner. Scribble got a little worried upon the realization of the fire wagon’s projected course. It was heading in the direction of the bookshop.

After staring into space, or in this case the night sky full of smoke, Scribble tipped over his own hooves while he bolted off after the fire wagon. The hearty Earth pony put hoof to pavement slowly gaining distance on the wagon. ‘No way it could be the bookshop. There heaps of building that side of the city. Besides,’ Scribble thought as he took another look towards the smoke in the evening sky. ‘Nothing compared to the bushfires we used to light up in Blaze season back home.’

Scribble found maintaining his high speed a little bit of a job, but thanks to years working the sugarcane farm in the outback he managed to ignore the muscle pain and soldier on through. He went hard enough to even catch the fire wagon, as it rounded another corner.

But it mattered not that Scribble caught up, he was home. Standing before him was several other fire wagons with Unicorns using magic to put out the fire, a fire that was consuming the bookshop. Scribble broke down, collapsing onto his flank and staring into the raging inferno.

Fire ponies ran around the scene, getting bystanders out of the way and adding more water onto the fire. They tried to move Scribble who was gone to the world. “Ey!” a fire Unicorn yelled out, trying to push a dazed Scribble out of the potential range of falling debris. “Ey, come on pal, youze have ta move o’ youze might get hit o’ burnt! Now move ya flank befo’ youze get roasted!” the fire pony yelled slowly pulling Scribble out of danger.

The fire Unicorn yelled out for help moving Scribble away from the fire. Another strong and sturdy Earth pony galloped over and heaved him out of range. They had just gotten the Scribble out of danger range when a third fire fighter reported they could hear cries for help inside the fire. Scribble eyes opened up like he was shocked back to life. “SKETCH!”

Out of nothing but pure instinct Scribble jumped and bolted into the fiery inferno, despite three fire fighters trying to stop him. Without a second thought he rushed in and didn’t look back. ‘Dam it Sketch, I won’t forgive myself if I lose the only pony I got close to in this bugger of a concrete jungle.’

Pieces of wood and furniture were ablaze, and the roof itself was starting to fall down. The heat was like being in an active volcano, making Scribble sweat profusely as he started to lose energy. “Sketch!” he called out in vein. “Sketch, Skeeetttccchhh!” Scribble continued to search what seemed to be an empty shop, he couldn’t see hide nor hair of his favourite artist. ‘Maybe he already been burnt ali…’ Scribble cut off mid thought by tripping over something on the floor. Scribble was left battered and bruised from the sudden impact. He turned around to see the cause of his down fall, only to have his eyes light up. Sketch was out cold on the floor, burn marks and more bruises and cuts then he had time to count. “Sketch! Oi Sketch, come on shake that flank and let’s get going mate!” Scribble ordered trying to shake his friend awake. “No, this can’t be happening, ya can’t be dead?”

Scribble spent another minute trying to shake his friend back to life, but to no avail. Hope was fading fast as Scribble held his friend in his forehooves and let the waterworks out. “Dam ya Sketch! Ya was not meant to cark it yet!” Scribble yelled before going silent for a few seconds. “YA CAN’T LEAVE ME ALL ALONE, DAM YA!” Scribble screamed out at the top of his lungs. Bringing Sketch close to his chest he gave him a huge hug, Scribble was ready to die right there and then. ‘What do I got left to live for in this world?’

Ba-bomp.

“Well at least it will end with a mate.” Scribble had lost all the will and energy to continue on, collapsing to the floor next to Sketch. The fire grow bigger and wilder, completely consuming the bookshop and upstairs apartment.

Ba-bomp.

The staircase leading upstairs fell to pieces, crashing into the shop counter and causing a huge explosion. None of which Scribble could hear, he was dead to the world, the entire world, expect for himself and Sketch.

Ba-bomp.

“What the?”

Ba-bomp.

He pulled Sketch’s chest close to his ear and listened carefully.

Ba-bomp.

“That little ripper, ya alive mate ya alive!” he cheered, as he gave his friend another hug.

Scribble almost lost himself in thought again, before the heat of the fire and burning embers at his hooves reminded him of the current situation. “Oh right… fire. Come on mate let’s get ya out of this mess.”

Scribble attempted to get up on his own fours, but fell short collapsing back on top of Sketch. ‘What? Since when do I gots no energy left?’ He was shocked his hooves refused to work. “Okay Scribble, there is no way, no how, ya rotting in this hell! Ya been through enough hells as it is! Now get ya sorry flank movin’, an’ get Sketch out, NOW!” he declared inspirationally to himself. Slowly Scribble got up, one hoof after another he pulled himself from gravity’s effect. Grabbing Sketch by the neck and tossed the artist onto his back. This caused Scribble to collapse into the ground again. “Dam Sketch, ya need to go on a diet after I save ya flank,” he deadpanned, managing a small giggle to help inspire himself. Scribble summoned every ounce of energy from every corner of his body, he slowly raised himself and Sketch off the ground, howling in pain as he did so.

Scribble’s hooves wanted to give in, his breathing became heavy, the air thick with smoke and the sheer heat that was burning his very body. Scribble didn’t care about any of that. The only thought on his mind was saving Sketch. With all his reserves gone Scribble was running on pure adrenaline. He eyed the front door off in the distance with fire and fallen debris between him and freedom. Scribble took one last gulp and charged the front door. Letting out a huge yell, like the medieval ponies of old, Scribble with his precious cargo didn’t stop for anything, using his head to knock objects out of his path closing the distance on the door to freedom.

“Ey, where da flank are dem Pegasus wit’ da clouds!?” the fire Unicorn questioned looking into the sky.

“Not sure, dey should be here by now,” another fire pony informed.

The two Unicorns were near the front of the bookshop using their magic to levitate hoses, spraying water from the wagons into the fire. “Ey, youze here dat?” one of the fire Unicorns asked, putting his ear closer to the burning inferno.

The other Unicorn followed suite and tried to listen to a constant banging noise coming from inside the burning shop. “Ya, sound like a..”

The Unicorn was cut off mid speech as Scribble came crashing through the front door from the inside of the burning building. He started his jump from inside the shop and knocked what was left of the front door clean off. Scribble and Sketch landed on the ground out front near the two Unicorns, both ponies rolling several times before coming to a complete stop.

“What in Celestia’s name!?” the stunned fire pony yelled, frighted out of his flank at the surprise invasion from within the fire.

“Quick, somepony get us some help ova' heeya!” He raced over and picked Scribble’s head off the ground, inspecting his for any wounds or burns.

Scribble was still conscious but barley. He looked up and saw several Pegasus with storm clouds pouring down on the flaming inferno. “Make…make…make sure ya help Sketch,” was all Scribble could manage before his eyes closed and he passed out.

The fire fighters gathered up the two injured ponies and rushed them off to the hospital, just as the last bits of the bookshop came crashing down.

A familiar beeping sound from a white and green room aroused the sleeping patient from his much loved slumber. Scribble groaned as some familiar pains came to his body. When he could finally open his eyes he saw what he expected, a hospital room and himself covered in bandages.

“Well youze an’ me on a second date already, sweetheart?” a familiar mares voice snickered. The doctor pulled up a bench on wheels next to Scribble, and got ready to check his condition.

“Oh great, the old trickster is back. If you an’ Sketch force me into anotha’ corner I will…”

“Well sorry sweetheart, dat won’t happen dis time ‘round,” Pulse said in a sad tone while she pointed a hoof to the other bed in the room.

Scribble lifted his head a bit, flinching a little from the pain, to see his friend in several bandages laying there lifeless. “How bad is he?” Scribble asked, fearing the coming answer.

Pulse hooked Scribble up to a few medical devices while checking his condition. “Not good I’m afraid.” She said pulling the thermomotor out of his mouth. “Minus da burn marks he got, Sketch will also be in a coma fo’ several months we believe.” Pulse had a few tears in her eyes, understandable since Scribble was boiling with the water works. His best friend in this city was going to be out of commission for months.

“It all my fault Pulse. Somethin’ in my shop set off a fire, an’ it caused my mate to end up in this state.” Scribble could feel his guilt stacking. He was unable to take his eyes of his friend on the other side of the room.

Scribble broke down in a puddle of waterworks, referring to himself as useless and not deserving to live in this world. Pulse saw herself having to do something before this escalated out of control. “Look not all dat bad, youze did save youze friend now, didn’t ya? He will live ta see anotha day, thanks ta youze dat is.” Pulse put a hoof on the Scribble’s shoulder to try and calm him down a notch.

It took a few minutes but Scribble eventually settled down, regaining his senses and letting Pulse do her tests. “I know, I know I saved him, but I shouldn’t of let him been burnt in the first place. An as ya said, he will be out for a few months at least, maybe even longer.”

Pulse put all her tools back on the mobile bench having finished the tests she needed to perform on Scribble. “Listen hun, maybe dis is a chance for ya to have a holiday o’ take some time off. Maybe youze can visit ya family fo’ a while or summat?” she mumbled to herself speaking more just out of thought than to Scribble.

This got Scribble’s attention loud and clear. ‘Come to think of it I no seen or heard from the family in a couple of months, maybe I should have a little down time back home. Will give me time to see what is next in my life.’

“Scribble, ey Equestria ta Scribble!” Pulse yelled to snap her dazed patient out of his own little world. “Come on sunshine what ya thinking off?”

“Off home, Pulse. It has been a good couple of months since I last heard hide nor hair from them. Not like them to go so long without a reply, seems like they up the creek without a paddle,” Scribble replied a little worried.

“Ey, what up da creek?”

Scribble giggled a little at the doctor’s lack of expense. “It’s where somepony might be in a little trouble where I come from. I know it a little confusin’ sometimes, but no better then how some of the ponies in this city speak,” Scribble stated still rubbing in the fact he got Pulse good.

“Oh ha ha, looks like da funny writer got one ova’ on da doctor,” She adjusted her tone to act like an evil scientist. “But da doctor will get da last laugh.” Pulse pulled her head back and made her eyes go into a sharp stare. She opened her mouth and let out a huge evil laugh, well, the best one she could pull off in any case. This made Scribble flinch, sweat poured down his face, he knew what was to come.

“Um…Pulse, what is that look for? I assure ya I’m perfect, and as fit as a fiddle.”

Pulse still had a smug look on her face, which literally made Scribble wet the bed. Pulse laughed her flank off at the embarrassed bed wetter whose face now glowed redder than a sweet strawberry. “Settle down will youze. I not really goin’ ta hurt ya.”

“Ya sure?” a frightened Scribble begged, hiding under the sheets.

“Yes, I’m sure. Besides youze willz have ta stay in hospital at least anotha week befo’ ya make travel plans.”

Scribble didn’t much like this idea, and it showed on his face. Replacing the playful smile he just had with a look of concern. “A week? What could be so wrong with me I need a week? Just how bad are my injuries?” Scribble questioned with the topic of injuries reminding him of pain which made its way back into his body.

“Well compared ta ya friend ova there, youze got off easy.” Pulse levitated her clipboard in front of herself so she could read off the list to Scribble. “Youze got some minor burns, bumps an’ bruises an’ a huge open cut to ya right hind leg. Dat cut is gonna leave a mark when it’s all healed up. But your coat will hide it once it grows back fully.”

“That bad eh?”

“Ya, dat bad. Youze in heeya a week so those burns can heal up a little. Afta dat youze free to head home, jus’ so long as ya take it easy fo’ a while,” she stated sternly putting her notepad back down. Scribble wasn’t much happy, not angry with the doctor but more a sense of longing. Longing for his home back in Trot About Creek, and the family he hasn’t seen in ages.

Scribble stood on platform four ready to depart southwards for home. The train was due in a matter of minutes and Scribble couldn’t wait to leave this city behind. Even thought he was leaving it behind for another town he hated, what choice did the sad soul have?

It had been ten days since that fire, the fire that saw Scribble and his only real friend in this city in a coma. Even after a week in the hospital the doctors still had no idea when Sketch would wake up. Scribble asked Pulse to forward to Sketch when he woke up that he had gone home, and he gave the doctor a contact address.

According to the police investigation, the fire was accidental. So Scribble was not compensated for anything he lost in the fire. With the official report saying the toaster was left on and fell over, starting the fire. Scribble didn’t much buy the story, but he couldn’t care less to lodge any form of complaint. The police force was nice enough to buy the train ticket he needed for the trip home.

So here Scribble was with a small saddle bag over him with the few things he managed to salvage from the fire. A few family snaps and one scarf being all he had to his name.

A train pulled up against platform four, and a voice called out over the loudspeaker. “Now boarding platform four, the Southern Outback express, stopping at Filly Springs, Hoof’s Rock, Trot About Creek and Gold Pine.”

‘Well that’s me, an’ about time to. Any longer an’ I would of chucked a right old wobbly,’ Scribble thought to himself happy to be taking his final steps out of the Earth pony metropolis.

Scribble boarded the train and presented his ticket to the conductor who stamped it for approval. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to shut off for a while. Scribble took a bunk in the sleeper car and fell into forty winks. The train trip was going to take a whole twenty four hours, plenty of time for some sleep and to think about what is next in his life.

Author's Notes:

Sorry for this chapter taking so long, but ya know how life gets sometimes. Anyway chapter 7 is already done just needs editing, and 8 is already started so ya will getting some more reads soon.